#so on one hand it’s not too bad if i take it a bit slower

[cynicalmusings]

i’ve barely written any hmc today, which suffice to say isn’t great. i thought chapter sixteen would be easy to write, but that is not the case. the main thing holding me up is how to slip details, foreshadowing, exposition, etc. into the dialogue without it coming across as too obvious or unnatural. i’ll get it done eventually, but unless the writing gods shine every ounce of their power on me, it definitely won’t be by the end of the weekend.

[tetragonia]

Please Don't be Afraid of Me

Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Arguing with Rafe is your daily meal, but this time he almost did something that could break you for life.

warning: mentions of (Y/N)'s father being abusive, toxic relationship, Rafe almost going a bit aggressive, trauma, no mention of (Y/N)

note: I really need a good angst and why not write one myself? I hope this one hurts you as bad as it hurts me :')

words: 800+

The air between you and Rafe crackled with tension, the argument escalating faster than either of you had intended. You both were standing near the docks, voices rising, cutting through the quiet night. Your frustration had been simmering for days, ever since you caught wind of some of Rafe’s shady behavior again—money missing, deals going wrong. You had confronted him, and it spiraled from there.

“You think you can just keep pulling this crap, Rafe? You think nobody notices what you're doing?” your voice was sharp, each word laced with anger. What you two have was toxic, you knew deep down. But somehow it was very rewarding, all those kisses and makeups you two would do after an argument.

But this one was different.

“Don’t act like you know me,” Rafe shot back, his jaw clenched. “You don’t know half the things I’m dealing with.”

“Then tell me!” you snapped, stepping closer, eyes blazing. “But no, you’d rather lie, cheat, and then act like the world owes you something!”

Rafe's temper flared, his hand instinctively raising mid-argument, more out of frustration than intent. But the movement—sudden, aggressive—made you freeze.

You body reacted before your mind could catch up. You flinched, taking an instinctive step back, your eyes widening in a flicker of fear. In that split second, Rafe’s hand hovered mid-air, his anger dissolving as guilt crashed into him.

He hadn’t meant to do it. He hadn’t even realized how much his action mirrored something... darker, something that triggered a deep-seated fear in you. But seeing you flinch, seeing you step back from him, it hit him like a wave of cold reality.

“Baby, wait—” Rafe dropped his hand instantly, his voice softer, filled with an unfamiliar urgency. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, were suddenly wide with regret.

He took a cautious step forward, but you moved back again, your breath shallow, still caught in the reflex of fear.

“I’m not him,” Rafe said, his voice low, almost pleading. “I’m not your father.”

Your chest tightened, the comparison too raw, too close to home. You blinked, fighting back the tears that were threatening to surface. Your heart pounded in her ears, but Rafe didn’t move again. He stood there, watching you, a rare vulnerability in his expression.

“I wasn’t going to—” he stammered, rubbing his hand through his hair. “I’d never... hurt you.”

You didn’t say anything, still processing the way your body had reacted, how automatic the fear was, how much he reminded you of the volatile moments with your dad—moments you spent years trying to forget.

Rafe took another step forward, more cautiously this time, his movements slower, gentler. “You...” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean—”

You couldn’t look at him directly, your mind torn between the image of Rafe you knew and the shadows of the past that haunted you. The tension in the air had shifted, no longer angry but filled with a raw, uncomfortable truth.

He reached out again, but this time there was no threat in his gesture. His hand hovered near you, waiting, offering. “Please don’t be afraid of me.”

You’s heart thudded painfully in your chest, your breathing still uneven. You swallowed, glancing at his hand. You hated yourself for flinching earlier, for letting him see that side of you, but you couldn’t deny that he had triggered something deep. Something you weren’t ready to confront.

Still, there was something in his voice, in the way he had softened so suddenly, that made you hesitate. Rafe wasn’t the man you had grown up fearing, wasn’t the man who left you with scars both seen and unseen. He was a mess, yes, but this... this was different.

Slowly, tentatively, you took a small step toward him, meeting his gaze. You saw the guilt there, the sincerity. The storm in your head started to calm, just slightly.

Rafe didn’t move again, letting you come to him at your own pace. His hand was still there, waiting. And when you finally closed the gap between them, you let out a shaky breath. You didn’t flinch this time as his hand gently touched your arm, his grip soft, reassuring.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice breaking through the quiet.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to steady yourself. “Just... don’t ever do that again,” you murmured, your voice barely audible, but firm.

“I won’t,” Rafe promised, his thumb brushing against your skin lightly. His touch was tender, so unlike the rough edges of his usual self.

For a moment, neither of them moved. They stood there in the quiet, the intensity of the argument fading into something neither of them had words for. You’s heart was still racing, but not out of fear now. It was something else. Something unfamiliar, something you weren’t sure you could handle.

But as Rafe stood close, his touch warm and steady, you realized that you didn’t want to step back anymore.

[simporado]

bakugo x gn!reader, nsfw mdni

i like to imagine when Katsuki hasn’t done it with you in a while, then you finally have the time to do it, he goes a bit feral and he accidentally pops the bones of your spine, like cracking knuckles LMAO.

Bakugo is very calculated and takes the time to pace himself when he’s pleasuring you both. But that kinda goes away when he’s pent up, y’know? His thrusts are still deep, but they’re faster. He moans louder and longer as he looks down at where you two connect. His hands tighten then loosen as it roams around your body because he feels too good, and it makes him unable to keep his hands in one place.

“Oh, baby, baby,” he pants in between his long moans and grunts, and you clamp down harder on his cock whenever you hear how loud he is, how good you make him feel.

He adjusts his hands to hold onto your waist, then thrusts ruthlessly fast against your ass. The loud squelching sound along with skin slapping fills the room. And then three cracking sounds was heard simultaneously.

“Ah— Ohhhhh…”, you moan, slumping a bit when he pauses upon hearing the popping sound. Katsuki’s face frowns in confusion, “What the fuck was that? Babe, are you okay?” He asks, leaning a bit to the side to check your face for any pain.

“You cracked my spine.” you chuckle breathlessly, and his eyes widen then looks between you and your back.

“Shit, my bad. Was going harder than usual, huh?” Katsuki chuckles, then flips you so you’re now in missionary. You wrap your arms around his shoulders after he fixes the hair away from your face. He kisses you sensually, then starts thrusting again. His thrusts are slower but deeper this time, a telltale sign that he’s calmed down a bit.

Its not long before you both climax, moaning into each others mouth as your tongues dance with each other. Katsuki pulls out, not before kissing you deeply one last time. He stands up to grab a wet towel and sits back down on the bed.

He gestures for you to sit up with a jerk of his hand holding the towel, and you sit higher against the pillows. “M’sorry I went too hard. How’s your back?” He asks as he as he wipes you clean while rubbing your back. “I’m fine, and don’t be sorry. I needed that.” You laugh.

“Tch, you should remember to stretch from time to time. Y’gunna have scoliosis if you don’t.” He scolds lightly, and you laugh at his ridiculous warning.

“You help me stretch all the time, though.” You say, winking at him as you pull him close to peck his lips. Katsuki tosses the damp towel onto the nightstand and wraps his arms around your middle,

“Shut up.” he says. Then, you both snuggle to sleep.

[zweiginator]

imagine you’re using arts phone cause urs died or wtv and you stumble on him and patricks convo and cause ur hella nosy you go through it and it’s then saying the FILTHIEST things about you sending each other shitty yet lewd pictures of their dicks mid strike… like kat zimmerman all over again 😫😫😫

Yes …… and art is a little out of it just not thinking because he’s hanging out with you, and you’re asking him for help!!!

So of course he gives you his phone to use and he’s just kinda standing there with his hands in his pockets not knowing what to do while you’re trying to call an Uber, muttering how you’ll pay him back.

And Patrick is sending him tons of texts, just spamming the fuck outta art.

Yo are you with her?

What is she wearing

Don’t leave me hanging

they can’t be talking about you, surely not. You barely know Patrick or Art. Art you know more due to the fact that you had a class with him last semester. You had met Patrick a few times when you went over to their shared apartment to study a couple times.

But nothing notable happened. Just studying, awkward small talk—that’s it.

You’re curious, and open their messages, scrolling to the beginning of the day.

Patrick complains about not being invited out.

Sorry it’s a Stanford thing, Art responded.

I can’t wait to see her

The messages start out sweet.

Can’t wait for you to tell me exactly what she’s wearing , patrick said.

Another one from Patrick underneath.

What I’d give to cum all over those tits

It doesn’t surprise you to see Patrick’s texts; you don’t know him as much. But you know Art. He’s sweet. Cute. Nervous and antsy.

Me too

Innocent enough.

Art sends another text.

I’d fuck her face until she cried

Your face grows hot. Art is looking at his watch, tapping his foot.

Bet her little pussy is so tight, what if we shared it

And then a video. You make sure the volume is down; you’re sure it would be pornographic had it been turned on even slightly. Patrick bucks his hips up, fucking his hand. His mouth hangs open, veins in his cock pulsing. His phone , propped up on a book, falls over from the force of his thrusting. His cock is huge. It’s almost scary.

Art sends one back; he sends it along with a text: I’d love to fuck her with you. he spits in his hand slowly. It drips into his palm. He coats his shaft, the pink head, even his balls. Spit drips onto the chair beneath him. He’s slower, more deliberate. You accidentally turn the volume up a bit. Art’s moans are soft, they grow into desperate groans. He moans your name—and then he moans Patrick’s.

Art’s face is white. You realize you outed yourself. No, you shouldn’t be looking through his phone—but is he really going to be mad at you after what you found.

“Oh fuck. Um-“ he doesn’t even know what to say. Nothing about this is redeemable. There’s no excuse, no way out. You’re the girl he has daydreamed about marrying and you just saw perverted homoerotic texts, and he and Patrick jerking off. Together.

You find it cute, how embarrassed he is. And the sick part of you—which takes up more of your brain than you’d like to admit—is flattered that they long for you like this. Want to fuck you this bad. You turn his phone off and hand it to him.

“Tell you what. I’ll just sleep over at your place tonight. That shouldn’t be a problem right?”

Art shakes his head. “No, not at all—you’re more than welcome.”

“I really didn’t know you and Patrick were so close.”

Art wants to fucking die.

[gracieheartspedro]

Who We Are

pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller

description: when your father falls ill, his patrol partner and best friend, joel miller finds a way to aid in his recovery. but this solution is complicated and requires you to take on a week-long hunt for supplies and resources. being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in evenutally.

word count: 17k words. this one is a LONG ONE. get a snack.

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, illness that requires medical intervention, blood, guns, killing of infected, forced proximity, joel is kinda pervy?, talks of loss of family members, joel lies about his past, oral (f receiving), face sitting, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, dirty talk, creampie, after care.

author's note: ... hi folks! this one is a long one, so like I said, grab a snack and get comfy! I was going to make this multiple parts but I'm eager and unhinged. to be honest, this story is better as one big one shot anyway. I had a very intense time editing so I know I probably missed some things. I may write little branch off stories if you guys enjoy it enough. anyway, enjoy! <3 lemme know what you think!

“Didn’t know you were workin’ tonight, darlin’,” Your father’s Southern drawl brings you out of your daze. You had been cleaning glasses for the last hour and a half. Surprisingly, the Tipsy Bison wasn’t busy on a Wednesday night. You had been keeping busy by cleaning and serving two visitors. 

You look up, noticing your father and his patrol partner wander into the bar. They find a seat at the bar, right in front of you as you dry some whiskey glasses. 

“I work every night this week, Pops,” You mutter, turning back to the liquor bottles to grab his favorite bourbon. You knew exactly what he came here for. He wanted to pester you on your shift and watch you write under his partner’s gaze. He thought your little crush was entertaining. You have made comments to your dad in the past about how you thought Joel was nice to look at and your Dad would just laugh. He would jokingly wiggle his finger at you and tell you to find someone your age. 

Little do you and your father know, Joel feels similarly about you. The first moment he saw you, he thought about how if he was a young buck, he’d lock you down as soon as he could. The age held him back initially, never even entertaining your subtle glances or welcoming smiles. Then when he realized who your father was, he immediately shut down all thoughts like that in his head. You were strictly off-limits.

“Well good, keeps you busy.”

You did not enjoy the idea of working every weeknight with a bunch of drunks, but this job was a bit better than constantly shoveling horse shit. Instead, you got to mingle with the locals. Maybe find yourself a man, since you were in your early thirties and unmarried.

Joel loved coming to the Bison when you were here. It meant he got to drink a whiskey neat and watch you twirl and rush around the bar. Tonight was slower, though, so he got the privilege of speaking with you, which was rare. 

You pour your Dad his bourbon, finally glancing up at his partner who’s practically ogling at you. You made a conscious effort to avoid his piercing brown eyes. 

Joel Miller was a dream boat, god damn. Every time he glanced in your direction, you would freeze up and stutter out a very jumbled “hello”. He was quite guarded, never much to talk. When he did finally speak, you found yourself reeling over his deep voice. 

“Whatcha want, Mr. Miller?”

His lips twinged, his eyes flicking up to yours. He loves hearing you say that, he thinks to himself.  You hand off the bourbon to your Dad, waiting for a response. 

“Whatever he’s having is fine, sweetheart,” He says plainly, nodding toward the half-empty bottle. Your knees could buckle at the nickname, but you keep your composure. You can’t crumble that easily. 

You three slide into a conversation about their patrolling, what they found that day, and the game plan for tomorrow. You make a sly comment about how they needed to find some meaning in life other than patrol. Your dad laughs, and Joel just stares blankly at you. You instantly want to take back the comment and never speak again, ever. Instead, you just continue drying the glasses you just washed. 

When your dad finished his bourbon, you noticed his expression change from relaxed to pained. 

“You okay there?” You ask, grabbing his glass and placing it in the sink below the counter. He rubs his chest, letting out a deep guttural cough. Joel looks perplexed while you get closer and notice the blood splattering into your dad’s palm. 

“It’s nothing, just a cough,” He manages to say, his voice hoarse. You scan his face, knowing immediately that he’s lying.

“Bullshit, you’re coughing up blood,” You reach towards some towels, tossing them on the counter in front of him, “You should probably go get checked out, Dad.”

Joel quips, “Yeah, don’t need you getting sick when we are out tomorrow. Why don’t you stop by the infirmary before you go home?”

Your Dad just shakes his head, “You two are being dramatic. It’s nothing, I promise.”

Your Dad was known for downplaying his pain and sicknesses. You remember being a little girl traveling with him across the country and every time he got hurt, he’d just suck it up. He shattered his left pinky years ago and he resolved to just chop it off. So that’s what he did. He was lucky it never got infected. But he was known just to blow off all his ailments, reminding you he’s beat all the other odds. 

So instead of fighting with him, you just nod all the while, stealing a long glance at Joel. He’s finishing his drink and you can’t help but watch his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and you fixate on it for a bit too long. 

You’re brought out of the trance when he slams the glass down, his dark brown eyes drooping. Joel always looked tired, but you knew after the day they had, he was actually tired. 

You had a couple more hours at the Bison before you had to close up, so you bid them a farewell, reminding your Dad that you’d be home before he stumbles off to bed. He never slept much, he would just read in the living room until you got home usually. 

Joel waves you a farewell, thanking you quietly for the drink. 

“Don’t be a stranger,” You say as he turns his back to you to head for the door. He turns a bit, giving you a slight smirk as he reaches for the door. 

You spend the rest of your shift daydreaming about what it’d be like to be with a man. You spent most of your time in Jackson without giving much of the men your age a thought. More than half were taken, anyway. While you let your mind wander, you realize your imagination is placing Joel in the spot of all the made-up situations with this said man. 

-

You lock the bar door behind you, tugging on it to ensure it’s snug in the latch. The air was shifting, the cool warm summer turning into a slightly chilly fall. You wore a long sleeve today, luckily, or else you’d be shivering on your way home. The walk home wasn’t a long one. 

When you reach your front door, you realize the living room light is on. Dad’s awake.

But as you reach to turn the knob, you hear ghastly breathing from the other side. When you swing the door open, you see your Dad in his recliner, his hand over his chest. He’s dry heaving, trying to get out a cough. 

“Hey, hey,” You quickly race to his side, “Are you okay? What’s happening?”

He breathes in deeply, “I just can’t seem to catch my breath. Something isn’t right.”

You have never seen him so panicked. You nod, understanding that your next step is to get him to the infirmary. He should have gone on his way home. You didn’t know if anyone would be there and you surely didn’t know if they would be able to treat his symptoms. 

“Are you in pain?” You ask, grabbing under his arms to lift him out of his chair. He’s wobbly, so you keep your hand under his armpit and use your other free arm to balance him. He shakes his head. 

“Just weak.”

Your heart sinks. Never in your life has your father admitted to feeling weak or sick. It was like as soon as he got home, his body just gave out. You help him into his shoes and start your trek back towards the middle of town. You wish you didn’t have to walk him so far because it felt like with every 5 feet, his lungs were giving out and sending him into a coughing fit. You probably woke the entire town trudging him through the streets. When you get to the front step of the infirmary, you knock as loud as you can. Usually, they had an overnight shift nurse helping, having them watch over whoever was dragged there during the day. Dispensing medicine if need be. You knew a couple of the nurses, most of them your age or a bit older. 

When a familiar face opens the door, you feel a sense of relief. 

“Hey Sidney,” You greet her, sort of pushing your Dad into the room, still keeping your hands wrapped around his center, “Something’s wrong with Pops.”

She reaches out to help you with him, “Oh no, what’s going on?”

“Can hardly breathe,” Is all he can muster out. You look at Sidney, concern spread across your face. She nods, knowingly. 

Sidney was one of the nurses you trusted the most. She gave you stitches when you sliced your hand open on a glass bottle a couple of weeks ago. She was patient and gentle, always checking to see if you were doing alright as she sewed your skin together. She’s a former Firefly, probably in her 40s. She got trained by some doctors years ago so she knew a decent amount about all sorts of medical treatment. 

She takes hold of the situation completely, grabbing your Dad and walking him to a free bed near the door. She gets him to lie down and she starts scrambling for some supplies to do a quick once over of him. He looks pale and for some reason, very small, in the hospital bed. 

“It’s gonna be alright,” You say, poking his arm. You say it for him, but you mainly say it for yourself. He closes his eyes and nods. 

“Always is, kiddo.”

-

The news was not ideal. After observation and some tests, Sidney decided your father probably has pneumonia. The problem was, that Jackson was low on antibiotics and they would have to decide if your Dad’s case was urgent enough to give him some. 

It pissed you off, but you had to hold back your anger. This situation was out of Sidney’s control, but you knew exactly who to raise your voice to. Sadly, the city council was asleep in their beds, as it was 4 a.m. Sidney reassured you that she would ensure your father was looked after until the morning when they could discuss with everyone if it would be okay to give him some of the highly sought-after antibiotics. 

But for now, you should get some rest. 

Your father fussed at you while he was in and out of sleep, telling you that you needed to go home and sleep. Your body was plagued with exhaustion and your brain was hardly functioning. You would need to plead a good case, so even a couple of hours of sleep would do you good. You ask if you could occupy a bed nearby and Sidney agrees with a sympathetic smile. You curl up, trying to clear your brain of your racing thoughts. 

You can’t lose your father, he’s all you have. 

You need to remind the council of all your father does. 

You need him to get better. 

You need him. 

-

“We only have 4 vials of antibiotics,” Maria states, trying not to look you in the eyes. She feels horrible, but she knows deep down the rest of the council will probably reject your father using any. It was going to be a tough decision like this that made most of the people in the council think they were playing God, but it was real life. Would they give your 60-something-year-old father antibiotics for pneumonia or give it to a young child suffering from an infection? They had to think ahead and supplies were scarce. 

You cross your arms, waiting for the next shoe to drop. “And?”

Tommy stands up, knowing you will not like the next sentence. He practically guards Maria with his broad frame. He resembled Joel, with his dark hair and stern eyes. His were a bit softer. 

“We are low on resources, hun. We need to think ahead and ensure that the pros outweigh the cons of giving him one of those vials. You understand?”

“Why was this not a thought in the summer? When it was a good time to go seek some out? I just don’t under-”

“We had that sickness going around over the summer. Lots of people getting fevers. Before we knew it, Dr. Peters realized we were low. I had intentions to get out and try to find more, and trade with some people, but we just haven’t discussed it all yet. There’s a process. It was in the works.”

Your blood is boiling and your patience running out. Each second of arguing was another second your Dad could be closer to death. 

“Well, it’s a shitty fuckin’ process. Where can I go to get more, then? Is there another community we can trade with? A hospital we can scavenge? You guys can’t expect me to sit around and wait for him to get worse.”

Maria looks to Tommy, trying to wrack her brain for a response. Tommy’s lip twitches, knowing exactly what to say. He did not want you to do it, but he knew how you were. You’d do anything for your family. 

“There’s a hospital in Salt Lake that I’ve heard is practically untouched. Fireflies used to reside there and do tests. They probably left behind some supplies.”

You narrow your eyes, “Salt Lake? Isn’t that a whole week away?” 

You start to pace the room, trying to console yourself. You can’t just leave for that long and assume that everyone will take care of your Dad. Tommy places his hands on his hips, trying to figure out a resolution. He liked your Dad, always going to him if he needed help around the commune. Your Dad is always one to offer a helping hand and give solid advice. He didn’t want to watch him die, either. 

“How about this,” Tommy huffs, “How about we give him one of our vials and you and Joel head out to Salt Lake to scavenge that hospital? If we are right in our assumptions, there’s probably a lot of resources there. And Joel’s been there before.”

“Why are you roping Joel into this?” You press, crossing your arms. 

“Joel knows where to go. He can get you there in one piece.”

“Where am I going,” Joel’s presence takes you by surprise. You turn back at the front door of the infirmary, seeing Joel’s disheveled hair sticking up in every direction. He had red cheeks, probably from the jog he did to get there. As soon as he heard about your father, he booked it from the stables to his side. 

Tommy shoots Joel a knowing look, “You and her are gonna go back to Salt Lake. You think they have antibiotics at that hospital you took Ellie to?”

Joel’s visceral reaction sends you. His heart practically stopped when Tommy brought up the hospital. 

You start to sweat when he does, realizing you would have to travel that far with Joel Miller. 

He swallows, shifting his weight to his other leg. “Probably. Why can’t ya just give him what we have?”

Maria shakes her head at his response, “We have a long winter ahead of us, Joel. We have four vials left. This saves us from a council meeting where they shoot down everything. They won’t approve it. If I reassure them that you are going to get some more, they won’t mind if we give him one.”

He huffs, scratching his chin in contemplation. You knew this would not be ideal for him, but you’re willing to do anything, even if you had to do it alone. The four of you stand in silence while Joel wracks his brain for an excuse to say no. None comes to him. 

It’s not that he did not want to help you, he just does not want to relive some trauma with you by his side. He would have to swallow back all his emotions, all the while you would be posted up right next to him. He does not want you to see him falter under pressure.

“She can’t go alone, Joel,” Tommy quips, gesturing towards you. You were shaking, your body reacting before your brain even could. Your nerves were shot.

He shakes his head, “And if they don’t have the supplies?”

You didn’t even think that far. 

“They will,” Tommy says, matter-of-factly, “It’s our best bet. The Fireflies disbanded, there has to be stuff left behind.”

You don’t know how Tommy knows all this, but he must have good sources to know all these things. Joel nods at him, accepting his response. He looks back at you, trying to figure out how you feel about the proposition by reading your face. 

“Does that work for you?” His deep voice isn’t meant to be intimidating, but you flinch anyway at the question. 

“I don’t have much of a choice. My Dad needs the medicine. If you guys think we can make it there and back in one piece, I’ll do it.”

“We will leave tomorrow morning. In the meantime,” Joel waves over Sidney, who’s still sitting by your sleeping and dazed father, “Give him one of those vials.”

-

Joel sacrificing his time and effort for your father was unfathomable to you. Sure, Joel was a great friend of your Dad’s, but he truly didn’t owe you two anything. It made you enamored with him even more. 

As the day shifted into the evening, you sat by your Dad’s bed and waited for the antibiotics to kick in. His body needed rest, you knew that much because he slept more than he probably ever had in his lifetime. 

He was sweating out a fever, so every so often you’d pat his head with a cold rag. He would mumble a quiet “thank you” and then return to snoring. As the sun sets, you welcome Sidney back for her night shift. She checked your Dad’s vitals, telling you his lungs are already sounding a bit better. You stretch and yawn, cracking every bone in your body while you do. You were stuck in the same position for so long, elbows on your knees, your chin propped up by your hands. 

You had a long trip ahead of you, and you couldn’t lie, you were scared half to death. You did not want to come back and find your father dead. You were also terrified about going back outside of Jackson. You spent most of your last 20 years living in the wild and shitty QZ’s. You were always on edge out there, and then you found Jackson. Ever since then, life has been a little more hopeful. You were able to form relationships and have some simple enjoyment, after all this time. 

Your Dad finally wakes up when you start stirring more. His one eye opens first which makes you crack a smile. 

“Mornin’ Pops,” You joke, grabbing his warm hand, “That antibiotic should start working soon. You’ll be better in no time.”

“Yeah,” He croaks, “But I heard you’re going somewhere.”

You bite your lip, afraid to stress him out. You knew he would worry about you, he always did.  

“Yeah, me and Joel are going to get more supplies. Nothing too drastic,” You lie, brushing your thumb over his scarred knuckles, “You trust Joel enough to take care of me?”

It was the first time he laughed in the last 24 hours, “Course he will. He knows how much you mean to me. If he fucks up, he will get a load of me, that’s for sure.”

His voice was reassuring to hear, especially since he’s joking with you. 

“Okay, I believe you,” You mutter, “We leave tomorrow morning, so I need you to be good and get all the rest you can. I want you up and moving when I get back, you hear me?”

“Roger that, kiddo.”

-

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Your tone is sarcastic and Joel can tell. You did not expect to be stuck with Joel Miller alone for a week, especially outside the walls. 

He clears his throat as he finishes packing up his horse. 

“Mornin’,” He grumbles, patting his horse’s mane, “Let’s get you all set up. You’ll be takin’ your Dad’s horse, Ranger. He is already saddled up, just need to get your stuff on there.”

Luckily, you packed light. You brought a couple of changes of clothes, some food, some camping gear, and of course, your gun. 

Joel helps you tie down your bag and ensures all the straps he just put on are tight enough for you. You just watch him, enjoying how just takes control of the situation. He had the father instinct, always making sure everything would be safe and secure for the girls he loved. Or liked. Whatever.

You thank him, grabbing onto the saddle and flinging yourself up onto the horse. Ranger was truly your favorite horse in all of Jackson. He was the best behaved and the biggest. His mane was long and black and he loved to be brushed. You spent a lot of evenings riding him for fun, just enjoying his company. 

Joel gets on his horse, adjusting how he sits before he takes the reigns and guides you towards the main gates of Jackson. 

“You still sure you’re ready for a run like this?”

He’s giving you a chance to back out. But this was now an obligation. If you didn’t do this, you would indebted to everyone. You would be the person to blame if someone’s loved one died. Not really, but you felt that guilt. 

“Readier than I’ll ever be, Joel.”

-

“How is Ellie doing?”

You were burning to make conversation. You needed to rid your mind of all the anxiety surrounding your own life. Joel was too quiet, it made you feel queasy. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts. You were about 20 miles outside of Jackson, the sun was coming up through the foliage. 

He inhales sharply, “She’s a teenage girl. She’s grumpy.”

You grip onto the reigns of your horse, your body swaying back and forth with the trot. 

“I remember being that young and being constantly annoyed by my Dad’s nagging,” You chuckle, remembering the days of angst, “Are you annoying her, Joel?”

Joel scrunches his face at such allegations. If anything, Ellie was annoying him. 

“Course I’m not! Just… want to make sure she’s doing good. Which she is. Everyone tells me ‘bout how helpful she is.”

You think back to the last interaction you had with Ellie. She had been helping out at the stables when you were in charge of feeding and cleaning the horses before you got the job at the Tipsy Bison. Ellie wanted to know everything you knew, pestering you with silly questions like what their names were and why they were named what they were. 

“She’s very helpful,” You acknowledge, thinking about how enthusiastic she always was about learning, “You raised her right.”

He huffs, “Was hardly me. She’s just smart and raised herself.”

You did not quite understand the history between Joel and Ellie, but you knew Joel was not her biological father. You had no clue how they found each other or when. But you could see the love Joel had for Ellie. You remember him lighting up when he explained to you and your dad how she was the best shot amongst the recruits. 

Joel will probably never indulge you in the specifics of his relationship with Ellie, simply because it’s complicated. He never felt the need to explain himself to anyone but Tommy. 

“You had a hand in some of it, Joel. Give yourself a little credit.”

But Joel was never good at that. He was hard on himself, weary to accredit any of Ellie’s behavior to himself. 

The rest of the ride was occupied with the sound of leaves rustling. Joel spots a fallen tree that he says would be a good eating spot. You agree, hopping down off your horse with ease. You tie his reins up on a nearby branch and start digging through your saddle bag for the apple you packed for yourself. You were sick with unease all day. With everything going on in your life, the last thing on your mind was hunger. Plus, you were alone with a man that you had to put all your trust in. 

You pop a squat on the chipping bark and get out your pocket knife to start cutting the red fruit. Joel gets out a bag of jerky from his pack and finds a spot next to you. He looks over at you, perplexed at your food choice. 

“Just some fruit?” Joel interrogates, instantly knowing your hunger cannot be satiated by apples. No one can be satisfied with only fruit. 

Your stomach churns at your first bite, “Just not that hungry.”

That’s all the explanation he needs. You watch as he starts to munch on his bagged meat, cringing at the sound of his mouth. You try to block it out, but it’s eating away at your brain. You hated the sound of chewing, it was such a stupid pet peeve, but you couldn’t help yourself. Joel is oblivious, probably not even hearing how loud he’s being. You smack his arm out of instinct, something you did to your dad when he was being too obnoxious. 

He looks down at you with furrowed brows and annoyed eyes. 

“You’re eating too loud,” You say, wanting to smack yourself at how stupid it sounds out loud. 

He looks away, completely flabbergasted at the reaction. “Eating too loud? Really?”

You feel embarrassed for letting your brain get the best of you. So you just cut more of your apple off and slowly crunch on it. You try your best not to hyper-fixate on your chewing. When you’re in a trance, lost in your thoughts, Joel nudges you back. He’s getting you back, now. 

“Now you’re chewing too loud,” He jokes, popping another piece of his jerky in his mouth, “Should probably keep it down. So loud you may attract some infected.”

You can’t help but smile at his stupid rebuttal. You give him props for making you feel less foolish. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, eating another slice intentionally loud, “Can’t help myself. They are just so crunchy.”

You hear him giggle, his smile easing your churning stomach. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll forgive you this one time.”

-

You knew the ride to this hospital would be long, but you didn’t realize how barren the landscape would be. You also didn’t realize how bad your ass would hurt. You and Joel finally pull off into some woods when the sun starts to set. Joel acts like he knows exactly how to navigate the woods, guiding his horse deeper and deeper. In between some large trees, you spot a lake. 

“Wanna go swimming?” You question after hours of no conversation. He glances back at you with a sly smirk on his face. When you look to your right, you notice a small path. Joel clicks his tongue for his horse to follow it. You two trot through the leaves, before coming upon a small decrepted cabin.

“This is us,” He states as he halts his horse. 

He had secretly always pictured taking you out here. He could not help but insert you into his small fantasies. Some nights he would imagine what it would be like to have you stick by his side forever. He always felt guilty afterward. 

You look at the building in wonder, completely speechless. You assumed you would be camping on the forest floor, not in an intimate cabin by a lake. You swing your leg over and slide off your saddle. Joel starts to tie up his horse nearby and you follow suit. You continue to look at the cabin, curious as to who kept up with it. It looked well maintained, besides some cobwebs at the peak of the roof. 

“Is this yours?”

He shakes his head, “No. Technically Tommy’s. He goes this way to get to another settlement about 50 miles south. He found this place on a whim and cleaned it up.”

You look around the area, seeing there’s even a fire pit right by the water. It had chairs and stones to outline the charred wood. You could not help but imagine what this place was before Tommy found it. How many fun nights were probably spent here by the original owner? If you had no one to go back to, you would just live here. But the more you think about that scenario, you think about how lonely you would probably get. Maybe if you had someone to stay with you. 

You finally look back at Joel. He’s standing on the stone path with his eyes locked on you. You get self-conscious for a moment, realizing he probably noticed how entranced you were with the surroundings. 

That’s exactly what he was thinking, too. How beautiful you stood in the shadows of the trees, your eyes curiously glancing around like a kid in a candy shop. You had him wrapped around your finger without even knowing it. 

“You good if we stay here overnight? Get back on the road tomorrow?”

How could you ever say no to an offer like that? 

You nod, swallowing back your insecurity, “Yeah, for sure.”

-

Joel could build a good fire. Watching him gather all the wood and place them into a perfect formation. As soon as he lights it, it builds and builds. When the warmth envelopes you, you start to finally feel at ease. Joel sits down with a stick, nudging the fire every so often.

He felt guilty. He felt like he was betraying your father, a man who was trusting him with his daughter. He should not be imagining how a little life in the woods would look like with you. He should not be picturing how beautiful you would look underneath him. He should not be having these devious thoughts about you. His eyes are trained on the flames as they build, trying to push those daydreams away. 

When his sleeve lifts as he toys with the charred wood, you notice the watch on his wrist. It looks ancient, the face of it shattered. You don’t realize you’re staring at it until he snatches his hand away from your view. 

“Sorry,” You retract, sitting further into the chair, “Your watch is broken.”

He places the stick next to his foot, finally out of his head for a moment, “Yeah, I’m aware.”

You were so stupid. You know not to pry further, knowing there’s probably a story and you don’t feel like you’re at a stage with Joel Miller to dive deeper. He notices how small you making yourself, and it makes him feel bad. He never wants to make you insecure. 

“Your necklace,” He starts, trying to place your mind somewhere else. It was a feature on your body that he noticed ages ago, but he never tried to beg the question, so this seemed like a great time to move the subject along. “Is it a moon?”

You reach up to your throat, feeling for the necklace you never took off. It feels like he almost wants to see if you will spill your story first. He is bad at reading women, sometimes. Most of the time. 

“Yeah, it was my sister’s.”

He feels stupid, instantaneously. As soon as those words fell from your lips, he put his face in his hands. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Your feelings towards what happened 20 years ago were drastically different than how you feel now. You could still feel the horror and the pain you felt, but it wasn’t so gut-wrenching anymore. It honestly doesn’t even feel like it happened to you. 

You drop the crescent moon charm from your hands, “No, it’s okay. She died on outbreak day. She was a bit older than me, her name was Reagan.”

He looks up at you and just nods, taking in the information. You don’t know if it’s a gesture for you to continue to talk, but you take it as just that. 

“Her and my mom were at one of her soccer games when all hell broke loose. From what I heard, she was bit by one of her teammates and when me and my Dad were packing up our things to get out of there, I grabbed some of her stuff. A necklace, a sweatshirt, and her favorite pair of sneakers. I don’t know why. But yeah, this necklace is the only thing that survived 20 years. Sweatshirt got too small, shoes got too torn up.”

You don’t even notice the tears pricking in your eyes until you blink. You don’t even remember what she looks like, her face is kind of jumbled in your memory. You remember her hair though, long and brown and super curly. Joel just listens, his eyes trained on your hands as you nervously rub them together. When you peer up at him, you see the mutual pain written on his face. 

He thinks to his beautiful Sarah. His eyes fall to his broken watch. The pain is still very palpable. 

“‘m glad we have somethin’ from our people. Somethin’ to remember them by, ya’ know?”

You scan his broken watch and nod timidly. “Yeah, something to remember them by.”

-

You stand up after eating some more food you packed, ensuring you’re somewhat nourished before you go to sleep. Joel stares at the fire, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. He knows he has to sleep, but he knows you need it more. He’s willing to give up his hours for yours. 

“You want me to do first watch?” You quiz, hoping to get the answer no. Instead, he just shrugs. You cross your arms, a cool shiver going down your back as you step away from the fire. 

“I’ll start first,” He mumbles, grabbing his poking stick, “There’s a bed in there all ready for you. Get some rest, we got a long day tomorrow.”

You respond with a slight wag of your head, “Okay, goodnight, Joel.”

You turn on your heels and head towards the front door of the cabin. You creak the door open. It’s pitch black so you step back onto the small porch to grab the lantern Joel lit a while ago. You slowly creep through the one-room cabin, placing the lantern on the small table by the door. It lit up most of the room so you got a great look at the wooden framed bed, waiting for you to lay upon it. 

You feel a pang of guilt making Joel sit outside to guard you as you slept. You knew you needed rest. You also knew it would start getting colder and colder and that fire would die eventually. 

Joel could handle himself, after all. You would just have to push your worry aside. When you curl up onto the hard mattress, you think back to the last time you were left to trust another man to look after you as you slept. It was a traumatizing night, so instead of worrying yourself, you close your eyes and remind yourself that Joel is safe. Dad trusts Joel. Joel is a good man. 

Sleep eventually takes over, your soft snores rattling off the wooden walls. 

After a couple of hours, the shivering takes over Joel’s body, so he creeps into the cabin. The lantern is dimmer, slowly running out of fuel. He shakes his head, smiling to himself at your disregard for resources. He walks over to the small wood-burning oven, opening the door to it as quietly as he can. You don’t even stir. You’re a deep sleeper, he would remember. 

He starts a fire with the old coals, warming up the small space. Once he stands up from his squat, he hisses at the crack of his knees. He glances over at you, making sure he did not wake you. Nothing. 

You were a peaceful sleeper, your mouth slightly ajar. To Joel, you were always so beautiful. Not even just your looks, but your kind and reserved nature. You always gave him a delighted smile when he looked your way. You were dedicated to always being there for your father, which would always melt his cold heart. He would always watch you with a careful eye, praying that you would somehow get older or him, younger. He hated himself for admiring you so often, especially since he respected your father so much. But you were right there. 

He sat himself in the old recliner chair near the door, peaking out the window every so often. He would always find himself training his eyes back on you, watching your chest rise and fall slowly. 

It takes everything in him not to curl up next to you. 

-

The second day starts off a bit rough. 

When you wake up in the early morning hours, you take notice of a sleeping Joel in the corner of the room. You spring up, loudly rattling the bed frame. It sends Joel jumping out of his skin, his eyes flying open to look at you.

You are panting like you just ran a mile. 

“Jesus Christ, girl,” He barks, his tone tired but also vicious, “Thought someone had you at gunpoint.”

“You were sleeping!”

“Shit, yeah I was, wasn’t I?” His tone is more relaxed, sort of annoyed. He rubs his eyes, glancing outside. Your horses were still there and it doesn’t seem like you guys have been ransacked. 

You clench your fists, “You’re lucky we didn’t get shot in our sleep or something.”

He rolls his eyes, slowly rising from the chair he took over, “That’s a little dramatic, sweetheart. We are fine.”

After that comment, you did not want to talk to Joel Miller. 

You also start to question if you can trust him. He should’ve woken you up to take charge of the watch, but instead, he ignorantly fell asleep and risked your life. 

When you pack up to leave, he realizes how rattled you are. He wants to apologize, but he’s too stubborn to do so. You were being dramatic. But he shouldn’t have said that. He should’ve kept that comment to himself. He was never really good at holding his tongue, always saying the first thing on his mind. 

-

When the sun sets on the second day, Joel promises you two should be in Salt Lake the next afternoon. The whole day pretty much consisted of you two bickering about state capitals. He swears the capital of Pennsylvania is Philadelphia. 

“It’s not, it’s Harrisburg,” You would say. 

You also talked about times before the Infection. He mentions his daughter, Sarah, telling you about how she used to play soccer and she loved going to the Texas State Fair. It makes your heart happy to hear him light up about her, but it makes you want to cry hearing a father talk about his dead child. You can’t imagine that type of pain, and you hope you never do. He doesn’t even know why he’s suddenly baring his soul to you, but he starts to feel like his walls are falling away and he’s comfortable around you. 

He tells you about how he plays the guitar, which you lock onto quickly. 

“You’ll have to show me how good you are,” You smile, imagining Joel Miller strumming along to some folksy song you request. He can only imagine what type of music you would want to hear from him. 

“When we get home,” He mutters, “I'll give you a performance.”

“I cannot wait.”

The conversation with you was easy. You could get anything out of him, pretty much. You were a lot like your father, but softer. He enjoyed your company a bit more. Your laugh was infectious and you were a lot easier on the eyes, of course. When you two stop for a break, he watches as you look for four-leaf clovers on the forest floor. When you find one, you pick it up and bring it over to his hunched-down frame. 

“My mom used to say they were for love and luck,” You explain, “Think you need it for both.”

He knew you were joking by the way you giggle and return to your spot on the ground. He just shakes his head and sticks the clover in his jacket pocket. 

-

He was dreading being back in Salt Lake. He doesn’t want to relive that day when Ellie was practically ripped from him. It sent him spiraling just thinking about all the outcomes that could’ve transpired that day. 

He contemplates telling you for a few brief seconds. 

He wouldn’t have much to lose, especially now that everything is said and done. But then fear takes over and he wonders, would you judge him for it?

He imagines how you would react. How your nose would probably scrunch up, how your disposition towards him would soon contort into horror. You would probably call him a monster. You would probably never look at him the same way, with that beautiful smile and attentive gaze.

“You okay, Joel?”

You two were positioned on the edge of some woods off a dirt road. Joel didn’t want to attract anyone with fire, so you two decided you would just camp on the ground near the highway you would end up following to get into the city. 

“‘M all good,” He practically whispers, “Just tired. You mind gettin’ first watch?”

You just silently nod, watching him rise from his spot and move over to the sleeping bags you two had set up when you arrived. You watch as he awkwardly wiggles his large frame into a small sack. It makes you giggle a bit. He positions himself with his back to you, his front facing into the woods. He can’t spend his time staring at you like he would like to, he needs to sleep. 

You realize he has a leaf stuck on the back of his head. You couldn’t help yourself, it was going to bother you for as long as you were awake. You stand up and slowly creep up to him. 

You squat down and pluck the leaf out of his thick curls. His head snatches back at you, knitting his brows together in confusion. 

Secretly deep down, you just wanted to find a reason to touch him. 

“Can I help you?”

You give him a shit-eating grin, “Yeah, you just got leaves in your hair. It was going to bother me if I didn’t get it out. You’re very, very welcome.”

He rolls his eyes, “Can I sleep now?”

“Don’t know, I’m already getting bored without you glaring at me.”

You were now on a mission to annoy him, he guesses. 

Without thinking, he responds with a comment that would stick with you all night. 

“Yeah, you like it when I look at you, don’t ya?”

-

The homestretch was only about another 20 miles. You and Joel had made good time, only taking about three days to get to the hospital. After the subtle flirting with Joel the night before, you got a little more ambitious with your advances. 

Before you two took off to get to your destination, you asked Joel if you could change your clothes. You had mud all over your jeans and your shirt was reeking of body odor. The natural deodorants that were handmade in Jackson only did so much. 

“Yeah, make it quick,” He orders, pointing to a more private area of the camp, “There’s some bushes over there.”

“I’m not getting dressed in a bush, Joel. Just look away,” You test, already shrugging off your flannel. He notices your bold move, instantly peeling his eyes away from your direction. This can not be happening to him right now. 

“What the hell,” He murmurs, his hands propped up on his hips, “You’re doin’ this on purpose.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, “Doing what on purpose?”

“Testin’ me. Me and my patience.”

You throw your shirt over your head and grab one of your spare ones from your pack, “Well, if it’s a test, you’re passing with flying colors, Miller.”

He glances back at you without even really thinking, spotting you in your bra with a shirt covering your eyes. It’s almost like when you tell a child not to press a button, and it makes them want to do it even more.

He wanted to keep looking. 

“Fuck,” He says under his breath, trying to push those types of thoughts out of his mind. 

You shimmy off your pants, folding them as soon as you get them off your legs. You needed a shower so bad, you felt so filthy. 

“You think we could stop back at the cabin on the way home? I want to bathe.”

Thinking about you naked and taking a bath made his dick hard. 

“Yes,” He manages to say, “Hurry up, please!”

You grin at his frustration, “Fine, fine. I’m almost done.”

-

You and Joel trot along an abandoned highway, cars littering every lane. It was nothing new to you. You have seen plenty of cities in your lifetime. Each time was a bit different, but for the most part, they were all the same. Riddled with infected and bombed to shit. 

You think back to when Tommy said Joel had been here before. Your mind starts to wonder, and being that you still had a couple of hours before you got to see the actual hospital, you decide to speak up and ask. 

“When was the last time you were here?”

He thinks for a second. He was waiting for these questions. 

“Over a year ago.”

You shake your head, “Was there a reason?”

You had no business prying into Joel’s life, but you felt like after spending days with him, there was some kinship. Maybe even a friendship.

“Ellie’s mom was a Firefly. They had a base camp out here,” He explains, but would he go further? Would he spill all the beans?

It’s technically not his story to tell. But then again, Ellie didn’t even have the truth, so it was a story only he knew. 

You wait before responding, “Did you find her?”

“Who?”

“Ellie’s mom,” You press, glancing around some cars. You are trying to act like you didn’t care, but you could tell from the moment you entered the outskirts of the city, Joel was plagued with the weight of the atmosphere. His shoulders got heavier, his eyebrows further knitted together. He was tense. 

“No, she’s dead. So I brought her home,” He says, half-bending the truth. He’s lying, but not really. Ellie’s mom was dead but that was never the reason they came out here. He just wants to say it, but his chest feels like a weight is pushing down, almost cracking his ribs. He swallowed the guilt. 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

You didn’t have much else to say, letting the silence eat away at the prickle of your arm hairs as they stood up. You try to relax, but now that you are in the city, it feels real. You traveled all this way for medication so Jackson would not shun you. It sounded kind of stupid, coming all this way in hopes of a stocked Firefly hospital. 

You also traveled all this way with Joel Miller. You managed to speak to him without tripping over every word and poking fun at him. You watched him sleep at night, looking so peaceful in the woods surrounding him. You try to think about the last time you saw him smile. You saw him differently, now. He came all this way to help you and your dad. He is risking a lot, disregarding his duties back home, just so he can be with you and protect you. 

You ponder if things will be different when you get home. Maybe he would talk to you more when he came to the Tipsy Bison. Maybe he would wave back at you when you saw him around town. 

You secretly hoped being next to him for so long would change your relationship with him. 

Joel starts to ride next to you, studying your face as you stare forward. 

“What are you thinkin’ bout so hard over there?” He poses, watching your face twist when he speaks up. 

You lick your lips, “Thinking about what it’s gonna be like when I get home.”

“What do ya’ mean?”

You halt your horse to look over at him. He does the same. 

“We came all this way and I am scared when we get back, you won’t want to talk to me anymore.”

He shakes his head, a slight chuckle escaping his lips, “Kiddo, your dad’s my patrol partner. ‘Course, I’ll still talk to you. You’re always around.”

The nickname makes you cringe. You don’t want to be a kid to him. 

“Right, of course.”

-

When you get to the edge of the city, Joel starts explaining the game plan. How you will get to the hospital, do your sweep as quick as you can, and don’t meander around. He also explains how the exit plan is to drop everything, no matter what, and return to the horses. You see someone? Run. 

You want to say you know how to handle yourself, but you resist and just nod in understanding. 

To your surprise, you two do not run into any hoards. You turn a corner and spot a couple of infected twitching near an old school, and you two carefully back up and go up another block to avoid them altogether. You two don’t say anything to each other as you spot the hospital in the distance. Joel just points forward, having you trot at his side. 

You pull out your gun when you start to hear some clicking nearby. Joel gestures to you to be quiet and continues to the front of the hospital. You two ride your horses to the ambulance drop-off, parking them there. When you jump down, you start to grab your pack so you can fill it with whatever supplies you find. Joel does the same, throwing his leather backpack over his shoulder. You check the magazine of your gun and take off the safety. 

“Okay, we stay close to each other,” He explains in a hushed tone, “Grab whatever you think we need.”

You wiggle your head in agreement. He raises his rifle as you two enter the side door. The hospital is quiet besides the wind blowing through some shattered windows. You click on your flashlight that is attached to your backpack, making sure it’s pointed forward. The main corridor leads you down to some triage rooms and nurse's stations. Joel gestures to you to check out some triage rooms. You find some bandages and some tongue presses. You grab the entire box of bandages and stuff them in your bag. When you return to the hall, Joel is stuffing some of his finds in his pack. 

“No meds yet,” He grumbles. You two press forward, keeping your steps silent. You find some lab rooms off the main hallway and you two scope out each room carefully, your guns still drawn and at the ready. You find more items; some gloves, masks, and some scissors. You pick them up, stuffing them in your back. 

You hear movement from behind you and quickly spin. It’s just Joel, holding a couple of vials of medication. You rush towards him, using your light to see what the vials read. 

levofloxacin 

amoxicillin

“Jackpot,” You murmur, “Any more?”

He grabs a baggie sitting on a table nearby, “Not that I saw.”

You continue searching, not finding much of anything in the drawers. A lot of the stuff is picked through. 

You point to a central staircase, “Wanna go up?”

“Yeah, right behind you.”

Joel was reeling, spotting some areas where blood was splattered across the walls as he walked through the hospital. It was terrifying to put himself back in this exact spot. It felt like a fever dream. Now he had you with him, another person he cared too much about to admit to anybody, let alone himself. He cared about you in a whole different way than he cared about Ellie. 

You trail up the stairs, finding some old labs and nurse's stations. All were picked through. You couldn’t help but notice the blood all over the floor in some areas. You try to figure out what could have transpired here, but you don’t even try to beg the question to Joel. With the look on his face, you are afraid to say much of anything. 

Something bad happened here and he was a witness to it. 

It made you want to hurry up and spare his feelings. Instead of taking careful and methodical steps, you run room to room searching drawers and counters for anything of value. You find some alcohol swabs, safety pins, and some wrist splints. When you get to the last room in the hallway you’re in, you hit the jackpot. It’s a cabinet with some vials. 

You start to quietly read them off to Joel who’s standing on the threshold of the room. 

“Grab them all,” He says, pulling his pack off his shoulder so you can put some into his, “We can find use for ‘em.”

You also find some sutures and unopened syringes. You wish you could get down on your knees and thank whatever god is up there for blessing you with everything. You don’t believe in that though, so instead you excitingly grab Joel’s arm and shake it. 

“Let’s get this all home,” You smile, pressing your fingers harder into his bicep, “Maybe celebrate with something strong from the bar.”

Then you hear it. 

Click. Click. Click. 

Joel grabs your arm back, shoving you behind him. He slings his pack over his shoulder and you do the same. You never had many issues with killing infected, but you did not know what you were dealing with. It was dark and all too quiet for too long. Joel creeps forward, his gun drawn forward to peek out the door. When you do the same, he tucks you back behind him. 

Lining the hallway is about 3 clickers. Your stomach drops as they slowly make their way to the sounds you two made seconds ago. Joel glances back at you, his face very serious and stern. 

You can read the look on his face and being that you dealt with these fuckers before, you know that you need to be silent. He looks back down the hall, spotting an exit in a staircase that’s slightly blocked by one of the clickers. He waves you along as he slowly tiptoes down the hallway. You get closer and closer to the first clicker and your gun is trained right at them as you keep your distance. You can tell by the clothing that it was a woman at one time, the infection growing out of every crevice of her body. 

She clicks and clicks, but does not attack you. You and Joel continue, not making a sound as you shuffle past the next one. But once you get close to the one closest to the door, something snaps and it’s like they all realize exactly all at once. One squeals and the others follow suit. Joel yells for you to run, but you don’t budge, emptying your gun into the closest one. It crumbles to the ground. With that one down, Joel grips your wrist tightly and flings you towards the door. You two rush out as Joel lights up the hallway with gunfire. 

You now know that you’re attracting every infected in a mile radius so time is of the essence. You practically fall down the stairs trying to get to the bottom. Joel does not like how fast you moving, pressing you to run faster. You two sprint down the hallway as two runners come full speed at you from an opposing hallway. You try to shoot but your gun is empty. You scream for Joel to do something and he puts them down expertly. He’s spot on even with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. You find the door you came in from and quickly make your way to Ranger. He seems sort of spooked so you try to gingerly climb up him, grabbing his reigns from the pole you tied him to. Joel is quick to mount his horse. He pulls his horse back, guiding it to head back the way you guys came. 

You follow suit, hearing stirring from all around you as your hair whips in the wind. You are not worrying about the noise you two are making now, galloping down the once-busy streets of Salt Lake City. 

“Don’t stop til’ I say so!” Joel calls out. You can hardly hear with your heartbeat in your ears and the wind against your ear drum. 

You get to the edge of the city after about 20 minutes of dodging left-behind cars and random barriers. You get to the point where the foliage takes over and the infected taper off. You don’t realize it until you start slowing down and your heart gets back to its normal pace, you’re freezing. 

You yell out for Joel, who’s still going quite fast. He halts completely, letting you catch up with his step. 

“We have to stop, I’m freezing.”

You weren’t wearing all your layers and you knew it would be detrimental if you didn’t stop to wrap up before you two continued your journey. Joel nods, trotting off the main part of the road into some woods. 

When you get off your horse, you can feel Joel’s eyes lock onto your vibrating body. 

“Jesus, girl,” He dismounts, wrapping his reigns around a nearby branch, “The wind do you that much damage?”

You can’t help but laugh as you rifle through your pack to find your extra layers. You can remember packing two thermals, but with the way you’re shaking, you can’t even grip onto the clothes to move them around to search. You don’t even realize Joel has come to your side, you only notice when he nudges your side with his three fingers. You move out of his way so he can look, but you can’t help but feel the warmth his gentle touch gives you on your hip. 

He pulls out a thermal, handing it out to you. 

“Just put it over your other long sleeve,” He instructs, digging for another layer for you. You take his advice and throw it over your head. When your head pops through the neck hole, you spot him smirking at you. 

“If you don’t warm up soon, I may have to share my body heat so we can get back on the road,” Joel jokes, watching you pull your hair out of the back of your long sleeve. You didn’t hate the sound of that, truthfully. 

“Guess I will try my best not to warm up then.”

He shakes his head, grabbing onto your other thermal, “You can’t say stuff like that to me, darling.”

“Why not?”

Joel has slipped up a couple of times already, he wasn’t planning on giving in. But the teasing was fun and light-hearted. He knew in his heart it was not going to turn into anything. 

Right?

“Because I don’t think it’s a very good idea for us to talk like that to one another,” He explains, stepping back as you add the other shirt onto your already warming body, “May lead us somewhere we can’t come back from.”

You swallow, “Maybe I’d like that.”

-

It takes you a day and a half to get back to the cabin. Joel promised that you two could spend a whole day there if need be. You two were physically and mentally exhausted. The horses needed rest too, you could tell Ranger was beat. 

When you arrive on the property, Joel makes sure to scope out a radius before you two settle in. Ever since the sly passes you made at him, he’s been more quiet. You can tell he’s deep in thought. Maybe it wasn’t about you, but he had something on his mind. 

You use the fire stove to warm up some water from the lake to give yourself a quick “bath”. You just used an old rag and some bar soap to scrub your limbs, trying to get off all the caked-on dirt. Joel stayed outside by the fire, cooking up some squirrels he was able to trap. You stood in your undergarments, lathering your skin, watching him from the window as he poked at the fire. 

You felt a bit better once you were clean. The growl in your stomach was dull and kind of painful. You needed to eat, so you got your dirty clothes back on and headed outside to prop yourself up next to Joel. 

When you open the cabin door, his head snaps over to you. 

“Howdy, cowboy,” You gleam, walking down to the stump next to him. You couldn’t help but flirt now. It was funny to watch him squirm, the glint in his eyes not hard to notice. 

“You all clean?”

You nod, giving him a cheeky smile. “Yeah, now you go get yourself all cleaned up.”

He grabs his stick poker, “Don’t got any soap.”

“Use mine.”

Joel stops his motion immediately to train his eyes back on you. “You want me to smell like you?”

“Well, I smell delicious, so why not?”

He scans your body with his eyes, “Cause if we get home and your Dad smells your soap on me, he’ll put it bullet between my eyes.”

You know he’s being dramatic, finding any excuse to opt out of using the soap you just used on your body. 

“So, what you’re saying is,” You clear your throat before continuing, “If my dad wasn’t your friend, you’d lather yourself with my soap?”

He contemplates for a moment, “Yeah, and other things.”

Your heart stops beating for a second. Joel can not help but smirk at your reaction. He was playing with fire, literally and figuratively. The tension between you two was so heavy, that you do not think you could even take a deep breath in. 

He stands up from his spot next to you. “Why don’t ya eat, sweet thing? I have to clean myself up, I guess.”

-

Joel can not do this. 

You were his friend’s daughter. Sure you were grown, beautiful, strong-willed, and everything he could want and more but he could not take advantage of you. The only way he felt this way right now was because tensions were so high back in Salt Lake. You two have spent a lot of time together, the hormones… what the fuck is he thinking?

You sit by the fire, your stomach doing back flips as you think about Joel in the cabin, by himself, practically half naked. 

Why were you doing this to yourself?

Your heart is racing faster than it ever has. No clicker, no stranger, nothing has made you this nervous. Your hand reaches for the door handle, but before you can turn it, Joel rips open the door. 

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You stand there, dumbfounded. “I-I don’t know.”

He’s standing over you, his chest rising faster the more you keep your eyes trained on him. He has a green flannel on, the top couple of buttons undone. You lift your hand to touch the skin peeking through, but he stops your movements before you can make contact. You note the scent of wood burning in the cabin and it’s a lot warmer than you left it. Joel must have started the stove again. 

“We can’t.”

You shake your head, “No, we can’t, can we?”

You two know better. You know better. You know better. 

You are breathing in each other’s spaces. You don’t even want to look him in the eyes. His arm snakes around your midsection, pulling you forward into the cabin. At that moment, you knew that you two didn’t know any better. 

It’s almost like you two silently made the decision. 

“We can’t tell anyone about this, sweet girl,” He whispers, his hands still firmly on your back. You could not resist this temptation anymore. He was right in front of you, wanting you just as badly as you wanted him. 

Your eyes glance up at his dark sultry gaze, “It’s our little secret.”

His hand reaches up, gracing your chin with his touch. When he dips down to meet your height, you finally get bold and extend your hand up and around his neck. Your lips connect and you feel like a million little butterflies explode in your stomach. You had never desired a kiss from anyone as much as you did with Joel. 

He’s eager and impatient, though. He’s not as soft as you imagined for a man who hardly spoke. He just wants to feel you everywhere, all at once. His mouth melts into yours, his tongue exploring every inch of yours. He’s moving you around the room, stumbling over furniture and shoes as he backs you into the large wooden bed frame. 

“So fuckin’ perfect,” He mumbles into your lips as soon as he lifts you up onto the mattress. It catches you by surprise, mainly because you never expected him to manhandle you in this way. He’s hungry for every inch of you. After all these months of secretly pining for him and him not giving you any positive response, you never anticipated something like this happening. Especially at a time like this. 

“Joel,” You whine, pulling him down on top of you as you fall back into the flannel blankets, “I need you everywhere.”

He grins peppering kisses down your neck, “Don’t worry, I will treat you so fuckin’ good. Been wantin’ you for so long.”

It was so filthy and hot. Your dad’s patrol partner, his best friend. Keen to make you feel good? And wanting it for a while? You must be imagining his words because you can’t even comprehend the situation. 

But it’s true. Joel’s secretly been watching you when you’re not looking. When you sling drinks on Friday nights, he watches you from a booth in the corner. Tommy’s caught him a couple of times, smacking him and reminding him that you were off limits. When you came to his house with extra pot pie or soup, he would watch you walk away from his house from his living room window. 

This taboo yearning kept him up at night. But now, he has you alone and he needs a taste. 

He pulls back to look at your face, “Are you sure you want me?”

You can’t help but giggle a bit. 

“Joel, I’ve been wanting you for longer than I would like to admit,” You purse your lips as you bring your hand up to trace his collarbone, “Think about you all the time.”

It was the truth. Your mind was taken up but all his little sly comments. The way he would drop anything to help you or your dad. His beautiful brown eyes didn’t help one bit either.

“My god, girl…Gonna have me cumming in my jeans like a teenager.”

He returns to laying kisses all along your body. It started with wet kisses down your neck, only for it to trail right where your shirt begins, right below your collarbones. You push him back for a moment, taking your shirt off over your head. He watched you carefully, ensuring there was no hesitancy with your actions. He wanted to be absolutely positive that this is what you wanted. 

As soon as you reach for the clasp of your bra, Joel grabs your arms away. 

“Let me,” He mumbles, letting his fingers trace along the seam of the black fabric before using his right hand to undo the back. With him this close to you again, you inhale sharply, catching the scent of your soap. 

“See you took up my offer,” You tease, letting your bra fall down your shoulders, “Did you get clean just for this, Miller?”

He catches a glimpse of you under the bra and his mind goes blank. You notice his change in disposition and decide it’s best to discard every other article of clothing completely. You struggle to get your jeans off, so he helps by practically ripping them off your legs. He can’t help but spot the soak undies attached to your jeans. When you are bare under him, he gawks at you for a moment. 

“A beautiful woman like you,” He shakes his head, biting his lip. He unbuckles his pants before he stands and shoves them down his legs. While he’s making an effort to get as naked as you, you start unbuttoning his flannel. He watches you take your time, thumbing each button slowly. He tilts your head back up, his eyes leering at you for a moment. “And you want someone like me?”

You know he’s probably in his own head, so you feel the need to prove to him, that yes this is what I want. 

You grab onto his neck and pull him back down into a passionate kiss. When you notice him give in, you use all your might to push him sideways and onto his back next to you. You mount his lap immediately, holding him down with your body weight. Your soaked slit trudges over his large hard-on while you dip your head to capture his lips. You feel his hands trail up the sides of your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He finds your boobs, palming them with his warm calloused hands. You were extra sensitive so as soon as his fingers find your nipples, you’re moaning into his mouth. 

When your hips jet forward, his tip slides between your pussy lips. The sensation sends him into overdrive, his grip on your waist getting tighter. He’s so fucking big. 

“No foreplay, you just wanna grind your pussy right onto my cock?” His question sends shockwaves through your body and you raise your hips up off his crotch. You kneel over him, anticipating to rotate your pelvis back onto him, but he has other ideas. 

Because Joel has been thinking about what you taste like for too long. He can’t just fuck you. He lays back, all the while, dragging you up to his chest so your pussy is hovering over his pursed lips. 

“Joel, what are you doing?”

You feel his hot breath huff onto your slick center, “I’m gonna devour this beautiful pussy, first. Need to get you warmed up.”

Without any warning, he wraps his arms around your thighs and pushes your center closer to his outstretched tongue. You gasp when he starts to run his tongue up and down your slit. You can’t help but settle around his face, your knees feeling like they may already give out. 

You’ve never sat on someone’s face and watched them eat you out like a starved man. But Joel is precise with his motions, his mouth wrapping around your clit. When he starts to suck, the suction noise makes you whimper and shake. You have only ever cum by your own hand, so when the familiar heat rises in your stomach, you know instantly this is going to be the best sex you’ve ever had in your life. 

Joel is a very easy man to please. He thoroughly enjoys watching women crumble above him, their orgasms surging through their bodies while his tongue is pressed into them. But with you, he wants to drudge it out of you over and over again. You’re so magnetic on top of him, your head thrown back in pleasure. Your hands rest on your shoulders as you grind down on him, your peak teetering the edge. He shimmies his hand in between your thighs and begins to use his fingers in you, just to drive you crazier. He’s fucking up into you with his pointer and middle fingers, managing to latch onto your clit while he does. 

When you tumble into bliss, Joel moans into you, egging on your spasms. You lurch forward, dragging your center off his drenched lips. Your legs are limp as you try to crawl up the bed. Joel rolls over, creeping up the bed with you. You lay on your back, propping yourself up onto some of the pillows. 

“Do you need a break?” He asks, his hands feeling up your bare, still kind of shaking, thighs. You shake your head “yes” and breathe out loudly. Your body is covered in a light sheen, the sweat pooling around your hairline. Joel lets you take a moment, making sure you are completely ready for him. 

When you finally meet his eyes, your stomach fills with butterflies. He’s admiring you from his position, his eyes not finding yours until he’s done checking out your bare chest. You giggle, tugging on his wrists. He takes up your advances, positioning himself above you. He’s caging you in with his tanned strong arms, only allowing you to really move your upper body. You tangle your hands through his messy dark peppered curls, which makes him sigh. He secretly loved it when women felt through his hair. 

“Fuck me,” He groans as he reaches down between you, grabbing ahold of his hard member. You watch as he drags it through your heat, gathering all your wetness before teasing your entrance. 

“Joel, please.”

He smirks, pushing in just his tip, “Please what, baby girl? You want me to give you all of it?”

You are already overstimulated after your last orgasm and you are a bit nervous to imagine what all of it is. You nod, though, because the stretch is already so delicious. 

“Please, Joel, please. I need it,” You whine, knowing how desperate you sound. It’s music to Joel’s ears. 

“Shh, baby,” He eases in further, “I told you I’m gonna treat you real good. Gonna treat this pussy, so fuckin’ good.”

When he’s fully sheathed in you, your nails are digging into his shoulders. When he eases back to pull out some to ensure you can take it, you’re a moaning mess. It only eggs him on, feeling how slick you are and how tight you are around him. 

“That’s right baby, take all of me,” He says as he lifts himself off you. You have nothing to grip onto now, except the sheets that line the queen-sized bed. Joel wants to watch himself slip out of you and go back into you with ease. You love the friction, but you know you need more. 

You don’t know how, but it’s like he reads your mind. He starts to increase his pace, holding onto the back of your thighs as he drills into you. The curvature of his dick hits exactly where no man could ever reach. 

“Oh my god, fuck Joel! Fuck!”

Your words only encourage him to go harder and faster.

“Keep screamin’ my name, baby doll.”

The sweat is dripping down his face with how much effort he’s putting into fucking you. You’re floored at how quickly your orgasm builds again, the sounds of him plowing into you alone sends you into overdrive. 

As soon as you start to vibrate under him, Joel takes that as a great time to start thumbing at your clit. You feel every one of your nerve endings burning with such rapture, that you can’t even say anything. You’re just howling, no coherent words even coming out. Your vision goes white.

The scene is something out of the old pornos Joel used to watch. You’re writhing under him, the orgasm practically sending you cross-eyed. You reach up to anchor yourself down and the only thing you can find to grab is Joel’s forearm. 

“Yes, Joel!”

His hips continue to snap into yours as you squeeze his cock with your gyrating hips. He’s fucking you through it, watching your face contort. Your grip on his arm hurts, but he does not care. It’s unbelievably hot to watch the girl he has adored from afar cumming around him. Over and over. 

The scene is enough to have him chasing down his own high. The feeling of your cunt gripping onto him so tight, while his name is chanted from your lips, the cum practically shoots out of him before he has time to grab his shaft and pull out. He does not empty himself in you though, quickly prying himself out of your weeping hole and spilling out the rest onto your stomach. 

“Shit.”

You don’t even realize what happened, not caring about really anything except for how wonderful and high you feel. Joel tumbles onto his side, half of his body resting on yours. His mouth is close to your ear so he whispers it to you, his voice shaky. 

“I came inside you.”

You lick your lips, trying to regain some saliva in your mouth, “I do not care, Joel.”

He does not prefer that answer, but he accepts it for the time being. You could not feel your face at the moment, you did not have time to worry yourself over Joel cumming inside you. It was not the first time someone did that. 

Joel rolls off the bed, his legs feeling wobbly with his first steps. He’s still half hard and stumbling over to the bowl of water he just used to clean off himself. He grabs a clean rag and soaks it in the soapy water. The least he could do was clean up his mess. 

You watch him trudge over to you, the cum still pooled on your stomach and a bit in your belly button. 

Joel places the warm towel on your lower tummy, wiping up his mess. 

“Thanks,” You manage to say, your post-orgasm haze wearing off a bit. Now you’re just cold and exhausted. You shiver as soon as he removes the towel from your buzzing body. He notes it immediately and grabs the blanket that had been kicked to the floor. He lays it over you, making sure your full nude body is covered by the chilly air. 

“I need to go take a leak, I’ll be right back.”

You try to stay awake. But as soon as he gets some clothes on and heads outside to relieve himself, you’re lulled to sleep by the sounds of the rustling woods that surround the cabin. 

-

When you slowly open your eyes, you instantly notice how dry your mouth is. The itchy fabric of the blanket is tickling your bare limbs as you shift. Joel’s not beside you. 

You sit up, glancing around the cabin. His stuff is still here, but he is not. You keep the scratchy blanket wrapped around you as you plant your bare feet on the wooden floor. As soon as you take your first step forward towards the front door, it slowly swings open. 

Joel stands there, fully clothed, cheeks reddened from the cold outdoors. 

“Mornin’,” He says with a sleepy voice, “Got up early to get the horses fed and saddled up.”

All you remember is him going to pee outside last night, right before you fell asleep. “Did you ever come to bed last night?”

“Yeah, only got a couple of hours of sleep. You took up most of the bed.”

You clear your throat, becoming hyper-aware suddenly that you are very naked under the blanket. Joel tries not to notice your natural sensuality when you wake up. Sleepy eyes, swollen lips, slightly tangled hair. Even if last night never happened, he would be completely enamored by you. 

“Oh, okay,” You mutter, trying to act natural about the fact that you slept with Joel fucking Miller last night. “We all set then?”

He shuts the front door, cutting off any more cold from slipping in. You watch him slowly start to invade your space. He feels pulled towards you, the gravity overcoming every sense he has. He needs to be close to you, touching you, feeling you. 

“Yeah, we are all set.”

Chills run down your spine when his cold hand reaches out and grazes your cheek. You flick your eyelashes towards him, not knowing what to say next. He dips down to your height, kissing your lips carefully. He is nervous you will back away from him, but you don’t. You lean forward into him, the weight of your entire body pressing into him. 

He is the first to pull away, but you swear you could be latched onto him forever. His big brown eyes are lasered in on your eager lips, but in the back of his mind, he knows that you two need to get back home soon. He promised Tommy four days, nothing more. And you needed to get home to your Dad. Fuck. Your Dad. His fuckin’ friend. 

“We have to get home,” Is all he says. 

And then he’s gone. It’s like he blipped out of the room. You blink and the door slams and you are alone again. 

-

You stumble out of the cabin with your backpack on, your eyes adjusting to the sunshine between the falling away leaves. Winter creeps in so quickly in Wyoming, you think to yourself. 

Joel is already posted up on his horse, waiting for you to hurry along and join him. You pet Ranger for a moment before you hop up onto his back. He can’t help but realize how perfect you seemed in the sunlight. Your face hasn’t aged with time like his. It makes sense because you’re so much younger than him. You’ve lived a very full and traumatic life, sure, but you still had a lot more energy to live. He couldn’t picture that you’d want to spend the rest of it with an older guy with maybe 20 more years left in him if you’re lucky. 

The thoughts start to eat away at him as you two make your way through the forest. 

You assume he’s just tired from not getting a lot of sleep, so you just keep your lips sealed until you make it to the main trail back home. 

“So, when we get home,” You break the quietness with your open-ended statement. Joel doesn’t know what you’re insinuating, so he just keeps his head forward. “What happens, then?”

He pulls back his horse's reins to position himself looking directly at you. 

“What do you mean?”

You look at him suspiciously, “Do we tell people?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Joel thinks. 

“Tell them what?”

He has to be messing, right? You think. 

But no, he’s deadly serious. 

“About us,” You remark as Ranger trots a bit closer to Joel. He shakes his head and your heart sinks. He can’t do this, not after you two slept together. 

“There is no us,” He grumbles, unable to look you in the eyes anymore, “We can’t do that. You’re too young.”

If you weren’t on a horse, you would’ve already smacked him. “What the hell, Joel? What if you get in my pants and make me feel special and now we are nothing? Because I’m a little bit younger than you?”

“No, it’s not like that-”

“Well, it seems like it is like that,” You bite the inside of your cheeks, holding back every instinct to burst into tears, “Fuckin’ asshole. I should’ve known better.”

-

When the walls of Jackson come into your line of sight, you could cry with excitement. Your hands were shaking, not only from the cold but the nerves. You had been silent the entire ride back. Your only desire was to get home to your Dad and ignore Joel Miller for the rest of your life. 

You can only hope and pray that your father is on the mend. To keep on track and not let panic take over, you’ve tried to put your mind on other things this whole trip. Most of those things you wish you’d forgotten, already. 

The doors open when you two get close. When the crack is big enough to see through, you spot some familiar faces waiting for you. Tommy, Maria, and even your father. He’s standing up straight, wrapped in layers of jackets and blankets. You tap Ranger with your foot, getting him to speed up. When you reach about 30 feet away, you practically fall off him to get your arms around your father. 

A sense of relief floods your body. A tidal wave of happiness and solace. He’s okay. He’s alive. 

When his scent reaches your nose, it triggers your tear ducts. After years of never having to really worry about him, knowing he can handle himself, you have felt this constant state of uneasiness the last week. 

“My baby is back,” He grumbles into your hair, his arms locking around you, “I knew I could trust that Joel.”

You don’t have time to feel guilt over your actions, you’re just so happy he’s upright. You also don’t want to hear his God-forsaken name from your own Dad. When you pull back to inspect his face, you note the tiredness in his eyes. He looks better, but not his normal. You grab each end of the blanket that’s slowly slipping off his shoulders and bundle him tighter. 

“Let’s get you back in the warm, how ‘bout it?”

You glance back at Joel who just nods, knowingly. You remember that you still have your backpack on, so before you stroll away, you shimmy out of it. Tommy watches you carefully as you hand it off to Joel. 

“Get those meds to the infirmary,” You whisper to no one in particular. Joel studies your face, waiting for you to say something else. You do not. As he grabs your pack, you feel like Maria and Tommy are gawking at you two. Like they know something was left unsaid. 

You two move differently around each other. When you shift one direction, Joel follows suit. 

Joel feels like every eye in Jackson is on him. Tommy’s being the most piercing, watching him like a hawk as he grabs his horse and guides him towards the stables. While you stroll away with Maria and your father, Joel and Tommy bring the horses and supplies to the stables. 

As you walk, you listen to Maria explain your father’s steady recovery. She mentions how Ellie has been keeping a careful eye on him. After she heard you and Joel were going to be gone together, she asked Maria if she could help him somehow. Once your dad got well enough to walk, she got him settled in your house. She’d go over there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, just to help. It makes your heart swell when you hear your dad say how kind and generous she was, just like you. 

-

Joel starts to unpack your bags from your horse first when he gets the horses parked. 

“Somethin’ happen out there?” Tommy presses, noticing how odd you and Joel moved in front of him, “With her?”

“No, nothin’,” He lies, placing your bags on a table near Ranger. When he lifted the first duffle bag, he got a whiff of you and it made his stomach sink. “We just had a rough spot in the hospital. Clickers and shit. Nothin’ too crazy-”

“Joel, I know when you’re lyin’ to me,” His eyes are shooting daggers now. Joel was too old to be pestered by his little brother. He groans in annoyance but Tommy does not give up, “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do nothin’, Tommy.”

“Bullshit,” He grumbles, grabbing one of your bags, “Want me to ask her?”

“You won’t get anythin’ out of her. She’s mad at me, okay? She is pissed I won’t…”

He feels humiliated, his stomach twisting into knots. He would never intentionally hurt you. He just put his foot in his mouth when he realized how much your actions would change everything for him. He could not just be someone you slept with. He could not just leave it. 

“You won’t what, Joel?”

He bites his lip, not wanting to say it out loud. 

“I won’t let her ruin her life for me.”

Tommy’s eyebrows furrow, not completely understanding what he’s droning on about. 

“What?”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy!” Joel wasn’t anticipating a shake-down when he got home. You two really didn’t help with those looks splattered across your faces when you rolled into Jackson.

“You slept with her, didn’t you?”

Joel shakes his head, peeling his eyes away from Tommy. Joel knew nothing could get past him, so he is practically surrendering. Tommy knew then. 

“You dumbass,” He whispers, getting closer to Joel, “You slept with her when her daddy is your patrol partner? After I told you to stay away?”

Joel clenches his teeth, “I don’t need this right now. I’m gettin’ these meds to the infirmary and then I’m takin’ her stuff to her.”

“Joel-”

“Just fuckin’ drop it, Tommy. I ain’t doin’ this.”

-

Your Dad has a nice setup, thanks to Ellie. She has transformed the downstairs guest room into a wonderful stay, with tons of pillows and bedside service. When you get inside the house, Ellie is there. She stands in the corner of the living room, timidly, as you guide your dad back to his warm bed. Maria and her wait for you to handle getting him back to his bedroom. Even though his recovery has been a steady incline, he’s very weak and exhausted all the time. It’s his body’s reaction to fighting a rough illness, but he made sure to reassure you that Sidney told him it’ll be a couple of weeks before he’s 100% back to normal. 

You get him back in bed, his eyes already drooping to find slumber again. You manage to get his shoes off and help him under his covers. Once his head hits the pillow, you stand by the bed for a minute to ensure he’s actually sleeping. You slip out of the room, and the sudden rush of comfort of being home takes over your senses. To hear the crackling of the fireplace, and the smell of your homemade candles. While you enjoyed every moment spent with Joel, there’s nothing like home. 

For a second there, you thought you had that same feeling being next to him in bed. But maybe you were wrong. 

You walk out to where Maria and Ellie stand. They are mumbling to each other while you kick off your boots by the door. 

“Hey, Ellie,” You catch her attention, her freckled face down turning with concern. You smile, trying to ease her, “Thank you for all you’ve done here. I am glad he had someone like you looking after him.”

She nods, her lips twitching, “It’s no problem at all. I know how much you two mean to Joel and I just wanted to do what I could.”

Hearing his name sinks your heart, “We owe ya one.”

Because you did. No matter what would eventually transpire between you and Joel, you owe him your father’s life. His idea saved him. With how sick he was, Joel’s quick plan was enough to bring him home. Then for Ellie to spend her days looking after him while you two were gone? You were forever indebted to them. Sadly. 

“Well, we should leave you to get settled. Let us know if you need anything at all,” Maria gestures to Ellie towards the front door. Their footsteps trail around you, heading to your front door. Before Ellie can reach for the handle, there’s a knock. You nod your head, letting her know it’s okay to open it. 

Joel stands there, your bags in his hands. 

You honestly just left your belongings for him to deal with. Joel looks down at Ellie, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. She’s not as impressed, initially. 

“Hey kiddo,” Joel acknowledges, before spotting Maria, “Mrs. Miller.”

“We were just heading out,” Maria says, pushing the door wider so she and Ellie can slip by his large frame, “Give the girl her things and let her settle back into her life, huh?”

Joel was already annoyed at the narrowed eyes and judgemental jabs. It’s like everyone somehow knew he fucked up. 

You two watch Maria and Ellie leave, their breaths forming clouds in the cold sharp air. Jackson’s weather changed overnight, you think, remembering how it was more tolerable before you left. 

“Can I come in?” Joel ponders, still holding your backpack and duffle. 

It was cold and while you wanted to slam the door on him, you know you can’t. You move away from the threshold, gesturing for him to come in. His footfalls are heavy and drawn out. You shut the door, waving him towards the living room so your voices don’t carry down the hallway to your father’s newly set up bedroom. 

He places your bags on the couch before he stretches his shoulders in discomfort. Your stuff was not that heavy, but Joel could not help but try to draw your attention. He glances around your living room, taking in some of the artwork and photos that line the walls. Some are old photos of you and your father, in which you don’t really resemble him at all. 

“Back to how things were, huh?” You remark, bitterly. You wanted to attack him with every mean thing plaguing your mind, but you don’t. You were tired from all the travels but you were also tired of the idea of fighting for someone who does not care to fight for you back. You had done that for years with pointless boys. 

The whole walk to your house, Joel’s thoughts were moving a million miles a minute. He did not want you to live your life resenting him. He cared for you deeply, but he did not want you to miss out on all the wonders of life. Joel could not give you kids. He could not give you 40 more years of happiness. He would be an elderly man before you could even reach menopause. He does not want you to regret things when you’re old and gray. 

“I don’t want that. You know damn well I don’t want that.”

You could scream. But you stay even, not giving in to the temptation to just rip him a new one. 

“I don’t know what you want, Joel. One minute you’re kissin’ me and begging to be with me, the next you’re telling me you can’t be with me because I’m too young.”

“Baby-”

“No! Don’t you dare? You had no intention of making this a thing, yet you played into it and got exactly what you wanted. I’m just another notch for you, ain’t I?”

Your hands are clenched, waiting for his delayed response. You are embarrassed and humiliated that you were delusional enough to let Joel toy with every one of your emotions. 

“You know that ain’t true, girl. I just don’t want you to live your life regretting that I was a part of it, okay? You want to spend your days with an old man who can’t give you everything you want? ’m not good for you.”

He can’t let you make this mistake. 

But you’re not easing up. 

“What do you think I want? Kids? A simple life? A picket fence? Joel those are things I wanted when I was living in a world that didn’t have a brain-eating infection that’d turn people into zombies,” You’re huffing and puffing, trying to understand why he thinks he can tell you what you need and want. 

“I spent years of my life wishing I could get those things, but I gave up a long ass time ago. I don’t want those things nearly as much as I want you. I fuckin’ want you, okay?”

You realize you’re not being quiet and your Dad could probably hear every word falling from your lips. He can hear you desperately plead with Joel Miller to be with you. 

Joel is shocked you’re laying all this out. He can’t believe his ears when you say you want him. A man like him being wanted is quite unbelievable, especially by a woman like you. 

You could hear a pin drop with how silent your house is. You fold your arms, trying not to give into the nausea you feel from spilling your soul to him. 

“I just…” He fidgets with his hands for a minute before those puppy eyes glance up at you, “I don’t want to ruin your life.”

You step closer to him, your face inches away from him. You train your eyes on his mouth, unsure how to respond to such blasphemy. 

“I have spent so many days thinking about what it’d be like to live in a world where the Joel Miller would even glance in my direction. I imagined what it’d be like to kiss him,” You’re whispering now, making sure this revelation is for his ears only, “I imagined what it’d be like to have a man who’d treat me well and look… Exactly like you. I have dreamed of you.”

Joel would have never guessed such a statement fall from your lips. 

You breathe out, relieved it’s finally off your chest.

“I just don’t want to leave ya worse than I found ya,” His softness instantly makes you crumble into his arms. He holds you tight, before pulling away to search your face. You teeter forward on your toes, pressing a firm but attentive kiss to his lips. 

When you draw back, “I’m not givin’ you up, Joel.”

The tension is shattered when you hear your Dad yell your name from down the hallway. You snap out of your trance of staring at Joel’s beautiful lips and dart toward the voice. 

“Yeah?”

You open the door and see him, his eyes wide open and focused on the door. 

“Who you talking to out there? Is that Joel?”

Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of every word you just said, scared half to death that your Dad would get out of bed and beat some sense into you. Joel follows you down the dimly lit hallway, but you don’t even hear him, too rattled by your father’s question. 

“Yes, it’s me,” Joel speaks up, coming forward to meet your Dad’s confused expression, “How you feelin’, man?”

“I’m feelin’ like I’m hearing some odd things from down the hall. You two fighting?” His voice is breaking a bit. 

The silence after he asks the question is deafening. You glance over to Joel whose mouth is slightly ajar, unable to move with an answer. You bite the inside of your cheek, wishing you could disappear into the wall nearby. 

Joel cannot lie to his friend. He certainly would never do it with you right beside him. 

“Yeah, you uh, heard us?” He barely manages. 

“Yeah, I sure as hell heard my daughter beggin’ you to take her on, is that true?”

“Dad-“

“My daughter wants to date a man that’s 10 years younger than her own father? Kind of twisted.” He snaps, shoving the blankets off his legs. “But, I am gonna be honest… I expected this.”

You can hardly breathe with the tension in the air. 

“Sorry?”

Joel’s tone is dry, and he’s unable to fully form a coherent thought. 

Your dad coughs before he starts, “Well, I could tell by the way you looked at her that you had a thing for her, Miller. Didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to entertain it.”

“Dad, he’s not dum-“

“And I thought you’d get over this little schoolgirl crush, but I was mistaken, I guess.”

You were used to your Dad’s sarcasm and upfront jabs. You spent a lifetime throwing them back at him, but this time you had nothing to say. You watch as he settles back from obnoxiously tearing off his blankets. 

You fiddle with your fingers, trying not to show your internal anxiety-riddled monologue. He thought you’d get over your crush. He always noticed how Joel looked at you. How did he look at you? How did you never notice?

Joel is spiraling, reverting to his original conclusions. He knew this was a horrible idea. He should have never stepped over the line. He’s a horrible man. You don’t deserve someone as awful as him. 

He smacks his lips, making you and Joel come back down to Earth and out of your heads. 

“Whatever is happenin’ between you two, I probably will never fully understand it. But you are adults, you do whatever makes you happy,” He says with both hands up in surrender, “I am too old to bother with my daughter’s love life. She’s a big girl, I trust her. But Miller, if you hurt her-“

“I’m a dead man.”

Your father laughs which in turn makes you smile crookedly. 

“Just one thing,” He points to you, “I don't want to hear or see anythin’-”

You nod, cutting him off immediately, “Deal.”

Joel catches your eye when he smiles in your peripheral vision. You look over at him, a grin plastered to your face. 

You can’t believe you’re actually going to do this. 

And Joel can’t believe your father somewhat agreed to let it happen. He was sure he would have a gun in his face before he could even mutter a word. But instead, your Dad is receptive to him being with you, which is all you can ask for. 

“Well, get along now, I wanna get back to sleep. You two were keepin’ me up,” Your dad grumbles, readjusting his frail frame to get comfortable in bed. You just nod, pointing at the door for Joel to exit. You follow suit, closing the door behind you tightly, making sure it clicks. Joel stands in the darkness of the hallway, waiting. He is in disbelief. 

You just take one of his hands and bring it to your lips, softly pressing a kiss into his knuckles. 

“Let’s go get cleaned up and take a nap,” You murmur, walking him to the end of the hallway to the bottom of the stairs. He accepts the offer, trailing behind you like a lost puppy. 

You were not sure where this was all going to end up. Neither of you did. But you could not wait to carve the way with him, bringing every last one of your daydreams to life.

THE END

or is it? I have started writing snippets to go along with this story- if you want more, here's the link:

No One Fucks With My Baby

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+

[3.3k] a tired girlfriend, an eager to please steve. a flip and reverse it fic of this smutty oneshot.

If you’d not already made Steve aware of your bad day on your lunch break via a rushed, staticky phone call, he would’ve definitely caught onto quickly when you arrived home.

The door hit your hip as you battered your way inside the small hall, a curse leaving your lips in a way that was rougher than usual. He heard your bag hit the floor, a cacophony of dull thumps as you toed off your shoes and let them hit the baseboards, uncaring for once about the scuffs they left on the wood.

It would be tomorrow’s problem, and right now, the current one was his to fix.

You’d called to tell him that not only was today going horrifically, but that you’d been forced into working late as well. Mournful, you’d told him to not wait and have dinner without you, that you’d see to yourself whenever you arrived home. And now at almost nine o’clock, you really couldn’t face the idea of eating a large meal before diving face first into your side of the bed. But still, the house smelled appeasing, garlic and tomatoes and something like your favourite candle burning underneath it all coming from the kitchen.

It’s where you found Steve, leaning against the sink as he finished washing his own empty plate, leftover chicken on the stove if you wanted it. He turned at the sound of you, wet hands avoiding touching you but arms open all the same. He hummed something sympathetic when you closed your own around his waist, nose pressed to the middle of his chest as you groaned aloud before breathing him in.

He ducked down, lips on the crown of your head. “Baby.”

It was the sweetest of greetings, soft and full of an aching affection that made your shoulders slump and your eyes prick with hot tears. You let out a whine, a pitiful thing that made you press your face into the man’s chest a little harder and Steve cooed back with the same amount of understanding.

“You’re home now,” he murmured against your forehead, kisses stamped there too. He didn’t mention your bad day, no need now that it was over and he was there to fix it. “Lemme dry my hands and say ‘hi’ properly, huh? You hungry? I can put more garlic bread in the oven if you want some.”

You didn’t respond, not when Steve was drying his hands off on the towel hanging from the oven door and grasping your chin with a finger and thumb. It was so easy to smile with his touch on you, his attention. The corners of your lips lifted as he moved into you, big hand holding your jaw still for him as he kissed you. It was familiar and sweet and over a little too quickly but when he pulled back and saw your closed eyes and pout, Steve grinned and moved back in.

“Want ‘nother?” He whispered, too soft to sound teasing but you knew him well enough. Eyes still closed, you nodded, nose bumping against his own as you pushed up onto your toes and tried to find his lips with yours own. “Poor girl,” he told you, pouting right back. “My girl, my pretty, pretty girl.”

His kisses were more languid now, slower, deeper, easier to get lost in. Steve hummed against you, hands on the small of your back and keeping you tucked in close. His words had the right effect, softening you, making you hold onto him that little bit tighter, your hands fisting the front of t-shirt in a way that had his head spinning.

“Can I get you some food, huh? You wanna eat?” Steve asked, kissing at your cheek, nose pushed to the warm apple of it as you tried to get your bearings. The kitchen was warmer than before. “Go get changed and I can plate up for you.”

You shook your head as you held onto him, working yourself closer as Steve attempted to move to the stove.

“Baby—”

You didn’t say anything as you buried your face into the crook of his neck but you didn’t have to. Steve just leant back against the counter top, taking you with him. He wound his arms around you, holding you against him, warm and solid and the best thing you’d felt all day. It was easy to let out the sigh you’d been holding as he kissed at your cheek, head lolling to the side as he worked his mouth down your jaw and over your neck, kisses open mouthed and warm.

He didn’t have to do too much to make you let out other noises, softer, raspier ones that morphed into small moans and gasps. Teeth grazed over your pulse point as large hands wandered down, fingers cupping at the swell of your ass and you held onto Steve’s shoulders, eyes closed and head tipped to the side so he could do what he wanted to you.

Steve groaned as you fell pliant against him, your body moulding to his more than ever as you tried to work your way closer to his warmth, his hands, the smell of his leftover aftershave that clung to his neck.

“Want me to make you feel good?” He murmured, still kissing at the pieces of your skin that he could reach. Your black dress that you wore to the office seemed suddenly too encasing, the cotton fabric restricting him from all the places he wanted to touch. “Hmm? Want me to make you forget about your shitty day, honey?”

The idea seemed divine, heavenly, actually. Enough to make you sigh all pretty and whine when Steve’s teeth nipped gently at your jawline, your head tipping back and lips parting at his attention. But your body was bone tired, thrumming with the need your boyfriend had lit inside of you with his touch but your limbs ached, muscles already protesting at still being on your feet.

Regretful, you opened your eyes to meet Steve’s, his gaze overwhelming adoring as he gazed down at you, watching the way your body and face responded to each sweep of his fingers over your waist.

“I would love that,” you told him, voice soft and as quiet as his own. The hum of the fridge was the only other sound in the room, the soft glow of the light above the stove making Steve seem peach coloured, highlighted in gold. “But I don’t think I could hold myself up long enough.”

You tried to lighten your tone with a smile, tired as it was. And Steve could’ve responded with something dirty about having you on your back as he had his way with you but instead, he ducked down to kiss you again, soft and at the corner of your mouth.

“What if I look after you, hm?” He asked you, as kind and gentle as his kisses were. Each question was punctuated with another push of his mouth against yours, the rasp of his stubble against your cheek making your toes curl. “You won’t have to do a thing, honey. Jus’ gotta look pretty for me, yeah? Let me make you feel better? You wanna do that?”

It sounded like an offer you couldn’t turn down, enticing and as sweet as the boy in front of you. You knew that if you said no and asked to go to bed instead, Steve would lead you there with a kind hand and tuck you into bed himself - his offer was very much for you and not him. You could see it in the way he was gazing down at you, warm and affectionate as he pushed the baby hairs away from your eyes and dropped a kiss to the tip of your nose.

You’d done the same for him before, making him forget about any worries or stress he had as you handed him a stiff drink and then let him use your mouth, sitting on his laps and letting him play with you as he pleased.

So you nodded, breath exhaling in a shaky gasp and Steve stole one more kiss from you before gently nudging you towards the living room.

Steve met you there, where the lights were dimmed and the curtains were already closed and he sat on the slumped cushions of your well loved sofa and held out a hand. “C’mere, honey.”

He led you forward, fingers caught in his and he coaxed you onto his knee, legs spreading until you were sat on his lap, your dress hitching above your knees. “There y’go,” Steve praised. “You just sit there for me, yeah? Lookin’ too pretty, did I tell you that? Even prettier than last time I saw you, god, what did I tell you ‘bout doing that, huh?”

You couldn’t help your grin as Steve spoke sweetly, all charm and that soft smile that made your tummy flip, the tips of his fingers running down the tops of your bare arms. “Shut up,” you mumbled, embarrassed and pleased and shy all at once.

“What?” Steve grinned right back. “You know what I’m talking about. You just keep gettin’ prettier, babe, s’not good for my health.”

He’d complimented you enough for a kiss, one you greedily gave as you leaned in, hands pressed to his abdomen as you took what he gave you, greedy for the softness of his lips, more of his touch.

Steve hummed, giving you what you wanted before he pushed you back again, just slightly, gaze wandering down to your chest, to the tiny buttons that held the front of your dress together. He tapped the top one, his other hand grazing over your knee. “Can I make you more comfortable?”

You nodded, sensing the shift in the room, in him. It was quiet, the television off, the streets outside quiet in the late hour, no traffic or garden sprinklers to be heard from beyond the window.

Steve smiled as he popped the first button, then the second, then the third. It was enough for the straps of your dress to loosen and slip, dropping from your shoulders to expose more of you, your cleavage becoming visible, that pretty expanse of skin on show for Steve. The man cooed at the sight, fingertips trailing over your chest, dipping between your breasts until you made a soft noise and arched your back for him.

“There you go,” Steve whispered. “Nice?”

“Yeah,” you whispered back. You didn’t want to ask for more already, you wanted to be patient. But Steve was close to smirking. “Babe—”

“I know,” he assured you. “Gimme a sec, honey.” His hand trailed back to the buttons, the last three popping open under his nimble touch and the lacy cups of your bra appeared. The dress fell apart, dropping from your upper body and Steve blew out a breath. “Oh, you’re just the prettiest.”

You grew warm under Steve’s stare, his own cheeks turning pink as he took his time looking over you. You kept your chin high as he ran one finger down the middle of your chest, dipping into the space between your breasts, that soft spot of skin that made goosebumps erupt. “Can I see more? Gonna let me play w’you?”

You could only nod.

So Steve took that same single digit and hooked it into the first bra cup, pulling down, and then the same to the other side. It felt filthy being exposed like that, the band of your bra still around your ribs, the cups pulled down to free your tits, nipples peaking immediately on contact with the cooler air.

Steve groaned, lips parting at the sight before him and he shifted under you, the tent in his sweatpants growing. But he didn’t try much more than reaching out to graze the pad of one finger over a nipple. You gasped, body jerking slightly at the new touch, skin sensitive. And Steve mumbled something soothing, flicking his finger over your nipple until it stiffened entirely, hard and begging for more attention.

He pinched it, the skin darkening further, your mouth opening in a silent plea and he got a little mean, just the way you liked him to be. Steve pulled, letting go to watch your breast bounce back and he grinned before giving the other side the same attention. He cupped you, too big hands gathering your tits in his palms as he pressed them together and lay kisses across your chest, soft and sweet until his lips parted and he could sweep the flat of his tongue over a nipple.

You whined, back arching further, pushing yourself against his mouth, hands finding the back of his head so you could hold onto his hair. It made him grunt, teeth grazing ever, ever so gently over you. A soft bite, more tongue than teeth before he sucked at you, his nose pressed into your soft skin with intent.

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, fingers squeezing, palms moulded to you. “Baby, you’ve got the prettiest tits. Pretty all over, huh?” He pulled at your nipples again, a little harsh, eyes glazed over as he let go and watched them harden even further. “That good?”

You squirmed in answer, trying to find some friction against his leg but Steve kept his own knees spread, the junction between your thighs hovering over empty space and keeping you open for him.

“C’mon, tell me,” Steve reminded you, squeezing a warm, rough hand over your breast again. His thumb flicked your nipple, his smile too sweet. “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah,” you told him, brows scrunched and lips pouted. Your breath was coming heavier than before, chest heaving, tits arching forward for more of Steve’s mean touch. “Yeah, s’really good.”

The breathiness of your voice made the man groan, eyes half lidded as he settled back into the sofa and watched you grab at the hem of his shirt, grounding yourself. “Good girl,” he told you, voice quiet like before but a little raspier. “Let’s get this out the way, yeah?” He tugged at the bottom of your dress, lifting the hem until it dragged over the tops of your thighs.

You were burning now, tits on display, dress hanging off you, bra tangled around your ribs and your underwear on show. Steve grinned as he spread his knees a little wider still, opening yours further in return. He had you positioned on his lap, thighs open, the damp spot on your cotton underwear very much seen. Steve pressed his thumb there, over your entrance, pushing softly until he heard you moan his name.

“Fuck, baby,” Steve cursed, “already got yourself all worked up, haven’t you?”

You nodded, hips bucking against nothing and the thought of having to stand up to take your underwear off seemed too much of a task. “Steve, babe— Steve, please.”

The man tutted at you, cheeks reddening at your begging, his cock hard under his sweats, pressing against the cotton and twitching for release. But Steve wasn’t doing this to tease and he wasn’t doing this for himself. So he hushed you with soft hands and soft sounds before he gave a harsh tug to the elastic sides of your underwear and ripped the seam.

If you hadn’t been desperate before, that did it.

You squeaked, clinging to Steve’s hips as he pushed the now torn cotton out of the way, your spread cunt fully on show for him. He wasn’t subtle in his staring, his jaw unhinged as he murmured sweet, dirty words to you, his hands soothing up the insides of your thighs, kneading the doughy skin there.

“Fuck, look at you,” he groaned, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. “Pretty girl with a pretty pussy, huh?” His hands met at the juncture of your thighs, thumbs framing your folds so he could pull apart your lips, spreading you for his own viewing pleasure. “So wet, baby. You wanna come for me? Can I make you come nice and hard, yeah?”

You were gone, nodding with a head that felt too heavy, your nails digging into the tops of Steve’s arms to keep yourself balanced and you might have been whispering, begging over and over again, breathless and tits heaving as you tried to suck in enough air to keep yourself upright.

Steve didn’t need to work you up anymore, using one thumb to push at your clit, a soft press that had you immediately keening. You’d been with Steve long enough to have told him - and shown him - exactly how you liked to be touch. And despite his academic downfalls, he was a quick study in the bedroom. He didn’t falter in his pace nor his pressure, keeping a steady, slow circle over your clit as he watched your face.

He smiled when he saw your features go slack, a lazy, warm softness take over your expression, lips parting, eyes unfocused.

“That’s it, honey,” he praised. “You sit there and look pretty for me. Hmm? Yeah, like that, keep those legs open and lemme watch you come, wanna see that pretty, little pussy soak my hand.” Steve let out a rough sigh when you whined, one of your hands leaving his bicep to cup at his jaw and he turned his head to press a kiss to your palm, to nip at your thumb. “Pretty girl, pretty baby.”

He didn’t slip any fingers inside of you and you didn’t ask. In fact, Steve merely let his thumb run down between your folds and gather the wetness there. He hummed when you gasped, grinned when you moaned and then took his thumb back to your swollen button as his free hand cupped your tit. He squeezed and plucked at your nipple as his thumb circled, pulling and pushing you closer to an orgasm, all while your cunt clenched around nothing.

“Close, honey?” Steve asked as you swore, hips canting forward, your brows scrunching prettily as you neared the edge. You gasped your confirmation, falling forward into your boyfriend, foreheads touching, noses bumping and you breathed in the air that Steve exhaled out. “Yeah, you are, can see it on your face, baby, you wanna come real bad, don’t you?”

Steve kept his pace the same, circles messy over your wet and swollen clit, his words dirtier than ever, his breath coming out in heavy gasps as he tried to coax you into letting go as you tried to kiss him. Your lips found his jaw, his chin, the corner of his mouth as you groaned and whined and gasped his name, Steve’s eyes fluttering shut as you tried to clamber closer to him but he kept you seated with a sharp tug on your nipple.

“Nuhuh, baby, sit still. Be good, m’gonna get you there,” he promised, muscles in his forearm flexing as he worked you that little harder. “Come for me, yeah? Come nice ‘n hard, pretty girl and I’ll let you have my fingers. You can come ‘round my fingers, yeah? Wanna feel you get nice n’ tight for me— oh, fuck, that’s it—”

It was easy to tell when you’d fallen over the edge, your jaw unhinged as you pressed forward into Steve’s chest, biting at the meat of his shoulder to smother your long, gasping moan. His name came out in several syllables, your hands finding his hair again as you tugged, your mouth finding his just as Steve swore, two fingers slipping into your aching cunt easily, your walls pulsing around them in a way that had his dick throbbing in the same pattern.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Steve grunted, hooking the pads of his digits into you and keeping them there, stuffing you full in a way he hadn’t given you before you’d come. “Such a good girl, feel better, yeah?”

Glassy eyed, you could only nod, nosing at the side of his neck, hands threading through the ends of his hair as if you’d float away if you let go.

Maybe you would.

Heavy limbed and more bone tired than before, you curled into Steve’s chest, sighing warmly when his arms welcomed you closer. He smelled like cologne and home and sex, and before your eyes closed completely, you managed to whisper into his jawline:

“M’gonna return the favour,” you promised. “Tomorrow. M’gonna return it tomorrow.”

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

thinkin about polite gaz being... not so polite when he realizes you're attracted to him. 

not like you let it slip on purpose. he only catches on because he's teasing you and flirting with you and he gets playfully physical and pins you against a wall. he does not miss the way your breath catches in your throat or the way you flush. bit submissive, aren't you?

his attitude changes instantly. he bets you he could keep you pinned right there. hell, he bets he could pick you up, toss you over his shoulder if he wanted to. when you ask him (a bit too breathlessly) if he'd really do that, he smirks at you and says there are plenty of reasons he might have to pick you up. makes it easier to show you who's boss, yeah?

your face gets so hot you think you might actually pass out. you fucking bottom.

he leans in, getting closer this time so you can't shy away; you have no choice but to hear him clearly. "you think you could handle being thrown around?"

if it killed you, you would die happy.

"how about i just throw you into bed instead?"

please, you squeak out.

his eyes gleam and he chuckles. "say please again and it'll be the floor."

nsfw ↓

he's not kidding about being able to pick you up either. or throw you. the moment he has a chance, he's definitely getting you into bed. and he's definitely enjoying how you squirm.

can i ask a favor of you? he asks, so politely, like he's not literally on top of you, pinning you down.

literally anything. you would do literally anything he asks.

"say please again. for me."

you stutter.

"you asked quite nicely for me to throw you. so if i ask, would you beg nicely for me to do other things?"

oh god. oh god. you're glad you're laying down, because you're sure your knees would give out if you were standing up.

when your brain reboots, you stumble over yourself to say yes, absolutely, please kiss me, please tear my clothes off, please hold me down and have your way with me--

god, he really likes that look on your face. he is really going to enjoy you. 

"you really are an excitable little thing, aren't you?" he says, smirk widening as his hand traces along your hip.

is that bad? you ask him.

"it's really hot. almost makes me feel bad for everything i want to do to you."

no, please, don't feel bad, you tell him. you immediately shift, trying to press yourself up against his body. you want him to use you for everything he wants. everything.

"so eager. can't wait, can you?"

no, you can't. you'll die if you have to wait. you try and fail to reign yourself in and be so fucking needy. you fumble with the buttons on your shirt, undoing them one by one, impatient and frustrated. he just smirks at you, letting you get yourself all worked up. just leans back and watches you, enjoying the sight.

when your mind catches up with what your hands are doing, you stall out on the last button. then, finally, he gives in and reaches forward to unhook it himself. then he yanks the whole shirt out of the way.

"good girl. god, you're cute when you're so red like that. you're really into this, aren't you?" his voice is sultry as his caress moves down to the button on your jeans. really just takes his damn time, enjoying how the slower he goes, the more desperate for him you get. but the way your hips twitch when he lays his hands on them has him fighting demons.

"that's it. keep moving. keep squirming." his voice is low and slow--he's trying to keep himself under control as much as you are. he wants so badly to grab your hips and just fucking rail you into the mattress, but it's more rewarding to be patient. how's he going to hear more of those sounds, see more of your desperate ploys to get under him, if it's all over right away?

obviously you have no such reservation. the moment he has your jeans unbuttoned, you're wiggling out of them and flipping onto your stomach, pushing your ass up in the air and fucking presenting yourself to him. please, you beg him, losing your goddamn mind, you can't take it anymore. can't he just...?

gaz damn near short-circuits at the image of you with your ass in the air. he barely manages to stop himself and weigh whether he should deny you a little bit more to heighten the anticipation.

fuck it. he can torment you more after he's inside you. multitasking.

you squeak in delight when he plants his hands between your shoulder blades and pushes your top half into the mattress, dragging your hips up toward his. he pushes you down, fitting his body over yours and putting his mouth next to your ear. he whispers right in your ear. "say please again."

please, please, please, you'll do anything, you tell him, wiggling your hips at him.

and he plans to take you up on that offer.

he leans in close, his breath warm on your skin. "good girl, he tells you. obedient girl."

you've never wanted to be under someone so badly.

your easy submission has him grinning. "are you a good girl all the time or just for me?"

for you, you mumble, hot with shame.

he pulls himself back even more and puts a knee on each side of you, pushing your legs apart. it gives you a shot of dopamine so intense you almost can't keep your ass up. 

"are you being good right now?"

you could be better for him, you tell him, so much better.

he likes the sound of that. it's getting hard to think, having your legs open and right there and he's trying to hold himself back but who wouldn't fall for the temptation he's experiencing right now? "how much better?"

you tell him you could please him more if you knew what he liked, if you could focus on him, if you didn't need more right now, if you didn't need him inside you so bad. your hips twitch again as you ramble, almost mindless.

"i like it when you speak so earnestly," he tells you.

that approval sends another shot of dopamine through you, and your hips buck against nothing. he hasn't even touched you there and you feel like you could finish any moment just from his voice. you're gonna die if you can't have him right now.

he's breathing heavier now, eyes fixed on your opening. his voice almost wavers, heavy with implication. "how bad do you need me, darling?" 

you start to dissolve into begging again--god dammit, he said he wanted you to beg and he's not even doing what you want, what you're begging for--and he interrupts. "you're going to ask properly first."

of course he's gonna make you fucking say it.

you beg and plead in every way you know how, promising every debased act you can think of. when his fingers finally press up against your heat--a teasingly light brush at first, and then a firm press--you dissolve into a mess of broken cries and pleas for him to keep going.

obviously he keeps talking to you in that low, sultry voice, telling you what an impatient little thing you are. chastising you. just another way to flex a little more power over you, and you're so weak for it. and then for that, he praises you.

"such a good girl," he tells you. "you want more?"

you open your mouth to say yes, you want everything, but then he presses his fingers in just the slightest bit, fingertips splitting you the slightest bit, and all you can do is keen. you rock your hips back into him desperately, sliding his fingers into you, and something in you snaps. you tip over the edge. oxytocin floods through you, your legs lock up, and shameless sounds fall from your lips. gaz's breath catches as you finish. then he grins.

gaz pulls you up to him fully and lies down above you. kisses you on the mouth and then trails his mouth down your jaw to your ear. "that was perfect," he says, breathless, and unashamedly horny about the fact that you just came on the second knuckles of two fingers.

you stare at him in muted shock yourself. you can't believe you just... you really just came like that? what's wrong with you?

"how about this," he says in a low, smooth voice. "since you were good, why don't you lay back down and let me fuck you properly?" he lifts your legs off the bed and raises your hips toward him. "let me do everything i want to you."

you swallow and nod, not trusting yourself to speak without squeaking.

"good girl." this time there's no hint of teasing. his eyes are hungry. "let your man take care of you."

...

[part 1] / part 2

more Gaz / masterlist tag

[kaivenom]

Hi! Can I request telling the One Piece Dilfs to make you pregnant? :d

Asking the One Piece Dilfs to make you pregnant HCS

Characters: Doflamingo, Mihawk, Crocodile, Smoker, Shanks

A/N: OMG this week people are going crazy with requests for these amazing men. I hope you like it

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

He got really turned on.

He put his weight on you, his chest on your back and his thrusts starting to become painfully slower.

His hot breath now on your neck, bitting and kissing.

"So you want my seed? you want to bear my lineage," you nodded, suddently embarrased of your words, "i would like to do that with you, filling you up and seeing your round belly."

He continued with that filthy speech impulsed by his recently discovered breeding kink.

Every thrust being more powerful and intoxicating than the last one, until he came inside you, a lot.

He rolled over and put you onto his chest.

"I don't know how good i will be with children but since i had Zoro and Perona around here two years, i think i have a little experience. Prepare yourself, this night you will end up pregnant."

You were so flustered and turned on that you couldn't answer, but you know tomorrow you won't be able to walk.

Donquixote Doflamingo

The perfect excuse to be more rough with you.

He simply didn't really care about the thing of making you pregnant, he was just turned on about being able to cum inside you over and over.

That night was really exhausting for you.

"Ohh, my little slut wants to be a mother? then you should be able to take it, if you can't take my dick how would you take my child?"

When he finally stoped getting his multiple times with you, you passed out of exhaustion.

You didn't notice how he got up and went to the window with a bottle of alcochol.

"Stupid woman, how would you want my child... i can't deny anything to you, even that. It would be bad like me or good like Corazon." he spent the rest of the night thinking about every posible future for the child and for you two, "at least i can try to be funny and get them whatever they could think of... better leave the education to her."

Sr. Crocodile

"You have everything you want from me, my money my house, my love and know my child? you are a very vicious one, my woman."

His thrusts were deep and rythmical, with all the conversation he didn't stopped or changed his way with you.

"How would think of people if they saw you have my child? I am a criminal, a very wanted one, i am dangerous. How could someone like you think it's a good idea to have a family with me? How could you think i want you to have it with me?"

That last phrase was really cruel and you made him stop, flipping yourself and force him to look at you in the face, to see how angry you are.

"I am dating you, idiot, i love you stupid Crocodile... it is that strange that after a couple of years of dating i want a family?" you wanted to slap him but he stopped you with a strange face.

"It's not strange, in fact i thought about that too but think, i am a wanted man with a really dangerous environment, do you really want to expose yourself like that? and a child?"

"I am already exposed, there is no going back, just continue and take the next step. We know how to take care of ourselves, right?"

"Yes, youre right... and sorry for talking rude to you."

Smoker

It awaken something on him.

It was in the middle of the act and you say it in the heat of the moment but that froze him.

Suddently you are turn over and you are facing him again, his eyes full of insecurity and awkardness.

"Do you really want it?" you blinked a couple of times, all the hornyness going away, this is serious "I have a stable job, we've been together for a long time and well... maybe it's not so bad the idea of being parents."

Yo nodded with a sincere smile while stroking his cheek slightly.

"I would love to be a parent with you."

Then he started again with his thrusts, this time more tender and full of love.

Akagami Shanks

You were riding him and he put his hands on your thights, stopping you from moving.

"I don't oppose to the idea of filling you up until you can´t take it anymore but do you really think we are capable of raising a child on a pirate ship?" his face was halfway into laughing but you know he is being dead serious.

"I think yes, you were raised on a pirate ship and you ended up well."

He couldn't deny that, you were absolutely right.

"If we think of doing this, you won't get out of the ship while pregnant or you will be accompained everywhere and when you give birth you will take care of the child while i..."

You pinched his cheek frustated.

"This would be OUR child, i get it will i am pregnant but after that we take turns, i won't be in lock down like the child is a virus."

You didn't stopped pinching his cheek until he agreeded with you.

"I love you and we will take care of she."

"She? You already put a gender?"

"Then i will have my queen and a princess... if we have two? a prince and a princess?"

"Step by step."

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!yoongi (7) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist

note: yoongi and oc have the what r we talk,, have a few awh moments,, and r jus so cute... anyways,, my apologies as i'll be fixing my taglist next week ,, too busy n just trying to push out content lol !!! also PLEASE BE SURE TO LEAVE UR @ IN THE COMMENT BOX FOR SPECIFIC FIC TAGLIST STUFF (in the taglist form)

EDIT: mochi < injeolmi

//

as yoongi stands outside your door with a plastic bag swinging in one hand—all he can really think about is how amused he is from the 2AM craving text.

he takes a breath, raises his hand to knock, but the door opens before he can and there you stand with puffy cheeks streaked with the telltale signs of crying. 

his smile drops instantly.

“hey,” yoongi’s voice softens, concern etching into his features. “___, what happened? w-why are you crying?”

you try to muster a smile but fail. your lips tremble as you glance at the bag in his hand. letting out a shaky laugh, you wipe your face and take a deep breath in. 

“i don’t even really want pickles and peanut butter,” you admit. “i just… it’s… this isn’t about a pregnancy craving, yoongi.” 

yoongi’s brows knit together and he steps forward. closing the space between you two, suddenly you feel a rush of guilt. 

“okay, then what is it about?” his voice is gentle. he places the bag on the floor so he can rest a hand on your arm, grounding and reassuring. "everything okay? you okay?"

you looks up at him, eyes glassy and full of a vulnerability. 

“i just…” you take another breath, steadying yourself. “i didn’t know how to tell you i wanted you here. just you. no excuses, no weird cravings.”

yoongi’s eyes widen, confusion and something else flashing across his face.

“wait—you could’ve just asked me to come over. i would’ve dropped everything to be here. you know that, right?”

a tear slips down your cheek. shaking your head, a sad smile forms. 

“yeah. we’re friends, yoongi, but we’re not friends.” you say, emphasizing the word. a pang of bitterness lingers. “we’re not close like that. i guess i’m just freaking out because as much as i want this—fuck, i want this so bad… i’m upset that i’m having a baby with someone i can’t even ask to come over without making up an excuse. does that make sense?”

yoongi’s heart clenches. 

he’s struck speechless for a moment. then he sighs and runs his hand through his hair. 

“i get it,” he says quietly. his hand still rests on your arm. he squeezes it lightly. “can i come in? let’s talk about this please.”

you nod and move aside for him. 

yoongi steps into your apartment, closing the door softly behind him.

he heads to the kitchen, methodically placing the jars of pickles and peanut butter on the counter. his movements are slower than usual as the weight of the moment settles in. 

when he turns, he watches you retreat toward your bedroom and for a second—confusion prickles at the back of his mind. 

why aren’t we sitting in the living room? he wonders. 

he’s never been inside your bedroom before. 

… but he follows you anyway, trailing behind you like a shadow.

the room feels more intimate than he expected.

the walls holding a quiet familiarity, but also the tension of something unspoken. you two stand there for a beat, the silence stretching until you blurt out;

“s-sorry. uh, the couch makes my back hurt if i sit there too long. i’m more comfortable in here. is that okay?” 

yoongi takes in your words, a small pang of concern for her comfort, and nods, his usual nonchalance cracking just a bit. 

then, you both settle on the bed.

the awkwardness between you two is palpable. yoongi braces himself for the conversation they both know is coming, hoping the closeness will bridge the distance they’ve been struggling to cross.

“are you regretting this?” you ask, voice quiet and afraid. 

yoongi shakes his head instantly. 

“no. i’m not,” he answers. “are you?”

you also shake your head. 

“no… but, i do wish i thought it through more.” 

he titls his head. “specifically about what? about me?”

you bite bottom lip, trying to find the words to explain how you feel about him. how you feel about everything between you two…

and it’s hard.

it’s difficult because you never had to think twice about yoongi and your friendship.

friends. 

until sometimes, when you two are alone.. it’s friends. 

“let’s be honest,” yoongi begins, cutting your thoughts short. “we’ve always had this weird… in-between thing. but if you need me, you don’t have to make excuses. i’m already here, aren't i? and i’m committed to the baby—our baby. to you, even… so, tell me where your headspace is at. i’ll match it. i’ll place myself in between where you need me and where i want to be for you. you just have to tell me what you want, ___.”

you look at him, eyes searching his for something… then, yoongi continues, his voice sincere and steady.

“we’re about to have a child together, yeah, but more than that… i care about you. always have. so, please don’t think that you have to put up walls or hide what you need from me, okay? i want to see through it. i want to see through you.”

you take a breath, relief washing over her as you nod. 

“okay.” 

and in that small word, a bridge starts to form between them—something real and raw and hopeful.

you and yoongi have never been close. 

there has never been a moment where you were in trouble and thought to yourself; shit i need yoongi’s help.

no. 

there was always hyemi, nam joon, jin, hoseok, jimin, taehyung and jungkook before yoongi. not that you liked him the least—if anything; considering the current happenings—maybe you like him the most. but besides that, you two are truly just decent friends. 

everyone in the friendgroup is. 

you laugh at the same jokes, make fun of nam joon when he says something ridiculous, and have each other’s backs when needed—but that’s it. 

or at least it should be.

again, until you’re alone together... then, it’s different. 

there’s this undercurrent.

something unspoken that takes all makes it hard to breathe. it’s the way he leans in when he’s talking to you. it’s the subtle touches he probably doesn’t think about… all these vague flirting moments leave you second-guessing… but you know what is it. you know who he is. 

and that’s what’s confusing. 

in the midst of this in-between—you don’t know how to word what he makes you feel. 

safe?

nervous?

loved?

and now with the baby; it should be more complicated. everything in your life feels more complicated but somehow; what you are—or what you aren’t—hasn’t changed at all. 

you’re still friends.

friends. 

“can we talk about this?” you speak out. “like first… what are we?”

yoongi’s eyes widen. 

he wasn’t ready for this question, but he also doesn’t hate it. he’s been wanting to know too. he’s been thinking about it too. 

“what do you want us to be?” 

you gulp, not knowing if he’ll like the answer you’re about to give. 

“friends,” you tell him. “is that ridiculous?”

yoongi shrugs. “only if you make it to be.”

“it’s just… i feel like i need to get to know you more. i didn’t even save your number in my phone until last year. we’ve been friends for over 3 years, yoongi… also, i don’t know your favourite colour. i don’t know your birthdate because i always confuse it with hobi’s… yours is in february, right?”

“march.”

you throw your head back, letting out a sharp and loud hiss. 

“fuck—s-see what i mean?” you take a breath and regulate. then, you reach for his hand and squeeze it. “i’m sorry. we’ve been decent friends but truth be told sometimes i feel like a stranger to you. i didn’t think this through—”

“it’s fine,” yoongi says, patting your back. “we’re not complete strangers. you know things about me, ___. don’t act like you don’t just because you’re scared. and, you know what? we can get to know each other more as the pregnancy goes on. besides, once the baby comes out—you’re stuck with me for life. i mean, it’s our baby.”

your lips curve into a small smile. 

“is our baby gonna have two cribs?” you blurt. “hyemi made a passing comment and for some reason i keep picturing it. two cribs.. two sets of clothes.. two homes.. two car seats—”

“one then,” yoongi simplifies it for you. “move in with me or i move in with you.”

you blink at him. 

“...hear me out,” yoongi says, voice calm but his eyes serious, holding yours as if he’s trying to make sure every word sticks. “we already spend so much time together—in our friendgroup setting at least… and i know it won’t be perfect. we’ll annoy each other, i’m sure, but it’ll be easier. for both of us. we won’t have to juggle back and forth or worry about where the baby should be or whose place has what.”

you swallow. 

the image of two cribs still lingering in your mind, mixing with the new picture he’s painting—one home, one set of everything, a shared life that feels both thrilling and terrifying. 

“yoongi…” you start, your voice wavering. “it’s not just about convenience. moving in together means… a lot. and what if we make things harder? what if it complicates everything more than it should?”

he nods, understanding the hesitation even as he inches a little closer, his presence grounding you. 

“i get that,” he says. “but we’ve already made things complicated, haven’t we?” his lips curve into a small, almost hopeful smile. “this way, at least, we’ll be complicated together. and if it doesn’t work, we’ll figure it out, for the baby’s sake. we owe it to them—and to ourselves—to at least try.”

you want to say yes.

to fall into this idea of a shared space, of yoongi always being just a few steps away, but the weight of uncertainty keeps you frozen. 

“i don’t know,” you murmur, dropping your gaze to your hands. “it’s a big step… and i’m scared of what it could mean… for us.”

yoongi reaches over, his fingers brushing lightly against yours. 

“i’m scared too,” he admits softly. “but i’d rather try and fail than not try at all. just… think about it, okay? no pressure. maybe a timer though. baby is coming soon.”

you finally look up, meeting his eyes, the sincerity there chipping away at your worries. a small, reluctant smile tugs at your lips. 

“hahaha… okay. yeah, i’ll think about it,” you promise, and the room feels a little lighter, hope lingering between you both. "... what if we buy baby things and leave it at yours? i think... i do want to move in with you. i think your points make sense and honestly? i've been thinking about us a lot... let's just do it slowly, okay?"

yoongi leans back slightly, studying your expression before he continues. 

“okay, if we’re doing this, I want to do it right,” he says, the seriousness of his tone making you focus. “since we're confessing.. truth be told, i’ve been struggling with this entire thing too. ___, i don’t want to be the dad who just shows up when it’s convenient or only takes half the responsibility. until we figure out the whole moving-in thing… i need you to keep me in the loop. not even the loop—in it. everything, okay? every appointment, every little thing the doctor says. even if it’s something silly, like craving pickles at 2 in the morning, call me. i want to be here. i meant it when i said i need you to figure out how to need me.” 

you nod slowly, his words settling into your chest. the way he’s looking at you—it’s like he’s already preparing himself for every moment he might miss if you don’t.

“and i'm serious about appointments,” yoongi adds, his voice softening just a little, the corners of his lips turning up in a small smile. “i want to know every detail. hear the heartbeat, see the ultrasounds, even if it means i have to reschedule work. screw it, honestly. you and baby are my priority… i’m gonna do everything to make you know that you deserve to feel like we’re doing this together.”

a lump forms in your throat, and you swallow, feeling the weight of his commitment. 

“you really mean that,” you say quietly, more to yourself than him. “yoongi…”

“of course, i do.” he pauses, his eyes holding yours with that steady, unwavering calm. “we might not be close, but this baby deserves two parents who are trying their best. and maybe…” he hesitates, his voice dropping lower. “maybe this will help us become more than just friends who share stolen glances. more than whatever weird, in-between thing we have.”

a beat.

“shit, do we have to talk about that now?”

he laughs. 

“no,” he shrugs. “i’m not in a rush. i’m cool with taking things slow. i have a lifetime with you anyway. also have a feeling you'll be moved in with me in a week or two.”

you roll your eyes and he chuckles.

then, you’re silent for a moment, processing the vulnerability he’s showing, the way he’s extending himself for both you and the baby. 

“okay,” you finally say. “i’ll call more. i’ll update you on everything. breakfast and prenatals and all.”

yoongi snickers at you. “... and when we’re finally living together… we’ll figure out a routine that works for both of us. we’ll make it as easy as possible… for all three of us.”

before you know it, you launch yourself at him.

you wrap your arms around his neck and he wraps his around your torso, returning the hug without hesitations. for a moment, it feels safe, like he’s anchoring you to something solid amidst all the uncertainty.

when you pull away, you glance up at him, nerves tightening in your chest. 

“can you… stay the night?” you ask, your voice softer than you mean it to be. “i guess that’s what i meant with the pickles and peanut butter.”

yoongi snorts at you. 

“i knew it.”

he earns a hit to his chest, but he takes it like a champ. even though he’s teasing you, there’s something so reassuring in the way he says it. 

“i'm already in my pajamas... i’ll just use the bathroom real quick. be right back.”

as yoongi makes his way to the bathroom, he flicks on the light and notices the little details of your life scattered around the sink. toothpaste, skincare products, and…

a blue toothbrush placed neatly next to yours. 

his heart stumbles at the sight, realization washing over him. 

it’s for him. 

you had thought about him even in the smallest of ways, planning for him to be here.

what the fuck is his heart supposed to do with this?

it tugs.

it skips a beat.

it races.

it falls for you a little more.

when he returns to your bedroom, he finds you already lying in bed, looking smaller and more vulnerable under the soft glow of the bedside lamp. he hesitates, unsure of how to fit into this space with you. the silence stretches awkwardly between you both as he slips under the covers.

neither of you knows quite how to lie together. 

you both fidget, trying not to make it more awkward, until you shift uncomfortably, a small wince escaping your lips. 

“ugh,” you mumble, “my back hurts.”

yoongi is at your side instantly. his nonchalant demeanor slipping away as he sits up. 

“here, let me help,” he murmurs, carefully guiding you to reposition. his hands are gentle but firm as he encourages you to lie partially against him, your body leaning into his. he wraps his arms around your belly, cradling you and the baby, and nuzzles his face into the curve of your neck. the warmth of his breath sends a small shiver down your spine, but it melts away as you sink into his embrace.

you both stay still, letting the comfort settle in. slowly, the awkwardness ebbs, replaced by a sense of calm as you relax against him.

just as you’re on the edge of sleep, you murmur something faintly. 

“yoongi?”

“mhmm?

“injeolmi...” you whisper.

yoongi stirs, confused. 

“huh?” he whispers back, trying not to disturb you too much. “are you craving injeolmi? i’ll get you some tomorrow–”

you smile sleepily, eyes already closed. 

“no.. our baby looks like injeolmi,” you explain, your words trailing off into drowsiness. “the ultrasound… injeolmi. let’s call our baby injeolmi for now.”

yoongi heart squeezes at the endearing name, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

“injeolmi,” he repeats, pressing a soft kiss into your hair. “okay. baby injeolmi it is.”

wrapped in each other’s warmth, you both drift off, with yoongi holding you close. all he thinks about before falling asleep is;

baby injeolmi, you are so loved.

[fastandcarlos]

The Perfect Wake Up : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: reunited at last, the two of you savour the feeling of finally being back with each other again

A hum of confusion came from Max as he stirred, turning onto his left side to be greeted by emptiness. He was soon met by the sound of footsteps sliding across the floor just outside the room, hearing you humming to yourself as you moved around in your own little world, forgetting about Max still tucked up asleep. 

A smile formed on Max’s face as he reminded himself of the night the two of you had just shared. After a couple of weeks away with work, Max couldn’t wait to be reunited with you again, savouring all of those little things that he had missed whilst he was away. 

Despite the fact you were only on the other side of the door, Max couldn’t help but feel slightly dejected that you weren’t right there with him as he woke, cuddling up to him and greeting him good morning in a soft whisper. 

It almost made Max laugh how different the two of you were in the mornings. 

Whilst Max loved to spend as much time tucked up in bed as possible, you were much more of an early riser. Almost as soon as your eyes opened you wanted to be up on your feet and making the most of the day. 

You took your time with things, admiring the view of the sunrise or the sound of Max’s light snores echoing down the corridor. The idea that you were the only person awake in the world was quite appealing, living in your own little bubble as you slowly got yourself ready for the day every morning.  

Perhaps it was his busy life, when he was at home, Max loved taking things at a much slower pace. 

At the start of your relationship, he stubbornly argued with you that bed was the best place for the two of you, but soon he learnt that that was never going to be the case for you. Being an early riser was just who you were, and Max had slowly got to grips with that. 

After waking himself up, Max began to stir, slowly rising to his feet. He lazily walked out of the bedroom and down the corridor of your apartment, finding you in the kitchen, twirling around the island as you turned the coffee machine on. 

“Morning love,” Max whispered as he scuffed his feet along the floor, heading in your direction. Your smile was wide as you noticed the figure in the doorway, closing the distance between the two of you. 

“I didn’t think you’d be up for a while.” 

Max’s arms snaked around your waist as yours moved around his neck. He could only admire how fresh you looked, dreading to think how bad he looked with his messy bed hair and tired eyes staring down at you. 

“I was missing you,” Max shyly admitted, looking down to the ground. 

You could only smile as Max fumbled nervously, unable to meet your eyes all of a sudden. It was one of your favourite things to see, how coy he could be in the mornings as he woke himself up, finding himself at his soppiest whenever he woke up, relieved to see that you were still there with him and it wasn’t all a dream. 

He could feel your eyes on him too, noticing how much of a thrill it was for you whenever you made Max weak before you. 

No one else saw him like this, especially when he trudged around just in his underwear, leaving his toned body on show for no one else but you. 

“Maybe the smell of coffee caught my attention a bit too.” 

Your eyes jokingly rolled at Max’s confession, slipping out of his hold. You reached up into the cupboard and pulled out another mug, knowing exactly what Max was not-so-subtly asking of you without having to say it. 

It was a skill of yours, knowing what Max meant without him having to say the words, knowing him like the back of your hand. 

Max took a seat on a stool that was tucked into the island whilst you finished preparing the coffee, moving nice and slowly around the kitchen. 

It was the simplest of moments but somehow Max couldn’t hide the smile that was on his face. It was his perfect morning, him, you, in your home, with no one around to disturb you. 

You were still messily dressed, hair thrown up into a chaotic bun, makeup free as you moved around the room, exactly how Max loved you the most. He didn’t care for the ridiculous expectations that were placed on the girlfriends to constantly look at their best, he just wanted you to be happy and feel relaxed to be you in the comfort of your own home. 

Once the two mugs were full you spun around and placed them in front of you both, sitting opposite Max as his hand stretched across the island. 

His palm was open, inviting you to take a hold of his hand. You did as Max requested, feeling the pad of his thumb brush against the back of your hand, noticing how in deep thought Max suddenly seemed to be. 

You decided to leave Max for a moment, wondering what was going on his mind. His smile was one that was full of content, wondering how he ever managed to get so lucky with the life that he lived. He loved driving, travelling the world, being able to call himself a world champion, but none of that mattered to him if he didn’t have the little things, the most important of which being you. 

It was always comfortable between you both, you had such a vivid understanding of each other that words were never usually needed. You just absorbed the morning, feeling thankful to finally be back in each other’s company once again. 

Before you knew it, the steam started to disappear as the drinks beside you began to chill. There were no words, minimal actions and yet you still both felt complete. This was your dream, as crazy as it might sound to others, just having one another there really was all that you ever needed. 

As Max took a hold of his mug, you did the same, reluctantly allowing your hand to slip out of his hold. 

“Happy?” You quizzed as he took his first sip. 

Max hummed in agreement with you, “beyond happy, just being here with you is all that I need,” he added, keeping his eyes firmly on you, making sure that you knew just how sincere he was about you. 

“I love you,” you whispered. 

Max’s eyes perked up as he heard you speak, letting go of a chuckle to himself, never quite getting used to hearing you say those three words. 

“I bet that I love you so much more.” 

Your head shook, but you knew there was no arguing with you, if there was one topic he always won it was the topic of how much he loved you. 

It scared him sometimes how much he did. He’d grown up hearing that opposites attracted but he never quite believed how true it actually was until he met you. You were so different sometimes, but it just clicked perfectly. 

“Just shut up and drink your coffee,” you laughed, struggling to know what to say to argue back with the stubborn man before you. 

“Gladly.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[razzle-n-dazzle]

saw u wanted more Adam fics

Adam x f!reader

reader is trying to sleep but Adam keeps trying to show her and tell her stuff. “Like babe hey babe look at this!”

“Babe babe wait did I tell you?”

“Babe holy shit wait guess what!!”

*meanwhile she screams into her pillow*

ᯓ★ "Adam, Love, SHUT THE F-" Adam / Reader | Drabble-ish

ᯓ Do you know those days where you just need a little piece and quiet? Like after a long day of work, where your boss was being unreasonable and your coworkers were being even more unbearable than usual. A long day when you go out to eat for lunch and yet the place you decide to go is busy more than usual, and of course it's on the one day you just wanted an easy meal, so you decide to sit and wait. What is the harm of that? Apparently, a lot. Especially when everyone has a stick shoved up their ass today, and when running over your lunch would have been understood and excused any day sparked a fire from Hell in Heaven. And it was only my five minutes! You were late to the office by five minutes despite having been sitting, waiting for lunch for twenty out of your thirty allotted minutes, and doing work to be ahead of schedule for your boss! You were late by five minutes because the sidewalks had been unreasonably crowded for that time of day and you had sprained your wing rushing not to be late earlier that morning because your boyfriend wanted to be up your ass for an extra five minutes this morning!

ᯓ Safe to say you just proved that there could be bad days in Heaven, no matter what anyone else said and you desperately needed a nap. Or maybe you just needed to knock out for the rest of the day, you weren't sure, all you knew was that your bed was calling your name and that was the only thing on your mind right now. Well, it had been the only thing on your mind until you stepped foot into your shared apartment. "Oh perfect fucking timing, Sugartits, come here!" Adam, with an obnoxious amount of energy today, waved you down to the couch. "Hurry up! You know I love to see that ass move when it walks, but this is super fucking important." And what could entertaining your boyfriend before you went and knockout for the rest of the night do? You mean, it was only thing he wanted to show you.

ᯓ "Fucking, look. Look!" Adam exclaimed as you heavily sat down next to him, allowing for him to cheekily swing an arm around your shoulder. This promptly led him to lean against you as he stuck his phone out, a video pulled up. You watched it to entertain him and his little fancy for whatever he had found; Being able to snuggle into his side in the process and listen to his hysterical laughter during the whole venture. It wasn't nothing too exciting, some sort of slapstick humor video and you understood why Adam found it hilarious, but you just didn't have the energy to laugh at it today. So you gave him a small chuckle as his arm found itself crossing down your back and wrapping around your hip, his hand resting on your thigh. "Oh fucking shit! You see, now that shit if fucking humor, comedy gold!" You needed whatever acid trip Adam was on and desperately.

ᯓ You would hum briefly in agreement towards his statement, feeling as his chest quickly rose and fall as he choked out laughter. Even with such motions you couldn't help but be drawn in by his warmth, snuggling closer to him. And you're sure he noticed, as he was sneakily trying to coax you more and more, using the hand that now was daringly close to your ass, to sit on his lap. Against his harsher, more lively breath, yours was slower and shallow, and as Adam managed to get you to snuggle up to his chest while on his lap, he took notice. It was hard to not to, especially when the sound of you not laughing with him just hit his ears. So confused, Adam would pear down at you. A few nervous bits of laughter left him, a silent signal for you to take notice of how he noticed your odd behavior, yet he died down as you didn't seem to notice (or care) much. Which caused his eyes to narrow and his eyebrows to frown up, a worried frown tugging onto the side of his lips. "Uh, Babe, you good?" His question was accompted by his gravely voice, which was now lower in volume and a lot less sure of himself. "You didn't fucking laugh at the video."

ᯓ "You do know this is comedy gold right? Gold! Not laughing at it would be a fucking crime." Adam would wave his cellphone near your face, flashing you with the bright light which caused you to promptly turn your head away from him. He noticed as your face scrunched, yet you didn't use your wings or hands to knock the phone out of his hand like usual. And that's when he really started to become concern. You weren't acting as you normally would with him, you weren't laughing at the videos he founded or retorting to his antics with your own. You were just laying there, curled up onto his lap with droopy wings and a weak hold around his chest. "Holy shit, Babe, you're not dying are you?" Was the first thing that blurted out of Adam's mouth, being the first thing thought that crossed his head as finally took a real notice of how bad of a state you're in. How the feathers on your wings seemed all out of sorts, how one wing was a little more puffed than the other, how eyebags had began to form under your eyes, and just how tired and weak you looked.

ᯓ "...and you're not getting fucking ugly either are you? It's not contagious is it? Because I can't be fucking ug-" You were swift to cut Adam off, pressing one of your hands against his mouth to muffle any more stupid shit he had to say in this moment. To which Adam drew back a little and started down at you, a moment of shock before unamusement crossed his face. He was gentle, more so than usual, as he picked up your hand by the wrist and drug it away from his mouth. Though he didn't say anything for a good moment, silently (and a little anxiously) waiting to see if you would say anything to him. And maybe it was the nerves on being the on the battle field too many times, or the anxiety of losing another lover, but Adam grew more and more disturbed at your lack of communication or movement the longer the silence wore on. "Babe," He gently nudged you, watching as you just let yourself roll back into place. You didn't even give a hum that time. Now Adam could feel his stomach doing little backflips. "Babe." This one came out a bit more stern as he nudged you a little harder. Yet, you only rolled back into place, not acknowledging his efforts on trying to make sure you weren't dying. Were you fucking dying? Holy shit, that would not be something Adam would want to go through today. "Babe! Sugartits!" Adam shouted, forcefully shoving you away from his warmth by the shoulders, "Please fucking tell me you're not about to die on me because that would be really fucking traumatic!.. If you're going to die at least do it in like, the bedroom or something!"

ᯓ You knew Adam didn't mean it, that he was just trying to stir a reaction out of you to make sure you were alright, yet his comment kind of pissed you off. Less so than when he forcefully drew you away from your only source of heat and comfort from the cruel reality you had to live today. So, reluctantly, you gave our a murmur, "...tired... shut up.." and forcefully tried to lay against Adam again; Trying to just take a small nap, or simply hide from the day you had today in your boyfriend's arms and warmth. Even if one of his hands had been resting on your ass. "Babe, you can't be fucking tired, it's not even dinner. Who the fuck is going to cook because last time I fucking remember you telling me I couldn't." Adam asked in a huff, though was silently relieved that you weren't just about to die in his arms like some dramatic soap opera. So, he let you lay back against his chest. It felt nice to have your weight there anyways. "Adam... shush.." Again, you tried to hush your rather obnoxious boyfriend, even for a little. And you knew he knew that you were tired, on the verge of passing out; It was a dead give away when he fluffed out his wings and wrapped them around you, noticing had dead you felt against him.

ᯓ "But you're still fucking making dinner though, right?" He would quip, a snicker growing on his dumb face as he leaned down to the side, promptly laying you both down. Now you knew he was just being a dick about it, that or he was just glad that you weren't silently suffering and dying against his chest. But either way, you were going to leave his question unanswered as you buried his head against his chest. No matter how much shit Adam might give you, you always found comfort in his warmth and with him being near. It was kind of like having an annoying dog that looked and sounded all tough and scary and was sometimes a big dick, but secretly cared about you under all the gunk. "Fuck it, I'll just order in." Adam muttered, placing his chin on the top of your head (having to curl around you a little to do so) as you were sure he began to pull up menus of restaurants nearby that delivered. And as you drifted off to sleep, you liked to believe he did so, so you didn't have to worry about cooking when you woke up. But you knew that was only half the truth, the other half was that he was probably craving those lamb chops he absolutely adores. And you were fine with that.

Home | Masterlist

ᯓ★ All posts/fanfictions posted under this blog is owned by @razzle-n-dazzle. Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize the works! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.

[sugurizz]

(SMUT/NSFW +18 - minors DNI !)

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭.: Joo Jaekyung x f! reader - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 , 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: "𝐒𝐞𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬, 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐗…

...Don't you think that's strange?"

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 / 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dark content ahead!, explicit content, dubcon, graphic content, dom/sub dynamics, power dynamics, HEAVY degradation, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, anal sex (hardcore anal btw), multiple rounds, Jaekyung putting it in every hole you have, creampie (anal), insults /nicknames (Doc, slut, whore, etc...)

𝐰.𝐜: 1,2k.

𝐉𝐎𝐎 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐆 − 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

'I see you've made up your mind, doc...'

The husky voice came from behind your shoulder.

'...If that's the case, then hurry and strip to your underwear. Haven't got the whole night for this.'

He wanted to get it over with and frankly so did you. If you could skip to the moment he plows into you like a beast in heat you would. Your self-restraint slipped through your fingertips as you pulled your shirt over your head. As it did for seeing him undress and toss his luxurious bathrobe with no care. He pulled his boxers just low enough for his shaft to bounce free and towered over you with his erection in your face.

'suck.' He shamelessly pressed it against your lips, raven eyes locked with yours. And so you obeyed, taking him straight into your throat.

'See my size, hmm? oughtta get that throat nice and ready, miss doc.'

His girth stretched the corners of your mouth as soon as he pushed it in. The calloused hand grabbed your head and pulled it into his shaved pubes. You could feel his veins pulsing against your throat as his skilled fingers tugged on your locks.

Your chest instantly swelled at the lack of air, hearing him growl the deepest 'Mhh fuck! so fucking tight...'. He yanked your head back at once, almost making you throw up. the shiny strings of saliva still pulled your lips to his still throbbing tip.

'Not half bad, miss. But I ain't cumming in your mouth tonight.' He smirked, chest rising and falling as he tried his best to hold back .

His lips pursed together, spitting a load straight on your tongue and smearing it over your mouth before grabbing your jaw between his fingers with a maniac grimace on his face.

'If only Coach and the rest of the black team knew what our doc does in her free time...' He chuckled and smacked your cheek.

'If only they got to watch 'Miss perfect' slobber on this cock like a whore.'

His vile words jabbed at your pride, almost making your tears spill out, but you still had it in yourself to defy him.

'I'm not the one with the sex jinx...'

'Oh, got ourselves some attitude too, huh?'...

He slammed you down on the bed and sat on top of you, blocking your legs between his and forcing your jaw open.

'Don't try me. I'll fuck it right out of you, miss doc.'

You hated his attitude, or so you thought. Though your pussy clenching at his nasty words suggested otherwise. He flipped you over and pulled your underwear to the side, dragging his tip along painfully slow.

'Running your mouth while wetting your cunt senseless seems quite insencere of you...Don't ya think?' He teased and pressed it deeper against your entrance.

'B-But it's not like that! I'm just...'

A painful smack hit your ass, leaving the red imprint on your cheek. You cried out in pain and grabbed at his arm, your juices staining his perfume-fragant bedsheets.   

'Ah...Mr. Joo!, p-please stop..'

'Aww, got ya begging so fast already? slutty doc.' He lifted you over his lap and thrusted in, ripping the loudest scream from you.

'AH!' You threw your head against his chest in surprise.

He stood up and held your whole body in his arms, bouncing you up and down his length. You felt almost weightless in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and muffling your loud sobs into his neck.

'Mr Joo, s-slower...please!'

'Shush, And hold on tight. Your butt's gonna hurt a bit now...'

He pulled out and gave himself a few pumps before switching into your tiny butthole.

'Sir, wait! I've never-'

'God, get it together now, would ya?' Another spank electrifyed you, making your asscheek all red again. 'We still have a long night ahead of us!'

He hammered away at your stomach, The flush on his cheeks gaining a darker shade. The pain of his reckless thrusts toned down, yet his unmatched stamina had you chewing your poor lip.  

'Mmh who could've guessed? Miss doc's getting her ass pounded like a slut.' He grunted, 'you sure carry yourself different outside this room. hmm?'

His pace got faster as his fingers dug deeper into your poor thighs, panting and groaning against your damp skin.

'Aghh..even I couldn't tell how well you could take cock when I first met you.' You knew he was fucking you stupid when his bitter words flew over your head. your brain didn't really catch a sound. Your senses saturated with him filling you up, till your body almost collapsed under his much bigger frame. His fingers instantly caught you by your neck, pulling you back up to him.

'Arch that back properly! you keep fucking slipping.'

'Sir! when..d-do we get to rest..agh' You could barely articulate from his cock punching your g-spot. And he'd be lying if he said the view of you babbling your nonsense while gushing on his dick didn't drive him wilder.  

'Ever rode dick before?' He teased,

'Cause you'll be the one taking charge now.'

He layed down and folded his arms behind his head, smirking at you as he stopped moving inside.

'Your turn, miss therapist.'

You leaned forward, already feeling dizzy, palms holding tight onto his defined pecs. Then slowly rocked your hips with his, whimpering as your clit kissed his pelvis.

Your skin lit up with every touch of his own, almost as if his touch burned you. His grip on your thighs kept you from falling, yet you still felt lightheaded, almost like passing out. He grabbed your waist again and slammed you shut on his cock with a furious impatience.

'AHH, Fuck!' You mewled as you came on his stomach right away. The shockwaves rushing through your muscles had you crash down over his torso right away.

'Hey. I'm far from done here.'

He lifted you off his chest and placed you under him. And you whined in response, feeling him enter you again

'Get your shit together now. I ain't here to baby-sit!'

His pace got instantly erratic and so did his grunts. Driving you insane with his hands manhandling your back, spanking your ass, grabbing your waist, squeezing your hips and mercilessly tightening around your neck.

'F-uck, I cum inside by the way.' He grabbed you in a chokehold as he pumped his potent seed in your butthole, then grinned and pulled out slowly, whispering into the crook of your neck

'I just made you my cumdump. Congrats, Doc.' you tightened at the sound of his voice,  pushing his cum loads out your hole. He licked his lips in full pride, relishing at the sight of your seeping butt before pulling you to his chest again.

'Oh and just so you know, I never go less than 3 rounds on my matches' eve...'

Your body grew numb, and equally did your brain. Though you knew he had yet to satisfy his desire. You didn't know how much longer you had to go, nearing to pass out on his greedy lust. His rough touches spared no spot on your flesh, his powerful thighs slamming yours in the most feral ways...

-----

...You woke up to the mild sunrays, faint hints of his cologne bringing back the lewdest flashbacks he gave you. He was nowhere to be seen, only a large-sized towel left on side of the bed you believed he layed on.

You grabbed your phone as you slowly regained your senses, seeing a notification on your screen.

'𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝. 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞., 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐭?'…

𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑?...

𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒.

[lucvly]

headcannons of chris kissing you 😿

KISSING HIM HEADCANNONS! ( chris sturniolo. )

warnings › kissing, making out, suggestive and a little smut if you squint!

author’s note › i’m DROOLING and SALIVATING over this man y’all please. this is so short?

⊹ let me start off by saying chris loves kissing you. doesn’t even care where fr, acts like he hasn’t been kissed ever i swear.

⊹ kissing him always turns out sloppy idgaf. chaotic, a lot of tongue, his hands on your waist, pulling you closer !!!

⊹ hand placement. he knows what he’s doing– he always rests his hands on your waist or on your ass LMFAOOA.

⊹ softer kisses with him are adorable. as much as he hates to admit it, he loves it when you’re cuddling with him and you start playing with his hair, occasionally kissing the top of his head. he’s melting. he deadass does not care about anything else as long as you’re playing with his hair and giving him kisses.

⊹ absolutely loves cheek kisses. especially if there’s a height difference and you have to lean upwards to reach him, or even better if he has to be the one leaning up.

⊹ he doesn’t really resonate with the whole “only being affectionate in private” type of thing so he genuinely doesn’t mind just swooping you into a soft kiss at any moment, even if you’re in front of your friends or his brothers. so there’s absolutely no issues regarding public displays of affection.

⊹ as much as he loves reassuring you verbally, he feels like kisses are a much better way of showing you his affection. sweet and gentle kisses are only one of many ways he tries to convey his affection.

⊹ definitely uses your sweet spot against you, not in a bad way, but more so as a weakness. say you’re in public with your friends, having a conversation about something unimportant– suddenly his lips are on that particular spot on your neck he knows all too well.

⊹ y’all can argue with me all you want but chris would definitely have a playlist for makeout sessions, he’d absolutely disguise it as something else, naming it something discreet like “🤓” and it ends up being the hottest and heaviest playlist he only plays whenever you’re in his room.

⊹ he kisses your hands, i don’t care. princess treatment is all he’s giving you, at first he started doing it jokingly, taking your hand gently and leaning down to kiss it– but after a while, it slowly started becoming more casual. it’s so cutesy bye.

⊹ when you’re completely in private, his kisses get slower and a bit more sensual, almost always guiding you to sit on his lap, despite your tongues fighting for dominance.

⊹ don’t even slightly tug on his hair unless you want him to go absolutely feral. he’s a sucker for hair pulling. mhm. moans and whines are always filling the room if you even accidentally pull on his hair.

⊹ he’s so serious about small gestures that involve kissing; good morning kisses, goodbye kisses, kissing when he gets home, goodnight kisses, etc.

( once you accidentally left the house without kissing him goodbye and he thought you were mad at him— he ended up calling you and you had to drive back just to give him a quick kiss. )

⊹ he’s ticklish idc ☺️☺️. you’ll be in the middle of a makeout session and suddenly he’s giggling because you kissed a specific spot on his shoulder nd you’re like ????.

⊹ he’d be the type of boyfriend who kisses you even if you’re sick. you warn him about how he’s gonna get sick too if he keeps trying to kiss you. (“i don’t care,”) so you hesitantly give in. the next day, nick’s calling you asking why chris is uncontrollably sneezing.

[mynamesaplant]

Forgiveness is Electric

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just a little short story about @critterbitter's hc of Emmet, Ingo, and Elesa. This is between the Volume Control and Volume Control (Reprise). Just a tiny change, Emmet caught Tynamo bc I sort of forgot when he did... My bad. Please go take a look at Critter's work, it is beautiful in every sense of the word.

I lied about posting to AO3 last time with Yearning for Wood Floors, but I will update that soon along with this one.

Enjoy!~

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I do not think she will like those.”

“Who doesn’t love sweets?”

Ingo argued, plucking a box of Snom-Caps and turning it over and over in his hands. He contemplated the choices of candy in the aisle, the teenage clerk puffing their long, purple-streaked hair from their eyes behind the counter as the two children agonized over their decision. The clerk, Dakota, saw Ingo and Emmet in here all the time, the former had something of a sweet tooth and the latter… Well, whatever the opposite of a sweet tooth was, that was Emmet. The kid just loved sour things.

It wasn’t unusual to see them, but it didn’t usually take this long for them to make their selection. They had been there for nearly fifteen minutes, painstakingly reading each and every label and discussing them in hushed undertones. That was unusual by itself. Ingo was not known for his volume control.

Although unusual, they weren’t worried about them doing anything shady like stealing or being careless and knock things off the shelf. Might as well let them go about their business. To pass the time, they watched the fretful newly acquired Tynamo circle around them faster and faster until Emmet snatched the Pokémon deftly from the air and soothingly stroked its back.

“I am Emmet. We do not know what she likes.”

“We must do something! I just feel so dreadful.”

Emmet could see Ingo working himself up over this, just as he had a few hours ago, and Emmet placed a reassuring hand on his brother’s arm. His smile and eyes softened as his twin turned to him, Ingo’s eyes glittering with emotion and whatever proclamation dying on the back of his tongue.

He hadn’t meant it. He really hadn’t. He always got too loud when he was excited.

It had just backfired on him horribly.

Ingo cringed even now as he remembered the tears in her eyes, her hands slapped over her ears, and eyes huge with confusion and pain. She had run off before he could even apologize, and that knowledge was eating him alive all day.

Candy wouldn’t fix this. In his heart of hearts, he knew that, and maybe he had come here to grab himself some of his favorite snacks to ease the pain of losing a potential friend.

It was hard for them to understand others. Emmet and Ingo were so in-sync with each other that everyone seemed to be moving so much slower by comparison. It was like playing charades with someone who was underwater, the twins made perfect sense to one another, but it was unclear to everyone else.

This was not new to them, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating.

With their moms being busy with work and their uncle who didn’t have much interest with them most times, Emmet and Ingo came to rely on each other almost exclusively. Drayden would give them a little bit of pocket change, but never much. They had to be ultraconservative with what he gave them and had taken it upon themselves to run around Anville Town to take little odd jobs.

Leaves to rake? Oran berries to pick? Snow to shovel?

Emmet and Ingo did it all and saved what they could. They barely scraped together the money to purchase the Pokéballs needed to catch Tynamo and for additional balls to try and catch Ingo a starter.

Even though they knew everyone, they weren’t really close to anyone in town.

That could have been different if Ingo hadn’t ruined everything!

“Perhaps sweets are not the solution…”

Ingo finally admitted, setting the box down and rising to his feet. Readjusting his cap on his head and dusting off his knees to unconsciously tidy his appearance, Ingo’s frown deepened in thought. Even if he and Emmet apologized to her, Miss Elesa would not understand them. Drat! If only he had remembered her hearing aids, he had completely forgotten them tucked behind her black hair.

Emmet watched his face scrunch up, clearly having a long inner dialogue with himself where he alternatively berated himself and told himself that there was no crying over spilled milk. Gray eyes scanning the shelf, he took a bag of sour gummy-Bewear for himself, and chocolate covered pretzels for his brother, before hauling them to the counter where Dakota waited.

Tynamo drifted just below his elbow, still quite nervous around new people and often retreating to its ball when too anxious. Emmet’s soft encouragement was the only thing keeping the EleFish out while Dakota rang up both bags.

“Tynamo? Good for you, kiddo. I hear they’re not easy to catch.”

They rested their elbows on the counter, chin resting atop with a kind smile to the quieter twin. Dakota could see him beaming with pride, but he merely nodded, shuffling on the spot while he fished in the pocket of his overalls for some money. His Tynamo, like its trainer, seemed a little bashful at their words, and retreated into its ball.

“200… I think you brother is comatose over there.”

Dakota said not unkindly. Emmet jerked his head to where his brother stood motionless in front of the candy.

“Ingo!”

It was Ingo’s turn to jerk out of his, as Dakota had put it, “comatose state”. He trotted over to his side, staring at the bags of candies with confusion before it all seemed to click into place.

“You did not have to spend your pocket money on me.”

Emmet’s smile softened at the bashful note in his sibling’s voice. He wanted to. Ingo was feeling down, his twin often overthinking problems and burning himself out in the process. Emmet liked to take a step back to listen and reflect on people and conversations. A little break would do Ingo some good, so he insisted on the treats.

“I am Emmet. I wanted to. Yup!”

While Dakota bagged their treats in a small brown paper bag, they couldn’t help but lean over the counter to examine them. Although many people didn’t understand the secret code that the twins exchanged between glances, mouth twitches, and hand movements, Dakota could tell something was awry. Withholding the bag, they leaned over the counter with a faintly curious expression and a light tone.

“You guys alright?”

Unsurprisingly, the two exchanged looks, and a wordless conversation was held between them while Dakota waited. It was Ingo who swiveled his head back to face them, his face knit into a calculating grimace that seemed a little less friendly than usual, but only marginally.

“Yes,” he said slowly, eyes not breaking with the clerk, but they could see him shifting uncomfortably. “Emmet and I are attempting to right a wrong. However, we are encountering several roadblocks.”

There is a pause. Dakota still held the bag just out of reach as they gnawed on their lower lip. This wasn’t really their business, and they weren’t the type to stick their nose in where it didn’t belong… They thought of Drayden, who spent a lot of time in Opelucid and not watching his nephews – he barely spent any time with them.

They’re just kids.

“Do you need some help? It’s my job to help customers in the store y’know.”

Another pause. Another exchange of glances.

“I-” Ingo tries to being, already hard pressed to say anything and even less so when his sibling elbowed him in the ribs and shot him a look. He wouldn’t be allowed to take all the blame. “We upset one of our classmates with our carelessness. We think she was attempting to befriend us, but- uh… there were a few errors on our part.”

“And you’re trying to get candy for her to forgive you?”

“We thought about it, but it grew too complicated. We do not know what candy she likes, but more importantly, we do not think it’s a suitable apology.”

The clerk nodded, tapping the counter in thought as they tried to piece together some genuine advice for the boys.

“I think it’s a nice peace offering, but I think an apology would be better.”

“We broke her hearing aids… Yep…”

Emmet croaked suddenly, shrinking back in shame at the same time that Ingo grabbed the brim of his hat to tug it lower over his eyes.

“Ah,” Dakota hummed, tapping the counter even faster. They meant the new family that moved in from Sinnoh. They remembered their dads talking about the new signs that had to go all over town for the girl’s safety. Dakota couldn’t remember her name. “How did you break them?” They asked, already knowing the answer.

“Volume control.”

Ingo cringed, remembering his uncle’s warning about his naturally loud voice. Inside voice, Drayden had been emphasizing, and Ingo was trying to take those words to heart, but it was difficult. Since Ingo’s face didn’t emote well, he relied on his voice and his movement to articulate his emotions to others. They nod sympathetically.

“You didn’t see them?”

“No…”

The boy was squirming now, his shame and embarrassment with the situation reaching an all-time high. He felt Emmet moving to his side, reassuringly pressing against his arm, and resting his head on his twin’s shoulder. A flood of comfort helped Ingo release a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

Behind the counter, the clerk was rummaging through something – although tall for their age, Emmet and Ingo couldn’t see what they were doing. They heaved a box onto the counter, tipping it so the contents spilled out for them to see, and the boys were confused.

“Headphones?”

Emmet leaned forward on his tiptoes to look at the colorful array of boxes that ranged from normal headphones to ones that had Pikachu and Eevee ears topping them.

“Yeah, uh, maybe if she wears these, you’ll remember right away that she has headphones in.”

It was a half-baked idea. In truth, Dakota felt a bit sheepish about it now that the idea was out of their head, but when they looked up, the boys were beaming – well, Emmet beamed. Ingo reminded of them of their friend’s Purrloin in a way they couldn’t quite put their finger on.

“Bravo! What a marvelous suggestion!”

Ingo practically cheered, stepping beside Emmet to look through the headphones. It was probably going to cost them a bit from the tags on the boxes, but it would be worth it. The headphones would immediately remind Ingo that she had hearing aids in so he would be more inclined to get Miss Elesa’s attention in a different fashion, but it also might do the same for others who were unaware of her deafness.

“Sure – er, thank you…” Dakota was looking at the prices now and mentally smacked their forehead. They probably couldn’t afford the headphones. “I’ll-” They hesitate. It almost pained them to say what they were going to next. “I’ll pay for them so you can take them to her now.” The twins’ eyes went wide, both about to protest when Dakota interrupted, “In exchange, you can do a few chores for me at my place. I need to do some yardwork, but it always gives me hay fever. Sound like a deal?”

The answer was easy for them. Dakota told them to pick ones that they thought Miss Elesa would like.

“I think these ones are quite dashing.”

Ingo said, picking up the box with the Pikachu ears. Emmet pursed his lips and shook his head.

“Nope. Too big. Not a gamer girl.”

They continued to rummage through the boxes. They agreed that she must like Electric types. She had a Blitzle as her partner after all.

“I cannot recall, she is from Hoenn, correct?”

Emmet shrugged, unsure himself because they had both been looking through a magazine with an expose on the newest train lines running out of Nimbasa when she had been introduced. That just meant to them that, when the time came, going on their Pokémon journey by rail would be all the easier.

“Not sure.” He looked at the box Ingo had in his hand and his smile broadened, nodding in agreement to his brother’s unasked query. The perfect balance of subtle but stylish. “I am Emmet. Those are perfect.”

Plusle and Minun headphones.

[keys-hellscape-1020]

Stoner!Tim Drake

A/N: to the one nonny who requested this I’m SO sorry I deleted your ask I feel so bad!

Stoner!Tim Drake x gn!Reader

Content warnings: descriptions of Weed, descriptions of getting high, Tim calls reader baby, descriptions of physical touch, mentions of dominant and submissive behavior, mentions of orgasm control, mentions of possessiveness,

————

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, this man very rarely smokes blunts. He typically sticks to carts and sometimes edibles. If someone offers him a blunt he’s not gonna turn it down, but it’s not something he seeks out. He just thinks they’re too much work, plus he typically gets distracted by something else, leading to them burning out before he gets the chance to take the last couple hits.

He only buys the best of the best quality carts however, especially if he’s sharing with you. No half-assed shit for his baby. He also has an insane amount of them. You open his nightstand? Cart. His kitchen cabinet? A Tupperware with 2 different carts and way too many edibles to be considered normal. You go to clean his Red Robin uniform for him? He has 3 carts in his utility belt. When you ask him about why he has so many in his crime-fighting uniform he just shrugs and says “Different types of highs baby.”

He also seems to get high at the strangest times. He has a stakeout? He’ll get blasted. When asked why he says it helps him to focus on the task at hand. He runs out to pick up breakfast for you both? He’ll come back high. You don’t even know how as he was sober when he left and, at least to your knowledge, he didn’t take anything with him that could get him high. Yet here he is. Slightly red eyed and clinging to you.

Despite that if you ask him to be sober for something he will in a heartbeat. If you don’t want him to get high on your date nights, done with zero hesitation. You worry about him getting high on patrol? He’ll do it much, much less, without so much as a second thought. With his work as Red Robin he is all too familiar with how drugs can affect people so if it makes you uncomfortable he will limit your exposure to it as much as possible.

If you don’t mind however and even smoke with him? Be prepared for the best high of your life. You know when you feel like you might be able to take one more hit but you’re not sure if it’ll make you green out or not? Tim knows if it will. He has it down to a science. Tell him how high you wanna get and he will carefully watch you the whole night, instructing you on if you should take another hit or slow down for a while. Even when he gets blasted, he can still do it with perfect accuracy. It’s honestly really impressive.

Speaking of how he is when he’s high, he’s gotten uncannily good at hiding it. That’s part of the reason he gets high so damn often, most people can’t tell. Once you know him well enough however there are a few very minor signs you may be able to pick up on. For instance, he tends to fidget at a slower pace, or do different fidgets than he does sober. And those are the ones that are the MOST obvious. It’s safe to say he hasn’t gone to a Wayne industries meeting sober in years.

But when he’s in private and high? Oh boy he is SO clingy. Sober Tim is anxious and a bit conservative with his affection, especially early in your relationship, but get him high and he will be ALL over you. But only with your permission!

The first few times you get high with him he gives you the best pleading look he can muster before leaning in, lips a few inches away from your skin, so you feel the words more then you hear them. “Can we please cuddle baby?” It’s all you can do to nod dumbly in agreement. Tim lets out a relieved moan and all but falls against your side, hot breath still burning a hole in your skin.

However he’s also very easy to work up when he gets like this. You’re gently scratching up and down his back one second and the next thing you know he’s on top of you, gently grinding into you, almost like he’s afraid you’re going to disappear if he goes to hard. He whispers out a desperate “please baby. Need it so damn bad.” So breathlessly you’d be insane to say anything but yes.

The second he has your approval he’s frantically removing your pants, and shoving his mouth over every inch of your that it feels good on. Tim gets desperate and needy when he’s like this, and the one thing he wants right now? You to feel good. And without a doubt you will be feeling good.

Tim has every inch of your skin memorized in his mind, every movement that he needs to execute in order to make you feel good. That’s nice while he’s sober but it can almost feel a bit… rehearsed. Almost like he’s putting on a performance for a play. But when he’s high? That problem is completely gone. He still has all that knowledge of what makes you feel good but he’s not as afraid to tease or try out new moves. He’s not scared to get a bit lost in his own pleasure while giving you head, and it really makes everything feel that much better.

Speaking of getting lost in his own pleasure… he tends to lean a bit more dominant when he’s like this. A stark contrast to his typical submissive or otherwise pliant behavior in bed. He’ll grind into you, tease, make you beg. He likes to try out orgasm control, edging you until you’re practically in tears and then making you cum so hard you need to tap out for a water break. Don’t worry however, he’ll make sure his baby is always taken care of by the end of the night.

Also this man gets possessive while high. He’s already a bit possessive when sober, he just hides it very well. However when he’s high he’s less subtle. He’ll be clinging to you, unwilling to separate unless absolutely necessary. He also LOVES it when you wear his clothes, and the hickies decorating your neck, and chest, and pelvis, and thighs, and well most other parts of you show it.

All in all Tim can hide being high very well when he wishes. When he doesn’t have any reason to hide it though? Well let’s just say you’ll be in for a long night.

[eufezco]

Hi. Are you still doing Bridgerton requests? And if so, can you write something about the reader discovering she's pregnant but deciding to wait after twenty weeks to tell Colin because she's worried about the risk of a miscarriage and at their engagement party the reader faints (similar to Penelope) and the family doctor confirms reader's pregnancy and Colin is shocked and a bit betrayed but the reader tells him why she did not tell him right away and Colin understood.

SHOULD'VE SAID

english isn't my first language. no use of y/n

One of Colin's arms was around your body, hugging you against him while he happily talked to your mamas about your plans after the wedding. You stopped taking part in the conversation a while ago, was it too hot in the room or did it just seem that way to you?

The smell of the food turned your stomach, the tight corset that barely let you move now seemed not to let you breathe either. The voices of the people talking so loudly and their laughter gave you a headache and you blinked slower and slower each time.

Colin noticed how you moved restlessly under his arm.

—Are you feeling well? —He asked you.

You nodded. —I just need some fresh air.

You left Colin's side to walk to the door but your feet felt too heavy and you found it increasingly difficult to focus on keeping your eyes open. The air entering your lungs was not enough and your breathing was very slow. You tried to reach Anthony, Kate and Benedict Bridgerton who were by the door or you thought it was them, you could hardly recognize them anymore because of your blurred vision.

Your legs felt very weak and when you tried to take another step, they gave up. Colin had not taken his eye off you so when he saw you collapse, he dropped his crystal glass on the floor and put his arms around your body before you hit the floor. The last thing you heard was the gasps of shock from the guests and Colin asking for someone to call the doctor.

When you opened your eyes you were in your room, lying comfortably in your bed with Colin sitting in a chair next to you, holding your hand. His eyes lit up once he saw you awaken and he kissed your knuckles. —How are you feeling, my dear?

You hummed and rubbed your eyes. —I feel well. What time is it? How long —. You hissed in pain when you tried to sit up on the bed and you placed your hands on your belly. You looked at Colin in panic and he squeezed your hand. He put his other hand on top of the one in your belly.

—Everything is fine. —He assured you.

—Colin, I am so sorry, I—

—How long have you known?

You swallowed nervously. —Two months —. Colin's face broke down as he removed his hand from your belly. You grabbed the hand that held yours tighter so that he couldn't let go. —But I promise, Colin, I was going to tell you eventually.

He frowned. —Eventually? Why did you not tell me the moment you knew?

You were getting nervous and tried again to sit up in bed, this time the sharp pain that you felt was much worse. You hissed again and squeezed your eyes shut as you let go of Colin's hand to take them both to your belly. He quickly got up from the chair in case he had to call the doctor, but you grabbed his hand one more time to stop him.

Colin was upset, disappointed with the decision you made to keep it from him but there was no way he was going to let you go through pain. He sat back down next to you and let you squeeze his hand as the pain passed. He looked at you, with his big dark eyes making sure that the pain did not go any further, he did not care about the explanations, only that you were well.

Your eyes filled with tears, you were worried about the baby and you were afraid you had disappointed Colin. —I wanted to be sure before you knew. The doctor told me that miscarriages occur very frequently up to week twenty. If something bad had happened, I would have rather that you-

—If something bad had happened I would rather have gone through it with my wife than have her suffer alone —. Colin used his thumb to wiped away your tears.

—I am sorry, Colin, I should have told you —. More tears slid down your cheeks but Colin was quick to catch them.

Carefully, he made room in your bed and helped you lay your head on his chest. He murmured the sweetest words of comfort as he caressed your hair with one hand while his other one went to rest on your belly. Once you had relaxed, you asked him who else knew about the baby and Colin told you that only your families knew.

There were a few seconds of silence caused by everyone's surprise at the doctor's announcement, but that silence was broken when Hyacinth and Gregory gasped and immediately rushed to ask the doctor thousands of questions about when they could see you, how was the baby after what happened, and whether it would be a girl or a boy. Your mamas were so happy that the two women hugged each other. Benedict and Eloise patted Colin on the back which brought him out of the shock of the news while Kate and Anthony looked at the father-to-be with big smiles on their faces

—You know? Anthony was very happy when the doctor said you were pregnant but I truly believe he is also a little jealous that I am going to become a father before him.

You giggled and hugged Colin tighter.

Colin wanted to scream to everyone that you were carrying his child but he had to wait until after the wedding, until then he could just lie there caressing your belly and feel it grow little by little.