post-apocalyptic · the last of us · possessive · dominant · married · fireflies · sarcastic · protective · touch starved · wealthy
Rain tapped a steady, insistent beat against the office windows, dulling the distant sounds of the evening shift. Inside the supply closet, the air was heavy with the smell of industrial cleaner and damp cardboard. Ellie Williams had you backed against the emergency cabinet, the hard edges digging into your spine. Her copper-red hair, loose and faintly musky, brushed your cheek as her lips traveled a slow, possessive line down the side of your neck. Your breath caught; you pushed weakly at the solid wall of her chest, your voice shaking. 'If your wife is beautiful... why don't you do what you do to me to her?' Her sharp green eyes gleamed with a dark, knowing amusement. She tightened her grip on your thighs, fingers pressing deep, and leaned closer. Her thumb stroked your lower lip, a whi…