#also its very warm which makes my brain shut up even less

[steine-druff]

i want to take my brain out of my skull overnight and place it into a cleaning solution like dentures

[javier-pena]

the overlook

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader x Tess Servopoulos

Word Count: 23.3k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: When you almost get killed, Joel and Tess are there to rescue you. They take you in and Joel nurses you back to health. When you discover that Joel and Tess are in a relationship, tension rises until it inevitably breaks.

Warnings: threesome (m/f/f) | but it’s also very depressing, so keep that in mind when reading it | masturbation (f) | voyeurism kink | unprotected p in v sex | hair pulling | overstimulation | fingering (f receiving) | hand job | (very brief) cum play | canon typical violence and gore | themes of death/dying | mentions of abuse and rape (nothing graphic) | descriptions of injuries and medical procedures (again, nothing too graphic) | mentions of food and alcohol | and yes I don’t shut up about Joel’s hands

Notes: Well, here it is, one and half months after I first mentioned it. As it turns out, I wrote a short novella about Joel and Tess and their little hideaway high up in the mountains that they suddenly have to share with someone else. HUGE thanks to Dani @joel-tess​​ (which is a very fitting URL lmao) for spending two whole weeks reading this and leaving helpful comments and pointing out that I start half my sentences with 'but' and the other half with 'and'. I hope the end result is worthy of the show, at least I was trying to make this about love and what it means to love in a world that runs on hopelessness and hate.

***

Everything hurts. Every bone, every muscle, every movement, no matter how small. Are your eyes closed or open? Is it day or night? Those things lose all meaning in a world where you’re so close to death. You don’t even feel the clammy wetness of the snow because the ache in your side makes everything else seem less important.

A gurgling sound escapes your throat, and you stop breathing, just for a little while, but long enough for panic to kick in. Your body doesn’t want to die. It hasn’t accepted its fate yet, the one your mind has made peace with. The blood you cough up lands sticky on your lips and chin. There’s really no coming back from this. You don’t want to spend your last minutes on Earth fighting and struggling – you don’t want to die how you lived.

Now you start to feel the cold seeping in through your torn pants, making your legs numb. Or maybe that’s just what dying feels like. Maybe your body is shutting down, limb by limb. First your legs, then your arms, and soon all that will be left will be your brain, your thoughts, all the things you regret, all the things you should have done differently, all the chances you didn’t take. Just like your body that should accept your journey is coming to an end, you too should accept that you did the best you could in a world that has been trying to kill you from the start. Maybe you should be proud you’ve made it this far. There is no shame in dying in a cold, dark forest under the stars, no shame at all in accepting defeat when faced with an enemy that is so much stronger than you are.

Your eyes are open now, and you can see the dark outlines of the trees surrounding you, the darker, more solid shadows moving between the trunks. Maybe they’ve come back to gloat, or to finish the job. It doesn’t matter – why should you spend your last minutes worrying? Coughing, you turn your head to look up at the sky again, at the vastness above you. Yes, you never thought you would die here, today, but there are also worse ways to go, darker, more painful ones. Maybe you should be grateful you’re not dying in an abandoned warehouse, chained, gagged, discarded. You’re free, out in the open, able to breathe clean air, feel a gentle breeze on your cheeks. And you’re not alone, not with thousands of stars twinkling above you, and the forest whispering sweet nothings.

Your eyes are closed now, and you can feel yourself drift off. There is no more fight left in your body, no more struggle against the inevitable. You feel warm all over, as if someone is hugging you, refusing to let go. Surrendering is so simple, so easy. In death there are no more expectations, no reason to worry about snapping branches and heavy steps. All those things are irrelevant now – what matters is to let go. Once you’ve done that, you’ll be free. You already are free you realize with a burst of relief. Those heavy footfalls close to you, they don’t fill you with worry or dread or fear. It’s not even indifference that you’re feeling. You just feel nothing.

Nothing at all.

*******

Death is colder than you expected.

It’s a cold, harsh wind that cuts your face and burns your hand. All those stories about a bright light, about an engulfing warmth were lies. As were those about pain vanishing because you feel it burning, eating away at your side, even more intense than it was before. Or maybe there is a Hell after all, and instead of being filled with fire and brimstone and screams and horrors, it’s this – having to go on how you died, cold and in pain, unable to escape your mistakes and regrets.

Do you deserve to be in Hell? You’re not sure. Probably not any more or less than everyone else you know. Yes, you killed people, but who didn’t? At least you never killed without having a good reason. You didn’t lead an honest life, but no one could under these circumstances. Lying and cheating and manipulating was what kept you alive for all these years. If you hadn’t allowed yourself to make some mistakes, you would’ve died much sooner. But maybe that was the point – if you had stopped fighting, maybe there would be light and warmth waiting for you now.

Blood tickles the back of your throat but you’re too weak to cough. All you can do is lie there, the copper taste filling your mouth before you feel yourself drift off into unconsciousness. At least you’re allowed this short break. Maybe death isn’t so bad after all.

*******

Death smells like gasoline and disinfectant, it smells like burning trash and blood. That doesn’t surprise you now that you’ve made peace with never being embraced by that warm light. Death is also quiet, calm. No more rustling leaves, no more heavy steps – just silence. If the smell wasn’t so bad it made you retch, you would think you were back home, in your childhood bedroom, before the world was fucked up and you lost everything. Or maybe you have to experience it all over again, the loss, the pain, the heartbreak. Maybe that’s your punishment for killing and lying and cheating. It could be worse, you decide. It’s nothing you don’t know, nothing you can’t live with.

Watching your mother being executed by soldiers? You replay those few short seconds every day, and have been for 15 years. Reliving the pain of your brother beating you until you couldn’t get up? You forgave him for that a long time ago because he was right – you deserved it. Being gagged and bound so you couldn’t run off, unable to escape your father selling you to a group of men when you were barely 22? Back then, you thought it was the worst thing that could happen to you. You laugh. Life had so much worse in store for you.

All those memories can’t hurt you anymore, but there is just one … one day you don’t want to relive. Still, there is no sense in worrying about it now. You can submit to the guilt and self-hatred when you get there. And maybe you won’t. Maybe something else entirely is about to happen, something much worse than you could ever imagine. No one knows what happens after death, but you’re about to find out.

*******

The voices have been with you for quite some time, but you still can’t recognize them. You can’t be sure, but you don’t think you’ve heard them before. It’s odd – isn’t this supposed to be about your life, your memories? Maybe you could place them if you could understand what they were saying, but it’s impossible to make out. You’re fairly certain there are at least one man and one woman. Sometimes you can hear her laughing, sometimes she shouts and growls. His voice is always the same, a deep rumble, monotone.

It could be that you know them. You’ve met so many people over the course of your life, so many strangers, some of them good, some of them cold and cruel and dangerous. But if the man and the woman are significant to you, significant to learning one final lesson, then why don’t you recognize them? And why can’t you understand what they’re saying? What’s the point to it all?

When you realize you can open your eyes, it comes as a shock to you, and you immediately close them again. You don’t want to see because you don’t want to know where you are, but your left arm itches and burns, and you can’t move your right hand to feel out what the problem might be. You also can’t move your left arm or your legs for that matter. So, if you want to find out what’s going on, you’re going to have to open your eyes sooner or later.

You’re breathing too fast but you can’t help it. If this is death, then why are you so terrified? The worst thing that could happen to you has already happened. There is nothing worse, nothing more final than dying. Still, you pant like a rabbit caught in a trap, your heart fluttering inside your chest when you finally manage to force yourself to open your eyes. And you see nothing, just darkness, not entirely black but too dense to make out much except a lamp somewhere above your head, the lightbulb cold and dark. It could be worse.

Even with your breathing still too fast and your heart still fighting with everything it has, you manage to turn your head to the left. You can make out an IV bag next to the surface you’re lying on, its line leading to your arm, buried in the crook of it. You groan, and try to lift your right hand again to free yourself but you can’t. You can’t and you don’t know why and the room is spinning and spinning and … you realize.

You’re tied down.

You can feel the coarse leather against your skin now, against both wrists and around your ankles. This can’t be death – it’s too much like life, too much like what you’re used to. A disappointed sob forces its way out of your chest, followed by a dry heave. Not only did you fail to escape, you ended up in a worse situation than before. Panic grips you, cold and hard, and you don’t hear yourself screaming but you must have because a door bangs open and the voices are in the room with you now.

You lose consciousness … you don’t want to know.

*******

You dream of a mountain stream, cold and clear. You dream of the ocean, of waves rolling in, quietly at first, then louder and louder. You dream of birds in the sky, of your gun in your hand. You dream of red sunrises, of fire burning flesh, of the iron taste of blood.

You dream of her.

You don’t want to dream of her, so you wake yourself up. But the only thing that awaits you is the horror of still being alive, of still being trapped in a windowless room, hooked up to an IV bag, tied down, with no idea about where you are, what time it is, and what they want from you. And you wish you had died in that forest under the stars, so the snow could have covered your body, and you would have been forgotten. But you’re refused that one final kindness, even now, when you have nothing left to lose.

There are sounds outside the locked door – it’s bound to be locked, isn’t it? You can’t get up and check, but there is no point anyway. You’ve been confronted with enough locked doors in your life to know better than to expect anything else. The sounds are loud, metallic, like someone is working on something, destroying it. You don’t hear voices anymore, you don’t hear the man or the woman, you don’t know if it’s one of them out there or someone else entirely. And it’s probably best that you don’t. The sooner you find answers to those questions you’re chewing on, the sooner you’ll be in danger again.

The sounds stop and your entire body tenses. You try to move but you can’t – all you get as a reward is a sharp pain in your left side, right where the bullet hit you. But it’s much softer compared to the pain you felt lying in the snow. It doesn’t take up so much of your mental capacity now and you can breathe through it. Almost as if someone tended to the wound and it’s healing. But before you can ponder that possibility you hear a key being turned in the lock of your door and it swings open, bringing a beam of light with it.

You don’t want to see, so you close your eyes, pretend you are still asleep. It won’t save you, it never has before, but it might buy you some time, prolong the inevitable for a little while longer. But your breathing is too fast, your body is too tense – you’re not fooling anyone.

You hear footsteps that sound heavy against the hard floor. One pair of boots, so at least you’ll only have to deal with one of them for now. Not that you can deal with anyone in the condition you’re in, but it’s still a small consolation.

“I know you’re awake.” A deep voice. A man’s voice.

You don’t move. He doesn’t know shit.

He sighs, moves closer to the bed you’re lying on, but he doesn’t touch you, doesn’t hit you. Instead, you feel an uncomfortable tug on your arm as he checks the IV. And that’s it. That’s all he does. Soon, you hear his footsteps receding, moving back toward the door. And you risk one glance at him before he shuts it behind himself.

You should focus on the gun and knife strapped to his side, on the fact that you could easily grab them from your position if you weren’t tied down. Instead, all you can see is his profile, mostly hidden in shadow, his strong jaw and big nose, his furrowed brow. And despite all your instincts, despite everything you had to learn the hard way, you want to believe he’s not planning on hurting you.

What a foolish thought to have.

*******

The next time you wake up, the restraints on your ankles and wrists are gone. You notice it immediately because you’re curled up on your side in a tight ball, hugging yourself. But once you realize that, you shoot upright, pulling the needle from your arm with the quick movement. Before you can jump out of the bed, you feel a yank and a metallic clang puts you back in your place. Yes, the leather is gone, but you’re still handcuffed to the bed. You’re only able to move more as long as you’re not planning on getting up.

“Sleep well?”

It takes everything in you not to scream. You’ve been alone in this room for so long, waking up alone for so long, you weren’t expecting someone else to be there with you. And that’s on you – you really should know better after living like this for 15 years.

The room is still dark, except for a lamp right next to your bed that’s bright enough to let you guess the dimensions of the space you’re in. Outside the circle of light, just beyond what you can comfortably see, the man who checked up on you … hours ago – maybe days ago – sits on a chair, leaned back, legs spread, arms crossed over his chest. Today, you can’t pretend you’re still asleep.

“Who are you?” Your voice is hoarse from screaming, it’s hoarse because you’re parched.

He nods at you. “Drink.”

You take your eyes off him for a second to see there’s a glass of water on a small table next to the bed. You don’t touch it.

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “It’s not poisoned if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Who are you?”

Would knowing really help you? Probably not. But it would give you back some control. It would make you feel like you were more than a good he’s going to barter the first chance he gets.

“My name is Joel.” He looks at his hands when he says it, so you can’t see his eyes. You can’t know if he’s telling the truth, but there is no reason for him to lie. Joel. He could be anyone and no one, but he’s the man who’s currently holding you captive.

“Where am I? Why am I here?”

Joel sighs again. “I ain’t the one … I’m just supposed to make sure you don’t dehydrate. Drink.”

You shake your head.

“You almost died out there. Hell, you almost died in here, too. You need fluids.”

What he says makes sense. You were there, after all, lived through the whole thing. But this is after, and no one helps anyone after the world perishes, at least not out of the kindness of their hearts. The water is probably laced with drugs so he can put you under again. You know better than to expect anything from strangers. You knew better before, and you certainly know better after.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

He pushes himself out of his chair, and you push yourself back so your head makes painful contact with the hard metal wall behind you. He doesn’t need to drug you for whatever it is he wants to do to you. You couldn’t defend yourself in the state you’re in, even if it was your life on the line. But he doesn’t touch you. He picks up the glass of water and takes one big gulp, spilling some of it down his chin and chest. The reverberating sound that comes with him putting it back down echoes around your head.

“There. Happy?”

He lets himself fall back into the chair and crosses his arms again. A few drops of water cling to his beard but he doesn’t wipe them away. He doesn’t do anything except stare at you.

You shouldn’t do it. Maybe he’s immune to whatever he put in your glass, maybe a small dose doesn’t have any effect on him. But you’re too thirsty to care. Your mouth is dry and sticky at the same time, and your throat aches for some relief, for some water.

The water is so cold the first sip sends a shiver down your spine and makes your teeth hurt. But after that it gets easier and easier and you drink it down faster and faster until there is nothing left and your empty stomach feels so full it hurts. He doesn’t say anything, just takes the empty glass from you and makes to leave.

“Hey,” you call after him. Hey, Joel, you want to say, but it feels too intimate. “Untie me?”

He doesn’t even shake his head before he closes and locks the door behind himself.

*******

The soup burns your lips and tongue, but you’re too greedy to pay much attention to the pain. It’s nothing special, just some roots and mushrooms, and a few pieces of lean meat, but it’s the best meal you’ve ever had. Joel watches you drink down the soup, one hand resting on his knee, the other hanging down, hovering close to the gun. He expects you to throw the soup in his face, and you can’t even be upset he thinks so little of you because you were considering it for a second.

“Be careful, it’s hot.” It’s too late for that warning, but he says it anyway.

“Do you think you’ll untie me today?” you ask, moving your bound wrist so the handcuff scrapes against the handle you’re tied to. You’re still in the same room, tied to the same hospital bed, but at least the IV is gone.

He smacks his lips. “Nope.”

“I won’t run,” you promise. “Honestly, Joel, where do you think I would go? You still won’t even tell me where I am.”

“You don’t need to be untied if you want to stay right here.” You’ve heard this a million times.

“Don’t you think it’s time you trusted me?”

He huffs. Sometimes he says, “You clearly don’t trust me,” sometimes he gets up and leaves. Today, he just quietly watches you as you drink your soup.

You know he doesn’t want to harm you. He had plenty of opportunities in the three weeks you’ve been living under his roof. That’s something else you know – three weeks. Two of those you spent drifting in and out of consciousness, hovering between life and death. One you spent trying to convince Joel to unlock the handcuffs.

The one thing you still don’t know is why you’re here. What does he want with you? Why is he keeping you alive? Why is he nursing you back to health? Sometimes you aren’t even sure if he knows the answers to those questions himself. But the stronger you get, the more you’re looking for answers. And the more you push him, the more he shuts down.

“Where am I, Joel?” You’ve asked him this so many times that the words have started to sound fake.

“You’re safe.” He replies, and as always, those words sound like a lie.

“If I’m safe, then why are you holding me captive?” Why am I still locked up? Why don’t you want to untie me? What’s behind that door? You’ve tried countless variations on that same question and he’s found countless ways to avoid answering them.

“Would you like some more soup?” He nods at your empty bowl.

Yes, you would, but you also want to get up and move about. Wordlessly, you hold out the bowl and he takes it from you, always careful not to come too close to you, so you can’t grab the knife or the gun. You tried, of course you did, and you failed miserably. You still have the bruise on your arm to prove it.

Joel walks through the door but leaves it open. He sometimes does that because there is nothing of interest to you to see beyond it. Just a table, and a calendar on the wall opposite. August 2003, and a picture of a golden-fronted woodpecker, a tiny red berry held gently in its open beak. Its eye looks red, too. You guess there must be a stove somewhere (or at least a gas cooker) or Joel wouldn’t be able to cook soup. But that’s it. You don’t know how many other rooms there are (if there are any), you don’t know how many other people there are (if there are any). Wasn’t there a woman here while you were fighting for your life? You can’t be sure. And asking Joel is useless – you’ve tried.

“Here.” You take the soup from him and he sits back down to watch you as before. “Be careful, it’s hot.” You’re trapped in a loop.

“Why do you always do that?” you ask, holding the bowl in your hands, letting it warm your cold fingers. “Why do you always watch me eat?”

A puff is your only answer.

“Scared I’m going to whittle a key from a few pieces of boiled potatoes and a sprig of rosemary?” you tease.

“I have my orders,” he answers as if that settles the matter.

You know better than to ask him whose orders they are. This conversation is giving you a headache. So you try a different approach. “What’s your favorite kind of soup, Joel?”

The corners of his mouth twitch like he’s about to smile, but he gains back control immediately. “Any soup that’s warm and keeps me alive.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, come on, what’s the real answer?”

You don’t think you’re going to get an answer since he just looks at you for the longest time. You’re used to it, to his brown eyes on you, assessing you, trying to determine how dangerous you are. Only today it’s a different kind of gaze. He’s not looking for danger but something else. And eventually he finds it.

“Black bean soup,” he answers.

There’s already a witty remark on your tongue but before you can get it out, a siren goes off, loud and jarring, unlike anything you’ve heard in a while. Your body’s reaction to it is instantaneous. You drop your soup, fling it from you, so the bowl hits the ground, bursting, spilling the warm liquid everywhere. Joel doesn’t notice. He’s on his feet and halfway out the room at this point. You have no idea what’s going on, what the siren means, but you know you’ll be safe cowering in the room under your blanket. At least you hope you will be. Whatever is out there, whatever triggered the alarm … Joel is just one man. And isn’t this how it started last time? You thought you were safe too, but there were just too many, and they took whatever they wanted. This time, you’re not even strong enough to close off your mind. This time, you will surely die.

You hear no sounds from the other room, except the telltale click of a magazine being pushed into a rifle. You hear no sounds because you try to block out everything that comes afterwards …

When it’s all over, Joel cleans up the soup you spilled. You’ve lost all appetite, and he doesn’t push you to eat more. Joel smells metallic, like smoke. You don’t want to ask him what happened and he’s not going to tell you anyway. Instead, when he’s done, he softly closes the door to your room, leaving you alone in the darkness. He has things to do now, gruesome things, things you wouldn’t know how to help him with even if you weren’t injured. But you could tell from the tension in his shoulders and the cruel lines around his mouth that whoever tripped the alarm wasn’t infected.

And it never gets easier.

*******

You flinch. It still hurts whenever he changes the dressing, even though he’s so careful now. Joel wasn’t like that at first. The first time you were fully conscious during the procedure, you broke down crying because the pain was too much for you to bear. You definitely weren’t looking for comfort from him, but a kind word would have gone a long way. Instead, all you got was a, “Suck it up, you’ve been through worse.”

The more your wound heals and the more you recover, the more careful he handles you. Still, every time he undoes the bandage around your chest, it feels like he’s tearing the wound open again, as if all the scab your body formed around it is coming clean off. It doesn’t help that the wound is on your left side near your ribs, and you have to take your shirt off every time Joel cleans it. It leaves you exposed and uncomfortably on display. Every other man would have taken advantage of your situation by now, but not him. Maybe that makes you feel even more vulnerable.

“It looks good,” he tells you, examining the wound. He carefully touches the tender flesh around it with the coarse tip of his forefinger, sending an uncomfortable shudder down your spine. “No sign of infection. I think it might be time to take you off the antibiotics.”

“If you say so, doctor,” you say through gritted teeth.

He huffs, removing his finger. “Does it still hurt?”

“Of course it fucking does,” you snap.

He draws back, straightening his back. His face is a blank mask. “Was this your first time getting shot?”

“No,” you answer, protectively slinging an arm across your naked stomach, “but the first time I almost died from it.”

He raises an eyebrow. “It wasn’t just the wound.”

There’s no question in it, just an observation. And yes, he’s right, it wasn’t just the wound. It probably wasn’t life-threatening to begin with, but it’s none of his business when he doesn’t even want to tell you where you are and why you’re here. You know better than to open yourself up to a complete stranger who keeps you locked up. In the future, you need to be more careful. You can’t let him come any closer than he already has.

“Like you would know,” you say defensively.

The corner of his mouth twitches, and he flexes his fingers fast, balling them into a fist and releasing them.

“Come on, let’s get this over with,” you sigh impatiently.

Without another word, he gets back to work. He cleans the edges of the wound with some cold water, then he has you press a gauze pad against it while he ties the bandage around your torso again.

“A few more days and we can leave it open,” he tells you once he’s done.

“And then what?”

Is it going to be the same as always?

You glance at Joel, his furrowed brow, as he focuses on tying the bandage tight enough to hold but not tight enough so it will hurt you. He wouldn’t, would he? Hurt you? You shake your head. No, you’ve been there before. You put your trust in people before and it almost cost you your life, and it certainly cost you part of your soul. If anyone should ask, you still have the scars to prove it.

Once he’s done, Joel runs his fingers from the edge of the bandage down your naked side to your hip. It’s not a conscious movement, at least you don’t think it is, since his brown eyes are glazed over, almost empty. But it still pushes all your questions and doubts aside. Joel would hurt you if he could, there is no doubt about that. But he would also protect you, has already protected you. And that’s where the real danger lies waiting. It’s not hidden beneath cruelty and malice. It lies buried beneath care and attention. You either die for the people you love or you live long enough to lose them. And if they betray you, you can never really fully recover from that.

“That’s not up to me,” Joel answers, averting his gaze.

“Please,” you start.

“That’s enough.” His voice is harsh, the words meant as a shove, but all you feel is a pull deep in the pit of your stomach.

“Joel,” you try again, but he shakes his head and stands.

Usually, before he leaves, he tells you to get some rest or holler if you need anything. Today, he stomps out of the room, his boots heavy against the concrete floor, and you turn away from the door because you won’t sink so low as to call after him. But before you can make sense of the whirlwind of feelings holding you captive, before you have time to put your thoughts into order, you hear him return. He grabs your wrist, the one that’s tied to the bed, in a firm hold, one that makes you yelp in surprise.

“Joel, what …?” you try, wanting to get away from him and be closer at the same time.

Before your heart can decide if it wants to stop beating or spin out of control, you hear a metallic click and a weight falls off your wrist. You’re free! Your brain doesn’t have enough time to process that new piece of information before your fingers close around the handcuff and you raise it, bringing it down hard against Joel’s temple. He grunts in pain but you don’t pause – you’re sprinting toward the door as fast as you can after weeks of being tied to a bed. You have the element of surprise on your side because Joel doesn’t come after you, at least not right away. You’ve made your way to the room with the table before he has fully realized what is happening.

Your lungs and legs burn like they’re on fire and your head is spinning, screaming for you to slow down or you will collapse, but you ignore all the warning signs, desperately searching for an exit. There are two doors, one on your left and one on your right. They both look the same – dark green, dirty, paint chipped away, especially around the handles. It’s crazy how much your brain is able to take in and process whenever you’re in danger. But you don’t have time! You can’t linger and stare at the small kitchen corner, maybe even look for a knife you can use as a weapon when Joel finally does come after you. You don’t pick a firearm out of the crate right in front of you either because the rifles and guns probably aren’t loaded and you can’t afford to be slowed down by dead weight.

You make a decision in the spur of the moment, without any plan where you are, any idea about what kind of building you’re in. But you just know that the door on your right will lead you to freedom. And so you make for it, spurred on by the grunts behind you. Joel is in pursuit now, having recovered from the initial shock. If you want to get out of here, it’s now or never.

The door is unlocked. It’s not even particularly hard to push it open, not even for someone in such a weakened state as yourself. It just swings open, and you’re outside – just like that. You don’t see much: snowy mountains, a quiet forest, fences and barbed wire, two abandoned cars, a horse, its flanks steam in the cold winter air. You see your own breath too, and it almost makes you turn back. If you leave in your condition, face the winter without so much as a coat to keep you warm, you’ll be dead within a few hours. You certainly won’t make it through the night. But it’s a fate you can choose, something you can control now that you don’t feel like your own person anymore. And it’s preferable to dying tied to a bed in a dark room.

You run, stumbling like a fawn. If you push through the pain and the cold, if you ignore your cramping muscles, the jab in your side, the iron taste in your mouth, you should be able to climb over the fence. And then you can hide in the forest until it’s too dark for Joel to find you.

Something barrels into you, pushing you to the ground. You scream as your entire world erupts with pain. Lights flicker in front of your eyes, white and red, and your world tilts and spins. You’re so cold but your left side burns red hot. Did Joel shoot you?

“Fuck!” It’s the woman’s voice – you recognize her instantly. She’s the one you heard talking to Joel during those first few days when you had no way of knowing what was real and what wasn’t. She’s lying next to you, covered in snow, one hand firmly wrapped around your arm. “What the fuck is going on here?”

You’re being lifted up by a strong hand wrapped tightly around the collar of your shirt. A desperate gasp escapes you as Joel lifts you out of the snow. His eyes are bright with rage, his breath is a hot cloud between your faces, and it doesn’t look like he’s going to let go soon. If anything, his grip turns harder as he twists your collar in his hand.

“What are you doing?” the woman snaps at him.

“I untied her and she made a run for it.” His honesty surprises you, even if there are other issues right now you should focus on.

“Let go of her,” the woman orders, and there’s just a brief moment of hesitation. Then you’re dropped to the ground, crumpling into a heap in the snow.

The woman sighs and pushes herself to her feet. “Come on,” she hisses at you, pulling your arm. “Get up.”

You try to tear yourself loose, even if your entire body is screaming for you to stop fighting and give in. “No,” you grunt through gritted teeth. “Let me go.”

She laughs in your face. “And where do you want to go, sweetheart? Look around. You’re stuck here, whether you like it or not.”

You look around at her words but you only see the same trees and mountains you saw before, and you still feel like you’d rather die in the woods than live with this helplessness any longer.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” she groans. “Come on.” And with that she pulls you up like you weigh nothing and shoves you. “Get moving.”

You should probably put up a fight – if 15 years living in this world have taught you anything, it’s that the strong survive. It should feel like this situation has just gone from bad to worse, but there is something about the way Joel lowers his head as you walk past him that gives you pause. And you might be imagining it but the woman’s grip feels less hard. It’s not that you think they’re good people, but you’ve been here for more than three weeks and if they had wanted to hurt you, they’ve had plenty of opportunity so far.

*******

“Why am I here?” you ask. You’re sitting at the table, a steaming bowl of soup in front of you, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. “What do you want from me?”

The woman, Tess, sits opposite you. In front of her on the table is a loaded gun. It’s as if she’s taunting you. You could reach for the gun, try to shoot her, but she’s faster than you and you’d be dead before you’re fully out of the chair. Joel leans against the door, arms crossed in front of his chest. Maybe his lack of trust hurts you, maybe it’s an uncomfortable pull near your heart, but you also can’t blame him. There is a bruise forming on his temple where you hit him with the handcuffs. You don’t even remember doing it.

“We don’t want anything from you,” Tess answers, and it’s just as unhelpful as Joel’s non-committal grunts.

“Then let me leave.”

Tess shakes her head. “No.” Before you can protest, she adds, “You still need some time to recover.”

“Why are you helping me?” The question is directed at Joel but he keeps quiet.

“You were almost killed, remember that?” It sounds almost like an accusation, the way Tess says it. “We found you and brought you here.”

“Why?” It baffles you. They must have an ulterior motive.

“Where I’m from, you don’t just leave people to bleed out in the snow.”

You laugh at that. “Where I’m from you do. Has it ever occurred to you there might be a reason why I was almost killed?”

“There’s always a reason,” Tess says with a nod. “No one can afford innocence.”

You look at her for the first time, really look. She might be around Joel’s age, but it’s not easy for you to tell. She has long, brown hair that is starting to gray, and wrinkles around her mouth and eyes. The look she gives you is cold, hard, but beneath all that there is something else – it’s as if she’s forcing herself to put up a front. Before, when you came in, she took off the heavy winter coat she was wearing. Now she sits opposite you, dressed in a dark sweater that is tattered along the edges. A second gun is strapped to her side with a leather shoulder holster. It looks new.

“And you don’t care about the reason at all?” you press. “Maybe I murdered ten FEDRA officers.”

“Those guys who were trying to kill you weren’t FEDRA.” Joel’s voice is deep, almost hoarse.

You definitely don’t want to talk about that so you change the subject. “If I’m that innocent, why not let me go?”

Tess just glares at you.

“Oh, come on,” you groan. “I’m grateful and all, but I really deserve some answers, don’t you think?”

“It’s the truth,” Tess says after a brief moment of contemplation. “We found you in the woods, we decided to look after you until you were better. You aren’t fully healed yet and we’d like you to stay with us until you have recovered.”

“And what do you want from me in return?”

Tess doesn’t look like she’s going to answer you, but Joel does. “We need a third person to look after the compound, at least until the end of winter. If you want to repay us, you’re more than welcome to stay and pull your weight until the snow melts.”

“For real?” you ask. He’s joking, surely.

Tess nods at Joel. “You’re clearly capable. And you’re strong. We could use someone like you.” She hesitates. “Especially since I can’t be around most of the time.”

You prick up your ears at that. She’s giving you more information than she needs to give you, vital information about one of their weak spots. She probably doesn’t trust you, not fully, but she trusts you enough.

You clench your jaw and nod. “All right, but you have to start answering my questions honestly.”

*******

You’re high up in the mountains, far away from whatever is left of civilization as you know it. No one comes up here – no humans and certainly no infected. It’s just Joel and Tess, at least during the winter. In summer, when the weather clears and the snow melts, they will go back to Boston. Until then, they’re in charge of a warehouse of ammo and guns. They are in charge of a stockroom full of food. And the people who put them in charge aren’t FEDRA.

Mostly, it’s just Joel up here. Tess leaves for weeks on end, travelling around the country on errands they don’t tell you about. Trust only goes so far. And when she comes back, she never stays for longer than a day or two. It’s their third winter up here, Joel’s third winter of being mostly on his own. They both don’t want to come next year, but they go where they’re sent. Tess also makes it clear that it’s best if the people in charge never find out about you staying here.

Here. It’s not home, not exactly, but it’s the safest you’ve felt in a long time. Joel and Tess call it the Overlook. The main building they kept you in, a warehouse where they keep the ammo, the stockroom, and a tower, tall and menacing, that they use as an outlook. Most days, you can’t see much up there. Winter is cold and gray in these parts, the clouds hang low almost every day or it’s snowing constantly. You haven’t seen the sun in weeks.

It’s not easy work what they expect of you. It’s back-breaking, skin-tearing kind of work, but it feels so good to be doing something. Especially now that you’re fully healed you focus on getting back your strength. Seeing the progress and noticing how much more your body can take with each passing day gives you a grim satisfaction. The first time Joel let you out of the house you couldn’t even make it to the fence and back without almost collapsing in the snow. Today, you’re outside, setting traps to catch rabbits, climbing trees, helping Joel skin and gut a deer he shot. And you don’t feel tired. You feel alive, driven by purpose.

Joel’s naked hands and wrists are covered in blood, his face is grim and set. It took you some time to learn that he’s not angry when he looks like this, but that he’s concentrating and you definitely shouldn’t interrupt him when his brow is furrowed like that. So you watch as he works, grunting with the strain of it, his knife quick and fast in his hands. There is no point in carrying a whole animal back to the Overlook; it’s better to carve out the parts you want to use here and now.

Joel has taught you so much in the time you’ve been with him. Sometimes you wonder how you were able to survive the first 15 years without him. And sometimes you wish you could stay with him into spring and all the way through summer and fall, even though both he and Tess made it clear that it’s not possible.

A crack cuts through the silence of the forest, as if something – or someone – close to you just stepped on a twig. Joel drops the knife so fast you almost don’t see it fall. The rifle is in his hands, he’s up on his feet, pointing it into the general direction the sound came from all before your hand has moved to the gun hanging at your side. Three birds take flight, their flapping wings almost as loud as the step you heard. But other than that, nothing moves in the snow-covered forest.

“Maybe it was just an animal,” you dare point out.

“Yeah, maybe,” Joel says through gritted teeth, still observing the trees and the spaces between them.

You know not to say anything more or give any advice until Joel has decided it’s safe to continue his task. You haven’t been living out here for years, you haven’t even been living outside high walls that much. It’s not your place to question Joel or any judgement he makes regarding safety. But, soon enough, he lowers his rifle and falls back onto his knees with a grunt. There is a lot of work left to do and it will get dark soon.

You watch as his knife glides under the deer’s skin, separating it from the meat and muscle beneath. A pungent smell fills the air around you and you wonder if you might be attracting other animals, like wolves. You hear them howling at night, higher up in the mountains, too far away to be of much concern. But the winter is hard and there isn’t much meat to spare. You’re an easy target for a pack of apex predators close to starvation.

Joel puts the knife down next to his knee and begins to pull, tearing away the deer’s skin with a sickening sound. And then, before you can offer Joel help to roll over the big carcass, something jumps Joel with a shout, pushing him to the ground. It all happens so fast you can’t shout a warning – you didn’t even see the assailant coming even though Joel told you to be on the lookout. Your surprised shout comes too late.

A man pushes Joel to the ground. You can’t make out his face, but it’s covered in a trimmed, black beard. Joel, taken by surprise, raises his hands to protect his face, but the man has a knife clasped in a fist, its blade gleaming in the afternoon light.

“Joel, watch out!” you shout, but there is nothing you can do.

The man brings down the knife in a slashing motion, cutting into the red skin on Joel’s wrist. Joel doesn’t scream – he doesn’t even grunt. Instead, as the man draws back for a second attack, Joel punches him so hard he rolls off and Joel can get to his feet. The man assumes a crouching position immediately, apparently unfazed by Joel’s punch. He’s hunching down low, the knife still in his hand, twirling the handle, trying to get a firm grip on it. Joel glares at him, calculating, his face masked in concentration.

You calculate too – how long would it take for Joel to grab the rifle and fire it? Too long. What about the knife? The attacker is squatting between him and the blade. Could you help him? You don’t dare to when you see Joel’s furrowed brow.

The man jumps in Joel’s direction and Joel manages to grab both his wrists and push, so he stumbles back again. With a sickening grin on his face, the man approaches a second time, slower, blade outstretched in front of him. Joel doesn’t take his eyes off the weapon for a second and it’s the first time you see him, that cold, calculating man who knows he has to kill to survive. Sure enough, the man attacks again, going for Joel’s stomach, an easy target since Joel opened his jacket when he was working on the deer. Joel jumps back two steps and the man stumbles. A death sentence.

Joel is on him in a split second, pushing him to the ground, not caring that his face comes dangerously close to the blade. The other man shouts out in surprise as Joel climbs on top of him, his teeth bared. He pins the man’s arms to the ground with his knees, the effort bringing an angry flush to his cheeks, then reaches over the man’s head to where his own knife is lying on the ground. That’s when you know it’s over. Joel buries the fingers of his left hand in the man’s long, straggly hair and pulls to expose his throat.

It’s just one slash. Just one quick move of Joel’s arm and the man stops kicking, struggling, fighting for his life. You don’t look away. You watch as warm blood spills onto the snow that’s now dirty with soil kicked up during the struggle. You watch bubbles of blood form on the man’s lips, hear his last gurgling breath. You watch Joel hold him down, breathing hard, knife raised for a second cut if necessary. Joel’s eyes are empty.

“Let’s finish up here,” he grunts, pushing himself to his feet.

You want to apologize for having failed him, but you’re still too frozen to speak. Even though the whole altercation was shorter than a minute, you struggle with what you just witnessed. Not with the killing – you’ve seen enough of that and you know it was self-defense – but with the speed with which it all went down, with how quickly a life can be taken if you miscalculate and fuck with the wrong person.

“You’re bleeding.” It’s not much, but it’s something.

Joel looks down at his wrist as if he’s only just noticing the injury himself. “It’s okay,” he says, then kneels down and cuts a piece of cloth out of the man’s shirt to tie it around the cut. “Let’s finish up here before it gets dark.”

You nod, then watch him shove the man’s body away from the carcass. There’s nothing you can do to help him with the body or the deer, and you fight down a feeling of uselessness and helplessness. Now is neither the time nor the place to feel sorry for yourself. You can do that later in the privacy of your own room.

Joel finishes up fast, wraps the meat into old sheets he’s brought along, then stows them in his backpack. You get your own load to carry back to the Overlook. The trek back you spend in silence; Joel marches ahead with purpose, you follow, a queasy feeling in your stomach. What if the man wasn’t alone? What if his group is nearby, waiting for an opportunity to attack? Joel can fight off one attacker, maybe even two, but he’s wounded and exhausted from a day of hard work and you’ve proven today that you’re not much use in a fight. Luckily, there is no need for you to worry. You safely arrive back at the Overlook and breathe freely again once the gate shuts behind you.

“Here,” you say once Joel has locked the door to the main building. You’re standing behind a chair, offering Joel a seat. “Let me take a look at that cut.”

He nods and lets himself fall into the seat, the wood groaning beneath his weight. “There’s a first aid kit under the sink.”

You don’t tell him that you know – it’s best if he doesn’t realize how much you’ve been snooping around. So you get the first aid kit without a word and put it down next to the pot of steaming water you boiled while Joel was putting away the meat. Finding some clean towels or even just pieces of fabric wasn’t easy but you managed.

The cut isn’t long but deep, and it takes you a while to clean it. Joel doesn’t complain, but flinches from time to time when you use too much pressure. It will leave a scar but it isn’t his first and it won’t be his last. You don’t have any disinfectant since most of it expired years ago, but someone put a small bottle of clean, stinging alcohol in the kit and you use that to battle any possible infection. It’s the only time Joel hisses through gritted teeth.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t more vigilant,” you apologize while you’re bandaging the wrist. “You trusted me to keep a lookout and I failed you.”

“Yes, you did,” Joel agrees and even though you know you made a mistake it still stings to hear him confirm it. “Next time, don’t watch me. Keep your eyes on the forest.”

It’s only now, when he points it out, that you realize how much you must have been staring at him. Your face grows hot with shame and embarrassment. “It won’t happen again,” you promise, your eyes lowered, pretending to examine the bandage.

“It’s not just your fault,” Joel adds. “I should’ve been more careful after that twig snapped.”

His admission takes the sting out of it a little bit. “Is it hard to…” you trail off, struggling to find the words to the question that's on your mind.

You look at him for help, watch as a shadow clouds his features before seeing it pass and be replaced by disbelief. “You’ve never killed someone?”

“I have. Just… never like that, with a knife to their throat.”

“It ain’t different from using a gun,” he replies gruffly. “You end their life either way.”

Satisfied with your work on Joel’s arm, you let go of it, ignoring how empty your hands feel without the warmth of his skin against yours. “But you were so close to that man; you could watch him die, you saw him take his last breath, saw him slip away.”

“It was either him or me.” There’s a strain in Joel’s voice when he says it.

“It was him or us,” you correct him, not sure if that makes it better or worse. “I wouldn’t have been able to kill him on my own.”

“You’d be surprised how much you can do when your life is at stake,” he says with a cold laugh.

“Yeah,” you agree.

Then you both fall silent. It’s not until much later in the evening when you’re about to go to bed that he stops you with a hand on your arm, pulling you into the same chair you had him sit down in earlier.

“What happened to you?” he asks then. “Who were those men who were trying to kill you?”

You feel your body stiffen and your jaw tighten as you try to keep down the unpleasant memories of that night and of what came before. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Tough luck,” he growls. “It’s time you gave us some answers.”

The stab of jealousy you feel at his use of the word us is almost strong enough to defeat the rising panic. Almost. “Why?” you snap. “Because you saved my life today?”

“No.” Joel sits down in a chair opposite you so the table is between you. He fills two shot glasses with a cloudy, brown liquid and pushes one across the wood to you. “We trust you enough to let you stay. It’s time that trust was returned.”

You laugh coldly but wrap your fingers around the glass. “It’s not what you think.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?” The confrontational tone has gone from his voice. He knows he has you.

You make one last attempt to get out of the situation. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“The beginning is usually a good start.” You expect him to be smirking at you, but he isn’t. There isn’t even much expectation in his gaze. He knows you’re not leaving the table until you’ve given him some answers.

“Well,” you sigh, giving in. “The beginning is always Outbreak Day, isn’t it?”

He shrugs.

“I was luckier than most,” you go on. “I only lost my mother in the days afterwards. She was shot by soldiers because she was coughing. Back then, no one really knew what symptoms people displayed before turning, so they got rid of everyone who was sick one way or another. At least where I’m from.”

“And where’s that?” Joel asks.

“Montana,” you reply, fighting to keep down the memories of your mother crumbling to the ground, gunfire ringing out around you, the sound of it almost shattering your skull. Then you were screaming. And all your father did was tell you to move along. Even now, you’re still screaming sometimes when you dream about that day. “We lived in a small, rural community, but the military found everyone. At first, we thought we were safe. You heard rumors about the cities, but in my town, no one even turned until the second day.”

Joel has a curious look on his face now. “How old were you?”

“20,” you reply. “No, 21. It’s not that easy to keep track of time.” You shoot him an apologetic smile. “I was engaged to a guy from my town, we were supposed to take over my parents’ farm.”

“Is he still alive?”

You shrug. “I have no idea. I got rid of the engagement ring a long time ago.” You take a steadying breath. “After that, my dad and my brother and I went to live in the mountains. There were some vacation rentals up there we moved into with a small community of other survivors. We probably would have survived up there for years if my brother …” Tears prick behind your eyes. No, you’re not going to cry, not yet. This isn’t even the worst part.

“He died?” Joel guesses.

You shake your head. “We lived there for about half a year. I … I started seeing someone. I’m not proud of giving up on my fiancé that easily, but during those times … it really made you realize how short life is, and I wasn’t going to say no when Steve approached me. He was a few years older than me. He lived in Seattle but was visiting his parents when it happened. I kept the relationship secret from my family for the longest time but my brother eventually found out. And he was furious.” Your voice breaks on that last word and you swallow.

For the first time there is something like understanding in Joel’s face.

“My fiancé was his best friend in high school,” you go on. “By seeing Steve, I wasn’t only betraying him, I was also betraying my brother. And my father was on his side.” A cold laugh escapes you. “Maybe I deserved what happened afterwards. Maybe I should’ve waited a year before seeing someone new. Maybe I should’ve been honest with my dad and brother. But I also think that no matter what, they would’ve found a way to punish me.”

You’ve told this story once before, and the person you told it to was full of sympathy, interrupting you constantly, cursing your family for the way they treated you. Joel is quiet. He’s not trying to lead you or push you, he waits for you to tell him the story in your own time and on your own terms. It’s a change, but not an unwelcome one.

“My brother beat me until I could barely walk,” you say next. “I can’t be sure but I think my dad told him to. He was too calm and calculating when he did it for it to have come out of rage. They didn’t dare touch Steve, but they made sure we never saw each other again. There was this group our community traded with sometimes. I thought they were FEDRA at first because they were dressed in military uniforms, wore tac vests, had assault rifles … Once I had gotten better, my dad bound me and sold me to them.”

You feel a grim satisfaction at the shadow that passes over Joel’s face. He’s not indifferent after all.

“I think I don’t need to tell you what happened next.” The truth is you can’t. “I spent the next 14 years escaping, living with different communities, even living in a QZ for a while, being caught, escaping again. As a woman, alone, this world is very hard to survive in. Those men who were trying to kill me when you found me … they were from a community who took me in after I lost the last group I was with. They were friendly enough at first. I was assigned kitchen duty which was fine by me. But then that evolved into having to dance at parties, and that evolved into offering my body to anyone who wanted me. It was far from the first time this was happening to me. But then they forced me to sleep with the leader of that group, a violent man who had just killed a little girl the day before because she had spilled some wine onto his pants and … I couldn’t take it anymore. When he started beating me, I grabbed a knife and slashed his face. Then I ran.”

The silence that follows is unbearable. You know you’ve made mistakes in your life, but you haven’t even told Joel the worst part yet. Surely, he won’t throw you out based on what he knows.

“See?” Your laugh is hollow. “I told you it’s not what you think it is.”

“When we brought you in there were bruises on your legs,” he finally says. “There were cuts on your arms, scars and fresh ones. One of your eyes was swollen shut. I had a pretty good idea of what you’ve been through.”

It’s not much, but your breath catches in your throat nonetheless. He’s not judging you. He knows what you’ve been through, what you had to do to survive, and he accepts you for who you are.

You shrug. “Yeah. I hope that answers your question.”

Joel empties the glass in front of him with one big gulp. “It does put me at ease.”

You mirror him. “So, what about you? What’s your story?”

He bares his teeth at you. “That’s not how this works.”

“Oh, come on,” you groan.

He shakes his head. “It’s late, we have a lot to do tomorrow.”

“Will you tell me tomorrow then?” you press.

“No,” he answers. And that’s the end of it.

*******

It’s completely quiet in the middle of the night when you lie in bed and have nothing else to focus on than your thoughts. Joel is in the other room, the one off to the left side of the kitchen. Or maybe he isn’t. Maybe he left you all alone at the Overlook. You don’t hear another sound apart from your breathing, but you never do. Every night you wonder if he’s still going to be there in the morning, and every morning he is.

He’s still with you, even through the walls and closed doors between you. You spend every waking moment with him and in turn he haunts your dreams. Tonight though, sleep won’t come. Your mind is too preoccupied with the events of the day, too much in turmoil to settle down. Telling him your story brought back all kinds of memories, good as well as bad ones, things you can never get closure on. But no matter how hard you try to focus on the familiar pain, on the regret that is like an old friend to you, tonight your mind keeps wandering back to Joel in the woods, fighting for his life. He didn’t just kill so he could live, he killed to protect you too.

Your breathing gets heavy as you remember the look on his face, his flushed cheeks, the way he didn’t let anger or fear control him. He knew what needed to be done and he did it. You remember how he was straddling the man’s chest, pinning him down to immobilize him, gaining the upper hand even when the other had surprised him. You’ve never seen anyone kill like that. You’ve never felt so safe with anyone.

With a deep sigh you turn onto your back and stare up into the darkness. You can’t make out the ceiling but you know it’s there. Just as you can’t hear Joel but you know he’s just a room away – both thoughts comfort you. You try to focus on that comfort, try to preserve it, but the building tension between your legs demands your attention. Other memories start coming back. A few days ago, when Joel had been cleaning his rifle, his sleeves rolled up so they wouldn’t get in the way, his arms flexing with each movement. The way he didn’t complain when you cleaned his wound today. Last week when he had come back from moving crates around, drenched in sweat – the smell had been so prominent, had lingered for so long that you had to excuse yourself and go to bed early. And then today, restraining that man, killing him with one move, one cut.

Your fingers press against your clit through your underwear before you can stop yourself. Immediately, your entire body comes to life. You bite the back of your other hand to stifle a moan, but roll your hips up, chasing friction. It’s not like you haven’t thought about it before, like you haven’t thought about him before, but you’ve always managed to keep yourself under control. It’s too late for that now.

You move fast, kicking at your blanket, tearing your underwear off. Your knees fall open without the restraints, and you bury two fingers deep inside of you, clenching around them desperately. Is he that cool and collected when he fucks someone? Does he know what he wants and takes it? You like to think so. An image comes to you: you, spread out on his bed, maybe even on your stomach, and him thrusting into you without uttering a word. The only sound you can hear are his low grunts. You wish you could give him that, be there for him like that.

When you think about him gripping your hair to bend your back, to make you writhe and moan, the pressure between your legs becomes unbearable. You release your hand, sure your teeth left markings in the skin, and press your fingers against your clit. The moan of relief echoes around your quiet room. Working your fingers in and out of yourself and circling your clit, you can feel yourself rushing toward an orgasm, accompanied by an image of Joel above you, his broad shoulders caging you in, fucking into you, breaking out of the restraints he puts himself in. Your breathing becomes more ragged, louder, and that cautious part of your brain that’s been trained to be quiet for 15 years urges you to be more careful. But how can you when you think back to how easy it was for Joel to defend himself today? How easy it would be for him to take from you exactly what he wants, what he needs.

You turn your head to the side, determined to stifle a desperate moan against your pillow, but before you can take any precautions, the tension that’s been building inside of you snaps; you come hard, working your fingers inside as deep as they will go. You don’t mean to voice your deepest desires, but you can’t stop yourself.

“Fuck, Joel! Yes!”

It hangs there in the thick air afterwards, your desires no longer a secret, at least not in front of yourself.

*******

Tess returns two days later, and that door you’d been opening further and further with Joel falls shut again. Or maybe you’re using Tess’s appearance as an excuse to distance yourself from Joel.

He didn’t hear you that night, you’re sure of it; he doesn’t look at you differently, he doesn’t treat you differently. But something has changed and it’s your fault. Even though you slept better than you had in years after that night, you can’t help but feel ashamed, too. You’re more careful around him now, awkward at times, scared he’ll take one look at you and know. Joel doesn’t look at you the same way you do at him.

So when Tess comes back and Joel spends time with her, bringing her up to speed on things at the Overlook, you can’t be entirely sure it’s them shutting you out or you’re withdrawing. It’s so easy to blame them. It’s so easy to feel resentment when they go out together, even when they try to sell it to you as leaving you in charge. It’s so easy to fall asleep with your stomach tied into a knot because they both go to the other room at night. That’s also partly your fault. After all, they have to share a bedroom because they gave the other one to you. But it’s still easier to tell yourself they’re excluding you on purpose instead of analyzing why you come up with excuses every time Joel asks you to help him with something.

On Tess’s third morning at the Overlook, she offers to show you the top of the tower. It’s a clear day, sunny and bitingly cold. You’d be able to see for miles. And even though you’ve been here so many days you’ve lost count by now, you’ve never been up the tower. It’s not important to Joel and you never asked him. So you agree to Tess’s suggestion.

The climb to the top is hard, the steps are higher than what you’re used to, and you’re out of breath fast. Your wound, almost fully healed by now, starts acting up halfway up the tower, but you grit your teeth and push through. You’re not going to look weak in front of Tess. But once you reach the top, sweat is running down your face and back, and she makes you sit down on a crate.

“Not a lot of people push through on their first climb,” she tells you, leaning against the wall next to you. “Joel hates coming up here, says it’s because of his knees.”

“Shouldn’t someone be keeping watch though?” you ask, trying to hide how hard you’re breathing. “That’s what this place is supposed to be, isn’t it?”

Tess nods. “It was, at first. In the beginning, it was used by a group of people who were looking out for survivors. Then it was used as an outpost by FEDRA. But after a couple of years, everyone gave up on it. There are hardly any survivors left who haven’t settled down in a QZ or are tied to another group. And those who aren’t don’t want to be found.”

“Like Joel,” you mumble under your breath.

“Come on.” Tess pushes your shoulder. “Get up. Let me show you the view.”

You try not to let the awe you’re feeling show on your face, but Tess’s knowing smirk means you’re failing. “You can almost see the ocean from here!”

Tess laughs. “Not quite, but close enough.”

You’re so high up in the mountains that you are looking out over some of the nearer peaks at the forests and lakes beyond. The day is so clear you can see two or three smoke columns from other camps but they’re too far away to worry you. The brilliantly white snow and the endless blue sky are so bright you have to shield your eyes with your hand. Standing behind the glass at the top of the tower makes you feel truly free for the first time since that horrible night.

“This was here the entire time?” you ask, meaning it as a rhetorical question. “I could have seen this every day?”

“Most days the clouds hang too low to see much,” Tess answers. “But on days like these, coming up here makes you feel like you can fly.”

You tear your eyes away from the view before you and glance at her. There’s a wistful smile on her face, like she’s buried herself deep in a happy memory that is none of your business. This might be the first time you truly see her, the first time you look beyond her graying hair and the hardness in her eyes, the first time you look beyond the uneasy feeling you get when you see her and Joel together. The fact that she’s letting her guard down around you, even if it’s just for a few short moments, moves you. It’s more than Joel has given you so far. What you see is a woman who went through unspeakable things to stay alive, a woman who knows how to survive in a world where everything is out to get you, a woman who looks beyond the selfishness of most people. In that moment you’re sure that if her death meant she could keep Joel safe, she would welcome it with a smile on her face.

But then that jealousy comes back ten times stronger. And Tess closes up.

“Joel told me what happened to you,” she says without warning.

“He did what?” Jealousy is joined by a feeling of having been betrayed. It’s so sudden that you can’t stop the anger from bubbling up.

“Don’t be angry with him,” Tess sighs. “It’s part of the deal. What he knows, I know. Why do you think we’re still alive?”

“He didn’t tell me about that deal when he forced me to tell him,” you snap.

“Oh, don’t be naïve.” Her words feel like a slap. “We need to know who we’re taking in.”

“Yeah, well.” The anger burns bright red in your chest now. “Who says I was telling the truth? Who says anything about that story is true?”

Tess looks at you curiously, like a cat who is deciding if catching a bird high up on a branch is worth the effort. “Why would you make up a story like that?”

You can’t think of a single good reason.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” Tess goes on.

“Thanks,” you spit. “Don’t you think I know that?” You don’t, because it isn’t true.

“Joel and I, we … we can make sure you’re safe from now on. There are places …”

“I don’t need your charity.” You expect her to lose patience. For most people offering to help you, it doesn’t take more than this. Except she doesn’t. She looks at you like she understands, like she knows exactly what you’re going through, and the fact that she doesn’t pity you makes you bold.

“You’re right not to trust me. Joel and you … you don’t really know me. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

“You survived 15 years of torture and abuse. You’re capable of a great many things.”

The fact that she sees you unnerves you. “I didn’t tell Joel the whole story, so don’t think you have me all figured out.”

“I know you didn’t.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Joel, he … he’s not the best at understanding people. Not because the compassion isn’t there, but because he has his own shit to deal with. But I can see there’s something bothering you. It’s eating you up from the inside and if you don’t let it out, it’ll kill you.”

You laugh coldly. “Thanks, but I don’t need your advice on what’s killing me.”

“Tell me or don’t,” she says with a shrug. “But I promise you, whatever it is, it won’t leave this room.”

You want to believe her but you know you shouldn’t. You couldn’t trust people before Outbreak Day and you certainly can’t trust them now. “What about your deal with Joel?”

“I make the rules around here,” she answers with another shrug. “And if it’s something he doesn’t need to know, then he doesn’t need to know.”

You take a deep breath, then another one. She waits patiently while your mind is spinning, trying to decide whether you can trust her or not. Weren’t you just wishing for someone who always has your back, someone you can rely on? But maybe that’s the reason she let her guard down around you … she wants you to think you can trust her. And once she knows the full truth, she won’t hesitate to throw you out. No one can ever trust you again after what you did.

“I’m not trying to trick you.” It’s like Tess can read your mind. “I can see you’re in pain and I want to help you.”

You huff. “No one can.”

“Try me.” It sounds like she’s challenging you – and that’s exactly the push you needed.

“Everyone thinks they have to do such terrible things to survive, but then you ask them about it and it’s just, ‘Yeah, one time I stole this loaf of bread from this old man and kicked him,’ as if people weren’t doing that well before Outbreak Day. And I think … I think most people stay human, no matter what. They see all those horrible things, and pain and suffering and death, and manage to go on. Maybe it’s because they have people relying on them, maybe it’s because that’s just who they are. And I think that whatever you do, you should be forgiven if it’s for the right reasons. Even if you kill someone.”

“Who will judge if you did something for the right reasons?” Tess interjects. “At the end of the day, you only have to justify your actions in front of yourself.”

“Morals, I guess.” Your throat feels tight all of a sudden. “If you round up women and children for your soldiers to use as target practice, then you’re a bad person, apocalypse or not.”

“Not necessarily. If those soldiers gain skills to protect 10,000 more women and children, aren’t a few deaths justified?”

“That’s not the point … Okay, what if you get someone killed? Someone you were supposed to love? And they died because you weren’t there for them when they needed you the most?”

“You made a mistake. You decided to save yourself instead of dying to save someone else. That just makes you human.”

“What if … what if Joel sends you to the next town for some supplies, and you know it’s dangerous, and you ask him to come with you, and he says no, one person will be less suspicious. But you won’t stop pleading, and the only reason Joel doesn’t want to go is because he knows how dangerous it is and he thinks, ‘Better her than me’. So, to get you to go, he promises he’ll come for you if something bad happens. Only he doesn’t. Not when he hears you’ve been captured. Not when they parade you around, stripped naked, tied to a pickup. Not even when they offer the crowd a deal: his life for yours. He doesn’t even come to recover your broken body. He just leaves you there.”

You don’t realize you’ve started crying but Tess raises a hand and wipes the tears off your cheek. “I would forgive him,” she says. “Sometimes we do selfish things for selfish reasons. Sometimes we do them out of fear. Sometimes the enemy we’re faced with is so powerful we feel so helpless we can’t move. Joel didn’t force me to go into town – in the end, I went out of my own free will, knowing the risk.”

“But wouldn’t you hate him when he doesn’t come to save you, like he promised?”

“Sure,” she says with a weak smile, wiping your other cheek dry. “For a while, maybe. But I wouldn’t blame him. Maybe that’s something that’s unique to our relationship, I don’t know. We know exactly what we can ask of the other.”

You and Julia, you hadn’t known that. And you’ve been wondering – if your positions would have been reversed, would she have come for you? You doubt it. But still … for 15 years you wished that someone would come and save you, telling yourself you wouldn’t leave anyone behind. And the second you had to prove yourself, you got scared.

“But doesn’t that make me a bad person? Someone you shouldn’t trust? I shouldn’t get to choose who lives and who dies.”

Tess sighs. “I don’t think it’s that easy. You always have a choice, and choosing to save yourself over another person doesn’t necessarily make you evil. Sometimes the best thing we can do is look out for ourselves.”

“But you would’ve saved Joel, right?”

That makes Tess laugh. “Of course I would have. But not because I think it would make me a good person, but because I don’t see how I could go on if he’s dead.” She says it like it’s the easiest, most natural thing in the entire world. “Maybe I got it wrong, too. Maybe I should close myself off more, think more about myself. Maybe I would live longer if I did. But that’s my choice. And I choose to stick with him, no matter what.”

It makes sense what she’s saying. If you had known Julia better, if you had loved her, maybe it would have been easy to follow her into death. But you were basically strangers who had known each other for a couple of months. You also wouldn’t ask Joel and Tess to rescue you. The only thing is … they already did, and you were a stranger to them.

“How do you know what people are worth dying for?” you ask her, feeling dumb. It makes you sound like a child.

“You never know. Not until it happens. I’ve heard stories about people who, before everything, thought they were strong protectors, who’d lead their families through every storm life sent their way. And then they bolted at the first sign of danger.”

“Not you and Joel though.”

“Believe me, we’ve made mistakes too.” She gives you a grim smile. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of, things I deserve to die for, probably. But I’ve also done good things, like helping you. You have to find a balance.”

You nod, feeling hot tears run down your cheeks again. That you’re still here unnerves you. Tess should have chased you away; at least that’s what you were expecting her to do. Instead, she opens her arms and pulls you into a hug. You immediately press into her and sling your arms around her shoulders. Maybe you don’t deserve her kindness, but it’s her choice to look after you, and you won’t push her away for it. For the first time in a long time, you feel the burden grow lighter and your heart beat a little freer.

*******

That night, you can’t find sleep. The conversation with Tess is still on your mind. It opened some barely healed wounds you let fester over the last few months, and now the burning is keeping you awake. If Tess is able to see beyond your mistakes, you should be able to do that too. But Julia’s screams still come to you every time you close your eyes. No matter what Tess says, you don’t believe she has done anything equally as bad as this.

There is something about Tess that unnerves you, something you can’t quite put your finger on. She appears to be so strong, but in a different way than Joel, one that is harder to define. Still, the notion that she’s in charge around here makes you want to laugh. You’ve spent enough time with Joel to know how he runs things, and he would never take orders from anyone, not even Tess. It doesn't take away that you think Tess is very capable of doing the things she talked about. If worst comes to worst, she would die for Joel - so would you, but there's less conviction behind your resolution. It wouldn't be the first time you overestimated yourself.

Then again, Joel doesn’t need anyone to die for him, and it’s presumptuous of Tess to think he does. Julia would have needed someone willing to die for her, someone who wasn’t you. You could see it in her rounded shoulders, hear it in her pleading voice. But Joel is nothing like Julia. And Tess is nothing like you.

A stab of jealousy shoots through your body, not directed at Tess this time. You just wish you had someone like Joel in your life, someone you could rely on, someone you knew had your back. It would make dying for them so much easier. You realize that someone like Joel is very quickly turning into just Joel, and you have to confront the fact that your time here is limited, and that you’re not going to share that bond with him that Tess shares, because they will send you away as soon as the snow clears. It’s unfair. If it was just Joel, you could get him to let you stay, but Tess is so focused on her rules and the mission that she won’t make an exception. Not even if she liked you more. And right now, you don’t think Joel cares either way.

Jealousy turns into helplessness, and helplessness opens your eyes wide, making you stare at the dark ceiling. It’s late, it’s cold, you should be asleep by now, but your throat is dry and itchy, and swallowing is painful. What you need is a glass of water. You kick off the covers and stand up, your naked feet hitting the ice-cold floor with a loud slap. You shiver and sling your arms around yourself, careful to avoid the bullet hole in your side. It’s just a few seconds and you’ll be back under the warm covers.

Quickly, you make your way to the kitchen, only pausing briefly by the door to make sure Joel and Tess already went to bed. You don’t really feel like talking to either of them right now. But the kitchen is dark and deserted and no one stops you when you go straight for the water canister. You pour yourself a glass and gulp it down, then pour yourself another one to bring to your room. Your feet are ice cold now and you hurry back over to your door.

Only then you hear it – a faint moan or grunt, and a creaking sound, like someone is writhing in bed, possibly in pain. You’re wide awake now. Was the Overlook attacked while you were lying in bed, feeling sorry for yourself? Did someone break in? Is someone in the room with Joel and Tess? Carefully, you put your glass down on the kitchen table and make your way across the room to their door, trying to stay as quiet as possible. Your cold feet forgotten, you’re determined to find out what’s going on. If there’s someone in the house with you, you won’t run from danger again.

As soon as you’re in front of the door, you hear the moan again, but now you’re less certain it’s one of pain. A different kind of panic grips you, one that is not connected to any danger but the sense that you shouldn’t be here. Then you hear a low grunt, deep and guttural, and you know it’s Joel. You know it is Joel and Tess, and they’re … You’re listening now, really listening, and you can hear all the subtle, repressed gasps, you can hear an urgent whisper, you can hear the sound of naked skin moving against naked skin.

Your face grows hot with shame and you stumble backward, indifferent to any noise you might be making. Let them know you know. They should, and they should apologize. The cocktail of emotions you’re feeling as you rush to your room is a dangerous one: jealousy, hurt, confusion. You feel so fucking stupid. Of course they’re sleeping together! How could you have been so blind? And yet, you still feel led on, like they were toying with you when they were just trying to be nice. This discovery is a slap in the face, a reminder of what you can never have. They both know how hurt and lonely you are and yet it has never crossed their minds to tell you just how deep their connection goes.

You refuse to cry. Joel didn’t mean to hurt you. He probably wasn’t keeping this from you on purpose. But Tess? Didn’t she say she’s making the rules? It was her decision not to tell you she and Joel are a couple, it was her decision to make you look like a fool. It’s so easy to focus all your anger on her because you really thought that by opening up to them, they would let you in, in turn. Instead, they are still keeping vital information from you, waiting for you to stumble across it.

At least Tess is leaving tomorrow. You might not get to have Joel the way you wanted to, you might feel embarrassed about your crush now, about how easily you opened up to him, but at least you won’t have to see Tess anymore. At least it’s just going to be you and Joel again. So it doesn’t really matter. It doesn’t really matter they’re fucking.

You don’t find sleep that night. Your thoughts are too loud, the weight of the world is too heavy. You can’t stop straining your ear, afraid you’ll hear them again. Hoping you’ll hear them again. Because once you’ve calmed down, once your anger has dissipated in part, you feel something else. The moans and grunts are playing on a loop in your head, and once they stop fueling your anger, they start fueling your desire. You don’t do anything about that pull low in your stomach, the pressure between your legs, but you also don’t try to distract yourself. And a part of you is angry with them for not telling you because it feels like they’re excluding you when all you want to do is join them.

****** The next morning, you stay in bed until you’re sure Tess has left. You don’t feel like seeing her, mostly because you have no idea how you would react to her. Joel is easier that way. He never makes you feel wanted or unwanted. The both of you just exist in the same space, working together quietly. It’s exactly what you need today. So once you come out of your room, you try not to look at Joel too closely. Is his hair more disheveled than usual? Do his cheeks look rosy? Are the bags under his eyes less heavy? Whatever, it doesn’t matter.

“Sleep well?” he asks as he puts down a mug of coffee in front of you.

“Yes,” you lie. “How about you?”

“Same,” he says with a shrug. Then he looks at you with raised eyebrows. “Did you leave a glass of water on the table yesterday?”

Hot panic grips you unexpectedly but you force yourself to keep breathing evenly. “I might have. I don’t remember. Why?”

“You shouldn’t do that,” he says, but it doesn’t feel like a rebuke, just a fact. “It can get cold at night; you don’t want the water to turn to ice. The glass could burst.”

“Okay, it won’t happen again.”

And just like that, the issue is resolved. Being with Joel is so much easier than being with Tess.

You spend the day tending to the horses and checking the fence for weak spots. Joel spends his cleaning his weapons and counting the supply in the storeroom. The sun is out again, and it feels warm against your cheeks, even making you sweat as the day moves toward noon. You might have a few short weeks left before spring is here, before Tess will force you to leave. And then you’ll be on your own again.

Joel joins you when you’re working on repairing a tear in the fence, his quick hands making short work of cutting the wire and reinforcing the hole. You want to watch him work, determined to make the most out of your last weeks with him. But today, you catch yourself glancing at the forest and the mountains frequently, almost as if you can’t bear to look at him.

Why don’t you stand up for me? you want to ask. But you don’t. You know the answer, and hearing him admit it would only hurt you – more than the unspoken question anyway. A tight knot in your stomach makes it hard for you to focus on the task at hand. It demands all your attention by chewing and clawing and spitting, like a wild animal trapped in a tiny space. Should you let it out? No, Joel isn’t the one to blame, he isn’t the one you should focus your anger on. Still, you can’t help but feel stupid, stupid and betrayed. It’s your own fault for thinking you had found someone in Joel who wants to keep you, someone who likes having you around, who trusts you enough to rely on you, to seek comfort when the nights are cold and lonely. Why did he keep his relationship with Tess a secret from you? You know the answer to that. Why does she have such a strong hold over him he does whatever she asks of him?

“You okay?” he grunts somewhere to your left.

You’re not. “Yes, sorry. I’m just thinking.”

He makes a sound between a sigh and a cough. “Pass me the pliers?”

You hand him the tool without looking at him. He can probably see it all on your face, and the last thing you want to do is talk about it. But you allow yourself to look at his hands, reddened from the cold, calloused from years of hard labor, swiftly working to repair something broken by harsh weather and time. And you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have those same hands roam across your body, worshipping every inch of it. The guilt of that fantasy almost drowns you, but it’s a familiar pain.

Without warning, a deep rumble fills the forest, shaking snow off sagging branches. Airplane is the first thing that comes to your mind, even though that’s impossible. There hasn’t been one of those landing or taking off in 15 years. To your right, you see a white cloud rise over the treetops, ice and snow glinting in the afternoon sun before swallowing the light with dusty gray fangs. You’ve never seen anything like it, and even though you’re far enough away from it to not feel threatened, it still makes you want to run and seek shelter.

“What is that?” you ask, pointing at the cloud.

“Avalanche,” Joel answers. “The warm weather softens the snow and it slides away.”

“Are we in danger?”

When Joel doesn’t answer immediately, you’re forced to turn and look at him. His brow is furrowed and his mouth is a thin, hard line. His hand is wrapped around the pliers, knuckles white.

“Are we?” you press.

“No,” he finally says, voice low with strain, “but Tess went that way this morning.”

******* It’s a long afternoon, the longest since you arrived at the Overlook. Joel wants to go out and look for Tess, you beg him not to. You’re not proud of the desperation in your voice, the way you fall to your knees when he refuses to listen, but you can’t bear the thought of being left alone in this place, waiting for hours or even days for some news, coming closer and closer to accepting a horrible, inevitable truth. If they’re both dead, you’ll die too.

Joel doesn’t listen to you, of course. He has a duty to fulfil, and you can’t resent him for it, even though you hate him for a short while. But then he’s gone and you’re all alone, and you’d do anything to get him back. You don’t think about what Tess’s death would mean for you, because you’re scared of what you might discover about yourself; you’re worried about her, but you’re not terrified like Joel. And what if she doesn’t come back? Wouldn’t your life stay the same, improve even?

When the sun sets, two figures approach the compound. You only notice because you’re outside with the horses, too nervous to sit cooped up in the kitchen where everything smells of stale smoke and him. Reaching for the gun in the holster at your side, you’re painfully aware of the vulnerable position you’re in, all alone, far away from anyone who could help you. But before you can take cover, you recognize Tess from the way she pushes her hair out of her face, and you recognize Joel by his gait, a slight limp. You barely manage to stifle a sob.

“The way is blocked,” Joel tells you once you’re back inside. He takes off his jacket and stows away his rifle. “We’ll have to wait for it to clear.”

You don’t really know what that means. Tess doesn’t say anything but slumps down in one of the chairs around the kitchen table.

“Are you okay?” you ask her, not sure if she’s hurt or just exhausted.

“I’m not,” she snaps. You flinch back. “This sets us back weeks.”

Joel puts a comforting hand on her shoulder and squeezes. She takes his hand and squeezes back. Your heart squeezes too.

“What do you mean, weeks?” you push. “Aren’t you going to leave tomorrow?”

“I’m not,” Tess answers, tension in her jaw. “Joel just told you we’ll have to wait until the snow melts.”

“The road is blocked,” Joel adds. “We’re cut off. We could try and go through the woods but …”

“… but we’d get lost,” Tess finishes for him.

“I’m sorry. I – I didn’t know,” you stammer. How long until the snow melts? You look between Joel and Tess, the unspoken question on the tip of your tongue. Tess can’t leave until the snow melts. You have to leave once it does. You’re never going to have Joel to yourself again. That sudden realization hits you like a wave of grief. So much unsaid. And with Tess there, you don’t stand a chance.

“Excuse me,” you mumble, throat tight. The door to your room closes with a loud bang behind you.

*******

The thing you dread most is the thing you desire most, too. It’s an impossible situation, one that makes you reel from its power. Giving in would be easiest. Avoid Tess (and avoid Joel, too), keep your head down, pray for spring to come. But a part of you wants to fight for a few last moments of happiness, for a chance to feel like you belong somewhere before having to face an uncertain future that holds nothing but death. Tess can have him for the rest of their lives. You just want him for an hour or so. But you’re immobilized, curled up under your blanket, fighting back tears. Why is it that whenever something good happens to you in this Godforsaken world, it gets taken away immediately? And why can’t you find anyone to blame? Not even Tess? You understand her, you feel for her, you would probably do the same if your positions were reversed, but why does she have to make everything so difficult with her probing questions and her cruel rules?

If the avalanche hadn’t happened, you’d be preparing dinner now. Joel would mend his clothes or peel potatoes or check the perimeter. And after a quiet meal, he’d talk to you. Or he’d offer you an old paperback to read. Or you’d challenge him to a game of cards. Instead, it’s Tess who’s preparing dinner tonight. It’s Tess who will lead the conversation, Tess who will command Joel’s attention. And it’s going to be like this until the day she’s making you leave. Should you submit to her? Spend the final weeks moping? Or should you try to make the best out of a terrible situation? Before your injury, you’d have picked the first option. Now you’re not so sure anymore.

Joel and Tess are both sitting around the dinner table when you finally come out of your room. There’s a pot of stew on the stove and three empty plates next to that, waiting to be filled. You sit down without a word, facing them, pretending the day hasn’t happened. You don’t yet know Joel and Tess are sleeping with each other. The avalanche hasn’t happened. You’re just as important, just as included as they are.

“I could’ve helped,” you say, nodding toward the stove.

“I thought it would be best to let you sleep,” Tess answers, running a finger along the edge of the table. “You looked exhausted earlier.”

You shrug. “I can still pull my weight.” Are you imagining it or is Joel smirking? “If anyone is exhausted, it’s you,” you go on. “That trek through the woods today …”

Now it’s Tess’s turn to shrug. “I’m used to much worse.”

“Let’s eat,” Joel decides and gets up. You watch him at the stove, stare at the broad shoulders hidden beneath a denim shirt. You’d give almost anything for a glimpse into his thoughts.

“Can I have some whiskey?” you ask when Joel puts down a plate in front of you.

Tess raises her eyebrows at him when he says, “Sure,” but doesn’t say anything. You weren’t supposed to know about the whiskey, were you? And yet Joel decided to share it with you.

“Thanks,” you say when you get a small glass full of golden liquid. “How about you, Tess? Would you like some?”

The corner of her mouth twitches like she’s trying not to smirk or bare her teeth at you. “Not tonight, thank you.”

You down the whole glass with one big gulp, then wait for Joel to join you at the table while a familiar warmth is spreading from your stomach to your limbs. You’d ask for another glass but that would be pushing it. The three of you eat silently, the only sounds the scraping of the spoons against the bowls. You keep your eyes fixed to your plate, counting down the pieces of meat and potatoes. Only five more to go. What will happen once you’re done? You should go back to your room. But there is something you need to know.

“Joel, can I ask you something?” You drop your spoon into your empty bowl loudly to make sure they’re both paying attention to you. Once Joel nods, you continue. “Once the snow melts and spring comes, do you also want me to leave?”

The way Tess’s cheeks turn red fills you with grim satisfaction. “It’s not a question of want -,” she starts, but you interrupt her.

“I asked Joel.”

Joel glances at Tess, then back at you. “Those are the rules,” he answers.

“Yeah, but whose rules?” you press. “You keep telling me you work for these people … I have no idea if you’re making it up or not. Maybe there is no group, maybe it’s just Tess who wants me to leave, and you’re playing along.”

Tess laughs. “You have no idea –”

“I’m talking to Joel, not you,” you interrupt her again.

“Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what you’re talking about.” The tone in her voice makes the hairs on your arms stand up with a charge of anger that hits you out of nowhere. “We took you in, we let you stay, but that doesn’t mean you get to question how we run things around here.”

“Careful,” Joel says, but you’re not sure if he means you or her.

“No, maybe it’s my fault,” Tess goes on. “I didn’t think you’d need to know the details, but you clearly do, because you’re convinced it’s me who decides things around here. That isn’t true. And the sooner you get over your resentment for me, the better.”

You hate that she can read you so well, how she sees right through you. “Oh, don’t pretend you’re only following orders.”

“I’m not,” Tess replies, her voice calm and even. “I’m breaking rules by letting you stay here, rules that could get us punished if they ever found out you were here. And I’m not talking about a slap on the wrist, I’m talking about the fucking death penalty. I’m not sending you away because I can’t wait to see the back of you, I’m sending you away because the alternative is death.”

You don’t want to believe her. “Then why can’t I just join you?”

“The penalty isn’t for staying here,” Joel says quietly. “It’s for bringing you here.”

You snort. “Then why didn’t you leave me out there to die?”

Joel glances at Tess, but Tess is already answering you. “Is that really what you would have wanted us to do?”

“If it means saving yourself, then yes.” Your chest tightens as soon as you’ve said it. It’s what you would have done, not them. They risked everything, even death, to help a stranger whereas you couldn’t even be bothered to help a friend.

You expect Tess to use that against you, but she doesn’t. “We’ve done a lot for you, more than anyone else would have done. I think it’s not asking too much of you to respect the rules.”

“The same rules that keep changing every day?” you challenge.

“Our rules,” Joel interjects. His deep voice, a low rumble, makes you pause. “If we say you leave when spring comes, then you leave. No questions asked.”

“Can’t I stay with you? You can just say you met me in the woods on the way to wherever it is you’re going next.”

Joel and Tess exchange a glance that’s impossible for you to read. Is it pity? Shame? Regret? But they don’t give you an answer.

“Or is it because you don’t want me to come with you?” you go on, weighing each word carefully even though the whiskey is rushing through your veins, edging you on. “Is it because I’m a threat to that little thing going on between the two of you? Are you scared I’m going to take him away from you, Tess?”

Joel freezes. And when Tess jumps out of her chair, you do too, so quickly it falls over and hits the floor with a loud bang. You want to stand your ground, show Tess you’re not scared of her, that you mean the things you’re saying, but she’s coming toward you, her eyes dark with rage, and you can’t help but take a few steps backwards, even if it means you’ve lost this standoff before it even properly began.

The thing that hurts the most is that you can see it now, you can see why Joel would choose to follow this woman to the ends of the earth. The way she carries herself – shoulders back, chin held high – the way she doesn’t let her emotions get the better of her but is carefully calculating her next steps, the way she slightly raises her right hand to signal Joel to stand back, is making your knees grow weak. You’re scared of her, she could tear you apart without breaking a sweat, but that tight knot that’s been curled up in your stomach all day is beginning to sink lower as your blood heats up.

“You don’t know anything about me and Joel.” Tess takes two steps toward you, you take two steps back. “And you’re not that special.”

You want Joel to say something, tell Tess she’s wrong, tell her that you’re just as important to him as she is. He doesn’t, of course. He just looks at you from where he’s still sitting at the dinner table, like this doesn’t concern him. Then he looks back at Tess and crosses his arms over his chest. Tess notices how your gaze wanders over her shoulder, how you look hopeful and then lost, how you slowly have to face that you’re fighting a losing battle. When she steps closer again, you stand your ground.

“Do you want him to fuck you, is that it?” she asks, her voice so quiet it’s hardly louder than a whisper. She’s mocking you, taunting you.

Joel is out of his chair now. “Tess,” he starts, but she raises her hand and he shuts up.

“Let her answer.”

The urge to look at him is almost unbearable, almost enough to break you. But you keep your eyes on her, on her slightly parted lips, her red cheeks, her dark eyes. And it makes you surrender.

“Yes,” you answer with a nod. “Yes, I want him to fuck me. But I also want you to.” You catch yourself by surprise with that admission, but as soon as the words have left your mouth you know it’s true. You’re not jealous of Tess because she got to Joel first, you’re jealous of them both because they have each other.

Tess laughs hollowly, like she doesn’t believe you. A minute ago, you wouldn’t have believed yourself either. You were acting like a fool, and even though you’re hurt by her rejection, you can’t really blame her for it. She licks her lips, uncertainty in her eyes as she scans your face for any deceit, for any sign you’re making fun of her. Or at least that’s what it looks like to you. The longer she stares, the more it dawns on her that she won’t find anything there. You’re telling the truth.

Behind her, Joel hasn’t moved. He stands next to the table, his hands balled into fists at his side, watching the both of you, like he’s unsure of what to do. Should he put a stop to this? Should he wait and see where this is going?

“Tess,” he repeats, less urgent than last time. She doesn’t interrupt him again, so he goes on. “Let’s give her at least that.”

It’s all the confirmation you need, all the evidence to put your mind at ease. He has been talking to Tess about you, he has been trying to argue your case, and … he’s not opposed to what you’re suggesting, which leaves you with a quickened heart.

“How do you know she’ll do as she’s told?” Tess asks, her eyes still on you.

“I’m sure she will,” Joel says, and then his gaze lands on you, laden with heat and lust.

You’re there and yet you aren’t. They talk about you like you can’t hear them, discuss what to do with you as if it doesn’t concern you, and it makes your head spin. But the way Joel looks at you and the way Tess’s gaze glides over your body makes you feel seen, wanted. It’s a dangerous mix, one that puts you in the spotlight, leaves you open and vulnerable without a backup plan, without any idea how this is going to go and no way out.

You bite your lip and lower your gaze.

Tess smirks, her momentary insecurity gone. She reaches past you, and opens the door to Joel’s bedroom, the same door that was closed to you the previous night. “Go on then.”

A strange feeling comes over you, a feeling of being trapped, of being at their mercy. You shouldn’t turn your back on them, you shouldn’t let them out of your sight. Joel, tall and dark in the middle of the kitchen licks his lips; Tess nods at you, a challenge in her gaze. She still doesn’t believe you, doesn’t think this is what you truly want. Adrenaline rushes through your bloodstream, makes your heart pound and your hands grow cold. You can’t wait to prove her wrong.

You walk backwards into the dark room, keeping your eyes on them. You’re not entirely sure how you got to this moment, what switch was flipped, what happened to put you at their mercy like this, but you’re convinced this is the natural conclusion to weeks of uncertainties and conflicting feelings, of wanting to run and stay put at the same time. You can’t have Joel without Tess, and you can’t have Tess without Joel, and from the way your body reacts to that realization, you know you don’t want to have it any other way. All the tension that’s been building over weeks and weeks is slowly fading away.

Joel and Tess follow you, leaving the door to the kitchen open. A small strip of fluorescent light is illuminating the bedroom, too weak for you to make out many details, but you don’t need to. The only thing that matters right now are the two people in front of you, the way they keep pushing you further into the dark without touching you. You’re not sure what happens next, if you’re supposed to do something or if they want you to follow their lead. And a very tiny but persistent part of you still isn’t sure if this is really happening or if they’re just toying with you.

But then your legs connect with the bed and you can’t go any further, so Tess catches up with you. She reaches for your wrist, grabs it hard, and twists until you’re forced to turn around, arm pinned to your back. Your breath comes in hot pants as you’re trying to evaluate the situation. The only problem you’re faced with is that your brain has stopped working at all and you’re unable to form a single thought trapped by her like this. She pulls you close so your back is pressing against her chest and she starts undoing your pants with nimble fingers.

“You’ll do as you’re told,” she whispers into your ear while she works. “If you don’t want to do something, you say stop, loud and clear. You’ll answer when spoken to. Is that understood?”

You try hard to make sense of her words but you’re overwhelmed. This is so different from what you’re used to – no one ever takes into consideration what you want. And right now, all you want is to be touched, that’s all you can think about. The only response you manage is a tight nod.

Tess only tightens her grip, making you gasp, and pushes a hand into your pants, palming you. “I’m going to have to hear you say it.”

Are you imagining it or is there a strain in her voice, a note of desperation?

You grab her wrist to hold her in place and roll your hips, her fingers brushing against your clothed clit. If she wasn’t holding you up, you would crumble in her arms. “Yes, I understand,” you manage.

One of Tess’s fingers presses upwards through your underwear, and you’re sure she can feel how soaked you are, but instead of feeling embarrassed, you feel a strange sense of purpose and liberation. You want her to know. You want her to want you just as much as you want her.

“Good,” she says, letting go of you, and you stumble toward the bed.

It takes you a few seconds to catch your breath, to make sense of your whereabouts, of the desperate longing with which your body reacts to the loss. Your senses are heightened – you smell the stew you had for dinner, the stale air of the closed-off room, taste the cold on your tongue, feel the coarse material of your heavy winter pants scratch your legs. Behind you, you hear their voices, whispering intently, negotiating something you don’t need to be a part of. You lower your pants with trembling hands, step out of them while almost falling over, and then you turn around to face them, trying to keep your self-consciousness at bay, pretending you’re much bolder than you actually feel. You might not be involved in the deal they’re making, but you’re still its subject, and the least they can do is acknowledge you.

They’re standing closely together. Joel is facing you fully, Tess is partly turned toward him. Their faces are cast in shadow, almost unreadable, but they’re looking at you, there’s no doubt about that. You cross your arms over your chest in defiance, trying to copy some of Tess’s strength you saw earlier. They might not involve you in the negotiations, but nothing happens without you agreeing to it, and you don’t want them to forget that. Tess made sure you understood the rules and you won’t hesitate to use them to your advantage if you have to. You can’t tell if you returning their stares has any effect on them, but after a while they seem to be coming to some kind of understanding. They don’t say anything to you, they even stop talking to each other, but you’re the focus of attention again, at least the focus of Joel’s.

With just a few steps he’s in front of you, imposing, blocking your view of Tess and the light from the kitchen. It’s dark and intimate, the way he demands your attention, the way he becomes your focus, and your throat is suddenly dry. To make sure you have no other choice but to look at him, he catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, holding your head in place. The sudden touch, soft yet determined, sends a jolt of pleasure through you that puts you even more on edge. And then he’s kissing you. It’s not romantic, nothing like the first kiss you shared with your fiancé, nothing like the first kisses that came afterwards. Joel isn’t gentle, he doesn’t give you time to get used to the feeling of his lips against yours, to his taste on your tongue. Instead, he takes and claims, making your knees weak and your core clench.

You kiss him back eagerly, pressing up against him, daring him to pull you close and make you his. You want more, more of his taste on your tongue, sharp and male, more of his body against yours, strong and so much more powerful, more of the way he bites your lip, your neck, with an urgency he can barely comprehend himself. Your hands find his belt buckle, but he slaps them away, then breaks off the kiss to pull your shirt over your head. He opens your bra next, quickly and without hesitation. You stand before him, almost naked, fully on display for him, while he is slightly out of breath but still finds his dignity intact.

His eyes roam your body, lingering on your naked chest for a while, scrutinizing your stomach, your thighs, and the flimsy excuse for underwear that leaves little to the imagination. Countless hours you spent wishing he would look at you like that and now that it’s coming true, you’re unsure of what to do with all of that attention, that calculation. You just know you want to rattle him like he’s rattling you.

“Like what you see?” you tease, your voice breathy from having been claimed by his kisses.

You get an honest answer, a hoarse, “Yes,” that makes your heart pick up speed. So much for rattling him.

With his big hand, Joel reaches up and cups one of your breasts. The sensation of his coarse skin against your much softer one makes you shudder, but you refuse to look away. Let him see what he does to you, let him know how much you’ve wanted this, ever since he killed that man in the woods for you. He massages your breast briefly, squeezes the nipple, rolls it between thumb and forefinger, catches your moan on his tongue. But before you can switch off your brain and surrender yourself fully to him, he grabs you and turns you around, just like Tess did earlier.

“On your knees.”

Joel says it through gritted teeth, like he’s barely able to hold back. You’re trembling so much with anticipation that climbing onto the bed is an almost impossible feat, one you should be proud of accomplishing in the end. Positioning yourself on all fours on the bed with Joel and Tess behind you leaves you in a vulnerable position, and the thrill of it makes you tremble even more. You lick your lips, chasing the taste Joel left in your mouth. From behind you comes the sound of him unbuckling his belt and your cunt clenches eagerly in anticipation when leather scrapes against metal. You grab the duvet under your hands hard, steadying yourself.

Nothing happens.

You wait for a few moments, but the room is quiet now. You don’t even dare to breathe, anticipating Joel’s next move. And then you hear it, the sound you heard the previous night – a deep, satisfied groan. Now that there is no door between you, it’s impossible for you to escape its pull.

You look over your shoulder to see Tess stroking him, twisting her fingers up and down his length. He is completely hard, visibly full and thick. His eyes are half closed and his head has fallen back somewhat, but Tess looks straight at you.

“Take off your underwear,” she orders.

You don’t immediately do as you’re told – you can’t. You’re transfixed by Joel’s dick, by how it dwarfs Tess’s hand in comparison, by how it twitches when she strokes across the glistening tip. He’s going to stretch you open, stretch you until it burns.

“Take off your underwear,” Tess repeats, her voice sharp with impatience.

Eager to follow her orders this time, scared she won’t let Joel fuck you if you don’t, you struggle briefly before returning to the same position, having discarded the last shred of clothing somewhere on the ground next to the bed. There is more movement behind you before Tess comes into view. Casually, she sits down on the edge of the bed so you’re facing her, so she’s facing Joel and you. She’s going to watch him fuck you. That realization is accompanied by a sudden rush of wetness between your legs.

Tess asks, “Is she ready?”

Suddenly, two of Joel’s fingers are between your legs, feeling for your arousal. Your eyes flutter shut and you moan deeply. “Yes,” he answers, his voice deep and husky, while he teases you, pushing the tip of his finger into you.

You let your head hang between your shoulders, already unable to catch your breath. If Tess reacts in any way, you have no way of knowing. Joel’s fingers leave you and are replaced by something much bigger, much more, something full and heavy pushing inside of you so slowly it feels like torture. You groan and whimper, moving so you’re resting on your lower arms and elbows instead of your hands while you still and try to accommodate him. The burn is definitely there, and it’s much more delicious than you had imagined. It’s not enough. You push back because you want more, but Joel immediately holds you in place by grabbing your hips, guiding himself into you with his other hand. When he’s fully sheathed, you’re stretched impossibly wide; it’s almost too much to handle and he hasn’t even started moving yet. He doesn’t give you a moment to adjust yourself, not even to catch your breath.

He pulls out almost all the way and pushes himself back into you hard. It’s enough to make your arms and legs tremble, and you bite your lip in an attempt to stifle a deep, desperate moan. It comes out as a sob anyway. With every thrust, the fabric of his jeans scrapes against the back of your thighs, a pleasant addition to the burn you already feel.

It doesn’t take long for Joel to pick up the pace. He does it with a rough grunt and you hear the sound of metal banging against metal when he does. He is still wearing his belt loosely around his hips, he’s still practically fully dressed. That image, even if it’s just a mental one for now, makes you crave more of him, more, more, more, and you push back again, meeting his thrusts. With a sharp slap, he places his other hand on your hip, holding you in place so he can fuck into you. You just have to take it.

“Please,” you want to whimper, but your voice is too weak. All you can do is hold onto the duvet.

“I want to see her face.”

You have almost forgotten that Tess is there, watching you getting fucked until you’re a desperate, whimpering mess. But Joel hasn’t forgotten. His fingers wrap around the hair at the back of your neck and he pulls roughly so your chin snaps up. It’s uncomfortable, the way he bends your back, the way your scalp screams for some relief, but it pushes you closer to the edge immediately. So does the look on Tess’s face.

She’s watching you, a hungry look in her eyes. Her mouth hangs slightly open and you can see her chest move as she takes deep, eager breaths. You’ve never been looked at like that. And she is looking at you, not Joel, you – straight into your eyes, watching pain and pleasure fight for dominance there. You’ve never had all that attention on you, and it awakens a desire deep within you that you hadn’t known was slumbering there. You want her to watch, to be unable to escape her gaze, be totally exposed to her.

And then you clench around Joel once, a second time, and before you know what’s happening, you’re coming. It catches you by surprise, makes your brain struggle to catch up with your body. Everything pulls taut and your mouth falls open in a silent scream. The flicker of triumph in Tess’s eyes is what finally makes you let go and you give in to pleasure, letting Joel fuck you through it. It’s violently intense, being stretched around him, clamping down, trying to hold him in place.

Until it’s all too much.

You reach back for him, tears stinging in your eyes, but he just lets go of your hair and grabs your wrist. With impossible strength he twists your arm onto your back and continues to fuck you with the same sharp, punishing pace as before, spurred on by your cunt fluttering desperately around him. All you can do is hold on, completely overstimulated. You let your head fall back down again, you let Joel take what he needs, and when he finally spills inside of you, you’re rewarded with a deep groan, and his hold on you tightening. It kindles another flame inside of you, that feeling of his hot pleasure dripping out of you when he pulls out. You need to feel it again, and soon. It doesn’t matter that his hands will leave bruises, that you’ll feel him between your legs for days. You’ve never known satisfaction like this.

Tess’s hand finds your cheek, soft and careful, and she coaxes you to lift your head. “Well done,” she says, and kisses you. “Lay down.”

You do as you’re told, only now realizing how stiff your arms and legs are, bathing in the afterglow of Tess’s praise. You also wouldn’t mind feeling this kind of satisfaction again.

For a short while, you allow yourself to rest, closing your eyes and sinking into the well-worn mattress. For the first time in weeks, all those confusing thoughts in your head are quiet and you can shut down. Curiosity quickly gets the better of you though, and when you open your eyes again, you find Tess standing next to Joel, running her fingers through his hair. She kisses him gently, almost carefully, and he closes his eyes and furrows his brow, getting lost in the moment. You can’t look away even though you probably should; this is their moment, not yours, but the intimacy of it has a pull that’s impossible to escape. It’s not just the intimacy between the two of them, it's also the fact that they know you’re here and are allowing you to become a part of this by letting you watch.

They’re still kissing when he starts to undress her, much slower than he undressed you, savoring every newly exposed bit of skin with gentle caresses. Your heart tightens at that sight, not because you’re jealous but because you understand. It’s not just about the quick release, the carnal act of it, it’s also about the intimacy, the giving, the ability to be vulnerable around each other. They’re offering you those same things.

Once Joel is done and Tess is completely naked, you’ve propped yourself up on your elbow, watching her with interest. She crawls into bed next to you, and from the smirk on her face you know it’s not because she wants to catch some rest. She lies down on your right side and takes your hand, placing it between her legs. She’s soaked. You can’t help it – your face heats up at that realization, at being caught off-guard by it. You hadn’t expected her to be affected by this at all, and proof of the opposite gives you a pleasant rush.

The same smirk is still on her face when she moves her hand between your legs. You whimper when she rolls your clit under her finger, still overstimulated, still too keyed up from earlier, but she kisses you gently and whispers, “Shhh, it’s okay,” against your lips. You try to relax, and it comes easy, giving yourself over to her gentle touch. She watches your reactions, making sure she gets it just right, and you’re content to let her explore, to let her discover how you want to be touched. Soon, you push your hips upward again, eager for more. Next to you, she moans and gasps softly as you continue to stroke her clit as best as you can while all the blood is rushing down from your brain. Still, the little sounds she makes are reward enough.

Then something shifts. You’re not sure what it is, whether it’s the hoarse moan that escapes you, whether it’s the way you make her shudder when you apply more pressure, whether it’s the way the mattress dips on Tess’s other side as Joel sits down on the bed. But her hand moves faster. She presses her fingers against you harder, and uses her free hand to grab your hair, tangling her fingers in the strands. You can’t move, completely at her mercy, and she uses that to her advantage to kiss you roughly, hungrily, all the gentleness replaced by carnal desire. You let her bite your lip, scrape her teeth along your neck, press into you hard, let her give you what she thinks you deserve.

When you come, it catches you by surprise. Your whole body tenses up before you erupt into desperate pants and moans, rolling your hips against her hand to chase as much friction as you can, pulsating so hard Tess can most likely feel it against her fingers. Instead of teasing you about it, she just growls, “Yeah, that’s it. Let go,” which makes you moan even louder. They both make it so easy to give yourself over to them, to trust them.

You’re still trembling when you open your eyes, you still twitch and pulse when you try to catch your breath. Swallowing hard, you try to calm yourself, but your head is spinning from one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had. A small part of you starts to feel embarrassed about how desperate you were, how much you let your guard down, and you find yourself unable to look at Tess, even when she continues to kiss your neck and shoulder, so you look at Joel instead.

He lies propped up on his elbow on Tess’s other side, watching you come undone under Tess’s skilled touch. His chest and neck are an angry red, almost a deep purple in the dim of the bedroom. He’s half-hard again, his cock hanging heavy between his legs. You clench one final time at the memory of him inside of you, and Tess finally removes her hand, falling back onto the mattress with a satisfied sigh.

Joel doesn’t let either one of you catch a break. He grabs the wrist of your hand that’s still between Tess’s legs and moves it lower, pushing two of your fingers into her. She clenches around you and groans, her eyes fluttering closed. The sound gets stuck in her throat when Joel presses his thumb against her clit and begins to move it in a lazy circle. You try to match the pace, pumping your fingers lazily in and out of her, glad for a chance to finally be the one who watches. You watch as Tess opens her eyes, watch as her gaze lands on Joel, watch as they get completely lost in the moment and in each other. They seem to be forgetting you’re there with them and you let them for a while before you decide to remind them.

You move lower and tentatively lick across Tess’s nipple before sucking it into your mouth. The small peak is hard against your tongue and you glow with pride and satisfaction when Tess arches her back and groans, digging her nails into your thigh. The sharp pain only spurs you on, eager to please, eager to make her forget herself like you forgot yourself when she was fucking you. You start to pump your fingers in and out of her faster, harder, and Joel, understanding, stops teasing her. Her eyes wide, her gaze still on Joel, she groans, “Joel, fuck. Please.”

The pull in the pit of your stomach at hearing her voice so raw and desperate makes you shift. Joel kisses her forehead to try to calm her, then raises his eyes and looks at you. “Fuck her.”

You do as you’re told, stifling a moan by teasing Tess’s nipple with your teeth, curling your fingers inside of her, putting all your strength into your thrusts. You’re rewarded with shallow breathing, and trembling limbs, and when she finally comes, she comes hard, holding your fingers inside of her with hard clenches. You’ve never felt anything like it, and the hunger for more is a sharp, burning sensation at the base of your spine. Will you ever be sated?

You collapse against her chest, your arm burning from the strain of keeping you propped up for so long, and Tess strokes your head with a trembling hand. Joel leans over her and kisses her cheek.

“You okay?” he asks softly, almost too quietly for you to hear.

She nods and swallows, the muscles in her neck twitching. Closing your eyes, you grant yourself a moment’s rest, listening to her slowing heartbeat, afraid that if you move, this moment might shatter into a million pieces.

After a while, Tess pulls on your arm and makes you roll over her, so you come to rest between her and Joel. She takes your hand into hers and places it at the base of Joel’s cock, now hard and heavy again. You blink a few times, still somewhat out of your body, floating around, not sure what is happening. All you can feel are Tess’s fingers wrapped around yours, and yours wrapped around him. But then she begins to guide you up and down his shaft. Slowly at first, making sure you’re able to take it all in, feel how hot he is, feel the little veins and soft skin, the way he twitches when she makes you tighten your grip. You only fully realize what is happening when he groans softly and screws his eyes closed. Then you know.

Tess shows you how to twist your hand on the upstroke to make him gasp, to make the sinews in his neck stand out, and then she lets go of you, putting you in charge. “He wanted this, you know,” she whispers into your ear, her voice low with pleasure. “He sometimes thinks about what your hand would feel like wrapped around his cock.”

You don’t care whether she’s making it up or not, her words make your core tighten, especially when he follows them with a groaned, “Tess,” that almost sounds like a warning. It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not, she lets you have the fantasy, and she lets you have the real thing too.

Then she adds, “I think he told me about it shortly after he heard you moan his name in the middle of the night.”

A sudden pang of embarrassment almost makes you let go, but Tess closes her fingers around yours again. “No, keep going.”

You feel the heat of Tess’s body at your back, the heat radiating off Joel’s chest, and you’re eager to comply. What does it matter now? They know how you feel about them and they don’t mind. After all, Joel came inside of you not even half an hour ago, and Tess came around your fingers, leaving little halfmoon marks in your thigh with her nails.

“I just didn’t think you’d like to be fucked by me, too,” Tess goes on, running her fingers along your thigh, teasing you, making you gasp and writhe.

“Faster,” Joel growls.

You don’t pick up the pace immediately – it’s not your call.

“Go on, it’s all right,” Tess grants. She kisses your neck when you pick up speed, two soft pecks right behind your ear. “Good girl.”

It’s meant for you, so quiet only you can hear it, and it makes you abandon all restraint. You sneak a hand between your legs and touch yourself. Tess lets you.

“Can I kiss him?” you ask, unable to keep your eyes off Joel’s brown ones that appear almost black now, clouded with desire.

“Joel?” Tess asks.

Joel nods, his eyes wandering to your lips, his tongue darting out to lick his own.  You roll over so you come to rest on your knees and lean forward, your fingers still circling your clit. He captures your lips, growls against them, pushes his tongue into your mouth hungrily. Behind you, Tess strokes the back of your thighs, teasing you, making you twitch and gasp and squeeze Joel’s cock until he growls. Without warning, Joel grips your hair and he comes, spilling all over your hand and his stomach in hot, white ropes. You come too, wet heat rushing down your thighs and onto Tess’s fingers.

Tess presses a kiss to your back and you hear her chuckle softly as she gets up to look for a clean piece of cloth. You fall down next to Joel, curled up on your side, watching him. He runs a finger through his cum, coats your lips with it – and then he leans forward to kiss you, to chase his own taste with his tongue.

When Tess comes back, Joel cleans you first and then himself before he makes you lie back down between them, facing Tess. The two of you kiss lazily, unhurried, while Joel strokes your back, running his fingers down your spine.

After a while, Tess kisses the top of your head, then tugs you in beneath her chin. “You’ll still have to leave when the snow thaws out.”

“When the snow thaws out,” you agree.

***

joel miller taglist: @commalins​​​ | @mandinlore​​​ | @mumma_moonchild | @n7cje​​ | @ronica-dl​​​ | @swimmjacket​​​

permanent taglist: @amneris21​​​ | @aurelacmoon | @din-jarhead​​​ | @harriedandharassed​​​ | @joel-tess​​​ | @littlemissthistle​​​ | @martellthemandalor​​​ | @nyfeeer | @nobodys-baby-now​​​ | @od-ends​​​ | @pedrorascal​​​ | @pedrostories​​

[nightwishesworld]

hello! do you think you could do a chapter with fem!reader whose afraid of thunderstorms and wakes up in the middle of the night because of it but doesn’t wanna wake alcina so she just stays awake but the storm goes on for like a week and this keeps happening until she notices and comforts you through it by like cuddles or talking you to sleep to distract you from it :)

Oh my god I hate the way this came out. My brain just could not process this for some reason. I also couldn't make it as long as a week, my apologies.

**************

One dark evening at Castle Dimitrescu a storm rolled in. Relatively speaking, it was quite harmless and most of the inhabitants of the castle were unbothered by the storm.

Except you.

Late into the evening, whilst most were asleep, the storm was at its strongest - the crackle of thunder rolling through the halls as flashes of lightning illuminated the darkest corners of the room. You were trying to sleep, honest, but just as you felt the drowsiness of rest come to take you - a loud crack of thunder would jolt you awake and paralyze you with fear.

You sat with your back against the headboard, your breathing rapid.

You pulled the covers up to your chest and hugged your pillow close to your chest. Resisting the urge to run and hide in the closet like you used to do as a kid was becoming more and more difficult.

Another flash, another boom.

You knew it wasn’t logical, but you couldn’t stop yourself from flinching or jumping as the sounds of the storm roared outside. It was just so loud and you could swear the castle was shaking with it.

You squeezed your eyes shut, white-knuckling the pillow held tight against your chest and humming a song to yourself in order to distract your brain.

The sound of constant rain was suddenly accompanied by heavy hail falling, and that’s when the thoughts started charging at you full force.

What if the lightning strikes the castle? What if the castle collapsed? Did it have the right infrastructure? What if-

“Stop it, God. Stop it!” You begged your brain but to no avail. Your mind kept generously providing you with possibilities and images you did not ask for.

Another loud boom and this time you couldn’t help the cry let out before clapping a hand over your mouth and diving under the blankets.

When you didn’t hear anything for a few minutes you felt it safe enough to come out of hiding. Thankfully the vampire slumbering next to you wasn’t disturbed by your pathetic cries and whimpers. She had a rough day dealing with a very pissed off Mother Miranda and needed rest and relaxation as much as she could possibly get.

You forced yourself to lay still on your back and focus all your energy on controlling your breathing. That was the key to saving yourself a panic attack. You don’t know how long you were staring up at the ceiling, but dawn eventually came and your partner stirred from her sleep.

She would have been happy to see you if not for the redness in your eyes and puffiness surrounding them, obvious signs of lack of sleep.

“Are you alright, draga mea?” She wrapped her arms around your midsection and rested her head on your shoulder, kissing your cheek.

You didn’t answer, even though you knew Alcina wouldn’t just drop the question. She was sweet and caring like that, which is probably why you never had the heart to tell her how much of a coward you actually are.

“You didn’t sleep very well, did you?”

“Nightmares,” you rasped, trying to focus on Alcina more than the low rumbling outside. “I’ll be fine after a cup of coffee.”

She looked as though she didn’t accept that answer but quickly hid any doubts behind a warm smile. “If you’re sure.”

It felt wrong lying to her. You had never felt the need to hide anything from Alcina before, but this was just embarrassing. She’d probably laugh at you told her you were still afraid of thunderstorms.

The day progressed with relative normalcy despite the occasional sounds of rumbling. Alcina busied herself dealing with the mountain of paperwork on her desk for Mother Miranda and the girls were running amuck in the basement. Depending on which room you were in you could hear their laughter below you. Their mischief down there has always been a mystery to you, even now after living in the castle a couple of years. You knew what they were doing, but couldn't fathom the idea of enjoying it so much. You did find it rather disturbing that their torturing frightened you less than a stupid thunderstorm.

You huddled in the back section of the library behind the bookshelves so you couldn’t see the lightning out the windows. The loud rumbling still had you on edge, but a good book is always a welcome distraction. It worked so well, that you didn't hear Daniela approaching. You practically jumped three feet in the air when she was stood in front of you.

“What’s wrong with you?” Daniela asked, her voice was stern, but it also had a concerning tone to it. She had dropped her bag, keeping the knife at her side. Your breathing was heavier than usual as you tried to think of what to say. It was more than embarrassing to tell Daniela the truth. You knew for a fact she out of everyone in the castle would laugh at you. "You scared me,"

She rolled her eyes. "No, Dummy, I mean what's really wrong?"

You shrug and turn the page of your book. “Nothing.”

Another boom. You couldn’t fight off flinched.

“Oh, I think I get it. You’re afraid of-”

“Don’t tell anyone.” You clenched your fists, shutting your eyes tightly. Daniela wanted to laugh, but she didn’t. You watched as she cautiously sat back down. The redhead sat in front of you, the rain somehow sounding even louder than it had before. You looked over at Daniela, feeling the embarrassment creep upon you.

Daniela started at you with a rather confused expression, resting her arms on her knees. “Out of everything we’ve been through,” she began, “everything you’ve seen us do. Everything that goes on in this castle just below your feet,” she paused. “And you’re scared of thunder?”

You sat silently and twiddled your thumbs.

“Why?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you whisper. “It’s not important. You’re only going to run off and tell everyone.”

Daniela rolled her eyes and picked up her bag, headed once again for the basement. “Whatever, y/n, have it your way.”

You spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening shuffling around the library hiding from the white flashes. It was only when Daniela came to fetch you for dinner that you left. Luckily you were eating in the kitchen instead of the larger Dining Hall. The kitchen is much more manageable; marginally fewer windows to see the lightning. The meal carried on as it normally would; the girls boasted about their successes in the basement, Alcina discusses all the work she got done today and complains about the work she put off for tomorrow. It was almost enough to take your mind off the chaos happening just outside the windows. Almost.

The storm carried on just as confidently throughout the evening and into the night. It showed no signs of relenting, which in turn meant another sleepless night.

You wasted no time stripping your clothes and crawling into bed, back to the open windows. Alcina didn’t think much of it, simply chalking it up to being exhausted from the previous night’s lack of sleep. She wasn’t completely wrong, you did feel like you were ready to sleep for the next 24 hours. But you knew the storm wouldn’t allow you that luxury.

Pressure against your back and an arm wrapping around your midsection snapped you out of your thoughts.

“I hope you sleep tonight, my love.”

“Me too.”

An hour later and you were still wide awake listening to the rain being pelted against the windows. An anxious voice whispered impossible scenarios of the rain breaking through the windows and lightning striking you down in the safety of your bed. You tried your hardest to not toss and turn as to not disturb the woman next to you. She's not asleep yet, you can tell by the lack of snoring, but her breathing is starting to even out. You were curled up on your side, back to Alcina. She wrapped you in her arms, her chest against your back and arm across your waist. "Dove..." she whispered in your ear. "Y/n... "

"I'm sleeping, Al." You murmured snuggling further into the vampire’s arms, your eyes still closed.

"No, you're not." She stroked your side absently. “Are you sure you’re ok? You aren’t falling ill are you?”

You sigh. “No, I’m not getting sick. My body is just too exhausted to relax.”

Alcina hummed, burrowing her face in the crook of your neck. “I’ll stay up with you for a while.”

“You will not. Go to sleep Al, I’ll be fine. You had a long day yourself, one of us should be able to sleep."

"Why don't we go sit in the Drawing Room or the Library? I'll hold you in my lap and read to you." God no. Way too many windows. "Goodnight, Alcina." You feel her sigh against your skin, pushing a few stray hairs around. "Can I do anything?" "Stop worrying, it's just insomnia." "I'll stay up with you then. You shouldn't be up all by yourself staring at the ceiling." "I'm not alone, Love, you're right here with me. Asleep or not I'm still in your arms, and that helps a lot." You feel her smile against your neck and pull you closer against her front. "wake me if you need anything."

You actually slept fairly well; only waking up a few times to have Alcina soothe you back to sleep. Being tucked away in her embrace did a world of help, but you still woke up hours before Alcina did. Her eyes fluttered open and focus on your groggy face. She frowns.

"Did you sleep at all?"

You smile and kiss her lips. "Yes, I actually slept a lot better last night than before."

"Good," she pulls you back to kiss you again.

*******************************************************************************************

Later in the afternoon Bela and Cassandra invited (dragged you really) into the Drawing Room to play a game of cards.

Everything was going really well. You were laughing and playing with the girls like everything was as it should be in Castle Dimitrescu.

You were made astutely aware of the situation outside again when a loud crack of thunder shook the castle. There was another flash and clap of thunder, this time loud enough to make Cassandra flinch.

You abruptly shot up from the table. “Sorry. I need a minute.” You rushed down the hall into one of the guest rooms. Cassandra and Bela shared a confused glance and watched as you hurried away. They’d never seen you so flighty and nervous before. Neither could tell what was wrong.

They laid on the carpet and silently counted to sixty before following you to down the corridor.

“Y/n?” Bela softly knocked on the door. “It’s been a minute.”

There was no response. More thunder. Bela frowned. “We’re coming in, okay?”

She opened the door a crack and poked her head inside. You were nowhere to be seen. “Y/n?” Cassandra called, stepping further inside and glancing around the room. The sisters checked under the bed, then under the covers, even under the shade of the bedside lamp. Then Bela peered out of the rain-soaked window for good measure. Where else could you be?

Just as Cassandra decided she was stumped, she heard a rustling from behind her and a muffled, “I’m in here.” She turned around in confusion because the only place they hadn’t checked in that direction was…

They crept over to the closet and carefully slid open the door. The girls smiled when they found you sitting on the ground, curled up with your head between your knees. “Playing hide and seek now, are we?” Bela said. “Next round I call being the— um, y/n?”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, staying right where you were. “Sorry.”

“S-Sorry for what…?” Cassandra crouched down beside you. The closet almost had enough space for the three of you to fit.

“Y/n, please. Something’s obviously bothering you, can’t you tell us?”

All three of you startled as another flash of lightning cut into the room, followed by another growl of thunder. You tightened your grip around your legs. Bela’s jaw dropped.

“It’s the storm,” she said, half a question, half a statement. “You’re scared of thunder?”

“It’s childish.”

“Oh, y/n…”

“I’m weak. Something as dumb and simple as loud noises shouldn’t make me so—”

“Y/n. Look at me.” Cassandra’s gently stern tone convinced you to move your head so your chin rested on your knees. You side-eyed the girls, trying to imitate your usual stoicism. It was difficult with red-rimmed eyes.

“A phobia doesn’t make you childish, or weak— do you know how many people have a fear of thunder, y/n? A lot of humans.”

“A lot of Uncle Heisenberg’s lycans as well,” Bela chimed in.

“And are you going to go around insulting them? No, Y/n, because that’s not nice. So don’t insult yourself for the same thing.” Cassandra waved around her index finger as she spoke. Your eyes widened and followed the movement. Both girls laughed.

“Is that what’s been giving you nightmares?”

You shake your head. “I just haven’t been sleeping; too tense.”

Cassandra giggled. “Just ask mother for extra cuddles, not like she’ll say no.”

“Or a more intimate distraction,” Bela winked.

Both sisters giggle at the blush creeping on your cheeks.

“Can we sit here with you?” Bela asked, already taking the vacant spot on your right.

You shrugged— as much as you could in this balled-up position. “You don’t have to.”

“It’s ok y/n, we don’t mind.”

They sat on either side of you, Bela holding your hand, enjoying the comfortable silence that cast over you.

*******************************************************************************************

A loud crack of thunder jolted Alcina awake. Cursing to herself she eyed the clock across the room–2:06 am. Raking a hand down her face, she jolted again when another crack of thunder echoed through the castle. It wasn’t a minute later that an insistent downpour of rain started pelting the roof and windows followed by an angry howling of the wind. You stirred next to her in the bed. You were mumbling in what sounded like a mix of Romanian and English. Alcina swallowed thickly because she knew what that meant; another night terror. She laid back down and curled herself against you, cocooning herself against your back. Alcina placed a few stray kisses on your shoulders and the nape of your neck, smoothing her hands along your hipbone in the process. You calmed after a few minutes, your mumbling returning to the steadying breaths of deep sleep. Alcina sighed in relief and closed her eyes in hopes that she could drift back to sleep.

KRAK-OOOOOM!

Alcina sat up on the bed and saw you still appeared to be sleeping, though you looked somewhat agitated. She reached over and attempted to run her fingers through your hair but all that succeeded in doing was causing you to jolt awake.

You woke up with a strangled yell and starting crawling out from underneath the sheets. You sat with your back against the headboard, your breathing and heart rate rapid. Alcina crawled over and realized you were having a panic attack. “Y/n, can you hear me?” You nodded, your eyes squeezed shut as tears started leaking from the corners. You clamped a hand over your mouth, and Alcina realized you were trying to silence your breathing. “Honey no, don’t do that, just focus on me,” she pulled your hand away from your mouth slowly. You shook your head and tried to take your hand back. “No no no... I can’t- I-I-I can’t wake Al-Alcina,” you gasped. “It’s alright, Dove, just follow my breathing.” Alcina took exaggerated breaths to demonstrate. You started calming down slightly. “That’s it, everything is alright, just keep breathing.” You seemed to calm down more with the breathing exercises. “I’m going to get you a glass of water“ Alcina started to say, but was cut off by you grabbing her arm. “No! Don’t-don’t lea- don’t leave, please, don’t- don’t” you closed her eyes, her breath quickening again. “Sweetheart, breathe with me. In, out. In, out.” Alcina took your hand and put it on her chest. “Breathe with me. In, out. In, out.” Your breathing returned to normal. After sitting in silence for a bit, Alcina turned to her.

“Another night terror?” She asked. You looked away for a minute, ashamed of yourself.

“No.”

God, you probably woke her up, good job.

Alcina couldn’t keep an amused smile from forming. “Can my little dove not sleep because of the thunderstorm?”

As if on cue, a blinding bolt of lightning crackled down from the sky. The following rumble of thunder seemed to shake the castle. You let out a whimper and shielded yourself from the sky. “How could I possibly sleep when it sounds like the sky is falling?!”

Alcina hums and pulls you close against her. “There’s nothing wrong with a healthy fear, Dove. It brings out the human in you.”

“UGH! Just-!”

KRAK-OOOOOM!

Another shriek, barely muffled by Alcina’s shoulder, had you violently trembling. You were barely holding yourself together.

Wracked with terror, eyes shut tightly, you found yourself unable to prevent the reflexive compulsion to cling to something nearby.

Which, in this case, was Alcina, who was left staring in shocked silence at the violently trembling form with arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. She immediately wrapped her arms around you again and began rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Calm down. You’re fine,” She spoke softly, ignoring the buzz under her skin as she soaked in the unwitting embrace like a dry sponge in water. Soothingly, she rubbed up to your shoulder blades. “There we are, my love,” Alcina chuckled. “I’ve got you. Listen to my voice,” She rumbled, speaking soft but firm as the thunder forced smaller tremors through the floor. “You’re going to relax. I’m going to help you. Just lay here with me and close your eyes. I’ll hold you all night if you want me to.”

Gradually, the sound faded and petered off back into the loud patter of rain against the windows but Alcina held you tightly still. She could feel the flutter of your heartbeat against her own, almost impressed that you hadn’t passed out from fear alone.

“Why didn’t you say anything? The storm’s been going on for days now you must have been petrified.”

“I didn’t want you to know,” you mumbled into her neck. “It’s a pathetic fear I’ve had since I was a kid. I don’t want you to think less of me.”

“You think something as trivial as a phobia would make me think less of you?” She pulled you even tighter against her. You melted into her embrace. “Clearly I haven’t been a very good partner to you.”

“No Al, it’s not like that. Gods, you’re an amazing partner. It’s just my stupid insecurities. You’re all so fearless and brave. You’re not afraid of anything, and then there’s me; tiny, inferior, afraid of a little thunderstorm.”

She sighed and continued rubbing circles on your back. “I’m not fearless.”

“Yeah right,” you scoff. “What could the great and powerful Alcina Dimitrescu possibly be afraid of?”

“Death.”

You wriggled out of her arms just enough to turn and face her. “What? But, you’re immortal. Death isn’t really something you have to worry about.”

She gave a small smile and brought a hand to cup your face. “I never said my death, sweet one.”

Oh...OH

“The girls are clever, they can get themselves out of most situations unscathed, but still, we can be slain. And there have been some pretty close calls in the past. And you,” she rubbed gentle circles on your cheek. “Your death is inevitable. It gnaws at the back of my mind every time I look at you. Every time morning I have to untangle myself from your embrace I remember that one day I’ll wake up alone and wish I cuddled with you for just a bit longer."

"Al, I didn't-"

"I can't always be there to protect you, including the girls. If I could take the brunt of all conflict for you I would gladly do so, but that's unfortunately not how life works. I'm just left worrying until I know for sure you're all safe."

She hummed into your neck and kissed your pulse point. "How selfish of me, I'm supposed to be comforting you, not the other way around. If I paid more attention I would have known, I’m sorry, my love.”

“Don’t apologize, just hold me.”

Alcina kissed the top of your head. “With pleasure.”

Soon enough you did fall asleep again, your arms still clinging tight around the vampire’s upper midsection. Alcina found a comfortable enough position and allowed herself to drift away as well.

[blueprint-han]

soothing — lee felix.

pairing — felix x (gn) reader

genre — fluff.

word count — 1.9 K

warnings — the reader has hair long enough to braid, other than that, 

note — husband felix brain go bzz bzz <3

“Whoa—” Felix immediately lifts his coffee cup into his hands when you plop down headfirst on the sofa right next to him, groaning in relief as the soft couch fabric surrounds and engulfs you. You throw your bag onto the floor, squirming your way out of your coat before doing the same with it. Felix giggles, the motions you’re adopting to try and not move from the couch but still get yourself a bit more free looking way too funny to the other person.

Your hair is out of it’s ponytail that Felix had surely seen you leave in, and completely disheveled, as though to prove how tired you truly are. Placing his coffee cup on the center table, he scoots closer to your sprawled out figure on the couch, biting his lip to hold back his laugh, but failing to do so.

“Hello to you too, welcome back!” He says all happy and smiley, which you can clearly hear in his tone. His voice instantly brings you some calm, and you sigh, pulling yourself out of your comfortable position to give Felix what seemed like the most adorable expression your husband had ever seen. Your shoulders are slouched yet they seem stiff, as though you’ve been housing tension in them all day. There’s a pout on your face, directed towards Felix for indirectly making fun of your actions, but he knows it’s not serious.

“Hey, I’ve had a terrible day today. Cut me some slack.”

“I can see that,” Felix points out, reaching out to push away the hair that falls over your face and restricts your eyesight. Your eyes immediately flutter shut, and you lean into his touch, almost landing headfirst in front of Felix’s lap if he hadn’t started giggling again in that awfully serotonin-inducing tone and propped his hand against your forehead.

“There, there. Why don’t you go to our room and sleep for a while, hm? We’ll order takeout today, if that makes you feel better.”

Mm, yes. Pizza. Comfort Food.

“That sounds good…” You smile dizzily, still resting the weight of your head against Felix’s hand. Then, you open your eyes, meeting his soft ones and let yourself admire the beauty of your husband for two seconds. He’s been growing his hair long nowadays, and that long hair is tied into a neat ponytail behind him. His smile is as bright as ever. It’s the kind of smile that makes you want to cry and tear up, but also makes your heart flutter whenever it’s directed at you, or literally anything.

His eyes twinkle when they meet yours, and you let your eyes trail over the freckles littering his skin and nose. He’d still be in his makeup most of the times when you’d get home, so this sight is definitely an invited one. You had to admit — to you, there was nothing more beautiful than Felix’s beauty without any makeup, or filter, or editing. He was best when he was himself, his smiley, cute, adorable self. The only one who could make you feel calm without even doing anything, the only person who could make everything seem better with just the smallest gesture.

The only person who made your heart flutter the way it did right now.

You breath in before leaning closer to him, giving him an expression he knew very well. Even after two years of marriage, he could still never not melt whenever you gave him puppy eyes, or whenever you tried to act cute for him to give you something.

“Okay, I know that look-” Felix shakes his head and laughs heartily, leaning toward you too and squishing your cheeks. 

“Pleaseeeeee~” You drag, scrunching up your face in the way you knew your husband would give in to your advances. “I’m tired and plus you petting my hair whenever I fall asleep on your lap is very soothing.”

“Okay, but only on one condition — you go change and freshen up before that.” Felix points to your formal clothing, and you huff in disapproval. “Not going to lie, you smell- kinda.” He makes that cute scrunchy face that you can’t help but malfunction over, even though he’d just teased you.

“Alright, fine.” You roll your eyes playfully, getting off the couch and slouching your way to your shared room, letting yourself change and wash your face. It does make you feel a lot less tense and relieved, but all in all, more excited to fall asleep on your husband’s lap. His touch is always gentle, like a violin bow sliding off it’s strings to produce gentle, calming music.

When you come back, Felix has already cleaned up the couch, the blanket that was sprawled on it now neatly spread for you to tuck yourself into. Obviously, this wasn’t your first time falling asleep with Felix on the couch — it happened more often than one would think it would, to the point where Felix insisted there always be a pillow and a blanket on the couch. The pillow is placed against his lap, and he’s already finished his coffee up and scrolling through his phone.

When he feels your head softly land against his lap, he smiles to himself, placing his phone away and immediately tangling his fingers into your hair as you pull the blanket on top of you, tucking it under your chin and snuggling yourself all warm and cozy against him.

“There, doesn’t that feel a lot better than slithering around in your work clothes?” Felix asks, placing another hand on your thigh to rub small circles into it. 

“Yeah, it really does.”

When Felix starts running his hands through your hair and drawing soothing patterns on it, your whole body immediately feels like it’s melting into the couch. The warmth from the blanket combined with the magic his hands possessed was enough to push you into a deep slumber, until a question pops up in your brain, and halts your train to slumberland.

“When was the last time you braided my hair?” you ask, any signs of your sleep vanished all of a sudden.

“Huh- that’s sudden.”

“Just something that I remembered.”

“Hmm, I guess it was in the early time of our marriage? I don’t remember doing your hair after that, to be honest.”

“Ooh!” You perk up, turning to meet Felix’s gaze. “Why don’t you do it now? I’ll get the comb! One second-” 

“Wait, wait, wait.” Felix pushes you back onto his lap, smiling brightly at your eagerness. “What happened to hey I’ve had a terrible day and I'm tired?”

“Like I said, your hands in my hair is always soothing, plus, my hair's a mess and braiding it would be better.” You push his hand away, running over to your room to fetch the comb before scurrying back to him. You sit down at the couch in front of Felix, pushing the comb into his hand and facing forward.

Felix smiles fondly at you, his heart pounding at your excitement for something so small. He’s lucky to have such a wife, really. A person who knows him truly, a person who loves him for who he truly is on the inside, and a person who can always find happiness with him in the smallest things.

As for you? You’ve lucky to have such a husband. Such a bright, outgoing, empathetic person. You’ve been really blessed to have someone as pure hearted, kind and lovely as him. You’ve been blessed to be the woman he finds his happiness with.

“Okay…” He runs the comb through your hair, and owing to its effect, instantly, your eyes flutter close when he places his hand on top of your head. There was something so exquisite about his touch, it was so soothing. It was like a soft feather running against your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake but always led you to feel relaxed. 

Once Felix has smoothed down your hair, he begins braiding it, and you're already half asleep at this point. It’s like a warm cocoon of love and pure adoration for each other is surrounding the both of you, lulling you into the blissful intimacy of just being with each other and sharing this comfortable silence.

You can hear Felix’s laugh and it pulls you out of your trance. You then realise that you’re almost close to falling asleep on Felix’s knee — clearly, you were still sleepy regardless of your excitement.

“Y/N, you’re leaning to the side.”

“Didn’t I say your hands were soothing?”

Felix blushes. He still can’t help but feel shy of your reaction to his touch even after so long, especially when you’re so direct and open about it. He ignores the heat rising up to his cheeks, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your hair and forehead before combing through it again and gathering your hair into a ponytail.

“Okay, just stay straight until the first two plaits, and then you can sleep.”

“Mmmm, I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep myself up for so long though. This feels nice…”

“Y/N, come on!” Felix slaps your shoulder slightly, feeling himself blush even more. Of course, you can’t see him because you’re facing forward, but you can sense the overly chirpy, bright tone he’s speaking in. You’d be the first to know about your husband that he gets very shy when he’s praised for anything.

“Okay, okay fine. But do it quickly.”

Felix hums in reply before running his hands through your hair one more time, gently crossing the sections of hair over each other over and over again. The room is filled with a soft, quiet comfortable silence — one that Felix loves a lot. He wants nothing more than such soft and pretty moments, such lovin moments with his wife.

As he braids, your body leans more and more to his knee, and by the time he’s done, your cheek is pressed cutely against his thigh, your eyes closed shut in slumber. He quickly ties the end with a hair tie, and silently stares at your calm figure snoozing on his knee.

“So cute…” He thinks, not being able to hold back his smile as he lets himself admire your sleeping figure for a quick moment, before mischievously poking your cheek.

You whine at the intrusion, squirming around and you’re almost about to fall asleep again if it isn’t for your husband being a little shit, poking at your cheek again.

“What is it?” You whine louder this time.

“You’re gonna sprain your neck.” Felix says as a matter-of-fact.

“Ugh, okay fine… you’re gonna have to give me more of your ramen for disturbing me.” You pout, lifting yourself up before crawling into the blankets and lying down on Felix’s lap again.

“Hey! Who’s the one who ignored their sleep and got their poor husband to braid their hair?”

“You say that like you weren’t just blushing two minutes ago, sunshine.”

Felix has no words for that, and ends up stuttering. You giggle in victory, tucking yourself into the blanket once again before fluttering your eyes close. You bask in the calmness of the surroundings, letting yourself revel in the feeling of warmth that seeps through you.

Except, one thing’s missing.

“Hey!” You call, snapping your husband out of his admiring gaze. He doesn’t know when he got so engrossed into admiring your beauty, but nonetheless, he can’t stop himself from feeling warm internally when you pout once again. 

“Your hands.” You rub your head against where it’s rested against his thigh, a frown on your face due to the lack of, to quote you, soothingness.

So cute, Felix thinks again in awe, tangling his fingers into your hair before finally, finally watching you drift off to sleep peacefully.

networks: @inkidz​ @kpopscape​ @kdiarynet​ @fluffyskzclub​ @destinyverse​ @skzwritersclub​ @kwritersworld​ @lovesick-net​

taglist: @cafejjunie​ @sleepylixie​ ​ @coco-riki​ ​ @stayndays​ ​ @yutassecretheaven​ ​ @lost-midnight-flower​ ​ @p2q3r4​ @anskiie​ ​ @happiestgirlontheeastcoast @cuddlychrisbang @orphic-chan​

[girlgrouptrash101]

Chaeyoung (Fromis_9) as Your Girlfriend

Request: “PLEASE DO A FROMIS 9 CHAEYOUNG AS YOUR GIRLFRIEND THANK YOU SO MUCH ILYSM”

“Hullooo can I request Fromis9 Chaeyoung as your gf pleasee”

“bro i love your work! not sure if you’re taking requests right now but can you do chaeyoung of fromis_9 as your gf?”

“PLEASE!!! Can you do a GF Chaeyoung/Saerom/Nakyung (Fromis_9)???”

A/N: i hope i did our lovely chaeyoung justice !! 

- C

Chaeyoung Vs confronting her feelings instead of just teasing you constantly until you got the hint and made the first move

once she gets over most of her nerves her teasing tends to take on more of a flirty tone

leading to you turning into absolute mush and chaeyoung getting so cocky 😋

gets a lot more open with affection once you officially start dating,,, but mostly in private because she will NOT be accused of being whipped

(which she absolutely is but... no one needs to know that)

lowkey a sucker for cuddles, and her favourite is when you lay your head in her lap and she can play with your hair

and poking you teasingly when she catches you falling asleep, wanting to keep talking to you until she finally decides to let you nap against her

Chaeyoung is STRONK and loves to show off at the most random of times

You: *having absolutely no problem opening a jar*

Chaeyoung: "hey babe looks like you're having trouble there let me show you how it's DONE"

and proceeds to open the perfectly easy jar before flexing her biceps and making you giggle because. that's your mf girlfriend okay and if she wants to be a gentlewoman and open jars for you then. SO BE IT

dates can range from being at home and screaming at the cringy scenes in romance movies to dressing up to the absolute max and hitting the town,,,, both work for you guys

chaeyoung loves dressing up to go out, mostly because the way you look at her makes her feel like an absolute princess

actually, you look at chaeyoung like she's a princess whether she's in a dress or her pyjamas,, and it often makes her realise just how in love you are with her

which is a huge comfort for her, because she's absolutely head over heels for you, and navigating through these intense feelings feels a lot easier when she knows you're going through the exact same thing

those are the kind of thoughts chaeyoung only shares when she's wrapped up in your arms and half awake in the early hours of the morning, both of you too sleepy to feel the weight of your words,, while simultaneously feeling wide awake as you confess your love to one another

ok that was deep tf. anyways !

Chaeyoung very very very much loves sharing clothes

nothing gets her heart pumping like the sight of you dressed in her sweatpants and hoodies

as someone who can be a tad possessive at times, she loves to see you wrapped in her scent and she honestly thinks you just look so good in them

speaking of jealousy,,,, it is an absolute no no for chaeyoung if someone else even thINKS about flirting with her baby

she has never felt a love as powerful as she has with you, and no one, and she means no.one. is going to take that away from you guys

if someone did flirt with you in front of her she'd soon have her an arm wrapped around your waist and would say something like, "baby, is this person bothering you?" just to get you out of the situation

to which you would thank her, before reassuring her that you're absolutely all hers with a mind-blowing kiss that leaves Chaeyoung smiling like the love sick fool that she is

Tells you SO many stories of her members doing dumb shit omg they're basically your 8 new besties before you even meet them

Chaeyoung impersonating you whenever you do something embarassing my god will she just let you LIVEEE (no she absolutely will not)

she really random affectionate things that make no sense but also you know thats how she shows her love for you so???? you love it anyway????

like. imagine getting a message from her and its a picture of gum stuck to the floor in a shape that BARELY resembles a heart and she’s all like “babe... this is how i feel about you”

but you accept her for being the dork she is,, eventually turning it into a competition to find the most random thing around you that reminds you and Chaeyoung of one another

your relationship is unique, but it’s a perfect kind of love that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside whenever Chaeyoung looks at you <3

NSFW From Here:

i think i could see Chaeyoung preferring to be on top, always using her strength to get the upper hand and leaving you a moaning mess beneath her

does NOT stand for you being quiet; it's the little whines and moans of appreciation from you that drive her absolutely wild

once again with the possessive thing, Chaeyoung would definitely be one to fuck you while you're wearing her hoodie or her oversized t-shirt

or even when you’re clad in her clothes, rocking back and forth on her thigh as her strong hands grip your waist, Chaeyoung whispering words of encouragement and praise in your ear

and you know just how much it drives her crazy, so more often than not you tend to text a few,,, interesting photos to your girlfriend, your legs spread wide open while you're clad in one of her shirts

and you know she'll be so on edge for the whole day, the image of you running through her brain on a never-ending loop

also absolutely loves when you tug on her hair, whether it's when you thread your hands in her locks while you're making out

or if she's buried in-between your legs and your gripping onto her hair for dear life as she brings you closer and closer to the edge

when it's your turn to please Chaeyoung the way she needs it, she always gets so flustered, trying her best to keep a cocky facade,,, but ultimately she always succumbs to the pleasure and becomes a whiny mess beneath you

has a thing for mirrors

imagine your back flush against her chest while you sit on your lap, your legs hooked open over hers as you watch her plunge her fingers in and out of your dripping core

this is also where Chaeyoung is a sucker for eye contact, her eyes darkened with lust capturing your own as you try not to squeeze them shut out of pleasure

for the times when she’s feeling less serious, you best believe Chaeyoung will be teasing you endlessly, laughing as she kisses you all over and can’t help but whisper against her skin just how much she loves you

if there’s one thing about Chaeyoung, it’s that she definitely knows how to make you feel good about yourself, with her endless kind words and soft kisses that make you dizzy

followed by endless cuddles and soft aftercare as she takes care of you, even going as far as carrying you to the bath after long nights where your legs fail to hold you up ;)

[reidingdays]

the first 3 minutes of zugzwang: an ESSAY nobody asked for and i mean an essay the english student really jumped out on this one lads

this scene is arguably the best acting i’ve seen matthew gray gubler ever do and it’s JUST HIM STANDING IN A PARK

so we start in a park, there’s soft music and to me it sounds academic and whimsical, optimistic like you’ve got all the world’s puzzles to explore and endless time to do it in. it’s something straight out of a beautiful mind. it’s autumn, warm colours abound and the cosy vibes continue as spencer’s in good spirits and a warm jacket

he looks happy!!! peaceful!! content!!! treasure that with me, will you

the music reaches a higher key as he dials maeve’s number and he’s making little chhhh chhh chuu noises, singing his own song under his breath in his own little world, the picture of ease, as he calls and immediately hangs up to let her know it’s only him, not her stalker. his movements are light and fluid and given his aversion to technology and germs he doesn’t falter once as he dials on this very public phone box

he sighs because he’s done this a thousand times over but it’s not a sad sigh. it seems kind of like acceptance, as if he’s made peace with the situation and he’s in it for the long haul. it's simply routine. he instinctively - subconsciously?? - reaches for his satchel like a safety blanket, like a reminding reassurance that this is working, she’s safe, and he looks EXCITED while awaiting her call back

he even walks a few steps away, shoves his hands in his pockets, turns away from the phone box, because he knows she’ll call back. there’s no anxiety there, no pressure to stare at the thing until it rings. he trusts her. as he looks around the park he continues the chhh chh chhhh noises, admiring the scene passively among nose scrunches because this is just another liminal space, another random phone box, on his journey to be with maeve

when the phone rings, boy damn near gives himself WHIPLASH look at that hair flip!!!! majestic!!! he couldn’t care LESS about the beautiful park he wants to talk to maeve!!

after he practically dives on top of the phone box, he answers with a jaunty lil “hellooOOOoOO!!” and just look at the mischief on that there face. his eyes are squinted because he’s ready to tease and debate obscure literary theories. there’s the hint of a smirk. he’s playful, ready and willing to hang on her every word, and then the happy whimsical walk in the park music CUTS OUT

CUTS RIGHT OUT

in literally 0.03 seconds his face goes from mischevious lil puppy!!!!!!! to oh shit this isn’t right this isn’t maeve. a collect call from adam worth means danger. his head snaps up, there’s tension in his neck how the hell and his eyebrows are pulled down, eyes wider and can’t focus on anything, BOTH hands clutching the phone and pressing it so close to his face as if doing that could help him concentrate

the operator tells him to pay 2 dollars to hear the call and he freezes then JERKS his body back from the abyss his mind is so clearly spiraling down, like he has to remind his limbs to work. he smacks his arm against the phone box but doesn’t even register it. my bet is he whacked his funny bone and we all know that hurts like the DICKENS and there's still zero reaction. his pain is irrelevant. his breathing is loud and ragged, offbeat and unnerving against the Dramatic Violins, he scrabbles through his satchel with absolutely no regard for it at all because it’s in the WAY, hair falls in his face, then he just RIPS the bag off his person like it’s rubbish

tips out its contents like a man possessed. we’re talking books on books on books. and spencer loves books.

it’s a desperate bid to find enough change to pay for the call. like this guy is a germaphobe. he’s on his KNEES in a public park on a well trodden footpath with a manky phone still glued to his ear, all his possessions are now covered in god knows what, his beloved satchel is cast aside like litter, he’s not even looking at where is hand is in germ city because he’s staring the phone box out in case, knowing his luck, it sets on fire

all his movements are frantic and jagged and, yes, spencer isn’t known for being a swan but he’s also not a jerky marionette. he staggers upright and shoves his change into the phone box, impatiently pushes his hair out of his face to no avail and he’s blinking like five times more than before

the intonation of “hello i’m still here” OH GOD it is spoken completely monotone which is beyond out of character, going to show just how!!! unnerved!!!! he is!!!! happy joyful jaunty hellooOOoOs are long forgotten. he doesn’t have time for emotion which again is SO UNSETTLING THIS IS SPENCER REID KING OF EMOTION. the next scene with hotch is when he allows emotion to seep back into his voice, but right now, alone and responsible, he has to block it out. each word is rushed together to get them out faster the SECOND the call connects and when it does, we hear zugzwang. he steadies himself with another breath and not to be as Dramatic as the violins but his eyes go hard?? because he knows the meaning of that word and infers bad things are about to happen because bad things just follow him around.

he looks up because how the hell can this be happening WE WERE SO CAREFUL. he almost definitely thought through every potential threat and every precaution made wasn’t enough. his entire face screams desperation, denial, guilt, what the fuck. it’s like he gives himself one split second of panic, pain, doubt and fear but then he shuts it out. you can see his brain kick back in when he asks “sorry can you please repeat that?” in order to engage with whoever this is because maybe that will help? because being polite and soft spoken is his strength AND ALWAYS WILL BE (i digress). but the reply is another zugzwang. farewell happy peaceful and content spencer you lasted literally 21 seconds

and then he pulls THIS face out of his arsenal and you just know spencer isn’t going to get a happy ending because he never does and what better way to destroy the character development of both spencer and maeve, the woman that was created simply to be murdered and SCENE

[pastel9girlbunny000die]

The monster trio Destroying their s/o Nest !

{The idea of the trio destroying their omega's nest was really funny to begin with}

Warning: None, well there is slightly little bit if bad language

Monkey D.Luffy 🍖🍖🍖

🍖Luffy didn't know what happened

🍖One minute he was care freely running around than the next he tripped landing on a pile of clothes blankets and stuff animals .ect

🍖In all honesty he didn't think much of it, I mean it just clothes...

🍖But No!

🍖This dumb meat brain picks it up stuffing the items into whatever drawer or closet he could find, thinking he did a good "clean up" duty.

🍖And just runs off to continue playing with Usopp and Chopper.

🍖Later on when you return with Sanji from the local market that the Sunny is currently dock at.

🍖"Thanks for the help, (Y/n)." Sanji said as he and placed down the groceries in the kitchen.

🍖"No prop." You smiled leaving the cook to his work, the blond gleefully started cooking for dinner knowing he has a lot to do.

🍖With Luffy on the crew he won't just be feeding one person more like an army in fact.

🍖(Y/n) left as they walked back on deck feeling the warm air and relaxing atmosphere around them it was all quite but all good things must come to an end.

🍖"Hey, (Y/n) check out this beetle it's as big as my hand look look!" (Y/n) turned seeing their captain, (Y/n)'s alpha their bonded mate.

🍖Luffy happily ran to his omega wanting to show them the bug which they flinch at, (Y/n) despised insects just as much as Nami and Sanji does so naturally they back up a little away from their lovingly childish alpha

🍖"No thanks Luffy but I'm going to take a nap."

🍖"Yeah! Than I'll take one with you." Luffy jumped around excited to spend time with his s/o.

🍖Placing the bug down rush after his omega following them down to a specific room below deck.

🍖When (Y/n) open the door they seemed a little confused thinking they must have walked into the wrong room.

🍖No this is the right room

🍖What happened ? It's all gone!!!

🍖An omega's Nest usually a place where an omega can be comfortable, whether if they are in heat or just having a bad day.

🍖But where's (Y/n) nest?

🍖"Luffy where i-is my n-nest?" (Y/n) questioned pointing at the empty room infront of them tears building up into their eyes body trembling as they point to the "missing nest" looking over their shoulder at Luffy who seemed confused.

🍖The alpha could scent that their omega is in distress and anger.

🍖"Nest? Huh?... All that was in there was a blankets and pillows what nest?"

🍖"Luffy what happened to my nest?" At this point Luffy's s/o was in full blown tears sobbing and whimpering.

🍖"(Y/n) I don't know what you're saying? All I did was clean up you know being grown up like you said." Luffy laughed being clueless like always.

🍖"Luffy you idiot!" (Y/n) yelled slamming the door in Luffy's face.

🍖Don't worry he didn't stay clueless forever, Nami saw the he thing go down.

🍖Gave him a hell of a beating.

🍖Afterwards explains to him what he did wrong in the most simplest way possible to screw it through his thick head.

🍖(Y/n) with a tears stain face and a sad look quietly took out blankets and pillows where every they could find some scenting a few stuff animals, working on repairing thier nest little whimpers leaving thier lips everytime the fortress flops apart.

🍖Soft knocks traveled from the door catching (Y/n) attention.

🍖"hey~" Luffy's head peaks through a purr leaving his mouth as he tries to lighten the situation and calming his omega.

🍖"What?" (Y/n) says wanting to sound mean but it came off more of a sob.

🍖"Sorry. My omega." Luffy placed his strawhat onto (Y/n) head it was filled with his scent calming down the sad omega, the hat (Y/n) wore many times before Luffy wouldn't easily let others wear it, other than those who he trusts with all his heart.

🍖"I'll help you." Luffy sat down on his knees next to (Y/n) taking up a few pillows into his arrms

🍖"Thank, you Alpha." (Y/n) wrapped their arms around Luffy's neck taking in a long breath of his scent.

🍖"Can, can you also scent a few things, please."

🍖"Yeah!"😃

🍖"And I'll start with you!"😚

🍖"W-what?!"😳

Roronoa Zoro ⚔⚔⚔

⚔Yes Zoro knows what nesting is

⚔The only way he knew was when his s/o direactly came up to him and told him.

⚔He didn't mind he secretly thought it was cute, rare to see such a adorable omega, his omega crawled into their nest looking all comfy and happy.

⚔But over time he started missing clothes, he just shrugged it off, not really caring cause he knows you have been sneaking some of his stuff into your nest.

⚔Like every omega they want their alpha's scent near them for comfort emotional times or during heat.

⚔He couldn't care less

⚔but he'd still scent anything you ask, he would even do it when you don't ask.

⚔But there's one thing (Y/n) wanted more than any piece of Zoro's clothes in their nest

⚔Zoro's haramaki.

⚔It was hard for them too just go up and ask him for it, he'd say no cause he usually carrying his swords with it.

⚔So all they could do was steal it when the marimo was in the shower.

⚔It was successful!

⚔The green haired swordsman, Alpha didn't noticed it was missing till he tried placing his swords in thier place but instead dropped to the ground though to the missing Haramaki that was not around his hips.

⚔At first he thought he must have misplaced it.

⚔He even ended up looking in the laundry room but no luck.

⚔Until his omega that means the whole world to him came to his mind, you must have seen it right?

⚔At first you denied it, "No. I haven't? Last I saw it you were wearing it." (Y/n) try their best to keep Zoro's off their tail and laying to your alpha feels like your betraying them.

⚔Somehow he ended up looking in your nest, he felt bad about invading your privacy but he has to have his Haramaki back he just gotta.

⚔But it was also weird that (Y/n) stop asking for stuff to be scent or being scented themselves.

⚔Zoro dig through the tent like nest pulling out blankets and throwing pillows out.

⚔Found It! His precious Haramaki.

⚔"Why would (Y/n) lay?" Zoro mumble to himself putting the Piece of clothes back on.

⚔"No! Stop destroying my nest!" A voice yelled at the alpha from behind as he was tackled to the ground.

⚔"Why did you had to find it this soon, I was going to give it back later." (Y/n) pouted giving Zoro puppy eyes tugging at the material around his hips.

⚔"So you took it, you know it's not good lay to you alpha, little omega~" Zoro smirked in quick movement pinning his omega down beneath him sitting in between their legs.

⚔"Bad Boy/Girl~ but why my Haramaki?" Zoro purred sending shivers down your spine the omega in you turned on by your dominant alpha, just hovering over you.

⚔"I wanted something... you use everyday."

⚔"mmmh~"

⚔"Well I'm going to have to punish you, I skipped too many training and napping sessions looking for this."

⚔"Wait, alpha-" (Y/n) was shut up before they could finish as the alpha above took them right there and then...

⚔Next thing you took was his bandana😏

Sanji Vinsmoke 🚬🚬🚬

🚬Sanji loves your nest, his in there everytime when you allowed it made him feel so special. Because he is. He is your alpha mate duh. especially when you have your heat😏

🚬Butttttttt now his currently in a huge crisis.

🚬how did it happen... well...

🚬A while ago he finished making some delicious tropical drinks for the ladies and yours is made the best of the best.

🚬He made it exactly to your liking with every thought of you in mind, it made his alpha very pleasing to serve you.

🚬Despite what genders his omega is or how they met, he'd be on his hands and knees giving you all he has.

🚬He happily bouncing into the room where his omega's nest was built.

🚬"Look what daddy brought you my pup~" Sanji sang kneeling down to the nest opening the cover looking in the nest like tent.

🚬His smile dropped when his s/o was nowhere to be seen, thinking you must have left for the bathroom or something?

🚬"Oh well."

🚬Suddenly the ship rocked, a wave or one of Luffy's stupid doings.

🚬.... That was the least of his worries...

🚬The drink slipped from the tray spilling into (Y/n) nest!!!!

🚬😱!!!!!!!!!!!😱

🚬This was the end of him.

🚬That bring us to how he ended up in this situation to begin with.

🚬"No no no no no no !!!" Sanji panic pulling out the wet blankets and pillows with some of his shirts or pants.

🚬You just recently gave him free access at anytime to be in your nest, after this your not going to near your nest in his life time again

🚬He broke your trusts

🚬He shattered his nesting fantasies

🚬Its all down the drain

🚬is what he currently felt like while pulling all the wet stuff out.

🚬At some point the blanket he was pulling got stuck so he pulled harder bringing down the hole nest came crashing down.

🚬Now his fucked.

🚬Sinking to his weak knees as he tears drip from his eyes he got to an ugly sobbing, and his scent change to a gloomy disgusting scent one that he doubt you would want to be scented in.

🚬And worst of all fear of you declining a bond between the two of you.

🚬...

🚬(Y/n) opened the door immediately catching the sight of their alpha on the floor kneeling infront of the door his forehead though the floor boards.

🚬"Daddy, what happened?" You looked at your destroyed nest behind him and his scent made you hold you nose shutting it tightly for the first time, glance back down at the blonde, worried and confused.

🚬"Icameintogiveyoudrinkthanshipmovelostbalancedroppeddrinkonnesttridetockeanbutmadeitworstpleasedontleavemeilldoanything!!!!!!"

🚬"Huh?" (Y/n) titled their head to the side not getting anything he said, kneeling down on front of him, "Its okay, I can just fix the nest stop crying, is okay alpha." (Y/n) purred letting off a relaxing soft and sweet scent as he cooled him down his nerves stopped sky rocketing.

🚬Rubbing his back helped and your soft caring loving words lighten his atmosphere and his hopes.

🚬"Pup~"

🚬"Yes, daddy?~"

🚬"Sorry."

🚬"it's okay I'd never hate you for something that wasn't your fault, is fine your honest with me and tried to make it all better."

🚬"My pup~" Sanji yelled his mood completely turned squeezing the daylights out of his s/o

🚬"But you not allow in my nest for the next 2 weeks."

🚬*Sanji Instantly cried again*😭😭😭

[pips-fics]

ask: Hi 👉👈 if it’s okay can I request a hyunjin centric fic? where he’s feverish and emotional nd the others give him lots of affection and comfort 🥺🥺 I love your blog so much it’s so soft and feels safe and ahhh it makes me happy 👉👈 thank you and it’s okay if you don’t feel up to it !!

ask: hello! how are you? i just wanted to say that this is my all time fave blog :) i’m kinda new to tumblr so i’m not sure if that’s how u say it tho hahaha. are u down for requested atm? if yes, could i request a sick hyunjinnie with any caretaker (preferably bangchan). if u are not taking requests atm, then carry on with ur day 🌸✨💜

tw: vomiting, fainting

let us break ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

all idols are trained actors. a lot of people don’t realize it, maybe, but they had to be, to some extent. even before debuting, they learned by observation how to fake health, confidence, and calm - and beyond debut, it was happiness all the time. once, hyunjin found out that one of his best childhood friends was in the hospital, and then sang and smiled through a fansign without blinking an eye an hour later. he knew other idols who had endured much worse.

so yes, while hyunjin might not be entirely comfortable playing a role in a movie or a show, he was quite capable of faking it. maybe that’s why he was able to convince his group mates that he was okay right up until he collapsed.

he hadn’t expected things to get so bad. at first, he was just a bit congested - nothing he couldn’t pass off as allergies, really. once he’d gotten wrapped up in practicing, it had been easy to brush anything else off - like sweating, achy muscles, even nausea - as an effect of intense exercise. too easy, maybe, because hyunjin was not at all prepared for his vision to flicker with darkness or for his legs to entirely give up in the middle of dancing.

fortunately, he retained consciousness, but he wasn’t able to stand quickly enough to dodge minho as he moved to their next formation. the older boy tripped over hyunjin and tumbled to the ground with an “oof,” which was then followed by the chaos of everyone trying to figure out what had happened at once.

it was way too much for hyunjin’s fevered brain to process. he shut down, the sounds blurring into something entirely nonsensical, so hyunjin tuned it all out until a gentle hand on his back made him jump.

“hyunjinnie?” it was chan, wiping tears away. “can you tell me what’s wrong?”

hyunjin shook his head. “minho-hyung–”

“he’s okay,” chan said. “don’t worry.”

shuffling his feet awkwardly, minho nodded. “i know how to fall safely. it happens to the best of us.”

with the greatest of his greatest fears alleviated, hyunjin took a few deep breaths and looked around the room. besides minho, who was still standing nearby looking moderately uncomfortable, and chan, who was rubbing comforting circles on hyunjin’s back, the rest of the members were hanging out near the benches on the other side of the practice room. jisung was talking to their dance teacher while jeongin and changbin were messing with felix in what was probably a deliberate attempt at creating a distraction. seungmin was quietly observing hyunjin from a distance, concern written all over his face. distractions didn’t tend to work as well on him. hyunjin managed a smile in an attempt to be reassuring, but it didn’t seem to have the intended effect.

rather than relaxing, seungmin’s frown deepened, and he stood up and walked over, arms crossed. “don’t act like you’re okay,” he said, and hyunjin suddenly understood. he waved his arms around placatingly.

“i won’t - i’ll take today off, okay?” hyunjin caved easily. next to him, chan looked shocked, and not without reason.

three years ago, things would have gone down quite differently. things had gone down quite differently when hyunjin had been a trainee, and he’d woken up in the hospital with a very rattled seungmin at his bedside. hyunjin wouldn’t make that mistake again any time soon if he could help it.

that didn’t make it easy.

somehow the tears started up again of their own accord as hyunjin relented. “i’m sorry,” he said. “i– i’ll make it up to you all later, i know i’m behind with the dance, it’s just–”

this got the attention of the rest of the group, eliciting a scoff from changbin. “please don’t - if you do that, i’ll be even more behind than i already am.”

“give us a chance to catch up!” jisung added.

hyunjin shook his head. “but i’m supposed to be a dancer.”

felix bounded over and latched on to hyunjin’s arm. “you’re ahead of me, too. i think the only one you’re not ahead of is minho-hyung, and he made half of the choreography.”

minho nodded solemnly. “i cheated.”

hyunjin was too tired to feel better about himself, but too miserable to argue, so he just shrugged and avoided eye contact with everyone.

chan put a hand to hyunjin’s forehead, and nodded as if confirming something. “i’ll come back to the dorm with you, then - i could use a rest day, too, i think.”

with no room for argument, hyunjin decided not to bother trying, despite his misgivings about taking up chan’s time. also, out of all of them, hyunjin thought that chan could use the extra rest the most. by the time they arrived at the dorm, the guilt in hyunjin’s stomach was more or less consumed by an overwhelming sense of loneliness and fear.

he settled in to the living room, sinking into the couch and trying to repress his body’s violent shivering by wrapping himself in a blanket, though it wasn’t very effective. hyunjin was relieved when chan sat next to him, pulling out his laptop - as expected, not really taking a break after all, but hyunjin didn’t mind. he knew chan was busy, and liked to feel productive as often as possible. people relaxed in different ways, anyway. just like that, despite the growing ache in his stomach, hyunjin began to relax and drift off to sleep.

it wasn’t until chan moved to get up that hyunjin snapped back awake. he immediately latched on to chan’s arm.

“hyung, don’t leave me.”

the words were out of his mouth before hyunjin had a chance to consider them, and he immediately hid his face in the couch cushions in embarrassment.

“hyunjinnie,” chan said gently, brushing a hand through hyunjin’s hair. he didn’t sound annoyed, so hyunjin peeked up at him, and found him smiling fondly. “i wasn’t going to leave, just going to get some water. you want anything?”

hyunjin felt his cheeks redden, and let go of chan’s arm. he shook his head. “sorry, hyung.”

“nothing to worry about,” chan said.

being alone even briefly was unsettling to hyunjin, feeling as bad as he was. it meant being forced to take stock of his body, which meant confronting that he felt, somehow, even worse than before. his head was pounding, everything hurt, and his stomach–

his stomach flipped very violently, and hyunjin retched, leaning over the couch, a bit stunned. he swallowed back the vile substance that rushed up his throat with a whimper and scrambled to his feet.

he made it to the toilet just in time for his body to rebel again. this time, hyunjin was hopeless to stop it, and it wasn’t long before tears were rolling down his cheeks. his hair was sticking to his face, matted down with sweat and in some places vomit. hyunjin tried to push it out of his way, but his hands were shaking terribly, and the nausea was so overwhelming, it was hard to focus on anything else.

chan found hyunjin with his cheek on the toilet seat, expression vacant, past the point of caring about a mess. when he saw chan, his face scrunched up into a sad pout.

“hyung… i’m sorry…”

chan chuckled and shook his head. “don’t apologize,” he said quietly, moving to hyunjin’s side just as the younger man began heaving again. chan held hyunjin’s hair and rubbed his shoulder blades, wishing he could do more. he couldn’t help but wince at the way hyunjin’s muscles tensed beneath his fingers.

it took quite a while for hyunjin’s stomach to settle. for about 10 minutes, it was on-and-off puking, half his time spent bent over the toilet, and the other half bonelessly slumped against chan. by the end, he was so exhausted that chan was considering bringing a mixing bowl into the bathroom, just so that hyunjin didn’t have to put so much effort into moving.

finally, hyunjin let out a shuddering sigh - or maybe a sob - and curled up in chan’s lap.

“can i sleep here?” hyunjin mumbled, words slurred with exhaustion. some of the sick in his hair was beginning to dry.

“soon, jinnie. for now, let’s get you cleaned up.”

chan opted to give hyunjin a warm bath, and was pleased when hyunjin relaxed into it, half-asleep. he figured it was okay for the younger man to take a quick nap under chan’s supervision. by the time hyunjin was clean, chan was reluctant to wake him. just as he was about to, hyunjin’s face scrunched up, and he whimpered.

“hyunjin?”

“‘m sorry,” he mumbled, fresh tears slipping down his cheeks. “i’ll do better…”

chan shook him gently, and hyunjin’s eyes flew open. “i’m sorry, i–” he cut himself off with a gasp, taking in his surroundings slowly. “channie-hyung?”

“hey, buddy,” he said, speaking softly. “you okay?”

hyunjin was breathing in short, quick gasps. his eyes darted around the small room, as though searching for something. he blinked quickly, and looked back at chan, who offer a smile.

“it’s just us, you know?”

drinking air as though its supply was dangerously limited, hyunjin nodded. “i know, yeah, i just… hyung, i’m ruining your day off.”

chan shook his head immediately. “what are you talking about, jinnie? you know i’m here because i want to be, right?”

hyunjin bit his lip, trying not to cry. his fevered brain was not being kind to him. chan’s words were too genuine to deny, though, so he nodded, eyes closed. he felt chan’s arms wrap around him, hesitant until hyunjin hugged him back.

“jinnie, you’re allowed to be human. you’re allowed to hurt. it’s okay.”

something there caught him off guard. something broke, something that had been built up, something that had protected hyunjin for a long time. a little snap. it hurt, realizing he’d closed himself off without realizing it, and holding back tears was a lost cause, but then - that was kind of chan’s point.

why hide them?

so hyunjin cried, broken a bit, but held together by one of his best friends - his family. he let himself break a bit more - just as much as he needed - and didn’t flinch when the rest of the members came home. he let them in through a little crack of a doorway, let him hold him and remind him of who he was, and he began to heal.

——

no reader survey this time, too tired and my computer is breaking but please feel free to send in any thoughts you’d like to share, about the fic or otherwise!

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feel free to send more asks! / rules

[legoshi-plz]

Pretenses Part Five (Louis x Reader)

Summary: Louis is a spoiled prince and you are a clumsy maid. Prince! Louis x Canine!Dog! Reader.

Warning: NSFW (+18)

Despite Louis’ outwardly composed nature, inside he was in full blown panic mode.

He had just finished up yet another uneventful dinner with his father and his future bride; now it was time to return to his chambers. His chambers he hadn’t been in since this morning. His chambers where he was currently holding you hostage.

Louis stood in front of his door for who knows how long before finally opening it with great hesitation, preparing himself for your angry, perhaps even violent response. Instead he was greeted with.... silence. You were on the bed where he’d left you, sound asleep.

Louis couldn’t help the relieved flutter of his tail at the sight of your sleeping form.

You had curled under the covers, probably to keep warm in the cold air of his chambers, your form rising and falling peacefully as you snoozed. Louis approached you slowly, checking to make sure you were actually asleep before his hands flew to throw off his royal regalia.

Once free from the confines of his complex uniform, he was under the covers immediately. Bringing your snoozing figure into his arms. You didn’t move a muscle; it was evident you were a heavy sleeper. Louis already knew this from his time watching you as you took your midday naps in his chambers but he didn’t know it was to such a great extent. He shifted so that he could lay his head on your chest, arms encircling your waist. He listened to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat, his breathing slowing down to match your own.

He was asleep in minutes.

////////

You awoke to a weight on your chest and the smell of Louis’ cologne surrounding you. When you opened your eyes, the brightness assaulted your vision, making you attempt to turn away but that attempt was futile.

The Prince, who definitely wasn’t there when you fell asleep yesterday, was laying directly on top of you with his head on your chest, arms in a deadlock around your waist. You were caged beneath him, his weight pinning you down. You contemplated screaming bloody murder, hoping you could shock him into letting you go and make a run for it but decided against it. You doubted he’d remember to lock the door behind him, that could possibly be an opportunity for you to escape. You slowly began trying to pull his long arms from you when you felt his grip tighten.

“Don’t even think about it,” Louis mumbled, nuzzling further into your neck.

“My liege, please stop this indecency. As rightful heir to the thrown, a lowly maid such as myself would only sully-

“How long did you practice that one? Is that what you were doing yesterday while I was gone? Rehearsing pleas so I’d let you go?” Louis chuckled, finally opening his eyes. Sleepy amber orbs met your own irises and you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful his brown eyes looked in the morning sun. They didn’t reflect the light but instead nearly consumed it, a complete contrast to the brown of his fur.

“You must be hungry? You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday, if that. I’ll call the kitchen and have them bring us something up. Breakfast in bed doesn’t sound too bad,” Louis bit his lip as his eyes drank in your form beneath him. He definitely looked hungry, yet for something other than food; his eyes were burning with barely contained lust.

“I-I have to go, my Prince. I have to perform my duties in the kitch-AH,” you were cut off when Louis sat up and brought you with him as he pulled you onto his lap to straddle him. You felt your fur prickle with embarrassment as you realized not only was he shirtless, but he also seemed to be only in his underwear, the dark blue embroided material providing a very thin barrier to the Prince’s most precious asset.

“What about your duties to me?” Louis hummed, rubbing his hands up and down the fur of your outter thighs. The top of your uniform was still very much ripped open, so you brought your arms up to cover yourself, the blankets you’d been curled under no longer providing you coverage.

“Ah ah ah, you should know better than to hide yourself from me,” Louis hummed, prying your arms from your chest. He leaned forward, his mouth capturing once of your hardened nipples. The feeling of his hot tongue on your sensitive peak sent a jolt of electricity through you.

“Pr-pr-princeee, pleaaaase,” you moaned lightly, your voice nothing more than a breathy whisper.

Louis ignored you, instead moving to the other peak while his hands found themselves back at your plush hips. He rocked upwards into you, his hard member making its presence know.

“Take these off,” Louis mumbled against your areola, tugging at your panties. When you hesitated, he simply sighed before ripping them off himself.

“My Pri-

“Shut up,” Louis groaned against your chest, the vibrations further stimulating your raised peak. Louis plunged his fingers into your arching cavern just as he had the day before. You felt your head swirl in embarrassment and arousal, the two emotions battling for dominance.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you? How long I’ve desired you?” Louis asked, his free hand coming up to cup your jaw. His eyes burned with such passion for you, it was hard to not look away.

“That’s it, ride my hand. Just like that,” Louis grunted and you hadn’t even noticed your pelvis had begun grinding into his hand to meet the thrusts of his fingers. Your body was moving completely on its own, anything to help relieve the pressure growing in your lower belly.

Suddenly, Louis ceased his movements, lifting you up slightly with one hand while he pulled his underwear down with the other. His member sprang to life, resting against his abdomen as it stood glistening with precum. Being a stag and royalty, it was natural to assume he’d be well-endowed but nothing could have prepared you for the vision that was his impressive length.

He took your hands in his own larger ones and wrapped them around his weeping shaft. He let out a soft “fuck...” as he guided your hands up and down. He let go once you found your own rhythm, no longer needing his assistance for such a simple act.

“You’re so good at this- too good, actually. Did you touch Azuki’s mutt like this? Huh?” Louis asked breathlessly, his death grip returning to your thighs.

“I already told you yesterday, we aren’t like... that...” you grumbled, swiping your fingers over his sensitive cockhead, causing a needy groan to tear from his throat.

“Then what were you two like? You were already letting that filthy mongrel close enough to scent you, it’d be nothing for you to get on your knees for him.” Louis said angrily and you suddenly remembered exactly where you were and, more importantly, who you were with.

No amount of pretty words and declarations of desire were going to keep Louis’ true nature at bay for long. He was vile and malicious at heart. You knew this. He’d proven it to you time and time again. So when was it finally going to register in your dumb little brain?

You released his cock immediately, and climbed off his lap and out of his bed. You headed straight for the door but Louis was faster, grabbing and pinning you against the very door you’d been trying to exit from.

“Why do you keep running away from me? Can’t you see what I’m trying to do here?” Louis groaned into the nape of your neck. It sent shivers down your spine and you resisted the urge to arch into him.

“You’re trying to control me, to manipulate me”

“I’m trying to love you.” Louis craned his head back to look into your eyes. He saw no warmth in them.

“You have a peculiar way of expressing your ‘love’, my lord,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Annnnd we’re back to the incorrect formalities. Every time I feel we’ve taken one step forward, you move three spaces back. Why do you insist on fighting me so? I know you feel it, I can’t be imagining this attraction between us,” Louis finished, the grip on you wrists that previously had you pinned against the door now residing so that he could caress your forearms with the pads of his thumbs.

“I fight it because I know my place. I’m a dog, your highness. Lower than any other Herbivore commoner, and amongst the unfavorable even within Carnivore spaces. Most of the animals around here think I should be banished for even working within the castle during the day, let alone catering to you.”

“Their opinions don’t matter, they have no authority here-”

“It does matter, your highness. Because once your infatuation with me ceases, which is inevitable, you will return to your fiancé, marry her, be crowned King, and produce heirs. And all I’ll have is my life as a lowly commoner. That’s the natural order of things.” You lamented, your voice feeling thick with emotion.

“So what, you believe your future is with Azuki’s guard dog? Popping out litter after litter for him until you die? That’s no way to live, he can’t commit to you. His life already belongs to another woman and that’s Azuki.”

“You don’t think I know that? I’m fully aware of the hold our future Queen has over him. I’m just grateful for every moment he chooses to share with me. Makes my life a little less lonely...,”

“I could make your life less lonely! I could do that for you, better than he ever could!” Louis was slightly begging now, he could hear it in his own voice but he was beyond the point of caring.

“Don’t you see I feel my loneliest when I’m with you? All you’ve ever made me feel was small, and stupid, and unworthy. Legoshi doesn’t point out how I misuse words just to remind me of how uneducated I am. He doesn’t point out how unrefined my taste pallet is or force me to eat food outside of the carnivore diet. He doesn’t drag me out of bed at night to look at some stupid star a million miles away on some balcony when I’m afraid of heights. He doesn’t tell me where I can and can’t go, who I can and can’t see, just because he felt like it. He doesn’t humiliate me every chance he gets! He doesn’t boss me around just because he can!” There were hot tears streaming down your face. You had been holding this in for a long time.

“I see...,” Louis said finally breaking the silence. He released you from his grasp and took a step back. He adjusted himself, tucking his forgotten member fully back into his underwear. Though he had a beautiful body envious to those of Gods, he seemed almost shy about his lack of clothing now.

He glanced at your tattered uniform before muttering a “wait here... please...”, and walking towards one of the humongous wardrobes in his room. He pulled out a pristine, new uniform and walked back over to hand it to you.

“I kept a lot of these on hand, in case you ever wanted.... a more comfortable bed to lay your head at night...” Louis’s voice had never seemed so clouded. You silently accepted the uniform.

“You have my deepest apologies for my behavior. Such veracity was never my intention. I hereby relieve you of all obligation to me. You may return to the kitchen or to the gardens or to somewhere new if you like. Whereever you choose to go is fine, I’ll notify Stallworth of my approval. I...” Louis hesitated, finally bringing his eyes up yours.

“You’re free to go.”

/////////

A/N: I finally know how I want this story to end so hopefully they’ll only be two more parts for this series and it’ll reach it’s completion! Also thank you all again for 1K!

[cryingoverafictionalcharacter]

Fred Weasley x Reader

 Prompt: The three times Fred knew he fell for you, and the one time he told you he loves you.

A/N: I absolutely love this prompt, I’ve seen it a couple times before but if your the creator of it please let me know so I can give you credit. Also credits to the owner of this gif!

Warnings: My longest fic ever, So many commas, Fluff, maybe angst but not really, Fred being cute, you being cute, both you and Fred being oblivious to your feelings, swearing bc its me, I think that’s it

It all started sixth year. Fred was sitting across the room from you in potions, one of the only classes you had together. You knew each other pretty well, being in the same house and year as each other, but you didn’t really get to know each other until year five, when a certain incident brought you together.

You were working on a potion, trying to read the directions as you simultaneously poured in your ingredients, before looking up and seeing you were accidentally putting in dragons horn instead of dragon claw. You started flipping through you book frantically, causing Snape to walk over.

“Something the matter Y/L/N” He said in his monotone voice, but before you could answer, your potion exploded, causing thick purple slime to cover the both of you.

The class went completely silent, not daring to speak, except for Fred, who after a few seconds was kneeled over laughing.

“Ten points from Gryffindor, and both Y/N Y/L/N and Fred Weasley will be spending the rest of the day in detention” Snape said, dismissing the class before excusing himself to exit to his office, leaving Fred to look at your purple covered self, only to be surprised when you let out a chuckle.

“He’s a lot less scary when he’s purple” You said to Fred, which caused both of you to fall into a new wave of laughter, before you pulled out your wand and muttered a quick cleaning spell.

Fred watched noticing you had missed a spot in your hair, making Fred cross the room over to you and reach to remove the last bits of goo out of your hair, which was surprisingly soft.

You laughed before thanking him and going to collect your things so you could go do whatever tasks Snape had in store for you. Fred watched as you moved your hair behind your ear, and couldn't help but notice how his heart rate picked up.

The next time Fred knew he had fallen for you was much more obvious. You and Fred had become good friends since the potions incident, and he had even let you help with some of his and Georges pranks every once in a while. You three were beginning to get along very nicely.

One night though, Fred and George were up late working on a new type of fire work in the common room, which involved using just the right amount of possibly explosive materials.

This obviously ended badly, sending fireworks flying around the room and causing quite a bit of noise. You probably wouldn’t have noticed if you were asleep, a good bit of soundproofing between the common room and your dorm room, but because you were already awake, having had trouble falling asleep, you heard the sound and assumed the worst, running out of the dorm and down the stairs.

“What's going on?!” You said once you reached the common room, eyes landing on the two boys who were ducked behind one of the couches, and covered in a bit of ash.

“New project” George said smiling looking over to Fred, expecting to join in on his explanation, but Fred was just staring at you. You had run down in a rush and didn’t bother to get changed, so you were still in a tank top and short shorts, causing Fred's brain to pretty much short circuit.

He had always found you attractive, but he had never really seen you in anything accept your robes for classes, so suddenly seeing so much skin was certainly a change.

You didn’t notice Fred's staring, but George certainly did, coming to his brothers rescue and elbowing him, snapping him out of his trance.

“Huh? Oh yes, fireworks, got a bit carried away” Fred said, trying to recover from the seemingly obvious ogling.

“Working with dangerous explosive without me” You said, putting a hand to your chest and putting on a fake sad face “and here I thought we were friends”

“We were planning on inviting you but-” Fred said, suddenly flustered over that he may have hurt your feelings.

“I’m kidding Fred, sheesh what's gotten into you?” You said smiling and shaking your head. “Maybe all that gun power has finally gotten to your head”

“Yeah probably” Fred said, trying to laugh it off.

“Well, I’m off to bed, try to keep it down” You said, before saying goodnight and heading to your room.

“That was painful to watch” George joked, causing Fred to look at him

“How do you mean?” Fred asked

“You’ve got it baaaaad” George said, causing Freds face to heat up before he wacked his younger brother on the shoulder.

“Shut up” Fred said, causing a laugh to erupt from George

After that night George was doing everything in his power to get the two of you together. Leaving the room whenever it was just you three, tripping you so you would fall into Fred, on top of many other things. Sure George thought you two would make a good couple, but to see the flustered look on his brothers face whenever you were near him was enough to keep it going, despite you being completely oblivious to him liking you.

The weekend had finally rolled around, and you and a few friends, including Fred and George, were headed to Hogsmeade to do some shopping and just to have a few hours away from the school grounds.

You were walking with Fred and George, doing some window shopping just as it started to snow.

“Ah shit” You said, looking at the falling particles. You loved the holiday season, but you did not handle cold well. You were already wearing two sweaters and could already feel yourself starting to get cold.

“What's the matter Y/N?” Fred asked, looking down to see you wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Its nothing” you said, trying to seem like it wasn’t a big deal, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out you were cold.

“Speaking of nothing, I need to go get some supplies for some new prototypes, so I’ll leave you to it” George said, quickly parting from the group, but not before sending Fred a quick wink, noticing how George was holding his wand.

“That little” Fred muttered to himself, finally figuring out that George started the snow in the first place.

“What was that?” You said, looking up at Fred, a slight red tint starting to dust over your cheeks as the air got colder. Fred couldn’t help but look a few seconds longer than he should have, thinking about how cute you looked.

“Oh nothing” Fred excused, continuing to walk next you you past the shops. 

After a few more seconds, he noticed your arms wrapping more tightly around yourself, slightly shivering as a particular gust of wind shocked your body with cold. Without thinking, Fred put his arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

You started warming up, his body heat surrounding you almost instantly. You could feel the muscles of his arm underneath the fabric of his sweater as he pulled you even closer to him, causing your face to suddenly heat up. Quidditch practice really had its rewards.

“Is this ok?” Fred asked, noticing your changed expression. you nodded

“Yeah, its actually really nice” you said, wrapping your arm around him as well and leaning your head on his shoulder a bit.

You spent the rest of the day like that, snow falling around the two of you, arms around each other, feeling butterflies swarming your stomach. You had always found the older Weasley twin attractive, but you hadn’t really thought of him romantically until now, and you didn’t completely hate it.

“Warmer yet?” Fred asked, causing you to snap out of your haze.

“Much, thank you” You said, looking at Fred to see a mischievous look on his face. 

“Good” He said, before suddenly plopping a snowball on your head. where had he gotten that?!

“Oh... so this is how its going to be” You said, kneeling down to form your own snowball, picking it up and looking at Fred.

“Now Y/N, lets not get to hasty” He started, before he was dodging a snowball aimed right at his face.

“Get ready to pay Weasley!” you yelled, chasing him, throwing snow balls at each other, laughing the whole time before you suddenly fell flat on your back.

“I cant, I surrender” you said through laughs, trying to catch your breath

“So what you’re saying is that I’m the best snow ball player in the world” Fred said, making you roll your eyes.

“Shut up and help me” You said, holding out your hand for Fred to help you up, but as soon as he grabbed it you pulled him down, causing him to land next to you, causing you both to fall into a fi of laughter.

“That was so evil” Fred said from beside you, after you had both finally composed yourselves.

“Nah you love me” You said, causing Fred to tense a bit beside you at the sudden realization that, he actually might. Before he could say anything tough, you had slapped another snowball to his chest, getting up and running in the opposite direction.

“Race you back!” You said, causing Fred to laugh, before standing and chasing after you, all the while thinking about what the hell he was supposed to do.

The next year you were closer than ever. You had visited each other dozens of times over the summer, and just as you were headed back to school and getting used to the old routine, it was time for the Tri-Wizard tournament. You watched as Fred and George attempted the aging potion, laughing as they both flew back as old men, but also visiting them when they had to go to the hospital wing.

You were in class with Fred, potions once again but this time you two were lab partners. You sat at your desk, talking with Fred about something random when Snape walked in, telling us to open our textbooks and prepare for the lesson.

As you were reading you suddenly felt a piece of paper fall by your hand. You looked at it and then over to Fred, who was already looking at you, nodding to make you open it. you reached for it but before you could open it, the note was snatched out of your hand by Snape.

“No, note passing in class” He said before throwing the note in a trash in the corner.

You looked back at Fred, who glared at Snape as he walked away before bringing his attention back to you. He put his book down and looked to make sure Snape wasn’t looking.

“Do you... want to go to the ball... with me” He mouthed, creating pretending to dance before pointing to himself.

You instantly felt your face heat up. Over the summer your feelings towards Fred had certainly grown, but you didn’t think he would feel the same way about you. You quickly snapped out of your trance though, smiling at Fred and nodding.

“What am I going to do?!” You shouted as you landed face first into your pillow, Angelina and Katie looking at you, rolling their eyes at your dramatics.

“Go to the ball with him you dim whit” Katie said, causing you to glare at her.

“He probably only asked me as a friend anyway” you muttered.

Both Angelina and Katie knew about your crush on Fred. They both also knew Fred had a crush on you, Angelina finding out from George, who was a whole other love story waiting to happen.

“Or... maybe he asked you out because he likes you” Angelina countered.

“I don’t know, I’m just freaking out” You said, sitting up to look at the two girls.

“I have a perfect solution” Katie said, causing both you and Angelina to look at her.

“Y/N, you have a crush on Fred, Angelina, you have a crush on George-”

“I do not-!” Angelina started, before Katie cut her off.

“You do too, now shut it and listen” Katie said. She was pretty close to George and Fred, being on the same quidditch team and all and knew for certain that the twins liked the both of you.

“Angelina, you’re going to go to the ball with George, Y/N with Fred, now if at any point they don't seem interested, you can just ditch and hang out with each other the rest of the ball.” She said, matter of factly.

“That's a stupid plan” You said, earning a pillow to the head.

“It is not! And you wont even need it because they like you you idiots!” Katie said throwing her arms in the air. Literally everyone could see that You and Fred liked each other, except for you two.

“Were doomed” You said, causing both you and Angelina to fall backward onto your beds, Katie rolling her eyes.

Two days later, you were sitting in front of your mirror getting ready for the ball. You had chosen a beautiful blue and silver halter top dress. It hugged your body until it reached your waist when it fanned out a bit. You matched it with some silver shoes that you found comfortable, and had Angelina help you with your hair.

“You look amazing, he’d be stupid not to see that” She said, finishing your hair.

“Says you, you look like a goddess!” you said, looking at her purple dress.

“We all look great now lets go” Katie said impatiently. She had gotten a date from Durmstrang and was excited to say the least. You all shared a laugh before heading out to the ball.

Fred was a nervous wreck waiting at the bottom of the stairs. He was trying not to show it, trying to mask his nerves with his usual goofy attitude but George could see through it.

“You’re going to be fine, chill out already” George said, causing Fred to shoot him a look.

“I’m completely chill! I’m the most chill person in the world, I’m-” Fred’s rambling was cut off when he saw George suddenly looking at the grand staircase behind him. Following his eyes, Fred turned to see Angelina, Katie and you. All he could see was you.

Suddenly all the nerves he had, all the things he practice he was going to say, all the worry, left his head. You were Y/N, you were his best friend, and he couldn’t believe how absolutely head over heels he was for you.

“Good evening sir” You said, doing a little curtsey, causing Fred to smile.

“Madam” He said, doing a deep bow and causing you to laugh. “Shall we” he said, holding out his arm.

“We shall” You said, taking his arm and following him to the ball room.

You spent the whole evening either dancing, or talking when you needed a breather. You would drink punch and people watch, trying to guess what people were saying to each other.

Suddenly the music changed, starting a slow song. You looked at Fred to see he was already looking at you. Wordlessly he held out his hand, causing you to smile while you took it. You walked out to the dance floor and started to sway to the music, suddenly very aware of the feeling of his hand on your waist. 

“You look amazing Y/n” Fred said, leaning down so he could almost whisper it in your ear, causing chills to run down your spine.

“You don’t look to bad yourself” You joked, not wanting to get caught u in the moment and forget that you were only here as friends. Right?

“Can I take you somewhere really fast?” Fred asked. you felt your cheeks heat up at his sincerity but nodded none the less, allowing him to lead you out of the ball room.

He lead you to the outside of the castle. You walked side by side, just taking in the scenery before Fred suddenly stopped, causing you to as well. You had stopped at the bridge, being able to get a full view of the Black lake, the moon reflecting off of it. 

You were too busy looking at the water to notice how Fred was looking at how the moon fell on your face, and made your eyes seem to glow. Or how he felt like he was suddenly seeing you for the first time all over again. Or how badly he wanted to just lean in and-

“Thank you, for asking me to the dance” You said, snapping Fred out of his trance.

“Of course, they ’res nobody id rather go with” He said looking at you, but you refused to meet his eyes.

“I’m sure that's not true. I’m sure there's someone here that you fancy” You said.

Fred looked at you confused. “How do you mean?” He asked.

“George told me that you liked someone... over the summer” You said. Fred mentally face palmed. That idiot! Of course he was talking about you, but Fred guessed George was just trying to get you to confess, which you obviously didn’t.

“Well, yeah... I do like someone” Fred said, an idea coming to mind.

“Oh... well who is she” You said, trying to mask you disappointment.

“Well, she’s in Gryffindor, she’s the absolute funniest person I’ve ever met, she has this smile where you see it and you can’t help but smile yourself, she's able to just walk into class and make the whole room brighter, ya know?” He said, looking down at you, trying to hide the sadness on your face.

“Is it Katie? Because I can talk to her and-” You started

“Oh my god, its you dumbass!” Fred suddenly exclaimed, causing your head to shoot up to meet his eyes.

“Wait, you like me?” You asked, Fred nodding, turning his body and gently grabbing both of your hands, holding them in front of him.

“Yeah, I have since last year” He said. Now it was his turn to not meet your eyes. “I knew I liked you from the moment you turned Snape purple, and ever since I’ve just fallen for every part of you, and I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier, I was just worried that-”

You cut off his rambling, quickly lifting yourself on your tip toes and quickly pressing your lips to his. The kiss lasted less than a second, and you couldn’t read the expression on his face, causing you to panic a bit.

Meanwhile, Fred was wondering if what happened actually happened, or if he suddenly died and went to heaven, he didn’t see your worried expression though.

“I’m sorry, I-” This time Fred cut you off, moving one hand to cup your face while the other went to rest on your hip. You reacted quickly, closing your eyes and moving to wrap your arms to rest around his neck. 

This kiss lasted much longer, the two of you moving in sync as you finally did what he had wanted to do for almost a whole year. After a while you both finally pulled away for air, smiling at each other like idiots.

“I think I might be in love with you” Fred said, causing you to blush

“I think I might be in love with you too” You said, causing you both to laugh a bit before leaning in to reconnect your lips, but not before-

“Its about bloody time!” George shouted, causing the both of you to jump apart, fearing it might have been a teacher, but as soon as you both saw it was only George and Angelina, Fred started fuming while you just laughed.

“No thanks to you, arsehole!” Fred yelled back, causing George to laugh, before you suddenly realized the situation before you.

“Wait what are you two doing out here?” You asked, causing both George and Angelina to stop laughing, a slight tint forming on their faces.

“Well we were just going to... um...” George started, trying to find the words

“We were going to snog” Angelina said bluntly, causing George to look at her with a look of shock on his face, while you and Fred just laughed.

“Well Its about time yourselves then!” You yelled, giving Angelina a quick thumbs up before they left towards the Gryffindor common room.

“How did that not happen sooner, its so obvious they liked each other” You said, shaking your head in mock disappointment.

“completely oblivious, the both of them, couldn’t be us” Fred joked back, making you giggle before reconnecting his lips to yours.

A/N: I'm still in the denial faze of grief because Fred Weasley is my dream man but he doesn't exist, so please feel free to enjoy my coping mechanism :)

[t-lostinworlds]

Not Going Anywhere (Tom Holland)

a/n: finally! lmao. gosh, i haven’t posted a fic in a while and im scared lol. also, i’m sorry for the lack of fics recently, i’ll try and be better with it. anyway, i’m not going to babble any more asdfghjkl hope you guys enjoy this one!

pairing: tom holland x actress!reader warnings: emotional scene, blood (fake), gun shots (kinda fake), character death (very fake lmao), lots of crying, and tom just being a wholesome boyfriend. word count: 7.5k+ requested:

first off, thank you angel! 💓 you’re too sweet omg 🥺 requests are a bit tricky for me ‘cause it depends if i get inspo or not but i did with this one haha so second, i’m so sorry this took soooo long. i hope i did it justice and that you like it love! 

masterlist on bio & pinned post

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It was the last scene of the day but neither you nor Tom were too keen on it. Both of you read the script, of course you knew this was a long time coming. This scene has been sitting in the back of your heads from the moment you both decided to take on the roles but still, it never really does prepare you mentally no matter how much you try.

Death scenes are always tricky to shoot, depending on what the undertone is. It can be a slightly easy one, the death of an enemy in which you'd channel relief, pride, a sense of accomplishment—maybe even in a sadistic, evil sense, happiness and joy. Or it can go around the hard route, the death of someone you love. There are so many ways you could go about it, so many emotions you can tap into. You can have regret, guilt, hurt, sadness, anger, fear, loss, and the list goes on.

It would've been easier to act it out with a regular colleague or a friend, easier to separate from reality and to snap out of it when they call cut. It'd be less daunting if that was the case. But when it's done with someone who you love off screen, a person who you can't ever imagine a world without, to get your mind to a place where you'd have to picture losing them, then it gets even trickier, much, much harder.

Couples don't usually do movies together that often, it can become unprofessional as some would say, but that wasn't the case with you and Tom. Both of you have been praised so many times with your individual works as you two can stand alone and carry a role with nothing but award winning performances. But whenever you two share a screen together, then it's an even bigger force to be reckoned with.

It's always a director's dream to work with you individually and as a pair. You were a match made in heaven off and on screen, the one-take-wonder duo. You two just bounce off each other so well no matter the roles you play, may it be enemies, acquaintances, lovers, past lovers, co-workers, and so on. You two share a look and it all clicks, then everything just falls into place.

You two get it done right away in the right way.

You love working with Tom, love seeing him do his thing in the flesh and you enjoy watching all the breathtaking and raw performance he gives. Plus, you get to spend time with your man, a gift with how conflicting your schedules can get sometimes. Not to mention, you get to do what you love together, a fun time on set as you make the most out of it while staying at the top of your game, be each other's cheerleader while maintaining proper professionalism.

But when it's heavy and emotional scenes like this upcoming one, you do find yourself wishing that it wasn't with him.

"How do I look? Still gorgeous I hope," Tom joked the moment you entered the set, posing over dramatically with one hand on his head, the other on his jutted out hip and a duck face to match, sporting his dirt—with specks of blood—covered and torn outfit. What he wore was a white shirt, black pants, black boots and a gray coat combo. While you on the other hand, wore dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt, a gray zip up hoodie that was fully open and a black leather jacket over it.

On a normal day, his silliness would've made you roll your eyes with a laugh, but today, it didn't even manage to make you crack a smile. In fact, a frown made its way onto your lips at the sight of him all dirtied up, a purple bruise under his left eye, a couple gashes on his cheek and a cut on his bottom lip to complete his beat-up look.

"Stop trying to ruin my Zen," you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest with a pout on your lips. It was already dark inside your mind, emotions at the ready for when they call action. And seeing him be his dorky self, trying his best to make you laugh, just being the sweet boy who owns your heart, it wasn't at all helpful in a sense that with what's coming, it makes you think what life would be like if those adorable traits of his would become a memo—

"I'm not," Tom chuckled softly as he slowly made his way over to you. Once he reached a close proximity, his warm palm found its way to rest on your cheek. His touch was gentle, thumb caressing your skin comfortingly, a loving smile making its way onto his lip as he kept his gaze steady on your troubled face. "Just making sure you don't get too into your head, darling."

Tom's eyes held nothing but utter concern because he knows you like the back of his hand, knows how you work. With actors, it's always taxing mentally and emotionally when it comes to scenes like this, but with you, there's an added weight. Because, one, you always go that extra mile, to dig much deeper into your thoughts, to make your brain work harder at channeling emotions on command and in a quick switch. That's what made you known to be such an incredible actress, pure talent mixed with hard work of course.

And two, you were doing the scene with him, your real life lover. For you to see his face and watch him slowly wither away, Tom can't even stomach the thought of what you could possibly be feeling, what kind of thoughts were swimming inside your head. He can't even begin to imagine if it was the other way around. He absolutely admires your strength for holding it together because if it was him, he would've already been balling before he could even get out of his trailer.

With that said, Tom was worried to the bone. It always pains him to see the struggle you go through to get your mind there. He hates seeing you in a state that wasn't pure happiness, even if it was all acting.

"It's really hard not to," you whispered, flashing him a small smile as you leaned into his touch. Tom's heart broke at the soft shake in your voice, a sigh coming out of his lips as he moved closer to press it against your forehead. His strong arms found their way around your form to give you the warmest hug he can muster without getting all the dirt and the little bit of fake blood he had on him, on you.

"I know, angel, I know," he whispered against your skin, giving your waist a gentle and loving squeeze that made you close your eyes with a shaky breath.

Tom has had a fair share of tough, emotional scenes, of course he understood. Some of them were even done with you, though none were as tragic and heavy as to what lies ahead.

He knows how hard it is to not let those dark thoughts cloud most of your mind. He's been guilty of failing at it a couple of times. Some scenes just affected him in real life before he could stop it. Tom so badly didn't want you to experience the same. He doesn't want you to go far too deep for the sake of your mental state, especially with how much worse this scene is going to be compared to previous stuff you've done. But there's not much he can do other than to be there for you to help you get through it and to make sure to snap you out of it before it gets way out of hand.

"You two ready to go?" Jessica, the director, interrupted with a sympathetic smile. You unwillingly broke away from Tom's embrace to give her a small nod.

"Don't think I'll ever be ready but let's get this over and done with," you breathed out. She watched the two of you for a moment, the gloominess in the atmosphere too obvious for anyone to miss. It's always like that with emotional scenes, the set catered to help the actors be in the zone, but it's a lot heavier this time around. When it's a real life couple, the difference is huge.

With a soft, understanding smile, she reached over to you and gave your shoulder a squeeze. "Two more minutes and then we start." Jessica nodded at the both of you curtly. You and Tom flashed her grateful smiles to which she gladly returned.

Once she walked away, Tom's gaze landed back on you, slight dread and concern glowing in his eyes but a reassuring grin played on his lips. He was trying his best to stay calm about it, even though he wasn't looking forward to it as well. He just didn't want to add more to your already worrying mind by looking too frantic with his concern.

"Come here and give me one last kiss."

"Don't say it like that," you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as his choice of words weren't exactly the best.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that, darling," Tom rushed once he realized how it sounded like, rubbing your arms comfortingly and giving it a gentle squeeze, silently urging you to look at him. Once you opened your eyes and met his gaze again, he tilted his head to the side with an adorable pout. "Can I have a kiss? Pwetty please?"

You shook your head at your man with a sigh, the corners of your lips lifting just a little as you met him halfway for a short but sweet, loving kiss.

"You've got this, okay?" he whispered once you pulled away, his breath hot against your lips as the tip of his nose nudged yours tenderly. You flashed him a small yet thankful smile, nodding in response before leaning close again to give him a quick peck.

"Places you two!" Jessica called out.

Tom's hands found yours, his fingers delicate as he lifted them up to his lips, a kiss on each of your knuckles and another reassuring squeeze before he lets you go.

You treaded your way towards your first marker, Tom's just a couple feet behind you. You looked over your shoulder in hopes to find his eyes before everything starts, a wash of relief coating your body once you saw that it was already set on you. You two shared a look, Tom flashing you one of his many charming grins—one that you adore so much—in reassurance, throwing in a thumbs up as he put his right foot forward. You did just the same, only breaking his gaze when you felt someone tap you on the shoulder.

You turned to one of the crew who handed you a Glock filled with blanks, a soft thanks escaping your lips followed by a deep intake of breath. You closed your eyes before exhaling slowly, clenching and unclenching your fist around the gun as you slowly slipped into character.

The two of you were undercover agents, partners turned recent lovers to be specific. The start of the scene was that you've just managed to get Tom out from his unfortunate capture, the abandoned warehouse where he was kept and you just escaped from, situated behind. You've managed to take out all the guys in the warehouse together but you have no idea if someone had called in backup so it was needed and safer to get as far away from the place as soon as possible. Hence why you two are going to be running from point A to B. But once you reach point B, then the scene happens.

"Ready and action!"

You took on a sprint, chest heaving as you kept looking back to make sure Tom was following. He was running just loosely behind you, a slight limp in his movements given that he isn't in the best of conditions due to the kidnapping.

"Come on!" You slowed down a little to wait for him, offering out a hand for him to take. He was so close to reaching it when his gaze shifted from your hand to somewhere behind you, eyes widening at the sight.

"Look out!" Tom exclaimed, hand quick to grab your outstretched one to pull you into his body. Both his arms wrapped around you tightly as he turned around in one swift motion so that your places were now switched. Then you heard five deafening gun shots, Tom's body jerking the same number of times before he slowly leaned forwards, his body getting heavier as his weight slowly rested more on you.

"No!" you shrieked, one hand wrapping around his torso as you lifted the other one hurriedly to aim your gun at the armed person behind him, pulling the trigger a couple of times to let loose of the blanks. You heard a thud next, an indication that the person has been taken care of.

Tom's whole body slumped, you struggling to hold his weight as he gradually slipped from your grasp, your heart beating rapidly against your chest when you felt something damp coat your fingers that were rested on his back. Your gaze landed on his face with wide eyes, calling out his character's name a few times as you tried your best to let him down on the pavement as gently as you can manage.

Tears welled up in your orbs, your throat closing up as you kneeled beside his body, anxiously checking to see what was wrong even though you already knew that everything was wrong. You took off your jacket hurriedly, bunching it up and placing it under his head for support. A sharp pain squeezed at your heart at the sight of him struggling to breathe, coughing out blood while he willed his eyes to stay open, his white shirt slowly turning crimson.

"No, no, no," you croaked, letting go of the gun to cup his face, fingers trembling as you tried to keep his head steady. Frantically, you reached into your pocket with your free, blood-covered, shaking hand, taking out the phone and hastily dialed zero to send out a distress signal.

Tom lets out a groan laced with pain as his eyes scanned your face, muttering out your character's name to get your attention, voice barely audible.

"Yeah, I'm here, I'm right here," you whispered as you met his brown orbs, a soft smile on your lips as you dropped the phone so you can tend to him with both hands. You brushed away the hair that managed to stick on his sweat-littered forehead, his blood from your hand tainting his crown, not the best of sights to see.

Tom's eyes started to gloss up as he kept letting out ragged breaths. You let out a broken sob as the heartrending sound filled up your ears, squeezing agonizingly at each vein in your heart. "S-Stay with me, please," you stammered, his skin turning a bit colder against your warm palm, your breathing turning shallow as you struggled to keep your own self together.

"Help! Please help!" you wailed, looking around the empty place frantically before your gaze landed back on the man in your arms, life slowly slipping from his grasp. "You're going to be okay," you repeated over and over, unsure if the words were said to reassure him or yourself.

The feeling of your jeans getting wet at the knees from the blood that pooled on the ground made you let out a broken cry of despair, eyes scanning his body for only a moment, the sight of red making you want to hurl. And you were too scared to look away from his eyes for far too long, scared that things will take a drastic turn in a split second.

Slowly, weakly, Tom lifted a hand up to cup your damp cheek, thumb caressing your skin as a small, tired smile made its way onto his lips. This made you cry even harder, your nimble fingers curling around his wrist, turning your head slightly for a second to give his palm a warm kiss.

"R-Remember when I-I said I'd t-take a bullet for y-you?" he sputtered, though the smile on his lips was still there, charming as always, his thumb capturing the tear that escaped your eye before it could have the chance to land on your skin.

You bit your bottom lip to suppress a whimper, shaking your head at his ability to make light of the situation. You let out a shaky breath. "I do, I remember. To prove how much I mean to you even when it's not necessary."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, running his thumb over your cheek, a few tears escaping his eyes as he scanned your gorgeous face distorted in utter distress, as he stared at the pain that glowed inside your beautiful orbs.

"N-No, there's nothing to apologize," you breathed out, your thumb grazing the apples of his cheeks as you stared right into those brown eyes you've grown to adore and more. "You saved me," you sobbed, flashing him a small smile laced with gratitude. "You saved me."

Tom nodded slowly with a hum, eyes staring right back at yours with the utmost adoration coating them, although in a few short seconds, it was quick to be replaced by worry. "You n-need to g-go," he hissed in pain, his hand grabbing your wrist to try and pry you away from him. It still wasn't safe to stay and he wanted nothing more than for you to be as far from harm, well and alive.

"No! I'm not leaving you here," you protested, a sob tied at the end of your sentence as you took his hand and placed it back on your cheek. And he held it there, channeling all the strength he had left for him to feel your skin for a couple moments more. "Help is on the way just, s-stay with me," you croaked.

Tom's breathing started to turn labored, his head falling back gradually as there was not much strength left for him to keep it still. "Hey! h-hey, look at me," you rushed, command in your tone as you went to hold his face with both hands, keeping his head steady only to see that his eyes were slowly fluttering close. "Keep those eyes open! Keep those eyes open," you said through gritted teeth, your man listening to your voice that was filled with desperation as he met your gaze again.

"P-Promise me—" Tom interrupted himself with a cough of blood, letting out a soft groan before his eyes were back on yours. "Promise me, y-you'll find h-happiness."

"N-no, don't say that, you're going to be okay." You shook your head desperately with a whimper.

"Promise me," he repeated, voice firmer this time.

Your bottom lip trembled. "I promise, just h-hold on, p-please," you choked. "Somebody! Please h-help! Please!" you yelled at the top of your lungs, urgently looking towards nothing, a sob following suit as your voice broke, hope slowly leaving you.

"H-hey, sweetheart, l-look at me," Tom called out as he tapped your cheek weakly. A whimper escaped your lips as you met his gaze once again, the emotion that shined in them so clear as day. He knows that it was time, and the certain look he was giving you made you understood. Although, you still shook your head in pure denial, muttering protests after protests under your breath as you gave his hand that rested on your cheek a tight squeeze while you kept the other steady on his face, horrified to let go even for a split second for he might be gone when you do.

"I love you," Tom breathed out, voice soft but the truth loud and clear. It was the first time he had uttered those three words, and you so wished it was done in a much, much more different circumstance. You leaned down to swiftly capture his lips in a bitter-sweet kiss, a sigh coming out of him only to be mirrored by a soft cry from you.

"I love you too, oh so much," you whispered to no one but him and him only, pulling away to meet his eyes, a certain glow now coating them at the sound of those lovely words filling up his ears. A satisfied smile made its way onto Tom's lips, his eyes locked with yours, glowing with utmost love.

But as Tom took in one deep, sharp breath, you held yours, only letting it out in a form of an excruciating sob once he completely stilled in your arms. His hand slowly slipped away from your face until it fell limp on his side, his chest laying flat, no more sign of any movement.

"No, no, no," you cried, tapping his cheek to get him to move again but to no avail. You shook your head frantically, your tears blurring your vision some more, heart in your throat as the droplets coated his face at a faster pace. "No! P-Please!" you screamed, cupping his face with trembling hands, letting go for a moment to hold his shoulder, shaking him harder in utter anguish. "C-Come back! P-Please! Come back to m-me." Your fingers found its way back to rest on his cheeks as you choked in short breaths, his eyes wide open but already dimmed, those bright, brown beautiful eyes somewhat turned gray.

"Don't leave me please," You croaked out, voice now hoarse from all the crying you've done. "I can't live without you. Please, come back to me," you whispered one last time, taking a few seconds more to stare at his face, looking at him as a flicker of hope coated your eyes for a split second before it completely died out. You dropped your head onto his chest and let out deep, broken sobs, choking in sharp breaths in between each sound that only made things more heart wrenching to hear.

It was so hard for Tom to keep his own tears at bay, a stinging, horrible feeling gripping at his chest as you cried your heart out. To watch the absolute hurt across your beautiful features, the desperation on trying to "bring him back" was too much of a painful sight to see. If he had a choice he would've opted on closing his eyes, but Jessica had specific instructions to keep them open, to make it more realistic, more effective in a sense that it would pull at the viewer's heartstrings a bit more.

But my God it was so hard to watch you be in so much pain and lay completely still, the heartbreaking sound of your sobs, the way you begged, it was absolute torture, especially when he can't do anything about it just yet. And the way your touch was frantic, desperate, it was hurting his heart harshly, agonizingly and he so badly wanted it to end because he can't take any more of just watching you go through so much pain. But most especially, he wanted it to end for your sake.

At the sound of your own cries, lungs burning with your head pounding, ears ringing, chest too tight and filled with utmost pain, you didn't even notice Jessica call out cut. The moment you knew it was all done was when you felt strong arms wrapping around your form that was still shaking with sobs.

"Hey, hey it's okay, it's over darling," Tom rushed as he sat up quickly, prying you away gently so you could meet his eyes. It broke his heart to pieces when he saw the hurt that still coated your orbs, though he was glad to see the relief slowly seeping back in once you blinked away the tears. You finally snapped out of it once you were able to take a good look at him, your bottom lip trembling as you tilted your head to the side, as if to examine if he was actually real. "I'm okay, see?" Tom hummed, voice gentle as he took both your hands and placed one on each of his cheeks, his skin warm against your touch. "I'm here my love."

All you could do was nod with a breath of relief, body falling forwards so you could sink into his arms, not a care in the world about the fake blood that drenched him. You just needed to be close to him.

Tom sighed as he pulled you tighter in his embrace, pressing his warm lip against your crown in the process. "Breath my darling angel, it's over," he murmured, followed by sweet nothings as his hand ran up and down your back comfortingly, your breathing slowly growing calmer at the tender sound of his voice.

You stayed like that on the ground for a minute, Tom only pulling away slightly when he heard footsteps approaching. "Do we need another take?" he asked dreadfully as he saw Jessica make her way over. He desperately didn't want you to go through that all again but it was out of his control. And if another take was needed, he's going to have to ask for an hour break, for your sake.

You lifted your head up just in time to see Jessica shake her head no, gesturing towards the both of you as satisfaction coated her face. "It's already the best for me. I mean, they call you two the one-take-wonder duo for a reason. And I've got tears in the crews' eyes to further prove my point." With a knowing look, she added, "But you two can watch it back if you like."

Tom turned to you, hand going up to wipe the couple more tears that littered your skin, touch sweet and reassuring. "Do you want to?" he asked softly.

You gave out a small nod. "Yeah, maybe I can do things better," you sniffled.

Tom scoffed loudly at that, gawking at you with wide eyes, taking full offence of your own words for you. "Are you kidding me? That was already amazing," he stressed. "Quit being so overly critical of yourself, darling," he added, taking both your hands in his comfortingly.

"Thank you bubba," you whispered, looking at him with an adorable pout, eyes glowing with the utmost gratitude that Tom felt his heart melt ten times over, especially with the nickname.

He flashed you a bright smile. "Now, let's get you off this wet floor." And that he did as he helped you up, pulling you in for another warm hug once you've got your feet under you.

Crew members quickly crowded you both as they helped you out of the now wet hoodie and coat, giving you each some water and two big, black warm jackets to compensate for the cold. You and Tom then made your way over to the director's chair right after.

You now stood beside Tom in front of the monitor as they started to play the clip back. Both your arms were fully wrapped around him, cheek pressed up against his chest as he slung his arm over your shoulder. His heart was turning soft at how adorable you were being, although he felt a sense of worry as well, since it seemed like you were scared to be too far away from him.

Even when they were fussing around the two of you, he saw how you kept giving him a glance, like you were scared to let him out of your sight. And once they were done, you were quick to grab his hand, as if you didn't want to feel the absence of his touch for far too long. So, he made sure to keep you as close as he can, giving you random kisses and squeezes in comfort from time to time, to reassure your mind that he was, in fact, here.

"Whew, look at you go," Tom praised, staring in pure awe at the monitor as he rewatched your performance, giving your arm a loving squeeze with a kiss on the forehead to match. "You make me look so talentless, love."

"Shut up," you said in pure disagreement given that his performance was breathtaking just as always. He did make things more real, made it hurt even more the way he portrayed dying so well. Your own performance improved because of his. As said in the beginning, you two just bounce off each other so well.

You peeked at the monitor for only short moments as you can't bear to watch it back fully, snuggling into him every once in a while with your eyes fluttering close. Tom was quick to notice this, giving you another peck on the forehead to remind you that it was okay, that things were alright. You hummed at his sweet gesture, squeezing his torso lovingly in return.

"Damn," Tom gushed once the clip ended, wiping away the stray tear that slipped with the back of his hand before turning to you with nothing but utter pride in his eyes. "And the Oscar goes to..."

"Stop," you whined, burying your face on his chest shyly, prompting a hearty chuckle from him.

"One-take-wonder duo I tell you," Jessica admired, giving you both claps on the back before she lifted up her megaphone. "That's a wrap everyone!"

Loud cheers and applause filled the air, Tom giving you a tight, warm hug as you both slowly relaxed in each other's embrace, glad that the day was almost over. You then made your way to where your teams were sat. Both of you were quick to notice how most of them were smiling proudly at the two of you with a bit of shine in their eyes.

"Harry," Tom gasped as soon as his brother came into view, Harry's face red with a faint sniffle coming out of him. "Were you crying?"

"No," the young lad grumbled, turning away in hopes to hide the way he wiped his face but still failing miserably.

"Oh Harry come here," Tom lets go of you for a moment to tackle his brother in a bear hug, making smooching noises as the older sibling tried to give the other a kiss on the cheek, Harry squirming like his life depended on it. You couldn't help the soft laugh from escaping your lips at the sight of the two boys, Tom's head perking up at the sound, a bit of relief coating his features as he tilted his head at you with a smile of his own.

"Get off you div," Harry groaned, pushing Tom away playfully, the older lad laughing before pulling away from him. "It's not my fault you two made it look so real. I genuinely thought Tom died for a second."

"Aw, thanks bro—"

"Correction, Y/N made it so real. The moment you started crying," Harry paused, blowing out his cheeks with a shake of his head, turning to you with both hands up in surrender. "I went."

"Thank you Harry." You shot the young lad a tired but grateful smile, giving him a quick but lovely hug.

"I'll let that pass for now because I do agree," Tom said, shooting his brother a playful glare before he made his way back to you, arms taking home around your waist as he looked at you adoringly. "You were incredible my love."

You smiled at him, leaning closer so you could give him a sweet kiss, just to show more of your gratitude. Tom hummed in pure satisfaction against your lips, giving your waist a tender squeeze before pulling away.

"Let's wrap up the day shall we?"

With that, the two of you made your way over to the wardrobe trailers to get out of the dirty work clothes and into comfier ones. Once out of the trailer, you now wore a pair of black leggings and Tom's pink hoodie to which he insisted on letting you wear over your tank top, given that it was starting to get colder out. He, on the other hand, wore his black sweatpants and a tight maroon t-shirt, handsome as ever but the make up on his face—the bruises, cuts, fake blood—were a bit of a distraction, feeding more thoughts to your still troubled mind.

"Come here, love." Tom beckoned you over once he noticed how you stared at him with a certain look in your eyes and a matching frown. His warm hands found yours, pulling you closer to him so he can give you loving kisses all over your face, all sloppy, loud and sweet. He only stopped when he was satisfied with the little giggles that escaped your lips. "Stop thinking too much, darling."

You flashed him a smile, nodding to say that you understood. "Are you not cold?" you asked in concern, slight guilt swimming in your orbs given that you somewhat stole his hoodie. Tom chuckled with a shake of his head, slinging his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to his side as you then made your way to the make-up trailers.

"As long you're here beside me? My human heater? Never."

***

It was finally time to get back to the hotel.

You and Tom sat at the very back of the van, your head rested on his shoulder while his head rested atop of yours. You've been nothing but silent the whole ride, Tom not pestering you much because he knows you were drained to the bone. He just gave you occasional squeezes on the thigh, his fingers sometimes drumming some random beat just to distract you a little for what was going on inside your mind.

The moment your shared hotel room door closed, lock clicking in the process, Tom dropped your bags on the floor with the loudest sigh of relief.

"Shower together?" Tom offered with a wriggle of his brows, jokingly of course as there was no malice in his intent. You both were too tired for it, a simple shower would suffice.

A sweet smile made its way onto your lips as you nodded, taking up on his offer.

Tom moved over to you to give you a short kiss, mumbling a 'wait here' against your lips before pulling away and disappearing into the bathroom. He came back out not long after sporting nothing but his black boxers, beckoning you over with an open palm to which you gladly took. Hot steam met your skin as you stepped inside the en suite, Tom stopping by the sink as he turned to face you.

"Arms up," he said, your brows furrowing in confusion but you did as told anyway. Once you have both hands in the air, Tom took hold of the hem of your—his—hoodie and lifted it up your body, a pout making its way onto your lips once it was off. He gave your jutted out lip a peck, chuckling at the slight confusion on your face before he went to take your tank top off next.

"I'm not a baby anymore Tom. And I didn't lose any limbs," you pointed out with a soft giggle, top-half now naked in front of him

"Says who? As far as I know, you're still my baby." He shrugged, hooking his fingers on the hem of your leggings and pulling them down—along with your underwear—until he was squatted on the floor. He tapped your thigh lightly, silently telling you to lift each leg up one by one so he can take off the fabric fully. Now, you were left completely bare for him. You looked down at your man and shot him a pointed look, Tom meeting your gaze through his eyelashes as he lets out a sweet chuckle.

"Just let me take care of you love, you've had a long day," he hummed, giving each of your thighs a chaste kiss before he stood back up to his full height. He just wanted to let other things occupy your mind instead, didn't want you to sit too long and think about the scene you just did. Plus, he really did want to just take care of you, to show you the utmost love and affection as you deserve nothing but all and more, especially after today.

Another sweet kiss landed on your lips before he got rid of his boxers next, taking your hand soon after as he guided you inside the glass shower box, pulling you right under the hot water. And take care of you was exactly what he did as he helped you wash up as well. You've told him a couple of times how he was being a bit much, especially when he stole the loofa off your hands to do it himself, shampooed and conditioned your hair. But he simply repeated the same thing over and over:

"Just let me take care of you."

A few more giggles and chuckles with a couple sprinkles of making-out later, you two got out of the shower and dried up. Then after that, Tom gave you one of his shirts to wear—paired with only your panties—and helped you blow dry your hair so you could take a quick nap, an easy breezy task for him since it was not the first time. He's done it before on various occasions.

Once you were soundlessly asleep—after a few more kisses from him as he tucked you in because yes, your boyfriend is extra—Tom took it upon himself to order in some food, that way you'd have something to eat when you wake up, knowing that you probably wouldn't want to go anywhere to have a meal. He sent Harry a text in the process saying that the two of you would be staying in for the night in case the team wanted to go out for dinner.

In his gray sweats and white t-shirt, Tom sat down on the couch right by the window near your side of the bed, pulling out his computer to get a bit of work done while he waits. He didn't want to risk waking you up by slipping in beside you, didn't want to disturb your blissful sleep.

He kept giving you glances from time to time, just to check up on you, his heart growing bigger whenever he does so. Warmth just spreads across his chest each time he sees your beautiful face with nothing but slumber and peace coating your features.

The food arrived about thirty minutes later, Tom setting his laptop down to open the door, room service strolling in with fresh and hot food. He closed the door after he tipped the guy generously, walking over to the table to take some chips off the plate, humming at the wonderful taste.

Opting on letting you sleep for a couple minutes more, Tom went back over to the couch. But just as he was about to sit back down, he heard you let out a troubled groan in your sleep. Surely enough when his gaze landed on you, your face was now contorted in pure distress, brows knitted together as you shifted on the bed, one hand desperately clinging on the pillow while the other on the white sheets.

"Tom!" you yelped and bolted straight up, eyes frantic and chest heaving as you looked around the room for him.

"Hey! Hey." Tom was by your side in an instant, the bed dipping as he sat down, his hands cupping your face gently to make you look at him straight in the eyes. "Darling, hi, I'm here," he whispered with a sweet smile, heart aching at the sight of fear and the fresh sets of tears that now coated your eyes.

Your bottom lip trembled as you stared at him for a couple seconds, moving closer towards him so you could bury yourself in his arms. "I'm sorry," you mumbled against his chest, both your arms wrapping around his torso as you let out uneven, shaky breaths.

"Nothing to apologise for angel. It was just a nightmare," he murmured, rubbing your back sweetly as he swayed you side to side. "It's okay, you're okay." He held you like that for as long as you needed, whispering sweet nothings into your ear in hopes that it'll help you calm down. Tom only loosened his hold around when you softly pulled away, breathing now calmer, sniffling close to none.

"Want to watch a movie while we eat? The chips are really good," he said, both hands now holding your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks tenderly as he wiped away the little tears that sat on your skin. "Spider-Man: Far From Home so we can nitpick and criticize my performance together?" he added jokingly, earning a soft giggle from you as you nodded.

With half of the food gone, you were well into fifteen minutes of the movie. There were a couple of pauses done of course. Now you were snuggled up cozily beside him, your head on his chest as he rested his back against the stacked pillows. He had one arm over your shoulder to keep you close, fingers grazing up and down your arm soothingly while his eyes were set on the screen in front, his warmth comforting you in more ways than one.

The whole pole sequence in Venice was when he felt you start to shift in his arms, a shaky breath coming out of you when you saw him hit that wall as he got drenched in water. And then you spoke,

"Tom, what if—"

"Stop it right now and don't even finish your sentence," he scolded, already knowing where you were going with this. You pulled away from his embrace and sat up straighter just so you could have a full look at him, a deep frown already on your lips.

"You do your own stunts," was all that you said, but Tom already knew what you meant by it, didn't need you to explain further.

With a sigh, he sat up as well, touch tender as he ran it up and down your arms. "Darling, I am being careful with the stunts, you know that. And when it's something too dangerous, you also know that I refuse to do it," he said. "Plus, you're right there to stop me when I'm pushing myself too hard. You're looking out for me too, my love."

Even though you gave him a nod, Tom saw how that still didn't ease your mind, saw it clear in your eyes. He couldn't blame you either knowing how that scene made you think the worse of thoughts. He understood you completely, knowing that if the roles were switched, he would be behaving just the same if not much worse with how overprotective he is of you. He'd probably wrap you in a bubble to be honest, to make sure you're as far away from harm as possible and that nothing was going to happen to you.

"Come here," he hummed, taking your hands and pulling you close until you were straddling his lap, giving your fingers warm kisses before he placed them, flat against his cheeks. Tom's warm palms found their way under his shirt that you wore, settling his hands right on your waist, his thumb running over the swell of your belly fondly, skin touching skin, makes you feel much closer to him.

Tom gaped up at you with nothing but absolute love in his eyes, a glow that's made your heart grow warmer, a look that's added more sincerity to his words. "Nothing's going to happen to me okay? You're going to be stuck with this very handsome face for a long, long time."

You giggled at that, dipping your head so you could capture his lips in a kiss filled with the rawest of emotions from gratitude, happiness, adoration, passion, love. Tom didn't need words for him to know that you were thankful for him, that you were so happy to have him in your life, he can already feel it. Your actions will always speak louder volumes, justifying all the emotions you needed to get across that simple words never could.

With a satisfied groan, Tom pulled you even closer, his hands snaking up your bare back, your shirt hiking up at his action. He felt up your warm skin deliberately, touch driven with passion as he nibbled on your bottom lip, wanting to taste more of you. You happily obliged with a soft moan, your fingers treading through his slightly damp curls as you welcomed him in. And Tom made his presence known through his touch, to remind you that he is here with you, that he will always be here, and that he is—

"Not going anywhere."

-:-:-:-:-

like, reblog & leave a comment if you liked it and tell me your thoughts <3

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[yandere-sins]

The Exception

My friend let me try playing Hades on her switch and well... I kinda liked it. Namely, I liked all the characters, so my brain went like “what if they were yandere” and I had an idea for this story that I threw together this morning before working on the Fox Wedding (: The latter isn’t done yet, but this sure is, so who knows, mayhaps some of you will enjoy it! Just tried to answer the question how we could get Thanatos to whisk us away.

Characters: Yandere!Thanatos x Reader Warnings: Yandere, Blood, War, Wounds/Impaling, Major Character Death (???) or well dying, I read into greek history for almost an hour but if I gotten something wrong then so be it

Thanatos had seen enough of the world to know that he didn't want to stay on the surface forever. 

The current battle spreading before him was a mere reason to sigh deeply as he watched bodies fall left and right, their souls soon leaving to a better, or perhaps worse, place. It was mandatory he stayed, but Thanatos was well aware of which side was winning and which was losing. It was his duty and his work to know these things, even though it didn't make the fighting any less futile in his eyes.

Letting his gaze wander over the battlefield, he watched the red splatters on the ground, heard the crushing sounds of iron against iron and the cacophony of fearful and devastating screams. He still couldn't believe Zagreus would want to come to such a place. A place where there was futile fighting and too much light, but perhaps, it was a world that fit the Prince of the Underworld, as he was the same, even if Thanatos only recognized this fact bitterly. 

Finally, the battle was closing in on its end, just like the hundreds of people that found their death because of it. The ones who weren't dead yet slowly but surely started to hesitate and retreat. Even as the personification of death, Thanatos reckoned that a pointless death was scary, even though so many humans chose it over desertion. Their death was inevitable, preordained by Thanatos sisters. Still, he had seen many hold on to the last sparks of hope that they could escape Thanatos' grasp. 

And then, on the other side of the coin, were those that practically would have offered their life to Hades and fought to the end.

You weren't an exception. Yes, your quest and pride were your downfall, and by the gleam in your eyes Thanatos could tell you knew. You knew and recognized that you'd die. However, as if you were spiting him personally, you still continued to fight ahead of everyone else, gaining questioning glances from your comrades and contempt from your enemies, which you pulled to the ground one after another and sending them to hell. 

Many before you had this overzealous compulsion to make that best out of their inevitable demise. Thanatos would admit that yes, most had a good reason for it, like saving their family or fighting for their own life. Others simply lucked out on the gift of pride and ignorance, forcing themselves and occasionally many more lives with them into the deep, dark pits of death. 

What was your reason? Thanatos wondered. 

He still had time before he needed to take action, he could allow himself a short - minuscule, really - different thought than his upcoming work, and you presented yourself so nicely to him as the incarnation of death waited for the end of today's battle. It wasn't often that he had the leisure to let his thoughts wander, so Thanatos intended to use these few seconds, which would fall under the radar, to still his curiosity.

By the looks of it, you weren't an inexperienced fighter. Or perhaps, you were just a farmer judging by your muscles. Surely, you seemed enthusiastic about your task, so were you fighting for something more significant than the glory of your country? Family? A loved one? Thanatos couldn't help but be curious about what your drive was, as he had seen so many reasons, yet they were all the same. Perhaps, yours was new?

Even so, you were graceful as you swung your sword around. What did he know about footwork, but at least, yours seemed to pay off as you weren't dead yet. When one of your foes managed to smack off your helmet, Thanatos believed that was it, but alas, you regained your strength, charging at the very same attacker. 

In a way, fighting was like an elaborate play. The only difference was that neither of the parties knew the other one's move. The person reacting better was the winner. He couldn't find joy in watching wars, but even Thanatos had to admit that it was a joy watching you. Even if you lacked the enthusiasm as the heroic shades that lingered below, like Theseus, had, you fought a fight worth mentioning in the books as well. 

Every move you made, Thanatos could see the calculations in your eyes, that keen shine reflecting in them. The sun seemed to break through the clouds just to reach out to you, making your armor sparkle in its rays. Yes, you were a formidable human, and Thanatos caught himself thinking that it was a shame you were fighting even if you looked so beautifully while doing it. 

Taking another deep breath, he could see the swirls in the air left by it. While the winter wasn't affecting him, no matter how little clothes he wore, Thanatos felt a second of pitiful understanding for everyone who had to fight in those conditions. Undoubtedly, the cold armors, freezing hands and weapons, and frozen ground were another nemesis for every soldier out here. Even if their bodies stayed warm from adrenaline and running, it certainly was another reason many of your human bodies gave out quicker, merely submitting to their fate. It was fair enough for Thanatos. It meant his work was over faster, and judging by you being circled and the other soldiers at your side beginning to see the end coming towards them with long spears and sharp swords, it was all over soon. 

You had fought bravely, that much he could give you. Perhaps you had impressed him enough to put in an unusual good word for you with Hypnos, who'd pass it on to Hades himself, granting you a shot on being put into Elysium. But your fate had long been decided, and as you fell to the ground, the battlefield erupted in victorious screams, announcing your time of death. 

And also, his start of work. 

As the winners retreated one after one, happy whenever they found a friend that survived too, Thanatos passed by them and onto the battlefield instead. Unseen by the human eye, he began his duty of reaping, one soul after the other, as mangled and frustrated over their death as they were, following his orders as he shushed them away. Usually, some pleaded and bargained with him for another shot of life, but even if Thanatos had wanted, there was no way for him to help them. But that day, everyone seemed awfully aware that there was no negotiating nor mercy waiting for them as they looked at his figure, frightened and frustrated. A pointless battle, with meaningless deaths, brought forth the self-pity in them, but this wasn't the first battle Thanatos tended to, so he felt nothing akin to that. It also wasn't his duty to take care of the souls gathered here, as it was Hermes' job to lead to them. 

He had something very different on his agenda. You. 

It was unfortunate for both of you, but when he reached you, you had yet to breathe your last breath. One eye slowly and in pain, opened, the other one damaged from the blow to the head you had received. However, as you looked at him, serene clarity laid in your gaze, and you recognized him, mayhaps by the giant scythe he carried around. Your stare was clear and less afraid than he expected you to be when acknowledging him, but you closed your eyes as a cough overcame you, hot, red blood dripping down your lips. 

"Guess that's it," you croaked, and Thanatos could only stare. Conversing… wasn't his strong suit, and there wasn't exactly a reason to talk to you.

"Are you going to kill me?" you continued, undeterred by his silence, and Thanatos weighed his actions. "No, of course not," he eventually spoke, shaking his head slowly, the hood on his head shifting along to his movement. 

"Ouch, that's cruel. You'll just wait until I die like this?" 

Your words were nothing he hadn't heard before, and he didn't feel offended by them. However, he didn't expect your lips to briefly curl into a smile, adding a jesting notion to what you said. Even that wasn't new, but… it struck a chord inside the usual stoic bringer of death. "I can't end your suffering," Thanatos explained, hoping you'd simply know about the unspoken rule that he couldn't harm you. 

"I think, I get it," you heaved, feeling worse by the minute. "You are just making sure I know I am supposed to die here."

That assumption wasn't wrong, even though there had been more playing into his service than just that. Too many kept trying to escape their fate, and sort of, Thanatos was just checking and cleaning up what would be left. You still had some time before your organs would fail and finally take you to the grave, different from the other souls that were already leaving for their new home. 

"No, you will die here," he retorted firmly. 

"I could," you chuckled, followed by another painful cough. 

"Don't test me, Mortal."

In between deep breaths, you allowed yourself a short laugh. Just like him, you were probably aware that there was nothing worse that could happen to your situation, so his threat was just a way he hoped to shut you up with. In silence, he watched over you, until eventually, your eye opened up again. This time your gaze was searching for him - or something really - but your sight had already begun to cloud. No matter how proud and achieved you are in life, in the face of death, everyone looked the same.

 "I think I did a good job. You know, fighting. Thought that if I already had to do it, I might as well give it my damn best."

More coughing. Thanatos watched the puddle of blood around you grow by the second. The spear inside your body must have been stirring up your insides the more you talked. Thanatos had expected something like this, you, young as you still were, had been led by the belief that doing your best could make up for the fact that you'd die. "But in the end, it was worth nothing, right? We lost after all."

Thanatos could only stare as he wondered what you expected him to say. He came here, knowing your life would end here, so really, the hope you had put into yourself didn't have the same disappointment to him now as it did to you. And yet, as he listened to you, seeing your body battered up with cuts and bruises, for the first time in centuries, he felt something akin to pity for you, and you specifically.

"Why did you fight then?" he asked, perhaps against your expectations. 

"Why? Because they told us too. The King ordered us to fight this battle, and only he could have known how many soldiers our opponent would bring."

"You could have run." Thanatos tried to stay as detached from you as possible, though it didn't quite work, your words taking their influence on him. "Can you?" you retorted before letting out a long sigh. Death was near, literally as well as figuratively. 

"Can you run from your duties? You don't have to do this either, do you?" 

"I do--"

"Really?"

There was no immediate response this time, your question justified, despite your little mortal soul undoubtedly never understanding the burdens on the shoulders of Gods. The world would stop if they all decided to not continue their work and fulfill their duties and expectations. If Thanatos stopped, no one would die anymore, and but the suffering of everything would never disappear too. 

"Dying sucks," you whispered, turning your head away. 

"I reckon," he muttered indifferently. Not like he could talk about it from experience. It must be painful, dreadful, and, depending on the circumstances, frustrating too. Right now, though he couldn't imagine the extent, you must have felt so hopeless and so, so scared. There wasn't much other reason for your banter.

"Thanatos… I always thought it was a pretty name, even if everyone feared it." Regaining his attention after finding himself momentarily lost in thoughts, he looked down at you again, watching as your eyelid closed slowly. "Say what you want, but you can't blame them for fearing death, and alas, me."

"Perhaps if they talked to you, they wouldn't be so afraid."

"Meaning you don't feel so afraid anymore?"

A smile danced over your lips once more, a truly unusual sight for a soul so close to their end, and especially after talking to him. Hypnos often teased Thanatos with being too formal and dutiful to be amusing, and Hades beware, comforting. Though he didn't care for his twin's words, yours did make him feel... happy. 

"Let's go then," you whispered, and Thanatos kneeled down, his hand falling to your wrist, listening to your pulse. Even with the feeling of your heart still desperately pumping blood through your body, only to lose it through your wounds, you didn't utter another word afterwards. You undoubtedly were dying, but perhaps, for now, you were merely unconscious as your lungs didn't stop reaching for air, and your heart used all your strength to function. 

Once more, the sun broke through the clouds, shining down right at you two, bringing Thanatos into the predicament of being blinded as it reflected off your armor. Perhaps he understood it now. Understood how unfair it was that someone like you, innocent and kind, was doomed to die out here. How awful his job on this day was, forcing him to take you to Tartarus and put you before the judgment of the god residing there. 

So what if... he didn't. 

He couldn't heal your wounds, nor make you feel better. But what he could do is battle the fate, earn the scorn of many, but at least, even if he took out the spear from your bloody body, you'd live. You'd live to tell your tale, and who knew, even he could apply some bandages, so maybe you'd recover some. 

It was a risk, and one Thanatos did not like taking, nor found pleasure in executing. But you couldn't refuse to come to this battle, whereas he, perhaps, after all these years, could refuse to do his job once. For your sake, and unbeknownst to him at that time, for his own even more.

His scythe disappeared in favor of Thanatos grabbing for the dreadful spear. Never before had he experience the kind of sound a wound could make from so close, and by the gods, he hoped he never would again. It was just your luck that you were unconscious, or the pain would have perhaps killed you faster than your wounds.

Leaning down, he scooped you up, his hand sullied with your blood and the dirt on the ground. The snow wasn't cold when he touched it, but your body was warm in his arms and still alive. Your threat of fade wasn't cut yet, and he wouldn't do it. With you in his arms, he stepped back, looking into your sleeping face before he retreated from the battlefield with a quiet, "Let's go."

No, the surface wasn't a place Thanatos liked to linger. It was too loud, too wrong, and too bright. But to see your smile, lively and happy, one more time, he didn't need to stay above ground. Where you were going, it was dark and, at times, lonely if you weren't a being born there. But you'd also be safe and alive for as long as you wished to.

And Thanatos would be with you, even if everyone would turn against him and his decision, for all eternity if he must.

[kitababie]

pathetic - suna rintarou

an // been slowly working on this one for awhile now, @undermattsun has given me skate rat brain rot sooo here we are they’re a dark content blog so please proceed with caution and dni if you’re a minor

wc // 1.5k unedited cause i suck, sorry

tw // smut, alcohol and drug use, reader doesn’t cum cause suna is a meanie ;(( but obviously all characters are aged up.

PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT (like, comment or rb) IF YOU ARE A MINOR i’m really not comfortable with it at all so please go read my fluff instead

It was pitiful really, the way you cling onto every word he spat at you, jumped at every opportunity to see him even if he spent the whole time hardly acknowledging you. He did acknowledge you when others tried to chat you up, you were stuck in a loop. You were almost giddy now, when you went to parties with him and someone got a little too handsy, you enjoyed the glint in his usually bored eyes, you must mean something to him right? That glint and the fact that he kept you around was enough for you to keep hoping.

So maybe you got a little overzealous tonight agreeing to this particular party; well, party is a generous term, it was just Suna’s group with a few plus ones hanging out in one of their basements.

You did have a bit of an alternative motive, which was pretty pitiful. But what else can you do? You just couldn’t kick your Suna addiction and he really didn’t seem to look twice at you until you had another guy trying to get in your pants.

So you had no choice but to flirt up a storm with one of his friends right?

-

The basement was half lit and smelled like old smoke and years of built up must. It didn’t seem familiar, or maybe you had been here and couldn’t remember the night, nevertheless you made your way further into the basement. There were a few small groups, some with faces you’ve seen before and some not. It wasn’t hard to find the half hooded eyes you were looking for.

He looked in your direction for a split second, nodding ever so slightly at your presence before bringing his attention back to lighting the small pipe in his hands.

How he always managed to make your heart race and stomach ache in anticipation with only a half assed nod, you would never understand. Your normally quick witted demeanour felt worlds away when you were near Suna. You headed to the kitchen, desperately needing a drink.

As you neared the kitchen, which was only a deep freeze, mini fridge and a few cabinets overhanging the mismatched countertops that were heavily cluttered with empty and full bottles and cans of alcohol alike. There were only two other people in the room, you recognized them to be the ‘infamous’ Miya twins.

They were in a heated discussion about...something. You really couldn’t hear anything to provide any proper context, which admittedly was probably for the best. The blonde-Atsumu right?- was more upset looking than his counterpart but they were equally loud.

Before you knew it there was an empty can being launched across the room, narrowly missing your head as you duck down.

“Oi! Next time look where you’re throwing!” You mumble an ‘asshole’ as you reach for the closest bottle of booze with the intention of mixing a drink.

Atsumu was quick to forget his argument and sauntered over to you, standing on the over side of the island countertop.

“Aw ’m sorry doll, how about I make ya a drink to make up for it?” He sported a lopsided smirk as he rested his head on his palm, leaning closer to you in the process.

You smirked back “depends on the drink I guess”

“How about I make it and you tell me how much of an amazing bartender I make?”

A ‘tch’ could be heard beside you, you jumped for a second not realizing the gray haired brother had made his way beside you.

“Shut it ‘Samu!” The blonde roared as he started pouring the drink.

“Didn’t even say anything ya idiot” his voice was low and rich. He side eyed you for a moment, you could practically feel his gaze rack up your body.

A cup sliding towards you snapped your attention away from Osamu.

Rum and coke, you conclude as the drink hits your taste buds, a very strong one at that. You thank Atsumu for the cup and try to bid the twins farewell.

“Ah come on don’t run away just yet, pretty lady” the quieter brother mused, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer. His body heat radiated towards you as he rests his hand on your waist.

“I have to go back to my...friend though” the hesitation made Osamu raise an eyebrow. ‘...friend’ as the only title you could come up with though, you only rolled your eyes as an answer.

“y/n.”

Speak of the devil. You spin around at the familiar monotone voice. Suna looked less than pleased, and definitely not sober, eyes burning a hole on the hand resting on your waist. You wiggled away from the younger twin and took ahold of Suna’s lazily outstretched hand.

“Till next time pretty boys! And thanks for the drink.” You wave them off as the raven haired male pulled you back to the grimy couch he was seated at earlier. You didn’t miss the eye roll he gave at your nickname for the twins. He slumped down on the couch and pulled you onto his lap, his hands on your thighs and hip. He loved being able to hold and claim you in front of everyone, he was rarely this clingy when it was just the two of you.

You chatted a bit with his friends who were also plopped down near the couch, it was hard to focus as you finished off your drink, you mental cursed yourself for not eating most of the day and letting the liquor go straight to your head. Your face felt warm and your thoughts felt more distant. All you think about were Suna’s hands that crept higher on your thigh and the one that made its way under the hoodie you had stolen from him a week back.

“Let’s get outta here.” He muttered out.

You turn back to look at him and say “I just got here Suna.” You protested lightly.

“I think you’ve socialized enough, we’re going.”

He pushed you off and you fumbled the landing a little, feeling the buzz hit your head harder than before now that you’ve stood up. He gripped the fabric of your sleeve and led the way.

It was dark out now, maybe you were there longer than you thought… Suna was still harshly tugging you towards his piece of shit car, you often told him that he’d end up on the side of the road one of these days and he just replied that if you didn’t like it you could walk.

“Think you’re cute huh? Chatting up the dumbass twins, stealing my clothes too” he pushed you against the side of the car, trapping you in between his arms. He had his same bored expression as his hand slipped back under the hoodie and pawed at your chest.

“Mm just trying to get your attention” you slur out with a low moan at the feeling of his hands on your skin.

“That desperate for some dick? Pathetic.” You lazily nod, too embarrassed for words but more than happy that you succeed in getting his attention. He lifted your legs, making you wrap them around his hips. Slowly he grinds against you, desperate you pulled him into a sloppy kiss. A breathy groan left your lips feeling him grow harder against you. Suna was never one for much foreplay however, he was quick to lower your bottoms and shift your panties out of the way.

“Wait Rin someone could see” you realized quickly as he shifted to get his erection free. He gave no warning as he slowly bottomed out in you. He laughed quietly “what don’t want anyone to see you so disparate for a scubbag like me to fuck you? I could call your pretty boys out. I’m sure they’d love to see you like this, practically crying because you can’t handle a little bit of cockwarming.”.

He was right, you were a mess. You tried to move your hips needing friction, his body was unmoving though. “Rin please” you whine out “just make it quick…” you bury your face in his neck, at least if someone came out they wouldn’t be able to see your face.

“As you wish” he muttered before finally moving his hips, his thrusts were fast and unrelentingly. You hung off of him trying your best not to moan, he just fit inside of you so well and his consistent rhythm was more than enough to start the coil building in your core.

He hissed when you clenched around his cock. He pulled your head away from him, hand holding your hair tightly. He couldn’t get enough of your fucked out face, spurting out strings of uneven moans.

You tried to match his pace but gave in as his thrust became more unpredictable and rough, you whimpered realizing he was close. Reaching down to rub your clit you huffed as his hand left your hair to grab your hand and pin it against the car.

You whined out his name, he only ignored you as his face began to scrunch and let out a silent moan as he came inside of you. You huffed once more and let your head fall into his heaving chest.

“Asshole.”

[cloud9in]

Driving Lessons Pt 2 (Poppy x Bea)

Long awaited. I hope you all enjoy. This is the finale of the series but I think that Bea and Poppy’s high school stories should be continued.....

Read Part 1 HERE

Tags: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @baexpoppy @poppysmc @clowneryme @thedaft1 @zigxryanz @aleiramacaii

Word Count: 2.6k 

Pt 2: The Date

Friday night had arrived and Bea’s nerves were at an all time high. She practiced breathing exercises that conveniently popped up on Youtube, there was no room for thoughts other than that of a blonde cheerleader. The buzz of her phone prompted her to jump up in excitement. 

1 message from Poppy🙄

 Poppy: I’m 99% sure that you haven’t forgotten about our “date” tonight. But if you did I’m not here to remind you. I’ll be here in 5 minutes. Remember, dress casual. ❣

 A familiar grin crept its way onto Bea’s lips as she reread the message about twenty times, taking note of the heart at the end. It may seem conventional, but even that was a lot coming from Poppy. Another message popped up which induced a smirk from the brunette. 

 Poppy: No, I am not driving the Benz.

 Bea set her phone down and spun around to check herself out in the mirror. She wore black ripped jeans with a red plaid design in the holes, red converse, and an oversized grey and black long sleeve. This should definitely fit Poppy’s definition of casual, right? 

 The blonde arrived outside of Bea’s house just as she reached the front door. Poppy was the first to react, her jaw threatening to drop open as she took in Bea’s appearance, all of it. Luckily, she was the queen of poker face’s and masked her thirsty expression….Bea on the other hand, failed horribly. She stood there wide eyed, her hands hanging uselessly by her sides as she studied the blonde. Poppy wore a white and pink checkered wool skirt, a knitted pink sweater, and a white crop top. Her jewelry also dazzled brightly against her neck. The blonde watched Bea amusingly, “you can quit ogling me now...:”

 Bea darts her eyes away self consciously. “Your uh...jewelry is distracting.” Really Bea. Nice going. She winces at her excuse and Poppy arches an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the flustered mess of the brunette in the moment. 

 “Hmm..well come now. I don’t like to waste time.”

 Like a puppy being offered food, Bea follows Poppy into her silver Range Rover. She gapes at the pristine interior and the stars on the ceiling. “I thought those star things only existed in Rolls Royce’s.” Poppy smirks appreciatively, her fingers flexing on the steering wheel, “Oh they do, but I have my ways.”

 Bea tries to convince Poppy to tell her where they’re going, but she scoffs immediately, not even turning her head in the brunette’s direction. “It’s a surprise.”

 “I didn’t take you for a girl that likes surprises to be honest.”

 “Well then there’s a lot you don’t know about me, Hughes.”

Bea fought the urge to ask Poppy to elaborate, to tell her every last detail about her. What flavor of ice cream she liked, what she loved to do on a rainy day, but there’s that moment of insecurity  that pushes her away from indulging in those thoughts. She didn’t want to seem overly-interested.

 But maybe that’s what Poppy wanted.

 The sudden quietness becomes obvious and Poppy peers over at the brunette, “I could always let you test drive this one. Maybe brush up on your driving skills?” Bea side eyes Poppy suspiciously, memories of Monday night’s driving lessons infiltrating her mind. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious right now..”

 “Of course I’m not! You don’t think I remember what you did to my other baby?! You’re lucky you were hurt in the process, otherwise who knows what I would have done…” Poppy glances quietly over at Bea, her eyes carefully scanning the scar that sits on her forehead.

 Bea smiles sheepishly, her hand reaching up to move her locks back. “I don’t think I wanna know- wait hey! What do you mean I was lucky-”

 “Oh please, you were lucky that I took you to a hospital. You are crazy Hughes, you know that?”

 “Crazy for you? Well now that you mention it…”

 Poppy rolls her eyes but can’t stop the smile that erupts on her face. “...Just let me take a look at it later. I need to make sure it’s healing right.”

 “Whatever you say doctor!” Bea mock salutes the blonde which earns another heavy eye roll, emphasis on heavy, but she didn’t mind. The opportunity to be less than an inch away from Poppy’s luscious lips again? Hell yes.

 “Okay, but what did your dad say? I’m sure he understood it was a complete accident.”

 “Mhm tell that to the insurance company. Which reminds me, you will be receiving a bill in the mail sometime next week for all the damages.”

 Bea nearly leaped out of her seat as her head snapped towards the blonde, who looked like she was having a great time. “Pop...you’re joking right...that is a thing you are doing right now.” Poppy rolls her eyes with enjoyment, letting out a soft chuckle. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Farmsville, I know you can’t even afford a tire. 

 “Wha-...hey!”

 ***

 After continuous bickering which almost prompted Poppy to unlock the passenger side door and kick Bea out...psychically, while they were doing 80 on the freeway, she eventually pulled into a parking lot. The only main source of light was the huge sign illuminating the words, “Animal Shelter”. Bea blinks in confusion for a few seconds before realizing she was the only one in the car. Poppy had already started walking towards the entrance, greeting a man with a….smile? Oh yeah, Bea was definitely curious now. Poppy actually looked relaxed when Bea had finally caught up with her. The blonde noticed her approach and hummed to herself, “took you long enough, hurry lets go inside.”

 “Pops-did you take a wrong turn...this is an animal shelter...”

 The blonde rolls her eyes so far back into her brain as she grasps onto Bea’s words. “No I did not take a wrong turn you imb--.....this..this is the place I picked.” The brunette flicks her eyes continuously between Poppy and the entrance before shrugging, a surprised expression on her face. Before Bea could say anything else, Poppy grabs her hand and pulls them into the store and into the column where cute puppies reached for them. A beautiful smile immediately lit up Poppy’s features as she bent down to pet one of the baby bulldogs. This gesture immediately enraptured Bea as she watched...Poppy? Or whoever this was. 

 Not wanting to disturb the moment Bea leans down to the cage next to her and picks up the golden retriever who happily licks her face. “Woah okay there boy, a little too much tongue.” She holds up the puppy as he barks playfully and wiggles in her arms. 

 “I’m definitely not complaining about your destination of choice, but can you tell me why you picked it?” 

 Bea gazes over at Poppy who looks like she’s in her true element. The blonde sighs and stands up, brushing her skirt down. “Well my parents own the place…and well to put it bluntly, some of these animals don’t have much time left.” 

 She turns towards Bea, watching her safely caress the puppy in her arms, and smiles, “I figured you have a close connection with animals and would want to make them feel loved before they go.” 

 Bea watches Poppy with a warm look in her eyes, and it was funny because Bea had been around the cheerleader a lot, but this...was different. Almost incredible. And Bea knew that this was the start of a feeling that she would never get enough of. 

 “I would. Thank you.” 

 The two girls spend a good amount of time playing with the animals. Poppy helped Bea feed newborn strays with a bottle of milk, more than often grabbing a hold of the brunette’s hand to steady the slight tremble. Bea didn’t want to admit she was nervous because Poppy was very close to her. And Poppy would never admit that Bea was doing everything right, but she wanted to hold her hand because it felt incredibly soft for a girl who worked on a farm everyday. 

 But she wasn’t the only one who was very observant that night. Bea kept her mouth shut about the situation, but this new side of Poppy blew her mind. There was so much to ask, to say, but the moment was too valuable to ruin. 

 The time seemed to go by quickly as the shelter started to close down. The time they spent with the animals felt fulfilling but Bea never missed the solemn look on Poppy’s face as she watched one of the older cats rest peacefully. There was so much to learn about the girl, and Bea thought it was best that she kept this date going.

 Food. That could work. 

 “Hey pops...I know I said you could pick the place but there’s somewhere else I want to take you. If you’re up for it.” 

 If it was anyone else, Poppy probably would have cussed at them for taking up too much of her time. But this was Bea, and something in her couldn’t say no. “As long as it doesn’t involve you and I in a forest alone.” The brunette laughs easily, wrapping her arm around Poppy’s waist without a second thought. “Oh please, do you really think that’s how I’d get rid of you?” 

 Poppy seems to lean into her touch, letting her strawberry blonde locks brush up against Bea’s cheeks, “I doubt you’d be the one getting rid of me darling, but sure.” 

 ***

“....Alright I take it back! I’ll even let you drive the car because I am not eating at a diner.”

 “Oh come on, they have the best milkshakes in town!”

 The brunette drags Poppy towards the diner without letting go because if she did, Poppy would probably scream bloody murder in the middle of the lot. 

 Bea led her towards a booth in the back, only then freeing her arm. Poppy plops into the seat after realizing there was no way she could charm her way out of this. “Don’t look so bummed out, you’ll change your mind when you try the famous strawberry milkshake.” 

 “I have never had a milkshake in my life.” Poppy visibly cringes, her posture stiffening at the thought of a sugary liquid infiltrating her body. 

 “Well today is your lucky day baby.” Bea winks at her and calls over a waitress who seems too comfortable with laying a hand on the brunette’s shoulder. It wasn’t evident whether the severe blush on Poppy’s face was because of Bea unknowingly using a pet name or because of the mystery girl who decided to do the most in her presence. 

 “We’ll have the regular Tasha, oh and the strawberry milkshake please.” 

 “Just one? What about your friend over here?”

 Poppy snaps her head up at the waitress who seemed to scan her every move. Something Poppy was definitely used to. Her hands are the first to make a move, slowly trailing their way up Bea’s arm from across the table. She doesn’t take her eyes off the waitress as she speaks softly. “Oh we’ll be sharing it honey. Put a cherry on top too okay?”

 The waitress reverts her eyes from the two and walks away without a word. Poppy watches her leave, biting her lip with satisfaction. 

 Bea can’t help but smirk to herself. “Oh you cannot take your eyes off of her can you? Relax, she’s an old friend.”

 The blonde scoffs, keeping her hands on the surface of Bea’s skin. “I don’t care who she is. Does she flirt with every customer in here? What happened to having class? Or some sort of decent? I mean do you talk to pigs like this?

 Bea squints her eyes and sighs warily. “Poppy this is not a five star restaurant, and that’s what you call being polite and kind to well known customers. People here are normal, not trained robots.” 

 Poppy shrugs to herself, her eyes darting around to the wall decorations and other people who are chatting happily with their families. The atmosphere did feel warm and peaceful, nobody sat up straight and practiced proper table manners. Nobody judged her for who she was or what designer she wore. There was room to actually breathe. Bea could sense the blonde slowly starting to adapt and relax in their new environment and she couldn’t be more grateful for making the right decision. When their food had come, Bea slid the milkshake towards Poppy and smiled shyly. “It’s all yours if you like it, we don’t have to share.” 

 “Nonsense Hughes, I can’t possibly drink this all by myself…but I call dibs on the cherry.” She steals the cherry from the top and plops it into her mouth, eyes sparkling from the burst of flavor. It was nothing compared to the milkshake though, Poppy swore she saw stars when tasting the sweet liquid. Bea laughs as a whipped cream mustache develops on the blonde’s lips after hogging the shake for herself.  

 ***

 “I’m paying for our next date by the way.” 

 Bea peers over at Poppy who walked her to her front door, “oh so there’s gonna be another one?” She can’t help but smile at Poppy’s sudden shyness. 

 “Well I enjoyed tonight, a lot. Maybe more than a lot.”

 “I did too.”

 The silence that consumed them wasn’t exactly uncomfortable but it was enough to make them stare at each other. Bea’s mind started to fog as she thought about finally closing the distance between them. She wanted nothing more than to mask the silence with a kiss. Bea looks at Poppy, who seems to be lost in thought. 

 “What are you thinking?”

 “What?”

 “You’re usually deep in thought when your eyebrows scrunch together like that. Or maybe you’re just planning on jumping me as soon as I turn around.”

 Poppy smiles softly. “Do you know the feeling when the thing you wanted the most is right in front of you, yet it still feels unreal and almost impossible.” 

 Bea takes a deep breath and nods, “I do.” 

 Okay Hughes you’re gonna kiss her in 3. You’re gonna make the move. Come on. 

 But of course Poppy had other plans. 

 “Mmh!”

 The feeling of Poppy’s soft lips had caught Bea completely off guard. A hum of pleasure escaped her mouth as the heat started to increase between them. Bea grabbed hold of Poppy’s cheek and steadied the kiss, her eyes slowly started to shut as she sunk into the warm, smooth feeling. Bea smiles into the kiss as Poppy’s tongue begins exploring the depths of her mouth, and she bites back a moan when the blonde takes her bottom lip between her teeth, tugging it slightly, feeling the desire pooling in the pit of her stomach. Poppy places her lips back on Bea’s, passion igniting once more as Bea begins to dominate the kiss, her hands finding her way to the blonde’s waist, pulling her in even closer. 

 Poppy felt like she could kiss Bea forever, if it wasn’t for the need of oxygen. When they both finally pulled back, the blonde laughed with joy. “That felt so amazing.” 

 Bea wanted to blow a huge sigh of relief that Poppy initiated the kiss, because imagine fucking that up. She just held her close and basked in the moment. Her lips swelled with excitement as she still felt the ghost of Poppy’s tongue tracing it. Poppy always had something to say, but right now there was so much more she could do. And the first thing she would do is finally make Bea hers.

***

if you want to be tagged in any Poppy fics let me know.

[twisted-crumpets]

Could i request the first kiss with fem!mc but with the vice dorm leaders, please? The other one was so good! 💕 Thankyou

Ayyyyy of course I can and welcome.

Also thank you for the kind words I really do appreciate them. 🖤

━━ Trey Clover ━━

Trey was always pretty observant and soon noticed how his feelings may not be as unrequited as he previously believed.

Pink blushes and eyes dreamily locked onto each other’s for too long was sort of a dead giveaway. However, Trey wished to formally explain his feelings for his S/O.

Unfortunately, an Unbirthday Party was coming up and whilst all of the treats were made, the roses were a far cry from done and Cater begged anyone who’d listen for help.

Hearing the third year’s desperate pleas, his darling decided to meet up with Trey so they could both tackle as many roses as possible.

The job wasn’t completely unpleasant, yes they both would rather be doing something perhaps a bit more enjoyable, but they both treasured each other’s company and the small talk was rather entertaining.

It wasn’t long before it finally clicked in Trey’s mind that they were alone and peered down at the girl who was honing her all into making a stubborn rose red.

“S/O, I’m sure you are well aware but I just wanted to say.. I love you.”

His darling nodded at first before taking a violent double take and glancing at Trey baffled and red at his casual confession.

“Hmm~ was it not obvious already? I would’ve thought you already knew.”

Teasingly chuckling at her, he pressed a gentle kiss against her crimson cheek, unable to hide his smirk. Cupping her warm face in his hands, he looked deep into her eyes to ask for permission before pressing his lips against hers.

The kiss was long and warm. It filled them both with a feeling of home and and comfort and neither of them wanted to leave.

Eventually, Trey pulled away, poking her still red face with his finger, unable to wipe his former smirk off of his face at her bashfulness.

The garden may not have been very finished, but they couldn’t care less when they had one another in their arms.

━━ Ruggie Bucchi ━━

Ruggie was worried. He always knew that he wanted to eventually confess how he feels to his love, but he knew that with essentially no money, he had limited resources.

Sneaking money out of Leona’s wallet little by little, Ruggie began to feel more confident in finding the perfect inspiration or possible gift for his beloved. As he stood in Sam’s shop, he felt a deep sense of regret for not just stealing a necklace to sell instead.

Prices so high it made him dizzy in the head and weak in the knees. Despair lingering in his chest.

That is, until he saw Trey buying some eggs which caused an idea take root in his mind. Baking was something couples did often and it did sound rather romantic. Plus, who was he to deny spending time with his love and filling his stomach for delicious doughnuts?

After class, S/O was nearly tackled to the floor by the blur that was Ruggie who had a strong determined look twinkling in his eyes.

“Shishishi sorry about that... hey! Uh before you go, I’ve been asked to make some treats by Leona, but I barely know much about it. Do you mind giving me a hand?”

Tentatively, his S/O nodded her head, eyebrow raised in bewilderment before parting ways, delighted and perplexed.

Making her way to the kitchen, she began to wonder what was in store. The hyena loved to play pranks, maybe he had one in store for her?

It was however a great relief to see the cheeky student frowning at the recipe as if it was in another language.

His ears cutely twitching hearing her giggles, his head shooting up and with a grin so wide that it could’ve split his face in two adorned on his face.

Hours passed and she couldn’t deny that the evening was very gratifying, with the happy chatter and raucous laughter that filled the room. When doing a count of the doughnuts that were laid out on her tray, she soon noticed one had gone missing and quickly informed Ruggie, teasingly questioning him about its whereabouts.

“Shishishi ahhhh S/O this has been gone for ages~~ you are too easy to trick!”

Placing it back on the tray, she observed the design on the surface, eyes widening to the size of dinner plates after resist to messy “I love you” scrawled onto the surface of the small treat.

Cooing at the sweet gesture, she wrapped her arms around the trickster and softly responded to his feelings, immediately feeling him let out a gigantic sigh of relief.

Pulling away slightly, she stared at his lips entranced before finally connecting them, a cute yelp escaping from the boy.

The kiss was sugary sweet and fluffy and many more was stolen by the playful thief, accompanied by booming laughter and warm doughnuts.

━━ Jade Leech ━━

The Monstro Lounge has always been a rather busy establishment and had many a particularly busy day. Today seemed to be one of them as the orders kept piling up and showed no signs of stopping. Tireless hours catering and cleaning, until finally the crowd has thinned until the room was empty once more and the Lounge was finally closed.

Weary and stressed, Jade decided to go to the school pool and unwind. The tranquil silence flooded the room and Jade slowly sank into the room watery depths, feeling himself becoming truly serene. Which was sadly interrupted by voices from above calling his name.

With a slightly irritated sigh, he heaved himself onto the pool’s edge, scanning his surroundings with narrowed eyes. That was until they befell onto his love and instantaneously softened.

“Oya? What are you doing here S/O? Surely it is due time for you to be back in your dorm?”

His stomach suddenly felt light and filled with his butterflies learning of his dearest’s concern for him and slowly shut his eyes, not expecting her to stay and hurried rush a variety of sentences jammed together creating one love fuelled mess.

Disheartened by the lack of reply, she went to leave, slightly embarrassed before she was stopped by a cool hand wrapped around her wrist, revealling a slightly pink Jade.

“I must inform you that your feelings are not unrequited.. I love you too, my flower.”

Tugging her wrist to kneel by the pool side, he tilted his head upwards and connected their lips, completely intoxicated by the contrast between their bodies.

Gasping for air, his darling didn’t notice the toothy smile spread across Jade’s face as he pulled her into the pool, wrapping her arms around his neck and connecting their lips once more.

Addictive kisses were stolen and exchanged and neither of them could ever wish for more as they melted into one another, hearts swelling with every touch.

━━ Jamil Viper ━━

Jamil was ready to pass out. His usual menial chores were increased tenfold as a result of Kalim and his impulsive decision to let his wild pets roam free inside the dorm.

The chaos of the day finally reaching its end, Jamil dragged himself towards his room, ready to sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Until, he set his eyes on his love sat patiently on his bed, instantly brightening and then furrowing her eyebrows in worry over the fatigue that seemed to radiate from every part of his body.

Ushering him to bed hurriedly, Jamil fought every urge to sleep as he inquired about why she waited for him at such a late hour.

When hearing her admit her worry for him, he scoffed and gently flicked her nose, thankful for the darkness of the room hiding the pink that was painted across his cheeks.

“That was rather foolish of you. This is my job and has always been, you don’t need to worry for me.”

He softened at her indignant whines of protest he brought her into a warm hug and sleepily murmured his feelings into her hair, blissfully unaware of what he just said until he felt his beloved stiffen up in his arms.

“Hmmmmm.... I love you, you know that right, Jewel?”

Calmly he apologised, unable to hide the slight disheartenment in his tone which left him as soon as he heard her shyly repeat his previous words.

Cradling her face, he pressed his lips to hers in a small tired kiss, lips moving in sync lazily. Tiredly pulling away, Jamil crawled under his covers and gestured for her to follow suite as he pressed his warm frame against hers and held her back close to his chest. His heart thumping wildly in joy, his brain still struggling to process the sheer amount of love he holds for his beloved.

“Goodnight my Jewel, I will wake you up in the morning.”

━━ Rook Hunt ━━

Rook had been acting suspicious. He already did have a shady appeal to him, but it was even more apparent than usual.

Whenever he appeared before her, his scent began to be rather sweet and fragrant and his hands where always stained green.

It didn’t help that he kept staring intently at his love like she was the last star in the sky, and despite his usual romantic bravado, this new behaviour screamed at her that he was planning something.

During the lunch break, Rook eagerly bounced up to her, hearts almost visible in his eyes, asking if she was free after school. Taken aback by his suddenness, she stood and stared for a while trying to gather her bearings. Agreeing apprehensively, she couldn’t hide the curiousity filling her eyes.

Upon hearing her reply, he could’ve sworn he entered heaven.

He almost launched her to the botanical garden, his heart running marathons, his mind a mess of thought out poems combining into one chaotic choir of infatuation.

With happiness radiating in every step, he took her to an picturesque area where an archway of orchids greeted them.

“Dear S/O, no amount of words could possibly describe how much my heart swoons for you, my love for you is as bountiful as the sea, encasing me in your radiance. This simple archway is a humble tribute to your golden heart, which I hope to one day own.”

Going weak at the knees at such a heartfelt confession, she responded with such excitability that could have put his to shame.

A stronger sense of devotion was glowing in the hunter’s eyes as he wrapped his toned arms around his love, span her in a circle, holding her close to his heart and kissed her with immense passion.

The kiss was fiery and warm and his darling could feel themselves melt even further into him.

The kiss went deeper and deeper, drowning them both.

Pulling away, Rook panted for air and presses his forehead against her’s.

“Hehe, ma bichette, our love seems to truly be written in the stars.” *

━━ Lilia Vanrouge ━━

Lilia was always very mysterious, but it truly did reach new levels of strange.

The mischievous fae had planned to hang out with his S/O a week in advance and seemed to be up to no good, with the telltale glint in his eyes being a dead giveaway.

Meeting up with his darling at her dormitory, he placed a hand on the small of her back, and began to lead her into the forest.

“Kufufufu I believe that in order for our small rendezvous to be truly enjoyable, one must insist for their guest to close their eyes and have faith in their partner. “

Apprehensively, she placed both hands into Lilia’s cold and calloused hands, shivering slightly at the temperature different between the two and closed her eyes, making her more aware of the sounds the dark forest created.

Sweet bird song and the light windy breeze clashed together in perfect harmony, gifting her the ability to completely relax and put her faith in the impish boy.

It felt as though they both had been walking for a millennia until she was finally stopped in her tracks, and the giggling from the man who was once before her turned silent.

Curiously, she opened her eyes and gasped in amazement. The scenery around her being nothing short of magnificent.

The moon had begun to peak out and painted the trees a beautiful silver. Small delicate beads of light flickering around, illuminating the forest gracefully.

Slowly turning around, she jumped at the sight of the usually talkative fae, quietly smiling lovingly at the innocent joy on his lover’s face.

“Sweet dove, the words I utter now are the words you are the true emotions that have taken flight within me. I love you. No, love isn’t enough, it scarcely passes as sufficient enough. There is no word that exists within any of the dictionaries in all the world that could possibly describe how much I cherish every part of you.”

Hearing her acceptance towards his feelings, he giggled so purely it reminded her of tinkling bells and elegantly dipped her, gazing at her loving expression that was aimed at no one but him and pressed his lips smoothly against hers.

He could’ve sworn that nothing fit quite so perfectly as the two of them, lips moving in sync, hearts beating a thunderous rhythm, joy and mirth beaming through their lovestruck grins.

*my doe

Thank you for this request and sorry it took a while, I was struggling with getting some of the characters right. I tried to make each confession specially tailored to how each character would go about love.

I hope you enjoyed your meal!

[andypantsx3]

conspire | 3 | practice

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 13,307 words / 5 chapters

summary: Shouto Todoroki had definitely only asked you out in order to ward off his horde of interested suitors. So why does he keep actually taking you out on suspiciously realistic dates?

tags: romance, reader-insert, fake dating, misunderstandings

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

Fake dating Shouto Todoroki was an absolute whirlwind, but it certainly came with its benefits.

As weeks passed, you found yourself with a compliant test subject and plenty of data for the work you were doing on his support item. You’d confirmed that you could use this work as your submission for your senior project -- developing a support item without any input, direction, or critique from a professor -- and you’d set to the task with enthusiasm after that.

Shouto caved easily enough to the tests you’d put to him on your first “date” and you’d had way too much fun getting him to freeze and heat things for you, strapping him up in all the nodules and wires as you’d promised. Over the course of a few weeks, you’d analyzed the absolute crap out of the cryogenic structure of his ice crystals and tested the limits of his temperature control to your heart’s content, pleased that the amount of time you were spending together also played into your cover story.

It turned out his quirk worked as you’d suspected, which was incredible. Shouto’s power allowed his body to work like a heat pump, directing thermal energy against the current in which it naturally flowed at will. He used the energy from one side of his body to alternately push energy into or draw energy from the other side of his body, in order to create a temperature gradient strong enough to induce ice or flames.

He was basically like a really good looking, high-powered air conditioner.

The discovery was overwhelming and gave you limitless possibilities as to what kind of support item you could build for him.

The problem was, there were maybe too many options.

“You can watch my quirk training, if you need more direction,” Shouto had suggested one night when you were tucked up doing homework together. He’d really taken to the role of doting boyfriend and put in appearances often, taking you out on a series of other mind-bendingly good dates and showing up to your dorm on school nights with homework and small, thoughtful gifts like bottles of tea.

Through his efforts, he’d become something like a close friend.

You’d discovered over the course of your time together that Shouto wasn’t as quiet and serious as you’d initially suspected him to be, and you quite liked the sides of himself that he chose to unveil. He had a tendency to be blunt and was strangely oblivious given how observant he could be, and he had a little bit of a short fuse when the match was properly lit. He was still kind and thoughtful for the most part, but as he grew more comfortable with you it was like a flip sometimes switched and out crawled an inner gremlin, eager to tease and fluster you.

To your eternal mortification, he’d most definitely caught on to the fact that kissing you was the fastest way to fluster you, though in your defense, being kissed by a man who had no romantic interest in you was certainly a mind-boggling concept in and of itself. He’d thankfully only kissed you a few other times--once, weirdly, when you’d been almost sure no one else was around--though he sometimes watched you with a look in his eye like he was scheming up ways to make it happen again.

He was a very convincing fake boyfriend.

You had agreed to follow him to quirk training the following evening, and showed up to take your place on the sidelines of beta field that afternoon in a thick coat with a thermos of warm tea. Deep in your bag, you’d embarrassingly stowed an extra for Shouto, a habit formed by all of your time spent together.

He was there when you got there, clearly having come straight from class, and huge walls of ice already dotted the field, one or two twisted into melting spires. Slick trails of water ran down their sides where he’d blasted them with his fire, pooling into the cracks of the earth at their bases, and singe marks scored the grass around them.

Shouto seemed to brighten when he caught sight of you, and he came padding over to where you were making yourself comfortable on the cold ground.

“Anything in particular you want me to test out?” he asked, but you shook your head, unearthing a notebook and a pen from your bag.

“No, just do your thing,” you said, uncapping your pen. “I’m just looking to observe how you usually move around and channel your quirk. I rewatched all the sports festival footage from the last couple years but your style changes wildly between them, so I want to get a feel for how you currently do things.”

He looked somewhat embarrassed. “You watched those?”

You let a teasing smile flit across your lips, curious to see what kind of mood he was in today. “Oh yeah. Loved the one where you got totally stomped by Bakugou.”

To your amusement, his eyebrow twitched. “I let him win.”

Men and their fragile egos. You suppressed a smirk and stretched leisurely like a cat in the sun, tipping your face back to look up at him. “Sure you did.”

A look of annoyance passed over his handsome features, and he huffed, taking a threatening step closer to you. Something glinted in his eye, and that was all the warning you had before he leaned down and pressed his mouth over yours.

You instantly dropped your pen, fisting a hand in the jacket of his uniform to pull him closer. It briefly crossed your mind that no one was around to observe the two of you, and that this kiss was perhaps wasted effort on his part, but then he did that thing with his tongue you liked and all rational thought fled from your brain.

Shouto kissed all the sass straight out of your mouth before drawing back, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

“I’ll thank you to keep quiet,” he said, and you could only stare at him dumbly as he smirked and made his way back onto the field.

Confusion eventually washed over you as he set about practicing with his quirk, and you could only pay half a mind to what he was doing.

What had that been about? You checked your periphery to confirm that no one else was around to have witnessed his assault on your good sense, confusion only mounting when there was no one in sight. You knew he wasn’t actually interested in you, but that kiss had felt like something a real boyfriend would do to shut a mouthy girlfriend up. Was he getting so used to your little charade that he hardly minded? Did it affect him so little that it hardly troubled him at all?

You pushed your thoughts down for examination at a later time, forcing yourself to keep your mind on Shouto’s quirk training.

You took careful note of the graceful way he moved, the raw power with which he released both sides of his quirk. He was faster than almost anything, able to maneuver around the field with deadly precision, unbelievable power called to his fingertips within seconds and wielded with brutal efficiency. He was, much like his quirk, two halves of some contradictory whole, combining incredible strength with unexpected elegance to create a combat style that had quite likely never been seen before.

You sketched out several notes on his movements and jotted down a couple vague ideas for support items that came to mind as you watched him.

After a while, Shouto seemed to come to the conclusion that you’d had enough time to observe him and started messing around instead, creating enormous ice waves to slide down for your amusement, looking like a very strange surfer on some still mass of ocean. You laughed as he shot down a slope faster than he’d clearly expected, throwing up another hill of ice to slow his descent.

He came sliding over to you, huffing a little after hours of exertion. “You’re acting like you’ve seen better.”

You smiled. “You just looked funny.”

That wry twist at the corner of his mouth was back. “You do it, then.”

You stared at him. “What?”

He held out a hand, wiggling his long fingers. “You’ve had your fun judging me from over here. You do it if you’ve got opinions.”

A stab of panic shot through you. “Absolutely not.”

Something like a challenge glinted in his eye and he surged forward, scooping you up into his arms easily. You panicked, instantly trying to twist out of his hold and get him to drop you, but he just walked back onto the training field, one arm barred across yours in a steely hold. You tried to get a foot against his hip but his grip was too tight to allow you movement enough to do it.

“Shouto, you had better drop me or I will straight up murder you,” you grit out, gripping his sleeve in terror as a crackling noise started where his feet met the ground.

“You had better hope I don’t,” he tossed back as a platform of ice formed under his boots, carrying you up to the top of one icy wave. Your rise was horrifyingly quick, and you were torn between being absolutely terrified and impressed that this is how he maneuvered around all the time. You gripped him in horror.

“I will never forgive you if you do this,” you threatened, staring down the steep drop hundreds of feet to the ground. “Nothing you could ever do will make up for a betrayal like this.”

“I have some ideas,” he said. Then he took a step off the top.

You became aware of a piercing scream and realized it was coming from you. You wanted to press your face into Shouto’s chest and close your eyes but you were too terrified to even look away from what was happening as the two of you slid down the ice at hundreds of feet per second, hurtling at the ground like a rocket. You couldn’t believe you had laughed at him if this is what it felt like to do what he did.

You felt Shouto tense underneath you, and the arm under your legs flashed notably colder, before another layer of ice formed, evening out the wave into a less precipitous curve, slowing your slide and carrying you easily to the field. Gravity seemed to catch up to you again and you slid down a little in his arms. Your heartbeat pounded in your chest and your hands clenched in the fabric of his costume, even as you slid to a stop, soft grass rustling underneath his boots as he stepped off the ice.

“You’re a dead man, Shouto Todoroki,” you promised, hands still fisted at his sleeve. And he was, just as soon as you could let go of him.

Another smirk crossed his infuriatingly handsome features and you found yourself a little mesmerized by the sight of him.

He hefted you higher in his arms. “But if I was dead, how would I do this?” he asked, then pressed his mouth to yours again.

Well, he certainly had your number. Your plans for murder were instantly wiped from your brain like notes from a whiteboard, and you moved a hand to his collar to pull him down to you. His mouth was hot and he was excruciatingly gentle, working you over thoroughly, until you could hardly remember your words, never mind a flawless plot for murder.

Shouto shifted carefully and you became aware of grass under your back. Then he was moving over you, pressing you into the field with the solid weight of his body. His mouth left yours to pepper a trail of kisses in a slow line down your neck, and those long fingers tugged down the zipper of your jacket, coming up to pull down the collar of your sweater to allow him better access.

You squirmed mindlessly under him, letting out surprised little gasps whenever he found a spot that you particularly liked. The chill of the evening washed over you and you pressed yourself into him for warmth, sighing when his left side flared hotly. He bit down carefully over your pulse where it beat wildly in your throat.

“Y/N,” he groaned, and a vague thought came to you like this was somehow strange for the two of you to be doing, some reason why you shouldn’t be. You couldn’t remember why. “Tell me if I should stop.”

He pressed his mouth back to yours again, a calloused hand making its way up the side of your sweater and disconnecting your thoughts again. This felt too good to be wrong, why shouldn’t you do this? A thumb brushed under the fabric of your bra, catching a nipple, and you jerked under him, letting out an embarrassing noise. He made a noise low in his throat and did it again, tensing when you shuddered under him again.

He let out a harsh breath, then your sweater was torn upwards and your bra quickly followed, a warm mouth closing over one nipple. You swore, the heat of his mouth so unbelievably good against the cold air, arching into him as he swirled his tongue.

“Oh my god,” you managed, fingers tangling desperately in his hair. You hooked a leg over his hip, anchoring him against you harder. Your own hips raised without any input from your brain, and you swore again when one of his thighs pressed tightly to your core.

He moved to your other breast, laving over the hardened peak, two toned eyes watching your face with undisguised interest.

“Shouto,” you gasped out, drawing him back up to you to kiss him. His chest pressed into yours, the strong line of his body pinning you down everywhere, and the weight of him was unbelievably wonderful over you. Why had you ever thought you shouldn’t do this?

A blinding light suddenly flickered on over you, searing even through your eyelids where they’d fluttered closed. You jerked apart in shock. Blinking blearily, you realized it had grown dark and the field lighting system had just kicked in.

Shouto sighed and crawled off of you, leaning back on his knees to stare down at you. You blushed, the implications of what you’d just done pressing down on you, realizing your entire chest was exposed to him in the harsh light. You yanked your sweater back over you, struggling a little bit to get the band of your bra back down. Shouto placed a hand on your hip.

“Uh,” he said, something like a flush rising to his own cheeks, “That’s what you get for laughing.”

You choked out a shocked laugh, staring up at him. “That’s what I get for laughing?”

He smiled again, climbing to his feet and pulling you up with him. “I imagined my girlfriend would be more supportive.”

You gathered up your bag, hardly daring to look at him. “You picked the wrong one then, I think.”

His smile turned soft, something almost private. “I think I did okay.”

Warmth flashed through you again and you had to push down the well of thoughts that bubbled up inside you like a spring. You tried to ignore the niggling at the back of your brain as bid your goodnights and went separate ways to your dorm buildings. One thought refused to be pushed aside, however, following you as you made your way to your room, lingering as you readied for bed and turned out the light. You couldn't sleep for a long time as you tried to dredge up an answer.

What the hell had that been?