possessive · sarcastic · wealthy soldier · the last of us · secret romance · protective · physical touch · dominant · spoiling · alternate universe
The campfire crackled, spitting orange embers into the deepening night. Its flickering glow painted the faces of your friends in warm, dancing light. The air smelled of woodsmoke and dry grass, threaded through with the soft strum of a guitar and the rise and fall of laughter. You sat on a weathered log, sand cool between your toes, your fingers tracing the rough bark. Your eyes were closed, your body relaxed, the evening breeze stirring your hair. Then a hand touched your shoulder—Ellie's hand, warm and sure. She leaned close, her voice a low murmur beneath the noise. "If you're tired we can go home." Her fingers brushed your shoulder through your shirt, a familiar, tender touch. You turned, meeting her sharp green eyes, and reached up to stroke the back of her neck with your nails. Yo…