#Understanding My Dogs Body Language

[reinemichele]

Also... I decided not to put this in the new cat post, both bc I didn't want it to get long and I decided to leave the reblogs on it bc the pictures are cute, and I didn't want This portion to be reblogged. I know a lot of people feel the same way I do, and that's a great thing, but I don't... want a lot of attention on my posts or blogs. The trauma, etc. So I don't want this to escape containment but still want to talk about it, and am turning reblogs off. Like, this is a journal entry that I'm letting people see at a sleepover, not a speech I've prepared for my public speech and debate class. You know?

So, that preamble out of the way: I feel like... a resigned frustration about people Still clinging to the myths that cats are cold, unloving, distant, only around humans for food, only tolerate us and think we're stupid, etc etc. Or express surprise when they see examples of cats being loving and affectionate. (I... don't want to talk about the stupid ass misogyny and bioessentialism being applied to cats, but that too)

Like, it really truly isn't difficult to befriend a cat and in turn receive their affection. All you have to do is 1) show them, consistently, that you are safe and don't pose a threat to them 2) go at their own pace and respect their boundaries/comfort zone (like, hold your hand out for them to sniff instead of petting them straight away; don't force them to cuddle just because you want to) 3) treat them with unconditional love, initiate moments of affection occasionally instead of waiting for them to initiate each time (like, call them over, talk/meow/sing to them, get out their favorite toys to play with, etc. Do things that convey that their love is reciprocated.) 4) try to understand and read their body language, and back off when they give warning signs like twitching tails or flattened ears 5) provide them with fresh food, water, litter boxes, a clean environment

These things are basically tweaks on the foundations of establishing a friendship with another human, obviously the last one aside. So, why do so many people have an issue with the idea of treating an animal like their an autonomous being whose personal space should be respected? (Rhetorical question). I know that this is the ND, struggles socially, just had a viral poll about not knowing how to make friends, website-- but generally speaking, the people who make comments about cats being mean and unloving aren't the people who make up this site's userbase. ND folks honestly tend to have a much easier time socializing with animals than humans, for a variety of reasons.

I personally hate being touched, so I never had to be taught about respecting a cat's space and boundaries. Part of that is taking the "do unto others" rule very literally and to heart, and part of that is that I don't want to make any other living creature feel the way I do when I'm touched without permission. It doesn't matter if that's a cat, or a bug, or another person. But there's lots of ways to be ND, and like I said, a variety of factors that contribute to us connecting with animals easily.

And I know it's a harsh thing to say, but if your cat is genuinely cold, distant, tolerates you, etc... it's most likely due to something you've done as their owner, not in the "inherent nature" of an entire species, especially a domesticated one. Maybe you make a lot of noise that scares them, maybe you use negative reinforcement (Does Not Work On Cats) like squirting with a water bottle. Maybe you yell at them. There's a lot of things that can make a cat feel afraid of you and fracture their trust in you. Maybe you force them to cuddle and hold them in place when they try to get away.

I think the idea that cats only like us for food stems in part from what I discussed briefly in that previous post, people who exclusively feed their cats dry food. Most dry foods, especially the cheaper ones, are full of fillers of vegetables and carbohydrates like wheat, which cats cannot digest. Cats are obligate carnivores that need to eat meat, and specifically the protein taurine, which is typically found in abundance in the heart of other animals. So feeding cats a diet of only dry food is like if your parents fed you potato chips for every meal. You'd eat a large quantity in an attempt to feel full, but your body would make it known that its needs aren't being met. So, cats fed only dry food cry for more food more often, wake their owners up at early hours and aggressively, get more persistent when their meal is 1 hour behind (like the jokes about daylight savings). People get automatic feeders, but that doesn't solve the nutrition deficit, so it doesn't solve the cat's "behavior" (cries for help! to the person responsible for their care!) and both the cat and owner become increasingly frustrated with each other. The desperate eating of more dry food to get the nutrition they need is the cause of a lot of the overweight cats you see, and can lead to hypertension, kidney disease, diabetes, depression, lethargy, apathy, chronic joint pain, difficulty jumping/exercising around the house which makes all the above issues more difficult to combat, etc.

Most people . Only feed their cats dry food because it's cheaper than buying wet food . And I Try to be understanding about like, poverty, the housing crisis, economic turmoil, price gouging, etc etc. But if you want a cat, you're committing to at least 10-18 years of providing for this animal. If you can't afford to actually provide for them and meet their needs, you need to, like, play a pet-raising sim instead of fucking up an animal's health in irreversible ways, or making them loyal to you out of fear. This animal is supposed to be your friend, supposed to trust you implicitly and have a mutual bond of unconditional love.

I've never had any difficulties making friends with cats; the only time a cat never became receptive to my company was one that had been in a very abusive household. Neighbors and family friends' cats have all quickly sought out my attention and pets/cuddles. My cats have all been affectionate, trusting, and receptive to my emotions/physical pain. I have enough examples to fill its own post, but trust me when I say that every day my cats show through consideration, companionship, body language, and seeking out pets/cuddles, that they love and trust me, and my family. (Actually, I had a cat that would pee in one of my abusive aunts shoes whenever she visited our house <3 That cat said "your vibes are rancid and you're not welcome here")

This post is already pretty long, so I'll wrap it up here. I just wish that more people would put in the effort to learn/understand cat's body language and meet cats halfway instead of expecting cats to act like dogs do. (AND . I wish people would apply the above listed steps to how they treat dogs . You should be respecting their personal space and showing them respect too, asshole!) If you know what to look for re: a cat's body language, you'll see that they're telling us in a myriad of ways how much they enjoy our company, respect us, love us, etc.

[roarinsaurus]

the part of laios' character that sticks with me most, is that. he has a genuine disdain for other human beings. like. the winged lion looks into his desires, says "you hate humans" and laios barely, if at all, protests. he DOES

he has this upbeat outward appearance but deep down he resents the people around him. he's been ostracized, he's seen how they ostracized his sister for her magic, he can't understand him, they can't understand him, they're cruel and toss him to the side and refuse to accept him so he finds more comfort and companionship with the animals around him.

if he could live in that world and leave all humanity behind he would without a second thought

[basaltbutch]

oh you know what. remembered i was partially raised by dogs. that might explain some things about me.

[grubloved]

im allistic but only for cats

[staycatcher]

Hello!

I don't think you took that long at all! And it sounds like you were having fun so it's all okay, I've never heard of that before but I think it would be fun to go someday or something like it maybe 😃

I'd love it if you could send photos of your sister's dog he sounds so cute and your own cat too of course 🥺

I respect picking lotad but if we're shooting for the stars I'm picking a dragon, they're huge, they fly, and they breathe fire! And I feel like I have to pick them as my favorite fantasy creature because they remind me of my favorite book when I was a child but I don't really know if I have a favorite. Have you ever pet a pig before? They're really wiry feeling but they're cute enough that I don't care.

And I don't write so you're in luck, I'll note your preference by not starting now, let me know if you think of anything else though ❤️

I'm tired so I can't really think of anything else to ask but you can ask me anything you want or go off about something in the answer to this message.

🔍

WAIT I JUST REMEMBERED!! I’m changing my answer!! My dream pet is a sky bison!! Like appa from the avatar universe!!!🥺💞💝 LOVE those lil (huge, honkin) guys!!

N yea!! Any excuse to share animal photos I will share them!! I’ll go full proud grandpa mode!

Here He is! His name is Dax, he’s 2

Here is my baby Bear! I thought she looked a lil bear cub when I first got her! She’s now 3🥺

Here is them meeting for the first time!! He offered her a ball, she was confused. Now he’s much much bigger, n tramples her every chance he gets n is still confused on why she doesn’t behave like a dog n she would rather admire him from a distance <3

[kaijutegu]

Alligator Body Language and You, or: How To Know When An Alligator On Social Media is Being Stressed for Views

Alligators are wild animals. Despite the idiotic claims of animal abusers like Jay Brewer, they cannot be domesticated, which means they are always going to react on the same natural instincts they've had for millions of years. Habituated, yes. Tamed, yes. Trained, definitely. Crocodilians can form bonds with people- they're social and quite intelligent. They can solve problems, use tools, and they're actually quite playful. Alligators are also really good at communicating how they're feeling, but to somebody who doesn't spend much time around them, their body language can be a bit mystifying. And it doesn't help when social media influencers are saying shit like this:

That is not what a happy gator looks like.

That's a terrified, furious gator who isn't attacking because the ogre handling her has her in a chokehold. She's doing everything she can to express her displeasure, and he's lying about it because he knows his audience doesn't even know how to think critically about what he's doing. He knows that because his audience doesn't know anything about these animals, he can get away with it. This I think is why I hate him so much- he deliberately miseducates his audience. He knows what he's doing is factually inaccurate, he just doesn't care because attention means more to him than anything else in the world.

Let's change that! Here are two really important lessons for understanding alligator body language on social media.

Lesson 1: Alligators Don't Smile (in fact, most animals don't)

So what's going on in this video? Jay Brewer is aggressively choking his white alligator Coconut while scrubbing algae off of her with a toothbrush. And make no mistake, he is digging into the creature's throat while she is visibly distressed. He claims she's happy- but she's not. He is willfully misrepresenting what this animal is feeling. That's a problem, because people... well, we actually kind of suck at reading other species' body language. The reason for this is that we tend to overlay our own responses on their physical cues, and that's a problem. For example, let's look at an animal with a really similar face to ours, the chimpanzee. Check out Ama's toothy grin!

Wait, no. That's not a happy smile. That's a threat display. When a chimpanzee "smiles," it's either terrified and doing a fear grimace, or it's showing you its teeth because it intends on using them in your face.

How about a dog? Look at my smiling, happy puppy!

Oh wait no, this is a picture of Ryder when he was super overwhelmed by noise and people during a holiday party. He'd hopped up in my sister's lap to get away from stuff that was happening on the floor and was panting quite heavily. See the tension in the corners of his mouth and his eyes? A lot of the time when a dog "smiles," the smile isn't happy. It's stress! Why Animals Do The Thing has a nice writeup about that, but the point is, our body language is not the same as other species. And for reptiles, body language is wildly different.

For instance, look at these two alligators. Pretty cute, right? Look at 'em, they're posing for a Christmas card or something! How do you think they're feeling?

Well, I'll tell you how the normal one is feeling. He's annoyed! Why is he annoyed? Because the albino just rolled up, pushed another gator off the platform, and is trying to push this guy, too. I know this because I actually saw it happen. It was pretty funny, not gonna lie. He's not gaping all the way, but he was hissing- you can actually see him getting annoyed in the sequence I took right before this shot. Look at him in this first shot here- he's just relaxing, and you can see he isn't gaping even a little bit.

By the end, he's expressing displeasure, but not enough to actually do anything about it. He's annoyed, but he's comfy and that's where one of the best basking areas is, so he'll put up with it.

Reptiles open their mouths wide for a lot of reasons, but never because they are actively enjoying a sensation. Unless they're eating. No reptile smiles- they can't. They don't even have moveable lips. If a reptile is gaping, it's doing so because:

It is doing a threat display.

It is making certain vocalizations, all of which are threats. Alligators are one of the rare reptiles that do regularly vocalize, but most of their calls aren't made with a wide open mouth.

It is about to bite something delicious or somebody stupid. Check out this video- virtually all of the gaping here is anticipatory because these trained gators know darn well that the bowl is full of delicious snacks. (I have some issues with Florida's Wildest, but the man knows how to train a gator AND he is honest about explaining what they're doing and why, and all of his animals are healthy and well-cared for, and he doesn't put the public or his staff at risk- just himself.)

It's too hot and it has opened its mouth to vent some of that heat and thermoregulate. This is the main reason why alligators will often have their mouths part of the way open, but sometimes they'll open all the way for thermoregulation. This is what a thermoregulatory gape looks like- usually it's not all the way open, kinda more like < rather than V, but you can't say that 100% of the time. Additionally, a thermoregulatory gape... typically happens when it's hot out. If they're inside, maybe they've been under their basking light for too long. Heat's the dominant factor, is what I'm getting at.

There is another reason that a captive crocodilian might be gaping, and that's because it's doing so on command. Some places have their gators trained to gape on cue, like St. Augustine Alligator Farm and other good zoos. They have the animals do this in presentations that are genuinely educational. They ask the animals to open their mouths so that they can show off their teeth and demonstrate how their tongues seal off the back of their mouth. They'll also do it as part of routine healthcare, because looking at their teeth is important.

In this case, the animals aren't gaping because they're stressed, they're gaping because they know they're gonna get a piece of chicken or fish if they do it. And what's more, they're doing it on cue. They have a specific command or signal that tells them to open wide. It's not an instinctive response to a situation. It's trained. If the animal provides the behavior after a cue, the situation is much less likely to be negatively impactful.

It's also important to remember that there's a difference between a partially open mouth and a gape! As discussed above, alligators will often have their mouths a little bit open just to maintain temperature homeostasis. It helps them stay comfy, temperature-wise. These guys are all doing thermoregulatory open-mouthed behavior- that slight open and relaxed body posture is a dead giveaway. (That and it's the hottest spot in the enclosure.)

Lesson 2: A Happy Gator Is A Chill Gator

So if alligators don't smile or have facial expressions other than the :V that typically signifies distress, how else can you tell how they're feeling? One way is stillness. See, alligators subscribe to the philosophy of if it sucks... hit da bricks.

Basically, if they hate it, they'll leave. Unless, y'know, somebody has their meaty claws digging into their throat or is otherwise restraining them. (Restraint isn't always bad, btw. Sometimes the animal is going through a medical thing or needs to be restrained for their safety- which a responsible educator will explain.)

Let's look at a very similar scenario, in which a captive alligator is getting his back scrubbed.

As you can see, it's quite different. First, he's not being restrained at all. Second, look at how relaxed he is! He's just chilling there vibing! He could simply get up and leave if he wanted to, because he's not being held. Towards the end of the video, as he lifts his head, you can see that his respiratory rate is very even as his throat flutters a bit. I'm not sure what this facility is, so I can't comment on care/general ethics, but like. In this specific case, this is an alligator enjoying being scrubbed! And you can tell because he's not doing anything. A happy gator is content to be doing what they're doing.

Why Should I Listen To You?

Now, you should ask yourself, why should you listen to me? Why should you trust me, who does not own an alligator, versus Jay Brewer, who owns several?

Well, first off, there's no profit for me in telling you that what you're seeing on social media is in fact not what you're being told you're seeing. I'm not getting paid to do this. That's the thing with people who make social media content. The big names aren't doing it just for fun. They're doing it for money. Whether that's profit through partnerships or sponsorships, or getting more people to visit their facilities, or ad revenue, you can't ignore the factor of money. And this is NOT a bad thing, because it allows educators to do what they're passionate about! People deserve to be paid for the work that they do!

But the problem starts when you chase the algorithm instead of actually educating. A "smiling" alligator gets the views, and if people don't know enough to know better, it keeps getting the views. People love unconventional animal stories and they want those animals to be happy- but the inability to even know where to start with critically evaluating these posts really hinders the ability to spread real information. Like, this post will probably get a couple hundred notes, but that video of Coconut being scrubbed had almost 400,000 likes when I took that screenshot. Think about how many eyeballs that's reached by now. What I'm saying here is that it's just... really important to think critically about who you're getting your information from. What do dissenters say in the comments? What do other professionals say? You won't find a single herpetologist that has anything good to say about Prehistoric Pets, I can tell you that right now.

Another reason you can trust me is that my sources are not "just trust me bro," or "years of experience pretending my pet shop where animals come to die is a real zoo." Instead, here are my primary sources for my information on alligator behavior:

Dragon Songs: Love and Adventure among Crocodiles, Alligators, and Other Dinosaur Relations- Vladimir Dinets

The Secret Social Lives of Reptiles- J. Sean Doody, Vladimir Dinets, Gordon M. Burghardt

Social Behavior Deficiencies in Captive American Alligators (Alligator mississippiensis)- Z Walsh, H Olson, M Clendening, A Rycyk

Social Displays of the American Alligator (Alligator mississippiensis)- Kent Vliet

Social Signals and Behaviors of Adult Alligators and Crocodiles- Leslie Garrick, Jeffery Lang

Never smile at a crocodile: Gaping behaviour in the Nile crocodile at Ndumo Game Reserve, South Africa- Cormac Price, Mohamed Ezat, Céline Hanzen, Colleen Downs (this one's Nile crocs, not American alligators, but it's really useful for modeling an understanding of gape behaviors and proximity)

Thermoregulatory Behavior of Captive American Alligators (Alligator mississippiensis)- Cheryl S. Asa, Gary D. London, Ronald R. Goellner, Norman Haskell, Glenn Roberts, Crispen Wilson

Unprovoked Mouth Gaping Behavior in Extant Crocodylia- Noah J. Carl, Heather A. Stewart, Jenny S. Paul

Thank you for reading! Here's a very happy wild alligator from Sanibel for your trouble.

[sanjisprincesswifey]

pros and cons

summary: the good, the bad, the ugly, perfectly curated into a pros and cons list

♡: reupload (but better now), some nsfw content is listed; MDNI, includes all characters with indications of a female reader!

black leg sanji

pros:

constantly wants to color coordinate your outfits together

let’s you pick meals at minimum once a week

very good kisser (he practiced with his pillow a lot before your first date)

he wants you to walk him like a dog

sanji never lets you forget how much you mean to him

always remembers important dates, birthdays, anniversaries, etc. 

remembers the little things and notices your absence (will often go to try and find you)

adapts to whatever love language you respond to 

cons:

the nicotine smell embeds into your sheets and clothes and is a pain in the ass to get out

yells for any minor inconvenience

occasionally too handsy

always finishes before you

major jealousy issues

is constantly horny

says he’s fine but he’s dying inside

doesn’t understand the concept of alone time and takes it personally if you ask to be by yourself

roronoa zoro

pros: 

the best napping partner

protective

is a softie but only with you

very emotionally intelligent 

gym trainer boyfriend

let’s you take the relationship at your own pace because he can’t be bothered 

loves to mark you and give you hickies

always makes sure you finish first 

cons: 

stinky (bro smells like sweat and steel)

does not have a single romantic bone in his body; you’ll literally have to teach him how to be a boyfriend

is extremely blunt 

snores super loud 

might fall asleep while you’re talking

you can no longer be friends with sanji 

doesn’t ask you to date him, just assumes you are together

gets upset when you can’t keep up with his drinking

monkey d luffy

pros: 

the best hugger 

extremely loyal to you

hides midnight snacks for both of you

lets you sit on the ship’s figurehead with him

king of silly sentimental gifts (hand-picked flower, cool rock, pretty seashell, that sort of thing)

always makes sure you’re included in conversations

shares his favorite foods with you

can always make you feel better

cons:

doesn’t know how to be quiet or whisper

never lets you win arguments

throws himself at you with no regard to his strength

no concept of personal space

rubs his boogers on you

accidentally makes fun of the noises you make during sex

will steal blankets from you while you’re asleep  

points out your pimples or zits 

usopp

pros: 

always finds a way to make you laugh

grows flowers for you

comforts you if you’re insecure

handmade gifts!!!!!!

brags about you to everyone

loves to show you off and tell stories about your adventures together

names special attacks after you

always lets you in on the pranks he pulls 

cons: 

is insecure

would sacrifice you to an enemy to protect himself

shows you bugs even if you’re afraid of them

incredibly awkward with all your firsts 

clammy hands

make jokes during arguments (it makes you madder and the cycle continues)

never tops

sometimes pranks you too 

cyborg franky

pros:

is always telling you how hot you are

can literally build/make you anything you desire

romantic (can be corny sometimes though)

so flirty with you

human refrigerator; occasionally lets you store things in there

introduces you like this: “and this is my super smokin’ hot girlfriend, OW” to anyone who will listen

protects you during fights

king of reassurance

cons:

messy

never wears pants

slaps your ass too hard since he’s half metal

dad jokes 24/7

you can’t compliment him without him doing a montage of poses

difficult to cuddle with (again he’s made of parts)

always busy fixing something on the ship

is constantly asking you if he can make you a cyborg too

nami

pros:

lets you take a few of her tangerines

immune to her reprimanding when something bad happens (most times)

extremely thoughtful gift giver

shares her money with you

cares deeply about you (don’t point it out though because then she’ll stop)

is always telling you how pretty you are

very good in bed

is more lenient with your allowance

cons:

pawns gifts you get her

bad communicator

critiques everything about you

can and will distance herself from you

charges you if you piss her off

talks about vivi way too much for having a whole other girlfriend

doesn’t apologize after fights even if she caused them

bullies you (with love)

nico robin

pros:

leaves you notes in books to find later

the voice of reason in your relationship

notices and compliments you on every little change you make (haircuts, style change, etc.)

extremely good listener

literally a human search engine; so smart you can ask her almost any question and she knows the answer

passionate lover; treats you like a god in bed

soft lips

spoils you in every way that she can

cons:

can make you feel dumb with her endless knowledge

will never say ‘i love you’ first

always tops (a possible pro depending on your preferences tbh)

has nightmares almost every night ):

closed off in the beginning of your relationship

franky hits on her (and you) all the time

rather be reading than with you

takes your relationship extremely slow

portgas d ace

pros:

can heat food up for you at any time day or night

loves pda

plans fun dates

probably says ‘i love you’ a million times a day

into body worship (both ways)

kills bugs for you

walk him like a dog, sis !

never says no to you

cons:

sweaty and greasy in the summer

farts and gives you a dutch oven

doesn’t take anything seriously

adhd moments

mommy AND daddy issues

likes to lay on top of you even though he’s huge and basically crushes you

talks with his mouth full

is loud in bed (because he enjoys it so much) and everyone can hear when you two have sex

sabo

pros:

another body worshipper

dragon claw fist. need i say more?

the best secret keeper

praises you

would actually bow down to you

very respectful, asked you to kiss on your first date

awkward but sensual lover

a loyal puppy

cons:

loves being right

sore winner & loser

cocky ass mf

talks about luffy and ace 24/7

never on time

bad temper

might catch on fire if he’s mad

loves to tease you (again, could be a pro depending on your preferences)

shanks

pros:

buys you anything you could ever want

good kisser

always showing you off

treats you like a queen

calls you his wife

very affectionate in public

another worshipper; does that thing where his kisses lead up from your hand to your shoulder

when he gets drunk and you try to kiss him, he pushes you away and says “get off me, i have a wife”

cons:

gets you riled up during the day

teases you all the time

can be unreliable

bad at flirting

drunk all the time

still makes jokes about his arm even though it’s been YEARS

lingering alcohol smell

pervert

trafalgar law

pros:

rarely cooks but always does for you when you’re sick

smells amazing all of the time

lets you do this eyeliner in the morning (based off this fanart)

is a victim of the ‘she fell first, he fell harder’ trope

gives you sound solutions to your problems

literally becomes addicted to you and can’t live without you

flusters easily, very shy

would shave his facial hair if you asked him to (please tell him to shave off that godforsaken beard)

cons:

very blunt

never talks about his feelings

grammar police

a virgin; he doesn’t know what to do but fakes confidence like he does (it makes your first time a bit awkward but just talk him through it, babe)

humbles you without meaning to

over explains if you broach a subject he likes

sassy

just stares at you when you try to flirt with him

eustass kid

pros:

scary boyfriend privilege

an absolute beast in bed

insanely good kisser

raspy morning voice

you get to use his boobies as a pillow

is very smart but kinda dumb

eats pussy like a starved man

will always save you some food (it’s how he shows he cares)

cons:

dramatic

hangs out with killer more than you

will put the milk carton back in the fridge even if it’s empty

you can never be mad at him or make him mad because he’s the biggest asshole ever

ignores you if you’re fighting

zones out while you’re talking

if you send him a long, thoughtful text, he’ll respond back with ‘k’

what’s his is his and what’s yours is his

donquixote rosinante

pros:

walk. him. like. a. dog.

possessive over you, especially around his brother

would protect you with his last dying breath

absolute romantic

probably writes you poems

gentle giant, is so careful and soft with you

amazing cook despite accidentally setting himself on fire

has the patience of a god, once again, because of his brother

cons:

clumsy

you have to keep a fire extinguisher with you at all times

you can’t get the smoke smell out of his clothes

he’s so tall you can’t kiss normally, he has to pick you up

whiny

silent treatment

covers up his farts with his devil fruit and you don’t realize it until it stinks

has really bad resting bitch face (literally goes from :| to :) in .03 seconds)

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated (✿◠‿◠)

[crushmeeren]

♡ Todoroki/Fem Reader

♡ Master List Link

⇢ Everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+.

⇢ Warnings; cursing, making out, dirty talk, Shouto is a champ at eating pussy/ass, fingering, vaginal sex, Shouto is a little subby in this

♡ Authors Note; I had to complete the headcannons for my favorite three MHA boys sooner rather than later. I love Shouto, he deserves all the good things and a lot of hugs.

Shouto who comes off as cold, uninterested, a giant dick — but who is so sweet and so loving it makes your teeth ache. Who is the kind of person that writes down facts about you so he doesn’t forget — you accidentally stumbled upon the list in his notes app and promptly cried.

Shouto who never ceases to buy extra of what he’s eating so you can have some too, even if you weren’t hungry in the first place.

Shouto who doesn’t understand social cues very well. Who tilts his head adorably when he’s confused. Who wears a blank, spaced out expression on his face often when he’s unsure of what’s going on.

Shouto who lets you teach him how to read the room a bit easier, to understand body language and tone. Whose pretty smile could melt icy glaciers with its tender warmth. Who is so comfortable with you he makes all sorts of facial expression, which you take as a triumphant win.

Shouto who you met in high school but didn’t date until after graduation. Who you crossed paths with while battling a villain and you caught mid air as he was nose diving from the top of a building. Who was probably a bit delirious because he swears he saw you with a halo, because he “fell in love with an Angel that day.”

Shouto who loves to drink strawberry milk. Who has so many cartons cluttering the fridge in your home it drives you nuts. Who compulsively brings you a glass when he’s drinking some because he’s learned he can show you he loves you by sharing what enjoys. It’s so cute when you get a glass out of nowhere.

Shouto who decides to be a bit “rebellious” after he gets out of high school. Who decides to cut his hair shaggy and short. Who gets a nose ring, pierces his ears and acquires a tongue ring. Who is with you when you get your own body modifications, and often wears jewelry that reminds him of you.

Shouto who claims his absolute favorite thing in the world is to snuggle up with you on the couch. Especially when it’s raining and the two of you are wrapped up in a fluffy blanket burrito, watching movies and napping. If it turns X rated, well who can blame you?

Shouto who is a dry texter. We’re talking Sahara Desert dry. Who does still take the time to send you pictures of things you love while he’s out on patrol, especially of dogs that he encounters. Who gets so happy when you respond in kind, forming your own language with one another.

Shouto who tends to wear a streetwear style when he’s not working. Who likes to wear matching clothes with you. Who even bought you both a pair of matching underwear with your faces on them. You’re unable to resist, you’re technically sitting on his face all day… right??

Shouto who is terrible at almost every video game, but who can annihilate anyone at Mario Kart. You’re definitely not bitter about that. Funnily enough, the best part of game night when everyone is over is watching Bakugou lose his mind when Sho decimates repeatedly.

Shouto who has remained tight knit with Midoriya. Who considers the man as his brother by extension, and who you’ve grown close to as well. Who goes to the #1 hero for help planning you a surprise party by sending Midoriya a series of increasingly concerning emojis until he agrees.

Shouto who loves to eat peach gummy rings. Who you have, on more than one occasion, woken up to eating the candy at 2:00 am. Who offers you one, which you casually eat and go back to bed. Who memorizes your favorite candy and leaves it for you to find everywhere.

Shouto who has told you the story of how he got his burn scar. About his father, his brother and all the horrors of his past. Who opened up to you, willingly sharing a side of himself others don’t get the privilege to see.

Shouto who has taken you to meet his family, to meet his mother. Who added you to the group chat with all his siblings, which is unbelievably entertaining. Who tries to fit his face with more than one expression when he meets your parents, but you make sure he knows he’s perfect for you just the way he is.

Shouto who loves you unconditionally. Who is your soul mate, your best friend. Whose love for you has grown bigger than a California Redwood tree. Who becomes your husband, who you love more than life itself. You’d start a goddamn war for this man.

Shouto who enjoys kissing. Who loves to lazily make out with you. Whose cock starts twitching in his briefs when the kiss turns messy. Whose lips get slick and puffy as they press together consistently with yours. Who eagerly slips his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it and sinking his teeth into your bottom lip so roughly it stings.

Shouto who likes to spread you out on your back in bed, stripping you until your only in one of his large T-shirts. Who leers at you when he pushes it up your belly, gently letting it catch on your tits until he can watch them fall and bounce. Who makes you keep the shirt up around your collarbone when he sucks on your nipples.

Shouto who bites the skin on your sternum, plush lips tickling your belly as he makes his way to your pussy. Who grips the bottoms of your thighs and presses them backwards to your chest. Who stares at you with heavy lidded eyes as he licks from your pussy to your clit, making sure to swirl the cold metal of his tongue ring around it.

Shouto whose eyes flutter closed while he eats you out. Who makes you cry out when he sucks your clit, tongue ring passing over it with each methodical swipe of his tongue. Who praises you murmuring “your pussy is amazing angel, will you let me eat your ass? pretty please?”

Shouto who strips you both. Whose flushed cock stands full and heavy when you see it. Who flips you, yanking your ass in the air and shoving your face into the sheets. Who spanks you unforgivingly and grips the thick flesh of your ass to spread you open. Who chills his tongue ring even more and kitten licks at your rim until you want to scream.

Shouto who shoves two fingers in your pussy without warning. Who curls and thrusts them as he sucks on your rim until you cum so hard you see stars. Who pulls away from you, stroking himself for relief and speaks with a wrecked voice pleading “I want to put my cock in you so badly, can I please princess?”

Shouto who is aware you’re a pillow princess, but has hearts in his eyes, cheeks flushing bubblegum pink when you tell him you’ll ride him for a bit. Who props his back up against the headboard with a couple pillows, allowing you to flip around so your back faces him. Who holds your wrists behind your back as you ride him, letting out delicate and whiny moans while you make his toes curl.

Shouto who spreads you with his free hand, eyes glued as his cock disappears into your pussy while you bounce in his lap. Whose dick throbs, breathing hitching when you throw your head back and you moan “fuck Shouto, your cock is so good, you’re gonna make me cum!”

Shouto who reaches his limit, pushing you off his cock and onto your back whispering filthy praise in your ear. Who grips his shaft, teasing your clit with the tip before slipping his dick all the way back inside with one fluid roll of his hips.

Shouto who bends you in half, hooking your knees over his shoulders and folding you into a mating press. Who fucks you roughly, hips curling up with the intention to bully your g-spot. Who makes sure you feel each drag of his cock, coaxing you into cumming with a handful of strokes. Who gets you to cum over and over, little water balloons of warm pleasure popping and coursing through you.

Shouto who produces low moans when your pussy squeezes his cock. Who desperately pleads with you to cum one more time because he can’t hold on for much longer.

Shouto who makes you feel dizzy as you chase your pleasure once more while folded as a pretzel. Who cums instantly when your sweet cries hit his ears, praising and encouraging him all at once. Who pushes into the hilt, grinding against you as he bursts at the seams, panting to catch his breath.

Shouto who giggles with you as he untangles your limbs. Who flops down beside you, lacing your fingers together as you enjoy the leftover bliss.

Shouto who eventually gets up to clean you both. Who finds the shirt you were previously wearing and some clean panties for you to wear. Who pulls you into a hug, murmuring how much he loves you, planting kisses all over your face. Shouto who then goes to the kitchen and brings you a glass of strawberry milk.

[inkskinned]

"your pet doesn't love you; it just has learned that it will get treats if it acts a certain way. it can't understand you."

in between humans, i don't always speak the language either. love has always been hard for me. i don't trust it. i can't read it easily on people's faces - i'm usually trying to read past it; to the "other parts", the ones that make sense to me.

but my mom always offers me food as soon as i get through the door. my brother calls me at weird hours, just to be talking. my sister has a nightmare; asks me to please drive safe in the morning. i throw my friends random parties, just to celebrate something. she drives 45 minutes to spend 3 hours with me. amelia holds my hand while we both cross the street.

no, my dog and i don't have the same language. so what? this is not the same thing as communication. my dog is a good study in how trauma can heal - a rescue from the racetrack; i've been watching his personality develop slowly. in the last year, he's gotten so comfortable with me that he'll ask me to sit down on the grass so he can use my body as a seat. (it's important to note: he is huge. he squishes me. i don't complain. i find it lovely.)

love for us is also just endorphins and behavioral response. i'm a poet, the number of sad men that have tried to "teach me" how stupid it is to be a hopeless romantic is ... not a low one. i cannot count how many times someone has argued - it's all chemical stimulus - as if the fact of it makes it less magical. we're just electrical signals reading the universe! that's fucked up. that's so beautiful.

i find it hard to believe that in the spectrum of evolution we are the only species to feel like this - we already know that dogs and cats also have endorphins. why wouldn't they experience joy? love? companionship? in what world is it a new thing that i had to earn it? in every relationship, both individuals have to work to learn the language. i had to teach my dog what trust is. it's okay that it took time for him to learn it.

in the human world, when i love someone, it's hard for me to speak it. i write them poems or make them food or give them a cool rock i found on the beach.

i don't know how to tell goblin i love him, so i tell him through treats. through a new collar, fancy mattresses, a little bow on his leash. i tell him with long walks and petting him and sitting down on the wet ground so my 70 pound sharp noodle of a dog can prance on my thigh bones and take an awkward - if loving - seat.

"you taught your dog to love you" is kind of a cruel way to reframe what actually happened: i loved him so loudly, it skipped over language and species. the two of us just saying - oh! i have figured out a way to tell you that you make me happy.

[thehmn]

I’m pretty sure I’ve made a post about this before but I think I need some gifs to illustrate my point.

I’m something of a dog nerd. I don’t know a lot about breeds but I love diving into dog language and it’s a common misconception that a dog wagging its tail means it’s happy. That could not be further from the truth. A wagging tail just means it’s excited and that could mean happy, scared, curious or angry. A wagging tail is the dog asking you to pay attention to it. A dog that’s trying to hide never wags its tail.

First off, happy. A wagging tail combined with soft loose body language is a happy welcoming dog.

Stiff body means the dog is on guard and you should only approach with caution. It’s trying to determine if you’re a danger so if you approach you should avoid making eye contact and talk in a friendly high pithed voice. If the dog’s body remains stiff leave it be. If it lowers its head and starts wagging its tail more slowly and loosely that means it’s softening up to you.

Basically if it goes from acting like the dog on the right to the dog on the left you’re in the clear.

For understandable reasons I have trouble finding a gif of a truly scared dog but closed stiff body language with no snarling but a wagging tail means fear and you should only approach with caution because fear can quickly turn to anger.

If a dog looks away or try to avoid making eye contact it’s terrified and if it suddenly turns to look at you you’re probably in trouble.

And of course anger. We all know what that looks like but most people are so focused on the snarling teeth they don’t see the wagging tail. If you do don’t try to rationalize it. Listen to your fear. It’s not playing roughly. It’s fucking angry and you should absolutely not approach.

Btw, I don’t want to get into all the tiny micro expressions that dogs make but if you see a dog making this face it’s not smiling. It’s terrified. If it’s not accompanied by soft wiggly motions it’s a very very scared dog that is trying to appease you and though it’s not always the case it’s most likely a dog that’s used to getting hit or beaten.

These are broad guidelines but you should always approach a dog you don’t know with caution. They are individuals who doesn’t always follow set rules for how to behave but if you keep this in the back of your mind you’re far more prepared for interacting with dogs than just “tail wag means happy”.

[strawberrydykke]

when we took my dog to the vet last month she said that i read his body language very well and. yeah. when we got him, i spent months only being able to think about dog training, behaviors, body language, diet, common health issues, etc. any minute that i wasn’t actively training him i spent researching. i thought every one did that but it turns out i’m just autistic lol

[kajibunny]

⟡˖ ࣪ ren kaji as your boyfriend ₊˚⊹⋆

✿ summary: relationship headcanons (ren kaji x reader) ✿ warnings: awkward silliness, some parts are a lil suggestive ✿ a/n: i love this man so much you don’t understand pls ;__; hi i'm new here and ofc my first post is abt my love, ren kaji hihi pls be nice!! ✿ wc: 960

ꕤ kaji is more than just your bf, he’s also your bff, partner-in-crime, and sometimes guard dog (lol).

ꕤ he’s a little mean, but he means well. 

ꕤ everyone in town refers to you both as each other’s “other half”, as he relies on you quite a lot. not because he wants to boss you around (well, well, iykyk second year grade captain ren kaji mode on) but because he immensely trusts you.

ꕤ you also rely on him a lot, and he is a very protective boyfriend. he won’t let anyone harm a single hair on your head if he can help it.

ꕤ lots of people thought you two were already together way before you two actually got together, since you two were always…well, together. to the point that you adapted each other’s habits and vocabulary. (you catch yourself picking up kaji's direct tone of speaking and occassional "damnit!") no one was at all surprised when he introduced you as his lover. to everyone, you two were practically married already.

ꕤ it’s either both of you are bantering or play fighting one second, then all over each other the next. if ever you two have serious arguments, he’s usually the first one to apologize and ask how he can make it up to you. kaji is very mature that way, and is scared of hurting you, as he treasures you with all his heart (and body lol).

ꕤ has this habit of putting his lollipop in your mouth - just to see what you would do. loves the faces you make when you least expect it. thinks you’re so cute like that, but of course, will never admit it out loud. 

ꕤ when agitated, he calms down when you give him head pats and tell him that he’s a good boy. (double meaning i’m telling you)

ꕤ his love language is definitely quality time! he loves hanging around with you, walking home together, having deep talks in high places like a grassy hill or rooftop until the sun rises, listening to music together while you lean on his shoulder absorbing the sound from his headphones.

ꕤ your pet names for each other are lowkey insults like “idiot, dumbass, stupid” but affectionately. it became kind of like an inside joke between the two of you. he’d say the sweetest things, then pair it with a completely opposite word, like “it’s because i love you…you fool.” and you can't tell whether he wants to fight you or if he wants to kiss you. 

ꕤ kaji likes having collaborative playlists with you. doesn’t matter if you two don’t have the same music taste, since he’s always curious about what you’re listening to. sometimes sneaks in a few hidden messages using song titles in his playlists, for your eyes only.

ꕤ during the cold season, he lets you slip your hands in his hoodie pockets, embracing him from behind, like he’s your natural heat pack.

ꕤ when sleeping together, he’s a (literal) freak in the sheets. a blanket and pillow hogger, takes up more than half of the bed, ends up in the strangest sleeping positions, and at times accidentally pushes you until you end up on the floor. 

he definitely does not mean it though, if you hug him or hold him tightly while sleeping, there’s a higher chance he’ll stay still.

ꕤ when not on the bed, kaji likes to take naps on your lap or your shoulder, because according to him “it’s comfy and soft. like a pillow”

ꕤ lets you hold his valuables - lets you wear his hoodies, lets you hold his headphones, lets you drink from his bottled water, and even lets you suck on his lollipop (the one in his mouth okay but maybe also sometimes the one in his pants asdjbjdjcnd;;) but only you are allowed, because you’re special.

ꕤ you had to learn basic first aid because kaji always ends up with many injuries after fights, and gets angry at anyone who tries to touch him or disinfect his wounds, except for you. (soft!kaji *sighs* the effect you have on him aaaa) 

ꕤ makes a barrier with you in his arms whenever you’re passing with him in a crowded or busy street, to make sure no one bumps you or gets too close to you, to keep you safe.

ꕤ kaji is naturally such a good kisser, but claims he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. he tells you it’s just because he’s eaten a lot of lollipops, so he probably practiced unknowingly with his mouth and tongue. (help this is so funny)

ꕤ so many awkward and cute moments, that makes you love your little idiot ren kaji more and more each day (if that’s even possible) 

accidentally bit your hand when you fed him food. (from that day on, woke up to the realization that he might have a little bit of a biting kink)

once tried to do a kabedon on you like you two saw in one film you watched together but ended up tripping a bit, landing on top of you and squishing you.

there was a time he asked for love advice from hiragi when you two started dating, and umemiya ended up eavesdropping on them, and kaji ran away so fast as if he saw a ghost (ref: ch 58 kaji-senpai lol)

forgot he was wearing his headphones with music on full blast and broadcasted a little too loudly about how much he missed you because “you were gone on your trip for so long” and he “wanted to kiss your annoying face” all in front of his giggly vice captains, who of course heard every single thing he said. you made sure to tease him a lot about it afterwards.

© kajibunny 2024 / all rights reserved

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 17 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley loved settling in to a new routine with Rose at home. Taking care of you and the baby felt natural. If the most stressful thing he has to deal with was her godfather, then he counted it as a win.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, swearing, DILF Roo

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"Here are your books," Bradley said softly as he carried his daughter around her nursery to her bookshelf. "And here is your crib." She blinked up at him and yawned, and he broke out into a smile. "And here's the chair from your grandparents where Mommy is going to feed you so you can take a nap."

You were standing in the doorway with both hands on Tramp's collar while he whimpered nonstop. "He's not going to rest until he gets to sniff her again," you said, fighting to hang onto him. "And lick her, and roll around on the floor next to her."

"Fine," Bradley said with a sigh. Tramp just spent twenty minutes losing his mind over the baby, but apparently that wasn't enough. Bradley sank down onto the floor with Rose in his arms, and she stretched her fists up toward his face and gave a soft cry. She looked adorable in the outfit your parents bought for her, and his heart clenched like always when he imagined how his own mom and dad would have reacted to being grandparents.

"Here he comes," you said, releasing the collar, and Tramp bounded the rest of the way into the nursery, whimpering and shaking with excitement. He licked the top of Rose's head, making her cry in the process before he started sniffing her hands.

"For fuck's sake," Bradley grunted, trying to coax Tramp to sit down while Rose curled up against his chest. "He's more excited about the baby than I am."

Carefully you sat next to him on the soft rug that looked like a cloud in the airplane nursery, kissing his cheek before you said, "Don't swear in front of the child."

He rolled his eyes. "She can't understand it yet."

You gave him a pointed look. "Don't make me take away your privileges."

Bradley opened his mouth to ask what you meant, but he was immediately silenced as you pulled your shirt over your head and got ready to feed Rose. "Shit," he muttered, wondering how the fuck he was going to last six weeks with your tits in his face and zero chance at intercourse. "I'll behave."

"While Rose eats, I think we should talk about a few things," you whispered, taking her into your arms with a smile and kissing her cheek before getting her situated.

Bradley pulled Tramp onto his lap, doing his best to keep him from loudly sniffing his human sister and making her cry again. Bradley watched you fidget with your leggings around your waist. "What's wrong? Are you uncomfortable?" he asked while you fed Rose.

"No," you muttered, not looking at him. "My body is like a deflated balloon."

"Baby Girl," he whispered, leaning in to kiss your ear softly. "You're only a few days postpartum. You birthed an entire person. And you look beautiful. You always will."

He gave up his quest to keep Tramp at bay and let the dog lick the baby's foot as you started crying. "I think my hormones are going insane again," you sobbed, and he wrapped one arm around your shoulders and helped you hold Rose with the other. "And I'm really tired."

"I know," he whispered, peppering your face with kisses. "That's why I'm sending you and the Nugget both for nap time as soon as she's done. Now let's talk about what you want to talk about."

"Right," you said with a sob, like you had forgotten all about it. "My parents aren't going to stop bugging until I tell them when they can come visit."

Now that the attic was available, Bradley didn't mind having them in the house all that much. "Since I'm taking the next week off, why don't you tell them to come out the week after that? So you can have some help when I'm on base?"

"That's a good idea," you said as you carefully maneuvered Rose to your other breast. "We also need to give Rose a godfather." Bradley closed his eyes and pictured literally anybody but Jake. "And I was thinking Jake."

He heaved a weary sigh. "Of course you were," he grouched as Tramp finally calmed down and curled up on the floor. You looked at Bradley without saying a word, and he rubbed his eyes with his fingers. Hard. Jake was a fucking pain in the ass. He always has been, and he always will be. But... he took care of you when Josh tried to assault you while Bradley was deployed. And Jake was the one he turned to when he had a panic attack about getting himself killed before he got to meet his daughter. Jake even graciously promised he would look after you and Rosie and finish building the playset if something happened to him. And he never gave Bradley a hard time for any of it.

"Fuck. How the fuck is this my life?" Bradley groaned, sprawling out on the floor with Tramp and staring at the ceiling.

"What did I say about all the swearing, Roo?" you scolded, but when Bradley focused his gaze on your face, you were smiling. "Does that mean you're okay with Jake?"

Bradley looked at Rose and then back at you. "Yeah," he rasped while wincing.

"Perfect. We can tell him when he stops over tomorrow."

"He's coming over tomorrow?"

"Yes. With Cat and Jeremiah," you said, wiping Rose's lips with a burp cloth as Bradley sat up again.

"Let me hold my Nugget to help ease my pain and suffering."

"You're so dramatic. It's not like you'll suddenly be related to Jake," you said with a laugh, literally flaunting your tits as you stood up. "I'm going to call my parents and then take a little nap as long as you've got her?"

Bradley looked at his daughter as she curled up in his arms. "Yeah. I've got her," he promised, and you kissed him before you left the nursery. 

"We're going to take a little walk," he whispered, picking up the burp cloth that you left on the chair. Bradley carried Rose through the house, marveling once again at how tiny she was in his hands as he tried to burp her. Then he slipped out the sliding glass door to the backyard as he said, "This Jake thing wasn't my idea. You heard your mother. She's got some weird ideas sometimes, but I love her too much to tell her no. So let's set some rules. Under no circumstances are you ever allowed to think your godfather is funnier than your old man, okay?"

Rose simply yawned as Bradley sat down on one of the swings, cradling her.

"Exactly. He's a snoozefest. I totally get the yawning." He pressed his lips to her cheek. "And when you're old enough to talk, I need you to tell him that your godmother is way cooler than your godfather. If you agree, then don't say a word."

Bradley moved the swing slowly as she snuggled against him and silently closed her eyes. "That's my girl," he whispered, keeping her warm against his body in the early spring sunlight.

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

When you woke up, your body was sore, and your stomach was growling. You didn't know what time it was, but your breasts hurt enough that you thought perhaps it was time to feed Rose again. You climbed out of bed and froze as you reached for your glasses. Something smelled good. Familiar. Your stomach rumbled loudly as you whispered, "Surely not."

Rose's door was closed when you walked down the hallway, and you found your husband in the kitchen, working in front of the stove.

"You're cooking Marry Me Rooster!"

He looked up at you with a bewildered expression on his face, like a deer caught in headlights. "I am," he replied, voice hoarse. "I've been training over facetime with your mom for months, but this is my first time actually trying it."

Your heart swelled with love as you took a step closer to him and your grandmother's recipe sheet, but he held up a hand and shook his head.

"I think it's best if I give this my full attention," he said, eyes wild as he turned back to the stove. "But maybe you should have the fire extinguisher handy just in case."

You backed slowly away from him, hand covering your mouth to try to keep your laughter in. Excitement bubbled inside you knowing you'd get to eat one of your favorite dinners tonight. Bradley was pretty good at cooking now. He could pull it off. Probably.

Your daughter's cries started ramping up in her nursery, and you had a visceral reaction to it. "I'm coming," you called out, already pulling your shirt over your head as you walked inside. The fact that she even looked adorable when her face was all scrunched up in tears was concerning to you; Bradley would be unstoppable with spoiling her.

As soon as you scooped her up into your arms, she quieted down. Her weight against your body was calming as you rocked her in the chair while you fed her, and you weren't surprised at all that Tramp was sitting at your feet with his eyes glued on the baby.

"Just wait until she can walk," you told him. "The two of you will be besties, terrorizing everyone else."

You heard some loud noises in the kitchen followed by Bradley's voice. "It's fine! It's all fine!"

"I'm kind of concerned," you whispered to Rose, running your fingers along her little bit of fuzzy hair. "But Daddy learned how to cook just for you and me. We are already spoiled."

To your surprise, dinner was mostly good. The kitchen was completely trashed, and Bradley looked like he just ran a marathon, but the food was edible. It even tasted good, if not a little bit on the salty side.

"I am so impressed, Roo," you said with a smile. He was holding Rose to his chest with one hand and inhaling the pasta and chicken.

"I wanted you to have something special. It's nowhere near as good as yours though," he mumbled with a shrug around some bites. "But it's okay. I'm kind of hoping Cat will bring food with them when they stop by tomorrow. She knows how to cook like you do. Jake and I would have probably starved to death by now."

He set his fork down to run his knuckle along Rose's cheek as you started to clean up the dishes. "I thought it was wonderful," you whispered. "Nobody else ever cooked just for me before."

That made him smile. 

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

Bradley intended to write in the Nugget notebook while the events from the hospital were still fresh in his mind, but he passed out in bed as soon as you did. Rose cried three times overnight when she was hungry, and he realized he was actually quite useless when it came to that scenario. All he could really do to help was burp her. By the time he was making breakfast, you looked absolutely exhausted.

"That was kind of a rough night," he said while trying so hard not to burn the toast.

"I think that's just how nights are going to be for a while," you replied with a yawn as you carried the baby around.

Bradley spread some of the avocado concoction he whipped up onto the perfectly toasted slice of overpriced bread that you liked, and he took Rose from you so you could have a break.

"Thanks," you muttered before biting into your breakfast. "It's still so strange that you're the one cooking now."

"Oh shit," he said in delight as he kissed his daughter. "I almost forgot."

"Stop swearing!" you called as he walked outside to the garage where that fancy baby carrier thing was. 

He'd been using it to lift weights, training for this very occasion. He snatched it up and took it back in the house where he set Rose down on the couch to fasten the straps around himself. "Look at this!" he said, slipping the baby in against his chest. You were shaking your head and finishing your toast as he paraded around wearing Rose.

"You're so adorable, Roo."

"It's not me. It's the baby." He looked down at her cute face where her cheek was squished against his chest. "Can't get enough."

You wrapped your arms carefully around him, turning Rose into a sandwich as you ran your fingers through the hair along his temples. "You are such a DILF, Bradley. Gray hairs and heart eyes for your daughter."

"Stop," he groaned, turning to kiss your wrist. "Do you have any idea how hard it's going to be for me to not fuck you right now?" Someone knocked on the front door and he gave you a look. "What time did you tell Jake and Cat to stop by?"

"Tonight," you replied, heading across the living room. "It couldn't be them."

Bradley was relieved to see Maverick when you opened the door. "I'm not staying," he said as you invited him inside with bags in his hands. "I just wanted to see this little one for myself and drop some things off." He shook Bradley's hand and then just stood there with his hands on his hips, watching Rose slowly fall asleep in her carrier. "My god," he whispered, eyes shining with tears. "A brand new Bradshaw."

"Do you want to hold her?" you asked him, already reaching for the carrier. But Maverick shook his head.

"No, let her sleep. I'll come back one day with Penny and Amelia. We'll bring pizza. Just let us know which night is good." He looked up at Bradley, cuffing him on the shoulder as he said, "I wanted to be one of the first to say congratulations. Your mom and dad would have been overjoyed."

"Thanks, Mav," Bradley whispered, tears in his own eyes now. "I'm kind of obsessed with her, so I know my mom would have been as well."

Maverick shook his head, still giving Bradley's bicep a squeeze. "Your dad would have never shut up about having a granddaughter. That's a fact."

Bradley pulled his godfather in for a hug before he left with the promise to return later in the week when he was invited. Then he kissed the top of Rose's head as you rummaged around in the bags that had been left behind.

"Penny seems to have gone a bit overboard with groceries," you muttered, pulling lunch meat, bread and some chicken breasts from one of the bags. "Oh! A bottle of pink champagne!"

"Put it in the fridge," Bradley said. "I'm going to need a drink after you tell Jake he'll be the Nugget's godfather."

You rolled your eyes and dug around in a gift bag that was overflowing with tissue paper, and you gasped as you pulled out two stuffed animals. They simply looked like birds, but when Bradley took a step closer, he laughed. 

"Mav really bought Rosie a plush goose and a plush rooster."

You had a bright smile on your beautiful face as you examined them. "He's quite the joker, but these are so cute. I'm going to put them in her nursery."

"After that, you should go take a nap," Bradley said, swaying slowly from side to side with his hand resting on the back of his daughter's head while she napped. "This little girl is sound asleep, and I can do a few chores with her in the carrier."

You gave him a look that would usually mean he was getting lucky later, but that was off the table right now. When you walked past, you kissed Rose's hand and then his cheek before you said, "Make sure you chill the champagne. We can have fun later."

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

Jake, Cat and Jeremiah arrived with balloons, boxes of diapers, meals in tupperware containers, and a lot of excitement. 

"You didn't have to bring all of this," you said as Jake stacked things up inside the front door.

"Yes, they did," Bradley muttered, taking a peek in the food containers. "There's a casserole and a lasagna."

"You literally just ate dinner," you told him, handing Rose over to Cat who was practically vibrating with excitement. But Bradley wasn't listening as he followed the very inquisitive two year old boy around the living, making sure he didn't get hurt chasing Tramp.

"Why do babies smell so good?" Cat asked as Rose squirmed a bit in her arms. "So fresh and clean."

You didn't even get to respond before Jake squeezed you tight and said, "Congratulations, Angel. You mated with Bradshaw, and somehow the baby turned out cute."

"I would say something," Bradley retorted from next to the couch, "but I'm not allowed to swear in front of children."

Jake snorted. "I'm just messing around."

"Hey, I'm going to take him outside to play on the swings for a bit," Bradley said, scooping Jeremiah up before he could yank on Tramp's tail.

You gave him a pointed look and nodded toward Jake. "Don't we have something we'd like to ask him first?"

Bradley's smile turned into a bit of a frown. "No. I don't think we do."

"Bradley!" you scolded, and he tipped his head back with a groan.

"Fine. But I'm not saying it."

You pinched the bridge of your nose as you turned toward Jake. "Bradley and I would very much like for you to be Rose's godfather. If you're interested."

The words were barely out of your mouth before Jake had you flush against him in a bone crushing hug. "Wooo, boy. Godfather to a Bradshaw? We do live in some wild times, don't we, Rooster?"

Bradley muttered something incoherent while you asked, "Does that mean you're interested?"

He released you and turned toward Cat. "Please pass the godchild to the godfather. I'm about to make this baby an offer she can't refuse."

"She's a burrito! Not a cannoli!" Bradley called out from the sliding glass door before heading outside with Jeremiah.

"Is Phoenix her godmother?" Jake asked softly while holding Rose and supporting her head.

"Yes," you replied, in awe over how careful he was being.

"You realize that spells complete disaster, right?"

"Sure," you agreed. But you'd never seen anyone hold someone else's baby with quite as much respect as Nat and Jake held Rose.

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

Bradley played with Rose on the couch with an episode of Real Housewives of New Jersey on in the background. "You see what happens when you marry for money?" he asked his daughter as she wrapped her fingers around his pinky. "Sure, you get a Lamborghini out of the deal, but you also get arrested for tax fraud and embezzlement." He kissed her forehead. "Don't do that, okay?"

She cooed softly, and he took that as a sound of agreement.

"I'm ready."

Bradley glanced up to see you fresh out of the shower wearing the robe that Nat gave you. "I'll bring her right in," he replied.

"Grab the champagne, too."

He did exactly as he was told and handed the baby to you where you sat in the glider chair in the nursery before he carefully opened the bottle. The sound startled Rose, and she started crying hysterically. Bradley was on his knees in front of the chair instantly, kissing the top of her head. "I'm sorry, Nugget. That was way too loud."

"I think she's getting hangry, too," you mused, loosening the sash of your robe so you could feed her. And once again, Bradley was just captivated by all of it and so in love. He took a long sip of the pink champagne before offering you the bottle. "I can only have a little bit."

"I know Sweetheart, but it's your favorite." You had milk beading on your nipple while you fed Rose, and Bradley watched you lick your lips before handing the bottle back to him. He groaned softly, dizzy from all of it. 

"This is so fascinating," he whispered, taking another sip before setting the bottle down. When he reached out to touch your breast, you let him. You felt warm and heavy, and he took your milk onto his thumb and licked it clean.

"You know..." you whispered, switching Rose to your other side. "After having alcohol, it's probably a good idea to pump some of my milk to make sure she doesn't get any of it."

Bradley sat up a little straighter, willing to get you anything you needed. "Want me to set up the pump?"

"Nah," you replied, shaking your head. "I haven't gotten the hang of it yet, but I'm sure there's another way you can help me." Your graceful fingers stroked Rose's cheek as the milk drunk baby started slowing down. "When she's finished, it's your turn."

Bradley jumped to his feet as soon as Rose started to drift to sleep. "I'll get cleaned up and meet you in bed," you whispered as he took the baby from your arms. He deftly changed her diaper and got her zipped back into her sleeper before setting her in her crib.

"How about you sleep more tonight?" he asked. "Give me a chance to play with Mommy before she's too tired? I like her tits, too."

He could hear you laughing down the hallway. "I can hear you through the baby monitor!" you called out, but Bradley had no shame. He kissed his daughter one last time before turning on the night light and the ceiling fan, and then he was on his way to you.

When he stood in the doorway, you were sitting in bed with your robe open. Soft light from your lamp was making every curve of your body look irresistible to him, and now that he had you alone, he knew he was going to struggle.

He made a desperate sound as he ran his hand over his face. "Baby Girl," he whined. "I want you so bad."

"Come here," you coaxed, rubbing the spot on the bed next to you. He was there in an instant, sitting with his back against the headboard as you crawled into his lap. As soon as you nudged his shorts with your knee, he swallowed hard, saliva pooling on his tongue at the sight of your milk dripping from you and onto his shirt.

"Oh, shit," he whispered, letting you get yourself comfortable before he wrapped his arms around you. "It's my turn?"

You ran your fingers along his scarred cheek and back through his hair. "Your turn," you whispered, lips ghosting against his as he throbbed for you.

Bradley took your breasts gently in his hands, ran his thumbs along your nipples and rubbed his nose between your tits. Then he let himself taste you to his heart's content.

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

Roo is living his very best life, other than potentially seeing Jake more frequently. Hopefully Nat will balance that out for him. Grandparents are coming to visit soon! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 18

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[tightjeansjavi]

Forsaken, Forgotten Without Any Love

A/N: PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. THIS FIC IS VERY DARK AND MAY BE TRAUMATIC FOR SOME READERS. PLEASE READ EACH INDIVIDUAL WARNING BEFORE PROCEEDING TO READ. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CHOOSE TO CONSUME. Thank you to my pookie @syd-djarin for betaing and the beautiful moodboard <3 this is for my June writing challenge lovers to enemies

word count: 15.3k

Summary: you and Joel Miller met in the springtime. You were as naive as a fawn, and he was a ruthless guard dog. You were willing to do anything to survive, and he could offer you protection for the exchange of your body and whatever else he wanted. The mutual understanding you had worked…until it didn’t.

Pairing | dark!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: ‼️DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT‼️GRAPHIC NON/CON, HEAVY COERCION AND MANIPULATION, VERBAL ABUSE, THREATS, TRAUMATIC VIRGINITY LOSS, CANON TYPICAL VIOLENCE, GASLIGHTING, MISOGYNY, GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF WOUNDS, LANGUAGE, IMPLIED AGE GAP (READER IS OF VOTING AGE WHEN THE OUTBREAK HAPPENS), SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, THANATOPHOBIA (FEAR OF DEATH AND DYING) MENTIONS OF GUNS/KNIVES, SEX IN EXCHANGE FOR PROTECTION, NO HAPPY ENDING, HEAVY, HEAVY, HEAVY ANGST & GRAPHIC THEMES, readers nickname is little fawn, +18 MINORS DNI!

We met in the springtime when blossoms unfold. The pastures were green and the meadows were gold. Our love was in flower as summer grew on, her love like the leaves now have withered and gone.

Forsaken - abandoned or deserted

When you and Joel Miller first met after the world had gone to shit, and the home you once knew was no longer, it was springtime in the Boston QZ. The name Joel Miller rolled off the tongues of many residents of what remained of Boston. But who was Joel Miller really? Just another survivor haunted by the looming shadows of his past? A man hardened by loss, grief, and indescribable pain? Or was he more than just his brute strength, quick tongue, and menacing stature?

You never intended to find out what laid beneath his defensive façade, but like most things, it all happened…unexpectedly.

“I can’t.” You whispered solemnly through the drenched fabric of the bandana secured around your face. A makeshift mask to help with the constant stench of rotting flesh, death, and charred bones. It was one of the many grueling jobs the QZ had to offer, but it was not meant for those with a weak stomach as you learned very quickly.

He turned to you, a ghost of a scoff painted on his cracked and dehydrated lips. He barely acknowledged your presence with a slight roll of his shoulders. His piercing brown eyes hardened on your face, and then the culprit of your reason to bother him. A child, wrapped in a dirty cloth to be discarded with the rest of the dead infected, lay in the open bed of the truck, face covered completely.

When you opened your mouth to speak again, perhaps an explanation as to why you couldn’t dispose of the adolescents body, Joel Miller let out a grunt, brushing against your shoulder rather roughly. His arms tucked under the child’s limp corpse, lifting it from the bed of the truck with ease. He felt nothing, no remorse, not a lick of empathy washed over him.

“Move.” He snipped unkindly.

Your jaw went slack at his harshness, teeth grinding down and catching on the sensitive flesh of your inner cheek causing a burst of copper to ignite on your tongue. You stepped off to the side, body working on autopilot at this mystery man’s gruff command.

Joel could have shown that his latent Texas gentleman manners were not completely buried. He could have, but he didn’t. Instead he marched past you, carrying the corpse to the nearby pit. He paused, looking straight ahead with a dull expression on his face before he dropped the corpse from his arms and into the smoldering flames below.

He walked back to the truck where you were left dumbly standing looking like a lost lamb in all of this surrounding death. He wiped the dirt and grime from his hands with an old rag that was sticking out of the worn denim jeans that clung to his thighs like a vice. “Jus’ a word of advice, don’t let anyone around here know your weakness. They’ll tear you apart before you even see ‘em coming.” His unmistakable Texas twang reminded you of home, a simpler time when the world was normal and each day was promised, or so you used to believe.

“Thank you.” You nodded, reaching your hand out as an offering, an extension of friendship that sent his right eye twitching at your meekness.

“Ain’t a reason to thank me. Didn’t ask for it.” He eyed your outstretched hand suspiciously, eyes narrowed and brows tightly furrowed across his forehead.

You frowned, unable to conceal your immediate reaction to his denial of your kindness. Despite the world fucking ending, and your own losses, you were softer than most, and that made you an easy target. You were as soft as salt water taffy melting on someone’s tongue. Or the gooey center of a charred marshmallow on a stick. Joel Miller wasn’t accustomed to someone of the likes of you. You were foreign, something taboo—too soft for his liking. How the hell you managed to survive the cordyceps outbreak was beyond him.

He didn’t even give you the chance to respond when he abruptly turned on the heel of his steel-toed boots, and stalked off in the direction of where the ration cards for the day's work were being distributed. He staggered at an angle that looked mildly uncomfortable, especially in his lower back, and you could see that he favored his dominant side based on his gait. The words you planned to present to him died in your throat. You couldn’t help but feel miffed by his dismissal, but all the more intrigued to know what this grumpy, guarded man was really all about.

-

Every resident in the QZ had their means to get by in life. Some kept going for family, others for power and brutality—authority above all. Some were like Joel Miller; holding little value to their life, and spending their days drinking like a fish, and popping smuggled pills to alleviate the constant emotional and physical pain that they carried like a heavy burden on their shoulders. As for you? You simply were just trying to get by unscathed. Death terrified you, haunted you even in your dreams. Your survival was purely based on luck, with little to no survival skill sets. It was a fucking miracle that you had survived this long on your own.

That’s why you were the perfect candidate to join the elusive Fireflies. Marlene sought you out one evening before curfew in the QZ’s makeshift community circle. It was an open space sheltered between two buildings where residents could converse freely for a short period of time. Marlene and the Fireflies had one goal in mind; to overthrow FEDRA and liberate all of Boston’s QZ residents from the government's cruel and unjust authority.

Marlene could sense that you were weak minded and naive the second she laid eyes on you from across the way. The way you nervously fidgeted with your fingers in your lap, glancing around every so often as if you had something to hide. You stuck out like a sore thumb, the ugly duckling in a sea of normal…people.

The chair adjacent from where you were sitting scraped along the concrete like nails on chalkboard and your posture immediately stiffened at the sudden intrusion. Your invisible safety bubble had been popped, and there was nowhere for you to hide.

“Easy, friend.” Her tone was a complete juxtaposition to Joel’s innate harshness. Marlene’s eyes were kind, soft in the low light of the slow setting sun. You felt like you could immediately trust her, and maybe even view her as an ally? “Mind if I sit?” She gestured to the chair across from you, the same chair that dragged across the concrete and made you alert in the first place.

You eyed this stranger warily, glancing around before you meekly nodded, not finding your words quite yet. Marlene pulled up the chair, sitting down quietly with her forearms resting against the table in a casual motion.

“So.” She started, “you’re fairly new to the QZ, aren’t you?”

“…yes, how did you know?” You weren’t aware that you were sitting across from one of FEDRA’s most wanted, and the leader of the rebellious group known as the Fireflies.

“Sweetheart, I have eyes and ears all over the QZ.” She gestured to the surrounding area with her hands in emphasis.

“Really?” Your eyes widened slightly in shock and for a moment you were questioning whether you should get up and leave, or wait to hear what this woman had to say. “Are you…FEDRA?”

“No, not FEDRA.” She shook her head, reaching her hand out across the table in your direction, “I’m Marlene, leader of the rebellion, and commander of the Boston QZ Fireflies.”

Fireflies. You had heard the hushed whisperings of the ‘terrorist’ group that was at war with FEDRA. Sometimes there were calculated bombings, planned attacks, all for the cause of liberation and justice for the QZ residents—so you had heard.

You reached for her outstretched hand, giving it a gentle, yet firm squeeze before retracting your own hand back to your lap. You’re just about to tell Marlene your name, when your attention is stolen by something-someone. That someone being Joel Miller. He wasn’t alone. A woman walked alongside him, and from the angle you were sitting at, you could see his hand resting protectively against the small of her back.

His eyes were looking ahead, not behind or the area surrounding him. He was intently focused even as his companion leaned in close to him, her lips moving but you couldn’t make out the words. His chin dipped towards her, thick fingers flexing against that sliver of skin between the top of her jeans and the hem of her shirt.

You found yourself transfixed by his subtle movements, his natural authority permeating the small space. No one even dared to look directly at him, no one except you. He could feel a pair of eyes burning into the side of his face and he clenched his jaw tightly, cocking his head in the direction of the last empty table before he nudged his companion in that direction.

Marlene had said something to you, but you didn’t hear her the first time because you were frozen in your seat when Joel Miller’s piercing glare landed upon your face. He scowled, grinding his teeth together. He recognized you, that was a fact. But just as quickly as you had his attention for a fleeting moment, it was gone and he had sauntered off, taking the seat across from his partner.

Marlene watched the whole silent exchange go down from her seat. She observed your body posture intently, brow raised in curiosity. She leaned forward over the small expanse of the table, tone low, almost at a whisper, “do you know that man?”

You shook your head, meeting her curious gaze. “No—I mean, not really. He…sorta helped me out the other day though. I don’t have a strong stomach in the slightest and—”

An incredulous look crossed her face immediately to hear that Joel Miller ‘helped’ someone? She called bullshit immediately.

“Joel Miller did you a favor? That’s unlike his character. Only good thing that man has ever done is introduce me to his brother.” Marlene said almost bitterly.

So, that was his name. Joel Miller.

“He has a brother? Is he in the QZ as well? I guess…maybe it wasn’t a favor necessarily, but in my eyes it was.”

She nodded. “Yes, his brother's name is Tommy. He’s in Wyoming now. Tommy, like myself, was a firefly and Joel…he wasn’t too keen on his brother joining a rebel alliance. I tried to get him and his partner, Tess, to join our cause as well, but they wanted nothing to do with it. So, Joel and Tommy had a massive falling out, and Tommy left the QZ shortly after.”

“Marlene, when you said that the only good thing Joel has ever done is introduce you to his brother, what did you mean by that exactly? Is he…dangerous?”

“Sweetheart.” She started, almost in a patronizing tone, “he and Tess are the kinda folks you don’t want to associate yourself with. If you’re not careful, you’ll get caught up in their web. They ain’t good people. Did a lot of bad things before they ended up here. Killed a lot of innocent people and now they practically have FEDRA wrapped around their finger…most days.”

You mulled her words over in your head, falling into a silent thought of determining whether Joel Miller was who she said he was, or if he was more than just his past. You imagined he, like most of the surviving population, did what he had to do to keep himself and his kin alive. How could Marlene judge him for that?

“You tell me to look for the light, and I’ll break your jaw.”

His low, menacing tone rumbled like thunder in the distance, and the person he was addressing immediately scampered off into the shadows like a dog with its tail between its legs.

“Marlene, I mean no offense by this, truly, but didn’t everyone have to kill innocent people at some point to survive?” You couldn’t help but question her logic and reason to judge.

“Let me reiterate what I mean by that. You know what raiders are, don’t you?”

You nodded.

“Well, Joel and Tess were raiders at one point. Tommy as well, but Joel was the driving force of their operation. He was ruthless—still is.”

All you were hearing from her words was that Joel Miller was a capable man. More capable than most. He had a history of violence, and whether that was solely for the means of survival, or because he was a murderous, blood thirsty psychopath, did not concern you in the slightest. Joel Miller was exactly the kind of man that you were looking for. The kind of man that would lay down his own life for yours. The kind of man who would tend to your wounds, and then rip your enemies apart limb from limb, and then come home to you drenched in their blood; a badge of his conquest at exacting revenge.

Joel Miller was the type of man who would ensure your own survival above all else.

“If it’s protection you’re looking for, the Fireflies can offer you that.” Marlene interjected after you didn’t initially respond to her previous statement.

You chewed on your lower lip, gnawing on it for a moment feeling vulnerable and exposed when Marlene was easily able to read between the lines. You thought you were more discreet than that. More guarded, not a weak minded damsel in distress.

“What makes you think that I’m looking for protection?” You quipped back, opting to lean into the defensive side, rather than admit that you were in fact seeking just that.

Marlene stifled a laugh, briefly catching the attention of Joel from across the way. “You’ve been on edge since the moment I sat down. You stick out like a sore fuckin’ thumb, and I’m surprised that you haven’t realized sooner that you’re practically a fawn in the midst of a pack of wolves.”

Marlene was right. She hit the nail right on the fucking head. You weren’t cutthroat like Joel. You survived this long purely based on dumb fucking luck. Not because you were skilled with a weapon, or had fists of steel. You were not violent in nature, you had only killed when necessary, and you stayed hidden when trouble arose; much like a fawn in the dense thicket. Marlene didn’t need to know that you were seeking protection, that every night you lay awake fearing death and ending up pitifully alone; unloved.

“You don’t fucking know me, or what I need.” You hissed, finally finding your voice and standing your ground. You pushed your chair back abruptly, the bottom of it scraping on the concrete, and catching the attention of everyone in the secluded, intimate space.

Marlene shrugged at your defiance, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest. She may have not been successful in this first attempt, but she got under your skin, and that was only the start of it.

Unbeknownst to you or Marlene, Joel had silently eavesdropped your entire conversation, growing stiff suddenly when he picked up on Marlene’s little ploy to manipulate you to join the Fireflies. You may have been a nobody, bare bones and all, but he’d be damned if another naive soul would end up wrapped and constricted in Marlene’s web of empty promises and lies.

Preventing you from joining the Fireflies was about to become Joel Miller’s personal vendetta, and you hadn’t a fucking a clue. As far as he was concerned, the only person in this entire shithole QZ who would ever get close to sinking their talons into your flesh, was himself.

He watched you storm away from the table, your fists clenched tightly at your sides. You feel someone’s eyes locked onto the back of your head, but you didn’t dare turn around to see if your assumptions were true; you just knew.

~~

The following morning you and the rest of the QZ residents were required to attend a public execution before work would begin for the day. Three individuals were sentenced to death for breaking curfew, and attempting to leave the QZ without authorization. The three guilty perpetrators stood in a row, their faces covered with a cloth loosely draped around their heads so they could not be identified.

As the charges of the crimes that were committed were read out, you could feel your knees grow weak, and nausea bubbled deep in the pit of your stomach. Could you be next?

Joel Miller was in the crowd as well, concealed and aloof, but you could sense his domineering presence immediately, and he could sense you as if he was like a moth drawn to a flame. He imagined you couldn’t stomach the prospect of a public execution, and his assumptions were true when he saw you slipping between bystanders and fleeing towards the nearest alley.

He was quick to follow you, feeling more intrigued than anything when you scurried away like a little mouse. He took his time as he was in no rush, and well—there was nowhere else for you to go. He shoved his hands deep within the caverns of his jean pockets, his footsteps were heavy and calculated when he turned the corner to the alley.

You were waiting for him with your trusty pocket knife armed at your side, whipping around to face whoever had left the crowd to follow you. Your teeth were barred as if you were a cornered animal ready to attack if provoked.

He slipped his hands out of his pockets, holding them up so that you could determine that he wasn’t an immediate threat. His dark pools of brown locked onto your face and his head was slightly cocked to the side. “Easy there, little fawn. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” He rasped.

You took a shaky inhale, palms beginning to sweat and your grip around the worn hilt of your knife began to slip from the clamminess. You took a timid step back, closer to the impending brick wall behind you. “Yeah? I’d believe that if you—”

“If I what?” He challenged, taking a step closer to where you stood.

“If you didn’t follow me here like a goddamn stalker, Joel!” You half yelled.

“Hey!” He snapped calmly, “easy. Don’t wanna be drawin’ any unwanted attention to ourselves, do we? And for the record, I do believe that you were the one stalkin’ me the other night.”

“Excuse me? I—I don’t even know you! Why the hell would you think I was stalking you?!” You took another step back, the hem of your shirt just barely grazed against the exposed brick wall.

“Oh, so that wasn’t you sittin’ with Marlene?” He questioned you dryly, shaking his head with a grin tugging on the corner of his lips. “It wasn’t you prying for some information on me? Guess I oughta go get my eyes and ears fuckin’ checked then…oh, wait! Can’t really do that, huh?” He scoffed, crossing his arms against his chest.

Who the fuck did he think he was?

“If I’m not mistaken, it sure as hell sounds like you were the one spying on me.” You quipped back, nearly stumbling when the heel of your boot made contact with the brick wall; now he had you trapped.

“No, you are mistaken. M’jus’ a real observant guy. Plus, sniffin’ out a snake in the grass like Marlene ain’t rocket science. She give you her whole ‘liberation’ for all bullshit?”

“I don’t know, Joel. Did she?”

He looked amused by your response, not expecting you to bite back so fast, but at least now he knew you had a little gumption to work with, but instead of indulging you in your insignificant win, he danced around the subject to catch you off guard.

“That’s a pretty dull fuckin’ knife you got there, little fawn. Ain’t gonna do much stabbin’ with it lookin’ like that. When’s the last time you got it sharpened?”

You did not appreciate, nor like how he effortlessly changed the conversation on you in a blink of an eye. You glared at him, struggling to hold your ground when he was nearly on top of you, one step closer and his chest would be pressed against yours.

“I think it’s more than capable of doing a considerable amount of damage to you if you don’t back the fuck up in the next five—”

“Yeah?” He pressed, looming over you like a shadow blocking the sun, “I’d love to see you try.” He snarled.

And well, you did. A pitiful attempt that he immediately saw coming. It took nothing for him to overpower you as if you were a helpless bug beneath his steel toed boots. The knife was yanked from your grip, your wrists pinned in one of his large hands like a dart on a board. His eyes were a shade darker up close and they were locked onto you.

“Now I understand why Marlene wanted you in the first place.” He snickered, “you really are that fuckin’ gullible.”

“Y—you don’t know shit about me! You think you do, but you don’t!” You tried to push against his chest, but he was like a slab of concrete or an unmoving mountain.

“No?” His eyebrows quirked upwards in amusement. Toying with your fragile mind and now wounded ego was easier than he imagined. “Think you’re wrong, little fawn. You’re pretty damn readable, and that ain’t somethin’ that you want to deal with ‘round here. You might actually be the most transparent person in the entire fuckin’ Boston QZ.”

“W—why are you calling me that?”

“Because, you remind me of a fawn. You’re meek, quiet, and…naive.”

You wanted to yell and scream till you were blue in the face, but what was the point? Marlene saw right through you, and so did Joel. Maybe…you could use this to your advantage, somehow.

He backed off you then, dropping your wrists from his grip and gave you the space to breathe finally. He flipped your dull pocket knife over a few times, brushing his thumb against the unsharpened steel with a light scoff and subtle roll of his eyes. “You can’t even kill a clicker with this thing. You realize that, right? What was your plan if someone else followed you back here, huh?”

He was making your head spin, all this back and forth bantering, and him getting under your skin was becoming too much. Why the hell did he care, anyway? Did he always prey on the weak minded? Or did you just happen to become his unfortunate target?

“I didn’t really…have a plan.” You said quietly under your breath, taking a moment to rest your head back against the cool brick wall.

“Good god, girl. You didn’t have a fuckin’ plan of action?! You really are a damsel in distress.”

“I am not a damsel in distress! You’re just some asshole that clearly has nothing better to do except prey on the weak minded! So, how about you just go pick on someone your own size!”

“So, you agree that you are weak minded? Yeah, Marlene sure as fuck would have had you wrapped around her fuckin’ finger and indoctrinated into her fuckin’ terrorist cult.”

“Sounds like you have a fucking problem with Marlene, and not me.” You attempted to walk away for good, but his palm reached out to stop you, pressing flat between your breastbone, leaving you both feeling surprised.

“Relax, would ya? I see right through your little tough girl gimmicks, and so does everyone else. I also happen to know that you, my dear, are terrified. It’s written all over your pretty face, and of what exactly? I can take a few educated guesses, but I think I’ve already humiliated you enough for one day.”

You were stunned into silence. Pacified by his words and the weight they held over you.

“Yeah, that’s what I fuckin’ thought.” He concluded. The rational part of his brain was telling him to ease off and let it fucking go. Hell, maybe you wouldn’t fall into Marlene’s trap after all. The other part of him? Well, you can just imagine how it was telling him to proceed with tormenting you. “If it were anyone else that followed you back here, they would have the means to hurt you. And I don’t mean just by killing you, little fawn. You think that just cus’ we’re under the governments ‘protection’ that evil people ain’t just roamin’ around here freely lookin’ for their next meal?”

“Yeah? And are you one of those evil people, Joel?” If he was gonna go for your jugular, you were gonna go straight for his.

“Might be.” He shrugged indifferently. “If I had the means to hurt you, I would have already done it.”

He did make a fair point. He was a capable guy, and if he had ulterior motives to cause you harm, you would surely be dead already. Still, you were weary nonetheless, but also intrigued.

“Okay, so you don’t have the means to kill me and that’s great, Joel. I’m relieved, but I’m failing to understand…why did you follow me back here in the first place?”

“Because, little fawn, I have exactly what you’re looking for, what you need. No reason to lie to ourselves here, right? Especially when I’ve already got you figured out. You can deny it all you want, but I know a terrified person when I see one. You ain’t gonna last long lookin’ like a fuckin’ target to every passerby.”

“And what exactly do you think that I need, Joel?”

“Protection.” He stated simply.

“And what's in it for you?”

He thought about coming up with a lie, something that sounded convincing so you wouldn’t question his motives, but he chose the latter in the end.

“Means that Marlene doesn’t get to sink her fuckin’ claws into another naive person such as yourself. Less Firefly scum for me to deal with, and you’re too pretty to end up with a bullet between the eyes.”

Maybe it was the way that Joel Miller was looking at you like you were about to be his next meal, or maybe it was the fact that no one had ever called you pretty before. This guard dog of a man was the first person to ever truly take in your physical appearance, and man, did that feel fucking good.

“You think I’m pretty, do ya?” Your tone came out teasingly, mildly playful, and not what Joel was expecting from you at all.

“Christ.” He laughed, “is that really all you fuckin’ got outta what I was jus’ sayin? That I think you’re pretty? Don’t let that feed your little ego now, alright? That‘ll get you killed, too.”

You wanted to tell him that no one ever called you pretty before, but that felt too personal, too vulnerable. So, instead, you shrugged your shoulders and raised your brow suggestively in his direction. “I heard you loud and clear, Joel.”

“Good. Cause I ain’t gonna repeat myself.” He glanced around the secluded alley for a moment, mulling his thoughts over before he returned your knife to you with the blade facing downwards. His rough, calloused fingers brushed against your own when he returned the hilt of your knife to your palm. “For starters, let’s get that pathetic excuse of a knife sharpened.”

You nodded, tucking it back into your concealed holster around your waist. “Lead the way, Miller.”

He looked you over once more, brows tightly furrowed together, shoulders stiff before he turned on his heel and started to walk towards the opening of the alley. “Hurry up, little fawn. We ain’t got all day.”

You had just secured yourself your very own lethal guard dog, claws and all.

~~

Up until this point, you hadn’t thought about the prospect of Joel Miller wanting to fuck you. In your mind, he truly was just inviting you to his shitty little apartment to sharpen your knife and send you on your way. You were beginning to believe that his little fear tactic in the alley was just his bark, but you were about to experience his bite very, very, soon.

He said no more than a few words to you, a few grunts here and there when you ended up rambling because you finally had someone to talk to. He acknowledged your existence, and that was good enough for you to at least be seen.

“Do you always talk this fuckin’ much?” He gruffed out from where he was hunched over at the kitchen table, dragging the edge of your knife along what appeared to be a large, flat stone.

“Sorry.” You muttered under your breath, sinking further against the old, musty couch that had seen far better days.

“Thas’ better.” He mused.

A man of few words…unless he wants something.

“It’s getting late…I should probably head home before curfew. Can we pick this back up again tomorrow? FEDRA is gonna start patrolling soon and—”

He looked up from where he was focused on dragging the edge of the blade at an angle against the stone to gradually sharpen it. The glare he sent your way immediately had your blood running cold.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually that fuckin’ naive to believe that my generous services are free of charge, little fawn.” He tsked under his breath, shaking his head in disappointment.

Maybe you were the naive one to follow the wolf right back to his den.

Your eyes widened, fists clenching at your sides when the realization that you willingly followed this…stranger back to his apartment hit you and sent the warning alarms in your brain blaring immediately.

“I—I have ration cards.” You meekly responded.

He cocked his head to the side, lips curving upwards into a wolfish grin. “My god.” He chuckled, “you really are that fuckin’ naive, huh? You think I’m doin’ this because I’m a good man or somethin?’”

“Well, you said that you—”

He rose from the chair then, the hilt of your freshly sharpened knife clutched at his side. His eyes stayed locked on you as he staggered forward, coming closer to where you were sitting on his couch.

“And you really believed in every word that came out of my mouth?” He questioned dryly.

“I—I didn’t see a reason not to, you said that if you wanted to hurt me, you would have already done it.”

“You’re right, little fawn. I would have already hurt you if those were my true intentions, but you’re so foolishly naive to believe that I’m doin’ this out of the goodness in my heart.”

You were frozen on the spot when he stopped at the edge of the couch, bending down to meet your eye level, towering over you in such a menacing way, you truly thought right then and there that this man did lie to you, and you were going to die at his hand. Your body flinched on instinct when one of his big palms came to rest against the wall alongside your head, while his occupied hand that was still grasping your knife stayed glued to his side.

“I—I don’t have anything else I can offer you, Joel.” You met his gaze, trembling when he leaned in closer.

“Don’t tell me now that you’re truly jus’ beauty with no brains, sweetheart.” He cooed softly.

Your lips parted open in shock as you began to read between the lines of the words coming out of his mouth. He didn’t want your ration cards, he wanted you, and not just a piece. He wanted all of you.

“There she is.” He preened, “Knew you weren’t all that dumb. Those gears in your pretty little head finally turnin’?”

You wanted to bite back, to snap at him so that you wouldn’t feel so fuckin’ small, but he had you locked in a trance right where he wanted you, and deep down…you liked it.

“…you want me?” You whispered through the thick growing tension.

“Mhm.” He nodded in confirmation. “You didn’t think that I just said you were pretty without havin’ some ulterior motive in mind, did ya? You’re the one who decided to trust me so easily. The second I confirmed that I didn’t want to hurt ya, you wrote me off as a good man. Well, sweetheart, I hate to break the pretty picture you painted of me in your head, but I ain’t a good man. I don’t have the means to hurt you, but I have every intention to take what I fuckin’ want from you.” His forehead was nearly pressed against yours now, hot breath fanning your face. “Jus’ remember that you willingly followed me back to my apartment, and take this as a warning to not be so easily swayed to trust a fuckin’ stranger.”

You swallowed the lump that was gradually growing in your throat as your flight or fight instincts were in full swing. You briefly eyed your knife in his hand, thinking that maybe…you could get out of this, but he would be quicker, surely. He’d overpower you in a heartbeat.

“I’m a virgin, Joel. Are you sure you still want me, knowing what you know now?”

He stalled briefly, caught off guard by your admittance. He thought that maybe this was your cheap way of trying to get out of this situation all together, but based on your trembling, and overall demeanor, he could tell you weren’t lying and he took some satisfaction in knowing that he was about to be your first; completely his.

“You think thas’ gonna stop me from wantin’ to fuck you, little fawn?”

You shook your head quickly and pressed yourself as far against the couch as you possibly could. “No—no, I—I just wanted you to know.” You squeaked out.

He nods, flipping your knife in his hand a few times while his other hand slowly drops to rest against the crown of your head, “if anythin’, it makes me want to fuck you even more now. Can take whatever I want from you, and make you mine. How’s that sound to you, hmm?”

“Can you…promise me it won’t hurt? I’ll—I’ll do whatever you want, Joel.”

Whatever I have to do to live another day, I’ll do it. Keep me alive, and you can take whatever you want from me.

“It’ll hurt a little, sweetheart. Better me than anyone else. I’ll only be gentle till you’re adjusted. After that, I ain’t gonna hold back.” While his words were blunt and straight to the point, his tone was soft, gentle even.

“Okay. I trust you, Joel.”

“Good. Thas’ good to hear, little fawn.” He gently dragged his thumb against your hair, feeling the texture of it beneath his hold, and how if he truly wanted to, he could crush you like a bug beneath his hand.

Your hands worked on autopilot to reach for the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head, fingers shaking against the fabric.

He shook his head, brows raising in slight amusement. “No.” He rasped sternly, “I’m going to undress you. Hands off, and keep ‘em where I can see them, got it?”

You nodded, dropping your hands to rest along your jean clad thighs.

“Wanna show you just how sharp I got your lil’ knife now. Can cut through just about anythin’, I reckon.” He mused, secretly hoping to ease your impending fears just enough that your body would naturally begin to relax.

You took a shuddered inhale when the edge of your freshly sharpened knife rose and rested against your concealed breastbone, sending your heartbeat racing and rattling out of your chest like a stampede.

“Relax.” He whispered, careful to not apply too much pressure, but just enough that the blade easily cut through your flimsy top as if it was made of cheap paper. “Ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

Your words were lodged in your throat as tears began to spring to the corner of your eyes. You couldn’t help it, you were terrified. One wrong move…

“Joel…please.” Was all you were able to get out. His hand that was gently resting on the crown of your head dropped down to gently cradle your face. His big thumb brushed directly under the tears leaking from your eyes, gathering them up with a soft sigh.

“If you listen to me and relax, this will feel good for you, little fawn. You jus’—gotta let me have my fun first, alright?”

You let out a silent sob, squeezing your eyes shut tight as you tried to wrap your mind around how this could possibly be fun for him. “This—this is fun for you?”

His nostrils flared, reminding you of one of those animated bulls from the old cartoons you used to watch as a kid on Saturday mornings. He let out a sigh, grinding his jaw and shaking his head. “Course this is fun for me. I told you already, little fawn. I ain’t a good man.” He carelessly yanked the scraps of your shirt down your arms and torso before he dragged the knife upwards towards your flimsy bra straps. “Only reason I’m choosin’ to be somewhat merciful on you is because you’re a virgin. If you weren’t, I would have shoved my cock so far down your throat, you’d be chokin’ on it, sweet girl. Gonna save that for another time.” He reassured you.

“I’d…prefer if you never did that.” This was your weak and fruitless attempt to try and gain any semblance of control in this situation.

“You ain’t in the position to be callin’ the shots on me. Keep it up, and I won’t be so fuckin’ nice. I’ll stuff your pretty little virgin pussy with my cock like you’re a fuckin’ pig on a spit.” He snapped. “Secondly, I’d prefer if you’d quit your yappin’ and start makin’ yourself useful by takin’ your jeans off—nice and slow for me. Make it last.”

“But you said—”

“Know exactly what I said, sweetheart. M’changin’ my mind, we clear?” He sternly asked while he sliced through one of the bra straps, watching with hooded eyes as it fell from your shoulder.

“Crystal.” You shakily reached for the button on your jeans, slowly undoing it followed by the zipper while he sliced through the other strap.

“Good girl.” He praised you, “you’re a fast learner. Thas’ real good, little fawn. That’ll keep you alive longer.”

“Thank you…sir.” You whispered, feeling your tears begin to dry on your cheekbones when you slowly began to shimmy your jeans down your thighs.

“Mmm…no.” He scoffed at you calling him sir. “Not sir. Jus’ call me Joel. It’s gonna be the only name you’re gonna be sayin’ for as long as I decide you’re worth keepin’ around. Best start gettin’ used to the way it tastes on your tongue.”

“Yes, Joel. I—I understand.”

He was kind enough to help you finish removing your jeans completely so you were left in just your cotton panties that were well worn. A touch of innocence could be found on the little faded pink bow right in the middle of the hem. His lips quirked at this, finding it endearingly…cute.

What remained of your bra fell away in pieces, the clasp old that was old and frayed, came undone easily. Now your breasts were bared to him for the first time. He liked that they weren’t magazine perfect, nothing like he had seen in his teenage to young adult years. They were natural, beautiful, and you.

“I know they aren’t—they aren’t anything special…” you trailed off, moving your arms up to cover your chest.

He shook his head and reached one hand out to stop you from covering them from his perfect view. “They’re beautiful. M’glad they aren’t perfect like the shit I would find in the old playboy magazines.”

“Really?…thank you, Joel.”

He didn’t acknowledge your gratitude and his eyes trailed southwards once more, right between your thighs. “Thought about cuttin’ these off, too.” He casually gestured to your panties, “But I think I wanna keep ‘em as a souvenir.” He mused with a wicked grin. “Don’t go all shy on me now, alright? Spread your thighs, sweetheart.”

You obeyed his request, your thighs falling open to his prying eyes. “You want to keep my panties as a souvenir?”

“Mhm.” He reached behind him briefly to set your knife down along the coffee table so both of his hands were free. You watched as he slowly lowered himself onto his knees between your spread thighs. “You won’t be needin’ them when you’re here, anyway.”

Before you could respond, his warm palms came to rest along your hips where his thumbs gently dipped beneath the hem of your panties and slowly began to peel them down your thighs. “Can’t remember the last time I had the pleasure of tasting virgin pussy.” He chuckled. “Been too goddamn long.”

“I thought most guys weren’t into eating…pussy.” It was your turn to giggle now, and Joel was secretly relieved that you were finally relaxing.

He slipped your panties down your ankles making quick work of stuffing them into the back pocket of his jeans. “What makes you say that, sweetheart?” He shifted his hands from your hips to rest between the apex of your thighs, spreading you open further at his leisure.

“Well, uh—before the outbreak, I had a boyfriend, and all my friends at the time told me that I should ask him to go down on me. I didn’t know what they meant at first, so my friends and I bought a porno from an adult film store to watch, and then shortly after I asked my boyfriend if he would go down on me, he said fuck no.”

Joel laughed, a real hearty laugh that sent a warm vibration and tingle creeping up your spine. He used his thumbs to spread your inner lips apart before he peppered kisses against the inside of your thighs, inching closer and closer to the seam of your pussy. “No offense, sweetheart. But your boyfriend sounds like he was a fuckin’ tool that didn’t know the first thing to pleasin’ a woman and makin’ her sing, and for that reason, I hope he got infected.”

Despite the gravity of the situation you found yourself in, it felt good to confide in someone and laugh about the past. “I hope he got infected, too.”

The tension flipped once more when Joel’s darkened pools of brown flickered up from between your thighs. His hot breath was directly fanning your exposed core, and you watched as he licked his lips. “I take a lot of satisfaction knowin’ that I’m gonna be your first for everythin’, little fawn. You belong to me, your tight virgin cunt belongs to me. Jus’ want you to understand what that means before I defile you, piece by piece.”

You found your words lodged in your throat when you felt Joel Miller’s hot, wet, and skillful mouth press directly against your clit. His thick, dark lashes fluttered shut, and a groan bubbled from deep within his chest. He was immediately a man starved at the first taste of you. Lathing his tongue through the seam of your pussy as if he was a cat lapping up warm milk. And once he got a taste, he couldn’t stop, and you didn’t want him to.

“Sweetest fuckin’ virgin cunt I’ve ever tasted, little fawn. Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you’re like honey.” He rambled on, slurping and obscenely sucking on your sex. He meant it when he said he was going to defile you, and this was just the beginning.

Your fingers naturally found themselves tangled in his salt and peppered streaked curls. They were softer than you ever imagined them to be. And in that moment, when your orgasm rippled through you like a tidal wave, and your pussy drooled along his tongue, you were grateful that he at least took the time to make you feel good first.

But like most good things, it passed just as quickly as it came when he pulled his mouth back from your cunt, a translucent strand of his saliva mixed with your release hung from his lower lip like a thread from a spider's web. The strand reached all the way to your glistening clit and disappeared when he licked the taste of you from his lips.

Your cheeks felt hot to the touch, and there was a sheen of sweat coating your skin when he reached for his belt and began to unfasten it. That’s when the fear began to creep its way back in.

“Joel, do you think that maybe we can—”

“No.” He gruffed out over the sound of his belt buckle clanking open, and his zipper being yanked down in a haste.

You could see just how hard he was through his worn down briefs, and when you finally got a first glance at just how thick and large his cock was, you were immediately trying to clamber off the couch. There was no way he was going to fucking fit.

He let out an annoyed growl, one hand quickly darted out and grabbed your ankle with a roughness that immediately had you yelping in surprise. “Do not fuckin’ test me, or I will really fuckin’ make this hurt for you. Do I make myself absolutely clear?” He glowered, tightening his steel like grip on your ankle. “Get back to how I had you spread open. Don’t make me ask you twice.”

Only when you reluctantly abided by his request did he loosen his grip before releasing your ankle completely. He rose to his full height, kicking his jeans and boxers off to the side as his heavy cock bobbed between his thighs. “Try anythin’ funny again, and I’ll bend your ass over this fuckin’ couch faster than you can say stop.”

“I’m sorry, Joel—I didn’t mean to upset you I’m just—”

“Afraid?” He mused. “Yeah, I gathered that. But I told ya that it’s only gonna hurt a little. All you need to do is relax for me. Thas’ it, and the pain will only be temporary. I promise, little fawn.”

He leaned over you, grasping your thighs in his hands and molded your body exactly how he wanted to take you so that he could easily wedge himself between your thighs. Now your back was against the side of the couch, the arm rest acted as a makeshift pillow for your head while he wrapped your legs around his hips for support. “Missionary is gonna cause ya the least amount of pain, but after today we ain’t gonna play it safe anymore.”

“Joel, can we please—I’m not ready for this. There has to be someone else that I can offer you…right?” You glanced down between your thighs, right where his thick cockhead was lined up at your tight opening. There was a drool of arousal that pooled and dripped down from the seam of your puffy and stimulated pussy right into the already soiled fabric of the couch.

“You jus’ don’t fuckin’ quit, do ya? I’m about five seconds away from fucking you like you’re just a piece of meat. Do you really want that, little fawn? Do you want me to fuckin’ hurt you? Is that it? You’re so goddamn lucky that you didn’t get captured by a group of raiders who would take turns gang raping you, and ripping you apart like a fuckin’ ragdoll. Show some fuckin’ gratitude for the fact that I’m not like them.” He hissed between his teeth. “You are mine. Get that through your pretty little brain sooner, rather than later.”

“You’re not going to fucking fit! There’s no fucking way that you’re going to fit without ripping me apart from the inside, Joel!” You cried out, fists clenched so tightly at your sides, that your blunt nails were digging into your skin hard enough to draw blood to the surface.

“I sure as fuck ain’t gonna fit where you’re so fuckin’ stiff. Ya don’t want it to hurt, d’ya? Well, more than it’s already gonna. Jus’ relax for me. That’s all you gotta do.”

It did fucking hurt. It felt like you were being ripped apart seam by seam when he slowly started to press himself inside of you. Your body seized up around the intrusion, clamping down on his cock like a vice as tears began to leak down your cheeks again.

“You gotta let me in, little fawn. Or so help me god, I will fuckin’ force my way right into your tight little virgin cunt.” He growled out of frustration, wanting this part to be over already because that very minuscule part of him felt bad for what he was doing.

“I—I can’t, Joel! Please! It hurts! You’re hurting me!”

He let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping forwards and his forehead came to rest upon your own. His hand that wasn’t wrapped around the base of his cock came to gently rest upon your cheek, a moment of tenderness that sent your mind reeling. “I ain’t tryin’ to hurt you, little fawn. Please jus’ relax. Take a deep breath in and out. Focus on this instead, alright?” He dropped his hand from your cheek and slowly slipped it between your parted thighs so his thumb could gently thrum your clit. “Focus on how good that feels, and not my cock splittin’ you apart and takin’ what’s mine.”

Maybe you were the masochist, and he was the sadist. The mixture of pleasure with pain was something you never had experienced before, and when your body finally began to relax and let him in fully, that’s when you finally understood what he meant earlier about the pain only being temporary. It was numbed the second he started to piston his hips into you, stretching you open more and more with each heavy and calculated thrust. His thumb stayed glued to your clit, rubbing you in steady circles to keep your stimulation present in your mind.

He did defile you, piece by piece. Taking and taking while you continue to give and give. You want to be good, you want him to like you, to want you because if he does, maybe he’ll keep you around. Maybe he’ll fuck you again, protect you, keep you safe, and maybe you’ll never have to live in fear again.

Sometime after Joel had fucked you till he felt satisfied and spent, you passed out on his couch purely from exhaustion. He didn’t tend to you right away. He didn’t kiss your forehead, and he certainly didn’t kiss your lips. He left you there, stained in his cum and completely ruined for anyone else. That’s how he intended to leave things, but his need to care and tend to you ultimately won when he appeared from his bathroom with a wash rag in hand. His footsteps were soft as he padded into the living room and knelt beside you as you slept. In comparison to earlier, his movements were very tender as he gently spread your thighs apart so he could wash between them.

You stirred only slightly, mumbling in your sleep when the wash cloth gently dragged across the seam of your pussy and everywhere in between. And even after he was finished he sat there for hours in a deep contemplation over his decisions. He was a complicated man, with conflicted feelings driven by grief and loss. And that was the reason for his unkindness. His ability to remain aloof and cold. He just couldn’t wrap his head around the notion that someone as innocent as you, had survived the cruelty of the world for this long.

~~

Your relationship with Joel Miller, or lack thereof, turned into a mutual exchange. He offered you his protection, and you offered him your body and some semblance of control. It was his driving force, after all. To feel like he was in control of his life and the remaining frayed threads of it. The more times he fucked you, the more you began to enjoy it. You liked his meanness, and he liked how compliant you were. It was simple, no emotions tied up and he could simply just be.

Sometimes you did talk, and other times he just took what he wanted. You were like his personal punching bag, his means to get his frustrations out through having you beneath his sheets, molded however he saw fit.

Tonight was one of those nights.

“Yeah, thas’ it, little fawn. You can take all of me. Know you can.” He huffs out a hot puff of air against the shell of your ear. His broad shoulders, hard chest paired with a soft stomach, cage your softer frame like a protective shield. He’s drilling into you from behind, strong hips are flush against the soft curve of your ass, where he’s molded the shape of your body into the old, squeaky mattress. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through his tiny apartment, and your mind begins to grow hazy, consumed with pleasure, and him—Joel. He’s got you right where he wants you, where he can take, take, take, and you’ll give, and give, and give. The heady stench of sex, sweat and Joel swarms your senses like bees in a hive. He drinks in the wet, familiar sound of your pussy squelching around his cock, dragging him in further like a never ending vice.

He paints your insides with hot ropes of his seed, spending himself completely before he’s collapsing on top of you, drenched in sweat. His cock pulses inside of you for a few seconds longer before he draws his hips back and sits back on his thighs, resting his weight along his forearms as he catches his breath.

You lay flat on your stomach like a limp fish while you catch your own breath. He has your attention when you feel his hand gently curve around your ankle and you immediately roll over onto your back, silently begging him with your eyes alone to let you breathe a little longer. “I can’t go another round that fast, Joel. I need to catch my breath.”

“I wasn’t gonna suggest that, sweetheart.” He rasped softly, stroking your skin gently with the pad of his thumb. “I was—uh, gonna ask if you were hungry?”

You blinked a few times, trying to understand if you were hearing him correctly. Was he…offering you a meal? Did hell freeze over?

“Oh.” You couldn’t help but smile a little. “Yeah…I am a little hungry.”

Maybe he’ll ask you to make him a sandwich, hah!

“I ain’t got much to offer, unfortunately. But I think I got a couple cans of Chef Boyardee and some stale bread?” His cheeks are flushed from exertion, but there’s a hint of nervousness in your tone. It’s not like he said he loved you, he was just offering to feed you.

“Oh, man. That guy was great!” You sat up on your elbows watching his lips begin to curve upwards into a half grin from your enthusiasm.

“I actually agree.”

You ate in his bed, sitting across from one another in comfortable silence. Your knees were lightly touching, but neither of you seemed to mind the closeness. He even offered you the last half of his bread and you felt your heart swell at his selfless gesture.

A dog only bites when provoked. Maybe your guard dog was growing soft for his little fawn.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” He asked suddenly, breaking through the comfortable silence like a knife.

“Of course you can, Joel.”

He was never good at this sorta thing; talking about his feelings and emotions. He swallowed his last bit of food before reaching across to set both of your empty plates on the nearby nightstand.

“What are you gettin’ out of this? And don’t lie to me or try to give me some bullshit.”

“You make me feel safe…and protected.” You murmured softly, looking directly into his eyes for the first time that entire night.

He scoffs, gnawing on the inside of his cheek with his canines, “I ain’t a fuckin’ charity service, or your knight in shining armor.”

“You’re right, Joel. You aren’t. And that’s okay. I don’t need you to be either of those things. But—you’re all that I want, all that I need.”

His face softens slightly, that permanent frown between his brows and pout of his lips is almost not so permanent before his scowl returns.

Deep down in that black pit of his heart, he wants that too. To be relied on, wanted, needed. He likes that what he has with you is something that he doesn’t have to fight for. He could get all of this and more from Tess, but she always challenged him and wanted more. She would lay her life down for his own and he hated that. He was the type of man that would rather lay his own life down in the place of someone else. He valued his life very little at this point, and here you were acting like he had done something monumental by keeping you safe, fucking you, and providing you with a meal.

“Joel, can I ask you something?” You interjected through the silence, hoping that he wasn’t upset with your honesty.

“Depends what it is that you’re about to ask me, little fawn.”

You want to reach out and grab his hand, to feel his fingers lace through your own. You wanted him to hold you and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. You were his, but only under his terms. He wasn’t yours and he would never be. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t inclined to try and break through his nearly impassable walls that he had laid down himself, brick by brick.

“Why do you wear that watch on your wrist…if it’s broken?”

He froze like a deer in headlights as his ears began to ring, the blood rushed in his veins and his heartbeat began to race. His fingers twitched at his sides, and by the way his eyes began to darken, you realized very quickly that you had crossed a boundary. He didn’t speak, he didn’t even scold you. He ignored you completely and threw his legs over the side of the bed and snatched up the two discarded plates.

“Never fuckin’ ask me that again.” He muttered in the doorway, his back facing you and you could only see his side profile before he stomped off towards the kitchen.

Moments later you heard the sound of the plates breaking in the sink, one by one. You had never heard him sound so…violent before. He was yelling, but you couldn’t make out the words he was saying. He might have been crying at one point, but you didn’t dare investigate.

Only when you could no longer hear his pained yells, did you finally reach for your discarded clothes and quickly redressed before tiptoeing out of his bedroom. Your plan was to slip out the front door of his apartment undetected and never look back.

That plan went to shit when you stumbled upon the massacre in the kitchen and a broken man standing amongst shattered plates and shards of glass. He looked defeated, unmoving amongst the wreckage. His hand was trembling as small droplets of blood dripped from the open wound on his palm, the same hand where his broken watch was strapped to his wrist. The crimson droplets landed on the scuffed up floor beneath his feet. He heard the floorboards creak beneath your weight and he whipped around, eyes rimmed red from his incessant, crestfallen tears.

“Where the fuck are you goin?’” He croaked out, his voice sounding like it had been rubbed raw with sandpaper.

“Home?” You didn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but even you couldn’t determine exactly why you were trying to leave.

“Did I say you could leave?” He took a step towards you, somehow avoiding the stray shards of glass.

“N-No…I just thought that—”

“Yeah?” He questioned, cocking his head to the side as he observed your timid demeanor. “Well, unthink that. Please.”

He was…asking you to stay? Not only that, he said please?

“You’re bleeding.”

He glanced down at his hand in surprise. He didn’t even feel the glass cutting through his palm or the familiar wetness from the blood dripping from the fresh wound.

“Let me patch it up for you, okay?” You took a small step forward in his direction while he wearily watched you. He brought his injured hand down to his side, holding it out of your reach.

“Are you going to stay?”

You nodded. “Yes, Joel. I promise I won’t leave.”

So, he chose to trust you and allowed you to touch him and guide him to the couch where he was forced to sit down while you rushed to the bathroom to grab his first aid kit. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling when you gently grabbed his hand and rested it palm side up on your knee and began to tend to his wound. He wasn’t capable of love, not after she died. He wasn’t capable of softness and kindness, not when he watched the light fade from her eyes, and yet he sat quietly under your soft touch and gentle eyes. You had become like his supply, a new addiction, a craving, a need that could only be satiated by you. It scared him down to his very bones.

The personal vendetta was long since forgotten and was replaced with his latent nature to protect and care for. You had given him that purpose again, and maybe he could do better and become a good man again because of you. Maybe you were the answer to it all.

And unknowingly, and unintentionally, you had tapped into his inner psyche, one soft touch and gentle gaze at a time. And he was beginning to believe that maybe he wasn’t better off being alone and forsaken, after all.

~~

When Tommy Miller hadn’t returned any of Joel’s radio calls for two weeks straight, Joel was facing a tough decision that he ultimately was going to have to make. His kin was out in bum fuck Wyoming, he could be dead for all Joel knew. Despite how rocky his relationship with his brother was, he was still family, and now Joel was going to leave the QZ and find his younger brother.

This was the beginning of the end of yours and Joel’s mutual understanding, and it was happening before your very eyes.

Tonight he was in a haste after fucking you for hours. Usually he would stay in bed, his limbs tangled with yours, locked together like two puzzle pieces. You learned that sometimes he liked to be the little spoon, but he would never ask, not verbally at least. He’d turn his back to you, reaching for your hands to wrap yourself around him. Tonight, neither of those things happened while you watched him gather up his discarded clothes, throwing on his briefs over his thighs and hips.

You sat up slowly, using the old sheet to cover your breasts. Your heart began to sink when he sat on the edge of the bed, revolver in hand and bullet cartridges in the other.

“Joel?…” you asked in an unsure tone. Would this turn into another one of his meltdowns? You had hoped that it wouldn’t.

“What?” He gruffed out, reloading the bullets one by one.

You recoiled at his tone, chewing on the inside of your cheek to try and distract your mind from assuming the worst was about to happen.

“Is everything okay?”

He sighed, rolling his shoulders forward as he finished loading the revolver and looked over his shoulder, refusing to meet your eyes and instead focused on the peeling wallpaper along the walls.

“Everythin’ is peachy, little fawn.”

Even he didn’t sound too sure of his words. You had been around him long enough to pick up on his changes in demeanor. Sometimes they were subtle, less easy to detect, but tonight it was clearer than day that there was something deeply troubling him.

“You’re acting really fucking weird, Joel.”

He laughed dryly and turned to face you completely. “That’s because I got something to tell you, but you ain’t gonna fuckin’ like it.”

Your face fell immediately and your loose grip around the sheets became tight, as if the fabric between your fingers was the only grounding source available in the vicinity.

“Please, don’t look at me like that. Like I’m about to break your heart or somethin.’” He sighed. “You can’t look at me with those—eyes.”

“Well, are you about to break my heart, Joel? Cause if that’s the case, just rip the fucking bandaid off already.” Your voice cracked, and tears were already threatening to spill, but you held them at bay.

“I need you to understand that I don’t have any choice in this, alright? Tommy hasn’t returned any of my messages in two weeks. It usually only takes him a day to respond, and he’s gone completely radio silent. I’m leavin’ the QZ as soon as Tess and I can locate a truck battery, and I’m goin’ to Wyoming to find him.”

He didn’t have any choice?!

“Joel, do you realize how fucking insane you sound right now?! If Tommy hasn’t responded in two weeks he’s probably—”

“Don’t you dare fuckin’ say another word, ya hear me?!” He growled, cocking his revolver and stood up abruptly from the edge of the bed. “You don’t get a fuckin’ say in this! You ain’t my family!”

His words stung, slicing your heart in a million tiny pieces from the venom dripping from his lips. Maybe this was the wake up call you needed. The rose colored glasses were beginning to lift, and the ship that you and Joel had sailed for so long, was finally sinking.

“You’re right, Joel.” You agreed with him. “I’m not your family. So, what the fuck am I then?”

He looked at you coldly, eyes narrowed into slivers. His jaw clenched and unclenched. He didn’t want to be having this conversation with you right now. He needed to focus on finding this damn truck battery and going after Tommy. But of course you just had to be fucking stubborn about the whole thing.

“You’re nothing but a goddamn liability.”

There was no emotion in his tone, just the cutthroat truth of what you truly meant to Joel Miller.

“You don’t mean that. You’re just trying to hurt me!” You tried to convince yourself that this man did care for you in a sense. That he thought higher of you than just someone he fucked, someone he held, someone he shared his meals with.

“Why are you makin’ this so goddamn difficult, huh? You want me to stand here and tell you that I love you?! That I care for you further than what our relationship is?! Would you like me to spell it out for you?!” He yelled exasperatedly, throwing his hands up in the air out of frustration.

He didn’t even flinch when you scrambled out from under the sheets, desperately reaching for your discarded panties and shirt. You felt more exposed than ever in front of him as hot tears flooded and rolled down your cheeks. The same cheeks he had tenderly held between his calloused palms.

“You’re practically…a prostitute.”

You reached for your own gun that was resting on the nightstand closest to your side of the bed, and once you had a firm grip on the base of it, you whipped around to face him, gun aimed directly at him, mirroring his own.

“How—how fucking dare you! I’m not a prostitute, Joel! We—we have a mutual understanding! That’s how it’s worked, that’s how it’s always worked!”

“Had.” He corrected you coldly, cocking his head to the side. “And mutual understanding?! You mean our exchange?” He laughed and shook his head, “you offered me your fuckin’ body, and in return I’ve kept you alive! That ain’t a mutual understanding, sweetheart. Thas’ an exchange of services.”

“So, the time that I patched up your hand, and stayed with you even though I knew I shouldn’t have, meant nothing to you?!” You were full on screaming now, seeing red through your blurred tears. “My kindness meant jack all to you, Joel?!”

“Don’t stand there and act so surprised! I told you from the get-go, I am not a good fuckin’ man! You made those choices, sweetheart! I didn’t hold a fuckin’ gun against your head and force you to stay!”

You laughed, throwing your head back slightly because you couldn’t believe how fucking delusional he was being. As if he ever gave you a choice in the first place?!

You took one bold step in his direction with your gun still aimed and at the ready. “Choice?! Oh, please enlighten me on what choice you’re speaking of when you never even gave me a choice in the first place, Joel!”

“I ain’t got time for this. It’s fuckin’ done, alright? We’re done and you’re just gonna have to find someone else to keep you alive, little fawn. You can be someone else’s liability!” In the midst of his yelling, he eyed your gun wearily, already mentally planning in his head how he was going to disarm you if you made the stupid decision to lunge at him.

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU, JOEL MILLER! I HATE HOW YOU HAVE MADE ME FEEL! DON’T YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO ME?! I—I HOPE THAT YOU NEVER FIND TOMMY. I HOPE HE’S DEAD, AND I HOPE YOU DIE ALONE, AND UNLOVED. I HOPE SOMEONE HURTS YOU THE WAY THAT YOU HAVE HURT ME AND—”

He wasn’t ready to admit just how shattering your words were. How it felt like someone had just ripped his heart out and tore it apart, piece by piece. But this is how he got by in life, by hurting those who he loved.

“I’m so fuckin’ relieved that you’re finally wakin’ up from whatever fairytale land you’ve been livin’ in, little fawn. There’s some hope that you won’t end up with a bullet between your eyes. Congratulations on joining the rest of society.” He muttered condescendingly. “Now, you’re gonna get that fuckin’ gun out of my face and go home, and you’re gonna forget all about me.” He deadpanned.

You did just that. He stood there just watching you quickly redress and tuck your gun into the waistband of your jeans. You strode past him, shoulder checking him on your way out.

“Careful. You might end up shootin’ your damn ass off.” He commented from the open doorway.

You didn’t have the strength to snap back at him. You felt broken, beaten, and defeated. He had taken all of you, and you felt like all that was left was your shell; withered and cracking away under his harsh cruelty and scrutiny.

You grabbed your backpack from the hook alongside the door and yanked the handle open, swinging it open loudly on its hinges. He waited till he heard the apartment door slam shut before he left his bedroom, padding quietly down the hall. He went straight to the door and locked it for good measure.

~~

When Marlene found you, you were in a drunken stupor after spending a day in lockup because you had stupidly punched a FEDRA officer in the face, oops. You traded a few ration cards for a cheap bottle of hooch, and proceeded to drink it in broad daylight in a deserted alley. It was nearing curfew now, and the bottle you had been nursing was completely drained and discarded by your feet. Marlene found you slumped over, covered in dried blood, vomit, and tears. You were curled up like a little fawn hiding in the thicket. She checked your pulse before you sputtered awake, lashes fluttering and eyes squinting through the massive hangover you were experiencing.

“M—Marlene?” You croaked out as you tried to wrap your drunken mind around how the fuck she found you here in the first place.

“He broke your heart, didn’t he? Told you he was bad news, sweetheart.” She sighed with a disappointed shake of her head. “Take my hand and we’ll get you cleaned up, okay?”

You neither confirmed nor denied her assumptions of why you were piss drunk in an alley. You simply reached for her outstretched hand and let her help you up from the ground. You were wobbly on your feet, like a drunk Bambi on ice, but she let you lean your weight entirely into her side.

A week later, you were officially a member of the Boston QZ Fireflies and under the direct protection of Marlene. If only you had known then that you had signed off on your own death certificate.

You were assigned to Riley’s position in the QZ mall making bombs for the Fireflies to use on an upcoming attack on FEDRA. When you asked Marlene what had happened to Riley, she cut right to the chase and told you that Riley had been bitten by an infected person. You didn’t ask for any further explanation, or where Riley had been bitten. Had you known that she was bitten in the mall, you would have begged Marlene for a different post instead.

When you proved yourself loyal to the Fireflies, Marlene decided that you were ready to be on the frontlines of the attack. Right in the midst of it. One of the bombs that you made with your own hands was about to be used in warfare; what a twisted turn of events.

~~

Tess Servopolous was having a shitty fucking day. After being jumped by a couple of Robert’s goons, and then finding out that he sold the truck battery that her and Joel needed, she was ready to go home and drink the whole thing off, when an explosion went off directly outside of the building that she, Robert, and two of his men were occupying.

She stumbled out of the wreckage, dazed and confused when she saw a FEDRA vehicle demolished and in flames. She squinted through the blinding sun when someone from a nearby rooftop yelled, “free Boston now, motherfuckers!”

And then, directly across the street, she caught a glimpse of you; Joel’s ex little fawn turned rebel scum. You were fleeing the scene just as FEDRA had shown up. Tess claimed she wasn’t a Firefly, but they threw her into lockup, anyway.

“He sold our battery to someone else, Joel.” Tess was sitting across from Joel in their shared tiny apartment. She had just disclosed to him that the men that had jumped her were with Robert, and she was in lockup all day. Joel was fuming.

“Who the fuck did he sell it to? That fuckin’ snake. Swear to god I’ll—”

“Joel, I need you to take a breath.” Tess said plainly, rubbing her sore temples with a sigh.

“I need that battery, Tess. It’s the only way we’re getting to Tommy and without it, we’re shit out of luck. He could be fuckin’ dead out there already for all we know. Where the fuck are we gonna find a battery now?”

“I saw her.” Tess said above a whisper to draw his attention.

“Don’t.” He warned her.

“Joel, I fuckin’ saw her! She’s—Firefly scum now. She was across the street when the bomb went off. She’s with Marlene now. She was fleeing the scene like a goddamn coward, too.”

It felt like Joel’s entire world was crashing down around him all at once. He hadn’t thought about you since your ugly departure from his apartment, but to hear that Marlene had sunk her venomous claws into you after all? He was furious, disappointed, and above all, he felt betrayed.

“You swear that you saw her?”

“On my life, Joel. It was her.” Tess would never lie. She had no reason to.

He swallowed the thick lump growing in his throat. It felt like hot bubbling tar was melting his insides away, melting the flesh from his bones and leaving him bare and brittle. He could taste the bitterness of betrayal on his tongue, and the dull ache in his heart. His fists clenched and unclenched, his brows furrowed tightly and his lips were in a straight, emotionless line. He looked across the table at his partner, giving her a slight nod of acknowledgment. “If I ever see her face again, I will kill her, Tess. I’ll make it hurt. I’ll kill her with my bare fuckin’ hands.”

He was a man of his word, but he was secretly praying that day would never come because he wouldn’t have the guts to do it. Not even after he promised Tess to her face that he would kill you. You were that weakness that he couldn’t shake free from.

“Good.” She nodded. “Now let’s go hunt that motherfucker down, and get our battery, our truck, and then we’ll go find Tommy, alright?” She reached for his hand that was clenched in a tight fist along the table.

“Alright.” He nodded.

Joel and Tess had a stash of weapons and supplies scattered about in different areas in and outside of the QZ. One of these areas included the boarded up mall, and this was Joel’s first stop. He had heard rumors sprinkled about that there were a handful of infected roaming the mall, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. He snuck into the building the same way he always did and retraced his steps purely from memory.

His confidence only began to waver when he approached the same door he had entered through over a dozen times and saw the unmistakable Firefly logo spray painted right across the frame of the door.

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath and withdrew his concealed gun before pushing the slightly ajar door open with his broad shoulder.

On the other side of the mall, you were dealing with trouble of your own. Why hadn’t you asked Marlene more questions about Riley’s death—specifically where Riley had been bitten. Would Marlene have even told you the truth?! You were beginning to question the Fireflies true motives when you overheard Marlene and a few others talking about taking this girl out west to be tested in a hospital. This wasn’t just any random girl; she was immune to the Cordyceps infection. She could possibly be the cure to save the world, but even you were smart enough to know that Cordyceps grow inside the brain. This poor girl was going to die, and you wanted absolutely nothing to do with it.

From that point forward you decided that you were going to sabotage Marlene and Fireflies plans. After setting off a bomb in the QZ, you fled back to the mall to dispose of the rest of the bombs you had made that week and then you were going to leave the QZ for good. It was supposed to be simple and go exactly as you planned it to, and it did up until the point when you ran into an infected person.

Your gun was knocked from your grip leaving you with only your knife for protection when the infected person shoved you against a nearby wall, knocking the wind from you. You fought like hell, stabbing wherever you could reach till the infected collapsed to the ground after you jabbed your knife directly into its neck before you sank down against the wall to catch your breath. Its body lay in a heap at your feet, blood pooling and leaking from the deep gash in its neck.

A few minutes later you heard a door nearby open and close followed by heavy footsteps. You scrambled to your feet, wiping your knife along your jeans and snatched up your gun that was on the floor a good few feet away. Your boots slipped in the puddle of blood and created a trail of crimson footprints. So much for remaining concealed.

Joel appeared shortly after you had taken off. He could smell the stench of blood and death permeating the air upon his approach. When he found the dead infected, he kicked it with the toe of his boot, checking to make sure it was actually dead. When the body didn’t move or twitch, he let out a brief sigh of relief before he noticed the trail of bloody footprints and followed them.

It didn’t take him long to find the room that you had been occupying. The trail of footprints had led him straight to another door and that’s when he noticed the fresh blood on the handle and proceeded with caution. When he pushed open the door, he expected to find a person on the other side but there was no sign of anyone. He was drawn to the table in the corner of the room where he recognized a plethora of materials used to make a bomb.

Jackpot.

He surveyed the small room with his gun still drawn at his side as he crept around. You were hiding in the supply closet which was an uncomfortable tight fit. You had no idea who the fuck was on the other side of the door, but you didn’t intend to find out anytime soon. Through the small gap in the metal closet, you were able to make out a pair of all-too familiar black boots.

No, no, no. Please. Anyone but him. Anyone but—

your foot slipped from the blood causing something from the top shelf of the closet to fall and cause a loud racket. Moments later the janitor closet doors were yanked open leaving you exposed. Joel didn’t see your face at first when he grabbed your arm and yanked you out onto the ground with his freehand.

You let out a yell, trying to claw at the man when he yanked you onto the floor. You scrambled to sit up, raising your arms above your head when he trained his gun on you. Your eyes simultaneously widened in shock. The masochist and the sadist together again.

“You have got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” He let out a scoff. “So, Tess wasn’t lyin’ huh? You really are…Firefly scum?”

“You are quite literally the last person I ever wanted to run into, Joel.” You hissed between your teeth while you were at his mercy.

“Well, sweetheart, that makes two of us.”

“Hilarious, I’m absolutely dying with laughter right now.” You rolled your eyes and he scowled at your sarcasm.

“Turned into a joiner just like Tommy. How fuckin’ predictable.” He shook his head in disappointment. “I promised Tess that I would kill you with my bare hands if I ever saw your face again, but…I can’t bring myself to do that, little fawn.” He lowered his gun slowly just as you began to lower your arms.

“You were leaving me behind, Joel. What—what else was I supposed to do, huh? Marlene found me in an alley, covered in blood and vomit because I had gotten my ass thrown in lockup after punching someone from FEDRA in the fucking face. I had nowhere else to go, no one to turn to, and Marlene offered me protection.”

“You punched someone from FEDRA in the face?” He couldn’t help but feel a little amused with this knowledge. “Never expected those words comin’ outta your mouth.”

“Yeah, well, things have changed, Joel. I did what I had to do to survive. I’m sure you think I did it to betray you, right? Not everything is about you. And even if that were the case, why would you even care, considering I’m just a liability in your eyes.”

“You’re right.” He stated simply. “I do think you did it to betray me, but clearly Marlene’s war ain’t goin’ to peachy with you fuckin’ it up. If I’m not the one to kill you, then I’m sure she’s hot on your trail already.”

“You’re probably right. After I set that bomb off I decided that I was fucking done with the Fireflies. I came back here to destroy the rest of the bombs and then I’m leaving the QZ tonight.”

“Wow.” His eyebrows rose in surprise and he couldn’t help the grin that slowly tugged over his lips. “Look at you havin’ a plan of action. I’m impressed.”

“And I take it you haven’t located that truck battery, huh? Man, that’s gotta suck.” You snickered softly.

“Watch it.” He snipped, “We ain’t friends or nothin’ and I still can kill you.”

You both fell silent as your emotions swirled like a dust bowl. You could only imagine the hate that could spew from his lips next.

“Did you…” he was referring to the dead infected that you had killed earlier.

“Yeah, I did.”

He took a deep breath, nostrils flaring as he observed you from where he was standing. “And you didn’t get bit, right?”

His question hung heavy in the air between you. You don’t remember if you were bit or not. It all had happened so fast—

“I—I don’t think so.” You were unsure as you slowly rose to your feet and that’s when he noticed your hand and the obvious teeth indentations in your skin. The same hand that patched up his wound, the same hand that wrapped around his middle when he wanted to be the little spoon.

“Oh Christ.” He whispered in disbelief, taking a small step back from you, his instincts kicking in immediately.

You looked down at your right hand, noticing the bite and the blood slowly leaking from the grooves in the indented marks. You quickly wiped the blood away, thinking that the bite mark would suddenly just disappear.

“No, no, no!” You yelled a broken cry, “I don’t—I don’t want to turn into a monster, Joel!” You continued to furiously wipe at the bite mark, growing more and more frustrated—afraid when it wasn’t going away.

His heart sinks and he doesn’t know what to do, or how to react. His eyes are fixated on the bite mark and what it means, and he isn’t sure how much time he’ll have left with you. The one thing that he does know for certain is that he won’t let you turn into a monster. He’ll make it quick, painless. You won’t feel a thing. It’s the least he can do for you after all the pain he caused. It’s really starting to hit him now, all the hurtful things he said. The cruelty he thrashed upon you. God, how could he do such awful things to someone like you?

“I—I need you to take a deep breath for me, little fawn, okay? Please. You need to calm down.” He tried to reason with you as he took a half step forward.

“Calm down?! You—” tears began to profusely roll down your cheeks when you faced your own realization that it was only a matter of time before you would turn into one of those monsters.

“I’m—I’m not going to let you turn into a monster, okay? I swear on my life, I’ll make it quick. You—you won’t feel a thing, okay? I’m so sorry—I’m so sorry that I’ve been nothing but cruel to you. I pushed you away, I forced you to leave. I’m the reason you joined the Fireflies. It’s all my fuckin’ fault.” He was struggling to hold his own tears at bay when he saw your body begin to tremble.

“Let—let me be till…my last breath, okay? Please, Joel. Can—can you do that for me? I’m—I’m so afraid.”

He nodded and slipped his gun into his holster. “Until your very last breath, little fawn.”

You slowly sank to the floor and despite every cell in his brain telling him not to join you, he ignored his instincts and found himself sitting alongside you.

“Will—will you hold me? I—I want one last comfort before my mind and body is no longer my own.”

How could he say no to your final request? He knew it was risky, and the Cordyceps were already laying their claim inside of your body. “Of course I will.” He whispered softly.

You slipped into his arms as if they were made for you, and he held you close, resting his chin along the top of your head.

He told you about his daughter Sarah and how he closed himself off to all feelings after she died. He told you that she died in his arms on his 36th birthday and that he wore the broken watch on his wrist because it was her birthday gift to him. He was wearing it when she died, and the bullets ripped through her body. A stray bullet had pierced the glass on the watch and her time of death would forever haunt him.

The last words you spoke to him were of forgiveness, and the last touch you felt from him was his lips pressed to your forehead before your mind and body were no longer yours.

He could sense that your time was up, and that you were no longer with him. He had gone numb when he reached for the gun in his holster and quietly removed it. When the infected head turned towards him and he was met with its dead, glossed over eyes, this was his final confirmation and nail in the coffin that his little fawn was no more.

He mouthed, I’m sorry, before he locked the infected in a headlock. They tussled on the ground momentarily before he pressed the barrel of the gun between its eyes and pulled the trigger.

The body went limp in his loosened grasp, slumping into his arms like a bag of bricks. He broke down into silent tears that wrecked through his body as he cradled you in his arms, rocking back and forth to try and calm himself down.

“I’m so sorry, little fawn. You deserved so much better.” He pressed one last kiss to your forehead before he lifted your corpse into his arms. He wanted to lay you to rest someone soft and comforting in hopes that wherever you were now, was filled with nothing but peace, love, and no pain.

He found a bed of moss nearby and gently laid you down upon it. His fingertips brushed across your eyelids, pulling them down gently so that it would appear as if you were sleeping peacefully. He placed your pocket knife between your hands and said his final goodbyes.

When your body rotted and decayed, you became one with the moss and only your bones remained.

Years later, Joel still thinks about you, his little fawn. He wonders if you’re dancing amongst the stars when he sits out on the back porch of his home in Jackson. There’s frost in the air, but it’s a clear night with the moon shining bright. His guitar sits off to the side and his mug of coffee has steam billowing off the rim of it. He catches a glimpse of the tail end of a shooting star striking brilliantly against the jet black sky. He knows in his heart that it’s you up there.

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[madamefortressmommyy]

If you are ever thinking of an autistic person and say to yourself "I never really have to make any/many accomodations for them."

Yeah.

That is because WE are the ones making the accomodations for YOU.

You always hear about how we need all this support and patience but no one ever talks about the sacrafices ASD people make for he NTs in our lives that they never even see or know about.

Oh, you think I am "well spoken?" Thats cuz i spent a ridiculous amount of time rehearsing my lines and facial expressions to make sure they meet your liking.

I don't seem to have any sensory issues? My guy, i have nerve damage from raw dogging the pain. You ever watch a lactose intolerant person eat dairy? They aint gonna shit their pants in front of you. You dont have to follow them into he bathroom to believe them.

Oh you mean you dont remember me ever having a meltdown? I locked myself on the bathroom to have my "temper tantrums" in private since i was 5 years old.

You think I dont stim? Let me roll up my sleeves and show you the gashes and scars from clawing myself under my shirt. The inside of my mouth looks like a crime scene. I can taste the blood. You cant. I would much rather be "squirming" or wearing very strong perfume but i know that bothers people so i find another way.

You think i am "smart?" Yeah i might be, but that is because i am constantly using my problem solving skills to quietly and covertly solve problems i am not "supposed" to have. Problems that would never even occur to you. Problems you would never even know about because i am fucking terrified of what people would say if they knew it takes me 3 hours to get dressed and shower sometimes.

I have given myself perminant nerve damage just because i was afraid to make other people even a little uncomfy.

You understand body language because it comes naturally to you.

I understand body language because it comes naturally to you.

We are not the same.

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (3/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: fingering & oral sex, a kind of triangle, smut, the angst, description of the effects of murder, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, violence ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

"I am unable to control her. I can see in her gaze that she despises me. She doesn't understand that the cause is bigger than her or me." He whispered, looking blankly at the cream-coloured curtain behind which people were moving, their moans and sighs loud, pathetic, foreign.

Madam hummed with understanding, combing his hair with her fingers, her thighs where his head lay warm and soft.

"She is certainly frightened and lonely. A woman, unlike a man, has few options for resistance. Like any human being, she longs for freedom, my Prince." She said calmly, as if speaking to a small child, trailing her fingertips down his bare back.

He swallowed hard, feeling that the poppy milk he had drunk just a moment ago had begun to take effect, relaxing him, the pain in his eye socket finally subsiding, allowing him to breathe.

"We all want to be free. I understand it, but I cannot be weak. I protect my family." He whispered and closed his eyes – he felt the frustration of hearing Madam open her mouth, wanting to say more.

"Enough." He commanded coolly and she fell silent, tense, her trembling hand still trailing over his naked body.

He felt tears full of shame under his eyelids at the thought that he had confided in a whore.

As usual, as he walked back from her to the Red Keep, looking under his feet, he felt embarrassment and discouragement, emptiness and fatigue.

Daemon's daughter had a charisma that apparently made Vhagar listen to her, so they practised on her the way she gave commands.

Looking at her from the side, he had the impression that she stood beside him with only her body – her dark eyes remained blank, her face, her words, her gaze never directed towards him.

While some people dreamed of touching or riding a dragon, of being in the very company of these mystical beasts, she seemed indifferent to it – even though Vhagar listened to her like an obedient dog, she never tried to come closer, to touch her, to establish a relationship with her, as if the fact that she had to do this was beneath her dignity.

He hated her for despising what was most precious to him.

He hated her, but he needed her.

He stepped into his chamber through one of the hidden passages of the fortress and pulled off his cloak, tossing it carelessly onto his bed. He furrowed his brow as he saw that the books that had lain on the table earlier were scattered on the ground.

Someone was in his chamber, he thought with fury.

He froze as he heard screaming and crying, growing louder and louder, the guards one by one began to run down the corridor towards the chamber of his sister and her children.

He moved there, feeling anxiety, his heart in his throat as he entered the room and saw his mother kneeling over the bed of his nephew, his headless body looking like a doll.

He fell to his knees not knowing how else he was supposed to react to what he was seeing, feeling like he couldn't catch his breath, the screams and wails of his mother pressing her face against the boy's body so loud he felt like his skull was going to burst.

He was with a whore when they did it.

With a whore.

"What happened? What's the commotion?" He heard his brother's voice as he rushed into the chamber half drunk, staggering, stopping between him and his mother.

He watched as the expression on his face changed from shock and disbelief to despair, as a drawn-out, high-pitched, inhuman whine broke from his throat, followed by a sob, honest and full of suffering.

"– Jaehaerys –" He cried, whooping with tears, trying to touch him, but their mother pushed him away, shaking her head.

"– Aegon, please, leave, don't look at it –"

"– Jaehaerys – oh, gods, my boy, my sweet, sweet, little boy –" He babbled, dropping to his knees next to him, snuggling into their mother's womb, his hands clenched on her gown, a howl coming from his mouth as if someone had slit his insides with a knife.

He could feel his knee twitching in nervous reflex under the table, the wave of thoughts running over his mind making him feel dulled, hearing as if through a fog what was happening in the Small Council room.

His nephew was dead.

They had murdered Jaehaerys because they had not found him in his chamber.

He had been with a whore instead of defending his family.

He was next in line for the throne.

His nephew was dead.

A small, sweet, polite boy.

His children could sit on the Iron Throne.

"– bring me that whore – it's her fault – she certainly helped her father –" Aegon exclaimed, hitting the table top with his fist, his face all red and swollen from tears.

"– the guards went to her quarters, Your Grace – but I don't think she –" Criston Cole didn't finish as the door to the chamber opened and she was led inside like a prisoner.

It was apparent that she had been snatched from a deep sleep, her hair in a slight disarray, a thin brown robe thrown over her nightgown.

Aegon stood up, moving at her like a wild animal, Criston Cole and their mother had to restrain him, grabbing his arms to prevent him from killing her with his own hands.

"– WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, YOU FUCKING WHORE – WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY SON? –" He shouted, and she shook her head, shocked, looking at him with wide eyes, confusion in her expression.

She had no idea what had happened, he thought.

He knew she had nothing to do with it.

His spies were watching her day and night.

"– I don't understand –" She muttered.

"– the royal heir, my Lady – our king's son was bestially murdered in front of his poor mother – the boy's head was cut off – we suspect this is your father's revenge for the death of Lucerys Velaryon –" Tyland Lannister said, glancing at her uncertainly.

It was the first time he had seen her in such a state – her eyebrows arched in pain, as if this news had truly broken her, her dark eyes large and filled with sadness, her mouth parted wide in an expression of helplessness.

"– I have nothing to do with this – gods, I swear –" She mumbled, shaking her head, his brother screaming in rage.

"– LIAR! –"

"– she's telling the truth –" He said forcing himself to be calm, running his fingers across the table top.

His brother froze, looking at him suddenly, his gaze such as if he had realised something. He pulled himself out of the arms of Criston Cole and their mother, walking slowly towards him, his heart in his throat with terror.

"– and you, brother? – where were you, our protector, when they murdered my little son? – hm? –" He asked in a trembling voice, his eyes glazed over with tears.

He pressed his lips together, trying not to burst into sobs, to remain calm, unable to bear the shame that filled his heart.

"– with that fucking old whore whose tits you like to cuddle up to? – with your second mummy when they cut my boy's head off? –" He shouted in his face, and he felt a single, lonely tear run down his cheek.

"– and you, Cole? –" His brother continued, turning abruptly the other way, leaving him with his humiliating words, heavy tears full of guilt one after another running down his cheeks. "– where the fuck have you been? –"

"– in my bed, my King –"

"– IN YOUR BED? – IN YOUR BED INSTEAD OF WATCHING OVER MY WIFE AND CHILDREN! –" He wailed, barely staying on his feet, finally burying his face in his hands, their mother embraced him to calm him down.

"– get out –" He cried out finally. "– GET OUT – GET OUT – GET OUT –"

He shouted, so they all stood up – as he walked out, out of the corner of his eye he noticed that she was looking at him, her dark, warm gaze full of compassion he so despised.

The next day the funeral took place, his mother and sister, led by the dead body of his nephew, moved in procession through the streets of King's Landing, showing their subjects the cruelty of the heiress to the throne.

He watched them from behind the walls, feeling an emptiness, wondering if, had he not gone out that night, he would have saved him, or if he himself would have died then.

He felt both relief that it had not been him and regret that it was his nephew who had paid the price.

"Your Highness. She is already in your chamber, as you ordered." Said one of the guards, and he merely nodded and walked back into the fortress.

When he walked into his quarters indeed, his cousin was inside and she jumped up, hearing his rapid footsteps. He passed her without a word and settled over the map, spreading his hand over it.

"There are several places where wild dragons have been seen. One of those places is the Vale." He said, placing one of the gold coins in that spot.

"I've heard of it." She whispered, her voice frustratingly soft. "The farmers complained that it devours their flocks, sheep and pigs."

He nodded his head without looking at her, taking his cup in his hand, drinking wine from the morning, heedless of how early it was.

"This is our first target. The other ones are too close to Rhaenyra. We can't risk them discovering our plan. We will fly there on Vhagar." He said, sitting down in the chair, pressing the cup to his lips, the slightly tart and sweet taste of the wine melting on his tongue.

He looked at her, hearing her silence.

The light of the sun illuminated her graceful, girlish figure, her full lips shone as brightly as her eyes, her expression unexpectedly gentle.

He was sure she would say something that would enrage him, offer him condolences, or worse, begin to pity and console him, trying to step into the role of his mother.

That she would try use what she had heard about him to manipulate him.

"More wine?" She asked.

He sighed, feeling some kind of relief, and nodded, extending his hand with the goblet to her.

She walked slowly to the table, took the silver jug from it and leaned over him, filling his cup fully; looking at her in this position, smelling her pleasant scent, he could see the soft outline of her plump breasts under her gown.

His soft length swelled and throbbed in his breeches against his will as he thought about his tongue rolling around her hard, puffy nipples.

Because of this, because of the moment of relief, because of the woman's touch, he lost his guard and led to tragedy.

"We leave tomorrow at first light."

Silence.

"I want to ask you something, cousin. And I know you won't like it." She said in a trembling voice, standing over him with the jug in her hands.

He froze in mid-motion, raising the wine cup to his lips, staring dully ahead.

"You like to take risks, don't you?" He snorted, finally taking a deep, draughty sip, feeling the alcohol slowly begin to dull his senses.

"No, but you give me no choice. I will fly with you and the will of the gods will happen, as you desire. However, the chance of me dying in flames or being devoured is just as great as the chance of me succeeding." She said uncertainly and he sighed heavily, setting his cup down on the table with a loud clink of steel.

"What do you want?"

She was silent for a long moment, standing over him, he heard her swallow hard.

"Servant. I want to choose one and take him to my bed. I don't want to die without having any idea of this sensations." She muttered with sincere, childish shame, infuriating him.

I don't want to die without having any idea of this sensations.

"Aren't you ashamed to ask something like that out loud? What self-respecting Lord will want you after this?" He asked, unable to look her in the face, for some reason feeling aroused, his erection pulsed as he imagined her beneath the young man, moaning in pleasure.

"I don't care what the lords will think of me. If I become a dragon rider, my maidenhood will be the least of their worries. I have no desire to become either a wife or a mother. I could try to hide it from you, but I stand here before you and ask your permission like a dog." She said in a way from which he felt a squeeze in his throat, a disturbing idea filling his head.

He thought it was certainly the fault of the amount of wine he had drunk.

The fact that he needed to vent after what had happened, the humiliation he had experienced.

"Knowing what you ask, my soul will have no peace unless I am assured that no man has taken you by force." He replied at last, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, something in his gaze evidently told her what he was thinking of, for her words left her lips without hesitation.

"I'll let you watch if it will soothe your conscience." She said, and he grinned in a way from which she swallowed hard.

"It will."

There was something absurd and unreal about how, on the day of his nephew's funeral, when everyone was in mourning, he had walked by her side in the Red Keep, letting her pick the ripest, sweetest apple.

Her cool, almost disgust-filled approach to his inheritance made him treat his original idea of marrying her with reserve, and this way he could have something on her that he could use against her in the future.

If the need arose.

She had found out something about him against his will, and now he was going to use his advantage.

She paused, looking between the cloisters at one of the young men talking to a member of the Kingsguard, with golden, beautiful curls and bright eyes, his pearly laughter spreading around them.

She blinked, glancing over her shoulder at him, as if asking his opinion, and he wondered if this was how the gossiping ladies of the court felt.

"This is Tyland Lannister's servant. His distant relative. A bastard." He explained, looking at her indifferently. He saw that she pressed her lips together, as if she was thinking hard about something.

"Can he be trusted?" She asked, and he chuckled under his breath and shook his head, sighing in disbelief.

"Will your secret be safe with him? No."

Did she really believe that the entire Red Keep wouldn't find out about what she had done?

That the ladies of the court and the lords would not call her a shameless whore?

He blinked and led her away with a glance, seeing that she had simply moved ahead. He stood and watched in disbelief as she walked up to the two men and began to speak to them.

They both laughed, glancing at him as if she had said something amusing about him and he pressed his lips into a thin line at the thought.

Cunt.

After a while, the knight left them, and she was left alone with the boy who had piqued her attention. He leaned over her as if he was interested in what she was saying, his eyes big, his mouth twitching in a smile full of disbelief.

Had she just told him what she wanted to do?

Just like that, without any forethought or embarrassment.

The man bowed to her and escorted her away with a curious look as she returned to him, throwing him a calm look full of self-satisfaction.

"He agreed. He said I am beautiful." She said.

"You're a fool." He replied coldly.

She blinked and smiled warmly in a way from which he felt discomfort.

"Come."

He didn't understand what he was doing there – didn't understand why he was looking at them from afar like a shadow, why he was watching as his hands wandered over her cheeks and neck, as his lips placed soft, butterfly kisses on her lips.

"Do it slowly," she said, and he obeyed, not caring too much about his presence, eager to please her and to experience fulfilment himself.

He saw her flinch as his hand travelled to her breasts under the thin material of her gown, her fingers tightening on his wrist.

"– no –" He heard her whisper, her eyes closed, her head thrown back as if she was trying to relax. "– not yet –"

He was ashamed that he had been hard; he was ashamed that he had had to sit in a chair with his legs crossed so it wouldn't be visible. He was ashamed that he took some sick satisfaction from what he was looking at, knowing that he would be able to use it against her.

He swallowed hard as her eyes opened suddenly, her gaze finding his face and remaining fixed on him as the boy's lips sank into her neck again and again.

She sighed as he pressed her against the bed with his body, growing more and more aroused and impatient, her fingers clenched on his tunic in some helpless gesture, her doe eyes shining from tears of discomfort.

"– slow down –" He commanded, and the man raised his head and looked at him, breathing heavily, shocked.

"– Your Highness? –"

"– slow down, I said –" He repeated, looking at her, her full lips parted slightly, in her gaze the pain and heat from which he felt his cock swell all over his breeches, the wine humming in his head, filling his body with a pleasant warmth.

He felt the satisfaction of seeing that when the boy returned to his caresses, treating her more gently, running his hands down her waist, her gaze did not leave him, fixed on him.

He was sure for some reason that she would ask him to join them.

That she didn't really want this pathetic, simple boy who barely kept his cock in his trousers at all.

"– sink your fingers between her thighs – prepare her properly –" He instructed him and saw that her eyes grew big as she swallowed hard, looking up at her lover who, in one sure movement, lifted the skirt of her gown, slipping his hand under it.

She moaned as he touched her there and closed her eyes for a brief moment, but after a while her brow arched in some kind of uncomfortable expression, her hips swung back as if she were running away from him.

He was doing it too fast, without affection, without finesse, rushing to his own fulfilment and he was not surprised, but that was not the purpose of this whole farce.

Indeed, she could have burned in the dragon's fire, and the fact that she was just about to experience what a man's peak was was hardly what she had imagined.

He wondered if he should intervene, recognising that she wanted it herself.

And then he saw his hand slide down to his breeches and he simply rose from his seat.

"– step back, boy –" He snarled, approaching them lazily.

The boy rose and moved away, shocked as was his cousin, leaning on her elbows, her dark eyes big and shining, her cheeks and lips parted in a drawn-out breath red with emotion.

She sighed as he grabbed her around the waist and moved her so that he sat behind her back, placing his legs on either side of her body, pulling her close so she could feel on her ass what she had done to him.

How fucking hard he was because of her and her idea.

His fingers ran over her neck and tilted her head so that she rested her back against his shoulder, his nose pressed against her hot, fragrant, sweaty cheek as his free hand forced her to bend her legs at the knees, lowering her skirts and smallclothes.

"– bend over and lick her –" He commanded, running his full lips over her bare skin, stroking the silky structure of the inside of her thigh with his palm, as if he wanted to reassure her and prepare her for what was about to happen.

"– what? –" She muttered quietly, tense, in some involuntary, helpless reflex reaching her hand back, clasping it softly in his hair.

The man swallowed hard, sensing already, probably subconsciously, that he would not regain control of the situation and could not hope for fulfilment.

Good, he thought.

There was no reason why he should fill her with his worthless seed or take her maidenhood.

"– easy –" He whispered in her ear, running his thumb over her jawline, her thigh quivering in his embrace. "– let me take care of this –"

He said and nodded, ordering the boy to obey his command. The man swallowed and leaned in, her hips moving backwards in a subconscious reflex, wanting to protect herself, but they met his body, pressing against his rock-hard length.

Her lips parted in shock as she moaned suddenly, apparently feeling the man's tongue deep inside her, while his hand slid from her thigh to her sticky, swollen folds, seeking her puffy bud.

"– ah – oh, gods, t-too much, too much –" She mewled, clenching her fingers tighter in his white hair, his hands from her jaw slipping under the fabric of her gown, sinking slowly into the soft, plump skin of her breasts.

"– you wanted it yourself – go on –" He said dryly, his last words directed at the man thrusting between her throbbing slit with his tongue.

She threw her head back with a girlish, sweet moan as the man sped up, the tips of their noses touching as his forehead pressed against hers.

"– if only you were my little sister – I'd caress you like this every night – would you like it? –" He gasped encouragingly, knowing exactly what he wanted to do to her, feeling her body squirm in his embrace in pure ecstasy.

He could take Daemon's place by her side.

To be her protector, the man in whom she would seek refuge.

She gasped as his thumb began to tease her hard nipple in an offhanded manner, the fingers of his other hand digging lazily into her leaking cunt in circular motions, securing her path to fulfilment to the accompaniment of the loud clicks of the boy's saliva between her thighs.

"– what would your father say at the sight of this – hm? – do you think he would be proud? –" He whispered, feeling that his fingers were all sticky from her wetness. She shook her head quickly, moaning at the same time, slowly losing touch with reality.

He didn't even notice when he started panting himself, rolling his hips back and forth, rubbing his manhood between her buttocks, feeling the tightness in his stones testifying that he himself was fully aroused.

"– you like it, don't you? – I can feel you're close – come on his face –" He breathed out, and she moaned and shook her head, raising her big, tear-filled eyes at him, her face smooth and bright up close, her eyelashes long and black, as beautiful as her lips and eyebrows arched in indecision.

"– g-gods, stop –" She mumbled out, and after a moment he felt her body shake in convulsion, her lips parted wide as she cried out in pleasure, rocking her hips into the strokes of his fingers, his other hand kneading her soft breast like dough.

"– that's what I thought – just like that – easy now –" He hummed, letting his forehead last pressed against hers while she trembled all over, giving her a sense of reassurance. He watched with some kind of warmth as she panted heavily with her eyes closed, tears of shame, horror and fulfilment flowing down her red, sweaty cheeks.

"You may leave." He commanded, glancing sideways out of the corner of his eye at her pathetic lover. "If you tell anyone about this, I will cut your tongue out."

The man rose from between her thighs, all red with exertion, wiped his chin and lips and climbed off the bed, his long, hard erection clearly outlined in his trousers.

He smirked under his breath at the sight of it, concentrating on her accelerated breathing, on her hot, wet womanhood pulsing under his fingers, on her soft breast on which he simply held his hand, not moving, feeling her heart pounding hard in her chest.

He let her turn in his embrace, let her snuggle into his body, let her throw her arms around his neck, lingering with her like this, spread out comfortably on the pillow behind his back, feeling his hard manhood push against her stomach again and again.

He stroked her soft, long hair, thinking with tenderness that he now had her in his grasp.

______

Author's note: I know that in my requests I don't allow requests for triangles in my stories and I never write them because I just don't like them, but when I came up with this idea here my brain was like:………. And you have what you have. Let's just say that this is a tiny break of my rule for you, my dear readers.