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emisprocrastinatingbywriting · 9 months ago

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Alone and Forsaken

Chapter 5 Summary:

You wake the next morning to find Joel gone, your heat now lighting up every nerve ending in your body. Meanwhile Joel, sent into a frenzy by your unexpected visitor, works to fortify your position. After slicing his hand on a piece of barbed wire, he returns to the cabin only to be met with a sight that has his knees weak. Can Joel keep his distance?

Warnings: Bad dreams, brief mentions of past abuse/violence, reader has a fucked up past y'all, heats, hurt/comfort, and SMUT, sooo much smut (Minors, DNI please)

A/N: Howdy y'all! I hope all of you have had an amazing week :) Things are heating up (no pun intended) between you and Joel. But first, a nightmare about reader's time in the pit. As always, take care of yourself first! Trigger warning for the dream but you can scroll through the first bit if that bothers you. Moving forward, major smuttyness brought to you by yours truly, enjoy!

Chapter 5/20

Chapter 5: Hunger

“You know, your mother has been worried sick about you for the past two months.”

The light that framed Josiah’s figure was blinding and you squinted at him as your eyes struggled to adjust to the light. The room that they had been keeping you in was windowless and dark, with cement walls being your only company aside from the guards for the past few weeks. Or was it months? The days blurred together as you wasted away in the pit, the cold hard floor soothing your aching bruises as you tried to keep a hold of your sanity.

“I guess I should have expected as much, the guards told me that you haven’t been answering their questions no matter what… techniques they use,” he mused, moving forwards into the cell.

You scooted back, trying to put as much distance between you as you could. Your back hit the wall and you wrapped your arms around your knees, watching as Josiah crouched down in front of you. His pale blue eyes raked over your figure, a look of disgust turning down the corners of his mouth. Josiah sighed, shaking his head before grabbing your face. His bloated fingers pinched your chin and you tried not to wince, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you were uncomfortable.

“When I took you and your mother in, I had believed you to be a little angel. You were always so sweet as a little girl but the second you presented, I knew that you would be trouble. Always sneaking off with that other omega, defying your mother and I and speaking out of turn,” he tsks, pinching your face until you groaned in pain.

Josiah let go of your face, pushing your head back so that it smacked against the concrete behind you. A sharp crack of pain made tears begin to form on your lash line, and you tried your hardest not to let them fall as he sneered at you. Josiah stood, towering over you for a moment before moving back to lean against the wall across from you.

“You know what I said to myself the last time you gave me cheek? I said, Josiah, that girl needs an alpha. A strong one like yourself to keep her in line, someone who keeps the faith and does not spare the rod. Lord knows she needs a good whooping every now and again,” Josiah said.

A laugh came out of your mouth before you could stop it, the sound broken and hollow from the dryness burning your throat. After the physical punishments had failed, the guards had begun to starve you out. You didn’t even remember the last time you had anything in your system but you knew it was too long as your stomach pinched itself and grumbled for food.

Josiah cocked an eyebrow at you, glaring down at you before he said, “You will be mated to Paul. He will keep you in line and get you back to the Lord’s embrace. That is not up for discussion. The only question is when. If you give up everyone who helped you leave, then I will let you go back to your husband and the two of you can solidify the bond as God intended.”

“He is not my fucking husband, I never said yes at that stupid ceremony,” you seethed.

“No, but I did, and I am your father. Omegas don’t get a say, you know that. Now, I’ve talked to Paul and luckily he’s willing to forget your little runaway act. He said he would chalk it up to typical hysteria and let it go, as long as you humble yourself and be the good little wife that you were made to be,” Josiah said calmly, barely acknowledging your outburst.

“I. Am. Not. Your. Property,” you said, ennunciating each word as you scowled at your stepfather.

Josiah laughed, reaching back and knocking at the wall behind him. A group of guards crowded the doorway and looked towards him, clearly waiting for some sort of instruction.

“Oh I know you aren’t my property anymore, you’re a married woman now. But unfortunately for you, sweet daughter, your husband has been wronged. You owe him a debt, and you disappeared before he could collect. Now, it’s my job as leader in our community to right wrongs, which means sometimes I have to remind people of their place,” he spat before turning and murmuring something to the men in the doorway.

Two of the guards moved forward and grasped your arms, dragging you upwards as you thrashed. Josiah just stood there chuckling as the guards struggled to keep you from getting away.

“Don’t worry, you’ll learn soon enough,” he said before he focused on the guards trying to wrangle you, “Throw her in the sweatbox, see if that jogs her memory at all.”

“NO!,” you screamed as they yanked you down the hall, tears pouring down your cheeks at the thought of the cursed space.

The sweatbox was infamous within the community, tales from those that survived it becoming a powerful deterrent for everyone else. After being thrown into it three times since your capture, you understood why. Unbearably hot and cramped, the tiny room felt like you were confined on the surface of the sun. You begged the guards through your sobs, remembering the smell of your depleted body and how you had to sit in your own filth for days before they dragged you back to your cell. The guards paid no attention to your cries, barely even looking at you as they shoved you into the room.

“PLEASE! NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS!,” you screamed.

You pounded on the metal door, feeling claustrophobic already in the room that gave you just enough space to sit with your knees folded into your chest. Sweat had already begun to trickle down your back from the heat. You jolted back, the peephole suddenly being ripped open. Josiah’s eyes met yours from the outside, his gaze unwavering and cold.

“I hope you confess your sins soon child, before Paul comes to me to inquire about a new mate,” he snapped.

“Please,” you begged, all of the fight in you depleted from fear.

“Repent or he’ll have no use for you. Sinful omegas beget sinful pups, you’d be wise to remember that. I’d hate to have to comfort your mother because your husband decided he wanted a more… accommodating wife,” Josiah warned, his voice low and daunting.

Before you could respond to his threat, he slammed the peephole shut, leaving you blind in the dark heat once more.

A gasp escaped your lips as you shot up, sweat pouring down your face as your damp clothes clung to your frame. Your eyes wheeled around the room as you tried to remember where you were. Bookshelves, carvings, a guitar, the worn sofa and throw blankets. You sighed as you remembered that you were with Joel, you were safe. Josiah was dead and Paul? Well, hopefully he was dead too.

You wiped your brow, the sweat still dripping from your hairline and you tried to calm your racing heart. Standing, you started towards the bedroom in search of Joel but a sharp pang from your core had you dropping down to your knees in front of the couch. You whined, clutching your stomach as a bright and pulsing ache screamed at you from your core.

“Joel?,” you croaked, suddenly feeling very vulnerable.

No answer.

Where was he? You tried to call out again but another wave hit you, forcing wetness to drip down your quaking thighs. You looked down and groaned, realizing what was causing the storm brewing under your thin shorts.

“JOEL?!,” you cried out more urgently, now needing him for an entirely different reason.

When no answer arrived, you braced yourself on the couch before stumbling into the bedroom in search of him. Leaning into the wall for support, you inched towards the door as waves of slick soaked through your bottoms. Finally making it, you pushed the door open only to be met with the smell of something sharp and sterile. You stood in the doorway, bewildered at the smell of cleaning products.

And then it all came back to you.

The man grabbing you, the struggle, breaking away and throwing the vase in his direction, ripping at his hair as he tried to push his grimy hands up Joel’s shirt, being dragged down the hallway as you wailed and fought, him climbing on top of you and you beating at his chest as panic overwhelmed you, him raising his hand to slap you before he was torn away.

You stared at the floor, remembering how Joel had defended you. You listened when he instructed you to go, but you had only made it about halfway down the hall before you stopped. A sense of protectiveness had shot through you, what if Joel needed your help? What if the man got the jump on him? You had turned on your heel and crept back into the room just in time to watch Joel snap the neck of your attacker. You hated to admit it, but as you watched his hulking frame tower over the other alpha, a twinge of desire had sparked from your core before you remembered the ordeal that you had just been through.

Now, with the body gone and nothing left behind besides the stinging scent of lemon, the memory made you feel weak. Joel had protected you, he had provided, he had even comforted you afterwards and covered you in his own scent. You groaned at the thought, forcing yourself towards the bed. Flopping down, you expected to be greeted by the usual aroma of Joel only to find clean sheets devoid of the alpha.

You cried out, shoving your face into the covers and trying to find any trace of him, but it became clear that he had stripped the bed after disposing of the intruder. Your core burned, sending painful jolts of desire as panic began to needle its way into your chest.

Moving on autopilot, you ripped open the door to the closet. Stooping down, you collected all of the stolen clothes that you had been hiding from Joel. You shoved your face into the worn fabric, whining at the smell before dumping them on the bed. Tearing into the living room, you collected everything you could, bringing back every blanket or pillow that smelled even remotely like him. You even snagged the bath towel that hung in the bathroom for your pile. Semi-satisfied, you went to work, adjusting the items just so before your instincts signaled that the nest was complete.

You sighed, feeling slightly less panicked but still nervous at Joel’s absence. You wondered briefly if you should go find him but the jolts coming from your soaking folds were enough to dissuade you of the notion. Instead you crawled into the center, cocooning yourself in Joel’s musk as a fresh wave of slick had you shimmying out of your clothes and flinging them to the floor.

Grabbing at one of his well worn flannels, you breathed in his scent before shoving it in between your legs. Any sense of shame long since gone, you keened as your pulsing clit rubbed against the harsh fabric. You thought of Joel cutting the wood, of him providing for you so well, of him towering over the man, of him sucking at your neck, of him calling you his. You rocked your hips against the flannel, your clit catching on it and sending sparks up your spine as you tried to imagine it was Joel that you were rubbing yourself against.

As you ground your hips down hard, with thoughts of Joel swirling through your mind and your heat growing in intensity, you tried hard not to let his absence worry you. Instead you focused on the friction building and the pleasant smell that overwhelmed your frantic senses.

- Joel -

“Fuck,” Joel hissed, a sharp sting erupting from his hand as he caught his flesh on the wire.

Holding it up to examine, Joel watched as his blood began to trickle from his rough palm down to his rolled up sleeve. He cussed again, sighing as he tore a strip from the t-shirt hidden under his sweater. As Joel wrapped up his fist, he took a moment to focus on his breathing. Trying to calm his pounding heart, he tried not to think of what was waiting for him back at the cabin.

Joel had woken that morning confused. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept without having his cruel memories jerk him back to consciousness. He had slept peacefully for the first time in a very long time, but his neck was fucking killing him. He groaned, cursing himself for getting so old. Lifting his head from the soft pillow that cradled his face, Joel propped himself up on his elbows.

It took him a moment longer to notice you as his eyes adjusted to the early morning light that poured in from the windows, but then he did. His breath caught in his throat as he hovered over your sleeping form, watching your calm face and how your skin glowed with a light sheen of sweat. Looking down, Joel’s eyes widened as he realized where his face had been buried. A drool mark darkened the fabric across your chest, and he groaned as the fragrant air tickled his nose. Peppermint and lavender made his mouth water and his cock stir to life.

Joel suddenly became very aware of how close he was to you. Your legs framed his hips, one hand loosely grasping the curls on the back of his head and the other laid upon his shoulder. He could feel the twitching in his pants responding to the feeling of your heated core against him, the wet fabric staining his jeans. It took everything in him to keep himself from grinding up against you.

Joel imagined the gasp he would pull from your mouth as the seam of his jeans brushed against your throbbing clit. He imagined the way your eyes would blink open, squinting from the sun for a moment before zeroing in on him. He imagined grinding down against you once more, just to hear you moan, before capturing your soft lips. He - Fuck.

Hips jerking back, Joel broke himself from the fantasies that were making his dick throb and leak into his jeans. He needed to get it together before he worked himself into a rut, your fever already clawing into the base of his being and drawing out his most primal instincts.

As easily as he could, Joel extradited himself from your embrace. Stopping only momentarily to cover your sleeping body in a blanket, he moved forward and kissed your forehead. He gasped softly as he pulled away, an unfamiliar feeling wrapping around his heart but he shook it off, trying to push it as far from his mind as he could as he stood up.

Quietly as he could, Joel had cleared the corpse and any proof that it had ever existed away from the cabin. He had worked diligently, almost growling at the memory as he covered the floor in harsh chemicals to pull the scent of your attacker from the wood grain. The contractor in him was shouting at him not to pour the scented cleaner over the finished wood but he ignored it.

After finishing, he debated on what to do next. He stood over the couch for a moment, watching you sleep as he weighed his options. On one hand, he could crawl back over you and nuzzle himself into your sleeping form. He was sure that you would welcome him. On the other, a creeping sense of danger was making bile rise in his throat. He needed to keep you safe.

Joel had left you, his need to keep you safe overwhelming the confusing emotions that you were eliciting from him. Taking into the surrounding trees, he moved quickly, setting up new traps and fencing around the cabin. He prayed that you wouldn’t go wandering off anytime soon, dreading having to unravel you from chicken wire.

With his hand throbbing and sweat covering his body, Joel knew it was time to go back. Turning back, he tried to go through every scenario in his head. You would be awake, it was too late in the morning for you to be still asleep. The thought of facing you made him attempt to slow his pace, but his nerves ensured that he reached the steps in record time. Joel stood at the front door for a moment, trying to steel himself before opening it. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his good hand momentarily before turning the handle.

- You -

A fire raged in between your legs, tears flowing down your flushed face as your rutted against Joel’s towel. Leaning forward, you buried your face into the fabric surrounding you, huffing at the smell of him. Your hips worked frantically, whining as the rough fabric scratched at your swollen nub. Heat gathered at your center, pulling everything tight before a weak pulse of pleasure inched its way out of your glistening folds.

Slick covering your thighs, you cried out in frustration. The smell of the absent alpha surrounded you, driving you into a frenzy. The towel that you rubbed yourself against was a poor excuse for the man who plagued your mind. The heat returned immediately, the pain making you grasp at the walls of your makeshift nest and whimper.

“Jooooel,” you sobbed, a fresh wave of tears accompanying the slick pouring from in between your legs.

“Christ darling.”

You gasped, scrambling to turn and face the gravelly voice. Flipping around, you moaned at the sight of him.

Joel’s cheeks were bright red, sweat made his t-shirt cling to his chest, and his hands were clenched at his sides. You watched as he gulped, his gaze finding yours momentarily before raking down your naked body. You should be embarrassed, but as you watched how his eyes turned black as he watched your breasts heave from exertion and how he licked his lips at the drops of slick rolling down your thighs, you felt a boost of confidence surge through you. The way he looked at you made you feel wanted, sexy even, something you had never felt before.

“Joel, please,” you called to him softly, a coy smile gracing your lips as you crawled towards the edge of the bed to meet him.

You rose and placed your hands against his chest, leaning into him. Joel stood there motionless as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, clearly warring with himself as you wrapped your arms around his neck. With you scratching at the nape of it, he closed his eyes momentarily and let out a low moan. Hands twitching at his sides, he sighed before snapping them back open. Joel’s gaze was pleading as your face inched towards his. You stopped inches away from his lips, doubt creeping up through the tension that crackled in the stifling air. The doubt didn’t last long as Joel surprised you by surging forward.

A soft noise came from you as Joel crashed his lips against yours in a soft yet determined kiss. His hands came up, one cradling the back of your neck and the other yanking your hips against his. You moaned into Joel’s mouth and he took the opportunity to tease your tongue with his own. Burning desire made your thighs shake as you clawed at the hem of his shirt.

Breaking away momentarily, Joel ripped his shirt off before picking you up off of the bed. You yelped, giggling before your eyes rolled into the back of your head. A pathetic whimper crawled out of your throat as Joel began to mouth at your neck, the hardness of his length pressing against your bare core as he carried you over to the dresser. Placing you on top of it, Joel broke away again.

Whining, you tried to capture his lips again but he pulled you back with the grip he had on the back of your neck.

“I need you to tell me that you want this baby, I need you to tell me now. ‘Cuz once I start,” Joel groaned, leaning forward to whisper in your ear, “I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

Your thighs clamped against his hips, bucking up to grind yourself against the harsh denim. Eyes rolling back, your nails dug into Joel’s shoulders as he sucked angry marks into your sensitive skin. You tried to muster up a coherent response but all that came out of your mouth was something between a wail and a shout.

Joel chuckled darkly, moving his head back to hold your face in one of his large palms. With his breath fanning over you and scarred chest on full display, you whined as his other hand moved down the length of your shuddering form. You carded your fingers through the smattering of hair on his chest, absentmindedly tracing over a random scar that formed an angry line as he rubbed soothing circles into your hips and thighs. He caught your hand with his own, making you meet his piercing gaze. A shudder ran down your spine from the way he looked at you. The name for that look rattled around your brain as Joel pulled your hand up to his mouth and kissed the back of it gently. You gasped as you watched him place it over his thundering heart.

“Tell me darling, please. I can’t - you need to tell me that you want me. Please, I need to know that I can have ya,” Joel begged, the desperation in his voice making you dizzy.

Gripping the back of his neck, you pulled him closer and kissed him hard. A soft hum came from him, his lips moving in tandem with yours as you tried to meld your bodies together. Ankles locking behind his back, you dug your heels into him to pull his hips into your own. This kiss was different, longing rolled off of the both of you like waves and crashed together as hands and mouths explored one another.

You leaned back to catch your breath, watching as the string of spit that connected you stretched and broke. Eyes meeting once more, you suddenly couldn’t wait any longer. You needed him. You’ve needed him since the first day you met him. Hell, maybe you had always needed him, but that was too much to think about right now. Not as your abdomen cramped and a heat like no other screamed at you to rip open the rough denim that pushed against you.

“Please alpha, I need you to fill me up. Make me yours Joel, please, please, please,” you cried as your shaky hands tried and failed to unbutton his jeans.

Joel let out a feral moan before he launched himself towards you. Desperate now, Joel kissed you passionately, his teeth clacking against yours as he devoured you. He nibbled on your bottom lip before delving his tongue in to taste you, making your head spin and body ache with desire. Sucking on your tongue, Joel reached up to cup one of your breasts in his hand. He pinched your nipple between his fingers, rolling the nub and hardening it.

Panting, you broke away to whine, “Please Joel.”

He hummed, leaning forward to kiss your neck once more before trailing his lips down your body. His mustache prickled your skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake as he moved to wrap his lips around the opposite nipple. You cried out and flung your hands up to pull at his locks, eliciting a devastating moan from him. His other hand came up to play with your other breast as he sucked and bit at your now reddened nub. Joel kept up his attention on your breasts for what felt like ages as you begged. He laughed softly as you thrashed below him, letting up only to switch sides. Tears had begun to fall from your eyes, your frustration making you wiggle so much that the dresser knocked into the wall behind you. Joel chuckled again before pulling back to look at you properly.

“You’re some squirrelly today darling,” he drawled, playing with the curls that covered your mound as you arched into him, “Something on your mind?”

You whined and bucked, a frustrated noise leaving your lips as you playfully smacked his shoulder. Joel chuckled darkly, kissing your cheek sweetly before picking you up once more and tossing you on the bed. You flopped against it ungracefully, sitting up only to be knocked over as he grabbed you by the ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed. Shivering as Joel stood over you, his eyes feasted on your vulnerable state. You gulped, beginning to feel self conscious at his primal gaze.

“So fucking beautiful baby,” Joel breathed, moving to hover over you before leaning down and trailing his lips across your heated skin.

He kissed over the scars and stretch marks, admiring the patch of hair above your seam for a moment before he pressed his nose into the curls and breathed in, moaning loudly as he rested his cheek against your thigh. Whining again, you begged him to crawl back up your body but he stayed put. Instead, you felt him pry your damp legs apart.

“W-what are you doing?,” you asked through a gasping breath, hands clutching the sheets below you.

“M’gonna make you feel good darling, get you all nice and ready for me,” he said softly before he leaned forward and licked a long stripe up your seam.

A garbled, “Joel!,” left your mouth as he shoved his face into your core.

Stubble chafing the inside of your thighs, you writhed on the bed as Joel’s long strokes had you pulsating. Feeling you grow impatient, he switched to calculated flicks, making your clit jump and a garbled moan bounce off the walls. Your mind was completely blank, the only coherent thought that you had was Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel…

He was ravenous, sucking on your throbbing nub before moving down to shove his tongue into your core. You felt him crook his tongue inside of you, lapping up the slick that poured out of you. Hands flying to his hair, you shouted his name as he moved up again to suck at your clit, his fingers moving to breach your entrance.

“J-Joel - AH! Oh my god, please Joel. I - fuuuuck,” you wailed as he slid one, then two fingers inside of you.

You had never been so full in your entire life. You had never been filled, period. Always nervous to try, warnings about purity haunting you even during the heights of your heats, you had satisfied yourself by grinding against whatever pillow or blanket you could find. Now, with two of Joel’s thick fingers pumping inside of your hole, and his mouth sucking and flicking at your clit, you felt a blinding pressure building embarrassingly fast.

Nervous of the intense feeling building inside of you, you tried to scooch your hips back on the bed but Joel’s free arm clamped down over your mid section. Now, with his forearm pressing against your abdomen and his relentless pace doing wonders on your aching core, you had no choice but to feel the entirety of the pleasure that Joel was ripping from you.

“C’mon baby, make that pussy cry for me, I know you can. You want to be a good girl for me, right sweetheart?,” Joel asked sweetly, his words making your head spin as his fingers picked up their pace inside of you.

“Fuuuck yes, I wanna be good. I’ll be so good for you Joel. Please, please, please,” you sobbed, hips twitching with the pressure building inside of you, begging to be released.

Joel’s fingers hooked against your walls, the calloused pads of his fingertips rubbing over a devastating spot inside of you that had you practically convulsing on the bed. Your heart rate sped up, blood pumping in your ears so loud that you could barely hear his response.

“Good girl, now cum for me darling,” Joel said sternly, the tone of his voice making something inside of you melt as he lowered his mouth back down and sucked your clit hard.

You wailed, hands pushing Joel’s skull into your center and heels digging into his back as you trembled. You barreled towards the precipice, letting yourself be overcome by Joel as you gushed around his digits. Babbling nonsense at him, you gasped and squeezed his fingers. Pleasure rocked through you, fraying all of the nerve endings in your body as Joel fucked you through it. His pace never faltering, he kept his mouth and fingers going even after the last contraction had weakly clutched him. Suddenly feeling the overstimulation, you whined and pushed at his head, trying to wiggle out from under his strong hold.

“Quit it, I ain’t done,” Joel growled, his voice muffled as he spoke into your folds.

The switch in Joel’s demeanor had your head spinning. He had always been so gentle with you, a true southern gentleman. Now, with his fingers pistoning roughly inside of your core, the wet sound of his hand smacking against your center echoing throughout the room, his presence was menacing. It only made you want him more.

Any protest that you had soon vanished from your mind as Joel doubled down on his efforts. He sucked your poor clit in between his lips again, batting it with his tongue as he slid a third finger into you. You yelped at the sudden fullness, lungs fighting for air as your second orgasm barreled towards you. Black dots filled your vision as you tore at his scalp, worrying for a moment about hurting him before a feral noise sent vibrations through your pussy.

“Fuuuck, Joooooel. Oh my - I fucking lo - oh my goood,” you moaned.

Joel hummed, the vibrations of it buzzing against your clit and sending you flying off the deep end. You gasped, throwing your head back as your core locked his fingers in place, squeezing them almost painfully as ecstasy had you twisting in his grasp. You could hear him groan as more slick soaked his face, Joel slurping it up and prolonging the blinding pleasure that had you mumbling nonsense.

Finally slowing, Joel carefully pulled his fingers from your core as you hissed. Bringing them up to his face, your eyes followed his movements as he separated them to watch the strings of arousal gleam in the daylight. His eyes met yours, a smirk forming on his face before he sucked his glistening fingers into his mouth. You gasped at the sight, having never seen anything like it. Moaning at the taste, Joel’s eyes raked over you as you laid panting and naked in front him.

Weakly, you reached a hand out to him and he took it in his larger one, kissing the back of it sweetly before crawling up your body. With his lips kissing up your sternum, the heat was back now despite your two previous releases. Your hips bucked into him as he ran his teeth across the sensitive skin below your ear. Joel moaned at the friction, grinding his hips down into yours as he teased your gland. You wordlessly willed him to bite down, to seal the claim he already had over you, but he refrained.

“Never thought I’d have ya like this darling. So sweet, so smart, so soft, and all fucking mine,” he mumbled, bruising your neck with his teeth.

“Y-your, m’yours Joel. Please, I’ve never had someone like this. I-I-I need you, please, I need you to fuck me,” you begged, finally managing to shove his pants down his hips and gasping as his hard cock sprung from its confines.

As you reached to grab it, Joel grabbed your hand and your eyes flicked up to meet his own. You whined, wanting to feel the warm length that pulsed against your slicked thigh. You were not an expert by any means, but you knew Joel was fucking huge and it made your mouth water. Pretty and thick, with veins running down the sides, a trimmed patch of curly hair gathering at the base, and a glob of precum pearling at his reddened tip, you needed to touch him. You fought against Joel’s hold on your hand but he demanded your attention.

Joel’s chest heaved and you could tell he was fighting against his own instincts by stopping, but he pushed through, gripping your face and looking deep into your eyes. You stared back at him in confusion, frustrated as you wondered what the hold up was.

“Darling is this - have you never, uh… What do you mean you ain’t never had someone like this?,” Joel asked through panting breaths, the hair on his chest brushing up against your sensitive nipples.

“Because I haven’t. I was with everyone at camp and then I was on the run, now m’here. Never wanted anyone before, never needed anybody before you,” you whispered, suddenly feeling shy as his eyes widened at your admission.

“Shit,” Joel swore, blanching as he rolled off of you.

“W-what?,” you croaked, eyes watering as he distanced himself from you again.

You hauled yourself up and slid into his lap, chasing him without even thinking about it. Joel cursed, his bare cock now seated in between your folds as he tried to keep your hips from moving against his painfully hard cock. You whined, weakly shifting to try and spark some sort of friction between you as he hissed through his teeth.

“Darling, f-fuck, I wouldn’t of done it like that if - oh sweet Jesus,” Joel groaned as you managed to rip one of his trembling hands off of your hips.

Determined, you held his hand above his head as you rubbed your soaking seam against him, moaning as your clit caught on the tip of his dick. A fresh wave of slick coated him as you moved, helping you grind into Joel as he bit his bottom lip to keep his moans from spilling out.

“I need you Joel. M’yours. Fuuuck, and you’re mine. This is all fucking mine, nobody else’s,” you growled, shocking the both of you as a wave of possessiveness washed over you.

Something clicked in Joel’s brain as the words tumbled from your lips. Finally having enough, Joel flipped you on to your back and loomed over you. Pools of black boring into your soul, your walls fluttered against the emptiness his fingers left behind. As Joel watched your pussy twitch, you could practically hear the gears turning in his head before he came to a decision.

“If you want me to stop, you tell me. If I’m hurting ya, you fucking tell me. Got it?,” Joel said seriously, making sure that your eyes met as he said it.

Nodding before he had even stopped talking, you locked your ankles behind his back as he hiked your legs over his hips, bodies unbearably closer now. Joel leaned down, lips ghosting over yours as the need for him to fill you had you squirming against the solid wall of his chest.

“Say it baby,” he chided gently.

“Please Joel, I need you,” you whispered as your noses brushed against each other, his honeyed tone making your heart flutter.

Joel kissed you fiercely and let one hand move down to run his fingers through your slit. He gathered up all the slick he could before he used it to pump himself, spreading your arousal up and down the length of him. He finally broke the intoxicating kiss, panting as he pressed himself against your opening, carefully pushing himself in the first few inches. Sweat began to form at your hairline as your body struggled to accommodate his size. Not only was Joel long but he was thick, your body fought against the intrusion as you winced. Joel grunted, clearly struggling as you squeezed him like a vice.

“Fuck darling, you gotta - shit - you gotta relax and let me in,” Joel hissed, his brow furrowing as he tried to keep himself still.

You nodded, moaning as he moved to capture your lips once more. As soft lips moved against yours and tongues mingled, you forgot about the heavy weight of his cock inside of you. With you distracted by his passionate kiss, Joel was able to slide in a few more inches. More slick came to greet him as your hole stretched and your fingernails left angry red lines down his back. Feeling emboldened by your response, Joel pushed through the last bit of resistance, sliding home and nestling himself in the cradle of your hips.

“Fuck you’re so tight, fucking choking my cock darling. Jesus, little pussy’s so wet,” Joel whined unabashedly in your ear.

You moaned, not used to Joel being so vocal. It was driving you crazy. His dirty words, mixed with the feeling of him carving out a space for himself inside you, had you nearing your end already. Mind long gone, you keened and tried to fuck yourself on him, pathetic little jolts to your hips making him gasp and groan.

“Please fuck me Joel. I can take it, I swear. I’ll be good, I’m your good girl, I’m - oh!,” you cried out as Joel threw your legs over his shoulders, moving himself back carefully before thrusting forward again.

His pace was slow but his thrusts hard, knocking the breath out of you each time. You choked on a whimper as he pressed forward and bumped against something that had a fresh wave of tears streaming down your face. Joel leaned forward, getting impossibly deeper as the curls at the base of his dick tickled your clit. Leaning forward, he kissed the tears on your cheeks, cooing softly as you hiccuped and whined.

“Aw, my sweet girl, d’you like that? Like my cock stretching you out? Bet you won’t want another after this, ain’t nobody else gonna fuck you like this baby. Christ, do you hear her soaking for me? She’s fucking crying for my cock, isn’t she? Shi-i-t,” Joel growled, his hips picking up the pace slightly.

You grabbed at his hair, his neck, his shoulders, anything to keep you grounded as you begged him for more. Joel gave you a devilish smile, making you squeak as his hips started slamming into you. Strings of your arousal dripped down Joel’s balls and soaked the hair on his thighs, making the curls glisten as he sucked at your neck again. Joel tore animalistic cries out of you as he pounded into your weeping hole, claiming you with each hard thrust.

“Pleeease,” you pleaded, not even sure what you were pleading for as you weakly tried to meet his thrusts.

Joel huffed a laugh through his moans, hips working double time as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him.

“What baby? Tell me what you want,” he crooned, moving one hand to brush through the cute patch of hair covering your mound, finding your clit and pressing down on it harshly with his thumb.

Legs shaking and eyes watering, you locked eyes with Joel before you cried out, “You daddy, I want you!”

Joel’s pace slowed for a second as he took in what you said. Freezing, you wondered if you had crossed some sort of line. You weren’t even sure where that had come from, but it just seemed so right in the moment. An apology on the tip of your tongue, you were surprised by a primal growl rumbling out of Joel, making your already pulverized insides turn to mush as he pulled himself up on his knees. He moved you up on his lap as you helplessly wrapped your weakened arms around his neck once more.

Faces pressed against one another, panting mouths sharing air and his cock almost unbearably deep, Joel grabbed your hips and began fucking you up and down on him. He speared into you so deep that you screamed, breath catching in your throat as he worked your limp body into a frenzy. Pleas, cries, and the slick sound of him moving inside of you filled the air. All of your senses were overwhelmed with Joel as panting mouths mashed into each other, lips greedily moving in tandem before breaking away again for air. The room spun as his heavy balls slapped against your ass, Joel moving faster and harder as your walls sucked him in.

You were shocked at his strength. Joel effortlessly moved your body up and down his throbbing cock with one hand clutching your hip, the other moving to strum at your oversensitive clit. You squeaked, unable to do anything but hold on for dear life as he effortlessly dragged you closer and closer to your peak.

“Say it again baby, whose pussy is this? Who gets to fuck you like this? Fuck, you’re too good for daddy sweet girl. Such a pretty thing, so smart, so strong, smell so fucking good. God - shit - say it please,” Joel moaned as he pressed into your clit harder.

“Yours! D-daddy, I’m yours. Please, I can’t. Oh my fucking g- daddy please!,” you screamed, walls beginning to squeeze him brutally.

Joel hissed, keeping up his pace as he kissed at every bit of skin his lips could reach, beginning to ramble as he neared his end.

“S’right baby, daddy’s pussy, nobody else’s. M’yours too, fuck - anything you want from me is yours, just fucking stay, please fucking stay with me baby. I can’t lose - PLEASE baby, fuck, I need you to stay.”

The desperation in his voice had you reaching out to grip his neck, bringing him down to meet your lips in a kiss filled promise. As you poured everything you had into the kiss, you felt something nudging at the outside of your hole. You gasped, looking down to see his knot forming and begging to be jammed into you. With your orgasm making your walls start to tighten around his cock, you were suddenly desperate for it. You ground yourself against his knot and Joel moaned as it began to tease your entrance.

“F-fuck, you don’t have t- ah, oh shit,” Joel stuttered, his resolve breaking as your walls twitched against the base of it.

“Knot me alpha. Shit - need you to fill me up so that I can feel you for days. Please daddy,” you begged, shattering any reservation in Joel’s mind.

A grunt left Joel as he heeded your request, shoving himself forward. You cried out as you felt his thick knot lock the two of you together, pleasure boiling over as his cock began to twitch inside of you. Waves after waves crashed through both of you, walls contracting against his throbbing knot, each slight movement triggering another devastating round of ecstasy. You felt him spurting thick loads of cum inside of you, soothing the need that had been burning inside of you since waking up. Everytime you thought that he was done, a slight movement or twitch from one of you would have Joel crying out as he released again.

You could feel your belly bloating from the mess he made inside of you. You tried to calm yourself, sensing that Joel was getting overstimulated as he tensed and shook but you couldn’t stop the way your walls clamped around him. Another orgasm had your vision blacking out around the edges, your voice hoarse as you called his name. Joel gasped, holding you close and pressing his face into your chest as his cock painfully released into you again and again and again.

Finally spent, Joel carefully lowered you onto the bed. Groaning, Joel collapsed on top of you. The weight of his body was warm and comforting, pulling a purring noise from the back of your throat. He hummed, rubbing his face against the valley of your breasts as you began to play with his hair. With the heat satiated at last, you giggled at the feeling of his whiskers tickling your damp skin. Joel’s head popped up, pools of melted chocolate studying the lines on your face as you laughed.

“What’s so funny baby?,” Joel asked, a grin evident in his voice.

You settled, letting out a few more giggles before glancing down at his relaxed face, pushing his curls from his forehead as you smiled at him.

“Nothing daddy, m’just happy,” you said softly.

Joel barked out a laugh, groaning as the movement had his cock weakly twitching again. He shook his head, kissing his way up from between your breasts. He pressed his lips against yours softly, humming at the intimacy before pulling back and grinning down at you.

“Daddy huh?,” Joel teased, watching as your cheeks reddened and you whacked his shoulder again.

“You didn’t seem to mind,” you grumbled, looking away from him to study the wall in embarrassment.

He laughed again, leaning forward and pressing soft kisses across your chest, neck, and face as you squealed and giggled. Joel kept kissing you until you were out of breath from laughter and pleading for him stop his sweet torture until he finally relented. Panting, you met his eyes once more as he looked at you with a softness that had butterflies erupting in your belly. A giddiness bubbled up to the surface and you bit your lip, suddenly feeling girlish and shy as Joel looked at you like you were the only person in the world. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead, pulling back and clearing the loose strands that stuck to your forehead off of your sweaty face.

It was then that you noticed the poor excuse for a bandage that was wrapped around his palm, the center of it red with dried blood. You whined, panicking as you brought it up to your face to examine. Joel shushed you, shaking his head before you could get too worked up.

“S’okay darling, I just sliced it when I was putting up some wire. Nothing to be worried about, I swear. Barely felt it,” he crooned, watching as you leaned forward and kissed the dark stain.

“Why don’t you let me help next time?,” you asked, letting him go back to fixing your wild strands.

He chuckled, “You really want to help me with choring that bad? It’s boring stuff. I wouldn’t want you to feel like you HAD to.”

You whined, huffing impatiently at him as you rolled your eyes, “I’ve been bored Joel. I’m going nuts in here doing nothing all day. I would LOVE to help you with your ‘choring’.”

The last part made him snort as you tried (and failed) to mimic his deep twang. You giggled back at him, bodies brushing up against each other as the feeling of joy radiated off the pair of you. He watched you with a grin, noticing the way your nose scrunched up as you threw your head back in laughter. Joel grunted as your laughter made you clench around him, suddenly remembering that he was inside of you still.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I? M’sorry if I did. I was trying so hard to stay gentle but fuck baby, you don’t know how hard its been for me to stay away from ya,” Joel asked, his concern cutting through the sweet moment.

You kissed the hand that fussed over your messy hair, lips touching the bandage once more before you said, “Joel, you didn’t hurt me. That was everything I could have asked for. I’ve never felt so… wanted. Nobody’s ever made me feel like that.”

Joel tsked, shaking his head and grumbling under his breath about how stupid every alpha in your life had been up until this point, how you were the prettiest damn thing he had ever saw, how he had no fucking clue how he got so lucky. A softer laugh tumbled out of you, breaking him from his reverie and making him smile.

“Why’d you stay away?,” you asked softly, thumb gliding over the stubble on his cheeks.

A sigh left Joel’s mouth and he looked down, his knot now deflated enough that he could ease himself out of your puffy folds. You whined, panic popping the bubble of comfort that had cradled you moments before. You were terrified that he was going to get up and leave you there. Trying not to cry, you cursed yourself for ruining the moment. He hushed you as you gripped his forearms, trying to assure you as he pulled away.

“Shhh, it’s okay baby. I just need to clean you up and get something to fill that belly of yours. You need to eat before the heat comes back. Gotta keep your strength up for when my rut hits, reckon you’re gonna rip it out of me soon. Can already feel it coming,” he said carefully, massaging your sore hips as he inched off of the bed.

You nodded, sniffling and whimpering as he made his way out of the room. You tried to remember his words as anxiety trickled into your pliant muscles, making you tense. Joel would be back, he would be back, he was just grabbing something to clean you up and some food, it’s okay, he won’t leave you…

A hiss came out of your mouth as you felt something cool and rough between your legs. Joel shushed you, softly cleaning the mess he had made of your core with a washcloth. Tossing it behind him, he lifted you up onto his lap, situating himself so that he was sitting against the headboard. Before you could nestle yourself into the crook of his neck, Joel stopped you. He brought a glass of water from the nightstand, placing it at your lips. You gulped down half of it in one go, surprised at how thirsty you were.

“All of it baby,” he whispered when you paused, moving to tip the glass into your mouth again but you stopped him.

Grabbing the glass from him, Joel raised an eyebrow as you placed the glass at his lips. You looked back at him sternly, daring him to defy you as you tipped the water into his mouth. He acquiesced, chugging down the rest of the water and placing the empty glass on the nightstand. Next, he grabbed a granola bar and presented it to you. You grumbled, not feeling particularly hungry but he was persistent as he shoved it at you again.

“Share it with me?,” you asked softly, playing with his curls.

Joel nodded, tearing the package open and breaking the nutty biscuit in two, ignoring the crumbly bits that fell onto the mess of sheets and clothes below. The two of you ate in silence, one of his big hands rubbing your thigh while you absentmindedly scratched his scalp. Finally finished, Joel let you lean forward and rest against him, your body straddling him and face shoved into the gland on his neck, snuffling at his musk.

“Why?,” you asked again, your voice barely above a whisper.

He tensed and you snuggled deeper into him, trying to cover his body with your own as you smelt his scent slightly sour with nerves. Joel huffed lightly at your knotted hair, trying to calm himself down before he answered you.

“Darling I… There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me. Things I’ve done, horrible things… Some things I did to people that deserved it, others didn’t… And I’ve failed people that cared about me, too many fucking people. I couldn’t - I can’t fail you too,” Joel murmured against your hair, fingers now clutching your hips and holding you against him firmly.

You hummed in acknowledgement, playing with his hair as you responded, “You couldn’t fail me Joel, not even if you tried.”

Joel shook his head, his nerves threatening to break him out of the peace that you had cloaked him in. He pulled back and tried to speak, but you covered his mouth with your hand before he could.

“Joel, I know you think that you’re no good but you are. You are good. You could’ve left me out there to die, but you didn’t. You helped me and you didn’t even ask for anything in return, a bad man wouldn’t do that. Whatever you had to do in the past to stay alive, I don’t care. I don’t care about any of it,” you said, letting him work through the words for a moment before you continued.

He moved to protest, gripping your wrist and trying to pull your hand off of his mouth so that he could reject your words but you slapped his hand away. Joel guffawed under your hand, the feeling of it tickling your palm as he furrowed his brows in confusion.

“I know that you… That losing Sarah must have killed you Joel,” you could feel him growing more uncomfortable but you pressed on, “But that wasn’t your fault. None of it was. And it doesn’t mean that you aren’t good, okay? You’re good Joel. You. Are. Good.”

Joel watched you silently as you eased your hand off of his mouth, eyes shining as he cleared his throat. He nodded, swallowing thickly before he leaned forward and knocked his forehead against yours, shaky breaths fanning over your face.

“S’not all darling. I can’t - I don’t know how to tell you… There’s so much more than just Sarah and I don’t know if I can ever - fuck,” he cussed, his eyes falling closed in frustration as words failed him.

“I know Joel, I know. You’ll tell me when you’re ready. But until then, I’m not going anywhere m’kay? Hell, I’ve got things I haven’t told you yet either but I don’t care, none of that matters. You’re mine and I’m yours now, you’re gonna have to throw me out into the cold if you want me gone now,” you chided.

Joel chuckled, shaking his head before he said, “I’d never kick ya out baby. Just don’t know why you’d want to be with a grumpy old man like me. M’sure you could find a decent man in Jackson, probably tons of men your age there”

You shrugged playfully, pretending to think it over, “Hmmmm… well as tempting as that sounds, I think I’ll stick with you. Think I like my men a bit more experienced, no clue why. Daddy issues maybe?”

“Shut up,” Joel said through a surprised laugh, flipping you over onto the bed and attacking your sides with tickles as you screeched and giggled.

The heaviness pulled from the air, the two of you smiled at each other. Moving to get up again, Joel groaned when he saw the mess that you had made as the two of you had rolled around playfully on the bed. Sucking in a shaky breath, he watched your pussy begin to drip slick down your thighs once more, hole winking at him enticingly as he swore under his breath.

“Oh fuck Joel, I’m sorry. I know you probably need a bit of a break, seeing as you’re a senior citizen and all,” you joked breathlessly, his head shooting up at the jab.

A mischievous grin spread across Joel’s face, pearly whites gleaming menacingly at you as his gaze turned ravenous.

“Oh honey, you’ve got no fucking clue what this old man is capable of,” he chuckled.

A witty response died in your throat, mind numbing pleasure soon making you scream for the man that had his face buried in your core.

#alpha!joel miller #angst #comfort #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #omega reader #a/b/o dynamics #smut #soft!joel miller #Soft!reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou fanfic #reader needs a hug #joel needs a hug #joel miller smut

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theyanderespecialist · 3 months ago

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Touch Starved 2 (Scenarios) Yandere Upper Moons X Gender Neutral Prisoner Reader (Demon Slayer)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back with another request! This one is going to be the 2nd part of the mini-series of the Yandere Upper Moons x gender-neutral human prisoner reader and what they do if they hug them! This one is going to have Hantengu and five of his emotion clones, Anger (Sekido), Sorrow (Aizetsu), Pleasure (Karaku), Joy (Urogi), and a Physically aged-up Hatred (Zohakuten)! Please enjoy this!]

(Disclaimer: None of the Upper Moons are Yandere, well except for Maybe Doma, that man is a kinda sussy! This is just for fun and Not to be Taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine, just do not be illegal or gross about it! You know who you are! You Dirty, Flaky, Biscuits! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Thank you!)

(Disclaimer: In This Zohakuten (Hatred) is aged up to the other emotions ages Physically at. Remember he is a demon and in the canon is over 200 years old, that's a fact)

(Hantengu, Upper Moon 4: Original/Fear) (Shocked Cuddles)

(Hantengu's POV)

I loved my sweet little (Name) They are so sweet, and I wish they would love me. It is not my fault that I had to kidnap them! I was keeping them safe! I was being a good man and keeping the love of my life safe and sound. My heart aches as I know that they do not love me and I had to keep them prisoner. We are sitting in my quarters and I am reading a book. when I hear them move and then when I look up at them, they sit in front of me and slowly wrap their arms around me.

I was beyond shocked and did not know what to do! (Name)! (Name) is hugging me! I slowly move my arms to them and wrap my arms around them pulling them close to me. I bury my face into their neck and let out a cry of happiness and joy! I could feel the five emotion clones in me all wanting (Name) to hug them too! We all hope that they will seek comfort in all of us!

I of course am going to be selfish and keep this moment with them all to myself! They are mine, all mine~

(Sekido, Upper Moon 4: Anger) (Angry Cuddles)

(Sekido's POV) (Anger)

I was angry, I was so angry that (Name) did not hug me! Why would they not want to hug me? I am a good partner! I have kept them safe! I wish that they would hug me, I was deserving of their love! I was deserving of My (Name's) Love! They would hug Hantengu, but They would not hug me!? I have no idea why I am feeling this jealous of Hantengu, we are all Hantengu but we all want to have (Name) hug us as well!

Suddenly I felt (Name) wrap their arms around me. I did not even hear them sneaking up on me. They have my head pressed against their chest. I feel my face heat up.

"What the hell are you doing!?" I snap at them. "You are angry, you need comfort." (Name) tells me. "You need cuddles!" "I am not angry!" I growl but let them continue to hug me and bury my face in them. "You Want cuddles?" They snicker and I growl. "Why you are so angry?" They press. I growl more and they scoff. "I am not even doing anything, I am just hugging you!" "Shut up!" I wrap my arms around them and pin them to the ground. they groaned and looked up at me. "Fine, Angry Cuddles it is..." They say with a smirk and I growl. Burying my face into their neck.

(Aizetsu, Upper Moon 4: Sorrow) (Sad Boy Cuddles)

(Aizetsu's POV)

I was so sad, Sekido got to hug (Name), and Hantengu too! Why did I not get to cuddle (Name)? I love them the most! I knew that (Name) loved me too, they had to! So Why would they not hug me? I was crying in the room and hoping that (Name) would come and comfort me too! I hear them come in and hear their voice.

"Aizetsu?" They ask me. "Are you okay?" They walk over to me and make me look at them. "I am fine..." I whimper out. They frown with concern in their eyes and they kneel next to me and wrap their arms around me. "I am sorry, I should spend more time with you too." They tell me and I sigh and let more tears fall.

Yes, it was manipulative of me to use my sorrow to make them feel guilty. But they are mine and I wanted them to hug me too! To love me too and to be mine as well! I did not want them to hug anyone else but me, so if they were hugging the others, then they had to hug me too! So I do not feel bad for manipulating them to hug me! I will be doing this again!

(Karaku, Upper Moon 4: Pleasure) (Cuddles With Pleasure, Touching, and Kisses!)

(Karaku's POV)

I was so jealous! I wanted (Name) to hug me! And Touch Me! AND LOVE ME! Their body is so freaking sexy and from what the others felt when they hugged (Name) that it felt so fucking good! I wanted to feel that good! I am the pleasure emotion clone, I should feel that so fucking good as well! I did not know what I was going to do if they did not hug me. So here I am on the futon waiting for them and then I saw them look at me. They got on the futon and hugged me. It is happening! They are hugging me! I pulled them to my chest and start to kiss their neck and feel up their ass~ Fuck this is so- SLAP. They slapped me and told me I was an ass! They stormed out, but man I felt so good! I got to touch them and grope them and kiss their neck! "I cannot wait to do that again!" I say with a smirk. "Maybe I can kiss them with my tongue next time~ Yes~"

(Urogi, Upper Moon 4: Joy) (PURE JOY From The Cuddles) (Urogi's POV)

When I heard that four of the six of us had hugged (Name) I was so jealous! I am to be their mate! I am a hawk demon! I was the one to love them the most. I would be mated to them and be the one to stay with them the most. As a hawk demon, I would mate for life and that means I would be mated to them forever and always. so I do not want to share them, nothing with them, I deserve all their hugs, not anyone else! That is when they walked up to me and wrapped their arms around me. I feel pure joy rush through my body and fly up into the air holding them tight to me. "You are hugging me~ You are min!" I cheer and they bury their face into my neck as I fly through the infinity castle with them. nothing can be this moment! nothing!

(Zohakuten, Upper Moon 4: Hatred) (Hateful, Jealous, and Forced Cuddles)

(Zohakuten's POV)

I was beyond pissed, how dare they hug everyone BUT ME! I love them the most they should hug me! Well, I am not going to wait any longer. I saw them walk in and I grabbed them. "What the fuck have you not hugged me out! Being a tramp and hugging everyone but me!?" I demanded and they stared at me.

"I-I came to hug you r-right now..." they said. "Yo-You are hurting me..."

My eyes widen and I let go of their wrist. They held the wrist I had in my hand and it was already bruised. "Y-You still want a h-hug?" they ask slowly but I can tell they do not want to.

I did not care I was going to make them hug me. I am not going to let them get away with hugging everyone else. "YES!" I snap and they slowly pull me into their arms. "I am sorry," I whisper into their ear and they seem to relax and hold me in their arms tight, I hug them back. I never wanted to hurt them. I had just been so jealous. I hate that the others got to hug them first. THEY ARE MINE!

(Okay so Hatred Emotion clone, Zohakuten WOULD FOR SURE demand hugs and be the one to call you a tramp when jealous you been with others. He called Mitsuri a tramp XD For like no reason, the man needs to chill XD stop slute shaming The Reader for giving hugs XD brah!!!)

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS, another chapter is done! I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter here, and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!]

(Also since they all seem to be the type to share I did them like this! with it being a whole overarching story with the same Reader!)

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klmwrites · 7 months ago

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Where words fail, music speaks (a COD fanfic)

[Part 2]

During your time in the military so far, you have bore witnessed to many horrific things - interrogation, torture, dead bodies…all of which you viewed without batting an eyelid. But for some reason, the sight of the dusty grand piano on the dilapidated wooden stage of the recital hall made your insides turn uncomfortably. As did every crunch of shrapnel and broken glass that was crushed below your feet as you made your way towards the thing of beauty.

During a mission with Task Force 141, a shootout ends up with you being separated from the boys and seeking refuge in what seems to be a former music conservatorium.

“You did the impossible, Lass. You made a bunch of battle hardened men forget about allegiances and violence temporarily in favour of being united by music.”

Song that inspired this fic (highly recommend you listen as you read):

“After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.” - Aldous Huxley

“Private Y/N, how copy?”

The radio attached to your hip cackled to life as you shook your head in an attempt to be rid of the shrill incessant ringing in your ears. The culprit? A flashbang grenade the enemy threw not too far from your position. It caught you off guard, and it was thanks to that stupid thing that you were currently disorientated.

You could hear Price swearing up and down when you failed to respond, so you quickly grabbed your walkie-talkie and pressed the microphone button as soon as you had maintained a safe distance from your pursuers.

“Private Y/N to Captain Price, reading you loud and clear.” You swallowed the dry lump in your throat, causing you to cough slightly.

A visible sigh of relief could be heard from the other side. “Thank God, Private. We thought we lost you. Sit-rep?”

“I’m around 10 klicks from the safehouse. Am temporarily partially blinded thanks to a stupid flashbang but otherwise okay.”

“Sun’s gonna set soon, so see if you can seek refuge somewhere for the night. Activate your transponder once you do. Soap, Ghost and I are gonna come get you. Hang in there, love.”

“Will do, Cap.” The sounds of hunting dogs barking and the shouts from their handlers over your shoulder prompted you to pick up the pace. “I’m still being pursued, so will be going dark until I’m somewhere a tad quieter. Private Y/N out.”

Switching off your radio with finality, you now found yourself at what seemed to be at the edge of the forest - the vast amount of bushland now giving way to what seemed to be signs of civilisation. Activating your night vision goggles, you made your way down the steep hill and in the direction of what seemed to be a gothic style building and some townhouses.

A sigh of relief left you as your boots touched concrete once more. You then make a beeline to the rows of houses ahead, praying that your pursuers have lost your scent - the last thing you want is to drag civilians into this whole mess. Luckily, that was something you didn’t need to think about - the whole place is a ghost town. Save the sound of cicadas and dogs barking, there was hardly anyone in sight.

You sprinted your way across the town square, eyes and ears on alert as you watched the last of the sun’s orange rays set beyond the hills beyond. Under normal circumstances, you loved the winter night sky and the stars that would be visible especially this far from the city lights. But currently as a target? The sun setting at 5pm did you no favours at all.

Through the fuzzy green lenses, you found yourself standing outside the very Gothic-styled building you spied on not too long ago. Finding the main door ajar, you took a risk and decided to enter the building. Every creak your boot made against the dusty wooden floor made you internally cringe, but you pressed on. You eventually managed to locate the breaker room and heaving a sigh of relief, flipped the switch back on. While the current room you are in still remained dark, you could hear the telltale sound of parts of the building whirring to life in addition to some of the lights on the switchboard mounted on the wall changing from red to green. It seemed that despite this place having been abandoned for quite some time now, there were parts of the building that were still functional.

You walked out into the still darkened corridor and made your way to the upper floors, making sure to switch on your transponder as you did so. You made your way towards the emergency stairway, climbing up 3 flights of stairs before pushing the door open - according to the switchboard, this was the closest level to the breaker room which still had power. You were greeted to the sight of what seemed to be a foyer of some kind, and adjacent to said foyer were several pairs of crash bar doors.

Curiosity took hold of you. If the outside was so gorgeous, then surely the inside must be as well. You had stumbled upon a hardcopy of the building's blueprints in the breaker room, and according to it this was the largest room in the entire compound. Based on the size alone you guessed it had to be some kind of a convention hall, or gathering area at the least. You were apprehensive but knew that in most likelihood, you were the sole occupant in this grand building. So in you went.

What you saw next was indeed the treat of a lifetime. As soon as you walked through those doors the sight of the majestic, arched high ceiling made of stone - the style most commonly associated with gothic architecture - made you stop in your tracks. And you were only one foot in. Tracing your eyes along the ceiling, you were greeted by the sight of an intricately designed skylight in the ceiling’s centre; one that was made out entirely of stained glass. The soft moonlight that seeped through allowed you to view and admire the effort and meticulousness of the design. It was of a lady playing the harp, below her feet was an olive crown majestically spread out around the inner circumference of the skylight, in addition to the following Cyrillic words: Национальная консерватория музыки - the National Conservatory of Music.

In addition to the skylight, the moonlight also drew your attention to what seemed to be a grand Piano sitting innocuously centrestage in an almost picture-perfect location just below the proscenium arch with a layer of dust on its cover. At the sight you frowned. During your time in the military so far, you have bore witnessed to many horrific things - interrogation, torture, dead bodies…all of which you viewed without batting an eyelid. But for some reason, the sight of the dusty grand piano on the dilapidated wooden stage of the recital hall made your insides turn uncomfortably. As did every crunch of shrapnel and broken glass that was crushed below your feet as you made your way towards the thing of beauty. Clearly, the conservatorium had previously played an unwilling host to a shootout. It was truly a miracle that the place was still in one piece, as well as the skylight.

The first thing you did was inspect the damage done. Clearly, the piano had not been used in quite a while. Probably abandoned when the townspeople evacuated to the nearest safe zone. But pianos are sturdy things, and you were determined to let it return to its former glory as much as possible in whatever way you could. Placing your two hands below the piano lid, you pulled upwards. At first, it barely moved an inch. But at the second go, the tell tale creaking sound of the lid being lifted reverberated around the hall as did the sound of debris sliding off it and making contact with the floor.

Moving the stand below the lid to ensure that the latter does not close, you peered inside to inspect the damage done. Surprisingly, the strings were not as rusted as you had previously thought - the evacuation orders must have either been rather recent, or the piano is of a really sturdy kind. You now walked over to the piano bench, to where the black keylid was, and smiled when you lifted it and saw the still somewhat pristine, white ivory keys below.

You gingerly moved a finger and pressed the “A” key. The sound that came caused you to mesh your teeth together - It was very out of tune. You now made your way backstage in hopes of finding a piano tuner because if there was anything worse than a broken piano, it was an untuned one. Fortunately, you didn’t need to look high and low - it sat in a cupboard in where you presumed was the music director's office. Walking back out you now focused your attention onto the piano in front of you. Every tweak and string you wound up caused the piano to creak, the sound echoing obnoxiously. And every time your head would look up, scanning the non-existent audience to ensure there were no unwelcomed individuals around. You were still a soldier after all, and this place was still a battlefield - the bullet holes and shrapnel that littered this once beautiful recital hall is a clear reminder of that.

Once you had deemed that enough tuning had been done, you moved back to the ivory keys and pressed down on the A key once more. It finally sounded right. But just to be sure, you pressed down two keys next - both were A keys, exactly an octave apart. The clear, crystal sound from both keys now filled the air.

A small smirk graced your lips as you now allowed yourself to slide onto the piano bench, raising both hands in the proper position above the keys. It had been years since you had played, but the euphoric feeling had never left you since. You stalled for a moment, wondering if it was truly a good idea to play the piano under the circumstances you were currently in. A grand piano in itself was loud, and combined by the acoustics of the hall would make every sound coming from it absolutely phenomenal. The problem is that such a melody, as lovely as it would be, is the equivalent of lighting a bonfire when there is a hungry pack of wolves nearby - it is bound to attract attention. You had survived this long - was it truly worth it?

Your mind went back to the fact you were currently in the army. Everyone is sent onto the battlefield to die. Death is almost inevitable for someone in your position. The piano in front of you was like a drug, beckoning you to indulge in its sweet melody. The last time you had played the piano was 3 years ago, back when you were a student with faculty of fine arts

Where did everything go wrong?

Shaking your head, you now dipped into your space between your tactical vest and pulled out a black A5 Journal. You opened the thing with trembling hands and placed it against the music desk. This was the most precious commodity you currently had in your possession, the only slice you had to your old life: A nondescript looking Journal filled with lines and lines of unfinished, unplayed melodies. Some of the pages were crumpled, even folded as you promised yourself to continue to composition as soon as you found the time to do so. 9 out of 10 times though, this never happened.

Sitting here on the piano bench was enough to take you a journey through time, back to when you were a recruit in the academy. During the little free time you had you would be hunched over, a small desk lamp by your side as you meticulously used your plastic ruler to draw five lines across the paper with a ballpoint pen, followed by drawing the treble and bass clef on the left side. Sometimes, you added sharps or flats as you saw fit and always drew the time signature before you started the composition. You were constantly teased by your peers for it, and therefore you opted to keep this part of yourself hidden even when you joined task force 141. This was a side of you that was exclusive to you and you only. But despite all the adversity you had to go through, your love for music never waned. Even when the desk was occupied, you found yourself huddled in a corner, torchlight in your mouth as you lay on your stomach, hands busy jotting down the next string of notes that came to your head.

With your right hand, you smoothened out the composition before you. It was untitled, and was written during a tumultuous time in your life. Specifically, the day when you had learnt that you were to drop out of University in favour of Military school. It was a decision you did not take kindly to then.

Your fingertips touched the ivory keys once more, but this time you shuddered at its coolness. Taking in a nervous deep breath, you pressed down onto the keys. The sound of the first chord and notes of this unnamed composition now filled the air.

“Why do I need to drop out?”

“Being a musician is not a job, It’s an embarrassment. You either enrol into a course that would actually be useful for society, or you are going to military school.”

“But it’s my decision! And I won that scholarship!”

Your heartbeat picks up the pace by a notch as the unpleasant memories started to come back. Nevertheless, you played on. The piano would be your rock, it had to be.

“Anthony, I don’t see what is so wrong with them being a musician. As long as -”

Slap! The sound of your stepfather’s hand against your mother’s soft face was so hard it reverberated upstairs into the room in which you and your older brother once shared. He had moved out as soon as he was 18, wanting to escape this home that was the equivalent of a hellhole. His only regret being that he could not take you along with him.

“I am the man of the house! You and your brats will do as I say!”

Why your mother ever married him, you will never understand. Sure, you were sad when father passed on, but it was preferable to…whatever this is. Life before Anthony was tolerable, but in the picture it was hell. Grief changes an individual, sometimes to the point that they ignore the red flags in favour of filling up the void of loss in their hearts.

You can hear your mother crying profusely downstairs and more unintelligible yelling from Anthony. It became so unbearable to the point you had to cover your ears and close your eyes, willing god or whatever higher entity to make Anthony disappear. It wasn’t fair that he controlled what you could and could not do, it wasn’t fair to your mother who had done nothing but protect you again and again from his wrath.

For too long, she had paid the physical price. She had sacrificed so much for you, so what you were about to do was a small fraction of what she had done.

Your fingers now fly across the ivory keys in a precise manner that only an experienced pianist could. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, but your hands were steadfast. You were grateful for the hours of practice you had put in back when your biological father had still been alive, in a household filled with love and encouragement. Unlike Anthony, your father actively encouraged you to play the piano, once even jokingly saying that he would love to see you play in Carnegie hall one day. He was stern, but loving. He was as great as a parent could ever be.

A month after what had happened downstairs, you found yourself on a bus on the way to the military base where all recruits go for their basic military training. You had confronted Anthony the next day, promising to drop out in favour of military school as long as they stop hitting your mother. While you will never know if that sleazeball of a man would ever keep his promise, you knew that you allowed your mother a temporary breather from Anthony’s wrath.

Military academy was a whole different ball game. Most of the recruits were so toxic, believing that being an “alpha” was the way to succeed in military school (this was mostly the male recruits, less so the females). You were constantly shouted at, shoved and berated for the smallest things. Eventually you acclimatised, but it didn’t make the situation any better.

So imagine how surprised you were when you were assigned to Task Force 141 upon your promotion to Private, at the behest of Captain Price himself. Apparently, Price had seen your file, and upon reading of your top marks in sniping and stealth, had requested for your transfer as soon as you were available. In fact, this was your first mission with them and you were so new that you didn’t even have a callsign.

Your fingers slowed from a vivace to an adagio; the music from fortissimo to mezzo piano. You ended your song in a perfect fifth, before opening your eyes to the sheet music in front of you. It was only then you realised that like so many of your other compositions, this one was incomplete and that you had cooked up the rest of the melody on the spot. You now chewed your lip - what were the notes you had just played? You reached inside your vest once more and pulled out a tiny pencil. But just as you were about to draw the first note you heard the sound of something shifting in the audience.

You whipped your head towards your right and the sight you saw next was…unbelievable in the very least. Downstage was Price, Soap and Ghost all seated in a neat little row looking up towards you. Towards the left and right along with the back area of the House were other armed men as well - whom you presume to be KONNI - all huddled near the majestic pillars, some seated and others leaning against said pillars looking entranced.

You blinked at them owlishly. Had you been so entranced in your own music that you didn’t hear them come in? You had presumed that they would start fighting from the moment these men met each other, which would be the indicator to stop your lollygagging. So why hasn’t any of them done so?

Someone at the back clapped slowly, which slowly began to spread around the concert hall. Soon the room was filled with a thunderous applause with some throwing whistles your way. Stunned, you got up from your seat and did what a performer would have naturally done - you bowed.

“That was one hell of a performance, Love.” Captain Price now said from his seat. “We didn’t want to disturb you, so we just sat here and watched.” He threw you a small smile. “Hate to admit but it’s been a while since I’ve heard something so soothing.”

“Sir, there are KONNI men behind you.” you now whispered rather fearfully, still keeping a cautious eye on them as you were unsure on what their next actions would be.

“I know, love. But they haven’t done anything yet so I’m willing to not shoot them if they don’t shoot us first.”

“You did the impossible, Lass. You made a bunch of battle hardened men forget about allegiances and violence temporarily in favour of being united by music.” Soap said as he got on the stage and hugged you. You were shocked by the man’s gesture, but welcomed it nevertheless.

A member of the KONNI armed forces now approached your little group. Needless to say, Price, Soap and Ghost did not take his action too kindly. The man raised his hands to show that he was unarmed. “Our Commandant wants to have a truce with your men for the night - we want to hear more music.” he now gestures to you. Soap’s grip on you tightened.

Price now looked in your direction and raised an eyebrow. Your call.

“As long as you promise not to kill us in our sleep, I’m happy to oblige.” The young man smiled before turning back and yelling something in Russian. A much older man now approached and stretched out his hand towards Price, which the latter shook upon.

Till this very day, the Conservatorium Truce remains one of the most fascinating and heartwarming events to have ever happened to Task Force 141, and it was how you left a huge impression on the three men. Who knew that for everyone’s differences, music was the very medium needed to unite humanity as a whole, even from opposing sides? Unsurprisingly, it was that very night that your callsign was created.

“Price to Pianist, how copy?”

The sound of Price's voice drew you from your reverie. You chuckled as you flipped your radio on, and brought it close to your lips.

“Pianist to Captain Price, reading you loud and clear.”

#fanfic #call of duty fanfic #reader insert #captain john price #soap mctavish #simon ghost riley #reader is a pianist #reader needs a hug #I wrote this in impulse so pls excuse any grammatical mistakes #it is almost 12am when I am posting this #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #Youtube #4/7/24: part 2 is now up!#Spotify

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sorcerersseestars · 2 years ago

Text

his eyes, your ears [part iv]

series masterlist

Gojo Satoru x reader

summary: There was a time when you called him best friend, but those days escaped you long ago. There’s no way he’s alive – right? With the depth of his betrayal still lingering in your heart and mind, what would his reappearance spell for your life?

pairing: gojo satoru x gn! reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

warnings: cursing, lowkey a little mental torture, TW! s*xual a*sault (forced kiss), violence!!, one instance of vomiting (sry), immoral and creepy Geto, reader is kinda anxious nonstop (like writer like reader?), some details are non-canon (a/n 2.0 at end explains), also it’s slow for the first half but picks up I promise, I think I made Geto sound British???, also I made Hanami act like a mom kinda 💀 uh…im going to call it comic relief?

word count: 6.7k. oof.

a/n: I am literally SO SORRY that this has been sitting in my drafts for so long but… life happens! Along those lines – I wrote 1/2 of this in September and 1/2 of it in May, so it might be a bit disjointed sorryyy hehe

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“Then you’ll have to live with disappointment,” He flashes you an all-too-pleased-with-himself smile. “Becaaause it’s totally permanently in your phone now.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, right. As if I wouldn’t be able to delete a contact.”

He has a devilish smirk on his face, but his voice is annoyingly innocent and cheerful. “Go ahead, try!”

You gasp. “Gojo! Did you jailbreak my new phone?!”

“Uh, uh! That not what my contact reads as!” He snatches your phone from your hands, and points a large finger to the tiny name on your screen. “It’s ‘My Beloved Best Friend Satoru’!”

“Satoru,” You say dangerously. “Erase this or I’ll erase you from existence.”

He chuckles. “Oh, I’d love to see you try. You’re cute when you try to beat me.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you try to find words, and you try to ignore the heat on your cheeks. “S-Satoru! You asshole, give me my phone back!”

He holds it high above your head, a wide smile lingering on his face. He’s having way too much fun with this. You jump, trying to swat it out of his hand, but to no avail.

“Why did you even do this?” You grumble, sighing. “What, is it ‘how many ways can I torture (Y/N) in the span of a few hours’ day?”

He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re weak, remember? You gotta have me on speed dial if you want to survive in this line of work.”

First, your eyes widen at his blunt statement. Then you sigh again, this time a bit sadly. “Wow, you have so much faith in me…thanks.”

“You never know what’s out there,” Gojo says. “If you ever have any trouble, call me.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Is this a prank? I thought you hated ‘helping the weak’.”

“I’m serious, (Y/N),” He says firmly. “I’ll always pick up. Abuse the privilege, whatever, I don’t care. Just don’t die.”

Your head snaps towards him, mouth hanging open with shock. “Satoru, what…? I’m not going to…”

You fall silent. There’s no guarantee of that.

He steps closer to you, closer than what you’d consider friendly. Your heart skips a beat.

“Just do it, okay? I’ll always be on the other end.”

Always, huh? But now…

Ring, ring, ring. You bite your lip, pressing your phone hard against your ear, as if his voice will appear if you wish it enough. Ring, ring, ring.

“Please…” You whisper. “Come on, come on.”

Your breath hitches as the distinctive timbre of Satoru’s voice fills your ear, but your shoulders fall almost immediately.

“Hey, sorry I’ve missed your call! If you close your eyes, recite my name five times, and spin around twice, I might get back to ya! No exceptions – not even–”

You sigh and hang up before you’re put through to voice mail. It’s not like he’ll listen to it, anyway.

He’s been avoiding you. You haven’t seen him for days – six, to be exact. It’s been five days since Shoko deemed you well enough to recover at home, despite the worryingly slow rate that your cursed energy has been returning. You were released with the promise you wouldn’t exert yourself and absolutely would not use any cursed energy. All the while, you had childishly held two crossed fingers behind your back – your promise was as empty as you felt.

You should have expected this; this shouldn’t hurt so much. Gojo is the strongest sorcerer the world has seen for hundreds of years. He never runs from his foes – he doesn’t need to. When it comes to facing emotions, however, he is all but mighty. Whenever his emotions run high, overflowing until they begin to leak out into broad daylight, he turns tail and practically erases himself from existence. It’s nearly impossible to find him – he mysteriously leaves no trace, even for an experienced tracker like you.

You left Shoko with an empty smile and promise, and Gojo has done just the same. Despite him swearing that he’d be back to see you, Gojo is nowhere to be found. You’ve dropped by at the school multiple times, even asking his students if they knew of his whereabouts, but nobody has been able to give you an answer.

He’s been dodging your calls, letting it ring until his chirpy voicemail message mocks you. The text messages you leave go unread, unopened.

When you hopelessly reopen your chat with him, you can’t help but bite yoru nails as you stare at the wall of blue on your screen. Message after message – unfinished thoughts, apologies, words full of urgency and desperation – are left by trembling hands bloodied by your own worry.

‘I’m the strongest,’ He always says, so why does fear spike in your veins at the thought of Geto finding him?

Even though his own arrogant words ring through your head, you can’t quell the anxiety that threatens to wreak havoc over your fragile state. You’re worried, so worried, and it bleeds into the rest of your life: you’re all over the place, constantly forgetting appointments and important items, you are inexplicably tense, your breathing is constantly shallow and quick; you’re barely holding yourself together.

A few days ago, you had your meeting with Yaga, alone, which went just as horribly as you could have imagined, but you were thankfully spared contact with the higher-ups due to your condition.

But you’re almost all better now – at least physically. That’s why you’re back again, ready for another round of manipulation and abuse.

You’re out of it, so out of it. Your eyes are glazed over, and nothing they say registers in your mind. Even when you try to focus on the words leaving their mouths, your brain filters it all back into mindless noise.

There’s a sequence of very familiar syllables: ah, your name is being shouted. You look up with empty eyes, blinking slowly.

“Useless sorcerer, answer me, now!” Gakuganji roars. “You are testing our patience, and I’ve just about run out of it. Can you track him, or not?”

You breathe in shakily, and let out a weak, clueless, “What?”

“Track him, or they’re dead,” He spits. “Track Geto Suguru. Find him. We won’t wait long. If you haven’t reported back in a week, your parents won’t be able to enjoy their retirement any longer.”

Some of the other council members shift uncomfortably at his bluntness, but you barely even flinch.

You’re so tired of it all. You almost wish you had encouraged Gojo to just off them once and for all.

“Okay,” You mumble softly, lacking the energy to project your voice. “I can do it. I will track Geto Suguru.”

You drag yourself out without acknowledging them, without any show of respect, but the thought of caring is lost on you. Your apathy leaves a trail of displeased whispers, but you don’t even notice.

You speed-dial his number again and again and again, and are returned with nothing but the taunt of his cheerfully recorded memo.

When you finally look away from his contact info burning your retinas, your gaze is trained on the clear sky. It shouldn’t be so vivid, shouldn’t be so beautiful – today should be overcast and rainy. You can’t help but frown, but your eyes remain on the heavens.

Then you’re granted a sight that usually coaxes a smile out of you no matter how you feel: a particularly large gust of wind lays out a collection of reddening autumn leaves against the azure sky. They swirl and dance in the breeze, hovering in your field of vision for a few more moments before they are whipped away.

It’s a sign of the changing of seasons – it has always been one of your favorite times of the year, especially during your years at Tokyo Jujutsu High. The rapid approach of the holidays and the time spent training with your classmates in the chilly air has always enlivened you.

Today, this sight drives fat tears to roll down your cheeks. It just serves to remind you of the juxtaposition between those blissful times and these turbulent times: the weight of Geto’s betrayal, his subsequent death, his impossible revival.

You turn your head to the side, eyes tracking the leaves as they dance into the distance.

“So I’m really doing this then,” You whisper to yourself. “Yeah, guess I am. You’re not here to stop me…”

They’re far from Tokyo, much further than they were before. That much is obvious from the start, when you first scour for their residuals. After a disappointing first try by Jujutsu High - you shouldn’t expected much, anyway - you decide to return to their last known location: the forest you nearly were obliterated in. You dread returning there, but you have little choice unless you want to do a whole lot of guesswork.

You drive yourself there. Usually, you would be accompanied by your usual driver Ijichi, but the thought of asking him didn’t even cross your mind. In the eyes of the Jujutsu world, this is a suicide mission. You’re well aware of that: so why involve anyway else unnecessarily, risking innocent lives?

You’re grateful for the calming scenery that blurs by: miles and miles of inhabited land, solely occupied by woodland’s creatures. Hardly any curses are present in the countryside, as there are no humans to feed off of. Those special grades you faced were certainly the exception.

You pull over to the edge of the forest once you sense a steady stream of cursed energy. The residual energy is at least a week old - just around the time of your unfortunate encounter with them. You close your eyes and carefully sift through all of the cursed energy signatures left behind, immediately identifying Hanami’s and Jogo’s faint residuals. There’s one stronger energy, and very familiar: Satoru’s cursed energy.

His cursed energy is so easy to pick out, no matter where you are. It’s so bright and lively, practically humming under your fingers every time you sense it, almost as if it were your own.

But there’s a shadow – his energy shadows another. You concentrate, sensing an underlying current of a more recent energy. Your eyes fly open, startled by your discovery. It is much fresher than the others: the residuals are only a few days old.

Its signature is both unknown and yet alarmingly familiar. It’s dark, so dark. Its energy chokes you, holds you hostage with the way it starts to stick to you and steal your courage with its oppressiveness. You’ve never felt an energy quite like this, yet it feels all too familiar.

You begin to shake, the reality sinking in. “Geto…. Just what have you become?”

You shakily clamber back into the driver’s seat, firmly gripping the steering wheel with sweaty hands. Geto was here. Geto knows that you and Satoru were in the same vicinity as Jogo and Hanami. There’s absolutely no way he doesn’t know — you carelessly hadn’t wiped your residuals or even tried to cover your tracks.

You step on the gas. You keep your cursed energy flowing as you speed down the road, revealing a murky trail of residuals to follow. His cursed energy is so distinctly foul that you can pick it out from the rest with little effort. It’s overwhelming and makes you nauseous. Cursed with a twist of familiarity – a sickening combination.

Your mind begins to race. Is this how Gojo felt back then? No, it must have been so much worse, tracking one of your soulmates down with the intent to…to kill. And now you’re being forced to track him down again, just so the higher-ups can order Gojo to repeat history, just so your best friends will be forced to fight until one is–

You jerk the steering wheel over, making for a rough pull-over job. You throw yourself out of the car as quickly as possible before retching your stomach’s contents out onto the dark pavement.

The old wounds in your heart flare up; you clutch your chest desperately.

You are not strong enough to protect your parents - but are you strong enough to survive the alternative, the reality you and Gojo can’t help but deny?

“I have to,” You whisper to yourself. “I have to do this. I have no power in this world, I’m not the strongest…so this is all I can do.”

And so you are off again, this time unwavering from the course you’re set on.

By the time you reach Kyoto, an untimely five hours of panicked driving later, their residuals are so apparent that you hardly have to try. It’s almost as if they’re luring you in, the most sensitive tracker known in the Jujutsu world; why else would they leave behind such obvious traces of their cursed energy?

You ignore your instincts that scream for you to turn back, and instead continue into the outskirts of the most outer part of the residential areas – the residuals lead you far from the city itself.

As you venture further into the countryside, your stomach begins to clench. The residuals are much stronger now, but not alarmingly so. They should still be miles and miles out, perhaps 40 or 50 – there should be enough distance to not alert them of your presence. However, as a precaution, you stretch your hearing beyond the range of any normal human. You still feel unsettled, even with the extra layer of protection.

This is dumb. This is a terrible idea. Yet, you keep your foot firmly on the gas pedal.

You are suddenly flooded with an overwhelming wave of noise. Your brain barely has a second to process what your ears pick up: the roar of an object hurtling towards your car. You swerve to the roadside, and you’re barely fast enough: the driver’s side door is nearly scraped off, and it begins to smolder.

It shouldn’t be possible. They shouldn’t be here. Not again.

Running on pure adrenaline, you rip your seatbelt off and throw yourself to the passenger’s side door, seeking an escape from the next impending strike. Your hearing is more sensitive from your frenzied state, and you hear the next meteor much earlier this time. You rely on your hearing, on your hearing only: it will tell you where to dodge.

You climb out of the car, wheezing on smoke and fumes, and take off running. You gasp at the sound of the next meteor closing in on you and quickly dive away, throwing yourself to the ground and covering your head with your hands. The explosion is so intense that even after reducing your hearing, you feel the shock reverberate through your body and overpower any other sensation you feel.

After the ringing in your ears lets up for a moment, you finally feel the aftermath of the blast: shards of heated rock are embedded in your side, scorching your skin. There’s no time to even think about it: you’re up and running away from the voices that soon enter your hearing.

“You imbecile! Do you always have to do the opposite of what you’ve been ordered?” The grating tones of Hanami enter your ears as he hisses at Jogo. “He said captured alive! Or would you rather face his wrath?”

Captured? So they had been expecting your arrival; it was a trap all along.

“Relax, I haven’t even made a scratch yet!” Jogo shouts back.

“You’re embarrassing yourself in many ways,” Hanami scoffs. “If your intention was to kill, I will begin to further doubt your abilities. I already had to rescue you from that sorcerer, or has your pea-brain already forgotten that failure after it fell off of your body?”

“Shut up already,” Jogo growls. “I got it, okay?”

You truly don’t know what to do. Your last encounter made it very clear that you are solely a tracker with limited offensive ability. Hell, you didn’t even try last time because you knew it be to utterly pointless – the result would turn out no better if you tried now. Two special grades against a Grade 1 sorcerer with Grade 2 offensive abilities? You don’t stand a chance in that regard.

They’re in too close of proximity to disguise your presence – cutting off your cursed energy would be pointless. There’s only one other trick up your sleeve to increase your chances of surviving if they do decide to attack again.

You feel their cursed energies so much more clearly – when you steal a glance behind yourself, you can faintly see them in the distance. Not good.

Jogo suddenly barks out a laugh. “Boss never said we couldn’t rough anybody up though, did he? Got you there, dumbass! Don’t try to stop me!”

Really not good.

There’s a sudden spike in cursed energy – and that energy is heading straight for you. You try to dodge, but your reaction is too late. You feel the heat even before the impact, and you decide you definitely need to utilize your other ability. It’s not perfect, nor is it a full-fledged technique yet, but you have little choice but to use it now.

You concentrate all your energy into the side that will take the hit, and imagine an impenetrable wall. You think of Gojo’s Infinity: the space that can never crossed, no matter how much force is exerted. You don’t have the ability to manipulate space like Gojo, but your shield imitates his impenetrability.

Jogo’s fiery body slams into your side. Your breath is instantly knocked out of you, and the searing pain returns. Your shield absorbs the brunt of the strike, but you’re still knocked back at least thirty feet. You tumble into the undergrowth, your back squarely hitting a tree in your path.

You can’t stop the howl that escapes your lungs, and the ragged breathing that follows.

“They tried to stop it! It wasn’t even a fraction of my power and they couldn’t stop it! And you’re telling me that Gojo Satoru is interested in them?” Jogo howls in laughter. “How pathetic!”

At your next blink, Jogo has materialized in front of you. You weakly stagger to the side, wanting to get away but knowing you can’t deep down. They’re just toying with you – if they decided to get rid of you, they’d be able to almost instantly.

Jogo shouts loudly, “So weak it makes me sick! You can only run away, huh? Boss is right – creatures like you are disgusting.”

He rushes forward again, and you rush to encase yourself in your imperfect shield. To your surprise, you are not struck down: instead, you’re…in his arms??

“Hanami! Since you won’t let me have anymore fun, I guess we should go back,” Jogo yells across the clearing to the other Special Grade.

A burst of petals flies past your eyes; Hanami emerges from a newly-grown patch of flowers. They don’t say anything, but they approach Jogo and stand right over his shoulder. Jogo eyes Hanami suspiciously.

“Why are you hovering over me?” Jogo grumbles. “Stay away, tree hugger.”

“It’s almost as if he knew you were going to pull this,” Hanami huffs. “There’s a reason I’ve been keeping an eye on you.”

“They’re alive, that was the only request. Did Boss put you up to that ‘good guy’ act, huh? Agh, such arrogant scum! Thinks he can tell me what to do?”

Despite your shield, Jogo’s heat begins to affect you. You cough violently, and when you glance at your hands you see rivulets of red.

“Yes, I think that’s accurate, considering you call him ‘Boss’. Now, hand them over before they go up in flames.”

Jogo grunts unhappily, but complies. You’re transferred to the rough bark limbs of the tree cursed spirit. Hanami sighs at the sight of your angry red burns, eyeing Jogo, “Such a barbaric curse…destructive to all life and environment.”

“HAH! You-!” Jogo guffaws. “I’ve see you uproot your own forests! Environmentally friendly my ass! Shut your trap.”

You wince from his loudness.

“So obnoxious, isn’t he? Well, you’re the lucky one here - you get to take a nap,” Hanami says. “Rest well before your…‘meeting’.”

Your pulse quickens at the expression on the curse’s face: a demented sort of excitement. There’s a sweet floral smell that falls over you, and then you begin to grow sleepy. Your eyelids start to flutter as you try to fight it – but you are eventually pulled deep into a dreamless sleep.

You are roused from your sleep by the touch of another. A hand on your forehead – a comforting presence. It’s warm, and familiar. You’re about to smile widely and look deep into his crystal eyes, but when your bleary eyes begin to focus, your heart stops.

There’s an easy, gentle smile on his face. His dark eyes shine brightly, but your own can’t help but drift to the obvious surgical scar running across his entire forehead.

Your reflexes kick in: you smack his hand away, rejecting the unwanted touch, and fall into a defensive stance. He lets out a hum of amusement, but otherwise does not react.

“My old friend,” Geto Suguru coos. “How wonderful it is to see you again. Never thought I’d be able to – what a gift your presence is, my dear.”

It’s then that you realize that you’re shaking; your chattering teeth render you unable to let any words out.

“Did Jogo and Hanami rough you up again? How rude of them,” He sighs. “But don’t be scared, it’s just your old friend Suguru.”

He stops to let his eyes roam over your hunched form. A sickening smirk spreads across his face – sickening because it’s just like the sweet smiles he used to give you.

“You know, you really are the best tracker around. I have to say, I’m quite impressed. Too bad I know all your little tricks, though. Did you like the surprise I set up especially for you?” He smirks. “It’s hard to catch such a talented tracker as you off guard, but I think I managed quite well. You didn’t detect a thing, did you? They were supposed to be much further away, I know…it’s fascinating, isn’t it, the feats you can achieve through sorcery?”

You only stare at him in horror.

“No? Well, I know at least Jogo enjoyed it,” He says with a soft laugh, but his next words cause icy chills to run down your spine. “But I think I enjoyed it the most. The look on your face…was perfect.”

Your stomach turns at his words. His gaze is even worse: there’s a hungry, disturbing glint to them. Your eyes flit from his sharp onyx eyes to his traditional wear: his inky yukata and gilded kasaya are elegant and beautiful, but emanate darkness.

“Forgot what I looked like? It has been a while, hasn’t it?” Geto smiles. His smile is soft and almost sweet, but out of place; its familiarity makes your stomach churn.

“You shouldn’t be here,” You finally speak, voice quiet and cracking. “You shouldn’t exist.”

“That’s a bit harsh, doll. I’m not the only one who doesn’t belong in this world,” He says, lip curled in disgust. “Monkeys roam the earth. That’s more of a disgrace than my existence…I hope you’d agree.”

You only manage to gasp out, “How are you even here?”

His eyes meet yours, crinkling in a dark sort of amusement. “You’d love to know, wouldn’t you? There’s a price to pay for that knowledge, doll.”

“You’d…Geto would never hurt me,” You whimper. “Never.”

Geto just smiles. “I wouldn’t? Maybe not.”

His piercing eyes seem to see stare right through you. “But what about my best friend?”

You freeze.

“Is that such an uncomfortable thought?” He chuckles a little too lightly. “Never thought about it even once? Not even after he killed me?”

He tuts at you, clicking his tongue. “Sweetheart, I knew you were blinded by him, but never to this degree. How low you have fallen…”

He moves closer. Your breath is trapped in your lungs and you can’t move.

“One toe out of line and you might end up like me. Don’t you see?” He shakes his head.

Hot anger flashes through you, and your tongue lashes out before you can think. “One toe out of line? No. No. You committed genocide. You murdered your entire family in the name of it. For what? A delusional dream?”

He sighs. “Of course. So brainwashed…you’re practically a monkey. How disappointing. You don’t get it, do you? I was apparently his everything, and look how I ended up.”

“You’re not Geto!” You cry out. “You can’t be.”

He laughs softly, but his gaze is razor-sharp. “Are you sure these aren’t Geto’s thoughts?”

You bite your lip in nervous thought. “Ge- you…why am I here?”

He ignores your question as he begins to circle you like a hawk, eyes sharp and hungry. “You know, you’re not quite what I imagined you to be.”

You take a few tentative steps back, trying to subtly increase the distance between you and the living corpse in front of you, but he strides over to your side when he notices.

“I’m just so curious,” He says, eyes raking over your figure. “You really are (Y/N), aren’t you? Fits the descriptions…”

The blood drains from your face. You back away from his seeking hands that threaten to touch you, to investigate you.

“There’s a disgusting amount of papers with your name written all over them – I don’t think Hanami would have liked me much before. Such a waste of stationery,” He says, his twisted smirk pulling shivers down your spine. “Why was I so fixated on you? You don’t look like anything special. Don’t tell me…I actually fell for someone as plain as you?”

“What?” You breathe out, eyes wide, mouth parted in surprise. “Geto, you…he…it wasn’t like that.”

“And you didn’t even know,” He coos in faux pity. “How cruel to find out in this way. Seems like you have only ever focused on my former equal. You only pay attention to the strongest – how shallow. What did I ever see in you?”

“I- that’s not-“ You try to form a sentence, deny it, say it’s not true because it truly isn’t, but your tongue and vocal chords won’t cooperate with you.

“When confronted with the truth, humans get tongue tied,” He smiles, voice dripping with mockery. “How precious. What a good little monkey you are – so unbearably typical, so exemplary of your species.”

“Stop,” You gasp out.

“What, sweets? Can’t handle the truth?”

“Don’t call me that,” You try to say with conviction, but it leaves you weakly and softly, almost a plea.

“What, you only like it when he calls you that?” He says with a dark chuckle. “How pathetic. How much has you brainwashed you into thinking he acutally wants anything to do with you? Gojo doesn’t like to get attached. And even when he does–”

He leans forward, invading your space, pressing up too closely to your body. “–sometimes you still end up dead.”

“Stop,” You beg. “Get away from me. You’re-you’re scaring me, Suguru.”

“Am I?” He smirks. “Oh, I’m sorry. I know what to do to make you forgive me, though. Used to work on Shoko, too.”

“No, stop!” You cry, ragged breaths leaving you. “This isn’t you, stop, please, stop!”

“You’re right,” He smiles wickedly, eyes dark. “It’s not.”

His lips meet yours. It burns your skin, but not pleasantly – it’s all wrong, and it hurts. You shove him away with as much force as you can, leaving him stumbling back a few paces. He laughs. He laughs.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” He chuckles, amused. “You’re stronger than you used to be. Maybe you actually live up to being Grade 1 now, huh?”

“Who are you?!” You cry out. “Why did you bring me here?”

“I’m Geto Suguru,” He says with a crazed smile. “Is it that hard to believe when my body was never retrieved?”

“What do you want from me?” You snarl, growing angry. “You’ve just been toying with me, you bastard. Trying to play all these mind games on me, leaving your dirty work to your underlings. None of it feels substantial enough to kidnap me.”

A cackle escapes Geto, “You’re right, it isn’t. By yourself, you aren’t of any interest to me. Just a memento of the past – I don’t have any use for you.”

He continues with a smirk, “I have to say though, your reactions have piqued my interest slightly. Jogo seems to feel the same way. Perhaps if you could be our little monkey for entertainment - it might keep Jogo out of trouble elsewhere.”

Reduced to entertainment.

“You’re sick,” You say, shaking your head.

“Hardly. It’s only natural treatment for someone so unimportant. Should I be frank?” He asks, touching his chin to mock contemplation. “You are here solely as means of luring him out.”

You break out in a cold sweat. It was as you suspected and feared: you are only bait. Bait for the strongest.

“He won’t come,” You declare. “This is pointless.”

“Do you take me as an idiot monkey?” Geto frowns. “You’re not the only one who can read residuals. He came last time, and he will come this time.”

“He doesn’t know,” You hiss. “He won’t come. He doesn’t want to see me right now.”

Geto only smiles. “He’ll come.”

His confidence scares you. Even though it would be very unlikely Gojo is even aware that you’re away on a mission, doubt still swirls in your gut. You don’t want him to walk into this trap – who knows what Geto has planned?

While you mull over your thoughts, Geto grows impatient.

“This is quite dull. Let’s test your strength, First Grader,” He smirks. “Maybe they’ll pass you to Special Grade if you can land a single hit.”

Suddenly, your breath is stolen from you. You double over in pain, caught off guard by the assault to your stomach. It was only a kick, but it was the hardest you’ve been hit in your entire life by another sorcerer.

“Silly me, I’ve forgotten my manners,” Geto says drily. “When harkening back to our school days, I must ask if you’re ready before we spar.

But don’t forget, the enemy won’t wait for you. Didn’t we learn that?”

Satoru’s words. He would often preemptively attack before the sparring session officially began, and he would always recite those exact words. You feel sick.

You don’t respond, knowing it would take away from your focus. Instead, you concentrate on pouring your cursed energy into your hearing technique.

He begins his initial assault: he’s extremely agile, and his punches and kicks seem to come out of thin air. You anticipate his attacks with your highly developed sense of hearing, listening for each twitch of his muscles and the roar of his appendages slashing through the air. Essentially, you read his moves before he has finished them. Your body can’t always keep up with your hearing enough to avoid him, though, but the blows are lessened by your half-developed shielding.

You haven’t attempted a single hit of your own – all your energy has gone into avoiding each of his potent attacks. Every time you see an opening, your chance is ruined by another attack of his.

After a few minutes of religiously defending, your senses slow. You can hear everything, but you can’t physically keep up with him. You begin to take hit after hit after hit – until you’re forced to retreat several paces back. Blood drips from your nose, spilling into your mouth and filling your mouth with the metallic tang of iron. It tastes of defeat and cowardice.

“Are you sure you’re not a monkey?” Geto roars in laughter. “To call you a sorcerer is sacrilegious at best. How disappointing you are. Haven’t improved an ounce since our days together, have you? Other than that half-baked excuse of a technique - trying to imitate the strongest, perhaps?”

You ignore his taunts, using the time to draw out two small daggers from your sleeves. You fare better with bows, but the twin blades are better than nothing.

“What cute little pocket knives,” Geto jeers. “They look sharp.”

“Want to find out?” You growl.

He scoffs. “I’d like to see you try.”

It is a dance that never ends – you are held captive by the need to defend yourself, not able to stop without the fear of further injury. You are slowly giving up hope when time seems to slow down. Your breath hitches as you spot what you need desperately: an opening. You zero in on the opening, thrusting your right hand into the open space. A spurt of red splashes your hand – your aim was true.

You step back immediately, parrying his retaliating blow with your other blade. More droplets spill over you, a shower of red that makes you nauseous.

You’re breathing hard. You haven’t fought with a sorcerer – or even a curse – for a long time, and it’s taking more of your strength than you anticipated.

Geto doubles over, which fills you with confusion. There’s no way those two nicks did any substantial damage, so why is he hunched over in pain?

And then you hear it. Laughter. Crazed laughter erupts from him in waves. When he looks up at you, the fear in the pit of your stomach intensifies. He’s not hurt – he’s pissed off. Very.

“I have to admit, you exceeded my expectations. But that’s not saying much when I expected nothing from a dirty monkey like you,” He spits. “What a brat.”

“If I recall correctly, you were the one who wanted to spar like old times,” You glare, grip tightening on your daggers. “It was only per your suggestion.”

“Your insolence boils my blood…how does he care for someone like you?! How did I?!” He roars. “You are nothing!”

He rushes forward faster than you can register and knocks you to the ground. You instinctively roll out of the way and are still nearly stomped on. You try to stand up, or even just sit up, but can’t. You begin to panic – you feel frozen in place, unable to even turn your head.

“Now you can’t run away,” He growls. “Should I make it a little unbearable? You deserve it.”

You feel a great pressure forcing your body into the ground. It’s excruciating; you feel as if your bones are grinding together and all your muscles are compressed. You can’t bite back the cry that erupts from your throat.

“Now you really feel the gravity of the situation,” He says with a demented smile. “You know, maybe I don’t need you anyway. He can just come to retrieve your body. Can’t make the same mistake twice, after all. Leaving a body to rot is a vulnerability. I could fix that for him, too…leave a puddle where you used to stand? If I crush you long enough, perhaps…”

“Fuck you,” You manage to get out. “You’ll never win. You’ll never beat Satoru.”

You fall flat on your face, coughing, as you are released from his technique. You try to push yourself up, but you only manage to a kneeling position. Not that it matters anyway, not when you are grabbed by your throat and hoisted in the air.

“Do you always make so many mistakes?” He hisses. “It’s like you want me to kill you.”

You couldn’t respond even if you wanted to with how hard he’s clutching your trachea. You have no idea when you dropped your blades, but they’re not in your hands now, so you have to resort to pitifully clawing at his grip with your bare hands.

Your vision begins to blur and darken as you asphyxiate. Howls of laughter ring in your ears, getting quieter and then louder as your hearing fades in and out.

Is this how it will end? No, it can’t, you can’t let it. You can’t leave yourself to die at the hands of Geto Suguru. You can’t die at the hands of your former friend, and be found by your other best friend. You can’t do that to him.

You claw harder, more desperately, even though you feel yourself weakening. It’s futile – his grip won’t even loosen at your efforts.

You have to use your weaker technique. If you do it perfectly, it might propel him from your body, giving you a chance to escape. Escape to where, you don’t know, but you need to try. You don’t have any chance otherwise.

With a burst of strength you didn’t know you had, you focus all of your cursed energy into the skin that is touching Geto. Your close your eyes, visualizing the perfect invisible wall that encases Gojo – no flaws, no gaps, no way to get past – and then you release your energy.

There’s a loud smack that resonates through the air, and then you crumple to the ground. When you look up, you can see a hard shell jutting between you and Geto, effectively shielding you. Geto is clutching his arm, which is now red and swollen.

You actually did it. It was a perfect use of your technique.

“You are frustrating, but no matter. I have other methods at my disposal. Didn’t think I’d have to pull this on you, but you seem to be begging for your demise, so I might as well use it,” He grits his teeth, and holds one arm out, his forearm curling up.

A ball of black energy appears at his fist. It is nebulous and shifts as it grows bigger. It begins to glow as time passes, as it amasses more energy. You have no idea what that is, but you highly doubt your shield will be able to block it. As you think about your options, your shield begins to fade away – you are nearly out of cursed energy. You are wide-eyed as you watch the last sections of your shield dissipate to nothing.

Entirely defenseless, you heave yourself to a standing position and try to stumble away. You fall to one knee in agony – Jogo and Geto have taken a toll on you.

You look over to see the ball of darkness leave Geto’s fingers. You are frozen, knowing you can do nothing, but also knowing you will die if you do nothing.

It approaches, and you close your eyes. Hopefully it will completely destroy you in a single instant, so it won’t be torturous. At least you won’t be in pain for long.

It’s going to hit you. And then you suppose it does. You feel weightless, like you weigh nothing. Perhaps your body has been destroyed, and this is how your brain is processing the absence of your nerve endings.

But if you are not here anymore, why does the wind whip through your ears?

You were mistaken. You don’t just feel weightless, you are weightless.

When you open your eyes, tears spill out at the sight in front of you. Tousled white hair, a blindfold tucked over his eyes, rigid determination showing through his features.

“I didn’t know this is where we were holding the school reunion. Class of ‘007, except Geto went all rogue and didn’t end up graduating. What a failure!”

His words are playful, and he’s smiling, but somehow his tone doesn’t match. It’s serious and dark, not at all jocular. He seems to be making an effort to keep up his lighthearted persona, but his true feelings can’t help but bleed out.

“Ah, you finally showed up,” Geto cackles. “It’s not good to have a weakness. I was about to do you a favor.”

Gojo laughs bitterly, “Don’t you know? Strength comes from weaknesses. Not that you would understand.”

“In any case…” He looks down at you. “I won’t let you take away my strongest weakness.”

next part

a/n 2.0: Okay so, idk how it 100% is in the manga bc I haven’t read it, but basically this ‘Geto’ (*cough* Kenjaku) has thoughts that are Kenjaku but with some of Geto’s memories ?? .. sorry if that’s non canon heehee

Bonus!!: Also I’ve been learning some Japanese so here is Gojo’ name spelled out: ごじょさとる。This is more for my own enjoyment 🫣 but here you go lol

tag list: @thenyxsky, @whitehairedtwink, @screwyou3

also thank you @zoyatoshi for your such sweet reblogs 🥹🥹 literally inspired me to finish this chapter up after 6+ months !!

#gojo satoru x reader #reader needs a hug #gojo satoru needs a hug #geto suguru #Jujutsu Kaisen #jjk angst #angst/comfort #hurt/comfort #geto suguru needs a hug but he’s not getting one

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cherryinsalemverse · 2 years ago

Text

Batmom!Reader x Batfam

Summary: It is a fic inspired by that one youtube playlist. Wordcount: 1136 Warnings: I do NOT own anything in this fic! The characters nor the playlist! But please check the playlist it is awesome! Also this is my first fic and English is not my mother tongue. I'm sorry for every grammar mistake I made. Please enjoy.

You wanted to believe that it was a joke. You wanted to believe that he made it in time. That Jason was still alive. You wanted to, with every cell in your body. Yet you knew. Bruce would never lie to you. He would never make a joke that would hurt you.

The news crushed your heart into million pieces, it crushed your life apart too. At first, you were angry at yourself. You knew the second Jason was the new Robin. You knew you should have prevented it. Instead of helping him to be a better fighter to protect himself, you should have protected him from his choices. He was just a kid. Your kid. With or without blood.

You loved Jason as much as you loved Dick. Definitely more than yourself and maybe more than Bruce too. And it saddened you the moment he told you, you were not his 'mom'. You knew it was the heat of the argument. You both got louder and louder and being stubborn none of you took a step back. He screamed.

"You can't just try to push yourself into my life! I fucking hate you! Stay away from me, you're not even my mom for fucks sake. You're just a pretend, playing house with Bruce!"

If you checked on him that night -when he left home- if you reached out to him instead of drowning in your own pain maybe you wouldn't be burning in a much stronger sorrow now. Because damn it hurt, it hurt you so much what he said to you. You tried to let it pass. 'He is a kid, he doesn't mean it.' But it didn't pass, it didn't get better. It only got worse the more time passed. His last words were ringing in your ears.

His leaving was like a knife through your chest. You knew you would never feel better till you find him. You told yourself that you would talk with him and let him go if he still wouldn't want to be your boy. Your sweet boy. As long as he was safe, you would accept anything. But the knife through your chest only went deeper with time and pierced your heart when you learned he was long gone.

Time would heal any wound they said. Your wound only bled more. Dick was there for you. And Tim after him. Bruce was distancing himself. You couldn't help him then. Couldn't find the words in you to take him out of his guilt. No. Because once you got out of blaming yourself, you blamed him. It was his idea in the first place to take children to fight. It was him who couldn't protect your little angel. It was him who couldn't find him in time, get to him in time. Let him die and perish in the hands of a criminal who got away with way too much death. And it drove you nuts when he didn't avenge your son. How could he, let the man loose and alive after all that happened.

At last, you blamed the man himself. The clown that haunted your dreams. The Joker. That bastard was the real one you should blame. And you did indeed. You swear on your life that you would take down him even if you had to go down as well. You were not one to break her promises.

Parting your way from Bruce, you suit up as the Scarlet. Lady Death, The Rednight. You didn't care about others than the Joker. As long as they were not connected you made alliances with the rest of the villains even. You needed resources of income and intel since Bruce was onto your back. At every chance, you got a hold of Joker he was there to save him from you. But you made it after much spent time. Learned from your mistakes and got yourself a chance to keep your promise. You tracked the bastard once he was out of Arkham.

"Did you miss me mama bird?" said Joker once you took off the sack on his head. His hands were tied at his sides open. Bones were broken on both of his arms as well as his kneecaps. You didn't want to kill him just yet, he didn't deserve a peaceful death. No. Just like the video he sent, he was gonna be broken down in every way possible. Yet he was laughing. You placed your gun in his mouth not caring to answer. He was seeing this as a play. You were not.

The window of the warehouse broke down when Bruce came in, in his Batman costume. You didn't flinch, way too used to his schemes. You took out your other gun and pointed at him.

"Scarlet, drop your guns." his tone was like steel. "Be reasonable, killing him won't change anything." You bent your head to the side slightly.

"You have no idea just how reasonable I've been," you said. "He took my boy and if you can't take him out, Batman, I can." you opened the safety of the gun which you were pointing at Bruce.

"You don't understand. I don't think you've ever understood." he shook his head taking a step towards you. "You're putting the city in danger, letting those hell creatures loose."

You shot the wall next to him, barely missing one of his arms. "Sending those creatures after her instead of myself was mercy." he stopped midstep. You knew with Bruce's protection Harley was safe. For now. "And despite your hypocrisies and insults, I begged you to safely get out of my way."

You turned your head to the Joker, ready to pull the trigger.

"No! God almighty. No. It'd be too damned easy." Bruce called out to you.

"All I ever wanted to do was kill him. A day doesn't go by when I don't think about subjecting him to every horrendous torture he has dealt out to others. And then end him."

"Then end him. Let's end this here, tonight. I missed you, I missed my boys." your voice was close to a whisper.

"But if I do that, if I allow myself to go down in that place I'll never come back." he took another step toward you, hands reached out.

"You've exhausted my patience. But I do hope you understand. And even now what's about to happen." you turned your head sharp to him, your teary eyes glowing with the moonlight with something like madness in them. You shot towards his leg. Bruces dodged the bullet with a somersault. Now being much closer to you.

"I won't miss one more time." you took your other gun out of Joker's mouth. The man started to giggle.

" This is me being reasonable." you pulled the trigger.

#batfam #batfam x reader #batfam x batmom!reader #bruce wayne x batmom #jason todd deserved better #we love jason todd #no beta we die like jason todd #please go easy on me #it is my first fic #jason is an angsty shit #bruce needs a hug #reader needs a hug #everyone needs a hug #how does the tags work #batman x reader #batmom #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader

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ginsakatoki · 2 years ago

Note

hey there!! may i request 2A with gintoki and s/o? fluff or angst, all up to you darls!

[Rules] [Masterlist]

It had been a month since you and Gintoki broke up, the two of you had realized that you had very different ways to show love and that you weren’t able to satisfy each other’s needs as well as you wished to. It was hard, but you both agreed on it and didn’t look back. You did think back though, or at the very least, you did.

Being a florist in Edo wasn’t particularly hard, but it wasn’t a walk in the park either, especially after a breakup. For some reason, right after you left Gintoki, you found yourself submerged with young men wanting to buy flowers for their partners, and every single one of them seemed to think you wanted to know how special their ‘special person’ was. You didn’t. You were starting to become the Grinch of romance, and all those pretty flowers that you once loved were starting to become curses and thorns you wanted to remove from your side.

“Excuse me ma’am, could I have a bouquet of Forget-Me-Not?”

The request of that specific flower made you snap. It was your flower, the one Gintoki had gifted you on your first date, a flower that means true love and faithfulness, a promise not to ever forget each other.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you’re going to break up anyway! Don’t. Bother!” But as you looked up you saw the last person you expected to meet, his smug smirk and crossed arms making him appear more and more cocky as he looked you up and down.

“Looks like I’m not the only snappy one this morning. Still, ma’am, my mistress and I already broke up so. Will you give me the bouquet or not?”

You worked in silence, making the composition while trying to steal glances at the man without being noticed, but his red eyes were fixed on you, looking at every single movement you made. Once you were done you gave it to him and expected him to give it back, but he didn’t. He placed some money on the counter (it wasn’t even enough to pay for the flowers but you were too shocked to notice) and then left without saying a word. You could feel anger, almost hatred, flow in your body: could the flowers be for another woman? You couldn’t believe he would do something like that… would he?

You turned around, ready to close the shop early, storm out and go home, but you found yourself into a warm chest, arms wrapped around you as if that was the most natural thing in the world.

“You still have the bad habit of leaving the back door open. What if a thief comes in?”

You didn’t want to admit that you always left the door open hoping that he would come in to surprise you like he used to when you were dating. You were rigid in his arms, too stubborn to lean in and let him know how much you craved his touch. You heard a soft sigh before the silence was interrupted by his deep voice once more.

“I miss you. If it’s not too much to ask, could you Forget-Me-Not?” As he said the name of the flower, he put the bouquet in your hands. You giggled a little at the pun, took one flower out and put it in his hair.

“I couldn’t even when I tried”.

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sevikasupremacy · 1 month ago

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STOP COS LOOK AT HER SAD PUPPY EYES

#I’m so happy that we get to see more of Sevika’s emotions this season #but now I just want to jump into the screen and hug her #wifey suffered enough we need to put an end to this #arcane #arcane x reader #sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika imagine #arcane fanfic #sevika x you #sevika x female reader #sevika x y/n

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teddybeartoji · 3 months ago

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suguru kisses your temple as he places your coffee in front of you, softly laughing at your still half-asleep expression before taking his seat right across from you. messy strands of hair cascade down over his shoulders and he tucks a few stray ones behind his ear, so his view is as clear as day – suguru needs to be able to see the way your eyebrows furrow as you yawn or he'll die. he needs to be able to see that sliver of skin that peeks from under your shirt, his shirt, as you stretch and rub your eyes or he'll die. he needs to be able to see the way your eyes widen just a tad at the first taste of the coffee, of the affection suguru offers you through a simple drink. it's him, it's all him.

he's everywhere – he's on your tongue as you swallow, he's in your nose as you inhale. he's on your skin as you get dressed every morning, he's in your head when you wake up. your shoes are clean and you know it's him, your laundry is done and you know it's him. there's a cup of coffee waiting for you and you know it's him. a pair of soft hands, a brush of lips against the shell of your ear and it's always him. he's everywhere you look, guarding and protecting, loving, and all he needs in return is the little sweet 'aahh' that tumbles from your lips just as you meet his eyes across the table.

you see the grin tugging on his lips before he hides it behind his own mug, the very same one you gifted him last christmas. his hands cup the ceramic with utmost care; he likes the warmth of it – of the coffee and of the adoration stored inside it.

under the table, your knees knock together.

under your ribs, your hearts stutter.

you're laughing and he's in love.

#LOVERBOY ALERTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11 #he makes me sick i need to hug him so tight his bones break #sugu #wtf mickey can write #geto x reader #geto fluff #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #geto suguru

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sansfangirl24 · 4 months ago

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Imagine Bakugo during your period

Like him just gently laying on your stomach cuz he's basically a human heating pad and getting your favorite snacks and cuddling

And if you have to go out he makes sure your in the most comfortable clothes ever and he plays your favorite music in the car without complaining and he makes sure you don't have to talk to anyone

But also knowing to back off when your ticked off. He lets you pout in bed and just knocks on the door ever few minutes to drop off snacks and drinks for you and after like an hour or two he'll come see if your in a better mood so he can cuddle you again

I need him so bad

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emisprocrastinatingbywriting · 8 months ago

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Alone and Forsaken

Chapter 7 Summary:

Two weeks after your heat and Joel Miller remained by your side constantly but refused to touch you. Promises are made but after an outburst, can Joel finally open up to you?

Warnings: Past Trauma, Minor Injuries, Angst and Fluff, Smut, Reader & Joel need hugs fr, Local middle aged man tries to open up, Fluffiness overload, Joel gets injured.

A/N: I'm back! Third year at uni is in the bag but exams almost killed me. It's a long one so buckle up for more backstory on the reader, more loverboy Joel and painful confessions. Fluff and smut galore, as always. Warning that some of reader's memories include physical assault and Joel dives into some of his trauma. Take care of yourselves as always!

Chapter 7/20

Chapter 7: Home

“Bring her around back, I want to talk to her.”

A pair of arms wrapped around you and hauled you out of the trunk. A dull throb was pulsing behind your eyes as the guard threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Blood dripped from your face and you watched through bleary eyes as it splattered against the back of the guard’s coat.

Two months. Two fucking months of being free, and they had found you because of a mistake. After a month of keeping fires low, slinking around the outskirts of towns and leaving no traces behind, you had been lulled into a sense of comfort. Escaping Paul had been the easy part, traveling alone as an unmated omega was the hard part. After too many close calls with roving bands of raiders that picked through the wreckage of the world for anything they could steal, or anyone, you decided that cities were not for you.

After walking for days along a cracked interstate with nothing but trees to keep you company, you came across a weathered town that looked like it had been dilapidated long before the outbreak. Most of the buildings were barely standing, years of neglect making them shake and shiver in the wind. You walked for nearly an hour before you found a structure that didn’t look like it was going to be torn down by the next rainstorm.

Sat at the very edge of town, away from the main road and any of the residential buildings was a small diner that looked frozen in time. As you pushed open the front door, the bell that hung over it announced your entry. Freezing for a moment with your ears peeled for any indication of danger, the dust covered space greeted you with silence. You relaxed and crept slowly through the diner.

The checkered floors and leather booths reminded you of the Archie comics that your dad used to keep in the bathroom before the outbreak. It was a little run down, with dusty windows and peeling pink paint on the walls, but you loved it. You swept the building for any infected that could be lurking in the shadows, hands shaking as you braced for a stalker to attack. However, you found that your only company was a lonely skeleton in the back office. The shotgun was still propped between their knees and a jagged hole glared at you from the back of the stranger’s head. You winced at the brutal scene, quietly apologizing to the stranger as you eased the gun from their grasp.

The gun felt weird in your hands, too long and heavy with your only previous experience in shooting being a handgun. Still, dodging infected and raiders for the last month with nothing but a hunting knife had been close to impossible. You thought of your close calls. You thought of the shoe you had left behind in a department store after barely managing to squirm out of the grasp of an attacker. You thought of the night you had spent hidden in a vent while a ruthless group of alphas grew progressively angrier as they tried, and failed, to sniff you out. Suddenly the unwieldy 12 gauge felt like a luxury compared to your inevitable fate without it. As gently as you could, you flicked the safety on and placed it on the desk before looking around.

The office itself had clearly doubled as the stranger’s hideaway after the outbreak, with a cot left still unmade and jugs of water left from the previous occupant. The kitchen was still mostly stocked and had semi salvageable expired cans of food left on the shelves. Cobwebs caught in your hair as you moved through the place. The front windows were cloaked in dirt and overgrown shrubbery, effectively shrouding the inside of the dining room from prying eyes. After a month of constant running, this place felt like a sign that you were finally safe from the place you had once called home. You were free.

The month you spent living in the abandoned diner was the first time you felt like yourself. Days were spent pilfering through the abandoned town for anything of use, trading the modest clothes you escaped in for more breathable fabrics. After tossing the old outfit, you managed to get lucky finding some more shells for your gun, some soap and even a pair of boots that could replace your threadbare sneakers. Despite the growing pile of treasures in the tiny office, the real winner was the stash of smutty romances you stumbled upon.

The banned books that Jake had slipped to you back at camp were nothing compared to these. After two weeks, you had already burned through at least six. The best one, in your opinion, was the one with the handsome, older crime boss who finds a lonely bookkeeper and whisks her off into his chaotic life. After your second time rereading the story you decided it was time to pick up a hobby that wasn’t going to throw you into a heat.

You were unsure if Paul or Josiah were still looking for you but they were not the only threat. After some deliberation, you decided it was time to brush up on your self defense. For the next few days you jabbed and sliced at the air with your knife, trying to perfect your form in case any raider jumped out at you. With that perfected, you moved on to practicing your shot.

The first attempt was rough, the force from it nearly knocking you over, but you kept at it. Before long, trees, buildings, mailboxes and stop signs all became your targets. You walked freely through town with a gun in your hands and nobody to answer to. It made you feel powerful. A stupid feeling to have in hindsight.

Two months of dodging your fate ended with one of Josiah’s men taking you by surprise. The moment you returned from a stroll through town, the nameless alpha had slammed the but of a rifle into your nose. You tried to reach for the shotgun but it was kicked away, after which a boot entered your field of vision and knocked you unconscious. A bump in the road had awoken you in the trunk. After a cramped ride where you tried to not pass out from the pain in your skull, you were finally back home.

You could only assume that what you were being carried towards was your own dramatic execution. Josiah’s future words rang in your ears as you imagined him declaring that no one, not even family, was above his word. You imagined the tightness of your mother’s features as they hung you and hoped Rachel knew enough to keep Miriam away. She would be kicking and screaming at the guards. You could see it all so clearly and it didn’t even scare you anymore. In this world, there were worse fates. At least you had tasted freedom for a moment.

The wind was knocked out of you as the guard dumped you onto the ground. You groaned, a sharp sting growing on your side as you tried to get your bearings. Before you could place yourself, a large hand came down and wrenched your head backwards. Tears formed in your eyes from the sting in your scalp and you struggled to focus your bleary eyes.

“Welcome back Angel, you’ve been missed.”

As the fogginess in your vision dissipated, Paul’s pale face appeared with his thin lips pulled into a sinister grin. His blue eyes raked over your figure as you struggled weakly, amusement and sick lust making him smile wider. Paul tightened his grip and you winced. At that moment, you hated him so much for everything he had done and hated him even more for everything he was bound to do. Before you could even think about it, a wad of spit flew from your mouth and landed on his pale cheek.

Paul cussed and you laughed in his spit soaked face as it shifted into something much darker. In an instant he slammed your body down to the ground. Your skull thumped back against the earth and your ears started to ring. A groan bubbling up from your throat was cut off as Paul wrapped his hands around your neck. His eyes were cold in comparison to the sick pleasure portrayed on his face. You used every bit of strength to fight him off but it was no use. Paul laughed and leaned over you, his face inches from yours as he spoke.

“You know, if it was anyone else I would have let it go. But you,” your eyes bulged as his grip tightened, “You’re different. Sneaky, mouthy, and such a fucking tease. I knew you needed a strong alpha like me to train you, someone who wouldn’t spare the rod on your entitled ass.”

Despite the dots speckling the corners of your vision, you fought him as hard as you could. The smacks to his arms and chest got progressively weaker as your body succumbed to his grip around your neck. Your chest burned with the need for air, but you tried desperately to stay awake for as long as you could. This is it, you thought, this is how I’m going to die.

Just before the lack of oxygen finally took you under, Paul leaned down and whispered in your ear, “It’s okay Angel, you’ll be mine soon enough.”

A cry echoed in the quiet room. Your heart raced painfully in your chest, making it nearly impossible to breathe as you choked down sobs. The walls shrunk around you and the need to flee your surroundings suddenly became overwhelming.

As you moved to get up, a heavy weight across your chest stopped you. Terror pierced your racing heart as the warm object pinned you to the sheets. Paul’s grip on your neck still lurked in the corners of your mind and you started to thrash against the weight. A masculine grunt came from your left and you screeched, wrestling your way out from under the stranger. Clumsily, you dropped onto the floor and rolled away, scuttling back until your shoulder blades hit the wall.

“Darling? Wha - Hey, where’d you go?”

Your eyes snapped back up to the bed and the memory you were trapped in moments before began to slink away. A shaky sigh escaped your lips at the sight of a very groggy and confused looking Joel. He blinked down at you as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Joel’s curls were adorably flattened on one side of his head, meanwhile the other side looked like he had suffered an electrical shock. You sighed at the sight. The softness he exuded in the mornings suited him. You smiled weakly at him and his eyes narrowed at your trembling form against the wall.

Slowly, like a hunter trying not to scare a wobbly deer, Joel eased himself onto the floor. You tried to focus on tracing the scars on his burly chest with your eyes, unwilling to look at him head on as he knelt before you. Joel cupped your face, his rough hands making you hum as he tried to tilt your face towards him. After a few moments of dodging eye contact, you relented and slid your gaze up to meet his.

“Baby,” was all he said before you immediately broke down.

Joel shushed you as you burrowed your face into his neck, crying against his skin as he leaned back against the side of the bed. Gingerly, he pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his strong arms around you. He began to rub soothing circles against your hips, letting you snuffle at his musk as he whispered sweet nothings. You cried and Joel held you, pulling you back into his embrace each time you tried to pull away prematurely. After the third time that you tried to pull away from him, he snapped.

“God dammit honey, just cry. I won’t judge ya, just stop pulling away for Christ’s sake.”

You laughed at his words. It was like Joel knew you better than you knew yourself, like he knew that you had always had to be strong. He wanted you to be soft with him and so you let yourself cry. After a few minutes of sobbing against him, the shaking slowly ceased as the dream receded from your mind.

“Had another dream huh?” Joel asked quietly.

He sighed at your silent nod.

The dreams were a new addition to your night and they had taken a toll. After your heat had petered out, his rut had followed. You were worried at first, scared that he would retreat back to his place on the couch and pretend that nothing had happened. Joel had said he loved you during his rut, but he couldn’t have meant it. Right? The fear of losing him had plagued your mind the first morning. However, after a mere ten minutes of needless worrying, you were pleasantly surprised by a kiss dropped into your hair at breakfast.

“No oatmeal, as requested darling,” was murmured against your bedhead as Joel placed the plate in front of you.

Once you had bugged him about his promise that you could help out, the two of you had cleaned up in peaceful silence. Joel seemed to be in good spirits, even rolling his eyes when you whipped him with a towel halfway through the task. Despite the stern look on his face, you could see the small smile that pulled at the corners of his lips. The first night after your heat with Joel was perfect. With the burning need that raged through your bodies finally quelled, the two of you had slept soundly in each other’s arms.

It was the second night that a nightmare about Paul jerked you from sleep. Despite Joel’s vehement assurances, you were mortified at the memory. He had woken up that night to you kicking and screaming at him. As you fought against him, he had expertly rolled the two of you over and caged you in. Joel was patient that night, using gentle words to coax you back to reality until you were crying in his arms.

After that first nightmare, two weeks passed and every night the memory of Paul would come back to haunt you. The recurring dreams made you dread sleep. Each night, you tried everything to ignore the urge to rest. You read, you tried and failed to play guitar, you drew terrible caricatures that made Joel laugh, and you even risked his wrath by asking him about his past. Unfortunately for you, Joel had learned how to dodge your questions and began to take that as a cue that you needed to sleep. You tried to evade it but eventually he dragged you to bed, no matter how many probing questions you sent his way.

With two weeks gone, nothing had changed. Paul appeared each night to torment you and Joel comforted you afterwards. You felt guilty but he refused to accept any apology.

“S’not real darling. You’re here, you’re with me. I gotcha baby,” Joel crooned as you tried to match his steady breaths.

The shakes slowly petered out and you sighed, kissing his shoulder in thanks before you leaned back to look at him. Joel’s face nearly always remained schooled but his emotions were plain as day in his eyes. Worry, sadness, anger, and love, all danced in the pools of brown as they raked over your figure.

“It was him again, from when they caught me. He was choking me and no matter how hard I -,” you stopped and shook your head before the sobs started again.

There were a few other memories that had resurfaced in the past two weeks but that was the only one that came back consistently. Joel had listened to your account of the memory in full the first night it appeared, and you watched as he tried not to burst the blood vessel in his forehead. Rage poured off of him and soured his comforting scent, pulling a whine from you that forced him to soften his anger. He had remained soft every night since.

Joel pulled you from your thoughts as his forehead knocked against yours gently. You closed your eyes, breathing the same air as him for a moment as he brushed his hands up and down your sides. The warmth that radiated off of his skin eased the chill of the early morning and you sunk further into his lap as Joel tried to gather his words.

“I know that… I’ve… Well, you know after Sarah, there were a lot of nights where… Fuck… And with El- no… Shit honey, m’sorry, I’m real bad at this.”

You giggled and Joel huffed a laugh before he tried again.

“Memories have a bad habit of chasing you. And I’ve deserved mine for everything I- … Well, anyways, I know how it feels to have dreams make you feel like you did when they happened, but they’re not real. Not anymore, even if it feels like it,” he said.

Without opening your eyes, you asked quietly, “What happened to yours? Will my… Do they ever go away?”

Joel stiffened for a moment and you winced, rubbing your face against his neck until you felt him slowly relax again. His rut had certainly forced him to be vulnerable with you and after it was over, Joel tried hard to not close himself off again entirely. Whether it be through fleeting kisses or soft words, Joel Miller was trying for you, even though you could tell it was hard for him. It made you love him all the more.

“Honestly I don’t know. I had them every night before we… Well -,” he cleared his throat, “- before we - er - got together. But now I - I don’t know. They’re just gone. Maybe they’ll come back one day. I hope not, but who knows.”

You snorted.

“You have literally knotted me and you can’t bring yourself to say that we fucked? I can. We fucked. Easy as that, see?,” you jabbed.

Joel rolled his eyes and leaned forward to bite playfully at your shoulder as you squealed.

He tsked, “Tryin’ to be a gentleman here darling. Christ, you’ve got some mouth on ya.”

You laughed at his words and Joel smiled at your change in demeanor before you grew serious once more.

“I really hope my dreams go away too,” you whispered.

Joel made a sympathetic noise as you sat there sullenly, carding your fingers through the salt and pepper hair that covered his chest as you tried to blink away tears. Before you could sink too far into yourself, he snatched one of your hands from his chest and brought it to his lips. The small act made you forget the misery that panged in your heart and you smiled at him.

“Made you something,” he murmured.

Excitement rushed through you and you perked up. Joel laughed and lifted you back onto the bed, placing you gently on the soft sheets before he moved to get up. Before he could escape, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. Joel let out a surprised noise as your lips met his, freezing for a millisecond before he leaned in.

One calloused hand pushed you forward by the small of your back while the other held your neck in place. His tongue ran along the seam of your lips and you moaned, granting him access to your mouth. You whined at the heat that radiated off of Joel, all you could think about was how his warm body felt against your own while he slammed into you. Need crept up from your core, different from the need you experienced during your heat but no less demanding.

Before the two of you could get too carried away, Joel broke the kiss abruptly. His cheeks were dusted with pink and his lips were swollen. A string of spit connected your lips as you parted and you whined at the sight. You watched as Joel’s dilated pupils looked down at your lips, his irises slivers around the all consuming black that sent shivers down your spine.

You wanted this. You wanted him so badly that you could hardly think but as you moved to lean in once more, Joel cleared his throat and stood up. The whine that left you was embarrassing but you didn’t care, and it seemed neither did he. Without another word, he leaned down once more, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek before he stood up.

“Just gotta go get it, one sec.”

Joel spun on his heel and waltzed out of the room, leaving you with wetness gathering between your legs. You tried not to be annoyed but it was hard. He had been more open in his feelings for you since his rut but kept his body off limits.

After days of his tongue, fingers and cock making you cum until drool dripped from the corners of your mouth, he cruelly shut off the tap. It was frustrating, but you tried to make due with the sweet words and heated makeouts. It was better than nothing. You needed Joel in any way he would have you, which made you feel progressively more pathetic each time he rejected you but you ignored the sting in hopes that he would break someday.

Joel interrupted your sulking as he came back into the room. He cautiously stepped forwards and smiled nervously. You swallowed a laugh at the alpha’s boyish demeanor as he stopped in front of you. Joel sighed and thrusted the gift out from behind his back.

“It’s not much darling but I - Well, I don’t know. I just think that if we had met before the outbreak I would’ve gotten you flowers. But I mean, I can’t just go to the store anymore so I don’t know, I made this,” he explained shyly.

In his hand was a wooden carving. It was not unlike the carvings that adorned the living room, except this one was delicate. It was a rose made of a light colored wood with petals carved to perfection. They bloomed outward from a skinny stem that was adorned with two small leaves. You gasped and took it from him, twirling the gift in your hand before you spied small lettering under one of the leaves. In careful lines, he had carved a small I love you.

Joel cleared his throat and you looked up. His jaw was set with his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he analyzed your reaction. You opened your mouth to praise his gift when he suddenly reached out and tried to snatch it back.

“Joel!,” you admonished, slapping his hands away.

“S’nothing darling. I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea. You don’t need to guard my feelings, it’s a dumb gift. Barely even a gift really,” Joel rushed out as his cheeks reddened with embarrassment.

After placing the gift down on the bed, you crawled over to the edge and rose to place your hands on his cheeks. His dark eyes snapped to yours, breath catching in his throat as you pressed a soft peck to his lips.

“I love it Joel. I haven’t been given a lot of gifts but that one is definitely my favorite. Thank you. And, um hello? You can’t just give me a gift and then take it back. That’s like against the rules or something. I love it. I love YOU,” you chided.

A small smile bloomed on Joel’s face and he looked away, scuffing his feet against the floor for a moment before he looked back up at you. The redness in his cheeks grew as his teeth worried his bottom lip, guarding the goofy grin that threatened to break out on his face at your praise.

“Well alright then baby, m’glad you like it,” Joel murmured, leaning forward to brush his mouth against yours.

Jumping at the chance, you dove into him again. You pressed the front of your body against Joel’s as your lips met. He groaned and placed his rough hands on your hips, yanking you into him as his tongue mingled with yours. Heart pounding in your ears, your shaky hands tugged at Joel’s soft curls and drifted down his abdomen. Just as you reached his belly button he stopped and pulled back. A pinched groan rattled your chest as he placed his forehead against yours again.

“Dunno if it was worthy of THAT big of a thanks baby,” he chuckled.

You giggled and nipped at the scruff on his jaw as you whispered, “Maybe not, but what if I want you to fuck me anyways?”

Joel groaned as you worried the skin on his neck between your teeth, the action making his hips twitch forward on impulse. You felt his resolve slipping and you pulled back, eyes full of longing as you waited for him to do something. Anything.

“Darling I -,” Joel halted and sucked his teeth.

He stared at your lips for a moment, seemingly at war with himself while you squirmed before him. The impatient whine that rang out seemed to sober him and Joel sighed.

“I should get to making us some breakfast. Can’t have you starving on me when we’ve got chores to be getting to.”

Joel raised your hands to his lips and kissed the backs of them. He ignored your groan, leaving you high and dry on the bed for a second time that morning as he practically jogged out of the room. You sat there slack jawed and frustrated, staring at his hulking frame as he scampered down the hallway.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you scoffed.

A booming laugh echoed from the end of the hall and you cussed. You hadn’t meant for your distress to be that loud but your desperation for Joel had loosened your lips. Sighing, you slipped from the warm sheets.

Save for the undergarments and pants, the clothes that Joel had originally intended to be yours were all but abandoned. Instead, you found yourself in one of Joel’s sweaters or shirts constantly. You loved it and he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, his eyes had lit up the first time you came out in his clothes and continued to since. Plus, the act of wearing his things was like a cheap replacement to the mark you hoped he would one day claim you with.

A chill ran down your spine from the frigid air and you threw one of his flannels over a pair of jeans, tucking the excess fabric into the waistline to keep it from swallowing you whole. You weren’t tiny by any means, but Joel’s broadness meant that his shirts were practically dresses on you. After you shoved your feet into some knit socks, you combed through the knots in your hair. Looking into the mirror, you sighed at your appearance and cursed the outbreak for leaving you without beauty products. Prodding at your hair only seemed to anger the unruly strands so you gave up and turned away from the bedroom.

As you padded into the kitchen, the savory smell of Joel’s cooking wafted in the air. He stood at the stove, humming an unfamiliar tune as he stirred the leftover stew in the pot. He turned and smiled, nodding towards the mug of steaming tea that he left on the counter for you. Shrugging off your thanks, he turned back to the stove.

You eyed the muscles in his strong back flex as he stirred for a moment before you crept up behind him. He chuckled as your arms wrapped his midsection, burrowing your face into his shirt to huff at the deep aroma of sandalwood and bergamot. It tickled your nostrils as you breathed in deeply, making you hum as you swayed against him. Joel squeezed your hand and swayed with you for a moment.

“How ‘bout you get the table set and I’ll finish up?,” Joel asked.

You sighed, giving him one last tight squeeze before you let go and moved towards the cutlery. The front end of the cabin was bursting with light as you strolled towards the table. The morning light shone down on the scuffed wood as you placed the cutlery. Your mind wandered as you worked.

It was the same scuffed wood that had rubbed against your front as Joel had fucked you stupid two weeks prior. The thought of it made you smirk as you remembered his animalistic thrusts. The both of you had been so desperate for each other and now the lust in Joel was just gone. You tried not to dwell on the loss, instead focusing on the thought of him slapping your pussy and forcing you into a mind breaking orgasm as you tried not to cry.

Joel interrupted your thoughts as he emerged from the kitchen with two steaming bowls of food. Picking up on your heated expression immediately, Joel’s eyes darted between the table and you before he chuckled. He shook his head at you, giving you a playfully stern look as he placed breakfast down on the table. You gave him a nervous smile as he pulled out your chair and leaned down to kiss the top of your head. The small act of pulling out your chair was something that he had taken to doing every day, but it never failed to make you blush.

The meal was shared in comfortable silence. His foot knocked against yours and you knocked him back. After one too many nudges, Joel reached down and grabbed your ankle, playfully yanking you forward off your seat.You yelped and dropped the spoon that was halfway to your mouth as you grabbed the edge of the chair to keep your ass on the seat. Joel looked very pleased at the shock on your face as he returned to his food.

“Alright, now eat. We’ve got some chores to finish before the day gets too gone,” he chuckled, placing your foot back on the ground before he moved to shovel stew into his mouth.

You poked him with your foot one last time and giggled at his pointed look before you returned to your breakfast.

- Joel -

Joel watched as the wind ruffled your hair, the sunlight accentuating the high points of your cheekbones as you stooped down towards the river. He tried not to stare but he couldn’t help it.

He was enamored with how you moved and how carefully you treated everything you touched.

Even him, the man that had burned Salt Lake City to the ground with his bare hands. The man that poisoned everything he touched. You even treated him with the utmost care. It made him feel warm and wanted, as well as slightly guilty. Joel didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve you. He knew that, but his feelings for you made it all so much more complicated.

You moved to fill the bucket with water. He watched the muscles in your arms flexing as you drew it back to the surface and up over the bank. There was a part of Joel that wanted to go over and chivalrously offer his assistance but he knew you would just shoo him away. It wasn’t that he didn’t think you could lift it, he was well aware of how strong you were. It was just that he liked having someone to fuss over. It gave him purpose.

Joel sighed wistfully as he watched you stand and wipe at the sweat that covered your brow. As he watched you bend over to pick up the bucket, the breath stalled in his lungs. The jeans that you chose today did little to hide the curves that had filled out since your arrival and he cussed as he felt himself harden.

For two weeks, Joel kept away from you. The memories of your curves, your pretty moans, and your tight cunt all haunted him. Joel wanted nothing more than to stomp over and tear the bucket from your hands. He wanted to tear your pants down and pound into your wet heat right there amongst the snow until you screamed, but he refrained.

Why? That was a question Joel asked himself more and more with each passing day. He had already had you more times than he could count, with each time better than the last, but it wasn’t enough to convince him. He couldn’t do it because he needed to make things right.

Before the outbreak happened, he hadn’t dated much. When Sarah was small, she was an easy excuse. Nobody ever expected the unmated alpha to give up time with his precious pup. However, the older Sarah got, the harder it became to attribute his unwillingness to try on his increasingly independent preteen.

Joel had really tried a couple of times but it never seemed to work out. He even let Sarah and Tommy convince him to sign up for one of those god awful dating sites once but that was also a failure. Joel chalked it up to lack of chemistry or his gruffness each time, but the truth was that he simply didn’t want to sit in a dimly lit restaurant and make small talk with someone who would blanch after he told them about Sarah. He couldn’t stand anyone blanching at the thought of meeting his favorite person, it made him feel sick to his stomach.

Two years before the outbreak, after a date told him that he needed to be realistic about his prospects as an unmated alpha who already had a pup, Joel had simply stopped trying and resigned himself to commitment-free hookups. He preferred it that way anyways. He had his little girl and his idiot brother, what more could he ask for? Once the world had ended, dating and love in general vanished in his mind. It was all about survival. Any dreams of romantic interest or mating was set aside for quick fucks to keep himself from slamming his head through a wall. Nevertheless, after meeting you, Joel remembered how he used to dream about it before Sarah died.

He remembered imagining what it would be like to meet his true mate. His mind would drift off on worksites, thinking about how he might treat them while he waited out a burst of rain in his truck. Joel imagined giving his future mate flowers, opening doors and pulling out seats, giving them soft kisses at the end of a nice date.

He wanted to be the guy that did things just to make his mate smile, all while keeping his touches fleeting until the moment was perfect. That was how he was raised. That was how a gentleman would approach someone they wanted to mate. That was who you deserved. Joel wanted so badly to be that alpha for you, despite the fact that his rut had foiled part of the plan and he now spent most of his time around you hiding his raging boner. He was so close to breaking, and he knew that you were very aware of it. It drove him nuts.

When you had crawled to the end of the bed and wrapped yourself around him, dressed in nothing but his shirt and a cute pair of blue panties, he had nearly lost it. Joel had tried not to think about the slick that undoubtedly pooled in the fabric. He tried not to think about loosening you up with his tongue before driving his cock deep inside of your tight cunt. Practically keeling over with the effort, Joel had barely managed to peel himself away from you so he could scamper off to the kitchen under the guise of making breakfast.

As Joel stood before an unchecked trap in the afternoon sun, he tried to inconspicuously re-adjust himself before you had the chance to look up at him. When he agreed to let you help him with chores he didn’t think about the fact that he would have to listen to your grunts of exertion and see the sweat glistening deliciously on your body as you worked. Day in, day out, it was the sweetest form of torture. A form of torture that made him lock himself in the bathroom at the end of each day to pitifully tug at his cock in the shower, muffling his groans into his fist as he came shamefully to the thought of you.

As you approached him, Joel quickly flipped himself into the waistline of his pants and smoothed his coat over his front to hide any evidence of his arousal. The last thing he needed was to see your knowing smirk at his hard dick. It would only give you more ammo to pierce through his already weakened armor. For years Joel had gone without so much as a twitch from his cock, and now the damn thing never knew when to rest. He was powerless when it came to you.

“I’m gonna head back and shower if that’s it. Do you need any help with the trap? You’ve been standing over it for a hot minute,” you asked sweetly.

Joel’s cock throbbed painfully against the confines of his jeans at the sweet words and the way you looked up at him. The whine that clawed its way up his throat was covered in a strangled cough as he knelt down to mess with the trap. Joel felt your gaze on the back of his head but he elected to ignore it. He knew that if he looked up he would be burying his face in between your pillowy thighs in an instant.

“Yeah uh, that’s fine. M’ just gonna be another minute out here and then I’ll be in,” Joel mumbled as he prodded at the empty trap.

Joel waited for you to leave but your feet stayed rooted to the ground in front of him. With no other choice, he stood and slowly met your gaze. A line formed between the brows of your pinched face. He watched as you wrestled with your thoughts and tried not to puke from nervousness.

“You could… um… You could always join me. In the shower, I mean. If you wanted to,” you proposed.

The hopeful look on your face was too much. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Fuck yes, is what he wanted to say. But instead, Joel stood there dumbfounded as your cheeks grew redder with each second that passed. His stomach twisted as your hopeful expression fell and still, Joel said nothing. His mind screamed at him but he felt like he was locked in himself, unable to move, unable to talk, unable to think. Instead, he watched your crumpled face turn back towards home.

Joel watched you leave in silence, unsure of what to do until a breeze laced with your soured scent slapped him in the face. With his instincts screaming at him to keep you safe and cared for, he surged forward. He dropped his tools and clumsily ran after you. The muffled cries that Joel heard made him wince. He shakily reached out to touch your back, but dropped his hand when you wheeled around to face him.

Your face was red and splotchy, with tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you frowned at him. Joel froze again. An overwhelming feeling of guilt dizzied him. He tried to think of something to say as he stood before you but words failed him.

“Are you ever going to touch me again? Or am I that horrible?,” you snapped.

He stumbled back as if you had slapped him. His mind reeled at the questions.

You sniffed, shaking your head again as you continued, “I know that I’m not what you might have wanted for yourself, I know that I’m… me. But you can’t just promise to mate me one day and then be done with me the next. Was it just the rut talking? Are you disgusted with me now? Because if so tell me or else it’s… It’s mean Joel! You’re being mean to me.”

The words hit slammed into Joel’s chest like a ton of bricks. Pain nipped at his heart and he roughly yanked your face towards his. He searched your eyes as he tried to comprehend how you could possibly think he felt that way.

“Baby, I love you because you’re you. You’re everything I could have hoped for. I just haven’t hoped for anything in a long time sweetheart, so I ain’t great at it. But all I do, day in and day out, is think about you and how good you look in my bed,” he urged, thumb coming down to trace over your lip as it trembled.

“Then, why -,” you started to ask, only to be cut off by Joel’s rushed words.

“Because! I - shit honey. I wanted to do this right, I wanted to treat you like a lady - my lady. I know we already… fucked, as you worded it but you deserve a gentleman. Someone to treat you with respect, someone to court you and all that before claimin ya,” he said, the words strained and clumsy.

You stared at him silently as Joel’s eyes searched yours for any sign of understanding. Just as he opened his mouth to keep going, he was cut off by laughter. His brow furrowed in confusion as you chuckled in front of him.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me Joel,” you wheezed in between shaky breaths.

Joel gawked at your reaction.

“What is this? Is it 1847? Are you gonna ask my father for my hand? Gonna make him pay a dowry to you? Gonna mount me in front of the whole wedding party to make sure the bond is consummated?,” you teased.

Joel scoffed and placed his hands on his hips. Cocking his hip out, his lips came together in a tight line to keep his annoyance at bay. He knew you couldn’t possibly understand what it was like before so he kept his snarky words to himself. When Joel looked up, the previous laughter turned into a sweet grin and he melted. Your arms wrapped around his neck, effectively shutting off his brain as his senses were overwhelmed by you.

“Joel, I get what you’re trying to do but there’s no need. You’re good to me everyday. I’ve never had anyone love me like you do. But I just… I miss you and you’re right in front of me. Don’t you miss me daddy?,” you asked, the last part coy as your eyes twinkled with mischief.

He choked on his spit and coughed as your fingers tugged at the curls on the back of his neck. Joel closed his eyes and groaned with every ounce of restraint leaving his body. He felt as one of your hands moved from his hair and dragged down the softness of his abdomen. The hand grasped his belt buckle, pulling his hips flush with your own. Joel’s eyes snapped open and he growled as your fingers inched along his waistline.

“Fuck it,” Joel sighed as he threw you over his shoulder.

- You -

You squealed as Joel’s rough hand swatted your ass. His strides were long and determined as he moved through the trees. He ignored the way you giggled and begged him to put you down. The daddy card was a cheap card to play but you knew it would work.

“Just HAD to say that,” he griped, “Tryna do something nice for ya darling, tryna treat you right. But all you want is for me to treat you like my little slut, is that it? Need my cock in you that fucking bad huh?”

His dirty words made you squirm and moan. The squirms earned you another quick slap to your ass as Joel reached the stairs to the cabin and took them two at a time. The door was practically ripped off of its hinges on the way in from the force of his pull. You gasped at his strength, half turned on by the spectacle and half pissed that he would risk tearing the door off the cabin in the middle of winter.

“Joel!,” you meekly scolded through a thick cloud of arousal.

He didn’t answer you. Instead, Joel simply smacked your ass once more before he slammed it closed. His determined strides reached the bedroom in seconds and he tossed you on to the bed. You bounced against the mattress from the force of his throw and scrambled to position yourself in a more alluring way. Anticipation boiled in your gut, and you watched as his eyes zeroed in on the wet spot on your panties.

“Strip and lay down on the bed,” his gruff voice demanded.

You paused for a moment. His quick shift from caring mate to domineering alpha both excited and dizzied you. All Joel had to do was give you a pointed look and you sprung into action, clumsily tearing off of your clothes under his stare. He smirked, slowly taking off his leather belt and unbuttoning his flannel as he watched your desperate movements.

After kicking the panties off, you laid back against the cool sheets and tried not to lose your mind. Joel shrugged off his flannel, letting it fall to the floor before he unzipped his jeans. Your mouth watered at the sizeable bulge in his boxers that peaked out from his pants as he stalked around the bed. Joel reached down and softly moved errant strands of hair from your face. The smile that he gave you as you nuzzled his hand made your chest ache.

“Sweet girl,” he praised quietly.

Joel leaned down and kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger before he grabbed both of your hands. You whined as you realized the purpose of the belt. Need rushed through you, slick starting to stick to your inner thighs as Joel expertly wrapped the leather around your wrists. He stopped, kissing both of them softly before he secured them to the headboard. He quickly checked the hold, making sure they weren’t too tight before he loomed over you.

“If they are too tight or if you want to stop, just let me know m’kay? Want to make you feel so good honey,” Joel drawled as he left a soft peck on the tip of your nose.

Blushing at him, you nodded enthusiastically at his words. He smiled and moved to stand at the end of the bed as you squirmed. Joel reached down and pulled your legs apart, his ravenous gaze trained on the slick that dripped onto the sheets. Your face burned at his unflinching gaze. Suddenly overwhelmed by the attention, you tried to snap your legs closed but Joel stopped you.

“Don’t you dare hide from me sweetheart. You’re fucking perfect,” he chastised as he eased your legs back apart.

A strained moan came from Joel at the sight of you laid bare. One of his hands moved to palm his cock through his boxers. Joel pulled himself from the confines of his jeans and your cunt clenched around nothing. The sight of his cock made you yank at the restraints again as he slowly dragged his hand up and down his length.

“What baby? See something you like?”

You nodded, giving Joel the best puppy dog eyes that you possibly could as he tugged at his length. He indulged the sight of your desperate state before he let his cock go, reaching forward to coast his hands over your thighs as they shook. Your hips rose slightly from the bed and he forced you back sharply.

“Use your words,” Joel snapped.

The harshness of his words broke you.

“You! Please, I can’t go any longer. I need it, need you too fuck me so bad” you cried.

Joel dove in between your legs, kissing and biting his way up your right leg as you groaned. His teeth reddened the delicate skin on the inside of your thigh. The marks he left would undoubtedly turn to bruises later and you loved it. He stopped just before the crease in your thigh, allowing his breath fan out over your glistening lips as your clit twitched. Your breath caught in your throat and you silently willed him to lean forward. Joel licked his lips, staring at your seam hungrily for another moment before he turned to kiss up your other leg.

“Ugh, please! Just fucking touch me, I can’t - shit, please Joel,” you whined, kicking your feet as Joel chuckled darkly against your skin.

“I am touchin ya darling. Dunno whatcha mean,” he drawled, lips brushing against your skin with every syllable.

Before you had a chance to answer with a clear mind, Joel returned to sucking and biting marks into the soft skin. The headboard banged against the wall as you thrashed against the restraints. You panted as Joel moved up your leg, trying desperately to find the words to beg for what you needed as he neared your clenching heat.

“F-fuck me! Please fuck me! I need your cock in me - shit, daddy please!,” you suddenly wailed.

Tears of desperation slid down your face as you cried and Joel quickly crawled up your body, kissing every inch of skin he came across before he met your lips in a soft peck. He pulled back and met your gaze, cooing as he brushed away tears of frustration.

“Such a good girl for telling me what you need. So, so good for me. You look so beautiful like this babygirl,” he murmured.

Cradling your face, Joel leaned down and kissed you softly. His tongue teased the inside of mouth and you sighed, letting him in as your body relaxed against the bed. You nibbled on the inside of his lip and he groaned.

The kiss grew in intensity with both of you desperate for each other in seconds. Joel’s chest hair brushed up against your nipples and tiny jolts of pleasure ran down to your core. When he finally pulled away for air, you glared at him in annoyance. He laughed and kissed you once more on the cheek before he leaned into your ear.

“Still doing ok sweetheart?,” Joel whispered.

“Mmmhmmm, now can you fuck me already? M’getting bored up here,” you sang.

Joel chuckled and bit at the gland in your neck with more pressure than he had ever done before. It was still not enough to claim you, but it had your back bowing and eyes rolling anyways at the intensity. He took your incapacity as an opening and moved down to your core. As you tried to come down from the hormonal response Joel had torn from you, he threw your legs over his strong shoulders and positioned himself between your legs.

You looked down just in time to watch as Joel licked a long stripe up your seam, ending his stroke with a flick against the throbbing bud. He closed his eyes at the taste and a devilish smile graced his weathered features. In an instant, his mouth was back on you with soft kitten licks to your sensitive clit. As the need grew his soft licks turned to strong calculated strokes and you squeezed your eyes closed from the pleasure.

The moans that came from Joel were downright pornographic and you fought against the heaviness in your eyelids. Forcing your eyes open, you looked down at the beast of a man that was making the most wanton noises you had ever heard. The sight of him alone almost made you cum on the spot.

Joel ground his hips against the bed, rubbing his crotch into the sheets as he devoured you. With his brow pinched and eyes closed, he sucked your clit into his mouth as he held your twitching hips still so he could push you closer and closer to the edge.

“J- oh fuck! You look so good like that - ungh - M’gonna, you’re gonna make me -,” you squeaked as you barreled towards your end.

Just as your walls began to clench, signaling your incoming orgasm, Joel pulled back and returned his lips to your thigh. You gasped and bucked your hips into nothing as the pressure faded away. With a fresh wave of frustration at the ruined release, you thrashed harder against the restraint and whimpered.

“But I-I don't understand. I was gonna -”

Joel bit down hard on the supple skin of your thigh and a sharp cry bounced off of the walls. He laughed and you debated the benefits of cussing him out. Maybe that would get him riled up enough to fuck you. Before you could complain, Joel broke through the anger with the two thick fingers that thrusted into your core. You yelped at the sudden fullness. Slick dripped down Joel’s wrist and he grinned as he moved his face towards your center once more.

With Joel sucking on your clit at a steady pace, your orgasm rose from the depths of your core embarrassingly fast. He hadn’t even started to move his thick fingers yet before your thighs started to shake again. As your walls twitched, a burst of panic rushed through you at the thought of him pulling away. Quickly, you clamped your thighs around him and pleaded. Joel chuckled against your seam, the vibrations of it almost sending you off the edge before he effortlessly moved away.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” you shouted as yet another orgasm was ruined by Joel.

“Just Joel is fine darling,” he joked.

Joel chuckled and sucked the slick off his fingers. His fingers retracted from his mouth and he reached forward to pop your jaw open. Joel pursed his lips, letting a wad of spit fall from his mouth onto your tongue as you whimpered. The lewdness of it made your eyes roll back and you swallowed without even thinking.

“Jesus baby, don’t even have to tell you what to do. Like you were made for me or something. All fucking mine, aren’t ya?,” he growled.

You nodded and breathily whined, “Yes, m’yours. Want to be yours so bad, please! Please make me yours, I need it so bad. Fuuck.”

Joel moaned and moved to devour you once more. His fingers prodded at the outside of your twitching hole and you lifted your hips to encourage him. You felt him pause and looked down at him, only to be met with a serious look on his face.

“You're already mine baby and I’m yours. Don’t you ever forget that,” Joel grunted as he slammed his fingers inside.

Something between a growl and a sob rolled off of your tongue as his fingers ruthlessly thrusted into you. He sucked your swollen bundle of nerves between his lips and batted it with his tongue, the overstimulation making you shiver as he moaned into your folds. Joel’s fingers crooked up inside of you and rubbed at the devastating spot along your front wall. You convulsed against the sheets, whining and pleading as his free hand held you to the mattress.

Joel looked devastatingly handsome between your legs. The possessive stare, coupled with the way he thrusted his hips against the sheets in time with his fingers made you feel like a goddess. His movements grew slightly jerky and you knew that he was close. The thought of Joel cumming from humping the bed at the taste of your cunt was all too much and you came hard. You screamed and pulled at the leather wrapped around your wrists so hard that it creaked under the pressure.

Overwhelming pleasure erupted from your core and sprayed him with a strong gush of slick. Joel whined as your release covered his face and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Nonsensical pleas and jumbled cries fell from your lips as you clenched around his thick fingers. You watched through hooded eyes as Joel’s hips stuttered against the bed before he thrusted down hard, crying out into your pulsing folds as he came into the sheets.

The strength of your orgasm made your pelvic muscles burn as he pulled away. Joel kissed his way back up your body as you floated. He smiled and continued his attack on your face, distracting you as Joel’s free hand untied you from the headboard. With your hands free from the leather, you quickly dug your fingers into his curls and pulled him closer.

The kiss you gave him was full of love, passion, longing, and desperation. It held a million emotions, a million promises, and a million requests. The kiss begged him to never go so long without touching you ever again. Joel responded fervently to your anguish and his lips promised that he would never leave you wanting again.

Joel broke from the kiss and the two of you panted into each other's mouths. You looked up at him and brushed the hair off of his forehead. He needed a haircut badly but you had begged him not to cut it yet, loving the way the length showcased his beautiful salt and pepper curls. You knew you had to do it soon as Joel threatened to shave it all off every day, but you wanted to enjoy the length as long as possible.

He kissed the indent on your wrist and continued all the way down the length of your arm. Joel reached the crook of your neck and leaned forward. You waited for the final kiss but it never did. Instead, he blew a wet raspberry against your skin. You screeched and squirmed, shoving his head away he laughed. Joel removed himself from your neck and watched you giggle.

“That was - shit Joel, that was so good. I missed that,” you sighed once the two of you calmed, which earned a hum of approval from him.

Joel rolled the two of you over, moving so he was underneath while you straddled him. He moved his fingers into your hair and rubbed at your scalp. Boneless from his soothing circles, you draped yourself over him and placed your ear against his chest. His strong heartbeat lulled you into a meditative state. Grabbing his free one in yours, you squeezed his hand three times.

“I love you too darling, more than you could possibly imagine,” he answered as he nosed at your hair.

Completely drunk off of him, you smiled and rubbed your face into his chest. He hummed as you scented him. Your nose moved up from his chest to huff at the spot beneath his ear and Joel shivered. The spot called to you, his deep scent coating the back of your throat as you licked and nipped at it. It smelled so good but you couldn’t help but wonder how much better it would be if his scent was mixed with yours.

The vibe of the room changed as you laved your tongue and dragged your teeth over the same spot with more intent. Joel’s hand tightened in your hair but it didn’t move to stop you. Instead he made a desperate noise and pushed your face deeper into his flushed skin. You took that as a green light and sunk your teeth into his skin. Joel howled as you made your claim on him. His body shook and his softening cock kicked up against your leg as blood filled your mouth. The taste of him alone made you groan as you licked over the wound, sealing the bleeding puncture marks and your hold over him as he twitched beneath you.

“F-fuck baby,” Joel panted as blinked away tears.

Before you could respond, Joel had flipped you over and shoved his face into your neck. He snuffed at the skin as he tried to locate the right spot. He found it almost immediately, almost like he had scoped it out beforehand. You didn’t blame him if he had, you had known the exact spot on Joel that you wanted to bite down on for weeks.

“P-please omega, tell me please,” Joel begged as his mouth hovered over the left side of your neck.

You could have cried at the sound of his voice. Your alpha, so strong yet so caring. A whine fell from your lips and you pushed his face forward.

“Make me yours Joel.”

Snarling, Joel clamped his teeth down hard. Euphoria burst from somewhere deep inside of you and you sobbed. The all encompassing feeling of finally belonging made tears fall from your eyes. You could hear Joel, as if from far away, as he coaxed you through the intense emotions. Love, devotion, and an overwhelming desire to never be away from him rushed through you. It was not unlike what you had already felt for him. Only this time, you knew for a fact that Joel felt the same way. You felt it through the bond.

After the waves receded, your eyelids fluttered open and it felt like you were coming up for air after being underwater for your entire life. Joel’s smile matched yours and the both of you erupted into a fit of giddy laughs.

Pure joy radiated off of you as you sniffed the air. Your scents changed with bond, mingling together to advertise to any interested parties that the both of you were taken. It made you excited, even though you knew there was nobody around to smell it. Joel noticed a change as well and lifted his nose into the air, his grin splitting his face in half as he smelled it too.

“Joel, I don’t even know what to say,” you croaked through the emotions that tightened your throat.

He rubbed his nose against yours and whispered, “I know honey, I don’t either. I love you, that’s all I can think of to say. I fucking love you.”

You sobbed and threw your arms around Joel’s neck, murmuring a soft I love you too into his mouth before you captured his lips in a searing kiss. Tears of happiness fell from your eyes as your lips moved against each other, tongues mingling and hands caressing every inch as the pair of you reeled from the enormity of what just happened. Your heart felt like it was going to explode with your love for Joel, the intensity of it almost too much as your mouths greedily took from one another. He broke away for air and you panted against the sheets, overwhelmed by the newness of it all.

“I know baby, it’s too much isn’t it? But it’s just us finding the missing piece. Me and you, that’s what the feeling is. Until my last breath, I’m yours. Hell, I would’ve been yours anyways but this is so much better,” Joel murmured.

An overwhelming need overcame you at his words and you flipped Joel over again. He landed on his back with a surprised oomph. He blinked and you had already straddled him. Joel wheezed as your hips grinded down on his quickly hardening length. He pinched his eyes closed and dropped his head back against the pillow while his hands skimmed along the fat of your hips.

Moving from your hips, Joel reached down to grasp handfuls of your ass and used his grip to slide you back and forth against him harder. Whining, you draped yourself over him again and writhed against him.

You grew desperate for him and reached down to grab him. Holding him steady, you slowly sunk down on him. A sigh fell from your lips once you were fully seated, with every aspect of the both of you now melded together. It all felt so right.

Joel’s hips twitched under you and he grabbed your hips once more. He worked you on his cock, the fat tip of it brushing up against that spot that had slick gathering in his lap. You whined at the size of him, the stretch bordering on painful as he bullied his way in. His place was slow and hard, making the burn quickly give way to burning need as Joel somehow brushed against every sweet spot inside of you.

You needed more.

The air in the room was thick and your bodies were sticky with sweat as you pushed back up again. Planting your hands on his belly, Joel watched through glazed eyes as you swirled your hips in mind numbing circular motions. He cussed with his expression pained as he watched your glistening body undulate over him. You leaned forward and kissed him once more, licking into his mouth and sucking on his tongue as the desperation grew.

The way his wiry curls scrubbed against your clit made pleasure shoot up from the base of your spine. Joel noticed as your legs trembled with your incoming release, making your thrusts lose their rhythm. As your legs failed, he pulled his lips from yours and sat himself up against the headboard. The same hard and slow grind as before continued with Joel’s capable hands setting the pace as you whimpered and shook.

“Alpha,” you keened as you felt the incoming pleasure.

Joel’s eyes met yours as he ground your cock into you, teasing your entrance with his knot to make you tremble. Needing him to claim you in every way, you whimpered his name and pushed your hips down.

“Yeah pretty girl? You want my knot omega? It's yours now, all you gotta do is tell me,” he growled with his length tunneling deeper inside of you, carving a space for himself as he thrusted up from underneath.

You panted and cried out, “I want it so bad. You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about this. Everytime I - ha, fuck me - Everday in the shower, I’d use the showerhead so I could, oh shit! Alpha, please.”

He groaned and slapped the fat of your ass before he gritted out, “You touchin yourself to me in the shower baby? Fuck me, you know how many times I fucked my fist in there thinking about you? Nearly every day darling. I can’t believe I wasted it when I could’ve been cumming into this sweet pussy.”

Pussying clenching at his admission, you cried out and clawed at his shoulders. Joel’s thrusts became more erratic and he reached one hand down to your clit. As his calloused thumb strummed at your pulsing bud, the shaking in your thighs doubled as your walls began to milk him. Groaning, Joel brutally slammed you down onto his knot, locking himself inside of you as you both exploded.

Spurts of cum painted your insides as your cunt sucked him dry. Everytime you thought he was done cumming, another wave would splash against your walls as they twitched around him.

“F-fuck, gonna keep filling you up until it takes baby. Need it,” he growled.

You weren’t sure if he even knew what he had said but it didn’t matter. The thought of it threw the both of you into another round of blinding pleasure and you cried out as his seed continuously splashed against your cervix. Shuddering and breathless, you slumped against Joel’s body as the last shocks of pleasure ebbed away. His hands rubbed at every inch of available skin as he soothed the fresh mark on your neck with soft kisses.

“We should have done that two weeks ago,” you sighed as you purred from his attention to your neck.

He snorted before he mumbled, “Pardon me ma’am, didn’t mean to vex ya with my attempts at being decent. Just how I was raised, I suppose.”

You laughed at that and tilted your face to plant a quick peck into his hair.

“Well old man, you made me cum two weeks ago by slapping me in the pussy. So, I really don’t know whose decency you’re talking about. Plus, did you have a good time not touching me? Because I hated it. Pretty sure I’ll die if you take your huge dick away from me again,” you said.

Joel scoffed and shook his head at your words.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as ridiculous as you baby. You’d give Tommy a run for his money,” he chuckled.

You rolled your eyes before you said, “You’ve never met someone like me, period Joel. That’s why it’s my mark on your neck and nobody else’s. Plus, um… me crass? Who was the one that was doing the pussy slapping? Who literally just tied me up? Pot and kettle Joelie.”

“Uck, not Joelie, anything but that. Two people have called me that, my meemaw and my dumb brother when he was trying to piss me off. Don’t you even start with that,” Joel grumbled.

You hummed and brushed your thumbs along his cheeks.

“But doesn’t it sound so much better coming from me Joooellie - ah!”

He pushed you deeper on to his knot, eliciting a guttural cry from you as a weak orgasm pulsed from your core. The force of it made Joel hiss but it worked, effectively shutting you up and zapping the remaining energy from your body you melted him to him. After a brief silence, Joel spoke again.

“The mark on my neck, it couldn’t be anybody else’s. It could only ever be you,” Joel said truthfully.

Overcome with love and exhaustion, you kissed his neck and whispered, “Back atcha cowboy.”

He chuckled and you nuzzled at his fresh mark. A peaceful silence fell over the room as you wrapped yourselves around each other. Joel’s hands rubbed soft circles into your skin, drawing sighs from your lips until you drifted off into a dreamless sleep for the first time in weeks.

- Joel -

One day.

One day since he had purpose again. All of the voices in Joel’s head that screamed at him every waking moment were silenced when you had claimed him. With sharp teeth burrowed into his neck, all he could only think about was you. After a lifetime of running from his past and himself, it felt like he was finally home. Joel ran his thick fingers over the mark, smiling at the memory.

With the bond solidified, exhaustion had pulled you into an impromptu nap against him. Joel watched you sleep, tracing the outline of your face over and over again with his gaze but couldn’t bring himself to join you in rest. The thrill of being somebody’s mate had slowly morphed into shock. The surrealness of it all dizzied him.

Joel survived being a single dad, he survived the outbreak and his daughter dying in his arms, he even survived the death of his adoptive daughter. And he had done it all on his own. For 56 years the thought of drawing someone else into his shit was unthinkable but now he had you, and you would be with him until the day he died. The thought both excited and terrified him.

He didn’t know how he was going to do this. How would he take care of you? How could Joel look you in the eyes and tell you the truth about him? Would you leave him if you knew? Surely not, the bite mark dug into your neck assured him of that. But would you resent him for claiming you after the truth came out? The thought of your resentment made his stomach roil.

His racing thoughts were interrupted as you woke from the impromptu nap. The smile you gave him cracked the shell around his broken soul and allowed warmth to shine through the cracks. Butterflies erupted in Joel’s stomach and made his heart thump harder against the walls of his chest. Without a second thought, he leaned forward and kissed both of your cheeks. You yawned, mumbling something about food as you roused from slumber. Joel leaned forward and brushed his lips against yours, indulging your sleepy kisses for a moment before he jumped into action.

As Joel rose from bed, a strained groan forced its way out from behind his clenched teeth. A deep ache bloomed in his back and hips, making him lock his knees to keep himself from falling forward. He knew when he did it that he probably shouldn’t have picked you up at his age. You were a fully grown woman and he was an old man with a lifetime’s worth of sore muscles and creaky bones but he couldn’t help it. The pain that pricked at his nerves was worth it to see how your face scrunched up everytime he slammed you down onto his cock.

He tried to play it off after the groan crawled its way out of his mouth but you were his mate. That meant that you felt his pain like your own and after a round of pointless bickering, he somehow ended up taking a bath for the first time in nearly fifty years. Hesitancy clung to Joel at first but the sight of your naked body slipping in after him made any trepidation slip away in an instant. The water was warmer than he was used to but the heat pulled all of the tension from his muscles and made him groan into your hair.

Joel tried to be romantic and wash your hair but he almost immediately got his thick fingers stuck in the tangled strands. You laughed it off, gracious with his rusty affections even though he practically waterboarded you later on. He meant to simply wash the soap from your scalp but instead he accidentally poured the hot water directly over your face. He vehemently apologized as you sputtered and tried to explain that he was pretty sure the reason Sarah learned how to do her own hair so quickly was that she was tired of her dad getting styling cream in her eyes.

Afterwards, you washed him and Joel tried to keep note of your technique in his own hair for future reference. He suppressed a moan as he felt fingers rubbing the product into his scalp with soothing circles. The ministrations released the tension from his muscles and made him blink sleepily at you. You smiled and pecked Joel’s lips before tilting his head back, carefully rinsing his curls as he sighed.

Once the bath was over, the two of you had spent the rest of the day in each other's presence. He cooked and you watched from your spot on the counter, reaching out every so often to pull him into a sweet kiss. It was a miracle that the food didn’t burn. After lunch you had lured him back to bed for a few more hours, only letting him go when you collapsed from the devastating sixth orgasm he tore from you. Joel tried not to look too smug when he had to bring supper to you in bed that night as your legs shook and twitched.

After a peaceful sleep wrapped in each other’s arms, Joel woke to the sound of you making breakfast for him. He smiled and rubbed his eyes, letting his fingers trail across his newly marked neck before he leapt from the bed. There was a pep in his step as he dressed and he suppressed a smile at the giddiness growing in his chest. The simple thought of you making food in the kitchen made his cheeks hurt. It was madness.

He paused as he left the bedroom. His eyes fell to the rose on your side of the bed. Your side of the bed. Joel’s grin widened at the thought of it, of you having a space in his life forever now. The thought would have made him run for the hills a couple of weeks ago but now, his greatest fear was losing you.

Looking around, he saw traces of you everywhere. Dog eared books on the bedside table, dirty clothes mixed with his in the hamper, hair ties strewn across every open surface, a drawing of a wonky cat that you had drawn tacked to the wall on his side of the bed, even the rainbow quilt that adorned the bed had you written all over it. Joel never cared about which blankets he used but you insisted on using that one because of the bright colors. He didn’t mind the brightly colored blankets if it made you happy.

As Joel stepped into the hallway it was filled with the smell of something delicious. His mouth watered from the sweetness drifting in the cold air. Stomach grumbling, he walked into the kitchen and was slapped in the face with what he saw. He froze in the doorway. Flour covered nearly every inch of the counter and Joel trembled at the sight. Sweat pricked at his hairline and his heart lurched in his chest.

Suddenly it was 2003, his thirty second birthday, and Sarah wanted to make him pancakes. They were one of her favorite foods but that day he forgot and had left for work without a second thought. What had they eaten instead? Joel couldn’t remember. All he remembered was that the last two things that Sarah wanted in this world were pancakes and birthday cake, and she never got either.

“Joel! Oh my god, please breathe. Look at me, you have to breathe”

The words rattled around in his mind as he fought against the fog. Your panicked face came into his field of vision, face framed with black dots as your shaky hands held his cheeks. Joel’s chest burned and he wondered momentarily if he was having a heart attack before he realized he wasn’t breathing. He gasped, sucking in air as reality bled back into his consciousness.

“That’s it, breathe for me. There you go,” you soothed.

Joel lifted himself to his knees, ignoring your protests and attempts to shove him back down. He needed to get out of this room. The smell of the sweet batter made his mouth fill with water and he retched. You swore and stepped back at the sound of his gags. Joel staggered out of the room and you quietly followed.

Sarah’s laugh echoed in his haunted mind, followed by the sound of her choking on her final breaths. He looked away when she died, crying out for his brother only to be greeted with her still face when he looked back down. Why did he do that? Tommy couldn’t do anything. And Ellie. Was she scared after the tunnel? Did she look for him after she woke up? Did she wish Joel was there before they put her under for the surgery?

Was everyone he loved doomed to die afraid?

Was Joel doomed to watch?

“Joel, please. You’re scaring me. What’s going on? Are you - Is it your heart?”

Your nervous tone cut through his panicked state and Joel whirled around to face you. He felt like some sort of raging beast as adrenaline raced through his veins. He tried to conjure up an explanation but couldn’t, so he just turned away. Joel sighed as he heard your tentative steps towards him. You walked around his body and placed your hands on his aching chest.

“I don’t want to talk about it darling, I got chores to be getting to anyways. Just eat and I’ll see you later on, okay?,” Joel tried.

You blinked and prepared yourself to press him again. He wished you wouldn’t.

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

Joel pushed away from you, stumbling back as anger boiled up from deep within him. He didn’t need your help, he didn’t need anybody’s help. There was no fixing this. It was something that would remain broken until the end of time, like him.

“I don’t need your help. M’not your little project sweetheart,” he seethed.

The moment the words were out of his mouth he regretted them but there would be no taking them back now. Not when your face morphed into a scowl and your arms crossed over your midsection in defense. Joel schooled his face and tried not to wince at the fury that buzzed through the bond you shared.

“I never fucking called you my project. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to wonder why my mate collapsed in the kitchen and then literally ran away from me when I tried to comfort him. But what do I know?” you spat.

Joel stiffened at your tone and matched your anger as he said, “Maybe it’s none of your fucking business. Ever thought of that?”

A dark laugh peeled out of your mouth and he felt the room shift. He knew that he had chartered into dangerous territory but he couldn’t help it. Joel clenched his jaw and he tensed for an attack that was never going to come from you. His body couldn’t tell the difference between discomfort and danger anymore, gearing up to protect him despite the fact that he knew you would never hurt him.

“None of my business Joel? None of my fucking business?! You, Joel Miller, are literally my only fucking business. You’re my mate and I literally know fucking nothing about you. And you know what? That’s my fault, I should have pushed you but I didn’t,” you snarled as you walked back towards the kitchen.

A lump formed in his throat and Joel blinked away tears. He was failing you and he didn’t know how to stop it, but he knew he had to try.

“You don’t want to know me baby. I’m a bad man. I’ve tortured and killed so many people. Hundreds probably, and I don’t even care that some didn’t deserve it. That’s how shitty I am. Murdering folk ain’t even what keeps me up at night,” Joel choked out.

You stopped in the doorway and turned back. Joel watched your socked feet take tentative steps towards him and winced when they stopped inches away from him.

“Tell me.”

How could he? How could he put his loss into words? How could anyone?

“Tell me,” you repeated.

The conviction in your voice snapped Joel to attention and he grabbed your hand. He wasn’t sure why he was doing it but he led you down the hall towards the one place he had banished you from. Pausing for a moment, Joel sighed and pushed the creaky door open.

The room itself was largely the same, with flowers still painted on the walls and comic books still stuffed in the bookshelf, but it was torn to pieces.You stepped forward into the wreckage and gingerly surveyed it. The railings on the bunk bed had been torn off. He didn’t even remember doing that. A lamp was shattered in the corner of the room and the nightstand had been kicked over. Joel swallowed hard as you picked up the broken frame, studying the picture before you looked up at him.

“Sarah wasn’t the only daughter you lost,” you stated.

Joel nodded in response and braced for the big questions. How did Sarah die? How did Ellie die? How did he fail? How would he fail you?

“What was her name?”

He blinked.

“Ellie,” he whispered before he cleared his throat and tried again, “Her name was Ellie. She… I met her when she was fourteen. Pretty well grown but she was… If they hadn't killed her I would’ve taken care of her. She was my kid even though - ”

You cut through his rushed words, “Ellie was your daughter. Maybe not through blood, but she was your pup.”

He nodded again and looked down at his feet. Hot tears blurred his vision and he failed to force them down. Joel’s chest broke open. Ellie was his pup, Sarah was his pup, and they were both gone. The ground shifted beneath him and he lurched forward onto his knees. He didn’t even feel the hard wood, but he felt your arms around him after the fall.

“They died and I couldn’t fucking do anything. The outbreak happened and that goddamn soldier shot Sarah. He shot my baby girl and she died, and I didn’t do anything besides yell for Tommy,” Joel sobbed into your chest.

A soft comforting noise came from you and your fingers rubbed circles into his scalp. He cried hard, choking on memories as they gathered behind his eyelids. You remained silent, allowing him to cry as your hands soothed him.

“Ellie was just cargo. That’s all she was supposed to be and then she wasn’t anymore. The fireflies wanted to use her for some bogus cure but I c-couldn’t - fuck - I tried to get to her but her head was just split open on the fucking table and I-I,” he broke with a pained whine.

Years of shame rolled off Joel and landed on your lap. And you took it without any complaint or accusation. His admission just made you hug him tighter to your chest as he cried. A breakdown of this magnitude would have embarrassed him normally but he didn’t care. Joel needed you like the air he breathed. He needed you and if he had to admit his deepest darkest secrets to keep you, then that was what he would do.

You let him cry until the tears ran dry and his pained cries turned into soft whimpers. The hands in his hair tugged his head back. Joel blushed as you examined his damp face. He knew that he was probably a mess but you still looked at him like he had hung the moon.

“They knew you loved them. That’s what matters Joel. How they died was… It was awful and I can’t even imagine how you feel, but their death isn’t what’s important. Their memory is what matters, the love is what matters,” you said softly.

“But I was supposed to protect them and I failed. I’m a failure. And that’s why I… I just don’t want to fail you darling.”

You scoffed and pinched his sides, forcing a sharp grunt out of his mouth. He balked at your harsh treatment as he rubbed at his reddened skin.

“Joel Miller, you are a lot of things but don’t you dare call yourself a failure. A grump? Sure. Secretive? Undoubtedly. A miser when it comes to your friggin peanuts? One hundred per-”

He cut you off before the list could go on.

“And I thought I was bad at comforting people. Christ darling just pile it on, why don’t ya?” he snickered.

The tension in the room fizzled out as the two of you laughed. The pain that he felt moments before was still there but as Joel looked up at your smiling face, it felt a lot more manageable.

“What I’m trying to say is that you act like you’re some sort of monster but it isn’t true. Everything you do is with love. Joel, love literally exudes from your very being.You’re so many things, but a failure just isn’t one of them,” you explained.

Joel breathed in, allowing the words to settle in his soul as you pushed his hair back from his wrinkled forehead. There was a part of him that wanted to push back. A dark voice lurked in the corners of his brain and begged him to deny your kindness, but he stopped himself. Swallowing hard, he nodded and hugged you tightly. You grunted at the force of it but wrapped your arms around him anyways.

“Sarah wanted pancakes the last day she was alive. It was my birthday and she wanted to make them. They were more for her than anything else, she loved anything sweet. I guess I haven’t really seen anyone make them since her. It just surprised me baby, that’s all,” he mumbled.

“No oatmeal and no pancakes, aye aye captain,” you affirmed and leaned back to give him a mock salute.

A watery laugh bubbled up from Joel’s chest and he kissed you. Tears from his face dampened your cheeks but you didn’t seem to care. Instead, he felt you pour all of your affection into his lips. His heart throbbed and he whined. The kiss was growing in intensity but Joel cut it short when his nose picked up on something.

“Is that?”

“SHIT!,” you yelled before scrambling into the hallway.

Joel ran after you, eyes widening at the smoke that clouded the air. As he rounded the corner, he was met with the sight of you standing still in front of the flames that roared on the stove. He cussed, nervous system spiking his adrenaline once more as he snatched the water from the fridge and tossed it on the flame.

A sharp hiss resounded through the room and steam exploded off of the blackened circles in the pan. He reached around the billowing puffs of heat and quickly turned off the burner.

“You didn’t turn off the burner?” he asked dumbly.

You scoffed, “Well no, I thought you were having a heart attack Joel.”

Annoyance surged within him. Joel’s hands came up to his hips and he popped his left knee out.

“M’not that old,” he grumbled.

You threw your hands in the air at his petty bickering but he knew you loved it.

“Oh, I’m sorry Joel. You are so right. I should totally assume that when my 56 year old mate clutches at his chest and then falls over, that actually means he’s completely fine. My mistake!” you sassed him.

Joel bit back a laugh. If there was one thing that the two of you would do, it was bicker and he loved it too. The tenseness vanished and now you were just fucking with eachother.

“Plus, at least I wasn’t the one who just used all the water in the fridge to put out a itsy bitsy stove fire,” you added.

“Oh, I’m sorry darling. You are so right. I should totally assume that when you start a fire in the kitchen, it’s actually because you wanted to burn our home to the ground. My mistake!,” he retorted, throwing the words right back in your face.

A beat passed before you both erupted into laughter again. The tenseness of the situation deflated even greater as Joel watched you toss the charcoal colored dough into the trash. With the offending pancake gone, he sighed in relief.

After the pancake incident, Joel fired you from breakfast duty and opted for the easier option of ramen noodles. The prep was too minimal for your assistance so he shooed you away to the living room. When they were done, he brought the bowls of noodles to the couch and pulled your legs onto his lap. A smile tugged at his lips while he ate. The heaviness in Joel’s chest was gone and he was sure that he would’ve floated away if it wasn’t for the weight across his lap.

When the bowls were empty, you took the dishes back to the kitchen and commanded Joel to go refill the water from the fridge. He jokingly bowed to your demand, which you rolled your eyes at as you walked away. Joel smirked and reached out to slap your ass hard.

“Joel!” you scolded.

He wiggled his eyebrows at you and you laughed. The sound of your laughter was something that Joel knew he would savor until he died.

“Water cowboy, then we’ll talk.”

Joel flashed you a devilish grin as he quickly shoved his feet into his boots. Grabbing the first jacket he could find, he zipped up and turned to sprint towards his task. As he gripped the door handle, your voice calling out from the kitchen stopped him in his tracks.

“Love you!”

His heart stuttered at that. It didn’t matter how many times you said it, everytime made his mind fuzzy.

“Love you too honey,” Joel called back as he strolled into the frosty morning.

The walk was brisk but the sun shone down through the trees and warmed his cheeks. He barely took notice of whether the traps he passed needed to be reset or not. All of Joel’s thoughts were centered around you back in the cabin. Back home. Being away from you for even a minute tore him in half.

The river roared with swelling waters that licked at the banks as Joel stooped down to fill the bucket. The current was strong this winter, with thick chunks of ice that raced along the surface and slammed into each other. Summer came to mind. A grin came to his face as he thought about how nice it was to cool off in the calmer waters. He was excited to share the perfect swimming hole that existed just a short walk away. Joel shook his head and tried to focus on pulling the bucket up on the bank. He knew he would ditch his task if he thought about swimming alongside you for too long.

His ears pricked at a rustling noise behind him. Joel heard the distinct sound of footsteps coming out from the treeline behind him and smiled. Relief filled him. It was good to know that he wasn’t insane for missing you from the moment he stepped outside.

“Listen, I missed you too darling. But Christ, s’cold out here. You’re gonna freeze,” he teased.

You didn’t answer and Joel turned his head, only to be met with the but of a rifle as it slammed into his face.

#alpha!joel miller #angst #joel miller fanfiction #comfort #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #omega reader #a/b/o dynamics #tlou fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel x reader #joel needs a hug #reader needs a hug

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porcelian · 3 months ago

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TANGLED IN RED | j. todd | 0.8k

SYNOPSIS: you wrap yourself up in jason's red jacket, and he finds it endearing ;

NOTES: i wrote this post-surgery recovery so i get a pass on any mistakes thank you :⁠-⁠P cross posted on my AO3.

♯ MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION.

In the tangled web of a relationship, the couple shows and tells their affections in all kinds of different ways. Sometimes, it's the soft, but sickly sweet way their touch lingers on one's skin. Sometimes, it's the saccharine taste that is left in one's mouth after a shared kiss.

Sometimes, it's as simple as a piece of one's clothing on their partner.

It's something Jason never gave a single thought to. Until you showed up. With your honeyed gaze and sunshine grin. The thought of you in clothes that belonged to him lit a fire on his skin. In every crevice thoughts of you reside. Thoughts of you wrapped in his signature color, red.

Unfortunately, he hasn't had the luck to see you hugged by that ruby-red. Not even a sweater in cold weather, not even a t-shirt on lazy days when both of you stay at home, tangled in one another.

Even now, as the merigold rays of the sun peek through the vanilla curtains, hitting the cloud-like softness of your shared bed, he stares at you getting dressed.

It's the everyday domestic tenderness he takes comfort in. Your brows furrowed, focused as you sifted through different pieces of clothing that lay messy around the room. His own red leather jacket barely covers his frame.

“Maybe something more light,” you murmur, turning on your heel to show him the two blouses hanging from your hands. “What do you think?”

In his mind, you could wear either of them; you'd still look flawless. He could say that, but he knows you need an answer.

“Ditch them both,” he answers as he props himself in the palm of his hand, “that's my expert opinion.”

A mix of shock and embarrassment floods your flushed face. “You'd have me ditch the pants too, wouldn't you?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

“Nevermind,” you click your tongue as you finally choose the rosy-colored blouse, bringing it close to your torso.

Not yet close enough.

He moves closer, wrapping his around you. You melt into his hold, but panic as he leaves pecks at the corner of your lips. You can't help but give him a dopey grin.

“Jason, c’mon,” you giggle, trying to break free from his grasp, “you'll smudge the lipstick!”

He settles you in his arms as his head lays on your shoulder, holding your gaze. It doesn't seem like he plans on letting you go soon.

You shuffle again, hand reaching for the peach-colored lipstick. A glint of light reflecting from the lampshade twinkles in your eyes. A sight he can't seem to tear his gaze away from.

The outfit you chose lays undisturbed on the bed. The light rosy-colored silky fabric contrasts with the milky white of the sheets.

You had picked your outfit for the night after many hours of contemplating, and glares sent his way after another failed try of voicing his opinion about your outfit of choice.

Much to his dismay, you don't plan on going out with him naked on the date you both planned for weeks.

“I’m still sticking with my suggestion,” he shifts to lay on the bed, mindful of the silky fabric of your clothing.

You huff, cheeks flushing a deep red, a look he enjoys and basks in seeing.

A little closer.

*****

Maybe it's the way you cling onto him for warmth, or maybe how your hands dig into his pockets, searching for his hands, but he doesn't even feel a tinge of the rainy and cold Gotham weather. The single touch of your hands on his has him hungry and starving for more.

Instead, he focuses his attention on you, and your frustrated tries to keep warm. The cold air hits his face, but he doesn't feel it, the warmth rushing to his cheeks, protecting him.

Walking down the road, lit with neon signs and a few lampposts, you two finally reach the destination of your long-awaited date.

Moving into the small, but cozy café, both of you take your seats. He leaves his jacket hanging from his seat. The scarlet-colored leather looks out of place at such a place. Jason gives you a quick peck on the cheek, moving to take your orders.

Coming back, he spots that his jacket is gone, not left on the seat but wrapped around your shoulders.

Your shoulders. Your hands grip the jacket closer as you curl into the leather even more, taking in the warmth and feel of him.

Red. On you. His red.

“Oh, sorry,” you chuckle. “It’s still cold, even in here.” You notice his gaze on the fabric hugging your frame. “You don't mind, do you?”

“Oh,” he stammers, “no—not at all.” Taking a seat opposite of you, he listens as you go on about the last few days. He can't help but give all his attention to the red that you bring closer to yourself—his red you tangle yourself in.

#jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason fluff #jason todd needs a hug #dc #batfamily #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #dc x reader

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dxckgrxsonx · 7 months ago

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Soft sleepy affectionate Jason Todd is good for the soul:

Just standing in the kitchen, half asleep in the early morning, sunlight catching the curve of your mouth on a yawn and a warm, thick pair of arms circling your waist from behind, a forehead pressed into your back.

There’s hardly any sound, the tick of a clock in the background, a soft little exhale into the back of your shirt. Fingers warm and sly sneaking up under your pyjamas in search of skin. Palms splayed over your tummy, a content mumble echoing in the space between sleep and awake; caught in a dream.

Leaning forwards into the counters edge to make a cup of something warm and sweet and being tugged back into place with a tired growl, no real choice other than settling into place and letting Jason hold you close, swaying slightly with how drowsy he is. A quiet, whining grumble of your name when you move again.

Hopping up on the kitchen counter and tugging him in close between your parted knees, his head tucking into the warm space where your shoulder meets your neck. Your fingers sweeping through his tangled hair, down his neck, across his shoulders. Feet locked at the ankle around his hips, not willing to let him pull out of reach.

Sliding back into bed with a warm drink and Jason clinging at your side, legs tangling together when he nudges yours apart with a knee. Playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and listening to him drop back off into sleep, a gentle, quiet slur of “I love you” the last coherent thing you get out of his mouth for the next few hours.

Just…Jason being soft and a little needy and feeling safe enough to trust you to lead whilst he slots into that tired space where you’re only half aware of what’s happening outside your partner being close and warm.

#drunk and emotional and thinking of him always #he loves you okay and wants you close #just two hundred pounds of sarcasm and spite seeking you out because he wants a hug #I need him so so bad #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd #ella writes

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sena-seastar · 5 months ago

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Burning Desire

Aemond x Older!sister Reader

Summary: You rush off to confront your brother Aemond after discovering he hurt your sister, only to find him crying. You are angry at him for what he has done, but you cannot stand to see your little brother suffer.

Warnings: Angst, Smut, Sibling incest

A/N: This was supposed to be an angsty comfort fic, but it very quickly got out of hand. All dialogue in italics means that the characters are speaking in High Valyrian. I was just too lazy to attempt to translate it. No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes. (Gif is not mine!)

You stormed through the castle halls, ignoring the maids and knights who quickly stepped out of your way. Usually, you would give them some sign of acknowledgment, but tonight, you couldn’t— not when your anger was boiling over. Your hands trembled with repressed rage, and your fingers curled into fists as you tried desperately to refrain from lashing out. There was only one person who was deserving of your wrath, and you were headed to find him now.

When you arrived at his door, you entered the room, not bothering to knock. The loud sound of the wooden door slamming close behind you echoed in the air. The room was dark; only a few candles were lit, though they were burning dangerously low. You squint your eyes, searching until you find the silver-haired man hunched over in his chair. Your robe made a slight whooshing sound as you stormed over to his side.

“How dare you!” Your voice cut through the air like a sharpened blade, every word dripping with venom and contempt.

Aemond says nothing. His head is lowered, and his long silver tresses conceal his face.

“You dare to lay a hand on our sister?! Has she not suffered enough?! And now you wish to send her into battle?!” Your chest is heaving wildly as you lose what little composure remains to you.

Once again, you are met with a deafening silence that angers you even more.

“Have you nothing to say?!” you yell, each word cracking like a whip. Your brows furrow and your lips curl into a snarl.

Yet once again, your words go unanswered. You open your lips, prepared to berate him even more until quiet sobs reach your ears. Your blood runs cold, and you freeze. Aemond’s body jerked with every gasp that escaped his throat.

“I am alone,” he whispers . “As I always have been.”

His words move you to tears.

“Aemond,” you whisper, stepping closer.

You reach out a hand to touch his shoulder but pull it away just before reaching him. Your mind is suddenly conflicted. Your rage is quickly converting into sadness with every second that passes. The two of you rarely saw eye to eye these past few weeks. His actions above Shipbreaker Bay had left you horrified. The abhorrent murder of your nephew, Jaehaerys, happened not long after. You blamed Aemond for that and did not bother trying to hide it from him.

Then, Aegon returned from Rook’s Rest, burned and broken beyond repair. Your mother came to you shortly after, sharing her thoughts about what had happened. She believed Aemond to be responsible, but you could not bring yourself to believe it at the time. But as the days passed, you found yourself becoming increasingly unsure. Especially after today, when the horrific details of his actions at Sharp Point reached you. Most days, you could hardly even recognize him—this strange man who shares the face of your sweet little brother.

You take a deep breath before reaching out. Your hand trembles as you place it on his shoulder, but he does not flinch from your touch. He leans into it. Aemond raises his head just enough to look you in the eyes. His face is stained with tears, and his eye is red and gleaming with tears, ready to fall. His silver hair is unusually messy and unkempt. The leather eyepatch is gone, exposing the beautiful sapphire embedded into his eyesocket. It is a sight he has entrusted very few to see.

“I am sorry,” he cried. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“I know,” you whisper, pulling him close.

He buries his face into your stomach. His large hands gripped tightly at your sides, and you did your best not to wince. You lift a hand, brushing down his unkempt hair. You were angry at him. You had come here to yell at him, maybe even hit him, but you couldn’t. Not when it filled your heart with great sorrow to see your brother in so much pain. Your little brother. The boy you had always tried so hard to shield from the cruelty of this world. The boy who had always run to you for comfort after being humiliated by Aegon time and time again.

Aemond continued to sob. His tears made the thin fabric of your nightdress stick to your skin, and the cold wetness sent a chill down your spine. You gasp as you feel him pull you down, sitting you on his lap. He held you close, burying his face into the curve of your neck. Your hands rested against the warm, bare skin of his back as you held him. He must have been preparing for bed not long before you arrived as he was only dressed in a pair of black lambswool breeches.

“You are not alone,” you reassure him, gently kissing the scar that marred his brow. “I am here, as I always have been.”

There is a slight chill in the air, but the heat radiating from his skin keeps you warm. Aemond sniffles but says nothing. You can feel his tears sliding down your neck. You move a hand up to his head, toying with his hair. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, seemingly inhaling your scent. Aemond shifts in his seat, spreading his legs a little wider, making the position more comfortable for you. A quiet gasp escapes your throat as you feel the taut muscle of his thigh pressing into the most intimate part of your body.

The feeling sends a rush of heat through your veins. Your breath quickens as you try to push the sensation aside. Your face burns as shame begins to overwhelm you. He just wanted to be close to you, searching for comfort in your arms as he had done many times before. But your body is turning it into something perverse.

Aemond bounced his knee ever so slightly, almost like a tremble. You squirmed, trying to press your thighs closer together in hopes of stopping the heat growing in your stomach. One of Aemond’s large hands rests firmly against the small of your back. The other moves to grip the outside of your thigh.

“Aemond,” you gasp as you feel his lips grazing against our collarbones.

“What?” He asks, his voice so nonchalant.

“I think I should go,” you replied, trying to stand up.

But his hands hold onto you tight, refusing to let you go.

“Please stay,” he begged, burying his face into the curve of your neck once more.

“Alright,” you whisper, trying to calm him.

His hair tickles your nose. You lift your head a bit, resting your chin on the top of his head. You trail the tips of your fingers against the muscles of his back. Aemond nuzzles his face against your neck. He bounces his knee a bit harder. You wonder if he is doing this on purpose.

“Aemond, stop it,” you mumble, trying to ignore the fire sparking in the pit of your stomach.

“Stop what?” He asked, ghosting his lips over your jaw.

“You know what,” you whine.

He ignores you; his lips press soft kisses against your jaw. Aemond bunches the skirt of your dress into the hand that grips your thigh. He steadily inches it up higher. The cold air touching your now bare legs makes the hair on your body stand up. Suddenly coming to your senses, you gasp, slapping a hand over his as the skirt of your dress reaches just above your knees. He tries to continue, but you use all the strength you can muster to keep his hand still.

“We must stop,” you command, trying to stop yourself from giving in to him completely.

This was wrong. You were both betrothed to other people—him to some Baratheon girl and you to the Lord of the Arbor. They were political matches, as most marriages are. You held no love for Lord Redwyne, but you would do your duty as was expected of you.

Aemond easily pushed past your hand, slipping his hand between your thighs. You gasped, trying to squeeze them together to keep him at bay. Your stomach flutters as his thumb rubs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Your fingernails dig into his forearm. You pull back, and he lifts his head to look you in the eyes.

He removes his hand from between your thighs, moving it up to your face. You find yourself melting into the warmth of his palm. The pad of his thumb ghosts over your lips, but his eye never leaves yours.

“You were supposed to be mine,” he says in the gentlest tone.

“Aemond,” you whine, trying to push him away.

But he refuses to let you go. The hand on your back kept you from standing. His fingertips trail down the side of your neck down to the neckline of your nightdress. His touch on your skin leaves you feeling almost delirious. The fire in your stomach is fully ablaze now. You squirm in his lap as his fingers graze over the tops of your breasts. You cursed yourself for this, as the feeling of his tense muscles sends waves of heat straight to your cunt. The hairs on the back of your neck raise. Your eyes close, and you bite your lip to stop crying out.

“Look at me.”

It is a command that you are unable to ignore. Aemond is the prince regent. In this moment, he speaks with the king’s voice. His absolute authority leaves you fearful and painfully aroused. Once again, your eyes meet his. He says nothing, simply watching you like a predator stalking its prey as his hand moves over your nightdress, cupping your breast. You gasp, slapping a hand over his. You know you should push him away, but you don’t.

A chill runs down your spine. Under his gaze, you feel completely exposed, almost powerless—a feeling you usually dislike greatly. You were a princess of the realm and a dragon rider. You were anything but helpless. Yet you find yourself wanting nothing more than to surrender yourself to him, to escape from your worries and sorrows, to be free from all the tiring expectations that have been placed upon you since your birth.

“Am I so hard to love?”

His voice trembled, as he struggled to hold back tears. The authority is gone, replaced with something much more vulnerable. The sight broke your heart in two. You had always worried about Aemond, your sweet, sensitive little brother. Since he had come of age, he had changed. He was colder and more distant, not just from you but from everyone, even your mother, whom you know he cared for greatly. It was like he believed he had to be this... pillar of strength, or all would crumble.

You remove your hand from his, moving it up to cup the scarred side of his face. You lean down, pressing a gentle kiss on his brow. You have done this so many times over the years, yet it has never felt as intimate as it did now. Aemond closed his eye, leaning into your touch. A sharp pain stabs at your heart as you watch how desperate he is for your comfort.

The hand on your breast slid back down to your thigh. Aemond’s fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt. Your thumb traced down the deep scar that marked his cheek. You lean down, peppering kisses from his cheek to his jaw, where the scar stops. He turns his head slightly, so that your lips hover above his, almost touching. You rest your head against his. His violet eye stared into your own.

“What of Floris? She is to be your wife.” You say, hoping he may come to his senses, as yours have fled from you completely.

“You will be my wife... for tonight.” A single tear drops from his eye as the words leave his lips.

It is such a beautiful, harrowing sight. One that leads you to shedding tears of your own. Aemond’s hands grip you by the waist, hoisting you up just enough for you to straddle him. Your knees rest on both sides of his legs, trapping him between your thighs. A wave of heat runs through your veins as your bare cunt presses against his clothed bulge. He leans forward, capturing your gasp with his mouth. One of your hands cups his face while the other pushes his hair away from his face.

The two of you shared passionate, frantic kisses. You had not been prepared from when Aemond’s tongue slid into your mouth. You whine, caught off guard, but do your best to follow along with him. You had no experience with such things. The only kisses you had ever experienced came from tall, handsome knights in your dreams. But even then, those kisses were nothing like this. They were short and sweet. A quick peck on the cheek or lips, but this was much different. Aemond kissed you with such urgency, such deep burning desire.

Aemond lifts his hips, pressing himself against you. The feeling of his hard cock pressing against your aching cunt makes you cry out, though your noises are muffled against his lips. The feeling is so foreign, yet exciting, that you can’t stop yourself from reaching down to palm him through his trousers. His hardened cock is thick and throbbing beneath your touch. A newfound confidence blooms in your chest.

A sound rumbled in his chest; his large hands gripped your ample hips. Your hands moved to grip his shoulders as you rocked yourself back and forth, your bare cunt grinding against his clothed bulge. He hissed, knitting his brows together. You watch as his face contorts into one of pleasure. Your own burning desire is growing too much. Your desperate, heavy breaths fill the air as you grind yourself against him even faster, desperate to reach your peak. He looked up at you; his mouth hung open slightly as he watched you use him for your own selfish gratification.

It’s exhilarating- him watching you- seeing you in a way no other ever has, touching you in a way no other ever has.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises.

His praise sends another wave of pleasure coursing through your veins. The room suddenly feels unbearably hot. You’re so close; you can feel it. The pressure building up in your stomach is eager to be released. You roll your hips even faster, harder. But it is not enough. The throbbing in your cunt is almost painful. You are nearly sobbing at this point.

“I want more,” you whine. “I need more. Please, brother.”

“I am at your mercy, sister,” he smirks. “Take what you want.”

You reach down, huffing as you struggle to untie the laces of his trousers. You can feel his chest vibrate against you as he chuckles.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you grumble.

“My apologizes-” he shudders as your hand wraps around his thick cock. Finally freeing him from the confines of his trousers.

A triumphant smile crosses your face. You give his cock a few strokes, admiring the way it stands so prettily for you, so thick and full. Suddenly, you begin to fear the thought of having to fit it inside of you. Aemond seems to sense your worry. His hand cups the back of your neck, making you look at him.

“Take it slow,” he warns.

You nod, lifting yourself on your knees a bit. Your wetness coats your fingers and his cock as you press the tip into your aching cunt. You whine as the head breaches your walls, and you clamp tightly around him. The stretch is a bit uncomfortable but not painful. You may be a maiden, but you still had desires. Many nights, you have had to satiate your hunger with your fingers.

You lower yourself on him slowly. Thankfully, your wetness makes it easier to take him. You take a deep breath as you take him to the hilt. It takes you a moment to adjust to his size.

“Are you okay?” Aemond asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

“Yes, I just ... need a moment,” you breathlessly laugh as he lifts a hand to trail his fingers against your jaw.

He nods, raising his chin to kiss gently against the corner of your mouth. You turn your head, pressing your lips to his. A soft tongue gently licks at the swell of your bottom lip, and you grant him entry. The gentleness comes to an end. He licks into you with a fervor that steals your breath away. Your thoughts fade, and you melt into his arms.

Aemond kisses you like he wants to devour you, and you want nothing more. You lift your hips before lowering yourself. Aemond finally breaks the kiss, and his hands move to your waist.

“Ah-h,” he whines against the corner of your lips.

You begin to move slowly, easing yourself into up and down on his cock. Your eyes never leave him, watching as he presses his head to the back of the chair. His chest moves with his deep breaths, his eye is closed, and his mouth is partially open. He shudders, and a desperate, eager moan emits from his throat. It is a sight to behold.

He lifts his hips, pressing deeper into you, making you cry out.

“Aemond!” You whimper, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.

His eye fluttered open as he watched you struggle to find the right pace. He gripped your waist tighter, his fingers digging into your fleshy sides. He guided you, raising you up and down on him. The newfound pace made you mewl pathetically, but you were too desperate to reach your peak to care. He called out your name. It sounded almost sinful coming from his lips.

You drop your head, resting it against his. Your mouth hangs open as you gasp and moan. The faint scent of pine and smoke fills your nose. It’s him, his scent. The smell is almost intoxicating. Your mind is swimming, dizzy from the pleasure of him bucking up into you.

You feel one of his palms cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer. He lifts his chin, closing the small distance between you pressing his lips to yours. You try your best to follow the frantic rhythm he sets. He swallows every sound you make as he holds the back of your neck, refusing to let you pull away—not that you want to.

Aemond plants his feet on the ground for leverage as he pumps into you. His thrusts are more erratic now as he approaches his end. The air in your lungs is incinerated, and a shameful, high-pitched moan escapes from your lips. You move your hips, rocking against him, dangerously close to finally reaching your peak.

He doesn’t stop, bucking into you with a force that would be strong enough to toss you off of him if not for the hand holding onto your waist. Your hot cunt clenched around him, the muscles in your legs burned from remaining in this position for so long.

It’s not fair- how good he is at this- how good he is making you feel. It’s all too much. Your poor wet cunt is overwhelmed with pleasure. The hand on your neck moves down, and the pad of his thumb rubs circles around that sensitive button between your legs.

“That's it,” he coaxed, his hot breath fans on your mouth. “Let go, give it to me.”

You don’t stand a chance. Not when his cock makes you feel so full, reaching that one spot that makes you throw your head back. One of your hands tangles in his hair, tugging. Your chests’ are flushed against each other as you both rock against each other. You clench around his cock as you finally reach your release, hard and blinding. The world around you seems to disappear. It’s only you and him who matter.

“Ha-ah ... ah,” he sputtered, becoming more desperate.

You cry out as you fill his hot mouth, which latches into one of your breasts. He suckles at your breast like a starving babe. His tongue lashes back and forth around your hardened nipple. The sensation is strange but has you clenching around him even tighter.

His teeth graze against your nipple. Every grunt and moan that leaves him vibrates against your breast. You can feel his thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. His cock pulses inside of you, it feels too good. Aemond releases your nipple, resting his forehead on your breast. Choked gasps and grunts slip past his lips as he reaches his peak, releasing inside of you, filling you with his seed.

The two of you stay pressed against each other as you come down for your highs. Aemond’s hips relax, his body melting into the chair. Your body sinks into him, boneless and spent. You lay your head on his shoulder, resting your chin on his collarbone. His fingertips trail over the curve of your back. Your eyes feel heavy as you struggle to keep them open.

“I am sorry for what I’ve done,” he apologized.

“I know,” you reply weakly.

You can feel his warm breath against your ear. His scent, mixed with his sweat, fills your nose, bringing you comfort.

“Our sister has too much of our mother in her. I see that now.”

You frown but say nothing, letting him continue. His lips press against your ear. He nudges your face with his shoulder, making you pull away. He grasps your chin between his thumb and index fingers. Your eyes flicker between the sapphire and his violet iris. You lift a hand to trail your fingers along his sharp jaw.

“But you and I,” he says, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “We are two flames kindled from the same fire. We were always meant to burn as one.”

“Aemond,” you sigh.

“I am afraid,” he admits, rendering you speechless. “I cannot fight this war alone, sister.”

“You are not alone,” you argued. “You have Daeron.”

“Tsk,” he turns his head. “He is still young, as is his dragon.”

“Young or not, Tessarion is still a dragon.”

Aemond says nothing. His eye stared at the plain stone wall of his bedchamber. You watch him silently, trying to read him.

“Come with me,” he asked, turning his head back to you.

“What?” You gasp.

“Mount your dragon and go with me to Harrenhal.”

“Mother would never allow it,” you shake your head.

“Our mother has made it clear that she does not hold our best interest at heart.”

“She means well,” you protested, trying to defend your mother, no matter how true his words seemed.

“If we do not fight, we will die. Rhaenyra may spare you and Helaena, but she will not be so merciful to the rest of us. She will have to take Aegon’s head, mine, and Daerons's as well. So long as our father has a living son, she will never be able to rule in peace.”

“You don’t know that-”

“I do,” he insisted. “Is that not what our mother has told us our entire lives?”

You blink, and memories of your childhood flood your mind. He was right. Over the years, your mother had repeatedly stressed the dangers that would follow should your sister ascend to the throne.

“Come with me,” he whispered.

Your eyes flickered from his trembling lips to his tear-filled eye. It was not an order but a plea. He was afraid and desperate for aid. You were afraid as well—you had been since Ser Criston placed that crown upon Aegon’s head. It has only been a few weeks, and already, your life has been turned completely upside down.

You had no desire to fight this war. Many times, you have had to stop yourself from climbing on your dragon and leaving. But you could not abandon your family, just as you could not abandon Aemond now.

You nod your head. He smiled, a look of relief crossing his face. One of his hands finds yours, lacing your fingers together before bringing his lips to yours, giving you one last sweet and adoring kiss. Once he pulls away, you lay your head back down on his shoulder.

“Can I go to sleep now?” You mumble against his skin.

“Yes,” he lets out a breathy laugh. “You can sleep now.”

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