#but there is no shame in doing things in a way that makes your life easier or makes things more manageable or more accessible.

[paarksunghoon]

resignation (6)

SUMMARY: For the last six years, you’ve dedicated your career to ensuring Park Sunghoon never misses a day of work in his life. But you’re tired of endless days that seem to blend together, and seeing him living his fun, luxurious lifestyle makes you think about what else you might be missing out on. When Sunghoon finds your resignation letter on his desk, he does everything in his power to convince you to stay.

NOTES: life comes at ya fast…updates will come as I have more inspo and time to write. :) this is unedited

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: cunnilingus, slight coercion (but is it really if she wants it?).

SERIES PLAYLIST + SERIES MASTERLIST

***

Midweek comes around slower than you’d like and it feels as though your days are dragging on the more you try to tie up loose ends and review resumes of potential candidates. 

Sunghoon has agreed to transfer some of the responsibilities onto the secretaries for the time being. They’ll be responsible for attending meetings in-office and other tasks that can be taken off of your plate as you focus on what’s at hand. 

“Are you any closer to finding me a new assistant?”

He asks this at least once every few hours. He’ll do it when he hears you typing away on your keyboard or when you’ve neglected to hear him call you from the door. Sunghoon says it with a smile that looks too playful for your liking. 

“Not any closer than I was since the last time you asked me.” 

“Shame. But perfection takes time, doesn't it?”

You roll your eyes. “Come in and close the door, will you? It’s hot as shit outside and you’re letting all of my cold air out.” 

“Maintenance is working on fixing the air conditioning in the main areas. My office isn’t as cold as yours, I’ll say that.”

“Maintenance likes me better.”

“Nuh uh.” 

You look up from your monitor. “What are you, a child?”

“Maybe.” You roll your eyes again and focus back on your work. “Any candidates I should know about?”

“Are you asking me because you’re interested or because you’re bored?”

“Is there any difference?”

“Yes. You either care about who’s going to take over my position once I’m gone, or you enjoy watching me suffer by being in my presence.” 

“The latter, actually. You’re cute when you’re angry at me.” You scowl at him. “See? Cute.” 

“I’m not cute.”

“You say that, and yet you are.” 

“You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re really cute, especially with my hand between your legs.” Your face grows hot and Sunghoon grins when he realizes he’s rendered you speechless. 

“If you aren’t going to be of any help, might as well go back to your office and do your job.” 

Sunghoon puts both hands up. “Alright, alright. I did come here with the intention of an update, though. Heeseung mentioned you’ve made some progress when I saw him earlier this morning.” 

“Some. I’ve been getting hundreds and hundreds of applications, and it’s getting hard to sift through all of them.”

“What kind of things are you looking for?” 

“Experience, mostly. Someone who meets half of these qualifications and won’t be an ass about it.”

“Got any contenders?” 

“I haven’t met with anyone yet, so I can’t be so sure right now. I’m in correspondence with some to meet at the office next week for an initial interview before I decide.”

“How many interviews?”

“Three. One introduction, a second so they can see the office, and a third with you.”

“With me?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, you. I need you to like your assistant.” 

“The way I like you?”

You near your throat. 

“I surely hope not.” 

“You don’t have to worry about that. I just need an assistant who can handle the job and not complain about it too much.” 

“That’s the goal.”

“Who are you meeting with next week?” 

“Cho Miyeon’s coming on Monday morning and Kang Taehyun will be coming the same afternoon.”

“Yang Jungwon on Tuesday too, huh?” Sunghoon peers over your shoulder and stares at your calendar. “You’ve got a busy week.”

“I’m doing my best. My workload is being shared while I look for my replacement, so it’s not too bad. Don’t get any ideas and add things on my docket, though.”

“Well…”

You sigh. “Sunghoon, please. I’m trying to be diligent and do right by you, but you’re making me want to quit on the spot.” 

“Hear me out at least, okay?” 

Sunghoon sits on the edge of your desk and sees the top button of your blouse unbuttoned. It’s not enough for him to see your bra underneath, but his mouth runs dry thinking about it. 

“It’s our turn to choose a restaurant for the next quarterly dinner party. As you know, it’s important because we as a company build internal connections and reward those who work under us with an all expenses paid meal.”

“Plus quarterly bonuses from the respective employers.”

He nods. “Yes, plus the bonuses. Anyway, I’ve booked a reservation at a highly rated Spanish place that serves tapas style for tonight. Cool, huh?” 

“You cannot seriously expect me to drop my plans to work.” 

“You don’t have plans.”

“Okay, fair point. But Pochi, Sunghoon. And I don’t want to work!”

“We won’t be out until late into the evening, if you’re worried about feeding her. We’ll leave the office early and I’ll have you home before nine. And you won’t be working. Not really.” 

“Asking me to try food for a work event is considered work.”

“Just come with me, okay? If you like it, we’ll host the party there. If not, we try another one on the list.”

“What list?”

Sunghoon merely smiles but he doesn’t explain further. “Don’t worry about it. Get yourself hungry and we’ll leave at five.”

“You, leaving work at five…”

“Early, I know.” Sunghoon laughs. “So what do you say?”

“I say you want me to ignore all of my tasks and distract me with food. Why can’t you go with another assistant who actually gives a shit about this party?”

“Because I care about your opinion, not theirs.” 

“I don’t have time to entertain this when it’s not on my immediate priority list. You can bring Jongseong to dinner, for all I care. He’ll appreciate that more than me.” 

Before you know it, he’s on the floor and turning your chair to face him. 

“Sunghoon!” 

He situates himself between your legs and spreads them apart by pushing your knees away. His fingertips gently touch your skin and inch up the skirt you’re wearing, pushing the fabric up your thigh. Your resolve seems to crumble when you see him like this and look around hastily. 

“W-What are you doing?” 

Sunghoon doesn’t speak. He looks at you and smiles like he knows something you don’t.

“My window is open,” you say in a haste, trying to push his hands away from your legs. 

Sunghoon merely laughs and leans down to press a kiss to the inside of your knee while maintaining eye contact. You sit frozen in your chair as you watch him stand, eyes trained on his semi-hard cock outlined in his trousers. He makes no fuss and faces the windows to close the blinds before turning back to look at you.

“Better?” 

All you can do is nod. Sunghoon drinks you in with his eyes. His gaze starts at the bottom of your heels until you feel his stare drag up your body, locked in on the flesh of your collarbones until his eyes meet yours. It’s hard to keep eye contact with him when he’s looking at you like that, never mind the fact that the outline of his dick is practically at eye level. 

He brings his hand to his mouth and rubs his jaw, huffing something you can’t quite make out. He then resumes his positions on his knees and this time, you don’t complain when Sunghoon pries your legs apart. 

“Can I try to convince you?” he asks in a sultry tone. His voice might as well be made of soft velvet and you find yourself nodding. “Yeah? Can I have my way with you right here?” 

Sunghoon has his answer when you widen your legs before him and parts his mouth like he’s in awe. He observed the way your skirt rides up your thighs even more, then shifts his gaze to your covered cunt. Sunghoon looks like he might as well be high; his gaze is hyper focused between your legs and his well you panties mold to the shape of your cunt. 

His bottom lip becomes wet with his saliva and you’re almost positive that Sunghoon would start drooling the longer he looks at you. His hands delicately hold your ankles in place when you brush your thumb against the corner of your mouth. 

“You’re drooling.” Sunghoon looks up at you.

“I can’t help it,” he says, kissing the pad of your thumb. “You’re so perfect down here.” 

Your cheeks flush for the umpteenth time. Sunghoon’s hands move from your ankles to gently caress the outer skin of your calves before he brings one hand to push your skirt until it sits just below your waist. You lift your hips to help him and settle back down in your chair at a steep slouch. 

Sunghoon holds you there and you feel as if you’re being presented on a platter. Still unused to being like this in front of him, you resist the urge to close your legs to prevent yourself from being even more flushed than you already are. He pushes his face between your legs and gives one, long kiss to your covered slit. 

“So perfect.” Sunghoon mumbles against you, and you suck in a quick breath. He sticks his tongue out to taste the wet slick soaking from the fabric. “That’s really good.” 

Never in a million years would you have ever guessed how good Sunghoon looks on his knees. He’s brash and confident, proud and stoic. The ease in which Sunghoon fell to his knees knowing he’d see what you hide between your legs makes you feel like you’re on top of the world. Sunghoon, who stands down for no one, kneels on his knees for you. 

He pulls your body down and brings his tongue all over your covered cunt. The surface of his tongue makes you clench against him and buck your hips. Sunghoon chases after it, pushing against you harder than merely grazing like he was previously. He licks a confident stripe and laps at your panties like a kitten drinking milk. 

His ginormous hands and caresses your outer thigh like he’s trying to make you relaxed and unashamed of the pleasure he wants to give you. You’re reminiscent of how you felt the morning Sunghoon’s hands were on you for the first time—nervous, excited, and extremely horny. 

When Sunghoon pulls your panties to the side to reveal your lap to him, he groans and his warm breath makes a shove run down your spine. He admires the way your pussy clenches in front of him and kisses your naked slit like he’s trying to reassure you.

“Relax, love. It’s just me.”

“Kind of hard to relax.” 

“Why?” Sunghoon kisses your slit once more and you sigh in contentment.

“I’m not used to people looking at me like this.” 

He looks up. “Get used to me between your legs.” 

When you deal with Sunghoon’s demands during working hours, you’re a force to be reckoned with. He’s stubborn and loves to fight back until you frustratingly give up or until you’ve backed him into a corner. You’re used to his hotheaded tendencies and never back down if you can help it.

But Sunghoon’s hands keep you locked before him so gently that it makes you think you’ve got nothing to worry about. His fingers caress your skin in a way that makes you tingle with excitement and lust, and it’s been a while since you’ve felt this way about anyone. 

He can feel your body respond to him when you loosen the tightness in your hips and let your legs fall beside him. Sunghoon’s mouth kisses your outer lips and avoids your clit, but the feeling is all the same when you haven’t been in this position in years. He takes his time, moving his plush and moistened lips across your skin like he’s mapping out every inch of you.

Sunghoon’s head moves to your inner thigh and his hair brushes your skin. His eyes remained closed as if to savor the taste of your body. You can’t seem to look at anything but him like you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you close your eyes and allow yourself to lose yourself in his touch.

Feeling so exposed is out of your comfort zone. You feel completely naked in front of him despite wearing a blouse and a skirt, technically. The sheer act of intimacy, even if Sunghoon walks away from you forever after he’s done kissing you between your legs, still feels like more than a mere hookup like your previous experiences. 

Sunghoon is still fully dressed and you wonder if he’s as hard as he was before kneeling. Your mind races when he switches legs and kisses all the way to the inner portion of your knee, dabbing gentle pecks that makes your heart race much faster than you would’ve ever anticipated. 

He must know by now you’re as inexperienced as a woman your age could be. It’s never for the lack of trying; men leave you disappointed and the pool of new lovers falls short when you aren’t the type of person to lose yourself in strangers who will never love you back. Sunghoon touches you like he’s more than somebody you’ve worked with for the last six years. It scares and excites you all at once. 

His breath ghosts over your cunt before he sticks his tongue out to lick a fat stripe. It feels like the entire surface of his tongue covers the entirety without a single inch being undiscovered by his mouth, and the sensation makes your toes curl in your heels. It’s enough to make your back arch slightly. Sunghoon watches you and puts both of his hands at the side of your hips to keep you steady before him. 

Sunghoon takes his time and doesn’t rush it like you think he will. He sounded so desperate to get you to agree to come with him to dinner tonight. You were sure he’d get on both hands and knees like a dog to beckon you to come. The sense of urgency seems to have been tossed out the window when he closed the blinds. Despite being in your office and hearing faint sounds of the copy printed from outside the doors, you feel like it’s just the two of you existing in the same space. 

His tongue moves up and down your slit slowly. Sunghoon’s eyelashes are long and dark, fluttering against his cheek with every pass. You wonder if this is what he looks like when you’re kissing him. It’s unfair how sexy he looks when his tongue is coated in your slick and when he’s sighing against your pussy like this is a meal that has finally satisfied his craving. 

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs against you the second he pushes his tongue past your folds. The vibrations continue to add to your pleasure and you buck your hips against his face. 

“S-Stop talking.”

He chuckles. “I think you like it when I talk to you like this.”

You shake your head stubbornly. Sunghoon hums like he doesn’t believe you. His fingers dig into your hips to pull you closer to his face instantly, latching onto your cunt with the urgency you anticipated beforehand. He shoves his tongue deep inside of you to the point where you grip the handles of your chair until your knuckles feel sore. Your palms have grown sweaty and you fear you’re losing your grip on both the chair and your sanity. 

He looks up at you before taking one hand and putting it in his hair. It’s like a foreign instinct takes over. Your hand grips his hair until you’re holding his head in place. His eyes flicker back to yours before focusing on lapping up your wetness, no doubt coating the lower half of his face in it. 

There’s no real method he’s adhering to. It’s messy and growing louder by the second with his saliva mixing in with your juices. Sunghoon slurps you up like he’s trying to taste all of you at once and flexes his jaw to accommodate shoving his tongue inside of your folds and thrusting. 

Your legs eventually wrap around his shoulders and Sunghoon can feel your heel digging into his suit jacket. He doesn’t mind. You’re sure this encourages him to fuck you like this harder because his tongue moves in circles inside of you when your thighs keep his head locked in place. His dark brown eyes open to look right at you and the moans you’ve been holding in escape. 

Sunghoon moans against you too. Your whimpers and short breath sent the blood straight to his cock, but he knows this isn’t the time nor the place to make you moan the way he wants you to. He’ll take what he can get, but that single, deep moan that came from his tongue bouncing over your clit makes him think it would be worth it for everybody to hear you come.

He looks so good with your thighs suffocating his face. Sunghoon doesn’t complain, he just puts his hands on your thighs and squeezes you to keep them there. Your hips start to chase his mouth when you feel your orgasm building and when Sunghoon sees your chest heaving off of the chair, he keeps his steady position and flicks his tongue across your swollen bud. 

You don’t even realize your hips are rolling against his mouth until you come against Sunghoon’s tongue. He doesn’t give you a second to breathe as he laps it up, opening his mouth as best as he can with your legs still wrapped around his face. He moans when he tastes all you have to offer and bucks his hips to grind against the tightness of his slacks when he sees your eyes wired shut and mouth gaping. 

The grip on his hair loosens when your body relaxes and so does the grip on your legs. Your breath feels much heavier than before and when you open your eyes, Sunghoon’s looking at you with a drunken smile on his face. Your cheeks instantly heat up and you try to pry your legs back down, but he keeps you steady there and moves his head to kiss you on each thigh.

“You look so pretty when you come.”

“S-Sunghoon…”

“Yeah, love?” 

You blush harder. “You’re just…” 

“I’m just what?” 

You avoid eye contact. “You looked really hot.” 

He laughs and you feel his eyes still staring at you. Sunghoon lets go of your legs and helps settle them back down on the ground before pushing your panties back in its proper place. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand and sits on the back of his knees to help you regain balance and sit upright in your chair as you fix your skirt in an attempt to look decent. 

“You did so well for me,” he says, pushing upwards to kiss you. Your taste lingers on his lips. Sunghoon braces himself on your thighs and his palms feel comforting. 

“I-I can’t believe I let you do that in my office.”

“Such a rebel, hm?” Sunghoon chuckles between kisses before pulling back to look at you. “Did that convince you to come with me tonight?” 

You nod shyly. “I don’t want you to think I’m the type of girl who can be bribed by sex, though.”

“I don’t think that of you. Matter of fact, I know I had you reeled in when I told you I’d take care of the details.” 

“Hmph.”

“I ate you out because I wanted to.”

Sunghoon kisses you again before standing up. The sheer size of it makes your mouth water and you see the small, wet stain left by his precum. He watches you with fascination and watches your hand reach out with hesitation, pulling back before you’ll do something you might regret. 

He doesn’t force you to touch him, nor does he ask you to do anything in return. You watch him with hooded eyes and the sight of you looking up at him while he stands will fuel his dreams for days to come. 

“You’re hard.” 

“That I am.”

“All that from eating me out?”

He laughs. “You underestimate how much I’m attracted to you.”

Your eyes flicker up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. So much that I ate your cute little pussy in your office.” 

You swat the side of his thigh and look away from him. “I…My pussy isn’t cute.”

“So cute and so tight. Felt it with my fingers and I felt it again with my tongue. Can’t help but wonder what it’ll feel like with my dick.” 

“Sunghoon!” 

“Too soon?” The blush on your face gives your desire away, but he laughs and backs off. 

“I have a pair of fresh slacks in my office. Let’s finish the rest of today and then we’ll head over for dinner, yeah?”

You raise your eyebrow. “You’re gonna walk out of my office while you’re hard?” 

“It’s like, two inches from yours.” 

“People could see.”

“Aw, are you worried about me?”

You huff. “Let people see how hard you get for me, for all I care.” 

Sunghoon smirks. “Atta girl. I think I just might.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Just how you like me to be.”

You don’t argue with him. You both know he’s right. He eventually makes his way to the front door and is about to leave before he comes back around your desk. Sunghoon takes you by surprise and leans down to kiss your lips once more before wordlessly exiting your office.

It takes a great deal of strength to stand up and open the blinds.

***

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[heartyluv]

I LOVE how you write the lads guys!!! May I please request taking advantage (in a kind way, of course) of zayne’s medical expertise and asking him silly medical questions? Just like really random stuff! lounging around with him at home or being out and about while asking those questions would be so funny and I’m sure he would kind of like it lol

Note: This idea is too cute, I love it. Thank you so much, luvly. I felt like this works best as headcanons, so I hope that’s okay. 😚 Enjoy!

Creds to @/strangergraphics for the dividers!

Warning: Just a brief explicit headacanon after you and Zayne have been intimate.

Zayne/Reader

✴︎ Dating a doctor meant that you officially had a walking medical encyclopedia for a boyfriend and you had no shame in utilizing his knowledge. Thankfully for you, Zayne was always happy to deliver whenever you asked him all kinds of questions.

✴︎ I feel like when you start getting comfortable enough to ask him, it’s really simple things. Like it’s questions about your personal health at first. You’ve definitely asked him something like; “Babe, how do I make my headaches go away faster?” and “What do you think are the best vitamins I should take so I don’t have to keep taking gross ones that aren’t doing anything?”

✴︎ Not only does Zayne answer your questions, but he gives you some deeper insight so that you have your own knowledge about things. And you like learning from him—especially because of the way he looks at you as you stay hooked onto his every word.

✴︎ He loves the little text messages you send him. You ask him something almost everyday, sometimes even attaching a photo for reference LOL. I picture you at the supermarket, stumbling upon these new health beverages that you want to try out. But if your Dr. Zayne says that they’re simply drinks full of more sugar than actual benefits, you’ll have zero problem putting them back on the shelf. “Do any of these actually work for gut health? I sent you the nutrition label. What do you think?”

✴︎ I believe he always takes your questions seriously, but you have moments where you ask him something so ridiculous that he can’t help but laugh. “Zayne, babe… I ate like three apples and a pomegranate, and now my mouth feels weird. Am I dying?” Don’t catch him on a day where he’s feeling goofy either, because he might scare you a little bit.

✴︎ “You may have oral allergy syndrome, my love.” Just imagine his tone being dead serious and the silence that follows. And when you start losing it over the phone, he tries to calm you down, but he’s just smiling so hard at your theatrics. When you search it up and you start worrying if you’ll ever be able to eat another mango again in your life, he tries to suppress his laughter, all while attempting to soothe you at the same time.

✴︎ You’ll be walking around while you guys are on a date and will randomly ask him how many calories does he think you’ve burned, just to see how accurate he is compared to your walking app that tracks all of that for you. Not only does he get incredibly close, he’s also able to do the same with the amount of steps you’ve actually taken.

✴︎ “Quick, we’ve been walking thirty minutes, normal paced. How many calories? Go!”

✴︎ Just wait till you start watching one of those medical shows. You never watch an episode without him because you have to know how accurate the writing is. He’s gotten through three seasons with you and sometimes, he’d answer questions before you even asked because he just knows you so well. And you legitimately learn so much that even you start pointing out unrealistic things yourself.

✴︎ “That doesn’t even make sense. He was hit in a major artery, wasn’t he Zayne? He shouldn’t even be able to argue with a doctor right now.” He’s so proud of you, by the way. How information sticks with you. And honestly? He finds it sexy—particularly knowing that he’s the reason why you know the things that you do.

✴︎ Times when you try to eat healthier, you always ask him how many calories something will be if you take something out or off. Like you’d still eat junk food or foods that aren’t exactly healthy, but you wonder what the difference will be if you add a vegetable. LOLLL.

✴︎ “Zayne, if I put only mushrooms on the pizza, is that better?”

“Honey, I think it’s best to just discard the pizza entirely in order to properly fulfill the goal you intended to reach.”

“But Zayne…It’s Friday and it’s pizza.”

✴︎ Some more questions off the top of my head from you would be; “If I eat more carrots than usual, will the decrease my chances of having to wear those thick bifocals when we’re old?

“If I’m on top more often when we have sex, will that tone my thighs out more?”

“How is it possible to drink a gallon of water a day? There’s just not enough time to drink all that liquid.”

✴︎ Omg, you totally believe that ginger is like the cure all and you even make him eat a raw slice of it a day LOLLLL. He admits that it has its benefits, but when he tries to tell you that you have to do more than just eat ginger, you listen, but you’re still so insistent about it.

✴︎ “Despite the benefits and your complete belief in the sacred ginger, love, please make sure you continue to take your daily supplements. Add to your regimen so that you improve your health—don’t take from it believing that something is an optimal replacement.”

✴︎ This one is a little explicit. But, I imagine you and him finish having sex, he’s on top of you, both of you already came and feel good. And even when you’re breathless, even with the glorious man above you, you can’t help it when you ask: “Do you think we’ve met our quota on physical activity for the next few days?”

✴︎ Zayne can’t help but laugh, leaning down to kiss your neck. But he’s also filthy enough to move his hips just a little, hinting that he in fact could go again and says, “I think it’s best to try again… One more time, just to be safe. I’m sure the quota will be more than met once I’m finished with you.”

✴︎ Of course you’re going to let him fuck your brains out again. Why wouldn’t you let Dr. Zayne take care of you? What kind of patient would you be if you didn’t?

[absurdthirst]

The Last Part of Him {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.2k

Warnings: Flirting/Courting, Joel's a little confused, Flirting through food, dates, feelings of inadequacy, oral sex (male and female receiving) premature ejaculation, shame, fleeing the scene of the crime, public blowjobs, mentions of infertility, sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, Joel being sexy when he's confident, relationship issues, miscommunication, five year flash forward, mentions of illness, canon events, pregnancy.

Comments: When Joel and Ellie come to Jackson, you are instantly attracted to the gruff and slightly solitary man. Chasing him down until you become interwoven in his life.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Joel sighs as he looks around the house, full of mismatched furniture and remnants  from long dead owners who perished during the outbreak. Joel feels a little awkward touching anything, the space doesn't feel like his, but since he and Ellie returned from Colorado, he is desperate to settle down. He doesn't know how to. It's been twenty years of fighting to stay alive and all of a sudden he doesn't need to fight for his meal, it's provided. He doesn't need to try to stay warm, he has a fireplace and space heaters. He doesn't have to just survive. It's hard to shake old habits so the residents of Jackson are skittish when he's around, dark eyes full of the battles he fought over the years and that makes them nervous, scared that he's going to snap. Ellie has settled in like a duck to water, meeting the other teenagers despite her initial apprehension, and Joel is happy to see that. It confirms that he made the right choice to save her. Picking up the coffee cup, Joel falls back into the chair at the kitchen table. He doesn't have to survive anymore...he can live. He stares at the cup until there's a knock on the door. His heart pounds and the instinct to grab his gun is there but he slowly makes his way to the door, opening it to find you standing there. "Uh, can I help you?" He asks, taken back by the pretty young thing on his doorstep holding a basket of what looks like muffins.

You shift nervously, smiling at the handsome newcomer to Jackson. Not exactly new since he and the girl were here for a few days several months ago, but they are back to stay. You’ve met the girl, Ellie, and she’s nice, if not a little abrasive. Joel, though, you’ve only seen him in passing and you wanted to introduce yourself to Tommy’s older brother. Your name comes out of your mouth, almost hesitantly and you could kick yourself for nearly stuttering because of an attractive set of brown eyes and silver threaded hair. “Wanted to introduce myself and welcome you to Jackson.” You offer, holding up the basket. “Hope you like blackberries?” You ask. “I’ve got a greenhouse in my backyard. Blackberries are abundant this year so far.” You’re rambling so you clamp your mouth shut. “Made them myself.”

Joel hates that his immediate reaction is suspicion but what can he do? He raises his eyebrows, watching you shift from one foot to the other, biting your lower lip like he’s gonna shove the muffins on the floor. “I, uh, thanks.” He says, brow still furrowed but he musters a smile for you. “You didn’t have to do that.” He reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, “they, uh, they look good. Thanks.” He adds again, not sure how to act when faced with genuine kindness.

“We’ve grown our wheat fresh.” You offer, knowing that some have voiced concern about eating flour when they first arrived. “No old stores. Not that they would have survived twenty years anyway.” You hate how stupid you sound, especially because he’s more attractive up close than he had been walking the streets, an unapproachable scowl on his face. “So you know, it’s safe to eat.”

You’re nervous and he has no idea why except maybe his reputation has preceded him in Jackson. He knows that the people are wary of him and don’t know who exactly he is. “Thanks. I, uh, I don’t remember the last time I ate a muffin.”

God, he’s sexy. You swallow down a slight giggle, wondering if you are just horny because of lack of selection. “Well I promise you’ll love my muffins.” You don’t even think about how it will sound until it’s out of your mouth and Joel’s brow twitches slightly. “So, uh, welcome to Jackson, neighbor.” You offer, even if you don’t live nearby. Because you’re single, you live in an apartment.

Joel nods, still cautious and confused as you offer him a little wave and he frowns when his thought is “how cute.” He doesn’t think of anything as cute, not since Sarah would cuddle her teddy bear when she fell asleep. He sighs, shutting the door when you bounce off the porch and he looks down at the muffin, picking one up to take a big bite out and groans, “fuck, those are good.” He mutters to himself as he strides into the kitchen just as Ellie comes through the front door, shrugging off her jacket, and she strides into the kitchen to see Joel with a muffin in his hand. “Muffins?” She guesses even though she only saw them in books. Baked goods were really a common commodity in the QZ. Joel nods, “neighbor brought them over.” He explains after he swallows and Ellie eagerly grabs one, “fuck yeah.” She declares, taking a big bite and she groans at the taste. Joel looks at the muffin in his hand, thinking about the pretty woman who made them for him. She won’t be back…she will realize he’s not someone you want as your neighbor.

You don’t hear anything back from him, although it’s to be expected. You didn’t exactly tell him where to find you. You had hoped that he would ask around, maybe using the basket as an excuse to track you down. Still, you see Ellie around town for the next few days and spot Joel once or twice, but he’s always talking to Tommy and Maria, obviously discussing something serious. You don’t see him at dinner in the dining hall though. Making you decide that the perfect excuse to visit again would be dropping off the casserole you had made. Calling yourself an idiot as you once again wait on the porch for someone to answer the door.

Joel adjusts the reading glasses that were gifted to him by Tommy as a joke for being officially an old man but he has found himself reluctantly reaching for them for reading things. He makes his way to the front door, wondering if Ellie forgot her keys and he is surprised when he sees you standing there. “Uh, hi.” He says your name, stomach twisting at the sight of you.

You can’t help but grin, a silly little happy grin because he remembered your name. “Hi.” He doesn’t open the door wider, doesn’t offer to let you come inside. Still guarded and there’s confusion in his eyes. Making you wonder when the last time he had someone just be nice to him. “I never see you in the dining hall.” You announce. “Maybe you don’t like crowds? Or people?” You chuckle slightly but he just looks at you, his eyes heavy on you and you shift. “Anyway, I, uh, I made this casserole.” You love a good, hearty casserole. It’s comforting and warming, reminding you of better times. “For you.” You add. “The casserole is for you. And Ellie.”

Joel looks down at the dish in your hand, eyebrows raising slightly, “I, uh, I still have your other basket.” He remembers, scratching his jaw, “do you - Ellie is out and I ain’t really lookin’ forward to eatin’ alone. You wanna come in and have some of this?” He asks, not wanting to be alone despite that being selfish.

“Y-yeah.” You nod, heart pounding at the unsure look on his face. As if he was expecting you to say no. “I’d like that. I don’t like eating alone either.” You shrug slightly. “Unless I’m pissed at the world and don’t want to talk.” You admit with a roll of your eyes. “Because for some reason, people can’t just sit with you and not talk.”

Joel snorts, nodding his head, “Ellie never shuts up.” He confesses, making you chuckle as you follow him into the house after he turns and makes his way into the house he’s still trying to be comfortable enough in to call home. “You want a beer?” He asks, thankful Tommy brought them over today and he’s had them cooling since they arrived.

“Sure.” You set the casserole down on the counter when he guides you into the kitchen. It’s nice, the old appliances are still sitting on the counters although they look like they haven’t been used. Except for the coffee maker. It still holds a cup of coffee in the carafe from where he had made some this morning. “What was the old saying? ‘It’s five o’clock somewhere.’ Well, it’s past five now, so I think we are good and I’m not going on a recon tomorrow.”

He frowns, trying to figure out where the plates are. He hasn’t memorized the kitchen set up just yet so he opens a few cabinets before he finds them. He sets them down on the table and quickly locates the silverware. “It smells really good.” He compliments you, wanting you to know he appreciates this, even if he can’t really express it.

“Thanks.” You watch him stumble around his own kitchen, now looking for cups and you tilt your head before you move to arrange the plates in front of the chairs. “You know, you should really reorganize the kitchen how you want it.” You suggest. “It’s your house now. Not like the old owners are going to be upset.”

Joel pauses at your words, surprised you observed him like you did. He feels a little exposed and he finds the cups. After setting them down, he opens the fridge to pull out two beers. “I haven’t been here long.” He reveals even though you know that, “I don’t remember the last time I had a kitchen like this.”

“You’ll get used to it faster than you believe possible.” You promise as you move to shift the casserole to the table in the middle. “It’s honestly nice, trying to rebuild a little bit of the past. Maybe improve it.”

He shifts to sit down, watching you as you take the seat opposite him, and he remembers he’s wearing the glasses. He reaches up to take them off, folding them, and he reaches for the serving spoon at the same time as you. When your fingers brush his, his heart flutters in his chest. “You first.” He insists, handing you the spoon.

It’s almost a shame that he took off his glasses. It gave him an almost scholarly appearance, although without him, he’s just hot. He even has manners, which makes you smile as you dip out a portion and turn the spoon around towards him. “Thank you.” You murmur.

He serves himself and lifts his full cup after pouring the beers out. “Thanks for dinner.” He murmurs, taking a sip of the beer that’s the equivalent to Michelob Ultra. Basically water but in these times beggars can’t be choosers. He sets his beer down and picks up the spoon, taking his first bite, and he groans at the taste of your cooking.

You hope that’s a good groan and not one that means he hates it. You take a bite yourself and feel like it’s good. It has to be, because Joel digs in a little faster. Not hunched over his food like some do, but the scrape of the spoon is quicker than yours. Smiling, you reach for your beer and take a sip.

He’s not used to eating slowly. He’s used to eating to survive and he is still in that habit. Shoving food in until he sees your eyes and he slows down. He swallows his bite, knowing he should say something. “It’s really good.” He gestures his spoon towards the food.

“I’m glad you like it.” He sounds gruff, but you think that’s just the way he talks. You don’t take offense to it. “Because there’s enough for leftovers.” You crack a grin and look around. “And I don’t see any evidence of sneaking one of the dogs home.” You joke. The dogs are trained to sniff out infected, treated well, but definitely not allowed to be kept as pets.

He chuckles for a moment, setting his spoon down, “the dogs would definitely love your cooking. Ellie, uh, she really liked the muffins. Kid ain’t had one because of the outbreak and the QZ didn’t exactly have a Panera.” He jokes quietly.

“I couldn’t imagine they did.” You like the fact that he can make a joke. The little half smile that curves his lips makes you want to see a full one. “Although coffee would be the most important thing to me.” You admit. “Nothing better than a cup of hot coffee, especially first thing in the morning.”

He nods, “absolutely. One thing I missed all those days on the road…cup of coffee. Could do without food. Could do without…well, without sex.” He says honestly, “but coffee? Especially Ellie tellin’ me these stupid puns all day.” He gently rolls his eyes but his gesture is full of affection.

There’s obviously a fatherly love for the girl, you can tell by the way his voice changes, softens. It makes you smile, even if your entire body had lit up when the word ‘sex’ had dripped off his tongue. “Coffee and sex makes for the best morning though.” You chuckle. “You can survive anything then. Even puns.”

He snorts, “true. Folgers and an orgasm ain’t a bad way to start the day.” He chuckles, “not in that order.” He adds after a beat and he continues eating, spoon scraping the plate. “Where did you learn to cook?” He asks, curious if you taught yourself or a family member taught you.

“The group I was in before Jackson recon found me.” You smile. “There was an old woman who served as our cook. No matter how low we were on supplies, she could make it feel like a feast.” You shrug. “She taught me, and so I volunteer in the kitchens sometimes.”

Joel nods, “you got skills, sweetheart.” He smiles and looks down at his plate as you smile at him. “What happened to your group?” He asks, curious because everyone has a story, everyone has a tragedy.

“Dead.” Your group had been unfortunately softer than needed in this harsh world and hadn’t put down someone infected right away. “About a hundred miles from here.”

He taps his spoon against the plate, “shit. I’m so-sorry.” He murmurs, knowing that he has seen some shit go down in groups. “Well, I’m glad you ain’t one of them.” He murmurs until he catches himself, “otherwise I would be eatin’ stale crackers and jerky.”

You chuckle softly. “Thanks.” You shrug. “And you came out here from Boston to find Tommy?” Everyone has heard the story, you just think that it’s amazing. The show of loyalty makes your heart flutter.

Joel nods, “yeah. He, uh, didn’t exactly tell me he had found fuckin’ apocalyptic paradise and got married with a kid on the way, I thought he was in the middle of nowhere.” He confesses, “but I brought Ellie along with me and yeah, she’s a good kid.”

“You thought he was in trouble and came to the rescue.” It makes him even more admirable in your opinion and it’s amazing you aren’t just simpering in a puddle at his feet. “I know that the town has been buzzing. You used to build? Before all of the end of the world shit?” Fuck, in his prime, on a construction site? Joel Miller would have been fucking eye candy to you.

Joel nods, feeling like that career was a lifetime ago. He’s developed other skill sets, ones he never imagined having to learn back when he was building houses for a living. “Yeah. Me and Tommy had our own business.” He reveals, “was damn good at it.” He boasts and smiles softly at some of the jobs he did. “I can help out around town.” He offers, knowing he’s already offered that to Maria. He wants to earn his place here.

“That’s impressive.” You have a competency kink and you know it, so that just makes him even more attractive. “I know we will be grateful. Everyone pitches in, but people who had knowledge before all of this, they are important.”

“Not quite as useful as a doctor but I’ll do my best.” He offers you a small chuckle until he finishes his dinner. “I can’t really cook for shit other than rabbits and uh, things I catch like fish so that was really good.” He compliments you, “thank you.” He murmurs, wanting you to know he appreciates it.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He’s a little more friendly now, but you don’t want to push him, knowing that he’s not one for a lot of chit chat. “Let me help clean up and I’ll let you enjoy your evening.” You offer. “I doubt you’re going to the movie tonight?”

He wants to say more but he’s not capable. Ellie did all the talking when they were traveling. He sighs, shaking his head, “not really my scene.” He confesses, “no one wants me around.” He admits what he’s been thinking since he arrived in Jackson. “Here, lemme clean up.” He orders, taking the plate from your hand.

You don’t think that is true, but you just hum. “I’ll cover the casserole and put it in the fridge for you.” You stand and reach for the pan at the same time that Joel does and you laugh. “I can help.”

You seem to be unable to resist and he knows when to relent. He nods, “I appreciate that.” He says softly as he carries the plates over to the sink to rinse them off. It’s still crazy to have running water like this. He’s still trying to adapt to living like he did twenty years ago.

There’s a soft silence between you as you work. It’s not heavy, or expectant. It’s actually kind of nice. Once the food is stored away and the dishes are resting in the drying rack, there’s nothing keeping you here. “Well, I better go.” You murmur, not sure of what to say, or how to indicate that you would stay if he asked you too. He probably doesn’t anyway, finding you annoying and wanting to be rid of you. “I’ll take my basket back though.”

He wants to ask you to stay because he’s alone and he doesn’t want to get too used to being alone. He doesn’t say that though, he nods, “of course.” He walks over to where he stored it, handing it back to you, and he scratches the back of his head, “thanks…for, you know, the casserole and the muffins.”

“You’re welcome.” You flash a smile and then turn around to walk down the porch steps, already planning the next thing you’ll drop by with. 

Over the course of next two weeks, you bring him a blackberry pie, another casserole and a beautiful teal plaid shirt you had traded a gallon of blackberries to Seth for. The crotchety older man didn’t know why you wanted a shirt he didn’t like, but you knew that it would look amazing on Joel. Still, since that first dinner with him, nothing had gone past awkward conversations at his door and you wondered if he just wasn’t interested in you.

Joel adjusts the shirt he’s wearing - the one that you got him - as he stands outside your door. The small box suddenly feels heavy and he feels dumb and as soon as he knocks, he wants to stride off. Before he can step away, you open your door and his chest suddenly feels tight. “Hey.” You greet him with a smile and he nods, “hi.” He shuffles from one foot to the other, “I, uh, brought you something.”

“Oh!” Your eyes widen and they drop down to the box in his hand. “Uh, come in.” You open the door wider, surprised and pleased that he had figured out where you live. “Sorry about the mess.” You apologize, gesturing to the messy sofa with a throw tossed aside from where you were reading with a cup of coffee.

He snorts, “don’t even worry about it.” He shakes his head, “Ellie makes a mess.” He chuckles, stepping into your place. “I, uh, wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” He murmurs, “so, uh, I made you this.” He holds out the box.

Your heart pounds in your chest when you take the box from him. “Wow.” You murmur softly. “I don’t know what to say.” You don’t even know what it is, but you are touched by his thoughtfulness. “Thank you.” You look back at him. “Do you want a cup of coffee?”

He nods, a little nervous, and his stomach twists at the thought of you not liking the gift he’s spent hours making for you. He hasn’t had the luxury of a hobby, not for years…not really since before Sarah was born. So it’s been strange to spend time working on something without there being a financial gain or to keep alive. He watches you make your way into the kitchen, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You set the box down carefully and pull a mug off the open shelves that make up the top of your kitchen. “I have some fresh milk if you want?” You offer as you pour him a cup.

He shakes his head, “black is good. I ain’t drank it any other way since I started drinkin’ it.” He confesses, taking a seat at your kitchen table after you gesture for him to sit.

“Same.” You admit. “When I was younger, fuck, I thought coffee was nasty. But now?” You roll your eyes as you bring the box over to the table with your own cup. “Now, I’ll open this.” You promise, sitting down and trying not to let the thrill of being given a gift outweigh practicality. You smile at him before taking off the small lid and gasping at the sight of a small wooden figure.

He’s nervous. Fuck, he hates to admit that but he likes you. Even if he’s too old to think about a relationship and you should be avoiding him like everyone else. “It’s, uh, it’s not anything that special.” He rushes out before you take the figure out of the box.

“Not special?” You huff, shaking your head as you run your finger over the small bird. “It’s beautiful.” You murmur. “It must have taken a lot of time.” Which makes it more special. He has taken the time to make something. “I love it.”

His heart flutters at the smile you give him, “you said your mom used to call you little bird so, uh, I thought I’d whittle one. I ain’t that good. I haven’t done anything like that for years.” He confesses, “it’s not my best work.” He self deprecates, not wanting you to say you like it if you don’t.

You practically melt when you hear it’s not something random, he had made it for you. “No, it’s beautiful.” You insist. The imperfections make it that much more special to you. “I-“ you blink back tears. “I think it might be the best thing anyone has ever given me.”

He blushes a little, ducking his head, and he clears his throat. "I'm glad you like it." He murmurs, "it's - I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me." He reveals, tapping his fingers on his mug as he watches you admire the woodwork.

“It was nothing.” You hum, still admiring the little figure. Part of you wonders if he is giving you something out of guilt or perhaps he’s realized you are interested in him.

You're quiet as you touch the figure and Joel doesn't find it awkward. He isn't a stranger to silence. He tilts his head slightly as he looks at you, "why?" He asks softly and you turn to look at him. "Why what?" You frown and Joel clears his throat, "why - why have you done so much for me?"

You’re a little embarrassed when he asks, but you clear your throat. “I wanted to make you feel welcomed.” It’s true, but not completely true and from the doubtful way Joel eyes you, you know it doesn’t believe that. At least he’s not looking at you suspiciously. “I did. And I -“ you hesitate. “I wanted to see if you were as handsome up close as I thought you were.” You admit. “You are, by the way. Very handsome.”

He is surprised by your comment, cheeks flushing a little more and he turns his head to look at your sink. He almost chokes on his breath when it hits him that you are saying he’s handsome. You. “I, um, thanks.” He mutters awkwardly and you seem to shrink back a little, “you’re- you’re great too.” He says and your smile falls, your brow furrowing without your awareness and Joel immediately realizes his mistake. “And gorgeous. Really like - I think you’re beautiful. Inside and out.” He rushes out, wanting to make this right.

“It’s okay.” You are a little disappointed, but not surprised. He’s not interested. You had heard rumors that he had been with a woman until he had lost her on his way to Jackson. You will just swallow down your little crush and go about your life. “You don’t need to make me feel better.” You promise. “I’m a big girl.”

His brow furrows at your words, confused because he just paid you a compliment and you think he’s making it up. He reaches out to cup your cheek, turning your head towards him. “You have any idea how often I think about you? About your smile, your laugh, the way your nose does that little bunching thing when you’re confused? I think about you all the time but I don’t deserve you. I’ve done bad things. My hands are bloody and I don’t deserve a happy ending. I cannot taint you with my fuckin’ sins. I cannot add that to the guilt that drowns me every damn day.” He explains, hoping you understand.

“Everyone has blood on their hands.” You feel like you’re about to whimper, he’s so close to you, touching you. Like you would beg him to kiss you. “We’ve had to be different than before, that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve whatever happiness we can find now.”

Joel doesn't hesitate. He surges forward to press his lips to yours. Spurred on by your kind words, he tilts your head so he can kiss you like he's been imagining far too many times.

His lips are surprisingly soft, tender as he kisses you. It’s not nearly as rough as you imagined, but you can feel the repressed need underneath. Making you sigh as you curl into him, sinking deeper into the feeling as your head spins.

Having you kiss him back has his stomach twisting and he wants to deepen the kiss but it’s not time. You’re not some quick fuck to release stress and tension. He wants you - this - to be different. He nudges his nose against yours before he pulls back, caressing your cheek until his hand drops back to the table while he waits for see your reaction.

You whine slightly, a little protest, but you don’t try to pull him back in. “That was….” Your smile is soft. “Very good.” You hum, eyes fluttering after opening. “Um….yeah.” You are a little befuddled, but it’s not in a bad way. Like the promise of something sweeter has already been made.

He likes seeing you flustered, he realizes, and he wants to kiss you again, but for now, he settles for a small smile. “You- you wanna go to the movie night with me tomorrow?” He asks, knowing this is a huge step because he avoids the town events but he wants to treat you well.

Your eyes widen in surprise but you immediately nod as if you’re afraid he might take back the offer. “Yes. Yes.” You huff out in a rushed little laugh, feeling like a teenager being asked out by a boy you have a crush on. “I would like that.”

Joel nods, trying not to act like a teenage boy who just got the girl he likes to go on a movie date with him. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.” He promises, reaching for your hand, and he picks it up to kiss the back of it.

“I’ll see you then.” You promise with a small wink. “I’ll make some cookies for us to eat at the movie.”

He nods, nervous of being out beside you but he wants to make a life here and that means remembering how the world worked before it went to shit. “I’ll leave you to your evenin’.” He says after a moment, “I’m sure you’ll be wantin’ some peace.” He squeezes your hand and shifts to stand up from his seat.

“Okay.” You know that he needs to take things slow and it’s honestly a good idea since it’s not like either one of you can move away. Jackson is home and you’ll have to be in proximity to each other. “But only because I will see you tomorrow.” You tease as you walk him to the door.

His heart flutters at your words, smiling softly as he turns to look at you while he’s leaning against your door frame. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He leans in to kiss your cheek, hovering for a moment until he pulls away. Looking at you one last time before he disappears down the hall.

****

Joel reaches up to adjust his collar, stomach twisting with nerves like he’s a damn teenager going on his first date. In a way, it kinda is. He hasn’t dated since Sarah’s mom and he was a teenager back then. He waits for you to answer and when you do, his breath hitches at the sight of you standing there.

“Hi.” You smile softly as you take him in. He looks fresh from a shower and even his beard looks thinner, like he’s trimmed it. “You look great.” You compliment honestly. “I don’t know if I’m dressed up enough to be on your arm.” Everyone dresses practically, but you had picked the jeans that make your ass look the best and the prettiest top you have. Feeling like a teenager as you ripped through your small wardrobe.

He swallows harshly as he drags his dark eyes down your figure, “you look great too. Actually, you look- too damn good to hear out an asshole like me.” He chuckles humorlessly and you shake your head, reaching for his hand. That grounds him and his eyes meet yours. He licks his lips, staring at you for a moment. “Sorry. I ain’t - I’m out of practice. You ready to go?” He asks, not wanting to ruin this.

“Yeah.” You grab the container with the cookies that you had placed near the door. “I’ve heard that there’s gonna be a dance coming up.” You offer as you both step out of your apartment. “They want to do more of them. Promote community.”

His hand hovers over the small of your back as you make your way downstairs and out of your apartment. He glances around once you’re outside, still a little anxious being in a place that isn’t constantly under attack. He wants to ask if you want to go to the dance but that’s a bit too much for him unless he can hide in the shadows.

You don’t take offense when he doesn’t answer. You just walk by his side, smiling and calling out to people that you know as you make your way to the movie. It’s enough that he’s just here with you.

He walks alongside you, feeling a little anxious, but he’s determined to be there beside you. He wants to try, he wants to try for you. There’s a lot of people gathering for the movie and Joel tenses but you sense his unease, taking his hand to guide him to some chairs in the back row. You know he’d feel better there and he appreciates it, trying to ignore how everyone looks at him with a mixture of surprise and distrust.

Everyone is curious, craning their necks and looking at the both of you. They have asked about Joel to Tommy and Maria, but his brother and sister-in-law have kept their answers vague, respecting his privacy. Now you know that people will ask about you, since Joel tends to keep to himself. Instead of ignoring them, you nod and smile politely, knowing that Joel is probably glowering slightly. He’s just got a face that is always gonna look a little annoyed.

He hates how people stare but you squeeze his hand and he focuses on you instead as you guide him to your seats. When you’re seated, you set your purse down, opening it to hand him a flask and he frowns at it, “figured you could use it.” You wink and his heart flutters. You thought of everything. “Thanks.” He murmurs, his eyes on yours and he takes a swig to quell his anxiety.

You nod, reassuring him softly and soon the lights are dimming for the movie to begin, the projector in front of you coming to life. “Hope it’s not a boring movie.” You whisper to him with a slight giggle. “If it is, we might have to ditch.” You really just want him to know that if he wants to leave, you’ll be okay with that. Although he’s relaxing beside you. Reaching over, you take his free hand, keeping your eyes on the screen.

Your hand in his has him relaxing slightly and he nods, squeezing your hand back, the flask in his other hand, and he sighs, leaning in towards you, “thanks, sweetheart.” He murmurs before leaning back in his seat to watch a movie he hasn’t seen since Sarah was a little kid. He’s taken back to the memory of her sitting next to him in the movie theater, popcorn in hand, and her eyes wide in amazement at the movie.

You feel him tense beside you, looking over to see shadows in his eyes and you wonder if there’s something in his past that’s triggered by the movie. Everyone here has a past, something that they have struggled with since the end of the world. Even the ones that were born after the outbreak. It might be easier for them though, since this world is all they’ve ever known. “Do we need to leave?” You ask quietly, leaning in to smell the scent of soap mixed with wood and man. He smells wonderful and you could curl up into him.

He turns to look at you, surprised by your consideration, and he shakes his head. “No. No. I’m good.” He promises with a whisper, shifting to wrap his arm around your shoulders, wanting to feel you close to him as you ground him in the moment.

You hum softly, leaning into him and your arm rests on his thigh. It feels natural and you love how protected and safe you feel. You can’t even explain it, but Joel has never once made you nervous besides the attraction and the fear of making a fool of yourself. He’s a violent man, he’s done violent things, but he wouldn’t hurt you unless he was forced to. You know that.

Joel relaxes as he breathes in the clean scent of your soap and shampoo. You are warm and he allows himself this time to be absorbed into the movie. He doesn’t remember the last time he allowed the tension to leave his body. He’s always been on since the outbreak started. He absentmindedly rubs your arm and when the movie ends, he blinks, brought back to reality.

“That was pretty cute.” You decide, having never seen the movie before and you watch as others start to gather their trash and belongings. You don’t feel the need to move right now, unless Joel wants to sneak out before everyone else.

He nods, turning to look at you, “I went to see that at the movies with my daughter, Sarah.” He confesses, a soft smile on his lips. “She, uh, she was shot on Outbreak Day.” He reveals, flexing his fingers at the memory of her dying in his arms.

“Oh Joel.” Your heart shatters for him, watching the way his eyes reflect the devastation he must have felt that day and carried with him for the past twenty years. “I am so sorry.” You murmur softly, touching his arm and not trying to give him any platitudes beyond the simple touch.

He nods, jaw tightening as the memories hit him, but your touch seems to pull him out before he gets too buried under the past. He glances around at the nearly disappeared crowd, “you wanna go back to yours or we can go for a walk?” He offers, not wanting to let go of you just yet.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” You agree with a smile. “I normally go and check on the horses every evening.” You know he rides, when he left months ago, he had actually stolen a horse. Or rather, Tommy had said he had given him a horse. “Is that okay?”

He nods, standing up, and his joints ache, but he takes your hand as you make your way out of the barn. The night is chilly and he adjusts his jacket, “you cold?” He asks and you shake your head, “no, I'm good.” You promise and you take a slow walk to the stables.

It’s not too far, and the familiar scent of hay and horses calms you. “It’s so beautiful out here.” You smile softly as you both walk towards the stables. “And the town is growing, rumor has it, it’s gonna grow even faster now that you are here.”

Joel snorts, “yeah. Maria has all kinds of plans for this place. Between me and Tommy, it’s gonna be a construction zone.” He confesses, squeezing your hand as the moon rises in the sky.

“That’s good.” You smile, although it’s a little bittersweet. “We need people in Jackson. Otherwise all we are doing is just prolonging death.” You wish the world was different, but it’s not.

Joel chuckles, "true. Gotta have more kids." He hums, turning to look at you, "but I'll leave that to the younger men. Ain't no one needing me to be a daddy at my age." He declares, "there's enough men to make Jackson thrive in the future."

You could make a dirty joke, but you just shrug. “It’s not in the cards for me either, so I don’t worry about it.” Joel looks over at you with a frown, clearly confused but unsure of what to say. “Never been pregnant.” You admit. “Never even had a scare, not like there are fertility doctors nowadays, but I think that it’s not my fate.”

Joel frowns because he thinks you’d make a good mom but he won’t pour salt in a wound. “I kinda wish I’d gotten the snip before the world went to shit but I was in my mid 30s, wasn’t sure if I’d be a dad again, and I had Sarah. She was my life but I kinda wanted to have another kid back then. Now? I got Ellie.” He says without elaborating.

“She’s a good kid.” You assure him. She can be blunt and assertive, but that’s not a bad thing. Reaching the stables, you open the doors with a grin. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen.” You coo. “The horses are kinda like my kids.” You tell him. “They are like temperamental toddlers sometimes.”

He snorts, walking over to the horses. He slides his palm along his nose, smiling when the horse snorts. “They kinda are like toddlers.” He agrees, “and you do a good job of looking after them.” He adds, watching you as you stroke the horse.

“They are probably the most vital assets we have, besides the dogs.” You admit. “I know they are animals, but they are also a part of our community, our future.” You look over at Joel. “Just like you and Ellie are.”

He chuckles, stepping closer to you. “You are the future.” He murmurs, his hand coming up to slide along your arm until he is taking your hand in his. He tugs you close and cups your cheek with his free hand. “You are always on my mind.” He admits softly, caressing your cheek.

“It was the muffins, wasn’t it?” You tease, your own hands pulling him closer, enjoying the broadness of him as you wrap your arms around him. He chuckles again, the best sound in the world to you right now. “So are you going to kiss me Joel?” You demand. “I know I’m a little rusty, but I know a date usually ends with kissing.”

His eyes meet yours, dark and intense. He’s nervous and he feels stupid for being so nervous when he’s a grown man. He leans his head towards yours, gently brushing his lips against your softer ones. His calloused hand caressing your cheek while he kisses you.

You sigh softly, eyes fluttering closed while the horse in the stall next to you shifts, annoyed that she’s not being petted anymore. Not that you realize that. You can’t think of anything but Joel kissing you.

You’re so soft and sweet, leaning into him and your hand caresses your chest. He knows you can feel his heart pounding and he should be more confident but the last woman he kissed was Tess…even his kisses to her were few and far between. He kisses you softly, not wanting you to see the dark side of him just yet.

You can tell that he’s holding back, and you don’t mind it. This is getting to know each other and you won’t push him for more than he wants to give. Finally Shimmer butts her head against your shoulder to get your attention, breaking up the kiss and making you giggle. “Jealous, pretty girl?” You coo, turning towards her to pet her nose. “You should be.”

Joel watches you, a soft smile on his face as he watches you interact with the horse. Your words make his stomach flutter, and he sighs, “I should be gettin’ you home.” He glances out the stable opening to the sky.

You would like to be with him a little longer, but you just nod. “That sounds good.” You hum softly. “I’m sure you are busy tomorrow. Are you working on the gates?” You ask, aware that the council had voted on improving defense systems for the town.

He nods, "yeah. Gonna be heading out on patrol." He confirms, "gotta be up at eight." He doesn't want to leave you but he needs to let you get some sleep. He knows you could wake up in the morning and realize that the town is scared of him and ultimately reject him. He is preparing for that to happen. You are too good for him. He takes your hand again, guiding you away from the stables and back to your apartment building.

You don’t talk as you walk, but again, the silence isn’t stifling. It’s really rather nice. Just two people, enjoying the night together. When you are at your door, you open it and turn to him. “I had a nice night.” You promise. “I would invite you in, but I don’t think you’re ready for that and I don’t want to wonder if you don’t want me.” You admit, leaning in to press your lips to his.

His hands find your waist, dragging you closer as he kisses you. He pulls back after a moment, "you don't have to wonder. I want you. I just - I don't want to ruin you." He confesses his fear, "I don't want you to end up hating me."

You can’t help but laugh at his comment. “I’m not going to hate you.” You promise, reaching up and caressing his whisker rough cheek. “I’ve been chasing you, remember?” You have been throwing yourself at him to get his attention. “If you want to come inside, I want you in my bed tonight. If you want to wait, I’ll just touch myself and think about you in my bed.”

His cock twitches in his pants at the thought of you touching yourself. His hands squeeze your hips, pulling you even closer to him. He groans when your body presses into his, and he loves it. "Let me come inside and I want to bury my face in your pussy. I don't- I don't deserve to fuck you yet. Lemme taste you." He murmurs, nudging his nose against yours.

You huff, not agreeing with his assessment of him not deserving, but your nod is accompanied by grabbing his hand and stepping back through the door to tug him with you. You smirk when he kicks the door closed and throws the lock before you launch yourself at him. Kissing him again with more passion than before.

He groans, unable to stop himself as he lets you guide him through your apartment. Now that you’ve given him permission, his hands slide along your form, squeezing your ass. He loves how your fingers grip his shirt and he slides his tongue into your mouth.

There’s no hesitation right now. Just the jittery anticipation that makes your stomach feel like you’ve swallowed butterflies and your core flutters wildly. His taste is perfect, warm and rich, his tongue skillfully making you melt as your hands let go of his shirt to push his jacket off his string shoulders.

He walks you backwards, trying to navigate your apartment to find your bedroom while his jacket drops to the floor. He groans into your mouth, pulling back when you stumble into your bedroom and your jacket has joined his. He pushes on your chest to push you backwards into your bed and his hands find your boots, working on pulling them off your feet.

“Eager. I like that.” You aren’t passive, leaning up to pull your shirt over your head to reveal the practical bra you are wearing underneath. There’s little luxury for sexy items, especially now. “Fuck you are so sexy.” You moan, loving the darkening look in his eyes.

He wants to scoff in disbelief that a pretty thing like you would find him sexy but instead, he decides to prove it to you. He unbuttons your pants and pulls them down your legs, his cock already pressing against his zipper as he watches you lift up to unclip your bra. “You’re goddamn sexy.” He rasps, tossing your pants aside so he can slide his hands up the length of your legs until his fingers are hooked in your panties. “Can I taste you, sweetheart?” He asks, dark eyes on yours until they flick down to your core.

“You can do anything you want to me, handsome.” Your pussy aches for him to touch you, taste you. It’s been a long goddamn time since you’ve had a lover and you are eager to see how the two of you are together.

He drags his panties down your legs, tossing them over his shoulder and his hands slide back along your thighs until he’s pushing them apart to expose your folds. Soft curls surround your sex and Joel groans when your heady scent hits his nose. He leans in, slowly pressing kisses to your thighs as he shifts closer until his tongue is sliding through your folds.

You moan so loud that you embarrass yourself. The feeling that races through you is enough to make your thighs squeeze around his head, but his strong hands grip your thighs and pull them apart. “Jesus, fuck.” You whimper, eyes fixed on his head between your legs. “That- God, I haven’t felt this in so long.”

He chuckles, sliding into the ease of making a woman feel good. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to take his time and savor a woman but right now, he isn’t in a rush. His tongue flicks over your clit, loving the way you tangle your fingers in his hair while he pushes his tongue deep.

You don’t know his sexual past, but his previous lovers have been lucky as fuck if they experienced half of the talent in his tongue. “Fuck Joel,” you pant breathlessly. “That feels so good. You must have majored in pussy eating in college.”

He chuckles into your folds, amused by how easily wrecked you are. He slides his tongue up to flick over your clit and he sucks on it, shaking his head and your cry makes his cock twitch in his pants.

He’s so fucking gorgeous, making you cry out as he tears you apart with his mouth. “Fuck, I can’t believe you’re eating my pussy. You know how long I’ve imagined you? Since the first day I saw you. I knew I wanted to get to know you. So fucking pleased when you were single.”

Your words unravel him and he grinds into the edge of your bed. Groaning your name but it’s indistinguishable in your folds as he greedily absorbs your dirty confession. His hands squeeze your thighs, keeping them pushed apart.

He is going to have his way. That is obvious from the way he handles you. He’s not rough, but he’s focused, determined. You had heard from Tommy that he had saved Ellie’s life from a group of men when he had been seriously injured. He hadn’t been trying to dissuade you from your pursuit of Joel, but he had wanted you to know that there are some things about Joel that could be seen as a caution sign. You see it as his willingness to do what needs to be done. Now he’s using that same focus on you, “Fuck!” You squeal when he pulls your clit into his mouth, hips trying to buck up, but he holds you in place. “I’m gonna cum!”

He needs to hear it, feel it. When your cry echoes in your tiny bedroom, your fingers tugging on his silver streaked hair, and your thighs squeezing his head, he groans. While you cum, he grinds into the mattress, his cock twitching in his pants as he cums in them like a fucking teenager.

You are completely unaware, riding out the best orgasm you’ve had in years and he hadn’t even fingered you. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Joel.” You whimper. “Fuck me.” You beg. “You’ve earned it, fuck yeah, you deserve to fuck me.”

His cheeks immediately redden when he comes back to his senses and your words hit him like ice cold water. "I- I didn't - shit." He hisses, stomach twisting with embarrassment as he shifts to stand up, the front of his pants wet.

You frown, confused by his upset tone. Eyes fluttering open and you blink to focus on him. Then you see the dark spot. “Oh.” You bite your lip, knowing he won’t appreciate a smirk, but it’s kind of sexy that he was so turned on that he shot his load.

"I'm so sorry." He chokes, shuffling back from your bed and he stumbles through your apartment trying to find his coat. "Joel?" You frown, shifting off the bed, "Joel?" You make your way through your apartment just as the front door slams, "Joel!" You shout but he's gone. He's thankful there's no one out as he makes his way home, his jacket not concealing his pants, and he hates how he disappointed you. You'll probably tell your friends, laugh about it, and he will go back to the shadows where he belongs.

You get up and wrap a robe around your body, opening the door to see if Joel is outside. He’s nowhere nearby and you consider getting dressed and going to his house, but you know he would just ignore you. You’ll give him tonight but he won’t just run out without a better damn reason than premature ejaculation again.

****

Joel groans when he wakes up, he hardly slept from the embarrassment of cumming in his pants because you sounded so fucking good when you came on his tongue. He rubs his face and knows he has to get ready for patrol. That also means seeing you in the stables. He groans as his joints ache when he shifts from his bed, and soon he’s stepping into the stables to collect a horse. You’re there, helping another patroller saddle up, and he feels the blush creep onto his cheeks as he waits for you to see the other patroller off.

You’re surprised when you see Joel come slinking into the stables and you half expected him to try to race out of there with his horse. You don’t say anything, just get your rider out. Surprised to see him standing by the horse he had been assigned last time. “Good morning.” You are alone in the stalls and you step closer to him. “If I touch you, are you gonna run away again?” You ask.

He ducks his head, swallowing harshly. “I - shit. I’m sorry. I, uh, fuck. I don’t know why- it’s that- it’s been a while and I’m on the way to sixty and I fucking came in my pants without you even touching me. I was embarrassed.” He knows there’s no point but doing anything but tell you the truth.

You snort softly, not wanting him to think that you are mocking him. “Fuck, it’s a compliment.” You huff, shrugging slightly. “You were that turned on by eating my pussy? By just touching me? In my mind, that just means I was doing something right, even if it has been a long time since someone touched you.” You bite your lip, biting back the urge to offer to touch him right now. He probably wouldn’t accept a blow job in a stall in a horse barn.

Joel glances around, glad that no one is here to hear your conversation and his cock twitches at your words. He's relieved you aren't laughing at him. "I've - I haven't done that since - well, I don't think I ever have. Sweetheart...I ain't - can I try again? Later?" He asks, wanting to show you what he can do.

You lift a brow, this time your lips curving up. “I think I would be crazy to turn that down.” You step a little closer to him, “you know that you are early for your patrol, right?” You murmur. “Plenty of time to go to the back stall and work out a little tension before you go out?” You reach for his hand. “Might help you focus?”

He tilts his head, squeezing your hand, “you sure?” He asks, his voice lowering at the idea of touching you again. You nod, guiding him to the back stall, and it’s like a switch has been flicked on as he drags you close. He cups your cheek, tilting your head to his as he presses his lips to yours.

You let him kiss you, feeling your body light up in pleasure but before he can get farther than cupping your ass, you are pushing him back. Joel frowns in confusion but you press your lips to his reassuringly and drop down to your knees in front of him to smirk up at him as you reach for his belt buckle.

“Darlin’ you don’t have to-” You cut him off by shaking your head and telling him to shush. You pull down the zipper and smile at him, his cock hardening under your naughty gaze as you reach into his pants to pull his cock free.

“Shit.” Joel hisses, twitching in your hand as you squeeze him and start to pump him. “Fuck, baby, you’ve got a gorgeous cock.” Your mouth waters as you greedily take in the sight of him as he sways on his feet slightly, leaning back against the wall of the stall as he looks down at you. “Thick, long. Goddamn I can’t wait to see how you feel inside me.” You clench around nothing. “But right now, I want to see how you taste.” You lean and take the head of his cock into your mouth.

He groans as he watches you wrap your lips around his cock. Your mouth is hot and wet and he is already throbbing in your mouth. “So fuckin’ pretty.” He rasps, caressing your cheek as you start to bob your head to work his cock into your mouth.

You know that someone could come into the stables, but that just makes it a little more exciting for you. Your pussy soaked as you take him deeper, listening to him groan and feeling his stomach lurch under the palm of your hand laying against it. Your lips stretch around him and he hits the back of your throat easily with more to take.

He can’t believe you’re on your knees for him right now. You look so fucking gorgeous and your jaw seems to loosen so you can take him deeper. “Fuck. So goddamn good.” He pants, glad that he doesn’t seem to be shooting his load too soon as you take him in your mouth over and over. His hand grips the metal rack on the wall as the other caresses your cheek.

Your hand moves to his hip, around to his ass as you look up at him. Watching his jaw clench. He looks wrecked, in the best possible way as you suck his cock. Pressing him, encouraging him to rock his hips forward. You can take everything he gives you and you want him to enjoy this.

He pants, watching you as his chest heaves. It's barely past 7am and here you are on your knees for him. He knows he will be thinking about you all damn day now. "Fuck baby. Feel so fuckin' good. Look at you, takin' my cock like that." He growls, tongue loosened by your mouth. He unconsciously rocks his hips like you want and his eyes widen when you choke. You hum around him, barely shaking your head when he shifts to pull away, and your fingers dig into the meat of his ass to keep him down your throat. A move that makes his stomach twist and his cock twitch violently. "Fuck, gonna make me cum if you keep it up." He warns you with a wrecked growl.

You chuckle around him, the sound vibrating up his cock. That’s why you are doing this, to make him cum. Your eyes are watering, but you keep swallowing around him as you bob your head. Wanting to taste his load and swallow him down. Joel chokes out your name and you feel him tense. Knowing that he is so close to cumming. You hum again, eyes fixed on his face so you can watch him. Wanting to see how gorgeous he looks when he falls apart on purpose.

He knows this is so fucking wrong but he can’t help it. He chokes as his cock pulses inside your mouth, a gasp your only warning that he’s cumming. You taste the salty seed as he clings to the metal rack, barely able to stand as you rock his world with your mouth.

The thick spurt of cum coats the back of your throat and fills your mouth. Making you moan as you start to swallow. Trying and failing to swallow every drop as some slides down your jaw. His head tilts back and his growl of pleasure is probably the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. Only stopping when his cock stops twitching and you pull off of him with a soft pop, panting as you lick at the side of your mouth.

He is certain he’s stopped breathing. “Fuck me.” He mutters and you giggle, looking up at him. “I really wanna fuck you but I gotta go on patrol and I need some time to recover. Lemme see you tonight.” He pleads, “need to see you.”

You push to your feet and reach down to tuck him back into his jeans. “Come over when you get back from patrol.” You order softly. “Johnny will be here tonight to put the horses away.” You lean in to kiss his cheek, not sure about how he feels about kissing you with his cum on your tongue. “Be safe, handsome.”

He cups your cheek, uncaring of the taste of his cum on your lips, and he brings your mouth to his so he can kiss you. He slides his tongue into your mouth, wanting to devastate you with his kiss until he steps back, “see ya later, baby.”

“See you later.” You wink and step back as the stable doors open. “Let’s get you saddled up.” You call out a little louder and step out of the stall to give him an extra minute to compose himself. “Tommy. Are you going out this morning?” You greet his brother with a smile.

Joel’s eyes widen at his brother’s name and he runs his hand through his hair, tugging on his shirt before he leaves the stall and finds you talking to his brother. Tommy frowns when he sees how flustered his brother is and his frown shifts into a smirk, “mornin’.” He greets Joel who grunts back. Soon enough, the two men are riding out for patrol, Joel looking over his shoulder at you for a second.

Tommy catches the glance and smirks to himself, shifting in his saddles as he looks ahead. “Good morning?” He asks innocently enough. “You look a little….light on your feet.”

Joel grips the reins a little tighter, “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” He murmurs and Tommy snorts, “you looked like a man who got his world rocked in a stable stall.” Tommy says bluntly and Joel ducks his head, “she, uh, we - it’s just started.” He confesses softly.

“Bullshit.” Tommy shakes his head, wondering how his older brother could be so obtuse about things for a man who can normally figure anyone out. “She’s been chasing after you for weeks.” He looks around after they clear the gate and starts the loop around the town. Today is to find any weakness that needs to be shored up. “Everyone in town knew that she was courting you.”

Joel huffs, shaking his head, “she has just been nice.” He tries to justify how nice you’ve been and Tommy snorts, “more than nice. She’s been wanting to jump your bones.” Joel bites his lip, “I’m too fucking old for her. Or anyone.”

“She doesn’t think so.” He points out with a grin. “Been rootin’ about for information on you. Trying to be real casual about it, but she has it bad for my older brother.” Honestly, Tommy’s glad for it. Since Tess, he’s been all alone and whether or not he admits it, Joel needs someone to take care of. It’s a part of who he is.

Joel’s heart thumps at that revelation and he almost wants to ride back to town and find you. “She will realize who I am soon enough.” He grunts and Tommy rolls his eyes, “whatever you say.”

Joel huffs and falls quiet again. Tommy doesn’t push it, instead he starts talking about the plans they want to implement for defense and Joel gives some suggestions on fortifications.

**** 

Joel arrives back at the stables with Tommy and you’re waiting, eyes lighting up when you see Joel and his stomach twists at how eager you are to see him. The memory of your lips wrapped around his cock hits him and he twitches in his pants. Tommy quickly dismounts, thanking you for helping, and he slaps Joel on the shoulder once his boots hit the ground. “See ya later, man.” He raises his eyebrows at Joel when you’re not looking and Joel huffs when his brother leaves you alone. “You need help?” He offers, not wanting to leave just yet.

“If you want.” They weren’t gone as long as you expected them to be, the horses are not tired. “I’m just going to take the saddles off and brush them down quickly before putting on their blankets and feeding them.” You explain. “Did your patrol go alright? You weren’t out long.”

Joel nods, “it was fine. We found some places that need reinforcement but it was quiet out there.” He admits, “always makes me fucking nervous when it’s quiet.” He confesses, “I always think somethings gonna happen. Like this place is gonna go to shit and I’ll end up back out there.” He jerks his chin as he works on removing the saddle of his horse.

“I worry about that too.” You admit, working on taking the saddle from Tommy’s horse. You know he had wanted to get back to Maria as quickly as possible since she was due any second now. The baby was overdue actually, and everyone was keeping an eye on her. “Raiders worry me the most, honestly. The clickers are bad, but humans are worse.

Joel nods, “we gotta keep this place safe and not get complacent. The day will come where shit hits the fan and we need to be prepared.” He says firmly, working efficiently to get the horse ready after riding. “You still want me to come over later?” He asks, not wanting to assume.

“If you want to.” You don’t want to push him, and you know that he might need to pause or even take a step back. “What do you want to do?” The blanket is secured and you guide Betsy back to her stall before filling her food bucket with oats. “I’m going to let you decide.”

He waits until you are done, striding over to you, and he grips your chin to lift your eyes to his. "I want to come over to your place, strip you down, kiss and bite every inch of your skin, and then I want to fuck you until you soak me and you can't remember anything but my name."

You could melt into a puddle on the floor right now from the possessive look in his eyes and the rough words. They paint the most delicious picture in your mind. “Do you want to eat dinner before or after you fuck me?” You ask breathlessly.

“After.” He says, knowing he won’t be able to wait and watch you eat dinner before he has you. “You’ll need it after I fuck you.” He promises, “go home. I’ll see you at yours in a few hours. I want you naked when I arrive.” He orders, leaning in to softly kiss your lips. Now that you’ve unlocked his desires, he’s going to give you exactly what you want. He pulls back before you can deepen the kiss, a whimper leaning your lips, and he winks, turning to stride out the stables.

Your knees are weak, the man is positively deadly when he decides to become self-assured in his abilities. He doesn’t give you an exact time and you know he did that on purpose. Wanting you to anticipate his arrival. You finish up with the horses and hurry back to your apartment, immediately stripping down to climb into a bath and scrub every inch of your skin. You want everything to go well tonight and you think that it will, given his cocky attitude and that sexy wink.

Joel tries to concentrate for the rest of the day, showering after his patrol, and he groans when he thinks of you on your knees, the way you looked at him. His cock hardens again and he can't help but start to pump his cock. The image of you burned into his retinas and he swears he will remember that until the day he dies. Groaning, he rests his forehead against the cool tile until he grunts your name, hot seed hitting the ceramic minutes later.

****

He adjusts his jacket as he makes his way over to your place. He didn't tell you a time and he hopes you understood why. His cock already hard and adjusted in his jeans as he enters your apartment building. You left the front door unlocked so he opens it, shrugging off his jacket and boots. Letting you know he's arrived and taking his time until he slowly makes his way to your bedroom.

In the bedroom, you are already soaked, naked and spread out on the bed. You had repositioned several times, trying to find the sexiest pose, but ended up on your back. The door is halfway closed so you perk up when it slowly opens. Wondering if Joel will be nude too, or if he will still be dressed.

Joel's cock twitches violently in his pants when he finds you spread out on your bed waiting for him. He stands in the doorway and your eyes meet his. "Good girl." He murmurs, walking over to the foot of the bed, still dressed minus his jacket and boots. Feet bare on the scratched wood floor of your apartment and the bulge in his pants very noticeable.

“Fuck, Imma need you to say like a thousand more times tonight.” You admit, pressing your thighs together before deliberately spreading your legs slightly. His eyes are dark and you would be afraid if it was anger instead of desire in their depths. Your eyes slide down to the front of his jeans and you smirk slightly, proud that you affect him as much as he does you.

"Spread your legs." He orders, voice rough with desire, and you obey. He groans at the sight of your dripping wet folds, curls framing your pretty pussy. He reaches down to squeeze himself through his pants, "beautiful." He murmurs, unable to believe you are letting him touch you. His hand finds your ankle after he kneels on the edge of your bed, caressing the soft skin and sliding along your leg. You whine when his hand brushes over your sex and continues along your stomach until he's squeezing your breast.

You moan softly, pushing your chest up into his hand. Your eyes are fixed on him, waiting to see what he will do. Your chest is already heaving, cunt clenching around nothing as he takes his time. Joel doesn’t just rush into sex he squeezes your breast again and then takes your nipple between his fingers and rolls it just hard enough to make you gasp out his name.

He's already obsessed, loving watching you react to his touch, and he groans when you whimper. "Look at you. So fuckin' needy." He murmurs, switching to pluck your other nipple with his fingers while he shifts his weight onto one elbow so he can take the peaked tip of the breast he abandoned into his mouth.

“Oh god.” You hadn’t expected Joel Miller to be a fucking tease. His mouth is almost playful, tongue flicking over your nipple. He chuckles but you don’t do more than run your fingers through his silver streaked hair.

He groans when you tug on his hair, his cock pressing painfully against the zipper of his pants and he squeezes your tit before he abandons it to slide his hand lower. His fingers brush your soaked folds and he cannot believe you are this wet for him. He groans as he slides his fingers until he finds your clit, rubbing circles while he bites and sucks on your nipple.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whine, pushing your hips down. “Touch me. Fuck, let me- let me touch you.” You beg, needing to see him, touch him. “I want you so much.” You don’t care how pathetic you sound, all you care about is him fucking you.

"So fuckin' desperate." He mocks you softly but his heart is pounding at that fact. He swallows harshly and leans in to kiss your neck before he pulls his hands from your body. You whine but sit up on your elbows to watch him as he starts to unbutton his shirt. He wants to feel every inch of you against him. Shirt shoved from his shoulders and tossed across your room, his hands find his belt, ripping it open and finally he pulls the zipper of his pants down to free his throbbing cock. You moan and he smirks as he shuffles off your bed to shove his pants down. Kicking them off as he kneels on your bed once again. "How do you want me?" He asks, wanting you to decide while his fingers slide up your leg and push into your leaking cunt.

“Fuck.” He’s not lean with the rawness of youth, he’s broad, seasoned. Filled out with years and experience. The scar on his side is the one that you had heard he got between stays in Jackson, when he was taking Ellie on her ill-fated trip. Moaning when he curls his fingers up, you clench down around him. “However I can have you.” You choke out. “I can’t get pregnant.” It’s a reminder of his ability to fill you, to not pull out unless he wants to. “But sometime tonight I want to be bent over and you fucking me from behind.”

Joel groans at your words, ravenous for all of you tonight. He wishes he could fuck you like he was thirty but he's not. He pulls his fingers from your pussy, shifting to kneel between your thighs, and he wraps his wet fingers around his cock. You whine and he shuffles closer, slapping your clit with the head of his cock. "You want me, baby girl?" He asks, voice rough with desire for you.

“Yes.” You whimper, body tightening at his tone, the needy edge to his rough words. He can mock you for being eager, but he is just as bad. You spread your legs wider, hooking them on his hips and reaching down to caress his thigh as he shuffles closer. “I want you, Joel.”

That's all he needs to hear. He positions the head of his cock at your entrance, pushing into you slowly because he's thick and you are so goddamn tight. He groans as your searing hot walls envelop him as he pushes deeper into your pussy. "Fuck." He pants shifting onto his elbows as he hovers over you.

“Oh my god.” You moan, reaching up to caress his shoulders and your hips roll slightly, meeting the angle of his own. “Fuck, you’re so big, so fucking big inside me.” He stretches you, fills up every space inside you until there is nothing that isn’t taken up by him. Lurching up, you press your lips to his, curling your hand around the back of his neck to drag him closer as your tongue slides into his mouth. Taking charge of the kiss for a moment as he groans and twitches inside you.

He lets you take control of the kiss, tongue sliding against yours in a sloppy way that displays the pent up desire that's been building for far too long. "Fuck." He pants when he pulls back, kissing your jaw as he starts to rock his hips, setting a slow and deep pace.

This isn’t making love, there’s not an emotional connection between the two of you, not yet. This is more physical, deeply satisfying as he scratches an itch that you’ve been desperate to satiate for a long time. Sure you probably could have fucked anyone single in Jackson, but this is the man you wanted. “Fuck baby, you’re gonna wreck me, aren’t you?” You ask breathlessly, laughing at the prospect.

He chuckles breathlessly at the prospect and he wants to wreck you. Wants to ruin you for everyone else. His cock pushes deep and he adjusts his knees to push into you from a different angle. “You’re too fuckin’ good for me.”

You moan softly and wrap your legs around his waist. “Didn’t think that when I was sucking you off this morning.” You tease softly, your hand caressing his back as he moves. “Fuck, I thought about how you looked, how you tasted, all fucking day.”

He rocks into you, shifting his weight to one arm so he can slide his hand along your form,  his hand cupping your breast. “Yeah? You liked having my cock in your mouth, baby?” He rasps into your neck, pressing kisses there until he nips at your pulse.

You whine softly. “Yes.” You pant out. “Loved it. You look so goddamn good, did you like it?” Every man likes a blow job, but you want to know if he focused while he was outside the wall, if it helped him.

He nods, “loved it. Fuck, I couldn’t stop thinking about you on your knees for me. Lookin’ at me like that.” He confesses, “I kept thinkin’ about you. I haven’t stopped. Not since I met ya.” He reveals and leans in to slide his tongue into your mouth.

You groan into his mouth, kissing him back and loving that you’ve managed to get under his skin. Your hips roll up to meet his thrusts and you feel like he’s hitting a little deeper every time. “Fuck.”

He needs you to come apart for him, to prove to you that he doesn’t just cum in his pants like a teenager. He shifts, grabbing your calf to lift it onto his shoulder, “that’s it, baby.” He pants when you cry out his name at the new angle.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” He feels like he’s in your guts from this angle. Deep and his hips snap forward a little harder every time a squeal slips past your lips. “Oh fuck.” You moan again, eyes rolling back and your blunt nails dig into the meat of his shoulder blades as you hang on.

He loves how your nails dig into his back and he pants, “need you cum for me, baby.” He demands, his hand squeezing your thigh as he continues to fuck you hard, needing to feel the way you clamp down on his cock.

His pace is hard, harder than someone half his age. He’s sure of his thrusts, grunting and groaning when you tighten around him. “Joel.” You pant softly. “I need - fuck!” You are so close to cumming. So close to that perfect orgasm that will completely rip you apart, “I-“ your head tilts back and your breath catches right before your entire body tightens, crying out when he pushes deep again and pushes you her the edge.

You stiffen beneath him then shake like you’re experiencing an earthquake. Your eyes squeezed shut as almost inhuman noises escapes your lips. You squeeze his cock hard enough to cut off circulation and soak him but he fucking loves it. “Goddamn baby.” He murmurs, “good girl. Good fucking girl.”

He could call you a good girl for the rest of your life and you will die a happy woman. Body shaking as you ride out the pleasure until you just go boneless under him. “Fuck.” You whimper, kissing along his jaw. “Fuck, you’re amazing, baby. I’ve never cum that hard before.”

His stomach twists with contentment, and his back aches from fucking you so hard. He rolls over, bringing you with him, and you quickly shuffle to kneel, his cock slipping from your pussy. You whine and reach down, gripping him to push him back into your fluttering cunt. “Ride me, girl. Show me what ya got.” He orders, his hands smacking your ass.

He might even look better underneath you. His hands are gripping your hips, encouraging you to move. “Fuck, you feel even bigger.” You praise breathlessly as you start to bounce on his cock. “Joel,” your hands brace on his chest and you swivel your hips slowly.

He watches you with rapture, his hands leaving your ass to slide up your body. His hands find your tits, squeezing them as you ride his cock. “That’s it. Fuck. You look so fucking gorgeous like this.” He rasps, unable to believe such a beautiful woman wants him right now. You’re riding his cock, moaning his name. It makes him dizzy with pleasure.

Bending down, you kiss him, hips still rolling and your walls cinching down around his cock every time you move. You can feel how hard he is, how deep he goes. If you press hard enough on your stomach, you can probably feel him throbbing inside you. “You’re so fucking perfect Miller.” You praise. “Better than my wildest dreams.”

He can’t believe you’re saying this. You are too good for him and yet here you are, praising him, acting like he’s the best man in Jackson, hell, this fucked up world. “You’re so damn good. Fuck, so fucking beautiful.” He praises you, sliding his hands along your spine until he’s squeezing your ass again, helping you rock your hips.

You want to cum again. Addicted to the way his cock presses inside you. You kiss along his neck and his lips again. “I’m going to cum again.” You whimper against his lips. “Fuck, baby. I’m addicted to your cock.”

He pants, loving how your voice has taken on this high pitched gasp with each rock of your hips. “Good girl. Cum for me. Wanna feel it again. Wanna feel you cum for me. Soak my cock. Be my good girl.” He orders, thrusting up into you after planting his feet.

You toss your head back, crying out when he takes over. Panting and squealing every time he rocks his hips up, fingers digging into your waist and holding you in place while he fucks you. “Gonna- gonna cum!” You cry out before your body locks up again. “Joooooooooooellllllllll.” Your scream is so loud, your voice cracks halfway through your wail of pleasure.

He wants the entire fucking town to hear you scream his name. He loves it. He fucking adores it. “Yes. Yes. Fuck!” He growls, rocking his hips up into your pussy, pushing as deep as he can with you squeezing him like a vice. Soaking him. Fuck, he loves it. “That’s it. Fuck. I’m gonna cum. Can I - fuck. Can I - inside?” He wants to make sure it’s okay before he fills you up .

“Yesss.” You moan, not even hesitating. “Fill me up, want to feel you drip out of me.” You might have a little bit of a cum kink but you’ve never been so eager to have a make cum inside you. Before you would have them pull out just in case, but you don’t want Joel to pull out.  “Oh fuck, cum for me baby.” You beg.

He doesn’t remember the last time he came inside a woman. Probably pre outbreak. Too terrified to knock them up but you’ve promised him it’s safe. He grunts, wrapping his arms around you as he thrusts up into you, faster and sloppier than before. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He pants, moaning your name as he thrusts up into you, stiffening beneath you as his cock twitches.

The heat fills you, eyes closed as you moan. You press your face into his neck as he pumps you full of his sticky, hot, seed. It feels so good and you are practically limp by the time he finishes. Apparently Joel Miller has a lot of cum. “That was so good.” You mumble breathlessly, kissing his racing pulse again and again as you calm down. “Oh God, I can’t believe we just did that.” You giggle, completely relaxed and euphoric.

He smiles, probably the only real smile he's expressed since arriving in Jackson. He slides his hand along your spine, letting himself relax into your bed, and he's reminded that he's alive. He isn't fighting to survive right now. He wants to live for the first time since he can remember. "We can do it again." He promises, "you just gotta give me a while. I ain't young."

“You’re gonna wear me out.” You tease, lifting your head and grinning at him before you lean in and press your lips to his softly. “This was perfect.” You murmur. “You want something to drink? Or just lay here for a few minutes?”

Joel closes his eyes, “just lay here for a bit. Been imaginin’ this far too many times to move right now. Just want to savour you. Lemme feel you, baby.” He says, cock softening inside you but he’s in no rush to move.

You hum softly, melting against him. You know Joel can take your weight, he’s strong, so you don’t move off of him. Laying your head back down and your fingers stroking the freckled skin on his shoulder. “Bet you used to work shirtless before Outbreak.” You muse softly. “Building houses and breaking hearts of the women you put a show on for.”

He smirks, loving how you even think about that. “I was thirty-six. Didn’t need to work out when I had my job. I was happy to be shirtless. Now? I’ll keep it on.” He confesses his insecurity. “Had some horny housewives but me and Tommy wanted our business to succeed. A quick fuck and an angry husband wasn’t worth it.”

“Shit.” You huff and turn your head to kiss his chest gently. “You are still sexy, Joel.” You promise. “I’m not the only one that thought you were attractive when you showed up. I’m just the one who decided to try to jump in your bed.”

Joel smiles, kissing your hair, "I'm glad you didn't give up on me. I don't - I don't think I deserve anything good after all the shit I've done. I'm not a good man but you - you seem to see something in me and I ain't gonna take that for granted so whenever you want me in your bed, in your life...I am here."

You chuckle softly. “Oh, you shouldn’t have said that, Miller.” You warn playfully. “You won’t remember what your bed feels like if I have you in my bed whenever I want.”

****

Joel sighs as you sit at his kitchen table, your half eaten food in front of you as you tap your fingers. Things were going great. Better than great. You saw each other every day. Attended town events together. Everyone knew you were seeing each other but you are currently sitting at his table with a pissed off expression on your face. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” He asks, needing to hear you say it.

“It’s not gonna change anything.” You admit, poking at your food and not meeting his eyes. Things have been good, but it seems like you’ve been in some kind of holding pattern. Maria had come to you today and asked about vacating your apartment. You spent a lot of time at Joel’s, enough that the council noticed and if you weren’t sleeping in your bed, they could give it to one of the numerous refugees that continue to come into Jackson.

Joel sighs, knowing that arguing won't make it any better but he needs you to understand his reasoning. "I can't - it's, uh, I haven't lived with a woman like that - like an actual relationship - for over twenty years. I don't want to ruin what we have because I leave the toilet seat up or I breathe the wrong way. What we have can quickly go to shit and I...I don't wanna lose you." He admits softly, tracing the lines in the wooden table so he doesn't look at you. He had Tess, but you want more, you want a connection. Something that he had resisted with Tess, giving her all of him. Something that he doesn’t think he could do with you. 

“Maria asked me if there was any way I could let another family have my apartment.” You kind of feel like she’s pressing the issue to make Joel make a decision. “But I’m just going to tell her that’s not possible.” You stand up and pick up your plate to clean up.

Joel sighs, standing up to stand behind you. His arms caging you in against the sink and he leans in to softly kiss the nape of your neck. "I want you in my bed every night, I want to wake up holding you. Knowing you're mine. I hate you leavin'." He confesses, "I want you here...just promise me you'll talk to me if you aren't happy. I can't lose you too."

“I don’t want to push you.” You promise, feeling guilty for being upset at him. You twist around to face him and wrap your arms around his neck. “I’m happiest when I’m with you, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to. I just-“ you swallow. “We don’t know when the fuck our last day will be and I’d rather spend the rest of them loving you than anything else.”

Joel rubs circles on your hips, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours. “I know baby, I know. I- I want you here. I do. Will you- can you move in with me?” He asks, needing you to be by his side.

“Are you sure?” You ask seriously. “I can tell Maria to fuck off.” You bite your lip. “I swear this is her telling you to get your ass in gear. Either build faster or make a move with me. I’m not entirely sure which.”

Joel cups your cheek, “I’m sure. I want you here.” He promises, “let’s go get your things today.” He knows you’ll leave the furniture in the apartment so you need your clothes and personal items.

You nod, his hand still cupping your cheek. “If you get annoyed with me, you let me know.” You murmur. “I can spend extra time in the stables.”

He chuckles, nudging his nose against yours, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “As long as you come home to ride me.” He smirks, his hand sliding down your form until he’s squeezing your breast. “Now, that I can do.” You promise breathlessly and Joel smirks, “better get started then.” He takes your hand, guiding you to his bedroom…soon to become your bedroom too.

****

“Dina’s probably a better patrol partner.” You tease Joel, winking over at the younger girl. “She’s awake.” You know Joel would have liked to go on patrol with Ellie, but he had told them to let her sleep and told Dina to come with you and him. Dina snorts and shrugs. “That’s a positive.” She agrees. You clear your throat as you guide your horse along. “Before we go up to the mines, let’s swing through the company buildings.” You suggest. “There’s some Vaseline in one of the shops. Need some for the horses.”

Joel adjusts his grip on the reins, nodding in agreement. It’s early, the air heavy with a storm, and Joel exhales in a cloud of air that appears in the frigid weather. “Let’s go now. We might need to head back. Storms comin’ in.” Joel observes the heavy clouds gathering.

It’s been four years since you moved in with Joel and Ellie. Four years of falling deeper in love with him and creating a beautiful family out of those that remain. Joel’s nephew is precious and you love spending time with him, easing the ache of not having a child of your own. It’s quiet evenings reading while Joel whittles at the desk in the bedroom. Soft, slow love making when both of you are sore or just need a softer touch of reassurance. It’s been healing for both of you and you trust Joel explicitly, that’s why keeping whatever illness has been nagging you from him has you so uneasy. He would worry, incessantly so, and you don’t want him to do that when it’s probably just a lingering bout of flu that had gone through Jackson a few weeks ago. “Then let’s make this quick.”

Joel watches you as you ride a little ahead with Dina. He’s worried about you. You’ve been trying to hide it but he’s heard you throwing you in the early hours, the exhaustion that seems to seep into your bones when you think no one is looking. He’s worried about you and he decides that later, he will take you to the doctor. He glances around the town, making sure there’s no threats until he nods at you and Dina. “Don’t be long.” He orders, deciding to stay outside to keep watch.

“Call out.” You remind the younger girl, your gun in your hand as you make your way to the pharmacy. You know the will be occupied by the items left behind, the little store hasn’t been ravaged completely, which is why you wanted to stop. It’s a stupid idea, completely stupid, but you need to know. Making your way inside, you stop inside the door, listening for the sounds of infected. Just because the little mine town had been cleared doesn’t mean some might not have wandered in. After a moment you relax, looking around with your flashlight as Dina rushes towards some hair bands than are still hanging up. “We don’t need to be long.” You remind her.

Joel glances around, keeping watch, and he’s reminded of patrols he took with Ellie not long after returning to Jackson. The memories of teaching her to play guitar, helping her work on her aim, even helping her decorate her room. He’s happy you’re in the house, a buffer to help him communicate with a moody teenager who now hates his guts. He never got to that stage with Sarah. She didn’t get to experience the “I hate my dad” stage. Swallowing harshly, he decides to talk to you about how he can reconnect with Ellie.

You stare at the boxes for a moment, wondering what the hell you are doing before you grab several of them. “Fuck it.” You hiss, ripping one open right there in the middle of the store. “Gotta know. What’s the worst that can happen? It’s negative?”

Joel looks up as Dina comes back outside, her backpack full of stuff, and he says your name. Dina looks back at the store. “She said she had to pee.” Dina shrugs and Joel nods, still worried about you but he tries to not hover too much.

You shove them in your pocket, knowing that it will take longer for them to give you an answer than Joel will let you stay here without coming to check on you. You grab the Vaseline and the antibiotic creams that you had actually come for and head back outside. “Sorry.” You chuckle. “Coffee.”

Joel watches you as you get back on your horse and he frowns, noticing the way you frown. You look nauseous. Snow starts to fall and Joel frowns, looking up at the sky. “Let’s head out. We haven’t got a lot of time.”

“Okay.” You are nervous, even though you know that the test will come back negative. Even if you show all the signs for the first time ever, you can’t possibly be pregnant. “It’s getting colder.”

Joel leads the way, worried about you and Dina, and his radio crackles, telling everyone to come back to Jackson or take shelter. “Let’s go.” Joel orders over his shoulder, guiding you and Dina through the town until you come across the empty factory. “Let’s get in here until the storm passes.” He orders, pointing at the doors.

You lead the horses inside and shiver slightly. “Jesus. It’s really starting to come down out there.” You whisper, getting worried about what will happen. “Maybe we should go back to one of the smaller buildings.” You could find a stove and build a fire because it’s gonna get worse before it gets better.

Joel nods, “lemme go check. Stay here.” He orders, pulling his gun from his holster and he nods at Dina who stays on her horse in case something happens. Joel makes his way through the factory to the outside and that’s when he hears the infected. His heart pounds at the sound just as he sees a girl under a clicker. He doesn’t think as he pulls the trigger and he grabs the girl. “Are you bit?” He demands, dragging her through the yard until he’s storming into the factory. “We gotta go!” He shouts, the girl running behind him.

You don’t know what the fuck is happening, one second everything is quiet and the next there is a gunshot and Joel is running back into the building with a strange girl. “Joel?” The sound of infected gets louder and your blood chills, the test in your hand shoved back into your pocket. “Joel!”

“We gotta go!” He orders, heart pounding at the thought of you and Dina being in danger. “You okay, kid?” He asks the young girl who nods and Joel grabs her hand and pushes her up onto the horse. Within moments, the doors burst open and Joel shouts for you to ride.

“Shit!” There’s a fucking horde on your heels, the horses racing as fast as they can, but you aren’t gaining much ground between you and the group of infected that what to tear you apart. “We have to hurry!” You shout, looking over your shoulder at the wave of danger that is creeping closer.

Joel stops for a moment, glancing over his shoulder, and he sees the smoke coming from Jackson. “We gotta go back.” He shouts, ice forming on his facial hair. “There’s no time.” The girl declares, “there’s a lodge. My friends are there.” Joel nods, “are they armed?” He asks and she nods. “Good. We will head there, get prepared, and head to Jackson to help.” He orders, riding up the mountain in the blizzard in the direction the girl points.

You don’t like this. Don’t trust it, although you don’t have much of a choice. Why were these people up on the mountain in the lodge? You don’t have time to question it, the temperature is well below zero and you’re in danger of hypothermia and frostbite if you stay out here.

You soon find the lodge and Dina is shaking uncontrollably as you enter the property. The wind chill is gone once the door is shut and Joel shrugs off his coat and rushes over to you. “Are you okay?” He asks, rubbing your arms after your coat is off.

“J-just c-cold.” You promise, teeth chattering and you barely listen as the girl starts introducing herself. “We- we have to get home.” You tell Joel, not paying her any attention. “The town…” through the window you can see the fires burning and you can’t imagine what is happening down there.

Joel squeezes your shoulders, turning to look at the town. He grips the walkie talkie in his hand. “Jackson. Come in. Jackson.” He growls into the radio and that’s when one of the women grabs Dina and a man grabs you. He immediately reaches for his gun but guns are pressed to your foreheads.

“Joel.” You freeze, breathing shallow. “Shut up!” The man who is holding you hisses, shaking you slightly and you see Joel flinch as he thinks about attacking him. “We don’t have anything.” You promise him. “Just take whatever you want.”

Joel places his gun on the floor, raising his hands, and his heart is pounding. The girl he rescued asks him what they look like and Joel’s eyes flick from you to Dina and back to the girl. “Military.” He says, brow furrowing, “fireflies.”

The medic puts Dina to sleep and approaches you with a needle. “No.” You struggle against the man’s grip, the barrel of the gun pressing into your temple. “You can’t give me that, you can’t give me that!” You shout, terrified that whatever they might give you could hurt the baby. The girl, Abby, snorts. “Scared of needles?” She huffs. “Nooooo!” You squirm away from the needle again. “I’m pregnant!”

Joel feels like he’s been punched in the gut. His eyes widen and they meet yours, seeing the fear in your eyes. There’s nothing he can do. They outnumber him and he doesn’t have his gun. “Leave her alone!” He shouts, his voice desperate as he sees you struggle and he knows you’re telling the truth.

“You’re lying.” Abby spits, but you shake your head. “My jacket pocket.” You stammer. “I took the tests this morning. Please- we didn’t do anything to you. Let us go.”

Abby reaches into your pocket, taking out the tests and Joel feels sick. His eyes flick around the room, desperate to find a way out of this situation. To keep you and Dina safe. He wants to squeeze his eyes shut and pretend this is all a nightmare. Abby eyes the tests and the medic of the group looks over her shoulder. “Two lines. She’s pregnant.” Joel’s nostrils flare and tears sting in his eyes when your terrified eyes meet his. “It’s okay, baby.” He tries to reassure you, “it’s okay.”

It’s not hard to figure out who’s baby you are carrying and there’s a grim smile of satisfaction on the girl’s face as she looks from you to him. “He’s a little old to be a daddy.” She chuckles dryly, waving the test around. “But he’s handsome, so good for you.”

Joel’s hands shake a little but he steels himself, jaw clenched as he watches Abby pick up a shotgun. For a moment, he’s worried she’s going to spin around and shoot you but within a blink of an eye, he’s screaming as he lays on the floor. His knee is blown out, and he chokes at the agony that washes over him.

“Joel!” You twist out of the man’s grip and rush over to Joel. “Fuck.” You hiss, seeing how bad the injury is although he’s clamped his lips together to keep from making too much noise. “It’s okay, baby.” Your fingers tremble as you rip at your belt to take it off and use it as a tourniquet. “It’s okay.”

Joel knows he’s going to be killed. The look on the girl’s face. He knows and the worst part is he’s not scared of death but he’s terrified of leaving you alone. Of leaving you pregnant with his child. He wants to fight but that would only get you and Dina killed alongside him. “I love you.” He murmurs, reaching up with a shaking hand to caress your cheek. “Okay. That’s enough.” Abby declares and the man grabs you again, dragging you away, and you start to sob. “Please. Please just let us go. We haven’t done anything.” You beg but Abby chuckles as she kneels down next to your lover. “You haven’t.” She says as she looks at you, “but your boyfriend here has.” She begins her speech about her father and how she was taught to fight with morals. Joel doesn’t listen, his eyes fixed on you as you cry for him.

“Oh, just shut the fuck up and do it already.” Joel snaps, tired of hearing her bitch about how unfair it was that he killed her father. He doesn’t want you to watch, but this bitch apparently wants you to suffer. You choke out a sob when Abby picks up the golf club and comes towards him. “Please, don’t.” You beg softly.

Joel knows she’s going to beat him to death and he hates that this will be your last memory of him. “Close your eyes.” He orders, “close your eyes!” He shouts when you continue to stare and within seconds you squeeze your eyes shut. Abby smirks as she swings the club, hitting him in the head, and he tries to smother his scream but the pain is too intense. The club comes down over and over again on his body until he’s laying in a pool of his own blood. His mind is cloudy with pain but he prays you’ve kept your eyes shut.

You don’t keep your eyes closed. Weeping as you watch Joel absorb hit after hit, the golf club snapping in two and Abby switching to punching Joel in the face. The man still has you tight in his grip, and you resent it, unable to help him. “Please.” You whimper through the tears. “He- he’s not that man anymore.” You try to reason with her. “He’s a good man. He saved people, he has saved so many lives. He saved your life.”

Joel can hear you pleading for him, for her to stop, but it sounds like he’s underwater. His body is numb, and he can feel himself drifting, losing the life in his body. When he hears a scream, his heart stops. Ellie. She’s here.

“Stop!” Ellie is wrestled to the ground and you struggle when you see her, trying to break loose again, but he cocks the hammer back on his gun. “I don’t want to kill you.” He hisses quietly, making you sob. “Please stop.” You beg Abby again. “You- you made your point.”

Abby’s chest heaves and the one holding the gun says, “end it. End it now.” Ellie is screaming at Joel to get up. He hears her begging and he wants to stand, wants to fight now that ve knows you’re carrying his child but all he can do is twitch his fingers. Abby picks up the broken club, walking towards Joel. “No. No. No. Nooooo.” You wail and Ellie screams just as Abby stabs the stick into his neck.

Your visions blurs, narrowing until everything goes dark and you crumple in the arms of the guy who had been holding you. “Gonna kill her too.” Abby smirks as she walks towards where he is crouched over you, putting you down on the floor. “No.” He shakes his head. “That’s not what we signed up for.”

“She’s pregnant.” One of the women protests and Ellie is shaking, “I’m going to fucking kill you.” She promises with a yell and Abby doesn’t care. “Fine. She lives.” Abby decides as the group gathers their things, leaving the lodge.

You don’t come up until Jesse is kneeling down beside you, checking you. Gasping as you open your eyes and the first thing you see is Joel and Ellie. The young girl laying on top of him, sobbing hysterically and you know that he’s gone. You can’t stand, your entire body aching with sorrow, but you crawl over to them, covering her and him with your own body as you cry. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Ellie.” You know they have been estranged, you’ve lived through the tense silence and the battle of wills. Now, there is no hope for reconciliation.

Ellie is numb as Jesse gets her and Dina up on a horse. He wraps Joel’s body up to take it back to Jackson and tears stream endlessly down your cheeks. No one says a word as you ride back to Jackson. How the tables have turned…Joel is now cargo.

****

Your eyes are red rimmed and burning, but not from the fires that still burn in Jackson. The orange glow flickers through the windows and gives an unnatural light to the darkness. The silence in the room is filled with sorrow, you’re the only one here that isn’t stretched out on a table, covered with a sheet. “I’m so sorry, baby.” You whisper, looking down into the bucket to grab the rag and squeeze the excess water. You had insisted that you be the one to do this. Ellie can’t. She’s in the hospital, the parting gift of a kick to the stomach from the group that had killed Joel had punctured a lung. Sedated, and quite frankly, not up to doing this task. You reach for his hand and wipe some of the blood off it gently, as if you are afraid to hurt him. “I didn’t know I could get pregnant.” You promise him. “I didn’t lie, baby, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Tommy walks into the makeshift morgue, finding you with Joel. Where you've been since returning to Jackson. "Sweetheart, you need to sleep." He says softly, "you need to eat something. Not just for you, but for the baby. You know he'd be reprimandin' you for not takin' care of yourself."

Your lips stretch slightly as you look up at him for a moment. Reaching up to touch his hand as it rests on your shoulder. Tommy is a good man, one that you have spent a lot of time with over the past four years since moving in with Joel. “He knew.” You tell him, aware that Jesse has told Tommy and Maria about your condition when you got back to Jackson. “I told him- before he-“ you pause, blinking back new tears. “Hopefully he didn’t hate me for it.”

Tommy shakes his head, “he never would’ve hated you. He loved you. Never thought I’d see him be in love again but you made him so happy. If anything, if I know my brother, he hated leavin’ you pregnant without him.” Tommy sighs, “but you have us. Me and Maria and - and Ellie. She had to be sedated again but she will wake up soon.”

Your chin wobbles slightly. “He’s with Sarah now.” You murmur, standing as you put the rag down on the table beside Joel’s body. “I’ll give you a minute with him.” You know that Tommy’s bond with Joel ran deep and he will miss his older brother. You stop for a moment. “I hate them.” You tell him quietly. “I want them all to die. Every single one of them. As painfully as possible.”

Tommy nods, knowing how you feel, and he wants that too but he has to think about everyone in Jackson and not just his feelings and desire for revenge. “Go get something to eat.” He reminds you, squeezing your hand, and you nod, making your way out of the room with tears in your eyes.

****

You aren’t dumb, you know Ellie is leaving tonight. Dina just left and you stroke your growing stomach as you reach for the box that you have kept. There’s an air of discontent in town, a grumbling under the normally positive sounds of rebuilding. Even though the council had voted, more people than you imagined had spoken to you about their sorrow for Joel’s passing. You knew that it had been a long shot, but you had hoped that they would feel your need for vengeance. Walking out to the garage, you tap on the door quietly. “Ellie, it’s me. Open the door.”

Ellie's eyes widen but she knows that she can't hide from you. She sighs, opening the door to the garage, "you can't stop me and I don't need a lecture." She spits out before you can say a word but she watches your eyes trail over the guns and ammo spread out over the floor.

You whistle, taking it all in before you look at her again. Her jaw is set, stubborn. So much more like Joel than she would probably ever admit. “You’re missing something.” You tell her, making her immediately frown and look around. “What? What am I missing?” She demands, making you smile as you hold out the box in your hand. “This.” You tell her. “You kill that bitch with this.”

Ellie opens the box, eyes widening at the sight of Joel's gun. She swallows, lifting her gaze to yours, and she nods. "I'm gonna kill her. For us." She promises, her hand softly landing on your bump. "Dina is coming with me." She confesses and you smile, having seen what neither of them have realized yet a long time ago. "Good. You will come back...you gotta meet your sibling." You say, placing your hand over hers. She nods, "I'll be back. Gotta see if the baby looks like you or if they are unlucky, Joel." She teases, offering you a soft smile.

“I’m going to stay here.” You promise her. “This house will always be your home. You will always have space here.” You haven’t been able to get rid of anything of Joel’s, even his woodworking projects look like he will walk in at any moment and pick them back up. It’s been three months since that horrible day and you still dream about it. You don’t know if you will ever not; but you’ve taken care of yourself. For Joel and the baby. Because he wouldn’t want you to just curl up and waste away. Even Gail had offered her services to you, none of usual bitter sarcasm in her words. “Always.” 

Ellie smiles at you and sets the gun down on her desk before she wraps her arms around you, gentle to be mindful of your bump. "He really loved you, ya know?" She murmurs, "so do I. You're like the mom I never had." She confesses, "I'll be back. I am gonna kill that bitch and those assholes and I'll be back." She promises softly.

You hug her and press a kiss to the top of her head. “He loved you too.” Ellie had finally told you why her and Joel had been estranged at the end. You had understood both positions and why they had been at odds. “With every fiber of his being.” You pull back and look at her. “He would be proud of you.”

Ellie nods and steps back when you say, "be safe, El." You order and she snorts, "always am." You playfully roll your eyes and rub your bump. "I'll see you when you return." You promise and Ellie nods, watching you go. She's leaving at three and you'll be asleep by then but she will come back and tell you she got revenge for all of you.

**** 

“Oh, you are hungry, aren’t you?“ You coo, looking down at the baby that is greedily gulping down milk at your breast. “That’s it, baby boy, you eat.” Your son, named after your lover, was born just a month ago. Healthy and perfect, you wish that Joel was here to see him. “You want to see your daddy?”

You carry the baby over to the only photo you have of Joel. A Polaroid he took with Ellie, and you pick the frame up to show your son. “There’s your daddy. He’s watching over you, you know? From heaven. He never thought he’d end up there but I just know he is. He was a good man who did bad things because he had. He’s up there now, watching over us.” You murmur and the baby coos after pulling away from your nipple, eyes unfocused as you hold the frame towards his face. “I’ll see him again one day. When I’m older and you can survive in this world without me. You’ll be a fighter, just like your daddy. Another Joel Miller for the world to see.” You coo and the baby closes his eyes as he falls asleep in your arms. You set the frame down and cradle him, cooing softly, unaware that Joel is watching you, Sarah standing beside him, while they oversee the ones they left behind.

[fernbruises]

slow replies, thinking about bbf!ellie catching you half naked on the landing after your shower.

she just spawns, having left your brother on the couch bitching to the fucking dust mites about his third straight loss against her on mortal kombat (his suggestion, by the way—always his suggestion! fully aware of ellie’s impeccable track record). she’d just wanted to use the bathroom… well, that’s the excuse she’d used, anyway.

all casual, so unbothered. like… she’d been nonchalant enough in asking your brother if you were home, tossing it out with a fake little shrug in her voice but secretly hopeful as ever, and he’d just replied with a very disinterested “yeah, somewhere”, because he genuinely did not give a fuck. but she knew what she was doing—it had only been halfway through their third rematch when she’d heard the faint sound of the shower running, and so the second that water switched off? infiltration time!!! and she was up, off of that couch and mounting the stairs like it was a covert mission, timing the whole thing perfectly, reaching the landing at the precise moment you were crossing it post-shower; hair still wet, skin speckled with water droplets, in nothing but a towel… she couldn’t have planned it better if she’d tried, honestly.

her eyes visibly light up when she sees you, when they meet yours, and she vows to you that she didn’t know you were showering, but she’s also straight up laughing??? like, she’s the world’s worst liar ever… love that for her! and she’s so unashamedly ecstatic at this “coincidental” turn of events that it just entirely cancels out whatever terrible little facade she’s attempting. and??? the way her eyes flick up and down, my goddd, like she knows she shouldn’t be looking but she’s absolutely shameless in just out-and-out staring. i’m talking zeeero shame, that little lesbian has no moral compass whatsoever. and you just roll your eyes, pretending to be so done with her, as if you aren’t secretly thrilled that she’s here—as if you aren’t thiiiiis close to pulling open your towel just to see what she’d do. and then you’re all like, “skipping out on quality guy time just to catch me half naked?”

and her eyes are just all over your body now— especially your collarbone, the slope of your neck, and that tiny freckle decorating the swell of your breast that she knows will keep her up tonight, because seriously, how has she never seen that before? but then she locks in again, all smug and shruggy, “just got bored of kicking your brother’s ass. figured i’d come look at yours, instead.” (!!!) and you just pull a face, but she catches you stand a little straighter and she swears you’re pulling your towel tighter??…she has never wanted to be a towel so bad in her entire life. there’s a beat, and she shoots you that look again— the same one she gave you last summer when the two of you had almost kissed in the cupboard underneath your stairs under the guise of a ‘truth or dare’… the one where nobody dared you.

“i know he’s a little slow,” you tip your chin toward the floorboards, voice low, hoping to god it doesn’t waver under ellie’s stare. “…but, he’ll start catching on if you keep making excuses to come find me.” and thennn you dare to question her bro code, and ellie runs her tongue over her teeth, leaning her shoulder into the wall. you’re talking about bro code? while looking like that? honestly, she’s battling her inner demons so hard—fighting for her life, seconds away from saying something so insanely foul she knows it would haunt her for eternity. but tbh, she would to drop to her knees for you—quite literally drop. to. her. knees. let you squirm against the wall, against her mouth!!! she’s desperate to watch you try to muffle your moans with your hand.

buuut, she’s a little shit. and she can be stubborn. so, she leaves it… eventually, but not before drinking you in one more time, letting her eyes linger over your upper thighs, slow and deliberate. this is an insanely dangerous game… one she is so close to losing.

“put some clothes on,” she mumbles and pivots on her feet, hiding her grin. “…or i’ll have to keep finding reasons to come see you.”

[bruhstories]

guilt

summary: you're looking for an end to your misery and guilt, but find healing instead. pairing: dante sparda x succubus!reader | game-oriented warnings: reader has a death wish and suffers from meltdowns, unprotected p in v, fighting sex?? swearing, descriptions of reader's demonic form, afab!reader, fighting for dominance, slightly sub!reader, some aftercare w/c: 5.1k

a/n: aight, here it is! i hope y'all don't mind a bit of build up lol

You were created with one purpose to fulfil — weaken humanity.

And you did. For centuries, you crept into the dreams of soldiers, doctors, priests, kings, disturbing their peace with your beauty, syphoning their life force with your body. You ruined marriages, impaired armies, even, all in the name of the King of the Underworld. But not without guilt.

See, when Mundus selected you for his demonic crusade, he overlooked one particular flaw that you managed to hide quite well — compassion. Not that you were the first demon to give a shit about humans, but you were one of the few who experienced shame so strong that you considered death to be a form of penance.

Only, death wouldn't have brought humanity any benefit. So, you ran away, slipped through a gate between the worlds and hid away for decades, until you were sure no demon was looking for you anymore. Inspired by Sparda's selflessness, you picked up odd jobs, helping the humans you once actively tried to destroy. You were a village teacher who disappeared, a military nurse who died on the battlefield, a firefighter who burned, a police officer who got shot — even if a body was never found — all while battling your own demons.

When you were born, you were born with a weakness, an insatiable, aching hunger for sex, an urge you needed to suppress and control. And it consumed you, like lava flowing through your veins that burned holes through your skin. Some days were easier. Others weren't, because when it rained, it poured, and you locked yourself inside of your bathroom, submerged in ice cold water just to stop the impulses from taking over. Your body, your real, demonic body, decorated with blood red scales, and a serpentine tail to match, with horns and slitted pupils, were harder to control when the urges hit, and you felt bad lying to your boss when you called in sick.

Because of your abstinence, the carnal cravings became frequent, more violent than ever before, and you knew the only way to go back to normal was to give in to them every once in a while, but you couldn't. You couldn't break the humans that took you in when you needed them the most. There were only two options left — to die, or to fuck.

You met with Enzo at the Bull's Eye Bar, hood over your head to hide the horns, gloves to hide the talons. You didn't take your sunglasses off, not wanting to scare the one man that knew the truth about you. He sat down next to you, but you quickly moved away, leaving one barstool between the two of you. The last thing you wanted was to rampage through the bar and kill him.

"I'm not afraid of you, kid. It's just a bad day." He tried to comfort you, but you shook your head.

"I think my time's up, Enzo." Your voice was meek and raspy.

"Don't be dramatic! Buy me a drink and let's talk about it."

You smiled at his optimism (and opportunism), accidentally flashing your fangs, and while you could tell Enzo was taken aback by them, he didn't leave. So, you bought him a drink and talked about it.

"I don't think I can take it anymore. Just being here makes me want to... jump your bones." You cringed at your own words.

"Who would've thought I still got it at my age?"

"It's not funny. You know that would kill you."

"I know." Enzo sighed. "Listen, I know a guy-"

"No. Absolutely not." You shook your head and sat up ready to leave.

"Sit down, girl. I'm not finished." He grabbed the glass full of ice-cold water that you ordered and splashed you with it.

"Why on Earth did you do that?" You froze, shocked by Enzo's behaviour.

"To cool you off. Did it work?"

"I- well- yeah, actually." You felt your body temperature go down.

"Good, now listen."

It was a stupid idea, but it was an idea nonetheless, better than the one you had, anyway. The red neon sign in front of you almost blinded your eyes, particularly the silhouette of the girl, but you walked closer to the building and knocked on the door. When there was no answer, you decided to push open the door, letting yourself in. Your heels clicked on the wooden floor as you wearily approached the front desk, with nothing but a rotary phone and the photo of a beautiful woman on it.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" Your voice echoed in the building, and you didn't dare to stray away from the desk.

"Shop's... closed."

Turning on your heels, you looked to your left to see a man with wet white hair sticking to his cheekbones, wearing nothing but a pair of leather trousers, beads of water dripping down his bare chest. God, he was stunning, and it did little to help your condition.

"I'm sorry, but I really need your help." You could barely breathe. "Enzo sent me."

"Still, shop's closed." He shrugged and walked past you towards the stairs. Underneath the landing was a white fridge, and the man opened it and grabbed himself a beer.

"Please, you're a devil hunter. Dante, right?"

"That I am."

"Good, because I need you to hunt one for me. Please." You begged him again, and after a few sips from his drink and careful consideration, he sat in his chair, feet propped on the antique desk.

"Alright, I'll bite. What am I hunting?"

You sighed, pulling down your hood and removing your sunglasses while your heart beats quickened.

"Me."

He paused drinking, blue eyes staring at you, and even though he was trying to hide it, you could tell he'd never seen the type of demon you were before. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you unbuttoned your trench coat, letting it fall down and pool at your feet, then took off the gloves. With each article of clothing you peeled off, more of your demonic nature was left exposed, but you had enough humanity in you to not strip all of your clothes. You wanted to die with dignity.

"Please be quick." Squeezing your eyes shut, you felt hot tears roll down your cheeks. You didn't want to die, not really, but you would be doing humans a favour if you did.

"Save your tears. Devils don't cry."

Dante was harsh with his words, but he was right — you didn't deserve that, you weren't human. But then, why were you afraid? Why did you feel centuries of guilt haunting you in your last moments? Why could you see the face of every man and woman you tormented in their sleep whenever you closed your eyes? Was that not human enough?

"I'm sorry, I can't help it." You said, eyes still shut and your fingers tugging at the hem of your dress.

"What kind of demon are you?" He asked, and you sighed.

"What difference does it make? You kill all kinds of demons, don't you?"

"Just curious." Dante nonchalantly said.

You opened your eyes, slitted pupils following him through the room. Was he stalling? Was he even the man Enzo recommended? You were hoping for a quick, clean death, not an interrogation.

"I'm the worst kind." You said, praying it would irk him, make Dante want to kill you faster. "The cowardly kind. The kind that shows up in your dreams and torments you, sucks the life out of you for sustenance, that makes men lose their minds. Not blood and gore, but pleasure and pain. And I am begging you to end my life."

"Why?"

"Why does it fucking matter?" Your voice lost its sweetness, now dark and low. "What matters is I hurt people, lots of people." You dropped down on your knees, lifting your dress inch by inch. "And I wanted to be like him, like Sparda, wanted to be good!" Your sharp talons clawed at the skin on your cheeks, leaving burning marks under them. "But I can't fight it anymore, it's eating me alive! Please, Dante, please do something!"

You were hysterical at that point, sobbing, screaming in pain, dripping with sweat. Dante found your eyes — full of both lust and grief — and your body shook spasmodically, like you were possessed by yourself.  Your hips rolled, thighs squeezed together while you tore the collar of your dress, wriggling, writhing in pain. So much pain. That was your penance.

He was genuinely shocked by the conflict within you, the battle you fought for God knows how long, and he could tell you regretted it. In fact, Dante pitied you.

"Kill me, kill me-" You choked on your words, throwing yourself at his feet. "Please, please, please-"

"I'm not gonna kill you." Dante stepped back, then crouched next to you, one hand placed on your shoulder.

You flinched and hissed at the man, his touch sending a wave of heat through your body, but you propped yourself on your elbows and pushed yourself back, as far away from him as possible, crawling into a corner. There was very little sanity left in your brain, and you eyed the door — you had to run again, or else you could have hurt him. Leaping towards the door, you found yourself caught by his arms, and he overpowered you with ease, holding you while you tried to fight him.

"Let me go!" Your fists slammed against his bare chest. "Please, I need to go, need to feed, need to fuck-"

Agony. You were in agony. Dante swept you off your feet, knocking the wind out of you as he threw you on his shoulder to carry you. You tried to put up a fight, tried to wrestle out of his grasp, but he was much, much stronger. Almost like he wasn't human at all. Dante practically dragged you to the bathroom, forcing you into the bathtub, despite your protests. But he was doing you a favour, really.

The cold water snapped you back to reality, even if it was momentary, and your convulsing body relaxed. Your breathing and heart beats slowed down, and you sighed, watching the tub fill with water. Dante opened the window, and the cool late-night breeze tickled your skin.

"How did you know about the temperature?" You whispered, too ashamed to even look at him.

"Hell's cold. Thought you might be homesick." Dante leaned against the edge of the bathtub and you snorted at his remark. "You got a name?"

"Y/N."

"Your real name." He folded his arms across his chest.

"I'm trying to forget it. Trying to die, too, but you're making it harder." You scoffed.

"Oh, yeah, not happening." Dante turned the tap off. "Enzo knows about you." It wasn't a question at all.

"Yeah, he believed I could change. So did I, but I guess I'm a demon through and through. Any reason why you didn't shoot me on the spot?"

"Eeeh." He shrugged. "Guess I saw potential in you. You're pretty weak, though."

"Gee, thanks, Dante." Your finger tapped on the surface of the water, creating small ripples.

"No, that's a good thing. It means I don't need to tie you up while I figure out a solution." He rubbed his chin, and your eyes followed his hand, stopping on his white stubble. Shit, he was a little too handsome for his own good.

"Not to be rude, but are you out of your mind? There is no solution, only death."

"But you don't want to die."

You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Of course you didn't. But what choice did you have?

"How long until your next... meltdown?"

"I don't know, a week? Two? They're becoming more frequent and less... bearable." You shivered, and Dante stepped away to bring you a towel.

"Anything else I need to know?" He helped you stand up in the tub.

"This is awkward, and contradictory, but feeding helps me regain control."

"Feeding?" He rose a brow.

"You know what I mean."

"I really don't."

"You do, and I don't wanna say it." You snatched the towel from him and dabbed it on your skin.

"The first step is acceptance. Don't be a prude, it doesn't suit you." Dante closed the window while you stepped out of the bathtub, water dripping down the tiled floor.

"What, are you a psychiatrist? Fine, it's sex! I need to have sex!" You said that a bit too loudly. "There, happy?"

"Well, it definitely makes it easier." He closed the gap between the two of you, backing you up into the bathroom corner.

"You're crazy. It'll kill you."

He laughed. Dante full on laughed in your face while you stared at him, dumbfounded.

"Believe me, it'll take more than that to kill me, princess. But, by all means, if you have a better idea, spit it out."

"I can't, I'm not ready." You shook your head.

"Bold of you to say that. You know, considering you're a sex demon and all." Dante's harsh observation stung you, and again, tears fell.

"You're an asshole." You whimpered like a wounded dog. "A first-class asshole. You don't even know how hurtful that was. You don't even know me."

"Am I wrong?"

"Yes! Yes, you are! I have to kill to survive. Do you know how fucked up that is? I can't believe Enzo sent me here. I'm leaving." You pushed him away with all the strength you could muster and opened the bathroom door.

"If you leave, you'll end up hurting someone. Or yourself." Dante said, and you froze.

Maybe he was right, maybe he could help. He did overpower you, and humans couldn't really do that. You spent too much time away from Hell to keep up to date with the news, but you heard rumours of half-demons. Sparda's offsprings in particular.

"Who are you?" You turned to look at him.

"Just someone who's not so different from you. Stay and find out. Or leave, and I'll have to hunt you."

He knew how to bargain.

"Can I at least have some dry clothes?"

His shirt was big on you, swallowing your entire body in it, but it was comfortable, and most importantly, dry. Dante offered you a beer, but you politely declined — alcohol riled you up. He offered you a spare room in his strange shop, and you locked yourself inside of it, refusing to sleep. Your hunger wasn't just physical — it transcended into the realm of dreams, and you didn't want to torment the man who wanted to help you. But he was kind enough not to pressure you into sleeping with him, even if deep down you knew that was the only way to keep you sane.

When you were mentally stable, Dante taught you how to shoot and fight, and when you lost the plot, he forced you into the bathroom, hosing you down with ice cold water. When he left for missions, you begged him to chain you up and lock you in your room, and when he came back, he brought you back to reality. But it was becoming worse than ever. The weeks between your outbursts turned into days, and you were harder to handle each time. Still, Dante didn't even try to convince you to give in. If anything, he admired your stubbornness.

It was late at night when the devil hunter came back from his mission, and the first thing he did was to run upstairs and check on you. Dante turned around on the hallway, stopping when he saw the door to your room wide open and empty. The chains that were supposed to bound you while he was gone were broken, making him think that it wasn't you that somehow escaped, but that someone, or something, broke in. A quick scan around the room and Dante concluded that there was no sign of trespassing — the window of your room was locked from the inside, and so was the front door. Nothing was different, not even the claw marks on the floor.

He frantically checked every room upstairs, calling out your name, asking where you were, but before he went downstairs, Dante stopped at the top of the staircase. He didn't check his bedroom.

His hand hovered over the doorknob and he slowly turned it, quietly pushing it open. Even with the lights off, Dante knew you were there, the outline of your body barely visible in the dim moonlight. He flicked the light switch, and there you were, sprawled on his bed in a torn shirt that left very little to his imagination. But something wasn't right. You weren't tormented by that insatiable hunger, weren't convulsing, you just looked at him through thick lashes with those slitted pupils that he came to both love and hate.

"You're here." Dante tilted his head, one hand close to his gun. Just in case.

"I am." You purred, rolling on your side, your serpentine tail coiling around your ankle.

"Why are you in my room?"

"I was drawn to it. Well, to your scent." You simply shrugged, and he couldn't understand why you were so calm, so docile. Unless...

"Have you fed?" Dante stepped closer, gun now in his hand.

"Mmm, wouldn't you like to know?" You flashed your fangs and fixed him with your eyes, like a viper assessing its prey. "What are you gonna do, shoot me?"

Damn it. You really had to go and fuck everything up. But when he took another step, he could hear, no, feel your heart thumping against your ribcage, too fast for how calm you were trying to appear. Then he saw the beads of sweat on your skin, and the claw marks on your neck, the hair strands clinging to your talons, the wound on your lower lip, and the tears welling up in your eyes. He saw how you hurt yourself for fear of hurting others.

"For a demon, you're a pretty horrible liar." He tossed his gun on the table next to his bed, and you wailed in pain, unable to pretend anymore.

You understood two things in the months you spent with Dante: that he wasn't fully human, and that he wasn't going to give up on you. Yet it didn't make yielding any easier. The last time you fed was at least a century ago. Even if Dante did let you feed off of him, there was no guarantee it would help since, well, he wasn't fully human. But he wasn't going to kill you, and you were running out of self-control.

Fuck.

"Let's get you in the bathtub." Dante's voice was gentler than ever.

"No."

"No? Y/N, I'm not gonna shoot you, that's final."

"I don't... I don't want you to shoot me." You sighed, chewing on your lower lip.

He didn't say anything, and instead waited for you to speak.

"Are you sure it won't kill you?"

"Positive." He nodded.

"Fine. Just know it won't be like with a human."

"What, are you gonna crawl on the ceiling or something?" Dante joked, but the look on your face told him you didn't find it amusing.

"I don't know, I can't remember what it's like."

Oh, you poor thing. He couldn't imagine going through centuries without feeling a touch, a kiss, even a hug. Not that he got laid often — women were drawn to him until he opened his dumb mouth, but it was their loss.

"It's alright, I'll take care of you if you'll let me." Dante promised, and you believed him.

Whether it was your desperation or his confidence, you didn't know, but you truly believed that he could help. You just really hoped he wouldn't fucking die in the process.

"Please." The word was quiet, weak, but full of desire. "I don't know how long until I fully lose it, Dante."

In the blink of an eye, he stood beside the bed, again proving that he wasn't human, and you slowly gained courage. Maybe it would be okay, maybe you would be okay. Your body reacted when you felt his presence, kneeling on the mattress to be at his level. Locking eyes, you swallowed the lump in your throat and placed your hands on his shoulders. He felt like fire under your fingertips, and it made you want to rip open his shirt, which you tried, but Dante wrapped his fingers around your wrists, holding them in place.

"Down, girl."

"I can't, I'm starving."

"I know." He pressed his lips onto your knuckles, so gentle that you thought you might spontaneously combust. "But you need to take it slowly. Don't let it control you."

You nodded, albeit the heat and pain between your legs killing you, and tried to calmly unbutton his shirt when he released your wrists. Your hands trembled, failing miserably with the first button, and while Dante pitied you, he refused to give you a hand. It was tough love, but it was necessary.

"Please, Dante, please help me, please fuck me, pleasepleaseplease-" Your incoherent babbling tempted him, it truly did, but it felt wrong. It felt like he would be taking advantage of your weakness. Men would have walked on corpses to hear a beautiful woman beg like that, and they would have been persuaded in a split second.

But Dante wasn't a normal man. You asked for help, and he would do just that, but not how you wanted. He placed two fingers onto your luscious lips, silencing your devilish tongue, and it worked, because you stopped and stared at him.

"You need to calm down." He said, and you nodded before opening your mouth to suck on his digits. "Not like that." Dante sighed, the leather trousers now very uncomfortable on him.

He didn't tell you to stop, though, because having something to suck on helped you focus on unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. God, you were something else, something equally beautiful and grotesque — a demon with a human heart.

His shirt fell on the floor, and Dante finally pulled his fingers out of your mouth. Your hands rushed to his belt, only for him to swat them away, telling you to relax, to enjoy the moment, but how could you enjoy it when your skin itched with impatience, while he had the patience of a saint?

"I need you, Dante, please. Have I not been good?" The pain in your voice mixed with the sorrowful look in your eyes had him weak, but he remained focused.

"So good." He growled, slowly losing his cool. There was demon blood inside of him, too, after all. "But I need you to stay calm, yeah? Can you do that for me?"

Another reluctant nod, even if you flesh was burning and your heart was racing. Taking a deep breath in, you dragged your sharp claws down Dante's chest, down his abdomen, past his V-line, and only then did he let you unbuckle his belt. You violently pulled it away, tossing it somewhere on the bed, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and holding it in place.

"I'm gonna kiss you now, and you're going to behave."

"Can't promise that." You scoffed at his demand.

He didn't quip back, but instead pressed his lips onto yours, kissing you with a hunger greater than yours, a kiss so sloppy and wet that you thought it was his first time. It wasn't, he was just that needy, and you kissed him back, looping your arms around his neck, moving closer to him until he almost lost his balance. When he pulled away, you whimpered, pathetically begging him to kiss you again, to touch you, to fuck you, the sound of his zipper shutting you up.

"Fuck this." Dante pushed you onto the mattress so hard you bounced back. "Can't hold back anymore."

The grin on your lips should've been a red flag, but he didn't care anymore. His thick, hard cock sprung out of his boxers and you instinctively spread your legs, only for him to grab your ankles and pull you closer, earning a giggle from you.

The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, and Dante groaned when he felt how impossibly wet you were. He really wanted to take his time with you, but he was still a man, and you were a succubus. It was never going to be slow and steady. He pushed past your slick, velvety folds, not giving you any time to adjust to his girth because you took him so well.

You arched your back when he bottomed out, power coursing through your veins as you regained life strength, and he was still alive. For now. His first thrusts were brutal, full of lust, rage, love and hatred, and you bucked your hips, brain and body overwhelmed by the sudden strength inside of you.

"Thank you, thank you!" You cried out, latching your arms behind his shoulders. "Fuck, I've never felt so good!" Your sobs echoed in his bedroom, and with the newfound strength, you managed to hook one leg around Dante's thigh, pushing him on his back.

The mattress dipped under his weight, his hands roaming all over your body to rip the already torn dress off of you. You frantically bounced up and down his cock, palms on his chest to support yourself. He let you have your fun, let you ride him as he took in your beauty, but Dante wasn't in the mood to submit. Not after the months of torture you made him go through. With a supernatural force, he sent you flying across the room, and you hissed when your shoulder blades hit the wall that cracked behind you.

Dante leaped towards you, pinning your hands above your head while you wriggled and fought against his restraint. You got a taste of power and needed more, and he was about to give it to you, but not before crushing your lips under his, reminding you that you were not in charge. Yet, you didn't want to take the hint, and instead coiled your tail around his ankle, yanking it until Dante lost balance and let go of your wrists.

What was supposed to help you turned into a battle for dominance, both with Dante and with yourself, because deep down you knew that you should've yielded, but it wasn't in your nature to submit. You slipped away from him, but he was quicker, grabbing your arm and turning you around, his chest pressed against your back. Dante held you despite your protests, before slowly bringing you down to the floor, on your knees.

"Relax-"

"Don't wanna relax-" You snarled, convulsing under his arms. "Wanna, oh-"

The words melted in your mouth when he slammed his cock back into you, painstakingly slowly rolling his hips while your eyes filled up with tears of ecstasy. You never submitted, always dominated, but the way Dante pushed your head down and fucked you felt so good that you couldn't help but lift your ass up for him to take you however he pleased.

"See? That's much better, isn't it?" He fucking cooed at you, and you sobbed.

"Yes! Yes, yes, oh, God, yes!" You cried out when the tip of his cock bullied your cervix, stretching your sore cunt out. "More, please! I need more!"

"Greedy girl." Dante's fingers bruised your hips, gripping them so tightly you thought he might rip your flesh off.

The power that seeped into your veins was minuscule compared to the the new sensation that you felt — addiction. You became addicted to him, to his touch and his scent, to his cock, like it healed something within you, like you didn't live to suck the life out of humans anymore, but to be with him and only him.

It seemed as though Dante fucked you eternally, and your once insatiable hunger disappeared with each thrust, replaced by pure bliss. Your arms wobbled under the pressure and pleasure, and you bucked your hips against his, chanting his name like a prayer.

"I'm close! Dante, I'm gonna cum!"

"You poor thing." He whispered with a hint of pity in his voice while brutally slamming into you. "When was the last time you came?"

"Never did, no man could make me cum! No one fucked me like you do!"

And Dante believed you. He believed every single word that came out of your sinful mouth, because you came to him looking to put an end to all the misery you caused through sheer sacrifice. You were desperate, and desperation made you honest.

Like clay in his nimble hands, you let yourself be sculpted and shaped by Dante into something else, something new, something better. Oddly enough, he felt the same, as though all his life he'd been navigating through a long, dark tunnel, and he finally found the light at the end.

You came undone on his cock with only his name spilling from your lips, waves of both pleasure and power coursing through your quivering body. When your arms and knees gave in and you almost hit the floor, Dante caught you, one arm around your waist to bring you closer to him. His hips stuttered while he held you, fucking you until your cunt felt hot and sticky with his cum. Slowly and carefully, Dante pulled out, and without a word, he picked you up, carrying you to the en-suite bathroom while you buried your nose in the crook of his neck.

"How are you feeling?" His voice was gentler than ever before as he placed you in the bathtub.

"Like I can live another century without going batshit crazy." You sighed, catching his wrist in your hands. "Thank you. I know you were probably disgusted by me the whole time. I'll leave as soon as I wash myself."

"Actually," Dante tilted his head, a grin spread across his lips, "I was hoping you'd stay."

He wished he could frame the priceless look on your face, with your dishevelled hair, mouth agape and glossy eyes.

"Why?"

"Think about it." Dante turned the tap on, kneeling by the bathtub. "You said you wanna help humanity, didn't you?" He asked, and you nodded. "Great. Then what better way of helping it than by hunting demons? You can already shoot, I made sure of that, and you can definitely put up a fight. Learned that the hard way."

Your eyes darted to the water flowing from the tap, pondering his suggestion. Could it be? Have you found a purpose for yourself? One that didn't involve faking your death or disappearing from villages? One that allowed you to be yourself, without hiding your true nature? One where you didn't have to be so alone?

"I'd like that."

"Good." Dante's fingers brushed through your hair. "And I'll personally make sure you're not going batshit crazy."

"Gee, I'm beginning to think you actually enjoyed that."

"I reserve the right to neither confirm, nor deny."

[anothertimdrakestan]

Iconic Romantic Quotes - Batboys & YJ Headcanons

TW for brief allusions to SH and general depression

p.s. the third one will tug your heart strings

~

Jason Todd - "It's a shame that he can't see you the way I do"

- This man lets jealousy boil him alive

- Watching you make excuses for a man who doesn't deserve you truly makes him sick to the stomach

- There's a permanent scab on the inside of his cheek from him chewing on it instead of knocking your current "boyfriend"s lights out

- Jace doesn't think the chump even deserves the title. He doesn't protect you, dote on your, worship you, or let alone appreciate you

- How sad that the first time that awful man laid hands on you he was suddenly put in a body bag and overnighted to the other side of the country? How strange...

- Giving you space and a (giant hunky) shoulder to cry on Jason bided his time

- He never considered himself soft in any way, before he found himself aching to push your fallen hair behind your ears. he never condemned his rough nature until he realized his calloused hands couldn't be careful enough to wipe the tears from your eyes

- When you were at your lowest, horrified to think that you only deserve the awful hand you'd been dealt, Jason had to speak up. His eyes glassy at the thought of your self hatred and his fist furled at the fact that he left that chump breathing, he said-

- "You might mean nothing to yourself right now, but god you mean everything to me"

Wally West - "It’s like she’s the sun, and I have to orbit around her."

- What a broken cliche to say that finding your soulmates slows your life down

- When Wally sped his way into your heart, you gave him a center, a home base to return to, a spot to always feel pulled towards

- He gets addicted to you quite easily, constantly rushing to your location, just yearning to be around you even if he's only allowed to be silently basking in your warmth

- He swears once you smile at him he runs 8x faster, like the butterflies in his stomach are beating their wings while he runs

- This man could travel the entire world in a day, but he always finds you by the end, though he often has some bizarre gift in hand

- He often gets made fun of, he fell for you so deeply and so young that while his friends want him to spend whole nights out partying or trying to drink until it hits his quick metabolism, he's always adamant that he wants to be home with you, that even when he's out late, his sixth sense tells him when to flash home to give you a kiss goodnight

- You always tell him you're fine, that you never want to be controlling or take him away from his friends, but he always just says his place is with you. that he has plans with friends too, but there's always a piece of him excited to run home to you

- "What can I say babe? It's like gravitational the way you pull me in. Why would I ever want to be away from your warmth?"

Dick Grayson - "And I will kiss every single scar on your body and soul, to remind you that love doesn't have to hurt."

- Dick couldn't fathom that you didn't see yourself the way he did

- As he worshipped the ground you walked on, you spent the stroll checking yourself in reflective windows and trying not to say the wrong thing

- When Dick noticed you flinching at harsh words he felt like he was having a heart attack, the squeezing of his chest almost suffocating him as he tried to process what it meant

- He leaned in to loving you, so much so that he cared for and treasured you enough for the both of you

- Always the insecure you chided him, saying you didn't need the attention and that you were just fine

- What a blessing that a man loved you enough to see through your self deprecating jokes and promises that you were okay

- He never scolded or lectured, just always had two arms open and an unending list of compliments. tiny gifts were always waiting for you, and finally, there was someone in your corner no matter what

- Progress always sneaks up on you, and a few years down the line you were almost as bubbly and fun-loving as your boy wonder. when you asked him why he spent so much time bringing you out of your shell, he just said

- "I saw you the first day I met you. Not the fake version you put on, not the sad soul who felt undeserving. I just have always seen you, my love"

Jaime Reyes - "Tell me every terrible thing you ever did. And let me love you anyway."

- Heroes don't really talk about the mistakes they made on the path to doing good

- Jaime had watched you crumble time and time again at the thought of accidentally or even purposefully hurting people

- He knew better than anyone what it meant to be out of control, and equipped with powers that make dangerous weapons when your emotions are out of whack

- He always made room for you, in stressful situations his eyes fell naturally on yours, asking silently if you needed a hand to hold. No longer would you be left out of conversations or (god forbid) ignored. Jaime's gaze was always on you, whether you meant to be his focus or not

- You both got in the habit of cooling the other off, locking eyes and reminding each other 'it's just you and me my love' until the dark skies faded

- There is no better reaffirmation that you are safe than his hand resting on the small of your back, no better way to bond than the hundreds of late nights you both spent laughing and crying

- Looking back, it was hard to fathom how he'd put up with your darkness, and difficult to put into words what his support meant to you

- Softly wiping a rogue tear that had fallen and letting his hand fall to your chin, he tilted it up meeting your thankful and sorrowful eyes with a smile,

- "Cloudy or not I will be here for you, mi cielo. Whatever happens you will always have me"

Tim Drake - "I notice everything about you. Not in a creepy way—in a way I can’t turn off."

- Was is the graph he'd made of the number of freckles you had or the fact that there was always a little extra money in your wallet whenever you went grocery shopping that clued you in?

- He really did try to be nonchalant, but all the books he'd read about the subject suggested you only found a soulmate once, why would he not give you everything?

- He just liked patterns, like how you like to try something new at your local coffee shop every fourth visit or how moving his lips from your your temple to your neck made you shiver just a tiny bit

- And those little 'thinking of you' gifts were too easy, because there was always a little part of his mind with you at the forefront

- It's the type of relationship where after watching the two of you interact like a well oiled machine (you got the coffee mugs while he comes around to open the car door, you hand him a mug to take a sip while you fumble for you keys until he reminds you which pocket you put them in) ... that type of homely synergy, that makes your friends tell you they want to sleep on a highway

- Not actually, but they are deeply jealous at almost all times.

- You both could get a little too wrapped up in the relationship, your fifth anniversary almost got you arrested trying to remove a brick from the wall where you had your first kiss. Tim was three blocks away getting the penny you'd given him for good luck after you'd met him polished and engraved. It's not his fault he had to threaten the gemstone professional to get them to clean the penny, not everyone was as sentimental as the two of you

- "I had this made, as a sign of our luck. I've looked at a lot of numbers and they all suggest this kind of love can happen just once in a lifetime. How lucky I am that that my once gets to be with you"

Conner Kent - "Nothing scares me. Except losing you."

- When you saw the look on his face, you wondered for a moment if he had been shot too

- When in the blink of an eye he had scooped you into his arms you realized 'nope, just me!' wincing at the realization of the pain

- The Super Boy suddenly had faltered, forgetting about the battle and the stakes, because he'd suffered his greatest weakness - the fear of losing you

- You waved a hand in front of his face, his wet eyes focusing on you- 'hey dingbat it's just my shoulder so lock in' and the color returned to his face

- The next greeting in the hospital you weren't letting him live down his raw display of emotions

- He realized the only way forward was through, he kneeled at the side of your bed, explaining how he'd fell for you over the last months, and that the realization he might never tell you had torn through him

- Now you both were a blushing mess

- Over the next few months you'd become strong allies with none other than Tim Drake, who would use you feigning damsel in distress to get your blubbering lover to sail head first into a number of hilarious pranks

- As you gave your glitter-covered hunk a peck on the cheek you chided him about learning his lesson and trusting your ability to take care of yourself

- "Darlin' I trust you completely [at this point he'd pulled you into his glittery chest and peppered shiny kisses across your face] but I'll never risk losing you, joke or not I will be soaring toward you for the rest of our lives"

Damian Wayne - "You’re the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires."

- It started as good fun. trip up the kid batman who hadn't quite filled out his dad's suit. it had taken clark and barry 15 months to convince bruce to let the kids take care of the world for a week

- And so you'd been sent to Gotham to assist the baby dark knight, who'd been rolling his emerald eyes everytime they met yours

- Suddenly, it had been 6 months. Dames (a newly established pet name) decided not to return to the league, and bruce finally got a well deserved pause from playing the big bat. somehow in all this mess, you'd stuck around

- In a moment of weakness post-battle you'd told him if he ever wanted you gone, he'd only need to pack your handful of things from the mansion up, you'd take the sign and get out of gotham

- Though he teased about grabbing boxes for you weekly, they never appeared.

- Somewhere around 8 months you both were busting a local crime syndicate when your grapple gun broke. in a rush, you pressed yourself against Damian before you could explain the situation

- You forgot about explaining the moment you realized there was a pink tint under the cowl, and that his heart was beating out of his chest

- You arrived home and he hadn't spoken a word, after replacing the gun and stitching yourself up a bit, you found him in your room with boxes

- To say you crashed out was an understatement, manically shouting it wasn't your fault the gun didn't work, pointing accusatory fingers at him saying he couldn't keep it in his pants and that it was so sick of him to toy with your emotions like that after he knew you had a crush on him when you first started

- Damian froze. Closed the distance, and gave you a begging look to explain. But your feathers were always ruffled, assuming only the worst saying you'd pack yourself if he was hell bent on pretending he didn't know just to play game with your head

- "With your head? Do you not know how agonizing these months have been for me? Burning for you and stifling my flame to be professional? Had I known you'd - you'd cared for me to I would've- well I would've-" Damian was a man of action, not of words. His lips crashing into yours were all he could do to convey his honest emotions.

~

~

This was a long one! I do hope you enjoyed. I read all comments & reblog notes btw so let me which was your fav (i'm partial to damian's i think?)

also let me know if it's worth hunting more quotes on pinterest. i do have some ideas for bart, steph, duke, and even bruce cooking

<3

[lo1k-diamonds]

Bubbles 💜 Part 4

SX Seoul Series | Jungkook's Entry

“If you want to be with me.”

PAIRING: Jungkook x (f) Reader

SUMMARY: Jungkook did change - he learned from his mistakes. Did you?

WORD COUNT: 7.4 k

GENRE: Exes to lovers, smuuuuuut, angst, making up

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: arguing, crying, angst, making up, semi-public, fingering, orgasm control/denial, begging, soft Dom Kook if you squint, nipple play, mirror sex, unprotected sex, confessions

PARTS: [1] [2] [3] > [4] <

A.N. And here we have it! I'll miss this couple, they're intense 😁 Sorry for the wait, I hope you enjoy it! 💜 (Thank you @eerieedits for the cool banner 💜)

Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad

“So what do I get for you?”

You barely noticed the girl whose name you couldn’t recall, waiting for you now that the conversation about Jeon Jungkook had ended.

“A porn star martini,” you bit quietly, eyes quickly drifting to the couple just a few tables over, at the bar. Cold sweats chilled your spine as you watched Jungkook laugh and thank the bartender for the beer, all while the girl with him all but drooled all over his bicep.

“Stay calm.”

Youngjoo was the voice of reason, and it stung you. “I am,” you bit at her, glancing at her before staring at the scene again. You couldn’t look away, both dreading and anticipating how that would unfold. “I recognize her,” you admitted, giving in to the anxiety lacing its claws around your heart. “She was at the party, hitting on him a week ago. She is a model.”

“Okay, and what did he say about it?”

You whipped your head, glaring at her. “I told you before, he laughed it off!”

Youngjoo rolled her eyes. “I mean after that. Haven’t you talked about it after that?”

You looked away. “No.”

Youngjoo turned to you with raised eyebrows. “Why not? Are you guys not talking?”

You shrugged. “We’ve sent a few texts. We’ve been busy.”

“You’ve been busy?” she repeated, skeptically. “I mean, of course you have, but it’s not that. You went from not leaving his side to barely not talking?” You could tell by her tone that she was incredulous. “You need to talk to him! You need to be on the same page about all this. Don’t let some misunderstanding happen again. If it’s not meant to be, then it’s not. Just talk to him first.”

You clenched your jaw, finally looking at your best friend to avoid glaring at the girl clinging to Jungkook. “If he wants his fuck boy life, then—”

“Stop putting words in his mouth! So what if some girl hit on him? He went home with you!”

“Actually, he dropped me off so he could help his brother with the roof of his place…”

“Oh, m— Won’t you stop it?! Since when are you this insecure about him?”

You glared at her once again, snapping in a caustic tone, “Since he has models grovelling on their knees, begging for seconds!”

“But he chose you.” You straightened back up on the sofa, and she continued, “He could have them if he wanted, but he chose you.”

Your eyes were locked with hers as you silently fought her without a word. You doubted she was right, and she reproved the way you were handling things. You could see it in her eyes — you promised Jungkook and yourself you wouldn’t make the same old mistakes. When Youngjoo had asked you about getting back together after you had hurt so much over the last year, you had assured her you were more mature now; you both were. So what the hell were you—

“Hi.”

You turned, shuddering with the sound of his voice before you saw him standing there, black leather jacket, wet hair curling over his ears, and a half-drunk beer bottle in his hand. 

“Hi, Jungkook. How are you?”

Youngjoo put you to shame with the way she effortlessly made casual conversation while you couldn’t even say something. Instead, your eyes were on the girls around you, who were casually listening in and ogling Jungkook. 

They threw quizzical glances at you — do you know him?

They gave Youngjoo looks, too — can you introduce us?

But Youngjoo ignored them, and you did the same.

You heard your name, so your attention was pulled into the conversation. “—that she was coming with you and a few friends to the SX tonight, and I thought I’d join you.”

“What a great idea,” Youngjoo praised, probably with more emphasis than she should have. Same as your best friend’s, Jungkook’s eyes were also on you, but unlike him, you couldn’t seem to hold his gaze. Your stomach twisted as you tried ignoring your sweaty palms. You felt like a teenager, the furthest from mature you had ever been. “How about we go get a round of shots? My treat!”

She clapped for the others to follow her, and although the girls offered resistance, Youngjoo managed to drag them along. You got up, too, ready to follow after them, but Jungkook’s presence kept you locked in. Not that he touched you or overtly expressed anything towards you, but his presence next to yours, his arm brushing yours, your hands grazing as his cologne reached your nose, made you stay, standing on shaky legs.

Your eyes stayed fixed on the floor as you took a deep, soothing breath. 

“What’s wrong?”

His question made you finally meet his eyes, only to have your stomach drop. A week ago, you thought it would be best to talk directly and clear things out, but now you just didn’t have the guts. Maybe Youngjoo was right — you were too insecure about him and yourself. You needed that conversation, but not now.

You knew what he’d tell you — you could already see his gentle eyes as he drew you close and said, I know those eyes.

So you took a deep breath and replied before he could.

“I’m just tired,” you explained, attempting a smile. “I’m going home.”

He placed his beer on a nearby table. “I’ll take you home.”

“Stay,” you insisted. “You're having fun.”

“Fun?” he asked, shaking his head slightly with a smile. “Nah, no reason for me to stay. Besides, you don’t look so good. I’ll take you home.”

He gave you a nod to lead the way, and you made your way through the crowd. Once in the lobby, you took your phone from your purse to text Youngjoo about leaving with Jungkook and followed him quietly out into one of the many streets in Itaewon.

Jungkook turned around to check if you were still following and slowed down so you could walk side by side through the Friday night crowd.

“How’s the apartment?” he asked, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Fine, it’s quiet,” you confirmed, meaning to reassure one of the first things he worried about after sleeping there with you the first weekend.

“Good, that’s good. Maybe we just caught a neighbour partying that weekend.”

You nodded and kept going, eyes lost in the partying crowd, smiling and laughing, unlike you.

“What about the washing machine? Still giving you issues?”

“No, the plumber you called fixed it. Thank you.”

Jungkook smiled at you. “You can always do laundry at mine if it gives you problems again.”

You smiled back, closing your coat a little more to stop the winter cold.

“Are the elevators working again?”

“Oh yeah, they fixed it the morning you left. It’s only been two weeks, but I’ve already noticed that they keep at least one of them working.”

“That must be annoying.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I live on the second floor; I take the stairs most of the time.”

“That’s good.” His voice sounded distant for a second. “What about work? Is that other department head still giving you a hard time?”

“I’m still adjusting…”

Your smile dropped from your face, and he instantly reached out to grab your hand. “It’s a phase. Just wait until they get to know you and how good you are.”

“Thank you.” You squeezed his hand and smiled genuinely, noticing the stars in his eyes the moment he stole a glance.

But then he had to let go of your hand to get into the underground parking lot, squeezing in the narrow corridor to allow the many people wanting to reach the street to pass you in the opposite direction.

You asked him to lead, as you didn’t know where he had parked his motorcycle, and he did, unable to talk to you above the noise of roaring engines and loud people, who were excited to party. The same groups kept both of you pressed against the wall as you went further down the stairs, until you exited them on the third level.

It was suddenly much quieter, with faint echoes and the occasional sound of cars driving along the parking lot.

The silence almost gave you whiplash, your ears ringing faintly.

“And the—” Jungkook’s voice was so loud it echoed. He cleared his throat. “The team? Your colleagues, are they nice?”

“Very nice, actually.”

He nodded quietly as he led the way to his red motorcycle. Once beside it, he pulled the keys out of his black leather jacket pocket, then twirled them once.

“Should I take you to a doctor instead?” he asked, and you raised your eyebrows. “I mean, you said you’re tired a lot…”

“No, I’m not sick,” you assure him, noticing his eyes avoiding you. Suddenly, the silence felt heavy again. “Why?”

“Am I… Should I… I mean,” he tried, grabbing his keys firmly in a fist. “If I’m bothering you, I can… give you space.”

You paled. “What?”

“It’s okay, I understand that it’s a lot with the moving back and the new job and… we have our issues, too. I’m sure it’s difficult, I don’t want to make it harder for you.”

Your blood ran so loudly in your ears that you didn’t know if you heard him clearly. Yet, this one word caught your attention. “Issues?”

Your eyes instantly teared up, and your guts twisted. That was it. You knew it, he was done with you.

“I don’t mean—” His wide brown eyes as he waved his hands tried to interrupt your thoughts. “No, I mean—”

“So things aren’t going well,” you thought out loud, feeling a chill up your spine.

“Wait, that’s not what I’m saying.”

In a split second, your eyes were full to the brim, and there was a sob about to shake you, and you instinctively spun on your heels to hide it. “We can talk about this later—”

“No,” he cut in and caught your arm before you could make an escape. Instead, he spun you around, making the back of your legs collide gently against his bike. “I’m never going to let you walk away without things being clear. Never again,” he promised, looking deep into your eyes. Your guts twisted for an entirely different reason. His eyes were puffy but firm, and suddenly your heart ached; you missed him so much. “I’m just… I’m worried. You’re quiet and distant, and I don’t want you to feel like you have an obligation to be with me or something.”

The blood drained from your face. “You— You don’t want to be with me?”

“Of course I do,” he scolded with a hint of a frown. He cupped your cheek. “What nonsense are you saying? Would I even mention it if I didn’t want to be with you?”

Your breath hitched. “You just said something about space.”

“If you need it because—” He looked straight into your eyes, drawing his thumb over your cheek in a caress. “Because I don’t want to be something you worry about.”

Your mouth opened to object — he wasn’t a problem, he was home — but then you closed it as your eyebrows drew closer together.

“So I am,” he said quietly. “Something you worry about.”

Your eyes lowered stubbornly, even as tears pooled again. But then his hand dropped from your face, and it unintentionally stung your heart.

So you raised your gaze sharply. “You’re right, you are, so I’ll just get it off my chest.”

As soon as you said it, you were breathless, watching his glistening eyes. The fear of everything falling apart froze you for a second, but then you swallowed dryly and decided to open up.

“I don’t think I’m a jealous person, I just— I think I have healthy boundaries, that’s all. In the end, I can’t, nor do I want to, control you or anyone you do whatever with. I don’t want to deny you freedom or whatever, either. But I don’t see how I’m supposed to keep quiet. If you need multiple women to give you attention and hit on you, then maybe restarting just isn’t a good idea.”

He just looked at you the whole time, not interrupting, not moving. He listened attentively to every word you said, until he raised an eyebrow. “Wait, is that the problem? You think I want that? Is that why you’re acting distant?”

You crossed your arms over your chest to hide the tremble. “I’m not…”

“Is that why you text me less and are tired so often?”

“I’ve been really tired…”

He took a step closer to you. “Is that why you don’t come to mine anymore?”

You pursed your lips, looking away. Now that he said it, you had to admit that, once again, you were a coward in many ways.

“Is that why you say you’ll come to a party with me and then don’t show up?”

Your eyes found his immediately, and your hesitation must have been evident in your face. By the way he looked at you, you knew there was no use in keeping secrets.

“I did show up. Remember Soyeon? She helped you with a class one or two years ago? She was there. And Haechan? He graduated with me. He was there too.”

Jungkook nodded slowly. “I know, I saw them.”

His patience was enough for you to know he was waiting for more, and you pressed your lips before letting it out. “I arrived before you did. I saw you arrive, and by the time I got to the kitchen, I overheard Seungkwan saying something about you needing to be free and not doing relationships and all that…”

Jungkook groaned loudly, covering his face with his hands for a moment before suddenly wrapping his arms around you to let his forehead fall to your shoulder.

“You gave me such a scare.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, confused about his reaction but happy to hold him, too.

“I thought you were giving up on us.”

You scoffed playfully. “And your reflex is to give me space?”

He snapped back up to look at you. “I don’t want to push you away!”

“Well, you are! Or would,” you corrected, biting your tongue. “Shouldn’t you be pulling me in instead of—”

He pulled you in by the waist. “I am.” You pressed your lips again, and he sighed. “Why would you listen to anything Seungkwan says? What does he know about what I want or do? I’m guessing you didn’t stick around to hear my reply.”

You blushed and looked down at his chest. “I… did not… So what do we do now?”

“About what?”

“About how I feel.”

He hummed, looking up as though recalling. “You mean about your jealousy?”

“Yes,” you said, still looking away. “Maybe I don’t even have the right to be jealous…”

“You do.” He pulled your arms around his neck. “If you want to.”

You scoffed. “If I want to be jealous?”

“If you want to be with me.”

Your mocking smile dropped before the seriousness in his eyes. “You know I do.”

He nodded. “I do, but… Can we be more?”

Your eyebrows quirked. “More than together?”

“Officially together,” he whispered, looking at you as your guts twisted again.

“We aren’t? I mean, I thought— We’re either together or we’re not,” you pointed out, swallowing hard.

“Right, that’s good.” He squeezed you closer. “No, forget I said anything.”

“No, that—” Your breath caught as you pressed your palms to his chest, grounding yourself. “What does that mean?” you asked, seeking clarity while your sight grew blurry. “I never thought of it in any other way, did you—” Your voice wavered with a pain you couldn’t hold back. “Did you— Those girls—”

“No. Look at me,” he urged, searching your eyes now full of tears. “No. I didn’t know how you felt about us, but—”

“We said we’d try again!” you exploded, the tears streaming down your face. “What do you think that means?!”

You were trembling, unable to keep your pain and fear from lashing out, but he didn’t even flinch. He kept you close and guided your foreheads to touch. “It means we love each other. I know that. It means you’re mine, just like I’m yours. I know that,” he insisted. “But I needed to know how you thought about it. I… You’ve been so distant for the past week.”

“You could have asked me about it.”

“We should have talked, clearly,” he instantly agreed, looking deeply into your eyes despite your snarky comment. “If you knew how much I want to be with you, you would never have gotten jealous like this. You would have never ignored me after you just saw me talking to someone—”

You smacked his shoulders. “Can you blame me?!” It was hard not to cry, but suddenly you were angry all over again. “I thought you were keeping your options open or regretting giving up your fuck boy life!” His hands were firmly on your waist as you tried not to sob. “You knew how I felt and still—!”

“I didn’t know you felt like this.”

“I told you!! And you laughed!!”

Jungkook frowned, about to shake his head and deny ever laughing, when suddenly it hit him. “You mean at my work dinner party? No, but I didn’t think you were serious!”

“What? Why not?!”

“Because there’s no way I’d ever look at someone else,” he deadpanned, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Not when I have you back in my life, it’s just— I thought you were joking!”

You caught your breath, realizing as he tried defending himself that you were crazy angry. You had tears on your face, red cheeks, were panting, and your throat felt rough.

“Well, I wasn’t,” you managed to mutter after calming down. Meanwhile, you could see Jungkook thinking about things as well, and he looked calm and sober, never taking his eyes or hands off you.

“Alright, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I can’t stop anyone from talking to me, but I have told anyone who asked that I was taken.”

“At the party, you introduced me as your friend.”

“That’s exactly why I wanted to make sure!” he blurted out, and as you frowned, he rushed to add, “Not because I’m not in it one thousand percent, but because I don’t want to put words into your mouth or go too fast! Remember? I don’t want to put you in that position again.”

Your lips trembled as your heart ached. You were clearly the one who hadn’t learned from her mistakes.

“And tonight? The girl you saw?” he continued. “She asked me if I was lying about being with someone because she hasn’t seen me with anyone in a while.”

Your jaw hardened as you grumbled, “Well, then. Let’s go back to the club and give her a show—”

“No,” he cut in and stopped you before you could leave the comfortable position you were in, between him and his motorcycle. “I don’t care about what anyone thinks, but I do care about us. I’ll just give your name next time, you fight it out.”

“You want me to fight her?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow as he hugged you.

He chuckled, “No, obviously. I want to walk in with you hand in hand and hug you and kiss you without worrying that you won’t like it because we’re going too fast.”

“You thought I wouldn’t?” You were in disbelief. “I’d always like it.”

“Always?” He looked into your eyes, and your knees were weak. You nodded. “You wouldn't think it's too fast?”

You shook your head eagerly. “No! I want to be with you, the whole deal, the whole package. It's not too fast,” you raised your hand to caress his cheek, “if anything, it's too slow. We need to make up for the time we lost.”

He nodded quietly, licking his lips. “Can we pick it back up where we left it?”

You grabbed his leather jacket and pulled him close. “Yes. Just kiss me, I miss you—”

He captured your lips in a kiss, and you were never so happy to forget about whatever you were saying. You dove headfirst, showing him you were as desperate and crazy about him as he was about you. You could barely breathe, and all thoughts about where you were flew out the window. All you cared about was licking the lingering taste of beer still in his mouth while you grabbed his hair just as firmly as he grabbed yours.

The more he consumed you, pushing his tongue past your lips and sinking his fingers into your hips, the more heated you became. Your thoughts were clouded as you got intoxicated — his taste, his scent, his touch, the lip ring grazing your lip, his hair curling around your fingers. You weren’t thinking, you just had a visceral need to be his again. Not just to correct your wrongs, but to rewrite history.

His hand on your hip raked your dress up to squeeze your ass and you did the only sensible thing possible — you sat on his motorcycle. Instantly, your leg laced around his waist, pulling him closer to you. The hard-on grazing your core told you everything you needed to know; it was your carte blanche.

“Kook, don’t make me wait,” you begged once he gave you a reprieve and kissed down your jaw.

He wasn’t shy about humping you, gripping your leg around him so firmly you were sure it would bruise. “What do you want, bubbles?”

“Need,” you corrected, unapologetically grabbing his head and squeezing your tits between your arms in the process, hoping he’d notice what was right under his nose.

“What do you need?” he breathed, dragging his lips over your chest until he hid in the valley between your breasts.

The anticipation alone was making you throb and clench, gluing your underwear to you while you wished you had no clothes separating your skins. “You. Inside me,” you moaned, feeling his tongue licking every stretch of skin he could while he ground against you roughly. If he were inside you, you’d be undone by now. “Please,” you begged, your voice wavering as you writhed. You leaned in to speak as closely to his ear as possible. “I need to be yours again, please.”

Your voice faded into a whimper when he bit down on one of your tits, yet it wasn’t that that made you gush between your legs, bracing yourself for what you wanted most. He placed you on the bike more firmly, wrapping your other leg around him, then pushed your underwear to the side and skimmed your dripping folds ever so lightly. Enough for you to moan and for him to groan against your chest.

“Fuck… bubbles,” he sounded muffled but you didn’t care, proud that he knew you were more than ready for him.

You weren’t shy from incentivizing him to continue, whispering in his ear, “Feel that? For you,” you moaned, trembling from the sensations shaking you. “I’m so ready for you, you’ll feel so good, please…”

You squirmed, trying to make his fingers touch you more firmly where you needed them, but as usual, Jungkook did what he pleased. He chose to pull his hand away despite your request, and as your pleas shifted to whimpers, he pushed your coat over your shoulder. You shimmied, easily taking it off.

Then, he slid the zipper of your dress down your back and pushed the straps down your arms. Your skin tingled under his touch while you were dazed by the hickeys he was leaving across your chest. Even feeling him unhook your bra didn’t startle you; you only realized his goal when he pushed away all barriers and finally got a nipple inside his mouth.

You had to make your best effort not to let your moans echo in the parking lot. It was so hard, you started trembling, sinking your nails into his scalp, when his hips snapped forward as though he wished he were inside you right now. You showed him you wanted the same by helping him dry humping into you, the fraction of friction enough to have you begging yet again, but he had other plans.

He kept nibbling and torturing your nipple in his mouth while his free hand got under your skirt again, unabashedly going straight for your core.

Your efforts to suppress your moans made your very bones shake as his thumb gently drew circles on your clit. Every new motion elicited a new shudder, to the point you were holding your breath and letting your body unfold along with the pleasure. It was so singular and soft, immediately contrasted by his mouth suckling, making your toes curl.

“Kook, please,” you cried as soon as you could, surfacing to draw a quick breath before sinking into it again.

“What do you need, bubbles?” he asked again, nuzzling and pecking all over your chest as though he was so lost in you, he no longer knew what you needed.

As if that was possible.

“You. Inside me,” you managed to say through the shivers, making your lower belly coil. Every lap of his thumb was a threat to your sanity, pushing you closer. You sank your nails into his scalp and crossed your legs behind him so he’d stay as close as possible. “I need you, I missed you… Kiss me, please.”

Your desperation was obvious in your breathy words, and your heart thumped when his lips left your chest to acquiesce. His mouth was quick to slot in with yours, instantly seeking your taste with his tongue as though being inside you meant in every way possible. You kissed him harder, knowing it would bruise your lips. His thumb disappeared momentarily as he adjusted the clothes between your bodies, and you moaned breathlessly in anticipation. Only what suddenly invaded you was not his hard dick as you had hoped, but two fingers that he curled inside you.

You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut further when he started playing with your slick, getting his fingers properly coated by pulling away and pushing back inside you multiple times.

“How— How could you—” you complained, finally managing to open your eyes.

His eyes sparkled mischievously as he kept you as close as could be with your foreheads pressed together. He chuckled sensually, and you throbbed around his fingers. “Did you forget where we are?” he asked. Your lashes fluttered as you tried to think, but it was impossible while he fingered you with that deliciously slow and consistent rhythm. “Besides, I have to make you a good girl. Make you earn it first.”

His playfulness made your stomach flutter, clenching around his fingers before you even realized how close you were. You gripped him harder, closer to you, so needy you couldn’t think further than him, right there, with you.

“Tell me what you want,” you whispered, trembling with want. He ghosted your lips as you breathed, “Whatever you want, I—”

Everything happened so fast. Your mind was invaded with possibilities of what he might have wanted, from you getting on your knees to suck him to him turning you around and fucking you raw, either way covering your insides white. As if your fantasies weren’t enough, he raised his thumb, trying to give you extra friction. For a split second, you were sure you’d come in seconds.

But then the loud noise of a door slamming open broke through your haze, and everything stilled. Jungkook’s hand stopped as he hugged you closer, hiding your face in the crook of his neck with a possessive grip that quickly turned into a soothing caress.

You heard the laughter and steps of people entering the parking lot not so far from you while your racing heart calmed inside your chest. Jungkook’s scent and embrace were enough to keep you relaxed, but then his hand slid off you slowly, and you cried out quietly. His neck muffled it, but still.

“No…” You whined. “I was right there.”

“Sorry, bubbles.”

You sulked hard and pulled away abruptly to glare at him, but your chin dropped instead. He was casually licking your slick off his fingers while the group of people got inside their car a few rows behind you.

You blinked, befuddled, and before you could say something, he was already kissing you again. The way he pressed himself to you, hard, hot, and tasting of you, scrambled your mind entirely. Licking your taste on his tongue made you grab him close and press him to your needy core. It was enough to move your hips, dry humping him while his hands grabbed your ass and helped.

You were so turned on that the lightest touch was enough to set you ablaze. “Fuck, please… Jungkook, please…”

“I want to, bubbles.” He groaned, kissing down your jaw. “You drive me fucking insane.” You agreed eagerly, nuzzling him while your hands tried to search for his belt. “But I want to take you home.”

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed, unbuckling his belt when he stopped your hands. You faintly heard tires screeching as a car left the parking lot, but your mind was focused on Jungkook.

“Now,” he clarified softly, raising his hand to brush your hair behind your ear. “I need to take you home.”

Suddenly, the lust dictating your every move receded. Your mind was brought to a conversation you two had one month ago, and everything was clearer.

I hate that I brought you here 'cause I wanted to see you here, in my home, as if that could bring back what we once were.

Jungkook always needed to bring you home because you were the woman of his dreams. The one he loved with his whole heart, whom he could never hate.

You cupped his cheeks and nodded, kissing him tenderly. “Take me home, Kook.”

His precious smile meant everything. He quickly helped you fix your clothes and put your coat back on before buckling his belt and giving you the extra helmet he always kept under the seat. Once seated behind him, you kissed the back of his neck before putting your helmet on and holding onto him.

As usual, as soon as the motorcycle engine roared, you let all thoughts fade from your mind. There were no more worries or doubts, just Jungkook taking you back home, as if you had never left.

The way to his home was paved with tenderness and care. He drove carefully, not too slow, not too fast, grabbing your hand on his chest whenever he had to stand still at a red light. You responded by pressing yourself flush to him, molding to his body like a blanket. You knew by the way he touched your leg sporadically or squeezed your hand that he loved every second.

When he parked in the underground garage of his apartment building, no words were exchanged. Not even all the way up to his apartment. You both moved in silent tandem, storing the helmets away, then holding hands and making way to the elevator. You stood close, easily curled up to his chest while you waited, and the familiarity of that moment soothed you. It was just like three weeks ago, just like one year ago; thankfully, nothing had changed.

When you entered his apartment, you hung up your coat on the coat hanger, the same one he had kicked to the floor in a fury one month ago, when you fought. When you drove him insane because, despite the words out of his mouth, the one thing Jungkook never wanted was for you to leave.

You smiled at the memory. “I’m home,” you sighed, stepping in.

His living room was just as you remembered; the blanket you used to snuggle on the couch was still there, as was your favorite coffee mug next to the coffee machine in the kitchen. 

Before you could turn around and tell him how much those little things made you feel at home, his arms wrapped around you from behind. And just like that, you were more than welcomed back, more than safe.

You pulled his arms further around your middle, making him drape over you like a blanket this time.

“Bubbles…”

His whisper in your ear was enough for you to turn around and meet his waiting lips. He didn’t relent his hold for one second; instead, he pulled you flush to him, kissing you gently before softly picking you up from the floor. You held onto him with arms and legs, sighing into his kiss as he carried you.

He placed you gently on the bed, and you were quick to get on your knees so your lips would stay connected to his at all times. You were so heated, pulling his shirt so he’d take it off and welcoming him straight after when he returned his mouth to yours, that you barely noticed his deft fingers sliding your zipper down. Yet as soon as you did, you peeled the dress and everything else as quickly as possible. The moment your lips connected once again, he was unbuckling his belt, and the very sound made you clench unapologetically. You wanted him so much you wouldn’t be able to think until all of him was all over you.

You tried to move, but your foot got stuck, forcing you to turn and look. Your heels were getting tangled in the sheets and you chuckled, sitting back on your butt to take them off. Jungkook smiled too, never taking his eyes off you as he stripped naked. Yet, your eyes drifted from him to the mirror behind him after throwing your heels on the floor. Not just because of the view of his round ass and sculpted back, but the whole image — you on the bed, naked, waiting for him. It reminded you of the first time you got back together, when he moved the mirror on purpose so he could see you.

Before he could put his knees on the bed and embrace you again, you got on all fours and reached out your hand to him. He grabbed it instantly, letting you guide him behind you to face the mirror too.

“I want you to see me every time you look into this mirror,” you told him, kissing his hand before putting it on your body. “Even when I’m not here.”

He brushed his hands down your curves slowly, admiring you in front of him as he got on the bed. Soon, his whole body was a blanket again, covering you from head to toe. His strong chest pressed to your back as his broad shoulders framed you, leaving nothing to the imagination, not even his excitement.

Yet your mind didn’t go there immediately. Instead, you basked in his sweet caresses and kisses as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “I always have, bubbles…”

Your heart thumped loudly inside your chest as you shuddered, knowing he was telling the truth. Knowing that was how deep you were for him.

Jungkook didn’t take long to trace, kiss, and nuzzle every bit of skin you left for him to find, taking pleasure in nibbling and tickling you so you’d squirm and chuckle. Meanwhile, you had no gripe with pressing yourself further into him, scratching his arms, and bucking your hips, trying to get him to align with you. 

At first, he chuckled, playing along, but eventually, he grabbed your hips. “Eager?”

“I’m a good girl, and we’re no longer in a parking lot,” you replied. He nipped your shoulder in retaliation, but you weren’t taunting him. “We’re home, so won’t you come home to me?”

He groaned, grabbing your hair to turn your head so you’d meet his lips. His mouth was needy, almost rough on yours, and you matched him. You were busy meeting his tongue and trying to lick his lip ring when you felt him pressing the head of his cock to your entrance.

Your chin immediately dropped, turning a needy kiss into a messy one, especially when he thrusted shallowly, trying to stretch you to his size. You both groaned, loving the searing pleasure climbing your spine as he bottomed out.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and you whimpered. His fingers started drawing gentle circles on your clit and your hips buckled against him. You could feel him sliding so well, melting under the strength of his arms and the sweetness of his lips. “You’re so wet…”

You bit your lip, letting the way he fit inside you override your senses. It was so easy to let go and forget everything when Jungkook kept whispering sweet nothings into your ear while he rubbed your clit slowly. His hips were even slower, barely moving while he stayed perfectly hard inside you, as though telling you how amazing you felt was more important than fucking you.

It drove you wild; the more gentle his touch, the more you needed more. The more he told you how much he wanted you, the more you craved him. To the point that when he bit your earlobe playfully, you snapped your hips back, making him reach deep and bottom out again.

His hand automatically striked your asscheek, but you felt it like a caress.

“Needy,” he whispered, nibbling your shoulder, and you sighed.

“Only for you.”

His hand darted from your ass to your hair, pulling ever so slightly so you’d arch your back. His hips gained a rhythm, snapping to yours more vehemently while he suckled and took nips at your neck. 

You grunted, dazed and happy. You wanted everything, from his kisses and teases to the way he rutted into you and caged you in like you were his. His fingers left your hair to your core again, knowing how to softly pave the way of your pleasure while your walls clenched around his length, feeling him slide into you so well. The sloppy sounds made you proud.

Until he slowed down and bit your ear again, knowing your squirms were because he was keeping you on edge for far too long.

You were about to call him out when he whispered, “I want to look at you.”

You raised your head to look into the mirror, having completely forgotten about it, and met his gaze. His eyes glistened sweetly, trained on you while his hips kept a sweet rhythm, and you sighed. This was all about you two, not whatever he did before he found you again.

So you raised a hand and guided his sweet lips to meet yours, telling him with a slow kiss that you loved him. You could always have hot, frenzied sex, but right now, you wanted that sweet loving only he could give you.

He understood you perfectly. He pulled out and sat on the bed, grabbing your hand to keep you close while giving you the choice of what would happen next. You rose to your knees and smiled at him, unable to hide how much your heart thrummed with his gentleness toward you. Then, you leaned back, splaying your hair on his pillow while pulling him over you. His eyes eagerly took in your silhouette, including your smile, as you spread your legs and welcomed him. You belonged in his bed, on his pillows, and he belonged to you.

He instantly crushed you to the mattress, sweetly wrapping your legs around him as he kissed you deeply. He didn’t just love you with passion; he lived it too.

Aligning himself with you took a second, and sliding into you, filling you whole, was instantaneous. You gasped as he pecked your cheek and moved with him, knowing this was it. He wasn’t just enjoying feeling you, nor guiding your pleasure in ways that blew your mind. He was looking at you with love and desire unfolding with every thrust. Every time your bodies pieced together, stealing your breath away between one moan and another, his starry eyes stayed on yours, locked together, strengthening the foundations of your commitments until you were ready to cry out.

“Kook…” you breathed, quickly squinting your eyes. You wanted to look at him, but as your insides coiled, ready to be released at any moment, it was harder and harder.

“I’m here, bubbles,” he assured you. He grabbed your hands, pressing them to the mattress next to your head, and you knew that look. Knew that angle, recognised the snap of his hips, and soon the burn stretched through your body, making you keen. He knew you so incredibly well that you weren’t surprised when he sharpened his thrusts. There was no hesitation, just pure want and something deeper and gentler.

Your nails sank into the back of his hands as you bucked your hips, helping him to the last of your strength. Your breathing changed, and so did your moans as you arched your back, and he sank into you. He searched for your mouth, kissing your lips once, twice, with the same cadence as his hips until you collapsed. 

You arched against him, unable to keep your eyes locked with his or that sweet kiss any longer. Your climax floored you, making you scream and tremble as you felt everything. The way he groaned as he hid in your neck, the way his body framed yours with as much gentleness as fucking that need allowed him, and finally, the way he throbbed inside you, releasing warm ropes of cum to make you feel complete.

His lips peppering your neck with kisses quickly reached your own, pressing gently before he lay beside you. 

He pulled you into his arms as you both caught your breath. You rested your head on his chest, and he grabbed your hand. 

“I love you,” he whispered, brushing your knuckles with his lips.

You could hardly be happier. “I love you, too,” you said, kissing his sweaty pec. 

“I need you to know it,” he insisted, looking into your eyes. “When you came back, I felt pathetic. You reminded me of how happy I was before you left me. Of how much it hurt to lose you. Of what I did to try to forget you and how it changed me. So much so, I almost lost you in this whole thing. Even when I knew, as soon as I saw you again, that I wanted no one else. That I wasn't happy with the way I was doing things. That I still love you and want to spend my life with you, even if you tore my life apart when you left.”

You frowned. “Kook—”

“No, I’m saying it because that’s where I stand. This opportunity with you is not just… a gamble or giving it a shot. I love you, I want you, my life isn’t complete without you. No one could ever take your place. It’s been two years since I met you, and this is still true. I want to be with you and be the Jungkook who loves you. Because when you’re in my life, I’m happy and strong enough to live as I dreamt. You're part of all this, of me,” he whispered, kissing your fingers again. “I want you to know that.”

“Kook,” you called, with tears in your eyes. His teary gaze met yours, and you jerked forward to hug him with all your heart. “I love you, too, and I want you too, so much! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I… I should have talked to you immediately. I let it all get to my head. It won't happen again, I promise.”

He nodded, petting your hair as he held you to his chest. “It's part of trying again, right? As long as we figure it out together, I'm happy. But you know what could help?”

You withdrew to look at him with a furrowed brow. “What?” 

He grinned. “A certain ring.”

He pressed his lips to your fingers again, unable to hide a playful smile, while you chuckled.

“One thing at a time.”

He chuckled. “Maybe next year.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Trump’s CFPB kills data-broker rule

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in PITTSBURGH TONIGHT (May 15) at WHITE WHALE BOOKS, and in PDX on Jun 20 at BARNES AND NOBLE with BUNNIE HUANG. More tour dates (London, Manchester) here.

Something amazing happened from 2020-2024: even as parts of the Biden administration were encouraging genocide and covering up the president's senescence, a small collection of little-regarded agencies were taking a wrecking ball to corporate power, approaching antitrust and consumer protection with a vigor not seen in generations.

One of the most effective agencies during those years was the Consumer Finance Protection Bureau. Under the direction of Rohit Chopra, the CFPB finally used its long-dormant powers to rein in the most egregious and abusive conduct of America's most predatory corporations, like banks, fintech, and repeat corporate offenders, with a 7-2 Supreme Court mandate to go hard:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/10/getting-things-done/#deliverism

As impressive as the whole CFPB agenda was, the standout for me was its attack on America's data brokerage industry. Data brokers are effectively totally unregulated, and they buy and sell every intimate fact of your life. The reason every device in your life – smart speaker, car, toothbrush, thermostate – spies on you all the time is because data brokers will buy any data from anyone and sell it to anyone, too.

Data brokerages put "surveillance capitalist" companies like Google and Meta to shame (indeed, Big Tech buys a lot of data from brokerages, as do agencies like the DEA, ICE and the FBI, who treat the brokerages as a warrant-free, off-the-books mass surveillance system). Data brokerages combine data about your movements, purchases, friends, medical problems, education, love life, and more, and bucket you into categories that marketers (or scammers) can buy access to. There are over 650,000 of these categories, including "seniors with dementia," "depressed teenagers" and "US military personnel with gambling problems":

https://themarkup.org/privacy/2023/06/08/from-heavy-purchasers-of-pregnancy-tests-to-the-depression-prone-we-found-650000-ways-advertisers-label-you

Congress hasn't passed a new consumer privacy law since 1988's Video Privacy Protection Act. The last technological privacy issue your legislature considered important enough to address was the scourge of video-store clerks telling newspapers which VHS cassettes you took home:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/06/privacy-first/#but-not-just-privacy

Congress's massive failure created equally massive risks for the rest of us. From phishing and ransomware attacks to identity theft to stalking and SWATting, America's privacy nihilism enabled mass-scale predation upon all of us, rich and poor, old and young, rural and urban, men and women, racialized and white.

That's the void that the CFPB stepped into last summer, when they passed a new rule that would effectively shut down the entire data brokerage industry:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/16/the-second-best-time-is-now/#the-point-of-a-system-is-what-it-does

Yesterday, Trump's CFPB boss, Russell Vought, killed that rule, stating that it was "no longer necessary or appropriate":

https://www.wired.com/story/cfpb-quietly-kills-rule-to-shield-americans-from-data-brokers/

Here's the thing: Trumpism relies on the fusion of two groups of people: a tiny number of oligarchs, and millions of everyday people who are constantly victimized by those oligarchs. To get this latter group of Christmas-voting turkeys to stay in the coalition, Trump needs to delivery something that keeps them happy. Mostly, Trump delivers negative things to keep them happy – the spectacle of public cruelty to immigrants, women, trans people, academics, etc. There is a certain libidinal satisfaction that comes from watching your enemies suffer – but you can't eat schadenfreude. You can't make rent or put braces on your kids' teeth or pay your medical bills with the sadistic happiness you feel when you hear the sobs of people you've been taught to despise.

For Trump to keep the turkeys voting for Christmas, he needs to do something for them. He can't just do things to scapegoats. But America's eminently guillotineable oligarchs have found so many ways to turn working peoples' torment into riches, and they are so greedy and unwilling to give up any of those grifts, that Trump can't manage to deliver anything positive to his base. Last week, his FTC killed the "click to cancel" rule that required companies that tricked you into buying subscriptions to make it easy for you to cancel them:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/05/12/greased-slide/#greased-pole

There isn't a single person in the Trump base who isn't harmed by data brokers. Every red-hat-wearing MAGA footsoldier has been swindled with a recurring-payment scam by clicking a deceptive link. The material conditions of the lives of Trump's base – already in severe jeopardy thanks to the massive inflation the tariffs will cause, and the plummeting wages that the ensuing mass business-closures will bring about – cannot be improved in any way.

I don't think anyone knows for sure how much support Trump can win solely by torturing the people his supporters hate, even as those supporters' lives get worse and worse. The one thing I'm sure of, though, is that it's less support than Trump would get if he could do something – anything – to make their lives even a little better.

Trump owes his success to coalition-building. The Trumpist agenda – ripoffs and racism and rape – has been around forever, in festering pockets like the John Birch Society, but those feverish monsters were encysted by the body politic and kept away from power. When a group of people who've been unsuccessfully trying to do something for a long time suddenly attain success, the most likely explanation is that they have found coalition partners to join them in their push.

Every coalition is brittle, because coalition partners want different things (if you want the same thing, you're just a group – "coalitions" are, definitionally, made up of people who want different things). They have shared goals, sure, but some of the things that some of the coalition partners want are things that the other partners totally reject. When one partner wins, the other partners lose. Trump's been good at holding together his coalition, but he's running up against some hard limits.

Here's what Naomi Klein told Cerise Castle from Capital & Main/The American Prospect:

The most serious vulnerability that Trump has is that a large part of his base really hates Silicon Valley and is not interested in being replaced by machines. So it’s a monumental bait-and-switch that Trump has done with this immediate alignment with the billionaire class in Silicon Valley, and if the left can’t exploit that, then we’re doing something wrong.

https://prospect.org/culture/2025-05-13-moment-of-unparalleled-peril-interview-naomi-klein/

Killing the CFPB's data broker rule is a pure transfer from the Trump base to Silicon Valley oligarchs, whose hunger for our private data know no bounds.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/05/15/asshole-to-appetite/#ssn-for-sale

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[genderkoolaid]

this is a genuine question-- not trying to bait. you seem reasonable and knowledgeable and opinionated about lots of issues.

what's your opinion/ stance on paraphilias? how do you see the distinctions between "kink" "fetish" and "paraphilia"? and any other takes you have about "harmful" paraphilias that you don't see discussed often, etc.

Some general thoughts on the topic:

I am strongly against the idea of thoughts or feelings alone bearing moral weight. I think the idea that they do does far more harm than good, as it puts pressure on people to micromanage their internal experiences through shame, and that prevents them from being able to have a calm and reasonable understanding of their own thoughts and feelings. When you aren't afraid of having thoughts or feelings, it is much easier to identify how they influence and make choices accordingly.

All of these categories are made up by people, so I don't think there necessarily are distinctions. IIRC "paraphilia" is a specifically psychiatric term. As people have discussed elsewhere, what is considered normal sexuality vs abnormal sexuality varies heavily across cultures, and I'm not super concerned with making a clear cut distinction for every experience. I think all things considered that the medical model of "it's not a clinical issue unless it's causing problems in your life & harm to yourself or others" is a good enough way of approaching things.

I think a lot of people conflate having certain thoughts or feelings with having impulse control issues, and assume that people with certain thoughts or feelings must be incapable (or will inevitably fail at) exercising their free will in navigating those feelings. Which ironically can create a self-fulfilling cycle where people get scared or ashamed of their feelings and never practice relating to them in healthy ways, so they do feel out of control. And for people with impulse control issues, they deserve support and assistance in that.

I choose to believe and act as though everyone has inherent worth and dignity on an existential level, and that cannot be changed or destroyed. No kind of sexual desire makes someone less of a person, or less deserving of being taken seriously and compassionately as a person.

Harm, both doing and receiving it, is an inevitable part of life and we will never get rid of this. The best way to deal with the inevitability of harming and being harmed is to build and maintain practices that help is navigate healing those harms.

I guess my "opinion on paraphilias" is that to a large degree it's none of my business what goes on in other people's minds, that shame and the model of thoughtcrime does more harm than good to everyone, people should be allowed to engage in weird sex stuff alone or with others who are consenting without having to justify themselves to strangers. Sex stuff and relates issues can be scary and complicated but we have to be brave about it and come up with ways of navigating these issues that are best for everyone, holistically.

[misticatarot]

🌙 What You’re Not Seeing Yet – Extended Tarot Reading

Pick an Image (1-2-3)

1) 🔄 Eight of Pentacles (Reversed)

❓ “What am I working for—and why?”

This card reveals a truth that may be hard to admit: you’re putting in effort, showing up, doing the work... but it may not actually be aligned with who you are. There’s a chance you’ve been following a path because it seemed right, or safe, or expected—rather than because it truly feels yours.

What you’re not seeing yet is that hard work isn’t always meaningful work. Sometimes, we end up investing our time and energy into building someone else’s idea of success, chasing rewards that don't really nourish us. The reversed Eight of Pentacles advises you to let go of what you are currently doing. All attempts to move forward will not lead to success. In the chosen area, you will not be able to grow or understand new things. You must quickly decide to abandon your goals. If you don't stop, there is a high risk of losing yourself and being disappointed by life.

🔹 Reflection prompt:

“If I stopped doing this—would I feel relieved or guilty?” "What is the meaning of my actions?"

There’s no shame in letting go of something that no longer supports your growth. Walking away isn’t always quitting. Sometimes, it’s the most self-honoring choice you can make.

2) ⚖️ Two of Pentacles (Upright)

❓ “How can I hold it all together—without losing myself?”

You’re balancing a lot right now—tasks, feelings, relationships, expectations. And on the surface, it might look like you’re managing. But deep down, are you thriving or just surviving?

This card reminds you that balance isn't the same as harmony. Sometimes, it’s just controlled chaos.

What you're not seeing yet is that not everything deserves to be kept in motion. Some things you're holding onto might be draining you more than supporting you.

🔹 Reflection prompt:

“What part of this is for me, and what part is just to keep others happy?” “Where am I sacrificing myself just to keep things from falling apart?” "Where is my center?" "How can I avoid losing my balance?"

True balance doesn’t mean juggling everything. It means choosing wisely where to place your energy. You’re allowed to drop the things that no longer serve your center. To solve the problem, you need to take many factors into account. You must try to combine different processes, take care of yourself and others. One process completely depends on another. If something is overlooked, the entire system could collapse.

3) ✨ Knight of Pentacles (Upright)

❓ “Where am I going—and what am I willing to give in return?”

This card speaks to your potential, your long-term vision, and your ability to build something lasting and grounded.The Knight of Pentacles is steady, focused, and patient. He doesn’t rush—but he always moves forward.

What you're not seeing yet is how much power there is in slow, intentional progress. You don’t need to hustle to prove your worth. You just need to keep showing up—with care.

But there’s a warning too: don’t get stuck in overthinking, and don’t try to skip steps out of impatience. Both hesitation and haste can sabotage your journey.

This road will not be short, but in the end it will lead to a well-deserved reward. The Knight of Pentacles card warns of the danger of stopping, or conversely, of rushing. To reach a new peak, you need to study and work even harder, and gain practical experience. Now is the best time to realize all the possibilities and talents of the seeker. If you take on a task that is too small or too large, there is a high risk of failure.

🔹 Reflection prompt:

“Am I respecting my natural pace—or trying to push or shrink myself to fit someone else’s timeline?” "What do I want to achieve?"

This card tells you: your efforts matter, even when no one sees them. The road may be long—but if it’s aligned with your truth, it will be worth every step. You need to find a middle way and avoid going to extremes. In this sense, the card symbolizes a confident movement toward high goals.

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash Photo by Jessica Smith on Unsplash Photo by Dave Ruck on Unsplash

[johns-walker]

change (pt. 2)

john walker/f!reader

one small mission for val changes the course of your life, and your relationship with john

cw THUNDERBOLTS SPOILERS, injuries, mentions of trauma, shame rooms, death/murder, and mental health but also FLUFF!! I PROMISE!! | wc 4.7k

so as i promised i have returned! i meant to post this at a reasonable time and not 3:30am but here we are. if you know me on ao3 you know this is supposed to be four parts and the next part is lowkey just smut ngl. but anyway! please enjoy. i love you and i love wyatt russell defenders :)

The aching new bruise on your shoulder and the constant sound of desert bugs in your ears were the only concrete pieces of evidence that you had to substantiate that what you were experiencing was real, and not some messed up dream that you had after getting knocked out cold during a job. 

It was one thing to be assigned to do a job by yourself - in fact, it was something that you did often. It was true that Val would assign you to work with one other person, and that said person was always the same. But a lot of the time, you were working on something relatively simple, by yourself. But to be assigned a job, and run into the person who you often collaborated with, only to find out that you had both been there separately under the expectation that you would take part in a group slaughtering event was something that you weren’t sure you could wrap your head around even now, about two hours after it had happened. 

As far as you were concerned, there was an individual who had phasing abilities who you were sent after. You were informed that another agent was also looking for this individual, but that it was imperative that you were sent separately. You had arrived shortly after Taskmaster had, only to find that John was also there - and that he was sent to kill the other agent who was sent to kill Ghost, who you were sent to kill. Ghost killed Taskmaster, some guy named Bob showed up, got shot, and flew into the sky, and made your stolen Humvee crash off of the side of a cliff, and now here you were. 

There was a bit more to it, of course. But you didn’t want to think about some of the more painful aspects of the entire thing. The prospect of being burned alive by the person who employed you certainly wasn’t a pleasant thing to think about, and then there were the personal things that bothered you about everything. John, who you thought had been making at least some sort of decent progress toward moving past the people and situations that haunted him, had begun and was now perpetuating the lie that he was going to go home from this to a loving wife and child. But you knew that wasn’t the truth, and you had hoped that he had at least made some sort of progress toward moving on from that. 

Granted, you knew as well that he was still having trouble processing it simply because he knew it was his fault - or, you figured that he knew it was his fault at this point. He seemed to blame himself, and you knew that he needed to because it was something that he caused. But, he couldn’t seem to blame himself for long enough to move past it. It felt wrong judging his coping mechanisms, but lying and hoping that you would just go along with it was something that irritated you to your core.

There was more selfish reasons behind you not liking it, too. You hated hearing about it, about the fake life that he was making everyone think that he lived. It made your closeness look strange, it made you look like a worse person than you knew that you already are. You knew he wasn’t married, so when you checked in on him and let him put his hands on your face to look at your bruised cheek and cut up lip, you knew that you weren’t doing anything wrong - hell, you weren’t even doing anything inherently romantic since you hadn’t put a label on anything you two got up to. But, to the others, it looked like you were strangely close with a married man, and it was obvious that you looked at him in a way that would be inappropriate if he was married. 

But John didn’t know about your feelings toward him, as far as you were aware. So how could you possibly blame him for not being considerate about something that you hadn’t even bothered to tell him about? You figured that you couldn’t, so you tried your best to keep yourself from taking it out on him. Especially since you really needed to conserve that energy, considering the fact that stopping was something that you had no ability to do at this point. You all needed to get out of this desert. Val was destined to find you at some point, and you couldn’t stop moving even for a second if you wanted to prevent that. 

“You still good?” 

Your eyes moved from the ground to the man beside you, taking note of the small distance between the two of you and the two women that you were traveling with. 

“I’m fine.” You responded, though you were missing your bed and wished that you were anywhere but here, you were fine. Physically, you were going to make it through this, even if you weren’t going to have the best time trying to do so. “Are you good?” 

There were a few questions in what you were asking him. You were curious about his physical form, obviously, but he was a super soldier and could take a punch – and massive fall – a lot better than most people could. But you knew that he was going through something. Whatever happened to him after he touched Bob’s hand had clearly rattled him, you’d seen the way that his feet were inching towards the edge, and you knew that if he fell, something would kill him. If it wasn’t the fall, it would be the fact that there was no reliable way for anyone to get him out of there. It looked like he wanted to die, and that was enough to deeply concern you. 

“I’ll be fine.” Was his response, and though you weren’t sure if you exactly believed him, you highly doubted that he had any interest in elaborating on his feelings in front of two other people. 

With a sigh, you let your hand reach out toward him. His fingers within your own sent a bit of relief through you, though you hated that a little bit. You hated that it relieved you to touch him, that it made everything seem just a little bit more okay when you had him close. But you also liked that he was someone who you could turn to when you needed it – even though he was also the only person who you could turn to when you needed it. 

That was the thing about the deathtrap, though. Every single one of you were, in some capacity, sort of bad people. You killed people, you did bad things from time to time, and you were all quite miserable and rather lonely. Each and every person you had spoken to for more than a second seemed to have the same rather empty look behind their eyes. Each of you wanted some sort of clean slate, as promised by Valentina when the clean slate was really just killing you all. But none of you got what you were promised, because you were never supposed to even survive. 

You had John, but you had nobody else. When you went home from a job, you went home to a few dead plants and ended up hanging out with him an hour later anyway. You practically lived together at this point, though neither of you were willing to admit to each other that you had gotten that close. You weren’t sure when the physical affection stopped being something that you only showed to each other in the confines of an after-mission ritual, and started being something that you showed to each other on a day-to-day basis. Holding hands wasn’t knew, hugging, holding each other – they were all things that you were used to, at this point. 

Even so, you still had this emptiness in you. You wanted something more, and you weren’t sure that you could ever have it. You would never tell John how you felt about him, not until you had any sort of confirmation or idea that he was ready to move past his divorce. You had yet to receive that confirmation, so telling him was something that remained off the table. Even so, he was the only person you really had who you trusted, the only person who you ever confided in. He was the only person who was really in your life, and you found yourself simply grateful that you had someone to turn to when things got rough. 

“How did you two meet?” Yelena asked, finally allowing you to take note that the two of you had caught up to the others at some point. “You seem close.” 

“Work.” You responded, simply. It was the truth, you met him through work. You wanted to say more, you wanted to elaborate on the fact that you don’t hold hands with married men all the time, but you didn’t want to embarrass him. As far as she and Ava were concerned, he was a married man, and you didn’t want to be the one to end his facade, even if it deeply, deeply annoyed your mind to think about it. “We usually work together.” 

“You assigned jobs with other people?” Yelena asked, her eyebrows furrowing. You wondered how long she had been working for Val, how many jobs she had to do by herself. You often disliked doing jobs alone because it felt isolating, because one of the few people who you trusted and seemed to trust you was John.

“Only him.” 

John nodded in agreement, signifying that he also hadn’t been assigned another work partner. But that was really where the conversation ended, despite your remaining closeness with the man beside you. Your fingers remained intertwined with his, even when you got tired – more so, especially when you got tired. It made you more comfortable to remember that he was there with you, that your close friend was going through the exact same thing that you were.

Though, as you continued your expedition throughout the desert, you couldn’t help but wonder why Val had even thought it would be a good job to put the two of you on the same mission. Did she have no other way to kill you without leaving a trace? She knew that the two of you worked well together, which led you to wonder if she simply had such little faith in him that she believed he would’ve been dead before you even showed up. Or, maybe she had little faith in the rest of the people she assigned to do this, believing that you two working together wouldn’t mean that either of you escaped being burned alive. Just the thought of the fate that you escaped had you shaking your head, but you pushed those thoughts away. It would be a long night if any of you lingered on the events of it in your minds, and it was bad enough that it would be a horrid night regardless. 

At the very least, you were reminded that it got quite cold in the desert late at night halfway through it. It felt like a reprieve from the scorching heat that had been lingering from early on in the night. But as the sun started to rise after hours of walking, you knew that you were going to have to start going faster. Val had eyes everywhere, and while you could disappear into a populated area without detection, the four of you were sticking out like four insanely-sized thumbs in the empty desert with no other people in it for miles. 

At least, you thought there were no other people in it. 

The sound of a car that seemed to be coming right to you had you all ducking for cover, but it became increasingly clear (from the man who emerged from the car and what he was yelling about) that this man was someone who knew Yelena; that he wasn’t a threat even though she seemed horribly embarrassed by his antics. 

By the time that you were actually in the car, everything else begun to feel like a blur. One moment you were listening to what sounded like a both deeply personal and deeply unserious conversation that was happening in the front seat, and the next moment you were being shot at, seemingly being saved by Bucky, and then ultimately also being shot at by Bucky. 

It wasn’t until you were cuffed and sitting beside John that you actually had a moment to process what was happening. A currently sitting Congressman was threatening you to testify, a Congressman who you – if you weren’t mistaken – had met before. It wasn’t until he spoke up about John’s little lie that you finally made eye contact with him. You had met him before, briefly. They weren’t friends, but him and John had kept in contact. Bucky checked in very briefly after he found out that Olivia left, and you… well, you were honestly relieved that the others knew.

A part of that relief was selfish. You were glad that people didn’t think that you were somewhat flirting with your friend who you, theoretically, would know was in a relationship if he still was. But you were also relieved for reasons that benefited John. For a good long while, you’ve been the only real friend that he’s had, just like he’s been the only real friend that you’ve had. Pushing people away was what made his relationship end in the first place, and lying to the people he’s just met because he’s ashamed of his past isn’t ever going to help him recover from it. 

As much as you wanted to unpack that with him, to make sure that he was doing okay even though everyone now knew the truth about him and his former marriage, there was no real time for that. Bob was still out there, and apparently he was being manipulated and used by Val. The Sentry Project, whatever Val wanted out of it, it was clearly the reason for Bob being able to survive being shot at well-over a hundred times and then quite literally fly away, even if he came crashing back down just moments later. 

He was a good person, but he was a deeply wounded person who was now being manipulated by the same person who had manipulated everyone in this room in one way or another. Everyone except for Bucky, who had seemingly been privy to her misdeeds for far longer than the rest of you had. You all knew that you needed to do something, Bob needed help, and for once in your lives, you all needed to do something that mattered for someone else. 

It was unfamiliar. Unfamiliar to all of you. But you knew it was the right thing, for Bob and for whoever Val might use him and her manipulation of him to hurt. 

The journey to Manhattan in the back of the truck felt lighter than the prior journey, because you all knew what your purpose was here. There was no apprehension about doing the right thing and helping Bob, there was no underlying motivation to get as far away from all of the new people you had just met as quickly as possible because that was what you were simply used to doing. And there was no need for you to shy away from how close you sat to John, even though that last part raised a lot of questions in your mind that you didn’t feel like you had enough time to answer. 

Of course, you knew that you had feelings for him, and you knew that these feelings for him had started long before this one particular day when everything seemed to be shaking up in your life. But you also didn’t know how to deal with that before other than just not acting on it. John hadn’t chosen to be forthright about his divorce, but he didn’t shy away from it or talk back when Bucky said something. There was an acceptance on his face, a defeated expression. He seemed not welcoming to the fact that he was divorced, but no longer surprised by it, either. 

Through and through, your promise to yourself had been for him to be the first one to make a move because he was the one that was struggling emotionally and he was the one that needed to decide when the time was right. But you also knew that you acted like a couple a lot of the time. You shared beds, and held hands, and spent almost all of your time with each other even when you weren’t working. But when you were working, it shifted that bond. Because when you were doing dangerous jobs, you needed to remind yourselves that you trusted each other with your lives. 

That reminder, that trust, was something that you didn’t realize you were going to need until you did. 

Rescuing Bob was one thing, knowing that Val could be a master manipulator was another. But you weren’t fully prepared for what you saw. In what little time she had to mold him, to make him into a puppet and feed into the issues that he struggled with in his mind, but fighting him was something entirely different. It felt like they’d all failed when they walked away, utterly defeated. Val had somehow won, and she had been able to take the person they were all there to save with her. She felt wrong about it as she followed the rest of the team down the elevator, because she knew firsthand – like they all did – that Val would disregard him and try to get him killed the moment she decided that she didn’t need him anymore, or the moment she decided that he was some kind of a liability to her political career and the power that she had been able to obtain from it. 

Everything happened so quickly, one moment Yelena was insulting everyone and running off – only to be followed by Alexei. Meanwhile, the rest of you lingered. Nobody really said anything, nobody knew what to say. You hated what she had said to John, but you also knew that she didn’t mean it, because she was hurt. Because for once, you had all tried to do something meaningful and important and she failed, you failed, every single one of you had failed. Because you weren’t superheroes, and only one of you had any real superpower, and what could you even do? 

Hope and pray that one of Bucky’s super-powered friends would come and save the day? It didn’t feel like there was any real option here, and you were almost ready to start walking home in defeat, counting your lucky stars that you had at least evaded being burned alive, a mile deep into the ground just so one woman can cover her tracks. But things were never that simple, and before you could even think of proposing the idea of leaving to anyone, a helicopter came crashing down from the sky. Bob. It was his silhouette, but he was entirely consumed by darkness. His eyes seemed to be glowing, but the rest of him was a black shadow. 

The thoughts looming in the forefront of your mind took the backburner as you ran off to help someone who was about to be hit by the weight of debris, grabbing the young woman who was barely aware of the piece of an engine coming straight for her until she was out of it’s path. Everything seemed utterly chaotic, people running and not knowing where they could go or what they could do. You felt like you were acting on instinct as you joined the others, helping to keep the piece of concrete from falling until it toppled over to the other side. And just as quickly as you all came to realize that you’d stopped a crisis, another one began. 

From up above, Bob – or, rather, The Sentry in this form – was turning the people on the ground into shadow’s by the moment, and the only thing that any of you could do was get people out of his path. At least, it was the only thing that most of you thought to do, most of you except for Yelena. Yelena walked face-first into it. 

As much as you wanted to imagine that she was insane, that she was doing something utterly insane and choosing to die for reasons that you couldn’t quite grasp, you knew that wasn’t the case. You had known from the very beginning that John had seen something when he touched Bob’s hand, but you weren’t quite sure what it was. It seemed to be your only hope that, in some twist of fate, if you walked into the darkness you would be able to do something to stop this, something to bring him out of this form that he was in. 

Stepping out from the small roof that kept you safe, you turned to face John. Your closest friend, the one person who you seemed to care about more than anyone else – the only person who you figured really cared about you, at this point. His hand stretched out to yours, and you took it. Your fingers wrapped around his as you made the decision to do the only thing that you had any hope could fix this. From what he said, this wasn’t going to be a pleasant experience, but if it was the only way, you would just have to endure it. 

The moment you stepped into the shadows, you found your hand empty. No John beside you, nothing except for a familiar sound, a memory. 

Turning your head, your felt your breath hitch in your throat at the sight of the person in front of you. Your best friend. The person who you had met in middle school, and went to college with. The person who was there for you when you went through anything good and anything bad. Until this day. You wanted to reach out, to stop the younger version of you from pulling the gun from her bag, but you couldn’t stop what was happening. 

It was the first time you’d ever killed anyone, the worst day of your life. An assignment. Of course, your close friend had to be someone who was working against the agency you were working for – the agency you would later come to know was headed by Val – and she just happened to be your first real assignment, the first real test to see if you were capable of doing this job. 

Room after room seemingly just became more and more traumatic, but in the end, you found yourself being smacked in the face by a flying blanket. It wasn’t your blanket, though. You were in an attic, but it wasn’t your attic, and you were no longer going through rooms of your past traumas by yourself, reliving every single moment that you had wished you were able to forget. 

There was no real time to focus on that, though. You were all quickly entering another room, and just as quickly being pinned against a wall to stop you from fighting back against the dark version of Bob that seemed to be taking his physical form hostage – his Void. The darkness in his mind that threatened to consume him whole. 

Fighting it almost seemed like the correct, natural, response for a moment. But it became clear to you, as Bob himself became consumed more and more each passing moment by the darkness, that he couldn’t do it this way. Fighting himself, allowing himself to hate his own mind and feed into the darkness, it was what it wanted. One by one, you were able to break free and help him. To remind him that he didn’t have to do this alone, that you were all here to free him from what he was being subjected to. And when it worked, when you found yourselves back in the streets of New York, the darkness that had begun consuming the city was beginning to fade away. 

But there was Val, shameless as ever and seemingly pulling you all into another one of her traps as she walked past the curtain. You were inundated with lights, cameras, and reporters as you crossed the threshold of the white curtain that you had walked through. Your eyebrows knitted together as you listened to her, as you pieced together what was happening. You knew that this mean that Bucky wouldn’t get to testify against her, that in the end she got what she wanted and was now entirely unimpeachable. But, it also meant that you had power. You had power over her, and you didn’t have to worry about her subjecting any of you to missions that you weren’t comfortable with. 

Once you were able to leave the impromptu press conference, you found yourself ushered into a black SUV with John, your eyes darting away from the floor as you felt his hand on your cheek. “You got a pretty bad bruise, you know.” 

You brought your hand up to where he was touching, right below your eye. You honestly weren’t sure when, in the heat of the moment, you had gotten bruised. 

“You’re pretty cut up yourself.” You responded, though your voice was softer than you intended it to be. You really didn’t know what this meant for you. You knew that you liked the feeling of his hand on your cheek, though. And you also knew that you really didn’t want to have any sort of discussion about what it meant to be a New Avenger until after you got to sleep a little bit. 

John was seemingly debating something in his mind for a good couple of minutes before he cleared his throat, a small smile covering his lips. “Would it be too forward of me to kiss you?” 

For a moment, you were certain that you must’ve gotten hit too hard in the head at some point, but this was very much real, and he was very much asking for permission to kiss you. And every apprehension that you ever had be damned – if he was asking, then you were ready for it. “Not too forward at all.” 

With the permission he needed, he leaned forward and captured your lips within his. It was soft, delicate, careful not to hurt the small cut that you had sustained on your bottom lip at some point. But you let your hand press on his face as well, keeping him there and running your thumb over his skin. Regardless of what all of these new developments and new changes meant, you were happy. Happy to feel in control of your own life, happy to be able to kiss the one person who you seemingly could never stop thinking about kissing. 

There were a lot of things that you would need to discuss later, but for now, you were happy to sit comfortably in the backseat of this car, gently almost-making out with your best friend. Though, you would be remiss if you didn’t get one little honest opinion in there.

“John?” 

“Hmm?” He seemed almost dazed as he unwillingly pulled slightly away from you, a smile covering your lips as he tried to chase the kiss. 

“Since you were asking about it earlier, I kinda hate your hat.” 

He seemed stunned for a moment, almost offended even though there was a smile fighting it’s way onto his face. “No…”

“It’s not flattering, people deserve to see your pretty face.” You nodded, brushing your fingers through his hair. “You can still have a hat, just like… a better one.” 

He didn’t stop himself from smiling now, even as he shook his head in faux-disbelief that you would dare say something bad about the helmet that he had been wearing. But you didn’t let him respond as you kissed him again, letting his hand rest on the back of your neck as he held you close. For the first time in a while, you felt genuinely happy – and strangely beyond glad for all of the change and near-death-experiences that you had been forced to live through if this was to be the end result of it all.

[holidayinhell]

Do you have any advice for someone who wants to start writing and posting whump stories?

1- start a sideblog dedicated to your creations. for me, the separation really helps me feel more expressive. it's impossible to share the stories you love to write if you feel any kind of shame when you publish it. be confident!

2- read a lot.

3- write a lot. but more importantly, challenge yourself to finish what you write. this is the hardest thing to do!

if you're someone that has a million and a half ideas, record them as bullet points. try to resist the temptation of fleshing things out until you've already finished some of your WIPs. it takes discipline.

4- stay organized. make separate folders for your inspiration, drafts, and completed works. I also separate my folders out by genre, ex: Captivity Whump, Failed Escape Whump, Prompt Ideas, Published Work, etc.

it helps. trust me.

5- take inspiration from EVERYTHING, from the things you read to the things that you experience in real life. sometimes I'll overhear a snippet of a conversation, "There's no water or anything." , "Think about everything I've just said. Think about it." , "Why didn't you call 911?!" -- you can transform mundane, random lines into some spicyyyyy stuff and build entire stories around it.

be observant in real life and bring it back to your story. take notes when inspiration strikes! and when you're writing make sure you use descriptive language that helps you build a gorgeous visual. verbs matter, too. it's definitely worth the time to figure out what verb best conveys the actions you're trying to illustrate.

so yeah, this has been my lil recipe for success thus far :~)

hope it helps in any way. happy writing!

[outlying-hyppocrate]

why is everyone telling people on the internet to kill themselves because of fictional characters fucking or whatever. there are worse things going on in the world actually.

[phinnking]

i know a lot of people like to make fun of young queer people who use a bunch of microlabels and engage in niche or "cringe" aesthetics but im gonna be so honest, i love them so much. i 100% was that kid and while now i don't really use or think about any of the labels i used back then, that doesn't make that time any less valuable and valid (and it doesn't make someone less valid if they do keep using that terminology into their adult life!). queer kids who are figuring themselves out and are learning about new fun words for genders and pronouns and sexualities deserve to run wild and be loud and happy and not carry and be impacted by the shame that many of us have been taught to hold.

my cousin is a year younger than how old i was when i first realized i was queer and they've vaguely known they were queer for a couple years now. personally, i think that's pretty awesome. recently they've gotten into the very stereotypical scene kid aesthetic and i make a point to compliment them on it every time i see them. almost every time i see them they have a new adjustment as to how they view their gender/sexuality and i always tell them that that's really cool and i give them a hug. recently they told me they have a boyfriend and listed like 3 separate labels as to how he defines his gender and i asked them if i was remembering the definitions of all those words correctly (which i was because, like i said, i was that kid lol).

it's just all these small things that seem so trivial or "weird/cringe" that so many people look down on queer kids for engaging in and i'll never understand it. i think it is so unbelievably cool that these people are figuring themselves out and finding new terms and identities and things that they can be and they're just so excited by it. being excited by queerness is cool! wanting to engage in niche subcultures is cool! allowing yourself to be who you are in that moment without the worrying guilt of having to get it "right" is wonderful and awesome and cool and how it should be!! please do not teach the queer kids to be ashamed of themselves in a time where they should be able to run wild and figure out their identities in a way that truly makes them happy!!!!

[vaguely-concerned]

few things bring me as much joy as my rook's expressive capacity for sudden withering disdain. (he's looking at illario here, of course lmao.) he's so hey i'm just a little guy...🥺 coded most of the time and then someone says something dumb enough that the mask cracks for a moment and every line of him says 'that is the stupidest fucking thing anyone has ever said to me and I'm aggrieved to even have had to hear it'. rye is mostly very kind but there IS a bastard lurking in his head waiting to be let out as well. not just solas but solas too I suppose. two bastards in rye ingellvar's head they keep each other company and are trying to strangle each other as we speak 😌.

(vs. him looking over at lucanis a moment later during the same line delivery. since lucanis was actively into viago once I cannot imagine that getting to watch rye crack and be kind of mean to people who've earned it when too sorely tried is like. entirely without allure to him fhskjadf. witnessing illario pulling the old ingratiating 'rooook reason with him would you~ I'm the cousin with the charisma stats' routine and This being rook's response probably opened some as of yet ill-understood '...I think I hauve covid' corners of lucanis' soul. tfw your buddy has your back so completely (dawning erotic implications))

[nabaath-areng]

the problem with my n24 is that with the clock going around gradually i have periods of being awake at day and periods of being awake at night, but then because i tend to sleep really badly during night time i spend my daytime days being very tired and sluggish, and my nighttime days are much more productive and energetic. but i cant do just anything i want at night, so i cant get as much done as i have the energy and drive to. and then i also need sunlight to feel sane in the head, and so i hate missing out on daytime wakefulness. but then the sun is also why my sleep quality is much better during daytime. if im gonna stuck with a seemingly incurable sleep disorder since birth cant i at LEAST have the sleep be overall consistent? apparently not lmao