#look at Curt 🥺

[ghost-train-to-strawberry-fields]

Day 20 of posting random Tears for Fears photos

[meyerlansky]

uh, i wanted to call you. thank you, bucky—both of you. saving our asses. i mean it.

[lesbianclaryfray]

very admirable tbh how much of an “i can fix him” gay curt ISN’T. he saw he couldn’t get through to the fucked up man within 5 minutes and was like ok *pulls trigger*

[r0ugesun]

Hi I was wondering if i could request (pure smut) of Aemond going to the brothel to meet Sylvie and instead finding reader and continuously going back just to see the reader instead and then maybe when Aegon finds out and starts mocking him, reader defends Aemond and Aemond just walks away as if reader meant nothing to him even though he was inlove with reader?

Pls and thank you 🥺

Thank you so much for requesting forgive the delay I kept re writing to make sure it was what you wanted I hope you enjoy it <3

Aemond Targaryen x Brothel! Reader

Synopsis: Prince Aemond Targaryen seeks solace at the House of Kisses and encounters you, a captivating courtesan. A night of intense passion reveals his hidden vulnerabilities, leaving both of you grappling with unspoken desires and the lasting impact of your brief, powerful connection.

Aemond strode through the Silk Streets, his boots thudding rhythmically against the cobblestones, a steady thump echoing in the narrow alleys, his destination clear in his mind. The brothel was not a place he frequented often, but tonight was different. He had arranged to meet Sylvie, the madam, for an escape from the burdens that weighed heavily on his shoulders.

He entered the dimly lit corridors of the House of Kisses, his long cloak trailing behind him. The upscale brothel was a place of sinful indulgences and hidden desires, a sanctuary for those seeking pleasure in the arms of another. He had come to see Sylvie, the madam, for reasons he barely understood himself.

"Prince aemond" Sylvie purred as she approached him, her hips swaying provocatively.

“Come, I have something….special prepared for you."

as he entered the private chambers, he found not himself and the sultry proprietress alone, but you a young woman draped in silk, your eyes gleaming with a mixture of curiosity and confidence.

"Prince Aemond," you purred, reclining on the plush cushions with a grace that spoke of practiced allure. "Sylvie told me you might be in need of something… different. I know it’s not to your usual likings but I assure you, I can be of great service to you."

Aemond paused, his icy gaze sweeping over you. There was something different about you, something that stirred a flicker of interest within him. He had meant to leave, to dismiss you with a curt word, but found himself rooted to the spot.

"You are not what I expected" he said, his voice cold and measured. Sylvie only smirked and looked between you two.

"Disappointed?" you asked, a sensual smile playing on your lips as you rose to your feet, the silks clinging to your curves in a tantalizing display.

"Intrigued" he admitted, the word slipping out before he could stop it.

“I’ll leave leave him in your care then y/n, do tend to him properly”

You moved closer, your steps deliberate and confident. "Then stay a while, My Prince. Let me show you that there's more to life than duty and discipline."

"And what might that be?" he inquired, a skeptical eyebrow arching.

"Pleasure" you replied simply, your voice a seductive whisper. "A man like you needs more than just sex, I can do so much more."

Aemond's gaze lingered on you, the warmth of your proximity sending an unexpected shiver down his spine. "You speak as if you know me."

"I know enough" you said, your fingers lightly brushing against his arm. "Enough to see a prince burdened by expectations, hiding behind a mask of indifference."

"And you think you can see through that mask?" he asked, his tone both challenging and curious.

"I can see the man beneath it" you replied confidently, your eyes meeting his with unwavering intensity. "A man who craves more than what‘s been given to him, what he thinks he’s been denied."

"You're bold" he remarked, though there was no disdain in his voice.

"You appreciate boldness" you countered, your lips curving into a playful smile. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be here."

Aemond couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Perhaps you're right."

"Let me show you how right I am," you said, stepping even closer, your breath warm against his skin. "Trust me, My prince. I can show you exactly what you need."

He hesitated, a war of thoughts playing out behind his eyes. But the allure of your confidence and the promise of something more something he had denied himself for so long proved too enticing to resist.

"Very well" he agreed, his voice softening.

You took his hand, guiding him to the plush seating area. "Tell me, Aemond," you began, your fingers deftly unfastening his cloak, "when was the last time you let yourself lose control?"

He watched you, captivated by your every movement. "It has been... a long time."

"Then let tonight be different" you whispered, your lips grazing his ear. "Let go of all your burdens and lets lose ourselves, together."

"And what makes you think I can do that?" he asked, his voice low, almost teasing.

"Because, deep down, you know you want to" you replied, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Why else would you be here? So, tell me, my prince, what do you fear more: losing power or never gaining it?"

He regarded you with a mixture of admiration and wariness. "You play a dangerous game."

"Mm I do love to play" you said biting your lower lip. "And I believe you are a more than willing participant."

"You presume much," he said, though his tone lacked any real reproach.

"Do I?" you challenged, running a finger down his chest. "Or perhaps I'm just giving voice to what you already know to be true."

"indeed?" Aemond, catching your hand and holding it gently. "But there is more to me than you might think."

"And more to me than meets the eye." you replied with a smile. “Let’s unveil those layers together.”

You guided him to the bed, sitting him down, the silken sheets cool against his skin. As you began to unbutton his shirt, he caught your wrist, holding it firmly but gently. “Sylvie brought you for me….but you’re unlike all the others around here…” he murmured, his gaze intense.

"And you are unlike any man I usually service" you replied, leaning closer, your lips a breath away from his. “Let’s find out what occurs when two contrasting worlds collide.”

Aemond's breath hitched as you kissed him, the sensation a mix of softness and fire. He responded in kind, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you to straddle his lap. The kiss deepened, becoming a dance of tongues and lips, each trying to outdo the other in passion and intensity.

You pulled back slightly, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered softly, "Tell me, my prince, what can I give you? What do you desire?."

"You," he breathed, the word escaping his lips before he could stop it. "All of you."

"Then take me" you urged, your voice low and enticing. "Take what you think you deserve."

He needed no further encouragement, his hands moving to your bare back, peeling away what little cloth covered you to reveal the smooth, warm skin beneath. You moaned softly as his lips found your neck, his hands exploring every inch of you.

Aemond groaned when his lithe fingers found his way to your cunt, feeling your warmth and wetness. His touch was both gentle and demanding, sending shivers through your body. You gasped, arching into his hand, your own fingers digging into his shoulders as he teased and caressed you.

His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, "such a wet cunt"

You rolled your hips on his fingers gasping, most men never bothered with your pleasure and if they did they were clumsy and left you unsatisfied, this was different, he was different.

A smile curled on your lips as you gazed darkly into his eye, “your fingers are skilled” you whispered teasingly. “But it’s not your fingers I truly ache for”

You shifted, pushing him back against the bed, stripping him of his clothes, your movements slow and deliberate. Aemonds eye widened and his lips parting slightly at the sight of you, he watched with a mix of lust and fascination as you undid the laces of his small clothes, freeing his throbbing cock.

Your hands caressed his chest soothingly, your nails scraping lightly over his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Look at you...you resemble a marble statue come to life, like a god in human flesh” you said in awe.

Aemond’s breath caught in his throat, and for a moment he looked almost vulnerable.

“They say Targaryens are closer to gods than men” you whispered.

“And what do you think?” His voice coming out more gentle than he intended.

“I think-” you guided his hands to your hips, you spread your knees further apart until your entrance was right above his cock. “If the gods truly look as divine as you, I’d spend my life begging for a glimpse of their glory”

Aemond groaned when you slowly lowered yourself onto him, moaning as you did, inch by inch, savoring his length and girth until you finally reached the base, you both sighed in pleasure.

You leaned forward until your lips almost grazed his “Tell me My Prince, are you going to take what’s rightfully yours?”

He groaned, gripping your hips tightly “yes, that and so much more”

Your lips curved into a smile, leaning back once again, you sat on the heels of your feet and began bouncing on his cock “A-ah fuck” he rasped out, the pleasure of your tight cunt overwhelming him. “Fuck just like that” he hissed.

You couldn’t help the moans that escaped your lips at the feeling of his throbbing cock inside of you, unlike the rehearsed moans you usually make for gold, this was no act. The thick head of his cock dragged deliciously against that sweet spot inside you.

“so big, feels so good inside of me my prince” you whimpered.

Aemonds moans grew louder, his hands gripping your hips even tighter as he tried to match your rhythm, the lewd sound of wet skin slapping against each other echoed around the room.

“You and this little wet cunt” he hissed, his voice dripping with lust. Catching you by surprise In one swift motion, flipped you over on your back, he lifted your thighs up and positioned you into a mating press.

His hips pistoning his cock into your cunt with a fervent urgency, each thrust stretching you to the fullest.

Aemonds breathes where heavy and ragged, his eye locked onto yours as if looking for a sign of feigned satisfaction. “Tell me” he demanded in between labored breaths, “tell me how much you want this”

You arched your back, meeting his thrusts with just as much desperation, with a wicked smile you moaned out “I want to feel your cock inside me all night, my prince, I’d even beg if it wasn’t so beneath me”

He growled, your little act of defiance sending pleasure straight to his cock head “what if I told you I could make you beg?” He teased.

“It’s usually the other way around for me, my prince” biting your lips as his thrusts grew harder. “But i would be more than happy to let you believe I would if you keep this up”

Aemonds eyes darkened with pure desire “you need not say anything your body is all the praise i need”

Your moans grew louder, you could feel your cunt clenching around his cock “I’m so fucking close” he said voice rough, all you could do is moan in response.

With a final, breathless cry, you reached your climax, the intense waves of pleasure crashing over you and pulling Aemond with you. His release followed moments later, his body shuddering as he came inside you, his grip loosening as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensation.

You both lay there, your labored breaths and chests heaving in unison. The room was filled with the afterglow of your passion, the once frantic rhythm now replaced by the slow, steady cadence of both your breaths.

Aemond's hand gently stroked your side, his touch tender and reassuring.

You turned your head to meet his gaze, a satisfied smile on your lips.

"That was quite the experience," you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of playful satisfaction.

Aemond's eye, still heavy with the remnants of his desire, softened as he looked at you.

his voice was low and filled with admiration. "I don't think I've ever felt like this before."

You traced a finger along his jawline, your touch light and teasing.

"You’re not what I was expecting when the madam told me about you" you replied with a smirk "but I’m not complaining."

He chuckled, his breath still uneven but his expression relaxed, pulling you closer. “I suppose I should take that as a compliment.”

“You’d be wise to,” you said, tracing your fingers lightly over his chest. “I’m usually not this generous.”

Aemond’s gaze softened, and he regarded you with a mix of amusement and admiration. “And here I thought I’d be lucky to impress you.”

“Oh, you’ve definitely impressed me,” you said, leaning in to kiss him softly. “Just remember, next time you might have to work a little harder to keep up.”

He smiled, his hand gently caressing your back. “That’s a challenge I’m looking forward to” he said with a grin.

Each night after that was a blur of passion and desire, each touch and kiss pushing you both to the edge and beyond. Aemond had never felt so alive, so free from the constraints of royal duty and expectation. With you, he could be himself, and that was a gift beyond measure.

As dawn approached, you lay entwined in each other's arms, the room filled with the scent of sex and sweat. Aemond traced patterns on your back with his fingertips, his mind awhirl with thoughts and emotions he had long suppressed.

"Why do you do this?" he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the comfortable silence.

"Do what?" you asked, your head resting on his chest.

"Live this life," he clarified. "A life where you give so much of yourself to others."

You sighed softly, your breath warm against his skin. "It’s not a life I chose for myself willingly. It’s hard But in giving, I also receive. I have bread and a roof over my head and I even have my fill of baubles and trinkets, that’s more than a women like me deserves.

"I think you are deserving of more than you realize" he remarked, a hint of tenderness in his tone.

"And you are kinder than you appear," you replied, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "There is much more to you, Aemond. More than you let on"

"And you think you understand me?" Aemond finished, his voice tinged with curiosity and vulnerability.

"I understand enough," you replied, your fingers tracing the scar over his sapphire eye. "Enough to see the man behind the mask."

From that night onward, Aemond found himself returning to the House of Kisses more often than he cared to admit. Each time, it was you who greeted him, your witty banter and sensual touch breaking through the walls he had built around his heart.

One evening, as you lay tangled in the sheets, your fingers tracing the lines of his face, Aegon burst into the room startling you both, he was reeking of wine. "Little brother," he slurred, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "You've become quite the regular here. ‘S unusual for you to indulge in another whore." He laughed crudely

“Did you tire of the hags old cunt, is that it??

Aemond's jaw tightened, but before he could respond, you sat up, your eyes flashing with defiance. "Prince Aegon," you said voice steady,

“If you’ve come to belittle and provoke, you’re not going to find what you’re looking for”

Aegon laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. "Defending him, are you? How sweet. But tell me, does he care for you as much as you care for him?"

Aemond stood, his expression a mask of indifference.

Aegon chuckled, his eyes filled with malice. "Don’t tell me that my dear brother has fallen for a common whore" he doubled over laughing.

Your temper flared, and you sprang from the bed, standing between the two brothers

“Aemond doesn’t come here to entertain your drunken taunts.”

Aegon raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Touchy, aren't we? Tell me, how much coin does he pay you for your loyalty?"

You stepped closer to Aegon

"Enough, Now, leave this is a place of business." You said through gritted teeth.

“You’re right brother I shouldn’t keep coming….ive strayed far from my duties”

Aegon looked between you and Aemond, his amusement gone and replaced with boredom, he sighed and walked out.

the room fell silent. You turned to Aemond, who had remained silent throughout the exchange. His face was now a icy mask of stoicism

“Aemond…” you began.

Aemond’s gaze was unwavering, his voice as cold as ever.

“This is not the place for personal entanglements. My position… they come first.”

The hurt in your chest was sharp and immediate, but you fought to maintain your composure. “I see,” you said, forcing yourself to sound calm. “I understand Prince Aemond.”

the sting of his rejection burning deeply. But you didn’t let it show. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself against the pain.

You’ve been at the mercy of men with fragile egos in the past. Never again. Not with him.

you saw Aegon’s squires entering the room, their eyes full of youthful curiosity and a hint of mischief.

With a practiced sultry smile, you approached them. “Gentlemen, I see you’ve come to visit, is it your first time? I’m more than willing to accommodate your needs.”

The squires, clearly taken by your beauty, looked at each other with a mix of nervousness and eagerness. You offered them your services with a grace that belied the pain you felt inside, focusing on your work and pushing the hurt to the back of your mind.

“Prince Aemond, if our business is concluded could you make your way out please?”

Aemond watched the interaction helplessly, the tension between you palpable. Then, without a word, Aemond walked away, his footsteps echoing down the corridor, leaving you with the bitter taste of unspoken and unresolved longing.

You had defended him, shown him your heart, and yet he had walked away, as if you meant nothing. But in your heart, you knew the truth. You had touched a part of him that he kept hidden from the world, and no matter how much he tried to deny it, he loved you.

[haveihitanerve]

ahhhhhhhh

[syneilesis]

[fic] if only for a moment

if only for a moment

Love and Deepspace | Rafayel (Qi Yu) x Main-Character!Reader | T | 3.6k words | ao3 link (with correct formatting)

Rafayel waits. And waits. And waits.

A/N: Another LaD fic!! This time it's Rafayel. Several elements of this fic are inspired by and loosely based on his story anecdotes and bond story, plus that Deep Sea card line backdrop. So more spoilers in this one, I'm afraid. I think you need to be aware of them in order to follow the flow of the fic. But if not, here's what you need to know: basically Rafayel accepts a visiting professorship at the University of Linkon to reunite with the MC/you. And the prose poetry interspersed are loosely situated in the Deep Sea card lineup setting (you can search in YouTube for the scenes. This one is a brief glimpse of the scene). That princess/knight(??) dynamic is yum yum.

If possible, please read the version on AO3. I formatted the prose poems there as if they're really prose poetry, so I'd appreciate it if you check that out. (Though there isn't too much difference between the formatting here and there, I did make the effort of coding a little 🥺)

Anyhoo, hope you enjoy, and I am sO STOKED FOR THE OFFICIAL RELEASE. rip my wallet 💸😭

JUST LOOK AT THIS MAN AND BELIEVE

There’s a type of berry in a distant land that produces a rare shade of ink that matches the color of your eyes. It takes a hundred of them to create the right hue and volume for the art that he wants to make. It comes to him in a dream: endless desert, then fireworks of verdant sparks that coalesce into stem, leaf, and, finally, fruit. Rafayel remembers that land, so much different from the iridescent blue of ocean underwater, and the acrid gold of the barren desert. His mouth filled with the succulent sweetness of the dream, the lingering sandpaper roughness of the berries on his fingers. He already knows the name of the artwork even before he’s begun—Waiting, Missing. The ache in his bones gaining form, an intangible thing taking flesh.

+

Under the ocean surface, time is muted, a deafening thickness that surrounds you with its ambiguity. On land, however, it is linear, and fast, and in a matter of blinks, Rafayel’s visiting professorship nearly wraps up.

He’s only glimpsed you once or twice. Thrice at most. The university is big, but not big enough to warrant a dearth of fateful encounters. The first time he saw you it was at a coffee shop: walking along with your friends outside, your voice mellifluous and festive wafting through the trellis of the café entrance. You were talking about him—well, about Lemuria to be specific, but these days any talk of Lemuria inevitably draws in his name.

He’s committed your schedule to memory, and yet it just seems impossible to capture a moment with you. Even just a brush of shoulders, or of sleeves—an asymptote of contact. Just navigating around your orbit, but never truly meeting.

What would it be like—finally talking to you? You in front of him, face to face? Rafayel imagines the ache of waiting fading into the background until it’s completely gone. He yearns for that feeling, the release of it. A conclusion—or maybe even a beginning.

+

i. take my hand, he told you under the glow of the lustrous moon, the only source of light that contoured the secretive valleys of his face. i want to show your highness something. there was a country, he said, beyond the undulating monochrome of the desert, blanketed by lush trees and shrubberies and flowers that buildings were made in betwixt and around them—a nation of trailing and winding architecture, a marriage of the natural and the manmade. you wanted to ask why he’d planned on taking you there, and the only answer you got was a curt turn of his head and the profile of a masked man layered by shadows and distance. it would have been nice, you thought, if the moon poured light upon his hooded gaze.

+

Eventually he begins to frequent the café. Twice a week at first—he doesn’t want to come off strong right away, of course—and then making his way up until he’s hanging out there more than his own studio. He schedules his visits around your classes, always during the ones when the probability of you dropping by the café is high and he can ‘coincidentally’ be around the same area. It’s gotten to a point that Thomas calls him out on it, and nags at him to focus more on his painting. The next exhibit is immediately after his visiting professorship after all.

“From where I’m standing,” Thomas says, “you’re not painting at all.”

Rafayel ignores him.

Five minutes later, he says, “Not painting is part of the painting process.”

Thomas rolls his eyes, but he leaves him to it.

At the café, Rafayel attracts curious looks. A few attempt to approach him, but he pretends not to see them. They linger around the periphery, like moths to flame.

And then something happens: the entrance door chimes, and you swan into the coffee shop, earphones and denim overall skirt, the kind of rosy-cheeked image Rafayel finds on teen magazines, wide-eyed and earnest. You fall in line and order when it’s your turn, and your eyes sweep across the packed café searching for a vacant seat until they finally land on him.

Rafayel’s heart stumbles.

Up close, the baby fat on your cheeks still gives you the appearance of being younger than you actually look. You turn a polite smile his way, and his heart stutters again—but this time it is taken as a warning.

“Hi,” you say, tentative. Any hint of recognition absent. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

+

ii. you're counting the steps of your inevitable parting. you're at the edge of the desert, far away from your home and its familiar scents, oriented towards a direction that promised a future sad memory, the gentle warmth of his hand, the downward denial of his gaze. this longing that grew out of your bones, aching during cold, aching during heat, aching when he looked at you with such tenderness he had to hide it through the sharp tug of your joined hands, the long strides that opened up a lonely distance. intimacy was dangerous, knowing was dangerous, the bowels of his heart like a solitary flower on a high peak. what would you do to such loneliness?

+

Memory isn't always an infallible thing. The human brain cannot hang on to every moment of your life, though Rafayel wishes it were so. But still—to think that you would forget him, and it hasn’t even been a century. You were like a phantom thief stealing his heart in the night—no recourse, no resolution.

To wait is to be in agony, the burn of yearning locked within the heart. Rafayel has been waiting for a long time, and the only memory scorched in his heart is fire, the blaze and its blinding, all-consuming want.

What would you do to such want?

+

You have a blurry childhood, Rafayel discovers. After the first Wanderer descended on Earth, the incident strummed your memories like a stringed instrument that tired of the same chord, over and over. It had bothered you at first—not being in control of your own memories—but eventually you had learned to live with it.

“Grandma and Caleb—my childhood friend—helped me through the process,” you tell him, stirring your iced mocha with its straw. “I owe them a lot.”

Eyes cast down, but still the melancholy shadows remain in your expression. Rafayel folds his arms on the table, and leans closer.

Around them only a few people occupy the coffee shop at this time. How fortunate for Rafayel to catch you during your break while every other student is trapped in class lectures.

“There’s no use in dwelling upon what's already happened. Even sharks have to give up when their prey escapes. When you remember, it will be all the more joyous, no?”

The smile you give him is crooked, disbelieving.

“If I remember.”

“You’ll remember.” Because there’s no other choice, for you and for him. Rafayel cannot bear being shelved in the history of your smile and happiness. Waiting can only be endurable if there’s an endpoint.

+

In his studio, Rafayel begins his next painting.

+

iii. the berries tasted sweet, with an edge of sourness that clung to the bottom of the tongue. it had the exact shade of your eyes, a detail that rafayel brought up the moment he plucked it from the shrub. raising it to align with your eyes, comparing them with his artist's meticulous gaze. maybe when this is all over, i'll go back here again to extract ink from these berries, and paint a portrait of your highness using these to color your eyes. he never showed you any of his paintings, merely mentioned them in passing, and you constructed a dream of him from the throwaway words that left his covered lips. i'm not used to sitting for so long, you reminded him, and he glanced at you, then at the berry between his fingers. my memory is enough, then handed you the fruit.

+

In the few weeks of meeting with you Rafayel forgets that his visiting professorship is ending soon and he has to give out his last lecture. Thomas had asked him what his topic would be. At that point Rafayel had no answer. But now he has.

“I’ve been hearing you talk about Lemuria every now and then with your friends.” He props his cheek on his hand, tilting his head slightly and giving you a charming smile. “Interested?”

You blink. “How did you know?”

“Oh, I’ve seen you a couple of times here, and I happened to hear your friends chat about my lecture. Your points were almost accurate, I’m in awe.”

“The visiting professor—that’s you?!”

Rafayel pauses, the slosh of his drink nearly spilling on his frozen hand.

“You didn’t know?”

Sheepish, you say, “Honestly, I didn’t make the connection. Is that why plenty of people have been glaring at me as of late?”

He releases a frustrated sigh, eyes rolling heavenward.

“In any case, my final lecture is on Friday next week. It’s titled “Memory and Meaning in Lemurian Art”. Why don’t you drop by and listen, and you can tell me what you think afterwards.”

You retrieve your bullet journal to check your schedule. It’s colorful, filled with stickers and doodles that Rafayel finds endearing. Then the excited moue on your face drops into a frown, and Rafayel can foresee the next words that will come out of your downturned lips.

“I’m sorry,” you say guiltily, “but I have a major test that day, and I need to get a high score in order to pass the course.”

Rafayel exhales, long and weary, but ultimately shrugs off the apology. “What a shame, but I forgive you. Just don’t fail your exam or else my magnanimity would be all for nothing.”

+

He calls Thomas that night.

“I’ll disappear for a while once the professorship is over.”

“Hey, wait, what do you me—”

“You’ll be happy to know that this is for my next painting.”

A beat. “Okay … but for how long?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?”

Then he hangs up.

+

He’s trying, he really does. The lecture ends to a resounding applause, and it’s mechanical how he answers the questions posed by the audience. But he’s trying, he’s trying. There’s no specter of you in the sea of faces in the auditorium. You’re at the other end of the university compound, sweating your way through your exam. He genuinely hopes you’d pass, for your sake.

Thomas had booked his flight to another country, where he’ll traverse to a land that he’d visited many times in his dreams and had woken up with a filmy, sweet-sour tang at the roof of his mouth. He’ll leave the morning after the closing dinner party the faculty has prepared for him. There isn’t time to pack much, and no time to tell you goodbye.

Rafayel guesses that it’s only fair: how would you feel waiting for him at that café, the chair across you empty, only the sunlight pooling from the window as your companion?

+

iv. parting, somebody once said, is such a sweet sorrow. much like those berries in that ever-green nation, a lingering sourness remained underneath, the sting of it reminding you every now and then. he was already mourned for even before he left. tell me what it's like—the ocean. he was elusive, untouchable in his grief. you'd heard through whispers, the story of his migration, the drowning before the drying, the unwanted journey. grief brought him to you and grief would steal him away from you, you knew, down to the cells of your body and the hopelessness in your blood. —and yet. and yet you wanted to have a taste of it, anyway.

+

The ever-green land is no longer green, or lush, or alive. Time corroded it into memory, sepia-faded, wizened. Past. The berries he’s searching for don’t grow here anymore. Everything here is empty, barren, helplessly so.

Rafayel hasn’t accounted for such development, but he should have known. Disappointment stings at his chest, and bitterly he turns away and stays at the next town over. At a family-run restaurant situated near the outskirts, he looks over the wide windows, across the highway road, beyond the jagged horizon. The painting won’t be finished, then. Another tragedy, pressed flat next to the forgetting, to the waiting, and his home.

The chef personally serves him his order and, after a shuffle of hesitation, brings up a question.

“Young man, you came from the direction of the old country, yeah?”

Rafayel meets his inquisitive gaze. “Yes, why?”

“It’s been a while since we had someone visiting that place. There’s nothing in there anymore, it’s been that way for years. Why did you go there?”

Rafayel is reluctant to say, but at the guileless set of the older man’s face, he concedes.

“I was looking for berries. The ones native there. They produce a shade that I need for my painting.”

At the mention of the fruit, the chef’s expression lights up. “Oh! I see, I see. You’re in luck, son. We grow them here at the farm. Plenty of those for everyone. How about I give you some? It’s rare meeting someone who still remembers the old country, it’s almost fate. How many did you say you need?”

Fate. Just like the time of your first meeting, as if the universe had gifted you to him. Just like the time of your parting, of your forgetting, of his waiting. Fate as a connection from you to him, red and burning brightly.

He doesn’t want to seem eager, but he knows he’s failed from the way the chef toothily grins at him.

“A hundred or so.”

The chef falters at that, jerking slightly back. But he accepts it with a nod, an avuncular smile making its way across his kind, powdery features.

“That sure is a huge number, but I think we can work something out.”

+

His painting takes a month to complete, inclusive of the time spent making the ink from the acquired berries. Sometimes, Thomas watches him paint, quiet in the background. His stays usually don’t last—a quick flash that Rafayel nearly misses, or deliberately ignores. But during the final stages of the painting process, Thomas hands him the exhibit details.

“I’m just thankful you’re on time for this one.” He sighs, relieved, then leaves.

Alone, Rafayel creates. Brushstroke after careful brushstroke, each varying by pressure and angle. He lets each layer of paint dry before moving onto the next. The berry ink—the color of your eyes—the solely different element of this painting. Center, central. The focal point. The beating heart. The years and years of waiting and longing. The form and the flesh. Alive.

This, too, is an endpoint.

+

v. can i see your face, just this once? your hands grazed his mask like a ghost wanting to touch. rafayel stayed still beneath your desirous fingers, observing, waiting, his own fingers twitching towards his dagger. even in the parting he could not let go of this distance. hopeless, hopeless. your highness would get nothing out of seeing my face. he's wrong, his eyes never left your face, and he's wrong. he didn't stop you from your grasping of his mask, and him—finally—bare and beautiful yet a little sad. you're wrong, you said, tracing his slightly parted lips with a trembling finger, you're wrong. it is everything to me.

+

The gallery is packed. No surprise there. It’s almost boring, in a way. Waiting, Missing hangs at the farthest hall in the floor, special and intimate as it should be. Thomas knows him well; otherwise, Rafayel would have whined at him to hell and back just so he could be granted this demand that is in reality a mandate.

He’s hiding from the throngs of journalists and art critics alike and sequesters himself in a corner that has a clear view of the painting. Loosening his collar and tie, Rafayel breathes and closes his eyes, leans tiredly against the wall. A few more minutes, and he’ll slink out of the building, reputation be damned.

He melts into the shadows whenever somebody passes by. He has neither time nor energy interacting with people today. Watching them through half-mast eyes, Rafayel stays in his secret place and studies with weightless detachment the people looking at the painting.

He’s made a bet with himself about the opinions of his followers and admirers. Who thinks what and why. It makes for great entertainment. The last time, a fresh-faced critic praised Rafayel’s technique as “innovative and a soul-rending reflection of the prodigy’s character.” He had laughed and laughed for hours until he couldn’t breathe any longer.

Another walks by, and before Rafayel retreats further into the corner, he glimpses a familiar gait and a familiar face.

His heartbeat races. He’s never told you that he’s holding an exhibit today. After the professorship Rafayel failed to maintain communication with you, convincing himself that it’s for the best that he protect you from afar that day onwards. It didn’t help that he had to leave as well. At the same time, you never made an effort of reaching out, and Rafayel thought that it was back to square one again, that waiting, that yearning.

But here you are right now, elegantly dressed, like someone gliding out of a dream. Rafayel swallows, his hands shake. You do not have someone else with you, and your eyes are brightly focused on Waiting, Missing, and for a fleeting moment your expression flickers into longing, strange and old and battered and sad, that it compels Rafayel to take a step forward—to you.

“Hey.”

The curious look vanishes; left no traces in your delighted face, as if it wasn’t there in the first place. “Rafayel!” you exclaim. “Long time no see! Congratulations on the exhibit; these are all beautiful.”

Outwardly he smirks, belying the torrential emotions he’s currently going through. He cants his head a little, works his charm on you. “Impressed? No need to hold back your compliments.”

Laughter, prismatic and crystalline. “Yes, yes. Especially this one—Waiting, Missing. What an interesting title. At the center, what paint did you use?”

Ah. Rafayel inhales before answering. “It’s actually ink. I had to make it from a hundred berries. It was a tedious process, but I wouldn’t use anything else. It has to be this, you see.”

“Whoa, no wonder you’d been radio silent all this time. You were creating this masterpiece.”

He hums, afraid that, if he speaks, he’d reveal too much.

“Well …” You throw a playful glance at him. “Shouldn’t we celebrate your success?”

His breath catches. “I—”

Before he manages to finish the sentence, a journalist calls out to him and that summons plenty more, swarming him with no chance of escape. It pushes you out of his peripheral vision, and Rafayel wants to shout your name, but you smile and gesture at him to entertain them first. You mouth, I’ll be back, and wander around other paintings some more.

When he finally succeeds in shaking the journalists off, he seeks you out and stumbles upon you near the exit, where there’s fewer people to pile on him.

“Excellent,” he says, sidling up beside you. You turn to him and smile, and there’s that lightning-flash of something again. For one unbelievably surreal instant, Rafayel thinks that despite your hazy memories, maybe you’d been waiting for him all this time, too.

And that thought emboldens him, moving closer and closer until your bodies almost touch. An asymptote of contact. But this time, he has mustered the courage to close that unbridgeable gap.

Rafayel offers you his hand. “Let’s get out of here?”

You stare at his hand then at his face, his eyes, and a meaningful moment stretches between you and him. But even before the idea of retracting enters his mind, you grab his hand joyfully, grinning ear to ear. His heart warms, full with everything.

You squeeze his hand, ready to go. “Lead the way, then!”

+

vi. a kiss is a greeting and a goodbye, and rafayel tasted of ferocious tides even if you'd seen them only in dreams. his eyes closed, as though savoring his last moments with you, guarded till the bitter end. would that i could ask you to stay—with me. but he shook his head—a final rejection. maybe in another life. there was nobody to watch you cry, in the after.

+

Rafayel is working on a new painting—a portrait this time. The model squirms on his couch, obvious about the discomfort of posing for too long. He huffs a laugh to himself, hidden by the canvas strategically placed between them.

“I heard that,” you grumble.

“Shush, you’re breaking my concentration.”

“If that already breaks your focus then I pity the rest of the art community.” A beat, then: “Is it done?”

“Patience, my dear muse. You need endure it a little more.”

“Hmph, fine. But after this you’re treating me to an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

“All right, all right.” He shakes his head, fond. “My muse, so demanding.”

Something sweet touches the edge of his tongue, succulent with a hint of tartness. Like longing. Except now, it’s layered with something new and exciting. Something like a new beginning.

In the far distance, the sea murmurs, lit fire by the setting sun.

[healmydesires]

forever in your eyes (j.m)

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

summary: It wasn’t like you hadn’t dated before. You had been on plenty of dates since you’ve been in Jackson, too many actually, you’ve even been in a semi serious relationship, but unfortunately, nobody had really charmed their way into your heart like they were supposed to. You’ve never been in love, always thought that falling in love wasn’t meant for you. Until one day, you meet a certain grumpy man.

genre: fluff + romance + angst + smut (18+ mdni)

word count: 15k+

tags/warnings: age gap (reader is 27, joel is in his early 50’s), takes place post s1, very minimal use of y/n, soft!joel tbh, kinda shy!reader… at least with joel, flirty joel, joel deserves to be loved, assumed unrequited love from both sides, reader described as shorter than joel, mutual pining, inexperienced/virgin!reader, unprotected sex, piv sex, loss of virginity, soft!dom joel, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), joel has high key an oral fixation, kinda pleasure!dom?, multiple orgasms, creampie, some breeding kink, overstimulation, size kink, joel is huge… literally packing oof, lots of pet names (darlin, sweetheart, angel, baby girl, etc.), reader has a sister (named emilie, so if that’s your name I’m so sorry 😭😭😭 you can imagine another name then 🥺. I didn’t want it to be y/s/n because that would be so annoying to write imo).

a/n: this is my first joel fic. this is kinda more soft tbh… might be a bit oc? I don’t know but I love it. It’s pretty self indulgent !!! I’ve always loved writing but I got a lot discouraged in the past, giving up on it. I was inspired to start writing again by some of my favourite writers @joelmama and @joelscruff. also english is like my third language so please be nice/gentle with me. do not give me unsolicited advice pls <3 anyways! I hope you enjoy it 🥺

please don’t forget to interact, reblog or let me know if you read/loved it! <3 thank you ily 🥺

AO3 ● playlist

You knew you had feelings for Joel Miller. You’ve always liked and cared for him, even when you first met.

You still remember the day you met him. Clear as day.

It was such a warm and beautiful day, like a year and a half ago. The sun was beaming down on you as you were reading a book that you found on one of your trips outside Jackson — on your front porch of your house. The blowing mid-summer wind was hitting your face, cooling, as if to apologise for the almost unbearable heat that Jackson was currently subjected to. The soft breeze was caressing your skin and hair making the heat a lot more bearable as you enjoyed the day.

You were so immersed in your book that you didn’t hear the people approaching you until there was a shadow descending over the pages of your book. Someone was standing in front of you, their body blocking the sun.

“Yes?” You said with a smile without looking up from your book.

“I would like to introduce you to some people.”

The voice belonged to Tommy. Tommy Miller.

Your eyes widened at that, and you looked up from your book and saw that there were two other people behind Tommy looking down at you.

“I’m sorry,” you said before you cleared your throat, giving them a sheepish smile before standing from your lounger, shielding your eyes from the sun to get a better look at the strangers in front of you.

A teenager gave you a polite smile as she introduced herself. As you gave her your name in return you finally noticed the man next to her, gave you a curt nod when you locked eyes with him. He had a broad build, dark eyes and brown peppered hair. You assumed he was around the age of fifty and you couldn’t help but find him incredibly handsome.

“This is Ellie and my brother,” Tommy smiled as he gestured to both people next to him. “They’re your new neighbours.”

You knew Tommy had an older brother but you didn't know what you had been expecting. Maybe someone less handsome. As you continued to take him in you realised you were staring. You felt your body becoming more warm as you felt him stare back at you.

“How’s it going? I’m Y/N.” You gave him a small smile as you stepped forward to extend a hand out to the man.

"Hello," he repeated your name with a deep southern accent, which did nothing to calm your racing heart. You don’t think you’ve ever heard a voice that attractive in your entire life and it made heat flood to your cheeks. His hard expression melted into a more soft one as he took your hand in his. "I’m Joel, how’s your bench going?”

Your eyes widened at his words, “My bench? How did you—”

“We saw you through the living room window earlier this morning or more like Joel did.” Ellie, the teenager said with a huge grin on her face.

“Ellie.” He warned under his breath. His ears turned red and the two of them began to argue in hushed whispers, but your mind was elsewhere as panic began to set in.

Oh my god. He noticed me?

You grew embarrassed as you realised that he saw you struggle to fix that old bench on your porch. You’re painfully aware of how clumsy you are and that you’re not handy at all but you don’t like to ask other people for help. It was not because of your pride or any of that sort, you’d hate to burden someone else with your issues, so you mostly keep trying to fix things yourself.

"Oh yeah..." You said, looking back towards the bench that has been the bane of your existence these past few days. Your words effectively pulled Joel and Ellie out of their current argument. "It's a bit broken and needs some fixing."

Joel just looked at you for a moment before speaking up again. “You know, if you want, I could come check it out?”

You felt your cheeks heat up again at his offer and you glanced over at Tommy. “Uhm…”

“We both used to be contractors back in the day, so if you ever need anything repaired or something built, we are your people. Well… Joel specifically.” Tommy laughed.

“Oh, that’s cool. I think I’m good for now though, I don’t need any help but thanks for offering.” You declined politely with a small smile. You knew you could use their or his help with repairing the bench, but you didn’t want to burden anyone. And the older brother was already making you feel flustered, you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself when you just met.

“Alright, you know where to find me if you change your mind.” He gave you a small but genuine smile before the three of them walked away from you.

As they walked away, you released a breath you didn't realise you were holding. The hammering of your heart only registering as the distance grew between you. You felt a bit of disappointment once they were gone, a sense of longing setting in your heart as you thought about the tall and older man that you know you’ll grow to care for.

—

“God damn it. Work with me please.” You grumbled as you tried to fix one of the loose wooden planks of the bench. Sweat was dripping down your forehead as you concentrated on your task at hand. You were on the floor, crouched underneath the bench you were so desperately trying to repair. You’ve been trying to put it off for a couple of weeks now but you knew you couldn’t keep doing that. You knew you should ask someone for help but you didn’t want to give up just yet. Curse words wouldn’t stop leaving your mouth as you struggled. “Fuck.”

“I didn’t take you as a girl that could curse like a sailor.” A low and deep but still soft voice resounds behind you.

“Ah shit!” you gasped as you heard the voice behind you. You’d smacked your head on the edge of the bench when you’d startled at the sudden intrusion. You recognised that voice. Joel Miller. The man that’s been consuming your thoughts for weeks now. You hissed as you rubbed at the already sore spot and landed on your butt as you looked up at him.

The bemused expression morphed into one of concern as he crouched down to your level. “Are you okay?” He replaced your hand with his own, making sure there was no visible injury.

His touch made your body turn hot as he continued to study you.

“Yeah I-I’m fine. Although, I do think it will be a nice bump later.” You chuckled. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that, it’s not good for my heart.”

“And your head,” he said as a grin replaced the one of concern. You were glad to be sitting because that smile has been making you weak in the knees lately. Ever since you’ve been introduced you’ve been talking and hanging out here and there, finding out that the man can smile sometimes. You’re not entirely sure why he felt so at ease around you but you were truly grateful that he was spending time with you. (It might be for the fact that Ellie grew fond of you and loved to ask you a million questions whenever she was around.) He had the prettiest smile you’d ever seen and it lit up his whole face, you truly wish he would smile more. Subconsciously you started biting your lip as you admired him.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” He questioned with a chuckle as he looked at the state of the bench next to you.

Your face grew warm as you moved to focus your gaze on your hands. “I’m fine.” You whisper softly as you continue to look at your hands in your lap.

You heard him sigh before he took your chin gently in his hand to tilt your head back, making you look into his eyes.

“You know it’s okay to ask for help sometimes?” He said as he studied you intently. It was hard to maintain his eye contact, your face heating up more under his intense gaze and because of the close proximity of both of your faces.

His brown eyes stared into yours and you couldn’t help but find them the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever looked at. Your eyes flitted all over his face, not being able to stay in one place. You couldn’t get over how handsome he was. His head tilted to the side and he gave you a questionable look. You felt embarrassed as you realised you hadn’t replied to him yet.

“Sorry,” you bit your lip nervously as warmth spread even more to your cheeks. Your eyes moved away from his face to a spot behind him as you stared into the distance. “I just don’t want to burden you.” Your voice sounded so small and squeaky that you cringed internally. Embarrassed, you quickly drop your gaze to your lap.

“Oh, Darlin’,” he said gently, his expression turning more soft. “Sweetheart, you could never be a burden.”

“I’m sorry,” you bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to keep yourself from getting emotional. “I didn’t mean to… I just— I just always feel like it’s best I do everything myself all the time because I don’t want to annoy anyone with my problems.”

You’ve always been someone to wear your heart on your sleeve. You’re a very sensitive person and very in tune with your emotions most of the time. People saw you as a very caring and helpful person but when it came to your own things you mostly tended to yourself. You’re aware that most people aren’t like you, at least not anymore ever since the outbreak happened, but you didn’t care. There’s strength in sensitivity.

“You could never annoy me,” Joel frowned. “especially not when it comes to you struggling to do something on your own.”

You weren’t used to people caring for you the way you cared for others. So when Joel reassured you or took the time to hang out with you, you couldn’t help but feel appreciated.

His reassuring words gradually eased your anxiety. You let out a long sigh before looking up at him again. “O-okay, I-I think… I might need your help.” You stutter, hoping he didn’t catch it but he smiled at you warmly instead.

Shit, he’s so pretty. Come on, forget it. He could never have feelings for you.

“Good. Because I’d love to help.” He winked at you with a crooked smile.

Warmth flooded your body as you stared at him, you couldn’t help but feel flustered around him. You’re certain that your heart is running two hundred miles per hour, because it felt like it was about to burst out of your chest.

It’s just a silly crush. You told yourself.

—

Turns out, Joel Miller, your hot new neighbour, could be very handy.

He was able to fix the bench you've been fighting with for weeks in less than an hour. You were truly impressed.

As he brought back the supplies he used to repair the bench back inside to your supply closet, you couldn’t help but want him to stay a little longer. Besides, you wanted to thank him for being so helpful. You’re relieved and so grateful that the ‘demon bench’, as you had called it, was now fixed

“Thank you for helping me out, Joel. It means a lot to me.” You said as you smiled up at him as you both walked towards your front door.

“Oh darlin’ it’s no problem. I loved helping you.” He said with a grin. He moved closer, making your breath hitch which made him smile even more. “You can ask me anything. Whenever you need.” He winked and you felt your insides melt at his words and his actions.

“I-I want to be able to thank you. Give something in return for your help.” You smiled shyly at him.

“You don’t have to do anything for me sweet—”

“Please, let me make you dinner. It’s the least I can do after what you did for me.” You cut him off as you looked up at him with wide eyes. “Ellie is welcome too!” You added nervously when he took a bit longer to reply.

He snorts softly at your words before clearing his throat. “Ellie isn't in tonight,” he says as he avoids your gaze for a few seconds “she’s at this girl’s place she hangs out with a lot. So it’s just me.”

“Oh that’s okay! I’m sure she can join us next time.” You flashed him a bright smile. “But, I’d love to make dinner for you tonight… if that’s okay?” You asked with pleading eyes.

He chuckled fondly at your expression as he shook his head with amusement. “Of course. I’d love that.”

You felt like you were going to burst out of excitement. Internally you’re screaming, kicking with your legs like a schoolgirl thinking about her crush. You really loved spending time with the man.

Joel followed you back inside as you quickly disappeared down the hall and into the dining room that’s connected to your kitchen. You saw him admire the walls of your dining room from your peripheral view as you’re rummaging in one of the cupboards of your kitchen for a cutting board. Most of the paintings were either more abstract gradient paintings or heavily inspired by the Impressionism art movement.

“You have lots of paintings. They are very pretty.”

“Thank you. Some of them are made by me or my sister.” You smiled genuinely as you made your way back to him.

“Really?” He asked curiously.

Your smile turned timid as you looked up at him, Joel's inquisitive look making you even more shy.

“Yeah… we both love art. Especially making our own sometimes.” You cleared your throat with another bashful smile, before looking down at your shoes.

“Is your sister…?”

“Is she alive? Yes” you finished his question. “She lives here in Jackson with her boyfriend actually.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah. I’m truly grateful to have her in my life.” You told him. “She’s my best friend.”

“That’s beautiful” he nods at you as a small smile graces his features. You can’t help but feel yourself get more warm at his soft expressions. He’s so beautiful. “How did you two find your way to Jackson?”

“It’s a long story. I don’t think I’ve ever told you this but, originally my sister and I weren't from here… the USA I mean.” You told him.

Joel’s eyes widened at your words. You giggled at his expression.

“We are originally from Europe, I was still very young when the outbreak happened. I was around? Seven years old. We were in San Francisco when it happened and my sister and I haven’t really moved from that place for a long time ever since everything went down.” You said as you walked back to the kitchen.

“Christ. That’s very young.” He said, he looked shocked as you told him as much as you wanted him to know.

“Yeah but Emilie was four when it happened.” You said as you bit your lip.

“It must be hard being trapped in a foreign country. Especially when you’re a child.”

“Yeah… My parents eventually died when I turned eighteen. So it was just Emilie and I for a long time. One day a couple of years ago she went outside the San Francisco QZ and I hadn’t heard from her for a long while. I just… I had to look for her, she’s my sister, she means everything to me. I would literally travel through this whole country just to find her. I always felt like I needed to protect her. I’ve always been very overprotective of her, just like I know she is with me.” You chuckled as you shook your head with amusement at your previous words.

“Overprotective huh?” He said as he flashed you a grin as he came to lean against a wall close to you.

“Yeah,” you giggled. “I am the big sister but sometimes it does feel like she’s more overprotective than I am.”

“Your sister seems very nice. I do understand her being overprotective though.” He smiled as he leaned closer to you.

“Oh really?” You bit your lip as you continued to prepare everything for dinner.

“Yeah, I mean you’re a precious little thing so I do understand her overprotectiveness.” He muttered.

Heat rose up in your face at his words. You couldn’t look up at him, feeling too flustered to look him in the eye. Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest as you kept repeating his words in your head. He thought you were precious.

Was that flirting? No. He would never flirt with you.

“Y-you think so?” You question shyly, still not meeting his gaze.

“Uhuhm” He hummed softly, “I don’t only think that, it is so. You’re very precious.”

“O-oh.” You were at loss for words.

Joel chuckled, probably because of your flustered state, before he noticed you struggled with the ingredients. “Let me help you sweetheart.”

“No, it’s okay.” You said. But as most people knew, Joel was a stubborn man.

“Darlin,” he looked at you pointedly, letting you know that you wouldn’t be able to stop him from giving you a hand.

“I’m making dinner for you, to thank you. You shouldn’t be helping me.” You huffed as you crossed your arms in front of your chest. You’re aware you probably look like a child but you can’t help it. Dinner was supposed to be made by you, and only you.

“Oh angel, being in your presence is rewarding enough for me.” He says as he leans closer to your ear.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his words. The sound of his deep voice close to your ear, and the feeling of his breath against your skin, made you fight the urge to shiver.

Joel smiled playfully, eyes looked down and locked with yours for a couple of seconds. The close proximity made your skin set on fire. He could lean down a bit more and then his lips would be on yours. You slowly pulled back, clearing your throat while you did.

“A-a-anyways.” You stuttered. You hated stuttering, you never really stuttered but somehow this man could turn you into a flustered, stuttering mess. His smile widened at your state which made you want to run and hide. You decided to change the subject. “I had to go through some states to find her and eventually I found her. Then we travelled together through Wyoming and then some people from Jackson surrounded us and that’s how we got here. That was almost a year ago.”

“So… You are pretty new here?”

“Yep.” You said as you smiled at him.

It was silent for a moment as both of you were preparing everything for dinner. Until your eyes widened at the realisation that you hadn’t offered him anything to drink yet.

“Oh shit, sorry. I can’t believe that I haven’t offered you something to drink yet.” You said as you abandoned your current task, running towards another supply closet, looking for something good for the both of you. “Give me a second.”

You could hear Joel chuckle, knowing he was probably looking at you with an amused expression on his face. You were looking for a specific bottle of red wine, your favourite, the ones you always keep for special occasions. Once you found it you couldn’t help but squeal excitedly. “Aha! Here it is!” You smiled triumphantly as you held it in your hands.

You were grinning widely as you came back into the kitchen. “I’ve got some red wine, I hope that’s okay.” You said as you placed down the bottle on the kitchen counter.

“More than okay.” Joel smiled.

You beamed up at him and opened one of the cabinets, you stood on the tip of your toes as you struggled to reach for some wine glasses.

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself. “Why did I put those glasses so high and so far in the back?”

“Let me,” he chuckled softly as he stepped behind you, his body pressing softly against yours. Your breath hitched at the action and warmth spread all over your body. You mentally cursed yourself as you felt a heat pool between your legs. Different kinds of scenarios started going through your head as you felt his body pressed against yours. You wished his arms were wrapped around you as he stood behind you. But one of his arms extended over yours as he reached for two glasses easily. “Here they are.” He whispered as he leant down to whisper close to your ear.

You truly felt as if you caught a fever. He’s so close and so big. As his chest brushed against your back you felt as if your brain short circuited for a second. He was so broad and tall while you were so much smaller than him, he could quite literally swallow you whole with his frame.

You felt his body slowly retreat from yours, giving you the possibility to collect your thoughts again.

“Show off,” you grumbled teasingly, warmth still filling your chest and face.

Joel snorted, shaking his head amused. “You’re just tiny.”

You gasped dramatically, turned around and feigned offence at his words. “Am not!”

“Sure you aren’t.” He teased, a grin forming on his face.

You giggled at that, “you’re just awfully tall.”

“Right.” He nodded along to your words, tried to look as serious as he could, he tried to stifle a grin and you could see right through him.

“I am right.” You pouted.

“So am I.” He retorted playfully, a loud laugh left his lips as you continued to pout, before he took a step closer to you.

Your cheeks warmed, but you tried to hide your embarrassment by crossing your arms and sticking your chin up in the air. Huffing you turned around, “get back to work Mr. Miller.”

“Yes ma’am” he said in mock seriousness as he went back to making dinner with you.

“You’re so silly,” you giggled as you teasingly bumped your shoulder against his arm. You went to open the bottle of wine before pouring some of the liquid in both glasses. Once the glasses were filled you held a glass out to him.

“Only with you darlin’,” he gave you a wink before he took the glass from your hand. Flushed, you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped in your chest when his fingers brushed against yours.

This man is going to be the death of me.

—

Dinner was very nice. There was lots of banter, lots of words exchanged from Joel that felt awfully like flirting but still you tried to push those thoughts away. He wouldn’t flirt with you. You’re pretty certain of it. The tension sometimes was killing you though. You think it was sexual tension but then again that would be impossible because he wasn’t flirting with you.

But you also noticed that the more you hung out with Joel the more relaxed he was around you. You loved that for him. Underneath all that rough exterior he has so much depth to him. He’s very caring, protective, helpful, funny, and so intelligent. He’s so sweet to you too, you didn’t know why. But all you knew is that you care for him so much. You felt comfortable around him too, safe. You couldn’t help but associate him with warmth, safety. Home. He felt like home to you.

Empty plates were still on the table and for a while you were enjoying the comfortable silence between you two. Eventually you broke that silence.

“The wine is so good.” You whispered as you looked at your wine glass then brought your gaze softly to the man sitting across from you. He seemed like he was lost in his thoughts, staring off in the distance as he looked through the window outside towards your garden.

He brought his gaze back to you as he heard your voice, he cocked his head to the side. “Hmmm what did you say sweetheart?”

“It’s good right?” You ask as you motion with your head to the drink in your hand.

“You’re not wrong. It’s very good.” He nods with a soft smile.

“It’s my favourite,” you flashed him a grin before you took a generous sip of your wine, the liquid burning down your throat.

“Oh really?” He questioned with a curious smile.

“Yeah, I keep them for special occasions.” You said as you bit your lip, feeling bashful.

“Is that so?” Joel’s smile turned into a full smirk as he looked straight into your eyes. “I am assuming this is a special occasion then?”

You hummed your agreement, shrugging your shoulders with faux nonchalance as you continued to bite your lip. Warmth was overwhelming you. Not only because of the alcohol you consumed but that man always made you heat up.

“I’ll consider that as a compliment.” He said as he leaned back in his chair.

Excitement bubbled inside you. Feeling bold, you winked at him. “As you should.”

He was visibly surprised, Joel didn't expect you to finally flirt back. You giggled at his reaction, pleased to see that you could surprise him.

You stood up from your seat with a smile as you took the empty plates from the table, bringing them to the sink.

As you’re about to turn the faucet on you heard him stand up from his chair. He muttered your name, his voice coming out a lot deeper than usual. Fighting back a shiver you slowly turned around to look at him. Your eyes were wide with curiosity and your heart was pounding so hard you could barely hear over the sound of blood rushing in your ears. He looked at you, a desperate expression on his face.

“Darlin’,” he said, his voice hoarse as his dark eyes continued to hold your gaze. For the first time of the night you couldn’t fight back the shiver from going down your spine. Heat flooded your body, your cheeks burning, the warmest you’ve ever felt them.

Joel must have noticed the way your body was reacting to his voice, as he dragged a low shuddering breath at the sight of you.

“Joel?” Your breath turned heavier as you waited for him to say or do something. Your wide pleading eyes stared into his hungry eyes. He continued to stand there just looking at you, his chest moved quicker as he breathed more heavily. Your heart pounded so fast and hard that you were worried that he could hear it from across the room.

Your eyebrows pulled together as you stared at him, your eyes shining with curiosity. You waited with bated breath for Joel to say what he was meant to tell you. He looked at you desperately before he moved from his spot, striding towards you but before he could reach you, someone barged through the door of your home with a loud bang.

“Hey! I knew I’d find you here.” Ellie yelled without looking at both of you. Once her eyes settled on both Joel and you her mouth fell open. “What’s happening?”

You were breathing heavily as you looked at Joel. Eventually you brought your gaze to the teen. “N-nothing, Ellie bean.” You stuttered out quickly, moving away from the kitchen towards the younger girl. “We just had dinner.”

Her eyes widened, “without me?”

Your face flushed with embarrassment before you turned around to look at Joel. “I thought she was at—”

“I’m assuming you told her I wasn’t home tonight, right?” Ellie cut you off, raising one of her eyebrows as she looked at him.

Wait what? Did he want to be alone with me?

Joel swallowed and then avoided both Ellie and your gazes. “Alright.” She snorted.

“I think it's better if we go home.” Joel finally spoke up, before walking towards Ellie. You feel yourself deflate at his words and you can’t help but feel a bit disappointed.

“O-okay.” You whispered, looking down as you entwined both of your hands nervously.

Ellie looked at you with sympathy before glaring up at Joel. “You’re so stupid.” She grumbled under her breath as she gave him a shove as she made her way to the front door.

“Ellie,” he warned her.

“You are.” She sneered.

Joel sighed deeply as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He dropped his hand before looking at you. “Thank you for dinner,” he said with a small but grateful smile.

“Thank you for fixing my bench on the front porch,” you gave him a faint smile. “I enjoyed spending time with you.” You said as you looked away timidly.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me.”

You bit your lip as you avoided his gaze. He said your name softly before he held your chin gently with one of his hands, tilting your head towards his face which made your eyes lock with his own.

“I always enjoy spending time with you.” Warmth rose to your face at his words. He gave you a warm smile before releasing your chin.

You walked with him towards your front door, leaning against it as you tried to say your goodbyes to each other.

“I really enjoyed tonight.”

“Me too.” You said as you bit your lip.

“Goodnight darlin’.” He said with a barely noticeable smile before he walked out your door.

Your eyes met Ellie’s waving at you from in front of your porch. You return the action with a small wave.

“Goodnight.” You whispered before you closed the door behind them. You rested your back against the door, exhaling a long breath you realised you didn’t know you were holding in.

—

You were in too deep.

As months went by, you were more and more aware of how strong your feelings were beginning to grow for Joel. So strong that they were starting to terrify you. Not because you didn’t want to have these feelings for him, no that was certainly not it. You just never experienced feelings this strong for someone before.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t dated before. You had been on plenty of dates since you’ve been in Jackson, too many actually, you’ve even been in a semi serious relationship, but unfortunately, nobody had really charmed their way into your heart like they were supposed to.

You’ve never been touched intimately before, never had sex either. You knew how inexperienced you were but so far, you just hadn’t found someone to be worthy of your time.

You’ve never fallen in love with anyone before. And these new feelings were truly scaring you. For so long you were so certain that you’d never fall in love with someone. That falling in love wasn’t meant for you. That those feelings would never exist for you. The apocalypse hadn’t made things easier either so it wasn’t like falling in love was an option for a long time. But now that you’re relatively more safe, it was a possibility.

It was so much easier when it was just a crush, or an infatuation, despite the fact that you knew that crushes usually wouldn’t make your heart swell so big or your lungs feel so tight when you think of them or see them. But now, it’s a lot harder to pretend that it’s not more than that.

You always dreamed of the day you’d finally fall in love but now that those feelings were here they made you feel like you wanted to run and hide.

You’re not sure you’d be ready to confess those feelings to him any time soon. You were quite certain that they would be one sided, so you’d prefer to keep those to yourself. Because why would someone like him ever see you the way you see him, the way you feel for him. You were a lot younger than him, around twenty years or so. You’re twenty seven. So it seemed impossible for you that he could regard you in the same way you did.

So you decided to do just that, keep them a secret. And you were completely fine with that, with your feelings remaining completely unknown to anyone but yourself.

Or so you thought.

—

On a beautiful warm spring day, you decided you were going to indulge in your favourite hobby. Drawing.

You’ve always loved art, specifically, you loved sketching. If it wasn’t for the fact that the world ended, you’d like to think you would’ve studied art or tried to become an artist.

You were pretty good at it actually, not to sound too full of yourself. But with the way things were, your skills weren’t at their full potential. And besides you didn’t like to tell most people, keeping it a secret because you were always too shy or embarrassed to show people your talents. So you sketched as much as you could in your free time.

You loved to draw all sorts of things, nature, still life, animals and sometimes, people. But on top of your innocent drawings you also had a specific secret sketchbook that you only drew in when you were certain you were alone.

This sketchbook was dedicated entirely to indulging in your massive crush on Joel Miller. (Okay, crush is an understatement.) It was usually difficult to draw a specific person when they weren’t standing right in front of you, but you had seen his face so many times that it was nearly photographically imprinted in your mind. You would often summon his face up whenever you were alone. As many times as you could. Most of these were just his face, the sketchbook was definitely filled with several of him smiling. Some were just details of, for example, his hands or his eyes. Or even his nose or lips.

Everything about him made you feel warm inside. You would always be a flustered mess around him and it would even make you heat up when you’d draw him. Sometimes you’d have to take breaks from drawing him because you’d start getting too hot from thinking about him.

You often felt like you were doing something bad or wrong, like you were some sort of stalker when all you did was admire him.

It was a specific drawing you were currently working on, after checking and double-checking that you were truly alone. It was a beautiful day and you had the day off, so you figured what better way to spend it then by sitting on your front porch all day while enjoying the weather and sketching out what you’d seen the man do during your shared patrol the day before.

The drawing was him holding his gun as he concentrated on a target in front of him. You were so focused on sketching him as well as you could, wanting to capture every feature of him in the best way possible. You recalled his intense expression, the way his jaw clenched while he was so focused yesterday. His dark brown eyes and his handsome side profile—

“What are you drawing?”

You practically jumped and yelled as you heard the voice close to you. Hurriedly you tried to close the sketchbook as you addressed the person standing close to you. “Ellie! You scared me. What are you doing here?”

“I’m just done with school and thought I’d drop by. I kinda wanted to spend some time with you.” She smiled at you as she was leaning against the wall. The soft expression slowly turned into a more mischievous smile as she cocked her head to the side to study you. “You okay there, Y/N?”

You swallowed nervously before giving her your best smile. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well… you’re looking pretty nervous or flustered. Embarrassed even.” She said as she smirked deviously.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m perfectly fine.” You said as you tried to keep your composure.

You could never tell Ellie about the fact that you’re drawing Joel. He’s practically her father figure. Besides, you were quite certain it would make the whole situation awkward.

“You sure?” She asked as she leaned closer to you. “Could it have something to do with… what you’re drawing?”

“I— no. I mean no.”

“Hmmm.” Ellie hummed as she looked at you suspiciously.

Before you could react, Ellie snatched the sketchbook out of your hands at lightning speed.

Fuck. fuck. FUCK. Please no.

“Ellie—”

You sprang to your feet and quickly tried to grab the book back from her, but Ellie pulled it just out of reach at the last second with a huge teasing smirk on her face. Your face burned with shame.

“It’s nothing Ellie, please give it back!” You couldn’t hide the terrified desperation in your voice.

“You sure it’s nothing?” She said as she hid the sketchbook behind her back.

“Yes!” Apprehension fills your bones at her actions.

“Ah, then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind letting me take a peek at what’s inside right?” Ellie grinned dangerously as she moved the book in front of her.

“Please give it back.” Tears started to well up in your eyes as you pleaded for her to give it back.

Shit. It’s over.

As she opened the book on a random page, a gasp left her mouth. “Oh my god?!”

“Ellie, I’m—”

“You’re drawing Joel?” She whispered with wide eyes as she flipped through the pages.

You’ve never felt your face warm up this hot in your entire life. “No?” You said nervously but it came out more as a question.

Ellie said your name softly as she looked at you with a huge smile. “You have a crush on Joel?”

“I— I-I’m— uhm I don’t know, I just—” you stuttered as you tried to retrieve the sketchbook. Ellie pulled back which made you want to scream internally.

“It’s okay, I’m not mad.” Her face softened as she saw you look utterly terrified. “If anything, I’m very happy.”

“What?” You asked as you blinked your tears away.

“How could I be mad at you? I’ve always wanted Joel to be happy. He deserves that, even if he often doesn’t think he deserves that himself.” She smiled at you before looking back at some of the drawings inside the book. “They’re very beautiful by the way. I love drawing too.” She stepped closer to you as she went to put the book back in your hands. “Besides,” she shrugged nonchalantly, “he has a crush on you too.”

“Oh.”

Warmth flooded your body as you listened to her. You quickly felt overwhelmed by her words and everything that happened, you needed to sit down to process it better. You went to sit down with the book in your lap, looking down at it as you were at loss for words. It was very difficult for you to wrap your head around what she said. Joel having feelings for you? You couldn’t allow yourself to believe it. As you let her words sink in, she took a place next to you, placing a hand on your arm and giving it a small reassuring squeeze. Ellie gave you enough time to collect your thoughts and you were truly grateful for that.

You heaved out a long sigh. “I don’t have a crush.” You finally spoke up but not meeting her gaze just yet.

“What? But—”

“Saying it’s a crush is an understatement.” Your voice trembled as you finally looked at her. “I’ve never felt like this in my entire life, so it’s hard for me to deal with what I’m feeling.”

“Oh.” She said as her eyes widened. “You’re… In love?”

“I am pretty sure I am, yes.” You nodded with a small smile.

“Okay. Well he has feelings for—”

“Ellie, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have feelings for me.” You interrupted her.

“Oh my god,” she groaned as she hid her face in her hands, mumbling, “you’re both so oblivious.”

“What?”

“You’re both so stupid. So oblivious.” She groaned once again as she threw her hands in the air. “You both think that the feelings are one sided.”

“I don’t know…” you trailed off as you let yourself lean back on the bench. You’re quite certain that you’re the only one being so consumed by these emotions. You’ve pretty much made your mind up about the fact that it’s impossible for him to return any of those feelings that you have for him.

“The atmosphere when I came in the last time both of you had dinner, just the two of you, certainly didn’t look like it was one sided.”

“Barged in.” You corrected her teasingly as you bumped your shoulder into hers.

“Okay, whatever. My point still stands.”

“Ellie, that was months ago…” you sighed deeply and shook your head at her words.

“Stop. Why do you do this?” She asked exasperated.

“Wh—��

“Why do you believe that he wouldn’t have feelings for you too?” Ellie questioned as she leaned closer to you. “Like, you’re so pretty and have such a lovely personality.”

“I-I I don’t know. I just find it hard to believe. Besides,” you shrugged with a frown “I find it very hard to deal with my own emotions because I’ve never been in love before so this is so new to me.”

Her eyes softened as she listened to you. Slowly, she brought her hand to squeeze your arm reassuringly. “I can understand that. But love is a beautiful thing.”

“True…” you whispered.

“I can understand being scared, but Y/N you’re so worthy of love. Just like Joel is. I am convinced both of you are meant for each other.” She said with a hopeful expression.

“Ellie—”

“I’m serious. Just, please think about it for a while. You both deserve more than this secret pining for each other.” She grumbled at the last sentence.

“Okay I will. Can we please talk about something else now?”

“Sure.” She shrugged with a smile.

“Thank you, Ellie bean.” You said gratefully.

It’s quiet between you two, as you two sit in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying the beautiful weather and each other’s company.

“So… drawing huh?” She grinned.

—

As Ellie and you were talking about your shared love for drawing you heard someone approaching the both of you. Ellie is the first one to look up and she greets the person with a wide smile.

“Hi Emilie!” Ellie beamed as your sister stepped foot on your front porch.

“Oh, here are my favourite girls!” She said with the biggest grin on her face. Emilie brought her hand up to high-five Ellie. “Hey ravioli.” She said as the youngest girl hit her hand.

Ellie scoffed and rolled her eyes dramatically. “Jeez, just because I love ravioli doesn’t mean you have to call me that. Can’t a girl love food in peace.”

Your sister doesn’t reply to the teen and averted her attention to you, greeting you too. Emilie gestures for Ellie to scooch over, before she plops down on the bench between both of you. “So what are you guys talking about?”

“Hey! That bench was recently repaired! There’s no need for you to let yourself fall on the seat like that.” You groan at your sister's silly behaviour.

“Recently? That was months ago.” Ellie counters with a playful smile.

“Ah yes, the bench that the love of your life repaired.” Emilie said with a dreamy expression.

You gasped at her words, feeling your cheeks heat up instantly. You gave her a light shove, “Emilie!”

“What?” Your sister shrugs nonchalantly, “it’s true.”

“Love of your life?” Ellie beams.

You sighed dramatically before leaning against the back of the bench. “Look at what you just did.” You gestured towards Ellie.

“Oh quit the theatrics.” Your sister rolled her eyes teasingly. “Everyone knows you have feelings for Joel except for that man himself.”

Your eyes widened as her words registered in your mind. “Everyone?” You squeaked.

“Yes, just like everyone knows that man is pining over you except for you!” Your sister said exasperated.

You shook your head frantically. “You’re ly—”

“Oh my god, Y/N.” Ellie groaned. “Wake up.”

“Yeah, lovely sister of mine,” Emilie placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a serious look, “respectfully wake the fuck up.”

“Disrespectfully, Emilie, shut up.” You said to your sister, shrugging her hand off you. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, pouting as you still leaned against the bench.

“Why are you pouting? This is a good thing.” Ellie huffed.

“Yeah, this is a good thing. Why don’t you want to allow good things into your life?” Emilie asked, looking at you seriously.

Silence fell for some moments, before you whispered, “I don’t feel like I deserve it.”

“Yes, you do!” Both Ellie and your sister said simultaneously.

You bit your lip as you looked at them silently. You knew deep down that you deserved to love and be loved in return but it was so hard for you to accept that someone could genuinely have feelings for you. It wouldn’t make any sense, you were always used to people that were attracted to you to expect something from you that you weren’t ready to do or they wouldn’t genuinely care about who you are as a person. You knew Joel was different, he showed you enough through the past year. But somehow your mind tried to tell you otherwise.

“This is driving me insane,” Ellie sighed, shaking her head.

“Ellie,” your sister said pointedly at the younger girl before turning back to look back at you. “Y/N… you are so worthy of love. I know you’ve never experienced this type of emotion or feeling ever before, but you deserve to feel safe with someone and to love someone deeply and for them to love you just as fiercely. I know you keep thinking because of past relationships, friendships or situationships that people aren’t truly interested in you or that people don’t genuinely care for you. But, those people do exist. Ellie cares for you, I do, and I am completely certain that Joel cares for you too. You deserve to feel loved, cared for and to be happy.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at your sister’s words. You felt truly overwhelmed by everything she told you. Deep down you knew she was right, you were trying to believe her words but you knew it might take a bit of time.

“Thank you.” You whispered, tears flowing down your cheeks as you hugged her side. “You don’t know how much that means to me. It might take some time for me to truly believe everything you said but I want to try.”

Both girls went to envelop you in a warm hug, squeezing your body tight. You felt your body relax in their embrace.

“I love you.” Ellie whispered, at her words you hugged her body tighter.

“I love you too, Ellie bean.” You smiled, tears still in your eyes as you leaned your head against the crown of her head.

And for the first time in a long time you felt like your heart could breathe again.

—

A month passed and you still hadn’t confessed your feelings to the man that’s been consuming your very brain for a year. You still hung out whenever you could, but telling Joel how you felt about him still terrified you. But as time passed, you allowed yourself to believe the words your sister and Ellie told you. It was very freeing.

One thing that didn’t change though was your stubbornness. You are certain you will always hate asking people for help. Like for example, the fact that your shower head was acting up so much you couldn’t take proper showers which made you have to use Emilie’s shower at her place sometimes. Until the shower head actually broke.

That’s why a few days later, you were standing in front of Joel’s door, contemplating if you should really ask him for his help. You bit your lip as you thought about it. Sighing, you told yourself that you should just do it. As you were about to knock, the door opened.

Your eyes widened as you came face to face with Joel. Your cheeks heat up as you lock eyes with him. You know you shouldn't be flustered right now because he is the only one who can help you. And he did tell you that you could always come to him if you needed his help. Or for anything really. But somehow, you still couldn’t help but feel shy around him.

“Sweetheart?” Joel looked at you worriedly.

“H-hi?” You smiled sheepishly. “Am I coming at a bad time?”

“No, ‘course not.” He shook his head slightly, a soft smile curled upon his lips. “Everything alright?”

“I am alright, it’s just,” you trailed off as you looked away shyly. “I think I might need your help.”

Joel closed the door behind him as he kept his gaze on you. He motioned for you to show the way. “Let’s go.”

You giggled as you shook your head light heartedly. “You don’t even know what I need your help for.”

“That’s where you're wrong darlin’. A little birdie told me your shower head is broken.” Joel’s mouth twitched in mild amusement as you just gaped at him.

Oh my god… Emilie.

Your face burned once again. You couldn’t believe that your sister would tell the person you’re desperately in love with about this. You felt embarrassed, knowing that he knew about you struggling. As if he could read your thoughts, “I only know since yesterday, but I wanted you to come to me when you were ready.” He said as he looked at you, a gentle smile on his lips.

“O-okay.” You said, groaning internally at your stuttering. “Anyways, yes. I need your help with fixing my shower. I hope that’s okay?” You asked hesitatingly.

“‘Course it is. Show the way, pretty girl.” He winked, beckoning for you to move along.

He thinks I’m pretty?

—

Joel was standing in your shower as he tried to fix the shower head. He smiled as he threw you a thumbs up.

“Ah, here we go. This should work now—” Joel’s smile faltered as water started unexpectedly spraying out of the shower head. Surprised, it slipped out of his hands, dropping to the floor, the spray pointing up at him, which drenched Joel quickly.

Your eyes widened as you took Joel in. His white shirt and jeans are both drenched and sticking to his body. You could see the outline of everything. Your body turned flush with heat as you continued to stare at him. You couldn’t help but find him so hot, with his shirt clinging to his body. He grumbled as he looked down at the state of his clothes. Eventually you moved into action, “O-oh let me get you a towel!” you blurted out. You quickly made your way to one of your closets in your bedroom, rummaging for some spare towels.

“Y/N stop being such a creep.” You grumbled to yourself, embarrassed that you were staring at him so unabashedly. You’re worried that he might think you’re creepy, staring at him like he was the sexiest man you’ve ever seen. Well, actually, he was the sexiest man to you. But you didn’t want him to think of you as some sort of weirdo. That’s the last thing you want, for him to think you’re creepy. As you found the towels you were still in such a deep inner monologue while you walked back into the bathroom.

“I found the towels—” you gasp, accidentally dropping the towels on the floor as you took Joel in.

The man had taken off his shirt, most likely because he didn’t like the feel of the fabric clinging to his body. He took your breath away. As you once again stared at him you couldn’t help but let your wide eyes wander all over his chest. He was broad, he wasn’t really muscular but he had a solid build. He was strong and large, and soft in the right places. There were some scars littered over his skin here and there, as a result of the years of fighting to try and stay alive. Some hair was scattered over his body, your eyes trailing along his happy trail, eventually disappearing underneath his jeans. You felt yourself ache between your legs as your eyes continued to roam over his form, studying him with so much intensity. You were still admiring him when he spoke up.

“I’m not really nice to look at.” He mumbled.

Your heart ached at his self deprecated words. You couldn’t believe what he said. How could he think of himself so lowly? You thought he was the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. “W-what?” You said as you shook your head frantically.

“I’m not—”

“Joel Miller, you better stop bringing yourself down.” You said sternly, surprising both of you. You sighed loudly as he looked at you with wide eyes, “I’m sorry. I just don’t understand the need for you to put yourself down when you’re far from unattractive.”

Silence fell for a couple of moments. Until Joel exhaled shakily. “You-you think I’m attractive?” The man asked, he seemed so doubtful.

“I thought that was pretty obvious…” you trailed off shyly as you looked at the tiled floor between your two feet. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious to everyone else.” You chuckled nervously.

You heard him grunt softly before hearing his wet, heavy steps, as he slowly made his way to you. Joel grasped your chin gently, tilting your face towards him. You felt your cheeks burn, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his touch. Your eyes lock with his as he looks at you desperately.

“You think I’m attractive?” He repeated his earlier question more pleadingly.

“I don’t only think you’re attractive… you’re so beautiful. So pretty. Handsome…” you trailed off as you duck your head timidly. “Sexy.” You said apprehensively, before looking away from him. “I think you’re the hottest man I’ve ever seen.”

“I think you’re beautiful as well. The prettiest little thing that has ever walked this earth.” He whispers, his voice coming out a lot deeper. “Words can not describe how beautiful you are. Inside-out.”

You felt your breath catch in your chest as you felt your body tremble at his words. You slowly looked up at him, your eyes wide with curiosity. You couldn’t help but like how he was towering over you. He was so broad, so strong. You felt your face burn, biting your lip and feeling incredibly weak as his gaze stayed locked with yours. You felt light headed at the close proximity. You could barely think straight.

He brought his hands down to your waist, holding your body close to his as he smiled warmly down at you. He whispered your name, breath hitching as he looked at you intently. “Sweetheart…”

You breathed his name softly before his lips connected with yours in a gentle kiss. You gasped in surprise at his actions, but you quickly closed your eyes as he deepened the kiss. Joel’s large hands cupped the side of your face in such a tender way it made your insides melt. Never did you think you’d ever be able to feel his lips on yours. And here he was, kissing you. Your arms wrapped around his back, your fingers digging in his back the action making him grunt. His beard was rough against your soft skin, but was so welcomed. You kissed him back just as deeply, hands stroking up and down his back in a soothing manner.

He held you tighter against his body before slowly pulling away, resting his forehead against yours as both of you breathed heavily against each other's lips.

“I hope that was okay.” He said with a gentle smile. Tears welled up in your eyes as you processed what happened, having a hard time to believe that their kiss really happened. Never in your life were you ever able to keep your heavy emotions in control. Certainly not when you were overwhelmed. His forehead furrowed, concern flashing through his eyes. “What’s wrong Darlin’?”

God, why do I have to get so emotional?

“I am so sorry I just. I feel a bit overwhelmed because I always thought you’d never feel anything for me.” You rambled anxiously and your fingers trembled as they swiped under your eyes. “If you have any feelings for me, that is.”

“Really? I thought it was pretty obvious.” He smiled gently, his hands cupping your cheeks. Softly, he brushed your tears away with his thumbs. “Especially after… you know, kissing you.” He said with a teasing lilt in his voice.

“Yeah maybe…” you shrugged with a giggle, “you do have a point.”

“I do, don’t I?” He smirked playfully.

“You’re so silly.” You rolled your eyes lightheartedly.

“Only with you darlin’,” he winked.

You felt the heat rise in your face once more. You don’t think you could ever get used to his teasing or his flirtatious behaviour.

“So corny…” you snorted as you shook your head with amusement, “you’re lucky I love you.”

You quickly covered your mouth at the realisation that those words were said out loud. Your heartbeat was beating loudly in your chest, as your wide eyes met his. You wonder if he could hear your heart practically beat out of your chest.

His breath hitched in his throat, as his eyes bored into yours. “You mean that?”

Heat overwhelmed your body, feeling as if you’re on fire. Your mouth felt extremely dry, still you tried to swallow, nodding slowly anticipating his next reaction. “I do.”

The molten intensity made you unable to look away as both of you just breathed and stared into each other’s eyes. You felt as if time stopped in that moment, your bodies so close, yet they felt so far. As he held your gaze, he moved his body closer to yours again.

“Joel—” you whispered breathlessly.

He cut you off, kissing you by surprise. Capturing all the words you were about to say. Completely shocked, your whole body froze as you felt his lips claim around yours, hands pulled your face towards his as he kept pressing his lips further, almost to the point it hurt.

All your thoughts overwhelmed your brain, disabling any rational understanding of what was going on. Like a magnet, you felt your body move closer to his, moving your hands around his shoulders as you kissed him back just as fiercely.

You nibbled on his bottom lip lightly, eliciting a moan from him. Slowly, he pulled away from your lips, to press kisses to your cheek. His lips slowly travelled all over your face. You whimper as his mouth moved from your jaw to your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses all over your neck, your hands moved towards his hair, tugging lightly at the roots.

“How long have you been feeling like this?” He questioned, his beard scratching your neck as he continued to kiss your neck. Your body trembled against his as he continued to suck, kiss and lick your neck.

“Hmmm?”

Joel groaned and stopped his actions when you didn’t reply to his question, pulling back to look at your face. You feel his stare, waiting for your response. You hadn’t realised your eyes fell closed as you were enjoying his kisses. Unhurriedly, you opened your eyes, looking right into his.

You swallowed dryly at the intensity behind his eyes, your heart beating madly in your chest. A flare of heat rushed to your cheeks as you decided to tell him the truth. How could you not? When he’s looking at you with so much desperation.

“Like… at least a half year ago?” You answered, your hesitant eyes looking into his own.

Joel groaned loudly, enveloping your lips with his once again. He kissed you with so much passion, giving you everything that had to offer. His mouth moves against yours so hungrily. As he continued to give you long and deep kisses, you felt the heat rising within you. The throbbing between your legs felt unbearable as you whimpered desperately against his lips.

“I love you too baby, so fuckin’ much.” He rasped against your lips.

A gasp left your lips at his words and he deepened the kiss even more, as he quickly took the opportunity to slip his tongue past your parted lips and swirling it around yours. You felt as if your whole body was on fire as you continued to kiss each other ferociously, your fingers raking through his peppered hair.

He grunted as he pushed your body against the wall. His arms wrap around your body, holding your body close against his. You whimpered as his lips travelled from your lips to your throat, nipping at the skin which resulted in you squirming in his hold. Your hands busied themselves with exploring his exposed back, caressing his skin.

He moved his mouth towards your ear, “you have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming about holding you.” He murmured. Joel’s lips travelled towards your shoulder while littering your skin with soft kisses. “Kissing you.” His hands wandered unhurriedly against your back, his hands eventually settled on your lower back, just above your ass. “Touching you.”

“Please,” you whined as you tried chasing his lips again, gripping his strong arms with your hands.

“Tell me what you need, baby girl.” He whispered raspily into your ear. A shiver went down your spine at his words. Joel’s voice carried so much emotion. So much desperation and adoration for you. “I love this baby blue dress on you. Although it’s really killing me right now.” He groans against your neck as his hands finally move to your ass over your frilly summer dress, grabbing a handful of your cheeks.

You felt even more wetness pool between your legs as you thought about the fact that you weren’t wearing any lingerie underneath.

You turned into a bigger whimpering mess as he kept littering your neck, shoulders and face with kisses. You felt one of his legs sliding between your legs, pressing his thigh against your exposed core.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

Joel lifted his head and your eyes caught his, his lips finding yours in a rough kiss, not wasting any time as he slipped his tongue past your lips. The man is wrapped around you completely, a hand caressing your back, the other holding your ass. Your body trembled as Joel started rubbing his thigh against your soaked core. You’ve never wanted someone more in your whole life.

“Joel,” you whined desperately.

“Tell me what you want kitten.” He groaned.

A loud whimper escaped your lips at his words. The pet name turned you on extremely. Your hips moved against his thigh, grinding against the clothed material.

“I want you.”

A string of moans slipped past your lips as Joel moved his head up to lick into your mouth.

“Pleaseee.” You whined against his lips as you rubbed your sensitive pussy against his jeans. “I need you.”

“Fuck, you’re so wet.”

“Ah!” You gasped as he picked you up effortlessly. Quickly, you wrapped your legs around his hips. The both of you continued to kiss each other passionately as Joel carried you to your bedroom. Once he reached your bed he softly placed you down the sheets.

You felt the bed dip before he hovered above you. Joel’s dark eyes stare into yours as his hands move underneath the skirt of your dress, his fingers trailing up your thigh. You felt yourself grow nervous at his touch.

“W-wait.” You whispered.

His movements halt immediately at your words. He looked at you worriedly, “you okay, sweetheart?”

You wanted him so badly and you were extremely wet but you would be lying if you weren’t a bit nervous. Everything seemed more real once his touch moved closer to your intimate parts.

You exhaled deeply. “It’s just… don’t get me wrong, I want this. I literally want you so badly, but I’ve never been with someone intimately.” You said nervously as you waited for his reaction.

“Oh baby girl,” he whispered, looking at you tenderly. “Don’t you worry about that. I will take good care of you.” He smiled as he leaned down to rub his nose gently against yours. “But, we don’t need to do anything if you’re not ready.”

“I am ready, I just don’t want to disappoint you.” You nibbled anxiously at your bottom lip.

“Baby, you could never disappoint me with this. You'll always be a good lover to me. You’re literally perfect. I promise.” Joel smiled gently, looking at you with so much adoration before he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You felt your whole body relax once his lips touched your skin. You trusted him, he was your everything.

Your lips moved to his neck before you placed an open mouthed kiss to his skin. “Please Joel, I need you.” You whispered seductively into his ear.

He groaned loudly before engulfing your lips in a heated kiss. You whimpered against his mouth as his hands started slowly caressing both of your thighs. Your head was clouded with so much lust, you felt so much love for him. Your brain turned quite literally into mush as you continued to kiss each other deeply.

You moved your hips desperately as you moaned against his lips, hoping Joel would get the hint.

“Such a needy kitten.” He chuckled against your lips.

“Only for you.” You whispered as you looked up at him pleadingly. “Please, touch me.”

“I am touching you.” He counters playfully.

“Please.” You whined desperately as you wiggled underneath him.

Moments later his lips pressed against yours again. The kiss got more heated the more you kissed each other. Your hands wander to the back of his head and you pull at some strands softly making him moan into your mouth. One of his hands slowly trailed up your thigh once again. Your whimpers came out more frequently the closer his hand moved to where you needed him the most. Once his fingers come in contact with your heat you mewl loudly.

“Fuck,” he moaned against your lips, you’re certain because he felt how soaked you were for him. “You’re so fuckin’ wet baby girl. All for me?”

You were overwhelmed with warmth, it felt like a hot storm — as he spoke those words. You nodded frantically. You were sopping wet, you managed to speak but your voice is strangled and pathetic. “P-please. T-take off your clothes.”

“And leave you in this dress? Out of question.” He chuckled as he moved the hand that was touching your wetness to your thigh.

“Who said I wanted to stay in this dress?” You said as you raised one of your eyebrows at him.

“Baby—”

“Undress me cowboy.” You smiled as you pulled your bottom lip with your teeth seductively.

“God, you’ll be the death of me.” He groaned loudly.

“My name is Y/N but god sounds good too.” You giggled.

Joel shook his head with an amused grin on his face. His fingertips find the hem of your dress and you sit up a bit. You raised your arms quickly to help him get rid of your baby blue dress.

You felt your body tremble in anticipation, as his eyes roamed all over your naked body, his eyes not being able to stick to one place. You felt your heartbeat picking up as his hands reached for your hips, holding them and pressing your body closer to his. His lips moved to ghost over your neck, slowly moving below your ear. “You’re out of this world. So beautiful.” He whispered into your ear.

His lips then crashed against yours as you gasped openly into his mouth, desire growing, and took it upon yourself to guide his hand back down to your heat. His mouth fell from yours to unleash a heavy groan into your neck at the first slip of his fingers between your wet lips.

It's very, fucking wet, more wet than you'd honestly ever been and certainly more wet than he could've imagined in his wildest dreams.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful sweet girl,” he muttered again in a very raw tone, his voice strained. His lips trail slowly down to your neck, all the way to your chest. Joel breathed in through his nose, you flush harder at his words and shivered when he exhaled warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “The prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.”

That’s all you’ve been given before he wrapped his lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucked and licked passionately, as he also pushed one of his fingers inside your pussy.

The whine that came out of you only drove Joel to seek out more of those heavenly sounds.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He moaned, as your pussy clenched around his digit. “I need to prepare you as much as I can for my cock.”

Your whines became louder as you felt the pleasure overwhelm you. His fingers are so much bigger than yours, one of his fingers is more pleasurable than any of your fingers.

His tongue began licking, long licks with the flat of his tongue over your hard nipple as his other hand kept pumping his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace.

You whined as your core started clenching around his finger, begging for more. Instinctively you began moving your hips, grinding against his hand, as he groaned against your skin. His lips left your breast with a wet pop and he looked at you intensely as he continued to fuck you with his finger. You were panting heavily, barely able to think straight as he slowly slipped another finger inside you. He moved his face back to meet yours, engulfing you in a passionate kiss, swallowing all your little mewls.

“Good girl, you’re doing so well for me.” He panted against your lips.

You bucked your hips up towards his hand in response, silently begging for more. He noticed and slipped a third finger in, moving them slowly at first as your tight pussy tried to adjust to the addition. Little whimpers left your lips as he fucks you slowly with his fingers. You felt so full, you can’t help but imagine him fucking you with his cock, you’re quite certain he’s massive. His pace eventually speeds up as you move your hips along with his movements. His lips moved back to kiss you, whining against his mouth. Your hands clutched the bed sheets as you moved along with the pace of his fingers, feeling him curl them and spreading them.

“That feels good doesn't it baby? You like it when I play with your little pussy? You like me fucking you with my fingers?" Joel moaned and his thumb connected with your clit, rubbing it at the same pace as he fucked you with his fingers. You bucked your hips and nodded as you moaned. "Use your words kitten," he taunts.

“Fuck, yes. Yes, please oh my god. Joel, please.” You writhed against the sheets as you whimpered. “Please keep calling me that.” You bit your lip as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“You’re such a good kitty for me,” he said, a smug smirk playing on his face. You were impressed how easy it was for this man above you to turn you on and make a mess of you.

Joel leans his head back down, trapping your lips in yet another heated kiss. You felt your legs spread even more open for him as you felt yourself get close to your first orgasm of the night. His tongue slipped into your mouth after another gasp fell from your lips. You couldn’t help but moan, whine and whimper as he continued to pleasure you. Your hands wandered to the back of his head pulling at hair softly making him moan into your mouth.

“Fuck, I need you so bad.” He groaned as his thumb applied more pressure on your little nub. He curled his fingers forward with every penetration until your thighs shook.

“I need you more.” You whimpered as your body trembled underneath his.

His eyes stared into yours, lust and love written all over them. When he fastened his motions inside you, you moaned again and squeezed your eyes shut. A burning intense feeling, a tight coil in your lower abdomen made your back arch beneath him.

“Open your eyes for me, my baby.”

You opened your eyes slowly, looking straight into his eyes. His intense gaze was what it took for you to come undone. The hot feeling spread all over your body, your body tingled, your hips moving at their own accord against Joel’s hand.

“You’re doing so well for me angel,” He said proudly as his fingers slowed down, slipping out of you to rub your slit softly, still helping you ride out your orgasm.

As you came back to your senses, you felt his fingers slip away from your heat. You felt your pussy clench around nothing every now and then and were dripping down the sheets, which made you whimper helplessly. You needed him so bad. And now. Joel climbed off the bed, making quick work to remove all of his clothing. You were still in a daze, closing your eyes for a minute. Moments later you felt the bed dip.

You felt your legs being spread further apart with his strong hands. A loud broken moan left your lips at the feel of his mouth meeting your soaking wet pussy. He dove between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance before he travelled up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet muscle and sucking your button into his mouth.

You practically screamed at his actions, arching your back slightly off the bed once again. You felt your body trembling terribly. You needed more. You tried to grind your wetness slowly against his lips as your body continued to shake.

Strong arms were suddenly locked around your thighs, securing your hips with his biceps, holding you still despite your attempts to grind your pussy against his lips.

“You taste so good, baby girl. I could eat this pussy all day.”

You felt heat overwhelm your senses more as you felt Joel chuckle against your heat. His tongue was lapping sloppily at your lower lips. Squeaky, senseless noises came out from your throat. You were squirming, it was so good you could barely even figure out what he was doing with his tongue.

“Fuck, Joel baby, oh my goooood” you cried out loud. You were certain that if people walked outside your house that they would have heard you by now. He sucked lazily at your clit while he moved to slip two fingers into you. Joel eventually sucked harder on your clit, still occasionally swirling his tongue around your little bud while moving his fingers inside you a bit faster. You kept chanting his name between moans as you now hold onto his hair with both of your hands.

“Please, I’m so cloooooose.” You whined.

As Joel sucked your clit harder, you gasped loudly as you felt your whole body trembling even more and then you felt your body tense as you came against his mouth. Your whole mind felt like exploding and all you could see were stars. You felt truly overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you were experiencing. Your body continued to tremble as you felt yourself come down from your high.

You felt Joel’s tongue still licking up your pussy as he retreats his fingers from your pulsing hole. His mouth felt heavenly, but you whined at the sensitivity. He moaned as he licked against your tight hole, licking up your release, his tongue prodding your entrance.

“T-too much.” You whimpered at the overstimulation.

Joel ignored your pleads, moaning against your heat as he continued to eat you out. The man you love so much that was between your legs kept sliding his tongue up and down your sensitive slit. Your little mewls and other noises spur him on, to move his lips back up to your clit. He sucked the nub softly between his lips. You were grinding your hips against his face as moans kept spilling off your lips. This time he didn’t hold you back from fucking his face. Eventually he leaned down, slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curled the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraging him to do it again.

You were a mess of his name, you chanted his name over and over again. Your hips moved against his face as you continued to whimper and moan breathlessly underneath him. Writhing below him, you felt him lick up and press against a sensitive spot inside that had you seeing stars, while your hips bucked against his face uncontrollably. Defiance and greed consumes your thoughts, your fingers once again gripped onto his peppered hair rather harshly and hips pushed against his face to shove his tongue deeper into your hole.

“Ahhh Joeeeeel—” you drag out. You were really so close, you just needed one more little push.

“Come for me kitten,” he whispered against you, before plunging his tongue back inside you as his thumb came up to press against your little bundle of nerves. That does it, your dam broke down as you came against his mouth as your whole body wouldn’t stop trembling. You came with a loud whine, your hips stuttering as your vision turned white. You cry out his name, your voice unable to remain steady. Your fingers were tightly woven through Joel’s hair and your hips pushed so far against his face, you almost thought you were suffocating him.

“You’re always doing so good for me baby, I love you so much my sweetheart.” Joel whispered against you. As you slowly came down to reality again and you tried to catch your breath, you heard him praising you softly while he continued to lap at your wetness gently, until you whined because the overstimulation was getting too much for you. You Nudged your leg against his face as you tried to squirm away from him, Joel’s mouth finally detached from your heat.

He quickly licked the wetness off his lips and the places he could reach before he crawled up to you with a smile, to kiss you deeply, cupping your face in his hands. You moaned at the taste of yourself against his tongue, your eyes fluttering against his skin while you kiss, his wet beard against your face, your arms wrapped around him to pull his body closer against yours. You sighed, against his mouth, you felt yourself melt in his embrace already. You can feel his soft mouth smiling against yours, as the kiss gets more heated.

Soon your hands start to grip his body tighter against yours, your legs tangling together. It's like you're both starved, this insatiable hunger for each other.

You couldn’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his cock. It turned slick as you kept grinding yourself against him, and he had no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.

“Oh, fuck” Joel rasped, and it was because he reached down and grasped himself to line up between your lips and slide. He kept rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you squirm underneath him, and back down. He loved the sounds you made as he spread his precum around your slit, where you are still dripping for him.

You gasped openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You quickly realised by the way he felt while he rubbed against you that he was huge. You were still so wet, but the thought of him finally entering you with his big cock made you wetter. Joel swallowed your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against yours. He kissed you full with fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.

You were trembling against him, filled with anticipation. His broad body covered your body with his. Loving how bigger and taller he was than you. You writhed against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and making you see white.

“Are you ready for me darlin’?” He whispered as he looked deep into your eyes. “Let me know if you want me to stop and I will.” He promised.

You bit your lip and nodded, too shy and excited to talk, as you rubbed your pussy against his dick.

“Fuck,” he grunted, “I need you to use your words kitty.”

“Yes,” you whispered breathlessly.

“I’ll try to go slow at first, okay, sweetheart?” He said before leaning back down to kiss your lips again, he reached down and grasped himself to line up between your lips and slide. He rubbed the tip firmly over your swollen clit then moved down to your wet tight hole and your mind was all over the place.

“P-please J-Joel…” you stuttered as your body trembled even more underneath him.

He rubbed himself up and down your slit for a while longer before one of his hands lean down to spread your outer lips sliding his dick teasingly around your core. You arched your back slightly and whimpered loudly out of frustration.

The moment you want to beg him again he leaned down to line it up with your entrance. Your legs trembled underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. Joel slid the tip in so slowly it was agonising. Your lips part with a gasp. He was careful, like he was afraid you might break. You let out a long broken whine as he gradually pushed more of him inside you. You whined at the stretch of him. He was so big. You thought big was an understatement, he’s huge. Your tight pussy clenched around him as it tried to accommodate his massive girth. Joel continued to push more of his cock inside you. He leaned down to kiss your lips gently as he moved more inside, hoping the sweetness of the embrace will soften the sting.

His hips stilled once he heard you gasp loudly. “So full…”

“Do you think you can handle more?” He smiled tenderly as he looked down at you.

“T-t-there’s m-more?” You stammered with wide eyes.

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly.

“Please,” You closed your eyes and whined as you nodded. You gripped the bed sheets between your fingers as you begged him for more.

“Good girl,” he groaned softly. You thought there wasn’t a possibility to get more wet but as he said those words you felt your heat get sopping wet. Your pussy continued to pulse and clench around his cock as he moved deeper inside you.

Once he bottomed out, you felt his tip kiss your cervix. Joel let his body rest against yours as he allowed you to adjust to his size. You felt so full, as if he was made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely had you seeing stars and digging your fingernails into his shoulders.You felt one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reached up to your face.

His breathing was heavy as you squeezed his cock repeatedly. Small whimpers left your lips as you squirm underneath him.

You needed more.

You slowly opened your eyes to look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please, Joel.”

“My sweet girl needs me to move?” He asked teasingly, as he cocked his head to the side.

“Yes, please.” You begged as your pussy clenched around his thickness rather hard which made him moan. “I need you to fuck me so bad.”

He licked his lips before he nodded quietly and started moving slow and deep, one hand reached down to play with your clit, while the other held your hand tightly. The sting was hurting for a while, but it easily morphed into a more pleasurable feeling as he moved against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he was giving you is mixed between pain and pleasure.

He grunted as he dropped his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin just below it.

“Such a tight pussy,” he groaned.

The angle was so good, but when his pace picked up he finally leaned down to wrap his arms around you, the action made you gasp and you grab at the sheets around you, to fuck you harder and faster.

“You’re taking me so well, baby. Doing so so, good for me. Y-you’re so perfect.” He whispered as he nuzzled his face against your neck.

You whimpered as his lips moved back up to your lips, enveloping them in a passionate kiss. At a certain point you felt the end of his strokes slide into a pressure point in your core that has you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the pleasure he was providing you. A loud noise like nothing you’ve ever made escaped your throat, a strange cry of his name.

“Feeling good sweetheart?” He grunted, a small smirk forming on his lips.

His mouth covered your own instead as he swallowed your mewls, you could feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulled tight, tight, tighter. His lips slid away from yours, wet and swollen and his breathing harsh as he tried to suck in air again, and everything was too much. It was just too much for you to handle.

He quickened his pace, his hips snapped up to yours to a fast tempo. “This pussy was made for this cock, isn’t it, baby girl?”

His hands couldn’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You moaned at the feeling of his speed, your fourth? orgasm of the night, coming so close. Your arms wrapped around him and your nails dig in his back making him groan. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, tingling down to your legs, ready to snap at any moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “You look so pretty when you’re stretched around my cock, Christ I bet you’d look so pretty full of my cum too.”

“Please…” you moaned as you thought about him filling you up. “Please Joel, fill this pussy up.”

He groaned as he buried his face into your neck as he fucked into you, making the whole bed rattle at his force.

“You want to cum sweetheart?”

You nodded frantically at his words with your eyes closed as you bit your lip harshly. He brought one of his hands down, rubbing your clit with enough pressure to ensure you’d cum.

“F-fuck fuuuck, Joel-Joel, oh my god. I’m going to—!”

“Cum for me, my pretty angel. Let yourself go. Cum all over me.” He moaned against your ear.

Your whole body trembled as you came with a loud cry, your body squirming underneath his as you held his body closer to yours, your nails digging in his back, scratching it. That time around, the orgasm felt more intense than the others, you were feeling so overwhelmed by the pleasure. Joel groaned in your ear as your walls spasmed and pulsed around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.

“Fuck,“ he moaned, pushing himself up as he thrust deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “You want me to fill this pussy up? Until it’s all full and messy?”

You nodded vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. Your pussy squeezed around his cock in anticipation. “Please…”

He groaned loudly, as he cummed inside you. The warmth of his seed filled you up and spread within your walls. You whimpered at the feel of his cum dripping out of you.

Once both of you caught your breaths, Joel leaned his forehead against yours before kissing you tenderly.

“Please… stay.” You moaned softly.

“Of course baby,” he whispered before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Want you to stay inside.” You whimpered as your pussy clenched around him.

Joel groaned, wrapping his arms around you before rolling both of you onto your sides. “anythin’ for you, baby.”

“I love you Joel.” You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, enjoying his strong hold on you.

“I love you too sweetheart. You’re everythin’ to me.”

Both of you continued to caress each other’s bodies, whispering sweet nothings, kissing and holding each other until you both fell into a slumber.

Joel caught your heart, promising to hold onto it forever.

[millyrocking]

a summary (with some colorful commentary) of great rivalries: bret hart and shawn michaels

-i have to mention that bret is wearing a black button down that’s open enough for you to see his chest and shawn’s button down has no sleeves.

-bret’s hair has lightened up to a nice honey brown here. it looks good.

- bret and jim liked working with rockers from the start because they were fast and had great athleticism

- shawn thanked bret for being nice abt his past as a rocker.

- the rockers bad behavior was often excused because they were great in ring performers.

-shawn comes off as very anxious to me. i don’t know if it’s because of bret or having to speak about his past behavior but he’s fidgeting a lot.

- shawn always looks to bret when he’s talking but bret looks at jim ross almost the entire time. he glances to shawn here and there.

- bret remembers EVERYTHING. im so sorry but i take his word over shawn’s any time.

- bret: “shawn and marty had that sexy boy kind of look”

- shawn said that the rockers and hart foundation were a good pair up because hart foundation didn’t down them for being small like the other guys did

- bret could do a verbal telling of the history of wwf from 84-95 seriously. his memory is impeccable.

- bret being so upset abt the rope breaking during the rockers vs hart foundation title match — telling the ref and everybody to stop the match so they could fix it

- the match went to hell and bret said it was the first time he was lost in a match — bret was so sick about the rope 😭

- bret and shawn had the first ladder match in wwe history plus fun fact it was bret who brought ladder matches to wwe bc they did them in stampede wrestling

- bret was camera shy when he was starting out in wwf

- the way shawn looks at bret when he’s talking aww he’s locked in

- from 80s to early 90s — bret said it transition from the dinosaurs to the mammals

- bret always gives shawn props on how good he was in this interview which is nice bc i guess shawn really needs to hear that specifically from bret

- before wwf — shawn was taught to destroy rivals and be cutthroat but wwf was more obsessed with how big you are — the bigger you are in size, the more status

- shawn and bret got along from day 1

- it was curt (hennig), bret and shawn as a little trio back in the early 90s

- bret said him, curt and shawn used to play baseball with an axe handle when they had down time 🥺

- bret considered shawn one of his besties, shawn visited his kids (early 90s) — i posted an interview excerpt about this from bret

- it’s scary that back then wrestlers were all drug addicts to varying degrees — bret and shawn have lost so many friendships over drug use and death wow

- bret often went to bat for shawn to upper management— always put in a good word for him to vince

- bret said shawn was one of the best athletes to come into wrestling

- bret always wanted to pass the torch to shawn. it was always in his plans.

- i think maybe shawn was so pissed with bret because he wanted to be bret’s equal in the business and not the guy who’s running behind him to get the baton?

- shawn and bret drew close to each other because they shared a common value: no matter the crowd and circumstance, work as hard as you can

- shawn: “people would be surprised at how many events there were where it was shawn and bret celebrating together”

- while bret was winning belts, shawn was struggling with drug issues — then the kliq formed

- iron man match — bret and shawn were still friends but drifting slowly

- bret liked kevin nash and thought he supported him during his tenure at wwf

- shawn turned babyface and came in bret’s babyface lane — a spark of friction here

- bret felt that him being champion meant nothing to wwf, felt he was a placeholder for someone else to get the belt and felt disrespected because he’s turning out classic matches and getting nothing for it - yet shawn put out less work and gets handed the belt — animosity kinda started there — bret felt upper management wasn’t treating him right even though bret thought he was more over than he ever was

- so bret sorta left

- bret didn’t feel like shawn was interested in sharing the wealth, wanted to keep it for the kliq — told bret he had plans to basically only work w the kliq — shawn doesn’t remember this convo allegedly but doesn’t doubt he said this

- shawn: the futurist — the business needed to get edgier — he’s kinda tony stark coded to me

- bret: the traditionalist — VERY steve rogers coded like i can’t make this shit up 😭

- bret felt he was the leader of the locker room — most wrestlers voiced their concerns to him — bret the den mother

- what kinda pisses me off is i feel like bret never got to be the super megastar that he should’ve been like the rock, stone cold, hulk hogan, john cena were — he should’ve been THE quintessential 90s superstar wrestler (he probably was and since i wasn’t born yet i just dont know)

- hitman fans are an oppressed group. they were always screwing over his character 😭

- bret and shawn choreographed the iron man match together— bret’s so happy abt this match because it went perfectly. went exactly the way they planned.

- shawn called bret the next day or so to thank him

- the 2 min overtime was a work — we should all know that

- shawn’s attitude after the iron man match — pushing earl away when he’s clipping the belt, no handshake was a work

- shawn told earl to get bret the hell out of the ring — bret didn’t have a problem with this, just felt it was a speed thing — just something that came out to get things moving and keep time

- after the match — owen called bret and said the locker room really thinks you and shawn hate each other bc you didn’t shake hands — bret loved this heat because it would create good money for the both of them

- shawn and bret had a convo abt their heat being a work

- bret was proud of shawn’s champion run in 96 — thought he did a good job

- bret planned to throw jabs at shawn when he returned in oct 96 as a work so he could play the bitter and disgraced ex champ who’s coming back to get what’s his

- clip of a fan calling bret a pretty boy (i agree)

- i swear shawn never finishes a sentence. real.

- shawn’s wild asf for saying “stu hart is dead and walked around calgary as if he’s still alive” in 97. im sorry if i were bret id wanna beat his ass any chance i got too 😭

- i think their worked heat turned into a shoot (using all the terminology) in summer 97 bc of their promos — they were talking too much shit about each other it started to get kinda real

- bret negotiated the biggest contract in wcw at the time

- shawn and his “knee injury” — no one believed it and im sorry i dont either 😭 — bret was upset bc he thought shawn was being selfish and putting more work onto the guys to carry the company while he does backflips in his shorts and loafers

- my theory is shawn faked this knee injury to get out of dropping the belt to bret at wrestlemania xiii — probably felt pissed about him having the biggest contract, hailed for saving wwf ratings, being able to take a long ass break (even though technically bret’s previous contract ended) and come back to be top of the card

- but its okay because bret vs stone cold at wrestlemania xiii is a classic — my second favorite bret match — i think him and shawn’s iron man match is my all time fave

- bret said something about shawn’s parents being embarrassed about the playgirl shoot — this set shawn off

- shawn said for some reason he really wanted bret’s pat on the back, his validation and affirmation

- bret thought him and shawn were always on the same page about their fake heat

- bret felt shafted by shawn for the wrestlemania switch, felt shawn let the company down

- all the things bret ever said about shawn was strictly about his character

- bret and shawn would work out what they were gonna say about each other (in 97) and shawn would be like “great 😄👍🏼” but then bret would come back into the locker room and shawn would be like “😢” while everyone was like “great work bret! 😁” — shawn smiles and laughs as bret says this

- bret thought the “pat on the back” that shawn was looking for was incoming, all he wanted to do was build up shawn and make him even bigger than he was. bret knew his time was coming to an end and always had plans for shawn to be his successor but bret admits that he was way too realistic with the heat and it ruined his and shawn’s relationship

- shawn felt that him and his character were one, attacking shawn michaels the wrestler, the kayfabe was attacking shawn the person

- bret didn’t like shawn’s stripping in the ring as a babyface then him bringing kids in the ring to dance with him — bret felt it was wrong — they had a light disagreement here

- shawn didn’t have the capacity at the time to put his feelings aside for business because he felt insecure about his public perception

- bret just wanted to get money with shawn, he feels horrible for damaging the trust between them — didn’t understand how much heat he had with shawn until the sunny days promo

- bret probably wouldn’t care too much about the sunny days comment if his kids and family weren’t asking him if he’s cheating w sunny

- i think the actual start of the real beef was “bret’s announcement” promo where shawn sweet chin musics bret into his wheelchair —- bret went on too long because he couldn’t hear his cue in his headset due to the noise of the crowd so he made them go off air and shawn didn’t get to do the kick before the cameras cut. shawn was LIVID about this bc he felt bret did it on purpose to humiliate him and be able to berate him live with shawn not being able to retaliate.

- shawn says him and bret would have convos where bret would say “just trust me” but felt bret had it out for him and this promo was proof so now shawn was talking the gloves off and refusing to respect bret —- then he did the sunny days promo

- “the cat fight in hartford” as bret calls it came after the sunny days promo

- apparently after all this, they were still on decent terms. (also random fun fact that was not told in this interview: the costume ladies stopped making bret’s ring attire because he beat up shawn in hartford). bret was told him and shawn had a wrestlemania spot (xiv im guessing shawn says he didn’t know that) so he told shawn he had no problem putting him over. shawn said “thank you and i appreciate that but i would never do the same for you”— neidhart and ken shamrock were there

- bret says the next day, he goes to tulsa, ok tv tapings (its crazy that he remembers such details) and vince says bret you have to drop the belt in montreal to shawn but bret tells vince what shawn said about not putting him over

- vince said im gonna get shawn and you’ll repeat what you just said, vince finds him and just says “im gonna put the belt on you shawn” and shawn starts acting fake and praises bret

- so bret did not want to put shawn over because he disrespected him

- one thing that people always get wrong about the lead up to the screwjob that pisses me off is that they think bret had a huge vendetta against shawn and didn’t want to drop to him or anyone, wanted to carry the belt to wcw and he didn’t wanna lose in canada EVER and that bret was being a difficult bitch in the midst of this when bret has said time and time again this was not true:

1. bret had no problem dropping the belt to shawn initially. he was happy to do it but shawn telling bret he wouldn’t put him over is what ruined it.

2. bret had no intention of bringing the belt to wcw ever. he and vince went over many ways that he could drop the belt — on raw, the next in your house, ss. it was never an issue. and he said he would’ve dropped it to ANYONE. so no the screwjob was not a “business decision” like triple h, stone cold and undertaker claim. i could get that it was supposed to be business as in they needed to start the attitude era and shawn was supposed to be the face of the company for that and needed the belt but stone cold could’ve gotten it and have a stone cold vs shawn match and spend more time beefing up dx. drop to undertaker — shawn vs undertaker again in a rematch after that in your house hell in a cell. there were ways. plus the way they went about it kinda breached bret’s contract but thats another post (i could really do a montreal screwjob post if anyone is interested because i know basically EVERY public detail about it now).

3. “ooh bret just didn’t wanna lose in canada!!” okay is that so bad? that’s his biggest audience and home country. plus they don’t run that many shows there anyway so why can’t we let bret have that? also bret said he would’ve dropped the belt in ottawa and where is that? okay then.

-triple h having a say in this decision is very weird to me. hunter said “fuck bret not wanting to drop the belt to shawn. if he doesn’t wanna do business, we’ll do it for him” he egged on the double cross. im also confused as to why shawn and triple h are in the management room like they’re execs and why are we going over finishes without the second party of the match? thats not how its supposed to be done.

-for bret, it was all about respect. for shawn, it was about validation. i just don’t get why it was so important to get it from bret. maybe because bret’s a vet? he knows the business in and out, has played almost every role central to pro wrestling, from a wrestling royalty family — possibly bret not validating shawn felt like a burial of his talent? like the expert who has seen almost all the greats can’t recognize that same greatness in him which makes him feel like he’s not as good as he thinks he is?

-if im hearing this correctly, shawn didn’t know how the double cross was going to go. he knew it was going to happen but not exactly how.

-bret and shawn had a final heart to heart the day of or hours before the screwjob, talking about their problems, how they were fucked up in their connection and trying to reestablish some trust going into the SS match — shawn starts crying a bit here because he feels so guilty about his involvement in the screwjob

-shawn felt he had a huge weight on lap with the decision to carry out the screwjob or change the finish— he said he did what he was told because he felt like a little soldier for the company (for vince)

-shawn said this was easily one of the lowest points in his career

-vince wanted to take full responsibility for the screwjob but shawn is ?? abt that bc shawn is gonna be the one in the locker room and the matches so who’s really gonna feel the heat?

-bret didn’t punch or rough up shawn after the screwjob because he didn’t know if shawn was really involved or not and would feel bad if he physically hurt him while he was innocent. bret said he would feel bad about it for the rest of his life.

-bret had 275 days in his contract for 97 but did 310 days

-bret was devastated about this double cross — bret holds back tears after he says this

-bret felt more betrayed by shawn than vince. he said if it were the other way around and they wanted bret to screw shawn, “there would be nothing they do or say to get me to do that”

- bret categorizes himself as “one of the boys” not a “company guy”

-even after everything, bret still had respect for shawn

-i understand why bret was so absolutely pissed about the double cross because 300 days for 14 years — sick, hurt, missing family, leaving on christmas just for them to say fuck you and get the fuck out

-side note: bret tells shawn canada doesn’t hate you because of the screwjob but because you dry humped the flag

-not to be extra but there’s an interlude here where wwe sums up their lives post screwjob and bret’s section is just absolutely devastating (becsuse his life after really was) — owen’s death, his concussion, his mom died, davey boy died, his stroke, his dad dies after (thats a LOT of trauma over the span of 6 years) while shawn’s section is just like yeah he broke his back but had an amazing, spectacular, spiritually fulfilling journey where like fine wine he got better with time like alright…

-bret says he was so angry about everything related to wwe that he felt like “parachuting in[to raw] with a machine gun”. he wondered how he could arrange it 😭

-tyson kidd told bret that shawn still feels bad about what happened (i think this was 2009?) and wanted to call bret to talk. bret told tyson to give shawn his number. bret waited for shawn to call for a year and asked tyson why he hadn’t.

-the big motivator for bret to reach out to shawn was the wrestlemania xxv match with shawn and undertaker— bret was so proud of him and undertaker and wanted to call shawn to congratulate him.

-shawn didn’t call bret because he was scared (shawn says this so bluntly). he wanted to make up with bret so badly that he couldn’t handle bret being closed off to reconciliation.

-the make up in the ring was very genuine.

-shawn is very torn up about the fact that he didn’t have the ability back then to…not be an asshole. he wished he was a better person and he got a little worked up and choked up about the fact that he was not. it devastates him that his poor decisions and emotional stability ruined his connection with bret.

-shawn also says with the utmost conviction: “for whatever reason, i just wanted bret hart to like me”

- there’s a very cute clip here from the interview day (theyre in some other room) where bret makes some joke, shawn laughs and grabs bret’s arm while bret smiles 😊

-clip of bret and shawn strolling the dock, just chatting

-bret on forgiving shawn: “it pulled this weight off of shawn. it set him free which in turn set me free”

-clip of bret showing shawn something on his phone

-shawn is just so happy to have made up with bret. you could tell he missed him.

-the final line of the interview from jim ross is “hope lives. thank you.” the drama of it all.

[sagesolsticewrites]

No ones written for Curtis yet !! (Masters of the air) if you wanted and didn’t have any ideas, what about they meet at a pub - he’s loud she’s quiet but he charms his way in ? Something sweet to take away episode threes pain

Thank you so much for requesting, I’ve been having so much fun with these Masters of the Air requests! Our boy Curt deserves some love, too! 🥺 And… what Episode Three? I have no memory of Episode Three, all that happened in Ep 3 was our boys had a big mission and then they all 👀👀👀 made it home safe 😇

(Reminder that requests are open! Feel free to check out some of my favorite prompt lists in my pinned post 😊)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

To the Rescue

You thank the bartender with a smile before turning towards your usual spot along the wall, martini safely clutched in your hands. The pub was positively crawling with soldiers— which was exactly the reason your friends had dragged you out of the apartment tonight.

“You need to get out more!” They insisted as they wrestled your hair into something slightly more stylish, Dot digging through her wardrobe for something suitable for you to wear.

“There’ll be plenty of very handsome soldiers there,” she had said, producing the soft blue dress you had subsequently been forced into, “It’ll be good for you to meet someone!”

You settle against the wall, resisting the urge to yank out the pins digging into your scalp, instead taking a sip of your martini as you scan the crowd.

Your friends had seemingly already chosen their targets for tonight— you spot Ruthie chatting to a blonde Brit over by the bar, and Dot had already managed to drag some poor soldier onto the dance floor with her and her two left feet.

Despite what your friends thought, you were perfectly happy being a wallflower. You enjoyed people watching— just as entertaining as normal conversation without the stress of having to contribute, you had once joked.

The theory was proven as you scanned over the crowd, picking up snippets of conversation, stories, jokes… usually coming from a particularly boisterous soldier speaking loud enough to be heard throughout the whole bar with a distinctive accent— New York or somewhere thereabouts, you guessed.

“Hey there, honey.”

Every part of you cringes inwardly at the voice interrupting your thoughts. British, you note immediately, with that hint of bravado that signaled he didn’t much care for your parts of the conversation— he was just looking to show off for his friends.

You couldn’t very well ignore him, though, and you try to hide your exasperation as best you can.

“Can I help you?”

“Well, I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed a bit lonely over here, figured you could use some company. Maybe a drink, maybe a dance…” the Brit grins, and you take notice of the pins decorating both his and his friends’ jackets— RAF boys. Ugh.

“I’m perfectly fine, thank you,” you assure them with the politest smile you can muster.

“Aw, come on,” one of his buddies speaks up, “Just one dance?”

At the clear refusal of that request, the other man that was with them chimes in.

“Or how about I buy you a drink? Seems like you could use a fresh one,” he says, nodding towards the martini glass in your hand— the one that was still nearly full.

“Thank you, but I’m alright, really…”

You attempt to edge away from them, mind racing for a way to politely let them down so they’d leave you alone.

Just then, a thick New York drawl breaks through the unsuccessful attempts at flirting, a welcome relief from the unfamiliar English accents.

“There you are, sweetheart,” the soldier says loudly, leading you away from the RAF boys, “Been lookin’ for you everywhere!”

One arm slung over your shoulder, he leans down to whisper in your ear “Trust me, okay?”

Speaking loudly enough to be heard by the other soldiers, he began leading you to a secluded booth in the corner, “I got us a table over here…”

As you slide into the booth, he turns to the RAF boys with a fierce warning glare and a subtle cracking of his knuckles, unseen by you.

The Brits scramble to find other targets, and the soldier — you still haven’t gotten his name — returns his attention to you.

“I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t overstep,” he says, “You just, uh… seemed like you weren’t havin’ too good of a time over there.”

“No, it’s fine,” you assure him softly, shaking your head, “Thank you, um…”

He seems to realize what you’re waiting for, and sweeps into a bow as he introduces himself.

“Lieutenant Curtis Biddick, at your service,” he says, a cheeky grin lighting up his face. “But everyone calls me Curt,” he adds, straightening up.

There’s a moment of awkward silence as you smile and nod in acknowledgement, and then realize that you have absolutely no idea what to say now.

“…Well,” the soldier— Curt— says, once it becomes clear you’re not going to say anything, “I’ll leave you be, but if those guys bother you again just gimme a holler, yeah? I’ll sort ‘em out.”

“Wait!” You say as he turns to go, the loudest you’ve spoken all evening.

You pray the flush in your cheeks isn’t too visible in the dim light of the pub as he turns back and you say hesitantly, “You can… stay, if you like.”

You gesture to the empty space of the booth, but add hurriedly, “Or if you don’t want to— I’m sure you’d rather—”

“I’d like that very much,” he says with a smile, cutting off your nervous rambling.

He slides into the booth across from you rather than next to you, to your surprise, giving you enough space to feel comfortable.

“So, are you ever gonna tell me your name, or am I just gonna keep calling you sweetheart all night?” He asks, adding a wink to make sure you know he’s teasing.

You tell him, just barely loud enough to be heard over the band, and he grins, testing out the pronunciation. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

Like with most compliments, you’re not sure how to respond until—

“I don’t normally look like this,” you find yourself saying and oh of all the times you had to actually start talking, why did it have to be now? “I mean— my friends decided to doll me up for tonight, but I’m not normally—” You trail off as your mouth finally takes the hint to stop talking now and silently pray for the ground to swallow you.

“Hey, I should ask them for some tips,” is all Curt says, though, and you find yourself fighting off a smile as he rambles on about “wanting to find something for myself, it feels like everyone’s doin’ the same thing these days…”

The way he sighs forlornly, staring out at the sea of uniforms identical to his, is what breaks you, and the two of you collapse into peals of laughter.

You hear your name being called, and turn to see Ruthie — apparently having abandoned the blonde Brit— flagging you down, until she realizes you have company.

“Oh— sorry!” She says, before gesturing to where your other friend seems to have gotten a bit too deep in her cups, “I’m gonna take Dot home. You take your time, though!” She adds, nodding towards Curt encouragingly in her usual unsubtle manner.

You wave her off and tell her to be safe, blushing furiously at the expression on Curt’s face— he looks entirely too amused by Ruthie’s reaction.

“She gonna be okay?” He asks first, though, nodding towards where Ruthie’s leading Dot out the door.

As you assure him your friends will be perfectly fine, he nods, seeming to consider you for a moment.

“You don’t get out much, do you?”

You nearly choke mid-sip of your martini, surprised at his bluntness.

“What gave it away?” You manage to quip once you’ve recovered, waving off his concern.

“Your friend there,” he nods to the door, “I’ve seen my fair share of girls excited that their friend snagged a soldier, but… never that excited.” He concludes with a laugh.

“I guess I’ve always found all this,” you gesture to the room around you: the dancing, the laughter and occasional shouts from the soldiers, the music, “a bit much? I’ve never really been one for parties or bars or… any kind of socializing, really. Ruthie and Dot were plenty eager to get me out of the apartment for once, though.”

“Well I, for one,” Curt says with a crooked grin, “am very glad they did.”

You meet his gaze for a moment before smiling down at your lap, “So am I.”

The two of you continue talking through the night— Curt dominates the conversation, but in a way that you don’t mind; he fills what would normally be an awkward silence for you with jokes and stories, all the while leaving enough space for you to chime in when you feel like it.

The pub empties as the night goes on, and before too long it’s only the two of you and a handful of other people remaining.

You glance at your watch, wincing as you realize how late it’s gotten.

Curt takes note, already moving to stand as if he had meant to be heading back at this hour and asking with a smile:

“Can I walk you home?”

The easy conversation continues on the short walk to your building, and you find yourself on the front walk with Curt, dreading the moment he walks away.

“Wait— I—” you interrupt as he opens his mouth to bid you goodnight, digging in your small clutch for any scrap of paper you can find.

Producing a torn piece of what apparently used to be a grocery list and a small pen, you scribble down your address, holding it out to him.

“Write to me?”

A bright grin transforms his face as he tucks it away in his breast pocket, next to his heart, “I’d love to.”

The two of you simply… stand there in the moonlight, grinning at each other.

Your gaze scans over him, taking in the hat sitting at a jaunty angle on his head, his slightly crooked tie, the equally crooked grin of this boy who took you under his wing for the night.

Summoning all your courage, you rock up onto your toes to press a quick kiss on his cheek.

As your turn to sprint into your building, though, something stops you.

Or more specifically, someone.

Curt reaches out and grabs your hand, pulling you back towards him. You’re the closest you’ve been to him all night, barely a breath in between the two of you.

He scans your face, gaze dipping down to your lips then back up, searching for permission.

At your almost imperceptible nod, he dips down and captures your lips in a surprisingly gentle kiss.

Warmth blooms in your chest, spreading through you down to your toes in the brief eternity his lips are on yours.

He pulls away, remaining close enough that your noses brush as his thumb caresses your cheek.

“Sweetheart, when I get back to base,” he begins softly, “I am writing you the cheesiest, corniest love letter you’ve ever seen.”

His laughter is infectious, and you hope your giggles hide the flush on your face at the mention of love.

“I look forward to it,” you simply say, barely able to speak around the grin on your face.

With one last gentle kiss planted on your cheek, he bids you goodnight, and you float into your apartment, waiting impatiently for a love letter from Curtis Biddick.

[bcolfanfic]

What was the wedding like? I bet Curt was Bucky's best man? Was the bachelor party messy? Meatball was ring bearer??? LOL

#young vets au

first of all s/o to @swifty-fox who came up with a good chunk of these. i've been so focused on poor bucky's mental breakdown that quite honestly a part of the "they get married on paper and say they'll have a wedding...eventually" was me putting off figuring out that lore LOL. but here thee go.

they start planning it after bucky is out of the hospital and doing better. gale brings it up first- and bucky is so 🥺. obviously gale never asked for a divorce but, he still feels a little insecure about things/how much he put him through. so knowing gale *does* still want to marry him good and proper makes him a lil emotional. sweet boy.

they try to surprise each other with engagement rings and end up clashing with each others surprises bahaha. me thinks gale gets bucky a celtic eternity knot ring. bucky gets gale something like this.

big crowds/travel is still a bit of a rough spot for bucky, so it's in wyoming. in my mind they have a hugeee backyard. so cutesie homey backyard wedding it is.

curt is 1000% bucky's best man. that's his best friend and curt (this hasn't really been explored a great deal yet but it will be) quite frankly did about as much for him during his big ol breakdown spiral as gale did.

hmm idk who gale's is. choose your own adventure, its whoever you want it to be.

wearing their air force dress uniforms comes up briefly but bucky hates it so it’s tabled. gale asks the guys not to wear theirs either.

all the guys come into town, of course they do. they're *so excited* not just because it's their buddies getting married but bc this is the first time all of them except for curt and kenny have seen bucky in person since his attempt. so seeing him so happy and doing better makes them happy.

demarco does indeed bring meatball.

i think since they essentially share all the same friends they have a joint pre-party a few days before. maybe the first night everyone is in town. a reunion party of sorts.

i need to do a hc list explaining all the curt/kenny lore as it exists in my head but this is maybeee the first time everyone is seeing the two of them since they aren't (badly) trying to keep that they're involved on the downlow. which everyone gets a kick out of just as much as they do bucky and gale.

both of them cry during their vows.

and, my favorite thing @swifty-fox and iame up with last night:

i know its hinted at in a few of the phone povs about bucky wanting to get sober but in my mind that's closer to when they have josie. so when they get married there is alcohol abound (lol). and gale, because hey it's his fucking wedding after all- partakes this time.

he sees bucky playing with croz's kids in the yard and gets so emotional because he just loves him so much, wants that with him and now they *can* have that together even after everything they've been though.

curt sees this and is like awww, i see that look buck! and sweet drunk gale just starts blabbering about how he's gonna put babies in him- he's gonna figure it out, JSTOR hasn't failed him yet.

to demarco, who is running around with his camera, this is the best moment of his life.

asks gale to run that by him one more time with the camera in his face.

"i said, you see my husband over there?" gale says seriously into the camera, holding himself up on curt with one arm around his waist and gesturing to where bucky is deep in drunk conversation with kenny "'m gonna figure out how to put babies in him. JSTOR hasn't- hasn't failed me yet. gonna figure that shit out and we're gonna have more kids than- than croz n' jean."

[ghost-train-to-strawberry-fields]

Day 42 of posting random Tears for Fears photos

[fanaticsnail]

Ohh, Snail, now I can't stop thinking about you writing that Corazon x AussiReader idea from the fanart you rebloged. Poor sweet baby 🥺 dealing with giant spiders and cute feral angry koalas, nooo, Cora, don't try to hug them, they may look cute, but they will eat your face 😱

Rosinante's Trip Down Under

Masterlist Here

Oh my goodness, Miss Vita! How gorgeous is it, though? Art by @rainnartt (CHECK OUT THEIR OTHER ART, IT'S AMAZING!!)

Synopsis: Modern AU, Rosinante visiting your hometown in Queensland Australia. He is overwhelmed by the cultural differences, but loves to learn the slang.

I did go a little crazy in the tags, definitely ran away with me a little here.

Could you imagine, though? As an Australian, I can confirm: if it looks like it can kill you, it can kill you. If it looks like it can’t kill you, it absolutely can kill you. Our poor, clumsy man never stood much of a chance, did he?

In this picture, he looks like could be in Bondi, the Gold Coast or Surfers Paradise by the looks of it. I am going to put him in the Queensland region for the sake of the plot. This is how I see it going. 

Drabble Fic Word Count: 1,800+

Themes: rosinante x gn!reader, platonic fic, crack fic, modern au, reader is Australian, Rosinante is Spanish, Au he lives.

Tag list: @since-im-already-here @i-am-vita @feral-artistry @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @remisloves @mfreedomstuff @gingernut1314 @cinnbar-bun @carrotsunshine

Taking your new friend Donquixote Rosinante to your favorite sights in Surfers Paradise. His eyes widen in wonder, staring at sights that come so naturally to you, but are so out of the norm for him. You are happy to play tourist in your hometown, marveling at the sights as he experiences them for the first time. 

Outside of your local McDonalds and picking up a common comfort breakfast food for his adult adoptive son, who elected to remain back at home in the hotel as he adjusts to the time difference, Rosinante’s shriek prompted you to turn to meet him.

“What the hell is that?” he remarks, extending his pointer finger towards the large waste bin adjacent to the doorway.

“Oh, that’s a skip, Corazon. The red is for rubbish,” you continue, pointing at the other bin, “The yellow lid is for recyclables, and the green is for food and biodegradable-.”

“No! The thing with the massive beak!” he shrieks, watching as the dark-head bird pokes its head above the bin. The large hooked beak elevates a half-consumed cheeseburger before it gulps down the burger in a single motion.

“Oh!” you laugh at your blonde friend, clapping a hand over his shoulder, “That’s an ibis. We call them ‘bin chickens’ or ‘tip chooks’ depending on your region. They’re scavengers, they won’t hurt you.”

“A bin chicken, skip bin,” he hums, his brow furrowed in deep thought as he commits the name to memory, “And you call McDonalds ‘Macca’s’, right?”

“That’s right,” you hum your confirmation with a curt nod. He hums in response before ushering you along the pathway towards the hotel. 

As you continue walking along the sandy coastline, you notice he’s halted outside a petrol station. A large truck is parked beside the building: checkered blue and white painted on it’s side and large font titled “POLICE” and “0.05: DRUGS”. 

“Is this your local law enforcement?” he asks you, tilting his head to the side. 

“Yeah, that’s our local booze bus parked next to a divvy van,” you nod in affirmation, “They do regular drug and alcohol testing for drivers to ensure their safety on the road. Weird that they’re outside of a servo, though. Usually they’re on the main roads.” He nods his head and hums.

“Booze bus. Divvy Van,” he looks over to the petrol station, arching his brow high, “Servo?” 

“I know, it’s a lot,” you confirm with an apologetic smile, “I promise it gets easier to adapt to the slang the longer you practice.” He nods again. 

Passing a local park with a children’s play area, you manage to see your friend David from work, his two children playing together on the looped climbing frames and plastic slide. 

“Davo!” you call out to him, waving your unoccupied hand in front of you - considering the other contains a paper bag filled with the fruits of your labor. 

“How the bloody hell are’ ya goin’, Darl’?!” his nasally voice cracked to you, “Who’s the fella ya got there with ya?” You smile at him, walking to embrace him.

“This is Rosinante Corazon, the friend I mentioned was visiting from Spain,” you informed him, “How’s the missus back at home? How’s the kids?”

“Mate! Howzit goin’?” he extended his hand out to Rosinante, who placed his hand within and gave it a gentle shake who mumbled a soft ‘pleased to meet you’ in response.

“Ah, and the ankle biters are doin’ great. Givin’ the missus a bit of a reprieve here at the park, tough gig bein’ an ambo driver.” He glanced over his shoulder at his children, ensuring they were safe now they’ve climbed to an elevated height. 

“Oh I’m glad she’s managing to take a break. She’s a tough lady,” you nod to him, smiling over at the two children who wave at you while playing with a make-shift telescope. 

“Well, I shouldn’t keep you,” he confesses, gesturing down to the brown bag clutched in your hands, “Don’t want that brekky gettin’ cold now, do we?” You laugh at him, waving him off before waving at his children. 

Rosinante remained silent, only muttering a few words that stood out to him: “Darl’, fella, mate, missus, ankle biters, ambo driver, brekky,” on a perpetual loop.  

“You okay there, Rosi?” you quirk up at him, a soft smile pulling at your cheeks. 

“I’m alright, Darl,” he attempted, his voice falling to his nose and emulating the accent he heard moments prior, “Is that a common term of endearment here? ‘Darl’ and ‘mate’? How do you go with gender neutral titles?”

“Both of those titles can be used interchangeably, regardless of gender,” you inform him, “It all depends on context and the way you say it.” he hums again, nodding along and muttering several phrases he learnt. He reaches into the circular cup cardboard and pulls out his coffee and takes a small sip. 

Your feet finally carry your way over to the lobby of the hotel where he was staying with Law, his body immediately halting in front of the surf, dive and ski shop. His head cocked to the side, staring at the large, rectangular basket outside the shop. You follow his line of sight, which remained locked on to a large, canvas sign attached to the basket. 

“Ah,” you click your tongue, noticing they’re focussed on a common shoe worn in this area, “Do you and Law need a new pair of thongs? I know the bottoms melt a little when the bitumen gets a bit hot.” 

“You want me and Law to wear what?” he turned towards you with his eyes wide and jaw dropped. It took a moment for you to understand the miscommunication, your eyes growing wide and your nervous laughter propelling your anxiety further. 

“No, no, no, no, no!,” you managed to choke out, “No, we call ‘flip-flops’ ‘thongs’ here. Is that what had you a little confused? A basket full of shoes where you thought lingerie should be?” Rosinante laughed alongside you, shaking his head from side to side.

“You got me,” he chuckled, raising his coffee to his lips once more, “Our differences are quite vast, aren’t they?” 

“I suppose they are,” you acknowledge with a shrug and a broad, tight-lipped smile. He hums once again, muttering several phrases as you step into the elevator. 

Clicking the button to the appropriate floor, the doors open wide to reveal the carpeted corridor of the hotel room. You offer to hold the coffee tray in your unoccupied hand as Rosinante clumsily attempts to fish out his key-card from his pocket. He thanks you, his hand getting stuck in his pocket as he shimmies his shoulders to break it out. 

Finally clutching the key card, he places it in the door and swings it wide to reveal Law sitting on the plush bench beside the large window. His left knee was bent, his right leg extended as he reclined against the window. His gray orbs draw away from watching the gentle crash of waves towards you both as you enter the suite. 

Before you had a moment to greet the younger man, Rosinante’s broad grin and best nasally voice interrupted your train of thought. Rosinante gently took the brown paper bag from your hands and offered it to his son.

“Howzit goin’, Darl’! Brought you some Brekky from Maccas!” he walked forwards, thrusting the bag into Law’s hands, “Saw a bin chicken eating some scraps from the red skip, and passed a booze bus outside the servo on the way back.”

Law chose to remain silent, wordlessly taking the brown bag from Rosinante and maintaining unbreaking eye contact. Rosinante took that as his queue to continue relaying his adventure. 

“Saw Davo being a good fella at the park with his ankle biters, his missus has been working hard as an ambo driver,” he continued, biting his lip as he attempted to relay the trip back to his absolutely unamused son, “Then we passed a shop on the way up. Was gonna get us a pair of matching thongs for the trip, but thought you would get embarrassed to be matching with your Dad.” 

Law’s fingers stuttered their descent into the bag, choosing to take a lengthy breath instead. 

“Dad?” Rosinante quirked his head up, turning to look at you over his shoulder. You were doing your best to stifle your laughter by clutching your lip in your palm, “Do you still call parents ‘mum’ and ‘dad’ here? Is there an Aussie term of endearment he could use for me instead?” 

“‘Cunt’ comes to mind,” Law murmured, prompting Rosinante to snap his head back over to his son. His heart shattered as Law drew up a hashbrown and began nibbling at its golden exterior. 

“L-Law-?” Rosi’s heartbreak was depicted in the quiver in his tone. You walk over to your friend’s side and offer him his forgotten coffee with a smile.

“-Rosinante,” you broke him away from his sorrow with a soft giggle, “‘Cunt’ is also a term of endearment here. Law and I had a little conversation about cultural clashes last night when we were playing cards. You fell asleep early, remember?” 

“It is my favorite Australian term of endearment,” Law admitted with a soft hum, reaching up his outstretched hand to wordlessly ask for a coffee, “But your insults are far better. Quite original.” 

“Okay, Champ,” you mock Law, passing him his cup of coffee, “Big words coming from a guy with a face like a smashed crab.” 

“Coming from a Drongo with the personality of a dropped meat pie,” Law smirked in return, taking the cup from your hands. Your joint laughter ricocheted from the hotel walls, prompting Rosinante’s prior sour mood to pick back up. 

As you all ate your brekky in comfortable silence, you gazed out onto the beach below. Law followed your eyes, looping at the large swell of the waves. The choppy waves crashed against the golden waves, the vendors beginning to set up their canopies to sell their wares along the boardwalk. 

“You did well, Rosinante,” you complimented the tall, blonde man, “Using our words in the appropriate context, I mean.” Rosinante smiled at you, placing his paper rubbish in the brown paper bag.

“Thank you, Mate,” he said with a soft wink, “I appreciate the praise for my efforts.”

“No wakkas, makka,” you smile at him with a shrug. Both men quip their head up, their ears pricking and confusion written on their face. 

“We’ll get into that later, I guess,” you chuckle at the two of them as their confusion deepens.

The large Australian crowd began to take out their surf and boogie boards, set up nets for volleyball, and their wickets for beach cricket. The variety of populus below in various designs bathers, placing sunscreen on their bodies to protect from the deadly UV rays. 

“Beach day?” you ask them, smile drawing up over your features once more.

“Beach day,” Rosinante nods in confirmation, excited to learn more slang and cultural differences as the day broadens its rays over the oceanic backdrop. 

[booigi-boi]

Would love to know your favorite Joey character (also love the way your draw him)

Aw, thank you 🥺🐐🐇💛🤍

But my fav Joey character? Yeah, I guess I can turn this into a mini show and tell, lol 👍

From Starkid: Ted Spankoffski, which is kinda obvious. Is he a terrible person who deserves the title of "Most deaths in the Hatchetfield series"? Absolutely. Is he still my blorbo? Absolutely 👨🐐

This man has no shame and I love seeing him die anytime he appears in a HF story ✨

From Tin Can Bros: Scrags, but mostly because I am unable to rewatch SAF more than once a year, cause it gives me such slaps in my face after act 2 starts that I am emotionally unable to watch it (/pos ofc, I just can't go through sleepless nights over gay spies anymore 🥲)

So sorry Owen lovers, I just like this depressed dog dad more (Especially after the Grunch, go watch it 🐕❄)

From Shipwrecked: Easily Ernest Hemingway, no debating, lol. Funnily it's mostly cause I love his costuming/design, like this brown on brown on brown is really speaking to the artist in me, ugh 🔪🤎🥃

(Also, I own the jacket, and Joey said it's cool I own something he wore and get to make look cool again, but it's so goddamn big on my 5 foot self,,,,,,)

✨Honorable mentions✨

Sergio's design from the SAF Kickstarter, just look at this boy, peak villain Joey design 💣💼

Dash Gunfire, who I've named most of my plushies after and have a crack theory about 🐇🤍🐇🤍 (He and Agent Curt Mega are related. No I won't elaborate, iykyk)

Tripp, the Brom's Babe who is definitely the most dramatic of the three 💞 (Also, I love these three in general??? Let them be gay and do crime and be probably terrible wing men to Brom) (Someone also ask me about all the headcanons I have about them, there's a lot)

Dracula Joey

I JUST LOVE ANYTHING DRACULA RELATED, OK?? ESPECIALLY IF IT'S RELATED TO THE BOOK! IDC IF HE ONLY APPEARED FOR 3 SECONDS, HE'S A REAL CHARACTER TO ME ❤🖤🧛‍♂️🥀

[allfoolsinluv]

Closer

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: You and Joel grow closer after you arrive in Boston.

Word Count: 5.4k

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Minors DNI.

Warnings: canon-typical violence/death, assault, lil bit of angst, lowkey pining, getting together, fwb-to-lovers, soft!Joel Miller, alcohol consumption and drug use, explicit sex (fingering, unprotected p-in-v, f receiving oral, lil bit of consenual somno, dom/sub vibes, dom!Joel, sub!reader, teasing, rough sex, spit play, come play, dirty talk like WHOA, soft aftercare, i thiiiiiiink that's it idk i might have missed something bc there is A LOT here ok)

A/N: ok so i saw this gifset and the last gif took me OUT then I heard Closer by Nine Inch Nails on tik tok and my inner whore took over and she wrote this. The chokehold this man has on me is REAL and MIGHTY. anywho my first pedro boy fic! huge huge HUGE shoutout & thank u to @pedrito-friskito for looking this over for me 🥺💗 luv u bby

masterlist

Things between you and Joel had started out simple enough.

You’d met him not long after you’d arrived in Boston, during your first shift disposing of infected bodies. He kept to himself, not interacting with you beyond a curt nod of acknowledgment when you introduced yourself at the beginning of the day. But you hadn’t missed the way his eyes stayed on you throughout your shared shift. His gaze was curious, almost, like he was studying you. You hadn’t blamed him for it, even though he did kind of make you feel like a bug under a microscope; you were a newcomer, and newcomers often meant trouble. He hadn’t seemed like the type of guy that took too kindly to trouble.

The next few shifts you’d spent beside him went much like the first. He’d barely speak to you—if he even spoke at all—and kept an eye on you as you worked. As your time in Boston went on and as you continued to work more shifts with him, the intensity he watched you with seemed to lessen. For whatever reason, Joel Miller decided you weren’t a threat.

He’d warmed up to you after that, as much as it was possible for him to warm up to anybody. He would no longer ignore your greetings, offering you gruff heys and hellos. He’d sit with you in silence whenever you were allowed to take a break from working. He'd even started to walk you home after your shifts. When you'd asked him why the first time it happened, he'd told you that your apartment was on his way home. You wouldn’t have called yourselves friends, per se, but you both were definitely more agreeable with each other than you were with anybody else in Boston.

He was with you the first time you saw a public execution take place in the city center. One of your neighbors had been caught outside past curfew one too many times, an offense she would pay for with her life. You hadn’t known her very well, but hearing her name be called out and watching her life end before your very eyes was enough to break something in you. You’d been delusional to think that things on the inside were going to be any better than they were on the outside. 

Joel watched you watching your neighbor hang, taking note of the way your eyes widened and your breath drew short at the sight. When her body stopped flailing and the life had finally been drained from her, he placed a rough hand on your shoulder. When you startled at the contact and turned to look at him, he nodded his head in the direction of your apartments.

“Come on,” he’d said. You’d simply nodded in response, following him out of the crowd and away from your dead neighbor.

The two of you walked side-by-side in silence, not much different than when he’d walk you home any other day. When you got to your apartment building, though, he didn’t stop like he normally did. He kept walking until he realized you were no longer next to him.

“You coming or what?” he asked, head cocked and a hand on his hip. You’d looked between him and your building in confusion.

“This is my apartment.”

“Yeah,” he said as he approached you once again. “But we’re making a stop at mine first. Got something for you.” 

The thought of Joel Miller having something for you sent a flurry of nerves and butterflies swirling in your stomach. It’d been so long since you had any kind of companionship, it was nice to be thought of by someone else. You tried not to let your emotions show as you nodded your head.

“Okay, then. Lead the way.”

You weren’t sure what to expect when Joel had told you he had something for you, but whiskey and some pills weren’t it. Not that you were going to complain about them, though—it’d been too long since you’d had or done anything to turn your brain off. He didn’t say anything as he poured each of you a glass and put a pill in your hand. You’d swallowed the pill and the whiskey in one go. Joel poured you another glass without question.

The two of you sat in silence for a long while, side-by-side on his couch as you drank. The whiskey had burned as it went down your throat and settled into your stomach. It felt good.

After you’d polished off your third glass, you put the cup on the table in front of you with a heavy sigh. You sunk back into the couch and closed your eyes, saying softly, “This place is a fucking nightmare.”

The feeling of Joel’s hand on your thigh made your eyes pop open. You’d looked down at his hand on your leg, your breath hitching at the sight. When you looked up, you found him already looking at you, the pain in his eyes evident. “It is.” 

You fucked for the first time on his couch that day. The whiskey and the pill and the vulnerability had loosened you both up enough to just let go. He’d pulled you into his lap, shoved his hand into your jeans, and made you come on his fingers before he pulled your pants down your legs and fucked every thought out of your head. 

When it was over, after he’d made you come again and pulled out to finish in his fist, you’d climbed off of him and sat back, catching your breath. He’d cleaned his hand off and silently reached over to help you pull your jeans back into place. He’d stood from the couch and held out a hand to pull you up. It went without saying that he’d walk you home.

It went on like that for a while. Whenever things became too much for either of you or the thoughts in your heads got too loud, you’d find each other and drown out the noise with whiskey, pills, and sex. It was far from romantic—you never stayed long after it was over, it was never soft or sweet, he’d never even kissed you —but it didn’t need to be. There was no place for romance in the world you lived in.

Things changed, though, the day you were jumped and nearly left for dead on the street.

It’d been one of the rare days in which you worked a shift without Joel, the availability of jobs just not lining up to pair the two of you together. You were cutting it close to curfew, the sun steadily setting as you made your way back to your apartment. You were only a couple of blocks away from home when it happened.

You hadn’t noticed you were being followed until it was too late. Large, rough hands grabbed your body and pulled you roughly into an alleyway. You tried to push the guy off, swinging your elbow back into his gut, kicking your feet out to throw him off balance. It was no use, though—he threw you to the ground, hard, as if you’d weighed nothing to him.

You hit the ground with a huff, the shock and pain of it dulling your reflexes enough to allow him to get on top of you before you could pull yourself up and scramble away. You finally saw his face, the light gone from his eyes as he gripped the lapels of your jacket and shook you.

“Give me your ration cards, bitch,” he seethed at you. You didn’t even know this guy and here he was, shaking you down as if you owed him something.

“Fuck you,” you spat in his face. 

He hadn’t taken too kindly to your disrespect, letting go of one side of your jacket to punch you in the face. The feeling of his knuckles connecting with the skin of your cheek and taste of blood on your tongue made you groan. He’d pulled his arm back to throw another punch, but before his fist even had the chance to come into contact with you again, the weight of his body was thrown off of you.

When you’d looked up at the scene unfolding in front of you, the last person you’d expected to see was Joel. There he was, on top of your attacker just like he’d been on top of you, delivering blow after blow to his face. You’d never seen him like that before, lost to the violence, although you’d known he was capable of it. It didn’t scare you like you might’ve thought it would. It was almost comforting, in a way, to know what he’d be willing to do to protect you.

Just when you’d begun to think that Joel wouldn’t stop until the man was dead, he’d grabbed him by the collar and brought him close to his face. “If I ever see you around her again, you’re a dead man. You understand me?”

Weakly, the man had nodded his head, a wet cough bubbling out of his throat. Joel released him roughly as the man spit up blood onto the asphalt below him. He turned to you, the fury leaving his eyes in an instant as he took in your disheveled state.

“Fuck,” he grumbled, rushing over to help you up. You stood with a wince, grateful he was letting you rest most of your weight against him as he held you and guided you out of the alleyway. “Need to get you off the streets before curfew.”

He guided you to your apartment, getting you both inside and locking the door behind you with just a few minutes to spare. You plopped down onto the couch with a groan while Joel grabbed your bottle of whiskey and the only rag you had to clean up your busted lip and the cut on your cheek. It was silent as he worked, save for the initial hiss of pain you’d let out when the alcohol first touched your open wounds. He was gentle with you, gentler than you thought him capable of.

When he finished, he dropped the rag onto the ground and cupped your face in both of his hands. The two of you had stared at each other for a long moment before he’d sighed, leaning forward to place his forehead on yours. Your eyes had fluttered shut as you felt his breath fan out against your face, your hands coming up to take ahold of his wrists.

“I should have been with you,” he whispered roughly. You shook your head at that, opening your eyes to find his screwed tightly shut. He kept talking, “I was outside your door, waitin’ for you to get back, but when you didn’t show up, I knew something was wrong. I should have just fucking been there to walk you home, to keep you safe.” Your hands moved up his arms to the back of his neck, your fingers tangling lightly in the curls of his hair.

“You were, Joel,” you whispered back, his eyes opening to meet yours, seeing the sincerity in them. “You saved me. Protected me. You were there when I needed you.”

He kissed you, then. He pulled you in close to him, softly pressing his lips to yours, mindful of the cut there. Your eyes had closed again, and you couldn’t have stopped the soft whimper you let out at the feeling of his lips against yours even if you had tried. 

Sex with him was different that night. He carried you to your bed and stripped you slowly, taking in the sight of your body underneath him. He hadn’t been rough or hard or fast. It was soft and almost syrupy sweet, the way he held you and made you come apart with his fingers and his cock. His lips never strayed too far from yours, as if the thought of not kissing you while he fucked you was too painful to bear. You hadn’t minded it, though—you’d felt the same way.

When it was over, he cleaned you up and helped you re-dress. After he put his own clothes back on, he crawled back into your bed and pulled you into his arms, pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head as you slowly drifted to sleep with your head against his chest. As you fell asleep, you knew in the back of your mind that things between the two of you would never be the same come morning time.

You became his and he became yours.

Nearly eight months had passed since that night. Now, you’ve abandoned your apartment for someone else to take over, having moved all of your meager belongings into Joel’s place. You spent most of your little free time there anyways, and he felt more at ease knowing that you were coming home to him, instead of by yourself.

It’s a rare day in which neither of you were able to pick up a shift, all of the work slots for the day having been filled before either of you had gotten a chance to sign up for something. Not that either of you mind it, though—sometimes it’s nice to have a day off to spend together.

Joel, apparently, has been planning on making the most of your day off. He wakes you up with his tongue between your thighs and his hands holding your hips down on the ratty mattress. You come quickly, nearly reaching your peak while still half asleep, and the force of your orgasm hitting you fully wakes you up. He places soft kisses to the insides of your trembling thighs, looking up at you with an almost boyish glint in his eyes as you huff out a soft laugh.

“Well, good morning to you, Mr. Miller,” you say with a smile, one of your hands drifting down to cup his cheek. 

He grins at you—a rare sight these days—as he turns his head to place a wet kiss to the inside of your palm. “Mornin’. Nice wake-up call?”

“The best,” you giggle, moving your hand up into his hair and giving it a tug. He groans at the feeling, his eyes going a little glassy. “Now come up here and kiss me.”

You don’t need to tell him twice. He moves up your body, placing soft nips and kisses to your skin over the thin t-shirt you’re wearing. When he reaches your mouth, you kisses you fully and deeply, wasting no time in letting his tongue trace your bottom lip. You open up to him eagerly, moaning into him at the feeling of his tongue against yours. 

He kisses you until you can’t breathe, only pulling away when you tug harshly on his hair. A thin string of saliva connects your lips to his, and he watches with rapt attention as your tongue pokes out to wipe it away. When his eyes finally flick back up to reach yours, you hit him with a playfully questioning glare.

“How’d you get my pants off without waking me up, anyways?”

He grins at you again as he grinds his own denim-clad hips down against yours, the rough material catching against your clit just right to pull a soft, needy moan from your lips. Joel bends down to kiss you again, laughing softly when you chase his lips as he pulls away.

“I have my ways, darlin’.” He plucks at your shirt and asks, “Can I take the rest of it off now?”

With a nod, you lift your arms above your head, allowing him to pull the fabric from your body. Once your shirt is off and on the floor, Joel moves to unclasp your bra, but you playfully swat at his hand and shake your head.

“Nuh-uh, you gotta take somethin’ off first. You’re wearing too many clothes.”

Joel rolls his eyes at you but complies with your request, deftly unbuttoning his shirt and pushing both his jeans and his underwear off. You can’t help but bite your lip at the sight of him, gloriously naked in front of you. His cock is hard and flushed red, a pearl of pre-come beading at the tip. You sit up on the bed, preparing to lean forward and take him into your mouth, the thought of tasting him practically making you drool. He stops you though, pushing lightly on your shoulder until you’re laying back down, allowing him to crawl over you once more.

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles, mocking your earlier tone. “Now who’s wearing too many clothes?”

You huff and quickly remove your bra, throwing it to the ground with the rest of your discard clothes. Once you’re finally fully naked, you try to reach out and take him in your hand. He’s faster than you though, taking both of your wrists in one of his and pinning them above your head. 

He bends down to nudge your nose with his, angling your mouth just right for him to kiss you. It’s so sensual, the way he easily slips his tongue into your mouth and takes your breath for his own. You could kiss him for hours. He pulls away and starts to pepper soft kisses across your cheek and down your jaw, until his lips reach your ear.

“I’ll give you what you want later, baby, I promise. I’ll put my cock in your pretty little mouth and let you suck your fill,” he rasps into your ear, the roughness of his whisper and the promise of his words sending a shiver down your spine and whimper out of your mouth. “But that’s not what I want right now. D’ya wanna know what I want?”

He sits up to look at you, his pupils blown wide as he takes in your trembling figure. You let out a soft yes as you nod your head.

“Right now, I wanna feel your pussy come all over my fingers. Then, when you’re nice and wet and fuckin’ gagging for it, I’m gonna slide my cock inside of you, real slow, and fuck you until you cry. When you just can’t take anymore, I wanna pull out and come all over your pretty tits. Can I do that to you, darlin’? Will you let me?”

You’re uncomfortably wet, can feel your slick practically leaking out of you and sliding down to wet the sheet underneath you. The arousal his words have stirred up in your belly is nearly unbearable, and you almost headbutt him with the force in which you nod your head.

“Fuck, yes, Joel, you can. You can do it all, whatever you want.”

He chuckles at you and leans down to kiss you again, quick and dirty. “Barely even touched you, and you’ve already gone cockdumb. My needy girl.” His eyes flick up to where he’s still holding your hands above your head. “If I let you go, are you gonna behave?”

“I’ll be good, Joel, promise,” you say quickly. 

He nods once and lets go of your wrists, looking pointedly at you to make sure you keep them there. Once he’s sure you’re not going to try and get ahead of yourself, he lets himself touch you. His rough hands drag down your arms and to your ribcage, his thumbs lightly stroking your skin. He slides his palms up to cup both of your breasts, his thumbs now working over your nipples in light strokes. The moan that you let out would have embarassed you if you weren’t so turned on. You start to squirm as Joel gets a little bit rougher with you, but you obey his silent command to keep your hands where they are.

You almost grab at him when he leans down to take the hardened bud of one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling sloppily around it while he rolls and pinches the other between his fingers. You catch yourself at the last second, though, stopping yourself from winding your fingers into his hair.

Joel lets go of your nipple with a lewd pop and kisses his way back up to your mouth while his hands slides down your body. He takes your bottom lip in between his teeth at the same time he cups your pussy, sliding his middle finger through your wet folds. He chuckles darkly at the way your hips buck against him and how you struggle to keep your hands where he told you.

“Messy girl,” he murmurs against your cheek, pecking you there. “Let’s see if I can make an ever bigger mess a’ya.”

“Fuck,” you gasp as he easily slides two of his fingers inside of you. Your cunt clenches at the feeling of him working you open, his fingers move in slow, even strokes.

“Feels good, don’t it, honey?” Joel teases. “You like the way I fuck you with my fingers?”

You whimper in response, nodding your head weakly. He angles his hand to rub against the spot that nearly knocks the breath from you, his palm grinding against your clit. Your back arches off the bed with a hoarse shout of Joel’s name. He groans against your skin at the way you tighten around his fingers.

“Oh fuck, Joel, please,” you whimper, trying to move your hips in time with his fingers. He uses his free hand to push you back down against the bed, keeping you from moving further. Joel leans down to nuzzle your throat, nipping lightly at the delicate skin there. He looks up at you, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Please what? Use your words for me, honey.”

You can’t help the whine of frustration you let out as you squeeze your eyes shut. It’s hard for you to find words when he’s fucking you so well with his fingers.

Joel slows his fingers nearly to a stop and your eyes pop back open in a panic. His face is stern as you rush to say, “Wait, no, no, no, please, don’t stop, I—”

“Use. Your. Words. What do you need?”

You take a deep breath and nod your head. “Can I touch you? Please? I promise I’ll be good, I just… I wanna feel you.”

Joel smiles at you now, leaning down to place a quick kiss to your lips. “Hands in my hair, honey. Keep ‘em there, understand?”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice. As soon as the words have left his lips, you’re tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him down to kiss you again. It’s filthy, all tongues and teeth. Joel starts to move his fingers inside of you again, gradually picking up the pace until he’s back to his original speed. You moan into his mouth, your brows furrowed in pleasure.

You can feel your orgasm building in your core, the coil winding tighter and tighter as Joel’s fingers work inside of you. Joel pulls away from your lips, letting you guide him to rest forehead against yours. It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open, but you force yourself to, wanting to watch the way he watches you. He looks almost as far gone as you feel.

“I can tell you’re close,” Joel rasps. “Your pussy’s squeezing my fingers. Can’t wait to feel you do that around my cock. You gonna come for me, sweet thing?”

He starts to move his fingers a little faster, rubbing against you a little bit harder. The extra friction tears a sob from your throat. You can’t help the way a few tears well up in your eyes, the pleasure Joel is giving you bordering on overwhelming. Your orgasm is so close, your body tightening against him while your thighs starts to shake from the sensation. You nod your head, a whispering chant of yeses falling from your lips.

“Go on then, baby. Come for me.”

Joel's words send you over the edge, coming hard around his fingers and pulling almost painfully at his hair. Your moans are obscenely loud, and if you had any wits left about you, you’d be embarrassed by your volume. But you don’t and you’re not. The only thing you care about in this moment is the feeling of Joel’s fingers working you through an earth-shattering orgasm, the pleasure flowing all throughout your body. You don’t even notice the tears that have fallen from your eyes until Joel’s kissed them away.

You whimper as Joel slowly pulls his fingers from you once your body has settled back down and your breathing has returned to normal. You release the grip you have on his hair, letting your hands drift down the sides of his neck to curl around his shoulders. He holds his hand up for you to see, his fingers wet with you. You watch, mesmerized, as he spreads his fingers, your slick webbing between them.

"Look at what a pretty mess you made of my hand," he murmurs as his eyes move from his fingers to you. "Better clean it up, yeah?"

Silently, you nod your head and Joel begins to lower his fingers to your mouth. He starts softly, running his fingers along your bottom lip, coating it with you. When your mouth falls open with a pant, he takes the opportunity to push his fingers inside, rubbing along your tongue. Your lips close around his fingers with a whimper, relishing in the groan he lets out as you suck them clean.

He’s panting almost as hard as you are by the time he pulls his fingers from your mouth. You can tell he’s reached the end of his rope, has worked himself up almost too much teasing and playing with you. He takes his cock in his hand, hissing as he strokes himself a few times.

“Gotta fuck you now, honey,” he says roughly as he lines himself up at your entrance. 

“Please, Joel,” you whimper, attempting to lift your hips to pull him into you. “I want it. Please.”

Joel practically growls as he pushes into you, not stopping until he’s buried to the hilt. Your nails dig sharply into the skin of his shoulders, your back arching off the bed and a broken moan falling from your lips. Joel is big, and no matter how much he preps you, how wet he makes you, the feeling of his cock pushing inside of you is always overwhelming.

“Fu-uck,” you gasp, your walls clenching around him. His breathing is ragged, and you know it’s only a matter of seconds before he loses control and fucks you within an inch of your life. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. He meets your eyes, takes in the way you can barely keep them open, how your mouth is open as you try to catch your breath, the way your lips are a little swollen from the kisses and bites he’s given you. When you sluggishly blink back him and give him a blissed-out smile, he’s done for.

He pulls out nearly all the way before snapping his hips forward, hard, the force of it making you yelp and cling to him even further. The pace he sets is brutal, and you feel your body moving up the mattress with every stroke. Joel grunts above you, reaching one hand down to grip your thigh and pull your leg up higher on his torso. It allows him to hit inside of you even deeper, almost impossibly so, the change in angle making you clench around him.

“Jesus, fuck, you’re—” Joel grits out from behind his teeth, cutting himself with a shout when you clench around him again. “Fucking hell, you’re squeezin’ me so damn tight.”

He trails his hand from your thigh and up the side of your body, the feeling of his hand moving against your skin making you break out in goosebumps. His hand grips either side of your jaw, and with what little brain power you have left, you’re captivating by how big hands are. 

Your train of thought is broken, though, by Joel’s face coming closer to yours. You think he’s holding you in place to kiss you, but instead his fingers squeeze, forcing your mouth open.

“Stick your tongue out,” he pants at you. When you don’t comply right away, his order taking a moment longer than it normally would to process in your brain, he squeezes you harder, nearly snarling, “Now.”

You stick your tongue out and when you do, Joel leans down and spits into your mouth. Your eyes go wide at the feeling of it on your tongue, a wrecked moan slipping out. He lets go of your jaw and instead shoves his fingers back into your mouth, his digits moving in time with his hips. You gag a little on his fingers, a few more tears building and falling from the corner of your eyes in quick succession. 

When Joel pulls them out, a trail of your spit connects his fingers to your lips. He grumbles a rough “fuck,” before moving his hand down to where your bodies are connected. His spit-slick fingers begin to rub fast circles against your aching clit, the shock of it making you shout and tighten around him.

“Jesus fucking christ, Joel,” you cry out. “Fuck, don’t stop, please, I’m so close.”

“Not gonna stop. Need to feel you come around my cock. Come on, baby. Let me have it.”

“Yes, fuck, I’m gonna come,” you moan with a nod. Your orgasm had been building steadily, each of Joel’s rough thrusts dragging perfectly against your walls to send you higher and higher. With his slick fingers now on your clit, you felt you could snap at any moment.

Joel must’ve felt it before you did, yours walls tightening like a vice around him, making his hips stutter and pulling a low groan from his chest. Your whole body tenses up beneath him, the air knocked from your lungs, before everything releases. The waves of pleasure rolling through your body are intense and overwhelming, a wailing moan falling from your lips. You’re practically sobbing beneath him, unable to hear him talk you through it over the pounding in your ears.

He works you through it as best as he can, only managing to stay inside of you for a few more thrusts before the feeling of your fluttering cunt becomes too much for him. He pulls out of you abruptly and takes himself in his hand, working his cock as he lets your legs fall back down to the bed and quickly shuffles up your body to straddle your torso.

“Look’it you, all pretty and fucked out for me,” Joel grunts, his fist working his cock faster and faster. “You always take me so well. Let me use you how I want. God, you’re fucking—” His hips stutter and he moves to grip the base of his cock as he lets go, coming over your tits. You moan as the feeling of his warm spend hits your chest. A flicker of arousal lights in your core at the sight of him marking you.

“Perfect,” he finishes with a groan, stroking himself a few final times. When he’s milked his cock dry, he turns and flops down next to you on the bed, gathering you into his arms and pulling you against him. He doesn’t care that his come hasn’t even finished drying against your skin, that it’s getting all over him. All he wants right now—knows all you need right now—is for him to hold you in his arms. He leans down to press a few soft kisses to the crown of your head.

The two of you are silent for a while, taking the time to bask in the after glow and let your hearts and breathing return to normal. You snuggle down further into Joel’s chest, feeling your eyes growing heavy with fatigue. You blink slowly a few times, letting them fall shut.

“You fallin’ asleep on me, honey?” Joel asks you, the soft rumble of his voice lulling you even further.

You hum wordlessly, too exhuasted to try and formulate a response. His soft chuckle jostles you a little, but he settles quickly, pecking your head once again.

“Get some rest while you can, baby. ‘Cause it’s still early, and I ain’t done with you yet.”

It’s going to be a long day off for you.

[lightlycareless]

I'm sorry for sending you a lot of ask 😭😭😭

I found this one tiktok vid and i want to share it with you

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSFWmwA37/

I imagine this with naoya and naomi 🤭

Hello!!

UGHHHHH I CAN'T BELIEVE I TOOK TOO LONG AND NOW THE VIDEO ISN'T THERE JESUS 🤬😭😭😭😭

But I remember well what it was. It was essentially a daughter receiving her father (dress up as a princess) giving him a rose, and he's really moved by the gesture :')

And of course, my version of it :3 Thank you so much for waiting for me 🥺💖 And I'm sorry it took me a while to reply :'( but I still hope you like it!

warnings: none. fluff. Naoya loves his family.

Happy reading!

Dressing Naomi up comes as one of your many attempts to show how much you appreciate Naoya and all the things he’s done for his family.

You do it quite frequently, whenever possible (and as secretive as you could—you don’t know how he manages to always figure out your surprises! Could it be the bank statement?) for there’s no one else that knows better than you about all the things he’s had to sacrifice to do his duties.

But up to that point, you really hadn’t involved Naomi—outside of phone and video calls, photos here and there of the cute outfits you’d put her in for the day or places you’d visit with her, her participation in such gestures is often limited.

Perhaps it’s because she was still too young and there wasn’t much that she could do besides well, being cute and existing.

However, now that she was a bit older, 3 years to be precise, Naomi had become a bit keener to help you out! And such, your mission to do something father-daughter related begins.

It took you a while to settle into something that would wow Naoya (far more than the usual)— at first you considered dressing her up as his favorite character from that one anime you recalled he particularly enjoyed—Neon Genesis Evangelion.

But complications would arise soon enough, beginning with Asuka’s hair color which you initially thought easily fixable with a wig… until realizing it was too itchy for your poor baby, at one point she simply gave up, swiftly pulling it off her head and throwing it away.

The other option that ensued was temporarily dying it, but you wouldn’t dare ruin her precious dark hair, never!

So, you ruminated on your options. Continuously wondering what kind of surprise would blow away Naoya, far more than the others!

…

…

Why not go dressing her up as what she was? A title that once belonged to you, but now you were more than happy to pass down onto your daughter: A princess.

With a cute pink, puffy dress, little pink flats and of course, those chubby cheeks that lightened up with her toothy smile! Accompanied by her now classic two ponytails always adorned with ribbons. She’s just gotten enough hair for you to style her like that, so there’s no way you weren’t going to take advantage of it!

And finally, but not least, her pacifier. The eternal struggle of whether to slowly start detaching her from it or let her keep it for a bit longer always plaguing your mind.

Her doctor says it’s ok if she keeps it for a bit longer, she’s still around the age where kids use it…. At the same time, she tells you to not fret too much—you and Naoya had unwittingly become the type parents that ask her just about anything regarding Naomi’s safety, continuously worrying that the slightest action might harm her to the point where she had to remind the two:

“She may be a baby, but she’s still capable of doing things.”

Well, the pacifier will remain then, a pink one to match her dress!

“Are you ready, mochi?” you ask after adjusting the last details of her dress, Naomi responds with a curt nod and the serious look on her face she always had whenever sucking on her pacifier. It’s as if she was determined to do so, and nothing else! How adorable! “Now remember, when papa arrives you gotta run to him and hug him! Hug him as tightly as you can and never let go! He’s been away for so long and misses us terribly——so be sure to remind him how much we love him, ok?”

Naomi didn’t need to be told twice to know what she needed to do, for her sentiments aligned exactly with what you told her. The video calls were not cutting it anymore, all she’s been wanting now was to see her papa again and be pampered by him!

So, when the fateful day arrives, you and Naomi eagerly stand by the entrance, giddily waiting for the moment his car drives past the gates, subsequently steps out it and heads over to the two to be promptly received with a big kiss from you, and of course, a tight hug from his baby daughter.

But more than that, you wanted to see the kind of reaction he’ll have upon noticing his baby all dressed up as the princess she is. The culmination of all your efforts to make this father-daughter moment happen!

And thankfully, it was all that you imagined, if not more.

Naoya’s heart was always a mess whenever he knew it was time to come home. There mere thought of seeing his family again, especially after weeks of absence, was enough to have him in a frantic state.

It was almost impossible to believe that the always level-headed Naoya, the collected, assertive heir had sweaty hands when driving back to the estate. Something that began when he saw the familiar trees of the nearby forest appearing on the horizon, worsening at the sight of the gates he both loved seeing when returning, loathed when leaving.

In just a matter of minutes he’ll be walking onto the estate, to his home. But even when it was nothing that he had to wait, he couldn’t do it. Naoya couldn’t take it anymore—He needed to see his family, now, which he knew were anxiously waiting for him on the other side of those doors!

So, before the car even came to a full stop, Naoya swiftly prompted the door open and jumped out, ignoring the nearby staff which asked him to be careful and heading straight towards the loves of his life, to embrace them and shower them with his affection—

Only for Naomi to win him to it, dutifully obeying your request by bumping into him first, a small pink flurry tightly holding onto his leg and snuggling against it, her way of telling him welcome back!

Naoya tried his hardest to not pass out at the sight of his adorable doll-like daughter tackling him, though he later thought that if that was the way he’d leave this world, then it wasn’t that bad.

Of course, he wouldn’t desire that, for there is nothing more than he wished than to be with his family right now.

“Princess!” He eventually manages to exclaim once snapping out of trance, a wide smile, slightly teary-eyed look on his face as he swiftly scoops her up and places kisses all over her cheeks—something she would’ve gladly accepted per usual, if it weren’t ruining her look! Naomi soon tries to push him away, effectively letting him know of her discontent. “Oh dumpling, what’s wrong?”

“You’re ruining her makeup” you giggle, walking closer to the two and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Makeup?” He repeats, leaning a bit backwards to get a better look at her face, smiling when noticing what you meant.

From subtle glitter on her eyelids, to a tint of blush on her cheeks (not that she needed it anyways, she was naturally rosy most of the time) Naomi was fully committed to the role of princess, naturally. And of course, it made her look even cuter. Though you and Naoya knew she didn’t need much to look good, for in your eyes she was perfect.

“Ah, I didn’t mean to ruin it, pumpkin.” He chuckles, kissing the top of her head as an apology. With this her frustration ceases, completely succumbing to his embrace. “You’re very pretty, as you always are—did mama dress you up?”

Naomi shakes her head, you and Naoya laugh.

“Ah, so you chose this yourself?” She nods. “You have good taste then, as expected of my daughter.”

Naomi’s eyes glisten, flattered by his words as her cheeks warm up before hiding her face at the crook of his neck, seemingly embarrassed. Naoya likes that she reacts just like you whenever shy.

“Did my princess miss me?” He asks, she nods again. “I missed you too, very, very much.”

“Welcome home, Naoya.” You finally say, stepping on your toes to give him the customary, much necessary, kiss on the lips which Naoya gladly reciprocated—unless Naomi was to protest, feeling left out and demanding she’d be included. “But you were just kissed, pumpkin! I need a bit of papa’s kisses too.”

Dejectedly, Naomi ends up relenting… for now.

“It’s good to be back.” Naoya smiles, taking in the warm company of his wife and daughter and what it represented: he’s finally home. “You don’t know how much I missed the two of you.”

“We can imagine—we missed you so much too.” You respond. “Specially Naomi, she’s been nothing but talking about you!”

“Really?” Naoya breathes, imagining her cute babbles intertwined with papa’s here and there—and how much he wished to hear them! “Then I guess a reward is due. And thankfully, I brought enough toys for that.”

Naomi’s ears perk at the mention of toys, as they always do, followed by a prompt attempt to escape his grasp and reach for the back side of the car where she expected them to be.

Her father would’ve not wasted anytime at this point to give her such gifts, for her reactions were always endearing to see…

But first, there was something else he needed to do.

“Actually, my love, can you hold Naomi for a second?” Naoya asks you with an uncharacteristic shyness, followed by a subtle redness forming in his cheeks that naturally has you growing inquisitive.

Until seeing him take out his phone, that’s when it became clear what he wished to achieve, and thus, continued to happily do what he requested.

“Naomi, look at papa.” You say, softly gesturing at the lens. The way Naomi quizzically looked up at him made his heart swoon, unwittingly giving him the perfect shot.

It’s rare to see Naoya taking the initiative when taking pictures, he just… never liked doing so. Made him feel embarrassed by it for some strange reason, but you never pushed him about it; and why would you? He did enough for the two! Surely one thing he didn’t want to do would be ok.

Instead, you gladly took on the role of designated photographer, the one in charge of captivating these moments and subsequently sharing them with Naoya for him to take as a reminder of home when away.

But this was too cute to pass up that no amount of shame could make him lose this opportunity. And such, after taking his phone out and focusing the camera on his wife and daughter, he takes a picture: the one that would become his new wallpaper, replacing an equally adorable picture for an even better, newer one. Showing how much his daughter has grown.

“Thank you so much, pumpkin.” Naoya coos, proceeding to take Naomi from your arms and giving her another kiss on her soft, round cheeks. Naomi sighs, accepting his gesture as she closes her eyes, letting him continue peppering her face. “I don’t know what I would do without you in my life. I love you.”

“Hmm!” Naomi whines, her version of the same words, which makes Naoya melt as well as remember why he’s doing all this for.

Why he spends days, weeks, if not months away from his home, sleepless, dangerous missions where the slightest mistake could potentially lead to his death…

To see his family happy, warm, fed, safe.

Things that he would do over and over again, forever if needed, just to see them smile.

And there you have it!! More fluffy moments between our favorite family 💖 gjkasjgkasjg whenever I get asks involving Naomi and Naoya I smile, I really, really like enjoy writing things for them. Even though I get angsty sometimes hahaha

Well, once again, thank you so much for sending me this 🥺💖 I'm a bit sad that the video isn't there anymore, or maybe it's an error from my part? AAAAA ANYWAYS 🥺 I'm happy with this. And don't worry, you can send all the asks you want :> .... I might just take a while to respond with all them requests💀

Once again, thank you so much. Take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[bigtreefest]

💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐

Ransom looks around the store before turning to you, "I really don't get what we're doing here, Essie."

"Well, Ransom, I've had a horrible day. Week, really, so we're here to help me relax."

"But it's a men's clothing store."

"Yes," you nod. "We're going to pick out the softest, cuddliest sweater for you to hold me in all night. Also a hoodie that you're going to wear all day tomorrow so I can wear it the day after."

Ransom stops at that. "My scent helps you relax?"

You nod, "and your touch, especially when paired with a soft sweater. Now let's get shopping!"

Ransom will be reluctant to admit it, but the fact that you want to cuddle up to him melts his heart a little.

💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐

-Zombie

Ohhhh, Zombie. 🥺🥺 this is perfect. Especially with it being on the heels of my mom telling me I’m “going to have the most well-dressed husband one day” due to my likes of men’s clothing she never lets me purchase😔 I’m biiiiiggggg on hoodies and sweaters. And every time one catches my eye that isn’t in the women’s section, I get a curt “no”

But shopping with Ransom??? A dream. I just know I’m gonna wanna buy everything bc he looks so good, but this is about being cozy!!🥺 we’re most definitely going for something super duper soft with a quality knit. I want it to last forever so the two of us can do this routine forever. And then look back upon the nostalgic pieces of clothing. It says something that he’s indulged me this far without question.

I’m absolutely loving his surprise at how much I love his presence, too. I just know he smells soooo good. And me? Melting his cold heart? 🥹🤭 I wanna hold him and never let him go. But I guess that’s what I’ll be getting tonight😌↕️

Thank you so much for this @thezombieprostitute it truly is just exactly what I need. So sweet of you to send. I lub ya 💗😘