#and now the cheeks are going to BE INVOLVED.

[auteurdelabre]

SO MUCH TO LOSE CHAPTER 11: SNOW

Rating: 18+

words: 15.2k

a/n #1: He's problematic but I love him your honor.

a/n #2: I LOVE Y'ALL for loving this fic! I see your comments and they warm my heart. I get inspired, I start writing the next chapter. I just fuckin love y'all. Please keep up the support here and on my A03.

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REBLOGS, COMMENTS, ENGAGEMENT ARE WHAT KEEP US FIC WRITERS GOING. PLEASE REMEMBER THAT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS.

Chapter 11: Snow

It's one of those nights where the weather feels biting and the snow heavy. The kind of weather that urges you to stay indoors and keep warm. 

Luke invited you and Jennifer to the Bison for karaoke earlier but you declined, citing you had other plans. 

Plans which involve the cup of tea at your elbow, the paperback in your hands and the fire going in the hearth. You feel cozy and warm and are almost drifting off when a knock at the door sounds. 

You slip out from under the blanket over your legs, padding over to the door and opening it a crack to see a familiar face.

"Oh, hey Tommy."

The younger Miller comes in, shaking off the flakes from his shoulder. He lets the cold in, taking his time entering your home before closing the door behind him. 

"Hey sorry to be callin' so late."

"Oh it's fine," you insist, suppressing a yawn. "You wanna drink?"

"Nah this'll be quick." Tommy sniffles, the end of his nose red from the cold. "S'about patrols."

"Uh huh?"

Tommy looks curiously uncomfortable, like a child who's been forced to apologize for something he feels he's not responsible for. 

"I was thinkin' and you don't have'ta do ‘em anymore. I'll find someone to take over your spot if you need." 

Tommy's face holds a myriad of expression, concern being the most predominant. Yours however holds nothing but confusion. 

"Who?"

"Uh, was thinkin' of that Jennifer girl," Tommy says, hands deep in his coat pocket. He shifts from foot to foot slowly. "She seemed pretty up for it before. Was gonna head over to her place after this and ask her to take over til we find someone new to train." 

This feels like a punch in the gut. 

Useless. 

The word Joel used when you first began. The word you thought you'd outgrown comes back like a sharp slap across the cheek. Your fingernails dig into the wood frame around the door, clinging to it.

The fire crackles dimly in the background, a soundtrack to your humiliation. Tommy can't look you in the eyes now and you have a feeling you know why. It makes you feel small and pathetic. 

"Do you..." The words don't come easily, you have to force them. "Do you think I'm not good enough to be on patrols?"

"No," Tommy answers quickly, eyes wide and head shaking vehemently. "No. Not at all. This is just... I know back when you started you said you didn't really wanna do it. Preferred kitchen duty."

"Yeah."

"And we got some new blood in town lately, so I figured, you know..." 

They think I'm useless. 

Why else would Tommy be offering this? Stories must have gotten around. Maybe Luke said something in passing about you being stuck with window patrol while they did repairs. Maybe Jennifer was worried that you were being treated poorly. 

Maybe Joel doesn't want you as his partner anymore.

That seems the most likely and somehow stings the most. A thought skitters across your brain like an unwelcome insect that makes your face grow cloudy.

"Did Joel tell you I'm bad on patrols or something? Is that the real reason you're here?"

"No. Joel never said you were bad on patrols." 

If Tommy's lying he's doing a damn good job of it. Still, it feels like he's editing himself, holding something back. 

You swallow, feeling a lump forming there. Part of you thinks it would be so easy to give in and agree to stopping. So easy to never have to put up with Joel's snide remarks or the panic you feel outside the gates. 

But there is something in the loss of that challenge that frightens you more. Something that feels worse than useless, it feels like cowardice. Something that feels like The Group wins even if they hold no power over you anymore. You suppose that's what motivates you to address Tommy with what you hope sounds like confidence. 

"I'd like to continue with them," you say to the ground at his feet. "If that's okay with you."

"You sure?"

You nod, watching an uneasy smile spread across his handsome features. Like he shouldn't be glad about your response but is. 

"All right, then. I'll skip my next stop."

He leaves with a wave and you watch him trudging through the snow out the window, your arms coming to wrap around yourself, but not because of the cold. 

///

"Focus and aim." 

You grit your teeth before narrowing your eyes and focusing all your attention on the empty tin can sitting on the fence. It's cold today, biting, and the scarf you wear wraps around the lower half of your face. 

You hold the weapon as you've been training, aiming with not your right eye but your left. 

You inhale, your ears pricked at every sound. All the birds chattering in the trees, the wind that blows the faraway sound of the townspeople. Even Jennifer's light breathing behind you. You make it all go quiet. 

"Fuck I can't. It's too loud out here."

"Loud?" Jennifer glances around the two of you, completely alone in the field. 

"Yeah. Birds, wind, echoes...."

You shift restlessly before bringing the shotgun back up to your eye level. You want to get this right. 

"Think of something calming," Jennifer urges, her eyes falling over your face as you focus. "Something that makes everything go quiet." 

Something that makes everything go quiet. 

Something calm.

Something that quells the frenetic beating of you heart.

Something that gives you that sweet blissful escape.

You try to think of that first sip of tea after a long day. How it mixes with the honey on your tongue, how you savor it. But it's not enough.

You think of the way running water sounds.

 The sensation of sunlight on your bare shoulders.

The soft muzzle of Chesnut.

Joel.

His dark eyes meeting yours when you knelt at his feet that last time. When his hand went to your cheek.

That's when everything felt safe and quiet. 

Jennifer seems to notice the steadying of your breathing because she nods approvingly as you let out a slow exhale. 

"Now shoot."

You don’t want to think of Joel. He can’t be your safe thought. You force your mind to think of something else. 

Making pastries with Ellie.

The sound Chestnut makes when he eats carrots. 

Your sisters smile. 

You pull the trigger, feeling as the weapon kicks back against your braced shoulder. The sound of the blast makes you wince. 

The can doesn't even move a fraction. 

"So close!" Jennifer insists, shielding her eyes from the glare of the grey sky on the snow. "It definitely grazed it." 

"Won't do much good grazing a clicker," you frown, lowering the weapon. Wind whips stray strands of your hair against your ruddy cheek. 

Oh c'mon now," Jennifer says trying to rouse your spirits. "We've been practising for weeks and you're getting so much better."

When Tommy came to offering you the repeat of patrols, you should have taken him up on it. And yet something churned within your guts. Insisted that you continue on with Jennifer's coaching trying to perfect your shooting skills. 

Because there is no Chiyo. No protector. No benevolent figure to save you. It's just you now. You and you alone. And months ago the thought would have terrified you into never leaving your home. It would have burst into grateful tears at the thought of being let off the hook. 

But something's been changing these last few months, something that gets stronger with every lesson Jennifer gives you, with every gallop atop of Chestnut. Something that whispers: not useless.

You kick at a stray patch of dirty snow, angry at yourself. You want to be better but it's taking so long. You want to feel more confident on patrols but your aim isn't progressing fast enough for you. You want to prove yourself not useless. 

"Alright Smiley," Jennifer says slinging a companionable arm around your shoulder. "Let's go have breakfast."

///

Breakfast on cold days is always something warm like eggs or oatmeal with honey. Often there's hot chocolate which you take gratefully between your hands today. You make a note to pack one for patrols in the Thermos you keep at home. 

You sit across from Jennifer who is back lit by the morning sun and looks like a goddess. How is Joel not more obvious in his intention for her? He's handsome but he's also at least fifty. He shouldn't be so picky with his personality the way it is.

But then again from what you've seen there's a certain air around Joel wherever he goes. One that has women of all ages smiling shyly and stammering when he's in the vicinity. Once you saw one woman drop an entire bag of yarn when he walked by in town. She didn't notice for a full three minutes. 

"So how did baking go with Ellie?"

You're surprised by this question. You'd assumed that the whole baking with Ellie thing was private. You certainly haven't talked about it with anyone. 

"Uh, how did-"

"She's going around telling eve ryone at school that she was baking with you," Jennifer laughs. "My friend Rebecca teaches her."

You recall meeting Rebecca a few weeks ago at one of Jennifer's big friendly breakfasts. One where you sat quietly listening to the chatting figures around you, being drawn into the odd conversation but mostly keeping quiet. You never feel quite comfortable around big crowds.

"It was nice," you offer, wrapping your fingers around the warm mug a little tighter. 

You have no intention of telling her what actually occurred. You don't want to tell her about the trauma you endured before Jackson City or the pain that Ellie saw reflected in your eyes. Jennifer’s lips curl into a sensuous smile.

"Was Joel there?"

"Yeah, he was around for a bit." 

You don't meet her eyes as you say this. And for some reason you don't mention to her that Joel made that second batch of pastries or that he wasn’t rough with how he spoke to you. The whole experience feels too private, too sacred. No matter what, you won't be sharing that information. 

"Speaking of which..." Jennifer trails off, nodding her head towards the door of the dining hall. You don't even bother looking over your shoulder; you know that she's referencing Joel. 

You try not to look stiff but you are. You're still unsure of how to act around him after everything that happened. 

The two of you eat quietly as your mind goes back to that day on Rancher Street. You still don't know how you feel about Joel; you're still perplexed by his actions. One day he hates you the next day he can tolerate you. It's all very confusing and not a little irritating. 

"He's staring over here," Jennifer says a short while later, trying not to move her lips when she speaks. "Keeps sneaking looks every few minutes."

You feel a grin spreading over your features as your friend smiles prettily, pretending she doesn't notice her crush. Maybe Joel isn't as thick as you thought and there is hope for the two of them. 

Jennifer dabs a bit at the egg on her plate with her toast, her sleeves rolled up to showcase her delicate wrists. 

"So, you gonna ask him out?"

"Nah," Jennifer shakes her head before taking a long pull from her coffee mug. "Joel's an old fashioned guy. I can't see him being into that."

It strikes you as humorous that things like old-fashioned men are still a thing. After the world has gone to rot, you're still shocked that certain socially expected norms exist. 

"Maybe that's what he needs though," you offer diplomatically. "A kick in the pants from a pretty lady."

"There's plenty else I'd like to do with his pants."

You make a face and the two of you collapse into hushed laughter, tilting over your breakfasts. Jennifer claps a hand over your shoulder in amusement; her laughed ebbing when you flinch at the contact. Her eyes study you a moment before a voice behind you breaks in. 

"Mind if I join you two?"

Luke stands looking down at the both of you with a charming smile. His hair is mussed, obviously just woke it up. You're struck with how handsome he is in the early light of the day. 

"Course not," you say smiling up at him. 

He takes a seat next to Jennifer, his thick-lashed eyes on you. 

"Sorry I couldn't make it to practice this morning. Was tired from last night."

"Karaoke at the Bison, right?" Jennifer laughs. "Wish I could have been there to see that. I had to help the ladies with a textile emergency." 

"Where were you?" Luke asks, chewing his toast as he stares at you. 

"Reading," you admit with a shy glance at your fork. "I like reading in front of the fire in cold weather." 

You always have. It's a safety for you in many ways. Curled under a blanket with the fire hissing and your latest paperback in your hands. Something nostalgic and beautiful about the written word surviving everything. 

"Hopefully the window we repaired held up in all this snow," Luke offers, glancing over his shoulder out the window. Flakes are falling gently. 

"I'm sure it did, you guys are all good at that stuff," you offer kindly. Jennifer watches you and Luke with a look of satisfaction, like Cupid after a successful mission. 

"You excited about patrols?" he grins over at you. 

"How could I not be? I get to go with Mr. Congeniality," you drop your eyes to your plate when you hear Luke and Jennifer giggle. 

You feel buoyed by their laughter, it takes you back to a time in life when you enjoyed making people laugh. Funny cartoons about teachers sketched on lined paper. Giggling behind hands as they were passed between desks. 

"With my luck though he'll tell me I'm riding my horse wrong," you joke, encouraged on by their twittering laughter.

"Or hell, maybe I'm breathing wrong," you drop your voice several octaves, adopting Joel's twang. "Too much inhalin' enough exhalin'." 

When you don't hear laughter at this you look up from your eggs to see that both Luke and Jennifer have started to grimace, looking over your shoulder. 

"Just got the word that we gotta head out early today."

Fuck. 

Your shoulders go to your ears in embarrassment as you feel Joel's tall body standing behind you. 

"Looks like there's gonna be heavy snow this afternoon," Joel's rumbling baritone informs you the back of your head. 

"Okay," you tell him, shooting only a brief look at him over your shoulder before dropping your eyes back to your eggs because you're too humiliated to completely turn around. "I'll join you when we're done breakfast."

You need a few minutes to collect yourself. You know Joel just heard everything. You need to regroup, maybe get advice from Jennifer on how to handle this. 

"No time to wait," Joel insists, his tone flat. "S'go." 

You feel Luke and Jennifer staring at you during this exchange and you clench your jaw tightly in irritation. 

"I'll bus your tray," Jennifer offers quietly across from you. "You go on."

You shoot her a grateful look, nodding as you stand. Joel is waiting there at your back, heavy eyes staring at you as you pull your jacket on. He's already got the backpack on, a gun strapped to him. 

You follow him wordlessly out the dining hall and towards the front gates where Midnight and Chestnut wait for you. Joel gives you the second gun, waiting for you to throw it over your shoulder before watching you hoist yourself up on Chestnut. 

"You ok there?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" You shoot back. 

Fuck, he's already starting in on you. Probably pissed off since he caught you mocking him. He says nothing in response as he pulls himself up on Midnight, throwing a long leg over the horse's black coat. 

You give a wave to Hank before the gates are opened and you and Joel ride out. As always you follow his lead, eyes on the horizon as Tommy's words full your head. 

Raiders.  Be more careful. 

It would be just your luck to run into them. Or clickers. The thought makes you feel nauseated. You're still not a good enough shot. Grazing isn't killing. 

"Did Tommy tell you about-"

"The Raiders? Yeah."

He doesn't offer more than that. 

Joel is quiet today, maybe even thoughtful. He doesn't speak to you on the way out to Teton Village but it's not with that same hostility that usually surrounds him. It's just regular quiet. He's not rude, but he's not friendly either. If the two of you were even acquaintances you'd think he was miffed with you. As it is the two of you travel on in silence until Teton. 

It’s your week to check the traps and despite your fears, you feel more confident with a bit of firearms training from Jennifer. Despite this you find yourself sticking closer to Joel during this walk into the forest.

You circle the tall trees, jacket catching on a thick gnarled tree trunk before you tug it off. Joel doesn't angrily chastise you when you trip over a wet patch because of it and bump into his back. He just goes rigid, waiting for you to right yourself before continuing on. 

“Watch your step.”

Your shotgun is out, aimed at whatever you hear in the underbrush which just turns out to be birds. Snow begins, dusting your shoulders as the two of you head back to the tied horses. The traps were empty, a good and bad sign all in one.

You’re paranoid as you travel to the outpost, your eyes scanning the horizon and the passing landmarks looking for anything that could be a danger. Clicker. Person. Your talks with Ellie of The Group have you suffering from nightmares lately and that bleeds into your day, making you convinced you can see a shock of red hair or a hyena-like female laugh.

But that’s impossible.

You travel in tense silence all the way to Teton Village. The snow crunches under the hooves of the horses and you're thankful that the snow has taken a reprieve, leaving it just grey and blustery. 

Soon enough you are at the village, about to do your normal rounds of the perimeter. You're confused when Joel leads you towards outpost building instead. You tie up the horses across the street and down a few houses, much to your increasing confusion. 

The wood creaks under your boots as the two of you make your way up to the outpost. You stop in front of the door, hand going to the lock. His voice is at your back, quiet. You feel him standing close behind you, likely waiting for you to make a mistake. 

"You remember the new code?"

"Mhm."

You're pleased with yourself when you do and it unlocks without issue. You make your way inside, smiling to yourself as you kick off the excess snow from your boots and head towards the storage room. 

Joel is close behind you and memories of the lingering moments you shared inside this very room make themselves known when you feel yourself slick between your legs. You hate yourself for it just a bit, the way your body betrays you.

"Gonna check that the window's holdin' up. You handle the log book."

You nod, going to the waiting page and scribbling your names inside along with the time. Joel makes his way up the creaking steps, and you watch as his long legs carry him. After a moment you hear some hammering and assume that there are a few things in need of minor repair or additional reinforcement. 

You take this moment to scan some of the past entries, the most recent from the last group who was in here a few days ago.

Repairs look great. Thanks.

You take a minute to flip back, curious to see old passages from former patrols. You never really took the time to do so. Varieties of handwriting and printing fill some of the pages.

Donated Blankets (x4), jerky rations replaced (x4), water bottles (x4), matches (x1 box). HTH’s do not work here. Too much static. Nails and hammers needed for repair to library flooring.

Cramped writing, sprawling letters, so distinct and so personal. You keep flipping until you come upon last December 25th’s entry.

All I want for Christmas is to not be living in the apocalypse.

You smirk and turn the page back, finding the same handwriting a few months prior.

Who wants to go skiing?

Your smirk turns into a small giggle before you turn back to almost two years ago, eyes alighting on a longer entry that wipes the amusement from your face.

Infectected spotted near Weston’s Pharmacy during AM patrol. One woman; Bloater, one child; Stalker. Both shot and killed. No injuries to patrol members.

You wince as you read this just as Joel trudges down the steps. He must be finished with repairs. You watch as he grabs some of the feed for the horses from his bag and leaves without saying a word. He reappears moments later, shaking the snow irritated from his broad shoulders.

"S'really comin' down,” he murmurs as the two of you take your places at the table. He pushes your sandwich and thermos towards you across the table, sitting in the opposite chair and sighing.

"I like the snow," you murmur as you chew thoughtfully, eyes turned skyward out the window. 

"Won't like it when we have to ride back in it," Joel huffs between bites. He chews aggressively as if the universe conjured up the snow just to personally upset him. 

He's right though, riding back in it doesn't seem very fun. Lunch is a quick thing, both of you quiet before Joel tosses back a swig of his coffee and tells you he's going to fix up some loose boards upstairs.

You don't offer to help because you know there's not a chance he'll want it. Besides, your job is to be on lookout when he does repairs in case the sound draws attention. You finish your lunch, draining your thermos of its hot chocolate. You’re feeling the chill extra strong today.

Joel reappears not too long after hoisting his gun over his back. You look at him in curiosity because Joel looks like he's getting himself ready to leave. 

"You stay here, understand? Have your gun out, go stand watch." 

Everything in you goes rigid. Years of carefully anticipating the changing moods of your captors gives you a sixth sense, like rumbling thunder announcing a storm. 

Danger. 

"Why?"

"I'm gonna go check out the other buildings on foot," he explains in a quiet rasp. "See if the Raiders rumor was true." 

"Okay, I'll come with-"

"No." 

His voice is low and sharp, broaching no argument. You stare at him, gaze traveling between his endless eyes, blinking rapidly a moment. 

"I need you here coverin' me from that window"

He points to the southern window you were posted at last time. You nod at first before something stops you. You're not good with a gun, not yet. Especially at far distances. And Joel knows it. 

You don't mention this fact. Joel knows better than anyone that your shooting skills leave much to be desired. This is busy work. 

"But what if something happens to you?"

Joel's eyes sweep your face. 

"You're gonna hide." Joel starts for the bottom of the stairs, hand on the dusty railing. "Come with me." 

You follow him quietly, both sets of boots pounding the old wood steps as he leads you to one of the smaller rooms you don't often visit. 

It's cramped with peeling wallpaper and extra lumber and nails. It must be the storage room for such things. You notice the cord hanging from the center of the ceiling. 

Joel reaches up and grabs hold of it, tugging until it opens the hatch that lets down a wooden ladder. It's like the attic from your house when you were a kid. 

"Reinforced it after the window last week so I know it's sturdy," Joel informs you, dragging a thumb along the ladders edge. "You hear anything that sounds like yelling or guns n' you climb up this ladder and use the rope to pull it up after you." 

You tell yourself to be calm. That this won't happen. That Joel is an excellent shot. But you've seen too much in this world to live in that fantasy. 

"What if they find it?"

"You keep quiet and blow their fucking head off when they climb up. It's your best option.... Your only option."

"Why wouldn't I go to the horses? Escape that way?"

"If I'm dead, trust me you won't be able to outrun ‘em. Your best bet is to lay low until a search party comes the next day." 

"Okay." 

"I'm gonna leave this pulled down.”

Then he's going downstairs again, making sure you know exactly where to stand at the window so that you're covered by the majority of the shutters' frame. You nod, listening intently as you gaze at him. The thick chord of his neck, the way his shoulders make him look formidable. 

Is this the last time you'll ever see Joel Miller alive? 

You don't like that sensation that accompanies such a concept. Ellie would be without a father. The girl has already been through enough. 

"But nothing will happen, right?"

Joel pauses, dark eyes scanning your face. He must see something in it because his voice holds no malice. 

"Nothing bad will happen." 

You don't believe him. You don't like the way his eyes dart over your face, like he's trying to look for something. 

"Do you understand everything I've told you?"

You nod. 

"If you hear a gunshot you climb up into that attic." 

"But-"

"Say it," Joel commands, the patience is slowly ebbing from his voice. 

"Okay."

"You'll do what I say?"

"Yes. If I hear a gunshot or a scream I'll go up to the attic. I'll be quiet and if I have to I'll shoot them when they come up the ladder. Otherwise I wait for the search party."

"Good girl."

He says it brusquely as he brushes past you and down the stairs. You don't have time to ask him anything else because he's already at the front door. 

He casts one look at you over his shoulder, confusing you with his stare before the door shuts behind him. 

And now you’re alone in this crumbling building. A sitting duck if Joel is captured or worse, killed.

You wanted to stay on patrols. You wanted this you fucking fool. 

You ready yourself at the window, watching as the tall figure of Joel makes his way through the snow. His curls float around his head in the wind and you feel a pang of anxiety at the thought of them splattered with his blood.

You watch the surrounding area for any movement and for once you think this is what you need to be doing. This is what you're good at. This is what you trained for in all those years entering abandoned buildings and scouring old barns for The Group.  

You can keep Joel safe.

There is no movement aside from his tall frame, and yet you still keep your gun raised, cocked and ready should you need it to be used. The snow makes it difficult though. Flakes are getting heavy and puffy, making it hard, but not impossible, to track Joel. 

You watch his long muscled legs work their way across the terrain, gun raised, body poised for attack. You marvel at how even from where you watch him high above he still gives a feeling of protector, of big. Of safe.

Soon enough Joel's frame moves behind the pharmacy, out of your eye line and you exhale slowly. 

He didn't say where he was going or for how long. An easy oversight, but in moments like this it feels unforgivable. 

Ten minutes go by.

Then twenty.

Then thirty. 

As you watch out the window with your gun poised you can't help but marvel at how quickly snow is blanketing the ground. Joel's tracks in the snow have long been covered up. 

When lightning steals across the sky and thunder booms loudly you feel it in your bones.

Thundersnow.

You’d heard some of the Wyoming long timers around town mention it at the Bison a few weeks back, but you’ve never actually witnessed it yourself. It’s surreal to see the snow drifting heavily as lightning cracks again.

The wind is picked up as well, whipping around the nearby trees. And yet you stand there like a statue, your gun aimed. It's only when you hear the distant whinny of one of the horses that you feel your heart leap to your throat. 

Chestnut. Midnight. 

In this weather they'll be suffering. Maybe even killed. You'd been so distracted by keeping vigilant over Joel that you hadn't even cast a second thought to them. Your body instinctively steps back from the window, eyes scanning over your shoulder.

He told you not to move. 

But he didn't know it was going to be a blizzard like this. 

You wrap the scarf around your neck and lower half of your face, stumbling out the door with your gun in front of you. You’ll be fast. You’ll bring the horses in and be back to the window before Joel ever realizes.

You sink into the snow easily; it comes just above your mid-calf over your boots. And it doesn't show signs of stopping any soon. It's so high that it immediately begins to seep into your boots, wetting your socks. 

You feel as if you're waiting through quicksand. But it doesn't stop you and your dogged pursuit to reach the two animals huddled together under the tree. They shake aggressively, trying to avoid the falling flakes.

Snow blankets the two along their back and their manes. You watch Midnight give a particularly aggressive jerk of his head only to have more flakes accumulate from the swollen sky above. They morph into icy rain pelting down the back of your neck, your cheeks and your shoulders.

The horses are pulling at their reins and rearing up on their back legs as you approach. 

"It's okay," you try to soothe, likely unheard over the storm. You reach your hand towards Chestnut’s bridle but he rears back at the clap of lightning that hits the sky at the same time.

“Chestnut it’s me! Calm down boy!”

You nearly scream when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You spin, aiming your gun shakily in front of you.

"S'me," the figure informs you. He pulls down his dark scarf and Joel's irritated expression is revealed. 

"You scared me."

He doesn't answer this, simply grabs Midnight by his bridle and gives a sharp click of his tongue. Midnight struggles at first, but ultimately relents, trailing after Joel like an obedient child. 

You quickly untie the slippery reigns from around the tree, attempting to tug at a very frightened Chestnut along. He comes down from his hind legs but his eyes are spooked. You slip in the wet snow, falling to your knees and hissing in pain. You grit your teeth, standing and attempting to pull Chestnut again.

"S'okay," you soothe, pulling him gently. He fights you, head twisting and the lightning cracks the sky. "Chestnut - C'mon-"

A sharp clap of thunder has him trying to pull from your grasp. You cry out as the reign rasps brutally around your knuckles. 

"Chestnut! Stop!" You shout, panicking as the horse continues to jerk away from you.  

Joel is back, his boots kicking against the deep snow. You feel him brush against your shoulder, large hand covering yours. 

"Give 'em here," he grunts, taking the reins from you and tugging forcefully. "C'mon, C'mon, get goin'."

Chestnut whinnies terrified and you back up as his hooves shoot out anxiously. Joel grunts again before his fist jerks the reign brutally. 

"Enough!"

Chestnut responds to this, eyes going to Joel and cowering. You watch in amazement as Chestnut bows his head, following after Joel with no more hesitation or defiance. 

The three of you head into the outpost building, dripping with wet snow as you enter. Midnight is in the main room staggering at the side. Joel shifts his hand and urges Chestnut to follow, closing the door behind you as you enter. 

"Sometimes you gotta be rough to get ‘em to listen," Joel explains, handing the reins off to you. "S'the only way to keep ‘em safe." 

You don't know that you agree with that assessment. You unhook the reigns from Chestnut before pressing a soft kiss to his twitching muzzle. You whisper soothing words, waiting for your dear horse to stop his shaking.

"We'll leave ‘em in here for tonight," Joel says to them before looking over at you. You’re shivering, eyes wide. You must look a fright as you cast a wide-eyed look around the room.

“The door is locked right?”

“’Course.”

You both breathe heavily a moment, your eyes on his red cheeks.  

"Did you see anything?" 

"Nothin'," Joel informs you, shaking the flakes off his shoulder angrily. "Even if there was someone there's no fucking way to see 'em in this mess." 

You're still shivering as you nod at him, following him up the windy creaking steps to the large former Library. Joel disappears into the logbook room and appears with a plastic box matches. You stand shivering and watching him kneeling in front of the hearth, using his pocket knife to make kindling and before long a fire begins. 

"S'only good thing about this weather," Joel mutters to the hearth. "No one'll see the smoke."

His broad back ripples as he shoulders of his soaked jacket. It lands onto the wood floor with a plop. You watch as he kneels there, urging the flames to lick up into the kindling, blowing gently to get it to catch. You’re hypnotized at his acumen for this, as if he were meant to live out on the land. He loads the dry lumber over the now crackling flame before letting out a tired sigh.

"I told you not to leave."

You swallow, needing him to know that it wasn't insolence or even defiance that made you leave. 

"I know, but the horses-"

Joel isn't listening to you; he's loading more wood into the hearth shaking his head in poorly concealed frustration. 

"You don't fuckin' listen to me."

"I do so," you insist to the back of his head. "I just didn't today because there was something more important."

He stands, knees cracking and fixes you with a stern look. Just like that it's back to the old dynamic. Him like a dark black blanket over your body. Weighting you down with his effortless dominance

"I had it handled."

"How could I know that? I didn't see you."

"Patrol partners need to trust one another. That's why this ain't workin'."

At his words something clicks in your brain and the answer to your earlier question is so fucking obvious you’re embarrassed you didn’t put two and two together earlier.

"It was you who told Tommy to take me off patrols, wasn't it?"

Joel is silent, jaw set, left thumb and forefinger pressing together so tightly the tips go white. 

"You had no fucking right to do that." You sniffle angrily, wrapping your damp jacket around your shoulders. "You go on about trust and you're the one going behind my back trying to get me kicked off."

"You shouldn't be out here," Joel insists. He sucks at his teeth.

"You don't get to say what I do."

"You're here ain't you? Doesn't matter what I say." 

"You're such a-"

Joel's eyes flash and his hand is held between you, almost like you're a wild animal he's trying to hold at bay. But you think it’s the opposite.

"Don't," Joel warns voice barely above a whisper. "Don't start that." 

Something in his voice terrifies you as much as it enrages you. So when hot tears prick the back of your eyes you're not sure which is the cause. 

"Do you just hate me that much, Joel?"

You despise how small your voice sounds. Joel huffs a sigh, eyes closing briefly. 

"S'not about that."

"What is it then?" 

He just shakes his head and strides away from you towards the log room. You follow at his heels like a needy puppy. You push your soaked hair from your eyes, feeling your wet clothing weighting you down as you pursue him.

"Joel."

He ignores you, long legs carrying him quicker, boots scraping the floor.

"Why don't you want me on patrols?"

He begins to pull down one of the boxes from the shelving ignoring you. 

"Answer me, please.”

It's not until you reach out a hand and grab his shoulder that he spins abruptly as if you've burnt him. He doesn't touch you; he just shakes off your hand and fixes you with a level stare that has you stepping back. Your feet slip in your boots and you realize you must look a sight, soaked to the skin, eyes red and chin wobbling.

Joel tilts his neck down, making sure to hold your gaze with his own.

"After all that shit you went through with those people? Why the fuck woul-"

He stops himself, the next word bit back, his eyes on the ground. The silence expands as understanding blooms in your face. You feel your jaw crack, eyes narrowing.

"You spied on me when I was talking to Ellie."

"S'a house, not a fucking football field," Joel sneers. "Sound carries."

Before you can say anything more you shiver. Despite the warmth of the fire in the next room you feel the chill of the damp creeping into your bones. Joel observes this and with a head tilt encourages you to follow him into the storage room.

You find yourself too exhausted to badger him further about patrols. Nothing will change in the next twenty four hours. So you follow in close pursuit, watching as he goes to one of the shelves and pulls out a duffel bag. Inside are two blankets, a few bottles of water and some rations. 

"Strip and put this on," Joel says pulling out and then shoving a blanket at you. You take it into your arms gratefully before belatedly hearing what he told you.  

Strip? 

"Unless you feel like catching a cold. Be my guest," Joel adds when you hesitate. He takes the duffel and heads into another room, slamming the door behind him. 

You go into the bathroom, the door creaking shut.

You're completely soaked from head to toe. It feels like you've had a freezing bath. And yet you hesitate a full minute before you realize that if you keep these clothes on there's a very good chance you're going to get seriously ill. And while Jackson City had a lot of amenities. antibiotics are always in short supply. 

You strip hurriedly, your fingers shaking with cold. Your hair is squeezed and excess water circles the old sink. The clothing is squeezed as well as you try to wring out as much of the damp as possible.

You think about keeping your panties on because the thought of being completely bare under the blanket around Joel is far too daunting. But then the option of freezing in soaking under things doesn't seem like a better option. 

The blanket is warm and when wrapped around you shoulders it hits you mid-calf. If you tuck it between your legs is almost like wearing a toga. You do, wrapping it so that only your arms and bottom of your legs poke out. You have the passing wonder if this is one of the blankets Jennifer made during her times in textiles.

You bring your clothes out with you, padding over barefoot to the large fireplace Joel has already begun stoking. He wears the blanket similar to you, tucked tightly around his broad frame. But one arm is out, the muscles glinting in the warmth of the fire’s glow.

"We don't normally do this," Joel explains, always in teacher mode. "Don't wanna attract attention. But desperate times n' all that."

You hang your clothes over a chair from the supply room and drag it towards the fireplace as Joel's dark eyes dart to see what you're up to. 

"I was gonna put ‘em by the fire to dry," you explain. "You want me to wring yours out too?"

"Nah, I'll do mine," Joel replies. There's no snark left, his attention is fixed on the fire that's building there. You’re both just too tired to be prickly with one another.

A quick glance out the window confirms that the snow is still falling. So you're stuck for at least a couple more hours.

Great.

"Fuck that feels good," you say dropping to your knees and holding your palms to the fire. Joel's eyes swim over you before he fixes them on the roaring flames. His eyes are so dark they showcase the bright embers when you glance at them. 

Everything is cold and damp. Your feet are numb from the snow and you hiss when the circulation begins in them again. Joel goes to wring out his clothes, bringing them back with another chair and propping it beside yours.

Joel drags the couch close to the fireplace, setting it down with a groan as his knees creak before collapsing onto it with a grunt. It looks more comfortable than kneeling on the floor and so you join him.

You knee brushes his as you take your seat, the fabric of the quilts rasping against one another. You try not to be offended when Joel jerks his knee away from you. 

You get it. He doesn't like you. Can't stand to be around you if there's not another person as a buffer. But does he have to be so immature about it? You have a moment of concern when you think of your last buffer, Ellie.  

"Will Ellie be okay tonight?"

"Yeah, Tommy'll make sure she is until I get back."

"How does he know when you'll be back?"

"He doesn't." Joel stokes the fire absently with a nearby stick. "When we don't come back at our usual time they'll usually give it a few hours and then come looking for us."

"Usually?"

"With a storm like this? They won't make it far. They'll figure we hit the same and're hunkered down somewhere. If we aren't back by tomorrow afternoon and the snow is clear then they'll send a group out. S'protocol."

"Oh."

The two of you lapse into quiet contemplation as the crackling fire sounds.

The house feels so big and with the sun going down it feels almost frightening. You’ve never been in this place in the dark. You don’t like how open the room is, how many shadows and walls exist. You miss your little home with its plain walls and minimal walls. You fantasize about how a bath would feel so luxurious at this moment.

You sniffle again, burying your face into the blanket a moment to warm it. The fire is definitely helping, but you wish it was bigger and the room less drafty.

Joel isn’t saying anything but he’s not scowling like he usually is when you glance over at him.

"Is Ellie doing any more baking?"

"Nope. Think she's more partial to just eatin'."

“Sounds like her,” you smile before pausing and adding:  “Your pastries were good.”

Joel hums a response and emboldened by his openness you continue.

“I didn’t know you baked.”

“I don’t. Just followed the recipe you had on the counter.”

“Oh.”

Joel doesn't try to extend the conversation so you fall silent again as you go back to the floor and move closer to the fire. The flames warm your cheeks and your front. A cool drop of water runs down your spine under the blanket and you shudder.

You kneel a bit closer to the fire and gingerly move your hair over one shoulder, trying to dry it the best you can. As you do you feel the blanket slip down over your back, exposing your neck  down to your shoulder blade. You hurriedly pull your quilt back up over your shoulder, heart pounding.  

"M'gonna check the horses."

Joel lurches up from the couch, not waiting for your reply. You don't watch him go, finding you don't care to see his sullen expression. You're not sure which is worse, the ‘rude but communicative when needed’ Joel or this strange withdrawn creature that's replaced him. 

Joel is gone for a little while. Much longer than it takes to check on the horses, but you don't mind. You like having a bit of quiet to fall under the spell of the flickering flames. 

You wonder what Jennifer would think of this, being stuck in an isolated space with Joel overnight. 

She'd be in heaven. 

You smirk at this, knowing she'd take full advantage of the situation. Probably flutter her lashes and let the blanket slip open ever so slightly, giving Joel a flash of breast before faking modesty.  It would work, you're certain of it. Joel strikes you as someone who likes the soft curves of a woman, perhaps because of what Maria said. 

You can't wait to return home tomorrow. To have coffee in Jennifer's cheery house and update her on any and all Joel lore you uncover. It won't be much judging by his conversational skills so far. But you will be able to report that Joel Miller has very nice calves. You saw a flash of them when he got up.

Jennifer will have a field day with that information; she probably won't leave her bed for a week. 

Joel returns eventually, his eyes refusing to meet yours. He comes back with the remaining two blankets from the duffel, throwing one over your legs.  He sits on the far end of the couch, warming himself with the second blanket over himself. You tuck yourself on the other end, the two of you quiet as you watch the fire. 

You think about ancient times when all creatures had was fire and an open sky to pass the time. When the air was free of chemicals and the landscape open instead of crowded with infrastructure. You wonder what they would make of your world now. Would they secretly cheer that nature has slowly begun to reclaim its earth? 

Time passes and soon enough the sky through the window grows dark and the air grows colder. You start to shiver slightly and Joel adds more lumber to the fire. You think back to last week when you’d all had those brownies to share. You think back to this morning with your hot chocolate.  

"Wish I didn't drink all my hot chocolate," you sniff with a sigh as you burrow back on the creaking sofa. You're not saying it for pity, more just to fill the quiet. 

"We have some coffee left," Joel offers.

You’re surprised when he moves to grab the Thermos from his bag next to him beside the couch. You can't help but notice how muscular his bare arms are when he does. You take it from him, eyes on his large hand.

"Thanks," you reply, taking a small sip.

Even though you don’t drink coffee often you don't want to waste it. It warms you and the jerky he hands you along with it moments later makes the encroaching hunger fade. Joel takes the Thermos back from you, also taking a ginger sip before twisting on the cap and sighing. 

"I miss real coffee."

Joel never talks about the past, not really. Never about his life before this. You've had to stitch his back-story together with patches of information gathered over your time and interactions with Ellie. 

So this little glimmer, this tiny piece of him sticks out to you. It rattles in your bones and burrows deep in your brain. 

I miss real coffee.

"The stuff they make in the dining hall doesn't do it for you?" You prompt, wanting him to share more, finding that you're desperate for a little more Joel. 

"That's not real coffee," Joel scoffs. "That's instant shit. It all is."

You've never had real coffee either so you don't know if the derision is warranted. You’d always been a tea drinker yourself. You watch him slurp back the contents of his thermos while your mind is a million miles away. 

Coffee. Joel likes coffee. Real Coffee. Joel drinking coffee. Real Coffee. 

Did Joel go to cafes? Did he go to Starbucks and sit reading? Did he drink coffee with silly names and lots of whipped cream? Did women blush and stammer when a young Joel slid by them to grab cream or sugar? 

You imagine a world before this one. One where you could have met in a cafe. Bumped into each other as you both reached for a cup. Classic meet cute. Then you remember this is Joel Miller. He would have scowled at you and told you to get your own coffee. The thought amuses you. 

Soon enough the combination of the warm drink and the stress of the day gets to you. Your eyes begin to drift shut, your head slowly falling forward before you catch yourself. Joel must notice this because he clears his throat. 

“We’ll take turns on watch,” Joel informs you. “You sleep first, I’ll get next. We’ll do four hour switches.”

“Okay.”

You don’t ask why you need to be on watch during a storm. You trust that Joel is right about it. Joel may be an asshole, but he’s an educated one. And so far during everything he has not let you down. He has been rough, he has been unpleasant but he has been there through it all. Joel Miller will protect you. You don’t know why tonight is when you decide this is true, but you do.

You burrow into your blankets, thankful for them.  It’s not exactly warm, but it does the job. You still feel a little strange cuddled there completely bare underneath. It makes it hard to get comfortable and fall asleep but you eventually do.

You wake up what feels like no time at all later. Your hair is partially dried and the fire is still going steadily. You blink down your body to see you’ve stretched out on the couch, your feel practically against Joel’s thigh.

He’s staring into the fire, a flask in one hand and the other over your ankle buried under the blanket. You don’t think he even realizes that your foot is there. When you start to shift his hand moves to his thigh, his dark eyes blinking over at you.

“Not been four hours.”

“Tell that to my body,” you say wryly. “Any more coffee left?”

“Nah.”

Between the blankets and the fire you shouldn’t feel this cold, should you? You glance over when you see Joel handing the silver flask out towards you.

“What’s that?”

“Whiskey. It’ll make you feel warm.”

“Where’d you find that?”

“My bag.”

You smile gently before you shift back into a seated position on the couch, wincing at the muscle pull in your neck from sleeping at such an awkward angle. You take the flask with a polite nod of your head. 

“Thank you.”

You take the flask from him before bringing it gingerly to your lips. You take a deep pull from it, wincing when the astringent alcohol hits your tongue. 

"Strong," you mumble. 

But you’re delighted when you feel it scorch a warm trail from your throat all the way to your belly. You take another sip before screwing the top back on. Joel watches this, his features relaxed. You wonder if he isn’t a little drunk.

"How'd he get you outta there?"

His voice is a husky rasp, his mouth barely moving as he murmurs this at you. You take a moment to try and process what he’s asking you.

"Huh? Who?"

"Chi guy,” Joel says taking the flask back from you and taking a long pull. “You were in a group ‘a Raiders. Something tells me they wouldn't just let their best shot and their trusty bait walk off into the sunset together." 

He hands the flask back to you and you take another sip. Minutes tick by and you’re not answering his first question, so you suppose Joel decides on another angle.

"The two of you fuck?"

You turn your head to face Joel, surprised.  He’s got a strange expression on his face, his lids heavy, waiting for you response.

"Yeah.”

Joel takes the flask from you, holding it there in his palms, not drinking, just staring into the flames. "You like it?"

You shoot daggers at him. "Yes." 

You're not lying. You did enjoy your times with Chiyo. While there wasn't a romantic aspect, you definitely felt taken care of during those times together.

Joel nods, lower lip protruding as he takes another pull of the flask. You’re thankful to him for bringing it

“How much did you hear of what I told Ellie?”

“Enough.” Joel swallows thickly.

The alcohol warms your veins and your belly and you start to relax.

"Did that Group.... Try things with you?"

It takes you a minute to parse what he's not saying out loud. 

"No," you shake your head. "The women in the group were territorial that way. Besides they didn't see me like a person. More like a dog. They never spoke to me unless it was to order me around or feed me whatever leftovers they had. Kept me chained up at night so I couldn't escape."

Joel’s eye tics just a fraction as he listens to you.  And for some reason whether it be the intimacy of sitting there with him before a fire or the whiskey working through your veins, you decide to share with Joel.

You think because he’s one of the few people who won’t pity you for it.

“So The Group… that’s what I called them. I never really learned their names. There were three men, two women. They had me with then for a few years. I was obedient for the most part because by the end I didn’t care if I lived or died. I did what they said and they weren’t kind to me, but they didn’t make me suffer as much as they could’ve. They took me to the bathroom, let me shower when there was time. But they never spoke to me directly unless it was to order me around.”

Joel is completely still, and the only movement comes from the shadow of the flames reflected in his dark eyes. You find you can’t look into them, instead finding the space between your bodies on the couch to do the job just fine. You tell the little patch of green your story.

"Wherever we stayed we always slept together in the same room.  They said it was for safety but I know they just did it to keep an eye on everyone. The only one who was chained up at night was me. I was the bait after all. Chiyo was chained up for the first few months but he was a likeable guy. He earned their trust through action. He was a good shot and they liked having him around.”

You swallow.

“Well, in the last place the toilets didn’t work so there was an outhouse out back so Chiyo told me that he had a plan. He suggested they celebrate the hunting of the day with a little booze they had stashed in the supply bags. They were all for it. They chained me up and I just sat there watching them get drunker and drunker.  After a few hours most of ‘em were passed out.”

You shift under the blankets, finding that you’re not really feeling the cold at all.

“So I did what Chi had told me. I told them I had to go to the bathroom. Chi was pretending to be drunk and he said that he would take me to the outhouse to make sure I didn’t get up to anything. They were so drunk I don’t even know if they heard us leave after he unchained me.”

Joel is still silent, still attentively listening. You wonder if this is all boring to him. If he’s seen much worse.

“So we go to the outhouse. Chi grabs the gun, I follow him back but he makes me stay outside the bedroom. He tells me that I shouldn’t see what’s going to happen. I wanted to help, but he insisted and I was in no position to fight him on it.”

You close your eyes, replaying the moment.

“So I stood there outside the door and I listened to him shoot each one in the head. Some of them were already passed out. One tried to fight back but like I said, Chi was a great shot. They didn’t stand a chance. Then we packed up and we left.”

You can still see it. The flash of blood and brain on the walls as Chi exited. The slumped over bodies as he tugged your wrist, urging you to follow him.

When your eyes open again Joel is offering you the flask. You take it gratefully, taking a ginger sip before handing it back. You don’t know what else to say, even as Joel rests his heavy gaze on you.

"You think less of him for it?"

"For killing the people that wouldn't even flinch if they had to kill me?" You scoff. "Not at all. I wish he'd hung them by their feet over a pit of ravenous clickers. Had them piss themselves in fear. I wish they could have seen their loved ones bit. I wish they could have watched as everything was taken from them and then I wish he’d slit their throats so they’d take longer to die."

You know that Joel is staring at you and it's likely because he's never seen this side to you. This ugly, twisted, hateful side that you try to keep hidden.  This side that you soften under baked goods and paper flowers.

"Chi was right though about not letting me help him kill them," you confess quietly. “I’m not built for it.”

Joel is quiet, his body so still you think he’s gone rigid.

"He got bit not long before I got to the next QZ,” you explain. “And I couldn’t let him turn into one of those things.”

If Joel is surprised by your admission about Chiyo's death he makes no mention of it, his features remain stoic, his dark eyes moving back to the fire. You wish you could make sense of his expression, but you can’t, you don’t know him well enough.

“I still have nightmares about killing him and I don’t think those’ll ever go away,” you murmur to the flames. “You know, I remember thinking the doe we killed on that first patrol had eyes just like him. That same glossy dark color. Looked the same when he was dead, just staring up at me." 

You don't speak much after that.

Not until a short while later when Joel’s flask is re-opened and the two of you take long pulls. The alcohol loosens you both up, you can tell in the lazy way you both lean into the couch.  

The blankets and the couch and the fire lend you a feeling of comfort, of warmth and you think that perhaps this isn’t as bad as the situation could have been. That this Joel sitting by you feels different.

“If I'd known all that stuff, I never would've.... Joel trails off, still looking into the fire. "I'd have done things different when we started patrols."

"It shouldn't take someone's traumatic history for you to treat them decently," you say, feeling emboldened by the drink.  You wait for his biting reply. 

"You're right." 

You're surprised by his easy agreement but you don't let it show. You find it hard to let a lot of how you feel show with Joel. Something in you always holds you back. 

"I think you were just so... skittery," Joel offers to the flames. "Made me nervous." 

"Oh."

As you look at him from the corner of your eyes in shock you think that when he's not scowling he's quite handsome. Strong masculine features, full lips. You can understand why Jennifer is attracted to him. 

At that errant thought your mind goes to your friend. Jennifer. This is the perfect opportunity to talk her up like she's done with you to Luke. 

"You know Jennifer was sa-"

"What’s with you and bringin’ up that Jennifer girl?" Joel cuts in, shooting you a glare. His old irritated expression is back, along with his tensed shoulders. 

"I...uh..." You weren't expecting such vitriol. He crosses his arms in front of his chest like a petulant schoolchild.

"I've talked with her a handful of times," Joel says with a huff. "And I don't like how she stares at me."

"Except I've seen how you stare at her," you shoot back with a frown, defensive of your friend. "And flirt."

"Flirt?" Joel looks beside himself. "When s'at?"

"Agreeing to drinks at the Bison after patrols last time, calling her Jenny," you list these things off with ease. "Or how about staring at her during breakfast just this morning? She caught you doing it, you know."

Joel opens his mouth to say something but then slams it shut. He goes quiet and you know he must be remembering when he did all those things. You don't fault him, Jennifer is a beautiful woman. 

"It's fine if you like her Joel, she likes you and-"

"I don't like her. I barely fuckin’ know her." He takes a swig from his flask. "I wish you'd stop bringin' her up."

"Okay. Sorry, I will."

“Good.”

Joel must be shy when it comes to crushes and you don't want to embarrass him further. 

To you Joel is a forever enigma, someone who shares so little of himself. You feel almost owed information on his romantic past, as if because he heard your story you deserve his. You don’t know if that’s a fair assessment.

“I’ve never heard you talk about a woman. Was there anyone before Jackson City?”

“Yep.”

He doesn’t expand on this and you sigh heavily through your nose. You’re irritated that you’ve shared so much with someone who obviously doesn’t care to do the same with you. Perhaps you misjudged hi-

"There was a woman back in the Boston QZ," Joel's says in a voice that goes soft. "Tess. We smuggled together."

"What was she like?"

He shifts in his seat, the blanket tightening. He looks both irritated and impossibly wounded. He doesn’t look at you directly, more the wall over your shoulder when he addresses you.

"She was always in charge," he tells you in a voice that sounds detached from him. "I was the muscle."

This surprises you. Joel seems such a natural leader, such a confident force. They can't imagine him cowing to anyone, especially a woman. 

"Did you like that?"

"I liked hurtin' people at times, yeah." 

You don't have to ask him why he liked hurting people because the answer is clear. It was better to cause pain in others when it helped distract from the gaping wound within Joel Miller in the shape of his lost daughter.

"No, I meant did you like Tess being in charge?"

"Sometimes," Joel relents. "Was nice not to have to plan and organize and everythin'. Could just exist for a bit."

You imagine Joel back in the QZ with a beautiful woman who warmed his bed and you feel a strange twisting in your stomach. She was tough. The opposite of you, you think. You're soft. Too soft for this world at times. 

"Did you guys..." You trail off, feeling strangely insecure. You shouldn't after everything he asked about you, and yet it still feels like a boundary crossed. 

He sneers at you.

"I'm a man ain’t I?" 

You don't say anything in response to that. 

Your assessment had been correct – Joel liked strong, tough women. Women like Jennifer who could be feminine but hard when they needed to be. Women like this Tess who you just know was beautiful.

The fire crackles in front of you, leaving you drowsy and almost hypnotized. It makes you momentarily forget that you and Joel aren't people who usually talk to one another. 

“Were you in love with her?”

You want to know about the woman who caught his attention, who he talks of with such reverence.

"I tried," Joel finally answers, but you can see the weight of it behind his eyes. "Couldn't give it to her in the way she wanted though."

You wish you knew what Tess looked like, what she sounded like when she laughed and if she was a good shot. You wonder if they teased each other affectionately or if it was all seriousness and hard fucking. You wonder if he fucked her mouth like did yours. You wonder if they slept together, limbs entwined, breathing even.

You feel a stab of jealousy that he had that. At least twice if the sporadic history you’ve learned of him is correct. Two women who held him, two women who loved him. A man as recalcitrant as him found two separate women to care for him. And you? What do you have?

"I don't need love," you confess to him him with a labored sigh, eyes drifting half shut sleepily. "Wouldn't know what to do with it if I had it. I just wanna be someone's only." 

"Someone’s only?"

"Like the only one they see," you explain with a yawn. "The only one they take to bed and kiss and all that stuff."

Joel makes a soft humming sound as he digests what you're saying. 

You snuggle further into the blankets, watching the fire in the hearth and wondering what it must have been like to be in this big library back when it held hundreds of books. You wonder what sort of people sat in the very room you and Joel reside in. Did they study, their eyes going blurry the longer they stared at the pages? Did they sneak off to kiss in the stacks, nervous fumbling fearful of being caught?

Libraries have their own sort of life within them after all, it’s easy to imagine the dusty floorboards and the peeling wallpaper restored to its former glory. Can almost hear the soft ‘shhhh’ of an eagle-eared librarian. The world before seems romantic and nostalgic in moments like this. 

If only you’d enjoyed it to the fullest.

Your mind drifts to the embers, red hot and pulsing. It reminds you of blood pooling in a gaping mouth.

"Joel, do you think the infected are still conscious?" 

He looks at you from the corner of his eye.

"Huh?"

"I mean, like, do you think that they're trapped in their bodies still knowing what's happening but unable to stop it?" You wince at the thought. "Not able to control their bodies but still self aware?"

"I sure fucking hope not," Joel says quietly.

"Me too. Jennifer said that th-“

You stop yourself with a sharp wince, but Joel has heard you and he rolls his eyes.

“Why're you always bringing up that Jennifer girl?"

You shrug, embarrassed. "I guess because she's like, my only friend."

"Ellie'll be devastated to hear that."

Warmth floods you at that. Ellie, your sweet little pal. The girl with the bite that puts her trust in you of all people.

"Yeah I guess she is too," you say with a rueful grin. "She must be pretty desperate to have a grown woman as a friend."

"She's discerning," Joel mutters. "She doesn't waste her time on idiots."

You think that this is as close to a compliment that Joel's ever given you outside of sexual interactions. It gives you pause. 

"I like how honest Ellie is," you offer. "It can be brutal at times, but I like that I know where I stand with her."

Joel smiles at that, a tight-lipped thing he's never offered you before. It makes you give one in return before your attention goes back to your hands in your lap.

“She sure thinks the world of you,” you offer.

“Yeah well,” Joel shrugs, embarrassed. “We’ve been through a lot.”

“Did she know Tess?”

Joel goes quiet, staring back at the fire. You worry that you’ve said the wrong thing because he’s got a hurt look in his eyes. The kind that makes the dark brown of it glossy and hard.

“Yeah. She knew Tess.”

And something in the finality of his hushed tone makes you cease in that line of questioning. His eyes sweep to you as if belatedly realizing he's shared a vulnerable part of himself and like a feral cat that hisses when they realize they've let their guard down, Joel straightens. 

"I've had too much of this," he says handing you the flask. You're surprised when you can feel it's still half full. "You should go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when your shift starts.”

"Okay."

You put the flask on the floor, looking into the fire before shifting onto your side, curling within the blankets. You gaze down over your hip to see Joel staring into the space in front of him and you realize that this is perhaps one of the only times you’ll be able to really talk to Joel.

And there’s a big, big question that’s been lingering in your subconscious for weeks now. One that you could never have brought up if not for this sense of camaraderie.  

“Joel, why did you stop wanting to do stuff on patrols?”

You don’t know why but you need to ask him this. You’ve gone through the scenarios countless times trying to understand. The thought that you did something wrong, the thought that perhaps Joel got bored of you is what you’ve landed on, but you want to hear it.

He shifts again on the couch, his back cracking. He licks at his lower lip, hands bracing against his thighs. It’s clear he’s uncomfortable with the topic, but you can’t find it in yourself to let it go.

“Did I do something wrong that day?”

“No,” Joel says quickly. “Just thought it was a distraction.”

“Oh.”

You don’t really believe that. But you suppose it could be true. You are here to do a job after all, not suck him off. You exhale slowly through your nose as you think back to that final day, his thumb in your mouth and his eyes on your face. You think of how it felt to have your mouth full of him and that blissful sensation of quiet that came along with it.

“I miss doing it.”

It comes from you in a breathy sigh, a quiet thing said to the air in front of you. But its loud in the silent room and it makes your eyes pop open.

Did Joel hear that?

You close your eyes then, your cheeks heating because there's a hesitation, a silence. You cringe, feeling as though you've fucked this up this gentle alliance. Joel was so forthcoming with you and now he’s gone radio silent because you just said the stupidest thing possible.

You shake your head internally, bracing yourself for Joel’s mockery or derision.

There’s the feeling of the couch dipping and when you crack open your eyes Joel's muscular frame is moving towards you. The blanket has fallen to his hips, leaving his torso visible.

You sit up, suddenly intimidated by his broad frame and muscular stature. His eyes scan over your body hidden in the blankets. He takes in your braced pose, the way you’re almost wary of him as he moves over to you.

"Lay back.”

You look at his eyes reflecting the flames licking up the hearth. It's almost as hypnotic as his husky voice. 

“What’re you-“

“I said lay back.”

His voice is stern but without its usual malice. He’s giving you an order and he’s expecting you to follow it. You remember the first day you met him.

I'm the one who gives orders. Not you.

You feel your pulse start to tick as the two of you lock eyes and its like everything in the world falls away. The whistle of the wind, the crackle of the fire, the thrum of your heart. Nothing is left save for your shallow breathing.  

You tilt backwards, your arms securing your blanket tightly around your torso. You wonder if he’s going to fuck your mouth in this position. Or perhaps he’s just going to touch himself over you. Both thoughts have you pressing your thighs together tightly.  You’re head is perched on the edge of the sofa arm, watching him.

Joel’s eyes dip to your waist and he confuses you when his long fingers slide to the blanket laying overtop you. He says nothing, just pushes the blanket up your waist, exposing you to him in the firelight. Goose bumps ripple over your flesh but not from the cold.

 “Joel-“

His eyes never leave your face, but you feel his fingers brush over your bare thigh. The blanket toga you fashioned has come undone and you flinch as he moves his calloused hand over your skin, thumb grazing the crease between your thigh and hip. The air feels strangely heavy as Joel’s knuckles graze your slick entrance.

It feels so good.

Your hips jolt before you force them to still, your body supine before him. Joel tilts his head slightly, gazing at your exposed cunt with what almost looks like affection.

“She always this wet?"

The way he speaks is so vulgar but his tone is so soothing that it creates a strange dichotomy within your brain. It leaves you dumbstruck, able only to give a brief shake of your head in response. 

Joel sweeps the tip of his tongue over his plush lower lip, wetting it. 

"S'for me?" 

You still can't answer; your throat feels sealed shut as he keeps his gaze fixed between your legs. But your silence and pink cheeks are their own kind of damning confession. 

Joel says nothing more but there's a touch of amusement in his look that's not lost on you. It makes you tilt your face to the side, not wanting to show more of your hand. 

Joel shifts, removing his hand from your body. You immediately miss the warmth, eyes snapping down the length of you to watch in quiet fascination as Joel shrugs off the blanket over his shoulders. 

You swallow again, your own blanket raised to just below your eyes. You can't help but exhale softly at the sight of him. 

Joel's body is a beautiful gold color. There are a few scars that curve along his flesh, a particularly jagged one along the right side under his ribs. He's broad and muscular and so masculine with his strong features and stronger body. 

One of the blankets remains slung loosely around his middle, allowing you a brief vision of dark hair below his navel leading under the quilt before he curves forward. His wide hands come to slide up over your knees, gliding to your thighs and then back down again. He does this several times, his eyes watching the ascent of his touch as you pant softly.

His hands come to glide up your thighs again, thumbs coming to trace the soft inner skin there. You feel as his strong grip begins to urge your legs to part and in a panic your thighs slap together.  You see the flash of his glittering eyes snap to your face.

"Open.”

When you don't immediately acquiesce you feel his thumbs tracing small circles on the inner skin of your thigh, not moving an inch from where he kneels half curled over you. His touch is setting of strange vibrations through your body, ones that make it hard to catch your breath. 

“Open.”

He repeats it and the timbre of his voice is sweet and sticky like syrup. A coaxing thing that silently promises it’ll be worth it if you do.  He waits, not moving an inch as you decide.

Finally after a moment’s deliberation you give a shuddering breath before your legs fall open on either side of him, exposing you in a completely new way as you hear him inhale slowly.

You feel like your entire body is on fire not only from embarrassment but from this overwhelming sizzling ache in your core. This strange desire that makes it impossible to think clearly. To remind you that you don’t really like Joel as a person. To remind you that Joel doesn’t enjoy your company.

But it doesn’t matter because Joel is moving to rest prone on the couch between your legs with a grunt. He props himself up on his elbows and goes to push the blanket over your hips higher but you tense. He must register this because his hands slide back, his mouth set in a firm line of patience. 

One wide palm slips between your legs, gentle fingers grazing over your mound. The sensation is soothing, almost bordering on ticklish. You feel your body eventually relaxing, eyes drifting shut. Joel makes a quiet sound of what you think is approval. 

You don't know how long this lasts for, but you soon find yourself boneless, lulled by Joel's shockingly delicate touch. Your arms which had been glued over your chest now relax, rising over your head over the arm of the couch. 

You feel yourself drifting off, unsure of when Joel went from someone who terrified you to a man whose fingers are slowly dancing up the seam of your pussy. He feels so soft and gentle right now and you let him maneuver you however he wants.  He must feel you relax in his grip because the soft drag of his fingers now slides between the seam of your sex.

Two thick fingers slowly spread the glossy lips of your pussy, brushing your straining clit in the process. Joel’s gaze is fixed there, almost as if he’s marveling at how wet you are. You shudder gently at his intense scrutiny, noting that Joel's eyes flick to yours when you do. You breathe shallowly, eyes wide and mouth parted.

Joel lowers his mouth to where his fingers still hold you open. With his dark eyes fixed on you,  he gives a slow, languid lick of his flattened tongue over your clit. The sight and sensation causes you to immediately jolt, pleasure tearing through your middle. 

Joel Miller’s mouth is between your legs.

You still can’t quite comprehend that this is happening to you. Goose bumps rise up all over your body, every sense quivering with arousal. Joel isn’t smirking, but it almost feels like he could be when you swallow thickly.

"He ever do this?” he rumbles. “Your friend?"

He says friend like others would say asshole.

"N-no," you say with a fluttering of your pulse. "Never had time."

"But there was time to suck his cock," Joel says with derision clear in his voice. “Time to ride him?”

You want to defend your old friend and point out the irony considering the past you and Joel share, but then his mouth is back there between your legs and all words leave you.

With his soulful eyes closing, Joel repeats the previous action with his tongue once, twice and then a third lingering time that has you grunting in the back of your throat, hips rolling against his mouth.

He pulls his mouth off you slightly and in the low firefight you see the web of saliva and slick that join his tongue to your cunt. It's lascivious and obscene and you feel as fresh arousal gathers there just at the sight.  

You feel exposed, suddenly vulnerable with his mouth between your thighs. You go to close them but Joel's eyes snap open to scorch a blazing path up at you.

Obey. 

Despite him saying nothing out loud, you swallow, nodding. He seems satisfied because he gives your clit a soft lave that makes you swallow a groan. You have a moment of confusion, wondering why he’s doing this all of a sudden.

"Joel I -"

"I like doin' this," he tells you almost frustrated at your sudden discomfort. "So just let me." 

You watch as he slides his hands beneath the back of your legs, urging them to rise. You go limp, curious when he maneuvers your legs over his broad shoulders, hinging at the knee.

His mouth is level with your pussy now, more easily accessible and this seems to please him before Joel's lips begin to kiss slowly over pussy, making out with it in a way your mouth has never felt.

You have no desire for the pleasure to stop.

You feel his lips sponging along your mound before the fingers holding you open spread you further, allowing him to probe deeply with the thick muscle of his tongue, making the most deliciously vulgar wet sound as he does. His nose grazes your clit as he does this, fucking you with his tongue and teasing your clit.

You nearly capitulate off the sofa at that sensation. The deep thrust of his tongue twisting within your sopping core as you huff out little whines while the plush pout of his lips working against the dripping between your legs. 

He breathes heavily through his nose, not wanting to break the connection of his mouth on your cunt as he gazes at you. He sees the way your head tilts back, the way your thighs slightly turn inward. He holds your hips down, thumbs absently stroking over the skin there before coming to cradle the lips of your pussy, allowing him better access to your aching clit. 

He groans at one point, a low, sinful thing accompanied by a wet kissing sound that has your nipples tightening almost painfully under the blanket. Your hips roll lazily under the sensation, whimpering slightly when his tongue comes to flick over your swollen clit time and time again.  

When his eyes drift closed you feel your body tightening. You lift your hips instinctively and you almost believe that you can feel Joel smirk against your cunt. For some reason that’s what has a white hot pleasure shooting up your middle as you rush towards your release.

“Oh f-f-fuck-“

You suddenly tilt backwards, as Joel's hands grip your hips tightly, fingertips dimpling your flesh as his mouth continues it steady dance against your pussy. 

“There it is,” Joel murmurs against your cunt as you begin to keen loudly.

Everything in your body tightens and your back arches. Your toes curl into the soft of the couch as Joel works his mouth continuously through your shuddering cry of pleasure. He allows your thighs to squeeze the side of his head as your hands grip uselessly at your sides.

Joel laps at the pooling essence between your thighs, groaning as he does it. Your heartbeat flutters at the sight, his eyes rolled back and his mouth working hurriedly over your sex, making obscene sucking noises. You can only whimper down at him, hips rolling lazily against his searching mouth.

And then all at once Joel’s hands slide beneath your bottom, grasping large handfuls of your ass, holding you firmly in place so that his tongue can probe deeper. 

"Another," Joel commands, licking flat swipes along your cunt, the tip of his tongue flicking your clit. Your thighs tremble and you give frantic little huffing cries at the sensation that seems to be building again.

"I-I cant-" 

"You will," Joel tells you sharply, lips coming to circle your clit once more before sucking it into his mouth and you see fireworks behind your eyes. His words swim through your veins, much like they always do.  Another. Another. Another.

He orders you obey.

He leads you follow.

You give his name out with a lusty cry and for the first time this evening you touch him. Your hands go to his thick curls and you clutch there desperately, needing to ground yourself, needing him as deep as possible, needing him.

He doesn’t shake you off and doesn’t demand you not touch him. If anything he seems to suck harder and you think you see his hips beginning to thrust against the couch. His arms banded over your waist hold you in place, his head shaking back and forth.  

"Joel! I'm gonna... Gonna..."

"C'mon then," Joel urges between sloppy kisses to your cunt. "Fuckin’ do it."

Your hips pitch off the creaking sofa, rutting into Joel's mouth with abandon. You hear him groaning with approval and that sends your head tilting back as the pleasure rocks through you. 

Joel gives a shudder, his lips trembling around your clit as you feel yourself coming down. He continues to suck gently, eyes closed. With trembling fingers you touch his cheek lightly, your body overwhelmed.

"S'enough," you tell him through gasps. "Can't... Can't do any more." 

He nods and leans back slowly onto his knees, one hand on the back of the couch.

You go to tell him that you'll do the same for him. Your hand even reaches out towards him but it stops halfway when you see the wide damp spot at the front of his blanket. 

He came. 

When you tear your eyes to go to his face Joel is daring you to say something. His dark eyes are glittering in his face as he stares you down. His mouth is wet with your arousal.

But you can't ask: Joel did you just come while you were going down on me? 

Even though you want to because the thought turns you on more than you can explain. That just your pleasure was enough for him to climax. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, unsure of what to say in such a moment. The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches in amusement.  

“You’re welcome.”

Your eyes are on his abdomen, the scar there in the firelight twisted and obvious. It’s fresher than the other ones that litter his body. You want to ask him how it happened, you want to ask him why he did this tonight, you want to ask him so many more questions but you feel sobered up and too intimidated to ask him.

When you don't say anything more Joel leans forward again, eyes stuck on you. Your legs are still there on his shoulders and you go to move them off.

"I can’t do anything more." You feel your eyelids growing heavy, like each one has a tiny weight at the corner pulling down. "I'm tired."

"Go to sleep then," he tells you, rich baritone against your legs. You feel his lips grazing along your inner thighs, slow, gentle things, taking their time.  “Don’t need to do anything but lay there.”

"What about you?"

"Not tired yet. ‘Sides it’s my watch."

You feel his mouth drifting over the seam of your thigh, breathing in your skin. His lips are petal soft and he’s doing that same light grazing that makes your eyes close before you slip into the warm and welcoming darkness of sleep. 

///

You don't even remember falling asleep but judging by the quieting of the storm it's been a while. The fire is dim, but not out.

But that's not what has woken you.

It's the steadily building orgasm being coaxed out of you by the man still there between your thighs. You can't see him, but you feel his heavy mouth there. Has he just been there licking and sucking as you slept? 

You make a croaking hum deep in your throat as your hips slowly begin to roll against his mouth. You can't see Joel's face in the semi darkness, but you just know he's looking at you. 

You feel your climax building, pushing you to let out little whines. Joel's mouth takes you there, licking just hard enough to have your legs trembling. A husky order from somewhere in the darkened night. 

"Go on then.”

You feel everything in you release at those three words. The delicious tension unwinding itself from your body as you come against his tongue. 

"Good girl."

Only then does Joel remove your thighs from over his shoulders. He closes them gently like the pages of a cherished book before pulling your blanket back down over your body. 

"Thank you," you croak out to him. It doesn't seem like enough but it must be because Joel gives a grunt. You feel his body lift from off the sofa. You want to see what he does next but you feel so relaxed and you're so tired. 

Just so fucking tired. 

///

You wake up too early the next morning, when the sky is still bleeding pink into the start of the day. You blink sleepily up at the window, confused that you’re so warm and cozy despite the fire being dead.

Belatedly you realize you’re sandwiched between the back of the couch and something warm and hard. The disorientation of sleep slowly seeps from you and you realize that you're snuggled up against Joel's back with your arm slung over his waist. 

Memories of last night make your cheeks burn. Joel's mouth on you, the way he took his time. The way he came. Something about that fact makes your throat run dry.

His torso is bare and up so close to him you can see the small array of freckles along his tanned shoulders like a golden galaxy. He’s so broad, his body nearly falling off the edge of the couch as he sleeps on.

He's very still, his breathing slow and even. You peer up and see the threads of grey in his dark hair shining in the almost dead fire. You want to touch it, to see if it's as soft as it looks but you don’t dare.

His spine is under his taut flesh just inches from your mouth. You don't press your mouth to his skin but you can't help but inhale, shocked at how comforting the scent of leather and homemade soap is. 

And while you should start the day and get as far away from Joel Miller as possible, there’s something about this moment that feels better than you can explain. It makes it so that your forehead presses against his spine and your front goes flush with his back. It makes you sigh softly as your eyes grow heavy and sleep pulls you back under. 

---------------------------

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#so much to lose #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #dad joel miller #pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #dark!joel x reader #dark!joel miller #joel x reader #joel fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller the last of us #joel the last of us #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #hbo the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel x you #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #dark!joel #dark story

[thecuriousquest]

Levi with Yandere alphabet F1 +R1 please.

Chained Melody

Yan!Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader

Request: “You knew what you were getting into when you got involved with me.” + “I’ll let you go when you understand this is where you belong.”

Warnings: SFW, Yandere themes, chains (not sexual), pistol whip, blood, Unwilling!Reader, kidnapping

Yandere Alphabet Prompt

Master List

Side Note: He’s just so Daddy. I love heem! Thanks for the ask, Adventurer! 🖤🤘

—————————————————————————

It was something akin to a fever dream, a nightmare. You used to feel so safe in his arms. Now, your forehead is lined with sweat, rolling down the bridge of your nose as you lock up with fear.

His voice was low, soothing. Now it’s an intimidating growl every time he speaks to you. The subtle changes aren’t so subtle anymore.

You felt something was off, but you couldn’t pinpoint it. When you tried to break up with him, it was in that moment his mask came off. You saw everything that was lying underneath, needing to be provoked like a wild animal in order to come out of the cave. And God, do you regret ever doing so. You regret following your intuition, you regret the words of, “Levi, I think we need to go out separate ways.”

The way his face shifted, no contorted. He no longer looked like Levi. Long gone was your protector, now placed with a fervent dictator. He gripped you by the shoulders, eyes wide, lips taught from the stretch of screaming at you.

Your chest felt congested to the point where it was hard to breathe. You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to placate him in this situation.

But you made sure to hit the last nail in the coffin when you said, “Levi, you need to let go of me.”

You meant it literally, not in the metaphorical sense in which Levi took it.

Let go of you? How could he ever let go of the love of his life? How could he ever transcend to a universe in which you are no longer his?

One hand moves to your throat, slowly squeezing, slowly making that congestion in your chest turn to cement. Your lungs cry out for air, any amount, even the slightest. Springs well up in your eyes, pooling at your lashes, rolling down your cheeks, collecting at your chin, and dripping onto the hand around your neck.

“P-please,” is all you can manage to rasp past the constriction in your throat. You’re begging him to let go, to not kill you.

You never imagined Levi at this point. Even when you raked over the thought of breaking things off with him, you never once considered it could end with you six feet under the ground.

Instinctually, you take in the first breath of fresh air and realize he has loosened his hold on your windpipe. You cough and sputter for more oxygen.

But your mind freezes, body locks up, eyes widen in fear when you feel cold steel press against the side of your head.

“Maybe, if I kill you, then I won’t have to worry about you with other guys anymore. That sounds like a fair deal. If you don’t want to be with me, then you get death.”

“N-no, no, Levi! I don’t know what I was thinking. Please, please, don’t do this.”

The words are stuck in your throat, to tell him you want to be with him, to beg him to take you back. You just can’t bring yourself to actually say those words.

How cute. You think you actually broke up with him? No, never. You’re still his. You still belong to him. Nothing you say could ever part the two of you.

“You don’t want me to do this?” he asks, his lips curling in cruel satisfaction.

“Yes, I…want to keep living. Please, don’t kill me!”

As your voice creeps higher, you can’t help but feel Levi shove the barrel of the gun further into your hair.

All too suddenly, you’re no longer able to think straight as the weapon slams against the side of your head.

———

You wake up in a familiar room, his bedroom. The only thing different now is the feeling of metal around your wrist. A cuff linked to the headboard. You try to pry it off immediately, but a headache overcomes you.

Feeling the side of your skull, you notice a bandage has been wrapped around your head. Upon pulling your fingers away, you see light traces of scarlet clinging to the pads of your fingertips. You remember now. The entire incident with Levi leading up to him pistol whipping you.

“You’re awake,” his voice fills the room, not a command yet still commanding. “I wouldn’t move too much, brat. Just stay still and rest.”

It seems like he’s been here for a while, watching over you. He looks comfortable in that chair as a book rests in his lap.

“Why are you doing this to me? Let me go. You can’t keep me here. It’s not…not right. It’s crazy. You can’t keep people like pets!” The louder your voice gets, the more you find yourself wincing from the excruciating migraine.

“Y/N, you knew what you were getting into when you got involved with me,” he says as he walks over to the bed and sits down next to you.

“That’s not true,” you whisper as your eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I had no idea this was the real you.”

Levi gently cups your face, brushing your cheeks with his thumbs as he keeps you looking into his stone colored eyes.

“Don’t backtalk, brat. I’ll let you out of the cuffs when you fully understand this is where you belong.”

With those words, you find the springs overflowing and rolling down your cheeks, just like before.

#yandere #triggering content #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #triggering themes #yandere x darling #yandere themes #yandere attack on titan #attack on titan #attack on titan requests #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman attack on titan #yandere levi x reader #yandere levi #aot levi #levi aot #snk levi #levi ackerman #captain levi #yandere levi ackerman x reader #yandere levi ackerman #levi ackerman aot #levi x reader #yandere x unwilling reader #yandere x resisting reader

[joojeans]

˚◞♡ ⃗ I Dare You Pt. 2

♡ Bestfriend!Fuma x Afab!Reader

♡ Summary: You’re sitting on the floor with your friends playing a juvenile game–truth or dare. Things have been spiraling out of control for some time now, but what happens when you’re dared to turn on one of your best friends without touching them? Can they handle it? Can you handle it? Spoiler alert: neither of you can. Find out how things go from seriously fucked up to seriously fucked, one member at a time.

♡ WC: 3.7k

♡ Content: mildly jealous fuma, finger sucking, fuma calling reader pet names, fuma calling reader good girl, reader is foaming at the mouth for fuma tbh (i get it), soft dom fuma, light fingering, unprotected sex (be smart), the actual intercourse is a very small part of this but that's how i wanted it <3

♡ PREVIOUS | SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT

You lift your head from Euijoo’s shoulder at the sound of your name, eyes finding the mouth responsible almost instantly–Nicholas. He’s giving you the look: the one that says put your phone away and play with us properly. You give him a sheepish smile and slide your phone into your back pocket, sitting up straighter to convey I want to be here.

“It’s your turn, by the way.” 

“Oh.” Awkward.

“So, truth or dare?”

“Tru–” You stop yourself. The truth is usually easier, at least for you, but you feel a bit bad about not being as involved as everyone else, so you figure the riskier option might help make it up to them a little. It can’t be that bad, right? These are your best friends. “Uh, I mean, dare.” 

“Oh?” This time, Nicholas is taken by surprise. “Gimme a sec, I wasn’t prepared for you to actually pick dare.”

You nod, sitting back on one arm while your other hand mindlessly plays with the rips in Euijoo’s jeans. As if inspired by you, he does the same on his other leg.

Nicholas’s face is morphing between concentration, intrigue, and curiosity as he looks around the room. It seems like he’s hoping to be spoon fed the dare by one of the other guy’s faces, and while it doesn’t seem to happen quite like that, it does kind of work. 

“Okay, hear me out.”

Your stomach tenses at the words alone. Nicholas only prefaces things like that when he’s about to propose something your instincts will protest. “Nicholas.”

He holds his hands up in defense, a guilty smile playing on his lips. “Wait, wait. Just listen.”

You roll your eyes, your shoulders shrugging in surrender. Euijoo, Fuma, and K are all looking at Nicholas, certainly dying to know what he’s up to.

Nicholas starts carefully, the honey of his voice smoothing over any startling words. “It’s just that… I couldn’t help but notice that Fuma’s jaw was tense just now. Like, it was locked. And it was because he was watching you… with Euijoo.”

Every head in the room sans Nicholas cocks just slightly. No one seems to be privy to whatever Nicholas is talking about. You look at Euijoo, trying to put the puzzle pieces together for yourself, but he looks just as surprised as you. Your eyes scan him for any signs of you having done anything with him, though you know you haven’t. Then you realize.

Your fingers are still idly playing with the rip of his jeans. That’s it. It’s innocent enough, your fingertips only occasionally pushing inside of the material to lightly scratch at his skin, but you hadn’t even been totally conscious you were doing it.

“Wait. You’re saying this–” You motion generally to the jeans in question.

“Yes.”

You glance up, looking for Fuma. His jaw is definitely tense, but now it seems to be more out of annoyance than–what was it? Disgust? Jealousy?

You look back to Nicholas, still not sure what his point is and definitely sure you don’t want to annoy Fuma any further. “Okay, so what about it?”

Nicholas pushes his tongue into his cheek, a sly grin adorning his face as he prepares to finally reach the climax of this much-too-built-up dare. “I dare you to see how much more you can frustrate him. He seemed to want your attention, so why not let him have it? If you manage to turn him on, I’ll pay for your uber home.”

You only get a moment to process everything because Fuma is nudging Nicholas with his shoulder and muttering words you can’t hear. You’re worried that he’s uncomfortable even if it wasn’t you that started all this. You look from K to Euijoo, hoping that either of them will speak up, but they just look amused and confused, respectively.

Is Fuma really jealous? Does he think of you like that? You had never thought so, but you can’t exactly say you’d be complaining if he does. He’s Fuma. Handsome. Strong. Respectable.

“So are you saying you’re afraid to let her try?” Nicholas laughs. The conversation is finally audible to third party ears again.

Fuma clears his throat. “No. I’m saying that I don’t think it’s very fair to be putting her in that position.”

The atmosphere gets eerily quiet, awkward. You and everyone else know that you’re the only one that can speak for yourself. Strangely, you like having the upper hand like this. It feels like there are exciting possibilities with a handsome man that you’re now maybe starting to think about differently.

“I don’t mind, you know.” And you don’t.

The quietness carries on. Everyone needs you to elaborate.

“I mean, we’re all having fun here, right?” Everyone nods, albeit slowly. “And I could certainly use a free uber home later. So… why not? Unless you are opposed, of course.”

You plaster on a lighthearted, playful smile and it feels like the tension is slowly but surely being sucked out of the room. All four sets of eyes move to Fuma. His move.

“I can’t say that I was prepared for this, but… okay. Who am I to deny you an opportunity for a free ride, right?” His tone is equally playful and it relieves you. 

Relieves everyone, really. Now that all parties are seeing eye to eye, everyone can breathe.

“Well, have at it.” Nicholas motions you towards Fuma and you chew on your lip for a moment. This is probably going to be really fun for you, but you haven’t exactly thought it through. Still, the show must go on.

You carefully sit up until you’re squatting on your feet. You lean forward until your knees hit the floor, crawling hands and knees in Fuma’s direction. He’s watching you, seemingly unaffected as his eyes stay locked on you.

His back is resting against the sofa as he sits on the floor, feet planted, knees bent, forearms resting on his knees. His feet are far enough apart that you can just squeeze yourself between his legs. You do, your hands linking themselves with his as you sit on your knees. His head falls back just slightly on his shoulders, looking down his nose at you. His lips are parted just slightly and his eyelids are lowered, but he otherwise looks the same as he always does.

“Hi, Fuma,” you coo, batting your lashes sweetly.

“Y/n.” There’s a seriousness to the way he speaks, but he gives you a small smile that can only be described as adoring.

“I hear you were feeling a little jealous.” You mock pout, bringing one of his hands up to your face to nuzzle it. “Is that right?”

Fuma exhales an almost-laugh, tongue pushing into his cheek. “I don’t know if I would call it that.” The other guys can’t see it, but the hand that’s brushing against your cheek squeezes yours. It feels like validation that he does feel something for you, even if he hasn’t said as much.

“No?” You free both of his hands from yours momentarily, instead placing all of your focus on one of them. You open his palm with your fingers–his one hand needs both of yours to do this properly–and massage up to his fingertips. “Seemed like you didn’t really like what I was doing with my fingers.”

It’s barely noticeable, but Fuma’s breath catches in his throat briefly. You cock your head innocently, watching as the gears behind his eyes turn, trying to figure out your next move so he can beat you to it.

“I should make that up to you, right?” You press soft kisses upon each fingertip. “Show you I’m sorry for upsetting you like that?”

Fuma watches intently as your lips travel across each fingertip, between each knuckle. “I mean– You don’t have to–”

Saving him the struggle of finding the right words in this complex situation, you pull your head back just enough to straighten his fingers completely and suck his index and middle finger between your lips. You can hear a gasp from someone in the room, but it’s not Fuma. The only reaction he gives you is an almost imperceptible slackening of his jaw.

Unwavering, you let your tongue snake around and between his fingers, humming happily. You thought you’d have to fake that part a little bit, but now that you’re actually doing this, you’re really fucking enjoying it. Something about Fuma not giving into you so easily is making wetness pool in your panties. To be frank, you can’t think of anything else you’d rather be doing other than sucking on Fuma’s pretty fingers. Maybe this was supposed to be about seeing how much you could get to Fuma, but it seems like you’re getting to yourself more than anything right now.

Fuma lets you get carried away, mouth working his fingers the way they would his cock. There’s a slight burning in your cheeks knowing that other people are watching you, but you can’t care enough to stop yourself. Worse, you feel your heart skip a beat when Fuma reaches out to brush away the few strands of hair that found themselves stuck in the little pool of saliva on the corner of your lips. Fuck, even right now he’s a gentleman. 

You moan softly at the act of care, but it’s cut off by a second, surprised moan when Fuma presses his fingers down firmly on your tongue. You stop moving, eyes wide as you look at Fuma. He presses them down further until your mouth opens and your jaw forces apart. He just looks at you as you sit on your knees, mouth and jaw open for him, his fingers still pressing on your tongue. “Good girl.”

Oh fuck.

He removes his fingers from your mouth and wipes the saliva on your lips with his thumb. “Alright, that’s enough.”

You don’t know what to feel. Embarrassed? Maybe. Confused? Yeah. Turned on? Absofuckinglutely.

Nicholas speaks up before you can even begin to think of what to say. “Hey, you don’t get to decide when it’s over. Money is on the line here.” He’s half joking.

“I said it’s over. It worked. I don’t think you need to see the physical evidence.”

It worked?

In a move that would be extremely inappropriate on any other day, everyone in the room glances towards Fuma’s crotch. No one can be sure of anything based on the way he’s sitting, but considering he confirmed it himself, it seems that you were successful.

That’s great and all, but now you have to deal with the aftermath of all of your friends watching you act… like that. You have to change the subject immediately or you might die of embarrassment.

“Alright, Nicholas. Pull your phone out right now and send me the money you owe me.” You playfully toss your hair and retreat back to your spot next to Euijoo, hoping like hell everyone can forget what just happened.

Euijoo seems to stiffen a little when you sit next to him this time and you’re not sure if you love or hate that. Still, you rest your head against his upper arm, eyes trained on Nicholas to make sure he does what’s promised. He laughs when he realizes you very much meant right now and pulls his phone from his pocket.

“Don’t worry about it,” Fuma mumbles quietly to Nicholas. No one else hears him, but you’re hyper aware of him after… what just happened… so you do. Nicholas looks over at him, clearly confused, but Fuma explains himself. “Send her the money still, but I’ll take her home.”

Nicholas smirks.

-

You’re standing at the far end of the kitchen, head resting against the wall near the fridge. You’re ready to go home, but you don’t want to ruin the mood for everyone else by being the first to leave. Still, you decide to open uber and see how long it would take for a driver to come get you. As it goes, there’s a driver only five minutes away. Tempting.

“Should I grab my keys?”

You glance up from your phone to see Fuma standing at the other end of the kitchen. He looks calm and composed as ever. The way you feel looking at him could be considered anything but.

Silence hovers between you for several moments as you consider how to answer. Fuma never actually spoke with you about driving you home tonight. You’re pretty sure he doesn’t even know you overheard his hushed words to Nicholas. It seems bold for him to just assume you’d take him up on it, but then again… maybe not? You are friends. You seem to be forgetting that a lot tonight.

Still, you’re not an idiot.

“Yeah. If you don’t mind.”

With a nod, Fuma disappears into the living room. You mentally prepare for a ride home that is sure to be unlike any other.

He returns only a minute later, keys in hand. “I told them that we’re leaving and that you said goodbye. I hope that’s okay?” You nod. Your hero. You’re not in the right headspace for all the formalities tonight. Fuma offers you his arm and you hesitate, but you ultimately take it and walk out the front door with him.

The car ride is miserable. You’re both quiet and Fuma keeps asking if you’re feeling okay when you’re very much not feeling okay. Especially not when you’re watching the way his hand glides across the steering wheel effortlessly. Especially not when his other arm is propped against the driver’s side door, hand rubbing his jaw and lips. Especially not when you’re trying to not look at either of his hands and instead find your eyes trained on his lap, his muscular thighs looking all too inviting. It’s all you can do to not pounce on him in the middle of the highway.

Since when do you feel like this about Fuma?

Since approximately three hours ago.

You try like hell to shake it off and stare out your window instead. Safe.

When you pull up to your apartment, you expect to give Fuma an awkward goodbye hug and a thank you and then scurry away to hide yourself from him for the foreseeable future. That’s not what happens.

Fuma turns off the car and removes his keys. He steps out of the car and comes to your side to open it for you, arm protectively around your lower back as you let him guide you to your front door. You turn to face him then, eyes inquisitive.

“Well… goodnight? Thank you for the ride home. You really didn’t have to do that. I did get a free ride tonight, you know.” You laugh half-heartedly, mentally cursing yourself for bringing up anything even tangentially related to what happened between you tonight.

“You’re welcome. Are you going to open the door?”

You hesitate. Again. “Oh, uh… yes?” You unlock and push the door open, stepping just inside to say goodbye again. He just wants to make sure I’m safely inside before he leaves.

Nope. Fuma carefully nudges you further into your apartment so he can step inside as well, closing the door behind him. 

What is going on?

You look up to Fuma and cock your head, prompting him to explain himself. He smiles at you with a subtle confidence that makes you feel like you’d do anything to please him. “What?”

“I don’t understand what’s happening right now.”

Fuma chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Y/n. You couldn’t sit still the entire ride home. Did you think I couldn’t feel you staring at me?” 

He pauses in case you’d like to answer. You don’t. 

“Did you or did you not want me to come inside with you tonight?”

Well…

“Fuck, Fuma. I don’t know. Nothing about what I’m feeling or wanting tonight feels normal.”

He nods, taking your hand and walking you to your dining table. He sits in the closest chair and carefully maneuvers you onto his lap. You’ve sat in his lap many times before, but never like this–not straddling him, not with his face so close to yours. “Let me help you figure it out then, mm?” A pause for you to nod your agreement. “Did you like it when you thought I was jealous earlier tonight?”

You narrow your eyes. “You were jealous.”

“Not the point. Did you like it?”

“Well…a little bit, yeah. I don’t know why.”

“That’s okay. Did you like it…” His hand cups your face, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. Your body memory recalls him doing that to clean your own drool off of you only hours before and your cunt throbs. “...when you had my fingers in your mouth?”

“Yes.” You answer too quickly. You didn’t mean to do that.

Fuma’s lips quirk into a small smirk, humming his approval. “Do you want me to kiss you right now?”

Fuck it. If he’s going to ask you about every single feeling and desire, you might as well just be completely honest. 

“Fuma, if I’m being honest, I want you to do more than just kiss me right now.”

A brief flash of surprise reflects from Fuma’s eyes, but he never falters. He gathers your hand in his. “Is that so?” He places your hand over the button of his jeans. “Tell me what it is you want me to do then, angel.”

Your lips part in a silent gasp as you glance down. You can finally feel that he was affected by you even if he’s good at hiding it. Your hand tries to curl around the girth of his clothed cock, but his jeans are too thick and stiff. Your eyes flit back up to his, sparkling. You work on pulling his button loose and his zipper down as you speak, silently praying he doesn’t stop you. “I need to feel you inside me. Want you to make me cum.”

Fuma smiles, taking your hand away from his jeans and pressing a kiss against the back of it. “Using your words so well, yeah? That’s a good girl.” He laces his fingers through yours, free hand ghosting down to free himself from his jeans. 

You chew on your lip at the sight of his uncovered cock, mouth instinctively watering, but he doesn’t let you get caught up for too long.

“Lift up just a little for me.”

You do as requested and he frees the hem of your dress from under you at all sides before letting you sit back down. His hand slides up the top of your soft thigh, inviting itself between them. You whimper at the proximity before he’s even touched you and he playfully slaps your thigh. “So needy. Cute.”

His hand continues its journey, feeling the wet cloth of your panties for only a moment before pulling them to the side. He lets his long middle finger glide between your slick folds, licking his lips as he realizes how truly needy you actually are. “Must’ve been so uncomfortable sitting in your pretty panties like this all night.” He guides the hand he was holding to his shoulder and leaves it there. Understanding, you hold it and Fuma pushes his finger inside you, relishing the relieved moan you gift him.

“There we go. Feels so much better, mm?”

You nod somewhere close to frantically. “So good, Fuma. Want more.”

“Mhmm. I know.” He adds a second finger and slowly starts to scissor them, making sure you’re nice and open for him. His eyes are all over your face as it scrunches up in pure pleasure, his free hand rubbing your hip to soothe you. “Think you’re ready to sit on my cock, angel?”

“Sofuckingready,” you breathe out at once. You lean your body forward, your arms wrapping around Fuma’s neck. You rest your forehead against his while he takes advantage of your positioning, removing his fingers from you and angling his cock towards your entrance.

He hesitates. You feel rabid.

“Tell me you’re sure.”

“God, I couldn’t be more fucking sure. Please.”

His lips twitch into a small smirk. “I got you.” He inserts himself inside you with one hand, his other gently guiding your body down. Your eyelids flutter from the fullness of him, slowly stretching you open until you’re fully impaled on him. He feels better than you could’ve imagined and your eyes close, feeling like you’re in a wet, lucid dream.

Usually, you would take control of the situation–moving yourself up and down his cock at your will–but something about being with Fuma makes you feel small. Like you should be taken care of instead. Like you don’t have to lift a finger.

Seemingly, he feels the same.

Both hands on your hips, Fuma takes care of you. He rolls his hips up into your aching cunt, his hands aiding him by guiding you along his length. He asks almost nothing of you, all too happy to single-handedly provide you both what you’ve been craving. He watches as your head slips back on your shoulders, your jaw slack from the blissful pleasure of him.

“There you go, angel.” His voice is solace. “Hold onto me.”

Your fingers curl into either side of his shoulders, doing your damnedest to keep yourself up. The room is eerily quiet–only the sounds of your slick, Fuma’s praises, and your soft exhales peppering the air. Despite how urgently you felt you needed this, everything about it is tender. The way he holds you, moves you, fucks you–it feels like love.

And maybe it is. You’ve always loved each other. Just…never like this. 

Or maybe you didn’t know it was like this.

You’re not sure how long you carry on like this. You feel dazed, suspended in a beautiful haze with Fuma. Even your orgasm feels careful, gradually building until it takes over you, flooding your body with warmth and dopamine and oxytocin, flooding Fuma’s lap with a thank you. You don’t realize he also found release until you slowly blink your eyes back open to see the remnants of pleasure etched onto his face.

You smile at each other weakly, fondly. You lean your forehead against his once more, the two of you catching your breath in tandem. You feel his lips moving within centimeters of yours.

“Let’s go to bed.”

#fuma #fuma smut #&team smut #andteam smut #&team fuma smut #andteam fuma smut

[wistfulenchantress]

@rosekillermicrofic May 4 - hopeless (idk if we can write more than one but i want to)

“You’re a hopeless romantic,” Regulus groans. Evan rolls his eyes.

“Just do it,” Pandora agrees, “You know what Barty will say.”

“No, I don’t!” Evan exclaims, “How are you supposed to know what your best friend of six years will say if you suddenly confess love? It has to be perfect.”

“Just do it! I can’t stand the pining anymore, Ev.”

“Yeah, Rosie,” Regulus mocks, “Just do it!”

Evan feels his face warm.

“Hey, guys!” He turns and sees Barty walking in. “Hey, Rosie,” Barty holds eye contact with Evan for far too long.

Pandora and Regulus exchange a look, and both make crappy excuses to leave.

“Ok. Bye,” Barty looks confused, and Evan curses his friends.

Barty sits down next to Evan on the edge of his bed. Evan is used to this sort of thing, he has always suppressed his feelings. But Barty seems… different.

“Is everything okay?” Evan asks.

“Uh…” Barty blinks, and then closes his mouth. Evan looks at him with concern.

“Ok. I need your advice.” Evan nods, and Barty continues.

“What if I like one of my close friends? And I don’t know if they like me back? They… I think they are involved with this Gryffindor, anyway, but I just can’t hold it in. What should I do?”

Regulus. Oh. Evan’s stomach sinks, but he doesn’t let his expression change.

“Well,” It is ironic, to give his own plan to confess to Barty, but Evan supposes that is how it goes, “You could take them somewhere private,” Barty is nodding enthusiastically, “And just say it, y’know?”

Evan’s voice cracks, but he continues. He’s been doing this for years, he can keep going.

“Just tell them how you feel. I’m sure Regulus will-“

“Regulus?” Barty shouts suddenly.

“Yeah… I assumed…”

“No. Not Reg. But… what were you thinking?”

Evan doesn’t know who Barty could be talking about, now, but oh well.

“Just be honest, and speak from the heart. I’m sure they will be… lucky to have you.”

Barty nods. “Ok.” He looks around.

“Rosie, we need to talk.”

“Um… ok.”

“I think… well, I’m sure you don’t, it’s just…”

Evan doesn’t dare hope…

“I… want us to not be friends.”

“What?”

“Shit! That came out wrong, I’m hopeless, sorry, I… want to be more than friends.”

“Oh…”

“It’s ok! We can forget this ever…” Barty looks ready to run.

“B, wait. It’s ok. I… would like to not be friends, too.”

“Really?” Barty lets out a watery laugh, and Evan touches his cheek.

“I would love that.”

“Cool… great… yeah. Awesome.”

“Awesome,” Evan agrees, kissing him.

#rosekiller

[captainnameless]

any maxy + gp or lando + jon/will or charles + andrea crumbs??

Max + GP

It’s post Singapore ‘23, Max is alright. GP knows, but he is a little deflated. A drop is imminent and Daniel’s stuck on all sorts of data duties, still not back in the car.

The call if he could keep an eye on Max had been expected and accepted without a fuss. Max is already pouting when they step out of the elevator and make their way to Max’s hotelroom.

GP takes a quick look around before he’s intertwining his fingers with Max’s, pulling him along. “Let’s go, buddy.”

“When’s Daddy coming?” Max asks, following GP with a slight resistance in his step.

It’s an expected question, GP knows where he ranks on Max’s favorites list and while he’s proud to know he’s high up there, there’s no shame in admitting Daniel’s #1 stop is out of reach.

“He’ll get here as soon as he’s able, alright? It might be a while.”

It pulls a whine out of the younger and GP quickly swipes the room card to the door so they can have their privacy.

Luckily Max accepts his shower without a fuss, and GP feeds an overly tired Max little bites of his room service meal.

Max is determined to stay awake, eventually gives in to a cuddle when GP promises to wake him up when Daniel gets here.

Daniel gets there late, GP’s watching some B-list moved with dimmed audio while his hand places absentmindedly with little strands of Max’s hair while the younger’s face is pressed into his thigh, body stretched out onto the couch, thumb barely in his mouth still, Leo sat on GP’s other thigh where Max had put him.

Daniel coos, and it pulls a smile from GP who stills his hand.

“How’s he?” Daniel asks, kicking off his shoes.

“Ok.” GP nods, attention back on the boy. “He’s been a good boy, wanted to stay up for you. Eventually settled on being woken up once you got here.”

Daniel grimaces a little. “Let’s pray he goes back to sleep after.”

“He probably will, today was a lot. Think he just wanted a cuddle from you.”

“Well I’m not one to deny.” Daniel replies, moving over to the couch and gently crouching down, brushing his hand over Max’s exposed cheek. “Muffin,” Daniel breathes. “Daddy’s home.”

Lando + Jon

Jon’s bad at the discipline part, even though he’s seen Carlos steer Lando into a corner more than a handful of times, he’s too sensitive to the puppy dog eyes and crocodile tears, even with Lando being the menace that he is today.

Bribes, he’s good at bribes though.

“Lando,” Jon says, trying not to sound exasperated after trying to get Lando to do this one exercise for over 10 minutes now. “If we get the workout done before 3, I’ll take you to get a frozen yogurt instead of you having to eat your smoothie bowl.”

It gets Lando up and going easy enough, and with slightly threatening reminders of said frozen yogurt they get done what they need to do.

“Shower, then a treat.” Jon says, watching Lando scurry off into the gym showers and appear again in record time.

When he’s handing Lando back to Carlos at the end of the day the younger starts babbling about his froyo immediately.

Carlos smiles. “Were you such a good boy that you got a treat?”

“No,” Lando says, “Only a little bit.”

Jon bites his lip, at least Lando’s honest, but the look Carlos gives him shows he knows exactly what has happened and Jon squirms like he might be the one in trouble with Carlos now.

“You know I can’t help it.” Jon rushes to defend himself, taking a step back out of reach just in case with an apologetic smile.

Carlos sighs, ushers Lando towards Jon. “Did you say thank you?”

Jon gets a hug instead.

Charles + Andrea

Andrea has been around Charles for forever, it feels like, he knows the boy inside out. Knows about what helps him relax, be a better driver, even if he’s usually not too involved in that.

Usually.

“Hi.” Carlos says when Andrea opens the door to his hotel room, Charles in partially hidden behind Carlos, his cheeks vibrantly pink, eyes tired and a little wet.

“You know I don’t ask often,” Carlos continues. “But could you put him down for a nap? He’s exhausted, I have a meeting I can’t take him too. I couldn’t reach anyone else.”

Charles whines from behind Carlos, buries his face into Carlos’ side and only now does Andrea realize that Charles is clutching Carlos’ hand, the other one clutches a soft looking elephant attached to a small blanket.

“Of course,” Andrea says immediately, steps out of the doorframe to let them both in. He figures he knows what this meeting is about if Charles can’t come with, not anything Ferrari which is a sensitive subject still and explains the wetness in Charles’ eyes.

Carlos steps inside, takes Charles with him and then gently tries to move the younger out of hiding, facing him.

“Cuoricino,” Carlos says, brushing his thumb over Charles cheek. “Be a good boy for Andrea, ok? Have a nice nap? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“No.” Charles pouts, scowl on his pretty face while he sucks in a breath.

Carlos sighs, gives Andrea a look before turning back to Charles. “Charlie,” he starts, “if you sleep time will go a lot quicker, no?”

Charles seems to contemplate that but doesn’t answer, pout growing as his eyes grow wetter.

Andrea moves over into their space, keeps his voice nice and calm. “We have a bit of a cuddle first, hm?” He says, and opens his arms a bit.

Charles is rarely one to deny a cuddle, and an emotional overly tired Charles does not deny one at all, stumbling into Andrea’s embrace with a shaky sigh. “Bravo, Tesoro.” Andrea hums, wrapping Charles up. “Can we say bye to Carlos?”

It’s best to move that part quickly, both Carlos and Andrea know so Carlos moves over to press to quick kisses to Charles’s head. Murmurs his i love you’s before quickly going out the door. “Grazie, Andrea.”

Andrea waves him off, gently maneuvers both him and Charles towards the couch ones the door closes and encourages Charles to get comfortable, watches him bring his thumb up to his mouth while the pout disappears, little blanket twisted around his fingers to brush at his face.

“Dormire.” Andrea says.

#littlef1adventures #lf1a.minific

[manyblinkinglights]

I'll never understand pro models with kind of shit weight painting.

WHY'S THE BUTT COME WITH, THOUGH.

THIS IS A VERY IMPORTANT PART OF ANY TAILED MODEL. ;o;

like I GUESS the creator is assuming nobody wants to see the asshole, and that it would be posed and filmed the etc to hide hole anyway. And now that I think of it, of all the cats, I bet on snow leopards you actually DON'T see cat asshole continually, because it's cold, and they probably keep it protected.

but not like THAT.

#nope. no corrective shapekeys #it's just Like That #and as well: it's very difficult to rig this area. way super hard and then nobody wants to see cat asshole anyway #a reasonable allocation of someone's limited time and resources #BUT AT THE SAME TIME LIKE OHHHHHHHHH MY GOD COME ON #THE HINDQUARTERS ARE ONE OF THE MOST DYNAMIC PARTS OF *MY* RIGS #WHAT ABOUT *MYYYYYYYY* USE CASE #the hips are doing something subtle but extremely important! the tailbase is doing something ELSE! #they both holistically combine to reflect your Humanoid hips movement! #and now the cheeks are going to BE INVOLVED. #that said hopefully it won't be that noticeable. because I'm not fixing this. #since presumably the underlying topo doesn't permit much of a fix to this

[andromeda3116]

people actually went on about how game of thrones made it socially acceptable to be a fantasy nerd, as though the lord of the rings movies hadn't been released less than a decade earlier and left far greater cultural ripples and i am just

got may have made the adults feel better about liking fantasy, but lotr got into the kids' heads when they (we) were just young and impressionable enough to be absolutely transported and emotionally rewritten by don't you leave him, samwise gamgee and my brother, my captain, my king and and rohan will answer

lotr was rewriting entire generations' brain chemistry long before asoiaf and so obviously it's not fair to compare any post-lotr fantasy novel to it, and each book series was trying to do different things within their own spheres and so that also is not a fair comparison, but in terms of the cultural impact of the adaptations that came out within a decade of each other, saying that it was game of thrones that made fantasy mainstream is baffling

game of thrones could only run because the lord of the rings movies laid the path, and i will die on this hill

#lotr #lord of the rings #lord of the rings movies #i started this post because ''may it be'' came up on my playlist but now i think i'm going to start my nth rewatch of the trilogy #there is a lot to discuss about it re: comparison to the books but it's like... #for all the changes they made - good and bad and neutral - everyone involved in making the films *loved* the source material #they all *wanted* to do justice to it and believed in it and it shows #i think of some posts i've seen about how frustrating this modern push towards tongue-in-cheek irony over sincerity #so afraid to be corny or cheesy that you have to tack a joke onto every real emotional moment #like no fuck that #give me sam hauling frodo onto his shoulders saying ''i can't carry it for you but i can carry you'' #give me aragorn gently kissing boromir's forehead as he dies #give me merry and pippin throwing themselves at the uruk hai to distract them from frodo #give me theoden's grand speeches and gandalf's pained expression when frodo says he'll carry the ring #tbh i think that sincerity is a large part of *why* it has such staying power even now #because it is a story you are meant to get deeply emotionally invested in and not hold yourself a little ironically apart from #it isn't meant to sell merch it's meant to bring you to middle-earth and capture your heart and make you believe that the war can be won #with love and loyalty and hope and fellowship and fidelity and integrity and just... just refusing to give in to despair #it is earnest. it is unafraid to be melodramatic or corny because it believes in the story it's telling. #and so it imprinted onto a whole generation growing up right at the cusp of a barrage of apocalypses #anyway. i have Feelings about these movies and their impact and how that mirrors and enhances the books' own impact

[thevioletcaptain]

.

#spent my entire two days off either doing storm prep #or being tense and waiting for the storm to get worse #and then being tense and waiting for aftershocks because of course we had an earthquake in the middle of the storm #and i couldn't stop imagining the horrors #and now it's monday afternoon and i have to leave for work in 3 hours #and i'm so fucking tired and worn out from the past two days that my face is aching #like my cheeks and the skin around my eyes feels heavy #and my body in general feels the kind of tired-achy that usually signals an oncoming fibro flare up #which i absolutely cannot afford to have right now #and this morning the dogs woke me up at 5am #and then again at 7am #and i couldn't get back to sleep so i got up #but then i took a nap and now i feel more tired than before #ugh #gonna go take a cool shower maybe that will help #of course that will involve getting up from the armchair i'm sitting in which sounds awful #but i think i need to at this point #cass says things #this has been a complainy post #tbd

[sammydem0n64]

I say "lilyheart is a period piece (2020-2021) for no reason" as if it isn't great to have an exact date for events in the story. like 2001 for Nicholas' murder and 2014 for Plum's death. Y'know

#Like 'the 2001 incident' in the context of a peaceful town finally having a major case after eons is sooo much better than #'the assa incident' yknow #Sure naming the victim is nice but the whole thing is that Berry caused the first fuckery Karson experienced in DECADES #Bc the last like. full on crimes have been turned into mythos! The kids going missing was so long ago it's practically all rumor now! #Shows just how far along it's been and gives you a specific time frame for when things went fucky #I may have said this before but yknow. 2020 was often regarded as a time 'the world ended' due to all the shit happening at the time #And while none of that applies to Lilyheart like theres no covid pandemic it's a nice little tongue in cheek thing #bc yeah. sure. why not. during the year shit was fucked suddenly the world is being reintroduced to monsters #mark that off the 2020 bingo card. oh hey people are being murdered too. oh well #really the only casuality involved with giving it a specific date IS of course outside oc interaction. but that's what aus r for!!! #teehee. anyways

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

chocolate confession ♡

fem reader, part 2 for the ring pop proposal miniseries since yall were asking for it ! fem reader, soft n worried katsu, white day chocolates, katsu n reader r in highschool (ignore the no dorms blehh :P) in this one, this also reeks of my ocxcanon ship msorry yall lolololol, i dont think there are any warnings, but lemme know if i missed sum else !

the first person who realizes katsuki is trying to confess to you is his mom because he hasn't left the kitchen since he'd banished everyone from coming in as soon as the sun peeked through the curtains.

the older woman had no idea what the sounds of pots and pans clanging, mixed with not-so-quiet cursing meant, at first. but she figured it out quickly, call it mother's intuition, or the fact that she checked her calendar and realized tomorrow was white day.

mitsuki knew her son was going to confess to you when he came back from school with a cutely wrapped box of chocolates. her katsuki was still rowdy—if not rowdier and even less approachable than he was as a chubby cheeked little boy, so she guessed by the blush and barely suppressed smile on his face that—

"ouuu, got yourself some chocolates ? aren't you a heartthrob.." she teased "who'd you get those from ?"

katsuki scoffed at his mothers teasing. he rolled his eyes, but they wouldn't—or rather couldn't stray far away from the wrapped sweet treats. he runs his thumb over the ribbon tied in front.

"..yn gave 'em to me." he huffs proudly.

as she guessed, they came from you. of course.

katsuki is still—if not even more protective over everything that involves you, practically growling at his mom's not so sneaky attempts at trying to sneak a chocolate when he had opened the box "yn made 'em for me, so no touchin'." he snarled, stomping over to his room and ignoring his mom's knowing smirk when he made his way up the stairs.

this memory brings her back to now when she suddenly hears..nothing. absolute silence in contrast to all the ruckus from only a few seconds ago. and then the door creaks open just a bit and mitsuki sees her son's head peek out from the corner. she looks up from her magazine to raise a brow in question and the blond boy glares, jolting his head to the side in a silent plea for her to come over.

she saunters to the door, knowing smirk growing wider the more her son's grumpy face comes into view. she gets a peek of her kitchen through the small crack her son allowed her to see. she had to admit, though rowdy, katsuki was anything but messy. even though the dishes piled up, she knew he'd clean them up soon enough. she looks down at him and he avoids eye contact.

"can i come into my kitchen now ?" she smirks. katsuki scoffs at his feet. he grumbles something unintelligible before side stepping and telling her to 'just come in already.'

the woman is greeted with a batch of freshly made chocolates, which she assumes are one's you like if she knew how enamoured her katsuki was with you.

"ouu, who are these for, hm ?" she teased, but if he knew her son well enough she knew that these—

"sh-shut up !" katsuki snapped, cheeks turning red and eyes drifting around the room "you know who.." he challenges. mitsuki smirks wider, crossing her arms.

as she guessed, they're for you.

"okay.." she humors him, shifting her weight to her other leg " and what do you need me to do here ?"

katsuki inhales shortly to himself. he picks up one of the chocolates, not from your tray because those were for you and no one else, but from another tray she hadn't noticed of sloppier batches.

"try this." is all he says. handing her a little piece of deformed chocolate and she plops it into her mouth. she takes the time to let the sweet treat melt on her tongue before letting out a pleased hum. katsuki straightens up and his eyes shine and brighten the slightest bit.

"mhm, these are good." she acknowledged "but why don't i get one of the pretty ones ?" she teases. her katsuki all but scoffs in her face, simply stating that "these are for yn, not you."

and mitsuki realizes. he must've been working for hours trying to make these chocolates perfect for you, she guessed. her heart warms and her eyes soften at her son's adoration for you.

"but the one you gave me is good too, why can't you just give her one of those ?" at that, katsuki shoots her an incredulous look, like she had just told him something utterly unimaginable.

"i can't go around givin' her shitty chocolates ! 'specially not if i.." he trails off suddenly, grumbling with balled fists. he wipes at his cheek to try and wipe off his embarrassment. mitsuki feels her smile practically reach her ears. she's too good at this.

"if you what ?" she sings, leaning towards her son. he grumbles.

"if i—stop looking at me like that ! s'creepy so knock it off !" the blond snapped, face and ears a bright shade of pink and mitsuki can't help but bark out a loud laugh at her son's flustered state, her laugh drowns out the low growl he makes. she decides to spare him after a good giggle.

"okay, okay. i get it." she reassures. because she does, of course she does. but she sees something is wrong with the way her son seems satisfied for only a second before he's chewing at his lower lip and the way he wipes his hands against his pants. she knows her katsuki is extremely hard to handle. he could be quite the brat, but also extremely stubborn (she thinks she might know where he got that from.) so asking him simply what was wrong was out of the question. so she decides to coax him into it.

"you gonna give them to her tomorrow ?" he nods, hiding his eyes with his bangs.

"they're good. so i'm gonna give 'em to her tomorrow." her son nods at his mumbled pep talk, but the tension between his brows doesn't let up and after a moment, he sighs grumpily.

"what if i, like, fuck it up..?" mitsuki's eyes soften at her son's insecurities showing despite himself.

"how would you do that ? all you gotta do is hand them over." she asks softly. katsuki huffs.

"it's not that simple," he retorts "what if i make it weird ? what if i make things between us weird an' she doesn't wanna be with me anymore..." the sad tone of voice and the angry little puppy dog eyes make mitsuki melt, despite growing up a lot. despite being quippy and rowdy and a major brat, her katsuki will always be her little boy tugging at the bag of sweet ring pops he'd begged her to buy at the grocery store. her little boy who smiled a bright determined smile as the bag crinkled in his hand following his proud stomps to the car back home, ready for tomorrow.

a surprised throaty noise escapes katsuki when his mom places a hand in his hair, running her fingers through it. he makes a displeased noise, again, but doesn't try to stop her. mitsuki does realize her son is trying to confess to you with these chocolates, but she's a woman too and she knows you, she's known you since you were small and she knows how much you care about her son. she knows from the way katsuki kept the chocolates to himself, the barely supressed giddiness in all of his actions and the way he took his time enjoying every bite she knows and realizes that these chocolates were most definitely just for him.

and she guessed maybe you were trying to tell him something too.

she knew her katsuki had absolutely nothing to worry about, because you carried you empty ring pop container around with you in your bag and proudly explained it was 'your husband katsu' that gave it to you with a giggle. because you'd kiss his cheek without worrying about the ooh's and the kissy noises, only her son's cherry red cheeks but proud smile. because you'd giggle and laugh when he still called you his wife well into elementary school, and because you still smile so wide at the mention of his little ring pop proposal. and so, she smiled. startling katsuki by rubbing his hair fast like an almost noogie. he growls at the sudden shift, gripping his mother's arm and pulling away with a scowl, rubbing and trying to fix his hair. "the hell are you doin', hag ?!" her son seethed, and all she can do is smile.

"you got nothin' to worry about, katsuki." she says sincerely, the boy's arms drop and altough his barely there pout remains he tries to act tough, raising a brow at her "how do you know that ?"

"call it mother's intuition." her smile widens at his scoff and rolled eyes, he's better at it now and she laughs. " why do you wanna give these to her ?" she urges. he thinks for a moment, before his cheeks burn red again but his eyes go soft and warm and so much more enamoured with you than he was all those years ago in the car.

"cus..i like her.." he confesses "an' i don't want anybody else to do it before me." he finishes bitterly.

he's always been protective of you. any other boy you were paired up with or sat next to when the class seating order changed was considered public enemy number one for a while. of course, you had him on a leash, always being able to soothe him by saying that he was your number one best friend. and that was more than enough for him to throw smart glares and snarky smirks, grabbing your hand and dragging you off somewhere to show you something cool. something he knew you'd find cool because he prided himself in knowing exactly what you liked more than the other boys. your favorite ice cream, flowers, and chocolate flavor.

and mitsuki smiles. "right, you like her. so you can't let that scare you off, can you ?" mitsuki feels her heart soaring with pride, albeit with a little amusement when her son scoffs in response "course not. i ain't scared of shit." he states, she decides to ignore the irony of his statement for now.

"of course," she nods "and just between us, i think she likes you, too. i dunno how she does but.." katsuki's eyes widen like she'd just told him something ridiculous, completely ignoring her jab at him. she has to hold back a harsh laugh at how oblivious her son could be.

"that's just my guess though !" she shrugs nonchalantly "but there's only one way to find out if i'm right.."

after a beat, katsuki nods to himself with a grunt, grabbing the tray of chocolates and putting it in the fridge, ready for tomorrow, and wordlessly rolling up his sleeves and starting the dishes, as mitsuki guessed, and she smiles. she pets her son's head again briefly, ignoring his dissaproving grumbles, before giving him a pat on the back and wishing him good luck.

the next day, katsuki walks over to her, sat on the couch, immediately after coming back from school, with a proud smirk and gleaming red cheeks. and mitsuki knew she had nothing to worry about as she grins back.

taglist *if your name is pink i unfortunately couldn’t tag you :(( : @73isthebestnumber @gold24fish @m-inluv @katsuisbaby @teddiiursulas-ink @moonbabysstuff @brandydel @queenpiranhadon @chuugarettes @starieq @aishio14 @andysdrafts @hyunorue @touyasprettydoll @itsfiive @annoying-bitxh @h0nestly-though @atinytiredpanromantic @mikalame @itzjustj-1000 @deepressed @evam23 @erenstitanweave @m-0ona @chaoticgay13 @lotusstarr @koreluvsspring @giannitaa @waterstarz @nayeonsdoormat @the-crazy-star-12 @kovu-bunnbunn

tumblr is tweakin so if some of your tags don't work m'so sorry :(((

#feelin a bit meh bout this one but i think i like it #i hope yall enjoy tho !! #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugou imagine #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou fluff #katsuki x you #katsuki x y/n #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugo drabble #bakugo x female reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n

[primofate]

"Where'd you get that bruise--Oh," in which your Genshin lover gets a good look at the first hickey he left

Warnings: please excuse mistakes as I'm on a time crunch and also sleep deprived, suggestive but still safe for work, humorous in some parts

Other works in this series: (You say I love you for the first time)

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Tighnari, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader  

Aether

gets flustered

"Uh-Umm... Maybe, you should..."

he wants to say cover it up but who is he to tell you what to do?

Starts to second guess if he really gave you that

Will start to think about the events of last night and deflates with embarrassment

Finally points it out, feels kind of bad that he left a mark

"It's just...distracting...I'm sorry if it hurt,"

Albedo

stares at it for the longest time.

There's a half smile, half amused look on his face, like he wants to be happy about it but doesn't want to be too obvious.

Just chuckles and points it out without any shyness whatsoever

"It's rather obvious, but do with it what you will,"

Comes up with some sort of concealing potion to help you hide it

Brews about a 100 of 'em

Alhaitham

Sort of does a double take, looks at it for a few seconds then looks you in the eye

"I'd advise you to hide it,"

he really only says that to keep things professional when the two of you go out

but in the next second he snakes a hand up your arm with a small secret smirk between the two of you

"However, I can't say that it won't happen again...Specially when..."

He recalls the events of last night at this moment, and it seems as if he's staring into your soul. He breaks away from you with a slight hum.

"...I best be going now."

He leaves you confused, but he only hurried off because he felt an urge to give you another one then and there.

Ayato

chuckles to himself

"Well, there's no hiding that I enjoyed myself,"

but gives you helpful suggestions on how to conceal it or at least make the colour less obvious, like putting ice against it, or something.

Speaking of ice, you can simply get it from the kitchen but Ayato is a tease... "I suppose my dear sister can adequately help you with that...Though what, pray tell, would you tell her?"

You kind of shrug and say that you'll tell her an animal bit you.

Ayato is amused "An animal," but there's a twinkle and hint of lust in his eyes. "Yes, perhaps that's what I become when it involves you. The statement isn't exactly a lie,"

Cyno

is silent. Not sure if he's happy about it or horrified.

Feels like a crime cause it looks like a bruise.

Does not say anything for a good minute because he simply doesn't know what to say and is talking to himself in his mind

Like Was I really the one who did that? Last night must've been...

Snaps out of his stupor when he's reminded of the events and clears his throat to catch your attention.

"Y/N...You...I...I've managed to leave a mark...on your neck..."

You absentmindedly touch it and let out a small ohhhhhhh in understanding

Clears his throat again and looks away, pretending to be busy with something. Flustered and doesn't know what else to say.

Dainsleif

Eyebrows involuntarily raise up at the marks.

Points it out immediately

"My dear, it seems that I had a favourite spot last night," and taps on your neck to let you know what exactly he means.

"I can conceal it with a little trick of mine, if you don't mind," he says he can make it invisible to the ordinary eye but some "special" people can see it, so...

"I suppose if you run into the traveller that you'd have to be honest about it. Hm? No, I don't quite mind if they know of our relationship,"

Diluc

is surprised, then apologetic

He didn't know is fully aware how rough he had been last night

Apologizes with a slight tint of red on his cheeks and can't seem to pry his eyes away from it.

"My apologies, Y/N. It looks like I was rather...careless...last night. You should wear something with a collar today...or perhaps, my coat?"

Is seriously considering repenting about it

Itto

"Whoa--"

Is legit about to throw hands but then remembers

"Oh yeah. I did that." while scratching his head bashfully

No shame about it afterwards, even has the gall to say

"I'm surprised it doesn't look worse! It was pretty wild last nig--"

You have to cover his mouth to save yourself from embarrassment

Kaeya

smirks and leans in close to brush his fingers against the hickey.

"It isn't the most flattering of marks but... it gives me quite the sense of accomplishment,"

winks, deadass tries to give you another one right away.

"How about we try that again? Just to even it out on both sides of your neck,"

is only half joking

Lyney

mischievous laugh

is more happy about it than shy, embarrassed or apologetic

"That wasn't very nice of me wasn't it?" but is still smiling

"Unfortunately I don't think I have any magic tricks up my sleeve to fix this one,"

Grabs and hugs you by the waist "I guess we'll just have to stay in, the two of us, until it's unnoticeable"

always looking for an excuse to spend alone time with you.

Neuvillette

clears his throat almost immediately when he sees it, like he choked on water

"Y/N," he starts rather sternly but falters and takes a few seconds to think.

"May I suggest wearing a scarf today?" is awkward about pointing it out so goes the roundabout way. You're so confused because it's the middle of summer.

"Well," he coughs once to try an explain to you. "I didn't have all manners of restraint last night...You were simply...irresistible,"

points it out by gently thumbing at it

Scaramouche

shit-eating grin at the sight of it

Doesn't tell you to cover it up, most likely wants you to go parading around with it.

"Tsk. What's the harm if people ask? Just be honest and tell them," he's just fucking around with your head now

but snatches your wrist and looks you straight in the eye with a confident smirk "And be sure to tell them who gave it to you. That'll teach them to back off,"

Tartaglia

laughs but is slightly apologetic

"Couldn't hold myself back, I'm sorry. How can I make it up to you?"

You tell him that the next time he leaves a hickey, he should leave it somewhere where it's more concealed.

"Oh?" sudden glint in his eyes. You might have said the wrong thing. "No take backs, Y/N,"

I think you know what or where he's thinking about

Tighnari

Doesn't say anything at first but immediately whips up a remedy for it. Some sort of green paste that helps with inflammation.

"Here," and hands you the bowl of herbs. "For that,"

He doesn't point at it but instead eyes it rather obviously

He also watches you put the paste on "Alright, just leave it for a few minutes and it should heal wonderfully,"

He doesn't exactly feel guilty but he's more worried that people will look at you weirdly.

"I suppose I'll have to be careful next time," with a sigh.

Wriothesley

laughs but bashfully face palms and tilts his head backwards

Recovers quickly and smiles apologetically

"Sorry love, couldn't hold myself back it looks like," lovingly takes your face in his palms

Can't hold his smile back "But can you blame me? I'm not gunna hide that I was way too excited,"

Suggests you to put a bandage of some sort over it.

"I'll try to be careful next time, but no promises,"

Xiao

Freezes while looking at it

For a split second is confused where you got such a mark but then flusters himself when he remembers it was from him.

"...Y/N..."

seriously does not know what to say

stands there staring at it that you finally just check in the mirror yourself. He hears you gasp and he kind of winces to himself and now feels a little guilty.

"I...didn't mean to hurt you,"

You quickly tell him it doesn't hurt, but you were just surprised.

Thinks for a moment, then mumbles, you can barely hear him "...So it's alright to do it again?"

Zhongli

chuckles, not shy about it. just amused.

"It's no one's fault except my own. I merely wasn't paying heed to how...carnal...my desires were,"

he again chuckles as he explains.

"Not to worry darling, I'm sure Bubu Pharmacy has something to remedy it. I'll be back with it in tow,"

brushes his fingers against the hickey as some sort of apology and promise that he'll fix it

End

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Here’s the Masterlist

#genshin impact #genshin fluff #itto x reader #ayato x reader #neuvillette x reader #genshin x reader #wriothesley x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #cyno x reader #xiao x reader #lyney x reader #tighnari x reader #scaramouche x reader #alhaitham x reader

[joelscruff]

a kindness you can't afford (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

kofi | a/n this is a sequel to my fic 'to freeze or to thaw', it's mainly just a lot of filth cause that's all my brain can handle at the moment lmao. pls be sure to check the warnings before reading & i hope you enjoy 💕 also shoutout to the incredible @toxicanonymity whose joel/reader/tommy fics inspired me to get tommy involved here. would highly recommend her fics stuffing & sweet little mess for a similar vibe. summary: there are no limits to how or when joel plays with his special girl. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: dark!joel, ddlg dynamics, daddy kink, big unspecified age gap (reader is of legal age), unprotected p in v sex, creampies, free use, somnophilia, cockwarming, squirting, light pussy slapping, size kink (joel's dick is huge), tummy bulge, oral (m receiving), praise kink, dirty talk, pet names (use of 'little one'), finger sucking, exhibitionism, mentions of pregnancy (but no risk), lil bit of tommy x reader teasing 👀(if you don't like tommy x reader then you prob won't like this) word count: 4.1k

He's so kind.

You've never known kindness like this before; never known the soothing whispers and gentle praises, the calming touches, the satisfying taste of homemade soup on your tongue, the comfort of a roaring fire, made just for you. You've never known the warm embrace of a much older man, the strong arms and solid chest, greying hair and sharp scruff, soft belly and thick cock. You'd spent most of your life in a frightening QZ, the past few years in a cold and unforgiving forest, and now - the warm safety of a cabin.

Woken by the gentle caress of two fingers against your forehead, pushing your hair back gently, a kiss to your bare shoulder, the heat of his solid form behind you, and the press of his hot tip to your soft opening. He doesn't ask, but he doesn't need to.

He pushes inside and you hum sleepily, drifting in and out a little as he feeds you the rest of his cock in one slow movement. Your eyes flutter but you keep them closed, nuzzling against the fluff of your pillow as he pulls you in and presses his body to yours, the hair along his torso tickling the sensitive skin of your back as the throbbing tip of his cock kisses that special spot in your tummy. He's so big inside you, taking up so much space in your body that it's mind numbing.

"Go back to sleep," he murmurs, pulling more hair away from your face and trailing his fingers along your cheek soothingly. His big cock twitches inside you, but he doesn't move, stays still as he waits for you to drift back into unconsciousness.

And you do. But not for long.

You're woken what you're sure must only be a few moments later to the feeling of his cock throbbing within the furthest parts of you, pulsing thick spurts of cum deep inside your body as he holds you tight and groans raggedly in your ear. His fingers are suddenly working furiously against your clit, circling and rubbing and pressing and making you cry out sleepily into the dark cabin. With barely any awareness, you feel the hot coil in your lower belly snap - and you're gushing. You feel him tug his cock out of you at just the right moment, just as a steady stream of liquid makes it's way past your freshly fucked hole, and you squeal.

"Shhh, baby," he soothes, but you can hear the smile in his voice as he watches your juices stain the dark wooden floorboards, watches it drip down into the blankets and soak the cotton, "Shh, I know, I know."

You whimper and squeeze your fists together, releasing another stream of liquid as your eyes roll back. An unintelligible string of words slip past your lips, slurred and broken, almost like you're speaking another language. He pulls you in and hushes you again, presses a finger to your lips as you convulse beside him in the bed.

"That's enough now," he murmurs softly, kissing your cheek and still rubbing your clit, pushing for more, "That's enough, little one. Go back to sleep."

He says this to you as if you can even control your sounds, your movements, as if your pussy continuing to gush isn't a result of his own actions, but he already knows this. He enjoys it, likes watching you fight to regain proper consciousness again after you squirt, likes watching you try to stop it from happening. And god, does he love to make it happen.

"Can't, daddy," you mumble, voice thick with sleep and pleasure, brows furrowed as you open your eyes to look down and see where he's still circling, "Can't stop wh-when you rub it like that."

You feel him press a kiss to your ear, watch him pull his fingers back from your pussy and slap them down lightly, then again, then twice more in succession. Another small gush of liquid spurts from your hole after the fourth slap, and he chuckles.

"Sleep," he whispers, slowing his movements, "I'll stop now, promise."

So you do, and he does - not before slipping his wet fingers past your lips for you to gently suck as you drift. You vaguely hear him murmur Daddy's perfect girl before you're lost to the world again.

You dream of him, as you always do.

--

He learned very early on that you could squirt. It wasn't even something you were aware of yourself - how could you be? It's not like you'd had many sexual encounters before this, none of them ever worthwhile anyway, and you'd never had it happen to you on your own either. But it's somehow easy for Joel to make it happen, once he knows he can, so easy that now it's one of his favorite things to do when he plays with you.

The first time, you'd been more than surprised - and very confused. You'd been spread out naked between Joel's clothed legs, back against his chest while four of his thick fingers pumped deep inside of you, thumb tapping your clit. He'd crooked them, curved his fingertips in the slightest way - and suddenly there had been a gush of heat, a heavy stream of release. You'd thought you'd done something else, something that had your cheeks warming and embarrassment flooding through your body as you twitched and cried in his arms. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, it was an accident.

He'd hushed you softly, kissed your lips tenderly and explained to you what it actually was.

"You're such a good girl," he'd praised, carefully easing your head into his lap and threading his fingers through your hair, eyes peering down at where your legs lay open, pussy still dripping, "Such a good girl with the sweetest little pussy, baby. Squirtin' just for me, just for her daddy, huh?"

You'd closed your eyes and let him hold you, soothe you, relax you. I know, little one. Did such a good job. M'so prouda you. Then he'd unzipped his jeans and fed his heavy cock into your mouth, let you suck on his leaking tip quietly for a few moments before he came down your throat with a long sigh, still stroking your hair. After you'd swallowed every drop, opened your mouth wide and showed him your clean tongue, he'd bundled you up and disappeared from the tent to make you dinner, off to fulfill that never-ending kindness and care he'd promised from the beginning. It had only been about a week since that first night where he'd first come into your tent, and you were already settling into the role of his special girl and doing it quite happily.

He'd made you squirt again later that night, had you shaking in his arms and gushing around his cock and close to tears, not because you were afraid or in pain but because it just felt so good. A relief, a release, a moment of bliss, all because of him. Your pussy had pushed his cock out of you with the pressure of your release, and you'd fallen back against him, sleepy and sated.

"Daddy," you'd whined, overstimulated and exhausted as he'd slipped his dick back inside your dripping heat, "Daddy, m'gonna fall asleep."

"That's okay, baby," he'd whispered, fucking into you slow with no plans of stopping, cock bulging in your trembling belly, "You can go to sleep."

You'd woken again a little later, warm in his arms, globs of cum drooling from your opening. You'd whimpered softly, reached down and touched where you were leaking, and - without even really thinking about it - gathered what he'd left there and pushed it back inside yourself before drifting back to sleep, safe against his chest.

--

The cabin you reside in is only temporary, though you wish you could stay longer. The group came across it in the early hours of yesterday morning, and you've spent most of that time naked in one of its four beds, sleepy and content among the warm sheets. It's been so long since you felt the comfort of a real bed, a soft mattress and thick blankets, and from the moment you passed the threshold Joel was adamant that you spend as much time in it as possible.

He's so kind.

He's been planning something with the others, an upcoming raid, a plan of attack, but you don't pay much attention to those things. When it all goes down, Joel has assured you that you won't be anywhere near the carnage, still safe and warm in the cabin until his return.

"Need you safe, little one," he'd told you softly last night, fingers scratching soothingly across your bare back, "Can't have anythin' happenin' to you." He'd kissed you tenderly, whiskers tickling your lips and making you giggle. "You'll stay here with Tommy, he'll take care o' you."

"Tommy?" you'd asked curiously, unsure which member of the group he was referring to.

"My number two." He'd brushed his nose against yours, touching his index finger to your bottom lip and tugging gently, "Don't worry, baby. I trust him."

"Okay, Daddy."

You can hear his muffled voice now through the door of your room, though you can't make out what he's saying. He's addressing the group, going over plans, but you're sleepy and have been in and out of consciousness for most of the afternoon, lost in the comfort of your warm bed. It's only when you hear someone say the girl, that your ears prick up, brows furrowing as soon as you realize they're talking about you.

Only seconds later there's a light tap on your door and you sit up in bed, gathering the sheets around yourself as it opens. You peer wide eyed at one of the other men of the group, standing there with a hand on his hip and his head tilted charmingly to the side. He's very handsome, dark haired and mustached and from what you've seen, always pretty well put together. You think this one is Tommy, the number two, but you're still not entirely sure.

"Your daddy needs you, sweetheart," he says calmly, though his eyes tell a different story - he looks at you hungrily, like they all do, gaze going glassy and dark. "He asked me to help you get dressed."

"Oh," you whisper, nodding slowly, "Okay." Knowing it's what Joel wants, you let the sheets drop, and now the man you think is Tommy can see that you're completely naked on the bed, exposed and soft. It's nothing new or alarming - Joel has not been discreet when it comes to your relationship, and you're no stranger to the men taking peeks at you, peering inside your tent when Joel's not there, watching the rise and fall of your breasts as you pretend to be asleep.

You watch as this man's eyes fall to your pussy, and you can't explain why it throbs beneath his gaze.

"He just wants you in a dress," he murmurs, leaning down and assessing the few garments folded near the bed that make up your incredibly simple wardrobe; two dresses, two shirts, one pair of jeans. He picks the warmer dress, the blue one with long sleeves, which you greatly appreciate; the cabin may be warm, but it's still the middle of winter.

He approaches the bed with a smile, unfolding the dress.

"Arms up, sweetheart," he says softly, and you obey. You wait for him to help guide your arms and head through but he doesn't, instead opting to stand there for a moment just looking at you. His eyes are glued to your breasts, smile still curving his lips as he reaches out and very gently strokes the side of one with his knuckle. You shiver.

"You're so pretty, honey," he murmurs, trailing his finger up and down slowly, just shy of your nipple, "You know that?"

You nod slowly, eyes hooded and arms still extended, "I- I think so."

His thumb finds your nipple and rubs it gently, bringing it to life under his fingertips. "Your daddy's been takin' real good care of ya, hasn't he?" he asks quietly, circling the hardening nub, "In a lotta ways."

You nod again, aware of a slow trickle of warmth beginning to pool between your legs, and unsure whether what's happening right now is something Joel would want. "Y-yeah."

"Heard him fuckin' you to sleep last night," he breathes, and the words send another throb to your pussy, "He was all up in your guts, wasn't he?" His hand suddenly moves from your breast to your bare tummy, and he palms the soft skin there delicately, "Right here?" You nod again and he smiles.

"You make the prettiest little sounds when you're gettin' fucked like that, babygirl."

His praises send tingles up and down your spine like Joel's do, as well as a blooming warmth to your cheeks. "Thank you," you whisper, unsure what else to say to such a statement.

"You're welcome, sweetheart." As he says it, the fingers on your stomach trail downward a little bit to rest on your mound. He strokes the skin there gently, thumb dipping low to brush against your outer lips. "Soft little pussy," he murmurs, smiling kindly at you again, "You like havin' this all filled up, honey?"

You nod again, still unsure the point of his questioning, of his touches, but also not really wanting him to stop. A quiet whimper slips past your lips when you feel the tip of his thumb lightly brush past your clit and prod very gently against your hole. There's no way he doesn't feel the sudden wetness there, the slow drip of stickiness and the warmth of your arousal, as well the faint remnants of Joel's cum still leaking from where he'd fucked you a few hours ago - he hums quietly, unsurprised.

"Yeah, you like bein' full," he breathes, that dark glint returning to his gaze as his thumb just barely pushes inside, "Y'like bein' used."

It's not a question, but you nod anyway.

He suddenly removes his hand from your pussy and finally helps you with your dress, pulling it down over your arms and shoulders and helping you stand on wobbly legs. With another kind smile, he brings his hand up and gently brushes your cheek.

"So pretty, babygirl" he repeats quietly, "Like a little angel, ain't ya?" He suddenly presses his thumb gently against your mouth, lightly prodding for entrance, and without much thought you allow him to slip it inside; it tastes like your arousal. Eyes sleepy and pussy throbbing, you suck on his thumb obediently, as if it's just second nature to do so.

"Christ," he mutters, watching your lips as you suckle around his thick thumb, "Now that's a good girl."

"Tommy!" Joel's voice from the other room suddenly shouts, and the man who you now know for sure to be Tommy - the man who Joel is planning on leaving you with during the raid - quickly pulls his thumb from your wet mouth.

"Come on, sweetheart," he says, smiling crookedly, "Let's go see what your daddy wants."

--

There are five other men in Joel's group, from what you've gathered, including Tommy. Four of whom currently stand in a half circle in the front room of the cabin, arms crossed, boots tapping, attention directed at Joel who sits in a dusty armchair in the corner of the room. They all turn to look at you when the bedroom door opens, and watch with those familiar glazed expressions as Tommy brings you to their leader.

Joel's serious expression grows soft when he sees you, a small smile gracing his lined face. He peers at you, crooks his fingers. Without needing to be asked, Tommy carefully hoists you up into Joel's lap. His thumbs linger for a moment on your waist, a small stroke so quick you're not sure Joel notices - you're not sure you want him to - and then he's pulling away to stand beside the chair, asserting the role of number two.

It only takes a few seconds for you to realize that Joel's cock is out, hidden beneath the thick cotton of his jacket, out of sight. With no hesitation you wrap your arms around his neck and open your legs, laying your face against his shoulder and sighing contentedly when you feel his tip notch at your wet entrance. Not fully hard yet, he pushes inside carefully, subtly, and you ease yourself down just as quietly to sheathe him inside of you. You close your eyes and nuzzle into the warmth of his coat, already feeling the soft weight of him begin to stiffen.

You've done this before. Sometimes when he's overwhelmed, in over his head, needing to be grounded, he likes to have you sit on it. The first time it happened you weren't sure how to feel, self conscious with the other members of the group staring and knowing that you were full of him, soft whimpers escaping your mouth with every small movement or jostle. It's okay, little one, Joel had whispered, barely audible, you just focus on me.

Now, it's second nature. You can feel their eyes on your back and you know they can tell what's happening beneath Joel's coat. But now you find that you don't really care.

He starts talking then, continues whatever it was he was discussing before you left the bedroom. It becomes white noise almost immediately, your eyelashes fluttering as you bury your face further into his shoulder and focus on the feeling of his thick cock growing large inside of you. You love the way it stretches you, pushes, begins to prod up and against your cervix. It pulses and twitches within your walls and you squeeze down on him tighter, mewling a little without really meaning to.

At your noise you suddenly hear a soft chuckle from directly beside the armchair. You open your eyes halfway, looking up sleepily at Tommy who's still standing to your left. He smiles at you like he did before, a twinkle in his eye, and then winks. He obviously knows what's going on - standing so close, there's no way he didn't see you settle onto Joel's cock.

You peer back at him, blinking your eyes slowly and tightening your arms around Joel's neck. He tilts his head, and you suddenly let a smile turn up the corners of your lips. Look Tommy, you almost want to whisper, he's all up in my guts, like you said. You're not sure why you feel so unbothered under Tommy's gaze, why you don't yearn for him to look away like the others and for him to pretend it's not happening. There's a feeling in the pit of your stomach that you can't explain, that you don't want to explain.

You stay settled like that on Joel's cock for about fifteen minutes, letting the deep voices of the men around you fade into the background. You close your eyes again but you can still feel Tommy's eyes on you, watching, assessing. Every now and then Joel carefully adjusts you, driving himself a little deeper each time, sending tiny bursts of pleasure throughout your body as your pussy leaks around the intrusion. If Tommy were to lift you up again you know there'd be a dark spot at the front of your dress, a trail of slick on Joel's coat.

One particular adjustment moves the edge of the lining of Joel's coat between your folds, coming to rub against your clit, and without any warning you feel yourself start to come. Your soft cry interrupts the voices of the group, a hush of silence suddenly blanketing the room as you tighten around Joel's cock and gush around him, shaking in his embrace. His arms come up to hold you close, rubbing your back soothingly.

You look up at Tommy again and find that his eyes are hooded as he watches you, lips parted and brow furrowed with what can only be arousal as he watches you fall apart on another man's cock.

"Christ," you hear one of the men murmur, and you feel heat flush your cheeks and ears, the self consciousness returning in full swing as you come down from your orgasm, burying your face in Joel's coat once again.

"Not a fuckin' word, Perry" Joel states, voice firm.

The conversation continues like nothing happened, and you try to let the sudden embarrassment you feel dissipate as much as possible despite still being impaled on Joel's length. You nuzzle against the warmth of his neck, sighing and trying to get your breathing back to normal. Your cunt continues to spasm around him in small twitches, aftershocks, soft whimpers still falling from your lips unconsciously. It doesn't take long for the sounds and sensations to set him off, and there's another lull in the discussion as Joel tenses underneath you and starts to come.

"Oh for fuck's sake," you hear the same voice from before mutter, but his commentary is suddenly lost beneath a soft groan from Joel as his cock twitches inside you. It pulses warmly, thick bursts of cum painting your insides. You gasp softly and squeeze your thighs against his, letting him fill you up in slow and steady spurts, claiming you. Daddy's special girl.

There's a moment of silence, a deep sigh from Joel, and you wait with the rest of the group for him to speak.

"You wanna say that again?" he finally says, voice gruffer this time but stern and serious, as if he didn't just come inside you in front of a room full of his men, "Huh, Perry? You wanna fuckin' say that again?"

Another beat of silence. Then-

"I'm just sayin'," the man named Perry grumbles somewhere behind you, "Aren't you worried you're gonna get her pregnant? I mean, Jesus Christ, Joel, we don't need another fuckin' mouth to feed."

The words send a shockwave through your body, eyes widening.

"And where the fuck do you get off tellin' me what I can and can't do?" Joel asks angrily. His body has gone stiff beneath you but you think you've gone equally as stiff against him, Perry's words suddenly circling over and over again throughout your mind.

Pregnant? Could you be pregnant?

"I don't know if y'all remember," Joel says coldly, "but back in my day there was a little thing called a fuckin' vasectomy. Need me to explain it?"

"Oh, fuck off, Miller."

You suddenly find yourself peering upwards again at Tommy, eyes still wide as Joel and Perry start to have a go at each other. He looks at you once, brows scrunching together when he sees the sudden look of shock in your expression, the confusion, the fear.

"We've all been thinkin' it," Perry is saying, voice slightly shaky in his anger, "It's a valid fuckin' concern."

"Well now it ain't a concern at all," Tommy suddenly jumps in, hands clenching into fists at his sides, "She ain't gettin' pregnant, he's shootin' blanks."

His protectiveness sends another confusing feeling of warmth to that pit in your stomach. Your heart is pounding as you continue to peer up at him, eyes still wide, and he shoots you a soft look of reassurance before turning his attention back to Joel.

"Don't know why you had to have her in the fuckin' first place," Perry spits, "She's just some fuckin' girl. And now we gotta stand around and watch you fuck her all the time? It's fuckin' sick."

Joel stands suddenly, almost like he's forgotten you're sitting in his lap, jostling you to the side as his cock slips out of you. You take a step backwards, finding yourself bumping into Tommy's solid form as Joel zips up his jeans and tilts his head from side to side, bones cracking loudly in the tense room. You can finally see this Perry now, a much younger man with dark hair, standing a few feet away. He's thin, almost gaunt looking.

Joel could kill him so easily if he wanted to.

But he doesn't. Instead, he reaches down and takes your hand, pulls you away from the group and back toward the cabin bedroom. He mutters something under his breath to Tommy in passing, something you can't make out, and as he ushers you inside the room you hear the heavy shuffling of boots as the men are lead back out into the snow.

--

He explains to you what a vasectomy is.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

Wrapped up in warm bedsheets again, you close your eyes and nuzzle against his chest, letting his large form crowd and comfort you, his arms firm around your waist. You can feel his cum starting to drip from you under your dress, making a mess of your thighs.

"I don't like the way he talked to you, daddy," you whisper like it's a secret, voice hushed and muffled against his coat, "I didn't like it at all."

He sighs, pulls you in closer and presses a kiss to the top of your head. "I'll take care of it, little one," he murmurs softly, a sense of finality in his quiet words, "Don't you worry your pretty little head."

He's so kind.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #* #tommy miller x reader

[theemporium]

[2.6k] following the aftermath of the impromptu vegas wedding, little leclerc and max navigate married life. and charles is still not coping well with the whole situation.

series masterlist

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“Does this mean I get to sit in the Red Bull garage in Abu Dhabi?” 

Charles’ head snapped around, his jaw clenched and his nostrils flaring. And if he wasn’t currently on hold with the fifth lawyer he had contacted in the last hour, you could’ve sworn he would’ve jumped over the bed and smothered you with the pillow you were currently holding to your chest. 

“Don’t give me that look,” you muttered as you rolled your eyes. “Maybe I want a change of scenery. I’m always in the Ferrari garage.”

“You’ve seen the Alpha Tauri and the Alpine garage too,” Charles retorted. 

You shot him a blank look. “That’s because you have Pierre watching over me like a stalker.” 

“No, he’s just being your friend,” your brother tried again. 

“So him barking at the mechanic who was just getting me water had nothing to do with the promise you made him keep?” You countered, watching as a flush of pink spread across Charles’ cheeks. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he scoffed with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

“Liar, Pierre told me about the promise,” you mused, watching as his face burned even brighter at your admission. 

As it would turn out, finding a last minute lawyer to completely null and break the marriage was much harder than Charles ever intended it to be. And after he was practically forced to halt his attempts until the race had passed, the high of P2 didn’t seem to thwart your brother’s efforts in completely shattering the connection between you and Max Verstappen. 

He had spent every free and waking moment trying to sort out the mess, including now contacting lawyers back in Monaco to get involved. And yet, the boy seemed to be getting nowhere. 

“Shouldn’t you be focused on the last race of the season instead of this mess anyways?” You continued as your eyes glanced over at the clock on the wall. “We need to leave for the airport soon. I don’t think they are going to hold the jet because you’re phoning divorce lawyers—even if you’re Charles Leclerc.” 

“You seem eager to stay married to him,” Charles grumbled under his breath as he narrowed his eyes at you. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Was this planned? Have you been seeing him for a while now?” 

“Are you hearing yourself right now?” You shook your head, letting out a huff as you pulled the pillow closer to your chest. “How come Yuki isn’t getting as much shit as I am?” 

“Because Yuki is not my sister,” he stated simply, pausing for a moment before he continued. “Plus, Yuki and his partner seem very happily married.” 

You perked up a little. “Wait, you know who he married?” 

“Well no,” Charles admitted, his brows furrowing together. “But he must be, no? He’s been happy ever since the wedding. They must be keeping it private.” 

“Apparently he didn’t even tell Pierre,” you said to your brother, leaning back against the headboard with a sigh. “Maybe he’s embarrassed with who he married.” 

“Can’t be more embarrassing than marrying you—OW!” 

“Don’t say stupid things then,” you snapped back at him with an innocent smile on your face. “You’re just pissed I got married before you.” 

Charles’ glare hardened. “No, I’m pissed because you got married in Vegas of all places.” There was a pause. “And the fact you practically married a stranger!”

“Max is hardly a stranger, you’ve known him since you were like five years old!” You argued back.

“Still a stranger!”

“You are so dramatic,” you commented. “Maman accepted it, why can’t you?”

“Maman is confused,” Charles muttered with a crease between his eyebrows. 

You raised your brows. “Did you say that to her?”

Charles’ face paled a little. “Well no—”

Your grin widened.

Charles blanched. “Don’t you dare!”

You cackled as you reached for your phone. “This is payback for disrespecting me and my husband!” 

...

...

“I don’t understand why I have to be blindfolded.”

“It’s a precaution insisted by Christian.”

“Do all wives have to be blindfolded then?”

“The ones with the former name Leclerc do.”

You pressed your lips together to hide your smile as you wrapped your arms around Max’s bicep, letting him lead you into the Red Bull garage with the black cloth tied over your eyes. You knew you probably didn’t have long until Charles came running to drag you out of the Red Bull garage and back to the red side, so you took up Max’s offer in the meantime. 

You didn’t count on Christian Horner being two steps away from Red Bull’s very own Christian Grey to his garage guests. 

“Does this mean I get to blindfold you when you come to the Ferrari garage?” You asked, your voice lighthearted and your tone teasing. 

“It is one of the scenarios I would let you blindfold me,” Max answered and it took everything in you to not suddenly halt your steps. 

“Max Verstappen, you little flirt,” you said as you let out a disbelieving laugh, hoping the boy hadn’t turned back to look at you when you could feel your face heating up. 

“You’re my wife. Surely I’m allowed to flirt with you now,” the Dutchman retorted, his hands moving to rest over yours as you two finally came to a stop. 

“You’re saying you wouldn’t have flirted with me before?” 

“That feels like a trick question,” Max snorted before his fingers nimbly undid the knot behind your head, letting the blindfold fall away from your eyes as he stood in front of you with an almost smug look on his face. “But I would have flirted with you if I didn’t think your brother would have my balls for it.”

“So you just married me instead,” you retorted with a smile of your own.

“What can I say, I don’t half-ass things,” he said with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“I should have known you give the vibes of a Vegas wedding kinda guy,” you remarked as you blinked a few times, getting used to the shift in light as you began looking around the garage. It didn’t look too different from the Ferrari garage, but it was still intriguing to witness it all. 

A different team. A different car. A different work ethic. 

After so many years with Ferrari, it felt like being in a foreign country as you stood amongst so much blue.

“What kind of wedding would you have wanted?” 

The question snapped you out of your daze, whirling your head around to look at the Dutchman with a curious expression. You waited to see if a witty remark was going to follow, but he continued to stare at you expectantly and you realised he was genuinely waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “I mean, I know my mother always wanted me to have a fairytale wedding at some pretty venue in a white dress and—”

“I didn’t ask what wedding your mother would have wanted, I asked what wedding you would have wanted,” Max interrupted, and your lips parted a little in surprise. 

“A fun one,” you replied. 

Max’s brows furrowed together. “A fun one?”

“Yes, a fun one. You asked me what wedding I would want and it’s a fun one,” you repeated with a nod of your head, smiling a little at the visible confusion written across his face. “Everybody always talks about weddings being so intense and stressful and that’s just…not me. I don’t care about where it is or what season it’s held in. I would just want to be with the people I love and I want to have a good time.” 

He nodded, his lips pressed together as though he was processing your answer. “Surely the Vegas wedding fits that.”

“It would have if my family and friends were there,” you said, laughing a little. “Despite the dinner invite, Maman will probably string me up for not getting married with her there.”

Max’s eyes widened comically. “Wait, she was serious about that?” 

You snorted. “She’s already sent me the menu.”

“I am actually having dinner with your mother?” Max hissed and, for the first time in your life witnessed with your own eyes, you could have sworn he looked nervous.

“She won’t bite,” you laughed. 

“Oh my god, I am meeting your mother.”

“Well, she does want to meet the man I married.” 

“Oh my god, I am meeting your mother as your husband.”

...

...

“Be honest: would you have made me a bridesmaid at your wedding?” 

You blinked, looking up from the burrito bowl you had managed to grab from Ferrari’s catering before you looked at the blond across from you. 

“Or a bridesman. Whatever you call it,” Logan continued as he looked at you expectantly. 

You stared at the American with a fairly blank expression, though it didn’t seem to do much to his eagerness for you to answer the question. Though, you didn’t know why you were surprised about the whole thing. The last week had been Logan throwing random questions at you, Arthur laughing at your facial expressions and Oscar deeply sighing at the whole interaction. 

“You weren’t even invited to the wedding,” Oscar pointed out, poking about the salad bowl he had. 

“Neither were you,” Logan retorted.

“And thank god for that, Lando showed me the pictures,” Oscar grumbled with his nose scrunched up. “I would have been traumatised for life if I witnessed it with my own two eyes.” 

“Hey,” you frowned, kicking your foot out under the table until you hit his shin. “You know what, I’m suddenly excited not to see either of you during the winter break.”

Oscar snorted. “Sure.” 

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Logan piped up, his attention shifting to you once again. “Would you let me?”

“Depends,” you answered honestly as you leaned back in your seat. “Would you want to do a speech?”

Logan scoffed. “Obviously.”

“Then no,” you replied almost instantly.

The boy gaped at you. “What? Why not?”

“Because I don’t trust you,” you stated simply before you glanced over at Oscar too. “Neither of you, if I’m being honest.”

Oscar’s brows furrowed together. “Woah, what did I do?” 

“Existed,” you grumbled under your breath, only for the Australian to be the one to kick your shin under the table this time. “Ouch!”

“Not so fun, is it?” He grumbled back at you. 

“You didn’t even have a speech at your wedding! Surely no speech is worse than a bad one,” Logan added, far too invested on a speech you doubted he could even write.

“That’s not true. Yuki did a speech,” you told him.

Both boys’ raised their eyebrows. “He did?”

“Probably, seems like something he would do,” you shrugged. 

“Or maybe his partner gave it,” Oscar added. “Whoever that may be.”

“I can’t believe he still won’t tell us,” you said with your lips turned downwards. “In the Red Bull garage, Christian even asked him and he just giggled before running off.” 

“Maybe he’s a private guy.”

“You were in the Red Bull garage?” 

“Your difference in priorities are baffling,” you noted with an amused expression. “Yes, I was in the Red Bull garage. And Yuki being a private person is a load of bullshit. He’s the biggest gossip on the grid, he’s just sneakier than everyone else.”

“Which means he would hide it better,” Oscar pointed out. 

“At least Yuki would let me say a speech at his wedding,” Logan muttered under his breath.

“Would he though?”

“Shut up.” 

“I’m just saying—”

“You know what, I hope Lando scars you with more photos from her wedding,” Logan threatened, staring at the Aussie with narrowed eyes.

“Hey, my wedding photos aren’t that scary!” You frowned.

“The one of Max’s tongue down your throat says otherwise.”

“I am literally trying to eat my salad, can both of you shut up?”

...

...

“So, are we gonna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“Your wedding.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Ha! Sure!”

Max’s brows furrowed together as he lifted his head, only to find the Australian staring at him already. They had both been huddled in his driver room in between meetings and practise sessions, enjoying some peace and quiet before the social media team tried to rope them into some weird activity. However, what Max assumed would be a mostly silent hangout where he could read over some data quickly devolved into the older Australian making little remarks until he finally gave in and put his tablet down.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh nothing,” Daniel said as he gave the boy a casual shrug, though his grin only seemed to widen in response. Max was about to open his mouth, to tell him that was fine before he returned to his work, but the Aussie already began speaking again. “I just think it’s such a funny coincidence that your childhood crush is now your wife.”

Max froze, his cheeks instantly heating up at his words. “I don’t know what you’re on about.”

“No? The conversation where you told me you had the fattest crush on Charles’ little sister growing up and used to constantly try to impress her on the karting races she visited doesn’t ring a bell?” Daniel continued, feigning innocence despite the fact he could see Max’s face growing pinker by the second.

“I think you have the wrong person,” Max said as he cleared his throat, suddenly finding his tablet interesting once again even though the numbers and words on the screen were practically gibberish to his whirling mind.

“And the conversation where you couldn’t stop talking about how pretty she was when you bumped into her in the paddock on Charles’ first Formula One race?”

“You must have imagined that conversation.”

“What about the time you ignored that famous actor because Lando told you he flirted with her when he visited the Ferrari garage?”

“I have no recognition of that.”

“And the time you—”

“Is there a point to this?” Max suddenly interrupted him, his face feeling as though it was on fire and his heart beating wildly in his chest and the smug look on his friend’s face was doing little to help the feelings bubbling in his stomach. 

“I am just waiting to see when you’re going to admit you masterminded this whole thing,” Daniel said to him, so sure and blunt about the statement.

“I didn’t mastermind anything,” Max said with a frown. “We got drunk and we got married in Vegas. Many people have done it before us. Many people will do it after us too.”

“And the fact she was your first love?” Daniel questioned.

“She was not,” Max scoffed, pausing for a moment before he continued. “And even if she was, I don’t like her like that anymore.”

“Oh, of course,” Daniel snickered under his breath. “So I am assuming you’re rushing to help Charles find a divorce lawyer then?”

Max paused for a few seconds too long. “Yeah, I mean. After the last race, obviously. My focus needs—”

“To be on a race that has no effect on your life other than adding another trophy to your shelf?” Daniel teased. “As if you couldn’t be talking to lawyers on the radio whilst racing with your eyes shut.”

“It’s just not a priority right now,” Max huffed out, clearing his throat a little.

“Uh huh,” Daniel laughed, shaking his head. “You know, usually the first step is a date, not marriage but I am going to respect whatever lil’ mastermind plan you have concocted in your head.”

Max let out a whine, throwing his head back. “I don’t have a plan!”

Daniel raised his brows. “So inviting her to watch the race from the Red Bull garage is just a random act of kindness to the enemy then?”

“She’s my wife, not the enemy. And it’s not random at all.”

Daniel snorted.

“Oh fuck off,” Max grumbled. “This is why you weren’t invited to the wedding in the first place.” 

“Actually, you did—”

“Shut up.”

...

liked by arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 261, 738 others

yourusername season over and out🫡gonna go bully charles with the dutch national anthem for three months now

view all 13,547 comments

landonorris that's just evil

yourusername shut up or i will bully you too

landonorris why are you so rude when i am literally your personal photographer

yourusername you still made me pay for dinner

user IS THAT MAX???

user omg not the red bull/ferrari contrast

user i wonder how charles is taking this

arthur_leclerc still badly

oscarpiastri i have been begging for you to wear a mclaren cap all year

yourusername keep begging, loser

user the montagues and capulets could never

logansargeant i'm taking the blue as williams support too

maxverstappen1 keep telling yourself that

yourusername be nice

user HELP THE WAY HE IS PROTECTING THE RED BULL BLUE IN THE COMMENTS

user this is my roman empire

charles_leclerc take this down

yourusername no

charles_leclerc take this down please

yourusername still no

maxverstappen1 too much red

yourusername you said i looked good in red :(

maxverstappen1 i said you looked good in red bull merch, get your facts right

yourusername someone's cranky after all the shots last night

user THEY HAVE JUST ACCEPTED THE MARRIAGE AND BLATANTLY STARTED FLIRTING ON MAIN STOP

charles_leclerc why would you say this

.

#max verstappen #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

[horrorartsworld]

P☆RN STAR

valentino/shy bunny based demon f!reader

warnings: 18+ nsfw content duh

Valentino takes a long drag of his cigarette as he sits next to Vox in his booming night club, “Club Hell 666”, speaking about the recent activities and work related stuff that’s been going on between the two of them.

So involved in the conversation the moth man didn’t realize the tiny figure that walked up to him.

“U-ummm…excuse me Mr. Valentino sir…” Your soft voice could barley be heard over the obnoxiously loud music that was playing that you could practically feel the bass thumping along with the rhythm of your heartbeat.

You rub your arm awkwardly standing there for a moment before Vox nudges Val in the side nodding over to you.

He blows out his red smoke letting it swirl around you causing you to cough a little and scrunch your nose.

“My…my~” He tilts his head with an amused smirk as he eyes you up and down letting his heart-shaped sunglasses slide down for you to get a better view of his piercing eyes.

“What brings you to me, cariño?~”

You hug yourself closely trying to not let your eyes wander to the dancers or workers dressed in skimpy clothing walking past, you were quite nervous as it is to talk to the Overlord of Lust for a job…

“I-i’m here for work…”

“Work hmmm? Well you came to the right person, sweetheart. A pretty thing like you~…” He dramatically pauses for a second taking in your figure once more before continuing, “oh~ I definitely have a few positions open…”

You shift uneasily as you weren’t use to all this attention making your cheeks automatically burn which didn’t go unnoticed by him.

Snickering, he leans over to mumble something to Vox who sent you over a wink before Val turned his attention back to you.

“Come, let’s have a little interview shall we~”

Valentino stands up towering over you as he wraps an arm around your shoulder and another around your waist as he takes you towards his office in the night club.

Shutting the door behind you he gestures you to take a seat infront of him as leans back in his chair lighting back up his cigarette from earlier and taking a nice drag before sitting forward, looking down at this little….bunny.

“Now that I got you here doll I gotta ask you some questions to see if your worthy of my establishment..”

He smiles wickedly as you nod gingerly understanding of his terms.

“Are ya loyal? And i mean realllllllly loyal…”

“Y-yes i’m very loyal…” You spoke again softly knowing at this point you were so desperate for a job you were willing to just please him with the right answers.

“Good to know~”

He pauses for a moment, considering his next question.

“Now….you don’t mind getting a little filthy, do ya?”

“Oh no….i mean i can um be filthy…” You mumble the last part coughing a little as the smoke lingered your way once more as you feel your cheeks burn at the idea of the question.

Valentino lets out a pleased purr at your answer and seeing your shyness just turned him on.

“Mmmm….I think i’m gonna love you, bunny.” His voice husky as he rested his elbows on his desk with his cigarette between his fingers and his cheeks in his hands looking at you with a lustfully taunting gaze that makes you squirm in your seat.

“How do you feel about people touching you?~”

“I surely enjoy it…”

Valentino snickers at this as he glances over at the calendar admist pictures of all his successful movies. “Oh do you now?…” His expression still amused, but his voice had an underlying hint of danger growing to it as he went on to ask you more questions practically pulling any indecent thought out of you and putting it to fruition.

“This interview is definitely going great….now let me see the goods baby~”

You look at him innocently now as if playing dumb as you ask, “t-the goods sir?~”.

“The goods…” He gives you a nod insinuating for you to stand up. In which you quickly did practically shooting up out of the chair.

He chuckles at this and then he glances down and sees the way your outfit accentuated your body so perfectly that he just had to see the back. Not hiding his anticipation as he makes a swift gesture for you to turn around. You nibble your bottom lip hugging your fluffy chest as you turn around showing a little cotton tail poking out from your leggings catching Valentino by surprise as it was wiggling vigorously.

He slowly rises from his desk shrugging of his coat and putting out the cigarette, never once taking his eyes off your behind. He takes a deep breath in appreciation as he then gives a small whistle.

“Damn…you’ve got quite the looks from this angle baby~” He then pauses once more to savor the view before he walks closer to you.

“So far i’m liking everything i’m seeing…” He stands right behind you and places his hands on your shoulders, slowly giving them a playful squeeze before he leans down, so close that his breath grazes the back of your neck.

“l think you’re gonna be the perfect little bunny toy~” His voice low and teasing. Your breath hitching as your behind gently rubs against his hard-on the heat radiating between your thighs started to get to your little rabbit mind.

Valentino smirks, now feeling how hot your body has gotten. Your body temperature steadily rising.

“But… first we’ve got to take a look at one last thing..”

One of his hands goes to your lower back forcefully bending you over infront of him on his desk, your heart jumps as you realize what’s happening but you obediently stay bent forward and arching your ass out of instinct so that it was on full display seeing the outline of your thong through your leggings.

Valentino’s breath is heavy as he stares at you bent over and so vulnerable infront of him. He strokes your rabbit tail with the tips of his fingers, caressing it making you whimper out to how sensitive it was to his touch. Making you embarrassingly wet within seconds.

Almost like he sensed this he swiftly tugged both your thong and your leggings off wasting no time as the cool air hitting your now exposed pussy made you whine.

“Shit your perfect for this industry baby~” He hums as his body weight seems to shift behind you as it sounded like he was grabbing for something..

Valentino held a cam recorder in one hand, as the others clung to your hips rather tightly as he roughly started pounding into you. Cock bullying your pussy with its big size as he barely gave you time to adjust making you cry out pitifully.

“Fuckkkk….you’re so tight.” He groans aiming the camera down at your entrance showing how much he was stretching you out as he used another hand to grab a handful of your plush behind to help guide himself in.

“Look it how well you’re taking it baby bunnni~ like a true fucking slut….mhmph fuck i’m gonna make you a star!~” Val growls behind you as his pace starts to pick up and becomes more aggressive.

Suddenly you feel him yank your head back by your bunny ears, causing a squeak to pass by your lips because of the sensation it admitted making you arch your back more into him, hitting a certain spot you didn’t know he could that made you immediately see stars.

Pointing the camera down toward your face, Val shows your already fucked out expression with your eyes all hazy with tears spilling down your cheeks and a filthy pout playing at your lips. You felt like your fragile body could barley take anymore of this torment and as if to make matters worse a hand went to play with your sensitive tail again making you clamp down on him with your thighs trembling.

“Ngh!! Valentino!”

The camera practically is shoved in your face as if to get the winning glamour shot as you come undone all over his cock. Though he doesn’t stop there as he tries to reach his own release, thrusting deeper and faster into you until he eventually cums too with an exasperated sigh.

The mixture of your juices practically pours out of you as Val pulls out and is more focused on the film that he just made, taking the hard drive out of the camera and shoving it in his coat pocket.

“You’re a natural…expect to be here by tomorrow morning and don’t be late..”

Valentino leaves you to clean your own mess without another word and didn’t even bother to mention what he’d do with that tape now that he had it. You just watched as your now boss put his coat back on and went into the atmosphere of the club once more.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin valentino #hazbin valentino x reader #valentino x reader #imagines #hazbin valentino smut #smut #valentino smut #valentino #hazbin hotel smut #bunny reader #bunny girl #☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings #☆⋆｡𖦹 valentino

[kenntolog]

Imagine cool bf Sukuna loser gf reader where reader is in the art room alone and he joins her and Sukuna initiates make out sheesh with her and she gets so flustered

𝝑𝝔 an: stop this is so cute!! i decided to add a little more details i hope u don’t mind anon!! original post is here, feel free to share your thoughts!!

cool boyfriend sukuna waits for everyone to leave the art class before ever entering the room because he knows his pretty loser girlfriend always comes out the latest.

you never see him coming up behind you as he makes his way from the open entrance and behind the neatly set up marbles to your desk, where you are seated peacefully, singing along softly and gliding your pencil across the paper calmly. your peace is eventually disturbed by his hands suddenly appearing on your shoulders as he pulls you into himself, noticing how you shut your sketchbook quickly and shriek loudly.

you go to push him away until your brain registers his laughter and you tug your headphones down, letting out an exasperated sigh. “‘kunaa! stop doing that, y’know i hate it!”

“heh,” sukuna pinches your cheek affectionately, one arm playfully settled around your neck while the other moves to ruffle your hair. “whatchu drawing there?”

that seems to fluster you as you look up at him and grip your sketchbook tighter, “nothing!”

“liar,” he sneers with a smirk and tries to pull it from your hands, hands that seem a lot more stronger with the way your grip is not easing. “you hidin’ something?”

“no, ‘kuna—”

he doesn’t let you finish, arms loosening around you to turn your chair over so you’re facing him, and puts his hand on your jaw, fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks softly, not enough to hurt but enough to hold tight.

you stiffen, expression turning surprised as sukuna covers your slightly pouted lips with his, initiating a kiss. he’s quick with it, knowing how anything involving him showing any kind of affection make you putty in his hand, so he uses it so his advantage. your cheeks heat up under his fingers as you whimper and try your best to respond to him, melting under his touch.

sukuna smiles into the kiss knowingly, going slow and soft as his free hand strokes the back of your head mindlessly, to make you relax further. he sucks in your bottom lip gently, glides his tongue of it seductively before he dives deep once again, opening you up more.

it works wonders and soon enough you drop the sketchbook, gripping his shoulders instead as you try to tug him into you further, but he is an asshole so he bites your bottom lip and moves away with a victorious grin.

you let out a startled sound, looking up at him with shock.

“gotcha,” he whispers as he opens the sketchbook, quickly finding the last page.

“don’t!”

sukuna quickly recognises his figure on the page, eyes widening in surprise. a couple of sketches of his face and one of his body in his basketball uniform. and then he looks through earlier pages, finding himself sprinkled into your drawings even from last year. and his smirk grows mischievous at the realisation.

“this what you were hidin’?” he gazes at you, drinking in the way you cover your face with your hands. “you’ve liked me for a while now, haven’t you?”

you nod your head silently, still hiding from him.

he puts the sketchbook away and steps closer to you, hands coming up to pry yours away, “what a loser you are.”

you look up at him with glistening eyes, lips pouty and bitten by him.

“cute.” sukuna thinks out loud, as he pats the top of your head, enjoying the way you get embarrassed even more, burying your face in his shoulder.

#— miya writes! #i just love him being a menace #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader

[mysicklove]

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍

DAY 27: OVERSTIMULATION + EDGING

With: Megumi Fushiguro and Yuuji Itadori

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: sub! Megumi x dom! gn! reader x sub! Yuuji, sadistic/crazy?/meanish reader, weird amounts of cum...like a strangely alot of cum involved, frottage - mlm (ik ik i have another day for this only but i just had to include it), handjobs, bondage, megumi in subspace, megumi goes a little insane? reader checks up on him tho, orgasm denial, orgasm control,

A/N: this is alot. like kinda hardcore. if this is ur first fic of mine or ur first dom! reader fic....try a less agressive fic LOL

Neither of them understood how they got into this situation. The two of them were friends. Never in their lives did they think that they would see each other in positions like these. Megumi was never supposed to see Yuuji’s half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks, and Yuuji was never supposed to see Megumi’s high pitched moans, and twitching body. It was lewd. All of it was so lewd, and it seemed to turn the boys on even more.

But of course, this wasnt the first time you've done this. It was a routine by now, but even so, the boys seemed to flush in embarrassment when the two of them knock on your apartment door together. But it may be the slight humiliation that has them crawling back each week.

The two of them sit on either side of you, trapping you in between their muscular bodies. But you weren’t afraid – In fact, even with your cornered position, you were by far in the most control. The way you and the boys like it.

Your hands move up and down in a repetitive stroking motion on both of their cocks. Fushiguro’s is longer but on the thinner side, pretty with a pinkish tip that contrasts the pale skin nicely. Itadoris was girthier, bigger in general, and an impressive sight overall. You even caught Megumi staring wide-eyed the second his best friend pulled down his pants. But even so, Yuuji appeared sheepish, almost embarrassed at his size. It was quite cute, frankly.

But now, they lay content against you. Megumi is on the stiffer side, still embarrassed at the whole situation, but his soft moans show that he is enjoying it. Yuuji, on the other hand, rests his head on your shoulder, occasionally kissing the flesh to show how pleased he is. 

“I’ve got a fun idea,” You hum, not stopping your movements on their cocks. It’s a slow pace, but not slow enough where they feel frustrated. A good motion to keep the boys from whining too much. Although, you do plan to change that.

Megumi hums, his eyes falling shut with a shaky sigh. Yuuji blinks up at you, curious. “Yeah? What is it?”

You turn to him with a smile, and accidentally stop your movements. Megumi, ever the little princess, whines out immediately in complaint. Yuuji chuckles into your shoulder at the noise, and you roll your own eyes. “Yeah. Yeah. I know. I know,” You say, hands moving again before he could bark out a real complaint.

“Well,” You hum and then scan the room. “Need a coin or something small,” You murmur, eyes furrowing to search your place for the object. Yuuji, ever the one to please, doesn’t hesitate to pull away from your touch and go searching through his bag stark naked.

Megumi blinks at him and then leans on you, his messy hair tickling your chin. “He is like a dog.”

“It’s cute.”

“Yeah. Can you?” He mumbles into your neck. You smile, knowing exactly what he wants, and thumb at his cock’s head. His eyes slightly roll back, and he groans into your skin. “J-Just like that.”

Yuuji is back in less than a minute, slotting himself in the space next to you, and slightly grinding himself on your knee for a little extra stimulation. He hands you the coin, and you smile at him, kissing his cheek in reward. He beams at you, and you can’t help but smile back. 

You pull your hand away from Megumi again, and he basically growls into your shoulder. “So dramatic,” You tease as the boy pouts, grumbling and looking away. “Alright. I'm going to put this coin in one of my hands behind my back, and you guys have to guess which one has it.”

“What’s this for?” The dark-haired one demands.

“You will still touch us, right?” The pink-haired one pleads.

You chuckle at them both. “It’s a secret. And yes, don’t worry, sweetheart.”

They were both intrigued by your actions but obviously wanted whatever game this is to go by quickly so that you'll begin to jerk them off again. 

“Whoever guesses correctly gets to cum tonight, and the other does not.”

The boys eyes snap to one another. Neither of them wants the latter. Their kinship was put to a hold. In this moment, all either of them wanted was to have a shattering orgasm.

You place your hands behind your back and move the coin into a hand that they dont see. Then your place two fists in front of them. “Alright who is guessing first?”

You should have known that the two of them werent willing to be polite to one another. “That one!” Both of the boys exclaim, pointing to the fist farthest from each of them. At least they chose different hands, you note, trying to hold back a grin. 

The two of them vibrate with nerves, leaning forward and almost pushing at one another. You hold your hands out and wait for a moment, building up more tension. Megumi barks a complaint about how long you are taking, so you roll your eyes and flip your hand open, exposing the coin to the boys.

Yuuji seems to deflate, eyes widening, and then collapsing his head onto your shoulder with a broken whine. Megumi on the other hand tries not to show his excitement, but the widening grin on his face, and the way his fists clench in victory conveys otherwise. 

You spare him a feline grin, and he immediately knows that something is amiss. Yuuji wasnt the one to get put through much harsh treatment, considering the boy was always the sweetest to you. Pampered, the two of them were, even if Megumi was a little bit more temperamental. It was rare for them to get punished. You had your rules to follow, and they did (even if Megumi complained once or twice) without hesitation. So there was never a need to be mean to them.

But of course, you never did need a reason, did you?

Yuuji stares. As if in a trance, the dark eyes never leave the sight in front of him. He is completely infatuated by it, desires it, really. 

Two quick strokes, focusing primarily on the head, snaps Yuuji out of his trance in an instant. His back straightens, and his eyes widen as he doubles over on himself, nails digging into his thigh. He lets out a shaky, “Heh-Ah!” and his whole body shivers. He was teetering on the edge, just one more stroke and he was bound to come crumbling down. He wanted nothing more than to do so. Your hands pull away, and Yuuji's mouth goes dry, but he doesnt complain. His eyes flicker to it again.

“No. No. No more. No more! I can't do it anymore!” The dark haired man screeches, shaking his head from side to side and biting on his lip. Cum glides down the pink tip, and it begins to coat his balls a murky shade of white. It's sticky, and it makes him feel gross, but his stomach and thighs were no better. It was everywhere, or at least Megumi feels so.

His eyes are tied behind his back. A cruel precaution that Yuuji didn't have. But that is simply because Yuuji was less likely to touch himself than Megumi was to touch you. His wrists are bound together in pretty red soft rope. Your favorite of course. He hates it.

Megumi's legs kick out, and tears stain his face. You frown at him, using your free hand to remove the lip from his teeth. “You're gonna hurt yourself,” You mumble, pouting slightly, and forcing his mouth open. He sniffles, shaking his head, but lets you.

“Y-You're hurting me!” He yelps, leaning his body toward you to convey how upset he feels. 

You bark a laugh, shaking your head. “Well that's dramatic. To cum and cum on repeat sounds so appealing…” Your eyes flicker to the pink haired boy. “To Yuuji at least, yeah?”

Megumi notices for the first time tonight Yuuji's stare. It wasn't on his face though, it was focused solely on his now white coated cock. He is panting, chest raising and falling with each deep breath. A drop of precum falls onto the towel beneath him, but he doesn't spare it a glance. His dark eyes never leave Megumi’s cock. Envy is what he feels. How badly did he wish his own dick was stained that color.

Megumi tries to shut his legs in embarrassment, but your hand was currently resting on the base of it, so he fails to. You use one hand to force them apart so that Yuuji can see, and then you give Megumi three warning strokes. His body arches and a broken cry is let out from the overstimulation. He has already cum three times now in this short span of time.

You hover near his ear, gazing at Yuuji in amusement. “Look ‘gumi. He’s enthralled by it. All he wants to do is cum, and here you are complaining about it!” You purr, kissing his cheek and then pulling away.

Yuuji finally speaks up, probably seeing that you kissed the other from his peripheral vision. He glances up at you, and his shoulders slump. “Please.”

A puddle of precum has formed beneath him, but it was nothing compared to the liquid that coats Megumi's pale skin. Your hands begin to pick up the slow pace again, and the boy begins to hiss out. He squirms in your hold, and gets close enough to you for his teeth to latch onto your shoulder. You chuckle at him, but bare him no mind. “What are you pleading about, Yuuji darling?”

He opens his mouth, glances at Megumi who is trying desperately to tear out of the restraints, and then closes it again. His friend's cries go straight to his cock, that was borderline turning purple at this point. He shakes his head, and puppy dog eyes bore into yours. “Please. It hurts.”

You reach over to him, and Yuuji knows better than to get his hopes up. In fact he knows exactly what is happening, so he squeezes his eyes shut and braces himself. One slow pump, and then two, and Yuuji is just grazing his high. He can almost taste it, but you pull away before he can fully experience it. His fingers tense up, and he forcefully raises them to his head to cover his eyes. He was bound to touch himself if he kept them there. Yuuji clenches his teeth and groans, while his cock twitches a couple times, and another glob drops.

“F-Fuck me,” He cries after a moment, resisting the urge to bury his fingers into his skin to hopefully ease the tortuous feeling. 

Your hand makes a particularly loud squelching noise, and Yuuji's eyes are back onto your hand and Megumi's cock. He stares at it with need wanting nothing more to be covered in his own cum. To cum as many times as he wishes. It was driving him insane.

Megumi seems to be curling into you. His head somehow found his way into your neck, and he sobs into it, searching for some sort of comfort. He is hiccuping by now, and a bountiful of different fluids coat his face, let out without his control. “So mean. Mean. Mean. Mean,” The boy chants, and you hum at him, petting his hair.

“I know. But you are so pretty like this, you know I can't help it,” You murmur, one hand continuing to stroke him off, while the other tries to comfort him.

“Noooooo,” He whines in return, and you kiss his temple, mumbling into his ear about how wrong he is. 

You hear Yuuji call your name and you spare him a glance. Tears were finally cascading down his pretty tan face, and your eyes light up. “What's wrong, Yuuji?”

He comes tumbling forward, his forehead resting on the bed before you. He cries into it, and grips onto the sheets just inches from Megumi's knee. “I-It hurts. I'm going insane. Please. Please, I'll do anything. Please let me cum, I am begging you,” He warbles, close to tearing the sheets apart. 

You sigh and look away from the two. “Well you two are no fun,” You complain, ignoring the way Megumi whines into your neck. Yuuji doesn't move from his bowing position. “Yuuji, you want to cum?”

“I-I'll do anything! I promise!” He proclaims into the sheet.

You smile at the back of his head. “Good! You can rut against Megumi's cock then, since you've been eyeing it all night.”

You pull your hand away from the cum coated cock, and wipe the remains on Megumi's thighs. He remains quiet, trying to catch his breath.

Yuuji raises his head from his bowed position, his cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink. He glances at his friend's trembling body and gulps. “That will…I–F-Fushiguro?”

Green eyes flicker to you first, and it doesn't take much thought to realize that he seemed to slip into the subspace. The eyes are hazy, and little thought seems to be behind them. “You…Want me to?”

You rub at his cheek. “I do. You'll make Yuuji feel good. And I bet you'll have fun too!” You coax, already helping him out of his place in your lap. He struggles to stay up, body nearly collapsing from exertion. Yuuji catches him before he falls back, and you grin at the pink haired boy with a nod.

The hands still remain tied behind his back, and he holds himself up on his knees. Yuuji is in a similar kneeling position, stabilizing the other by holding onto his shoulder. His eyes flicker back to Megumi's cock, completely naturally lubricated, and then he shakes his head to snap out of his thoughts. “I-It wont take me long, okay Fushiguro? J-Just need...Need a little stimulation…Please?”

“Yeah, I know. Just be gentle, please. I’m s-sensitive,” He mumbles in return, strangely not caring about his tear and drool face. Even his stained cock didn't bother him.

Yuuji nods his head, and gulps, turning to you for confirmation. You nod at him, and in return, he brings Megumi's body closer to his. Their stomachs touch, and the pink haired man places his head in the others neck. He brings one hand to Megumi's ass, and pushes it forward, forcing the two of their cocks to touch.

Its so wet, so lubricated, and must be so easy to glide against. Yuujis eyes roll back, and Megumi lets out a broken cry. He starts his rutting, and everything seems to go blank. It's wet, and the two of their cocks make a lewd sort of noise that drives him insane. “Oh fuck, Fushiguro,” Yuuji whimpers, and Megumi in return cries out. 

He forces Megumis body closer to his, and the man yelps. “Gentle Itadori, p-please!” But the other doesnt listen, and continues to grind their cocks together at a rapid pace, loving the feeling of the sticky lubrication. More tears come tumbling out of the dark haired man, and you watch in silence, completely intrigued by the whole thing. 

You watch Yuuji grab some cum from Megumis thighs, and place it onto their cocks. He moans out, and your eyes widen in delight. “Yuuji,” You purr, and the man glances over at you, shivering under your gaze. “If you get him to cum again, could you imagine how much extra lubricant you will have?”

Yuujis eyes widen at the prospect, and he begins to respond, but is cut off. Megumi begins to laugh, and the noise startles the both of you. The laugh is more like a yelp, a sort of mix of a cry and a giggle. You glance over to him, and his face is broken out into a grin. The tears dont stop flowing from his eyes, and his whole body is twitching rapidly under Yuuji's hold. A strange sight. 

“Megumi,” You question, forcing Yuujis hips away from the other to give him space just in case something was wrong. “You alright, love?”

He shakes his head back and forth rapidly and you raise your eyebrows.  “N-Nothings gonna come out!” He giggles with a hiccup, and Yuuji's eyes widen in surprise. “Gonna shoot blanks!”

You gulp, and a shiver runs down your spine. You feel Yuujis gaze on you, but you don't look away from Megumi. “I-I wanna see it,” You whisper, pupils dilating at the prospect. You let go of Yuujis hips, and nod at him to continue.

“I-I dont think I can last that long,” The pink haired one mumbles out, and you brush him off.

“You will, do you understand?”

He whimpers, but nods, and then brings Megumi back closer to him. But to both of their surprises, you wrap your hand around their cocks. Yuuji whines, and Megumi borderlines yelps. You don't say anything as your hand rises and falls. “N-No, no, no. I can't last. Please. Please.”

Megumi's fit of giggles ends quickly, and he's back to crying. Yuuji’s teeth dig into his neck, and the dark haired man's back arches and he hisses out. “Yes you can,” You encourage, “You just gotta wait for Megumi to cum.”

Yuujis arms come wrapped around the other, and he begins to grind himself onto the other. “F-Fushiguro, you have to cum. Please cum. Please please cum!” He pleads, hoping that his movement will help spur the other on.

Megumi shakes his head back and forth, and he continues to sob. “I-I'm close. Its too much, oh fuck!” Your hand focuses on the tip, and you watch Megumi's hands try to break out of the restraints again.

Yuujis nails drag down the others' backs and by now, he's crying. “It hurts. I need it. Please. I can't hold it. Please Fushiguro let me cum!”

A broken cry is let out, and Megumi hits his climax. The second Yuuji sees Megumi's eyes roll back, he comes tumbling after him. Unlike the stoic boy proclaimed earlier, two globs of cum leak out of his pink cock. But, to be honest, you're not too disappointed, because the sight of them cumming together was truly a pretty sight. Yuuji shoots his load all over Megumi's stomach.

Yuuji clings onto the other like Megumi was some sort of lifeline, and if Megumi didn't have his hands binded, you are sure he would do the same. Tears stain the tan boy's shoulder, and he continues to hiccup through it all. Yuuji, on the other hand, is loud. He moans out, high in pitch and cracked.

And when the two come down from their high they peel away from each other, completely spent. Yuuji finds himself resting his head on your shoulder, with a content smile, and Megumi is sprawled across your lap, currently getting untied and cleaned up. And eventually, once the two of them are cleaned up, and receive proper after care (involving tons and tons of praise for megumi, and physical affection for Yuuji), the two of them pass out, curled up next to one another.

But everything after that night was strange. Whenever you ask them to guess what the hand of the coin is, the boys seem to scamper away from you, completely terrified of the outcome. It was a pity, truly, especially since you plan to have them switch positions next time. Luckily you didn't need a coin game to decide their fates.

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