#But then again how broken are these kids when the book ends
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Having late feelings about Beetee and his batch of children
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fanaticalthings · 8 months ago
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I really like the idea of the bat kids designating Dick and Jason's apartments as sibling gathering spots but for opposite reasons.
Sibling needs some comfort? Some eldest daughter advice? A shoulder to cry on or just a lil getaway spot from the chaos of Gotham? Dick's apartment is perfect.
But if a batkid wants to complain, maybe wants to talk shit about Bruce, or maybe even wants to discuss a lil felony in a judgement free zone? Jason's place it is.
And I like to imagine that while Dick readily keeps his doors open and reminds anyone that they can drop by anytime, it's the opposite for Jason.
Dude's got his place riddled with traps and locked up to the high heavens. He makes it obvious he doesn't want visitors, and vaguely insinuates that there are bombs rigged somewhere in his apartment so there's a always a 50/50 chance you might get blown up if he's feeling particularly bitchy one day.
But does that stop his siblings? Absolutely not. Unlike Dick (who assigns himself as the guiding older brother), Jason has been forcefully labelled as the older sibling you go to if you need to complain and stir up havoc. The hundreds of traps in his place mean nothing. And it's worse because Jason is never prepared for when someone drops in.
-----
[Jason, 3 hours into his sleep, blearily waking up to a weight on his chest at 4am]:
[Damian, perched atop him, eyes dead-centre locked onto Jason without blinking]: Hello, Todd-stop screaming it is unbecoming-I just came to tell you that father won't allow me to adopt another stray I found on patrol.
Jason, half-asleep and like 70% sure he's hallucinating: Wha-
Damian: I need you to blow up his car.
Jason:
-----
[Jason, arriving home after a 6 hour patrol, exhausted out of his mind, turning on the lights]:
[Stephanie, previously baking brownies in the pitch black darkness before Jason arrived]: Oh hey! Just thought I'd drop by, y'know, for fun.
Jason: Bruce yelled at you again.
Stephanie: Bruce yelled at me again.
And yes, while most of the time, it ends up as wholesome sibling bonding, sometimes the other batkids just feel like inconveniencing Jason just whenever, because what are siblings for?
[Jason waking up and seeing all of his traps and security systems disarmed and very deliberately broken in a way where he'll have to replace all of them instead of being able to reactivate them]:
[Jason, immediately dialing his phone angrily]: Tim, I swear to GOD-
-----
[Jason giving himself a rest-day and cooking some meals]:
[Dick somersaulting in through the open window unannounced (he missed his brother)]: Whatcha up to, littlewing? :>
Jason: GET OUT-
-----
[Jason casually reading a book, feeling a sudden chill up his spine]:
[Cassandra standing in the corner without so much as an exhale, watching Jason intensely. Who knows how long she's been there]:
Jason: Are you here to kill me
Cass:
Jason: Just make it quick.
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i-yap · 8 months ago
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Batboys+bruce x y/n thoughts
Now "the man" is dick grayson. Batman literally said Nightwing is what Batman should have been. He is kind he is understanding he is caring and patient and honestly if you are a little broken, u are assigned to dick . He is wanted by everyone, this is the guy you take home. this is the man who buys you flowers and serenades you and always keeps your boundaries in mind. this is the man that can read you like an open book. that sees the real you no matter how hard you try to hide. Not saying he doesn't have issues, he sucks at communication and commitment. he has a saviours complex. But with the right person, it just fades away and all there is left is the perfect man to marry and have kids and save the world. - aka the married couple
BUT jason is "the man for a woman" . He practically worships the ground you walk on( he lowkey does , like if you're away from the house he'll look at the apartment floor and be like...wheeererrr isss myyyy y/nnnn ) He will leave everything behind for you, will kill everyone no questions asked. Its really heavy and passionate and a little crazy but that's jason for you . It can be a lot for someone who needs personal space or has commitment issues or issues opening up. You got to be really kind, patient and loving when it comes to jason. Very good at reading people and a giver. - aka morticia and gomez
AND Bruce , that dude has a lot of responsibilities. He has no time, he is so busy, he is so tired, he cant be with someone seriously...but why does he want you so bad. You'll have to be strong and patient and forgiving and kind. You will have to force your way into his life and pull him away from all the madness. you are the golden saviour that drags him away from the hell he has been sinking into. pulls him away, encourages him to retire and shows him what a normal life and sleep schedule looks like. After all he has done and given, he deserves to retire with the woman he loves. In many comics, bruce becomes evil from this long life of crime fighting and paranoia or is killed . You save him, teach him that he can too have everything he tries to give other people. A family, peace and love- aka the saving grace
NOW Tim isnt like that at all He is free in all ways the other batboys are not. Dick is so tied down with his superhero responsibilities and jason is so needy and a little demanding to be with . Bruce is tired and not as full of energy . But you can be a kid with tim. there is spontaneity , there is adventure, there is freedom and rebellion and expression of self. The actual teenage love, lets go for a drive and end up in a bull riding contest tim wins and then shut down that ring so no bull is every hurt again. Teeths turning blue from that slushie that just gave him freezebrain. - aka teenage dirtbags
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kaivenom · 8 months ago
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One piece men first reaction to having a wet dream about you
Characters: Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Kid, Killer, Law
Warnings: NSFW, obviously
A/N: i am starting to think that i will put some of the future preferences with multiple parts, to give the One Piece Dilf a place too.
Masterlist
Monkey D. Luffy
Is surprised, a lot. He was dreaming about meat and suddently it transformed in your body, naked.
The cream of cakes and the juices from the meat covering all your body in a revealing pose.
When he oppened his eyes, he stared at the ceiling trying to process why you were on his dream.
Then he realized how his stomach felt strange and his pants incredibly tight.
He knew that feeling wasn't from hunger, so he let his hand travel to his crotch and palm it thru the underwear.
It felt really good, he finally slided his hand on his underwear and started to pump slowly his cock.
All he could think about is your body and how good would that image look in front of him.
When he was on the edge of cumming, he realized that maybe it he should go talk to you.
A broken moan escaped his lips while he got up from the bed, with a painfully hard member.
He needed to know if you can help him.
Roronoa Zoro
He feels "horrified", he tents to avoid feelings, talks or being emotional involved with anyone.
So, when he dream about you sucking him off with a smile, he got into a really bad mood.
Everyone noticed but nobody could know why, he got especially tense when you were around.
The end point came on lunch, when he had to saw you eat a hot dog, his mind went crazy of reminiscing all the things from his dream.
He went fast to the crow's net and tried to workout all the feelings away.
He got hard, really hard, to the point he couldn't concentrate on nothing.
After a whole hour of changing exercizes furiously, he sat down, trembling, sweating and whimpering... but not from the workout.
With a dissapointed grunt he started to jerk off, at first crusing your name with irritation and at the end letting out breathless moans.
He cummed a lot, all over his body. His only thought while he was heading to the showers was not to bump into you.
Vinsmoke Sanji
His hand was on his pants even before he wakes up.
He moans, whimpers and sights with every touch he imagine you do to him.
The vision of your breasts bouncing while you ride him, unable to touch you because his hands are tied up, that drives him crazy.
He doesn't know if he is still asleep or he is already awake, but he cums undone with a really loud moan.
He is not very good at pretending or trying to be quiet.
Then he felt bad about dishonoring you, but felt sooo good to him.
His day went crazy from there, having some avoidant attachment we could say.
He changes between being your living servant and licking your feet to locking himself on the kitchen.
You didn't understand that, it was really weird, but in fact, he gets away to hide the boner you make him feel.
He usually controls his impulses but after that dream he can't keep his hands out of himself.
He really wanted to aproach you on the kitchen and eat you out there, but he can't .... and then he feels bad about imagine it again.
He has a huge conflict between his desires and his chivalry.
Trafalgar Law
He feels ... unproffesional, he is your captain and you are his subordinate, he can't dream about that.
He tries to stay away from you, not from guilt but from embarrasment, from seeing you and only picturing your body riding him while he presses his chest against yours.
Then as the day passed by he starts to get closer to you, not conscientiously but his body someone tried to have some contact.
A little brush on the dinning room, setting himself behind you to get something on a "higher" shelf.
He tries to find excuses to see you alone, trying to have the courage to make a move... saying it to you or kissing you but he couldn't do it.
That lead to unnecesary visits to his office, helping him with some "new" projects on the lab, giving him books, etc.
At the end you spent all the day making stupid walks around the submarine and you got so angry you yelled at him.
He won't admit this part, but you made him hard with your yells at him.
Eustass Kidd
He gets up, not surprised at all to dream about you, he knows exactly what you do to him.
But dreaming about taking you from the back, all in four, his hands on your ass pressing firmly, that caught him out off guard.
He went to take a shower and couldn't resist to jack off under the hot water.
And It works, he is not hard anymore... Until he saw you later on the deck.
He is a very direct person but also a very arrogant one.
That results in having him trying to sound like a fuck boy, making you desire him and show it, before he even tells you he wants to fuck you.
Showing of his muscles and attributes, being extra confident and dominant thinking that the kind of stuff you like.
Once he realized he doesn't need to be that extravagant and just sit there and whisper naughty things on your ears, he will win his prize.
Killer
His dream his very connected with feelings becuase you two were in missionary, you looking at him with heart eyes full of love and lust. (without his helmet)
Goes straight forward to tell you.
Very mature from him, and plus having the helmet he can hide his blush.
When you go to take breakfast, he tells you, sounding very relaxed. He is trying to hide the fact that he is still hard.
He went so fast to tell you that his member didn't catch the message yet.
He presses his body to the counter trying to hide it.
He doesn't want to scary you or make you uncomfortable, he just wants to talk things.
After that, he tries to make distance a little bit to give you time to think.
But he can't help but give small glances to your body, he can't help it... and the helmet helps to be discreet.
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thewitchblue · 19 days ago
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"Are you... reading Twilight?"
You had asked Jason, who broke into your apartment while you were gone grocery shopping. He only gave you a hum and continued reading as you set your grocery bags on your kitchen table.
You watched him turn the page and felt a sense of dread. It was your copy from when you were 13 years old. It had notes and doodles in the margins. Did he read your notes? Of course he would. He reads the annotated versions of Jane Austen he has for fun. Why wouldn't he read your notes? The world seemed to be against you this day.
You were so mortified you didn't even hear him laugh at a doodle you had of Edward biting a dog with the word "nom" next to it. He was almost done with the book.
You've only been dating for a handful of months. Would the notes break up your relationship? You don't remember the majority of them.
You haven't touched the trilogy since school, and you originally didn't even want to read it. The social pressure from your friends became to be too much, and it felt like a religious experience at the time.
You had forgotten about the book entirely in the years you've had it crammed in a bookcase next to the rest of the series, which, with great horror, you saw he also pulled out to read.
"Don't tell me you're enjoying the book."
You said in disbelief. The memories run through your head of your blushing cheeks at simple words on pages while the girls ganged up on you to ask which team your on. What team is Jason on? Or has he read this before behind closed doors? He shrugged and simply replied,
"I am."
You wanted to bolt out the door, but you had melting limited addition candy cane ice cream in your grocery bag.
Instead of running away, you bravely start putting away your groceries with your eyes trained on Jason. He seemed to genuinely enjoy your trashy romance book that's so incredibly dated. This is so bizarre to you. He's a fan of the classics and loves books that he can revisit without cringing.
The book appeared partially destroyed by the abyss of your backpack with a torn cover and a broken spine, but it drew Jason's attention. Of course, it would draw his attention. He always said a well loved book is one you take everywhere. A book with a broken spine and torn cover is going to make him curious.
He never had the normal teenage phase, so he's never read the book. He was curious, and he was rewarded so far. He understands now why teenagers like the trilogy so far.
You decided to break into the ice cream. You tensed at every page turned. What did you write in there? You tried to remember. You vaguely remember writing "yummy muscles" on a page. You cringed. Oh, the horrors of a horny teen.
The ice cream was as delicious as you expected it to be. How could you look him in the eyes ever again? Will he tell the whole family? You were stress eating.
Jason finished the book and went to pick up the next one, but you plucked it out of his hands before he could open it and grabbed the final book as well.
"I'm seriously going to throw these in the shredder."
Jason smirked at you. He enjoyed your little doodles and notes. It was as if he was meeting you when you were kids. He pointed out,
"I think they are too big to shred, pipsqueak."
You pouted, which only made him more amused. He pulled you into his lap and kissed your cheek. You huffed,
"I can still try."
He laughed. You were so adorable. He might have to embarrass you more. He murmured to you,
"I especially enjoyed your note of 'delicious dog meat.'"
You groaned and held your face in your hands, making the books fall to the floor. You hated your past self in this moment. Why did you keep those books? For Jason to show up and read them?
The feeling of dread eventually went away the more he kissed you. You filed away the fact you can know for a fact Jason read Twilight now, and part of you wondered if he'll spiral into the hellscape of fanfiction as a result. You are going to burn those books.
You like to think you ended up with a better love story than Twilght. Sure, you may be dating a zombie instead of a vampire or werewolf like teen you had wanted (if we can have Superman, we can have a sexy vampire or werewolf), but your zombie is perfect in his own ways.
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marauder-misprint · 2 months ago
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'You were important'
additional content
Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader
9.5k words
cw: Minor use of y/n, fluff, swearing, mentions of Walburga’s great parenting, hurt/comfort, swearing 
You’re not exactly sure when you first met Sirius. You both came from unhappy homes. His was just empty of love in general; his parents, cold and disconnected, held impossible expectations of him. Yours was a broken love; parents that had onced loved each other but only stayed together out of obligation to you. You knew your parents tried to hide their growing distaste for each other from you, but they were bad at it. Their arguments filled the house almost nightly.
Your friendship with Sirius was born out of literal escapism. You had taken to going to the park near your house whenever you couldn’t take being in the house anymore. At one point, the curly haired boy started showing up and you’d sit on the swings together. It wasn’t until a while later that you actually talked to him. And the two of you became friends, disparaging your parents together. 
“Some people just shouldn’t be parents,” you had said to him once. 
He agreed. The two of you made your own fun as two unsupervised kids did: he liked to break things and you liked to set things on fire. You weren’t always causing trouble, sometimes opting to go exploring down every alley within the surrounding neighborhoods. But at the end of the day, you’d always go back to your own homes. You could easily be described as best friends, despite not knowing his last name and he yours. 
Your friendship hit what you thought would be a minor bump at the end of the summer after you both turned eleven. You were hanging out at your usual park, chatting at the swings like you always did. He told you that he had been enrolled in a boarding school. You stared at him, silent for a beat, but then you told him that you had been too. 
“So… I’ll see you at Christmas?” he asked.
“Yeah. Don’t go forgetting about me.”
“It’s just school. I won’t forget you.”
Little did you know that you would be going to the same school as him. You had managed to not see him on the platform, on the train nor on the boats. You didn’t see him at all prior to the sorting ceremony. 
“Sirius Black.”
The dark curls you were all too familiar with walked up the steps to the tri-legged stool and the sorting hat was placed on his head. 
After a few moments, it shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!”
The table of crimson and gold erupted into the cheers while the rest of the hall seemed to fill with whispers of uncertainty. You understood their whispers. You would have to have been a muggle to not know about the Black family. As you waited for your turn to be sorted, your mind spun with questions to ask him when you had the chance. How had he never mentioned his last name? How had there been no accidental magic between the two of you? Was everything he said about his parents true? What about the rumors about him? How come you had never seen his brother?
You were ripped out of your thoughts at the call of your name. You climbed the steps and took a seat on the stool for your sorting. You glanced over at him. He was staring at you with a white face. You were only given a singular moment of eye contact before the hat made its decision.
“SLYTHERIN!”
As you made your way to the green and silver table, you tried to find his eyes again, but he wouldn’t look your way. And it stayed that way. For the whole first week, he wouldn’t look at you and always made a point to not be near you, which wasn’t difficult as he surrounded himself with his fellow Gryffindors. You didn’t speak until he approached you in the library. 
“How are you here?” he whispered, pretending to look for a book in the same section as you. His voice made you jump.
“I could ask you the same thing,” you hissed back at him. “Never mentioned you’re a wizard.”
“You didn’t either.”
“Technically, I’m a witch. You never said your last name.”
“Some muggles know my family.”
Silence. 
“We’re going to pretend we don’t know each other,” he said. 
“What?” you asked, turning to face him despite him still not looking at you. 
“You don’t know me. I don’t know you.”
Then he grabbed a random book from the shelf and walked away. You watched him walk away in utter shock. How were you supposed to pretend you didn’t know him?
Sirius took what he said to you very seriously. You were just another Slytherin to him, someone as bad as the rest of his pure-blood-obsessed family. You weren’t friends anymore. Despite making your own friends, the semester felt lonely.
You had hope that over Christmas break he’d come to the park. The promise of seeing each other at Christmas was a spark of hope that lingered in your chest. A spark that was extinguished when he didn’t appear at the park; you were there almost every day for several hours. It was then that you gave up on those years of friendship. You’d have to learn to survive your parents without his company. 
---
You wonder if he thought about you as much as you thought about him. You weren’t friends anymore. You hadn’t spoken in years except for minor interactions.
“Excuse me.”
“Can you pass the frog warts?”
“Here.” 
“Can I get through?”
“Thanks.”
Yet Sirius still haunted your mind. You weren’t friends. But you cared for him. And caring for him was a distraction from your own home life. You just couldn’t show how much you cared for him in the normal ways, but it seemed as if fate knew that and gave you Regulus. Another boy who lived in the same house as Sirius with the same parents. You made it your mission to befriend him, letting him tell you details about his life and hiding how much you knew from Sirius. He didn’t tell you much, nor did he ask much about you. You had a quiet mutual understanding with Regulus, and that was enough for you. It was that understanding that made you two best friends. His walls slowly came down when he was around you. You were easily the one he trusted the most at Hogwarts and he became yours. It was an easy friendship. You treasured that, even if it sometimes reminded you of what you had had with Sirius. 
---
You had gotten used to being at the park by yourself. Sirius was never there anymore. You did a double take when you saw a boy with dark curly hair sitting on the swing. For a moment, you thought it was Sirius, but the hair was too short and not curly enough. His frame was thinner. Then it hit you. Regulus. 
You sprinted up to him and stood in front of him. He was silently crying. You had known him long enough to recognize the signs without actually seeing his face; he was an expert at hiding it. You knew he’d rather die than have anyone see him cry. 
“Regulus,” you breathe, kneeling down in front of him.
You hear his breath hitch and he looks up from his lap. The expression on his face makes you want to cry. It makes you want to hold him, using your grip to put his broken pieces back together. It hurts your soul to see him like this. The look changes from extreme hurt and sadness to confusion.
“How are… how are you here?” he asks.
You reach out to hold his hands. He doesn’t pull them away.
“Doesn’t matter right now. What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Sirius,” Regulus says, his voice tight. “He ran away. I don’t think he’s coming back.”
You press your lips into a thin line. Even based on what Regulus has told you, which didn’t measure up to everything Sirius had ever told you, you know that him being alone in that house wasn’t a good thing. You give his hands a squeeze, hoping it offers some kind of comfort.
“You’re going to be okay.” Maybe if you speak it into existence, it will be true. “You’re strong. You’re resilient. You’ve done all you can to make your parents proud. They can’t…”
He shakes his head before cutting you off. “They don’t have to be upset with me to be upset at me.”
“Do… do you know where he went?”
“I’m assuming the Potters.”
“Do you have somewhere to go?”
He blinks at you, emotion slowly draining from his face.
“I can’t leave.” It’s a firm statement.
“Regulus,” you say, almost pleading, but he just shakes his head again.
“I have to stay. I can’t leave. I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Regulus.” Your voice is softer, but your grip on his hands is stronger. “What if you had somewhere to go?”
He shakes his head again. “I told you. I have to stay… I should be getting back soon. Mother won’t be happy I’ve been gone so long…”
“Regulus Arcturus Black,” you say, trying to hold his attention. He looks into your eyes and you can see all the pain he’s holding in. “I don’t live far from here. My home’s not much, but it’s better. Safer.”
“Better? Safer?” he scoffs. 
“I come here often. I’ll be here if you change your mind,” you say, knowing he won’t. He was too proud and too determined to survive without Sirius. 
“I’ll see you at school.”
You watch as he walks away and you just know that you’re going to have to piece him back together when the fall comes. From what you know Sirius endured, you know he’ll need a careful hand. 
---
Come the fall, you find you were right. Regulus was numb to the world. He was silent and emotionless as the rest of his friends greeted him, pulling him into the compartment where you were. 
“Regulus,” you say as he sits next to you.
His back is pin-straight, like he couldn’t even think about slouching. You reach out to touch his arm when he doesn’t acknowledge you. When your hand touches his bicep, he turns to look at you and you see the sadness creep up into his face. You adjust how you’re sitting so you can pull him into you. He falls into your chest, not bothering to say anything and certainly not attempting to resist your touch. 
“I should have listened,” he mumbles into your arm that’s wrapped tightly around him.
“I know,” you whisper. 
He stays in your arms for most of the ride to Hogwarts, getting more comfortable as time passes and he shifts to periodically participate in the conversation with Dorcas, Pandora, Evan and Barty. The more time he spends with the group, the more life gets breathed back into him. It’s not much, but it’s something. By the time the train pulls into Hogsmeade Station, he’s laughed once and there’s a hint of a small spark of life in his eyes again. He throws an arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his side as you walk toward the carriages.
“Thank you,” he whispers, his breath hot on your ear.
You turn to look up at him. “Don’t be thanking me just yet, Reg.”
He chuckles softly.
“Love, you were somehow there when he left. That in itself is enough for me to be showering you in gratitude.”
“Going soft on me, are you?” you laugh, leaning more into his side. 
He rolls his eyes, a sign his old self is still there. 
“I care for you. And I’ll be damned if I ever let you forget that.”
He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I don’t think I can.”
“Good.” 
You stay by his side all through dinner and all evening in the common room. You didn’t let the boy out of your sight until you walked him to his dorm and he bid you goodnight. Once the door closes between you, you let your cheerful mask fall. You had tried to catch Sirius’ eyes during dinner but he seemed to look everywhere but the Slytherin table. It soured your mood, but you wouldn’t let Regulus see that. You had to be strong and gentle for Regulus. For the Black that wouldn’t fully push you out of his life. Not that you would give Regulus the option to do that. 
You could feel Dorcas and Pandora’s eyes on you as you stalk across the common room towards your dorm. You had been positively beaming when you walked away with Regulus and now, without him, you were scowling. They corner you in your dorm as you brush your hair, preparing for bed.
“So, you and Black?” Pandora asks, her tone light.
“What do you mean, Dory?” you respond, looking at her in the mirror’s reflection. 
“Seemed cozy. Close. Almost like Evan and Junior,” Dorcas says. 
You snort a laugh. “God forbid a girl has a male friend. He had a rough summer and you know he trusts me.” 
“He put his arm around you after you held him the entire way here,” Dorcas points out and Pandora nods in agreement. “That’s something.”
“I assure you, it’s not.” 
---
With each passing day, you and Regulus spend every spare second together, as you had in previous years. Only this time, you’re making sure that he is okay and present. It’s  obvious to you every time he disappears into his mind. His eyes gloss over and any expression on his face dissipates into the numb expression he had when his parents dropped him off at Kings Cross. When you see him in passing, he has the look on his face and he’s more rigid than you had ever seen him previously. You know he’s just getting through the day and will relax once he’s back in the common room or library with you. 
When he’s with you, you see his old self coming back, but there are still the effects of the summer without Sirius. He’s more jumpy and paranoid. You catch him glancing over his shoulder, and your shoulder, periodically, like someone is going to walk up and attack them. He flinches when people raise their voices or a room gets too loud. You do your best to tell people to quiet down or find a believable excuse for you and Regulus to leave. It works well enough and Regulus always gives you a grateful smile. 
You’re not sure what possesses to check on Regulus a month or so into the term. You put on your robe before heading down to the common room. A hunched-over form scribbling away at one of the tables tells you that you don’t need to go to the dorms to find Regulus. He’s already up. You walk over to him, ensuring your steps make noise and going to sit across from him.
“What are you working on?” you whisper.
He still jumps at the sound of your voice. 
“Reworking a Charms essay.”
“Didn’t I already proofread that for you? I thought it was done,” you ask, narrowing your eyes at the parchment. 
“Uh, yeah. It was finished. But it can be better. It needs to be better. I don’t want to settle for an E. I want an O. Mother wants an O.” 
He looks back down at his essay and continues to write until you reach over the table to put your hand on his wrist.
“Regulus, you’re supposed to be sleeping. And the essay you already wrote was O material.”
“I won’t be able to sleep until it’s perfect.”
“It is perfect.”
“Then more than perfect. It has to be better.”
“Regulus, look at me.”
He raises his eyes to look into yours. His grey eyes are bloodshot and his face pale. 
“You need to sleep. It’s three in the morning.”
He shakes his head. “I won’t be able to sleep.”
“The essay is-” you start to say.
“It’s not the essay,” he cuts you off and then sighs. “I dream of home when I sleep.”
“Oh.”
There’s silence, except for the occasional crack or pop from the dying fire. Regulus stopped working on his essay. You try to think of a solution.
“What if… I stayed with you until you fell asleep?”
“You should be sleeping too, though.”
“I’ve gotten a few hours already,” you remind him. 
“What if I dream of there again?” You can hear the fear in his voice and it breaks your heart.
“I can stay until morning, if you think your dormmates won’t mind,” you suggest. “I don’t think Junior would mind, but I don’t know about the others.”
At your offer, his eyes start pleading for you to do so.
“Please stay.”
You nod, stand up and hold out your hand to him.
“Come on then. Let’s get you to bed.”
He quickly collects his items from the table and takes your hand. You lead him back to his own dorm. Regulus lights a small light before he gets ready for bed. The curtains of the other beds in the room are pulled closed, giving the boys their own privacy. You sat on the edge of the only empty bed, obviously Regulus’ with all of the House of Black monogrammed items. You didn’t crawl under the covers until Regulus did. You let him get comfortable first before wrapping yourself around him. 
“Just focus on my breathing, yeah?”
“And you won’t leave?”
“I’m not leaving until morning.”
Your presence in Regulus’ dorm becomes more common. He would let you know when he needed you there. Enchanted notes would fly into your dorm and wake you up if he woke up from a particularly horrid dream. You would be there in an instant, helping lull him back to sleep. Dorcas and Pandora said “I told you so” when rumors of you and Regulus dating circled briefly. You shut them down quickly. Whether anyone actually believed you wasn’t the point; it was that no one was talking about it. You did take pride in being scary when you needed to. You knew you had to split your focus between Regulus and lessons, not silly rumors. 
Some days were better than others for Regulus. You knew it wasn’t going to be all sunshine and roses, but it was nice when those days came along. And you made sure to be there when a day just went to shit. Things had been trending upward the further you got into the semester. You had been able to become less attached at the hip with Regulus. He had spent some evenings with Junior and Evan and some others that you didn’t particularly care for. But he was opening up again to his other friends and that was good. 
Then one of his enchanted notes flutters into your Potions class. Luckily, you are working in the back near the door so Slughorn doesn’t notice the parchment fly in and land in front of you. You quickly read over the note and raise your hand. 
“Professor, may I use the loo?”
Slughorn looks a bit shocked at your interruption.
“Yes. Go. Be quick if you can.”
You nod and hurry out of the room. You find Regulus in the alcove he had described. He’s hugging his knees to his chest and visibility shaking. His face is hidden, but you know he’s been crying. You crouch next to him.
“Hey,” you say softly.
He flinches but then lifts his head. You were right; tears were streaming down his face. 
“What happened?” 
“I-I don’t kn-know. There was a n-noise a-a-and something hit me. I c-couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see. I-I just ran.”
You wrap your arms around him. You hold him for a few minutes in silence, except for his ragged breathing and sniffles. You rub circles on his back and arm where your hands rest. 
“Thank you for the note,” you whisper. 
He nods. He doesn’t know why you’re thanking him for it, but who else was he supposed to send for? Sirius? 
After the rest of classes, you decide to skip dinner. While you’re sure that Regulus would’ve benefitted from your presence, you needed to clear your head. You pace around the castle, corridor after corridor, floor after floor. You come across a door you’re unfamiliar with and you peer inside the room. Your face lights up at the piles of old broken crates. The room looked abandoned and you’re fairly certain you’ve never come across this room before. You crack your neck and launch spells at the crates, making them explode and catch fire. There must be some sort of enchantment on the room because the piles of crates never end. You are able to go through what must’ve been hundreds of crates until you are tired. Your system feels momentarily cleared. 
---
Regulus sending for you during class set something off in you. While you had been mad at Sirius for leaving Regulus alone, now you are furious. You know part of your anger is fueled by what Sirius did to you, just casually ending a years-old friendship and never truly acknowledging you again. You waited for the right time, rage boiling inside of you. You hid it from Regulus and the girls, but it was there. You knew it was there. 
When the moment presented itself, you approached Sirius and his friends. They had claimed a shady area by the Black Lake and were lounging around. It was secluded enough that you felt no shame in the scene you knew you were about to throw. You had decided that Sirius’ decision that you weren’t to acknowledge each other was done. 
“What do you want?” Peter asks with a sharp tone. He is the first one to notice you.
At his question, the rest of the boys look up to see who was walking up to them. You notice a brief look of warning cross Sirius’ face. 
“You left him alone,” you say, trying to be firm and steady but it comes out accusingly. You’re only looking at Sirius. You don’t care for the rest of them right now. 
Sirius blinks at you. His expression is unreadable, not giving you anything to go off of.
“You two know each other?” Remus asks, sensing the tension you’re giving off. 
“How could you leave him alone? In that house with them?”
“Padfoot, what’s she on about?” Peter asks. He’s giving you a wary look. 
You know Sirius understands exactly what you’re getting at. 
“This isn’t the place,” he says coolly. 
“You left him behind and went to hide at the Potters,” you continue. You look at James briefly. “Full offense by the way.”
“Oi, what?” James gasps. 
“Padfoot, is she talking about-?” Remus starts to ask.
“Regulus? Yeah, I am.” You shoot Remus a soft smile before turning back to Sirius with the anger bubbling up within you. “After everything, I know they were horrible to you, but how could you leave him there alone? Did you see him when they dropped him off?” A dry laugh escapes your lips and your voice rises. “Wait, of course not! You weren’t there for him. I know you stood between them and him for years but suddenly disappearing? That’s so fucking cowardly, you dipshit. He wasn’t prepared. He wasn’t ready.”
“Regulus is an open book, isn’t he?” Peter mumbles. “Airing the Blacks’ dirty laundry?”
You turn to Peter with a much more harsh look on your face. “I forgot that you all don’t know.” You don’t need to see Sirius’ face to know he’s giving you his own furious look of warning. One that says ‘Don’t you dare.’ “Sirius and I go way back. At least we did until he became the family disgrace and I wasn’t in the same house.”
“Sod. Off,” Sirius says. All calmness that had been in his voice previously was gone. “This isn’t about you.”
“It’s fucking about me when I’m the one putting him back together. When I was the one who found him. When I was the one who offered him somewhere safe. All because you left him.” 
“He’s their golden boy. How bad could it be?” Peter asks, leaning back on his elbows as he stretches out.
“Wormtail, you stay out of it,” Sirius warns. 
“You called him that.”
“Black, you could learn a thing or two about loyalty. You got a wicked case of abandoning people who care for you. Boys,” you cast a glance around the group, “just know it’s only a matter of time before he leaves you for dead because something better for him came up. Consider yourself warned.”
The boys watch as you stalk off toward the castle. You leave a thick silence in your wake. Once you are a safe distance away, the boys turn their glances to Sirius, who is fuming. 
“So Sirius?” Remus asks, his words cutting through the silence. 
He didn’t say anything, still staring in the direction you had gone.
“Padfoot,” James tries, “care to explain what that was? Or even, who?”
When Sirius still doesn’t say anything, Remus answers part of James’ question. “Y/N. She’s one of Regulus’ friends, I think. I see them around each other a lot. Slytherin, obviously.” 
“Okay, but she said she goes ‘way back’ with Pads, not Regulus,” Peter points out.
“Yeah, because we do and they don’t,” Sirius finally speaks up. “We live… lived near each other. Met at a park when we were small. When being at home was too much.”
The others wait for him to say more. He doesn’t, at least not willingly. 
“And?” Remus pries. “What was all of that?” He gestures to the space where you had berated him. 
“Suppose the result of mixing my moving in with James and her friendship with my brother.”
“Okay, and the bit of about loyalty?” James asks. “Like, what was that?” He lets out an awkward laugh. 
“I may or may not have told her we weren’t friends like a week into first year,” Sirius mumbles, not meeting any of their eyes. 
The boys exchange confused looks with each other, not fully understanding.
“Why?” James follows up. 
“I… don’t know. Some mix of betrayal of not knowing she was going to be here and her being a Slytherin, I guess. It felt like a connection to my family that I was able to separate myself from by being a Gryffindor, you know?”
Remus shakes his head. “But, mate, if you were friends before Hogwarts-”
Sirius cuts him off. “Try my closest confidant.”
“That’s even worse,” Remus continues. “I’d imagine she was pretty pissed when you left her. Coming here and you see a familiar face that tells you to fuck off?”
“I mean, I was pleasant to her. We just aren’t friends anymore! And we didn’t see each other at home anymore either.”
“I’m willing to bet that’s your doing though,” Peter says. 
Sirius sighs and nods. 
“Padfoot, Padfoot, Padfoot…” Remus breathes. 
“Should you be concerned about Regulus though?” Peter asks, his voice small as he knows talking about his family isn’t Sirius’ favorite thing. “She seemed pretty stressed ‘bout it.”
“Mildly,” Sirius says shortly. “He’s stronger than she knows.” 
Remus gives Sirius an unsure look. Remus has seen how often you hang around Regulus and assumes you two were probably as close as the Marauders were. Only differences being you didn’t share a dorm and were in different years. Sirius didn’t see Remus’ look. He didn’t want to feel the judgment of his friends right now. Not when he had been yelled at by his oldest friends, one who knew of his home life better than the Marauders did. You had been there when he was subjected to his parents’ moods and opinions year round as compared to only having to survive a few months with them. 
Sirius didn’t sleep well that night. He kept tossing and turning but ultimately failed at becoming comfortable and falling asleep. He tried to just rest with his eyes closed. It didn’t help that his mind was endlessly spinning and replaying your words, your concern for Regulus and fury at him for leaving Regulus behind, rather than being happy for him finally escaping his tormentors. 
The next day, he makes a point to find you after class. Being exhausted in class wasn’t conducive to paying attention, nor was still having you on his mind. His friends could tell he wasn’t in it; they mostly left him alone and tried to keep the professor’s attention off of him. Remus had made comments to James and Peter about thinking your intrusion had affected Sirius more than he would admit to them. Afterall, Sirius liked to keep his personal emotions close to his chest. 
He finds you in the library with Pandora and Dorcas. He looks around nervously for Regulus, or Barty and Evan. He was more nervous about Regulus, but seeing Barty and  Evan wasn’t my favorite scenario either. Luckily for him, it was just the girls. Dorcas and Pandora noticed him right away as he started to approach the table. You had continued working, not looking up. 
“Uh, hey, Y/N,” he says awkwardly. 
Dorcas and Pandora give him annoyed glares. You look up slowly.
“What, Black?” you all but spit at him. Had he not gotten enough of an earful yesterday?
“Can, uh, can we talk?”
Pandora cocks her head to the side as Dorcas glances quickly from Sirius to you and back. You blink at Sirius, as if bored. The girls next to you have never seen Sirius so unsure of himself, except maybe when he was walking up to be sorted, when the possibility of being a Slytherin still hung in the air. 
“I guess,” you say with a sigh. “I’ll be back shortly,” you assure the girls as you follow Sirius into the depth of the shelves. 
“How bad is he?” Sirius asks once you’re out of earshot of the girls. 
You scoff. “Oh, so now you care.”
“I always cared. It’s just not something I talk about with the guys. He’s my brother.”
“He was wrecked when you left. Rightfully so, if you ask me. And he was ruined when he came back to school. You left him alone with them.” You were trying to keep your voice steady and low, not wanting to start a shouting match with him in the library. 
Sirius sighs and runs a hand through his hair. 
“Is that all you needed?” you ask. “Pretty sure I told you that yesterday.”
“How is he… now?”
You bite the inside of your cheek before answering. “He’s not the same, if that’s what you’re asking. Barely okay some days. It’s hit and miss, but overall, better the longer he isn’t there, I think. I’m worried about when he inevitably goes back. Christmas? Summer? All of our work this semester is going to go down the drain.”
“Our work?”
You roll your eyes. “Me, Dory, Dorcas, Evan, Junior. You know, the people that care about him.”
“I care about him.”
“The people that care about him enough to be around.”
“Being in that house was killing me. You know that. I had to get out.”
“It never would’ve killed you, Sirius. Drive you mad, yes. But not kill. Even on the worst days, you were never as bad as he is.”
“It’s not my fault he doesn’t have the common sense to get out.”
“He feels like he has to stay. I offered-”
“I know. You said yesterday. So he didn’t take you up on it and you still feel the responsibility to fix him?”
“It’s not a responsibility. It’s because he’s important to me. That’s why I helped fix you. You were important to me.”
Were echoes in his brain. Sirius shakes his head in slight disbelief.
“Still. He turned you away and you’re doing more than he’s asking of you. Why?”
You blink at him slowly and take a deep breath. What you wouldn’t give for it to be appropriate to smack him upside the head, but you needed to keep your composure.
“He came back to me. He’s opened up to me. He didn’t lock me out forever. Like you did.”
You feel like you need to scream.
“Excuse me.”
You turn and leave Sirius alone in the shelves. Pandora and Dorcas give you concerned looks as you take your seat again. They only look away from you when Sirius emerges from the shelves where you had left him. Their eyes follow him all the way out of the library before looking back at you and then refocusing on their own homework. You know they want to ask you what Sirius wanted but your demeanor says you aren’t talking about it now, and maybe never. 
---
“What did you yell at my brother about?” Regulus asks you as you sit down next to him at dinner. 
“Hm?” 
“People are saying you yelled at Sirius and his friends yesterday. I think you scared a first year.”
“Reminded him that he’s a piece of shit.”
“What did he do this time?” 
You give Regulus an intrigued look. “Why are you so interested?”
“My best friend chewing my own flesh and blood a new one? You’re kidding, right?”
“He came and talked to her in the library earlier,” Pandora adds, leaning forward.
Regulus turns fully toward you. 
“First you yell at him and now he’s coming to talk to you? Darling?”
“Toldhimoffforleavingyou.” You have never spoken more quickly and quietly in your life. 
“You did what?” Regulus gasps. Of course he understood you. 
“He shouldn’t’ve and you know it,” you say, pointing your fork at Regulus before going to stab another piece of food. “Someone had to let him know and you obviously weren’t going to do it.”
“Because it was his choice.” 
“Exactly. He chose to leave. He didn’t have to. He should’ve known better.”
“So you told him off. For me.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t have to…” You see Regulus’ gaze drift over to where Sirius was sitting at the Gryffindor table and he frowns. “Maybe you shouldn’t have.”
You bite the inside of your bottom lip. It was easy to hide behind Regulus being your best friend as the sole reason, but yelling at Sirius had been cathartic. You finally got some sense of revenge for him abandoning you in first year. It felt so good to get that off your chest, at least in front of Sirius’ friends. 
“It wasn’t just for you,” you mumble, half hoping that Regulus didn’t hear you.
“Then for who else?” Pandora asks.
Regulus turns back to you. He waits for your answer.
“For me.”
“For you?” Regulus repeats.
“I, uh, I was his friend before I was yours.”
Dorcas snorts from next to Pandora. “Bitch, when? You could barely look at him in first year and then Regulus was here.”
“Before Hogwarts. We live near each other.”
“He never mentioned a friend,” Regulus says softly.
“Okay, but then what happened? You’ve talked more in the past twenty four hours than the past six years,” Dorcas says.
“He said we weren’t friends anymore and yeah, that was that.”
Your friends all stare at you, each with a different expression on their face. 
“Excuse me, what?” Dorcas asks. 
You shrug. There wasn’t anything more to say; you could’ve mentioned that Sirius told you all about life at home, but you felt that was implied enough for Regulus. 
“And you never talk?” Pandora adds.
“Huh,” is all Regulus says. 
“So yelling at him was a little for me too. But the purpose was for you, Reg. He knows he shouldn’t’ve left.”
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Regulus asks.
“I didn’t think it really mattered. The Sirius I was friends with wasn’t Sirius Black. He was just Sirius and I was just Y/N. We weren’t wizards. We were just kids at a park. And then everything changed and the past was the past.”
“Kids at a park…” Regulus mutters, putting two and two together. “The one you said you visit often?”
You nod. 
“I suppose… that makes sense…” He’s speaking slowly as he is still processing the fact that you knew Sirius and were friends before he had even met you. “And he was the one who left you?”
You nod again. He hums and puts his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.
“That’s his loss and my gain, I guess.”
You sigh in relief. Some part of you had thought Regulus would be furious that you hadn’t disclosed your previous friendship with his brother. Although, in your defense, like you had said, the Sirius you knew wasn’t Regulus’ brother. That Sirius had been an only child and a muggle. And if you could have had your way six years ago, you would’ve had both Black brothers as your friends. 
---
Once again, what you had said kept Sirius up at night. 
Were. Were. Were.
You were important to me.
He knew he was the reason he no longer was important to you. He had been the one to push you away. He had never found himself regretting it until now. As he goes through the next day’s classes, he wonders how he managed six years of ignoring you. You’re in almost every class he has. Your voice and laughter draw his attention. He never realized how much he missed hearing both, and even more so, being the cause of the laugh. 
The rest of the Marauders aren’t oblivious to Sirius watching you, but they don’t say anything to him. They don’t understand how close the two of you had been before he ruined it. And they don’t understand that your yelling had really got in his head. That you coming to him, instead of listening to his command, forced him to realize how much he missed you and your friendship. He missed you and needed to fix it. He saw that he made a dire mistake pushing you away. 
It takes him time to wrap his head around everything. After a week of trying to dissect your words in his head on his own, he swallows his pride and asks for help.
“What does it mean if someone says you were important to them?” Sirius asks, laying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. 
“You need a grammar lesson? Okay.” Remus says. “Were. Used to be. Past tense. No longer important.”
“Is it a lost cause though?”
“Is what a lost cause?”
“Can you re-become important to someone?”
“I suppose it depends on what happened to make you unimportant to them.” Remus pauses, looking over Sirius. “Is this about Y/N?” 
Sirius nods. He knows that Remus would be looking at him to see it.
“‘Fraid I don’t know enough about that to really say, Pads. She sounded beyond pissed at you.”
“How do I get her to see that I had to leave and taking Regulus with me wasn’t really an option?”
“You think James’ parents wouldn’t have taken him in too?”
“No, they would have. I don’t think Reg would have come with. Certainly not easily.”
“Did you ask him?”
“No. What if he told Mum what I was going to do? I was able to get out because I had surprise on my side.”
Remus thinks for a moment before responding. “When did y/n say that?”
“Last week, after she yelled at me. I went back to ask about Reg.”
Remus doesn’t say anything. Once again, he needs more information. 
“She said Regulus is important to her. And I was.”
“And you want to change that?”
“The part about me, yes. I don’t mind that she cares for Reg. It’s… good he has someone. That he has her, of all people.”
Remus shakes his head and tries to stifle a laugh. Sirius looks over at him when he hears. 
“What?”
“Padfoot, it’s really quite simple. I think you need to talk to her. Apologize for being an idiot. Maybe a bit of groveling. See if she has ideas on how you can help Regulus,” he says. “Girls like it when guys admit they were wrong. And you were wrong. Very. Extremely.”
“Shut up, Moony. I know. I know I was wrong.” He takes a breath. “And it’s hit me how much I miss her. I don’t know how I managed six years without her.”
“Tell her that. While you’re groveling on your knees. Begging.”
“Don’t make it sound so pathetic.”
“Can I come with to watch? I think it is going to be pathetic and that’s something I need to witness.”
“So you can tell everyone?”
“So I can tell everyone.”
---
Sirius corners you in the library. Well, not quite corners you. He finds you at a table alone. He sits next to you and turns your chair so you’re facing him.
“I was working,” you hiss at him. 
“I need to talk to you.”
“Again?”
“Yes, again.”
“You only have a few minutes. Regulus is meeting me here after Quidditch practice. You need to be gone when he gets here.”
“Actually, I need to talk to him too. But you’re first.”
You narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms. You wait for him to talk. 
“Okay. This is long overdue. I’m sorry.”
You scoff. “Sorry for what?”
“I wasn’t finished,” he says. “I’m sorry for pushing you away when we were first years. And for never talking to you. Never going back to the park. I was selfish and stupid. I still am stupid. The biggest idiot you’ve ever met.”
“I could’ve told you that, Black.”
He briefly purses his lips together at his last name.
“Continuing my idiocy, this is going to sound even more stupid. I didn’t realize how much I actually missed you until you yelled at me. I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. I don’t know how I survived the last six years without you. I need you in my life.”
You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “You missed me? Bit too late to be confessing that, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I know it is. That’s how stupid I am! Six years and being called a dipshit to get my head out of my arse.”
Your glare softens ever so slightly.
“So I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry.”
“Okay.” 
“Can I try to explain something? Do I have time?”
You sigh and lean backwards to see the clock. 
“You have time.”
He smiles before his expression becomes serious again.
“I thought the only way to escape them was to leave on my own. To disappear out of the blue. If they had an inkling that I would actually leave, they might’ve stopped me. That’s why I didn’t say anything to Regulus. I wasn’t sure he’d want to come with, especially to the Potters’. I know I need to talk to Regulus on my own. But I want to try to fix it. I need to work on fixing my relationships with the Slytherins I never should’ve let leave my life.”
“I don’t think he would’ve said anything. Probably wouldn’t’ve gone with you, but he wouldn’t’ve been so goddamn blindsided.” You pause. “I don’t know if you can fix these relationships.”
“I need to try. Please. Let me try.” He got out of his chair and on his knees, as Remus suggested. “Please, Y/N. You were my first friend. The best friend I’ve ever had and I ruined it. Please, let me try to fix it.”
You’re looking down at him with wide eyes as Regulus approaches the table.
“What the actual fuck?” he asks. 
Sirius immediately stands up, turning towards his brother.
“Regulus.”
“Sirius.”
“I’m sorry.”
Regulus put his bag down on the table, not breaking eye contact with his brother. 
“Are you now?”
“I should have told you.”
“You should have stayed.”
“I couldn’t.”
Regulus sits down and looks away from his brother and at you. 
“Regulus, I had to leave. I think for the same reasons you feel you need to stay. I know I was the one who left, but I don’t want to lose my brother.”
“You have James.”
“He’s not blood.” You knew it was hard for Sirius to say that. “You always have a place at the Potters’ if you want to leave. It’s okay to leave.”
“My invitation still stands too,” you say, speaking for the first time since Regulus joined you. 
Regulus looks back at his brother and then to you again. He shakes his head.
“What is this?”
“I, uh, I am trying to start mending the bridges I burned with my idiocy,” Sirius says as he slowly sinks back into his chair. He looks at you. “Does he know about us?”
“About what?” Regulus spits. 
“We were friends before Hogwarts. When I would disappear, I was usually with Y/N,” Sirius clarifies and Regulus’ face relaxes.
“Oh, that. Yes, I’m aware.”
You laugh, earning a sharp look from the librarian.
“Reg! Do you really think I’d be dating him without telling you?”
You were important. Sirius feels his face grow hot. 
“Anyways!” Sirius says. “I want a second chance, even though I probably don’t deserve one from either of you.”
You look at Regulus, trying to read his expression. Sirius’ apology to you certainly felt more heartfelt than his to his own brother. Maybe there was a dynamic you weren’t familiar with between them, but you wanted Regulus to answer first. Your loyalty would be to him first. His face is stoney as he looks his brother up and down.
“Will you be better?” Regulus asks after a few seconds.
“I’m going to try. Whatever you need of me, except moving back in.”
“Of course there’s a caveat,” you sigh.
“No, no,” Regulus says, giving you a soft smile. “I wouldn’t ask you to move back in. But write? Keep me in the loop? Don’t prank me?”
“What about a friendly prank? Like something I would do to James, Peter, them.”
“Maybe.”
“And I will write. Daily, if you want. And even if you don’t stay, you’re welcome to visit the Potters’ or we can spend a day in the city or whatever.”
There is so much desperation in Sirius’ voice as he talks to Regulus that you almost feel bad for him. His apology could have used work, but he seems genuinely wanting to reconnect with Regulus outside of their parents’ grasp. 
“And for you?” Sirius asks, turning his attention to you once Regulus seemed satisfied with him.
“What?”
“What will it take for a second chance?”
You look at Regulus, only to find him actively watching you. You can’t tell if he’s encouraging you to give him one or if he’s curious at what you’d require from him. You look back at Sirius with a grim face.
“I don’t know. I was never friends with Sirius Black.”
Sirius gives you a confused and hurt look. “But the park…”
“I was friends with a young boy named Sirius. He didn’t have a last name. He didn’t have a brother at home.” You sigh before continuing. “I suppose if Sirius Black wants to try to be friends, he can try and we’ll go from there.”
“Thank you. Thank you both. I promise I won’t blow it.” A wide smile is adorning his face as he stands up. “I’ll let you two study, but thank you.”
You both watch Sirius leave the library in silence. 
“You think you’ll be able to forgive him?” Regulus asks you as he opens his bag and takes out his homework. 
“We’ll see. That first year was hard. Guess we’ll see how much effort he really puts in. You?”
“If he keeps his word. We can be pleasant then, I think.”
You smile across the table at the younger boy. “You’re kinder to him than I am.”
“Family, you know.”
You roll your eyes. “You damn well know you don’t have to love family.”
“Then I’m choosing to. He’s Sirius. Something about him is loveable.”
You didn’t want to admit it, but you knew he was right.
---
It’s the little things. Sirius started making a point to say hi to you, and to Regulus. Pranks seemed to avoid you. He would approach you in the corridors and the library to chat. You could tell Sirius watched and cheered Regulus on the Quidditch pitch, when Slytherin wasn’t playing Gryffindor. He was taking the baby steps he needed to. 
As much as you tried to hang onto your anger, you couldn’t. It didn’t wash away in one go, but it melted like an ice sculpture without a permafrost enchantment. It probably helped that over Christmas Regulus received the letters he was promised. Both Regulus and Sirius wrote to you, which the latter was more unexpected. They both told you about an adventure into the city that went well, only a few minor tense moments that passed almost as quickly as they appeared. You spent time with Regulus at the park, apparently at Sirius’ suggestion. So when the spring term was starting up and Regulus wasn’t a shell of himself as he had been at the start of the fall term, you really noticed how much effort Sirius had been putting in. He was really trying to not mess up his second chances. 
Sirius finds you sitting in a window seat, reading a book you had gotten for Christmas. He leans against the wall and watches you for a moment. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing you so focused and lost in the pages. 
“Hey,” he says finally,
You look up. The shock of seeing him evident on your face, but you mark your spot and put the book down. 
“Hi.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah. What’s up, Sirius?”
You cross your legs so Sirius can sit at the other end of the window seat. 
“If I had invited you to the Potters for a day over break, would you have come?”
You’re taken back by the question. It was unexpected and it felt loaded. 
“I just… I almost invited you. I need to know if I should be kicking myself for chickening out,” he adds when you don’t respond. 
“Honestly, probably not. I don’t know your friends, especially not the Potters. I don’t think James is too fond of me.”
“He’s come around a bit,” Sirius says. You can tell he’s trying to not look too hurt at your denial. “And how will they learn to love you if you don’t come around?”
“Love? Let’s work on simple friends, or acquaintances at school first.”
“Then Hogsmeade? Next weekend? Would you consider coming with us?”
You hesitate. A full day with Sirius and his friends is daunting. You were just beginning to be friends with Sirius. Jumping into his friend group felt like too much. Again, Sirius talks more when you don’t say anything.
“What if it was just me?”
“I’d consider just you.”
“Then I’ll tell the boys I won’t be going with them!” Sirius exclaims happily, jumping up from the seat.
“I said consider!” you call after him, but he’s sprinting down the corridor. 
You did consider it. You thought about it during class and meals. You even talked about it with Regulus, who supported your reformed friendship with Sirius. He said something about the day in London with Sirius was more fun than he’d admit to Sirius so if he has a London day with him, you need a Hogsmeade day. And then you considered it and thought about it more. 
You kept doing so until you hadn’t said no and were waiting for Sirius by the ground gates to walk to Hogsmeade. It was cold and snowing and Sirius was a little late. You pull your cloak tighter around your body. You can’t help but smile when you catch a glimpse of Sirius running toward you while attempting to tie his scarf.
“I’m late, I know! Please don’t hold it against me!”
You laugh at him as he huffs.
“Oh, just let me,” you say, grabbing his scarf that wasn’t remotely tied in a way to keep him warm. 
You tie it for him and tuck the ends into his cloak so they won’t fly in the wind. 
“There. Now let’s go! I’m thinking you owe me a butterbeer for making me wait.”
“If that’s the cost of being late, I can handle that. As much butterbeer as you want.”
Your day with Sirius goes smoothly. Conversations don’t run dry. The camaraderie is just like when you were younger. It’s fun and relaxing. After the Three Broomsticks, he follows you around a bookstore and then you follow him around Zonkos. You end up back in the pub for more butterbeer to warm you up before your walk back to Hogwarts. 
“Did your friends even come to Hogsmeade today? I’m surprised we didn’t run into them,” you say, pulling on your coat. 
“No. Said something about giving us privacy?”
“Do we need privacy?”
“I mean, I did explain that you weren’t ready to be thrown into a day with the Marauders?” 
“Which is true. You have to admit, your group can be a bit much.”
Sirius laughs and holds open the pub door for you as you exit into the cold.
“We can be. I think Zonkos both cringes and celebrates when all four of us walk in. They make sales, but at what cost?”
“That’s the bookstore when I go in with Reg!” you say with a laugh. 
“You know his book collection well?”
You nod. “We’re our own little book club, the two of us. And possibly edging on a library. If you ever take up reading, we got you.”
You lightly run into Sirius with your shoulder. 
“Maybe I’ll have to. Sure would make Remus’ day to see a book in my hands.”
“If you need recommendations, you know where to find me and Regulus.”
You walk for a little bit without talking. Snow is still falling, flakes getting caught in your hair and on your eyelashes. You’re too busy watching where you’re walking to see Sirius sending sideways glances your way every few steps. You’re about halfway back to the castle when he puts his arm out in front of you to stop you.
“Why we stopping?” you ask, a shiver running up your spine as a gust of wind chills you. 
“I’m going to risk my second chance with you.”
It happens before you can process anything. Sirius grabs your face and pulls it closer to his. He presses his lips to yours. He couldn’t help himself. In rekindling your friendship, he realized that something else was caught on fire inside of him. With each letter he sent you, he could only anticipate your response. He had hoped you wouldn’t want to go to Hogsmeade with all of his friends but would accept going with just him. He had been so nervous this morning that it made him late, but you had laughed and fixed his scarf. And then you just looked so beautiful with the white snowflakes in your hair. He couldn’t help himself. 
His eyes search yours for a reaction when he pulls away. You don’t seem angry or upset. 
“Darling?” he asks softly.
“How long?” you ask.
“A few seconds, maybe?”
“Not the kiss. How long have you liked me?”
“Oh. Sometime after you said you’d give Sirius Black a chance. But I think it would’ve been longer if I had never pushed you away.”
You nod, suddenly unable to form words. Your thoughts are running a hundred miles an hour. Sirius had been one of your first and best friends. Today had been a testament to how easy it was to fall back into the friendship with him. It wasn’t like you had ever truly stopped caring for him, nor that you have never imagined what might’ve happened between you if he had stayed. For Regulus’ sake, you always kept your thoughts about Sirius to yourself. You didn’t dare mention anything to Dorcas or Pandora in case someone overheard or they didn’t keep their mouths shut. Now, here you are, with Sirius in front of you, searching for a proper response after he kissed you. A Sirius who begged for forgiveness after being an idiot for six years. A Sirius who said he was going to risk his second chance.
You lean up and give him a quick peck on the lips. He stares at you. 
“We’re lucky I gave you that second chance,” you say with a smile.
“We?” he breathes, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours.
“We.” 
Sirius kisses you again and is smiling so widely that you think his jaw must hurt.
“I guess I need to tell Reg,” you sigh as you reach to hold Sirius’ hand. 
569 notes · View notes
rememberwren · 3 months ago
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I’ve thought of surrogate!reader with Ghoap but lately I’ve been obsessed with the thought of established Ghost/fem!reader with sperm donor!Johnny and it’s a whole new dynamic okay
Another month, another bunch of negative pregnancy tests. I can see you crying in the bathroom when Simon admits that he went and had himself tested even though you both promised not to, and he knows that he’s the one at fault. Sperm ain’t sperming. You’re not the broken one, he is.
Of course you don’t see it that way. But you finally decide to put away dreams of carrying a child of your own and instead start thinking of adoption.
All the people in your life are having children now—Gaz’s second daughter’s first birthday arrives and you’re surrounded by people politely (and not so politely) wondering when it will be your turn to have a baby. “Always asking you, but never asking me,” Ghost says dryly to make you feel better, hand on his stomach. “Maybe I want to carry the baby.”
Even Price has a child on the way—and Kate and her wife don’t want to adopt but they regularly foster. Everybody has kids in their lives.
Everybody except Johnny.
On the way home from the party Ghost brings it up—Johnny was real good playing with the kids. He’s a nice kind of guy. Good genes. Would you like to have his baby, you think? And what? It breaks your brain a little bit. But you can’t stop thinking about it. So one day Ghost has him over and the two guys go out into the yard and talk, and they’re out there for forever it feels like as you wash the same dish over and over again, watching them through the window above the sink, but then they come back and Johnny has agreed. It’s a yes. Anything for you and for his lieutenant. Ghost has saved his life enough times over in the past years; this is just one way that Johnny can pay him back.
At first you all keep it strictly above board. Johnny jerks off in the bathroom into a cup, hands off the specimen and disappears into your living room to let you and Ghost handle the insemination. Cheers.
Ghost doesn’t mean to make it sexy, gently spooning Johnny’s seed inside you—there’s just something taboo and dirty about it that sets you off. Ghost touches you so soft and gently, spreading your folds, playing with your clit, feeding the sperm into your hungry little cunt. And he makes you cum at the end because that wive’s tale is always at the back of his mind, that cumming helps with conception.
And it doesn’t work. The next month you’re devastated—and perhaps just as devastated as you is Johnny. It’s touching, almost endearing the way he takes it to heart so much, feeling like this failure was his own.
Ghost is the one who suggests that the three of you hadn’t done it right. It hadn’t been by the book. Sperm can’t live long outside the human body. The solution is simple: you and Johnny should have sex. You start stammering disapproval of the idea and have listed a whole host of reasons why it’s inappropriate when you notice Johnny’s silence. He’d do that for you. Wouldn’t be a hardship either; you’re a beautiful woman, he’s always thought so. Which is how you end up with your legs wrapped around Johnny’s waist while Ghost sits beside you in bed, reminding Johnny to make you cum. Because it helps.
And the next month, Simon and Johnny are both pacing holes in the floor outside the bathroom while you take your tests. When the door finally opens, you don’t need to say a word. The expression on your face says everything. It worked. You’re pregnant.
That should have been the last and only time Johnny fucked you with Ghost.
But it isn’t.
1K notes · View notes
princesssmars · 6 months ago
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making abby squirt with the nails she just paid for…nsfw.
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you had seen the cutest nail set one of your friends got on her instant story, and after complimenting her and getting the techs account you couldn’t stop your eyes from widening a little at the prices.
but you only get time to pout about it for a few minutes before abby is prodding you about what’s wrong, scoffing at your complaint about the expensive service and telling you that she’ll ’handle it’.
you almost thought she was kidding until she urged you to book the appointment, even driving you to the location and putting the cash in your hand with a kiss.
so what better way to admire your new nails and repay the favor to abby then to make her go crazy with pleasure beneath you?
well, technically in front of you, trapped between your legs as the both of you face your floor length mirror. convincing her to not only completely bottom for a night but to also use a mirror was a challenge, but with some pleading and batted eyelashes she gave in.
it’s funny to think about, how she tried to be so tough and act like she she didn’t want to be on the bottom like she wasn’t currently moaning and twitching like her life depended on it. you bring up a hand that was grasping her large thigh up to her breast, lightly pinching her left nipple and giggling at the broken sob that leaves her lips.
“please, please, ‘s too much.” her begging is raspy, throat strained by the constant use of her voice. her hands are tied up behind her back and you can feel her trying to free them by the jabbing of her shoulders into yours.
“aww, poor baby.” you coo, pressing sweet kisses to the side of her cheek and neck, heart warming when she pushes her head back onto your shoulder for more affection.
“you’ve only had three, and you always give me at least five. what’s wrong, can dish it but can’t take it?”
she lets out a groan as you simultaneously bite her neck while moving your right hand back down to her pussy, not bothering with teasing her further and instantly going to rub over her clit until she’s the one biting into your neck, hips jerking and mumbling words you can’t make out other than that she’s so close, she’s so god damn close-
you have to bite your lip to keep from squealing as a steady stream of liquid ejects from her, squirting onto the sheets, the floor, even the fucking mirror, giving you the perfect view of the sight of her cumming with your hand still rubbing between her legs, too weak to close her legs to stop you.
all too soon her body calms down, sweaty heap of muscles resting into your chest as her chest rises and falls while she tries to catch her breath. her eyes are closed while she tries to bring herself back, only opening when she hears the telltale sign of you sucking your fingers, hoping it doesn’t show on her face that the heat is already growing again between her thighs.
“can i pay for your nails every time if you do this?”
“of course you can, baby.”
“great. really great. geez, what’ll happen if i pay for your hair appointment next?”
“i’m getting you pregnant, is what.”
“wait, what?”
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sorry i thought the ending was funny. idk why i’m writing so much bottom abby am i giving fake pillow princess. ok bye.
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rogueddie · 1 year ago
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It takes Steve an embarassingly long moment to realise that the spray isn't doing anything. He tries shaking it… nothing. He even checks by spraying it on his hand, shaking it again. Nothing.
He tries listening as he shakes it again and, though he's sure there's some product still left inside, nothing will come out.
He reluctantly throws it in the little trash can, just next to the toilet door. He doesn't bother rooting through the draws or cabinets either; he'd used the last of his emergency powder kit yesterday. There's nothing left.
He huffs, folding his arms, glaring at his reflection. Specifically at the very overgrown, bright blond roots of his hair.
It brings up the same anxiety he's been having for the past month. It's taken him a long time to save up for his usual hairdressers. He hadn't thought it would take so long but, with the kids and now Robin and Eddie, it shouldn't be that surprising.
Robin often pays a good chunk for things too, often paying him gas money, but it's usually him paying for everything. And now that he's paying rent in his own little appartment? He's not often left with that much at the end of the month.
He's starting to think it's not worth the trip. But he isn't going to start using box dye or anything cheap. He's spent a long time taking care of his hair, spent just as long struggling to find the right products too.
He doesn't even care that the kids and Robin mock him for it, he has great hair and, screw it, he's proud. He's not going to damage it by getting bad hair dye.
He's already booked his next hairdresser appointment for the next day, already saved up gas money too. He might as well ask for bleach instead, go back to his natural color and save himself from anymore days with overgrown roots.
He almost regrets the idea when he gets to work.
"Holy shit, you're a natural blond?" Robins grin looks almost painful with how wide it is. She's a little too excited for his comfort. "I don't know how I didn't guess before. This explains so much. How have you kept this hidden for so long? It's so light!"
"Don't you have work to do?" He bats her hand away when she, again, reaches for his hair.
"Not anymore. Why do you dye it? How did it grow out so much? When did you start hiding it? Did someone pressure you into it? They didn't make fun of you, did they? Because I will hunt them down and-"
"No one made me dye it or bullied me into it," he huffs. He can feel his attempt at a cool demeaner soften with how quickly she jumps to his defense. "I just... I never liked it. I don't think it suits me. Brunettes are cute."
"Are you dyeing it again?"
"Probably not. The hairdresser I go to isn't exactly cheap."
"You can get box dye at-"
"I'm not using box dye."
"It's not that bad, and if you really hate the blond-"
Steve swats at her when she reaches for his hair again. With a heavy sigh, he braces himself for the shift full of questions and jokes of 'betrayal'.
Like he suspected, they don't get much work done.
When Eddie comes in, towards the end of their shift, Steve is almost relieved.
"Stop bullying him without me," Eddie complains.
"Thank you," Steve says, whilst Robin boos. "What is it tonight? Movie night with Wayne or some of the kids?"
But Eddie is frozen, staring at his hair.
"I think he's broken," Robin says after a pause.
"You're blond?" Eddie blinks. "When did you go blond?"
"Always have been," Steve shrugs. "Just... not dyeing it anymore."
"Oh."
Steve and Robin stare at him. They share a glance after a moment.
"You here for a movie?" Steve asks.
"What? Me? No, I- just stopping by. And you're... yeah. I'm gonna- I've got to go. Wayne is waiting and... you know. Bye."
He turns around and practically runs out the store. His wheels squeal a little as he drives out, most likely breaking the speed limit.
"Did he just..." Robin starts, trailing off with a frown.
"Unbelievable," Steve shakes his head. "Just when I give up, he realizes that he likes me too! What the hell, Bob. Is he only into blonds or something?"
2K notes · View notes
katiascraft · 1 month ago
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✐ᝰ "You knew all too well i was right where you left me" | CL16 ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊
parings: retired!charles leclerc x writer!ex!reader
🔎 chapter one: "love is short but forgetting is so long"
chapter two: “did the love affair maim you too?” -> chapter three
summary: It’s the story of a woman frozen in the moment her world fell apart. A perfect dinner ended with, “I met someone else,” and while everyone moved on, she remained stuck in that instant, unable to let go of the past. A poignant tale of heartbreak, grief, and the weight of being trapped in a “forever” that never was.
word count: +4,5k.
BLOG MASTERLIST - series masterlist
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It's been a few crazy days for you. After what happened last time, it took you a few days to go back to the last flower cafe to write. You preferred writing in your studio at home. You had a comfy balcony with a lovely view of the Monaco sea. So you just took inspiration from it to write another chapter of your book. 
Seeing Charles confused you. You didn't know what to think or how to feel about it. You got scared you would see him again. But at the same time, you wanted to see him again. 
It felt confusing because you knew it wasn't right for you or the best to see him again, or wanting to or whatever. But even if he broke your psyche the way he did, you couldn't stop thinking about the what ifs. 
What if this time works? What if he was immature but he is worth it? What if this time is better? What if he feels the same way you do? What if he says he’s sorry? What if you forgive him?
All of those questions filled the fire to write. Writedown all of the what ifs as it was reality for your character. Maybe in this fictional life, you two have your happy ending.  
Your writing process was interrupted by your bestie phone call that you, of course, picked up. “Hey” you could hear the kids scream as if you were there.
“Are you coming to pick the kids up?” she asked, remembering you, you promised her to take them to have ice cream and for a walk. You facepalm. You forgot about it.
“Oh sorry, A. Yeah,of course. I’ll pick them up in 30 minutes. I’m sorry, i forgot” you apologised starting to walk towards your bedroom to get change. You still have your pajamas on. 
“It’s okay y/n. I knew you would probably forget that’s why I called. They will be ready when you get here. Thank you, i love you” you said i love you back and ended the call. 
You chose to wear a tracksuit, trainers and a coat. It was really cold this year in particular. But you loved it. You weren’t a fan of summer that much. You preferred snow and hot chocolate. Cuddling in bed to keep yourself warm. And playing cards near the chimney. You Loved autumn and winter, it made you feel special. 
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So today was the day, the day he probably would become officially single. Charles really hated the divorce process. It was a very painful one. He had, once again, broken another woman’s heart. He wasn't proud of it but he really wanted to do things the right way from now on. No more bullshit. No more feeling guilty of the past, tied to it as if he had to pay for everything. So 6 months ago he communicated it to Alex, it was really heavy on the heart scene. He felt like an actual monster. However, he started therapy. He was starting to understand himself more and learning to forgive himself for every decision he took that maybe wasn’t the best, but he didn't know better. He was young and about to become one of the most successful drivers in formula one. He thought he knew what he was doing to then realize he actually didn't at all. 
He started his day journaling. He tried to write something but all he could do was drawing your face. That image he couldn't stop seeing every time he closed his eyes. He felt scared about it but he let himself follow along. It was best to try to take you out of his mind in some way. Then after breakfast he decided to play some piano and record new parts of a new piece he was working on. He sent it to his producer and drove to Carlos' house to have lunch together. Lando was also there. They all chatted and enjoyed barbeque at Carlos’ beach house. 
And at that moment, talking in the living room, something changed. 
“Yeah, I don't know. I think she is a writer. I always see her on the balcony surrounded by multiple sheets of papers and a computer. Or maybe she is a translator or something I don't know but she is cute, you know? Maybe you can hit on her lando " Carlos commented while serving more wine to their cups.
“Do you follow her on instagram or something?” Lando asked for further information, apparently interested. Charles was zooming out thinking about you. 
“Oh no I don't, I don't even know her name but” Carlos opened his window curtains “yup, there she is” Carlos pointed to the balcony that was visible from there. Lando patted Charles' arm so the three of them could see through the window hoping the woman wouldn't notice them. 
“Oh my god” Charles almost fainted when he saw you there in your sherk pajamas drinking from an avengers cup (you didn't change that, though. You still are a geek for movies, superheroes, comics and books he guessed). Your balcony was quite close, the view was 4k. The guys who looked at Charles getting whiter, felt weirded out about his reaction.
“All right mate? I don't think she is that ugly, you know? I mean, she is fine as hell if you ask me and I'm not that into red hair” Lando said, checking on charles.
“Yeah, maybe she is too beautiful… now that he’s officially single” Carlos added.
Charles shook his head going back to the sofa.
“It’s y/N, carlos. y/n it’s your fucking neighbor. She was there all this time and i didnt fucking know. I don't know how I never bumped into her " Charles spitted with so much mixed feeling. Lando and Carlos looked at each other. Carlos closed the curtains before sitting along them.
“Mate, i didn't have a clue she could be y/N to be honest. I’ve never met her, "Carlos explained himself.
“Wait, who’s y/N? And why is she neighbors with you?” Lando was confused. For a moment he thought they were joking but Charles looked affected. He missed a part of Charles' story or something. The only woman he met was alexandra and she is officially out of his life.
“It’s his ex, like the one” Carlos explained to him but then Lando was even more confused. Charles noticed and with a sigh he explained the situation better in his opinion.
“y/n was my girlfriend during my f2 days. I left her for Alex but since that moment I regret it. It was like 10 years ago. "Lando's face expressed understanding with his mouth showing an ‘o’.
“So I guess I can't date her now, right?” Lando said, receiving a correcting punch on his arm by carlos. “Alright, alright” 
“I need to go guys, i got stuff to do” Charles said after a long silence and stood up ready to go. He Couldn't stay longer. He needed to breathe some air. He was scared. He actually hated feeling like that. Scared of what? Of her? Of himself? Of the truth? The truth that maybe he did indeed waste all of these years pretending to like his life when all he wanted to do was go back to her? Maybe. But the truth was too heavy to admit and process. 
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You were out with your nephews. It was a saturday afternoon, cold but the sun was shining bright. Between giggles you were walking with them to their favorite ice cream shop. 
Unfortunately, it was LEC ice cream. 
Benjamin and Renato were four years old, they were twins. And then there was Dante who was 6 years old. They were messy but today was a good day, they were chilling. They ran inside the ice cream shop all excited followed by you. You closed the door and they were already on the counter talking with the cashier. You smiled shyly. 
“good afternoon” you greeted her and she smiled back at you.
“Auntie, I want the chocolate one! It is always so yummy!” said Benjamin, excitedly grabbing your coat and pulling from it in desperation. He did a few little excited jumps as his twin. 
“No! Benjamin! I want the chocolate one!” Renato got mad at his brother. Their voices were so cute they made you giggle a bit. 
“It's alright boys, you both can get the chocolate one” you said, mediating between the siblings smiling at the cashier. She noted and went to look for them. “Dante, darling, which one do you want?” He was the shyest out of them all. He was so like your best friend, polite and collected. He looked at the flavour list on the wall. 
“I want the vanilla one, please” he talked directly to the cashier making you smile proudly.
“That’s my boy,” you said, congratulating him. Seeing him smile filled your heart full. You loved those three kids with your whole heart. You always get so emotional realising how fast they are growing. 
“Alright, gentlemen, here are your ice creams” the cashier said warmly and rounded the counter to give the ice cream to each one of them. You smiled watching the scene. They got shy but grabbed their ice creams anyway. 
“What do you say boys?” you looked at them gently. 
“Thank you very much” they said in unison, making the cashier smile widely. “go seat” you told them and they obeyed you. You got close to the cashier now in her seat on the counter. “How much is it?” you asked but before she could answer you, a voice, that fucking voice, interrupted.
“It’s on the house” you wanted to believe it was a dream and that it wasn’t real. But it was. It was charles. You turned to look at him a bit confused about the whole situation. He smiled at you again, the same way he did at the restaurant. You tried to play it cool, but you knew your smile and attitude were weird. 
“Oh, thank you. It wasn’t necessary” you said politely and he shook his head. 
“No problem, for real” he said and you half smiled in return. 
“Thank you” you say for both of them and went to sit with your boys at the sofa table they chose. You just didn't want to look at him that much nor you didn't know what to say. “Hey” you greeted them, and took some napkins from the table and cleaned the twins' faces full of chocolate. you smiled funny. Dante got closer to you while you were helping Benjamin clean his hands. 
“Auntie, is that the driver dad is a fan of?” he asked shyly close to you and really low so only you could hear him. 
“I think it is darling, would you like a picture with him?” you offer sweetly. He nods, smiling brightly. That made your heart race because you now have to talk to charles. You could hear him talking to his employees in a relaxed way. You could hear he came just to check in. 
You licked your lips nervously “i'll be right back, okay?” you tell the kids and stand up to walk right back to the counter. Your heart was racing. “Um, excuse me” you tried to capture his attention, and for sure you did. He looked at you immediately. His eyes found yours and you felt your heart skip a beat for a moment. “Sorry, but one of my nephews recognized you and I wanted to ask you if you could take a picture with him? Don't mean to bother you, of course,” you finally said. And you saw his face light up instantly. You were pretending you didn't know each other. You just played along without even mentioning it. You swallowed hard half smiling.
“Of course, no problem,” he said sweetly.
“Thank you” you said to him before getting to the kids.
“It's fine,” he assured you. 
You called Dante to come over and he came all shy. “Hey champ, is it good?” Charles was squatting to be on Dante's height. He talked really sweet to him. Dante stuck to you, intimidated to  have that awesome driver his dad loved so much. He nodded looking at him. “You wanna take a picture? I’ll be really happy to have one with you”  he said sweetly so Dante would loosen himself. He looked at me for aprovation. You just smiled and nodded at him excitedly. Dante then relaxed, nodding towards Charles in a huge smile. He gave him a hug and charles’ heart melted between the kid’s arms. 
They posed together and you took as many pictures as you could. And after cleaning Benjamin and Renato`s faces again, they also posed with charles. They started yapping with him and imitating car noises. They made you laugh for a bit. 
They got so excited, they gave Charles so many hugs. You played along so they can have a great moment to remember someday. You recorded some videos to send to your best friend agostina later, so she can have the memories. “My daddy loves you! He always screams to the tv ‘GOOO CHARLES GOOOO’ ” Dante commented imitating his dad in the funniest way making you laugh. “But he doesn't like Carlos that much, he prefers hamilton!”
“Oh wow, you are an expert in formula 1. Who’s your daddy?” Charles really engaged with your nephews. He even sat next to you so he could have a conversation with them. He got confused for a bit, he believed they were your children. But it didn't seem like that. 
“My dad is andrew and my mom is agostina, and she is auntie y/N” dante explained to charles the whole family dynamic in his way. You smiled nodding looking at Dante, then moved to see charles. He now understood the whole thing. You were their aunt. His heart melted for a moment. He didn't know what to say.
Benjamin asked you to grab him and you did. You sat him on your tights, and he was sleepy. You stroke his thin shiny hair gently as he pressed his head on your chest wanting to fall asleep. 
Charles looked at you with a half smile.
“I think it’s time to go home kids, mommy is waiting for you. It’s pizza night!” you told them funny and excited so they would get excited. Dante celebrated along with Renato doing a victory dance making you and Charles let out a laugh.
“Let me give you a ride, that baby wants to sleep,” Charles offered sweetly, looking at Benjamin in your chest. He was trying to play it cool but his heart was speeding faster than his car in any race. Looking at you like this, made him regret every single decision of his life. How could he leave you like that? He wanted to punch himself on the face because he was sure you hated him. So it was impossible to get a second chance nor that he believed he deserved it. 
You doubted but he got a point. Walking ten blocks with a baby or two in your arms was not gonna be an easy task and your back will suffer a lot. You sighed. “Alright, thank you. It’s really nice of you” you gave in at his offer and he smiled widely. 
“Alright, let’s go home guys” Charles announced. The cashier was even more confused than the two of you were. Since when did Charles Leclerc engage so much with strangers and offer them a lift? They must not be strangers at all. They must know each other all too well. 
⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
Charles helped you get the kids in the car, or well, his Ferrari  that was parked one block away. Dante, all excited, wanted to touch every single thing the car had so you had to tell him to calm down and behave for a bit. You got in the passenger seat. 
Charles let you use his phone so you put your friend's address on it. He now knew where you lived and he was thinking of offering to drop you there after leaving the kids but at the same time he didn't want to be so invasive. 
Smelling your perfume was sending him on a spiral. You still had that effect on him. And he didn't know how to feel about it. You didn't look at him. You probably hate him, he thought. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. But then why did you let this happen? Because of the kids? It was ten blocks away. He stopped himself from keeping up his delusions for way too long he would believe them. He felt like a kid about this whole thing with you. Or the one you had. The life you had. You made him and his family so happy. Arthur still likes you, you always had a soft spot on his heart. And that made Charles feel miserable. 
The drive was silent. The kids fell asleep in like three blocks. You were so nervous you would throw up right then and there. You just looked out through the window. You didn't want to talk that much with him. You knew that would be dangerous. 
He knew it too. He knew all too well what you were trying to do and in a way he was thankful for it. But in another way, he just wanted to know everything about you, again. 
A million questions were playing again and again in your heads silently but agonizingly at the same time.
Ten minutes later, you were finally on your destination: your best friend’s, agostina, house. She was waiting at the porch of her house. When she saw the black ferrari stop by her sidewalk she frowned. She thought you were coming on foot with her three children. 
You looked at charles in a half smile, just praying your friend doesn't get mad at you for this insane idea. “Thank you for lifting us” you said shortly and he nodded. It was awkward. 
“Let me help you” Charles said and both of you got out of his car. 
When your friend first saw you, she looked confused, with a million question marks in her eyes. But then, when she saw Charles coming off the driving seat, her eyes almost fell out. I mean, she was relieved that it was him at some point but not so much out of concern for you. 
“Hey, A” Charles greeted her with a wave helping you wake the kids up. He remembers your friend, of course. He remembered everything about you. 
“Hey, charles. It’s been a long time” A said, grabbing Benjamin from your arms. Charles helped Dante and you grabbed Renato in your arms. Both baby twins were knocked out sleeping. Dante grabbed his mum's hand and waved to Charles in a goodbye. He closed his Ferrari door and waved to us. You just smiled. You were in the most uncomfortable situation of your life. You didn't have a good feeling about this. 
You felt it was the beginning of the end, for some odd reason you couldn't identify yet. 
“Bye charles!” Dante said happily and was still a bit sleepy. Agostina smiled at him but when she turned to look at you, her eyes were screaming “ARE YOU CRAZY GIRL?” and how could you blame her for it. You just put her kids into the car of a known stranger. 
Charles observed the situation with you and your friend from his car. The sunset sun made you glow. And your eyes were so shiny he got confused for a bit if he was actually dreaming. He made his horn sound and disappeared into the monaco streets pretty fast. 
⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
Cozy wrapped around blankets and pillows, your friend brought you a cup of hot chocolate. You decided it was to sleep overnight to gossip because Andrew, her husband, was out of town for work. The kids were sleeping in their rooms. The baby monitor in front of you two. You were laying on the living room couch with ambient music in the background playing from the tv above the chimney. 
“I can't believe you bumped into Charles, to be honest. It's been ten years, you have never seen him and out of nowhere you see him everywhere” your friend was as surprised as you were. 
“Yeah, I don't know. I feel really weird about it. I thought next time i would bump into him i would be dead but i’m still alive so far. He felt so different… Yet he felt the same. His perfume was the same. His eyes are the same, the way they shine and…” you sighed stopping yourself. You started crying. You didn't know what you were feeling. If you were supposed to feel happy or angry or sad. The stress level was at its peak. It was too much emotionally to handle. 
It hurts you to pretend you didn't know him, that you didn't want him or that he was once your everything and now he was a stranger. A stranger holding so many secrets of you. All of your life traumas and experiences, your virginity, your first ever love story (and the only one). It still hurts because it couldn't be easier. Why couldn't it be forever together as you dreamed? When you saw him you felt the same as that last day you watched him leave that motherfucking restaurant. 
Your friend hugged you understanding how hard this was for you. And how frustrating it must feel to finally be ready to move on and then he is back just like that. How unfair life could be, right? She felt so sorry for you. You deserved to be so happy yet here we are, still crying for that ficking stupid asshole. 
It felt like the beginning of the end.
⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
“Hey, Arthur, I'm officially and legally single again. Want to have dinner at my place?” Charles called his brother on his Ferrari the second he sat in the driver’s seat. He needed to talk to someone about what happened this afternoon. His anxiety had made a hole in his stomach and he almost threw up a couple of times. 
He felt guilty. Like he did something terrible lifting you and your nephews to your friend’s house.
“Bro!!! That’s amazing!! Ready to enjoy life? I’ll be there in 30 minutes, and order some steak. I’ll bring wine. Love you!!” he shouted into the phone making Charles put it a little far away from his ear so he won't be left deaf. He ended the call, so Charles couldn't say otherwise. He giggled a little to himself. He loved his family, but especially Arthur, he was his little brother, and also his best friend.  
After a few minutes, he was already wearing his comfy clothes and had ordered the stake his brother told him to. He had set the table and put some random playlist on spotify on shuffle. Now that he was home, the hole in his stomach was not as huge as it was during the day. His house was his safe place. Though, it still felt weird not having leo (his and alex’s puppy son) or alex around. He tried so hard to love her, he got used to having her around. The chemicals on his brain were adjusting still to his new life. He changed furniture and redecorated the whole house. He wanted to start again from zero. Rebuilt himself step by step and finally, the Charles he always wanted to be. 
The bell took him out of his thoughts announcing his brother had arrived. 
“Hey, Brody,” Arthur said excitedly, hugging his brother when the older one opened the door. Arthur was really proud of his brother. He knew how hard all of it was. And how hard he was with himself when it came to mistakes committed in the past.
⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
They sat on the couch in front of the tv with everything already tidy up and with their stomachs full. They talked about everything and anything but yet not about her. 
“I brought you something, wait a second” Arthur said and got up looking for his bed. Charles observed his brother a little tipsy by wine already. He didn't know what to expect from him. He was always a surprise box. “I know you saw her again, I don't know how you feel about it but I know we will eventually talk about her. But I think it will help you if you read her book. I think it’s a fictional story but the way she tells it… i think it can make you reflect on what happened.” he added coming back from his bag with a book in hand. After he sat again on the couch he handed it to charles. Charles listened and watched the book in front of him. He took it carefully.
“I saw her today, she was with her nephews. I also know where she lives now as well. It was at carlos’ house and he was talking about his neighbor being attractive so Lando could try and hit on her. So he opened the fucking curtains and there she was on her balcony. I almost choked and died. Then I saw her at LEC. and I gave her a lift to her friend’s house. "Charles started throwing up everything that happened that day. Arthur’s eyes were big as plates. He couldn't understand how his brother survived o all of that. I mean, he was happy. He loved y/n, but he knew damn too well it was probably a nightmare for his brother to go through all of that. 
“Oh my god, charles. And you also were announced to be single legally? How did you survive? I'm impressed. You’re strong dude” arthur commented half joking half serious. Charles laughed it out a bit shaking his head. 
“I don't know but all I know is that my heart almost stopped how fast it was beating,” Charles answered.
“That’s called anxiety,” Arthur pointed out.
“I know. I was scared. She looked even more beautiful than she ever did or that I remember” he grabbed the book in his hands more strongly. He took a deep breath. “Today was too much for me,” his brother agreed. 
After Arthur was gone, Charles sprinted to his bed. He had a headache. He wanted to pretend it was because of the two bottles of wine they drank. But he knew it was because of overthinking. He laid in bed. Book in his hands. He started analyzing the cover: It was light blue, her favorite color he remembered. A red scarf and autumn leaves falling down. Her name is printed on the corner of it. He brushed his thumb above it taking a moment.
Adjusting his glasses he flipped to the back cover of it and that’s where something changed inside him.
‘Just between us, did the love affair maim you too?’
⋆˚࿔ TO BE CONTINUED 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
chapter three: coming soon.
tag list: @a-beaverhausen , @priniya , @annaluna12 , @thehoplessromanticclub , @emryb , @hadids-world , @kaztheemyth , @freyathehuntress , @diorbrxtz , @theseerbetweenus , @sie17136
shout out: thank you to my girlies from the gc (ur the best i<3u all), specially Sonny for hyping and helping me sm with this!
author's note: here it is <3 i'm so excited about this series! Sorry if you don’t see that much French I know NOTHING of it so yeah :(
what do you think it's gonna happen next?
don't forget to like, reblog or comment! and follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)
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thefreakandthehair · 1 month ago
Text
fireplace.
written for @steddieholidaydrabbles & @steddiemas | prompts: fireplace and cabin | wc: 969 | rating: teen & up | tags: mutual requited pining, post-canon, steve pov, getting together, first kiss, winter fluff, artist!Eddie, domestic
It was supposed to be a group trip.
After they’d lost their spring and summer to fighting off an apocalypse, and then their fall to nursing their injuries both physical and mental, they’d wanted to get away. Steve, Robin, Argyle, Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie had planned on taking advantage of the Harrington’s cabin just over the border to Michigan, but it fell apart as quickly as it had come together. Robin’s parents booked a surprise trip to France, Karen and Ted wanted to spend more time with Nancy, Mike, and Holly, Argyle’s family wanted him to come back for the holidays and where Argyle goes, Jonathan goes.
It was supposed to be a group trip but instead, Steve finds himself alone in the cozy midwestern retreat with Eddie, his mismatched socked feet on Steve’s lap, and the sounds of his humming as he scribbles something in his notebook.
Steve doesn’t mind— in fact, he feels a little bit guilty because he almost… well, he’s glad that it ended up being just the two of them. He loves Robin, and he’s really come around to Jonathan, Argyle, and Nancy as good friends and not just fellow involuntary soldiers forced to band together, but there’s just something different about his time with Eddie.
When it’s just the two of them, no one asking for rides or teasing either of them for how close they sit on the couch, Steve relaxes. He breathes. He just is. Eddie doesn’t expect much of him, or if he does, he never lets on and Steve certainly isn’t going to ask and ruin the moment. Just like the moment he finds himself in now: comfortable silence broken by nothing but a crackling fire and the sound of Eddie’s pencil against the page.
“What’re you doing over there?” Steve asks, gently squeezing Eddie’s calf with the hand he hadn’t realized was absentmindedly rubbing up and down Eddie’s soft, worn-in sweatpants.
“Huh?” Eddie looks up, eyebrows hitched up and pencil coming to a halt. “Oh, nothing. Just sketching, I guess.”
“Is it for the campaign?” Steve grins. “Can I see? I won’t tell Dustin, I promise.”
“That little shit would bat his eyes twice and you’d spill the whole ending, are you kidding me?” Eddie laughs, pulling his notebook closer to his chest. “And no, it’s not for the campaign anyways. It’s for my eyes only.”
“Oh, now all of a sudden, we’re keeping secrets?” Steve shakes his head and rolls his eyes, fond.
“It’s just lame, at least by my standards. There’s not a single snake or skull on this page, man. Nothing interesting, Boy Scouts’ Honor.” Eddie gives Steve a sly salute and Steve snorts, scooting closer so Eddie’s feet hang fully over his legs, his knees bent over Steve’s thighs.
“You were never a Boy Scout, so that means nothing,” he starts. “Besides, it doesn’t have to be all dark or whatever for me to think it’s interesting. It’s interesting because it’s yours.”
His voice comes out a little softer than he anticipated, all humor gone and replaced with hushed vulnerability. Eddie picks up on it, like he always does when it’s Steve, and tilts his head slightly.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Steve nods, squeezes Eddie’s leg again but with intention this time.
“Tell anyone and I’ll find a way to resurrect Vecna, okay?”
“I’ll probably tell Robin,” Steve admits.
“I always assume you’ll tell Robin; she doesn’t count.” Eddie chuckles under his breath with a crooked smile, peeling his notebook away from his chest. “Alright, here.”
He looks away as he hands the notebook to Steve and Steve’s breath catches in his throat. Eddie’s art takes up two full pages, the cabin sketched in pencil and the fireplace detailed with varying shades of graphite. Dark gray stones from the mantle to the ceiling, roaring flames that seem to move in tandem with the fire right in front of them, dancing and crackling both on the page and in real life. The wooden logs on the page mirror the old-world charm of the walls that surround them, and in the center of it all, Steve sits on the couch with Eddie’s legs in his lap and a notebook in Eddie’s hands.
Steve looks closer, picking out the minutiae he’s missed from his own perspective. His features are soft, shadows from the fire across his Hawkins High hoodie, and more importantly, Eddie isn’t drawing in his sketch. He’s not scribbling away, shading, his tongue just barely poking out between his teeth in concentration. No, on the page, Eddie’s not even looking at his notebook.
He’s looking at Steve.
“Wow,” Steve exhales, finally looking back to Eddie and his hesitant, worried eyes. “Ed, this is incredible. You call this uninteresting?”
“You like it?”
“I love it,” he responds. The I love you stays silent. “Is this really how you see me?”
“Not exactly. I’m uh,” Eddie pauses, seems to draw up courage as he sits up a little straighter. “I’m not a good enough artist to draw you how I see you.”
Silence sits heavy between them, joining them on the couch as Steve tries to figure out what to do, how to decipher if the warmth in his chest is from what he thinks Eddie’s trying to say or from the fire in front of them.
It’s just the two of them and, well, words have never really been Steve’s strength, have they?
Eventually, he’ll find the words to tell Eddie how he sees him, how he feels about him; Steve will tell him that he feels like hot chocolate and warm blankets, and that sometimes he drives him a little insane but in all of the best ways.
For now though, it’s just the two of them with Steve’s lips against Eddie’s, and that’s more than enough.
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wolverigrl · 3 months ago
Note
Hugh x reader.
Reader is a mom of two young kids, something like Pre-K and 4/5th grade. She gets her hopes too high thinking her ex husband will at least show up for the kids 1st day of school but they all get disappointed; Hugh as the gentleman/sweetest dad he is steps up and takes care of it making a surprise for them
Broken Promises
Hugh Jackman x f!reader
A/N: I hope I won't trigger someone's serious daddy issues like I did to me lmao. But seriously, I had fun writing this one, too!
Warnings: angst, some swearing here and there, mentions of unavailable parent
---------------------------------------------------
The house was unusually quiet for a Saturday afternoon. Too quiet. I found myself pacing the living room again, eyeing the clock, then the door, and back to the clock. I had done this routine enough times to know how it usually ended. Ethan and Mason were perched on the couch, peeking out the window every now and then, waiting for the unmistakable sound of their father’s car pulling into the driveway.
"Mom, when's Dad coming?" Ethan asked for what felt like the hundredth time. His voice had that hopeful, uncertain edge that always tore at my heart.
Ethan was nine now, old enough to sense when something wasn’t quite right but still young enough to wish it wasn’t true.
I ran a hand through my hair and forced a smile.
"Soon, sweetheart. He said he’d be here."
Ethan nodded, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. He was too smart for his own good. Mason, on the other hand, was sprawled across the floor with his toys, blissfully unaware of time and promises. At four, he was still full of that magical childhood innocence where you believe everything will always work out.
The boys weren’t the only ones waiting. Hugh, Ava, and Oscar were here too. Ava, Hugh’s 12-year-old daughter, was curled up on the couch, nose buried in a book while Oscar, his 17-year-old son, was tapping away on his phone, though he glanced at me from time to time with a knowing look. Hugh was in the kitchen, pretending to busy himself, but I knew him well enough to catch his subtle glances toward the front door. He was watching too.
Waiting.
The doorbell rang, cutting through the tense silence like a knife. Mason jumped up immediately, his little face lighting up with excitement as he dashed to the door. "Daddy!" he shouted, his tiny hands struggling to twist the doorknob before Ethan quickly helped him.
And there he was. Matthew.
My ex-husband.
Standing there with that familiar polished grin, the same one that had fooled me for years before I realized it was more charm than substance.
He looked every bit the smooth-talking lawyer he was, hair neatly combed, wearing an expensive suit that screamed 'I don’t have time for this', but here I am anyway.
"Hey, buddy!" Matthew exclaimed as Mason leapt into his arms, his voice dripping with enthusiasm. He shot a quick glance at me, his smile faltering for a second before he smoothly recovered. "Sorry I’m late. Busy day at work."
"Of course you are." I muttered under my breath. But the boys didn’t care.
They only saw their dad, and that was enough for them. Ethan approached more cautiously, his eyes studying Matthew, almost as if he were waiting to see if this time would be different. I knew that look all too well.
"Hey, Ethan!" Matthew said, ruffling his son’s hair. "Got something for you both." He reached into the sleek black bag slung over his shoulder and pulled out two shiny, brand-new backpacks.
Mason squealed with delight, clutching his in his arms like it was made of gold, while Ethan’s expression shifted from excitement to hesitation.
"Cool, thanks, Dad." He said, a polite smile on his face. I could see the wheels turning in his head, though. A backpack didn’t make up for missed promises, no matter how shiny it was.
"Are you gonna come tomorrow?" Ethan asked quietly, looking up at his father with those wide, hopeful eyes that always broke my heart. "For the first day of school?"
"Of course, buddy!" Matthew said without hesitation. He leaned down, crouching to their level and placing a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. "I wouldn’t miss it for the world! I’ll be there, bright and early."
I crossed my arms, leaning against the wall, watching this scene play out like it always did. Matthew was nothing if not consistent in his ability to make promises he couldn’t keep.
Before I could say anything, Hugh walked out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel. His presence was calming, always steady and reassuring. He gave me a small, knowing smile before turning his attention to Matthew.
"Matthew." Hugh said, his voice polite but firm as he extended his hand.
"Hugh." Matthew replied, shaking it with the same rehearsed friendliness he used with clients.
They had met a handful of times, and while Matthew had never said anything outright, I could tell he wasn’t thrilled about another man stepping into the lives of his children.
The boys were still fawning over their backpacks when Ava and Oscar joined us in the living room. Ava smiled warmly at Mason, ruffling his hair.
"Nice backpack boys!"
Oscar stood beside Hugh, his tall frame giving him an almost protective air.
"You guys excited for school tomorrow?" he asked, nudging Ethan playfully. Ethan grinned full of excitement.
Matthew didn’t stay long. He never did. After about twenty minutes of small talk and handing out gifts, he was already looking at his watch. "Alright, I’ve gotta go." he said, standing up and straightening his suit. "But I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? Bright and early as I said!"
The boys hugged him, clinging to him like they always did, desperate for any time they could get with him. And just like that, he was gone.
I watched the door close behind him, and a familiar tightness settled in my chest. The boys turned back to their new backpacks, their excitement renewed, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that tomorrow would end in disappointment. Again.
Hugh caught my eye from across the room, sensing my unease. He walked over, his hand resting on the small of my back, and leaned in to whisper. "You okay?"
I sighed, rubbing my temples. "I don’t know. I want to believe him, but… I can’t keep letting the boys get hurt. Ethan’s starting to get it, Hugh. He knows when Matthew’s lying now."
Hugh’s expression softened, and he pulled me closer. "Hey, I’ll be there. We’ll be there. They won’t be alone. I promise."
I leaned into him, closing my eyes, letting his warmth seep into me. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."
"You’ll never have to find out, love." he whispered into my hair, kissing the top of my head.
The next morning, I woke up to the smell of pancakes. The house was already buzzing with energy, far earlier than I expected. I shuffled downstairs, still groggy, only to stop in my tracks at the sight that greeted me.
The living room was transformed. Balloons and streamers hung from the ceiling, and a colorful banner that read 'First Day of School!' stretched across the doorway. The kitchen table was covered in every breakfast food imaginable - pancakes, bacon, eggs, fruit, even little bowls of candy that Mason would definitely notice first.
I blinked, rubbing my eyes. "Hugh, did you…?"
He turned from the stove, grinning at me like a kid who had just pulled off the best surprise. "Figured we’d make it special."
Tears welled up in my eyes, unbidden, and I pressed a hand to my mouth. "I-I can’t believe you did all this!"
Hugh crossed the room in a few strides, pulling me into his arms.
"It’s their first day of school. Gotta make it a big deal, right?"
The kids came rushing down the stairs next, their faces lighting up at the sight. Ethan and Mason squealed in delight, darting between the living room and the kitchen like it was the best thing they had ever seen.
"This is awesome!" Ethan shouted, his eyes wide with excitement.
Ava grinned as she joined us at the table, patting the seat next to her for Mason, while Oscar laughed at his little brother’s excitement. "Told you Dad goes all out!" Oscar teased.
Hugh winked at me, flipping another pancake onto the stack.
"It's a big day. Gotta start it right!"
And it was. For a few precious moments, everything felt perfect. The kids were happy, the atmosphere light and joyous, and the worries from yesterday seemed far away.
But when we got to the school, reality came crashing back. We stood outside the classroom door, surrounded by other excited parents and their children, and the boys kept glancing toward the entrance. Waiting.
"Is Daddy coming?" Mason asked again, his voice laced with hope.
"He said he would." I murmured, though I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince anymore.
The minutes ticked by, and the crowd around us thinned as more and more families said their goodbyes and headed inside. But Matthew never showed. And I could see the hope fading from Ethan’s eyes.
Hugh stepped forward, crouching down to their level. "Hey, guys.." he said, his voice soft but upbeat. "Your dad’s probably stuck at work, but that doesn’t mean today isn’t special. You’ve got all of us here, and we’re so proud of you. Right, Ava?"
Ava nodded, smiling warmly at Ethan. "You’re gonna rock it, Ethan! I just know it."
Oscar clapped Mason on the back, grinning. "And Mason, you better show them how it’s done, okay?"
Mason giggled, his spirits lifting, but Ethan was still quiet. Hugh reached out, gently tilting Ethan’s chin up. "You’re gonna be amazing today. And no matter what, we’re always here for you. Okay?"
Ethan swallowed, his eyes glistening a little, but then he nodded, managing a small smile. "Okay."
I pulled him into a hug, my heart aching for him. "I love you so so much, Ethan. You’re going to do great!"
Mason was next, clinging to my leg before I knelt down to hug him properly.
"Be good, okay? Listen to your teacher, and have fun. I love you so much!" He nodded eagerly, bouncing on his toes, the weight of disappointment not yet touching him the way it did Ethan.
We said our goodbyes to Ava and Oscar, sending them off to their own classes, before Hugh and I turned to leave. As we walked out of the school, my chest felt tight.
The weight of everything - the missed promises, the endless hope that Matthew would change, the constant pain in Ethan’s eyes - was pressing down on me harder than usual.
I could feel Hugh’s arm around my shoulders, warm and reassuring, but it wasn’t enough to chase away the hurt. We stepped out into the parking lot when I heard someone call my name.
"Y/n! Wait!"
I froze, my blood running cold as I turned to see Matthew jogging up the sidewalk, his suit jacket slightly askew, as if he had hurried over at the last minute.
My stomach twisted in knots.
Now?
After all this time, after the boys had gone inside? My hands balled into fists at my sides.
"I’m sorry!" Matthew said, breathless, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "I got caught up at the office, but I’m here now. I didn’t want to miss it."
Something in me snapped. All the hurt, all the frustration, all the times he had let our boys down over the years, rushed to the surface. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, my vision blurring as they spilled over before I could stop them.
"You’re sorry?" I spat, the words escaping me in a choked sob. I stormed toward him, fists clenched, my body trembling with rage. "You missed it, Matthew! You missed everything! They went into class without you!"
He looked startled, stepping back as I shoved his chest. "Y/n, come on, I said I’m sorry- "
"Sorry doesn’t fix it!" I screamed, slamming my fists into his chest again, harder this time.
"Do you have any idea how much Ethan was looking for you? How many times he asked about you?! Mason kept asking when you’d get here, and you didn’t show up! You weren’t here, Matthew! Again!"
I kept hitting his chest, my tears flowing freely now. My voice was loud, too loud, but I didn’t care. The dam had broken, and everything I had bottled up for years came pouring out.
"You promised me! You promised them you’d be here, and you weren’t! You never are!"
Matthew tried to catch my wrists, his face pale, eyes wide. “Y/n, stop- "
But I couldn’t stop.
The pain of watching my boys be disappointed time and time again was too much.
"You don’t get it! You don’t get to swoop in at the last second and act like everything’s fine!" I sobbed, my fists still pounding against his chest until I felt Hugh’s hands gently but firmly wrap around me, pulling me back.
"Y/n.." Hugh’s voice was steady, his grip gentle but unyielding as he pulled me away from Matthew. "That’s enough."
I collapsed into Hugh’s chest, my body trembling as I sobbed, the fight draining out of me as quickly as it had come. Hugh held me close, one hand cradling the back of my head, while I clung to him, my tears soaking into his shirt. He rocked me gently, whispering soothing words I couldn’t quite make out, but the warmth of his embrace calmed me, slowly but surely.
Matthew, still standing a few feet away, looked completely stunned, his mouth opening and closing as if he didn’t know what to say. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure.
"Look.. I’m sorry.." he said again, his voice weaker this time. "I really did try to make it.:
"That’s the problem, Matthew.." I whispered, my voice hoarse from crying. "You always try. But trying isn’t enough anymore."
Matthew’s face twisted with frustration. "I’m doing my best! It’s not like I’m trying to miss these things, you know. I have a job- "
"A job?!" I cut him off, my voice rising again despite myself. "I have a fucking job too! You think that’s an excuse? Ethan sees it, Matthew! He knows when you’re lying. And Mason? He’ll start seeing it soon too. They don’t care about your job. They care about you being here!"
Matthew clenched his jaw, his own frustration building.
"I don’t have the luxury of just playing house like you do, y/n! I have more responsibilities!"
"Playing house?" I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. "You have no idea what it's like to raise them. No idea what it feels like to watch their hearts break every time you don’t show up!"
"You don’t think I care?" Matthew shot back, his voice growing louder. "I’m doing the best I can with the time I have!"
"And it’s never enough.." I whispered, the fight leaving me again. I wiped at my eyes, exhausted.
"Hey." Hugh’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. His tone was sharp, but not raised. "That’s enough. You should be ashamed of yourself, Matthew."
As soon as Hugh said it, I saw Matthew’s posture change.
His eyes narrowed, his fists clenching at his sides. For a split second, I could see the switch flip in him, the smooth, collected persona cracking. Matthew wasn’t used to being challenged, especially not by someone like Hugh. Not by someone who had quietly stepped into the role Matthew had always fumbled.
"Excuse me?" Matthew’s voice was low, his eyes locked on Hugh. "Who the hell do you think you are?"
Hugh didn’t flinch.
He met Matthew’s glare head-on, his expression calm but firm.
"I think I’m the man who’s been here for your kids when you couldn’t be bothered to show up. And I’m telling you - what you’re doing is hurting them and y/n."
Matthew took a step forward, his face flushed with anger now. "You think you can just walk in and play daddy, huh? That you know what it’s like to juggle everything I do? You don’t get to stand there and judge me, Jackman."
I could feel the tension crackling between them, thick and heavy. Hugh was calm, still, like a rock against the storm that was Matthew’s rising temper.
My heart was pounding, the last remnants of my tears still clinging to my lashes as I watched, half-dazed from the emotional rollercoaster of the last few minutes.
Matthew sneered, stepping even closer. "You think you're so perfect, don’t you? Mr. Hollywood star, swooping in to save the day. You’re not their father. You’re nothing to them. Just a simple placeholder."
Hugh’s jaw tightened, and I saw the muscle twitch there. But he didn’t react the way Matthew clearly wanted him to. Instead, he exhaled slowly and said, "You’re right. I’m not their father. But I’m the one they can count on. I’m the one who’s here when they need someone. That’s what matters."
Matthew’s face twisted in frustration, his fists clenching tighter. He pointed at Hugh, his voice rising.
"You have no idea what it’s like to have your own life, your own responsibilities, and try to make time for everyone. It’s easy for you to stand there and act like the hero when you’ve got nothing else pulling you in a million directions!"
I stepped forward before Hugh could respond, my voice shaking with anger. "You think Hugh doesn’t have responsibilities? You think he doesn’t make sacrifices? He does all of this for our kids while you barely lift a finger! And you know what? He never complains! Never makes excuses. He just shows up. That’s what they need, Matthew - someone who shows up."
Matthew’s gaze flicked between me and Hugh, his expression growing darker by the second. He laughed sarcastically.
"You’re really going to take his side over mine, y/n? After everything?"
I scoffed, wiping the lingering tears from my eyes.
"I'm taking my sons’ side, Matthew. Because they deserve better than what you’re giving them. This isn’t about sides. It’s about what’s right for them."
Matthew again let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Unbelievable. You really think I don’t care, don’t you? That I don’t want to be there for them?"
"Well, If you wanted to be here, you would be." Hugh cut in, his voice sharp now, no longer willing to play nice.
"You wouldn’t be showing up late, making excuses, and disappointing them over and over. You’d be here, Matthew. It’s that simple."
"That simple?" Matthew’s voice was nearly a growl now.
"You have no idea what I go through - what I have to balance! It’s not as easy as you think, playing ‘Super Dad.’!" He stepped forward again, and for a second, I thought it might come to blows.
But Hugh, steady and calm, took a deliberate step forward too, closing the distance.
"As we said before.. It’s not about being perfect. It’s about being there. No one’s asking for you to be a superhero. They just want their dad to show up. You owe it to them to do better."
The tension between them felt like it was about to explode, and I could barely breathe, watching it unfold. I knew Matthew’s temper. I had seen it flare too many times. And I knew Hugh was protective, fiercely so, but not one to back down when it came to the people he loved.
Matthew’s nostrils flared, his fists still clenched at his sides.
"You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you? You think you can just walk into my life and replace me?"
Hugh’s gaze was steady, unwavering, but he couldn't help himself and let out a soft laugh.
"I don’t want to replace you, Matthew. But I won’t stand by and watch those boys get hurt because you can’t figure out your priorities."
I felt my body trembling again, but this time from the frustration and helplessness of it all. I had spent so long trying to protect my boys from this, trying to shield them from the disappointment of their father’s broken promises. And now, here it was, boiling over in front of me.
"Enough!" I yelled, my voice breaking as I stepped between them.
"This isn’t about either of you! It’s about Ethan and Mason. And I’m so tired of seeing them get hurt because you can’t keep your word."
Matthew blinked at me, his anger momentarily giving way to something else - something that looked like shame. But just as quickly, his walls went back up, and he shook his head, stepping back.
"This is ridiculous." he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I didn’t come here to be ganged up on."
I crossed my arms, feeling the weight of exhaustion press down on me.
"Then what did you come for, Matthew? Because if it wasn’t to be there for your sons before they go attend their very first day of school, I don’t see the point."
For a long moment, Matthew just stared at us, his jaw tight, his expression a mixture of anger and something else I couldn’t quite place. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed off down the sidewalk, leaving us standing there in the empty schoolyard.
I let out a shaky breath, my legs suddenly feeling like jelly as the weight of the moment caught up with me. Before I knew it, Hugh’s arms were around me again, pulling me close, holding me up as I leaned into him.
"You okay, love?" he whispered, his voice gentle, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back.
I nodded, though I didn’t trust my voice just yet. The anger, the hurt, the frustration - it was all still swirling inside me, but Hugh’s presence, his steady calmness, helped anchor me.
"I'm sorry.." I whispered, wiping at my tear-streaked face. "I didn’t mean to… to lose it like that."
"Don’t apologize." Hugh said softly, kissing the top of my head. "You had every right to say what you did. He needed to hear it."
I took a deep breath, finally pulling back to look up at him.
"I just… I hate that this is what it’s come to. That the boys keep getting hurt like this."
"They have you." Hugh said, his voice firm but full of warmth. "And they have me. We’ll get through this."
I nodded, though my heart still ached. "Thank you." I whispered. "For everything. For being here."
Hugh smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
"I’m always here, y/n. You and the boys - you’re my family too."
I felt a fresh wave of emotion wash over me, but this time, it was mixed with gratitude and love.
As we walked back to the car, hand in hand, I knew that no matter what happened with Matthew, no matter how many times he failed to show up, we would be okay. Because Hugh was right.
We had each other.
And that was enough.
---------------------------------------------------
Tags: @angelofthorr @haytchee
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shelbgrey · 6 months ago
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✨Pookie😏✨Mother Pinecone🥳✨Fellow Simp🤩✨ can I request some lovely shrexy headcanons for the one and only Sammy Winchester😳 I just need some fluff and steamy steamy spicy headcanons please🥹 I’ll pay😉🫴💰💳💵
Dating Sam Winchester Headcanons:
Paring: Sam Winchester X Singer!Reader
Summary: headcanons about Sam dating Bobby Singer's kid. -SMUT warning!
💚MasterList ML2 💚MoodBoard
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Between Sam being John's kid and you being Bobby's, you spent a lot of time together as kids.
You were always closer to Sam, you and him bonded over books and you were both the quiet ones.
It was obvious there was something between you two even when you were kids, but you were both completely clueless.
“the only two people who don't know Sam and y/n like each other are Sam and y/n” - Dean
But then he went off to college, you guys talked through letters and Emails for the first few months. Then he met Jes and you guys talked less and less.
Deep down Sam knew he dated Jess just to get over you, but then he felt awful to think that way after she died.
He never would have expected that you'd show up with Dean, telling him John was missing. Sam honestly hated to see the skilled hunter you have become, he always thought you deserved better.
Deep down he knew he stayed for you. College didn't matter much to him anymore and neither did finding his dad. He rekindled his friendship with you and wanted to protect you.
Hell, he would take you away from the hunting life if he could.
Before you knew it the three of you were a trio again. Saving people and hunting things together.
Then before you knew it you and Sam both fell back in to your original, clueless act you had with each other. It pissed Dean off, because he knew you guys liked each other.
Dean also knew neither one of you had the balls to admit your feelings. So he took matters into his own hands.
“Hey, y/n, you busy Saturday night?” Dean asked one night. “no?”
“Sammy, you sure as hell ain't busy” Dean joked, Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. “yeah... I'm not”
“good, because I am... You two go out and have a good time” Dean told you both.
Yeah Dean asked you out on a date for Sam. Both of you had mixed reactions, you didn't know how to proses what what just happened and Sam was just annoyed Dean was getting up in his business. Dean didn't stop you guys from going out.
he is sweet and gentle when he kisses you. The kisses you and him share are always sweet and full of passion. He pours everything into his kisses when his lips are on yours.
He definitely said 'I love you.' he said it after he had to save you from a vampires nest he told you he couldn't lose you and he loves you.
Sam would be the one to encourage you to go on rants or nerd out about things your passionate about. He'll listen beginning to end. If your like: “sorry if I'm talking too much” Sam will say: “no, no, keep going. I'm listening”
Not being stuck in his Tuesday time loop, but helping the best you can.
Sam's Hugs are warm and tight. Since he's so much taller than you he usually picks you up and holds you to his chest as your legs are wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck holding him tight.
he promised to himself and you that if you were to get hurt by anything and he did mean anything at all, he would kill it. Even the smallest cut or bruse on you, he would freak out and with a gun in his hand, he would go after the very thing that dared to put a wound on you.
Sex with him has always been on the Adventurous side, but he learns your limits quickly and wouldn't do anything to hurt you. But when soulless Sam shows up there's no slowing down.
Even though Soulless Sam is hot one of the things he cares about most is sex and it might seem that's all he wants at the time, but the moment you get hurt the person or thing that hurt you is in a heaping pile of blood and broken bones.
Research dates all the time, you think it's boring as hell but your happy just to he able to spend time with him.
He's a health nut so he's always getting on to you and dean about your eating habits. “you know those things could kill you, right?” Sam asks as he watches you drink a monster energy drink, you'll just shrug him off.
You appreciate his concerns and you do back off on some stuff and let him cook you a healthy meal.
“what is that?” you asked staring at the blender in Discussed. “it's a smoothy, its good for you” he said pouring you a cup. “it's green goop”
✨Forehead kisses✨ he's a giant after all, so it's easier and convenient to just give you a little kiss on the forehead. He also loves it when your setting in his lap and giving him the same treatment.
Matching bracelets. Jack went through a friendship bracelet making phase and you made a couple with him. You and Sam both have one, he refuses to take it off. “you don't have to wear it”
“no, I'm gonna wear it forever. Back off”
You and Sam are literally Jack's parents, you probably end up adopting him at some point.
Never giving up on getting him out of hell, you hated the fact Dean when to live with Lisa. So while he got a girlfriend you were threatening crossroad demons for awnsers.
Making dirty jokes with Dean all the time to annoy Sam.
If Dean pranks Sam, you'll help get back at Dean. One time you convinced Sam to have sex in the impala just to piss Dean off.
Lucifer has the undying love for you and hits on you all the time, it pisses Sam off to no end.
Getting to see Sully first hand because he knew how much Sam ment to you and Sully just really wanted to meet the person that made Sam so happy.
Jody being a mother to you.
He absolutely loves feeling your fingers run through his hair. He'll kill to have his head on your cheat while you play with his hair after a rough hunt.
If your a smut book you get really secretive about and he'll notice quickly. “What you reading?” you blush and hold the book away from him. “nothing”
If he gets a hold of the book and reads a steamy part if the book, he'll probably want to try what he read too.
This man need physical contact a lot. He's a big cuddler and just needs you in his arms, it's a comfort and a protection thing.
He wants to hold your hand all the time too, if your walking around the bunker or a town your hands will be locked together, or sometimes hell just hold your had while doing research.
Communication won't be a problem in your relationship. You both just find it so easy to talk to each other.
But if you get into a fight, your fight loud and mean. There will be the silent treatment.
He's a bed hog so get used to sleeping right on top of him or right up against him because there's no room for personal space when you share a bed, especially if it's a motel bed.
He also hogs blankets.
You have bad sex in the bunker library, do with that information as you will.
You steal his flannels all the time, they're just so big and comfy.
He's good at turning you on😏
NSFW headcanons:
Sammy has a size kink, he loves the fact you are shorter than him. It makes it easier for him to manhandle you and throw you around without even trying.
likes to pretty much fuck you stupid. like to the point your shaking, you only can think of his dick and babbling his name. you probably won't be walking the next morning.
he's ✨skilled✨ with his hands, those big massive hands. it doesn't matter what he's doing with them, in between your legs, your face, around your neck, in your hair, I don't matter he knows what he's doing.
Hair pulling, he loves feeling your fingers in his hair or he'll tangel his fingers in yours and tug on it when he's getting head or about ready to cum.
He didn't realize how much he actually liked it untill you started pulling on his hair while he was eating you out. “Damn... Do that again... Please”
Biting, he's loves marking you up. There has been many times you had to cover your neck with makeup, but most of the bite marks are on your thighs.
But he also lives for the moments where it's just sensual and gentle. He secretly loves just holding you and kissing you slowly.
He wants to see if he can he make you scream louder than he did the last time. He loves the noises you make.
He well bend you over the table in the bunker library and take you from behind.
The desk will creak from the force he uses and his large body will presse you hard against the desk.
He loves hearing the moans and gasps coming out of your mouth.
Part of him will want you to be louder, even though he knew you aren't supposed to be sometimes.
He'll mark your thighs with his teeth and biting hard enough to leave a light bruise.
Sam loves being dominate towards you. Choking you and edging you. “come on, Baby. Cum for me again”
He has big chocking kink, he won't be too rough about but he loves wrapping his fingers around your neck and feeling your pulse when he's ramming into you.
He has a tendency to grip the headboard when he's close to cumming.
“that’s it baby, there you go. takining me so well, honey.”
Sam loves the way his hands look on your body. Even better if you’re smaller than him, he just wants to be touching you all the fucking time.
He love getting head. I feel like he’d like having you on your knees. Plus, feeling your lips around him pushes him closer to cumming in your mouth.
If you’re struggling to take him in or taking long to adjust, he’ll whisper reassurances that you’re doing a good job while rubbing his hands on your back and thighs.
Sam first thought after sex he's always checking on you, making sure it felt good and your not sore. He is very gentle, cleaning you up and giving you anything you need before even thinking of himself.
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thicctails · 5 months ago
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I C R A V E more gbc au stuff: particularly with Bill: were the twins aware of Bill before gravity falls? what do they tell the twins about bill once they get there? how does bill and his parents even go about reconnecting?? I want to know more about the direct aftermath of the reunion. It's not hard to piece together Bill and Fords relationship from the journals: did they read into it the wrong direction or smth? Like Bill fucking traumatized Ford: Euclid and Scalene's estranged long lost son fucking severly traumatized and manipulated a realtive of their adoptive kids: there's gotta be more complex feelings there? Does Bill blame them for his medical trauma? do Scalene and Euclid regret that? did they have differing opinions on it back when? also like, now Bill is legit insane: what with him having been percieved insane or a ticking time bomb of insanity before how do they feel about that? do they have differeing opinions?????
FNSKJDFNSDKJ DSI C R A V E MORE FERERJSNJKFDNFKE
PLEASE FEED MEEEEE
Ask and ye shall r e c e i v e
Both Scalene and Euclid were under the impression that Bill died when Euclidea inevitably collapsed in on itself. They told Dipper and Mabel that they had a child, but never went into much detail, as it hurt too much to talk about.
(You can imagine how fucking gutted they were when they saw images of him all around the Shack. Journal 3 was just a big fat gob of salt in their open wounds)
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Reconnecting for them is like a healing an infected wound: you have to cut out the rot, grit your teeth for the burn of cleaning it out, work to keep the infection away, and accept the fact that there will be a scar.
Bill is so fundamentally broken and mentally unwell that not even the Axolotl can really fix him. The best he can do is help Bill get to a point where he can begin again in a different form. But getting to that point is the real trouble. It's rotten work, a path laden with pain and suffering and hurt feelings, but it's the only option worth fighting for.
Scalene and Euclid feel immense guilt for the mistakes they made raising Bill. They allowed themselves to be pressured into trying to make their gifted son normal, and everyone they ever loved and then some ended up paying the price. Bill may have started the fire, but their misguided good intentions handed him the match.
Bill himself is a whirlwind of emotions. He is unexplainably relieved that his parents are alive, but that also means that he can no longer possess a false bravado and pretend he intentionally slaughtered his entire dimension. His past is red and blue and in his face, and the voices have only gotten louder since he saw his mother's heartbroken face. Not only that, but they have, in his eye, replaced him with two of the people destined to destroy him! They look at Shooting Star and Pinetree with all the fondness they used to look at him with, and it makes his insides burn.
They also are constantly setting off each other's triggers, like some kind of sick oroborus of trauma. Bill's powers often manifest as pyrokinesis, which isn't great when your parents are still living with the horrific injuries caused by said fire. On the other side of the coin, Euclid has been soothing the twins with gentle TV static since they were little, since his preferred method of manifestation is screen-based technology, (whereas Scalene prefers music and books) which has caused Bill to spiral into a violent panic attack more than once.
As for Ford... well, neither Cipher parent is fond of him, as i've stated, but while they don't know the entire story of how his and Bill's time together was, they know enough to know that it ended in violence and misery, and they are not so heartless that they do not feel pity for the man and disgust towards their son's actions. They make it very clear to their eldest, when they can stand to speak to each other, that he is to never possess another member of the Pines family.
He only breaks that promise once, though it was for a good reason. Gideon needed a good beat down, and Pine Tree was too hurt to make that jump without help.
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midnighvtm4ss · 4 months ago
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CRIMSON TRAILS | Running Gun
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Pairing: John Marston x F!Reader CW: mentions of past abuse, animal death, gun fight, period typical violence, injuries, blood loss, needles, in my mind John is 6’0 ok?? let me dream. WC: 7k A/N: and the story begins!! im giggling posting this eheh took me longer than expected to finish the chapter ‘cause i needed it to be impeccable. It’s nowhere near perfect but i fear my brain will melt if I look a second more at its google doc. As always let me know what you think and if you’d like to see more. Likes, reblogs and comments are highly suggested so I know what’s going on in your minds. Also! let me know if you want to be in the taglist
series masterlist | masterlist I AO3 link
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The house always felt colder at night. Its long, empty hallways stretched out like an intricate maze, darkened by shadows that seemed to dance and twist with each flicker of candlelight. You had grown used to the chill that clung to your skin, used to the hollow feeling that echoed through the grand, oppressive mansion. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the distant tick of the grandfather clock at the end of the hall and the occasional clink of glass coming from the dining room downstairs.
You couldn’t sleep, like most nights, and wandered the corridors alone. Your little bare feet were silent against the polished floors as you wandered the empty corridors. Thankfully the second floor was empty, as all the maids were now occupied with a business party your father was hosting downstairs.
Not that it mattered, the maids barely looked at you anymore, and when they did, their eyes were sharp, filled with disdain. You heard them sometimes, whispering about you—how you were a burden, something unwanted. "The little ghost," they’d often call you, mocking how quiet and small you were. But it was the way your father looked at you that hurt most. Like you were the cause of everything wrong in his world. Like you had stolen something precious from him the day you were born.
Your chest tightened at the thought of him, and instinctively, your feet carried you toward the only place you ever felt safe.
A faint, warm glow spilled from beneath your brother’s door, a welcome contrast to the darkness of the house. You didn’t want to bother him, but you needed him. You always needed him. He was the only one who actually saw you, who cared for you in a world that seemed determined to treat you like a ghost and push you far away.
With a soft push, the door creaked open, revealing your brother, sitting on the edge of his bed. He was hunched over something, his dark hair messy from a long day. With the candlelight contrasting his frowning expression, he looked older than his sixteen years, but his eyes lit up when they met yours.
“Hey, Birdie,” he greeted, his warm voice chirped, though you could hear the exhaustion beneath it. “Can’t sleep again?”
You shook your head side to side and stepped into the room. The familiar scent of freshly washed bed sheets contrasted his usual scent of hay and tobacco wrapping around you like a blanket. He always smelled like the outdoors, like freedom. The kind of freedom that Governess Constance, the only person in that house aside from your brother that treated you like you were supposed to treat an eight years old kid, would read to you in one of your goodnight books.
“Come on then, sit here with me,” he said, patting the bed beside him. His voice was gentle, and as always, it soothed the growing ache in your chest. You scrambled up onto the bed, crossing your legs as you sat next to him.
On his lap was something wrapped in a soft cloth, the fabric fraying at the edges. He was working on it, carefully running a strange stone over the surface with long, practiced strokes. You watched in silence, following his every move with big curious eyes. The steady rhythm of the blade against the stone hypnotic.
“What’s that Isa?” You asked after a moment, your voice barely a whisper as you hugged one of his cushions.
Isaiah—your brother—hesitated, glancing at you from the corner of his eye before slowly unwrapping the cloth completely. Your breath caught in your throat as the object inside was revealed—a dagger. Not just any dagger, but a beautiful, intricately crafted one. The hilt was white adorned with swirling patterns with silver detailings, the blade gleamed in the candlelight, sharp and polished to perfection. A dangerous beauty.
“It’s for you,” he said quietly, holding it out for you to take.
Your eyes widened in disbelief. “For me?” you asked, your small hands trembling as you reached for it. The material of the hilt was cooler against your skin, the weight of the dagger much heavier than it looked. “W-why are you giving me this?”
He sighed, running a hand through his tangled hair, avoiding your gaze for a moment before putting one arm on your shoulder in a sideways embrace. “Because I can’t always protect you,” he said softly, the sadness in his voice startling you. He looked back at you then, his eyes shadowed with something you didn’t quite understand. “I’m not gonna be here much longer, Birdie.”
The words hit you like a punch much more painful than your father’s drunken beatings, knocking the air from your lungs. You stared up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “What do you mean?” Your voice cracked, tears started to pool in your eyes and the dagger trembled in your hands. He didn’t respond and looked down.
“No,” you whispered, shaking your head in denial. “You can’t. Y-you can’t leave me. You p-promised you’d stay. You promised!” the weight of the situation made your stutter come back. Your training with Miss Constance to tone it down out of the window in this moment.
“I know,” he said, his voice breaking with the weight of the lie. “I know I did.” He reached out, his rough hand cupping your small face, brushing away the tear that slipped down your cheek. “But this family? This life? It’s killing me. And I don’t want to end up broken like him.”
Your chest felt tight, like you couldn’t breathe. The room spun around you, and all you could focus on was the weight of the dagger in your lap, the one thing that felt real. You clutched it tighter, trying to ground yourself, trying to keep him here with you.
“But you’re a-all I hav-h-have,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “What am I supposed to do without y-you?”
Isaiah pulled you into a fierce hug, his arms wrapping around your small frame. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in the scent of him, trying to memorize it. “Oh, my sweet, sweet sister, you’re gonna be alright,” he whispered into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re stronger than you think. And one day, when the time comes, you’ll use that dagger. You’ll protect yourself.”
Your tears soaked into his shirt, heavy sobs shaking your entire body. You didn’t want him to leave. He was the only one who cared, the only one who made you feel like you were more than just a shadow in your father’s house.
“Promise me you’ll come back,” you whispered, your voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt. “Promise me.”
He pulled back, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I’ll come back for you, little Birdie,” he said, but there was something hollow in his voice. You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You better.”
He smiled then, a small, sad smile. His eyes looked down at an identical set that was looking up at him, and for a moment, it was just the two of you. Two siblings, bound together in a world that had been cruel to them both since their birth. You wanted to hold onto him forever, to keep him from slipping away, but deep down, you knew you couldn’t. He was too restless, too wild for the cage your father had built around you.
In the morning, his room was empty. His bed was cold. A deep voice boomed through the halls calling his name, and then—
You jolted awake, your breathing unheaven as the remnants of the dream clung to your mind like a fog refusing to lift. Your heart pounded loudly in your ears, and for a moment, you thought you could still feel your brother’s arms tight around you, hear his voice whispering sweet promises he’d never keep. You laid there, staring up at the canvas roof of your tent, blinking against the bright light of the morning sun that filtered through the holes in the fabric.
You sat up slowly, rubbing your tired eyes, trying to shake off the memories that had followed you out of sleep. But they lingered, like the heavy, humid air that surrounded you.
Your hand drifted beneath your makeshift pillow, where his dagger laid sheathed. The leather now worn and cracked with age. You reached out and ran your fingers over it, the familiar pattern in the hilt soothing you like one of Miss Constance’s lullabies. It was the only part of him you had left, the only piece of your old haunted life that still mattered.
Your brother had told you you’d need it one day.
He’d been right.
But as much as you liked to extract yourself from reality and go to the comfort of your memories there was no time to dwell on the past. The present had demands of its own. The sun was already high in the sky, and the dry heat of October had begun to seep into the air of West Elizabeth, even though summer should have been a distant memory by now. It was unusual for the weather to be so hot this time of year, but the West had always been unpredictable. Today was no different. The earth around you was baked and dry, the sparse yellow grass crackling under your boots, and the few trees that shielded your camp offered little cover from the relentless sun.
You sighed and pushed yourself up to your feet, dusting off your floor length red skirt, stretching the stiffness from your limbs. Your camp, hidden in the Great Plains just outside of town, was modest—a second hand tent, a few basic supplies scattered around the campfire and your horse hitched on a nearby tree. It wasn’t much, but it kept you out of sight and away from trouble. Most of the time, anyway.
You washed your face, water splashing away the last remains of sleep and made a mental note to soon refill your bucket. As you prepared your coffee, your thoughts drifted back to your brother, to that final night you’d spent together. You wondered what he’d think of you now. A wanted woman. An outlaw, just like him. Though you doubted he’d wanted that for you.
But choices have consequences and your consequences, for better or for worse, led you to this life.
Finishing your coffee you put out the small fire as best as you could. You approached your horse Willow—a beautiful Ardennes with strawberry roan you managed to steal away from home. She nickered softly as you approached and gave her a gentle pat on the neck before slipping the saddle onto her strong back. You had errands to run today, groceries to buy and supplies to collect. The trip into Blackwater made you uneasy every time, but it couldn’t be helped. You needed to eat, and there were only so many supplies you could steal without drawing attention to yourself. So far, you’d been careful. You’d kept your head low, using a fake name, and stayed out of sight.
But Blackwater was dangerous territory. Given that it was the second largest town in the untamed west, the law had eyes everywhere, and bounty hunters passed through the town circling like vultures over dead meat.
Your wanted posters had been plastered all over the North East American regions. The first months after the day that sealed your fate you found the paper manifesto in a town nearby where you grew up. The paper inked with some vague artist’s rendering of your face and beneath your portrait written in all capitals was your name with a 500$ reward for whoever caught you, preferably alive. The portrait didn’t resemble you enough to get you caught. Yet, you decided to completely flee the region, finding yourself wandering in the famous uncivilized west.
Mounting your horse you steered her out of the camp, the town of Blackwater looming in the distance. The ride into town was quiet, the road dusty and empty save for the occasional wagon passing in the distance. The heat was oppressive, the sun beating down on your head, making sweat bead on your forehead. By the time you reached the outskirts of town, your shirt clung to your skin, the dry dusty wind doing little to cool you off.
Blackwater was bustling with life by the time you arrived. The town had grown over the months you spent in the region, more folk moving in, more buildings popping up along the main street. Wagons creaked along the dirt roads, horses snorted, and people moved about their business with the kind of hurried energy that only came with trying to escape the midday heat. You kept your head low, as you guided your horse down the main street.
“Cornwall City Railway expanding ever more with rumors of the works coming to Blackwater. Come and read more Ladies and Gents!”
The newspaper seller shouted as you dismounted outside the general store and tied your horse to the nearest hitching post. Your eyes scanned the street for any signs of trouble, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary, just folks living their lives as usual. For a brief moment, you let yourself relax.
Inside the general store, the cool air offered a momentary relief from the unforgiving heat outside. You greeted the shopkeeper and moved through the aisles quickly, picking up fruits, canned good, coffee, and a few other essentials for camp. The shopkeeper, an older man with a long thick beard, barely looked at you as you placed the goods on the counter.
"That all?" he asked, his voice disinterested as he bagged your items. So much for customer service.
You nodded, sliding a few bills across the counter. He took them without a word, and you turned on your heel, leaving the store as quickly as you’d entered. The exchange was quick, with no questions, no lingering looks, you wondered if that was for the best. You stowed your items on Willow's back, gifting her an apple before resuming your chores.
Your next stop was the post office.
As you entered the wooden building you were met with a couple of empty benches, the wooden building almost empty save for the post office clerk and another man. The post office clerk, a tired-looking man with silver thinning hair, was shuffling through a stack of letters when you approached the counter.
“I’ve got a parcel,” you said, your voice calm and steady.
The post clerk barely looked up. “Name?” he asked, his fingers still rifling through the letters.
“Deliah Hill,” you replied. Your fake alias coming out of your lips like second nature. The man shuffled to the shelf behind him, after a few seconds he turned back.
“Nope, no letters or parcels under that name.”
You shifted on your feet. Biting the inside of your cheeks you pondered on your options. Could she have used your real name to send you your parcel?
You looked around, the post office was deserted enough. With a sigh, you asked the man to search under your real name. Years passed from the last time you used that name. The moment your name left your mouth, you felt a shift in the room. A chill ran down your spine despite the heat. The clerk’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he looked at you before going to retrieve your parcel. For a moment, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the pounding of your heart in your ears.
The post office clerk handed you the parcel. “Thank you,” you said, your voice steady despite the panic rising inside you.
You turned to exit the building and behind you, someone shifted—a man, leaning against the wall by the door. You could feel his eyes on you now, sharp and calculating. Recognition flickered across his expression, and a slow, dangerous smile curled at the corner of his lips.
Bounty hunter.
You kept your face neutral, your fingers twitching closer toward the dagger on your belt. Your steps were slow as you walked out of the post office, the weight of the man’s gaze heavy on your body. You could feel it, the way his eyes followed your every movement, like a predator stalking its prey. The moment the sun kissed your skin you wasted no time. You stalked down the street towards your horse when a man bumped into you making you almost lose balance.
“I’m so sorry, Sir” you quickly apologized. He stared down at you from under his tall hat with pensive eyes and a stretched smile under his thick mustache. He was dressed in a two piece black suit, definitely too warm for the weather. “Where wolves prowl, ravens follow.” he said and gave you a last glance before continuing his path. What a strange man.
You shook your head and mounted your horse, hands steady despite the adrenaline flooding your veins.
Don’t run. Act normal. Keep calm.
As you rode down the street, the hot air seemed to thicken with tension. Your heart raced in your chest as you prayed he wouldn’t follow you. Willow’s hooves kicked up dust as she made her way toward the edge of town, your mind racing with possibilities trying to form an escape plan and get back safely to camp. If you could make it to the woods, you’d have a chance to disappear and take a shortcut to camp. He wouldn’t follow you there. Not without backup.
But as the last building passed you by on the outskirts of Blackwater, all your hopes vanished. A shout boomed in the air.
“Hey you! Stop right there!”
Your pulse spiked, and you kicked your horse into a gallop, dirt flying up behind you as the sound of hoofbeats thundered from behind. You didn’t need to look back to know what was happening. The hunter had been waiting for you.
Judging by the sounds of hooves on the dirt there were three, maybe four of them. Their shouts grew louder as they gave chase. You risked a glance over your shoulder, your heart pounding harder as your eyes spotted them—three middle aged men with rifles strapped across their backs and pistols in their hands, their eyes hungry with the promise of a reward.
One of them fired a shot, the crack of the gun slicing through the air. The bullet whizzed so close you could feel the heat of it landed on your side. You cursed under your breath and leaned low over your horse, urging it to go faster.
The woods weren’t far now, but the hunters were closing in, their shouts carrying over the wind like hyenas laughing at their prey.
They weren’t going to stop. Not until they had what they wanted, and that unfortunately was you.
The air seemed to shimmer with heat, dust kicking up in a haze covering the surrounding area as your horse rode across the dry, cracked earth. The world around you blurred, but your mind was sharp, every instinct screaming at you to ride faster, to outrun them. Your heart hammered in your chest, its pulse loud in your ears.
“Come on, lady,” you whispered to your horse, digging your heels into her sides as you urged the animal to go faster, gaining back a strained neigh from Willow. The woods were close now, the trees loomed ahead like a dark sanctuary, the thick branches of the trees casting long shadows over the dusty trail. If you could make it there, you could lose them. You could be free.
But the bounty hunters were relentless.
You looked back at them once more. A man with a scar running down his cheek, leveled his rifle and aimed. The sharp crack of his gunshot echoed in the air. You turned to look ahead of you, squeezing the reigns in your hand in anticipation, and then you felt it—a jolt beneath you as your horse staggered.
“No!” you screamed, your heart plummeting.
Willow let out a terrible, guttural cry, her body lurching forward as her legs buckled for a moment. Blood spurted from her side where the bullet had hit, staining her coat. But she regained control and kept running, her strong legs carrying forward, even as the wound drained the life from her with every step she took. You felt tears sting your eyes as you urged your horse onward, knowing the animal was running on sheer survival instinct alone.
“Ardennes are war horses, they might not run like Arabians but they’re strong,” Mister Anderson, your riding instructor once told you.
“Can you teach me how to ride one?” You were met with a bitter laugh, one you were far too accustomed to. He wasn’t laughing with you, but at you. You knew that it was near impossible for a thirteen years old girl to control such an animal but there was no harm in trying. You felt anger bubbling up in your body as you eyed your father’s Ardennes.
“Just a little more,” You whispered, your voice strained with desperation. “Just a little more then we’re safe.”
The woods closed in around you, the thick trees swallowing you whole as you crossed into the shade. The bounty hunters' shouts grew more distant, their voices muffled by the forest, but you knew they wouldn’t stop. Not yet. You could still hear them faintly, calling out your name, their taunts carrying through the trees like a ghostly echo.
“Come on out, girl! We’ll make it quick if you give up now!”
“You can’t run forever!” another voice shouted.
But you weren’t listening anymore. Your mind was solely focused on your horse, your only friend, who had carried you through so much, and who had never once let you down. The mare’s breathing was ragged now, each step slower, more labored than the last. Blood dripped hot from her side, staining the dry grass beneath you, second after second you could feel the horse’s strength fading.
The horse collapsed to her knees, unable to carry on. She let out a weak, broken cry as her legs gave out beneath her, sending you tumbling from your saddle into the dirt. You quickly scrambled to your feet, your breath catching in your throat as you rushed to her side.
“Willow! No, no!” you shouted, kneeling beside the mare, your hands trembling as you reached for the horse’s injury. Your hands stained with blood in mere seconds. The animal was breathing heavily, her eyes wide with pain and fear, her chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. Blood pooled around you both, thick and dark covering the woods’ floor.
You ran a hand over the horse’s coat, your fingers brushing through the mane as tears blurred your vision. “I’m sorry,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”
Willow let out a soft, almost pitiful sound, her head resting heavily in the grass. The horse’s body shuddered, life slowly draining from her eyes, but even now, she was trying to stay strong. It was like she didn’t want to leave you. Like she didn’t want to fail you.
Everything stilled, it was as if you were trapped in a bubble. You didn’t know, or care, where the bounty hunters were, but they were still out there, combing the woods for you. You could hear their voices, faint and taunting, calling your name but none of that mattered in that moment. All you could see was your horse, your loyal friend, dying in your arms. Another life lost because of you.
You pressed your forehead against Willow’s, your tears falling onto her soft, velvety nose. The pain in your chest was overwhelming, a grief so deep it felt like it might burn you from the inside. This horse had been with you through everything—through your escape from the hell that was your home, through lonely nights when you had no one else. And now you were losing her. You were losing the one good thing you had left.
“I’m so sorry,” you whispered again, your voice shaking. It was the only thing you could think of. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
You pressed a trembling kiss to the mare’s forehead. A last goodbye. “You were brave, girl. You can rest now.”
The horse’s breathing slowed, and as if following your command her body shuddered one last time before she went still. You could feel the life leave her body.
For a long moment, you stayed there, your hands resting on the horse’s neck, caressing her, as if your actions would ease her soul. You wanted to scream, to rage against the world, but there was no time. You snapped back to reality as the voices of the bounty hunters were getting closer now.
You forced yourself to stand, wiping your tear-streaked face with the back of your hand. Your heart ached, but you couldn’t stay. Not if you wanted to survive. The bounty hunters would be here soon, and they’d show no mercy. You had to run.
With one last, heartbroken glance at your horse, you turned and sprinted deeper into the woods, your legs carrying as fast as they could. Your boots thudded against the soft earth, your breathing ragged and uneven as you darted between the trees, your mind racing.
The forest was dense. Branches whipped at your face as you ran, one in particular caught on your skirt, tearing the fabric to your knees. You fell, knees burning from the scratch. Your lungs burned with each breath, but you couldn’t stop. You had to keep going.
Then, through the trees, almost as an apparition you saw it—an old, crumbled wooden cabin, barely visible through the thick underbrush. The wood was weathered and covered in vines, the roof sagging in places, and one of the walls had partially collapsed, leaving a hole covered by some planks big enough to enter in the side of the building. It looked abandoned, forgotten by time. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A place to hide. A place to catch your breath.
Without hesitation, you sprinted toward the cabin, using all the energy left in your body. You could still hear the bounty hunters behind you.
The planks on the side creaked loudly as you pushed them to open the hole, the wood groaning under your weight. Inside, the air was thick with dust and the smell of mold, the floorboards creaking beneath your boots. Cobwebs covered almost every corner of the room, and broken furniture was scattered across the room, but it didn’t matter. You weren't looking for comfort—you were looking for survival.
You put the planks in place and crouched low behind an overturned table near the back of the cabin, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you tried to quiet your racing heart. Your hand rested on the grip of your dagger, your knuckles white. You knew it was nothing against their rifles but at least if they found you, you wouldn’t go down without a fight.
For now, all you could do was wait with your heart heavy with the loss of your horse and your mind focused on staying alive.
The footsteps of the hunters grew louder outside, their voices drawing nearer. You held your breath, your body tense as you listened, praying they wouldn’t find you here.
This cabin was your last chance.
Your pulse pounded in your ears, louder than the whispers of the men searching for you. Then, beneath the irregular sound of your own heartbeat, you felt something else—something sharp and burning.
Your hand drifted to your side, fingers pressing under your ribs. Warm, sticky blood coated your palm. Panic flared in your chest as you realized—one of those bullets they fired didn’t scrape you but had actually hit you. You hadn’t felt it before, the adrenaline masking the pain and pushing you forward. But now as the effect started to die down, pain took its place. A shot, not deep, but dangerous enough. You gritted your teeth, wiping the blood on your torn gown, willing yourself to stay conscious, to stay alert.
You needed to figure out what to do next—escape, hide, something. But then, the cold sensation of the barrel of a gun made contact with the back of your head. You closed your eyes for a second before turning to face your fate.
Fate took the form of a man, no older than twenty-six, lean but muscular, his long dark brown hair falling messily over his sharp features covered by a faint beard. His piercing gaze was cold, focused. You could sense he carried himself with the confidence of someone used to the dangerous weight of a gun in his hand. And there it was—pointed right at you. You looked up at him from your kneeled position, completely at his mercy.
From the shadows, next to the man, another figure stepped forward. The second man was much older, his weathered face marked by lines of age and experience. His silver hair combed back. His eyes, though, were sharp with curiosity as he took in your state. His eyes seemed to look into your soul and that terrified you more than the gun pointed at your head.
You could feel both their eyes on you—taking in the tear-streaked dirt on your cheeks, your disheveled hair, the blood staining your skirt tored from the knees down. But more than anything, their gazes linger on the dagger clenched tightly in your hand, its intricate hilt glinting in the dim light filtering from the cracks of the cabin. Your brother’s dagger.
“Don’t move,” the younger man said, his voice cold and steady, the barrel of his gun unwavering as he clicked its safety off.
Your breath hitched, and without thinking, you raised the dagger in your hand, pointing it toward him in a futile attempt at defense. Not really a wise choice since he had a gun pointed directly at your head, but you were cornered, wounded, and outnumbered. Most of all you were tired.
The older man—his voice smoother, almost soothing—spoke next. “Easy now, no need for more bloodshed.” He stepped closer to the younger man, placing a hand on his arm. “John, calm down.”
John. The name floated in the air as your grip tightened on the dagger, your eyes flicking between the two men. The tension was thick, your body tense, ready to lash out or flee, but the older man kept his gaze on you, caging any movement. His eyes calculating but not unkind.
Outside, you could hear the voice of the bounty hunters calling for you.
“Come on out now! It’ll be easier if you don’t make us drag you out!”
“Miss,” he says softly, eyeing your trembling hand, gripping the dagger like a lifeline. “You're hurt. And from the sound of it, those fellas outside ain't exactly your friends.”
John’s grip on his gun tightened, his eyes flicking toward the door before settling back on you looking you up and down. His gaze piercing. “We can’t trust her, Hosea,” he mutters under his breath. “She could be one of them.”
Hosea didn’t look away from you, though he rolled his eyes at the younger man's sentence. “Does she look like one of them to you?” he asks, his tone calm but with an edge of irritation. His eyes swept over you again, the blood, the tear-streaked face, the bleeding wound on your side. “She’s in no shape to be hunting anyone.”
You have no idea who these men were, but something about the older one’s voice was reassuring, like hot milk and honey on a cold night. But the younger one—John—you couldn’t say the same, his distrust was palpable. Your instinct told you to run, to hide, but the growing footsteps outside told you otherwise. You were trapped.
“You gonna fight off all those men out there with a knife?” Hosea asked, raising an eyebrow. “Or would you rather come with us?” At his proposition the younger man lowered his gun in disbelief, eyeing the older man with fury.
You swallowed hard, feeling the blood drip from your side, the sharp sting of your wound biting deeper making your thoughts hazy. You’ve always been alone, fending for yourself, trusting no one. But here, now it wasn’t a choice between trust or caution. It was life or death.
“I—” you started, but the sound of boots crunching outside the cabin silenced you.
You felt your heart almost beating out your chest. Run or fight? Die here cornered like an animal or continue to fight. Who were these two strangers, could you even trust these men? Why were they willing to help a wanted woman? Your mind struggled to come up with an explanation and under the exhaustion you gave in.
“I’ll come with you,” you muttered, lowering the dagger, your fingers numb from the tight grip you’d held onto it with.
John scoffed. “You sure about this, Hosea?”
Hosea nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, I think she’ll be more use to us alive than dead.” He outstretched a hand towards you, helping you up on your feet. “Let’s go, before those boys outside kick the door down.”
Without another word, Hosea moved toward the side of the cabin, looking outside before gesturing for you to follow. John, still glaring at you, holstered his gun but kept one hand hovering near his hip, ready to draw at any sign of trouble from you.
You slipped out, moving quickly and quietly through the dense underbrush. Your side burning with every step, and the world seems to tilt dangerously, your vision blurring as you stumbled after them. The sounds of the bounty hunters behind you fade as you made your way deeper into the forest, but your legs started to grow weaker, your strength fading with every drop of blood you lost.
Hosea led the way, his steps sure and practiced, while John brought up the rear, gun ready in his hand and eyes darting around as if he expected an ambush at any moment. They moved fast, and you could barely keep up. Your head spun, your breathing labored as the last remains of adrenaline slowly ebbed away, leaving only the raw, gnawing pain storming in your body.
“I’m not your enemy,” you hissed through gritted teeth, as you felt John’s eyes studying you. The effort of speaking sent a sharp, stabbing pain through your side.
“But you sure as hell ain’t acting like a friend either.” He replied, his tone harsh. He took a step closer, his gun never leaving his hand. “And from where I’m standing, you’re more trouble to us than you’re worth.”
Your blood boiled at his words, and despite the dizziness creeping in around the edges of your vision, you lifted your chin, his height making you glare up at him “You don’t know a damn thing about me,” you spat, your voice shaking with the weight of your fury and exhaustion. “If I was trouble, you’d already be dead.”
John’s lips curl into a smirk, but there’s no warmth in it. “Is that so? You’re half-dead on your feet, bleeding all over the place, and you think you’re in any shape to make threats?”
“I can handle myself.”
“Yeah? Doesn’t look like it.”
The sound of Hosea’s voice urging you two to move along snapped you out of your staring contest with the man.
After some more walking you reached a small clearing, in the distance you could see two horses tethered to a tree, a large black morgan snorting impatiently and a silver turkoman with various pelts on his back. You stopped in front of the horses, the memory of Willow’s death fresh and painful making you still. John stopped at your side, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you.
“You’ll have to ride with me.” He urged, the words clipped. Your eyes locked with his gray ones briefly before looking back at his horse. Though for a moment you hesitated, you clumsily climbed on the saddle, the sharp pain in your side restricting your movements. He climbed behind you, his arms circling your waist to keep you from falling off. You heard a clicking noise behind your ear and the horse started to move. The world blurred as your vision wavered, your fingers gripping tightly on John’s forearm muscles as exhaustion threatened to consume you. You could hear Hosea saying something, his voice distant and far away.
“Hold on tight, or you’ll fall off.” John’s gruff voice cut through the haze.
You wanted to snap back at him, but you couldn’t respond. Your strength long gone. You pressed your back against John’s chest. The pain in your side too intense, the blood loss catching up to you. Your grip slackens on his arms making him let out a curse.
And then, darkness took over you.
───── •✧✧• ─────
Consciousness returned slowly, like the gentle light of the sun after the rain. You blinked against the light coming mostly likely from an oil lantern, your vision a hazy blur of shapes and colors. As you tried to focus, you became aware of three figures looming over you, their faces shifting in and out of clarity. Panic fluttered in your chest for a moment as you struggled to push yourself up, your body heavy, the pain in your side reminding you of what happened previously. The last thing you remembered was John’s arms tightening around you and his low voice saying something in your ear.
One of the figures stepped closer, the soft glow of the lamp in the other man’s hand illuminating his features. It was an older man with a ginger mustache and hollow eyes, a look of concern etched deep into the lines of his face. There’s something kind about the way he looked at you.
“Easy there, Miss,” he murmured. “You’re safe now. Just relax.”
The other two figures remained just beyond your sight, their silhouettes casting long shadows across the room. One came beside the ginger man, a tall woman with a stern face, her arched brow furrowed in concentration as she spoke to the man. “—got to make sure it doesn’t get infected,” the woman said, her voice crisp and commanding. “If we don’t stitch her upright, we could lose her.”
As you laid there, struggling to grasp the situation, a wave of warmth washed over you, followed by a sharp sting in your side. You flinched involuntarily, the sensation jolting through you like lightning. That’s when the man with the mustache spoke to the woman beside him “Give something to this poor soul!” he exclaimed, and the other two turned their attention toward you, eyes widening as they saw your pained expression
“Stay still,” the woman commanded, her hands deftly working as she threaded the needle through your skin. “You need to let us do our job, Miss.”
The sharpness of the needle pierced you again, and a low groan escaped your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut, fighting against the pain. “W-what are you doing?” you gasped, panic rising again as the burning sensation spread across your side. Who were these people?
“Just sewing you up,” the man replied, trying to sound comforting, but his eyes held a glint of urgency. “It’s going to hurt a bit. Just keep breathing.”
The third figure, the man with the lamp in hand, stepped back, circling around the woman to give her more light, allowing you a clearer view. His face was familiar—Hosea. You remembered him from the cabin, the kindness in his eyes when he had convinced you to trust him and follow him and John. He watched you intently, a mixture of worry and sympathy written on his face.
“Hang in there,” Hosea said softly, his voice grounding you as the woman continued her work. “You’re going to be alright.”
You felt a rush of warmth and comfort at the sound of his voice, the sensation short lived and quickly replaced by the sharp stab of the needle as it pierced your skin once more. You winced, tears springing to your eyes, and the woman frowned.
With each stitch, the burning intensified, the pain nearly overwhelming. Your screams were agonizing and you tried to thrash against the cot beneath you, but a strange sense of exhaustion settled over you. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realized you needed to focus on something, anything else. You thought of your brother—his laughter, the way he always made you feel safe, the last memory you had of him giving you that dagger, his last gift of love and protection.
“Don’t close your eyes, stay with us,” Hosea urged, as if sensing your thoughts drifting. The woman pressed a bottle into your hand. “Here, drink this. It’ll help with the pain,” she instructed. You blindly gulped down the liquid realizing after a few seconds that it was whiskey. The liquid sharp and burning as it travelled down your throat, making you cough slightly. Soon you felt its effects dulling your senses, a warm haze began to envelop you. “I can’t—” you started, but another wave of pain crashed over you, and you could feel your eyes fluttering, the world around you dimming again.
“Stay awake,” Hosea said, his voice soothing and steady. “You’re safe. Just breathe.”
You tried to focus on his words, tried to keep your eyes open, but sleep spread through you. The voices around you faded, the edges of your vision darkened, but not before you caught a glimpse of one last figure—the younger man, John—stood in the corner of the room, his expression unreadable.
He looked different now, less like a threat and more like someone who understood your pain. But as you slipped back into the void, your last thoughts were of your brother, his smile and the warmth of his embrace.
And then, with a final flicker of awareness, you drowned into the darkness, your mind drifting away on a sea of memories.
———————————————
taglist: @laylasredemption @starlightt180 @photo1030 @oceanwaves1998
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cxrdycxps · 6 months ago
Text
Work Song • Joel Miller
No grave can hold me down, I’ll crawl home to her.
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☢️ Canon typical violence • smut, unprotected p in v • angst • soft Joel (it needs a warning) • what might be classed as Tommy and Maria bashing • AFAB Reader ☢️
Main Masterlist • Joel Miller Masterlist
Stop. Breathe. Think.
There had to be a way out. There had to be something he hadn’t thought of. Muffled noise was hard to focus on when his heartbeat was louder. He could feel the pulsing pain in his side, his ribs were broken. His guns and his backpack were gone.
Stop. Breathe. Think.
Eugene shared a glance with Shane as they approached the gates of Jackson. There would be word spreading soon. Only two riders returned.
They hesitated in the tree line, waited with bated breath. Once they passed this line they would have to explain. Would have to find a way to break the news.
“We don’t know there’s anything wrong. He might have beaten us back here.” Shane told Eugene. Eugene nodded slightly but they both knew they were kidding themselves.
Joel would never leave a man behind. He would wait all night at an outpost and definitely wouldn’t head back to Jackson without a husband and a father.
“He wouldn’t have wanted us to wait. We know the rules.” Eugene sighed and Shane nodded shortly before he nudged his horse out of the tree line.
“Riders!” The tower patrol called and the gates were opened slowly as Eugene and Shane approached.
Jesse paused at the sight of only two returning patrol men and stared at them as they passed. Both men rode in with their heads down, avoiding the stare of everyone.
Maria stood at the stable talking patrol routes with a group of men due to head out for a long patrol in the next week.
She looked up when the surrounding area fell quiet and put a hand out to steady herself against the sudden dropping of her stomach when Eugene and Shane approached on horseback.
Without Joel.
“Where is he?”
Stop. Breathe. Think.
Joel clenched his jaw and tensed his whole body, readying himself for the impact. There was a burst of pain, bright light behind his eyes. But he didn’t make a noise.
Stop. Breathe. Think.
“Why do I need to know this?” Ellie sighed, her head leaning on her hand. You looked up from the pot you were stirring and found her chewing on the end of her pencil.
“Because a basic knowledge of biology will help in life. Do you know how many people probably wished they hadn’t slept through their bio classes in high school?” You asked her and she sighed heavily, letting her head fall on her notebook.
You only rolled your eyes as you pulled plates down out of the cabinet, eyes on the clock over the window. Joel would be home soon hopefully.
“Set the table?” You asked Ellie and she scrambled to comply, shoving her books into her book bag in an effort to get out of doing her homework in any way possible. “When Joel gets back he’ll help you finish up.”
She laughed and shook her head as she set out the cutlery how Joel had thought her. He still clung to the strangest of Southern traditions. One of the most obvious was his table manners which he was trying in vain to pass on to Ellie.
“Cause he’s gonna know it. Joel’s a high school drop out.” Ellie reminded you and you laughed.
“Joel dropped out of high school to be a dad. Not because he wasn’t smart.” You reminded her while you ruffled her hair when she got close enough, you laughed again when she grumbled about it.
“What’s your excuse?” She huffed, setting three glasses down and filling two with water, a finger of whiskey in the third.
“Gee Els, I don’t know? The end of the world, maybe.” You laughed with her and covered the simmering pot. “Go check the stables and see will they be much longer.”
You all preferred to eat dinner together most evenings. Sometimes home cooked, sometimes at the diner. But eating together was something you had always done with your family and you liked that they did their best to uphold that for you.
Ellie huffed and moved to pull on her converse, sitting on the bench by the front door. A bench Joel built specifically so she would sit down to put her shoes on instead of hopping around and knocking her head on the wall.
A knock sounded at the door just as she had tied the laces on her shoes and you leaned from your place at the sink to look down as she answered the door. Tommy appeared, his hat pressed against his chest and his mouth down turned.
Stop. Breathe. Think.
Joel was alone in the room. Maybe not a room but a shed or barn. There was a lot of creaking going on. The ground underneath him felt like bare concrete but he thought he could hear the rustle of hay when he moved.
Panic was biting at him as he took stock of his injuries. He had been left in a stress position which was murder on his already bad knees. His ribs were on fire, each breath like a brand to his lungs.
His hands were bound to something above his head. Something sturdy enough to hold his weight but it groaned when he pulled. A pipe maybe.
His stomach growled again and he sighed. It had only been a few hours. Regular eating in Jackson had stolen his edge and now he found himself hungry and tired.
He took a deep breath, ignoring the protest from his ribs and pulled, putting all his weight on whatever he was bound to. There was harsh groaning and then a screech.
And then he dropped, no longer suspended.
Stop. Breathe. Think.
You stared at Tommy as he stepped into the hallway past a frozen Ellie. You knew that look. You had seen him do it only once, having to tell Denise that her husband had passed away in the clinic.
A heart attack. That’s what they thought happened. You wondered if this is what it felt like. The pressure building in your chest, your breath catching, frozen stock still.
“He isn’t.” Ellie breathed, moving from the doorway to you. She wasn’t looking at Tommy, hand reached out for you. “It’s Joel. He isn’t. He can’t be.”
“He missed the meet point.” Tommy said with a wince and your eyes narrowed as part of you relaxed just slightly.
“It was a three man patrol.” You pulled Ellie closer by the hand she had reached for you with. You needed to keep her close, keep her safe. “There isn’t a meet point on a three man patrol.”
“Eugene and Jason-“
“You mean to tell me that my husband is missing because those two fucking stoners had to check their grow house?” You asked Tommy, voice low. “Because you know Joel wouldn’t fucking suggest splitting up. You fucking know that!”
“Now look, I’m just the messenger.” Tommy started and you clenched your jaw. “I’m just as mad as you about it and Maria-“
“Oh for fuck sake Tommy. When are you gonna grow a fucking pair and stop hiding in the shadows?” You snapped, a hand running through your hair. “Fucking letting Joel take the fall half your life and now Maria? You ever gonna stand on your own two feet?”
“Now hold on a second-“
“No, you hold on. You heard that those two fucking clowns didn’t wait for Joel and you left them standing? Joel might be dead so that Eugene could check on his fucking weed.” You tell Tommy as he stepped closer in anger. You met him half way, a finger pointed into his chest. “You better fucking hope he’s okay or I’ll make what both of you used to do look like child’s play.”
Stop. Breathe. Think.
Joel paused in place to see if the sound had alerted any one. His hands are still bound and the circulation returning to his legs caused a rush of pins and needles so strong he dropped to his knees.
He needs to get out. He needs to get home. Home to you and Ellie.
There’s no noise that Joel can detect when he raises his bound hands to push the blindfold off his face. The darkness blinds him a second time, his eyes slowly adjusting to his surroundings.
It’s a barn. Wide and barren, hasn’t been used in decades from the looks of things. There’s not much in way of weapons but there is a rusty scythe hanging on the wall. It looks dull but after a few minutes Joel gets his bindings cut and his hands free.
The pipe he had been detained to comes free with a yank and he swings it, testing the weight. It’s not much but it’ll do if he keeps the element of surprise on his side.
A quick turn over of the barn shows nothing else of importance and so he heads for the hayloft, trying to see if he can get a glance of his surroundings.
His arms ache as he climbs and his ribs are still on fire but he pulls himself up, rung by rung, until he’s able to drag himself to the top. He tried not to breathe heavily, leaning on his hands and knees so as not to hurt his ribs further.
There’s an old dilapidated farm house a couple hundred meters from the barn. There’s smoke coming from the chimney though which means whoever stole his pack is probably in there. He grips the metal pipe tighter in his hand and breathes slowly.
Just one more push. It’s always just one more push.
Joel heads for the ladder and finds climbing down is harder on his ribs than climbing up. He attempts to hurry it which results in him losing his footing and falling a couple of rungs, hitting the ground hard with a sickening crunch. Joel fights the urge to vomit, white hot pain bursting through his body.
Stop. Breathe. Think.
“Now I don’t think this is gonna help-“ Tommy yelled after you as you headed for the Tipsy Bison. Sure as anything you’d find Eugene and Shane at the bar.
For their sake they’d better have changed up their routine.
Ellie followed along side you, her face closed off, her eyes burning with anger. You still held the hand she had outstretched to you in the house. Both of you gripping tightly.
You swung the diner door open and traced your eyes across the occupants and sure as the sky was blue you found Eugene and Shane in the corner of the bar.
You ignored Tommy calling your name and finally released Ellie’s hand, making a beeline for both men who had their heads hung over their drinks. When Tommy called your name they looked up and Eugene stood from his stool.
In his defense he did look sorry. Until your hand cracked against his face. Then he just looked shocked. “You better fucking hope he gets home.”
“We waited for him.” Eugene tried to explain but you only shook your head at him, pointing a finger over his shoulder at Shane.
“You’re just fucking lucky he’s in my way.” You warned, sending Ellie pressing close behind you. “Where did you split up?”
“It was west of here, about three quarters the way through the route. Just after the last post.” Eugene explained and your hand cracked out again. He caught your wrist this time, squeezing roughly. “I let you away with one.”
“You split up with him so you could check your fucking grow house?” You spit at him, attempting to pull your wrist free. “You’re that fucking desperate you couldn’t wait another day till the group patrol headed out?”
“He was fine with it.” Shane attempted to argue. Almost silently Ellie slipped an arm in front of you, the tip of her knife pressed against Eugene’s zipper.
“Let her go or lose your fucking dick.” Ellie warned, voice cold. “And from what I can tell that’s your entire personality.”
Eugene released your wrist which you cradled to your chest, your free hand on Ellie’s shoulder. “Cmon Els, while we still have daylight.”
Stop. Breathe. Think.
Joel grunted, his arm cradled to his chest. His right arm. All he had was a metal pipe and he didn’t even have both hands to swing it.
His ribs, if possible, hurt worse. Every slight inhalation had him fighting back screams. The pain in his wrist made him want to vomit and he wondered what the fuck he was gonna do.
He didn’t have much time. He knew that. They would be back to check on him again in no time and he had to have a plan or he wouldn’t be going anywhere.
Voices.
He froze in place, the panic overwhelming him, they were coming from the farm house. Coming for him. He was going to die in this stupid barn if he didn’t think quickly.
The closer the voices drew the worse the panic gripped him. He stepped back into the shadows, his ragged breathing lighting his ribs on fire.
The door opened, the dark sky on his side as two men stepped into the room. They were too busy talking, a lantern held in one of their hands, too low to notice Joel wasn’t where he was supposed to be.
He swung out between the men, enough strength that the first dropped like a rag doll whose stings had been cut. The second had enough time to dodge, taking a bang to the ribs which made him hiss.
Joel swung again at him but he ducked, his hand freeing the gun on his hip. Joel dove at him, panic pumping adrenaline through his blood.
All he could hear was his breathing and the rhythmic pump of his blood.
He swung the pipe, slamming it down on the head of the man and watching his skull collapse with the force.
Joel didn’t hear the shot. He didn’t even feel the bullet make impact. What he did feel was the warmth of the blood on his trousers. The fabric sticking to his skin uncomfortably and then the burst of pain when he stepped forward, his leg buckling out from underneath him.
Stop. Breathe. Think.
“Pack both first aid kits and a vial of penicillin. Enough food for three days and bring me your gun.” Ellie’s feet pounded on the stairs as she climbed them swiftly. You weren’t far behind her, pulling your rifle from under the stairs and setting it on the table.
You checked it over, knowing it was fine as Joel had cleaned it the night before for you when he was doing his own. You grabbed a box of ammo and left it beside your gun. Ellie appeared by your side, setting her own pistol down before taking off again.
You went through the same checks, loading it for her and leaving her a box of ammo to pack for the journey too.
You left them both there and hurried up the stairs pulling your backpack out of the closet and filling it quickly with anything you thought you might need.
A quiet call of your name made you pause, inhaling deeply. You knew why she was here. What she would say but you wouldn’t be deterred. Not when he could be in danger.
Stop. Breathe. Think.
Through and through. The bullet had come out as it had gone in and Joel thanked god for small mercies. His whole body was on fire, the bullet wound in his thigh, his broken ribs and his shattered wrist were all throbbing in tandem.
He had a pistol now and a knife. It wasn’t much but it was something. He staggered his way to the farm house and took a minute to walk the outside of the house, ensuring he couldn’t hear anyone else.
His backpack was just inside the door but his rifle was nowhere to be seen. The farm house was just as dilapidated inside as it looked from the outside. It seemed everything had been lost to the elements besides the living room.
Joel stepped towards the fire, dragging his bad leg behind him. He could hear heavy breathing and wondered if it was his own before someone groaned and shifted on the sofa facing the fire.
Joel lifted the gun in his hand, his left arm shaking. He stepped slowly towards the sofa. The man sleeping only had time to open his eyes before Joel cracked the but of the gun down on his head.
When the man came through Joel had managed to tie him to a chair and was reasonably certain he wouldn’t get out of it. He had taken the time to wrap his leg with the first aid kit from his backpack.
A quick raid of the house offered Joel what he thought might have been painkillers. Three white pills in a bottle. He took his chances and swallowed one down with a shot of whiskey from another of the men’s backpacks. No water to be found.
A small groan alerted him that his new friend was waking up just as Joel managed to splint his wrist and construct a sling for support.
They stared at each other for a second and Joel waited patiently, dropping onto the sofa with a grunt of pain.
“Where’s the others?” His voice was quiet, timid.
“Which one are you?” Joel asked in return, looking him over as he struggled against the bindings.
“What do you mean?” He asked.
“Well, you’re either Billy or Tyson. Cause I know which one Mark is.” Joel told him and he winced. In truth Joel knew this was Tyson, he just wanted to leave the man with hope he hadn’t found Billyyet.
“We didn’t mean any harm, man.” Tyson muttered and Joel narrowed his eyes, tilting his head. “We just needed the supplies.
“So you beat the fuck out of me because it what? Felt nice for me? Toughened me up a little?” Joel asked, leaning forward and ignoring how his body protested. “Here’s what I’m gonna do Ty, can I call you Ty?”
“No-“
“I’m gonna ask a couple of questions and you’re going to answer them. It’s pretty easy, Ty. I got people I gotta get back to, you know?” Joel asked. Tyson spat at his feet.
Joel shot forward, ignoring the pain and stuck his knife into Tyson’s thigh, right where his own wound was.
Tyson screamed as Joel pulled the knife free, wiping it on his jeans and taking his seat again while the man yelled and bucked against the chair.
“Now. Let’s start again. How many of you are there, Tyson?”
“Four.” Joel’s goddamn bum ear let him down again. A gun loaded behind him. His rifle, he could hear it now he was actively listening. “Something you should’ve checked before you killed two of our brothers.”
Joel sighed heavily and inhaled. He stared at Tyson, counting the seconds. Tyson was sobbing now, either from the physical pain or the emotional pain. Joel didn’t know and didn’t care.
The rifle pressed against his neck and he swallowed again.
“Ben, I take it?” Joel asked, reaching up over his shoulder quickly and pulling the rifle forward. Ben jerked the trigger by accident and Joel yelled at the noise in his ear but he didn’t give up, pulling sharply again and knocking Ben off course.
Joel only has time to duck, his rifle in his arm before he scrambled from the couch and swung the rifle strap over his shoulder. He made sure to keep the sofa between then as he grabbed the gun in his waist band.
When he looked up Ben was frozen, staring over Joel’s shoulder. Joel chanced a quick look back and watched Tyson as he gasped for breath, the blood on his chest spreading, soaking through his t-shirt.
Ben had shot Tyson.
Joel didn’t hesitate, he lifted the gun and shot once at Ben and a second time at Tyson. Putting them both out of their misery.
He collapsed back onto the sofa, ears ringing and body burning. When the adrenaline fled his system he was shaking. One small touch against his leg let him know he needed to start worrying about blood loss.
Stop. Breathe. Think.
With his face tucked in your neck he couldn’t see your expression but he didn’t need to. He knew how you’d look, jaw hanging down, eyes rolled back in your head as you moaned quietly in his ear.
He continued the slow grind of his hips, pushing deeper with every slide of his body against yours. He made sure that each press abused your already swollen clit. He could still taste you on his lips, smell you on his beard.
He groaned again, sponging kisses to your neck before exposing his teeth to nibble against your skin. “Feel so fucking good.”
Your fingers were tangled in his hair, clenching tighter with every minute that passed. You were boneless, two orgasms deep and a third building slowly. “All yours.”
“Damn fucking right.” He groaned, hot breath against your neck causing you to shiver. “My pretty baby and her sweet fucking cunt.”
“Joel.” You whimpered, nails scratching against his scalp. “Make me come.”
“You’re in charge.” Joel groaned, pulling back so he could slam into you in earnest. “Anything for you.”
“Anything?” You ask, moaning loudly.
“You want it, I’ll make sure you get it, baby.” Joel told you through gritted teeth as he pushed into your tight, wet heat again and again.
“What if I asked you to burn Jackson down?” You asked teasingly and he rolled his eyes, bring his hand up to your mouth, presenting you with two fingers.
“If it was something you needed then baby, I’d burn the fucking world down. I’d kill every person in my fucking way to getting you want you need.” He told you earnestly as you sucked on his fingers.
He pulled them from your mouth and brought them down to rub against your clit, rendering you speechless as your orgasm hit you.
A few minutes later you lay across his chest as you both attempted to catch your breath. Joel’s fingers traced patterns up and down the line of your spine. You were tracing the same patterns into his chest hair.
“Burn the world, huh? Sounds dangerous.” You teased. Joel smiled, huffing a small laugh that made you bounce against his chest. “What if you get hurt doing it? What if you die? I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Baby, if you think there’s a grave that could keep me from you then you’re crazy. I’ll always come home, crawlin’ on my hands and knees if I’ve gotta.”
Stop. Stop. Stop.
Joel can’t move. His whole body is one big starburst of pain. He knows he needs to get moving, knows that he doesn’t have long. There could be more of the group and they could be back any second.
But he can’t move.
His head is spinning and he knows he lost too much blood. The spinning is compounded by the fact that breathing is a nightmare. He doesn’t know where he is or how to get back to Jackson.
He rolls off the sofa, landing on his knees which jolts just about every injury he has. He barely catches himself on his good hand and vomits up every thing in his system from the pain.
He uses the sofa for leverage to push himself up off his knees. He staggers slightly, catching himself in enough time that he doesn’t careen into Tyson’s body, still tied to the chair.
He grunts as he moves, his leg dragging behind him. Each step is torture, a life time of bad karma catching up with him.
He checks over Ben but doesn’t find anything besides another knife. He leaves it where it is and hobbles out the door Ben left open behind him.
Joel doesn’t expect much but the sight of his horse is enough to almost bring a tear to his eye. No crawling needed this time.
Stop. Stop. Stop.
“What do you mean you aren’t sending a search party?” You ask Maria. She stands at your kitchen table and refuses to meet your eyes. She had sat at this very table just last week for your birthday dinner. She had laughed and joked with your husband while he held her little girl in his arms.
“We aren’t ready. A route needs to be planned, quadrants divided among patrol men. Marching out without a plan will lose men.” She warned, slipping into her role as a council member, not a sister in law.
“Do you think he’d hesitate? Do you think he’d wait for routes and quadrants if it were anyone else out there? He wouldn’t have even come back without Eugene or Shane. Those cowards-“
“Followed the rules. Something Joel has never done. He flaunts it in our faces time after time and I’m not going to let everyone else get hurt just because he wouldn’t care if the shoe was on the other foot.” Maria interrupts and you stare at her, jaw dropped. Ellie mutters a curse from beside you and you reach out for her. “Joel will be able to survive on his own until we get a group together. Lord knows that anyone that takes him on is in more danger than he is.”
The chill in her voice makes you hold the rebuttal you had. Your mouth closes as you catch the silent distaste from her and your hand moves to Ellie’s back.
“Wait on the porch, Ellie.” You speak evenly and even short tempered Ellie can hear the rage boiling over your words. She looks up at you and over to Maria, her fingers reaching for your sleeve. “Just a few minutes. I promise.”
“My husband is missing. He’s god knows where with god knows who. Neither Eugene or Shane backtracked or attempted to see if he’d been injured. I don’t know if he’s fallen off his horse, if he’s been bitten and is currently trying to decide wether or not to blow his brains out or if raiders have him and are beating him to death because he’d rather die than betray Jackson.” You tell Maria once Ellie has cleared the room. “He has fought with everything he has for over twenty years and if you want to say something about that, well now’s your chance.”
“I’m just saying that maybe, if there’s karma out there, that-“ Joel’s glass smashes, the whiskey splashing you both when you sweep it off the table, leaning towards Maria.
“Your husband done everything that mine did. So if it’s karma that’s hurt Joel out there then you’d wanna wrap Tommy up tight.” You warn her and she bristles, her jaw clenched.
“You know damn well that Tommy-“
“Was a grown man? With two hands? He pressed every trigger, he planned every attack. Just like Joel. So that they could survive. So that they could be alive to love us. Joel never pointed a gun at Tommy of that I can be absolutely fucking sure.” You told Maria, cutting her off. “Tommy was in the fucking army before it all happened. You think he sat twiddling his thumbs there?”
“There’s a team heading out in the morning. You won’t be given a horse before then. Sundown is in an hour. You won’t make it. I won’t condone it. You need to think of Ellie.” Maria left without further comment.
Stop. Stop. Stop.
Joel didn’t know pain like this existed. Every movement of the horse jolted each of his injuries. He had tried everything, every speed to see which hurt the least and there was no answer that didn’t have him biting the reins so as not to scream out.
Night was closing in fast and he was still too far from the closest patrol safe house. He needed to stop for the night but there was nowhere safe to stash himself and the horse. He stuck to the trail when he could, hoping he wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention.
He had to stop twice to bandage his leg again. The blood had slowed but it hadn’t stopped and he knew that was dangerous. He just had to get home. Tommy and him shared a blood type. He’d be fine if he got home.
Something cut across the trail causing his horse to rear back. With only one hand Joel didn’t have a chance, falling back and rolling into a ball as the horse stampeded and took off.
Joel stared at what was visible of the sky through the trees and gasped, attempting to catch the breath that had been knocked out of him.
This was it.
He would have to break his promise.
Stop. Stop. Stop.
“You’re going to be late.” You laughed when he began sponging kisses over where your towel wrapped around you. He moved your wet hair over your shoulder and continued kissing a path up your spine.
You were sitting on the edge of the bed attempting to get dressed while he was having his twenty extra minutes. It seemed he didn’t want to waste them sleeping today.
“It’ll be fine. Eugene is always late. It’s my turn.” He whispered and you felt the bed shift behind you as he sat up. You laughed when he tugged on your towel and you let him have his way. “Fuck.”
“See something you like?” You asked with another light laugh. His hands cupped your hips and travelled up your sides which had you writhing away from him while giggling. “Stop it. I give in.”
“Yeah, you giving in?” Joel asked against your neck, sucking kisses drawing the blood to your skin. “Gonna let me have my way with you?”
“Mhmm, I should’ve expected this when I married a dirty, old pervert.” You teased, gasping when he used his teeth to bite down. “All those years in the wild has left you depraved.”
“Who could blame me? A hot young wife like you, walking around half naked and basically begging for it like a bitch in heat. Well any man would have trouble resisting you.” Joel’s hand slipped around your side while he spoke to cup your breast. He thumbed lightly at the nipple before pinching harshly.
You gasped, leaning back against him as your hips lifted of their own accord. His words only fueled the fire and you whimpered, your head falling back on his shoulder. “Ain’t so smart now, are you Mrs Miller?”
“Nuh uh, Mr Miller.” You whispered as his hand slipped down over your stomach. He ran a finger down your slit and groaned against your neck. “I ain’t even touched you yet, baby.”
“Was thinking about you in the shower.” You muttered. He laughed against your neck. “Was hoping you’d wake early enough for this.”
You breathing turned shaky as his finger ran over your clit, barely there pressure making you twitch. “Yeah, is that why you were making so much noise getting ready for the day? Need me to take you apart first?”
You groaned as Joel pulled you back to sit between his legs. He was leaning against the headboard, keeping you faced away on purpose. He knew you liked to look at him. “Mhmm.”
“Couldn’t let me lie in. I fucked you twice yesterday, Pretty Girl. That wasn’t enough?” Joel asked, adding pressure to the finger circling your clit.
“Never enough.” You told him honestly. It was true. You don’t know how either of you managed to get anything done. From the moment you had met Joel, scared and defenseless on the outskirts of Jackson, he had enchanted you.
You had thought that maybe you had been alone so long that the trip back with him, sharing a horse had been the closest you had to human contact in months, made it seem reasonable that it had an effect on you.
“Insatiable.” He whispered in your ear, sliding a deliciously thick finger into you. The angle was off and he knew it wouldn’t do anything but tease you. “That’s what I get. Hard to keep up in my old age. Shouldn’t have snatched you out of the cradle.”
“I’m thirty- thirty six.” Your words caught on a moan when the palm of his hand pressed against your clit. “Hardly cradle snatching at that point.”
“I’m pushing sixty sweetheart. If I had a couple million dollars I could be a more handsome Hugh Hefner.” He teased as he inserted a second finger.
“That what you want? For me to put on some lingerie and bunny ears. Jacked it to playboy back in the day, did you?” You asked and he groaned. “Well old man, if you can’t keep up then let me take over.”
He laughed and raised his hands as you shuffled around to straddle his lap. He pulled the sheet back to bare himself to you and held you steady as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. “Always so fucking tight.”
“Cause you’re so fucking big.” You whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders. For a moment while you adjusted his hands were on your hips, thumbs stroking the skin softly.
“You ready, baby?” He asked softly as you started to shift your hips slowly. “Gonna take me?”
“Promise me.” You whispered, moving yourself slowly. The teasing was gone now, your hands cupping his face. “Make me the promise.”
“I’m coming home today.” He promised, his hands helping your hips in the slow grind, your clit rubbing against his happy trail. “If I have to crawl.”
“You’ll always come home, right?” You asked and Joel pressed a soft kiss to your lips, closing his eyes. “Promise.”
“There ain’t a force that could hold me down.” He promised quietly. “I’ll come home to you.”
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
Joel wasn’t alone. He could tell as much from the sounds around him. He was still over an hour from the closest safe house and darkness had settled over the forest like a blanket.
His vision was impaired and with his already shit hearing it had taken him a while to hear it. A stalker.
He wasn’t sure if that was worse or better than another of the merry band of brothers. His rifle was shit to him in the dark and he barely had the strength to raise it anyway.
At this point it might be easier to crawl. He considers it, getting down on his knees and crawling along with his one good arm.
Lying down is tempting if he’s honest. He’s got the pistol. It could be quick, painless even. He wouldn’t miss this time. He would be sure of it.
He knew the sound of his daughters voice was most likely due to blood loss. But his brain couldn’t rationalize the look of her in the forest. She was wearing her soccer uniform and he hissed at her to keep it down.
“It’s not safe. It ain’t safe, baby girl.” He hushed as the noise drew closer. He had to catch her, keep her quiet. She didn’t know, she had never known this world. “Sarah, baby, please.”
She continued to skip ahead, that same grin on her face. The Miller grin, it only ever lead to trouble. He could go back to her.
He could spend every day kicking a soccer ball with her and watching terrible movies. It wouldn’t be so bad. He missed her. He missed her so much.
“Sarah, you gotta be quiet.” She stared at him in horror and Joel knew without knowing. He ducked and the stalker overshot him just slightly, hitting the ground and rolling back. Joel freed his knife and brought it down, flinching back from the smell of rotting flesh and the teeth inches from his face.
He stumbled over the body of the stalker and waited for the next one to appear. The forest was still. Joel couldn’t hear his daughters laughter or the shifting noise of a stalker in the trees.
He was alone. Again.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
Ellie had fallen into a fitful sleep. You had woken her twice from nightmares, your shirt damp from her tears. You had never seen her so scared but you had never seen her without Joel. Some days it was hard to remember she was only sixteen when she carried everything on her shoulders.
She was just a little girl and her dad was in trouble. He was missing and she couldn’t help him anymore.
You weren’t much better, replaying his promise to you that very morning. He had to be okay because if he wasn’t okay there was no way you would be.
You’d be strong for Ellie, you knew that much but you wouldn’t be able to stay in Jackson. Not when every turned corner would bring back his memory.
“You better be crawling, old man.”
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
“Come on, Dad. We’ll be late.” Sarah was laying in the grass next to Joel. She was trying to convince him to come to her.
“You’d like them. You know.” Joel told her quietly, his eyes shut against the onslaught of pain that came with every movement. He was so cold. “She’d have been a good step mom.”
“She’d have been a good older sister.” Sarah teased and Joel laughed. It was true, she was only a couple of years younger than you. “She’s good for you.”
“Ellie too. She’s not you. She’ll never be you.” Joel told the ghost of his daughter by his side. “But she helps when I miss you.”
“Good. You need that. It’s time you forgive yourself for me.” Sarah sighed and Joel opened his eyes, turning his head to the empty forest.
“You better be crawling.”
He huffed a laugh and winced, rolling over and shoving himself up to his feet. “I’m coming baby.”
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
First light finds you at the stables. Ellie is preparing Shimmer while you go through the bags one more. With Joel being lost the stables are down a horse and you consider sharing with Ellie.
The only downside is you don’t know how stable Joel will be and three people is just too much for Shimmer to carry, especially with Joel.
“A patrol will be leaving at midday.” Maria is standing behind you when you turn. She looks as if she’s gotten as much sleep as you have. “It’ll take a while to organize supplies for a patrol that may take up to a week.”
“Midday is too late. Ellie and I will head out now. We’ll follow the route. Leave markers if we have to leave it for any reason.” You told Maria, looking over her shoulder.
“I can’t let you do that.” Maria spoke evenly and you turned to find Tommy and Darren flanking her. “Those horses are property of Jackson. You’re erratic, you’ll make mistakes. Get yourself hurt.”
“Keep your horse then. We’ll go on foot.” You shrug, pulling your pack up on your shoulders. Ellie joined you at your side, leaving Shimmer at your words. “That’s not something you can stop me doing.”
“We need to look at the reality of the situation.” Darren spoke up and you raised your eyebrows at him before looking across to Maria’s other side at the very quiet Tommy Miller.
“What other reality is there? My husband is probably hurt and I’m going out to help him.” You shrugged and Maria shook her head. “Don’t.”
“You’ll get hurt. It’s not worth-“
Silence fell as Ellie raised her pistol slowly, pointing it at Tommy. You stared at her and tried to fight the smile. She couldn’t know you approved of what she was doing. “You were saying?”
“Ellie. Lower the gun.” Maria spoke quietly, inching towards Tommy who hadn’t moved a muscle. “Don’t joke around like this.”
“Who’s joking?” Ellie asked, her thumb knocking the safety off. “Cause either you got a problem with Joel, which you better not, or you got a problem with husbands. In that case I’ll help get rid of yours.”
You covered your mouth so that she wouldn’t see you smile but you didn’t say anything, watching Maria go through the thought process. “Maybe it’s father figures? Want your kid to grow up without one so she can be cool and edgy like me?”
“You’re being ridiculous.” Maria warned, her jaw tight with tension.
“So are you. Cause it sounded like you were gonna say Joel wasn’t worth it.” Ellie told her, coiled just as tight with tension. “If you feel that way about someone we care about then why the fuck shouldn’t we treat you the same?”
“You’re awful quiet for a man who don’t seem to give two fucks about his brother.” You spoke up finally, eyes on Tommy. He stood to attention but his rifle was still slung over his shoulder, relaxed.
“Y’all are gonna point that gun at me no matter what I say.” He shrugged idly. “Turns out I ain’t able to stay on everyone’s good side. Joel has been through some pretty bad things and I think that he’ll hold on somewhere until we can get to him.”
“He wouldn’t have this discussion. He’d have been out that gate before Eugene and Shane had finished explaining.” You told him and Tommy nodded, agreeing with you.
“I ain’t pretending to be Joel. I’ve got a baby and a wife to think of. He’d kill me if I got hurt on his honor.” Tommy explained. “Now you told me yesterday to grow a pair and I’m telling you I did. I’m praying my big brother is okay but I can’t let my little girl grow up without a daddy.”
“He’s protected you-“
“Since I was four years old and our daddy went to get the paper and never came home. Our momma wasn’t much good and so he stepped up. He bailed me out of jail more times than I count.” Tommy interrupted. “He made sure I stayed alive all through the end of the world. I ain’t forget every sacrifice he made. He woulda been happier just rolling over and dyin’ after Sarah but he stayed alive. For me.”
“Then why-“
“Seems a piss poor way to thank him for saving my life by putting it on the line like this. You two should think about that. I know he’s made his fair share of sacrifices for you both, too.” Tommy said and you sighed, lifting a hand to cover your face, eyes burning with tears.
“He’s all alone.” You whispered and Ellie clutched you. “He ain’t ever been all alone. What if he can’t find a reason to keep fighting?”
“He’s got two great reasons right here.” Tommy promised. “He wouldn’t dare forget that.”
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
You had only left the lamp on in your living room. The low light lended you a softness in its golden glow. It kept everything cozy and personal, gentle.
Gentle just like his hands that held you up. Your back pinned against the wall, your legs around his waist. He held you like you were precious, kissing you softly.
“You sure about this?” He whispered against your lips. “Don’t owe me anything, sweetheart.”
“I want everything.” You whispered back, your hands cupping his face. You ran your thumb over his bottom lip, feeling the heat of his breath. “I have since that first moment.”
“There’s better men out there. Younger, kinder.” He warned you and you rolled your eyes. “I mean it, you think I’m a good man because I helped you. A few years ago I might not have.”
“While I highly doubt any version of you would’ve been able to tamp down your noble spirit, how fortunate am I that got this version of you?” You asked him, your hand moving to the back of his neck. “I want you, Joel. Scars and all.”
“You might change your mind in the morning.” He sighed, his head tipping back into the fingers combing through the hair at the base of his neck. “What happens then?”
“Well in the extremely low chance that happens we act like two adults that had sex casually. We get over it.” You tell him and he shakes his head.
“I won’t be able to get over it. I haven’t been able to get over you since the first time I touched your skin. Getting this, getting everything, I won’t survive it not working out.” He muttered and you sighed against his lips, using the hand at the back of his neck to push him close enough to kiss.
“Then take me to bed and keep me forever. It’s the only way it can work.” You whisper when you separate. He huffs an incredulous laugh before his grip shifts and he’s supporting you entirely, heading for the stairs.
“Well if that’s the only option, I guess I’ll take it.”
Think. Think. Think.
You had stayed in the stables with Ellie while the discussion took place. Tommy led the team, a map spread out over a barrel as he divided up routes for each team to take.
Initially he hadn’t wanted you or Ellie to go but for the sake of peace he had given in, assigning you both the creek trails. It was as much of a peace offering as you were gonna get so you both taken it.
“We got a live one!” A call came from the tower, drawing everyone’s attention. It was almost casual how disinterested you were in an infected getting this close to Jackson.
It was rare it happened but that’s what tower patrols were for. To deal with a situation like this. There was a pause and then a yell.
“Don’t fucking shoot! For the love of god don’t shoot. It’s Joel!”
Everyone paused in place, not daring to move a muscle. Several long seconds passed before you ducked by Tommy, tearing out of the stables towards the gate that was opening slowly.
And there he was. He was down on his knees, one hand across his chest in a sling. He was covered in blood and bruises but he was there. You slipped out past Jesse and skidded along the mud on your knees to land in front of Joel.
“I promised.”
Think. Think. Think.
Joel’s breathing was labored and even in his sleep he grunted in pain on every exhale. The sheet was low on his waist, showing of the mottled expanse of his chest. It was easy to see which ribs had been broken by the deep purple coloring.
His wrist was wrapped in a hard shell cast which Ellie had already signed with a black sharpie she had been coveting.
Hidden by the blanket was the knife wound which hadn’t knicked any arteries but had led to the need for two transfusions from Tommy just to give Joel enough of a chance to fight through his injuries.
You had spent most waking seconds with him in the clinic. You slept curled up in the chair and the rest of time you held his uninjured hand. The swelling on his face was going down slowly and he was beginning to look like your Joel again.
Ellie dipped in and out between school and spending time with her friends. You had assured her that he was fine and that you’d come get her if she was needed.
Your finger traced over his scarred knuckles and you wiped a tear away. His hand twitched in yours, lifting to wipe your cheek clumsily.
“Those tears better not be for me.” He grunted.
“Nah, they’re for me. You’re such a pain to keep on bed rest.” You teased, throat tight against the onslaught of emotion. “How you feeling, old man?”
“Like shit. Do you know how I broke my wrist?” He asked, looking up at you, shifting against his pillows. You only shook your head silently, unable to say anything for fear it would just be a sob. “Fell down a fuckin’ ladder. Was a contractor all my fuckin’ life and I fell down a ladder.”
You laughed wetly, the tears falling freely now. He tried to shush you, his free hand pulling you closer until you were curled up on his good side. “I was so scared.”
“Made you a promise, didn’t I?” He asked, a lightness to his voice so you’d know he was teasing. “There ain’t a force in this world that could keep me from coming home to you.”
You press your face into his neck as you attempt to compose yourself. You sniffled quietly and he tightened the arm wrapped around you. “Don’t ever put me through that again. Ellie and I almost got us kicked out of Jackson.”
“Oh yeah?” Joel laughs like it’s funny. “You causing trouble baby?”
“Ellie held Tommy at gunpoint. Maria and I fought so bad I thought she’d shoot me herself.” You told him quietly and his shifted around until he could look you in the eye.
“Why?” He asked, his eyes wide in shock.
“They didn’t want us to go looking for you.” You told him and he sighed. “I also hit Eugene.”
“Baby, it wasn’t his fault.” Joel assured you, raising the hand covered in a cast to smooth a finger over your cheek.
“Everyone knows why you’d split up.” You argued and Joel only rolled his eyes. “And then Maria and Tommy wouldn’t let us go. They, well Maria, said some pretty nasty things about you.”
“Maria’s got her reasons. I don’t know how much I’d like me if I was in her position.” Joel sighed and you rolled your eyes this time. “I’ve done some bad things, baby.”
“Just as many as Tommy has!” You argued and he sighed, sick of the same argument. You knew Joel was no saint but that didn’t make Tommy much better. “Told him to grow a pair.”
Joel laughed before wincing at the pain in his ribs. You let the conversation go and pressed in closer to him, your hand running up and down his chest carefully.
His breathing steadied and you assumed he had gone back to sleep. You continued to lie next to him, touching him softly.
“If heaven is real, they ain’t ever gonna let me in. No god could forgive me for what I’ve done.” Joel spoke and you looked up at him, your hand resting over his stomach.
“I ain’t too worried about a god that let the world fall to ruins like this. He’s got more problems than what you did to survive when I get to him.” Joel laughed, groaning in pain again. “I don’t care. About any of it. You’re my husband, you’re Ellie’s father. That’s what I care about.”
Think. Think. Think.
Maria calls by when Joel has been back home for a few days. He’s allowed sit up in bed but that’s all. You’ve taken it upon yourself to enforce his bed rest and he’s decided the rewards are very much worth it.
He learned the hard way what happens when he ignores your ruling in favor of stumbling down the stairs and collapsing against the couch in the short time it takes you to head to the trading post in town.
He had hurt his ribs which had only made it worse when you took a seat on the rocking chair in your bedroom, the one he had built you.
He had watched as you had brought yourself to orgasm, in too much pain to even sit all the way up.
It was the first time he had seen you have an orgasm without his help and it hurt more than all of his injuries combined. He had learned his lesson quickly.
So when Maria knocked he didn’t even look up from the book he was reading and you kissed his cheek in reward before crawling out of bed and heading for the stairs.
You opened the door and felt your smile drop as Maria stood in place, her hands folded in front of her. “I owe you an apology.”
You knew that you should accept it, send her on her way, and get back to Joel. It was all water under the bridge. “Damn right you owe me an apology.”
“I’m not sorry that I didn’t let you leave.” She explained, shifting her weight. “I was right, I knew he would get back here on his own.”
“Just fucking barely!” You couldn’t help the explosion. “Do you know how close I got to never seeing him again?”
“I understand but-“
“You play God here. You choose who is worth your time and who isn’t. You ain’t got a problem with Joel’s past when it makes him the best for patrol. When it’s raiders and smugglers he’s killing.” You snapped and she sighed. “He’s not your little soldier, that’s what you hate. You can bend Tommy to your will but you can’t have him.”
“I came to apologise.” She ignored your point and it made you even angrier. “I want to apologise for judging how he kept himself alive.”
You paused at that, not expecting her to admit it. She took a deep breathe and clasped her hands in front of her. “You were right. The choices they made brought them here to us. Tommy is alive because Joel made sure of it. I owe him everything I have.”
“I’m glad we’re clear on that.” You muttered petulantly, unable to stop yourself pulling the same face Ellie did when she was proven right.
“He loves you so much.” Maria sighed softly. “He used every last reserve a person has to get back here. He’s a different man when it comes to you.
You sighed and shook your head. “You still don’t get it. He’s not a different man with me. He’s the exact same man he’s been for over fifty years. I love him in every phase of his life. Given the chance I wouldn’t change loving him.”
You stared at Maria for a long second before shaking your head again and shutting the door in her face. You climbed the stairs and found Joel with his book in his lap and a proud smile he was trying to hide.
“You shouldn’t be so hard on her. She ain’t wrong.” Joel sighed and you rolled your eyes.
“Course she is. That’s my husband she’s talking about. I wouldn’t swear myself to just anyone in this world. Only the best.”
Stop. Breathe. Think.
Joel had only just earned the right to tackle the stairs again after two weeks of bed rest. He was reveling in his new found freedom by sitting on the sofa rather than the bed.
You had begun returning to society, picking up a few shifts down at the Tipsy Bison and trusting him to behave. You knew he would, he was wrapped around your finger.
He had just found a position that didn’t irritate any of his still healing injuries when there was a pounding at the door. He sighed to himself got up from the sofa, staggering slightly on his bad leg.
An irate Eugene was at the the door, his face red and his eyes wild. He attempted to shove past Joel who wasn’t so injured that he allowed it. He shoved Eugene back over the threshold, his eyebrows furrowed.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” Joel asked, his hand raised to shove Eugene backwards again if needed. He was incoherent with rage so Joel just stared at him.
“Where the fuck is she?” He snapped at Joel who frowned at Eugene. “The fucking bitch of yours, where is she?”
“Now Eugene, I got two lovely ladies in my life and I know you ain’t referring to either of ‘em as a bitch. So let’s try again before I gotta bust my stitches and break my cast to teach you a lesson.” Joel warned and Eugene attempted to shove by again only for Joel to shove harder this time, knocking him back a step.
“She fucking done it. I know she did. She’s the only one who would’ve. That fucking wife of yours.” Eugene’s eyes flashed and Joel reached forward, his fist curling in Eugene’s shirt.
“You don’t talk about my wife like that. I ain’t said nothing about the bruises you left on her wrist cause I been in recovery and she did try to hit you a second time. But don’t think I didn’t notice. If I think you’re gonna hassle her further I’ll bury you in that back fucking yard and use you to fertilize her flowers.” Joel warned, voice low. He barely noticed Tommy opening the gate behind Eugene and making his way up towards the porch.
“It’s all gone. It had to have been her.” Joel took a guess at what was missing as Eugene stepped back. “Years of fucking work.”
“She ain’t been outside that wall without me since the day she came in it. So walk fucking away. And don’t let me hear you been hassling her.” Joel warned. Eugene turned with more drama than Ellie during a tantrum, stalking past Tommy and banging the garden gate behind him.
“Wild that. Someone moved every single plant he had. You know how much that is?” Tommy asked and Joel looked over at his brother’s smirk. “Enough to fill the basement of that mansion a few miles away. Heat lamps were tough to get up there but there was already a generator in place.”
“You son of a bitch.” Joel grinned.
“That’s your mama too you’re talking about.”
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