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#it’s been a couple weeks but the ideas are still kind of there
whiskeyghoul · 17 hours
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Pt.6 || She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!reader]
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First part, Previous part, Next part
A/N: Ah okay this took a bit longer than expected. I really wanted to do this justice but that took a while oops. I really hope you enjoy it. A bit more good vibes towards the end. There are more plans for part 7 with backstory so hopefully that will be up and going soon. Maybe some spice? If people want? Let me know. Remember to please reblog when you can!
WC: 3,4K
Tags: alt reader, little hurt comfort, past relationships, making up, hurt comfort-ish, fluff. 
Warnings: Mentions of past relationship, toxic relationships, hinting at nsfw
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Your POV
When Spencer left the office it took a few moments for Penelope to return. Being alone in the room, surrounded by computers and Garcia trinkets, it was still incredibly lonely. You felt horrible, tears were threatening to fall from your eyes. Like they had been the entire day. You felt like a dick. Spencer had been nothing but nice, kind, looking at you with those big brown eyes like you were the only person in the world. It was just unfair that when you finally had something, someone, to look forward to talking to, that it was all taken away. You were at fault too of course. It wasn’t just the situation, you actively pushed him away but only to keep him from getting hurt.
The door opened, Penelope walked in looking concerned. “Boy genius looked upset. What happened? What did you tell him?” the two questions you really didn’t want to answer. “I just told him I needed time to work on something. Fix something.” You answered after swallowing thickly. “You didn’t tell him about Tommy?” You told Penelope before about how bad your ex was, how he had snuck into the building and left you a ‘gift’. It was always about Tommy. He made sure of that. Popping back into your life when things went well. Squashing any form of happiness down, stamping it into the ground. 
The thing with Tommy was that when you had been together he had been almost dismissive when it came to showing it. Your relationship felt shallow, like you didn’t know the person you had been with. Only discussing the basics, never truly getting to know each other on a deeper level, when you did it was a rare occasion and you both used it against each other. You had a different kind of passion though. There was undeniable tension in the way you teased and called eachother names. It was a love hate relationship if you had ever seen one. Hate seemed to be your way of love with him. It lasted 6 months.
You don’t even remember how it came to be, because it happened on a drunken night out with a mutual friend. A former friend. Who made a comment about the way you berated eachother like an old married couple. You made a comment about how you’d never do him. He made a comment about how you would be lucky to have him. Jabs were made, words were said. Then suddenly, the next morning, you woke up in his apartment with your clothes discarded on the ground and black lipstick marks on his neck. Somehow it happened, and you don’t remember hating it, nor the time after. That was the start of it.
You do remember hating the end of it. Every week ended with a fight, and not in the way you had been used to. This didn’t have the usual quips and remarks, no it was truly using sore spots to anger each other. Every week he would try to make up, apologize, buy flowers or make dinner. But every week would end the same as the one before it. You were stressed, sick and tired of the continuous flip flopping of his personality. His words were venom, and every week it settled deeper into your body, festering, feeding this growing idea of leaving him. When you finally found the courage, the right time, his reaction shocked you.
He hit you.
He apologized profusely after that. Trying to reconcile once again but that was the straw that broke the camel's back. You packed up the few items you had at his apartment and left. Still he didn’t seem to be able to let it go. Every so often he would pop into your life. Like he had done the weekend before, leaving a gift on your doorstep. Something to remind you he was still there, watching you, following every step you took and swooping in as soon as you got close to someone. Making you relive the entire thing. This time it was a small paper gift bag with a tag that stated he missed you, inside was a jewelry box you didn’t even open. It sat there on your doorstep for 3 days until you caved and brought it inside. Still though, it sat on your dining room table, unopened. 
“Yeah… He uh… I don’t want Spencer to be caught in the middle of it. I don’t know how far Tommy is willing to go.” You shook your head slightly, trying to shake away the memories. Penelope stared at you, mouth slightly agape “And you didn’t think that the FBI agent could help you with your problem?” she managed to bring out, there was clear confusion in her face. “Yes, but I need to do this myself. I don’t want to burden Spencer with this. It’s my thing, and I won’t let him ruin something good again.” You took a deep breath, knowing you might have ruined your chances with Spencer just now. It made your heart ache, terribly so. “I can hack his phone, tell him to back off, put a virus on it so it opens every porn site known to mankind as soon as it gets close to you?” Penelope’s tone being serious made you crack a smile. “Let’s keep that as our plan B.” There was a hint of humor returned in your voice.
You thought about it, you really liked Spencer. Tommy was standing in the way of things for you and you needed to get him out of your life once and for all. You looked to Penelope, “I just hope I didn’t lose my chance with Spencer.” You admitted before you were enveloped in a tight hug. “I’ll keep an eye on him, let you know if our boy genius comes back.” She said as you returned the hug. She was a good friend. The best. Always looking out for you and you so hoped she felt the same about you. You thanked her before you took your leave. Promising to keep her updated on what you were doing. 
You: ‘Is Spencer back?’
You texted Penelope the question as you sat in the lab waiting for the centrifuge to finish. It was Wednesday, you had been able to talk to Tommy that Sunday. Talk was a big word. He took your contact as an admission that you still liked him. That you wanted him back. When you told him to leave you alone he got angry. Which threw you right back to the fights that you had with him before. It was like nothing changed for him. Things had changed for you though. You finally realized he didn’t care about you, he didn’t want you back, he wanted the idea of you. 
Spencer hadn’t shown up to work again since Thursday.
Penny: ‘No, I wanted to go check on him. I can’t get a hold of him.’
Penelope replied to your text. The ding of your phone pulling your attention back to it. The fact that Penelope, the sweetest, most caring, technologically adept person you knew couldn’t get a hold of him meant he really didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. ‘I’ll try and text him again.’ You sent the message to Penelope before quickly changing to Spencer’s contact. Your previous messages sat unanswered.
You: ‘Spencer, can we talk?’ Sun, 16:30
You: ‘Are you coming into work today?’ Mon, 8:38
You: ‘Spencer? Could you please answer me? I want to talk about what happened.’ Mon, 12:45
You: ‘I fixed it.’ Mon, 12:46
You: ‘Please text me when you see this.’ Tue, 15:24
It was ironic. These messages were so similar to what Tommy had sent you when you first broke up. You really didn’t want to become like him. Just when you had finally gotten rid of him. You sighed, typing out a new message. Hitting send you quietly waited for a reply. Turning the chair you had been sitting in. Looking at the phone screen every few seconds, anxious for an answer. Watching the minutes pass by felt like it was taking forever. Until the phone buzzed alive, the screen lit up with a message.
You: ‘Spencer, everyone is worried. Just let me know you’re alive.’ Wed, 12:36
Spence: ‘I’m okay’ Wed, 12:40
You breathed a sigh of relief, the nerves settling down. Finally, he was speaking to you again. Or well, texting you again. Which was better than nothing in all honesty. Missing spencer for 6 days has been torture. No conversations, no lunch together, not even a quick pop by the lab just to get the notes on a case. You didn’t think you could miss someone so much. Especially when you had only known each other for a few weeks.
You: ‘I’m coming over after work. I need to talk to you.’
Spencer: ‘What? You don’t have to. I really don’t need you to check up on me.’
You: ‘It’s not about checking up on you. I want to apologize in person, explain what happened…’
Spencer: ‘You don’t even know where I live.’
You: ‘So text me your address. Or I can ask your colleagues for it.’
Spencer: ‘...’
Spencer: ‘Alright.’
You: ‘I’ll get you something to eat on the way over. Anything you want.’
Spencer sent you his address, and a request for chicken tandoori from a place near his apartment. A smile crossed your lips, he had needed time but he was accepting you coming over. Maybe, you could make up. There was just a little glimmer of hope. You quickly texted Penelope that Spencer was alive, and you were going to check up on him later that day. Explaining you were going to talk about what happened, to hopefully get on his good side again. Maybe have a shot at going on a date again, though that was probably too soon. You realized you had hurt his feelings, terribly so, but it was to make sure you could get rid of Tommy. Without him hurting Spencer in the process. You didn’t know what he would be able to do. An explanation was necessary, for sure.
So you stood in front of Spencer’s apartment door. Bag of Thai take-out in hand. You had texted Spencer before you left the Thai place, letting him know your ETM just to make sure he was prepared for you showing up. Nerves had begun to coarse through your body. The fact he could still be angry with you was weighing deeply in your mind. Though accepting your coming over was a step in the right direction it didn’t mean he’d necessarily want to listen to what you had to say. You just hoped he would be willing to listen. To have a conversation.
You reached your free hand up, knocking on the apartment door. Waiting a few seconds before hearing movement inside. The door opened and Spencer stood in the entrance. His hair was disheveled, a slightly large cardigan hung from his frame, just a t-shirt underneath. His eyes were tinged red. He looked… not so great. Tired. You had really hurt him. A sinking feeling in your stomach, it was terrible to see him like this. You never wanted this. “Hey.” The word came out strained. “Hi.” Spencer said in return, his eyes looked you over. You realized you weren’t looking so hot yourself either. Comfy clothes had been your go to for the past 2 days, a sadness settling in your bones at not seeing Spencer, not hearing from him. A way too large zip up from some band you didn’t listen to anymore, with holes at the cuffs from nervously picking at them in times of distress. You had foregone makeup too, not feeling the motivation for it the past days. 
“I brought the thai you wanted. We should eat before it gets cold.” You said, holding up the take away bag with a sad smile. Spencer took a step to the side, “Right, thanks.” He said as you walked past him into the apartment. It was somehow exactly what you expected from Spencer but still surprising. There were books everywhere you looked. The massive shelves that lined a wall were filled to the brim. There was a leather couch in his living room, where a blanket laid haphazardly over the arm. A small table sat next to the window, a chessboard atop with a game configuration.
It smelled like him. 
“I really like your apartment, it suits you.” You complimented as you had your look around. Taking everything in as Spencer walked to a small dining room area. “Thanks.” Spencer’s answers were short. Annoyingly so. You walked over to the table, placing the take out on the table. Watching as Spencer got plates and cutlery out and handed you your set. You got all the food out, separating yours and Spencers out and placing them on different sides of the table. You wanted to face him when you apologized. So when you both sat down you took a deep breath. “You w-” “I am s-” Both Spencer and you spoke at the same time. It was so similar to when you had both spoken that Thursday before. You let out a soft laugh, it was borderline ironic that when you wanted to apologize it happened in a similar fashion as when you upset him.
Spencer looked at you with a hint of confusion, maybe a bit of disdain at your laugh, “You wanted to talk?” he said as he piled his plate with the chicken tandoori that smelled so flavourful. “Yes. I wanted to explain, apologize…” you said, slowly putting some rice and chicken masala on your own plate. “I am sorry about what I said. I was afraid you would be caught in the middle of things that would put me in a bad light. Or maybe make you realize I am not worth the trouble.” You started, “I have an ex, Tommy, who ehm… how do I even explain this.” You felt nervous, this was the first time you had actually said something about Tommy to a guy you might like. “Tommy wasn’t the greatest. And when I finally broke up with him he couldn’t let it go.” You watched Spencer’s expression change, you couldn’t place it though, it wasn’t pity. Pity is what you usually get when you tell people about your emotionally abusive ex. No, this was different.
“He stalks you?” He said before you could continue. You were a little surprised he found that out with the words you used. Before remembering that’s what he does, behavioral analyst. Finding answers through just the smallest of details. “I hope he won’t anymore.” You answered, “I talked to him. He found out about you. After we went to the museum together he had left me something.” You continued, “And it made me realize that I didn’t know how far he was willing to go to keep me from meeting someone. I did not want you to realize I am not worth the trouble of dealing with a stalker. Or, for you to get hurt because of something he did.” you fell silent, Spencer was so too. His eyes on you felt heavy. Analyzing every little move, facial expression. “Why didn’t you tell me? I don’t… I don’t think that. I wouldn’t think you aren’t worth the trouble.” He sounded just a little upset. Like the mere thought of you not being worth the trouble was appalling to him. “But you still could have gotten hurt.” You protested. “If I was scared of getting hurt I wouldn’t have joined the FBI.” He answered so seriously. It made a wave of relief wash over you. 
Spencer took a bite of his food, which reminded you that yes, you were here to eat too. “So… You’re not mad at me?” You asked before taking a small bite of your own food. It was nice, Spencer was right to order from here. “I’m not… I was sad, a little confused at first. I knew you were hurt too… which is why I wasn’t mad. And I am not mad now.” He explained after swallowing his bite. “I am hurt that you didn’t tell me. That you think I would leave at the first signs of trouble.”
You nodded your head, he had a right to be hurt. “I’m sorry, I was just, people tend to leave. Or I don’t let them get close enough to really know what was going on. It caught me off guard that you were the first. How quickly it happened too.” your voice still sounded a little strained. Speaking words and thoughts that had subconsciously taken up your mind. Ones that you didn’t give the time of day before to fully develop, to acknowledge. Penelope sent him on purpose, she must have known, or had an inkling that the good doctor would break down your walls. His disarming nature, sweet demeanor, his smile. Everything about him made you feel safe. It was terrifying.
“So what did you say to get him to back off?” Spencer asked, seemingly a little interested, though his voice was a little soft. You cleared your mouth, “Well… I don’t know if it worked just yet.” you started. “But, I eventually made him realize how stupid it is to threaten a person who has access to lab equipment and various kinds of poison. Oh and also that if he so much as glances at me again Penelope will put a virus on all his electronics that will cause them to irrevocably be loaded with porn and viruses.” You felt just a little devious, a small smirk playing on your lips. You looked up at Spencer who had his mouth slightly agape, his eyes wide as he processed your words. He looked surprised until a soft chuckle escaped his lips, “Remind me to stay on your good side.” He laughed.
You missed that sound more than you would like to admit. More than you expected.
“I don’t think you could ever get on my bad side.” You said it, eyes softening as you looked at Spencer. His eyes mirrored yours. There was a kindness in them with a hint of sadness still. “I wouldn’t even want to try.” he said those words almost like a whisper. They were imbued with tenderness. It made a shiver run up your spine, a warmth settled in your stomach. “Can we go back to normal?” You asked, putting down your utensils on the table, “Please?” You didn’t want to plead but you didn’t want to lose Spencer. The only thing on your mind was wanting to be close to him again. You waited, watching as Spencer thought for a moment. The silence was nerve wracking. The only thing you could feel in that moment was your heartbeat. The seconds felt like minutes instead. You waited in bated breath hoping he’d be willing to make up. Hands fidgeting with the holes in your sleeves. Teeth assaulting the inside of your lip.
“Yeah… I’d like that.” You let out the breath you had been holding, relief washing over you at his words. Shoulders sagging down as finally relaxation took over fully. “Thank you, I couldn’t stand not hearing from you every day.” you spoke and you watched Spencer visibly relax too at your words. “It was hard to ignore you.” He confessed. “You better never do it again then.” Yeah, this started to feel normal again. “And you better finish your food. You gotta get up early to meet me before starting tomorrow.” You teased, taking a bite of your own food. “Or you c-'' Spencer stopped himself, a small blush tinging his cheeks. It was a little surprising, you didn’t understand what he wanted to say, but he looked extremely adorable blushing. “If you want, we could watch a movie after?” He said, it wasn’t what he wanted to say at first, but it was something that he wanted to spend time with you again. “I’d love to.” You nodded your head yes.
So after dinner, you sat on his couch together. Both dressed in your shabbiest clothes. Your head leaned against his shoulder, a blanket wrapped around the both of you. The smell of Spencer completely enveloping you. Completely at ease. Though still wondering what he really had wanted to say.
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WIBTA for pursuing a relationship with the person my ex accused me of cheating with?
I am extremely mentally ill. I won't spend time listing them all, but I got medicated and I feel relatively stable. I've struggled with addiction in the past, but have been clean for a year and a half at this point.
My last relationship was not a good one. This girl, we'll call her Emma, was dating my best friend. I was on their first date (it was a group thing because they met online) but my friend ended it with her after the third or fourth date. Emma asked if we could still be friends, and I said of course, but she quickly started making moves towards me. I don't think she ever really liked me in particular, because we were barely compatible, as much as she liked the idea of a partner. It just so happened that she was looking for the idea of a partner at the same time that I was feeling lonely and looking for some vindication. It all moved incredibly fast and about a week later, she was officially my girlfriend.
I was pretty much completely disassociated throughout the entire relationship, which lasted about four months, and I ignored her off and on. I was super shitty to her, and I've apologized for this thoroughly since the breakup. However, she was also kind of shitty to me. She was constantly jealous about people in my life, accusing me of cheating on her. She was especially jealous of one friend I had, who we'll call Cameron, because Cameron acted as my love interest in a production I was in (I'm an actor). I always get a little attached to the people who play my love interests, but I dismissed it as nothing but our characters. I assured her I hadn't cheated, and she even went through my phone a couple times (without my permission) and found nothing.
Anyways we finally broke up about half a year ago, and decided we were much better as friends. She's still in my life, and we're both doing much better in terms of mental health. We both apologized to each other for all of our shitty behavior.
However, recently, I've gotten a lot closer with Cameron. I realized that my feelings for them may not have been "showmance"-induced. I just don't want to ruin the fragile friendship I've broached with Emma. It wouldn't be anything serious, as I'm not sure I'm okay enough for that, but I do really like them. I also kind of want to see if I'm capable of using the tactics I learned in therapy, or if I'll always be shitty.
It feels like a bad idea, so it probably is. But, WIBTA if I pursued a relationship that I know would piss Emma off?
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catboybiologist · 1 day
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Oh btw, minor grumpus update if any of y'all were concerned:
Russian Tortoises have a full hibernation cycle that they do in the wild. As pets, full hibernation would have to be induced through a carefully controlled environment. I don't have the expertise to do this fully, however, they naturally go into states of pseudohibernation for about 4-7 months.
The Creature is an absolute weirdo that does this, but switches summer and winter for no discernible reason. He spent most his life in a completely temperature controlled environment, and I guess the lack of cues made his internal season clock drift. My apartment is slightly less temperature consistent, so I thought that might fix it, but nope! He was in pseudohibernation when I got him in July last year, stayed that way until November, spent the Winter and Spring stomping around, and in the past couple weeks, has been gradually slowing down. These past couple of days, he's had an activity level consistent with his past summers.
This unfortunately means that I can't get too many photogenic pictures of him, since he spends most of his days like this:
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He's always been like this, during both the time I've had him and the 20+ years he spent as an educational/outreach animal for kids. I also worked with him for a couple years during that time before having him as a full time pet, so I know his habits pretty well at this point.
During my summer travels, he'll be left with trusted relatives who will take care of his day to day care, and I'll be periodically dropping in to check up on how everything is going. They've pet sit for him before, and know what to do.
This is honestly ideal for me, because it gives me time to get/build him a better enclosure. As a very temporary measure, he's been in a too-small habitat for the past few months, with as much outdoor and floor time as possible to give him time to exercise and roam. He spent most of his life in a tank that was 1.5'x5', also with plenty of outdoor and floor time. Both are too small as full time living situations, and its only because of letting him out that I felt comfortable with it even as a temporary measure. Of course I won't stop outdoor and floor time, but I don't want to rely on them. One of my summer projects is to sketch up plans for a larger enclosure (20 sq ft or more, still on the smaller side but still with the idea of giving him the soccer field to roam when necessary), and I want it ready by the time he wakes up. If anyone has suggestions for that, I'm all ears!!!
I'm mildly considering some kind of bioactive, but I'm worried that'll be more effort than its worth, and have a risk of breeding pathogens. Another idea I had was a kind of "seperated bioactive"- have a small glass tanks for isopods and plants separate from him enclosure, and use his food scraps and poop to supplement that enclosure. I could grow some dandelion and edible wildflowers for him in there, closing the "loop" but separating the potentially "dirty" part from the Grumpus himself.
But again, no idea if that'll also be more trouble than its worth. Just pontificating. I welcome any and all suggestions!
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mrs-snape5984 · 2 days
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“I'll meet you on a day that never ends. I'll greet you in a way that heaven meant…”
“I hope you don't break my heart of stone. I don't wanna scream out loud and wake up on my own…” (“Idler’s Dream” by Oasis)
Considering, that I don’t see any way out of the misery, which my life has become since this cruel and inexorable disease ME/CFS has robbed me from being myself, I’ve started to commission some of my beloved artists of Snapedom with a special project of mine. I explained to them, that I’m slowly fading away from my life as well as from other people’s lives. It started two years ago, when this sickness got me into her relentless grip, forcing me to let go of the life, I’ve known before. Losing more and more of my abilities and strengths with each passing day, I’m finding myself in an unstoppable spiral of torments.
Nowadays, I’m not capable of leaving my room and most of the times even my bed anymore. Day in, day out I’m surrounded by darkness, silence and solitude. Participating in social activities, in milestones of my children or even in longer conversations with friends isn’t possible for me anymore. My presence has lost its meaning and purpose.
Whereas my phone didn’t stand still in the beginning of my disease, when friends and colleagues were worried about me…it’s getting more silent now. People are starting to forget about me…and yes, I can absolutely understand them. It must be frustrating to send messages or attempt to call me without getting a proper reply. My former boss told me some weeks ago, that people are feeling speechless about my situation, so it’s easier for them to forget about me…letting me become a faint memory in the back of their heads. This is exactly, what I meant, when I said, that I’m fading away…and it’s okay. I can’t be mad about it. I understand.
It’s also happening here on tumblr…and yet, here are still some kind people, who seem to notice my silence. I was astonished to hear, that my friend @capysnapeart, whom I commissioned for this beautiful artwork of Severus and my highly self-inserted OC Jules, searched me in a sweet post on their blog, after not hearing from me for several days. I was even more dumbfounded, when I realised, that other lovely people of Snapedom had also noticed my absence from my online life. This was very unexpected, but - indeed - touching and heartwarming to me. Thank you for not forgetting about me.
The project, which I’ve commissioned @capysnapeart and some other artists for, should show the different stages of the life, I’m expecting to have after my final breath, which doesn’t seem to be so far away anymore. I’ve set myself a limit…a certain point of no return, at which I won’t be able to accept and endure my pain and my suffering anymore. Well…let’s just leave it like that.
In my imagination, I will be able to choose, how my afterlife will look like. I will be with Severus, the character, I’ve been clinging on for the past 21 years, already. I imagine, that we will meet at the age of 11 years and from then on, we will spend the rest of our lives together...growing old together. It may sound strange and pathetic, but this is all, that I'm wishing for. I want to come home to him...
I asked Capy to draw Severus and Jules as a middle-aged couple…sitting on a bench in front of their little cottage at the sea. I’d love to see them being happy together…finally living the life, they’ve always wanted to live…the life, they’ve deserved to have! They’re cuddling on this wooden bench…feeling like home in themselves.
Capy, my dear friend, I’m beyond grateful for your understanding of my wish for this mesmerising artwork. You’ve managed to capture the peace and the silence of this scenery so perfectly, that it made me shed countless tears of longing. A longing for this fantasy to become true one day, when I will let go of my existence, eventually. Thank you for your talent, your kindness and your acceptance of my ideas. Feel hugged! 🫂🥹
🖤Severus & Julia🖤
🖤Sevy & Jules🖤
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ilyiwdtpyiwmyhmtkys · 23 hours
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Rohan headcannons?
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a/n: oof, i can try but you’ve been warned… it’s not gonna be good (because we don’t know too much about him) and it's not gonna be really long... credit to @x-liv25-jamieswife for helping me
| tags: @urbanflorals @reminiscentreader @nqds @annamatix @x-liv25-jamieswife @sophiesonlinediary @lyrakanefanatic @thatrandomlemononyourcounter1 @fortunatelyjollybeliever @123letsgobestie @off-to-the-r4ces /
he’s a BIG wine drinker and if you give him any kind of wine he cane always identify what kind it is and everything
he has a stepsister that he grew up with but now he’s not close to her and he thinks about it all the time
he a HUGE germaphobe and he was always has hand sanitizer and wipes with him just in case
he can play the harp (or some other fancy instrument but no one knows because he thinks it’s embarrassing
even though he’s actually really good at it
he wears a lot of rings and other jewelry on occasion (why am i low key falling for this man 😔)
speaks a bunch of other languages that he’s kinda just picked up over the last couple of years
he used to pickpocket or something for the fun of it but he would always find a way to return it because he would end up not using it
he learned how to fight by himself (bro still lost to jameson tho)
he definitely had some crazy ex-girlfriend or something that was obsessed with him (and still is??)
not a hc but who do we think his love interest is gonna be because i have no idea
whenever he was bored as a kid or needed to distract himself he would study maps so now he just has a bunch of random countries and their locations memorized
he buys a lottery ticket like once a week and he usually doesn't win anything but once he actually got like 300 dollars
lets be honest tho he probably lost the money within like a week from all the gambling and betting that he seems to participate in
has a bunch of secret social media accounts under a fake name so that he can look at what people are doing
he knew who avery was before it was brought up at the devils mercy but he originally thought that she was a gold digger (like grayson did yk)
can we talk about the fact that he had like a crush on her in the brothers hawthorne and it kept making jameson mad like that was so funny
he has a really unique music taste but it's actually kinda good (yall can choose who he listens to because i'm tired)
nice hands... like don't even with me right now
he's always messing with his hair whether or not he's upset or not, it's just a habit that he has since he was younger
a/n BRO I'M SO FAST WITH IT RECENTLY ANYWAY MY INBOX IS EMPTY SPAM ME
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yuriisclumsy · 3 days
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I'm so excited that more people started taking cale request!!!✧\(>o<)ノ✧
Anyway hiii! Can I have an enemy to lovers with cale henituse and fem.reader idk something cliche like a dance scene or one gets protective of the other or maybe a cute "oh shit I'm actually in love moment"
Sorry I'm bursting with ideas rn.~
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Love's Dance
Part 1 (You are here) | Part 2 (coming soon!)
𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2,729
Authors note: You ask, and I shall deliver. PS. why did you give me such a good idea? like, I'm at 5k word for the overall thing, and I am not even done yet... (send help)
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The streets of Roan Kingdom's Capital were bustling like usual. The vendors selling their goods, children running around carelessly, mothers screaming at them to not get dirty, and the usual underground activity Arm did. 
I strolled through these streets, thinking of nothing and relaxing ‘til I get another mission. 
“That reminds me…Arm has been quiet as of late. Sigh…they are up to no good…” I spoke to no one in particular, walking back to the Quiet Isle lodge. 
Quiet Isle is an inn in an area a little off the center of the Capital. I stayed there for the past three weeks after finishing my last mission. The price to stay is cheap, while still being comfortable. It has comfortable rooms, a clear view, free breakfast, and most importantly, it wasn’t noisy at all! Bonus points for the innkeepers, as they have been nothing but sweethearts.  
All-in-all, a good Inn if you’re looking to get your coins worth. 
I went through the inn’s doors, a sweet aroma of lavender hitting my nostrils as I neared the front desk.  
The Innkeepers were an old couple, and the misses genuinely enjoyed the smell of lavender. That is why, as you walk through the inn, you’ll be met with an influx of light purples from the flowers. 
Reaching the desk, I was greeted by a senior woman whose smile could cure all kinds of child injuries. 
“Oh! Why if it is the youth I’m all too familiar with!” The old granny said, delighted to see me. 
 “Greetings, Granny Fes,” I vowed curtly with a small smile. “Have there been any new guests at the inn?” I asked as she extended her hand to give me a piece of candy. 
Receiving the small candy, I offered a small ‘thank you.’ She said a quick ‘You’re welcome!’ before responding to my question. “Yes, yes! I welcomed a few new guests shortly after you left this morning for a stroll!” she excitedly told me. 
“Two of the five I welcomed are a couple expecting a child! Isn't that exciting? Ouu, to be young again…” 
“Oh, please. I say you are still quite young!” I say to get her head out of that cloud. 
“Fufufu, you are too kind [Name].” Granny Fes pinched my cheek as she got a bit flustered. “I believe one day you’ll meet a handsome young man that is suited just for you.” She added. 
I blushed a little, “Oh no, I don’t think that will happen…” I pause for a second. “Do you really think I’ll get lucky enough to have that...?” I asked, not believing I would get someone special to spend my days with. 
“Don’t give me that!” Granny Fes yelled, as if scolding one of her own. “You are beautiful! Which man wouldn't dream of having a wife such as yourself!?” 
All I could do was smile in response. This is how I want things to always go. Living in a peaceful area, sharing memories with people I meet along the way, even starting a family. Arm is nowhere near that picture. And it will never be. 
But alas. Good things always end. 
“Ah! That reminds me. [Name],” she called my name and handed me an envelope, “You received mail from a young lad. He said it was urgent.”  
Looking at the envelope as Granny Fes left to continue her job, I had an ominous feeling, yet I couldn’t pinpoint what it was.  
I turned it around only to see Arm’s seal stamped on it. Arm only sends letters if it is an important mission, and based on the color of the seal, it is of utmost importance.  
I am already not liking this I thought, refusing to open the letter. Maybe if I were to pretend its existence was nothing but a useless paper, it would disappear. But alas, I needed to open the envelope. With worry present in my face I opened it with the seal. Inside was a letter addressing Agent White Gold.  
That code name. It is the thing I despised most in this world. 
To Agent White Gold, 
Play time is up, White Gold. You have been assigned a mission in the Henituse Territory. We have discovered the traces of the leader of the organization known as ‘True Arm.’ Your mission is to go there and find out who the leader of the organization is, dead or alive. It is your choice which one you pick.  
A carriage will come to pick you up at sunrise, so don’t miss it.  
Once you arrive at your destination one of our men will greet you and guide you to your resting location and hand you an envelope. Inside, you will find descriptions of the one we are looking for, alongside a list of individuals that we found to match the description of our target. 
Remember, Agent, we are counting on your success. 
Don’t disappoint us, 
Arm 
Dammit… The moment I receive some peace after working for them like a slave…! I angrily store the letter to shreds, as if it were them instead of the letter. All I wanted was to disappear from the eyes of those bastards. They took me from my home, changed me to fit in an identity they made…they just can’t leave me alone, can they? 
 
I wanted to say no. To be able to run away to a far corner of the world so they would never be able to find me. But it is impossible. No one leaves. Rather, they die. Dying was the only way out. 
Yet, I want to live. 
I looked at Granny Fes as she talked with a few guests that were checking out. At that moment I knew that if I tried to escape, they would get everyone I was surrounded by. She doesn't deserve that. Neither does her husband, or her children and grandchildren. 
It is best I comply. 
“Sigh…Once you're in, there is no escaping their grasp…”  
The sky was tainted in hues of blues, purples, and oranges. The sun was rising from the nap it took, and fully ready to greet us. 
A carriage arrived early at the Quiet Isle Inn. Inside stood Granny Fes and Gramps Liy right next to me. Their eyes expressed sadness when looking at me. 
“Why so sad?” I asked the couple. 
“Oh, it’s just…it’s just that we’re both sad you’re leaving so soon.” Granny Fes confessed. Her husband, a bit more stubborn, only scuffed. Granny Fes elbowed him hard with a smile still shooting at me, gaining a small scowl from Gramps Liy. 
“AGHEM,” he raised one hand to fake a cough, “I guess you will be missed.” 
I laugh at his antics. Deep down he cares, he just has an unconventional way of expressing his feelings. 
“I’ll miss the two of you.” I looked at them with a small hinge of sadness but kept a smile to reassure them. I looked outside to see the coachman wave his hand signaling that he was ready for departure. “It seems I must go,” I turned to them, “see you later?” 
“Yes, yes. Goodbye little lady.” Gramps Liy ‘shud’ me to the carriage as he and his wife stared at me opening the door of the carriage. 
“Farewell, sweetheart. Make sure to take good care of yourself. And remember to look out for good lads while you’re traveling!” Granny Fes nagged me like I was about to never come back. Although, she was right about that. I don’t think I will be able to come back if I want to protect them. 
I laughed and said a small ‘I will!’ as I climbed into the carriage. Closing the door the carriage started moving. I waved to the couple one last time before I could not see them anymore. 
Sighting, I took out the map I packed. Looking at my destination, it was a few days from the capital. “This is going to be a loong trip…” I commented, making myself comfortable for the journey ahead. 
I hope I get this mission done quickly, so I can get another vacation from Arm. I looked up at the ceiling. I mean…how hard could it be to find this ‘leader’ anyways? 
… 
An old butler walks dutifully around the state halls. In hand, he holds a tray with a fancy tea set with a steel dome keeping the food inside warm; its aroma could be smelled by the passing housekeepers with wet laundry. 
The butler knocked at a door, he did not have to wait long, as he got an immediate response from the person inside. Opening the door he says his greetings. 
“Good morning, young master. I brought breakfast along with your favorite drink.” He says as he places down the tray on the table close to the window. 
“Ah, thank you, Ron.” A male voice thanked the butler. 
“It is my pleasure, young master Cale.” The butler, Ron, bowed. 
The man, who is now identified as Cale, sat down on the table to enjoy his breakfast. 
“Young master, if I may…” Ron waited for permission to continue speaking. 
“*Sight* Just spit it out.” Cale said in an uninterested voice. This is another one of his tangents. Drinking the lemonade that Ron made as he thinks of Ron’s earlier endeavors. 
Ron smiled, “I have detected Arm activity within the city.” 
“PFF–” spilling all the lemonade on the cup, he looked at Ron with widened eyes.
What is Arm doing here?! They have more pressing issues to deal with! Like, figuring out who Real Arm is! Cale’s thought went haywire.
 
Ron took his handkerchief out and gave it to Cale to use. 
“What do you mean there is Arm activity in the city? Is it more bombs?” He asked while using the cloth given to him to clean the mess he made. 
He shook his head, “no, at least not yet. I have seen them snoop around the city for information. It would seem we left them a small lead.” 
“Not good…” 
“If you’d prefer, young master, I could go rabbit hunting.” 
Looking at Ron with a drop of sweat evident in his forehead, he reluctantly answered. “...do whatever you want.”  
“Hehe. Then I will take my leave.” He bowed before leaving the room without making a sound. 
Scary old man. He looked outside pouring more lemonade in his cup. It’s not a good sign if Arm is here. I need to prepare in case they strike. 
… 
“Hey, wake up! We’re almost there!” 
“WHAT? HUH–huh?” I got up from my seat at lightning speed, looking around in a daze. As I scoot closer to the window, I see the giant walls looming overhead. On top of one of the towers built in the wall was a flag. It was the Henituse’s family crest imprinted on it.  
I’m already in the Henituse territory! 
Getting closer at the entrance door of the city, the carriage stopped, as they had to do a check before letting anyone in. 
“Execute me, m’lady. May I have your identification paper?” A soldier asked me. 
Security check? When I traveled to other places, they didn’t ask for my identification but the coachman’s. 
I handed him the paper without complaint, receiving it right after he checked that everything was good. The other soldiers gave him a thumbs up after checking the carriage and the coachman. Without further interruption they let us through, wishing us a happy stay. 
“That was…something.” 
The coach man dropped me off at a tavern near the city square. Going upstairs to the second floor of the establishment, I sat down at a table near the edge of the balcony. Waiting for the man that was supposed to give me the information mentioned in the letter I looked out into the streets, I could see the liveliness of the people.  
They were too lively in my opinion. 
Hearing footsteps approaching my table I diverted my attention to them. I was greeted with a man wearing a hat with fancy clothing. 
“Hello, m’lady,” the man greeted by taking his hat off and vowing curtly. 
Didn’t know Arm also had rich allies. I thought, seeing the man's mannerisms. 
“Good evening,” I vowed slightly, “are you the one mentioned in the letter?” 
“Eager now, are we?” He sat down in front of me with a smug smile. He placed his hat down before taking out an envelope. He slid it across the table. As I grabbed it, I took out its content.  
It was a list of suspects. They all had red hair and were male. And that was it. No underground activities, no records, nothing. 
“That’s…it?”  
This is the only information they managed to find…seriously? I thought. Was someone able to sneak past Arm’s noses? How is that even possible? 
“Unfortunately, it is.” 
“Ha...!” I laughed at the absurdity of the situation. I looked up at the man after reviewing the list of suspects.  
“This is the only description we managed to find,” the smile on his face dropped into a frown, “only at the low cost of our scouts: a single spy was able to escape long enough to hide a piece of paper in a tree trunk…” he said. 
“....” I looked down at the list.  
To be able to kill all of our scouts…this is no meek foe. Just thinking of how strong they are sends shivers down my spine…  
“I have arranged a small room at an Inn close by here. I have left some equipment at your disposal. The location is on one of the papers in the envelope.” The man stood up and put his hat on, adjusting his suit a little before looking at me.  
“If you need anything else, I left a card at your place with instructions as to how you can contact me. Remember I’m at your service m’lady, Tata! ~” 
“I will keep that in mind.” 
Watching as he disappeared behind the doors of the second floor, I decided to order something to eat before heading to my fixed place. 
 
“…a festival?” Cale looked at the flier given to him. 
“That’s right,” Count Deruth, Cale’s father, said nonchalantly, “the festival will brighten the people's moods, as well as show that we are financially good.” 
Politics…. 
“Wait, here it says the ‘Henituse’s’ are attending…I don’t have to attend…right?” 
Deruth raised an eyebrow in question. “You don’t have to go.” 
“...” 
I must go. *Sight* My well-deserved rest has been postponed once again… can’t I catch a break for once? 
“On that note, I have reserved a spot on the city square where we will be presiding during the time,” he said as Cale gave him back the paper.  
“You don’t have to talk–or better said–you don’t have to even move. Just sitting there is enough.” 
Cale smiled at this I don’t have to move? Seems perfect to me! 
“I’ll be attending in that case.” 
“The festival will start in a few days. Be ready.” 
Cale exited his father’s study, walking back to his room. 
I need to tell Ron about this. It’ll be no surprise if Arm takes advantage of the festival. There stands a man with black hair waiting outside Cale’s room for him to come. 
“!” 
“Young master Cale!” The man runs towards him with puppy-like energy. 
“Hans, is there something you need?” Cale asked. 
“I heard from Ron that there have been suspicious activities happening in the city. So, I came to ask for permission to investigate.” Hans explained. 
Cale hummed. Strange. Usually, you would do these types of things without letting me know. Perhaps he thinks this is a bit dangerous and if he doesn't return, we know where to look? 
“You can do as you please, no need to ask for my permission.” 
“I see…thank you young master,” Hans vowed, “I will report back immediately once I find anything!” As he said that, he began to leave. 
“Oh, and, Hans?” Cale spoke before he could fully leave. 
“Yes, Cale?” 
“If you find anything, make sure to report first. Don’t go around making havoc, got it?” Cale instructed. 
“...yes” Hans responded with a bit of thinking, knowing it was the best decision. 
Let’s see what they have in store for us. Cale entered his room, he’ll laze around until the festival actually begins. What a bother… 
… 
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floralstorms · 1 year
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Moomins bug/insect etc. au that’s been on my mind for a while
I have a bunch of some ideas and more designs to make Ig but I just wanted to post these designs rn because they’ve been laying around in my files.
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plutolovesyou · 2 months
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i wanna show yall this rn because i'm excited about it tbh...it's gonna be cheesy and fluffy and silly. (can you tell i have way too much fun in picsart- that means i genuinely can't tell if the header thingy looks atrocious, cringe sure but legit can't decide just how bad). the imagine that inspired this.
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gabriellovescandy · 2 months
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Kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me
#I am so fucking tired of my parents#if I don't find a full time job soon (which i haven't been able to find for the past six months)#it's possible that my dad will be given the opportunity to live in our house by the state#apparently it can be done in around ten days once it's decided#can i trust my mother with these kinds of informations? absolutely not. but there is a 50/50 chances that it's true#i have saved as much as i could all my life in preparation of this moment and i do have enough money to move but it takes time#every other week my mother comes home with similar kinds of insane informations for me to process#one week she reassures me everything is fine and i have like a couple of years before leaving this house#the week after. this.#i have no idea of what's real or not#i am so stressed that last week i lost the ability to finction for three days straight#i am going insane#and i am in no condition to find jobs i've applied to very little positions in this timeframe also because of this stress that paralyzes me#i am not depressed but god i am indeed exausted#i also have surgery planned (do not know the date yet it's not a difficult one but i never had one and i am scared shitless)#and technically i am in a promising job selection but it's a public one so no one tells you nothing and it can take up to six months before#someone calls you back#so i am inside a limbo on every aspect of my life and it's unreal#i can't even see my psychologist because she's getting surgery next week so i'll see her the week after#i don't have the streight to write this new developement to friends#i think i'll just deadscroll for a while and then go to bed#i don't know. i'm so tired and at the same time not at all tired#i'm doing nothing with my days but i still need everything to stop#i don't know#stuff
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actualtoad · 2 years
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this has been such a weird last couple weeks of school though
#like i feel like my mental illness really pushed itself to the front for the last while there#not that it’s gone like im still within that time period i think#i just feel like i had a pretty regular routine going for some months there#like. wake up get on bus sleep on bus struggle through classes go home sleep wake up repeat#so i guess i was already pretty mentally ill. but my routine has changed to like#wake up at 3:30 wake up again at 7 get on bus sleep a little struggle through first hour sleep through second hour skip third hour#don’t turn in my fourth hour assignments go to french and pretend to be happy go to raider time and be uncomfortably quiet and then#stay after school for as long as possible to avoid setting foot at home for as long as possible#and then add in a couple mental breakdowns per week about the only adult who’s ever been like. kind. to me. in this way#anyway my math class just started and it’s just going to be a straightforward work day#our college grades are finalized but for the high school grade we’re allowed to retake any tests we did badly on#so i might retake the chapter five test. im just worried that i might do worse this time around#but anyway for today that’s not what we’re doing that. that’s an option for next week. im just going to stay here#but yeah. idk. im still filled with a huge amount of fear just about the idea of not having somewhere to go#like. i can’t drive. if the school bus isn’t taking me to school every day i just don’t have the support system i have during the year#idk. tara and elanor both live within walking distance. i just. definitely don’t feel that comfortable talking to them about stuff#or asking them for help with anything that’s very important#hey i just found out the kid who ‘‘prefers to be called daddy’’ dropped this class. good for us#can i tell you how uncomfortable it is. as the only person in this class with a name different from the one on the roster#for this random kid to be out here making fun of the idea of that#and saying he prefers to be called DADDY. it was. an interesting thing#to be fair it’s kind of funny. it just made me uncomfortable and he’s for sure transphobic so#it just wasn’t a good look all in all. even if it was a little creative#anyway my playlist is playing twinkle lights by the sonder bombs now. i love this song too. im going to turn off tumblr though#just out of respect for my teacher. i guess. like i should be doing something important right now#he gave us a work day and i should probably work about it#me. my post. mine.#delete later
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sophiamcdougall · 9 months
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I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again
I mean, I am. But still.
So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.
So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.
At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.
Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell
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So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.
I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.
This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.
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Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.
I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.
Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.
We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.
"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."
"A what," he asks.
"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"
"Oh! A turtle!" he says.
"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.
The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.
"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.
"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.
"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.
"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??
The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?
I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.
"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."
"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.
"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!
So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.
(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)
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yandere-daydreams · 2 months
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tw - unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, somnophilia, implied non/con, mentions of knots.
Puppy!Yuuta, who catches your eye the second you step into the shelter, despite the fact that he’s not at all what you were looking for. You need a service animal, and as cruel as it feels to say, hybrids of undeterminable origins with less-than-stellar past homes aren’t known to be very consistent, let alone trainable when it comes to such a high-stakes job. You were supposed to meet a pure-bred, highly recommended husky hybrid whose previous owner was no longer able to take care of him, but it was over for you as soon as you saw those big, dark, watery eyes – nearly hidden entirely by overgrown hair and jet-black ears that seemed to droop even lower whenever you threatened to look away from him. You’re already a lost cause by the time you ask a shelter employee for his name, and the paperwork’s signed within the hour. He leaves with you the same day, eyes on the ground and tail wagging a mile a minute.
Puppy!Yuuta, who was always meant to be someone's spoiled pet. He's shy, at first, scared to talk too loudly or cling too tightly or do anything that'll get him sent back to the shelter (no matter how clear you make it that that's a non-option), but it only takes him a few days to warm up to you, a couple weeks to come out of his shell, just under a month to start sleeping in your bed and trailing you around your apartment. He almost trips over himself when you ask if he'd like to wear a collar, and soon enough, he's more akin to a second-shadow than a dog. He does have some aggression issues, particularly when it comes to human men, but he's an angel with other hybrids, and when he bows his head and pouts, you really can't help but forgive him. With a life like the one he must've had, you can't really blame him for being so quick to bear his teeth.
Puppy!Yuuta, who's more than ecstatic when you mention still needing a service animal. He might not be qualified on paper, sure, but he's already constantly at your side, constantly worrying about you - it'd just feel wrong to go out and get another hybrid for a job Yuuta is more than capable of. He says he likes that idea of being able to take care of you, too - like you take care of him. You want to ask him not to be so sappy, to think of a slightly less sentimental way to say it, but when he's so happy and so, so proud of himself, it's hard to be even that strict.
Puppy!Yuuta, who cums untouched the first time you comb your fingers through his hair. You don't seem to notice, and he does his best to hide his face in your lap, to bite back the little, pathetic whimpers that crawl up his throat whenever you scratch at the base of his ears. He doesn't want to scare you, to be so needy so suddenly when you've been so kind.
Puppy!Yuuta, whose one and only flaw is that he can't seem to stop riffling through your dirty laundry. He can't be left alone for more than an hour without stealing one of your oldest, most threadbare shirts or worse, claiming a pair of your underwear as his newest chew-toy. You really should chastise him for it, but it's such an awkward thing to talk about, and he has such a sweet face - it's hard to believe he could ever do anything deliberately wrong. You've resigned yourself to just trying to limit the damage and salvage the less damaged items, even if those mysterious stains are a little hard to get out.
Puppy!Yuuta, who wishes he didn't have such a big, bulky knot. It's too thick and too heavy and seems to swell up whenever he gets even a little hard. If he didn't have a knot, he'd be able to actually thrust into you, rather than just fucking his fist over your sleeping body and imagining how tight you'd be, how pretty you'd look, how nice it would be to make you feel as warm and as soft as he feels because of you. He does what he can with his tongue, but you don't seem to like waking up with his saliva soaking everything between your thighs, and he always gets too excited when he tastes you. If he has to rut against your thigh that desperately again, he's afraid you might wake up and scold him.
Puppy!Yuuta, who can't wait until he works up the courage to mate with you properly. He knows it's still too soon, that it'd scare you to do it so abruptly, that he doesn't deserve it yet, but soon, he'll be able to to step up and take care of you as something more than just a pet. He's not there right now, but one day, he just knows he'll be the perfect mate for you <3
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fingertipsmp3 · 11 months
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You know what it is. She says the right things, but never does the right things
#it’s like how she apologises but keeps doing the bad thing. she’s hoping the words ‘i’m sorry about this’ will negate the bad action#but it doesn’t. because the action that was bothering me is still occurring#if you focus on her actions and not her words you get a person who really isn’t nice to be around#she’s nice but not kind. i think that’s what it is#like just to give an example; she offered me a lift to my physio appointment#and i didn’t take it but the thing is i Knew not to take it because it is a terrible idea to rely on her for stuff like that#like yeah; she’s picked me up from work a couple of times but one of the times i didn’t know she was doing it#she just showed up and was like ‘i’m your lift home btw and we’re going to get food on the way’#and the second time i knew she’d show up because she’d placed a pickup order with us lol#i knew she’d come get her sandwiches on time. i was less convinced that she’d show up on time (or at all) to pick up her ‘bestie’#so i honestly feel like that offer was her knowing it was polite to make the offer but that i probably wouldn’t take her up on it#because i made the appointment 2 weeks ago and she made the offer the day before. so of course i’d already have arranged a ride#if i had accepted; it’d honestly be like a 50/50 whether i actually made it to my appointment on time or at all#and that is the root of the problem. being NICE is offering. being KIND is following through#and i’m not saying i was entitled to a ride. like i would’ve been extremely grateful for one#what i am saying is don’t offer something like that if you’re not 100% sure you can follow through#another time she offered to help me move and i was like. i do not for one second believe you have any intention of driving me 2 hours#in any direction or helping me with my furniture and luggage#you know why i don’t offer to do stuff like that for people? it’s because i know i’m not going to because i don’t want to#and honestly the amount of times i’ve been hanging out with her and she’s said something like ‘i was meant to be helping mary with x today’#and i’m like. is mary stranded?? is she good???? mary needs to learn a few things#DO NOT OFFER TO HELP MARY IF YOU ARE NOT GOING TO HELP MARY. your words and actions do not match up. that’s not kind!!!!#once again thank you for coming to my ted talk#and no marys were harmed in the making of this; i just picked a random name. hope that helps#personal
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chuluoyi · 4 months
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HAPPY MARRIAGE
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- nanami kento x reader
“you don't deserve to be unhappy. and i don’t want to be unhappy, either.” you have always wondered where did you and kento go wrong. in the wake of your divorce, as you both returned to single lives, you and kento would come to realize what constitutes a happy marriage is... and it takes more than just love
genre: post-divorce angst, crack, misunderstandings, arguments, hurt/comfort, bestfriend!gojo is going to help your love life, and fluff in the end!
note: this fic... goes through a major change overnight after i was struck with a wholly different plot *sobs* and then i went through a major writing block for at least a week before i know what words i'm going to write :') anyways, this isn't really proofread so please forgive any typos to the anon who requested this and others, i do hope you'll enjoy it! tagging @tiredkitten as per request <3
listen to: today more than yesterday - kim jong kook
a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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No divorce ever comes easy.
When couples enter into marriage, they do so with the dream of a lifelong bond filled with love and compassion. You too did once. And even until now, you still want that for yourself.
When you married Nanami Kento three years ago, you thought it was for eternity. He was your dream man, the only man you could see yourself with. He embodied everything that was just and righteous, and he was also kind man, who would always put you first, shielding you from any sort of harm.
Even if the source of that ‘harm’ turned out to be himself.
“You don't deserve to be unhappy. and I don’t want to be unhappy, either.”
Strangely, you didn't resent Kento that much, in the end. At that time, both of you had come to terms with it and you couldn't blame anyone. But now, six months later, as you sat in this shabby bar, downing shots of gin with your thoughts swirling in an alcohol-induced haze, your emotions were all over the place, and moreover, the presence of a certain clown before you was just particularly irksome, and you knew that he was someone you could blame—
“Gojo, you prick!”
Gojo raised one righteous eyebrow. "Who, me? Sorry, but I'm not your ex-husband?"
Gojo Satoru was the witness to several milestone in your life. Insufferable as he was, somehow you clicked with him ever since your early days as a jujutsu sorcerer. You remembered sending him your handpicked wedding invitation, having him celebrating your promotions, and then coming to him with tears running down your face in the middle of the night, telling him, “We are getting a divorce.”
"You!" you snapped, slamming down your glass of gin, whipping your head around to face the blindfolded idiot that was your longtime friend. Your index finger accusingly aimed at him. "This is all your fault!"
"Wha—"
"Because of you!"
"Okay, now it's clear that you're just too far gone—"
You hiccupped, your tone laced with fiery emotion. "If it weren't for you—if you hadn't been so adamant about setting us up back then—!"
Gojo grimaced. Ah, so this was the so-called drunken musings. While it was amusing to see his friend of 7 years in this state, even he couldn't deny how a tad bit pitiful you were.
"...then maybe," you started to deflate, eyes watering and lips trembling, sniffling. "I-I won't have to go through this..."
Correction, you were so pitiful you had no idea. But still, as a longtime associate, he couldn't bring himself to abandon you there, wallowing in your sorrows all alone.
He sighed and patted your back. "There, there... what about I introduce you to other guys, hmm? See if it'll lessen the pain away?"
You shot him a look so hateful despite your bleary vision. "No! Last time you did, it ended in a divorce for me! I refuse to let you turn me into a two-time divorcee!"
"I'm pretty sure your marriage is far from my business, I'm just your kind-hearted, handsome broker—"
"Bah! You— tasteless prick!"
You burped loudly afterwards and Gojo winced, and then you suddenly (and theatrically, he might add) slumped face-down onto the table with a thud, passed out in all your drunken glory.
And Gojo could only stare at you in somewhat disbelief.
. . .
He thought then, that you were definitely going to owe him one after this.
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More often than not, throughout the past six months, Nanami also found himself thinking about you too.
Despite his calm exterior, separation with you didn't come easy for him. There was a reason he married you in the first place—he had loved you, and he too wanted it to last. You used to be the reason he went home on time each and everyday, the reason he eagerly anticipated spending his weekends with.
Everything had fallen apart before either of you realized it. Some disagreements suddenly spiraled into lonely nights, no updates during longer missions, your tears, and then ended with both of you filing the papers in the city hall to end it all.
Six months ago, he thought he was final with his decision. He thought it was the best as he was faced with the sight of your tear-streaked face.
“Kento, I’m not asking m-much, am I?” you asked between sobs, wiping your tears harshly. “Aren’t w-we family? Shouldn’t we be doing a lot of things—together?”
Recalling that moment now, it tugged at his heartstrings anew. Yet, despite everything...
“I’m telling you, I know my limits—”
“Is that all you have to say? Don’t you know how sick with worry I am?” you ended up shouting at him, voice quivering. “Put yourself in my shoes and think: how can I possibly sleep at night, constantly fearing that my husband might—” your voice broke, fresh tears flowing freely. “—might not come back?!”
He was the one who backed away first, who made you lose all hope, and ultimately, placed the sentence upon you.
“If you don't have it in you to... then, perhaps it's for the best that we... just get a divorce.”
"Nanami-san, you okay?"
He looked up from the sizzling barbeque grill pan to his junior, Ino Takuma, who looked concerned as he flipped the meat. "You have been staring into space for a while..."
"I'm fine, Ino-kun." He looked down and grabbed the tongs, flipping his side of beef.
Ino let out a sympathetic sigh. "Honestly, lately, you seem down."
Words he was holding back were "ever since your divorce", but Ino was pretty sure his senior understood the implicaton.
Nanami hummed. "Sometimes life just doesn't go as swimmingly... I'm fine."
Ino never really knew you that well and was curious. In fact, he was so very curious. When it comes to Nanami Kento, everything he does and has done is always with justified and sound reason, but he might be biased because the 7:3 sorcerer was his role model.
It might verge on invading his privacy, but—
"They said... Gojo-san was your matchmaker back then?" he went through with the question anyway, testing the waters. "I don't mean to pry, but I just thought it's cute."
To Ino's surprise, Nanami's lips curled into a small smile. "It's fine, Ino-kun. I think it has become common knowledge by now. Yeah... he was."
"For you to have fallen for someone who was Gojo's acquaintance... it speaks volumes about how charming Y/N is."
"Mmm," he nodded slightly as he indulged in the grilled meat. "She is."
"Nanami-san." Okay, Ino was starting to think that he wouldn't be getting his point across if he went the roundabout way. He would shoot it straight then. "I don't mean to patronize you... but if you're really that miserable, then I think you should go back to her and talk things out, no?"
Nanami put down his chopsticks and let out a soft sigh, making Ino to immediately regret his blatant suggestion.
"Before arriving at such a difficult decision, of course we did try to discuss some things," he explained, his gaze meeting his calmly. "I don't take matters like divorce lightly, Ino-kun."
"But still... now—"
To drove the point home, Nanami chose to vocalize the conclusion that still left a bitter taste in his mouth to this day:
"She is unhappy with the way things are, and I have to come to terms with the fact that I can't provide what she needs."
Ino's gaze fell in dejection. "Nanami-san..."
Nanami chuckled fondly. “I appreciate your concern, Ino-kun. Thank you.”
In front of his junior, he could maintain composure and narrated the collapse of his own marriage as if he were a mere spectator. But in his heart of hearts, Nanami Kento wasn’t at all the stoic man he made everyone believed he was—the fact that he had failed to give you the life of happiness he promised on the day he proposed to you still stung him to this day.
It hurt him, but echoing your words, he couldn't subject you to a marriage that felt like a dull cohabitation with little understanding.
“We never really talk anymore, do we...? We never really work on our problems too. Kento, lately, I feel like... things have changed.”
Suppose what he had to do was letting you go now.
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It was easier said than done, because when Nanami saw you the next day at the school—this being the first time in several weeks—he almost couldn’t keep his cool.
"Ichiji, don't be too stiff!" you slapped the poor guy in the back with a giggle. "It's just me, it's been a while!"
You didn't look much different than the last he saw you—still the chirpy self he unwittingly fell in love with, staying on top of the latest fashion trends and all. Yet, there was definitely something different about you, something he just couldn't quite identify...
And then those cheerfulness deflated when your gaze met his, eyes widening as you tried to get your bearings. "Oh—h-hi, Kento."
That's too forced. It was so unnatural that made him almost wince.
"Hello." But the tremble in his voice, too, betrayed him. "Have you been well?"
You shifted your gaze away from him, and right before you answered, you let out a cough, and that was when he spotted it: you looked kind of pale.
"I'm fine."
"Oh, that's good then."
Silence. This was the absolute worst.
Nanami exhaled. It was you he was talking to, his ex-wife. He knew you inside out—or at least, he used to. He knew you didn't like this dryness as much as he did. He had to say something.
He braved himself. "Are you here for a mission?"
You looked at him in slight surprise. "Oh... yeah."
Darn it. Another dry reply.
"There... is a cursed totem in North Tokyo," you elaborated, not really looking at him. "Gojo's out from tomorrow until next week. I'm substituting for him to assist the first years."
"Are you sure you're up for that?" Nanami found himself asking before he could stop. "I mean no disrespect, but you look a bit pale."
"I am," you snapped, leaving him surprised. It was as though he had unintentionally struck a nerve, quickly turning your mood sour. "I'm fully capable of handling this, Kento."
"Please, I don't mean to upset you. I'm just..."
Worried about you. Somehow his throat closed in, it didn't really feel right to say that now.
"—I know how rash you can be." He regretted his words as soon as they were out.
It was clearly a bad choice of words as you took offense, your expression quickly turned into one of disdain.
"How rich... that it's coming from you," you scowled.
Memories of your failed marriage flooded your mind's eye. The long nights your ex-husband didn't bother to leave you a message. How he would return home with wounds and blood staining his clothes. And now... he had the nerve to insinuate that you were the reckless one?
"I can take care of myse—"
"That's a whole load of bullshit!"
Good grief. Why must Gojo pick this exact scene to show up?
The blindfold took big strides and halted between the two of you, pointing one finger in your face.
“Last night, she got wasted. Like totally wasted! She could barely walk straight afterwards and then she had the audacity to blame me! Me! For all her mess! Goodness, I’m just a very chivalrous friend and yet—”
"Shut up!" you were horrified, face flushed with embarrassment. "Gojo, you complete jerk!"
Nanami wouldn't admit it, but there was always something between you and Gojo Satoru that made him a bit uncomfortable, even way back when the two of you were still married. Perhaps the closeness, the candidness you shared. He knew you wouldn't harbor anything for someone as elusive as Gojo Satoru, but still, it remained an uncomfortable sight for him.
Like there was nothing pleasant about knowing Gojo Satoru was the one taking care of you in your drunken stupor. You shouldn't have in the first place. If it were him, he wouldn't let you hurt yourself. If he were still the one by your side—
Despite himself, thoughts like that swirled in his mind far often than he would've liked.
Suddenly, the air felt stifling. Nanami didn't like this at all, and even as you two were still harmlessly bickering, he chose to leave.
"Oiii, Nanami!"
He had barely left the room when the person he disliked the most emerged from the door, following closely behind him. Gojo evidently knew what his thoughts were. As irritating as he was, the bloke was smart, he wasn't the strongest for nothing.
"Na-na-mi! You can't just leave like that! We're going to have lunch together—"
"Gojo-san," Nanami stopped in his tracks and let out an exasperated sigh, throwing the white-haired idiot a glare so hard it would curse him if only glares could. "Please stop bothering me."
“How cold-hearted,” the blindfold replied in a mocking scoff. “No matter how, she was once your wife. How could you not care one bit?”
“We have gone on our separate ways, and if she is good with the way things are, then so am I.”
What a lie. He still couldn't help but to care. If you ever needed his help in whatever way even now, he would still move heavens for you.
“And that’s where you’re wrong, Nanami,” Gojo suddenly interjected in a less playful manner. “She is really missing you, you know.”
But you had your best friend by your side, didn't you? Someone perfect, without equal. Surely, you wouldn't need him anymore.
Gojo raised an eyebrow. "How are you so sure that she's good with the way things are?"
"What exactly is she not good with?"
"Everything? You never ask her."
This was getting irritating, and before Nanami really lost control over himself, he finally drew a line.
"Gojo-san, I'm tired of people assuming things about our current relationship," he said, leveling a piercing look at him. "We are both adults. We reached the decision to separate because we both know why. If this is your way of showing concern, then thank you—but I'd prefer if you didn't interfere any further. We're handling this just fine, and by all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore."
With that, he left. Even when he wanted to stay longer with you, even when, in his wildest dreams, he wanted to rebuild everything with you again—
He knew you were there, hearing all of this.
Gojo clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. "Grr... You're so stubborn..."
. . .
There was a reason why you went to the school. Yaga's sudden request and of course, the chance to see Nanami again.
But when your conversation ended in a bitter note and he walked away, a part of you plunged into instant panic, compelling you to eavesdrop on his conversation with Gojo.
But as expected from you cool ex-husband, he was all rationale and logic.
By all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore.
Nanami would think so, wouldn't he? And he wouldn't be bothered either.
You shouldn't have expected more. This was no television drama in which the couple would get back together that easily. You were living in the harsh reality of jujutsu world, which basically, was the cause of your divorce in the first place.
At one point, you found it all to be exhausting, but upon reflection, it was more painful to acknowledge that he never truly fought to keep you by his side.
Tears welled up in your eyes unbidden, and you walked away quickly, brushing them away.
This is it. There is no use hoping anymore.
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If you weren't on missions, then you'd likely be drinking. This had been the undeniable truth over the past few weeks.
Gojo found both you and Nanami to be irritating. The way both of you would evade each other was just plain stupid by this point, since it was clear to anyone with eyes that you were still not over each other.
"Nanami! Why don't you join us for dinner tonight!"
And since you were such an irritable drunk, he chose to keep poking the easier target.
Nanami shot him a scathing look, definitely done. "I have a prior appointment. Goodbye."
"Hoh?! But! They'll have free drinks!"
For the life of him, Nanami just wanted to go back home. He had minus interest in free drinks and even less in Gojo himself, and he would make his points clear.
"For the last time, I'm telling you, I don't want any part in your—"
Ring! Ring! Ring!
"Ooh, wait a minute, Nanamin! I got a call!"
Nanami gritted his teeth in pure annoyance. He truly didn't care about his call and seized the chance to walk away quickly, eager to flee.
Until—
"Hello? Yes. Yes... what? Huh— Y/N is rushed to hospital?"
...and that caused him to halt abruptly. Suddenly, his entire body went rigid, as if he had been doused with a bucket of cold water.
You're hurt?
"I mean why—the hell? Severe bleeding?!" Gojo's voice dramatically rose, seemingly in surprise. "Whoa, uh, traffic accident?!"
Within seconds, everything as he knew it came to an end. He spun around, yanking the phone from Gojo's grasp, indifferent to whether it caught the latter off guard or not.
"Which hospital is this?" he demanded from the person on the other end, his voice rough and harsh. Suddenly, the fog in his mind dissipated, and he was consumed by panic.
"I'm sorry, sir, that's not—oh, it's Tokyo General Hospital—"
"Thank you." Nanami shoved the phone back to Gojo and broke into a sprint, in search of taxi.
At this moment, everything was a plethora of chaos—his surroundings melded into a blur, the constant honking of nearby vehicles echoed in his ears, and the relentless pounding in his chest threatened to overwhelm him. Nothing else held any significance. Nothing, except you.
Why did you get hurt? How did you even get into a traffic accident?
This was maddening. His world was falling apart hard and fast. The beginnings of heartbreak, stirring and churning in the depths of his stomach, once again threatened to drown him whole—
To others it may seem laughable that he was this shaken over an ex-wife, but precisely because you were his ex-wife was why he was running through the streets of Shibuya, opting not to take the cab as the traffic jam was at its peak.
Oh, how Nanami regretted it. He regretted a multitude of things; those long nights, silent treatments, your tears, divorcing you. If he could turn back the time, he'd do anything in his power to prevent that divorce from ever happening. He'd treasure you better, he'd make time for you more—
Because what if, now you were really slipping away from him for good? What if, he would never see you ever again?
Within minutes, he arrived at the said hospital, haggard, spooking the nurses, demanding your room number.
Thank heavens that the visiting hour wasn't over yet. He marched towards the said room, all of his logic and rationale flying out of window as he threw open the door.
And then he saw the pristine bed, IV drip, and you—
Sitting upright on the bed, turning a page of a magazine, your eyes widening and blinking at him in complete confusion—
Huh, what?
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The last thing you would expect after waking up in the hospital was your ex-husband barging in unannounced, looking as though he'd just survived a whirlwind.
"Kento...?" you almost squeaked, taken aback at the sight.
His hair was a sweaty mess, his usually immaculate suit was crinkled and his tie was loosened, but it was the look in his eyes that grabbed your attention—as if expecting the worst.
“Are you alright?” he grounded out, approaching you in deliberately slow steps. “How long has it since you woke up?”
“Um... yes? Since about an hour or so.” You frowned. “Kento, what are you doing here?”
“They said you have severe bleeding, involved in an accident—”
“What! No! Did the hospital reach out to you?” you felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought. “I was sure I have removed you from my emergency contacts—”
“Gojo did—”
Suddenly, understanding dawned on him, and he cursed under his breath. “That rotten bastard!”
You blinked, unsure of what he meant at all. To his credit, Nanami didn’t dwell long on his thoughts and faced you once again with another fresh batch of confusion. “Wait, Gojo is your emergency contact? Why?”
“Should anything happen to me and a payment is required to settle it, he can handle the bills first?”
If Nanami didn’t look exasperated before then he sure did now. “Y/N… you…”
He released the deepest sigh imaginable before settling onto the sofa, further tousling his hair and removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.
“Did you know I ran to get here because I thought something bad happened to you?” Nanami stated in a strained voice.
Why did your heart skip a beat? Why was Nanami suddenly playing the part of a concerned husband when the time for it has long passed?
Feeling suddenly irritated, you rolled your eyes. “I just passed out due to high blood pressure. It’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal?” his eyes squared on you, quiet anger behind them. “In what sense does you passing out ever ‘not a big deal’? What have you been doing?”
"Why does that even matter to you still?" you contested. "You were the one who said everyone should stop linking us together by now."
"Y/N, you're missing the—"
"You divorced me!" you screamed, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as the urge to cry threatened to consume you. "You... h-have divorced me, Nanami Kento!"
Nanami felt as if a blade had pierced and twisted his chest at the sight of you—your quivering form, the stifled sobs. He had never wished to see you in such despair again.
"So why!" you finally broke down and sobbed. "Why did you play the caring husband now? Why not before? Why do you keep toying with my feelings...?"
"I'm not." Nanami grunted, getting up and approaching your bed. "I never meant to. That was never my intention. I never—"
"Then what!? What are you doing? Why did you throw me out just like that and why now—"
"Believe me when I said that I never want you to be miserable!"
You halted mid-rant, eyes wide as you gazed at him. Blinking, you felt a tear roll down your cheek. It was the first time Nanami had ever raised his voice at you. Even in the past, he never had.
But suddenly, a sharp pain pierced through your abdomen, causing you to instinctively clutch it. You whimpered, a nearly involuntary squeak escaping you, feeling the intense burn inside.
Nanami immediately got a hold of your hunched form, alarmed. "What is it? What hurts?" When all you could manage were pained sniffles in response, he swiftly hit the nurses' button and enveloped you in his embrace.
"Hold on," he comforted, placing a hand over where you clutched your abdomen, trying to offer some relief in any way. "They'll be here soon, don't pass out!"
"Mmngh," you gripped his hand in response, squeezing it as you slumped into his chest. For the first time in six months, you were enveloped in his warmth once again, and despite everything that had transpired, you were deeply moved by his gesture.
It took seeing you in such distress to dispel any doubts Nanami may have had. You were so petite against him, so delicate as you squirmed amidst your tears.
Had you experienced pain like this in the past six months? The thought made his heart lurch. Did no one comfort you at all?
. . .
And that was when he decided it.
He never, ever wants to see you in any sort of pain, ever again. And should it happen, then he'll be the one staying by your side, just like this.
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Alcoholic gastritis. You consumed so much alcohol that it irritated your ulcer and causes a really painful tummy ache.
You could feel Nanami's judging gaze on you as your attending doctor explained your predicament. Truth to be told, you were quite ashamed. Your unhealthy lifestyle were laid bare before your ex-husband and it made you feel like a kid being scolded for misbehaving.
After the doctor left, Nanami sighed and pulled out a chair next to your bed. "Are you feeling better now?"
"Yeah..." you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "Sorry, that... you have to see that."
But thankfully, he was unflappable as ever. "Nothing to be sorry about. It's fine."
You were kind of embarrassed of your outburst earlier too. While you didn't regret expressing your feelings, you pondered if could've done it in a less confrontational way.
At this point, you'd accept anything. Even if Nanami told you off after this—
"Let me continue from what I was saying earlier," he suddenly began, catching your attention. You perked up, and looked at him expectantly.
Nanami released a deep sigh, and the words he spoke next were ones you never thought you'd hear from him again.
"Did you remember what I said when I proposed our divorce?" he asked, somewhat rhetorically. You wordlessly nodded, because it was one of the lines that made you unable to hate him completely.
"I said, you don't deserve to be unhappy." Nanami looked you right in the eyes, undaunted. "And that still stands until now."
Now fully engrossed in his words, the rhythm of your heart intensified, echoing in your chest.
"It wasn't a decision I blurted out lightly. I know you're hurt, because I am too. I married you with a reason. I have loved you. and if you were to ask me now, my answer would be the same—I am still in love with you."
Why did it feel like your vision was beginning to blur once more?
"But," Nanami's face contorted into a frown, gazing hard at you. "If staying with me is what makes you miserable—if waiting nights after nights, hoping I can make it each time haunts you so much—then I'm more than willing to release you from that burden. I don't want to subject you to that life."
Warm tears slid down your cheeks. Sniffling, you averted your gaze, looking downwards.
"Look, I make you cry again," he sighed, a mix of fondness and sadness in his voice, as a bitter smile graced his lips. One of his thumbs gently lifted your jaw, while the other tenderly wiped away your tears.
"Kento, I—" you quickly looked up, swallowing the lump in your throat. You had made up your mind. "I don't want you to leav—"
"I know," he cut in, his voice solemn, as he stroked your tear-streaked cheeks. "I know, and that's exactly why I'm going to say what I'm about to say next."
And with his next words, your heart burst into complete, utter warmth—
"Let's start over." Nanami Kento's voice was your lifeline, anchoring you and keeping you afloat. "We can take our time. There's no rush—we can return to how things were in the beginning. And when you're ready, then and only then... will I ask you to marry me again."
The one person who has your heart in his grasp, someone whom you are willing to care way more than yourself... You were openly sobbing now and yet a radiant smile broke through your tears.
There was only one answer you had in mind.
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Five years later
"Yes! Yes! Yay!"
Today was sunny, just like the day of your wedding. Memories flooded back as you glanced at the grand wedding portrait in the foyer, a snapshot of yourself and your husband in blissful celebration.
A smile tugged at your lips as you stared at the gentle smile on Kento's face amidst his typically stiff posture. You remembered his vows to you.
The one person who I will look for the rest of my life... is you. I have never met someone so important and precious to me that it hurts.
The sound of a car pulling up snapped you out of your reverie. Oh, he's home.
As you opened the door, your smile grew even broader, until a small figure darted past you at such speed that you were left gawking.
"Daddy!" your daughter's voice rang out with pure delight, leaping into your husband's arms the moment he swung the car door open, catching him off guard.
"Oh my, why are you so sweaty?" Kento inquired, scrutinizing your daughter with a puzzled frown, yet holding her close. "I thought we're going to the playground after this?"
"She's so excited for it that she keeps running and jumping around all the while," you chimed in with a gentle sigh, affectionately ruffling your daughter's hair as she beamed up at both of you.
Before long, the three of you set off to the playground, fulfilling the promise you had made to your daughter. As she entertained herself with the slides, Kento's low chuckle drew your attention. "What's so funny?"
"She takes after you a lot, you know," he remarked, a fond smile on his face. "The way she is just full of energy."
"Really? But sometimes she'll get this wrinkly little scowl on her face when she's annoyed—she looks like you then."
"Wrinkly...? No, surely I don't have that many wrinkles yet..."
Your laughter filled the air, a testament to the joy found in these simple, everyday moments.
Unexpected moments of joy, the comfort of family, and a love that had grown and evolved, stronger and more resilient with time...
And this, is what you'd call a happy marriage.
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strang3lov3 · 5 months
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Fighting Fair
Joel doesn’t know what or who started this fucking thing, but he’s finishing it. Tonight.
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Tags: impish activities, soft dom!joel sorta aggressive joel, forced proximity, cock grinding, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie (always), teasing, dirty talk, almost somnophilia (they’re sleep-teasing each other unconsciously) sexually frustrated morons, good ol' fashioned "we have to get naked and share body heat to stay warm" trope
A/N: I had to drag myself kicking and screaming into writing this fic that put me through the fucking ringer!!! Thank you @theywhowriteandknowthings @merz-8 and @beefrobeefcal for the general fic help and encouragement! And I think also @noxturnalpascal and @tightjeansjavi and ESPECIALLY @notjustjavierpena who talked me through this fic a couple weeks ago and gave me the push I needed to finish it when I was stuck. You guys all rock ❤️
It’s too cold tonight, even indoors and with a fire burning. He moved the large sectional couch as close as he could safely get it by the fireplace, gave you his jacket, and you’re still hoarding the blanket. Joel tries to gently tug on the blanket that you’ve wrapped around your body, see if maybe you can spare to lose a few inches of fabric. You don’t budge. Joel sighs, “Y’can share, ya know.”
“This is sharing.”
“It’s not, actually. I’m the one sharin’ here. I gave you my coat, you can quit hoggin’ all the blanket,” Joel tugs harder on the blanket, it’s old and kind of scratchy, worn out by the years. “C’mon. Let up.” 
“You can have this much,” You mumble, giving Joel a small amount of the fabric. 
“How generous of you,” Joel mutters sarcastically before pulling the blanket entirely off of your shoulders. “Thank you. S’very kind.”
“Hey,” you whine. 
“Yeah, I know,” he says. He covers his body in the blanket, making sure to cover your legs and feet as well. His hands brush over your own and he winces at their ice cold temperature. “Jesus, girl. Gimme these,” he mumbles, taking your hands into his own and holding them tightly. “Hands feel like icicles.”
“This fucking sucks, Joel,” you complain. 
“It does,” he agrees. Joel’s been dreading this point in the year. He’s eased up on his ‘no fires’ rule for the most part, but fire doesn’t help when it’s as cold as it has been. Tonight, he’s grateful you spotted this old house from afar, even more grateful it has a fireplace. But it’s especially cold tonight, maybe even nearing below zero temperatures. Even with a glowing fire and a shelter preventing the chill of the wind piercing you to the bone, he’s not sure that’s enough to keep you both warm. Joel shivers, “This shit’s not workin’.”
You shake your head no. It’s not. 
Joel’s not quite sure how to offer up his idea. It’ll be fine, or at least, it should be fine. What needs to happen is you and Joel need to get cozy and share body heat, the real way, with both of your bodies completely bare and pressed against each other.
Most of the time, you and Joel fall asleep separately. Occasionally, however, Joel will wake up in the early hours of the morning with your body inexplicably tangled in his, your head laying on his chest. The first time it happened, Joel was annoyed. “Get off of me,” he grumbled. “Not your fuckin’ teddy bear,” You whined in response, and when Joel tried to move you from him you clung to his body tighter. “Jesus,” he mumbled to himself. 
After about the fifth or sixth time of waking up with you clinging to his body, he stopped trying to fight it. In fact, he even started to hold you closer, stroke your hair. Sometimes he’d wake up holding you, other times he’d wake up with your arms wrapped around him and your tummy pressed against his back. It was nice, mostly. 
Mostly. You have the most uncanny ability to tease Joel in your sleep. Your hand will mysteriously travel from his side up to his chest, your thumb rubbing over his nipple. Other times, it’s your leg that brushes against his crotch. Or your ass, wiggling against his morning wood. After you wake, he’ll leave you alone for a few moments to quietly take care of himself, stroking his member to the thought of your naked body, your soft curves and smooth skin. Sometimes he’s not able to sneak away in the mornings and he’ll be hard as a rock and miserable the entire day. It’s unbearably frustrating. He’s never brought this tendency of yours up to you and he never will, because you’re not doing anything intentionally, at least he thinks. Though, there was one time after a particularly excruciating night of teasing, he thought he saw you smirk as he left to take care of himself. It was probably nothing. 
That’s what he’s worried about. Your body, naked against his, teasing him. His arousal won’t be so easy to hide without the protection of clothing, not to mention he may not even be able to fall asleep. It’s not gonna be an easy night, but it’s the only option at this point. 
Joel clears his throat, “We’re gonna try somethin’ different tonight,” he starts, “An’ we’re not gonna talk about it. Ever.”
“Okay,” you say, unsure of where he’s going with this. 
“You trust me?” he asks. You nod. “Good,” he says, “We’re gonna share our body heat. An’ it works better with skin to skin contact, which means we’re both gonna get naked and close under the blanket, but we’re not gonna talk about it. Not tonight, not ever. Can you do this?”
“I can,” you tell him. You’re not totally surprised by Joel’s idea, but you’re glad he was the one who brought it up. Truthfully, it’s been something you’ve been thinking of doing with him for quite some time now, since the weather’s been getting so cold. You’ve pictured it, rubbing your bare feet against his legs for some warmth. He’ll probably kick you away, complain that he’s cold too. You’ll tell him too bad. 
“Okay,” he mumbles awkwardly, “Okay, s’good. I’m gonna turn around and get to it then, f’ya wanna…” 
“Yeah, got it.”
You and Joel separate, he places the blanket at his end of the couch as he begins to unbutton his flannel. You remove his coat from your body then shimmy off your pants, leaving them crumpled on the floor. You catch a glimpse of Joel’s back, the firelight dancing on his toned and broad muscles, the scars and stretch marks decorating his skin like art. Quickly, you avert your eyes and begin to remove your shirt. You don’t notice Joel stealing a peek at your body, the blush creeping up his cheeks when he sees your bare breasts. 
“Ready?”
“Mhm,” you mumble, but you’re anxious. You’re not sure how it happens, but you’ve been waking up with Joel here and there. Sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night with his limbs inexplicably wrapped around you, his chin resting on your head. The first time it happened, you were confused. You tried to shrug him off of you, but Joel only held you tighter, sleepily mumbling in an annoyed tone. 
After about the fourth or fifth time of waking up with him holding your body, you stopped trying to fight it. In fact, you’d back yourself into him, even scratch his forearms to relax him. There’d be times you’d wake up being spooned by him, other times you’d wake up spooning him, with your arms wrapped around him and your tummy pressed against his back. It’s nice, mostly. 
Mostly. Joel has this inexplicable habit of teasing you in his sleep. His hand will mysteriously travel from your side up to your breasts, his thumb catching on your nipples and rubbing them softly. Other times, he presses his cock against your ass, nudging you and gently grinding against your ass. When you wake, you find somewhere quiet to touch yourself, rubbing your clit to the thought of his body, his warm eyes, the groaning noises he’ll make when he stretches in the morning. Sometimes in the mornings, you can’t sneak away and you’ll be soaked all day, miserable as your core pulses and aches for him. It’s god awful, unbearably frustrating. But you’ve never brought this tendency of his up to him and you never will, because he’s not doing anything intentionally, at least you think. Though, there was one time after a particularly excruciating night of him teasing your nipples, you felt him touch you a little more intensely, like there could have been conscious thought behind the action. It was probably nothing. 
This is what you’re worried about. His body, naked against yours, teasing you. It’s gonna be a difficult night, but you know it’s the only option.
Joel reaches for the blanket, spreads it out as he inches back towards you on the couch. “You can lay on your side like that, facin’ the fire,” he offers, and you follow his suggestion. Joel slots himself behind you and tucks the blanket around both of your bodies, then pulls you closer to his body. “Yeah, good girl. You got it. M’gonna hold you tight like this,” he tells you. 
Good girl. His words send desire flooding your veins. Sweet talking in your ear, his hands holding you close and tight. God, this is trouble. 
“Just need to scoot a little closer, like–” you back your ass into his crotch, “M’just so cold, Joel.”
Fuck. Joel can feel his growing arousal pressing against your ass. “I know you are, hon, just–don’t move like that on me,” He keeps you as close as he can against your body, pressing the length of his arm against your torso to keep you warm. His hand brushes against your breasts, thumb caressing your nipple. You gasp. 
“Need you closer, though,” you mumble, wiggling against his crotch once more. His length hardens fully, prodding against your ass. His breath hitches, “Ignore it,” he grumbles, now annoyed. How many hints does he have to drop? Or are you doing this shit on purpose?
You’re annoyed too, honestly. He’s not directly groping you, but his fingertips have not left your nipples, lightly grazing over them and setting your skin on fire. Do you need to spell it out for him, what he’s doing to you? Surely it’s intentional on his end. Has to be.  
There’s a moment where you’re quiet and so is Joel, both of you tired and confused and sexually frustrated with the other. Maybe you’re looking for a fight, but something’s gotta give. Fuck it, you’ll be the one to instigate. “Ignore what, Joel?” you ask, voice incredulous and laced with sarcasm. 
“I’m–my–fuck,” Joel stammers. He feels your body move with your stifled giggles. “Knock it off.”
“It’s all for me, isn’t it Joel?”
“Dammit, just–shut up,” Joel stiffens as he feels his face and neck begin to warm. “And mind your business. S’not for you. S’not for anyone,” he lies, cringing internally for his defensiveness, definitely overcompensating. He rolls his eyes, knowing he was right. Five minutes into sharing body heat with you and it is not going well at all. You twist your hips once more. “I said ignore it,” he grumbles, his hand finding your hip and holding it firmly in place. “Not rub your ass on it. Now sit still. You’re testin’ my patience.”
“I can’t help it, Joel. I’m just trying to get comfortable,” you lie. 
“Yeah, whatever. You’re gettin’ me in trouble is what you’re doing. Now for the love of god, quit it.”
Ten minutes go by without an incident, and Joel is focusing on trying to sleep with your naked body pressed against his. He’s certainly beginning to warm up but at what cost? He’s breathing in your scent, feeling your warm skin under his hand, which is hard enough to deal with. And then you fucking do it again, because his fingers are still lightly touching your sensitive nipples. “What did I just say?” Joel flips you on your other side so you’re facing him, then holds your jaw between his fingers. “Look at me,” he tells you. “Knock it off. Quit your squirmin’, quit wigglin’ your ass on my–” You can’t hide the grin that forms on your lips at his accusation. You purse your lips in an attempt to hide the amusement you’ve garnered from your payback, but Joel sees it. “Why’re you fuckin’ with me?”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. You know exactly what you’re doin’. Why are you fuckin’ with me?” 
You shrug, “You started it.”
“I never fuckin’ know what you’re talkin’ about,” Joel complains through a deep sigh, exasperated.
“The teasing,” you explain, “You snuggle me and end up teasing me, playing with my tits and whatnot. You know what you do,” you accuse, “So I’m getting you back. Fair’s fair.”
“So you get worked up and you retaliate by givin’ me a hard on. Charming,” Joel grumbles, “And you’re one to talk about wanderin’ hands. Do you know how many times I’ve woken up with your hands in places they shouldn’t have been? Shouldn’t even be fuckin’ sleepin’ together.”
“You never complained about it before,” you retort, referring to the accidental snuggles that take place between Joel and yourself. 
Joel wears a confused expression for a moment, then glares at you. He narrows his eyes at you, completely misunderstanding what you meant. In his head, he’s thinking that you’ve just admitted all of that accidental teasing–it has been fucking intentional on your part. He knew it! “Before? You’re tellin’ me this is a hobby of yours?” he spits, “I knew you had ulterior motives with that late night cuddlin’ of yours. You’ve been gettin’ me hot an’ bothered on purpose, haven’t you?”
You sigh, “No, I’m talking about—” and then you realize, if Joel thinks you’ve been intentionally getting him worked up all this time, he’s been doing the same shit to you to retaliate. “Only because you did it to me first,” you accuse. 
Joel scoffs. “I don’t believe this,” he scoffs, “I don’t care who started it, I’m finishin’ it right now.”
Your heart pounds as desire pools in your gut, a warm, sticky feeling. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talkin about,” Joel whispers in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin. “I’m gettin’ you out of my system once and for all. You’re fuckin’ ridiculous. We’re done with this.”
Joel shifts his arm, reaching for his cock. You watch as he wraps his palm around his member, thumb swiping over his red and swollen tip. His soft belly bulges against his arm that’s pressed tightly against himself as he strokes his member slowly, patiently. When you reach for his cock to replace his hand with your own, you’re in disbelief as he swats your hand away. “Joel,” you whine, confused.
“Was never really teasin’ ya, by the way. Think you’re a little selective in that way. Seein’ and hearin’ what you want to.” Joel accuses in a gentle tone as he continues to massage himself, “And even if I was, you don’t fight fair.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, sweetheart, all that shit you do to me, I’m gonna do right back to you,” Joel reaches for your leg, grabs the back of your knee and hikes your leg over his hip, pulling you closer and exposing your pussy to him. “Not going to go easy on you sweetheart, you sure you want this?” he asks, giving you an out. But you nod anyway, your tummy fluttering with desire as your mind begins to race, wondering exactly how he’ll retaliate after being pent up like this for so long. “Good,” he says. 
Holding his cock in his hand, he guides the tip to your center, collecting the slick pooling at your entrance and taps the thick head against your clit. He pulls you closer and begins to drag himself through your folds. “Joel,” you gasp, “What are you doing?”
“Tryin’ out your modus operandi,” he breathes. “Isn’t this whatcha were just doin’? Rubbin’ up on me?”
“I wasn’t–mmmm,” you hum as he continues to rub the head of his cock against you, “Wasn’t like this.”
“You’re full of shit,” Joel groans as goes up and down, up and down, notching his tip ever so quickly inside of you to gather your increasing arousal and dragging it through your folds, paying special attention to your clit. You’re pulsing, clenching around nothing as he teases you agonizingly. “You’re makin’ a fuckin’ mess. S’all for me, isn’t it?” he taunts you, using your words from earlier. “God, you don’t take much at all. Soakin’ me, sweetheart.”
He notches his tip inside you to collect your wetness once more and you cry out, “Just fuck me.”
“You’re not gettin’ it,” he breathes, “Told ya, you’re gettin’ your comeuppance.”
You feel like you’re gonna burst. He rubs the head of his cock over your clit in circles, listening to your whines of displeasure when he pulls away from you to focus on his own pleasure. When presses himself against you again, he focuses his tip only at your clit, your slick helping him to slide up and down with ease. When he begins to roll his hips for added pressure, you bite into his shoulder to contain your cries. This is agonizing and so fucking delicious all at the same time. 
You adjust your hips, simultaneously reaching for Joel’s cock to guide him to your entrance. You need him now. “C’mon, now. You mind your manners,” he chides you, “S’not any way to get what ya want.”
“Please, just fuck–need you inside me.” 
“Sure thing,” he says in a honeyed tone. He replaces his cock with his fingers, leisurely dragging them through your slick folds before dipping first one, then two fingers inside you. He finds that delicious spot inside you, but curls his fingers lazily, not yet providing you with what you need. You’re throbbing, aching, hungry for more. 
“Joel, not–”
“Shoulda been more specific, then,” he interrupts. Bastard. When you try to argue, Joel flips you on your back and guides his cock to your entrance, notching his tip in you again, this time not leaving. You whine eagerly, wrapping your legs around him and pressing your feet into his ass, trying to pull him closer. You need him inside you, now.
“Not all at once,” Joel purrs as he enters you at a glacial pace. He pushes inside you gradually, letting you feel every inch of him, stopping momentarily to adjust the blanket over his shoulders to keep both of your bodies enveloped in warmth. Joel bottoms out inside of you and pulls back out, then enters you again, so fucking slowly. You’re not sure how he manages to tease you while fucking you, but he’s doing it. You just need more, need it faster, harder, more. You reach for your clit, but Joel pins both of your hands under one of his own as he fucks into you. Tears of frustration begin to build in your eyes. “You can cry all you want, sweetheart,” he coos, “You made your bed. We’re not done with this yet,” he continues, “But, maybe if ya sweet talk me, apologize for startin’ somethin’ you couldn’t finish…”
“M’sorry, Joel,” you apologize quickly. All your fire, your mischief, Joel’s now extinguished like a flame.
“I knew you’d be sorry,” Joel murmurs. Knowing how badly you need to release, Joel snakes his other hand between your thighs and circles your sensitive clit with his thumb ever so lightly. Torturing you, taunting you with what you could have and never giving you more. 
He’s fucking you at a steady pace now, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot. It’s not enough. The wet, gushing sounds of your cunt and the way Joel’s skin feels against yours has you feeling dizzy. Joel’s savoring the way you’re squirming under him, straining your wrists against his locked grip. He knows you’re aching for release, but he’s determined to teach you a lesson, even if that means torturing himself. 
Yes, as pleasurable as this is for Joel to watch you fuck around and find out, it’s misery for him too. Fucking his fist with the tip of his cock kissing your pussy was no easy task, and neither is holding back from how he truly wants to fuck you. Because, truthfully, he wants to fucking ruin you. Show you just what he thinks of these stunts you’ve been pulling. Show you just what he thinks of your wandering hands and your innocent ‘adjustments’.
“Please,” you gasp, “Just make me come, Joel.”
“Yeah, I don’t know. M’not feelin’ particularly generous at the moment.”
“Please,” you whine, “Been needing y–this for so long.” 
“Ahhh,” Joel hums, “And the truth comes out,” he groans as he rolls his hips against you, “S’that what all of this is about? Been needin’ me?” you nod quickly, “Tell me how long you’ve been needing me.”
“Fuck, Joel, I don’t know. Forever,” you cry, “I need to come now, please. Need to come on your cock, fuck.”
“F’ya said somethin’ earlier instead of toyin’ with me like you’ve been doin’, we wouldn’t be in this mess, sweetheart.”
You don’t know how much more you can take. Tears of frustration trail down your cheeks, each of his thrusts hitting deep and massaging your insides, intentionally, powerfully. 
Joel’s right there with you, struggling as well. He wants nothing more than to keep fucking you without allowing you to finish, having never seen anything before so erotic and beautiful as your squirming, writhing body. Your soft body, those sweet noises, that frustrated face of yours. And it’s all at his hands, he’s the one  responsible for turning into this mess. 
“Fuck,” he whispers through a shuddering breath, “Not gonna–”
“Joel,” you cry, the only word you know anymore being his name.
“Let’s be done with this,” he decides, fucking finally. He circles your clit steadily now, finding a pace and a pressure that has you letting out breathy gasps and moans as your orgasm approaches. “Want you to come for me,” he says.
His words are all you need. That warm, sticky feeling in the pit of your stomach builds quickly and releases almost instantaneously, sending pleasure erupting through your veins. You feel it everywhere, the back of your thighs, deep in your gut. Wave after wave of pleasure rocks your body as Joel’s thrusts quicken as he fucks you at a now frenzied, sloppy pace he chases his own release. 
“Fuck,” he hisses, coming with a deep, stuttering moan of your name. His muscles jerk and tremble as his cock pulses inside you, painting your insides with thick ropes of his spend. He pulls out of you groaning, his hot, slick release making your thighs sticky. He places a gentle kiss to your lips and then to your forehead, the action a stark contrast to his previous demeanor. All's right with the world now. Sexual frustration solved.
He takes his place behind you again, pulling you close to his chest for the last time and making sure the blanket is covering you both. You’re certainly warmed up now. A little too warm, even. But you’re not complaining. 
“Still not talkin’ about tonight,” Joel reminds you, “Ever.”
“Nope,” you agree.
Another quiet moment passes. For shits and giggles, you rub your ass against his crotch. “But I take it we’ll be doin’ this again, won’t we?” he says, defeated as you continue to tease him.
“Definitely.”
“Good god,” Joel sighs, “Get back over here, then. You drive me fuckin’ nuts,” he adds, pulling you back for round two. He was right, it’s a long night ahead of him.
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punkshort · 26 days
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i know who you are | 9. the end
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Joel leaves overnight for a scouting mission. When he returns, you finally confess your feelings for him.
Chapter Warnings: language, amnesia, slow burn, dry humping, some dead bodies 'n stuff, fluff, feelings, smut (18+ MDNI), piv unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), soft!joel, guns?
WC: 9.1K
Series Masterlist
A/N: Two things. One: I don't have the slightest clue how memory loss works and if what I am about to detail in this chapter is even plausible but if television has taught me anything, nothing is impossible only extremely rare. Two: this is the final chapter and it makes me very sad. I wish I could have thought of more storylines to drag this out but at the end of the day, I feel good about how it all came together and I can't thank quite literally hundreds of you enough for reading this each week. It's kind of insane. So, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! Also, if anyone wants to toss some one-shot/sequel ideas my way, I am all ears. Much love.
Two Weeks Later
"Joel," you whispered, your head tilted back into the couch cushion while his mouth greedily nipped and sucked at your neck. His hips were grinding lightly against your center and you knew if you didn't stop soon, you would be in trouble. "I think we should slow down."
"Mhmm," he mumbled in agreement, reluctantly pulling his hand from underneath your shirt.
"You're lucky it's still cold enough for me to wear a scarf," you murmured into his hair. He sighed against your neck, finally dragging his mouth away and sat up on the couch while yet another movie went unwatched on the TV.
"Can't seem to get enough of you," he said with a grin, his arm stretching over the back of the sofa. You rolled your eyes dramatically but smiled, pushing yourself up and fixing your shirt before looking at the TV. "Brad Pitt's in this?"
Joel tossed his head back and laughed heartily. "Think he's the main character," he told you, and you scowled at him but he could tell you weren't actually angry.
"Well maybe if you didn't distract me every time we try to watch a damn movie, I would know that."
The past two weeks had been downright perfect. Joel couldn't be any happier. Now that things had changed between you, he craved your touch constantly. Part of him wondered if it was his way of trying to make up for lost time because you weren't wrong: he couldn't keep his hands off you. He had no desire to leave the house or see anybody. All he wanted was to stay holed up with you doing absolutely everything and nothing. He shuddered to think how crazy he would become when you were finally ready to take things further. Tommy will have to drag him by the collar from your bed for his patrol shifts.
"What are you thinking about?" you asked him, leaning into his side and tucking your legs underneath you, only half listening to the movie.
"Patrol," he answered while the tips of his ears burned red from embarrassment, like you caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. He was perfectly fine waiting as long as it took until you were ready, but it didn't stop him from fantasizing about it. And the fact that he already knew what you felt like, what you sounded like, what made you come undone, worked him up even more.
"How are you feeling about getting back out there?" you asked, tipping your head up to look at him. He didn't seem worried but it was hard to tell sometimes.
"Actually, there was somethin' I wanted to talk to you 'bout," he admitted. "And if you don't want me to do it, I won't. I put you through enough shit as it is-"
"Spit it out, Miller," you said, shifting out from under his arm.
"Now that the snow's melted, I wanna take a couple guys and scout the area for any trace of those raiders," he began, watching your face closely. "I won't go far, but..."
"But?" you pressed, raising an eyebrow.
"But I would be gone overnight. Just one night," he assured you quickly when he saw your face.
"Wouldn't the others have already noticed anything out of the ordinary on patrol?" you asked as anxiety began to squeeze your throat. "I don't understand why you need to go out there."
"'Cause I only trust myself to make sure we're safe," he explained. "If somethin' happened to anyone 'cause I led these assholes to our doorstep, I'd never forgive myself. D'you understand?"
You chewed on your lip and glanced down at your lap as you weighed your options. On one hand, you understood where he was coming from. And if no one else on patrol or guard had yet to see or find anything strange, then Joel would most likely not find anything, either. But on the other hand, just simply leaving Jackson was a risk. And even if Joel didn't find any other raiders, he wouldn't mean he would be safe from whoever or whatever else was out there.
Joel pinched your chin and gently tugged your lip from between your teeth, making you snap out of it.
"Can I go with you?"
Joel's face softened. "No, baby. You don't even remember how to shoot a gun. I can't risk it."
Of course, he was right. "Who would you take?"
He smiled and dropped his hand. "Tommy. Neil. George. Couple others offered, too, but I'm not sure how many we wanna bring. Don't wanna stick out like a sore thumb with ten horses out in the middle of the woods."
You relaxed a bit knowing he would be going with some of Jackson's most seasoned patrolmen.
"Okay," you agreed softly. His face lit up and he leaned forward.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," you sighed, looking over at the TV as the credits began to roll. He hooked a finger under your chin and dragged your eyes back onto him.
"Thank you," he whispered before pressing his lips firmly against yours, trying with all his might to pour every ounce of affection and adoration he had for you into the kiss. You giggled against his mouth as he tried to push you onto your back once again, but you playfully shoved his shoulder before breaking the kiss and scooting away.
"We told Ellie we'd meet her and Dina for dinner, remember?"
He groaned as if he were in physical pain and reached out for you but you quickly stood up, wagging a finger at him. He gazed up at you from the couch with his brown eyes all wide and gentle.
"I mean it, thank you. I don't know what I did to deserve you."
You blushed and bit your lip as you slowly walked backwards towards the stairs. "You can make it up to me one day."
Joel's gaze darkened and he dug his fingers into the couch cushion. "Just say the word, baby. Anytime. Anywhere."
You laughed and turned towards the steps. "Come on, we should get ready for dinner."
"In a minute," he said as you disappeared upstairs. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to will his raging hard on away before standing up and following you.
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You inhaled deeply, your body heavy with sleep as you struggled to focus on Joel's voice.
"Sweetheart, I'm leavin'."
With a groan, you rolled over and reached out for him blindly, your eyes still not fully adjusted to the beam of light shining in from the hallway.
He smiled and grabbed your hands, wrapping them around his neck. He felt your fingers dig into the back of his neck and shoulders as you feebly attempted to pull him towards you.
You asked him to wake you up before he left for his scouting mission, so he did as you requested but you were so warm and soft and supple under his touch that he was finding it impossible to leave.
Maybe you planned it that way.
"I'll be back late tomorrow. I love you," he whispered, pressing a kiss against your temple, taking an extra moment to savor it. When he pulled away, your fingers tightened around his neck and you lifted your chin, kissing him with an urgency he hadn't expected from your half-awake state.
"Come home to me, Joel," you mumbled, your eyes squinting at him through the darkness. He pulled an arm from around his neck and brought your knuckles to his lips.
"Promise."
It was so hard to leave but he kept reminding himself he was doing it to keep you safe. Regardless of what Tommy thought, something in his gut told him they hadn't seen the last of those raiders. He brought them into the mountains, and he was determined to be the one to finish it.
"I'm still surprised she let you do this," Tommy said a few hours into their travels. George was leading the group while he and Tommy brought up the rear. The forest was silent, save for the birds just beginning to wake in the branches above. After a long, painful winter, it was a relief to hear the first signs of spring.
"What'dya mean let me?" Joel scoffed, but when he locked eyes with Tommy, who was giving him a look that said he saw right through his bullshit, Joel grinned. "Yeah, alright, it took a little work but she understood."
Tommy nodded and went back to paying attention to their surroundings. They were officially in unguarded territory, the nearest patrol route now miles behind them. The trees had yet to fully bloom so it was still rather easy to see through the woods.
"I think you really freaked her out when you left," Tommy said, "she came runnin' to the house that mornin' in a panic. Thought she wouldn't let you leave her sight again after that."
Joel hummed and turned his head so his brother wouldn't see his smile. He didn't want to worry you, but every time he heard something like that, it reminded him how much you cared, even if you couldn't say it just yet.
"So, you two back to normal now or what?" Tommy pried. Joel shot him a look and he shrugged. "We got a long journey here. We can't talk to pass the time?"
"Yeah, mostly back to normal," Joel finally answered, shifting his weight in his saddle. He could already feel his lower back beginning to flare up. "Takin' things slow. Givin' her as much time as she needs."
Tommy nodded, reading between the lines. "Didn't look that slow the other night after dinner," he muttered under his breath, but Joel still heard him.
"She had a couple drinks, is all," he replied with a chuckle. He scratched his chin as he thought back to a few nights prior when you had draped your arms around his shoulders and your face buried against his neck for the better part of thirty minutes. It was late, all of the families had cleared out after dinner, leaving behind the adults to kick back and cut loose a bit. It reminded Joel of a time before the world went to hell. When he and Tommy would go to a bar on a Friday night, the smell of stale beer and cigarettes in the air while the patrons had to shout over a mediocre cover band playing Lynyrd Skynyrd. It was the first time in a long time he felt relaxed and at ease. He watched his brother and wife across the bar steal kisses around conversations with neighbors, grateful for a night out as Ellie had offered to babysit. He had you at his side, sipping whiskey and making a face before you switched to something else.
As the night dragged on, you got a little closer. Then your hand found his knee under the table and you tilted your head into his shoulder, quietly listening to him discuss the plan for the trip with George. He wrapped an arm around your waist but his focus was entirely on George, too concerned with the map he had spread out over the wooden table. George's wife finally came to collect him, telling him she was tired and he was too old to be trying to keep up with the younger men, shot for shot. She wasn't wrong by the way he stood up and stumbled a bit, leading him towards the door, leaving just the two of you at your table. Once you were alone, your arms snaked around his neck and you tugged him to your lips, your tongue greedily licking into his mouth, the heavy taste of whiskey and gin on your combined breath.
"You sure it was just the drinks? You don't think it had anythin' to do with Angie sittin' two tables over?"
Joel's face flushed and he cleared his throat. It shouldn't turn him on but he couldn't help it. He liked it when you were possessive over him.
"Didn't think it wise to ask," was all he said. Tommy chuckled.
The group made decent time. They had a grid in mind and they almost reached their desired destination by sundown. When morning came, the plan was they would make their way back towards Jackson and cover the northeast quadrant of the map.
As they set up camp for the night, deciding to forego a fire since the temperature was comfortable and they didn't want to risk giving away their location, Neil commented that they hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary so far.
"Not that I mind coming out here, Joel," he followed up quickly, "always a good idea to take precautions and all that."
Joel nodded and focused on spreading out his sleeping bag. "I appreciate you all comin'. Not sure if I say it enough, but I'm grateful."
Neil and George exchanged surprised looks at the unexpected appreciation.
They got an early start the next morning, and as the sun rose higher in the sky and more ground was covered, Joel began to wonder if maybe they would make it back to Jackson sooner than he thought. He really hoped they would. Even if it was just one day, he missed you. He hated sleeping without you. He hated waking up and not finding you curled up against him with your head resting on his chest or his arms wrapped about your waist, face buried against the back of your neck.
He was glancing around the forest, wondering what you were doing right at that very moment when he spotted something orange in the distance. His heart rate picked up and he whistled, catching the group's attention. He pointed through the trees and they all silently slid down from their horses. Checking their weapons, they fanned out and slowly made their way towards the scrap of fabric. As they got closer, Joel could see it was a knit cap stuck in a bush, fluttering in the wind. None of the men saw any other signs of life, each of them silently communicating with hand signals they were taught years ago.
Tommy heard shuffling and he held up his hand, bringing the group to an immediate stop. From his angle, Joel could see that the bush with the knit cap was right outside the opening of a small cave. The way the trees had grown around the rocks, it was impossible to notice it from a distance.
The perfect hiding spot.
He exchanged worried looks with Tommy before they crept closer, his rifle gripped tightly in both hands, ready for anything. The shuffling got louder and clearer and it became apparent that the noise was coming from right within the mouth of the cave. Catching Tommy's eye, he made sure to show him he was putting his rifle away in favor of his hunting knife. He always preferred a silent takedown over wasting ammunition, but just in case it went sideways, Tommy would be ready to cover him.
Joel situated himself next to the mouth of the cave while the other men, spread out amongst the trees, hid and waited. He reached down and grabbed a rock, throwing it about ten feet away to draw out whoever was hiding.
He didn't even need to see it to know what was waiting for him.
When the rock cracked against a tree trunk and he heard the telltale snarl of infected, he tightened his grip on his knife. The runner stumbled out of the cave with a shriek, jaw snapping angrily in the direction of the noise. Joel had run into his fair share of infected over the years. He knew the noise would have drawn the attention of any infected in the immediate vicinity, and when he only spotted one, he almost breathed a sigh of relief.
He took it down silently with a blade to the back of the head, then inspected the body. It looked fresh, the clothes mostly intact. The rest of the men joined him as they peered inside the cave, listening intently for any movement. When they heard none, they began to advance.
The cave wasn't very big but it was enough to house ten men. At least, that's the number of bodies they found, not a single trace of life left.
"Well, shit," Tommy muttered, kicking one of the mangled bodies with his boot. "Guess that hunch of yours was right."
It didn't exactly please Joel to know he was right, but at least it was the best possible scenario. The men were taken out by infected probably within the past week. He counted the bodies five times. Then recounted the backpacks and sleeping bags. Ten seemed to be the correct number. No one was missing, assuming the runner he had just killed was the only raider who had the misfortune of turning instead of dying right away.
They scavenged what they could from the dead bodies before trekking back to the horses.
"Keep your heads up. Don't mean there ain't anythin' else out here," Joel warned.
"The warmer weather must've thawed out some infected," Tommy mused next to him. Joel nodded.
"Probably should warn the others to keep their guard up the next few weeks," he replied. "Maybe add an extra body to the towers if we can."
Tommy nodded in agreement. The winters in the mountains were harsh but at least they saw a decrease in the undead.
"Now let's get the hell home," George said over his shoulder, the rest of the men mumbling in agreement. Joel ducked his chin to his chest to hide his relieved smile. Home.
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To say you were happy to see him return was an understatement. It was closer to ten at night when you finally heard his heavy footsteps on the front porch.
"Told'ya I'd come back," he chuckled when you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight.
"I know," you mumbled into his shirt. His heart swelled in his chest and he closed his eyes, breathing deep the smell of your shampoo. You both had a lot of work to do, essentially starting over and building a relationship from the ground up, but it was moments like those that made him believe everything was going to work out.
"Are you hungry?"
"Nah, just need a shower," he said, dropping his pack by the door and kicking off his boots.
"So I take it you didn't find anything?" you asked, trailing up the stairs behind him. He walked into your bedroom to grab a fresh set of boxers and sweatpants.
"Actually, we did," he began, and your heart plummeted. He saw the look on your face and quickly shook his head. "They were dead by the time we got there. 'Bout ten of 'em holed up in a cave. Infected got to 'em first."
"Oh, wow," you breathed, slowly sinking down onto the bed. "Well, at least you have peace of mind now, right?"
"Exactly," he said, giving you a quick kiss before heading into the bathroom. "Be out in a minute."
You heard the water turn on and you glanced over at the red flannel of Joel's that you slept in the night before. Even though it was clean, it still smelled like him. You glanced at the closed bathroom door and bit your lip, your heart fluttering in your chest as you thought things over. The morning he left, you wished you had told him but you were too sleepy and you wanted it to be more meaningful. Then, when you woke up and his side of the bed was ice cold, you felt the dread begin to creep up your spine. What if something happened and you never told him how you felt?
Well, nothing happened. He was home now. Safe and sound. There was no reason not to tell him.
You heard the water turn off and you jumped up to grab his flannel and scurried out of the bedroom, across the hall to the other bathroom, shutting the door.
Joel emerged a few minutes later with his wet hair slicked back wearing just a pair of sweatpants, per usual. He tossed his dirty clothes in the laundry basket and looked around. He noticed the closed door across the hall and assumed you were getting ready for bed so he slid between the sheets with a groan. He closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate the mattress underneath him instead of the unforgiving forest floor before leaning over to grab his glasses and a book.
When you tiptoed back into the bedroom wearing only his flannel, he didn't notice at first. His focus was on the small print in front of him, blinking a few times and wondering if he needed stronger lenses when you cleared your throat. He glanced up and did a double take, his lips parting in shock when he saw his red flannel hugging your curves, the hem falling just below your ass.
You looked up at him and feigned surprise. "Oh, is this okay? I was cold-"
"Yes," he swallowed, immediately cutting you off, "it's okay."
You smiled and made a show of bending over to fix the sheets. Again, he swallowed tightly when he caught a glimpse of your black underwear and he felt his cock twitch. Before you turned around he made sure to be focused back on his book, although he was most definitely not absorbing any of the words on the page.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw you peel back the sheets and with a sigh, you tucked yourself in. You glanced over at him, admiring his strong side profile and the way his glasses perched on the tip of his nose.
"I missed you," you whispered, and he dragged his eyes from his book to look at you.
"I missed you, too."
You caught the way his eyes flicked down to your chest where you purposely left two buttons undone so you exposed a little bit of cleavage.
"What are you reading?" you asked, and he laughed through his nose.
"I've got no fuckin' idea."
In a flash, his book was discarded and you were in his lap, your mouth hungrily devouring his as he carefully removed his glasses and tossed them to the side. He wrapped both arms around you and held you close to his bare chest, his tongue licking past your teeth eagerly.
"You look so fuckin' good in my clothes," he growled, sounding as if it pained him before biting at your jaw.
"I wore your shirts the whole time you were gone," you admitted, rolling your head back and grinding down on his hips. You bit your lip when you felt how hard he was already. "Almost the whole week. I slept in your bed and-"
"Fuck," Joel groaned, grabbing your face with both hands and feverishly plunged his tongue into your mouth. You moaned and grabbed his shoulders, the intensity behind the kiss growing too hot. You could feel yourself tumbling, free-falling into the abyss with the unspoken words sitting heavy on your tongue, hoping Joel would be there to catch you.
"Wait," you gasped, pulling away, but only a little. Your forehead still rested against his as you both panted for air.
"I know, I'm sorry-" he was about to apologize for taking things too far when you cut him off.
"Do you remember all those months ago when I asked how I fell in love with you?"
Joel nodded. "Yeah."
"Do you remember what you said?"
He tilted his head back, lips parted as he gazed up at you, wondering why you were asking him those questions in that moment.
"Yeah," he replied slowly, "I said you're gonna have to wait to find out."
You bit your lip and with a shaky hand, you traced one of the wrinkles next to his eyes. "Well, I found out."
His chest stilled, breath caught in his throat as he processed your words. His eyes roamed over your face, hoping and praying he wasn't misunderstanding. When you saw him nervously swallow, you smiled.
"I love you, Joel."
His eyebrows pinched together and before you could see the tears welling up in his eyes, he pulled you down for another searing kiss. This time, he went slower. He savored every second, he memorized everything he possibly could about that moment because the way you made him feel hearing those words was unlike anything he ever experienced and he didn't want to take a single second for granted.
"I love you, too," he choked. He could feel you smile against his lips when he pressed his mouth against yours again. "Fuck, I love you so much," he mumbled, his hands falling to your hips, "I'd do anythin' for you."
Your mouth latched onto his throat and you dropped your hand between your bodies, your fingers lightly stroking him through his pants. And once again, you felt his muscles stiffen and freeze.
For a moment, the self-doubt crept in. What if he didn't want to? Was he too tired? Was he not ready? Then his hand covered your wrist and you watched as he slowly dragged your hand up and down, showing you what he liked. Encouraging you to continue. So you did.
His head tipped back against the headboard with a sigh and he squeezed his eyes shut, removing his hand and letting you take control. He wanted - no, needed - you to call the shots. You needed to take it as far as you wanted to take it.
When your fingers dipped below his waistband, he tensed.
When he finally felt your soft touch on his cock, he groaned.
It was better than he even remembered. His eyes were still closed as you worked him up and down, the arousal pooling between your legs the longer you spent just feeling him and not seeing him.
"I want you," you whispered in his ear, and his hips jolted as he whined against your shoulder. You wanted him.
When he opened his eyes, he looked absolutely wrecked. You could see that he was trying his best to hold back, trying his best to make sure you were comfortable, that you weren't feeling pressured, that you really wanted it.
But when you sweetly whispered please, Joel, he didn't hesitate. He flipped you onto your back and pulled hastily at the buttons of his flannel while he cemented his mouth against yours. Your hands drifted to his hair and back, pulling and scratching as you went while he finally flung open the shirt. He instantly latched his lips around your nipple, making you moan and arch your back underneath him.
"So beautiful," he mumbled against your chest. "Tell me again."
You smiled and peered down at him. "I love you."
He breathed a sigh of relief, his exhale fanning over your skin, making your nipples tighten. His rough hands slid down your stomach, thick fingers splayed wide, trying to touch as much of you as possible at once.
You could hear your heartbeat thrumming steadily in your ears when he dipped his fingers below the elastic of your underwear, a deafening sound that made it hard to focus but when he slid a finger slowly through your arousal, your senses suddenly sharpened. The house could have been on fire but you never would have known because all you could focus on was him.
He dragged his open mouth across your chest, teeth grazing over your collarbone, tongue flicking out and tasting you as he went. His lips puckered and sucked at your skin as he pet gently at your entrance, making you squirm with need and tug impatiently at his hair. When he pulled his hand out of your underwear, you made a frustrated little noise that made him smile. He popped his finger into his mouth and you watched, struggling to breathe, as his eyes fluttered closed and he moaned like he had just slipped into a warm bath after a hard day.
"God, I missed that," he whispered, and the look on his face made you actually believe him.
"Joel..." you breathed, plucking feebly at the waistband of his sweatpants.
"Lemme just make you come on my mouth first," and before you could respond, he was shimmying down between your legs and tugging off your panties. When you glanced down and saw how good it looked with his head between your legs, you relaxed and leaned back. How could you argue with that view?
"Oh," you sighed when his tongue first slid through your folds. You tipped your head back and closed your eyes, allowing your muscles to melt under his touch. His hands held your thighs open but he didn't need to bother. There was no possible way you would do anything to stop him. Not when he felt so good, taking his time and expertly lavishing your core with his tongue. And perhaps he was an expert. At least when it came to you, he had five years of experience to fall back on. He surely must have figured out what you liked in all that time.
Your breath was growing ragged and you could feel the heat creeping up your chest. He pressed the backs of your thighs, pushing your knees up towards your chest so he could devour every inch of you, eating messily at your cunt. You pulled your knees back and hooked your hands around each one, your thighs becoming too shaky to hold open with your own strength.
It was a combination of his lips wrapping around your clit and the deep groan that rumbled through his chest that made you come undone the first time. Instant relief flashed through your body and you released your knees, letting your legs fall limply onto the quilt while he eagerly cleaned you up with his tongue.
When he sensed it was too much, he began peppering kisses along your inner thighs, murmuring praise into your skin as he went. You opened your eyes and peered down at him, your breath getting caught in your throat at the sight. His mouth and beard were glistening with your slick, his own eyes remained shut as he mindlessly nipped and kissed your skin, but even from your angle you could see him rutting his hips into the mattress, looking for any amount of friction to relieve the ache.
You reached your arms out to him and he inched up but stopped at your stomach. He sighed and rested the side of his head against your belly, listening to your breath evening out as he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around your waist. It took you by surprise that he wasn't immediately jumping at the chance to chase his own release when it was clear just a moment before he was dying for it. You glanced down at him and smiled when you saw the look on his face, simply content with just holding and being close to you. Carding your fingers through his curls, you heard him hum before pressing a gentle kiss against your stomach.
It might have been that moment when you realized he was right. What you had was special and rare. You could feel it in your bones, the way a look or touch sent a jolt right through you. The way you felt drawn to him, even from the very first day of your accident, you could sense something in him. You had no idea at the time what it was, but you were beginning to understand now.
"Joel?" you whispered, worried he might have somehow fallen asleep. Then you felt it. The first hot teardrop hit your skin and your heart clenched. "C'mere," you said, tugging at his shoulders. Begrudgingly, he obeyed. And after his arms loosened and he unpeeled his wet face from your belly, you saw the anguish in his eyes. All watery and wide and guilt-ridden.
"I don't deserve you," he said softly, his voice breaking a bit as you cupped his jaw. "Never did and definitely don't now. Not after everything I've done. Don't deserve your forgiveness, let alone your love."
You shushed him and pressed your lips tenderly against his, your thumb wiping away his tears as they fell.
"Don't tell me who I can and cannot love," you said, taking his chin in your hand and giving it a firm shake, like you were punishing him. He chuckled thickly through the tears.
You pulled him down by the back of his neck and kissed him slower, your tongue just barely dipping into his mouth. He groaned when you began to plant wet kisses along his jaw and you noticed with pride that his chest was rising and falling faster than usual while his hips ground into yours.
"Love you s'much," he almost sounded drunk, the feel of your mouth over his skin clouding his mind and mushing his words together.
"Yeah?" you asked before sucking a bruise where his jaw met his throat. "Then show me."
Joel kicked off his sweatpants and boxers with a grunt but when you went to remove his flannel from around your shoulders, he stopped you.
"Leave it on."
Your cheeks flared with heat at the way he looked at you and all you could do was nod and bite your lip.
It felt like time stood still when you first felt him enter you. Like nothing else in the world mattered outside of those four walls. He held your gaze and your fingers dug into his back, each of you savoring the stretch with your mouths hung open, the only sound was the occasional sharp little breath or gasp from one or both of you.
You could see it in his face again and you had a feeling you mirrored his look. It was too intense. Too overwhelming. So much had happened that led up to that moment: all the fear, sadness, laughter, arguments, long talks and shared traumas came crashing down at once. A tear slid down your cheek right when his hips came flush with yours and he leaned down to kiss it away.
"You okay?"
You nodded and wiped another tear away with the back of your hand.
"It's just a lot, y'know?" you sniffled, hoping he understood. And he did.
His eyes glistened and he smiled, his fingers brushing away a few stray pieces of hair from your face. "I know. We've come a long way."
"Yeah," you whispered, blinking back more tears. Your fingertips traced his bottom lip, your eyes flickering around his face, taking in every little crease and dimple. "Kiss me."
He did as you asked, kissing you slow and deep, matching pace with his hips. Your fingers dug into his arms, holding onto him, keeping him close. His hand pushed his flannel back, exposing one of your shoulders while your head tilted back into the pillows, momentarily breaking away for air. You moaned softly when he began to grind his hips against you, providing your clit with some much needed stimulation while he dragged his mouth down the column of your throat and across your collarbone. When he sunk his teeth gently into your shoulder, he felt you clench around him and gasp.
How's that feel?
Do that again.
Tell me you love me.
I love you.
Those sweet, desperate whispers were shared, breathed into each other's mouths, every word dragged out, every touch deliberate and slow. Neither of you in the mood to rush a thing as your fingers tightly laced together next to your head.
His other hand skirted around your back and under his shirt, palm pressing against your spine, pulling you closer to him, if it was even possible. He flexed his hips and you groaned when the tip of his cock hit a spot that had your entire body buzzing.
"Right there," you whimpered into his neck, brows pinched together and stomach tightening as you concentrated on the fire being stoked deep within you. Every one of his powerful thrusts was adding fuel to the flames. Your skin was slick with sweat and you began to regret keeping his flannel on.
"I know, baby. I remember," he whispered, tightening his grip on you. "Fuck, y'feel so good, I can't-"
"Don't stop! Please, Joel, more," you begged, tears welling up and spilling down your cheeks the closer and closer he pushed you to the edge. Your thighs tensed around his waist and his lips kissed the tears away and when you came, crying his name into his skin, he soothed you. He told you how much he loved you, how much he missed being so close to you, reminded you he was right there, that he had you and everything was okay.
Moments later, you felt his body tremble and his hips stutter. In a haze, you loosened your legs from around his waist. His lips captured yours frantically, fast puffs of exhale fanning over your cheek as he got more and more lost in chasing his climax. Your shaking fingers reached up to get tangled in his hair, ensuring his mouth remained firmly planted against your lips, muffling his groans and garbled versions of your name and I love yous, swallowing everything down until he yanked his hips away, spilling himself all over your stomach.
You both broke the kiss and looked down between your bodies, watching as each weak thrust painted your skin with more and more of his release until he finally stilled and shuddered.
After he finally forced himself to stand, he cleaned you up and slipped back into bed, one of his legs sticking out from underneath the covers, still slightly panting for air. You curled into his side, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you snug against him, his nose getting buried in your hair as you listened to each other's breaths even out. You quietly told him about a wound you stitched up at work all by yourself the day before and he told you how proud he was of you. You listened to him tell you a little more about his trip, how relieved he felt now that he confirmed with his own eyes Jackson was safe. At least, for the time being.
The last thing you remembered was him telling you how much he hated sleeping on the ground and how much he missed you while his knuckles soothingly dragged over your stomach but all you could think about was the warm glow that radiated from your skin and the delicious soreness between your legs as you drifted off to sleep.
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The next morning, you heard birds singing outside your window. You smiled before you even opened your eyes. Spring was coming. You always loved spring. Something about it made you hopeful and calm, and that morning was no exception.
You awoke still wrapped in his arms and his flannel, your cheek pressed against his bare chest, one of your legs slotted between his, enjoying the peace and quiet the morning brought.
"I thought you died," you admitted quietly once he woke, your fingertips tracing over the scar above his hip. "When you didn't come back that day, I was so worried. So scared my last words to you were something cruel and hurtful."
He hummed and said, "Oh darlin', I'm so sorry," then kissed the top of your head.
"Don't be. In a way, it helped me realize how much I care about you," you replied, lifting your chin from his chest to glance up at him. He always looked way too handsome in the morning. It was hardly fair. "Made me realize I couldn't live without you."
He grinned and rolled his shoulder, stretching out his sore muscles. "Well, if that's all it took, why didn't you say somethin' sooner?"
You giggled and looked back down at his scar, the smile slowly slipping from your face the longer you looked at the pale jagged edges marring his bronzed skin. "God, that day you didn't come back, though," you continued, your brow furrowed as you thought, "I had the worst pit in my stomach. Almost like I knew something was wrong, you know?"
He nodded and closed his eyes, letting you talk, completely at ease listening to your voice.
"It probably didn't help I had woken up that morning from the worst fucking nightmare."
"What nightmare?" he asked sleepily.
You chuckled when you thought about it.
"It's not really funny," you explained, rolling off of him and onto your back, pulling his flannel closed as you moved. "It had started out just like this, actually. It was morning, we were in bed and we were talking... about death?" you said the last part as if it were a question. "I was asking you if you believed in heaven and I told you I was afraid we were going to hell." His eyes snapped open and he quickly rolled his head to look at you, waiting for you to continue. You laughed again and shrugged. "I guess it felt like a premonition or something. Really freaked me out, it felt so real."
"What else?" he asked excitedly, sitting up. You looked up at him and cocked your head to the side.
"What do you mean?"
"What else do you remember? From the nightmare?"
"Oh," you said, pushing yourself up so you were also sitting. You stared at the wall blankly as you thought about it. "You told me we aren't bad people, and even though I told you we had done bad things, I believed you. Then..." you felt your cheeks flush and he sat forward eagerly.
"Then what?" he urged, and when you looked at him again, any trace of playfulness was gone.
"Then... it got a little dirty but I woke up before anything happened. But I do remember you were on top of me and you said-"
"This is heaven right here?" he finished for you, and you looked at him in surprise.
"Yes! How did-"
"That was no nightmare, honey. That happened," he told you, his voice rising. He thought his heart was going to explode, it was racing so fast.
"What?" you whispered, but Joel was already jumping out of bed and tugging on his boxers.
"C'mon, get up! We gotta take you to see Nick!"
"Wait," you said, buttoning up his flannel as he flew around the room, grabbing new clothes for you both. "Joel, this was a month ago, what will going to see Nick do?"
"I-I-I don't know! But we gotta tell him. Maybe there's somethin' we can do if we know you're capable of -"
"Joel, sit down," you said, cutting him off. He froze, having just tugged on a shirt but his jeans were still left unzipped and unbuttoned. You stared at him until he took the few steps towards the bed and sat down on the edge. "I'll talk to Nick next time I'm at work, but I don't want to barge in there and take up his time. You know this is out of his area of expertise."
He looked disappointed but he knew you were right because he finally nodded in agreement and bit the inside of his cheek while he stared at the floor. You put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, drawing his attention back onto you.
"It doesn't matter, anyway," you said softly. "If my memories come back, then they come back. If they don't, they don't. All that matters is this... right?" you asked, inching closer to him and resting a hand on his thigh. He smiled and enveloped your hand in his.
"Yeah, you're right," he said, staring down at your conjoined hands for a moment. "You wanna go get some breakfast? Maybe talk 'bout it a bit more?"
"Sure," you replied, then leaned forward, kissing him tenderly before standing up. "I should probably shower, though. Last night got a little messy," you said, tossing him a wink over your shoulder. He smirked and watched your ass sway back and forth in his fucking clothes as you made your way to the bathroom. You turned around in the doorway, one hand on the knob, the other braced against the frame as you looked at him expectantly from across the room. "Aren't you coming?"
All the blood rushed directly between his legs and just like that, his excitement for you recalling a memory was replaced by a very different kind of excitement.
"Hell, yes," he said, standing up and shucking off his shirt as he followed you into the bathroom. He grabbed your face with both hands and crashed his mouth against yours, kicking the door shut behind him.
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Three Months Later
"Can't believe I'm the one teachin' you how to shoot," Joel muttered in disbelief as you walked back from the line of trees where he had hammered a paper target into one of the trunks. "You were always a better shot than me. Almost better than Tommy, and he was in the goddamn Army."
You laughed and shook your head, still finding it difficult to believe that you ever shot a gun before. From what you remember, you were always afraid of guns growing up.
"Maybe I'm a natural, then."
Enough time had passed and the weather had gotten warm enough where you decided it would be beneficial to re-learn how to shoot. You didn't plan on going back to patrol, but in the world you lived in, it was an important skill to have.
You sat down next to Joel on the fallen tree trunk in the middle of a small field about two miles away from Jackson. He picked up each one of his guns and inspected them, making sure they were clean so there wouldn't be much kickback.
"Have any dreams lately?"
You sighed and shook your head. "Just the one about Ellie, and that was over a month ago."
When you woke up one morning from a dream that felt all too real, you shook Joel awake to tell him about it. It was a simple dream, but it felt intense. You had dreamed Ellie sat you and Joel down at the kitchen table, and full of nerves, explained that she was seeing someone. Someone she cared about deeply. You seemed to catch on quicker than Joel because the conversation lead to where Ellie had to point blank explain to him that she was dating another girl. He seemed surprised but not overly shocked, and when he shrugged it off and still maintained that his only concern was her partner treating her right, her face broke out into a huge smile.
After he confirmed it was a memory, you agreed to see Nick. He didn't end up having much insight on what spurred your sudden recollection that day, just as you expected. But much to your surprise, Joel was perfectly calm. In fact, he made a point of thanking Nick and you even saw him smile at the other man.
And it wasn't just Nick you noticed his demeanor changing toward, either. When kids playing in the street bumped into him, he laughed and waved them off. When Jesse proposed to his girlfriend, Joel was one of the first in line to give him a hearty handshake and wished them well.
You weren't sure if his behavior changed because you were so revolted by it in the beginning, or if he was just happier in general, but you didn't complain.
"Alright, so which one d'you think we're gonna use from this distance?" he asked after he showed you his revolver and then his rifle, explaining the difference between each: how they handled, when to use them, when not to use them, and then finally, how to load and unload them.
You gave him a blank look. "The rifle, Joel. I'm not a complete idiot. I've seen movies."
He grinned and holstered his revolver.
"Good girl. Beauty and brains," he said, and you rolled your eyes.
"Don't start."
"What?" he asked innocently.
"Don't start flirting with me. You'll distract me and I want to take this seriously."
"I ain't flirtin' with you."
"Yes, you are!"
He laughed heartily at your frustrated little pout. "Can you blame me? You're so goddamn cute."
"Joel..." you whined, and he held up both hands in defeat before picking up the rifle.
"Alright, alright. Lemme shoot off a few rounds and you watch my form, okay? Watch my shoulders and where my hands go."
"Okay."
You observed him as he took aim at the target, nearly hitting the bullseye but not quite.
"You wanna give it a shot?"
"Pun intended?"
He grinned and held out the rifle, so you grabbed it and sunk down to one knee, resting your elbows on the tree trunk as you tried to imitate his posture.
"Like this?"
"Mhm," he said, "now take a deep breath and squeeze the trigger nice 'n slow."
Doing as you were told, you inhaled and blinked a few times, making sure your vision was clear and your eye was on the prize. Pursing your lips, you slowly exhaled and squeezed the trigger - only to miss hitting the target entirely.
"Shit," you grumbled, sitting back on your heels.
"You got spooked by the kickback," Joel said, "try again, but this time try not to flinch."
You shouldered the rifle and took aim, once again taking a deep breath and focusing on the little yellow circle in the middle of the target. When you fired off your second round, doing your best not to flinch, you clipped the edge of the paper, but you were no where near the center.
"Goddamnit!" you yelled angrily. Joel chuckled and crouched behind you.
"Here. Lemme help you."
He wrapped his arms around yours and pressed his chest against your back, his hands coming to rest on top of yours as he made some minuscule adjustments to your posture.
"Y'gotta be gentle, see?" he whispered in your ear. Your eyelids fluttered but you managed to nod. "Gotta be patient. Don't let her scare you. Think of her as an extension of you. Like another arm."
"Her?" you teased.
He chuckled, his breath puffing against the back of your neck. "Yeah. Her. I'm respectful and careful with all my girls."
"All?" you repeated, leaning into him a bit. "How many are there?"
"Oh, tons," he said, making you giggle. "But if it makes you feel any better, you're my favorite."
"A favorite over a bunch of guns? I'm so flattered."
"Hey, now. Didn't you just say you wanted to take this seriously? C'mon, focus up," and you knew he was right so you straightened up and pressed your eye against the scope once again.
Joel stayed behind you, his hands on your shoulders to help stabilize your upper body as you squeezed off shot after shot. His advice helped a little, you were at least hitting the paper, but you weren't getting anywhere near his shots from earlier. He could see you were growing frustrated so when you ran out of bullets, he took the rifle and told you to take a break while he reloaded.
"It's okay, darlin'. It's gonna take a bit to get used to it."
You sighed and slumped forward on the tree trunk. "Yeah, I guess," you mumbled.
For the next twenty minutes, Joel coached you while you struggled to remember all his advice at once. Keep your shoulders loose. Don't flinch. Follow through. Breathe. When you pulled the last round into the chamber and took aim, you expected it to go like all the others so you stopped worrying about it and just pulled the trigger.
"Holy shit, you did it!" Joel exclaimed excitedly. You hadn't even bothered to look, so you quickly brought the scope back up to your face. When you saw the small little circle burning a hole through the paper, nearly dead center, you squealed and quickly placed the rifle against the tree so you could jump into Joel's arms. He wrapped his arms around your ribs and spun you around while you giggled into his neck.
"Told you," he said with a wide grin after he put you back down. You grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him into you, crashing your lips together, taking him by surprise. He stumbled forward but wrapped a hand around the back of your neck just as you lost your own footing and fell onto the grass, dragging him down with you.
You laughed against his mouth, still peppering kisses all over his face. He braced both arms on either side of you, elbows digging into the warm grass, smile permanently stretching across his cheeks as he soaked up your affection.
When your laughter died down, you pulled away to gaze up at him, your fingers playing with the dark curls at the base of his neck. The sun was shining over the field and onto his tanned skin, making his sparkling brown eyes look like the color of gold. It took your breath away.
"You're so handsome," you whispered in awe, your fingers leaving his hair in favor of stroking the graying stubble dusting his cheeks. He blushed and shook his head, but before he could protest, you spoke again. "I love you so much, Joel. Sometimes it makes me sad to think we probably wouldn't have ever known each other if the world didn't end."
His eyes softened and he gave you a small smile, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "I'll always find you. In every life, in every universe. You've got a piece of me," he tapped your chest lightly, "I don't make the rules."
You laughed and laced your fingers together with his. "Like fate?"
He shrugged. "Call it whatever you want. I already told you, sweetheart. We're meant to be together."
You pulled him down for another kiss, this one more gentle. More loving. More intimate. For the hundredth time, you mentally berated yourself for wasting so much time after your accident when you could have been with him like this, being loved and adored and cherished all along. Instead, you both had been searching endlessly for some version of yourself that you weren't sure you would ever find again. But then you realized if you never did, that was okay. Because you got to fall in love with each other all over again, and how many people get to say that?
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