#she seems good at doing that and i appreciate having the space again

[d1xonss]

Practice Makes Perfect

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 11

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : ⚠️ Smut (18+)

✧ Word Count : 8.9k

AN ~ Okay, so this was originally a request sent in by annon, but when I first uploaded it, I wasn't completely happy with the turnout. It felt a bit rushed and there were some things I wanted to change so I figured I would reupload and try again. So in other words, if you've already seen me post this once, no you didn't:) Hope you enjoy! xoxo

ps- Daryl's a sub in this so if you're into that, this is definitely for you;)

Daryl stood slumped over at the kitchen counter in the shitty apartment he now called home, the space oddly silent as the kids were off with Carol for the day. But the quiet was nice, it gave him time to think, time to let his mind wander as he slowly woke for the day. The smell of coffee hit his nose as it brewed softly from behind him, the light streaming in through the opened windows to let in the fresh breeze. 

Though his gaze remained downcast at the piece of paper that sat in front of him, his eyes rereading the words over and over again to the point where he had it memorized. The neat cursive of your handwriting, the small errors in your spelling, and especially the little heart you placed at the bottom where your name was signed. You had left it the first time you came over, and even though you didn’t have a clue in the world, he had kept it ever since. Mostly because he didn’t have the heart to throw it away. Though there might’ve been another small part of him that held onto it because it was something you wrote out for him, and him only.

He reminisced about how stressed he was that day, having just moved into the Commonwealth with two of his kids, trying to figure out the new community and routine they would have to grow accustomed to. It was all very surreal having to go back to a “normal” kind of life, Judith already asking for allowance before he even had his first day of work made his head spin. But then with just a soft knock on the door, came a sight that he never expected to see.

You stood there on the other side, all pretty and perfect, wearing a smile on your face and holding out a container of cookies as some kind of welcome. You explained that you lived just down the hall and heard about the new arrivals, wanting to do something special as you expressed your understanding for how weird it must’ve felt for him. And after offering your baked goods and assistance to whatever they might need, all Daryl could do was nod his head as he stared at you dumbly. He wasn’t trying to be rude, in fact he appreciated your words more than anything in that moment. However, he couldn’t help but ogle you as if you walked straight out of a Disney movie or something.

And it was safe to say those feelings never exactly went away. In fact every time he saw you they only seemed to worsen.

The kids however were even more hooked with you than he was, your cookies really winning them over in the beginning as they finished them within a day and a half. “Marry her.” was the first thing Judith told him after tasting the delicious treat, and he couldn’t deny he was amused. Though he obviously wasn’t looking to date or marry anyone ever, the idea of eating whatever you baked for the years to come...it tempted him a bit.

But the reality of it all was that he didn’t want to ruin his blossoming friendship with you, it was far too precious for him to ever risk. That, and he had absolutely no experience with relationships whatsoever. He had kissed a girl once when he was about fifteen, but other than that, he hadn't been with anyone in his entire life. Never even showed interest in any woman that attempted to flirt or touch him as he simply didn’t ever feel the need to want that. He always preferred to be on his own, that’s just the way that it was. 

But now as he stood there, reading over your note you left on top of the container of cookies all those months ago, he knew he was in way over his head with someone like you.

Just then the front door suddenly opened up, the sound causing him to jump a bit as your familiar voice called out, “It’s me!”

It had become a common occurrence for you to just walk into each other's homes without knocking, and though Daryl didn’t mind, now was clearly not the time. He scrambled to open up a random drawer, tossing the note inside before slamming it shut again, “Kitchen.” he called back with a huff.

He saw your head peek around the corner a few seconds later, smiling as you adjusted the strap of your purse, “Hey, you busy?”

“Nah,” he said as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, “Just…makin some coffee.” he gestured, offering you a thin lipped smile.

You nodded, “Where are the kids?” you asked, sitting yourself down at one of the stools across from him, “I found some things I think they’ll like, I figured I’d stop by and drop them off.”

“They’re out with Carol, she offered to take ‘em for a couple hours.”

“Oh.” you nodded again as you watched him turn around to pour himself a cup of coffee, “Well, that’s nice…you deserve some peace in the mornings every once and a while. I can just leave them here.” you suggested as you took the two little boxes out of your bag, placing them down on the counter.

He hummed a response before retrieving some milk and sugar to pour a decent amount into the mug, making you question everything as he was always adamant on having his coffee black. The way God intended or something. But then your expression softened a bit seeing him setting it down in front of you instead, making it the way he knew you loved.

“Oh, I don’t need any-” you tried to protest.

“It’s just coffee,” he said as if it were no big deal, “No roofies or anything, I swear.”

You snorted at his shitty joke, like you always did, raising the cup to your lips as you muttered, “Smartass.” just loud enough for him to hear.

He smirked a little at your response, pouring himself a cup of the steaming hot beverage as the two of you enjoyed it in the nice comfortable silence. His eyes never strayed away from you for very long however, almost as if he was casually taking in your appearance without you noticing too much. You always dressed up pretty, your hair styled to perfection, wearing some kind of boot or high heel, and paired with some fancy outfit that was far too much for the apocalypse. But Daryl never minded. In fact, he found it endearing.

Though he couldn’t help but let his mind wander a bit, noticing that it had been quite a long time since he had seen you. Usually the two of you would get together a few times a week simply because you had grown to love each other’s company. But recently you had been busy with other things, with other people. Perhaps that’s why he found himself staring at your note this morning, subconsciously missing you without even realizing it.

“You avoiding me or somethin?” he then broke the silence, his question lighthearted but a part of him was a little serious. His insecurities tending to get in the way of things.

Your brows furrowed a little, “What?”

He shrugged a bit, “Just noticed you’ve been busy lately…haven’t seen ya in a while. Miss ya.”

You gave him a sad smile, “Believe me, I’m not doing it on purpose, work has just been insane. We recruited a few new people who don’t know what the hell they’re doing, training them has been a disaster, and…” you trailed off as you looked at him, noticing the small smile he wore when watching you ramble on and on. “...I miss you too.”

“Then stay for a while.” he said, his voice soft, seeing if he could keep you a few extra minutes before you would ultimately have to go to work.

You sat up a bit straighter at the invitation, “Yeah? You want me to?”

“Course.” he reassured, though his statement made him feel a bit uneasy, roughly clearing his throat to slightly divert the topic, “Just…don’t get too comfortable cause you ain’t movin in.”

He heard you laugh softly, the sound being almost too perfect to be real, “Don’t worry, I know you like your little bachelor pad going on here.” you gestured.

He scoffed, “Yeah, when the kids ain’t hoggin it.”

You hummed before a slow knowing smile was brought to your face, gently setting down your mug, “You know, speaking of…I talked to Carol recently. She told me some pretty interesting things.”

He raised an eyebrow, whether it was one of concern or curiosity, you couldn’t tell, “Oh yeah? Bout what?”

“You. And…Connie.” you hinted.

A look of surprise crossed his face, “What bout Connie?”

You shrugged innocently, “She seems to think you have a little thing for her.” you said, taking another sip of your coffee as you looked around, “Maybe this won’t be a bachelor pad for long.” you winked.

Daryl was left baffled. Why Carol would think he had a thing for Connie, he had no idea. But she had gotten it completely wrong, and now the girl he had been pinning over was under the same impression from the misinformation. But he couldn’t necessarily correct you, not without you questioning why. This conversation couldn’t have been going any worse, and all because he just wanted you to stay for a damn cup of coffee.

He couldn’t help but chuckle nervously, running a hand through his slightly messy hair, “You and yer wishful thinkin, girl.” he tried to brush off.

You tilted your head a bit at his dismissive tone, “I just want you to be happy.”

The sincerity in your voice made his heart flutter in an unimaginable way, finding he couldn’t stop the smile that spread onto his face. This is exactly why he liked you, your heart was far too big for your own good. “Yer pretty sweet, ya know that?”

“I’m just being honest,” you spoke softly, “If anyone deserves happiness, it’s you.”

He scoffed lightly in response, “Well, I appreciate that…but I don't think that's somethin I want...it ain’t really that simple for me. I can’t just…do that with Connie. Or any woman really. I ain’t good at that kinda stuff, I dunno what the hell m’ doin. I never even-”

A lump formed in his throat as he suddenly cut off the last part of his sentence, feeling his face get hot with embarrassment at what almost dared to slip out. He hadn’t meant to say that much, he never wanted to admit this kind of stuff to anyone let alone the woman he was enamored by. But now he had gone too far, he became far too open and honest about his inexperience, and now all he wanted to do was crawl into a hole and die. 

Apparently, the conversation could get worse.

Though whether it was because of your innocence or the fact that it was early in the morning, you weren’t picking up what he was putting down as your face morphed into confusion instead. “Never even…what?”

Oh for the love of God.

Daryl cleared his throat awkwardly as he ran a hand over his face, the redness spreading down his neck as he debated on whether or not to tell you. It was mortifying, the fact that he had gone fifty whole years without touching a woman was absolutely the last thing he wanted you to know. Yet at the same time, he trusted you. He trusted you wouldn’t laugh or make fun of him for the matter. And anyway, he felt it was a little too late to back out now given the intrigued look on your face.

“Never had…y’know…” he trailed off with a gesture of his hand, hoping he wouldn’t have to actually say it out loud.

A beat of silence passed before your eyes widened a little as you connected the dots. Though you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it. No way this man was a virgin.

“Shut up.”

Daryl felt his cheeks burn brighter at your disbelief, “M’ serious…I ain’t ever…done that before.”

“You’ve never had sex?” you asked as if to make sure you were truly on the same page.

He blinked, “No.”

You slumped back in your seat with a breath, “Wow…” you muttered, watching as he grew more uncomfortable by the second. Though you weren’t trying to make him uneasy by admitting such a thing, it just genuinely surprised you that he had gone this far in his life without sleeping with someone. I mean…he was attractive, kind, somewhat of a smartass. It was hard to believe no one had fallen for that sort of thing, causing you to wonder just how much he had missed out on.

You nodded to yourself, “We gotta get you laid or something.”

His eyes widened in absolute horror, clearly not expecting that response from you, “No, no that’s- what?” he exclaimed in disgust, “You ain’t gettin me laid.”

“Why not?” you asked in mild disappointment.

He set his mug down on the counter with a soft slam as he grunted in slight frustration, “Christ (Y/N), cause it ain’t that easy. I don’t just wanna screw around with someone, that ain’t me. I would have to have…feelings for that person to get that far, y’know?” he asked, silently pleading with you to understand.

His outlook made you slowly realize that Daryl wasn’t like any other guy you’d ever met. Well, you always knew that, but hearing his genuine words seemed to make you falter for a moment as you just simply stared at him. Any other guy would absolutely dive head first for the opportunity to have a random and meaningless hookup, something to make them feel good before forgetting about the other person as a whole. Using them to just get what they wanted. 

But Daryl…was the complete opposite; probably the biggest sweetheart the world had ever seen. You knew he would want to love and cherish that person he would share such an intimate moment with, treating them with the most respect and consideration. He would probably take it as slow as possible, not only to prolong the intimacy, but to make sure they were truly comfortable. You imagined him to be gentle and kind, even after the deed was done, he would continue to take care of them, offering to get them anything their heart desired. 

Thinking about all of this caused an unexpected flutter in your stomach, one that you didn’t expect. But you couldn’t deny it was there.

You blinked a few times to snap yourself out of it, clearing your throat awkwardly, “I know that…I honestly wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” you smiled softly.

His shoulders relaxed a bit upon hearing your response, nodding in appreciation as he assumed the topic of conversation would end here, hoping to get out of this humiliating misery. But before he could speak, your gentle voice cut off his words.

“Is there someone you have feelings for?"

His eyes widened a little at the unexpected question, "...Huh?"

"Is there someone you’d want to, you know…experience that with?” you clarified.

He paused again, swallowing nervously as there was a certain heaviness to that question he couldn’t place. Of course there was. The way he felt about you was unlike anything else he had ever experienced before. In the beginning he denied it relentlessly, because he simply couldn’t accept the fact that he had managed to open up his heart to someone so special. But there was no denying it anymore, at least to himself. Though you on the other hand, could never know the truth.

“Nah.” he said simply.

You nodded slowly in understanding, quietly tapping your fingers on the counter as if you were trying to figure out what to say. “Well…if there comes a time where there is someone, and you need some advice…I’m always around.” you assured.

He nodded slowly, “Alright...” he said in appreciation, trying to mask how he was really feeling, his heart feeling like it was about to burst out of his chest at the thought of you seeing through him.

“Dropping the topic now.” you said as you raised your hands in surrender.

He chuckled gruffly, “Thanks.”

You smiled up at him, before catching a glimpse of the time blinking on the oven, “Oh shoot, I should go. I have to head into the infirmary in like fifteen minutes.” you said as you quickly drank one last mouthful of coffee.

Daryl tried his best not to let his disappointment show, nodding once more as his eyes followed you when you moved around to place your empty mug in the sink. Though the disappointment seemed to diminish when you turned around to give him a hug, your arms going around his shoulders as you gave him a soft squeeze. He found himself smiling at your familiar gesture, patting your back before he pulled away first, his hand lingering on your arm.

“Stay outta trouble, alright?” he mumbled.

“Always.” you promised in return.

An entire week had passed since that little talk the two of you had in his home, and it was safe to say that it had been plaguing Daryl’s mind ever since. He couldn’t recall the last time he was so open with someone, not being able to tell for certain if he regretted it or not. Though he couldn’t deny that your support and understanding wasn’t something to take for granted. But the longer he thought about the interaction, the more he wished he’d told you the truth.

Maybe he should’ve laid it all out there, but then again he had a lot to lose. Having no idea how you would react to his confession, he could potentially scare you off, and that was something he didn’t know if he should risk. He became a mess of emotions as he pondered endlessly over the things that clouded his thoughts. Although he couldn’t deny that he was slowly starting to find the idea of sex more and more appealing the longer he thought about it. Maybe having a little experience wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. But that also meant having to ask you for that experience, and he knew he would rather die than put himself out there like that.

Though as the days dragged on and he grew more restless, he physically couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it. This was way out of his comfort zone, he knew that, but he felt like he was going crazy at this point. At least if you said no then he could just move on and not absolutely spiral about the constant “what ifs.” So, with that in mind, he smoked an entire joint by himself in order to calm his nerves before gathering what little confidence he had left, and headed down to the infirmary where he knew you’d be at this hour. He couldn’t let himself think about the decision too much otherwise he knew he would surely chicken out. 

The door opened with a soft creak as he stepped inside, scanning the area for you. He disregarded the people sitting in the waiting area, clearly anticipating when their name would be called, opting out to peer around the corner to try and see if he could spot you. And sure enough he managed to catch a glimpse of your frame in the back, stocking up a nearby medicine cabinet as you organized a few pill bottles. You were wearing that little white doctors coat that he knew you hated, thinking it ruined your outfits. But he always found it quite attractive.

He awkwardly stood there for a moment as if debating whether or not to go back there, knowing he didn’t exactly have permission. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, letting out a small whistle in hopes to get you to look at him. It was a quiet, soft sound, but it caught your attention nonetheless, glancing over your shoulder to see him standing there lingering in the waiting room. He smiled a bit, gesturing with a hand as if asking if he could walk over to talk to you, to which you nodded almost immediately, waving him back.

Daryl let out a breath once you beckoned him to come over, silently slipping past everyone else to join you in your more secluded spot, “Hey.” he breathed.

You smiled, “Hey, what’re you doing here?”

Once you said that, it hit him. What was he doing here? He showed up to where you worked of all places to have this private discussion, not even considering the option to invite you over sometime to talk like adults. Maybe he underestimated how high he really was.

“Just uh…just wanted to see ya.” he said quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he figured there was no backing out now, “Can we talk for a minute?”

“Oh, um…” you trailed off as you looked around, making sure no one needed your assistance, “You might have to make it quick.”

He nodded in understanding, “Right, course…I promise it won’t take long.”

Your brows furrowed a little in concern, “What’s going on?”

He cleared his throat nervously, gripping the material of his jeans as he felt his palms begin to sweat, “You know, uh…you remember that morning you came over a few days ago? When we was talkin in the kitchen?”

“Mhm.” you nodded.

He swallowed thickly as his heart was beating concerningly fast, trying to force himself to just say it, “Well, I been thinkin…bout what you said and…all that,” he gestured with his hand, “Bout gettin some real experience.”

Your eyebrows raised a little, “Really? You changed your mind?”

“Yeah, I did,” he grunted, “I think it could help, y’know…get outta my comfort zone and whatnot. See what all the fuss is bout.” he joked dryly, purposefully dancing around the subject.

You smiled a bit in surprise that he was willing to take that step, knowing normally he wasn’t one for change or trying new things. But maybe this time he was really ready to put himself out there, and you couldn’t lie, you were happy for him. Though the more you thought about it, the more you became a bit discouraged at the thought of him with another woman. You didn’t know where it came from, this pang of jealousy, but you knew you couldn’t say anything. After all, you were his friend, and he clearly came here in search of the support you always provided.

So, you managed to push your lingering thoughts aside, smiling genuinely as you gave his arm a small nudge, “Well, I think that’s great.”

He hummed as he nodded his head, trying to force himself to just stop being a coward and ask, “But I also had…somethin to ask ya.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Oh? About advice?”

“Nah…not exactly,” he mumbled as he let out a heavy sigh, “I was just wonderin…if you’d…” he trailed off again as he took another moment to look at you. He knew there was no going back after he said this, questioning last minute if it was really worth it. But seeing that gleam in your eyes and the sweetness of your smile, the words just seemed to stumble out without his permission.

“If you’d be the one to give me some experience.” he said quietly, his tall frame leaning down a bit to mutter it quietly for your ears only.

Your stomach plummeted when you heard his quiet request, feeling as if the wind was knocked out of you as that was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth. The way his tone dropped when he asked, the fact that he took a small step closer to tower over you more than he normally was. It was all doing something to do. The tension between you was there, thick enough to cut with a knife as you stared at him practically gaping like a fish, not knowing what to say.

On one hand, you were flattered, and a little turned on by the fact that he wanted you specifically to give him the experience he craved. But another part of you felt hesitant, as if you weren’t one hundred percent sure he knew what he was asking of you. You wanted him to get out there, escape his comfort zone, but you didn’t want him to do it just because you simply suggested it.

Though just as he was growing a bit worried at your silence, you finally spoke, “...Me? You…you want it to be me?” you whispered.

He let out a soft breath, “Well…yeah. I...I really like ya, and...I trust ya.” he admitted, gazing down at you with a certain gentleness in his eyes, “But you know…you don’t gotta if you dont want to. I ain't gonna pressure you or anythin, I just thought I'd...” he trailed off, realizing he was talking far too much.

But you didn’t feel pressured, quite the opposite really. You honestly just couldn’t believe this was actually happening, it was a lot to process, and you hardly knew what to say. Time seemed to be moving incredibly fast and slow at the same time as you stood there, staring at each other with a newfound feeling.

Though just as you were about to open your mouth to speak again, someone popped around the corner and called your name, clearly needing some help. Daryl silently cursed at the interruption, though it was to be expected. He was coming to the conclusion that this was probably the worst time to be having this discussion.

“Sounds like they need ya...” he said softly.

You tilted your head as you didn’t want to go, your expression turning sympathetic, “I’m sorry.” you whispered.

Daryl shrugged it off, “It’s alright.” he said, hesitating for a moment, before reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. Your eyes widened a little at the gesture, the comfort of his touch, feeling yourself almost leaning into his hand before he took it away too quickly.

“I’ll um…I’ll see ya around, okay?” he said with a nod before turning to head out, not even giving you a chance to respond. 

You were a little shocked at his sudden rush to get away, but at the same time you understood. He must’ve been incredibly embarrassed and ashamed, especially since you hadn’t given him an answer. A part of you wanted to call him back, but you knew better than to do that, knowing he was already too far gone to hear you anyways.

Daryl couldn’t even begin to describe his regret as he walked back home, the distance between his apartment and the infirmary giving him way too much time to think. You didn’t seem completely disgusted, but clearly you weren’t a huge fan of the idea given the look on your face. He knew this was a bad plan from the get go, but he still somehow convinced himself to do it, now wishing he had never opened up his mouth at all. He felt a certain grief wash over him as he could imagine he had ruined whatever relationship he had with you, needing to learn to let it go. 

The remainder of the day passed by in a flash, ending with him taking a long, hot shower in an attempt to ease the tension in his muscles and the thoughts circling his mind. The water sprayed down on him like an element of lava given the harsh temperature, his fingers running through his wettened hair as he rinsed out the soap and bubbles. Perhaps the longer he spent under the running faucet, the more it would make him forget about the embarrassing events of the day. It caused him to wonder what you were thinking at this moment in time, but then again a part of him didn’t want to know.

“Daryl?”

His eyes widened in surprise when he heard the sound of your voice, momentarily considering it to be just his imagination, but the sound of the front door closing with a familiar slam convinced him otherwise. What the hell were you doing here? And with the worst timing in the world.

“Y-Yeah? I’m in the shower.” he called out without thinking, the door being opened a crack and just enough to where he hoped you could hear him.

You fidgeted nervously near the front entrance, hearing his slightly muffled words made you rethink your decision to come over, seeing it clearly wasn’t the best time. “Oh, okay...should I um…should I come back later?”

“No, no,” he quickly called out again, “Just…just gimmie a sec.” he said as he frantically finished up before you had the chance to leave.

With his reassurance in mind, you stayed put as you waited for him, briefly hearing the water shut off after only a few seconds. Your thoughts ran wild as you pondered over the things you wanted to say, having not been able to take your mind off the interaction for your whole shift. It was distracting, nerve racking…but it was also a bit enticing. You had no idea what you were going to say to him, but one thing was for certain, you weren’t about to deny that his request didn’t intrigue you.

The sound of his footsteps approaching is what snapped you out of your thoughts, your eyes widening a fraction as you saw him step into the living room in nothing but a towel. The truth was, he was just far too anxious to hear what you had to say to take the time and put on real clothes. Though now as he stood a few feet from you with just a thin piece of fabric shielding him, he felt a little exposed under your lingering gaze. But you couldn’t bring yourself to look away, his messy hair sticking to the sides of his face and the water droplets that clung to his skin, it truly was a sight to behold.

Had you always looked at him like this? From the moment you met, you always saw him as a close friend and someone you could count on for anything. But now it was like a switch flipped or something, nearly drooling as you saw him in a way you never had before.

“Somethin you need, sweetheart?” Daryl’s voice broke through the silence.

You blinked a few times as you were brought back to the current situation, nodding absentmindedly, “Yeah, uh…I was hoping we could talk.”

He shifted a bit on his feet, subconsciously tugging his towel up a bit, “Bout what?” he asked dumbly. He knew why you were here; he just didn’t know what else to say.

You gave him a look that made him feel stupider than before, “About earlier…” you trailed off after a moment, attempting to find the right words, “Were you…um…did you really mean all that?”

He shrugged, “Yeah…” he breathed, “You really think I didn’t mean what I said?”

“No,” you quickly reassured with a shake of your head, “It’s just…it was all really unexpected, you know? You’ve never done anything like this before, and now all of a sudden, you’re asking me-”

“I know how it looks,” he said as he dared to take another step closer to you, “But…I’ve had these feelings for ya ever since you first knocked on that damn door, alright? It’s new to you but it ain’t new to me.”

Your expression softened as he admitted this wasn’t some spur of the moment thing, not that you thought it was. But his confirmed feelings for you only drew you closer to him, hearing the assertiveness behind every word.

“Look,” he sighed, “Goin down there and askin ya that was me bein a fuckin idiot. I shouldn’t have gone about it like that, hell, maybe I shouldn’t have even asked at all...I don’t know. But I don’t want ya to feel like ya owe me a damn thing, cause ya don’t. If you don’t wanna do this-”

“I want to.”

Daryl paused for a moment when you interrupted him, feeling a bit shocked that you had made your decision just like that. But then again, you did have hours to think it over. Meanwhile he didn’t even have to think twice when it came to you.

“Y-You do?” he asked, not meaning to stutter. He was just thrown off and absolutely floored that someone as breathtaking as you would agree to something like this with him of all people.

You took a breath as you stepped closer to him, leaving just a few inches of space, “Yeah…I really do. Honestly, I’m...pretty flattered.”

He felt a sudden burst of nervousness in his chest as the reality of the situation began to set in for him. You wanted this too. He could easily see how genuine you were being as you moved to be closer to him.

Clearing his throat gruffly, he spoke again a bit quieter, “Yer flattered?” he couldn’t help but chuckle, “Ya don’t even know the half of it.”

You smiled a little, sensing both his eagerness and unease which you seemed to find charming, “It’s just me.” you reminded.

He nodded quickly, “Yeah, yeah I know…” he said as he hesitantly rested his hands upon your arms, as if to help steady himself. “I just…I don’t know what m’ doin.” he admitted a bit sheepishly.

“I know,” you reassured, “I’ll show you…you trust me?”

He nodded again, his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage as he grew more anxious by the second. Not because of her, but because of the unknown. But it was clear he was in good hands. “I trust you.”

With his simple nod of approval, you reached up to gently grasp the back of his neck, before pulling him down to meet you halfway where your lips clashed together. He gasped quietly against your mouth, the softness of your lips already addicting as his hands instinctively squeezed your arms, wanting to keep himself grounded. The taste of you was better than he ever could’ve imagined, heavenly, unreal…but what else did he expect from someone as perfect as you? As the kiss deepened, you slowly coaxed his mouth open so you could slip in your tongue, his groan in response to you only encouraged you to keep going. His kiss was hesitant and a bit sloppy, though you couldn’t help but love it.

Your free hand moved up to his wrist, guiding his hand down toward your hip as if silently encouraging him to touch you. Daryl received the message loud and clear, but he was still a bit clueless when it came to how, slowly allowing his hand to roam the curve of your back blindly. He then pulled you a bit closer to him, wanting to feel every part of you against his skin. But with his swift movement, caused his towel to nearly slip all the way off his waist, feeling him quickly grab it before it had the chance to hit the ground. 

He cursed quietly as he pulled away from your mouth, his breathing coming out in short, harsh pants as he grew a bit flushed at the idea of being completely naked in front of you. You allowed him to collect himself for as long as he needed, noticing the red that dusted his cheeks, but you still didn’t miss the blatant lust that filled his eyes.

Your hand reached up to gently brush some hair away from his face, “You don’t have to be embarrassed around me.” you spoke so softly, so patiently, leaving a few kisses on his cheek as if to help ease him.

He sighed shakily, trying to gather himself as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment at the feel of your touch, “I know, just…never been this exposed in front of anyone before.”

“I know,” you assured again, your mouth traveling to gently nip at his earlobe, “How about we move to your room? And you can take it off when you’re ready.”

Daryl hissed softly as your teeth grazed his ear, nodding frantically at your suggestion, “Okay…yeah.” he said breathlessly before taking your hand to guide you back down the hallway.

In a flash he had taken you into his room, shutting and locking the door behind the two of you before you gestured for him to sit down on the edge of his bed. He followed your suggestion without saying a word, willing to do just about anything you wanted right now with how incredibly turned on he was. Though he was extremely nervous, he couldn’t deny how badly he wanted you, how many times he had imagined himself in situations much like this one. Completely at your mercy.

His eyes followed your movements as you came to stand in between his legs, cupping his face to angle it up toward you. “Just relax.” you whispered before slowly kissing him again with a little more force than before.

This time he couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up in his throat, feeling the smoothness of your skin on his aging cheeks, his body physically shuttering. His hands reached out to pull you closer to his bare chest, wanting your body flush against him as his touch seemed to roam a bit more confidently. You felt his hands travel down to squeeze your ass, groaning into your mouth as your tongue invaded his mouth to taste him again. At this point he couldn’t help but wonder if this was a dream, or some kind of sick hallucination, his mind tricking his body that this was actually happening with how fast they seemed to move. But he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care right now.

You smiled against his lips as he gently groped your ass, your hands moving up towards his hair to give the roots a gentle tug as your mouths worked frantically. A shiver ran down his spine, the action making his head spin. You were so good with him, so gentle yet so firm as well. He couldn’t stop himself from breaking away from your mouth briefly, his lips moving down your neck as if he wanted to trace and memorize every last bit of your skin.

You sighed softly as your head instinctively tilted back for him, “You sure you’re a virgin? You seem pretty good at this.” you teased lightheartedly.

Chuckling against your skin, he took his time to kiss the underside of your jaw a few times before responding roughly, “Just have a good imagination is all…”

“You’ve thought about this before?”

He nodded a bit timidly against your neck, growing a bit shy at the admission, “A lot, actually…”

A smile broke out onto your face as you looked down at him, “Well, now I’m even more flattered.”

He groaned in slight embarrassment as he buried his face in the side of your neck, the words just slipping out without him being able to stop. His mind was too far in the clouds to realize fully, the lingering effects of the weed he had smoked making his mind a bit hazier. But he desperately wanted to remember every little detail, his hands trailing down toward your thighs as if he was itching to memorize your body.

“Here...” you then spoke again, moving his hands up toward the buttons of your blouse, “Help me out.”

Daryl looked back up at you with slightly widened eyes, swallowing thickly as he gave a shaky nod, beginning to undo them one by one. His calloused hands, though rough, couldn’t have been more gentle when it came to touching you. He treated every part of your skin like it was delicate glass, a piece of art to admire, as he almost didn’t feel worthy of being in this position. How could he have gotten so lucky when this was the last thing he thought he deserved.

“Keep going,” you encouraged when you felt your top fall to the floor, feeling his hands hesitantly move to unzip your skirt.

The piece of fabric slowly slid down your smooth legs and bunched at your feet, leaving you in practically nothing as you believed bras were a waste of time and effort to wear. His eyes took in every inch of you, mentally trying to capture this moment as he was already reluctant for it to end. And yet it hardly even started.

“You’re so beautiful…” he whispered as his hands reached out to touch you again, his face filled with desperation.

You smiled as you looked down at him, “Yeah?”

He nodded instantly, “Yeah…I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

A laugh escaped your lips as you leaned down to be aligned with his face, “We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” you said sweetly before leaving a kiss on his cheek.

Daryl let out a breath as you kissed his cheek, the reminder that this was far from over was almost reassuring. His growing need and want was beginning to be unbearable, his hands gripping your thighs a bit tighter as he felt his erection start to ache.

“You wanna take that off for me?”

Upon hearing your request, the gesture of your hand that pointed toward the towel still around his hips, he grew a bit anxious. It was no secret that he was a bit insecure with the way he looked, he was older, his hair and beard a bit graying, his skin worn and scarred. He knew he was about to be fully vulnerable with you, that being both a good and a bad thing. He did trust you, but he just hoped you liked how he looked despite the fact that he didn’t.

It took a moment for him to build up the courage, to which you were incredibly patient, before he finally pulled the towel off of him, leaving him completely bare in front of you. But your reaction was far from a negative one. Your eyes widened a little as you took him in, not being able to see his flaws he was so worried about as you were solely focused on how breathtaking he looked. His arms could’ve been sculpted by gods, his toned chest rising and falling with every heaving breath, and as your gaze traveled south, you were shocked at the bragging rights he seemed to hold. 

But the thing you wanted him to know the most, was that he was just as perfect to you as you were to him.

Though seeing his pleading expression seemed to stir something inside you, quickly slipping off your thong before stepping forward to straddle his hips in a fit of impatience. His eyes widened at your fast actions, but he wasn’t about to complain, his hands immediately going to your hips to hold to in place as he loved the feel of your skin against his. He didn’t know what to do now exactly, but he did know that he wanted more of you.

“You’re so handsome.” you praised, your mouth coming down to suck softly on the side of his neck. "So perfect for me."

A small gasp escaped him at your praise, your mouth working against his skin caused him to nearly melt beneath you. He had been called a lot of things in his life, but handsome and perfect were never one of them. It was new, different…and he loved it. He soaked up everything he could like a sponge, wanting to ravish in your touch forever. But when he felt you begin to rock against him, stroking his length with every pass of your hips, he couldn’t help the strangled moan he dared to let out. His hips instinctively bucked up against you in return, unable to help himself as he craved more than what you were giving him. All he could feel was his heart racing, his skin burning up, and his dick twitching as he physically needed more. His face nuzzled in the side of your neck, breathing you in as shivers of pleasure ran through him like currents of electricity.

You hummed, “You like that?” you asked, your mouth hovering over the shell of his ear where your teeth grazed his sensitive skin.

Daryl nodded his head frantically against you, losing himself in the lust he had never felt before in his entire life, “Yes…yes, I like it.” he stuttered out desperately, gripping onto you as a signal not to stop anytime soon.

He had never felt so good, the rhythm mixed with your kisses and taunting praise, he felt he could’ve imploded right then and there. He wanted more, his body craved more of you, but he didn’t know how to ask for it. His breathing was ragged at this point as he tried to hold himself back, his face still hidden in the crook of your neck as his lips began to place soft kisses against your skin. But as your pace grew more tortuous and slow, he couldn’t help but writhe and moan beneath you, not being able to take much more of your teasing.

You felt him pull back to look up at you, a distressed look painting his face, “Please.” he nearly whined. It was a tone you had never heard from him before, finding that you loved the way he was falling apart for you.

“Please what, honey?” you asked sweetly as if you didn’t already know, cupping the sides of his face, “Tell me what you want.”

A soft whimper escaped him in your agony, knowing damn well you knew what he meant. He looked up at you pleadingly, the smooth skin of your hands on his face feeling so good, but not good enough. “You…” he whispered needily, “I want you…please.” he begged.

Whilst he was beneath you, whimpering and pleading for you to fuck him, you on the other hand learned something new about yourself. The scene that played before you was something sinful, but you loved it far too much to feel even a little bit guilty. The burly man you had come to know as tough and stoic, just whimpered because of you. And for that, you had no choice but to give him what he so desperately needed.

In an instant you slowly sunk down onto his length, the size of him causing a moan of your own to escape through parted lips. Though Daryl on the other hand groaned loudly as he felt your tight walls enveloping him, his head falling back as he bit his lower lip in an attempt to silence the noises you threatened to pull from him with one simple move. It felt like he had just walked through the pearly gates of heaven, the feeling so surreal and pleasurable he couldn’t help but let it cross his mind.

As you adjusted to him, you looked down and studied his face, his brow already lined with sweat and his expression one of pure bliss. “You look so good like this.” you whispered, your finger gently tracing his jawline.

He wanted to scoff at your comment, thinking that he no doubt looked like a mess in front of you, but he couldn’t help but feel prideful at the thought of you loving it. It made him feel good, perhaps more confident even though he was fully flushed and exposed.

Though as he felt you begin to move, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and a low moan left him in response, feeling the heat in his stomach already beginning to build. His hands moved from your hips down to your thighs as if to encourage you to keep going, giving them a firm squeeze as he panted to try and catch his breath. He felt as if he were going insane with the waves of pleasure washing down upon him, the feeling like no other as he knew he was a goner from the moment you agreed. His head was spinning though he tried to concentrate, not wanting it to ever come to an end as he watched you steadily pick up the pace from above him.

His mind was lost on him as your movements quickened skillfully, his hips pathetically trying to match your pace though he was failing miserably. But he didn’t care. It felt too good to care. His fingers nearly dug into the soft skin of your thighs as he whimpered and squirmed, feeling himself already starting to chase his high. He felt a little embarrassed that it had taken him close to nothing to reach his peak, but then again, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you to stop.

Daryl grew desperate to say something, to warn you that he was getting more and more overwhelmed with the feeling of ecstasy, though he wasn’t able to form any coherent sentence. All that managed to come out were pathetic whines and moans as he desperately tried to pound into you, looking up at you with widened eyes in hopes you would get the message.

And you did. You understood completely. With a simple kiss on his lips and encouraging words, you let him know that it was okay. “I know, honey, I know.” you said sweetly, “Let go for me.”

He whimpered against you lips when you kissed him, hearing your words made him feel a bit more at ease as he felt himself just on the brink of losing all control he had left. But he couldn’t help the way you were making him feel. With his mind beginning to cloud and the desperate movements he made, he finally felt himself release deep inside you, burying his face in your neck as he came. You slowed down your pace a bit as you guided him through his high, trying to make it last as long as possible for him as he just gripped and thrusted into you harder. Near sobs began spilling from his lips as he clung onto your limbs, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths as his body was practically vibrating.

He hadn't meant to be this much of a mess, completely falling apart from underneath you as he chased his high so desperately. But with how unbelievable you made him feel, it was like he had no control over the noises he made t or the emotions he felt. Like you had complete control. And he loved it more than he was willing to admit.

It took him a while to come back down to earth, but you waited patiently the whole time, running your fingers through his tangled mess of hair as he collected his hazy thoughts. Though he couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed and a bit vulnerable, knowing he didn’t last as long as he would’ve hoped. When he finally gathered the courage to look you in the eye, he feared your reaction, as if he expected you to regret what just happened.

But instead you smiled, “You okay?” you asked gently.

All he managed was a small nod in response, letting out a breath as it was clear you weren’t upset in the slightest. But as his mind wandered a bit, he began to feel selfish, realizing he couldn’t make you feel as good as you made him feel. Leaving him overthinking the things he could’ve done differently.

“I’m sorry.” he then whispered gravely.

Your brows furrowed a little in concern, “For what?”

He blushed a bit with embarrassment, almost not wanting to explain his reasoning for speaking up in the first place. But your gaze remained expectant, and he knew he should answer. “For not…makin ya feel good.” he said sheepishly.

“Hey…” you said softly as you titled his head up to look at you, “You did make me feel good.”

The truth was you enjoyed yourself, even if you didn’t finish, you didn’t care. He was still new at this, and that wasn’t something you were about to shame him for.

He grew a little surprised at your admission, “But…you didn’t…” he trailed off, almost not wanting to say it out loud.

You smiled a little at his lack of words, “It was your first time, Daryl. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” you said, kissing his cheek reassuringly.

He sighed, “I know…but I wanna make ya feel good too.” he tried to explain.

“You will,” you nodded, “Practice makes perfect, right?” you said with a small wink.

He perked right up at that, the idea of doing this again with you hadn’t even crossed his mind. He assumed it would only be a one time thing, but hearing you say that sent a spark of excitement through him.

“So…there’ll be a next time?” he asked, trying to hide his hopefulness.

You laughed softly, “Only if you want there to be.”

He quickly nodded, he would have to be an absolute fool to say no to something like that. “Course I do…I want ya…as many times as you’ll let me have ya.”

Your smile widened as you leaned in to kiss him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to bring him flush against you. He groaned softly as his hands danced across your back, suddenly feeling very grateful. He almost couldn’t believe someone as kind and understanding would actually want him, but he couldn’t bring himself to question it for very long. Just simply wanting to live in the moment and not take it for granted.

“Wanna go again?” you asked against his lips.

“Mhm.” he hummed immediately as he deepened the kiss, his response not having any hint of hesitation. It made you laugh softly, feeling him already getting excited all over again. It was safe to say it was going to be an eventful night.

~ Thanks for reading!

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I think I've been touchy lately about my feelings of access to/participation in generativity. I've been feeling really overwhelmed lately by how much needs doing and how much disparate but necessary information I'm keeping in my head. I should probably get back into my thought maps for the work on the yard and house, because I think that will make it easier for me to empty my head when I'm not actively trying to work on something.

[russellsppttemplates]

Parenting Practice (Lando Norris)

A look into the Norris family summer vacation

Note: english is not my first language. It's been some time, hasn't it? A lot has been going on, and my mental health has taken the biggest toll, so the blog hasn't received much attention as I'm trying to keep the train going! For those who are here and have stayed, thank you for being so patient and for staying - I hope this is good enough ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm not taking requests right now, so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to send them in but know that I don't know when I'll be able to get to them!

my masterlist

Cw: reader is pregnant

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3 @sltwins

"Are you all packed, my love?", Lando asked you as he zipped his suitcase effortlessly.

"Yes - are you sure it's fine if I take my pillow?", you wondered, holding the pregnancy pillow close to you, folding it into the carrier bag.

"It's regular carry-on, and as much as I hate that I have to share my cuddles with it, I know you sleep better with it so you definitely need to take it", Lando winked.

Blushing at your husband's antics, you made sure it was packed before looking around in case you missed something you needed to pack, "seems like I'm all good too - when do we need to leave?".

"In thirty minutes - how about I make us a snack to eat, then you can go pee before we go and then we head to the airport?", Lando suggested.

"Why did you need to specify that I have to take a pee break?", you poked you tongue out at him, pinching his butt as he walked past you.

"You were the one that told me I should always inform you of when you couldn't pee for a long time! The jet will touchdown to pick us both up and go straight up again - I don't think we will have time to use the base's bathroom, and you say you don't like the jet's bathroom, so I was just warning you, woman!", he bit back playfully.

Recalling the last time where you tried to use the bathroom and had to call Pietra to hold you in case you couldn't get out on your own, afraid that the bump would make moving around the tiny space impossible, you swore you'd always plan your pee breaks carefully from now on, "I'm craving something salty", you beamed as Lando walked down the stairs.

"A salty snack for mama and baby girl coming right up!", he yelled back and you could just imagine his head shaking from side to side with a charming smile on his face.

Your mother in-law was the first to greet you as soon as you stepped inside the aircraft, Lando holding your hand to make you didn't fall and helping with your shoes, "Y/N! Oh, you look so gorgeous!", she cooed.

"It's the compression socks, isn't it?", you giggled, lifting up your long skirt to show her, "doctor said it would be better for the swelling - Goodness knows I need all the help I can with that", you mumbled the last bit.

"Don't be silly, you look beautiful!", Pietra complimented.

"She does, doesn't she?", Lando complimented, kissing your cheek before letting you go and feeling slightly jealous that everyone was now looking at you when you had been a sight for his eyes only for the past few days.

.

"Is all of that jealousy, brother?", Cisca asked her brother, touching her toes on his thigh after she sat down on her beach chair. The sun had finally showed up and there was a light breeze going on, making it the perfect beach day and it was only lunchtime as they sat on the beach bar after making the food orders.

"Jealousy? Of what?", Lando quirked his eyebrow over his sunglasses, drifting his attention from you and looking back to his youngest sister.

"The girls haven't left Y/N since the plane, only to sleep and Sav was just saying she swears she heard Athena call your wife before she fell asleep", she snickered, "You've lost favourite uncle status, we all have I think".

"Like we stood a chance to begin with", Lando scoffed, "she was made to be a mother, and before that she had all the practice with being an auntie. And the girls genuinely think they can play with baby girl like they play with their dolls once she's here with us".

"Mila is gentle most days, Athena is... still a bit hard on her movements I think - oh, just on cue!", she yelped.

"Oh, darling, that was a bit strong, wasn't it?", you scolded softly, taking her hand away from your ear after she pushed on your hoop.

"Come here, you trouble maker!", Adam called, grabbing the little girl away from your lap as you rearranged your jewellery.

"She surely has a strong grip!", you chuckled before winking at Lando, mouthing a silent "I love you, Lan" across the table.

Cisca groaned playfully, "is all of that jealousy, little sister?", Lando teased her before blowing you a kiss and mouthing it back.

.

You were enjoying the pool the villa had, soaking up the sun as you laid on Lando's chest, tracing random shapes on his chest while his hand travelled around your waist and bump, often tapping it when your little girl kicked or moved.

It was fairly quiet until the girls woke up from their naps, immediately coming down to join you and invite everyone to swim with them.

Deciding to engage in their delight, you got up and walked to the edge of the pool, carefully sitting on the warm stone and letting your legs dip in the water to cool your body while Lando dove in and played with the girls, "careful, Mila, you can't unzip your vest!", he called.

Pulling her closer to you, you managed to zip it back up and help her swim back to her uncle, "is the bump getting in the way?", Sav asked you, mimicking your early movements and sitting next to you.

"When I'm sitting down, yes", you chuckled, "I don't have the same range of movements and my mind still has to catch up with that".

"It's a sign that she's growing well though", your sister in-law added, propping herself up on her arms so she could ease the rest of ther body into the water, getting immediate attention from her children as they called her to them, "soon enough you'll have someone calling you every waking second!".

"She already does, though! Look at him making a bee line to her now that she's free!", Oliver joked as Lando swam to you.

"I won't even bother answering that", Lando pointed to his brother before reaching you, ignoring everyone else as he gently wrapped his arms around your calves and rested his chin on your knees, "hi, beautiful", he smiled.

"Hey, handsome", you smiled, brushing a fallen curl away from his forehead, "did you enjoy your splashes?", you asked giggling.

"It was fun, yes. Athena poked my eye a couple of times though", he argued, "can you imagine our little princess playing with them this time next year?", he wondered.

"Three little girls", you mused, nodding at the idea, "you better get ready to be a princess too!".

"I have what it takes to be a girl dad, some people might even say I'm very girl dad coded", he tsked you, earning laughs from you.

"You definitely are, yes", you rubbed your bump, "you haven't been her long and she's already kicking like crazy - definitely a daddy's girl".

"Hey, sweet girl", Lando spoke, lightly wetting the skin as his hands touched your bump, "are you having a good time in there? Mummy always says she's too hot so we hope you're doing good away from this heat. And this helps, no?", he wondered as the baby kicked against the droplets, "yeah, it's good and cooling", he cooed.

.

"I'm craving something salty", you said as you grabbed the menu, flicking the pages to see what tickled your fancy.

You had decided to go to the beach bar and have lunch there, not wanting to have to pack everything to go back home only to come back for the afternoon. Everyone was gathered around the table as the waiter took the orders.

"Feeling good? Well rested?", you asked Lando once you caught him looking at you.

"Yes", he admitted, "I thought it would be harder to switch off, but it's been very good", he squeezed your thigh, kissing the side of your head and pulling you to his chest, "how are my girls today? You look ethereal in this dress, darling".

The white dress was flowy at times and tight in all the right spots, showcasing your babybump perfectly, "we've been good, no more harsh kicking on my bladder which I appreciate, isn't that right, Tilly?", you rubbed just above your bellybutton, "but we're both quite hungry".

"The waiter said yours should be quick to make", he offered since the waiter mentioned that the Caesar salad was a popular plate and they always had it running.

Once everyone was served, you began eating, delighted and exclaiming how good e everything was.

"Have a bite of this, baby, trust me!", Lando offered as he gathered a bit of everything on his fork to feed you.

"It's sweet, I'm not sure I'll like it", you scrunched up your face.

"Try a little bit", he encouraged as he made a shell shape with his hand to catch anything that fell or dropped.

The food was definitely the opposite of what you had, but it was delicious. That you couldn't deny.

"It's good, isn't it? I told you!", Lando smiled, "do you want some more?", he offered while already getting everything on the fork again.

"Baby girl seems happy too", you giggled, feeling her move.

"She has good taste in food, what can I say?!", Lando giggled back.

.

The vacation was well underway by the time you decided which days you wanted to spend on the boat, Oliver and Savannah staying inside with the girls along with Adam and Cisca who decided they would make lunch for everyone.

"Do you know what I have just realised?", you spoke to Flo as you both watched Lando and Cisca's boyfriend jump into the water, "your brother has a massive head - like, it's really big, specially when you compare to Max's", you pointed to your husband's best friend who had joined you for the last few days.

That morning, you cried about the fact that your bikini dug on your hips only for Lando to tell you that you hadn't tired the sides properly and that you had more than enough room to accommodate your growing body, so right now this was a way better way to deal with the rush of hormones you were having.

"I think we all do, to be fair - Cisca has the smalled one I guess", Flo squinted as she looked at her sister who walked closer to you.

"Why are you looking at me like that?", Cisca wondered.

"I've just realised how big your brother's head is and how I'm probably going to be split apart when this little girl - little body but surely a big head - joins us", you rubbed your bump as tears formed in your eyes.

"Oh, Y/N, my friends have had babies with big heads and they're fine", Pietra offered, "they were just fine", she said before waving at Max so him and Lando could come to the rescue.

"I don't know why I'm crying, which makes this even worse - Goodness", you wiped your eyes and chuckled, "I can feel her head, it's about here from what I remember from the scans - and it's big, like, really big! How is that going to work?", you blurted.

"What's the matter? Is everything alright? Y/N, are you good? Is it Tilly?", Lando asked worriedly as he saw you break into a fit of giggles and seeing the girls fight their laughter a bit before joining.

"The matter is that you have a big head and Tilly's will also be big", you explained, "I'm not the tiniest person ever, so there's definitely room but can you imagine? I have to ask your mother how big your head was when you were born because I feel like I need to do prep work for it", you mused, "it's all natural until you decide to have a kid with the guy who has a big head".

"Oh, Y/N has gone dark", Max muttered, earning himself a swat on his forehead from Pietra, "what? Did I lie?", he hissed, containing his laughter.

"I'm not sure what you'd like me to do here, my love", Lando admitted, sitting next to you and attempting to squeeze your thigh lovingly, knowing the affectionate gesture could go both ways.

"Our baby is making me feel like I have the emotional and cognitive skills of a toddler", you mumbled as you cuddled your husband, supporting your bump with a pillow Flo got for you as you both layed down.

"It's okay, Y/N, I don't mind having to reason with you - we'll consider this practice for when we have our little one, okay beautiful?", Lando kissed your forehead.

[gomzwrites]

Task force 141 found out about your soft spots

Summary: You’re one of the members in the taskforce, and you’re one of the more quiet, self-reserved and stoic soldiers among them. They didn’t mind since they respected your personal space, but at some point, they saw just a glimpse of your rather different, softer side. a/n: I’ve had this idea in mind for a long time and just wanted to get this out there, English is not my main language so I apologize for any mistakes along the way! This is also my first fic so feedbacks are appreciated :] Tags: incorrect military terms/training, fluff, can be read as platonic or romantic, x gn!reader, reader's text is in purple Part 2 is out! PLEASE DO NOT RESHARE MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION 

Captain John Price

You were on a mission with Price in another city, stalking and trailing the target, when suddenly the target decided to take a turn and entered a cafe. With the captain’s signal, both of you followed and took a spot in one of the corners in the warm, bustling cafe. It was a perfect atmosphere; the cafe was not necessarily noisy, but the number of people and music were busy enough for you and your captain to stay hidden and blend in well. You kept a keen eye on the target, noticing that he was in the queue and, so far, not presenting any signs of danger or threats. The captain gave your foot a nudge as he diverted your attention to the young waitress beside the table that you didn’t notice. "Hi! What would you like to order?" The waitress spoke in the local language that you didn't understand, but you knew she was most likely trying to take an order with the way she held a small notepad and a pen. You gave a small nod as you glanced at Captain for a moment, who was also reading the menu. You do the same, only frowning slightly as you couldn't read anything as well, and because you wanted to get this over with, you randomly pointed at one item to the waitress as she smiled and jotted down your order.

When the waitress walked away, you followed the captain’s gaze on the target; it seemed that he was still in line. You're slightly confused but relieved that the target remains in sight. Not long after, the drinks ordered previously arrived, but your eyes remained fixated on the sketchy figure. It wasn't until the Captain cleared his throat that you broke your gaze and stared down at the table. You froze slightly at the sight before you.

You watched a little wiggle action of the foam on top of what you assume is coffee before you. Except it's not the normal flat latte art kind of foam, but a huge bear foam with a cute face drawn with chocolate. You blink once, then twice before releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding.

This is so cute!! 

You thought to yourself internally as you felt yourself smiling, before realising the situation at hand as you snapped your head towards the captain, hoping he didn't see you, and to your relief, his eyes were still glued to the target. You take this opportunity to slowly take out your phone and take a quick picture of the drink before doing the same and observing the target again. As soon as you do, the target made its move and headed to the exit, which made the both of you follow promptly, seemed like he had a bag as well which was definitely not good news. You were a bit disappointed that you were not given the chance to try the cute drink, but you know you have a job to do, so you just hope that perhaps you can take a closer look again at the coffee later on your phone.

What you didn’t know was how the Captain noticed the change in your demeanour when you spotted the drink; he honestly wasn't expecting much from you, thinking you might just ignore it. But he saw from the corner of his eyes just how your eyes widen slightly, how they are shining when you realize what you ordered, and the way your cheeks had a shade of pink on it as you smile. He rarely gets to see you smile, and he found it endearing to think a cold soldier like you has a liking for cute things. He smiled internally as he noticed how you took the photo sneakily when you thought he wasn’t looking.

He made a mental note to bring you to a cafe he knows that have those famous latte art drinks after the mission, just to see you smile like that again.

John Soap MacTavish

The military base has decided to bring in military working dogs to aid in the next mission, which involves scouting and detection for drug detection at the port, where secret drug trafficking from a certain group of terrorists has been reported.  

"Soap, you’re assigned to Max and Judy; you’ll have to talk to Sergeant Sam about the training," the Captain says as he walks through the compound. You noticed how Soap seemed to tense slightly as he clenched his jaw; you also noticed how his breath hitched as he stared at the two German shepherds standing on the sides of the dog handler; you knew he had a bad history with canines in general when you stumbled upon his journal once; and seeing how uncomfortable he was, you decided to step up for the job.

"Captain, can I do it instead?" The captain glanced back, his beard shifting as he thinks for a moment before nodding and giving you permission. Soap stared at you upon hearing your voice and gave you an apologetic yet grateful look as he breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Aye thanks… Let me know if yae ever need something from meh in the future."

He watched as you gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder as you nodded. Unbeknownst to him, you actually own a German Shepherd yourself, and you’re very much a dog person, and you’re excited to start the training with the military dogs. He stood on the side as you approached the two dogs, nodding along to the instructions given by Sam. As you bent down and extended your hand out, the two dogs gave a few sniffs before finally warming up to you, with their tails wagging as they circle your body. He’s impressed with how friendly you seem with animals, and you were natural with the dogs.

After the training, he went around looking for you as he held a bottle of ice-cold mineral water, hoping that he could give it to you since you were training heavily under the hot, blazing sun. As he turned a corner, right behind the shed, he heard a few barks. He softened his steps as he leant in and took a peek behind the wall, and he was glad he did.

Who’s a good boy? Yes, you are! Yes, you are! Come here! Oooh, such a big boy are you? You did such a great job with me just now~ oh! No wait wait- aH-!

He watched with a grin as he took in the image before him. You, giggling and rolling on the floor as the dogs lick and nuzzle your face and neck, having fun and relaxing with the dogs. He would almost forget that they were military dogs, and yet, with you? They looked domestic. On top of that, he has never heard you laugh or speak like this before; sure, you were using a baby voice and all as you cooed the dog, but he didn’t care because you have the softest yet brightest giggle, a stark contrast to your usual stoic self. He left after watching you for a while, smiling as he walked away to let you have your moments with the doggies. Next time, he’ll definitely want to join you in the training if it means getting to see this side of you more often. 

Kyle Gaz Garrick 

You groan as you sit on the passenger side as Gaz drives the Jeep. It was almost 9.30 pm as you were both ordered to buy a few furniture pieces, tables, and chairs specifically as an emergency thanks to Soap breaking them when he was messing around earlier.

"Why can’t we buy it tomorrow?"

Gaz asks as he, too, frowns and crosses his arms as a yawn escapes his mouth.

"We have a meeting with the other members from London tomorrow, and we can’t make them sit on the floor now, can we?"

Captain replied with a sigh as he frowned; he too was tired and annoyed with the situation, but he has a point. Gaz has asked you for help since the furniture needs to be carried, and you followed along (not without silently complaining).

The day has been terrible for you, it seems like bad luck was looming around your shoulders in every moment. Just this morning, you stubbed your toe and you couldn’t find your left sock, then sprained your shoulder slightly during the sparring session with Ghost. Not only that, the sandwiches that you always order for dinner were out of stock, so overall, you’re not having the best day. But who can you blame? You just decided to suck it up as you nod and follow Gaz. 

After parking a spot in IKEA, both of you decided to split up to find the respective wood and parts of the tables and chairs that, thankfully, the details of them have been sent to you by the Captain, so that the process can be faster before the store closes for the night. You sigh as you place the last part of the table in the trolley, crossing off the last serial number and name. You walk towards the place that Gaz told you to meet up with before stopping when you walk past the kid's section.

There it is, in all its glory: Djungelskog and the other notable plushies in the corner. Truth be told, you actually own two Blåhaj (they're in your house) and a baby Blåhaj in the quarters. You’re a big fan of plushies, especially the ones from IKEA and Miniso. You just haven't saved up enough cash to bring the big brown bear home. You take a step, then another, inching closer to the tray, until you’re right in front of the bear. You glanced around to make sure no one is around before you gently pick up the bear, thankful that there weren't many people in the first place due to the late hour. Without a second thought, you gave in and squish your face into its tummy as you give a big sigh and hug it tightly, smiling to yourself as you feel the stress dissolving away. Something about burying yourself in the soft cushion of cotton is healing for you; it gives you a safe, warming feeling, and it reminds you of the comfort that you never got much of as a kid.

You gave it a few more squeezes before finally parting ways with the bear, softly nudging its nose a few times as you whispered softly:

I swear I’ll come and bring you home next time I come.

You smile and place the bear back in its original position, glancing at it one last time as you spot Gaz in the distance, then swiftly push the trolley towards him. Gaz pays for the parts, and both of you head to the car. You get ready in your seat and fasten the seatbelt before Gaz speaks up.

"Oh, I forgot something. Give me a sec"

You haven’t even had the chance to ask back as he bolted back into IKEA. What did he forget? All the parts have been bought, and the store is nearing its closing time as well, but whatever it is, you waited patiently.

Maybe it's because of the long day, but as you rested your head on the window, you dozed off while you were waiting and didn’t wake up until you heard the driver's side car door open.

"Sorry it took awhile, we’ll go back now"

You nod sleepily as you murmur. "What did you forget?"

"Oh, don't worry about it", Gaz replies as he presses the gas pedal and promptly drives back to the base. You didn’t question further; you figured he probably needed something himself.

You went straight to bed after dropping off the equipment for Soap and Ghost to handle, immediately passing out as you landed on the soft bed.

The next morning, you were getting ready for the day as you stretched, satisfied that at least the sleep last night was good enough. As you open the door, a soft material lands in your room with a soft “umph” sound, you immediately look down cautiously, and that's when you see it.

Djungelskog, with its head tilted to your side as its fluffy hand remains on its tummy, on your floor. You were confused, and frankly, you were not awake enough to fully comprehend what just happened. But once you connected the dots, you smiled to yourself as you lifted the bear up and hugged it.

You make sure to buy Gaz something next time as a thank you.

Simon Ghost Riley

The day was mundane; after a few gruelling missions, the task force had many reports to do. You’ve opted to do them in one of the empty meeting rooms; you liked doing work in these rooms more than facing the concrete wall of your own quarters. At least here, the table was wide and it was fairly quiet; sometimes Ghost will join you as he feels the same. You enjoy his presence because, unlike the rest of the group, he is one of the few people you like spending time with in silence. Today was no different.

The hours go by quickly with the room filled with nothing but paper shuffling and turning pages. You sigh as you place down your pen and give a big stretch, deciding to take a break as you stand and move towards the door. The big man himself also follows along; you don’t question it; you figured he might need a break too.

As you walked away from the room, you decided to go to the bathroom. You passed by the training hall as you overheard the Captain and Laswell talking over some topics for the upcoming mission, but something caught your attention.

"....My wife brought cheesecake; it's in the fridge…."

Your ears perked up to the sound of cake; you haven’t had any dessert recently, and you do like cheesecake. You make a mental note to take a trip to the mess hall after using the bathroom, hoping to have a slice yourself.

As you make your way to the fridge silently, you approach the kitchen and let out a soft sigh of relief when the place is empty. You slowly open the door of the fridge as you poke your head in and search for any sign of cake. You were about to give up when you couldn’t see any, but you jolted slightly when you felt a pat on your shoulder. You quickly turn around, only to be met by Ghost again, with a plate in his hand. As you look at the plate, which has a slice of cheesecake, your eyes blink with hope as you slowly glance back at him. He gives you a nod as he hands you the plate, and you nod back as well with a smile, happy and grateful that he saved you a slice. You take a seat at one of the stools and grab a fork as you eat the cheesecake happily. Ghost leaned against the counter opposite you as he makes himself a cup of coffee. He watched silently as your mood seems to improve. Earlier, he saw how you stopped in your tracks when you overheard the conversation, how your eyelashes fluttered, and how your steps grew lighter. He immediately went to the kitchen when you head to the bathroom and managed to pry one last slice of Soap before he finished them, hoping to save you a piece when you come by later. As you take the first few bites with your eyes closed, you give a hum of approval as your shoulders drop. It’s not like the cheesecake was extremely good, but you can tell from the texture that it was homemade. You miss baking yourself; the last time you did it was with a roommate before you joined the military. You missed those silly moments as you clumsily mixed the ingredients and argued with your friend to stop adding too much sugar into the batter, or the time your friend made fun of you for baking the hardest brownies that can break cement if thrown at them. You also tend to have favouritism towards home-cooked stuff, no matter who made it; you always liked how the food tends to taste just slightly better. Is it because of comfort? Or the memories that flood your mind when you take in the smell? You honestly don't know; maybe it's both. Or maybe you like the thoughts and love people put into the meals when they cook. You were so lost in thought that you didn't realise you were swinging your feet idly on the stool. The stool was slightly taller than the regular one, and your legs barely touched the floor.

Ghost finds the view a bit charming—to see you relax and content over a slice of cake. It's not that he is complaining; he just never really saw you this comfortable before. He observes you silently and takes note of how you like to munch on your right cheek more than the left, making it puffy. He chuckles to himself when you start swinging your legs too. He's glad that he managed to snatch the last piece of cake, and perhaps in the near future, he’ll bring you some cake to share with you.

•·················•·················•·················•·················•·················•·················• a/n: that's all! Let me know what you think!! like a part two or something, have a nice day/night! :>

[stylesispunk]

"Did the love affair maim you too? | Final part

Joel miller x f!reader

previous part

chapter summary: Joel and you perhaps can have a happy ending.

w.c: 14,6k

warnings: angst, fluff, smut and poorly writing because I wrote in a rush and no proofreading.

a/n: Thank you to each one of you who read and enjoyed this fic. The amount of love was overwhelming and I'm thankful for it. This is the last chapter and I tried to make everyone happy with it. By the end, I realized I lost the main plot, but still, it was fun to write but I got bored AND I became a people pleaser with this chapter. Perhaps there will be more of them, some drabbles or things, but thank you so much for reading. I don't think I will write more series for a while, only one shots. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading, so much love for you. 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

You felt the beating of your heart racing as Joel kept staring at you. Those soft brown eyes on looking at you with delicate love now seemed to be a picture you wanted to save and remember as along as you could.

You wanted to find that sense of belonging to someone in a romantic way again, to be protected, to be loved.

“Good morning, Joel” You smiled at him

Joel shifted closer, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle embrace, pulling you against his chest. You nestled into his warmth, feeling safe and content in his arms.

Joel’s hand gently traced patterns on your back, and he chuckled softly. “You know… we forgot to go to Tommy’s last night,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone.

You looked up at him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “I think we had more important things on our minds,” you teased lightly, your fingers brushing against his chest.

Joel’s smile widened, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, I guess we did,” he agreed, his voice filled with warmth.

You laughed softly, feeling a sense of lightness and happiness that had been missing for so long. “I’m sure they’ll understand,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder.

Joel sighed contentedly, holding you a little tighter. “I’m just glad you’re here.” he murmured; his voice filled with a quiet intensity. “That’s all that matters.”

But as he kept his arms wrapped around you, you felt your thought drifting away. You knew you should feel content, but you couldn’t help but think this was a moment of weakness or that may everything you had lived with Joel had been like this.

You didn’t feel the warmth enveloping your heart, but a heavy sense of guilt settled in your chest, weighing you down.

Your thoughts drifted back to your fiancé, to your son. The memories of them were still vivid, the pain of their loss still fresh. How could you let yourself find comfort in someone else’s arms? It felt like a betrayal, like you were somehow dishonoring their memory by moving on. The guilt gnawed at you, making it hard to fully embrace the happiness that Joel was offering.

And then there was Lori. The guilt of her leaving Jackson, of the part you played in her departure, hung over you like a shadow. She had been hurt, her actions driven by a broken heart, and now she was gone because of it. You had wanted her gone, yes, but now that it had happened, it didn’t feel right.

You shifted slightly in Joel’s arms, the weight of your thoughts making it hard to stay still. Joel noticed, his grip on you loosening just enough for him to look at you, concern flickering in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly, his voice laced with worry.

“Nothing,” you lied, avoiding his gaze as you tried to push the guilt and unease to the back of your mind.

Joel didn’t press you further, but the concern in his eyes didn’t fade. Instead, he shifted slightly, his grip on you loosening just enough to give you some space. “Do you want to sleep a little bit more?” he asked, his tone gentle, as if he was trying to offer you an escape from whatever was troubling you.

You shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak. The weight of your emotions felt overwhelming, and the last thing you wanted was to burden Joel with your fears and doubts. But the way he was looking at you, with so much care and understanding, made it hard to keep everything bottled up.

Joel’s hand found yours again, his fingers lacing with yours in a comforting grip. “You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Sleep a little bit more. I’ll wake you up, later”

You hesitated for a moment, then gave in to the exhaustion that had been weighing on you. You turned back onto the pillow, feeling Joel’s warm presence beside you, and let your eyes close.

As you drifted off, you felt Joel’s hand still holding yours, his thumb gently stroking your skin.

A little while later, you woke up to the sound of hushed voices in the next room. Blinking sleepily, you realized Joel was no longer beside you. The warm spot where he'd been lying was now cool, and the faint murmur of conversation piqued your curiosity.

Quietly, you got out of bed, slipping on the oversized shirt Joel had given you the night before. You moved toward the door, careful not to make any noise as you approached the source of the voices.

You leaned closer to the doorway, straining to hear the conversation.

“I just want to make sure she’s okay,” Joel said, his voice tinged with concern.

Tommy sighed, the sound carrying the weight of the situation. “I saw her this morning,” he replied. “She was at that old cabin near the outskirts—the one we used to take Ellie to when she was younger.”

Joel was silent for a moment, likely processing the information. “And she’s alright? She didn’t try to come back?”

Tommy hesitated before answering. “She seemed... lost, Joel. But she didn’t make any move to come back to Jackson. She knows she’s not welcome here anymore, but she’s not exactly stable either.”

You felt a pang of guilt hearing this. Despite everything that had happened, part of you couldn’t help but feel sorry for Lori. She had lost so much, and now she was completely alone.

“Do you think she’ll stay out there?” Joel asked, his voice quieter now, almost as if he was speaking more to himself than to Tommy.

Tommy let out a weary breath. “I don’t know. She’s unpredictable. But as long as she’s not causing trouble in Jackson, we might be able to avoid any more problems.”

Joel didn’t respond right away, and you could feel the tension hanging in the air. You knew he was torn, worried about what Lori might do next but also reluctant to push her further away.

Tommy spoke up again, “I know you care about her- “

“Don’t” Joel cut in sharply, his voice rough with emotion. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "It's not about that, Tommy”

Tommy nodded, understanding the weight behind Joel's words. "You can't carry all this on your own. She made her choices, Joel. You can't save everyone."

Joel looked away; the strain evident in his clenched jaw. He wanted to protect everyone, to make sure no one else got hurt, but deep down, he knew Tommy was right. Lori was a wild card, and he couldn't control what she would do.

Tommy placed a hand on Joel's shoulder, his voice gentler now. "You’ve got something good here, Joel. Don’t let the past mess that up."

Joel sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he ran a hand through his hair. "I know, Tommy. I just… I don’t want her to come back and cause more trouble."

Tommy squeezed his shoulder, then released him, giving Joel space to process. "We'll keep an eye on her. If she comes back, we'll deal with it. But right now, you need to focus on what’s in front of you."

Joel finally nodded, the tension slowly easing out of his body. "Yeah, you're right."

But as the conversation faded, you stepped out from where you'd been standing, your heart heavy with the burden of what you'd overheard. You didn’t want to cause more strain between Joel and Tommy, but the mention of Lori staying out there worried you just as much as it did Joel.

you quietly stepped out from the shadows of the hallway, making your presence known. Tommy’s eyes flickered towards you, surprise momentarily crossing his face before it softened into something more understanding.

Joel noticed Tommy’s gaze shift and turned to see you standing there. His expression instantly softened, but there was a flicker of worry in his eyes, as if he was concerned about what you might have overheard.

Tommy offered a small nod in your direction, a silent acknowledgment that you were part of this now, whether Joel fully accepted it or not. "I’ll give you two a moment," Tommy said, his tone gentle as he glanced back at Joel.

"Thanks," Joel muttered, his eyes never leaving yours.

Tommy patted Joel on the back before turning to leave. As he passed by you, he gave you a reassuring smile, one that carried the weight of unspoken support. Then, with a final glance at Joel, Tommy walked out, leaving the two of you alone.

The room was quiet now, the only sound being the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth. Joel’s gaze was heavy on you, filled with concern and an emotion you couldn’t quite place. He took a tentative step towards you, his hand reaching out as if he was unsure whether he should touch you.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice low and full of meaning.

"Hey," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel took another step closer, his fingers brushing against your arm. "You heard us, didn’t you?"

You nodded; your heart still heavy with everything you’d overheard. "Yeah, I did."

Joel let out a slow breath, his hand sliding down your arm to take your hand in his. "I didn’t want you to worry."

You hesitated for a moment before stepping closer to Joel, letting him wrap his arms around you. His embrace was warm, but the tension in the air was undeniable.

After a few moments, you pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a serious expression. “Joel,” you began, your voice quiet but firm, “where’s this cabin Tommy was talking about? Where did Lori go?”

Joel’s expression tightened, and he sighed heavily. “It’s an old place, just outside Jackson. We used to use it as a lookout spot, but it’s been abandoned for a while. Lori… she’s been staying there since she left.”

You nodded, processing the information. “Is she okay?”

Joel rubbed the back of his neck, clearly conflicted. “Tommy saw her this morning. She’s alive. That’s what matters for now.”

You felt a knot forming in your stomach, a mix of guilt and concern churning inside you. “I feel like this is my fault,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel immediately shook his head, his grip on your arms tightening slightly. “Don’t you dare think that,” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “Lori made her own choices. You did what you had to do to protect yourself. This isn’t on you.”

“But she’s out there, alone,” you argued, the worry evident in your tone.

Joel’s expression softened, and he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing your cheeks. “You didn’t push her away. She wasn’t safe to be around, and you know that. We can’t save everyone, no matter how much we might want to.”

Joel’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, a mix of emotions he seemed to be wrestling with. He didn’t answer right away, as if he was carefully choosing his words. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but steady. “Lori… she was important, yeah. But not in the way you’re thinking.”

You felt your heart tighten in your chest, but you held his gaze, needing to hear the rest.

“She was a part of my life, a part of my past,” Joel continued, his hands still gently holding your face. “But that’s what it is—my past. We went through things together, things that bonded us in a way, but it was never like this.” His eyes softened as he looked at you, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. “What I feel for you… it’s different. It’s real, and it’s now.”

You searched his face for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was sincerity and something deeper—something that made your heart ache in a way that was both painful and comforting.

“Lori’s out there because of her choices, not because of anything you did,” Joel added, his thumbs brushing against your skin in a soothing motion. “And if she ever decides to come back, we’ll deal with it together. But right now, I’m here with you, and that’s what matters to me.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief mixed with lingering guilt. “I just… I don’t want to be the reason she’s hurting.”

Joel shook his head again, his expression firm. “You’re not. And you can’t carry that burden, okay? She left you out there to die.”

Joel’s words hit you like a punch to the gut, the reality of the situation sinking in even deeper. He wasn’t sugarcoating it—he was telling you the harsh truth you’d been trying to avoid. Lori had left you to fend for yourself and abandoned you in a way that had nearly cost you everything.

“She made her choices,” Joel continued, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “And those choices weren’t about you—they were about her. She’s got her demons, her reasons, but that doesn’t excuse what she did. You did nothing wrong by protecting yourself.”

You looked down, the guilt still gnawing at you, but Joel’s hand moved to your chin, gently lifting your face so you had to meet his eyes. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice soft but unwavering. “You’re here, with me, because you survived. Because you fought to live. Don’t let her take that away from you.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and Joel was quick to wipe it away with his thumb, his touch tender. “I know it’s hard,” he whispered. “I know it’s gonna take time to let go of the guilt. But you have to try, for your sake. For us.”

You nodded, feeling a little more of that heavy weight lift off your shoulders. Joel was right—you couldn’t let Lori’s choices define you or what you had now with him.

“I’m trying,” you said, your voice trembling. “I’m really trying.”

Joel’s expression softened even more, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, as if sealing a promise. “That’s all I ask,” he murmured against your lips.

You kissed him back, but this time his lips didn’t taste to a sweet fruit you crave on summer but like the bitter liquor you drank after a hard day as it a sip could take your demons away.

Joel pulled back from the kiss, his gaze lingering on yours with a mix of concern and affection. He could sense the turmoil still brewing inside you, even as you tried to put on a brave face. He sighed, brushing a hand through his hair, clearly reluctant to leave you like this.

“I’ve got to head out for patrol,” he said, his voice laced with reluctance. “But please… don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” His eyes searched yours, silently pleading with you to stay safe, to not let your guilt drive you to something reckless.

You nodded, giving him a small, tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be fine,” you assured him, but even as the words left your mouth, you felt the knot in your stomach tighten.

Joel hesitated, as if debating whether to push further, but eventually, he nodded. “I’ll see you later,” he said softly, his fingers lingering on your arm for a moment longer before he turned to leave.

You watched him go, your heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. As soon as the door closed behind him, you felt the quiet settle in, amplifying the thoughts swirling in your mind. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you needed to do something—something more than just waiting and hoping things would get better.

Your mind kept drifting back to Lori. Despite everything Joel had said, the guilt gnawed at you, relentless and unyielding. She was out there, alone, and even though you knew she had made her choices, you couldn’t help but feel responsible.

The more you thought about it, the more you realized you couldn’t just sit here and do nothing. You needed to see her, to talk to her, to try and make things right in whatever way you could. Maybe it was foolish, maybe it was reckless, but you felt like it was something you had to do.

You couldn’t bear the thought of a woman out there alone, just as you were not long time ago. You didn’t want anyone to go through that pain.

Without giving yourself time to second-guess the decision, you got up and quickly changed into clothes more suitable for the cold outside. You grabbed your jacket, slipping it on as you glanced around your small home, making sure you had everything you needed.

You knew Joel would be furious if he found out what you were planning, but you couldn’t let that stop you. This was something you had to do, for your own peace of mind. You left the house, pulling the door shut behind you, and started making your way toward the outskirts of Jackson, where you knew the old cabin Lori had been staying in was located.

As you walked, the snow crunched beneath your boots, and the chill in the air seemed to match the cold knot of anxiety in your chest. You couldn’t predict how Lori would react to seeing you again, but you knew you had to try. You had to at least make the effort, even if it was dangerous, even if it meant facing whatever might come next on your own.

The journey to the old cabin where Lori was staying felt longer than it actually was. Every step you took was weighed down by the uncertainty of what awaited you. The cold bit at your skin, the wind whispering through the trees like a warning, but you pressed on, driven by a need to confront what had been gnawing at you since she left.

The cabin finally came into view, tucked away in a secluded area surrounded by thick trees. It looked as worn and isolated as you remembered, with smoke lazily curling from the chimney, indicating that someone was inside. You hesitated at the edge of the clearing, taking a moment to gather your thoughts and calm the racing of your heart.

With a deep breath, you moved forward, your footsteps careful and deliberate as you approached the door. You paused, hand hovering over the wooden surface, the reality of what you were about to do sinking in. But there was no turning back now. You had come this far, and you needed to see it through.

You knocked lightly, the sound echoing in the stillness. For a moment, there was no response, and you wondered if she was even there. But then, you heard movement from inside—a shuffling of feet, the creak of old floorboards—and the door slowly opened.

Lori stood in the doorway, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw you. She looked different, more worn and tired than the last time you had seen her, but there was still a fierceness in her gaze, a hardness that hadn’t been there before. She didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you as if trying to decide whether to slam the door in your face or let you in.

“What are you doing here?” she finally asked, her voice flat, but with an edge of suspicion.

You swallowed, trying to steady your nerves. “I came to talk,” you replied, forcing yourself to meet her gaze.

“Can I come in?”Lori’s eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, you thought she might refuse. But then, with a sigh, she stepped aside, allowing you to enter. The cabin was as sparse as you remembered, with only the bare essentials scattered around—a small table, a few chairs, a cot in the corner, and the fire crackling in the hearth. It was warm inside, but the tension between you made the air feel heavy.

Lori closed the door behind you, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall, watching you with a guarded expression. “Does Joel know you’re here?” she asked, her tone laced with suspicion.

You shook your head. “No,” you admitted. “I came on my own.”

Lori raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical of your motives. “Why? What do you want?”

“I want to talk,” you said, your voice steady despite the nervousness you felt. “I wanted to see if… if there’s any way, we can work this out.”

Lori’s expression hardened at your words, and she shook her head almost immediately. “I’m not going back,” she said firmly. “There’s nothing for me there.”

“Lori, please,” you implored, taking a step closer. “You don’t have to do this alone. We can find a way to make it work. You don’t have to stay out here, isolated from everyone.”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head again. “You think it’s that simple?

“I don’t think it’s simple,” you replied, your voice softening. “But I don’t think it’s impossible either. We’ve all made mistakes. We’ve all done things we regret. But that doesn’t mean you have to keep punishing yourself.”

Lori’s gaze softened for just a moment, a flicker of something vulnerable passing through her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by that same hard look. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered, turning away from you and staring into the fire.

“I know you’re hurting,” you said, taking another step closer. “I know you feel like you’ve lost everything. But running away won’t fix it. It won’t make the pain go away.”

Lori’s shoulders slumped slightly, and for the first time since you arrived, she seemed to waver. She didn’t respond, just stood there, staring into the flames as if searching for answers in the flickering light.

“You don’t love him,” Lori said, her tone laced with bitterness. “I bet every time you see Joel, you wish he were the one you lost when this world went to shit.”

Her words hit you like a slap, the accusation stinging deep. You stood there, unable to respond immediately, the truth of her statement gnawing at you. Lori finally looked up; her eyes hard as they met yours.

“Am I wrong?” she pressed; her gaze unwavering.

You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words, but the guilt you had been carrying made it difficult. “It’s not like that,” you finally said, your voice shaky.

“Isn’t it?” Lori challenged, standing up and taking a step closer to you.

You felt your chest tighten, her words cutting deeper than you expected. “Lori, you don’t understand,” you started, but she cut you off.

“No, you don’t understand,” Lori spat, her voice rising. “You’re just using him to fill the void left by whoever you lost. You’re not in love with him—you’re in love with a memory.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. You could feel your resolve crumbling, the truth in her accusation tearing at you. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t entirely true. Yes, you had lost someone, and yes, the pain of that loss was still with you. But what you felt for Joel was real.

She took a step closer, her eyes fierce and unyielding. “I know it because I had my Joel before,” she continued, her voice breaking slightly as she spoke. “I lost him when the outbreak happened, and I spent years crying over him, wishing he was still here.”

You could see the pain in her eyes, the same pain that had haunted you for so long. “And then Joel came along,” Lori went on, her voice now softer, tinged with regret. “I wanted Joel to be my lover because I felt broken, and he was the only one who made me feel whole again. But it wasn’t fair to him, and it wasn’t fair to me.”

You felt a pang of empathy for Lori, understanding now that you weren’t the only one struggling with feelings of loss and confusion. But that didn’t make her words any easier to hear.

“Lori,” you began, your voice trembling as you tried to find the right words, “I know what you’re saying. I know I’ve been holding on to the past, and maybe I haven’t been fair to Joel. But what I feel for him...I love him and he loves me.”

Lori's expression shifted, the hardness in her eyes softening ever so slightly. You could see the conflict within her, the struggle between the pain she carried and the understanding she was trying to find.

"The world is too shitty for us to be fighting over a man," you continued, your voice steadier now. “We’ve all lost so much, and I know you’re hurting too. But this... this isn’t worth tearing each other apart.”

Lori looked away, her gaze falling to the floor as she let out a long breath. “You’re right,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’ve been through too much to waste our energy on this.”

There was a long silence between you, the tension slowly ebbing away as the weight of your shared pain settled between you. Finally, Lori looked up, her eyes meeting yours with a mixture of resignation and acceptance.

“I just... I just wanted to feel like I mattered again,” she said, her voice breaking. “And Joel... he made me feel that way, even if it was just for a little while.”

You took a step closer, your heart aching for her. “You do matter, Lori. To Joel, to Jackson. But you can’t find your worth in someone else. You have to find it in yourself.”

Lori nodded slowly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I know,” she whispered. “I know that now.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the cabin. It wasn’t forgiveness, not completely, but it was a step towards understanding—a fragile truce in a world that had taken so much from both of you.

“Come back to Jackson,” you said gently. “It doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to be alone.”

You looked at Lori, seeing the pain and confusion in her eyes. The firelight cast flickering shadows across her face, highlighting the raw vulnerability she was trying to hide. Her question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of what had happened between you.

“I know what you did,” you said quietly, your voice steady despite the memories that threatened to surface. “And I won’t pretend it didn’t hurt, or that I wasn’t scared. But I also know that this world has twisted all of us in ways we never could have imagined.”

Lori’s gaze dropped to the floor, shame and regret evident in her expression. You took a deep breath, knowing that what you were about to say would expose a part of yourself you usually kept hidden.

“I’m doing this because I don’t want to be the kind of person this world wants me to be. I don’t want to be consumed by hate, or let fear rule my decisions. And I don’t want you to be that person either. We’ve lost so much, Lori. But we don’t have to lose ourselves.”

She looked up at you, her eyes wide and searching, as if she was trying to understand why you would offer her this chance at redemption. “But how can you forgive me?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “After everything I did... how can you just let it go?”

“I’m not letting that go,” you replied, your voice soft but firm. “But we keep moving forward. We can’t change what’s happened, but we can choose what we do next. I’m choosing to believe that there’s still good in you, and that you deserve a chance to find it again.”

Lori blinked back tears, her tough exterior cracking just enough for you to see the pain and guilt she carried. “I don’t know if I can,” she admitted, her voice barely audible.

“You can,” you assured her. “It won’t be easy, but you can. And you won’t have to do it alone. Come back to Jackson. We can figure it out together.”

Lori hesitated, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. “And what about Joel?” she asked, her voice laced with fear. “What if he doesn’t want me back?”

“Joel’s angry,” you said honestly, “but he’s also someone who cares deeply about the people in his life. If you show him that you’re willing to change, I think he’ll find a way to understand. But you have to be willing to take that first step. Both of you will.” You paused, “Not romantically anymore, but as people living in the same place.”

Lori’s gaze lingered on you for a long moment, as if weighing your words. Finally, she nodded, a small, tentative movement that signaled her agreement. “I’ll try,” she whispered, her voice shaky but resolute. “I don’t know if I can do it, but I’ll try.”

“That’s all anyone can ask,” you said, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Let’s go back to Jackson. Together.”

“They voted me out” she said.

Your smile faltered as Lori’s words sank in. The realization of what that meant hit you like a punch to the gut. Being voted out of Jackson was more than just being asked to leave—it was a declaration that the community no longer trusted you, no longer believed you were safe to have around.

“They… they really did that?” you asked, your voice a mix of disbelief and sadness.

Lori nodded, her expression a mixture of bitterness and resignation. “Yeah. After what happened with you, and… everything else. They decided I wasn’t worth the risk.”

You could see the hurt in her eyes, the pain of being rejected by the only place that could offer any semblance of safety. And despite everything she had done, a part of you couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.

“Lori, I’m so sorry,” you said softly, the weight of her situation pressing down on you. “But maybe… maybe we can talk to them. I can vouch for you. Tell them you’re willing to make things right.”

Lori shook her head, a sad smile on her lips. “It’s too late for that. Even if you could convince Joel, the rest of them won’t listen. They’ve made up their minds.”

You didn’t know what to say. The idea of leaving someone out there alone, especially someone who had been part of your community, felt wrong on every level. But you also knew how fragile trust was in this world, and how quickly it could be lost.

“Then what are you going to do?” you asked, your voice laced with concern.

“I don’t know,” Lori admitted, her shoulders slumping as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Maybe find another group, if I can. Or just… survive on my own. It’s not like I have a lot of options.”

You took a deep breath, your mind racing for any solution that might keep Lori safe. "Come with me," you suggested, your voice urgent. "If they see us together, maybe it'll be different. Maybe they’ll understand, see that you’re willing to make things right."

Lori looked at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and doubt. For a moment, she seemed to consider it, her gaze flickering with a faint hope. But then she shook her head, her expression hardening as she looked away.

"No," she said firmly. "I can’t do that. If I come back with you, they’ll just see it as me hiding behind you. It’ll look like I’m trying to manipulate my way back in, and that’s not going to work. They’ll never trust me again, not unless I earn it on my own terms."

Her words stung because you knew she was right. Trust was fragile, especially in a world where survival depended on it. The community needed to see that she was willing to stand on her own, to prove herself without relying on someone else’s influence.

"But what if something happens to you out here?" you pressed, the thought of leaving her alone gnawing at you. "You’re safer in Jackson, with people who can help you."

Lori smiled sadly, a wistful look in her eyes. "I know the risks. But if I’m ever going to have a chance at getting back what I’ve lost, I have to do it my way. I’d rather have their approval than their pity."

You could see the determination in her eyes, the fierce independence that had kept her alive for so long. It was the same trait that made her both strong and dangerous, and you realized that there was nothing you could say to change her mind.

"Just… be careful, okay?" you said finally, your voice thick with emotion. "I don’t want to see you get hurt."

"I will," Lori promised, her voice softening as she met your gaze. "And thank you, for coming out here. For trying."

You nodded, a heavy sense of resignation settling in your chest. There was nothing more you could do, no more words that could bridge the gap between the two of you. All you could do was hope that Lori would find her way, that she would survive long enough to prove herself.

With one last look at her, you turned and made your way back to Jackson, the weight of the conversation lingering heavily on your shoulders. You knew that this wasn’t the end, not for Lori, not for you. But for now, all you could do was return to the life you had built, even as the echoes of the past threatened to pull you back.

As you walked away, Lori stood at the entrance of the cabin, watching you go, her expression unreadable. The distance between you grew, both physical and emotional until she was just a figure in the distance, a reminder of the choices that had brought you both to this point.

You arrived back in Jackson, the familiar sight of the town coming into view as you crossed the threshold. It was quiet, the usual hustle and bustle of the day beginning to wind down as the sun dipped lower in the sky. But as you approached the center of town, you could hear raised voices—Joel's voice, loud and angry, cutting through the stillness.

Following the sound, you found Joel near the gates, his posture tense as he argued with a couple of men who had been on watch duty. His face was a mask of frustration and fury, his fists clenched at his sides as he spoke.

"What the hell were you thinking, letting her go out on her own?" Joel barked, his voice carrying an edge that sent a chill down your spine. "You know damn well how dangerous it is out there!"

One of the men, looking both intimidated and defensive, tried to respond. "We didn’t think she’d go far, Joel. She’s handled herself before—"

"That’s not the point!" Joel snapped, cutting him off. "It’s not about whether she can handle herself. It’s about the fact that you let her go out there alone without telling anyone!"

The other man, clearly trying to diffuse the situation, spoke up. "We’re sorry, Joel. We didn’t think—"

"No, you didn’t," Joel growled, his anger barely contained. "And if something had happened to her…"

The rest of his sentence trailed off as his gaze shifted, and he finally noticed you standing there. His eyes narrowed, but unlike usual, his expression didn’t soften. Instead, there was a mix of relief, anger, and something else you couldn’t quite place.

"Where the hell were you?" he demanded, his voice low and rough as he took a few steps toward you.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the weight of his anger and concern made the words stick in your throat.

"I was…" you hesitated, knowing how furious he would be when he found out. "I went to see Lori."

Joel's eyes widened in shock, and then they darkened with anger. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing slightly as he tried to process what you’d just said.

"You what?" he finally said, his voice dangerously quiet. "You went to see her? After everything that happened?"

You nodded, feeling small under the intensity of his gaze. "I had to. I needed to talk to her, to make sure she was okay. She’s out there, Joel, and she’s all alone."

Joel’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he was struggling to keep his anger in check. "And you thought it was a good idea to go out there by yourself? Without telling anyone?"

"I knew you’d try to stop me," you admitted, your voice wavering. "I thought if I went alone, I could handle it."

"Handle it?" Joel echoed, incredulous. "Do you have any idea how reckless that was? What if something had happened to you? What if she had—"

"She didn’t," you interrupted, your voice firmer now. "I’m fine, Joel. I’m here, and nothing happened."

"But it could have," Joel shot back, his voice thick with frustration. "You can’t just go off like that, not when there’s so much at stake."

You could see the fear behind his anger, the desperation in his eyes as he looked at you. He was scared, not just for you but for everything you represented in his life. And that fear was fueling his anger now, making him lash out because he didn’t know how else to deal with it.

"I’m sorry," you said softly, stepping closer to him. "I didn’t mean to worry you. I just… I couldn’t leave things the way they were."

Joel sighed, his shoulders slumping as some of the tension drained out of him. He looked at you, his expression torn between anger and something softer, something more vulnerable.

"I can’t lose you," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You won’t, but you need to stop being an asshole to everyone” you said.

 Joel blinked, taken aback by your bluntness. He opened his mouth to respond but closed it just as quickly, clearly struggling with his emotions. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away.

“I know I’ve been hard on everyone,” he admitted, his voice low. “But it’s just... I’ve been so damn scared of losing you, of losing anyone else. It’s like every time I think about what could happen, I—”

“—you push people away,” you finished for him, your tone gentle but firm. “But, Joel, you can’t protect everyone by building walls around yourself. You have to let people in, let them help you. We’re all in this together, whether you like it or not.”

“And you need to stop being weak” he said, as if he had found the words to get back at you for something.

The words cut deep, and you felt a surge of anger and hurt rise within you. You took a step back, your hands clenching into fists at your sides as you struggled to keep your emotions in check.

“Stop being weak?” you echoed, your voice trembling slightly. “Joel, I’m trying my best to handle everything that’s been thrown at me. I’m not perfect, but I’m not weak.”

"Being weak got your boyfriend killed, right?" Joel’s words echoed in your mind, the pain of them mingling with the pain of your past. It felt like a knife twisting deeper into a wound that had never fully healed.

“Don’t you dare use that against me,” you said, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and sadness. “I’ve been trying my hardest to move forward, to deal with everything that’s happened. You can’t just throw my past in my face like that.”

Joel’s face softened, his eyes wide with regret as he saw the effect of his words. He reached out as if to bridge the gap you’d created, but you took another step back, shaking your head.

“No,” you said firmly. “You can’t do that. You can’t keep using my pain to justify your own frustrations. We both have our struggles, and we both have to face them. But that doesn’t mean we get to hurt each other.”

Joel’s shoulders slumped, his anger giving way to a weary sadness. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Just stop,” you interrupted, holding up a hand. "Are this how things are going to be between us?" You asked, no payback, just a tense voice.

"What do you mean?" he asked, regretting lacing on his voice.

"Every time I do something you don't like you will throw something at me?"

Joel looked away, his gaze shifting to the floor as if searching for the right words. The weight of your question seemed to hit him hard, and he struggled to meet your eyes again.

“No,” he finally said, his voice low. “That’s not what I want. I don’t want to hurt you. I just... I’m dealing with a lot, and sometimes I don’t know how to handle it. But that’s no excuse for pushing you away or being unfair.”

You could see the conflict in his eyes, the internal battle between his pain and his desire to make things right. It was clear he was struggling, and for a moment, you felt a pang of sympathy despite the hurt he’d caused.

“Then we need to figure out a way to communicate better,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “If we keep doing this, hurting each other, it’s never going to work. We need to be able to talk without tearing each other down.”

Joel nodded slowly, his expression softening. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll work on it. I just… I need to do better. For us.”

“Joel, I… I think we need to take a step back,” you began, your voice gentle but firm. “We can’t be together as a couple right now. Not until we’ve both done some healing—on our own.”

Joel’s brow furrowed, and you could see the hurt flicker across his face. “What are you saying?” he asked quietly, his grip on your arms loosening.

“I’m saying that we’ve both been through so much, and we’re still carrying all that pain,” you explained. “It’s not fair to either of us to try to make this work when we’re still so broken inside. We’re just going to end up hurting each other more.”

Joel looked down; his jaw clenched tightly. He was silent for a moment, clearly struggling with your words.

Joel’s silence stretched, and you could see the emotions warring within him. Finally, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of sadness and resignation.

“I get it,” he said quietly, his voice rough. “I do. It’s just… hard to accept. I don’t want to lose you, but I understand if we need to take a step back.”

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and sadness. “I don’t want to lose you either, Joel. That’s why we need to do this. We need to heal separately so we can be better for each other, if we decide to come back together.”

Joel sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ll try to do better. For myself, for us. And… I’ll see the therapist. Maybe it’ll help.”

“I think it will,” you said softly, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s a good step. For both of us.”

Joel nodded, his expression softening a bit. “Okay. I’ll give it a shot. But just know… I care about you. A lot.”

“I care about you too,” you replied, your voice wavering slightly. “And that’s why we need to do this. We need to take care of ourselves first.”

With a final, heavy sigh, Joel gave you a small, bittersweet smile. “Alright. I’ll see you around then.”

You took a step closer, closing the distance between you, and reached out to gently touch his face. His eyes met yours, filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

Before either of you could say more, you leaned in and pressed a soft, reassuring kiss to his lips. It was a gentle, tender gesture, a promise that despite the distance you both needed, the feelings between you remained.

Joel’s eyes closed momentarily as he returned the kiss, his grip on your shoulders tightening just enough to convey his emotions. When you finally pulled away, you could see the depth of his feelings in his gaze—a silent acknowledgment that while things were changing, the connection between you was still strong.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice barely a whisper. “For understanding. For everything.”

You gave him a small, encouraging smile. “We’re both doing our best. That’s all we can ask of each other.”

Joel nodded, his expression softening with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. “I’ll see you around,” he repeated, a bit more firmly this time.

With one last, lingering look, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with a heavy heart and a sense of resolve. You knew it would be hard, but you were hopeful that with time and effort, both of you could find the healing you needed.

++

When Joel woke up, the world seemed disjointed, fragmented. He was greeted with concerned faces, but the familiarity of their voices felt distant. As the days passed, it became clear that Joel had lost significant portions of his memory. He struggled to piece together the events leading up to the ambush, and his sense of self was clouded by confusion.

The emotional impact was profound. Joel had always been someone who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, but now he found himself grappling with an added burden: the loss of his own past. He could remember fragments—snippets of conversations, fleeting images—but the continuity of his life felt like a puzzle with missing pieces.

In the midst of this struggle, Joel faced the raw, unfiltered emotions that had been buried under layers of anger and pain. Without the anchor of his memories, he found himself confronted with feelings he had tried to suppress or ignore. The realization of what he had lost, both in terms of his past and his relationship with you, hit him with an intensity that left him vulnerable and exposed.

The days were a whirlwind of emotions for Joel. He felt anger at his own helplessness, frustration at not being able to remember crucial parts of his life, and deep sadness for the connections that seemed to have slipped away from him. His interactions with you were strained. He knew you were important, but the specifics of why were obscured by the fog of his memory.

Joel’s struggle was evident in the way he reached out for fragments of normalcy. He would sit quietly in the corners of the community, trying to piece together his past by observing others. Conversations with you were tinged with an awkward formality, as if he were trying to bridge a gap that couldn’t be fully crossed.

As time went on, Joel began to lean on you more, searching for comfort in your presence. Your patience and support became a lifeline for him, a way to ground himself amidst the confusion. He struggled to reconcile the past he could no longer fully recall with the present he was living through.

You, too, found yourself grappling with the new reality. Seeing Joel in such a fragile state was heartbreaking. You wanted to help him, to be there for him, but the dynamics of your relationship had shifted. The boundaries you had set were still in place, but the lines between them were now blurred by Joel’s struggle and your own feelings of helplessness.

Despite the pain and frustration, there were moments of clarity and connection. The more Joel leaned on you, the more he began to remember the warmth of your presence, the comfort of your touch. Though the memories of your shared past were fragmented, the emotional bond between you was something that transcended the gaps in his recollection.

++

Joel’s journey through therapy was arduous. Each session was a test of patience and introspection, peeling back layers of his past and the wounds he had kept buried. The process was slow, and the progress often seemed incremental. He confronted painful memories and learned to navigate his emotions, guided by the therapist’s steady support.

Despite the difficulties, Joel showed up for each session, driven by a desire to heal and a growing understanding of the importance of addressing his issues. He learned to articulate his feelings and confront his fears. The therapy sessions began to shift something within him—a deeper recognition of his own vulnerabilities and a burgeoning sense of hope.

In the midst of this, Joel's thoughts frequently returned to Lori and you. He knew that if there was any chance of reconciliation or understanding, it had to start with bringing Lori back into the fold. His own healing process had taught him the value of second chances and the importance of confronting unresolved issues.

One crisp morning, after several weeks of therapy, Joel set out to find Lori. He had been keeping tabs on her location, and while he understood the risks, he was determined to make things right. When he finally located her, she was in a makeshift camp on the outskirts of a small, struggling community.

“Lori,” Joel said, his voice carrying concern as he approached her. “We need to talk.”

Lori looked up; her expression wary but curious. “Joel,” she said, her voice tinged with both surprise and apprehension. “What are you doing here?”

Joel took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I’ve been working on myself. Trying to make things right. And I think... I think it’s time for us to address what happened between us.”

Lori’s eyes softened slightly, though she remained guarded. “And what does that mean?”

“It means,” Joel said, taking a step closer, “that I want to try and bring you back to Jackson. There’s a chance for reconciliation, but it starts with making amends.”

Lori studied him for a long moment, the hesitation clear in her eyes. “Why would I go back there? They’ve already decided I’m not welcome.”

Joel nodded, understanding her reluctance. “They might have voted you out, but people change. And I think there’s a chance for you to make things right. I can vouch for you. I’ve been through a lot of my own healing, and I believe in second chances.” He paused “And I believe on her” he said, referring to you.

Lori’s gaze softened further, the walls she had built around herself starting to crumble. “And what if they don’t want me back? What if they still see me as a threat?”

“We won’t know until we try,” Joel said firmly. “I believe in giving people a chance, and I’m willing to stand up for you.”

After a long pause, Lori finally nodded. “Alright. If you’re willing to vouch for me, I’ll give it a try.”

Joel offered a small, hopeful smile. “Okay. Let’s head back to Jackson.”

The journey back was quiet but filled with a tentative sense of hope. When they arrived, the tension was palpable. The community was wary, and the reception was far from warm. However, Joel’s presence and the commitment he showed in standing by Lori’s side made a difference.

Lori had to prove herself, and the community had to come to terms with her return. Not only because she was a threat to you in a moment. But the fact that she was given a chance was a testament to the power of redemption and the possibility of new beginnings.

Joel’s own healing continued as well, bolstered by his actions and the steps he took to make amends. His relationship with you remained on a path of gradual recovery. While there were still challenges to face, the progress made was a testament to the strength of the bonds that held the community together and the resilience of the individuals within it.

In the end, Joel’s journey was a reflection of the broader struggles and triumphs of a world striving to rebuild itself, one step at a time.

while you were in the infirmary tending to a few minor injuries and organizing supplies, Joel walked in with Lori at his side. The atmosphere was quiet, the usual hum of activity in the infirmary providing a backdrop to the scene.

You looked up from your work, your hands wiping off the last traces of blood from a bandage, and saw Joel approaching. A lump formed in your throat as you took in the sight of Lori walking behind him, her posture guarded but resolute.

“Hey,” Joel said, his voice carrying a note of cautious optimism. “I brought Lori here for you to check on her. She’s been having some issues with her leg.”

You nodded, trying to mask your apprehension. “You’re back” you said, feeling a lump forming on your throat.

Lori nodded as she moved towards the examination table with a hesitant but determined stride. She glanced at you, her expression a mixture of anxiety and hope.

you greeted her softly, trying to sound as neutral as possible. “How’s it been? What happened to your leg?”

Lori took a deep breath, her voice steady despite the uncertainty. “It’s been a rough few days. Just a scrape that’s gotten worse.”

As you began to examine her leg, you noticed Joel standing nearby. You could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on you, anxiety mingled with a sense of unease as you tried to focus on the task at hand.

“Looks like it’s inflamed,” you said, carefully cleaning the wound. “I’ll need to get some antibiotics on it and make sure it doesn’t get any worse.”

“Thank you,” Lori said quietly, her eyes meeting yours. “I know it’s been complicated between us.”

You offered her a small, strained smile. “It’s okay. We all have our struggles. I’m just glad to see you making an effort.”

Joel watched the interaction closely, his expression a mixture of concern and relief. He understood the complexities of the situation and was grateful for the chance to make things right.

As you finished treating Lori’s leg, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of discomfort. The process of healing was never straightforward, and the emotional weight of the past few weeks lingered in the air.

“Thanks,” Lori said, standing up with a tentative smile. “I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” you replied, trying to sound as sincere as possible. “If you need anything else, just let me know.”

Joel gave you a small, appreciative nod. “Thanks for taking care of her.”

You watched as Joel and Lori left the infirmary, a mix of emotions swirling within you. The path to reconciliation and healing was long and often challenging, but moments like these—where you faced the past and worked towards a better future—were steps in the right direction.

You hoped that in time, things would settle into a new normal. For now, you focused on the present, knowing that the journey of healing for everyone involved was far from over.

As you were lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t hear the steps approaching.

Joel walked back into the infirmary a few minutes after leaving with Lori. His demeanor was different now, less tentative and more determined. He approached with a sense of urgency, his expression revealing his frustration and a touch of exasperation.

You looked up from the stack of bandages you had been organizing, noticing the intensity in his gaze. The uncertainty and lingering doubts you had been grappling with seemed to settle around you, making your heart race a little faster.

“Hey,” Joel said, his voice cutting through the quiet of the infirmary.

“Hey” you said, avoiding his gaze. “I see Lori is back” you added, not wanting to sound bitter because you weren’t. You could see everyone was trying to make better version of themselves.

Her, Joel and you.

There were broken versions hoping to be fixed.

Joel’s eyes followed your gaze to the door, still looking a bit out of place in the infirmary. He took a deep breath before speaking, clearly trying to manage his frustration.

“Yeah,” he said, his tone carrying a tint of relief and irritation. “She’s back. I know it’s been a lot to take in, and I get that you’re unsure- “

“I’m not.” You said, voice trembling even when you felt sure about your feelings towards Joel.

Joel's expression softened as he heard the tremble in your voice. He stepped closer, his frustration giving way to concern and understanding. “Then what is it?” he asked gently, searching your eyes for the answer. “You seem sad today.”

Joel’s frustration was evident as he took a deep breath, trying to keep his tone even. “I’m tired of this,” he began, his voice steady but laced with underlying frustration. “I’m tired of you doubting what we have, of you questioning whether or not it’s worth it. I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one trying to make things work.”

Your gaze fell to the floor, feeling the weight of his words. You had been struggling with your own fears and uncertainties, and it was clear that Joel’s patience was wearing thin.

“Joel, it’s not that I don’t care,” you said quietly. “It’s just—”

“Just what?” Joel interrupted, his voice rising slightly. “Just that you’re scared? I get it, I really do. But we can’t keep going in circles like this. I’m here, and I’m trying. But if you’re not on the same page, if you’re not willing to fight for us, then what are we even doing?”

His words hit hard, but they also struck a chord of truth. You had been hesitant, afraid of getting hurt again, and it was affecting your ability to fully commit to the relationship. Joel’s frustration was palpable, and you knew that this conversation was long overdue.

“What else I have to do to prove that you’re it for me?” he asked.

Joel’s question hung in the air, heavy with emotion. You could see the intensity in his eyes, the way his frustration was mixed with desperation. He had been fighting for you, for the relationship, and now he was asking for something in return—your commitment, your belief in what you two could be together.

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on you. “I know you’ve been trying, Joel,” you began, your voice soft but steady. “And I see that. I see how much you care, how much you’re willing to do for us. But… it’s not just about proving something to me. It’s about proving it to yourself too.”

Joel’s brow furrowed, his gaze never leaving yours. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… we both have our scars,” you continued, your voice trembling slightly. “And I’m scared, yes. But I think you’re scared too. Scared of getting hurt again, of losing someone else. And that’s why we keep going in circles, why it’s so hard to fully trust in this.”

Joel’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt. You could see that he was listening, really listening, to what you were saying. He took a deep breath, his gaze steady and intense. Walking towards you, he cupped your face in his hands “I could hit my head a hundred times,” he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of his emotions, “and I would come back to you each time.”

You looked up at him, a mix of surprise and emotion swirling in your eyes. His words cut through the uncertainty you’d been feeling, touching on something deeper and more enduring than just the day-to-day struggles.

“Why?” you asked softly, searching his face for the meaning behind his declaration. “Why would you keep coming back?”

Joel’s expression softened, and he stepped closer, his hand gently resting on your arm. “Because you matter to me more than anything,” he said, his voice earnest. “I know we’ve got a lot to work through, and it’s not going to be easy. But every time I think of us, it’s like everything else falls away. It’s always you.”

You swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat. “And you?”

Joel nodded, a small, sincere smile on his lips. “And me. Even when things get tough, or when I mess up, it’s you I want to be with. It’s you I want to make things right with.”

The sincerity in his words struck a chord within you. You could see how deeply he cared, despite the flaws and the struggles that had come between you. It was a reminder that, despite the difficulties, there was something real and lasting between you.

“I’m willing to try,” you said, your voice trembling slightly but full of conviction.

Joel’s smile widened, a look of relief and affection shining in his eyes. “Deal,” he said softly, pulling you into a gentle embrace.

"How is therapy going?" you asked.

Joel shifted slightly in your embrace before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His expression was a mix of vulnerability and hope. “It’s… it’s going. Not easy, but I’m trying to face things I’ve been avoiding for a long time.”

You nodded, giving him an encouraging smile. “That’s good to hear. It’s important to confront those things.”

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, it’s more than just talking about it. It’s about figuring out how to move forward. I’m learning that it’s not just about fixing what’s broken, but understanding why it was broken in the first place.”

“Sounds like you’re making progress,” you said gently.

Joel’s eyes softened as he looked at you. “It is. And having support—like you—makes it a bit easier. I appreciate you being here, even when things get complicated.”

You gave him a warm smile.

Joel's gaze lingered on yours, a mix of determination and affection in his eyes. Without a word, he gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. The warmth of his touch conveyed everything he couldn’t put into words.

He leaned in, his lips finding yours in a tender, lingering kiss. It was soft and deliberate, a silent promise of his commitment and his feelings for you. The kiss was more than just an expression of love; it was an affirmation of the bond you both shared, a way of showing that despite the challenges, there was still something deeply real and enduring between you.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes searched yours with a mixture of vulnerability and hope. “I just needed you to know that,” he said quietly. “You’re important to me, and I’m not giving up on us.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of reassurance wash over you.

“Let me love you” he whispered on your lips.

When Joel whispered those words, so close that his breath mingled with yours, it sent a shiver down your spine. His vulnerability, laid bare in that simple plea, tugged at something deep inside you. For so long, you had both danced around your fears and uncertainties, but here he was, asking for a chance to break through all of that.

Your heart swelled with a mixture of emotions—relief, love, and a lingering hint of that old fear. But as you looked into Joel’s eyes, filled with a hope that you hadn’t seen in him before, you felt something inside your shift.

You leaned in, closing the small gap between you, and let your lips meet his in a gentle, lingering kiss.

rushed and desperate, as a silent promise between the two of you.

But then, you pulled back just slightly, enough to catch your breath and regain some sense of where you were. “We are in the infirmary, Joel,” you whispered against his lips, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Your words were a gentle reminder of the boundaries you still needed to respect, even in the midst of everything you were feeling.

Joel let out a small, breathless laugh, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to gather himself. “Yeah, I know,” he murmured, his voice laced with both amusement and a lingering desire. “But I needed some kisses from my favorite lady.

You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. “Well, your favorite lady is very flattered,” you replied, your tone teasing as you brushed a hand through his hair. “But I think she might need to get back to work before someone walks in on us.”

Joel sighed dramatically, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you get back to your work,” he said, though he didn’t make a move to step away just yet. Instead, he pressed one last, quick kiss to your lips, as if he couldn’t resist.

“See you later, then,” he murmured, his voice filled with affection and something deeper, something that spoke to the connection you were slowly rebuilding.

“Later,” you echoed, your smile lingering as he finally released you and took a step back, his eyes still warm with unspoken feelings.

As you returned to your work, your thoughts kept drifting back to Joel. The way he had kissed you, the way he had spoken to you—it was clear that he was committed to making things work between you two. And deep down, you knew that you were too. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but you were both willing to walk it together.

Time passed quickly as you immersed yourself in your tasks, trying to push away the thoughts of what had just transpired. But the memory of his touch, his words, lingered with you, making your heart ache in a bittersweet way.

Later, as the day began to wind down and the infirmary grew quieter, you found yourself thinking about what the evening might bring. Would Joel come by to see you again? Would you two have a chance to talk more, to start building something real and solid between you?

Just as you were finishing up for the day, you heard the door to the infirmary creak open. You turned, half-expecting it to be another patient or one of the other medics. But when you saw Joel standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe with a soft smile on his face, your heart skipped a beat.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and warm. “Thought I’d come by and see if you needed anything.”

You smiled, feeling a familiar flutter in your chest. “Hey yourself,” you replied, wiping your hands on your scrubs. “I was just finishing up.”

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Good timing, then,” he said with a slight grin. “Mind if I walk you home?”

Your smile widened, and the idea of spending more time with him made your heart swell with affection. “I’d like that,” you said softly.

As you and Joel walked through the quiet streets of Jackson, the cool evening air wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. The sounds of the community winding down for the night were all around—distant chatter, the occasional clatter of dishes being put away, the soft hum of generators. It was a rare moment of peace in a world that had seen so much chaos.

Joel walked close beside you, his presence grounding and reassuring. Neither of you felt the need to fill the silence with words; the simple act of being together was enough. Yet, the unspoken connection between you was palpable, a gentle reminder of the kiss you had shared earlier and the emotions that had been laid bare.

As you approached your house, your home came into view. The warm glow of the lantern inside spilled out through the window, casting a welcoming light on the porch. You hesitated for a moment, not quite ready for the evening to end, and it seemed Joel felt the same.

He stopped a few steps away from the door, turning to face you fully. His expression was softer now, the earlier intensity replaced by a quiet tenderness that made your heart ache in the best possible way.

“I know things have been… complicated,” Joel began, his voice low and earnest. “But I meant what I said earlier. I’m not giving up on us. We’ve both been through hell, but I want to make this work. I want us to work.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, his words hitting you with a depth of sincerity that left you momentarily speechless. But you knew he was right—this was something worth fighting for, and you were ready to face whatever challenges came your way.

“I want that too, Joel,” you finally said, your voice soft but steady. “We’ve been through so much already. We can get through this too. Together.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he reached out to gently take your hand in his. His touch was warm and comforting, and you felt a sense of calm wash over you as your fingers intertwined.

For a moment, the two of you stood there, holding hands in the soft glow of the lantern light, the world around you fading into the background. It was just the two of you, standing at the edge of something new and uncertain, but also something beautiful.

Finally, Joel broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I… come in?”

You looked up at him, your heart racing as you considered the question.

With a small, hopeful smile, you nodded. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Together, you walked up the steps and into the house, the door closing softly behind you. Inside, the room was warm and inviting, a small oasis in a world that had taken so much from both of you. As you stood there, taking in the familiarity of your surroundings, you felt a sense of peace settle over you.

Joel didn’t say anything as he gently pulled you into a kiss. Joel’s arms wrapped around you with a gentle yet firm grip, pulling you closer as his lips met yours. The kiss was tender, filled with all the unspoken emotions that had been building between you—the longing, the pain, the hope. It was a moment of pure connection, where words weren’t necessary because everything you needed to say was conveyed in the way he held you, in the way his lips moved against yours.

As the kiss deepened, you could feel the weight of the world outside fading away, leaving only the two of you in this quiet, stolen moment. Joel’s hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair, anchoring you to him. The way he kissed you was both gentle and possessive, as if he were afraid to let go, as if he needed this as much as you did.

“Need to…” He whispered against your lips, sounding almost desperate, running his hands down your waist to your ass.

Your breath became heave, feeling his hands roaming all your body as if you were the most precious treasure for him. Joel started leaving small kisses on your neck, as his hand travelled down the curve of one of your hips, gripping your skin all over the material of your clothes. He whispered your name against your skin, leaving goosebumps traced on it.

Your arched your back, moaning his name, making Joel go crazy. He grabbed you by your hips, effortlessly lifting you up to sit on the edge of your table, with him standing between your spread legs. Kissing Joel for real felt like driving in a dead-end street, like crushing your bones against the waves of the sea just to be brought back to life. And he also felt like the sun at the end of summer burning deep down your legs being carried out by passion and desire.

A gasp escaped from your throat, Joel’s mouth moving over yours in slow motion, savoring the taste of your lips to never forget it again. Your kisses felt like eating the sweetest fruit in summer.

as your legs spread, giving him closer access to you. As the kiss deepened, the feeling wasn’t just magical, but it was hot, with his tongue against yours. There wasn’t a proper way to get closer, but you wanted him closer, you wanted to feel him on top of you.

Joel slowly detached his lips from yours, looking flustered at the intensity of the kiss you had just shared.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

You quickly nodded, as you traced your hands on his hair down to his neck and rapidly connected your lips with him. This time it was even hotter, now there was desperation in the touch.

The air in the room grew heavier, filled with the sound of small whines slipping from your lips as he travelled his way down your neck with his lips, you felt like his own canvas being delicately traced by his lips brushing over your skin, planting tattooed kisses on his way.

He was capturing every second of this in his mind, the taste of your mouth, the softness of your skin, and the sound falling out from your lips, as he didn't stop taking every visible inch of your skin in his mouth. Every touch sent shivers straight down where you wanted him the most.

A slow moan escaped from your lips as he hit the hot skin of your neck.

"Everything's f-" You shut him down by furiously attaching his lips back to yours. His hand left the back of your neck, traveling down your chest as he remembered how every inch of your body felt under his touch and he smiled against your lips. The ache between your tights intensified at that, all while his hand pushed under your skirt and brushed where you wanted to be touched the most.

"Oh" you breathed.

Joel stopped kissing you for a moment to look at you, and he had a small smirk on his lips because he knew what he was doing. Leading not only by the desire but because of the mixed feelings he had for you.

And at that moment, breathing heavily against each other's faces, he kissed you again, and this time he went for it. He grabbed your bottom lip between his teeth as his hand rose higher on your tight.

He grabbed your waist, pulling you closer in a quick motion, your hand on your back holding your tight. You fell against his chest, falling apart under his gaze and touch. His lips pressed against you with a crazy need.

Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears when he kept caressing every inch of you, making you spin. His palm smoothed over the curve of your waist down to your bum and gripped it tightly, moving you even closer to him.

You let out a whine at that, and one your legs was pulling him on hold, kissing down his neck. You could feel him clenching under you.

He let out a groan, while you moved your hand along his chest down to his jeans, his own hand leaving your body to grasp your hold against him. He groaned low against you.

He stopped kissing you to meet your eyes briefly.

“I want you,” he said, capturing your lips as his teeth grabbed your bottom lip and his hand cupped the side of your face.

“You can have me” you whispered, resting your forehead on his.

He leaned forward, capturing your lips as he unbuttoned your blouse, your hands working on his jeans, and planted kisses on his mouth. Kissing him deeply as one of your hands rested between you two, as you wrapped your hand around him.

His hands on your hips to hold you right there. The air in your lungs was trapped in a bubble of incredible pleasure, but it still found a way to escape in rushed moans against his mouth as you both kept devouring each other.

He groaned against your mouth, lips parting, unable to utter other things instead of whimpers that drove you absolutely crazy.

Your whimper got stuck on your throat when you felt his finger pushing through your hot entrance. You were already soaked and Joel lost his mind at the feeling of you squeezing around his finger. He attached his lips once again, drinking your moans as he started pumping his fingers, slowly then building up the pace. Your lips attached to his neck, leaving traces of your kissed on his skin, claiming him, possessive and graceful.

"Fuck….Bedroom," you whispered softly, not breaking the kiss.

Once you stepped in your room, you were lying on your back with him on top, taking your lips back to his again.

You placed your arms around his neck and opened your legs so he could go closer to you, moaning at the sensation of him against where you wanted him most.

You kept your lips attached as he ground his hips against yours, sending electricity running through your body. He groaned into the skin of your neck, yanking his jeans and underwear off. Your gentle grasp on him caused him to whimper.

He drew you closer to him by your hips as you continued to devour one other, you couldn't stop the joy and the dazzling fireworks traveling up to your lower stomach were stronger than your thoughts. You were utterly out of breath, and you wanted him so bad it ached that you felt your lungs would catch fire.

You couldn't really comprehend what he was saying on the skin of your chest because your mind was consumed by the overwhelming desire to have him as you needed right now.

He paused kissing you and spreading kisses on your chest for a moment to gaze at your parted lips and your chest rising and falling as a result of him, and he couldn't lie, he felt proud of his lasting control over you.

"Are you going to f-"

You couldn't finish before he snatched your lips back, dragging you around his waist and grinding himself against you, making you moan against his lips. With such want, you could feel the aching growing up between your tights.

"Don’t be a brat” he huskily whispered in your ear, making your knees weak.

Before you could fire your retort, his fingers teasingly caressed your core. He seemed to be having a good time and enjoying every second of you squirming under him. Your head fell back to the bed, a gentle but irritated murmur from your lips. When he saw your reaction, he smiled, and you felt the delicate touch of his fingers stroking across your core.

"Oh," you whimpered, out of breath.

His soft lips caressed every single area of your skin on your chest, just over your red bra, with an agonizing slowness that made you insane and roll your eyes of pure pleasure. The one he unhooked with one hand so swiftly you gasped, a sound drowned out by the sensation of his lips over your nipples while he continued to pound on you at your core.

He greets you with a laugh, his cheeks exposing his dimples, and his eyes shining at the sight of you.

"Joel, please…" you grumbled.

He sucked on a nipple, causing your back to arch as he gripped your hips to the bed before meeting your eyes, absorbing every inch of your face lost in the joy of the moment, stroking your checks with his thumb.

You gripped the gem of his t-shirt to remove it, leaving no barrier between the two of you.

He moved between your tights, spreading them apart once more, and welcomed himself into you. You hadn't had him since that night when you confessed to him, and he felt even bigger than you remembered, and you both gasped when he began thrusting inside. He pushed his forehead against your neck, kissing you softly over the skin.

"You're beautiful like this," he said into your ear, "God I could just-"

He could complete it since he focused solely on making you pleased picking up his pace and thrusting quicker. He was completely inside you, feeling like he was breaking down your defenses as he pushed it on and on. You were out of breath, and all the air in your lungs didn't feel quite enough. You bucked your hips, allowing him to move even more quickly. And that's exactly what he did, giving you everything you asked for.

As your nails left red lines on his naked back and he thrust his hips harder into you, you could feel the heat spreading all over your body, like diesel meeting fire, causing an imminent explosion.

You struggled to breathe, but it didn't matter since the surge of ectasis he gave you was enough to make you feel alive. His finger traced the patterns over you, leaving hot flames all over your skin, and you clutched him, trying to appreciate this closeness before it was ripped away.

And he continued to rock into you. The sounds you both produced were completely hot, forcing your blood to rush into your checks as you continued to toss your head back to give him permission to mark the skin of your neck.

"Fuck me…" you said in ecstasy,

"I’m doing it" he retorted.

You grasped for his hair to hold him tight against your lips, kissing the warm skin under his ear as if you wanted him to hear you, panting for air, feeling your climax come so close that you trembled against his body. Not long after, your world spun around you, and you tightened your grip on his waist, feeling the release as you cursed in his ear, forcing him to release after you. His push grew sloppy, sending small sparks up your tights, till he came to a halt and you saw a delicious sight.

He kissed your temple for a few seconds longer, enjoying the sweat drips on your skin. Finally, you looked into his eyes. His brow eyes' delicate brightness sent thrills down your spine, leaving you with a lump in your throat.

 Joel chuckled as he caressed your warm face, his touch on your skin radiating affection. All of the tension and resentment that led you to have sex before disappeared into the void.

"You can stay with me," you whispered as leaned in, his lips brushing against your brow. “You're exactly where you should be."

The next day, you and Joel were assigned to patrol together, as usual. The morning air was crisp, the kind that stung your cheeks but made you feel alive. The sun was just starting to rise, casting a golden hue over the frost-covered ground. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence, the familiarity of the routine settling between you.

As you reached the outskirts of Jackson, Joel suddenly veered off the usual path. You followed him, curiosity piqued, until you realized where he was leading you. Your steps faltered slightly when you saw the familiar spot—where you had buried your boyfriend, the place where you had said your final goodbye.

Joel paused a few steps ahead, turning to look at you. His expression was serious, yet there was a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “I know this is hard,” he said quietly, “but there’s something I need to do. Something I need to say.”

You nodded, unable to speak as the weight of the moment settled over you. Joel took a deep breath and stepped closer to the simple marker that marked your boyfriend’s resting place. He knelt down, his hand resting on the earth as if he were speaking directly to the man buried beneath it.

“I know you were everything to her,” Joel began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “And I know I’m not trying to replace you. But I care about her. I want to be there for her, protect her, and make her happy. I just… I need your permission to do that.”

The sincerity in Joel’s voice made your chest tighten, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You had never imagined a moment like this—Joel, who was usually so guarded, so tough, asking for the blessing of a man he’d never met, all for you.

“I know I wasn’t very gentle to her at the beginning but now she is everything for me, and I promise you that I will live every day of my life for her.”

“I know I wasn’t very gentle to her at the beginning,” Joel continued, his voice thick with regret. “But she’s everything to me now. And I promise you that I will live every day of my life for her. I’ll protect her, cherish her, and give her the kind of love she deserves. I swear it.”

You watched as Joel’s hand lingered on the ground, his thumb tracing small circles over the earth as if sealing his vow. The sight of him, this strong, stoic man who had been through so much, baring his soul in front of your boyfriend’s grave, made your tears fall freely.

Joel stood up slowly, his movements deliberate, as if he was giving the moment the gravity it deserved. When he turned to face you, there was a determination in his eyes, but also a softness—a quiet understanding that this wasn’t just about him, but about the both of you moving forward together.

He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to wipe away the tears on your cheeks. “I hope that’s enough,” he said quietly, his voice trembling ever so slightly. “I hope I’m enough.”

You took his hand, pressing it against your cheek, feeling the warmth of his touch soothe the ache in your chest. “You are, Joel,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “You are more than enough.”

With those words, something shifted between you—something deeper, more profound than before. It was as if, in that moment, you were finally laying to rest the ghosts of your past, giving yourself permission to embrace the future you wanted with Joel.

Joel leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, and then to your lips. The kiss was tender, filled with a promise that went beyond words. It was a kiss that spoke of new beginnings, of hope, and of a love that was both fragile and unbreakable.

“I lost my mind for you,” he repeated, his gaze intense and unwavering. “And I would always go back to that just to love you.”

You cupped his face in your hands, your thumb brushing gently across his cheek. “And I would choose you every time,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “Through everything.”

Joel’s eyes softened, and he pulled you into another embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that spoke volumes. You stood there, holding each other, finding solace in the shared silence and the comfort of each other’s presence.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the landscape, you both knew that while the world outside was still harsh and unforgiving, within the space you created together, there was a sanctuary, a place where love, even in its most fragile form, could flourish and grow.

I tagged everyone interested in more parts or or the ones who commented, but I couldn't tag everyone because all got mixed (again) if you don't want to be tagged you can tell me, if you want to be tagged, you can also tell me. I tried to add everyone but I don't know If I did.

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[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Lashing Out And Regretting It

Requested: heyya! love how you write the boys characters you got them so well just like how they are on the show. if its okay and if its a good idea, may i request an imagine with the boys and homelander and their reaction after they and reader got into an argument, getting to the point where they told reader some hurtful things and told reader to leave because they dont need reader or reader is nothing to them/is useless. they just say this because they’re angry but reader takes their word to heart and did just as they said. now they cant find reader or finding it hard to locate reader. could be platonic or familial. thank you! - anon

A/N: Screaming I love this!!! I live for the angst!!! I'm so sorry I've been so slow with requests my loves! I hope you can understand! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜💜💜

Requests are open! 🔮

Butcher embarrassed you in front of everyone. Yelling and screaming, calling you useless, all because Samer got away. You were a little too occupied with Kimiko and Frenchie to realize, opting to save your friend than chase after him. Both Kimiko and Frenchie were eager to come to your aid, but he shut them down. He got in your face and he humiliated you, said the team was better off without you. You left without a word, ignoring your friends who begged you to stay. You left your phone behind, knowing they'd call and text, apologizing for him. You were good at your job, the best even. You and Butcher have worked together a long time. This was your first mistake in a long time and he couldn't let it go. You were done. You packed a bag and disappeared. When they realized they couldn't reach you, they split up, looking at your apartment and usual hang outs. No one had seen you. Suddenly Butcher can feel his heart in his stomach. Regret spread through his chest. Everyone was pissed at him, but no one was angrier at him. He never should have done what he did. Now you were gone. Who knows when you'd show up again?

Hughie regrets it immediately. He said what he said because he was angry, and stupid, and awful. You left the night of the Tek Knight party. You were a Supe, a powerful one, but for whatever reasons, your abilities weren't what they used to be. You argued with him, saying he shouldn't go in alone. It came out before he realized, before he could take it back. Right now, he was more powerful than you were. What right did you have telling him what to do when you couldn't do your single job? The look on your face, the horror and hurt, it made him sick to his stomach. He tried to apologize, to explain, but you were done. You threw your hands up, wishing Hughie and the rest a safe mission, but you were done. M.M. assured him it was better to go through with it than run after you, so he did, but the whole time he's thinking about you. He doesn't find you at the office or apartment. You disappeared. They tried to track you, find you, but they hit wall after wall. You'd show up again, they all told him, you just needed time. He'd never felt so guilty in his life.

Annie didn't think you were trying hard enough. It didn't seem like you cared anymore. Not about the team, or taking down Homelander. You seemed like you were just going through the motions. She meant to just talk with you, but things escalated pretty quickly. As soon as she said the words, she knew she was in the wrong. You were becoming a liability to everyone involved. If you were done, burned out, then just say that. Leave. But if you wanted to be a part of this team, if you really cared, you'd stop being so useless. Truth was, you were tired. You were tired of everything. There was no name calling or fighting back. You didn't have it in you. You got up and you walked out, pushing past Butcher and the rest who were just walking in. Annie goes to follow you, but you just pick up your pace. She calls and texts, but you never answer. Everyone says to give you your space, but she can't let it go. She shows up at your place which is completely empty. It fills her with so much shame. She apologizes profusely, asking you to come back, but she never gets a response.

M.M. is reactive and angry and he knows what he's done is wrong immediately after. He's been in charge of this team and so far all you've been is negative. You've lost your faith in the team. He understands, he gets it, but for the sake of everyone involved, he needs you to look on the bright side. If there isn't one, he needs you to make one. He ends up blowing up at you while you're waiting for Hughie as Webweaver. You tell him, Annie, and Kimiko that you have a bad feeling about this, a terrible feeling, but it was too late to do anything. Hughie was already inside. He knows now is not the time nor place, but he loses it. If you can't have faith in the mission, in your teammates, then you shouldn't be here at all. Your attitude problems only hurt morality and it was worse than useless, it was dangerous. Annie and Kimiko try to de-escalate the situation, but you've made up your mind: you're done. You leave without a second thought, wishing them a safe mission. Because they're all occupied, no one can really do anything about it. After his panic attack, Marvin sees just how right you were, but when he calls it goes right to voicemail. When it seems like you disappeared, he does everything he can to track you down. You don't want to be found, though.

Frenchie fights with you after Samer gets away. It was the three of you that were in charge of him and you let him get away. You didn't have any fight left in you. It was your fault. He must've been working on the cuffs for weeks. You trusted him and you let Kimiko get hurt. You know that's the reason he's so upset: because he had to cut off her leg to save her. She could have died. You know what she means to him. And yet, he goes a little overboard. Everyone thinks so, yelling at him to stop when he's gone too far. You were useless. You let Samer get away, you let Kimiko get hurt, you failed at every single job you were given. He can see the look of hurt on your face and finally stops, the room left in a heavy silence. You grab your coat and you leave. There was no use in fighting with him, he was right. Annie and Hughie called after you, pleading with you to stay, but you waved them off, storming out. When they don't hear from you, they all start to worry. You sent a single text to Frenchie before turning off your phone. Tell Kimiko I'm sorry. Feeling guilty, he goes to your place. You're not there though, and neither are your immediate belongings: wallet, keys, phone, some clothes. He has to do something to fix this, to make things okay.

Kimiko is really hurt you turned yourself in alongside Frenchie. The guilt was eating you alive, all the things you've ever done. It was horrible. It was unforgivable. When you come back alongside Butcher, who insists you and Frenchie can replicate the virus, you can't stand to look at her. She wants to talk with you, to ask you why, and eventually, when you get a little alone time, she does. Of course she would understand, your upbringings were cruel, brutal, and it lead you down this road, but you couldn't move on. You couldn't forgive yourself. Kimiko was pissed. Did you really think it was that easy? Did you really think you were the only one eaten alive by guilt and shame and self-hatred? She was signing at you furiously, as close to yelling as she could get. You were so smart, so intelligent, and yet you were wasting your talents wanting to rot away in prison! If you were going to throw your talents away and hurt the team and hurt her and become a useless nobody, then what was stopping you? Certainly not her, not any of your friends. You don't have it in you to fight back. You don't have anything left in you, not anymore. She tries to get your attention when you leave, but you don't look back. When none of them hear from you, Kimiko begs The Boys to do everything they can to find you. Please, she has to make things right.

Bonus! Homelander cuts people out of life left and right. Still, you never thought he would turn on you. And yet, when you don't know who the snitch is, when you're not closer to pinpointing the culprit, he loses it. His eyes even heat up, though he catches himself, calming himself down. Firecracker interrupts his yelling, foolishly, but in the end it saves you from hearing anymore about how pathetic, useless, stupid you are. That you don't deserve to be a part of The Seven, you don't deserve to be a Supe at all. He goes off with her, believing it was Webweaver all along. You don't know how much time you have, but you know, in order to avoid his wrath, you have to leave right away. Get some space between you so that he can cool off, if he ever does. You took it as a pretty clear way of saying that you were out, you lost his trust. You weren't a friend anymore, you weren't anything anymore. Firecracker had saved the day. Again. When he comes back, covered in blood and no closer to finding the narc than he was before, he goes looking for you. He searches the entire city, but you've disappeared completely. Vanished.

[usedpidemo]

Too many nights ((G)I-dle Yuqi)

The way you see it, even if the signs were right in front of you all along—written in bright, colorful signposts with the largest text imaginable—you’d still be hurling yourself off that cliff. 

Yuqi knows this too—you think she does.

At the very least, she looks convincing enough that she feigns innocence on the matter, and she is. It's mainly a you problem. She doesn’t know you much other than being the sweet, quiet guy who was her roommate in college and nothing else.

And that’s probably the reason why she’s standing in front of your newly minted apartment on a random Monday.

—————

You’re waiting for her to pick her bags off the floor and leave. You told her to leave three times. Threaten to call security on her. She doesn’t budge. Instead, she stares. Stubborn, obstinate, unyielding.

“Please, give me one opportunity. Please let me explain myself.” Yuqi finally breaks her silence, eyes wide, glinting with tears, pleading.

“Shoot.”

She looks down, unable to see you eye to eye, her hands running through the pockets of her skirt. “You’re right. I’ve taken your kindness for granted, and I’m sorry. I really am.” 

Pausing, you’ve never heard her sound this quiet, this personal. “I never truly appreciated you till I was home with my parents. I should have focused more on studying than going out and having fun. Now look. They’re pissed that I’m being a bum at home instead of working, so they kicked me out.”

She proves your theory to be true. She has no reason to be here unless you bail her out of trouble again.

“But I can’t find one job that I like. Working a 9-5 or any regular cashier job seems so boring, you know what I mean? Doesn’t feel like my type of thing to do,” she continues, lightly kicking the suitcases with her feet. “My friends are all busy, so I had no one to lean on. Then I remembered you! So here I am.”

At least it was nice seeing Yuqi act mature for at least three minutes before reverting to her usual spry, childlike personality. 

“Okay? Well that’s on you for being lazy, and I can’t help with that. Sorry to hear you got kicked out, but I have nothing to offer you. It was great seeing you, though. Good luck with that job.” 

You try closing the door, but she stops it with her foot. Peeking through the narrow space, you find Yuqi persistent, unrelenting. “Wait. Hear me out for a second, I said I didn’t wanna be your roommate.”

“No, Yuqi. Just go—”

“I really need you right now. I’ve already applied to like five different companies on public wifi, it’s so fucking slow and I doubt they even got my email. I just need a place to stay for like a month. Trust me, I’ll get a job and when I get paid, I’ll spend it on finding my own apartment! Just give me this one time.”

You swear you’ve never heard Yuqi this desperate, this loud. Your neighbors are probably ringing up security right now, maybe the owner too.

“Okay, okay. Just calm down for a minute, will you? Our neighbors are listening.” You open the door lightly and Yuqi’s eyes light up. You didn’t even say yes, but it might as well be a confirmation to her.

“You promise? You’re actually working on a job application?” you ask, doubtful about her claim.

“Of course.” Yuqi shows her phone, presents pdf files of multiple application letters to the very places she doesn’t want to work. Some fastfood chains, at convenience stores, and mall outlets. “None of them have replied back, so—I’m still trying to apply to more places, but I’m almost out of data on my plan and I don’t wanna spend another night inside my car. Just give me this one thing? Okay?”

Seeing the evidence firsthand, you can’t help but be impressed. If you had any spine, you’d contemplate the proposal more, give it some time to mellow out, maybe let her elaborate some terms of agreement. But in a moment of weakness, you yield right away. What’s one month of Yuqi gonna do to you?

“All right, fine. I’ll let you stay—”

“I owe you one, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Yuqi doesn’t even let you finish your sentence when she brings her suitcases into your apartment at record speed. She gives you a peck on the cheek in appreciation twice, one for each pair of suitcases she shuffles in.

You can only sigh in response before closing the door.

—————

Before Yuqi gets comfortable in her new place, you sit her down on the living room couch to discuss house rules. This isn’t like college, where you share a dorm together, split the bill and have personal spaces. While you don’t own the apartment, you make one thing very clear: she’s bound to you and whatever rules you impose on her.

“Let’s make one thing and one thing clear: you break any of my rules, you’re outta here. I don’t care if you explain yourself, you’re gone. Understood?”

“Right.” Yuqi’s trembling with excitement and impatience, nodding erratically, kicking her legs up, goading you into rushing through everything so she can lay on an actual bed. 

You take a moment to analyze her suitcases in the middle of the room. Facing her, you ask cautiously, “Tell me you didn’t bring your—”

“Yep!” She responds almost immediately, thrilled to answer your question, as if it were muscle memory. “It’s exactly what you think it is.”

And there goes your supposed rule one. Of course she brought her entire dorm room decor along. Knowing her, they’re likely encompassing two of her suitcases.

“Yeah, no. My landlord is quite strict about decor, so you can’t put them up,” you tell her bluntly; there’s no getting around his rule, even if your roles were swapped.

She frowns, visibly devastated, probably more hurt than being kicked out by her family. It’s the end of the world, but she won’t give in. If there’s even a slight possibility she can have her way, she will force herself through. “Please? Even just my room—”

“Not a chance. It’s just a general rule here, sorry.” You make sure to shut her down immediately. “I didn’t make that rule, anyway. Blame the owner.”

Yuqi acquiesces. She groans with displeasure, crossing her arms, acting bratty. No act can convince you to change your mind.

“Right. Now actual ground rules. This isn’t a dorm so you can’t just freeload as much as you want. Now I understand you're still working on that job application, so all I’m asking is just for you not to be completely messy, got it? So don’t eat my leftovers without asking, don’t go out to clubs and ask me to drive you home when you’re drunk, none of that. If you’re drunk, sleep outside the room. I don’t want to clean up vomit on the carpets.”

Surprisingly, Yuqi agrees without complaint. You’re unsure whether she’s nodding so she can settle in, or if she actually understood every single word.

“I seriously hope you’re working on that job—”

“Don’t worry! Just give me the wifi password and I’ll be set.” Yuqi can’t help but interrupt you every single time, and to her credit, it’s effective. She does seem dead set on taking this opportunity to redeem herself, and it’s a convincing act. As insufferable as she can be at times, you want to see her succeed. You want to see her win.

You jot down the wifi password on an extremely thin sheet of paper and place it on the table before her. Before walking away, you ask her, “You need me to help with your belongings? I’ll get the guest room ready while you make yourself comfort—”

“Nah, it’s fine!” Yuqi’s typing on her phone, not even shooting you a look in your direction. “I’ll get it sorted out, don’t worry! Just pretend I’m not here.”

To her credit, she does get her belongings sorted out. By evening, she moves into a cleared out storage room that’s now her designated bedroom. Words are hardly exchanged other than simple pleasantries and greetings. You ask her if she had dinner, she says yes. She doesn’t take anything from the fridge other than some water. There’s a knock on the door; she answers and comes back with a package of chinese food. She offers to share some, but you modestly decline.

You never ate together when you shared a dorm in college. She would eat her inside her bedroom or after you already cleaned up. At times, she’d come back to the dorm late and you wouldn’t see her till the following day. You share the same space but you have vastly different lives. The feeling is familiar, but the setting is new: having dinner under the low light, uncertain about your futures. 

This feels like your first day together all over again.

—————

The first night with Yuqi is a quiet affair. There’s hardly any commotion. An unusual scene. She finishes her food ahead of you then retreats into her bedroom without uttering a single word. 

When you wake up the next morning, Yuqi is already at the dining table. Browsing her laptop, coffee in hand, seemingly focused on that next job application. She doesn’t even greet you or acknowledge your existence; she’s in her own world, but in a good way. 

“Morning,” you quietly say, trying to grab her attention, but it falls on deaf ears. 

“You off to work?” she asks, preceded by a mouse click while you pour onto your mug. Her attention remains glued to the screen, paying you no heed.

“Kind of?” You take a seat opposite Yuqi’s side on the table. “I work here. Or should I say: this is my workplace.” 

“Wow. I wish I could work from home. Would be nice,” she replies between mouse clicks and keyboard taps.

You take a light sip of your coffee. “What course did you take again?” 

“Umm—” Yuqi slumps back in her chair, “I think it was medicine? I wanted to become a guitarist and have my own band, but my parents wanted me to become a doctor. And I don’t wanna ruin my handwriting, so—” 

“Don’t you have a band with your friends? The one with—”

“Yeah that dream died two years ago.” Yuqi’s eyes squint, brows furrowing, running through every word slightly faster than normal. “And I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Not even a little—”

“No.” She faces you with a surprisingly cold glare, a sight you’ve never seen before. “They can just fuck off—those goddamn bitches.” 

You find yourself unable to move the conversation forward after her abrupt turn. It’s probably for the best; you hardly paid any attention to Yuqi’s life to be entitled to a substantial explanation. 

The rest of the hour goes by in deafening, awkward silence. Here’s Yuqi, this ball of energy whose life primarily revolves around partying and getting rowdy, calmly clicking on the touchpad and typing a few words every now and then in search of a way to fund her addiction. You can tell from her sullen expression just how deprived she is of that high—how incomplete she feels without the rush of adrenaline, ecstasy, and alcohol flowing through her veins. It’s impressive how it takes someone to hit rock bottom to turn their life around, how all this could have been avoided with a few decisions.

Still, it’s never too late for someone like her, and as long as she holds up her end of the deal, i.e. leave you for good after this, you’ll actively root for her success.

—————

“Fucking hell, dude,” sighs Yuqi, slamming the panel of her laptop hard, her fist narrowing missing the edge of the table. While you’ve made yourself comfortable at your usual workplace, a spacious office desk on the other side of the living room, you’re preoccupied scanning through numerous documents and emails your boss sent you. A look at the bottom right of the screen tells you it’s half past lunch. Then your stomach grumbles, as if the clock wasn’t enough of a reminder.

“Gonna make lunch,” you say to a vexed Yuqi, who’s stretching her legs against the table and her arms to the ceiling, body likely aching from her hunched position. “You good?”

“Yep.” Her tone perfectly toes the line between sincerity and sarcasm. “Got three rejections—no, four, actually. The last one was sent minutes ago.”

You’re not sure how to respond.

“Oof.” 

You couldn’t relate to her even if you tried. Of the two applications you sent, your current job is the one that gave you the freedom and flexibility to work from home, even if it paid less than the other. That was six months ago; finding job opportunities has become way harder, or so you’ve heard from your other unemployed peers from college.

“Finding a job sucks,” says Yuqi, stating the obvious. She finally gets up from her chair, brings her laptop back into her bedroom to charge before reemerging with a hairpin wrapped around her knuckles, tying it around her loose red hair. “So, what’s for lunch?”

“Meatloaf and eggs,” you reply, firing up the stove as you grab pans from beneath the sink. “Not sure if you’ll like it, though.”

She lifts her eyebrows, intrigued, but mostly unbothered. She’ll eat anything as long as it isn’t fast food or from the convenience store, and she doesn’t have the gall to complain, anyway, as your roommate. 

—————

“So, how’s the job hunting going?” you ask her right as the sun descends over your apartment windows. You have your schedule down to a science, finishing all intended projects and goals when neighboring buildings’ lights open. Weekdays can’t be anymore mundane and monotonous, but you get the job done, you’re paid handsomely, and you have time for your other hobbies.

Meanwhile, Yuqi looks like she doesn’t want to stare at a computer screen for a week, maybe a month. She looks worse off than she did in the morning. It’s evident in her clothes, her hair, her face: frazzled and messy. A perfect representation of her state.

“What do you think?” she replies, never sounding so heated, so frustrated. A look at her screen shows a new rejection letter, piled between several others, already read. Each one with different reasons, different ways to hurt, but with the same intent: we appreciate your interest, but we have chosen a different candidate from a very competitive pool—we don’t think you fulfill our qualifications—we’re looking for someone with more experience—we wish you the best in your future endeavors. You’ve noticed she tends to click back and forth between each letter, as if to torture herself further.

“I think you should put that laptop away. Try again tomorrow,” you tell her, closing the panel while she’s scrolling, stealing her attention. She readjusts her glasses, blinking rapidly, annoyed at your little intervention. “I’m going for a walk. You should join me.”

“And what if I don’t?” she asks, threatening to pull her laptop away from your fingers. 

“Good luck going out when I have the room key then.”

“I don’t have my running shoes,” she replies, and she’s telling the truth; she only brought one pair of slippers with her, the rest being colorful sets of boots and expensive high heels.

“Then grab some from my closet and wash up. You’ll look stupid if you go out in those silly boots.”

—————

At first, you believe she had declined the offer; you had already left the building when Yuqi caught up to you moments later, huffing and puffing from exhaustion. Hey, maybe she could have been a great track and field athlete if she put her mind to it.

You can’t help but make a little comment. “Thought you weren’t going to go out.”

That was for all the times she’d make similar remarks to you back in college. They never really bothered you; you were never a man of high morals and upstanding, but at least you had your priorities sorted out, unlike Yuqi. 

Yuqi playfully counters your rib, shooting you a disparaging stare. “Dude. I’m doing you a favor by doing this.”

“Elaborate.” You laugh.

“You never went out whenever I asked you. You always said no to parties.”

“And for good reason. Look at us now.” 

If you wanted to, you’d be harsher. You have years of dirty laundry and grievances to air out, but this is as concise and as restrained as you can express them without getting accused of attempted murder. Besides, you can’t keep a straight face the longer you look at her. She clearly stands out in a rather dreary and dull crowd, and it isn’t the red hair as bright as the sun, it's her look—or lack thereof. Your oversized hoodie, your running shoes mixed with her pajamas, the lack of bra—it’s obvious she only did the bare minimum to look decent in a public setting, and yet she fits in all of them like a glove.

“Where are we going, anyway? Can it be a bar? I hope it’s a bar.” 

The first thing she wants to look for once outside is a place to drink. Of course. It’s hardly a surprise to you or anyone at this point.

“Where’s your car anyway?” you question back. 

“I dunno. Could be in the carpark, could have been impounded. I don’t remember, and I don’t really care. It smells like dogshit, anyway, cause I’ve been living in it for the past three weeks.” 

Yuqi talks with a fine blend of fast and sardonic, evidently scarred from all her ordeals with that car. She’s never experienced living outside her glass castle until now, and it shows. She’s dragging her feet with every step following you close behind, trying to soak in the scenery around her. Street lights, joggers, buskers, friends, and partners of every sort, people that you actually know and recognize. It’s all foreign in her eyes. All she knows are strobe lights, loud music, drinks, and rowdy crowds. 

“So, like, do you just go on a walk every single day or you only do this because I’m your roommate?” she wonders, her gaze lingering at a passing woman jogger that catches her eye. Jumping to conclusions, she adds, “Are you telling me to touch grass? As if I hadn’t been doing that for weeks?”

You turn around and notice her distant stare, still fixated on that woman, ruminating the prospect of leaving you for her instead. “I don’t think getting blacked out drunk and vomiting in your car counts as touching grass.”

“How do you even know that?” Yuqi faces you, provoked by your comment, pouting. “You hardly attend parties, even when I invited you. You always turned them down.”

“Word gets around fast. I thought you already knew that.” 

If she could, she’d grab you by the throat and strangle you to death or rip you in half. It stings. She questions whether your blunt, matter-of-fact delivery makes the statement ten times more scathing. Then she wonders if she made a mistake, dressing up and going after you, when you’ll just be making her regret her life decisions like her parents did. You hardly cared back then, so why now?

“Can we just go to a bar? You’re being annoying.” Yuqi stares into the distance, intentionally averting her gaze away from you.

“If you have the money, then sure, let’s go for it.” You know she has no leverage or power; she can only afford fast food and a month’s worth of groceries and daily necessities. It pains her to make a willing decision to pass on alcohol and avoid bars and parties. She’s down horrendously, but she won’t directly confess her own fatal flaw. 

It takes everything within her not to slap you square in the face. 

And you can play this game all night long until she folds. You can stand there, argue, and debate with Yuqi till she runs out of excuses and complaints. Four years of pent up material to unload onto her, make a scene in public and turn her into an example about not wasting one’s life away. You can go further, you promise. 

Instead, you both settle down in a cafe on the other side of the park as a compromise.

The place is more suited to Yuqi’s style: lively crowd, comfortable ambience, all the caffeine and sugar as a proxy to her raging alcohol addiction. Most importantly, she won’t pay for shit. You don’t even end up drinking your own order; she does it on your behalf. You settle for a tiny cup of tap water instead. In a way, she’s acting like a needy dog, desperate for attention without concern for anything else that doesn’t involve her.

“Fucking hell, I never knew I needed this,” she echoes, sipping up the last quarter of your coffee, glancing at the menu over the counter, itching for another. She’s keen on paying from her pocket this time; she recognizes you won’t give her another freebie. “This shit tastes so good.”

You can only shake your head, not even remotely trying to hide your frustration toward her. Her obliviousness is kind of cute in a way, making her look a bit sympathetic. 

“Maybe I should just work here,” she says, her eyes moving in every direction, her attention taken by something shiny every five seconds. Plenty of action happens at night: groups entering and exiting, the pervasive scent of fresh coffee brewing in real time, and plenty of girls to ogle at. In particular, there’s a waitress with a cherry tattoo on her neck that’s captured her interest. She can’t help but point her out to you, grinning widely at her. “See that waitress? She’s kinda cute.”

“Uh-huh.” You’re not really paying attention; you’re there mainly for the free wifi and a snack, not to flirt. Luckily for you both, the waitress is preoccupied with meeting high customer demands to notice. “Good idea, maybe you should apply here.”

The longer you stay inside the cafe premises, the more Yuqi becomes less inclined to leave. You end up having dinner, a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches from the snack menu. On her end, four cups of coffee strewn on the table, all drank by her. If this was some ploy to make you pay for free drinks, it worked to a tee. Anything to avoid engaging you in a serious conversation.

The opportunity never presents itself. Soon, the cafe becomes dimmer and muted. Staff are closing off sections, clearing trays, and cleaning up empty tables. Since you entered the cafe, she has not made a move on the waitress at all, even when you’ve tried pushing her over the cliff numerous times. Her shift is close to done, ready to check out for the day. One more opening. Still, Yuqi watches her intently, but can’t find the strength to stand, let alone pull the trigger.

“Well? I thought you were gonna ask her out or something.” You take a look around and come to a grim realization: that you’re the only two customers left.

“I—I don’t think I wanna do it now.” Yuqi turns around, playfully grinning, but rushing through her words. “Maybe when I get the job here. Maybe.”

You can only react in quiet disbelief to how this was all just a huge waste of time—and money.

“Fucking—” you sputter before masking the rest of your response, groaning as you rise from your seat, leaving.

After two days, your main observation is that Yuqi hasn’t changed much. If at all.

—————

The rest of the week follows a similar structure. It’s comforting; it’s the kind of monotony you’ve acquainted yourself in ever since having your own apartment. Yuqi’s always up before you, an hour in advance, she’ll tell you. At her usual spot around the dining table, on her laptop, coffee in hand. You stop asking for updates after the third day; you’re certain she’ll figure things out. Your mindfulness and curiosity get the better of you, peeking through the screen on occasion, only to find the same thing. One rejection after another, mixed in with a new application letter in between. From the outside looking in, it’s as if some divine force doesn’t want her to get that job.

In the evenings, you go for your usual walks. Yuqi joins you out of the apartment building, but instead of following, she separates and heads the other way. She’s wearing her own earphones and your hoodie, something she’ll end up keeping. The few times you run across each other, she's holding some drink in her hand, usually the coffee from the cafe you spent time with her in, her hoodie pooling with sweat all over. No pleasantries, you mind your own business till you return home.

It isn’t until two weeks after she’s moved in that you extend an invitation: a visit to a newly opened lounge on the other side of town. You preface the invite saying you only knew about the place because it had opened a month ago, and had mostly forgotten about it until you remembered her. She’s doing well for herself, so you might as well reward her for her efforts, even if it hasn’t gone anywhere. And it isn’t Yuqi without asking for some kind of favor; in this case, taking a ride in your car because hers has been impounded by the police. You’re not even surprised that she’s too lazy to reclaim it herself.

Your friend says the lounge is newly opened, but once inside, you’re uncertain about her claim. Whether it's by design or her being a complete liar, grimy, poorly lit, in the vein of all those underground clubs you had seen in action movies where a shootout or police raid occurs. Simply put, there isn’t anywhere pretty to look at, and you feel icky just by being here.

To Yuqi, it’s a fantasyland: it’s where she’s meant to be all along. She’s so overjoyed to be there. 

“It’s you!” calls a familiar voice; you turn and find a friendly face over the counter waving to you. You quietly leave Yuqi to herself and approach the bartender, who just so happens to be the owner. “I never thought you’d come and visit! It’s great to see you.”

“Only doing this for a friend, Minnie,” you silently tell her, pointing your finger at your invited guest, the sole reason you’d ever be here. She recognizes her immediately and understands.

“Yuqi, huh?” She looks intrigued, her gaze lingering at the girl. A subtle grin is forming on her face. “Never thought the two of you would be an item like that, considering she’s a party animal and you’re—”

“No—no—don’t get it twisted,” you interrupt, frantically trying to clear up any presumption. There’s no chance in hell you will ever find yourself attached to Yuqi romantically, not even a little. “It’s—a long story.”

“Do tell.” Minnie smirks, teasing, alluring. She looks the part of a bar owner, all right; dark eyelashes and shadowy lipstick matching her pitch black hair. Not to mention her slim dress perfectly hugging her tight frame, showing enough cleavage to draw attention. As a friendly gesture, she gives you a wine glass and pours a drink on it. “We’ve got all the time in the world and all the drinks you need. All in house since you’re a friend.”

So you oblige yourself to a tiny sip. The place is surprisingly quiet and empty, even though it’s the weekend, with lo-fi music playing through the speakers as the only form of background noise. Minnie doesn’t have much on her plate. She can lean on the desk and listen to you all night long.

“So, two weeks ago, Yuqi moved into my place trying to look for a job,” you tell Minnie before taking another sip. Both of you take quick glances at Yuqi, seemingly having the time of her life, scaring off the sole patron by the billiards table. “And I was wondering if you can get her a job here. She’s been rejected from every company she applied for. I know she doesn’t want to work a nine-to-five, and I suddenly remembered this place.”

Minnie raises a curious eyebrow, brushing small strands of hair covering her ear. “I see.” Looking past you, she notices Yuqi, now at the karaoke, amused by her voice and energy. You follow along and watch too, wincing at her talent, caught completely by surprise. You can feel the passion and emotion from her rather honeyed, deep singing voice, as well as her natural charisma while performing. 

“Damn. She sounds really good. Borderline natural at it.” Minnie’s in awe of Yuqi’s abilities, the sort of reaction that pushes buttons, steals the show. “Wasn’t she in a band? I know she played guitar.”

“She said it doesn’t exist anymore, won’t tell me what happened.” 

Even in the midst of conversation, Yuqi’s voice manages to snatch away your focus. She’s an extremely powerful singer—a natural, as Minnie said. Her voice is overpowering the background music with little difficulty. There’s little need to watch when her vocals can easily capture your attention all the same. 

Facing you again, Minnie replies, clasping her hands together, “How about she perform by herself?” she suggests. 

You meet her eye to eye at the drop of the notion, curious.

“What do you mean?” You take another sip.

“We have an open mic night next weekend, and we could use talent to liven up the place. She sounds perfect for that kind of gig. Who knows? Maybe she can be a resident singer if the cards are right.” Minnie smiles through every word, recognizing Yuqi’s talent and the untapped potential she has. All she needs is a platform to showcase her skill properly. And taking another glance at her, you see that too. She has the passion and the vocals to croon a live audience.

“I’ll tell her,” you say, turning to Minnie again. Yuqi has finished performing and is on her way over to the bar. Your conversation breaks off as the two women greet each other with an exchange of kisses on the cheek. 

“Great place you got here girl,” Yuqi tells Minnie, beaming from ear to ear. “I’ll be popping by often if you don’t mind.”

“Thanks. I could use some company on the weekdays, if I’m being honest.” Minnie hands Yuqi her own wine-filled glass, as well as a complimentary bottle. She makes sure not to “Take it, it’s on the house.”

“God, this is why I love you so fucking much.” Yuqi drinks up the whole glass in one swig, and immediately pours some from the complimentary bottle. Minnie can’t help but shake her head with a little smile, knowing this is still the same Yuqi she’s acquainted with since college. A rose-tinted view of days gone by. 

The two women spend the rest of the time catching up. With how much they talk, it would be a safe assumption to think that these are two long lost friends who haven’t spoken in years. Then the conversation goes on and on, revealing more details than you should probably know: exchanged  private messages as recent as last night, Yuqi’s intentions to visit the lounge sooner before present circumstances got in the way, and how she ended up in your apartment. As a listener and side character in her story, it’s a part you quite frankly never wanted, let alone be involved in under any capacity. You make sure to add your point of view in the narrative and clear every question. Whenever you chime in, they laugh heartily. It’s a mess, and they’re unapologetically quirky, never failing to make fun of you at times.

Despite everything, the topic is never brought up: the upcoming open mic night, her performance, her natural talent. You were planning to shoehorn the idea, but one too many drinks later, the conversation and opportunity eventually slips away. Again. 

Yuqi can hardly stand on her own two feet when she finally decides it's time to leave. It’s two in the morning when you guide her back to your car, with her drunk out of her mind and slipping into unconsciousness. Minnie assists you, making it even more embarrassing. Even when she’s so inebriated that she can barely move a muscle, she says she wants another round, slipping back into her old ways.

You escort Yuqi back to your apartment, setting her down on her bed and promising yourself that you’ll tell her about Minnie’s offer when she’s sober in the morning. 

Except it’s the one fucking day in the month where your job calls you into an actual office for a meeting. Despite that, Yuqi is not at her usual spot in the living room the next morning (unsurprisingly), so you leave food on the table for when she eventually wakes up.

—————

Returning late in the afternoon, you find a note from Yuqi on the outside door of your apartment, stamped by strawberry lipstick, simply reading:

> Not gonna be around till tomorrow. Have something urgent to attend to - XOXO, song yuqi

Sure enough, one brief tour of the apartment and Yuqi is nowhere to be seen. Her room remains untouched: the same, colorful space it’s always been, with most of her clothes and belongings still strewn everywhere on the floor. You don’t even mind the stickers and posters plastered all over the walls; she was gonna break that rule regardless. Typical, but expected. At least you know she hasn’t completely left yet.

Deep down, it’s the first time in a while that your apartment feels a lot smaller—and lonelier. It’s not that you have any sentimental attachment to Yuqi—not in the slightest—but her presence clearly livens up the place. The difference without her around is night and day. Even when your interactions are limited to a minimum, the brief moments you interact make living by yourself a bit more tolerable. 

So you preoccupy your mind with your usual schedule: a walk in the park, then dinner by yourself. But these intrusive thoughts grow worse and worse. You’re not in your pajamas at the usual hour, her absence is keeping you up at night, and waiting for her to walk through that door is about as brutal as federal punishment.

You end up driving to Minnie’s bar, inquiring about Yuqi’s whereabouts. She says she hasn’t been around, and she hasn’t exchanged messages with her since last night. Then she asks about open mic night; you tell her about the inconvenience, about the note on your door, which is why you’re there. Good effort, but she ultimately gives you nothing.

“You should stay here a while, who knows? I can message Yuqi you’ve been looking for her,” says Minnie, her smile as welcoming as it’s ever been. “Why not have a drink in the meantime?”

“Hmm.” You entertain the thought, but she promised to return tomorrow, and perhaps you’re overthinking it; you just have to let it play out. “No thanks.” As a distraction you’re watching another girl at the karaoke machine. She has distinctively pink hair, has similar energy and passion for singing, except her voice is much higher, more nasally. All she does is remind you of Yuqi, but she’s nowhere close—in appearance and in ability. “She promised to be back tomorrow. Maybe I should take her word for it and go home.”

A pour of wine on the glass is followed by her siren-like whisper. With her hand caressing your shoulder, she mutters, “So—you like her. You like Song Yuqi.”

You raise an eyebrow, taken aback by her statement. Facing Minnie, you reply, “What? No way. I don’t like Yuqi at all. I’m just concerned she might have disappeared, that’s all.”

“Cap.” Minnie smirks, murmurs to your other ear. “You like her. Actually, you love her. You just won’t admit it.”

“And what makes you say that?” 

“The fact you look so distressed wondering where she is. I mean—just look at you.” Her voice is slow, delicate, each word delivered with profound emphasis. She flickers a lighter, then directs the cigarette in her mouth for a puff. “Would someone who doesn’t like her worry like this?”

“I mean—I’m just trying to help her get back on her feet,” you tell her, and Minnie can only chuckle in response. Puff more smoke. In her eyes, you’re not doing yourself any favors. Your words have no weight to them. It’s the same old same old most women like her hear dozens of times. I’m not into her, says the guy who’s showing an alarming level of concern towards said girl. Something she’s all too familiar with. “You know? Just looking out for a friend, that kinda thing.”

Minnie wishes she can hold up a mirror against you now to prove her point. In a place meant for everyone to relax and ease themselves, you look tumid, on the verge of a historical crash out. She smirks into her next smoke, shaking her head, scrolling through her phone. “Sure. I believe you,” she remarks, and there’s no effort made to hide the sarcasm in any capacity.

That piece of cigar looks quite appealing right now. She sells smoking like she sells the off shoulder dress draping her defined figure: exceptionally well, like she’s meant for it.

Later in the night—you’re unsure whether it’s still today or tomorrow—Minnie suddenly approaches you with a shift in enthusiasm, as seen through her grin: “You should probably head home. Unless you want to stay the night waiting for someone who won’t be here in the morning.”

“She’s back already?” You manage to decipher the hint right away.

She nods, can’t help herself from beaming continuously. No effort to lie or maintain the mystery further. “I guess you’re not as stupid as I thought you’d be.”

Running up the stairs in a hurry, you respond to her little jab with a shout, “And you owe me one for that. Actually—no, I owe you one!” 

Unknowingly, Yuqi’s little mannerisms are starting to reflect in you, too.

Sure enough, you’re home within a matter of minutes. Empty streets, dead nightlife on a weekday, the loudest thing heard for miles is the roar of your car’s engine and the elevator headed up to your apartment floor. Any other time you’d burst through that door like an officer with an arrest warrant, but it’s almost three in the morning, and the last thing you want to be is apprehended yourself after a noise complaint. 

The place remains as unchanged as you had left it: completely dark, save for one light over the kitchen. It’s quiet, eerily silent—until you hear airy, soft noises in the distance. Room by room, you carefully inspect where the sound is coming from, only to find nothing at all. 

There’s only one place left to check, and it happens to be the Yuqi’s bedroom. A room you remember being empty. As you approach the sole unopened door, you notice the faint sound growing in pitch. Hushed words from a familiar tone.

“Fuck—oh fuck—”

You press an ear against the door frame. She sounds clearer.  Way more explicit. Vivid.

“So—so—good—fuck yes—”

There’s a subtle creaking sound that accompanies her singsong tone almost perfectly. Nothing is left open for interpretation; Yuqi is feeling herself. Feeling a satisfaction that only comes from something slick, something rough, something good. 

As much as you want to respect her space, her moment in the dark, you can’t help yourself. She sounds so good, so gratifying to the ears, it’s making you a little hot and flustered, much to your own guilt and shame. You don’t care about the consequences; you’ll allow yourself one little look then pretend it never happened. At best, she’s too preoccupied with her own bliss to notice, and at worst, it’ll be one awkward conversation starter in the morning.

“Oh, oh God—you feel really good baby—just like that—”

It’s as if she’s reading your mind, understanding your intentions. The way she moans your name like an invitation—something you never thought you would hear or even consider—how it’s naturally delivered from her sweet, intoxicating voice. You’re doing yourself a disservice by listening through the door.

There’s no better opportunity than now.

With your heart racing against your chest, every nerve in your muscles tense up as it desperately opens the door, slowly and as quietly as humanly possible. Miraculously, you go completely unnoticed. Even as light from the living room slowly penetrates through Yuqi’s bedroom, it fails to cover what really matters: the bed and Yuqi herself. 

Nevertheless, the sight that welcomes you is one to behold, one worth looking at with complete awe.

Yuqi’s body is splayed out on the bed. Her legs are spread wide, a couple of her fingers aggressively rubbing against her exposed clit, and there’s a glossy sheen coating the sheets before her soaking wet core. Her clothes are, unsurprisingly, scattered all over the floor, along with a pair of consumed alcohol bottles. She’s completely bare for your eyes to see. Nothing is left to your imagination. More importantly, she looks so fucking hot. Your heart is racing like never before, and the scene has your pants in a twist.

Her other hand runs up and down her lithe frame, then squeezes her own breast. She lets out this sharp mewl, grinding her hips against air. Her jaw slacks wide. Her eyes shut tight. Her back arches. Waves of self-induced pleasure send shockwaves through every fiber of her being, her moans growing more and more erratic.

“Fucking give it to me—I love this cock so fucking much—”

It’s about as pornographic and explicit as it gets. It riles you up in an uncomfortable way; you end up unzipping your pants to free your growing erection, but nothing happens beyond that. It feels wrong. It is wrong, but you can’t muster up the strength to look away, let alone walk away. You want to see how it ends. How she cums.

She wraps a hand around her own throat, while her knees are planted upright with her feet firmly gripped on the sheets. There's a noticeable tone change in her whines, as if simulating the act. Yet, the words flow from her lips seamlessly. “I’m so close—so, so close—”

The cackle she makes after is mortifying. Here’s this girl, who you had zero attraction prior to tonight, shamelessly declaring how she’s going to cum, how good your cock feels inside her—without either of the two even happening to begin with. The fact she likes you is the least shocking revelation in itself. A reminder: you only had three meaningful conversations with her since she moved in—two if you consider how blackout drunk she was the night before, and even if you go all the way back to your college days, you can count them with your fingers alone.

“Fucking—cumming—oh my God—”

Yuqi strains her knees and loosens her grip on the sheets as she lets the pleasure wash over. Clear liquid gushes past her throbbing, relentless fingers and spills onto the linen. A guttural, deep moan fills the bedroom as she slumps her body flat on the mattress, her energy completely depleted, her thoughts filled with nothing but orgasmic bliss. Her coated hands rest on her bare waist, her tummy, leaving viscous sheen on her creamy pale skin.

When she isn’t screaming your name or touching herself to the thought of you, Yuqi, at her barest, looks so gorgeous like this. Flaws and all.

Albeit brief, it’s quite the show to more than satisfy your thirst for her. You remember your uninvited presence in this room and where you stand in this relationship. That she’s only a tenant—an acquaintance at best—and nothing more. Any other person and situation would already send you damning to hell. 

So you quietly leave, gather your bearings, hoping her haze doesn’t clear before she is made aware of your presence, but you hear a faint whisper right as you close the door, clearer than any whine of pleasure:

“Hey.”

Part of you wants to ignore her, pretend this is all a huge misunderstanding and feign ignorance. Then you hear her soft, alluring voice calling your name and it’s what ultimately folds you:

“W-what time is it?”

Again, you consider the choice of entertaining her question or leaving her dry. She’ll probably fall asleep shortly after and forget these few moments. You tell her it’s three in the morning, hoping she dozes off.

She doesn’t.

“Shit. Can you come inside? I mean—come in.”

She’s still thinking about you, and it’s admittedly cute. You love how unabashedly blunt—and lewd—she is when she’s drunk. You give her the benefit of the doubt and reenter the room.

Yuqi realizes the messy state she and her bedroom are in when you turn on the lights. Cheeks puffed and red from embarrassment, she tries to hop off the mattress, only to stumble to the floor on her fours. 

“I’m so, so, sorry. I didn’t think you’d—” 

“Hey hey, it’s fine.” You grab her off the floor and sit her on the bed. “Don’t apologize. I’ll get some water; stay here and rest.”

Your eyes are meeting, hers twinkling. In those few, crucial moments, right when you’re about to leave, you feel an irresistible tug pulling you closer to each other.

Suddenly, Yuqi pulls you in by the shirt for a deep, passionate kiss. Her lips taste like actual whisky and vodka, indicating what she drank earlier that night. Yet they feel so lush, so sweet, filled with so much passion. You don’t bother trying; you fold to your lust, submit to her desire. You sink onto the bed together, never breaking apart, even for a second. Next thing you know, her hands are all over your body, roaming your chest, coiled around your neck, removing the shirt over your head to be tossed aside and completely forgotten.

Yet there’s still some resistance. Despite making the first move, she pulls back, and you do so in return. You’re hovering on top of her—an unexpected but welcome position to be in. 

“I didn’t know what got me there. I’m sorry. I just felt this sudden need to kiss you and—”

You shut her up by diving in and kissing her again, pinning Yuqi down to the mattress—the very thing that got you into this position to begin with. With you all over her, she’s able to shed the rest of your clothes: first the slacks, followed by your boxers. She mewls at the sensation of your hard cock pressed against her slit, and it’s beyond what her imagination can describe. It’s electrifying. And God, you know you’re no better than her, but you just want to fuck her right then and there, give her everything she wants without a second thought. 

Grabbing you by the scalp, she rips your lips off her chin as you’re making your way down her neck. “Not yet. Nuh uh.” She pulls you into yet another kiss, as if you’re oxygen—and in a way, it’s appropriate: you’re breathing new life into her. “Did I ever tell you that you were a good kisser?”

“Not at all,” you tell her, gently shaking your head. “You’re not half bad yourself.”

“Half bad?” Yuqi raises a sharp eyebrow, seemingly offended by your backhanded compliment. A dangerous smirk forms on her lips. “Says the one who was watching me the entire time—”

“You knew?” There’s a heightened sense of panic in your voice. “I thought  you were—”

“Shhh.” She kisses you, pulls you into a warm cuddle atop her. Slender legs wrapped around your hips, she follows: “Less talk, more lovemaking.”

And more lovemaking you do. You grow more easily acquainted with her lips than with her personality, and you barely know them: it’s only been a few minutes. Even though it’s a Thursday, the weekend feels like a lifetime away. You should be up five hours from now; you have the alarm preset and everything. But Yuqi’s getting in your way again, as she always has, and this won’t certainly be the last. She’s so hypnotic, so alluring, you find yourself unable to slip away, no matter how hard you try.

You find that it’s easier to give in than to struggle aimlessly. 

It’s effortless to get your fingers pressed inside her sopping core, brushing along sensitive, wet ridges of skin, where thoughts of you manifested into thin, delicate strokes. Her moans ring against your ears in varying pitches, each with a distinct, pulsing plea of satisfaction. Keep going, she tells you, and you follow without complaint. All this while you leave a soft path of bite marks down her neck and collarbones, until you reach her petite chest.

And fuck, you just go down on Yuqi. Sucking on her breasts like you’re in the middle of an oasis in the desert. She goes wild. Tossing, turning, trembling. You can feel her body close on you, wanting to take you in and suffocate you. The bed is creaking, growing strikingly more intense, turbulent. All this spurring you on, making you more reckless, more daring with her. 

“Mmmmm—fuck!” She lets out a hum of desperation, her hot, shaky breath fogging on your skin. You become an intertwined labyrinth of limbs that fit together, where you have no idea where it begins and where it ends. Your fingers vanish between her legs, still working tirelessly, perfectly snug around her pussy even when crushed between the weight of her thighs.

Eventually, you find yourself staring aimlessly at Yuqi. She’s so beautiful, and you’re punching yourself mentally, wondering why it took so long to come to this conclusion. Even when she’s not rocking the trendy hair color of the week and her face is a canvas for every conceivable makeup and filter, she’s naturally pretty. Especially now, completely bare—and with nothing but an exasperated, satisfied look of inebriated, lust filled bliss.

You find the light peeking from the living room, casting a shadow between your tangled legs. She’s dripping at her core, showering your fingers with a fresh flow of sheen, messing up the sheets even further if that’s even possible. They’re beyond saving at this point, and so are you. 

Rolling to her side, Yuqi wraps her arm around you, as if enticing you to stay. You shouldn’t have done this, but it’s too late: there’s no going back. You’re too lazy to close the door, and you have the girl you previously never gave a second look rubbing lazy circles on your stomach with her coated nails. Her hair draped all over your arm and shoulder, her eyes looking up at yours, acting all soft and innocent—

Until she starts talking again. “It wouldn’t be complete unless you cum inside me, wouldn’t it?”

The difference between her body language and her lips is night and day. Right then and there, you immediately recognize that there’s no other way this night will end. How your body moves at her will, how you immediately roll on top of her, as if it’s programmed to follow her every command. You have her legs pressed up and spread wide, her knees bent, lining your aching cock against the wet slit of her cunt. All while her features twist into a sickening, slimy grin in the slim shape of a lip bite. The fire, the desire—it’s still as bright as ever. 

And to make sure you aren’t second guessing the idea, her arms are coiled around your neck, her hands grabbing at your hair, pressing on your nape. Yuqi wants you—needs you—to fuck her silly; it’s the only way she can be satiated.

You watch Yuqi’s expression contort from anxious to messy, and the feeling is mutual. You slip in, slow and delicate, going against her instruction, and you almost lose it at the first stroke. The deep, guttural moan you make echoes throughout the entire apartment, while her firm walls pulse against your cock. It’s hot, it’s tense, it’s suffocating. 

“Shit, shit, shit—” you mutter, gently trying to pull back, but the fiery sensation burns, scratches away at your psyche, at your loins. “So—fucking—tight—Yuqi—fuck.”

“C’mon. Fuck me. Fuck me now.” She kisses your ear, her legs pounding against your hips, demanding you to move. There’s some serious intent behind her tone, a seamless blend of demand and impatience. “Use that big cock—mmm!”

You can only groan in response as you thrust back in deep, her grip on your body tighter than ever. And it’s more than just her cunt; she’s clinging onto you for dear life.

It hardly matters when you’re leaving sore, red marks on her skin or ripping through the blankets. It hardly matters when Yuqi can barely breathe. It hardly matters when you’re so loud that everyone can hear you. What’s important is you’re fucking her—and you’re fucking her hard. You both love the filthiness to it. There’s no rhythm, no pace, no flow; it’s one slow deep thrust, followed by a fast pump into her tight, inviting cunt. You become comfortable; you take her like she’s meant to be used.

And Yuqi takes your cock so fucking well. Bounces against every stroke with ease, as if the feeling is second nature to her. Knowing her, she’s probably been in this position more than you’d want to know or hear. You don’t really care about that for now. Even after what seems to be an endless cascade of orgasms, she’s still keening, still needy, still soaking wet that it’s alarming. Her back arches, melts deep into the cushion. She still wants more.

“So—fucking—good—more—need—fuck—”

The only noise you need is the mesh of your flesh slapping against hers, bouncing against her sharp cries of pain and pleasure. Reaching into the deepest, most sensitive parts of her pussy with your cock, this violent shudder rocks both you and Yuqi to your core. With each drag, more of her slick coats your shaft, and the easier you get access to her smothering heat. You can’t find the will to stop, not that you ever want to; she feels so warm, so inviting, so sloppy sounding to the ears that it’s driving you just as crazy as her.

It’s also driving you wild why it took you this long to fuck her—use her—like this. If you had known, you would have cared sooner. You’d have some leverage when it came to negotiations. A body like hers is too good not to have on speed dial.

Right now, it’s the least of your concerns. Not when you’re pounding a tight body like Yuqi’s so freely, hearing her demand to fuck her harder, like your life’s depending on it. Better late than never.

And it’s for the best that the moment happens later rather than sooner. She cums. Cums again. Eventually you’ve stopped counting, because there’s no point. The mere thought of you restarts the cycle, and your touch accelerates the process. The clutch of her cunt is too overwhelming to avoid at this point; it’s all but directly telling you to fill her, to unload all that pent up tension and need into her. The thought never bubbled up in your head even once; the idea of you and Yuqi with a child together. You never really questioned it. She goes out often, probably gets fucked multiple times in one night if she’s with willing company. She probably knew you’d walk in on her; hell, she’s probably got this whole thing planned out and Minnie is one of her accomplices. Maybe the entire time, she’s been yearning for you, because you’ve never heard her this passionate, this loud, this filthy in your life, even at her most inebriated.

“Inside me. Please cum inside me. I’m safe, don’t worry,” she whispers, as if she’s reading through your mind, reassuring you from your doubts. Her hand is palming your back, as if to line you straight so your cock directly hits her sweet spot. She sounds so pretty, it’s almost impossible to resist.

“Gonna cum,” you tell her, voice going hoarse, rasp, and she nods immediately in return, reinforcing the notion. She’s focused her effort on holding on, her legs tightly wrapped around your waist, her arms coiled around your neck, subtly pushing you against her hips. 

“This—pussy—so—fucking—God,” you mindlessly utter, averting her doe eyed gaze, desperate to cling to the last of your resolve as it quickly dissolves with each thrust. You’re on borrowed time and it’s quickly slipping away. Yuqi is tilting your face down to her, to her airy breaths, to her fluttering eyelids, to her passionate expression as you fuck her, pushing you over the edge. “Holy fuck, Yuqi—”

Yuqi’s lips part like a flower in bloom, and it’s a pretty sight. Yet it’s not enough of a distraction to keep everything from falling into place.

And God, it fucking burns. 

You swallow hard, but are unable to keep that groan suppressed. Your hips meet her halfway, your cock comfortably buried deep in her heat, and that’s where you come undone. Yuqi digs deep into your skin as it fills her—your cum—and she goes frozen at that moment. It’s a quiet, tense flash of silence. Afterward, she finally breaks. Cries out this deafening whine, her grip all over you loosening, time eventually catching up to her. 

She lays beneath you, completely limp, but her body remains trembling, shaking, seizing. You don’t find the strength to drag your cock from her heat; the feeling lingers. Endless ropes of cum gushing into her womb, emptying yourself, just as she wanted. Then you pull out, agonizingly slow, and more viscous slick gushes from her core. 

You feel guilty for that poor patch of soaked linen between her legs. It’s about as ruined as a collapsed power plant.

There’s little need for Yuqi to beg you to stay. The climax saps whatever energy you had left. You end up slumping flat on your belly beside her, both of you bathed in the afterglow of sex, exhausted from an already long day, too worn out to make another sound. And when you’re tired, any bed, no matter how messy it may be, is a comfortable bed.

—————

You already expected the scene at the breakfast table to be awkward.

And it was.

It isn’t until Yuqi calls you out standing at the doorway of her room that you realize you’ve been shooting a thousand yard stare the whole time. She waves at you, her cheeks red, flustered, chuckling. “Good morning to you, I guess. Put something on. I don’t wanna drink coffee while looking at someone’s dick. It’s gross.”

This time you’re the one unbecoming, completely in the nude while she got herself into some pajamas. Despite that, you hardly feel any guilt or shame, like this is a normal occurrence in the household. So you scramble to your room and get appropriately dressed. A look at the time and it’s already 15 past ten in the morning, an hour later than when you normally start work. Even more unusual is the absence of the laptop. It’s just Yuqi and her coffee.

Sitting opposite Yuqi, today seems a bit more tense than normal, and you can guess the reason why. She knows it, too. Neither of you are willing to break the ice, only shooting occasional glares at each other while sipping on coffee and scrolling through your phones.

“So, Yuqi.”

The words slip from your mouth, accidental, nearly silent. They follow the mild screech of the chair she sits on. When you meet eye to eye, she asks what’s up. What's on your mind? There’s a sudden barrier in your throat. You have a vague idea of what to say, but not the power to speak them. 

“About last night—”

Her lack of response is unnerving. The visible curiosity, the probable apathy. You and her possibly sharing the same sentiment: a feeling of regret. 

“I—I just wanted to say sorry. For last night. I should have just—”

“Sorry for what?”

You suddenly stop. This is not the expected reaction; it’s the complete opposite. A moment where you face the consequences of your actions.

Yuqi stands up and walks over to your side, beaming from ear to ear. “What we did last night was—fucking amazing. Don’t feel bad. If anything, I should feel bad because I didn’t tip you off sooner. We could have done so much more.”

You don’t pick up on the implication right away. It’s all strange, uncharted territory. Your previous flings were simple one-and-dones: a night of reckless, frivolous fun. Short, but fun nonetheless. They would disappear in the morning, never to be seen again.

“I didn’t think you’d walk through that door, especially since it was three in the morning,” says Yuqi, casual, running her fingers through your hair. “I got a bit too silly, as usual, but there’s a good reason for it.”

“And that is?”

“I got a job!” Yuqi’s gripping to your shoulder, the only thing keeping her from jumping for joy. “I got a job at the cafe with the pretty lady. I start on Monday.”

It’s certainly a cause for celebration. You can’t help but root and smile for her, caressing her hands. “Well, damn. Congratulations.”

“Yeah!” Yuqi’s wrapped you in a rather heartwarming embrace that you willingly fold into. “I had the interview yesterday, so I needed to lock in. Needed to be alone. Then I got accepted after, so I went and bought some drinks to celebrate.”

That doesn’t surprise you one bit. You’re just thrilled that she’s finally getting somewhere.

“So—does that mean I can kick you out once you get your first paycheck?” you ask her.

“I guess so. But—” Yuqi pauses, tilts your chin on an incline. She’s warm, radiant, pretty. She doesn’t care that you’ve worded yourself poorly and you’re taking it back; she’s still riding off the high from yesterday. You’re already counting the days before she leaves, and admittedly, you’ll miss that sight. “I’m gonna miss staying with you. Thanks for having my back when I needed it. I honestly don’t know how I will ever repay you.”

She tops it up with a quick peck on your lips. It’s all over your face, etched completely in red. The devilish grin. 

“I think I know exactly how.”

And that’s all that needed to be said.

Before you know it, you’re right back at square one: clothes scattered everywhere on the floor, her body pressed on the mattress, flat on her belly, your cock stretching her pussy out as you fuck her mindlessly from behind. This time in the comfort of your own bedroom.

All the more reason for you two to stay together.

—————

(A/N: fucksorryforgoingonanotherhiatusfuckfuckfuck—)

(Okay, but I really do wanna apologize for going on yet another unannounced hiatus. Final weeks of the semester were hell, then I was on vacation the week I promised this fic would be released (I'm basically the LeBron James of K-smut when it comes to lying at this point), not to mention a health scare courtesy of my mother. Some very hard times have hit me lately, so my mind wasn't 100%. Nevertheless, I am still standing (shoutout Elton John). Lots of free time throughout June and July, so hopefully nothing bad happens ISTG lemme have some peace for once and let me fucking write goddammit—)

(In non-personal news, Yuqi's solo was very fun and she's getting on that Yena level of bias where she's the perfect blend of cute and hot. Then she went pink recently and that made me :pphurt: Sort of a feel out fic before I *finally* finish these commissions over the coming weeks, thank you for reading!)

[ewanmitchelll]

Imagine you can fix him. No, really, you can.

Warnings: drama, angst and (explicit) smut; long post; some canon divergence…

***

You’ve been raised at court as part of Princess Helaena’s retinue. Due to your noble status, this isn’t different any other lady of your station might’ve expected.

You have grown close to the princess, and the two of you are very good friends—more like sisters, truthfully. Due to your similar nature, both of you found yourselves reading, sewing and dancing when possible.

But as you grew, you eventually found another companion to spend your time at court with. The second wayward son of King Viserys, Lord Aemond.

Here’s how all it began…

***

• (I) Broken infancy.

Right after the mess where the Queen confronted her stepdaughter about what had happened between Rhaenyra’s offspring and Aemond, you opt to go after him.

It’s dark. It’s late and you should be elsewhere, but you pay little mind to these rules. You find Aemond outdoors, sitting in the stairs as if he’s contemplating quietly the price paid for losing an eye.

You think you hear a sniff, but you’re not sure. You wait until silence is absolute before making yourself announced.

“L-Lord Prince.”

Aemond turns abruptly, completely out of guard. He hates the vulnerability, but before he can come out with a snark response, you step forward and say:

“I do not mean to intrude. But… may I offer you company?”

The boy looks at you with distrust.

“What are your business here, Lady Y/LN? You should be with my sister.”

“I was worried about you…”

“I don’t need your pity”, and saying so he spits out.

“You don’t”, you agree calmly even if you’re shaken inside. “But everyone needs a friend.”

There is a small pause where you anxiously wait for him to give you some space. Eventually he does since there’s no one around.

“Well. Helaena doesn’t like many people, but here you are, the only one she actually spends time with”, mumbles Aemond.

You smile before taking a seat by his side.

“It appears so.”

Neither of you speak for a while. You know Aemond is still getting used to your company, so you speak nothing.

“I’m sorry”, you tell him.

The prince casts a look at this y/c haired lady of the house y/c dressed in the manner of the Hightower. Despite the remaining distrust in his eyes, you know he reads you.

What a process to forge a bond, and yet here you are.

“For what? You did nothing wrong.”

“No. But I lament for the loss you went through.”

“Well…”, and here he inclines his head towards the great shadow flying over the dark skies. “It was worth the dragon I reclaimed.”

“Like every Targaryen before you.”

Something about you said seems to knock his defenses down. However this isn’t something Aemond is prepared to admit. Yet.

***

• (II) Darkness & Light.

Aemond keeps an eye on you as much as you keep an eye on him. You’ve grown to a handsome woman, wearing gowns that reinforce your curves even though nothing in your actions deem other than innocence.

You and Helaena are almost twins. Could be so had you been birthed by Queen Alicent. Perhaps this is why Aegon looks down on you as much as he does to his sister-wife.

But the wayward, gloomy Prince, who at times opts to find his path towards his… whore, cannot divert away of you.

In fact, he is rather surprised to see you gravitating towards him just as he leaves the room.

“Y/N”, Aemond whispers your name, hands behind his back, not turning his head to welcome you… and because he hopes you don’t spot a slight, timid smirk that forms on his lips due to your presence.

“My dear Aem. Going to practice with Ser Criston again?”

You purposely link your arm to his, nudging his side playfully to tease him the way you know he doesn’t like.

But the prince can’t get rid of you, can he?

“Like always.”

“May I watch it?”

“If you want to.”

Aemond knows silence is not your best trait, something that he, in fact, appreciates.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been out of my sight again”, you muse, eyeing him closely.

He avoids your gaze, aware of what you talk about. But why does he feel a hint of shame knock his pride?

“Hum”, it’s all he says.

You sigh heavily. By how you breathe heavily, Aemond knows you are about to lose your temper.

“Don’t “hum” at me, Aemond Targaryen. You’ve been whoring again, haven’t you?”

To your surprise, he stops abruptly, turning at you in such a way that makes you blush. Aemond reads you, him too baffled when discovering you might actually have feelings for him.

How else would you feel so possessive towards me, Y/Nickname?

Today, your hair is tied in two perfectly braids. They are long enough to fall over your waist, Aemond notices. Your eyes are livid, he can tell the amount of repressed feelings that are behind the colour that paints them—and he is intrigued to know what these are.

You are chewing your bottom lip, a sign of nervousness—he never took you for an insecure person.

Are you afraid of losing me?

And then there’s something about the gown, green like always, that makes him want to rip it. He can tell your breasts are tied… and he wants to release the pressure this gown is making on them. Suddenly, comes to his mind a scene where he is sucking your nipples, rubbing one with his thumb all the whilst using his tongue to play with the other.

Perhaps you’d like that, Y/N. To be treated well. Perhaps you’d be a better replacement than my whore.

Indecent thoughts that he cannot sweep off his mind, but that his mind plays a good effort to it because you are a good precious damsel who doesn’t serve to be part of his dark, sinful self.

And yet… what he sees in you is the light that blinds him. Another sight he cannot lose. So he does what’s best of him to do: push people away.

“How does this concern you, Lady Y/N? You’ve been a good friend, but you are nothing more to me.”

Words that shouldn’t have come out this way. But they do. When seeing the hurt in your eyes, Aemond knows the weight of his lies. Suddenly, he realizes he wishes he could be saved.

And you, as his savior, have been pushed away.

“I am not quitting on you”, you wear your prideful mask, which intrigues him. “Still going to watch your practice though. Besides, I was only asking… because of your mother.”

Aemond cannot amend the awkwardness, but his mind screams at him for not bothering in doing so.

“I know.”

So he turns his back on you. And to his consternation, you stay.

*

Whilst Aemond practices with his sword, you shut yourself in your world. Your eyes are carefully down whenever a courtier passes by—you detest to get the male attention, not when you wish for more on Aemond’s part.

But you little foolish thing, he doesn’t want you. The prince sees you as a friend, is all. An extension of Helaena.

You struggle with your tears as this thought occurs you, but perhaps this isn’t so bad, is it? Duty often sacrifices sentiments. Perhaps you should tell your sister, Queen to be, that you are ready to marry and then… stay away of him for good.

But the courage in this decision soon dissipates the moment you raise your eyes and find Aemond staring at you.

And you know you’ve been trapped.

***

• (III) Scars.

You are about to slip under your blankets when the door of your bedchambers are abruptly opened. You are frightened when hearing the sound due to your exposed state: your line nightgown poorly covers your nipples and you still have no time to throw robes to cover yourself when he stands before you.

Distressed, anguished. In who he really is. In one broken state you’ve only seen once.

You forget yourself when you run to hold Aemond Targaryen in your arms.

“My love”, you whisper, letting him sob. “My prince”.

You pull him to yourself, the only one Aemond trusts with his being. The only one he knows he can be himself, with his scars and open vices. He clings onto you, he digs his fingers onto your waist, letting him be guided to your bed before burying his head against your belly.

You can only imagine what had struck him like this. A feast of demons over his head, each fighting for his flesh. And yet you are here, battling against them.

When he finally stops sobbing, he looks up at him. You’ve never seen him so fragile, so famine for affection. And here you are. Providing what he needs.

“Tell me all”, you whisper.

“I do not want to. You’ll find a monster in me”, and yet he holds onto your hips, fearful you’d let go of him.

“You are not a monster, Aemond. You may have some vices, but you are a human being like anyone else”, you tell him gently. “Come here.”

Aemond obeys you, sitting in front of you.

“Let me tend you”, you whisper. “I’ll prepare your bath.”

“Y/Nickname…”, he holds your wrist firmly.

“I won’t leave you. I won’t abandon you”, you assure him. “Do you trust in me?”

Aemond nods his head.

“My boy, then let me bath you. Besides”, and here you dress your best smile. “You smell like old dragon.”

Finally something that pulls out a smile of him. As he sits there, you are quick to fetch servants to prepare him a good bath. When you go back at him, Aemond gives you that intense look which gives you shivers.

And wets you in between your legs too.

But this isn’t the moment nor the time.

“Come. It’s ready.”

You lean against the wall of the privy quarters as Aemond starts to undress. Even though he is damaged for what he’s done, he likes to feel the weight of your gaze on him. And he smirks when he stands nude before you.

“I don’t think you’ve seen me like this”, he muses.

You don’t look away when he says so. Aemond feels a heat growing inside him.

“No, I don’t. Not physically anyway”, you point out.

“Don’t look away”, he asks.

You dare to scan his body with your discreet gaze, eyeing his well build muscles, attentive to his scars and… his manhood, which is now erected. And quickly you look away, blushing, as he chuckles.

“You’ve never seen one up before, my lady?”, he asks, sliding into the tub.

You gently knee behind him and get to rub his back with a sponge.

“Do not take me to your whore, Aemond”, you snap at him.

The prince smiles at it. He lets you clean him before he dives into the water. When coming back to the surface, the prince is disappointed for not seeing you there.

A moment later, though, when he’s dressed in clean clothes, says Aemond with a subtle accusation tone:

“You left me there for one moment…”

“You surely can handle yourself as you finished you bath. I am only your friend, wasn’t that what you called me?”

Aemond sighs.

“Y/Nickname, I shouldn’t have said that.”

He comes at you and rests his arms around your waist, his chin on your shoulder. When you side look at him, you spot that old fragility rarely seen.

It’s what melts you down.

“Very well. Come here. Let me tend you”, and now back to your bed, you and him lace your fingers together, his head in between your breasts. “What did you do, Aemond?”

You stroke his hair with your loose hand, aware that he’d done something bad. But where others see him ruthless, you see a broken boy trying to find his worth in this misadjusted world.

“I…”, his embargoed voice has your attention.

“Yes?”, you lift his chin, now cupping his face; removing his eyepatch, you gently force him to look at you.

And here comes a tear.

“I killed him. But I didn’t mean to.”

“Who?”

But you know the answer.

“…Lucerys.”

Old wounds that never close… bleed endlessly. You sigh heavily, but rest your forehead against his.

“You shouldn’t have done that, my dear”, you speak softly.

“I understand.”

“But I won’t abandon you, you know that, do you?”, you hope to transmit him that, regardless of this sinful secret he shared with you, together you two are stronger.

“You are the only one who knows my weakness”, he buries his head against your neck, needy of you, weak and feeble. Fragile. “Do not dare to leave me.”

“You have always been sacred to me to be profaned now, Aemond”, you whisper.

He leans his body close to yours, transfixed by your irradiating beauty… and your unending loyalty.

The prince touches your face and you tilt your head, letting his slander fingers brush over your face and then going down to your neck. You partly wish that he goes below… a perception he sees evident in your eyes.

Aemond knows he’s as vulnerable as you. And yet his hand moves to your collarbone, unlacing your nightgown.

“So beautiful. You look as if I can be redeemed.”

“You can”, you lean closer, not minding how purposely your breasts slip out of the line. Your eyes remain locked with his all the whilst you take his face with your hands. “You can be redeemed.”

Aemond waits no further: his dragon fire awakes and he is about to burn you. You welcome his hungry lips thus, sighing in content as he crawls over your body, ripping impatiently your gown, promptly reclaiming you the same way he did Vhagar.

You subdue easily to him, letting him have his way to you. That his lips make his kiss ache every part of you gets a moan out of you, which in turn makes Aemond smirk.

You are mine and mine alone. I possess you, I take you as who you are, my lady Y/N.

Such are his thoughts, which you need naught to have the ability to read them; for they are readable in his tight grip of you, in how his tongue dominates yours along with his body.

Trapped under his dominance, you are found breathless and a puddle of mess when he parts the kiss to let slid his tongue over your jawline and neck, his fingers now pulling your hair gently, tangled in your curls.

Then he stops what he’s doing to contemplate your state under candlelight. And here he smirks.

“Divine you are, my lady. How can a man like me be worthy of a woman like you?”

You sensually lift your legs to pull him by his hips as you adjust your body so his can mould better in it. You like the lust in his eyes, one of the kind that doesn’t conceal his vices nor his virtues… one that shows his genuine feelings to you.

“You deserve all the love in the world, my dear Aemond. Let me heal you”, you stroke his cheeks, smiling gently.

“A flower soon to be deflowered by a rogue”, he sneers under his breath, but there’s no despise in his eyes, only the same old scars.

“I am your woman”, you tell him, and he’s surprised to find in you the same possessiveness there is in him. “I am not any flower, though.”

Aemond smirks. Whatever insecurities laid behind his good eye, now they are no more.

“You shall be more than that, darling”, he brushes his lips against yours, biting your bottom lip not long after. “My consort, mother of my heirs.”

As if to assure you he means every word, he not only kisses your neck and gets a few moans out of you, but leaves some bruises there. You’ve been marked.

Aemond, however, cannot take out of his thought the idea of corrupting you. Though it flings him with some guilt, the way your legs are wrapped around him, your bodies so perfectly moulded that leaves no doubt that it is hardly sinful what’s to be done.

You may spot some of it, so to assure him there’s no question of the legitimacy of the deed, you put yourself under him properly so he looks down at you… and yet your hand takes hold of his erect manhood.

“Y/N!”, he gasps in surprise.

You give him a malicious smirk at the same time there is nothing to encounter in your gaze that is not innocence itself. Inexperience you may be, but you have ears that long heard of maids doing so with their partners.

But to feel his cock responding well to your moves is a positive indicator that you are doing it well.

“My lady!”, he wants to stop you, but fuck it it’s so damn good. Aemond rolls his eye, almost falling over you. “You should not…”

“I want you”, you whisper in the back of his ear as you caress his face and hair with your free hand. “Carnally, emotionally, all that is between. I want my prince Aemond Targaryen the way he really is.”

It’s enough to wipe out any reasonable thought he may have in regarding preserving you of such naughtiness. Aemond lets out the repressed lust for you, his sentiments towards his lady—of the kind only his whore knew about—, and bloody seven hells… you know how to make him feel good!

All the whilst you enjoy feeling his precum getting your hand soaked, and twirling your thumb around the tip like he instructs you to—the very fact he’s the one teaching you also arouses him quite.

“Fuck”, and he growls against your skin, burying himself into your breasts, biting your nipples and sucking each ardently with the devotion of a lover.

So you too welcome a different sensation of bliss, a pleasure never before felt, hitting on your in waves of heat that get your body out of control. It does “worsen”, though, the moment he does to you what you do to him.

Aemond captures the surprise that flashes behind your eyes when he finds you soaked to the core. And then… not deeming to waste his seed, he takes your hands and pins over your head.

As his thighs are over yours, you see this handsome man towering over you. His well build muscles, his handsome manhood…

“Do you like the view, Princess?” Aemond asks gently, though the way he looks at you there’s nothing innocent or gentle.

And he sees how your body reacts. Which only arouses him further.

“Yes”, you are almost breathless. “Please, do not make me beg.”

Aemond chuckles low, hands wrapping around your neck.

“Oh, but aren’t you begging already, my love?”

And then he releases the pressure by inserting another finger in your womanhood.

“Mm. You like that, do you not?”, Aemond groans as you deliberately give yourself to him, a complete mess. He likes the view, to know he ruined you too.

And then he bends over… only to slowly insert his manhood into you.

“Oh Gods!”

Aemond side smirks at you.

“It’s going to be a long night, Princess Y/N.”

And to seal his promise, he pursuits your lips in a passionate kiss.

***

• (IV) The Great Escape.

As you stand quietly in the royal chambers, you detect grey clouds rumbling in the sky. You furrow your eyebrows at the sight, perceiving it as a bad omen.

It’s when Helaena comes at you, so suddenly and silently that you are almost startled by her presence.

“I see the boy”, she whispers at you, the only one who understands her. “He will conquer all.”

“Do you mean any of your brothers?”, you ask in the same tone.

Helaena smiles quietly, though in her eyes you detect a mix of apprehension and concern. You know she hesitates, so you hope to transmit calmness.

“Laena, do not fear. I shall keep your secret with me”, and you point to your heart.

She looks at your hands before giving a look at the horizon. You give her time. Then she turns her head and says:

“He shall not be king until other dies”, another pause. “You should not be here when Aegon becomes king.”

You are more than aware that Aegon is not really fond of you.

“Is war coming, dear Laena?”, you ask.

“No”, and here she smiles. “Not for you nor Aemond.”

You have the decency to blush. You’d think your secret encounters with Aemond remained a secret, but didn’t you underestimate your closest friend?

“I…”

“Do not apologize. You’ve brought him the light out of him.”

And in her own way of saying thanks, Helaena rests her head against your shoulder. So suddenly the announce of storm is dissipated… and your fears, likewise.

*

But before this light prevails, it is yet the time to cross the dark. Therefore, you are not entirely surprised to find Aemond vulnerable again. It’s late night and he comes for you in seek of solace. The one kind he’s been refused by his family.

Aemond slides through the half open door, already suspicious in not finding your privy chambers completely close. Hearing voices, a fang of jealousy threatens to bring out his worse when he comes to find out you and Helaena have been spending time together.

It is a relief, somewhat one that makes him smirk, to seeing you getting along with his family. Not that he cares about it, but…

He waits until Helaena is gone to surprise you. You are wearing a pink gown with details in pink and are just untying your braid, completely unaware of his silent presence.

Aemond is reclining against the wall, watching you remove the courtly garments that you wear daily, noticing in your distracted face different expressions he is used to see in you.

“You look exhausted”, his voice comes out as a single whisper right as you are caught off guard and almost crying out as a result. “What’s wrong?”

“Aemond!”, you yell. “Are you out of your mind? Always like a rat, aren’t you?”

He chuckles at your reaction, moving to where you stand so he can have you all to himself. You melt instantly in his arms, but then quickly recompose when noticing that vulnerability only you spot on.

“Wait. What happened?”

“You didn’t answer my question”.

You know it’s pointless to argue with him so you shrug your shoulders and say:

“Just tired, is all.”

You don’t think wise to tell that lately you’ve been having strange morning sickness, so you motion to fetch yourselves some wine before getting at him.

“Now your turn.”

Aemond doesn’t buy your lie, though. But taking the wine offered, he opts to keep that in his mind for a moment later.

“I’ve met the Strong boys.”

“Oh.”

And here comes the thunder…

“What do you mean by “oh”? I’ve been teased out and about, Y/N”, says a very moody Aemond. “Jacaerys and Joffrey think they can have their way out?”

And here he comes to burst in tears. That broken boy hasn’t been healed nor taken care of. You put your glass aside and move to embrace him. Like a needy child, he comes for support which you give him without second thoughts.

“What happened then?”

“A fight was only prevented because of my mother. She welcomed Rhaenyra and her bastards here.”

You let him burst out his anger, silent and pained, as you hold him. In moments like this is when he undress the rogue mask he often wore to public; -and it’s here his fragility is seen, which leads to a more intimate moment.

“You don’t feel at peace here.”

“No”, Aemond admits. “Not here not anywhere. But I aim to reclaim Harrenhal.”

A stranger shiver crosses your spine and even the prince feels it. He looks up at you, quizzically so.

“What was that?”

“Oh, the shiver? You felt it too?”, you try to make a joke about it. “So tight you felt it as if it were you, uh?”

But Aemond is serious.

“I am not joking, Y/N.”

“I had a bad feeling about this. You know the stories of Harrenhal.”

Now the silver haired man chuckles.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Dragons could be a myth, and were treated as such before the Conquest by the Westerosi. And yet here they are”, you tell him firmly. “Stories contain a degree of truth. I did my homework.”

“I can tell.” And softening, he rises to cup your face and kiss your nose and lips. “I did not wish to distress you. But I cannot stay here any longer,Y/N.”

“Well…”, and you smile as you rest your forehead against his. “Let us runaway, Aemond. Together.”

“To where?”, Aemond isn’t sure about the idea, but this possibility does bring some relief to him.

“The Free Cities”, you decide. “You aren’t the first Targaryen who flees King’s Landing to locate somewhere there. Essos is one of those who traditionally welcomes these Valyrian kind.”

Aemond chuckles, pleasantly surprised by your wit.

“We need little convincing, don’t we?”

“It is what you need most, my beloved. Some peace of mind and spirit will do you well.”

So the plan is architected. And the promised consolation shall come.

*

Yet, night arises and with it, demons that come to dispute over royal flesh. Aemond is tormented by his nightmares. As he watches you sleep peacefully, he envies your serenity.

Part of him riots against the idea of being with you. Running away sounds coward-ish and the ilidic paradise is an idea fit for poets and story tellers.

Reclining against the wind, naked, he is vulnerable and to feel it only makes him feel irc about it.

It’s when you notice the bed getting colder. As you turn around, you see you are alone once again. You almost panic at the idea of him leaving you, but this is wiped out of your mind when seeing the state he is.

“Aemond”, you don’t mind the clothes. “Come to bed”, you rest your chin over his shoulder. Suddenly you notice how tall he is.

He tries to avoid your gaze, but it is difficult to ignore you when you recline your body, so warmt, against his. In a stark contrast of fire and cold, he is like an ice berg to you.

“Please”, you ask him.

Aemond turns at you at last and acquiesces with your request. Silently he follows you, but he doesn’t sleep straight away.

“You are worthy of love”, you tell him, cuddling him. “You cannot ignore the wounds that hurt you.”

“I fear I am incapable of healing”, Aemond whispers, a tear rolling down his cheek. “How can you conceive the idea of us together, Y/N?”

“You can be saved.”

He snorts, eyes closing as he slowly drifts to sleep under your tenderness.

“Maybe I do not want to be saved.”

“To be saved or to be redeemed. Is there any difference? Sleep my life. The night may be long and full of terrors, but light always comes to win over it.”

You’d think Aemond had fallen asleep as you take the blankets and cover yourselves, but as you too lie down, your hear him say:

“I love you, Y/N.”

You smile warmly because this is the first time he admits it out loud. Wiping away your happy tears, you lean to kiss his forehead.

“I love you too, Aemond Targaryen.”

*

Indeed, funny as it is, you are now officially part of the House Targaryen. Daeron and Helaena had been the only witnesses of the ceremony that made you officially Lord Aemond’s wife.

“Welcome to our family”, greets Daeron. “Just hope one does not notice the mess we are.”

“Oh, nothing too different of my own family, my lord.”

“Lord?”, Daeron scoffs. “We are family now, sister. There is little need to use formalities.”

Aemond smiles quietly when spotting a blush turning your cheeks into crimson. And speaking of informalities, Helaena welcomes you in her own way. To a general surprise, she in fact hugs you close before saying:

“Never forget. A king will come soon. To conquer all. The line must carry on.”

And then she takes Daeron away, leaving you baffled.

“What did she say?”, asks Aemond, curious.

“I’m afraid this time I didn’t understand what she meant, husband.”

“Well”, he shrugs his shoulders. “Not many of us do. Ready, my lady?”

You smile warmly and the sight makes Aemond content. Sun is rising in the horizon when he helps you mount old Vhagar.

And when she is ready to fly, you cling tight in your husband like a monkey.

“Oh my Gods!”

He laughs away. Never before he laughed so unpreocuppied, so carelessly, so free.

You know it. You feel it too. For when you look at him, you could tell how successfully you fixed him. Didn’t you?

***

• (V) Essos.

You may think you are brave for riding Vhagar, but braver so for mounting your husband. Now that you have enough trust to do so, you come to find out that is a lot better than in your wildest dreams.

“Oh Gods!”, and like any other day you are louder,a sound the servants are already used by now. “Aemond!”

It’s been three months since you and Aemond settled in Essos, and ever since the city not only welcomed you two properly like the royalty both of you are, but is also becoming the stage to Aemond’s ambitions—to which you turned a blind side to.

“So good, my wife!”, Aemond groans, pleased like always to see your boobs bouncing and how synced his body and yours are in one single move.

But domineering he is, so in a matter of seconds you are under his power again, a “victim” of his intense thrusts. And as he seeds you, it’s only then he comes to notice the changes of your body. Your breasts are bigger, you are curvier and your appetites… are different too.

As he collapses against your side, Aemond holds you close to him, though. Stroking your hair and helping to straighten it after messing you good, he smiles.

“I cannot believe myself when I recall the enormous quantity of years that took for us to get married.”

“You are slower than I’d assumed to be, husband”, you tease him, earning a few tickles.

“Life here isn’t as bad as it seems, though”, Aemond contemplates after kissing your forehead. “I think we can rebuild our life here in the manner of Westeros.”

You know there are certain ambitions that do not die, no matter the efforts in healing scars. It’s a side of his character that you’ve always accepted. Then you are reminded of Helaena’s prophecy and somehow you made your peace with it.

“Indeed, I…”

Oh no. Not that nauseous morning again! In a matter of seconds you are running to your privy quarters and throw all that you’ve ingested earlier the day… out.

When Aemond rushes after you, though, he doesn’t take too long to realize that an heir is coming. At last.

“My dearest wife”, he kneels after you. “Let me help you. The way you help me.”

For the first time in years he sees your vulnerability, your fragility. You try to conceal it, but he doesn’t allow you to shy away.

“Y/N… Do not be stubborn”, he helps you clean. “There is nothing wrong with it. Do you not realize what does this mean?”

When you give him a quizzical look, the prince chuckles.

“I cannot believe that I am the one to tell you… but you are carrying our child, my love.”

News that would come to change your lives…. But others too.

***

• Epilogue.

Three years later.

You are giving birth again—the price you pay for delighting yourself by engaging in marital affairs with your handsome prince—when news come from King’s Landing.

Aemond is holding baby Rhaella in his arms all the whilst watching his son, Aegon, practice sword ship. He’s very prideful over his eldest son taking so much after him where brain matters are concerned—and abilities too—, but the sweet temper is something the boy takes after you.

“See, Rhae? Your brother is going to protect you just fine”, Aemond smiles before kissing his daughter’s head.

She giggles, a sight he adores to behold, but every smile dies when a messenger dressed in green comes in.

“My lord Prince”, this young lad greets Aemond, sounding somewhat nervous.

“Who is this? Sent by mother, I presume.”

The lad delivers him an old parchment. When opening it carefully, the prince frowns.

“What does this mean?”

“There is war in Westeros, Ser. And King Aegon has summoned you.”

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Playboy ways

A/N: This is for the lovely anon who asked for this specific prompt - “Come on, Tony Stark, show me your playboy ways.” Hope you enjoy reading this one. Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you did.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Ex-wife! Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, and angst.

Word count: 2.1k

Tony Stark Masterlist

.

It all started off when he walked into your home with that slut of a woman. It was typical for him post your divorce, you’d scoffed at the bouncy blonde who giggled in the most irritating manner at everything Stark said.

The audacity of the man to traipse in with his latest fling angered you beyond anything. He was doing it to get that very reaction which he was getting at that moment.

You were hosting brunch at your new home, the one you had bought all on your own after you and Tony separated. It felt incredibly overwhelming to start over but you also realized how much you needed it. That didn’t mean you didn’t miss your ex-husband from time to time. You did.

He seemed to have moved on pretty okay by the looks of it. Then again, the man had a reputation before you started dating. It wouldn’t have been a fish out of water situation for him exactly.

The team had arrived on time, except for one. You knew he liked to make an entrance. And that infuriating bastard had the balls to show up with a plus one without checking with you first. Sure it had been a year and he was free to do whatever he wanted, but this was your house, and your rules applied.

Nat squeezed your hand reassuringly as you glared daggers at the pair, noticing the tight grip on your wine glass.

“Do you want me to go talk to him?” She asked, stepping in your line of vision.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll do it.” You huffed, finishing your wine before excusing yourself. If you could, you would drag both their asses out of your house.

He was busy chatting with Steve and Bucky with the blonde attached to his arm.

“Y/N! We haven’t spoken in forever. Do join us.” Tony piped, while the girl eyed you from top to bottom, sizing you up with a look of mild disdain.

“Glad you made it, Stark. And your friend.” You offered a fake smile, which nobody bought.

“Great house, Y/N.” Steve offered kindly, uncomfortable with the air of discomfort.

“Yeah, love what you’ve done to the place.” Bucky stepped in, giving your shoulder a friendly squeeze.

“Thank you guys. I’ll give you a tour later but first, I need a word with you, Tony.” You stared directly at him, causing him to clear his throat awkwardly and give you a firm nod.

Just as you were about to leave, you saw the girl tagging along with her arms wrapped around your ex-husband.

“Uh, I'd like to have a word with him in private. If you don’t mind.”

“But I’m his girlfriend.” She chirped, making you almost scoff but you stopped yourself from reacting.

“We used to be married.”

That seemed to have shut her up as her hands dropped to her sides. This was brand new information for her, you realized, rolling your eyes as you began making your way towards your bedroom upstairs.

Hearing the click of the door behind you, you felt Tony’s overbearing presence, turning around to face him while taking a deep breath to ground yourself.

“The house looks pretty good, Y/N. It screams you.” Tony smiled, looking around the space, as if analyzing what parts of your personality he could see.

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing a date, Tony. A head’s up would’ve been appreciated.” Your tone was flat as you crossed your arms over your chest, staring at the man whose eyes immediately landed on yours as you spoke.

“I’m…sorry?”

You scoffed, shaking your head.

“Are you really? The invite was supposed to be just us. The team.”

He shrugged, stepping closer and letting his eyes wander down your body. You hated the fact that he still had the same effect on you as he did all those years ago. Your skin flushed as his eyes raked down your lips, your neck, the dress that teased just enough of your breasts without being too revealing.

“You have a wine stain on that dress, by the way. You’re gonna have to take it off.” He murmured, ignoring what you’d said completely.

He was right.

A stray drop of wine had made itself known right above your left breast, a purple-ish red mark prominent against the light coloured fabric.

You went into your en-suite, trying to wipe it off fruitlessly. Groaning in frustration, you pulled the dress over your head and threw it in the hamper, well aware of the fact that your ex-husband was probably getting a good show.

“Hey how about that red dress I got you?” He suggested, snooping around in your closet as if he owned the place.

“How about don’t snoop in my closet? Try respecting someone’s privacy for once.”

You gave him a nudge, wearing only your underwear, feeling his burning gaze on your back.

“Ouch.”

“How come there’s no picture of us?” Tony wondered out loud, pointing to the several frames you had hanging on the wall adjacent to the bed. There were many with your family, your cousins, the entire team, a few with the supersoldiers who had been your best friends.

“You really want me to hang a picture of us just to be reminded how much of a mess the whole thing was?” You said bitterly, seeing hurt flash across his face for a moment. It made your heart pang guiltily.

“Are you saying there’s not one fond memory you’d like to keep?”

His question made you pause, your heart twisted in pain as your mind flooded with a whole bunch of memories you had pushed down for the sake of your sanity.

“I—why are we doing this now? I came here to tell you that the girl stuck to your side is unwelcome in my house. So please take her and fuck off.”

Your voice wavered slightly as you spoke, finally picking out the same red dress Tony had mentioned earlier before storming in the bathroom.

Tony was quick to follow on your steps, stopping you from slamming the door on him. He grabbed your shoulders and backed you up against the vanity counter.

“What?”

“So angry, Y/N. I still find that so fucking hot.” He murmured, his face inches away from yours, his intoxicating scent was overwhelming to your senses.

“Typical Stark.” You rolled your eyes, trying to push him away but he didn’t budge. Instead, he chose to press you further against the marble counter, all of his body brushing yours, making his erection meet your heated core.

“I hate you.” You glared, wishing your body wouldn’t react the way it did to his infuriating man.

“Right back at ya.”

Tony grabbed your face and slanted his lips on yours, taking you by surprise at the intensity of the kiss.

He coaxed your mouth open and plunged his tongue inside, sucking onto yours with such force it bordered on pain and pleasure. Your fingers tugged on his hair sharply, making him grunt.

A heady mix of champagne, berries and that unmistakable hint of coffee that comprised all that was Tony took over your body like no time had passed. You moaned against his lips as his hips moved on their own accord, teasing you as you felt his clothed cock against your thin, panty-covered core that was growing wetter with every passing second.

His lips trailed down your neck, nipping at your warm skin all while his hands slid down your body, tracing every curve and dip like he remembered. Finally stopping between your legs, he teased his finger over your panties, finding them damp with your eagerness.

“I’m starting to believe you’ve missed me, Y/N.” he grinned, pulling them aside to expose you to him.

“I will slap that smug grin off your face, Stark.” You muttered, sounding out of breath just from the kissing.

“Do it. You know I love it when you’re rude.” He peeled the fabric off of you, letting it dangle around your ankles before slipping two fingers inside you without warning.

“You’re impossible.” You gasped at the intrusion, the stretch of his fingers achingly familiar.

“Mmhmm. Your impossible ex-husband, kiss my neck.”

Tony ordered urgently, his hips stuttering against your palm as you stroked him over his pants.

You obliged, but grazed your teeth against his skin to give him a little bite, making him cuss under his breath.

With wanton need, you unbuckled his belt and rid him of his pants, giving him a few slow pumps. You smirked as Tony let out a needy whine when you left his weeping cock.

“Missed me huh?”

You blinked innocently, the reaction only lasted a few seconds because Tony abruptly made you turn around and bent you over the counter. Your heart thudded against your ribcage, breath erratic as you waited for him to do something. You were getting impatient, your cheek pressed against the cold surface while his hands trailed down your spine, leaving goose pimples in their wake.

Growing antsier by the minute, you wiggled your hips back, hoping he’d get the hint. A sharp sting pinched your buttcheek as his palm landed on the soft flesh, making you cry out loud. One followed the other, making you clench around nothing as you bore the brunt of his punishment.

“I still own this body, don’t I?” He whispered, caressing your cheeks tenderly. You bit your bottom lip, thinking just how immediately your inner voice had answered ‘yes’ to that question.

“Answer me, sweetheart.”

Shaking your head, you decided to defy him some more. When you didn’t answer, he lined himself up against your entrance, gathering your slick on his length before slamming into you until he bottomed out.

“Liar.” His whisper traveled straight to your core, clamping around his length as he continued with his agonizing pace.

Living with Tony Stark had never been easy. The man lived a life that hardly anyone could comprehend. You tried. Unfortunately it got to a point where you had to choose, and you chose to step away and focus on your wellbeing. You were still to forgive him for what he put you through.

Still, the passion and love you felt for the man hadn’t fizzled out. Maybe now it had morphed into something else, and you certainly weren’t complaining. If anything, the man was an absolute freak in bed. And you knew things were cloudy and perhaps morally grey, yet you still hadn’t learnt to resist the man.

Letting out a frustrated groan, you looked over your shoulder as Tony refused to move.

“What? Are you afraid I’ll break? Come on Tony, show me your playboy ways.”

That seemed to flip a switch in him. Grabbing both your hands roughly, he held them behind your back, dragging his cock out of your snug walls and pushed back in, brutally. He began thrusting in and out of your heat with such intensity, the surface of the counter dug into your skin, bruising it.

“Is this what you wanted?” He panted, gripping your hair with the other hand, spearing into you as he spoke.

“I think it is what you wanted. You kissed me, remember?” You countered, mewling when he slapped your butt once again.

“Didn’t throw me out, did you?”

“I still can’t stand your stubborn ass.” You bit your lip hard enough to hurt as he continued pounding into you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Me neither, sweetheart.”

His cock hit all the right spots going in, making you see stars. You couldn’t do much other than take all that he was giving you, completely at his mercy. He felt your thighs twitch, knowing instantly you were close.

Leaving your hair momentarily, Tony reached around to rub your clit in circles to speed up your orgasm, never stopping his ministrations as you came hard around his length, screaming loud enough for people to hear.

He wasn’t far along, your walls clenched around him desperately, making him twitch inside and pull out in time to paint his cum on your lower back.

Still the gentleman, he cleaned you up and helped you dress, not speaking a word as reality set in.

“So…are you going to kick her out or should I?” Your voice had turned softer now, as you got dressed, fixing your hair and makeup as best as you could.

“You do it, please. I’d rather watch.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

So I 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: your casual arrangement turns a bit too serious.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The extra money makes the after-hours work a little less sluggish. It will be worth it when you get the deposit. Even so, you’re only human and the needling between your brow pangs deeper and deeper. 

You can’t help but mourn your free time. You haven’t been to the gym in more than a week and most nights you fall asleep without dinner. It’s a stepping stone. Once you have a handle on things, it won’t be as bad. 

You yawn and lean your head in your hands. You glance up through the transparent walls of your office. Those in the shared space are long gone. There might be a few other execs like yourself left but otherwise, it’s desolate. It’d be peaceful if traffic wasn’t rushing and honking below. 

You rub your nose and sit up. As you do, your door swings open, jarring you so your chair squeaks shrilly. You blather out nonsense as Bucky strides in. His hair is sweaty and slightly askew and his metal arm is on full show as the left sleeve of his jacket has been removed to accommodate it. You haven’t seen him often in anything other than his faded tees and jeans. 

“Oh, hey, uh...” you blink and fix the tilt of your seat. “What are you, em, doing here?” 

He snickers and strolls around your office. He stops at the shelf mounted on the wall and toys with the little golden rose in a crystal vase. It’s one of the few pieces of decor you’ve moved in. 

“I was in the neighbourhood,” he plucks out the stem and admires it. “Working late? Again?” 

“You too.” You sit back to watch him. You cross one leg over the other and angle your head coyly. 

A ripple washes over you at the memory of your last time together. He was so rough and demanding. He’d kept you up all night, and in the morning, you as good as pushed him out your door. Something’s changed. Something you don’t quite like. 

“Oh, don’t play casual with me. I can hear your heartbeat jumping just like you wanna jump out of your panties,” he scoffs. 

You roll your eyes, “How many time do I have to--” 

“You say it but what woman doesn’t want a man who knows exactly what she’s thinking?” He interjects. 

“Like you do.” You shake your head and fold your arms. 

“Ah, come on, it’s been a while.” 

“I know. I’ve been busy. Working.” You pull your arms apart and roll closer to your desk. 

“I just got off myself so why don’t we get off together,” he twirls the rose as he nears. “Pull that skirt up, gimme a peek.” 

“Right. I really don’t have time. Sorry.” You look back to the screen as he stands just on the other side of the desk. Sweat beads in your scalp as he lurks there. He drops the artificial flower on the wood and huffs. 

“Strange. You’re too busy for me. Suddenly. Weren’t too busy a couple weeks ago. I seem to remember some begging,” he laughs. 

“Would you quit?” You sniff and look up at him, folding your hands atop each other. “This isn’t a game for me. I can’t fuck this up. Look, we had fun. It’s been fun but I don’t think I can do this anymore. It’s... too much.” 

He’s quiet. He slowly leans down and plants his fingertips on the desk. He stares you down and you look up at him cautiously. A divet forms between his brows. 

“You can’t break up with me. We’re just fucking, so save the it’s not yous, it’s mes,” he hisses. 

“Exactly. We’re not breaking up, Bucky, because this was only ever sex, so please, just go. Find someone who give you what you want. Once you figure that out.” 

His cheeks tauten and his jaw squares. “Don’t flatter yourself.” 

“I’m not trying to hurt you--” 

“Hurt? Like you said.” He pushes himself away and the desk lurches. “It isn’t a relationship. Just a dirty, nasty hook-up.” He paces around your office. “The way I had you on your knees. Fuck, the way you wagged your ass for me. Good times.” He stops and claps his hands as he faces you again. “One last hurrah, how about it?” 

You sigh. You shift uneasily and grunt as you try to put your desk straight. It’s just another reminder of how he can do more. 

“I don’t think so.” You look up at him. “You need to go.” 

“Really? I came all the way here.” 

“I didn’t ask you to--” 

“I know you didn’t fucking ask but you were desperate for me every other time, weren’t you? Don’t act like you never wanted me.” He charges forward and you press yourself against your chair. You gulp and bat your lashes. He stops short and snorts. “Relax. What am I gonna do, huh? What did I ever do but exactly what you begged me to do?” 

He throws his hands up and shoves the air. 

“Enjoy your fucking soul-sucking job.” He twists on his heel and marches to the door. He lingers in the frame as he turns his head, his profile shadowy in the dim light of the outer offices. “See how far it gets you.” 

He storms out, leaving you stunned. You rehearsed it over and over. What you would say, how you would say it. You saw him laughing it off. You saw him shrugging and sighing. That was more than you could predict.  

It was him who insisted it was nothing from day one. You agreed because that was easy. Now it feels a lot more complicated. Or rather, did. 

[fillinforlater]

Two Selfies and a GIF

Male Reader x Naoi Rei

Length: 2341 words

Tags: lovers on vacation, teasing and tempting, public sex, blowjob, overstimulation, face fuck, gagging, standing sex, anal, sweat, body appreciation, anal creampie, thrill of maybe getting caught

TW: sex in a public space, also barely any editing

Inspiration: an ask from quite some time ago

(A/N: I hope this fic makes you say Holy Moly. @writerpeach because he wanted another Rei piece lol)

“Another sunny day! <3 Hope to see you all soon~”

You jump from your bed. Most of the time, you have no clue where the feeling of deja vu comes from, but this one is still palpable. A year ago, you were on vacation with Rei on some warm, small island nation, blessed with endless sunshine and she sent a similar selfie with a similar caption. Her hair was still brown back then, if your memory serves you right. 

Unlike last time however, you can’t dig straight into her cute pussy. Rei is not on the bed beside you, although that’s where she took the picture. In fact, she’s not even in the hotel room anymore. You check the washroom a final time before looking back down on your phone.

“Where are you?”

“By~ the~ pool~”

The phone has yet to disappear in the pockets of your shorts when you’ve already stormed out of the empty hotel room and towards the elevators. Alright, she said something about going to the pool, you remember, but you didn’t even notice that she took the selfie earlier. Hopefully this won’t end in a chase of never ending teases because you missed the moment she was horny and right next to you. 

You jump out of the elevator and across the lobby, both staff and visitors confused by your hurried, hectic behavior given the calm, vacation atmosphere. Your urgent need to feel your girlfriend's body, to see that face, adorned by beautiful blonde hair, with thick lips and a lewd glint in her eyes, it’s easily overtaking your desire of being perceived as normal. 

“By the pool isn’t accurate enough,” you puff and pant while your eyes go over the many, many pools and parasols and people. It seems Rei isn’t in the water or on one of the loungers, so you once again reach for your phone—just to be greeted by a couple of private messages.

“Still need you to fill these cheeks~ or did you mean my other cheeks?!”

The wink, the tongue bite, the v-pose. She can never post this picture or else all those horny fanboys would blow infinite loads to it (not like they aren’t already doing it; don’t kid yourself). It’s sexy, tempting, only meant for you. You know what she wants, what she needs, what you promised her, yet she continues to play with you.

Until suddenly, another message. A third selfie? Even better.

“I hope you remember where this is~”

The changing booths by the pool. The unmistakable brown walls and baby blue curtains. Rei has complained about their design choice on the day of your arrival, now she’s there doing tik-tok-instagram-dance-challenge-thingys, flaunting what you’ve been craving. Needless to say you sprint there as fast as possible, disregarding all the warning signs about slipper tiles or blissfully ignorant tourists. 

You’re on your way to bliss, and nothing will stop you.

Rei sticks out among the few people in the area. Her tall figure, her blonde hair, not a second later and you get a hold on her shoulders and drag her into the next booth. The Japanese girl doesn’t even seem fazed. 

“There you are,” she sultrily says, eyes on yours through the mirror wall. Good heavens, you forgot about that thing. It’s going to be so much fun. With a single swoop you close the curtain and take a closer look at Rei’s fuckable body through the mirror.

“You look to good not to fuck,” you groan and pinch her cheeks, looking at her duckface, mesmerized by how plump her lips are, how good they will feel. Rei winks again and your hand is already past the waistband of your shorts. “Get on your knees, now.”

Rei’s smile is horny when she pulls down your shorts while getting on eye level with your cock, which jumps free and barely, sadly misses her face with the removal of your briefs. Rei spits in her hand and pumps you, focused on every inch of your hot rod. Suddenly, before any annoyance can urge you to do it yourself, she puts you on her lips. A heavy push that sends you back against the wall later, you're inside her and have to bite a lip to not groan out every profanity known to mankind. 

Feel her tongue swirl around your cockhead while an expression of determination forms on her face. You can see that she is already planning ahead on how to make this the best head she’s ever given you. Rei has an amazing bitch face, but it also fills you with thread. You have to surrender to her mouth, her lips, her tongue—now her hands that grab your hips and then—

“Oh, fuck, ouh fuck!”

Rei slams her head back and forth, your cock going in and out almost fully with every single repetition, while she gags and slobbers on every centimeter she forces into herself. A bizarre thing, face fucking herself on you, for your pleasure, yet you are about to wince for mercy. Rei’s mouth is perfect, but it’s all too fast, without warning she grinds the top, then the back of her tongue on your sensitive slit. You leak, you hiss, you struggle to stand or think.

“Re-Rei, t-too much, fuck.”

Rei pops you free from her lips, but they look eager to go back to it and apply even more pressure on your cock. She firmly holds the base of your dick and glares at you.

“Then do it yourself, pussy. Fill my cheeks already.”

It’s like she’s given you the controller to a video game back; though this is vastly superior than anything you have ever played. You pull at her hair, force her to cry out before flailing backwards against the opposite wall of the booth. This time you lay your cock on her lips on your own merit. 

“I’ll make you take that back.”

Pry her slutty mouth open, hope she is ready for impact and make her entire body convulse when you slam your pelvis into her face. The feeling of her tight, gagging throat is a lot different when you're in control, not better, not worse, though you like that Rei can take your roughness so well.

You close your eyes and begin to thrust, rarely giving her time to breathe, never giving yourself time to rest. The generously wet expedition into Rei's throat both feels like finding something new and being at home. A familiar warm feeling and alien sounds, your girlfriend's deepthroats are one of a kind.

Rei is opportunistic, her tongue now out of her mouth, receiving hits by your balls as you continue to fuck her face. It's one of those days apparently, when she is for some damn reason completely enamored with your sac. Maybe she likes the hisses that escape your lips because of the extra stimulation, maybe she is just impatient and wants what's inside of them.

When her already generously big and round cheeks are the biggest and roundest, you finally pull out and let her cough out the pool of saliva, two smaller pools underneath her eyes are also letting loose. You smack her purple-blue lips with your stiff length.

"I thought you could take it," you laugh at a set of coughs by Rei.

"I, hng, thought you'd fill my cheeks.

"Loser."

"Okay, get up."

Cheeky grin on her lips, Rei pushes herself off the ground and you push up something of your own, her tight crop top. You struggle to get the white fabric over her bountiful tits, but she is quick to help you by stretching out her arms high in the air. After a couple of tugs, you see the two massive melons bounce freely—or not. Two laughably tiny patches of silk, connected to each other and Rei’s neck form a bikini that is definitely too sexy for this pool, for any pool. 

“You really wanted to go out there wearing this?” you question, a finger already hooked in one of the patches.

“No, that’s why I’m still here~”

“Then it’s confiscated.”

A single pull and the bikini top falls off as if spider webs held it together. Now they are free, Rei’s magnificent melons, round like her cheeks, soft like her thighs, the nipples stiff like you. Before you give them a squeeze however, you surprise your girlfriend by roughly yanking up her skirt to above her hips. Rei yelps and loses her balance, but one of her hands finds safety on the mirror, mirror on the wall.

“Very unlike you to not go straight for my chest,” Rei teases, her voice still stable though her stand becomes a lot less stable when you get behind her and plant her firmly in front of the mirror. Now she needs both hands to not fall over with how you manhandle her light yet astoundingly thick frame. 

“They will get enough appreciation later.” Put emphasis on these words by nibbling her ear. She trembles in excitement.”I want to hear you say it again.”

“Say what again?” Rei once more teases, as you hook a finger into the flimsy excuse of a thong she’d call a stylish bikini, ready to reveal both her aroused entrances. “Oh, that. 

“I need you to fill my ass cheeks with your sticky load, pretty please.”

So fake, so lewd, yet so incomparably preposterous. The moment her bikini bottom falls down her long legs, Rei presses her bottom against your cock and it takes barely any effort for you to get it inside her. Talking about bottom, you're close to bottoming out, but Rei’s cute yet also growling cry has you scrambling to find something to gag her. You’re still in public, she can’t be that loud. All you find is the pathetic bikini, which you shove into her pretty little mouth. 

“I’m going to fuck you good, but keep it down,” you groan into her ear and give in to the risky, yet irresistible desire to plow her ass. Rei is trying her best, munching and soaking the green in her mouth rather than screaming out your name. You’ll buy her a new, better bikini after this anyways. If she’d ran around in that thing for more than a minute, then you’d need to fuck her the rest of your vacation and that would be—wait, would you even mind that?

You’d do it like this all day long, her wrists in your grasp, her body slightly tilted towards the mirror while you watch her tits bounce with every thrust into her tight back entrance. Rei is at your mercy, only upright because you want to. Each inch you pull out has her scrambling for footing, but you gladly give them back to her, into her, to the point where exactly this has her knees buckling. 

“Fuck you’re so… suffocating,” you mumble, the heat from your crotch spread up to your head long ago. The same goes for Rei: a hand on her freely jumping tits confirms it. Her eyes roll into the back of her head when you roll a nipple in between two lazy fingers. It’s not much, but you swear it made her even tighter and less stable. 

You lift a leg of hers, feel the sweaty meat of her full thigh make your hand sink deep. It reminds you of a pillow, a comfortable bed—now a waterbed because her orgasm is wet. Rei surrenders her beautiful back onto your chest, eyes closed, mouth ready to voice her pleasure but she has to keep it shut. Outside are people, laughing, gossiping, going about their lives. And in here, you recklessly pound in the still sensitive Rei.

It’s incredible how she still relaxes around you, how easy it is to fill her with a girthy cock. Honest to God, it has you tripping, forward, against the cold mirror. Rei spits out her bikini-gag when her hard nubs touch the reflective surface. You’d stop her ensuing moans from escaping her mouth, but you have to hold onto her thigh and breast. There are just not enough hands to touch every perfect part of her body—and her lips are definitely on that list.

Your orgasm is nigh, hence why you thrust frantically, the claps of a nye pelvis on nye ass now also louder than any background noise if someone is close enough. You can already hear the murmurs from behind the curtains. Someone whispers about hearing weird sounds—you have to bust before you get busted.

Rei’s fishnet-covered foot crawls up a wall. Fucking is now easier, so you put in the final gear and reach for her hips to to smash her back into you. Everything is too loud, too lewd; Rei’s expression, your expression, your combined groans, all the sweaty and love juice trailing down your legs—

The connection of your cock in her ass as if explodes on the final thrust you can muster up. Rei’s anal cavity is stretched and now stuffed to the fullest to the point where pulling out will cause a mess of cataclysmic proportions. You have to stay inside her for longer, plug up the cum filled hole as it sluttily clenches around your sensitive cock. 

“Fuck, that was perfect,” Rei groans, her body limp between you and the mirror. You look at her and smile for a second. That round face, adorable, makes for great selfies and family pictures. Mere moments ago, it was drooling and moaning uncontrollably. The duality of Rei.

“Yeah, but how the fuck do we clean this up?” you ask, hands mindlessly on your girlfriend's chest.

“I don’t know, I haven't planned for this scenario. I thought you’d fuck my face and I could swallow it all and then you could fill my ass in the hotel room.”

“Well, we can still do that, but we now need to get out of here.” You try to think for a second before your eyes fall on the fallen bikini thong on the floor. You stop massaging Rei’s breasts and instead reach for her pussy, wet and flushed. “By the way, what was your goal with that ‘bikini’?”

“O-oh, you really don’t like it?”

“It’s just that I wouldn’t be able to help myself but fuck you if you wore that. It’s way too revealing. I don’t want anyone seeing the pussy I fuck and the ass I fill and the tits I fondle—”

“So you want no one seeing me?” Rei moans softly when you rub her clit.

“Yes, cause I love you so fucking much, Rei.”

“Ts, looooser~”

[sapphosclosefriend]

- Money, Power, Glory pt 4 -

Pairing: CEO! Silverfox! Natasha Romanoff x Escort! Fem! Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, brief smut

Summary: you're finally ready to start getting to know more about each other while in Cuba. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Word count: 4k

Warnings: top! Natasha x bottom! R, Natasha has a penis, big age gap (N=56, R=24), talks of miscarriages (not R), big mommy issues, very brief smut.

A/N: this story contains smut and mature themes so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. I can't believe we're on schedule…if it keeps going well, the Christmas special will come out next week!!! As usual, thanks so so much to @supercorpdanbeau and @rt--link !!! As usual, likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡

Masterlist

You could barely breathe and the sounds that kept fighting to come out of your mouth over and over made it even harder for you to draw in some much needed air.

You could only lay limp on your stomach while Natasha had her weight on her hands on either side of your waist, getting enough leverage to thrust deep and hard into you and make your eyes roll back as she graced your ears with her breathless swears. She was incredibly close and, after a few more harsher thrusts that you were sure had to have made you slide up the bed at least a bit, she reached her peak with loud groans as she intently filled your pussy with all of her cum. Finally getting the chance, you tried your best to get your breathing back to normal while she stayed still inside of you and tried to do the same. You looked even more beautiful to Natasha as you lay under her. You were always ready to take anything from her, and your heavenly afterglow along with the way your pussy clenched around her while still coming down from your own peak, could've easily gotten her going once again. Sensing your tiredness, though, she immediately stopped her impure, spiraling thoughts to carefully pull out of you as gently as she could while lightly caressing the small of your back at the small hiss you tried to hide, before leaning down to land a quick peck on your bare back.

“You did so good for me”

You could only tiredly hum at the murmured praise as the older woman moved off of you to clean herself up, retrieve something to do the same to you and get a glass of fresh water. You were fighting to keep your eyes open, knowing that you could've easily fallen asleep as soon as you blocked the light coming from the large window, but you lost your battle once she came back to take care of you. You were starting to drift off as soon as her soft hand touched your shoulder to tell you she was back, but still made out her quiet chuckle once she finished her task and settled back in her spot on the bed. Feeling her gaze on you, you opened your eyes to be greeted by her lying form next to you, amusingly looking at you as you still hadn't moved an inch.

“Shut up”

Your grumbled words as you tried to look at her through only one eye seemed to be a way too entertaining show for Natasha as she fought to hide a smirk threatening to come out.

“I didn't say anything”

She was full on smiling now as you rubbed your eyes to get a better view of her.

“You don't need to”

Your sluggish movements as you did your best to find a comfortable position while turning to your side to face her would've made you almost embarrassed with any other customer, but you both knew deep down that Natasha simply wasn't any other customer. You both felt so at ease with each other and when your professionalism slipped away to leave space for genuineness, you gave her the courage for the same to happen to her and the constant control she always had even over her own self would leave some space for a more relaxed version of her you couldn't help but appreciate more and more. You admittedly felt very lucky to be able to witness the real person behind the big title and even though she was still clearly not ready to disclose too personal information about herself yet, you appreciated the effort she had put into sharing small, apparently meaningless, bits of her with you. You cherished every single word, every action, every joke, every glance and, unbeknownst to you, Natasha only felt her heart clenching more the less you asked her about herself. She would've poured her heart out to you, if only to make you happy and to satisfy your curiosity, but she knew that such a thing just wasn't possible. And seeing your clear desire to know anything you could about her, yet your restraint to do so, warmed her heart at the prospect of someone finally understanding her for once and letting her go at her own pace.

The happiness that always came from such beautiful thoughts that, by then, plagued her mind, though, was always destined to get shattered. Because she knew, deep down, that you were just doing your job after all. Yes, you were getting to know her and you wanted to do so, but you weren't actively looking to start a relationship or anything so crazy. You were just a girl being way too nice with a woman like her. Your interest couldn't possibly be as deep as hers was becoming. She just had to keep shaking the strange fluttering in her stomach away every time you looked at her like you were doing now, but your pretty eyes and your even prettier face made it impossible for her hand to stay in its place and before she knew it she was caressing your warm cheek before leaning in to leave a small peck on your lips and bashing in the incredible feeling of your touch on her.

She couldn't believe she was once again feeling disappointment, yet this time around it pierced her heart just so much harder. This time it wasn't someone else hopefully trying to get through the thick wall she had created against the outside and giving up before succeeding. This time she was the one who couldn't get to the person she seeked because such person simply didn't want her in the same way. She hated how vulnerable she felt, yet, for once, such a feeling, instead of the anger she was used to experiencing, got even more curiosity out of her. If nothing serious could happen it didn't mean that she couldn't indulge herself into knowing the most about you she could.

Noticing the goosebumps on your arms you tried not to bring any attention to, she silently got up from the bed, not bothering to cover up her godly body, to get some clothes for the both of you. As you lay alone on your side and admired the cloudy sky, free of all sun rays, the sight of the sea moving back and forth outside slightly started lulling you further into relaxation, also thanks to the oxytocin still running high through you. You didn't even hear her steps as she approached the bed once again and the warm light she turned on slightly startled you, pulling you out of your brief trance and getting your attention back to her. She was standing at the foot of the bed with her gray hair up in a messy bun and wearing only a pair of black boxers and a wrinkly band t-shirt, a kind of look you'd never seen on her. She looked pretty, like one of the truest versions of herself there was and one that made you want to hug her as hard as you could.

She was holding a pair of underwear you recognised as yours, that she probably found in your luggage, and a beige, slightly damaged, cashmere sweater you knew for sure was hers. You had seen it so many times in her house, always somewhere in case she needed it, if she wasn't wearing it already. You didn't know why, but the thought of something so simple such as Natasha having a favorite sweater made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, especially knowing that she was offering it to you now.

As you thanked her for the clothes and put them on, not even bothering to get out of bed to do so, she gathered the duvet from the floor to lay it over the bed once you sat back, letting it cover you and immediately warming you up a bit. You only wanted to admire her long legs and the snippet of her stomach as her t-shirt rode up while she got into bed, but the smell coming from the fabric on your body almost got you back into the post sex trance you just exited. The sweater sat soft like a cloud on your skin and the sleeves, a little too long for you, offered you the opportunity to ball their remaining fabric around your fists, warming up your hands and almost forcing you to move them closer to your face to fully breathe in the scent that intoxicated you. It didn't just smell like her perfume, it smelled like her, like her skin, like her hair, like Natasha.

You could've fallen asleep right then and there, with the soft sound of her even breathing and her smell clouding your mind, but you opened your eyes once her fingers gently moved a strand of hair away from your face and tenderly caressed your cheekbone once again. The second your gaze met hers, the vast ocean outside of the yacht completely disappeared, leaving you alone to drown in the greenish, addicting sea that were her eyes, instead. Gosh, how gladly you would’ve died lost in their depth.

“Can I ask you…can I ask you something about yourself?”

Her murmured question, spoken so quietly and even unsurely, pulled your mind off the beautiful endlessness of her eyes.

“Sure…I'm not that interesting, though, compared to someone like you.”

“You’re very interesting to me.”

Her small voice as she muttered the words warmed your heart like never before and almost made you tear up at the genuine interest she seemed to have over you. It was a bit hard for you to open up, certainly not as much as it was for her, but you did your best not to hold back when you could, hoping to make her trust you enough to let her guard down if she wanted to. And so, with a small nod from you, she moved to lie on her side, holding her head up on her hand, while you wiggled closer to her until you found a comfortable position to look up at her from your spot as you lay down next to her.

“What do you wanna know?”

“Everything you wanna tell me.”

You never disclosed personal information to your customers, after all it's not like they really wanted to know anything about you. Whenever they asked you something it was always out of courtesy, never of true interest, so you would just find a polite way to discreetly deviate the conversation to something they actually had interest in. But seeing the little smile on her face as she sweetly waited for your response with so much interest in her eyes, warmed your heart like never before and made you feel as though you could've never stopped yourself from telling her whatever the hell she wanted.

“Sorry, I’m usually not very good at opening up”

You tried to justify your initial silence as you thought about something to start the conversation with, your mind overcrowded by a turmoil of emotions.

“It’s fine, it doesn’t seem like it, but I like listening to people I care about. Of course you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, though.”

The sudden warmth in your cheeks at the mention of possibly being as lucky as being someone Natasha cared about immediately lost its importance, as you tentatively looked up at her. The disappointment you were afraid to meet wasn't anywhere on her face, though, as it was only filled with what you could only describe as love and care. She was at ease, she was talking and maybe she was even more than at ease. She trusted you. You couldn't ruin such an achievement and she needed to know that you noticed and you appreciated it.

“No no, I want to, really! I want to, Natasha”

You held her soft hand in yours as you intently looked at her in the eye as a way to reassure her of your willingness and, once you tried to let go, feeling slightly ashamed of your initial eagerness with your action, you were glad to feel her hold tighten on your hand, signaling she was more than fine with the contact.

“When we got here this morning you said the smell of the ocean reminded you of your childhood, why?”

You still seemed uncertain for a moment, but her comforting, warm hand in yours and her patient silence gave you the courage you needed to start talking to her. It surprised you how at ease you felt as soon as the first word left your mouth and after that, it was as if the floodgates had been opened.

"You know, there are studies that show how the faintest of smells or scents, in a mere millisecond can trigger whole memories that you never even knew you had or that you haven't thought about in years. That always happens to me with what I call the salty sea, this warm, dry, saline smell that always makes me feel so many things. It's bittersweet.

You know, when I was a kid I'd always spend the summer with my grandparents at the seaside. My parents couldn't take time off work so I'd spend those months away from home, only the three of us. I used to love that, I was always looking forward to it: we always stayed at a very beautiful campsite, in our trailer and it was so fun, to stay in our cozy little house during those three months and have more adventures every single day. I'd go to the pool, ride my bike, play at the park, paint at the kid's club, swim in the ocean, make sand castles. And every year I'd make new friends from all over the world. Sometimes I'd never see them ever again, which was sad, but I knew that I'd meet new ones and make the pain in my heart go away.

The thing that I liked the most about those summers, though, was how sweet my mom used to be to me. We wouldn't see each other all day every day, so there wasn't the risk of me pissing her off, doing the wrong thing, saying the wrong thing, forgetting to do something, making her forget to do something. We wouldn't see each other all day every day, so her daily evening calls were only filled with love and affection from her. Every day she'd call and she'd ask me what I had done and how the new kids I met were. She'd tell me she missed me so freaking much and that she couldn't wait for me to be back home in her arms. I'd cry almost every night, because every night I'd realize just how much I missed her and that I would've left and even walked all the way back home if she missed me too much. I hated how I could hear the strain in her voice from the whole day spent at work and the pain from being away from me. She was used to not spending a lot of time together, she had to go back to work very soon after I was born and always worked very long hours, but of course it was different in those summer months.

When I got older I realized that being away from one another was actually much better than we thought: after being apart for a while, the need to be together and the way she missed me would make the side of her that wasn't always happy with life go away, at least for a little bit. She didn't get the chance of getting angry with me or me triggering a mental breakdown and her telling me that she just needed to leave dad and I and get a new life or end it all. It's funny, I never realized how fucked up it is to say something like that to a 6 years old until very little ago.

Anyway, during those summers the only thing my mom did was love me, actually, not love me, she liked me, I wasn't flawed and always doing something wrong, I was her daughter and she liked me and she loved me. And then I understood, I need to stay away from her for a little while, so that she can love me for a little bit.

So yeah, it's bittersweet, the salty sea."

You couldn’t process what just happened, but what took over your mind as soon as you finished talking wasn’t the shock from being able to disclose such information to someone who wasn’t family or your therapist, but the fear of having ruined for good whatever small traces of a connection you had with Natasha thanks to your uncontrolled rambling. She said “everything”, but what if it was too deep? She said “everything”, but what if she wasn't ready to tell you something like that about herself and you made her feel forced to do so? She said “everything”, but what if you had built her wall back up with your own hands?

Sensing the panic you were almost perfectly hiding, she gently pulled you against her chest to hold you in her arms and kiss the top of your head before the “sorry” you had ready for her could leave your lips. Pulling back, she finally admired your beautiful face once again, feeling a bit more reassured at the slightly lessened, yet still present, traces of tension on your features. You looked small, young, younger than you were, with almost imperceptible traces of childhood you still seemed to unknowingly hold onto behind your eyes. You looked young because you were young and for the first time with her you didn't try to hide yourself behind a closely crafted composed facade that sometimes didn't fully fit you.

“And how is it now? If I can ask.”

"We don't really see each other anymore, except for the holidays sometimes, but we're not on bad terms at all. We always text and talk through the phone. It's just that her calls now feel like those old summer ones, always so sweet"

She didn’t respond to you, but she didn’t need to say anything, you understood how hard it could be for someone like her to express herself with her words. Her eyes and the warmth of her arm, still holding you in a loose hug, easily made you understand anything she would’ve wanted to express to you.

You tried your best to be as open as you could, but you knew you needed to take your mind off of certain things before your mood would’ve been ruined for the whole weekend and you still wanted to try to get to know at least something more about Natasha. You had to try, at least.

“Can I ask you why you like this sweater so much?”

You didn’t know where that question came out of, maybe the thought had been bugging you for way too long and your mind pulled a trick on you. Great, now she must’ve really thought you were crazy for good.

“I’m sorry, it must sound dumb”

You tried to brush it off with a small, pathetic laugh as you lowered your head to hide from her out of embarrassment, internally facepalming at your impulsiveness, but her hand on your arm, softly rubbing her thumb over it gave you the courage to look back up at her.

“No, not at all!”

The slight worry in her eyes, at first caused by the sight of your discomfort from your own question, soon turned into the usual worry she felt at the prospect of sharing certain aspects of her life with someone else. But the more she looked at you, the more the deep, gnawing feeling slowly got replaced by the mere melancholy of what the answer to your question consisted of. She knew it would’ve been hard but for once she wanted to do it, for once she wanted to try to open herself for someone she knew would’ve been willing to accept what came with her. And so she took the leap of faith.

“I know I have a poor reputation in terms of marriages, everyone apparently knows about it. I also know it was my fault for not making it work out every time, but if I have to be honest I never felt too…bad about myself for it. I mean, I know I’m not perfect and I have too many things to think about to try to be someone I’m not for the sake of a wife. I think the only oth-…time I did was with my first wife.

I got to know Maria when I was in college and as soon as I graduated we got married, got a house and I started working a shitty office job. We struggled for a bit, I wasn’t making a lot of money and she was working as a waitress, but I did anything I could to make our lives better and finally I got a pretty good promotion. That sweater was one of the first things I bought for myself and, I know it sounds stupid, but every time I looked at it, it reminded me that I had power over my life and we could finally have a decent life, I could give her a decent life. I was so happy, not only because I knew I could’ve done more for her, but I was also proud of myself, I mean, I liked my job.

I only realized just how much time I was spending away from home, away from her, when she told me she wanted to have a baby. We had more than enough money for it but I knew that my focus wasn’t at home back then. At first I tried to make any excuses I could, but eventually I just gave in. I think she noticed that I was doing it more for her than for me, but, if she did, she didn't mention it. We tried for a bit and at first it didn't work, but eventually she got pregnant. And she was so happy after all those months, she was over the moon. Of course I was happy we were expecting, but I could still feel my focus being somewhere else…and then she lost the baby and I was so stupid I barely even said I was sorry. I didn't know what to do, I didn't know how to help her…

We tried to go on for a bit and I knew I couldn't help her out emotionally, so I did what I know how to do best. I worked more and I bought her more stuff and I brought her on more trips but it was all for nothing and that sweater now reminded me that I couldn't be what she needed, that I wasn't perfect.

I cared, after she left me, then I didn't and now I know I just can't be perfect.”

You could still see some small hints of fake confidence she was so used to displaying, but the insecurity and sadness still drenched her words as she avoided your gaze at all costs. You could see her trying to get some last words out and her slightly shaky breathing almost got you worried for her.

“You know, I don't give a shit about what people think of me…but…you make me wanna be perfect”

Her brows were knitted as she tentatively whispered her words, almost as if she couldn’t understand such a concept. She didn't do what she was so used to be doing, what she had done with all of her wives. She didn't do her best just as a way to avoid you getting mad, she did it because she felt you deserved to always be with her best self, nothing less.

Everything was different with you, everything felt different…

.

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Part 5

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Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox @dmenby3100 @marvels--slut @dvrkhcld @elenimoris @mrsrushman @mrsromanoff @thalia-is-not-ok @alianovnasposts @clintsupremacy @taliiiaasteria @meowymari @lissaaaa145 @natashaswife4125 @olsenmyolsen @angrywhisperslove @aemilia19 @setsuna1415 @letsboandy @mrsromanovaa @wizardofstories @karsonromanoff

[gemstone-roses]

Hello lovely! If you’re taking requests, would you be able to please write something smutty about Hannibal x reader sort of like enemies to lovers maybe where they don’t get a long and she’s a bit weary of him but one day they end up having really rough sex??? Lots of dirty talk and choking pls xx

Woo okay, let's go!

This took me forever so I hope you like it, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated🥺🥺

a:n- minors be gone 18+ only!. Dirty talk, female reader, choking,smut, rough sex. So. Much. Smut. I got a bit carried away oops, pussy eating, praise kink, filthy language, unprotected sex, mentions of choking on a dick, choking, 18+

Ooh there's a bit of a build up too this time! It's a bit long oops.

This work is intended for adults only, meaning those who are 18 and over. remember you are responsible for your own media consumption.

Hannibal finds it amusing, the way you roll your eyes whenever he opens his mouth. He might well have a good point but it doesent stop you from making your annoyance known. You thought hannibal was just far too cocky and far too sure of himself.

And every time hannibal sees it, a sly smirk appears on his face.

You loathed working with him, and your boss seemed to be oblivious to this since he always made you go with hannibal on a case.

"Im driving" you huff, not even looking at him as you reach for the drivers side handle

"It's my car" hannibal says simply, leaning on the door,causing it to shut.

You gape at him, hannibal stands there leaning against the car door, lazily, a smile dancing across his face.

Hannibal raises his eyebrows at you, waiting.

"You are insufferable do you know that!" You state

Hannibal just smiles wider, sticking his tongue between his teeth watching you become angrier at him.

"Fine" you huff, launching the keys at him. Your pouting, breath heaving slightly, and hannibal can't help the way it sends blood rushing to his cock.

Hannibal starts the car and the radio blares on. You lean over from the passenger seat to try and change it to something more your taste when hannibal places his hand firmly on your thigh.

"Leave it" he says lowly.

Your brain short circuits for a moment

"I am not, listening to this!" You manage to breathe out, hopefully hiding shakiness in your voice.

Hannibal ignores you, hoping it'll be the end of your utterly annoying complaining.

It's not.

"Go that way its quicker" you say

He doesn't.

"You should of gone the other way" you state, as you join a small line of traffic due to some road works.

The drive only takes 15 minutes but by the time you both get out of the car hannibal is rubbing his temples dramatically.

"Oh I'm sorry I didn't realise I was so terrible to be around" you say.

Hannibal furrows his brows.

"I need you to come to my office when we get back" he says firmly

"Jesus christ how about some manners?" You roll your eyes

Hannibal turns around and walks towards you, you can't help your heart speed up at the sight, he's so very... attractive.

You blink away the thoughts right as he reaches you

"Y/N" he whispers, he's out of breath, putting both arms on either side of you he's trapped you against the car.

You open your mouth to speak but no sound comes out.

Hannibal swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, taking note of the way your breathing increases.

He leaves you without saying another word.

The drive back is silent.

He gets out first when you arrive, not even waiting for you to get out the car.

By the time you reach his office, he's already sitting behind his desk.

You enter and shut the door behind you, hannibal looks up at you and his gaze is so intense it makes you want the floor to swallow you up.

"You- you wanted me to come up here" you say, hannibal gets up and clears the space between you in seconds.

And once again he places both arms either side of you, leaning against the door.

You notice he's rolled his sleeves up and it makes your brain short circuit for a moment.

" I did" he agrees, he steps forward, meaning you have to widen your legs slightly

"What are you-

"You have been testing my patience y/n" he whispers, hands rubbing up your waist gently.

"Yeah well your pretty insufferable yourself" you whisper.

Hannibal traces his hand up to your jaw, his big hand gripping your chin, a finger reaching out to caress your cheek

"Should I stop?" He whispers stilling his hand, a warmness in his gaze you haven't seen before.

You shake your head, lips parted slightly.

"Use your words" he whispers lowly.

"I don't want you to stop" you say

"Good girl" he praises and hannibal dosent miss the way your pupils widen at that.

Hannibal bites his lip slightly, oh he is going to enjoy this.

"You liked that didn't you?" He teases, dropping his hand from your chin to rest around your neck.

"Mm hmm" you mutter, slightly breathless.

Hannibal tightens his hand slightly, studying your reaction, he feels your pulse quicken under his hand, you shift slightly trying to ease the growing ache in your cunt.

He squeezes a little harder, causing you to let a moan you'd been holding in escape your lips.

Hannibals cock strains against his pants.

"Open your mouth for me darling" he says, swiping his thumb across your lip before pushing in two of his fingers.

You wrap your lips around his fingers and suck, hannibal closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, commiting to memory the sight in front of him.

"That's it darling" he smiles, his cock twitching every time you made a noise.

He pushes into you, his erection brushing up against your leg.

"Do you feel that y/n?"

You whimper

Hannibal removes his fingers from your mouth, reaching down, he guides your hand to his bulge.

You stroke your hand up and down a couple of times, taking notice of how thick he feels, hannibal let's out a low moan before quickly pushing your hand away and opening his hand to take yours, he guides your arm up above your head before crashing his lips to yours.

You can tell he's skillful by the way he kisses. One hand pinning yours above your head, the other grips your waist, you feel the books on the shelf behind you pressing into your back.

Hannibal pushes his tongue into your mouth, gripping your waist tighter you moan into the kiss.

"You sound delightful when you moan my love" he breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead to yours.

"Please" you whisper, needing more.

"What my love?, what do you want?" He knows exactly what you want, he just wants to hear you beg.

"Touch me" you say, closing your eyes as you sigh

"No no" he tuts, stroking your face

"Look at me"

You open your eyes and stare into his, his eyes blown wide with lust.

"Good girl" he says again and this time you don't bother trying to stifle the groan escaping from your throat.

" I bet you've soaked right through your panties haven't you, and I've hardly, even, touched, you" and with each word his hands inch lower into the waistband of your pants.

He runs a finger through your soaking folds, presses it to your clit.

It makes you squeal.

"Fuck hanni-

He smirkes at you, removing his fingers and instead gripping your wrist and leading you to his couch.

"Lie down" he states simply, and you do, bringing your lip between your teeth as hannibal loosens his tie.

He keeps his eyes on yours as he undresses, he can see its driving you mad as your chest heaves watching him.

"I've dreamt about how you'll taste on my tongue" his accent thick as he kneels between your legs.

Slowly, he removes your trousers, every touch of his fingers on your skin making your pussy throb.

When he's done he admires the view, a prominent wet patch visible in your panties.

You thrust your hips up slightly, indicating for him to hurry up and just touch you.

Hannibal leans down placing his hands on either side of your thighs, he brings his mouth to your clothed pussy, placing a far too soft kiss to your dripping, covered cunt.

You let out a frustrated moan, hannibal chuckles, finally hooking his fingers through your panties.

"May I?" He asks softly.

You nod

"Words, darling" he whispers

"Yes" you almost scream, and hannibal finally touches you where you needed him most.

His tongue teases the outside of your pussy before circling your clit slowly.

"Oh fuck" you moan, thrusting your hips into his mouth, hannibal removes one of his hands from your thigh, teasing your entrance with his finger.

His tongue presses flat against your clit as he pushes a finger inside you, he curls his finger, reaching that spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

"Oh my god hanni" you breathe, hannibal removes his mouth from your folds as he inserts another finger.

"I can feel you tightening around my fingers darling, are you going to Cum?" He asks, but he knows the answer. You close your eyes as you feel your orgasm approach

"Open your eyes and look at me sweetheart" he speaks so softly it makes your cunt clench harder.

"That's it, cum for me y/n, i got you, let go for me" he urges as your pussy clenches round his fingers and you see stars.

Your chest heaves as you try and catch your breath, but before you've had time to fully recover, hannibal places his cock at your dripping hole.

"Fuck me, please" you breathe, and that's all hannibal needs to hear before pushing his thick cock into your pussy.

"You feel incredible around my cock" he moans as he thrusts into you slowly.

Hannibal snakes his hand up your body, around your neck once more.

He applies a tiny bit of pressure as he fucks into you, your eyes roll back in pleasure and hannibal quickens his pace.

"Mm fuck" you moan

"Your squeezing my cock so good y/n" he praises as his hand continues squeezing your throat.

"Im gonna cum again hanni" you warn him, feeling a second orgasm approach.

"Cum with me" he groans, and it's the hottest thing you've ever heard, he's breathless, his skin glowing slightly from the activity.

"Hanni-" you choke out, his cock hitting your g spot with every thrust, he can feel your walls tightening around him.

"Cum for me y/n" he moans as his own orgasm washes over him, and with one last squeeze of his hand around your neck, you feel his cock tighten inside you, causing your brain to short circuit for a moment, you see stars once more as you cum on hannibals cock.

Hannibal pulls out slowly when you've caught your breath and recovered.

"That was-

"Incredible" he finishes for you.

"I should piss you off more often" you tease, he's lay next to you on the couch, his hands trailing softly over your stomach.

"Next time, maybe I'll choke on your cock" you add.

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 12

part 1, prev part

The Chief walks into the hospital room the next day in full uniform. Pulling out his key ring and setting the key in the lock. The cuffs open, clacking against each other as he takes them back.

Eddie is free.

“I owe you an apology, I should have taken these off a long time ago.”

Wayne looks at the Chief, wondering if he should be grateful or angry. “Why happed with the feds?”

“They agreed to point the other way. Still looking for a fall guy, but it won’t be your nephew. I made sure of that.”

“Thank you.”

The Chief huffs. “Don’t be thanking me. You should thank Harrington, he really knocked some sense into my head.”

That seems to happen often. Through his actions, the way that he talks to people. The way that he’s respected Wayne’s boundary to leave him and Eddie alone. The way he cares for Dustin. Cares for Eddie even when Wayne didn’t want him too. Fought for the things he knew were true, never giving up.

Wayne really needed to talk to him.

“I hear he’s been getting better,” the Chief continues. Taking the seat next to Wayne.

Wayne nods. “Yeah, wakin’ up slowly. Should be able to talk again in a few days.”

The Chief nods. “I know I was really dragging my feet to get the cuffs off, but my offer still stands. If you need anything, feel free to give me a call. I still can’t tell you everything that happened, but as time goes on, you’re going to have a lot of questions. I can hopefully give you some answers. Lend a hand when you need me to.”

There’s going to be a lot of things that Wayne will never understand. Life has shown him that already. There were things that he didn’t understand before and learned to.

He can do it all again. Try to ignore the need for answers and try to understand. Have the patience he had when Eddie was younger. As he was learning how to be the person Eddie needed him to be.

“I appreciate that, Chief.”

“Please, just call me Jim.”

Jim leaves a little after that. Giving Wayne some space. He goes on a walk a little while later. Wanting some fresh air. Coming back to see Dustin heading down the hall, Steve sitting peacefully in the waiting room. Looking a hell of a lot better than yesterday.

“Can I talk to you?” Wayne sits down across from him. Ready to actually have a conversation with him for once.

Steve sits up a bit straighter, trying to make a better impression. “Yeah, sure.”

Wayne clears his throat. “I owe you an apology. You never gave me a reason to treat you the way I did and it was harsh of me to assume things about you. It’s not an excuse, but I was angry at a lot of things and seein’ you walk out of here fine while Eddie’s not. . . It was an easy thing for me to be mad at.”

“I don’t blame you. I think I would have reacted the same if it was my kid in Eddie’s position. You really have nothing to apologize for.”

“But I do,” Wayne insists. “You all clearly went through something that I don’t fully understand. I had no right to keep you from seeing him.”

Steve has a look a mix emotions. Like he’s fighting between gratitude and sorrow. “Would it be ok if I saw him now?”

Wayns nods. Walking down the hall with Steve to Eddie’s room, letting him sit in the chair next to him. He swears that he sees tears start to form in Steve’s eyes, but he blinks them away before he can confirm.

“Where’s the kid?” Wayne asks.

Steve clears his throat. “Visiting Max. She’s doing a lot better now.”

“That’s good.”

“He looks so different,” Steve says after a break of silence. “Like the energy of him was sucked out.”

Wayne nods, having felt the same way for a long time.

“I know I didn’t know him that long, but.” Steve takes a breath. “During that week, he was really starting to feel like someone who could become a friend. I was really looking forward to becoming his friend.”

“What happened to him?” Wayns asks, desperate. “What happened to you?”

Steve meets his eyes, a troubled look resting on his face. The want to tell him but the knowledge that he can’t. “I wish I could tell you, but I legally can’t. I know that probably doesn’t make it better.”

“It doesn’t. But I appreciate you trying.”

Dustin comes in and reads his chapter like he always does. Having to pull up another chair since Steve stole his. They leave shortly after it’s done. Giving Wayne a few minutes to himself before he has to leave for work.

He leans closer to Eddie’s bed, placing a hand on the empty bar. Afraid to touch him, to do anything to make him worse. But he hasn’t said much in the days he’s been here. Too hopeless to imagine that Eddie could hear him. Today, he decides to try.

“Hey, kid. I’m sorry that I haven’t talked to you much in the past week. You must think there’s somethin’ up. That you did somethin’ to make me not talk to you. That’s not the case.”

Fear like this is something that Wayne never wanted to experience. Losing a child is something that a parent never wanted to even think about. Let alone live through. And while Eddie isn’t technically Wayne’s kid, he is in all the ways that matter.

“Truth is, I was scared. I thought I lost you so many times in the past few weeks. Each time I came in here, I thought would be the day that the nurses told me you were really gone. That I lost my son.”

Words get choked in Wayne’s throat as tears fall down his face. Things he’s been too afraid to say all coming out at once.

“But I didn’t. You’re still here. And you’re gettin’ better and I am so proud of you.”

Eddie opens his eyes, looking toward Wayne. His fingers tense, raising slightly towards Wayne’s hand. Wayne places his hand on top of Eddie’s squeezing it tight.

“Nothin’ you could do could ever make me not proud of you.”

next part

Note: I’m not crying, you’re crying. Jesus why do I do this to myself. Also this concludes chapter three, now posted on my ao3. Back to Dustin's POV in the next part

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[mini-ism]

#— BIRTHDAY SUIT.

pairings: welt yang x afab!gn!reader

words: about 2.5k

synopsis: your neighbor, mr. yang, has a chat with you that quickly turns intimate.

warnings: MDNI, p in v, unprotected sex, afab (gender neutral) reader, neighbor!welt yang, praise kink, birthday sex, not beta read.

notes: i wrote this with hi3 welt in mind (hes in his 50s in this fic), but it can also be read as hsr welt :p

“happy birthday, you!”

what a surprise, really, your next-door neighbor was pinching your cheek. mr. yang has always been a friendly man, and although your interactions have been limited and cordial, he had always been quite kind and polite.

mr. yang was beaming, the tray of fudgy brownies he baked sitting on the table, lukewarm, but inviting. he let go of your cheek, his pinch not too painful, more or less playful.

“it’s nice to see you, mr. yang. thank you for coming!” you smiled back at him haphazardly. it seems your family decided to invite him over. that wasn’t much of a problem, the more the merrier, one could assume.

“not a problem. how is your special day going so far?” he asked with genuine curiosity, placing a hand on your upper back as you two stepped over to the dining table. it was strewn with presents, balloons, and other birthday-like decorations. mr. yang’s fresh brownies awaited their inevitable fate amongst the festivities.

your friends and family greeted you warmly as you took your seat. mr. yang’s hand left your back as he took his own seat, smiling every so often as something humorous was said. your mother sighed contently as she entered the room, recounting everything else she had done before loudly gasping, “shoot, i forgot the damn cake!”

she raced out of the dining room, then out the door, followed by a few other members of your family and some friends. you assumed they had left with her. now it was just awkward. you grabbed the pitcher of sugary lemonade and a paper cup, pouring yourself a drink and sipping it.

mr. yang was the first to break the silence.

“hey, how about we talk for a moment, is that okay?” he stood next to you, slipping out of his seat and quietly asking. you nodded and finished your lemonade, leaving the cup somewhere where you would remember. he, again, guided you with his hand on your back, to your room. you could hear your friends chatting amongst themselves in the living room, playing games and watching TV. you shut the door behind you.

“what did you want to talk about mr. yang?” you turned to him. he sat on your bed and patted the spot next to him, urging you to sit with him.

“you could just call me welt, dear,” he gave you a gentle look, “i wanted to talk about life with you. maybe i could be a listening ear or give you some advice. i felt that you’d be more comfortable in your own space.”

you took your place next to him, appreciating his thoughtfulness and consideration. “what’s life like for you, dear? is everything okay in your own world?”

“yeah, life is okay. it's… hard sometimes, but when it’s good, it seems more worthwhile than usual.” you looked at the ground below you, fidgeting with your hands.

“you’ll find it’s purpose eventually, angel,” he started after a moment, “it doesn’t always come to you, especially not when you’re in your younger years. believe it or not, i’m still trying to figure it all out even at my age.” welt patted you reassuringly on the shoulder.

“i hope i figure it out soon.” you looked back at him, who was still looking at you oh-so gently.

“you will.” his hand moved to pat you on the thigh. welt had such a tender demeanor, maybe that is something that comes with age or experience.

it was silent again, you didn’t really know what to say.

“i’m proud of you,” he whispered, his hand moving slightly upwards, “you’re already doing incredibly well.”

“thank you, welt.” you whispered back in the same hushed tone, his hand creeping further upwards, giving your thigh a squeeze.

you drew in a breath and held it, and the air grew tensely stagnant. you could tell mr. welt was trying not to scare you or seem creepy.

you scooted closer to him, feeling the same wound tension in your body. you were receptive to his touch, from what he could tell. he gave your upper thigh a tighter squeeze.

you tried to hold in that breath, making a squeaky, choked noise. he was terribly quiet, “…am i hurting you, dear?”

“no, mr. yang…” you said with a murmur, staring at his hand. it was slightly vascular, his knuckles were rosy compared to his lighter tone, and, weirdly enough, it looked like he took care of his cuticles.

“that’s good to know,” he glanced at his hand, then at you, “tell me if i hurt you at all, please.”

“…okay.” you replied.

you met welt’s gaze, which was intense, yet tender and loving. you could tell a fire was burning beneath his cool exterior. his eyes were warm, like pools of dark honey. his breath hitched, and his face inched closer to yours.

his other hand cupped your cheek as he went in for the kiss. his lips were soft, and you kissed him back without a second thought (or a first). his thigh hand anchored him with a tight grip, causing you to whine into his lips. he pulled back, eyes wide, huffing for air, “did that hurt you?”

you shook your head no, furrowing your brows. you pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose, turning him on more than he’d like to admit, “that’s good…”

he gingerly maneuvered you to lay down onto your bed, getting on top of you with that damn look. his eyes were lidded, his lips parted, and his gaze passionate, yet caring. he nestled between your legs, spreading them apart slowly with his hands and hovering above you. he bent down to kiss you again, his tongue parting your own lips with caution. he gripped the undersides of your thighs tightly, savoring your taste as your tongues intertwined. he gave you another kiss on the lips as his tongue left your mouth.

your eyes flicked from his face, which was flushed and needy, to his chest, which was modest and clean, “do you want me to unbutton this, angel?”

with your nod, he straightened his back and unbuttoned his dress shirt with experience, he didn’t mess up even once, “i won’t take it off, but i hope you like what you see for now.”

you ran your hands over his slightly toned body, he was in great shape, and he smiled when you felt his chest. it felt right, the way he looked. he was undeniably handsome for a man in his late fifties — or so — he didn’t look a day over thirty. his chest and abs were very slightly chiseled, but you could still see a light outline of his ribs poking through. there was a little birthmark on his collarbone, and another on his neck.

his glasses were sliding off the bridge of his nose, and he elected to take them off and set them elsewhere. he brushed his brown hair out of his eyes, framing his face perfectly. his eyes had a mischievous twinkle in them.

wordlessly, you lifted your own shirt off your head, revealing the curve of your breasts to welt. a low noise escaped him. he kissed your cheek, then your neck, your collarbones, and the slope of your chest. you looked so pretty for him right now, and he couldn’t wait to see more of you.

welt gently fondled your chest, delicately rubbing your nipples and caressing your skin. his thumbs flicked back and forth on the sensitive bud, watching your nipples harden with curiosity. he smiled charmingly, his eyes warm and magnetic. welt held eye contact with you as his hands caressed their way lower to your hips. you gave him a nod, insinuating the motions of what’s to come next.

“are you sure, dear? you can tell me no, and we can put our clothes back on. don’t be scared to tell me anything.” his voice was comforting, his words were sincere and reassuring.

“yeah, i’m sure about it. i wanna do this with you, welt.”

welt kissed you again, responding with a soft sigh. he got up again, still on his knees and atop you. you removed everything from the waist down, leaving yourself bare for him. welt was glad you were enthusiastic, and he unbuckled his own belt. he kept your gaze as he unzipped his pants, letting you palm the bulge in his underwear, “are you ready?”

you let out a quiet “mhm,” letting him pin your knees to your chest and spread you open more, “keep your legs there please.”

welt slipped the waistband of his boxers down, revealing his happy trail. he drew his bottom lip between his teeth as his cock sprung out. he started to stroke himself gently, brows knitted together from the pleasure. “…do you want to take it?” he asked, quite shyly.

“mmm, yeah, i want to,” you purred, your body desperate for any sort of contact. welt grabbed the inside of your thigh with his other hand, stroking with his dominant hand as he teased your clit with his tip. his bottom lip remained tucked tightly between his teeth and cheeks flushed. the tip of welt’s cock slipped in for a brief moment before he pulled out, releasing his lip and drawing in a sharp breath.

a wanton mewl escaped your lips as he pulled out. welt groaned lowly in response, pushing the sensitive tip back inside of you with minimal resistance. he could stay like this forever, indulging himself in your tight pussy, watching you drool and whine as he pushes a little further before abruptly pulling out, stroking your swollen clit with his thumb. he could keep shushing you with his kisses and tease your entrance more, but his patience was slowly waning.

seeing you sprawled out on your bed, clothes scattered across your floor, your cunt needy and leaking like a faucet, he won’t be able to help himself much longer. it was a lot to take in at the same time, it was beautiful yet surreal. “don’t finish in your hand welt!” you slurred, crying out a bit louder than you should’ve. he was jerking himself subconsciously, dazed at the sight before him.

“i won’t, i promise.” welt smiled as the words left him, reassuring and effectively calming your worry. he slicked back the hair in his face, some of it falling right back into place. welt grabbed your thigh again, drawing in a deep breath, mostly to calm his nerves, and pushing into your wet, swollen pussy again. he released the breath quickly, sighing as he delved deeper into you, relishing the bliss of sliding into you. you kept babbling and whining, the stretch of your pussy left your tight hole burning. he kept shushing you gently, rocking his hips back and forth gently, only about halfway inside of you.

“it’s okay, it’s not gonna hurt like this soon. i’ll take care of you.” welt said as he rolled his hips slowly, smiling with sincerity as he hushed you again. with every tender and soft thrust, his cock sunk deeper into you, he could feel his tip brush up against your cervix with due time. “you're so wet,” he cooed, “i want to be inside you forever. you feel amazing.”

he felt you wrap your arms around his neck, letting you pull him down closer to you. you burrowed your face in his neck, your soft moans ringing in his ears as he gripped your sheets. it took everything in him not to fuck you senseless then, but he swore he’d be gentle with you.

“it’s alright,” he whispered to you, “i know, darling, i know.” he could feel you clamp down on him, your muscles tightening feverishly as he praised you. you couldn’t help but love the way he talked to you, he was so gentle and validating, welt was so sweet and understanding. your pussy gushed more as he muttered sweet nothings in your skin, his grip on your sheets as tight as your pussy’s grip on his cock. the pain subsided with each thrust, pleasure flooding your senses, your juices leaking from your hole and onto your sheets. “you’re doing so good for me, so, so good.”

it’s seriously taking every bit of willpower and control not to fuck into you. it’s disgusting, really, how badly he wants to fuck you with brutal thrusts, how badly he wants everyone to hear you scream out in pleasure, how badly he wants to make you squirm and cum everywhere. he wants to do that ten times over, at the least. he knows you can’t handle that, not now, but every shred of his being wants to fuck you until you swear your pussy is all his.

“so fucking good, baby,” he groans, his hips stuttering as he stuffs you full of his cock, milking out every drop of pleasure he can get before he inevitably cums, “such an angel for me.”

you continue to babble and mewl, feeling his cockhead thrust itself as deep as it can into you. you can feel himself slowly losing any sort of restraint he has, moaning with you as he slams his hips into yours. you kiss his neck as he huffs in your ear with every movement of his hips, groaning lowly when he slides back into you with vigor.

the world around you seemed to dull as your body grew hotter and needier. your blankets were damp with your slick, your skin burning and your core tightening. nothing really made sense but him, him and the way he was fucking you. you held onto his back, sliding your hands underneath his loose dress shirt, clawing and digging your nails into his skin. welt’s pace quickened, sweat dripping from his forehead, his back getting sticky from the perspiration.

every single muscle of yours was wound tense with pleasure, as were his, his control was slipping from his grasp. “just like that, hold me just like that.” he breathed into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. your senses were heightened as the world buzzed around you, nothing else mattered in this moment other than him and your quickly approaching orgasm. your nails dug harder into his bare skin as your heart beat harder in your ears. the sound of your pussy, as well as his moans and his skin against yours was all too lewd.

you murmured in his ear that you were close, welt responding in gentle praises and reciprocation. the coil in your gut loosened with intense euphoria, ecstasy washing over you and your tight muscles. welt chased after his high with a few erratic and intense thrusts into you, a guttural sound leaving his lips. his head lolled onto your shoulder lazily, welt catching his breath as his grip on your sheets loosened.

“are you okay?” welt whispered, breathing heavily.

“yeah, i’m okay. are you?” you replied.

“…i’m okay. i’m great, honestly,” he said with humor in his voice.

“we should probably head back, your friends might be worried about you.”

[redflagshipwriter]

Nest Swap 4 progress

Now with 200% more bat!

masterpost

“Alright, have a good day.” Tim handed the clipboard back to a stone-faced delivery guy and took the package from Miss Fox back to his technology lair. He got a glass of water on the way down and then went about reproducing the experiment that Tam asked for.

She wouldn't give him details. But from the instructions and reported results, Tim was pretty sure that some employee had misrepresented their process. To what end, he didn't know. He was just the science guy, not a detective guy.

Although if he had to guess he'd say that they had switched out a needed chemical to hide that the supply was lower than recorded.

But whatever. That wasn't his business.

Tim happily went about science, recreating a corrosive liquid that would supposedly eat through reinforced metal. He had to make the Wayne tech protective coating for the metal as well to do the experiment properly. When he finished that he carefully dipped metal sheets in it and set them to drip dry. Then he turned back to the acid project.

Supposedly, the acid had been a failure. Tim thought it should work. Apparently Tam did, too.

The screens around the room all went black. He wasn't even using them but it was a hard thing to miss in your peripheral vision.

Tim groaned. “What now?” He asked the room. He clanged a piece of metal to the tabletop. “I am trying to finish this.”

Had he tripped some kind of security protection? Maybe they had all gone to sleep without getting a password at spaced intervals?

To be perfectly clear, Tim did not expect any kind of response.

Therefore he was startled halfway out of his skin when a female laugh came barrelling out of the speakers of the largest mounted screen.

He crossed his arms in a sulk.

“Tim?” She asked, after she caught her breath. “You're tiny.”

His face was catastrophically cranky: he could see it reflected back in the black screen. It was a perfect replica of Janet Drake discovering after she had formatted her latest paper in Chicago Style that the publication required the savagery of MLA formatting.

She laughed again. It ended with a hiccup.

‘Whoever this is, she can see me. She must be someone who knows me if I gave her that kind of access.’

“I'm not sure we're friends,” Tim announced, because it was time to face the facts: these people all knew a version of him, and that Tim was bigger. At least like, three inches. “I'm aware that I am small. I am working on it.” He glowered at the computer she seemed to be using.

It would take what, two years top for a major growth spurt? They could just chew bubblegum until then.

“Is that what you're doing now?”

Tim sighed. “No, I'm doing something for Tam,” he admitted. He scrubbed at his face with a hand. “Probably a good time for a break.” He started to tidy up.

“Yeah, so, I guess I can tell Dick that you haven't been kidnapped by lions or whatever it is he's talking about,” the lady said. The line turned to static for a second, then back just as quickly. “You, uh, need some help?”

“Absolutely not.” Tim shook his head in a sharp, decisive Jack Drake movement. “I don't need to be babied.”

“...I can see why you think you're in danger of it.” She snorted again. “Unblock Dick, please, he's got delicate feelings and I think we both have plans for tonight that don't involve him scaling your walls to find a way in.”

“....I'll unblock him,” Tim took the L gracefully. “I appreciate your silence on this matter.”

She snorted again. “Sorry.” She didn't sound very sorry. “It's just- your little businessman voice is so funny. I'm sorry, Tim.”

He looked up at the ceiling for patience.

“Oracle out.”

All the screens returned to normal. Tim let out a big long sigh and went back upstairs, taking his empty water class with him. At least he had a name, right? Oracle. He'd gotten a call from Oracle.

He mentally arranged the facts as he trudged up the stairs.

Fact one: he had replaced a Tim, who was Tim Drake-Wayne. (Upsetting information).

Drake-Wayne had to be fundamentally the same Tim as he was, given that both Tam and Oracle had immediately recognized him.

Fact two: Tim D-W was a vigilante.

Fact three: That was really cool.

Tim reached the top and made a mental note to enroll in some martial arts classes when he got back home. If he had potential to fight crime, of course he was going to do that. He unblocked Dick: oh no, Dick Wayne. He'd blocked Robin. He felt mortified. It was so obvious in retrospect. He put the phone down on the table, stomach twisting in social agony.

The phone immediately lit up with messages.

Well. Robin should be less annoying, if he didn't wanna get blocked.

He clambered onto the counter to search through for anything that would make a good lunch.

“... I'm terrible,” Tim complained. He stuck his head fully into the cupboard as if there might be something good at the back. “This sucks!”

Alright. Something had to be done. Tim decisively climbed down, using an open drawer as a step. He shut it with his heels and then went in search of a wallet. He needed a credit card and to find a delivery service.

He was going to act on faith that big Tim D-W wasn't going to ruin his life, even though he was a loser. Tim was doing a great job keeping Tim D-W’s life afloat. That merited some payment.

He converted that payment into a huge order to a grocery delivery service. He referenced Tam’s package to get the address.

The order was simple: fruits, breakfast meat, lots of bakery bread, and sandwich fillings. He was going to have tuna salad with cucumber and lettuce. He was going to learn to make egg salad. Optimistically, he even added melty cheese to the order and a can of tomato soup mix: grilled cheese couldn't be that hard, right?

He rounded off the order with lots of individually packaged drinks: milk and juice boxes, cans of grape Zesti, and hot cocoa powder.

"…This is so exciting,” Tim said to his empty apartment. His. In a very real and meaningful way, it was his apartment. He was totally unsupervised. Neat!

The phone buzzed again. When he picked it up it said “Jason.”

Tim blue screened. Tim dropped the credit card with a clatter. It disappeared under the table and he didn't even think to look for it.

Jason. Omigod, Jason. Jason was a person who existed. He'd forgotten.

All the pieces came together in a beautiful flash of light. He wasn't in a troubled huge age-difference relationship with Bruce (21 year difference) or Dick (9 year difference) . He'd gotten married to Jason Wayne, the kid that Bruce had brought home like a day ago according to the Gotham Gazette. (3 year difference: normal.)

The phone was still ringing. Tim picked it up with numb fingers. “Hello?”

“Hey, Timbers,” said a male voice. It was low, rough, and impatient. “You freaked Dickiebird out and he's been squawking at me all day. Tell me how many pieces you're in.”

Tim looked down at his body. “Just the one,” he said, voice coming out breathy. It felt like his being was floating outside his body. Wow. This was his boy- no, husband? Holy moly. He couldn't cope with that, he had to stick with boyfriend. He bit his lip. He had to make a good impression.

“...You sound about 10 years old there,” Jason said. He didn't hide his amusement. “You been huffing helium, babybird?”

Tim went bright red at the pet name. Painfully red. His face was on fire.

Jason took his silence as a response. “Alright, alright, keep your clothes on. You must be sick as fuck, poor thing. No wonder you didn't come out to play last night.”

Tim slapped his hands on his face and tried not to hyperventilate.

“I wasn't calling for Dick, don't get it twisted.” Jason cleared his throat, tone a little odd. “I picked up on something - I think one of my ongoing cases dips into your patrol area. You gonna come out on patrol tonight?”

“...No,” Tim said. There was no way that would go well. He didn't know martial arts yet.

Jason cursed, but he didn't sound mad about it. “Fair enough,” he muttered. “Uh, think you could do some surveillance for me?”

Tim nodded. Then he felt dumb and cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

…He felt even dumber. What should he say? This was his boyfriend. The stakes were so high. He had never wanted anyone to like him more.

Jason rattled off an address. It, like everything Jason had said, was going to live inside Tim’s head forever in perfect clarity. “Thanks,” he added after, a bit begrudgingly. “This guy's real fucking sick, been making human sausage.”

Tim… wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but it sounded really bad. “I'll do my best,” he promised.

“Yeah…” Jason trailed off. “Maybe you should take a nap, some meds. That's a terrible hoarse throat. Don't kick your own ass on my account, okay?”

“Okay,” Tim helplessly echoed, and hung up. He sat in silence for a solid minute afterwards.