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#but i also understand she had to work so much for them to survive

cevansbrat0007 · 23 hours

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Hey Britt☺️!! Hope you’re having a good weekend and are relaxing/getting plenty rest🌸! So from the list of questions I have two:

First for Duchess and Beast, describe their first date (I’m not sure if this has already been discussed👀). Or if it’s a potential spoiler, then I completely understand if you don’t want to answer and then pose the follow up question, what do they dislike about each other most?

Of course I can’t leave out my other fave couple, Babygirl and Andy so my question for them would be what do they love about each other the most?

Describe their first date:

Well, if you listen to Bird, then she and Ari's first date took place at Sloane's Tavern, which is a little bar down the street from her house. I can't go into a lot of specifics because that particular fic is coming up very soon (provided I continue weaving in new prequel chapters into the current storyline), but I can tell you that Ari vehemently disagrees.

He DOES NOT want that to be their first date. Which is why he's been working very hard to plan something special for his lady before he goes away on a job. Unfortunately, he suffered from a particularly bad night terror the evening before the big date, so now he feels like he has twice as much to prove.

That story will also be coming down the pipeline relatively soon. You can expect it to fall after the fic, Worthy of You.

What do Bird and Ari dislike about each other the most?

At first, the fact that Bird could be a little uptight initially bothered Ari. That is...until he discovered just how much he enjoyed showing his girl how to unwind. If he had to pick something, it would probably be the fact Bird tends to run late. Constantly. Drives him up the wall.

Meanwhile, Bird has to resist the urge to strangle her man every time he misplaces his phone, wallet, keys, etc. Not because she's never done it, but because it happens all the time. She's even tried things like putting several hooks by the front door. And when that didn't work, she upgraded to a decorative bowl on his kitchen counter, as well as his nightstand.

It still doesn't stop him from bugging her about their whereabouts while they're trying to get reading in the morning. If she's being honest, she has no idea how he's survived on his own for this long.

What do Andy and Baby Girl love about each other the most?

Even though he sometimes acts like he doesn't, Andy adores his sweet wife's sense of humor. While it's true that she can be a bit of a brat at times, his life is never boring with her. Not only does she make him laugh, but she is also able to get him to laugh at himself. Which is something he's struggled to do in the past.

He also loves her cooking. That's a big one as well.

As for Baby Girl, she loves that Andy makes her feel safe. She can be her most authentic self with him and never feel judged for it - which is part of the reason she feels free to be such a goofball.

She also loves how he manages to smell ridiculously good like all of the time.

___

Thanks for playing the Ship Ask Game!

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hand-picked-star · 2 days

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It's not a khushi bashing post.Just because I am highlighting a mistake of her,it doesn't mean that I don't love that character. Flaws would have made her more beautiful, I wished her flaws were highlighted and she would get time to work on them instead of being perfect.

I just want to highlight a certain angle of the impact of khushi's decision of not telling the raizadas about Shyam had on Anjali and Arnav.When khushi knew the truth, Anjali was not pregnant.It is really sick if you think about it, the psycho shyam was sleeping with Anjali while being obsessed with khushi and telling her that he didn't consider Anjali as his wife.The psycho might had slept with Anjali within 15-20 days before she discovered she was expecting.sick,very sick.

If khushi told them earlier then that situation could have been avoided for Anjali. Another thing the show failed to show but leave if for interpretation that how much humiliation and insult a child had to endure for their parents infidelity in society. They must had suffered that by being the offsprings of cheating father.Arnav felt the society only had accepted him when he became rich.That's why he adored the guptas so much because they accepted him despite facing his rage many times,they accepted him despite his flaws. Same goes for khushi. She accepted and loved Arnav as he was, whole-heartly.It's also the reason why Anjali worshipped Shyam.

Anyway, So, it was completely a valid reason for Anjali to think of same consequences for her child. No matter how much they loved that child but the vultures of the society would devour that child for having cheating gene in it's bloodline.The society would not spare the child whose father had no respect neither in the household not in the society just like their father.

Also growing up as a orphan or fatherless is also a pain of different genre.Our life, society and day-to-day life are constructed in a manner that we needed our father in every aspect of our life.I said it not to diminish the struggle of single mothers.Those who have grown up with your father in the picture, just imagine can you picturize a life without him?Then think the pain of an orphan, and then think of the pain of a child who is orphan inspite of it's father being alive and leveled as a person whose father was a despicable person. No mother would have wanted that for her child.That time on that hospital room two siblings relived their worst nightmare once again.Anjali was that child once upon a time who thought that life was worst than death.Arnav was that child who had already lived the life that the child would had lived. A pain that no one would understand except them.

And all of this happened, because khushi didn't tell them the truth in time, believed that a psycho, manipulator like shyam would change.The way he got engaged to khushi should have been a warning enough.Then after the reveal khushi was told firmly that she should not interact with Anjali for valid reasons. But still she didn't listen. I know her intent was good, in her heart she only wanted best for Anjali, but didn't she ignored the fact that the best for Anjali for that moment was not to interact with khushi? Khushi talked with Anjali to try to reduce her guilt, whatever you say, their interaction was not absolutely selfless from khushi's side.And this mistake of hers had almost cost Arnav his last surviving kin.Furthermore, Their relationship might not even had survived if Anjali was successful in hurting herself.

So upon first watch, watching khushi-anjali conversation and what happened afterwards, Anjali's reaction seemed exaggerated. But now in rewatch, her reaction doesn't seem excessive, does it?

My scattered thoughts (12/?)

#ipkknd #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #arnav singh raizada #khushi kumari gupta #arshi #my scattered thoughts

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crypt1dcorv1dae · 2 days

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I think the way kuwabara and Hiei can't ever seem to get along (tho they are friends, they just won't admit it) is bc they're as opposite as they could be, basically...

Like, Hiei can't understand human things, even for a DEMON the way he was "raised" was pretty fucked up, soft normal human life makes absolutely no sense to him at all...

But kuwabara is also the only one who can't understand Demon things, his life hasn't been perfect (mom doesn't seem to be around, and his dad isn't around much either, mostly just being raised by his teenage sister) it's still leagues softer than almost any demon's life, and the brutality that is normal for demons is foreign to him (he's the only one who seems to actively avoid killing opponents, at least the named ones)

So yeah, to Hiei kuwabara seems like a soft, wimpy human bc he's like... Well, he is kinda soft, he's kind to people and loves animals and has his heart on his sleeve, and he definitely doesn't like... Murder people

And to kuwabara Hiei is a little asshole who goes out of his way to be mean and cruel and violent even when it isn't necessary (it always was for him though in his past, it's all he ever knew) and doesn't have any respect for other's lives and doesn't care about anything or anyone but himself (he has no idea how much he cares about his sister!!! He doesn't even know she IS his sister!!)

But really it's just... Hiei has had to fight to survive, he was taught from a very young age that it's kill or be killed, take or be taken from, eat or be eaten, that's the only life he's ever known until very recently, now having people he can actually trust, people he's willing to protect OTHER than yukina, who he knows will protect him too... It's very new to him!!! He's not used to it!!! And knowing him, he doesn't WANT to get used to it for fear of becoming "weak"

... Idk what else I wanted to say, I forgot, I just realized that within the 4, they're the only ones who really really can't understand each other's perspectives at all, where yusuke and kurama (both being halfway in both worlds by the end) can understand both of them well enough to sorta... Translate.

Which is why I think the whole group can only really work as just that, A GROUP.

Team polymeshi ftw they're all gay godbless

#yyh #yu yu Hakusho #Hiei #kazuma kuwabara

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irndad · 2 months

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Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-

Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹

Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.

my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k

“Is Maeve okay?”

It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation.

She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him.

Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists.

She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?

It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before.

He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?

“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”

She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples.

“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”

She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her.

“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”

It’s only then she frowns.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”

“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance.

“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”

“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her.

“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”

“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“

“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”

“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”

A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration.

She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished.

Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her.

Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her.

And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper.

“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”

Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed.

Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him.

“You’re important to me.”

She has no idea how much.

Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive.

“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.

Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted.

The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care.

He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long.

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

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moonlinos · 3 months

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Invisible string (pt. III)

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Synopsis: After so many years of being closed off from the idea of love, you finally allow yourself to feel it freely with Minho.

♡ Genre: A ‘lite version’ of a soulmate AU, fluff, smut

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), oral sex (female receiving), protected sex, swearing

♡ Word count: 16.4k

♡ A/N: A part of this chapter was almost shamelessly inspired by the song that inspired the plot in the first place, Invisible String by Taylor Swift. Also really inspired by my favorite Minho vlog, Lee Know Log 4 🩷

To those who have asked to be tagged in this story: would any of you be interested in being tagged in any new work I post later? Let me know! And thank you for reading and giving me such a great experience posting my writing here for the first time 🩷

← part II ♡ ⟳ part I

You spend the entire flight home processing everything that had happened during the trip; from Minho’s words, to your kisses and touches, to you ultimately acknowledging your own romantic feelings for him. Although it all felt sudden, it had been a long time coming.

As his car stops at the front of your house, Minho steps out and walks with you, your backpack in hand.

“I know you’re scared. I understand that even more now that I know about your past relationships,” he speaks softly as the two of you stop at the front door, “And I want you to know that I’m gonna be patient.”

You nod slowly, although the desire to answer him is still so prevalent in your mind, the words lodged in your throat and yearning to spill out. But you’ve made the mistake of jumping into relationships far too often, always driven by your emotions, and every time, the outcome has been disastrous. You don’t want that to happen with Minho.

So, you settle on a question that has been eating away at you.

“Why do you like me, Minho?”

His face twists into a deep frown before ultimately softening. Carefully placing your backpack on the step leading to the front door, he sighs.

“You shouldn’t have to ask me that,” he assures you, his rough hands touching your shoulders before moving down your arms to entwine with your own. “You don’t even realize how fucking amazing you are, do you? I’d move mountains, fight anyone and do anything if it meant I’d have the privilege to see you smile.”

And, just like that, you feel your lips stretch out into a small smile at his words. He grins at you.

“Just like that. I’d do anything to see that,” he says. “And you take care of your friends simply because you love them, never asking for anything in return. You collect plushies like me, you appreciate the criminally underrated flavor of lemon cake, and you worked at the same convenience store as me, and spilled coffee all over my notebook on the day we met. That’s why I like you; because you’re you.”

Tears threaten to well up in your eyes, so you quickly avert your gaze, focusing on your shoes. With a nod, you wrap your arms around Minho, taking in his scent and reveling in the comforting warmth of his body. Little did he know, you were just as willing to do whatever it took to keep him near you. He plants a chaste kiss on your forehead as you break away from his embrace.

“I’ll call you later, okay? Thank you for the trip.”

As soon as you step inside your house, Eunha is quick to come running towards you, her hands dirty with flour as she abandons her unbaked cookies on the counter and pulls you into a hug.

“I missed you so much,” she whines, “How will I survive living without you next year?”

You chuckle, watching as her lips turn into a pout.

“I’m sure we’ll suffer equally, if that makes you feel better.”

She fakes a sob, turning on her heels and heading toward the kitchen.

“Oh, Hyunjin is in a crisis, apparently,” she tells you, wiping her hands on her apron. “He called me three times just today to ask if you were back already.”

You let out a sigh. Hyunjin was more often than not either glum or vexed due to his trials and mishaps in finding love. He once joked that you two would end up having to marry each other with how things were going. You dreaded his reaction to the news of Minho soon entering your life in a new way.

“The hotel’s Wi-Fi was a joke, but I honestly didn’t even think to check my phone,” you tell Eunha, who giggles as she cuts her cookies into heart shapes. “What? Why are you giggling like that?” You ask her with a grin, approaching the counter.

She shrugs. “Nothing. I didn’t even think to check my phone,” she playfully mimics your voice, looking up at you, “I’m guessing you had fun, then?”

“I did,” you beam, “It was everything I thought it would be and even more.”

She raises an eyebrow at you. “Even more?”

“Even more,” you reiterate. “I had so much fun with Minho. I forgot how good it feels to just let go and allow myself to feel what I want to feel.”

Eunha’s lips curl into a small smile. She hums, lowering her head in a feeble attempt at pretending to focus on the cookies in front of her. “And what did you want to feel this weekend?”

“Like maybe I can finally fall in love again.”

Your friend lifts her head, her eyes wide. “Love?” she exclaims, “You, the girl who has spent every day since I met you talking about how love isn’t important, is wanting to fall in love?”

You chuckle at her reaction, shrugging dismissively. “In my defense, I had my reasons. Plus, some things made me change my mind.”

“More like someone,” Eunha teases, and you roll your eyes at her, but a smile spreads on your lips unwittingly. “I’m happy for you,” she beams, “and I think you should definitely fall in love again — not maybe.”

You sprint across the small kitchen space, circling around the counter to wrap your arms around Eunha and squeezing her as she lightly pushes you away, warning you about flour getting all over your clothes, but you don’t mind.

Because you love her, as you’ve learned this past weekend, and you don’t mind the mess when it comes to someone you love.

It’s only as you enter your room that you check your phone, which is filled with notifications from Hyunjin, much like Eunha had said. After ten missed calls, it seems he resorted to simply texting you.

Hyune: hey I know you’re in japan but can you answer the phone? Hyune: I promise I’ll be quick. just wanna talk to you Hyune: hear your voice idk I feel really alone rn and really bad idk lol Hyune: mingyu has his girlfriend over. can you believe they’re still together? Hyune: can you believe he has a girlfriend and I can’t even find someone to give me the time of day lol Hyune: can you believe every date I go to ends with me crying lol Hyune: sorry I’m being annoying and the messages aren’t even being delivered, you’re clearly having fun sorry Hyune: sorry Hyune: guess that’s why nobody can endure me for more than two dates Hyune: have fun 🤍 I love you

You feel your heart ache as you read his messages, answering with an apology. But before you can hit send on your second message, Hyunjin has already replied.

Hyune: it’s okay. I’m sorry I even sent those in the first place

Me: Stop apologizing Me: You know I love you and I’ll always be here for you Me: Where are you?

Hyune: at my dorm Hyune: staring at the ceiling

Me: I’m coming over

True to his words, Hyunjin is lying on the floor of his dorm’s cramped living room once you open the door. There’s a small canvas propped up against the wall, a myriad of shades of blue forming the shape of a face. Your best friend’s talent never ceases to amaze you, and you have to fight the urge to stand still by the front door for a few seconds simply admiring his new painting.

“Look at this sulking Pisces,” you click your tongue as you approach Hyunjin, who only opens one eye to shoot you a glance.

“I’m in a fragile state and this is how you greet me,” he all but pouts before sitting up as you sit cross-legged beside him on the floor. “How was the trip?”

You shrug. “It was fun. We only had one day to explore the city, so we didn’t do much,” you say simply, tapping your fingers on your thigh.

You don’t want to sit and talk about how much fun you had during a trip when Hyunjin’s puffy, bloodshot eyes are staring directly at you. He was sad, and his sadness was palpable throughout the entire living room — his bitten lips, his painting, his hands covered in dried-up blue paint; everything was dripping in sadness. This was a constant with Hyunjin, but lately it had become even worse. He has an overwhelming desire to love and be loved, but his every attempt at fulfilling this desire is futile for reasons you cannot wrap your head around.

“I like the new painting,” you smile, focusing on the saddened blue face. Hyunjin scoffs beside you.

“It’s fucking terrible,” His hand shoves the canvas face down on the floor. You bite your lip. “Can’t even paint shit I like anymore. Every time I try, it always turns out muddy and sad.”

“What happened?”

He lets out a bitter chuckle. “Well I’m pathetic, so it’s still the same old reason. I had a date with this girl on Saturday, but she canceled at the last minute. Texted me something about me being too clingy after she agreed to go out with me, about how she knows she would feel suffocated if we dated.”

You furrow your brows together, anger bubbling up inside your chest. “What the fuck?”

“Oh, but don’t worry!” Hyunjin gave you a forced smile. “She made sure to remind me that it was her, not me, and that lots of women out there like guys like me. Whatever the fuck that means.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, turning his attention toward his hands before scratching some of the dried paint off. You sigh.

“Hyunjin, she isn’t wrong about that. You know that, right? You’re not the one at fault.”

He scoffs. “Sure seems like it when every date I’ve gone to since starting university has ended up with me being rejected for the same fucking reasons. It’s always me. Too clingy, too sentimental, too emotional,” his voice is almost a whisper as he speaks. He turns to face you again. “Remember how I would stop sleeping with you whenever I liked someone? Wanna know why I stopped doing that? ‘Cause I know it’s not gonna go anywhere anyway, so what’s the point? It never goes anywhere, and then I’m left alone again. Maybe I should just accept it, y’know? Some people are just meant to be alone, and clearly I’m one of them.”

Your anger has now morphed into sadness. You hate the way Hyunjin talks about himself, hate it even more how it seems nobody can appreciate the amazing person he is. Being caring and sentimental is not a flaw, and you pray that he never allows other people’s opinions to sway him into thinking that way. You pray he finds someone who can appreciate these qualities in him the same way you do.

“You’re not alone, Hyune,” you assure him, taking one of his hands in yours. “You’re surrounded by friends who love you so much, and while I know that’s not the type of love you yearn for, it’s still love.”

Hyunjin smiles softly at you before pulling you closer and pressing his lips to yours. It’s sudden but not entirely unexpected; the way you and Hyunjin dealt with shitty things in life and unpleasant feelings together had always been through sex, and you knew it always made him feel at least a little better afterward. And so you let him, returning the kiss even as part of you felt wrong doing it when your entire being was consumed with thoughts of only Minho.

As soon as he kisses you, he swiftly pushes you down onto the hardwood floor and hovers over you. Hyunjin’s fingers undo the buttons of your cardigan before slipping under your shirt, caressing your skin as his lips trail kisses down your neck. Soon enough, his body is pressed up against your spread thighs, and you know where this is going — but as much as you want to make your best friend feel better, you cannot bring yourself to do it.

“Hyune,” you softly call out, and he hums against your throat. “We can’t do this.”

He chuckles, squeezing your waist. “Mingyu always comes home late when he goes out with his girlfriend. Don’t worry.”

“It’s not that, Hyunjin. I just—”

“Do you not wanna fuck on the floor?” He asks, coming up to look at you. He cocks his head to the side. “We can just do it on the couch then, I really don’t wanna have sex with all those pictures of Mingyu and his friends staring at us in our room.”

“Hyunjin, no—”

“It’s not like we never did it on a couch before, stop being dramatic—”

“I’m in love with Minho.”

It comes out before you can fully comprehend what you’re saying, the word love slipping past your lips effortlessly. Hyunjin stills on top of you, his body rigid and tense.

“Oh,” is all he offers you. You nod slowly, fingers picking at a drop of paint that stained the collar of his shirt.

You whisper, “I really am just as surprised as you are, believe me.”

Hyunjin shrugs. “I’m not surprised. I just— now you’re leaving me, too.”

You shake your head. It’s ludicrous to you that Hyunjin could imagine that you would ever even entertain the thought of leaving him. Running a hand through his messy hair, you pull him in and press a kiss to his nose. Hyunjin hides his face in the crook of your neck with a groan.

“Sorry, that was pathetic. I shouldn’t have said that,” he apologizes. “You know I don’t mean it like that. I just love you so much. I thought we would…”

You furrow your brows as he trails off his words. You thread your fingers through his long hair. “We would…?”

“End up together somehow,” he speaks slowly, his voice muffled, and your heart drops.

Hyunjin harboring these feelings about you was something you would never have imagined. You were certain he was content being your friend and having sex with you only until he found the right person. He went on several dates, after all. Your heart feels like it’s been shattered into a million tiny pieces upon learning about his hidden desire for the future he used to so often joke about: you two ending up together simply because you were each other’s only choices.

“Hyunjin,” you start carefully, “I love you, too. So much. You’re my best friend, and that’s never going to change. We don’t have to be together romantically for us to be in love, y’know? I realized that just recently.”

You feel him nod his head, his hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers.

“I’m just sad I won’t have you anymore. I’m gonna miss us so much,” he places a small kiss on your collarbone. “Whenever I felt like I was in a dark pit with no way out, every single time you were there to bring me out of it and make me feel okay again. I love you so much for that.”

And you can only softly smile at his words before your heart shatters all over again as you hear him quietly begin to sob in your skin.

“Hyunjin,” you call out, although you know he won’t reply. “You’re the most beautiful soul I’ve ever met. My love for you goes beyond us having sex — that wasn’t even important to me in our relationship. It was just something good on top of something already amazing.” With a slow nod, he lifts his head and gazes at you with red, teary eyes, causing your heart to ache even more. “I’ll never leave you. Ever. I’ll still answer your four hundred three a.m. texts, still let you hide away in my house, still happily listen to you complain about your days, and still hold you when you cry.”

Hyunjin pouts like a child, and your heart swells with fondness.

“Really?” He asks, and you chuckle with a nod.

“Really,” you assure him. “Me being with someone will never change our friendship, or my love for you. I mean, we won’t have sex anymore, of course, but I’ll still talk shit about your roommate with you so I’m sure you’ll forgive me.”

Hyunjin’s tearful expression vanishes, replaced by a small teasing grin. “I am gonna have to jerk off significantly more, so I don’t know about forgiveness,” he jokes.

You push him off you with a chuckle, sitting up as he tries to regain his balance.

“When did this whole thing with Minho even happen?” Hyunjin asks, setting his painting back against the wall. You shrug, buttoning up your cardigan. He hums. “So, are you already together?”

“Not yet,” you say, “but I’m gonna answer him after our class this week. If he fucking lets me, that is. He says he wants to be patient, but I don’t want to be patient. The only thing I wanna be is with him.”

Hyunjin’s whole body contorts as he groans. “Ew, what the fuck? When did you become such a sap?”

As you shove him back once more, you both burst into laughter while Hyunjin stumbles back and spills a mug filled with dirty paint water all over his floor.

The rest of the day goes by with you and Hyunjin painting together, a much broader array of colors and a much happier end result on the canvas: beautiful flowers painted by him standing alongside clumsily drawn hearts, stars, and other doodles painted by you. After signing your name above his elegant signature, you inform him the painting is leaving with you — it’s hanging up on your wall as soon as you arrive home.

Hyunjin is your best friend; it’s been this way for the last two years, and it’s indisputable to you that this fact will remain no matter what happens. As you watch him hunched over your painting, insisting that his flowers could be more detailed — even after you assured him a thousand times that they were perfect — you curse yourself for not realizing how beautiful this love between you two is. You hope he cherishes this love as well, in spite of his desire for the two of you to be together in the future. You know deep down this idea stemmed from his fear of solitude.

You’re not worried about him at all, though. He’s a precious soul, and anyone who fails to recognize that doesn’t deserve him. He’s simply getting rid of the wrong people in order to find the right person, someone who sees him as you do.

The love you feel for Hyunjin is unchanging, and if you had any say in it, it would be everlasting.

Your next Japanese class with Minho comes too soon, and you find yourself unprepared. Every trace of resolve you had after returning from your trip dissipated bit by bit every time you saw or talked to him. As soon as you saw his figure step into the coffee shop on Monday to pick up his usual order, you realized that every single scenario your mind had conjured up fell flat. Minho was beautiful, amazing, breathtaking — he deserved something grand and earth-shattering, not a simple answer from a girl who wasn’t even half as good as he was.

It certainly did not help that he, always true to his words, respected your time. Not once during his coffee trips or your never-ending talks through the phone did he mention the topic. And it was slowly but surely driving you insane.

You bite your lips so much on your way to university you’re sure your lipstick is gone by the time you enter the building, and you’re surprised your poor bag isn’t riddled with holes in the cloth from your insistent picking. You shouldn’t feel this nervous — Minho is the one waiting for an answer, after all. For all he knows, you could be simply building up the courage to let him down gently. But you are nervous. You’re terrified he will listen to your clumsy words and decide he deserves someone better. Or, worse yet, will only realize how undeserving of his love you are once you’re in a relationship.

And you don’t think you can face another heartbreak where you’re left to mend your gashes all alone.

You enter the building with shaky hands, fiddling with the strap of your bag and walking toward your classroom on autopilot as your mind is too busy running over all the ways in which this could go wrong.

All faded, however, once you saw Minho waiting for you in front of your classroom. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as he looked down at his phone, his body wrapped in a cozy-looking black sweater and sweatpants, a keychain of a cat plushie hanging from his backpack matching his phone case. You stop a few feet away from him. He deserves the world, and that terrifies you. Still, his presence alone melts away every ugly word of doubt and every piece of worry inside your body until the only thing you can feel is the swirling of that familiar pinwheel spinning inside your chest.

You greet him with a long hug, hoping he can’t feel your heart beating through your own sweater.

After class, he walks you to work, enthusiastically telling you about the progress he, Chan and Seungmin have made on their game. You nod and hum along to his words, but you can’t, for the life of you, focus on a word he’s saying. All you want to do is tell him you like him — god, you like him so much — but every time you’re close to doing it, the ugly words return and scream that he deserves more than an underwhelming confession on a gloomy, empty street.

You stop walking as you two reach the bench located just far away enough from the hustle and bustle of students on campus, the one where no one bothered you when you sat here by yourself for three years, the one that had oddly become your favorite bench among all the other identical ones scattered throughout your university.

Because it was here that you and Minho had your first real conversation, it was here where you two laughed and gasped at all the little coincidences between your lives, and it was here where you began to build a friendship with this wonderful guy who would unknowingly change you for the better.

It was the perfect place, and you berated yourself for not realizing that sooner.

Minho’s voice calling out your name pulls you away from your thoughts, his hand wrapping around yours and pulling you gently toward his body. You hum before colliding against his chest as he chuckles.

“You just stopped walking,” he says, a lilt of confusion in his voice. “I know you hate work, but I didn’t think it was this serious.”

And when you properly turn to look at him, Minho is smiling so beautifully under the somber sky of winter, as if he is the embodiment of sunshine — always glistening and radiating such a comforting warmth no matter how glum the world around him is. And, at the sight of him, you just can’t stop your words. Never mind how gloomy this campus seems or how lackluster your words are — Minho’s presence alone makes everything become golden.

“I like you because you’re you,” you mirror his words at you, “Because you laughed in my face for spilling coffee all over your notebook when I didn’t even know you, because you love coffee just as much as I hate it, and because you believe in silly myths about riding paddle boats together,” You blurt out, words completely unbidden by your brain. Minho’s eyes widened for a beat before slowly turning into crescent moons as a smile spread across his lips. You take a deep breath before continuing, the words flowing out of you so quickly you’re worried he won’t be able to understand you, “And you opened my eyes to the love I feel for my friends, which I was so fucking stupid and blinded to. But, most importantly, you taught me that love isn’t bad. It can never be bad because you’re love, Minho. You’re full of love, and there’s not an ounce of anything bad in you. And you make me feel deserving of this love, even though I still don’t understand how I can be deserving of something so beautiful.”

Minho’s arms are pulling you into an embrace before you can process everything you said, and by the time you seem to come to your senses, you realize tears have welled up in your eyes. He holds you close to him silently for a while, his left hand delicately massaging your scalp as you clutch onto the fabric of his sweater as if he might be taken away from you if you let go.

“I like you, too,” he whispers against your hair, and you feel your lips contort into a pout.

“You already told me that,” you grumble. “I just word-vomited my feelings to you and this is all you have to say?”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your head. “What else is there to say? I like you so much I don’t think I can put it into words. I might just say something stupid if I talk about it too much.”

You furrow your brows, pulling away from his embrace to face him. “Something stupid like what?”

“Like saying I love you.”

Your lips part, but no words come out. Yet again, Minho has rendered you speechless. He shakes his head dismissively, a smile still etched onto his lips.

“No need to say anything. I told you it was stupid,” his eyes drift over to the bench beside you two, and his smile grows. “Guess this has to become my favorite bench too.”

You let out a laugh, but it’s cut short by your tears spilling out again. Minho quickly turns to look at you again, his expression shifting into a mixture of happiness and worry for you as he wipes your tears away with his thumbs.

And as the sun begins to set, the street lights flicker on, casting a warm, yellow glow over everything around you. You cup Minho’s face and press a chaste kiss to his lips, then to his nose, before wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into an embrace once again.

“I don’t think I’m ready to love you yet. I’m sorry,” you apologize, both to him and yourself.

Minho simply hums, kissing your cheek. “I told you I’m patient, because love is patient. I would wait an eternity for the privilege of hearing you say you love me.”

You and Minho have officially been together for almost two months by the time winter break arrives. You’ve done everything couples do, except for two things: say I love you and go all the way. You’ve done every other possible thing — well, Minho has done every other possible thing to you, with you discovering that Minho particularly loves eating you out, often laying on your lap on your couch after work and rubbing his head against your thighs like a cat, humming and sighing until he has your attention before all but begging you to let him go down on you. Whenever you offer to do the same to him, in any way, he immediately turns the offer down, saying he’s satisfied just pleasuring you. It always leaves you with a million questions, as you notice him have to adjust himself in his pants or coincidently go to the bathroom, but you don’t question it.

The two of you also found ways to get around the whole L-word situation. I missed you becoming your go-to phrase for when you want to scream out that you love him, but are still unable to, while he usually just makes you swallow both your words and his own that are lingering inside your mouth with a kiss.

You had fallen into a routine quickly, with you visiting Minho most evenings after your shift to just lay on Chan’s stiff leather couch and watch him work. You two always hang out with his co-workers slash friends for a while before leaving for the night — Seungmin becoming like the pestering but loveable little brother you never had — and you head to your house in Minho’s car before you sneak him into your home so Mrs. Choi remains none the wiser.

Her ‘no boyfriends spending over two days at the house’ rule can’t possibly apply if she doesn’t even know Minho is there in the first place.

And so, he’s been basically living alongside you and your housemates. This outcome was almost inevitable since Minho hates his roommates while you love each other’s company.

You’re now packing your things with Hyunjin, who’s been sitting on your bed for the last half-hour rather than helping you as he’d promised. In the past month, he’s been able to come to terms with the fact that his ideal future with you was nothing but a coping mechanism after a month of sulking every time Minho was around. He deleted every shitty dating app on his phone and now focuses on finding love naturally, recently going out with a girl he met in one of his classes. The first time they met was the epitome of a meet-cute, with her accidentally bumping into him and spilling black paint all over his shirt. It brought back memories of when you first met Minho, and you had high hopes that this time things would work out differently for him. But, judging by the scowl on Hyunjin’s face and his nonstop complaining, you were wrong.

“But, be for real, why did it take her six dates to realize she doesn’t think we’ll work out?” He grumbles, spinning one of your necklaces around his finger like it’s a toy. “I paid for every meal, made sure she got at least two orgasms every time we went out, and she just suddenly decides we won’t work out? Fuck off.’’

You chuckle, closing your suitcase after triple-checking that you packed Minho’s Christmas present and walking over to where Hyunjin is sitting, snatching your necklace from his hand.

“Maybe she liked the free food and orgasms too much to let them go.”

Hyunjin scowls. “You’re saying that’s the only reason she went out with me?” He feigns offense, shaking his head. “I hope Minho’s parents hate your guts.”

“Hyunjin!” You exclaim, watching as he bursts out laughing. “Don’t even joke about that. You know how nervous I am.”

“There’s no way they won’t like you,” He assures you, “You’re fucking amazing, not to mention their son loves you. That’s more than enough reason to love you too.”

You clutch the necklace in your hand, humming before turning on your heels to check your drawers for anything you might have missed. Hyunjin using the word love makes you a bit anxious, an unwelcome reminder that you still haven’t been able to overcome this stupid emotional blockage preventing you from telling Minho you love him. The first and only time you’d ever said you loved Minho was that evening at Hyunjin’s dorm, and it hadn’t even been directed at him. Without saying a word, you both understand the love that exists between you — it’s unspoken, but deeply felt — and you’re aware of that, but the fear that one day he’ll grow tired of waiting is painfully tangible inside your mind.

When Minho invited you to spend Christmas with his family, you hesitated at first. Meeting your ex-boyfriends’ families had never been so significant. You were a teenager at the time, the implications were different and the stakes didn’t seem as high. This time, it feels as if getting Minho’s parents to like you is indispensable. How will he go on dating a woman his parents deem unfit for him? Especially with how highly he speaks of his mother, you’re sure her opinion of you will weigh on his mind.

You can only hope they love you half as much as you love their son.

The car ride to Minho’s parents’ house was around half an hour.

Half an hour you spent picking at a loose thread on your skirt and overthinking so much your head ached by the time he parked the car. You hated how nervous you were, but Minho’s parents liking you was a non-negotiable.

After insisting on carrying your own suitcase — just in case his parents might think you’re an overbearing girlfriend if they see Minho carrying your bag for you — the two of you walk up the stairs and into his home. The first thing you notice is how cozy-looking everything is; from the family pictures neatly placed on coffee tables and on the walls, cat furniture and toys mixed in with their actual furniture, down to the fuzzy blankets thrown over the couches.

The second thing that catches your attention is the quietude permeating throughout the house, as well as the fact that the first family member to greet you two is an orange cat.

“Oh, did you miss me this much?” Minho asks in a sweet, singsong voice, similar to how you would speak to a baby. He crouches down to pet the cat, who is now entangling himself between his legs. He introduces you by your name, because Soonie is truly just another family member to him. You chuckle, kneeling next to him and carefully extending your hand toward the orange ball of fur.

“Hello, Soonie,” you speak quietly, afraid you’ll spook him. He eyes you carefully before sniffing your fingers and, ultimately, rubbing his head on your hand. You sigh in relief, petting his fur with a smile.

Minho’s cats liking you was also a non-negotiable.

You place your suitcases in Minho’s childhood bedroom, his parents letting him know they will arrive a little late after going Christmas shopping. Looking around his small room, you smile at all the small things that scream Lee Minho. The pictures of him and his friends back in high school are the first thing you notice, glued to the wall in front of his door lopsided. His thick-rimmed glasses and bowl cut make you smile as you analyze one of the pictures, where he and four other boys hug and smile widely in a karaoke room. Then, of course, his extensive plushie collection sat against a wall to your left — all stacked on top of each other like a mountain — which he proudly shows off to you.

“Y’know, I had to basically fight a little girl at the Sanrio store for this one,” he says, a bit too smugly, while holding a plush of Kuromi dressed in a ladybug costume. “I was sixteen, though, so I think that excuses my behavior. I would never do that nowadays.”

You narrow your eyes, humming skeptically. “Sure you wouldn’t.”

Minho just chuckles, meticulously placing the doll back in its place beside the cherry on top of a rather large Pusheen pudding plushie.

“Oh! You have to see my books.” He takes your hand in his, dragging you toward the wall facing his bed. A bookshelf expanding from the floor to the ceiling makes your mouth drop. You hadn’t noticed it before, with it being hidden away in the corner of the room. The bookshelf is decorated with fairy lights — which Minho promptly switches on — and filled with beautiful books, from intricately designed hard covers to intricate sprayed edges, every single book in his collection has something special about it.

He uses a small metal ladder to reach the top of the shelves before handing you a book so thick your wrist almost bends upon grabbing it. It’s a collection of seven Jane Austen novels, all in a gorgeous blue and golden hardcover. You eye the book like it’s a precious jewel, carefully running your fingers over the details engraved on the cover. Beside you, Minho lets out a breathy laugh, stepping down from the ladder and bumping your shoulder lightly.

“You can open it,” he tells you, but you’re still too mesmerized by the book to look at him. “It’s what books are for, whether they’re pretty or not. You have to open it and read it, otherwise they lose their purpose.”

You nod slowly, but remain unmoving. Minho’s hand suddenly rests on top of yours, and he opens the book for you. The page is entirely annotated, with highlighters and thoughts jotted down on pencil in messy handwriting. Looking up at him, you are met by his smile.

“See? The book is fine, the world didn’t end. I have these special editions because I enjoy collecting pretty things, but I always read them,” he explains, “I like when books reflect the emotions I felt while reading them. I annotate, scribble, highlight — I once threw a special edition Stephen King book across the living room and into a wall. There’s an indentation on it till this day.”

You gasp. “Minho, what the fuck?”

He shrugs dismissively. “I know, I know. All book sins in the eyes of many people. But, like I said, that just reflects the emotions I felt while reading that book. I look through any of these pages and I know exactly what I felt at that time of my life.”

You nod, your lips absentmindedly curling into a smile. Minho truly is something else. You skim the page opened before you, reading some of his annotations and laughing quietly to yourself as he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

As you close the book, he speaks again, “They’re a bit like people, aren’t they? Pretty and put-together on the outside, but once you really dig in, it’s all a mess and cluster of feelings and passion.”

You and Minho spend an hour lounging around the living room, with you meeting his other two cats during that time. Soonie and Doongie’s adoration toward Minho is clear, with both orange cats always rubbing against his leg or tangling themselves in his sneakers by the door as you two cuddle on the couch. Dori, however, remains laid on his cat tree, barely sparing the two of you a glance. Minho jokes that Dori hates him after he left his first mom, even showing you further proof in the form of a video where the gray cat bites his nose while he sleeps.

Upon hearing the key turn on the front door, your heart is quick to jump. Minho’s parents have arrived.

Sitting up on the couch, you gently push Minho away from you. He shoots you a questioning look.

“What? I don’t want them to think we were doing something indecent.”

“Indecent?” Minho repeats with a chuckle. “We were cuddling, not consummating a marriage on this couch.”

You grumble incoherent words under your breath, shrugging. “I know. I just want them to like me.”

“They were more than okay with seeing me cuddle my ex when I was a teen. We’re both adults, I’m pretty sure they won’t think you’re a filthy harlot.”

You gasp, hitting his chest and hissing through your teeth. “A harlot?”

Minho lets out a long, hearty laugh just as his parents walk through the door.

“Oh, there you are!” You hear his mother’s voice call out as soon as she steps inside the living room. You turn to face her and you’re greeted by the same smile you see on Minho’s face every day — they look so similar you have to hold back a gasp. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

You stand up from the couch and smooth down your long skirt, smiling while she walks toward you. You’re caught off guard when she pulls you into a hug as soon as she’s in front of you, her arms squeezing you as she sighs happily into your hair.

“Mom,” Minho calls out, “You’re scaring her.”

His mom pulls away with a chuckle, her left hand pinching her son’s cheek before resting on your shoulder again. “He’s the one who’s scared I’ll embarrass him,” she refutes. “And, god, you’re so pretty! Minho told me you were beautiful, but I just assumed it was the infatuation speaking.”

You feel your cheeks flush at her words, biting back a smile. Minho had talked to his mother about you — had said you were beautiful. You swear if you died tonight, you would die a happy woman.

As his mother steps away from you and into the kitchen, rambling on about how crowded the shopping mall had been, a man comes into your field of vision. He nods courtly before extending his hand, which you shake a bit awkwardly.

“I’m Minho’s dad,” he simply says. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Minho has been very happy on the phone since meeting you.”

And with that, he’s off into the kitchen, following his wife. You’re left a bit dazed. Minho truly was a perfect blend of his mother’s appearance and his father’s calm personality.

Beside you, Minho pulls you into a side hug, his chilly hands caressing your arms. “See? It’s impossible not to love you.”

You freeze for a moment, before relaxing as you realize he’s talking about his parents loving you. You curse yourself inwardly for being so damn emotionally constipated, but let out a sigh of relief nonetheless.

You were worried for so many different reasons — that you wouldn’t measure up to Minho’s first girlfriend, that your personality would be scrutinized until your flaws finally emerged, and that this would be the catalyst for Minho to realize you’re not worth it. Not worth waiting until you can tell him you love him, not worth waiting until you feel like sex isn’t going to just ruin everything between you, not worth the hassle and the chore that is loving someone like you.

But as he walks into the kitchen with you, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist, like he’s proud to show you off to his parents, the level of reliability he radiates is enough to melt away all the annoying little worries you had inside your head.

Christmas eve comes two days later, and you’re rudely woken up in the morning by the sound of Minho’s voice cursing under his breath as he drops something on the floor by his bed. You groan, rubbing your eyes, and he turns to face you with an apologetic look on his face.

“Sorry,” he whispers, kneeling down next to the bed and pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Good morning.”

“What time is it?”

“Eight, I think.” His fingers brush your hair away from your face. “I didn’t set an alarm ‘cause I didn’t wanna wake you up, but guess my inability to be quiet did that anyway.”

You chuckle lightly, scrunching up your nose. “Why are you up so early?”

“Gotta start cooking dinner soon,” he explains.

“Already?” You ask, perplexed. You knew he cooked Christmas dinner all by himself every year for his family, but you never conceived just how much work that would be for a single person.

Minho is unyielding despite your best efforts at persuading him to stay and cuddle you for a few more hours, and watching him cook is always oddly attractive to you, so you find yourself joining him in the kitchen, wrapped up in one of his many cat print sweaters.

At first, you simply sit up at one of the counters and watch him, mesmerized and all but drooling at the way he rolls up his sleeves, the prominent veins making his arms look so sexy while doing such a mundane thing like chopping fucking vegetables. Not to mention his hands, so beautiful and big as he rubs the seasoning on something you don’t even care to identify because you’re just too busy thinking about those hands all over your body. Only now do you notice how no real sex for almost two months has really taken a toll on you, what with the way you have to cross your legs just to try and relieve some tension because your mind won’t stop thinking about Minho’s veiny arms caging you against this counter and his big hands—

Minho calls out your name, and you snap out of your fantasies, humming as you reluctantly turn your attention toward his face with a dazed expression. He seems to find it funny, as he chuckles before repeating himself, “I asked if you would like to help. I can teach you some of the easy stuff. Must be boring just sitting there and watching.”

Oh, but it isn’t boring at all.

But you’d never tell him that, so you nod before hopping off the counter and awaiting further instructions. Turns out you’re worse at cooking than you had thought, so you’re relegated to chopping duty, which you hate for two reasons — firstly, chopping vegetables is boring, and secondly, you’re now deprived of your view of Minho as you stand with your back turned to him while he cooks.

It’s around five p.m. when Minho’s mom joins you two in the kitchen, and by that time you’ve done all you could, so you’re back to your spot on the counter. She smiles at you before ruffling Minho’s hair as he closes the oven.

“My baby is such a wonderful cook, isn’t he?” she praises, and he shrugs with a smirk.

“I am very boyfriend material, aren’t I?”

You chuckle as you watch his mom carefully fixing his hair which she had messed up, Minho scrunching up his face as she then fixes his wire-frame glasses on his nose.

“I’m so glad you’re wearing your glasses again,” she comments, cupping his cheeks and squeezing before letting go. “You look so handsome.”

“You should thank her,” Minho smiles, turning to look at you, and you shoot him a puzzling look. “Remember on your birthday, when you told me I looked good wearing glasses?” He asks, and you nod slowly. “That’s why I stopped wearing contacts.”

Your mouth opens, but you can’t find the words to answer him. You can feel your cheeks dusting pink as his mom coos at the two of you, saying something about young love that has you gnawing on your lips to hold back the silly smile you want to let out.

Minho’s mom leaves the kitchen shortly after, his father calling her from the living room. He takes this as his chance to approach where you’re sitting, hands resting on your thighs before he presses his lips against yours.

“I wanted to look handsome for you. It’s kinda pathetic, isn’t it?” He chuckles against your lips, and you simply shake your head, tangling your fingers in his black hair that has now grown past his eyes.

“It’s actually fucking adorable,” you assure him, pulling him into another kiss, one much deeper than the last.

He quickly uses his hands to spread your thighs apart, pressing his body into yours as you wrap your legs around his waist. The effect this man has on you is mindboggling; the mere slide of his tongue against your lips has you shivering. It certainly doesn’t help that you are now in the exact position from your imagination earlier today.

Minho always tasted like your own personal favorite flavor, always deliciously swirling on your tongue whenever you kissed him. He always renders your mind fuzzy and silly as bliss consumes the entirety of your being. You can only imagine how sex with him will feel like, and you don’t think you can wait any longer. Your worries be damned. You needed him more than you could handle.

But just as Minho pulls you closer to his body — your core dangerously close to his crotch, and sucking on your tongue in a way that has you mewling against his lips — his mother calls out your names, and you two quickly separate, startled as if you were burned. She informs you his grandmother has arrived and you two walk to the living room to greet her. You silently thank the universe for her not walking into the kitchen; the last thing you want is for Minho’s poor grandmother to catch you two making out on the counter like two teenagers.

She is a sweet lady, certainly not as old as you expected her to be, and she always has a smile etched onto her lips stained with red lipstick. You don’t even have to ask to know she is his mother’s mom, as the three of them share the exact same smile you grew to love so much.

You find yourself even more comfortable today, as you help both women set up the table for dinner — his grandma meticulously placing a beautiful lace cloth over the table while telling you about how this was one of her late husband’s first gifts to her when they first moved in together.

It felt as if you were part of the family.

And as you turn on your heels to grab the fancy silverware from a cabinet, your eyes meet Minho’s gaze. With a smile on his face, he stands by the kitchen door, watching you, and your heart swells with joy.

This was everything you never thought love could be.

Christmas dinner was amazing — as you knew it would be. Minho’s cooking is always fantastic, and pure happiness is written all over his face whenever he was complimented. The way he offers to serve everyone, watching intently as each of you took the first bite before he finally allowed himself to eat as well, his lips upturned into a grin and his ears red as you all hummed and gasped at how tasty everything was. It’s his love language; from the way he carefully and methodically prepares the food, to the way he enjoys watching other people eat more than eating himself. He shows his love through his cooking, you realize, and you smile as you think back to numerous times you woke up in the morning with a beautiful table set with breakfast for you after he spent the night at your house.

You haven’t put it into words yet, but he has unquestionably been showing his love for you through his little actions.

And that’s what you want to do tonight as well.

After watching a cliche Christmas movie with his family, you two are now the only ones awake with you drying off the dishes Minho’s washing. He looks beautiful even now, with his hands clad in neon green dishwashing gloves.

“Minho,” you call out, poking his rib with the plate he just handed you. He squirms with a giggle, warning you to not tickle him. You simply hum, continuing as nonchalantly as you can. “Do you wanna have sex tonight?”

His hand stills, dropping a knife on the sink as his head turns abruptly to look at you, eyes bewildered. “What? What, and you ask me this now? While we’re doing the dishes?” He sputters, and you grin with a shrug.

“It’s not a big deal,” you say, placing the plate on top of the counter. “I just… really wanna do it. Really want you.”

Minho turns off the tap — at least five knives left ignored at the bottom of the sink — removes his gloves and lets out a heavy sigh.

“Okay, not what I expected to happen on Christmas night, but I’ll take it.”

You both stare at each other for a beat, before inexplicably bursting out laughing. Maybe it’s the sheer suddenness of your request, or the absurdity of the situation you were in when it happened, but you can’t help it.

As you both calm down, Minho pulls you into his arms and informs you that he will have to go out and buy condoms, since he truly wasn’t expecting anything to happen. You don’t fault him, the two months you’ve been together were filled with you all but running away from sex. You couldn’t help it, your brain always dragging you back to that night in Japan, and the way he avoided your gaze in the morning. Although you knew it was irrational, and that he was simply shy, your self-sabotaging skills were too great, and your mind insisted that if you had sex with Minho too soon he would think you were nothing but a slut. That’s what you were told most of your life, anyway, so you couldn’t be blamed for the way your brain was almost conditioned into assuming the same.

But Minho had proved time and time again that he was not like the awful guys before him, and that all your worrying was unwarranted and foolish. You were depriving yourself of something you wanted badly out of sheer insecurity and attachment to experiences so far in the past it was almost masochistic at this point.

You insist on joining him on his impromptu trip to the convenience store, only throwing one of his sweaters over the dress and tights you wore for Christmas dinner.

Minho holds your hand as you two walk down the empty street, Christmas lights from the houses and stores making everything seem almost like a movie. You spot the familiar logo from across the street, and Minho bumps his shoulder with you while you head toward the convenience store chain where you both once worked.

“This is actually the exact one I used to work at,” He tells you as you look through a fridge hidden away in the back of the store. “I loved working the graveyard shift. I rang up so many couples awkwardly buying condoms like they were buying hard drugs.”

You chuckle, settling for some pudding you two could share later. “Will that be us tonight?”

He shrugs. “We’re adults, it’s normal to buy these things. Unless you want me to act like I’m buying crack cocaine, then I’d be happy to indulge you.”

You stick your tongue out at him with a light shove, turning to look through the rather lacking options on the condom shelf.

“Grape flavor?” Minho makes a face as he eyes one of the boxes. “Who the fuck would want the artificial taste of grapes when fucking?”

You shrug. “Could be worse, imagine banana-flavored condoms. I think I’d throw up all over your dick.”

“That’s sexy,” He jokes, and you let out a loud chuckle, earning you a look from the only other person at the store this time of night on Christmas eve.

Among your other options are a green glow-in-the-dark condom — which would only make you think of Shrek while Minho fucks you — and a strawberry-flavored one. You decide to play it safe, grabbing a box of plain, thin condoms and placing them in the basket Minho’s carrying.

“Let’s just go for the safest option,” you tell him, “We’ll have plenty of time to play around later if you want, though I’ll go on birth control once we’re back home so we won’t even need them anyway.”

You watch as Minho’s eyes widen for a second, his eyebrows shooting up almost comically.

“Sure, yeah.”

“Don’t short-circuit now. I need you functioning to fuck me.”

“Keep saying shit like that and I’ll be broken before we even make it back to my house,” he states matter-of-factly, and you chuckle, shaking your head at his words. But Minho’s expression remains unchanged. “I mean it. It’s been over a year since I’ve had proper sex. I’m surprised I didn’t combust the second you said those words to me in the kitchen.”

With a chuckle, you pull him to your side and walk toward the cashier. It’s a poor teenage boy, no older than eighteen, clearly bored out of his mind and wishing to be anywhere but here. As he rings up your items, Minho points to his phone that’s resting on the counter.

“That’s Ahri from League of Legends, right?” He asks, and the boy looks up, his eyes sparking with interest. He nods. “I don’t play, but I’m a game programmer, so I know a little bit about it. What’s your rank?”

“Grandmaster,” the boy answers proudly, his face lighting up with a hint of joy, probably for the first time since his shift started.

“Oohh,” Minho gasps loudly, basically hyping up this random boy at the convenience store. You watch the interaction with a silly smile on your face. “And you’re still young, wouldn’t be surprised to see you at World’s someday.”

The boy shakes his head dismissively as Minho hands him his card, but smiles nonetheless. Once he hands you your things, he speaks again, “Are you from around here, hyung? Let me know when you have a game out, I’d love to try it. See if you’re any good.”

Minho raises his brows at the obvious teasing lilt in his voice, lips upturning into a grin. “How about this? I’ll give you the beta code and you can start your career of testing games for money.”

“You’ll pay me?” The cashier marvels at the words, and Minho simply nods. He jots down a code from his phone into a scrap piece of paper on the counter, the boy’s face now a complete shift from the expression he wore when you first walked in, all because of Minho and his ability to be kind and sweet no matter the person or circumstance.

As you head back to his house, only the two of walk along the shy streets as the clock hands turn past midnight. Among all the bad people in this world, you’re indescribably happy that a man as good as him is the one walking beside you down this street, firmly holding your hand.

You arrive home and quietly head straight into Minho’s room. You thank any higher power that might exist for the fact that his room is the only one on the first floor, as you would have to endure your desperate need and desire for him until you got home if it wasn’t. Any of Minho’s family members walking in or hearing you two have sex would make you want to flee the country and change your name.

He joins you after storing your puddings in the fridge, making you jump with his arms wrapped around your waist while you were blankly staring at the pictures on his wall. You sigh, the realization of what was going to happen only really dawning on you now that you stand in Minho’s bedroom, and your mind starts to wander and doubt everything all over again.

“I kind of ruined the mood by asking to have sex, didn’t I?” You ask as Minho places a chaste kiss on your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder.

“There was really no mood in the first place,” he lets out a breathy chuckle. “We were washing the dishes.”

You roll your eyes, once again more annoyed at yourself than at him. You could only hope that your awful propensity of bringing up these irritating thoughts of yours at the worst possible moments didn’t drive Minho away from you. Could only hope you were worth it in the end.

“I know, it’s just…” You trail off with another heavy sigh. “This guy I dated hated that. Said I should just initiate it instead of asking like it was a business transaction.”

You feel Minho shake his head. “That’s stupid. Why would I think that?” He sounds incredulous, and hearing him say it makes you realize just how asinine that thought really was. “We had to buy condoms, anyway. It’s also good that you’re comfortable asking me that. It’s as it should be.”

And you can only smile, biting back a giggle because of course he thinks that. It’s as if Jane Austen came back from the dead simply to write Lee Minho.

His arms tighten around your waist, and you turn your head to look at him. “You should really stop thinking about… them,” He hesitates, “Your exes, I mean. Stop comparing, assuming everything will be the same and have the same sad ending. You need to let go of that in order to truly heal. I hate how every time I’m good to you, or do the bare fucking minimum, your mind spins it into something being your fault. I hate what they did to you so much.”

You feel your breath get caught in your throat, tears threatening to spill much like they do every time you are faced with this topic. But you hold them in. You don’t want to cry, not right now, not when everything is so perfect with Minho. So, instead, you take in his words. He’s undoubtedly right, and you must force yourself to face this uncomfortable truth.

Slowly, you promise yourself. You smile at him, a silent promise to him, and you know he understands you when he smiles back, his lips pressing a kiss to your lips.

He lets go of you and rummages through his drawers, and you look around once more. His plushie mountain, the pictures of his childhood and high school days. You scrunch up your nose.

“Will it be too weird to have sex in your childhood bedroom?”

From where you’re standing, his back turned to you, you can faintly make out the tip of his ears turning red as he runs a finger through his hair.

“Well, not really…” He trails off, “I had sex with my ex-girlfriend here all the time when we skipped school together.”

You let out a gasp. “Lee Minho skipped school?”

He chuckles, closing his drawers and immediately wrapping his arms around you. He’s a lot more touchy since you brought this whole topic up, you notice.

“My parents were always at work, though, so this is my first time doing it while they’re right upstairs,” He explains, bringing his finger up to your lips and lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. “So we’ll have to be quiet.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, nodding. You know all too well you’ll probably be too quiet. Once again your trauma playing a part in this, the words an old boyfriend harshly spilled about you being too loud and vocal have always been present in your head. Now that you think about it, all these moments and words are like post-it notes stuck to your mind, and you skim through like a student cramming for an exam every day in search of one that applies to your current situation. It was excruciating.

Hyunjin tried his best to change this about you, always assuring you he liked to hear you during sex when he noticed your pursed and bitten lips, and that you should be vocal about what you want and like. But you always settled for nods and quiet hums instead.

Minho presses a quick kiss on your forehead then. “I’m gonna shower ‘cause my hands still smell like onions and garlic after washing them a thousand times,” he tells you. “I’ll be right back.”

As you’re busying yourself looking through Minho’s extensive collection of books, a meow pulls your attention toward the door. It’s Dori, the gray cat you’ve decided is your favorite since it’s the only one you can easily recognize. He stares for a beat before approaching you, and you kneel carefully to stroke his soft fur. You soon find yourself sitting down by the bed with Dori on your lap, purring away as your mind travels to a future in which you and Minho adopt cats of your own, all while living together and making plans for the rest of your lives. It terrifies you slightly to allow yourself to have these thoughts because if things were to go wrong with Minho, this would only be another ‘what if’ that would haunt you.

Another post-it note to your already cluttered-up mind.

But his words from earlier come back to you just as you begin to panic. You have to let go of the past and stop assuming only the worst outcomes are attainable. And so you simply smile at the imagination, letting your mind run wild while Dori falls asleep on your lap, his gray fur all over your red dress.

You and Dori both jump as Minho all but slams the door when he returns, a towel in his hand drying his damp hair. He cringes at the sound, cursing under his breath. Dori leaves your lap, and you stand up with a pout. He definitely is your favorite cat among the three.

“Sorry,” Minho whispers, as if that will compensate for the loud noise. You take in his appearance; a green Christmas sweater and bright red sweatpants. You bite back a smile, because that’s so him.

“Your outfit is doing a great job of seducing me,” you jest, and he shrugs with a cocky grin.

“I know no woman can resist a Christmas sweater.”

He pulls you into him with a hand around your waist, his lips crashing into yours in a deep kiss. You notice he’s more frantic, less careful than he usually is, his fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as his hands slide up your back. He pulls away, breathless and flushed, and just looks at you for a moment. You can see the shift in his eyes, yearning swimming all over his brown orbs.

Clumsily, he shuts off the lights behind him then switches on the fairy lights adorning his bookshelf, his left hand still firmly clutching your body. Until it suddenly loosens, and you cock your head to the side.

“Okay, you gotta leave,” he says, and you follow his gaze, landing on Dori, who stares up at him almost defiantly. Minho lets out a sigh, opening his door before walking toward the cat and motioning toward the exit as if he will understand him. “Come on, I’ll give you treats later, hm? But you need to leave now, Dori.”

You fail to hold back a chuckle. “Why does the poor baby have to leave? He looks so comfortable snuggled up on the floor.”

“I can’t have sex while Dori watches,” he deadpans as if it were an obvious answer. “It’ll be weird.”

“Minho, it’s a cat. He doesn’t know what’s going on.”

“It’s still weird! And I…” He trails off, running a hand through his hair. He’s still facing the door when he blurts out, “I told you, I’m already really fucking nervous ‘cause it’s been a while since I’ve had sex. I might not be the best.”

You shake your head with a smile, crossing your arms over your chest. “Minho, that’s not possible.”

“Yes, it is!” He finally turns to face you. “Remember back in Japan? I came too fast, it was embarrassing. That’s why I never let you touch me.”

You jokingly pout at him. “Thought you just liked eating me out.”

“I fucking love eating you out, but I’m not exactly refusing that you do the same because I want to,” he explains, “I’m just scared I’ll be bad at it.”

You furrow your brows. “Bad at… getting a blowjob?”

Minho’s ears are dusted a light pink, and he throws his hands up. “Well, yes! Back in Japan I didn’t even know what to do with my hands. I don’t know what you like, and I haven’t been with anyone else to know what most people like so…” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Fuck, I was so nervous that night, you have no idea.”

“You were nervous?” You let out a huff, recalling Minho’s clear shift in demeanor that night. “Looking into my eyes the entire time and pinning me down to the bed, that’s you being nervous?”

His entire face now flushes red, and he returns his gaze toward the door, where Dori paddles out of the room graciously. He promptly shuts the door, locking it this time.

“I was nervous,” He tells you, taking a step toward you. “I kept looking at you ‘cause I couldn’t believe that was actually happening. Felt like you were gonna disappear if I looked away,” His hands cup your face gently, and your lips unknowingly curl into a smile. “And when you looked at me in the morning, all I could think about was how awful I was the night before.”

You have to fight the strong urge to laugh because god, that’s why he was acting shy and avoiding your gaze. You berate yourself for even thinking otherwise, for ever assuming Minho could be like your ex-boyfriends. His words ring even more true than before.

You let out a groan, realizing you two have been putting off having sex for such mindless reasons. When he shoots you a questioning gaze, you simply say, “Minho, we’re both fucking idiots, d’you know that?”

And before he can say anything else or even entertain the idea of overthinking any more, you pull him into a kiss. With a surprised hum, Minho gently pushes you back, and your knees meet the softness of the mattress causing you to fall back into his bed. He climbs on top of you, pulling away from the kiss.

“You still gotta tell me what you like,” he repeats, his lips all but pouting at you. You smile up at him.

“No,” you say simply, pushing his hair back with your fingers as it fell into his eyes. “It’s better if we figure that out together, isn’t it?”

Minho chuckles, promptly pressing his lips to yours, your hand tugging at his hair gently as his tongue glides across your lips, causing a soft whine to slip from your throat before you can stop it.

“I like that,” he says between kisses, “When you make these pretty noises.”

You feel your cheeks heat up at his words and take that as your chance to take the first small step in healing, adding a post-it to your mind, reminding you not to suppress any noise that Minho coaxes out of you tonight.

The atmosphere in his room feels perfect — like heaven, as he would say. The soft yellow glow emanating from his bookshelf made everything seem dreamy; his honey skin looked stunning, and his eyes gleamed like the stars in the sky every time they met yours.

It was undoubtedly so much more intimate and passionate than any other time you had sex before, and you were both still fully clothed.

It was just like what Minho had told you many months ago.

His hands travel through your body until they rest on your back, finding the buttons of your dress, slowly opening each one as his lips trail down your neck, softly sucking on the skin. As he gingerly slides your dress down your torso, you realize that this will be the first time you two see each other naked. Yet, you don’t feel nervous. You want nothing more than to be close to him, with no barriers between you, to finally be tangled with him like the roots on the ground.

Minho unclasps your bra, his gaze unmoving from your chest as he slips the garment off of your skin and drops it on the floor. It’s almost as if you can feel his gaze burning you, your chest tightening and your breath hitching in your throat. He licks his lips, leaning down to wrap them around your nipple, his hand promptly finding your other breast and softly massaging it. You let out a choked gasp, tugging at his hair.

You feel his lips stretch into a smile before he softly bites the bud.

“So you like this,” He mumbles, pressing a wet kiss to your nipple. “Duly noted.”

You giggle at his words, your hands tangling in his hair once more. His kisses travel up again, from your chest to your neck, until he’s back to kissing your lips. Both of his hands now massage your breasts, alternating between rolling your nipples between his rough fingers and pinching them lightly, causing a rush to spread across your entire body. You feel your arousal trickle down your slit as you grow more desperate.

“Minho,” you call out between kisses, and he hums against your lips. “Do something,” you all but beg him, yearning for some release as you feel the small, unrelenting pulse between your thighs grow stronger with each stroke of his finger across your chest. Your hands now grasp at his sweater, tugging it over his head, the fabric also discarded somewhere on the floor of his room.

Your hands travel over the expanse of his chest, fingertips taking in every inch of his soft skin. Breaking away from his lips, you push him back softly so you can revel in the sight of him; his delicate collar bones, his strong arms, and soft stomach. He’s beautiful, breathtakingly so, and you don’t know what you did to be deserving of him.

“Enjoying the view?” He jokes, and you breathe out a laugh, your gaze flying up toward his face — his lips swollen, and his cheeks flushed a pretty red.

“Minho, you’re so beautiful,” you whisper absentmindedly, and he smiles at you, softly pressing his lips to yours.

“You should see how you look,” he whispers.

His left hand soon slips underneath your dress skirt, fingertips grazing your skin over your tights. You feel goosebumps trickle along your thighs following his every touch, so eager to feel his hands on your skin you’re sure you’ll rip your tights in half yourself if Minho doesn’t get rid of them soon.

He seems to grow as impatient as you, lifting your hips with a strong grip to slide down your dress, tights, and panties off of you all in one go. In no time, you are now laid bare before him, and Minho is swift to trail kisses down your stomach, sloppy and messy, painting your skin with his saliva as his mouth waters at the mere prospect of tasting you.

With a heavy sigh, he stares at your glistening wetness before promptly wrapping his lips around your clit without a warning and sucking, ardently, vulgar sounds filling his small room much like they do every time he eats you out. Always messy, always eager, humming against your pussy and sighing as his eyes glaze over with pure want.

You squirm like lighting has shocked through your entire body. No matter how often you experience the satisfaction of Minho’s lips on you, it always leaves you trembling like it’s the first time. His right hand slides up the expanse of your stomach until it reaches your breast again, his thumb lazily circling your nipple. You purse your lips as his fingers tentatively trail across your folds, spreading your wetness up to your clit before lapping at it slowly, the small bud swollen and aching.

You’re quick to remember to open your mouth, letting out the heavy sigh that had stuck to your throat as his finger enters you, Minho still licking and sucking your sensitive clit, nipping harshly and making your sigh fade into a whine. Hand tangling in his hair and tugging, you elicit a low groan from his throat, which you feel reverberate through your slick folds.

Your thighs shake as he adds a second finger, and soon a third, thrusting them inside of you and stroking your walls more vigorously than he usually does, as if he somehow also feels your pleasure and needs to lead you to your high as quickly as possible.

Minho’s hand leaves your chest, and you bite back a pout, his fingers now gripping your hips before pushing them up so he can reach deeper. It isn’t long before his fingers drag across the spot inside of you that has your muscles tensing up, a strangled moan falling from your lips at the sensations coupled with the unrelenting feeling of his tongue on your clit. You come undone around his fingers and lips with a harsh tug of his black hair, rutting your hips against his face desperately, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as you do.

He laps up your juices as you slowly come down from your high, tongue flicking inside of you and sucking hard before he presses a long kiss to your cunt. Your entire body jerks in response to the overstimulation.

His kisses travel toward your inner thigh, your lower stomach and breasts until he reaches your neck, where his teeth nip at the soft skin, sucking harshly before his tongue soothingly licks at the spot. As Minho positions himself between your thighs again, you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Your mind goes hazy for a beat as you feel the thick outline of his cock press against your bare core.

“Minho,” you call out again, your voice significantly more whiny this time around, shaky and breathless, “Wanna taste you.”

He groans against your skin, pressing small kisses up your neck until he ultimately stops against your open lips. He breathes out a heavy sigh.

“Really want that, too,” he rasps out, voice hoarse as his dark eyes travel across your face. “But I really wanna fuck you. Shit, I need to fuck you so badly you have no idea,” He groans. You feel his length jump at his words as he presses your foreheads together and locks his gaze with you. “That’ll be hard to do if your pretty lips go anywhere near my cock.”

You breathe out a chuckle, pressing a small kiss to his lips. “Then get to it,” you simply say.

Minho’s lips curl into a grin. “Will you remember to be quiet for me this time? My baby sounded so pretty coming around my fingers.”

Your cheeks flush, just how loud you were before only now dawning on you. Fuck. Your words get stuck to your throat, your mouth opening but making no sound, so you settle for a nod.

He chuckles. “Good,” he replies with a kiss to your agape lips.

Minho sits up, detangling himself from your body briefly. He reaches for the box on his bedside table, scrambling with the cardboard before clumsily tearing it open and retrieving a condom. It’s only then you notice how his hands are trembling, from nervousness or pure lust. Either way, you find yourself smiling at the sight.

You reach out to run a hand along his arm soothingly, watching with hungry eyes as he tugs at his drawstrings before freeing his cock from the confines of his sweatpants. Minho hisses as he rolls the rubber over his length, shaky hands stroking himself one, two, three times, all while you eye him, watching greedily as if you were his own personal captive audience.

He lowers himself once again, hand now sliding across the length of your thigh before gripping the flesh, nails digging into your skin as he eyes you with an almost pleading gaze.

“Can I—”

“Please do,” you answer, almost frantically, before he even has the time to assume you might say no. You inch your thighs apart even more so Minho can slot himself perfectly between them.

Your mouth waters as you catch sight of him gripping his cock once more, tapping it against your swollen clit and eliciting a whine from your lips as your hands scramble to find purchase in his strong arms. Minho’s eyes then find yours much like they did back in Japan, and you know you are done for. His dark gaze once again felt all-consuming — desire and adoration swimming along his brown eyes, looking at you as if he were in a daze. Your grip on his arms tightens as he lazily slides his cock up and down your soaked slit, coating himself in your arousal. Minho’s lips fall open as he continues his movements, the blunt head of his cock gliding along your folds almost painfully slow.

He leans in to close the small gap between your lips, before whispering something you can’t quite understand against them.

“I fucking love you,” he repeats himself more clearly, and finally pushes forward, his girth pushing into you as you gasp, feeling as if all the air has been stolen from you.

You aren’t sure if your reaction is due to his words, or the way his cock is working you open so good, or maybe it was a delicious blend of the two. All you know at the moment is Minho, Minho, Minho, your mind foggy as his name rings inside your head like a mantra.

“Don’t gotta say anything back,” he tells you in a breathy voice, “Just want you to know I love— Fuck,” he groans as he is now fully sheathed inside of you, and you clench at both the feeling and the words spilling from his lips. Of course he would choose now to tell you he loved you. “Love you so much, so much I’d do anything for you. Would wage a war with the world if you asked me to…” He babbles, words slipping past his lips like they were the easiest thing for him to say. Like he meant it so deeply, he didn’t have to put any thought into it. His words only die as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips.

Minho pulls his hips back in one swift motion, hands lifting your thighs around his body as he thrusts into you, evoking a rather loud noise from the back of your throat which is smothered by his kiss.

“You take me so well,” he growls against your lips, “We fit perfectly.” He breaks the kiss to look down at where your two bodies are connected. It felt as if you were one, melting into each other little by little the more Minho thrust his cock inside of you. You simply nod, mind even more dizzy with the way he’s already pulling out again before slamming back into you, his pace quickening as he presses you into the mattress.

Your nails dig into his skin, crescent moon shapes blooming over the expanse of his honey skin. His eyes still bore into you, hips now thrusting at an unrelenting pace, his small room filled with a cacophony of wet sounds, whines tumbling from your parted lips and curses that almost silently fell from his.

“Gonna come soon,” Minho chokes out, his eyebrows furrowing, “I’m sorry, I—”

You silence him with a press of your lips, hands now tangling in his messy hair.

“You’re always so good to me,” you tell him, feeling his cock pulse inside of your walls. “Wanna be good to you too, make you feel good.”

And he simply leans down before kissing you reverently. The sound of his skin slapping against yours mixed with the creaking of his bed likely much too loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. At least not at the moment. Not with the way his hand snakes along your hips, rough fingers now rolling delicious circles around your clit while his other palm presses down onto your abdomen, and his cock continuously hits a spot inside of you that has you all but crumbling apart underneath him.

Your mouth falls open, breaking the kiss, his cock twitching inside of you as his body stills on top of you. With furrowed brows and agape lips, Minho comes mere seconds before you reach your high as well, toes curling against his back as you melt onto his cock.

You stay that way for a while — a few seconds, maybe minutes — simply looking at each other as your labored breaths intertwine.

You finally reach up, brushing his dampened hair away from his beautiful eyes that now look at you as if you were the sole reason why the stars sparkle. Minho’s fingers soon find yours, tangling together as he brings your hands to his lips and presses a chaste kiss to your knuckles.

You smile.

You love him.

It’s not a realization but rather a confirmation of something you’ve already known all too well and for far too long. You still can’t put it into words, but somehow, you are certain that he knows just as well.

Minho accidentally awoke you in the morning with his habit of slamming his door shut, apologizing as you grumbled at him and insisted you would only accept his apology if he let you give him a blowjob. He laughed, simply pulling you closer to him on the bed as he sat up and you finally gave the most beautiful man you had ever met the head he deserved.

Minho’s parents and grandmother had left to eat at a fancy restaurant, and after lying through his teeth and telling his very distraught mother that you were feeling too sick to leave the bed, you two stayed behind. They didn’t have to know the real reason you couldn’t leave the bed — Minho and his apparent insatiable hunger for you. It was as if something had been awoken inside him now that he had a taste of you, and he had to make up for all the lost time.

You two only leave his room late in the afternoon, the sun setting on the pale winter sky outside his bedroom window. His family would arrive soon, and you needed to get ready for their tradition of opening Christmas presents while watching bad holiday movies.

When Minho followed you when you headed toward the bathroom, you thought little of it. It was only when he began undressing alongside you that panic truly set in.

“We literally had sex, why do you sound so horrified?” Was all he offered you when you asked what he was doing before entering the steamy shower with you.

It was your first time showering with someone, and the fact that it made you so nervous felt almost pathetic. Minho was right; you had sex, and you saw each other naked and sweaty and vulnerable. This shouldn’t be any different.

Except it was.

You found yourself too awkward to wash yourself, doing a terrible job at pretending to scrub at your arms as you watched Minho shower like a normal person. He let out a chuckle after rinsing his hair, shaking his head.

“Are you seriously shy? Seriously?” He asked, turning your body around so your back faced him. “The girl who begged to suck my cock just this morning is too shy to shower in front of me?”

You opened your lips to refute him, but your words died in your mouth as you felt Minho’s hand spread shampoo all over your hair. His fingers gently massaged your scalp before placing his hand over your eyes to shield them from the foam as he rinsed your hair. He repeated the process with conditioner, then moved on to wash your body with his almost sickly sweet watermelon body wash. He did it all while humming, making you so relaxed and comfortable that all your silly insecurities dissipated in the air along with the steam from the hot water.

Suffice to say, showering without Minho would now be a sad affair.

You are now sitting on the floor before the television, his family exchanging gifts. Dori purred on your lap, and Soonie bit Minho’s socks, trying his best to remove the fabric from his feet. It’s finally time for you two to exchange gifts, and you’re a bit glad his family seemed to be so immersed in the movie because you know you would combust if you had to explain your gift to them.

“Here,” you hand him an orange box with a black bow. “It’s stupid. Now that I think about it, it’s probably such a fucking dumb gift. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and Eunha even made one for her sister. I almost stole hers ‘cause it turned out much better than mine—”

“My god,” Minho interrupts you with a hearty laugh, taking the box in his hands and inspecting it. “It’s been a while since you word vomited so much. What the hell did you get me that made you so nervous?”

He pulls on the bow, unraveling it before taking the black fabric in his hands and tying it around your head. He laughs once more, and you roll your eyes.

“Minho, just get to it before I snatch this box from you.”

With one last chuckle, he finally opens the box. He stills as he takes in the notebook, sitting on top of far too much wrapping tissue paper. The cat print cardstock paper was a pain to find, but it’s worth it now as you watch Minho’s lips curl into a smile as his fingers gingerly travel through the cover. It was crooked, a bit too small, and still reeked of bookbinding glue, but it reminds you of the day you met Minho, and that was all you thought about when you decided on this gift.

“You fucking bound me a notebook,” he says, still bewildered.

“Took me a while, but I did say I was gonna do it. I’m a woman of my word.”

Minho looks up at you, his smile reaching his eyes and turning them into the pretty crescent moons you love so much. “I love it,” he beams, hands now squeezing your cheeks as he pulls you into a small kiss. “This and that coffee stained notebook are going on my bookshelf back in my dorm, displayed in all their glory.”

Minho pulls away and reaches toward two small boxes on the coffee table. He clears his throat, handing you one box as he settles the other on his lap.

“I thought of you when I saw this on my Instagram feed,” he simply says, fingers toying with the misshaped bow on top of the box — one very similar to the one on your birthday gift many months ago. “Thought about what we talked about in Japan, y’know, about soulmates.”

You raise a brow at him, quickly undoing the bow on your box as curiosity washes over you. You pick up a bracelet made only of red thread, eyeing it curiously.

Minho retrieves the same bracelet from his own box, putting it on before asking, “Have you heard of the red string of fate?”

“That myth that a thread connects two people meant to be together?” You question.

He nods. “Exactly. I feel like that was us,” He explains, taking the red bracelet from your hands and slipping it around your wrist before gently tightening the thread. “Feel like all our little coincidences were little threads tying us together until we met.”

You feel the tears well up in your eyes, but you don’t bother trying to hide or stop them this time. Grabbing Minho’s hand that stilled around your wrist, you lace your fingers together, admiring your matching bracelets. It could only be fate. Every small detail that aligned and every road you two crossed to reach the place where you are now could only have come to be because fate wanted it to be that way.

Out of every city you could have lived in, every different university you could have chosen to attend, down to every other seat that could have been empty on the day you met Minho — everything fell into place like a puzzle piece, exactly as if a long, invisible string tied you to him and finally decided it was time to pull you together.

Minho’s gentle touch brushes against your cheek as he silently wipes your tears — no words are needed between you two at that moment as he smiles softly at you while you feel your eyes burn from the cry you had held back for so long. And, as if you’re his mirror, you feel yourself smile as his lips upturn into a grin when his gaze shifts to the open window.

“It’s snowing,” he beams. “It’s the first snow of the year, and our first snow together.”

You stand in front of Minho’s house, the light snow falling softly and covering your heads in white as he kisses you, only stopping to grumble against your lips.

“Your phone’s going crazy in my pocket,” He pouts, and you furrow your brows. You had already sent your family holiday messages, and your friends were all busy with their own Christmas celebrations, so you were clueless about who it could be.

“Can you check it for me?”

Minho nods, untangling himself from your embrace just enough to reach into his pocket and grab your phone to unlock it.

“There’s like fifty new messages from a group chat. Best Fucking Five?” He chuckles lightly at the name, his chilly breath tickling your cheek.

You, on the other hand, immediately frowned as you heard the name. It’s a long-forgotten group chat with your old friend group from high school. You had all stopped talking a little before graduation, with you especially distancing yourself from them upon realizing their toxic words and reactions to your relationships only served to make you feel worse about yourself. No one bothered to leave or delete the group since it quietly died and had stayed that way for over three years now.

Minho hands you the phone, and you click another notification that pops up as soon as you unlock the device.

The conversation began with your former friend sending a screenshot of one of your ex-boyfriend’s newest Instagram post. You skim through the caption and blanch at the words accompanied by a sonogram picture. His girlfriend is pregnant, and he’s over the moon about it.

And you, for some reason, find yourself laughing so much you have to clutch onto Minho’s shoulder as your stomach starts to hurt.

He shoots you an understandably puzzled look, but you can’t stop the giggles that spill from your lips, so you settle on showing him the screenshot.

“I got the best Christmas gift tonight,” Minho reads from the screen. “I'm going to be a dad, and the most wonderful woman I’ve ever known is the mother,” he trails off with a questioning lilt, brows furrowing as that had only confused him more.

“It’s one of my exes,” you manage to tell him after catching your breath.

Minho hums, taking your hands and shoving them in his overcoat pocket along with your phone.

“And why did that make you lose your mind laughing?” He asks with a small smile.

“I guess it was the shock, really. It also made me realize just how little I care about him now. All of them, actually. Every time I was broken up with or had my heart broken in some way, it honestly felt like the end of the world,” you explain, “Like my heart would never recover and like I would hate them for the rest of my life. For years I had such a strong ax to grind with them, and that hatred and grudge only caused me harm. It made me hate love, and it made me blame myself.”

Minho nods, pressing his forehead to yours. Around you two, the snow got thicker, and only the distant sounds of children laughing from neighboring houses could be heard throughout the quiet street.

“But it’s different now?”

You smile up at him. “It’s different now, and I only just realized that. These people are no longer people I hate. They’re simply their words and their actions toward me, but they, as people, mean nothing to me.”

Minho smiles and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. This realization makes you feel lighter, like a small part of the weight of healing has been removed from the equation. It’s only you and yourself now; none of them has any power over your emotions anymore.

“Maybe we should send the baby a present,” you joke, and Minho buries his head in the crook of your neck with a chuckle, and you jump as his cold nose brushes against your skin.

“Maybe we should.”

At that moment, in the arms of this amazing man who has helped you more than he will ever know, you realize that love truly isn’t bad. People can be bad, circumstances can be catastrophic, and wrong timing can destroy nearly everything. But love is, at the core of it all, good.

“Minho,” you call out, feeling him hum against your skin before lifting his head to look at you. “I love you,” you say simply.

His smile rivals every pretty thing around you. The first snow, the gleaming Christmas decorations, and even the moon herself pale in comparison to the smile that Minho gives you.

“I love you, too,” he replies, a tangible sense of bliss in his voice, as if he has yearned for a lifetime to finally be able to say those words to you.

You wrap your arms tighter around Minho, and your fingers brush against the red thread that adorns your wrist. It truly feels as if fate had led you to Minho, leaving little clues along the way to make sure you both knew when you finally met. His journey to you had been relatively easy, while yours had been heart-wrenching, but in the end, it had brought you heaven.

If soulmates really are a thing, there is not an ounce of doubt in your being that Minho is yours. More than anything, he taught you that love is present in everything around you. Love is being kind to others like Minho is kind to his family and strangers in convenience stores at midnight. Love is staying up with your best friend while she cries on the couch, not expecting anything in return. Love is the laughter of little kids on Christmas night echoing throughout a neighborhood. Love is also going out on your own, doing something simply because it will make you happy, and being kind to yourself. All this time, you held onto the belief that love is destructive and only leads to sadness, oblivious to the fact that it has surrounded you every step of the way.

Love is everywhere and in everything.

In the end, Minho had always been right.

Love is the most amazing thing in life.

♡ taglist: @notevenheretbh1, @malunar28replies, @jazziwritesthings, @finchyyy, @bloom-ings, @linocz, @minhochaos, @lastgreatamericandynasty1, @missminhoe, @jungkookies1002, @meanergreener

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beescake · 2 months

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PLEASE PLEASE MEGADUMP THE ARASOL!!! PLEAAASEE MR BEESCAKE I AM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU

HFHGHD GLADLY aaa i’ve been adding notes to it here and there for months but just hesitant to post it bcs im 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂

also this is just my own takeaway of the events, it doesn’t necessarily comply to the Ultimate Truth of Canon-Alignment or represent the actual facts of what hussie intended! v sentimental smh but hopefully its still interesting to read

i love when characters inform each other by proximity, it's one of my fave things to see in media :') it feels even more significant when two characters deliberately choose to stick together, so that when one operates, you can tell the other is similarly aligned in associative solidarity.

sollux is a keystone of this trope — whoever he aligns with is a wordless statement, a nod of approval. this stood out to me bcs the main four humans were alr friends by default, but once you reach hivebent you realize the trolls can actively choose who they want to hang out with.

and as we all know, after assessing every troll's biases/loyalties, sollux is the only one who maintains his selective preference for innately Good 👍 people.

aradia is such a beautiful character honestly, she evokes such incredible feelings in me. she might not have been consistently written with care but the best parts of her character are truly stunning. i think it's easy to remember sollux as the self-sacrificing one bc he's so open about it (and his friends frequently react to his Moments) but when you compare him to aradia, it's always struck me

how much more. raw it is

to be so alone as an agent of time, having to orchestrate immeasurably harrowing events nobody understands or gives a fuck about

with your role painted in the story as one who must tend to the needs of the narrative, responsible to match every next note

because when you're given the capabilities, it becomes your duty to carry it out.

it becomes expected of you to keep experimenting and arranging the machinations to work for everyone, dusting off hundreds of necessary failures to keep going

and having to be so unwavering in your drive knowing miserably that there's no one who can help you but yourself.

or alternatively: to make things fun! so other people won't think twice about letting you go off on your own.

sure she's had some very good buds, notably thanks to Team Charge v Team Scourge antics.

and yet, at the end of the day, the one friend that kept choosing her time and time again was the friend with the highest standards.

i can see why people like to define arasol as moirails/matesprits but surprisingly i find the nondescript, unlabeled aspect of their relationship more straightforward to understand.

there's no shortage of people who would accommodate sollux. most of the surviving trolls are his oldest friends bcs he’d chosen them well. his transparency with his feelings had built him strong friendships that won’t falter or break, regardless of how much of a dick he can be. they’ve already seen and accepted him at his worst, and they still like him for who he is.

contrast that with aradia, who'd been so approachable, friendly and reliable in her exchanges it was super fun to talk to her. but the moment she became depressed, all her connections broke down.

her friends became hesitant to interact with her (until she became god tier, “happy” and amicable again) because her gloom and resignation didn’t serve them. she dealt with it alone.

there’s def something of note here abt the disparity between the way male & female characters are written+perceived in homestuck (esp parallel arasol with davejade) but i won’t go into that lmaoo

with this in mind i like to think of sollux as a gift to her, a loyal companion given to complement and commend her resolve. she's capable of doing so much alone but hussie took the time to build her and sollux's relationship as one of a unit; a set.

the ambiguity of their status does complicate things, but i do believe it makes sense with their characters. aradia's relationship with romance is a rocky one, the dubious stringalong equius had with her is a pointed reminder that her feelings of attraction are ultimately controlled by the author writing her.

unlike the other trolls who can openly address and own up to their crushes, aradia had romantic emotions forced upon her (especially when hussie implies 'she kissed equius back on her own volition'). and it seems like her character is so intrinsically neutral abt attraction that even when forced by the almighty powers above, she's unable to retain it wholly.

however, looking back to pre-game when she could actually "choose" her own feelings, she did have a crush on sollux.

their soft spots for each other were so obvious to the point where other people could see it.

taunting aside, when vriska comments on their unit as bf/gf it actually informs the audience that arasol's relationship is romantic in nature despite not aligning with the quadrant system.

even while dead, aradia could still describe her care for sollux, expressing that she would like to see him happy. if they had more time to explore their relationship on alternia, it's possible they could've settled in a quadrant once they grew older.

but going back to the lack of labels, their dynamic was affected once more when aradia became god tier.

to me, her ascension was both the perfect culmination and possible closure of her character. it's the light at the end of her journey toiling through countless of timelines where she had to actively assess and participate. that's why it's cool to see her being silly and having fun giving guidance, passively exploring and watching other people do their parts.

and yet the joy of her freedom makes it hard to explore further introspection. if we take her by her word, she'd already come to terms with the hurt she's been through and forgiven those involved.

i can't help feeling attuned to how impersonal and detached it can be, to devote and meld your identity so completely with your designated position as Maid of Time until you've become hard for your old friends (and even some readers!) to personally connect to.

idk post-canon but i assume there’s some degree of similarity to be bridged here with aradia's god tier and how the hs2 humans' Ultimate forms was described as a consolidation of all their possibilities. since aradia's classpect is inherently of service to Time, going god-tier may have elevated her beyond personhood with the "game construct" possessing her entirely. sollux doesn't realize the extent of it bcs he's still mortal, but a part of him may have subconsciously understood this.

i think there is a core aspect to aradia that was lost to the dehumanizing glory of god tier — a core aspect that may have contained an element of why sollux enjoyed talking to her in the first place.

to him, aradia hadn't just been a nice girl, she was a cool girl. despite not having much in common, he's still willing to chill next to her so she's not alone while she does what needs to get done.

back on alternia, they held a mutual and equal-level regard for each other that could've definitely settled into something permanent. but now, he's placed himself in a position where he can be kept around or left behind at will. the parameters of the relationship are largely in aradia's court, so any label she suggests to identify their relationship with he's likely to accept.

but that's why it's so difficult to label it. because god tier aradia may not necessarily Want quadrants or relationship labels. rather than the initial romantic attachment, their commitment to each other had evolved into one fundamentally of companionship.

no label? ok fine. no matter what, he still thinks she's a good soul worth latching on to. the best, actually. aradia > everyone else.

even if it gets stilted at times. there's an unexpected struggle to connect when sollux's go-to default for talking points is his feelings about things, and aradia may not want to talk about emotions all the time.

not to mention god tier aradia became an observer, especially of chaos. but sollux's avoidance of involvement comes partially from his innate pressure to get involved if something goes wrong. and he can't always tell when something goes wrong, because aradia doesn't mind if things go wrong anymore.

it's a non-negotiable preference that causes them to take the occasional time apart, a new boundary that wouldn't have existed before the game and aradia's god tier.

but just like how his friends tolerated his moods, sollux accepts aradia as she is. with no quadrants, their connection doesn't break down because there's no implicit romantic expectations to be disappointed by or resentful over.

sometimes when i see hs content that deliberately distances sollux from aradia, i assume this is the dissonance people might have felt. people might find it "easier" to be cynical about them bcs of this strange tension.

but idc lmao. grab that shit by the neck

lack of easy resolutions and cleanly tied ribbons is pretty standard of homestuck and imo it doesn't make arasol's dynamic any less incredible. with the right affection and consideration, there's still so much potential to develop the nuance of their relationship outside of the popular quadrant-based depictions.

hs has a lot of really great character compatibilities but the way aradia and sollux are in their own special orbit is why i can write this much about them in the first place. it's that frail innocence between first loves that makes it so sweet to me, two kids who grew up too fast playing guesswork without being clear where they're going.

ultimately i do think you're meant to feel a little tragedy for just how much they care for each other, even if they can't quite establish it in simple terms.

maybe they keep taking breaks to progress their own paths. maybe they remain as anchor partners while seeing other people. but even if you decide to separate them, they're still (awkwardly) texting each other updates all the while. and when they reunite it feels like coming home.

and well. more than anything, i like to believe that they do want to be exclusive.

they're just afraid. after all, they're still learning how to love, beyond the projections of the foursquare quadrant system they had inadvertently distanced themselves from since young.

they might not have everything figured out, but they'll get there eventually if you just hold them together and write them there.

optional post-canon segment:

one of the limitations of main hs is that (monogamous) relationships are often written as the go-to solution to wrap up character growth; it's an easy "patch" to imagine characters getting their happy ending because they have a partner, and those who don't end up with someone don't get that closure (most notably jade).

hs2 reaffirms this by suggesting that aradia's character cannot progress without letting sollux go, because happily settling in a relationship automatically locks your potential.

that pathetic panel of sollux staring emptily into the sky is still my fave hs2 spoiler ngl i find the impact of their parting so emotionally provoking precisely bcs they were written in original hs to be each other's forever, coming back together again and again

but now, they're subject to the decisions of the post-canon authors who might choose to deviate from that.

it's not new for them to part, but now there's an underlying worry that her dropping him off this time might be the last time. while i think the prospect of shattering their stability to make them grow separately sounds fun on paper, no amount of me desperately hoping for a good execution is gonna guarantee it

idk. i guess prediction-wise im expecting sollux in classic dramatic-hs2 fashion to tell dave to back off aradia LMAO. otherwise it's just gon be sollux and karkat pathetically watching aradia and dave from a distance swimming in their unresolved feelings for narratively-powerful time players smh obvs it sounds corny as hell but who knows its still plausible

srsly tho i hope they take the opportunity to develop arasol's relationship in a fresh direction that doesn't hurt me too badly...... and i hope they force sollux out of his comfort zone. i like watching him struggle :-)

#sorry if this isnt fully accurate heh its just my personal impressions/feelings #despite best efforts to simplify my annotations the wall of text still ended up massive #there's also a comparison i wanted to make abt characters who “broke up” from romantic expectations losing a lot of what they had before #dave(sprite)/jade‚ karkat/terezi‚ dirk/jake etc = which is why i think arasol was rescued by hussie on purpose. arasol endgame truth #ngl there mightve been more moments that shouldve been mentioned but i have no memories of... limited cloud storage #long post #ask #anon #homestuck #arasol #aradia megido #sollux captor #arapostings #2024 #vioart #not disqualifying acespec/qpr reading i think its also possible :]#if anything i dont understand fanon killing off aradia for their sollux ships haiyaaa why is this trope so damn popular #every time i open a slkt fic and aradia is dead i go outside and burn a tree. global warming could not come sooner #slkts who treat aradia like dvkts treat jade…. i punt u football style

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m1ndbrand · 4 months

Text

"and all it took was..." — Prize

WARNINGS: Slight!NSFW it's suggestive I would say 18+; Coriolanus Snow is it's own warning(Snow after the 10thGames, 2 years after to be precise); slight dub-con; mentions of physical assault; a small mental breakdown in the beginning; Reader is also not "normal"; This is after the Reader's Hunger Games, she was 18 when chosen, she is 19 now(the same age Lucy Gray would be/is);

SUMMARY: The 12th Hunger Games winner unfortunately fortunately gets the attention of President Snow.

WORDS: 2.079

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the franchise The Hunger Games characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them. I do claim what i wrote and only that.

DIVIDERS BY: @cafekitsune (Thank you so much, all your work is lovely!)

A/N: I wasn't really going to publish this but as I finish it I just thought, hell, why not? So here it is, I apologize for any errors or mistakes and/or writing, English is not my first language and I usually don't write I just read really.

MASTERLIST

“ease a little—” the feminine voice pleaded almost, her voice strained. He only tightened his grip, burying his face deeper into the warmth of her skin. She stills a breath, waiting for something sharp and painful, a slap against her cheek for her words.

It doesn’t come.

No words, no warning bark, and not a bite felt in her skin. He just grabbed her tighter.

She hated him, she reminds herself when a small bud of sympathy begins to form for him. She hated him.

But he wanted her…for some reason she could not fathom, needed someone, and she always wished to feel wanted. Wanted by her family even if she was born a girl and not a boy like they so ardently wished, wanted as a friend, a lover, someone…anything— wanted. Just wanted. She craved that her whole life. Hungered for it.

And this is all he wants from her, stay with him, let him hold her, even if he is the vile man she knows he is, he wants…no he needs her, she understands as his grip trembles as her hands move again to try and move his away from her. She had never seen him like this.

A sick satisfaction settles inside her being against her better judgment, her heart beating faster as he cries against her flushed skin, fuck he really was that attacked already? She sighs and lets her head fall against the too-soft pillow, her body relaxing against his grip, letting the snake smother her.

Was this dangerous…? Yes well— he did kill people, one was the person he loved, that he was attached to…but she needed him too. She needed his attachment, his feelings even if twisted ones to survive, to get back home… Will he let her though? The thoughts ring in her head like a bright red warning light, would he let her get out of his arms and sight?

The cold softness of the inside of her hand touches his warm and slightly wet cheek, mumbling the nickname she knows he will answer to. Coryo.

He beams. Bless him, he actually beamed to her, eyes glazed as he looked for whatever she would be saying before she even said it.

Protect my family. They need money, food—

She wanted to say, but she knew his mistrustful self would see this as her trying to manipulate him, which she was, for the benefit of her family.

So before those words come out, she swallows them, and she kisses his cheek to disperse any emotions he could read in her face that would indicate any of her thoughts. It was short and sweet, and she could feel her cheeks flushing slightly as the shame settled inside her. She never thought she would need to do this to survive— any act of caring as soft and simple as this was, she thought of only brutal killing and lies, and manipulation would be in her way to survive inside the Arena. Inside the Capitol, the games she was unlucky enough to get dragged to.

What she hated the most was that the red in her cheeks was not only from the shame of her actions but also because the kiss was close to his mouth, the corner of his lips to be exact. And his lips were soft against hers, warm. Someone with the name Snow shouldn’t have to be so fucking warm.

He turns to stone for a split second, calculating her actions and why she did them, she thinks with dread growing in the pit of her stomach. Maybe he had seen behind her façade and would kill her right away— suddenly he lunges at her, his hands grabbing her jaw and neck like he is about to smash his forehead against her head violently and aggressively, maybe breaking her skull against the white wall behind the bed painting them red with her soft and red insides…but he kisses her. His thumb goes to her cheek, feeling up and then pressing the line where her teeth would be closed, and he makes her mouth slightly open for him. It easily opens with how caught off guard she was.

It’s like he is breathing her in through his mouth for a second before he devours her.

Oh. Oh. This was happening. Really happening.

After some seconds, she tries to at least mimic him, his tongue licks the top of her mouth and she tries to push his tongue against hers instead, her hands going to grip his shirt for some stability. She didn’t know how to act now, she was losing her advantage, her calm and collected self, and he was slowly peeling off her armour.

His hand caresses her neck, and she shivers, he is sure to notice this as he gives a breathy laugh against her mouth, and she flushes more. Did he know she was inexperienced? Was he mocking her? Her shame-filled mind didn’t let her finish her train of thought as he continued with his advances. His other hand takes this chance to feel her up better, pushing against the softness of her chest and her heartbeat goes faster, her eyes wider. Were they…? No, he wouldn't— He closes his hand around her breast, a groan of his going straight to her core and she trembles. No no no she can’t feel like this, not with him. Her racing mind makes her grip his shoulder, and her other hand pushes his chest a little, making him stop his actions altogether. He looks down at her with half-lidded eyes, his breathing fixing with hers.

“What’s wrong?” He says with a slightly raspier voice, his hand resting on her hip bone, finger instinctively drawing circled in her skin trying to soothe her and she hated it because it helped. She was wide-eyed with flushed skin and trembling body, her look deeply satisfying him, but of course, he wasn’t going to say anything that could make her run away from him like a scared small animal.

“Well— aren’t we…” She thinks over her words, “going too fast?” He arches an eyebrow at his, amusement dancing in his face, “You want to stop?” He looks into her eyes and then down at her trembling body, the hand resting on her neck moving down to hoover around her breast. “You seem,” He pauses a little, like he is tasting the words “very responsive” Her gaze looks at where he is looking and if she wasn’t flustered now she is, her nipples visible against her thin shirt, dammed chic and thin Capitol clothes that can even show the slight curve of bones and prickled flesh.

“…this is— a normal bodily reaction, nothing more” she mutters quickly, sniffing as her gaze looks away from him, she heard him hum and his warmth again in the softness of her skin, her hardened bud being once again teased with his thumb. She feels herself move at the sudden contact, her eyes going to him.

“There you go, no looking away— Victor” He drops his face closer to her chest, his warm breath hitting her clothed flesh, and she stirs a breath at the picture. His slick hair perfectly placed as his mouth rounds the plush of her breast, lips slightly glistening with both of their saliva mixed together. She gulps a noise that threatens to come out and as she feels his tongue roll against her bud, her hand goes to his hair, trying to pull his away from her too sensitive skin.

His hands go to the end of her shirt and pull it up, making a temporary barrier for her hands so he can mouth her again, this time as his wet muscle makes contact with her nipple a breathy gasp escapes her mouth. Her hand puts the thin shirt out of her vision, his hand already taking care of the other bud of nerves, and her hand goes once again to his hair. As she slightly pulls it he groans, biting her and groaning a warning, not enough to inflict pain but enough to get a whine out of her throat.

“Shit—” Her hand eases on his hair, only pulling him against her as he takes his mouth away from her nipple, going to the other. He mouths against her with a moan and her thighs close together, he must have noticed this because one hand moves to her thighs, getting his hand between them.

“We aren’t stopping,” He groaned as the inside of his hand palms her through her panties, wet from arousal “fuck…” Her eyes shot to his, shocked to hear someone so collected with his words curse “so wet already” She was sure she could hear a smirk in his words, but he was moving his lips against her skin, his face hidden as he kept her trembling with his mouth and hands. He was meticulous with this like he had all of this planned, her mind didn’t let her think much however, analyse what was happening, her eyes focusing on his pale and shiny hair and moving down and down on her.

“I can’t stay,” She says with a tremble to her voice as she feels his hardened length against her thigh, her voice trembling as she feels the hardness much bigger and thicker than she anticipated. “I will be going back to my District—” Her heart was fast like she was running in the Arena again. This was something she knew if they continued, he wouldn’t let her go, she could see it in his eyes. She wanted to belong, to be part of yes, but the way he looked at her was like…she was a part of himself, like something that was already his and it scared her. It scared her thinking of losing the little freedom she had, the little freedom any District person had. It scared her to not being able to see her family. But what scared her more than anything was that thinking about it, actually putting her mind to it, she didn’t mind it much.

It scared her, she didn’t mind being owned if this was going to be her life. She wouldn’t starve, she didn’t need to provide for her family, he would take care of them. Taking care of everything that it was her responsibility her whole life. She quickly understood that…

Being owed would be much easier than being free.

And even if the idea was fucked up, and she knew it was, it was still the truth. She was scared about this kind of relationship, not of him she knew he wouldn’t hurt her(right?) but how far he would…well, go for anything if needed.

His hand gripped her thighs as his chin rested on one of her knees, his piercing blue eyes looking up at her with amusement.

“We both know you already made up your mind,” His blunt nails pressed against her skin, surely marking her with crescent moons.

“The moment I got to read your file, actually see you…I knew you were meant to be mine” That was…before the games were even over? Before the games themselves started. Her eyebrows furrow down at him, and he gives her a half smile, “How popular were you during the games, do you remember?” He mumbles as his hands rest on the mattress under her, on the side of her hips. “Not very, you didn’t perform, didn’t talk much.” He continues with his words as he slowly comes up to her face like a predator closing on their prey. “You kept to yourself to strike and kill fast— not doing alliances…”

“How do you think you got water from sponsors? The medicine and…your well-beloved and helpful small knife?” A chill runs down her spine as she looks at him with new information given to her “The knife was the most expensive thing since it was actually ‘illegal’ to send the tributes something something like that” His lips touch hers again and his knee goes between her legs, spreading them apart and getting them between him. “Did you know that?” He muses with calculating eyes, the mental breakdown he had was long forgotten like it never happened and Snow was looking at her, his prize.

“Now,” His eyes darken with still hidden information he has yet to give. “won’t you thank your sponsor?” He breathes against her lips with his eyes looking straight at her, his knee rubbing her clothed sex.

#coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #dark!coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas x you #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #tbosas #the hunger games #thg x reader

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absurdthirst · 5 months

Text

White Christmas {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.8k

Warnings: Post apocalypse setting, threats of violence, technically forced entry, survival, mentions of family death, virgin reader, Reader celebrates Christmas, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, loss of innocence, fingering, somnophilia, Joel's a little horny, cum play, pull out method of birth control, face sitting, 69, anal play, slight angst

Comments: Finding a cabin right before a winter storm blows in seems like a gift. Finding it occupied with you - a Christmas celebrating virginal survivor, is Joel's own Christmas gift. Providing safety and security in and out of your bed and giving Ellie the Christmas she had always dreamed of.

A/N: Merry Christmas belatedly!!! Charlie and I meant to have this finished by Christmas Day but life and family got in the way. But it's finally here! Cheers!

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The temperature is dropping again, the chill making Ellie shiver as she pulls her jacket closer and follows behind Joel. There’s a heaviness to the air, it feels almost wet and Joel told her that meant it would snow today. They need to find a cave, a dilapidated building, something, and she wouldn’t complain about a fucking fire to thaw out her frozen fingers. “Joel-“

“I’m fucking working on it.” His tone is annoyed and she bites her lip. She hadn’t been about to complain, but he seems to think she is.”

“No, do you smell that?” She demands, sniffing the air loudly. There’s the scent of a fire in the air. Someone has to be nearby.

Joel frowns, squinting as he tries to look into the distance. His eyes aren’t the same as they used to be. He fucking hates getting old. Sometimes, when his body aches and he misses Sarah too much, his mind goes back to that dark place that’s memorialized on his face. He grunts, “come on kid. Let’s see what it is. Probably assholes who want to kill us but let’s see.” He snorts and Ellie chuckles, knowing how hard life is in the wilderness. The only person she trusts is Joel. He leads the way through the snow until your cabin comes up in the distance.

Joel tightens his grip on the rifle and looks around carefully, aware that the area might be booby trapped or there might be some guards. The place looks too neat to be someone holed up for the coming weather. This is obviously someone’s home. “Fuck.” The first flurries start to fall as the wind picks up and there’s nowhere else to put Ellie. He’s just going to have to make sure that he gets the upper hand when surprising whoever is inside and hold them at gunpoint until the coming winter storm is over. “Stay close.”

Ellie nods, watching Joel as he walks towards the cabin, and she shivers when the snow hits her face. He’s exhausted, clearly needing to rest, and so does she. You don’t notice his approach, too busy humming a Christmas carol as you putter around the cabin that’s been in your family for a hundred years. You smile as the pine smell fills the air, the fire crackling. You don’t hear the slight jiggle of the locked door until it’s flinging open and a man holding a rifle strides in. “Get down!” He yells and you scream as you do as he says, laying down on the floor. Joel immediately comes over to pat you down, wanting to make sure you’re not armed. “Anyone else here?” He asks, standing up and swinging his body around to see if there’s another person in the cabin with you.

“Don’t- no! Please don’t- don’t hurt me!” You curse yourself for not putting the bar on the door but you had been expecting to bring in another few loads of firewood. “Please, I-“ you know that you are in very real danger, it’s not like you’ve been isolated from what the world has become, even if you’ve managed better than most. “Don’t- don’t hurt me.”

Joel growls as you don’t answer his question and he smacks his rifle down on the floor next to your face. “Are you alone?” He shouts out at you and you shake. “Are. You. Alone!” He yells.

“Yes. Yes. I’m alone!” You cry and he stands straight, deciding to go through the house to make sure no one is hiding. “Ellie!” He shouts, calling the teenager in. “Aim your gun at her. She moves. You shoot.” He commands and goes around the cabin, opening every door and cupboard to make sure you’re alone once Ellie has her gun aimed at you.

You are shaking, only slightly relieved when the girl shows up. Somehow hoping that because there’s a younger girl, that some of the evils that could be visited on you, won’t be. “I - there’s no one else here.” You promise quietly.

“He won’t hurt you.” The girl murmurs. “Not unless you try to hurt us.” Huffing quietly, you listen as this dangerous man shuffles through your cabin, your home.

“You broke into my house, not the other way around.”

Joel comes back after realizing that you are indeed alone and he’s shocked. A woman in a cabin all alone. Something he hasn’t come across. “Stand up.” He orders, reaching down to grab your forearm and he practically drags you over to the chair at the dining table. “Ellie. Rope.” He demands, needing the rope from her backpack to tie you up. He doesn’t trust anyone. “No one coming back here?” He asks, wanting to know that there’s not an army of men coming back to this place.

“I- no, I’ve been alone for two years.” You admit, hating that fact. People don’t come here and you had burned and buried the last member of your family before the snow two winters ago. “Please, take what you want and - are you hungry? I have some stew, take it. Just- just don’t kill me….or worse.”

That makes Joel pause. You’re more scared of what he could do to you than being killed. That makes him feel sick. He never wants to be that kind of man in this horrifying new world. He swallows harshly and lowers his rifle from your face. “I ain’t gonna kill you.” He promises.

You bite your lip, trying not to show how scared you are. It’s not that you’re weak, you’ve survived the outbreak and the past twenty years since, but now you’re all alone. “Why are you- what do you want?” You manage. “Just take what you need.”

“We need a place to stay. Storm is coming. We can’t keep traveling in the wilderness without dying of frostbite. We need to stay here. You gonna let us?” It’s a rhetorical question but Joel is a gentleman enough to make it seem like you have a choice.

“You didn’t have to shove a gun in my face for a place to stay.” You frown. “All you had to do was ask. I’m not- you have a kid. What kind of monster would leave you two outside during a blizzard?”

Joel feels a little embarrassed now that he went so extreme but he is used to the dangers of this new world. “I’m sorry but I couldn’t take a chance. The kid- we have been used to some bad people.” He confesses, “I didn’t - I’m sorry.” He says, deciding to untie you just as Ellie says “you decorate for Christmas?” She asks, noticing the garlands and baubles placed around the cabin.

You’re confused by the turn of events but nod as the man starts to untie you. “I did.” You confess. “My Christmas tree is on the back porch. I was planning on decorating it after getting some more wood. Before the storm got too bad. It’s silly, but it makes me happy.” You shrug slightly, knowing how ridiculous it sounds.

“It’s Christmas.” Joel murmurs, remembering the holidays he spent with Sarah. He didn’t even know what month it was, let alone what day.

“It’s so pretty.” Ellie coos, eyes wide at the bright colors and decorations you have clearly maintained since before the outbreak.

“How do you know it’s December?” He asks out of curiosity. He only knows seasons.

“I’ve kept track.” You admit with a small shrug. “My dad had one of those organizers that had calendars for fifty years.” You snort, shaking your head. “We started making sure we kept track after the outbreak.”

Joel is equally impressed and peeved. Why would you keep track of the date when the fucking world ended? He doesn’t understand it. It’s all about survival. He glances around at the nostalgia. “I can’t - where’s the stew?” He asks, knowing that Ellie must be starving.

“It’s- the stove.” You nod towards the rustic kitchen. At the time, it had been considered quaint to have a wood burning stove and a water pump in the kitchen instead of the modern conveniences, but it had proven to be the best possible thing when the electricity went out. “It’s- I’ll fix you some bowls.” You promise, slowly standing up and watching him warily. “Warm yourselves. There’s a bathroom down the hall if you need to use it.”

Joel knows Ellie will want the bathroom. “You can go.” He tells her and she looks at him with gratitude before rushing down the hall. He watches you as you grab two bowls and pour the stew into it. He can’t believe you’re alone. Most women on their own…well, it’s a cruel world and all the women’s rights that were so hard fought went out the window when the pricks who were against them took over again with the new world. Joel is certain that you’re capable. You have to be if you’re still out here after so long in this small piece of paradise in the middle of nowhere. “So…you grew up here?” He asks, curious about you.

“I did.” You carefully ladle the hot stew and add a few of the coarse ground crispy corn bread rounds that you had fried up to go with it. Looking up at him to find him watching you closely. “I’m not going to poison you.” You promise. “You don’t hurt me and I’ll be happy to have guests for Christmas.”

Joel watches you for another second before he sits down, deciding to trust you but not enough to set his gun down away from him. When you set the stew down, he can’t help but groan softly. “Sorry. We, uh, we haven’t eaten for a few days.” He admits quietly, averting his eyes when you look at him in understanding.

“There’s plenty.” You murmur softly and move back over to the kitchen to get him and his daughter something to drink. “I’ve been lucky growing and canning vegetables. And I had just finished processing the deer I shot a couple of days ago.”

Joel is impressed but he doesn’t let that show as he watches you as you move around the kitchen. Ellie comes back a few moments later and her eyes widen at the hot food. “Holy shit this place is amazing.” She gasps before she sits down and starts to dig into the food.

“Manners.” Joel reprimands her, shaking his head until he looks at you. “Sorry. She’s feral.”

You laugh and wave off his apology. “It’s good to know some things haven’t changed since the world went to shit.” You tell him, setting down glasses of water. “Later on, if you want, we can heat up some water for a hot bath. It’s probably been awhile?”

Ellie nods, opening her mouth with food in it. “Swallow first.” Joel reminds her and she dramatically swallows her food.

“I would love a bath. Jesus, this place is incredible. How the hell haven’t you been killed?” She asks you, wondering if you’re some kind of super woman to have kept this place safe.

You snort and shrug. “It’s remote.” You remind her. “Not a lot of people come this way. Winter is too harsh. And when I’m not being surprised, I’m a damn good shot.” You glance towards Joel and then look back at his daughter. “I’m just living the way my ancestors did, I guess.”

Joel hums before he takes a bite of the stew, groaning at the taste after not eating for a few days. “Fuck this is good.” He says and Ellie nudges him, “manners, old man.” She says playfully and he rolls his eyes.

“So where are you heading?” You ask and Joel swallows, reluctant to tell you his plans.

“We are heading west. Trying to find my brother.” He says vaguely.

A gust of wind pushes against the cabin and you look outside. The sun is fading fast. “I understand.” You tell him, knowing that most are reluctant to reveal information. “But you will be stuck here for a few days at least. The storm is going to be bad.” Walking over to the coat rack, you pick up a heavy sheepskin coat. “I have to latch the shutters and bring in more wood.” You tell them. “Eat.”

Joel is cautious but doesn’t react as you head off to secure the cabin. “You can relax. She doesn’t seem like the type to stab you in your sleep.” Ellie says and Joel tuts, turning to face her.

“You should never trust anyone. Especially someone you underestimate.” He tells her, knowing he learned his lesson about that.

Outside, you scold yourself. “Fucking idiot, they could lock you out.” You huff, realizing your mistake as soon as the door closed behind you. “Then you’ll freeze to death.” You can’t go back inside and demand they come with you, and the temperature is falling faster than the snow. Making you shiver as you hustle around the cabin, snapping the shutters closed and latching them together to protect the windows and insulate the cabin more.

Joel doesn’t say anything until the door opens and his hand grips his rifle, ready for anything to happen. When you enter alone, shivering, he relaxes and lets go of his weapon. You set the logs down and he releases the tension from his body. You notice and he sighs, “I’m not - it’s not you.” He says, wanting you to know it’s not that he thinks you’re bad, he’s just developed habits.

“I should probably get another few armfuls.” You tell him. “The wind is starting to pick up and I’d rather not have to use the guide rope.”

“I can help.” He offers, standing up from the table. You hesitate for a second before you nod and he follows you outside to where you store the logs. “You prepped all this by yourself?” He asks, impressed even if he doesn’t say it explicitly.

“It’s not easy.” You admit. “I try to chop wood all year. Every day to make sure that there is enough. And during the summer, I try not to burn much, just for cooking.” You start to stack wood up in your arms. “Worth it when I’m warm in my cabin.“

Joel reaches out to take the wood from you, knowing he’s vulnerable without his hands free but also wants to show you that he can help. “You are very capable.” He offers you an awkward compliment just before he clears his throat.

“Thanks.” You murmur back, eying him warily until you’re back in the cabin. You lock the door but don’t bar it in case you need an escape. “So…bath time?” You ask Ellie who nods eagerly.

“Have you had others come through here recently?” Joel asks once you’re heating up water.

“Not for a long time.” Your eyes slide away, looking towards the wall where you have pictures of your family hanging up to remember their faces. “Last time was about five years ago.”

“You’ve been on your own this entire time? How the fuck haven’t you gone crazy?” Ellie asks with wide eyes. “All alone? Jesus, I think I’d lose my mind.” She says and Joel doesn’t comment, knowing that he’d probably enjoy the solitude if he didn’t have Ellie.

“I had family up until two years ago.” You explain. “So I haven’t been alone that entire time; but work keeps me busy. And there’s always plenty of it.” You set a bucket into the sink and start to pump the water handle.

“Two years.” He murmurs, surprised that you’ve been able to be alone for so long but he knows Bill was alone for a long time until Frank came along. Survival is more important than company. He watches you pump the water and he works on building up the fire.

There’s something about having people around that makes you happy. Humming a Christmas carol to yourself as you move the bucket onto the stove and open the burner to let it boil. “I should make some hot chocolate on Christmas Eve.” You hum to yourself. There’s still some left that had been dry sealed and you only make a cup on special occasions. Perhaps it would be something that the girl has never had before.

“Fuck yes. I’ve never had hot chocolate.” Ellie confesses and Joel raises his eyebrows at her in warning. Ellie watches you with curiosity. You seem like a glimpse into what the world was like before the outbreak and she loves it as you hum something she’s never heard before.

“I haven’t heard that song in…well, since before.” Joel confesses, amazed that you observe a holiday that is no longer relevant when it comes to this new world.

“Christmas was our favorite holiday as a family.” You admit. “I’ve got this crazy idea that if I continue to celebrate, then they aren’t really gone. You know?” You shrug, knowing how insane it sounds, but maybe you are a little crazy.

Joel doesn't understand that kind of mentality. For him, he tries to forget about those times. For a second, he glances at the tree you had brought in and remembers decorating one with Sarah year after year. How she'd tell him off for putting too many of the same baubles in the same area. Bossy like her mother. He shakes his head slightly to clear the memories and focuses back on you. "And you've never had anyone stay with you that wasn't family?" Joel asks, curious if you had someone at some point. You are beautiful, even he can see that, and he's certain that most men would've killed for a chance to stay here with you.

You smile wistfully and shake your head. “Never really had that opportunity.” You know what he’s really asking and you shrug before you get another pot of water to temper to boiling in the bath. “The few that have come have been groups. Passing through or seeking shelter for a time. No one stayed.”

Joel nods, surprised that no one has taken advantage of you. The world is harsh and you’re lucky to have gotten away with your life so far. “Do you have a razor? I need to shave.” Joel says, reaching up to scratch the heavy beard he’s grown during the travels in the wilderness.

“I’ve got a razor.” You motion for him to follow you to the bedroom that you had taken for yourself two years ago, because it has a fireplace. “My father was about your size.” You tell him. “The closet dresser still has his things, he’d want them to be out to good use.” You reach for the shaving cup and straight razor he had used your entire life, preferring it over the ones with cartridges.

Joel nods his appreciation, glad that you have some spare clothes. The ones he is wearing are practically threadbare now with holes in them. He walks back into the living room and looks over at Ellie, “go have your bath. I’m going to check the perimeter before it starts to storm.” Joel says, grabbing his gun and he trusts you with Ellie for some reason.

“Soooooo.” Ellie looks around and then back at you. “You don’t mind that we are here, right? Joel really needs to rest and maybe he can get some during the storm.”

You tilt your head curiously. “Do you always call your dad by his name?” You ask, wondering if the outbreak had changed those customs.

Ellie shakes her head and laughs. “My dad? He’s not my dad.” She declares and your eyes widen, suddenly tense. “And it’s not like that either. He saved me and I- I guess you could say he unofficially adopted me and now he’s stuck with me.” She explains and giggles, “he’s a miserable bastard but he has a good heart. You can trust him. He won’t hurt you.” She promises, “unless you give him a reason to.”

You relax slightly and nod. “I think you two are more of a threat to me at this point.” You point out. “But why don’t we just enjoy the fact that we are cozy and warm.” You click your tongue. “I think I have some clothes that might fit you too. From when I was younger.”

Ellie nods, “gee. This is - you’re like the best place we could’ve found.” She says and stands up. “Thanks for all of this.” Ellie tells you and you smile, “it’s nice to have the company.” She disappears down the hall. Joel comes back an hour later, surveying the area and checking the cabin for any weak points in case the storm gets bad. He doesn’t want to get ambushed during the storm. Old habits die hard.

“You have to be cold.” You huff, closing the door behind him and locking a thick piece of wood into hooks sunk into the walls of the cabin. It keeps the door secure against bear and man, even the wind won’t rattle it. “Go stand by the fire, get warm.”

Joel shakes slightly as he shuffles over to the fire, rubbing his hands to warm them over the flames. "Where's Ellie?" He asks and you tell him she's having a bath. He envies her a little as he shivers but the kid will be happy to be clean. "The perimeter is clear. Checked to make sure we have enough clearance in case someone decides to sneak up." He tells you, having learned some things from Bill.

You decide to not mention they are the first in years to come here, instead you decide to pour Joel a cup of hot chamomile tea you had decided would be the perfect ending to an adventurous day. “I have a bit of whiskey or brandy left if you’d like it?” You offer, having pulled a few bottles up from your father’s collection in the cellar.

Joel nods, "that sounds good." He doesn't remember the last time he had whiskey...maybe the night before he left Boston with Tess and Ellie. Yes, that was the last time. When you set the bottle down on the table with a glass, he pours himself a small measure, not wanting to lose his senses when he's in a strange place. "You having one?" He asks, looking up at you.

You take that as suspicion on his part and shrug, reaching for the bottle. “Sure.” You pour a larger drink and then tip the bottle back to take a shot straight from the neck. “It’s not poisoned.”

Joel snorts softly, "I was askin' if you wanted one. Didn't think you'd poison me like a goddamn black widow." He smirks and shakes his head before he downs the shot of whiskey.

You chuckle dryly. “Hard to be a black widow when you’re me.” You tell him, sitting down and staring at your tea cup. “Sheltered. That would be the word, I guess.”

Joel can tell you've been sheltered, not as jaded by life like he has been. "So does that mean you've never...?" He trails off, not wanting to fully ask before he remembers himself. "Sorry. That was over the line."

“Honestly? It’s kind of nice to be asked questions.” You admit, not exactly being embarrassed by your life, or lack thereof. “Didn’t exactly attract a lot of boys when I was younger.” You tell him. “Guess I was kind of the Ugly Duckling. It’s sheer fucking luck I was home visiting for the weekend from college when the world turned to shit.” You shiver slightly, not even wanting to imagine how bad it would be if you had been in the city. “And I was surrounded by family. So….no, I’ve never had sex.”

Joel nods, surprised and not surprised at your answer. It’s obvious you’ve been alone but you’re a beautiful woman who should’ve been worshiped by now. “That’s a real shame. I bet you look gorgeous when you orgasm.” Joel says bluntly, not one for mincing his words.

Your eyes widen and you look towards the closed bathroom door where Ellie is still soaking in her hot bath. “I-“ the man in front of you is handsome, rough and rugged like the men you had grown up around. He’s obviously capable and he must have a tender side if he’s caring for a young girl who isn’t related to him. You’re literally a forty year old virgin, and who knows when you’d ever have another opportunity? “Do you want to sleep with me?” You ask just as bluntly.

Joel raises his eyebrows in surprise at your bluntness and he glances behind you to the door where Ellie is. “Tonight. After she’s asleep.” He says, cock twitching at the thought of touching you, of taking your innocence. He knows it’s wrong. You should have a dinner date with flowers and chocolates and all that shit but fuck, he wants to see you fall apart. It’s been so long since he lost himself like that, not since Tess, and he needs to let go for just one night.

Swallowing harshly, you nod. “After she gets out, you can clean up too.” You would prefer to have your first time to be a good experience. “Then I’ll clean up as well.”

Joel nods, remaining silent as he thinks about touching you, making you moan. He doesn’t know you but he knows he wants to make you cry out in pleasure. He wants to lose himself in the act of sex. His mind has been so focused on survival, he wants to forget for a while.

Soon enough, your drinks are finished and you have cleaned up the kitchen from their meal. You had eaten while Joel was gone and you add some more wood to the fire. The light from the flames fills the space and the stove keeps the bedrooms warm on the other side of that wall. It might be a bit much to keep both going, but the temperature is falling fast and you want to keep the house warm since you have guests. “I should start warming more water.”

Joel can tell you are nervous and he works on getting cleaned up after Ellie is done and you heat up the water again. He groans as he sits in the bath, itching his beard and he sees the scissors and razor on the side. He looks down at his crotch and figures that could use a trim up too since this is your first time. He wants to make a good impression.

While Joel is in the bath, you settle Ellie down into the other bedroom. “Joel will want to sleep on the couch.” She tells you, flopping down on the bed with a sigh. “So I’ll just sleep here.” You chuckle quietly, knowing that he would probably be in your bed. “He’ll have plenty of choices on where to rest.” You promise and grin. “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Since there’s snow, we’ll make some candy, how does that sound? To go with the hot chocolate?”

“Hell to the fuck yes.” Ellie nods rapidly, unable to believe she’s wearing pajamas for the first time in…well, ever. “This place is fucking awesome.” She grins before she yawns, “thanks for letting us stay.”

“Despite what others might do, I think it would have been inhuman to let you stay outside.” You shake your head. “Besides, it will be nice to have company for Christmas.”

Ellie smiles, appreciative and glad you’re so kind. A rare bird in this world she’s grown up in. “Thanks. Joel will be nice to you.” She promises, “and if he isn’t, I’ll make him be.” She smirks and settles into the bed.

You grin and shake your head. “The sheets are fresh and the room stays warm from the stove.” You promise. “Good night, Ellie” She had told you her name while Joel was gone and the girl bids you goodnight as you close her bedroom door.

Joel stands up and dries himself with the towel, deciding to not bother dressing as he keeps it wrapped around his waist while he trims his beard and shaves it back into the mustache of his younger years. When he's clean and ready, he exits the bathroom and enters what he assumes is your bedroom. He finds you standing there, adjusting the pillows, and he offers you a rare smile. "All clean." He says to announce his presence.

“Oh, uh, I better clean up too.” You bite your lip. “Do you- um, I don’t know, do you want me to shave? Bare? I mean I keep my-uh, hair tidy, but what’s the preference for cunt hair after the apocalypse?” You ramble nervously.

Joel snorts, "baby, it's your choice. I don't mind exploring a jungle or you can shave. I ain't fussy. It's the end of the world." He chuckles and shifts to sit down on the end of the bed.

You laugh quietly, shaking your head at your nerves. “Okay, I’ll- I’ll be quick,” you promise, rushing over to your underwear drawer and pulling out a lingerie set that never saw any use since you bought it the week before the world ended.

Joel finds your nerves endearing and he watches you rush around your room until you disappear down the hall to the bathroom. The fire is roaring and Joel takes a moment to imagine that the world didn’t end. That he met you in a bar and you decided to take him home.

In the bathroom, there’s still a bucket of warm water and you make sure you scrub every inch of your body, sure that he’s not fussed but you want to pretend like this happened organically. He’s attractive and someone you would have crushed on in college, even if he is a little older looking than you.

Joel licks his lips, his stomach twisting as he thinks about how strange life can be. One minute he’s out freezing in the wilderness and not sure if he’s gonna survive. The next, he’s preparing to take a woman’s innocence in her cabin that’s like a haven in the middle of nowhere. When the door opens again, he takes a second to inhale deeply before he looks at you. That breath is knocked from him when he sees you standing there dolled up in silk and lace. “I- wow. You look - wow.” He chokes pathetically, his cock twitching under the towel.

“I know it’s stupid.” You feel foolish for putting on the trappings of another time, another social expectation. “But I- I wanted to feel like this is normal. We are normal.” You step forward and devour the sight of him on your bed. “I’m not expecting words or emotions. I just wanted to pretend this was not desperation on both of our parts.”

Joel shakes his head, “it’s not desperation. It’s a connection. The need to feel something other than desire to survive. I want you. Thought you were gorgeous from the moment I saw you. Let me make you feel good. You’ve been alone for so long, you gotta be touch starved. Tell me what you need, sweetheart.” He says, standing up to walk towards you but stopping before he touches you.

You lick your lips, feeling wet because of his words. “Drop your towel.” You order softly. You’ve seen a naked man before, but you want to see this one, the one who will finally touch you like you’ve dreamed of. “I don’t know what I need, but I want you to touch me. Make me think of nothing but you.”

Joel doesn’t deny you. You deserve more than what he can give you but he can at least offer you his body. He drops the towel, his cock half hard as he stands before you and his dark eyes drop to your lips. “Can I kiss you?” He asks gently.

“Yes.” You whisper, eyes trailing up and down his body. He's not exactly hard, but he’s also not soft. Weathered, and experienced would be the words you would use to describe how he looks. Reaching out, you brush your fingers over his hot skin, resisting the urge to moan.

Joel closes his eyes briefly as you touch him with soft hands. He shuffles closer and reaches out to cup your cheek, leaning forward until he’s pressing his lips against yours. “Fuck.” He murmurs when you whimper into his mouth and he deepens the kiss, tilting your head so he can taste more of you.

This man, the same one who had threatened your life and tied you to a chair, completely consumes you. Taking control of the kiss and making you forget your hands are even on his chest as his tongue sweeps into your mouth and makes you moan.

He cups your other cheek, pressing close until his body is completely against yours. His tongue sliding against yours and you’re a little clumsy but so is he. It’s been a while since he kissed someone like this. His hands slide down from your cheeks until he is caressing your back and finally, his hands squeeze your ass.

Your eyes open and you hum into his mouth when his hands find your ass. Unable to believe that the simple squeeze feels so good. “Fuck.” You gasp when he pulls back to breathe.

You’re so reactionary already and that makes Joel harden, imagining the noises he can get out of you when he’s inside of you. He groans softly and kisses down your throat while you catch your breath, his hands kneading your flesh.

“Can I- can I touch you?” You ask, emboldened by his groan of permission. Your hands map hot skin, scars and you feel him shiver as they drift lower. Groaning yourself when your fingers wrap around his hard cock.

Joel’s breath hitches. It’s been so long since someone has touched him, since he allowed his mind to relax. “Baby.” He murmurs, his hands sliding up your back to the clasp of your bra. He undoes it and you let go of his cock so he can drag it off of your body. “Shit. Look at you.” He murmurs, tossing the bra down so he can cup your tits.

There’s something that is so raw about someone else’s hands on your body. The feeling is so different from your own. He throb when you squeeze him and it’s amazing how the book descriptions have it right. Velvet over steel. His cocks skin is so soft and warm, the hardness underneath such a contrast. “Can I-“ you pull away and start to sink down to your knees. “I want to-”

Joel swallows, his stomach twisting. “You don’t have to. This should be about you.” He says, “this is about making you feel good.” He shakes his head, “you don’t - this is - you don’t have to.” He repeats, not wanting to be selfish.

“I want to.” You confess, your cheeks hot with both desire and embarrassment. “If this is the only chance I have, I want to do it all.” You tell him, looking up and wrapping your fingers around his cock again.

Joel nods, unable to deny you when you ask him like that. He wants this to be all about you and even if what you want is to suck his cock. You kneel down before him and he swallows harshly as you look up at him with wide and innocent eyes.

He doesn’t rush you and you’re thankful for that. Obviously circumcised, the head of his cock is beautifully flushed and beading a clear liquid. “Tell me if I do it wrong.” You order before you lean forward and press the tip of your tongue to the slit.

Joel hisses, watching you as you close your eyes and take the head into your mouth. It’s more than he can take but he inhales deeply and calms down so he doesn’t ruin this for you. “Fuck baby.” He murmurs, opening his eyes to watch you.

You think that you’re doing it right from the way that Joel’s voice drops, hitting you in the pit of your stomach and you swear your cunt is dripping onto the floor. You hum, enjoying the clean taste and surprising saltiness of the pre-cum. Squeezing the base and keeping yourself from going too far and gagging.

Joel caresses your head, allowing you to take your time as you explore him. Your innocence is obvious but he likes it. You are doing this for yourself and he likes that you aren’t acting. Some girls used to make a show about sucking his cock and then complain they didn’t want to do it.

You appreciate that he will let you take your time. Slowly feeling what he likes, what makes him groan. You hollow your cheeks and push him a little deeper, until you feel your throat close and your eyes water as you look up at him.

“Jesus.” Joel hisses as you take him deeper. A tear slides down your cheek and he quickly wipes it away. “Baby. Don’t push yourself. Take your time. Feels so good.” He murmurs, wanting you to know that he’s enjoying this.

Your lips stretch around his cock in a smile and you swallow around him, enjoying the way he moans when you do. This is something that you had thought would just be for the experience, but you love it. Especially when his knees buckle slightly and his hand on your head flexes in pleasure.

“Baby. Let me - you need to- shit. I need - stop.” He chokes, not wanting to cum. It’s been way too long since he jerked off, unable to sneak off and leave Ellie alone even while she slept. He doesn’t want this to be over before he even gets to be inside of you.

“Are you sure?” You pout slightly, wiping your chin and looking up at him. You’re out of breath, your cunt aching and all you want is to see this man cum.

Joel nods, dragging you up and he surges down to meet you to press his lips to yours. Turning you, he walks you back towards the bed. He presses you down onto it, his lips trailing along your jaw as he straddles you.

You gasp and are taken by the dominance in the motion. This is a man who can be so damn sure of himself and capable. Your hands slide over his chest and around his sides to stroke his back as he nuzzles and kisses your pulse. “Joel.” You moan softly, as if he were an old lover.

He twitches at your moan, loving how his name sounds coming from your lips. He wants to hear more of it. He continues kissing down your body, his tongue sliding along your collarbone before he ducks down to take your nipple in his mouth after he cups your tit and tilts it up for him.

You had never imagined it would feel so good, your thighs pressing against his hips when he’s between them. Keeping you open as he circles your nipple with his tongue and scraps his teeth over it.

Joel takes his time, sucking and biting your nipple until it's puffy from his manipulations. He groans and switches to the other breast, his calloused hands squeezing both as he slowly grinds against you.

His cock is throbbing against your thigh, leaking and hot. Making. You whimper with pleasure as you imagine him inside you. There’s no fear, no hesitation. Not when he could be rough and quick and he’s taking the time to make you feel so good. “Joel.”

He groans as he releases your nipple, kissing down your sternum and he flicks his tongue into your belly button as he lays between your thighs. His dark eyes meet yours as he pushes them back to get a good look at your cunt. “Jesus. Such a pretty pussy.” He murmurs, his fingers sliding through your folds until he spreads them with his thumbs. Leaning in, his eyes focus on you as he flicks his tongue over your clit.

You gasp out a sound, half inhuman as you experience his tongue against your sex. Hot and wet, he’s not timid as he tastes you. This is a man who doesn’t mind getting dirty and diving into things, just like he’s proving with your cunt. Eyes wide, they are fixed on the man between your legs.

Joel groans as he laps at your cunt until he is pushing his tongue into you. Curling it and pushing your legs back so he can get deeper. Fuck, you taste amazing and he groans as you moan softly. He wants to make this good for you so he focuses on your clit, his hand sliding along your thigh until he's pushing a finger into you.

“Oh god.” You whine, your walls clenching down around his finger. “You- your fingers are thicker than mine.” Just one finger is stretching you out like you aren’t used to, or maybe it’s just because it’s not your finger but someone else’s. He presses deeper and you hiss in pleasure when he finds a spot deep inside you.

Joel loves the way you whine, glad he’s not hurting you, and he pumps his finger a few times before he adds another, wanting to stretch you out to take his cock. He’s girthy and he doesn’t want to hurt you in any way.

“Oh fuck.” You moan quietly. “Where have you been for the past twenty years?” You could have used him in your bed, to be your companion in this decidedly lonely life. “Fuck baby.”

“Survivin’” He answers honestly against your clit as he curls his fingers, scissoring them to stretch you out, and he loves the way you gush around his digits, getting closer to your orgasm. He wants you to cum like this for him.

“Yeah.” You nod and understand what he means. Closing your eyes and letting him push you towards an orgasm. The first one that you’ve ever experienced from someone else. “Joel.” You gasp, your thighs pressing against his broad shoulders and your hips push down. “Gonna- fuck, gonna cum!”

Joel grunts, loving the way you squirm beneath him and rock onto his fingers. He keeps the same pace until you are squealing, soaking his fingers with your orgasm and he’s so proud. He is glad you came so hard and he can tell you enjoyed it.

Your thighs are trembling and you’re breathing as hard as you did the night you had chopped down one of the big trees to let it cure. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” You can’t help but giggle a little, looking down at the man who is staring up at you with his chin on your inner hip. “That was….i have no words.”

Joel is pleased that you enjoyed it. He leans in to press his lips to your skin, kissing along your hip. You deserve some tenderness and he is happy to give it to you. He shifts to kiss up your body until he’s hovering above you. “You still want me inside of you?” He asks, wanting to make sure you still want him.

“All I want for Christmas is you.” You manage to tease breathlessly, reaching up and caressing his cheek. “Just- be gentle?” You ask, suddenly nervous about the thick cock that is throbbing against your belly. He feels like he could just cum against your skin right now if he rocked his hips a few times.

He chuckles softly, leaning in to kiss along your jaw. “You tell me if anything hurts and if you don’t like it.” He demands quietly, his dark eyes meeting yours and he caresses your thigh, lifting it up on his hip so he can reach down to grip his cock. “You ready?”

“Been waiting all my life, Joel.” You roll your hips down and moan when you feel his cock pressing against your cunt. “Better make it worth the wait.” It feels good to tease, to make it lighthearted. You know he won’t stay, so there’s no entanglements here.

He likes that you don’t want him to offer you sweet words and endearments when this isn’t that kind of experience. He wants it to be good for you. He positions himself at your entrance and slowly, so slowly, starts to push into you.

The feeling is so foreign, so overwhelming that your mouth drops open on a low moan. Fingers curling around his shoulders, nails biting into his skin lightly as your entire body quivers. “Fuuuuuuck.” You whine, hating that it’s taken so long to experience this.

Joel keeps his eyes focused on you, on your reactions. He doesn’t want to hurt you in any way. You shake beneath him and he slowly rocks into you, opening you up inch by inch on his cock. “You okay?” He rasps, trying to control himself. It’s been too long since he was inside of a woman and you’re unbelievably tight.

“Fucking amazing….” You moan, caressing his back and staring up at him in wonder. “It’s so, I’m so full.” You whimper, “move baby, I want to feel more.”

Joel isn’t even all the way in yet and you’re looking at him like he hung the moon. He pushes the final inch inside and your nails bite into his back. “Tell me if anything hurts.” He demands before he slowly starts to pull back, his eyes fixed on your face as he pulls out until only the tip remains before he’s pushing back into you.

“Jooooooelllllll.” You practically wail his name when his hips snap forward and he slides into you to the hilt with a delicious pressure that has your thighs tightening. “Oh god, it’s so- so good.”

Your reactions have him gritting his teeth to control himself. You’re so lost in the sensation and your cunt is gripping him, wet and hot. “That’s it baby. That’s it. Good girl.” He murmurs, caressing your side.

“Is it- does it feel good for you?” You want to know that he’s enjoying it too. This isn’t just about you. “Does it- oh god,” your eyes roll back when he thrusts into you again. “Fuck.”

“So good.” Joel promises gruffly, “you’re so - Jesus. I haven’t felt like this in so long.” He admits, knowing that while Tess was good, she didn’t make him want to blow his load within seconds of being inside of her. There was no emotional weight, just raw physical need. This is heavier and he feels it in the way he thrusts into you, wanting you to enjoy every second of this.

You moan softly, stroking his back and reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. “Fuck, I would be addicted to you.” You confess, your walls clenching down around him tight.

Hearing you say what he was thinking has him thrusting a little harder. He leans down to kiss you, sliding his tongue into your mouth to swallow your moan, wanting to absorb everything you give him.

It helps, his kiss. Your moans are getting loud and you don’t want to wake Ellie, even if you’re sure she’s dead to the world. Wanting to keep this moment for just you and Joel as he rocks into you again and again.

He wants you to cum more than once on his cock tonight. He slides his hand between you to find your clit, rubbing it as he pushes into you.

“Oh god. Oh fuck, Joel.” Your eyes widen when he starts to rub your clit. Immediately clenching down around him again. He is amazing.

Joel needs you to cum for him. He wants to hear it, feel it, see it. He rubs your clit a little faster and adjusts his hips, wanting you to cum for him.

“Ohhhhh, oh god!” You cry out, throwing your head back and moaning when you start to cum. Body shaking under Joel’s in pleasure.

Joel groans as he feels you start to cum. Pressing his lips to yours to smother your cries in case you wake Ellie, he works you through it. Continuing to rub your clit and make you shake beneath him.

You pant against his lips, grabbing his hand when it becomes too much and drag it up to your breast. Wanting him to feel all of you, to leave not part of you untouched.

He squeezes your tit, his lips pressing against your jaw and he takes a moment to slow down, let you ride your orgasm. He wants another one from you before he pulls out to cum. He groans, “you’re so fucking beautiful. Beautiful and just - shit. So good.” He praises you, unused to being a man of many words but you deserve this considering how long you’ve waited for this moment.

Now that you have cum, you pull your legs back, wrapping them around his waist. “Let me- let me ride you.” You beg, wanting to feel what it’s like to sit on a cock and ride it. “Please, can I- I just want to feel it.”

Joel swallows, wanting to give you whatever you desire tonight. You deserve it. All of it. He nods and pulls out of you, shifting to lay down against your pillows. “Take what you want, baby.”

Biting your lip, you throw your leg over his hip and straddle him. “It looks bigger like this.” You admit, smirking slightly as you wrap your hand around him. “It’s supposed to feel bigger too, right? Feel deeper?

Joel nods, “yeah. Yeah it is. So I’ve heard.” He says, his hands sliding up to caress your waist until he’s cupping your tits. He squeezes them, pinching your nipples as you pump his cock.

“Oh fuck.” You moan, rolling your head back as he toys with your tits. “I want to feel you.” You murmur, lifting your hips and positioning him at your entrance before you slowly start lowering onto his cock.

Joel’s eyes flick down to where his cock is disappearing inside of you and he groans at the sight. “Baby, fuck.” He hisses and his eyes meet yours when your mouth falls open at the way he stretches you out.

There’s something intoxicating and empowering about being on top. About the man under you taking what you want and letting you have control. You have no doubt he could overpower you, force you to submit to him, but he squeezes your hip and your breast in encouragement.

He watches you as you take what you want, what you need. It's an honor to watch you discover what you like as you start to move on top of him. He swallows harshly, knowing that he will need to tell you he needs to pull out but right now, he's happy to watch you and be still beneath you while you use his body.

He does feel bigger from this position. Making your eyes roll back when you are settled on him fully. “Fuck, it’s like you’re in my stomach.” You whine, loving the sensation. “I love this. Fuck, does it feel good for you?” You ask as you roll your hips slowly.

Joel inhales deeply, trying to control himself as your walls flutter around his cock. You feel like a goddamn vice, squeezing him, and you haven’t even cum in this position. “It’s - Christ, it’s fucking incredible.” He promises, his hands squeezing your hips before they slide around to squeeze your ass.

You moan in pleasure and start to roll your hips faster. Feeling incredible every time you sit back down on his cock and moan out his name softly.

“That’s it, baby. Take what you need.” He murmurs, watching you take your pleasure and his cock twitches inside of you. “You feel so good. So fucking good.” He rasps, his brow furrowed as he concentrates on you.

You feel powerful, invincible as you ride him. Bracing your hands on his chest as you bounce on his cock, the bed creaking and swaying under you. “Fuck, baby.” You whimper, throwing your head back. “This is amazing, you’re amazing.”

Joel groans as you bounce a little faster. “You’re - shit - I need you to cum for me.” His hand slides down to rub your clit. “Cum for me baby.” He orders, surging up to wrap his lips around your nipple.

His arm is trapped between you, fingers furiously rubbing your clit while his mouth deliciously assaults your nipple. Making you cry out again when that knot of pressure explodes and the hot rush of your orgasm washes through you. “Joel!”

He works you through it, your hips stuttering from their previous rhythm and he loves the way you cry out into his ear, soaking his cock with your orgasm. “Baby. I need- I gotta pull out.” He chokes against your breast as he withdraws his fingers from your clit.

“Okay, fuck- let me-“ you don’t want to pull off his cock, but you have to. Obviously there’s no birth control and you’ve never been on it. Sliding your hips back, you watch as Joel quickly takes his cock in his hand and gives hard, quick tugs to the stiff length.

He grunts, eyes fixed on you as he works himself to his orgasm. It only takes a half dozen thrusts until he is pulsing in his grip and spurts of hot seed hit his skin, some hitting yours and a low groan escaping his lips as the pleasure overtakes his system.

Leaning forward, you press your lips to his after watching the first ropes of cum splatter over his stomach. Moaning into his mouth as he pants into yours while he works himself through it, finding it the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Fuck.” He pants into your mouth, squeezing his cock as he milks himself dry and he slides his tongue against yours, slowly pumping himself until he works himself until it becomes too much. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek.

Catching your breath with the kiss, you smile when you can finally giggle. Feeling like you are flying from the endorphins and the pleasurable ache between your thighs. “Merry fucking Christmas.” You whisper. “Holy shit, thank you for that.”

Joel chuckles softly, kissing your chin when you lean back. “My pleasure, sweetheart. Jesus, I don’t think - yeah, I haven’t had sex like that since I was in my early twenties.” He confesses, “did you enjoy it?” He asks, wanting to make sure it was everything you wanted and more.

You flip your leg over his and collapse against his side. “I fucking loved it.” His cock is softening and it’s strange to see it lying against his stomach, cum pooling under the flaccid flesh. “Can I taste it?” You ask softly, wondering if he will think you are strange.

He nods, a little speechless. Most women never want to go near cum, let alone taste it without it being direct from the source. Tess wasn’t one to swallow, she always spat it out. You look entranced and that makes his cock twitch in interest.

You were going to swipe your fingers through the sticky mess on his stomach, but you decide against it. Instead, you lower your head and take the cum covered head of his cock into your mouth to clean it off with your tongue.

“Jesus Christ.” Joel hisses, overstimulated but fuck, you are gorgeous. He thinks you’re incredible. “Fuck, sweetheart.” He pants when you give him mercy and release his cock from your mouth. “What do you think?” He asks you breathlessly.

“I think that I want this again.” You look up and shoot him again. “When you can, of course.”

Joel chuckles, caressing your back. “Might be a while. I ain’t young. I ain’t - it takes a while.” He says with a blush, “and I want this to be perfect for you.” He says softly.

“It already is.” You promise with a smirk and roll over to grab your panties off the floor to wipe the rest of the cum off his stomach. “Right now, I want to sleep, if you want to stay?” You ask, not sure where he would want to sleep beside you just because he fucked you.

“I want to.” He promises you. Joel should go sleep on the couch but he doesn’t want to. He wants to curl around you and fall asleep. He reaches for you, pulling you close as you grab the duvet to pull it over you both.

The room is warm from the fireplace and the sex, making you sigh softly as you settle into his embrace. “Goodnight Joel.” You murmur quietly. “I hope you sleep well.”

Joel knows he will. He feels safe and secure for the first time in God knows how long. He wants to curl around you, breathe you in, and go to sleep. He kisses your forehead, “goodnight.” He murmurs and closes his eyes, pleased to be safe and sound.

****

The storm wakes him up, the wind blustering past the window and he blinks a few times to remember where he is. His cock is hard again, morning wood from you curled around his body, and he remembers every detail about last night. God, you gave him all of you. You didn’t hold back and he’s honored that you let him touch you. He wants to touch you again. His hand caresses your back, gently shifting you onto your back, and he snakes down between your thighs. Spreading them, he groans at the sight of your pussy under the sheets and he leans in to slide his tongue through your folds.

You don’t want to wake up, warm and comfortable with the weight of someone beside you, but the most pleasure feeling from between your legs rips you out of your dreams. Waking up and gasping out Joel’s name when you realize he’s got his tongue pressed against your clit under the sheets, feasting on you while you slept. “Oh god.”

He loves the way your voice is rough with sleep as he wakes you with his tongue. Sliding it into you and his nose presses against your clit while his fingers push your thighs back so he can get even deeper

“Oh my god.” You moan again, eyes rolling back and your fingers twisting into the sheets. “Merry Christmas Eve to me.” You pant out jokingly. “I’ve gotten my present.”

He chuckles against your flesh, pulling back to flick his tongue over your clit until he sucks it back into his mouth. “Merry Christmas Eve.” He murmurs softly, his hand trailing along your thigh until he can push two fingers into you.

The room is still fairly dark, from the shutters and the storm outside, the room is slightly chilly so you know the fire has burned low, but you are in a magical place. Reaching under and running your fingers through his hair. “Joel, you’re so good to me.”

He curls his fingers, sucking your clit into his mouth and he desperately needs you to cum for him again. To hear it, to feel it. He’s addicted to you and he wants to make you feel amazing while you give him and Ellie shelter during the storm.

Your breathing comes in waves, the pleasure sometimes making you forget how as he presses against a spot inside you that makes your toes curl. “Joel.” You gasp out. “I- oh shit!” You squeal when the pleasure rockets through you and catches you by surprise. Soaking his fingers with your release.

He’s surprised by the way you soak his fingers and chin. Loving it honestly. He groans and works you through it, cock hard as he grinds into the sheets and moans your name as he pulls back to gently kiss your clit.

“Oh my god.” You whine. “Please tell me you are hard?” You ask, panting as you catch your breath. “Please, please be hard. I want you inside me again.

He grunts, “I’m hard. Have been since I woke up. Feel like a damn teenager.” He says, kissing up your body until he is pressing his lips to yours. His hard cock pressed against your thigh. “How do you want me, baby?” He asks softly, wanting you to continue to be in control.

“Just like this?” You know that it’s not emotional, but you can’t help but wrap your legs around his waist as your hands slide up his arms to curl around the back of his neck. “Slow? We have all day until Ellie wants food.” You joke. “It’s still early yet. She’s snoring.”

Joel nods, knowing the emotions between you are only because of your physical connection, of what you’ve given him. He swallows harshly and leans in to softly kiss you as he reaches between you to position his cock at your entrance, slowly pushing in.

You moan softly. Loving how gentle he is. You know that he’s tough, he could have hurt you, but he’s gone out of his way to make this amazing for you. “Joel.” You whimper into his mouth.

Your walls grip him and he hisses as your nails scratch down his back. “Sorry.” You mutter and he shakes his head, “no, I liked it.” He promises and pushes all the way in. He pulls back to look into your eyes as he starts to rock his hips, taking in every detail of your pleasured face.

Just like you asked him to, he takes his time. Staring down at you with a tenderness that almost makes you believe that this is real. This is your partner, maybe your husband, making love to you. “So good.” You whine softly. “I could spend the rest of my life right here.”

He knows you’re talking from a place of pleasure and not reality. He has to move on, to take Ellie west and find his brother. He rocks into you, caressing your side until he’s cupping your breast, squeezing it as he leans down to kiss along your neck.

It’s all you could want, this moment right here. You will be remembering it for a long time after this man is gone. You moan softly and tighten your thighs around him as he fucks you. Your walls clenching down around him.

Your walls grip him and he rocks slow and deep, wanting to hear and feel you fall apart beneath him again. “That’s it, baby. Christ, you feel good. So wet and tight around me.” He murmurs, loving the way you gasp when he lowers his pelvis so he can grind against your clit.

Biting your lip, you keep yourself from Asking him to stay. To settle here with you, him and his charge. You’re lonely, you can admit that. But you don’t say anything, just moaning when he works you back up to the edge.

He can tell you’re close. “Cum for me baby.” He demands, grinding lower and he pinches your nipple. “Cum for me. Cum.” He growls, needing you to fall apart for him again.

You shudder and can’t help but fall over the edge. Loving the roughness of the pitch and the desperation in his voice. Tilting your head back, you cry out softly as you shake under him in the most intense orgasm yet.

Joel pants as you cum around him, soaking him, and it’s an orgasm that seems to overtake your every sense. Your eyes close as you cry softly and he wishes he could commit that to memory. “That’s it, sweetheart. Shit. I- I gotta pull out. Got me worked up.” He confesses, reluctantly pulling his cock from inside of you. He reaches down to grip himself, pumping his length as he watches you recover.

“Cum in my mouth.” You immediately pant, reaching for him and pulling on his body as you beg. Wanting to see him cum as he fills your mouth is something you want to memorize.

Joel can’t deny you. He lets go of his cock and he shuffles up your body, straddling your chest. You lean forward to take his cock into your mouth and he groans. “Fuck. I- I’m not gonna last.” He confesses, “do you - fuck.” He chokes, pumping his cock as you suck on the tip.

Your eyes widen when the first rope of cum shoots into your mouth. Much harder than you had expected, it hits the back of your throat and forces you to start swallowing. Loving how his cock is pulsing, throbbing in your mouth as he spills, your hand gripping his hip to keep him close as you try to swallow every drop.

He closes his eyes as you take everything he gives you and he grunts your name, cock twitching inside of your mouth and his hand cups your cheek. “Fuckkkk.” He exhales shakily, one last slow thrust into your mouth until he pulls out of you.

Some of him has spill out of the corners of your mouth, making you lick your lips when he pulls out. “That was amazing.” You sigh, caressing his thigh as he hovers over you. “Thank you for the experience. And the wake up.”

Joel shifts off of you, reaching for you to curl you into his side. He cups your cheek and leans down to press his lips to yours. Not caring about the lingering taste of his cum. He doesn’t care about that. He kisses you firmly until he pulls back to nudge his nose against yours, “thank you for - well, I didn’t expect this when I saw smoke coming from your cabin.”

“I didn’t expect to have people come.” You admit easily, “but I’ve enjoyed having you both here. And while the storm blows, we will be nice and cozy here. And when you decide to leave, I’ll pack you up some supplies.” You offer softly.

Joel nods, unable to say anything else as you curl around him. He relaxes into the pillows, wanting to savor this time where he doesn’t have to fight for survival, to fight for his and Ellie’s lives. He kisses your forehead and closes his eyes, allowing himself to imagine a life spent here with you in safety.

Your eyes pop open when you hear the other bedroom door open. Joel is still asleep beside you and slowly, you ease out of the bed. Dressing quickly, you slip out of the room and out to find Ellie looking around. “Where’s Joel?” She demands, knowing the bar is still on the door and his gun is still here.

“He’s asleep.” You look back towards the bedroom. “Why don’t we build up the fire and I’ll start breakfast?”

Ellie nods, confused that Joel is still asleep. He never sleeps this much. He must be exhausted from all the late nights. You walk over to the fire and Ellie follows, "so...Joel slept in your room?" She asks teasingly.

“He did.” You aren’t embarrassed, but you don’t offer anything else. You aren’t sure if Joel would want her to know his business. Bending down. You stir the coals to life and quickly add more wood.

Ellie nods, “good. He needs to relax.” She isn’t sure what you guys did but she’s glad Joel isn’t fighting for survival right now. “It’s Christmas Eve!I” She remembers, “we can have hot chocolate, right?” She asks, excited for the holiday she’s never celebrated.

“We can.” You nod and smile at her eagerness. “And tomorrow, you will get some Christmas presents.” It might just be some old clothes you have and some socks that you had knitted, but you would be able to give her something.

Ellie’s eyes widen, “presents?” She asks and you nod. “I- wow.” She surges forward to hug you, “thank you. This is - this is the best fucking place ever.”

“You’re welcome.” You laugh softly and hug her back. “Don’t be too excited, it’s not a Nintendo or one of those gaming systems that were all the rage the last time Christmas was popular, but it’s given in the spirit of making you happy.”

“Nintendo?” Ellie asks and she snaps her fingers. “I used to - me and my friend-” Her eyes get dark with a loss that you know too well. “I- I lost my friend. We used to play arcade games in this abandoned mall until she was-” Ellie trails off.

“I’m sorry.” You tell her quietly. Everyone has lost someone during this time, but it’s obvious that this friend had been dear to Ellie. “Hopefully one day you can find a place to play again, smiling when you think about her.”

Ellie nods, appreciating how you don’t treat her like a little kid and you actually tell her how you think without censoring stuff. She appreciates you treating her like she should be. Joel tries to censor stuff but he can only do so much in this new world. “So…what’s for breakfast?” She asks.

“Well, I still have some eggs from the chickens, so I had thought we would have eggs and wildberry oat cakes.” You grin. “Like pancakes, but I ground up the oats for the flour.”

Ellie grins, “fuck yes.” She makes a fist and you giggle at her enthusiasm for something so simple. “I can help. I’m sure Joel will be up soon.” She offers and you nod.

Joel groans as he wakes up, his body stiffening as he tries to remember where he is until it hits him. He’s safe. It’s Christmas Eve. He swallows harshly and rubs his forehead as he sits up and reaches for the pajama pants you gave him that belonged to your father.

In the kitchen, the stove is hot, and you’re showing Ellie how you had ground up the oats using an old hand crank coffee grinder. Putting her to work with a grin as she talks to you.

Joel comes into the kitchen, finding you and Ellie cooking. “Something smells good.” He murmurs and walks over to you, he leans in to press a soft kiss to your neck.

Ellie puffs out a laugh and quickly turns her head. “I didn’t see nothin’ man.” She insists before showing Joel the oak cakes she had made, flavored with the dried wild berries you had picked this summer.

Joel appreciates the fact that she doesn’t call him out and he admires the oat cakes with a hum. “You did a good job, kid.” He praises her, suddenly able to let himself feel like the man he was before shit hit the fan. His shoulders aren’t tense, he doesn’t feel like he’s going to die every moment of the day. He ruffles her hair and she growls, making him chuckle.

You see that he’s relaxed and you smile, happy that you can provide that for this duo. To be a safe haven in the literal storm. “I thought that we would eat breakfast and then I will go into the cellar and bring up the small ham.” You offer Joel with a shrug. “I had planned on a small ham steak when it was just me, but it would be nice to have a proper Christmas dinner tomorrow?”

Joel bites his lip, “I don’t want you to waste all your food, sweetheart. You gotta survive the winter and I don’t- we don’t need to eat much. I’m already fuller than I’ve been in months.” He confesses, “don’t waste your resources.” He orders softly, not wanting to be the reason you go without.

“Joel….” You shake your head. “I have plenty of food.” You promise. “Although, I will need to get out to the barn at some point. Check on the animals.”

Joel nods, “I can do that. You stay in the warmth. I can see if there’s anything to hunt as well.” He adds, wanting to do his part. “I- I haven’t celebrated Christmas in many years and I- I do want this one to be special.” He admits and reaches up to cup your cheek.

“It will be special.” You agree, melting slightly at how kind he is being. “We will make sure of it. But you need to eat before going out in the cold.”

Ellie has never seen Joel like this before. He’s gentle. Something she hasn’t really witnessed. She’s seen the worst of Joel. The terrifying moments that he saved her life by doing what needed to be done. She’s never seen him caress someone. She focuses on the oat cakes as she turns away from the intimate moment, wanting to give Joel the time to enjoy this before he hardens up into the survivor he is

Breakfast is finished and it’s strange sitting down with other people, often it’s you and one of the books you are rereading. But it’s festive. You and Joel start talking about old Christmas traditions and Ellie is intrigued by the idea of ugly sweater contests.

Joel chuckles at her reaction, “yeah. Sarah used to make me and my brother Tommy wear the ugliest sweaters she could find.” His chuckles die down after a second, reminded of Sarah, and he frowns at how his heart aches but he’s happy to have the memories. “Another one was, uh, mistletoe.” He says, trying to distract from his reaction.

“Yeah.” You snort and grin. “Mistletoe actually grows wild around here.” You admit. Ellie has a confused look on her face. “If you were with a partner or a friend under the mistletoe, you had to kiss.” You explain with a small shrug.

Ellie smirks, "you should get some mistletoe. You know....so you guys have an excuse to kiss." She giggles and Joel clears his throat, raising his eyebrows at you. It's not the worst idea he has ever heard.

You shake your head, remembering how meddling teenagers can be. “I think that we will make the candy this morning.” You decide, eyeing Ellie. “How does that sound? Have the hot chocolate once Joel is back inside and everything is cozy again?”

Ellie nods enthusiastically, “hell yes.” She is so excited. She hasn’t experienced anything like this before. Joel smiles, pleased that she is happy. He remembers how much Sarah loved Christmas. “I’ll, uh, go get ready and I’ll go check on the animals.”

“Northwest corner, two hundred yards from the front door.” You’re sure that he had seen the barn, but just in case, you tell him. “I’ll bring in some more wood.”

Joel nods, standing up to go get dressed. You left some of your father’s clothes on the chair for him. If he thought it would be strange wearing a dead man’s clothes when the outbreak first happened, he’s immune to it now. Knowing that no one is making new clothes. At least not in the wilderness. He gets dressed and puts on his coat and boots, ready to face the storm for you.

You show Ellie how to clean up and start to bundle up as well. “Don’t stay out there too long.” You beg Joel as he grabs his rifle. “We don’t need meat too bad for you to risk yourself.”

Joel nods, knowing that he’s taken a lot of risks in life. He won’t linger out in the cold. He has to think of Ellie, of getting her where she needs to go. He winces as the storm blows in his face as he makes his way outside.

“I wish he wouldn’t try to hunt.” You murmur to Ellie as you wrap a scarf around your neck. “There’s plenty of food in the cellar.”

Joel squints through the blizzard as he makes his way into the barn, the animals all huddled together and Joel exhales, the cold air puffing as he checks on the animals, refreshes the water and hay, and makes his way back outside to see if he can find a lone deer or something.

With Ellie opening and closing the door for you, you manage to bring in another good few hauls of wood inside. Wanting to make sure that you stay nice and cozy over the next day or so. With Joel checking the animals, they should be set for a couple of days. You had meant to check them before the storm hit, but Joel and Ellie’s unexpected arrival had thrown that off. You had known the animals had plenty of food and water, but now you know they will be set for a few days.

Joel shivers as he picks up the two rabbits he managed to shoot and he makes his way back to your cabin. He knocks on the door and you unlock it. He shakes off the snow from his jacket as he enters the cabin, wiping off his boots and you take the rabbits so he can take them off along with his jacket.

“Go sit by the fire.” You huff, seeing how chapped his cheeks are and you rush over to the stove. You boiled together an herb tea, thinking it would be good for warming up the bones after coming back and you pour him a cup. “It’s herbs, but it’s tasty and hot.” You tell him, handing him the steaming mug. “I have some Vaseline for your cheeks.”

Joel huffs at you fussing over him but he secretly likes it. He rolls his eyes as he rubs his hands over the fire, feeling Ellie watching him with a smirk on her face. “We are gonna make candy today.” She tells him and he nods, trying to remember the last time he had candy.

You stoke the fire and pull out the large black cauldron to boil the sap. “So I have some syrup from my trees that we will boil down into a sticky candy.” You explain as you swing the hook around and set it up. “Then we pour it over clean snow.”

“Jesus. You have it all figured out, don’t cha sweetheart?” Joel says with awe in his voice. He’s never seen someone so capable except Bill. Only Bill never made goddamn candy. “Does it taste good?” He asks you.

“It’s amazing.” You shrug slightly, preening slightly at his praise. “We’ve been doing sugar boils for a long time. If you cook it down, you have sugar for the year.”

Joel hums, impressed at your ingenuity and your survival skills. “Sugar? For a year? Damn. I might never leave.” Ellie jokes and Joel meets your eyes, a hopeful sadness to them that makes his heart clench.

“You would be welcomed back anytime you’re traveling through the area.” You promise, although you know that you would probably never see them again when they leave. It’s just the way the world works now. “It takes a lot of sap, but there’s a lot of trees. I hang the buckets when the sap runs and gather it up once a day.”

Joel is impressed, certain that he’s never met a woman like you. Most women are strong in this new world but you seem to be thriving. Joel warms his hands and Ellie announces she’s gonna wash her hands before she helps you. Joel looks up as you walk over to him, displaying a piece of mistletoe in your hand. He stares at it for a second before he smiles, reaching for you. He cups your cheek and leans in to kiss you softly.

Leaning into the kiss, there’s something soft and sweet about this. You needed this. A reminder that you aren’t alone in the world and that there is good. Things to live for.

Joel knows he should be distancing himself from you but it’s hard. He pecks your lips when he hears the bathroom door open and he steps back just as Ellie enters the room. “Let’s make some candy!” She declares, rubbing her hands together.

Laughing at her enthusiasm, you show her how you are going to do it, bringing up a bucket of the sap from the cellar and pouring it into the cast iron cauldron. Soon, it’s bubbling over the fire and the entire house smells like syrup.

Joel watches you and Ellie work, making himself useful by gutting the rabbits for dinner. This feels too easy. Too domestic. It scares him a little.

It takes a long time, but Ellie is giggling as you talk about growing up here and thinking all the traditions and old ways were ridiculous when you were learning them. “Yeah, but now you have sugar.” She reminds you, making you grin. “True. And now, I’ve taught you some of the things that should never die out. Like the Christmas songs.”

Ellie grins, “so fucking cool. I wish I could’ve seen it. Before the world went to shit. How cool it must’ve been with the lights and the trees and - and the presents!” She exclaims and Joel sighs softly under his breath, wishing he could give her that dream but he can’t.

“It was really cool.” You admit. “There are times I wished that we had some sort of natural power. To run the lights.”

Ellie nods, “me too. Back in Boston, we had solar and some other sources but it wasn’t enough for a ton of lights.” She confesses, not really knowing much about how the QZ operated. Joel watches you interact with Ellie and he smiles, enjoying the way you seem to connect with her more than he has managed in months. He’s excited to spend Christmas with you and the kid. “You finish that candy yet?” He asks about an hour later.

“Almost.” You roll your eyes playfully at Ellie. About five minutes before, you had gathered clean snow in pans and you had shown her how to drizzle the thick, liquid candy into the snow and she had gone to town. “Come taste.”

Ellie grabs herself a piece, groaning at the taste, and Joel can't resist. He comes over after washing his hands and you pop a piece of candy into his mouth. He groans as the sugar hits his tongue. "Fuck, that - that's damn good." He murmurs, closing his eyes.

“Glad you enjoy.” You smile as it looks like Joel is having a religious experience. “I was thinking that some of the syrup might be used to bake the ham?” You ask, unsure of what they might think of the idea.

He nods, swallowing the candy, and finally opening his eyes. "Yes. Yes. That - Jesus, that's damn good." He confesses, licking his lips. Ellie turns her back to you both and he leans in to kiss you softly, letting you taste it from his lips.

Your eyes flutter closed and you wish that you could sink into the kiss but the kid is right here. You pull back reluctantly and smile.

The kiss is quick and Joel offers you a smirk as Ellie turns back just as he straightens up and he smiles at you softly, "let's get ready for Christmas." Joel says and Ellie grins, "fuck yes."

The day seems to go perfectly. You have decorations that you pull out and Ellie gets to squeal over. Soon the living room is filled with garland and bows, the small tree you had brought in just because you love the pine scent haphazardly decorated with the old ornaments. Adding to the decorations that you had up before they arrived. You sneak into the rooms and pull out items that both Joel and Ellie can use when they leave, a nice hunting knife that was your brothers for Ellie, thick socks and a heavy lined leather jacket for Joel, along with other things. You wrap them in scapes of flannel and bring out a stack of them to put under the tree.

Joel comes out of the bathroom to find Ellie shrieking over the tree. His eyes widen, "wow. I- shit. This is - presents?" He frowns, confused about what you managed to find to wrap up. He feels bad he didn't get you anything but he might have an idea of what to get you.

You smile at the unbridled joy on the teens face and shrug. “Just popped down to the store.” You joke. “Last minute Christmas deals are fantastic.” You had managed to find a pocket watch of your grandfather’s that was solar powered. You plan on giving it to Joel and telling him to charge it when he leaves since his wrist watch is broken.

Joel chuckles, coming over to you and he wraps his arm around your waist. “Thank you for making this so special for her.” He says, kissing your cheek. He allows himself to be tender, to shed the hard shell he hides in when he’s out there trying to survive.

“She’s a good kid.” You acknowledge, leaning into him. “I’m honestly happy that the two of you were here.” You bite your lip. “I was wondering what was the point of living out here by myself.”

Joel frowns, not liking the sound of that. He knows what it's like to be alone. "Then maybe...maybe you'll meet someone who will stay here with you. You gotta keep fighting. You gotta keep living. Otherwise all of this would've been for nothing." He says softly, his dark eyes burning into yours.

“Maybe.” You smile, the motion slightly bittersweet and shrug. “It’s not exactly a major metropolitan area. But maybe lightning will strike twice. You came when I needed something other than my own voice.”

Joel nods, letting go of you. He knows you want him to stay. If he’s honest, he wouldn’t mind staying, but he can’t. He has to find Tommy. He has to get Ellie where she needs to go. “You’ll be okay. You’re too good to not be.” He says softly as Ellie marvels over the tree. “Who wants to start preparing dinner?” You ask and Ellie nods, happy to help.

Dinner isn’t the ham, you are saving that for tomorrow, but the rabbit casserole you had decided on would go over well. You show Ellie what you are doing and how you make it and in no time, you’re sliding the dish into the oven.

Joel feels relaxed and he notices the guitar in the corner of the room. “Do you play?” He asks, trying to remember the last time he played the guitar.

“I do.” You smile at the guitar. “My father taught me a long time ago. After the world ended, it was the way we entertained ourselves during the evenings.”

“You play? I’ve always wanted to learn.” Ellie declares, eyes wide as she walks over to the guitar. “I used to play. Back in the day. I- I didn’t - haven’t played in years.” Joel confesses, “maybe we can teach you some chords?” He offers Ellie, wanting to give her something since you wrapped up some presents.

Joel nods, “I’m sure we can arrange that.” He promises and Ellie beams.

“Great! That - fuck yes.” She says and Joel doesn’t reprimand her like he normally does. It’s Christmas Eve.

“Come on, kid. Let’s help with the dinner.”

Ellie sets the table and Joel pours out the herbal tea you had made. “There’s a bottle of wine in the cellar.” You offer, shrugging slightly. It’s your last bottle but it’s a good excuse to open it as any. “It’s Christmas Eve.”

Joel won’t deny you if you want a drink. Hell, Bill and Frank went through most of their wine during their years together. He wouldn’t mind a glass. “Can I have a glass?” Ellie asks and Joel shakes his head, “no. You’re too young.”

You tilt your head and bite your lip, knowing it’s not your place to interfere, but you do anyway. “I don’t think a glass would hurt.” You offer. “My father let me have a small glass of wine on special occasions starting at ten years old.”

“Pleaseeee.” Ellie asks, “I used to drink vodka. Sneak it back in the QZ.”

Joel sighs, knowing the world has gone to shit and so have social standards. He nods, “one glass.” Ellie hisses in victory and Joel snorts, “one glass.” He repeats, knowing he has to limit himself too just in case something happens. You have to always be prepared.

You hide your smirk of triumph as you get down the wine glasses. “Joel, will you go down to the cellar? The wine rack is on the left.”

Joel nods, making his way downstairs to the cellar and he sees the stored food you have there. It’s impressive. It’s clear you’ve prepared a lot and he is proud of you. You’re not his. He’s not yours, but he’s proud of the strong, capable woman you are. He grabs the wine, blowing off the dust and he carries it up the stairs.

You are pulling the casserole out of the oven when Joel comes upstairs. “Perfect timing.” You smile softly, wishing you could have this every day. “Ellie, throw another log on the fire, will you?” You ask the girl.

Ellie nods, stoking the fire, and Joel takes the wine opener, remembering how to open a bottle of wine. He pulls out the cork and grabs the glasses, pouring three glasses just as you serve up the casserole.

“Soon, the snow will bury the cabin and insulate it even more.” You muse, the wind still rattling the shutters as the snow falls. “But we are nice and cozy here. The living room looks so festive thanks to Ellie’s decorating.”

Joel hands you a glass before he hands one to Ellie, teasing her by pulling it back for a moment before letting her have it. He takes his own glass in hand and clinks it with yours and Ellie. “Merry Christmas.” He declares, reminded of when he and Tommy would cheers with beers on Christmas Eve.

“Merry Christmas.” You hum and Ellie beams. “Merry Christmas!” She all but shouts it out, making you laugh.

“Let’s sit down and eat while it’s hot, shall we?” You ask and the teenager practically bolts for the table.

Joel chuckles and takes a seat. It’s strange to enjoy this time. To not feel like he constantly has a target on his back. He sips the wine after he sits down and groans softly at the smell of the casserole. “God, you could’ve opened a restaurant back in the day.” He compliments you.

“Thank you.” You fluster at the compliment and bite your lip. “I am sure that anything tastes good when food can be scarce.” You know you’re lucky, you had a family who worked hard and prepared so you can reap the benefits of it for years to come. “Merry Christmas, Ellie, Joel.”

Ellie holds her glass up, feeling so fucking cool as she clinks her glass with yours and says “Merry Christmas.”

Joel smiles, clinking his glass and when his eyes meet yours, he can’t help but stare for a long moment. Taking in this rare minute of peace and happiness in his otherwise turbulent world. He feels safe and secure. A rarity. And all because of you. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” He murmurs, winking at you.

You fluster again, feeling your cheeks heating up and you smile. It’s been such a whirlwind and you have enjoyed having them. “May your next Christmas be just as cozy.”

Joel doubts it, unable to confirm if he’s even going to be alive for the next Christmas but he murmurs a “thanks” and takes another sip of the wine. You grin and he continues eating his dinner with a groan at how good the food is after so long without consistent meals.

The meal is finished, devoured by both Joel and Ellie taking seconds and in the younger girl’s case, thirds. You smile at Ellie after she clears the table and notice that her cheeks are flushed. “How did you like wine?” You hadn’t missed her slipping some more wine from the bottle.

“It was…okay.” She admits, “kinda burned.”

Joel snorts, “that’s what it’s supposed to you. You get used to it. Then it tastes good.” He promises and ruffles her hair. “I think it’s time for you to go to bed. Sleep off the wine.” Joel tells the teenager.

You laugh when Ellie yawns and wish her a good night. “Presents in the morning!” She cheers and quickly shuffles off to the room that is hers for now. “I’ll clean up and then we can sleep if you want.” You offer.

Joel waits until Ellie’s door is shut and he shakes his head, setting down the plate you have in your hand on the counter, before he reaches for you to drag you against his body. His nose nudges your chin, dragging along your jaw until he whispers in your ear, “I don’t want to sleep.”

Shivering, you lean into his touch. “What do you want to do?” You whisper, almost afraid that you are reading the situation wrong.

Joel smiles against your skin, “everything. Want to touch you again. Hear you moan my name.” He murmurs, his hands sliding up until he is cupping your tits. “Want to feel you.” He whispers harshly, his mouth going dry at the idea of sliding into you again.

You moan softly and nod. “I want that too.” You agree, pressing up against him shamelessly. It’s thrilling that he wants you, even if it’s just because of convenience. Even if he just wanted you because of that, he wants you.

His hands squeeze your breasts as he kisses along your neck. “You’re so beautiful, darlin’. Wanna make you moan my name again.” He murmurs, sliding his hands back down to grip your waist and he turns you so he can softly kiss you.

The kisses you’ve shared have become familiar, your own hand sliding up into his hair as you kiss him back. Falling into his arms easily as he presses you into the counter.

His tongue slides into your mouth and he groans at the warmth of your body. He loves it. He groans into your mouth and his hands caress your body. “Bedroom.” He murmurs, wanting to see all of you.

Joel is one step behind you as you eagerly disappear into the bedroom. You’ll have to come back out, but for right now, you want nothing more than this man for Christmas.

He shuffles you into the bedroom, gently kicking the door shut behind him, and his hands grab the hem of your shirt, eager to pull it over your head. “Fuck baby. You’re so goddamn gorgeous.” He murmurs before surging down to kiss along your chest, kissing every inch of skin he can access until he bites down on your nipple through your bra.

“Joel.” You moan softly, eyes flitting closed and you are eager for him to touch you again. The fact that he is eager makes you drip with arousal. “Touch me again.” You beg softly. “Make me- I want you to fuck me.”

Joel groans as you beg him and how can he resist? He reaches behind you to unclasp your bra and drags it down your body, exposing your breasts which he eagerly attacks with his mouth, wrapping his lips around your nipple to suck and bite on it while his other hand squeezes your other breast.

His touch is burned into your skin. You will feel it for the rest of your life. Moaning, you reach down to unbutton your pants, eager to strip down and have him inside you again.

He chuckles into your flesh at the way you shove your pants down your legs and he helps you. When you’re naked, he guides you back towards the bed and pushes you down onto it. “Tell me what you want, baby.” He murmurs, his voice quiet but demanding.

You look up at him and bite your lip. “Strip for me.” You demand, wanting to see this rough, virile man take his clothes off for you. “I want to see all of you. And then I want you to make me cum.”

He can’t deny you. He shifts off of you and works on the buttons of the shirt you gave him. He slowly unbuttons it and exposes his chest. His dark eyes focus on you as he works on the belt before he unbuttons his jeans, shoving them down alongside with his briefs to expose his half hard cock.

“I want to suck your cock again before you leave.” Your cunt throbs and you have to press your thighs together. “It made me so wet.” You admit. “Want to see if it will happen again. Maybe you could cum in my mouth again?”

Joel groans, “baby. You- you don’t have to. I want to taste you again. Maybe…you wanna sit on my face and suck my cock?” He asks, always wanting to give you the choice.

You clench around nothing, turned on by the idea and you nod quickly. “Please.” You beg. “I - is it bad that I want to suck your cock? I love the way you moan.”

He s hakes his head,“not bad. Most women…they don’t like sucking cock.” He confesses. He shifts to lay down on the bed beside you. His cock hardens at the idea of you sitting on his face and he pats his cheek, “take a seat, sweetheart.”

You giggle slightly and bite your lip, wondering how to best do this. Joel takes your thigh and starts to guide you over him. “This is- really intimate.” You huff, feeling a little exposed with your holes on display to him.

He smiles, “it is but I’ll take care of you.” He promises and you hover over his face. He groans at your wet folds and he grabs your ass, pulling you down onto him with a moan of your name that’s soon smothered when his tongue slides through your folds.

Like last night and this morning, Joel’s tongue is magical, making you forget all about everything but the pleasure of him between your thighs. Until his cock twitches in front of your face because of your moans. Wrapping your fingers around his thick girth, you lean down and take the head into your mouth eagerly.

“Jesus.” He hisses into your pussy, his tongue going lazy from his swipes as you take him into your mouth. “Fuck.” He mutters into your folds and he hisses when you moan around him. Reignited, he goes hard on making you moan again, sucking your clit into his mouth.

It becomes a competition, seeing who can make the other moan louder, to stop pleasuring the other because the intensity is too much. You pump the base of his cock and take him deep into your mouth.

Joel groans into your flesh as you take him deeper, swallowing around him. He sucks on your clit, desperately trying to make you cum on his face.

You can't help but moan around his cock, grinding your hips back shamelessly onto his face. You had gotten over your embarrassment really quickly when you learned how much he liked this. It makes you take him deeper, swallowing around him as he spurs you on.

Joel groans into your cunt as you rock back onto him, helping him get you closer to cumming on his face. He pants as you work his cock a little harder, spit gathering in the coarse hair at the base of his length, and he grabs your hips, working you a little faster on top of him.

It's becoming a frenzy. Both of you are trying so hard to make the other break but Joel has the advantage of experience on his side. His grip shifts and he presses his thumb against your other hole, making you choke around his cock and the next flick of his tongue sends you flying.

Joel loves how you cry out, unable to care if you wake Ellie up as you moan so sweetly for him. He works you through it, his thumb pressed against your puckered hole until it slightly dips in to stretch you and he continues flicking your clit until you cry out in protest.

You rock your hips forward, pulling away from his still working mouth to make him chuckle. Taking his cock back in your mouth in an almost desperate attempt to make him feel just as overwhelmed although you know he will probably not want to finish in your mouth right now.

Joel pulls back, “wanna- wanna make you cum on my cock.” He pants, “please baby. Hands and knees.” He orders, wanting to do something different for you to experience everything while he’s here.

Moaning, you scramble off of him, eager to try the position you had always wanted to feel. You had been too nervous to ask if he would fuck you that way, but now you get what you want without ever even asking. “Fuck me.” You beg, looking over your shoulder as he shuffles to his knees.

Joel groans, leaning in to press his body against yours, his cock sliding along the crack of your ass. “Fuck baby. You’re - shit - you’re so pretty.” He murmurs, caressing your back before he grips his cock and positions himself at your entrance, slowly pushing into you.

Honestly, this position is more intense for you. He feels bigger than he had when you were riding him. Your back bows slightly and you push back to let him grind into him even more. "You're pretty." You gasp out, closing your eyes. You're sure that he's just saying that because he's inside you but you are a sure thing. He can fuck you as often as he wants while he's here. "More baby, please."

He can’t fucking deny you anything when your pussy is choking him like a goddamn vice. He pants and caresses your ass before smacking it. “You want more?” He asks and your pathetic whine makes him chuckle. He goes harder, his hips hitting your ass, and he eagerly watches the flesh jiggle.

All you can do is hold on, your fingers twisting in the sheets under you. After a particularly rough thrust, your elbows give out and you collapse down onto your face, right as you moan out his name. "Jooooooeeeellllllllll."

He groans, “that’s it baby. God, feel so fuckin’ tight around my cock.” He hisses, thrusting deep and hard. He shifts to plant his foot on the bed, jaw clenched as he works to push you into an orgasm. He wants to hear it again.

Rocking into you harshly, you grunt and moan while he fucks you. Clenching down around him every time he pushes deep, you love the way he twitches inside you. “Joel, fuck, yes.”

He groans as you clench around him. He reaches down to rub your clit, “cum for me. Cum for me baby.” He leans over you, kissing along your neck.

His chest is at your back and you moan. The expert touch of his fingers quickly has your body bucking under his. Starting to cum just like he ordered you to.

Joel groans when you clamp around his cock. He pants into your ear, kissing along your neck, and he rubs your clit a little faster to work you through it. “That’s it, baby.” He coos, rocking into you.

You pant against the sheet and moan. Wishing that he would fill you up just once so you could experience it. “Cum for me.” You whimper, closing your eyes in bliss.

He pants, so close to orgasm, and he hisses as he rocks into you. Over and over again. “Fuck. I- shit. Shit. Shit.” He manages to pull out just as he cums over your ass and back, hot seed hitting your skin.

You whine at the loss of his cock inside you, humming as you listen to him gasp for breath. “Fuck.” Your grin is tired and satisfied as you slowly straighten out on the bed. You know you will have to let him clean you up, or go to the bathroom to clean, but you don’t want to move right now.

Joel is uncaring as he looms over you and kisses along your neck. “So good, baby.” He murmurs, caressing your side until he’s shuffling off of the bed to head into the bathroom to clean you up.

Listening to someone move around the house is a luxury that you savor. Closing your eyes again with a smile on your face. Almost ready to beg him to stay and help you stave off the loneliness but you know he can’t.

Joel comes back in with a wet rag to clean you. He caresses your skin after you’re clean and leans down to kiss you softly. “Get into bed, sweetheart. It’ll be Christmas morning before you even know it.” He promises, tossing the rag in the sink after cleaning himself up and he pulls the covers back for you to get under them.

You climb into bed and into his arms. Enjoying the strength and steadiness of his heart beating in his chest. “Good night, Joel.” You murmur, holding back a yawn and suddenly ready to sleep.

Joel wraps around you after he blows out the candle on the nightstand. He smiles and kisses you softly until he falls asleep, a rare look of complete peace on his face. He winces when the sunlight streams through the slats of the shutters hours later and realizes it’s Christmas Day. He smiles softly and kisses your face, waiting until you whimper awake and he whispers, “Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Merry Christmas.” You groan softly, waking up and snuggling into his hold and sighing contentedly. You feel warm, safe and not alone, something that you had been wishing for a long time. It’s the best gift that you could have been given and you tilt your head up to kiss his chin. “Best Christmas ever.” You hum, kissing down along his throat gently, enjoying the sleep-warm scent of him. Memorizing it for when your bed is colder without him. “We should get up and get ready for an excited teenager.”

Joel groans softly, playfully, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Or we could just stay here all day.” He suggests just seconds before he kisses you softly. “She would kick the door down. She’s so excited.” He chuckles against your lips.

You sigh softly and smile. “We will have a good day. Pretend the world is normal outside.” You tell him. “Be cozy in this little bubble for awhile.”

Joel smiles, kissing your head, and he shifts to get out of the bed, grabbing his pajama pants, and he looks over at you, winking. “I’ll go make some coffee.” He offers as he grabs his shirt and slips out of your room into the kitchen.

You lay there for a moment before you get up and start dressing. Listening to the sounds of Joel opening the wood box in the stove and stirring the coals. The thunk of more wood being added. It’s completely domestic and you love it more than you should.

Ellie comes out once you’re dressed, eyes wide at the presents under the tree. “We got presents?” She exclaims and you nod, “yeah. Santa came.” You tease and she grins, rushing over to you and she wraps her arms around you. “You’re the fucking best.”

You grin as you hug her back. “You’re welcome. I hope that you like what I picked out for you.” The smell of coffee soon fills the air and you look towards the kitchen. “How about we have breakfast first and then presents?” You suggest.

Ellie pouts a little and Joel nods, reminded of Sarah when she used to be so eager to open gifts on Christmas morning. “Breakfast first.” He says sternly and Ellie nods, knowing it’s best to not argue with her father figure.

You decided to make breakfast quick since Ellie was so excited, so it’s done almost as soon as the coffee and you grin as you set it on the table. “We will have presents opened in no time.” You promise her with a wink.

Ellie tries not to pout as she agrees while Joel pours you out a coffee. You wink at him and he leans in to kiss you softly, “merry Christmas baby.” He murmurs and Ellie smirks, “Joel. Never knew you were a softie.”

Joel rolls his eyes and huffs but you just grin at how cheeky she is. Bolting down her breakfast as quickly as she can in her eagerness to get the day moving along so she can open her presents. Taking a sip of your coffee, you start your own breakfast when Joel sits down. It sounds like the storm has died down outside and the cabin is nice and warm. It’s a good day.

Youk grin as Ellie practically vibrates as she looks at the presents under the tree. “Go on sweetheart. Get the presents handed out.” Joel orders, knowing he would get Sarah to do that for him and Tommy when they’d celebrate Christmas.

You show Ellie which pill of presents is which, and pour you and Joel refresher cups of coffee to bring into the living room. The fire has been built back up and for a moment, you pretend, it’s just a normal Christmas morning. Sitting down on your old sofa and reaching for a throw to toss over your legs as Ellie bounces around creating two piles of gifts between her and Joel.

Joel frowns when he sees you don’t have anything and he remembers the simple gold ring he keeps on the gold chain around his neck. It belonged to his mother and no one has really seen it. He kept it hidden when he was in the QZ but grabbed it when he was leaving. He watches Ellie divide the presents and he looks at you, “this is too much, baby.” He says and Ellie is already ripping into a present.

“No it’s not.” You shake your head. “Things are hard to come by.” You murmur quietly. “I’m all alone. I don’t need my entire family’s wardrobe and things.” You remind him. “You two will be more comfortable traveling.”

Joel nods, opening a present to see a flannel shirt. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He murmurs and leans in to kiss your cheek. He watches Ellie open her presents with a grin and he frowns when you hand him another present. He quietly opens it, the velvet case and his eyes widen when he sees the watch. “This- I can’t accept this.”

“Yes you can.” You shake your head. “It’s solar. Hasn’t been used since my daddy died, but it’s a good watch.” You tell him. “I noticed your watch is broken, you wear it for the memory it carries. This will carry the memory of this Christmas, of me, with you.” You reach for his hand and close it over the watch. “I want you to carry it with you when you leave here.”

Joel caresses the watch, honored you’d want to give him something so special, so close to your family. He swallows harshly and leans in to kiss your cheek. “Thank you. I- wow. I - thank you.” He repeats, feeling a little overwhelmed. “Thank you baby.” He murmurs, “I love it.”

“Of course.” Ellie squeals and coos over her presents, clothes from your younger years and even some of your old jewelry for her to have. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She squeals and crushes you in a hug before she bounds off to try on the new things. You are happy she enjoyed everything and she’s having a good Christmas. “Now, I’ll start our dinner and make us some hot toddy’s to enjoy.”

Joel nods, “I’m just gonna use the bathroom.” He murmurs and stands up, heading into the bathroom to pull the chain from around his neck so he can take the ring off. He places the chain around his neck and holds the ring, heading out into the kitchen to find you. “Baby. I - I have a gift for you. It- it was my mom’s. I want you to have it.”

It takes you a minute to realize he’s trying to give you a ring. “Joel.” You whisper, frowning at the ring. You know that he will give you the same argument that you had given him. It’s probably the only thing that he has to offer you in his mind and to refuse it would be an insult. You look up into his eyes. “It’s beautiful.”

Joel smiles softly, a rare event, “like you. I want you to have it. You’ve shown us so much - well, no one has ever been quite as nice and I want you to have something special.” He says, reaching down to close your fist around the ring. “It’s something to remember me by.”

“I’ll never forget you, I promise.” You reach up with your other hand to cup his cheek. “Thank you, Joel. I’ll cherish it.” Leaning in, you kiss him softly, wishing again that he could stay and you could see what could grow between you. But it’s not to be. “Merry Christmas.”

Joel smiles, enjoying that you are happy on this holiday. “Merry Christmas.” He cups your cheek, his dark eyes meeting yours and he leans to softly kiss you. “I’ll never forget you.” He promises, “never.”

****

You shove another wrapped parcel of food into Ellie’s bag, zipping it up and patting it. They have stayed for two more days until the storm passed and every day was spent falling in love with both of them. Nights in Joel’s arms and days playing board games with Ellie and laughing at her sense of humor. Now it is time for them to leave and you are putting on a brave face. “You are all set.” You promise her, accepting the bone crushing hug she gives you and when she pulls away, you wrap her scarf around her neck and pull the beanie down over her ears. “Stay warm.”

“I’m gonna miss you.” Ellie huffs, squeezing you tight once more and pulls away to wipe her eyes since she’s told you she’s not going to cry.

Joel swallows harshly as he steps towards you after you hug Ellie. He pulls you close, burying his face in your hair, breathing you in. He’s going to miss you. So much. He has to leave though. He leans down to press his lips to yours, uncaring of Ellie watching as his tongue slides against your lips.

It’s easy to let him in again. Clinging to him and cherishing the last kiss you’ll ever have. “Stay safe.” You beg softly after a long minute where you are both panting for air when you pull back. “I hope you accomplish your mission. Find your brother, be happy.”

Joel doubts he could be happy. Not like how he’s felt while he’s been with you. These past few days…he hasn’t felt this at peace since he…well, pre-outbreak. He sighs and rests his forehead against yours and he kisses you softly one last time. “Be good for me, baby.” He murmurs against your lips, “stay alive.” He adds, knowing that being alone can be hard.

You give a small smile, knowing you can’t promise that, just like he can’t promise to be safe. The world is full of uncertainties and danger. Watching them from your porch is the hardest thing you’ve done in a long time. Waiting until they disappear from sight before you go back inside, the warm cabin is colder and lonelier now without the two people who had literally broken in and stolen your heart.

****

It’s been a year. Joel has been keeping track of the time and he asked Tommy to confirm it. After telling Ellie his plan, she’d been all in on joining him on the trek back to your cabin. Along the way, he had chopped down the best Christmas tree he could find and he knocks on your cabin with the snow just starting to fall on Christmas Eve.

Your gun in your hand, you warily unbar the door and slowly open it. You had shuttered the cabin earlier and the decorations are still in the box, in no mood this year for Christmas. The knock on the door seems almost surreal and you squint out through the crack before your eyes widen. “J-Joel? Ellie?”

He grins, seeing your beautiful face, and his memories did you no justice. God, you’re gorgeous. He nods, seeing the gun and he doesn’t care as he surges forward to cup your cheek and press his lips to yours.

You melt into the kiss immediately. Hastily setting the gun down on the table next to the door and throwing your arms around him. You never thought you would see him again and here he is, on your doorstep for a Christmas Eve. It’s the best present you’ve ever had.

He kisses you until he’s pulling back and pecking your lips. “Jesus, it’s freezing. Can we come in?” Ellie eventually interrupts the moment and Joel rolls his eyes. “I missed you.” He murmurs after they take off their jackets and boots and he’s wrapping his arms around you. “We found my brother. He’s - he’s in Jackson. It’s - it’s amazing. It’s a proper town. With people. Doctors. A goddamn bar. Come back with us to our house.” He requests softly.

“Your house? L-leave?” You are so confused but Ellie pipes in.

“Joel and I have a house. It’s got plenty of room and we want you to come. We can bring whatever you want and come back with the wagons to get everything.” She bites her lip. “Joel’s missed you. A lot. He’s been a grumpy fucker since we left.”

Your eye brow lifts when Joel nods. “I’ve missed you.” He repeats. “I want you to come live with me and Ellie. You can bring the chickens and everything you want from here.”

You stare at him in shock. It’s been a year and he hasn’t stopped thinking about you. “Baby. I- I want you to come back with us but you don’t - it’s your choice.” He promises, caressing your cheek and he lowers his hand, “you don’t have to decide now. It’s Christmas. Let’s celebrate and decorate the tree and then we can discuss it.” He promises, trying to compromise.

“I- yes..” you decide instantly. “We will have our Christmas here and then I will go back with you to Jackson.” You have been miserable without Joel or anyone else here and you never thought you would see him again. He’s back and he wants you with him. Christmas with Joel might have started here, with the white Christmas that had blown him into your life, but next year, you will celebrate with Joel and Ellie in Jackson. Next year and years to come.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller the last of us #joel miller tlou

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torukmaktoskxawng · 4 months

Note

Could you do 57, 65, and 69 for Neteyam x Metkayina reader who assists tsireya and aonung in teaching the sullys but while doing so she wants to also learn their ways :) Oh! And how about Reader making traditional courting jewelry for Neteyam (after asking for help from Jake and Neytiri duhh)

#57: Validation/Affirmation/Identity, #65: Promise/Pinky Swear, #69: You Remembered

Pairing: Neteyam/Metkayina!Fem!Reader

Warnings: identity crisis, fluff, blood, time skips, near-death experience, young love

Taglist: @neteyamsl0ver @mooniequeen

A/N: I do apologize if I don't fulfill the full request since I had a similar prompt for Lo'ak and I didn't want the brothers to have similar stories. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~

While Lo'ak, Kiri, and Tuk adapted and thrived in Awa'atlu, Neteyam wasn't as successful.

As the firstborn and brought up as the once-future olo'eyktan, Neteyam was raised off of Omatikaya culture and nothing else. He was raised to be a warrior and a leader, taught by the many other leaders of his clan. Both his parents and his grandmother taught him everything they knew and more. He loved it and was passionate about his people's lifestyle, so he struggled to learn anything else, much like his mother.

Both Neytiri and her oldest felt so out of place among the Metkayina, always homesick and mourning their former lives, now changed forever. Now that Tarsem replaced Jaked as the Omatikaya's chief, Neytiri would no longer be tsahik after Mo'at and Neteyam would never become olo'eyktan. Everything he was taught, all that hard work and striving for perfection... no longer mattered.

Neteyam felt as though he didn't belong among the reef people, but his siblings clearly weren't in the same boat. Tsireya was an excellent teacher and Lo'ak clung to every word she said. It also didn't hurt how close he had gotten with the chief's daughter to the point where he was always given one-on-one lessons with her. Once Ao'nung and Lo'ak got over their differences, they actually became good friends and Rotxo was never far behind.

Neteyam's sisters also thrived in Awa'atlu and found friends in Rotxo, Ao'nung, and Tsireya. To none of the Sullys' surprise, Kiri was a natural swimmer and deep-diver who barely struggled with holding her breath. And while Tuk was young and inexperienced, she was still young enough to relearn how to survive and adapt to this new lifestyle. By the time she's Neteyam's age, she'll be a far more skilled Metkayina than her older brother could ever hope to be.

It was such an uncommon feeling-- for Neteyam to be the odd one out. He had always fit in with the people around him, while his siblings... not so much, but he never loved them less for it and he always tried to understand their emotions. Now, finally, he fully understood how they felt to be the outsider.

Those thoughts always vanish, however, whenever he is in your presence.

Adamant on teaching the Sully children alongside Tsireya, you had grown fond of Neteyam almost immediately. At first, you spent one-on-one time to help him catch up with his siblings' progress. As his teacher, Neteyam found that he was able to focus and absorb the information whenever it was just you and him. He learned how to hold his breath underwater, ride an ilu, the sign language, the tulkun songs, and it was all because of you, his savior.

As your friendship bloomed, Neteyam opened up more about his clan and their way of life, which always piqued your interest. By the time he came to terms with his feelings for you, he also began to share his inner thoughts, how he initially felt like an outsider among the Metkayina and a little envious of his siblings since they managed to adapt so quickly.

"That is ridiculous," you scoff good-naturedly as you sit beside him on the beach one night, "You will always be the son of Toruk Makto, but you are also one of us now. There's no shame in missing what you lost back home. Your friends, your status, and the life you loved, but that doesn't mean you can't love the new life you're starting here. There's no harm in change. Take the ocean for example."

He watches as you dip your hand into the wet sand, letting the shallow water spill into the crevice of your palm. The glowing algae once swimming in the water now swirled in your hand in a way Neteyam could only imagine pixie dust would look like based on his father's stories from Earth.

You lift your hand up and watch as the glowing water falls through the cracks of your fingers, shimmering as it splashes back down into the ocean, "It's always changing and it never stays in one place. When the tide takes you out, you're not supposed to fight it. You have to swim alongside it or you will drift away. Do not fight change, Neteyam. Let it happen. Your brother mentioned a saying from the Sky People and I think perfectly encapsulates what I am trying to say. 'Go with the flow.'"

You weren't expecting the laugh that jostles from Neteyam's chest, but you welcomed it all the same, smiling victoriously at getting him to laugh. It was a deep sound in his throat, and he looked so free and relaxed, the sight made your stomach warm. Once he recovers, he smiles back at you, loosely and genuinely.

"Thank you, Y/n."

You nod, jutting your chin out with confidence, "Just wait. You'll be a warrior among us sooner than later, just as you are with the Omatikaya. I am sure of it."

"Pinky swear?"

Your brow ridge furrows, tilting your head in confusion, "What?"

"Oh, right," Neteyam breathes a small laugh as a thought dawns on him, "It's a human thing. Alien custom. You link your smallest fingers together to form a sacred vow-- a promise, and after that, you can't break it. It works for people with extra fingers, like Lo'ak and Kiri. Our father taught us."

He clenches one hand into a fist except for the last finger, his smallest. You stare oddly at his hand before staring down at your own, mimicking the same movement and pointing only with your smallest finger, "What happens if you break the promise?"

"... You know, I don't actually know," Neteyam sheepishly admits, bowing his head to hide the embarrassment on his face, "My father can be timid sometimes so I just never bothered to find out."

You hum but don't question it further, allowing Neteyam to lock your small fingers together. Despite the weird custom, it made your face warm to feel the heat of his body so close to yours, your fingers linked together to seal a sacred vow.

~~~~~~~~~

As this unspoken thing progressed between you and Neteyam, the Sky People were closing in on the Sullys' location. Eventually, war came to the reef and you and the other reef children got caught up in it after following Lo'ak and his siblings to save Payakan. Things took a turn for the worse and suddenly you find yourself kneeling on a slippery rock surface before Neteyam, desperately trying to help Lo'ak as you both press your hands into the older boy's chest to stop the bleeding. The sight haunted you as Neteyam's eyes wildly looked around, appearing unable to focus on just one person as he struggled to breathe, his body going into shock. He was shivering from head to toe but not quite cold, gasping for breath even though he wasn't drowning. Even as tears blurred your vision, you didn't dare draw your hands away, stomping down the fear of losing Neteyam and instead replacing that fear with determination to save him.

You, Lo'ak, and the human known as Spider worked as a team, following Toruk Makto's instructions and doing whatever Tsireya told you to do with her knowledge of healing. By the time Neytiri had managed to find her family in the chaos of the battlefield, the bleeding had begun to slow. Even though you had saved Neteyam a little more time, you weren't out of the woods yet. Neteyam needed real healing from Ronal and at the same time, Kiri and Tuk needed rescuing from the ship of metal the Sky People sailed on. Both Sully parents were conflicted about what they should do until you and Tsireya took control of the situation. Together, you two convinced Jake and Neytiri to go rescue their daughters while you swore to take the unconscious Neteyam back to the village. They expressed their gratitude before taking off, and then Lo'ak and Spider helped you and Tsireya get Neteyam onto an ilu. You girls took Neteyam to Ronal while the boys stayed behind, not wanting to go back until they knew Kiri and Tuk had been safely rescued.

The rest of the Sullys returned to Awa'atlu hours later, tired but mostly unharmed and desperate to see their son and brother. To their shared relief, you and Tsireya had brought Neteyam to the tsahik just in time, and Ronal held Neytiri after the crying mother was reassured that her son would live.

It was hard for you to visit Neteyam as time went on. He had woken up a week after the Sky People were defeated, but he was constantly surrounded by his family so you didn't think your presence was needed. You didn't want to crowd him any more than he already was, constantly looked after by his loved ones while he healed. It was torture for you, knowing that he was safe but still haunted by the memory of his blood on your hands. You hadn't seen him in so long and you needed to be sure he was whole and on the way to recovery. You needed to see him with your own two eyes and so finally, you gained the courage to approach Toruk Makto and his mate.

After everything you have done for Neteyam and their family, Jake and Neytiri were more than happy to make sure you had some time alone with Neteyam to talk and catch up. They took their other children away for the afternoon and flashed you small smiles of encouragement, silently offering some good luck.

Neteyam looked up from his cot upon hearing the sound of someone entering his family's kelku, and seemed genuinely surprised by who stood in the doorway, "Y/n?"

You faintly smile, his voice saying your name sounded like a soft lullaby you haven't heard in so long. You move over to the cot and kneel before him, scanning his face. Apart from the bandages wrapped around his chest, he looked like himself, "You look better."

You immediately flush with embarrassment when those words leave your lips and you instantly backtrack, "I mean-- I just-- I'm glad that you are on the mend."

Instead of appearing offended, Neteyam's forehead wrinkles as he peers up at you with concern in his voice, "Where have you been? I was worried."

Both happiness and shame battle in your gut, touched that he was worried about you but guilty for not seeing him sooner to ease both of your pain. You lower your voice to a whisper, bringing your hand to brush a braid out of his face, "I'm sorry. I didn't think you needed someone else at your bedside. You have so many people who love you and want to see you get better, so I wanted to give you some air to breathe. I'm sorry. I won't do that again unless you ask me."

He catches the hand you used to push aside his braid and takes your fingers in his before you can pull away, bringing your hand to rest on the side of his face. He leans into your palm, murmuring against your skin, "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," you exhale shakily, tears beginning to brim in your eyes, but they were out of joy and relief, "I... I'm so happy you're awake. I have something for you."

You don't pull your hand away, wanting to keep touching Neteyam's face, his skin warm and alive beneath yours. You use your free hand to grab the item you placed on the floor beside you and hold it up for the forest boy to see. Neteyam tilts his head up to take a look and his eyes widen in shock.

Beads carved from trees, not shells, the fiber stripped from plants on land, not from the seaweed floating underwater. All of it was woven into an intricately made armband that was clearly inspired by Omatikaya fashion.

You place the band in Neteyam's free hand, his eyes still wide as his thumb traced over the pattern. He wets his bottom lip and blinks, still shocked while trying to form words, "What...?"

"I hope it's to your liking," you explain even as the heat rises to your face, "Your mother and father helped me make it."

Whatever you said must have been the right answer as a smile suddenly blooms on Neteyam's mouth, "It reminds me of my clan. Of home."

He could only describe whatever he was feeling in his chest as warmth and love, taking over whatever soreness he was still feeling from his wound. He looks away from the armband and peers up at you with a wordless question in his eyes. Warmth spreads in his stomach when you understand his silent question and you assist him in putting on the armband without another word. It fit perfectly on him, and it was even better knowing that you made it.

"Thank you, ma'tìyawn. This means so much to me," his head and ears began to lower in shame, "I'm sorry I didn't make anything for you."

"It's alright," you whisper gently, swallowing a small cry that threatens to escape as you shakily exhale, "I... I would rather have you alive than a piece of jewelry."

He immediately moves to comfort you, staying on his back knowing that his mother would scold him but taking your hand in his once again and placing a kiss in the center of your palm, "Once I'm healed, I would like to ask your family for their permission to court you officially. I want to make proper jewelry for you, one that perfectly resembles your own clan."

A darker shade of blue crept over your face but you were too happy to notice, bashful yet relieved that your feelings were reciprocated, "Once you are healed, you can do so."

"And... And I want to take you back to the forests where I grew up," he admits quietly, "I want to introduce you to the Omatikaya, all my friends and family back home. I don't think we would be able to stay there because of the war, but I want to bring you for a visit."

You beam with wonder and excitement, stomach flipping at the thought of future plans being made with your young lover, "I would love to go meet your clan. We will go when there is time."

Then, you lift a hand up to him, pointing out the last finger on your hand as you confidently declare, "Pinky promise."

His expression melts into a sweet, fond smile, carefully lifting his hand up and linking your smallest fingers together, "You remembered..."

~~~~~~~~~

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam avatar #neteyam atwow #neteyam sully #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x you #atwow imagine #avatar imagine #avatar 2 #atwow #avatar #avatar the way of water #imagine #avatar the way of water imagine

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yannaryartside · 4 months

Text

Sydney Adamu; Donna's antithesis

THE BIG PARALLEL: THE QUEEN OF THE KITCHEN

Donna's introduction to the audience is in her kitchen, where she is the leader, the center of the action; all orders come from her, and the dynamic in the family is created primarily by her. She has assigned (indirectly or so) the roles of all the family members that keep the family working in the way it does. She is the queen, the leader—a role she was given by nature.

And what is Sydney's job in the kitchen? The CDC, even when she was a sous, she was already taking the responsibilities of the CDC. She is their queen, their leader in their kitchen—a role she was given by choice.

The writers had given Sydney every opportunity to be Donna so they could show us how much of Donna she is not. Here are my favorite examples of it.

Donna brings guilt, and Sydney brings grace.

Donna created her daughter's nickname after a mistake she made as a kid (probably when Nat was nervous and afraid to fail her), messing up a recipe.

Sydney gave grace to Tina when she messed up the recipe for the mashed potatoes. Sydney could have used that opportunity to get back at Tina for making her look bad in front of Carmy and all the other stuff. Sydney decided to be the bigger person; God, Sydney was not trying to make Tina own or like her. She just decided that is not what she is. She acknowledged that Tina was trying something new and wanted to be available in case Tina needed help. Sydney gave Tina clear expectations, recognized the task's difficulty, and offered help. Later, she was graceful when a mistake was made, and gave positive reinforcement when the job was well done. We learned then that Tinas was terribly afraid of being displaced or not good enough. Sydney is giving Tina all the things Donna should have given Nat.

Another exmaple of this is when Richie and Sydney are shopping for caulk. She just buys the right one; she doesn't rub it in his face or call him stupid or careless. In all their conversation, Sydney tried to understand more, not put more fire into the pile. Richie recognizes that, and I think this is when he starts to respect her, even a little.

Donna brings chaos, Sydney brings order.

Both women have the role of being the center (heart) of the kitchen. Only Donna can touch the food in her kitchen, while Sydney delegates the kitchen tasks to the restaurant employees.

Donna gives the absence of self, and Sydney brings purpose.

To please their mother, try to win her love, or just survive the household dynamics, the Berzatto siblings had to adopt behaviors/personalities that were not natural to them. Mickey was at least 18 when his father left; he took the provider position by helping her mom run the restaurant. He also took care of his siblings. He was his ultimate ally in helping the family feel like a family, particularly by always being capable of "dialing a room" to make everyone feel entertained, appreciated, have fun, and be a family. For all these reasons, he was Donna's favorite, and the other two siblings were neglected because of it. Neither Nat of Carmy felt really like she was there for them; she probably didn't encourage Carmy to draw or Nat in anything. Nat and Carmy grew up believing their talents/nature were useless because they didn't please their mom. Neither of them recognizes the things they are good at outside the kitchen: Nat diminishes her husband's compliments on her hard work, and Carmy ignores compliments on his drawings.

Sydney, on the other hand, can encourage Marcus to follow his passion for baking. She supports Tina in her culinary journey to the point of her becoming the third person in charge. She asked Nat to be the project manager because, in the few interactions she had with her, she perceived (or it was intuition) Nat's attention to detail, caring nature, and responsibility. In the climax of the second season, she trusts Richie to do the calling of the orders when she has no reason to believe he can, and he solidifies his purpose. Sydney "nurtured" everybody's natural talents and trusted them to walk independently. That is what a good parent or leader does. It is such a brilliant subtext. Important to note she doesn't do that with Carmy, because Carmy is her equal, her partner-to-be.

Other ones:

There is also to mention the fact that Sydney was a professional driver, and Donna tried to crash a car in her own house. Talking about metaphors.

Also, Sydney doesn't indulge in any of the toxic behaviors that the Berzattos learned from Donna, neither Carmy nor Richie's bullshit nor the rest of the staff. Little by little, she fought fire with water, and she won, maybe because she is more like a river than a drop. She had a purpose on her own, an identity, a past that she kept to herself, and a desire to move forward. People started to respect her the more they relied on her and the more she didn't give in to the toxic traits that were ruling them before. They saw the good and followed it.

Sydney may not rely on toxic dynamics to lead her kitchen, but she will not let others take advantage of her. She did not pick on Carmy's slack last season for him but despite him. She doesn't believe that is what she is supposed to do, not only as her employee but friend and possible romantic interest. She calls the bad behaviors/tendencies by it's name. And communicates she won't have it, while also saying she belives in him.

I think most of the audience (besides the ones in this fandom) really doesn't understand how extraordinary Sydney is. If she wasn't as well-written as she is, with defects and fears, people would think that she is the "saint woman/magic woman" archetype, making everything previously broken work in her presence. I also think it is because she is a woman, and women are expected to bring magic and be fixers and helpers. There is also the fact that she is a black woman, and everything that comes with that, but I cannot comment on that, so I am not going to. Just saying she is one of the most amazing role models I have seen, decorated with the price of also being one of the most complex female characters on screen. She is not perfect as a person and has not reached her whole potential, and she wants it. I respect and admire her so much. Even when Carmy seems to have a longer path of healing ahead, I want Sydney to win the most, not just heal. I want to know more about her, her intimate desires, and why is her heart broken. Long gone are the days when women lived on screen to make everybody around them better and happier. All the things she is extraordinary for, the ones I talked about, are not just reasons why Carmy had admired her or fallen for her. She is, for me, a champion preparing for live-defining battles. We know who she is, and we get to discover what else she could be, to grow in her self-confidence, her purpose, and what brings pleasure to her soul. She is considered now the show's co-protagonist.

And I hope in s3 we are in for a journey. She made all the difference. Thank you for reading.

#sydcarmy #sydney adamu #sydney adamu meta #the bear meta #the bear #carmy berzatto #natalie berzatto #donna berzatto #tina the bear #marcus the bear #richie jerimovich #Sydeny adamu is my champion

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easy-there-leftovers · 8 months

Text

I See You, Darling (2)

[Astarion x reader] Due to surprisingly overwhelming demand, the previous fic, along with this one and many more to follow, will now be part of a series!! It was honestly very difficult trying to come up with what happens next, but here we are. The idea came to me during a fever!! |Word count: 2.5k.| Based off of this post I made.

Part 1 here!!

Next part here!!

The reader believes they are in a dream. It wouldn’t be the first time their fantasies conjured up such an obscure, yet somehow realistic scene. And so they’ve elected to treat the experience with as much realism as one would observe in a dream; little to none.

Alternatively;An ex-art-student-now-traveler accustoms themselves to the party.

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“Shadowheart. Shadow…heart. Hm.” His gaze bounced between you and her.

“I’m sure her parents meant well, but the name is rather ominous, isn’t it?” He leaned over to your side, not bothering to hide his blatant distrust. Lowering his voice dramatically, if anything.

“Unless she chose it herself. Which is even more worrying, honestly.” He chuckled out.

It had been no more than two bells after mornbright when you met Astarion. Since then, you’ve come to realize how…different your presence has changed the course of the story. Though more subtle than you expected.

It would seem as if you had met the elven vampire before the party was formed, which was strange as your last save point was far later than that and the forest had been quite a long way from the beach.

When you finally stumbled upon Shadowheart, he was quick to share his inner thoughts that you haven’t heard from the game before.

As they continued with their quest to find a cure for the Illithid problem, expanding their party as they did so, you had tried to make yourself useful by doing the dirty work for them. Looting and opening crates filled with camp supplies, armor, and potentially useful weapons and artifacts could always come in handy for trade or for “artifact consumption,” as per Gale’s need. Sorting them for your group’s convenience.

And while you did not have more direct and immediate practical use for your course of study in the modern world, the research you’ve created and reviewed for character creation and world building was doing wonders for your survival.

Or as much as it can for a magicless, not so athletic human.

The “runes” of the medieval ages that have been carved into stone, along with the basic history and background of the common races and deities of the fantastical world that tabletop RPG has offered puts you at quite an advantage.

Not to mention your experience with the areas of the game giving you the same effect.

But this library of information had also aroused something akin to suspicion and concern. It would be understandable if you were a simple traveler just like them, or perhaps even an artisan from the guild, but you were not as astute as either background.

So how could you have access to this much knowledge yet be unaware of more practical matters? It’s as if you had simply read about it from somewhere.

Astarion had been quick to give an explanation before you could form one of your own that could poorly convince your companions. Although, perhaps his suggestion was more outlandish than anything you could have come up with.

“They came with me. Property and all the formality that comes with it. A family pet, if you will.” A perfect excuse to justify your constant proximity to him, and a likely explanation to being well read, but not well experienced.

You thought nothing of the title, your apathy to the non-hazardous labels of this world apparent.

The same couldn’t have been said about your associates who had a few comments about this disclosure.

“I am unfamiliar with the–well, I shall not say ‘culture.’ ‘Customs’, perhaps. I did not think your kind to house such breed of cattle. Perhaps they could be useful.” Was Lae’zel’s.

“I assure you, they typically don’t. Humans aren’t naturally subservient to Elves, at least in this manner. This setup sounds more akin to slavery. Blink twice if you need help.” Was Gale’s response.

“It seems like Astarion's from the upper city, given the embroidery on his armor. I wouldn’t put it past them to have servants that follow them around.” Shadowheart’s nose crinkled at the thought.

The party already had such an interesting rapport. Not entirely comfortable with one another to divulge everything, but loose enough to have semi-pleasant conversation with.

You thought this as you sorted out the fruits of your collective labor into neat pouches and bags, keeping items similar to one another factioned into their respective holding space. The chest being closer to Withers more than you’d like, but it was nice to hear the ramblings of an…undead person? Hearing someone continuously talking allows you to be more productive.

You’ll admit, handling enchanted armor and crystals does make you a tad nervous but you’re comforted by the thought that it will not be you who wields it in battle.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Gale approaching your direction. Possibly to ask for his share of the camp supplies just a little earlier to sate himself as you had an abundance of it for now. You regard him with your back turned and he stops for a bit.

“I will say that I don’t have the lightest of feet, but I figured myself better at sneaking around.” It’s not his fault that he got caught, but the bright purple robe and the smell of the oils you’ve been crafting for them are particularly noticeable.

“You are, but I’ll assume you're not exactly in the best shape after dealing with a few goblins.” You hold up a bottle of a healing potion, swinging it a bit with your fingers to indicate that the smell had warned you of his arrival.

“You’ve got a keen nose on you. Must be from all of Astarion’s training but, speaking of which,” He nears himself to your crouched form, going in to lean against a very old and empty crate.

“Gale, wait–” Right as your warning leaves you, they seem to evade him as falls right through the wood. A comical layer of dust and lichen pluming out from the force. He tries to quickly recover from both the physical and emotional damage as he brushes himself off to make himself presentable once more.

“Ahem, as I was saying,” He again makes his way over to you, settling for just standing close as his attempts to look unbothered temporarily cost him his ego.

“I was serious about what I said before. While I don’t know what to make of our pallid friend just yet, as enigmatic as he is, what he said before is quite confusing. Best make haste away from here if you want your freedom while we’re distracted with this worm problem.” His tone suggests a genuine concern which confuses you.

You’d be lying to yourself if the label of the set up didn’t sound odd, but you’ve never expressed discomfort as there was nothing all too worrying about it on your end. It was mostly for show, and you had as much independence as Tav would have in your game.

You endeavor to quickly dispel his worries.

“You don’t have to worry, I’m very satisfied with my servitude under Astarion. He’s very lenient and reliable, and I’m better off with him than on my own." You return to your task of sifting through your materials but pause and look back up at him to continue.

"I do thank you for turning my way though. Your concern is much appreciated but unnecessary.” You lowered your head a bit to show your thanks.

“Well if someone as generous as yourself says to trust you on this, then I have no choice but to concede! I’ll keep a watchful eye and offer guidance, should you need it. Also, do we happen to have something for—” As he asks you for some sort of salve, just a few ways off, your eccentric “handler,” of sorts, watches the two of you interact.

Don’t get him wrong, such matters don’t really catch his attention, but being an elf does curse him with the ability to have extensive hearing. Something that he thinks Gale knew, and something you forgot. That would explain the lack of distance between you two.

He thinks it’s amusing how the wizard is trying to make conversation with you as if you were some foreign creature. His usual eloquence nowhere to be seen, and you seemed as unbothered as ever. Like how he usually saw you when you conversed with someone through a crystal.

It was a phone, not that he knew that though.

“They’re a real nice one, aren’t they?” Karlach says from her side of the camp which was nearer towards his tent and yours.

“Hm, yes. While that may be an admirable trait, it’s hardly going to get them anywhere if they keep this up.” Astarion huffed out, not very keen on your altruistic playstyle so far.

He doesn’t know much about what you do and don’t know, all he knows is that you do know of the events to unfold and could be the key to defeating his master.

All he needs is to keep you at his side. So he’ll allow you this much freedom.

“Oh come on, you. You can’t seriously think that after everything. Our camp’s pretty well maintained because of ‘em, not to mention the connections we’ve been able to get!” She fortifies her statement by knocking on her chest, the engine humming within feels lighter and newer since you’ve informed her of the tiefling blacksmith at the grove.

He hums in response, returning to reading his book as he thinks about his growing hunger. He’ll have to hunt soon enough. While your positive reputation occasionally reflects on him by proxy, it can also reflect negatively due to the alleged nature of your relationship. If he wants the journey to a way of understanding the tadpoles to be a more comfortable one, he has to at least prevent their trust in him from diminishing.

Night falls later than he’d have liked, having waited for everyone to be asleep so that he may prowl the forest for sustenance.

The rest were sound asleep in their bedroll as the skirmish from earlier on in the day had proven to be sufficiently tiring. The crackling fire surely brings a lulling warmth that he supposes he’ll have to miss out on for a while.

As he begins to slink off into the darkness, he looks back to gauge his surroundings and catches your form from across the settlement. It seems you were tallying away the items in the shared chest and double-checking to see that everything is checked and balanced with your records.

Your shoulders jump at his suddenly standing form, but try to understand his intentions. You mouth, “where?” with a very confused face, to which he responds with a simple shushing motion and waits for your acknowledgement.

You nod slowly, and he holds your gaze before sneaking off once again.

‘He’s coming back, right?’ You wondered. The progression of your experience now in comparison to the game was vastly different, and you didn’t know if all scenes, or only some, would present themselves in this world. You assume he planned to hunt, and while you trust his abilities, you want to make sure he’s attended to properly should he be harmed in any way.

So after retrieving a few potions, a journal, and a pencil, you stashed them in a satchel and positioned yourself at the base of the tree in the direction he left in. You weren’t particularly sleepy tonight, and planned to pass the time in wait of your companion.

There wasn’t much to do in this century to keep yourself entertained. The only things you’ve found so far were a few instruments and all manners of journals and inks.

The inkpot that you picked up appeared to be red this time. The game of, “which ink dye will I get this time?” will have to be the most of your entertainment for now. Not all too different from home, you suppose. And while writing keeps your mind at bay, illustrating all manners of wildlife have proven to be quite the fun exercise.

You’ve made a few notes on creatures that you and your company have encountered. The visual elements of a drawing allowed you and the others to keep track of materials that could be salvaged from them, and their resistances to certain attacks.

Though as much as you liked depicting such lifeforms in paper, you’ve come to be very interested in portraying your vampire friend.

Evidence of your interest present in the pages filled with his likeness as you search for an unmarked page. You’ve made a few of the others, yes, but anyone who would gain access to your journal would surely see which member of the group you favor more.

You continued to draw, and occasionally write, on the parchment as you waited for Astarion to come back. All sense of time evading you as you focus on the task at hand.

A perfect opportunity for a tired rogue to surprise an unsuspecting human.

“And what are you still doing up, little one?” He appears from behind the very tree you rested against, causing you to spill a bit of ink on your thumb.

You clicked your tongue, not at all annoyed by the character but by your absentmindedness and now stained appendage.

“Sorry, I was just waiting for you.” You sealed the inkpot, and gathered your materials. Effectively, but unknowingly, hiding your work from peering eyes that were the same deep red as your finger.

“I’m very flattered, darling. But couldn’t you wait until morning? I'm sure this couldn’t have been all too important, yes?” He gestures to your satchel, referring to your journal, but you misinterpreted it as him asking for your medical supplies.

“Oh, that depends. Are you hurt, by any chance? I stayed awake in case you might've needed help tending to yourself.” You opened the pouch to reveal its contents to him, your stained thumb in full view.

The sight makes him sigh out, but is thankful for your offered service.

“I’m alright, nothing of interest happened while I was away.” He considers telling you about the nature of his little…'escapade.' He's unaware if you are of his condition, and he doesn’t wish to out himself if not necessary to avoid possible conflict. So he settles for advising you to rest.

“We need you well rested, my dear. You sleep. I’ll keep watch.” The dialogue is familiar, and you can’t stop yourself from letting a small laugh out as you responded with an equally familiar line

“Thank you. I’ll sleep better for that.” You lower your head as you usually do in gratitude.

“The pleasure is all mine.” He mirrors your gesture, albeit in a way that is most appropriate for someone of his character. “Sweet dreams.”

You walked back to the chest. Returning the potions and ink you’ve plucked from the supply, but keeping the rest of the pouch’s materials with you as you turn in for the night. Awaiting the promise of further study that a new day typically makes.

As Astarion is left with his own thoughts, a sour taste still in his mouth from his earlier meal, he thinks about the man in the journal you kept. He did not see much, only a vague outline of the figure. He thinks about who, or what, it could have been but dismisses the thought rather quickly.

He has no time for a mysterious person with hair less perfect than his own, touching his untainted locks as he does.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Thank you everyone for your interest in the series!! As per the request of some, I'll now be adding a taglist!

Thank you to @rey26, @shyminnie07, @lynnloveshobi, @iggee-rose, @automnepoet, and @tiannamortis for asking to be tagged!!

#astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion x mc #baldur's gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader isekai(?)#aware!astarion #though I guess not so aware--#lol

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sorcerous-caress · 7 months

Note

Okay as great as crybaby!tav is we really glossed over the potential of mommy!Tav. I may be a smidge bias because that’s a lot like my tav, as she’s so damn determined to take care of her friends and was a baker before she was an adventurer so she’s constantly just doting on the companions offering them pastries. It’s a little self indulgent but My Tav has a little quirk that she grew up food insecure and just absolutely refuses to eat until she knows everyone else has eaten because she can’t bear the thought of any of her friends potentially going hungry. She’s normally very submissive and sweetly to all of them but no amount of begging, discipline or concern will break her because she just cares so damn much. Could you write the dom mom squad™️ reacting too something like that, who tries to comfort them? Who is incensed that she doesn’t believe they can provide? Who gets so hung up on the fact she’s being stubborn they forget the original issue?

A submissive mommy who can cook and give good hugs will literally fix 90% of the gang here, unironiclly.

Reacting to a very motherly Reader

[Bg3 women, fluff, dom mommies, afab!reader, fem pronouns, sub!reader ]

Karlach would relish in your dotting.

During her life in the hells, she was both touch starved and food starved for so long. You being there to encourage her with the pep talks, headpats, and occasional pie is everything she has ever dreamed of and more.

As much as she wants to be the one to take care of you, she can't help but let relish in you fussing over her. The coddling, the comfort, and the constant attention are slowly frying her brain from how happy she is.

Did she die and go to heaven?

She becomes very protective of you, never lets you carry heavy stuff, and always asks if you need her to bring you ingredients or something during her errand runs. No, no, you don't have to tire your pretty little legs. Just stay in camp all sweet and pretty while she goes out and brings you everything you need.

If you didn't know any better, you'd think she's subconsciously treating you like her stay at home wife.

She really likes hovering around while you cook, watching you work attentively and sometimes begging for a sample taste with her puppy eyes.

And yes you being the one feeding her those samples is very important, it enhances the taste a lot.

It might take her a while to notice the fact that you were always the last one to eat. Or how you immediately offered your plate if someone else wanted seconds.

She thinks it's very sweet at first but slowly grows more and more concerned at your well-being.

I mean, if she had to, she would sit on your lap to prevent you from getting up as she hands you a plate of food. Your stern talk will just make her feel guilty and sad but she'd refuse to let you get up.

As much as she loves nothing more than to obey her mommy, sometimes she also needs to take care of her mommy like she takes care of her.

Minthara would admire your ways.

Tenderness and love were never words that anyone in her culture used to describe a mother, an ilhar. No, they tend to fall more on the brutal and disciplinary side.

An ilhar meant authority, control, and order. To defy her is to commit a sin. To show weakness in front of her is even worse.

She is reminded by that cultural difference whenever someone describes you as motherly.

The only thing you had in common with the matrons of the underdark was that underlying strength. That unbreakable will hidden so deep inside you, the urge to survive at any cost and defend your subordinates. She admired it greatly.

You were very strong deep down, strong to be truly worthy of the description of motherly. That kind of strength that the males will never understand, the kind of strength that nurtured even more strength.

So when a person like you showered her in hugs, kisses, and even brushed and styled her hair for her from time to time, how could she ever be ungrateful and say no?

You were generous and kind even when you had no need to be, you were selfless to a concerning degree.

She had to put a stop to that.

Minthara respects you too much to use any of the punishments or disciplinary ways that her matrons taught her. She will talk to you like an equal because that's what she sees you as.

She will be very patient with you. Stopping you when your self sacrifices become too much for your health to bear, Reminding you that you also require as much food and rest as the rest of them.

She'll teach you to relay on her slowly, as gentle as she possibly can be. Which...isn't very gentle, honestly, but she is genuinely trying her best.

Jaheira feels like you complete her.

As an actual mother to so many children, Jaheira still never truly grasped the whole motherly vibe people keep preaching about. Her kids are safe, fed, cleaned, and trained in combat. Isn't that enough?

So what it if she was absent on missions a lot, need I remind you that her line of work concers the safety of the whole world? What kind of mother would she be if she let the whole world, which included her kids, end just because she picked to stay at home and colour with her youngest.

She knows it doesn't excuse it. Give her a break. She is at the end of her age and hasn't had someone by her side since in a long while.

That's why when you suddenly appear in her life with all of the qualities she was severely lacking in, she almost thinks it's too good to be true.

...you almost remind her of a certain someone she lost long ago. You're just as soft and caring to others. Ironically enough people also underestimate a lot because of your kindness too.

She is drawn to you, like a moth to a flame.

Jaheira can't help it. You shine with radiance, and she hasn't felt warmth in so long.

The first few days she brings her kids home-cooked meals, they immediately hold a knife to her throat as they demand this doppelganger tell them where their real mother is.

But after some very awkward conversations, and having to bring you into her house as actual proof. They realised that their mother's stone heart can still beat after all apparently.

Shadowheart tries to play it cool, fails.

She has an edgy mysterious aura she needs to keep, and you're making it very hard for her. How is she supposed to be this dark, cool cleric of Shar when you keep gifting her these hand-knitted pastel sweaters with the most loving look in your eyes.

Of course she will wear them, she isn't heartless.

She's really trying not to show how touched she is when you look for her during dinner at camp to make sure she got her plate. She can't help the blush on her ears when you wipe some food from the corner of her mouth.

She's mean to people on your behalf when they're rude to you or try to take advantage of your submissiveness. Actually she is just mean to people in general if she doesn't like the way they look at you.

Loves taking naps on your lap, absolutely adores when you play with her hair or braid it. Your thighs are the perfect pillows for her to rest her head on and just forget about the outside world and her mission for a while.

She saves the best wine she finds to share it with you later, or the best sweets or fancy jucies if you don't drink. She had to defend her stash from both Gale and Wyll wandering hands, absolutely refusing all of their offers or begging for some of that fancy cheese or that perfectly aged wine bottle.

You're the only person she ever shares it with. She doesn't even want anything in return. She just loves seeing you happy and relaxed every once in a while. You always take care of them, so it's about time that someone takes care of you too.

Laezel has killed people for disrespecting you.

And she'll do it fucking again. These worms forgot their place. She doesn't even care how little their offence is, just efficiently ending their miserable life.

Why do you have a look of disappointment on your face? She did them a favour. She even made it painless and quick to compromise for your feelings.

Chk. Your softness will be the end of you. Be grateful that she is here to prevent that from ever happening.

You threaten not to take her with you on errand runs anymore if she doesn't put her sword away? You really think you can survive without her?

...okay yeah actually you can. You make a really valid point.

If it was anyone else she'd have taken that request as an insult on her honor, but since it's you...

Fine. She will listen for now.

And maybe if you keep making more of those faerun dishes, she will find it easier to listen to you. Especially the apple pie ones.

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lurkingshan · 2 months

Text

Unknown Episode 6

Well, we wanted them to bring the pain, and my god did they do it. If you had any remaining doubt that this show knows exactly what it's doing with this story, this episode surely put it to rest. There were so many excellent scenes this week, and not all of them are strictly from the source material. I'm going to walk through the episode by favorite moments, because there is so much worthy of discussion here.

That first scene between Qian and Yuan, when Qian put his hand on Yuan's face and expressed his worry, was original to the show, and it got me right in the heart. It is exhausting to love someone you know won't love you back in the same way, and Yuan has been crumbling under the burden of trying to restrain his feelings while staying close to Qian. That Qian is both the source of his comfort and his agony makes it all so much harder, and Qian's blinders to Yuan's feelings means he is constantly making it worse for Yuan without meaning to.

I also loved the whole sequence at the H.O.T. party, from Yuan arriving sad and sick and vulnerable only to see Feng Ning getting cozy with his brother, to Qian knowing instantly that something was wrong with Yuan and becoming distracted, to Qian and Feng Ning's chat clearing up their relationship and the show allowing her to be awesome and not at all villainous about it, to Qian following Yuan into the backroom for the confrontation. It was a short sequence but it all built masterfully to the moment we've been waiting for since episode 1.

And what a scene that was. I loved that it began with Qian trying to care for Yuan like he always does. He is at a work event but he cannot focus on anything else until he knows Yuan is okay. But Yuan has hit his limit while his guard was down, and it all finally comes spilling out in the worst way possible. The emotions of this scene were perfect--Qian was truly shocked, deeply upset, and importantly, betrayed by Yuan crossing this boundary and imploding their relationship. And Yuan is also feeling upset and betrayed, because he has always counted on Qian to accept him no matter what, and in this moment, Qian failed him by rejecting him in a way he never has before. They are both clearly devastated to have this relationship ruined because for both of them, it is the most important one in their lives.

It's not surprising that Qian goes into full avoidance mode in the aftermath; he has no idea how to navigate his conflicting instincts. He doesn't want to reject Yuan and in fact it hurts him deeply to do so, but he can't accept him either. He's too shell shocked and angry to return to caretaking, but the guilt is clearly eating at him. So he hides, and finds a way to keep avoiding it by sending Yuan away. And this led to two more fantastic scenes, because this show cares about all its characters and the entire family unit, not just the two leads.

First, San Pang and Yuan. I love that despite making many mistakes and ultimately accelerating the implosion between the brothers, San Pang is not intentionally being malicious here. He is genuinely trying to help because he loves both Qian and Yuan, he doesn't want Qian to be hurt by Yuan's feelings, and he is clearly hoping Yuan can move on from it if he intervenes. Yuan knows this too, which is why he does not hate him despite his interference, and why he feels comfortable pushing San Pang to explain why his love for Qian is such a bad thing. I love that the show went here, and that San Pang couldn't come up with a logical reason why it's wrong. It just feels wrong to him, and isn't that the case with so much cultural taboo?

Second, I love this show so much for not forgetting Lili in all of this. Her increasing anxiety and fear at seeing her brothers' relationship fall apart without understanding why was so heartbreaking. This is her family, and she has had her own very rough childhood and survived parental abandonment too, and suddenly everything is blowing up and no one will explain it to her. Yuan clearly doesn't want to leave her anymore than he does Qian, but at this point he's not being left with much choice. And Qian is not in a headspace to offer her any explanation or comfort. I'm glad her pain was not overlooked.

The way this episode ended, with Yuan setting off for a lonely stint abroad, and Qian not even giving him a proper goodbye, was the final touch of heartbreak. Qian loves his brother so much, and I think he'll regret sending him away so coldly when he is finally able to process what happened here--he may already be starting to regret it, judging by the forlorn look on his face as he leaned in his doorway recalling their memories together. I was glad that at least he left Yuan a token to take with him; he can't face him right now, but he does care. Some time apart will likely do them some good, but in the meantime there will be a lot of loneliness in both their lives. This show hurts so good.

#unknown the series #taiwanese bl #shan shouts into the void

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