#before I start chewing on this image of him in my head and shaking my head back and forth like a dog does to a sandal

[amarantoestrella]

Feeling like a gross creep for this but work crush got a new haircut and his jawline looks so good I had to very vividly imagining sitting on/riding him and how his jaw looks so nice with his head thrown back and how he would let out a breathy “oh fuck” while he’s looking down at where we connect 🥺

[pedrospatch]

to hell and back l two

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l main masterlist l next chapter

summary: After escaping a group of brutal slavers, you are left with permanent physical and emotional scars. Unwilling to put your trust in another human being ever again, you spend a year fighting for survival alone in the post outbreak world. But when you choose to save the life of a man named Joel Miller, the wall that you’ve built to protect yourself slowly begins to crumble.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. canon violence, canon language, reader has a flashback, mentions of slavers, implied threat of assault, guns, reader gets groped, reader has a panic attack, a lot of angst, trauma. soft Joel, protective Joel, and i even threw in some domestic Joel because just imagine that old man making you a nice lil late night snack. 🥹 i think i got most of the major warnings out of the way, i’m sorry if i missed anything!

Word Count: 8.7k

Smoke was coming off my jacket

and you didn’t seem to mind

I left a long trail of ashes and

you said, I like your style

California l Spring, 2023

Your hand trembled slightly as you gripped your pistol and aimed it at his chest.

You’d never pointed your gun at another human being before. At least not one that was still alive.

“Hey now, it’s alright. You can trust us.”

Anxiously, you glimpsed from the man who had just spoken to the woman who stood beside him.

Surely the two had to be related. Both possessed the same fiery red hair, a face full of freckles, and vivid green eyes. They stood before you with their weapons lowered in an attempt to show you that they weren’t a threat to your safety. 

The man, who had to be in his mid to late thirties, moved to step forward, but halted in his tracks when he caught sight of the way your finger had twitched over the trigger. “My name is Mark,” he said, carefully gesturing to himself with his free hand. In his opposite hand, he clutched his rifle, an assault style weapon that made your gun look like a fucking toy in comparison. Still, it was you who had the upper hand, at least for now. “This here is my sister. Her name is Jessa.” He paused and when you said nothing, he asked, “Can you tell us your name?”

Chewing your bottom lip, you shook your head at him in response. 

You didn’t trust them.

Not quite yet.

Jessa, who was younger and looked to be closer to your own age, offered you a kind smile. “That’s alright. You don’t have to tell us your name until you feel comfortable.” She took a look around at the small, makeshift camp that you had made for yourself. “Are you all by yourself, sweets?”

You quickly wracked your brain. 

“No,” You fibbed. “I’m with my father. He should be back any minute now. He’s armed and he does not take all too kindly to strangers, so you’d best be on your way before he sees you.” You added in a steadier tone, “He won’t even think twice. He’ll just kill you on the spot, so you better leave right now. Or else.”

Amused, Mark let out a soft chuckle. “Oh, come on now, dollface. You don’t have to lie to us,” he stated, shaking his head. “Let’s try this again and let’s be honest this time, alright? How long have you been alone?”

Your throat bobbed as you swallowed harshly. 

Fuck.

He had seen right through the bullshit threat. 

“For about three or four days now,” You admitted, your shoulders sagging in defeat. “I was with my father and my sister. The three of us were on our way up north. We were trying to get to Seattle to the quarantine zone, but then they were—”

You suddenly stopped.

It felt like someone had driven their fist right into your gut, knocking all the wind out of your lungs and hindering your ability to speak.

You couldn’t even say it out loud.

Gruesome images of them being torn apart limb from limb flashed through your mind. Bile slowly started climbing its way up your throat and your stomach churned violently.

You were going to be sick.

“Are they both dead?” Mark questioned you.

You nodded, whispering shakily, “Yes.”

Jessa frowned. “I’m so sorry for your loss, honey. If it’s any consolation, me and Mark know exactly how it feels. We lost our entire family about three years ago. It’s the hardest thing we’ve ever been through.” Swinging back her own rifle behind her, she approached you and reached out, placing her hand over yours—the one that was still clutching your weapon. She didn’t even so much as flinch at the way the barrel was now pointed at her, how it was just an inch or two away from her chest. It didn’t seem to faze her that all it would take was you bringing your index finger down a bit harder on the trigger and she would be dead. “We know you must be fucking terrified, but it’s okay. You can trust us. We’re good, honest people and we just want to help you. But we can’t do that if you try and kill us, now can we?”

Slowly, Jessa guided you to lower your gun. She then looked over her shoulder, exchanging a look with her brother, as if asking him to back her up.

“Yeah. She’s right. We just want to help you,” he repeated after her. “We aren’t going to hurt you. If we wanted to, we probably would have by now, don’t you think so?”

You let out a tiny breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding and loosened your iron grip on your pistol.

He did make a fair point.

Now that your gun was pointed at the ground, he could have easily killed you. And yet, he’d made no move to blow your fucking head off. 

Maybe they really were good people.

But what if they weren’t?

What if it was just a trap?

You didn’t know what to fucking think.

All you knew was that you were so helplessly lost now that your family was gone.

You were afraid.

Alone.

Jessa turned back to you. “Listen, we’re part of a settlement,” she informed you. “It’s not all too far from here, maybe six or seven miles tops. We’ve got a really big group of people and we’re always looking to bring in anyone in need. Come with us, sweets. There’s plenty of food, water, and we can you into some fresh, clean clothes too. How does that sound?” 

You momentarily hesitated, still unsure whether or not you could trust the two strangers. 

How did it sound?

It sounded too fucking good to be true.

“It’s a safe place,” Mark assured you from behind her. He could see the reluctance written all over your face. 

“It’s as safe as safe can be,” Jessa promised. She touched your arm and flashed you another smile, one that was more kind than the first—one that was so comforting it made you feel like you could actually trust her. “So? What do you say? Will you come back with us? Will you let us help you?”

You nervously bit the inside of your cheek.

Scared, starving, and exhausted, their offer for a safe haven was much too tempting to decline.

Besides, how long could you possibly survive out here all on your own?

“Alright,” You finally agreed after a moment. “I’ll come with you.”

“There’s just one condition,” Mark stated, falling into step beside his sister in front of you. “We’re going to need you to hand over your weapon.”

“What?” You stared at him. “Why?”

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s protocol,” he said, waving a hand dismissively at you. “It’s purely for safety reasons. Anyone who comes into our group must surrender their weapons. We want to be sure that we’re bringing in someone who isn’t going to be a threat to our people. We have children, so we just want to be cautious, you know?”

“I guess that does makes sense,” You admitted. 

“You’ll get it back,” Jessa reassured you. “Once you speak to the council and they determine you aren’t a threat, you’ll get your gun back. Okay?”

Left with very little choice, you agreed. “Okay.”

Mark held out his hand for the weapon.

Slowly, you placed your pistol in his open palm.

“Perfect.” Jessa chirped. “Now grab your things and let’s get going. If we hurry up, we can make it back before nightfall.”

Nodding, you turned around to grab your pack. 

The second you turned your back, the barrel of the same gun you’d just handed to Mark poked you between your shoulder blades and you froze, your blood running cold in your veins.

“Hands up, bitch,” Jessa commanded. Her warm and friendly tone had vanished. “And turn around towards me slowly. Now.”

Terrified, you did as you were told and you lifted both of your hands, turning around on the heel of your sneaker to face her.

Her expression, much like her tone, was frigid.

Hostile.

“You’re going to do exactly as I say when I say it.” She held up her rifle, aiming it at you. “And if you don’t, you fucking die. Do you understand?”

“Please,” You choked out. “Don’t—”

“Do you fucking understand?” Jessa repeated in a hiss, her finger hovering over the trigger. When she was met with a small, meek nod, she turned to look at her brother. “Cuff her.”

Mark smirked. He tucked your gun away into the waistband of his jeans and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a pair of rusted handcuffs. He walked around and stood behind you, instructing, “Hands behind your back.” Once he had both of your wrists in one hand, he used the other to slip on the cuffs, tightening them so hard that the old oxidized steel dug painfully into your skin. “She’s a pretty one,” he murmured. As soon as he made certain the cuffs were securely fastened, he put a hand on your ass, groping it roughly. “Oh, you’re going to be popular with the guys, dollface. Kind of makes me want to break you in, right here and right now—give me a few minutes with her, Jess.”

Completely paralyzed with fear, all you could do was stand there in silence as his hands continued to roam your lower body, feeling you up through your jeans. He squeezed at your inner thigh, then brushed up over your zipper.

“Mark! That’s not what she’s for, you idiot,” Jessa reminded him, rolling her eyes. “Now quit fucking around and let’s start heading back to camp.”

She whirled around and started leading the way.

Mark grinned and pressed his mouth to your ear as he whispered in cruel reassurance, “Don’t you worry, now. I’ll get my chance with you—we’re all going to our chance with you.”

He grabbed you by your upper arm and roughly shoved you forward, leading you to what would inevitably be hell on earth.

Joel leans against the tree with his arms crossed over his chest. His dark eyes are fixed intently on you, carefully observing you from where he stands, more so out of concern rather than curiosity. Something isn’t right.

It’s late in the afternoon and the two of you had been about halfway into the six hour trek down south to Jackson when Joel offered to stop for a while, just long enough for the both of you to rest and take a quick breather, find a second wind before finishing the journey—but as he continues watching you, Joel starts to realize that perhaps stopping had done you much more harm than it’s done you good. 

Just a few feet away from where he’s standing and keeping a watchful eye on you, you sit perched on top of a small, flat boulder hugging your knees up to your chest with both hands wrapped tightly around the grip of your pistol. 

You’re in a trance like state, staring straight off into the distance at nothing in particular. Your face is completely blank. Emotionless. It appears that while all the lights are on, nobody is fucking home. 

Squinting against the sunlight, Joel takes a closer look at you. He sees it so clearly, the faraway look in your eyes. 

You are gone. You’ve checked out and completely disconnected from reality. 

He would go as far as saying you’ve disconnected from this fucking planet.

You’re sinking, slowly drowning in some kind of thought or perhaps it was a memory—whatever it is that’s currently preoccupying your mind, it sure as hell isn’t anything good. He has no fucking clue how he’d managed to clock it so easily, so quickly, but Joel had sensed something was wrong the instant you’d drifted off. 

The deeper you go and the further you lose yourself, the harder your hands clutch at your grin, the thin delicate skin on your knuckles stretching taught over the bones. It’s not until Joel notices the way your chest begins to rise and fall rapidly as your breaths quicken, the way you start struggling for air, that he knows it’s time for him to intervene before you worsen and suffocate under the weight of whatever it is that’s sitting so heavily on you. 

Pushing himself away from the tree, Joel begins to approach you, taking extra care so as not to spook you into turning your pistol on him and pulling the trigger in a moment of panic. He lifts both of his hands and holds them out in front of him. Cautiously, Joel makes his way over towards where you’re sitting on the boulder, his footsteps slow and careful. 

“Hey,” he calls out to you, keeping his tone firm, but somehow still gentle as he tries to garner your attention. When you don’t even acknowledge him or his presence, he tries again, speaking a little bit louder. “Hey. S’okay. S’alright. Everythin’ is alright—come on back now.” Joel draws closer and closer to you, taking tiny step after tiny step on the steel toes of his worn, black leather boots. “S’alright, darlin’. I need you to come back to me now, okay? You ain’t where you think you are. You’re alright—”

The sound of a twig snapping underneath his boot startles you. Jumping to your feet, you aim your gun at him with shaking hands and wild, terrified eyes. 

Even as your finger trembles over the trigger, Joel remains calm. “Hey, c’mon. Take it easy. S’okay. You’re alright. Look, it’s me. It’s just me and I ain’t gonna do anythin’ to hurt you,” he swears. He shows you his empty hands, hoping that you would be able to snap out of it and realize that he isn’t a threat. That you aren’t in any kind of danger. But as you hold your weapon, chest heaving as you panic, Joel knows it doesn’t matter that his hands are empty. It doesn’t make a fucking difference. He knows it isn’t him who is standing in front of you.

It’s someone else. Whoever you were seeing standing there in his place, it’s someone who had done god knows what to you. Joel has a gut wrenching hunch it had something to do with the marks he’d seen around your wrists back at the cabin. The mere thought of it is enough to send an unpleasant chill up and down the length of his spine. 

Joel speaks again. “I ain’t gonna hurt you.” He feels the sudden urge to reach out for you, but knowing it would be unwelcome, he resists it. All he can do is try and use his words to bring you back to the present. Back to him. “Breathe. You’re safe. I need you to breathe, can you do that for me? Do you think you can breathe for me, darlin’?”

Somehow, his voice penetrates its way in through the thickness of the white fog that you’d been lost in. You had been stumbling around helplessly in it, desperately searching for a way through. Joel’s heavy, deep Southern drawl permeates the memory, causing the haunting images from that fateful day when your life had taken a sharp turn for the worst to dissolve into nothing. 

“Just breathe. Nice and slow. Inhale through your nose, then out through your mouth. Easy does it.” Joel controls his own breathing, slowing it down to demonstrate. He inhales deeply through his nose and exhales slowly through his mouth. 

You stare at him with wide eyes as you fight to get the rise and fall of your chest to match his. How the hell do you know what to do? 

Joel can practically hear your question ringing in your mind amidst the chaos. “My kid, she gets these awful nightmares sometimes. Wakes up in a panic thinkin’ she’s somewhere else, somewhere she ain’t safe. So my brother’s wife, Maria, well she was kind enough to show me what to do whenever it happens. She taught me a couple different breathin’ techniques that help soothe Ellie and calm her down. Told me it helps if I do them with her,” he explains to you. He can tell that you’re now coming out of the worst of it and that you’re finally starting to get some oxygen back into your lungs. He lowers his hands. Your pistol is still aimed at him, but Joel trusted you enough to know that you wouldn’t pull the trigger and blow his fucking head off. “C’mon, breathe. There we go. That’s it. Easy does it, now. In through your nose and out through your mouth, that’s it. That’s a good girl.” 

It takes you a good minute or two, but your breaths fall into sync with his own and before you know it, the two of you are breathing together in harmony. 

Oh. You’re not in California.

The man standing before you doesn’t have red hair and green eyes. He doesn’t have that twisted smirk on his face. He isn’t putting his hands on you. He’s not hurting you. He’s helping you. 

Swallowing dryly, you lower your weapon. Your gaze meets Joel’s and somehow you find the courage to look him in his eyes for the very first time. Even though you had turned your gun on him, he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it all. He isn’t upset or angry. The look of worry on his face has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you could have easily killed him just now. It’s as if he’d known for certain that you wouldn’t pull the trigger.

“There we go,” Joel says after another minute passes by. “You see? You’re alright. You’re safe.”

There’s comfort in his words, in his deep brown eyes.

Fuck, there’s comfort in him. 

Still. Your mind refuses to allow you to accept it.

At least, not completely. 

Averting your gaze, you shuffle your weight from one foot to the other and then back again. 

Joel clears his throat lightly. “It’s gettin’ real late,” he murmurs. “We should get a move on. We’ve still got a bit of a way to go and we really don’t wanna get ourselves caught out in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere after dark for too long, y’know?”

You give him a small nod and start to gather up your belongings. You pick up your canteen, which is now almost completely empty after you’d shared your water with him during the first leg of the hike, and shove it into one of the side pockets of your back.

“S’kinda cold,” Joel states. “And it’ll only get colder as nightfall approaches. You, uh—you warm enough in that little denim jacket?”

You shrugged a shoulder at him, not thinking anything much of the question. I’m fine. 

However, as if on cue, a chilly breeze blows its way through Wyoming’s plains, causing you to shiver.

Joel quickly shrugs out of his brown jacket. “You mind if I—?”

You toss him a confused glance. 

Do I mind if you what? 

Joel steps towards you and lifts his arms as if he’s going to put them around you. Flinching, every muscle in your entire body goes rigid and he halts. “S’alright. I’m just gonna give you my jacket, that’s all,” he assures you, his arms frozen midair. He patiently waits for a small nod of approval. Once he has it, he drapes his jacket over your shoulders and then takes several steps back, giving you your space. “Should keep you from freezin’ your ass off out here.”

As he turns around and walks over to where he had set his rifle down, you stand there somewhat stupefied over what he’d just done. Something so simple, and yet you can’t seem to wrap your fucking brain around it. 

Willing yourself to move, you carefully slide both of your arms into the sleeves of his jacket, wrapping it around your body. The scent of him, a mixture of earthy sandalwood and whatever soap he uses to wash his clothes, fills your senses and a strange, but pleasant warmth radiates throughout your chest, gradually spreading itself to the rest of your body from head to toe. 

Ignoring the feeling, you pick up your backpack along with your bow and quiver of arrows, slinging everything over your shoulders. 

Joel slings the strap of his rifle over his shoulder and turns back to you. “Ready to get goin’?”

Pistol in hand, you gesture for him to go ahead and walk in front of you, much like he’d done for the first half of the trip.

He lets out a small sigh. “Alright, I get it. Still don’t fully trust me. Well, we’ll keep workin’ on that, then.”

A couple of hours had gone by. The slanting rays of the setting sun give a warm orange tinge to the skies as late evening begins settling itself in. 

“Y’wanna know somethin’?” Joel asks, breaking the silence between you.

You look up at the back of his head, your eyes fixing themselves on his mop of thick, unkempt salt and pepper waves. Occasionally, as you’d been slowly trudging along behind Joel, you stole glimpses of the way his hair curled at the nape of his neck and brushed against the collar of his henley.

Despite the lack of a response, Joel continues to talk. “Earlier at the cabin, just when I was startin’ to come back around, I heard a woman singin’ to me. At least, it sure seemed like she was singin’ to me. It was a real pretty song too.” He glances over his shoulder at you with curiosity. “Was that you?”

You blink at him, keeping a straight face. 

“Hm, no I s’ppose it wasn’t you,” he answers his own question. He turns his attention back to the path ahead of him. “I reckon that it must have just been some sorta dream I had while I was out cold. But it sounded so vivid, y’ know? It sounded so fuckin’ real. And the strangest part of it all is that I don’t know how it’s even possible for me to dream of a voice like that,” he muses aloud. 

Oh? Unable to help yourself, you move yourself from behind Joel and fall into step beside him. Now it’s you that’s riddled with curiosity. What do you mean by that? 

Joel glances down at you. He grips the leather strap of his rifle and shrugs his shoulders. “Well, to be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever heard a voice quite like that in my whole entire life,” he tells you. He shrugs once more, his arm brushing against yours by accident. Joel half expected you to deck him for it, but much to his surprise, it doesn’t seem like his touch had bothered you. “It was too fuckin’ gorgeous. So beautiful that part of me wonders if it was someone or somethin’ out of this world.” He pauses and peered at you, detecting a slight glimmer of light in your eyes. “Felt like I had a real life angel singin’ to me.”

You feel the corners of your lips threatening to turn upwards into a smile. Turning your face away from him, it takes everything you had in you to force them back down. 

“Well look at that. You’re walkin’ right next to me,” Joel observes after a minute, raising an eyebrow. 

Your head whips back around.

“Must mean that I’m doin’ somethin’ right, huh darlin’?”

You snort and roll your eyes.

I think I liked it better when you weren’t talking.

Still, you remain at his side. 

The rest of the trek is silent.

Night had just fallen by the time that you and Joel finally made it to Jackson. The moment that you set your sights on the massive wooden gate out in the distance, your heart begins to pound, slamming against your ribcage.

The closer the both of you draw to the barrier, the easier it is for you to see the men and women who are standing on a platform on top of the gate, heavily armed as they keep watch—their lights illuminate the perimeter of the settlement and light up the velvet purple sky. 

You stop dead in your tracks. Oh fuck that.

Joel shakes his head. “S’alright. Don’t be scared.”

There’s six people standing on top of that gate armed with fucking assault rifles. And you don’t expect me to be scared? Are you for real?

“Look, things might be a little tense at first when the patrolmen see us,” he admits, raking a hand through his hair. “None of them have any idea that I’m still alive, but as soon as they see that it’s me, they’re gonna stand down. All I need is for you to stay calm and follow my lead, alright?” He nods at the pistol in your hand. “M’also gonna need for you to put your gun away and out of sight.”

You glare at him, your eyes flashing angrily in the darkness.

You said I could have my weapons on me. 

Joel holds up his hand. “I promise that I ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you, alright? I swear it on my fuckin’ life,” he vows. “You have my word. No one’s gonna hurt you. I won’t let them. Just stay calm and do as I say. Please,” he adds, a hint of desperation lacing his tone. “Y’think you can do that for me?”

Your mind is screaming, begging you to run and run fast. Instead, you find yourself reluctantly tucking your gun into the waistband of your jeans, concealing it just like Joel had asked you to do. 

“Stay behind me,” he instructs, shoving his own rifle behind him. He begins leading the way towards the gate and beckons for you to follow close. 

The second the two of you step out from the darkness and into the light, the sound of firearms cocking breaks through the silence of the night. 

“Stop right there!” A woman’s voice shouts. “Freeze! Or we’ll fucking shoot!”

“Melissa, it’s me!” Joel calls out, holding up his hands. “It’s Joel!”

“What?”

He huffs and yells again, “It’s Joel!”

“Wait a goddamn minute, everyone fucking stand down!” Melissa loudly barks the order at the five other patrol men and women who are standing on either side of her with their firearms aimed and at the ready. “Joel? Joel Miller, is that really you?” She leans her body forward over the gate and squints at him, letting out an incredulous laugh. “Well butter my fucking ass and call me a goddamn biscuit, the man is fucking alive! Quick, open up the gates! Somebody go and get Tommy! Let’s go, fucking move it people!”

Joel drops his hands, sighing in relief.

You, on the other hand, are scared shitless and wonder if it’s too late to make a run for it. 

“Remember,” he says, looking back at you. “Calm. Okay?”

You force a small, tight nod of your head. 

Okay. 

The gate’s doors pull apart and he leads you up to them and through to the other side where you and Joel are met with a frantic crowd of at least two dozen people—the obnoxious, overlapping chatter coupled with the blatant stares you’re receiving cause an overwhelming feeling of anxiousness to wash over you in a massive wave that, if you allow it, is going to drown you right there on the spot. Refusing to make eye contact with anybody, you fix your gaze on Joel, keeping it focused on the broadness of his back as more and more people circle around the both of you, caging you in with nowhere to run. 

“Joel!” Melissa elbows her way through the large crowd, rushing up to him. She grabs him by the arms, giving him a quick once over. “Holy shit! We thought you were fucking dead! I can’t fucking believe it!”

“Where’s Tommy?” Joel asks her.

“At home with Maria. Lisa went to pull him out of bed—where the hell have you been, Joel? It’s been three fucking days!”

Joel purses his lips together tightly. He can feel you inching yourself forward, trying to stand as close to him as possible as more people join the scene. The toes of your boots touch the heels of his, your chest lightly brushing against his back. While Joel doesn’t blame the people of the town for being curious, he isn’t all too fond of the way they’re staring at you—the gestures and the finger pointing, the mutters and the whispers. He doesn’t have to see you to know it’s making you uncomfortable, and his priority is to get you out of there and somewhere where you would feel safe. “Listen, it’s a real long story that I ain’t got time for right this minute. I need Tommy—”

“Miller!”

A loud, booming voice comes from behind Melissa.

It belongs to a tall, bulky blond haired man—his mere presence is intimidating, proven by how it had taken absolutely nothing for the crowd to part and make room for him to pass through. Smirking, he saunters up to Joel and remarks, “I thought you were a fucking goner.”

Joel’s jaw clenches, but he says nothing. 

The tension between the two men could be sliced with a fucking machete.

His blue eyes flit over Joel’s shoulder to you. “Well, well, well. Who is this sweet little lady?”

You step even closer to Joel, pressing yourself against his backside and taking a fistful of his shirt.

“None of your fuckin’ business, that’s who.”

Keith’s smirk widens. “Actually, as head of safety and security for this community, it fucking is my business,” he reminds him. “She infected?”

Joel raises his eyebrows. “Does she look fuckin’ infected to you?”

“You know the commune’s rules, Miller.” Without tearing his eyes away from you, Keith calls over his shoulder, “Bring out one of the hounds! Now!”

Behind him, Joel hears a small gasp.

Hounds?

Joel whirls around. “Hey, s’alright,” he says quickly before you can start to panic. “We have dogs that have been trained to sniff out the cordyceps infection. S’just gonna smell you, that’s all.”

The crowd backs away as a woman with cropped hair brings out a large black dog on a chain leash attached to a brown leather harness. Once it catches sight of you, the unfamiliar newcomer, the animal begins to bark and growl, thrashing around as it tries to lunge towards you. The dog tugs and pulls at his leash so violently that he nearly knocks his handler over. The woman unclips the leash and sets the dog free—it approaches you, snarling and baring its teeth. 

You start to back away, but Joel stops you.

“Relax,” he mutters to you under his breath. He moves to stand beside you and holds out his hand, offering it in an attempt to comfort you and ease the fear. He hadn’t expected you to accept it, so when you place your hand in his and lace your fingers with his own, he’s taken by complete surprise. 

You squeeze his rough, calloused fingers as the dog comes closer towards you. Nervously, you hold your other hand out to it, prompting it to snap at you, its teeth snapping together. Somehow, you muster enough courage to hold your hand steady and the animal growls, but then gives it a sniff. When it doesn’t detect what it’s searching for, the dog happily wags his tail and gives your hand a friendly lick before running back over to its handler who puts the animal back on the leash. 

You breathe out in relief. 

“There,” Joel snaps at Keith. “You satisfied?”

Keith clicks his tongue. “Almost,” he drawls. He walks over to you, another smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “What’s your name, dollface?”

Your stomach drops at the nickname. Looking down at the dirt, you don’t reply.

“Aw, she’s shy! Well isn’t that just adorable.” Keith lets out a raspy laugh, causing a couple of the onlookers to laugh along with him. “What’s the matter, sweetie pie? Hm? Cat got your tongue?”

Joel drops your hand, his nostrils flaring. “Back off asshole or else—”

Ignoring him, the blond patrolman eyes the weapon hanging on your shoulder. “That’s a really nice bow you’ve got there,” Keith states, cutting off Joel’s threat. “But we do have rules here. Newcomers have to surrender their weapons so they can be stored away securely. We don’t know you and until we can know for sure you won’t be a threat to the people of this town, you’re going to have to surrender that bow along with all other weapons you’re carrying.” Keith lowers his voice as he adds, “And I would advise you not to try and hide anything because I’m going to be the one to pat you down—and I’ll be thorough. I don’t take all too kindly to liars, so keep that in mind.”

“You just threaten her in front of me?” Trying his hardest not to cause a scene with so many people watching the three of you, Joel keeps his voice low and quiet—but the sharp, dangerous edge to his tone can’t be missed. 

“Of course I didn’t,” Keith responds, innocently. “All I was doing was letting her know how we work around here in Jackson. We’ve been operating the town the same way for years now for a good reason. The rules we set in place apply to any and all newcomers, regardless of who they came here with.” He holds out his hands to you. “Surrender all of your weapons to me. Now.”

Shaking your head, you take a step back. This was not what you’d agreed to. This wasn’t the promise that Joel had made you back at the cabin. 

Joel glares at him. “She ain’t surrenderin’ a goddamn thing—”

It’s too late.

Keith steps towards you and goes for the bow. As his hand shoots out to take it from your shoulder, you quickly turn your body and swiftly dodge it. He feels his face burn with red hot anger as several onlookers gasp at your act of rebelliousness. Furious, Keith reaches for you again and grabs you, taking the upper part of your arm in a harsh grip that makes you squeak out in pain. 

You lift your opposite arm and swing a curled fist up towards his face, but he catches your wrist in his other hand before it can connect with his jawline. 

Joel!

You try to say his name, but you fucking can’t. 

Your mouth opens and nothing comes out. For as hard you push and try to force it, you can’t find your voice. Instead, all that falls from your lips is a pathetic, strangled little cry. You yank and pull, struggling as you try to tear yourself out of Keith’s grasp. 

Livid, Joel nearly goes fucking blind with rage. He snatches Keith by the collar of his leather jacket, ripping him away from you. Though he’s still sore as from the fall off of his horse three days ago, he uses every ounce of strength he has left in him to throw him down into the dirt at the feet of a fellow patrolman named Wyatt. “Don’t. Fuckin’. Touch. Her.” He barely manages to bite out the words through gritted teeth. “Ever.”

Wyatt helps him up to his feet. “You alright, man?”

“Get the fuck off me!” Keith snarls, pushing him away. His chest is heaving and his face turns a deep shade of red. Whether it’s because he’s embarrassed or if it’s because he’s angry, no one can quite tell the difference. One thing is for damn sure, he isn’t used to someone going against his authority and everyone watching holds their breath, waiting to see what he’s going to do next. After all, the man going against him happened to be their leader’s brother in law. “What the fuck is your goddamn problem, Miller? It’s protocol—”

“Not today it ain’t.”

Keith approaches him, his hands curled into tight fists at his sides. He stands so close that the two of them are chest to chest, ready to tear each other to shreds. “Do you think just because your fucking brother is second in command, you can just do as you please? Is that it?” He questions, bitterly. “It doesn’t fucking work like that. We have rules set in place for a reason, Joel. We are going to do this by the fucking book whether your little girlfriend here likes it or not, got it?”

Stepping around him, he starts towards you but Joel is quick to block his path. He stands in front of you and squares his shoulders.

He speaks, his voice dangerously low. “You listen and you listen good. If you even so much as think about layin’ another fuckin’ finger on her, I’ll make sure you spend the rest of tonight pickin’ up your teeth off the ground. You understand me?”

“That a threat?”

“It ain’t a threat. It’s a fuckin’ promise.”

Keith pulls his arm back and he’s about ready to take a swing when he’s stopped by the sound of Tommy Miller’s frantic voice. 

“Joel! Where is he—where the fuck is Joel?”

The much younger, raven haired man approaches the scene, shrugging a blue denim jacket over his cotton white t-shirt. The instant that he spots Joel, he runs up to him and throws his arms around his shoulders. “Fuckin’ Christ, I thought I fuckin’ lost you out there! What the hell happened?”

“Where’s Ellie?” Joel demands. “She okay?”

“She’s fast asleep at my place with Maria and the baby. She’s been with us this entire time.”

Joel’s shoulders sag in relief.

Tommy looks around, frowning. “What’s going on? What’s everyone doin’ out here?” He then sees you and raises his eyebrows at his older brother. “Joel? Who’s that?”

“Look, I’ll explain everything, can we just—can we talk in private?”

Although he’s confused, Tommy nods. 

“Of course. C’mon, let’s go back to my place.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” Tommy states as soon as Joel had finished recounting the story—well, what he could remember, anyway. It wasn’t much.

You’re sitting beside Joel across the table from Tommy and Maria in the kitchen of their home. All three of them speak in quiet, hushed voices so as not to wake Ellie and Samuel, Tommy and Maria’s infant son. Maria had offered to go upstairs to pull Ellie out of bed so that she and Joel could reunite, but when Tommy mentioned tonight had been the first night since Joel had gone missing three days ago that she had finally managed to fall asleep, everyone agreed it would be best to wait until the morning. 

“So, she saved your life,” Tommy concludes. His brown eyes, even darker than those of his older brother, flicker over to you once again. You sit there in complete silence, staring at the top of the wooden table, refusing to meet his gaze—or that of his wife. 

Joel nods. “She did, Tommy. I don’t fuckin’ know how, but what I do know is that if it wasn’t for her, then I wouldn’t be sittin’ here at this table right now.”

You shuffle uncomfortably in your chair. Though the couple had been kind to you, it didn’t make it any easier when they stared at you like you had a second head. 

“She saved your life and you don’t even know her name?” Tommy’s in complete disbelief.

“No. She doesn’t talk.”

Maria hums. “I have an idea. Let me find her a notepad or something to write on,” she suggests after a minute. She stands up, wrapping her cotton blue robe around herself, concealing her pajamas as she walks over to the kitchen counter. It takes her a bit of digging around, but in one of her junk drawers, she finds a pen and a small notepad. She makes her way back over to the table and sets the items down in front of you. “Can you write down your name for us?”

You don’t move a single muscle.

“It’s okay, honey. Just write down your name—”

“Best we don’t push her too much,” Joel warns her, holding out his hand to stop her from coming too close into your space.

You glance up at him, your lips parting slightly.

“Don’t worry,” he tells you. “You ain’t gotta tell us anythin’ until you’re good and ready. Alright?”

Tommy clears his throat. “Joel? Can me and you have a quick word in private please?”

Your heart skips an anxious beat.

No, wait! Please don’t leave me.

Less than eight hours ago, you’d been wary of this man, unable to fully trust him. Now, just the mere thought of him leaving your side puts you on edge.

“S’fine, we’re just gonna be out in the hallway,” he assures you. “It’ll only be for a minute or two.”

Realizing you didn’t want to be left alone with her, Maria jabs a thumb over her shoulder towards the gas powered stove. “I’m going to make myself a hot cup of chamomile tea. I can boil water for an extra mug if you’d like some?” she offers, warmly.

You’d turned down food and water already, much too afraid to accept anything from her. However, a warm drink did sound tempting and truth be told, Maria did seem like a nice woman. She’s Joel’s family—maybe it wouldn’t hurt to at the very least try and trust her too. 

Finally, you nod your head.

“Great,” Maria smiles, looking pleased. “I think it’ll do you some good. Chamomile is very soothing. It helps me relax—something that’s hard to do when you have a fussy six month old,” she kids as she whirls around and goes about preparing the tea. 

After making certain that you’ll be fine without him, Joel follows Tommy out into the hallway. 

“Joel, what were you thinkin’ bringing her here?”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

Tommy sighs. “We need to be careful about who we bring into Jackson—”

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me right now? You worried about this girl bein’ a threat?” Joel stares at him in complete shock. “You serious, Tommy?”

“For all we know, she could be a threat. She didn’t want to give up her weapons, Joel! She even took a swing at Keith!” He hisses. “And she did it in front of a fuckin’ crowd!”

“He put his fuckin’ hands on her—”

“She didn’t cooperate, Joel. You know damn good and well what happens when someone isn’t willin’ to cooperate with the rules. It leads to nothin’ but trouble and you know it as well as I do,” Tommy says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Her first impression here wasn’t a good one. And to make matters a whole lot worse, we don’t know anythin’ about her. It’s a risk takin’ her into the community.”

Joel can’t even believe what he’s hearing. 

“So you’d rather I just left her out there alone?”

“Look Joel, we don’t know what she’s capable of,” Tommy reminds him, quietly. “If she’s managed to survive out there all on her own for this fuckin’ long, then who the hell knows what she’s done or what kind of blood is on her hands—you might be thinkin’ that she’s some helpless little victim, but maybe she’s not. Hell, we’ll never know because the girl can’t fuckin’ talk. Or maybe she just won’t talk. Either way, we’re runnin’ a huge risk by takin’ her in without knowin’ who the hell she is or where she came from.”

Joel glares at him. “Listen here, whether she can’t talk or just won’t talk, that doesn’t fuckin’ matter,” he says. He pauses briefly, long enough to take a peek back into the kitchen where you’re still sitting at the table. After she’d finished making the tea, Maria took the two steaming mugs and sat down in the chair beside you. She’s now trying almost desperately to get you to write down your name on the notepad. He immediately notices the way that you’d started wringing your hands together anxiously in your lap and he knows you’re debating in your mind whether or not you should reveal your identity to the stranger. He turns back to his brother with a frown. “She ain’t a helpless victim. She’s a survivor. She saved my fuckin’ life out there, Tommy. If it weren’t for her, I would be dead right now.”

“And where is she gonna stay?”

“With me and Ellie, of course.”

Tommy almost laughs. “Wait. You’re gonna be in charge of her? Someone who won’t fuckin’ talk to you? Whose name you don’t even know? Are you serious?”

Joel doesn’t even think twice about it. “Yeah.”

“Look Joel, I know you can be kind of a fuckin’ dumbass, but you can’t possibly be this goddamn dumb, big brother. Think ‘bout it—”

“I already have thought about it. She’s stayin’ with me.” Joel shrugs. “I know it ain’t gonna be easy, but maybe I can get her to trust me enough to talk to me.”

Tommy raises an eyebrow at him. “You really think she can talk and she’s just choosin’ not to?”

“I think she wants to talk, but she can’t. She’s too scared right now. But if I can get her to really trust me—”

“That girl ain’t gonna fuckin’ trust you, Joel.”

“She trusted me enough to come to Jackson,” he says, fiercely. “That has to mean somethin’, I just know it does.”

Tommy exhales a long and heavy sigh. He already knew just how fucking stubborn his brother could be. There’s no changing Joel’s mind once it was made up. 

Maria steps out into the hallway. “No luck,” she tells them, shaking her head lightly. “I can’t even begin to imagine what she’s been through. If she’s too terrified to even give us her name—”

“It must’ve been somethin’ real bad,” Joel finishes for her. He places his hands on his hips. “I think I might have some idea of what happened to her.”

“What do you mean?” she asks. 

Joel lowers his voice as he briefly tells Tommy and Maria about the scars he’d seen around your wrist. “Like she’s been in handcuffs or somethin’,” he murmurs. “Think it could’ve been FEDRA?”

“Possibly.” Maria thinks it over for a moment. “There’s also a good possibility that she’s been a prisoner in a slave camp.”

Slavers.

Joel’s stomach churns at the thought of it. He’d heard about those kinds of groups, about the cruel and inhumane things they did to their prisoners. 

He fucking hoped that wasn’t it. But something in his gut told him not to be so goddamn naive. 

“Listen, we feel for the girl, Joel. We do,” Tommy admits. “And we’re willin’ to give her some time to adjust, same as we did with you and with Ellie—same as we do with all newcomers. But regardless of what she’s been through, she’s still gonna need to pull her weight around here, just like the rest of us. She’s expected to take on work duty just like everybody else. It’ll be hard findin’ the right job for her if she’s not gonna talk to anyone so the sooner you can get her to break her silence, the better it’ll be,” he advises. He points a finger at his brother. “From this point on, she’s your responsibility.”

“I can handle it, Tommy.”

“For your sake, I really hope you can.”

“Good to know you’ve got faith in me,” Joel makes the sarcastic comment under his breath, but he’s certain Tommy had heard it. “It’s gettin’ pretty late now. She’s exhausted and so am I. M’gonna take her back to my place and get her settled in for the night.”

“What ‘bout Ellie?”

“Best she just stays here with you two tonight. As soon as she’s up in the mornin’, you can bring her on over to mine if that’s alright with you and Maria?”

Tommy nods. “You got it, brother.”

“Besides, I figure it’ll give me a bit of extra time to think of how I’m gonna explain everythin’ to her.” Joel suddenly realizes that he hadn’t given much thought about how he was going to tell Ellie about you—how he was going to explain your condition to her and how you’d be sharing a roof with them from this point on. 

Tommy chuckles. “Yeah, good luck with that one.”

Rolling his eyes, Joel roughly shoves past him and back into the kitchen. 

You hadn’t drank the tea Maria had made you, but you’d wrapped your hands around the ceramic red mug to warm them up. 

“C’mon,” he beckons to you with his hand. “Let’s go. M’gonna take you home now.”

Home. 

The word rinds oddly in your ears.

You stand up from the table.

“Wait.” Maria picks up the notepad and pen, handing them over to you. “Here. Take these with you. Just in case you decide you want to use them.”

Joel pushes through the front door, switching on the lights in the foyer of his home before stepping aside to let you in. He watches as you stand there at the door looking rather apprehensive. “It’s okay, darlin’. S’just me and you here tonight.”

Carefully, you step over the threshold. When was the last time you’d even set foot in an actual house? One with running water and electricity?

You couldn’t remember.

Joel shuts the front door behind you and locks it. “Let’s go upstairs.” He gestures for you to follow him up the cherrywood staircase. “It’s pretty late, so I’ll show you the rest of the house tomorrow in the mornin’,” he promises you over his shoulder. At the top of the staircase, Joel switches on more lights that illuminate a short hallway. He points to a door at the end of it, stating, “That one there at the end, that’s mine. This one here is Ellie’s. We also have a third spare, it’s right across from her.” He nods with his head towards the door of the bedroom he’d been referring to. “Go on. Open it up and check it out for yourself.”

You want me to open the door?

Seeing your expression, Joel chuckles. “Go on. It’s alright. There’s nothin’ bad in there. I promise.”

You momentarily hesitate. Fingers trembling, you reach out and grasp the brass door knob, slowly turning it and pushing the door open. You peek inside and flip the light switch next to the door frame.

You gasp. Holy shit, is this fucking real?

The spare bedroom is fully furnished with light oakwood furniture—a dresser up against one wall, a desk nestled in the corner, and two nightstands on either side of the most comfortable, full sized bed that you’d ever seen. The décor is minimal, but whoever had occupied the space before had a clear adoration for simple, warm, earthy tones. You nearly smile at the shades of mud brown, forest green, and autumn orange. Setting your things down on the hardwood floor, you make your way over to the bed and sit down, planting your hands firmly on either side of you. You relish in the softness of the cream colored duvet comforter. 

“I’m guessin’ you like it.” Joel can’t help but grin a little. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go see if I can get you one of my shirts or somethin’ that you can sleep in. Make yourself comfortable.” He spins around on the heel of his boot, disappearing into the hallway. 

Unable to resist, you lay back onto the bed. Your body sinks into it, melting right into the mattress. It feels like a fucking cloud. 

Joel reappears in the room just seconds later. “I can see you took what I said about makin’ yourself comfortable quite literally.” His voice causes you to shoot back up into a sitting position. Joel stands there at the door holding a long sleeved, navy and white flannel shirt in one hand—in the other, he’d been holding a gray hooded sweatshirt and from his arm swings a brown canvas tote bag. “Not too sure what you would prefer to sleep in. I figured you might want somethin’ on the warmer side. Here’s a couple options to choose from. I’ve also got t-shirts if you’d rather sleep in one of those.”

Standing up from the bed, you walk over to him and he holds out the articles of clothing for you to see better. It’s his flannel you gravitate to the most. Taking it from him, you run your fingers over the fabric.

“I can throw your clothes in the washing machine for you first thing tomorrow so they’ll be clean by the time you wake up,” he adds.

You breath out shakily.

A fucking washing machine.

“Overwhelming, ain’t it?”Joel drapes the hooded sweatshirt over a nearby chair, deciding to leave it for you as well. “Trust me, I get it. I felt the same when I first got here with Ellie. It took a lot of time for the both of us to adjust to this new way of life after being out there for so long,” he confesses to you. “The important thing is to take it one step at a time, darlin’. And somethin’ is tellin’ me the next step for you is probably takin’ a nice hot shower?”

Your mouth falls open. A hot shower? Hot?

“You’ll have to share a bathroom with Ellie.” Joel leads you out of the bedroom and to another door adjacent to yours. He shows you the bathroom, telling you which knob in the shower was for hot water and which one was for cold water. “You can use Ellie’s shampoo, m’sure she won’t mind. I’d offer you some of my own, but I don’t think you’ll wanna walk around smellin’ like sandalwood and spice.” Joel hands you the canvas bag he’d had draped over his arm. “Here. Should be pretty much everythin’ you’re gonna need. There’s a bar of soap, a couple clean washcloths, a toothbrush, and a tube of toothpaste. There’s also a razor.” He pauses. “It’s a men’s razor, one of mine I’ve never used, but I reckon it does the job just the same as a woman’s razor.”

Amused, you quirk an eyebrow at him. What the hell are you trying to say? That I need to shave?

“Not that you have to use it,” he adds quickly, his cheeks burning bright red at what you thought he had been insinuating. He shifts awkwardly from boot to boot. “I tossed it in there just in case you’d want to, but you ain’t gotta use it, that’s not what I meant at all—”

Deciding you don’t want to see him squirm, you lift a hand up to stop him and shake your head.

Truth be told, you actually couldn’t fucking wait to shave your legs.

Calm down, cowboy. It’s all good.

Realizing he hadn’t offended you, Joel relaxes. “I’ll let you get to your shower. You take as long as you want, but just try and leave some hot water for me since I’m next,” he chuckles. “As soon as we both get all cleaned up, we can meet downstairs in the kitchen for a quick bite to eat before bed. Deal?”

Deal.

He’s about to leave you to it when you stop him, grabbing his arm. Wait a second, Joel.

Joel’s eyes meet yours. “Yeah?”

Thank you.

Your gratitude might have been silent, but it was there and he knew it. 

Feeling brave, Joel reaches up and places his hand over yours for a moment, his thumb brushing against the softness of your skin. “No need to thank me, sweetheart.” 

Letting his hand drop away from yours, Joel then turns and leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him to give you your privacy. 

Once you have the hot water running, you kick off your boots and start to peel off your clothes, tossing them into a pile on the floor near the door. Completely naked, you turn your back towards the oval shaped mirror hanging over the bathroom sink, unwilling to take a look at the scars on your body—painful reminders of the cruel punishments you’d endured during your time in captivity. 

You grab the toiletries from the tote bag Joel had given you and set them on the side of the tub. Pulling the yellow floral curtain aside, you step into the shower and position yourself directly underneath the scalding hot water, letting it burn your skin to give you an entirely different kind of pain to think about, even if it was just for a minute until your body adjusted to the temperature of the water and it no longer hurt. 

You begin washing yourself, trying your hardest to keep from crumbling. But you couldn’t. Lump in your throat and a tightness in your chest, tears brim your eyes, ready to fall. 

You’re willing to let them. 

Two years. For almost two fucking years, you had been suppressing your emotions. You’d been in a constant survival mode, there had been no time to feel anything. And now here you were, standing in a fucking shower with all the freedom in the world to just let it all out. 

Silent sobs wrack your body, bringing you down onto your knees. 

Joel’s shower had been a quick one.

You hadn’t left him very much hot water—but he couldn’t even be mad about it.

He pulls on a pair of light gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He haphazardly dries off his hair and makes his way downstairs, knowing you would be heading down there any minute now to meet him like you’d agreed. Without much time to make a proper meal for you to eat, Joel goes about the dimly lit kitchen and prepares a couple of cold turkey sandwiches. He’d just plated them and set them on the table when the soft padding of bare feet on the hardwood floor prompts him to look up. 

His breath catches in his throat. You stand there in the doorway wearing nothing but his flannel shirt. The hem of it falls to the middle of your thighs, and it takes everything in him not to think about the fact that you weren’t wearing anything under his shirt. His fucking shirt.

Clearing his throat lightly, he makes sure not to let his gaze wander where it’s not supposed to. “I bet you feel a lot better, don’t you?”

You sigh softly. Oh, you have no fucking idea.

Noticing you’re holding your hands behind your back, Joel shoots you a puzzled look. “What’cha got there?”

You bring your arms forward. Clutched in your hands is the notepad and pen that Maria had given you.

Although he takes it as a sign that you are willing to communicate with him, Joel knows better than to get too far ahead of himself. He’d wait until you were ready to make the first move and he’d follow your lead. “I made you a sandwich to eat,” he tells you, pulling out a chair at the table. “C’mon, come have a seat.”

After you sit down, Joel goes over to the sink and fills two glasses of water, one for you and one for himself. Setting them down on the table, he finally takes a seat across from you—that’s when he notices the redness in your eyes. You’d been crying. Even though he wants to ask you if you’re alright, Joel decides against it for the time being and the two of you eat in comfortable, tranquil silence.

“I can make you another one if you’re still hungry,” Joel offers when you polish off the last couple bites of your sandwich. 

Shaking your head, you place your hands on your belly signaling that you’re full. You’re not, though. You’d eagerly scarf another three of them down if you could, but you were a lot more exhausted than you were hungry and you couldn’t wait to crawl into that bed upstairs and get some sleep.. 

Joel studies you. “You okay, darlin’?”

You shrug. This has just been a lot to process.

“I know it’s gonna be tough for you. It’s like I told you earlier, it’s gonna take some time to adjust to your new life here in Jackson. But I need you to know you ain’t alone anymore. I’m gonna be here to look out for you. And trust me, I know you don’t really need me to.” Joel pauses and shoots you a crooked little grin. “Hell, you took a swing at Keith. You’ve got bigger fuckin’ balls than half of the men in this town. Includin’ myself.”

You let out a huff of amusement from your nose and the corners of your mouth tug into a small smile—you don’t try to force it down. 

Joel blurts the words before he can even think to stop himself. “You’ve got a real nice smile, y’know.”

Biting down on your bottom lip, you move your empty plate off to the side and grab your pen and notepad. You swiftly scribble something onto the blank page, then slide it across the table to Joel. 

He picks it up, an odd sensation fluttering inside his chest when he realizes what you had done.

You’d written down your name for him.

He says it out loud, and then looks up at you.

“That’s a real beautiful name.” Sincerity drips from his tone, going hand in hand with his compliment.

Cheeks burning, you glance down at your hands, which you’d begun wringing together on top of the table. It was out of nervousness, but this kind was different. You couldn’t quite explain it. 

“I know it’s gonna take a whole lot more than a hot shower and a sandwich to get you to trust me. But I swear that I’m gonna do whatever I can to show you that you ain’t got anythin’ to be afraid of. Not with me around. Okay?”

Okay. 

You open your mouth, trying to repeat the word back to him. 

Joel’s eyes widen slightly. You wanted to talk to him—you were actually trying to talk to him. But it was a clear struggle. Something wasn’t letting you find your voice. 

Clamping your mouth shut, you sigh and sink back into your chair. I’m sorry. I can’t.

“It’s okay,” he says, softly. “We’re gonna take this one step at a time. Together.”

[luveline]

I'm having extremely horrid self-image these days so I was just wondering if you could write Aaron comforting reader about it?

You used to do your makeup on the bedroom floor in Aaron's floor length mirror. He found it endearing apparently, he'd always laugh quietly and step around you, promising that one day he was going to get you a vanity. 

And then he tells you he loves you and asks you to move in, and then there's a vanity waiting for you when you do. Aaron stops laughing in the morning and starts leaning down to kiss your cheek. "That's better, hm?"

It feels like playing dress up. You appreciate him, you love him, but you sit there with your makeup bag and your hair oils and feel awful. Deep down, pervasively, achingly awful. You're not the type of girl who gets the nice house and a nice boyfriend, who sits at her vanity primping and preening. No matter what you do, you'll always look like this.

"What are you doing?" he asks quietly. 

He's laying in bed behind you, sleep heavy on his tongue. You wipe a cotton pad wet with toner over your cheeks, avoiding his gaze in the mirror as you answer, "Just getting ready." 

"For what?" 

"Just the day." 

"You don't sound very happy, honey." He sits up, the front most strands of his hair falling onto his forehead, due for a trim. When he says 'honey', his brows lift from their furrow imploringly. It's madness that he can wake and throw himself straight into profiling mode. "What's wrong?" 

"It's nothing." 

"I don't think so. Come back to bed." We'll talk about it goes unsaid. Aaron's voice can colour a thousand shades but your favourite is this gentle lulling, his hand stretched out over the sheets to beckon you in. 

You put your used cotton pads aside and stand with a weird feeling in your throat like you swallowed something without chewing properly. Aaron watches you. He's good at pretending he isn't, but you know he is, his dark eyes tracing the shine of toner on your tacky cheek. 

"You smell nice," he says, kissing under your jaw, forcing your face up. "And you're so soft."

"Trying to butter me up before you ask me what's wrong." 

"But I'm not lying… What is wrong?" 

You meet his eyes, asking for permission of a sort that you don't need to ask for. He lifts his head in answer and opens his arms, pulling your face into the crook of his neck and your chest against his, murmuring, "Honey, honey," over your head. "What's wrong?" 

It comes as little surprise to him when you explain, your voice hushed with shame. I just feel so… disgusting. You don't say it with distinction but he gathers it anyhow, your lack of self esteem, not in the sense of putting yourself forward, but in that you don't like the way you look, the way people see you. 

"I can't control the way you see me, so you see me at my worst." 

"You don't have a worst." He lays back against the headboard and drags you down with him. "You're always beautiful."

You shake your head. 

You and Aaron linger in silence for a while, the only sound his fingers tightening against the fabric of your t-shirt on your waist. "Do you know why I wanted you to have your vanity?" 

"Well, you kept tripping over me in the mornings." 

"I did… I'd be watching you get ready and I'd find myself distracted," he says, low and quiet, as though confessing. "So yes, I'd trip over you. I wouldn't watch where I was going but I'd want go be closer, and I'd accidentally hit your arm and you'd look up. First in the mirror, and then over your shoulder. My heart–" He clears his throat. "Your vanity was an act of self preservation." 

"Because you're so old?"

"Careful," he says lightly, giving your waist a squeeze. "Because now I get to watch you from right here." He looks down at the vanity and you follow his gaze, seeing more of him than you, wrapped up in his arms. You look peaceful together. "Every morning." 

You close your eyes, rubbing your cheek into his shoulder. "And that's fun for you." 

"It's the best part of my day." 

[enchantedflameandflower]

Gavin (Karl Urban) x reader! Part 5

Gavin gets wet and has to (teasingly) take his flannel and his jeans off, then he wants to get to know ALL of you better, plus tent make-out time.

(I know this isn’t rain wetness but pretend it’s rain wetness)

Summary: When you started working at the lumber mill, you couldn't help but instantly fall in lust with the strong, quiet younger brother. But you're determined to keep it professional, until one work trip suddenly changes it all.

co-written with CheshireCatSmile

@kus-babygirl @shirley-girly @jynx15 @everchar-of-the-shire @scraftsku35

@vavafaure1994 @deathlesun @sickforbillybutcher @butchers-girl @hippo2211

@bohemianblasphemy

karl urban masterlist

direct link to part 1

part 4

Part 5

You can’t remember a time when you’ve ever felt more taken care of and you find yourself missing him weirdly even though he just left and it will only be a few minutes. You change quickly from your jeans into your sweats then climb into your sleeping bag but stay sitting up waiting for him to come back.

You can hear the rain drip-dripping on the roof of the small tent and worry that he's getting soaked as he works. After a few minutes he's crawling into the tent, his damp hair tousled, plastered to his forehead and curling a bit at his nape.  "It got heavier a little sooner than I anticipated. The weather pattern is a little off for the season." He shrugs out of his damp jacket. "Shoulda used my rain poncho."

You take his jacket from him and lay it off to the side where it’s out of the way and can hopefully dry a little. “It’s my fault for falling asleep. We sat by the fire too long. Are you going to be comfortable enough?” You chew on your lip.

"I'll be fine, sweetheart. I've weathered worse,” he grins at you. “Besides I have your company...that in itself is a warm pleasure. I need to get out of this wet shirt, though...I hope you don't mind."

You swallow and shake your head. “No, no of course not. I was hoping you would say you would take it off. I mean I was hoping you had something to change into, so your shirt…can dry…” Damn you know you’re blushing again. You’re usually not like this at all.

He looks at you, his dark eyes dancing with mischief as he unbuttons his damp flannel shirt, slowly revealing smooth skin and springy dark chest hair and muscles... Just then the heavens open up to release a downpour that drums steadily on the tent's slanted roof. He looks up toward the top of the tent checking the seam then looks back at you. "We may be stuck here a little while if this doesn't slack off by morning."

You mean to look away and busy yourself with your phone or something but the mischief in his dark eyes just captivates you and you end up just watching him as he unbuttons his shirt. “Well I have to admit I wouldn’t mind a long morning. With you.”

"Hmmmm...that sounds intriguing,” he smiles. He pulls a thermal shirt out and slides it over his head. It fits fairly snuggly over his muscled chest then he tugs his boots off and sets them aside. He pushes his jeans off quickly so he’s just in his knit boxers and slips into his sleeping bag, but not before you get a good long look at his muscled thighs. Propping himself on his elbow with his head leaning on his hand he lets his eyes travel over you then says, "So tell me about yourself. I'd like to get to know you better."

You smile a little then you lay down as well and try to snuggle down in the sleeping bag to get warm. It is a very good sleeping bag and there’s even a nice sleeping pad. “What kinds of things do you want to know?” you murmur. He looks so damn good in his thermal and you keep thinking of the image of him shimmying out of his jeans.

"Mmm....do you have family close by? Or did you travel from far away to come up here to the forest?  You seem to like hiking and being outdoors so probably not a city girl...."

You smile. “I actually did grow up in a city but I hated it. We moved out of the city when I was older. My father left when I was young and he eventually just stopped calling. I don’t know where he is. My mom passed away when I was in college. I moved here last year to…get away from that bad relationship. Start over. Or try to.”

His eyes soften and warm as he listens to you. "I had no idea you were completely alone...I mean without family. I guess I used to take mine for granted a lot of the time. Then I almost lost them through my own hard-headedness. You must be really strong deep down to come through all that and be doing so well.” He reaches out and caresses your shoulder.

Your eyes flutter closed for a moment at the touch of his hand and you can’t help wishing for more. “I don’t know if I’m strong,” you murmur. “You know I overheard Jack once…he said he didn’t listen to you that night. That he didn’t believe you and he let you down. That if he had supported you the next day wouldn’t have happened. Maybe it wasn’t completely on you…”

"I don't know. I guess I'm always looking for some way to get ahead and sometimes I should stop and think about something longer before jumping in with both feet....  Maybe I just need someone smart and grounded to rein me in. I mean...without the whole big brother-little brother vibe."  He looks at you thoughtfully and moves his hand to stroke your hair.

“Usually having someone that supports you unconditionally in your life can be quite a help,” you smile. “Mmmm Gavin, that feels really good…” you wish somehow you could lean into his touch more, feel more, soak up more of his warmth.

He scoots just a little closer and keeps stroking your hair slowly. "Y'know...your hair is beautiful. I couldn't help it. It feels like warm silk. I kept wondering if it was as soft as it looked. It's softer than I imagined.”

You laugh a little softly. Then you finally give in, reaching your hand out to touch his chest, just barely grazing your fingertips over his shirt. “I don’t think anyone has been this nice to me in years…”

"Oh sweetheart," he says then hesitates... You can see emotions swirling in the depths of his dark eyes. Then it's as though something shifts and settles in him. He reaches out his strong hands and gently pulls you closer, partway out of your sleeping bag and into his chest.

“Gavin,” you murmur breathlessly. You press and burrow into his chest and it feels warm and broad and safe, and your heart is beating just a little faster in that really good way. “You feel so good,” you whisper before you realize what your saying.

He tightens his hold on you. "And you feel perfect in my arms...like you were meant to be here." You can hear his steady heartbeat as he pulls you in closer.

He studies you a moment and then...very very slowly he tilts your face up to him and leans down to brush a tentative kiss over your lips.

His lips are warm and dry and he’s so gentle as he kisses you. You feel like a new warmth comes to life inside of you and a soft little noise escapes you as you slip your hands over his broad shoulders.

He gently coaxes until you let him in and his tongue slides over yours and tangles in a slow dance…possessive but caring.

You whimper softly as you open fully to him. How can this feel so good so quickly… you’ve never felt anything like it. His tongue plays against yours and you wrap your  arms around his neck. A soft shiver goes through your whole body.

Gavin pulls you closer to him, tighter against him, willing his heat into you. He continues the surprisingly sensuous kiss, his large hand finding its way under your shirt to smooth over the skin of your lower back. His hands are warm and gentle but the callouses there are a delicious contrast, a sensuous texture that makes you shiver again. He finally lets you up to breath and you try to catch your breath.

“You’re so warm…” you murmur. “If only I could sleep here I wouldn’t worry about getting cold tonight.”

He smiles softly. "I have an idea.  Let's zip the sleeping bags together to make a double. We can stay nice and toasty that way. I have a feeling the temperature out here is going to be a lot colder than we first figured.”

“I’m already getting cold so I think you’re right. But are you sure you wouldn’t mind…just sleeping tonight?” There’s still a part of you that’s nervous even though his touch has you imagining all sort of wanton things that you want very much.

"No, sweetheart that's fine with me. I think there could be something special here if we give it a chance. We don’t have to rush it. And that's unusual for me,” his voice goes a little lower, just a little husky. “I just want to hold you and know you're safe in my arms tonight."

~*~*~*~ Next up: waking up in his big strong arms against his big strong chest is an experience, and if there’s one man it’s impossible to go slow with it’s this one

Part 6

karl urban masterlist

[gatorbites-imagines]

In honor of the (late) Christmas season, I’d love to request something with Billy Lenz (love his underrated ass)

Something smutty ofc, whatever you think suits him best! Thanks <:) i adore your writing

Billy Lenz x male reader

Drabble

I love Billy Lenz, hes my little freaky guy.

Somnophilia warning, if that’s not your thing.

Shaky, uneven breathing was the only noise in the dark bedroom besides the slick uneven noise of Billys hand dragging up and down his shaft. He was straddling your sleeping body, knees settled far enough apart that no part of him was actually touching you, but you were oh so close.

Close enough for him to see your chest rise and fall, close enough to smell you, and oh how your smell made his eyes roll back into his head, tremors of needy desperation running through his bloodstream.

The darkness of the room covered his features, the dark December night working in his favor, as it allowed him to get closer and closer to you at night, until finally, he found himself bold enough to crawl onto the bed with you. The first nights he hadn’t done anything besides sitting near you, just staring with wide unblinking eyes, as you looked so peaceful dead to the world.

But soon that wasn’t enough, and Billy had undone his belt and started touching himself, sometimes going as far as to bury his face into your sheets right beside you, muffling his sloppy barely suppressed moans and whimpers as he worked himself harder and faster.

Tonight, that hadn’t been enough, even after dragging two whole orgasms out of himself, even as his cock ached from overstimulation, it wasn’t enough. With a pair of your used boxers pressed to his face, the man huffing your scent and musk like a drug, he found himself working his length a third time, twitching and shaking at the electricity it sent through him.

Drool ran down Billys chin, staining the fabric held to his face, only causing it to stick against his chin and mouth. With a wet shaky silent moan, Billy rubbed his tongue into the fabric, working the hand around his sensitive length even faster.

It wouldn’t surprise him if he gave himself carpet burn, or rubbed himself raw, with how much he jerked off to the sight of you, even just peeping on you at night or around the house, or listening to you talking to yourself or to someone on the phone. At least once a day, Billy was draining himself, going cross-eyed, tongue pressed between his teeth as he grunted and groaned, coating his hand in white.

Below him, you shuffled, causing Billy to freeze until you settled on your back, the blankets falling down enough to leave your naked chest uncovered and for Billys eyes to devour. Chewing at the fabric of the boxers, Billy found himself fantasizing about taking your chest into his mouth, to bite and suck and leave hickeys all over. To squeeze your chest together, to shove his cock into the grove it made, to cum all over your neck and face.

The fantasy had his thoughts swimming, feeling lightheaded. But maybe that was also from him suffocating himself with the now spit soaked boxers, making it difficult to breathe in and out. The mild asphyxiation and mental images of making you his was like a punch to the gut, weak spurts of cum shooting from his tip and coating your chest in thin stripes.

If he hadn’t gotten off at least twice before climbing on top of you, the load would have been much bigger and stronger, probably striking you across your peaceful sleeping face. With a whimper, Billy froze, fearing you would wake up to the foreign feeling. But when you didn’t, the giddy feeling inside Billys chest unfurled, arousal and need churning inside his body.

His length ached and was soft in his hands, but it didn’t stop Billy from starting to pull and twist at it again, forcing his body into painful overstimulation, vision going black for a second as he pushed his body to its limits. He wanted to coat you again, as many times as he could, he didn’t even care if you woke up anymore, he needed it.

[thinkinonsense]

omg i saw that you write for matt murdock! love himmm 😫🙌🏽 could you write a fic of him where he like comes home from a mission and we’re like tending his wounds and we’re super worried ? 🙏🏽

3:42 am

it was late. so late that matt didn't think you would even hear him knocking on your apartment door. he could hear your feet patter across the wooden floor before you unlock the door chain. a tiny gasp slips out when you see matt leaning against the door frame, bleeding out from his side.

"sorry to wake you, sweetheart." matt apologized meekly, clutching his left side.

"oh matty..." your quiet voice punctured his heart. he knew you didn't like this side of him. constantly having to stitch him up. "come in."

matt makes it onto your bedroom while you fetch your first aid kit and some towels. you've known each other a long time, well before matt was blind. he knew he could trust you to keep a secret.

you watch as he slips his shirt over his head. a large cut covers from the start of his ribcage all to almost his spine. it didn't look as deep as others he's had, but you could hear him grunting in pain not that far from you.

the two of you sat in silence while you worked on his side. matt could feel you fingers shake ever so slightly at you pierce through his skin.

"you alright?" he asks.

a tear rolls down you cheek as you stare down at his blood that covered your finger tips.

"this is the fifth time in two weeks that you've come over to have me take care of you." you sigh, wiping away your tears before continuing your stitching.

"i'm sorr-"

"don't apologize." you cut him off. "i'm just worried, that's all."

"don't worry about me." he smiles assuringly at you. "i'll be fine."

"you don't look fine, matthew." the harshness in your voice took him aback. "you look like you're at deaths door every time you come here. i'm worried every single night about you. don't you think that breaks my heart to see you like this?

matt knew it broke your heart but he had no one else to turn to. every time he had to come to your door it killed him. you didn't make it easy by always forgiving him.

"i don't mean to hurt you, sweetheart." he whispers.

"i know." you sigh, sitting the needle down.

he could hear you in the bathroom, rinsing yourself clean of his blood and chewing your cheek; trying not to let him hear you cry.

matt wasn't cruel. he couldn't let himself keep worrying you. when you returned from the bathroom with a towel in your hands, matt is struggling to get up and exist your bedroom.

"lay back down, matt."

"no, i should go home."

"i want you to stay, please."

maybe, he was cruel because he finds himself crawling back into your bed like a scared little kid. you sit the towel down and help him into your bed. the image of him under your purple sheets reminds you of childhood.

matt pulls you close until your head rests on his chest. he can hear your heartbreak begin to slow down back to normal again.

"i won't come to you anymore if you don't want me-"

"i'll always want you, matt."

there wasn't a doubt in your mind that you would always want him. matt wondered why god would allow an angel like you into his life. he didn't understand why you would keep taking him in like a stray cat. despite his flaws, you loved him and you would never close your door on him.

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

I’m not gonna lie… if there was a part to leave as my last one for a month… I’d choose this one. I hope y'all like it as much as I do! ❤️

Part 1 | . . . | Part 40 | Part 41 | Part 42

El watches the proceedings with wide eyes, and grips onto Steve’s hand the moment he’s close enough. “It’s time,” she says. She might be asking; she’s not quite sure.

Steve’s face falls. “Almost,” he agrees, pulling her into a hug. She goes gladly, tucking her face into his neck. “I think we’ve got one more day,” he murmurs, not letting go. “Are you up for some training today?”

She pulls back to look him in the eye. It’s the easiest way for her to make sure he’s telling the truth. “I will be stronger?”

“That’s the goal,” Steve nods. “I don’t know if it’ll work.”

El thinks about it, then nods. “I want to try.”

“M’kay. Have you eaten recently? Alli made some pretty great mac and cheese we can heat up, if you want it.”

El had mac and cheese before. It was cold, because she had to wait for Mike to bring it to her in the basement. The noodles were rubbery and the cheese didn’t taste good. She scrunches her nose, but Steve doesn’t look like he’s lying, so she relaxes her face and nods. “That would be good,” she tells him.

He smiles and ruffles the little bit of hair she has. “‘Course, El. I’m gonna heat this up, and while you eat, we can talk, okay?”

“Okay,” she answers, and watches as he puts some of the pasta into a bowl and sticks it into the microwave.

As it’s heating up, Steve turns to Eddie and Wayne. “Eddie, think you can bring him up to speed? We’ll be in the dining room if you have any questions.”

Eddie nods and waves his uncle out of the kitchen in the direction of the living room, already speaking faster than Eleven had thought possible.

When they’re both sitting at the table, her with a steaming bowl in front of her and a fork in hand, Steve starts talking. “First things first,” he says softly. “Eleven. That’s not your name; it was a number assigned to you.”

She perks up. “You know my name?”

Steve nods. “Jane.”

“Jane,” she tries out, then nods decisively. She likes it.

“So eleven. The number. That means there were at least ten others. We know Vecna, Henry Creel, is One. That leaves nine more.”

El shakes her head. She knows this. “They all died.”

Steve gives her a sad sort of smile. “Not all of them. You meet your sister, Kali. She’s number eight. She can make you believe you’re seeing something that isn’t there. She’s very powerful, and she taught you how she got that powerful.” He puts his fingertips together with his palms apart. It looks like a spider on a mirror, and El gets sidetracked for a moment by the image.

“What do you know about fairy tales?” Steve asks, and El blinks and chews the bite she’d just put in her mouth.

“They’re fake,” she eventually says. “Stories about things that never happened, that can’t ever happen.”

Steve smiles at her. “Yes, but there’s still lessons to be learned from them. Can I tell you my favorite version of a fairy tale called Sleeping Beauty?”

El perks up again. “I know that one! A witch curses the princess so she falls asleep forever until her true love finds her and kisses her.”

Steve nods. “That’s the most popular version,” he agrees, lips tilted up. “But that’s not my favorite.”

She tilts her head. “What is your favorite?”

He grins at her. “Once upon a time there was a princess. She was cursed, you got that right, but it wasn’t by a witch. It was by a fairy who hadn’t been invited to her first birthday, which is a very big deal when you’re a princess. So the fairy curses her to fall asleep—her and the rest of the kingdom—when she pricks her finger on a spinning wheel when she turns eighteen. Everything goes exactly as the fairy had said, and eighteen years after she casts the spell, the princess—Aurora—falls asleep, only to be woken by true love’s kiss. The fairy came to check on Aurora and found her sleeping, just as she’d planned. But something unexpected happened: the fairy felt compassion for her. She took to sitting by her bedside every day, waiting for the princess’s true love to appear. Finally one day she goes to leave and presses a kiss to Aurora’s forehead. Can you guess when happened?”

El frowns. “She woke up?”

“Exactly,” Steve nods. “She woke up because the fairy loved her. True love can come from anywhere. It doesn’t have to be romantic.” He takes one of El’s hands in his own and looks into her eyes. “Kali taught you to use your anger to get stronger. I want you to try to use love. It’s the one thing Henry Creel doesn’t have.”

El thinks about it. “I don’t have to kiss anyone.”

Steve chuckles. “No, you don’t have to kiss anyone. But you know me, right? You know Mike and Will and Dustin and Lucas. And you know Robin, Eddie, Nancy, and Jonathan, now, right?”

“Right,” El nods.

“And do you love any of us? Do you want us to stay safe?”

El thinks carefully about the question, then nods. “Like the fairy.”

Steve’s eyes crinkle as he grins at El. “Just like the fairy.”

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[void-ink-studios]

Rinse and Spit [Part 6] - A Mouthwashing AU

FINALLY, this chapter is written. Enjoy it y'all, there will be More Development next time.

The dynamics shift on the Tulpar as the crew carries on without a certain shadow. But where does Curly stand in these new dynamics?

And why can't he shake the feeling he's one mistake away from being next?

Content Warning:

PTSD episode is depicted

Word Count: 2,400

Anya had left after tending to his new injuries.  Curly almost found it funny that, by some cursed miracle, he could possibly get more hurt than he already was.

Presumably, she left to speak with Swansea and Daisuke.  That had been a long time ago.  He could hear, even through the heavy metal doors, that they were yelling.  Swansea raising his voice, Anya raising her voice, even Daisuke.

He knew what they were arguing about.

One Captain laid dead.  It was time to decide what happened to the other.

Curly had weighed in his head his chances.  Daisuke seemed to still like him, at the very least.  That’s one vote in his favor.  Swansea, on the other hand, didn’t seem like he’d spit on him if he was on fire.  That’s one vote against him.

That only left Anya.

Anya.  Who he utterly failed every chance he had to be a good leader for.  Who he abandoned to go save her attacker’s hide over protecting her.

He didn’t see the next few hours panning out well for him.

Take responsibility

So all he could do was wait.

And all the while, Jimmy was laying there.  A pool of blood had settled under his head and neck.  The entire room smelled metallic, with the stink of mouthwash mixing unpleasantly with it all.

It was at least easy for Curly to not look at him.  He’d learned to do that very well, not looking at Jimmy.

Instead, he could focus on what he was feeling.  The image of the scalpel so close to his eye burned into his mind.  The feeling of the saw’s teeth in his leg still radiated through his entire body.  The burn of vomit still sat sticky in his throat and mouth.

Maybe he should stop focusing on what he’s feeling.

He couldn’t look at the screen anymore.  He couldn’t listen to its buzzing anymore.

And yet, that’s all he could do.

That’s all he deserved to do.

When had this all gone so wrong?

Was Jimmy always a monster?  Curly didn’t know.  He knew that Anya and Jimmy’s relationship had started to fall apart, even before this hell of a voyage.  He had thought they were just arguing.

“There’s better nurses, you know.”

Jimmy played with the lighter in his hands, flicking it on and off, letting the lid make its little clicking sounds as he stared down at the floor.

“Excuse me,” Curly asked, looking up from the clipboard.  Jimmy had been silent for the entire inspection of the cockpit.  That was okay.  Curly had been doing this for years, he knew what to look for without his help.

“I’m just saying.  There’s gotta be better nurses working for Pony Express, right?  Ones who actually made it into medical school?  I mean, fuck, even school nurses need a degree, don’t they?  How come you don’t request one of those?”

Curly shrugged.  “I mean… It’s Pony.  I don’t think anyone with that much school debt is gonna be working in a dump like this, yeah?”

Curly tried to laugh.  Jimmy didn’t.  Curly clicked the pen uncomfortably.

“Plus, Pony offers medical school courses.  Don’t need a degree if they’re teaching you what you need themselves right?  That’s how you’re a pilot.”

Curly regretted it the second it left his mouth.

“Yeah.  I get it.  I owe it all to you.  Consider me fucking thankful.”

He didn’t look at Jimmy, but he could feel the glare burning into his head.  “...Sorry.  But, why bring this up anyway?  I like Anya.”

Jimmy didn’t respond, just huffed and leaned as far back as he could in his pilot’s seat.  Curly heard the click of the lighter, and Jimmy take a dragging breath.

“Seriously?”

“What?”

“You know there’s no smoking on Pony property.  I’ve told you that a million times now.  It’s my ass they chew for that, you know.”

“You and Pony can bite me.”

Curly sighed, running a hand down his face.

“Look.  I’m sorry for what I said.  My point was Pony gives people chances.  It gave you a chance, and you like being a pilot, right?  So, it’s fair Anya’s got a chance too.  And she’s a damn good nurse.”

Curly finally looked at Jimmy.  He was never really good at reading the man’s expressions.

“I guess.”  Jimmy finally cracked a little bit of a smile.  “I do like being in control for once in my life.”

Curly turned that memory over in his head a lot.  That had to have been a hint.  He should have pushed more.  Should have questioned it more.  It was so obvious.  A red flag he missed.  One of many…

Even lifeless, Curly could feel Jimmy’s gaze burning him.

At least Curly wasn’t alone anymore.

He finally brought himself to look at Jimmy.  The color had completely drained from his face.  His eyes were unseeing, staring at nothing, yet everything at the same time.

He didn’t know how long he sat there until the door opened again.

He couldn’t look.  He wondered how they’d do it.  The ax?  The gun?  Something else?  He didn’t know.  But maybe a selfish part of him is at least glad it’ll all be over soon.

I hope this hurts

“...You got lucky.”

That was Swansea.  There was a sound of a thud, and something dragging over the metal floor.  He finally turned his head to watch Swansea drag Jimmy’s body away.  The older man didn’t look the Captain in the eye.

“Very lucky.”

Curly watched as Swansea dragged the former pilot away, Anya entering soon after.  That’s odd… She already took care of his injuries, didn’t she?  She looked tired.  And sad.

Anya looked at him.  For a very long time.  He looked away.

“...Try to get some sleep, Captain.”

She reached behind Curly’s head, fluffing up the pillow a little before she took her old seat next to him.

Curly didn’t move.  He didn’t look at her.  He tried to breathe as quietly as possible.  Because… Well, if he moved, it might break whatever spell has come over the Med Bay.

Anya was back…

The days carried on like that.  Anya was back at his side.  She wasn’t as chatty with him as she was at the beginning but… She seemed at ease.

You know why.

She carried on with her duties.  She changed Curly’s bandages, cleaned him, and brought him more IV calories… Curly didn’t know how she’d managed that, he had zero faith that Pony would have packed something that helpful. She had something about that, long ago.  Something about how Swansea rigged the fabricator.

She even started chatting with him again.  Just a little bit.  But it was something.  Something to listen to that made Curly feel like he wasn’t just a pile of raw meat on the table.

She even became the one to give him his pain killers.

When she first approached him with a pill bottle, Curly hated how much he flinched.  Anya just looked at him, her eyes full of sadness and regret.

“It’s… It’s okay now, Captain.  I can manage this.”

She was far more gentle in giving him the pills than Jimmy was.  She sat him up, she eased his mouth open, she was careful and delicate with her fingers.  She even gave him a glass of water to help it down.

Curly trusted her.  He knew he shouldn’t, knew he didn’t deserve to feel at ease around her, but he did.  She very easily could have made this all more painful than it needed to be, and she’d have the right.

But she never did.

She set him back down as gently as she lifted him up.  Yet Curly still felt ghosts of hands on his neck.  Of fingers probing the back of his throat.  Of nails digging under his bandages.  He watched her for movement.  For signs of vengeance.

But nothing ever came of his watching.

She read her books quietly.  Listened to her music and smiled.  She laughed when Daisuke poked his head into the Med Bay.  She didn’t tense up whenever the door opened anymore.  She looked happier than even before the crash.

Take responsibility

He wished he could feel as at ease as she seemed to.  Curly heard the metal doors slide open, a familiar, gruff voice filling him with dread.

“Anya, please, take some time to rest.”

“Swansea-”  Curly could see Anya standing a bit behind him.  She looked worried.  She was wringing her hands together, her gaze flicking between the older man and the captain.

“I promise.  You know I’m good for it.”  Swansea had his back to Curly.  He wished he could see the expressions on his face.  Or, maybe it was better he didn’t.

She held eye contact with Curly for a very long time before she finally nodded.

“...Okay.”

The door closed again, Swansea taking a deep breath, before finally turning around.

The two men stared at each other for a long time.  Curly was certain he could hear his own heart beat picking up speed.

“...Anya needs sleep.  You need meds.  I’m filling in for her.”

Please no…

Curly watched as Swansea strolled over to the desk with the pain killers.  He looked at the bottle intensely.

“Paracetamol?  This shit is for fevers.  Joint aches.  You can’t be getting much from this, can you?”

Curly waited a few moments.  For what, he wasn’t sure.  Maybe for him to dump the few painkillers he had down the drain.  Or maybe for him to threaten him.

But it didn’t happen.

“Whatever helps, I guess.  That’s what Anya said.”

Swansea turned back around, a pill in his hand.  His expression looked generally bored.  Maybe annoyed.

I hope this hurts

Curly couldn’t help but start to shake.

Swansea hated him.  Granted, for a good reason.  But Swansea hated him, and was now approaching him with a pill.

“You’re real lucky Anya has a soft spot for you right now.”  He sighed, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his free hand.  “You got us into this fucking mess.  And now we’re taking care of you.  Isn’t it the Captain’s job to take care of the crew?”

I hope this hurts

Swansea was standing over Curly now.

Curly knew what Swansea looked like.  He’d been looking at that tired face for almost 8 years.  He knew what he looked like.  He knew his receding hairline, his full face and thick neck, his pot belly and stocky limbs.

So why did his hair suddenly look longer?  Why did his face and limbs suddenly look thinner?

“Whatever.”

Why did his eyes look so empty?

“I hope these make you fucking feel better.”

I hope this hurts

Jimmy was standing over him.  He was smiling his empty smile and standing over him, reaching towards him.  Of course.  Of course Anya killing him had to be a dream.  He couldn’t escape it that easily.

He couldn’t dodge responsibility that easily.

Take responsibility.

There were hands on him.  A voice talking to him.

No, no, please no…

He flailed his limbs.  It wouldn’t help, it never did, it only ever made things worse, but he had to do something.  He couldn’t go back to this nightmare.  No matter how much he deserved it.  No matter how much he knew Anya’s gentleness was too good for him.  He couldn’t go back.

“...urly!  Curly!  Stop!”

Suddenly he was being held.  Tightly.  A hug?  Anya?

He could smell something metallic, something like oil and sweat.

Swansea…

Curly froze in Swansea’s grip.  The man was hugging him.  Or maybe he was trying to hold him together.

“Are you done?”

Curly couldn’t see his face.  And he wasn’t about to lift his head to check.

“Stop fucking staring at me.”

He couldn’t place the tone in Swansea’s voice.  He wasn’t sure when he got so bad at reading people.  Then he felt the ghosts of hands on his throat.  Maybe he was never good at reading people.

The captain then realized he was asked a question.

Answer the question, you won’t be hit as hard.

Curly nodded, his body still slightly shaking.

Swansea’s grip gently released, an arm moving to support his back to keep him sitting up.  The engineer seemed to be feeling for something.  His fingers traced along his side, feeling his ribs through the hospital gown.

“Jesus…”

Curly didn’t know if he was meant to respond to him.  He usually had to guess with Jimmy, but he at least knew what to expect from Jimmy.

He didn’t know what Swansea would have in store.

Gently, although not as gently as Anya, Swansea tilted Curly’s head back and opened his mouth.  The captain couldn’t help but flinch again.

“Hey.  Curls.  Look at me.”

Curly shook his head.

“Can you look at me?”

Take responsibility

Curly slowly turned his eye to finally look at Swansea.  The man’s expression was harsh but… something seemed tempered.  Softer than before.  Frustrated, maybe conflicted.

“Look, I don’t know what he did to you.  Fucked up shit, probably, if you were freaking out that badly.  But I’m not him.  Yeah, I’m pissed at you.  But I’m not going to hurt you.”

Curly still didn’t move.  The two looked at each other for a long time.

“Can I give you your medicine now?  It’s probably not doing too much, but hey.  It’s something, right?”

The captain waited for Swansea to move.  Get angry.  Say something about how ungrateful he’s being.  To do… Something. 

“Gotta give me a nod, bub.”

Curly hesitated another moment before nodding.  Swansea sighed, nodding back.  He tilted the captain’s head back, gently feeding the pill down his throat, and helping it down with some water.  Swansea wasn’t as delicate as Anya.  But it was probably due more to his broad and callused fingers than… malice.

Swansea set him back down softly, making sure his head reached the pillow.

“Goodnight.  Get some sleep.  Daisuke’s been working on something for you.  Won’t tell me what it is, but says it’s going to be ‘super important.’  Whatever that means.  So… I guess be ready for that.”

Curly was only half listening.  A part of him was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.  For Swansea to say that one last thing to make sure he remembered his place in the pecking order.

But he didn’t.

“...Jimmy’s not here anymore.  You can relax a little.”

And he left.

Curly listened to the static buzz for a long time.  He felt tears stinging the side of his face long before he realized he was crying.

He swallowed the sobs down, even though it hurt his chest.  He clamped his mouth as closed as he could manage, until his teeth hurt.

He had only just gotten this small blessing of peace.

He was not going to ruin it by bothering them anymore.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The DUFF 15

Warnings: groping, insecurity, food and body issues, manipulation, and the usual. Proceed with caution.

Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for the wonderful responses so far. ♥♥♥♥

Image credit (I want to give dues where due but don’t want the creator to keep getting tagged in my posts as I have been approached by some before that they don’t want me in their notifs)

You sit down as you wait for your order to be called. The metal seat isn’t very comfortable, especially after hours in your office chair. You tuck your bag against the wall and stare out the window as Andy shrugs off his jacket.

He sits with the dark blue garment hung behind him, tugging at his tie but not loosening it. As you glance over, he flicks his fingers up to scratch the stubble along his neck. You rest your elbow on the table then drag it off. You don’t know what to do as the awkwardness of the situation settles in.

“So,” Andy breathes out as he claps his hands on his thighs. Is he nervous? No, why would he be nervous? You’re projecting. “Long weekend, you said?”

You smile, a click in your throat. “Um, yeah, I probably shouldn’t go into detail.”

“That bad?” He lifts a brow.

“Let’s just say next weekend, I’m going absolutely nowhere,” you sigh.

“Sounds like heaven. My wife, ex-wife, is coming back from vacation so she’ll be dropping off the kid,” he brings his hand up to the tabletop, rubbing his ring finger, as if searching for the missing gold, “not really a kid anymore. His teenage angst blows right in after him like a raincloud.”

“How old?” You wonder. You didn’t think Andy was that old, but you’re a bad judge of these things.

“Sixteen, for now. Can’t wait to leave for college next year. Honestly, I kind of feel the same,” he chuckles, “I probably sound like an ass when I say that.”

“I think you mean well,” you shrug, “you know, my dad wasn’t so nice about it.”

“No?” He furrows his brow.

“Uh, yeah, but let’s not get into all that. I’m starving and vulnerable,” you kid.

The bell rings and your number is called. Andy stops you from getting up and insists on grabbing the order himself. He comes back with a tray and doles out the tacos. You try not to be too eager and wait for him to fold one up first.

Your stomach growls in an echo of your mind. You’re thankful for the distraction of the meal, you’re not exactly a social maven. Further, he’s your boss and you’d hate to step on any lines, or over them.

You chow down on the grilled chicken chipotle. The spice is more than you expect and has you reaching for your Sprite. Andy hums in delight as you sip and glance out the window again. It’s dark out now. You’re going to be home late. Ugh, your whole routine is entirely lost.

“I was curious,” he begins between bites, “about this club you went to…”

“Uh, yeah, I dunno,” you say evasively, chewing your straw before stopping the anxious gesture. “It was my friend’s idea.”

“Ah, well, I’m trying to get back on the scene, you know? I tried a few dating apps and a bit too few man girls want to charge for just a chat…” he puts his hand up helplessly, “I’m out of touch, I think. In my day, you just met people face to face so I thought maybe, give it a try, but I don’t even know where to go.”

“Mmhmm,” you swallow, “well, I don’t think a club is really the place for that. It’s more so a hookup type place.”

“Hookup? Is that what happened?”

“Uh,” you shake your head, “maybe a book club? That might be somewhere to start.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t suggesting anything about you,” he backpedals, “I just… I don’t have much going on so I might be trying to fill that void vicariously.”

“Yeah, no, it’s fine,” you wipe your fingers, “I don’t really date. Not seriously. Well, I mean, I haven’t been actively looking. With work and everything–” The door jingles as you ramble, “I barely have enough time for m–”

A figure steps up beside your table. His sole squeaks loudly and you look up, shocked to find Curtis glaring back at you. You’re struck dumb as you can only sit there.

“So this is it? You’re ignoring me for this guy?” He barks, “Bunny, you could’ve just told me you’re a slut–”

“Woah, woah,” Andy stands, “what’s going on? Let’s cool off–”

“No, fuck you!” He grabs Andy’s plate and throws the tacos in his face, “I know who the fuck you are. You got a habit of fucking your employees, Andrew?”

“Curtis,” you get up and grab his arm before he can grab your boss, “Curtis, we’re just having dinner–”

“I’ve been texting you,” Curtis snarls as he turns on you, “all day and I can’t get one reply. Don’t lie to me.”

He latches onto your arm and you cry out. You don’t understand why he’s doing this. Or how he even knew you were here. He’s crazy!

“Let go of her,” Andy slides his arm between you and Curtis, bringing his hand down against Curtis’ wrist, “calm down.”

“Calm down,” Curtis sneers as Andy inserts himself between you and rabid man, “mind your own fucking business.”

“You’re scaring her,” Andy puts his hand on Curtis’ chest and tries to ease him away, “so come on, cool off. Like she said, there’s nothing going on–”

Curtis keeps a hold of you as you’re pulled against Andy. You whimper as you're almost pinned against the table.

“Nothing going on?!” Andy jolts as Curtis lets you go, grabbing Andy’s collar instead, “she’s mine, you understand? You’re just some desperate old man–”

“Get your hands off of me,” Andy’s timbre drops dangerously, “before I make you.”

“Hey, hey,” an employee comes out from behind the counter, “no fighting. Get out now or we’ll call the police.”

Curtis huffs as you cower behind Andy. You can’t see him but you can feel his anger. Andy brushes against you as Curtis releases him. Your boss keeps you shielded behind him as Curtis lets out a snarl.

“Whatever, I was just about to fucking leave,” he stomps to the door as you hide, clinging mindlessly to Andy’s shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Andy apologises to the employee, “we weren’t trying to cause a scene. We’ll just clean up and go.”

The worker says nothing and disappears behind the counter. You see Curtis’ shadow stalk off outside the window. Andy turns to you and puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Um, I think…” you’re voice quavers, “I don’t know.”

[qualityfunnyscenariosfire]

I Had a Nightmare

Gentle male pred x scared smaller prey

The sounds of the living room tv echoed through your apartment, your predator boyfriend sleepily staring at it as you snored in his arms. Curled up against him, you nuzzled into his soft chest just as your favorite tv show turned on, making him chuckle as you sunk a bit into his t-shirt.

Before you passed out from sleep exhaustion, he had been petting your cute little head all night to help destress from the day. Work and troublesome people for 8+ hours had took its tole on you, making you worn and pissed off at everything when the day ended. Now home, your hubby did what he does best and snuggled you. Getting relaxing kisses and massages as you unwinded, his larger hands doing most of the work as he whispered cute nothings into your ears.

He kept you snug against him as you slowly drifted off to a restless sleep, the only thing keeping him from joining you in slumberland was your obnixous snoring. It sounding like a cheese grater shreding a tuba while it was playing "Hot Cross Buns" backwards. He tried to block it out with TV noises but nothing worked.

You, on the other hand, was compketely unbothered as cute images in your dreams danced in your head. That is until the cuteness started to die as you began to shift in his arms. Whimpering and fidgeting came from you as the dream turned weird nightmare played in your head, alerting your pred as he slowly sat up and stared at you.

"Mmmmh....N-No! Please! I-I don't wanna die!" You whimper, tears dripping down your sleeping face as you suddenly kicked his soft tummy. Him stiffling a pain filled groan as he gently grasped your small shoulders. "AAAAAAHHH!" You scream, tears still flowing down your face as you tried to break fear.

The nightmare getting intense as you though that something was strangling you, spazing and shaking in your hubby's grasp. His deep voice of your pred caling out to you as he tries waking you up, shaking you as you struggled.

"A-Are you alright, little one?" He gently asked, kissing your forehead and gripping you firmly. His warm wet tiubge suddenly going across your face as yiur salty tears tasted sweet to him, using his saliva as a calming agent. It helping calm you down as its scent woke you.

"N-No! DON'T...oh....I..." You look at him, feeling his soft gaze let you relax once more as he stared at you intimately.

"You had a nightmare hun. Tell me about it." He reassured, settling you down on his large lap.

"it was...weird and scary. I thought somethung was trying to kill me." You explain, sighing a bit. "...it sounded like you...and acted like you too.."

I-I had a scary and weird nightmare. I-I though that I was going to be killed and chewed up/eaten alive b-by........." You look up at him in shock and got a little hesitant as you continued. "...........b-by...........b-by..........." "By who, dear? Spit it out, lil one." He say, rubbing your back. "You." You start to cry even more as you couldn't hold anything back. Your pred made a slight gap as he heard this. "Look at me." He says a bit sternly. You shakily look up at the pred, wiping the tears from your face hurriedly. He tilts your chin for you to fully look at him, his tounge slowly coming out of his mouth. "I would never hurt you." His deep yet gently voice says as he gently gives you licks of love. "I-I know. But my instincts and fears must've made me think the worse in my sleep." You say softly as he licks you gently. He nods and holds you against his soft belly, letting you lay down on it. "Well, I am going to eat you gently just to put you in my chamber for you to feel comfort and to show that no harm will come to you whenever I eat you." He gently says, nuzzling you all over. He makes soft purrs as he does so, just to add to his cuteness. You nod and shakily get ready, sitting on his soft gut. You felt his hands massage and caress you gently as your slowly lifted up to his lips. He gives you a quick kiss as his mouth opens up for you, giving you the view of his wet and dripping maw. You could feel his warm and gentle breathe all around as he slowly pushes you into his mouth, licking you all around. You moan softly as he slurps you halfway into him, your legs still sticking out. He tilt his head back and gulps you down slowly as his throat gently squishes you tightly as you slip down. He moans at your taste and does a second gulp, your legs following you down his throat. You land head and shoulders first into the fleshy and soft place as you slip even more down. The rest of your body soon follows as his gut welcomes you happyily. Your pred licks his lips at your taste and rubs his belly comfortably. "You okay in there? Hope it's not to tight?" He asks softly as his belly caresses you all around. "Mhm. It's pretty cozy and safe in here." You respond, nuzzling his belly walls gently. "Uuuurppp! That kinda tickles little one." He giggles softly, continuously rubbing his gut. He enjoyed eating you and wanted you to relax before you fall back asleep. You smile softy as the gurgles of his spacious gut echo in your ear as you're caressed all around. You purr softly and yawns. "Hehe...I'm getting sleepy against." You giggle as your eyes get droopy. "Rest now, little one." He purrs, rubbing his gut and lays down. His belly gently squishes you. You smile softly and drifts off, the sound of his heartbeat and belly gurgles act like a lullaby as you sleep.

[justmeinadaze]

Take It Out On Me Part 14 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: I am so in love with this version of them <3

Warnings: Daddy Steve/Sir Eddie and Sub Plus Size Reader and all that implies (I regret nothing!), SMUT, ANGST, and FLUFF!, Spanking, degrading, edging, throat grabbing, smacking, Reader talks to her parents about her love for them (her dad gets into a fight; only the aftermath is mentioned), Eddie and Steve both briefly talk about their parents and trauma (mentions of child abuse and abandonment), Reader is bullied in this one (called names like whore, fat, pig) but the guys make a stand for her. Word Count: 6638

Your mom rises from the booth she was waiting in to give you a hug after you entered the restaurant you were supposed to meet in for lunch that afternoon. 

Steve and Eddie were extremely apprehensive about letting you go alone but you were able to find a middle ground, asking them to drop you off and then pick you up in two hours. 

The conversation started off a bit awkward with casual small talk being exchanged about school and the prom you went to put together by the three people you loved the most. After you both cleared your plates, you mom finally found the courage to ask some questions. 

“Did you know them before hand?”

“Kind of. It was more I knew OF them. We didn’t really become friends till the end of junior year and then got together later after summer.”

“Are they good to you?”

“Of course, mama. No one’s ever treated me the way they do. I love them so much.”

“Th-that’s what I don’t understand, Y/N. How can you love two people? Something HAS to get into the way.”

You shake your head as you lean back in your seat. “I don’t know how to explain it. Trust me, I thought about it a lot. Whenever I think ‘how can I love two completely different men’ the first images that come to mind are Steve going with us to movies he hates but he knows I like them. Him dancing with me in Eddie’s bedroom to a song on the radio or buying me different body washes and perfumes just because he thinks I’d like them. I think about Eddie’s face when he took me my first concert and sang obnoxiously loud with me as the band played.”, you giggle. 

“I see him whining when I’m trying to help him study but he still intently listens to me, making sure I know he appreciates me helping him. They both hold me after I wake up from a nightmare and listen to me when I cry. They take care of me and do whatever they can to make me smile.”, you shrug. “I love them.”

She chews on the inside of her cheek as she absorbs your words. “Did I ever tell you the first time your dad met your grandfather, the night ended with him in jail?”

Your eyes widen as you shake your head making her laugh. 

“He was only there for a day but, yeah, my dad HATED him. He said your father was ‘a dirty hippie who would never come close to being good enough’ for his daughter. God, I was so embarrassed.”

“How did dad end up arrested?”

“I told my father that I loved Rob and no matter what we were going to get married. He got angry and tried shoving him out the door. When I went to follow, he tugged me back, and hurt my arm so…your dad came back swinging.”, she smiles as she shrugs. “Definitely proved he wasn’t a hippie.”

Her grin grows when you laugh hard at her story. 

“I’m sorry, honey. I can’t imagine how hard this has been on you.”

“Yeah…”, you sighed. “Mr. Harrington hasn’t made it easier.”

“What did Bill do?” You filled her in on the rumor he started and how it spread through the school. How it led to the boys getting into a fight for you and everything else that followed. “I’m going to kill that son of a bitch. He thinks he’s so high and mighty—”

“Mama!”, you giggle as you reach for her hand. “No. No killing. Honestly…it’s nice to hear you defend me…like you just did.”

“I know it doesn’t excuse what happened but the reason I didn’t before…I was just in shock…I didn’t…”

“No. I…it’s alright. I forgive you.” You look at your watch as your alarm beeps. “I should get going. The guys are picking me up.”

“May I walk you out?”

You beam at her as you nod. As soon as you both step outside, you’re met with Steve leaning on the driver’s side of his BMW with his arms folded as Eddie sits on the hood smoking a cigarette. 

“Charming.” She raises her eyebrow in their direction and they quickly scramble to attention making you smile. “Have you three found a place yet?”

“No ma’am. We went looking though near the campus. We thought that would be better so she could be near school while also being closer to Masie.”, Steve answered.

“Maze is staying at the dorms on campus.”, you explain when she glances your way before shifting her gaze towards Eddie. 

“I’m sorry my husband hurt you.”

The metalhead shrugs. “He didn’t hurt me. Would have hurt her though if he hit his intended target.”

Your mom looks away in shame. “I didn’t…He’s never…I never thought he would do something like that to you. We always said we would never hit our kids.” She sighs as you reach for her hand. 

“So did my father. It wasn’t so much ‘Hey honey. We’ll never hit our kids when we have them.’ But more ‘I know I beat the shit out him this time but I swear it will never happen again.’”

“Ed. It’s alright, bud.” Steve pats him on the back to calm him down. 

Without warning, your mother steps forward and grabs the metalhead’s chin firmly, forcing him to look at her. 

“Do you love my daughter?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

He tries to turn out of her grasp but she just grips him tighter. 

“Yes ma’am.”

“Would you ever hurt her the way Allen did with you?”

Fire filled his eyes at her question. 

“No. Ma’am.”, he growled.

She nods before releasing him from her hold and turns to face Steve. 

“Do you love my daughter?”

“More than anything…ma’am.”

“Calm down, Mr. Harrington. This isn’t a popularity contest.” 

As she quizzed him, you stepped to Eddie’s side and intertwined your fingers with his as you laid your head on his shoulder. 

“Would you ever cheat on her and hurt her the way Bill does with your mother?” His head cocks to the side in surprise. “Not a big secret, sweetheart, I’m afraid.”

“No ma’am.”

“With all due respect, Steven, out of the two of you I’m more worried about her with you. I have eyes and ears. I know how big shot Steve Harrington ran around Hawkins showing off with different girls on his arm.”

This time, it was his turn to get angry.

“I’m not like that anymore. She…Y/N, made me want to be better.”

Her eyes softened at his admission, even more so when she took a step back and saw how you were with Eddie. 

“Did she tell you about Christian?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Fucking asshole.”

Your mom laughs at the metalhead’s choice of words. “You’re not wrong. Hear me boys, if you ever hurt my child, I will do way worse than what I did when it came to Mr. Wexler. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”, they respond in unison. 

She smiles before coming over to give you a hug. “I’ll talk to you later, ok? And I’ll talk to your father.”

“I’m sorry about that.”, you say to them after she leaves. “You two alright?”

“Yeah…are you?” You nod and wrap your arms around Steve as he comes to stand in front of you. “Was that normal? That integration style hello?”

“Um, I don’t know to be honest. You’re the first guys I’ve dated to really meet my parents.”

***

“Where have you been?”, your dad asks as your mom walks in the door.

“I had lunch with Y/N.” He responds with a hm before turning back to face the tv. “Rob, I think you should talk to her. She…she really does care about them and they genuinely seem to have her best interest in mind.”

“Bev, this is the last time I’m saying this. No.”

You mother sighs as she begins heading for the bedroom. “Apparently Bill is telling the town our ‘whore daughter’ brainwashed his son to use him for his money and status. When Steve confronted him, he said he couldn’t ‘use her properly’ because she’s not good looking and has no connections in town.” 

She watches as his fist on the arm rest of the couch clenches.

#############

“Wow, this place is fucking amazing.”, Eddie murmurs under his breath.

“It really is.”, Steve agrees. “Can we afford it?”

“I think so. With all three of our incomes—”

“Oh my god! This place is beautiful and so close to the campus. It’s also not too far from the mall so you guys can sleep in before work.”, you smile as you sigh. “It’s perfect.”

It takes you a moment to realize that their faces don’t match yours. 

“It is perfect…right?”

Eddie returns your smile as he walks over to you to kiss your forehead. “Yeah, sweetheart. It is.”

“We don’t have to pick this one. I know there are some others we can try and—” His index finger cuts you off as he places it over your lips. 

“Do you like it?” You nod earnestly. “Well then, come on Harrington, I think we have some forms to fill out.”

***

“Yay! You three found an apartment.”, Masie claps as you beam at her from your side of the lunch table. “And you’ll be so close to. You’ll have to give me a tour after school some time before graduation next week.”

“Of course! And I found this place a couple of hours away, that has furniture for really cheap. It’s donated and it’s so nice. Eddie, can you reach in my bag and grab that brochure for that store for me?”

He gently nods as you and your friend keep talking while he digs in your backpack. A wadded piece of paper falls onto his lap and he quickly catches it, pausing as he takes a look. 

“My mom said she would help us move. I’m so excited—”

“The fuck is this?”

You all turn to look at the metalhead as he holds up the note in his hand.

“Oh, um, it’s nothing. You can throw that away.” As you reach over the table, he pulls his arm back, keeping it away from your grasp. 

“It’s nothing, huh? ‘Y/N Hawkins Fat Whore. Available for the right price. For recommendations see Freak Munson and Bitch Harrington. Fill out applications. Oh who are we kidding. She’ll have anyone. Just ask!’”

“Who the fuck gave you that?!”, Masie growled in anger.

“I don’t know…I found it in my locker.”, you answer in a small voice as your head fell. 

“When?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Bullshit.”, Steve grumbled.

When you finally found the courage to look their way, it was worse than you expected; they were fuming. You couldn’t tell if it was at you for not telling them or whoever left the note in your locker.

“How many times have you gotten something like this?”, Eddie asked.

You knew you were in trouble and didn’t see the point of hiding it anymore. Grabbing your bag, you pulled out a folder, flipping through papers till you found what you were looking for. You handed them to Steve who looked them over with his friend. 

“What’s it like fucking a freak? Does he summon the devil or draw symbols with pig’s blood?”

“I bet Harrington cums early every time. Too bad I don’t like fat chicks or I’d take care of you.”

“Ugly…disgusting…whore…slut…you should be ashamed…no wonder mommy and daddy don’t love you anymore.”

Steve’s jaw tightened; he recognized the handwriting. Abruptly, he rises from the table, gathering the papers in his hands as he heads straight for his old table, the popular kids table. Tommy is mid joke as the man slams the notes down with his palm startling everyone.

“Do you think you’re funny? Sliding these into her locker?”

“Steve, we have no idea—”

“You don’t even have the balls to say it to her face or mine. Don’t worry. I do. You leave her the fuck alone or I swear to God. I will make your lives hell and not just until graduation.”

“EVERYONE LISTEN UP!” Eddie climbed on to the popular kids table as he addressed the room. “That beautiful woman right there?”, he points to you. “She’s not our whore and we aren’t using her. We’re not Christian Wexler. We have no problem telling you assholes that Y/ N is ours. We love her and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you fuckers keep treating her like garbage. If Steve and I catch anyone sneaking these bullshit notes into her locker or making fun of her in any way we WILL have a problem!” 

He jumps back down onto the floor next to the other man and tears up the notes they left you. 

“Do you understand me?” Everyone looks down nodding their heads. “Oh, come on gang. Don’t get shy on me now. Wouldn’t want to summon the devil to come have a word with you.”

Their eyes widen as they verbally confirm his question before he tosses the torn up paper at Tommy. Both men come back to their seats and casually continue eating their food, heavily breathing as they try to calm down. 

“Munson…”, a male voice speaks his name as he slowly walks by your table. 

“Mr. C.”

“Problem?”

“No, sir. No problem here.”, he answers without looking his way. 

Your teacher nods before a little smile forms on his lips as he passes you by, lightly tapping your shoulder as he continues monitoring the room. 

It takes them awhile before they finally glance your way and notice you two smiling at them. 

“Calm down. You’re still in trouble.”, Eddie smirks as he tries to sound angry. 

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, well, we did.”, Steve huffs. 

Your grin grows as you slide your chair back and come around to sit on his lap. His arms immediately wrap around you as you circle yours around his neck. As you lean your forehead against his temple, he lets out a heavy exhale. 

“I love you.”, he mumbles.

“I love you to.”

###############

“Hey, baby. Wow, you guys picked a good spot here.”, your mom grins as she enters the apartment.”

“Right? I love it. I was afraid we’d have to settle for something small which is fine. I just thought Eddie deserved a bigger space after growing up in that small trailer. Steve doesn’t care either way. He says he always thought his dad’s house was too big. I think it’s just because he spent so much time alone.”

Her smile grows as she listens to you talk. The more you speak about them the more she sees your genuine care for them, allow her to understand a bit more about your relationship. 

“Jesus Christ!”, Eddie exclaims as both men stumble through the door carrying a couch. “And…by that I mean—”

“It’s ok, Mr. Munson. You don’t have to suck up to me.” You mom laughs before turning her attention back to you. “After tomorrow you’ll officially be a graduate. Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”, you giggle. “I’m just ready to leave those kids behind.”

A sudden knock startles everyone as your father slowly walks in. “This isn’t where you guys are putting the couch, right?”

Both boys turn to you, unsure of what to do. 

“Are you lost, Rob?”

You dad exhales as he playfully glares at your mom. “No, Bev. I just…I thought maybe…I don’t know…I’d see the place…It’s, uh, it’s nice.” As he pulls his hands out of his pockets to gesture around the area, you notice his knuckles are bleeding.

“Dad! Oh my god.” You don’t even think twice as you grab his arm and lead him over to the sink to wash his wound. Steve and Eddie exchange a glance before looking towards your mom who holds up her palm assuring them that everything is under control. “What happened? Steve, can you grab the stuff from the bathroom?”

He nods, disappearing and reappearing with things to take care of your father as you both sit at the table. Still not sure of how to proceed he and the metalhead sit across from you while your mom sits next to her husband on the end. 

“I, uh, went to talk to Harrington today. Not you…the other one.”, he follows as the boy looks at him confused. “Bev told me what he said at the bar and what you told her he said to Steven.” Your father shifts his gaze towards him before looking back down at his knuckles as you clean them with antiseptic. “Thank you…for trying to defend her.”

“I love her for her. I don’t care what she looks like or where she comes from.” Eddie lightly nods his head, agreeing with Steve’s words. 

“I went to his house and confronted him. Let’s just say he won’t be posing for any pictures anytime soon.” He chuckles but it fades as no one laughs along with him. While you wrap his cuts, he turns towards the other boy. “I’m sorry for hitting you.”

Eddie folds his arms over his chest. “Thanks but I’m not the one you should be apologizing to. That hit wasn’t meant for me.”

When he focused his attention back to you, your eyes were downcast as you placed your palms in your lap. Your father sighs as he leans back. 

“I AM sorry for…The whole situation was just…a lot. I don’t get it. I don’t think I ever will. When I met your mom, I knew I loved her. I couldn’t picture loving anyone else. How can you…I mean?”

“That’s how I feel about them. I…”, you shrug as you try to find the right words. “I can’t explain it. Since the first conversation we had, I knew there was something about them.”

 “I just…I had no idea. I never thought you would ever do something like this. Where’s the line, Y/N? I mean what else are you capable of?”

“She’s capable of anything.”, Eddie answers. “That shouldn’t scare you. You should be proud of her. She’s not afraid anymore. When we met her, she was so timid to the point that she would literally fold into herself so people would leave her alone. Look at her now. She got into college, her own place, she’s actually fucking smiling…sorry.”

Your mom smirks as he apologizes.

“Dad, I’m not…running around having a relationship with everyone. We aren’t going to add people to our dynamic. I love THEM. If we…we broke up…I wouldn’t go searching for two people to be with again. It’s not a preference. It just is.”

Your father nods as he leans back in his seat before his eyes meet yours briefly and he softly smiles. “So is it just the couch you guys got today or is there more?”

“Um, her bed is in the truck outside.”

“Well, come on, gentlemen. Let’s get the last of the stuff up here.”

##############

“Alright, freaks and weirdos of the class 1984, smile!” Steve holds up the polaroid and takes a picture before handing it back to Masie. You giggle as he obnoxiously shakes the image in his hand. 

“We are finally free and I am so excited!”, your best friend grins as she does a little dance. “How does it feel, Munson? You were almost held back.”

“Yeah, thanks to princess here, I made it by the skin of my fucking teeth.” Smiling you lean over and kiss his cheek. 

“I’m glad BOTH your parents decided to come, Y/N.”

“Me to.” You sneak a glance at Steve as his eyes shift down to the risers you four were sitting on. “I’m sorry yours didn’t.”

He flashes you a slanted smile, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to bring your closer to his side as he kisses the top of your head. “Even if they didn’t hate me right now, I don’t think they would have come. All this stuff is beneath him.”

“Well, I’m proud of you; both of you.” 

Eddie grabs your hand, bringing the back of it to his lips.

“Jesus Christ, Ed. Can’t you ever just look fucking normal for a picture for once?”, Steve asks after the polaroid finally displayed the image he took. 

“What are you talking about, Harrington? That is how I normally look.”

“Do you want to hang out tonight?”, you ask Masie as she hands the photo back to the boys. 

“I can’t tonight. I…have a date.”

“Ooo…with who?”

“None of your business, Munson.”, she answers playfully before whispering towards you. “I’ll tell you later.”

***

The three of you lay haphazardly on your bed in your apartment as you pass the joint Eddie rolled back and forth. Steve happily sighs from his spot on your stomach that he is using as a pillow while you absently run your fingers through his hair. Your own head is resting on the metalhead’s lap as he leans his back against the headboard. 

“We got you present, sweetheart.”

“You got me something? Aw, you guys didn’t have to. You graduated to.”

“Oh, trust me, honey. This is also a present for us.”, the other boy laughs as Eddie slides off the bed. After disappearing into the living room, he comes back with a box, and hands it to you. 

“Open it in the bathroom and put it on.”

You nod as you thank him, scurrying into the bathroom to do what he asked. Lifting the top off the lid on your present, you gasp at the silky, purple material you find within. As you raise it towards the light, you notice most of the lingerie garment is see-through except some purposely placed designs that block the area of your nipples. The matching panties conceal all the major bits but when you slide them on you notice they still display a lot of your ass. 

This is completely new territory for you and as you stare at yourself in the mirror you can’t help but feel a little self-conscious.

“Babe? Are you alright in there?”, Eddie asks. 

“Um, yeah…”

“Uh oh. Is that self-doubt I’m hearing?” A breathy giggle escapes your lips. They both know you to well. “Get your sexy ass out here.”

With one final sigh, you open the bathroom door and display the gift they had bought you. They had both been sitting on the edge of the mattress waiting for you, their eyes lighting up when the land on you and your body. 

“I-I’ve never worn anything like this before.”

“Well, we’ll definitely be buying more. God damn, Y/N.” Steve places his hand over his chest as he exhales heavily. “You look so fucking gorgeous.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”, you blush. 

Eddie grins as he beckons you with his finger to come closer, grabbing your hips and yanking you onto his lap with your back against his chest. His arms wrap around you as he leans his chin on your shoulder. 

“You do look stunning.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Mmm—so polite. I love it. Can you do me a favor, pretty girl?”

“Of course. Anything.”

The metalhead’s lips kiss your cheek before hovering outside the shell of your ear. “Can you touch yourself for us?”

“I-I-In front of you?”, you asked in a small voice that had both men trying to hide their groans. 

“Yes, sweetheart.” Gripping your hand, he sticks two of your fingers in his mouth, wetting them with his saliva. “Right here on Master’s lap. Take these two fingers and rub your clit for us.”

After moving the piece of silk covering your core, you do has he asks, moaning as you press slow circles against your nub.

“That’s our girl. Does that feel good?”

“Yes, Sir, it feels good.” 

“Fuck, princess, you drive us crazy.”, Eddie mewls. “Now, I want you to slide them into your tight little pussy for me and keep moving them as we talk to you, okay?”

“Mmm—yes, Sir.”

“How do you want it tonight, Y/N? Do you want Daddy and I to be nice and gentle?”

“Or…” Steve’s soothing voice shot straight to you core making you clench around your digits. “Do you want us to fuck you hard and rough like a whore? It’s been so long since we’ve done that.”

“Fuck.”, you whimper as you thrust your fingers at a much faster pace. “F-fuck me like you guys did—mmm—that first time w-we were together.”

They both laugh as Eddie’s palm glides up your skin from your wrists up to your throat, turning your face so his mouth is hovering over your own.

“We can do that. You have to make yourself cum first though, baby.” Your eyes flutter closed as you lean back against his chest. “You know, I think about the first time when I’m playing with myself to. I picture you flat on the desk with your mouth open for me; moaning around my dick while Steve fucked you.” Eddie licked his lips as he smiled. 

“Personally, I like to think about the first time I called you and you touched yourself just like this. Fuck, just hearing you moan about how you belong to us and how sore you were from us fucking you.” Steve’s fingers reached out to trace your skin along your thigh and you mewl at the contact.

You needed them now, pumping your fingers as fast as you could till you felt legs shake as the coil snapped. While you were panting against his cheek, Eddie gripped your wrist and held out your hand to the boy beside him who graciously ran his tongue over your messy digits, humming at the taste. 

A sly grin spread across your face as you get off the man’s lap and stand to face them. 

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”, Steve asked with a smile of his own. 

“I was just thinking that you guys got to ask me…maybe I should ask you…which version of me do you want? Do you want meek Y/N you fucked that first night or sassy, slightly bratty Y/N?”

You giggle when they glance at each other with a small smirk. You already know their answer before they say anything. Today was a good day and they didn’t exactly need you to fully obey right away. It had been a while since they needed to put you in your place and remind you who was in charge.

“Oooh, you guys are taking a little too long to answer.”, you sing as you make a playful thinking face. “Hm. Maybe I should go introduce myself to the neighbors in this gorgeous piece of lingerie. Maybe they can actually make a decision.” 

“Do it.”, Eddie challenges.

“Don’t think I won’t, Sir.” You slowly back up towards the living room and inch your way to the door. They get up to follow you and you bite your bottom lip as Steve glides a head of you to lean against the wall. 

“We’ll go on then.”, he gestures towards the door. “Here let me help you.” As he reaches for the knob, you quickly block it with your body. 

“Steve!” His eyes widen as his head tilts and you quickly cover your mouth.

“Oooh, baby. You just went all in, didn’t you?”, he muses as he slides behind you and wraps his arms around to your front. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know, honey, but we still have to punish you, right Ed?”

“You’re right, Steve.”

“Did we ever find handcuffs that won’t hurt our beautiful girl?”

“Not yet BUT I did read this thing in a book that offered some alternatives.” The air hits your back as Steve steps away and a little moan leaves your lips at the sound of Eddie taking off his belt. Leather wraps around your wrists and after a few moments you find yourself restricted. 

“How is that, sweetheart?”

“Why are you asking, Sir? You can hurt me tonight. I want you to be rough with me.”

Calloused fingers abruptly grip your chin and turn your head to face him. 

“It doesn’t matter why I’m fucking asking. If I ask you something, you answer. Now, how does that feel, little girl?”

“It feels fine.”

“Good.” He releases you from his hold and pushes your front half over the arm of the couch. “Jesus, I’m going to stop being nice and just call you demeaning names all night. You want to act like a bratty baby we can treat you like one.” Eddie’s hand comes down hard on your ass making you jump.

The sudden sound of vibration causes you to sit up to look behind you but the metalhead is prepared, shoving you again and slapping your behind. “Don’t move.”, he growls.

Long fingers move the silk panties covering your sex and you whimper when the wand finds you clit. They love that device, becoming almost giddy every time they use it. The reaction and moans it pulls from you tortures them as much as it does you but they can hold it together better than you can. 

“Yes…yes Daddy. Please.”

“Does that feel good, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy.” 

“Tell me when you’re about to cum.”

“I’m…I’m gonna…” Abruptly, he pulls the wand away and smacks your ass. “No, no. Please…”

“What? You said you wanted it like that first night.”, Eddie snickered as he placed his naked body on the couch in front of you. “You think we cared if you came? It was just an added bonus that you did. Plus you wanted to act like a brat. Do brats get to cum, Stevie?”

“No, Ed, they do not.” 

The metalhead watched with a gleam in his beautiful brown orbs as his friend pressed the device against your nub again, slowly building you up and then pulling it away before you could climax. It felt like it lasted forever as you panted and cried over Eddie’s lap. His hands brush over your hair, pulling it out of your face as he watched the frustration in your eyes. 

“Fuck, Y/N. You have no idea how much this turns me on. Sometimes even I forget that we control that pretty pussy of yours.”

“Munson, how can you forget something like that?”, Steve chided as he smacked your ass making you moan.

“No, no Harrington. Not the physical part, I mean obviously her cunt is ours. We own her but the fact that only we can make you moan like you are right now. That only we can allow you to cum…fuck… hearing you beg for it.” He bites his lip before leaning forward to capture your own. 

“Please…”

“Please what?”

“Please, Sir. I want to cum.”

“You want to cum?”

“Y-yes, Sir. Please.” 

Steve moves the wand again just as your about to, turning off the device and setting it aside as you whine. Eddie’s hand connects with your cheek at the sound. 

“Stop fucking pouting.”

“Hey Ed, you know what I was just thinking? You’ve never had her ass, have you?”

“Not yet, no.” He leans back till he’s flat on the couch. “May want to wet it a bit.”, he grins holding the base of his cock. Climbing up, you rest your body on your knees as you tilt forward and envelope him into your mouth.  

“Baby girl, come on. You can do better than that.” You gasp as Steve’s massive palm holds the back of your head and shoves you forward onto Eddie’s length making you gag and drool around him. 

“Fuck me.” He grunts as you choke before scoffing and tugging you off him by your throat. “What are you doing?! Are you still being a fucking brat?”

“N-no, Sir.”

“Then why are you sucking my dick like you’ve never done it before? A little slut like you should know how to do it properly by now!”

You whine as you bounce on your knees and he smacks you again.

“Color baby?”

“Green, Daddy.”

“She’s fine, Steve. She’s being a pain in the ass right now because we haven’t allowed her to cum yet.”

“Wasn’t that the first thing we did?”

“She doesn’t count that, do you, princess? These little fingers are just too small to make her cum as hard as we do.” Grabbing your throat again, he forces you to face him. “Now, suck my cock correctly or neither of us are going to make you feel good tonight. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

*SMACK* “Louder!”

“Yes, Sir, I understand!”

As soon as he releases you, you take him in your mouth again, this time flattening your tongue and bobbing your head with the same energy you know makes him moan. 

“See? Just like that, baby.”

Fingers move your hair to the side as Steve speaks to you with his low Daddy voice that has you clenching your thighs together. 

“It’s not just about pleasure, little miss. Remember, you need him as lubricated as possible so he doesn’t hurt you.” He grins as you push Eddie to the back of your throat, holding still for as long as you can before pulling your head off him and spitting salvia onto his tip. “See, Ed? Little girl just needs a guiding hand is all.”

“Uh huh.”, the metalhead smirks as he leans up and brings your lips to his before using his thumb to wipe the tears that were smeared under your eyes. “A guiding hand to the ass maybe.” He softly smiles as he jokingly spanks you. “Turn around.”

You do as he asks while he places some strategic pillows behind his head allowing him to sit up slightly. After guiding your back to his chest, he opens your legs and positions you just so before reaching down to grab his cock. 

“Can you hold yourself open for me, baby?” 

“I-I can’t.”

Eddie grunts in annoyance as he pushes you up slightly, yanking the belt from your wrists and throwing it to the ground. As soon as your free, you do what he asks and help guide him into your ass. 

“F-Fuck me.” 

Steve waits a few moments, allowing you both to get comfortable before climbing between your legs. Gliding his tip through your folds you shuttered as he grazed your clit. Your eyes rolled back and closed as he sheathed himself inside of you, your back collapsing against Eddie’s chest as you allowed them to take over. 

Each thrust was like a little taste of heaven. Eddie was right, they controlled your pleasure. No one could ever make you feel as good as they did. When you glanced up at Steve you noticed he was fighting to keep his eyes open. 

“Da-Daddy, are you okay?”

“Mmm—yeah. You just—fuck—you look so fucking beautiful. I don’t want to take my-my eyes off of you.”

You felt one of your legs drop flat against the metalhead’s as his hand came up to turn your face so he could kiss your lips. 

“So…so beautiful.”, he echoed his friend.

“I love you, Eddie.”, you panted against his lips. 

He heavily moaned as he wrapped both arms around you tightly and begin ramming his hips hard up into yours. 

“I love you to, Y/N. Cum, baby. Fucking cum hard on our cocks.”

Steve’s palm held on to your shoulder for leverage as he matched Eddie underneath you. You moaned and begged until the coil that they had been winding all night finally snapped and you cried as you came hard. 

“Yes! Good girl. Such a…good…girl.” With a few more rough thrusts, Steve warmed your insides with Eddie following shortly after. 

“Jesus Christ…that was amazing.” They carefully pulled out of you and the metalhead continued to hold you against his chest while the other boy went to grab some water. 

“I’m sorry I said you name.”

Eddie tilted his head so he could see your face better. “Sweetheart, hearing you tell me you love me whether it be Sir, Master, Eddie, or freak…”, he smiles when you giggle. “It’s the best thing in the world.”

“I’ve never thought you were a freak. Even before I knew you.”

Steve grabbed your wrist and slowly moved you onto the cushions so you both could sit up. After gulping down the water he brought you, you leaned on his shoulder, placing a kiss on his skin. 

“You really do look beautiful in this by the way.” He runs his fingers down the silky material.

“Thank you, Daddy. It’s actually surprisingly comfortable. May I ask you something?”

“Of course, but ask it in the shower because we need to clean you and believe it or not we can all fit in this tub.”

“Harrington, if we wanted to shower with me all you had to do was ask.” You laugh at Eddie’s joke as you grab his hand and tug him off the couch as you follow the other man to the bathroom. 

“What did you want to ask, honey?” 

A small smile paints your lips as you watch them try to figure out how to get you out of your outfit before finally just grabbing the bottom and pulling it over your head. 

“Does it bother you that your parents didn’t show up today?”

“No.”

“Not even your mom? She didn’t really have a reason to not—”

“Yes, she did. She does whatever my father tells her to.”, he snapped.

You nodded as you pushed your back into Eddie’s chest.

“Steve, she was just asking because she cares. It’s a little weird I know. Having a woman in our lives who actually gives a damn.”

He sighs as he guides you under the water. “No, not even my mom. Y/N, kind of like Munson here, my parents stopped parenting pretty early on. Honestly, I’m used to it by now. I know that sounds harsh but it’s true. I think it would have angered me if they had shown up like they helped me accomplish something.”

Your hands reach out to gently cup his face. “I just don’t want you to feel like…no one was proud of you.”

He softly smiles before kissing your forehead. “Thank you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“I know, baby. I know.”

“I would have liked for your dad to be there if only to see what her dad did to his face.”

The three of you laugh as the begin to clean your body. 

############

Eddie has his arm wrapped around your shoulder as you two watch an action movie on tv. 

“I could be a spy.”

“No, you couldn’t! Everything about you is so loud.”, you giggle. 

“Oh, come on! I can totally be suave like James Bond.”

“Yeah, you could.”

“You can be my Money Penny.”

Steve nonchalantly exits the bedroom and grabs a banana from the counter, leaning his back against it as he eats. The two of you continue to stare ahead but the man can still see the grins on your faces that you both are trying to hide. 

“Ok. Go ahead. I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”

“Are you ready for your first day, sailor?” Eddie’s toothy grin grows when you try to stifle your laugh. 

“Don’t listen to him, Daddy. I think you look sexy.”

“Yeah, I mean way those little blue shorts accentuate your knees, man.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”, Steve smirks as he throws away his peel and saunters over to you to give you a kiss before lightly pushing his friend’s head. “I’ll see you two later.”

“We definitely need to get you one of those.”, Eddie chuckles as the other man leaves and you playfully shove his chest.

#############

@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @eddiesguitarskills

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[astroboots]

omg im sorry you’re not feeling too well! i hope you heal fast! and also i’m glad your back! may i please request joel x f!reader, maybe a moment for joel realized the domestic moment between him and the love of his life? could be she’s making him dinner after him being out all day? he gets all flustered n shit and shows his affection to her? 🧚🏼‍♀️

What's in a Name?

Author's name: Thank you for the well wishes nonny that's so kind of you!!!! Sorry that this is a little bit different from what you requested. My concentration today is all over the place and this did its own thing.

Content: Pre-breakout Joel! Fluff, baby naming. This is not my normal repertoire for those who tune in regularly.

Astroboot’s Masterlist

"What about Jessica?"

The image of a shiny pearl teethed smile, framed by blonde curls, chewing her gum as she twirls her hair with her index finger flashes before his eyes as Joel is standing before the sink, elbows deep in dishwasher.

Jessica-- a girl he dated back in his high school, dumped him a week before prom and Joel ended up having to take his and Tommy's cousin to save face. Yeah... not Jessica.

Joel bites down on his jaw, resisting the urge to grind his teeth. If he keeps going at it at his molars are going to grind to dust in the near future, and he'll be damned if Tommy gets to gloat about the state of his teeth when he's barely in his mid twenties.

"No," he answers curtly, and he hands you the scrubbed plate that you gracefully accept and dry with the damp towel.

"Crystal?" you ask.

"Hell no."

You tuck away the plate into its rightful place in the cupboard, tip-toeing to reach the highest shelf and he reminds himself that he will have to call in Tommy to help adjust the shelf to lower them by a handful of inches so it'll easier for you to reach before you're too far along.

"What's wrong with Crystal?"

"That's a stripper's name. We're not naming our daughter that. A name is supposed to be aspirational, I don't want my daughter to aspire to be shaking her ass on a stage for cash."

You grumble and mutter something indecipherable under your breath that rhymes with seabass.

"Fine, what about Melody."

Joel sighs, he swears you're doing this on purpose. "No. Not Melody. Melody is my hoarder aunt who permanently smells like cat pee. That's not the name of my future daughter."

"You're being very difficult, Joel Miller." You huff, turning away from him and back to the counter. He watches you from the corner of your eye as you flip through a book, nose scrunching up as your eyes flit over the the page in scrutiny.

You hum considerately, and flip another page, finger dragging down the page before you finally stop and tap the paper. "Oh," you say matter-of-factly, "what about Sarah?".

Joel wants to laugh. Has to bite down the grin that's starting to curve on his lip. You think you're so slick. You think he hasn't seen the name scribbled down in notebooks left open on the kitchen table. That he hasn't spotted even from this distance that it's the only name that you had circled in with think pencil in the name book. That he doesn't know from the very start that this had been your first and only choice for the name, and he plays dumb to the fact that all these other questionable names were thrown at him as decoy to tactically position your actual choice as the most reasonable and optimal option.

He drags his eyes over your form. The way you're trying to stand still and not give your excitement away. The way your shoulders practically vibrate with eagerness. The way your eyes are glittering in the dim amber light of the kitchen. Your fingers still resting on the page of the book, your little finger curling around the edge of the hardcover. The same finger you've got him wrapped around and do your every bidding, even if he pretends otherwise.

Pulling his arms from the water, he flicks off the water before he grabs a towel to dry his hands. "Hmmm." He tips his head, feigning complete ignorance. "What does the name mean?"

"It's from the bible. Means princess. That's beautiful isn't it? No exes, no strippers, no crazy cat aunts. What do you say?"

You put down the book, smiling brightly at him, clearly knowing what his answer is going to be already.

He's not even going to point out how you've completely given yourself away by mentioning that you knew Jessica is an ex without him telling you so. Because yeah, you got him entirely, wrapped around your little finger.

"Sure honey. Sarah sounds good."

Request a Joel Miller Mini Drabble

Follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications for when I post something new!

[mandrakebrew]

Whumptober Day 31: Asking For Help

Pairing: Sh.ishido x Palmer Words: 502 Rating: G Content Warning: oc x canon

Masterpost 🦁 Whumptober Post

Summary: Sh.ishido wakes from a nightmare and can't fall back asleep.

Shishido only managed a few hours of sleep before he awoke from a nightmare. Shaking and covered in sweat. He was alone, in a hallway on a couch in Yamai’s hideout. Palmer, his ex, had managed to get him away from The Daidoji and away from Nishitani.

How embarrassing, them of all people, helping him.

Head in his hands, he sat on the couch, trying to collect himself. Calm down enough so he could get some sleep. Images and sounds from his dream spinning around in his mind.

“Can’t sleep?”

He looks up from his hands, and sees Palmer. He sees their eyebrows raise ever so slightly when he does. Whatever they’re thinking, they don’t voice it.

“Nah,” he answers. He folds his hands together, to try to get them to stop shaking.

Palmer doesn’t respond right away.

Eventually though, they speak. “I was just heading to get some water, I’ll leave you be.”

Shishido watches as they walk past him and down the hallway a bit. “Hey, wait,” He says.

They turn, and wait for him to continue.

“Can we… Talk for a bit?”

Palmer’s brow furrows, but they walk back over and sit beside him. “What’s up?”

Maybe it was the nightmare, maybe it was the fact he hadn’t been getting much sleep in general lately, or maybe his most recent time as a slave wore him down, but he broke. “I just need to talk for a little while.”

“Are you okay? I’ve never seen you like this.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a reason for that.”

They don’t respond to that. Instead, they’re silent for a moment before they say, “I got to see a guy get eaten by a shark in Hawaii.”

He gawks at that. “Seriously?”

“Yup. He was trying to kill us while we trying to get back to Japan. He tried speeding away on a jet ski but the shark fucking launched up and got him.”

“Damn.” He laughed a little at that.

Shishido listened to them talk for a while, they were good at coming up with random stories and things to infodump about. It reminds him of how things used to be. He remembers how they slowly opened up to him, letting the persona they inherited from their mentor, Majima, fall. They weren’t a violence loving thrill seeker. Instead, they were a dork who enjoyed video games and other nerdy stuff.

He also remembers that he never let them see who he really was.

Eventually, he let out a yawn.

“Feeling better?” Palmer asked.

He nodded, he did, in fact. His mind was no longer spiraling, and laying down was starting to have an appeal again.

“Okay, well I should get my water and head to bed myself. Goodnight, Kosei.”

“Night.”

Palmer got up, but stopped in front of him, “Hey, let me know if you need anything else. Alright?”

He turned away from them, not answering. As he listened to Palmer walk away down the hall, he laid down on the couch again.

Taglist:

@cybotgalactica @devilzfruit @tulaytullahs @alice-nineteenth @hexusproductions @deregirls @frozenhi-chews

[pastriibunz]

A GIRL, A GHOST, AND A GENERAL - EPISODE THREE: LESSONS IN BEING HUMAN

McNamara and Max, with their combined years of experience, try to teach Kai how to be human (a concept that, apparently, Kai doesn’t believe in).

Kai was a confusing creature.

She spoke more formally than any 17 year old McNamara and Max ever knew.

She was smart, clearly. A bright kid.

But she was clueless.

“So, wait, you guys willingly get into metal death traps, with other metal death traps speeding down what’s practically a lawless barren landscape?!” Kai questioned, terrified.

McNamara nodded. “That’s driving.”

“It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be.” Max said.

“HOW ARE YOU ALIVE?!” Kai shouted.

Max laughed. “You have no clue how life works, huh?”

Kai shakes her head. McNamara sighs. “I’ve tried to explain life as one of us to her on multiple occasions, but…it doesn’t go well.”

Max shrugged. “Well, why not try again! I mean, I’m here, I’m like, updated course material.”

McNamara blinks, considering it. Kai perks up. “Ooh, are we gonna play school?”

Max looks towards McNamara. “I dunno, are we?”

McNamara thinks for a moment more before nodding. “Why not, sure.”

Kai squeals excitedly and Max cheers, as McNamara wonders how good of an idea this was.

“Welcome to your lesson on how to be a functioning human being!” Max said with a grin as he scribbled ‘How 2 b human’ onto the chalkboard in the middle of the room. 

Kai grins and claps. “I can’t read that!”

“Your handwriting is completely illegible.” McNamara says.

Max shrugs. “Eh, doesn’t matter. My name is Professor Maxwell-”

“You’re having too much fun with this.” McNamara interjects.

Max shushes McNamara. “Sh-sh-sh-shaddup. It’s keeping her engaged and not yapping about how humans aren’t real.”

Kai nods. “It is!”

McNamara sighs. “Carry on then.”

Max grins. “So, the first thing on the chopping block is our social lives.”

“Uwaoooh!” Kai says in awe.

Max doodles a crappy image of a traditional three person family. “So, in a traditional human family, there’s a mom-”

Kai corrects him. “Mama.”

Max nods. “Mama, and a dad-”

Kai corrects him again. “Papa.”

“Papa. A mama, a papa, and a kid.” Max finishes. “But, the cool thing is that every mama and papa started out as a kid with their own mama and papa!”

“But, as far as I know, my papas just spawned in.” Kai says.

“That’s because your family is weird.” Max says matter of factly.

“Oh okay.” Kai shrugs it off quickly.

“Anyways, there’s also other family dynamics, like sometimes there’s multiple kids, only one mama or papa, or maybe two mamas, or two papas.” Max says, drawing out the different dynamics.

“If there can be two papas, why can’t I have four- or five- papas and sometimes one mama?” Kai asks.

“‘Cause your family is weird. One, one of your papas changes between mama and papa almost daily, two, all your papas are brothers, three, it’s just weird.” Max says.

Kai nods. “Gotcha.” 

“And then there’s friends.” Max drew out himself and two other boys. “Back in Hatchetfield, I had two friends: Kyle and Jason. They’re cool. Anyways, friendship looks different for everyone. Sometimes it’s being assholes to each other, sometimes it’s talking for a long time, or sometimes it’s sitting quietly together.”

Kai raises her hand and shakes it around. “Can it be giving big ol’ hugs and maybe a smooch every so often?”

“You’re so weird, man.” Max says, chuckling. “But, yeah, if you really want that. Don’t do that to me, though.”

Kai nods. Max continues. “Also, there’s these things called social cues. You clearly have no idea what they are-”

“Uncle Mac! He’s bullying me!” Kai whines. 

McNamara shrugs. “It’s true, though.”

“I know! I’m offended because he’s right!” Kai says.

Max cackles. “Anyways, they’re things that almost every person understands.”

Max starts to doodle out certain social situations as he talks. “Like, don’t touch people without permission, give people personal space, don’t talk over people, don’t talk for too long, wipe your face, chew with your mouth closed, don’t say things that could hurt people’s feelings, sit up straight-”

“Too many!” Kai shouts.

“That’s just surface level stuff!” Max says.

She groans, flopping onto her back. “You guys are confusing. I don’t wanna be a human.”

McNamara sits down next to her. “Most of us don’t. Most of us are confused by ourselves.”

“And then there are people like me who totally get it and make fun of the people who don’t.” Max said with a shit eating grin. 

Kai glares. “You’re an asshole.”

Max burst out laughing, and McNamara immediately covered Kai’s mouth. “Don’t say that around your papas.”

Max roared with laughter as Kai looked confused. “Why?”

“It’s not a nice word.” McNamara said.

“KAI, SAY ‘FUCK’!!!” Max said in between cackles.

Kai starts. “Fu-!” McNamara clamps a hand over Kai’s mouth.

“Max, you ought to stop teaching her swear words.”

“Why?! It’s hilarious!”

“It’s gonna get you killed. Again.”

“Eh, worth it.”

Kai giggles and pulls McNamara’s hand off her mouth. “You guys are confusing. But I like it.”

“I like you guys.” She says with a smile.

Max smiles back and hooks an arm around McNamara’s shoulder. “We like you too, Kai.”

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Changes

Words: 4030

Summary: Steve Harrington has always dreamt about running away from Hawkins and his parents. Ever sense he could form his own thoughts, he has always wanted to travel the world in a beat up van with those he loved. Yet obvious circumstances stop him from leaving. Instead of being on a beach somewhere he is stuck in Hawkins, Indiana waiting for the world to end at any time. He loves all of his friends, but he has been missing a piece of himself for a long time. After taking the first steps of self discovery and putting down the crown, he realizes that he’s barely touched the surface of who Steve Harrington really is. Even if it means running away from home last minute, taking chances and using the flimsy excuse of a family emergency to get away from his friends for a while, he’s willing to do what it takes to make himself feel whole again. Make those thoughts finally disappear and maybe be more then what others has set his image to be.

Part : 1/?

Ao3 link

Note: I have the next few chapters planned out, but I don’t think this will be a terribly long fic. Five chapters is most likely max. But who knows I might like writing this so much that I add a few more. I just didn’t want to rush the process and not have Steve returning to Hawkins different hit the way I wanted it 😭

Steve runs a hand through his hair, water droplets falling down his forehead and down his nose. Watching each one move down his freckles through the reflection of the mirror. It wasn't uncommon for Steve to sleep in, honestly it was very common for him to sleep until nine am at the latest. Lately though, his body has been craving for a lot more sleep then what he can offer it. Flapping his hands a bit, spraying water around the small little bathroom of the diner moves himself out of the cramped space. Giving a tight smile to a older male that pushes his way through before he's heading back to his table. Moving, wiping his hands off his pants a little, fidgeting a bit before he plops himself into his designated spot next to Robin. Who was currently rambling about something, hands flying in the air as she leaned forward at the table in a chaotic manner. Matching Eddie, who was nearly standing on the opposite side of the booth from excitement. Steve isn't sure what part of the conversation he catches them in as his brain goes foggy again. The splash of cold water not grounding him into reality like normal. The feeling was annoying, and instead of catching either of his friends attentions he moves to start eating his food. Zoned out a bit as he planned out his day in a way that he could get a nap in. Maybe he was coming down with something?

For the last couple of months? Yeah no fucking way dude. There was something wrong with him and he wasn't sure what. Though he was physically good in health, maybe cutting back the amount of time going to gym was making him feel so ill. But that also didn't make any sense, he still felt the same icky feeling going to the gym, one of the reasons why he stopped going more then twice a week. He's chewing carefully on a strawberry when Robin playfully shoved him with a soft smile. Not showing concern, but looking curiously at him. Steve furrows his eyebrows as he swallows the fruit in his mouth. Letting a soft hum out, "Hm?" Licking his lips shortly after as he turns his head to glance over at Eddie who's properly kneeling on the booth seat, head cocked to the side a little bit. Trying to read him almost.

"Do you want the rest of my pancakes?" She asks gently. A common ritual between the two friends. Her eyes would be bigger then her stomach which left Steve swooping in and finishing what was left. He needed the calories anyway, constantly burning a decent amount on his morning jogs and in the gym. Though with the cut back of exercise he wasn't feeling all that hungry. That was the excuse he came up with as he shakes his head no, carefully licking some whip cream off from the top of his mouth.

"Nah, I'm find Robs." He responds with a hum. Watching the way she stops mid movement, holding the plate in her hand as if she was already on her way in moving it to put on Steve's. He chuckles gently, raising his eyebrow at how awkward she looks. Startled as well as she jokingly moves a hand forward and touches Steve's forward with the back of her palm.

"You feeling okay Dingus?" She asks softly. Not holding the plate for much longer as Eddie moves quickly scooping it from her hand. She doesn't bother looking over at the table, where Eddie was currently shoveling the food in as if he hadn't eaten a hamburger, a full plate of fries, and a strawberry milkshake with chocolate syrup mixed in a little bit. Steve had thought once the other wasn't on the run any more he would stop shoveling food into his face so fast that he nearly hit some of his fingers off. That, did not seem to be the case.

"Yeah, just started cutting back on how much I go to the gym." He admits, "so I'm not as hungry." He says softly. Watching Robin relax, the softness in her eyes grounding him better then the water in the bathroom. Her eyes crinkling a bit as she playfully pokes him lightly in the stomach.

"See, I told you so. Lady's dig the dad bods dude." She teases playfully. Causing Steve to laugh gently, shaking his head amused as Eddie starts to choke on a piece of fruit. Coughing a bit as he pulls back from hovering over the plate, any closer and his nose would have been touching the glass.

The day goes the same, for the most part. Steve drives to his shift at Family Video, sharing it with Robin like normal. Watches the neighborhood kids come in and leave after inspecting the shelf that held a , "new movies" sign above it with a life sized cut out of David Hasselhoff leaning against kit the talking car. It was a couple of years old, but it worked fine with getting the younger boys excited about the car. More desirable then having to move a life sized cut out of a girl in a bikini away from a drooler. He's fiddling a random rhythm on the counter as he tries figuring out what he has to do. Feeling a tad forgetful lately he frowns as he moves crouching down as he picks up a lollipop stick off the rug. Probably Robins wrong doing, scrunching his nose from disgust as he moves it likes it's the plague, to a trash can. Hearing the bell of the front door going off, following along with a very pissed off Dustin. Steve's lost as he swings himself over with the rolling chair.

"This is such bullshit Steve!"  Spit goes flying everywhere as Dustin has no control over his lisp. Voice Loud enough that it echos through the store catching Robins attention. Who had been opening new boxes of tapes. Behind Dustin is Max who looks agitated, Will Byers who looks confused and wants nothing to do with this conflict along with Mike Wheeler who's face is a light pink and looks like he's done something. What, Steve isn't sure. If they didn't all look like they were in one of the most serious situations in their life's Steve may have snorted and cracked a small comment to Dustin about "saying it not spraying it."  However the saying went.

"What is Henderson?" Steve asks slowly. Furrowing his eyebrows tiredly as he tries to catch onto what the other was talking about. He hadn't forgotten anything had he. But even if he had Dustin would not be this pissed. Mistakes happened, and most times Dustin made sure to ride his bike everywhere.

"You're parents!" Dustin spits out again. Steve's lost again, he hasn't heard anything from his Mother and Father in a couple of weeks. Doing god knows what in god knows where.

"What about my parents?" He asks confused. Moving his arms a bit as he looks concerned as well.

"Hellfire Club, or any club that doesn't fit a Christian like bubble can not and will not be allowed at Hawkins high because someone's parents refuse to donate money to the school if it's not a preppy Christian love nest!" Dustin says upset. And oh, that makes sense.

"But- I thought hellfire was banned already?" He asks confused.

"It was! But you don't understand, the only clubs that are allowed are all sport oriented." Dustin snaps.

"Ok—" Steve drawls out. "You can't create you're own—" before he can finish Dustin's snapping again.

"This is bullshit! Of course you would side with your parents, and here I thought you were on my side!" Dustin in clearly upset as he slams his hand on the counter. Normally Steve would be able to handle a out break like this, he understood he used to be a moody teenage boy himself. For the most part Dustin wasn't all the angry. He stands up startled, eyes glancing over at Max who says softly. Almost as if she was shy, moving her body around as she keeps her arms crossed around her self.

"They cut robotics club-" and oh. That made sense why Dustin was so pissed. He had been so close to creating a device where no matter how far away you were, it would use some form of connection to connect to another device. The purpose was to be able to tap on it, like Morse code almost. Which he somehow knew, along with his girlfriend Susie who would definitely appreciate the more private way of communicating instead of having a sibling eavesdropping. Though knowing this Steve was also a bit upset.

"Too far Henderson-" he says calmly, trying to get rid of the agitated part of his tone. Watching the way Henderson's shoulders deflate under the words. Meeting his eyes a bit. That mutual agreement they had months ago coming through, not once has Steve ever had to say to far to Dustin about something. Normally it was Steve who took the jokes to far sometime. Used to tough jocks his age who made fun of stuff like that, not a small teen boy who was obviously going to have some insecurities. "First off, I don't agree with my parents. Honestly, I didn't even know they were doing that. Haven't spoken to them in weeks, with the 'earth quakes' my phone line has been down, and I just got it fixed a few days ago. Plus, it’s not like my parents ask me for permission to do anything before they do it!" he rambles out. Most days he doesn’t even touch his phone, it was always through the radio that he contacted the group by.

"Second, I am sorry about your club. I'm sure that you brainiacs will figure out a way to steal the parts back and finish it up by yourselves. You've got a lot of it done. Third, no I am not on your side dude. I'm on all of your guys. Which includes the others not just you Henderson." Steve says waving his right hand loosely, leaving the other on his hip. Cocking said hip off to the side a little bit, his nose flaring a little as he hears Robin moving around in the back. His head was starting to kill him from all of the commotion, as he moves forward grumbling under his breathe as he pulls a ibuprofen out. Popping it in his mouth before swallowing and then sassily waving his hands for the kids to get out.

"Now scadadle. Start coming up with ideas for your own clubs, I'm sure you can create your own. Don't need money to just hang out with each other. Plus, I expect you to figure out a way in stealing what you started to  create Henderson." Steve says with a playful huff. Dustin his moving back a little as he nods his head eagerly. Much more calmer then what he been earlier. Now he looked like he had a part of a plan formed in his head as he playfully bounces up and down walking backwards out of the store with the other goons following shortly behind as their voices start to mix and go over each other as ideas started to form.

"You okay Steve?" Robin asks curiously. Moving over to him, slightly hovering over him as he sits down on the chair. He looks up with a soft smile, feeling her hand laying on his shoulder where his neck met his shoulder. He moves his own hand placing it on top of her tinier in a comforting manner. As if he wasn't the one who needed it.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He smiles dimly, watching his friend relax before patting his shoulder absent mindlessly then walking away to go finish what she had started.

Thing is, Steve has always randomly gotten the urge to pack up and leave. Leave everything behind, start over, become someone new - someone that wasn't Steve Harrington. Son of two rich assholes who didn't have any real touch to reality. Become something more, be something more then the image his parents have created, no spray painted all over this town. Of course he's used to it but the thoughts are particularly hard to shut up tonight.

Has Steve really not changed at all?

Is he still like his parents?

What if everyone around him was better off without him?

Now, the last thought was a bit shocking. Steve wasn't suicidal, he just wanted to curl up somewhere and disappear for a while. He didn't want to die, but he didn't want to be living in a sense. He was exhausted, feeling his bones ache to just lay in bed for a while. Though he was tired, he couldn't fall asleep. It was the most annoying thing he's ever felt. He rubs a hand through his hair, runs a hand down his face. Sitting up when the reality of the situation hits him. He can start over, he can leave Hawkins behind, he can go off and start off fresh. The excitement fills every part of his body as he throws himself out of his bed, looking around the room as he realizes he can make his own room. Have something that was his own, just as long as he got out of this town. Just as fast as he makes the decision to leave, he is quick to shut it down. Running a hand through his hair. Stressed out by the thought of even leaving Robin and the kids behind.

Deflated of all hope he moves curling back into his bed. Deciding he would much rather live in misery, then conflict any hurt feelings on his friends. His rambling thoughts are non stop as he stays curled up, now on top of the comforter. Feeling the sun beaming through his window as he turns on his shoulder getting more excited about getting up and seeing Robin. Though slightly agitated that he had just spent the last eight hours laying in bed doing nothing. Hopping off the bed he moves, pulling his sweats off, then his shirt before scratching at the slight happy trail he had that connected to even more hair hidden behind his boxers. Moving his body at weird angles as he starts to get changed, tracing his v-line as he looks at the mirror. Slight scaring placed underneath his finger tips before he pushes himself out of his room, heading to the diner to meet Robin and Eddie for breakfast.

And today feels like yesterday, then feel the same as tomorrow. As he sat down next to Robin he felt like everything was moving around him so fast. Robin and Eddie’s voices drowning out in the back of his head. Eyes glossed over with exhaustion as he looks around the diner. Eyes stopping at the newspaper that had been pinned up on a board near the kitchen. Swallowing a bite of food he leaves his eyes trained there. Looking at the image of a town further away, that seemed to somehow be smaller then Hawkins. That seemed nice, Hawkins was pretty big for a rural town. In his head Steve realizes he’s daydreaming about leaving. About just disappearing, imagining everyone’s reactions. Knowing that not many people would care. Most likely only Robin and Dustin would be the only ones to notice his absence.

The slight shove against his side and his attention is back on Robin who’s not asking this time as she forces the last of her pancakes on his plate. Leaving a bit more for him then what she normally would, as if she was trying to make up for the day before. Steve smiles tiredly as he starts to eat. Staying silent as he glances over at Eddie. Who was a little disheveled this morning. Hair a mess, bags under his eyes as he rambles his thoughts out as well. Robin seemed a bit more tired then normal as well. “What’s got you two so tired?” He teases. Knowing his excuse, but it was rare for Robin and Eddie to have sleepless nights on the same night. It was more common for one to come in like a zombie and the other to be beaming until their roles were reversed. Steve would be the consistent one, always getting enough sleep. On occasion though he had his moments, like today.

“Oh, Eddie decided he wanted to throw a long ass session yesterday. Argyle, Jonathan, and I were all up until three am dealing with his bullshit.” Robin laughs gently. Steve looks amused, though his chest ached. Logically he knows he wouldn’t have been playing with them, but it still stung that he hadn’t been there when they were playing. He wouldn’t mind watching. And typically before every session he was invited to join anyway, to watch which he gladly accepted. Though there is no comment said about him not being invited, as if it was just common knowledge that he wasn’t accepted in the group.

“Oh?” He chuckles gently, running a hand through his hair as he lets the topic die. Letting Eddie take over, talking about some movie that was coming out. His brain wandering, not finishing his food as he steps out of the booth when it’s finally time to leave. Normally the minutes went by super fast, and he didn’t want to go. Today, he was bored out of his mind and couldn’t wait to head back home. Not having a shift today, maybe he could get a quick nap in. Waving at Robin, who would catch a ride with Eddie who would be passing the family video on his way home. Steve moves clicking himself in the car and rubs his eyes. He’s on a loose thread, and he felt like something was coming. Something that was just going to cut it in half and force him to have to do something he had no plans on doing.

And it does. When he gets a phone call from Keith, the store manager. Who’s trying to get him to come in on his day off. Wanting him to cover a shift, that someone else could easily cover. Steve was close to passing out, there was no way he was able to get behind the drivers wheel and drive like this. “Keith! Can you - dude I can’t come in right now!” He snaps. Running a hand down his face. This was really going to be his last straw. Something so small yet so big. The urge to run away was getting stronger, to escape from the real world. His exhaustion running deeper then just physically but also mentally. Before he can even think about what he was saying he spits it out. “Fuck dude! You know what, I quite. Don’t even bother calling me again, my uniforms already in my locker so I don’t even need to drop it off.” Steve snaps. Slamming the phone into its holder.

It felt amazing, the slight relief of not having something tying him down. The feeling was addictive as he sets his back against the wall. Sliding down dramatically as he feels tears forming in his eyes. Then the relief is gone and he’s overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with everything. Soon, he knows Robin will be calling him. Probably chewing him out about quitting the only stable job there was in Hawkins. His mind was making everything seem bigger then what it really was, anxiety eating away at his stomach as he tilts his head back. He felt like he was drowning, though just a few days ago he had been perfectly afloat. Fine really. Then something happened and he was being pulled down. Shuddering at the thought of a hand wrapping itself around his ankle and yanking him down he throws himself off from the cold floor. Rushing to go to his room.

Logic was gone, he needed to leave. Before this town dragged him down any further. Duffel bag on his bag, his movements and decisions are erratic and stupid. Any person staring and watching from a third persons view could see that. God even Steve could see that, but his brain was so wrapped around the feeling of being buried alive that he doesn’t even care. He wasn’t crying, but he wasn’t calm either. Pulling what he needed out, this was all last minute and he knew that the second he left Hawkins he would be stuck in shitty hotels and sleeping in his car for awhile. Though that sounded more exciting that sleeping in this empty house.

Moving to his closet next he pulls out what he needs, leaving everything else as is. There wasn’t much he needed here. Grabbing his walkie, hoping that where he went would be able to catch the station the kids were on. Moving to the bathroom packing soaps and his toothbrush. Careful not to let any of it explode in the bag. Moving out to his car tossing it in the trunk, before he’s moving back in grabbing any food that wouldn’t expire any time soon and didn’t need to be refrigerated. Though he was panicked, he was clear minded enough to think about cleaning the fridge out. Not much in there anyway. Running a hand through his hair he grabs his keys and takes one final look at the house. He could back out now. But that made him more upset then the thought of leaving Robin and everyone behind. Of course he left a small note, where he knew Robbie would find it. Though he’s sure that he would call when he got to a gas station. Coming up with an excuse about a family emergency.

Moving out side he realizes the thought of never returning to this ugly house didn’t phase him as much as he thought it would. Growing up he was convinced that he would be crying when he drove away from it for the last time. Instead none of those emotions were there. Instead his hands shook as he gripped onto the steering wheel. Looking forward, and not behind him as he pulls out. He shouldn’t be driving, with the lack of sleep he really shouldn’t. Though he needed to hold onto the walkie. Moving and grabbing it from the other seat he presses it hard on his right thigh. Letting the windows down, wind wipping his hair all over. He’s sure that this stunt would only last him a couple of weeks, he would be back in no time.

As the sun comes up, he slips his glasses on. Beaming excitedly as he turns the radio on. Letting whatever station that had been on last play. Heading off to god only knows where, with only what he got, a wallet with all of the money he’s saved up over the past couple of months and a bank account filled with hush money that has been yet to be touched. There was nothing but looking up from here. Letting the road take him where ever it wanted to, hours away from Hawkins. And when it was time for him to meet Robin and Eddie at the diner for their daily breakfast, he’s tempted to turn back. Hearing the panic in Robins voice through the speaker. Reminding himself that he would call later, he turns the thing off. Throwing it to the seat, hearing it thud to the car floor. Nothing but the woods and dirt roads surrounding him now as he finally fulfills his dream of running away.

With the time he had, he knew he was being stupid. Stupid got you killed. But kids his age were allowed to be stupid, so why wasn’t he allowed to be stupid. It wasn’t fair. He sighs as he sees a huge sign that read open. Moving and parking in the driveway, feeling and hearing his tires crunch against the rocks as he heads to eat in a entirely new diner, all by himself and alone for the first time in months.

And god, did it feel good.

Tag list; @whalesharksart @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steddie-as-they-go @justforthedead89 @kengwisi @anzelsilver @miss-wright

*note if you wanted to be added to tag list let me know, though again I don’t plan on this being more then a few parts and no more then 20-30k words because I’m also working on a bang fic lol*

[cowboyemeritus]

Chit-Chat (Papa IV/Cirrus/Reader)

Small talk around the breakfast table. (18+)

Read on AO3

“Oh hey, girl.”

Copia immediately flushes. He’s glad he has his paints on; otherwise, it would be pretty clear to everyone in the dining hall what’s happening.

“Hey, girl,” you say, looking up at Cirrus as she sets her plate at the table and sits down. “Sleep okay?” The air ghoul chuckles softly.

“Like a baby.” She starts spreading butter on a piece of toast, a sickly-sweet smile on her face. “What about you two?” It’s like she knew to wait until Copia took a sip of his coffee to say it, reveling in how he coughs and sputters in response.

You pat his back as he catches his breath. “Papa slept pretty soundly. Poor thing was just so tired.” Cirrus hums in agreement.

“Long day yesterday?” She asks, giving you a knowing look.

“Oh yeah.” You run your fingers through the hair at the base of Copia’s neck. The gesture is meant to be soothing, he knows, but it makes a shiver run down his spine and warmth pool in his gut with the image it calls to mind. You had done the exact same thing the night previous, but under a very different pretense.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You ask, pressing your lips to Copia’s pulse point. He shudders, hips bucking. Beneath him, Cirrus moans deliciously.

“Oh yeah, just like that,” she gasps, clawed fingers tangling in her silvery hair. Her tail slaps impatiently against the bed when Copia remains motionless.

“It’s nothing,” he says. Testing the waters, he thrusts his hips forward and immediately regrets it. He’s entirely too close to his orgasm already. The taste of the air ghoul, like fresh-fallen snow and ozone, still lingers on his tongue, and he groans quietly at the memory of your pussy fluttering around him only a few minutes prior. At least he had made oneofyou cum tonight.

“Are you scared to fuck her like you fuck me?” Copia shakes his head. This had been your idea, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been excited by the prospect of having his Prime Mover and one of his ghouls at the same time, of proving himself to the both of you.

It hasn’t been going the way he thought it would.

But the show must go on. Slowly, he begins to pump into Cirrus. He lets out a breath through gritted teeth as the coil in his gut tightens, and he has to stop once more lest he fall over the edge. The ghoul whines. From behind, Copia hears you chuckle.

“I think I know what the problem is,” you coo, reaching an arm around to grab Copia’s chin. You turn his head so that you’re eye-to-eye with, foreheads just barely touching. “Bite off a bit more than you could chew, huh?” Cheeks burning with embarrassment, he’s trying to come up with a witty retort when Cirrus grinds her hips into him. With a pathetically stifled moan, Copia has to pull out entirely, gripping the base of his cock to keep his climax at bay.

“Amore,” he pants. “I-“ You shush him before he can finish.

“It’s okay, baby.” Copia can’t help but flush deeper as you plant a gentle kiss on his cheek. The hand gripping his face begins to travel downwards, tickling as it brushes across his skin. After a painfully long descent, it joins the one around his shaft. “Let me.” He nods and lets go, your fingers replacing his in a tight hold. Behind him, your hips bump against his ass, guiding him forward so that he’s lined up with Cirrus’ cunt. You push a little more, and his tip slides inside.

“We’ll take it nice and easy,” you whisper, kissing his cheek again. “Just follow my lead.” Slowly, you grind into him, the momentum easing more of his length inside Cirrus. She’s now propped up on her forearms, watching the display before her. The ghoul makes a pleased noise, almost a trill, once Copia is seated to the hilt. Still gripping his shaft, your other hand comes to rest on his lower back, nudging him forward at a steady pace. Cirrus flops back down on the bed, clearly wanting more.

“Touch her for me, baby. Let’s make her feel good.” Not wanting to disappoint, Copia complies, drawing his thumb in circles around Cirrus’ clit. She responds to the stimulation immediately, back arching off the mattress and her tail winding around Copia’s forearm.

“Fuck, Papa,” she groans. In the back of his mind, Copia knows you’re the one really doing the fucking here, but the sound of the ghoul — his ghoul — crying out in pleasure stokes the fire inside him. Feeling somewhat emboldened, Copia starts thrusting into Cirrus harder, his fingers working her sensitive bud a little faster.

“That’s it, love,” you coo. Although you keep gripping his cock, the guiding hand on his back begins to wander up his spine. Leaning forward, you kiss the corner of Copia’s mouth, and he turns his head to give you better access. Your fingers wind into his hair, and he can’t help but hum into your mouth approvingly as you lightly scratch at his scalp.

“I’m so close,” Cirrus gasps. “Oh, fuck, please.” You chuckle softly, breaking away from the kiss.

“Give it to her, Papa.” That’s all the encouragement either of them need. It only takes a few more pumps before Cirrus falls over the edge, gripping the sheets and spasming around Copia wildly. You let go of him then, and he’s immediately launched towards his climax, made all the more sweet by the embarrassment that still simmers in his chest. He’s about to reach his peak when your hands suddenly fly to his hips, pulling him back. His cock slips out, and he’s about to protest when you grip him yet again. 

Before he can even register what’s happened, you start stroking him vigorously. It’s not long before Copia finally cums, moaning through gritted teeth. Hot seed spills over your knuckles and streaks across Cirrus’ abdomen. After catching her breath, the ghoul gathers some of it on a finger, bringing it to her mouth before-

“Well, I’m not surprised,” she says, licking a bit of the extra butter off her knife. “Trying to please everyone all the time must be exhausting.” You grin at each other, your hand traveling to Copia’s shoulder. You give it a squeeze, and with a start, he emerges from his trance, cheeks burning and pants straining.

“Falling asleep already, Papa?” Aether asks from the seat next to him. If he’s privy to the subtext of the conversation or not, Copia can’t tell. He prays not, but the ghouls have ways of communicating with each other that he doesn’t entirely understand.

“Ah, no,” he stammers, reaching for his coffee once again. “I was just… Lost in thought.” He takes a long sip, relishing in the grounding, earthy flavor. To his relief, the fog begins to clear from his mind.

“Either way,” you interject. “We should try and get you to bed early again. We can’t have our Papa collapsing from exhaustion.” Cirrus nods, her shoulders shaking with held-back laughter. Seeing this, Dew raises an eyebrow, but chooses to say nothing. Instead, he shoots you and Cirrus a look. The tips of his fangs gleam in the morning light as his lips quirk up into a slight grin. Cirrus smiles too, humming as she does a quick survey of the table. Seven pairs of fiendish eyes, all glimmering with anticipation, meet hers. She looks to you again, and Copia’s stomach drops.

“You’re in luck,” she says. “I know a few ghouls who would be more than happy to help enforce that.”