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me-and-your-husband · 1 year

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yours truly and forever || j. miller

summary: you find ellie and joel in need of help, desperately. you take care of the two, when affection for joel creeps up on you and you can’t shake it. he can’t stay, but maybe, if you don’t think too hard about it, that won’t matter.

an extension from the end of episode six, “kin”.

warnings: female reader, kinda reference to the events of the game, so potential spoilers for the season i guess?, angst, smut, smut with feels, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink (?), half proofread, not as feral as what i usually write? kinda soft sex. let me know if i missed anything.

word count: 5.6k (i think this is officially my longest fic???)

A/N: episode six destroyed me on a different level. didn’t stop my thirst tho. also, i am NOT a medical professional so the terminology and stuff is probably not correct. tried my best.

here’s my masterlist if you’d like to read more of my work!

“I think we’re safe.” Joel’s weak body slumped off the horse, falling into the snow. “Joel, no, no, no! Shit,” Ellie cursed as she dismounted the horse and scrambled to him. She called his name to no avail, using his hands to cover the festering wound on his abdomen. “Joel, open your eyes. Open your eyes. Joel, you gotta get up,” she pleaded. Her voice dropped to a whisper, “I can’t fucking do this without you. I don’t know where the fuck I’m going, or what the fuck I’m gonna do. Joel! Please. Joel, please.”

She sat fisting his collar, pleading for him to open his eyes, when she heard the sound of hooves shuffling through the snow. She first thought Shimmer had run off. Whipping around, the horse was right where she left it. The panic that was already coursing through her became more potent. She reached for her gun, ducking in the snow next to Joel. She could almost taste her fear on her tongue as a figure on a black horse trotted over to Shimmer. Reaching out a hand to stroke Shimmer’s muzzle, the figure said, “Hey, girl. Where’d you come from?” It was a woman’s voice. Ellie clutched her gun, just the way Joel had taught her. The woman dismounted her horse, boots crunching in the snow as she walked around Shimmer. When her gaze trailed down to the young girl with a gun pointing at her, she brought her hands up slowly, non-threateningly.

“Stay back!” Ellie shouted. She couldn’t see much of the woman, a bandana covering her neck, reaching under her eyes. She had a hat on, one of the ones Maria had worn in Jackson. She was well bundled for the weather, Ellie noted. Must live around here.

“I’m not here to hurt you. Just saw a stray horse. Thought someone might need help, is all,” you said, hands still in the air. “And it looks like I was right.”

Ellie glanced towards Joel. “How do I know you’re not gonna kill us? Fucking eat us, or something?” She spat.

You laughed, “I’m not going to eat you. That’s what my cattle and crops are for.” You told her your name. “I’ve got a house just a few miles up. I was doing a perimeter check before I found you, actually. It’s secure. I can help your dad there.”

Ellie didn’t bother correcting you. Instead, she contemplated taking you up on your offer. Well, if she didn’t go with you, Joel was dead. If Joel died, she might as well be dead too. “Fine.”

“Will you lower your gun so I can help him?”

She put her gun down, watching as you calmly moved towards Joel, hiking him up over your shoulder and situating him on top of your horse. You sat behind him, his weight fully leaning against you, as Ellie mounted her horse. “This way,” you said, pressing your calf into your horse’s ribcage to get her to go. Ellie followed close behind as you led her to your home.

“Why’re you helping us?” Ellie asked when you were about halfway there.

You took a few seconds to answer. “There was a time when I needed someone to help me, but nobody would. This way, come on.”

You put the passcode into the keypad, opening the gate, gesturing for Ellie and Shimmer to go in first. You followed her, instructing her towards the large white house that sat in the middle of the property. When you got to the porch, you dismounted the horse and placed the man back over your shoulder, climbing up the steps. Ellie dismounted too, looking for some place to tie the lead.

“Don’t worry about that. Fence goes all around the place. Come help me open this door,” you said, occupied with trying not to let him fall from your shoulders. His frame was much bigger than yours, making it difficult to balance. Ellie twisted the nob and pushed the door open. You found your couch immediately, laying him down as gently as you could, shoving a pillow under his head. “Stay here with him. I’m gonna go grab my kit.”

She waited there with Joel until you returned, squeezing his hand, praying for him to wake up. Praying that they were safe here.

When you returned, you were carrying a giant leather bag. She had expected a simple first aid kit. At her puzzled expression, you said, “Normally, I’m doing surgery on the horses or cows, not men.” She nodded in understanding.

As you set up with bedpans, scalpels, scissors, gauze, anything you might need, Ellie took a moment to look around. Hung on your walls were portraits of anything and everything. She’d always loved art, never having the time to really explore it herself. This place didn’t look like it was home to someone who was gonna slaughter them. “I’m Ellie,” she said, making you turn from your stool by the couch. “That’s Joel.”

You gave a reassuring smile. “Nice to meet you, Ellie.” Now, you pulled down the fabric from your mouth and threw your hat down on the floor, shucking your jacket off too, hoping it would make you less intimidating to the young girl. “Might wanna get comfortable. This’ll take awhile.

Ellie made herself a home on the loveseat adjacent to the couch Joel was on, taking her jacket off and laying it next to her backpack. “How did this even happen?” you asked as you sanitized your tools.

“He got stabbed,” she said, looking down at her hands. “He didn’t even notice at first. He…” she trailed off. You gave her a look of understanding.

You cleaned the area and got to work. You were happy that he was unconscious. All you had was horse tranquillizer, and you were almost positive that it would kill him. Joel twitched and squirmed a little, but you were calm as you worked.

Ellie’s eyelids were drooping and her head was falling when she heard you say, “All done,” as you wiped your bloody hands on a rag. She got up to get a look at Joel. His bloodied shirt and jacket were off, showing the wound on his abdomen, all stitched up. “See that area around the wound?” You said, fingers gently grazing over the skin. “It’s pink. Means there’s probably an infection. I’ll see what I have, but I don’t think I have enough antibiotics,” you said as you cleaned the blood from your tools. You saw a look of disappointment in her eyes.

“But,” you started, “there’s an old pharmacy a mile or two from here. I can go tomorrow. See what they have.” She nodded, a hopeful look in her eyes. “Come on, help me get him upstairs.”

The two of you took him to one of the guest bedrooms, laying him down on the bed. You slid his thick jacket back on, but left it unzipped so you could easily redress his wound. “I can show you to the other guest room. Mind, I don’t usually have visitors, so it’s-”

“No,” Ellie cut you off. She flushed. “Thanks, but I’m staying with him.” You nodded. She didn’t want him to wake up alone.

“Alright, then. There are blankets in the closet over there,” you pointed. “My room is across the hall, at the end. If he wakes up or something is wrong, come get me. I’m leaving for the pharmacy at dawn, so help yourself to anything in the kitchen. You can shower if you want, too. If he wakes when I’m gone tomorrow, don’t leave. I’ll need to give him those antibiotics as soon as I get back.” She nodded. You began to walk out of the room, but she stopped you by calling your name. You turned.

“Earlier, you said that there was a time when you needed help, and nobody would give it to you…?”

You sighed. “A while back, about ten years ago, before I settled here, I was travelling with some people and my little brother. He ended up getting shot. His leg. I couldn’t stop the bleeding and…they just left us there. Left him there to die,” you swallowed, looking down at your feet. She looked at you, offering a sad smile. “Night, Ellie. Get some sleep.”

You returned around noon the next day with the antibiotics for Joel. Announcing yourself when you walked in, Ellie came stumbling down the stairs. You took in her wet hair and changed clothes. There was hope in her eyes, but also urgency. “He woke up! Just for a little while. He was pretty out of it, but he asked where we were,” she said.

“And what’d you tell him?” You said as you took your outerwear off and grabbed your bag with the antibiotics.

“I told him we were safe. He wasn’t awake long enough to give him the full story, but now he’s all sweaty, and mumbling and shit and-”

“Shit,” you cursed, rushing up the stairs past the girl.

“Wait, what is it?” she called after you.

“Sounds like he’s got a fever. Could have delirium, too,” you said as you entered the room Joel was in. He was clammy, sweating, chest heaving, body radiating an ungodly heat, mumbling incoherencies. You moved his jacket to the side. “Looks like the infection is spreading,” you mumbled. Grabbing the syringe and bottle from your bag, you filled the syringe, sticking it into the pink flesh of Joel’s stomach.

“He’ll need another dose in a few hours. It probably won’t kick in until the second or third dose,” you said, wiping the sweat from his head and neck with a rag. You turned to Ellie, who’s eyes were fixed on Joel, yet distant. “Hey, did you eat yet?” She shook her head. “Let’s get you something to eat, then,” you said as you led her to the kitchen.

Four days passed before Joel woke up. Four days spent mostly at his bedside, reading some book in between administering his doses. Making sure Ellie was fed. On the second day, Joel woke briefly again, panicking. However, Ellie was able to calm him down, reassuring him that they were safe. On the third day, you got through to Ellie a bit more.

“So, what brought you two this far out?” you asked innocently, closing your book and resting it on your lap. She seemed to freeze.

“We, uh…we were looking for Joel’s brother. We ended up near the university and got ambushed,” she said. She was lying. That was fine. You couldn’t really blame her. You hummed in response.

It was silent for a few minutes before she spoke again, “He’s not my dad, you know.”

You offered her a soft smile. “Okay.” You went back to reading your book.

On the fourth day, when Joel woke up, you were in the kitchen doing the dishes left from your lunch with Ellie. A few hours ago you had re-dressed his wound and given him another round of antibiotics. The angry pink of his skin was subsiding and he was no longer feverish, resting peacefully on the bed. You hummed to yourself as you scrubbed the plates in the soapy water.

Hearing two voices from upstairs, you dried your hands on a dish rag and made your way upstairs. The deep, gruff voice halted as your footsteps sounded out against the hallway floor.

“It’s safe, I promise. I trust her.” Ellie’s voice, pleading. A grunt.

You turned the corner with a polite smile, resting against the doorframe. You took the man in, greying hair dishevelled, sat up, staring daggers at you.

“Good to see you awake,” you said, telling him your name.

“How long was I out for?” he asked, his voice a gruff southern accent, but still laced with distrust. He was on edge.

“Five days.”

He looked at Ellie, who nodded. He groaned, eyes training back to you. “Where’s my stuff?”

“Ellie has it all in the other room. Your horse is in my stable.”

“Then we’ll be on our way,” he said, attempting to get himself up, a groan of pain ripping through his chest as you walked forward, pushing him back down by the chest.

“Hold on, cowboy. You were stabbed. You have an infection. You’re in no shape to go back out there. Besides, there’s a storm rolling in soon.” You reached to the nightstand, grabbing the bottle of antibiotics and the syringe.

He looked at Ellie. “She’s telling the truth. She found us when you fell off the horse. She brought us back here. Stitched you up and shit. She even went out to get you those antibiotics. She’s the reason the both of us aren’t dead. She’s been feeding me and everything,” Ellie said, then quieter, “I trust her.”

Joel looked you up and down. You held up the syringe, asking silent permission to give him another dose. “Fine,” he grunted.

It took a few weeks for Joel’s infection to heal and for the winter blizzard to pass. After about a week of bedrest, as prescribed by you, Joel was walking around with Ellie, going to the dining room for meals rather than you bringing them to the bed, and even helping you with small tasks. The truth is, Joel felt indebted to you for saving his life. For taking care of Ellie. For going so far out of your way to bring them safety. After a while, he was able to trust you.

But there was more. As he helped you put away the dishes, your fingers would brush as he passed you a plate, the air between you two going still. You’d be silent for a few moments, continuing your task, before picking conversation back up as though nothing happened. You’d be out in the stable together, brushing the horses. One of them would whinny and you’d genty laugh. He found your laugh infectious, finding a smile spreading across his face and a chuckle falling from his lips. When you caught his eye, he’d flush, looking back at Shimmer. She’d nudge him with her muzzle, as if to prompt him to say something more to you. He never would. Or maybe it was the time you were eating dinner with him and Ellie, pouring yourself and Joel wine. You had reached over to give him his glass, knocking yours onto yourself in the process. You had cursed, lifting your shirt over your head, white undershirt untouched by the stain. You didn’t miss the way Joel looked away, warmth rising up his neck. Ellie didn’t miss it either, as she held in a laugh and nudged him suggestively, lifting her eyebrows. You didn’t say anything.

Between the lingering touches, the fleeting glances, and the burning moments, you knew that there was something unspoken that hung thick in the air between you and Joel.

After three months, Joel was fully healed. The storm lasted about a month, the last winds finally subsiding. Ellie had slept in. It was just you and Joel having coffee. You leaned against the counter. He sat at the table, facing you. You were making light and easy conversation, as it usually was between you two.

He cleared his throat and looked into the liquid in his mug. “We’ll be outta your hair in about a week, if that’s okay. Don’t wanna overstay our welcome,” he said, avoiding eye contact. You began to protest, but he cut you off, “You’ve already done so much for us,” his voice was like honey, thick and smooth. There was some kind of resistance mixed in with it. “Don’t worry about us, darlin’.” The name rolled easily off his tongue. It was a recent development, always something endearing. You figured it was just his way of showing he trusted you.

You huffed. There was no arguing with him when his mind was set on something. “Alright, then. Take any supplies you need. We’ll load up your horse the night before you leave,” you said, pouring the rest of your coffee down the drain and leaving the kitchen. Joel caught the hint of…something, in your voice. Sadness? Anger? Loneliness? He recalled a conversation he heard you having with Ellie about two weeks back.

“Doesn’t it get lonely out here? All by yourself all the time?”

A brief silence. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

Joel thought he was doing what was best by ignoring the searing touches and stolen glances, ignoring the feelings in the pit of his stomach. He thought that growing attached to you would only hurt the both of you. He knew he was right, but he began to wonder if you might be worth the pain.

That night, after you had bid Joel goodnight and Ellie was already asleep, you sat on your bed, in your thoughts, when soft knocking came from your door. “Come in,” you called out. The door opened and you looked up to see Joel. There was something behind his eyes that wasn’t there before. Guilt?

He approached you slowly, “May I?” You nodded. He took a seat next to you at the edge of your bed.

How was he supposed to start?

“I, uh,” he sighed. “I’m not very good at this. And I know we aren’t leavin’ just yet. But I wanted to, uh, thank you. For helpin’ me. Us. We’d both be dead if it weren’t for you. And for your hospitality.” He looked at his hands resting on his lap. “You’re a real good person for that.”

You just shrugged and offered him a tight-lipped smile. Silence hung thick in the air between you two.

He cleared his throat, getting up from the bed. “Well, I guess I’ll get-”

“Why won’t you stay?” Your eyes met his, brows furrowed, something anxious brewing behind them.

“I’ve gotta get the girl to her people,” was the only thing he could offer. He felt at a loss. You just nodded, standing in front of him.

“Am I ever gonna see you again?” It was more of a plea than a question.

Joel swallowed. “I don’t know.”

Your gaze drifted down to the floor. “What happens if you get hurt again, and there’s nobody like me there to help you?”

In an unexpected move, both by you and him, he grabbed your face with his hands. “I’ll be just fine, darlin’.” Your hands slid atop his.

“You don’t know that.”

He began to lean in. “I don’t know,” he said, his breath warm across your lips. “All I know is that now I’ve got somethin’ to come back for, someone I-”

“Don’t tell me you want me,” you cut him off. “Don’t tell me you want me now, when you’re about to leave.” He closed his eyes. Your hands fell from his. You moved out of his hold. “I can’t do this.”

The loss of his hands on your skin felt sore, wrong, but you knew that if you let him touch you, he’d hook you in, and it would hurt all the more to say goodbye in one week’s time.

“Please,” you whispered, eyes closed, a single tear streaming down your cheek. You could feel the warmth of his body leave, hear him close the door gently behind him.

You didn’t rest much that night.

Every day for a week, you rose early, making breakfast for Ellie and settling back in your room to sit with yourself. Peering out of the window every day, you couldn’t help but stare out at the snowy planes of Colorado, taking in the austere, frozen environment you’d settled in. The desolate feel of the earth around you only made you realize how lonely you had been before Joel and Ellie had showed up, longing for something, anything, but always left unfulfilled. In Ellie’s bright smile and Joel’s unspoken touches, you thought that you might’ve landed a few companions who could keep your soul warm in the winter. It felt like you had lost something when you realized that wasn’t the case.

When you ventured throughout the house to shower, cook, or do household work, you found yourself tiptoeing, almost like you didn’t want to get caught. You savoured your conversations with Ellie, but you kept your words to Joel down to necessity. Short responses to his questions, shorter replies to yours. Never touching, in fear that the friction, like electricity, would spark something that neither of you could stop. Holding your breath when he was close to you. Avoiding eye contact. Never giving more than you had to. You both thought it would be easier to part this way, the fire growing in your insides unsatiated.

The night before he was set to leave, you found Joel in the kitchen, rough fingers silently brushing over a map laid out on the table.

He jumped at the sound of your voice, “I’m gonna go get your horse set with the things you’ll need.” He turned to you.

“I’ll come give you a hand,” he said, downing the last of his coffee and grabbing his coat.

The walk to the stable was thick with tension, the dense silence lingering between the two of you. The sun was out, casting the image of your shadows on the crunchy snow. When you reached the large door, you slid it open, letting him go first. You still couldn’t look at him.

You trailed behind him as he moved towards Shimmer, grabbing her saddle and slinging it over her back, fastening it. You knew Joel carried all of his guns on his person, so you began filling the saddlebags with medical supplies, ammo, water, cord, tape, anything you had stockpiled that might help him and Ellie get to where they needed to.

“All set,” you said, fingers running over Shimmer’s mane.

“Thank you,” Joel breathed. He was looking at you, searching for your eyes. You could feel it.

You nodded. “Don’t worry about it.” A few moments of rigid silence. “Leaving at dawn?” The question fell past your lips before you could think about it.

You saw him nod out of your peripherals. “Yeah.”

You give a nod, lips pursed. Still looking at Shimmer. Still avoiding his gaze.

“Will you look at me?” He said suddenly, voice demanding, but ultimately soft.

You didn’t obey, looking at your feet instead. “Why?”

“It’s been a week. I know you’re givin’ me the cold shoulder, but at least look at me. Don’t act like you hate me. You’re killin’ me, darlin’.”

You blew out a puff of warm air. “If I look at you…” you started, nearly losing your gall. “If I look at you, I’ll forget that I’m trying to let you go.”

The words were thick, heavy. They hung between you two as if they were forbidden.

“Then don’t let me go,” he said, taking a step towards you.

You said his name in a warning, taking a few steps towards the door.

“You don’t have to let me go. I know I’m never gonna stop thinkin’ ‘bout you, honey. And I can’t promise that you’ll see me again, but I’m damn well goin’ to try to make it back to you.”

You sniffled, “You don’t mean that.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“I do. I mean it with all of myself,” he said, moving forward to press his forehead against yours. “Let me show you.”

Once again, you could feel his breath on your lips. His were just inches from yours, almost touching, but never quite close enough. You finally looked at him, tears brimming your eyes.

“I can’t give you much, but let me give you what I can,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his forehead into yours harder, more desperately.

At that, you broke. “Okay,” you breathed.

He took that as permission to lean himself into you, the skin of his lips grazing yours, breath mixing with his. When he finally connected his lips to yours, it was like he breathed a warmth into your body, lighting every nerve. Your hands tangled in his hair, his cupping your face. The kiss started chaste, but became breathy and passionate. It ended with your lips red and swollen, both of you needy and desperate for something more. Always more.

The rush through the snow, through the front door and up the stairs to your bedroom was needy, your hand in his, dragging you behind him, nearly sprinting with anticipation.

As Joel was locking your bedroom door behind him, you were fisting the collar of his shirt and kissing him. Your mouth opened wider for his tongue to explore, whines muffled by his mouth. The kiss was all the things you couldn’t say, I want you, I love you, stay.

He walked you backwards into your bed, falling on top of you when your legs hit the edge. Your hands found solace in his hair, tugging just right, making him groan into your mouth. He parted from you to grab the hem of his shirt and tug it over his head. Now, your fingertips explored the expanse of his chest and soft stomach, soft pads tracing the scar that brought you to him. Kissing into your mouth, across your neck, sucking at your pulse point, his fingers grazed the hem of your shirt.

“Can I?” He asked between kisses to your collarbone. You nodded, lifting so he could pull it off.

“Take it off,” you said, left just in your bra. His fingers reached behind you to unclasp it, pulling it off and revealing your tits. He barely hesitated, taking one in his warm mouth and palming the other. Your hands fixed back in his hair, moaning. “Joel. Fuck, I need you. Please,” you whimpered. After weeks of building up the tension, of his fingers tracing your skin just for them to stop, staring at his lips and yearning, you needed him. More than anything.

Joel groaned. “Beggin’ so pretty already for me, honey,” he said as he moved down your body, undoing your belt, sliding it off with your pants and chucking them to the ground. His fingers smoothed over your panties, noticing the wet spot growing in the centre. He grinned, “Let’s see how wet you are, hmm?” Pushing the fabric to the side, he could almost moan at the sight of your drooling cunt. “Fuck,” he said, running his fingers through your slick folds, brushing your clit gently, sending a shiver shooting through your spine. “This wet already? All for me?”

When you didn’t answer, he pinched the inside of your thigh gently, “Answer, honey.”

“All for you. Only for you, Joel.” You were breathless, nearly delirious. You’d give anything for him to touch you, to put you out of your misery.

Joel eased one finger inside of you, then two, and began pumping them in and out of your slick folds. You moaned wantonly, all shame abandoned. “That’s it, pretty girl. Takin’ my fingers so well. Squeezin’ them so good. Can just imagine how you’re gonna feel wrapped ‘round my cock.”

You could feel the knot in your core get tighter and tighter every time his fingers hit that spot inside you, obscene noises coming from your cunt. He could feel you sucking his fingers in, growing tighter around him. He eased a third finger in and used his other hand, previously squeezing into your thigh, to rub circles on your clit. “Fuckfuckfuck,” you sputtered, getting closer and closer.

“That’s it, honey. Cum on my fingers. There it is,” he said as you clenched around his digits, moaning his name like it was the only word you knew. He rubbed the flesh of your thighs as you came down, kissing the supple flesh of your thighs. When you caught your breath, you pulled him back up into you.

You began to notice the firm tent pressing against you. Surely, he was begging for release, too. Who were you to deprive him of that?

“Your turn,” you said.

Flipping him over, you began to undo his belt and slide his pants off, laying your head on his thigh, when he stopped you, resting a hand on your jaw.

“Honey, if you put me in your mouth, ‘m not gonna last,” he says, slightly flushed, chest heaving just as bad as yours. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he looked similarly to how he did when he was feverish. Delirious. “Just wanna be inside you. That okay?”

“Fuck, yes,” you breathed, crawling back onto him. This time, he flipped you over, caging you between his arms. He shuffled his boxers off, his hard length springing out and hitting his lower stomach, tip weeping precum. You couldn’t help but whimper. “Fuck, you’re big.” He chuckled, flushing a little. “How’re you gonna fit inside me?”

“Relax, honey. I worked you open. Shouldn’t be too much of a stretch,” he assured you, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips. “Ready?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Need to feel you. For so long.”

He lined himself up with your entrance. You held your breath, letting it out in a moan as he sunk into your waiting cunt. He groaned when he was fully sheathed inside you, the sound coming deep from his chest.

He kissed you as you took him in, your body accommodating his length. “Move. Please,” you moaned into his mouth. He pulled out, sliding back in with the help from your slick. He set a slow but hard pace, clutching your body to his as he speared in and out of you. His lips barely left yours, sucking in each other’s moans and converting them to breath.

“So tight, fuck,” he moaned. “Already clenching around me. Feels so good around me, pretty thing.”

You moaned his name, a needy, desperate call for him to go faster. He picked up his pace, breath becoming erratic, a slight sheen of sweat breaking out across his skin.

“Not gonna last long, honey,” he groaned.

“Neither am I. Cum inside of me, please. I want all of you,” you begged, too out of it to think of the consequences. He let out an obscene moan at the request.

“Want me to fill you up, yeah?” He said as he roughly fucked into you. “Fill you up so good that it’ll still be leakin’ outta ya tomorrow?” He was delirious, almost pussy drunk. You were both chasing your release, clinging to each other like there was no tomorrow. Because there wasn’t. Not for the two of you.

“Joel, I’m…oh, fuck!” you moaned as your orgasm hit you, knocking you into hysteria.

“Right behind you, pretty girl,” he said, grunting. “You’re squeezin’ me so good,” he moaned, finally spilling into your cunt. He pulled you back into him as you both finished, moans muffled by each other’s tongues, sucking, biting, licking, kissing.

When the ecstasy ended and he could feel you squirming underneath him, he pulled out gently, taking care not to brush your clit too roughly. He watched as his cum leaked from your puffy hole, taking two fingers and shoving it back in. You whimpered a little at the contact. “I know, honey. Just makin’ sure I’m gonna stay inside of you.”

He finally laid down next to you, bringing you into his chest. You shoved your head in the crook of his neck, taking all of him in.

You didn’t have to talk about tomorrow, or think about it. You just needed to be here, in this moment with him, face nuzzled into his neck, his seed still leaking out of you.

Tomorrow could wait.

You woke like you normally do, to the rays of splendid sunlight shining in through your thin curtains. Stretching, you remembered last night. Your hand reached for the spot you left him in, finding the bed cold. The cold of the sheet travelled through your fingertips, up your arm, through your shoulder, into your chest, and hit your heart. You scrambled out of bed, throwing on whatever you could find, and scrambled downstairs.

There was no evidence that he had ever been there, except for the two pieces of paper that sat on the kitchen table.

Your breath hitched as you picked the first one up, tears threatening to spill. It was a drawing done in simple graphite. A drawing of you sitting next to Joel, who was laying in bed. She had done it when he was still feverish. In the bottom right corner, she signed:

“Thank you for everything. I know it will work out. -Ellie”

You clutched it to your heart as you picked up the second one. A letter. It read:

My girl,

I hope you can forgive me for leaving you no room for a goodbye. Part of me thought it would be easier this way, not having to think about what you were going to say, or what you should have said. The other part of me wanted to stay in that bed with you, cozied up in your arms, until the two of us were too old to get up. I want you forever.

But I made Ellie a promise a long time ago. She’s got nobody left. She’s just a girl, and I can’t leave her on her own. The guilt would eat me alive a lot quicker than any infection could. I have to get her to her people. When I’m done, I promise you that I’ll come back. I’ve marked your little farm on my map, there’s no chance of me missing it. Before you, I would’ve laughed at the idea of forever. Forever seemed like too long living in this world. Now, all I want is forever if I can spend it with you in my arms.

Thank you. For more than you know. I’ll see you soon.

Until we meet again.

Yours truly and forever,

Joel Miller

part 2

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller x reader angst #hbo's the last of us #tlou #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x reader smut #pedro pascal x reader angst #pedro pascal x reader fluff

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phoward89 · 3 months

Text

Banner by me. Dividers by @saradika

Summary: When Coriolanus signs you out of the hospital to bring you to his Corso penthouse, you see a glimpse of his dark side. Will that glimpse make you run away from him or to him?

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Possessive!Coriolanus, Obsessive!Coriolanus, DelusionalCoriolanus, Dark!Coriolanus, Soft Dark!Coriolanus?, Head Gamemaker!Coriolanus, Mentions of death, Mentions of planning murder, Mentions of cheating/infidelity (not on reader), Mentions of poison, Large age gap/difference (Coriolanus is 33 while reader is 18), Manipulation, Groping, Slapping, um...trying to think of anything else.

Here's the 2nd part of Forever & Ever, My Darling Rose. I gave the Reader a last name, Halvir, in this just to make some scenarios etc a bit easier to write. But the Readers first name is up to you lovely and wonderful readers to come up with.

Story Masterlist

Chapter 2:

Coriolanus marched towards the nurses’ station with a haughty airs to him. He gave off an entitled, but dangerous aurora that had the nurses shaking in their white nursing hats. He'd threatened to kill every single one of their loved ones (friends, family, pets, estranged family, etc) if something happened to you and the nurses were terrified that he'd make good on that promise. Considering you went out of your mind with a nightmare and cornered yourself into your room, resulting in him being called there to calm you down, the nurses were fearful.

The nurses quickly grabbed their charts and scurried off, excuses that they had to check on patients echoed into the air, as the head gamemaker got closer to the front desk. Patients that are most likely asleep since it was nearly 3 in the morning. Yes, the nurses left their charge nurse behind to deal with the wrath of Coriolanus Snow. The nurse assigned to you was the first to bolt.

“I'm signing Y/N Halvir out since your staff is too incompetent to properly care for a victor.” Coriolanus firminly told the charge nurse as he came to a stop right at the desk she was sitting behind, all by herself since the staff abandoned her to face a fate worse than death alone.

The charge nurse refused to meet Coriolanus’ eye while tentatively informing him, “Head Gamemaker Snow, sir, it's ill advised to sign her out. She hasn't been checked by a doctor and she seems to be dealing with some post traumatic stress.”

Wrong Answer. Coriolanus was outraged that some old nurse had the gall to tell him that he couldn't do what he felt best for his, HIS, darling rose. What did that old hag know? If it wasn't for her calling him, you would've hyperventilated and passed out from sheer fear in the corner of your room.

A private room that he was footing the bill for, by the way.

Well, looks like he'll just have to make the charge nurse’s loved ones disappear for her lack of skills tending to you. He'll also find out who was your assigned nurse, make that useless twit disappear along with her loved ones. Well, the Citadel could always use some more lab rats to conduct mutt experiments on.

“It may be ill advised, but I assure you that I am signing Y/N Halvir out of this hospital and taking her with me, where she'll be properly cared for.” He calmly told the nurse as his cold blue eyes cut her down. Leaning down over the desk, causing him to be face to face with the old nurse, Coriolanus hissed, “Your insubordination has won your son, a doctor, and his family a transfer to District 6. Seems like the hospitals there are in need of more doctors due to the rise in morphling addiction amongst the district citizens. It's such a shame that both of your grandchildren, a boy and a girl, will now be eligible for the Hunger Games as District 6 citizens.”

The charge nurse shook with fear as she pleaded, “Please, Head Gamemaker Snow, don't do that. Please, don't be so harsh.” Quickly, she worked on her computer while adding in, “I'm printing out the discharge paperwork now, just don't send my family away to District 6.”

Coriolanus just stood up straight, his full height of 6’0 towering over the charge nurse as she sat at the desk, typing and clicking away at the computer. He didn't say a word to her, just stared her down with cold, dead, blue eyes.

The charge nurse swallowed down a sick feeling that was welling up while rising from her seat to scurry over to the printer. She silently prayed to the printer, which was growling louder than a feral animal, to hurry up and spit out the paperwork for your discharge.

Coriolanus grew bored waiting for the necessary paperwork for your release. So bored that he was tapping his shiny black shoes against the linoleum floor.

Click, click, click. Click, click, click. Click, click, click. Click, click, click. Click, click-

“Here’s that paperwork for you to sign.” The charge nurse told Coriolanus while hurrying over to him. Quickly she placed the paperwork on the desk before grabbing a pen from the cup on top of the desk. “And here's a pen, sir.” She practically threw the pen at him.

“Thank you, but your family's still headed to 6.” He simply said while signing and initialing the stack of paperwork he was given. It seemed a bit of an overkill in his opinion.

The nurse turned as white as a sheet upon hearing Coriolanus’ words, but she didn't dare try to fight him on it. Her family's fate was sealed by the sadistic head gamemaker, a man whose temperament was worse than his father, the late General Crassus Snow.

Once Coriolanus was finished with your paperwork, he left the front desk without so much as a thank you or a goodnight to the nurse, and returned to your room. You were sitting on the bed watching some late night rerun on Capitol tv whenever he entered your room. Looking between you and the tv, he chuckled, “You like the god awful cooking show where the chef curses out his potential staff?”

“We only get 3 channels on our tv back home in District 12 and this is one of the channels.” You explained to him while he made his way further into the room. Truthfully, you were lucky to even have a tv since you lived in the Seam. Your brother Rein and his girlfriend, Ashlie, had scrimped and saved for years to be able to buy the thing. It was small and second hand; only picked up 3 channels. The Capitol News, Capitol Movie Classics, and Capitol Channel 3. You wished there were more channels, but you were grateful for the ones you had. Most people in the Seam didn't even have that. You know that your neighbor, Corbin, and his Auntie (a mining widow) didn't even have a tv.

As Coriolanus placed your paperwork down on your side table, you stared right at the tv (as the top chef called one of his potential staff a stupid fucking donkey for burning a risotto) and honestly revealed, “Plus watching all of these chefs get cursed out and treated horribly by their potential boss reminds me that somebody out there has it worse than me. Even though I live in the Seam with my coal miner brother and his girlfriend, who's a local barmaid at the hob, nobody's ever treated me as horribly and rudely as that award winning chef treats the people competing on his show for a job in his restaurant.”

“Hmmm…” Coriolanus hummed. Standing by your side, he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear while asking, “And what of your mother?”

“I haven't seen her since she ran off when I was 5 and Rein was 15.” You flatly remarked.

“I see.” The platinum blonde man nodded. He felt rage boil in his cold, icy veins. How could somebody leave you as a child? You were so perfect, so innocent. You didn't deserve to be willingly abandoned by your mother. Oh, if he ever got a hold of that useless bitch she was dead. He'd make sure that she died a torturous death too.

“You signed me out AMA?” You asked, glancing over the form that was on your side table

“Yes, I signed you out against medical advice because the staff here is doing you, my darling rose, more harm then good. They're too incompetent to care for my Victor and you, Y/N, deserve nothing but the best care.” Moving to the wardrobe in the corner of the room, he told you, “I had your reaping dress cleaned and brought here for you when you were admitted. I thought you'd feel more comfortable in that than your uniform from the arena.”

“Thank you, Head Gam-Coriolanus. I appreciate it.” You thanked him, a bit nervous about what name to call him. In the end you decided to just call him Coriolanus, but it still felt heavy and wrong on your tongue.

“Please, just call me Coryo.” He countered while crossing the room with your simple cotton floral dress in hand. “Now let's get you out of your hospital gown and into your pretty dress so we can go home.” He suggested while coming to a stop right at your bedside.

Instead of standing and stripping naked like Coriolanus thought you'd do, you arched a brow at him instead only to ask, “Home? But I thought you were taking me to a penthouse here in the Capitol?”

“I am taking you to the Corso penthouse which is now your new home, my darling rose.” He slowly explained to you, as if you were a small child, while placing your dress down on the bed. Shaking his head, he grabbed your upper arm and pulled you to stand up.

“What the hell are you doing, Coriolanus?!” You shrieked, pulling away from him as he started to untie your hospital gown.

Grabbing you roughly by the upper arms and turning you to look at him, he stared down at you with cold, icy eyes. “I'm tired and want to go home and get some sleep. You will be a good girl and let me help you change.”

You tried to break his hold while assuring him, “I can get changed myself. You can go wait in the hall, Coriolanus.”

“No, my darling rose, you can't. Now, be a good girl and let me help you so we can get out of here.” He told you in a tone that was sickeningly sweet.

“Corio-” You began to protest, only for him to slap you across the face.

Tears welled up in your eyes as your hand automatically flew up to cradle your stinging cheek.

“I told you to be a good girl and let me help you, Y/N.” He sighed.

“You hit me…” You trailed off in shock as tears spilled down your cheeks.

“Oh, my darling rose, I didn't mean to hurt you.” The pretty platinum blonde man cooed while prying your hand away from the cheek that he’d struck in his frustrated anger. His blue eyes raked over your cheek, which was raw and red from the slap. Seeing your tears rolling hotly down your cheeks turned him on, as horrible as that sounded. Brushing his knuckles along your puffy cheekbone, that would surely bruise within an hour or so, he softly said, “I don't like brats and backtalk, Y/N. If only you were a good girl then I wouldn't have slapped you.”

His words left your mind going a mile a minute. So, wait, it was your fault he slapped you? All because you didn't want his help changing? That didn't make sense. Should it make sense?

You were drawn out of your mental musings whenever you felt Coriolanus’ tongue lap up the tears along your cheek. Your breath hitched at the action. Your felt a tightness in your chest and a fluttering in your lower belly as he tilted your face to lick the tears of your untouched cheek.

As his tongue traced your cheekbone, lapping up the salty tear stains on your skin, you felt a tingle in your core. Oh no. You can't have this reaction to him. It's wrong; he’s a married man and older than you. Hell, he's even older than your older brother.

Even though you knew being turned on by him was wrong, it didn't stop you from rubbing your thighs together.

When he pulled away from you, he gave you a lined smile and suggested, “Now that we have an understanding, let's get you in your pretty dress so we can go home.”

Your head was fuzzy with want and you had a slight ache in between your legs, so you were in no shape to protest or fight back. “Okay.” Your breath was shaky as you nodded. “Okay.”

“Seems like I have quite the effect on you, my darling rose.” Coriolanus smirked as his nose ran along your jawline. Your heartbeat was beating quickly, perhaps too quickly, while you felt heat pool in between your legs. Oh god, you've never felt like this before (yea, you've been turned on before, but not to the point where you felt uncomfortable and wanted to rip your hair out) and it both startled and excited you.

He licked the shell of your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. “I must confess, Y/N, that you also have quite the effect on me.” He whispered into your ear before pulling away and leaving you to stare up at him with shock all over your face. “Don't look so shocked, my darling. You’re very beautiful and you're resilient; a victor.”

Turning you around, he gently untied your hospital gown as if he was untying the bows to his favorite piece of lingerie. When he was done, he spun you around, nearly knocking you off balance and slid the gown off your shoulders. Your eyes darted to the floor as your breasts were exposed to him. You felt so small under his gaze and towering form as he slid the gown the rest of the way off you.

“You have such nice tits.” Coriolanus smiled in awe, lust shining in his eyes, as he began to palm your nice tits.

“Coriolanus-” You started, only for him to cut you off with the request of, “Coryo, call me Coryo.”, as he began to run his thumbs over your nipples while cupping your tits in his large, calloused hands.

“Coryo, we can't do this here. We're in my hospital room.” You told him despite his actions causing you to get even wetter then you already were between your legs.

“It's a private room, my darling rose. I paid enough for it, so I don't see the harm in us getting my money's worth.”

What the hell did he mean by that? Did he seriously want to mess around in your hospital room? Oh no. No, no, no. No. You're drawing that line at that.

Your hands wrapped around his wrist as you told him, “I just want to get out of here, Coryo. You promised to take me home, remember?”

You prayed that your words knocked some sense into him because you didn't want your first time doing sexual things to be in a hospital room, where a nurse could walk in at any time, with him (he was a married man for God's sakes!).

His demeanor deflated and he sighed, “Yes, my darling rose, I did promise you that didn't I?”, while pulling away from you. He grabbed your dress from the bed and motioned for you to lift up your hands.

“What about my underwear?” You asked, feeling a bit exposed as Coryo looked you up and down with a hungry glint in his eye. It was as if he was a starving man and you were a juicy steak ready to eat.

“You don't need them, darling. Once we get to our penthouse you'll be changing into a shirt to sleep in anyways.” He explained while motioning, once again, for you to lift your arms. This time you obeyed him and he pulled your best floral dress over your head. He smoothed it out, only to press a kiss to your forehead and smile. “You're all ready to go, my Victor.”

The car ride to the luxury penthouse seemed to take ages. You were alone with Coriolanus since he was driving and it made you feel a bit uncomfortable. After what happened in your hospital room (him stripping you and groping your boobs) you didn't think it was a good idea to be alone with him. He was married and you didn't want to lose your innocence, all of your firsts, your virginity to a man that would never be yours no matter the chemistry or effect you had on each other.

You were staring aimlessly out the window when Coryo startled you by placing a hand on your thigh. You didn't say a word, just sighed uncomfortably.

Looking over at you with a worried expression, Coriolanus asked, “What's wrong, Y/N? You seem troubled.”

Pulling your eyes off the window, you snapped your head to look at the platinum blonde in the driver's seat and honestly told him how you felt. “You shouldn't be resting your hand on my thigh, Coryo. You’re married.”

The gold ring on his finger mocked him as it shines against the red and cream floral fabric of your dress. He never had anyone turn him down because of that thin gold band he was branded with by saying ‘I do’ to Livia Cardew, well that is until now. Coriolanus knew that you were young and innocent from District 12 so the thought of being a mistress would horrify you. He knew that he had to ease your worries, so he simply told you, “Don't worry about my wife, darling. I’m taking care of everything; she won't be my wife much longer.”

“I wasn't aware ya’ll were having marriage problems. The Capitol gossip rags make it seem like the marriage is a happy one.”

“Things aren't always as they seem here in the Capitol, my darling rose.” He told you before correcting your grammar with a stern, “And it's I wasn't aware that you were having marital problems.” Patting you on the thigh as he switched lanes, he explained, “You're not in District 12 anymore and since you'll be staying here in the Capitol for a while it's best that you learn how to speak properly; like a Capitol citizen.”

You didn't say a word, just numbly nodded. You never thought that staying in the Capitol while Victor’s Village and your house was constructed meant changing how you talked. You never thought you talked strange, well until now. “Do I sound weird when I talk, Coryo?” You asked, staring at the side of his face as he drove.

“No.” He shook his head. “We just need to work on some small grammar errors here and there, but no, darling, you sound just fine when you talk.”

“Oh…” You trailed off, turning your attention back to looking out your window.

He gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, “You're a rose that just needs some extra pruning and tender care, but fortunately for you I'm an excellent gardener that favors white roses.” His thumb grazed your thigh as he explained, “White roses are the perfect symbol of purity and perfection.” As he pulled up to a large building, his baritone heavily hung in the air with the meaningful words of, “Unblemished; untouched, just like you, my darling rose.”

But how long would you be Unblemished and untouched? Would he take your innocence as soon as you entered the penthouse or would he wait until he was free from his wife? The bigger question was did you even want him to take your innocence? To give you all of your first experiences with a man? Now that was the million dollar question you didn't have an answer for. Or maybe you did, but didn't want to acknowledge it.

AN: Did anyone catch the tv show easter egg I threw in there?

Tags: @kuroosbby001 , @purriteen , @poppyflower-22 , @meetmeatyourworst , @whipwhoops , @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri

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entitled-fangirl · 2 months

Text

Two idiots in love. (P12)

Joel Miller x anemic!reader

Summary: The reader wakes up and Joel is there to comfort her.

Warnings: ptsd, depression, brief mention of rape, panic attacks

Masterlist

Part 1 and 13

...............................................................

Joel was grateful that he didn't have to deal with snow anymore.

Y/N had been asleep for almost 48 hours now, and he was beginning to worry.

To give everyone a break, they hid in an abandoned RV.

Just until she could wake.

Joel stepped outside to talk to Ellie, who was sitting on a truck bed nearby.

"Ellie! I found this in there! Beefaroni. Chef Boyardee." And he held up the can like a kid on Christmas.

Ellie nodded, "Okay. Cool. Probably won't be as good when you cook it."

They both laughed, but those laughs turned serious as they both remembered Y/N.

…

Joel was startled by the loud gasp of air that came from the RV couch.

He quickly kneeled next to the couch that held Y/N. He took her head in the hands gently, "Y/N….? You awake?"

Her eyes opened just barely.

Joel let out a breath of relief, "Oh, sweet girl!"

She let out a whimper and squirmed in his hold, "D…stop… stop, please…"

Joel wanted to cry at the lack of strength she had left.

"Y/N. It's me…"

His words did nothing to soothe her.

Her hands came up to grab his, "I didn't do anything… please…"

Joel immediately let her go to give her space, letting his hand move away from her face and rest at her waist.

But this only made things worse.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" She clawed at his hands in a desperate attempt to free herself from him.

Joel grabbed her face again, determined to let her recognize him. He pulled her face close to his and let his voice relax, "Y/N, you sweet, sweet woman. Please look at me. It's me. It's Joel."

She simply stared in fear.

He had seen her be scared many times, but never had she looked so terrified.

And it was from him.

"You know me." Joel tried to reason.

She cried out as she studied his face. A look of recognition crossed her features. "I… J…Joel? JOEL?!"

He smiled with a laugh, "Yeah! You're safe, honey…"

She jumped into his arms, crying into his shoulder.

He held her tightly, letting his arms wrap around her shaking frame.

He kissed the side of her head in relief, letting his eyes close to enjoy the moment while he had it.

"You okay, sweet girl?" He asked softly.

She pulled away just enough to look him in the eyes, "Is Ellie o…okay?"

Joel smiled and gently wiped at her tear-stained face, "Yes. You protected her. She's just fine. You need to tell me about you."

She shook her head, "'M fine."

Joel shook his head, "No. You need to be honest with me. I need to know what happened in there."

She sniffled, shaking her head as well.

Joel sighed in frustration.

He watched her eyes fill with tears again at his sigh. "Oh, honey. I didn't mean to-"

"-Plea…please don't hurt me, Joel…"

"W…what? Y/N, I'm not gonna hurt you."

She was insistent, "p..promise me?"

He nodded without thought. "I'd promise you anything you wanted. You know that."

She seemed to accept his words.

But Joel saw the way the shine in her eyes dulled away.

…

"They had a guitar in that RV," Joel stated as they walked, "It was all smashed up but got me thinkin'. Maybe I should find one. I haven't played in forever."

Ellie nodded, following along with his trail of thoughts.

"In fact," he continued, "I was thinking maybe I could teach you. I bet you'd be great at it. Do you wanna learn how to play guitar?"

But she had turned her attention to Y/N, who walked on the other side of Joel like a skeleton that hadn't seen daylight.

Y/N was slowly turning into a shell.

"…Ellie?" Joel questioned.

"Oh, yeah. That sounds really cool." She nodded.

The three continued to walk. The man and girl occasionally threw worried looks at the other for the woman.

But neither of them knew what to do.

…

"I get you up there, you can drop that ladder down, maybe we go through that way. C'mon, I'll give you a boost."

But Ellie was distracted again.

Joel approached her again, following her eye line to see her staring at Y/N again.

The woman was sat on a crate nearby.

Her eyes never left Joel's frame, despite the empty look in her eyes.

Only then did Joel notice the hollowness of her cheeks.

The dark bags under her eyes.

The constant shivering of her entire body despite being fully dressed in 80 degree weather.

She hadn't spoken since the initial moment with him in the RV.

And that was a few days ago.

Ellie turned, "Boost. Got it."

When Joel moved to boost Ellie up, he saw Y/N slowly stand. He stopped her, "Hey, honey. You stay there. Just a minute."

When she said nothing, he took that as an answer.

He boosted Ellie up with relative ease.

She picked up the ladder, but got distracted and dropped it, "Woah…"

It crashed on the floor loudly, making Y/N flinch terribly.

"Goddammit, Ellie!" Joel grumbled.

He turned back to his woman, "Sweet girl?"

She said nothing, her gaze already on him.

"Let's go up, yeah? Can we do that?"

She let out a soft sigh and stood.

…

It took the two a while to catch up to Ellie, but when they did, they were in awe.

Well, Joel was.

A giraffe at eye level.

He turned back to Y/N, "C'mon." And he offered his hand to her.

But she only stared at it.

He sighed and nodded, walking to Ellie alone.

Y/N watched from behind as they began to feed it.

She had been fighting with her mind.

She looked at the two in front of her. Her family. She knows them. She knows she does. She feels safe with them, but her mind only replays David's words and actions in her head.

And she was scared that he was right.

The giraffe began to walk away, and Ellie was determined to follow it. "C'mon, c'mon!"

Joel sighed and turned to follow her, walking to Y/N. He offered his hand once more.

She stared at it.

Then slowly took it.

Joel smiled as their fingers intertwined carefully.

…

The three stood on a balcony, taking in the fresh air.

Y/N sat on the opposite end, needing some time to herself.

"Look," Joel sighed at Ellie, "I don't know where this hospital is-"

"We'll find it."

"Sure," he nods, "It's just… Maybe there's nothing bad out there, but so far, there's always been something bad out there… We don't have to do this. I just want you to know that."

Ellie scoffed, "What do you mean? What else are we supposed to do?"

"Nothing. We go back to Tommy's. We forget about the whole damn thing."

Ellie stared at him in disbelief, "After everything we've been through. Everything I've done… What Y/N did… It can't be for nothing."

Joel felt his jaw clench in thought.

"I know you mean well," Ellie smiled, "I know you wanna protect me. You have. And when we're done, we'll go wherever you want. Tommy's, sheep ranch, the moon… I'll follow you anywhere you go."

Joel laughed under his breath.

"But," she continued, "There's no halfway with this. We finish what we start."

He finally nodded, "Alright."

"And," Ellie pointed at him, "When were you going to tell her about her son?"

Joel froze, "…w…what?"

"I read the note, Joel. I know."

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, "I will. I was gonna. But… I can't tell her anytime soon. Not in her state."

Ellie nodded.

"Tell me, Ellie… what do you think happened to her exactly?"

The girl sighed, "Joel, you know what probably happened. You're not stupid."

He nodded. "Guess I was just hoping you'd have something positive to say."

She gave a sad smile, "Not about this."

Joel let his eyes wander over to Y/N's meek frame.

The things he would do for her.

...................................................................

Tags: @lover-of-books-and-tea, @pedropascalfan221, @lottieellz101, @bambisweethearts, @hiroikegawa, @elliaze, @littleshadow17, @n7cje, @ashleyfilm, @darling-imobsessed

#fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #the last of us hbo #the last of us #tlou

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hanniluvi · 5 months

Text

( 🗒️ ) — ADVENT CALENDAR ‘23?!

[ 🎥 ] — open something a little special each day before christmas day … who wouldn’t love these gifts?

unlock a new drabble/fic by soph everyday in december before christmas!

[ 💬 ] — happy early december!! as the weather is starting to get colder, i decided to write a 2023 kpop winter masterlist ! there are many reasons as why i have decided to do this — 1. 2023 is coming to an end 2. i hit 2K+ followers 3. and bc it has officially been a year of hanniluvi (since oct 30 2022), so this is my big present for you all! thank you guys so much for all this love on this account, and i hope you love these little fics you get daily very soon 🫶 + get little spoilers of the titles n everything 👀 !!

POSTING SCHEDULE — starting from dec. 1st to dec. 25 . NO FIXATED TIME POSTS ; I POST WHENEVER I CAN!

STATUS : DISCONTINUED ; REMAINING ONES —> 2024 ?!?!

“ stay in the middle, like you a little ”

[ ★ ] DAY ONE — lovers’ tv [ jungwon ]

[ ☆ ] DAY TWO — hot choco girl [ hanbin ]

[ ★ ] DAY THREE — his beige sweater [ jake ]

[ ☆ ] DAY FOUR — you’re my star [ eric ]

[ ★ ] DAY FIVE — love easily crumbles [ taehyun ]

[ ☆ ] DAY SIX — ugly christmas sweaters [ beomgyu ]

[ ★ ] DAY SEVEN — come on! [ jaehyun ]

[ ☆ ] DAY EIGHT — this is how it feels [ sunghoon ]

[ ★ ] DAY NINE — blurry hearts [ niki ]

[ ☆ ] DAY TEN — warmth for two [ nicholas ]

[ ★ ] DAY ELEVEN — winter without you [ yeonjun ]

[ ☆ ] DAY TWELVE — you’re blushing? [ changmin ]

[ ☆ ] DAY THIRTEEN — not our last goodbye. [ k ]

[ ☆ ] DAY FOURTEEN — (not so) yummy cookies [ soobin ]

[ ★ ] DAY FIFTEEN — ditto! [ harua ]

[ ★ ] DAY SIXTEEN — wanna share? [ leehan ]

[ ★ ] DAY SEVENTEEN — perfect night [ heeseung ]

[ ☆ ] DAY EIGHTEEN — taking care of you [ sunwoo ]

[ ★ ] DAY NINETEEN — last christmas [ taesan ]

[ ☆ ] DAY TWENTY — skater boy [ sunoo ]

[ ★ ] DAY TWENTY ONE — snowball fight? [ zhanghao ]

[ ☆ ] DAY TWENTY TWO — missing snow angel [ hyunjae ]

[ ★ ] DAY TWENTY THREE — crowded [ gunwook ]

[ ☆ ] DAY TWENTY FOUR — that’s us [ chanhee ]

[ ★ ] DAY TWENTY FIVE — be my plus one [ jay ]

( * ) PLEASE NOTE THAT SOME FIC IDEAS / TITLES MAY CHANGE BUT THE IDOLS WOULD MOST LIKELY STAY THE SAME FOR THIS MASTERLIST !

TAGGING PEOPLE IN CERTAIN GROUP TAGLISTS !

—> people in certain taglists will only be tagged in idol works of that group

—> if you wish to be tagged for any group(s) on here or just for the mlist in general, let me know !

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

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ja3hwa · 7 months

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♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟖: 𝐓𝐨𝐲𝐬/𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐱 - 𝐊.𝐇𝐉 ♡

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : Hongjoong couldn't decide what gift to buy you while he was travelling. So he bought them all and now wants you to try them out. Every. Single. One.

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 : 1.11k

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Pure Smut

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Idol!Hongjoong x F.Reader

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Edging. Fingering. Dirty talk. Use of a dildo. Making out. Pet names. Swearing. Neck kisses.

Thank you, my darling, @nateezfics, for requesting Hongjoong for this day. I hope you enjoy, baby. ♡♡♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List

You don’t know how you ended up in such a predicament. But here you were, sitting on several blankets on the floor with your back against the end of your bed frame with pillows supporting you. Hongjoong had gone on a shopping spree while he was in Paris, and at first, you thought he simply bought you a nice outfit or even some French snacks. But no, this was Hongjoong you were thinking about. The man who secretly has a dark spot. A dirty side and of course he had bought you an array of toys. Especially.. but plugs.

“I didn’t know which one would suit you, so I bought them all.” that was his excuse for the ten or so plugs lying hiding in a giant bag… among other things. He told you that about an hour ago now. Having set up a little spot for you to lay while he worked on you. He first took some attentiveness in stretching you. Lube was all over the blankets by the time he was done and you were shaking like a leaf at this point. His fingers switching between your pussy to your ass was making your head spin in the best way and the more he worked on you the more nervous you got with the idea of the new toys. He wouldn’t tell you what else was in the bag other than ‘it’s a surprise’ making your nerves even more on edge.

He sat behind you, letting you lay on your lower back, holding yourself with your elbows. He sat you in front of your large full-length mirror, letting you see exactly what the gems looked like when they were pushed into your puckered hole. First, it was a red gem, ruby, it was cute, simple and he always said red was your colour. But he kept going, pulling the toy out he pushed another one in. One after the other and at this point you didn’t care what the gem colour was, all that mattered was the feeling of it going in and out over and over again. He was edging you without even realizing and it made you all hot and bothered.

“J-Joong.” at this point he needed him to fuck you before you explode but he just chuckled putting the new on, a purple gem deep inside your ass. He twisted it slowly, pretending to make remarks such as ‘Such a pretty colour’, ‘You should wear purple more often’, ‘It’s got a bright shine than the other gems’ as if he was talking about clothing or some accessory, rather then a butt plug. He pulled it out still satisfied with it. No, there was a perfect one in here, he just needed to find it. Your hazy eyes looked around the room while he dug in the bag, you saw all the plugs lying randomly on the floor, lube dripping off all of them, some most likely smeared with your own juices, given you were practically leaking for Hongjoong to touch you.

“Ahh!” You suddenly look back at yourself in the mirror, seeing he placed a much thicker plug inside this time, but instead of a gem, it was a tail…. a bright red fox tail with a snow-white tip. It sat so beautifully on the floor making you shiver. His fingers rubbed against the fur, patting it while he groaned. This was the perfect piece. A tail that made you look like what he thought of you as…. Just a sweet little fox in a big bad wolfs trap.

“My pretty little fox…” He whispered in your ear making you whimper at his words. He picked up another object from the bag letting you see he got a tentacle dildo. A deep purple one. The one you saw online the other night. You thought you were alone while browsing for sex toys but Hongjoong must have noticed the cheeky shit. He held the toy in front of you giving you a good view of it. You bucked your hips, wiggling in anticipation while he spilled some lube on the object. “You want to be fucked by a tentacle baby? Dirty girl.”

“P-please Joongie.” You cried, feeling him rub the dildo up and down lightly pushing the tip of the tentacle against your clit and it started vibrating. “ffffuuucckk!!” You screamed out, trying to back away from the vibration but Hongjoong’s body caged you, his thighs either side of you. He played with the tail with his free hand, stroking the fur while lightly tugging on it. Everything was so sensitive and you felt like you were going to explode. He slipt the dildo inside your puffy cunt, fucking you harshly with it. Your eyes were glued to the mirror, watching the toy go in and out. In and out…

“Fuck, look at you. You’re enjoying this my little fox. Being fucked stupid on some toys.” His voice rang in your ears. Your head was spinning and your body was jerking in rhythm of his thrusts. You could feel you were close to your high but it felt different. Felt… faster, more intense.

“Hongjoong I-” Before you could say another word your body shook like crazy. Legs locking, hands gripping tight on Hongjoong’s thighs. You squirted all over the blankets, some of it managed to splatter across the mirror, making your lover chuckle in amusement. Once you slowly came down from your high, Joong switched off the toy before discarding it somewhere on the floor. His hand snaked along your wet body, squeezing your tit before gripping your chin, pulling your face upwards so his lips could capture yours.

“Hmm my baby.” he kissed you again “My pretty baby.” he kissed the corner of your mouth, "You enjoying yourself darling?” he licked your neck, sucking your skin. You just humped in response, feeling tired from the orgasm you had just felt. But Hongjoong didn’t give you time to relax in your bliss as he softly pushed you forward, making you fall onto your tummy, keeping your legs bent and ass in the air. Your face was smooshed against the mirror making you keep eye contact with yourself. But Hongjoong had the perfect view. Your ass wiggling in his face with a perfect tail swaying with it.

“You ready for around two…” He tugged harshly on your tail making your eyebrows knit tight together. “I have so many other toys to try on you.”

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armpirate · 3 months

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Wander through my body || San

Boyfriend exp.

pairing: Idol!Choi San x fem!reader

w.c.: 4k

Warnings: Smut, vanilla sex, oral sex (female and male receiving), masturbation (female receiving), unprotected sex (not you, wrap it up, folks). If you're a minor, refrain from reading it. Also, if you don't like this content, just keep scrolling.

Summary: Your boyfriend has been having a hard time, after he was forced to cancel a trip you were excited about. Even if you have told him everything is okay, he's still stuck on the idea that you're mad about it, so you come up with the idea of showing him how you're okay through actions rather than words.

Aprox. time of reading: 17 minutes

MASTERLIST

The huge teddy bear rested over the right side of your couch, after you placed it there. You weren't convinced of leaving it there, but it wasn't like you had many other free spots to leave something that was as big as you. Your boyfriend did mean it when he said he'd try to make it up to you, although you didn't expect that would mean seeing your small studio filled with heart-shaped balloons, cuddly teddy bears, and giant tulip buckets.

Earlier that day, he had called you to brag about all the gifts he prepared, including your favorite flower in different bright colors -that, surprisingly, fitted with the aesthetic of your apartment perfectly.

You couldn't say you were widely surprised though. Since you two started dating, San had always been the perfect boyfriend. He loved romance as much as he loved you, and showing his affection by using it was one of his best skills.

A walk next to the Han River in the night while holding hands, or sitting next to your window to see the snow falling down in front of you as you were cuddled next to each other, covered with a soft blanket... Those were the type of things he made you used to. And you loved it each time, because you treasured the efforts he made to see you, although his schedule was too tight.

His idol life was crazy, and you knew it before you started dating each other, when you met at Kangdae's, one of your friends in common, birthday party. San caught your eye immediately. Not only was he dangerously attractive, but his personality trapped you in the moment -and you were afraid you would never escape it. And he felt the same way, although -unlike you- he tried to tear down the walls that you kept building up, until you were completely defenseless to his charm.

One year later, you couldn't be more glad of avoiding everything that could've kept you away from him.

It was difficult at times, but you always managed to make it work.

Barely having time to see each other, the sometimes forced long-distance relationship, having to date in the dark, last-minute canceled dates because rehearsal took longer than he expected... And that week it was the cancellation of a week-long trip you both had been talking about for weeks, their tour would be finished and also neither of your coworkers asked for days off during that period of time -which allowed you to have that freedom to choose.

You already made sure to have that week off from work, when San assured you there would be no problem since there was nothing scheduled for those dates. Although thankfully you didn't buy the tickets nor booked the hotel. Just when you called him for it, the tone of his voice warned you that the next thing that would come out of his lips was something you wouldn't like.

It upsetted you, because you were already acting as if that trip was happening without a problem. But the guilty tone in your boyfriend's voice hurted you more. It was something out of his control. It wasn't like he had any type of control over his team, and the way they dealt with contracts for the group. He was already seeing himself packing his bags in a few months to go with you to Bali after you confirmed you were allowed to have that week off, until he stepped inside his company with the news that Ateez was going to be participating in a festival in Japan that same weekend -which meant he'd be required to rehearse for it. Ever since that happened, he had always been looking after you, calling you several times a day -even if he was using those tiny breaks to eat, even if that meant he stayed up at night -because he was on the other side of the world-, and sending several gifts to your place -where you didn't have any space left for more.

He didn't need to make up for anything, yet he made sure he did.

The emotional responsibility he showed, every single time he thought you were disappointed, was something you hadn't seen in any of your exes before -not even in most of your friends. It was definitely one of the things that you treasured with dear life, and that encouraged you to treat him better every day.

That week you barely had time to text back, or see him whenever he invited you over to the dorm when Mingi and Seonghwa weren't around, and the day he opted to show up at your place, he found the door closing up in his nose, with your eyes widening in surprise when you saw him.

San had never seen you reacting that way when he showed up, and that added to how distant you seemed that week, made him worry. His knocks on the door were gentle, yet insistent, while his voice called your name with an inquiring tone that made you struggle with the way your living room looked.

Ever since he came back from tour, everything seemed fine. You both went back to those late night dates, filled with cuddles that made him never want to leave your side, your random visits to the company... He didn't exaggerate when he thought that he saw you just as much as he saw the members -and he spent almost all day with them. But everything went off a few days back. All of a sudden, you stopped visiting him and seemed conflicted if he showed up to pick you up at work instead. It seemed like he was still on tour by the way you restricted your relationship to texts and calls.

At first, San thought that maybe work was busier than usual that week. But the worst side of his brain couldn't stop wondering whether you could've met someone else or not, or whether you started needing some space after dating for so long. Or if he did something to make you act that way. And it was then when he realized: you were supposed to be on that trip for two days already, yet there you were at home.

Meanwhile, you were inside, trying to choose whether to let him ruin your surprise or knowingly hurt him and give him a hard time to protect it. Work had been a mess, but trying to prepare the way your living room looked, along with all the small details you had to pay attention to, barely gave you time to breathe. If you finished your shift at six, at one past six you were going from one shop to the other to get everything you needed before he left for Japan. And you spent the whole previous day building the "stage" in your free corner of your living room, just to make sure it'd look fine before the day of the surprise came.

"Give me one minute" you screamed.

You weren't going to ruin your surprise. You were just going to give it to him earlier than planned.

Double checking the comfort space, you sighed and walked to the door. That wasn't the way you imagined that day, although you still didn't know if that was for good or bad.

His eyebrows were slightly furrowed at the top of his nose, and his eyes seemed bigger by the way confusion invaded them, by the way he was unable to read the expression on your face.

"What are you doing here?" you first asked, moving to the side so he'd be able to step inside.

"We've barely seen each other this week, and I missed you" San admitted, taking off his shoes before he turned back to you. "I know you're still mad, but...".

You were the one frowning as soon as he started speaking "Mad? About what?".

"I know it's not easy, and I know you were looking forward to that trip, but I promise I'll make it up to you".

Your hands rested on your hips as you heard what got him so worried to go to your apartment that late, out of nowhere. While you completely moved on from that topic days after it happened, he was still stuck there and the disappointment he thought it made you feel after months. If you were doubting on giving him his surprise in a few days, that was the sign that he needed to see why you were actually distant for that week.

Just clicking your tongue, and quickly twisting your neck, you took a step in his direction, reaching for his wrist to drag him inside your studio.

He was confused by the way you pulled him deeper in your house, walking behind you. As he followed you, there was a sound of waves that kept sounding louder with every step you two took, but he didn't pay much attention to it, it was the least of his worries at that moment. It all seemed like always when you two reached the entrance to your living room, except for the few plushies that he sent, that were decorating the shelves. Until his eyes fell over the corner in the living room that was empty. There was a huge beach poster, and the sand at the bottom of it was followed by a wide carpet with a print in a similar tone. Over it, a tiny table that had nothing on it, except for two empty glasses with two pink small paper parasols.

"Crafts were never my thing, so I'll say it for you: it looks a bit lame. But it's still unfinished., I didn't even prepare the drinks to make it spot on" you tried to justify yourself. "I know how bad you felt, and still feel, about that trip. And I tried to make this to make you feel better about it, but the only conclusion you could reach with this is never leaving me in charge of building anything".

The warm hug San trapped you in contrasted with your light jokes about the build up of your surprise. His face was hidden on the curve of your neck, feeling his nose and his lips pressed against your oversized t-shirt, while his arms surrounded your body, one hand cupping your head against his chest while the other pulled you in tighter by your waist.

"No, princess. It's perfect" he assured, with his face sinking deeper on your body -as if that were possible.

Finally smiling, your arms changed places. You wrapped his neck, standing on your tiptoes to be able to land a sweet kiss on his neck, while his arms hugged you tight from your waist.

"You don't need to make up for anything, babe" your fingers tangled on his locks, caressing the back of his head. "You never had to".

You squeezed his cheeks, lightly moving back to be able to look into his eyes during your embrace. His smile was so wide, despite not showing his teeth, that his eyes looked completely squinted.

"At first I thought you were planning on breaking up with me" he mentioned with a pout.

"Oh, you aren't getting rid of me so easily" you joked, pulling in for a peck on his lips.

The shape of his mouth slowly changed, going from the pout to fully adapt to the way your lips moved on his. His fingers pressed on a particular spot, between the curve of your waist and your spine that made you gasp, hugging tighter onto him as you smiled during the kiss. The tip of his tongue peeked through his lips as he smirked, guiding yours lips to his with the hand on your nape.

You had been dating for so long, but everytime his tongue rubbed against yours had the same effect on you. A wave of electricity ran through your body, feeling something waking up every time he flicked it against yours. Your knees went momentarily weak, forcing you to close your fist tight on the fabric of his black t-shirt.

San broke the kiss first, rubbing his nose on yours, before he said "I didn't bring a swimsuit".

That comment made you giggle, moving your face away to look back on him. You tried to seem serious, but you couldn't hold back the smile on your face when you were aware of the way his eyebrow kept rising.

"Lucky you, you don't need that on this beach".

You both mirrored each other's expression, mocking the way your eyebrows raised in a flirty way, while you two were dying to burst out laughing before you kissed again. San guided your steps until you were stepping on the carpet, breaking the kiss again to take his socks off and leave a short kiss on your belly before he was back on kissing you, joining you over the fake sand.

Being first to take off his clothes, he threw his t-shirt away, gluing your body to his while his hands moved down your oversized t-shirt to lift it up slowly. At the same time his hands moved up over the curve of your back, his lips traced a trail of open mouthed kisses that went from your chin to the line of your jaw, that he followed as if it was a path until he reached your earlobe. Once he sucked on that sensitive spot, you knew it was over for you. A heavy gasp fell from your lips, followed by your head tilting to the side, while you were only able to move your fingertips across his collarbones to reach his shoulders.

His skin was burning under your touch, making you the only one to blame for the way he was feeling.

Soon after, your t-shirt was flying across the room, having San's chest sinking and his growing bulge twitching when he saw you had no bra on. He pulled you close again, trapping your hips in his hands and catching one of your hard nipples in his lips. The moves of his tongue and mouth were slow on you, twirling and sucking on the hard button carefully, showing his devotion the best way he could while you cupped his head in your hands. With the change of one nipple to the other, a small one escaped your lips, along with your hips moving forward to his, rubbing your lower belly against his dick.

San moved down on you, keeping a route of wet kisses through your belly, until he stopped on the edge of your shorts. With his eyes closed, and still kissing the invisible line that separated your naked skin from your clothes, he got rid of the last pieces of fabric left on your body. He went lower, ghosting his lips over the place where your slit started, making your clit throb at the feeling of his warmth breathing over you.

"Lift your leg, princess" he asked, opening his hand in front of you.

Supporting yourself on his shoulder, you raised your leg, resting the back of your knee on his palm, which he moved higher to your thigh to raise your leg a bit more. The air seemed to get thicker with every small move of his tongue on you, making you eager to feel his tongue doing more than just soft kitten licks over your clit and teasing your entrance. His other hand was secured around your forearm, assuring you he had you even if you lost balance. It was something that was bound to happen when his lips enclosed around your bundle of nerves, pulling from it while his tongue drew small circles on it.

San kept testing you, changing his moves, changing the speed -going from fast to slow in a way that caused a short circuit in your brain-, going from your clit to your entrance to ignore both and shower with kids your inner thigh. And when he heard the first moan, it was over for you. Once that sound joined the sound of waves coming out of your small speaker, San sank his face deeper in your core, flicking his tongue a few more times until he moved back to look up at you.

Standing up, he was again towering over you, linking your lips on a messier kiss, that made you aware of the mix of his spit and your own taste on his tongue. He saw your intentions when you broke the kiss again, letting go of his lips with a loud sound before you sank to your knees. Although he stopped before you were able to. Reaching to the first thing to his reach, he handed you one of the plushies he had gifted you.

"Put it under your knees. It won't hurt you like that" he excused himself.

His gesture made you smile through all the lust mist in the air, reminding you that man was always looking after you, even if his brain wasn't completely conscious.

You undid his belt and unzipped his pants, eager to pull them down and see him completely naked. You both have had sex several times, but it always felt like the first time. There was always that nervousness to seeing him naked for the first time -even if it vanished quite fast.

His hand cupped your cheek when the tip of your tongue flicked around his tip, rubbing his thumb on your skin. The way his finger moved sometimes stopped, because he was way too focused on how warm your tongue and lips felt as you licked and teased his shaft, until he was aware and he went back to caressing you to let you know everything was fine.

Spitting a bit on his tip, you moved your hand softly, spreading the wetness all over his dick before you finally wrapped your lips around his tip. A soft groan was heart over you, a hint of what you were provoking on his body with just a few moves, and that went straight to your core. You kept moving down, taking him slowly, inch by inch, until you reached that point where you'd almost gag and that'd make you move back up slowly. You bobbed your head over his cock, with a steady yet slow pace, joining your hands to the way your lips were taking him in so good it felt like heaven for him.

His eyes were always closed when you looked up at him, with his head thrown back, while his lips were parted, sometimes mumbling praises, but other times just gasping and moaning with every move you made. And it was like that that day. He reassured you through the touch of his fingertips on your cheek, feeling how you sucked in every time you moved back to the tip and feeling it get thicker under his palm every time you took him in.

You were indeed heaven for him.

"Babe, stop" he stopped you, gulping thick when you reached his tip again. "Let me make love to you".

You cleaned the corners of your mouth and threw the teddy bear away, before he kneeled with you. His kisses were soft and sweet, but something on them that day made them feel way more tender. As if he was indeed treasuring that moment to the depths of his heart because he didn't want to forget it, sucking onto your lips so deeply every time your heads rolled that you thought you'd end up dizzy from it.

Through kisses and hidden touches, he helped you lay on your back at the same time he lied on top of you, molding himself to the spot in between your legs. Your hips instantly lifted to his touch, feeling that throbbing sensation again when he rubbed your clit a few times, moving lower through your folds until he reached your entrance. The moan you let out when two of his fingers slipped in you broke the kiss, but he just stayed there, admiring every millimeter of your face, knowing he was the only one you reached that way for. You wrapped around him tight, making him groan when he felt your walls enclosing around his digits as perfectly as he remembered.

"Does it feel good?" he asked, rubbing his nose on yours.

"Yes" you moaned, rocking your hips subtly against his hand.

A few seconds later, you were feeling empty again, when he pulled his fingers out to rub the tip of his dick through your folds to lube himself with your arousal, ghosting over your entrance every time he moved down. With one last annoyed gasp from you, San smirked, finally lining his length to thrust inside of you slowly.

Once he made sure it was fully in, he showered your neck and face with kisses, thrusting his hips back and forth slowly, feeling your walls taking him in like he belonged there.

San always worshiped your body through sex, moving his hands over your curves, letting his fingers wander through your body as if it was his most desired destination. He always gave the best balance between love and sex, rolling his hips for the best angle, while he whispered sweet things into your ear or spread soft kisses over your shoulder.

Sex between you two was always a full on representation of intimacy on all the possible levels. It wasn't only how you became one whenever he pounded into you, but also the nakedness of looking into each other's eyes, the romance of every little touch to encourage the other, and the passion of being vocal through moans and some mumbled words that made no sense.

He rested his forehead on yours, moving one hand to your hip while the other played with your hair. Your hips lifted after the first friction of his pelvis on your clit, looking for that same friction with every thrust he made. And San was aware, rolling his hips in a way that made that friction hold onto his arms and wrap your legs tighter around his hips.

"You feel so good, love" you moaned against his lips, moving your mouth down to bite his chin and kiss his skin.

"Does it feel good, hmm?" he asked with a raspy voice. "You wrap around me so well".

"Go a bit faster, babe" that whine went along a tight clench around his dick, that made him aware of how you were feeling almost instantly.

His thrusts were a bit faster, and deeper, just like you asked for it, making you hold onto his forearm and shoulder before he sunk his head on the curve of your neck. Your skin clapped with every thrust, just adding that intensity you both needed to push you closer to the edge. You felt the way his muscles contracted against your body with every move of his hips, while his gaps kept turning to high-pitched moans in your ear as he ran after his release. The synergy of all those sounds only worked as the last drop before everything overflowed.

Your back arched as you hugged him tight throughout your prolonged moan that announced your orgasm smacking into your system, while San sank his nails on your flesh and bit on your shoulder to drown his moan on your skin as he spilled inside of you.

You stayed like that for a few minutes, helping each other to calm down through touches and gentle kisses on the other's skin, thinking of getting some oxygen back before you looked into each other again.

"You liked the surprise?" your breathing was shaky as you spoke.

With a smirk, San nodded "You make me feel so lucky to have you".

You pouted to his words, tilting your head a bit, before you pulled him in for another kiss.

Maybe you'd keep that corner for a few more days until he left for Japan...

#ff #smut #one shot #reader insert #san #choi san #san smut #ateez #choisanxreader #sanxreader #armpirate #ateez smut #choi san smut #sanxreader scenarios #ateez scenarios #choi san scenarios #soft #idol!au #idol!san

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axelsagewrites · 3 months

Note

Hi I was just wondering if you were gonna write more tormund real man or if it was a one time thing it's really good

Tormund*Use Your Words

Pairing: Tormund x f!northerner!reader

Word count: 1537

Warnings: f!recieving oral, m!recieving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex, pull out method, teasing, praise, dirty talk, a lot of swearing, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Part two to real man (here) or read as a stand alone

Being the lone woman of the wall had its challenges but with the threat of winter and the night king someone had to be here to stitch up the wounded and most of these men simply did not have your expertise. All of the men were grateful to have you stitch up their wounds and receive even just a smile however they knew they’d not survive long if they did anything else.

When lord commander snow agreed to your stay, he also agreed to give a swift punishment to any man who tried take it too far. Something neither of you had accounted for was when you would have to take care of the wildlings.

Well one specifically. Tormund teased you every time you entered his room, well prison really. His taunts made you blush and squirm under his gaze but never in a way that made you feel threatened. Instead, you would get a strange warm feeling spreading through your stomach when he’d make comments to you.

They got bolder with time. at first, he would make vague suggestions of things a pretty girl could better spend her time doing. Now when you entered, he didn’t even try to hide the way his eyes tore over your body. “One day you’ll grow sick of those boys,” he said as you applied the ointment to his now almost healed wound, “When you do, you’ll know where to find me,” he winked at you as you turned to stash the lotion back in your bag.

You rolled your eyes and turned back to him, catching him obviously staring at your ass, “Subtle,” you hummed, turning your attention to your bag once more as you tried to stall for more time. you had grown oddly found of the Firey red head.

“Never been accused of subtly,” he said, laying back down on his bed, his eyes scanning your frame still, “If you don’t ask you don’t get,”

“Oh yeah?”

He hummed with a smile, nodding his head, “Oh yes little bird. You’d be surprised how much you can get when you just use your words. You should try it sometimes,”

“And what is it I would ask of you?” you laughed, turning round with hands on your hips.

Tormund grinned, pushing himself up on his elbows, “For a proper fuck from a real man not some pretty boy like Snow,”

You couldn’t help the flush that stained your cheeks, but you could turn away from him, “Me and Jon are just friends,”

Tormund barked out a laugh, “Please. that boy would give his left arm for a chance with you,” he said as he went to stood up, “now you gonna stop pretending to be busy and look at me?”

“Who said I was pretending?” you said as you closed up your bag and turned to face him, trying to keep the tough look on your face. “I should go now,” you went to walk away but his hand shot out to grab your wrist.

It was gently enough that you could have pulled away but instead you only turned back to face him, “But you don’t want to go, do you? you want me, just as much as I want you,” he said, stepping closer till your chest was pressed against his as his other hand moved to the small of your back, “All you need to do is admit it little one,” he leaned down, his breath fanning your ear, “All you have to do is ask,”

You weren’t sure what happened but something in you snapped and suddenly his lips were on yours and your hands were in his hair. Tormund groaned into the kiss, moving back till he was sat on the bed, pulling you down to straddle his lap.

His hands moved to your hips, tugging at them to make you grind down onto his clothed hard member. you moaned into the kiss, allowing his tongue entry. Your dress had soon bunched up around your waist allowing Tormund’s hands to move down to squeeze your thighs, all while your hips continued to buck against him.

Just as you seemed to sink into a rhythm you were shocked once more by him flipping you onto your back while his lips began kissing down your neck. He squeezed your tit over your dress while he began to grind his hard on into your leg. “We shouldn’t,” you murmured, your eyes flickering close.

“Oh, but we should,” he grinned against your skin, “Tell me you don’t want to and ill stop,” he said as his hand moved to run up your thigh. You gasped when you felt his fingers run soft circles over your clit, “But your pretty little sounds make me think otherwise,”

You moaned when you felt his fingers slip into your hole, stretching you out perfectly, “So wet already,” he teased, nipping at your skin with his teeth.

Your eyes shot open when you felt him moving down, “What are you doing?” you asked as you felt his breath fan your wet cunt.

“Trust me little one. Let yourself enjoy it,” he said.

You’d been raised your whole live to distrust the wildlings but when you felt his lips wrap around your clit all while his fingers curled inside you, all that went out the window. He moved your thighs over his shoulders while his tongue worked wonders on your bundle of nerves.

You felt your thighs begin to clamp around his head and you were about to try pull them away encase you hurt him when you felt the vibrations of his moan shoot up your clit, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “Tormund,” you couldn’t help but moan his name.

Times like this you were thankful Tormund lived in a room so far from everyone else since you didn’t have to hide your moans. You felt a knot in your stomach tighten and it didn’t take long till you felt yourself come to your peak on his face, but he didn’t stop. Instead, he kept going till you felt yourself sink into the sheets like melted snow and kept going till a second orgasm raged through your body.

When he came up for air his face was slick with your juices and there was a large grin on his face as you gasped for air, “Fuck you really are sweet,” he said, his lips crashing onto yours again.

“Please,” you moaned against his lips.

“Please what?”

“Fuck me,” you practically whined against his lips that soon curled into a smirk.

Tormund wasted no time in unlacing his trousers, “I’ve dreamt of you asking me that,” he said, pulling his hard cock out and running the tip up and down your slit, “Kept me up all night thinking of you,” he said, pushing the tip in, “how you’d look under me,” he said, his eyes screwing shut as he pushed further in, “how good you’d look falling apart around my cock,” he said, pushing the rest in with one final push.

He waited a moment for you to adjust but when he felt your hips begin to buck, he wasted no time in grabbing your hips. His pace was ruthless but after being stretched with his fingers and fucked by his tongue it was exactly what you craved.

Your legs went to wrap around his waist and Tormund groaned when he felt himself sink in deeper. “Fuck you take me so well,” he groaned, his head falling into the crook of your neck as his hand slipped between your bodies to rub harsh circles on your swollen clit.

You couldn’t help the moans falling from your lips especially when you felt your third peak fast approaching, “Don’t stop,” you begged him, over and over as your legs tightened around his waist.

This only seemed to drive him more insane as his hips began to snap at an almost inhuman pace as he fucked you into the bed so hard the headboard banged against the wall with each thrust, but the noises didn’t matter right now. “Cmon,” he murmured against your skin, “Cum around my cock like a good little southerner,”

You wanted to tell him he was wrong, that you were a northerner through and through, but you couldn’t even speak as your third orgasm hit you. Tormund felt your cunt squeeze around his cock and knew he couldn’t take it any longer.

He pulled out, moving quickly to sit beside you and before you could question him you felt his hand tugging at your hair. You knew what he meant and quickly wrapped your lips around his cock. He moaned loudly as you took him into your mouth, and it only took a couple seconds before you felt hot cum shoot into your mouth. You swallowed it quickly before pulling off to sit up beside him.

Tormund was panting as he tried to come down from his high as he turned to you with a fucked-out expression. “I’m a fucking northerner by the way,” you said, cutting him off when he went to speak.

A smile curved onto his lips as he laughed, “You’re fucking something alright,”

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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 5 months

Text

Phantom pain

Summary; Price said he would be back before Christmas, but you didn't think it would be like this.

Pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot

Word; 9k

Warnings; angst, injury, copious amount of fluff

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: Surprise update everyone! I've been feeling so festive this year, there's so much snow and everything's just so cosy, so this chapter comes as a little hurt to feel-good thing on the third of advent. If you don't celebrate Christmas or don't like the festive period, I simply hope that you have a great December nonetheless🥰

SUNSHINE UNIVERSE MASTERLIST

It had been a slow morning. Despite snow greeting you on the ground and in the air, you'd felt warm huddled in your jacket and the thought of cosying into one of the plush armchairs at your coffee shop. It had been serene; not many ventured outside in this weather. Yet, you'd smiled behind the lapel of your jacket when something other than cloudy skies and rain doused everything in a hue of grey.

You'd been in such a good mood that when you returned home with some pastries to go, saffron and caramel the main components in the golden danishes and tarts, you started a deep cleaning of your flat.

With the least Christmasy of Christmas songs playing from your speakers, you put up some festive lights, the warm glow softening every hard edge.

Although, while you're balancing on your stool, using some double-sided sticky tape to fasten a string of light behind your curtains, the music from your speakers is cut off by your phone ringing. You didn't think twice about heading to your phone, believing it was Marissa or one of your other friends. Yet, you stall when spotting the caller I.D. lighting up your screen.

Two weeks. John said his deployment would last two weeks. Of course, you would've been happy if he returned home earlier on any other occasion. But something made your stomach twist and your brows furrow when John now was calling less than a week and a half after he left.

"John?" You ask tentatively after answering the call and putting it on speaker.

"Sorry, lass, probably not the John ya wanted". Your heart fucking drops, your face falling in record time when it's a Scottish accent and not the easily recognisable British variant greeting you.

"J-Johnny?" Your voice breaks halfway through, unable not to. Even tears managed to well in the short seconds you realise what this call might be.

"Hey, easy, Price is alive and kickin'-"

"Oh god", you choke out the words, dropping to the couch behind you as you'd remained standing since you answered, for some reason. The tears that collected in the corner of your eyes trail down your cheeks upon your eyes shutting, more so from the sudden burst of relief than the fear that brought them.

"Fuck, you scared me, Johnny".

"Should've started with that", he excuses with a slight, strained chuckle before he clears his throat. "But... still callin' for a reason".

"Yeah, gathered that much", you return, wiping away your tears with your shirt sleeve.

"Captain got downed durin' the mission, nasty shot in the shoulder".

"What?" Your motion stills when you register what Johnny said, gaze falling to stare at the call-time ticking away tauntingly slow.

"Last time I saw him, he was in the infirmary and had just returned from a quick surgery".

"But is he alright?" You bring your phone closer to your face as if it somehow would make Johnny feel how you pressed for an answer.

"Huffin' and groanin' 'bout it but fine otherwise. He wanted me to call ya, knowin' the pain-meds he was forced to take wouldn't help him give good 'nough explanation of things".

"Okay, okay", you mumble. He's alive. Hurt but alive.

"He'll need to stay a while. But ya can come to see him if ya want".

"I can?"

"'Course, we'll be able to get ya a visitin' pass".

"Oh, thank you, Johnny", you breathe out.

"Nothin' to thank, lass. Can't stand the Captain's grousin' anymore". You chuckle half-heartedly at that. "I'll send you the details 'bout the visit and some information that's needed".

"Yes, yes, absolutely". You nodded along even if the Scot couldn't see the motion. "Send it over, and I'll fill out whatever's needed".

You don't know how much of a shit show things had turned into for them to return home early. Although, it must have been bad if not only John didn't go unharmed from it, but even Johnny seemed to have seen better days.

It was hard not to notice his roughened-up look when he met you by the army base's outer perimeter about two hours later. There were a few cuts and bruises littering his face, and even though the Scot didn't hesitate to bring you into a comforting hug as you jumped out of your car, you noted the slight wince he waved off as a 'bruised everything'.

Even if you'd been shaken after ending the call with Johnny, you attempted to calm down, telling yourself 'John's fine' before leaving your flat. Yet, those nerves flared right up when you entered the small visitors' centre beside the road. Thankfully, the very man who'd given you the news of John seemed to notice that the military surroundings were vastly unfamiliar and unnerving for someone not used to them, especially considering why you were here.

Johnny kept close the entire time, helping you with the needed papers for the visitor's pass by pointing to where your signature was required, even if he talked familiarly with the armed guards all the while.

You took deep breaths to steady yourself numerous times, feeling the Scot's attention fall on you each time he noted the same unease he previously only caught over the phone. You knew you weren't succeeding in hiding your nerves. Nevertheless, between being in a strongly off-limits zone for usual civilians and the fact you wouldn't be here if John wasn't in a hospital bed, you don't think Johnny or any of the other soldiers blamed you for it.

When everything was finally signed and read through, Johnny scribbled his signature on the dotted line beside yours on the last page.

With the I.D. around your neck, you exited the smaller building and jumped into your car again, only now the Scot hitched a ride back with you.

Your fingers rapped against the steering wheel once you were let through the gates and rolled forwards, teeth worrying your lower lip, eyes trained on the main compound further ahead.

"Lass", your eyes had swiftly adverted to Johnny, noticing his eyes shifting to your hands. You stopped with a tight lipped smile, your gaze having adverted forward again. "Price is roughened up but fine. He's been through much worse".

"I know", you sighed, having to hold yourself from going back to biting your lip. You'd seen John's scars, some on worryingly critical places on his abdomen. "But I haven't been there to see that...", you mumbled, eyes fixed on the parking lot ahead.

You and Soap didn't share much chatter as you parked, nor more than needed as he guided you through the building closest to the parking lot. However, he offered a reassuring squeeze of your shoulder when he saw you hesitate in the elevator upon reaching the medical wing.

A327. That was the room John apparently was in.

You looked at each door you passed, waiting for the right one.

324. 325. 326.

Your heart thudded hard in your chest as you finally reached 327.

With hands intertwining hands, fingers wringing each other, you merely stand rooted before the door. All of a sudden hesitant to step inside.

"He's gonna be fine, lass". Johnny's comment makes you look up at him. A gentler smile than usual meets you, causing you to release the breath you didn't know you held as you nod. "Let's get ya to meet him". The Scot gives you an encouraging smile as he opens the door, motioning for you to enter.

John's already facing your way when you step into the room that nearly shines white and beige. But your gaze only briefly meets his before it drops, flittering over his form.

He rests beneath multiple blankets that reach his stomach, his upper body clad in a soft white t-shirt that doesn't look like his own. Your jaw clenches when you spot his arm in a sling, stabilising it against his chest. As your eyes trail further upwards, a distressed sound bubbles up in your throat upon spotting the bandages peeking from beneath the left sleeve.

"John-", you don't manage to say anything more before you stutter to a stop, chest heaving on a sharp inhale.

"C'mere, love", his voice is hoarse, strained, barely more than a grating sound, but you move forward as on command.

You can't help how your mouth purses at how tired he looks, the hint of pain in his eyes so evident when you stop beside the bed.

"M'fine", John raises the arm of his healthy side, even so, he winces, eyes shutting tightly for a brief moment before they open again.

"Don't lie, I see that you're not", you murmur as you take hold of the hand that tried to reach your face, allowing his upper arm to drop and rest along the bed, instead meeting him halfway by bending down to kiss his knuckles.

John exhales deeply, eyelids fluttering close, the crease between his brows never smoothening. God, it hurts to see him like this.

You step closer, the side of the bed pressing into your thigh, planting a kiss at the very centre of the furrow. When you look down at John again, his features have softened, but his eyes still have a troubled look when that blue gaze meets yours.

"I'll leave ya two to it". You look over your shoulder, sending Johnny a look of gratitude.

"Thank you, Soap", John says. The Scot only nods in return, giving you a last look before he exits.

Once you're alone with John, you exhale almost painfully before gazing down at him.

"You don't know how scared I got when Johnny called", you admit. This time, John pulls your hand rather than face towards him, tipping his head forward to plant a firm kiss against your knuckles. "Thought-"

"Sit down, love". Upon catching your distress, John pats the side of his bed with a gentle voice. Although his attempt does little to ease your nerves, seeing how the slight move of his legs sideways to give you space only makes his features twist.

"Not a chance", you protest with a shake of your head, fearful of accidentally hurting him more. Instead, you glance around the room, finding a pair of chairs along the wall.

John doesn't hold you back as you release him and move towards them, but you guess it's more because he can't then don't want to.

You pull the chair along and put it as close to the hospital bed as possible, not hesitating to lean over the low metal railing at the side to hold John's hand again after sitting down, your other hand settling on his forearm, rubbing soothing motions.

You gaze up at the blue-eyed man, those pretty eyes of his duller than usual, exhaustion shining in its own faded might. His brown hair is one of the few darker accents in the room; the screen of the heartbeat monitor is the other source. Yet, it's matted, fallen to its own will against his forehead rather than styled into something casual by his fingers running through it and pushing it backwards.

Leaning forwards, your card your hand through John's hair, not nearly correcting it to how he usually does, but better nonetheless.

Your gaze flitters to meet his when you settle back in your seat, noting the smile adorning his lips.

"Happy to see you again, love". Not daring to test your voice, you kiss his knuckles in return. This time, you're positioned low enough that John's hand goes to cup your face when you lean away again, brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek. "Even if it could've been under better circumstances".

You don't notice it until John's thumb paints a streak of wetness over your skin, but he redirects a stray tear rather than letting it follow its natural path.

"You're here. That's what matters". You squeeze John's wrist, leaning away to wipe your cheeks yourself, offering him a smile with a breathed chuckle.

"Was never not close to return". John wraps his hand over yours, letting them drop to the bed as he reflects your smile. "Shoddy shot whoever they were, used a handgun in close combat and still missed the brachial artery and brachial plexus", John releases one of those huff-chuckles of his. You shake your head, having no idea what difference it would make if whoever shot him hadn't missed those points, only that it probably would've been a lot worse.

"What- what went wrong?" Your gaze flickers to his injured side.

A heaved sigh escapes him before he speaks.

"Mission was bumpy from the start but went fine". You knew he let confidential details out, but you didn’t want to know anything apart from what happened to him. "Needed to wait out exfil in an abandoned buildin'. Remained remarkably silent until we got the call to move to the pick-up point. Got ambushed, absolute shitshow". He shakes his head with a grunt.

"How's the others?" You'd seen two of the four men, though Ghost and Kyle's absence suddenly irked you upon hearing what John told you.

"Bruised but none too badly". John ran his thumb over your hand. A low, partly amused, partly exasperated huff escaped him as he continued. "My turn to take the brunt for the team, it seemed".

Even if you could've wished for a better outcome for John, at least none of the others had gotten off worse.

You suck your lower lip between your teeth as you really try to take in his state, trying, only try again to find your words. Seeing John like this almost feels wrong.

You'd witnessed his soft side, but this wasn't soft. This is hurt. He wasn't sluggish as when you managed to keep him in bed rather than rise with the birds on the occasional weekend. This was exhaustion, one he tried to hide, but the lines on his face exposed nonetheless.

Barely anything could've pulled your attention from John as you tried to find your words, any consolidation that wouldn't sound like pity. And yet, when a knock sounded from the door, soon after swinging open, both your and John's eyes are pulled to the entrance.

When you spit the woman striding into the room, your brows jump up.

"Kate? Didn't think you would be here". Upon noticing you sitting by John's side, the American woman stalled, the computer beneath her arm pulled in front of her.

"I was involved in the mission the boys went on". She juts her chin towards the man at your side. "Mind if I speak to him?" Her tone wasn't stern, nothing hinting at malice or desire to break you and John up. Still, it didn't really sound like she asked.

You looked from Kate to John, not really stunned compared to feeling how a bubble unexpectedly broke. "Oh, yes, of course, I'll wait outside".

Considering how neither stopped you as you stood, John only squeezing your hand before letting go, you took it as an affirmation this wasn't a conversation you had any clearance to be present for and that one way or another would've happened either way.

Even so, Kate offers you a kind smile as you pass her on the way out. Yet, you note the blonde woman's features looked tighter than on the night of the party, without a doubt due to the predicament making John end up in a hospital bed.

When the door falls shut behind you, you lean against the wall just to the left of the entrance. It's silent to a degree you would guess the room John's in is semi, if not entirely, sound-proofed. Considering it isn't an emergency wing, you wouldn't disregard the possibility.

You sigh, eyes falling close. What a fucking day.

You don't know how long you stand like that, but you're only dragged out from whatever trance you entered once you catch the elevator stopping on your floor and the steps coming closer soon after. Considering you'd anticipated a nurse or the like, your brows rise when the pristinely white surroundings suddenly stand in stark contrast to the person dressed in dark army clothing.

"Heard from Soap you would be around". You smile as you push off the wall, meeting Kyle as he closes the distance between you. "How are you holding up?" The question brushes past your shoulder as he brings you in for a hug before keeping you within arm's distance, studying what must be your tired features.

"As good as can be". You smile in return. The young Brit rubs your upper arms reassuringly as he nods, seeming content with your answer as his arms drop to his sides. "You here to visit John?"

"I was, got some gaps in my schedule", Kyle confirms before cocking his head. "But I guess I'll have to wait, considering you're not there with him".

”Kate is paying him a visit”. He looks at the door with a furrowed brow before his attention tracks back to you and it smoothens. ”If you wanna greet him, maybe you have enough authority to”. Kyle only shakes his head.

”If Laswell wanted to talk to him first, there’s a reason. The rest of us will know in due time. Hopefully, he ain't such a grouse by then”. He shrugs, and you can't stop your laugh. This time, it's not half-hearted nor forced.

"All of you laying it on thick about how grumpy he is".

"He isn't such a charmer when things don't go his way and he isn't surrounded by pretty faces". You swat Kyle on the arm as he sends you a look. "Only telling you the truth, not all of us get special treatment".

"Yeah, yeah, alright", he nudges your shoulder with his knuckles before stepping backwards.

"Send the Cap'n my regards, have to be on my way".

"Will do. Have a good day, Kyle". He gives you a nod of goodbye in return as he turns on his heel, heading back to the elevator he came from a few minutes ago. You offer him a last wave before the door closes.

Alone again, you look at the clock on the wall. But, considering you have no recollection of when you exited the room, you can't tell how much time has passed since Kate arrived, only guessing it must be at least a dozen.

You scan the corridor, finding sporadic rows of chairs along the wall, similar to the ones in John's room. Not knowing how long John and Kate's unofficial meeting would continue, you move to one of the seats across from where you'd stood, fishing up your phone to make time pass faster as you sit down.

Taking note this time, you know another ten minutes have passed before the door opposite you opens and pulls your eyes from your screen.

You slip your phone into your pocket as you push up from the seat and head towards Kate, Even though she’s keeping the door open with one hand on the handle, you barely catch the end of John's sentence before it ends.

Just as you reach her side, Kate's attention trails from John to you, giving you space to enter by stepping out of the room. Flashing her a brief smile, you move forward but suddenly gets halted when her hand slips around your upper arm.

"It's good to see the Captain's got someone with him", her voice is lowered, only for you to catch.

Your lips tug upwards in a genuine smile. Without really knowing how to answer that, you offer Kate a nod and a small 'thank you' in return.

The smile she reciprocates with is much less strained this time around. "Take care of him now".

"I will". And with that, she nods goodbye, heading down the hallway while you re-enter the room.

"Spoke with Kyle". You begin while closing the door behind you. "He says hello". You forward his message to avoid forgetting.

When your eyes fall upon John, whom you barely catch an answer from, at least not more than a hum, you notice how he's sunken deeper into the bed.

"You tired?" You retake your place in the armchair as he hums again. As John scoots closer to your side and stretches his hand towards you, you settle your elbow on the bed and intertwine your hands again.

"Laswell was worried, wanted to check in and inform me some things that needed finishin' could wait". The pauses between his words were prolonged, and the pronunciation drawled as he briefed you on his conversation with Kate. "Should finish them, though", he grunted, trying to sit up straight against the pillows, but you settled a hand on his stomach.

"You need to rest, John. If Kate said things could wait, trust her". He stilled, looking back at you with slow, almost drowsy blinks.

"Fine", he agreed, settling into the bed again.

As he sighed, eyes fluttering close, you felt something bleed from your body, making your upper body relax forwards, head settling on the verge between John’s hip and his lower stomach. Feeling the weight, his eyes flutter open, head tilting forward as he gazes at you.

"Mm, talk to me, love, what you've been up to".

"Not much, really. I worked and met up with some friends. Oh, Marissa and I went on a little investment spree for Christmas".

"Investment?" John humours in a low voice, the twitch in his mouth unable to pull his lips into a complete smile compared to only tilting the edges upwards.

"If they're going to be reused yearly, that's an investment". He chuckles deeply, and you release a chuckle of your own.

You continue talking about what you've done in the week and a half you've been apart. Some Christmas baking, putting up decorations as of today, noting how most things out of the ordinary related to the holiday season.

Gradually, you notice how John's eyes fall close. Even so, he's still invested in the conversation with few-worded responses. But even those soon become nods and hums when his hand relaxes in yours. As you move to gently trail your fingers up and down his forearm, all while continuing to talk, the soothing motions make him heave a sigh.

Soon enough, the only sounds he lets out are the breaths escaping his parted lips, his softened breathing followed by the rhythmic movement of his chest.

You trail off in your sentence with a small smile, watching John's sleeping features. No furrow pulls his brows together, no involuntary twinge in his features letting on his pain. He looks at ease, and it finally settles your nerves as well.

In stark contrast to how you notice John's consciousness slipping, you don't detect yours slowly doing the same.

Your movements up and down his skin slowly grow shorter, from trailing between his wrist to the crook in his arm to only rubbing the spot your hand eventually stills on. The tension in your neck releases from the claws of whatever emotions had built throughout the tumultuous day, your head feeling heavier as it rests against his stomach. There's a fine line between when your blinking turns from slow to prolonged, even slimmer to when you can pinpoint your last conscious thought.

You're not the first to wake up. John's the one who stirs when a knock sounds from the door.

If not for the pain in his shoulder, despite being suppressed, he wouldn't blink his eyes so blearily and feel his mind sluggishly awake compared to what's expected of someone like him. Even so, his senses are sharper than yours as he notes your form slumped over the bed and your head resting on him, serene features remaining much like your steady breaths bleeding through the blankets.

His eyes trails to the door, releasing a low sound that must have sounded like a grunt to whoever was on the other side, but he couldn't care. The door swings open, Soap stepping through it much like he'd done a few hours earlier, but then with you by his side.

Now, the Sctosman closes the door behind him gently upon noting your sleeping form before his attention settles on John.

As Soap steps further into the room, John's eyes flit down to your sleeping form before rising again. With a swift look at the clock, he knows what the Sergeant is probably here for. He softly settles his hand upon your head.

You don’t remember falling asleep, only that John did, so when you’re roused from a dreamless nap by a hand cradling your scalp, you feel groggy when sitting up straight all too suddenly.

You blink repeatedly as your vision focuses again, finding John looking at you, his hand sliding down to the back of your head and down your arm.

"Sleep well?"

"Mhm". You roll your head, twitching at the twinge in your neck from your not-so-ergonomic sleeping position.

"Not the comfiest spot for ya". The Scottish accent catches you off-guard, as last you checked, only you and John were in the room.

You turn around, spotting the very Scot who'd spoken. "Oh, hi, Johnny".

"Hey, lass", he chuckles in return. "Just came ’bout to inform ya there’s a room waitin' if ya want to stay the night".

Your brows lift, eyes shifting to John, who's already watching you. "You don’t need to. I’ll be holed up here either way".

"It will just be less travel tomorrow", you shrug, turning back to Soap as you confirm you'll stay.

"Come on then, lass, visitin' hours are over soon". He opened the door slightly as he spoke, showing you he would guide you to your room for the night. You nodded, shifting out of your seat to stand, not without looking down at John.

"Go, get some proper sleep", he nudges your hip. You give him a brief smile before bending down, pressing your lips against his. They're chapped, but their plush warmth is soft. As you part from him, you mumble a 'goodnight' against him, an equally low 'goodnight, love' murmured against your lips, warming you further before you pull away.

You place the chair back where it's meant before fetching your things from beside the bed and offer John a last parting smile and a 'see you tomorrow'.

Just before you pass through the door, you look back at John, offering him a small wave, one he answers with a warm smile.

"You really turn the Captain into a love-sick man", Johnny's comment comes seconds after the door closes. You turn to him, seeing the amused look he sends you.

"Oh, shut up". You swat Johnny's arm, making him bark out a chuckle.

"Ain't nothin' bad, lass", he mused, nudging you back with his elbow.

The Scotsman lead you to another part of the compound, a freestanding building just across the one you exited, at the other side of the parking lot.

It had begun snowing. Fat constellations of powdery white fall through the air as you trudge through what's already covering the ground. You flick up the lapel of your coat, burrowing your nose in the fabric as you protect your eyes from the snowflakes desiring to stick to your lashes.

When you entere the building you'd been heading toward, the warmth inside was a welcoming change, and you shrug away the snow that had yet to melt into the dark fabric enveloping you.

This time around, there was no need to sign papers as upon your arrival, Johnny simply led you straight to the room appointed for you, handing you the key when stopping outside the door. As you entered, you were surprised, not knowing what you'd anticipated, but certainly not a space similar to a hotel room.

A low whistle pulls your eyes to Johnny. "Aye, not bad", his eyes rove over the room before settling on you.

"Much better than I thought", you agree, stepping inside, shrugging the bag off your shoulder, and simply putting it on the floor.

"Didn't think we would put ya in the barracks, did ya?"

"Never experienced military hospitality before, but didn't expect much", you shrug, smiling in return as you turn to face him.

He shakes his head. "That's the thanks", he quips, yet his grin deceives him. "I'll see ya in the mornin', lass".

"Johnny!" He halts in the step he'd begun to take, watching you with raised brows. "Just, thank you for... everything today". His fingers rap against the door handle as he shifts the weight on his feet.

"Knew it probably would be tough for ya and that Price probably hadn’t even thought ‘bout having ya visit here yet. S’jus' wanted to make it as smooth as possible for the both of ya. Know he would've done the same for the rest of us", he shrugs with a gentle smile. Johnny's consideration warming your heart.

"Thank you, really".

The side of his mouth bows upwards. "Ya are welcome". And with that, he closes the door.

***

When you wake up in an unfamiliar room, remembering where you are takes a few seconds. Then it comes rushing back as you see the visiting pass on the bedside table. Johnny’s phone call. John’s injury. The military base.

You sit up with a jawn, peeking out the room's sole window.

It’s utterly white outside, with no cloud in the sky as the sun just about peeks over the horizon, suggesting today will be considerably colder than yesterday.

Slipping from bed, you’re quick to dress yourself. The t-shirt you slept in gets stuffed into your handbag as you only shrug on the hoodie from yesterday, slipping into your pants not soon after.

You move to the bathroom, lamenting the lack of anything to freshen up. Even so, you splash your face with water, trying to tame your hair before sighing heavily, simply fetching the hair-tie you’d remembered to take off your wrist before bed.

Moving around the room, you remember the package of gum you’d thrown into your bag a few days ago, hoping you hadn’t chewed through the whole package when it would ease your mind about morning breath.

You rummage through your bag, cursing what yesterday didn't feel like a lot of stuff, but now does as you search for what you need.

A swift two-rap knock echoes from the door just as a triumphant sound escapes you when you spot the silvery package. Popping a gum into your mouth, you move towards the entrance, not surprised to find Johnny on the other side as you swing it open.

”Good morning”.

Johnny cocks his head as you smile at him before he splits into his own grin. ”Ya seem cheery this mornin’.”

”Seeing that John’s doing good helped me sleep better”, you shrug, catching a hum from him as you turn around to collect your stuff around the room. ”And then the bed was surprisingly good”.

”These ones are heaven in comparison to those in the barracks”.

”Yeah?” You turn towards the Scot standing with his hands behind his back, waiting at the doorstep.

“Aye, happy to not be rookie anymore”.

”Understandable”, you chuckle as you and Johnny step out into the hallway before tracking the same path you’d done yesterday. You could’ve done it yourself but had an inkling that you couldn’t move freely on the base.

”So you’re my guide while I’m here?” Blue eyes flicker down to you as he lets you pass out the door to the courtyard first.

It’s indeed colder today than yesterday, the chill biting your cheeks.

”Aye. Concernin’ Price was bed-bound; I needed to sign those papers in his stead”.

”And you don’t have better things to do?”

”L.T. gave me five minutes to spare”.

”From what?” The snow crunches beneath your shoes.

”Whatever drill he set up to run us into the ground”. You let out a surprised laugh at that, making the Scot grin. ”Yaself then, lass, goin’ to keep an eye out on the Captain for us when he leaves?”

Your eyes widen, switching to look at Johnny once evading an ice-spot as you cross the parking lot. ”He’s cleared to go home?”

”Haven't got any confirmation on it. But he's got no vital injury and has stayed close to two days, so it’s probable he’ll get to go home”, he shrugs.

The warmth rushes against your face as you enter the main building, much like yesterday, taking a right towards the medical wing.

”Feel like I’ll need to. Otherwise, he’ll stress the injury”.

”Wouldn’t be the first time any of us did that”. Johnny rubbed his neck as you raised your brows at him. He positioned himself opposite you as you stepped into the elevator, giving you a sheepish shrug. ”Comes with the job sometimes despite medical leaves”, the Scot excused the habit, only making you roll your eyes with a disbelieving huff.

”Then I’ll definitely have to ensure he takes it easy”. The doors close, and the elevator smoothly rises.

”Price won’t be able to say no to ya, never has since he met ya”. When your head dips into a shake this time, a smile adorns your lips that you try to hide. Even so, the Scot slung his arm around your shoulders with a laugh as you exited the elevator upon its chime and the doors opening.

The walk to John’s room seems much shorter than yesterday, without a doubt, because you know of his stable state. So when Johnny drops his arms from your shoulders, it’s not with bathed breath you open the door.

Unlike yesterday, your eyes don’t lock with John’s the second you enter the room designated to him. His gaze remains cast downwards on the tablet in his lap, even if his head tilts your way to show he noted someone had entered. Not until the Scot behind you offers a ’Mornin’ Captain’ does the man in the bed look up.

”What was that about makin’ him take it easy?” Johnny chuckles lowly, making you send him a look before he departs with a mock salute. You only shake your head at the man before entering the room.

”Aren’t you meant to take it easy?” You watch John with a raised brow, catching how the door slides close behind you while you slip out of your coat.

”I am”.

”Let me rephrase”, you chide him with a smile. ”Shouldn’t you relax, no work?” You move to the side of his bed with one of the chairs dragged along behind you.

”I-

”Don’t say that you are John. I know that look on your face”, you remark with a finger towards the easing purse of his lips and the furrow between his brows that’s not brought on entirely by pain like yesterday.

He sighs heavily, a locking sound coming from the tablet as he drops it screen-down in his lap. ”You’re right”.

”I know I am”. John releases a huff of laughter through his nose at your comment, softening your smile. ”Did you sleep well?”

He hums. ”Woke a few times ’cause of this-”. He jerked his head to his shoulder. ”Bed probably goin’ to set off my back”, he scoffed in annoyance at having to deal with the twinge in the lower part of his spine that you’d learnt most often came and went more frequently after he returned from a deployment or a bad mattress.

You hum, leaning forward to card your fingers through his hair that had fallen across his forehead after his previous jerky movement. While you do, you catch John returning the question, but your answer is an undeveloped ’good’, all your attention upon the locks your fingers card through.

His hair feels matted, and when your eyes briefly flicker over his face, you note his beard is untamed, not grizzly, but it’s lost the shine it usually always has.

”When was the last time you showered?”

”That's your way of tellin’ me I smell?” Your nose scrunches, hand falling to rest on the metal railing as your gaze locks with John’s amused one.

”No, at least that wasn’t what I was getting at”.

A chuckle precedes the more serious answer you get. ”About a week ago at the last safe-house, haven’t been able to have one after returnin’. Can’t wet the bandages”. You purse your lips, gaze momentarily switching to his shoulder before trailing back.

”How long before you can take them off?”

”The Doc visited before you came around and said I’m clear to leave, but the bandages needed to stay on until tomorrow”.

You nod. ”Johnny betted you would be able to go home today”.

”We know how these thing goes. Instructions about wound care, then sent off on med-leave before even attempting to come back and get shot at again”.

”Jesus, John”, you let out a chuckle of disbelief, shaking your head. When you raise it again, there’s a slight tug in the corner of his mouth and a knowing, truthful, look in his eyes. "Better we get you home and start the arduous wait, then." You offered him a smile and a raise of your brows, silently wondering if he was ready to pack up.

"Can't wait".

It wasn't a hassle to get John out of bed. He groaned and gruffed to himself as he pushed himself upright with your hand steadying him on his back, but that was about it. As he rose from the bed, you helped him into his boots and gently slung the jacket draped over his duffel-bag on the other side of his bed.

You'd sent him a look when he'd noted you of the bag's presence, remembering it wasn't there yesterday, to which he only explained Kyle got around and dropped off his things just after the Doctor had visited.

Although standard issued and didn't seem too heavy once you made the proposition to carry it instead of him, you cursed in disbelief when slinging it over your shoulder, not anticipating its weight. It had given John a good laugh before offering to take it regardless. However, you remained stubborn, motioning for him to take the lead out of the room with a 'you don't know how heavy our purses can be sometimes'.

But you don't enjoy a second of it as you trudge through the building; you more than John slowing the tempo. He catches you grumbling under your breath numerous times about what he's got in there, falling back to walk beside you once you reach the parking lot, mentioning he doesn’t desire looking back and find you toppled over in a heap of snow. He'd gotten another glare upon that comment.

You'd thought the drive home to John's would've been less arduous, but you'd found yourself unable to relax just as much, but for entirely different reasons.

With each turn of the car, you noticed how John braced his feet against the floor so as not to move in his seat, his free hand slipping beneath the seat belt to keep it from digging into his injury at times.

The way he acted made you all the more cautious in your driving, even picking routes that had more straight for his sake. You knew John noticed when you didn't take the usual right about halfway through the drive by the glance in your direction.

By the time you pulled into his driveway, the sky had darkened, and snow had started falling, making your and John's retreat into the house from the car hasty. Nonetheless, he managed to escape the weather that was worsening by the second much quicker compared to you as you fetched his bag from the booth.

You don't take more than a few steps into the foyer before you slip John's bag to the floor. When the pressure of the straps disappears, you sigh in relief.

John's chuckle makes you send him a glare. However, it melts away when your gaze finds the absolute disarray of his hair, now a combination of dirty and wet from the snow.

"Come one, I'll help you freshen up". You say, closing the door behind you, shielding you from the chilling cold.

"No need, love". You send him a look over your shoulder as you take off your coat, finding John stepping out of his barely laced boots.

"Why? You always have a shower when you get home?"

"If you have forgotten, can't get this wet for a day more". John nods to his shoulder as he faces you. "Can just wait 'till tomorrow".

Your brows furrow, and your hand falls to your hip while hanging up your coat. "John, I know how religious you are about your routine once you come home. There is no need to skip it just because you can't do it yourself when I simply can help".

You see his resolve falter somewhat as he regards you. "You don't mind?"

"Not at all", you shake your head. "Wouldn't mind a hot shower to warm up in this cold house of yours". A smile tugs in the corner of your lip when you end the sentence with an exaggerated wink.

It makes John chuckle as he shakes his head before those blue eyes rise to follow you when you approach. "Don't think I could supply that need now".

"Out of us two, I'm the one who can go a bit without being dicked-down". You kiss John's cheek as you slide the jacket from his shoulder, catching the harsh sigh as you wander to hang up his piece of clothing beside yours.

"That a challenge?" He hums as his un-injured arm sneaks around your waist as you finish your task, gently turning you around to pull you towards him. "Besides, I got other ways to satisfy you".

"Oh, I know". You give John a softer look as your hand slides down his forearm before gripping his hand, moving it to hang beside your bodies. "But let's listen to the doctor for now and let you heal up first". You offer him a smile as you back away and head into the house, John letting himself be led by you as you steer towards the stairs.

Not until you've reached his bedroom do you let go of his hand, ushering him to the bathroom as you move to his dresser. You swiftly dig through it for a new pair of pants, opting not to bring a shirt, believing neither of you could bother the hassle of attempting to put it on.

"Strip", you wave your finger towards John as you step over the threshold to join him in the en suite.

"Thought Doc's orders applied". You catch the smugness in his voice, sending him a humoured look, one he answers with a wink as he moves to sit down on the lid of the toilet. While John rid himself of the pants he'd gotten from the hospital, you place his own pair on the sink.

While he kicks them aside, your attention falls on the white shirt still covering his upper body. A furrow enters your brows, lips pursing. It would be challenge to take it off even if you helped him, being an uncomfortable and possibly painful process no doubt.

"Just cut it off". Your eyes meet John's, checking if you heard him right. With his head falling sideways in a nod, you move to the sink drawer to fetch the scissors, silently agreeing it might just be the easiest thing to do.

Mindful of the sling and bandages, you rid John of the thin cotton shirt, leaving him in only his boxers briefs.

While you turn around to throw the strips of his shirt into the bin, John stands, moving around you toward the shower. By cocking your hip, you swiftly close the drawer after putting back the scissors.

As you turn to say something to John, you catch him stabilising himself on the edge of the sink, knees just about to bend. Realising what he is about to do, all your previous thoughts are promptly cut short.

”You’re not kneeling on the floor." John stalls in his movement, looking at you. If he says anything in return, you don't catch it as you're already on your way out of his room.

The spare bathroom, which was under renovation the first time you visited, has now been finished. But you remember the stool John had used was yet to be taken to the spare room downstairs. Although you'd reminded him about it every time you'd been over, now you were thankful as you could fetch it as something John could sit on rather than the floor.

With a slight shuffling step, you bring the stool along with you and to where John waits, leaning against the sink, his eyes finding you the second you're visible through the open door of his en suite.

"Sit”, you motion to the stool you brought once John had moved to the side and let you set it down inside the shower's glass doors. A slight tug that doesn't evolve into a smile is present at the edge of his mouth as he follows your command.

When John makes himself comfortable on the stool, you gently nudge the back of his head with your fingers, urging him to bow forward to make it easier for you. Even sitting down, he reaches your stomach.

Pushing up the sleeves of your hoodie, you turn on the tap, testing the water steadily flowing from the showerhead on your hand. When finally finding the perfect temperature, you keep the stream gentle so as not to splash the bandages covering his left arm but rather trickle forward and down to the floor.

Small groans of appreciation escape John as you wash his hair, fingers running over his scalp to wet every single strand before setting down the showerhead and massaging some shampoo over his head. Earthy and clean scents fill the warm air as it steams every reflective surface inside the bathroom.

You do a double cleanse, not because you think John needs it, but because he seems to enjoy the gentle pressure off your fingers as they run up and down his scalp.

After washing away the last sudds, you take a towel from the rack and cover his head. Your laughter fills the air as you hear the huff of amusement from beneath the fabric draped over him as you attempt to dry his hair as much as possible by ruffling the fabric.

Ultimately, you slide the towel from his head, letting it hang around his neck to catch any stray droplets from reaching his shoulder. John turns towards you upon having his vision uncovered again, and you instinctively step closer when he does, inspecting his face.

”I don’t trust myself trimming your beard”, you card your fingers through the brown strands on his cheek. A low huff pulls your eyes to the blue ones steadily watching you.

”Can do that myself in a day or two. You’ve done plenty enough, love”. John’s about to stand, but your hand softly settles on his healthy shoulder.

”I only said I don’t want to go near the best part of you with scissors”.

”The best part, eh?” He pinches the back of your lower thigh, a squeak slipping out of you as you bat his hand away with a lower lip curled between your teeth.

”Don’t bite the hand that feeds you”, you chide with an evolving smile.

You catch John’s chuckle as you switch your attention to the counter, eyeing his products as neatly lined up as usual and the set of your own products beside them. Stepping away to the sink and out of his reach, you grab one of the face towels from the stack he’d bought for you to always have at his place, along with the other products needed.

When you turn back, you set the things on the sink-edge beside you.

”Said I can’t shape it up, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make the most out of what I can do”.

”You pamperin’ me?” Your eyes flit sideways, meeting a blue gaze watching you with a tilted head.

”I’m taking care of you, John”, you corrected him as you turned to wet your hands beneath the tap and squirted some cleanser into your hands.

John doesn't respond, only remains quiet when you start coating his face in the milky substance, merely staring up at you for a few seconds before his eyes flutter close when you cock a brow down at him.

You gently rub away the invisible grime on his face, staying clear of his beard as you lather his face. Humming gently, you wipe away the suds after a few dozen seconds and continue with the beard shampoo.

You’d seen the man, who now lets his chest deflate with a content sigh as you easily angle his head backwards with a few fingers beneath his chin, do his beard-routine a few times. It wasn’t difficult to remember, and you’re happy you didn’t need to ask John and bring him out of the relaxed state he’d entered as you used one of the brushes to rub the product into his beard.

Using the opposite edge of the towel, you also dry off his beard.

You wash off the white foam from the brush as you discard the towel before coating his skin in your moisturiser, only to continue by dropping some oil into your palms before you settle them over his lower face, smoothening them over the strands.

As you shift to the sink again, you reach for his comb, only to find John’s eyes had fluttered open when you turn back.

Those blues of his are soft as you gently comb his facial hair with slow movements. His hand settles on the outside of your thigh when you pick up the beard balm, warming it between your palms. The vanilla white lotion softens and warms between your hands before you work it through his beard.

Slowly, John's hand moves to the back of your leg while fingers lightly start tracing the line of his beard and skin, both much smoother than previously.

The moment was soft, gazing at one another in silence, before you cupped John's cheek and bent down. A gentle smell of something nutty from John's beard invades your nose as you press your lips against his.

Even if you end up trading multiple kisses, the pauses never let you drift further away than for your lips to rush against one another.

John felt the last bit of tension leave his body. Something awfully soft had infiltrated his heart as you fussed around him, your hand leaving gentler touches than even the Doc had done when he’d returned from the field with his shot-up shoulder. He’d tried to ward off your help and doting, but now he realised he needed this.

He’s been on 24/7 for over a week. He’s run on less food than at home. Countless times, his mouth had watered when thinking about the roast you’d shared before his deployment. He’s run on minimal sleep for several days in a row, barely more than half asleep when given a moment of tranquillity and nowhere near as relaxed as when having you in his arms. He’d looked over his shoulder for more than double the amount, only to be hit by a bullet in the end anyway, coming home broken.

John pulls away, cupping one of the hands that rests on his cheek, turning to kiss your palm. But, when he gazes at you again, your brows draw together.

”Don’t”.

"I didn’t say anythin'"

You only shake your head. "I know what you’re thinking, and no, you're not a burden".

"But I'm a broken man at the moment, love. Just see how much you've needed to do today", he scoffs, letting go of your hand, letting his fall onto his lap. You stop John from turning his head to the side, away from you, instead forcing him to watch you.

You look down at the man who meets your gaze with an almost sorrowful look. "And you think that bothers me?"

"Why wouldn’t it? It’s not your responsibility. Should just not have gone about gettin’ shot-".

"Jonathan Price". The use of his government name shuts his grumbling right up, his eyes even widening the slightest bit. "What bothers me isn’t that you got shot. I know the dangers of your work. What does bother me is seeing you in pain".

"I appreciate it, but there’s no need for you to do all this, to care for me". His voice is softer, but you still shake your head.

"Yes, there is because I love you". You barely notice the weight of what you say, those three chosen words leaving your lips in a too-natural fashion to be the first time. But rather than reluctance preceding and nerves following them, there's a sense of them being long overdue in the first place.

"I hate how much it hurts seeing your pain, so it’s not that I need to do anything for you. I very much care because I want to, John".

Compared to a few moments ago when John wanted to turn away from you, now he can't take his eyes off you. Whatever murky emotion which clouded his eyes has lifted, those blues clearer than ever as he stares right back at you, lips slightly parted.

"I’ve said it before, but you're too good for me".

"They say you get what you deserve". You offer John a smile, and something just crumbles then.

"God, you don’t know how much I love you, darlin’".

Your chest swells, heart suddenly pumping much warmer blood through your body. "So let me take care of you now when you need it".

"I- of course", he breathes, voice remarkably thin to support his gravelly cords as he shuts his eyes tightly. John gives you a single nod instead of attempting to continue his sentence, and you lean down to press a kiss against his forehead.

His arm loops around your waist the best it can from his slumped forward angle, pulling you close so his head rests against your upper stomach. Despite his hair being wet, you card your fingers through it, kissing the top of his head, his warm exhalation warming your skin despite the thick sweater.

"Goin’ to be one hell of a Christmas". The first half of the sentence is mumbled into you, the second half clearer as John looks up at you again.

You hum, feeling how one of the strands at the back of his neck drips water onto your fingers. "I only see more of a reason to have a lazy day".

"Where you do everythin’".

"Hush, now you’ve allowed me to do the work for once". You twirl the hair at the nape of his neck, looking back into those blues.

"Still don’t want you workin’ yourself to death". He gives you an honest rather than pointed look.

"I should say that to you", you only muse lightly in return, not needing to avert your eyes to his bandages as they shine like a beacon in the corner of your vision. "And I reckon it’s going to be fine either way".

"M’sure”, his reply is hummed into the sparse space between your faces before your lips press against his in a fleeting kiss. Before you lean back and straighten, however, his hand cups the back of your neck. "Thank you for all of this, love".

"You know it’s nothing". Although John doesn’t answer as you step backwards, you don’t catch any guilt, no trace of the previous gloom in his gaze. He believes your words, the crows-feet at the edges of his eyes and smile-lines around his mouth further proof.

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bits-and-babs · 1 year

Note

Hi!! :) I was wondering if you could write a Joel Miller x female reader smut where Joel and the reader have a relatively large age gap. Y/N is new to the QZ, so she recently met Joel for the first time and became friends with him, but their relationship turns into a FWB relationship. Reader is about 20-23/in her early twenties. Possibly doggystyle?

-ˋˏ 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 ˎˊ-

— pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

— word count: 1.1k

— warnings: vague hunter/prey vibes, angry sex(?) ever so slightly mean Joel, p in v sex, cream-pie (ain’t no condoms surviving a 20 year apocalypse) ((wrap it, kids)), Peaches is a pet name— really leaning hard on the southern comfort, established FwithB relationship. 18+, ya nasties.

— authors note: I’m not sure if this is exactly what you wanted, nonny, but I got a little carried away! I enjoyed writing this so much, so I hope this makes up for it <3

joel miller masterlist I| main masterlist |I send me an ask

Crunch.

The sound of a branch snapping amongst the treeline coats your stomach with nausea, tongue tasting of bile. You’re frozen in place, hand hovering over the pistol strapped to your hip. Listen.

When you stormed out of Joel's house this morning following the blazing row, you had felt confident that you would prove him wrong.

"Don't go out on patrol alone. There's worse out there than the infected, Peaches."

It felt patronising, like Joel was emphasising your age and interfering that you could not protect yourself without him. Sure, you were too young to remember outbreak day, but that meant you’d lived this way your entire life! You could protect yourself! So you set out on the patrol trail despite the bitter cold nipping at the apples of your cheeks and the heaviness of your feet as they ploughed through the blanket of snow.

Twisting on your heel, you scan the tree line for hostiles. It’s relatively still. Instead of fungus and bloodshed, you face off against a robin perched on a branch and a set of squirrels scuttling up a dead oak trunk.

You exhale a sigh of relief, a breath you didn't realise you were holding. Of course there was no one- there hadn’t been hunters for months!

Dropping your palm away from your weapon, you allow your adrenaline to settle back into your bones. It leaves you with a film of nervous sweat on your brow. You feel ridiculous- paranoid. Like Joel's words of warning had settled into the grooves of your mind, nerves working away unnoticed.

That stupid fucking argument rings in your head. Yelling at him that this thing between you doesn’t mean he could start getting protective. You were fine without him! You’d handled everything great so far!

Confident in your safety, you continue on your path. The crunch of the snow beneath your boots is loud, drowning out the noise of the surrounding forest as your chest heaves with the afterburn of your adrenaline spike. You don’t hear him.

A hand comes over your head, smothering your gasp with its palm when it covers your mouth. Panic takes over, your knees giving out beneath you as they shove you to the snowy floor. The crown of your head is cushioned by the thick, white inches, and your fear quickly turns to aggravation as you look Joel in the eye.

“Joel-!” You hiss behind his hand, slapping his shoulder and kicking your feet, “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Told you not to go on your own.” His voice is gruff, laced with the bite of arousal when he yanks your thermal jumper out from under the waistband of your cargo pants. It’s freezing, and goosebumps litter your skin as he practically rips the zipper down and drags them over your hips.

“J-Joel-“ you fumble, watching him dip his head down to press kisses to your stomach. His beard hair is coarse against the soft flesh of your abdomen, and he sinks his teeth in just enough to leave a bruise. “Fuck!”

“Comin’ out here when I told you not to. Gettin’ all lipsy with me-“ he growls, shucking your trousers over your hips and yanking down your underwear. You gasp when your naked ass hits the snow, staring up at the older man as it melts into your back.

He’s practically tearing his clothes off, stripping the belt from his body and tossing it with an urgency you hadn’t seen in him since meeting him on these secret rendezvouses. He’s ravenous, already hard in his jeans as he begins stripping out of them. It sets your skin alight and starts a buzz in the pit of your stomach.

“Who are you, my dad?” You scoff, allowing yourself a little bite-back. It sparks something in him, his hands grabbing ahold of your body and practically hoisting you onto your hands and knees.

“Gettin’ real fuckin’ mouthy with me, Peaches,” he growls in your ear, his chest draped over your back as he sweeps his cock-head through your folds. You’re wet already, Joel’s exigency working you up before he even had a chance to touch you. “Gunna shut you up.”

God, when he pushes inside of you, a broken wail falls from your lips, your head bowing at your shoulders as you claw at the layers of snowflakes at your fingers. It’s as though he’s cracking you open, the stretch tinged with sharp pain but blooming white-hot through your body.

“Joel-!”

He shoves forward, slamming into the depths of you, and holy fuck, it’s deep. It’s as though he punches the air out of your lungs, and you’re wheezing, nails caking with dirt as you drag them across the soil.

When he thrusts, it hurts. Stings. You groan loudly, back arching as you push your hips back into him despite the feeling he’s bruising your guts.

“What was that, Peaches?” He lets out a short huff, like a laugh. You see the vapour of his hot breath hitting the out of the corner of your eye. “You got somethin’ to say?”

“N-No!” You gasp in reply, utterly submitting to the brutality of his thrusts as he rocks into you heavily.

“Hah!” He truly scoffs now, hand burying into the junction of your neck and using the grip to pull you back harder onto his cock. It winds you completely, and any noises you would make die in your throat as he continues his brutal pace. “Baby can’t think, can she?”

Then you’re sobbing, ugly, messy sobs where the tears sting your freezing cheeks as he fucks you hard and raw. It’s thrumming, buzzing around you, your orgasm building and building as he viscously punches your cervix with the head of his cock.

“I know, I know baby,” he consoles you as you practically vibrate around him, his hand sliding down the ghost of your spine through your thick winter coat. “I know, it’s so good. You’r-fuck- You’re so good- Come on, Peaches. Come on.”

His coaxing, his praise makes you clamp down around him like a vice. Your body screams, your voice ricocheting off the tree trunks, but you’re blown apart by your orgasm and you can’t even hear it. You must be letting out pathetically loud yelps because Joel amps up his thrusts by a thousand, his pace far too fast for a man of his age.

“Hnggg- Jesus-,” he lets out a strangled noise, quickly spitting out something about you creaming around his cock before his body stiffens suddenly. His earth-shattering thrusts slow to a slight rock as he pulses hot, spilling inside of you with a devastating growl of your name.

It feels like shell shock, the way your body slumps and the disembodied feeling that your afterglow leaves you with. Joel’s groaning softly, pushing up the hem of your thermals to expose your back. He presses tender kisses across your spine, blessing each vertebra with a touch of his lips as his cum runs down the inside of your thigh. He hums.

“One more, baby. Wanna give you one more-“

END

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iamasaddie · 4 months

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but, baby, it's cold outside

paring: Joel Miller x f!Reader rating: explicit (18+ minors DNI) word count: 3.3k~ summary: Joel enjoys his first white Christmas and helps you appreciate the cold.

warnings: sensory deprivation; temperature play; unprotected PinV; shitty puns; no use of y/n.

a/n: this is my late Chrismas present for @lunitawrites <3 Hope your holidays are great, and you enjoy my little gift!

MY MAIN MASTERLIST

“I can’t believe I let you do that to me, Joel Miller.”

You were walking through the snow to the cabin Joel rented for your holidays on AirBnB cursing the skies for letting that man take you here. It wasn’t like you wouldn’t have followed him anywhere, but you’d prefer ‘anywhere’ being much, much warmer. The man in front of you did not share your devastation. You don’t remember the last time your man was so excited about anything besides you. With snow almost being knee-high he still had spring in his step going further and creating a semblance of a path for you. You still managed to get snow in your uggs and when Joel looked at you over his shoulder you just gave him an irritated scowl. He chuckled, a cloud of breath escaping from his mouth as he took your hand and pulled you through the snowy trail.

“Come on, baby, white Christmas!” He threw his hands, pointing at the white expanses of snow. His cheeks were red from the cold, his beard and mustache covered in frost just around his mouth. “Just like Bing Crosby sang!”

You shook your head, unable to stay mad at Joel when his face lit up with a childish grin.

“I did everything in my power to never see snow again,” you still mumbled, “and it takes just one man to break that promise. I cannot believe it.”

You finally reached the porch of the cabin, and Joel turned around before opening the door and looked you in the eyes.

“Not just a man, baby," he grabbed the lapels of your winter coat and brought you closer to him. “A man you love.”

Admittedly, when his lips covered yours in a slow, gentle kiss, you forgot everything about being cold, and the wet sock didn’t bother you anymore. Kissing Joel was a sort of meditation for you, nothing existed when his lips were in yours. The world could collapse right beneath your feet, and you’d still be overtaken by the feeling of his hot wet tongue sliding inside your mouth, licking into you with passionate care and love. Just like he did right now. Your hands found his face, the snow from your mittens melting as soon as they got in contact with his skin. Joel scrunched his nose at the feeling, grabbing your lower lip between his teeth and pulling a little. Snowflakes melted on your noses as you stayed in each other's embrace, enjoying the warmth of the moment.

“Let’s go inside,” he finally whispered in your mouth, opening the door and grabbing your hand as he went inside.

You had to admit, the cabin was beautiful. The scent of pine almost made you forget the biting cold. The person renting it definitely had put in an effort. You noticed a modest Christmas tree in the corner, happy that you would have a place where to put your presents. The whole place looked festive with fairy lights and Christmas decorations, creating a cozy and welcoming atmosphere. You breathed lungs full of air and felt a sense of relief wash over you. Joel threw his backpack on the floor and you did the same.

“Do you like it?” He asked, with hope in his voice.

“Yeah,” you nodded genuinely, giving him another peck on the lips. “But we need to start a fire or I’m going to freeze to death.”

Of course the big fireplace wasn’t the only source of warmth in the house, yet it still took a long minute for the place to stop feeling like a cryocooler. You loved the domesticity of watching Joel make a fire. He went out a couple of times to bring enough logs to keep the fire going, and he never failed coming over where you were sprawled on the couch and shaking the snow from his hair on you. You wanted to get angry at the man, but it was impossible. His joy was disarming, and his mood started rubbing off on you.

When the fire was roaring and the wrapped presents found their place under the tree, Joel joined you on the couch, laying between your legs and resting his head on your chest. You were happy his hair had time to fully dry, a giant wet spot on your sweater would not help you keep the cheerful mood. You ran your fingers through the silken strands of brown and gray that now felt a little bit less soft. Joel almost started purring, his eyes half closed as his hands ran up and down your thighs with lazy strokes.

“So what’s with all the snow hating?” You were in silence for some time, so when Joel started speaking you almost jumped, having thought that the man had fallen asleep. "Don’t you find it romantic to have a white Christmas?”

Your hand in his hair stopped its ministrations for a moment, and you remembered the chills seeping through your skin and into your bones. The painful feeling when you froze so much that as soon as you entered a warm room it felt like you were pierced with a thousand needles. The constant greyness of the skies that were so dark no amount of lamps helped. You placed your chin on Joel’s head, mentally shaking the memories away.

“Joel, I grew up in a place that had snow six months out of twelve, sometimes I went a whole year without feeling an actual hot summer.” You had fond memories about your childhood home, but none of them were connected with winter. "Cold is terrible. No matter how much clothes you wear you’re still cold. And it’s uncomfortable. And it’s not sexy.”

“Not sexy?” Joel moved his head, craning it in an attempt to look at you and ask for further clarification. You chuckled at his confused look.

“Who would want to have sex when they’re freezing? It’s a terrible feeling.”

You genuinely thought there was nothing less arousing than having cold hands on any part of your body. It sounded more like torture to you, that cruel game your friend liked to play when they ran from the coldness of outside and tried to stick their hand under your shirt, merrily laughing at your scream. Joel hummed, but didn’t ask anything else, so you took it as a chance to ask your own questions.

“What about you?” You scratched the sensitive spot behind his ear gently, feeling goosebumps raise under your fingertips. “Why are you so excited to freeze your ass off?

“Baby, that’s the first snow I’ve seen in my life,” you heard a smile in his voice and felt your own lips stretch. "Well, not the first, but it’s the first time I’ve seen so much snow.” Joel lifted up from you a little, the space on your body that was heated by his warmth getting immediately cold. He turned his head to the left, looking outside where the winter’s darkness had already overtaken the daylight. Snow was slowly sticking to the window before melting into little drops of water. Joel was quiet for a moment, before turning to face you. "I am Texas born and raised, we don’t see snow unless it’s on TV.”

“It’s overrated.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“Nah,” the man shook his head, “you’re just used to it. But to me it's like… Imagine living deep underwater, only hearing the legends of this bright hot star called Sun, and then finally feeling its warmth on your skin.” You closed your eyes, soaking Joel’s words in. “I feel like I’m a kid again.”

You had never expected to hear those words from him, and when you opened your eyes you could almost swear something glistened in his eye. You placed your hand on his cheeks, the warm scruff tickling your palm, and Joel took a more comfortable position between your legs, placing them on his waist.

“Well then I’m glad we’re here,” you whispered honestly. “If you’re happy - I’m happy.”

Joel took your face in his hands, looking into your eyes for a long moment before pressing his lips - and body - into yours. With someone like Joel at your side it was hard to remember about the cold. Like the whole phenomena didn’t exist with the man who was currently running his giant palms over your body, sliding them under your sweater and tugging it up. You let him take it off, doing the same to his flannel. Your lips constantly crashed in kisses that became more and more desperate, the less clothes you had the stronger the urge became. You slid your palms up Joel’s broad chest, scratching the hot skin and letting your moans mix together. His hands worked your clothes with professional efficiency, leaving you naked in mere moments.

You grabbed at his jeans trying to reach for the zipper and force them off, but Joel’s hand stopped your attempts. You whined in protest and felt his nose tracing a trail from your cheekbone and lower until his lips met your neck.

“Do you trust me?” He bit on your neck, sucking the soft skin gently. You were almost out of breath, sometimes you felt like he knew your body better than you did, touching you exactly right in the places that sent fireboats through your skin.

“Of course,” you moaned, fisting his hair, but still unsure if you wanted to press him harder into your neck, or attack his mouth with yours. “Why?”

He let go of your sensitive neck, and you immediately wanted to shove him back, but he grabbed both of your hands in one of his, not letting you do that.

“Close your eyes and don’t open them.” He commanded. You furrowed your brows wondering if you heard him correctly.

“What?”

“Please, baby.” Joel looked at you intently, and you knew there wasn’t a thing you wouldn’t do for this man. When you closed your eyes, he placed a little kiss on the tip of your nose, whispering a quiet thank you and standing up from the couch.

Judging by the sound of it, he didn’t go far. You heard the rustling of wrapping paper, and in a moment felt Joel’s hand on the back of your head.

“Lift up your head a little.”

You obeyed without questions, letting Joel wrap something around your head, fully covering your eyes so that even the flickering Christmas lights weren’t able to get to you.

“You want me to be blindfolded? That’s it?” You were surprised, in the time that you were dating Joel never showed any interest in sensory deprivation besides tying or holding your hands. Quite the opposite, he had a habit of making you watch as he fucked you, sometimes dragging you to the bathroom with the sole purpose of spreading you out in front of the mirror. The blindfold was something new entirely, but you let yourself entertain the idea.

“Shhh, naughty girls don’t get presents.”

His voice was further than you expected, and you felt your naked body tense up. Straining your ears, you heard heavy footsteps that became more and more distant until the door banged.

“Joel?” You shouted in an empty house, not getting any response and getting seemingly frustrated. “Am I the contestant on ‘Naked and Afraid’?”

Distracted by your thoughts and blood already pumping through your heart harder than you were comfortable, you didn’t hear him come back. So when something cold and wet touched the heated skin of your chest you screamed, rushing to tug off your blindfold but being stopped by the hand you know intimately.

“Shh, baby,” Joel’s soothing voice made you stop panicking, “remember you told me you trusted me.”

You nodded, the want to scream at him for leaving you alone without warning slowly dissipating. You tried to will yourself to relax, succumbing to the feelings, tightened by the deprivation of visuals. There was something cold and wet, slowly trailing patterns on your skin, and it didn’t take you long to guess the origin of the mystery object.

When the path went from your collarbone and to your nipples you physically felt them harden, becoming more aware of every bit of sensation. The ice Joel circled around your areola started burning your skin, and just as you wanted to ask him to move, his lips enveloped your erect bud, laving at it with his tongue. The contrast of his scorching hot mouth on your cold skin made you arch your back, feeling arousal dripping down your ass. Joel did the same to your other nipple, biting it gently before letting it go. Your body was covered in goosebumps when he lifted his face from your skin, every wet spot felt cold and you tried to blindly find his face and press it back.

Joel gave you a small chuckle before returning the quickly melting bit of ice in contact with your skin. The contradicting sensation of hot and cold all over the sensitive parts of your body opened a new feeling of pleasure inside you. Your brain was foggy with want, body deliciously tortured by the man of your dreams that kept licking up the melted drops that traveled from your breasts and ribs into the dip of your belly button. You realized the last of it melted against your skin when Joel traveled lower, where you were dying for attention for the last hour. His lips were hot and wet with both melted ice and saliva, but when his fingers traced the burning skin of your pussy lips you gasped.

“Okay?”

He whispered his question, nosing your mound, and you let out some kind of agreeing noise because your brain refused to cooperate in full sentences or even words.

The feeling of two of his icy cold fingers spreading your lips and then entering your wet hole at the same time as his hot mouth kissed and licked on your clit almost made you cum on the spot. It was wild how two such opposite things came together in perfect balance to bring you to the heights of your pleasure. Behind the blindfold you rolled your eyes, arching your back off the couch, but feeling Joel’s other hand pressing on your stomach to bring you back. Your pussy violently contracted around his digits, warming them up until everything about him was liquid fire. His tongue circled your clit, dropping to your dripping entrance on every other stroke, licking around his own fingers that continued pleasuring you in steady pumps.

Joel knew exactly how to make you come. He learned the perfect curl of his fingers, the pressure on your clit, if there was a competition he would take every medal including the viewers choice. His fingertips continued punching your g-spot as his lips nipped on your labia. Your fingers found his hair, pressing his face harder in your pussy. The desperation in your movements made Joel moan before he finally sucked on your clit just as his fingers grazed that spongy part that brought you the most pleasure. You didn’t try to contain your scream when you came all around his fingers, and he hurried to replace them with his tongue, lapping at your entrance in an attempt to drink every drop of you.

When your body stopped shaking in the aftermath of your orgasm, Joel trailed his kisses up your body until he was once again seated between your legs. You felt the soft material of his boxers, apparently at some point he took off his jeans. His hard cock was pressing into your sensitive skin through the material, and you didn’t need to check twice to know it was soaked in his precum.

“Warm?” Joel covered his body with yours, leaving a dozen little kisses on your cheeks and jaw.

“Your fingers were too cold, I think my pussy’s frozen,” you complained jokingly, and he bit your chin.

“It’s okay,” his forehead pressed into yours, and then Joel whispered in your ear, “I got a hotcicle to warm it up.”

You bursted out in laughter, belly shaking with uncontrollable giggles. Joel was not the man who’d say shit like that, and that made the whole situation even more precious. The vulnerability that man let himself show you melted your heart like it was a snowball thrown in a fireplace. Your hands went to rip the blindfold off when Joel stopped you sitting up and grabbing your ankles practically folding you in half. Your giggles quickly died down when you felt the tip of his cock find your entrance.

“What’s so funny, baby?” He asked nonchalantly, like he wasn’t about to stuff your cunt full of his fat cock. Just as you were about to reply, he entered you in one swift motion, letting his heavy balls slap against your wet ass cheeks.

There was nothing that could get you off faster than the thick shaft of your man relentlessly pounding into you. The hotness radiated from his body even more and you felt a bead of sweat dropping on your lip. You hurried to lick it up, desperate to have more of him inside you. Joel grunted on top of you, the coarse hair above his cock teasing your oversensitive clit each time he buried himself inside you to the hilt. His broad shoulders didn’t let your legs drop as he made the best of the couch you were occupying. You felt his cock becoming even more stiff and hot inside you, thinking that it was impossible before but clearly being proven wrong. Joel’s lips found you in a semblance of a kiss, but it looked more like you were just licking each other’s mouths, tongues wet and sloppy dipping everywhere, pitting your lips and chins with saliva. His hips started stuttering, pace became more erratic, and you knew he was close. Joel traced his hand from your neck to your clit, pinching your nipple on the way. His weight was put onto his left hand as his right attacked your sensitive bundle of nerves. His thumb was sleek with all kinds of liquids, helping him stimulate your clit perfectly as he fastened his pace stretching your pussy perfectly.

“Come for me, baby, come on. Give it to me,” his voice was strained, on the verge of orgasm, and you could almost see the veins on his neck popping out, his chest red and sweaty. The image of your man on the brink of coming combined with unstoppable pleasure brought by his cock and fingers made you see all the Christmas lights with your eyes closed. Your mouth opened in a silent scream as your body continued convulsing with pleasure. Joel pulled out at the last moment, painting your puffy pussy lips with ropes of thick white cum.

His breathing was louder than the blood pumping in your ears, the sweat dripped down both of your bodies. You finally found strength to lift your hand, tugging the blindfold off and finding Joel sitting between your legs with a look. Of absolute love and adoration. His eyes followed two of your fingers as you trailed them in a slow path down to your soaked cunt. You swiped your digits through the cum covering your pussy and brought them back to your mouth to lick them clean with a deep moan.

“Mmm, my favorite frosting,” Joel looked at you in disbelief. “What? You’re not the only one who can come up with terrible Christmas puns.”

#iamasaddie fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic

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jessybarnes · 9 months

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Hello, my loves ❤️

Idk how many of you will see this, but I'm going to be revamping my Masterlist over the weekend.

I know this blog has mainly been a Marvel centric blog, but I write for many other Fandoms and I want to include those fics on this blog.

I hope that you all will enjoy them when I'm finished reconstructing my Masterlist. I have a lot of things in the works. Thank you all for bearing with me. 🥰

#j snow talks #j snow's masterlist #j snow creates #j snow writes #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom #fan fiction #fan fic writing #writeblr #my writing #writing #content creator

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me-and-your-husband · 1 year

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mine truly and forever || j. miller

summary: joel comes back to you in whatever way he can. part two of “yours truly and forever”.

warnings: smut, creampie, oral (male and female receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, unprotected sex, language, dirty talk

word count: 4k

A/N: this took me awhile to get out, sorry everybody! also, i really didn’t plan on writing a part 2 to this, but the demand was really high. not my best work, so i just fed you all with smut instead lmao

here’s my masterlist if you’d like to read more of my work!

You had long since given up hope that Joel was coming back for you.

Every morning, you woke and swallowed down the tightening in your throat, the knot in your stomach. You believed he had moved on. Maybe he found his brother and settled down with Ellie.

Anything was better than what was most likely. Anything was better than him being dead.

You rose with the sun and fell with it too, wondering every day if you’d ever see him again. If you’d ever get to laugh with him, or cry with him, or touch him. Some part of you thought that, maybe, your night spent together was just his desperation for some human touch. All you were to him was a way to satiate his desire. Maybe.

You tried not to think about it, but the thought of him him him seeped into everything you did. Feeding the cows? You thought about Joel. Harvesting? You thought about Joel. Cooking? You thought about Joel. Laying awake at night, eyes flitting across the darkness, searching for something? You thought about Joel.

So, yeah, you’d given up on the idea of him awhile ago.

It had been two years since that night. The night you gave yourself wholly to him. The night you let him into the most intimate parts of your body and soul. Since you let him crawl through you, seeing into your depths.

The first few months after him were honeyed in hope. When your alarm went off, signaling something was trying to breach your perimeter, you rushed to the camera and prayed it was Joel. It was always just some stray infected or moose or something that wasn’t him. As the snow melted, your heart was loyal. You breathed in the belief of his words every morning. The slush on the ground a reminder that he’d be safer in the warm weather, that he’d come back to you sooner. The summer was warm. Your garden thrived, preparing for his return. You ate strawberries on your porch and basked in the golden sun, soaking in the heat. Your skin dripped in sweat, heart dripping in steadfast hope.

In the winter, you faltered. You still hoped for his return, you still believed in his promise, but you started thinking about other possibilities. Though, you rarely entertained them. Another spring passed. And another summer. Another fall, winter, and spring. It was summer now, but the heat was more suffocating, the sunshine more of a nuisance.

Over the last winter, you grit your teeth and weathered your bones. You felt betrayal, deep in your gut. Had he lied? Just to keep you solitary? To keep you from chasing after him? To keep you away?

You didn’t know. You didn’t care. Did you?

You didn’t know.

You had given him everything, but he couldn’t keep a promise.

You forced yourself to separate the idea of him from who he really was. He was a man before he was yours. He craved the life that would offer him something to do. He craved you, but didn’t he crave others? Did he crave you, or did he crave someone to take care of him?

Who was Joel Miller? Who was he, and who was he to you?

Was he even the type to come back to you? No. Probably not. Not when he’s lived through this for 22 years. Not when he’s seen his friends die. Not when he’s killed. He wasn’t the type to lay down and become a farmhand.

Besides, you saw the way he looked at Ellie. Part of you was sure that he’d never leave that girl. She meant more to him than he’d ever say. He was never just yours. He never would be.

So you shoved the thought of him to the corners of your mind, rejecting it endlessly. You’d never let yourself think too hard about him, only ever letting his image flit about your mind like a lost butterfly. You shut him out and never sought him out again.

Another morning fell into your lap. The sun barely peeked over the horizon when the sound of alarms ringing out through the property jolted you awake. You rolled your head to the side to stretch a sore muscle, hand reaching under your bed for your rifle. No reason for alarm. Whatever it was, a stray infected or an animal, no doubt, would fall into one of your traps, or you’d pick it off without wasting a single bullet. All in a day’s work.

You slid on the first pair of shoes you could find, slipping out the door and making your way towards where the camera had signalled the breach. You groaned as you realized just how early it was, the sun barely illuminating the ground you stepped on.

You held your rifle out as your eyes scanned the fence line. Nothing. It must have been one of the traps that set off the alarm. Sighing, you push the buttons on the padlock and it opens the gate.

Moving to the nearest trap, you peek the muzzle of the rifle into the hole. It was still dark, but you made out a figure standing at the bottom of the pit.

“Move and I’ll fucking shoot you,” you yelled. No response, just the sound of heavy breathing. “You infected?”

Your name was whispered into the air like a breath of something you never thought you’d hear again. That beautiful, rugged, rich voice. The voice that you loved, so dearly. The voice that you hated.

“Joel?”

“It’s me, honey,” he was breathless. It was almost as if it was his first moment of rest in twenty years.

Your heart skipped a beat, breath faltering for a moment. You didn’t let the tears threatening to pool in your eyes spill. Instead, you threw your rifle to the side and got on your knees, reaching into the dark pit. “Take my hand.”

Extending your hand, you almost immediately felt his large, rough one envelop yours. You used most of your strength to pull him up, him hoisting himself up once he got a good grip. He falls on top of you with the momentum, catching himself before his figure crushes yours. You could feel his heavy breath on your face, painting invisible lines of what you both want. A sea in his eyes, pooling with everything that’s happened since he left you, with everything he wanted to say, everything he wants to say. You lean into him a little, breath hitching and brows furrowing when he finally attaches his lips to yours.

It was like an oxygen mask, breathing you to life. It was more desperate than any kiss you had shared. He was here, in your hands. He was alive. He was heart and flesh and blood and he was with you again.

Your arms pulled him in close until he groaned into your mouth. You pulled away to study his face. He didn’t meet your eyes, instead, absorbing every feature of your face that he had missed for so long.

You began to lift his shirt to see why he had groaned, but his hand on your wrist stopped you.

“Joel,” you warned. “Lift up your shirt.”

“Take me to dinner first, hey?” He chuckled. He was stalling. He didn’t want you to see whatever was under his shirt.

You gave him a warning look before he gave in. Sitting up, you gently lifted his shirt. There wasn’t a concerning amount of blood for once, just small lacerations here and there that might need a few stitches. However, the skin underneath the marks was full of vibrant purples and blues and yellows, painted across the flesh of his abdomen like some sick piece of art. A small gasp left your lips at the sight, but Joel tilted your chin up to look at him, pulling his shirt down with his other hand.

“Just fell, darlin’. I’d do it all again to get to you.”

Heat spread across your face, tinting your cheeks. All the resentment you had for him fizzled away (but was it really resentment if you could forgive him with just one kiss? Or maybe that was just the power Joel had over you).

“Let me patch you up, cowboy,” you said as you stood up, grabbing your rifle and pulling him up with you. “Come on.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Leading him through the house by his hand, the silence settled nicely. Something unspoken lingered between you two, remnants of what happened still drifting. Ideas of what might happen were tempting.

You led him to the bathroom, instructing him to sit on the counter. You opened the cabinet and grabbed everything you’d need.

“It’s like every time we meet, you’re on the verge of death, Miller,” you said as you laid your supplies out.

He grunted. “Not on the verge of death right now, honey. Just a little banged up, is all.” You told him to take off his shirt. He did so without a word of protest. “I’m just lucky I’ve always got my favourite girl to patch me up.” His hands reached for you, wanting you to be close to him. He grabbed your hips and positioned you in front of him, between his legs. You didn’t look away from the cuts and bruises on his chest and stomach.

“Not always, apparently,” you muttered under your breath as you began to dab his chest with a damp rag, washing away the brutality of what he went through to get to you. His brows furrowed, his hand moving to your wrist.

“Don’t be like that, honey.”

“Fuck you,” you whispered, pulling your wrist from his grasp and going back to your task. You were both silent as you cleaned his chest, both avoiding eye contact.

You grabbed the dated peroxide. “Might hurt.”

He nodded in acknowledgement. He made no noise when you applied it to the areas of concern, but the cords in his neck tightened nonetheless.

“Sorry,” you whispered, the desire to sooth him and shut him up with your mouth still clawing at you. He grunts in acknowledgement. You continued to clean him up, till all his wounds were stitched and his skin was clean of blood.

“Done,” you finally spoke, throwing out the dirty rags and cleaning up. You went to move past him to get out of the bathroom, but he slid off the counter and blocked your exit. Your face was only a few inches from his chest. “Joel,” you warned, “let me out.”

“Not 'till you tell me why you’re so mad at me, darlin’,” he said, his voice gruff yet soft. His hands slid up and down your arms, which were on your hips.

You tried to push past him again, but he didn't budge.

You huffed, and his eyes softened, large hands moving to cup your face. “You don't know how much I missed you,” he said, brows furrowed.

You closed your eyes. “I do know.” You felt him press his forehead to yours, and you reciprocated, hands moving to hold his wrists. You didn't have the energy to be mad at him anymore. You just wanted him.

“Then let me show you,” he whispered, breath fanning over your lips, driving you wild. Everything about him was intoxicating.

His lips found yours again, still needy and fervent, but there was something more. Something hungry. Something growing, something left over.

He pushed you against the bathroom counter, hands moving across your body, touching you everywhere, anywhere he could. His hands ghosted over your breasts, across your thighs, rubbing your hips, caging you in. You whined, “Touch me.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere. I just need more,” you said, breathless.

At that, he placed you on top of the counter before he lifted your shirt from your body, “Nothin’ underneath? Knew I was comin’,” he said with a smirk. You were breathless as he kissed you again, sliding your pants off your body. He broke from your mouth to lay wet kisses on your neck and chest, biting and sucking his mark into your flesh.

You whimpered when he gently ran a finger over your clothed core, bucking into his hand, desperate for anything more. He groaned when he felt how wet you were, your slick already pooling in your panties. He didn't have it in him to tease you. Not today.

He slid your panties down your legs. You felt the heat of your core come in contact with the air, your slick beginning to drip down your thighs. He dropped to his knees, looking up at you with nothing but pure desire, want, need, and, dare you say, love?

He kisses the soft inside of both thighs, your hands tangling in his hair, before his face hovers over your soaked core. He pressed his head into the inside of your thigh, running a finger through your folds. You moaned at the seating contact, watching as he brought his finger to his lips and captured your slick on his tongue. He moaned, “Missed this pussy.”

He played with your clit experimentally, just to see how wet you could get without his saliva, before the tempting sight of your pussy collapsed him. He dove in like a man starved, licking and sucking, spreading your folds apart to get further inside. Your hands still fisted in his hair as you moaned. He draped one hand across your abdomen to keep you still, hips bucking up into his mouth.

His mouth was a magic ailment, drawing that familiar sensation from you in a matter of no time. The coil in your belly grew, hot and heavy, until his work on your cunt sent you over the edge, gripping his hair and moaning his name.

“That's it, pretty girl. Give it to me,” he said as he worked you through your high. When he noticed you squirming, whispering “s’too much”, he moved from your core and up to your mouth. Your hands spread across his chest, still bare, as you tasted yourself on his tongue. Your juices were smeared across his face, glistening in the hair there.

“Take me to bed, cowboy,” you said against his lips.

“Yes Ma’am,” he breathed. He picked you up, wrapping your legs around his body, and carried you to your bedroom. You pressed kisses across his neck and chest as he moved.

When he laid you down on the bed, he caged you underneath him. You reached to his belt, unbuckling it and throwing it to the side. He removed his pants, and you began palming him over his boxers. He was rock hard, eating you out almost getting him there in itself.

“Please,” you said, nearly inaudible. “Will you let me taste you?” You stroked his bulge.

“Fuck, honey. How could I say no to that?”

You rolled so you were on top of him, freeing his thick cock from its constraint. He sat up on the edge of the bed, you sinking between his legs.

You stroked his cock, smearing the precum around the tip. He was sensitive. You could tell he hadn't had anyone since you, and he definitely didn't have the time to take care of himself. He groaned as you began giving kitten licks to his tip, hand fisting in your locks, not guiding you, just needing a place to find solace.

“Gonna be the end of me,” he groaned when you put him fully in your mouth. He threw his head back, tears pricking your eyes when you tried to take him all. He was desperate for his release, but he was desperate to release inside of you even more.

“Baby, m’ not gonna last. Wanna finish inside of you,” he groaned. You lifted your head from his cock, wiping the saliva from the corners of your mouth, eyes wet.

“So pretty. C’mere,” he said, gesturing to his lap.

You climbed atop him. “Wanna ride you,” you said, sucking into his neck.

“Fuck, okay. Okay, you can ride me honey,” he said. You were absolutely ruining him.

You kissed him silly, straddling his lap. He was so enamoured with you, everything you did. The way you tasted, smelled, sounded. He was pussy drunk.

You parted from him to run his tip through your entrance, still soaked with your cum and his saliva, collecting your wetness. Lining him up with your entrance, you moaned into each other’s mouths when you sunk down onto him. Allowing yourself a moment to feel him sheathed fully inside you, stretching you out, filling you up, letting your body remember the way you blended together, you kissed him with a renewed passion, something you thought had died.

You held onto his shoulders as support, his large hands gripping your hips, gritting his teeth. When you lifted yourself off of him and back down, you set a desperate pace, grinding yourself down on his cock.

“Not gonna last long, pretty thing,” Joel groaned, eyes fixed on where you were connected. You were too set on your release to care, you just knew you wanted him inside you forever.

“Don’t care,” you gritted out, panting and out of breath. The noises filling the air were downright unholy, but neither of you had it in yourself to care. “Want you to fill me up.”

Joel growled, “Fuck, honey. Fill you up so good, you’ll be dripping out of me. That what you want?” He asked, landing a smack to your ass as you bounced on his cock. You moaned. Your release was right around the corner, your cunt clenching hard on his cock, thighs beginning to tremble. Joel moved a hand to circle your clit, hell-bent on getting you there. “So pretty,” Joel said, almost whimpering. “So good for me. Squeezin’ me so good.”

His words went straight to the fire growing in your core, your slick pooling at the base of his cock. Finally, the coil snapped, your orgasm dancing down your legs and up your body. Your thighs and frame trembled as you tried, you really tried, to keep bouncing on his cock, but your thighs were too weak at this point to keep going. Fixed on release, Joel flipped you so you were caged underneath him, barely missing a beat before spearing his cock into you. He swallowed your overstimulated whimpers.

“Gonna make a mess out of you. Fuck, almost there,” he groaned.

“Inside, inside, please,” you choked out, still delirious from your previous orgasm. However, you felt another one building inside of you, the friction of his body as it rubbed against yours added to your previous stimulation was enough to get you there again. You lazily toyed with your swollen clit, not having enough energy to focus, yet you knew it wouldn’t take much.

Joel barely noticed your state as his hips faltered in their pace, hitting that sweet spot so good. You had barely any control left over your body, but as he groaned and the muscles in his front tightened, the feeling of his hot seed filling you up was enough to send you into a frenzy. He groaned into your neck, your loud, wanton moans filling the air. As he filled you to the brim, you shook underneath him, your third orgasm overtaking you.

When he had recovered, Joel looked down to where you both met, taking note of the creamy ring formed around the base of his cock. He grinned, still breathless, as he gently unsheathed himself from your core, watching you squirm and wrinkle your nose at the overstimulation. He laid down next to you, and you naturally curled into him.

It was still morning, the rest of the day still ahead of you, but as Joel pulled the blanket over the two of you and watched your chest heave, he had the feeling that time didn’t matter anymore.

Your eyes fluttered open and met his. You noted how sore your body was, but the pull at your heart was no match. He had been watching you sleep, watching as you cuddled into his warmth and trusted him enough to hold you as you slept. The bright daylight filled the room, lighting up all his features, shining on the pretty grey in his hair and beard.

“How’d you sleep, honey?” he asked, his voice gravelly. You could feel his heart beating as you laid against his chest.

You hummed, “Better than I have in a long time.”

He smiled. There was a soft silence for a while as you just looked at each other, his hand stroking the skin of your face, kissing your cheeks and forehead, down the bridge of your nose, and ending at your lips. Finally, he said, “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

Your easy grin faltered for a moment. “It’s okay. I just…” you breathed in, “I thought you were dead.”

He pulled you into his chest. “I’m okay. ‘M right here, darlin’.”

You leaned into his touch, basking in the knowledge that you weren’t going to lose him again.

“Come back to Jackson with me.”

“Jackson? In Wyoming?”

He nodded.

“Joel, that’s far…”

“I’ve made the trip twice now.”

You were silent for a few moments, thinking. He spoke again. “I know this is your home, and it’s been your home for years. And I-”

“Joel,” you cut him off. “Anywhere you go is my home. I’ll come to Jackson with you.”

Joel Miller’s smile was something rarer than diamonds or gold, but it appeared on his face as real as ever.

Joel kissed you like the world had never ended, like you were his world. That’s because you were.

A week of bliss later, you had packed everything you’d possibly think you’d need on one horse and two backpacks. You’d set all your cattle free to roam and disarmed your alarm system. You had made Joel map out your route to Jackson, ever the planner, going through every minute detail. Nights were spent wrapped around each other, and mornings were spent wrapped around the blankets. You spoke of the life you would have together in Jackson, spoke about Ellie, spoke about everything.

Often, you’d look up at Joel and be met with a punch to the gut. The idea that the man you spent two years of your life praying for, standing right in front of you? It hit you out of nowhere sometimes. It was hard to be thankful in a world like this, in a world that did nothing but take and take and take from you. It was hard to believe that he was really here, that the world gave you something good for once. Sometimes, you’d have to touch him, really touch him, just to make sure he was really here. Just to make sure you hadn’t finally gone crazy and started to imagine him.

You began to fear that the world was going to whisk him away from you. Maybe a clicker would get him, or maybe a stalker. Maybe you’d react too slow, too quick, too late, too poorly, and he’d try to save you. Maybe he’d get another infection. God knows that man does not take care of himself.

These fears plagued your mind day and night, awake and asleep. They brushed your thoughts when he touched you, fingers working you into a puddle, you melting into him. These thoughts were unspoken, never would they be said aloud, or they just might seize you in your sleep and become real.

When you got to Jackson, the fear of losing him never ceased, but you did come to realize something.

You realized that what you were feeling, this utter, disgusting dread and fear of losing the one you love the most, was completely natural.

You loved Joel with all of yourself, and you knew that if anything happened to him, you’d lose all of yourself too.

After so long, your hearts were molded to one another, holding on for dear life. And you’d spend that life together. Truly and forever.

series taglist: @winters-fairy @charlyrmv @gvfslayallday @cloudroomblog @lol-im-done @freyafriggafrey @jasminedragoon @daddy-din @dealswiththedevilsblog @coolchick333 @rizzetteee @m3laniehearts @fuglyputa24 @daixylie @mi0o @kissykris @c0wb0ym3nace @snixx2088 @randomstory56 @mmeerraa @doublevirgogirl @daydreamerblues @onlyrealjoy @happinessinthebeing @leathargic @violenttsoho @gingerdarkroast @intoxicatedapple @callsign-athena @cherriebat @sofiparallel @textsfromeponinet

tlou taglist: @jordie-gvf @sunxflowerxx @themusingkitten @anxiety-made @mmerraa

permanent taglist: @winters-fairy @idkwhattonamethisblogs

#joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x reader fluff #joel miller x reader angst #the last of us #tlou #hbo's tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x reader smut

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ejswift · 5 months

Note

Can you do a fluff version of the Johanna mason x reader

note: yes i can indeed! enjoy!

JOHANNA MASON FLUFF ALPHABET

pairing: johanna mason x fem!reader

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, johanna being in loveee

masterlist

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

she adores your authenticity. she loves how you never let your personality change even through tough times or with other people. she needs something secure and familiar. you’re what she needs; a person to love who won’t change or go away.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

your thighs (mentioned in nsfw alphabet), and or your eyes. she loves when they crinkle at the edge when you smile. but she also loves how they glare at her when she’s done something wrong. she lovesss your eyes.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

i think she’s a bit hesitant when it comes to cuddling because she worries she’ll hurt you or cross a boundary she doesn’t know about. but once you assure her you just want her to cuddle you she does just that. she likes to spoon. it’s always alternating between you two of who’s little spoon. each day it switches.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

i feel like she’d just wanna do something chill. like eat dinner, drink a bit, watch a movie, and then fall asleep cuddling. that’s her ideal date.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

she’s not best with her emotions, as we all know. most times she snaps at you from her overfill of emotions. she immediately feels guilty but instead of apologizing she leaves the house or locks herself in the bedroom. after about two hours she’s calmed down and she’ll apologize and hug you, begging you not to leave her. you always reassure her that everyone handles emotions differently and you won’t leave her just because she’s having an overload.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

she doesn’t want a family. she just wants you and her. i think she’d be too scared to raise a child, afraid she’d either hurt it and or it would be killed off early in life due to the horrible conditions of the world.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

doesn’t get you gifts much, it’s not her love language. however if she’s feeling generous she’ll pick a flower from the ground and tuck it behind your ear. she thinks she shows you her love enough in different ways, and you’re fine with that.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

she’d hold your hand whenever. it’s just muscle memory at this point. walking down the street, cuddling, reading books together, while making love. all of it.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

she’d go fucking feral. like hijacked peeta feral. from having to experience the hunger games TWICE she gets ptsd and immediately jumps to the worst conclusion. she’s hyperventilating and panicking until you reassure her your fine. it could be something as small as a cut from chopping vegetables to scraping up your knee.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

she’ll joke around by slapping your butt at the most random times. placing cookies in the oven? slap. cleaning the windows? slap.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

she likes to start soft and slow then increase into a makeout sesh. afterwards she’ll get all flustered as if she didn’t initiate it.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

acts of service and quality time. she’ll help you with simple tasks like folding laundry, washing your hair in the shower, finding lost items. you could literally just be in the same room as her and she’ll be content and comfortable.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

getting to sleep together after the quarter quell and rebellion. after months of worry, chaos, and death you both laid in bed together for days, not leaving each others presence.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

losing you and being tortured by snow. there’s many nights she’ll wake up thrashing and screaming. when you wake up and comfort her she shakily tells you about how you either died, snow held you hostage, or snow held her hostage again.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

most stubborn person ever. she’ll refuse to admit she’s wrong at any point. even if she knows your right and she’s wrong.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

babe, your name, hot stuff, baby.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

she literally could just sit across the couch from you and be content. just you being around her is enough.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

every breath you take by the police. i’d like to think you’d have a record player from the market and had gotten a vinyl of the police. the song is lowkey creepy but she relates to it because she loves watching you.

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

it’d be hard for her to tell secrets at first cause she’d question the repercussions but when she knows she can trust you she’ll answer any questions you have about secrets.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

i think you two had known of each other’s existence before her first games because you two went to school together but you didn’t talk to her until after she came back from her games. you guys became friends not too long after and she immediately fell in love with you because you never gave up on her. you two danced around a confession for at least a year or two until one of you spit it out.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

she’s a little stunned and taken aback, feels sad but stays quiet. she tries her best to calm you down but if it becomes too much she’ll either storm out because she thinks she can’t help you or she’ll simply cry and hold you.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

she definitely likes to show off her axe skills. even though a part of it reminds her of the games she’s always down to show off how precise she can throw an axe.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

she would not want you to fight a day in your life, unless of course you had to do it to survive. she’d rather do the fighting for you because she doesn’t want to risk you getting hurt, even if it puts her in an unsafe position.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

i think when it comes to you and the people she’s close with she can easily read emotions. the only problem is her not being able to handle them as well as she’d like to.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

nothing too crazy because that just isn’t her jam. i think you two would be doing a loving domestic task together like washing dishes and she’d just turn to you and ask to marry you. you’d be a bit shocked but stutter out a “yes” anyway. she’d nod and remind herself to buy you a ring later.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

when you scratch her back lightly. she loves the feeling of your nails trailing up and down her back in a loving manner. it calms her down right away.

#johanna mason wlw #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason #johanna hunger games #johanna mason fluff #hunger games catching fire #wlw fanfic #wlw

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phoward89 · 11 days

Text

Series Masterlist

Chapter 5:

Coriolanus is at the PK Base in the communications center, sitting in one of the video phone booths. He's holding the receiver to his ear and watching the staticy small screen; waiting for Tigris to answer. He has so much to tell her. In fact, he's over the moon to tell her all about the love of his life: you. He's absolutely positive that she'll be happy for him.

When the static breaks and then clears slightly to show his cousin, he smiles like a madman. “Tigris, it's so good to see you!” Coriolanus exclaims, so much excitement in his baritone.

Tigris' gentle blue eyes widened slightly at her cousin's chipper demeanor. He was usually sullen during their sporatic calls. “Oh, Coryo, you look so much happier since the last time we talked. Did something happen?” The blonde girl asked, curious to know why her cousin was suddenly in a better mood.

“Yes.” Coryo nodded. Beaming, he blurted out, “I got a girl, Y/N, and she's just a perfect sweet darling.” His baby blues were sparkling with pride as he added in, “We’re serious, have our own place and when I pass the Elite Officer's Examine we’ll be able to leave 8.”

“Oh…” Tigris trailed off, her face full of shock. She wasn't expecting her cousin to be so serious with somebody so soon. Especially after he seemed so heartbroken about never being able to see Lucy Gray ever again.

Was Tigris wrong in her assumption that Coryo loved the songbird? If so, then she truly hopes that he's found love with you. But she also knows that her cousin has the genetics that can easily make him become like his father: General Crassus Snow.

Hearing him say that he's taking an Elite Officer's Exam makes her skin crawl. Tigris knows how cold the officers are in the various branches of Panem's military; she doesn't want her sweet cousin to be turned into a cold, heartless, hateful man to be used as a tool for the country.

A country that kills tweens and teens for entertainment disguised as punishment. Gosh, everything about Panem makes Tigris sick. And to think that her cousin, her sweet little Coryo who's a good person, could be used in a way to support the country's propaganda and skewed outlook bothers her. Makes her blood freeze up in her veins.

“Isn’t it great news, Tigris?” The platinum blonde peacekeeper asked, fishing for praises.

“Yes, yes it is, Coryo.” Tigris replied, her smile a bit too tight, too forced, and her voice a bit flat.

Coryo's face fell at his cousin's overly fake reply. “I thought you'd be happy for me Tigris.”

“I am happy for you, Coryo. I am.” Tigris weakly assured her cousin.

“I've found somebody that makes me happy, who needs me; makes me feel powerful, and I'm one step closer to getting us back home, to the Capitol. But, you don't sound as happy about it as you claim to be.”

“Coryo…” Tigris sighed, trying to find the right words to tell him about the hardships that have fallen upon their family within the last few weeks.

“Is Grandma’am around?” Asked the platinum peacekeeper. “I'm sure that she'd be happy to hear about my accomplishments.”

“Coryo, Grandma'am’s in hospice.” Tigris revealed, her tone sad as her face twitched with sorrow.

“Hospice! What do you mean she's in hospice? She was fine a month ago, what the hell did you do to her, Tigris?!”

“Me? Oh, Coriolanus, do you hear yourself right now?” The blonde aspiring fashionista snipped. Shaking her head, Tigris started to explain, “Grandma’am just shut down and started to wither away after we lost the penthouse-”

Coriolanus icy eyes popped out of his head. “Y-you lost the penthouse?! When were you going to tell me this, Tigris? Huh?”

“The back taxes were just too much to pay, so the penthouse was put on the market. But, Pluribus is letting me stay in the apartment above his club.”

“Okay, but what does any of this have to do with Grandma'am being admitted to hospice care?”

“Coryo, having to declare bankruptcy and sell the penthouse; letting all of the Capitol know that the Snow's are poor just broke her dear old heart.”

“She's dying from a broken heart? Really?” Coriolanus asked in disbelief.

“Yes.” Tigris nods. “The doctor said that Grandma’am lost the will to live; that it'll only be a short matter of time before she goes. And she's already in a catatonic state.”

“Are you still working for Fabricia Whatnot?” Coryo asked, his baritone colder than it had been mere minutes ago.

“Yes, I'm still working for her.” His cousin confirms with a nod.

“Good, because I won't be sending half of my pay to you anymore. The Grandma’am will be dead soon, due to her own pride and self induced delusions, and my money, honestly, is better suited taking care of my girl here in 8.” Coriolanus told Tigris in a chilly tone. One so chilly that it'd cause hell to freeze over.

“Coryo-” Tigris began, confusion all over her makeup slathered face, only to be cut off by Coriolanus’ icily steady voice saying, “I'm all my girl’s got, Tigris. I have to take care of her.” Looking at his cousin like he didn't even know her anymore, he remarked, “Unlike you, Y/N doesn't lie to me about how bad things are. At least she's honest, but you've had to have known for months about the past due back taxes on the penthouse and you never said a damn word to me about it.”

“Coryo…I didn't want you to worry about us. I was taking care of everything.”

“Time’s about up, Tigris.” The platinum peacekeeper announced, feeling betrayed and lied to by his cousin, who he viewed as more of a sister then a cousin.

“Coriolanus, you sound just like your father right now.” Tigris pointed out, her heart breaking at hearing the frostiness in his baritone and seeing cold deadness in his eyes.

“Well, I am his son. Perhaps I'll follow in his footsteps; rise to military greatness.” Private Snow told his cousin before saying a curt goodbye and hanging up on her.

It's getting close to the time that Coryo usually comes home from work and you're in the small kitchenette making dinner. It's nothing too fancy, just a simple stew. But your platinum peacekeeper never complained about what you made. He always ate his supper with a smile plastered on his face. In fact, he'd usually get seconds; pester you into eating another share too (he always said it was in order to build up your strength so you'll heal faster).

You're stirring the pot, making sure that nothing sticks to the bottom, whenever a faint knock appears at your door. You almost don't hear it over the sound of the radio, that's how light the knock is. Not wanting the stew you worked so hard on this afternoon to burn, you turn off the stove before going to answer the door.

“Ashlie, what're you doing here?” You asked your brother’s former girlfriend as she stood in front of you.

“Some of the girls at the factory are worried about you; I said I'd stop by and check up on you after my shift.” Ashlie answered as you heard the sound of Coryo's boots clambering up the building’s staircase.

Nodding, you simply said, “I'm fine.”

“Are you, Y/N?” Ashlie pressed.

Nice of her to worry about you now, but where was she before?

“There's been rumors that you've taken up with that blonde peacekeeper. That he's been living with you.” Ashlie all but hissed in a shameful tone.

“It's not a rumor.” You told her while noticing Coryo's tall denim clad frame appear at the top of the stairs, right down the hall.

“Look, Y/N, I'm sorry about not being around as often as I should, but if you need help gettin’ away from that peacekeeper I'm sure that Declan can help smuggle you out of the district.”

Smuggle you out where? You don't have any money and you're all alone. How are you going to survive hiding out in another district? Districts you're sure are just as bad if not worse than 8. The poor, lower end districts are all clumped together and, frankly, they seem to get worse and worse as you start going between them.

At least with Coryo your rent's paid, you've got enough food to eat, and you're not cold anymore. He’s decent company, when he's not in a condescending mood, and he seems to be devoted to you despite not knowing you that long. With Coryo you're comfortable for the first time in a long time. For once since moving to 8 you're not tempted to do a swan dive off the bridge into the toxic river surrounding the district.

You'll take your chances with your peacekeeper.

Shaking your head, as Coriolanus trudged down the hall, you told Ashlie, “I'm fine here with Coryo. He takes good care of me, so you don't need to worry.”

“And what happens when he gets bored of you; tosses you aside for another girl?” Ashlie asked as your boyfriend got closer. “Y/N, sweetheart, don't be a fool and trust him. He's a Peacekeeper for Christ’s sakes.” Berates your once sister. “One bred straight from the Capitol as I understand too.” The brunette spat out in disgust, right as your platinum peacekeeper appeared behind the girl that's slandering him.

“Darling, is this ratty whore bothering you?” Coryo coldly asked, his icy eyes narrowed at the girl blocking his way into the apartment, as he came to a stop right by the door.

His frosty timbre startles Ashlie; has her jumping out of her skin. Coryo's tone of voice doesn't bother you one bit. Why should it? His coldness isn't aimed at you.

“She was just leaving.” You assure your boyfriend, only to give Ashlie a look that reads ‘you need to go, now'.

“Well the girls at the factory are worried about you; hopefully you'll be able to return to work soon.” Ashlie remarked instead of leaving, like she should’ve done.

“She won't be returning to work at the factory.” Coryo bluntly announced, pushing himself by Ashlie and literally shoving you inside of the apartment. He blocked your view with his tall, sinewy frame while standing right in the doorway.

The platinum blonde's head lifted up in superiority. His glacier blue eyes bore into the former Seam girl with disdain as he explained, “As Y/N’s man, I take care of her and pride myself in treating her the way a proper Capitol born man treats his girl.” Gripping the door so hard that the wood began to splinter and crack, he barked out, “You're not needed around here. She's got me, so leave or else I'll bring you to base and turn you in as a rebel.”

Ashlie's Seam grey eyes widened in fear and horror at hearing Coriolanus’ words. With the rumors that she's heard about you being kept under lock and key by the platinum blonde peacekeeper, who by now everyone knew was sent from the Capitol; was a second generation military man, Ashlie was starting to worry about you. And when the girls that worked with you on the looms in the PK uniform factory’s weaving room started to express their worries to Ashlie, well she decided to pay you a visit.

Offer you some much needed support. A lifeline out of the predicament you're in.

But the brunette wasn't expecting you to turn down her help, to insist on staying with your oppressor. She also didn't think she'd be threatened by said oppressor, the pretty boy peacekeeper from hell itself. Ashlie feared for both her own safety and yours.

Maybe she should've came around more often, then maybe you wouldn't have become such easy prey for a peacekeeper with a cold hateful glint in his eyes.

“And the next time you show up to my house I'll have you hanged off the bridge’s trestle.” Coriolanus darkly promised, his face a mask showing no feelings, before slamming the door shut in Ashlie's face.

Coryo was quiet as he shed his coat, hanging it up on the hook near the door. “I made stew. I'll go dip it up.” You told him while he began to unlace his boots.

“It smells good, darling.” Coriolanus complimented, slipping out of his black boots, as you grabbed some bowls from the cabinet.

“You say that about everything I make.” You teased, portioning out the stew into a pair of bowls as Coryo pulled off his denim fatigue shirt.

Walking over to the table and laying his denim overshirt on the back of his chair, the platinum blonde simply said, “Because it's true.”

The atmosphere in the room wasn't heavy per say, but it wasn't light either. You felt like something happened today, something to put him in a sort of mood. And not a good one either. You really didn't want to stoke his mood into a roaring fire of unliveable sassy attitude, so you didn't say a teasing word back to him.

No, you just carried the bowls of stew over to the small table as Coryo took his seat at it. You couldn't help, but slip on a smile at the sight of your giant of a boyfriend dwarfing the sorry excuse for a kitchen table you had. Hell, the table looked more like a small school desk as he sat at it.

Silently, Coryo followed your every move with his icy eyes. He watched as you set the food on the table before fetching the bottle of milk from the fridge. Coryo knows how luxurious fresh milk is, so he's proud that he can buy it for you. He himself went without it for so many years in the Capitol.

The Snow family always seemed to go without; to struggle within the safe borders of the Capitol. Something that he was supposed to change. Coriolanus was supposed to dig his family out of poverty, but instead his family's been torn apart.

All because Tigris lied to him about how bad things really were.

Fuck!

He would've found a way to get her the money for the back taxes, to avoid a foreclosure on the Snow ancestral home, if she would've only told him that she couldn't pay.

How could Tigris, his own cousin, do that to Grandma’am; to him? And most of all to you.

You!

Who he promised to whisk away to the Capitol once he was able to. Now where are the both of you going to go when he gets clearance as an Elite Officer to return home: to the Capitol? He sure as hell can't bring you to the above club shoebox apartment Pluribus gave Tigris.

And to think that his Grandma’am's dying from a broken heart because her home was taken from her. Her beloved rooftop rose garden that was her joy is now withered if not destroyed by the highest bidder. To think that the old lady's in hospice, due to no will to live, all because Tigris couldn't be honest about the back taxes.

Damnit, fucking bitch should've worked a few corners to come up with the money. Anything to pay the past due taxes; keep the Snow family penthouse in the Snow family.

Where it belongs.

The sound of the milk glasses lightly clinking against the warped wooden table tore Coriolanus out of his thoughts. Watching you sit down next to him, he grabbed his spoon and told you, “Darling, let's promise not to lie to each other. Shall we?”

Oh boy, something definitely happened to him today. You didn't know what, but his remark about lying to each other tipped you off that he was lied to and he's upset about it.

Picking up your own spoon, you tell him, “I promise I won't lie to you, Coryo.”

“And I won't lie to you, Y/N. Which is why I have to tell you something very unsettling.”

Something very unsettling? What the hell did he do, shoot somebody during target practice? Murder somebody for a spot on the Elite Officer's Examine roster? Hell, the suspense is killing you.

Not literally, just figuratively.

“Today I talked to my cousin, Tigris, on the phone in the base’s communications center and I learned that things are worse than I thought they were back home: in the Capitol.” He revealed in between eating his stew.

Having a bad feeling, you asked, “What's wrong, Coryo?”

“The Snow penthouse has been seized and put into foreclosure for unpaid back taxes.” Coryo spat out, his eyes full of anger, as he held his spoon so hard that it was about to bend between his fingers.

His family home foreclosed due to back taxes. Oh boy… You weren't expecting to hear that. You can only imagine how high priced the taxes are in the Capitol considering how pricey things are in the districts. Capitol City, Panem is full of rich elites or wannabe rich elites, so…Yea…The price tag on things in the Gem of Panem, the Capitol, is surely higher than in the rest of the country.

“Tigris told me that everything was fine, but she lied.” Shaking his head, he tossed his spoon in his bowl, causing a loud clang to ring out. “I've been sending home money, assuming that Tigris was using it wisely, but now I don't even know what she did with it.” Reaching for his milk glass, he dryly added, “She didn't pay the taxes, that much I know.”

Reaching forward and placing your hand on top of his, you gave him an empathetic look. You felt for him, for his family. “Coryo, I'm sorry she lied; made you think everything’s ok when it isn't.”

Your boyfriend threads your fingers together, holding your hand, as he sips on his milk. He can't help, but feel lucky to have you. You're being so supportive and understanding about his family's fall from grace.

About him losing the Snow ancestral home. The home that he was supposed to take you to.

Placing his glass down after drinking from it, Coryo shook his head while gritting out, “And now Grandma’am's in hospice, dying of a broken heart, because she was forced out of her home.”

Poor Coryo…

To lose his home, his grandma, and to be lied to by his cousin.

“Seems like we've got more in common than what meets the eye.” You told him, letting him know that you sympathized with his situation.

“It seems we do, darling.” Coryo nodded. Picking his spoon up and scooping a portion of stew out of his bowl, he repeated, “It seems we do.”

You're washing the dishes whenever you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist. Coryo's right behind you, hanging on you, but you don't pay him any mind. You just keep on washing the bowl in your hand with the sponge- a sponge that has seen better days.

Your boyfriend nuzzles his nose into your temple, inhaling your scent. Kissing your cheek, he swears, “I promise, once I'm an officer and get into a wealthy position I'll buy back our home. We'll live in it once again.”

“Don't make promises that you can't keep, Coryo.” You advised him, rinsing out the bowl and setting it aside on the makeshift drying rack (which was a cookie cooling rack resting on a dishtowel).

“I intend to keep that promise, baby.” He told you in between peppering kisses up and down your neck.

“Coryo, stop that. I still have dishes to do.” You sighed, trying and failing to wiggle out of his hold while starting on the second dirty bowl.

“One day when I become President and make you my First Lady you won't ever have to lift a finger to wash a dish ever again.” Coryo smoothly murmured, kissing the sweet spot right below your ear.

“To make me your First Lady you'll have to marry me, Mister President.” You sarcastically pointed out, rinsing soap suds and bubbles out of the bowl.

You're placing the bowl onto the drying rack whenever Coryo spins you around. Tipping your chin up, making your eyes lock onto his baby blues, he seriously tells you, “Once I get my officer’s stripes I'm going to marry you.”

The weight of his words comes crashing down on your head like an anvil in an old cartoon. “You really want to marry me?” You asked, not quite believing the situation to be real.

You're just some district girl that he got into trouble and felt pity for. Yes, he takes care of you, but making you his wife's a whole other story. That's a lifetime commitment considering divorce was abolished in the early years of Panem's creation- which was after the end of both WW3 and the 2nd Civil War, which coincided.

“Yes, baby.” The platinum blonde nodded. A wide smile spread across his face as he cemented his fate with the words of, “I'm going to marry you and give you the life that we both deserve as Snows once I get my officer's commission.”

“You know, people in the districts have different ceremonies then Capitolites do for marriages.” You informed him; knowing that you're going down a path you can't turn off of as you do. “Couples in 12 do a toasting by breaking bread at the hearth over a fire they stoke.”

“Too bad we don't have a fireplace.” Coriolanus seriously pouted.

Oh wow, he's serious about this marriage thing. Lucky you.

“Yes, too bad.” You half heartedly agreed with him. Resting your hands on his chest, you decided to explain what you learned about weddings in District 8. “I've heard that here in 8 most weddings are typically held on Tuesdays and Thursdays in November and December.”

Your boyfriend’s brow rose with interest. “December you say?”

“Yes.” You confirm as he strokes your cheek with his thumb. “The bride sews her own dress, which is typically blue or purple, and makes a large amount of food for the guests who stay for dinner and then a late supper. While family and friends are gathered at the house, the couple’s joined hands are bound by a strip of cloth; then they recite words or poetry to complete the ritual.”

“And this ritual’s binding in the eyes of District 8?” Coriolanus asked, holding your gaze with his icy eyes. Eyes that were filled with both trepidation and hope.

“It's binding in all of the districts. I'm not sure about the Capitol tho.”

Bringing his forehead to rest against yours, he simply said, “Mary me on Thursday. I'll bring Sejanus home with me and we'll do the 8 ceremony.”

Believing it impossible to marry so soon, you react with, “But that's in 2 days, Coryo. I'll barely have enough time to make a dress. Plus I have to cook food.”

Bringing his other hand up to your face, so he was cradling it between his large calloused hands, the platinum blonde told you, “I'll bring home some material for your dress tomorrow and the only guest you need to cook for is Sejanus. You don't need to cook up our entire pantry.” His lips ghosted over yours. “Let me take care of you; marry me, baby.”

If you say yes to this sudden spur of the moment wedding you'll be giving up your freedom. In the districts’ eyes you'll become Mrs. Snow, wife of a Peacekeeper. One who's certain he'll become an Elite Officer. Is that what you want?

Hell…

You honestly don't even know what you want. But you do know that you refuse to go cold and hungry ever again because you're alone and can barely get by.

So, for survival purposes, you give Coryo a smile and tell him, “I’ll marry you.”

Without warning, Coryo kisses you. His lips hungrily pressed against yours, as if he was a man starved and his only fulfillment came from your mouth. You moved your lips against his, which only caused him to deepen the kiss by slipping his tongue into your mouth. Your fingers twisted and dug into his white T-shirt as your tongues intimately danced while your lips clashed, pushing and pulling for purchase.

You let out a little breathless sigh as Coryo broke the kiss, pulling back slightly so the two of you could catch your breath.

Coryo's icy blue eyes were nearly black with lust as he looked into the windows of your soul. His large hands still cup your face as he confessed, “I’d love nothing more than to bring you to our bed and fuck you right now, but since we're to be married in 2 days I'll wait til the wedding night.”

“Oh, so you're going to make an honest woman out of me first before you corrupt me?” You asked, your tone a bit light and teasing.

What difference was a couple of days? It wasn't like you're from a rich aristocratic family that needs to see the sheets in the morning for proof of innocence lost and consummation.of marriage. You're a district girl, nobody in the districts care about purity til marriage, etc.

Besides, even before you agreed to marry him you knew you'd be fucking Coriolanus. He's your boyfriend, it comes with the territory. The only question was when.

Now you have your answer: this Thursday night- your district style wedding night.

Leaning his forehead against yours, Coryo steadfastly declared, “You can't corrupt someone who's willing to drink from the silver cup, my darling.”

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short-honey-badger · 4 months

Text

Peppermint Tea 13

Another part so soon! I'm on a roll and already have start the next couple chapters! I hope you enjoy. This was was just kinda indulgent.

Warnings! SMUT! Mihawk knows what he is doing with his tongue. Fingerfucking. Kissing. Some dirty talk. Mihawk is a pervert.

Masterlist

It is 29 days later, you know, because that's how long ago you planted your strawberries, when you decide that you are tired of beating around the bush. Sure, the two of you kissed, and Dracule liked to touch you and explore you, but ever since that one delightful morning, the well-groomed man never went very far. He always pulled away at the last second when you were just on the verge of begging him for more. You were sick of waiting for Mihawk to make the first move, but you definitely weren't brave enough to make it yourself.

So that left you having a conversation with him. One that made you embarrassed just to think about. Dracule had phoned earlier that day, the snail phone was the best gift he'd ever given you, and let you know that he would be arriving soon, so you had at least two hours before he got here.

The bedroom was first on your list. It needed a good cleaning, and that would take the longest. Time was running out by the time you finished fluffing the quilts and pillows, and you dashed to the bathroom to wash and shave in the appropriate areas. You knew what you wanted and had to be prepared for it.

You are still wrapped up in a towel when you hear the front door open, and Hank gives a happy woof to the only man who can just waltz inside your home. You curse yourself for not remembering to grab any clothes and peek out the door of the bathroom. Just as you are trying to creep to the bedroom across the small hallway, a looming shadow blocks the light, and you are caught in a yellow-eyed gaze.

“Catch you at a bad time, Snow Angel?” Dracule teases with a mean twist of his lips. You blush and quickly retreat to the bedroom, but the warlord is right on your tail.

“I was trying to finish up before you got here,” you tell him as Mihawk follows you inside and shuts the door behind him. You round the bed, putting the queen-size between the two of you. “You are early.”

The warlord scoffs, “I am never late or early, Darling. I always arrive precisely when I mean to,” he eyes you from over the bed, and you gulp when you see his gaze darken a shade, “And what a treat it is to arrive home to see you in nothing but a towel.”

The word home catches in your brain, leaving you stalling a bit. He's said it once or twice before, and it always leaves you a mess. How can he call this place home so casually when Dracule himself has told you that the sea has been his home for most of his life? It left you reeling every time you realized how much you mean to him. How much he meant to you.

A warm hand landing on your arm knocks you from your thoughts, and you jerk your head up to see Dracule giving you a look of concern. You smile at him, feeling bold in his boat of playfulness.

“Maybe you should take it off?” You suggest and are treated with the rare sight of taking Mihawk by surprise. His eyes widen, and you watch in fascination as his golden eyes turn molten. A mean smirk curls his mouth at the side.

“Is that what you want? Do you want me to touch you, sweet thing? Do you want me to show you all the ways I could make you come?” Dracule snarls the filthy words, pushing himself closer to you at the end of every question. Mihawk expects you to back down at his aggression, at showing you how much he desires to have you, to taste you.

A whine leaves your throat, and your hands grasp the edges of the long coat that Dracule still wears. It isn’t often that your warlord stayed dressed in his rather flashy regalia, and it made you ache all the more for the pirate. You force your thoughts into order and lock eyes with his molten gaze. You need him to know that you are being truthful, “I have been wanting you to touch me for a long time, Mihawk. I just didn’t know how to ask.”

The warlord is quiet as he searches your eyes for any hint of uncertainty. When he finds none, Dracule takes a half step back, and his voice is rough when he speaks.

“Lay on the bed, on your back,” Mihawk orders and looks down at you under the wide brim of his hat. He looks dangerous like this, and you are reminded that Dracule is so much stronger than you are. He clicks his tongue when you take a beat too long, “Don’t keep me waiting, Angel.”

You turn to hop up on the bed, shimmying back so that your head lies against the pillows. A shiver wracks your body, and you swallow harshly when Dracule follows you up. He rests on his knees, and you can’t help how your devil fruit reacts when he reaches for the edges of your towel. It’s one thing for Mihawk to see your upper half, you liked when he laved your breasts with attention, but he has never seen you naked before.

“Relax, sweet thing,” Dracule rumbles above you and leans down so that he can kiss your brow, “I will stop when you ask me.”

“Okay,” you whisper and sigh heavily when you take a deep breath and relax into the bed. Dracule kisses your cheek, and then he pulls away to take hold of your towel, easing it away from where you have it tucked around you. A low, pleased sound escapes him when you are revealed to him.

“Beautiful, every inch of you,” Mihawk praises and then proceeds to pinch your left nipple. You hiss at the prick of pain, though a soft groan follows when he rubs your sensitive nub between his thumb and forefinger. His other hand follows the curve of your body down to your hip where he rubs gentle circles there, and you relax further into the bed, eyes fluttering closed as you give up control of the situation to Dracule.

Mihawk soaks in every reaction you have to his touch. He experiments, smoothing his hands up and down your body, seeing what you enjoy best. When you like it soft, and when you like when he gets a little rougher. He scoots down, ringed eyes raking down your body until he spies the apex of your legs and the neat thatch of hair that hides your most sensitive parts away.

The warlord grasps your legs and lifts them from the bed. He gently opens your legs, pushing them up so that your feet rest on the bed and your knees sway in the air. Mihawk kisses your knee, smoothing his calloused hands down your thighs, and curls one around the inside of your leg, keeping you spread for him.

Frost has begun to creep up your legs, and the cold of your devil fruit and the heat that Dracule puts off make every unexpected touch feel like a live wire against your skin. One hand moves to skate down your leg and dusts the frost away.

“I’ve got you, Darling,” Mihawk croons above you, and then his middle and ring fingers are sliding through the folds of your cunt. Your eyes fly open and you look up only to lock eyes with the entranced look that the warlord sports. He looks in a trance as he gently rubs his fingers back and forth, humming in content when slick gathers on them.

You watch, eyes tracking his hand, as Dracule brings those two fingers up to his mouth and wraps his lips around them. He cleans his fingers and gives you such a lewd grin afterward that you have to look away from him. Who knew that such a sophisticated man was such a pervert?

There isn’t much time to think about it, not when Mihawk slides those same fingers back through your folds, stroking you in a perfect rhythm that has you arching off the bed.

Dracule's other hand holds you down, making sure you stay still for this, and crooks his middle finger, slowing to a stop. He had made sure to get you significantly wet just for this, and he sighed in delight when he sank his digit inside of your throbbing hole. Your pussy sucks him down to the last knuckle, so wet from slick and his saliva that it is an easy stretch.

You suck in a sharp breath at the intrusion. It doesn’t hurt. You’ve touched yourself before, but having someone else do it is an entirely new feeling of bliss. You whine when Dracule begins a slow pace, and it isn’t long before he is pressing his ring finger in along with the other. Pleasure builds, and you lose yourself, hips rutting against his hand as heat coils tight in your stomach.

Mihawk’s thumb suddenly catches your clit and the sharp press against the over sensitive button has you hiss his name as you come, walls clenching around his fingers and you see spots with how hard you've clenched your eyes.

Dracule smirks, satisfaction curling hot in his chest. His cock aches in his pants, and he longs to shuck them off and slip inside your inviting warmth. But he holds himself back, instead gently pulling his fingers from your fluttering cunt and sticking them right back in his mouth to clean off.

“Is that all you want, Dear One?” Mihawk murmurs above you and dips to press his cheek to your own, lips ghosting over your ear as he speaks, “Or do you want more?”

While he waits, Mihawk presses chaste kisses and sucks gentle hickies along your skin, the hand on your hip rubs soothing circles there, occasionally dipping down to touch your swollen clit teasingly.

You roll your head, lips seeking his in a kiss that is more tongue and teeth than anything else. Dracule licks into your mouth, spit leaking down your chin as the messy kiss continues. You shift your hips, making his hand fall between your legs, and you break the kiss long enough to plead for more.

“Don't stop, Dracule, please.”

The warlord doesn't need to be told twice. He kisses you one last time before sliding down and taking a nipple between his teeth. His thumb finds your clit and presses harsh half circles into it, sending shocks through your body. Your hands find his hair, weaving through the dark locks and scraping your nails along his scalp. Mihawk growls low in his throat at the blunt pain, and bites your nipple in retaliation.

You yelp and send a glare down at him, but Dracule is already soothing the hurt with a sweet lap of his tongue that has you sighing. He moves to the other nipple, giving it the same attention as the first before he shuffles further, trailing a hot line of kisses down past your navel. You open your eyes, licking your lips when you realize how far he's moved down.

“What,” you swallow harshly, “What are you doing?”

The look you receive is one of pure want, his ringed eyes blazing as they lock with your own, “I want to taste you, sweet thing. I've not had my fill of you quite yet.”

The sound that leaves your throat is a mix of a squeak and a moan, and you drop your head back to the pillow, “O-okay,” you stutter out. You weren't about to argue with him.

Dracule smirks and presses a kiss right below your belly button, and then down he goes. He shoulders your thighs open, and then looks up to watch your expression when he lolls his tongue out and swipes the hot muscle along your puffy folds. He watches your mouth drop in a silent moan, hips stuttering in his hold as he does it again.

Mihawk swirls his tongue, saliva pooling in his mouth and dripping down to join the slick clinging to your pussy. It's lewd, and messy, and your cheeks are on fire as you listen to the wet sounds of Dracule eating you out.

You curse when his lips find your clit, nails digging into his scalp when Mihawk sucks on the nub, tongue lapping until you are jerking your hips and accidentally forcing his face in your cunt as you come. You hear him groan as you gush around his face, and you shake when you feel his tongue probe forward to lap at your hole, making sure not a drop of your essence was wasted.

You release his hair, and when Dracule rises, the warlord looks thoroughly debauched. Slick and spit are smeared along his face, and his usual perfect facial hair has been mused this way and that. Mihawk looks devine like this, and arousal is already stirring in your gut, just looking at him. He wipes his mouth and then shuffles up the bed to lay beside you.

Dracule pulls you into his arms, curling them around you and tugging until you lay splayed across him. He hums as your weight settles across him, hand sweeping into your hair to gently massage your scalp.

“Are you okay, dear one?” He asks quietly and peers down at you, yellow eyes seeming to glow in the low light of your bedroom.

You nod easily, “Better than okay, Dracule,” you assure him and place a loving kiss on his chest. The two of you still needed to have an actual talk about this, but that could wait. The two of you would have plenty of time later.

@writingmysanity @kenkenmaaa @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @djbumblebee @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar

#fanfic #one piece #reader insert #fluff #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x reader #opla mihawk #mihawk x you #opla mihawk x reader #mihawk x y/n #smut #fingerfucking.#peppermint tea #one piece live action

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