#BEST STOP STARTIN

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

pausing your regularly scheduled drama to announce that camp tensions are finally relaxing ~

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

Maybe I just miss havin someone else to blame

[bookshelf-dust]

gentle fingers, gentler boy

carmen berzatto x fem!hairdresser!reader

gif by @hotch-girl

word count: 3,589

warnings: swearing, joking mentions of arson, one donna mention, i don’t think anything else??

synopsis: carmy needs a haircut—desperately. or so natalie tells him. she sends him to you, and it’s safe to say carmy never would’ve expected a trim would turn into the best date he’s ever had in his life.

a/n: hello, my loves! don’t even ask my why this fic has taken me so long to write because i couldn’t tell you. but i do imagine it has something to do with the fact that i have the attention span of a goldfish these days. anyhow, i wrote this as a kind of predecessor to this fic, because something about carmy and his hairdresser gf is so special to me. let me know what you think!! happy reading <33

————

“You really do need a haircut, Bear.”

Sugar leans up against the office door frame. Her younger brother is hunched over the desk, an Igor incarnate, flipping through a pile of papers Cicero left for him. 

Richie’s voice booms throughout the kitchen. “I been tellin’ him that, Sug! It needs a wash, too. He’s startin’ to look like Jack…Jack…” He snaps his fingers, searching for a name. “The psycho asshole from The Shining!”

“Jack Torrence,” Marcus chirps.

“Jack Torrence!” Richie claps, making Sugar roll her eyes. She moves closer to Carmen, leaning against the corner of the desk. She crosses her arms. 

“I told you, Carm, you can go see my girl. She’s never done me wrong.” 

That small, gentle smile she has grows on her lips. Natalie gently pushes her brother’s shoulder. “And hey, she stopped me from getting bangs again a few weeks ago.”

Richie’s hands fly upward, pressing together in a prayer pose. “Thank fuck. Bangs were never your look, babe.”

“Shut up, Richie!” Sugar and Carmen’s voices ring out simultaneously, as if they’d rehearsed for this very moment of synchronization.

Carmy’s clogs drag against the tile floor as he braces his palms against the desktop and pushes himself backwards. He scrubs his face with his hands, leaving it tinged red when he finally relents.

He looks up at his sister, a firm wrinkle formed between her brows. Carmen huffs.

“What did you say her name was?” Carmy asks, eyes darting to the clock, searching for the time only to realize no one ever fixed the damn thing. “Hey, Richie! Can you get some fuckin’ batteries in here?”

Sugar’s eyes squeeze shut at the volume Carm’s voice has just reached. But nevertheless, she pinches her nose and says your name. 

“She’s like, fifteen minutes down the road. She went to school for it, she respects shy people, and I promise–she’s not gonna cut your ear off.”

Richie rounds the corner at that exact moment, a pile of double A’s shoved in his pocket. He pulls the analog clock off the wall and pries open the back panel. “Oh, you mean like that time Mikey snipped the tip of his ear clean–”

“Oh my god, enough, Richard!” Sugar’s hands fly around in front of her face. Unfortunately it only encourages Richie further, laughing to himself as he snaps four batteries into place. He’s still laughing—clapping his hands together because he’s so tickled—when he walks back toward the front of the house. 

Carmen’s fist covers his mouth. He’s tempted to laugh himself, but he at least knows better by now. Natalie sighs loud enough for the people across the street to hear. 

“Look, Carm. I’ll even make the appointment for you if that would help, but it’s gotta happen. You look like shit.”

Carmy snorts, standing up from the wonky office chair. “Thanks, Nat.”

Sugar’s phone is already in her hand. 

“So that’s a yes? What time would be best? Actually, I’ll just tell you when you’re going. Settled.”

————

“You getting off, Leigh?”

Your coworker ties her hair up in an artfully messy bun. “Yeah, babe. I took a half day because it’s date night tonight.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, shimmying her way across the floor so she can plant a sweet kiss on your cheek.

“Your mom got the kids?” You ask, laughing to yourself as you rinse the leftover conditioner from your sink. 

Leigh claps her hands. “All weekend, girl!” 

You toss your gloves in the trash, letting her hug you and bounce up and down in glee. She deserves this. She hasn’t gotten a night out with her husband in months, their three-year-old twins keeping them more than occupied.

“I hope you have fun tonight. Drink something with Irish cream in it for me, will you?” 

Leigh’s hands pat your cheeks gently. “Oh, you know I will. Just wish you were getting out there too.”

You wave her away, and she’s quick to hold up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Is Natalie’s brother still coming in today?”

Your eyes dart to the clock over her head. “Should be here in like, five minutes.”

The doorbell chimes. 

Both yours and Leigh’s heads snap in that direction. 

“Or…now.”

“Oh, fucking Christ.”

Your eyes flick back to each other immediately, having spoken at the exact same time. Leigh is not gonna let your outburst go. 

There’s already a devilish grin growing across her face. “You think he’s hot, don’t you?”

You dart around her. “No. Those words never left my mouth.”

She catches you by the belt loop. “You’re right, I believe your exact words were ‘Oh fucking Christ, he could bend me over right here.’” Leigh’s laughter bubbles up and you fear she might keel over. 

“That is an exaggeration,” you huff. 

Leigh slings her worn out, bright red purse over her shoulder. “Bet you were thinking it though.” She risks a glance over her shoulder. “You’re not wrong though. His arms are huge. And you better go help him before we get a bad Yelp review.”

You start to wave her away. “Yeah, alright.” You follow her towards the front desk. “Have fun tonight,” you shout, “and remember to make sure you have meds for tomorrow’s hangover.”

She fake gasps, pausing just beside where Carmen is standing. “Me? Hungover? Never.” Leigh lowers her sunglasses just slightly and directs her next few words at the man in front of her. “She’ll take real good care of you, youngest Berzatto.”

The doorbell chimes as Leigh makes her way out to her beat up Mustang, leaving you and Carmy alone out front. 

He laughs awkwardly, shuffling towards the front counter to meet you.

“Sorry about her,” you say. “She’s full of it. Anyway, Carmen, right? Natalie told me you’d try and come by today.”

Carmy’s cheeks burn with embarrassment from being put on the spot. But also because you’re so…pretty. He manages to pull together a few coherent words. 

“She really said try?” he asks, the barest of smiles gracing his lips.

You cross your arms and walk over to your station. “No. It was more of ‘He’ll be there at 4:30 tomorrow or else I’m going to burn down The Bear and keep the insurance money for myself.’”

Carmen scratches at his curls. “Yeah, that I believe.”

You gently pat the back of your leather chair. “You can sit whenever you’re ready. I realize I never really introduced myself.” You say your name, and even if it’s a name Carm has heard a hundred times before, it somehow sounds hypnotizing falling off your lips. 

The leather backing is cold through Carmy’s t-shirt. He hopes the shiver that moves down his spine when you thread your fingers through his hair passes off as the coinciding goosebumps. 

“So, what are we thinking today, Carmen?”

His big blue eyes blink at you through the mirror. “Carmy,” he says.

“Hm?” you hum, running a wide-toothed comb carefully through his curls so that nothing snags. 

“You don’t have to call me Carmen. Makes me feel like I’m in trouble.” A low laugh tumbles over his lips. “Carmy is fine.”

You smile at him. “Okay, Carmy. What would you like me to do with your hair today? Buzz cut? Mohawk?” You walk around to face him head on. “Extensions?”

You notice how nervously he plays with his hands. But you get it. You’re hoping to make him as comfortable as you can, and not just for that good Google review.

Carmy runs a hand over his mouth, hiding the sweet smile that’s growing there. The crinkles by his eyes give it away. You’re so fucking charming he can’t stand it. 

He clears his throat. “I was thinking just a trim? It’s kinda long over my eyes, and sometimes it’s good to see things.” You giggle. 

Good god, how’s he gonna get through this?

“Maybe a little shorter on the sides, too.”

“Like a mullet?” You quip.

He snorts. “Nah, not a full mullet. Maybe where it’s barely noticeable that it’s shorter there? I’m also shit at taking care of it, so if you could help with that…”

You take your bottom lip between your teeth. Carmy has to clear his throat, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. “How ‘bout this. I’ll take you to the sink and give it a wash, and then we’ll trim it, and I can have you help me style it so it’s easier when you’re at home?”

Carmy nods. “Yeah, that’d be great, thank you.” 

Your hand slides across the back of his shoulders as you move away and towards the back room full of head-sized basins. “Come on then, Mr. Berzatto. Let’s wash that pretty head of yours.”

————

“That feels so good,” Carmen says, the words leaving his mouth before he has a moment to think them over. “Wait—is that a weird thing to say?”

You laugh from your place behind him. “No, not at all. That’s why I keep my nails a little longer, because my clients always tell me this is the best part.” Your hands are covered in a lavender-scented shampoo, your fingertips massaging the foam into his scalp. “A good head scratch does wonders for the soul.”

You watch Carmy’s lips lift at the corners. His eyes are closed, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he dozed off. You’re always happy to keep a conversation going with clients, but the silence is just as well.

The sounds of foils getting folded in place by your coworker out front, the air conditioner, the radio—it’s all oddly soothing. The radio station Leigh always sets it on has the oddest selection of music choices for one given channel. Not that you mind that either. 

You rinse Carmen’s hair out and apply conditioner to the mids and ends of his curls. You blindly grab a comb, muscle memory putting it in your grasp in seconds.

Carmy swears he’s gonna knock out. He’s trying about as hard as he did in school when he knew he should be paying attention to whatever math lesson but couldn’t keep his eyes open. And when your words reach his ears, he thinks you’ve just read his mind. Sensed the sleep pricking at his eyelids. 

“You do have really nice hair, Carmy. Anyone else in your family have curls?”

You watch the way his brows knit together. “I think my mom? You’d never know it though. She’s straightened it every day since I was a teenager, like even when we weren’t leaving the house.”

You focus on your final rinse of his hair, allowing him to continue. “When I was a kid though, if she showered before bed and I needed her, her hair would be all wet and curly. That’s the only time I saw it like that.”

Carmy sits up when you wrap a thin towel around his head, holding it secure as he follows you back to your station. 

“Leigh, the woman leaving when you came in? She has lots of clients like that. A lot of people weren’t taught how to take care of their curly hair.”

“Is that a hint?” Carmen quips. It makes you snort. 

“Just a gentle one.”

Carmy watches while you cut his hair. Every once in a while your tongue will poke out, or you’ll wiggle your hips to a song on the radio. When you’re almost finished, what Carmen thinks is a Madonna song comes on. 

You start humming, and Carmy knows he’s done for. Richie would call him whipped. He probably will tomorrow morning, just by reading Carm’s face. 

“Out of the sky, I close my eyes…heaven help me.”

Carmy lets out a little laugh because you’re doing this little dance as you sift through his curls. You hear it, and it only encourages you more. 

“Big Madonna fan?” he asks, his hand rubbing over his mouth to hide the boyish grin there. The tattoo on his hand catches your eye. 

“She’s good for the soul.”

You crouch in front of him, rummaging through a cabinet for he doesn’t know what. “Your tattoos are pretty, by the way,” you say. It takes him by surprise. 

“Oh. Thanks.”

You emerge with two bottles. “Do people not usually compliment them?” You spray his hair down with cool water, getting it to the stage of damp you need for the products to work. 

Carmy laughs lowly. Maybe with a little hint of embarrassment. “Nah, they usually ask me what the hell they are or if I was drunk when I got ‘em.”

“Were you?”

He meets your playful gaze. “Only for a few.” Your smile is downright gleeful. 

“M’kay, Carm. Let me give you the rundown.” He straightens and you get a glimpse of the chef he left at The Bear to visit you today. “So this is a leave-in conditioner. After you shower, you put just a little of this in your hands—like this—and kinda run it through your hair all over. Just so it’s in there well.”

You demonstrate, and for the first time, Carmy finally understands how people can look at him and question his ability to cook so seamlessly. That’s the way you do hair. Like it’s as easy as breathing for you. 

“And this is a gel. It’s super lightweight, so it won’t feel gross or anything, and it’s not expensive either. You wanna use a little more of this, but not by much. You can do the same sort of thing, because your hair takes shape really easily since it’s not damaged any. And once that’s distributed, I want you to scrunch it some, just to get any excess product, but also to help any curls that need encouragement.”

You bite your lip because Carmy is nodding along, giving you his complete attention and it’s fucking adorable. 

“And if there’s any curls by your face or anything, you can use your fingers to define them so they look how you want. You think you can do all that?”

Carmy laughs. “Not a chance.” Then you’re both laughing, and it feels so comfortable anyone would think you’d known each other for years. 

“It takes practice. I’m gonna give you these to take home and use.” Your hand disappears in your back pocket for just a moment. “But if you want to put your number in my phone, I can always send you instructions if you need help…”

Carmy pauses. Freezes, even. You look at him nervously, afraid that maybe your ability to read the room has evaporated. Luckily, he proves you wrong. 

“Wow. That was smooth.”

You exhale and laugh into the back of your hand. “I’m never that smooth, I don’t know how I managed that,” you chuckle. Carmy’s fingers fly over your keyboard. 

“Thank you for today, really. I usually avoid the hairdresser at all costs.”

“Sugar did tell me that,” you grin. 

“M-maybe I could make you dinner or something, for putting up with me…?”

Your face warms. “I’d like that, yeah.”

Carmy blinks. His phone goes off where you’ve shot him a text with just your name and a smiley face. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

He rubs his hands together. “Okay, cool. Alright, yeah. What do you like?”

“I wouldn’t say no to pasta. Pasta is good in all forms.”

————

“You can tell me if you hate it. I won’t be offended.”

“I think you might have a nervous breakdown though, and you’re too pretty for that.”

Carmy blushes, shaking his head at you. 

“What?” you laugh. “It’s true.” Your voice has a sing-song lilt to it. Over the past few weeks you’ve gotten to know Carmy a bit better. He’s been busy though, so it’s taken longer than expected to have dinner together. 

He made up for it by providing you with pasta and cheesecake for dessert. He’s wearing this thick sweater, your eyes locking on his forearms where he’s rolled up the sleeves. 

Sugar was so excited when you texted her after his hair appointment. 

Natalie B: How’d it go? Was he a total pain in the ass?

You: it went well! got him all sorted out. he offered me dinner as a thank you (after he paid, of course). would that weird you out??

Natalie B: OMG NO!! He’s got such a giant stick up his ass, maybe your charm pulled it out! Go have fun. Leigh was telling me you hadn’t been on a date in forever last time I was in anyhow.

You: brb blocking both of you shitheads ♥️

You hadn’t expected a haircut to lead to any of this, but sitting here, in Carmy’s sparsely furnished apartment, looking at the soft smile on his face and the nervous way he’s fussing with his fingers as you eat the dinner he made you, you’re grateful.

Not that you’ll tell Natalie that. Or Leigh. They don’t need that ego boost. 

You wipe your mouth on a napkin and look up to see that Carmy is gazing at you expectantly. You laugh, his eye contact making you a little nervous. 

“It’s good, Carm. Really good. You can eat.”

He swipes his hand down his face, but when it comes down to grab his fork, he lets you see his smile. “I’m glad you like it. Not too much parsley or anything? I didn’t add lemon because Sugar mentioned you saying you didn’t like pasta with too much lemon juice in it.”

Your mouth drops open. That’s such a small, easy to forget thing. Maybe you will have to give Nat a hug. 

You reach out to touch his hand. Tentatively, just in case it’s too far. “That’s so sweet, Carmy. It’s perfect, really. And honestly the lemon thing is from one very overpowering pasta experience. Maybe whatever you make me will be better.”

Carmen takes a big bite of pasta and a swig of beer so he has time to collect himself. “Maybe we can fix your lemon-related trauma.”

“As long as there’s a backup snack in case the lemon PTSD can’t be fixed.”

You both burst into a fit of giggles. The rest of dinner goes by, filled with conversation about everything and nothing—Carmy’s lack of knowledge about current television, your love of reading and need for someone to share the plots with. 

Carmen is making you a plate to take home with you when he’s finally psyched himself up to ask his question. He says your name and you peer at him from your spot against the counter. 

“I-uh…I’ve been trying to do my hair the way you taught me, but I can’t get it right. I was wonderin’ if you’d show me? Maybe? You don’t have to—”

“Of course I can. All you had to do was ask.” You push off the counter and beam at him. “Come on, I’ll help you.”

You’re lucky you already learned the way to his bathroom so that your streak of confidence would continue working so well. And when you squeeze out some of the hair gel into Carmy’s hands, you know he just needed an excuse. He’s got it down pat. 

He runs his hands through his hair, scrunching clumps together every now and then, finger-curling the pieces up front and by his ears. Now you’re just waiting to see what he really wanted to say. 

You cross your arms, attempting to look serious, but you can’t hold back the grin spreading across your face. 

Carmen looks over at you, drying his hands now that they’re free of product. He’s never been great at reading people, but that look in your eye tells him he’s a shit actor. 

“So, that didn’t fool you, huh?”

You giggle. “Not at all, Berzatto. You couldn’t even fake how well you’ve learned to do your hair.”

Carmy takes a step closer to you, rubbing his nose self-consciously. “I’m very bad at saying what I’m thinking. Or saying what I want.”

“I can see that.”

He squints at you, his lips ticking up just slightly. 

“So what is it you want but are too scared to say?” you start. “Do we need to play hangman?” 

That would normally get a laugh out of him, but he’s too on edge. Inhale. Exhale. Oh, just fucking say it, Carm. 

“I wanna kiss you.”

Your ears burn. You release your bottom lip from where it was pinned between your teeth. “I was hoping you’d say that. Please do.”

You push up on your tiptoes, suddenly bursting with excitement and hoping that’ll convey to Carmen that he doesn’t need to be nervous because you want this just as bad. 

It works. 

You put your hands on Carmy’s collarbones the second his fingers slip into your hair. Your nervous system lights on fire, thoughts of how much surface area his palms cover racing through your mind. He kisses you all shy and hesitant at first, like he’s nervous he won’t do what you’re hoping. 

His lips are warm, and you can feel the spots where he’s chewed them raw. You can’t help but think that kissing him might be a good way to break that habit. His nose presses into your cheek, tickling you and making you giggle.

Carmen pulls away, smiling at you. “What’s so funny?”

“Your nose was tickilin’ my cheek.”

“Oh? Like this?” He starts dragging his nose across your face and then down to your neck when he feels you start to laugh harder. He thinks he’s finally cracked the code. It seems like pasta and nose tickles are the proper way into your heart. 

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

rb banner from @steph-speaks

[dixons-sunshine]

Just started s3 and am going absolutely feral over Daryl with baby Judith. Any thoughts on the reader and Daryl caring for Judith those first few days when Rick is still a bit murder-spreeey?

A/n: Anon, you're so real for that. Daryl holding baby Judith had my ovaries going boom. Ugh I love that scene so much!

Imagine taking care of Judith with Daryl while Rick's too out of it due to Lori's death.

It's not like the two of you had to take care of the new baby girl. Everybody offered to do so. Beth, Carol, Hershel, you name it. You wanted to take care of her. So as your partner, Daryl therefore decided to help—not that he needed much convincing to begin with. The little girl had already wormed her way into his heart.

Caring for a newborn wasn't an easy task, that's for sure. It made it a bit harder for you because you were mourning your friend, and taking care of her baby made you miss her even more. However, Judith needed you, and even though you weren't her mom, you'd do your best to care for her. If that meant having to deal with dirty diapers, puke and sleepless nights, so be it.

Daryl wouldn't admit it, but seeing you care for Judith with such tenderness and love stirred something deep within him. He'd never thought of it before, but seeing you with Judith made him think of how you'd be with a baby of your own. A baby he could help you create. Would you want that with him? Do you even want kids of your own?

That conversation came up late one night when the two of you had just put Judith to bed. Her makeshift crib was in your room until Rick was sane enough to finally start taking care of her, making it easier to care for her when she woke up during the night. You could see Daryl's eyes flickering between you and Judith repeatedly. You had asked him what was on his mind, and unexpectedly, even for him, he spoke his mind.

“Been thinkin'... Would ya wanna start a family one day?”

You had stopped, looked up at him in surprise, and shrugged. “Do you wanna start a family one day?”

“Dunno. Never really thought'a it 'fore now. Seein' ya care for Lil' Asskicker... I dunno. S'a nice thought, startin' a family with ya.”

You had smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Do you really want that?”

Daryl had nodded. “Maybe not righ' now, but someday, yeah.”

Before either of you could talk more about the subject, Judith had interrupted the moment with a cry. However, with that conversation fresh in your mind, you couldn't stop imagining a little one of your own running around.

And if a lot of baby making sessions transpired after that, nobody should've been surprised.

[phefics]

unconventional

ship: billy loomis x fem!reader x stu macher summary: a tickle fight with billy and stu takes a turn when the boys realize how much they like hearing the reader beg. warnings: dubious consent, degrading names (slut), tickling word count: 1.6k

It’s an unconventional arrangement, dating two boys at once. You certainly hadn’t befriended Billy Loomis and Stu Macher with the intention of falling for either of them, let alone both.

But, shit happens, especially when your two best friends are attractive and fucking inseparable. Dating one of them would end up as a package deal, anyway. 

Kids at school couldn’t quite figure you out. One day, you’d be seen getting carried bridal-style by Stu, the next, you’d be holding hands with Billy. Some people thought you were a cheater, some thought you were a beard to hide a gay love affair.

None of you gave a shit what anyone thought.

Your parents weren’t home, and you had invited the boys over for a movie night. Stu had arrived first, because he lived closer, and although Billy got there only a few minutes later, he walked in on an interesting scene.

You had left the front door unlocked, and as he walked inside, he heard shrieking coming from the living room. He panicked for a moment, thinking Stu had broken the ‘Don’t Kill Y/N’ rule, but as he tiptoed into the room, all he found was Stu straddling your thighs, tickling you.

He couldn’t help but grin at the sight. “What’s going on here?” he asked.

You and Stu both jumped at his voice, so caught up in the moment that you had forgotten he was on his way.

“Billy, help!” you cried, still giggling like mad as Stu’s fingers slipped beneath your sweater, scribbling over the skin of your stomach.

“Help? Sure, I’ll help,” Billy said, giving Stu a smirk as he approached, kneeling down on the floor beside you.

He easily grabbed your flailing wrists and pulled your arms up, pinning them over your head.

“Can’t smack me anymore, hm?” Stu teased. “Thanks, Billy, I was startin’ to fear for my life there.”

“No problem. We couldn’t let that pretty face get bruised, could we?”

While you agreed that Stu had a pretty face, you wanted nothing more than to punch him in it as his fingers creeped higher, tickling your underarms with a newfound vigor, now that you were helpless to stop him.

Your laugh grew in volume, in intensity. “You fuckers,” you gasped out, kicking your legs wildly. “I’m gonna kill you both, cut it out!”

Billy let out a low chuckle, his breath ghosting over your ear. Stu, meanwhile, giggled along with you, clearly pleased with himself for starting this whole thing.

“You want us to stop?” Billy asked. “Cause it seems like you’re having fun…”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re smiling like crazy,” Stu added. “Why would we stop makin’ you smile, baby?”

"Besides, we're certainly having fun."

You whined as his fingers slowed to a torturous, feather-light touch, just ghosting against your skin. “You guys suck,” you said, breathless.

Billy hummed. “Really? We suck? That’s not very nice, Y/N. Stu, I think we need to teach her some manners.”

“I agree.”

And with that, Stu’s hands began tickling you again, dancing over your entire torso, never lingering in one spot for too long. Billy adjusted his grip on your wrists so that he was only holding them with one hand, using the other to flutter over the side of your neck, making you scrunch up your shoulders uselessly.

This was awful. It was torture. But…There was something exciting about it, too. Being held down like this, helpless and pliant beneath their touches as they exploited your weak spots…Stu’s hands brushed against your chest as he went, and you weren’t wearing a bra, and you felt your nipples grow hard at the quick, barely-there contact.

“You gonna apologize to us?” Billy asked.

You shook your head. You had nothing to apologize for. They did suck, you were just telling the truth.

“Always so fuckin’ stubborn,” he sighed, before using his free hand to tickle your armpit, making you squeal.

“Maybe she’s not giving up because she likes it,” Stu said. “She’s such a slut, I wouldn’t be surprised if this turns her on.”

If the tickling itself wasn’t hot, those words certainly were. You felt your pussy throb when you were called that, felt a thrill up your spine.

Billy chuckled. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he said. “How about we make a new deal, Y/N? Stu’s gonna pull your pants down, and if you aren't wet right now, we’ll stop. But if you are, well…Maybe we’ll take the rest of your clothes off and keep going.”

The fingers stopped, finally giving you a chance to fully catch your breath. Your skin buzzed with the phantom sensation, your head spun from their teasing words. But most of all, you knew for a fact that you were wet, and your heart pounded in your chest at the realization.

Stu gave you a mischievous grin before getting off your legs and grabbing the waist of your sweatpants, yanking them down to your knees with no preamble, and cupping his fingers over your mound, pressing against your folds through your panties, feeling the obvious dampness that only made his grin grow larger, more devilish.

“You were right,” he said. “Little slut’s getting off on this.”

You opened your mouth and shut it again. What were you supposed to say? Deny the obvious? Attempt to elaborate that it wasn’t really the tickling, it was everything combined? Would that really save your dignity?

Billy laughed. “Fuckin’ knew it.”

You let out a soft whimper as Stu’s fingers rubbed against your pussy, trying to buck your hips to gather more friction.

“So needy,” Stu muttered, almost to himself.

Billy released your wrists and made quick work of pulling your hoodie over your head, the cold air making goosebumps rise on your bare skin. Your nipples hardened even more, and you grew even more aroused as you were stripped.

Stu pulled your pants down the rest of the way, and your underwear, too, leaving you naked on the carpet and blushing like mad.

“Ready for round two, baby?”

You shook your head, squirming wildly as they caged you in between their bodies. “Please, I—”

They didn’t let you finish. If you really wanted them to stop, you knew what to say, and you hadn’t, so they had no reason for showing mercy.

Stu began squeezing up and down your thighs, occasionally scratching behind your knees as well, while Billy dug into your ribs.

The combined sensations made you burst into laughter, slightly hoarse with how loud you’d been the entire time. You thrashed, but they easily dodged your flying limbs and kept tickling.

“So fuckin’ cute,” Billy cooed.

“Fucking adorable,” Stu agreed.

You wailed as Stu ran his fingers over the sole of your foot, toes curling in an attempt to block the feeling, but it did nothing to provide any relief.

“Please,” you managed to say. “I can’t take it anymore, stop it!”

To your surprise, they did. Your begging usually only turned them on more, and you doubted they were truly going to stop.

Stu positioned himself between your thighs, pushing them apart so he could bring his face to your pussy, looking up at you with those sweet blue eyes.

Billy’s hands came to grab your breasts, and you moaned softly as his thumbs brushed over your nipples.

Stu licked at your entrance teasingly before beginning to eat you out, holding your hips and easily finding your clit with his tongue.

Your head lolled back into Billy’s lap, legs spreading even wider to give Stu better access to your aching clit.

All the rough-housing, the name-calling, the teasing had gotten you so worked up, and they were finally going to give you some relief.

Or, so you thought.

Slowly, Billy’s touch became light and ticklish again, blunt fingernails tracing along the curve of your tits, up to your collarbones, down to your sides. You squirmed and laughed softly, trying to ignore it and focus on the pleasure Stu’s tongue was bringing you, but that bastard had also begun to wiggle his fingers against your hips, all while focusing the rest of his attention on your clit, causing a mixture of moans and giggles to spill from your lips.

“So pretty,” Billy murmured. “So sensitive, too. But you take it like the good girl you are, hm? You’ll take whatever we dish out, won’t you, slut?”

“Yes,” you reply, your speech slightly slurred.

“You gonna cum for us like this? Fuckin’ helpless, fuckin’ adorable…”

You whined as Stu’s mouth brought you closer to climax, and Billy’s words were certainly helping. “Yes,” you said again. “Please, make me cum…”

You felt Stu chuckle against you, the heat of his breath making you twitch.

Their fingers were still tickling, in that maddening sort of itch that made you want to crawl out of your skin more than it made you want to laugh. It kept your entire nervous system alert, buzzing like electricity as you drew closer and closer to orgasm.

“That’s our girl,” Billy said. “Begging like a good slut. You can cum baby, cum for us.”

His words were all you needed to be pushed off the edge, legs shaking as you came with a cry of pleasure.

Stu popped up from between your thighs, all wild-eyed and adorable, like he was so proud to have given you that orgasm. His lips were shining with your wetness, and Billy leaned over you to kiss it off for him.

As your boyfriends kissed, you flopped back against the carpet, breathless and spent. Your skin still tingled and you felt high off of adrenaline.

“How ‘bout we get you cleaned up, huh?” Stu said, gesturing at the sticky mess on your thighs.

You blushed. “My shower is not big enough for the three of us,” you said.

“But we could run you a bath,” Billy suggested. “And you could watch us have a little fun…You got us so fuckin’ hard.”

You could see both of their cocks straining in their pants, and grinned. “That sounds like a plan.”

An unconventional relationship, an unconventional sex life…You couldn’t care less if it was strange. It was fucking perfect.

[eviesaurusrex]

—ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ | ꜱᴛᴜᴄᴋʏ

GIFs not mine!

summary: Perfect moments with their best girl.

word count: 5.5k ooooopsie

warnings: nothing, tooth-rotting fluff because these two deserve the world, kissing, two big, strong men being softies for their girl, but also sometimes in overprotective mode, reader is described as shorter than them, allusion to smutty smut and lingerie, short make-out session, an ex is making a short appearance, not entirely proofread

author’s note: I’ve never written something for Stucky, but thanks to tumblr, I’ve shipped them for a very long time and had to do this, so here we are. Don’t hate me for this being utter shit, thanks.

* * *

Sunny days were her favorites. So, sunny days were naturally entirely reserved for her when everyone had gotten time off missions. When the weather forecast predicted sunny days ahead, Steve and Bucky did everything to try and get these days off, especially when the weeks lying behind them had been filled with rain and clouds.

Their best girl was a vitamin D junkie, so they became vitamin D junkies as well.

Her sigh, full of contentment, let hearts flutter as Bucky watched the woman they loved bathing in the warming rays of sunshine, his shades perched on her pretty nose. Nothing of her wasn’t pretty, especially when the sun tickled her skin and let her seem as radiant as the burning star itself.

She had her arms crossed under her head, an opened novel resting on her slowly moving chest, her pretty lips slightly parted, and her eyes closed behind the tinted glass. At the sight of her relaxed state of mind, cruel but crucial missions finally somewhere in the very back of her head, Bucky couldn’t stop himself. Staring wasn’t enough to satisfy his craving at that particular moment, and he bent his head to press a sweet kiss to her even sweeter-tasting lips, humming in amusement at the little gasp leaving her mouth before she herself hummed in contentment and kissed him back.

“What was that for?” YN asked, eyes now opened to stare up at the handsome brunet looming over her as he still was propped up on his arm right next to her on the picnic blanket they had placed somewhere in Central Park near the lake. He started playing with strands of her hair and shrugged one shoulder, a breathtaking smile slowly stretching over his face, even reaching his pretty blue eyes and making them sparkle with happiness. “Nothin’, doll. Just felt like kissin’ ya,” Bucky mumbled close to her lips after he had bent down again, but Steve’s voice made him stop a mere millimeter apart from her. “Already startin’ without me even though I got’ya some food and iced coffee on my way here? Rude.” But his smile told something else.

Pushing Bucky off of her with a hand pressed against his chest, YN reached up as soon as the blond super soldier had knelt on their blanket and tangled her fingers in the neckline of his light blue shirt. “He started,” she whispered conspiratorially with a giggle, well knowing that the other super soldier could hear her words just perfectly. His quiet scoff just underlined it. But Steve only grinned happily and obliged without so much as a second thought as YN pulled him downward to her face and kissed him Hello. “You said something about iced coffee, if I remember correctly?” He hummed in approval and reached for the paper cup holder to get her current favorite summer drink. “Couldn’t let you enjoy the day without it.” Another kiss came close after before his blue eyes followed YN’s movements as she grabbed the cup, took a deep sip, and lay back down again, snuggling closer into Bucky’s chest.

Steve followed close by, putting down the food and the other two drinks he had gotten for them, and settled on her other side onto the blanket, his long legs stretched out and crossed at his ankles. Bucky smiled at him over their best girl’s body and couldn’t stop himself from bending over YN to press a gentle kiss to Steve’s cheek, grinning at the blush creeping up into his cheeks, still not used to the openly shown affection from either of them. It was like a dream, and he loved how his life had turned—how all their lives had turned.

YN had watched her two lovesick men with a gentle smile before littering both their handsome faces with kisses until it was her who was showered in kisses, turning her into a giggling mess underneath the sun. They ignored every single look thrown their way, not caring for the people and their silly thoughts because they were as happy as probably humanely possible. They bathed in her adorable sounds, savored every single touch of her skin, and every single look and smile she showed them.

“How’s our sun girl today,” Steve mumbled against her lips, feeling Bucky’s fingers carding through his hair and YN’s thumb caressing his cheek, her smiling lips pressing almost open-mouthed kisses to his. “Perfectly and utterly content.” It was only a sighed whisper, but it was enough to make both their hearts flutter again. It still was a somewhat adrenaline rush to realize how happy they made this woman, how lucky they’ve been that she loved them both, just as they both loved her. It still continued to blow their minds how open they could be nowadays, how little the majority of people cared when they saw the trio strolling through the city, sharing kisses, holding hands, walking as closely next to one another as possible. Sometimes, Steve just had to think that all this was nothing but a dream and that he would wake up any minute now, back in his sickly body and his loved ones entirely out of reach.

“Hey.”

Bucky drew him out of his mind and back to their cozy little spot in Central Park, blue eyes meeting blue eyes, dark brows worryingly drawn together. The blond super soldier only shook his head slightly, a smile tucking at the corner of his mouth as he looked from one worried face to another, swiftly pressing easing kisses to both their cheeks. “It’s alright. I’m okay. Jus’ tired and too much in my head. Wanna try one of these loaded donuts I found on my way?” YN squealed at that and sat up faster than both men would’ve considered possible, smiling at one another behind her back before following close to at least get a single bite of those treats before they vanished right before their eyes.

Sometimes, this woman really blew their minds.

* * *

It was already dark outside; the night stretching across the window-covered wall of their shared room at the compound, and the moon shining brightly into the dimly lit bedroom. Steve was lying on his side of the massive and custom-manufactured bed Tony had gifted them last Christmas after he had been tired of hearing YN groan and whine about the little space she had between two buffed super soldiers. Now, she was sprawled like a cute little sea star over him and the rest of the bed, almost seemingly covering every bit and appearing a lot taller than she actually was compared to the two men she called the loves of her life. Steve sometimes had to ask himself how she managed to cover basically every inch of the bed while also being sprawled atop their bodies, and some nights even managed to fall out of the bed.

This woman was an enigma to him, but Steve loved her even more for that. It didn’t matter that some nights he felt a foot or an elbow in his ribs or that Bucky always woke him when he single-handedly manhandled YN back into her designated spot of their bed without paying attention to where Steve was sleeping. Even if he could change everything, he wouldn’t change a single thing. This was what he’d always wanted back in the days, what he envied people for. It simply was perfection.

One of his large hands softly and lovingly drew indescribable patterns on YN’s partly exposed skin, his other hand holding the novel he was currently reading after she had bought it during one of their many dates in the city. It was her love language—picking books and gifting them. And Steve happily obliged and started reading it right away. His eyes couldn’t leave the words on the pages, already deeply enraptured by the story unfolding in front of his eyes, head sometimes dipping to his right to press a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. Her slow but deep breathing was the only sound except for his in the room, and in his eyes, it was the only thing he’d ever need in his life—that and Bucky’s heartbeat next to hers when they all drifted off to sleep.

Suddenly, he felt YN moving more in her sleep, her fingers grasping his shirt like a lifeline, and a small whimper escaped her lips, brows deeply furrowed. He let the book rest on the blanket thrown over both of them and started humming the tune of one of her favorite songs while also pressing feather-light kisses to her forehead, trying to pull her unconsciousness out of the bad dream and back to something bright and joyful. And it worked like a charm, just as it always did, and soon, YN rested unmoving against his chest again, her breathing back to the long deep breaths of deep slumber.

Steve picked up his book where he had left off, only to let his motion stop midair as his eyes found Bucky leaning against the doorframe, watching his two people with a small smile on his lips. “Bad dream again?” The blond nodded and put the book on the nightstand. “They come and go as they please.” Bucky had more experience with them than he had, so he just nodded in understanding and walked over to them. His duffel bag leaned against the wall as he sat down on Steve’s bedside, hands finding together and holding tightly onto one another. The brunet kissed the blond first before pressing a lingering kiss to YN’s forehead, sighing deeply as their familiar scent enveloped him and soothed his mind. “I’m too tired to take a shower, but she’ll tell me a piece of her mind when she wakes up and realizes I climbed into bed in my tactical gear,” Bucky groaned quietly, head resting at Steve’s shoulder, but then chuckled and pushed himself back up after he had felt a kiss to his temple. The Rogers grinned at that.

Yes, they were decades-old super soldiers and fought off the most dangerous people on this planet, but they feared the wrath of this tiny, delicate woman more than anything else in this world. And they never liked to upset her in the first place.

“Just a quick rinse. It’ll make you feel better,” Steve nudged Bucky gently and smiled lovingly at his deep sigh, watching his shoulders slump down and his body succumbing to the exhaustion after a mission. “Only a quick one. And only because I love you two.” With that, Bucky let his hand wander into Steve’s neck and pulled him towards him, but only so much as not to disturb YN in her much-needed sleep, and exhaled slowly as he felt their lips touching. “I could join you,” Steve mumbled into the kiss, feeling excitement rushing through his body at the thought alone, but knew Bucky would shake his head even before he actually did it. “You need to take care of our girl here. Y’know how easily she wakes up when no one is next to her.” Then, he smirked and kissed Steve slowly and languidly. “Remember, we have the entire weekend to ourselves. Just the three of us in here, unoccupied time. The little something I found for her should arrive tomorrow.” Steve’s breath hitched in his throat as the memory of a night spent online shopping moved back into his mind, accompanied by the mere anticipation he had felt when Bucky had found the scandalous piece they both knew she would love—until it would be on the floor, probably in lacey shreds.

Bucky chuckled as Steve finally pushed him off the bed. “Go and take a shower, sarge. I know someone is in need of her big spoon.” And he was right because as the other man climbed into their bed and pressed his chest against her back, YN smiled in her sleep and wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, nuzzling closer into each of her super soldiers, the bad dreams entirely gone for the night.

* * *

Choreomania echoed through the still empty apartment somewhere in Brooklyn, the sun filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows, facing Prospect Park in its green beauty. YN hummed and sang along to the vinyl of Florence + The Machine, wearing an old pair of sweatpants—she wasn’t even sure who they belonged to, either Steve or Bucky—and an old tank top, and now, after hours filled with painting the walls, she was covered in paint splotches, her fingers raw from removing the old wallpaper meticulously, so she could paint the walls just like they preferred.

This would be their home. This would be their safe space. This would be the home of their family. And therefore, it had to simply be perfect. And that’s why YN was already in here, already working hard for their dream home to become a reality instead of a fleeting image in their heads, even though they had decided to do this together after Steve’s and Bucky’s last mission for the month. But she couldn’t wait. She wasn’t able to sit around at the compound, reading her books and watching her shows when she already had all the time possible at hand to do something.

Dipping the painter’s roll back into the color, YN quickly climbed the ladder to check the painter’s tape one last time, only to rearrange and re-stick it again. She was satisfied with the result after the adjustment; the blue tape line was now perfectly even, and the wall was ready to be painted. With a nod, the Avenger started to climb down the metal ladder, only to slip off it on her sock-clad feet. A shriek thought its way out of her throat as she felt herself falling and following earth’s gravitational forces until a pair of strong arms caught her mid-air and pressed her against a broad chest.

“Woah there, doll,” Bucky’s voice murmured close to her ear, and instinctively, YN’s arms circled his neck. “What the hell do you think you’re doin’ here all by yourself, hm?” She searched his crystal blue eyes with her own and shrugged, almost helplessly, at the sight of his worried gaze and his scrunched-up brows. YN couldn’t even get a word out of her mouth because suddenly, heavy steps echoed through the hallway, and Steve entered the living room, brows just as worriedly furrowed as his boyfriend’s. “What happened?” Immediately, he let go of the bags he had carried, letting them tumble to the hardwood floor just as she had almost done and hurried himself over to the pair, his eyes already scanning for possible injuries before his hands followed. They softly wandered over her arms and her legs, and Bucky let his hand feel her back up and down, only to hum, satisfied when she didn’t flinch in pain.

YN shrugged again and looked from one high-towering super soldier to the other. “I thought I could start on the walls already while you two are still in Prague.” Now that she thought about it… “What are you two doing here, anyway? You weren’t supposed to be back until, what? The day after tomorrow?” Then, she had to add: “I don’t mean I’m not excited to have you back already, in one piece, because I am—excited. Welcome home.” Her eyes almost teared up when she first pulled Steve down at his neck and kissed his soft lips gently before turning her head to Bucky and kissing him just as lovingly. The two soldiers smiled softly down at the woman between them, still lying in Bucky’s arms, and recognized the feeling swirling inside them instantly: pure happiness and domestic bliss.

“You should’ve waited for us, baby girl,” Steve muttered after the brunet had sat her back on her feet, and he had the opportunity to take a gentle hold of her hands. The delicate tips of her fingers were an angry red, her skin plastered in probably toxic paint, and the grumble of her stomach had been heard by the two men downstairs when they first arrived at their new home. “I’m fine. It’s nothing, really, Stevie. The mustard-yellow wallpaper just put up a harder fight than anticipated, but I conquered it.” Her proud grin warmed the two men from the inside, and Bucky wrapped his arms around her shoulders, propping his chin atop her head. “Well, that fight must’ve been a sight to behold,” he chuckled before his metal thumb started to draw circles into her upper arm. “But I think someone forgot to look after herself, so you’ll take a break now and eat something while we’re dealing with the walls. Alright, doll?”

Quietly muttering, YN obliged and nodded because she knew this wasn’t a fight she could ever win. Steve and Bucky were too protective for that, too worried about her well-being to let her have her way now. So she let these two settle her on their folded jackets, back propped up against the wooden passage frame, and takeout from her favorite Chinese restaurant in hands. Her eyes never left them, watching them as they quickly tried to wipe her skin clean of the smelly paint before pressing kisses to her face, reminding her to eat her lunch, and went to work.

They stared at her progress for a moment, trying to figure out what her vision had been for their living room, before grabbing the painter’s rolls and rolling off the excess paint in the plastic bins. “You did such a great job, doll.” Bucky smiled over at her, his heart aching beautifully as he watched his best girl starting to smile radiantly with the chopsticks between her lips, and he was sure she had never been more beautiful than now. “Oh, definitely. This will be done before you finish your food,” Steve added to the praise, smiling himself, as he started to paint the first wall while Bucky climbed the ladder to treat the bare wooden planks with oil.

“You two should do this all day, every day. You look hot renovating our home.” The words were almost swallowed by the bite of Chinese takeout and chopsticks still in her mouth, and YN felt her cheeks blushing when they both turned and looked over at her. “Oh, yeah? Maybe we should take off our shirts then, baby girl?” Steve wiggled his blond brows teasingly, and a laugh escaped him, head thrown back, as YN bombarded him with a napkin. “Don’t you dare. See that window over there?” She pointed to the window at one of the sides, facing the house on the other side of the street. “That woman living there already ogled you two when we first went here. It obviously doesn’t matter that she’s married, but you don’t have to fuel her ego or whatever.”

Quietly grumbling, YN stared down into the box of takeout, the urgent feeling of hiding her two boyfriends from the world almost overwhelming again. Sometimes, she couldn’t help herself and felt overly protective of them, and sometimes even jealous, especially when women tried to take them away from her. It was stupid, she knew that because she knew that these two would never leave her—and neither would she. The thought alone hurt. But sometimes, her brain morphed back to the state of mind she had before them when men always only played with her and never meant what they said. Steve and Bucky changed that, changed her. And now, she was certain that these men would never dump her.

YN didn’t realize the lack of sounds—the wet noises of even wetter paint against a dry wall and the occasionally rusty sound of the ladder when it ached under Bucky’s weight—too focused on munching on her food to distract her mind and think about anything but that awful woman on the other side of the road. She didn’t even hear the sounds of heavy steps creeping closer to her sitting form, and she only realized how close they were when Steve lifted her off the ground and into his arms, wrapping her legs around his hips and carrying her over to the aforementioned window. The woman felt the glass pressed against her back, and she swallowed the last bite down, cocking one brow at their antics. Bucky had settled himself right next to them, leaning sideways against the wall next to the window and letting his hand cup her cheek.

Switching between their faces, YN looked from one to the other, both brows now almost touching her hairline, and her head cocked to the side questioningly. “What are you doing?” Her voice sounded more breathless than initially planned, and her lips parted slightly when Steve turned his attention to her exposed sensitive neck, softly breathing against it before kissing it languidly. “We can’t have our doll being all broody and jealous,” Bucky whispered in Steve’s place, his thumb slowly caressing the skin over her cheekbone. “We can’t have our best and only girl think that stares of some woman would let us react in any way possible.” Now he bent his head to start kissing from her collarbone upwards to her chin, slowly and teasingly. “Need to show that woman who we belong to.” Steve hummed in agreement before he nibbled at her most sensitive spot, gently sucking the skin between his lips, and chuckled when he heard the familiar sound of a gasp of air. “And we only belong to one woman,” he finally mumbled, lips pressed against lips, kissing her like a man possessed, before he backed off to let Bucky get his turn with their girl. He kissed her like a man starved, all tongue and teeth until they both needed oxygen and parted with labored breaths, all the while Steve had his chin propped up on her shoulder, eyes staring contently out the window and occasionally kissing her neck.

“I think that woman will never look at us again, baby girl.”

* * *

Following her through her favorite bookshop was a simple task—and a simple pleasure. They loved to watch their girl strolling through the aisles, her eyes wandering over the colorful book covers in different designs and art styles, stopping more as she actually walked, always a new book in sight that had picked her interest and curiosity. They followed her like two broad shadows, always shielding her from the outside world because they knew how much she needed those hours of mindless strolling and discovering.

YN stopped again at that moment, eyes wandering over the entire length of the bookshelf until they stopped at a book in the top half of the shelf. Pressing herself onto the tiptoes, she tried to reach it, but still, she was too short. With a huff, the woman lowered herself again and turned to her two boyfriends, looking up at them with big, round, pleading eyes, even though YN knew very well that she didn’t need to beg. “Could you…?” She couldn’t even get the entire question out before Bucky was right at her side, one of his big hands resting on the small of her back. “Which one, doll?” Her finger instantly stretched out and pointed to a blue and purple book spine which the brunet grabbed without any signs of effort and handed it to her with a smile and a kiss to her lips. “Thank you, baby,” she grinned up at him before reading the blurb on the back of the book and decided to give it a new home on her bookshelf.

Finding its way into the crook of her elbow, YN continued down the aisles and didn’t even have to turn and ask one of them to grab her another book because both men knew that title by heart now. And it was the main reason they headed to the shop today. Steve pressed himself against her back as he took it from the shelf, one hand resting on her shoulder and lovingly squeezing it, his lips wandering from exposed shoulder to her neck. He reveled in the sounds of her soft giggles and grinned against her skin when she whispered a Thanks, Stevie, when she gathered the third book of her favorite series in her arms. “Any time, baby girl.” It was only a soft whisper against the nape of her neck before Steve took a step back for her to continue her strolling and gathered Bucky’s hand in his to intertwine their fingers.

“We will leave a tremendous amount of money again,” he chuckled as they watched their girl picking up two other books and piling them in her arm, and Steve laughed softly at that. “Try and see it as a donation and continued support of local businesses,” the blond countered, the grin still on his face as he nudged Bucky’s side lovingly with his arm. “At least we earn enough to keep up with her small book addiction.” Steve threw Bucky a look at that and couldn’t contain his laugh as the brunet winked at him and pulled him closer to his side to press a kiss to his lips. “Just wait for what books she picked out for us again. We still need you to let go of The Hobbit for a while,” teased Steve, a bubbling laugh bursting out of him when Bucky nudged his side now and rolled his eyes at him. “Yeah yeah, whatever.”

But then, he stopped for a moment as he looked in the aisles ahead of them—the empty aisles ahead of them. “Where did she go?” It was common for them to lose YN at some point, but it never happened so quickly and without either of them realizing it until it was too late. Steve softly rubbed his shoulder when he felt Bucky’s anxiety getting the best of him. “She’s probably just around the corner in the next aisles, Buck. Remember the list she wrote and forgot on the coffee table? She should be somewhere left of us now. C’mon.” Lovingly, Steve coaxed him to come with him, well knowing how Bucky tended to think the worst when YN just disappeared, still not entirely processing the fact that Hydra was destroyed and no one would ever come for her again.

But when they rounded the shelf and looked into the aisles where Steve had thought YN must be by now, only to not find her there, even his heart skipped a couple of beats. Bucky swallowed thickly next to him, his eyes jumping from one face to another, trying to find her between the shopping people. “It’s okay, Buck. See?” He pointed to the books and the sign reading Non-Fiction hanging above the bookshelf. “They reorganized. She took a right turn then. Okay?” The brunet inhaled deeply and nodded slowly, still not fully convinced. “Let’s find our girl before she raids the entire store,” Steve tried to lighten the mood when he pulled Bucky with him, only to pick up YN’s voice in the aforementioned right aisles.

“What do you want, Chandler? You see, I’m busy buying books which is way more important than your sorry ass. So… Off you go.”

Both super soldiers stopped at the crossing and stared the man down who had the audacity to cheat on this gorgeous woman in front of them. He never deserved her, and they had picked up the pieces he had left and built her up again. And now, he had the audacity to talk to her, to even breathe the same air as she did.

“Chandler.” Bucky’s voice was as deep as it gets, sending chills down every spine of every person who never heard the growl before. But Chandler was too stupid to sense the danger he found himself in because he had dared to talk to her. His eyes moved from them to YN before he chuckled lowly. “So, it’s true? You not only sleep with one but two of them? Or are you just a spectator when they’re at it?” Steve grabbed the shoulder of his boyfriend to hold him back, even if he felt like punching that idiot himself, especially when he leaned closer to her than they both liked. “Always knew you’re a fucking freak.”

They both were on their way to beat the hell out of him, but YN beat them to it. She let go of her books, only for the stack to softly levitate in the air instead of following the gravitational laws of this planet, and with one hand, she grabbed Chandler’s neck and pushed him against the bookshelf with astonishing ease. He gulped and looked helplessly at the two men, trying to get their help, but they just watched their girl being the badass they knew she was. “Listen, dumbass. You can insult me all you want because I couldn’t care less for your opinion about me, but—“ YN let her fingers grip tighter until he had trouble getting enough oxygen into his lungs. “—but don’t you dare and insult my men. I don’t take those lightly. Are we clear?” He nodded quickly, and she let go of him, a radiant smile now on her face. “Perfect. Then off you go now. Go go. Your little dolly is waiting over there, round eyes and all. You should check on her. That’s what you always could do best anyway.”

With a barely seen flick of her wrist, the books landed in her arm again, and with another smile, she turned to her two boyfriends, staring proudly down at her in her pretty sundress and her new possessions in hand. “I think I got everything I need for now,” she smiled up at them and let Steve grab the piling stack of books out of her arms to carry it for her.

Bucky pulled her into his side, his arm thrown over her shoulders and lips pressing kiss after kiss to the crown of her head as they followed Steve to the counter. “You didn’t have to do this, doll.” It was only a mumble, and YN almost didn’t hear it but caught up to it just in time to look up at him and wrap both arms around his middle. “Yes, I had to. No one is talking like that about my boys in front of me, ever. You wouldn’t take shit about me either, won’t you? You wouldn’t allow it.” He stopped to wrap both arms around his best girl and pulled her into his chest, bending his head to kiss both her cheeks and the tip of her nose. “You know we would never take anyone’s shit about you, doll. Never. Even if it’s minor, we would step in and stop it.” The thought alone that anyone would hurt her, physically or mentally, almost broke him. No, they would always protect their best girl; the cost didn't matter. It would always be them against the entire world.

Her smile illuminated the shop, and he oh so willingly let his face get pulled down by her fingers wrapped around his chin to be kissed once again. He would never get enough of her, either. “See?” She now grinned and grumbling, he caved and nodded. “Okay, Okay, I see your point, doll,” he finally muttered, a smile tucking at his lips nonetheless because he could never be mad at her.

Giggling, YN received the paper bag full of new books—even though she still had piles over piles of TBRs waiting at home—and let Bucky take it out of her hands, so she could walk in between her two super soldiers and hold each of their hands. But instead of following them on their familiar route after a successful book shopping tour, she gently but urgently pulled at their hands to make them turn right instead of left. Steve furrowed his brows and looked down at her, not really knowing what was wrong. “Baby girl? The coffee shop is this way.” He already softly pulled at her hand, always having his strength in check. “But I don’t wanna go there,” she started, and immediately, both grew worried again. It wasn’t like her not wanting her iced coffee alongside her new books, so she could sit in the sun and start reading. Steve’s thoughts already wandered to the bookshop situation, blaming it on Chandler and wanting to beat him up just like the boys back in the day beat him up. “If it’s because of him, we’ll make sure that he leaves if he’s even there,” Steve promised with an undertone, ready to move heaven and earth for their woman, but the shake of her head stopped him right there. “No! No, I just wanna… Well, maybe it’s because of him, but not because I’m upset about it, but because you are clearly upset about it. So, I just wanna head home, order some food, and read in bed while cuddling with you. Would that be alright?”

She looked from one towering man to the other and let her eyes fall shut as they both pulled her in, wrapping her in their wonderfully tight hugs. She let them kiss her in the middle of the sidewalk and felt loved and cherished to an extent that wasn’t possible before Steve and Bucky entered her life.

“Of course, doll.”

“Whatever you want, baby girl.”

But deep down, Bucky and Steve couldn’t get over the fact how perfect their best girl was.

* * *

Thank you for reading (even though it wasn’t the best thing ever written)! As usual: reblogs would be absolutely great, just as overall love for this piece, and I’d love to read whatever you thought while reading!

[eff4freddie]

After She Left | Thirteen

Words: 6.4k

Joel and Tommy head to the town to search for Ellie, not knowing the danger they're heading into. Furious, you ride with Shauna, hoping to find Ellie and intercept Joel before any infected find them first.

Chapter warnings: Description of death by suicide, canon-typical violence, blood, Shauna's a piece of shit (again)

Twelve | Series Masterlist | Fourteen

Joel had felt this before; this twinning, this divergence. Needing to be in two places at once.

Had felt it as he held Sarah in his arms, needing to stay in the moment with her, to breathe with her as she gasped out her last, and also to run, to evaporate, to pump his legs as fast and as far as they could carry him. Away from the smell of her blood on his clothes. Away from the silence, the stillness, in her little body as he held her.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her so quiet. She arrived, screaming from her mother’s womb and into his warm arms, and didn’t stop squawking until she departed, his arms quaking around her. He blinked away the memory, his stomach churning.

He needed to be in the town. He needed to be in the moment, scanning the road for any sign of Ellie. He needed to breathe.

‘Easy, brother,’ Tommy called from two horse-lengths behind him. ‘We need to watch for any signs of her.’

‘She’s a fast walker,’ Joel pushed out through his straining jaw. ‘Even more so when she’s angry. We gotta…we gotta get there, Tommy.’

‘We don’t even know she came this way,’ Tommy reasoned, but Joel shrugged this off. He’d seen the way Shauna had been hiding something, had been the only one to see it. She knew something he didn’t, yet. About the town. About Ellie.

The two brothers rode in silence, Joel doing his best to keep his eye on the path. He didn’t see any tracks, but he’d taught Ellie better than to walk out in the open. Out here the road was wider, the trees set further back. She would have been smart about it, making her way through cover.

‘Why did you fuckin’ do this…’ he pondered aloud, his thoughts suddenly too loud to stay tucked up in his head. He heard his brother scoff behind him, even over the pelting of the horse’s hooves.

‘Really, Joel?’ he asked, causing Joel to pull up on the reigns, ease the horse into a canter, letting his brother catch up beside him.

‘The fuck does that mean?’ he asked.

‘You can’t think of a single reason why Ellie might have taken off? Not one single person who might have given her a reason to run?’

Joel held the reigns firm in his hands as he stared hard at the ground. Of course he could.

‘They were startin’ to get along,’ Joel said. Tommy stared at him, even as they rode.

‘Were they?’ Tommy asked. ‘Or did you just stop lookin’?’

Joel felt the back of his throat go dry. ‘Easy, brother,’ he said, by way of a warning. But Tommy was having none of it.

‘Ya selfish fuck,’ he said, simply. Joel turned his head to his brother, blinking at him. He hadn’t noticed how worked up Tommy was, how hard he was holding his own reigns.

‘Tommy, I…’

‘I know… “because of Sarah”,’ Tommy groaned. Joel could see he was upset, now, agitated and wiping hard at his cheek. ‘But you had another chance, with Ellie, and with Teach if you wanted it. You let it all go to shit for Shauna, even after everything she did.’

It would have been less painful, Joel considered, if he just turned himself inside out, so strong was his instinct to crowd in on himself.

‘I…’ he started, but trailed off. He didn’t have the words to fight, knew that his brother was right, in an insane moment almost resented him for not saying something sooner, before Joel had let everything decay.

‘You’re not the only one who lost her,’ Tommy said, after a while, quiet. His voice carried on the wind, echoing against the wood, the trees.

‘You ain’t lost a daughter,’ Joel grit out, misplaced fury flashing hot across his sternum. ‘You ain’t got any idea what you’re talkin’ about.’

‘Don’t I?’ Tommy asked, and he turned to his brother, then, let him see his face. The tears tracking down his skin, the red of his eyes. ‘I know she wasn’t my daughter, Joel, but she was my family. Saw her nearly every damn day. Loved her just the same as you.’

Joel felt his jaw tic. ‘No one loved her the same as me,’ he said, but he could feel the venom leaking away, leaving only the desolation in its wake.

‘But I loved her, Joel. You gotta know that.’

Joel did know it. Remembered the way Tommy had pulled him along, for months, and then for years, after Sarah’s death. Kept him going, made him eat, stayed up all night keepin’ watch just so that Joel could toss and turn in his bed and cry out for his girl. Through all of it he knew Tommy was hurting, too, swept up in the same wave of grief that had near obliterated him. But it was that same crashing water, that same briny foam over his head, that stopped him from helping his little brother, that stopped him from guiding him through it. That had made it impossible for them to be together like they had been, easy and fun and oblivious to the true horrors of the world.

‘I think about losin’ Robin,’ Tommy said, pulling Joel from his thoughts.

‘Don’t…’ Joel said, raising a hand to stop him.

‘I do! I fuckin’ do! You think you’re the only one…’

‘No, I mean don’t think about that,’ Joel interrupted, the fight gone clean out of him, his shoulders slumped. ‘Trust me on that, little brother. Don’t think about it, don’t imagine it. It’ll eat ya up f’ya let it.’

The two rode in silence, the road winding down the slope towards the town. Just over the tree line they could make out some crumbling roofs edging the valley.

‘You remember my Michael Jordan basketball?’ Tommy asked, suddenly, his voice distant as he stared out over the valley.

‘Your what?’ Joel asked, happy for the distraction but confused all the same.

‘My Michael Jordan basketball? Had it signed and all, Dad bought it back from Chicago for my eighth birthday.’

Joel had a distant memory of it – red and black in the Bulls colours. He’d only ever caught glimpses of it, had only been allowed to touch it once, and even then only after Tommy had supervised him washing his hands.

He grinned at his brother. ‘You loved that thing,’ he said.

‘I did, my most prized possession,’ Tommy agreed. ‘That thing made me happier than anything else in the world.’

Joel nodded as they started to ease down the slope, his eyes still watching the road for any sign of Ellie. They started to pick up the pace.

‘I hardly ever saw you play with it,’ Joel observed, and Tommy tutted at him.

‘That’s just the thing, brother,’ he said. ‘Something that precious, you can’t play with it. You gotta keep it safe and clean in your closet, gotta bury it under old – but clean – clothes, in case your dumbass older brother comes snoopin’.’ At this Joel huffed out a laugh. ‘You gotta…protect it,’ Tommy finished.

Joel nodded at this. ‘Makes sense.’

‘But then you can’t enjoy it,’ Tommy went on. ‘You spend all that time with it locked away, you never get to bounce the damn thing.’

Joel felt, for a moment, that he’d been tricked. He swallowed tar and glue down his throat, felt sawdust stuck to the roof of his mouth, collecting behind his teeth.

‘What happened to it, in the end?’ he asked, and Tommy sighed.

‘It deflated, then it warped. The rubber went kind of weird and it never looked right again.’ Tommy urged his horse forward, picking up the pace again as the road levelled out. ‘I left it in there. Didn’t feel I could get rid of it, but lookin’ at it made me sad.’ 

His little brother was right. Of course he was right. All this time he’d kept it buried under a pile of old clothes: beating but bleeding out through the cotton, protecting it, protecting her. Even after she was long gone. All that time his heart hidden at the back of the closet, stashed to keep the pain away, and taking all the goodness with it.

At the time, it had felt like saving himself. Locking it all away, letting it warp in the darkness, not caring that it took with it all the kindness, all the tenderness, not caring that without it the world turned almost entirely to grey. He had no use for colours without Sarah. Had no use for light.

Then one day he’d felt you, standing just outside the door, your hand pressed gently to the wood. He’d wanted you there and also couldn’t tolerate it. Craved you and stood, terrified, in your way. It had been too long, and he wasn’t even sure what it looked like in there anymore. Couldn’t account for what you might find.

Then Shauna had shown up and pulled the damn thing off its hinges, rifled around in there, hurled everything out of their drawers. He’d hurt so many people he’d cared about trying to shove it all back in again. Trying to bury it. Trying to hide.  

And now, Ellie was gone. And you were out there, out in the wilderness beyond the wall, trying to find her, and he and his brother were riding into God knows what to pull her back. He cleared his throat trying to let out the sob but there was no masking it, the little whimper sneaking away over the top of his breath as he felt his brows saddle.

‘Jesus…’ he said. The way he had let her banish herself to the studio in the garage. The way he had known it was wrong and he’d let her do it anyway, just to keep the peace. Just to keep pushing it all down, the anger and the loss and the despair of it. ‘Tommy, I…’ he started, but he didn’t have the words for it, could speak for a thousand years and never find them.

His brother leant over and put a firm hand on Joel’s knee.

‘I’m so sorry…’ Joel sobbed, his voice catching on the words.

‘It’s OK, brother,’ Tommy assured him. ‘We’ll always be family.’

‘Yeah, but my girls…’ Joel said, feeling his heart kick up at the thought of you both. ‘Jesus Christ, Tommy, I’ve hurt my girls.’

You, grinning from his table in his kitchen after he finally made some decent mac and cheese. You, under Ellie’s paper stars in the mess hall, making magic for teenagers out of twenty-year old school supplies and determination. You, holding his arm and helping him breathe through it after he’d found Ellie’s studio empty, when the world opened up and swallowed him whole.

Your face fallin’ as you realised the eggs were a consolation prize. Your sweet body pressed against his as you practically begged him to stop hurtin’ ya, to leave you be. All the little ways he’d failed you, so wrapped up trying not to fail a girl dead twenty years.

‘You love her,’ Tommy observed, watching his brother’s face fall as he reckoned with all he’d avoided for so long.

‘Course I do, she’s practically my daughter,’ Joel muttered, blinking hard to clear away the tears.

‘Not her,’ Tommy said.

Joel felt little sparks across his chest. The kind that come from exposed wires, that start house fires in the dead of the night. ‘Yeah,’ he said, eventually, because he knew even then there was no sense in denying it, that his body wouldn’t let him even if his mind tried.

Tommy nodded, the two brothers falling into silence as they approached the outskirts of the town. For the first time in a while, he felt like his big brother was back.

--

Some of the houses looked well enough maintained that for a moment Joel struggled to remember the twenty years of decay. There didn’t seem to be any pattern to it; two houses in a row could be decrepit, roofs collapsing under the weight of rotten wood and the third almost entirely intact, as if the occupants were just called away for a surprise holiday that went longer than expected. It unnerved him, the unpredictability of it.

Proceeding on foot, the two brothers rounded on the town from the South, down behind what once would have been a soccer field, the bleachers standing untouched for decades, the paint peeling in the breeze.

The mud beneath their boots muffled their footsteps, but their progress was still frustratingly slow, if silent. Joel could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing, could feel the way his pulse thrummed erratic and needy in his chest. He wanted to bellow for Ellie, wanted to rip any man, woman or child between him and his daughter limb from limb. He saw the worried looks Tommy shot him from over his shoulder, both men inching forward with rifles raised. There were signs of activity, a campfire long snuffed out, fading tracks in the dirt. Joel had a sense for it, anyway, honed over years. Knew when he wasn’t alone. His eyes scanned the windows, watched for movement in the curtains, for reflections or shadows in the wrong places.

It was still. Quiet. Joel swallowed on a rough throat.

‘Something’s not right,’ Tommy hissed to him, his whisper catching on the wind. Joel nodded at him, held up a hand to be quiet. If they could get to higher ground they could survey the perimeter better, could figure out a plan of attack. He looked at the crumbling roof of what used to be the local library. Joel didn’t like the chances of standing on a shifting roof tile and breaking his neck, of making enough of a ruckus just trying to get up high enough to be able to look down.

Wordlessly, he gestured to Tommy to go left behind the library, while he went right towards what he guessed was the centre of the town. Tommy shook his head, a combination of terror and frustration on his face, but Joel knew it would be better to cover more ground. He wasn’t sure she was here, but if she was he knew he had to get her out, get to you, get you both to safety. Then, maybe, he could breathe.

His boots slipping in the mud, Joel went right, picking his way through abandoned cars and rotting fences until he came up behind a two-story wooden building with a crumbling staircase out the back. One hand still holding his rifle over his shoulder, he opened the door and stepped back, flush to the wall, listening for any outcry. Willing his hands to stop trembling he counted to five under his breath, before cocking the rifle over his shoulder and swinging his torso in through the door.

It looked like it had once been a post office, the backroom stuffed with dry paper and mildew. He could tell any packages had already been pilfered, that desperate travellers had already split open every box in the place to rifle for anything to eat, to drink, to trade. All that was left behind was ancient bills, handwritten notes to loved ones, letters hawking insurance. The air was heavy from the dust and the decay of drying paper and Joel stifled a cough into his sleeve. There were patterns in the dust, swirls of footsteps leading to the front counter, and Joel tracked them through to the shopfront. As he inched forward he saw on the ground a collection of blankets, a stained pillow, a book or two piled up neat in a pile. He nudged the heap with his foot, his rifle trained on it in case it made any sudden moves. The air was stale, the room draughty and unlived in for some time. Whoever had been here was long gone, Joel thought. Or at least, hadn’t been able to return.

A creak behind him caught his attention and before he’d even had time to consider it, he swivelled, rifle raised, to the direction from which he had just come. Tommy immediately raised his hands, eyebrows high enough to reach his hairline.

‘It’s me…’ he hissed, and Joel rolled his eyes, lowering the rifle to the floor.

‘I told you to go left’ he whispered, the sharpness of his words spearing the dust motes floating in the sunlight between them.

‘I did, but I don’t think we should split up. Something’s wrong out here, brother,’ Tommy said, and Joel could see he was scared, the way his eyes were darting around the room. Joel stepped back, revealing the heap of blankets at his feet.

‘What the fuck…’ Tommy muttered, coming closer to inspect it before Joel held out a hand to his chest and pushed him back.

‘Easy…’ he said, Tommy immediately shrinking back behind his brother.

‘Where’d they go?’ he asked.

‘Don’t know yet,’ Joel said. In front of him the front windows were boarded up, sheets of old paper stuck to the glass. Little shafts of light shone through the gaps. He shuffled forward, careful not to trip, and raised his eye to it, gazing out at the main street.

It appeared still. He shuddered. Wondered if he would have preferred someone to be out there just to ease the tension currently clawing at his throat.

He tried the door, and it creaked on its hinges as it swung open.

He felt Tommy behind him, coming up over his shoulder, lifted his rifle as they prepared to step out.

 --

Even as the horse galloped underneath you, even as the breath was knocked from your chest every time the hooves hit the ground, you yelled over your shoulder to Shauna. To keep up, to hurry, to tell you what she knew about the layout of the town.

You could feel the rage in your belly, but you needed to find a way to tamp it down, to concentrate, as you headed down the road at full speed. Approaching from the west you could make out the way the streets curled around each other, cul de sacs that would make it impossible to see or hear from one end of the street to the other. Perfect places to hide out, but complicated to search.

You could see tracks, now, occasional footprints in the dirt beside the road, and it spurred you on even as the fear licked at your chest.  

‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ you screamed over your shoulder, your voice carrying in the wind.

‘You seemed so sure!’ Shauna called back, grunting under the strain of trying to stay upright on her horse. ‘I thought you knew her better than me.’

‘You couldn’t even mention it? That Joel and Tommy were heading into a nest of infected?’

‘I don’t know that they are, maybe they’ve all moved on…’

‘Shauna for fucks sake,’ you muttered, biting down hard on your teeth to stop the fury racing up your throat, clouding your vision. ‘Just tell me the fucking truth for once,’ you called to her.

‘I was scared, OK? I’m a bad shot. I thought…if there’s infected down there, who better to send than Joel and Tommy?’

You let out a shaky breath, trying again not to let the rage take over, instead scanning the horizon as the town loomed closer.

‘What was I supposed to do?’ Shauna continued. ‘Let’s be real, honey. I’m not the heroic type.’

‘There was so much you could have done,’ you said, pulling your horse up to slow, decaying fences and overgrown backyards appearing in front of you. ‘You could have fucking warned them, you could have been honest with Ellie in the first place. You could have…you could have told me when we were hours in to following the fucking river!’

‘OK, I’m sorry, I thought it was safer out of the way…’ Shauna said, struggling to manage her horse even at a slower pace. You reached over and held her horse’s reigns, pulling her along beside you.

‘You fucking coward,’ you said, suddenly exhausted. You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to will away the blooming ache behind your eyes.

‘Strategy,’ Shauna said, shrugging her shoulders. ‘You think you can make it this far in an apocalypse blundering into fights when you’re outgunned?’

‘So, you send other people to do your fighting for you.’

‘Other, more qualified people, sure.’

You pulled both of your horses up, slipping from the saddles. You took the second rifle from your horse.

‘Tell me you weren’t trying to get rid of Ellie,’ you said, point blank, staring her in the eye, as Rose cheered you on over her shoulder. ‘Tell me.’

Shauna glanced down at the rifle in your hands. ‘Of course I wouldn’t…’

‘Tell me. Say it. Say “I didn’t try to get rid of Ellie.”’

‘I didn’t try to get rid of Ellie,’ Shauna said, pouting.

You noticed the inflection. Weren’t surprised to hear it, not really. You knew Shauna’s type, the people who survive at FEDRA by being the biggest crabs in the barrel. Who pull others down to stand on their backs. Shauna may not have expressly set up the situation, not intentionally, but she was going to let it play out because she knew as well as anyone else that Joel wouldn’t withstand another loss like Ellie. Knew more than anyone that a weak man, a grieving man, a man so broken down by the world around him, is a man who will accept any arms willing to hold him.

‘You didn’t try to save her, either,’ you observed.

‘I’m here, aren’t I?’ she spat back at you. You nodded at her, throwing her the rifle.

‘Try not to shoot yourself in the ass,’ you said. You took a step forward, looking back at her over your shoulder. ‘Silent from now on. No more fucking talking.’

The road gave way to simple streets, little houses dotting the outskirts of the town. Over to the South you could make out a couple of taller buildings, maybe a library or a town hall. As much as you could, you stuck to the tall fences, hiding behind rotting fence palings and tree trunks thickened over twenty years uninterrupted by mankind. Above your head telephone wires blew free from their poles, waving like ribbons in the wind.

It would grow dark and cold before long. You shivered, scanning the houses for any sign of life. On this side of town things seemed more weather-beaten. You guessed that no-one, not even the raiders, had inhabited this area in a long while.

You saw Shauna waving to you out of the corner of your eye and you turned to her. She pointed to the end of the road, where it curved left towards the rest of the town. You nodded at her, watching as she fumbled the rifle in her shaking hands.

Following her, and putting more faith in her than she deserved in the process, you came around behind a motel. As she ducked down behind a dumpster you followed, squatting beside her so she could whisper in your ear.

‘That was where we were camped, in the motel. Another couple of rooms over was where the…others turned.’

You nodded, noticing now that some of the motel doors were ajar. The air smelt of rot and dirt, and you weren’t sure if it was the smell of the fungus or just general suburban decay. You watched for a while, the stillness setting your teeth on edge.

‘Were there others?’ you asked, and she nodded.

‘There was another camp, out by the gas station.’

You looked back at the motel. The breeze was blowing a curtain through an open window. Other than that, there was nothing to say anyone, or anything, was home.

‘We’ll try there,’ you said. Shauna nodded, gathering herself to stand.

‘It’s down behind the main street,’ she whispered, as you glanced up at the sky. You estimated you had maybe an hour before you’d need to find somewhere safe to camp overnight.

‘Should we try and find Joel?’ she asked you, and you shook your head.

‘No, we cover more ground split up.’

‘What if they’ve already found her?’ she asked, and you steadied yourself.

‘Then when we’re done searching we go back to Jackson, and we’re all very happily reunited with the girl we all care so much about,’ you hissed back. You could feel the top lip curling, exposing your teeth.

Shauna nodded, seeming for the first time to sense your fury.

‘Are you going to tell him?’ she asked, and you could see fear there. You stood up, pulling her with you.

‘Where’s the gas station?’ you whispered, and let her lead you on.

--

On the other side of town, Tommy and Joel were attempting to silently jimmy open the door to what appeared to be the town butcher. Joel felt his stomach roiling, steeling himself for what they might find inside.

‘You sure about this?’ Tommy muttered, and Joel shook his head.

‘Not at all, but we’re goin’ in anyway,’ Joel whispered back. He knew how cool rooms could be turned into cells. What things could be hung up on meat hooks.

Twenty years of neglect finally won out over the bolt, and the door swung open. Swinging his rifle over his shoulder Joel instead reached for his knife. In such close quarters the weapon would be useless, and he was suddenly realising he didn’t want to draw the attention of the rest of the town.

Beside him, Tommy sniffed. ‘Y’smell that?’ he whispered, and Joel nodded. Blood. Not fresh, but enough of it to still be lingering in the air. He held his finger to his lips to indicate silence. Tommy nodded, his eyes wide and adjusting in the dark.

Joel navigated around the counter to the back, stepping carefully over broken glass and trash. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a smattering of blood, droplets dried and tarry, leading from the main room to what he guessed was the cool room behind the door. Tucking his nose in under the neck of his shirt he silently pulled the handle.

The smell was overwhelming, the copper and bile. At first Joel thought the man had hidden himself away, that he had been running from his attackers. But then it didn’t make sense that he had bled to death, surrounded as he was by sticky clouds of dried blood. Maybe he had been dragged in here and left after an injury, maybe some kind of punishment, whatever might count for justice at the end of the world.

Joel saw it, then, the bloodied knife on the floor by the man’s hand. The clean slice of his wrist, travelling almost all the way up to his forearm.

‘Joel…’ Tommy said, peering in over his brother’s shoulder. ‘The ankle.’

And then it made sense, the bite mark peeking out from under the man’s pant leg.

‘He took himself off here to…’

‘In case the knife didn’t work, so he wouldn’t hurt anyone, I guess,’ Joel finished for his brother. Cool rooms make effective cells because they rarely have handles on the inside. Many an enterprising raider had discovered that fact in the last twenty years.

Bile rose in Joel’s throat and he swallowed it down. He wasn’t sure why it was, even after all these years, even after everything he’d done, that the scene in front of him was getting to him. Something about the way the man had tried to protect the others. Something about the sacrifice, the locking himself away to face the end on his own. Something about the love and the fear in it.

He turned away before it could work any further under his skin.

‘We should keep goin’,’ he said to Tommy, who nodded but still hadn’t looked away, eyes a little misty even in the darkness of the room around them.

Back out on the street the brothers considered their options. There had been only scant signs of life, and no sign of Ellie. Both were aware of the dwindling light, but the man in the cool room had been bitten, which meant there was still a threat.

‘I ain’t goin’ back,’ Joel said, as if he could read his brother’s mind. Tommy nodded.

‘We can hole up somewhere here tonight if we gotta,’ he agreed. ‘Should we go back and get the horses?’

Joel shook his head. ‘We keep searchin, wanna clear the main street at least. Then we go back to the horses, find a house with a garage, hide ‘em away til sunup.’

If Tommy had asked him, Joel wouldn’t have been able to say how he was so calm. He wondered if it was just years of survival, years of workin’ against impossible odds to stay alive. Wondered if his brain hadn’t caught up yet, that some part of him wasn’t even fully aware of what was actually going down. Wondered if it was knowing you were out there, searchin’ for his girl, that you were as stubborn as he was and loved Ellie nearly as much, that you wouldn’t give up on her, would never give up on her, and that between the two of you you’d have to bring her home.

--

You blinked cold air out of your eyes, straining to hear above Shauna’s sodden footsteps beside you. She held her rifle loosely, too loosely, as you gripped yours. She sighed, loud enough to attract attention, and you glared at her. Guilty, she shrugged, which you guessed was her best attempt at an apology.

You were making achingly slow progress, the bulk of the town behind you as you inched towards the gas station on the far perimeter. You didn’t like how exposed you were, even as you stayed close to walls and fences. Shauna was crap at checking her six, and your neck was aching from having to check it for her.

The light was dying, cold setting in. You shivered as the wind whispered your name.

You blinked, turning to Shauna. The other woman, distracted, was watching the road. You held still, straining your ears.

‘Teach…’ you heard, your heart hammering in your chest.

Taking three or four unwise steps into the centre of the road you swivelled your head, trying to locate her. Finally, just when you’d decided you were actually going mad, her little head popped up over the edge of a two-storey building to your left. It looked like it had once been a doctor’s office. The red of the door was peeling away to expose the wood.

‘Ellie!’ you stage whispered, waving your hands over your head as if she hadn’t already seen you, as if she hadn’t been smart enough to get to higher ground, to survey the area while keeping out of sight.

‘Ssssh!’ she motioned to you with her hands. You grabbed Shauna before she could take another muddled, deafening step, directing her gaze to the rooftop. You watched her eyes widen as she took in the teenager.

You were proud of her. So proud at her survival instinct, at her quick thinking. You beamed up at her, relief surging through your belly before you realised she wasn’t smiling back, was instead motioning to something around the corner. You saw the panic on her face.

‘What?’ you mouthed to her, and she rolled her eyes in return, because she was still, even in these most extreme circumstances, Ellie. Standing more fully upright she pantomimed a clicker, gnashing teeth and curled fingers and all, before gesturing again to the corner.

‘Oh fuck,’ Shauna whimpered beside you, and you clamped a hand over her mouth.

‘How many?’ you mouthed to Ellie, who held up two fingers. You shuddered. One you might have been able to handle, but two would require the participation of the woman you currently held gagged in your arms.

As silently as possible you let Shauna go, motioning for her to stay put, and came forward, spying a dumpster pushed up against a wall you could just vault yourself onto. Slinging the rifle over your shoulder you watched as Ellie disappeared behind the eaves of the building, reappearing at the gutter above you as you stretched on tippy toes towards her.

‘I can’t reach you…’ she whispered, her hand outstretched, before you shook your head, instead pulling your rifle around to the front of your body and handing it up to her. She shook her head, face going pale even in the fading light, but you insisted, bouncing on the balls of your feet to make her take it.

‘Be safe…’ you whispered to her. ‘Stay out of sight. Joel is coming.’

‘What about you?’ she whispered back, but you were already moving away, climbing down as quietly as you could to the cracked pavement below.

Shauna’s eyes were wide, watching the scene play out in front of her. She gripped her own rifle harder now, holding it fast to her chest, as if terrified you were going to pull it from her. As you made your way back to her, preparing to pull her back to the horses, back to safer ground, she took a step away.

‘Why did you give her that?’ she hissed, eyes swivelling between you and the corner.

‘She’s a good shot,’ you said, wondering if this was true but confident none the less that Joel would have taught her, wouldn’t have let her flounder, and that Ellie would have insisted on it even if he initially tried to resist.

Casting a look over your shoulder you saw her regain her position on the roof, her back to you as she watched the clickers around the corner.

‘We’ll find Joel, tell her where she is. So long as she’s up on higher ground she’s safe enough for us to get her out,’ you explained, as much as you could in a whisper, while you tried to grab Shauna and pull her away. As you took her arm you felt her shaking. You swallowed. You could see, now, the white knuckles on the barrel of the rifle. The sweat dotting her brow.

‘Shauna, we’re OK,’ you said, as low as possible, hoping that the wind would quiet your voice enough. ‘Just breathe.’

Her eyes swivelled back to you, putting you in mind of a doe staring down the jaws of a bear. You hesitated, the panic in her eyes making your stomach turn.

You heard it, then. A high-pitched squeak, a footstep. You felt your breath catch in your chest, your head turning achingly slow to the corner. Above you Ellie waved silently, rifle over her shoulder, terror in her eyes.

‘Oh shit…’ Shauna whimpered again, too loud, but you were frozen, unable to clamp your hand on her mouth again.

It had been so long since you’d seen one, and you weren’t sure you’d ever seen a clicker properly in the daylight. The bloom of fungus from the side of its head, obliterating its left eye, put you in mind of the coral you had tried to teach your students about, before Joel had whittled you a few visual aids. It lurched from side to side as it moved, one ankle twisted almost completely in the wrong direction, its clothes torn across its torso. It had been a man, a young man, you realised.

You could have sworn you’d seen that shirt before. Fleetwood Mac, the same as the one Tommy owned, before his belly grew from general safety and particularly proximity to the mess hall, and he donated it to the Jackson clothes swap. They used those clothes for when newcomers showed up with nothing. Like Shauna had. Like Steven, and Wren.

You felt your eyes start to water. Wren.

Unaccountable anger flashed up your spine then, jolting you into turning your back to him, rounding on Shauna. You wanted to scream at her, wanted to throttle her right there in the street, grab her chin and make her watch as he lurched towards them, the sum total of all her shitty decisions to this point.

But the sight of Wren had steeled something in her, too, you saw. The panic was gone, replaced instead with something colder, something burning brighter. You almost thought you saw a smirk appear on her quivering lips.

Gripping the gun to her chest she wrestled her arm free of you, with enough force to send you reeling, your arms wheeling around your body to stop yourself falling heavy to the ground. You righted yourself, staring deep into her eyes as she backed away. Somehow now she was moving more silently than she had all day, her eyes trained on you as you heard Wren lurching, sniffing at the air, behind you. He was maybe twenty paces away, swivelling, taking one or two steps in one direction, turning around and doubling back.

You stared at Shauna as she retreated from you. She was going to leave you here, was going to make off with the only weapon either of you had. She was going to let you be bit, was going to do nothing to stop it, was going to let you be the bait while she made it out. She was going to tell Joel it was an accident, that she couldn’t help you, say that Ellie didn’t have a good enough vantage point to see it the way she did.

And she would fucking smile as she did it.

You turned your head back to Wren, seeing that he had managed to advance several paces. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Ellie drawing her rifle, aiming for him, but you frantically motioned for her to stop. There was another clicker loitering somewhere beneath her and the shot would draw their attention, and if they crowded around the building she would have no way to get down.

You felt something still within you, something lift from your chest. For a moment you let your gaze drift up and away from the street to the mountain beyond you, watched the way the dusk turned the snow pink and orange in the last light of the day.

You supposed you had already decided, didn’t need to confer with Rose. You knew, standing in the middle of the street in that moment, that you would draw them to you, take off in a sprint past Wren and lead the other away from the building, hopefully far enough that Ellie could get back to your horse. With both horses and both rifles she and Shauna had a pretty good chance of making it back to Jackson.

Joel would have his girl back. You could be with Rose.

You considered, in this moment of calm, that perhaps it had all been leading to this. You crouched, readied yourself to sprint, shifted your weight to the balls of your feet.  

Ellie’s voice rang out above your head, clear as a bell and straight as an arrow to the street below her. ‘HEY YOU FUCKERS, COME AND GET ME!’  she yelled, stealing the breath from your lungs.

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed

@vickie5446

@kaseyconnour

@orcasoul

@missladym1981

@spacesoutdaydreamer

@tangled-tumbler-blog-blog

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@millersamour

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@wand-erer5

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@wand-erer5

[lokideservesahug]

A Whole New World

Part of the 𝓕1 𝓕𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓼𝔂 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader (Aladdin AU)

Warnings: No descriptions of reader except she has hair, sexism, Abu is actually Max Fewtrell

Notes: Here is the first of two parts for the Lando/Aladdin au. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Princess Y/N has turned down many suitors over the years. So why is it that a certain 'Street rat' has captured her attention?

Word Count: 4.1 k

Part 2

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Throughout your entire life, all you have known is the confinement of the Palace walls you were raised in. You understand why you were kept in the grounds of the palace but it didn't make things any more exciting.

So with that train of thought, you devise a cunning plan one morning. No one could let you leave the Palace... but practically,  could leave if no one knew. So that's what you did. You waited until the right day came (when the guards that always fell asleep were on rotation).

For a place that was wanted to be so "heavily guarded", it was surprisingly easy to sneak out. All it took was a moth-bitten, aged brown robe of your mother's, may she rest in peace, and a calculated amount of agility (that was all but taught to you in your lessons of grace and decorum as a child). When you finally step foot outside the Palace for the first time in your life, you are left awestruck.

Colossal warm-toned pillars towered over you; despite your power in the country, they make you feel insignificant.

Despite this foreign territory, you find that the city is easy enough to navigate, just as long as you remember the way you came. City life was unsurprisingly bustling yet the unfamiliar loud noises make you smile rather than wince. It truly was a nice contrast to your regular surroundings.  When you eventually reach the centermost part of the town, a plethora of market stands decorated in all sorts of attention-catching fabrics line every corner. As you trek further, someone runs past you, pushing you slightly to the side. When you turn to berate them, however, you see that it's only one of many children playing - by running slightly too fast.

Your heart warms at the sight. However, your attention was drawn to a pair of boys, no older than about 8 standing in place, longingly staring at the baker's cart. You crouch down to their level and think about how best to approach this interaction with the first stranger you've spoken to in years.

"Oh gosh. Are you hungry?" You ask the scrawny boys. The taller of the two looks at you and the wordless answering his eyes is enough to act. You grab a loaf of bread from the cart to your side and hold it to the boy staring at you in what now appears to be awe. "Here. Take some bread." At your actions, the pair light up like children on Christmas day and proceed to run off with a newfound pep in their steps.

As you watch them run off, you hear a new voice begin to shout. "Hey! You are stealing from me?" Left dumbfounded at his words, you try and utter a response. "Stealing? No, I was just-" The man doesn't even begin to let you explain your actions as he cuts across you "Well you have not paid!" You see his eyes give you a quick one over as he continues "You either pay, or I take your bracelet."

Once more, you try and explain your predicament. "Sir I don't have any money" At your words, he grabs your bracelet-clad arm and begins to try and pry your jewelry from you. "Let go of me!" Despite your words, the man does not stop his attempts at removing your accessory. Your aggressor once more goes to shout in your face when suddenly, someone steps between you and the vendor. "Woah, take it easy man."

"Kalil walks away from the stall and she" The added emphasis on the pronouns makes you shrink into yourself "steals the bread." "Those children were hungry" This man's behaviour was outrageous. How can he be so cruel to those so unfortunate?

"Those children were starting. I did no-"

"OK. Just give me a second" After he speaks, your 'saviour' turns to you as the man behind him says "Keep your street rat nose out of my business! Huh?" The younger man turns to you again and asks in a soft, quiet tone "Do you have any money?" "No!" Your response comes as his hands easily find a place around your bracelet-clad wrist. "OK," His look becomes much more determined as he says his next words "Alright. Just trust me."

Before you can fully register his words he has turned around and you notice your bare wrist as he speaks to the vendor once more. "Here you go" You don't even have any time to protest. "This is what you wanted right?" He holds up your bracelet almost like a trophy and his actions make you sick to your stomach. The street vendor then sports a massive grin as he resounds to the man you thought was your Knight in shining armor. "Yes. Thank you." The younger man adds "Oh and an apple for your troubles."

By the time the fruit has left his hands, he has already turned and grabbed your wrist to swiftly guide you away. "Hey! That was my-" You let out a frustrated huff " I think not leaving without my bracelet." "You mean this bracelet?" The younger man all but huffs lowly. "Come on."

His actions leave you starstruck but as you hear the vendor shout, you begin to worry. "Lando. Thief! Lando." "Are we in trouble?" You turn to the man to your left. "Only if we get caught."

"Lando!" "Down that alley. The monkey knows the way." You'd been so wrapped up in the unwilling events that you had somehow managed to miss the monkey sitting on the man's (Lando you assume) shoulder. You can hear the vendor shout in the background but you're more focused on the freaking monkey moving from his shoulder to yours.

You go to protest but his gentle murder of reassurance that "You'll be fine" leaves you with no room to argue. As promised, the monkey really does know the way. You find yourself darting over and under places you never would have dreamed existed as you can hear the distant shouts and murmurs of the so-called "street rat's" escape.

As you dart around yet another corner, the man almost runs into you. Damn, he's good at this. You watch in amusement at his theatrics covering his elution of the guards. After kicking over some scaffolding with some Kingdom guards on, he turns to you. "Together on three." You repeat his words back to him to show your understanding. "We jump." "We jump?" There isn't much time for your confusion before he smiles and leans down. "There's no need to repeat everything I say"

He begins his counting and as he reaches the final "three!" He leaps from beside you. You look down at his safe landing but when he notices your absence and whips around to find you, you can't help but apologize. "I'm sorry. But I just can't do this." His eyes never leave yours despite the increasing volume of shouts "Look at me. You can do this." You spare a glance at the guards. Well, you have nothing to lose if you jump (aside from your life).

You aren't even fully aware of your feet leaving the ground or even your body in the air. Yet you certainly notice when you land tangled up with your savior. You glance nervously at the man and quickly detach yourself as he stands up and begins to run away. With no choice but to follow him, you find yourself running along rooftops and jumping (albeit smaller gaps) once again.

You lose sight of him for a moment but when you see the monkey from before look over and squeak at the edge, you begin to worry. That disputes when you see the man stick his head above the edge. "Let's go. I know somewhere where we'll be safe."

He leads you down to the ground once more. You can't help but stop and ask "Where are we?" His only response response "You'll see" as he grabs a rope. Suddenly, the sound of mechanical wiring fills your ears and in front of you where there used to be nothing, a set of stairs appears.

"Woah. Is this where you live?" He smiles in response to your words. "Yep. Just me and Max who come and go as we please." So Max is the name of his monkey you note. When you reach the top of the stairs, your eyes are greeted by a tremendous sight.

A giant cloth roof hangs over the brick space with smaller paper lamps hanging off the material. Your attention however is caught by the balcony on the far side of the space that you instantly rush to. You take in the city skyline for the first time properly. You shed your cloak as you began "I can't believe..." "What?" "I can't believe that we just did that. That we're even alive. With that chase and all of the running and jumping. It was amazing." "Tea?" He asks yet you don't focus on his words.

"Thank you. And thank you for getting me out of there... Lando? Was it?"

"Uhm You're welcome..." At his silence, you try and rack your brain for a quick lie. "Dalia! I... am Dalia" "Dalia. From the Palace?" Your eyes widen at his words. Oh no. "How could you tell?" "Well only someone from the palace would ever be able to afford a bracelet like that. Oh obviously and that silk lining is imported as well. It goes from the merchants at the Dock straight to the Palace. You look down as if you've been caught.

"At least not to servants" Oh no. He really was good. "Well, not to most servants. Meaning you must be a handmaiden to the princess!" You let out a sigh of relief at his words. "Impressive." "If you think that's impressive, you need to see the city from up there." He points to a ledge above the balcony and you turn in excitement to view more of this spectacle. You climb up and look upon your city in awe. It truly is beautiful. You mumble to yourself about how you should get out more (the irony not being lost in your mind) but Lando overhears your words.

"You should tell the princess to get out more. No one has seen her in years." "They won't let her. Ever since my-" You catch yourself before eyes dully slip up "the queen was killed in cold blood the sultan has been terrified for the safety of his daughter. So she's kept locked away." "It seems everyone has been afraid since then. But the people really had nothing to do with it. The people truly loved her." You can't help yourself smiling "They did, didn't they?"

You pick up a small, guitar leaned up against the wall. "Is this yours?" Lando doesn't look you directly in the eyes as he responds. "Sort of, it's borrowed." You then begin to play a tune of your past. "My mother taught me that song" He sounds almost sorrowful as he says it. "Mine too.: "It's all I can remember of her." You frown at his words. "You say you live alone? What happened to your father?"  "I lost them both when I was extremely young. I've been on my own ever since. It's alright it's just..." "What?" He begins to make his way up the stairs to your level as he continues "It's a little sad. Having a monkey be the only authority figure in your life." His words cause you to laugh slightly. And for the first time since your meeting, you finally have the time to take in his features.

His brown hair juts out in many directions with one curl in the centre hanging over his forehead. His blue eyes staring at you are enchanting. As you look down during your chuckle, you can't but notice that (unsurprisingly with his lifestyle) his physicality isn't bad on the eyes either. His words bring you back to reality as he continues.

"It's just... sometimes I feel like I'm" "Trapped." You finish his words off, knowing exactly the feeling. You continue as his gaze fixes on you again "Like you can't escape what you were born into?" He murmurs a quiet "yes" whilst nodding. The two of you continue to stare into each other's eyes when you both hear the shouts of sailors coming to Dock. "Welcome Prince Anders" the guards exclaim. A giant extravagant ship, carrying a royal crest on the sail shatters your brief, calm fantasy.

"I have to get back to the Palace!" "This way." Lando nods to the way you came. And once again, you did yourself blindly following the man (after you pick up your cloak of course). You begin to gravel the way you came but with increased pace. Lando smiles behind you at your urgency. "It's just another prince coming to try and court the princess." You stop briefly. "Yes. And I need to prepare her... Oh! Do you have my bracelet?" "Yeah," He rummaged in his pocket whilst you scan the horizon to gauge how much time you have. "I'm sure I put I in here." His movements become more frantic as he tries to search for your lost jewelry. "Somewhere... Max, did you take it?" The monkey stares at him and just scratches his head.

"That was my mother's bracelet..." You feel almost, lost. "Yes. And it's truly beautiful." You suddenly come to a realization. "You are a thief." "Yes but-" "And I am so naïve" You quickly then away from him and begin to rush towards the Palace as a mix of disappointment and sadness swirl in your gut. You hear his shouts behind you but you can't even bring yourself to turn around and look at him.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

"Welcome Prince Anders" Your father's words become a blur as you stand at the top of the palace stairwell. You began to descend the stairs as you pondered. Your patience was growing thin with the amount of suitors coming to court you. It wasn't that you had an issue with marriage, it was just that you had an issue with the suitors that kept coming. Every single one was here for power (which you understood you suppose) but all had fatal character flaws. They were either too involved with the patriarchy or wanted 15 children or some other outlandish thing. You hadn't found the perfect suitor yet. You couldn't even think of what this perfect man would be like but you knew that you would just know. Your brain drifts momentarily to the blue eyes from earlier and you don't have any time to ponder on it before your father's words cut through your thoughts.

"Prince Anders, this is my daughter Y/N." You hear a gasp from the man now standing opposite you. "Wow. Why did no one tell me of your beauty?" "No one mentions yours either." Your words (arguably a jab) at the man only make him chuckle. " Oh! Thank you. They say that in Skånland. Yeah. Right?" He turns to his men behind him. They laugh with the prince but if it's genuinely funny to them or just to amuse their leader, you're unsure. "It is very amusing." "Is it?" Your words cut him off slightly. "We have the exact same title yet are never described the same way." Your father clears his throat and mutters your name as a warning.

The prince awkwardly nods his head in agreeance with your words when he suddenly spots your tiger growling slightly. "Oh! What is that? Wait, don't tell me. It is a cat... with stripes." A distant voice calls to the prince "He likes you." Once more, the prince continues to talk of his greatness by adding "Oh yeah! In Skånland, cats love me. Here kitty. Pst pst." He begins to approach your four-legged companion and with this, the tiger to your side begins to growl with increased volume. You aren't even looking at either of them when you hear a scream followed by many sets of laughter.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

After you kindly dismissed the prince with soft apologies and promises of friendship. You find yourself wandering the halls of the palace in search of your father. You assume that he is in his regular place in his office. But as you walk down the corridor, you hear shouts that you can't quite make out and then two murmurs of "Invading Shiribad is the" You cut across your father's words "Invade Shiribad?" You turn and look at the man accompanying your father. Jafar, your father's second in command and a true thorn in your kingdom's side sometimes. "Why on Earth would we invade the kingdom of my mother?" "We would never, ever invade Shiribad" At your father's agreement, you opt for a sharper glare to give Jafar. "But an ally I'm Skånland would improve our situation." You brush off his accusatory tone as your father answers him. "Yes. If you consider giving Prince Anders a chance-" "To rule? Father that man is power-hungry and clearly only cares about his own image. Even Rajah would make a better leader than him!" You point to the tiger sitting beside you. "My dear, I am not getting any younger and as more time passes, the urgency of finding you a husband increases. And we are running out of kingdoms."

At his chuckles you roll your eyes. "What...foreign prince could care for our people as I do? I could lead if..." "My dear, you can not be sultan. It has never been done in the 1,000-year history of our Kingdom." "I have been preparing for this my entire life. I have read every book possible, I have-" "Books?" Jafar finds a way to weasel know your conversation. "You can not read experience. Inexperience is lethal. People left unchecked will revolt. Both walls and borders will be attacked if left unguarded."

"Jafar is right. One day, you will understand. You can leave now." Your father's words cause you to huff in frustration but flee the room.

As you exit with Rajah following closely behind you, you hear footsteps pacing towards you. Rajah growls as Jafar says softly yet condescendingly "Life would be kinder to you princess. If you were to accept these traditions and understand that it is better for you to be seen rather than heard."

You refused to meet his eyes and after he was clearly done with his demeaning speech, you walked away to your Chambers.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

"Surely there is something I can do." You speak to your handmaiden, Dalia (the real handmaiden Dalia) as she rubs your shoulders. "Oh, what a hard life you lead. I wish I would have the struggle of having to choose which prince to marry. Oh, the tall and clever one or the clever and handsome one. A handsome prince wants to marry you, when will life get easier." You disregard her sarcastic tone "It's not that I don't want to marry. It's just... "You want to be sultan. But why would you with  life like yours?" You turn and smile at her. "Do you remember remember my mother used to say? We would only ever be as happy as" Dalia choruses the last few words as you say them " our least favorite subject." You paused. "If she saw what I did today she'd be shattered." Dalia takes your hands and gives you a sympathetic smile. "She would also want you to be safe. And clean, I'll draw a bath"

"Jafar's guards on every corner? What kind of dystopia are we living in? I can help." You then look at the woman now behind you. "I know I can. I was born for so much more determined just marrying some useless prince!" "If you had to marry a useless prince prince could certainly do much, much worse than this one. Who's tall and dreamy? And he may be a little bit dim but you're only getting married. It's not like you'd have to talk to him." You furrow your brows at her. "But you'd much prefer that boy from the market." You feel your cheeks heat up. She laughs as she walks off and you can't seem to find it in you to disagree with her words.

As promised, she leaves to go to the adjacent room and draw a bath for you. Suddenly, a loud knock cuts through the quiet night breeze. That's odd. There aren't usually visitors coming to see you at this time of night. You open the tall door (that is surprisingly light) and you are met with the same blue eyes that have been plaguing your thoughts all afternoon. You don't even register your gasp before he is asking the same thing as he asked you this afternoon. "Tea?" He smiles warmly at you. "You... You! What on Earth are you doing here?" The sound of guards growing nearer fills your ears. "Get in here." You grab him and push him into the room whilst also surveying the corridor.

"I needed to come and return your bracelet." You freeze momentarily at his words. "What? Where is it?" You can hear his subtle smirk as he says "Already on your wrist." You glance down and as promised, your mother's bracelet once more on your arm. You can hear Lando compliment your interior design choices but your biggest worry is "How did you slip past the palace guards?" He turns to look at you, tray of tea and saucers still in hand. "I'll admit, that was challenging. But I have my ways." Once more, an accomplished smile finds its way on his face.

"Whilst the princess is out, would you perhaps like to go on a stroll?" You almost forgot about the Alias you adopted later... "Have a little chat?" "You are unbelievable. You can't just break into a palace and begin to walk around like you own the place!" Despite your reprimanding him, you feel a slight smile tug on your lips at his sheer boldness. "Well, you have to act like you own everything if you own nothing... So what do you say? I did find your bracelet after all." "Find it? You were the one that stole it!" "Actually, the monkey stole it." "He's your monkey!" "He smirks and says "Still a monkey." His words make you laugh and you can't remember the last time someone made you this happy.

"Who ordered the tea?" You didn't even notice your handmaiden return but at Dalia's words, you both quickly spin to look at her. All Lando can muster is a simple "Uh..." Before you cut across him " I did!" You go to move behind Lando so you can subtly communicate with Dalia. "For you, Princess Y/N."  "Your majesty" Lando bows as Dalia shoots you a very confused look.  but you respond by pointing to your returned bracelet. "Why are you being weird?" Dalia's confusion annoys you. You were trying to keep this storyline up!

Lando turns and gives you an awkward smile in almost support of what he thought your predicament was. You try again. You point to your bracelet and then to Lando. As if by magic, her eyes light up in realization of what you were attempting to do. "Oh, I'm the princess...Yes" Her recovery isn't the best but it works "And it truly is good to be me with all of my fancy dresses, one for each minute of the day and my giant karts of gold things and palaces." You gesture at her to wrap up her truly painful attempt at a lie. "Now it is time for my cat to be cleaned. She walks away and you can't wait to laugh at her display later.

"She doesn't get out much." Lando just hums in agreement as he places the tea tray down. "Clearly." Your tiger then begins to growl at him. "Aren't you supposed to be in the bath?" Lando shoots you an uneasy look as the cat sniffs his hand. Before you can think on it too much, Dalia's voice is heard once again. "Oh servant girl, this cat isn't going to clean itself." "Don't cats clean themselves?" You turn to Lando, eyes wide "You have to go." "Alright. But I'm coming back tomorrow." You go to protest but he continues. "Meet me in the middle of the tea courtyard by the giant tree when the moon is above the highest branches. To return this." He pulls out your hairclip and he brushes a strand of hair away from your face. "I promise." You see him walk off and can't help but smile at him and his antics.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, a certain second in command to your father was alerted as Lando entered the palace and the guards had finally caught up to Lando. He looks at the head guard as the man gruffly speaks. "Evening." Lando can hear his voice break as he replies. "Even- good evening." He doesn't even need to ask to know that there are more guards behind him and he feels well and truly stuffed.

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

I hope you enjoyed this! As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Guiding Hand 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect, depression, inference of self harm, violence, abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your online academics are affected by your personal struggles but your professor won’t let you give up so easy.

Characters: Raymond Smith, Lee Bodecker in the background

Note: Happy Friday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The grocery store is a panoply of colours and sounds. You feel hollow as you lean on the cart and trawl the aisles. You won't fill it, you got it for support. Your legs are weaker by the minute.  

You balance out every credit in your shop. You can't go a dollar over the allotment. It isn't very much at the end. Better for you, you're worried about carrying it all. 

You swipe the card and crumple the list. You had to leave a few things off. You hook the bags over your shoulders, the effort further sending your burnt hand to pulse. As you come out onto the beaming light, you examine the tortured flesh peeking out. You unwind the fraying bandage and gasp, tears springing free as you peel it away from the sticky, stinky flesh. 

It stings in the open air. You keep it up against your chest and walk on. It's more of a lumber as your feet drag and your body moves stiffly. The sun beats down mercilessly and has you sweating despite the constant shiver rolling through you. 

You slow as you come in sight of your building. You look around cautiously, searching for the glasses and blond beard. Did he listen? Did he go away or is he lurking? Just like Lee, always waiting... 

You don't see him. The edges of your vision are so blurry, you can't be sure. You don't have the energy to worry about him. You just want to go back to bed. 

You cross the street and clumsily aim the keys at the slot. Through one door, then the next. You don't hear them catch behind you but you can only hear the echoing impact of each step. 

You stagger into the apartment and leave the chain to dangle, the latch flipped the wrong way. You trod into the kitchen but don't have the length to lift the bags onto the counter. You drop them on the floor and stare. You're so tired and you can't stop shaking. 

As you stand there, time and space pinpoints on you. You look around, the silence setting in. It's so quiet. You can't hear your mom. Or him.  

"Now aren't ya gon put that all away?" Lee drawls as his weight creaks in the floor. 

You nod without looking back and make a noise. You can't muster a single word. You bend to reach into a bag and take out the box of generic macaroni and cheese. You hobble to the counter and set it down, using your good hand to open the cupboard. You put it on the shelf and grasp the door. 

You're so dizzy. You lean on the counter and suddenly, the doors swinging shut. The edge hits your cheek and you yelp. You're crushed against the drawers as Lee pens you in from behind. 

"You're startin' to really tee me off. Takin' your time and all. Like you ain't good for nothin'," he snarls as you fold over the counter top. "Whatsa matter with you? You not gonna fight, huh?" 

He grabs a fistful of hair and wrenches your head back. You heave as your hand slaps painfully on the stained linoleum, the flesh radiating with flame. You whimper as his other hand creeps around your stomach. He pushes on your pelvis until his crotch is flush to your ass. 

"Let me show you what you're good for, huh?" He sneers and shoves his hand down the front of your pants. You whimper as he touches the coil patch of hair beneath, "mm, feel that? You want this. Ain't even got no panties." 

"Stop," you murmur as your head lolls from his grasp. 

"You'll be beggin' me not to in a minute," he snorts and forces his fingers between your thighs. 

"Sto-sto-stop!" You stammer out helplessly. 

"Now, you keep quiet. It won't be long," he leans into you until your hips ache, "teach ya to be disrespectful." 

He curls his fingers and scratches between your folds. You whine and gulp through your dry throat. Panic surges through your delirium as you reach back to claw with your injured hand. A shriek erupts at the the vibrant agony. 

"Ahhhhhh!" You wail, "mom! Mom! Help!" 

"She drank herself stupid already," he growls and nips at your ear, "just us, girl." 

"Mom!" You yelp as his fingers dip towards your entrance, his rough palm scraping against your soft flesh, "mom!" Your heart throbs and your head rings, "mom!" He pushes his fingertips through your tight slit and you erupt, "MOMMY!” 

Your knee hit the wood as you wriggle against him. You’re so weak. The walls close in as you feel yourself losing your grasp, not just on the counter but on the world. His fingers sink in deep, the callouses rough against your delicate walls. 

Suddenly, you’re jarred and the room tips over. You hit the tile in a heap and groan. Your fiery hand rests against the cool squares as your vision swirls and you hear huffing and puffing, grunts intermingled and the crack of violence. Thwack, thwack, thwack. 

Lee’s heavy figure hits the wall and his legs go out from under him as he slides onto his ass. You blink through the silty haze and shake your head. It’s all foggy and senseless. It wasn’t you who pushed him off. It can’t have been. 

“Mom,” you mutter as you try to sit up only to fall back as your hand burns with acid. Your blood is hot but your skin is ice. “Mom, what’s going on?” 

A dark shape bounces off of Lee’s jaw and red dribbles down his chin as he leans against the wall, slumping down onto his shoulder. You drone mindlessly as you bring your hand over your stomach and whine. It hurts so bad. The shadow moves to stand over you and you close your eyes. 

“Please...” you beg. It’s definitely not your mom; they’re too big, too strong. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” the grizzly timbre tickles in your ears as something firm slips beneath you; one arm around your shoulders, the other under your knees. 

You float in the air, eyes threatening to roll back as you fight through the clouds, your form jittering uncontrollably against the blaze that surrounds you. The man is hotter than fire. You tilt your head up and see the tufts of his short blond beard. 

It’s him. It’s Professor Smith but why is he there? Where is he taking you? All those questions merely stir in your slanted consciousness as your head falls against his shoulder. You’re too tired to think and you’re done fighting. It never you any good anyhow. 

You feel the motion of his steps and how he angles you through the door. Down the stairs and outside back into the unbearable light. You squeeze your eyes tight. He continues on, laying you into something soft. You look at him between your eyelids and garble. 

“Sweetheart, just stay here,” he bids in his lilt, pulling a lever to recline the car seat. The vinyl smells brand new and the upholstery looks just as pristine. It stamps your vision before you once more hide inside your head. “I’ll be back.” 

You don’t protest. Why is he doing all this? For you? He’s your professor... it doesn’t make much sense. Nothing does right now. Everything is just messy. 

He puts the engine on. The low whir is comforting. He adjusts the vents to blow air, though it feels hot to you. He stands and removes his jacket, spreading it over your quivering shoulders and chest. He huffs and cranes to see behind him. 

The door shuts and locks at his back as he leaves you. You stay as you are. It’s as comfortable as you’ve been in days. Time stretches on, crackling in your ears. You drift off into a void, brought back only by the hollow thunk of the electric locks. 

Professor Smith tosses something in the backseat and snaps the door closed, moving to the driver’s. He sits beside you and lets the car idle. He reaches over to touch your forehead as your lashes flutter at him. He hums as he appears as a ghostly smear. 

“Very well,” he says and the car rolls into motion. 

📓

You jolt up, a splash of water flying up across your face and chest as you rip your hand away from the electrifying pain. You’re caught by the shoulder and hushed. You blink tightly and lean back, looking over at the man on the other side of the porcelain. Professor Smith reaches over to take your hand out of the water, the ripples scalding on the tormented skin. 

“It’s already infected,” he says, “you’ll make it worse. I’m trying to dress it so be still.” 

Your confusion nips at your ears as you look down at yourself. You’re naked, in a tub of steaming water, the scent of lilies roiling up with the wisps. He sighs and you hiss as he presses a wet swab to the burnt patches of skin. Some of it even looks green. 

His sleeves are rolled to his elbows and there are cuts and scrapes on his own knuckles. Even so, his nails are cut and tidy and his skin is clean. He is diligent in his attention to your own mottled skin. 

You put your hand over your lap, trying to hide but all modesty is spent. You’re too dazed to care that much. There’s bigger questions. Where are you? Why? 

“I couldn’t let you to wallow in such a horrid place,” he speaks as he works, his touch gentle despite the thickness and firmness of his hand. “And after our last interaction, I could not just tuck my tail. It isn’t of my nature.” He tuts as he wets a new swab with alcohol, “and the filth--” 

“Professor...” you slur. “What... why?” 

“There are many details, yes, I had to jump through hoops but you needn’t worry for all that. What’s more important is we get you clean. The state of it,” he shakes his head, “a day or two more and you might’ve died.” He stills his hands and looks at you. You dare to meet his gaze, shame scalding as hot as the fever, “it wouldn’t do.” 

You frown, “I didn’t ask for help--” 

“Well, you are getting it,” he scoffs and sets back to disinfecting. “And a mother like that. Neglectful...” 

“She’s... lost.” 

“It doesn’t matter, does it? She’s still a mother. Bringing that man around. Certainly, he isn’t the first, either.” 

You lower your head. You wince and whimper as he carries on but you do not pull away. He works methodically. 

“We’ll get some antibiotics in you and tuck in,” he speaks to himself, “perhaps they can have some broth brought up to the room. Never fear, I’ve brought my own sheets and sanitized ever speck.” 

You cough and shake your head. You can’t keep up. 

“When you’re up to it, we’ll leave town. I do fear I will have to be back in office, at least my home office, within the week,” he takes out a roll of gauze and you wince. 

“I’m... what’s going on?” You ask. 

“Naturally, when you start something you need to follow through,” he says, “I’ve done and started this, haven’t I?” 

“Started what?” You utter. 

“Can’t take you back now,” he secures the bandage and lets your arm rest over the porcelain. “Don’t get that wet.” 

“Sir, professor,” you sit up, another spiraling sensation overcoming you. You look down and fold up to hide yourself, your exposure tingling over you, “what... please tell me what’s going on.” 

“Would you need help? Cleaning, I mean. Purely practical,” he offers, “I wouldn’t mind. Of course, I did wipe your face already, did my best with the hair...” he sits back on the low cushioned stool he’s on and puts his elbows on his knees, “there is soap and a fresh scrubber there.” 

“Can you please just--” you bluster and a faintness blows through you, sending you back against the porcelain. You slip down dangerously, your arm sticking up against the side of the tub. He catches your elbow, heaving you back up as he bends over you.  

“Yes, feverish still,” he says, “perhaps a hot bath is not the best for it.” He hauls you up and sits you on the ledge of the great basin, “hang onto me then, I will get you washed up.” 

You have no other choice but to obey. The humiliation cannot feed the strength you need to resist. You cling to him with your uninjured arm and lean your head on his shoulder. He pauses before he can grab the scrubbie and instead rubs your back. 

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” he coos, “yes, right then.”  

His hand lingers before he reaches once more and swipes up the bottle and sponge, moving his arms around you. You collapse into him and groan. At least he isn’t hurting you. Not like Lee. 

[reds-writings]

souls further entwined

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: finally an update for these two! sorry to keep you waiting! I've got a lot of life changes in the works so updates might come a little slower over the next few months depending but i hope this tides y'all over for a bit! this takes place sometime after if only tonight we could sleep

word count: roughly 2.5k

warnings: (PLEASE LOOK BEFORE CONTINUING) discussions of abortion, child loss, forced/unsafe medical procedures, bad family situations, angst angst, cursing, semi-not-so-smut at the end, minors avert your gaze or else!!

The hidden gem of a restaurant that Rust had brought you to somewhere in the French Quarter was rather nice with its live jazz band playing in the corner and lavish decor. The tinkering of silverware layered on top of the low rumblings of fellow diners did what it could to fill the void of silence that had long settled between you and the man sitting adjacent. He had spontaneously asked you– well more like told you to go out with him tonight. Something about wanting to do things right once and for all after all this tiptoeing around.  The whole notion had taken you off guard, admittedly.

You’d been buzzing so bright leading up to tonight that you could've probably put a lightning bug to shame. He’d asked you on a real date. A step forward from the semi-clandestine meetings you’d both been settling on for far too long now. It was unlike him to outwardly admit to much but you doubted it was a wide occurrence that he’d take a girl on a date just because he was bored. This had meaning.

With that thought swirling in mind, you’d found your best dress and took what constituted as way too long of a pampering shower to best prepare for a promising night out with the man you'd become so deeply enamored with. It wasn’t often you got to get all prettied up for some fun given that work always managed to swallow you whole. 

God you’d been so excited. 

From the time you’d gotten into Rust’s Ford up until you’d sat down to eat he had yet to utter a single word to you. Hell, he’d hardly even managed to look at you either and it was starting to cause a distasteful rock that went by the name of dread to sink lower and lower in your gut. 

Dexterous fingers stayed picking at the table cloth as a form of lengthy distraction and you fought the bubbling urge to snatch his hand and demand what gives. It wasn’t hard to miss the anxiety bleeding from his form with those tense shoulders and that telltale faraway look in his eyes. You didn’t want to continue the cycle of jumping to conclusions when it came to the routine lack of forthcoming involving his more vulnerable thoughts out of insecurity so you bit the bullet,

“Y’know…usually on a date there’s a bit more talkin;. Maybe startin’ with questions like ‘what’s your favorite color’-- it’s blue by the way, or ‘where’d you get that lovely dress’. Could also do with lookin’ a little less green in the gills.”

That got him to stop fidgeting but a response was not yet prompted. You sighed and looked down at the vibrant cloth napkin in your lap,

“If you’re startin’ to regret this we can just forget about it and head back-”

“I don’t know if I can be what you need.” He all but blurted and it had your head shooting back up in suprise.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t…I don’t find myself being suited for marriage like before. I can’t give you kids because I don’t think it’s right-”

“Wait a minute just-...slow your roll for a second.” Your mind was going a mile a minute at his frank outburst and you were having trouble pinpointing just where it all came from. 

“First of all, I don’t necessarily need the promise of marriage to feel fulfilled. I’m about to hit 30 soon enough and I’ve supplied plenty for myself that I'm not sure some flimsy marriage papers can add on to. I’m not just sayin’ all this to make you feel better either so don’t go down that route.” You were tenderly stern in your delivery to make sure what you were saying was actually sticking without sounding offended.

All he could give was a slight nod as the tip of his thumb came to his mouth: a nervous tic.

“Secondly…” You cleared your throat slightly and gave yourself a moment of pause. The latter concern wasn’t that of an easy subject. For either of you. Besides your family and probably Marty, not many knew of your reality when it came to the idea of starting a family. 

“I can’t have children. So that wouldn’t even be on the table to begin with I suppose.” 

That seemed to stun Rust. His expression working out how, what, and when this came to be. You cleared your throat again. Talking about it was never easy no matter how much time passed.

“The gist of it is…well I got knocked up when I was sixteen. Total accident, shocker. And um…my pa didn't approve. Not one bit, bein’ the respectable county figure he was as a seasoned lawyer n' all.” 

Your sinuses began to sting but you willed away any threat of tears as you tried to explain. Rust didn't say a word, his expression hardening minutely with a knowing sense of where this was headed.

“I didn’t wanna listen. I was scared of course but the boy I was foolin’ around with at the time was nice and had a family who wanted to be involved so that was enough for me. My uppity family could shove it for all I cared,” You scoffed wryly but continued, “But pa was adamant. He couldn’t have some little whore of daughter muckin’ things up but we were a church family so abortion was obviously out of the question. At least one would think that was the case,” 

“Long story short he dragged me to some back alley clinic where things would be kept under wraps. They fuckin’ botched it of course and made me sterile. Didn’t really know how bad it was until another loss and a visit with the doctor after trying with a serious boyfriend some time ago…” You shrugged as you fiddled with your unused silverware. You hadn’t spoken with your family since then. Letting you be mutilated for the sake of preserving a frivolous public image was a hard thing to let go of.

You remember how sick you were afterward. Infection from the procedure and a decent amount of blood loss, go figure. You only recall the house's maids nursing you back.

Your pa had never been able to look you in the eye again. Your mama just pretended nothing had ever happened the way it did.

Sometimes your mind had the habit of taking a dark turn every now and then, wondering if they would’ve felt any remorse if their forced course of action ended up actually killing you. With a selfishness like they had you couldn't help but doubt it. 

They had always taken more pride in your sister anyway. 

“So yeah…you don’t have to worry about the possibility of kids when it comes to me. It’s not like with our line of work it’d be much of a good idea anyway. Marty’s a prime example I'd reckon.” Your laugh was brittle in a weak attempt to lift the heavy weight you felt like you’d set over the mood. 

Rust’s large hand reached over to encase your shaking one to garner your attention. Looking up you weren’t met with pity or disgust, but with recognition. One shared in the experience of grief. Of having something meant to be so precious ripped from you in the cruelest of ways. He didn’t feel sorry for you. He understood you. More than anyone else had or could. 

“You’re enough for me, Rust. I don’t know if you’ve noticed by now but there’s not much you can do to send me runnin’ for the hills. I like you as you are and I don’t need more. I wouldn’t expect you to change your mind over somethin’ like that anyway. It just wouldn’t be fair to ask.” His eyes glazed over at your words and he had to let go of the troubled breath he’d been holding. He brought your hand to his lips and kept them there as an unspoken thank you. 

After a moment or two he set your hand back on the tabletop, still grasped in his. 

“How about we find some shitty dive and let loose over there. This place is startin’ to feel a lil’ too stuffy for me.” Your light-hearted jab made the corner of his lips quirk up before he nodded,

“Yes, ma'am.” 

—

After a relaxing drive accompanied by the tunes of Willie Nelson in search of a dive bar that was sufficient enough, the ice from all the worries of earlier had melted as fast as they had formed. The establishment you ended up coming across was a more than welcome change of pace compared to that of the restaurant (as lovely as it was). It wasn’t big by any means but there was room to dance and plenty of open spots to sit around and drink. 

You looped your arm through his and leaned into his side as you made your way to settle down. There wasn’t enough time or clarity earlier to truly appreciate just how good he looked for the occasion but now you had all the time in the world to shamelessly ogle.

He’d donned a black dress shirt, forgoing a tie and leaving a few buttons undone in a way that had you feeling dizzy, as well as a nice fitting pair of jeans that had plenty of passersby’s eyes glued to his shapely form.

“The ladies of Louisiana might just beat me up for a chance with you. If your face ain’t motivation enough your ass surely will be.” You nudged him and he shook his head mirthfully. 

“One would say jealousy is unbecoming.”

“Who said anythin’ about jealousy? I’ve earned my stake in claimin’ you as eye candy fair and square. They can try all they want but they were just too slow to the draw.”

“With your pension for being scrappy, I’d say they wouldn’t have much of a chance to begin with.” 

“Gee, is that the only reason they don’t stand a chance?” You quirked a brow. You knew the answer but pestering him to fess up hardly ever got you far. 

“What d’ya wanna drink, Miss Envy.” He drawled, not one to fall into your traps so easily and you flicked him with narrowed eyes.

“Last time I checked my name don’t even come close to rhymin’ with envy so you can quit with that.” 

The shithead just smirked.

“I’ll take a jack and coke. Now run along.” You waved him away and he just shook his head. In his short absence you’d found a high top and decided to claim as your territory for the night. The music was clearer over this way and your heart jumped at the beginning notes of Fleetwood Mac’s Beautiful Child.

Upon his return, Rust had hardly been able to set the drinks down before you were grabbing at him to park yourselves out on the dancefloor. A few other couples were swaying in place so you figured it wouldn’t be all that awkward to steal a moment for yourselves.

It was strange, being able to be so open in your affections without the curious eyes of Marty or anyone else from the precinct to make judgments. You could just be yourselves. It was a breath of fresh air after all this time.

As the song gained momentum, you wrapped your arms around his neck, toying with the hairs at his nape while his strong ones made home around your waist to pull you in closer. A small spark of pride lit up your chest at him being able to be this comfortable with you.

As you rested your head along the expanse of his chest you felt the feather-light stamp of his kiss at your crown. The tenderness of the simple act almost had you turning into one hell of a mush puddle. You settled on burrowing deeper if that were any more possible as Stevie sang on. Fighting the effect he had on you was always going to be a losing battle. 

You wouldn’t trade this moment for a damned thing. 

—

It was nearing almost three in the morning by the time you arrived back home. Your mind had been pleasantly warmed by the drinks and all the dancing. Rust even seemed to have a newfound glow to him and it was triggering something innately carnal in you. 

Taking an opportunity from the pocket of silence, you scooted along the Ford’s bench seat to make a place for yourself along his lap. 

The relaxed daze displayed across his features was something you’d never had the pleasure of seeing before. It was nothing like the faraway trance he’d trap himself in with all the pills and whatnot in fruitless efforts of chasing undisturbed sleep. No, this was true content. 

“I had a good time.” You didn’t mean to sound so coy but it couldn’t be helped as your hands crept up to frame his fine face.

“That’s good. I’m glad.” He hummed as he took in every feature your beautiful face had to offer. It was like striking gold. Especially in this expansive wasteland of a state.

“When we get a chance we should do it again. S’nice to go out…feel normal…” Hair lying in his line of light distracted you as you moved it out of the way with a gentle sweep. The truck’s cab could probably burst with the steadily increasing tension so you did what any normal woman would do with such a man in front of them and kissed him with all you had. 

It started out syrupy and languid as if you had all the time in the world to be out macking in the car like a pair of careless teenagers. Your skin hummed like a live wire at his sudden grasp on the plush fat of your hips which served as the green light to go further. 

Your delicate fingers carded through his soft waves as the muscle of his tongue took dominance over the kiss. A meek whimper cracked within your throat as you tried to keep up with what little oxygen you had remaining. When Rust kissed, it was all-consuming. It was no act he took passively when it came to you which had been made crystal clear to you by now. With each pass of his wet-hot caress, you could feel everything he wanted to say to you without complication of expression through words. 

His mouth traveled across the apple of your cheek down the expanse of your neck, nipping and sucking with such lax reverence it had you arching as if you could fuse your ribs with his. Souls to be permanently intertwined.

With a starting grind of your hips that your body had no willpower to control you could feel him hardening with each intensifying roll. His choked moan had you remembering where you were and you’d be damned if your first actual night with him was in this old, damned truck right outside your house. 

“D’ya wanna take this inside?” You offered in a breathless huff, trying to catch your breath in vain. You’re sure that even in the dark of the truck’s cabin the heat of your face could set the whole space aglow. He nipped at your bottom lip and soothed it with another peck,

“I would.”

The sudden tangle of limbs clambering to make haste towards the beacon of your front door would’ve been downright hysterical had you any hubris. 

a/n: sorry to blue ball you lmao. I HOPE THIS WASN'T CRINGE AHHHHH. i'll probably come back and edit this later. feedback is always appreciated!

[geminibsworld]

preachers daughter pt 2

pt 1 is on my masterlist along with other stories

same warnings as before hehe

pearl and billy had been meeting up for weeks now. he sneaks in, they usually end up doing things, then he stays till her dad wakes up. it's been like that for weeks, and pearl was loving it. from what she knew billy and her were extremely close, they had seen every part of each other and they had become quite fond of each other. he adored her, and she adored him. they were polar opposites but billy was slowly ruining the preacher daughter, but in the best way. he loved how she blossomed, and opened up. she was his little freak, and he was her lover.

pearl sat her dads office, church was about to start and they didn't have much time together. no one knew about them, people suspected bur billy always took up for her. the door cracked open as billy peaked his head inside, pearl grinned at him as he walked in with a playful smile. he shut and lock the door, while keeping one arm behind him. pearls legs were swinging on the desk, billy walked between her thighs before handing her a daisy.

"hi, my pearl," he said, in a hushed tone. pearl smelled the flower smiling up at him.

"smells so pretty billy," pearl bit her lip, grinning up at him. billy grabbed her face with both his hands, placing a sweet kiss on her lips.

"smells like you," their kiss deepened, pearl felt incredibly turned on pulling billy closer by his hair. their hips meeting, her hand trailed down his chest palming him. he groaned quietly into her mouth, she slipped her tongue in his mouth playing with his own. his hands went from her hair, to her breast. rubbing her sensitive nipple, she whimpered into his mouth. she was such a sensitive girl, he thought. they pulled apart and billy leaned down, pulling down her dress from the top, slipping her nipple into his mouth. his tongue twirling around the bud, she moaned quietly throwing her head back. Billy's other hand innocently slipped down to her heat, he smirked looking up at her.

"so wet, just for me baby?" he asked, his voice low, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"yes daddy, just for you," she moaned, as he played with her bud. she threw her head back, turning her head ever so slightly, she bit her lip. billy suddenly stopped placing a hand over her mouth, he stood up and walked to the door quietly placing an ear to the door. he grinned, turning to look at pearl.

"your church service is startin, doll but I ain't finished with you yet," pearl didn't care, she just wanted billy.

billy walked over to her, before placing one finger to his lips to hers. she nodded, pulling up her dress. billy pulled her panties down her legs before throwing them on the ground. billy grabbed pearl, placing her on the ground before he sat on the desk, undoing his belt before taking a quick glance to pearl. he placed a kiss on her forehead, before saying, "ride me baby,"

he picked her up off the ground, slowly hovering her over him. he glared at her, "slow," he whispered. she didn't listen, she just immediately sat down on his big member causing her to gasp loudly. billy placed a hand on her throat, not hurting her but warning her.

"fuck- baby be careful, you'll get us both caught," he grunted quietly, as she rode him at a medium pace. she bounced on him, his hands at her hips. riding was her favorite because he always hit the right spot, and she could feel all of him the best. she was in pure ecstasy, her hair a mess. billy placed his mouth on hers, as he began to take over. he kissed her like he needed to kiss her, like he needed to feel her like that. her arms wrapped around his neck, as their mouths connected and disconnected. she whimpered into the kiss as he picked up pace. he pulled away, his forehead on hers as his breath fanned over her face. he stood up, walking behind the desk, holding pearl while he was inside of her, and began to fuck her upaginst the wall. his hands tangled in her hair, he began to lose himself.

"my good little whore," he grunted, "such a good girl takin my big dick," she almost cried out as billy placed another longing kiss on her plump lips. pearl moaned quietly, clenching around him her juices dripping down his cock. billy wanted nothing more for her to be loud, and scream and to show that preacher his daughter was a whore. his whore, his girl.

"you're my good girl, aren't you baby?" he moaned into her ear, her wetness non stop. Billy's hands under her ass, finding a rhythm to where she was creaming over and over again. pearl was seeing white, and her vision blurred. she wanted to cry as he pounded her, to let him know how good it feels.

"my sweet good girl," he moaned, feeling himself began to get closer, "takin my dick so good,"

"daddy," she pulled on his hair, pulling his head close to hers, "harder," billy smirked to himself before carrying her over to the desk. he plopped her down, flipping her over her chest lay on the desk with her ass out. he postioned him between her folding, rubbing up and down. pearl bit her lip, bucking against him. he stopped reaching down, grabbing her by the throat to look at him. she gasped, his stare hard.

"don't be fuckin greedy," he grumbled, before sliding all the way in. she gasped at the feeling, billy let go of her throat, before wrapping her dark brown hair around his hand. his other on her waist, pounding her. her pale white ass jiggled against him, he spanked her. she bit her lip from crying out as he pounded her from the back, billy threw his head back. pearl was seeing stars, she'd never felt such a feeling after all the times they'd been together.

"f-fuck, baby," he mumbled, "feels so fuckin good. can't wait to fill you up," she whimpered in response as billy picked up his pace, the sound of slapping was the only thing that could be heard besides the occasional grunt or whimper.

pearls vision blurred as she creamed on his cock again, she couldn't help it. billy moaned quietly, grabbing both her hips slamming into her more. he lifted up her right leg, plunging deeper into her. pearl couldn't help but moan loudly, there was music playing in the church room so billy went harder into her. they couldn't hear them now, billy thought smirking.

"you like daddy's cock,huh?" he grunted, slamming into her. she struggled to respond as she moaned, her legs shaking.

"yes I love daddy's cock," she moaned, loudly. billy cried out, before slamming into her one last time, filling her up. he pulled himself out, and steaded pearl helping her stand.

he placed a sweet kiss to her forehead, helping her slide her panties on and handing her dress over. as billy got dressed pearl wandered what they were to each other.

"I'll see you tonight, baby okay?" he said, kissing her lips this time. she smiled at him, kissing back.

he climbed out the window winking at pearl, she giggled and waved a small bye to him. he closed the window behind him, she locked it watching him walk away. she made sure she looked presentable, as she walked out seeing her father. he stood there at the podium, before looking over at her. he looked angry.

"so, you've been hanging around billy huh?" he asked, not looking up at her.

"what're you talking about?" she asked, brows furrowed.

"I think you know," he glared at her, arms crossed. she was in trouble, he knew. her heart thumped in her chest as her mind raced. how could've he known?

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

Actually told Mr. V we're probably gonna talk about some of. His issues. In therapy, sometime soon-ish

He took it surprisingly well? Kinda just tried to laugh it off, like he always does when he's uncomfortable but doesn't want me to think it's a big deal

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Polyphony

Chapter Twenty-Six

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Lee, Kevin, Charlie, Benny, Jesse, Sam/Madison, Annie/Bobbie, Crowley, Patience, Donna, Jody, Cesar, Nancy and going forward I'm just gonna list the bands as a whole unit and then the tertiary characters there's so many people all of the sudden!

Word Count: 3443

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, jealousy, Dean/Bela blow job, he's trying his best okay?, after party shenanigans, mild drug use

A/N: I am so sorry this update has taken me so long. It's been a weird couple of months. And with that I quickly duck away from all the tomatoes you will want to virtually throw at me over this chapter. xoxo Stu

Series Masterlist

Dean stepped off the side of the stage into the pit like a madman. He’d just played an entire show and finished with three encores. He didn’t want to be caught, it wasn’t an attempt at crowd surfing. It was submitting to the tide, merging with his audience.

They loved it, he was immediately met with open arms and cheers and more than one pinch on the ass.

The fog of smoke from the stage mixed with the stink of alcohol, decent weed and drying sweat then hovered over the entire crowd as Dean laughed and joked and hugged his way toward the barricade. Lee was still shouting his thank yous and Kevin was continuing to jam on the keys as the lights came back up.

Charlie cut all audio and the sudden lack of background noise was deafening. Everyone’s focus zeroed in on Dean among the chaos.

“Alright, c’mon brother,” Benny’s voice wrangled Dean out of the throes of fans more than anything. “Time to go home, folks! Let the man through!”

Dean waved and threw kisses backwards to the fans. Damn, his cheeks ached with the length of his grin, but he just couldn’t stop it. And apparently it was contagious, from Benny to Jesse, and all the way back to the dressing room, everyone who met his eye beamed back at him, followed by a cacophony of praise and congratulations that came by too fast to appreciate.

“There he is!” Lee shouted over all the laughing and cheering. The band and SPS had apparently started the after party the moment the show ended. Lee grabbed Dean around the neck, kissed his temple, and bowed him over for a noogie in the blink of an eye. Dean could have punched him in the dick, but took the high road and elbowed him in the gut instead. “Sonuvabitch—- let’s get you a drink.”

Lee dragged Dean towards the wall of booze they requested by the neck.

Someone smacked Dean’s hip as he waddled past, probably Donna, but it was too rowdy to be sure.

“Uh-oh!” Lee teased and then finally let Dean go. 

He popped up just in time for Bela to swoop in and kiss his speaking mouth. “Heh!” And okay, he closed his eyes a little late, but he was not expecting that. Lee whistled in his ear, but Dean had finally caught up with her and didn’t want to be ungrateful, so he deepened the kiss, got a hold of her hips and made it dirty, for the audience.

“Okay! Okay! Christ,” you swore. “Shots? I’m ready. Who else?”

Dean pulled back from Bela’s lips, suddenly self-conscious. She smirked, but Dean couldn’t quite match her mischief.

“Trouble’s startin’!” Pam hollered and Kevin practically shrieked as he rushed over to join you.

“You want in?” Dean asked Bela out of the side of his mouth.

“Definitely,” she agreed. They shuffled over and lined up for Cesar to drop another two disposable shot glasses onto the row before overfilling them all straight down the line.

“Salud!” He bid them imbibe.

“SALUD!” They shouted back in a choppy chorus.

The tequila without lime rolled down his throat more than stung, but Dean liked the way it felt on his tongue, an entirely different mouthfeel than his usual whiskey.

“Gah!”

Cesar eyed Dean knowingly, dark eyes bright and proud. “More?”

Dean nodded and looked around, seeing Patience sitting on the minifridge. “Hey Psychic chic, lay one on me?!”

She rolled her eyes but hopped down and got Dean a beer chaser as Cesar poured another row. “You’re a goddamn saint, thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Nice job out there,” Patience almost looked impressed.

Dean cranked the cap off his bottle and held it up. “Just gettin’ started.”

“That we are,” she agreed and then leaned over and reached behind Dean, waving and then holding out her hand. “Hey! Sorry, we haven’t met. I’m Patience— I’m the bass player for the opener.”

“Bela! I’m with him,” Bela replied, diligently shaking Patience’s hand. Dean couldn’t see it, but he felt it as Bela braced against his back to reach.

“You poor thing!” Patience teased.

“I’m right here you know!” Dean griped playfully and took his and Bela’s shot in the meantime, winking at Cesar.

“Eh, it’s not all bad,” Bela heavily implied something.

“I’ll have to take your word for it.” Patience said in a way like she’d be following up.

Dean groaned and took a long pull off his beer before finally turning around and joining the conversation about him. Bela practically draped herself against him, her spangly bracelets rattled down her forearm as she got comfortable.

“What is that bad?” Dean stage whispered to Bela.

“I’ll tell you later, dear,” Bela said diplomatically, patting his chest.

Patience chuckled. “How long?”

Dean looked at Bela before he could fuck that one up. “Couple of months.”

“Six.”

“Six?!” Dean balked.

“Yes, six months since we met for brunch at that place with the frittatas.”

“It’s March— that was November,” Dean countered.

“It’s still new, though,” Patience suggested, clearly amused.

“Basically,” Dean agreed.

“Not too new,” Bela tacked on.

Dean sipped his beer and looked around the room as Bela asked Patience about her band, things Dean heard but already knew. Lee and Kevin were geeking about something or another as they talked to Donna whose smirk told Dean that she was baiting them for something. Sam was spread back on the couch with Madison draped against his side while Annie sat across from them sealing a joint. Bobby and Victor were talking shop with the Sera chick from the venue just outside the door, making peace or demands, Dean couldn’t be sure.

He wondered if Charlie was still making notes for the show tomorrow or if she was here somewhere he hadn’t clocked.

“Alright folks, time to go make nice with the civilians. SPS let’s get you ladies first— Sam, grab your brother.” Bobby bellowed through the dressing room before heading out to the meet and greet area. Lots of bands did this stuff before the show, but Dean always preferred it after. Plus enough booze tended to put everyone, fan or band member, at ease.

Dean gave Patience a knowing look, rolled his eyes, and then pulled his arm off of Bela’s shoulders. “Duty calls.”

Seeing fans face-to-face was a mixed bag. Dean was never immune to the ego boost, it meant a lot that someone enjoyed something he helped make and that they were able to give them a good show in return. But there were the absolute nutbags too. And then everyone else in the middle who were either way too excited and forgot he was essentially a stranger or that he was a person at all, or trying so hard to be cool and aloof that he left feeling bad for them.

Generally it was fun, if exhausting. But after he had crashed and burned, he had this nagging urge to hang back and let the rest of the band do the heavy lifting for once. The guilt of entertaining that thought weighed on him as he followed Sam, Pam and Bobby while being flanked by Kevin and Lee. Dean Winchester didn’t pass the buck, he picked up the slack and so he walked into the repurposed rehearsal room with a big grin and his arms wide above his head.

“How’s it going everybody?!”

Screams and cheers hit them in a solid wave of sound. Carefully, you escorted them to the signing tables while everyone was still corralled behind the snap-bracelet dividers while Bobby watched the exit and the crowd. The venue’s security managed the line, ensuring everyone generally kept their clothes on and hands to themselves for this part.

SPS took up the first two tables, forcing PT’s diehards to play nice and give the openers some love. Though Dean was pleasantly surprised to see some folks decked out in their gear too, especially as a transplant band it made him proud of his friends. He cracked open the water bottle that was set in front of his assigned seat and chugged half of it. Suddenly hoping he didn’t smell too rank, from breath or sweat, he hadn’t stopped long enough to remember to grab some gum or more deodorant. He did a sniff check and felt a warm palm on his shoulder.

“Sure or unsure?” You teased, leaning in to hear him over the hustle and bustle of approaching fans.

“Passable. Got any gum?”

You rolled your eyes and stood back up to spin your compact cross-body bag around to dig through for him.

“Thanks,” Dean said while popping the piece into his mouth.

“‘’Course— anybody else?” You held out your pack and it got passed down the line from Lee to Sam, Pam was already covered, but Kevin took two, unabashedly pocketing the spare for later.

Then it was go-time and autographs passed in a blur.

The venue staff broke down the tables and slowly the people who hung around were able to mingle with the bands. Dean felt the urgency of a few groups pressing in on him, but he just grabbed his nearest bandmate, Kevin, and made the circle of conversation bigger. 

“So you’re the new Cas— how’s that going?” A woman who was old enough to know better asked behind hipster glasses.

“Weren’t you out there?!” Dean pushed back. “Dude killed tonight.”

“Ah, thanks, Dean.” Kevin said like the asshole he is. “And to think the last eight months felt like a fever dream.”

“Yeah, yeah, pipsqueak, we’re keeping you around.”

The small crowd around them laughed nervously, not yet getting Kevin’s humor.

Dean posed for selfies and gave out hugs and even had a thumb war with someone’s eight-year-old (who should not have been hanging out so late, but he wasn’t their parent). By the time the rest of the band had slipped away to the official afterparty, which included more of their friends and family and the rest of VIP, Dean was beat. 

So he headed back to the dressing room for a quick pitstop, Benny at his side now that the stage was secured for tomorrow night’s show.

Waiting for him, sprawled out on the couch like the epitome of seduction, was Bela, slowly smoking a joint through an antique cigarette holder. Who the fuck even had one of those? But damn, it stopped him well and good.

“Hey.”

“Hi there, is it time for the next round?” She slowly pulled herself up and slinked into his space. Behind him, he heard the door close. Fucking Benny.

“Yeah, I was just coming in here to— uh, freshen up a bit.”

Bela took another hit. “I see. Well, I won’t keep you from all that, but I might tempt you to stick around a bit before bumping more elbows.”

Dean eyed the couch she had crawled off of and the whole expanse of their suddenly empty dressing room. “Uh, yeah, I could use something to take the edge off.”

There was an actual shower stall nestled in the back of the ensuite bathroom of the dressing room. Dean was not brave enough to tackle that series of possibilities at the moment. But he ddid a quick scrub down of his junk and pits at the sinks, because nobody deserved a whiff of stale ball sack even if they only did this half clothed and dirty. He was a gentleman, okay?

He made sure to pull a condom out of his wallet and moved it to his front pocket instead. With one final glance in the mirror, Dean stepped back out into the dressing room proper, to see Bela now sipping something clear and fizzy out of one of the small plastic cups the venue sold cocktails in, legs crossed and eyes wicked.

“Hey.”

This thing with Bela had been growing tedious the longer it went on, but with the tour and all the publicity it wasn’t like either of them could get their rocks off with randos anymore. Dean liked Bela, in a get under-your-skin way with a perpetual need to one up one another flare that felt very high school yet with more varying levels of stakes attached. 

But she was gorgeous and more than interested. So he indulged again.

Dean sank down onto the couch beside her and finished the roach she had left in the tip of her cigarette holder, propped up on an ugly brown glass ashtray that was potentially older than both of them.

Who knew where half the shit in the dressing room came from.

Once he was good and relaxed, Bela set down her drink.

“You know New Kids on the Block was my first concert. I got to meet them and pose for pictures before they took the stage at Whitley Bay. Nobody knew who I was, we had just finished filming the first season of Red Sky at Dawn, but they still made me feel like a princess.”

Dean didn’t quite know what to say. “Well I hope we rocked a little harder than a boy band.”

Bela nodded and considered. “I was wondering if you’d mind making me feel a little more grown up—- a little more wild.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “You got some sort of fantasy I need to know about here?”

Bela huffed a laugh, more to herself, she wasn’t quite looking at him.

“All this, backstage at a rock concert— sex, drugs and rock'n'roll. I guess I always wanted to be the teenage bad girl. But I was never allowed, my “reputation” always came first.”

“Okay, well, I’m not exactly into PYTs anymore, so if you want to play pretend, let's keep our own ages— I’m game, just tell me what you wanna do.”

Bela kissed him in response and creeped onto his lap.

Dean’s hands found her hips and dragged her closer, while his tongue turned the kiss sloppy. She hummed into his mouth and rubbed the warmth between her legs against his hardening dick. They really didn’t have time for a whole scenario here, but he wanted to make her happy.

“You like it a little dirty? Fucking groupie just need to get a piece of me to brag about to all your friends? Huh?”

Her voice came out accentless and needy, always a performer and goddamn pro too. “Please, Dean, I just want to touch it. To feel you.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you can do more than that. How about you get on your knees and show me how much you want it?”

“I can do that— I love doing that,” Bela emphasized the last word, like it was too dirty to call by its name. 

“Yeah?” Dean leaned back and unbuttoned his jeans. “Show me.”

Bela eagerly dug him out of his boxers and fly, stroking him to his full glory. Her eyes sparkled conspiratorially. Dean tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before she took him deep inside her mouth.

Fucking hell was she warm and sucked him like she was pulling a golf ball through a garden hose.

“That’s it, take me deep. Show me how much you want me to come down that tight little throat of yours,” Dean growled, nearly spitting the words out until he closed his eyes. 

         He was transported back into his shower at home, the thoughts of you on your knees, of you teasing him, and running your bottom lip over the ridge of his tip. You lapping up the bead of precum you coaxed out of his slit. Dean wanted it to be you more than he should. But more than that, he wanted you anyway he could have you. And the thought of all the ways he would make you scream was what sent him over.

“FUCK!” Dean shouted, biting his bottom lip and holding Bela’s head in place as his dick finished twitching through his orgasm.

Bela purred and licked him clean. 

“You’re a fucking menace, I’ll have you know.” Dean said exasperated. And then pulled her face to his for a final kiss. “UGH! I have to go to at least another two parties now.”

Bela chuckled. “You can do it. You’re the lead singer of Phantom Traveler! You can’t be made useless from a single blow job.”

“Yeah, well, it was a killer bj.”

Bela rolled her eyes. “Stop bragging and help me fix my hair.”

Dean did as he was told.

Crowley was waiting at the after party. Which, fucking figured, but Dean and Bela showed up fashionably late had the snarky asshole smugger than a grandma who just gave her grandson his fifth cookie before sending him home for nap time.

Dean looked around the club, keeping quick tabs on the rest of the band and SPS. Jody and Donna were talking to Pam in the corner and he wouldn’t be surprised if somebody swapped hotel rooms that night. Those women knew how to have fun.

Patience and Kevin were talking to some more dressed up fans that might actually be family of someone or another at the label. Dean couldn’t remember what Crowley’s son looked like the last time he saw him, besides having an early Beatles ‘do.

Nancy and Sam were talking animatedly about something nerdy, Dean was certain. It even looked like Sam had found himself a triple red eye somewhere tonight, because there was no way that moose was that awake this late naturally.

Lee was sweet talking a group of ladies along the half wall near the bar, as Cesar watched from the corner amused. All of their people were there it seemed, he just hadn't spotted Charlie yet until he got a solid knuckle to the bicep.

“Took you long enough!” 

“A wizard is never late, he arrives precisely when he means to,” Dean quoted in his best Ian McKellan voice.

“Dude! Stop, you can’t do a good Gandalf and you know it!” Charlie begged. “So? Good night so far?”

She eyed Bela knowingly. “See anybody on my team? Besides the openers? I’m not touching that kind of drama again. Though Pam looks like she may be—?”

Dean chuckled. “Pam does what Pam wants— too late to stop her now. But, uh, I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”

Charlie held up her fist and Dean met it with a solid bump. “See you ‘round, Red.”

Bela waved at her as she left, comfortable at Dean’s side and smug as ever.

Dean made his way to the hor'dourves table and Bela went to find them fresh drinks. As far as afterparties went, it was a little more high brow than they usually were, but it wasn’t bad. 

Dean just wasn’t feeling it.

Or maybe it was the way Victor was leaning in to hear you better as you discussed something or another with him and Bobby and Annie across the bar. They ate and they drank and they got rowdier once everyone made it to the hotel. Lee had two girls heading up to his room, but he and Pam were arguing over who got to use their room for the night and who was picking up their luggage to make getting ready in the morning easier.

Sam and Madison kept stopping every five feet to kiss or grope one another. While Charlie and some curly haired girl with cat ears sticking out of her head were almost as gross.

SPS were riding into the hotel on the roadies’ backs, little Nancy on Jesse and Donna on Benny like they were jockeys or cowgirls. Kevin and Patience were carrying their bags and shoes, apparently, behind them, amused and begrudgingly helpful. Dean, Bela, you and Cesar all rode up on an elevator together, leaving behind most of the mayhem for a blissful stretch of two minutes of quiet.

You actually may have fallen asleep standing up.

Dean nudged you and you quickly snapped out of it, fumbling for your room key and dragging Bela with you.

“Uh, Y/N? I’m going to Dean’s— I’ll just get my stuff in the morning.”

“What? Oh! Yeah, of course.” You yawned so hard, Dean had to take a deep one himself. It didn’t lessen the heat that crept up his neck as you watched Bela walk the opposite way down the hall from your room. “See you guys— see you guys at breakfast.”

Dean wanted to say something, to be reassuring, you looked so sullen all of the sudden. His mouth wouldn’t work and his feet didn’t either until Bela tugged on his elbow and marched towards his penthouse suite.

He really wanted to shoot her in that moment.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

@beautiful-places-blog

@n-o-p-e-never

Chapter 27: Molto

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

A random au where bucky is a car mechanic who is fixing his single sexy next neighbor, reader's car. She was wearing slightly revealing clothes to want to get banged by bucky. Luckily it work!!!

The Piper: paid

A/N: Soooooooo fucking sorry about the time in between my last post my wonderful people. Doing my absolute best to make lemonade outta the lemons life keeps whippin at the back of my damn head. Anyway, next story will also be a request as I have so many to get done. Probs won't be doing any thing else till I get those done. Anyway.. On to the fic! Enjoy!

"Dammit!"

Bucky's frustrated outburst, along with something metal clattering against his garage floor is audible as I walk up his long, wide, driveway. Listening to him grumble aggressively about "a piece of shit black lil mercedes" makes me chuckle heartily to my self. Expletives about the damage I staged seems to be most common, along with a couple grunts from an unknown task clearly exerting his strength.

The way his breath puffs out entices the introverted slut in me to visualize him underneath me in immense bliss while I ride his dick to my satisfaction, those heavy huffing pants spilling from his lips. Hopefully today's the day I make my dreams come true.

Looking left to right, I notice there's not a soul outside at the moment. That just means step one of my plan is already in action. The dainty diamond rolex on my wrist confirms it's 5pm. Right on time to get fucked and filled with Bucky's nut till it leaks in my panties. Mmmm... Can't wait to rub em all over my pussy later; his milky cream acting as lube while I make myself cum so fuckin hard. I'm lickin my full heart shaped lips in anticipation while plottin on this poor unsuspectin man.

Passing by his new deep blue jaguar, I run a finger along its pristine paint job as I spot Bucky on a creeper underneath my Mercedes. He takes that moment to run a hand through his fresh cut dark locks while wishing it absolute death. It's impossible not to feel a smidge of guilt at the purposeful trouble Bucky's going through at the moment but if everything goes my way, I fully intend to make it up to him by the end of the evening. Shit, hopefully multiple times this evening. It's outta my power not to smile wide at the way my soakin wet pussy flutters at the thought.

Leaning against his ride with palms flat on the hood, I eye fuck my prize thoroughly. Daddy looks so fucking good in his fitted navy blue tee and snug black jeans on his back, his muscled thighs spread wide. The bottom of his shirt lifts a bit to reveal a peek of his firm, incredibly toned tummy as his hips jut upwards. Dark brown boots spread apart wide when he repositions himself, and the fat ass bulge in between his legs grabs my attention real quick.

I'm so fuckin horny just from starin at Bucky, that I gotta squeeze my thighs together for just even a hint of pressure on my pulsating center. My shorts are past drenched where they rest sticky against me. The arousal drippin out plasters my brown thick thighs as my needy little cunt clenches rapidly around nothing. My nipples are so fuckin hard from lightly rubbing against the extremely transparent fit I chose just for him.

"Hey Buck, whats the progress on my baby?" I finally grab his attention as I drum my glossy short jet black nails on the hood of his car.

The wheels on the creeper squeak as he rolls from underneath the source of his current troubles and stands. His eyes focus on the black grime on his hands and he heads to the small sink in the corner of his garage as he responds.

"Woman, I don't know how you manage to damage something on this vehicle every week but it's gotta stop. I'm startin think you just like to come see me."

"Well why not? You're a sight for sore eyes, good lookin."

He dries his hands while laughing at my brazeness and, as always, not taking my corny flirtation serious.

"Boy, you laughin like I won't fuck the daylights outta you right fuckin now."

That flippant response however has him spinnin on his heels to face me. Bucky's vibrant blue eyes grow to orbs and he's rendered speechless as he thoroughly takes in my damn near non existent ensemble. This man is staring at the swell of my perky titties so intently that I know step 2 of my plan is gonna be a piece of cake and I really hope its not my imagination when noticing a twitch from the protrusion in his black jeans.

Dropping the cloth in his hands to the garage floor, he takes long strides till he's standing outside in front of me. His pretty pink lips part and close multiple times as he struggles to speak as he gazes at my nipple covers. Wonder what Daddy's next moves gonna be..

Bucky doesn't say anything at first; but the way he lustfully takes me in gives me goose bumps. His big hands reach around me to grip under my ass and hoist me up against his body. I don't hesitate to wrap my arms and legs around him as he walks us to his parked car, layin me across the warm hood.

"Damn sweetheart, where you plan on goin lookin like this?" Bucky asks, eyes still darting around my body as he presses his clothed hard dick between my legs. The pressure of him against my pussy feels heavy, has my clit thumpin wildly and I'm grindin back without a thought.

"I have a date tonight." I respond breathlessly and that makes his light crystal cerulean eyes snap to mine.

"That right? What're you doin underneath me then, woman? Huh? A little pregame?" He teases, leaning in so close that our lips almost touch.

I shake my head at his questioning as my cheeks heat up from his words. Still, its difficult to feel true embarrasment as his hands glide slowly over my frame, leaving a trail of warmth that makes me press into his palms. Bucky's touch and proximity stuns me a bit, makes my brain fuzzy and pussy clench for him ferally. The small sexy smirk playin at the corner of his lips turns me on just as much as him dry humping me in broad daylight ontop his brand new ride.

"Huh y/n? Is that it? Did you come to me first cause you wanna cum for me first?" He chuckles at me.

Leaning down, his soft lips pecks light kisses from the cheek to my ear. His fingertips skim under my tight bottoms, so dangerously close to my clit as he nips and sucks at my skin. I'm moaning and nodding my assent as I tug him to press against me firmly by the loops of his jeans.

"Fuuuuck.. Lemme feel you then pretty girl."

Bucky's fingers finally dragging across my throbbing button lightly, makin me damn near seize underneath him. I do nothing to mask the loud gasp of his name as the pleasure from just one swipe has me squeezin my eyes shut and grabbin at the top of his jeans in a death grip.

"Damn, my girl is soooo sensitive."

His low groan at my ear makes my soaked pussy flutter quicker and I can feel myself becoming desperate from his teasing touches. The sensation of one hands roaming up my body to gently squeeze over my left tit as the other sweeps across my pussy has me choking on my breaths with a heaving chest. Bucky lifts his head to watch me as he slowly traces circles around my clit, never fully pressing down on it the way I crave.

"Pleeease Buck, pleeeeease." I beg for him to give me more as my incessant yanking on his bottoms pops open the silver button and zipper.

A surprising thanks to the foregoing of underwear is definitely due because I'm then gifted with fattest dick I've ever seen. He's so. Fucking. Perfect. Almost pretty if it werent how girthy his shaft is, the angry flushed head of his dick drooling an abundant stream of precum. I easily notice the weight of him prevents it from slapping upwards; the thick tip of his cock points at my slippery slit. I don't stop pulling at him, humping the tip of his dick while I continue to plead for him to give me what I want most.

"Okay, honey, okay. I'll give you what you want. But lemme take you inside- haaaah, ooooh fuuuuck.."

Our moans mingle togther as one of my harsh tugs forces a few inches of his dick inside my awaiting core. Bucky eyes are wide as saucers as he stares where we connect with an open mouth. His breathing is harsh and loud; strong chest rising and falling rapidly as he quickly grabs my hands from his jeans. I immediately grieve as his touch leaves my tit and clit but my pussy involuntarily clutches at the head of his dick as he pins my wrist to the hood of his car.

"Jesus, woman. Mmmm.. Dammit, aaaaahhh fu- you couldn't wait till I got you inside?"

"Noooo, James. Want you, NEED you noooow. Please Jaaames, pleeease!" I don't notice the volume of my voice rising as I start to lose my fuckin mind.

Bucky's gaze is piercing but frantic, darting from the small puddle forming underneath me on the hood of his car to the way I'm hangin off the end of his dick. But I think it's the way I whine his first name that breaks his resolve. He briefly halts pinnin me down to put my legs over his shoulders. He's then scooping my wrists together in one hand and covering my mouth with the other.

"Fine, pretty girl, don't say I didn't warn your bad ass. Tried to give us some privacy. Now you gonna take this dick no matter what."

The first pump of his cock has him slidin in halfway, the river spilling from me aiding his stroke in. Still, his fat ass shaft splits my delicate walls apart swiftly, the intense pressure has my glossy y/e/c eyes and lined lips opening wide. I squeal loudly gainst his palm, not expecting Bucky to already be sitting in my guts even though he wasn't all the way in yet. WTF..

"Fuuck, sobigBuck, you're HUGE." I whimper, peering up at him with vacant eyes. He leers down at me with a knowing smile.

"Yeah, but my girls gonna have to get used to it huh?" He asks, starting fuck up into my gushy slit.

I don't mean to yank at his hold on my wrists but his next 2 thrust are so fuckin deep. My resistance doesn't free me, though it pulls him off balance and he slides in to the hilt. The tension in my tummy deepens as I feel his cock diggin into my pussy in places no man's ever reached. If it weren't for the hand cupping my mouth, I'm sure the scream I let out would be deafening. Bucky moans out praises as I squeeze my eyes shut tight and try my best to breathe through my nose.

"You're doing so damn-ohshit- weeeeell honey, takin me sooooo good. Mmmmmm.. Chokin the fuckin life out my dick y/n. Not s-sure how long I can last in this hot, tight ass, little pussy, sweetheart. Fuuuuuuck.. Keep being a good girl for me, try to keep quiet okay?"

I can feel Bucky's stare on me even through my close lids, so I nod my compliance. In reality, I pray to god that i dont scream out 'Daddy' for the whole neighborhood to hear while he's dickin me down.

He takes his hands from my wrists and mouth, sliding them down for a quick grab of my plump brown breasts, then to grip at my waist. The pull of his dick slowly slidin out then swiftly plunging back inside has me panting loudly with furrowed brows. I have to cover my own mouth this time, both hands pressed against my lips as he repeats the motion of his hips over and over until he's fucking me in a unhurried but deeply precise rhythm.

"Ohmygod James! Sogood-you'resogood! Don't stop, pleeeease d-don'tstop!" My muffled cries are crazed as he finally stuffs me with dick.

"I won't, honey, won't stop till you cream all over me. Wouldn't dreeeeam of it, baby. Can't stop till you cum on my cock. Fuuuuuck you feel like heaven baby, pussy got me ready to nut an we jus started. Haaah oooh God, sooo good, need you to cum first, y/n."

I'm already covered in perspiration as the breeze races across my nut brown skin and cools me down. Its about the only thing I notice, sounds of the passing cars and chirping birds drowned out by the loud rushing in my ears as Bucky thoroughly fucks the shit outta me. The pleasure swirling in my tummy is so fucking taut, and I know when I cum it's gonna be fucking spectacular.

His unrushed pace begins to speed up, the impact of him pumpin into me rocks his car back and forth as his grunts become more frequent. My knees tremble near his ears from the onslaught, from hearing how good Daddy feels because of me.

He looks just as delicious as he sounds, his body so fuckin tense as I witness how he loses himself in my pussy. Normally his light blue eyes are what stun me, but the dark pupils so damn dilated captivate me into a trance. I stare back helplessly as he gives me the best dick I ever had.

The hands holding my waist clutch snugly, usin his leverage to help fuck me a bit faster. His dick twitches against my walls heavily as Bucky groans out his pleasure, grunts out how he can't take the creamy ring getting thicker around the base of his dick.

"Can I-mmmmohfuckohfuckhoney-can I kiss you sweetheart?"

The sugary sweet question is sudden and takes me aback, is almost funny considering how severely deep he's seated inside of me. I might've even laughed if I wasn't keening from the amazing dick I was currently receiving. Too overwhelmed to answer, I release my mouth and clasp my fingers behind his neck, pulling his face to mine.

Bucky presses a quick kiss to my mouth with soft pink lips. Then another. And one more, the third one deepening with passion. It doesnt matter that he slows the pace of his hips to a crawl again; he continues to grind and dig so deep that his cock curves and hits a firm but gummy spot inside my cunt. It's too damn difficult after that to keep in sync of his lips as he drags his spasming dick across my g spot with too much fuckin accuracy. My sobs against his mouth doesn't stop Bucky's assault on my body. I know what time it is when his hand leaves my waist to press a firm quick circle directly on my clit.

"Mmmmm, pussy f-feels too fuckin 'mazin y/n, sooooclosebaby. I'm gonna buss babygirl, gonna fill that pretty lil kitty to the brim. Need you to cum too, honey. Pleeease." Bucky pleas with me in between messy damp kisses.

I'm way too near my end for full sentences, but from the way I mewl 'James' repeatedly, he seems to get the point. His grinding comes to an abrupt halt before he pulls his dick all the way out and vigorously stabs back in over and over, smashing my g spot and flicking my clit ferociously.

"Bu- haaaah! Aaaahh fuuuu- James! Ohgo- mmmm.. Uhn, uhn, uhn, JAMES!"

My orgasm is almost incomprehensible at first, the pressure in my gut exploding, spiraling outta control and I squirt fiercely against his torso. Warm lips engulf my mouth, sucking and nipping, probably to hush the animalistic noises coming from me as I quiver and shake underneathe him. Its like an avalanche of sensation, so intense I have to grip and claw at his shoulders to ground myself.

"Ahhhh, fuck y/n! Can't take feelin you gush my dick like this. Gonna give this pussy just what she needs honey, fucking cummin sweetheart! Ahhhh shiiiit! Sogood, sogood! Fuuuuuck!" Bucky huffs and puffs his pleasure against my swollen lips.

His fist slams down against his hood, ceasing his rubbing on my pulsating clit as he spurts deep inside my trembling cunt. I can't help but to soak in his grunts of love and praises to me.

Baring his weight on me to keep me in place, he splashes another lava hot jet of cum against the walls of my pussy and it feels too fucking good to feel James Buchanan Barnes fill me up with savagely massive load of cum. I watch him quake as he erupts 2 more explosive sprays inside before pulling out, shooting the last of his cum on my cocoa brown slit.

"You planned this.." Bucky accuses, not wasting any time to catche his breath. His eyes planted where he smears his thick cream allover my pussy as he waits patiently for my response. Daddy doesn't stop till my pussy's covered in his cum. Only then does slip my legs from his shoulders, my snug bottoms back in place and his still very hard dick back into his jeans.

Tired eyes meet my heavy-lidded gaze but I take a few deep breaths to steady myself before I answer. My pussy is already sore but fluttering for more as I bask underneath Bucky's muscular frame.

"I did. Came up with a mastermind plan." I say proudly, my own smirk comin out to tease him.

"Oh really? And how many steps did this 'mastermind plan' have?" He asks with a raised brow, as he zips and buttons his pants

"Just 4." I answer shortly, knees comin up to squeeze at his hips and rub my hands down his abs to the loops of his jeans.

"Which were?"

"Well step 1, purposefully fuck up my car so-"

Bucky cuts me off mid sentence, leaning down so the tip of his nose almost touches mine. His hands grip each of my thighs firmly as quickly yanks me flush against his body and speaks in a low growl.

"I knew it woman! I've been wasting my fuckin time workin on your goddamn car for weeks and- You know what? Talk is cheap; time to pay the piper, honey."

[whxre-bxby]

I wish people would write more soft romantic fics like you do, you write it really well!

Thank you bbygrl lemme give u a kiss <3 here's round two

"Hopelessly Devoted To You"

Masterlist

Summary: The RDA has a capacity issue and the recom's have been kicked out of their accommodations. When Quaritch says you're sharing a room with Lyle, it seems to bother him. You don't understand why so you confront him and eventually one thing leads to another and he's confessing his love to you.

WARNINGS: SMUT, fluff, little bit of angst, fingering, oral f. receiving, dirty talk, bad language, penetration, bonding (tsaheylu), arguing

Word Count: 6137

"Hopelessly Devoted To You" (From Grease) - Olivia Newton-John

The RDA was recently having a little space crisis. A new spaceship of workers arrived on Pandora this morning and they were struggling to find accommodation for them. 

They were behind in building plans of expanding Bridgehead City and were now facing the consequences. 

While the recom team was one of the most important muscles of this entire place, the RDA still prioritised their human workers and we found out the hard way. 

After a long day of training and exploring the jungle, we came back to find our bags packed and in the hallway outside our rooms. As you can imagine, Quaritch wasn't having it one bit and he let all his rage out by yelling at Ardmore. 

She got so pissed she threatened to have us all start sleeping outside because we need twice as much space and different air. 

That shut Quaritch up because he wasn't going to have his best team sleep outside on Pandora. 

Luckily Ardmore didn't let her conflict with the Colonel influence her decision of where we sleep too much. She let us take rooms which were located further away from the centre of Bridgehead and we were on our way there right now. 

The recom team walked through hallways, jet runways and large storage facilities to reach the specialised rooms. Quaritch was leading the way while we all followed. I walked with slumped shoulders, dragging my bag behind me. Z dog yawned and it made me drop my head and yawn too. 

I noticed how others would always take precautions when we passed. Sure we were 3 times their normal size but it was a little silly. Then again I enjoyed walking past them, knowing everyone except people like Ardmore are intimidated by us. Maybe she is too. 

Finally, the exhausted team arrived at the Na'vi-designed rooms, filled with Pandora's air. 

We stopped and the Colonel turned around and sighed, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. 

I leaned against a wall, dropping my bag by my feet and closing my eyes for a few seconds. 

"Alright squad, listen up." The Colonel spoke and I opened my eyes, trying to give him all the attention I had left. 

"I hate to do this to you, especially after such a rough day..." 

I hold my breath, eyes opening a little more just to make sure I'm hearing him properly. Oh god, bad news. Did some of us have to sleep outside? I would rather take the hallway. 

"But since we are dealin' with a space problem-" he sighs, taking a deep breath to break the news to us. 

"...some of you are sharin' rooms." 

My eyes widen, but I am a little relieved that we are not sleeping outside or that our rooms don't have a roof or a mattress. 

"Because my day has been as bad as yours I picked the names at random. Alright startin' with..." Quaritch spoke, naming soldier after soldier and whether they shared a room or whether they were alone and also which room they had. 

Everyone's name had been called up except Lyle and me. While others were already walking off and high-fiving, Lyle and I waited with perked ears. 

And yes we both noticed the way the Colonel avoided eye contact with us. It made me dread to hear the words he was about to say. 

He sighed, pinning his ears back and re-reading his list again. 

"Wainfleet. Y/N. You're sharin' a room." He said, glancing at us for a split second before grabbing his own bag. Of course, he had his own room

I just blankly stare at him for a few seconds. But it’s not such a big deal to me. I didn’t really mind.

Lyle however didn’t seem happy and I wasn’t sure whether I should make fun of his silly behaviour or whether I should be offended. 

Lyle was looking at the Colonel as if head lost his mind. 

“Sir- sir! You can’t be serious.” he said, calling after Quaritch who was retreating to his own room. 

“Very serious Corporal.” Quaritch said, getting his keys without even looking at Lyle. I’m just standing there and watching. I had the keys in my hand but I wanted to see what Lyle was doing. 

“But-” 

“We’re on a deadly planet here Wainfleet. If your biggest concern is sharin‘ a room with one of your most trusted soldiers, I’m gon’ start thinkin’ you ain’t suitable for this mission.” Quaritch warned, turning to Lyle and glaring at him. 

That did it, that shut him up. 

Quaritch stared him down for a few seconds before giving me an apologetic nod and going into his room, leaving Lyle standing outside in silence. 

I shrug it off, walking down the hall to find our room number. It’s not that far down and I reach it quickly, taking the small keys I was given and unlocking it. I can feel Lyle watching me but I don’t want to say anything to him. 

Was I so bad to share a room with? Does he secretly hate me that much?

I heard him pick up his own bag and follow me while I had unlocked the room, flicking the light switch on. 

It really wasn’t a nice room but I didn’t complain, walking inside. 

Lyle arrived at the door. 

“Wow, what a shithole.” he mumbled, looking around before closing the door behind him. I don’t answer. 

I enter what is meant to be the bedroom and freeze. This was going to be complicated. 

Lyle walked up behind me and was met with the same sight. 

“No fuckin’ way.” he groaned out in frustration while both of us looked at the double bed. 

“I could kill the Colonel right now.” he muttered, seeming very agitated. Lyle was starting to already get on my nerves. 

“I don’t think so.” I mumble, walking to one side of the bed and putting my bag next to it. 

He picked up my words and noticed the tone I used. 

“What’s up with you? You on your period or somethin’?” he asked and I rolled my eyes. No fucking way did he just ask me that. 

“No, you moron.” I answer a little louder this time while unzipping my bag. Lyle stays standing where he is. 

“What then?” he asked, completely oblivious to how he’s been complaining. 

“Is it such a big deal to share a room?” I ask, putting my hands on my waist while my ears are tipped back, clearly showing my annoyance. His own ears flatten when he realises I’m mad at him. 

“Am I that bad?” I ask, looking at him before returning to unpack my clothes. 

Lyle looks dumbstruck for whatever reason. 

“No, no of course not it’s not that.” he says, trying to save himself but I’m already pissed. 

“What is it then?” I snap back and he seems taken aback by my words.

“Oh right, you’re not mature enough to share a fucking room.” I add with a scoff and now he looks mad too. But he doesn’t say anything. 

“Don’t talk to your superior like that.” he says after a minute and I almost laugh. 

“Yeah right, superior my ass you’re not suitable to be a Corporal if you can’t grow the fuck up.” 

I did feel like I was crossing the line with my words a little but I couldn’t seem to stop. My bag is thrown from the bed by me and I grab my toiletries and towel to go shower. I can’t even look at him he’s gotten me so mad. 

Lyle stares me down when I walk past him and into the shower, quickly closing and locking the door behind me. 

Not even five minutes in and I needed a break. 

….

I sigh, taking in a deep breath before putting my hand on the door handle of the bathroom. 

Lyle and I had an odd relationship and it seemed to always change. Sometimes we avoided each other. Other times it felt like we were the best of friends. Once, I thought I felt a connection with him and genuinely thought he might end up being my boyfriend. That’s how much has happened between us. We never did anything. The highest point of things we’ve done together was hugs and flirting. I fell asleep on him once too, but that was it. 

During the flirting phase, he once looked at me like I was all that mattered to him. A look you would see in movies with eyes twinkling and all that. I thought I was in love with him but the next day, he went back to barely acknowledging me and we started from the beginning of the cycle again. 

A week ago, we were at the close friends stage once again and I was happy around him. When Quaritch announced the rooms I thought Lyle and I would high-five each other too but seems like he had other plans. 

My heart is racing as I try to collect myself before stepping outside. I open the door and walk out in my so-called pyjamas. It was a pair of shorts and a loose old shirt which… actually used to belong to Lyle. 

He’s laying on the bed and staring at the ceiling but his head tilts over to me when I exit the steamy bathroom. 

“Took ya long enough.” he said and his tone was no longer annoyed. But damn did his sentence still annoy me. 

“Miss me that bad?” I ask, surprising myself with the words that slipped from my mouth. I wanted to actually throw an insult at him but this worked too I guess. 

He seems to be amused by what I said and rolls to his side to look at me, who has walked to my side of the bed again. 

“Maybe… Buttercup.” he replies and I can tell he was thinking about whether he should risk calling me that or not. 

I glare at him, flattening my ears back again before I return my attention to packing away the shit I took out before. 

“Oh come on, you used to like me callin’ you that.” he said and I took a deep breath to control myself and not snap at him. He was so confusing it frustrated me. Suddenly, he hates me and now it’s as if he’s forgotten how he was complaining before. 

“Yeah, back when you weren’t a dick.” I say. Oops, maybe the self-control faltered for a split second.

Lyle’s ears perked up. He was surprised by my mouth again. 

“When did I become one?” he asks with a small chuckle. Great, now he thinks it’s funny. 

“Maybe when you decided that I was such a bitch you can’t share a room with.” I say, turning my head over my shoulder but not looking at him. 

“Or when you don’t talk to me the day after we were finally having fun together again.” 

Lyle stays quiet while I just angrily refold my clothes. I hear the bed creek and Lyle get up and somehow I secretly hope he is walking to me to give me a hug. If he would I would probably break down. 

But no, I hear him gather his things and he leaves the room, closing the bathroom door behind him with a thud. 

“Sure, just walk away. Not like I matter to you.” I mumbled under my breath. I was feeling all sorts of emotions and to be completely honest, if I were completely alone right now I would just cry myself to sleep. 

Mainly because I was angry and when I get angry my eyes tear up. I was sad because he didn’t treat me like the friend I was to him but I was also sad because… I don’t think I want to just be his friend anymore. I was attracted to Lyle and I hated myself for it. 

Every time we got close and he pushed me away again, I swore to myself that that would be the last time it happens. But each time he comes back and is all friendly and kind again, I can’t help but accept him. 

I sit on the bed with my legs and arms crossed while in deep thought, listening to the running shower water coming from the bathroom.

The door opens minutes later and Lyle steps out. I snap out of my thoughts and glance at him. 

He’s just wearing the loose shorts that he sleeps in. His torso is bare and speckled in water droplets. 

I rip my gaze from him, not wanting him to see but Lyle smirked to himself because he noticed my lingering eyes. 

I stared down at my feet as Lyle sat on the bed next to me. 

He too was thinking and then his ears perked forward as he thought of an idea. Teasing you or doing things to get you to laugh were good ways of getting your attention and having you talk to him. 

He wasn’t good at starting conversations so he needed you to talk, even if it was scolding him. He was able to mostly turn the conversation in a positive direction but it had to start. 

He picked up his dirty sock and tossed it to you.

I saw the sock fly towards me and it landed on my legs. Immediately I sat up, grimacing a little. It wasn’t disgusting because the sock was only a day old and it didn’t look dirty but I wanted him to know I didn’t think it was funny. 

“Ew Lyle, why would you do that?” I complain, scrambling to my feet. 

“Do what?” he asked, trying to suppress a laugh. 

I snatch the sock from the bed, grabbing for my bag to get my own dirty clothes and throw the whole pile on him but I only now notice it's gone. 

“Wha- where’s my-” I start before my head shoots to Lyle who is avoiding eye contact. He didn’t expect such a reaction and he was a little scared of what you would do now. 

“Lyle I swear to god-” I start almost shouting while I stomp over to his side of the bed. I can see my bag hidden next to his nightstand and I want to go and grab it back. I throw the sock back on him but suddenly he is scrambling up to his feet and he’s in my way. 

“Wait Y/N-” he says and his hands reach for me but I dodge them as if they were sharp and take steps back. The last thing I needed was him holding or touching me. I would as I said break down. His arms found mine but I wriggled it out of his grasp with fast movements.

Quickly I start walking away and retreating back to my side but Lyle is quicker and when I reach the foot of the bed his arms encircle my body, preventing me from taking a step further. 

They tighten and wrap around my middle, pulling me against him. I freeze in my movements and all the muscles in my body tense. 

I can’t give in. It’s happened too many times. 

He’s holding me against him while I keep my eyes clenched closed. 

“Y/N I’m sorry…” he softly says, his breath fanning against the skin near my ear. 

I shakily exhale after hearing his words, turning my head away from him. He can see how much I’m fighting him. 

“I know I’ve been an idiot.” he says and I fight the urge to aggressively nod. Instead, my ears once again strain all the way back and my tail stops moving. 

“Please talk to me.” he almost whispered and I picked up a hint of sadness in his voice. 

His arms loosened around my waist and fell to his sides. I turned around and took a step back to create at least a little bit of distance between us. 

Lyle watches me, finally letting us lock eyes. His gaze softens when he notices how glossy mine have become. 

“Why do you do it?” I ask, internally cursing myself when my voice becomes shaky. 

He knows exactly what I mean because he looks away in shame. I’m helplessly staring at him, needing to hear some kind of answer. 

Lyle sighs before speaking. “I was trying to keep things professional…” he says and his voice is now gravelly. 

“Professional? By constantly pushing me away?” I ask, trying to make sense of it all. Then again I was glad he was such a forward and bold person. He wouldn’t usually dance around things, he says what’s on his mind.

His sad eyes meet mine and his look answers my question with a yes. 

“You heard the Colonel. You’re one of our best soldiers. I don’t wanna screw it up for either of us.” he says. I don’t know how to answer that. 

“You’re one of my… best soldiers.” Lyle adds. This cheesy asshole. Somehow it‘s working.

“How would our friendship ever screw it up?” I ask, thinking he’s talking about us being friends. 

He gazes deep into my eyes as if he were searching for something to tell him I didn’t mean what I just said. 

“It wouldn’t be the friendship doin’ that.” he faintly replies. There it is again. That look. He’s doing it right now, looking at me with big eyes as if I were everything in the world. It’s making my heart warm up and my knees weak. 

“Lyle, what are you talking about?” I ask, wondering whether he means what I’m thinking. 

He straightens his posture a little, looking up at the ceiling for a second to steady himself in reality before taking a deep breath and locking eyes with me again. He seems to zone out a little while staring at me.

“I’m so in love with you…” he whispers. His ears droop and his body slumps a little in defeat. As if he too has been trying to fight the feeling and deny it but now it’s won and he told you. 

I just stare back at him and my lips part in an attempt to say something but no words come out. His words shock me but I can tell by the way he is looking at me that he means them. 

“I’ve been trying to hide it but every time I do that I can see it hurts you,” he continues talking, confessing all his feelings to me and somehow I am grateful for that because I am currently speechless. 

“And I don’t want to be doin’ that anymore. I want this,” he says, pointing between him and me “to be more than just friends.”

“I’m sorry…” he adds when my silence becomes unbearable for him. “I just needed you to know.” 

His gaze flickers between me and the ground. Lyle is clearly nervous and his anxiety is eating him from the inside out right now while he awaits my response.

He’s expecting a clear rejection because he thinks you only want to be friendly with him.

“You moron.” I say in disbelief with a scoff. Lyle flinches a little at my words, now fully staring at the ground.

All the worrying and crying I’ve gone through, all because he was suppressing his feelings for me. 

“I thought you hated me.” I say and a look of confusion floods his sad face. 

He looks up at me with a glimpse of hope and when I reach for his dog tag and pull him down a little, his eyes widen and his ears perk up. 

I pull him to me, eliminating the space between us and pressing our lips together. 

For a few seconds, Lyle doesn’t move. It hasn’t fully loaded in his head yet that I’m kissing him. 

Once he replays what just happened, he deepens the kiss and his arms are once again around me, pressing me right up against him. 

We pull away and just stare at each other. A huge smile finally brightens Lyle’s face and he’s laughing. It makes me smile too. 

“No fucking way.” he says, looking at me in disbelief. “You’re into me?” he asks, suppressing another laugh. He needs one last confirmation before he can feel relieved from the stress. 

“I know, it’s bad.” I say with a grin, teasing him. 

“Come on, just say it properly so I know.” Lyle pleads. 

I take a deep breath. “Corporal Lyle Wainfleet, my attraction to you has been the cause of my lack of sleep this month and the month before. Maybe even the month before that.” 

I’m smiling like an idiot at him now too. “Yes, I love you dumb ass.” 

“Fuck princess, you don’t know how happy you make me.” he replies, his huge smile spreading across his entire face before he pulls me into him once again for a kiss. This time I wrap my hands around his neck and his arms start running all over my body. He’s gripping my waist, squeezing my hips and finally allowing one of his hands to test the waters and rest on my ass. 

I break the kiss by laughing and it makes him chuckle. 

“What?” he asks, wondering what’s so funny. 

“I really thought you didn’t like me and here you are so desperate for me.” I joke and he sheepishly grins. 

“I couldn’t get you outta my head since the day we woke up like this.” he said, referring to our resurrection on Pandora. 

I smile, looking down for a brief moment when I feel my cheeks start to heat up. 

“Shut up, that’s so cheesy.” I say with a breathy laugh, poking him in the chest. It seems to just spur him on. 

Lyle’s mission is now to get you as flustered as possible.

“I’ve dreamed about you too, no kidding.” he said and I shake my head, pretending like I don’t want to hear it. 

“They weren’t always workplace-appropriate dreams either.” he says, leaning down and smirking at me.

“Oh my god.” I say, clutching my reddened face in my palms.

“Don’t hide yet I’m not done.” he chuckles, gently pulling my hands from my face. 

“Sometimes, when I’m in the shower…” he starts talking and I know this is going in a very bad direction. “... or when I’m alone in my room at night…” Oh god, help me please. “I touch-” 

“Okay! Okay!” I say, my face completely flushed. 

“What’s wrong, you embarrassed?” he coos, teasing me. 

“Never.” I say, accepting the challenge. I was never bold with my words so I was going to unleash the dirtiest hell on him and shock him.

“Sometimes…” I say, grinning and tiptoeing my fingers up his bare chest. His grin slowly retreats and he watches me. 

“When I finger myself…” I say, sounding as seductive as possible. Boom, just like that all teasing and smiling was flushed away and gone from Lyle. He was completely shocked by my words and could not believe I was saying that. 

“I push them in as deep as possible… and I imagine it’s you doing it.” I whisper and watch as Lyle gets literal goosebumps. His mouth also happens to be hanging open a little. 

“And I think of how you would feel like inside me.” I say, slyly smiling up at the dumbstruck blue marine. 

He can’t believe it. “Fuck, you’re driving me crazy.” Lyle curses, adjusting his shorts and my smile turns into a grin. “Don’t stop.” he says and it sounds very desperate. 

“When I cum, I moan your name.” I add and he groans at my words, not taking his eyes off me for even a second. I can’t remember the last time I saw him blink. He isn’t blushing either because Lyle just rarely gets embarrassed but my words definitely affect him more. 

“But I’ve been so stressed lately, I haven’t been able to help myself anymore.” I say, faking a sad and helpless voice which seems to really do it for him. 

“Since I sometimes think of you… I think I need some help.” I say, tracing my fingertip down his chest muscle. 

“Only sometimes?” he asks in a joking manner, playfully raising an eyebrow. 

I grin, knowing just how to get under his skin. “Mhm. Sometimes it’s someone else.” 

His grin drops. “Take that back.” he says and I’m biting my lip to hold back laughter. 

“Make me.” I say, knowing that will trigger the right things in Lyle. 

It does.

“Oh I will.” he says, tugging me by my arm and pushing me back onto the bed. I fall back, bouncing down on the mattress before looking up at him. He’s towering over me and I scoot backwards, trying to create a distance between us again but this time he won’t let it happen. 

“I’m gonna make you feel so good your legs will stop workin’.” Lyle says and I gasp when he tugs me back. 

My stomach twists in excitement and anticipation of what he has planned. 

He glides his hands up and along my legs, fumbling with the hem of my shirt and grinning. 

“You look good in my clothes.” he says and I smile. 

“I always wear this when I think of you.” I say, trying to make him hornier. 

“Oh you’re in for it now.” he says, with dilated pupils and a grin. 

“Can I?” he asks for permission to remove my clothes. 

“Yes, sir.” I say, making him smile. He pulls my shorts down my legs, leaving my bottom half bare in front of his predatory eyes. 

“Fuckin’ hell… you don’t know how much I’ve dreamed of this.” he says, not taking his eyes off my pussy. 

My cheeks heat and I try to close my legs to shield myself from his prying stare but he won’t let it happen. His hands push my legs open again and hold on beneath my thighs. 

Lyle is kneeling by the edge of the bed, leaning against the mattress as he pulls me closer to him. One of my legs rests on his shoulder and he gives it a kiss, before slowly kissing down my inner thigh. 

When he nears my crotch he inhales and the next time he opens his eyes, I can almost only see his dark pupils. 

He can’t wait or waste a second more. It looks so inviting to him and your scent has become irresistible. 

Lyle leans his head down and sticks his tongue out. He flattens it out and licks a long stripe from my hole to my clit. I gasp, balling my hands into fists. 

Such a small action had me already feeling this good. 

“Oh fuck-” I breathily whimper and Lyle wishes he could savour those noises forever. 

He needs to hear more and he can’t fight the urge to taste you anymore. 

Lyle buries his face into my cunt, tightening his grip around my thighs so that I can’t escape. 

I squeak in surprise while my mouth falls open. He starts fully eating me out, licking and sucking on everything he can access. 

I arch my back off the bed, already feeling high off of him. 

“Lyle-” I mewl and he growls against my heat. I know I won’t last long because I’ve been longing for his touch for a long time already. 

His tongue is flicking over my clit and he lets go of my thigh with one hand, slowly pushing a finger into me. I gasp, clasping my hand over my mouth so that I don’t accidentally scream. 

Luckily the walls here were thick for once.

He pushes it in, thrusting it in and out for a while before adding a second finger. 

God, it feels so much better when he does it. 

The feeling of penetration mixed with the stimulation of my clit has me whining and whimpering incoherent words.

I try to suppress my pleasure a little, just so that I can last longer and extend this euphoric feeling. That plan goes to shit once Lyle starts purring. His chest is rumbling and The vibrations go through his tongue which is pressed against my most sensitive area. 

“Fuck- Lyle I’m gonna-” I say, unable to stop the approaching orgasm. He doesn’t stop, in fact he deepens his actions making me clench my thighs around his head. 

My orgasm hits me like a brick and then I’m falling apart while Lyle is fingering the life out of me. 

My chest is heaving and I manage to open my eyes again, remembering where I am. Lyle pulled away, resting his arms on my trembling legs and giving me a shit-eating grin. He licked his lips while keeping his eyes firmly locked with me and I sighed. 

“Was that how you imagined it?” he asks, teasing me. I scoff. 

“Better. So much better.” 

He grins. “Good, we’re not done yet.” he says, climbing onto the bed and over me. He helps me scoot up so that my head is laying on the pillow while hovering above me. 

“God you look so good.” I mumble, feeling up his bare chest. My common sense was gone. I was still recovering from my intense orgasm so I could only confess every thought that came to mind while looking at Lyle with half-lidded eyes. 

“Look at you, buttercup. Fuckin’ goddess. I don’t even know how I managed to pull you.” he says with a smile, slowly inching my shirt up. I know he took my compliment to heart though. He would prefer me saying he looked hot or that his body was toned rather than being told his eyes are beautiful. He wasn’t the poetic romantic type. 

I lift myself off the bed a little and he pulls my and his shirt over my head, throwing it down next to the bed. 

When his eyes meet my bare chest he becomes weak. 

“I’m fallin’ asleep on those.” he said as if he were reserving my breasts, unable to tear his eyes from them.

I chuckle. “I didn’t know you were a ‘titty’ man.” 

He grins, kissing my cheek. “I’m a ‘you’ man.”

I giggle before he starts peppering kisses from my collarbone and onto my chest. He sticks his tongue out and flicks it over a nipple. 

I wouldn’t have expected it to feel good but it oddly did and it made me arch my back off the mattress and into him. Lyle’s other hand came up and groped my other breast before massaging it. 

My heavy breaths have Lyle struggling to control himself. 

The straining of his shorts is becoming painful, so he rids himself of the remaining clothes he has on. 

“Holy fuck.” I say, shamelessly just staring at his erection. I knew it would be bigger but this was massive. Compared to me as well. I would probably struggle to take him. 

He grins and moves back over me. This time, his braid falls over his shoulder and onto my chest with a small thud. 

It reminds me of something and the same idea seems to be in his head. 

We exchange looks and he smiles. “Do you wanna try it?” he asks. 

I reach for my own one, examining it for a few seconds.

“Sure, I just don’t quite know how it works…” I say. 

“Me neither.” he chuckles. We mess around with them a little until I open the end of my braid and watch the small nerves move around. Lyle watches mine before mirroring what I did. Once he revealed his own cord we just followed our natural instincts and held them together. Before they even touched, the little tentacles were reaching for eachother. Now they are entangled and become one. 

I saw white light for a good few long seconds and my senses seemed to strengthen and expand. I managed to feel a part of Lyle and I could tell he felt the same with me. 

Without further ado, we followed what nature told us to do. We couldn’t wait any longer. Both of us have needed this for so long, the release was so close, we couldn’t lose another second. 

Lyle parted my legs again, pressing his hips in between them. I held onto his shoulder with one hand while resting one leg on his lower back.

He lined himself up with me, pressing the tip of his leaking cock against my dripping heat. I clenched my jaw in anticipation and then Lyle finally pushed his hips forward, fully entering me. I was so lubricated that he slid in with ease, stopping once he bottomed out just to relish in the feeling. 

I drop my head back, finally feeling like my needs were being fulfilled. 

“God damn, buttercup you’re so tight ‘round me.” he groaned, closing his eyes for a few seconds. 

“Please move.” I whine, desperately needing to feel more of him.

I don’t need to tell Lyle twice. He’s pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back in with long and precise strides. Each time he jolts forward a new wave of pleasure shoots through me. He leans down, wanting to be close to me. 

Our lips crash together and we heavily make out while Lyle continues to fuck himself into me. After a few minutes, we are breathing so heavily that we have to break the kiss. We just rest our foreheads against each other, our hot breath fanning against the other's face. 

“So good.” I whimper, closing my eyes while Lyle rubs his cheek against mine. 

He’s speeded up a little, starting to rut his hips against mine, trying to force himself further into me with each thrust. 

Lyle hits a spot inside me that makes my body jolt in ecstasy and since we are bonded, he feels it too. Quickly, he rearranges his hips and starts to relentlessly pound into me while groaning and hissing. 

This feels so much better than I could have ever imagined. 

Lyle’s thrusts are becoming a little sloppy but I don’t blame him because I’m close to another orgasm again. 

“Lyle, too much… I can’t-” I whimper, still sensitive from the previous one. 

“Come on baby, one more f’ere me.” he grunts, encouraging me. I can’t answer because my mouth is falling open. 

He feels how I’m slowly starting to clench even more around him. “That’s it Buttercup, let go.” he whispers, kissing my neck. I nod, wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling him in. 

Lyle growls, speeding up a little more just before he pushes me over the edge and I swear I can see stars. My pussy’s walls clench down around him and Lyle only manages to thrust into me a few more times before spilling his load deep into me. 

He moans, clenching his eyes closed and biting down on my shoulder. His fangs sink just beneath my skin but I’m so overwhelmed by my orgasm it doesn’t even hurt. 

After a few moments, my legs loosen and fall off of him. Lyle stops desperately grinding into me and he drops his head into the crook of my neck. I wrap my arm around him and he gently lays himself down on me. 

Our heavy breaths mix and after a few minutes he scoots down a little lower so that his head is in fact lying on my breasts. Lyle gently pulls out of me in the process and I chuckle at his behaviour while he shoots me a cheeky smile. 

“You’re mine now.” he whispers, wrapping his arms around me. I smile, tracing the stripes on his head. Our braids disconnected but I felt more connected to Lyle than I ever have before. 

“No one else gets to have you.” He said, tracing his hands down my hips before returning to just holding me again.

“I don’t have a problem with that.” I smile and he chuckles. 

“Say it again. How you feel about me.” he says, looking up. I’m not quite sure what he means. 

“I need to hear it once more before I fall asleep.” he says. Oh, of course. 

“I love you, Lyle.” I whispered, cradling his cheek. He looks relieved as if he were still somehow worried I would have changed my mind. 

“I love you more. And I’ll take care of you.” he said with a grin. I smile in return before my eyelids become heavy. 

The Na’vi body seemed to be able to fall asleep much easier. 

Lyle did in fact sleep on my chest for most of the night. However, he made sure and waited that I fell asleep first before he closed his eyes. 

He felt protective of me now and even though there was no current danger, he was passionate about caring for me.

I wonder how things will be between us after this. We still work together, meaning we might have to keep this relationship secret.

Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @number1gal

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumptober 2023

No. 12 Insomnia | No. 29 Panic | No. 31 “Take it easy.”

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Prison Era

Warnings: Hallucinations

“Can’ sleep again?” Daryl drawled, voice rougher than usual with sleep. He lifted his head from the pillow when he felt the mattress dip with your weight. You shook your head, not meeting his eyes. “S’been days, Y/N. Yer startin’ ta look like a walker.”

“You say the nicest things, Dixon.” You got up and stumbled over to the railing of his perch, looking out over the darkness of the cell block. Your body ached. Your head was fuzzy. You felt nauseous and short tempered. But sleep wouldn’t come. No matter how hard you tried. You could only see the faces of the ones you’d lost. Amy. Jim. Dale. Andrea. Shane. Lori. T-Dog. ‘I couldn’t save any of them.’

“Ya can’ keep holdin’ on ta all tha’.” 

You quickly looked at him over your shoulder. ‘Was I talking out loud?’

“Yeah, ya were.”

“Shit.” You scrubbed a hand roughly over your face. You really were losing it. Daryl was sitting up now, his knees bent under the thin blanket with his forearms lying over them. He looked genuinely concerned. “I don’t wanna be in this world anymore.” You admitted quietly. “I’m scared to be awake. I’m scared to sleep.” Your lip began to tremble, your body too depleted to fight off the sting of tears threatening to fall. “I’m so tired.”

The archer observed you quietly, his expression unreadable. You weren’t sure why you came to him. You weren’t even sure where things stood with him. There had been gentle touches and whispered words, even a few kisses shared in secret, but most days, he just remained impassive and gruff. 

“I should let you get some sleep. I’m sorry I bothered you.” Your feet carried you quickly down the stairs, stumbling over the last step in your haste. 

The shower area was dark but the small windows let in just enough moonlight for you to at least see where you were going. Maybe you could just hide away there until morning. Your cell was too small, the terror and memories smothering you. The rest of the prison was inhabited by your small group and a few strangers. People you’d rather not give any reason to worry about you or your usefulness. You had already allowed Daryl to see too much. 

“He doesn’t feel that way about you, you know.” 

You spun around toward the voice to find the space behind you empty. You could have sworn—

“He doesn’t feel that way about anyone. Daryl is selfish.”

“Lori?” You whispered, spinning around again. And again you were met with no one. 

“You’re just a silly little girl. You’re not helping anyone. You never have, never could.”

“Dale?” You whimpered, the name barely leaving your lips before you heard Andrea just by your ear. 

“At least I was useful! You’re just a burden! They’ll be better off without you!”

“I’m trying! I just—”

“Try harder! Hell, you really wanna help, just go out past the fence and let the walkers take care of you.”

“One less mouth to feed, one less burden.”

“Shane, T… I’m doing my—” 

“Your best?” You heard Lori laugh mockingly as your back met the cold tile of one of the shower stalls, sliding down until you were on the floor. “Your best is pathetic.”

“Pathetic!”

“Pathetic!”

“Pathetic!”

Your hands flew to your ears, the word echoing in a flurry of voices and laughter. Your sobs grew louder, your eyes squeezed shut, and your back met the wall over and over as you rocked on the floor to try and get control over yourself. When you felt their hands on your arms, you screamed and flailed. They were gonna to take you to the walkers. They were going to laugh as you were ripped apart. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Easy.” 

The voices stopped suddenly and you pulled away, flattening yourself against the wall. Your eyes opened to find the space in front of you empty save for a concerned pair of electric blue eyes, the moonlight making them almost gray. 

“Take it easy.” Daryl’s tone was soft, his hold on your forearms was firm yet gentle in the most confusing way. 

“Daryl?” Your voice came out as nothing more than a small squeak being forced past the lump in your throat. 

“S’jus’ me.” When you threw yourself into his arms, he made no move to pull away. He simply remained crouched there, one arm around your shoulders, keeping you grounded for the moment. “Wha’ was tha’ all ‘bout?” He pulled back a little but you chased the feeling of protection he was offering, whether it was intentional or not. You didn’t answer him, but given the way he sighed, you thought he may have already known. “Okay.” He finally muttered and you thought he was going to move away and leave you there. 

He hoisted you up into his arms instead, backing out of the stall and then leaving the showers all together. You thought you could still hear whispers as the door closed behind you, your face instinctively burrowing further into his collarbone. 

“Is she okay?” Carol’s voice was full of concern, a small gentle touch brushing over the center of your back as Daryl kept walking. 

“She’s fine. Jus’ needs ta sleep.” He answered roughly. You were jostled slightly as he began to ascend the steps to your cell. You didn’t want to go there, not now that you had awakened everyone and proven those voices right. 

You were a burden. 

You sniffled and waited for him to deposit you and leave. Your back met the mattress slowly, gently, and the blanket was pulled over you a second later. But instead of the bottom of the top bunk, you saw the high ceiling of the cell block when you opened your eyes. 

You weren’t in your cell. 

“Daryl?” You questioned meekly, turning your head just as the blanket lifted once more and the archer crawled under it at your side. 

You were in his bed. 

“What’re you—” You blinked wide eyes at his chest when you were unexpectedly pulled tightly against him, his chin resting on the top of your head. 

“Try ta sleep now.” 

Your surprise dissolved into something else, walking the fine line between gratitude and guilt. You nodded minutely, wiping your eyes as best you could given the proximity. 

“Quit yer wigglin’.” 

“Sorry.” You muttered, sniffling again before you closed your eyes. You could actually feel the lure of sleep pulling heavily at your subconscious, your mind already growing blank and your eyelids too heavy to open. You felt safe and warm and right. You’d have to talk to him about what happened but that was a problem for tomorrow. “Daryl?” You mumbled, almost slurring the syllables. 

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.” 

His eyes opened, staring at the darkness over your head while the tension left your body and your breaths deepened, soft snores already puffing out against his skin. The archer pulled you a little closer. 

“Don’ ever hafta thank me, Y/N. I gotcha.”