#and the whole we were leaving she’s complaining to my brother

[pubby-from-outerspace]

bruh its 7:16 why is my mom already tryna start arguments

possibly not agere safe in the tags? i dont use any bad language but i do discuss ridicule from parents

[axelsagewrites]

Hey, can I please request Jacaerys x aunt!reader where he goes to her after the dance as she had been imprisoned in the dungeons and he offer her to let him have her or she'll be sentenced to death or sum. And reader is as pious and religious as Alicent and she is horrified by the idea of being sullied by ""bastard seed"" but she reveals to be c0ck-drunk by the end of it?

Jace Velaryon*Perfect Wife

Pairing: Jace x f!reader

Word count: 2809

Warnings: dub con, imprisonment, held at knife point (not during smut), praise, degradation, nipple play, p in v sex, hickeys, spanking, bruising, forced marriage, smut 18+c

Masterlist here

You weren’t much of a warrior. You had been raised the way a princess should have been. Well, that’s what your mother told you. However, when two days had passed since Aemond and Aegon had left to confront Rhanerya, and everyone refused to tell you what was happening you decided to get the hell out of there on your dragon.

Maybe you’d end up in Essos and sell a dragon egg for a home. Maybe even Dorne. You could try throw yourself on their mercy. After all, their ambassadors had always seemed to enjoy your company. However, all your plans soon crumbled when you accidentally flew into what you’d assumed to be an empty clearing.

You’d landed in a small field and had quickly tried to ‘borrow’ an apple from a local farm when you felt a strong grip on your arm and a sharp blade on your neck. So cold it had to be Valyrian steel. “And who do we have here?” you recognised Jace’s voice clearly. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you pretty girls shouldn’t go about dawdling?”

-

The stone floors bruised your knees each time you knelt to pray but you didn’t complain or even wince at the pain. You’d counted the days you’d been here by etching marks in the stone with the corner of your Seven-star necklace your mother had given you. 27 days so far. Each morning you prayed. Well, what you thought was morning. Then each afternoon then evening. Each time to a different member of the seven. Even the stranger since perhaps the god of death was the one you truly needed right now.

“My lady,” a sing song voice called out, “Lunch is ready,” Jace said as he approached your cell with his usual grin. He didn’t come every day but when he did it only seemed to add to your punishment. “I made sure to pick you the freshest apple,” he crouched down, holding it out to you.

You kept your eyes on the ground as you tried to finish your prayer, “C’mon now. They’re clearly not listening to you,” he mocked, sitting down the tray in front of the bars to your cell.

Still, you ignored him as you wrapped them up. Jace sighed and just as you finished your prayers he stood, taking the tray with him. “Where are you going?” you called, moving to stand on your feet and grabbing the bars, “That’s my food,”

“No this is my food,” he said, as if he was calling the sky blue, “And you never took it,”

“I was praying!”

“Not fast enough,” he teased. “Maybe next time you’ll remember to acknowledge the heir to Westeros,” he said as he turned to leave.

“My brothers not here,” you mumbled, turning around to go take your place on the wooden bench they called a bed.

The wine cup clattered against the wall, missing your head by only an inch. You span on your heels to confront him, but the only trace was your food dropped on the ground in a head and the apple slowly rolling towards your cell.

It stopped just out of arm’s length of the bars as if the gods really were mocking you. It took you laying on the ground, stretching out the tips of your fingernails to manage to roll it closer so you could grab it. You consoled yourself knowing he never came twice in one day.

Yet this time he did.

Jace arrived with a meal so nice looking it almost reminded you of what you used to eat. There was even a whole chicken leg on it. when he saw the apple core in the corner of your cell Jace couldn’t help but laugh. “Here,” he said, reaching it out for you to try manoeuvre through the bars when he suddenly pulled it back, “Aren’t you going to thank your prince?”

“Thank you,” you glared, reaching your hand out.

Jace just smirked, “Thank you what?”

“Thank you, dear nephew,” you offered with a fake smile.

“Say it. say that I am the true heir, a true prince, and I will be most obliged to give you this chicken leg. Straight from the queens table,” he said, showing it to you once more just to rub it in.

You could feel your stomach rumble, but you couldn’t say it. not after all this time. Not after all the battles. Not for a chicken leg. “My mother isn’t here,” you said through gritted teeth.

Jace reached through the bars, grabbing your neck before you could react. His grasp was tight but despite his fingers digging into your skin you weren’t afraid, “I can only be so patient,” he warned before letting you go. He turned to leave, taking the food with him, “besides, who said your mother is even alive?” he mocked before slamming the door shut behind him.

The stalemate continued for another day and a half and suddenly you were regretting not rationing the apple. At least the guards had kept your water jug topped up, but you didn’t want to risk that being taken too.

“I have a new deal,” Jace said, walking in empty handed.

“Where’s my food?” you said, not even standing from where you sat on your bed.

“That’s not very polite,” Jace tutted, leaning against the bars, “How would you like to get out of here?” you couldn’t help your eyes widening at the idea. Something Jace seemed to revel in. he unlocked your cell and despite wanting to run you sat still as he closed the door behind him. “Come here. Let me get a closer look at you,”

You wanted to slap him but instead you stood up and slowly crossed the floor while Jace’s eyes scanned your frame. “Still so beautiful,” he mumbled before he finally brought his eyes back to yours as your cheeks burned, “I have a new proposal for you,” he said, reaching to stroke your cheek. He was gentle but you still flinched at his touch.

He stepped closer, moving his hand down till he was toying with your necklace, his eyes not so subtly on your chest, “Marry me,” he said, and you instantly grimaced at his words, “Be my wife and I will let you free,”

“I wouldn’t be free,” you snapped, “I’d be the wife of a bastard, a nobody, a waste of space- “you began to spit your venom at him only to be cut off by his tight grasp around your neck.

“I wouldn’t be so hasty if I was you,” he warned, “What I’m offering is generous. You should hear what Daemon had planned for you,” he dropped his grip and you instantly stepped back, trying to recatch your breath.

Jace slowly began to circle you, eyeing you up from every angle as you silently thought over his offer when suddenly a thought popped into your head, “What’s in it for you? Last time I checked you already had a betrothed,”

“Alliances can change, we both know that” he drawled, his chest pressed against your back while his hand grazed your hip. Not mine, you thought, but you stayed silent instead. “Besides I need a wife. Someone to show off in court,” his hand trailed up from your hip to your waist making you shudder through the thin dress they’d gave you, “Someone to bear children. Someone to warm my bed,” he said, his lips pressed against your ear.

His hand went to move to your front, but you grabbed his wrist before he could touch anything, “I’d rather die,” you spat.

Jace grabbed your hips, spinning you around and pulling you flush against his chest, “That can be arranged,” he warned but he still wore his teasing smirk, “You think you’d survive here without me? A pretty young things like yourself in nothing but her night dress roaming around court, think of the scandals. Gods help you if you even make it out the castle. What do you think the small folk would do with a princess like you?”

“Perhaps they’d save me. If they believed in the true king,” you said, trying to hold firm but feeling yourself shake.

He chuckled under his breath, “There is only a queen. C’mon, I can’t be that bad surely. You saying you’ve never thought about it?” he said, his hand moving down to your ass, his lips moving to your ear, “Its not just the gods who know your dirty little secrets,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning your neck.

“I want my dragon back,” you said suddenly making Jace lift his head from where he’d been dragging his lips across your neck, “If I’m to be your wife,”

“As soon as your belly swells with my seed,” he said, “Anything else?”

It felt like a trap, but you tried anyway, “And separate rooms. I don’t want to see you more than I have to,”

He chuckled this time, “That can be arranged, anything else?” you eyed him carefully before shaking your head no. one child and then you could escape with your dragon. It would take a year, maybe two, and then you’d be free. “Good. I shall have them draw up a treaty. But in the meantime,” he said, grabbing your ass so suddenly you gasped, “I want some kind of reassurance you won’t back out,”

“And what’s that?” you asked through gritted teeth.

“I want to fuck you,” he said making the words dry up in your throat, “And if I didn’t know any better id say you wanted me too,”

“And if I say no?” you asked.

Jace dropped his grip, but a smirk fell on his lips as he began to walk away. “Then no deal,” he said, reaching for the door.

“Wait!” you called, reaching out to grab his arm. Jace turned his gaze back to you with a knowing smirk, “I suppose if you are to be my husband. The gods, they’d understand,” you said, trying to rationalise it all.

Jace moved closer to you till his chest was flush against yours, “I’m sure they’d understand after all,” he said, pushing the hair out of your face, “Who could blame you for wanting some pleasure in your life?” he said, his hand trailing down till he grabbed your tit, squeezing it softly, “Why would something that feels so good be so wrong?” he whispered in your ear, his hand traveling lower to your thighs, toying with the hem of his dress.

His lips moved to kiss down your jaw, across your neck till he was kissing your undiscovered sweet spot making you moan softly. His arms moved to slip around your waist, pulling you somehow closer to him as your hands rested on his shoulders. You gasped when he squeezed your ass and winced at the quick slap, he gave it before his hands moved to the hem of your dress.

The cold air rushed over your frame, making your nipples harden as Jace pulled the dress over your head in one swoop. The only thing to cover you was your necklace but right now that felt even worse. Jace’s eyes travelled your frame, soaking up every inch, “The gods have blessed me with you,” he murmured.

“You do not know the gods,” you glared but Jace just chuckled as his hands went to cup your tits, stroking his thumbs over your perked nipples making you whimper.

“Perhaps you don’t either,” he said as he led you by your hips to your bed. He sat on it, his hands resting on your hips as he pulled you into his lap.

His lips moved to your collarbones, kissing and nipping at the soft skin. Your brain told you to push him away, but a strange feeling was overcoming your body as his hands moved to your hips. You could feel a hard bulge under his trousers as he began to move your hips, pushing your core onto his clothed cock. You moaned at the friction, his bulge rubbing perfectly against your clit sending shock waves up your body.

Soon you felt your hips begin to buck and move of their own accord. You felt his smirk against your skin as his hands moved to your tits. You gasped when he pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers making you moan. “Oh god,” you couldn’t help the moan that slipped out when he took one into his mouth, sucking on the perked bud.

You weren’t sure what had come over you, but you felt a knot tightening in your stomach, your moans growing louder as you took the gods in vain at the top of your lungs. You felt your peak hit you like a boulder before you slumped into Jace’s chest.

He moved to kiss your cheek with a chuckle. “Not even fucked you yet and look at you,” Jace said, slipping his hand down to rub against your sensitive core making your body lurch, “So wet for me,” he praised, his hand moving to unlace his trousers. “Can’t wait to see what my cock does to you,”

Before you could protest you felt his tip pressing into your entrance. You gasped, your hands moving to grab his shoulders, “Aw,” Jace pouted, “Does it hurt?” he mocked, pushing you down further, “Too fucking bad,” he practically growled as he used your hips to push you all the way down.

You almost screamed at the feeling, as if you were being split in half but Jace groaned, throwing his head back against the wall as you felt his cock twitch inside you, “Fuck you’re so tight,” he praised, giving you a moment to adjust. Your hips betrayed you again, moving without your mind thinking making him chuckle.

“Such a desperate little thing,” Jace mocked, grabbing your jaw as you tried to move away. His thumb ran over your bottom lip before using it to pry your mouth open, resting it on your tongue, “Good girl,” he praised, his free hand moving your hips.

“Fuck,” you gasped as you felt him hit all the right spots. You gave up trying to resit as your hips began to grind onto his cock.

Jace’s hands moved to your hair, grabbing it suddenly and pulling it back so he could have full access to your neck. You were sure by the way he kissed it there would be marks tomorrow but that didn’t matter now. Your hands went to his hair, tugging it softly making him growl against your skin.

His free hand went to your ass, grabbing it tightly before suddenly leaving stinging slaps against the soft flesh. You could feel your second peak fast approaching and when Jace moved to run quick circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves you felt your cunt squeeze around him as it came crashing down again.

“Fuck,” Jace mumbled, a stream of profanity tumbling from his lips as his hands moved to your hips so he could fuck you through your orgasm, “You feel so good,” he praised, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

You felt yourself coming down from your high and his movements began to slow, “Don’t stop Jace. Please gods don’t stop,” you began to beg, and you could feel his smirk.

“Begging suits you,” he teased, grabbing your jaw so he could make you face him, “You look so good right now. So drunk on my cock. Is that it?”

“Yes,” you whined, “I need you please,”

“Aw my poor baby,” he teased, “So desperate for her king,”

“Yes,” you weren’t even thinking any longer, and a spark ignited behind his eyes, “Need you. Want you my king,” you moaned.

Jace grabbed your hips tightly, standing suddenly before turning as you back slammed against the wall. You winced until you felt his hips begin to snap up against yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him tight against you. This new angle had him hitting newer spots that had your legs wrapping tight around him.

“So good,” Jace mumbled against your skin as you felt a third orgasm approaching, “My perfect little wife,” his words sent you tumbling over the edge.

Jace couldn’t resist anymore as your cunt squeezed around his cock and with a couple more pumps, he began to spill his seed. His thrusts became slow as he rode out his own peak, fucking his seed deep inside you. You were both panting as he pulled out, his forehead resting against yours as your feet finally hit the ground again.

“I always knew you had a dark side in you,” Jace chuckled as he pulled away.

“Tell anyone and I’ll kill you in your sleep, husband,” you threatened but the last word made him smile. Maybe this was a good trade after all.

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[theereina]

Let Me Talk

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +2.4K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, anxiety mentioned, childhood trauma mentioned, angst, heartbreak, fluff, a smidge of dirty talk

A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels unless requested.🤨

A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @theereina. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

It had been four months since I had seen Terry. There was little to no contact besides short phone conversations and quick texts. I would be lying if I said I didn't miss him. It was the little things that made it hard to forget him. The way he always smelled of sandalwood and musk. The way he held my hand when I was anxious. The way his smile lit up a room. The way every shirt he owned molded to his body like a glove. Ugh, I gotta stop.

I wanted nothing more than for him to return home to me, but pride got in the way. Not only for him but for me, too. We were equally as stubborn and stuck in our ways, unyielding to the love we shared. Being right somehow mattered more to each of us— more than a good morning kiss, a massage after a long day, the vows of our marriage.

Letting pride hinder our judgment, I told Terry to leave and not come back. Truthfully, I didn't want him to, I was just angry and tired of fighting. So, when he left without a fight, it reminded me too much of my abandonment trauma. Watching him walk out that door tore me apart. I was once again a five-year-old girl watching her father leave for the last time, never to return. The power Terry held over me in that moment was only a fraction of the hurt I felt. It was like the world around me shattered. With him, Terry took both light and love while I fell further into darkness more and more each day.

In other words, Terry and I couldn't comprehend that we could both be right even with two different perspectives. The basis of the problem as trifling as it seemed was an ugly nuanced one. Unfortunately, Terry was raised by his parents while I had to survive mine. This understanding is what caused the biggest fight we had ever had. No matter how much I explained it, Terry couldn't understand why I did things the way I did.

For context, I have had no contact with my family since I left home after college. I didn't talk to my sisters, brother, stepfather, and definitely not my mother. Terry's nurturing and supportive upbringing made him less receptive to the dysfunction that came with mine. He couldn't fathom not speaking to his family, let alone his mother, for years. So, when he brought up the idea of me reconnecting with them, it was a shock. The first time he asked I reminded him that I had my reasons— he only knew some. The second time I admired his persistence but still declined the offer. However, after the fifth or sixth time, I was fed up. I wanted him to understand how much these people collectively hurt and drained me. After days of explaining and retelling the story, he responded with annoyance— calling me childish and bitter.

Damn right, I was! I had taken care of every single one of them for years. I had put my health on the back burner to ensure they were good. I had stretched myself thin to the point of almost being hospitalized for a mental breakdown. No one other than my mom came, but we all know her true reason for coming— to save face. Considering she never believed or accepted my mental health issues, she just complained the whole time I was in the waiting room. This is the type of stuff I dealt with from them. This lack of care, kindness, appreciation, and love is why I left as soon as I was financially stable enough.

Even after talking about this for days, the only thing I was left with was a heavy heart and teary eyes. The more Terry pressed; the more distant I became. I didn't want it to get this far or this bad, but he wouldn't let it go. His mind was already made up. To him, family is family, and we should forgive them no matter what. Unfortunately, that wasn't and would never be my reality.

Present Day

“Caramel cookie butter iced coffee and a regular hot coffee for… Fallon!” yelled the barista from behind the counter. “That's me,” I said, facing the small woman. “Here you go. Enjoy,” she said, smiling and pushing the drinks toward me. I checked the sticker on the regular coffee to see if they remembered the two sugars. I picked up both drinks and searched for an empty table in the back of the coffee shop. I knew this conversation would result in both of us or at least me ugly crying.

I slid into a booth in the far back corner of the shop, facing the door. I knew that if it became too overwhelming for me, seeing the door would provide a certain level of relief— an exit or escape if needed. Immediately upon sitting, I began to remember some of the memories I and Terry shared here. This quickly became our favorite spot. Plus, it was right down the street from our shared home. Terry would come here almost every Monday and Friday morning to pick up my current favorite drink order. He called it a treat to start the week and a reward for finishing.

This is also the place where we had our first conversation about marriage. I can almost remember Terry's face when I told him I never thought about being married— until I met him. I didn't believe anyone could love me, especially a man of Terry's caliber. I felt like damaged goods that would never be good enough for him or anyone else. So, I never planned for that milestone. Terry's presence in my life felt like a reassuring message from God that I was loved and deserved it— properly.

Oh, God! Not me already crying, and he hasn't even made it. I quickly used one of the napkins to dab my eyes. Taking deep breaths and relaxing my shoulders, I tried my hardest not to get lost in my thoughts. I knew that once I let myself be sucked into that abysmal cycle I would be trapped there before even a word was spoken between us.

I leaned back into the booth, watching the door. Terry wasn't late; I was just extremely early. I needed to prepare myself as much as possible before seeing him.

10 minutes later

ding ding

“Good morning! Welcome to the Coffee Cabin,” yelled the woman from behind the counter. “Hey, good morning,” said a familiar voice. I knew exactly who this was yet my heart refused to settle down. I didn't know how my mind and body would react to seeing him face-to-face for the first time in months. My hands were sweating profusely. How the fuck was I going to make it through this?

“Pumpkin?” Terry said, sitting across from me. “Uh,… Hi,” I said struggling to breathe. “Hey, mama. Look at me. Fallon!” Terry said, leaning over the table and lifting my chin. I looked up to see Terry glaring back at me. Those striking green eyes expressed his concern. His eyes spoke before his mouth could. There was no need to voice his worry.

“Terry, please,” I said, holding his hand. “Don't do that. Just tell me what's wrong,” he said pulling my hand to his lips. “This! What the hell are we doing right now? It's like we aren't even married. I don't…” I rambled. “Pumpkin,” Terry said, trying to stop me. “We aren't living…” I continued. “Pumpkin,” Terry said, gripping my hand. “I don't know what to do with myself half the time. It's…,” I said. “Pumpkin, enough! Stop!” he cried out. I could sense his frustration with my rambling. I hadn't stopped talking since he sat down. “Terry, I'm just trying…,” I said trying to continue. “No. Stop it! This isn't how this was supposed to go. Let…me…talk,” he grunted.

I pulled my hand away and placed it back into my lap. I dropped my head in embarrassment. I hadn't even made it one minute before making a fool of myself. “Listen, I love you. I know you are feeling anxious right now. We both have a lot to say, and that's okay. But before we can continue, I need you to relax, love. Okay?” he said, caressing my cheek. I shook my head, looking back up at him. “I'm sorry. This is hard,” I said. “I know, mama. I know,” he said, wiping away a single fallen tear.

“C’mere,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me up from my seat. “Terry, I…!” I said, trying to pull away from him. “Nah, come to me, Pumpkin,” he said while wrapping his arms around me. It was as if life itself had started again. Terry's embrace broke me in the gentlest way possible. His body swallowed mine, providing me with the comfort I had been craving for months. I missed this man and everything about him.

“I'm sorry. I…,” I said, sniffling into Terry's chest. “Shhh, stop apologizing. I don't need you to apologize. I need you to let me— let me love you, let me take care of you, let me come home,” he said, tilting my chin up to meet his eyes. He leaned down and kissed me on the lips. I had never felt so much relief in my life. A single kiss had just washed away all the pain and guilt I had carried for these last four months.

“I don't know what to say. I had all these… these… speeches planned in my head. Just for me to remember nothing,” I said leaning further into Terry. “That's fine. Let me talk, you just listen. Turn your brain off for a minute and relax. Aight?” he said, releasing me from his hold. His hands held onto the sides of my face. He was awaiting an answer, but words were escaping me. Too many thoughts were fighting to claim power over my tongue.

“Turn it off, lil’ mama. Okay? Sit back down for me,” he said, gesturing towards my seat. His hand waved back towards the booth as I slid back in. Terry sat back down in front of me. He reached for my hands and pulled them towards him. It's insane how something as simple as Terry holding my hands made me feel lighter and calmer. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “There you go. Thank you, Pumpkin,” he said while stroking the back of my hands.

“Listen to me, okay? I should have never pressed you so hard about what was going on. Your boundaries were clear. I can see that now and wish I could have seen that then. These last four months have been absolute hell in the most silent way possible. I let my perspective overshadow yours when this was your experience— your reality, not mine. I won't sit here and lie to you like I'll ever understand how you feel. I won't. However, as your husband, it was my job to console you…. and… and care for you. I failed you at that moment. I don't deserve your immediate forgiveness, and I will do whatever you ask to receive it. I… uh… I left you to deal with all those emotions alone when it was my fault that you had to relive it in the first place. I was forcing you to see things my way because I thought I knew what was best for you based on my… my experience. You didn't deserve that. You deserved so much more than I gave you at that moment, and for that, I'm sorry. Sorry for how I handled the situation entirely. From this day forward, I promise to be a better man to you— a better husband. You deserve the world, mama. I love you more than life itself. Please, forgive me. Please,” he pleaded.

By this point, I was sobbing. I didn't need to say a word. I jumped up from my seat and ran around to Terry's side. There was nothing I wanted more than him— all of him. I sat in his lap and held his face in my hands. “Of course, I forgive you. I love you, too. I don't know what to say. Fuck… just… just kiss me already, papa,” I said, looking into Terry's eyes. They were the softest they had been in a while.

Terry’s urge was just as strong as mine as he pulled me in to kiss him on the lips. But, I needed more; so I used my tongue to part his lips. Terry's mouth opened, and I could feel his energy shift. The desire in him ignited like a flame. The yearning was mutually shared. His hands roamed wildly as teeth met tongue. Neither one of us cared that we were in public. Sharing breath and body, we became one again. With passion burning in our bellies, Terry pulled away first. I looked at him to be met with a pained gaze filled with a desperate hunger for something else.

“Pumpkin, I think we should leave. Um… the thoughts that are… uhh, shit… Woman the things I want to do to you have no business being viewed by the public eye,” he said, catching his breath. His chest rose and fell rapidly with every word. “Yeah?” I asked, stroking his ear and swallowing hard. My breathing was equally just as harsh.

Terry's gaze lingered over my body. “Yeah, we need to leave. Now!” he said, guiding me with his hands on my hips. “Did you drive or walk?” he asked, making me face him. “Walked,” I answered softly. “Okay. I drove. Unfortunately for you, you gettin’ in a car with me, and I can't promise to keep my hands to myself. Honestly, we probably not makin’ it home,” he said while leaning down to whisper in my ear. “Oh, fuck… Don't say stuff like that,” I said, clenching my thighs together. “You wanted honesty, mama. Hell, we should put that extended cab to good use for once,” Terry said, his lip curling up into the most sinful smirk. “You're nasty,” I said, hitting him in the chest. “Yea, and? You love it!” he said, pulling me into another kiss.

Part 2 => 🗣

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[eufezco]

UNNOTICED – JOEL MILLER x SHE/HER!READER

SUMMARY – You said something to Joel while he was sleeping that didn't go unnoticed.

she/her!reader || pure fluff + english isn't my first language <3

Ellie passed by you and Joel and went inside, looking for something that you could use to lay Joel down. The man was using his last strengths to not give up in your arms and to keep walking until you both got to the house. One of your arms was around his body, your other one was holding the one he had around your shoulders so he could lay his weight on you until you both tripped and fell into the snow.

“No, no, no. Joel, come on, please.“ You tried to help him up again, but he was so tired and the wound on his stomach was dripping blood on the snow under you two. He raised his head and looked at you. He had to help you. You looked back at him with your eyebrows raised, begging him with no words to please help you. But he couldn't do it anymore. When you saw that he was giving up, you decided to shout Ellie’s name for her to come to your help. You and the girl managed to get Joel inside the house and helped him to lay down on a mattress to finally see what his wound looked like.

“Oh, shit-” Ellie gasped when she lifted up his shirt. Your heart felt heavy inside your chest and for a moment you could feel it beating in your throat. You shook your head, coming back to your senses. Ellie already had time to react. Her hands were pressing a cloth to his abdomen and Joel was groaning in pain, complaining even more when you put your hands on the cloth over his wound as well.

“Leave.“ Joel mumbled. You shook your head, still applying pressure to his nonstopping bleeding wound and not realizing that he was not talking to you. “Leave. Take the gun.” He repeated and grabbed Ellie by the neck of her coat and pulled her closer to him. You looked at him confused, still shaking your head, not believing what he was asking both of you to do. You still seemed to not understand that you had no say in this.

“No, no, no.“ You tried to make him stop talking, but it was like you weren’t there for him. Ellie looked at you, scared and not knowing what to say to Joel but he pulled from her clothes tighter to keep her attention on him. It was going to be easier this way. Ellie and Joel were the rational ones, they know shit happens and that life is not fair, but out of you three, you were the emotional one. You were the one that spent almost two hours locked in the bathroom of Bill and Frank’s house after you found out that they were dead, you were the one that went a whole day without talking after seeing Henry kill himself and his brother in front of you.

“You go and you take her with you. You both go north. You go to Tommy.“ Joel ordered and pushed Ellie away from him, making the girl fall on her ass.

“No. We are not going to do any of that. There’s no way we’re leaving you here.” You told Ellie while using the cuffs of your jacket to wipe away your tears. The girl was not paying attention to you anymore, she was looking at Joel, and Joel was looking at her. Like you, she couldn’t believe what Joel was asking her to do. Ellie stood up, the anger clearly visible on her face as her eyes did not move from Joel's. If that’s what he wanted, he would get it.

“No- Ellie, no!“ Her footsteps were loud as she disappeared up the stairs. “Why did you ask her to do that, huh?! What makes you think that I’m leaving you here?!” You yelled at him and got closer to his face, clutching his jacket in your fists. He couldn’t say anything else, his strengths were all gone to fight with you. His lips trembled while he looked at you out of the corner of his eye and Joel wished to die at that moment so that the last thing he saw was you. Even though if you had tears running down your face and you hated him for asking Ellie and you to leave him to die. You finally released the grip on his jacket as you gasped a ‘fuck’ and covered your face with your hands, trying to think clearly.

“Okay, let me see.” You got on your knees by his side and took his hands to remove them from the cloth covering his wound. Joel let your small hands compared to his cup his big ones before he linked your fingers together and caressed your skin with his thumb. Tears threatened to flow from your eyes again but instead of letting yourself cry in front of him again, you caressed his hand back. 

“Shit... okay- Use this one.” You grabbed a “clean” cloth and changed it for the already soaked-in-blood one. You heard upstairs the drawers being slammed shut and the frustrated sounds Ellie was making. Deep down you knew she would no leave but seeing her so determinate when she went upstairs really made you doubt.

You helped him to press the fabric into his wound. He was mesmerized looking at you while you talked to him with a soft voice trying to keep him awake. Ellie finally came back and it was as if you were seeing an angel carrying in her sweet little hands a needle and thread. You sighed and some tears streamed down your cheeks because of the relief. You were quick to wipe them off as you allowed Ellie to peel the fabric from his belly. You moved closer to his face and caressed his forehead.

"I know it's gonna hurt but you gotta hang in there, okay?" Joel looked at you with his lips parted and a single tear rolling down his cheek. You were quick to capture it with your finger.

Joel turned his head to you, his neck tensed and his eyes closed shut. Ellie wasn’t enjoying this either, she was biting her lower lip trying to control the trembling of her hands so as not to hurt him more. You held his free hand. His other one was squeezing firmly the girl’s jacket. You rested your forehead against his, “It’s gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay.”

He spent the rest of the day sleeping. Ellie and you never left his side, maybe because of the state of shock in which you were still in. You were ready in case something happened to Ellie, Joel would know what to do, and Ellie was prepared in case something happened to you because he would be there to take care of it. But none of you two were prepared for something like this to happen to him, it had caught you totally off guard. Each of you were seated at one end of the room, both of you hugging your legs. You couldn’t seem to take your eyes off Joel’s chest, making sure that he was still breathing. On the other hand, Ellie was staring at a fixed point. It was exasperating for you both not knowing what the other one was thinking but the lumps in your throats did not allow you to put it into words.

The next day you and Ellie shared the last bit of food you had left and decided to save some for him in case he woke up. You put your fingers inside the glass of water and let them wet Joel’s lips. Ellie checked his wound but it was starting to look even worse. The girl rested her head on your shoulder to have some rest and yours fell on top of hers. Ellie decided to go hunting, leaving you alone with Joel. You checked his temperature by pressing the back of your hand against his forehead and noticed that he was a little hot, so you decided to snuggle up next to him in case the blanket was not doing enough. You placed your head on his chest, feeling it slowly raise and fall, and you hugged his body against yours.

 “I’m lost without you, I don’t know what to do, I don’t know where to go- I can’t do this without you, Joel. I can’t- I can’t lose you. I'm not ready to lose you, please." You lifted your head to look at his sleeping face and you let out a sigh. His expression was peaceful, at least he was not in pain while he was unconscious. His lips were still wet from the water you applied to them before. This was probably so wrong but as much as you didn't like to think about it, you didn't know if he was going to recover from this. His wound was getting worse every day, what if this was the only chance you had? You stroked the hair growing on his cheeks and you moved your mouth closer to his. God, he was even prettier from there. "I love you." You whispered against his lips and pressed yours to his. You fell asleep on his chest until Ellie arrived with two bottles of penicillin and a syringe.

He was different since he woke up. Maybe he thought he needed to be different after everything that happened with David. You liked the grumpy Joel, but you liked this version of him even more. He had been so talkative since he got better, he even mentioned his daughter Sarah a couple of times which was a surprise to you because you saw how Joel reacted when Ellie mentioned his daughter back in Jackson. You asked some questions about her because you noticed how his eyes sparkled every time he talked about his girl. She would’ve loved you, Joel said to you and you almost fell to your knees because of how that made you feel. Sarah still was the most important person to Joel, and him telling you that felt like the best of compliments.

Ellie ran after the giraffe when it left.

“We should go with her.“ Joel said and you nodded, agreeing with him and with a little smile on your lips thanks to the girl being so excited over the animal. Joel looked at you out of the corner of his eye, your eyes were on where the girl had left. The man threw his rifle over his shoulder, ready to go once you caught him staring at you. You looked down, your cheeks getting warm as you walked by his side.

“I heard you.“

“Huh?“

“I heard you talking to me while I was sleeping.“

“Oh.. I don’t- I can’t even remember what I said, I was probably freaking out because I thought you were gonna die, so...“

Joel nodded, pressing his lips together, a sign that he was not believing what you were saying. “I also was conscious when you kissed me.” 

Was it better to deny it and make him think he was going crazy or should you face it? “I'm sorry, I should’ve never done that-”

“I liked it.“ Joel said and you raised your eyebrows. “I mean- I liked you doing that, it’s not like I remember much about it.”

“Oh.“ You said surprised. “Oh.” You repeated again after realizing. You didn’t expect Joel to get angry over a little kiss but you also didn’t expect him to confess that he liked it, much less that he knew that you kissed him.

"I also heard what you said." Joel repeated.

"I really don't know what you're talking about."

"You told me you loved me-"

"Okay, that's enough." You shook your head, annoyed that he was being so insistent about it. You started walking, leaving Joel standing there when he grabbed your arm. He was far from finishing the conversation.

"So you're okay with kissing while unconscious but you draw the line at saying I love you?"

"I told you that I'm sorry!"

"And I told you that you don't have to be."

“Then why do you keep insisting, Joel?“

“Because I know it's not something you said just for the sake of saying it. It’s not because I was dying.”

You narrowed your eyes. With a sharp movement you managed to get rid of his grip on your arm, not in an angry way but in a you got me way. You didn’t like Joel reading you like that, it was as if he could see what was going on behind your eyes, what your head was scheming but most dangerous what you were feeling, and when you were lying. “Have you always been this cocky? Or is it because you've had a near-death experience?”

“Has it always been so difficult for you to accept your feelings?”

“Actually, yes.“

“Even when they are reciprocated?“

“Yes.“

“Wow. You got some serious issues going on there, huh.“ Joel said ans slowly took a few steps towards you.

“You just told me that you liked me kissing you.“

“Is it not enough?“ He was getting closer and closer and you did not want to move away from him.

“No, it’s not. I-“

“You want me to say I love you too?“

You nodded and swallowed nervously. You were the cutest. Joel smiled and held your chin using his thumb and index finger. “I'm not going to ask for your permission either, is that okay?” You nodded to his question, feeling his hot breath against your lips and a tight knot forming in the lower part of your belly. You wanted to complain again and told him that you already apologized for that but his cute way of asking for your consent without asking for it had you wishing for the distance between the two of you to disappear. 

Joel finally crushed his lips with yours. If he was honest, he was a little worried that he had forgotten how to kiss after all these years, but just your lips against him, one of your hands resting on his chest and his big one cupping your cheek felt good enough. Also, you didn’t even have the chance to go any further than that because Ellie appeared, spouting the harshest words out of her mouth once she realized what was going on.

[babydollitzel]

can you do a fic where ponyboy is paired up with his crush for a project who he is like obsessed with and she's so so beautiful and everyone knows it and they go to his house to work on it and the whole gang is there and they tease him, then they go to his room to work but end up making out and Darry barges in and flips out and the gang has a field day teasing him

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐲

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Ponyboy Curtis x soc!reader

warnings/extra; making out but it barely is

It was a nice day in Tulsa, you could hear the usual birds chirping and soft rustling of leaves. You were currently on your way to Ponyboy’s house.

You had to admit you were being slightly wary while on your way to the east side of town, where all the greasers roamed. You were a pretty soc girl, so quite literally anything could go wrong, but you’d rather go to Ponyboy’s house than him come to yours, not wanting him to get jumped by the socs again after seeing that cut under his chin.

Earlier that day your teacher had partnered you and Ponyboy for a project. You always thought he was cute, from his unusual name to his overly greased hair. And you knew he felt the same towards you, the poor boy was painfully obvious.

It was almost as if he was obsessed with you, sure he’s had crushes on other girls before, but he’d never really spent time in his room writing poems that he’d never give to them or doodle their name on his worksheets like he did with you. But of course, everyone teased him for it, especially the gang.

You decided that this would be your chance to make a move, you knew he liked you, and you liked him too, so you for sure were going to do it. As you arrived at the Curtis house you softly knocked on the door a couple of times, patiently waiting for someone to open the door.

You looked up once you saw the door being opened, you locked eyes with Ponyboy. It was as if he was waiting for you. You gave him a sweet smile “Hey Ponyboy”

“Hey, c’mon in” He said, trying to act casual, even though the giddiness in his voice was painfully obvious. He stared at you for a few moments, not believing that you were actually at his house, before moving aside to let you in. As you walked inside he closed the door behind him.

As you walked into the house you spotted some of Pony’s friends along with his brother Sodapop, most of them were too busy talking and laughing to notice you two, but others like Dallas and Two-bit made some teasing remarks. This made Ponyboy wanna make a rush to his room before you could hear.

“We can work on it in my room, c’mon..” He said as he walked you both down the hall to the small room he shared with his brother Sodapop. As you got to his room you sat at the edge of the bed while he sat at his desk. “So..have you come up with any ideas for the project?” You asked as you looked around his room. “Uh..not yet” How was he supposed to admit he couldn’t come up with anything anyway because he was too busy anticipating your arrival?

“That’s alright we’ll come up with something, we have about a week anyway” You wanted to make some small talk before actually initiating anything, but now that you’ve had your fair share of words, you began to go for it.

You leaned off the edge of the bed a bit and got closer. “Ponyboy, can I ask you a question?” You said in a sweet tone, your faces not too far from eachother. The closeness made him fairly nervous, but he tried to keep his cool. “Uh, yeah sure, what is it?”

“Can I kiss you?” You knew he would say yes, it was obvious he liked you, so it’s not like he would say no. You basically had him right where you wanted him. When you asked that he was surprised, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. As he replied his eyes darted to your lips. “Yeah..yeah you can”

You had gotten all the confidence you needed, you pressed your soft lips against his. He leaned closer from his place at his desk, the kiss was gentle yet passionate. He put his hand on your waist and gently rubbed the clothed skin as you put your hand on his shoulder. The make out session went on for a while until you heard the sound of a couple of roudy boys followed by the swing of a door.

It was Ponyboy’s intimidating older brother Darry and the whole gang. You and Ponyboy quickly pulled away as you saw the stern look on Darry’s face and sly ones on everybody else’s. Two-bit was the first to speak. “Well..what’s going on here?” He said with a goofy sounding chuckle. You could hear the others hooting and hollering at Pony as well. Ponyboy rolled his eyes a bit as you just sat there slightly nervous.

“Ponyboy, I thought you said you’d be working on a project?”, said Darry. “We were we’re just taking a little break..” Ponyboy mumbled sheepishly, and annoyed since the gang walked in on you two. “Yeah yeah whatever you say loverboy..” Dallas said as him and the rest of the guys started walking away, Darry speaking up before leaving.

“When I come back I best see you two working.” Darry said with a shake of his head and shut of the door. It got silent in the room until Ponyboy spoke up, “so where were we?” You laughed softly and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, the both of you knowing there’d be no work getting done.

[tpwk-formula1]

Hiii, could i order a Thin Crust with Red Sauce with Pepperoni, Green Peppers, Gouda Cheese, Parmesan Cheese and to drink an Boba, Coke, Mt. Dew (sub) and Root Beer with desert served by Lewis and Max <3

Pleasee thanks!!

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

thin crust brother's best friend red sauce rough sex pepperoni "Be a good girl, and you'll get what you want" green peppers "I'm gonna have that ass glowing red by the time I'm done with you" gouda “Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl” parmesan "Awe... did that hurt? Tuff luck I'm gonna do it again" boba anal coke spanking mt dew dom/sub root beer daddy kink dessert yes served by Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton

Max x Lewis x Norris! Reader

TW - fighting, slight daddy kink, rough, spanking, multiple orgasms, anal, double penetration, creampie, and anal creampie (is there another name for an anal creampie?)

WC 2500+

Y/N POV

"Max please leave me alone about it," I snap at one of my boyfriends after he had been complaining about the same thing for the past hour.

"I love you to death but you're complaining about my brother. I will not pick sides between you guys," I add on softly when Max just looked at my with a raised brow.

"I understand that and I'm not even upset with your brother he had a great race I'm mad about the car I've been fucking given," Max tells me back making me nod my head.

"I understand that, but you have to see it from my perspective. I love you both and I want both of you to do well and I'm sorry your car is actually shit but I don't like that you make me feel guilty for being happy for my brother," I explain back knowing this has been needing to be a conversation for awhile. Max, Lewis, and I have all been together for the past year and a half, this year specifically Max and I have been at each other's throats because being Lando Norris's twin sister has made it really interesting when he's doing really good but I also have to be supportive of my boyfriends who were starting to struggle a bit this season.

"Are you fucking kidding me? I make you feel guilty for being happy for Lando? You make me feel like shit everytime I talk about having a bad race and I can see it on your face it's like you don't even care because you brother did good," Max snaps back making me look at him with a dead stare.

"Max, I'm really sorry if I made you feel like that. It was never once my intention," I tell him softly wanting him to know I value his feelings even if I don't feel like he's even think about mine in this moment.

"It's whatever, I knew you would always have more loyalty to Lando anyways," Max says completely disregarding it like it was nothing.

"I think we just need to be seperated until Lewis gets home," I tells him softly while getting up from the couch and making my way into our shared room where I find Sassy and Rosco cuddling on the bed.

I climbed into the bed with them and fall asleep into a short nap wanting to forget this whole afternoon.

"I heard you and Max got into a fight," I hear Lewis say softly while rubbing my back to wake me up.

"He's been making me feel bad for being happy for my brother, and I've been making him feel bad because I'm happy for my brother. It's a lose lose and I want this whole season to just be over. Hope he gets the fucking Driver Championship and I never have to talk about this season again," I mumble making Lewis chuckle softly.

"I think you guys need to talk it out," Lewis tells me making me nod my head in agreeance.

"I'll go get him," Lewis tells me softly while leaving the room to get Max who was in the sim room passing time.

When they got back into the room I could see the frustration still lingering in Max's eye making me sit up a bit more ready for a serious conversation.

"Okay, let me just start with I think both of you have a right to feel the way you feel. Max you make her feel bad about being happy for Lando. She is allowed to be excited to see him win and support him in his fight for his first title. Just because she is extremely happy for her brother doesn't mean she wants you to lose either. She's in a tough spot. However, Y/N Max has every right to feel slightly hurt watching you go into the Mclaren garage after your brother had a good race while he struggled. It's selfish yes but he's allowed to wish his girlfriend was in his room comforting him," Lewis states making me grow frustrated.

"See, you said it yourself. It's fucking selfish is what Max is. I try to be there for him but everytime I am he's always shit talking my brother, and I get it, it's post race frustration coming out however I won't stand for that. Back in Baku when Lando finished 4th and you 5th I didn't even want to be in the same room as you when I heard you telling Lewis that being overtaken by Lando who started P15 was one of the most embarrassing moments in your career," I rant clearly getting frustrated with everything.

"Oh boo fucking hoo, grow up Y/N. You knew getting into this relationship it would be like this. I'm not gonna apologize for the things I say in the heat of the moment. I'm allowed to be mad and upset," Max says making me throw my hands up in defeat.

"Maybe I should go stay somewhere else for the night," I say softly while climbing out of bed to prepare a bag.

"That won't be necessary love, we can work this out," Lewis says softly following me into the closet.

"He's impossible right now, he's hurt I don't get to only be a fan of him. He has to share me with you and my brother. I get it, I would be frustrated too but I will not apologize for being happy for him," I tell Lewis softly making him pull me in for a hug.

"It'll work itself out," Lewis tells me softly.

"Go get back in bed," Lewis continues making me groan but slowly go back into our shared room and into bed next to Max who had Jimmy in his lap.

"Both of you need to fuck it out or fight it out, but neither one are leaving until you guys can come to an understanding. I don't give a fuck what it is but I will not let either of you leave until something is resolved. You guys have been fighting nonstop since before summer break and it's time to set aside differences," Lewis tells us while softly picking Jimmy up and placing him outside the room while making sure the other pets where out of the room as well.

"I'll start," I say softly making Max scoff and roll his eyes.

"You always fucking start," Max says clearly annoyed with everything.

"Cut the shit out Max or I'm gonna have that ass glowing red by the time I'm done with you," Lewis says clearly getting frustrated with Max.

"You can start," I tell him making him sit in silence for a few minutes.

"I don't know, I think Lewis is right, I am selfish and a part of me wishes that you can be a fan of me and only a fan of me. I don't even like seeing you walk around in Mercedes merch let alone fucking McLaren stuff. There's days where I wish you could just be a fan of me," Max explains softly making me smile lightly. It was the most mature conversation we had been able to have about this.

"I can understand that. I wouldn't like seeing you repping another team if I was a driver, however I wish you could see it how I do. I love you more than just about anyone in this world but that doesn't mean I don't love my brother and want to support him too. I think I have an idea," I explain to Max before thinking of a plan.

"What if when we come back next month in Austin I spent the whole weekend only wearing Max or Redbull things. I will of course still visit my brother and Lewis in their respective garage but I will only wear stuff for you the whole weekend, and then maybe next season we pick a day of the race schedule that I only wear Redbull things," I tell Max softly making his face light up at the thought of only wearing Redbull for a weekend.

"I would like that," Max says after a moment of thought.

"Can we please stop fighting about this? Whatever happens at the end of this season win or lose you and Lewis will still be my number 1s," I tell Max making him nod his head softly.

"Yes, and if we have further issues we talk it out with each other and not put Lewis in the middle of things," Max agrees and further comes up with a plan making me smile and nod my head.

"I love you Max Emillian," I say softly making Max groan at the use of his middle name.

"I love you too Y/N YM/N," Max replies back making me smile softly. I lean over to Max and pull him in for a kiss that quickly turns heated as he pulls me into his lap and lets me start grinding against him.

"I've missed you," I tell Max softly knowing that this season we have been so at odds that we haven't been nearly as close with each other as previous years.

"I've missed this," Max says with a groan leaving his voice when I start grinding down harder into him.

"You horny boy," I joke making both Max and Lewis laugh softly reminding me that Lewis was still in the room with us.

I turn my gaze to him to show him that I want him to join. When Lewis quickly climbs into bed with us my lips are on his within moments before he moves his lips down to Max's pulling him in for a heated makeout.

I start grinding into Max's lap a bit harder while begging for more.

"Be a good girl, and you'll get what you want," Lewis groans against Max's lips before pulling me in for another kiss.

Lewis drags me off of Max's lap and strips me down to nothing before pushing me onto all fours where he starts laying harsh slaps on my ass.

"Daddy, Why," I whine out when I feel the spanks become progressively harder, leaving me to become a whimpering mess.

"You know that you're not allowed to leave in a fight. We agreed we would talk everything out. I'm gonna give you 10 more and I want you to count them out," Lewis said making me whine in retaliation.

"1" I call out softly when the first one lands on my right cheek.

""5" I gasp out after Lewis lands 4 hard spanks on my left cheek all landing in the same spot."

"It hurts," I cry out trying to shift my hips away only making Lewis grip onto them tighter to keep me in place.

"Awe... did that hurt? Tuff luck I'm gonna do it again," Lewis teased before landing another spank.

"6" I cry out when I feel another really hard one in the same spot. I'm only 6 in and I'm already a sobbing mess under Lewis.

"10" I gasp out after Lewis landed another 4 all in the same spot on my right ass cheek.

"Why did I punish you?" Lewis questions while pulling me up to his chest while he softly rubs my ass to soothe it.

"Because I got up and started packing a bag even though we agreed that I can't leave in the middle of a fight," I hiccup out into Lewis's chest still slightly crying from the pain my ass had endured.

The no leaving in a fight became a rule after our first fight when I just left the apartment mid-fight because I didn't know how to express myself properly and I became anxious when we fought. When I finally came back Max had tears streaming down his face and was fighting Lewis to report me as a missing person. After that, we had a long tough conversation about how we would be moving forward.

Max pulls me back up into his lap already stripped into nothing before easily sliding into me making me whimper. Lewis climbed behind me teasing my ass with a bit of cold lube before sinking 2 fingers into my ass to make sure I was stretched enough to take his cock.

"Fuck, Daddy," I whimper when Lewis pull his fingers out before shoving the tip of his cock into my ass making me scream out at the stretch of having 2 cocks filling me up.

"Oh my god," I moan out when Lewis starts pushing his thick cock into my tight ass.

Once Lewis was all the way into my ass both of the boys gave me a few seconds to adjust to the stretch but started thrusting into me when I started grinding my hips showing them that I was ready for more stimulation.

"Faster, please," I beg before leaning down and capturing Max's lips with mine while both boys instantly sped up throwing me over the edge and into a loud shakey orgasm.

Even once I had come down from my massive orgasm neither one of the boys slowed down leaving me to become a mess in their laps. I was shaking me moaning trying to get away which only made Lewis's grip on my hips tighten.

"Slower please," I gasp when I finally find my voice.

“Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl,” Max scoffs showing no clear signs of slowing down.

"Fuck," I moan when I feel myself starting to build to another orgasm.

"Look so pretty when you cry," Max says with a smirk making me whine slightly.

"God, she's gonna cum for us again," Lewis gasps when he feels my ass clenching around him in preparation for another orgasm.

"Cum for us," Max groans before pulling me down for another kiss making me scream into his mouth when I start cumming all over their cocks.

I could tell Max was cumming from the way his grunts turned into higher-pitched whines while his hips faltered slightly while filling me up.

Lewis wasn't too far behind sending one final harsh thrust before he was filling my ass up with his hot cum.

Once the three of us have come down from our highs the boys slowly slip out of my abused holes letting their cum leak and start to pool on the bedspread.

Lewis was the first to get out of bed grabbing a towel and some cooling lotion. He cleaned both Max and I up first before softly rubbing the lotion on my ass to help it cool down after the brutal assault Lewis gave me with his heavy hand.

Once the room was picked up a bit and Max and I were clothed and comfortably in each other's arms Lewis opened the door letting all three of our fur babies into the room. Sassy and Jimmy instantly crawled onto Max's lap while Sassy nudged my hand with her head clearly wanting some attention before Rosco and Lewis followed and comfortably got into bed with us. Rosco had found his way to me before he made himself comfortable on top of me making Lewis laugh and shake his head.

"The guy loves you more than he had ever loved me," Lewis jokes before petting his head and placing a soft kiss on my head.

[haileybeehappy]

Movie Nights

Summary : Movie night with your best friend turns when your long time crush, and her brother, invites you to watch the titanic with him instead of the horror movie she is forcing you to watch. Gets steamier than the car scene.

Warnings : there's a lot in this one. Oral, both female and male receiving. she grinds on his abs, because, a girl can dream. dom harry. spanking. pussy slapping, choking, slapping, calling him sir. Oh and daddy. p in v sex. protected. ummm.

Word Count : 5.3k (longest fic I have ever written I'm pretty sure)

Authors note : unedited, wrote it out while my best friend packed. took fucking hours 😂

You and your childhood best friend sat on her basement couch watching horror movies with your hands alternating in the popcorn bucket. You had just gotten home from college a few days before and had your first sleepover on the first weekend that the two of you were both back in town. A short standing tradition after the last three years of school.

“What are we watching?” You whine as you hide behind your hands. Peeking at the screen between the slits of your fingers.

“A shitty horror movie with a shitty budget and shitty actors,” she laughs as she continues to munch at the popcorn. You might as well be shaking from fear.

“I hate this! Why can’t we just watch the princess bride? Or ten things I hate about you?” You ask as you stuff a handful of popcorn into your mouth.

“Because those are shitty cheesy movies. You always fall asleep anyways so,” she shrugs her eyes not leaving the screen. The movie continues as you watch through your hands. Peeking occasionally to see someone being murdered or tortured. You didn’t mind the ghost movies or the monster horror but the guts and gore really got to you.

“Whatcha watchin?” Is whispered into your ear, your whole body tending and jumping clear off the cushion.

“Oh fuck Harry!” Gem screams as she throws a piece of popcorn at him. He skillfully catches it in him mouth and smiles.

“You guys make it to easy,” he laughs as he makes his way to the refrigerator in the kitchenette of the basement.

“You’re an ass,” you throw at him before turning back to the tv and placing your slotted fingers over your eyes.

“Why do you watch these if you don’t even watch them?” He questions you. His body gliding over back to the couch. His forearms resting on the back of the couch. His body so close to you that you can feel his body heat.

“Cause your sisters mean and won’t let me watch the notebook?” You state, more so a question.

“Why not? She makes me watch it all the time?” He scoffs. Gem looks at him with pursed lips and sunken eyebrows.

“Whatever Harry, you always pick that movie. I have nothing to do with it,” his face reddens slightly and he coughs.

“Whatever, I’m gonna go upstairs and watch the titanic. Your ears perk up as you hear him say that.

“Really?” You ask all too quickly.

“I even popped more popcorn,” he smiles down at you. You look to Gemma and she shrugs.

“You can go watch cheesy romance movies but I’m gonna watch real movies down here,” she smile. She’s always known of the attraction you have to her brother but neither of you say anything.

“You sure?” She asks. As if asking permission.

“All you’re doing down here is complaining anyways,” she jokes. You nod and then proceed to follow Harry up the stairs. His cologne filling your nose as you trail behind him. You breathe in his smell before realizing that’s definitely a little weird. You plop yourself down on the couch in your designated spot and he begins to dig through the cupboards that holds their DVD’s.

“DVD?” You ask.

“Yeah, of course,” he scoffs jokingly. Then in a much more serious time. “We gotta watch all the specials and extras too,” a smile stretches across your lips and you grab at the very large bowl of popcorn in front of you.

“Oh of course what was I thinking,” you laugh and shove a handful into your mouth. His head snaps at you as he hears the crunch of air puffed corn.

“Hey!” He whines. “Don’t eat all of it before the movie starts. Or you’re making more,” his eyebrow raised daringly.

“Fine. Whatever,” you plop the bowl into the coffee table. Your mouth still full of popcorn. Very buttery perfectly cooked popcorn. Harry has always had a knack for movie snacks. He finally finds the DVD and raises from his hunched position and inserts it into the DVD player. Snatching the remote from next to the tv and eventually finding the spot next to you on the sofa a comfortable place to be. He is close enough that he can reach the popcorn which he has now placed in between the two of you but far enough it’s not weird.

As the movie starts you can't seem to pay attention to the people on the screen. Mostly focused on the feeling of your lifelong crush sitting next to you. The body heat radiating off of him is all you can feel. You keep fidgeting around and moving around trying to get comfortable. His hand then finds its place on your knee.

"Would you stop moving so much," he whispers. His hand not moving from your leg as his attention moves back to the movie. His hand so warm it feels like it is burning a hole through your leggings. His thumb slowly moving back and forth the black fabric. You find your eyes drifting away from the tv and looking to Harry. A small smile resting on his lips as he watches the movie. Reaching over you grab a small handful of popcorn, his eyes darting to you and his mouth opens wide. You let out a small laugh and bring a few pieces of popcorn to his mouth. He smiles widely at you then crunches the popcorn between his teeth. You force your eyes back to the screen but keep looking to Harry in your peripheral. His hand still resting on your thigh.

He readjusts himself scootching slightly closer to you, his hand falling further up your thigh, a small gasp leaves your lips.

"Sorry," he whispers, sliding it back to the place before. You wrap your fingers around his moving it back up your thigh.

"It's okay,"

"You sure?" His head turning to look at you. You nod.

"I trust you," his face close to yours. If you both leaned forward just a bit his nose would bump yours.

"Probably a bad idea." his voice barely audible.

"You've never given me a reason not to," you drift closer to him slightly. Just as he began to lean forward Gem comes bursting through the door.

"James is here, we're going to go to a party at Wills do you wanna come?" she asks walking into the room. Her eyes on her phone. You jump back from Harry and look to your friend, heart in your throat.

"No I'm not feeling particularly partyish," you shrug. She looks between you and Harry, a small smile playing at her lips.

"You want me to take you home?" Her eyes mischievously looking to her brother.

"I can take her after the movie is over," his hand still resting on your thigh he begins to move his thumb back and forth again.

"You okay with that?" she asks looking back to you. You just nod. "Okay well than I'm out of here," she looks back to her phone and walks to the door. Your phone buzzes and quickly you glance at the screen. Wrap it before you tap it babe XD is the text notification you get from Gemma. You quickly turn your phone over, harry looking back to the TV screen as Gemma leaves. His hand raises holding the remote and pauses the tv.

"I'm gonna run to the bathroom, I'll be right back," you nod as he stands up. His frame towering over you. You look up to him, his waist at your eye level. As he brushes by you, he looks down to you. Stopping when he is right and front of you. Grasping your chin in his fingers as you look up to him. "Don't go anywhere," he says with a smile. You bite into your bottom lip.

"I wasn't planning on it," you say through a smile.

"Good," he lets go of your chin and makes his way to the bathroom. You take in a big breath and sigh out. Dropping your head to rest on the couch. You move the popcorn bowl to the table. Grabbing your phone you respond to Gemma. Shut up! Be safe, I love you &lt;3. As she responds Harry comes back into the room, you drop your phone into your lap as he plops back beside you. Now close enough that his leg slots itself under your crisscrossed legs. His hand finds residency back on your thigh as he presses play on the movie.

"I'm thirsty," you complain. He slowly turns his head to you looking over your face. He pauses the movie again.

"What do you want?" He asks moving to get up.

"I can get it," you lift yourself from the couch shuffling to the kitchen. You grab yourself a glass, and when you turn to see if Harry wants anything. You yelp when you come face to face with him. "Holy shit you scared me," you laugh out. He smiles down at you.

"Sorry, didn't mean to," His hands find your waist. Your breath catching in your throat. "Didn't want you to get lonely," you can't help the smile that is plastered across your face. You just walk out of his grip and to the fridge.

"I think I would have been okay," You grab the pitcher of lemonade that they have just for you and pour yourself a glass. Harry lets out a sigh.

"You're probably right," as you turn back around, closing the door with your hip. He plucks the glass out of your hands and takes a sip. You gasp in fake annoyance.

"Hey! That's mine!" You push at him as he then sets the glass on the counter. Placing his hand on top of yours as you push against him. Your fingers encased by his. His other hand finds your waist and pulls you to him, your body colliding with his. He releases his hold of your hand on his chest and wraps you completely in his embrace. Usure of what to with your hands you bring your other hand up to rest on his chest. "You're mean," you joke. The smile on his face grows.

"I was thirsty," he shrugs. You just roll your eyes, dropping your head down. Looking down to where your hands rest on his chest. His hand grasps your jaw pulling you to look at him. "Don't you roll your eyes at me," he says jokingly, with some weight behind his words.

"What are you going to do about it?" you ask breathily. His hold on your jaw tightening.

"Don't tempt me," he says, your name escaping his mouth.

"I'm not doing anything," his eyes drop to your lips, then back to your own eyes. You nod, giving him permission. He dips, his nose bumping yours in a playful way. You close your eyes waiting for his lips to press against yours. You open your eyes, and he is just starring at you. When his green irises meet yours, he moves his thumb back and forth against the skin of your chin.

"You're so beautiful," He whispers before he collides with you. His warm lips enveloping yours. Your hands move to grasp at the back of his neck. The hold he has on your hips tightening, he pulls you to him. You deepen the kiss, tasting the Lemonade on his lips. He opens his mouth pressing his tongue against the seam of your lips, and accept him, exploring each other his hands drift from your waist to your ass. As you gasp you can feel him smile into your mouth. You pull back and gasp in a breath.

"You okay?" he asks. You nod at him, lips pulled into your mouth. "You wanna go back to the movie?" you shrug. "Or we can go to my room?" you shrug again. "It doesn't have to go further than this?" he offers up again. You pause for a moment before nodding your head. He fights a smile and turns to grab your drink, his hand holding yours in the other. He quickly leans down to grab the remote and clicks off the TV. Before he can pull you upstairs to his room you grab your phone off the couch. You trail behind him, eyes locked on your entwined hands. Trailing up the tattoos on his arms, you cross the threshold into his room. He closes the door behind you and places the glass of lemonade on his side table before sitting down on the edge of the bed. You slot yourself between his legs and drop your hands onto his shoulder. His eyes wide as he looks up to you. His hands sliding from their resting place on your hips and down to the backs of your knees. Pulling you close to him so that he can slide you onto his lap. As your body is jerked into his hold you let out a whine.

"I won't drop you," he jokes as you finally find yourself sitting in his lap. Knees on either side of his waist, feet under your bottom. Arms wrapped around his neck as his are clasped behind your back holding you in place. You lean down and press a chaste kiss on his lips. He pushes you back into him as you try to pull away. You laugh as he begins to place kisses on your jaw, slowly trailing down your neck. Not venturing down further than your collar bones. You lean your head back to give him access to more skin. The light scruff tickles as he pressed light kisses along the tendons poking behind your skin. Finding a soft spot that elicits a gasp from you. Your hands tangle into his hair as his teeth scrape against the lilac mark that now stains your skin. The pull at the base of his neck tilting his head up and you capture his lips in yours once again. As his tongue delves into your mouth his hands find your ass. Fingers kneading into your skin, Fingernails scraping at your fabric covered skin. As you nip at his lip he pulls back.

"Are you okay? With all this?" he asks emphasis on the last few words with a squeeze of your ass. You nod in approval. "Words," he speaks your name.

"Yes, I am very okay with it," you twist his hair in your fingers.

"And going further?" you nod. He gives you a pointed look.

"Yes,"

"How much further?" you answer with a shrug. He gives your ass a sharp slap. "Words, was that, okay?" he asks, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes, and I mean, whatever happens, happens," you shrug with one shoulder. "I'll let you know if I want to slow down or stop," he nods and drops his back onto the mattress. Your form following his as he presses a kiss into your lips. Another smack is laid on your ass and he quickly spins you around so that you are under him. Your legs unfold from under you, the weight of his body on yours a comforting feeling. Your legs wrapping across his back. Pulling him down closer to you, his clothed cock rubbing across your core. A small growl vibrates within is throat as he grinds down into you.

You disconnect from him and begin kissing down his chin, down his neck, sucking at the sensitive skin. He finds solace in the crease of your neck, face buried in your hair. He breathes deeply as you pull at his hair, your hands venture down from his hair. Running over his neck, down his chest. Ghosting over his abdomen and slipping up under his shirt. Rubbing your fingers sternly over the bones protruding from his hips. Hands skimming over the fern tattoos that you know adorn themselves on his skin. He lets out a shaky breath as your hands continue to explore his body. Your head now dropped onto the mattress, eyes closed and breath shallow.

"Fuck you feel so good against me," he whines into your ear. Pressing himself harder into your center. You let out a wispy moan. He leans up, scootching himself off the floor and stands. Looking down to you, you sit up slowly and snake your hands back under his shirt.

"I wanna see your tattoos," you pout, pulling at the black fabric of his shirt. He smirks and pulls the shirt over his head. Revealing his ink-stained torso. Your hands lay flat against the ferns that poke out from his jeans; The waistband pulled down slightly. His light happy trail thickening as is dives below his waist. Slowly skimming your hands up to the butterfly under his pecks your fingers tracing the lines of the wings, then up the center. continuing with one finger you trace it up the center of his chest and bring your other hand back up. You rub your thumbs over the birds on his chest before slipping the pads of your fingers up and down his collar bones. You look back to his face, his eyes already watching you intently. His hands encapsulate your face, leaning down he places a kiss on your nose. You scrunch it as he pulls away.

"I wanna see you too," his voice husky. You move to take off your shirt, but his hands quickly cover yours and grasp your shirt. Slowly pulling it off your body. As the fabric moves over your face you close your eyes, as he drops the shirt to the ground, he leans back down over you. Your eyes still closed he drops to his knees. He begins placing kisses on your neck, your head falling back. "So fucking beautiful," he whispers as his bottom lip skims across the tops of your breasts. His hands running up your legs, fingers splayed as he travels up. Lightly running them up your sides and waist. Finally grasping at your bra covered chest. The sudden pressure causing you to let out a moan.

"Harry please," you whine out.

"Please what baby?" he asks, pressing soft kisses against your hot skin.

"I don't know I just want to feel you," his hand runs along the band of your bra until he finds the clasp in the back. "Yes, please," you say before he can ask for permission. He smiles against your skin, quickly unclasping the lace clad bra. It falls off your form, he pulls it from your body and adds it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. His mouth covers your exposed flesh. Tongue circling your peaked nipple while his hand comes to play with your neglected breast. Kneading at your skin, You lean yourself down to him.

"So fucking needy," he says before he reattaches to the opposite breast. Your now wet exposed skin tingling in the cold air. Little gasps and whines leaving your mouth as he continues to suck at your skin.

"Only for you," you breathe out. He growls as his teeth nip at you. You let out a squeak and jolt back. He pushes against you, having you lay back flat. Mouth finding your neck, adorning you with more marks. His hand drift to the waist of your leggings and he slips just the tips of his fingers into the fabric. Rubbing his hands back and forth, you twitch up into his touch. "You can take them off," you tell him. He sighs into you. Hands bunching the fabric, coming back to a full standing position as he pulls the black fabric fully from your legs. He then drops down to his knees. Fingers skimming down from your ankles, up your calves. Resting at the inter seam of your knee. Holding onto the flesh of your legs as he looks to you. Your hair splayed on the cream sheets behind you.

"Touch me please," you beg. He runs his finger pads along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You grasp at his hair as he begins to place kisses along the edges of your underwear. "Harry please," you whine, lifting your hips from the bed. He responds with a slap to your thigh.

"Let me explore," he nips at the skin of your thigh. You instinctively try to close your legs. He then takes both hands, wrapping them around the back of your thighs and holding you open. You let out a huff as he begins placing soft kisses along your clothes seam. Almost light enough you can't feel him. "Already so wet," he groans out, as if he is speaking to himself. He then licks a flat stripe against you, not quite enough to touch your depraved clit. You moan out, gripping his hair tighter. Pushing his face to you, his nose bumps your clit, and your hips try to push up to grind into him, but he stops you with the grip he has on your hips. He pulls back and slaps against your pussy, which rips a wail from your throat.

"Fuck Harry please,"

"Stop being a needy little whore and let me have fun," he then hooks his fingers into the gusset of your underwear and all but rips them off your body. He dives back into your cunt. Fingers playing at your entrance as he instantly attaches his mouth to your clit. You writhe off the bed.

"Harry, yes, oh my god," you yell out. His smile breaking the suction he had. "Please don't stop, please, please," You pull tightly at his hair. His fingers finally slip knuckle deep into you. Exploring, searching for that spongy spot inside you. Moans and obscenities falling from your mouth. As he finally presses his fingers to the spot deep inside of you drop your head into the mattress and your legs drop to the sides. Arching up off the bed, he continues pumping his finger in and out of you. Mouth still attached to your clit; you can feel yourself approach your climax faster than ever before.

"Fuck Harry please I'm so close," pushing yourself against his face.

"Come for me baby," he says before quickly attaching himself to you. Teeth grazing your clit causing stars to burst behind your eyes. Your fingers and toes curling and clenching so hard it almost hurts. Broken words fall from your mouth as you whimper and moan. Pleasure coursing through your veins, your heart beating a million miles an hour. "Such a good girl," Harry groans as he begins placing kisses on your trembling thighs. You roll your head to the side as he guides himself onto the bed. Pulling you to his chest as you come down from your high. His hand running up and down your back, murmuring into your ear.

"You did such a good job baby," he presses a kiss into your hair. You open your eyes and look to him.

"Thank you," you smile at him. Which causes him to chuckle.

"You're welcome, I've been dying to do that for years," He then pulls you in for a kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue, he pulls your bottom lip in between his teeth as he pulls away.

"Years huh?" you ask.

"Years," he confirms before kissing you again. You just smile into his lips.

"Damn," you mumble against him. He looks at you with slight concern. "You're saying I could've had mind blowing orgasms for years but we were too chicken?" he breaks out in laughter.

"I guess so," once your head is finally clear you look down at your tangled bodies. His pants have been undone; zipper flayed open. Exposing is Calvin Clein briefs that clothe a still very hard member. The outline of the head of his cock pressing against the fabric. You run your finger along rim of his cock, and he lets out a broken sigh.

"It was starting to hurt," he breathes out. Eyes watching your hands intently.

"Aww baby," You condescend as you then palm down the length of him.

"You fuckin, ooh," he trails off into a moan.

"Can I kiss it better?" you ask as you slowly glide down his body. He nods in confirmation.

"Fucking please," he groans, his dick pushing up against your hands.

"I can't wait to taste you," you say as you are eye level with his clothed cock. Pulling at his jeans and underwear. His hips lift from the bed so you can gain access to his untouched skin. His dick springs out slapping against his stomach. He lets out a hiss as your hand wraps around his base. Lifting his dick to your lips, you place an opened mouth kiss against the tip of his cock. Tongue poking out to taste him. A hum like moan leaves his mouth at the contact.

"Holy fuck you feel so good already," his hips jerk up. You then take all of his head into your mouth. Swirling your tongue around him. Slowly taking a little more at a time, bobbing up and down slightly. Wetting his cock slowly. His grasp finds home in your hair pulling at your roots. You moan at the pleasurable burn that sends tingles through your body. The vibrations on his cock causing him to thrust up into your mouth. "Fuck, sorry, sorry," He groans as you pull off of him.

"It's okay," you gasp. Before diving back in and taking him as far back as you can.

"Fucking shit you're perfect," he groans. Eyes screwing shut and his head dropping onto his pillows. His hand stays at the back of your head as you bob up and down on his dick. Taking what you can't fit down your throat in your hands. You can feel him twitch in your mouth, your mouth salivating, ready to taste him explode across your taste buds. Before he finishes, he pulls you off him and lets out a shaky breath. "I wanna feel you," his dick twitches in your grasp. "If that's okay with you?" you nod.

"Yeah, yes, please," He pulls at your hair, you climb back up onto him. Your exposed core sitting on his abdomen. Connecting at the lips again. His hands gripping your hips slowly guiding you to grind against his abs. You whimper into the kiss, his fingers digging deep enough to bruise in the morning. You can feel your orgasm building as you rub yourself on him. His skin becoming wet with your slick. He pulls back from your lips.

"You getting close?" you let out a whimper as you nod. "Come on baby, you can do it. Cum on my tummy baby," he coaxes you as you grind down harder onto him. He lets go of your waist with one hand and slaps your ass. The sting pushing you over the edge. Legs clenching around his abdomen, shaking and whining. His eyes glued to your face, that's twisted and clenched in pleasure. "Good girl, such a good fuckin girl," he growls as you finish for the second time. Your hands find rest on his chest as you collapse into his arms.

"Fuck Harry you're gonna kill me," you sigh as you nuzzle into his neck. He chuckles. Hands kneading your ass.

"At least you'll die satisfied," you place a kiss against his neck.

"Can I satisfy you now?" you joke.

"Of course," he laughs. Turning over so you are under him he hops off the bed. Quickly shedding himself of his pants he turns and begins digging in his dresser. He comes back to the bed. A small foil packet in his hand. He tosses it on the bed beside you. You stand up on your knees and waddle to the edge of the bed. He pulls you into a deep kiss. Hands on either side of your face. You sigh out into him. As he pulls away his thumb runs across your bottom lip.

"You sure? We don't have to if you don't want to," his thumb resting on your lip. You lean down and press a kiss against it.

"I am beyond sure," you smile at him.

"Thank fuck," he wraps his arms around your thighs and picks you up. tossing you back onto the bed. You land with a laugh. Be stays standing looking down on you, lustful look on his face.

"Are you going to fuck me or just look at me?" he smirks and grabs the condom. Ripping open the wrapping and rolling it onto himself without taking his eyes off of you. You look back and forth between his face and his dick. Mouth practically watering at the sight of him. He guides himself over you. Slowly crawling onto you. As he comes face to face with you, he pecks your lips.

"I want your eyes on mine okay?" he questions you.

"Yes sir," you slip. Eyes widening slightly. He smirks at the comment. He moans as his tip teases your entrance. You lift your hips causing his head to slip inside of you. Both of you gasping at the feeling. His hand then comes around your throat. Squeezing slightly at the sides, asking permission. You nod.

"So fucking needy," he groans as he then sheaths himself fully inside of you. He stays buried inside you unmoving. The moan that leaves your body is unlike any noise you've made before. The sheer fullness of him causing your body to vibrate. "Such a tight little cunt," His eyes still locked on yours. "My tight little cunt huh?" you release a little moan. His hand releasing your throat and tapping at the side of your face. "Words baby," he commands.

"Yes Harry, all yours," he then lighly smacks your face.

"Uh uh, that's not my name," His pupils blown with lust. You moan out to him.

"Sir," you whine out. He begins to slowly pull out. "Yes sir, I'm sorry sir," barely escapes your mouth as he fully thrusts back into you.

"Fuck," he drowns out. Slowly dragging himself across your walls. As he slowly fucks you, your moans grow. His tip bouncing off your cervix in the most deliciously painful way. "Fuckin good girl taking Daddys cock all the way," he groans.

"Like it was made for me," you sigh.

"Just for you baby, only yours," you clench around him. His breath faltering. "You keep doing that I'll fucking come," he scolds. His hand snaking in between your conjoined bodies and finding your clit. As he draws slow circles over the bundle of nerves you gasp. The two prior orgasms making you overly sensitive.

"Oh Daddy please don't stop,"

"Come on baby, come for me, come with me," he whimpers. You can feel him twitching inside of you, on the edge. As his thrusts become sloppy you feel your orgasm teetering on the edge.

"I'm gonna come, Daddy, fuck," His eyes not leaving yours.

"Eyes on me, wanna watch you come," you moan out as he thrusts harder. Your vision cloudy with tears as your orgasm washes over you. Your eyes closing as you hit your peak. His hand making harsh contact with your cheek.

"Eyes on me," he releases a frustrated groan. You open your eyes to look at him. His eyes an even darker green than usual. His pupils dilate erasing almost all the color from his irises as he releases into the condom buried balls deep inside you. Gasped breaths escaping his mouth as he struggles to curse out. He collapses onto you. slipping beside you and nuzzling into your neck. You move to wrap your arms around him as his clasp your waist.

You lay together for quite some time before he lifts himself to kiss you. Slow lazy kisses, capturing each other's breaths. As he pulls away and looks back into your eyes, you speak.

"That was pretty good," you shrug. His mouth falls open with offence.

"Pretty good?" he scoffs. "Don't make me fuck you till you can't walk pretty girl. I will fucking destroy you," Before you get a chance to answer he captures your lips in his. You push him off you.

"So sensetive," You laugh, pulling him back in for a kiss. Both of you fighting smiles.

Masterlist

[haikyu-mp4]

A middle blocker’s pride

word count; 1375 – f!reader

Life can be difficult. Accepting that your brother was moving to Paris and leaving you behind to handle your last year in high school alone was difficult. Getting into university and managing that along with a part-time job was difficult. Going on terrible dates in an attempt to follow the herd and find a mediocre partner was difficult.

But dating Suna Rintaro was easy.

He didn’t put that much energy into anything, except now and then when he made sure you knew he loved you. This year, that included two tickets for a romantic trip to Paris for your summer holidays. You had time off school and he had time off from the team, and you were especially thrilled because that location meant you could see your dearest brother again and introduce him to the love of your life.

Rintaro knew who your brother was, and he had told you that they played against each other once or twice in high school. You hadn’t been very into the volleyball scene and didn’t make it to most of the games, but you had laughed heartily at how Rintaro described Tendo Satori’s frustrating tactics.

Concerning that, you had called your brother and detailed exactly who you were in a relationship with, and he had revealed that he and Rintaro were rivals, seemingly destined to meet again but this time through you. You had laughed at that too, assuming it was just their competitiveness speaking.

But now you stood in front of the door to Satori’s apartment in Paris, hand-in-hand with Rintaro who held a large bouquet for the host, and you’re beginning to think that your boyfriend is putting a lot of energy into this.

Satori opened the door and you threw your arms up for a giant bear hug. “Satoriiiiii!” you cheered, laughing as he squeezed you before putting you back down.

“Miracle girl, and you-” Satori gasped dramatically when he finally made eye contact with a half-smiling Rintaro. “So we meet again,” he added like some Disney villain.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you under more, uhh-” Rintaro glanced at you and back at your brother. “pleasant circumstances.” He held out the flowers as well, hoping to silently hand them over.

“For me?” Satori asked as he ushered you inside the apartment before closing the door and engaging on a mission for a flower vase. “I see you’re charming your way into both Tendos’ hearts, but I must disappoint you. I can not steal you away from my dearest sister when she is so smitten with you.”

Rintaro laughed, a bit awkwardly you must admit, but still followed along into the kitchen. “Here I thought I scored a two for one,” he joked, and let me tell you, Satori cackled at this.

“Idiots. And don’t tell him I’m smitten! It’ll just go to his head,” you complained. Satori laughed as he stuffed the flowers in a much too plain vase for your taste, but it’s all he had for now. Satori scrunched his nose at you before going back to the food that was just simmering.

“I never really asked, how did the two of you meet?” Satori asked.

You and Rintaro looked at each other, and you had no choice but to tell the story yourself when you saw his smirk if only to ensure no unnecessary details were added or even made up. “I’ll tell you, it was quite the meet-cute.”

During your second month in university, you went to a volleyball game on a failed first date and that man was just plain nasty. When the game ended he kept whispering in your ear about taking you home to his place with a hand clutching your thigh, not particularly seducing when his breath could stink up the whole room. You excused yourself to the bathroom in a nervous rush, and as you tried to escape from him, you ran into Suna.

He looked up from his phone as you stumbled back a bit, and his eyes widened just a smidge when you mouthed ‘help’. You got nervous as his face seemed to stay apathetic until your date grabbed your arm from behind you and he finally stepped in.

Suna switched to a glare and directed it at your date. “So this is the man you’re trying to make me jealous with?” he said, and you tried your hardest not to focus on how attractive his voice was. Instead, you looked between the two a bit nervously. Suna seemed to notice your lack of following up. “You know I still love you,” he said and looked back at you.

You took a deep breath and turned to your date. “I’m sorry, I realise now that I’m still in love with him too.” It was said so robotically that Suna could swear he had never seen a worse actor in his life.

Thankfully, your date looked Suna up and down and decided it wasn’t worth it, scoffing before leaving you alone. “You’re not hot enough for this.”

You let out a deep sigh and closed your eyes, not yet noticing Suna’s smug grin. “I think you’re pretty hot, but you’re a terrible liar.”

“So basically, it was love at first sight,” you concluded, giggling as Rintaro started pushing your arm in protest.

Satori couldn’t deny the ache in his heart when you looked at Rintaro with the same adoration you used to hold for him, but it was accompanied by warmth as he knew you were loved the way you should be. He sighed dreamily at the end of the story, “Ahh, young love.” He finally moved the pots with the finished food over to the dining table, placing them on the coasters. It smelled pretty good, but you were more excited for the dessert.

You and Rin sat on one side of the table while Satori sat on the other, and Rintaro struggled with getting into the conversation. As he watched Satori tell stories about his life in Paris, he thought back to their previous meeting.

Suna breathed out sharply at the distant voice of the opposite team’s middle blocker, who was singing his heart out about crushing their spirits and breaking their hearts. Osamu laughed at his teammate, patting his shoulder harshly. “Letting him get to ya, Sunarin?”

He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he turned towards the redhead, also realising they were walking back on the court now. “A weirdo like that? Never.”

When Tendo rotated in front of him next, Rintaro scowled at the sight. He was dancing around after blocking their spike as if that was some great achievement. Suna could probably have played a better decoy for that one, but he found himself more annoyed with Atsumu for letting the guess-monster toy with their spikers.

So when he finally had the ball set for him, he used his classic tactics to twist and shove it right down on their side, not giving Tendo a chance to stuff it. As they landed back on their feet, they were face to face and the redhead squinted when Suna smirked. “You annoy me.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

Now, as the three of you were only halfway through your dinner because you kept laughing and yapping away, Rintaro finally let a soft smile fall on his lips. When you were with your brother, you seemed so… like yourself. It made him genuinely happy watching the two of you joke around, and he thought, maybe people who let themselves be a little weird are better off in the end.

So he jumped right into the conversation by adding onto one of Satori’s jokes, and the other man cackled again and pointed at Rintaro in something akin to validation. A warmth enveloped him when your hand found his on the table, rubbing your thumb over his skin and looking to the side at him with the warmest smile he ever received. He couldn’t help himself and leaned in for a quick kiss, making Satori pretend to gag before assuring you he was just joking. Rintaro laughed before holding up a napkin to cover you as he went in for a second one.

This wasn’t such a bad way to spend his energy.

masterlist

[azzifudd]

we just sort of get each other

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: insp by an article an anon sent me that said paige was with azzi the whole day before her senior prom

rated: teen

1.3k words

disclaimer: many made up events obviously

Paige sits on the couch, leg propped up on a pillow, hands fidgeting with her phone. She opens Tiktok for a moment, but closes it after a few quick swipes, jiggling her healthy leg as she waits for Azzi to emerge from her bedroom.

She had been in there about an hour earlier, watching as the makeup artist worked on Azzi’s face. In her opinion, Azzi didn’t even need all that, but she had been clearly enjoying the full day of pampering. 

But when the makeup artist had complained for the third time that Azzi would not stop laughing at Paige’s antics, Katie had sent Paige out and shut the door behind her. 

Jose and Jon are playing Mario Kart, pushing at each other as their characters race around the track. 

“You wanna play, Paige?” Jose holds out one of the spare controllers to her.

“Nah, man, I’m good.” She stands up, grabbing her crutches and limping into the kitchen to grab a drink. She’s walking back into the living room when Azzi’s door finally opens. 

Paige turns eagerly at the sound of heels on the wooden floor and drops her bottle of Gatorade at the sight that greets her. 

The bottle thunks heavily against the floor. 

Azzi smiles shyly at her, one dimple peeking out. 

“How do I look?” 

Azzi looks…

Paige has no words. Paige has a million words. She can’t seem to pick her jaw up from where it has hit the floor. 

Paige is nearly breathless as she runs her eyes up and down Azzi’s body. 

She’s wearing a floor length dress, a silver shimmery thing with pink and blue tones throughout it that bares the skin of her chest and arms. A slit runs up one leg, exposing what appears to be miles of tan skin and toned muscle. 

Paige clears her throat, hoping she isn’t blushing as hard as it seems as her cheeks heat up. 

“You look..” She hesitates, unsure if anything she says can even measure up to the emotions that swell in her chest as she looks at Azzi. 

She’s saved from speaking as Azzi’s parents round the corner. Tim has his phone in outstretched hand as he approaches.

“Baby, you look amazing!” He snaps a few photos as Azzi poses. 

Paige stands back and watches as Azzi’s parents direct her in an impromptu photoshoot. Soon her little brothers are roped in to take photos with her, and before she knows it, Tim is gesturing for Paige to stand beside Azzi. 

“Aw, no I don’t want my crummy outfit to make her look bad.” She’s in a wrinkled AZ35 t-shirt and a pair of Nike pants, boot heavy around her ankle. At least she brushed her hair earlier instead of just throwing it into a messy ponytail. 

“Paige, please?” Azzi holds out a hand. 

Paige is at her left side before she even realizes it, hand wrapping around her waist as Azzi leans into her. 

Soon, Azzi has to leave to go take photos with her date James at the National Mall. The family all load into the car, but Paige stays behind because it’s a little too much walking for her ankle. 

But before Azzi can head out, Paige grabs her hand, holding her back until they’re alone in the house. Paige leans her crutches against the wall, and grasps Azzi by the hips, pulling her until their foreheads touch. 

“I wish I was the one taking you.” Paige says, her voice a whisper against Azzi’s lips. For a moment, Paige wishes things were different, that she was just a normal girl who got to take the girl she liked to prom. 

But if she was just a normal girl, she never would have met Azzi, and that’s not a world that Paige can bear to imagine.

“You look beautiful.” 

Azzi’s responding kiss feels like a ‘thank you’ and an ‘I’m sorry' all at once. They are interrupted by a loud honk from outside and Jon’s voice yelling for Azzi to hurry up. Paige’s lips are sticky with gloss. 

“Have the best night,” Paige says, and then Azzi’s out the door. 

***

Azzi has a good night. She does. She spends the night dancing and talking with friends and just having a normal high school experience, something that has become more and more rare as her high school career has developed. The pandemic had ruined so much of what she had hoped would be a perfect senior year, so she is grateful that prom at least has gone off without a hitch.

But as the night wears on, she can’t help but think of what was missing. James is handsome and charming; a dream prom date for so many girls. But he isn’t who Azzi wants. She wants the annoying, sweet, beautiful girl who is waiting for her at home. 

Surprisingly, none of her friends question her when she tells them she will be heading straight home after the dance, rather than hitting up the after party that nearly everyone else is going to. 

When she gets home, she finds her family finishing up a movie in the living room. Strangely, Paige is nowhere to be found. 

“Did you have a good night, honey?” 

“Yeah, it was a lot of fun.” She doesn’t elaborate. “Where’s Paige? Did she go back to her dad’s?” 

Her mom looks unsurprised at her question, smiling as she tilts her head toward their basement door. “She’s downstairs, waiting for you. Don’t change out of your dress yet.”

Azzi is a bit confused, but she heads downstairs anyway. She takes her time going down the stairs in her heels, watching her feet, and as she hits the last step, she realizes there is soft music playing. She looks up and finds the room lit only by what seems like dozens of candles interspersed throughout the room.

All the furniture has been pushed to the edges of the room, and standing at the center of the room is Paige. She is wearing a button up that looks just a bit too tight around her shoulders and a pair of black pants. A baby blue tie is loose around her neck, and Azzi knows when she gets close enough that she’ll be able to see how it brings out the color in Paige’s eyes. 

“I know it’s not the same as if we’d gotten to go together, but I got us these. 

When she gets within arms reach, Azzi notices that Paige is holding a plastic box. She pops it open to reveal a beautiful corsage, pink and vibrant with a matching boutonniere. 

Azzi can’t stop herself from reaching out to hold Paige’s face in her hands and kissing her. Paige smiles against her lips.

“You like it?” She asks, laughing when Azzi nods and kisses her again.

With gentle hands, Paige slides the flower onto Azzi’s wrist and she stands still as Azzi returns the favor, pinning hers to her chest with shaky fingers. 

“Can I have this dance?” Paige loops her arms around Azzi’s waist, pulling her even closer.

“Will your ankle be okay?” Azzi asks, bringing her arms up around Paige’s shoulders. 

“Yeah,” Paige shrugs. “I asked during PT this morning, and they said swaying was okay.” 

“Then let’s sway.” Azzi giggles, pressing their foreheads together as they move gently to the music. 

“Did you have fun tonight?” 

“Mmhm.” Azzi nods. “I missed you though. I always miss you.” 

“Just a few more months and we’ll be together all the time.” 

“You won’t get tired of me?” Azzi scratches at the back of Paige’s neck, smiling as Paige’s eyes flutter and she leans into the touch. 

“Never.” Paige makes sure to look Azzi right in the eyes, her own piercing and honest. 

Azzi twists a hand into Paige’s tie, pulls her in, and kisses her and kisses her. 

[letstripdotcom]

shut up my moms calling- chris sturniolo x fem!reader

a/n i love naming my fics after songs bc then i listen to them on replay while i write.

summary- coming home from college means seeing the kid you’ve hated most your whole life. chris sturniolo. you’ve hated everything about his existence since the beginning of 6th grade when you transferred to somerville. the summer after your freshman year of college is when everything starts to change.

warnings- long(ish) smut ofc, mention of toxic relationship, choking, pet names (princess, baby, pretty girl) overstimulation {i think that’s all!}

-

6th grade

i just moved from oklahoma to a small town outside of boston called somerville. it was my first day of 6th grade and i was everything but excited to go. i had a good amount of friends in oklahoma, and absolutely none in massachusetts. if it were up to me i would have stayed, but i had no choice because my mom got offered better work down here.

i walked into the crowded classroom with my schedule in hand. “is this mrs sawyers class?” i ask quietly. “yes it is, and you must be y/n?” she looks up at me through her glasses. “y-yes” i utter nervously. “nice to meet you, have a seat wherever” I walk to a more empty side of the classroom and take a seat.

“newww girlll” i voice calls out in a mocking tone when i sit down. when i look up i lock eyes with a boy with short brown hair. hes sat with his 2 triplet brothers and another one of their friends. “yeah?” i say quietly. he starts immediately attacking me with questions

“where are you from? why are you here? what school did you go to last? did you have friends” i’m overwhelmed as questions pour out of his mouth. “chris you’re freaking her out” his brother says. “i’m nick.” he smiles at me. “that’s chris, obviously, and that’s matt”

“hey nice to meet you” the third one says. “oh and that’s nate.” nick says. i nod my head looking at the 4 boys. “i’m y/n” i say. “y/n?” chris says under his breath almost inaudible. “excuse me?” i say turning my head to look at him. “what nothing.” he tries to play it off

“who decided on the name y/n, your mom or your dad?” chris asks with a disgusted but confused look on his face. “it was my mom’s best friend’s name before she passed.” i explained. “tough” he muttered. the whole rest of the class period was filled with his snarky remarks and questions.

over time, as i got closer to matt and nick, the snarky remarks from chris turned into full on arguments. anything i would say would lead to chris having something else to say. i could tell him my head hurts and he would say something along the lines of “maybe if you wouldn’t think so hard about what to say and just shut the fuck up for once that wound be a problem.” i would just roll my eyes and go back to talking to nick

-

this behavior lasted all the way through senior year of high school. i stayed close with nick and matt, which means i was stuck with chris. we got in several heated arguments over the years and they all led to me leaving the triplets house at 2 in the morning because i couldn’t physically be around chris.

our last big fight was the weekend before i left for college. nick wanted to host a small party of about 15 friends for me since i wouldn’t be seeing him again til the summer. we were setting up the decorations and chris was being extra annoying.

“chris can you actually help out and stop acting like a fucking toddler.” i snapped at him while he stood under me watching me hang up a banner. “maybe if you weren’t nagging at me every 30 seconds.” he complained. “i wouldn’t be nagging if you wouldn’t stand in my way instead of actually contributing to anything in this world” i yelled, stepping off the ladder as i finished hanging the banner.

“you act like i wanna do this party. i don’t give a fuck about you.” he spat “i might not even show up tonight because you’ve been a bitch all day long!” my heart dropped and i felt a lump form in my throat. bitch? me and chris never got along but he never called me a bitch

he knew how much i hated it because of a past relationship i had. during junior year, i was in a super toxic relationship with a kid from our school. i was so naive i had thought he had actually liked me but it turns out i was wrong. we would constantly argue and he would gaslight me into forgiving him.

i stared at chris blankly as tears formed in my eyes. “y/n i-“ “fuck you chris.” i cut him off “and yeah i think it’s best you don’t show up tonight.” i ran upstairs to the bathroom and wiped away my tears. i checked in the mirror and adjusted myself before going back down.

-

present day

i hung up the phone with nick and got in my car. i was on my way home from college for the summer, and i finally got to see my best friend. he’s so excited that he rented out a cabin by the lake for a whole week to celebrate. i haven’t seen any of the triplets since i left, i haven’t seen chris since before the party. chris. my stomach dropped and my heart started pounding when the realization hit that i would be seeing chris.

i didn’t want to see him at all. nick said he changed a lot, and maybe he did, but you can never be too sure. and he did change a lot physically. chris was much more attractive then he was in highschool, not that he’s ever been unattractive, other than his personality.

about a few hours later i called nick to tell him i was close to the cabin. i pulled in and nick darted outside. “omgggg it’s been forever” i squealed as i got out of my car. “you have to see the place!” he grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the back of the house. “there’s a hot tub, a massive pool and all of this space.” he gawked at the house. we went inside as he gave me a tour of the house. “this is your room!” he announced pointing inside.

i looked around and it was absolutely beautiful. “thank you so much nick this is amazing” i hugged him. “don’t thank me too much” he said “i had to put you in the room across the hall from chris, i hope you don’t mind because i’ll work something out”

“no that’s totally fine, i’ll just pretend he isn’t even here” i smiled. he smiled back “okay i’ll be downstairs getting everything ready bc we’re gonna have movie night tonight just like high school.” he said as he left my room.

after i got settled in, i took a shower. i picked out my pajamas which was just a big t shirt and shorts and i headed down stairs happily. “there she is!” matt exclaimed, giving me a hug. “matt i missed you so much!” i said hugging him back

after i pulled away, i made eye contact with chris, who was glaring at me and matt. i shot him a calm smile and looked away. wow chris got really hot. you thought to yourself. no, chris is awful. but i couldn’t help but notice his fluffy hair and his defined jawline.

i noticed his sun kissed face, which made his freckles stand out. god i could only imagine what he looked like with my leg- no. remember what chris said to you. i snapped myself out of my thoughts and sat by nick on the the couch. he handed me a blanket and i cuddled up next to him and focused my eyes on the screen

my focus only lasted for about 30 seconds before my mind was back on chris. why hasn’t he spoke to me? because he hates me. duh. i wonder what he’s thinking right now. why am i so worried about chris? “you okay?” nick asks from beside me. “yeah i’m fine” i say in a convincing reassuring tone.

after the movie ends, i say goodnight and i head up to my room. i get situated in my bed, and i try to fall asleep but i can’t. my mind is flooded with thoughts of chris, and the next thing i know my hand is down my pants. what has happened to me?

this is chris sturniolo, the kid who’s bullied me for 7 years. i never imagined i would be getting off to the thought of him at 2 in the morning. i need to go to bed, but i physically can’t.

i get up out of bed and dig through my bags. i grab my pink swim suit and put it on. a get a towel from my bathroom and quietly head down stairs. i go out the back door and get in the hot tub. i zone out and try to find peace of mind.

i sit there with my eyes closed until i hear someone else getting in the water. i open my eyes, only to see chris. great. this is exactly what i need right now. “look y/n” his voice breaks me out of my thoughts. “i’m really sorry for the way i’ve treated you, you didn’t deserve any of it. but, we’re older now so i wanna put the past in the past”

“i forgive you” i say flatly. “really?” he seems genuinely shocked. “can i kiss you?” i asked immediately regretting what i said. “what?” is all he says before i grab my towel and run inside.

i lay on my bed for a split second before i hear a knock. i know it’s chris, but i still go to the door and answer it. i look up at him with a guilty look on my face. before i speak he’s slamming his face into mine.

he kisses me very passionately like he’s been waiting is whole life. he pushes me into my room and shuts the door behind us. he turns me and pushes me against is as he kisses me harder. one of his hands come up and squeeze my neck slightly

i moan into his mouth causing him to squeeze harder. i moan again growing super wet between my legs. one of my hands come up to tug on his hair, while the other one makes its way up his shirt.

with one hand still around my neck, he guides me over to my bed and lays me down flat as he climbs on top of me. “can i?” he asks, toying with the strap of my top. “pls chris” i whine. he unties my top and yanks it off, his mouth immediately meeting my nipple, his available hand massaging my other breast.

i throw my head back and moan as he does whatever he wants. next thing i know, his hand is coming off my throat, and down my body. he stops abt my bottoms before looking at me for confirmation. i nod desperately. his cold hands slip into my bottoms as his fingers meet my clit.

i’m a moaning mess at this point, begging for whatever contact i can get. “god you’re fucking soaked.” he says, his voice raspy and quiet. “fuck chris please touch me.” i beg “whatever you want princess” he says before putting his ring and middle finger inside of me. he quickly pumps in and out for a few seconds before i cut him of. “chris wait” i say

“are you okay did i do something wrong?” he questions. “no but i have an idea.” i tell him. i then instruct him to lay on his back and put his head on the pillow. i watch as he does what i say. once he’s situated i ask him “can i sit on your face?”

i laughed a little inside about how innocent it sounded. “of course princess” he says. i make my way closer to him as i put my legs on either side of his head. i slightly lower myself down, enough to make contact.

my legs shake as i try to hold myself up while he eats me. he lifts me up a little and says “don’t be shy baby, suffocate me.” he grips my waist harder as he pulls me down all the way onto his face. my back arches at the contact.

chris eats me like i was his last meal, i grip the headboard, and struggle to stay quiet while his nose rubs my clit. “chris i’m g-gonna cum” i whine. one of his hands come off my waist and grabs my ass, massaging it. my legs squeeze his head. and i moan uncontrollably as i release all over his face.

after i come down from my high, i get off and straddle his waist. i lean down and kiss him, tasting myself. i grind on his hard on while we kiss, making him grunt. i reach my hand down and palm his boxers as his body twitches.

i go for the band of his swim shorts and slowly pull them down, exposing his hard dick. i look him in the eyes, to get his consent “y/n please” is all i need to hear before i slowly stroke him. he moans and tosses his head back

after a few more strokes, i sit up and line myself up with him. i slowly lower myself onto him, wincing at his size as i feel him in me. once i’m fully sat, i sit still for a minute to adjust. once i’m ready i start bouncing up and down. he puts one hand on my waist to guide me, as the other one makes it way to mu sensitive clit.

“ughh chris don’t stop” i whine as i ride him. my words make him rub my clit even faster than before. my eyes are now practically stuck in the back of my head as i moan out for him. when i’m about to finish, i clench around him, making his mouth fall open. i come all over him, as he helps me through my high

“good job princess.” he grunts i keep riding him until i feel him twitch. “you feel so good pretty girl. i’m almost there.” i clench again, becoming slightly overstimulated. just then he releases, inside of me. after he comes down i slide off and plop on my bed.

“you okay princess?” he asks with concern “overstimulated” is all i can bring myself to mutter. chris picks me up and lays me in a more comfortable spot on the bed. he then heads to my bathroom and comes back with a towel. he helps clean me off before he finds the shorts and shirt i had on earlier.

he helps me put them on, then he puts his shorts on and goes to his room. i feel sad in that moment. how could he to all of that just to leave? just then he enters my room with pajama pants on. “don’t worry i’m not going anywhere.” he whispers as he crawls into bed with me.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n: kinda love this what do u think?

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling my her ex I read her poetry?

I (F19) dated my ex (F18, Lacy) for about 9 months. I broke up with her because she had a lot of issues I just didn't know how to deal with and I also fell in love with my best friend (NB19, Alex, he/his pronouns), so I decided it was the best course of action. I broke up with Lacy on January of 2023 and started dating Alex in February.

Around this time, I found an Instagram account that posted poetry. There was nothing that could identify the author, but the poetry was really good so I started to follow them. With time, however, the poems started to look... familiar. Not the writing style, but some situations on them, for example: one of them said something like "your brother's night sky truck that took us to the stars" (my older brother has a dark blue truck he would lend me so I could take Lacy on dates) and another said "that old guitar you had that you never learned to play like you played me" (I have an old guitar I inherited from my father and I indeed never learned how to play it). These are only two examples, but I found many others that convinced me that account belonged to Lacy.

I know I should have left it alone the second I realized the account belonged to her, but it was so flattering to see she wrote all of that about me. I didn't tell anyone, not my friends or Alex, but I kept following the account and reading Lacy's poetry. I think my feelings for her started to rekindle after that, because no one ever wrote about me like that and, as months passed, she kept writing about me. She never got over me.

My relationship with Alex also started to have problems during this time. He got a job at an ice cream parlour and he started a D&D campain with his friends, which means we started to spend less and less time together. He didn't seem to be as interested in me as he was during our first months of relationship, and I feel like he's taking me for granted. Lately, more specifically since December, we started to fight a lot over small things too.

We went to a New Year's party one of our friends was hosting and Lacy was there too. That enough was reason for Alex to start complaining, since he has a lot of feelings of jealousy regarding her. We ended up having a fight because he thought I knew she'd be there, which I didn't, and he went to stay with our friends, avoiding me the whole night.

It was New Year's eve and I had just fought with my partner, who was monopolizing all of our friends and leaving me by myself, so I started to drink. I know that wasn't a good idea, but I was angry and frustrated and I thought that would help. It didn't, I just got super drunk.

Since my filter disappears when I'm drunk, I went after Lacy and told her her poetry was really good. At first she was confused, so I said I found her poetry account and her poems were amazing, and I was flattered she still thought about me like that, because I didn't think anyone else ever saw me in such a beautiful way.

After that, the panic in her eyes became clear. She started to cry, not full on sobbing but some tears rolled down her face and she didn't answer me, just left. Alex saw the interaction and came to ask me what happened. I ended up telling him about Lacy's poetry account, we fought again and I decided to go home. In that same night, I searched for the poetry account and it was deleted.

This whole situation didn't leave my head since it happened and I don't know what to think. Alex has also been avoiding me and I don't understand why everyone seems to be against me. Lacy blocked me everywhere and I'm beginning to think leaving her for Alex was a huge mistake. It was also never my intention to make Lacy feel like she had to delete her account.

AITA for telling her I knew about the poetry account?

What are these acronyms?

[igotanidea]

Home : bat!family x bat!sister

Summary: no one gets to offend my siblings and father. No one but me. I'll make sure of it.

***

Maybe it was a bad idea to apply for that Erasmus program and leave her brothers and adoptive father alone for whole three months. Sure, studying abroad, expanding knowledge, learning language and customs was an amazing experience, but it came with the cost. The price of being in fear that her family would get themselves in trouble, pain, fight they could not recover from.

The first two weeks of her adventure was the worst, since she was waking up at most random night hours, ready to jump into fight, those vigilantes instincts and habits kicking in.

Those were the nights when she was turning and tossing in her bed unable to close an eye and in result sneaking out her dorm room and walk around the campus like the ghost. The quietness and peacefulness of her surroundings at the academy were so different from those she knew in Gotham, it was almost disturbing.

There was no denying that Y/N was the smartest in the family, even Tim admitted it once (obviously not while talking to her, but she overheard his conversation with Bernard) but at times like this she was second-guessing her choices.

Due to her specific upbringing and family background she also never managed to form any deep connection with her fellow students, preferring to stay by herself, focus on the task and putting a lot of work into expanding her knowledge and skills in technology. She never complained, but from other people’s perspective she was an eremite. Kind, polite with perfect manners when someone asked her for something or while working in group, but still highly reserved. Just like her adoptive father, whose relation to she was trying to keep a secret. And it worked up to the day when one of the lecturers accidentally called her  “Miss  Wayne” in front of the whole class. The second he did it the air in the auditorium froze. She might have been in different country, but for God’s sake she was studying technology, of course everyone heard about the Wayne Enterprises and the  Bruce Wayne.

“You’re his daughter?” one of the boys in the lower row turned around and eyed her suspiciously

“Yes. Adoptive one.”

“Of course. He’s well known for taking kids in, right? Seems like some sort of complex or maybe even a disease” he smirked and it made the girl clench her fist. Her relationship with Bruce might have been rocky, but no one except her and her brothers were allowed to judge and offend him.”

“Care to elaborate on that?” she hissed, eyeing the guy with ice cold gaze

“Miss Y/L/N! Mister Olsen! Please calm down and sit down!” the teacher tried to make up for his mistake but it was far too late for that.

“You misspelled my name once, might as well keep calling me Wayne now.”  the tone of her voice matched the gaze. She was not going to let the guy easily, but getting in trouble with the dean was not a part of her plan. “Now, can we continue with the lecture? I don’t know about anyone else in her, but speaking for myself I would love to actually learn something useful.”

***

Y/N was the middle child. Younger than Dick and Jason, older than Tim and Damian which placed her literally halfway  in the family. Because of that she was a mix of responsibility and carelessness, doing her own thing, not always the right way, but still capable of getting away with a lot more than the others. Not as family oriented as Dick, feeling a bit overshadowed by Jason, highly competitive with Tim and more independent and individualistic than Damian. Still, even despite her “boss bitch” attitude, she was sandwiched between her brothers which made her the best negotiator and mediator in the family. Y/N also had a strong sense of fairness and morality and would always try her best to do the right things. Objectively, not subjectively. And making fun of her family was not one the things she could forget. However, before taking any action she had to gather intel, figure out what the guy knew and then come right at him.

***

Waiting till the end of the class was probably the greatest torture she ever had to endure, every minute stretching into infinity and when it was over the sense of relief almost made her drop the plan. Almost.

“I’m not done with you, Olsen.” she was faster to the door, stopping her potential victim from getting away.

“You want more, Wayne?”

“Please. Hit me with your best shot. What is your problem with my family, exactly?”

“Let me think” he tapped his chin. “There are so many. Like for instance, your oldest brother. What was his name again? Oh, right! Dick. Suits him quite well, doesn’t it. A prick, if you ask me. Definitely a show-off with no skills.” He scoffed “Shall I continue?”

“ Please. You got like three more people to gossip about.”

“The second in line, Jason, right? Oh, the unhinged  one. Violent, mocking, thinking he is better than anyone else around, when in reality he’s just a lost, scared child. Probably a dumbass too.”

“Pretty sure he would agree with that. Now what about Tim and Damian?”

At this point Olsen was getting a bit surprised that the girl in front of him was still unfazed. Her calmness, a sign of silent inside fury making him slightly uncomfortable.   Not enough to stop however.

“Drake…..” the name rolled of his tongue while the boy was wondering what words to choose “oh, he’s the gay one, right? Such a shame that the renowned Wayne family has someone like that as a member. Bet your father would never take him in, if he knew. A fairy becoming the next CEO of his renowned company. How ironic!”

“Hm.” Oh, Y/N was so much like Bruce at times and it showed in the least expected moments.

Damn that girl! How could it not make her angry?

“And …… Damian, the only biological child. Absolutely maladjusted and unaware of social norms and boundaries. Tell me, how was it like to have your youngest brother violate your boundaries and personal space?”

“It was. ….educatory. Just like it was with everything you just said. You presented yourself as someone with some serious psychological issues and possibly an unhealthy interest in my family’s life. So thank you, it truly was illuminating.”

***

“What the hell did you do Y/N?” a very alerted Dick appeared  on the other side of the screen

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” The girl sighted and fell onto the cushions bringing the computer onto her lap to see her brother better

“Don’t lie to me now, sis.”

“I wouldn’t even dream of it.”

“Bruce has been on the phone for the last fifteen minutes and from what I figured it’s about something that happened on the campus.”

“The only thing happening on the campus are students who skip classes.” She mumbled “maybe except that one time when one of the boys lost some stupid bet and blew up the fountain as some sort of punishment. That was funny.”

A little grunt was heard on Dick’s side and for a second he disappeared from the screen.

“Dick?”

“Sorry, I had a little interruption.” He rubbed his forehead “Now, back onto what you did…..”

“Did you say that someone blew the fountain?” third face appeared on the screen in the corner, taking over the conversation.

“Hello, Jason.”

“Hi sis. Maybe I should have joined you in your academic career. Seems like you have a lot of fun there. Besides, I never really finished school, since you know…. I died.”

“We know.” Y/N and Dick said in unison

“Always a good opportunity to remind you, right?” he grinned “Now, sis, tell me, how was it going full rogue on fellow student? I gotta admit I’m proud of you here.”

“So that’s what this is about?” Dick’s eyes grew wider than ever “I;m gonna ask you once again, Y/N. what did you do?”

“Nothing permanent.”

“What…..?”

“Cut her some slack, Grayson.”

“Look who decided to join us.” Y/N smirked “improved your computer skills much, Damian?”

“I got tired of being left out.”

“Since when do you care about the group?”

“Leverage, sis. Knowledge is power, I thought you knew that.”

“Ok, that is enough!” Dick finally lost his patience “I’m trying to have a conversation with my little sis here. Both of you, get out of the line!”

“Mhm, keep dreamin’ Dickhead.”

“For once I agree with Todd.”

“You have no right to…..”

“Guys…..” Y/N tried to mitigate them, but deep inside she enjoyed their bantering. It was a while since she experienced it and only now realized how familiar it was.

“I was here first!” Dick yelled “And I’m the oldest”

“No one cares Grayson! You are a Bludhaven resident now.  Just because you visit the manor does not mean you can keep Y/N busy using the wayne’s devices!”

“Don’t you have someone to kill in the crime alley, Jay?”

“Unlike you, I succeeded in all my latest missions.”

“Is that what you call coming back to your safe house bloodied and injured. You were on the verge of death!” Damian smirked “you were absolutely inept, that’s not a success.”

“You were what, now?!” Y/N shrieked. Her second oldest brother was sometimes too careless.

“It was not that bad, Y/N, I swear. And how the fuck do you know about it, demon?”

“I have my ways.”

“I would suspect Drake of spying on me, but you?”

“Speaking of the devil, I’m surprised Tim hasn’t already join us.” Dick muttered

“Oh, he did.” Y/N pointed out

“WHAT?” her brothers cried. Now there was another one fighting for her attention and it was not a secret that Tim was her favorite making the situation harder.

“I did.” Tim chuckled  “Well, to tell the truth Y/N let me in the channel. We have our ways with technology. Something none of you could ever fully understand. “

“Of course not….”

“Cheer up, Dami. You can’t monopolize all the areas.”

“I would beg to differ.”

“Ok, everyone hold up here. I think we lost the point of the conversation. The thing was that Bruce was on the phone, probably taking to the dean about….”

“Y/N played a little prank on her classmate, is that right?” of course Tim was the one who everything best.

 “He deserved it.”

“Y/n…..”

“Stop using the big brother voice on me! It’s not going to work!”

“How about we use Damian’s youngest one?” Dick teased

“I refuse to be used in this….”

“SHUT UP DAMIAN!” Dick and Jason shouted together and shared a murderous look between one another. Now they were both desperate to find out what happened since Tim would rather die than spill the bean. It was infuriating. They were the older brothers! This had to mean something.

“Ok, that’s it.” Damian stood up and the view of the empty chair in the place where his face should be was highly disturbing.

“That is not good.” Y/N said out loud something that all of them already knew. Her presumptions turned out to be right a second later when the shouting and yelling reverberated through the speakers and a blur of black and green rushed into Dick’s room.

“hey, I want to join the fight too!” Jason started up and with a speed, Wally West could be jealous of involved in the mix of limbs and screams.

“Wait! I though Dick was in Bludhaven! Tim?”

“Not today. We’re all in the manor.”

“And you idiots were talking to me through four different computers?”

“Are you actually surprised?”

“On second thought, not at all.” She sighed. It’s a good thing you are the reasonable one here…..”

“There you are, Timmy” now the situation has turned as it was Dick who appeared in the door of Tim’s bedroom “you are not  getting out of this. If you want Y/n to yourself you have to fight me.”

“And me!” Jason tackled Dick to the ground with a loud thump

“Losers!” Damian jumped over their bodies and came right at Tim

Because of their actions, Y/N was the only one who noticed two men stepping from the shadows and exchanging some words. Apparently Bruce wasn’t capable of putting the boys in their places and asked Alfred to try this instead. And a single grunt from the butler did a miracle as all of them stood up and started explaining and apologizing. Funny as it was, Y/N knew that with Bruce’s arrival she was heading straight towards preaching from her father.

“Y/N.”

“Hello Bruce.”

“Did you break his arm?”

“You broke his arm?” Dick was halfway out but turned back immediately

“No.” Y/n shook her head “I broke his arm and hurt his legs.”

“Don’t forget that you also demolished his dorm room.”

“That wasn’t me. That was….”

“Did you go at him as a vigilante? Wow! Way to go, sis. Now I truly am proud of you.”

“Ok, both of you, out!” Bruce lost the rest of his patience pushing Dick and Jay away. “Now that we are alone…….” he sighed deeply closing the door tight  

“I;m not sorry.”

“Oh, I know. And I’m not mad, because I’m sure you had a reason to do it. So tell me, why?”

“you…. you want to know ?”

“Of course. Look Y/n, I’m aware I won’t get  a father of the year cup from you, but I care all right? Did that boy hurt you and you took retaliation? Just tell me….”

“He was talking shit about our family.”

“And you felt the urge to protect the Wayne’s honor?” Bruce smirked “this is so not like you.”

“Honor, my ass. We’ve lost that ages ago, Bruce. The only thing I was protecting was my sole privilege of mocking you. No one else is allowed to do it.”

“I’ll be sure not to tell your brothers that you miss them. “

“That would be most welcome.”

“And you have to know that we don’t miss you either, y/n.” father and daughter’s gazes met and they both nodded in silent agreement, right corners of their mouths lifting almost unnoticeable. “You coming to visit next week?”

***

Something was wrong.

Something was terribly wrong and that tingling sensation became unbearable the second she climbed the manor’s stairs and reach for the doorknob with a heartrate so fast it would send anyone else straight into cardiac arrest. Y/N however kept her cold blood, focusing on what may happened inside and considering her options and strategies for a potential fight.

She could not expect  that the moment she opened the door four figures would jump out from the shadows making the noise that would bring the dead from behind the grave. It startled her and as a result she stumbled back, hitting the wardrobe and making it shake. She could not expect that on said wardrobe there would be packets and packets of paint and that those would fall down straight on her making her look like some abstractionism painting.

“I hate you all.” She muttered while her brothers run away in four different directions.

“Welcome home, miss Y/N” Alfred approached her with a tissue so she could at least wipe the paint from her eyes.

“Home.” She whispered “Yes, it definitely feels like it.”

It was good to be back.

But she was still going after them. .....

Later. When they would least expect it.

[yandere-metal-family]

hiiii this is my first metal family request and I feel a bit silly but this is my new obsession....

if it doesn't inconvenience you, could I have a yandere dee x reader?

the reader is sheltered and usually keeps to herself because she's shy and has a hard time making new friends. She's very innocent and tries to see the best in everyone, which is how she doesn't pick up on dee's yandere tendencies and just brushes them off as him being nervous or something

tysm in advance!

Lol yeah this is a more normal request tbh

Pt II: WIP

Moving to a new school in the middle of the year was the worst thing in the world. It was one thing to go at the beginning of the year, but the middle of the year- Everyone already had established relationships and such.

It didn't help that you weren't the most extroverted person in the world, so you doubted you'd ever make friends.

---

You went into class before school started, because there was no way you were going to introduce yourself to the class. The teacher, who had his head in papers, looked up when hearing you enter and told you to sit at the third table. There was a kid named 'Dee'[?] who sat there by himself.

When the bell rung, you felt the anxiety run down your spine. You hoped no one asked you anything or mentioned anything, because you would rather die than to be noticed.

That was short lived when a blonde kid spoke to you.

"Move."

You looked at him, a little flustered, "Excuse me?"

He gestures to the seat that he was leaning on and you made an 'Ooh,' face and moved seats.

---

Dee's eyes stayed on you during the whole period. You didn't look over at him once, because you wanted to pretend that maybe he wasn't looking at you and it was just your paranoia, but you were almost positive that he was looking at you.

Dee was interested in you. He knew you were new, obviously, but where were you from? Why are you here? What's your name? So and so.

He felt weird being so interested in another person, because he usually didn't care about other people. But he liked new things- and you were a new toy.

He looks down at your hands to see that were painted a nice dark purple, almost black, color. When the teacher's back is turned he nudges you.

You look over at him, a little confused, before he gestures towards your nails.

"I like your nails."

"Oh, thanks?"

After that he doesn't talk to you for the rest of the class.

---

You pack your bag, before finally leaving the school. You were glad it's over and thankful no one had approached you.

---

Dee wasn't listening to his brother. His eyes were instead focused on the school's interest. Heavy noticed his brother's lack of interest and looked over to the closed doors.

"Who are you waiting for?"

Dee looked at his brother, annoyed, "Nothing."

"Okay, are you ready to leave then?"

"No."

Dee was so quick to respond that it had taken Heavy by surprise. "Then what are we waiting for?"

"Nothing..."

He turns around, thinking maybe you had already left. But as he's about to leave, he hears the door open and looks back and is thrilled when seeing you. He is thrilled and walks up to you, leaving his brother behind.

"Uh, Y/n, right?"

You looked up at the voice to see the guy from one of your classes. You think he was an emo? You were unsure of which he was, but you were almost positive it was like emo punk kind of thing.

"Uh, yeah. Dee right?"

He smiles at his name, "Yeah. Uh, do you want me to walk you home? You know, so you're not alone?"

"Sure, yeah. Thank you."

He walks with you down the stairs, Dee ignoring his brother's call, but that doesn't last long.

You were confused when an orange haired boy came up to you and Dee. The kid looks at Dee, complaining about how Dee was ditching him.

"Oh, do you have to walk your little brother home?"

Dee grimace, rolling his eyes, before turning to you, "No, he can walk by himself. He's fine. Let's go," He quick to push you past Heavy, hoping that Heavy would get the hint.

[lunajay33]

Change

•🩰🎀🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

•Masterlist•

I’ve always wanted to dance, to strap on pretty pink ballet slippers and wear the tights and everything, ever since I was a little girl and first watch Swan Lake, watching how there was a light beautiful side but how also a dark side to a person it hooked me, but that dream was quickly crushed when my parents refused, saying they didn’t have enough money to put me in ballet because my older brothers football was more important and they couldn’t afford both at once

It’s always been like that, whatever my brother wanted he’d get within a reasonable price, but when I asked for the simplest things they would get mad and always turn me down, saying I should get a job if I ever wanted anything. So that’s exactly what I did, I got a waitressing job at the little diner in town, working after school and on weekends just hoping to be able to save enough for ballet classes, but balancing school and work everyday is exhausting and having a terrible home life ontop of that doesn’t help

My older coworker told me to make some friends and that might help things, help distract myself for a while and have a person to relay on for once but it wasn’t so simple, if you weren’t drop dead gorgeous, or had nice clothes and money in my school then the girls treated you like a ghost

So here I am sat at my usual bench under the wilting tree behind the school for lunch, sitting in the cafeteria all alone at a whole table felt pathetic, embarrasing, plus it was more comforting here, no pry judgemental eyes, plus the air out here smelt of fall, fallen crisp leaves, the towns forest right behind the school, it was comforting

I finished my lunch putting the book I was ready away in my bag and made my way back for my next class, biology and today we were getting a new seating arrangement, one I’ve been waiting for the whole month since I was sat next to one of the mean girls, I took my seat right as the bell rang

“Okay class today we are moving around, so find your spots” she said as she projected the new seating up on the board, I found my name at the second table to the back on the left, I made my way noticing I was sat with Daryl Dixon. He was quiet, usually kept to himself kind of like me, people would always talk bad about him but never dared say anything if his older brother was around, I remember the times my brother would complain about how obnoxious Merle Dixon was….as if he wasn’t the exact same

I plopped down next to him taking out my books and pencil case

“Hi”

“Hey” he said keeping his eyes on the table

That’s all we said to each other the whole period until the end of class

“Okay everyone, whoever you’re sitting with is now going to be your new lab partner, you’ll be working on this project together outside of class and it’ll be due at the end of next week, so I advise you figure out a time and place to work on this” she said as she handed out papers seeing it was a project on the cycle of frogs and their habitats

There was 10 minutes left in class for us to figure out how to get this project done, I turned in my seat looking at Daryl, up close I noticed he was actually kinda cute in a mysterious way

“Would you like to come to my house tomorrow so we can work on it?” I asked as tomorrow was Saturday

“Sure” I wrote down my address and gave it to him right when the bell rang

I was getting ready for Daryl to come over, I don’t know why I was so nervous maybe because I’ve never really had many people over and that my parents and brother were psychotic and mean and I didn’t want him to witness that. I looked in the mirror brushing out my hair that I’ve combed through a hundred times already, hoping my outfit was nice enough, a whiteish sweatshirt that had a hint of blush pink to it, paired with black leggings just wanting to be comfortable but hopefully still cute, that’s when I heard a knock at the door

“ILL GET IT!” I screamed not wanting anyone else to answer especially not my brother since he knew Daryl was Merle’s brother

I stood infront of the closed door huffing out a breath to calm my jitters, I opened it and there he stood, hands in pockets with his usual gruff demeanor

“Come in” I said stepping aside for him to come in

“Do you wanna work in my room?”

“Sure” he said as he kicked off his shoes

I lead the way to my room, it wasn’t a big house so it wasn’t like we had to go down hallways to get to my room, I closed the door when we got in as he dropped his notebook on my bed looking around my room which made me anxious, my walls had little framed photos of Swan Lake, little painting of ballet slippers, my room wasn’t much since my parents put so much into Jackson’s room but these photos were all I had to keep me happy

“Nice room” he said with a smirk

“You don’t have to lie” I said smiling as I crawled on my bed sitting up against the head board as he followed to sit at the foot of the bed

“I ain’t, it’s…..different, do ya dance?” He asked looking back to the pictures I adored

“No, I’ve always dreamed of it though”

He looked at me with a strange look I couldn’t read

“Well why don’t ya?”

“My parents won’t let me, said Jackson football is my important and will lead to something” I said shrugging my shoulders, if anyone could understand brother problems it would be him

His usual glaring eyes softened but I didn’t want the pity, I thought about my crushed dream enough I didn’t want to think about it more so I flipped open the text book to the section we needed and we got to work, it was silent for the most part and I welcomed it, until we took a break

“Merle says yer brother is always runnin his mouth, talks bad about ya” my heart thumped in my chest, Jackson could say anything about me and I’d have no way to deny it since no one really liked me and he had his whole football team full of guys who only thought with one thing

“What does he say?” I asked nervously

“Says yer a weirdo, says ya run around sleepin with every guy on his football team” my heart felt like it stopped and shrivelled up

“What……..I would never, I can’t believe he would say that, I don’t know why he hates me so much” I said as my bottom lip quivered try to control myself, not wanting to cry infront of him and make him uncomfortable

“Merle an I, we don’t believe ‘em……..plus it ain’t like everyone else in that damn school ain’t like that” he said looking back down at his note book, fidgeting with his pencil

“It would be better if I had friends that would believe me and be on my side” I said huffing a little sarcastic laugh

“I can be yer friend” he said so quietly I almost didn’t hear him

“You don’t have to pity me, I know you don’t like people” he looked back up at me with he glaring expression but for some reason it didn’t bother me

“I ain’t pitying ya, yer one of the few people that don’t annoy me at school, yer nice and keep to yer self” he said bluntly making my heart flutter

“Okay, I’d like to be friends then!” I said smiling as we both went back to work

After 2 hours of going back and forth working and talking we got the project done, I led him to the door standing there as he laced up his shoes, I opened the door as he stood back up

“So uhh, ya wanna hang out again tomorrow?” He asked gripping his backpack strap

“Sure, I have a shift at the diner in the morning but you can come by and we can eat there after I’m done, I get a discount!” I said excited

“Sounds good” he said about to leave before I stopped him

“Wait, here’s my number, it’s for my room phone so you can call anytime if you want” I said handing him a piece of paper with my number

“I’ll call ya later then, see ya” he said in his gruff voice as he left watching him disappear up the side walk

It was the next day and I was almost done my shift, I’d covered a lot of tables and was now just wiping down the counter waiting to see Daryl walk through the door, the door bell chimed and I looked up excited but instead it was Jackson and some of his football team members, they came in loud and obnoxious as usual

They came to the counter, filling three seats along the counter

“Jackson what are you doing here?” I asked putting down the rag I was using

“Oh come on sis we’re just hungry” he said sarcastically as his friends laughed with him

I sighed taking out my pad “well what do you wanted?”

“I wanna see you bent over my truck” his friend said, I was disgusted but I wasn’t good with this kind of thing

“Cute little thing like you mmmmm, what I wouldn’t do” his other friend said

I was beyond embarrased I just wish someone could help me, and as if my prayers were answered someone came in to intervene

“Leave er alone jackasses” I looked down to a seat further down the counter seeing it was Daryl, he must have just came in

“Oh ya and what’re you gonna do Dixon?”

“Just get outta here” he said sending a glare that could kill, they huffed and got up with a commotion

“Whatever, we’ll see you around bitch” they said to me before they left, I made my way to where Daryl was seated my face felt so hot

“Sorry you had to see that?” I said giving him a glass of water

“Do they do that often?”

“Ya usually when I’m working on the weekend, they think it’s funny”

“I can get Merle, set them straight” he said making me smile

“Nah it’s not your problem but thank you, I’m kinda use to it by now, even though it incredibly embarrassing” I said covering my cheeks

“Anyways, I’m done now so I’ll go clock out and be right back” I said trying to change the subject, I walked to the back taking of my waist apron and got my purse

“You done for the day sweetie?” My older coworker May asked

“Yeah, but me and my friend are going to have some lunch here”

Her eyes lit up “Friend? Did you finally manage to snatch someone up” she said twirling her pen as she smacked on her cherry gum she always had in her mouth

“Yes, he’s just easy to be around”

“HE?”

“Yes May my friend is a boy don’t get all crazy, but he’s waiting so I have to go before he thinks I left” I said blushing as I went back out and sat next to him at the counter

May took our orders and left to attend to the other few customers that were still here

“So why do ya work here?” He asked

“My parents said if I ever wanted anything I needed to get my own money, plus I’m trying to save to be able to afford ballet classes, it may be stupid but it’s my dream”

“It ain’t stupid, yer workin fer what ya want, I get that” his voice was kind but the grumble to it made me tingle

“Thanks, do you work anywhere?” I asked as May gave us our meals, my strawberry milkshake and grilled cheese, and Daryl’s coke with a burger and fries

“Sometimes I work on fixin people’s bikes ‘round town ta make some extra money, Merle said I’d make more if I did what he did but I don’t wanna fall into that crowd” I knew what Merle did, the whole town did

“Maybe one day we can get outta this town where people won’t judge us and we can have actual good jobs”

“Ya maybe”

With that we silently ate our food until we finished and May gave us our checks with my discount then we were leaving heading the door bell chime

We walked down to my house as neither of us had cars, until we stopped infront of the house awkwardly

“Lunch was nice, thanks for coming bye, you can come anytime”

“ ‘course, I’ll……I’ll see ya tomorrow then?”

“Ya I’ll see you tomorrow Daryl” I said smiling as we went separate ways, I closed the door to the house my heart thumping against my chest

I finally had a friend

Part.2

This will be a series so if you like to be added to the taglist and get notified of the next part comment below!!:)

Taglist: @deansapplepie

[dixons-sunshine]

Pull Through | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: While you were injured with no way of knowing if you'd make it or not, Daryl let the group in on his feelings. He shares some of his memories with you, as well as some of his worries.

Genre: Angst.

Era: Prison, post season three, pre season four.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU, but can be read as a standalone. However, some call backs are made to previous parts in this.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries.

Word count: 1.2k.

A/n: I've had this idea in my mind for another part to the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU for a while now, but I just don't know how to put it into a proper fic. This is more of a filler than an actual fic, but anyways. Hope you like this!

“Ya know, Shane wasn't the first person to tell me tha' I dun' deserve her.”

Rick looked up from his daughter to look at the archer, Daryl holding his own five month old baby girl in his arms. Rick's heart broke at the sight of his found brother's clear distress evident on his face. He was staring off at nothing in particular, thankfully lucid enough to keep Hazel in place on his lap. It was clear that your recent injury had taken its toll on Daryl, and Rick knew that if you didn't wake up from your little coma, Daryl would be a mess; he would be a bigger mess than Rick was when he lost Lori.

“My whole life, even 'fore I grew the balls to confess to her, people were tellin' me tha' I dun' deserve her, tha' I ain't good 'nough fer her, tha' she'll see it herself and leave me.” Daryl stopped for a moment, his attention temporarily being diverted to his daughter who was starting to fuss a little. He whispered sweet nothings to her in the hopes of calming her down, slightly bouncing his leg and successfully coaxing a giggle from her. “But she never left. Even when things weren't all sunshines and rainbows, she stayed. She loved me regardless of all of my flaws, and god knows I have a shit ton of 'em. She ain't ever even thought 'bout walkin' outta the door, even when she could'a, and I wouldn't have blamed her.”

By now, a few people in the group has stopped to listen to the usually quiet archer. Beth, Maggie, Glenn, Sasha, Tyreese, Hershel, Michonne, Carl and Carol stopped to listen to him. It was extremely rare to hear Daryl talk about anything outside of the usual “formal” work talk—who would go on runs, who'd work on the fence, etc.—so everyone was intrigued to hear the brooding huntsman speak his mind.

“She deserved so much better than me, and I know tha', but she didn't think so. She stuck with me through everythin'. Through most'a my childhood, through highschool, through Merle and his bullshit, everythin'.” Daryl inhaled sharply and let out a shaky exhale, trying to keep his emotions under control. “She always managed to make the most outta everythin'. When I saw a glass tha' was half empty, she saw a glass tha' was half full. Ya know, our first apartment we lived in after movin' outta her mom's trailer was so shitty.”

“Yeah?” Rick replied, just letting Daryl know that he was listening.

“Yeah,” Daryl confirmed with a broken chuckle, nodding his head and allowing Hazel to play with his fingers. “Hot water didn't work most'a the time, the oven only worked when it wanted to, the pipes made this weird screeching sound whenever it was cold, and the window to our bedroom was jammed shut. It never opened, so it was hella hot in the summer.” He sighed again and shook his head. “We lived in tha' crappy place fer years 'fore either of us had 'nough money to move into a better place. But she never complained, never threatened to leave me if I didn't find a better apartment, never once blamed me when she had to take a cold shower in the winter. Hell, she even planned on proposin' to me 'cause I was takin' too long.” For added emphasis, he lifted his left hand to show off the silver band he proudly wore every day of his life since that day in your apartment. “I beat her to it, though. She's jus' so amazin'. I love her. I can't lose her. I'll die without her.” And with that last sentence, a sob finally broke out of the archer's chest.

Within seconds, Rick had gently grabbed Hazel from Daryl's arms and passed her over to Carol—who had been on her way to offer her own support to the huntsman—before wrapping his arms around his unofficial brother. Judith had been passed over to Beth during Daryl's speech to be put down for the night, so it made it easier for the former sheriff to jump up and hug Daryl. The archer never once displayed any forms of sadness in front of the group that had to do with crying. His sadness was usually handled through anger, but this wasn't a usual situation. You—the love of his life and the mother of his baby girl—were clinging on for dear life in your weakened state. The attackers that ambushed the group of people who went on the run the previous day made you suffer the worst of the attack. Hershel did his best with the supplies he had, but there was no telling if you'd recover until you woke up, if you ever woke up. And that scared Daryl beyond belief.

Rick didn't hold Daryl long, maybe two minutes at most, until he pulled away. Daryl furiously wiped at the tears in his eyes, mad at himself for displaying such weakness in front of everybody. However, nobody made any sort of comment towards him, their own understanding and worry towards you preventing them from doing so.

“If there's one thing I know,” Rick began, standing up and allowing Daryl to have some space. “It's that you Dixons are fucking stubborn. She'll pull through, I know it.”

Daryl sniffed and nodded, wiping his eyes one more time before getting up and gently taking his daughter from Carol. “She needs to be put to bed soon. She, uh, needs to see her mama 'fore it, though, jus' in case...”

Just in case you didn't make it.

Rick nodded sympathetically, and with that, Daryl walked away from everyone's empathetic gazes. He walked up the stairs and made his way to the makeshift medical cell, expecting to see you asleep, like you had been for over twenty-four hours at that point. However, he was instead met with the sight of you sat up and crouched over to the side, heaving and clutching at your chest, awake and alert, and he didn't hesitate to call for help.

“Hershel!”

Within seconds, the old man had hobbled himself over to the cell and was by your side in an instant. He was helping you put an oxygen mask over your mouth to help you breath, and once you weren't struggling to breathe anymore, he sent a frightened looking Daryl a reassuring smile. He beckoned him closer, and with Hazel still in his arms, he walked over to you and sat down on the bed, hugging you gently and quickly before pulling back—there would be time to crush you to him and never let you go when you weren't sat with a recently shot stomach and a few broken ribs. Hershel patted his back reassuringly, and he sent a very awake, lucid you a warm smile.

“Welcome back.” He turned to Daryl and nodded. “She pulled through.”

“S'a good sign, righ'?”

For the first time in twenty four hours, Hershel gave the archer good news. “It's a damn good sign.”

You were grunting and reaching out to Daryl, and your husband instantly knew what you were requesting. With a nod from Hershel, Daryl slowly transfered Hazel into your arms, and your little one instantly recognized her mama's touch. Her mood instantly brightened, right alongside her father's.

You were okay. However, the same definitely wouldn't be said for the son of a bitch held prisoner as soon as Daryl was done with him later—he was going to pay for hurting you, and Daryl wasn't going to go easy on him, either.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[oonajaeadira]

Leave Off Your Wandering pt. 4: Winter

Fandom: The Last of Us (TV)/ Joel Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Reader: Adult female. Old enough to have been an adult on Outbreak Day. Wyoming born and bred. Sheep farmer, easy-going but confident and self-sufficient. Likes to sing, not a great cook. Childhood friend of Maria. No other physical descriptors; no use of y/n.

Rating: Mature.

Warnings: Mentions of sex but nothing explicit. Canon-typical violence, bodily harm, death,  (blood, broken bones, knife wounds, shooting, blunt force) and PTSD.

Summary: Revenge comes calling and you work though it as a family.

A/N: Series set after season 1 and then diverges. Does not acknowledge the existence of further plot/seasons, although it does use some characters/elements from the second game.

I’m so sorry it’s taken this long to get to winter. This one was difficult for me to face writing for reasons that may be made clear. But it was very rewarding. <3

The air is thin and cold this morning, takes your breath and makes a show of it as you quickstep it down to the stables. The sun is just starting to make the frost sparkle and no doubt Goldie will be using up the rest of the firewood at the Roost today.

Good thing you have a Joel who’s ready to chop more.

Although he’s also a Joel that’s forgotten his tea, the “stuff with the things in it” that Willa gave him for the stiffness in his knees. With this cold he’s going to want it today on patrol and the last thing you think you can stand is the tug in your heart when he comes home complaining of the cold and the ache and you sitting warm and cozy with his thermos on the counter when you had the legs to trot it on out to him.

It’s a relief to round the corner and find the patrol party still at the stable gate, Tommy helping one of the teens with their rifle strap, and Joel waiting on horseback, weaving his gloved fingers together, packing them down at the valleys to get his hands all the way in.

He’d laid one of those hands on your cheek this morning. Gentle. First thing you saw when you opened your eyes. Like most mornings now. His thumb rounding the rim of your cheek so he could lean in and take a good long drink of a kiss.

He likes it that way…soft, slow. Likes to pull you in as close as he can, twist his forehead into your temple when he hits his peak, jaw clenched in agonized pleasure, kisses along your jawline when you find yours, his eyes half-lidded and watching you in a hazy awe. He’s quiet but thorough, completely  present like he can’t believe he’s got this little slice of warmth, sighs a hushed curse in your ear and calls you sweetheart in the same breath, and then sleeps like a baby the whole night through.

He doesn’t like to talk about the past much, but listening’s your specialty and it comes out in bits and pieces, stuck between the little he does say. You come to understand that he very rarely got to be very close with anyone while Sarah was growing up. There were the years when everything was a nightmare. Then there was Tess and she brought him out of that, thank goodness. But it took time. And there was also denial and survival and means to their ends. There might indeed have been strong love there. But you have the feeling he’s not had this–or anything like it–for a long, long time.

So if he wants it soft and slow, then who are you to deny him?

Maybe it shouldn’t be so surprising that it was him who pulled you in a little closer.

“What if you didn’t move in with Tommy and Maria this winter?” He’d lingered the morning after Christmas, leaning one shoulder against the frame of your bedroom door, savoring the show of you getting dressed for the day.

“And waste the fuel? Why? So we can cuddle up now and then without your brother down the hall? You keep me plenty warm, Joel Miller, but I’m not going to heat this whole house just for me and your more-than-casual visits. Everyone’s got a responsibility here to conserve in the winter. This is how I do my part. And besides,” you purred as he stepped in to button up your flannel for you, freeing up your fingers so they could run through his curls, “I know where you live and your bed’s good as mine.”

“You seem to like it there well enough.”

“I do.” His beard was growing in all but a patch on his jaw that was now your right to kiss.

“Well I was thinkin’ we just make it ours for the winter.”

His hands had circled your hips and his words had stopped your heart, but there was little for to say with his lips pressed against yours.

So mornings often started as they did today, waking to find Joel beside you, roused because you can feel him watching you with that little half smile that reveals the crack in his weary heart where the light shines through. Who needs spring to come with sunshine like that to turn to? Now there are family breakfasts with Ellie and cozy days knitting in the company of Maria and Riley and then warm nights with Joel on one of those pillowtopped mattresses that were all the rage before the outbreak…the ones that are great when you have a stiff back, but even better because the springs don’t squeak…

“Aw dammit,” Joel says when he sees you nearing the stables with the thermos, “Knew I forgot something.”

“Two somethings,” you say pointing to his bare head and passing your hat up to him in the saddle. “Your ears are already bright red. Here. Take my hat.”

“This’s Ellie’s.”

“Huh. Guess I just grabbed one on my way out. Oops. Be a man. Wear a pompom.”

He pulls it down over his ears and smiles. “Matches my scarf.”

You’d had a small batch of deep red wool you’d managed to squeak a hat and scarf out of and gifting the hat to Ellie around Christmas, but the scarf went to Joel. He may not want anyone to think of him as sentimental, but it was worth your while to make it easy on him by giving him something that was also practical. Even if he had his jacket zipped up all the way, it was always there, tucked around his neck; he may leave his ears to the elements but he never went anywhere without that scarf.

The line of horses start making their way toward the Jackson gates and you squeeze Joel’s shin before stepping out of the way, letting him and his horse follow the group. He simply lets a gloved finger glance your cheek as he passes by.

All the way out here on this side of the apocalypse and humans still have a million variations on saying “I love having you around and I’d like to keep it that way.”

________

“Ellie’s more than welcome around here if you and Joel don’t want to leave her home alone.”

Maria’s lightly bouncing a wet-faced and blubbering Riley on her lap, trying to tempt him with a frozen carrot for his teething. He has tommy’s curls and they sproing with every boing.

“Nah, she wants to come out. We’ll be dividing the ewes and driving part of the flock into the old town for the rest  of the overwinter and she wants to see how it's done. Should see it, if she thinks she’ll be entering the rotation at any point. Speaking of,” you grunt, leaning down to gather your knitting basket and gather your things, “I promised I’d meet her after school. She’s gotten into collecting cassette tapes and the commissary says she’s hit her quota on goods this week. Gonna give up a couple credits so she can discover the wonders of Joan Jett and the Beastie Boys.”

“That’s throwing gas on the fire. She pick those out herself?”

“Nope. My points, my choice. And I say that girl needs to fight for her right to party and put another dime in the jukebox, baby.”

Maria rolls her eyes, chuckles, goes light on the sarcasm. “You’re the coolest auntie.”

“Don’t I know it,” you laugh, tying up your boots.

“Joel’s gonna just love that.”

Leaning in to bop a quick kiss to Riley’s head, you give Maria a crazed grin. “So much.”

Ten minutes later, Ellie has her doubts, holding up a cassette at the commissary. “But there’s a dinosaur on this one! How can it not be great?”

“Listen, missy. I’m not saying Dinosaur Jr. doesn’t have a place in music history, but I’m telling you that you’re likely to be disappointed. Trust me. Just this once.”

Ellie makes a face but you glance past it, distracted by what you see through the window behind her. Following your focus, she turns to look too. “Who’re they?”

All of the patrol horses coming back in have two people on them–a member of the party, and a stranger. And all the strangers can’t be more than teenagers.

“Dunno, but it looks like you’re about to get some new classmates. I’ll sign these out. You go ahead and make a good first impression.”

“You’re just sending me out there because you know if they’re infected, I can’t catch it.”

“If they were infected, they wouldn’t be on those horses or inside those gates. I’m sending you out there because you have a way of reading people. Go.”

Something in that puts a gasp in her throat and a sparkle in her eye and her ponytail whips behind her as she goes, striving to live up to the compliment.

But really, you just want half a minute to take a good look at the kids without Ellie asking questions. They’re all scrawny and filthy. Backpacks. Been traveling and living rough for a while now. Where’d they come from? What’s their story? Not an adult among them. How have they survived? You’d swear something feels off, but that’s the world now. Can’t be too careful. Everything seems off all the time. 

Question is, off by how much?

You find Joel in the group; he’s the only one riding with a kid in front of him rather than hanging on behind. And once he gets down off the horse and reaches up to help his passenger down, you can see why.

She’s pregnant.

Shit. She’s what, fifteen? Sixteen?

Shit.

“There’s a house up near mine has good plumbing turned on.” Tommy’s speaking over his shoulder to the small group and leading his horse to the stable door as you come out of the commissary. “We’ll get you all washed up and fed. There’s at least two beds there and some other furniture fit to sleep on if it makes you comfortable to stay together. Give me a minute to put Lady away here and we’ll walk on up together. Joel? A word?”

Handing off the pregnant girl’s backpack to her, Joel takes the reins of his horse and follows his brother inside, leaving the newcomers to look around them and take in the town.

All but one. A girl with hair that’s neither light brown or dark blonde, somewhere in between. Your mother would have called it dirty dishwater blonde and you always thought that was rude. But your mother also would have said the girl had a hatchet of a face with a strong jaw like that. And it’s that girl whose head whips around the second she heard Joel’s name, quickly scanning the patrol to ascertain who belonged to it, and stands watching the stable door in thought long after the Miller brothers were gone.

Was Joel her father’s name? Her brother’s? Is it hers or close to hers? Is she a Jo or Joelle?

“Abby. Hey,” a boy calls and she turns. “Mel should get a bed and we can share. Manny and Nora can share too…if you’re okay with taking a couch.”

“Fine,” Abby says. Her eyes and mouth all unmoving lines.

“Hey. Welcome to Jackson. I’m Ellie.” Your starling jams her hands in her pockets as all the new eyes turn her way. “It looks like you’ve been wandering. Where you coming from?”

The boy who spoke before blinks and opens his mouth to say something, hesitates. You’d take him for the leader up until the moment Abby speaks for him.

“West of here. QZ. Seattle.”

“Oh. Cool,” says Ellie with a bounce to her nod. Easy. Instantly welcoming. “I came out of Boston.”

Seattle QZ. The same one your dead husband and his sister came from. Not a good place. Warring factions and nothing but oppression and disease, last you heard. Good that they got out. They’re gonna need to be de-loused. 

But Seattle’s also much harder than most zones to break free of. You’ve been told the Western Liberation Front makes FEDRA look like a bucket of clowns.

“Seattle?” Now it’s your turn to pull focus from the group. “We’ve had refugees from there before. You really get out of there in one group like this? With no grown ups?”

Abby rips her eyes away from Ellie. “It’s a long story,” she says, shutting the questioning down.

There’s a moment that hangs between you and that stinks faintly of threat, but is mostly just the smell of feral kids. Tension breaks as the men emerge from the stable.

“We all ready?” Tommy says, making his way down the road and waving a hand for them to follow. “New home’s this way.”

Ellie starts to fall in with the group and you pull her back in close, speak low. “Go with them if you want, but keep your distance.”

“What? Why?”

“These are your first refugees. You’ll learn that they sometimes bring things with ‘em.”

Her face screws into a question mark. “What things?”

“Fleas. Lice. Viruses. Just give ‘em some space for a while.”

After the quickest flash of disgust, Ellie’s tried and true compassion kicks in and she gives an understanding nod as she turns to go, tape cassettes clattering in her jacket pocket.

You keep watching her even as you speak to the owner of the hand snaking around your waist. “Where’d you find them?”

“Up at the old crossing. They were under attack.”

“Jesus.”

“Nope. Infected.”

“Been a while since we’ve seen any of those stumble through here.”

“Infected? Or the kids.”

Turning to him in exasperation you look him over. “Both. And the same goes for you as for Ellie, Foxy. Let’s take you home and wash that scarf and hat. Run a fine-toothed comb through that hair just to make sure.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he says, stopping when he catches your zero-temperature glare. If it’s something else you love about Joel, he recognizes when something’s important to you and answers a lady with composure and respect. “Yes, ma’am.”

____

“You couldn’t have found her some Cash or Fleetwood Mac or something?”Joel grumbles into the fireplace as he places another log on the coal bed and moves the poker around like he’s doing something.

Ellie sits on a blanket near the fire, reading a comic book, headphones on, Joan Jett’s grinding guitar bleeding out into the otherwise quiet living room. With his face turned to the fire and Ellie facing away from you, she most likely can’t hear the conversation that’s happening around her if you keep your voices low.

“You’re just jealous that she asked me to pick something out instead of you,” you smile on the couch, picking up your feet and swinging them into his lap as he sits down beside you. “80’s rock is good for her spiky little soul.”

“80’s means trouble,” he counters, considering her as his hands absently squeeze and rub at your feet.

You go back to your book. Seemingly anyway. It’s easy to steal observing glances from where you are. The thoughtful concern he has for Ellie. You can see him looking over the wood in the hopper and calculating how many days of fuel he has before you all head out to the Roost. A twist of a lip tells you he’s realized he might be a day short and needs to chop more. His gaze drops to his lap as he lightly massages your feet–just running his hands along their contours, pressing a thumb in here and there to tenderize a muscle. The firelight loves him, plays at the edges of his curls, slides down his nose, kisses the purse of his lips.

You jump as he slides a tickling fingertip up the sole of one foot. “Hey!”

“What you get for staring.”

“I wasn’t staring at you, I was reading.”

“Must be pretty small print you don’t turn a page for five minutes.”

Taking off your readers and closing the book, you sit up and deposit them on the coffee table. From here it’s easy to scoot up to him and lean an elbow on the couch back. “What’s got you so thinky tonight, hmm? You look like you’ve got your worry pants on.” There’s a curl right behind his ear that’s so easy to twirl in your fingers and you indulge. You’ve found a little touch helps him open up.

“I can’t help thinking about those kids, thinkin’ they could just wander out in the world like that. If it weren’t for us hearing the runners….” He goes quiet a minute and you let him, his gaze haunting Ellie’s direction but living somewhere in the past. “They gotta be somebody’s kids. I can’t believe Seattle’s so bad they just let ‘em run wild…let ‘em run away from the best you got for ‘em.”

A faint guitar blares from Ellie’s headphones as she flips a page, purses her lips, absently nods along.

“Yeah, well teenagers rebel, Foxy. That’s what they do.”

“No,” he says, softly, resolutely, a tick of his jaw. “Not all of ‘em. Not if they’re loved. And fiercely. And I don’t know a love that isn’t fierce.”

It’s the look on his face that makes you believe him.

Love isn’t a word that Joel bandies about. It’s easy to see it work in him. The way he tells Ellie no when she wants to do something reckless but promises her something just as exciting, going to any length to make her smile. The way he holds Riley’s head in the crook of his arm, his other hand reflexively coming out in defense if anyone gets too near the baby’s soft spot. The way he shoves his brother with a laugh when Tommy picks on him or how he helps Maria to her feet when she’s been on the floor too long, even if she says she doesn’t need it.

The way he… with you he…

His hands work at your feet again. He understands the minute levels of his strength, knows how firm to go without bringing pain.

With you, it’s the way he rolls over and shows you his soft places, invites you in to be a part of it.

Not really what you’d call fierce. Does that mean he doesn’t–

“Is a cherry bomb like a little bomb or a big bomb?” Ellie asks, an earpad pulled away from her ear and spilling Cherie Currie’s stuttered chorus.

“It’s a little one. A firework. But it packs a big punch. It’ll take your fingers off. Hello, world, I’m your wild girl, I’m your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch cherry bomb,” you sing, pushing your foot against Joel’s thigh with every beat. 

“Alright, that’s it,” he says, wrapping a big hand around your ankle to secure it. “Ellie, run on up and get my guitar. Lemme teach you a better song.”

In the minute it takes for her to come back, Joel foregoes softness for force, tickling relentlessly, almost ending up with a foot in his face with how much you squirm.

___

Church isn’t really your thing, never was. You have your own way of listening to the beauty of the earth that doesn’t mean sacrificing a morning sleeping in to listen to lessons you’ve already learned and hold true.

But today you’ve come to the after-brunch curious to welcome the new residents and managed to show up a little early. So you’re standing in the back of the mess hall with Maria and Riley, waiting for the final hymn to end, for the preacher to call an end to the service and a beginning to the meal.

Maria leans in and murmurs in your ear as the final chorus comes. “Tommy and the crew are working on one of those bigger houses with the vaulted ceilings in the new district so the church can have its own building.”

“They’re not gonna like having to walk over there.”

She shrugs, adjusts Riley’s teething toy and bounces him up a notch. “Might cause some of them to move over there. Thin out the density. Easier on the power grid. We do have five new residents.” 

You watch as one of the new boys–Owen–helps the pregnant Mel to her feet. “Soon to be six.”

Once the kitchen starts serving, Owen and Mel find their way over to your table, eager to meet Riley and ask Maria all kinds of questions about childbirth and your friend finds herself in a mentoring role she didn’t ask for. She’s not opposed to being helpful, just lets her judgment slide through on the whole babies having babies thing which completely flies over the kids’ heads.

They’re good enough kids, but something tastes a little sour when Owen tries to include you in the conversation.

“What about you? You and…is his name Joel? You gonna have any kids?”

It’s a rude question. He’s earned your side eye and he knows it, but smiles through it, playing innocent.

“Already got one. One’s enough,” you laugh, sly, chewing through some boiled oats and letting him know you’re gonna let that one slide.

“Oh, yeah, right. Ellie, right?” he asks, with a flick of his eyes to a table behind you. Turning, you find Abby at a table with some other residents and when you turn back it’s with a dry expression that tells him he’s worn out his turns at beating the bush and should be out with it.

“We just were wondering if she’d show us around,” Mel explains. “She’s the only one of the children here who will talk to us.”

You snort. “Don’t let Ellie hear you call her a child. She’s short for her age, but she’s not much younger than you. She likes people, but that won’t win you any points.”

“And don’t worry about the other kids,” Maria takes over, shooting you a look. “They’ll come around. A lot of them were born here and they don’t see a ton of new people.”

“Are they not coming to the brunch today?” Owen asks.

“Who?”

“Ellie and Joel.”

Shaking your head, you swallow your latest bite. “Joel and Tommy are off getting some work done in the new sector and Ellie would bite my face off if I woke her up before high noon on a weekend. But she knows where you’re staying. I’ll send her around to you once she’s up and acting like a whole human.”

You’re about to change the subject and ask them a few questions of your own but Riley starts fussing and Mel asks to hold him and the whole baby talk starts up again.

When you look over your shoulder, Abby is gone from the table. Left her dish for someone else to clean up.

There’s a thought creeps in that maybe Ellie can teach them all some manners. And then you remember the mouth on your starling and smile.

____

“And Owen showed me some of his drawings and they’re so amazing. He’s like a fucking Picasso or something. He says he’ll give me lessons if I can get Mr. Scowlface here to take him out hunting. Says he misses hunting deer with his dad. And Abby wants to go too. I told her how you taught me to use a shotgun and she seemed really interested to learn. She might want to join the patrols some day. But I told them not this week since we’re going out to the Meadow and they all had questions about that. Abby especially–” 

Ellie has a remarkable talent for chewing and talking at the same time. She catches a piece of apple that escapes her mouth, slurping it off the back of her hand where it landed, then downs the rest of the milk and wipes her mouth with the cuff of her sweater, leaving you to negate your silent praise of her manners from earlier in the week and giving you a break in the chatter to speak.

“Well, you’re a little young to be recruiting your own Roostlings, but if Abby or any of the others want to come out sometime and see what the fuss is about, they’re welcome. I’d rather them wait until spring though, or at least until we get the whole of the flock back from the deep winter holding grounds. Chickadee’s taking up the caboose on that.”

As you push the carafe of chicory coffee toward Joel and clear the breakfast plates, Ellie snatches the last hunk of bread you left on yours, shaking her head. “Abby’s afraid of heights. Didn’t even have time to tell her about the Roost being up on stilts. What’s a caboose?”

Joel scoffs. “Last car on a train.” He takes a long, loud drag of his coffee, pouring on the annoyance to get a glare out of the girl and succeeds. “Well, if she don’t like heights, she’s not going to enjoy learning patrol duty either, not with the watchtowers and the mountain trails. And don’t go promising services you can’t guarantee. I’m not a scout leader.”

“What’s a scout leader?”

“Someone with a lot more patience than me. Get.”

Taking up her backpack, Ellie makes her way to the front vestibule to pull on her gear.

“Don’t forget your hat and scarf!” You call to her, but smile at Joel as you perch your butt against the table and tuck a little curl behind his ear. He’ll ask you to cut it soon. And you’ll put it off for as long as possible.Tickles, he'll say. I know, you'll say.

“Thanks, Gramma Betty!” she calls back and pulls the door shut behind her as Joel lays a warm hand on your outer thigh.

“What’er you getting up to today?” he asks.

You shrug. “I’m in carding mode. Got a whole bag of washed fleece needs combing. I’d ask you what you’re up to, but I assume you and Tommy are gonna be tearing down some poor old house.”

There’s a moment where he squints, thiinking. His thumb tracing the outer seam of your jeans. 

“I want you to come with me. Got something to show you.”

“Really. Well I like the sound of that. I could use a little walk in the bitter cold with a mystery at the end of it. Gonna have to go pull on a heavier sweater though. Might need to take this one off first. You wanna come watch?”

There’s a knock at the front. Tommy. The door opening.

Joel only grins fondly and pats your thigh, sending you off, before pushing the chair back from the table and separating himself from his coffee mug. “I’ll catch the later show. ‘Specially if it calls for audience participation.”

Five minutes later, bundled and booted, the three of you head out toward the new section, Joel with his scarf tucked in tight and hat pulled down low, and Tommy with a set forced upon him because you’re quickly becoming the winter clothing police around here.

It’s not a long walk. Jackson was never more than a few miles wide and this is just the first expansion of the wall. You’ve wandered over during the construction crew’s activities enough to know the way without being led, but what you’re expecting is for Joel to lead you away from the furthest street, away from the beautiful A-frame house so neatly repaired along with its pretty neighbors and up the street with Tommy to the next clutch of houses they’ve been working on. 

But instead, Joel tells his brother he’ll be along in a minute, and Tommy smiles knowingly as he continues on, leaving the two of you in the walkway up to the pretty A-frame that’s so much like the Roost’s bigger sister.

“You know what today is?” Joel asks, hands in pockets, squinting up at the peaked roof.

“Friday?”

“Probably,” he says, shifting focus to his boots. “I was thinking more holiday-wise.”

The air’s particularly crisp today, hitches in your lungs as you take each mental step and catch up with him.

February 14. Valentine’s.

As your mouth drops open, he jerks his chin at the house. “You like this one, right?”

“What…what are you….Joel?”

There’s a cringe that belies his confidence, maybe a tinge of regret. “I just figured we were gettin’ along so well, that maybe you’d… It was just an idea–”

He can’t even look you in the eye until you yank his hand awkwardly out of his pocket and wrap your gloved hand around his. He seems almost shocked to see your tears welling up–true, half from the cold–but he’s also relieved. Big breath in, big breath out. That must have been the hard part.

Words aren’t Joel’s way. This is how he tells you just how deep his feelings go. You know he’s had time to imagine with every window replaced, every floorboard leveled out, every load bearing wall reinforced,  just which family was going to get to live in this house and what kind of life they might make in it.

What kind of life you might make together here.

So you take his lead and say only what’s necessary, as steadily as you’re able. 

“Take me inside.”

His sheepish grin confirms that it was exactly what he’d hoped to hear.

The interior’s simple, but gorgeous. The dark wood gleams, and the whole back wall of the A frame is windowed. The triangle at the top replaced with a leaded stained glass in a sunrise of orange and rose that reflects the undertones in the timber inside and the pines out the window, the mosaic just high enough to catch the last rays that will come in over the mountains at the end of the day and turn the whole place into a dream. The open floorplan has the kitchen near the door, but over by the windows….

Joel gives the tour. The hand-laid stones in the fireplace. The built-in shelves for your books. This is the corner where your favorite chair can go, nearest the fire and where there’s good light for spinning. This rug was here, still good. He points out to the little shed in the back–a place for wool dying, he can hang pegs in there however you need them.

If he weren’t so occupied in explaining the wood he chose to finish the countertop, the way he followed the original dovetailing in the doorframe, the pattern he made with the reclaimed wood in the floorboards, he may have seen you admiring the most important part of the house…or, rather, the most important person in it.

There’s more. Two bedrooms, one off each side of the main part of the house, each with its own bathroom, the larger one with its own porch overlooking a little creek.

“The basement’s not quite done, but I figure I’ll just use that for my own. Felt you might not like the…vibe…”

Ah yes. The former owners. He took care of that too. 

He took care of everything.

“I love it, Joel.”

“Yeah?”

“If there was a stronger word, it would be yours, believe me.”

He only wraps his arms around you as you dive in to squeeze him.

“Good,” is all he says. Breathes in the scent of your hair. “That’s good.”

________

The ewes hate the leader ropes, but they follow, bleating now and then as you slowly guide them through the woods toward the Meadow’s north entrance. Joel’s got two behind his and Ellie’s horse, and you’ve got four behind yours, a small party, but the only ones that were ready to come on back out after the coldest weeks.

Goldie’s happy to lead them out to the rest of the flock while you and Joel go up and get situated, get warm, get ready for the week ahead. Ellie follows Goldie and Joel hangs his watch by the door. All’s quiet in the Roost.

Until Joel’s tongue clicks. “That beam is bowing,” he points up to one of the main rafter struts on the far side of the room. “Wood stove keeps this side warm and the snow melts off, but there’s no balcony on the other side. No way to rake the snow off the roof. Tommy should have known better.”

“Well it’s not like he’s had a lot of practice with big boy tree forts, I’m guessing,” you say, dumping a sack of potatoes near the cook pile and throwing the stack of fresh sheets onto the bed. “Does it need to come down?”

“Don’t think so. But come spring we’ll add on another balcony and do some reinforcement.”

As he runs his hand up the wall seam, you come up behind him, hugging him from the back with the sole purpose of distracting him, your way of letting him know he’s obsessing like an old man. It gives you the right angle to grab onto his open jacket and start pulling it off him. “Take this off and stay awhile.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Goldie takes her leave on your horse, guiding Joel and Ellie’s behind, glad to be going back to more warm water than she can heat on a stovetop, and Ellie helps to cart a few buckets of the colder variety up from the stream so you can all just stay in for the night.

Then it’s stew and cards, and Ellie kicking Joel’s ass at Scrabble, all of you bundled in wool sweaters and slippers handmade by you and Chickadee, the firelight glinting off the game tiles, highlighting the glee in the girl’s eyes, the resigned agony in Joel’s smile.

Almost a whole year now she’s been coming out here with you, and it’s wondrous how much she’s grown inside and out. You never felt lonely at the Roost, in fact, you had always very much enjoyed the solitude. Now you don’t think you could abide it. It’s only a home for a week at a time, but only when they come out here with you now.

It’s a nice night. Stars are out. Ellie’s still staring out at them as you and Joel fall asleep in the big bed.

_____

It’s the scent of woodsmoke that wakes you in the middle of the night, sitting you up straight in bed. Or so you think, except that the embers in the stove are low, so it can’t be that. 

No. It’s a voice outside.

“Burn in hell, Joel Miller!”

Is that…Ellie? What’s she doing outside? No. Not Ellie. No it’s–

“Abby?” Ellie says blearily from the bunk above you.

There’s someone in the room moving swiftly toward you from the windows, hulking, with a rifle–

Joel.

“Get up. Both of you. Get out. The place is on fire.” 

It doesn’t register.

“What? What fire? Joel? What’s happening–”

He shakes your shoulder, pulling you from the bed. “Get Ellie out. Now!”

There’s no other thought, just fumbling in the dark as Ellie jumps down beside you and dives for her jacket, shoving her feet into her boots without doing up the laces while you reach out one hand to catch hers for when it comes to you. The other gropes the near table for the walkie and thumbs the button.

“Meadowlark to patrol. Meadowlark to Goldfinch. We’re in trouble, there’s a fire and–”

The whole cabin sways. A gunshot from the balcony. Joel growling over his shoulder. “Get out! Now!”

“Joel–!”

“NOW!”

The ladder is still sliding down into place when you jump on it and ride it part of the way down, still waking up as Ellie’s boots come fast, almost kicking you in the face as she follows you down the rungs two at a time, moving through a plume of choking blackness only to come out below it to a roaring bonfire that’s eating through the Roost’s supports.

Oh god. The Roost…

is burning….

“JOELLLLLL!” you scream up as your stocking feet hit the ground hard, as you catch Ellie and pull her off the ladder and stumble backward, as something hits your head hard and causes you to let go, as separate sets of arms grab each of yours and drag you roughly backward, fast enough to keep your feet from catching up until you’re on your knees.

There’s a crackle in the air– “Patrol to Meadowlark. What’s the trouble?” 

The walkie lies somewhere in the pine needles just out of reach and you’re screaming at it for help but all that comes out of your mouth is a string of names and no’s and helps. You’re able to yank your non-dominant arm free, pitching forward, clawing for the radio, until a flash of hard silver–a meteorite, exquisitely dense and smooth, malignant, swift, direct–cracks down on your forearm with a sickening thud, shattering the bone.

The world slides out of focus through a screen of sudden pain.

At first, you assume you’ve been shot in the arm. But then a figure steps around to your line of sight. Abby. With a golf club? What? Why? Where did she get that? The commissary? Why the fuck would they stock golf clubs? What the fuck is going on? 

And you watch as Abby picks up the walkie. Tosses it into the fire.

The hands are back upon you now, forcing you back to your knees, and a third set joins them, wrapping around your forehead and chin, pulling you back against a belly and you struggle.

Where’s Ellie.

You’re able to twist your head to one side despite being held. She’s there on the ground, face down, groaning, with Owen’s knee in her back.

“Ellie? Honey?”

One pair of hands holding you twists you hard, meaning to pull you further away from her without compliance from the other hands or consent from your muscle structure and there’s a sickening pop as your shoulder leaves its socket and then your scream drowns out everything even the roar of the fire.

“She keeps it in her pocket,” Abby says. Rooting into Ellie’s pocket, Owen finds the knife and pulls it out–the one she cherishes, imbued with the legend of her mother, given to her on the same day as her name, her life, and her orphanhood.

The day Ellie told you the story, you’d taken steel wool to the knife and cleaned it. Oiled the hinge. Shined it up good and pretty.

It flips open easily in Owen’s paw. It twirls swiftly around, and points downward, his fingers closing over the hilt, thumb curling over the butt of the handle to give it more leverage when he’s ready to bring it down.

The night is horribly black and lit along the edges in orange fire.

There’s a loud crack. Owen’s thigh explodes in a splatter of blood and he falls backward off Ellie, screaming. The hands around your head let go and Mel runs to him.

Joel stalks out of the plume of black smoke, cocking the rifle, pointing only long enough at Owen to confirm he’s down and then swinging the barrel around to Abby.

A stand off. No sound or movement but the whoosh of flames and a few ground-muffled cries from Owen, a few sniffles and shushes from Mel.

“Who the fuck are you,” Joel growls out over the steel barrel, his cheek quivering in barely hinged anger.

Abby stands, solid, unyielding, straight as the blonde braid hanging down her back, club wound up tight, ready for the pitch, a face full of lines and soot and destruction.

“The last survivors of the Firefly massacre. You didn’t think to check the rest of the compound? Like the whole team was just one-offs? Like none of them had family, you sick fuck? You fucking orphaned us. Left us to fend for ourselves. Go ahead and shoot, old man. Marlene always said you weren’t so good at keeping kids alive, actually surprised you got as far as you did. So go ahead. Not like we’ve got nothing to lose. We just came to return some favors and finish the job.”

It’s only in the moments later, before the dawn, when you’re laying on your back looking up at the stars, one arm laying broken and useless in the snow beside you, the other cradling a weeping Ellie Williams as tight as you can, that you’ll be able to slow the film of your memory and play out the next thirty seconds frame by frame.

The series of snaps and cracks as the support under the Roost gave way and the whole structure tumbled out and away from the scene, pulling several pines down with it, the crashing and burning the only sound you remember now.

Ellie trying to shuffle along the ground toward you and away from the fire.

Owen pulling himself up enough to raise the knife and bring it down into the meat of Ellie’s calf.

Owen’s body flying backward as a bullet ripped through his skull.

A wrench of your neck and the warm splash of blood from above you as another shot rang out, one person holding you falling away and back, gone, but still pulling you down with their dead body.

The roar of an angry Abby and the clank of a club shaft on a rifle barrel.

Another gunshot.

The sound of metal hitting flesh.

Thirty seconds. And now you can see the stars. Orion. The Milky Way.

Somehow you’re lying yards from the little patch of burning trees with Ellie cradled in your good arm. Someone dragged you here.

There are voices and flashlights. The patrol. Bear and Tommy. Goldie and Willa and Chickadee.

And Maria. Laying on the ground beside you, exhausted from the effort of dragging two humans out of the burning thatch of trees.

“Joel. Where’s Joel.” It hurts to speak. Breath comes fast and shallow.

Then he’s there with the others, a bruise blooming purple beneath his eye, saying only what scant words he needs to move past them and get to you. To Ellie. 

His hands are gentle, but his eyes are cold.

Two still, black pools reflecting fire.

_______

Perhaps unsurprisingly, you dream of Troy, his mangled face open and bleeding, laying in the hole next to Ash, mutilated, stopped at the moment of transformation into something more sinister, your ex-husband and his sister lost to you because they were headstrong, foolish, too devoted to each other….

Ash’s eyes open, what’s left of them anyway. “Abby’s afraid of heights. Didn’t even have time to tell her about the Roost being up on stilts. What’s a caboose?”

They didn’t know the Roost was elevated. They followed us out here and didn’t have a good plan. Is that it?

They don’t answer. They get up and climb out of the hole, turn their backs on your and walk into the forest. You call after them, desperate to have them back after all this time, begging them not to leave you.

But you’re calling after them wrong. You can’t seem to say Troy. You can’t say Ash.

You’re only calling out for Joel and Ellie.

_____

The next thing you know, you’re sitting up in the snow, leaning against Goldie, the girl patting at your cheek as you’re coming around. “Come on, come on back, baby.”

The sun’s up, but not high enough to breach the mountains circling the meadow. Everything’s still lit by the slowly dying flames.

The one two punch of Willa setting the bone and popping your shoulder back in must have sent you off. Looking down, you see you must have thrown up as well. 

“Holy shit,” you groan, “I’m sorry. Oh my god, holy shit that hurts.”

“I know, I know,” says Goldie, smoothing your hair and kissing your forehead. 

“Here,” says Willa, handing you some dark root. You forget what it’s called, you just know you gotta chew. “Don’t swallow,” she reminds you. “You ride with Goldie. She’ll keep you upright once that sets in.”

“I gotta get up,” you mumble, struggling to stand and inhaling sharply at the twinge of pain the movement brings to your bandaged and immobilized arm. Goldie’s able to help get you up, but seems hesitant to let you go. “Ain’t nothing wrong with my feet, lemme go. Where’s Ellie?”

But you don’t need to ask, she’s just behind you, laying on her back in the snow, one arm flung over her eyes, breathing heavy to manage the pain, leg bandaged and tourniqueted.

Good. Next priority. “Where’s Joel?”

Goldie points to the fire. It’s starting to die down, enough to make out the bodies of three teenagers consigned to the flames. Past them, the group of the regular patrol. Joel shaking his head at them, speaking. Jacket zipped up to the top, no scarf, no hat; probably got left behind in the Roost. Rifle over one shoulder. A backpack over the other.

But not his backpack. Why would he have someone else’s backpack? Why would he have one at all…

He’s…. No.

Pushing off Goldie, you immediately find out that walking is hard. Even if the pain’s just in one arm, everything’s connected, everything hurts; it’s disorienting. Your knees are bruised and even your soft sleep pants feel like sandpaper on them. Feet cold and wet, no boots…

Joel sees you struggling to get to him and walks away from the group and the fire, meeting you partway, catching your good arm as your fist falls hard on his shoulder and yanks, fingers digging in hard to his coat, doing your best to hold on tight, to keep him here, to convince him not to go.

“Don’t you dare, Joel Miller. What do you think you’re fucking doing???”

He says nothing, only lets you collapse onto his chest, to sob. There’s not even an arm to comfort you, he gives you nothing but the bare necessity, a wall to keep you standing, and you know nothing you say will make a difference. In essence, he’s already gone.

“Please. Joel. Don’t. Please don’t go.”

“Trail’s fresh. Best to get on before it snows and covers the tracks. One of them’s the pregnant girl. One of them’s bleedin’. They can’t get that far.”

“You don’t have to. Just come home.”

“They’ll just come back. Maybe not soon, but someday.”

He’s right. You know he’s right. Stepping back, it hurts to look at him. The Joel you love has been asked to step aside, the care and fondness he’s come to show you locked up somewhere secure, somewhere where it won’t get in the way. 

I warned you, this Joel seems to say, void of emotion, jaw set, brow even and low, hand on the strap of his rifle. You took me in knowing exactly what I am.

He’s right.

“I need you here, Joel. Ellie needs you here. Don’t you dare go…unless you can come back.”

“I need you here too. ‘S why I’m going.”

Nothing. No kiss goodbye, no waiting for approval, he just turns and walks. 

Maybe this is the last of it, just one last loose thread, then he can finally leave off wandering, finally shake off the killer and just come home, just be your Joel.

Convincing yourself of this is the only choice you’ve got.

________

You find yourself out on Maria’s back porch that night. Unable to sleep from the ache of the mending bone and the swell of your assaulted shoulder, it seemed like the best remedy was to find the toughest jerky in the kitchen, to sit on the porch in the cold and chew through the pain, and to lean back in one of the porch chairs with a soothing snowpack between it and your back.

The moonlight plays illusions like the canteen filmstrips–a summer image of Tommy and Joel teaching Ellie the mechanics of tackle football. The twinkle of the fireflies lending veritas to the picture…which in reality is only the twinkle of a dusting of new snow.

Not enough snow to make tracking impossible, but enough to make it difficult.

The back door opens and a blanket lands over your lap.

“Was gonna ask you if you wanted company, but then I decided, it’s my house and you don’t get a choice.”

Maria plops her own blanket in a nearby chair before disappearing and returning with two steaming mugs of tea as offering for the table between you. She takes her time covering you just so before wrapping herself up and joining you on the porch. “Suppose I should have asked if you want that cold pack changed before I get too comfortable,” she says, not really offering, but leaving the suggestion there between you if you need it.

It’s not necessary to talk for a while. She knows exactly what you’re thinking. Sees what you see.

“Did I wake you?”

“No. Riley did,” she lies. You’d heard her shift when you got up from the bed–her bed, well, hers and Tommy’s. But hers and yours for now.

“Thanks for taking care of us.”

“You say that like you’re not my family.”

“Well then, thanks for staying behind as if you are.” 

It’s hard to see her out of the corner of your eye, backed by dark shadows. But the moon plays little crescents on her face, the curve of her nose, her cheek, her chin. Her voice comes out velvet from the dark.

“I know you’re pissed at Joel for going, but he’s doing the right thing.”

Now you make the effort to turn, rotating more from the waist than the neck to save the injury from twinging, but it does anyway, mirroring your spike in irritation. “Really? You think so? Is that why you sent Tommy with him? After all that time you spent bemoaning the things Joel made Tommy do all those years ago–”

“This is different. This is about the greater good.”

“You know that’s what the villain always says, right?”

She presses her lips together, hating that you’re right. “Okay, so maybe not the greatest good for the morality of the remainder of the human race, but. For the good of Jackson.”

“Two grown men hunting down two teenage girls is the greater good.”

“They won’t be teens forever. They’ve both got reasons to come back for their revenge. And now they know where Jackson is. They get taken in by the wrong people, and then the wrong people will know where Jackson is too and when they come back they won’t be alone. They’ll know exactly how many and what kind of folk to bring.” She holds your gaze for a few seconds, steady and wise but also warning, her warmth only thinly veiling the matronly protectress behind it, like a Durga on her throne. “You know why we have patrols. You know what happens to people that get too close. Two more drops in the bucket is all.”

“Three. One of those little girls is pregnant.”

She has no answer to this. Rather, your dig brings no new argument to the table. It’s just words, just a fact on the wind. It doesn’t sway the needle one way or the other.

It’s exactly what you’d been thinking about, staring up at her bedroom ceiling. Then out here on the porch. It’s like she knew you needed to hear the justification out loud.

“They would have killed him, lady. And Ellie. And you. I’m surprised you don’t want them hunted down like dogs.”

You turn your attention to the back yard, the smallest hump of leaves under the big tree there not quite scattered to the wind, sparkling with snow cover. You can almost still hear Ellie’s high laughter as it sounded the day she experienced her first leaf pile.

“Oh, I want them run down,” you say. “I’m all for that, let ‘em eat lead. I just didn’t want…” It’s not really necessary to continue. Maria knows exactly what you want. She always does. That’s why she sent Tommy with him. To keep him tethered to humanity.

To the way Joel watched Ellie jump and disappear into a poof of leaves. The sun in his smile. At peace. At home. Free from the old violence. Reborn.

I just didn’t want Joel to be the one to do it.

______

Maria’s dinner table feels empty. Funny, you think, it was always the two of you. For a while there was four, what with Troy and Ash, but most of the time just the two. Then Tommy. Then Joel and Ellie. Now Riley…well, that is, if he’s still up during family dinner.

You’ve slept through most of the light of day and was hoping to talk to Ellie at dinner, but Maria’s been taking all her meals to the guest room for her. Mostly so she doesn’t have to walk down the stairs on her healing leg, but also because Ellie’s not been talking since that night.

And you can guess why. It has less to do with the injury and assault or the fire, and more about the truths she learned during them. 

Not much to do. The arm has to stay stable, strapped to your body. At least they fucked up the non-dominant one so you can still hold a fork, still brush your teeth. But knitting? Spinning? Helping Maria clear the dishes? Fat chance.

Not much to do but chew root, smoke wild weed, and sleep it off.

Maria reappears with a plate needs washing. “There’s a break in the clouds. I got three whole words out of her. This might be your chance.”

“Oh. Joy.” It’s getting to be less of an effort to stand now that you’ve got rest and food in you. The stairs are daunting only because of the conversation that waits at the top.

A knock on her door only grants you silence.

“I’m coming in, Starling girl. Best not be naked.”

No answer. You take that as the opposite of opposition. Tolerance.

She’s sitting on the bed, propped up by pillows behind her back and under her knee, her bandages freshly changed, no more blood pooling or free bleeding. She plays with the cuffs of her sweater, tugging at a loop in the knit, a book abandoned by her side as if she’d put it down when you knocked. A good sign. She doesn’t want to hide.

You crawl in beside her, awkwardly, one-handedly, a big showy sigh of relief when you finally land. “You know, if I was your mom, I’d probably start off with ‘what’cha reading there, kiddo?’ just to get you to say something, but I’m not your mom and I’m not here to make you talk if you don’t wanna–”

“Well I don’t.”

“Good. I didn’t come up here to hear you yap anyway.” You detect the tiniest twitch of her cheek, not quite a smile, perhaps a sneer…to scare away a smile. “Don’t talk, just listen.”

“I don’t wanna do that either.”

“Tough titties. I’m cashing in exchange for all the time I had to listen to you go on about Sally Fucking Ride.”

Now she does smile. Barely. Gives you the teenager face you wanna slap sometimes. “Tough titties? Really?”

“They didn’t have tough titties in the orphanage? Seems off-brand.” The smile fades. “Tell me how you’re healing. I’m not asking, I’m demanding.”

A big breath in. But the air doesn’t come rushing back with a dramatic sigh, just melts out of her with a single tear she doesn’t move to brush away.

So you do. “That bad, huh.”

“It fucking sucks. It fucking sucks so bad.”

“Heh, tell me about it. I miss the good old days of ibuprofen. Shit. I miss morphine. You’re young though, you’ll be up and running in a week or two. Me? I’m gonna be aching for–”

“He fucking lied through his teeth.”

Ah. There it is.

Now the colony of tears follows the first scout, pouring out over the plains of her cheeks until she covers her face with those cuffs she’s been picking at, relieved at being able to let it all out in front of someone who might understand, but probably scared as hell to let herself be this messed up in front of someone who might not. A gamble.

And a win. You’ve still got one good arm and you put it to good use, pulling her into your side. “Yeah, you’re right. He totally did. He’s a fucking asshole. Why the hell would he do that.”

“It wasn't time that did it,” she hiccups from under her woolen cuffs.

“I don’t know what that means, Starling” you say, unable to stop yourself from kissing the crown of her head.

She wipes her nose and comes up for air. “I mean I know why. But he fucking lied about everything. Straight to my face.”

“Well, you’ve got every right to demand an explanation and an apology when he comes back. Straight to his face.”

“If he comes back.”

You let that sit a moment between you. It’s her way of saying that she knows you’re mad at him too, that she heard the conversation you had with him when he left. It’s her way of poking at your own fears and getting you on her side.

“Those girls aren’t armed and the Miller boys have a lot more experience with being hunters than those kids do being prey. He’ll be back.”

“I hate him.”

“I know. But also. You don’t.”

“I had a… a purpose. A fucking purpose.”

“Well….I know you did, but…probably not so much as you think.” She looks up at you but you can’t meet her eye, she’s right to mourn, and you can’t deny her that. “Remember what I told you about my sister and her treatments?”

“The research hospital.”

“Yeah. Cancer’s been killing people on this earth far longer than cordyceps and they’d had millions of patients to test on. Still couldn’t crack it. How many people are immune like you? Because if it ain’t millions, you just become one part sample in a petri dish and another part dead body that maybe give some vague clues and then you’re all parts in the bin, end of story. I mean, I’ll be honest. I don’t blame him. You’re quite a keeper.”

Now her sigh is dramatic. “And then he fucking lied about it.”

“So you would feel good about it. Accomplished in your goal. Also so you wouldn’t hate him for caring about you more than you do.”

“Why didn’t he just say–?”

“Do you know that man to be good with words?”

This quiets her. Both of you. For a few minutes. She goes back to picking at her sleeves.

The sun’s set completely now and her little bedside lamp can’t even drown out the stars so bright on the other side of the window. Clear night. Cold out there.

After a moment you take your arm back, jostle her with your shoulder. “Hey. I’m going out to the Meadow tomorrow, check in with Willa, look over the damage. If I bring you back a piece of the Roost, you wanna do some carving or whittling or something? We’ll build a platform like the old one and it’s probably just gonna be a tent up there for a while like it used to be, but hopefully this spring or summer we’ll get a structure up there and we’ll need a cornerstone or a plaque or something signifying its importance. Since you’re on your ass all day with nothing better to do, and you’re the star recruit, I’d love for you to do it.”

Her lips twist, half smiling at the request, but then in regret. “I lost my knife.”

“The one from your mom?” She nods. “Well if you’ll do some carding for me while I’m out there, I promise to look for it, ask around, maybe one of the patrol picked it up, okay?”

“Okay. Oh. By the way…How are you healing?”

“I’ve been worse. But mostly I’ve been better. Thanks for asking. ‘S kind of you. But don’t you worry about me.”

“Okay. Um…I’m…sorry about telling them about the meadow and all.”

“Why? You’re a Roostling. It’s your story to tell.” Sliding off the bed you head for the door. “Oh hey. I meant to ask–” you nod at the book by her side. “What’cha reading?”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh…just porn.”

“Cool. G’night.”

“‘Night. Hey Meadowlark?”

You poke your head back in before the door closes completely. “Hm?”

“Thanks. For all that. But mostly for not calling me kiddo.”

You smile. Nod. Give her a warm wink. “Sure. I gotchu, kiddo.”

It’s worth the eyeroll you catch as you close the door.

________

The most sickening part of coming in through the north passage isn’t seeing the burn scar on the pine grove in the middle of the Meadow, isn’t missing the outline of the Roost through the trees, but rather the feeling that your home has been breached, that for a moment it wasn’t safe and now you’ll always wonder if it will be.

Riding across the north plain, you close your eyes and breathe, let the horse plod on without your guidance, he knows the way. Once spring comes and the valley fills with flowers and the music of the lambs calling for their ewes takes over from this cold silence that comfort will be renewed. 

But for now, there is no comfort on the Meadow in winter, not without a pretty little fireplace and a warm spot to watch the snow build up on the mountains.

You know what’s coming, but it turns your heart inside out all the same when you open your eyes.

Where once there was a cabin in the treetops is now a void leading downward to a pile of blackened rubble and debris. Off to the side under some lower trees is the old canvas tent with the vent hole and a friendly little trail of smoke rising from it. Willa always knew her way around a fire and didn’t mind keeping a low one going on the inside. You never were that confident, even with a fire-treated tarp.

She’s been at work out here, pulling useful things out of the rubble. The woodstove. The pulley jacks. A few timbers that are mostly unburned. 

But there’s a pile of other things too, useless items that shouldn’t be mixed back in with the earth: a burned walkie. Twisted silverware and blackened plates. The iron tools from the rafters. Shattered tile. Your charred and mangled boots.

All that’s left in the major wreckage is wood. And glass. And bones.

Three blackened skulls, three sets of eye sockets and three jaws gaping up at the sky as if they were caught in the moment of realizing their plans were going terribly awry. 

Stupid fucking kids. ….Just kids.

If someone asked you how you knew which one was Owen’s, you wouldn’t be able to say. You just know. The memory of him sinking that knife into Ellie’s leg…of hurting her…intent to kill… His skull breaks like a cracker when you put your weight on it.

Willa doesn’t say anything when she comes up along side to stare down at the bones with you. It's not the first time you've stood with her at the edge of a burned down home.

"I hate that it’s gonna take me a while to sift though all this,” you say.

“We’ve decided to skip your turn for a while. At least until there’s a new platform.”

You nod, resigned. You don’t love it, but it’s best. Trauma lingers longest of all hurt. 

“How’s the flock?”

“They’re over it.”

“Figures. Fluffy shits. Any chance you found a pocket knife out here?” You ask her.

She nods, reaches into a jacket pocket and there it is, like it’s been waiting to come back to its keeper, made itself shiny and easily found. It’s passed between you like a sacred object, holy, a relic saved and cared for, a thing infused with deep love and meaning. There’s an instant relief as your fingers curl around it, your shoulders relaxing and releasing a little of the pain.

“Thank you.”

“There was this too.” From the same pocket Willa pulls a disk of silver and glass, turning it over and placing it in your hand with the knife.

The watchband is burned away. But it’s otherwise unharmed.

Willa may be a stoic, but she knows enough to recognize a release through tears and to hold you while you cry.

Later that afternoon when you knock on Ellie’s door, you’ll hand her the knife and a piece of the old Roost to carve to consecrate the new one. And then you’ll give her the watch and ask her to be your hands, to help you with one more thing.

________

Two days later, you’re standing in Joel’s living room, never having been here when it’s so quiet, dark, and cold. With you and Ellie staying with Maria, there’s been nobody here to light a fire, to make the place live. You wouldn’t be here if Maria hadn’t made a side comment about maybe you and Ellie’d been in the same clothes for a day too many. Not that you thought you’d be with her that long.

She was right. It was nice to change into something clean–a soft fleece and some sleep pants. While the sword of Damocles kept things in check at Maria’s house, it did feel just this side of an extended girl’s night sleepover, might as well dress for it. Ellie had asked for something soft and comfy so you decided to go for it, an assortment of sweats and sweaters in the duffel at your feet.

What you’re eyeing at the moment is an empty hook on the wall by the fireplace.

You put your hand in your jacket pocket and pull out the watch.

Ellie did a beautiful job with it, took directions like a champ. Sitting together on her bed, listening to Joan Jett and Pat Benetar, you’d instructed her how to design the plaid stripes into the strap, how to knot and plait in patterns.

“Macrame. MACrame. Mac. Ra. Mayyyyyy,” Ellie’d chanted. “It’s a fun word to say. What’s it mean?”

“Fringe. Knotting. It’s just the name of the technique. I dunno. Probably something prettier in French.”

The strap clasps had been lost in the fire, so you’d had Ellie work him a new strap out of dyed and tightly-spun wool, something a little longer so he could tie it on. Most likely he’d come back here first, so you want to put it somewhere he’d see it, that way he could have it again without a lot of fuss but knowing at the same time you were thinking of him. So you slip the end loop over the hook, gently let it slip through your fingers and rest against the wall.

If he comes back…

The front door opens. Boots on the wood. The thump of a backpack.

By the time you’ve turned, he’s coming in through the front hall.

When he sees you standing here, he stops.

You never imagined this moment. You should have. It might have prepared you for the yellowing bruise on his face, the majority of his left pant leg browned with dried blood, his knuckles raw and just beginning to heal over.

You struggle with finding the right question. Find ‘em? They dead? Finish the job? No survivors?

I’d ask you what the hell you did, but I know and I don’t wanna hear you say it.

Instead all you can muster is a nod at the blood on his jeans.

His eyes slide to the staircase, already looking to move on, and he only answers with a short and shallow nod of his own before doing just that.

You find yourself sitting on the couch, staring at your hands, the duffel, the watch, back at your hands. Listening as he moves around upstairs, dropping boots, his belt buckle clapping to the floor. The shower running for a long, long time.

Sun’s going down. Getting colder.

The squeaks from the staircase are slow, softer than usual. He’s taking his time coming down. Doesn’t want to force himself back into a space so safe and quiet after pushing through one so big and mean.

He barely shifts the couch as he sits on the far side. Clean shirt. Clean jeans. A pair of socks you knit him.

“Where’s Ellie?” He sounds like he hasn’t spoken to anyone in days. You’d wager he hasn’t.

“With Maria. We’ve been staying there. I was just getting us some clothes. Didn’t think you’d be gone this long.”

“Neither did I. They had a head start. Younger. Faster. But you’re safe now. You’re both safe now.” He’s quiet long enough for the house to give a settling creak as the wind picks up outside. “How’s that arm?”

“Joel, you can’t keep us safe from the world. The world is what it is.”

“The fuck I can’t,” he whispers back, defiant, stubborn, with enough venom that he seems to scare himself and he breathes in deep, keeps it, holding back.

All you want is your Joel back. Even in all this mess. All you want is for him to lay down his fear and love you the right way. 

So instead of arguing, you get up and stand before him, give him the time it takes to understand you’re going to straddle his lap whether he helps you or not. He reaches for you on your way down, guides and supports you, allows you to rake through his wet curls before leaning in to take possession of his lips, to will him–by kissing through to his very soul–to come back to you.

He can’t help but respond, his whole body coming to life, and in the cold, twilit living room, you become a tangle of silhouettes as his hand pushes up under your sweater–somehow still keeping an aura of care around your ruined and wrapped arm–to squeeze almost painfully at your curves, rough and wanting, panting between devouring kisses as he paws beyond the waistband of your sleep pants, sucking at your neck when you throw your head back as he reaches what he was searching for….what you hoped he’d find…

There’s a tousle of repositioning and a clatter of belt and zipper. You’re both raw and rough and needy, and you both take advantage of the emptiness of the house to fill it with the sounds of desperation, of effort, the song of casting off of all inhibition, a duet of total and grateful release. 

But through it all, it’s the way he holds onto you that tells you how much he wanted to get back to you, how close he intends to hold you and never let you go, a desperation that tells you exactly where his faults lay…

…that it was necessary–and always will be–to eliminate any chance of someone taking you from his world by force.

It’s not so much possession as a fierce and burning need to be possessed. A need to belong, concentrated down to its basest form.

“I’m sorry,” he says as he softly kisses your temple, spooning you in the afterglow that burns bright in the darkening room.

“For what? You didn’t hurt me.”

“Rushed it a little. Tend to act before thinkin’ sometimes.”

You’re not completely sure what he means by that. At first you think he’s talking about the rough sex, but you get his meaning. Stalking off after Abby and Mel so impulsively. For being impulsive in general.

For acting out of trauma.

Or love.

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to for that, Joel.”

You can tell the moment he understands when his forehead gently meets your shoulder. “Shit.”

It’s probably the best time to break it to him, while he’s still a little softheaded and euphoric. “She’s ready to listen. But I won’t promise it’ll be easy. It might just be you and me here for a while.”

Once his breathing evens out, he shifts, still holding onto you, but just coming back down, settling back in.

“What’s that?” He mutters, just on this side of falling asleep, lazily pointing at the watch on the hook by the fireplace.

“Your Valentine’s Day present. From both of us. Sorry it’s late.”

________

Taking some shifts off from the Meadow rotation affords you time to start slowly moving things over to the new A-frame, Maria helping you to load up a skid now and then and unload it, walking beside you as you lead the horse that tows it.

After a week or two, Ellie’s up and walking–well, limping, but healing–and starting to talk to Joel at dinner again. She’s on the verge of actually gracing his bad jokes with a smile or even a laugh, but she’s making him work hard for it. Good for her.

You haven’t asked either of them how the talk went. Don’t know if you ever will. That’s between them, the less you interfere, the better.

But you know that things are on the mend when you find Ellie playing Joel’s guitar–learning some Johnny Cash song you know he loves.

And you have a feeling that spring is on the way when you drop off another load at the new house and find a new frame on the wall–a handmade, custom carpentry display shadowbox.

With a watch hanging inside.

_______

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NEXT: SPRING AGAIN (coming soon)

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