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teddiesworldd · 1 month

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after the world ends.

ghost finds you out in the woods during a zombie outbreak and falls in love with you. (2.6K words) read part 2 here!!!

a/n: this idea has been on my mind for a while and it was so sweet i just had to write it down and share it with you <3 also, if you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know!

pairing: simon ghost riley x female reader

tags/warnings: nsfw, mdni!!, apocalypse au, mentions of weapons, killing (zombies), survival situation, unprotected p in v sex, cute fluffy stuff in the middle of a zombie apocalypse because why not?!, soap makes an appearance

day 17 of the apocalypse, 3 weeks after the first outbreak.

you had lasted this long purely by camping out in the back of your car, driving somewhere more remote to avoid the infected and rationing whatever you'd managed to bring in from your kitchen at the beginning of it all. but as supplies got low and you were down to your last water bottle, you were forced to venture out into the nearby woodland, gathering whatever you could forage from the streams and bushes. you knew absolutely nothing about surviving out here. you couldn’t hunt and could barely light a fire. the first day of winter was in less than a month and you had no real shelter to keep you warm. you had no idea which berries were safe to eat or how to filter water. all you had was your kitchen silverware for protection and your best winter jacket for the weather.

you’d last about 2 weeks out here at best, and that’s without the fucking zombies.

you'd been walking for about an hour since leaving your car, and to be honest, you didn’t think you could find your way back now. everything looked the same. you had found only a pocketful of what you could only guess was edible, and a protein bar from the pocket of a dead guy’s jeans. every single noise scared the hell out of you. and the bite marks on his neck raised your adrenaline tenfold.

thud. thud. snap.

footsteps. sticks breaking underfoot.

“who’s there?” you called out. “i’m- i’m serious, come any closer and… and… i’ll kill you!”, shouting now, cold hand gripping your rusted kitchen knife tightly.

you saw a huge figure behind the trunk of a nearby tree, and he chuckled lowly at your brave attempt to scare him away. “you don’t scare me, sweetheart”, the voice said, deep and rough, walking out from behind the tree, “thought y'were a rabbit or something - cute lil' thing, rustling in those bushes. and if i was infected, you’d be dead by now, with a mouth on you like that.”

he was an absolute giant of a man, 6 and a half foot at least and built like a brick shithouse. he was in full military gear, skull mask over his face, armed with a rifle in hand and knives strapped to his chest and belt. he approached you slowly, palms facing you like he was trying not to spook a stray cat. part of you wondered if you were hallucinating - you'd not been sleeping well from the nightmares of the infected night after night.

“no use shouting, anyway - they’ll find you straight away making all that noise.” he continued, leaves crunching under his black boots, walking closer, “what’s a girl like you doing out 'ere, all alone?”

you were frozen in place, like a deer in headlights. he was already intimidating as fuck without the massive armoury hanging round his waist, but now he was so close you could feel his breath on your face. a thought crossed your mind that if he tried to kill you now, there would be absolutely nothing you could do to stop him. it made a shiver run down your back.

his gloved hand reached out to hold your chin. you looked up at him, eyes welling up from the pure fear that ran through you.

“lost?” he said quietly, tilting his head to get a proper look at you.

you nodded slowly.

“well, you won’t get far with that old thing, love” he smirked through the mask, eyeing the blade in your hand. “here, i’ll take you back to camp with me, make you a proper meal, yeah? when did you eat last?”

you engaged in some light small talk on the way, finding out he was called “ghost” and he used to serve in a special operations unit for a private military company. i guess it made sense that the best survivors would be the soldiers. you mentioned how you’d been living in your car for the past two weeks, which seemed to amuse him. he probably thought you were just some dumb girl who’d somehow managed to scrape through until now.

he wasn’t wrong, really.

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

his camp was much nicer than the back of your car.

it wasn't far from where he'd found you. they had lots of weapons and food and beds. and people. there must of been about 10 men in total. the infected weren’t really an issue with their impressive arsenal. there was a large fence surrounding the camp and the men took it in turns to kill anything that tried getting inside. it was pretty clear that ghost was closest to one of the other ex-military guys called "soap". they sat together when they ate and stayed up late at night talking together around the fire - matching dog tags glinting in the dim light. you often watched them through your tent door - enjoying their company but not wanting to interrupt their conversation. you listened as they talked deeply, recounting their time serving together, telling stories of bravery and bloodshed. it became your routine to fall asleep listening to them.

after about 3 or 4 weeks, following the first snowfall, you’d adjusted to life in the camp. soap had taught you a few things and often spent the mornings taking you hunting or showing you how to use the guns - a hand on your waist as he lined you up for the kill shot. he had a sweet nature and silly charm to him, telling you ridiculous jokes that only made you laugh because they were so stupid. you would never tell him that though - he thought you found him hilarious.

however, it was ghost you’d grown closest to, giving you anything and everything you needed. he was mysterious and that drew you to him. one time, he took you down to the river to wash the cookware and yourselves, and you'd caught a glimpse of him pulling off his clothes and mask, blonde hair and muscles seeing the light of day. you couldn't deny it - he was gorgeous.

he often checked on you in the evenings, making sure you’d settled in okay. he sat next to your bed, running a gloved hand over your hair, rubbing small circles into your scalp.

“you like the boys?” he’d ask, “they treating you okay?”

and you’d nod, just like you’d do every night.

“not scared, are you, doll?”

you shook your head.

“good. just making sure.”

and with that, he’d leave, heading to his own tent to rest, or out to guard the fence.

but one night, before he got up to get some sleep, you grabbed his hand. he looked back at you, dark eyes watching yours.

“stay?” you whispered.

and he did, without a word. stripping off his heavy gear and perching next to you in bed, rough camo trousers scratching against your bare shoulder.

and he stayed, just like you asked. watching over you like a dog and keeping you safe.

sometime in the night, you’d turned to face him where he sat, resting an arm over his thigh. but he didn’t push you off. he just let you rest - your warm breath causing a dampness throughout the tent.

it was only when the winter sunlight streamed through the tent that you realised he really did stay - all night. you opened your eyes to see he’d settled in next to you, his sleeping body alongside yours in the small camp bed, your arm still around him.

and when you tried to pull yourself away out of embarrassment, he pulled it back, keeping it over his chest.

“for warmth, yeah?” he said quietly, voice all deep and sleepy.

and how could you argue with that? these were trying times, after all.

after a moment's silence, he said “you’re a pretty thing, love. always thought so, even when i first met you and you were all scared and dirty.” he continued, heavy eyes looking down at your vulnerable form. “soap thinks so too, but you’re mine, yeah? i found you - you’re mine.”

there was something about the possessive glint in his eye that showed you he really meant it - his gaze trailing down from your face to your uncovered hips that had shuffled out the sheets in your sleep.

"cm'ere" he said, taking your arm in his grasp and pulling you towards him. "i mean it, love. do you wan' to be mine?" eyes watching your face to see how you'd react to his question. your faces were close now, closer than they'd ever been. he'd looked after you so nicely, giving you everything you needed, protecting you from harm all this time. you couldn't help but agree with him. how could anyone not fall for this attractive man who cared for you so much? and the feeling of his chest under your hand made you fall for him even harder.

"yeah," you whispered against his masked face "...yours."

your small hand reached up to reveal his lips under his mask. he pulled you in, kissing you softly. it was short but there was so much behind it. you could tell he wanted more but he was holding back. he didn't want to accidentally push you away by moving too fast. he pulled back to look at you, hands cupping your soft face, which was still clouded with sleep.

"you're so beautiful, you know that?" he spoke so softly now. it was like the walls he'd put up had fell instantly. he just wanted a moment to be yours. no one else's. not the camp's cook or the guard or the hunter. just yours and nothing else.

you pulled yourself back to his face, kissing him again but soon moving your lips down to kiss his chin, and then his neck. but you didn't get far before he stopped you.

"no, no, love. let me take care of you - you deserve it." he said, turning you around so you were on your back, head resting on your plush pillow as his touch relaxed you.

it was almost as if for just a moment, you weren't in the middle of a fucking nightmare. you were at home, in your own bed. maybe you'd met him at work or out on a date - anywhere that wasn't in a forest full of zombies. and he'd taken you out for dinner a few times and you'd decided he was sweet enough to be kissing down your body, rolling his tongue over your nipples.

but here you were, in a camp full of strangers, being transported by this man who you barely knew, covered only by the walls of a thin tent. but it just felt so right to let him take you like this. you trusted him with your life. and in return he worked your body like magic. his touch was so gentle - yet his skin was so rough compared to your own.

"you want me inside you, baby?" he spoke to you so softly, having kissed down to the top of your underwear now. his eyes watched you, waiting for your permission to carry on.

"please," you replied, "i want you."

that was all he needed to hear. he pulled off his shirt and your underwear, tossing them both to the side. he admired your body shamelessly, eyes tracing the outline of your waist and your body. you couldn't help but do the same, entranced by the way his muscles practically glowed in the light that came through the tent. he was built like a rugby player, pure muscle but with a good layer of fat on top to smooth everything out. you watched as he unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his cock.

he was huge. you knew he was a big guy but you weren't expecting it to apply to all of him. it was definitely bigger than anyone you'd ever been with. his tip was an angry shade of red from how hard he was, precum running down his shaft. noticing the expression on your face, he reassured you.

"don't worry, i'll be gentle with you."

he lined himself up with your entrance, your wetness being enough to allow himself to push slowly inside. it stretched you more than you ever had been, causing you to hiss as it dipped inside you. he bent forward down to kiss you sweetly, silencing your pained noises, shushing you each time his lips left yours. he continued to move in until he bottomed out inside of you.

"you okay?" he grunted, "tell me when to move, love."

you paused for a moment, adjusting to his size before nodding to let him know he could start moving.

he didn't fuck like you expected him to. you thought a guy like him would be railing you like an animal, but no. he made love to you, his slow but deep thrusts hitting all the perfect spots in your gummy walls. it was pure bliss, and he thought so too, struggling to keep back his grunts each time he thrust into you.

"fucckkkk baby," he'd say, dog tag hanging down as he fucked you, "your pussy is so tight, gripping me so good". he hooked your legs behind his back and moved his big hands onto your hips to hold you in place. " is it good for you too, doll? you look so pretty with that fucked-out look on your face." he went on, smirking at you like he was proud of his work.

you couldn't even form words, let alone piece together a decent response. he felt amazing, pulling all the way out so only his tip was inside of you and then pushing all the way back in again, until you were an absolute drooling mess, jaw slack and whining on his cock. and just when you thought it couldn't get any better, he moved his hand between your legs and rubbed lazy circles on your clit with his thumb. almost instantly your pussy started pulsing around him - with you blubbering out incoherent swears and moans - having sent you completely over the edge in a matter of minutes. he wasn't far away either - your clenching making his hips stutter back and forth as he helped you ride through your orgasm. you could of swore you were seeing stars by the time he pulled out of you and came over your stomach with a moan, pressing his forehead to yours.

it took you both a few minutes to come back down again, giggling and kissing his lips once more. your arms found their way around his neck, holding him close to you. you were both a panting mess, clothes discarded across the tent floor and the scent of sex heavy in the air.

"my girl- you're gorgeous," he managed to huff out, catching his breath. " 'm never getting over you."

when news broke that a zombie apocalypse was spreading, you had no idea it would lead to this hunk of a man in bed with you - spoiling you and loving you like this. you weren't complaining, though. not at all. at least something good came from it.

he cleaned you up so carefully, being sure not to press too hard on your sensitive body. and when he'd made sure you were okay, he brought you something to eat and led down with you, stroking up and down on your back, drawing shapes and letters on your skin. part of you couldn't believe this was the same guy who you watched shoot a zombie in the face through the fence the other day. his hands were so gentle, always cautious not to hurt you under his touch.

and as your eyes grew heavy again, revelling in his embrace, you heard him say something into your skin.

"simon," he said quietly, face buried in your neck. "my real name's simon."

˚✧. thank you for reading!

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˚✧. dividers by @ saradika-graphics and @ si-eunnis

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#simon ghost riley #ghost smut #cod mw2 #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #call of duty #cod modern warfare #task force 141 #ghost x reader #cod fanfic #call of duty smut #teddiesworldd

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satoruxx · 5 months

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SWEET SNACKS.

✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader | 2.3k words

✧ SUMMARY: tooth rotting fluff, meet cute, battles with inanimate objects, reader's got exams bc i have exams, satoru's whipped af (as usual), sorry i love writing him as a simp, reader is also whipped bc this is gojo satoru, bonding over snacks !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: if you saw me tryna post this yesterday no you didn’t. this was supposed to be a quick drabble oops. but it's finals week so i'm offering this piece of fluff to maintain sanity and gush over the meet cute i will never have. if y’all are also dealing with finals, i'm wishing you the best !!

satoru strolls down the bustling streets with a quiet hum, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets to keep them away from the bite of the cold breeze. his boots crunch against the thin layer of melting ice that has formed overnight, now warming under the cold afternoon sun that coyly hides behind gray clouds.

honestly, he wasn't the biggest fan of weather like this, and he wouldn't have stepped out on any other day. but one meeting with the higher ups had his mood souring, and shoko had suggested he take a walk, maybe grab something to eat.

he knew better than to argue with her, especially since she could somehow read him better than most people could—scary.

so here he was, trudging down the streets of tokyo with his hat pulled over his ears, cheeks pink from the frosty air as it dances across his skin. despite the weather, satoru thinks there's something oddly peaceful about the city, the quiet chatter and sounds of boots scuffing against pavement as he turns a corner to head to the nearby vending machines he's frequented so many times.

the peace is broken by an annoyed grunt, and satoru looks up.

"are you serious?" another irritated groan. "of all the days…"

he takes in the scene with interest.

even with all the anger that he's not quite understanding, he thinks you're so undeniably pretty—puffy jacket hugging your body and the warm scarf resting around your neck. your brows are furrowed, exasperation tugging your features into expressions that shouldn't look so endearing.

you groan again, slamming your curled fist against the glass of the vending machine—frustration ticks at your brow.

and why wouldn't it?

nothing was going your way today. it had already started off badly, the atmosphere filled with gloom that made it impossible to want to leave bed. but you had to force yourself to miserably extract your body from the warm cocoon of blankets and pillows that urged you back with a siren's call—a promise of comfort that looked all too enticing.

and then, when you finally did manage to drag yourself to the library to sit down and study, nothing was sticking. you read through paragraphs over and over until your head was spinning, dizzy with information that wouldn't absorb, and that fact is nothing if not disheartening. the impending quickness with which your final exams were approaching made you feel even sicker, so you decided to take a twenty minute break to grab a drink from the nearby vending machines.

but of course, even that couldn't just work out.

satoru watches you stand in front of the machine with a glare, before you're shoving your weight against it, huffing as it remains in place and hoping that at least one of your efforts will prove to be fruitful. he's talking before he can help himself.

"hey, you need some help?"

you turn to face the owner of the voice, finding cerulean eyes behind black shades that so directly contrast the white of his snowy hair. he's tall—abnormally so as he peers down at you with curiosity and a bit of mirth.

you think you've never seen a man so handsome in your life.

then you remember he's asked you a question, and you attempt to swallow down the unnecessary nerves that have taken root in the pit of your stomach. "oh, my uh…my drink got stuck," you reply somewhat lamely, cheeks heating up under his gaze as you think about how utterly ridiculous you must've looked to passersby.

satoru's eyes travel from your face to the machine, noticing the way your drink of choice is stuck in a frozen free fall against the glass and the rack. he sighs in exasperation. "tried hitting it?" he asks, walking closer to stand next to you and take a closer look, even though he knows the answer already.

you're not sure what it is, but this man exudes a certain energy—confidence that leaks through his very skin. it makes you feel like you have no right to be standing this close to him, but all he does is smile at you patiently, waiting for an answer.

so you nod, brows ticking again as the dull throbbing in your fist reminds you of how you had lost the battle with the greedy machine. "yeah, i've been hitting it for the last ten minutes. didn't budge," you sigh, checking your phone to see that there are only a little over five minutes remaining for your quick break. "what a waste of time and money."

satoru watches you shrug helplessly, smiling up at him. "oh well—"

he takes two long strides until he stands right in front of the machine, grips the edges, and shakes it hard.

satoru can feel you gape at him, at the unfiltered display of strength, and the unbothered expression on his face that tells you it didn't faze him. you hadn't been able to move the machine even an inch.

his powerful movements earn you a tell tale thunk, and your heart leaps in excitement as he bends down to push his hand through the slot and pull out your drink. he returns to his full height, an easy smile on his face as he turns around and hands it to you.

"thank you." your voice comes out breathless, a weird kind of excitement thrumming through your veins because it feels like you aren't supposed to know this man.

satoru's smile stretches further when your fingers graze his, taking the drink and popping it open eagerly. he watches you take a sip, oddly pleased with himself at the sheer joy on your face. he doesn't quite understand why this drink looks like it's made your day, but he doesn't ask because you look so sweet drinking it.

"how did you do that anyway?" you ask after you drink a little, curiosity so obvious in your tone. "i tried so hard to move it and it didn't budge at all."

satoru smothers a smile, fighting back the urge to say something stupid. instead he grins, cheeks warming a little under your eager stare. "guess i'm just strong."

you make a face, raising a brow with a playfully disbelieving expression as you cross your arms—to which satoru just laughs. "what's your name?" he asks.

you purse your lips, hiding a smile as you tuck your nose behind your scarf. you give him your name, almost shyly, and satoru tests it on his tongue. he decides he likes the flow, cocking his head as he replies with his own.

"satoru."

for once, the pressure of his last name doesn't permeate the air, and he's all too grateful for it. he turns around to approach the machine again, and he can feel your somewhat confused gaze on his back.

you watch as he stands there for a good minute, his back to you as he ponders the choices in the vending machine like they'll lead to life or death. then he shoves in a bill and clicks a few buttons, and within a couple of seconds, you hear the thud of two things falling.

he remains facing away from you for a few more seconds and then turns around, and you see that he's bought a chocolate bar and the same drink that you have in your hands. you raise a brow.

"well you did almost just lose your life trying to fight a vending machine for it," he says, shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly. "figured it'd be good to try."

you sputter over your words, embarrassment crawling up your neck, but satoru laughs good-naturedly. his eyes shine with mirth as his shoulders relax. "i'm kidding." he stresses, smiling into the collar of his jacket. "but it does look good so…"

he opens the drink and takes a sip, eyes squeezing shut dramatically as he hums at the sweet flavors washing over his tongue. you suddenly feel like getting revenge for his unfiltered teasing.

"well?" you hum cheekily, taking a sip of your own and raising a playful brow. "taste good?"

satoru laughs—a full, pristine sound that makes him throw his head back. "yeah," he agrees easily, feeling oddly fond of the way your voice curls around your words. "it's sweet, i like it. you've got great taste."

somehow the words of this man you've met not five minutes ago cause the muscles of your heart to trip over themselves. you watch him peel open the candy bar, a brand that's unfamiliar to you.

"what'd you get?" you ask, unsure of where the confidence to speak up is coming from. a man like satoru—so unflinchingly ethereal—would normally have your lips zipping and throat muted.

he holds up the bar with a grin. "my favorite."

there's a pause, followed by your sheepish smile, and satoru gapes at you, cerulean widening so clearly behind a backdrop of white. he takes in your innocently confused expression and his ribcage shakes with thuds. "what, you've never tried it?!"

before you can even shake your head no, he's breaking off a piece and handing it to you.

"no, oh my goodness, it's yours—"

"take it." he pushes his hand closer to you, eyes staring imploringly, and you sigh, reaching up to take the piece from between his fingers. a graze of skin—he's warm.

"thank you." you slip the piece past your lips, not at all surprised by its sweetness and yet a little taken aback by its underlying comfort—a rush of warmth.

"good." you're nodding, smiling between chews as satoru's stomach flips. "really good."

he chuckles, all too triumphant for something so menial. "told ya."

you laugh, a quiet subdued sound that satoru wishes he could hear more of. "thanks for getting my drink out," you say. "i really needed it today."

"oh yeah?" he finds himself asking. "how come?"

you sigh, smile dropping as a bit of fatigue makes itself comfortable on your face. "ah well, i've got final exams this week. i've been studying like crazy. nothing's really sticking, and the closer i get to the exams, the more annoyed and stressed i get."

satoru hums, not envying you for a minute.

"so it kinda felt like a kick in the butt from the universe when the drink decided to not just…"

he laughs again, taking another piece of chocolate and chewing on it soundlessly. "i gotcha."

you grin, curling your fingers around each other to diffuse some warmth back into them. "yeah."

there's a silence that follows—not uncomfortable, not unwelcome. you take quiet sips of your drink, and satoru breaks off little pieces of the chocolate bar to chew on. his eyes linger on you, watching the way your lips curl around the bottle, the way your fingers rub against each other, the way the cold has settled into your nose and cheeks and made a home amongst your skin.

when you look up at him, he looks away, throat oddly parched. his fingers flex.

"here, the rest is for you," he says, pushing the half finished candy bar into your hands.

you shake your head immediately. "no way! you paid for it! besides isn't this your favorite snack?"

satoru shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets with a grin that looks too happy. "you liked it, didn't you?"

you nod, slowly, like you're confused at what he's getting at. "well then, enjoy the rest of it. i buy them all the time—i don't mind sharing this one."

you can't help the soft smile that graces your lips, looking up at him with an odd sense of gratitude and surprise—touched that someone could be so casually kind.

"then thank you," you laugh quietly, eyes fluttering against the gust of cool wind that tickles your skin. "i'll enjoy it."

satoru grins, uncharacteristically pleased—he won't ever admit it, but he's glad shoko told him to take a walk. he'll have to thank her when he gets back.

he clears his throat, offering you a small wave as he turns on his heel to head back to the school. "well then, see you around. good luck with your studies, yeah?"

you smile with a gentle nod, oddly rejuvenated after seeing bright blue eyes and snowy hair. "thank you."

and then he's disappeared into the crowds. you laugh to yourself quietly, looking down at your drink and the half-eaten candy bar nestled between your fingers. a part of you feels strangely forlorn, wishing that you had the guts or confidence to talk to him a little longer—ask a little more.

but you've never been good at that, so even just this small happiness you'll take in stride. you grin to yourself, shoving the drink into your bag and slinging it over your shoulders.

you begin walking back to the library, fingers breaking off pieces of the chocolate and savoring the sweetness on your tongue. somehow you didn't expect a man with such an imposing presence to enjoy simple sweet things like this, but that just makes you all the more fond of him.

by the time you've reached the entrance of the library, you're shoving the last piece of chocolate into your mouth, sighing as the doors of reality swing open once more. the meager slice of giddiness that enveloped your very being dissolves, and all the reminders of what's left to do come back to suffocate you.

you bite back a groan, about to throw the empty wrapper in the trash when something catches your eye. you double-take, peering down at it with wide eyes and rapidly heating skin. there are a set of numbers scrawled there, along with a haphazardly written message:

in case you need someone to fight another vending machine for you -satoru <3

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jjk drabbles #gojo satoru headcanons #gojou satoru x reader #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x you

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

thank u for feeding my joel brainrot

may i request something a bit angsty where reader gets injured but still lives through it although seeing reader injured and joel having to carry her brought him flashbacks to sarah

AN | Pain! We have some pain - but also a whole lot of fluff! Enjoy ❤️

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.7k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“We need to get back,” his gruff voice cut through the fleeting moment of happiness. You knew he was right, and he knew that you knew he was right. You bent down and plucked one of the few blooms that had actually managed to blossom in the barren field. It was a pretty, small thing, purplish blue with soft petals.

You turned around to face Joel again and held the flower out to him, a gentle expression on your face compared to the hard look on his face. After a few beats of silence passed before he took it from your hands, twirling it between his fingers, “Joel-”

“It’s going to be dark soon,” he cut you off, bringing a pout to your face but you nodded in understanding. He studied the expression on your face before sighing heavily, his shoulders sagging with what felt like the weight of the world, “it’s not safe out here. I’d let you stay out here as long as you wanted if -”

“Things were different,” you finished for him and he caught your eye before offering a curt nod. It was a risk being out of the Quarantine Zone in general, and you weren’t lost on the fact that Joel put a lot on the line in order to get out, even if it was just for a few hours. Before you could say anything else, he tenderly tucked the flower behind your ear, his hand going to your jaw as he studied you. Wordlessly he leaned in and pressed his lips to your cheek, a mere ghost of a kiss.

“Come on,” it took a moment to shake off the stupor his sweet gesture had thrown you in. It wasn’t that Joel wasn’t kind or loving, he was just…rough around the edges. You couldn’t blame him; you couldn’t blame anyone these days. He’d lost so much more than you had, and had experienced a full life before the outbreak. You were a fair bit younger, hadn’t had the full chance at life yet, and it had been easier for you to adapt. Which felt weird at best to say. He showed his affections differently, but you welcomed them how they came.

He turned around and set off back towards the QZ, leaving behind only the crunching of gravel under his boot. You made quick work of grabbing a few more flowers and gently stuffing them into your backpack before turning to follow him, “Joel?”

He made a sound of acknowledgment but didn’t turn around, expecting you to catch up with him. When he noticed that you weren’t right there, he turned around, hands on his hips accompanied by a heavy sigh, “you better hurry up or I’ll leave you here on your own!”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you flung the backpack over your shoulder before running to catch up to him. You were laughing now and you could see the tiniest of smiles on his face. It was a rare occurrence and you tried to make it come out as possible; he had the loveliest smile, even if he didn’t agree. When you finally caught up to him, you stopped and almost skidded onto the ground, breathless but happy, “you love me too much for that.”

“Whatever you say kid,” you knew him well enough by now to know that tender affection laced his words, “c’mon. It’s probably going to rain on top of it.”

“I like the rain,” you mused as you fell into step with him. He didn’t say anything, but you knew that he was listening intently, “when I was a kid…we had this huge pond right near our house. Whenever it rained all the frogs would come out, and they’d be so loud, especially the bullfrogs. It was like they were singing, in their own froggy way. I used to go out there and sit and listen to them. My mom would always have to drag me inside and insisted I would get a cold from being out in the rain, even though she knew that wasn’t how it worked. I miss that…I miss being able to just do things and not have to worry about anything.”

Joel was silent, but you knew he’d listened to every word you said. Sometimes he wasn’t a man of many words. But you felt him reach for your hand, taking it in his and threading your fingers together. He let out a world-weary, tired sigh, “me too.”

It was silent for a lot of the walk back, but it was a comfortable silence, a lot of understanding flowing between the two of you. It wasn’t until you reached the hill you’d have to climb down to get back that you worried about anything. Climbing up had been one thing, easy, even if it left you breathless. Getting back down seemed like an entirely different challenge.

“You alright?” he noticed your hesitation as you swallowed thickly, but only nodded, “follow after me.”

You watched as Joel tossed his backpack down, before slowly traversing through the uneven ground to get back down. In reality, it wasn’t that huge of a drop, but it still made you nervous. Once he was safely back on the level ground, he waved for you to go. You tossed the backpack down, letting it land next to him. You grabbed onto a thin tree trunk, trying to stabilize your footing before going down.

But fate seemed to have another plan. A very painful plan. As soon as you’d let go of the tree, you went to shuffle down but the uneven soil caused you to slip and start to tumble. It all happened so fast, that it seemed to be over before you knew it and you were on the ground, the air almost knocked from your lungs as you landed on your side.

You knew something was wrong almost immediately as you felt pain shooting up your leg and saw the odd angle it was bent at. A shaky breath escaped your lips, tears already welling up, an involuntary reaction to the pain your body was experiencing.

You whimpered as you tried to move your leg, but Joel was already at your side, hands on your biceps as he helped you to sit up. A look of sheer panic was written all over his face, “oh baby. What happened? What…fuck. Fuck.”

“It hurts,” you cried trying to move so you could inspect the damage. There was a nasty, gnarly looking gash running down your left leg from knee to ankle. Your ankle was already swelling and bruising, and you knew that something was wrong. Your breathing was ragged and you knew that all you needed to do was calm down and everything would be alright, “‘m scared.”

“I know, baby. But it’s okay. I’ve got you, okay? Don’t look at your leg,” he cradled your face in his hands as he turned your face up to his, “just look at me. Look at me, okay?”

“Okay,” big, fat crocodile tears ran down your cheeks and you saw him close his eyes for a moment, trying to collect himself. You could tell he was nervous, and trying to keep it together; one of you had to be calm and strong right and it had to be him. He brushed your tears away before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Joel…”

“Eyes on me,” he repeated as you only managed to nod. He reached into his backpack and grabbed out some of the first aid supplies, which he thankfully always brought, before getting out some antiseptic liquid, clean gauze, and some bandages, “this is going to hurt a little bit, okay? Just hold onto my arm, squeeze as tight as you need to.”

Despite his warning, you were not prepared for the pain that the liquid was going to bring out. It was a deep cut, you could tell from the blood and agony, but fuck. It was extremely painful and you gasped wildly as you clutched onto his upper arm tightly, “it hurts. It hurts, Joel. Please.”

“I know,” he whispered softly, his own voice thick with tears. This was one of his worst nightmares - that something would happen to you, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. He’d been through this same situation before and his heart couldn’t handle having to go through it again, especially if something were to happen to you. He quickly wiped away the tears that blurred his vision with the back of his hand. He knew that he’d be all bruised up from where you were holding him, but he didn’t care, “almost done. You’re okay, baby.”

You weren’t able to form any coherent words, only making small sounds of pain as he worked to clean the wound, slapping on some antibiotic spray, and wrapping it up as tightly and securely as possible. The sting and pain slowly started to subside and your breathing slowly started to even out and the next time you looked down, all you could see was white bandaging. You loosened your grip on his arm, still shaky and worried, “i-is it going to be okay?”

“It’ll be okay for now,” he promised, tenderly brushing your rogue locks of hair out of your face, “and it will be okay. I think you’re going to need stitches, but that can be easily done when we get back.”

“Thank you,” before you could think about it, you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, trembling in his grasp. He held onto you just as tightly, closing his eyes and trying to focus on his breathing, “thank you.”

He held you for a few minutes longer before reluctantly pulling back and standing up. Joel held out his hands towards you, and slowly helped you to your feet - foot - catching you as you stumbled slightly. His frown deepened when he saw you struggling to put any weight on it, “can you walk?”

“No,” you sniffled and the memory of his daughter in the same situation flashed in his mind. This time though, he swore it to himself and to the universe, there would be a different outcome, “‘s bad. It hurts. You have to leave me. Go back and I-I can wait a bit until it gets better.”

“No,” he insisted firmly, leaving absolutely no room for discussion, “I am not leaving you out here on your own. Are you crazy?”

“Joel, I can’t walk!” you tried to keep yourself from panicking, trying not to imagine every horrible thing that could happen, “you have to leave me.”

“I am not leaving you, and that’s final,” he grabbed both of your backpacks and threw them on. He turned to you with a hard look on your face and you knew in that moment that it wasn’t anger or annoyance - it was fear. He was scared, “I’m going to carry you.”

“I-”

“It is not up for discussion,” there was no amusement anywhere on his face as he gently scooped you into his arms, cradling you tightly to his chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, closing your eyes as you listened to his breathing, the sound of his heart as he started to head back. After a while of silence, both of you on edge for different reasons, he whispered to you, “I’m going to keep you safe. I won’t ever let anything happen to you.”

You weren’t sure if he expected a response or even wanted one, but you couldn’t let his words die in silence, “I love you, too.”

He didn’t need to say the words in order for you to know exactly what he meant. You already knew; everything he’d ever done or said told you so.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d fallen asleep at some point, whether from sheer exhaustion or the overwhelming, or a combination of the two, you didn’t know. The last thing you really remembered was coming Joel sneaking back in, extremely careful since he was carrying you. As soon as you’d gotten back to his place, you passed out. But you were home and safe - just like he’d promised.

Your eyes were dry and heavy by the time you opened them up, slowly sitting up as you looked around. It was light outside, but rain was slowly falling outside, gently tapping against the window. You made a small sound as you rubbed at your bleary eyes. You could smell fresh coffee and you knew that Joel was there.

Before you could even call for him, you felt the bed dip at your side. You smiled softly when you found Joel on his knees at your side, eyes nervous and expectant. You laid back down, burrowing into his pillow and inhaling his familiar scent that clung onto the fabric. You reached over and put your hand on his face, stroking your thumb over his cheek, “my hero.”

He scoffed at that but you grabbed his chin and forced him to look back at you, to look into your eyes. He wrapped his fingers around your wrist before, squeezing delicately, “baby.”

“I mean it Joel,” this time you made sure he knew that you were leaving no room for discussion. He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes before you could feel him nod lightly into your touch, “thank you for saving me.”

“As if that was ever a question,” he pulled your hand away, holding it in his before squeezing gently and pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “you had me scared, kid.”

“I had me scared,” you laughed softly, the sound causing his heart to melt slightly, “I’m sorry, Joel.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he insisted, wishing he could find all the words to properly convey how he was feeling. It was so many things all at once, and almost overwhelmed him, “your leg is stitched up but the ankle...it’s not broken, but it's a bad sprain. You’re going to have to take it easy for a while.”

“Ugh. That’s not-”

“For me?” he pulled out the one thing he knew you wouldn’t say no to, “please? Baby.”

“Fine,” you sighed dramatically, causing the smallest of smiles to tug up the corner of his mouth, “will you get me my backpack, please?”

“I don’t think you-”

“Joel,” you pulled out your best puppy dog eyes, the very ones you knew he couldn’t say no to. He grumbled under his breath, the sound laced with affection as he went over to the door to fetch your pack. He set it next to you on the bed before nudging you over so he could sit at your side.”

You unzipped it and quickly reached inside for the flowers you’d collected. Luckily, for some reason, they weren’t terribly squished and you were able to pull them out intact. You bundled them together in your hand before holding them out to Joel.

“What are you doing, huh?”

“They’re for you,” you smiled sweetly, “I picked them for you. Flowers always brighten my day and so do you. Who better to give them to?”

He immediately felt choked up at your kind gesture, slowly taking them from your hand, his fingers brushing over yours. He looked at them before looking back at your eager eyes, a smile, big and genuine, crossing his features. You would do anything to keep that smile on his face. He exhaled softly, taking one of your hands in his and meeting your eyes, “I love you.”

All you could do was match his smile as you tugged on his hand so he would join you on the bed. He gently set the flowers onto the nightstand and climbed in next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulled you into him, your back against his chest. You closed your eyes as you snuggled against him, putting a hand over his. In that moment, there was nowhere else you’d rather have been.

“I love you too, Joel.”

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #tlou #tlou hbo

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bucky-barnes-diaries · 5 months

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Day 1 — First Snow

Pairing || TFATWS!Bucky x Female!Reader

Word Count || Around 900

Contents & Warnings || Fluff, Mild Smut — mild explicit language, mention of sex.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Advent Calendar Masterlist

You wake up in Bucky’s embrace, feeling warm and content, snuggling further into his comforting heat and skin. Your eyes flutter open and lock onto his peaceful sleeping form, his calming features illuminated by the soft morning light. His gentle snores provide a soothing soundtrack to your serene moment. You can’t help but admire the beauty of his peaceful slumber, your finger tracing mindless patterns on his bare chest, memorizing and cherishing every imperfection that makes him unique.

Your moment of peace is abruptly interrupted as you catch sight of white flakes cascading outside the window.

You gasp and startle awake, causing Bucky to jolt into alertness, ready to defend you against a potential intruder. His hand reaches for the bedside drawer, retrieving his knife, but you roll over him, knocking the wind out of him.

“Bucky! Bucky, look!” You exclaim with childlike enthusiasm as you hop out of bed and rush to the window. Pressing your hands against the glass, you watch the fluffy snowflakes transform the world into a magical winter wonderland. “It’s snowing! It’s so beautiful! We have to go outside and explore!”

Your excitement halts when a pair of solid arms envelop you and gently pulls you back to the warmth of the bed, softly tossing you down on the covers. Bucky wraps all his limbs around your body, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Bucky, come on,” you giggle, wiggling in his embrace. “It’s snowing, and I want to go outside and explore with you.”

“But I want to cuddle,” he playfully whines. “You’re so warm and soft, doll, and it’s cold outside. Let’s snuggle in bed all day and kiss and fuck,” he adds with a soft groan, peppering your skin with light kisses.

You manage to turn in his tight embrace, coming face to face with him. “Hmm, I want that too,” you purr, nuzzling his nose and giving him a sweet kiss. “But I also want to enjoy the snow. Please,” you pout, giving him your best puppy eyes, which makes him shake his head and smile in surrender. “I can’t resist when you’re being so cute, and the snow does sound like fun.”

“And I promise we can cuddle, kiss and fuck all night long in front of the fireplace.”

“Deal,” he mutters, attacking your face with warm kisses.

After a few more minutes of cuddling and sharing sweet kisses, you and Bucky get out of bed, ready to embrace the magical winter wonderland. Dressed in cozy winter attire, complete with coats, boots, scarves, hats, and mittens, you and Bucky prepare to face the cold climate.

Bucky takes special care to ensure your hat and scarf are snugly in place, protecting you from negative temperatures. “We don’t want you getting sick, doll. Even though I love caring for you, I know how much you hate being sick.”

Standing on your tiptoes, you cup Bucky’s face with your fluffy mittens and give him a sweet kiss. “Thank you for always looking out for me.”

“Always. Now, let’s go out and enjoy ourselves.”

Hand in hand, you ventured into the streets, relishing the sight of fresh snow covering the world like a soft white blanket. The sound of snow crunching underneath your boots is a satisfying soundtrack, and the bustling crowds of people are a pleasant sight. Some were in a rush, trying to get from A to B as quickly as possible, their annoyance about the snow and cold evident on their faces.

Couples, like you two, were out enjoying the winter wonderland, hand in hand, radiating love and contentment, unbothered by the snow and cold, but instead embracing it.

Children seem to have the most fun, playing in the snow, building snowmen, making snow angels, and engaging in epic snowball battles.

With a content sigh, you leaned your head against Bucky’s shoulder, wrapping your other hand around his bicep as you walked. “I love this, Bucky. Winter and snow. I know most people dislike it, but for me, it truly is the most wonderful time of the year.”

He smiles against your knitted hat before lingering a warm kiss on your icy cheek. “Me too, doll,” he murmurs against your skin, stopping you both in your tracks. He pulls you flush against his body, his gloved hands framing your face, providing warmth against the cold. His blue eyes gaze deeply into yours, warming you from the inside, his words making your heart race. “But for me, you are the one who makes it the most wonderful and magical time of the year.”

You release a shaky breath as he leans down to kiss you with passion and determination, sealing those heartfelt words into your soul and lips. You wrap your arms around his waist, clinging to him, and the cold could never compare to the shivers he sends down your spine.

“Please, take me home and make love to me,” you purr, pulling away from the heated kiss. Your desire for him shadows the previous allure of snow and exploration.

“Already?” he smirks, nuzzling your cold nose. “I thought you were eager to explore the first snow of December?”

“We’ve seen enough for now. Besides, there will be plenty of snow this month, but right now, all I want is to feel your warm, naked body against mine as we fuck in front of the fireplace.”

He takes your hand and turns you around, heading back home. “Then let’s do just that, doll.”

Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

I don’t do taglists so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

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yandere-romanticaa · 1 year

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A month has passed since a strange cult took you within its ranks. It wasn't necessarily by choice but it was something you needed to do in order to survive. Your entire village had been destroyed in a sudden onslaught of ferocious demons, massacring all of your friends and family.

You were left with nothing.

For days you had roamed the mountains and with a heavy heart had accepted the fact that you were going to die, be it from starvation, dehydration or some stray demon devouring you from head to toe.

Lord Douma had other things in store for you.

He was a strange one, the man who rescued you. He was oddly easy to amuse and absolutely everything you did was incredibly entertaining to him. One of his favorite past times were when he would simply stare at you as you talk about your life and perform everyday, mundane duties. At first you thought nothing of it - he saved your life, the least you could do was indulge him just a little bit.

Red flags started to show up soon though - the way he would move and carry himself, it simply was not natural. Whenever there was a meal, Douma would not even look at the food or even have a sip of water. You chalked it up to him having his own private meals and decided to think nothing of it.

You had managed to settle within a comfortable routine which just so happened to often cross paths with the great Lord himself. He seemed to greatly enjoy your presence and would have you with him from the moment the sun had risen until wee hours in the morning.

How was he never tired?

Suspicion slowly turned to fear as you noticed that some members of the cult were missing. No one knew what came of them or where they were last seen, as if some foul creature had spirited them away.

You brought up your concerns with Lord Douma but he just called you silly and told you not to worry about it. "Nothing bad will happen to you!" he'd say reassuringly but his words gave you shallow comfort.

Douma, for whatever reason, was also quite fond of physical touch and you were his favorite when it came to that. He was absolutely shameless and would explore your body however he saw fit. Amongst those odd trysts, you noticed that a powerful metallic smell would cling onto him and would never go away no matter how hard you washed his clothing.

No amount of praying could prepare you for the horror you'd encounter on one moonless evening.

You had woken up due to a strange noise and, against your better judgment, decided to investigate. With nothing but a single candle in your hand and a long but thin nightshirt covering your body, you ventures downwards the dark and creepy hallways. It felt as though the shadows themselves were out to get you because you'd flinch at every single sound no matter how miniscule. The closer you got to Lord Douma's chambers the stranger the noises got - giggling, slurping and crunching could be heard as a horrible stench filled the air, a smell so vile that it made you want to throw up your dinner. You'd often ask him what he liked to eat but naturally, Douma would just dodge your question or say something really silly. "It's easier if I eat alone!" he'd say as he caressed your hair. With each step you took the stench became stronger and stronger and Douma's words continued to ring inside your head like bells.

"You see, I'm a bit of a night owl! It's also not smart to come to my chambers without knocking first!~"

You should have listened to him and his thinly disguised warning.

Through the tiniest of cracks you saw Douma on the floor, covered in fresh blood. A wicked grin danced across his lips as he toyed with the severed limbs with the mauled corpse of a young woman, her eyes stricken with fear even in death.

It took you every ounce and willpower to not scream bloody murder.

With the way he was treating the corpse you'd think that Lord Douma was but a child with a precious toy. His light tone and playful gestures sent chills down your spine as you covered your mouth with your hand, a desperate attempt to conceal any potential noises that may escape you. You watched him for a few moments as you let it all sink in, not even realizing just how much your entire being trembled with fear. Just before you could make a break for it you heard Douma speak.

"I know you're there, watching me. I don't know who you are but I can smell you!"

Crap.

Dropping the candle to the floor you could do nothing but freeze as Douma continued to speak, total indifference lacing his voice.

"I would leave, if I were you. I am in a good mood tonight and shall play stupid so I won't turn around to see your face! Now, be a good little disciple and go back to bed!"

Squeaking like a helpless puppy, you ran away with your tail behind your legs, not realizing that Douma knew damn well that it was you. The demon could sense your presence across a giant mountain if need be and your sweet smell would invade his senses every time he would think about you. It was a shame that you saw him in such a state but he really did not want to kill you. He was content with playing dumb and hoped that it would be the same case for you as well.

As long as you kept your lips sealed, everything was going to be alright.

Part 2 here!

#he's so bbg (he would eat me without a second thought)#yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yanderecore #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere aesthetic #yandere demon slayer #demon slayer x y/n #yandere demon slayer imagines #yandere demon slayer x reader #demon slayer douma #yandere douma x reader #douma #yandere douma #douma x reader #demon slayer x reader

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stevesbipanic · 3 months

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To my most lovely @undreaming-fanfiction Happy Valentine's Day love youuuu 💕💕💕 I hope I managed to do all three of your prompts justice (small routines, learning new things about each other, and ghosts of your past) ENJOY!!!!! And Ty @artbean for putting this together 💕💕💕

After five years together there's not a lot of things Eddie doesn't know about Steve.

He knows that Steve likes to colour co-ordinate the calendar on their fridge and that his favourite day of the month is the first since he gets to write out everything on a clean slate.

He also knows that Steve has a particular way he does his hair, and that it was a big deal just seeing it done let alone being taught how to do it, it helps he now knows Steve loves a good head scratch.

He knows that Steve is an early riser and always goes on a run, but will shower and curl back in bed with him if Eddie is still asleep.

He knows that there's an order to how and when he checks on their family. The Sinclairs are first, making sure he's waited until Lucas should be back from training and Erica back from Tracey's, calling there too if there's a sleepover. Next is the Wheelers, Nancy promising him they're all ok if they're visiting and Mike letting him know if she's available that night if she's at college. Then the Hendersons, Claudia inviting him to dinner in the background as Dustin regales his day. Max is next, letting Steve know if she wants to stay over that night. The Byers are the end of the kids, El and Will promising him it's really over. Wayne is near the end, back from his shift safe and sound. Before they dated Eddie was during this time too, helping him to sleep just hearing Steve's voice. Robin is last and she'll be on the line until they're both safely in dreamland.

Eddie loves learning new things about Steve, especially when now they're further and far between. It comes as a suprise when it's something as simple as tea that teaches him something new about his sweetheart.

They're visiting Steve's grandma, who was a lot cooler about the whole boyfriend thing than Steve's parents were.

"Your grandpa, Otis, had a friend, Freddie, who kept a picture of his boy in his pocket, would've gotten him in a lot of trouble back then but love like that was worth dying for."

She had been I'll lately so him and Steve had taken a drive up to visit her, now living in a retirement home in Indy. She was a riot in Eddie's opinion, and made a mental note to make sure they visited her more, he was happy to drive them, anything for Steve.

They were halfway through a game of Scrabble, where Eddie had successfully convinced Steve that Megadeth should be allowed (it shouldn't), when the question was raised.

Edith, yes Eddie also got a delight out of the fact that they shared a name, buzzed her nurse who popped her head in knowing there were visitors.

"Everything good, Eds?" Eddie's eyes twinkled in mischief, he was teasing Steve about the name similarities when they got home.

"A spot of tea, darling? I'm parched and I'm sure these lovely boys are too. Steve, sweetheart?"

"Oh yes, milk and two sugars please, but cubes on the side instead of scoops of it's not trouble."

Eddie's heart skipped a beat at his answer, "Eddie, you want a tea?"

"Oh um, yes, same as him, please ma'am."

"Such polite boys, we need more grandsons like you visiting," she laughed leaving to make the tea. It was surely just a coincidence that Steve took his tea like that, he's sure plenty of people do.

The real suprise came when the tea was set down, cubes on the side, and Steve picked one up and mixed it in, leaving the other alone. The game continued, Eddie eyeing that lone cube, a similar one on his own saucer. When Steve took his last sip of tea he picked up the cube and popped it into his mouth, crunching it. Eddie did the same.

"Done that since you were a kid, always a sweet tooth."

Steve laughed, "It's how my nanny did it when we played tea party with Carol."

Edith smiled, "She was a lovely woman, shamed they moved outta town."

Something settled deep in Eddie's heart. The rest of the afternoon it sat there, and through the goodbyes and hugs, all through the drive home too.

Eddie didn't mention it as they made dinner, Steve doing the chopping and as always Eddie dutifully stirring. The feeling sat there through the night as they watched tv, curled up in a blanket built for one not two. Nothing was brought up as they cleaned up, Steve washing, Eddie drying. It wasn't until bed, in the safety and quiet of their room that Eddie asked.

"Your nanny? What was she like?"

Steve's eyes lit up, "Oh she was the best, noone as good before her and no-one as good after. She loved taking me to the park, sometimes if his dad said it was ok her son would come too, he was fun, built the best sandcastles. She always baked me cookies too, especially if Carol was coming over for a tea party. And she would tell me the little extra sugar was a treat and that I should always have something a little sweet in life."

Eddie's eyes were tearing up by the time Steve finished, "Eds, baby are you ok?"

"What was her name?"

Steve's eyebrows crinkled, "Sarah, why? Oh." He said, remembering the dark curls that surrounded her face, the ones on her son, the boy laying across from him.

"Your mum, oh Eds, so when the tea? I'm sorry." Steve knew about his mum and how when she died it left Eddie all alone.

"Can't believe in five years, we've never had tea," a wet chuckle followed Eddie's words.

A sad smile graced Steve's face, "We should have more, need a bit more sweetness in my life."

Eddie smiled at him, "Knew there was a reason I called you sweetheart, and I clearly won you over with my awesome sandcastles."

A laugh burst out of Steve and that sound was sweeter than any sugar Eddie could eat.

#happy valentine's day #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #sweetandspicyexchange

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callofdudes · 7 months

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Zombie Ghost x Reader

Look at how adorable he is 🥰

Summary: After getting bitten by a zombie during the last outbreak, you and the team are clinging on to any hope you have of bringing back your friend.

Cw: Angst, death, gore.

A/n: I really do apologize for lack of updating as I've recently been quite a lot busier and mentally this feels like a brick load.

The zombie apocalypse. Unknown in origin and spreading around the globe in immeasurable numbers. Claiming half the popular by storm and turning them into spawn of the sucking, drooling, blood lusting bodies that dragged themselves across the earth. 141 was no stranger to dangerous tasks but while locked behind the safe haven of thick barbwire fences and giant floodlights on base to keep away from the spread, they were also charged with taking it down.

The daunting thought. Two of you sent out each week to kill as many as you could in a few days time while keeping regular in check hours with the others was grueling...

Ghost stopped abruptly along the treeline, forcing you to also stop, looking around at the chilly autumn landscape. You were lucky it was autumn, easier to see through the trees, the crunching of dried leaves and immediately give away to position. If only it didn't work for both parties.

You held your gun stiffly, unable to fight the urge to look back behind you several times. The air reeked of death and the smell was ungodly. You were close.

Ghost stepped forward again, shifting his crosshairs over toward the lake in the distance. Known to avoid water but not above sticking around it like fools. You both approached, surely this was your target end.

The whole thought made your spine tingle, and not in a good way. "Ghost- do you have a visual?" You whisper, turning again behind you just to be sure it is still barren.

"Negative." He replied, shifting his gun as he approached the end of the hill, staring down into the valley. A dead end.

He looked around before lowering his weapon. "Nothing."

"But there was a sighting around here." You look down at the lake where the water didn't stir and then around at the thick trees.

"I know, but I'm not-"

There was a crack, a branch above from a nearby tree giving way, it's limbs tearing like string as the weight came crashing down. Simon cursed as the branch hit him, sending him to the ground before feeling those cold dead hands grab onto his throat.

"Simon!!" You pointed your gun, watching the two struggle while trying to get a clear shot.

Ghost grunted, the zombie snarled at him, saliva flicking onto his face. Those milky, glazed eyes and the smell of the rotting flesh from its corpse. It leaned down, it's blunt teeth attempting to sink into him but Ghost managed to thrust it back.

You shot a bullet through its spine, hearing it screech and spill up blood from its mouth, animalistic hunger seeping in and it sunk its mouth into Ghost's forearm, biting and tearing into the flesh.

Ghost tries to get away and kick it off, managing to send it sprawling and losing its tight grip on him. And watching you put more than a fair share of bullets into it.

He panted, his arm throbbing. He winced under his breath, pulling up his sleeve and seeing the deep mark and the flesh torn from his skin from the separation. The way his veins were already bulging and searing black from the point of contact. Almost instantaneous...

"Were you hurt??" You move back over to him.

Ghost yanks down his sleeve

"No. I'm fine."

"Ghost-" You reach out for his arm and he tries to push you away, only aiding you in getting him with both hands, pulling his sleeve up to see the bite.

"Shit...." Your worst fear. You couldn't imagine yourself getting bitten, but one of your friends. Your lieutenant.

"We need to get you back home, fuck, how much time do we have??" You turned on your radio, comming in to Price for evac and a medical team.

Ghost watched you, feeling a sharp pain fill his head. He blinked, trying to ward it off, the whites of his eyes already invading his pupils and glazing over his irises. The venom spreading through his body and claiming him.

You looked at him, seeing him watching you and trying to hang on. "It'll be ok Simon." You said it more for yourself it felt. He gave a simple nod, sitting down against the tree nearby to try and stabilize himself.

The wait until evac and medical came was intense. You tried to keep Simon talking but it was clear his mind wasn't right. Half here half somewhere else, zoning in and out.

A new form of hunger already coiling in his stomach and taking over like a hand slashing through his intestines. Opening gashes and letting fluids pour out and burn the inside of him. That's what the hunger felt like. The wanting. The need.

To feast and sink his blunt teeth into the warm flesh of a body and tear it right from the screaming corpse.

He held his head, tapping his foot violently fast against the ground, trying to distract himself.

You watched him worriedly, looking back as medical came rushing over from where the helicopter had landed some hundred feet away.

"He needs help! Right now, he needs help!" You yell as they approach, one of the soldiers taking you aside while the other two stand Simon up.

"He's been bitten you need to help him!"

Ghost staggered, looking at you as the medical officers walked him back to the helicopter and helped him inside.

Your heart was racing. Would this be a goodbye?? What would happen?? Could they save him?? So many questions so little time.

You were loaded into a separate air unit while medical attended to Ghost.

Back on base they didn't let you see him either. Every minute wasted was a possibility to save Ghost and you knew that. But you couldn't help and see how Ghost struggled. His pale fists clenching, his once blue veins deep black, tinting the color of his skin.

How he struggled and fought the restraints of the medical bed before you were ushered in a different direction to go see your team.

It was quiet entering the living area, seeing Price sat there in his favorite chair, the rocker completely still while Johnny and Gaz occupied the couch, fidgety.

Gaz was the first to react, getting up and rushing to you. "Oh thank goodness. You had us worried mate- are you ok?" He inspected you, worry in his eyes until you squeezed his hand.

"I'm ok Gaz, I'm ok."

"So it's true then?? The report??" Johnny asked, still glued to the couch.

"About Ghost? Yes... he was bitten."

The reality all of you knew and yet weren't entirely willing to accept. You'd never managed to save anyone from the claws of the virus no matter how many small doses of formulas and stimulus syringes were produced all too quickly for them to properly work.

And if they did work, the constant need to be injecting it to keep the virus away from completely devouring the brain and the immune system was taxing.

You didn't sleep that night. Trying to imagine what Simon was feeling. Tossing and turning through every hour, thinking of Ghost. Your friend.

Maybe if you had helped faster? If you had shot faster or kicked the stupid thing instead of standing there like an idiot. All the what ifs drowned you and your worries for Ghost.

The next morning you were planning to stop by Simon's hospital bed to check on him and see if he was doing any better.

Before you could though, you were abruptly interrupted in the hallway by Johnny.

"Y/n, you have to come down to the containment room... it's not good."

"Containment...?" Your heart pounded. "Come on, let's go." You and Johnny rush down the hallway out past the medical rooms to a different room. One you had installed after the outbreaks to help keep any spawn in base contained.

Rushing into the room the containment unit was already surrounded by Gaz and Price.

You heard that snarl, the heavy breathing. Light footsteps that stalked the tank within.

"How is he??" You push in between them, seeing the unit. Simon... Simon was inside. But he didn't look like Simon. Not anymore.

The skin around his face was dark and bloodied, teeth bared and his eyes milky and cloudy.

He snarled when he saw you, he smelled you. Pounding on the unit and lashing out. His fists pounded on it, staring at you like a snack. Something he could eat whole. Swallow in one meal.

He mimicked those disgusting sounds of the horrors that roamed the wastes outside the base.

He slammed his body into the tank. Snarling and yelling as he threw himself, clawing and pounding on the windows.

"Simon stop!" You called, stepping back as he thrust himself at the window, slamming his fists into it.

Blood flicking over the glass and splattering with each hit.

"Simon you're hurting yourself!!" You cried, seeing Simon in a frenzy. Was this Simon?? This wasn't Simon. This wasn't your friend.

But you didn't know what you would do without Simon. You couldn't go on without him and right now he doesn't look like he is wants to be friends with you.

Simon was in so much pain. His stomach twisted and squelched inside his rotting body. It was so numb and yet he felt pain in every layer of flesh that was torn from his body.

He couldn't control when he bit that doctor, he couldn't control when he'd smashed the monitor and snapped his neck. He was hungry. He was so fucking hungry.

And now you were here, and that angry appetite only grew. He nearly salivated, he could smell your warm skin. He could see the fear and the hope in your eyes, but his hunger was in control. It's all he knew.

You continued to watch him throw himself at the tank, trying to calm him down, to get him to stop. To see any resemblance between your friend still in there. If there was anything.

"Simon please I need you to stop, stop Simon, please." You moved closer to the tank, placing your hand on it to try and calm him.

A moment of silence went by before he lunged again, screaming as his blunt, exposed teeth gnashed at the window where your palm was, making you jump back.

Price places his hand on your shoulder, watching Simon continue to try to get out. To fight the horrible hunger inside him.

"I'm sorry soldier..."

You quivered, seeing Simon like this broke you. Rushing from the room and back under your covers to cry. Simon, your best friend...

Why hadn't you just been faster. If you hadn't been so dumb and seen where that stupid zombie was perched this would have never happened. It felt like your fault. It was your fault.

Every day you went to see Simon, and every day it just felt worse. His anger slowly started to calm and you even took the occasional chance to try and feed him through one of the tubes attached to the tank.

Simon would eat it, but would watch you. Sometimes you knew he was looking at you because he wanted to eat you and others you weren't sure. It was a numb look. Blank. A look you all too often couldn't read.

You'd sit with him when he had stopped acting crazy. He would sit on the tank floor staring or would walk around, licking the tube into the tank to get any reminisce of the slop you had to feed him to help his hunger.

You would talk to him even if nothing was said back. It was like you were talking to a brick wall all over again.

It was your fault.

You did this to him.

He's hurting. He's in pain.

He's your best friend.

Hoard after hoard the team kept fighting, but you couldn't do this without Simon. You couldn't. And you couldn't fight knowing Simon was back on base locked up, going stir crazy and trying to get out. Fed anything from leftover meals if he was lucky...

It was another dark night. Sitting in your room while looking at one of the photos you had taken of Simon. One of the only photos you had where you caught his eyes in the light, seeing the glint and the faint sparkle that would travel back and forth. The corners of his eyes creasing from his hidden smile.

You left your bed, tucking your blanket around your shoulders with the photo in hand. You wandered down past the medical room and to the containment unit.

Flicking on the dimmer lights you saw Simon sitting at the back of his tank, eyes immediately on you when you enter.

"Hey buddy..." you whisper, coming over to the tank.

Simon snarls lowly, staring at you and slowly standing when you placed your hand on the tank. "I'm sorry Simon... I'm truly sorry..."

He huffed through his nose, coming over to the tank. He didn't bang on it, he didn't attempt to jump. He watched you. In the quietness, his glazed over eyes showing no signs of the person you once knew.

But then, for a moment, something happened. His hand came up, touching the glass over your palm from the other side. Seeming content.

You looked in at him, making your final decision. "I can't go on without you Simon. I just don't think I can watch you be kept in here. Not when I know they'll kill you soon."

Simon continues to silently watch you. You move away from the tank and over to the console in the corner, granting access to the security latch on the unit.

You both heard the hiss and the click. Simon's eyes watching you with that hollow, hungry desire. He pressed his hand to the glass, watching it move and shift open, letting him out into the air.

He smelled of death and rotting flesh. Sounds gurgled up in his throat, and he lunged at you. You gasp, your natural instinct to fight until his nails sunk into your shoulders.

You looked up at him as he sunk his teeth into your cheek, making you cry as he bit down and tore through the flesh and tendon, liquid squelching and blood splattering across the walls.

Tears swelled in your eyes as he chewed down your flesh and gnashed his teeth into the side of your face, pulling and tearing the tissue away from the bone and devouring you.

You cried, the pain making you fight and struggle against him as you went down to the ground. He straddled you, moving down your body, nails tearing at your collar bones and down your chest, completely tearing open your clothes and drawing blood from every inch of your skin.

That animalistic hunger inside him fed off the warm delicious taste of your skin.

"Simon-" You cried, knowing your fate was sealed. He continued to tear into your body. Snarling and hissing as blood spilled. He tore into your chest, making you scream as he broke through your ribcage and made for your heart, ripping it right out of your chest.

You choked, clawing for a last reminisce of life. Trying to cling on, to do anything. Your mind went blank and you succumb to the torture. Simon continues to eat, his hunger having been fed little by little by the slop from that tube.

The taste of your warm skin as it traveled down his raw throat was unlike anything he knew. It only grew that hunger inside him, his eyes glazing over and clouding thicker as the damage became beyond irreversible.

Pulling apart inch by inch of you and biting in to it, leaving you a bloody mess.

Blood marred all down his chin, making his face look black from the thickness of the blood. His hands covered and his nails dripping.

He could smell more of it. He snarled, getting up and slipping through the open door and down the hallway.

Growling and snarling as he went, stopping by the first door where he smelled a mix of human flesh with gunpowder and spice.

His stomach twisted in excitement as he pushes the door in, seeing the peaceful form that lay there. He moved, jumping on the bed and tearing into his once friend in his sleep.

The terrified screams of panic and pain as he tried to fight Simon off, grabbing his journal and trying hit him in the head in a desperate attempt to fight.

Simon twisted his head away, tearing into his throat and ripping his vocal chords out with the chunk of flesh, blood splattering everywhere.

Two down. Two to go.

Yes, this is immediately what I thought of when I first saw him so... yeah. It's unedited and I wrote it between taking naps so apologies if the gorification be lacking.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #captain john price #zombie au #cod apocalypse au #platonic ghost x reader #not really either which way i suppose #angst #simons got your nose 🤭#simon riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty zombies

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 9 months

Text

A Perfect Score - Chapter 3 - Goosebumps | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: You perform your first match with Aemond, and things are beginning to heat up in the figure skating business | Word Count: 6.8k~ | Warnings under the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: sexual tension, masturbation (f), reader having racy thoughts but nothing crazy, mentions of medical treatment for trigeminal neuralgia, mentions of an open relationship

A/N: shoutout to @asumofwords for giving me inspo for the 'stretch'. Also we love a slow-burn enemies to lovers moment, but we're heating up! 🔥

Comments, reblogs & likes are always appreciated in this household. I love u 😚

“Again”

You were covered in sweat, visible in the black tank top you were wearing and by the harsh lights that illuminated the ice rink. Your chest heaved noticeably as you placed your hands on your hips, the remaining momentum having you glide across the ice as you looked at Aemond, who stood tall, arms crossed and looking as stern as the day you met him.

In the weeks training with him everyday, you’d managed to at least try to be civil (save for a few choice words over dinner which had either of you leave the table instantly. One time you both tried to leave at the same time, and had a staredown, which delighted Aegon immensely). Aemond had not changed his attitude, neither had you.

Nor had Aemond apologised for what he’d said. And so much time had passed now, you were unsure if he ever would.

Anytime you would both pass one another in the hallway, every shared look at the dinner table felt like striking a match and depending on the day, it would catch and spread, and erupt into a fully blown argument. A clashing of personalities that were perhaps too close to one another to truly get on.

You straighten up, sucking in a breath, “Aemond, it’s late”

He checked his watch, the look on his face confirming that it was indeed late but that he didn’t care. He shrugged, “Again”

With a sigh, you get back into position, trying to ignore the way he so blatantly stares and picks apart quite literally everything you do. Even if he is right sometimes, it doesn’t make it any less annoying.

You can feel every muscle begin to ache from the everyday rigorous training you’ve been doing, and icing your muscles in between is helping but not entirely. Every night, you sleep like a freaking baby, since it takes all your brain capacity to tiptoe around Aemond wherever you go. You appreciate it’s his home and he can be wherever he wants in it at any given time, but not being on good terms is starting to drain the very energy out of you.

For what feels like the thousandth time you build up some speed (wanting nothing more than to just push him over on those stupid skates he’s wearing) and jump into a spin, stretching your leg as far and as high as it will go without assisting it with your hand.

“No, no” Aemond says quickly, shaking his head and gliding over, making you stop.

He stops behind you again, his skates crunching to a halt.

“Don’t bend your knee” he comments, “did you stretch?”

You throw him a pointed look over your shoulder, “I always stretch”

Aemond hums, which is becoming increasingly annoying as the weeks go on.

You gasp in surprise when his hand reaches for your leg and lifts it, his hand encircling the legging-clad skin near your knee, grasping with minimal pressure. It momentarily tips you off balance, not having expected it, and his other hand goes back around your waist, palm flat on your middle between your ribs to keep you standing straight, as it had been the first day you practised together.

“Don’t bend your knee” he repeats, lifting your leg higher, tightening his other arm around you to keep you level and inadvertently tugging you closer to him, so much so you can feel his leg against your hip. “That’s it”

He lifts your leg so that it stands at a 45 degree angle, as straight as your leg will allow. But aside from the way your leg is stretched, your brain feels like it’s short-circuiting. His fingers curl around the meat of your thigh, pressing lightly to keep you up.

He is so close to your back, that you’re sure you can feel the puffs of air out his nose as he breathes, making the hair around your face sway somewhat in your periphery. And more than anything, his other hand, firmly on your torso, presses in, drawing your bodies almost flush with your back against his hardened chest.

All this makes your skin go all warm, in spite of the harsh air conditioning, your chest entirely too tight and everything about what he’s doing, how close he is, how his stature looms behind, all serves to make you realise how small you feel in comparison. You swallow anxiously at the thought, hoping he doesn’t realise how your breathing is suddenly heavier.

Your leg firmly on the ice wobbles slightly off balance, and he moves his hand to your waist, squeezing tighter.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you” he says, hushed, probably the softest his voice has ever seemed.

You turn your face only slightly when he says that, not having to move much to look back at him behind you. Almost as soon as you do, Aemond lowers his face, his eye meeting yours.

He’s worn his hair down today, as he sometimes does, but several strands are tucked firmly behind his ear, swinging softly in the gentle breeze. It makes your skin tingle and goosebumps form on your arms.

His eye flits around your face, and you know he must be able to see the slight flush you feel in the centre of your features, spreading down your neck, all the way down to your belly. In the closeness of the gesture, he stands tall behind you, and you see his eye run over your tank top, from his angle the shadow of your cleavage just visible.

He looks back at you quickly again, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, which have now stolen your attention. They stay parted, and he breathes ever so slightly heavier out his mouth.

It’s so miniscule, the gesture, that if you weren’t paying attention you’d miss it. But his hand slips from your mid-thigh just that little bit lower, and both of his hands squeeze tighter, until he skates backwards, gently letting you go. Something tugs about your core at the action. It felt so intimate. So sensu-

“Good, that’s good” he says weakly, clearing his throat.

You lower your leg almost as soon as he retreats, the place where he had touched burning significantly, feeling like you’d touched a hot kettle.

The session ends like this. Like there's something unspoken, and a hammering in your chest that won't cease as you walk up the cobbled path back to the house. Now that you're outside, you feel cold from having exerted with the soft sheen of sweat over your body. Aemond looks the same, his shirt sticking to the front of his chest and the hem around his biceps.

Aemond walked quickly ahead, helped by his long legs, but he was walking faster than usual, as if in a hurry to get back inside. He threw the glass doors open and rushed through the kitchen, not bothering even to say hello to Helaena who was leant by the counter, idly eating cereal.

Helaena looked at him and then at you as you stepped through the door, "What's wrong with him?" She asks, gesturing with her head. It was a common question since your arrival.

You can still feel the colour to your cheeks. But at least you could blame the fact that you were training just now. Even so, Helaena looked at you with a mischievously suspicious look.

You shrug, trying to be as convincing as possible, "Don't know. We just finished training"

Helaena raises an eyebrow, looking at the clock on the wall, "At 10:30 at night?"

"Yeah?"

Helaena smirks, as if she's not convinced.

"Sure"

You sigh, opening the fridge for a cold bottle of water, "Don't be like that, he hates me"

"He doesn't hate you" she insists, "He's just…antisocial"

You look at her sharply after a good sip, "That's neither true or an excuse"

Helaena bites her lip, desperate to say something, but she shakes her head and looks back at her bowl.

Sighing you check your phone, seeing an email from Hightower Management. It must have come in while you and Aemond were on the ice.

"What's this?" you ask, showing Helaena the screen.

"Oh, we've got a match in a few days. It decides who goes on the championship tour and Otto is just giving us the details. What to wear, which routine we'll do etc"

You scroll through the email absentmindedly, taking in the more important details, "I'm supposed to wear white?"

Helaena nods, "Aemond always wears black. Me and Aegon always wear variations of red"

You bite your lip, "I'll have to see if I have anything white"

"If you don't, we'll go shopping," she smiles.

"I can't afford that"

She furrows her brows, "Babes, Hightower Management will pay for it"

There's something about them paying for everything which, deep down, doesn't sit well with you. But you suppose, now that you're working for them, they really should pay. It just feels wrong. Especially after all those years where you had to make your costumes yourself, bent over the desk at ungodly hours only to be awake training the next morning.

You quickly bid Helaena goodnight, feeling the sudden hit of fatigue in your muscles as you drag your feet up the stairs.

You're barely on the landing as you hear Aegon murmuring lowly in the hallway, barely standing over the threshold of his bedroom. Aemond is leant against the doorway, one hand gripping the frame at the top, his lips pressed together as he chats with his brother lowly. So quietly in fact you can't tell what either of them are saying.

Hearing your footsteps approach your room, Aemond looks over, the conversation grinding to a halt when he sees you.

Warmth and embarrassment blooms across your skin, settling deep in your gut. He's clearly had a shower, as his hair is loose and damp around his shoulders, his skin ever so slightly flushed from the hot water.

As much as you don't want to admit it, you can't deny that you sneaked a peek at his grey sweatpants, hanging loosely on his hips, which you can only see since the black shirt he's wearing is riding up slightly with one hand on the doorframe, the grip now tightened somewhat.

Just like that everything is hot again and something akin to dull excitement settles between your legs.

Stop it.

You can remember his firm grasp on your thigh.

Stop it.

His eye flits over you again, jaw tensing noticeably. Your breathing noticeably heavier.

You gather your breath, willing the heat to disappear from your face and quickly retreat into your room, finding solace in the quiet, cool sensation of being away from Aemond, thoughts having a moment's reprieve.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

It surely can’t be the birth control. Your hormones have never been out of whack before? They had been on that pill, but that was ages ago...

So why does it feel like all of a sudden, you feel like you haven’t fucked anyone in a while? And why does it suddenly feel so urgent?

You try and think of the last time you slept with someone. Gods, it must have been several months ago with that guy from Highgarden, the one who came in about forty seconds and spent the rest of the evening crying.

It was unsatisfactory, yes, but you don’t have time to date! There’s no room for someone else in the busy schedule that is being a professional figure skater. None whatsoever.

You briefly think if you packed your vibrator with you and realised very quickly, that you didn’t even think about it when you moved out, thinking that you wouldn’t be gone long.

So once you’re showered, hair dried and laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, eyes tracing the patterns of the ceiling-rose with the domed light sat ornamentally in the middle, your stomach still carries that warmth you felt earlier.

The way his grasp lowered on your thigh.

The way his hand squeezed your waist.

The way his words had been whispered softly into your ear, warming your neck.

You shake your head in frustration, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes. What the hell is going on? He’s a twat! It is against every moral cell inside you to find this man even somewhat attractive, after the things he’s said to you, nevermind his terrible attitude on top of that.

But as you have thought before. He can be both a twat and attractive right?

This is how you rationalise it, as your hand slips beneath the hem of your underwear, bringing yourself that dull buzz of pleasure as your middle finger teases your bud, aided with the surprise that you’re already wet. Your head tips back against the pillows, pressing your lips together to keep your sounds low in your throat, the other hand dipping beneath the oversized sleeping shirt you were wearing to cup your breast.

Not at all imagining they were someone else’s.

No, that would be weird.

It happens faster than usual. Your finger speeds up over your bud, pressing lightly as your hips move with the rhythm only slightly, and your orgasm sneaks up on you quickly, rolling through your body so fast that a quiet whisper of moan manages to slip out. By the time your hand makes it up to your mouth to cover your lips, the muted high is beginning to dissipate into your limbs.

You pull your fingers back, feeling the tiredness lingering in your body now that your orgasm has subsided, and close your eyes to sleep, just hoping, praying, that whatever you were even thinking about that asshole, would disappear by morning.

It absolutely hadn’t disappeared.

That said, there was still a lingering annoyance in the way your partnership brewed in this murky state. Not speaking properly to one another, not even really looking at one another, and just marching through your training together, having to be the kind of intimate that is more indicative of lovers than business partners.

The match was taking place at Summerhall. A sort of halfway point for all the contenders of each region of Westeros, to come together and determine who most deserved to go on the tour of Westeros, competing for the championship title.

Your body was filled to the brim with nerves the entire journey there, your stomach doing flips with every speed bump the minivan struggled to overcome.

That morning, Aemond had been entirely irritable until he was summoned to a closed off portion of their family home, confined to a room for several hours. You sat in the doorway entirely confused, until Helaena had the heart to explain once Alicent was out of earshot.

"He's having his injections" she had said.

"His what?"

Trigeminal Neuralgia. It was explained as.

As a result of this accident, which you still knew nothing about, Aemond had suffered with severe facial pain as the damage had interfered with the nerve. As a result, he endured glycerol injections in the side of his face, which provided relief for a few months, even stretching to a year.

But when the pain flared, Helaena explained, he was impossible to be around.

Your heart aches with a kind of sympathy, knowing that Aemond has to deal with this pain and recurring painful injections to keep it at bay. And as he finally comes out, with a plaster taped to the side of his face, he at least looks a bit more relaxed.

Or as relaxed as Aemond can be.

It results in neither of you speaking the entire journey to Summerhall. He'd put in his airpods, blasted his music and fallen right to sleep, his head only moving when the minivan took a sharper turn than expected.

Part of you can't help but look at him when he was asleep, stealing glances where you otherwise wouldn't get away with. Admiring the sharp angles of his face, his aquiline-shaped nose and most notably, the sharpness and definition of his jaw and cheekbones.

It was a shame he was a dick.

Knock knock.

You shake yourself from the trance, looking up at yourself in the vanity when you hear someone behind the door of the changing room, their knock signalling their presence almost so soft you didn't hear it.

"Come in"

Alicent peeks round the door, smiling in a way only a mother does, her hair pulled back into a ponytail.

"How are you feeling?" She asks, once she's closed the door.

"A bit nervous, but fine" you reply, trying to sound convincing. But it clearly doesn't land, as Alicent smiles softly, sitting down next to you.

"Come, let me put on your skates" she suggests softly.

In the end, you'd misread the email from Hightower Management that you should wear white. In fact it said would, and they provided you with an all white outfit, some of it decorated with rhinestones, and a flowy leotard, very much indicative of the usual sportswear. It looked more expensive than any outfit you'd worn, and it made you feel strange wearing it now.

Alicent tugs at your laces, tying them expertly like it was muscle memory, "You know it always makes me emotional. Watching Helaena skate" she muses, her attention on her task, "Reminds me of myself"

You swallow, unsure of what to say at first, "Helaena is a wonderful skater. You should be proud" you smile.

Alicent returns it, patting your skate-clad feet and plopping then on the floor, "And I am sure I will be very proud of you also, my darling"

Your heart squeezes. She says it with such sincerity and emotion, with not an ounce of patronisation behind it.

"You look beautiful" she praises, tucking a hair behind your ear. Your hair was half up and half down, with waves put into it (courtesy of Helaena, as you'd previously mentioned you had no idea what to do with it). And your makeup, as you've always done, is bright and non-descript. A 'barely-there' approach.

You smile in thanks, taking a calming breath as you follow Alicent out the dressing room, meeting the rest of the team on the benches near the rink.

All of the other competitors also wait by the side lines, talking to their coaches. A few you recognise based on their house colours, grey for the Starks, a brother and sister duo, Cregan and Sara. As well as gold and red for the Lannisters, Jason Lannister and his partner, Johanna (who he totally isn't cheating on).

More than anything, the one that pops out the most are the Dornish, with their dark hair contrasting with their bright yellow costumes. Qoren Martell, lovingly nicknamed 'The Scorpion' and his Dornish girlfriend Mara. They were known for being unbelievably cocky, and put on quite the suggestive shows with their moves out on the ice. For this reason, they always made it to championships, giving both of them alike a big head.

In the distance you can see Aemond, all dressed and ready entirely in black, including some brand new looking black skates. Unlike in training, he wears his hair down around his shoulders, looking somewhat mythical leaning against the wall, arms crossed and receiving a bit of a grilling from Otto.

"Miss! Miss! A word for the White Worm?"

"Is it true Hightower Management had you sign an NDA?"

"Could you tell us about your troubled childhood?"

A slew of reporters seem to block your path, each of them shoving whatever microphones or recorders they have in their hands right into your face. You're so taken aback, that you don't even have the brain capacity to say anything. Your mouth is just open, with only unintelligible sounds coming out.

Otto materialises, pushing several of the reporters away while Aemond wraps his fingers around your arm, gently tugging you away while they're dealt with.

"Ignore them" he says lowly.

You take yet another calming breath, suddenly hit with the sinking feeling that the arena is jam packed full of important people, and the judges are lined up at the front, looking stern as anything. It never fails to make you wince to see their expressions.

Your breath is almost taken away though when you look back at Aemond.

Where his glass eye would usually sit, nestled between the angry scar down his face, sits a sapphire, glimmering in the harsh lights of the hall. Your lips sit parted in utter fascination.

You shake your head when you realise you're staring, "Sorry, I-"

"It's fine" he replies quickly, "I wear it for competitions"

You nod, eyes flitting to both his good eye and the sapphire, as if transfixed, "It's…nice". You almost cringe at yourself for the way you've said it. But truthfully, it's so distractingly pretty, it's difficult to not be speechless.

He stands still for a long time, looking around awkwardly not knowing what to say, "Thanks"

The announcement over the speakers echoes that it's almost time for your performance, and you swear you feel cold all over. Your eyes scan the crowd, rubbing your hands together nervously, spotting Rhaenys at the very back with Rhaena. Upon spotting you they wave widely, and you return it with a grin, feeling your heart swell to see they've gone through the effort to come to see you.

Nerves eat at you, remembering the routine, the jumps, the landings. The incessant coaching of Otto doesn't go amiss either. You slip your blade guards off your skates, watching as several cameras pan around the rink, and the commentators up in the box talking into their microphones.

"This is the first match from famed Aemond Targaryen, aptly nicknamed 'The Ice Prince', since his former skating partner, Floris Baratheon, was injured significantly. His new partner has yet to perform in any championship deciding matches"

"Yes, an unconventional choice for the Targaryens, to have such a green skater to be paired with. Time will tell if she will crack under the pressure"

You're the first to skate out, doing a few laps to warm up and adjusting both your hair and your outfit, making sure your laces are tight and secure before Aemond also skates out, having had a few words with Otto.

Coming to a halt in the middle, you take another steadying breath, shaking the nerves from your arms, ankles crossed as Aemond stops behind you. The crowd goes quiet when you assume position, his hand splayed on your middle, with yours covering his, trying to ignore the way it stokes the fire within.

Mahler's Symphony, Adagietto begins to play. Part of you can't help but find it a boring choice, but now in front of everyone, the crowd as quiet as a whisper as you and Aemond begin the routine, it feels more magical.

With his hair down and the sapphire on show, he looks utterly majestic on the ice, donned entirely in black, contrasting starkly with your white outfit. You can't help but look over at him every now and then, enraptured by his appearance.

"Technically, wonderful performance so far. The couple seem distant though, which I wonder if it will tie into their performance"

The first several jumps and spins go perfectly well, by the book, landing with balance. All building up to the one jump that you can tell, everyone is holding their breath for. The jump you'd been practising with Aemond for the last few weeks, was now being watched and streamed for everyone to critique and see.

The throw triple lutz.

Your chest inflates, as you both skate backwards, Aemond's hands wrapping around your waist as he skates behind you.

"Will they land it?"

Aemond throws you in the air, twisting you slightly and aiding in your airborne triple spin. The crowd immediately erupts in applause and cheer when you land it, your foot stable, both you and Aemond skating and joining hands in the next move.

"They've done it!"

"She's mastered the landing"

"Wonderful performance technically"

You breathe out finally, relief and pride blooming in your chest as you complete the last few spins and moves with Aemond, who doesn't let a single thing show on his face. As stoic and stony as ever.

It isn't until the routine is over that you see Aemond breathe what could be a sigh of relief that it's over. He doesn't spare a look in your direction as you skate off, greeted instantly by an excited Alicent and Helaena, who are congratulating you in heightened vibrant voices. Aemond earns a pat on the back as he stalks off with Aegon, speaking lowly.

"That was amazing!" Helaena praises, looking the part herself in her red outfit, "such a good landing!"

"Thank you!" You respond, seeing both Aegon and Helaena taking off their blade guards for their turn, "Good luck" you smile at her, making your way over to the bench to get off your jelly-like legs.

Otto gives you a nod, showing his wordless appreciation. In that way, you suppose Aemond is a lot like him, using few words to convey what he thinks.

You sit beside Aemond at the side lines, watching the board and waiting anxiously before the scores come in. He sits still, only his left leg bouncing to show how he's feeling, his tongue poking his cheek.

Aemond murmurs something, so quiet that at first you don't even hear it.

"What?"

He turns his head slowly, his sapphire greeting you before his good eye does, stealing your breath for a moment.

"You were good" he repeats, clearer this time, "out there"

You bite your lip to hide your smile looking down into your lap, knowing it's hurting everything inside him to compliment one thing you've done.

He huffs a quiet laugh through his nose, turning away again, "Don't make me regret that"

You can feel the cameraman in your periphery move to angle in on both of your nervous faces as the scores come in.

With the exception of a few with some points knocked off, it's a clean score. The crowd erupts, and your heart hammers excitedly, the adrenaline making it feel like fire in your veins.

"A respectable score for her first pairs match. No doubt helped by her perfect landing of that triple lutz"

Alicent pulls you into a hug, offering her congratulations as you barely hear one another over the cheers. Your face burns from smiling so widely, relieved that you had done your bit and a damn good job of it as well. She moves on to hug her son, who offers a quick embrace, whispering something you don't hear to her.

"There she is. The Sweetheart of Oldtown offering her support to her son"

"The Targaryens make it to the championship tour yet again, Aemond Targaryen representing the Crownlands"

The last thing you see is Rhaenys and Rhaena in the crowd, clapping dramatically with wide, proud smiles. Your vision blurs with happiness for a moment, giving them a wide wave.

Turning to Aemond, you're not sure what to do to congratulate him. So you settle on offering your hand for him to shake. He eyes it for a moment, his brows pulled together, before shaking it, nodding in mutual thanks.

The camera doesn't miss it though.

Figure Skating is as much about performance, teamwork and performing for the cameras, aside from technical ability. You hate this fact more than anything. But every match, you're reminded it's true.

"Not a full house, but they have potential as a duo. No doubt points knocked off for performance"

"Let's hope the icy couple warm up once the championship tour rolls round"

Some of the nerves had begun to wear off by the time the after party rolled around. You bit your lip as you watched Helaena in the reflection, stood behind you and pulling the curling iron from your hair, making sure it was waved in the right direction.

She met your eyes in the mirror, smiling, the highlighter around her eyes twinkling, "Excited for tonight?" She asked, squirting some finishing oil into her hands and running it through your hair.

"For the free food? Yes" you smirk at her, "however, wearing heels, no"

When you arrived in the hotel after the match, the dress was already laid out with the heels and jewellery in a box on the bed, kindly paid for by Hightower Management once again, accompanied by a congratulatory note.

It was an all black outfit, a bit sexier than you otherwise would have picked, with a slit up one leg. But wearing something you wouldn't usually was kind of exciting and you touched the gold necklace around your neck, a simple chain with no pendant, and admired the neckline of the dress in the mirror.

"Done" Helaena chirped.

You stood, smoothing down the front of the dress, trying to get used to walking in the black heels, "How do I look?"

Helaena had helped to curl your hair at the back, fixing in place a gold hair accessory as she did so, "Gorgeous. Everyone won't be able to take their eyes off you"

Something flutters in your belly when she says that.

"Anyway, see you down there, I've got to go with Aegon" she smiles, slipping out the door in her fitted cream dress.

You look yourself up and down in the floor length mirror, fiddling with the ring on your pointer finger. Helaena had done a fantastic job with your hair, sitting in waves down your back. But you also couldn't help but feel weird wearing such a strappy dress, as it wasn't what you'd go for at all.

With a breath to psych yourself up, you swing open your door, going to step out, gasping back in surprise to find Aemond had his fist outstretched with the intention of knocking. Unlike you, he didn't move or say an inch, he just stares down, dressed in a black suit (this time with an off white shirt underneath), his sapphire still lodged in his left eye socket.

His eye briefly runs over you making your heart rattle faster, clearing his throat as he tucks his hand into a pocket, "Uh, Otto said I should come and collect you"

You swallow thickly, closing the door softly behind you, "Did he say we should go together?"

Aemond nods, rolling his eye somewhat as you make your way to the lift, pressing the button, "Everyone attends with their business partner" he says simply.

Oh, right. Just business partners.

The ride down the several floors is quiet, and feels longer than it actually is because of it. Aemond briefly adjusts his tie, trying to disguise the look he gives over the outfit you wear. Black to match him. Something flutters deep in your gut at the proximity, able to smell whatever aftershave he'd spritzed on himself as it clouds around your head, making your mind all foggy.

You both pause at the entrance to the event, absolutely heaving and bustling with the figure skaters, their managers, journalists and other important people, all dressed to the nines to impress. The classical music is barely audible over the chatter, laughter and clinking of glasses. The room has a smell about it, a sweet, saccharine floral scent flooding from the various expensive vases placed around. Lilies, you think. It's almost too overwhelming.

Suddenly, the slit in your dress makes you feel a tad self-conscious and you pick nervously at the fabric.

"Stop that" Aemond whispers, his fingers gently pulling your hand away, "Put on a brave face. It'll be over sooner"

Despite your skin burning where he'd touched, you nod once, taking a breath for courage.

Looking straight ahead, Aemond offers his arm, presumably to appear amicable. And you take it, barely putting pressure on the inside of his arm as you walk in together. Aemond keeps his steely stare, looking entirely uncomfortable in this environment.

The first people who approach you, arm in arm as you both are, are the Dornish couple, their dark hair curled and slick with gel. Qoren flashes a toothy grin at you, Mara on his arm looking somewhat doped out with her eyes hooded and kohl thick over her eyelids.

You surmise they must wear their rich yellow-orange colours all the time, judging by their outfits. And that the stereotype must be somewhat true, based on both of their plunging necklines.

"Here he is. The One-Eyed wonder!" He chirps. And you feel the way Aemond tenses up at the rude comment.

"Qoren" he greets flatly, biting his cheek.

Seemingly happy with his reaction, Qoren turns to you, "And who is this gorgeous flower?" He adds, hand outstretched for yours.

Politely, you offer your hand, introducing yourself and skin prickling when he kisses it for a little too long. Mara looks entirely indifferent, in fact she even has a smile on her face.

"So nice to see a fresh face in figure skating. I hope you are coping well with the Targaryens! Not everyone can handle their fire" Qoren muses.

What's that supposed to mean?

You're not quite sure what to say, so you settle for, "Thank you. Nice to meet you"

Otto appears suddenly on Aemond's left side, whispering something and easing him away. You feel somewhat apprehensive of being left alone when the two of them find a quiet corner to talk.

But when you look back at Qoren, your heart goes faster to find Mara on the other side of the room, chatting up Jason Lannister, which briefly makes your lips part in shock.

Qoren smirks, "Mara and I are open"

You shake your head quickly, "I didn't mean to stare I-"

He laughs, "It's alright. Really"

Luckily at that exact moment, a member of staff stops by your side and you quickly pull a flute of champagne off of it, sipping it slightly to take the edge off. You look at Aemond and Otto as you do. Aemond looks white as a sheet, staring at one corner of the room with a gaze that implies panic, with Otto still whispering in his ear.

When you follow their panicked looks, there's a woman standing alongside the strange brown-haired man from the schmoozing event, the one with the limp whose name you still don't remember. She is the epitome of beauty, with dark raven hair and blood red lips, her body filling out the emerald green dress with her hourglass physique and her neckline accentuating the fullness of her breasts.

"That's Alys Rivers" Qoren states, seeing your stare.

You look back at him quickly, cheeks burning from being caught looking, "Who?"

"Before our time. Retired figure skater. Represented the Riverlands"

"Retired?" You repeat, "she doesn't look very old"

Qoren scoffs, "She's older than she looks"

He points his pinky in her direction, leaning in to utter something quietly, "See that necklace?"

You follow his line of sight, eyes squinting in the low light. It’s true. A necklace hangs daintily in the middle of her chest, with a small pendant at the bottom.

"Sapphire" he tells you, "A gift from your One-Eyed partner"

What.

You look at Qoren, utterly dumbfounded. He just chuckles, seeing the supposed trouble he’s caused.

"Once upon a time" he says, gulping down the rest of his drink, "Not until mummy found out anyway"

You can't find it in yourself to reply. Too stunned into silence.

"Pretty thing like you shouldn't be stuck with him" now this does catch your attention, shocked at the blatancy of it, "If you ever find yourself bored of him. Mara and I are looking for someone else to sleep wi-"

"Oh no, no!" You reply quickly, forcing a laugh out, "No thank you, I uh - besides Aemond and I aren't -"

"There you are!" Helaena blurts loudly, coming to your aid, her eyes wide as if she knows exactly what she's breaking up.

She tugs you away before you have a chance to say anything, and you instantly feel relieved, "Thank you" you mouth.

She smirks, "It's alright, Aem shouldn't have left you alone with them hanging around"

You can't help but look back at the black-haired woman called Alys, now finding that Aemond has approached her. She leans close to him, speaking in a hushed and intimate manner, biting her ruby lips. Aemond on the other hand has his signature look, giving nothing away.

You want to ask.

You so want to ask.

"Do Alys and Aemond know each other?" You finally ask, giving in to curiosity.

Helaena snaps her head to you quickly, panicked almost.

"Qoren said something?" She asks, to which you nod, "They were together a few years ago, not for very long. That's probably all you should know"

Together…

The sapphire necklace.

It all makes sense. The urgency.

Otto was warning Aemond she was here.

Your lips part in wordless shock, "But…isn't she…"

"A fucking dinosaur? Yeah" Helaena says annoyed, sipping her own champagne and turning her back to them, "Disgusting is what she is" she mutters under her breath.

Dread descends on you, clouding the otherwise warm atmosphere of the after-party.

You look back. Aemond is watching Alys saunter away from the event hurriedly with a less-than-enthused look on her face. He looks visibly annoyed. Uncomfortable even.

It didn't look amicable.

So why would she wear the necklace?

Even when Alys has left, his jaw remains tense and you can't help but feel like he looks smaller, shrinking into himself with his shoulders rolled slightly forwards. His gaze briefly meets yours before you turn back, sensing you’d been caught, seeing how Helaena is also being tugged away by Aegon to chat with Cregan and Sara.

"You look nervous"

You jump out of your skin, almost dropping the flute as that Lars-Larry-whatever guy leans uncomfortably close, his eyes glinting with mischief as they roll over you.

Gods, this man is fucking creepy.

“You looked marvellous on the ice earlier” he praised, standing beside you, watching as you tapped your fingernails on the glass nervously, “Larys Strong. Skating Journalist” he introduced, allowing himself to briefly shake your hand.

You gave as polite a smile as you could muster, “Yes, I have seen you around” Lurking around, more like.

He hummed with a small wry smile, his blue eyes darting around the room, meeting Aemond’s, who was looking at them as if wondering what they were talking about.

“Are you enjoying your time with the Targaryens?” he asked in what seemed like an innocent way.

“Yes, thank you” you reply, clearing your throat, “they are very accommodating towards me”

Larys leant against the table to take the pressure off his leg, “It is a wonder…”

“What is?” you turn to him, confusion ebbing into your tone. He smiles, eyes looking elsewhere, apparently pleased that he’d managed to capture your curiosity.

“...it is a wonder why Hightower Management approached you, over say, an experienced Pairs skater.”

Your lips part. Where do men get this innate fucking audacity?

“...Jeyne Arryn. Maris Baratheon. Even Netta, of no notable house, would be good choices. Better even”

“If you have something to say to me, just say it” you reply, jaw tensed and eyes trained forward on him. Entirely sick of the patronising manner of speaking.

Larys meets your eyes, still smiling “I have some information that may be of use to you. Regarding your employment with Hightower Manage-”

“Excuse us”, Aemond’s tall form appears beside you, standing between yourself and Larys, whose face falls significantly into a stoic frown once he realises the conversation is over.

Your annoyance towards the so-called journalist is stunted somewhat by Aemond’s hand on the small of your back, pushing you away from the conversation, making colour bloom to your face and neck.

Even several paces away, his hand remains there, the contact making your skin erupt in goosebumps as it trails slightly higher up your spine. His body bends to whisper in your ear, “Stay away from him. He likes to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong”

Tell me about it.

“What did Qoren want with you” he asks, his voice low in a whisper, his hand moving to your arm to pull you along. There’s something angered about the way he asks it, his fingers somewhat digging into the meat of your flesh.

The warmth is tainted somewhat by all the frustration of feeling as if secrets are being kept from you as well as the flat, demanding manner of his voice.

You bristle away from him, the warmth of his hand disappearing, “I’m not your fucking girlfriend, Aemond. Stop treating me like one” you hiss, turning to look at him, “just business partners. Right?”

Aemond stands there, briefly confused. But the longer your eyes look at one another, the more his expression shifts into something that you’ve seen only a handful of times. Like that time he saw you training for the first time. And when he assisted your leg stretch only a few days ago.

He half blinks. Trying to hide the passing of his gaze over your form with it.

“You look nice”

Instead of feeling flattered, rage only floods through your veins. Who does he think you are? Some vain, empty-headed woman who can be so easily swayed with a compliment? Throwing yourself at his feet just because he said the most basic nice thing he could even muster?

“You fucking-”

Otto Hightower steps in, unapologetically breaking up whatever it was that was happening (but his face seemed like it couldn’t care less anyhow), hands behind his back, “There you both are”

You and Aemond hit pause on whatever argument was brewing.

“I’ve spoken with the staff. You shall both be on tour together in a week. Alone”

What.

Neither you or Aemond are capable of a cohesive reply, staring blankly at Otto, who just smiles, nods his head once and turns away.

Alone. On tour. With him?!

Fuck.

Taglist 1 (Bold means I could not tag!)

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

Text

Cold as ice II

a/n because why not take an opportunity to cry some more. I am so thankful for all the love honestly! You guys are the best!✨🤍

summary: what happens when Ellie stumbles upon a memorial that turns out to have both your and Joel's kids names on it. When the past pain is brought back to the daylight even the coldest of hearts finally break.

This can be read as a standalone but is written as a part two to Cold as ice.

warning: Killing, mentions of multiple death, loosing your kids, supplement use, mention of miscarriage, trauma but I think this is not as bad as the first part lol.

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"How is she?", Tommy approached Joel in a tight corridor that was filled with both sobbing people and soldiers shouting. "The same," Joel ran a hand over his face, "They are moving everyone out of here today. To a different quarantine facility." Those words instantly sparked something in Joel. "What? Shit, she's still pumped up with meds", if the process of going there was as torture as it was getting here, you barely stood a chance.

"Joel", Tommy started, but Joel was all up at his face within a heartbeat, "Tommy, if you'll tell me one more fucking time to leave her by. I will blow out your brain's myself". The tone was anything but pleasant. Joel had been wanting to rip someone to pieces for some time now. He had beaten the stranger to a pulp here after the first day. The man was standing in front of the door that led to your room. Crunched down to look through the little window. Joel didn't ask questions; he just swung a punch. Nor did he remember much besides that when Tommy pulled him away, the man was nothing but a pool of blood.

"You know that's not what…", "She lost two kids…", Joel's words cracked mid-sentence as the thought of his two angels once again swirled in his mind. His biggest and most precious little bugs were taken away like that. "So did you, man", Tommy brought Joel closer to him. Joel's arms moved to grip the material of his brother's jacket. He didn't want to cry, but the sob had come out of nowhere. The past three days have been a nightmare and then some. Now Joel was sure that he was paying for all of his sins. Paying in the most brutal ways.

Dragging you away from the field was the second hardest thing Joel ever had to do. He could only pray that his arms would not let him down as he pressed you closer to his body. Joel wasn't sure what they injected into your neck once you reached an army van and practically ripped out the eyes of the soldier who tried to help you into the vehicle, but you collapsed immediately. Joel barely managed to catch you. He pressed your unconscious body against his. Just like he had for the past hour or so. Praying and hoping that you weren't gone. Joel couldn't lose all three of you. Now you were all he had to fight for. No matter how much pain he was in himself. Joel had to drag you both out of the darkness.

Then he sat in the chair next to your bed. If you could even call it that. When they had ushered everyone underground, Joel had bribed a nurse to give you three a room and make sure that a doctor would come to check you. At that time, the price didn't matter. He needed an answer. Needed to know that you were going to wake up. High dose of sedatives - the doctor had said. "But I doubt it'll keep her out for long. After two kids… My apologies. If I'll find any medication", he had placed a supportive palm on Joel's shoulder. Something that would also end up feeling so foreign soon.

If Joel thought seeing you unconscious was difficult, it didn't compare to the heartbreak he had to endure the moment you opened your eyes. You jolted with a gasp. Eyes jumped across the room as you tried to figure out where you were. "Love…", Joel stood up, slowly approaching you. "Sarah… Malakai," you murmured as you continued to look around. "How about a glass of water, huh?", Joel asked, hoping to sway the topic. But you pushed the blanket off your body. "Sarah and Malakai," you repeated. Joel clenched his jaw. "Sarah and Malakai," "Love, stay in bed," Joel put his hands on your legs, stopping you from pushing them over the edge. "Sarah…Malakai", you said once again, eyes looking up at Joel, "They killed them. I saw… I saw," you breathed out, pressing a finger to your forehead where the bullet had pierced your son's skull. "I know, baby, I know", Joel tried to gently hold onto you, but the moment his palms touched your arms, you let out the loudest scream. Pushing him away as you turned to the other side of the bed. You dragged your feet over the cold concrete. Sinking to the floor without even being able to take a step forward. Joel rounded the bed as he kneeled in front of you.

"They are dead," you cried out, pulling at Joel's shirt, "My babies… I need to go, I need to…", you tried to pull yourself up by using Joel to brace yourself, but that only made you glance down at your hands, which were still slightly stained by the dried blood that had been on them. "Y/N, you need to calm down. Or they will come in here and", but you paid Joel no mind as you pulled your hands up so you could look at them.

"Get it off," you whispered, "Get it off," pushing your arms towards Joel as you screeched. Joel had scrubbed your unconscious body for hours. There was nothing more he could do. "Joel, get it off," you said once more, tears spilling from your eyes, and Joel couldn't bring himself to do anything. "It's everywhere, get it off", you moved your hand to rub at your skin. All you saw was blood. Blood everywhere. Rubbing turned into scratching, and soon your nails were raking over your skin. Joel quickly caught both of your wrists in his hands. Shaking you slightly as if in hopes of making your return to your senses. "Make it stop", you cried out, hallow eyes looking at Joel. "There's nothing on your hands, love", he barely managed to sound somewhat like himself. But you just shook your head at him, "There's blood all over them. Our kids' blood, Joel."

That was a day ago. Now you just lay there. Leafless. No movements. Eyes blinking once in a while. The only indication that you were still alive. Now Joel wished you would scream. The silence was torture. It was too loud. It pulled you so far away from him. Tommy clapped his brother on the back a couple of times before pulling away. "Get her ready. I'll look at how to get the best spot for you and make sure you two stay together," Joel said nothing. He hoped his eyes said enough. "You look after her. We'll get her back up on her feet," Joel could tell that even if Tommy tried to keep it somewhat positive, he didn't fully believe it himself. Didn't believe that there was any coming back from this. Nor did he believe that you would ever be the same. But Joel nodded anyway.

"Hey", Joel ran a hand over your forehead, once he stepped back into the little room, but didn't get a single movement in return. Not that he was expecting it. "We will have to get you dressed, okay? Then we'll need to go somewhere," Joel said, carefully pulling the blanket off your body before reaching for your clothes. Clothes he had washed. Wash off your kids' blood. Blood that seemed never-ending.

You were shivering. It hadn't stopped ever since you were brought in the first QZ. It had died down a bit. But there wasn't a moment when the quivering stopped. Joel pressed a kiss to your forehead as he walked through the corridor. Everyone was on high alert, and the soldiers were tired. Jumpy even. More than one person was killed here simply in the aftermath of unimaginable stress and anxiety. They only let healthy, strong people stay. Anyone with any injury, even the slightest one, was shot. You needed to stand on your own two feet. Walk through the lines of different specialists. Prove yourself worthy of surviving. And even that didn't guarantee you anything. You could have been hit by a bullet at any point.

You, however, were in no condition to stand. There was no way you could walk, much less talk. "Keep your head at the crook of my neck, love", Joel guided your head to rest there, "I will not let go of you even for a second. No one who will approach us will take you away from me," and at this point, Joel wasn't sure if he was still reassuring you or if it had turned to self-reassuring now. With the help of the doctor who assisted you just as you were brought here. They filed the documents of you having a miscarriage. Right here at the QZ. A piece of paper that had the main doctor's signature and forbade you from walking. That had high dosages of medicine marked as a fallacious move by the doctor itself. That you were more than a healthy female before that, and that you would regain that strength once the medication wore off. The only hope Joel had of getting you out of here alive was that piece of paper. And if that didn't work… Well, Joel was ready to kill anyone who stood in his way.

"Joel," Ellie's sad voice pulled the male out of the trance, "Sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you all of this." Joel rested his palms on his knees, ready to stand up, but Ellie quickly inched forward. It seemed to her that the man in front of her was no longer the same Joel she knew. "How did you… how did you get through that?", she knew the question was stupid. Joel let out a sad chuckle followed by a painful sigh, "You don't even have an idea how much strength you have until you are forced to use it. That's when you truly see your power". Joel had locked his pain away. Behind a plethora of locks, doors, and crevices. So no one could see it. No one could access it. Draped a shield of coldness on top of it. The coldness made Joel seem more like an animal than a human. He had to become a monster in order to protect the only thing that kept his heart beating. Nothing was off-limits when it came to you.

"I felt like I was failing every day. Every day that I saw her lying there," Joel shook his head at the images that haunted him. The feeling of helplessness flowed through him. Joel had found a woman who could pretend to be you for the time being. Who could take your evening shifts. Who kept the target off your back. No one was allowed to lay around in the QZ, there was too much work as it was. "Joel you were far from failing her", Ellie said putting her hand on Joel's palm, "It feels different kiddo when you see someone you love drifting away".

All the worried looks that Joel would give you made sense now. All the times he would walk up to you. Taking a hold of your hand as he looked at you. Moving to kiss your hands at the time, if not that then, Joel would just hold them in his much bigger palms. At the time, Ellie thought that by doing that, Joel was just trying to warm them up during the cold evenings, but now it had a way bigger meaning behind it. That was Joel's silent attempt to make sure that you stayed with him. That you wouldn't drift away. Like a true guard at night, standing his watch. Always ready to fight for you.

"And I felt horrible that I left him all alone", the sound of your voice made the two of them turn toward the door. "I kept on telling myself to get up. You need to do that for Joel, but…", you shrugged your shoulders. Joel reached his arm towards you, and you instantly walked close to him. Settling down on his lap. His arm snaked around your middle as Joel pressed a loving kiss to the top of your head. "I never blamed you for it," Joel whispered, looking straight into your eyes. "I know because you're an angel." You cupped his face gently. Leaning in to press your forehead to his. Brushing your fingers under Joel's eyes as you wiped away the last tears.

This man was everything. If you'd fallen for him and his sense of humor back then. The fact that there was never a dull moment with him that even the most serious moments could be turned into fits of laughter. If you had fallen for how attentive and caring he was toward your kids. The way he always put them first. The way he sat in the bathroom for hours learning how to braid Sarah's hair or how he played astronauts with Momo even after the longest shift. Putting him over his shoulder or back as he ran around the living room making all sorts of noises. Then Joel turned into a rock—a whole mountain that shielded you from the restless sea that threatened to drown you. Never moving. Never scared.

"I don't want you to feel like we've been using you as some sort of… as our kids' replacement. The love I feel towards you…" you started, but Ellie quickly shook her head. "How could I? No, Y/N never," she said quickly, and you reached for her hands. "You are a special girl, Ellie, so special," you said as you brushed your fingers over her cheek, and she leaned into your touch. Trying to savor it for as long as possible. "You both are like my parents and I've never felt that..", Ellie's bottom lip trembled. Joel reached out to her as well.

"And you are our girl," Joel said, his voice shaky, but he knew he had to say it. Had to let her know that his coldness toward her at the start was just his defensive response. His fear of the unknown. The fear of it all ending the same. But Joel knew that once his nightmare shifted and he started to see Ellie dying in Sarah's or Momo's place, he knew that she had sneaked past his guard. Ellie had managed to find that well-hidden spark inside Joel's heart. And there was nothing that could have been done about it.

Ellie wrapped her hands over both of your shoulders, pulling you both into a hug. A light cry slipped from her lips. Your hand instantly moved to rub her back in hopes of soothing her. Joel pressed a tender kiss to the crown of her head before turning his eyes to you. Your teary eyes were already looking back at him. You mouthed a silent "I love you" to him, which Joel returned straight away, followed by a light smile.

Once Ellie pulled away, you both looked at her with fondness. "Thank you for sharing this with me. You didn't have to, but you did," she said, as you rubbed away her tears the same way you had done before. "You are a part of the family now. Family doesn't have secrets," you said softly. "Plus, I think me and Y/N both needed closure", you nodded your head at Joel's words. You had told him multiple times that it was eating you alive that you were keeping this way from Ellie. You could tell that she sensed that something was wrong; she just never asked.

"Do you want to see a picture of them?", you asked, turning to Joel, who you knew had kept a picture of you four. The one he always carried around with him. Tommy had taken it on Momo's second birthday. The summer was in full swing, so you decided to have a barbecue outside. You stood there in a flowy dress, laughing at Sarah, who had a surprised look on her face since Joel had rubbed barbecue sauce on her cheek. Joel's head was thrown back as he laughed. Even Momo, who was nestled in your arms, had somewhat of a grin on his face.

"Sarah would have loved you", Ellie lifted her eyes away from the picture to the sound of Joel's voice. You hummed in agreement, "Momo would have been all over you as well you two cheeky bunch would have gotten into so much trouble". Ellie glanced back down. The image that she saw frozen in front of her seemed almost impossible compared to the two people she had met. But now she knew more than better to not judge the book by its cover. The deepest and most painful scars were always hidden the deepest.

"I would have loved to know them", Ellie said dragging her finger over their faces, "Momo, looks like a minute version of Joel". You let out a little laugh, "That's what I said. Imagine how mad I was after carrying him for nine months and he popped out looking nothing like me". Joel cracked a smile, looking down at the photograph himself. The one he barely pulled out these days.

"If we stay in Jackson, we must build them memorial stones and plant flowers all around them," Ellie said firmly. The tears picked up at the corners of your eyes as you gazed at her. "That's a really beautiful idea, Ellie bear," you said, running your fingers over her hair. Joel nudged Ellie's side playfully, making her let out a chuckle before he brought you closer to him once again. Time healed scars, even if slowly. But you two were here and now you had Ellie by your side. Your hearts, even if covered in scars, still beat for one another. Together, you were capable of anything and everything. Life has already proven that.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal imagine

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creative-caramel-coffee · 26 days

Text

Icicles and Injuries

Pairing: Wandanat x Reader

Prompts: Frozen (Day 2) + No way out (Day 11)

TW: minor injury, being trapped, hypothermia, mentions of death, partial nudity (consented)

Words: 2K

Summary: Reader gets trapped and needs to be saved before she freezes to death.

For once the miss had gone well. No injuries or accidents or hidden traps. It had been a breeze. Now all that was left was to sit tight in the nearest safe house in the woods and wait for Tony to send a jet to come and collect you. ‘You’ being Wanda, Natasha, Kate and Yelena.

By late afternoon it was still light outside and snowing lightly. A white dust of flakes covered every available surface in a thin layer of pale snow.

Being in the woods it was a beautiful sight to behold, yet Natasha and Yelena having come from Russia were most winters bordered on nuclear, did not share your enthusiasm.

Wanda and Kate had spent some time in Europe before and were a little more used to it. And sure, you had seen snow many times, but it was always a point of beauty to you. It helped you relax. Soft and cold it continued to drift down from above coating the landscape below.

“Wands? Natty? Do you guys wanna come with me for a walk?” You asked popping your head into the lounge room of the cabin.

“No thanks detka. Not right now. Yelena and Kate were going to watch a movie and I think Wanda was going to start dinner soon.” Natasha said looking genuine.

“Okay.” You said feeling a little saddened by the fact nobody would be coming with.

“Make sure you take a coat. It’s cold.” Nat said over her shoulder as she positioned herself between her sister and her sister's girlfriend with a shit-eating grin. Always the older sister, you thought rolling your eyes.

You said a quick goodbye to Wanda who echoed Nat’s statement about a coat before putting one on and a pair of gloves, boots and a beanie before entering the snow scene outside the cabin.

You headed for the trail behind the house. It was marked with signs on the trees as it snowed enough around here for trails to be easily lost without proper signage.

You sighed, feeling at peace and relaxed as the snow crunched softly underfoot. Setting off down the trail it was lined with fresh snow and small animal tracks, probably squirrels or rabbits.

As you continued down the track the cabin grew smaller behind you. It was a loop and came out down by the other side of the house.

Seeing the first sign on the tree you smiled at the small red arrow which was on a wood-stained oak board nailed into the tree.

You continued down the track listening to the serene quietness and peaceful sound of snow and birdsong.

Pulling your coat around you some more it was getting colder as the evening wore on and your nose was surely frozen as small snowflakes collected on your eyelashes.

As you continued down the short trail a flicker of movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. A small squirrel had hopped up onto what looked like the snow-covered husk of an old tree. The little creature chittered at you and you smiled softly at the peacefulness of the moment.

But before you could even think the squirrel ran up the tree. The tree looked like it had survived many winters and was well past due to be fell in the summer. The squirrel continued up the branches which were creaking eerily already laden with snow on the branches. Then there was a sharp cracking crunch, and the tree began to fall.

At the last minute the squirrel jumped onto a nearby branch out of harms way. Yet you stood frozen. You just had time to duck and cover as the tree crashed down onto the path. It fell in a way that had managed to avoid hitting you but had pinned your coat under its heavy trunk. Your left boot was also pinned, and you bit a cold breath of air back in shock.

The snow continued falling, however it seemed almost menacing now. If you stayed out much longer into the evening the temperatures would continue to fall, and that beautiful snow might be the thing that kills you.

You cursed yourself from forgetting your phone, not that it would have a signal, but it would be better than nothing. They may have been able to track you at least.

The sun began to dip under the tree line and the temperature began to drop faster without the sun to provide warmth.

The snow was collecting on top of the tree making the chance of escape seem slimmer and slimmer.

The snow was beginning to build up either side of you now. Blocking you inside the wooden ribs of the tree. The branches caving around you with the snow beginning to form a roof and sides.

It was cold and it no longer felt like just your nose that was frozen. Your cheeks stung with the cold, and you wiggled your fingers and toes to try and warm them up as well. Frostbite was a very real thing and one you did not want to ever have experience in.

As the sun began to cruise lower and lower in the sky it continued to get colder. The light was starting to go now as well, a dusky overcast type of light was all that was left. If this continued on for much longer you worried, they may never find you until the snow thawed, by then it would be too late.

Back in the cabin the movie was almost over. Yelena and Kate had ended up beside each other again with popcorn in their hair after flicking it at each other for the whole duration of the movie. Nat had already seen the movie and headed to the kitchen to fetch four mugs of hot chocolate to share.

As she stepped into the kitchen which smelled like heaven and smiled at Wanda.

“Wheres Y/n? Surely, she’ll want hot chocolate as well.” Natasha smiled.

“I thought she was with you?” Wanda said looking up from where she had been seasoning chicken.

“No?” Nat said frowning. “She should be back from her walk by now.”

“Oh god.” Wanda paled slightly. “She’s not still out there, is she?”

“If she is we better find her fast before it gets too dark. Cold weather like this can kill.” Natasha said. “You send Yelena and Kate to check the bedrooms before joining us in the woods. I’m going to see if i can find her. Join me when you’re done.” Nat said already slipping on a coat with a sense of urgency to her movements.

Wanda nodded her assent and went to tell Yelena and Kate.

After a little bit all three girls were out searching the woods. Wanda was focusing on finding you with her mind, but you were either asleep or close too it which worried her greatly.

Finally, she sensed you under an old looking tree covered in snow. She called the others over and focused, using her magic to move the tree off you.

When your red jacket came into sight Natasha was the first to get to you. Scooping your cold and limp form into her arms. You were breathing but also freezing cold.

“We need to warm her up. NOW!” Nat said as she began sprinting to the cabin with you in her arms.

Your cheeks had long since turned from a rosy red colour to a dusky blue as the temperature had fallen further.

Once Natasha burst through the front door she headed for the bedroom you, her and Wanda had been sharing the past few nights.

Wanda, Kate and Yelena followed close behind, nobody commenting on the water that was being tracked through the cabin. Their focus elsewhere.

Natasha gently set you down on the bed, Wanda beside her and Kate and Yelena hovering in the doorway.

“Alright.” Nat said. “Wanda i need you to help me get her out of these wet clothes they’re doing more harm than good.” She said already starting to peel off your soaked coat. “Yelena, Kate.” She began and the two stood a little straighter. “Go and run a warm bath, not too warm but just enough to not be cold.” Nat said and the two turned tail and headed for the bathroom.

Wanda was now working on taking off your snow-pants while nat continued stripping off your top half. After a minute you were left laying in just your sports bra and boxers, long past shivering.

“Now what?” Wanda asked seeming panicked.

“Now we warm her up. It works best with skin-to-skin contact. So, we need to cuddle her. Bring that blanket and put it on top. Once Yelena is done with the bath, we will kick them out.” Nat said. Pulling off her shirt and taking off her track pants. She was now stood in bike pants and a sports bra much like what she wore to training in the gym.

Wanda was one step behind as she took off her shirt in a matching outfit to Natasha’s.

You, Wanda and Natasha had been together almost three years now, so it was nothing new. But still, nat had sent Yelena and Kate away just because.

Nat climbed onto the bed beside you and began pulling a sheet over you. Wanda slipped into the bed on your other side and cuddled up close. Sucking in a sharp breath when your frigid skin came into contact with her. You made a small noise of pain and curled into her front. Your face tucked into her chest. Natasha curled up behind you, tucking you between the two of them. Wanda had one arm around your waist and the other holding the back of your head to her chest. Natasha had her arms over you and on Wanda’s bare hip and back.

After a few minutes of quiet cuddling, and the sound of your short huffy breathes, you began to stir slightly. Your eye’s blinked open before you whined and screwed them shut again.

Wanda carded a hand through your hair and shone softly to you.

“There we go. Come on. Come back to us baby-girl. You’re doing so well for us my love.” She coaxed, her hands tangling in your wet locks.

After a second the sound of the tap shutting off was heard and Yelena’s footsteps came down the hall. She peaked in and smiled at Natasha looking so domestic but bit back a comment.

“Your bath is ready sestra.” Yelena said with her heavy accent hiding her amusement.

“Alright.” Nat said as she shifted Wanda’s arms around you tightened.

“Can i carry her this time?” Wanda asked sounding almost scared to let you go. As if you may disappear.

“Sure baby. But you’ll need to give her to me before you get into the bath with her.” Nat said and she glanced back at the door where Yelena had disappeared from before getting out from under the sheets.

The process of bathing you was simple enough. The flush had come back to your cheeks as Wanda held you in her lap in the bath while Natasha ran and warm cloth over every inch of your skin slowly warming you up. After they had been satisfied you were warm enough, they towelled you off as you start to come around again. They dressed you in Nat’s warm hoodie and Wanda’s red track pants.

Wanda had you in her arms when the three of you re-entered the kitchen slash lounge room.

Yelena grinned. Having set up a nest of sorts on the floor with a ton of blankets and pillows. Kate had five cups of hot chocolate on the bench and a movie queued up.

You buried your face into Wanda’s chest as the five of you got settled into the nest. Blankets were thrown over the five of you and you settled in for the movie.

Wanda’s dinner was still cooking and right now nobody wanted to leave you by yourself let alone out of their sight.

So, you curled up in your girlfriend’s laps and listened to their hearts beat with the soundtrack of parks and recreation playing in the background.

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ghcstao3 · 3 months

Note

Im currently watching brave and it’s given me brain worms hehe

It’s to do with the will o’ the wisp!

Either soaps been seeing them his whole life guiding him to the task force or after a rough mission, totally lost/injured and with no way to contact anyone they guide his way back to ghost :D

Thanks for everything you write it genuinely makes my day to read all your works!!

ooh i really like this. also- apparently will o' the wisps are actually Not good in folklore so i wrote a little twist to fix that ;)

Throughout his life, Soap's nan had always liked to tell him stories about the many malevolent creatures he should hope to never have the misfortune of encountering—kelpies, redcaps, sluaghs; just about everything that existed in his homeland's folklore.

A little cruel in retrospect, Soap thinks, but for a while he'd just understood it as his nan's way of ensuring her grandson was to behave. They were myths, old tales and explanations for the unexplainable, and he can appreciate the determination to share tradition.

But now, as Soap is stranded in thick woods after an operation gone awry, blood sticky on his temple and a bullet stuck in his leg, he's not so sure they were just stories. Not as he's currently staring down an unnatural wisp of light in the darkness, hovering just a few feet away from where he'd collapsed against the thick, gnarled trunk of a tree.

Will o' the wisp, his mind supplies. Omens of death, his nan had told him, like many other creatures and spirits. They appear to the weary and lost like himself, flickers of glowing blue light almost hopeful as they guide one along a seemingly nonsensical path—but instead of leading someone to safety, they lure people to their doom.

The wisp just floats, unmoving, as Soap sits frozen. He tries his radio to no avail, and realizes with a great dread that he only has two options: attempt to find his own way back to his team, to anyone, anywhere, with the great risk of only getting more lost—or follow the wisp in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, it may actually lead him somewhere useful, no matter how bad the destination. Soap could only hope that doom is something he can fend off with a gun.

His decision is made rather easily because... he supposes it doesn't really make a difference, does it?

So he pushes himself away from the tree and toward the light—it vanishes as soon as he steps toward it, but with another step forward, another wisp appears.

Soap limps along, following the wisps. They weave him through trees and take sharp, sudden turns, disappearing and reappearing endlessly as Soap pursues the trail they leave. His head is on a swivel with every sound that isn't the crunch of branches beneath his own boots, with every flash of movement in his periphery.

He feels like he’d been walking forever by the time the forest has grown less dense and the wisps fade away for good—and that's when Soap sees it.

The large, imposing silhouette. The hulking figure cloaked in black. The glimpse of a skull in the sliver of moonlight that had managed to break through the forest's canopy.

Soap swallows a laugh. The will o' the wisps must have led him to Ghost, not realizing doom would have only been certain for Soap had he been the enemy.

Funny.

Ghost spots him and raises his gun, pauses, then after a moment lowers the barrel.

"Johnny?" Ghost grunts. "Where the fuck've you been?"

Soap shrugs a shoulder, wincing as he steps closer. "Lost my way running from the facility. Comms were dead." He flashes a crooked grin. "Worked out though, aye?"

Ghost snorts. "Aye," he echoes. "C'mon, then. Exfil's waiting. Save your explanations 'til then."

Soap gladly follows, relief nearly exalting.

But as they walk shoulder-to-shoulder, Soap can’t help but cast one last glance back at the trees from where he had emerged.

He wonders if the wisps had really made a mistake. He wonders if maybe they hadn't been done leading him, but Ghost had gotten in the way.

Questions he'll likely never find the answers for.

But regardless, now in safe hands—Soap thinks he had better refresh himself on his nan's stories as soon as he gets the chance.

He doesn't know now, whenever they might come in handy.

#ask #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #writing

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daizymax · 3 months

Text

the ways we love | lfl (m)

summary: periods of work mean periods without play between you and your longtime boyfriend. after he offers to be the muse for your latest artistic piece, you realize just how much you appreciate his never-ending support.

pairing: felix x fem reader

genre: smut

word count: 7.9k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: established relationship; profanity; mentions of alcohol consumption and (past) drunken sex; public marriage proposal; brief mention of having children; graphic sexual content; dom!felix; dirty talk; use of pet names; fingering; some spit play; oral sex (m receiving); some spanking; penetrative sex; multiple orgasms; creampie; aftercare

author’s note: rewritten for stray kids and reuploaded from my old blog. i think this will be the last of the fics from my old blog that i'll be reuploading here for the foreseeable future. also, i forgot how much fun i had writing the smut in this one. hope you enjoy!

( click here to read on AO3 instead )

---

He had started off so well. He was relaxed, comfortable, cheerful. Happy to help. This was his idea, after all.

But now… now he’s fidgety. Anxious and bored. You sympathize with that, but if he doesn’t — “Doll, can you please stop moving?” — then you’re ready to give up this entire project already.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs in that sweet, deep voice of his. “You’re just being so quiet. I thought you’d at least talk to me and let me know how it’s coming.”

You spare him a quick, direct glance before refocusing on the canvas. “I’m not going to give you a play-by-play of every mark I make, Lix. I need to concentrate. I want this to be as perfect as you are.”

Felix huffs and averts his eyes, but you know you have appeased him from the way he falls silent and relaxes his shoulders again. The new pink hue spreading across his freckled nose, ears and cheeks would be a nice touch if only you were ready to add color to the piece. For now, you store the inspirational image away for later.

You manage to finish your outline and flesh out some details around his nose before his real-live self ruins his posture — and subsequently, the lighting on his face — by shifting in his seat yet again. With a sigh, you set your utensils aside, wipe your palms on your pants and say, “How about a break? Let me get you a drink.”

Whatever his answer was going to be — agreement, argument, or otherwise — does not have time to be voiced before you are breezing by him and into the kitchen. When you return, he accepts the glass of water and obeys your command to drink up. You watch as he tips an ice cube into his mouth and licks his heart-shaped lips afterward.

He mistakes your admiration for scrutiny. “What’s wrong?”

You smooth some stray hairs near his ear and poke the bulge of ice in his cheek. “Nothing at all. I just like looking at you.”

He crunches the ice and blushes deeper. “Thanks. Don’t you need to do that from the other side of the room, though? Any idea when you might be finished?”

You shrug and fuss with the collar of his shirt until it un-creases. “You know I can’t answer that. A few hours? Days? Weeks? Whenever I’m satisfied with it. Or whenever you say, ‘Fuck you, I’m done with this.’ I told you I can always just use a photo to finish this so you don’t have to model for me.”

Felix smiles softly. “No, I don’t want you to do that. I volunteered, didn’t I? I like modeling for you. It feels fancy to do it this way, like it might turn out better if we do it like this.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Maybe it’ll be so awful you’ll leave me over how monstrous I make you look.”

“Well, at least that would make an interesting story to tell my next girlfriend.”

You giggle. “That’s true. Why don’t I just do a caricature? That way, if it looks bad, I can pretend it was on purpose.”

“No. God no,” he says firmly. “You’re too good an artist to be making pieces look silly on purpose.”

You peck his forehead. “Well, if you want this to be ‘professional,’ you have to sit still for me, doll.”

“I will. I’ll behave.” He tilts his chin to seek out your lips, and you willingly give them up. You smile into the kiss when you see him fumble to set his glass aside on the coffee table beside him without breaking contact with you. Before he can free up his hands to do goodness-knows-what with them, you slink away, back to your easel.

“You just told me you’d behave. If you’re not backing out, then I’m still working, and that means no playing,” you remind him.

He knows, but there is still a hint of disappointment in his dark brown gaze.

These abstinence periods are relatively new to your long-standing relationship. You suppose most people would think a couple purposefully denying themselves sex would tear a wedge of stress and resentment between them, but that has not been the case with you and Felix. It’s a stimulus. A game. A challenging one, to be sure, but always immensely rewarding.

So that is what you have both agreed: there is no sex while you are working on a piece. Not until the job is finished.

“How long do you think this one will take?” Felix asks again.

You plop down in your seat with a light groan and gather your utensils again. “The answer is the same, Lix. I can’t say for sure. A few hours, days, weeks?”

Your pretty muse nods and takes another sip of water as he mentally prepares himself for the oncoming drought. He does his best to relax in his seat again, and you flash him a smile before getting back to work.

---

It takes twelve days to complete the portrait, and Felix is not even sitting across from you when the last stroke falls upon the canvas. He might be offended by this once he finds out, but you couldn’t stop yourself from finishing without him. Besides, you know he will ultimately be as happy as you are that it is finally finished.

Truthfully, you might have been able to do most of the portrait simply from memory; you know his face as well as your own by now.

A sigh flutters past your lips. You take a step back to better admire (and scrutinize) your work. As you scan it over, you can’t help but smile. Not just out of pride for the job you did, but because of the striking resemblance you have been striving to achieve.

It is always difficult to instill life and warmth into mere lines and dots and smudges, but the two-dimensional rendition truly seems as though it could begin breathing at any moment, and a fresh wave of fondness for your best friend and lover as the real-life person he is comes over you. That is how you know you are satisfied, and not just in terms of your finished project.

This is something to celebrate, so after deciding how you want to do so, you pick up your phone to text Felix about an important dilemma.

[You: hey i forgot what you’re wearing today]

There is enough time to change out of your old, splattered overalls and heat up a late lunch before your phone buzzes back.

[Felix: i know it’s been a while since we’ve sexted but i think you meant to phrase that as “what are you wearing” with a smirk emoji]

You almost choke on a bite of your food as you laugh out loud.

You: dfjfdjso i’m not trying to sext you. i just need to know if you’re dressed nicely enough for a restaurant with a decent wine list tonight. we have some celebrating to do

[Felix: how come?]

[You: it’s finished]

This time your phone does not buzz. It rings.

“You finished the portrait?” Felix’s voice is hushed and a little rushed. You can tell he is on the move, probably heading somewhere away from his co-workers and customers for a more private conversation.

“It’s signed and everything,” you say cheerfully.

“That’s fantastic!” he says, not the least bit offended. “This is definitely worth celebrating. We should go to the nicest place in town and dress to the nines.”

More laughter bursts from deep in your chest. “Wha— I mean, it’s still just a portrait, Lix. I didn’t win an award or solve a murder case or anything.”

“So? I” — you hear the sound of a door closing in the background — “sat in that chair for a hundred years and went celibate waiting for that portrait to be done. No offense. This deserves a grand celebration.”

Your eyeroll can probably be heard through the receiver. “It didn’t take that long, did it? It was less than two weeks. Remember that waterfall landscape I did?”

Felix grunts at the memory. “Yeah, how can I forget? Longest month-and-a-half of my entire life.”

“It was worth it in the end, though, wasn’t it?” you say, remembering how neither of you could walk properly for at least a couple days after you finished that particular piece, which is now proudly mounted on a wall in the master bedroom. “Come on, doll. When I pick you up, we’ll go out and have that decent wine with a decent meal so the public knows we’re celebrating something, and then we’ll come home and fuck each other blind, okay?”

There was a time years ago when he might have choked and sputtered over your words, but this lewd proposal is mild, and today he doesn’t flinch.

“If that’s what Madame Artiste wants, then that’s what she’ll get,” Felix says.

He offers you a choice between two restaurants he deems himself dressed appropriately for without having to come home and change, and once you choose, he asks, “Can you just bring my navy suit jacket with you so I can make this outfit work, please? I’ll see you later. I can’t wait.”

He ends the call with the sound of a kiss.

---

The chimes on the door draw the attention of three pairs of eyes, and the sight of you stepping into the salon brings a smile to Felix’s face. Well, the mask on the lower half of his face prevents you from actually seeing his smile, but the happiness is there in his deep brown eyes.

“Hi,” he says, scanning your date-night outfit with obvious appreciation. “Be right with you.”

“Take your time,” you say, smiling at the customer sitting across from him. She smiles back politely and returns her attention to Felix, who goes back to focusing on her fingernails. He meticulously sweeps an emery board across the rounded ruby shapes to finish smoothing them out.

The third person in the salon gets up from his cozy perch in one of the pedicure chairs at the end of the row and crosses the floor.

“You look so nice, Y/N. Is it date night?”

“Yep, we’re off to dinner,” you say, accepting the man’s hug. “What’s new, Ji?”

“Oh, not much.” Jisung shrugs and takes one of your hands. He inspects your fingernails, which have unsightly matte polka dots chipped in the gloss. “Want me to redo these before you go? It won’t take that long.”

You let out a fleeting giggle. “Honestly, I don’t know why I bother getting them done in the first place when I put so much wear and tear on them. This damage only took me a week.”

“Well that’s because—” Jisung shoots your boyfriend a quick look and clearly alters the second part of his statement, “—you did them at home. You need to have them professionally done.”

His way of criticizing Felix’s work while leaving the customer in the room none the wiser is clever, and you have half a mind to applaud him for poking fun at his friend without hurting their business.

The comment is not lost on Felix. He glares over at you and Jisung, but he cannot seem to think of a subtle rebuttal, so he stews in silence.

“Ah, maybe that’s my problem,” you say, grinning.

“Give me, like, fifteen minutes and you’ll be all set,” Jisung promises.

As he’s making his offer, Felix finishes with the woman. From the edge of your vision, you see him remove his mask and lead her to the register to finish the transaction.

“Are you working Saturday morning?” you ask Jisung. “I’ll stop in then and you can do my toes, too.”

Before he can either confirm or deny the appointment, Felix interrupts by coming up behind you and waving his tip in front of your face. “Here, look what my ‘unprofessional’ work got us,” he says. “Buy yourself something nice, baby.”

You chuckle at his little joke until you flick through the bills and realize just how much worth is in them. “Wow, Lix, she was so generous!”

“She was appreciative of the amazing job I did,” he corrects with a peck to your cheek, then he takes his suit jacket from your arms to slip it on. “Sorry, Ji, we have to go. Ready, Y/N?”

“Ready,” you say.

“Sounds good,” Jisung replies at the same time. “I’ll lock up here. Enjoy your date, guys. See you Saturday, Y/N.”

---

The wine is more than decent, the food hits all the right spots, and the company is absolutely perfect.

Felix laughs happily from across the table. Strands of pale blonde hair trickle past his ears the further he tips his head back, and the apples of his cheeks are hued pink from where the rosé has gone. His smile loses none of its dazzle when the waiter interrupts to check on the two of you. The sheer warmth he radiates is boundless in the most endearing way.

When the waiter leaves, you watch Felix lean back in his chair. His eyes land on yours, and while some of the amusement fades from his face, the fondness remains. You see it there, twinkling in the inky pools of his irises; you feel it in the comfort he exudes while he is with you.

For some reason, the contentment of the moment draws something to mind. “Do you remember when we first met?” you ask out of the blue.

The corners of his eyes crinkle. “Of course I do. Remember how you tried to kiss me?”

“Oh my god, yes,” you groan. “Honestly, I still don’t remember a whole lot about that night, but I definitely remember you saying, ‘Oh, no thank you,’ right in my face.”

“Listen,” he laughs in defense, holding up a finger. “I was trying to be polite. I was trying to be a gentleman. You were a hot mess. That party had you twenty so’s-worth of shit-faced.”

“Twenty what?”

“You were so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, soooo…” he starts chanting his stupid joke.

You giggle and hang your head. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

“Hang on.” He holds that finger up higher. “So, so, SOOOO—”

“I said I get it already!”

“—so shit-faced. I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

“You did embarrass me, though! By rejecting me.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he says, dipping his head in apology, “but we both would’ve been way more embarrassed if we’d slept together that night. It would’ve been a disaster.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “What makes you think I would’ve slept with you so soon?”

“Uh. Did you or did you not sleep with my roommate that night instead?”

“Fair enough," you say, toasting your wine glass in his direction. “It’s only funny now because we’re the ones who ended up together.”

Felix smiles. “Thank goodness for that. Life is pretty incredible with you in it, sweetheart.”

His words sober you a bit, and you smile back almost shyly. “I could say the same about you, doll.”

He probably does not always love you as much and as effortlessly as he does right now. He certainly is not always his best, most charming self the way he is right now. Neither are you. But he is still worth loving when he is at his worst, and if you could have moments like these scattered all throughout the rest of your life, you feel it would be enough. His love and support and respect and admiration are more than enough.

So it comes as a soft entreaty rather than a question; out of the blue again, but also a long time coming: “Please marry me.”

This time Felix raises an eyebrow. He seems more intrigued than surprised by your impromptu proposal. Then he half-purses, half-pouts his lips in a cheeky sort of expression, like he thinks you’re bluffing but is willing to play along anyway.

That feeling of overconfidence you had that first drunken night when you leaned in to kiss him in a stranger’s kitchen comes back, as does the fear of the rejection you suffered immediately afterward. If he says ‘Oh, no thank you,’ again, you wonder if you’ll die of embarrassment right here in this restaurant, surrounded by different strangers with different alcohol on your breath.

But you know he won’t, not even as a joke, because he knows you now. He knows you well, and he sees the sincerity in your face.

“I don’t have a ring,” you go on, “but I’ll get down on one knee right here, right now. This dress won’t stop me.”

Wordlessly, Felix lifts his napkin from his lap to lay it across his plate, then leans sideways to pull something from his pocket. He casually holds it up for your inspection, and once you realize what it is, you move to kneel in front of him as promised without even questioning the coincidence. Now is not the time for questions. Now is the time to show how serious you are about this.

Felix stares down at you and pries open the tiny case to reveal the brilliance of the diamond’s sparkle. Your fingers are sure and steady when he slips the top-heavy band onto the appropriate one.

“I would be honored to marry you,” he says softly, poking back and forth at the engagement ring with the edge of his thumbnail.

By now there are dozens of eyes on the quiet scene the two of you are making, but his are the only pair you see. His smile is still there, softer and smaller now, but still brimming with the adoration he has gained over the years. It widens when you rise up just enough to press your lips to it. His hand finds the back of your head the same second yours cups his.

A round of coos and charmed applause from the crowd goes up around you, but it is all background noise to the sound of Felix’s precious, giddy laughter.

---

He is no longer laughing by the time you throw the front door shut and press him up against it. The needy kisses between here and the car have taken most of his oxygen.

“Shit,” he hisses, watching you work his belt buckle. “You get a ring on your finger and you turn feral, is that how it works?”

You growl playfully but say nothing.

“You better slow down, tiger, or we won’t last five minutes.”

“Don’t care.”

“Aren’t you gonna show me what we waited so long for this for first?”

“Later. I thought you were dying of celibacy?” you sass.

Felix clicks his tongue. The simple sound is quiet, but it shifts the air. You stop trying to get into his pants to give his dark eyes your undivided attention.

“We have all the time in the world now, don’t we?” he murmurs, as though the hard-on in his jeans is not growing as impatient as you.

You swallow. “I just want you so badly. It hurts.”

His gaze sharpens at your tone. “Does it?” He reaches up to graze a thumb along your bottom lip. “Where does it hurt, sweetheart? Here?”

The sound you let out is something between a hum and a whine. You feel so sex-starved, so desperate for any morsel of pleasure he can feed you. You try to take his thumb into your mouth, but he slips it away too fast, plucking your lip as he goes. He brushes across your breast next. The sensation is dulled by your clothing, but your nipple stands to attention nonetheless.

“What about here?” he whispers.

“Yes…” The fingers that had been so keen on removing his belt cling idly to the leather.

“Aw.” Felix pouts and bats his eyelashes at you, but his sympathy feels insincere. He’s amused by the state of you. He adores seeing you so riled up and pliant for him.

His thumb trails further, straight down your stomach, while the rest of his fingers are kept stiff and carefully away from your buzzing body.

Eventually, he reaches the crease between your thighs and presses through the layers of your dress and your panties where he estimates your clit to be. He is a little north at first but quickly readjusts his position. The soft moan you let out is a dead giveaway for when he has found it.

“And here?” He takes a step closer while he begins drawing tiny circles. “Tell me, angel, does it hurt here?”

“Yes. Yes...”

He kisses your cheek tenderly. Mercifully. His deep voice is pitched even deeper when he murmurs, “Shh. I know it does. It’s finally time for me to make it better, isn’t it.”

You cant your hips against his hand. “Felix, please...”

“Come here.”

He trades places to cage you up against the front door. You reach for him, but he draws back out of reach to shrug out of his jacket first. After he carefully pushes the sleeves of his sweater up, he uses both hands to hike your dress up along your waist. There is no rush to his movements. In fact, it’s almost graceful the way he does it, as though the actions he is about to perform could be considered decent.

When you try to remove your underwear from his way, he nudges your hands aside. “Ah-ah-ah,” he tuts. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Tell me the safe word first, Y/N.”

After all this time, he still has you say it out loud beforehand. Beneath your eager lust, you appreciate the basic act of care and commitment to playing the dominant role.

“Candle,” you answer.

He thanks you as though you’ve done him a favor and places a light kiss on the edge of your jaw. Then he hooks his thumb through the side of your panties to touch the hood of your bare clit directly. A jolt of electricity singes your nerves from his first flick. Your body noticeably quivers, and Felix smirks at his quick, effortless effect on you.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he drawls lowly.

You swallow again, drier this time. “Mm-hm.”

“Because we don’t play while you’re working anymore, do we?”

You shake your head. “Hm-mm.”

“And you’ve been working so hard, haven’t you, baby?”

You hum again, louder this time. Or maybe it’s a full-blown moan. Whatever the sound is, it becomes incessant over each passing second and each pass of his thumb. Every noise you make is met with a return sigh or hum from Felix. Every jerk of your hips is matched by a tilt of his head or other shift in his posture.

Getting fingered like this, fully dressed and up against the front door of your home, spikes a carnal, filthy pleasure into your blood. It sears through your muscles, hotter and hotter until it beads between your skin and your clothes. You want to take them off, but you dare not stop Felix for a second. You keen with lust and desperation.

“I know. I know,” he purrs, soft and sweet as a kitten. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so good...” He nuzzles the space between your jaw and your neck and inhales deeply.

You tilt your face away to give him better access, but he peels back and takes your chin in his other hand to steer you back toward him. A puff of hot breath hits your damp temple; it almost feels cool.

“Eyes on me. Good girl.” His gaze skims down your form. “You’re still shaking. All I’ve done is touch your clit and you’re that close already, huh?”

“Yes, so close,” you admit, completely unashamed. “Just keep going, please just keep going.”

Felix smiles and takes the sweat from your temple with a pair of kisses. “How can I say no when you beg me so nicely like the perfect angel you are? Hold onto me. C’mon.”

You instinctively go to clutch his biceps but think of a better idea and hook your arms around his neck instead. Felix allows you to pull him even closer and finally — finally — slips another finger into your panties. He pushes it into your opening with almost no resistance, and you gasp when his knuckles bottom out inside you. Just as quickly as the finger entered, a second one joins and curls. He keeps them buried for a moment, then drags them back out to smear the juices he collected around your swollen bud. The slipperier his work gets, the more he enjoys it.

“Your pussy is so perfect,” he breathes. “Spread your legs. I want to feel just how wet it gets for me.”

You obediently open your legs wider, and he delves back in immediately, fast enough that his palm audibly claps against your slick lips, hard enough to send your head tipping backward to thump against the door. When his thumb drops back to your clit and nudges under the hood this time, you know it won’t be long until you’re unraveled.

“Ohhh my god,” you groan. More sweat builds on your forehead, on your chest, under your arms, along the backs of your knees. You grow lightheaded from the static in your veins from being fucked open by Felix’s talented, diligent fingers.

“That’s it,” he pants. You’re not sure when he became so breathless. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let go. Come for me. Come for me. Come.”

Another dozen strokes and you do as you’re told with a pinched yelp. Felix kisses your throat as he works you up your high and eases you back down, undulating his wrist and babbling encouragements into your sticky skin.

“That’s it, squeeze my fingers, just like that. Squeeze ‘em tight. Tight. There you go. That’s my good girl. So gorgeous when you come. So fucking perfect. Hey.”

The hand not still knuckle-deep in your pussy cups your cheek and pulls you in. He swallows the whines and the airless, nonsensical words of thanks you huff between kisses.

Once your breathing has had time to settle, he gingerly slips his fingers from your sensitive, throbbing walls. He doesn’t even look at those fingers as he brings them to his tongue. In fact, he closes his eyes altogether as he laps the tips and moans indulgently, as though this is the first time he has ever tasted you.

When he is done cleaning the mess you made on him, he looks you in the eye and says, “Now that we’ve rubbed out that easy one, I’m open to suggestions on what to do next.”

“Let me return the favor?” You inflect it as a question.

Felix smirks. “It wasn’t a favor, sweetheart, it was a pleasure. But since you’re asking so nicely again… c’mere.”

He tugs you by the hands and begins walking backward, slipping out of his shoes as he goes, and you follow his lead. You assume he is bringing you to the bedroom, but he stops when his feet hit the carpet in the living room and glances over his shoulder. It must be the chair he was looking for because he then moves toward it with a sense of purpose, leaving you a few paces behind.

“Strip,” he orders. His voice is even and his expression is calm as he sits and crosses an ankle over his opposite knee.

You move to obey without hesitation, twisting your arm behind your back to yank down the zipper on your dress. Felix keeps his eyes fixed on your face as you peel the gown away from your shoulders. Gravity takes the fabric to your waist, and you shove it down the rest of the way to step out of it completely. Next, you snap one of your bra straps with an eyebrow cocked in question.

Felix nods. “Mhm. Keep going ‘til you’re in nothing but that ring.”

You had nearly forgotten about it. You lift your hand to look at it again, but a sudden noise startles you. It sounds like more of a crack than a snap from the way it ricochets off the walls of your home, though you know a snap is exactly what it was by the pose of Felix’s fingers in the air.

“Don’t get distracted now,” he says, deep voice rumbling. He drops his hand back to his lap. “You’re being so good. Finish taking off your clothes, then come here.”

With his instructions, you unhook your bra and let it drop to the floor. His eyes dip to your naked chest, but his expression is more clinical than enticed.

You shove your thumbs into the band of your panties and stall there until you get the attention you want. It takes Felix a few seconds to realize you’re not moving and look back to your face. When he meets your eyes, he mouths the word ‘off,’ leaving his teeth planted in his bottom lip for an extended moment. Even when he is silent, you feel the authority radiating from him. You shiver when the air hits your slick, heated center.

Felix uncrosses his legs, and you finally glean a proper peek at your effect on him. The erection in his pants looks past the point of painful, but his demeanor is still relaxed as he invites you to stand in front of him by casually tossing a throw pillow at his feet. Once your toes brush against it, he reaches for your hands and sweeps his lips across your knuckles, quick and affectionate. Then his hands are on your waist, and near your ribs, and around the curves of your ass, and across your thighs. He soothes them up and down your skin, imprinting patches of heat everywhere he roams.

“There’s my gorgeous girl.” He leans forward and plants an open-mouthed kiss on your lower stomach, then peers up through his eyelashes at you and directs, “On your knees for me, gorgeous.”

Another look at his covered crotch and you do as you’re bid. When your knees touch down on the pillow, Felix shifts to whip his belt out of its loops at last. By the time it clanks to the floor, you’re already helping him with the button and the zipper. He lets you tug his pants down to and away from his ankles. His socks go next, and he takes care of his sweater and undershirt himself. His underwear is last but gone in a flash and then there he sits, stripped bare with his toned abdominals twitching and his cock standing flushed and rigid just for you. He is so goddamn beautiful.

“Is this what you want?” He leans back and takes his rosy length in a loose fist. “Is this what you’ve been being so good and working so hard for?”

You swallow and pretend it’s his precum sliding down your throat. “Yes.”

“What’s that, baby?” He strokes upward.

“Yes.”

“What do you say?” He strokes downward. Back up again. Your eyes may as well be stringed puppets with the way they follow helplessly.

“I said yes,” you repeat again.

And he patiently repeats: “No, what do you say? Look at me.”

Once you meet his lust-glazed stare, you don’t have to wrack your brain for the answer he’s looking for.

“Please,” you say, “let me suck your cock. I want it so badly. You deserve to feel good after waiting so long.”

Felix tucks his chin down, puckers his lips, and releases a ball of spit onto the head of his cock. Another soon follows, racing alongside the first, joining the trail of wetness that already leaked from the slit.

You shuffle closer between his knees and take him in your hand. He lets go of himself, but not before brushing his fingertips along the back of your hand. The gesture is deliberate, not coincidental, and you smile up at him. He smiles back, more with his eyes than his mouth. His mouth is used to give commands such as, “Put it in your mouth, sweetheart,” before leaning back comfortably. Even with his pulsing erection at your mercy, he is a marvel of beauty and dominance.

You give him a few strokes to spread the wetness around and simply enjoy the slick glide, then bend to take in his wet tip. He tastes delicious. Good enough for you to moan on contact, good enough for you to want to fill your entire mouth with his warm heaviness. He is tangy from his natural body and sweet from the taste of wine lingering in his spit. You sink down further, letting your tongue follow the path of a prominent vein.

“Open wide. That’s it,” he says. His voice is steady but barely there. The relief of finally being touched where he wants it most runs a succinct shiver through his legs, but otherwise he remains controlled, even when you tighten your lips to hollow your cheeks. “There you go. So good for me. So good at sucking my dick.”

His praise leaves you hungry for more, so you slather your tongue down and around his balls to hear the way his sighs and quiet pants start to crack his composure. He shifts his hips to ensure you can reach every sensitive part of him, and his cock feels just a bit stiffer when you try to swallow it down your throat.

“Hah,” he gasps. “Oh, fuck, baby, that’s it.”

On the armrest of the chair, his fist clenches tight enough to pop a knuckle. He soon releases it, however, and moves his hand toward you. You half-expect him to hold you in place because you know how much he enjoys being in your throat, but instead, he eases you off of him and uses his loose grip on the top of your head to roll it back in a slow, gentle circle along your neck and around your shoulders. A strand of spit — there is no way to tell whether it is yours or his — still bridges your lips to his swollen cock. You reach out to break it with your tongue, curling it devilishly. Felix watches with dark, hooded eyes.

“Dirty girl.” He wipes away the dribble on your chin with his thumb. “Where do you want it?”

You don’t quite understand his question. “Hm?”

Once again, he takes your hands in his, this time to help you up off the floor and onto his lap where he can sling your arms around his neck. The only conceivable reason for him to cut a blowjob so short is that he is already too close to coming. You won’t call him out on it, but you’re thrilled to know it’s true.

“I asked you where you want it. Where do you want me to fuck you?” His vulgar inquiry is warm honey on your tongue. “You want me to take you up against the wall? Fuck you so good and so hard that you can’t fucking walk in the morning? Hm?” His hum vibrates your lips with the sweetest melody. “Do you want me to take you in our bed, under the sheets, nice and slow, until you can’t remember your own name?” His lips are a soft, decadent treat you sink your teeth into. “Or do you want me to take you in this chair, right here where I sat while you were across the room working for hours and hours instead of bouncing on my dick?” His perfume is a laced drug that could leave you high in bliss for hours.

“Yes,” you breathe into his mouth. You pull at his lips, molding and folding them with yours while you feel up every inch of his skin you can reach — his jaw, his back, his arms, his chest, his stomach.

Felix relinquishes a shred of his control with a groan as he ravishes your lips right back. His own hands crawl along your shoulder blades, your spine, your ass. Eventually, he clears his head well enough to say, “That’s not an answer, sweetheart. You need to tell me right now where you want to fuck, or I’m choosing for you.”

“Here. Chair. Now,” you rasp brokenly.

He hoists you up right away, perching your ass halfway onto one of his forearms and using his other hand to drag his swollen, spongy cockhead through your folds until he finds your entrance. The tip slips inside with a stretch but little resistance, as does the rest of him until your lap and his are pressed flush against one another’s.

You rock your hips slowly to welcome the intrusion and ensure he is as deep and you are as full as possible, and his breath hitches from the movement. He lowers his eyes in a straight path from your eyes to your nose to your chin. His lips part as though he is going to say something, but after a couple seconds, he leans forward to give you another searing kiss instead, bracing a hand against your spine to keep you from tipping backward from the sudden motion.

Whatever he was going to say about how good it feels to be sunk in your wet heat again is conveyed through his tongue on yours and the way he clutches your bare skin.

Just when you think perhaps all his words have dried up, Felix sucks his mouth off yours, lays a slap across your ass, and grunts in deep bass: “Bounce for me, baby.”

You would love nothing more than to do just that, so you build up a steady pace as quick as you can. He is just thick enough to rub your walls and make them burn in the best way imaginable. The smacks that come from your pelvis and thighs meeting his over and over are lewd and wet and so fucking good. So fucking good.

You shut your eyes and hang your head back. “Oh my fucking god…”

Felix keeps an arm hooked around your moving waist while he paws at you from the front. He splays his free hand across your throat, applying just enough pressure to get a feel for your erratic pulse, then slips down your collarbone, down your chest to squeeze one of your tits.

“That’s it, baby. This is what we’ve been missing, isn’t it?” He lifts your breast and leans forward to wrap his lips around the perked nipple. The sensation makes you involuntarily clench around him, and he whimpers from the tightness. “Fuck, I’ve missed this so much.”

His admission spurs you to speed up. You try to roll your hips at the bottom of every drop, but your movements are getting sloppier the higher your pleasure climbs. It doesn’t seem to matter to Felix, though. His ragged breathing is a telltale sign of how good it feels to have your soaked pussy dragging up and down his cock. He tries to find your staggered rhythm in order to buck upward in time with your drops and help drive himself into your sweetest spot, but although both of you are hyper-concentrated on reaching your peaks, the coordination is not quite there.

“Sweetheart, you’re falling apart on my dick,” he moans with the little breath he has. “Jesus, you’re squeezing me so goddamn tight. You’ve already come once and now you’re about to soak my whole fucking lap, aren’t you?”

“Lix, I-I’m s-s-so-” you trill mindlessly.

“So close, I know.” He gives the fleshiest part of your ass another solid slap, then digs his fingers in to help you rock back and forth against him. “Do it. Come again on my fucking cock, baby. We’ve earned it.”

You work to get all the friction the ridges of his raw cock can give you, but the edge you’re chasing is still on the horizon, just a bit too far out of reach. “Felix, I can’t…”

“I’ll get you there,” he swears. “Let’s just—”

In no time, you’re on your back on the floor and Felix is plunging his steely length back between your drenched folds. Your legs automatically anchor themselves around his hips to steady yourself against the jarring pace he sets. The aftermath of the rough carpet on your bare skin is a worry for a later. Right now, you whine at him to go faster, go harder, just don’t fucking stop, whatever he does.

Felix leans close and takes one of your knees to push it back toward your chest so he can fuck into you deeper. His breath is hot and shaky and somewhere in the vicinity of your earlobe as he whispers, “Fuck, you’ve gotta come now, angel. Please.”

He readjusts his weight and his grip on you, pushes deep just a few more times, and you’re finally coming again, crying out and clenching around him so tight it nearly hurts from how hard he is inside you. He fucks you through your entire high, never stopping the solid snap-snap-snap of his slim hips.

“God, fuck, I’m right fucking there,” he huffs and pants. Sweat drips from his brow onto your cheek. “Where do you want it? Where should I come?”

“In me, come in me,” you beg, reaching down to squeeze his tight ass and urge him even deeper into your soaked depths.

Felix whines something wordlessly lyrical in a high alto as his release fills you with a sticky warmth. He fucks his cum into you with rough, staggered thrusts, his pace slowing but never completely stopping. Your legs begin to ache as he continues gingerly pumping himself. You assume his spent cock must hurt from the rising sensitivity following his orgasm, but he is not quite finished.

“Holy shit,” he whimpers. “Your pussy’s so fucking tight, I think I could come again.”

Your walls clench around him because you know he is serious. “Do it, baby,” you pant hard. “Use my pussy to come again. I want it all.”

“Yes, yes, yes. Just a little more, I’m gonna— fuck!”

He finds a second shaky high and buries his fingers in your hips deep enough that the bruises may last until your wedding day. The force with which he pulses a final spurt of cum toward your cervix is something you’re certain to remember for a long time as well.

“Holy shit,” Felix sighs again, blissful and fucked out. The two of you moan together when he slips out of you, still half hard. “Come here, angel.”

He slumps to the side and gathers you in his arms to face him. You tuck your forehead between his jaw and his shoulder, and he traces his fingertips along your shoulder blades where the skin is a little irritated from its row with the carpet. You’re not worried about the sting, but your nerves wince under his touch anyway, and he apologizes immediately.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have—”

“You’re not an idiot,” you giggle tiredly. “We’ve had worse rug burn before. Much worse.”

“I know, which means I know better than to have sex on the carpet.” He kisses your forehead and sweeps a thumb across your cheek. “I shouldn’t have gotten so caught up, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you insist. “Being fucked into the carpet never felt so good.”

Felix laughs quietly, deeply. “It was definitely worth the wait. I haven’t come twice in a row like that in a while.” His sigh is exhausted but pleased; his hug is weak but loving.

After a moment of recovery, he helps you stand and urges you to use the bathroom and change into something comfortable, and you agree on the condition he does the same.

Before you dress, he peppers sweet kisses along your lightly scraped skin and helps you apply lotion over it. He also insists that you drink at least half a glass of water to rehydrate yourself before you both return to the living room so you can finally show him what the two of you have been celebrating in the first place. He massages the back of your neck soothingly as you walk side by side.

“Alright, now I’m actually really proud of this, but you still need to be honest with me, okay?” you preface. Without waiting for him to respond, you whip the sheet covering the easel away with a flourish.

The moment it is revealed, Felix eyes dart over the portrait in patternless directions. You want to see inside that pretty head of his to know every thought going through his mind while he examines your depiction of him, but you can’t, so you keep your eyes trained on his pensive face and wait quietly for him to share whatever feedback he chooses.

“Y/N,” he eventually begins. You can’t tell if the hush in his tone is because he is awed or appalled.

“Yes?”

Felix turns to look you in the eye. “How do you keep outdoing yourself?”

A note of laughter pops past your lips, and the nervousness in it surprises you. “Well, you know what they say about practice. Does that mean you like it?”

“Are you kid— I love it! I don’t even know where to begin! The detail, Y/N! It’s so—” He faces his two-dimensional self again and waves his hand through the air in front of the canvas in a gesture you have no idea how to interpret. Then he extends a single finger toward the bottom edge of the canvas. “Like right here. The shadowing is so good. And the way you did the lighting here...” He lifts his finger higher to point at his painted cheekbones. “You did my freckles so well, I wouldn’t even be surprised if you captured literally every single one of them. It’s, like, scary good. And I don’t know if this is technically a critique towards the realism, but I don’t think my hair has ever actually looked this good in real life.”

You laugh louder, more happily. “I do think I did a pretty good job, but your real life self is way better than this, doll. Trust me.” You tuck a lock of hair behind his ear, and he brings his face back around to look at you again.

“I don’t even know what else to say without sounding dumb about it,” he tells you. It is not often he sounds bashful around you anymore, but he does now. “I’ll have to keep processing it. But in my unprofessional opinion, to my untrained, non-artistic eye, I’d say this is certifiably amazing work, sweetheart.”

You touch his cheek. “As long as you don’t feel like leaving me over it, you don’t have to say anything else.”

Felix takes your other hand and kisses the center of your palm, then each of your fingertips separately, then the ring between your knuckles.

Tomorrow, you’ll ask him for the story of how he happened to have it in his pocket tonight. Saturday, when Jisung sees it on your finger, you’ll ask his advice on how you should do your nails for the wedding (though you’ll probably end up having them done by your groom anyway). Next week, you’ll ask Felix what time of year he has in mind for the ceremony, or if he even wants to make a big pageantry of it. The week after that, you’ll either start looking into wedding venues or making an appointment with City Hall.

And years from now, when your children ask you about the portrait you painted of their father, you’ll tell them you did it because he was always your biggest supporter, and you’ll be reminded just how in love the two of you were tonight.

---

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#felix smut #lee felix smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #the ways we love #daizymax

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mechaknight-98 · 3 months

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Party Time (NSFW) Ft: Jeewon

Author note: to have a constant and cleaner master list I reposted this to make the list more consistent in naming conventions since Tumblrr wouldn't let me edit the title.

The adventuring Party was traveling through the woods they were looking for a group of townsfolk who had disappeared a few days ago. You the paladin were unsure of this quest as it smelled fishy as several monsters roamed these woods. However, you relented because your party was low on cash after bailing out the well-intentioned but so very dumb rogue who drew the ire of one of the king's knights. It was winter and night was closing in. Having been exposed to the horrors of the night. so you were insistent on getting back to town safely, but your fearless leader; the human wizard named Alan pushed on. That was one thing you did hate about humans was how stubborn they could be. before you could make a real fuss through the other human in the party (She was also the one that convinced you to join) the cleric named Jeewon assured you that things would go right.

"Yeah you Aasimars always worry too much, and besides if anything happens. We have you and good ole Jeewon to protect us." The astral elf Bard Nayeon says with a smile

"You guys know how I feel about Spooky shit though, and this forest reeks of spooky shit." You say to Nayeon annoyed

There was a rustling of the wind and your party’s druid; an Iceborne named Irene veers around to you all and inquires to the party "Did you guys hear that? it sounded like a sick animal?" Seulgi the siren aberrant mind Sorceror of your party and often the kindest but often the least wise and clumsiest member of our party ran to the noise. we followed close behind. well, not you. moving in the full plate was unsurprisingly difficult. when you close in you take a moment to catch your breath when the cleric pushes you down. confused you look at her but before you can say anything she shushes you. She points ahead where you see 4 pale lengthy bodies surrounding a bear. you hear them crunch into the body as you watch You internally groan. you unsheathe your sword and stand low. you begin two silent entrapment spells to hold the beast when you hear

"Ignis Orbem Ventus" you groan as you see a fireball shoot towards the beasts. you groan externally because your fearless leader made a dumb move. you look to Jeewon and say

"Regroup with Allan and the rest of the party." Jeewon nods at your command and you draw the attention of the 4 pale beasts towards you. you have them chase you through the woods a fair distance but eventually, they encircle you. Their hollow white soulless eyes bore into you and their bodies and bones begin to creak and crack as they change

the first one speaks in a voice that's half a voice you recognize and half a wild animal, "How could you abandon us Indo?" you watch as its face shifts to an old friend of yours.

"We trusted you and you abandoned us." another of the beings says shifting into another one of your friends.

"You were our leader, the visionary. Kazuo's legacy Indo and you threw it all away for nothing." the third said shifting. As these beings spoke you watched them as their eyes and expressions grew more haggard and hungry.

"You abandoned us, and look what we became!" the fourth yelled at you. you dodge the first lunge at you and can fend off the other three while striking. but it's a losing battle. that is until you hear a familiar.

"I guarantee I got ya." and the beastly creatures are restrained. you look up to your friends and race towards them while the beast tries to break their bonds. you all manage to get away safely with barely any scrapes,

as you walk back to town. the Irene asks. "Hey, Atyriox what were those things?"

You reach into your bag of various things you are surprised to feel a sharp pain. when you look down, you see a claw taking out a piece of your right side. you look up and see the 4 beasts smiling and laughing, in a mixture of voices you recognize and beastial ones. You try to hold in your rage, but on the verge of death, it consumes you.

"An extraneous existence. Encroaching on humanity," you scream as the rage takes over. your bones creak and lengthen. Your longsword changes to the great axe as a familiar wave of ancient energy envelops you.

you face the four pale beings, now taller than them. you swing your axe into the first and it embeds itself in the skull of it.

“There's no way out! Game over you are done for!" you yell as you tear the axe blade from the beast's skull and throw it into the other nearest one. the next one embeds its claws into your other side, and in response, you stomp its arm your steps leave a trail of blackened blood in its wake. you turn to the last one and yell "You wanted to eat me huh." it looks at you in terror and tries to run away you grab it and punch through its teeth to rip out its tongue. As it bleeds out you grab your axe as your rage subsides. You hear your friends approach and try to cover up the damage but it's too late when Jeewon sees the nightmarish scene. she turns to you and sees your blood.

"Shit I'm sorry Atyriox. shit, I'm so sorry. We shouldn't have left you." she repeats. you reassure her as she goes to heal you she begins putting out her magic but when the arcane energies begin to work despite her not having the components she turns to your eyes full of terror as her magic mends your flesh.

as the rest of your friends come down to the crater of catastrophe you made Nayeon looks at the carnage then you and says, "Remind me not to make you made. We heard your screams of war miles away. you nod as you turn to Jeewon who is still visibly shaken. You all decide to return to town for safety

"Fuck” Jeewon the cleric said as she walked into the inn they were staying in and you smiled at her adorable walk. She then turns to you and says “Okay Paladin bedroom now. I believe I am owed a massage and an explanation,” You nod before following her up to the bedroom where you both bath together before leaving the lobby of the inn the druid and fighter both look at you and laugh.

"Ooh someone's in trouble." The wizard said

"Shut up Alan." You say to the wizard annoyed that his plan almost got you all killed

the bard looks at Jeewon and you overhear her whisper to Jeewon, "Go easy on him. he seems shaken." Jeewon nods as the two of you head to the bathhouse. Once you arrive The cleric is insistent on not letting you out of her sight. So this led to the two of you sharing a bath. As a cleric of Iyaza the doting and alluring. Jeewon had unrivaled comfort and confidence in her body which was pushed even further by the comfort she felt being around you.

“Okay so tell me everything!” Jeewon demanded. You hesitate not because of your story but because you became distracted by Jeewon’s naked and stellar body. Your mind was brought back to tales you'd hear your older brothers say about the followers of Iyaza the goddess of beauty being the most beautiful and attractive followers of all the 7 favored ones, and Jeewon certainly fit the bill. Flawless skin and impeccable curves as if she was crafted by Iyaza herself, but what kept your attention was not her marvelous body but her adorable smile and generous heart. She loved to help despite being quite the loner type. She was always willing and first to do so. it was incredibly admirable and you found yourself enamored. So enamored that you found yourself leaning in closer and closer until your lips met. In the bathhouse. The kiss you shared was chaste. When you break however filled with the haze of desire but also worry the air shifts heavily she stares at you and her stare is soft not the glare of earlier but a somber gaze.

“Please Atyriox (pronounced Uh-tyr-E-ox) don't shut me out.” Jeewon pleads, her eyes stare into yours and you feel your heart soften even more toward the girl, “what happened out there?” she asks. She leans in closer to you. Her folds rub against your manhood which causes an involuntary groan to escape your lips. using this to her advantage Jeewon begins to unwrap the bandages on your forearms. Before you can stop her she succeeds in her task and removes the bandages. She gasps when she sees the scars.

"Jeewon I... I...I am sorry." you say as your War Beast markings are presented. Jeewon was silent for a moment, then another. It began to be worrying until she said, " Explain."

"Before beginning my studies and dedication to my oath of Restoration, I was a child soldier of The Old Warlord Kazuo. 6 others and I were trained from childhood to keep his kingdom safe. we were stripped from our families and our identities and remade. we were molded in his ideals of what warriors should be like." You explain. Jeewon's glare softens again before asking "So why the scars."

"Our new identities were given to replace our new ones. So we were each given a new name after we earned it. I was given Atyriox after the Endurance beast Alpha Rex.

"Okay Why?"

"To whom much is favored is expected. My warriors will transcend everything that binds them including their fucking mortality." Kazuo would always say and so we became what he wanted. Beast of war, and as our final test, and Kazuo's long list of affronts to the gods. he made us each fight an Apex Beast. Each one chosen was meant to be the opposite of our capabilities, and so I was "granted" the opportunity to face the Apex Beast of Endurance. (you hesitate as the pain of remembering begins to swell.) I was told it was alone and that it was a solitary creature that was hurting the townsfolk. I was told no one would be hurt. I was told that nothing bad would happen, but actions speak louder than words I guess," you finish as tears flood your eyes. Jeewon intimates what you mean and begins to hug you as the quiet sobs become too much to bear. you two stay in the bath until the water has long grown cold. After you two get out of the bathhouse and back into the bedroom Jeewon asks

"So how did you get away from Kazuo."

"Another Warlord Named Shen Long came whose warriors rivaled ours, and I saw an opportunity. I faked my death and escaped into the night away from all of that Eventually I found myself at the monastery and not long after you all found me." You explain

"Fuck! That's intense." Jeewon exclaimed

"Can I ask a favor Jeewon?" you bring up as the two of you enter the bed.

"What is it Atyriox?" Jeewon Questions

"Can you not tell the others about this?" You say

"Well, why not?" Jeewon asks

"Our fighter Jason is from the neighboring country to mine, and he would have problems with my history," you tell her

"Oh okay then. I will keep you until you're ready to speak then." Jeewon affirms as she stands up and paces.

"Thanks!” you exclaim while giving a thumbs up. Jeewon smiles then she walks over to your side of the bed, “Okay. I don't want the paladin Atyriox anymore now I need my lover Ayriox to release some tension. You nod as you understood what she meant by this.

Jeewon cups your face and the tension from earlier returns her eyes fill with desire, but also deep administration and appreciation for you as you watch as her pupils dilate into hearts. You kiss again. It begins chaste but the feeling quickly ferments into lust as her tongue pokes its way into your mouth. Unversed in these affairs you let her take charge. Jeewon breaks the kiss with heavy breath and says “Take off your clothes.”

as the both of you strip you say to Jeewon “By the gods you alluring.” Jeewon smiles as she takes your hands and giggles as they shake in hers. She puts them up to her robust posterior and says, “Gosh you're so cute, but don't be nervous dear it's just me.” her voice as always soothes your belligerent spirit somehow the beast that rages inside but with her its less rage and more freedom it surges through you and you arrive at an even greater serenity then during your meditations. she gently pushes your head down to her pussy and something awakens in you. It was subtle at first and the overwhelming desire was to not only be with Jeewon but also protect her. You look up to her and this wave of lusted calm bathes you and you smile at her. She smiles back as your body moves on instinct to her pussy. You lap up near her clit and she bucks and moans with such an intense ferocity

“Oh gods Atyriox right there,” she says in between moans. She looks down as you continue your ministrations on her and notices your back is glowing. Intrigued but a little preoccupied at the moment Jeewon notes this for later as you continue your care of her womanhood, until her body gives out on her and into her release. She squirts all over your face. She tastes sweet to you almost too sweet. As you wipe your face she brings you up to hers. “Damn I taste good.” she coos as she kisses you.

You smile at your paramore and in a moment of alacrity, you say, “In all the planes I could never hope to meet a star as bright as you. Your melody resonates with the light itself, and when we part my shadows only grow to be extinguished by you when we meet again.”

Jeewon smiles and says, “God I love you.”

“I love you two.” you reaffirmed before diving into another kiss. You both tumble to the bed as your kiss grows more desperate more hungered.

Jeewon smiles and says, “God I love you.”

“I love you two.” you reaffirmed before diving into another kiss. You both tumble to the bed as your kiss grows more desperate more hungered.

“Fuck me till I can't walk then use your hands of the faithful so we can fuck again.” Jeewon’s eyes stare into yours clouded by lust but you are in a similar state as you bend her over the bed. Your shaft grinds against her slit. “Ahh, you've teased me enough fuck me.” the ferocity from earlier blends your mind and you oblige Jeewon. She screams “Oh gods! Oh yes!” you begin thrusting her womanhood as always welcomes you you grab her breast as their soft and perky nature draws the wandering of your hands. “Oh god yes! Massage my breasts.” Jeewon yells as you thrust and massage. She is not far from her second orgasm of the night. Her breasts have always been sensitive ever since the first time you “massaged her” so you begin to slow down and focus on plunging deep into her and pulling out slowly. Jeewon’s body responds favorably.

You probably would have continued that pace all night but the ferocity inside had other plans, you gave yourself away to it and began pounding harder and faster. The intensity of your coupling shook the bed and one particularly hard thrust sent Jeewon over the edge, but your spirit overrode your rational mind and you kept fucking her. Jeewon loved it though when you were rough with her because it meant after you would be so caring and accommodating to her. So despite her muffled screams, you kept pounding your release imminent. Jeewon lifted herself to kiss you again and said “Let it all out Atyriox. Give me all of you.” her words sent you into a freefall as you came in your fancier. She smiled as came having reached her third release of the night. She then began kissing you again before pulling you to the bed. You lay there for a while still connected. Jeewon grabs your hand

“Why did Kazuo choose you?” Jeewon asks

“I was the experiment. All the others volunteered or were bred to be his war beasts. When he took me my dad convinced me this would be the path to stability and success but in reality, it ended up just being chaos, torment, and so much resentment toward everything else.” you elaborate. Jeewon nods as she rests her hand on yours. You both fall asleep. Your dreams are peaceful, but you are jolted awake when you feel an intense but familiar pressure on your cock. You look down to see Jeewon’s hollowed cheeks and puckered lips,

"you looked so stressed while you slept so I figured I relieve the tension," Jeewon says with a smile before a particular gag. you groan and she smiles as she comes up for air. "I love the way your body reacts to my touch so honest and adorable. they way your breath hitches when I do this." Jeewon says with a malicious smile as she grabs your balls, and you stop breathing for a moment, "Or when I go deep on you and you groan." she says as she takes you deep again. "But my favorite has to be when your close and you close your eyes when you're about to cum." Jeewon coos as she coaxes another orgasm out of you. She swallows and keeps sucking until you start quivering. She gets up and smiles. "No more secrets okay," she says playfully, as you groan. she smiles and says "I'll take that as a yes."

The next day breakfast in bed is delivered but you and Jeewon have other plans for the morning as you fill your morning filling her. she's all smiles. As you ram into her from behind you watch as her breasts and ass jiggle hypnotically as you thrust in and out of her. Jeewon looks at you with a lusted-over smile. "Oh, Iyaza thank you for bringing me such a kind sweet, and gentle man who fucks me so well," Jeewon says smiling.

You look at her filled with unbridled lust and affection before saying “cum with me Jeewon.”

Jeewon responds “Yes my darling” as you both tumble into bliss together. You both fall into the bed again and cuddle together before your stomach growls Jeewon turns to you and says, “Come on let’s get some breakfast.”

All you can think about is how much you love this girl

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