#but the old me is under there still and I see her sometimes

[cmdrfupa]

Nanami sat at a quiet corner table in a small cafe, one hand wrapped around a coffee cup that had long since cooled. His gaze drifted out the window, taking in the sights of the street but focusing on none of them.

The hum of the cafe, the muted conversations and clinking cups, was soothing. A moment of quiet felt surreal as he waited for you to meet him.

“Excuse me?”

Nanami looked down to see a small girl, maybe six or seven years old, standing by his table. Her eyes were round and curious, and she was staring at the healed web like burn scars on his face and the scars that peeked out from under the cuff of his shirt.

He felt a pang of self-consciousness and was about to glance away, but the girl tilted her head, undeterred.

“What happened to your face?” she asked, her tone as innocent as her question.

Nanami blinked. He wasn’t used to such direct curiosity. Most people (adults) either looked away out of politeness or offered a sympathetic smile that he never quite knew how to respond to. But this child simply waited, eyes bright and expectant.

He took a steadying breath. “I got hurt while I was working,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “But I’m alright now.”

“Oh,” she replied, digesting this. She looked at his hand, tracing her gaze over the marks on his fingers and wrists. “Does it still hurt?”

“Not anymore.” He found himself softening a bit, his usual reserve giving way to something gentler in the face of her openness.

She nodded, apparently satisfied with this answer, and then broke into a grin. “I think it looks cool. It’s like super hero scars. You must be one!”

Nanami couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “Thank you,” he said. “But I’m not a superhero.”

The girl crossed her arms, as if deep in thought. “My dad says superheroes don’t always wear capes. He says sometimes they’re just regular people who help.”

Nanami felt something twist in his chest at that. “Your dad sounds like a smart man.”

“Sometimes,” she said, scrunching up her nose. “But he doesn’t like coffee or chocolate. He says it tastes like dirt.”

Nanami let out a quiet chuckle. “It does, a little bit. But I like it anyway. And chocolate? That sounds criminal.”

The girl laughed with him “That’s what I think! Chocolate is yummy. He’s nuts.” For a moment, it felt like the weight of everything he’d been carrying was a little lighter.

“My name is Emi.”

“I’m Nanami. It’s nice to meet you Emi. Where are your parents?”

“Behind the counter. They own the cafe.” She smiled as she waved at her dad who gave an apologetic look towards Nanami.

“Do you come here a lot?” she asked, swinging her arms a bit as she looked around the cafe.

“Sometimes. Me and my wife like the pastries here. Or I come here to think.”

She seemed to consider this, then pulled a bright red crayon from the front pocket of her Bluey bag and placed it carefully on the table. “Here. In case you need to write something while you think. Or your wife!” she offered earnestly.

Nanami took the crayon, holding it between his fingers as if it were made of glass. “Thank you,” he said, voice soft. “That’s very kind of you.”

The gentle wind from the door opening brought Nanami’s eyes up and to you as you walked over. “Hi darling.”

You bent to kiss his cheek and smiled before looking over at the little girl. “Well hello! Do we have a new friend?”

“I’m Emi! Is Mr. Nanami your husband?”

You nodded sitting down at the table but still keep contact with the girl.” “Uh huh. He is.”

“Thats so cool. You’re married to a super hero! Did you know that?”

You looked up to Nanami, confused as he chuckled and traced his thumb over the crayons paper wrapping. “It’s.. we’ll get to that in a second.”

[midnightmah07]

"A celebration? Really? Why, aren't you so kind. Thank you, I'll make sure to enjoy myself today."

Voice lines under the cut! • template (warning: I edited a few parts to make it look like my character's RSA dorm)

📚: well, birthday or not there's still a ton of work to do! ... although I guess it wouldn't hurt to relax a tiny bit. Just for today.

📚: my most prized possession? Well, those'd be my books! See, lately I've been reading this wonderful one about a bean stock and an ogre and— ah! S-sorry, I'm rambling too much...

📚: Leona actually gave me something besides a simple "happy birthday" message this year, can you believe it? It's a crochet book cover, he said he got it online... It is really beautiful.

📚: Did you know? Me and my mom used to share a birthday. She used to say I was her birthday gift haha! Oh, how I miss her.

📚: birthdays back home were a mix of emotions to say the least... My sisters and I were never too close so that was always awkward... But my dad always made everything better.

📚: is that— no way, you got a big pudding instead of a cake? Ahahah, why thank you! That's actually really funny, but very creative!

📚: Adeline gave me a really beautiful bouquet of flowers, I'm sure my room will smell even nicer in no time!

📚: I usually like to keep my hair in a bun when I go to sleep. Once I tried using some curlers but it looked weird... My hair is more wavy than curly so... It looked a tad bit strange.

📚: my nightgown? Ah, do you like it? I love sleeping in it, it's rather comfortable! Most women in my country tend to sleep in similar nightgowns.

📚: *yawn* ...hm? Sorry, what was that? I'm still a bit out of it, I slept too late last night... Ah, i-it totally has nothing to do with the new book I've got!!

📚: skincare? Hm... I would like to try it sometime but for now I just use a moisturizer. I care about my appearance, yes, but I've never really paid much mind to my skin in this way.

📚: Poppy gave me a crochet lion plushie... With a scar on his eye. *Sigh* is this to make fun of me or something?

📚: "If you poke Isabelle's dimples you'll have luck for 10 years...?" What sort of rumour is that? Hahah! Oh, goodness... Well, if you want to try, you're welcome to.

📚: what's this old looking note...? Oh, it's from Malleus! It's a happy birthday wish, how thoughtful. I had no idea he knew my birthday though... Is this Adeline's doing?

📚: what a delightful day this has been, and all thanks to everyone here. Thank you very much.

Duo magic:

Isabelle: Thanks for the party, Adeline.

Adeline: Happy birthday, housewarden!

[sunnie-angel]

A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out

Part 2: Pretty Woman

fem!jason todd x fem!reader summary: reader convinces her girlfriend jay to dress up tags: teasing, sexual tension, groping, cunnilingus, thigh riding rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.2k a/n: honestly just an excuse to put jay in cheetah print

Your girlfriend in her steel toed boots, rotating closet of identical tank tops, worn in jeans, and leather jacket is hot. Capital H O T hot. You are absolutely not complaining about the way she dresses, especially when she’s looking at you like you’re something particularly tasty. No, it’s just – she makes you feel so pretty, that’s all. She makes you feel dainty, delicate in her hands, the belle of the ball on the arm of the most handsome woman there. You love the way she makes you feel, you love the way she lets you do her hair sometimes, and you just want to make her feel happy.

So it’s with that in mind that you start planning. Slowly start adding images to your pinterest board, start looking up hair and makeup tutorials. Flag certain items in your online shopping cart for when they go on sale, just so there’s no fuss when the items do turn up in your closet. Primp and practice, collect and wait until just the right moment. For the right mood to strike. And when it does, you’re ready.

You’re curled up on the couch, head resting on Jay’s stomach as you watch old reruns of Dynasty on the tv. She’s got a hand resting on the side of your face, fingers stroking softly as the lights from the screen flicker across your face.

“D’you think they’re pretty?” You ask her, not looking up from your comfy position.

“Who, the actresses?” Her fingers still on your face as you move your head to nod. “I guess, though their fashion’s pretty dated.”

“Yeah but don’t they look so gorgeous and confident though?” You continue to prod. “Big hair, bigger attitude.”

“O-kay,” she drawls, clearly just humouring you but it’s an opening.

“Doesn’t that remind you of anyone?” You tease, starting to push yourself into a seated position.

“What, you don’t mean me?” She squints at you like if she looks hard enough she can see the exact shape of the head damage that put you in this mood.

“Uhuh,” you nod, eyes bright and enthusiastic. “ A little bit of primping, a dab of red lipstick.”

“And then what?” Jay asks. “You turn me into some tv villain sleeping with her ex-husband’s mortal enemy?”

“Um,” you stutter, suddenly shy. “More like the morally grey lesbian that seduces her daughter?”

Jay grins because now she’s got the gist of your plan unfurling into the palm of her hand.

“Yeah?” She teases. “You want me to seduce you?”

You nod, vigorously.

“Okay fine, turn me into your soap opera lesbian then.”

You squeal and grab her hand, drag her off the couch and ignore her rolling eyes at your excitement. Push her down into the vanity seat as gently as you can while dashing around to grab things from their hiding places. Jay looks at you in the mirror as you start to backcomb her hair.

“Is this you preparing for the outcome you wanted again?” She asks suspiciously like she already knows the answer.

“Might have been,” you say, already nearly done with shaping her hair.

A fog of hairspray brings it all together, Jay coughing and swatting at your ass to leave off. Grinning, you spin her around in the chair and start on the makeup. End up sitting on her lap, legs splayed, as you swipe bold oranges and gold across her eyelids, too engrossed in your work to notice the way she’s palming at your ass. A careful hand applies a crisp line of red lipstick to her pout. Grabbing a tissue, you hold it up to her mouth and tell her to “Bite gently.”

She does, eyes never leaving yours with a hunger in them that’s not quite appropriate for prime time television. With a careful finger under her chin, you turn Jay’s head side to side to make sure you haven’t left any spidery mascara marks or fallen glitter. Satisfied with your handiwork, you push off her lap, only suddenly just realizing how far up your skirt had ridden.

“There’s an outfit laid out in the closet,” you tell her, hands fidgeting with your skirt hem. “You don’t– you don’t have to wear all of it if you don’t want to, but um, I’d really like it if you did. I’ll just um, just wait here for the grand reveal then?”

Sighing the heavy burden of the long suffering, Jay walks to the closet, trailing a lone finger down your shoulder as she brushes past. Inside just as you said is an outfit, or, what should be an outfit only there is barely enough fabric to qualify as such. Grumbling she throws her clothes in the laundry basket and starts inspecting what you’ve gifted her.

“Hey these underwear are missing half the fabric,” she calls out to you, holding out the glorified strings of cheetah print, trying to figure out which bit is supposed to actually cover her.

“Thongs just always look like that!” You call back.

“Well I hope you didn’t pay very much for them,” she continues to grumble, finally figuring out how to slide them over her hips without turning them into a garotte.

Pulls the high cut of the waistband up over her hip bones and admires the way they make her look curvy. The bra – the bra almost makes her laugh out loud. That same loud cheetah print only stuffed to the gills with padding. It’s probably 80% padding and the balconette cut means there’s basically no cup for her actual boobs. A very far, far cry from her usual sports bras, but she’ll bite. Has to adjust and play around with it to stop her nipples from wanting to spill out but she’ll admit her tits look good. She will be asking you later about why you had a lingerie set in her size just lying around though. A tight, tight pencil skirt that has her jumping and shimmying to get on goes on next, the stretch of the fabric smoothing out the harsh lines of her. A thin, see through button down is all that’s left. With a snort she simply knots it, already knowing that the hassle of the tiny buttons won’t be worth it. Not with how she plans the rest of the night to go.

Taking a breath, she allows herself a moment to just look at herself in the long mirror. Twists to admire what the skirt does for her ass, the line of her legs. She looks... powerful. The kind of beauty that crushes lesser beings underfoot with casual cruelty, sharp edges tempered by the fullness of curves Jay was never sure she’d really have. Wild. Her muscles make her look dangerous and wickedly feminine, red lips curling up at the corners at her thick thighs test the limits of the skirt seams. The way the shirt clings for dear life across her shoulders, make her an hourglass figure to kill for. Oh you knew what you were doing, dropping hints about seduction, but Jay’s gonna make you regret not being honest about it.

With a swish to her hips that is enchantingly new, Jay walks back into the bedroom. She savours the instantly glassy look in your eyes. The sweet little parting between your lips and the harsh bob of your throat as you swallow. Walks right up to where you sit on the bed and uses her height to loom over you. Your legs part automatically and she slots herself between them like she belongs there. She ghosts the back of her hand down the side of your face and you close your eyes and shudder.

“Like what you see, sweet thing?” She teases. You nod blindly and press your face into her hand. “Such a good girl, getting everything ready for me like this.” You sigh as her fingers card into your hair, cups the back of your head. “There’s just one teeny, tiny, little problem.” Your eyes fly open, brows creasing with confusion. With one hand Jay pulls on the knot keeping her shirt closed, exposes her breasts to the cold air of your bedroom. “My tits are sore from this teeny, tiny, little bra. You’re going to put that conniving little mouth to work and make them feel better.”

The hand cradling your head turns to iron, guides your face to her chest and plants it right in her cleavage. It takes a few slow seconds to realize what’s expected and Jay’s fingers tightening in your hair before you start to move. Quickly you begin to mouth at the warm flesh of her tits, laving your tongue over their heavy weight, kissing and sucking little red marks into them. Use your empty hands to massage them, squeeze at them the way you’ve been to ever since she walked out and tied your tongue into knots. Carefully free one breast from its confines and latch onto her dark nipple. Tease at it with your teeth until you can feel her panting. Your hips start undulating, desperate for friction at your throbbing core. The wet core of your panties brushes against her leg and the iron grip on your head pulls your off of her breast with a wet sounding pop. 

“I generously let you play with my tits but you just had to get greedy, huh?” She taunts. Steps back and has you moaning at the loss of her. “Thought your gluttonous little cunt deserved more.” With a broad hand she smacks between your legs, has you writhing and whimpering only held up by the hand still in your hair. With disgust she throws you back onto the bed and crawls up your body. Shimmies the tight skirt up around her hips, just the thin string of her thong keeping her covered. “I’m going to ride your lying little tongue,” she tells you with a cold kind of disdain. “Your hands are going to stay on my ass the entire time and if you’re good and make me come, maybe I’ll let you grind on my abs after.” 

Your keen gets cut off by Jay seating herself over your face, hands scrabbling to grab onto her plush ass. You tongue aside the wet fabric of her thong and start sucking. Seal your lips around her hole and grind your nose into her clit. Use your hands to encourage her to use you. Tongue at her entrance until she starts swearing, knuckles white around the head board. Slick coats your mouth and chin. Stiffening your tongue, you start to thrust inside of her and she grinds down on you. Throws her head back and arches her back in a way that pushes her breasts out. Entranced, you lap at her cunt reflexively as she starts riding your face in earnest, tits bouncing rhythmically. You throb between your legs, hips meeting nothing but air as you squirm beneath her.

Urging her on, you start to tongue fuck her in earnest, desperate to make her come in your mouth. Jay takes one look at your wide glassy eyes and grins wickedly, instantly understanding what part of the show has all your attention. Reaching behind her, she unclasps the bra and shrugs it off, lets her tits fall heavy. Arches her back artificially and starts to feel herself up. Moans as she tweaks and pinches at her own nipples, hips grinding faster against your tongue. She comes just as you start to give up hope of being good for her, thighs clenching around your ears and slick dripping into your throat, slow fire lighting up her veins.

With a heavy sigh she rolls off of you, sits next to your head as she fixes her skirt. Carefully you keep your hands to yourself as your roll onto your elbows to look up at her. Very intentionally you don’t grind your aching core into the mattress. Jay strokes her thumb over your cheekbone, then uses her hand to tilt your chin up, admiring the way your face glistens in the light.

“My, my baby girl’s a messy eater,” she chides, your face flushing warm. “M’gonna have to teach you better manners.” She tuts.

“Was I–” you clear your throat “Was I good though?”

“Yeah baby, you can have your reward,” she says affectionately. Scrabbling on the bed you straddle her, almost crying out in relief at finally having something to rub up against. “You’re gonna have to do all the work though,” she tells you, warm hands coming up to steady your hips.

You groan and start grinding, her hands guiding you. Strung tight already and achingly turned on, you know its not gonna take much. Your panties are disgustingly wet, soaked through and practically dripping. Frantic, grind as fast as you can, plant your hands on her chest and bear down on her taut stomach. Your thighs already burn and you whine in frustration, pleasure not building fast enough in your gut to satisfy you. Jay reaches up a hand and cups your breast through your t-shirt. Brushes a thumb over a sensitive nipple and you’re crying out as you come on her stomach, legs shaking and cunt quivering.

Exhausted, you slump over on her chest, face buried in her neck. She pets a hand over your hair and coos as you shake against her warm skin.

“There she is, there’s my good baby girl.” You sigh and try to wriggle closer at the praise. “See what being patient gets you? Now come on baby,” she says, rolling you onto your back on the middle of the bed. “Let’s get these sticky panties off. I want to see whose lips this lipstick looks better on.”

series masterlist | part 1 | part 3

[roseadleyn]

Lidia‘s SA was handled even worse. Sjm would have lidia fuck Ruhn in mind at the same time she’s getting SA‘ed by her ex. Lidia never received proper time to heal from that sh*t. The moment Ruhnlidia made up in the third book they had mf sex.

Nesta had sex with Cassian right after getting SA‘ed by that weirdo kelpie from the lake, and that other time when Lanthys made her see that vision in which he SA‘ed her too. The SA from Tomas was also never properly acknowledged.

At least Gwyn had 2 years to recover. Most SA survivors in her books don’t receive much time to at least process it all before fucking. You’re telling me Rhys is all cool with going down on Feyre after 50 years of SA? Feyre can easily forget the sh*t Rhys did to her utm? Great.

If Gwynriel is canon, Sjm will most definitely fuck up her trauma like she always does.

Sjm: „Oh you were touched against your will?“

Sjm: „Here have a cock. That will heal you quickly!“

Worst of all is that the sex is always so… rough? Specifically for Nesta. At least worship her and make her feel safe instead of dicking her down like she‘s a good one night stand. Poor girl.

ya i'm just realizing that gwyn is at least not as bad as nesta or feyre or lucien or rhys or lidia. i haven't read any other sjm books but i know abt lidia and that's insane 😭 it's like she doesn't know how to write intimacy. it's like she thinks emotional connections only exist in sex.

it was insane how feyre only rescued lucien from being raped because she remembered her darling rhys and not because lucien is her first friend and also it's just the MORAL THING TO DO

( also why is it that everytime a couple fights in sjm's novels, they always have sex when they make up? i get that angry makeup sex is soo hot etc but like can no one have a conversation? can she not show how sometimes issues are talked out not fucked out? )

do NOT i hate how she wrote nesta i hate everything abt it. nesta was assaulted by tomas and when he found out he restrained her against the wall??? in the same manner tomas would have?? also i'm never going to forget how cassian tugged at the skirts of her dress and asked her 'what're you hiding under all this anyways?' without her consent, during a time in which they didn't like each other, and he was there on diplomatic purposes.

and i just checked but literally RIGHT after she was sa-ed by the kelpie, cassian not only had sex with her but he left her without any aftercare. bed still warm. rough sex as if she's a one night stand. she's sexually assaulted and then left wondering if cassian was 'punishing' her by leaving immediately. ugh i despise him i hate him.

and rhys? he literally has one (1) traumatic flashback to his trauma and whoop that's it yall we're done. and feyre wearing the same clothes she was wearing when she got assaulted for rhys, even though rhys was the one who assaulted her.

it pushes an extremely unhealthy narrative. very young girls (literally 15-16 year olds) read these books and they'll think these toxic, unrealistic, unhealthy dynamics are normal. it's so concerning and i hate the entire genre of dark romance for it but that's a story for some other angry rant

i hate the rough jackhammering sex. i fear she's gonna do the same shit with elain and lucien (😭). nesta deserves to be worshipped and praised and then given plenty of aftercare free my girlll

( for acotar stans who for some reason go into anti tags: do not interact u will be BLOCKED !!! okay bye 💋 )

[fluenzed]

AFTER OBX - JJ MAYBANK FANFICTION PART 3

fanfiction | jj maybank | alternative ending | obx | 4674 words

warning: mention of sex, drugs, alcohol and violence

This is the first story I've written, so please be kind and understanding! English isn't my first language, so feel free to let me know if there are any mistakes or if something is unclear.

CHAPTER 3 - "Trust me Al', I really want to."

As Alex cracked her eyes open in the dark, she could already feel the remnants of last night—a dull throb in her temples and the lazy weight of sleep still in her bones. It was barely five a.m., but JJ had insisted: the earlier, the more fish you get. She wasn’t sure if that was a proven fact or just JJ's wishful thinking, but here she was, rolling out of bed anyway. She blinked at her phone, and there it was, his message glowing on the screen:

"Hey, are you up already?"

She couldn’t help but smile, feeling his excitement even through the small screen. She hadn’t known JJ long, but he was a mystery to her. He spent most of his time on the docks, fixing boats and selling bait, a kind of old-soul existence that set him apart from anyone she knew. She felt like he hid his thoughts behind that easy smile of his, a mask for something heavier. Sometimes, when their eyes met, she saw glimpses of the loneliness he kept carefully under wraps, a glint of sadness she wasn’t used to seeing from him.

"Hey, yes, I'm gonna shower," she typed back quickly, and stretching before trudging to the bathroom.

"I’m leaving now. Be there in 20 minutes." Alex answered briefly, and entered the shower, the hot water cascaded over her shoulders, and the steam wrapped her in a welcome warmth that chased away the lingering grogginess. The shower did wonders, the heat working through her muscles as she thought about JJ's invitation. He hadn’t just wanted her to come along; he seemed genuinely excited, maybe a little more than usual. They'd been hanging out more lately, and she had this quiet hope that he was starting to feel comfortable around her, like he might eventually let his guard down and let her in.

As she brushed her teeth, she glanced at her phone again, a new message lighting up the screen.

She quickly pulled herself together, trying to dress warm enough for the November chill without looking like she was headed for the Arctic. She layered up—a snug thermal shirt, a thick gray sweater, her warmest jeans, and, finally, the red rubber boots she had found in the shoe closet , perfect for a day like that

As she brushed her teeth, she glanced at her phone again, a new message  lighting up the screen.

« Here. » Texted JJ.

She bundled herself into her black padded coat, the sleeves and hood lined with fleece, and reached for a beanie and scarf as she stepped out the door.

The moment she opened the door, the cold hit her like a wave. The damp, salty air clung to her cheeks, forcing her fully awake as she pulled her scarf tighter and locked the door. JJ’s car was idling at the curb, and through the foggy windows, she could make out his familiar silhouette. She walked quickly, ducking her head against the chill, and as she reached the car, he leaned over to pop the door open from the inside.

"Hey ya," he greeted her, his face lighting up with a wide grin, his eyes crinkling with that same excitement he’d felt in his messages.

"Hey," she answered, sliding into the seat and rubbing her hands together for warmth. The car smelled like coffee and saltwater, a scent she was starting to associate with him.

"Still half asleep?" he asked, chuckling as he passed her a steaming cup. "Figured you’d need a coffee."

She accepted it gratefully, wrapping her hands around the cup to soak in the warmth. "You’re a lifesaver," she mumbled, taking a sip and closing her eyes briefly to savor the taste.

JJ laughed, putting the car into gear and pulling away from her house. "You’re not regretting this yet, are you?"

"Not yet," she teased, glancing sideways at him. "But give it time. November, J? It’s freezing out there!"

"Best time for fishing," he shot back, unphased. "Besides, you’re with me. I wouldn’t let you freeze."

Her cheeks warmed in an unmistakable blush. She pressed her hands together in her lap, thankful that JJ’s focus was on finding the right radio station, his eyes darting between the road and the dial, entirely unaware of her quiet embarrassment. The quiet streets of Porto blurred past the window as they drove toward the bait shop. The early morning was thick with that peculiar, dewy stillness, the kind that seemed to draw in secrets and hold them close. Alex glanced over at JJ, watching the way his hands moved with easy familiarity over the steering wheel. The two of them in his car, sharing this quiet, unhurried moment, felt oddly significant, as if they’d entered into a new and unspoken closeness.

The bait shop was already buzzing with the muted energy of early-morning fishermen stocking up for the day. Alex followed JJ inside, where they greeted his boss, a thickly built man with a deep tan and a voice that boomed out greetings in a warm, melodic Portuguese accent. Alex could feel the shop’s earthy scent of saltwater, fish, and old wood—it felt like stepping into JJ’s world, a place where he was confident and at ease. She watched him gather everything they’d need for the day with quick, sure movements, his hands deftly selecting bait and fishing lines, checking for the smallest details. She trailed along behind him, a silent observer in this environment that felt so natural for him, yet was entirely new to her.

“Jackson!” his boss called out, his tone loud but carrying a warmth and respect that Alex hadn’t often heard. His voice wrapped around JJ’s name, giving it weight and familiarity. JJ turned immediately, straightening with a look of curiosity.

“Yes, boss?” he replied, his voice slightly more formal but still tinged with an easy humor.

“I set aside some new gear for you. It’s the best—top of the line, if you’re looking to bring in a big catch today.” His boss reached over and handed JJ a large bag filled with state-of-the-art equipment, each piece carefully selected.

JJ’s face broke into a grin as he took the bag, his eyes lighting up like he’d just been handed a rare treasure. “Damn, thanks, boss! With this stuff, I’ll bring the whole ocean!” he said, laughing. The two shared a chuckle, and Alex couldn’t help but smile too, feeling herself slip further into this tight-knit world that JJ inhabited.

“Alright then, have fun, kids,” his boss said, giving JJ a hearty clap on the back. He turned to Alex with a warm, knowing smile that made her feel welcome, as if she were now a part of this small community. Then, with a final wave, he returned to helping another customer.

JJ led her down to the dock behind the shop, where his small boat was tied up, bobbing gently with the rhythm of the water. “There she is,” he announced with pride, patting the side of the boat. “That’s the beast.”

Alex looked over the boat, its blue and white paint worn and faded in some places, revealing hints of past repair jobs. Despite its modest appearance, the boat had a kind of rugged charm that felt like an extension of JJ himself. Its little cabin looked cozy enough, just big enough to shield them from the wind if needed. It was clear that this boat had stories, perhaps quiet memories from trips before today. It struck her that JJ likely spent many hours on this boat, alone with the water, the wind, and his thoughts.

As he began loading the bait and gear, JJ extended a hand to help her step aboard. She took it, feeling the warmth and steadiness of his grip, a subtle but meaningful gesture that made her heart beat just a little faster. Once aboard, she watched him untie the boat with quick, practiced hands before hopping on himself, then moved over to the small, weathered wheel at the front.

“You ready to catch some fish?” he asked, his grin contagious, the excitement lighting up his face.

“Oh, yeah baby ! » she replied with a laugh, surprising herself with the sudden enthusiasm in her voice. JJ laughed, too, his laughter mingling with the soft splashing of the water as he started the engine.

The rising sun cast a warm glow over Porto as they moved further along the river. The city’s pastel-colored buildings began to light up, one by one, under the touch of early light. The stone bridges that stretched over the river looked beautiful in this soft dawn light, casting reflections onto the rippling water below. Alex let her gaze wander over the city, watching the morning unfold in peaceful beauty. But as much as she admired Porto, her gaze kept drifting back to JJ. He was focused on steering, his eyes reflecting a quiet confidence, his hands steady on the wheel. It struck her just how at home he seemed here, surrounded by the quiet rhythm of the river.

There was something magnetic about JJ in this moment—an unspoken ruggedness, a simplicity she found both intriguing and mysterious that she has never seen in someone else before. She’d known him as the friendly bait-shop worker. But here, on his boat, he seemed different. There was a sense of freedom about him, a glimpse of something deeper, It was as though he belonged to this place more than she’d ever realized, as if he were a part of the landscape itself—solid, steady, enduring. As if he could leave the worries and the weight of his past behind with each passing wave.

Every now and then, she would glance over at JJ, wondering what was going through his mind as he guided them along the water. He’d once mentioned that he’d come to Porto looking for a new start, but she never pressed for details. She hoped that maybe today, but out here, with only the water and sky as witnesses, she might get to hear a little more of his story. As they drifted farther from the city, the river opened up, and the world around them grew quieter. Alex felt a peace settle over her, a rare calm that only seemed to exist out here on the water.

The sky was painted in pastel hues, the colors reflected in the rippling surface of the Douro. She glanced over at JJ, whose eyes were fixed on the horizon, and she wondered what thoughts were running through his mind. Did this quiet expanse of water and sky give him the peace he seemed to be searching for?

As they arrived at the fishing spot, the boat slowed to a gentle stop, drifting into a calm pocket of ocean surrounded by miles of quiet blue. The morning light reflected on the water’s surface, casting dappled sun spots that glinted with each gentle ripple. JJ moved with purpose, unloading the fishing gear from the bags and setting it on the deck. He began with the nets, his hands moving with steady precision as he laid them out, unfolding them carefully and securing each section.

“Alright, let’s start with the nets,” JJ said, his tone focused but with a hint of a smile as he glanced over at Alex. “I’ll show you how to set the first one up, and then you’ll do the second.”

Alex nodded, watching him with full attention, noting the way his hands moved confidently as he untangled the lines and secured them along the boat’s edge. There was a quiet assurance in his movements that made it look so easy, and she tried to commit each step to memory, determined to get it right when it was her turn. As JJ finished casting the first net, he gave her a nod, signaling for her to take over. Alex reached out, a bit nervous but excited, carefully mimicking his actions. JJ watched her with a small smile, offering a pointer here and there until, finally, she had the net set just as he’d shown her.

“Not bad at all,” JJ remarked, a hint of pride in his voice as he leaned back. Alex felt a surge of satisfaction as she looked at the net stretching out beside the boat.

With the nets in place and the ocean calm, JJ went over to grab a fishing rod. “Alright, now for the fun part,” he said with a glint of excitement in his eyes. He held up the rod and motioned her to come closer. “Kneel down here, and I’ll show you how to set up your line.”

Alex settled beside him, her eyes fixed on his hands as he unrolled a length of line, his movements methodical and calm. “You’ll want to unroll the line to about 30 centimeters shorter than the rod,” he explained, glancing at her to make sure she was following. “That’s so there’s a bit of give, but not too much slack.” He tied a quick knot and held it up, loosening it just enough so she could try it herself.

“Now you try,” he said, his gaze warm and encouraging.

Taking a deep breath, Alex took the line, trying to copy his steps. She could feel his eyes on her, steady and patient, as she fumbled with the knot. Five times in a row, she tried to replicate his actions, her fingers not quite managing the simple motion. JJ chuckled lightly, though his tone remained reassuring. “You’re close—just a bit tighter with your left hand,” he said, guiding her with a gentle nudge. Finally, on her sixth attempt, the knot held, and she looked up at him, triumphant.

“There you go!” he exclaimed, his face breaking into a proud smile. He held his hand up for a high-five, and she grinned as she met it with a satisfying slap.

They moved on to setting up the trolling rods. JJ showed her how to fit them into the fasteners on the side of the boat, explaining how they would trail bait behind them as they moved. “It’s called trolling,” he explained, “and it’s a bit easier since we let the rods do most of the work.” This part was simpler, and she quickly secured the rods, feeling more at ease as JJ guided her with a calm assurance.

Once everything was set, JJ held up a thick fishing belt. “You’ll need to wear this,” he said, his voice a little softer as he looked at her.

He stepped closer, holding the belt out in front of her. “Mind if I help?”

She nodded, feeling her heart quicken as he wrapped the belt around her waist, his hands firm but gentle as he tightened it just enough. His hands lingered for a moment, adjusting the belt, and she could feel the warmth of his touch through the fabric. She tried to keep her breathing steady, hoping he wouldn’t notice the slight blush creeping into her cheeks. “It needs to be tight enough for support,” he explained, “but not so tight you can’t breathe. Comfortable?”

She swallowed and nodded. “Perfect.”

He gave her a small nod of approval, and then moved behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders as he guided her to the edge of the boat. She could feel the weight of his touch, grounding her as she looked out at the wide expanse of the ocean in front of them.

“Alright,” he murmured, positioning her feet firmly on the deck. He handed her the rod, moving close behind her, his chest brushing against her back as he leaned in, his hands covering hers on the rod. “Now, hold your hands a bit higher,” he instructed, adjusting her grip. She could feel his breath against her ear, warm and steady, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

“Swing it to the left, like this,” he demonstrated, his voice soft and calm. She followed his lead, her movements guided by his hands, each step precise and smooth. “And when you’re ready, cast it out.” His hands moved hers in one fluid motion, and the line arced out gracefully over the water.

He stayed close, his hands still over hers as he showed her how to reel. “If you feel a bite, lift the rod and reel quickly, like this,” he murmured, his fingers grazing hers as he demonstrated the motion. She nodded, completely absorbed, her senses heightened by his proximity. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her skin, the steadiness of his hands, and she had to focus to keep her hands steady, savoring the quiet closeness between them.

The day passed in a rhythm of easy laughter, stories, and a few triumphant catches. By late afternoon, they’d settled into a comfortable silence, the sun dipping lower in the sky as they each held a beer, the cold bottles refreshing after the warmth of the sun. They toasted, the soft clink of glass mingling with the distant sound of waves.

JJ took a long sip of his beer, his eyes thoughtful as he gazed out over the horizon, the fading light casting a golden glow over his face. For a moment, he seemed lost in his own thoughts, his expression softening. Finally, he turned to her, his eyes warm but serious.

«You’re good company, » JJ said  casually, breaking a moment of silence.

Alex turned to him, surprised. « So are you. »

He smiled, his gaze lingering on her a little longer than usual, his usual confident expression softened. “I mean it. I don’t do this with just anyone.”

There was a rare honesty in his tone that caught her off guard, a glimpse of a vulnerability he usually kept tightly locked away. His eyes held hers with a quiet intensity, and she felt the sincerity of his words resonate deep within her.

“You’re… easy to be around,” he continued, his voice quieter, almost as if he was talking to himself as much as to her. “I don’t feel like I have to try so hard with you.”

His gaze drifted between her eyes and her lips, lingering just a fraction too long, and she felt her heartbeat quicken, each word from him settling between them in the silent understanding they seemed to share. She sensed that he wasn’t used to expressing this side of himself, and it made her want to reach out, to show him he didn’t have to keep his guard up.

She took a breath, steadying herself, then met his gaze with a soft but unwavering look. “I don’t know what happened to you,” she began, her voice low and filled with compassion. “I don’t know who hurt you so deeply that you feel like you have to keep everyone at a distance.” She saw a flicker of pain cross his face, but he didn’t look away, holding her gaze as if he was searching for something in her eyes. “But I want you to know,” she continued, her voice growing softer, “that when you’re ready to let someone in, I’ll be here. I’ll listen. I want to help, even if it’s just to make you feel a little better.”

His eyes glistened as she spoke, a trace of raw emotion shining through. He blinked, his lashes damp, and she could see him struggling to keep his composure. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the words were caught somewhere between his heart and his lips.

“Just… wanted you to know you can trust me,” she whispered.

JJ took a breath, his jaw tight, his eyes searching hers as if trying to determine if he could let himself believe her.

 “Trust me, Al,” he replied, his voice barely above a murmur. His face leaned closer, close enough that she could see the flecks of gray swimming in the ocean blue of his eyes, every detail of his gaze drawing her in. “I really want to.” He hesitated, his lips almost brushing hers as he added, “I just… can’t right now.”

They hovered there for a moment, on the edge of something unspoken, each aware of the thin line between them and the weight of everything they were holding back. But just as he was about to say something more, the sky opened up with a sudden, heavy downpour, the rain catching them off guard and breaking the moment in an instant.

“Oh, hell!” JJ exclaimed, glancing up at the dark clouds that had crept in unnoticed. The rain poured down, soaking them both within seconds, the heavy drops leaving trails down their faces. He looked over at her, water dripping from his hair, and saw her laughing, her head tilted back with an unrestrained, joyful sound.

She grinned at him, her eyes shining. “Told you fishing in November was risky!” she laughed, her voice almost drowned out by the pounding of the rain.

JJ chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, rolling his eyes but smiling despite himself. He gave her a playful nudge before glancing toward the cabin. “Get in there,” he urged. “Last thing I need is for you to slip and fall overboard.” His tone was light, but his hand on her shoulder was gentle, almost protective.

She nodded, ducking into the small cabin, and watched as he stayed on deck, quickly securing the rods and nets, his movements brisk as he fought against the wind and rain. After a few minutes, he finally joined her in the cabin, soaked to the bone, water dripping from his clothes and hair as he ran a hand over his face.

“Well,” he said with a wry smile, “I think that’s our sign to head back.” He looked over at her, and despite the storm, there was an unmistakable spark in his eyes, a shared sense of adventure lingering between them.

Alex’s eyes lit up with a sudden idea. “Can I drive us back?” she asked, half-joking but also eager. “I know you’re the captain, but I’ve been telling you I know how to drive a boat.”

He raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes as he handed her the controls. “Alright, then,” he said, stepping aside. “Just know I’m standing right behind you in case things get rough.”

She took the wheel, feeling his hands guide hers briefly to adjust her grip as the boat began to move. She felt his steady presence behind her, his hands occasionally brushing hers to offer a nudge or steer them back on course. It felt exhilarating to be in control, with the rain still beating down and the waves choppy beneath them, but knowing he was there, guiding her, watching over her, brought a sense of calm.

They navigated back toward the shore in comfortable silence, their shared laughter and quiet moments echoing in the rhythm of the boat’s movement, each aware that today had brought them closer in ways words couldn’t quite capture. Finally, as they reached the docks and the rain began to lighten, she could feel his gaze on her once more, and she knew that this day would be one they would both hold onto for a long time.

Once they arrived back at the docks, JJ secured the boat, moving with practiced ease despite the rain that had softened but still pattered steadily around them. The world beyond the little boat felt distant, the rain creating a hazy curtain that made everything look blurred and dreamlike. He stepped back into the cabin, water dripping from his hair as he looked at Alex with a half-smile.

"Well," he said, his voice low and steady, "let’s stay here for a while. No point getting drenched running out now."

Alex nodded, her body shaking a little from the cold. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to bring back some warmth. JJ noticed her shivering and reached for an old blanket tucked away in a corner. The fabric was thick, a little scratchy, but comforting. He held it out, his gaze lingering on her for a moment as she gratefully pulled it around her shoulders, the warmth spreading through her.

Without a word, he took another beer from the cooler he’d brought along and sat down beside her on the narrow bench, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. Alex shifted the blanket, offering him a corner so they could share it.

He glanced at the blanket, smiling softly as he adjusted it to make sure she was completely wrapped up. "I’m fine," he murmured, his voice gentle, barely above a whisper, as if speaking any louder would disturb the quiet that had settled over them. The care in his voice made her heart swell, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

They sat quietly for a few minutes, listening to the rhythmic patter of rain against the cabin roof. The air between them felt charged, filled with something unspoken yet profoundly comforting. Every so often, Alex could feel his arm brush against hers, each accidental touch sending a tiny thrill through her, grounding her in this shared moment.

A fresh downpour suddenly came down in waves, pounding against the boat with renewed vigor. The rain grew louder, almost drowning out the steady sound of their breathing, and Alex chuckled in disbelief, looking over at him.

“Oh my god, it’s starting again!” she said, softly.

JJ shook his head, a playful glint in his eyes. “Looks like we’re officially stuck for a while.” He set his beer down on the small table beside him and leaned back, shifting slightly as he looked at her, his gaze softer than she’d ever seen it. He let out a long, slow breath, as if he were finally allowing himself to relax completely. Without a word, he leaned over and rested his head gently on her shoulder, closing his eyes.

“I think I’ll take a nap right here,” he said, his voice barely audible as he crossed his arms over his chest and settled into her shoulder. Alex could feel his weight against her, solid and reassuring, his closeness making her heart beat faster.

For a moment, she sat still, hardly daring to breathe, afraid she might disturb him. The warmth of his head on her shoulder, the light tickle of his hair brushing against her neck, and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing filled her with an unfamiliar calm. She dared to relax a little, leaning into him just enough that she could feel his presence fully, her cheek lightly brushing the top of his head.

Outside, the rain continued its relentless pour, creating a comforting cocoon of sound around them. The world outside was lost to the storm, and it felt as though they were the only two people in existence, hidden away in this little cabin, away from everything that had once kept them guarded and apart. She could feel his breath, warm and steady, against her shoulder, and she found herself slowly exhaling, letting the tension ease from her body.

She felt her fingers twitch as she resisted the urge to reach over and brush his hair away from his face. His vulnerability, so rarely shown, was on full display, and it stirred something deep inside her—a desire to protect him, to give him the space to just be, without any expectations.

Minutes passed in silence, each of them wrapped in their own thoughts but connected in a way neither had fully acknowledged. She listened to the rain, each drop blending into a soft lullaby, and soon found herself drifting, her eyes growing heavy, lulled by the steady warmth of JJ beside her.

[lillaydee]

Alone

Jackson! Joel Miller / OFC

Annie had always been alone. Until Jackson. But is it too good to be true?

Note: This was my second fic ever - the first one I wrote about Joel. Started writing to practice using English so if the language is bad please forgive me.

Also, Tess MIGHT not be shown in the best light here, so fair warning.

Word Count: 13,939 (It was 4 chapters, I combined it for this purpose)

WARNINGS:

EXTREME ANGST, Loneliness, Tess Lives (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Character Death, Minor Character Death, Not Canon Compliant, Graphic Death Descriptions

ANNIE

Annie had never really had people in her life. For less than a day, she had a mother and a father, both of whom immediately decided that having a baby was too much for them. She was found in a box in front of the fire station, and then immediately placed in the foster system, passed around, not really wanted by anyone, never staying anywhere long enough to make friends or get attached to people, until she turned 18 and was released into the society. She got a job as an assistant at the library, stacking books and helping with record keeping. For 30 glorious days, she had friends and a small room she rented from an old lady whom she helped with daily chores. She had a purpose and was looking forward to settling into her new life with her first paycheck.

And then the world went to shit.

For 20 years, Annie floated around, surviving, never really making any friends, just living, fighting, trying so hard to make sure she lived another day. Several times, she found places to set root in. Abandoned houses or shacks that can shelter her from harsh winters, and enough resources for her to forage or hunt for food. Those were the best days, she often thought. Getting to keep house, having a routine. But she was still alone. Alarmingly, she caught herself saying what was on her mind out loud daily. Just describing her day-to-day activities to the room or surrounding area, just to not lose her mind. Before she knew it, it became a habit. It’s not weird when she was alone. Not like there was anyone to laugh at her for talking to herself.

Every time, just when she got comfortable in her makeshift home, raiders would come. The infected would come. FEDRA would come. She was but one woman. She could fight, sure, years of surviving in this afterworld had forced her to learn, but she was still one woman. So, the backpack she kept ready to go was hauled onto her back, and a blanket filled with what she could carry slung over her shoulder, and she ran. On to the next place.

Sometimes she would be taken in by groups of people she met along her way, but the groups always moved on. In fact, on more than one occasion, she woke up to an empty camp, the people who had people having moved on without her, deciding she was not worth the resources needed to keep her with them. At least that’s what she told herself.

The men had use for her, though. They always had. Particularly in secluded places and under sleeping bags at night. She often wondered if she was upset by this, if she should feel used, offended. But to her, this was just another day. She had to survive somehow. And if her looks and body can help her survive another day, then so be it. The women did not see her that way, though. To them, she was a threat. Someone who mysteriously still looked good despite not having a meal plan and sleeping in the dirt every night for years on end. Someone who their men and protector could not seem to keep their eyes and hands off. Even at the end of the world, jealousy prevailed.

The men, although eager to take their payments from her, she noticed, would never put her before their women, which, in retrospect, was a good thing, but not for her. During every attack, every defense, she found that no one had her back. Often, she was left as bait so the others could escape, the men holding their women close to get them to safety. What she wouldn’t give to have someone do that for her.

She carried on as best she could. Moving from place to place, wandering around, never really sleeping, or eating well, until one day, she hit her limit. The conversations with herself stopped. She didn’t even have anything to say to herself anymore. How long can she keep doing this? Although she wasn’t aware of it at the time, going day to day for 20 years without anyone having her back finally caught up with her. She was all alone, with no one to love or live for, and no one to do the same for her. She felt tired. Surrendering, deciding that she had survived enough, and ready to give up. She stopped eating. Her body eventually got so weak she took to crawling to move when finding shelter but remained in the same area for weeks. When winter hit its peak, she stopped moving altogether. When her body grew numb and stopped shivering, she thought of the 30 days when she had people, had hope and purpose. If she was taking her last breath, those 30 days, the happiest days of her life were what she wanted to think about. No sadness when dying. Not when she had no one who would be sad for her demise.

That’s when Joel and Tommy found her, almost an icicle, starving and emaciated, and brought her back to Jackson.

From the moment Annie was brought into Jackson, Joel took it upon himself to make sure she was doing all right. He made sure Maria housed her in a small cottage at the end of the town, not far from his own place. He and Tommy came by every day for a week, fixing whatever needed fixing and making the place livable. Ellie and Maria came by and brought supplies – blankets, clothing, toiletries, even basic grocery needs – so she could start her new life in Jackson.

Maria learnt of her short experience at the library in the before, so asked her to help out in the library. Every day, Annie woke up, went to the mess hall for breakfast, went to the library, had lunch and continued working until the evening. Then, in the evenings, she would go to the storage warehouse, helping sort out supplies that had been brought in by the patrol groups, or even reorganizing a few things around. She kept to herself, though. She ate alone, worked alone, and went home alone. But she had a routine, people to serve and help. And in doing so people served and helped her as well, all a part of the ‘bartering’ system in Jackson.

Joel, Ellie, Tommy and Maria said hello every now and again. Tommy and Maria were friendly enough. Asking her if she needed anything, making sure she was alright and settling in well. Ellie began to stop by at the library, or even the warehouse, talking her ears off every single time. Annie liked spending time with her. Especially since she didn’t need to contribute much. Ellie would tell her everything she learnt, and then some. Movies she had watched, music she listened to, food she had tried, friends she had made. Annie began feeling less lonely, feeling as if she actually had people, even if for just a few minutes a day.

But Joel did more. Her firewood was always fully stocked. Her windows and doors never squeaked, her rotten steps magically fixed. He brought her bread every now and again. Jackets and books and whatever else he thought she would enjoy, extra fruits that he could get his hands on, anything, really. And if he happened to be on his way home at the same time as her, which was suspiciously often, whatever was burdening her hands would immediately be whisked away into his strong arms. He would walk the extra distance past his own house just to ease her person of anything she had to carry, which, at one point, was just her jacket, which she had taken off from being sweaty after a long day of organizing at the warehouse. He didn’t speak, though. Just a silent presence, grunting hellos and goodbyes sometimes. But no more.

After a few weeks of these unspoken actions, he began to linger on her porch after walking her home. And slowly but surely, the silences faltered. He started small talk with her. Asking about her day. It seemed Joel had never met anyone who was less prone to speaking than he was. She had been alone for so long, only having herself to speak to, so conversations did not come naturally to her. But she got used to Joel’s small talk, and eventually got comfortable talking to him, albeit in mumbled, or muttered short sentences. He was not exactly chatty to start with anyways.

When she got sick one day, these four people made sure she was taken care of, taking turns to check in on her, but Joel came every single day when he was not on patrol. When she got better, Joel continued to come every day, beginning with small talk on the porch, which eventually led to him being invited in for drinks, and their relationship progressed from there. Joel would tell her about his life from before. About his work, his daughter Sarah, about the depression and aimlessness that came from her death.

He told her about Tess, about his regrets of keeping her at arm’s length, of using her for survival, of scratching an itch while never acknowledging what might had been his true feelings for her until it was too late. He told her that despite his regret, he wasn’t sure if he would ever risk having such attachments to anyone ever again, his fear of losing them and down spiraling again too great a cost for his already fragile mind and heart. But then Ellie managed to somehow make him let his guard down, and now that he was safe in Jackson, with Ellie, Tommy and Maria, he wondered if he could risk his heart again. Perhaps let someone else in.

Their relationship turned physical sometime after that confession. That first time, Annie was shocked at how different things were with Joel. He was gentle, considerate, unlike the men she met before Jackson, who were only thinking of their own satisfaction, and never caring about hers. Joel explored her. Touched her. Felt her. Caressed her. With Joel, she didn’t feel like being used for sex. She felt as if she was cared for. Like she mattered. Important. And most importantly, she was sated. She woke up alone, his side of the bed rumpled, but oh so cold. Not that she minded. Other men left as soon as they were done with her. Why not him? This was what she knew. This was how sex was.

So, when he came back, time and again, and not always for sex, she was shocked. This is unfamiliar territory. He would still talk to her. He didn’t treat her like some leftover food he had spat out. She was not used to this. He seemed to still be interested in her. The sex remained intimate. Special. Eventually, he would hold her close after, and they would talk about nothing and everything. He never stayed over, though. He had Ellie to think about, he told her. She understood.

Despite their rendezvous turning sexual, Joel kept it private. He never showed her affection in public. Never sat for meals with her at the mess hall. Never sat with her during movie nights. Never danced with her at parties or gatherings. Behind closed doors, he could not keep his hands off her. But in public, he only watches her from afar, content with allowing Ellie, Tommy and Maria to entertain her and keep her company.

Annie didn’t mind. She knew how he felt, even though he never spent the night. She knew he wasn’t looking at anyone else. She knew she was his. She knew him enough to understand he needed time to navigate their relationship. And to be frank, this was more than she had ever had. So, who was she to question his intentions? At least she had him, even if it was just in the privacy of her little cottage. When out on patrol, despite him not talking to her unless they were alone, she knew he was watching, she felt as if for the first time in her life, someone had her back, even if it’s just a feeling.

Ellie knew. Maria knew. Tommy knew. They teased her about it sometimes. They knew she was Joel’s girl. That’s why they kept her company. Kept an eye on her at gatherings, knowing that the isolation she had been through made it difficult for her to make friends. Heck, even the town knew, despite the lack of PDA. She was often at the receiving end of sour looks from the single ladies of Jackson, those who had kept their eyes on Joel – the most eligible bachelor in town. The men had always paid attention to her, staring hard until they were forced to look away under the weight of Joel’s stern gaze, or, more often than not, their own wives’. Annie received death stares from those ladies for her troubles.

Joel noticed. He didn’t like it. She shouldn’t have to be on the receiving end of hatred from the ladies of Jackson, single or otherwise. So, for the first time since she arrived in Jackson exactly six months ago, he stayed. He comforted her and apologized to her. He reasoned that he was to blame for this. He should be more open about their relationship. So why don’t they have their meals together from now on? That way, people would see, and she would no longer be the sole gossip fodder. Annie agreed, looking forward to belonging for once.

The next morning, they walked to the mess hall together, her hand entwined in his. They picked up Ellie on the way and were soon joined by Tommy and Maria. Along the way, they chatted, Ellie reading silly jokes from her pun book. Annie had never felt so happy. She was part of a group. She had people. These people chose her. Joel’s hand never left hers. The group received looks from the townsfolk, But Annie found that when in a group, the looks were not suffocating. It made her feel good, in fact. She thought she even saw some smiles thrown her way. For the first time in her life, Annie felt content. She will be alright. She was cared about.

As they were approaching the mess hall, a commotion at the gate drew their attention to it. The gate was opened quickly, and a woman walked in. She looked worse for wear, her eyes searching her surroundings. Annie felt Joel and Ellie and freeze next to her.

“Tess”, Ellie said.

The next thing she knew, Ellie was running at full speed towards the woman. Tess, apparently. She collided with Tess and started sobbing, asking how? How? Annie looked at Joel for answers. He looked like he had seen a ghost. He let go of her hand, and walked over to the two who were still wrapped in each other, faces full of tears. Joel reached them, and Ellie let go. Tess and Joel stood there, staring at each other, his face still pale and in disbelief, hers, hopeful. Joel broke the tension with a bear hug. Tears falling down his face. When the hug broke, he kissed her.

He kissed her. On the lips. Passionate. Raw. Desperate.

He kissed her, right there in front of the mess hall, where half the townspeople were watching.

He kissed her.

Annie felt numb. Tommy and Maria stood there, frozen. Maria kept looking at her but was at a loss for words. Annie couldn’t move. She watched. She watched as Joel kept on kissing Tess fiercely, and the woman reciprocated just as much. When they finally broke, they were breathless, smiles all around. They grabbed Ellie and had a group hug. Tommy began to tell Annie who that woman was, but Annie already knew, finishing his sentence for him. The three turned and walked down the street, still in each other’s arms, Joel’s wrapped tightly around Tess’s waist, the other around Ellie’s shoulder.

Joel did not look at Annie.

A month went by, Tess had settled well it seemed. She stayed with Joel and Ellie. She was very popular, indeed. She was tough, but friendly. She had been around people all her life, so making friends came easy for her. She and Joel walked Ellie to school every morning, after having breakfast in the mess hall as a trio. They then spend the whole day on patrol together, coming back in time for a family dinner with Tommy and Maria. Tess’s arrival was the talk of the town. The town accepted Tess like she was the prodigal son, returned from some bad ass adventure to complete the first family of Jackson.

Annie waited for Joel to come to her. Say goodbye to her. Explain to her. But he never did. Neither did Ellie. Annie understood why Joel had to stay with Tess. He told her about his regrets after all. She was sure that if it had been her, she would have done the same. That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. She didn’t need an apology. But a goodbye would have been nice. A closure of sorts, and then perhaps they could go back to being her people. But that never came. Tommy gave her some awkward smiles every now and again. Maria was the only one who talked to her often, but it was mostly at the library or the warehouse, mostly about work. One day, as Annie was giving Maria the weekly report on the stationery stock at the warehouse, her words stopped. Maria went to the window to see what she was looking at. Joel, Tess and Ellie, walking side by side, arms around each other as usual, laughing at something Ellie said. Annie’s heart felt heavy. Maria put her hand on her shoulder, a look of sympathy on her face.

“Please understand, they are a family”, she said.

Annie didn’t answer. Maria went on to explain that they had history, a connection from the start. How they thought she was dead, but she had magically survived. They swore to never take another moment for granted, to live their lives to the fullest. Joel and Ellie just didn’t know how to tell her, but she was sure they felt bad about it. They will come and talk to her one day, she said. She was sure of it. Just give them some time.

Annie remained quiet. She didn’t tell Maria how she waited for Joel to come. How she longed for a proper goodbye. How the women in town now sneered at her – dumped like yesterday’s garbage without so much of an explanation. She didn’t tell Maria how she received unwanted visitors now, women who berated her and threatened to kill her for their husbands’ unwanted advances on her during patrol. She didn’t tell Maria how she had started talking to herself again. She didn’t tell Maria that she was lonely. She didn’t tell Maria that she had been out with a terrible cold for almost a week, and despite her absence from her places of work, no one came to check on her. There was no use in telling her. She was alone. She will always be alone.

When another month passed and there was still no sight of Joel, Annie felt herself resenting the loneliness that quilted her. It was suffocating. It was all she could think about. She found herself in a familiar rut, except this time she had the knowledge of what it was like to have people. Being lonely when she didn’t know better was fine. But being lonely now, it was draining her quickly. And being lonely when there are people around her, especially those who she thought were her people – people who quickly decided she was not worth their forever after, or even the courtesy of a goodbye, pulling the rug of comfort from underneath her just as she began to settle on it – was unbearable.

She was on a supply run one day, on foot, along with Tommy, Maria, Joel and Tess. Maria thought bringing her along would be good, since they had planned to check out a nearby library for books for the school. She had to watch as Joel and Tess walked side by side, comfortable with each other, talking and laughing quietly among themselves, neither sparing her a look. Tommy and Maria were the same, save for some pitiful looks from Maria, and some very uncomfortable glances from Tommy. When the clickers came, the two couples moved in sync with their partners. Each having an eye out for the other. Having each other’s backs.

Annie was on her own. No one was there to watch her back, despite being in a group. While she was perfectly capable of taking care of the clickers herself, she couldn’t help but envy Tess when Joel pulled the last clicker off of her and finished it brutally before turning to her and checking for bites and injuries, a worried look on his face. She turned around, maybe to give them privacy, or maybe because she couldn’t handle the way her heart clenched at the sight. It didn’t help. In her new line of sight, Tommy was checking on Maria, just as Joel was on Tess. Annie felt blood trickling from her nose, an unfortunate consequence of falling on her face when she was surprised at the beginning of the attack, but no one was checking on her. So, she walked a little further to a small creek, wanting to wash her face off the blood that had now started to gush rather than trickle.

But a series of clicking made her stop in her tracks. She turned to see a clicker not 10 yards away from her, unaware of her presence thanks to the bubbling sounds coming from the water. She saw Joel in her periphery, quickly warning him to stay silent. Noticing the clicker, he raised his gun, only to realize he was out of bullets. Annie raised her own gun, one bullet left in the chambers. Tess appeared out of nowhere, her feet snapping a twig on the ground. The clicker reacted, ready to attack her. Tess was frozen in place. Annie fired at the clicker, hitting its shoulder. It turned and flew at her, landing right on top of her, mauling her shoulder and neck before another gunshot rang and the clicker fell off her.

Annie couldn’t move. Couldn't breathe properly. She could feel the cordyceps travelling through her bloodstream, the sound of the stream somehow muted by a loud gurgle in her ear, loud and frothy. Tess had shot the clicker. Tess had tried to save her. Suddenly she realized she didn’t feel scared. She looked at the sky, her mind going through the seven months of her 39 years on this earth where she had people. When she belonged. Happy. And now, as she was leaving, she didn’t feel that alone.

Joel and Tess came into view, the gun in her hand still smoking. Tommy and Maria came running, guns ready. None of them said anything once they saw the bloody bites on her neck and shoulder. Annie looked at Tommy, who turned the other way. Maria looked at her, a small smile on her lips, eyes full of attempted comfort. Tess looked… sorry? But she looked away too quickly for Annie to be sure. Annie focused her sight on Joel. She didn’t try to get up. She couldn’t read the expression on his face. But as he took Tess’s gun from her hands, Annie thought, or maybe hoped, she saw something resembling a glimmer of regret? Sadness even?

When he aimed the gun at her head, she saw for sure that he had tears in his eyes, before he closed them, turned his head the other way, and pulled the trigger.

Loneliness turned into nothingness.

JOEL

Joel stopped moving. Something in his periphery seemed suspicious. When Tommy reached his side, Joel stopped him. They had just walked this path yesterday. Joel was sure that the lump he and Tommy were looking at right now was not there then. They decided to approach, cautiously creeping towards it, guns out and ready. The lump was mostly covered by snow, but the grey and black cloth sticking out here and there caught his attention. Tommy went closer, Joel watching his back in case anything happened. There was nothing on the route, usually flat and clear from their patrol trails, except this lump.

When Tommy cursed and told him it was a person, Joel told him to make sure they were unarmed, or not dangerous. Tommy poked and prodded lightly at the person, and actually thought they were dead. When they pulled the jacket that was covering the person, Joel saw what he thought was a young girl. She was practically blue, and looked so emaciated, as if she hadn’t had anything to eat in weeks. Tommy dropped to his knees beside her, took his gloves off and checked her pulse. He couldn’t feel any. Rather than just move her, they decided to bury her, just for the humanity of it all. As Joel lifted her slightly frozen body, she moved, and a small whimper escaped her.

Joel almost dropped her from the shock.

They immediately decided they should take her back to Jackson. Joel had her laid against him on his horse, his heart clenching at how light she was, how weak, unable to sit by herself without support on the horse. Tommy ended up having to pass her to him like a parcel for both of them to be on the horse. Joel’s heart wept throughout the two hours journey, for she was constantly, weakly crying from the pain that the horse’s movements caused her, her bones too brittle, her muscles too weak and out of use to respond. She ended up spending her first ten days at the infirmary mostly sleeping, only waking long enough to eat the small amounts of food that her shrunken stomach could take several times a day, IV drips continuously rehydrating her poor worn body.

Joel found himself unable to stay away. His thoughts were always on her. Had she been alone? Was she captured? Did someone torture her? Will she be alright? He spent his free time at her bedside, but slipped away whenever she stirred, worried that his presence might scare her. If she had been tortured, having a big, unfamiliar man such as himself next to her bed might be traumatizing, and he didn’t want that for her.

Ellie came to keep him company sometimes, curious as to why Joel had taken such an interest on this new person. The truth was, he didn’t even have an answer for that. Was it because he felt responsible? Maybe he didn’t want someone else to die on his watch? Maybe because he saw Sarah, Ellie, or even Tess in this person? As the days passed, the new patient’s face grew fuller, her body cleaner and slowly filling up, and it became apparent that she was attractive. Ellie started teasing him – ooh… no wonder you wanted her here, Mister Joel we-cannot-trust-people Miller, complete with a mockery of his voice. Joel rolled his eyes and gave her a stern look, but wondered if the little precocious girl was right.

When she was strong enough, Maria asked the woman a few questions. They learned that she had been alone, only joining groups whenever she ran into one, but often left alone again. They learned that the isolation meant she had no idea how much time had passed since the world ended. They learned that she had just turned 18 when the outbreak happened, although she certainly did not look 38. They learned that her name, was Annie.

When Annie was released from the infirmary, Joel took it upon himself to make sure she was doing all right. He made sure Maria housed her in a small cottage at the end of the town, not far from his own place. He and Tommy went by every day for a week, fixing whatever needed fixing and making the place livable. Ellie and Maria sent supplies – blankets, clothing, toiletries, even basic grocery needs – so she could start her new life in Jackson.

Joel watched Annie from afar that first week. He saw that she went to the mess hall for breakfast in the mornings, spent a better part of her day working at the library before spending some time helping out at the storage warehouse. She kept to herself, though. She ate alone, worked alone, and went home alone. Joel felt like a creep for watching her like this, but for some reason he couldn’t bear to tear himself apart from her. He needed to know how she was doing. So, he sent Ellie, Tommy and Maria her way, making sure she had everything she needed. Ellie had even taken to visiting her at work after school just to keep her company. It made his heart swell with pride, his little girl being so considerate of Annie.

For his part, Joel did not approach her still. Instead, he went around to her little cottage and made sure she had what she needed. He chopped wood for her. Fixed her squeaky doors and windows for her. Once, he had fallen through the rotten step on her front porch as he was trying to place firewood on it. He fixed it before she came home.

Since he settled in Jackson not six months ago, Joel had never been aware of the looks he received from the ladies. He was basically their eye candy. When Tommy brought this to his attention, he dismissed the idea. Twenty something young ladies swooning over an old man like him indeed, what a ridiculous notion. What he did not realize was that this was true. They would find any excuse to talk to him. Every time he went to the shops for groceries, the ladies managing them would slip in extras for him, supposedly because he had a young charge to feed, and growing little girls need nourishment. He didn’t need the extra fruit and bread and the likes, the usual supply more than enough for him and Ellie. So, he began dropping off the extras to Annie, knowing that she was still too shy and uncomfortable to go to the shops to get her own. He took the opportunity to find her around town to give them to her, or sometimes passed them to Ellie to make sure she got them.

Whenever Joel went on supply runs, Joel looked out for things Annie would need. A warm winter jacket, gloves, scarves, anything at all. There was a mall near-ish to Jackson the patrol visited a lot. Usually, Joel would just collect what he could and send them straight to the warehouse after. But these days, he would select things that he thought would suit Annie the most, and then gave them to her by hand while at the warehouse. Joel also found himself lingering after his job was done, waiting for Annie to finish her work, and pretended like he just happened to be there when she was leaving. He would just relieve her of whatever she was carrying, and silently walked next to her all the way to her little cottage. When they arrived, he would just deposit the items on her porch, and quietly left.

Joel could not understand it, but he needed to be near Annie. Needed to get to know her better. And despite their encounters always lacking conversation, he was comfortable with her. She made him feel at ease. So, he began asking her small talk questions. And she, in turn, politely nodded, or shook her head in response. Joel found that he didn’t mind. And anytime she smiled at something he said, he could’ve sworn he was floating on air. Over time, Joel and Annie became closer. They would exchange life stories. And Joel, the most private, grumpy, emotionally unavailable person he knew, shared his most intimate stories with her. He told her about Sarah. He told her what he attempted to do upon her death. He told her how hollow he was, how emotionless, how depressed. He shocked himself at this, he had never told anyone about this, not even Tess or Ellie – not directly anyways, and certainly not a few weeks after meeting them, with barely enough words spoken to each other. They had both found out about Sarah through Tommy and Maria respectively. Tommy told Tess about his failed attempt for his life, and he only told Ellie about it to try to make her understand how much she had given him hope. Heck, if Tommy wasn’t there with him during those times, he might not even have told him, his own brother.

He told her about Tess, his regrets about how his relationship with her turned out. He saw Tess as someone to survive with. Someone he could scratch an itch with, cared for, looked out for, but never someone he had deep feelings for. A partner, a business one, with the added benefit. When she died, he felt as if he had used her, knowing that she felt more for him than he did for her, and the guilt made him wonder if he really did just see her as such, or if things would have turned out different had he just allowed himself to love. He had dreams when he first arrived in Jackson, he said, of him, Tess and Ellie settling down as a family. He always woke up convinced he had screwed up, that he was indeed in love with Tess, but it was all too late. He told her that despite his regret, he wasn’t sure if he would ever risk having such attachments to anyone ever again, his fear of losing them and down spiraling again too great a cost for his already fragile mind and heart. But then Ellie managed to somehow make him let his guard down, and now that he was safe in Jackson, with Ellie, Tommy and Maria, he wondered if he could risk his heart again. Perhaps let someone else in.

Joel told her a lot of things he never thought he would tell anyone. He was just very… comfortable with her. In return, Annie told him about her life on the road, about the groups she had joined, those who used her for sex, who left her when she was no longer needed. Those who treated her like trash just because their men looked her way. How she had no one to talk to, except herself. How she gave up, and resigned herself to dying alone, just as she had lived, when Joel and Tommy found her. Joel’s heart ached at her life story. Annie seemed unaware how unconventional her life was – she had grown so accustomed to being alone, being treated badly, that she didn’t see the wrong in those people she had met. To her, that was all just another day.

When he tried to kiss her for the first time, Annie admitted to not knowing what to do, or how to reciprocate. The other men had never done so. It was always a quick in an out, mostly for fear of their partners knowing, her legs spread open while she was sleeping and a hand over her mouth to stop her from screaming, or a quick bend over against whatever was out of the line of sight of the group they were with, again, with a hand over her mouth.

Joel bristled at this. So, he patiently, with her consent, showed her what sex could be like. He was gentle, considerate, and giving. Joel explored her. Touched her. Felt her. Caressed her. All he wanted was for her to feel cherished, so that she didn’t feel like being used for sex. Cared for. Mattered. Important. And most importantly, sated. He didn’t stay, but he made sure to always come back, and not just for sex. He didn’t want her to think that was all he wanted from her. He made sure the sex remained intimate. Special. Eventually, he would hold her close after, and they would talk about nothing and everything. He still did not stay the night. He had Ellie to think about, he told her. She understood.

What Joel didn’t know was that the whole town already knew. In fact, his lack of public acknowledgement of this relationship made her a walking target. His fan club called her a hussy, opening her legs for scraps from Joel when he didn’t even want to be seen in public with her, despite the fact he was seen with her daily. The men leered and stared at her, and their partners hated her, blamed her for their partners’ wandering eyes. When he found out, he kicked himself for keeping her at an arms-length, his decision making her more of a target than she would have been if he had just been more open. So, for the first time since she arrived in Jackson exactly six months ago, he stayed over. He held her, comforted her and apologized to her. He suggested they sit for their meals together from now on. That way, the single ladies would see that he wanted her to be with him, that she wasn’t in some one-sided delusional sexual arrangement with him, the men would know to back off her, and their partners would stop blaming her for their husbands or boyfriends’ roving eyes and filthy thoughts.

Despite their rendezvous turning sexual, Joel kept it private. He still walked her to and from work daily, but he never showed her affection in public. Never sat for meals with her at the mess hall. Never sat with her during movie nights. Never danced with her at parties or gatherings. Behind closed doors, he could not keep his hands off her. But in public, he only watches her from afar, content with allowing Ellie, Tommy and Maria to entertain her and keep her company. Joel noticed that as time passed, Annie opened up more, laughed more, communicated more, got out more. His heart grew in size seeing her so happy.

He wanted to be near her, wanted to shout about their relationships from the rooftop, but he wanted to protect her. Gossip in a small town such as Jackson can be debilitating, and with her looking so much younger than her actual age, Joel didn’t want her to be the target of gossipmongers, that young lady with a creepy old man. So, he kept his distance, in public anyway.

Joel froze.

The next morning, they walked to the mess hall together, her hand entwined in his. They picked up Ellie on the way and were soon joined by Tommy and Maria. Along the way, they chatted, Ellie reading silly jokes from her pun book. Joel was happy to see how happy Annie was. She laughed at Ellie’s stupid pun book jokes, chatted freely with Maria and Tommy, and cuddled up to him like it was the most natural thing to do. Joel thought to himself, this was it. He was finally happy. Settled. Content.

As they were approaching the mess hall, a commotion at the gate drew their attention. The gate was opened quickly, and a woman walked in. She looked worse for wear, her eyes searching her surroundings.

“Tess”, Ellie said.

Ellie ran full speed towards Tess, colliding with her, hugging her tight and started sobbing, asking how? How?

Joel felt his insides freeze. Time ceased to exist. Tess was dead. She died. In Boston. She got bitten, and sacrificed herself so that he and Ellie could escape. How could she be here? But Ellie was hugging her. And she was hugging Ellie back, so it couldn’t be his imagination, could it? His entire body just moved without his control. It was as if he was in a fantasy world, one where he visited almost every night those first few months he and Ellie arrived in Jackson, sleeping safe and sound in their beds at night, where Tess was alive, and he got to do everything he wished he had done before she died. The one where he had allowed himself the possibility of love, where they were a family, and everyone was alright. His feet just moved him towards the two. He held out his hand and touched her face tentatively. Part of her face and neck were scarred, burnt, most likely, but it was Tess. It was definitely her.

“Hi Joel”, she said, her eyes full of hope that he would recognize her, and happy to see her there.

This must be a dream. Surely, he was dreaming. He was touching her. If this was a dream, this was the realest dream he had ever had. He hugged her. Her scent overwhelmed him, it was so familiar, so real, yet so surreal. He thought of the last time they saw each other, how she was screaming at him to leave, how she wouldn’t let him near her, how he wished they could have one last kiss.

So, he kissed her. He poured all his regret and guilt into that kiss. He forgot where he was, he had forgotten since he saw her. All he could think of was Tess, and that she was here, and that she was alive, in his arms, kissing him. He can make things right. Everything he had spent months of sleepless nights thinking and dreaming about could come true now. He was high on that dream. Tess was back. When he broke the kiss, he looked at Tess and Ellie’s faces, both wet from tears, and knew his own was too. He pulled them both into a hug and turned around to bring them home.

The moment he got Tess showered and fed, the three of them sat in the living room, all curled up together. She told them how her sleeve caught fire during the chaos, and out of fear and pure panic, she ran out, frantically trying to put out the fire licking at her arm, neck, and parts of her face. She was thrown away from the building when the blast happened, and woke up the next day, burns all over her. She realized that she hadn’t turned, and that the fire must have burnt her infection off. Her injuries made it slower to move, but eventually she got to Frank and Bills, and spent some months alone, recuperating with the supplies they had before making her way to Jackson.

When they had sex that night, Joel thought to himself, this was a good dream. This could not be real. So, he savored it, letting Tess bounce on him as usual, making up for lost time, before they both fell asleep content, Joel wishing he would never wake up from this dream.

Except he did wake up. The next morning. And Tess was still there sleeping soundly. Joel felt as if something was not right. What was it? Hearing Ellie’s alarm clock down the hall snapped him out of his wondering. He got dressed, careful not to wake Tess, and went downstairs to prepare something for Ellie. She came down, sat in front of him, looked at him with hesitant eyes and asked:

“So, what are you going to do about Annie?”

Shit. This was not a dream. This was real.

Fuck. Annie.

Joel’s insides froze. Annie. He was with Annie. He was holding her hand when he saw Tess. And he let go… to kiss Tess full on the lips… in front of Annie. And then he just… left her there.

Fuck.

Joel knew immediately how much he had fucked up.

He needed to go to Annie. He had to explain.

But explain what exactly?

‘Hi baby, I’m sorry I let go of your hand, but I was out of my fucking head cause I thought I was seeing a ghost and then when it turned out she wasn’t one I kissed her full on in front of you cause I was glad she was alive, left you there, and then cheated on you’????

Doesn’t seem like the best excuse. Ellie was still staring at him, expecting an answer. His mind was blank. There was nothing he could think of that would excuse his appalling behavior.

“Dude, you need to tell her something. Are you breaking up with her? Or are you telling Tess about her? But you need to do something. Figure out what you want,” she said. As if he didn’t know that. Although annoyed that he was being schooled by a 15-year-old, he couldn’t help but feel ashamed of himself.

As he walked Ellie to school that morning, she told him what she thought of this situation. She thought Joel would be much happier with Annie. Annie was the person he chose, not the person he happened to work well with out of some desperate situation, regardless of how long he had known the ladies. Although she was glad Tess survived and was in Jackson with them, she didn’t think Tess was what he needed. Annie brought softness in him, calmness. His nightmares stopped after Annie came into his life. And while she didn’t know Tess for long, she doubted that Tess brought those things out of Joel. But of course, it’s his decision. But he needed to make one. Walking home from school, he was joined by Tommy and Maria, who, annoyingly, parroted the same sentiment Ellie did.

They had a point. He was a changed man with Annie, for the better, and everyone could clearly see it. She calmed him, soothed him. When they were on the road with Tess, his sleep was interrupted with nightmares of Sarah. When he thought Tess died, they began to intersperse with visions of Tess burning and telling him she loved him. When they got to Jackson, that changed into the fairytale happy family which nightmarish quality was crudely brought to reality every time he woke up, leaving him in doubts and guilt, every time.

“I hope you won’t be too turned off by these”, she said, gesturing at the visible burn marks on her face, neck and shoulder. “I cannot believe Jackson is real. I am aware that you and Ellie have your own lives now, but I guess we can give being a normal couple a shot now, huh? A real shot at happiness? Be a family? The three of us?”

Those nightmares stopped completely when he met Annie. Those of Sarah, of Tess. No more nightmares. Rested. Only deep, peaceful sleep, even when she was not in his arms at night. He liked this new version of himself. He needed to tell Tess the truth before going to Annie to beg for her forgiveness.

When he got home, Tess was waiting for him. Her hopeful face lit up when she saw him. As they were drinking their morning coffee, Joel braced himself to tell her about Annie. But Tess spoke first.

Joel was tongue-tied. The guilt that haunted him before came rushing back, despite the logic that filled his heart moments ago. He had often wondered what his true feelings for her were, and now he had the chance to find out. Shouldn’t he give it a shot so he would know once and for all and be done with it? Annie would understand, he just needed to tell her, and explain everything. After all, she was aware of his feelings and unresolved questions regarding Tess.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s give it a shot”.

The smile that lit up Tess’s face made him think he had made the right choice.

When Ellie came home from school and learnt of the decision, she didn’t look too pleased, but hugged Tess anyway. Joel thought he saw the smile on Tess’s face faltered, only to be turned back on. When Tess went to shower, Ellie asked him what about Annie? Joel explained his side of the decision, promising to tell Annie about it. Ellie shook her head disappointingly but hugged him in support anyway. Tommy and Maria did not look too pleased when Tess told them the news either, but smiled and hugged her, welcoming her to the family anyway. Like Ellie, they quietly warned Joel to talk to Annie. To not abandon her fully. Joel was starting to get exasperated by all this meddling, talking to him as if he was a child who needed reminding.

That evening, while Maria was showing Tess around town, Joel went to the warehouse to talk to Annie. But as he was approaching the door, Maria and Tess were on their way out, and he saw Annie inside, head down, looking forlorn, trying to be strong, having been introduced to Tess face to face for the first time. The look on her face hurt him. He was the cause of that. Gone was the smile that had only begun to grace that face these few weeks ago, a slight downturn of the quivering lips replaced it, as if to stop herself from crying. Tess hugged him tight, thinking he was there to walk her home, and gave him a kiss. When he looked through the window, all he saw was Annie rushing away, looking as if she was crying.

Tomorrow, he thought. He will find her tomorrow. He had to talk to her. He must.

But during those few weeks, Tess did not leave Joel alone at all. She was with him wherever he went, some parts of the bodies always connected, at her insistence. It was as if she was nervous that she would be turned away, chased out of Jackson if she wasn’t with him, or that he would float away from her. She insisted that being with him was the only way the town would accept her quickly, because she was with Joel Miller. He couldn’t get away. He contemplated telling her about Annie just so he could go see her, but Tess’s newfound insecurity about the burns on her body made him think that she would not take him having a new and stunningly beautiful girlfriend when he thought she was dead well.

A month in, he found Ellie standing in front of the warehouse, looking as if she was contemplating going in, Annie inside, talking to Maria while perusing a ledger of sorts. Joel wanted so badly to go in, but Tess was just behind him, and Joel led Ellie away from the warehouse. As they were walking away, Joel’s hand was on Ellie’s stiff shoulder, walking a few steps ahead from Tess. She caught up with them, and quickly took his other hand and placed it on her hip. She asked Ellie what she was doing in front of the warehouse, and the teenager answered with some horrifically bad joke about looking for rats to feed some younger kids as a prank, laughing uncomfortably while doing so. Tess laughed out loud, and though Joel could tell Ellie was lying, he gave a small laugh anyway. When they got home, Ellie pulled Joel into the backyard, telling him that he needed to speak to Annie soon, as she couldn’t bear to see how sad and alone she was. Even Tommy and Maria couldn’t bear to talk to her about this, afraid that they might say the wrong thing. Plus, this was Joel’s mess to clean up, not theirs. It was not their place. It had to be him, as if he didn’t already know that.

At this thought, Joel was starting to resent Tess’s separation anxiety, and was beginning to see the consequences of his actions. Ellie had stopped talking to them both, resenting Joel’s cowardice, blaming his blind loyalty to Tess for it, only giving short answers when asked. Tess had chalked it to her being a moody teenager rather than ask her what she was angry about. Tommy and Maria stopped talking to them about personal things, only speaking to them when work was concerned. No more dinners together, no more double dates. All three of them making it quite clear to Joel that he was being cruel to both ladies. That he needed to sit down and reflect on what the fuck he was doing. To stop letting guilt eat him up. Tess was alive. She didn’t die, so all the guilt he felt that led to him going along with her needs shouldn’t conquer him anymore. That his indecisiveness and cowardice were making the three of them the bad guys as well. So, make his mind up already, for fuck’s sake.

What Joel didn’t tell anyone was, his nightmares were back. But this time, it was just Sarah, standing in a fenced yard, looking at him sadly. Try as he might, he could not get over the fence. As the weeks went by, she looked sadder and sadder, and over time, her sad expressions turned into disappointment. Joel always woke up feeling like an asshole, a coward, a failure. And he knew exactly why. He knew he had to come clean, but Tess being so vulnerable and self-conscious right now, he needed to be alone to talk to Annie.

But try as he might, Tess was not ready to go solo in her day-to-day business. Every time he tried to even suggest she went off on her own, to be independent, she found some excuse not to do it. Joel was stuck. Every time he saw Annie in town, his heart lurched. She was looking tired, like she had lost some weight and lacked a good night’s rest. She was always alone. Walking or eating with her head down. Joel wanted so badly to go to her, but with Tess there, he had to be careful. They were giving being a couple a shot, so the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Tess, but at the same time, he desperately wanted to talk to Annie, to make her smile again. Heck, he would take her wrath at full blast, would accept her never talking to him again, even a beating or two if it meant she wouldn’t be sad anymore.

That was when Joel really thought of things. After being with Tess for two months in a domestic setting that they could only dream of pre-Jackson, he didn’t feel any different to what he did before. He began to realize that even in an ideal setting such as this, he was never going to see Tess as a life partner.

Personality wise, Tess was strong and dominant, immovable, never taking any nonsense from anyone, and had a grit to her attitude that made people listen. That was why they were so successful back in Boston. She was the mastermind; he was the muscle. They worked well together because of that. But despite caring about her a lot back then, he was never in love with her. Even now, Tess made the decisions in the house. She decided everything, what they eat, which shifts to take, where they go, who they should be friends with. She was determined to make this relationship she had wished they had back in Boston a success, to be seen and known as a couple. To be a real couple. Any time Joel tried to suggest something, she managed to steer him her way, and his guilt-riddled mind would cave.

Being physical with Tess felt… forced. She initiated them. Whether at home or in public, she took his hand to hold, to wrap around her. It was always her who kissed him, and never the other way around. And somehow, these touches felt wrong in his hands. Despite knowing her for so long, holding her hand and having his arm around her waist just felt odd. Awkward. Their arrangement in Boston didn’t lead to those things. Sex still felt like scratching an itch, an act, he realized, he had never initiated since her arrival in Jackson. She would just climb on top of him, get him ready and take and take and take. Despite participating in the most intimate experience two humans can possibly partake in, there was no physical contact apart from the obvious. There was no intimacy. No connection. It was more of a race to orgasms. That kiss they shared upon her arrival was as intimate as they had ever gotten. After, they would just go to sleep. She would spoon him sometimes, but he never felt the need or desire to do that to her. There was never any pillow talk, no heart to heart, no talking about their innermost desires.

Annie, on the other hand, was the complete opposite of Tess. She was soft and submissive, but not necessarily weak. Being alone all those years made her tough and decisive when making choices for herself, but since joining Jackson she was more considerate of others, having realized that she needed to change slightly, now that she was no longer the only person that mattered, that she lived in a society, in a relationship, in fact. Any decision they made as a couple was always made together, and she had never forced her ideas and preferences on Joel, choosing instead to let him move at his own pace, content with what he had been willing to give her. Even now, when he had selfishly distanced himself from her, not once had she forced her presence on him and his family, despite how sad it obviously made her.

Physically, there was no comparison. Their connection was instant, Joel immediately comforted by her mere presence. Joel had never felt the intimacy they had with each other with anyone else. Not even Sarah’s mother, certainly not with Tess. Sex was not sex. It was making love. An equal need, often initiated together, spontaneously, both wanting to please each other, both giving and taking. And before Tess’s arrival, he found himself desperate to hold her after, enjoying the feeling of her body against his, both of them unburdening themselves of their innermost thoughts and insecurities with each other. Her hand in his felt right, as if her hand was what was missing from his own. His hand on her hips or around her waist and shoulder felt like they belong there. Every touch fitting perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle.

The thing that Joel realized was that it was not Tess’s fault. She had not changed. She was the same person she was during their smuggling days. The only difference was that they no longer had to struggle to survive from day to day. They had a nice house, all the amenities they needed, all the food they could eat. And still Joel felt that she was the one making the effort to make this relationship work, as staccato and routine as the relationship was. It was as if she wanted this more than he did. Which was how it had always been. Nothing had changed. Whilst he did love her, he realized now, for certain, that he was not in love with her. She was someone he worked with, and stuck with out of familiarity and need, a mutually beneficial relationship, but it was never love, at least not for him. He had let his guilt take over and ran his life with it.

Whereas Annie was someone he instantly connected with. Maybe it was savior complex, but he was pulled to her from the start, even when she was near death on that track, almost completely covered in snow. Their relationship was not one of convenience. He chose to begin one with her, making the effort to get to know her better, and kept on working to move forward in the relationship, taking small steps to bigger things each time. He opened up to her. And he knew for certain that he would have told her about the new nightmare that was plaguing him. He knew he was in love with her.

Joel kicked himself upon this realization. He was in love with Annie. Not Tess. It was never Tess. He needed to tell Annie, and even if she decided he was no longer worth her time, even if she hated him with all her being, he would respect that. But he could no longer live in this delusion he had stupidly created for himself.

That night, he told Tess that this domestic dream of theirs was not going to work. That they should go back to being friends. Tess looked disappointed but seemed to pull herself together. They gave it a shot, and obviously, his feelings hadn’t changed. She asked if there was someone else. He was truthful, saying that he was with someone when she came back into his life, and that he hurt her when he decided to give the relationship a go. But when Tess asked who the person was, he chose to keep quiet. They decided that he would sleep on the couch until Maria could arrange for another house for Tess, and that they would respect each other enough to remain friends and keep working together if needs must.

The next day, Tess acted no different than usual, no resentment, no tantrums, no emotional breakdowns. They were due to go on a supply run with Tommy and Maria. Joel planned to talk to them both then, about the separation and the need to find Tess another place to settle in. He told Ellie his decision over breakfast, the teenager barely able to contain her elation at the news. It was not that she didn’t like Tess. She just wanted Joel to be happy, and he was much happier and more relaxed when he was with Annie. Joel decided to drop by the warehouse after the run, and walk Annie home, just like he did all those months ago, beg for her forgiveness, and hope for the best.

But when they got to the gate, Annie was there, armed, and ready to go on the run with them. Maria quickly pulled Joel aside and explained the purpose of the trip, and as the person in charge of the library, her eyes would be useful for this run. Resigned, Joel decided to delay his news until they get back – he didn’t want to hurt Tess’s feelings further by announcing their separation in the presence of the woman he was leaving her for. He owed her that much.

They walked at a distance from each other, Tommy and Maria up front, Annie in the middle, and Joel and Tess at the rear, eyes forward, occasionally turning around to watch their surroundings. This was the longest Joel had been in Annie’s presence in the two months they had been separated, and it seemed, as hard as he tried, he could not help himself from looking at her, wishing she would turn around to see her face.

“It’s her, isn’t it? The woman you are in love with?” Tess asked.

Joel couldn’t answer. As much as he wanted to admit to it, he didn’t want Tess to know like this. So, he kept quiet. But his silence was all the answer Tess needed.

“She’s very pretty. Is she nice to Ellie?” she pressed.

Again, Joel kept quiet.

“It’s okay Miller. I get it,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” Joel offered.

“It’s okay Joel. We’ll still be friends. You cannot get rid of me that easily. I came back from the dead, you know?” she joked with a mischievous look on her face.

They both laughed softly, not wanting to make much noise. Joel felt lighter. Somehow, Tess being in the know made it better. Made him hopeful that this would be alright. But for now, he would walk alongside Tess, and do his job.

When the clickers came, their years of fighting off clickers together came into play. It was muscle memory. Working as a duo instead of individually. Every now and again, Joel would look for Annie. She seemed to be doing fine, killing it, in fact, literally. Her moves were practiced and practical, efficiently fending off clicker after clicker, before disposing them with a single gunshot. His attention was pulled back to Tess, a clicker had managed to get on top of her, Tess struggling to fight it off. No, Joel thought. He was not going to let this happen again, no matter what happened between them. He rushed over, pulled the clicker off her, and shot it. He pulled Tess up, and checked her for bites, a force of habit now, ever since he missed the bite she took back in Boston.

Satisfied that she was alright, he looked for Annie, wanting to check on her. He saw her, just disappearing behind some trees. He was quick to follow, ignoring Tess’s calls behind him, silently checking that Tommy and Maria were doing alright on his way. As he turned the corner, he saw her, face bloodied from a nosebleed, standing stock still facing something he couldn’t see. She saw him and put a finger to her lips. Joel raised his gun, aware that there must be a clicker around, its hearing tampered by the sounds coming from the stream. He moved quietly further up and saw the clicker. He pulled the trigger, but nothing but a small click came. He had run out of bullets.

As he was frantically trying to think of how to get Annie to safety without alerting the creature, Tess came into sight, realizing too late the clicker’s presence, and her foot fell heavily on a large twig. The clicker turned to her and snarled, stance at the ready to attack. Tess didn’t move, seemingly frozen to the spot, gun in hand not even raised to shoot. The clicker began to make its move, but before it could, a gunshot rang, and the clicker changed direction.

Towards Annie.

Joel felt as if everything slowed down. Annie took a step back and fell, the clicker getting nearer and nearer. Joel started running towards her, and saw Tess snap out of her trance, raising her gun, aiming at the clicker. Joel thought he saw the clicker bite Annie on the shoulder, eliciting a scream from her. It’s okay, he thought. Tess’s infections burnt off. Maybe they could try that. Tess will shoot the clicker. Everything will be alright.

But no shots came. He saw Tess hesitate. She fucking hesitated. In all the years he had known her, Tess had never hesitated with a shot. The clicker was fully on Annie now. She was using all her might to fend it off. Joel heard her scream.

A blood curdling, full-bodied scream. And then silence, save for the snarling of the clicker.

Joel reached Tess’s side. He snatched the gun away from her, aimed and shot. The clicker fell off Annie, who was now no longer moving. He stared at Tess, who couldn’t meet his eyes. He tossed the gun back at her, before going to Annie, kneeling beside her, refraining from gathering her in his arms.

His heart sank.

She was not only bitten, she was mauled. Chunks of flesh missing from her neck and shoulder, blood gushing from the wide-open artery on her neck. No amount of fire can help her, not without killing her. Joel held her limp hand. It was cold. Too cold.

***graphic descriptions of injuries and killing below ***

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

“Annie, baby? It’s me. Look at me baby. I’m right here. I’m here baby. Please look at me. I love you. Please forgive me. I love you, Annie. I am so in love with you. Please baby. Look at me. Hang on for me okay”, he pleaded, tears pouring down his face.

Annie did not respond. It was as if she couldn’t hear him. Her breathing was ragged, frothy, gurgled - each stricken breath pumping more blood out of her neck.

Tommy and Maria arrived, both in disbelief at what they came to face. Joel kept pleading for Annie to look at him, but to no avail. Her eyes focused on the sky. She didn’t look scared. In fact, she seemed at peace. As if she knew this was it. Joel held her jaw, careful not to move her, and she seemed to come out of a trance, eyes looking at Tommy, and then Maria, and then Tess. Tommy turned around. Tears wet on his cheeks. Maria struggled with her own tears, trying hard not to scare Annie. And Tess… Tess looked… guilty.

Joel saw her beautiful brown eyes turning cloudy. The hand he was holding now starting to twitch. The infection was coming and coming fast. He had to end this. He squeezed her hand, leaned in and whispered that he loved her one more time, that he was sorry, and kissed her temple. Not that it helped. Her eyes were still looking around, searching. He stood up, his chest heavy with regret, already mourning the inevitable. He took the gun out of Tess’s hand. And that’s when he saw Annie’s eyes finally fixed on him. The eyes that he had missed so much, but had stupidly avoided these last couple of months, because he was too cowardly, too in his own head with his own dilemmas and indecisiveness to face them. And now that he had finally made up his mind, ready to forge a life of happiness with them, those eyes were closing for good. He had to do it. Before those eyes turn into the red, cold, snarling ones of the enemy. He had to do it, so he could remember her like this.

And so, with her beautiful eyes fixed on him, he tearfully looked at them one last time, and took his aim. But for the life of him, he found that he could not do it. So reluctantly, he closed his eyes, turned his head the other way, and pulled the trigger.

AFTERMATH

The walk back to Jackson was uncomfortably silent. Joel walked alone up front, not wanting to be with anyone. Tommy had his arms around Maria, who was quietly sobbing. Tess in the rear, her face unreadable.

Joel buried Annie by the river, not accepting help from anyone. His hands all bloody from the branches he used to dig a shallow grave, before picking Annie up to finish the deed. He held her close for ages, shoulders shaking with silent sobs for his lost love. He worked silently, not looking at anyone.

Behind him, Maria and Tommy were questioning Tess about what happened. When Tess told them, a strangely quiet, yet deafening whispered shouting match ensued, worried that more clickers might be nearby. Tess readily admitted she hesitated on the shot – afraid to shoot Annie by mistake. Tommy blew at her, accusing her of letting Annie die on purpose so she could have Joel to herself, Maria attempting to calm him down. Tess swore up and down it was an honest mistake. It was quite a sight.

When Joel had placed Annie in the grave, Tommy and Maria paid their respect, but when Tess attempted to do the same, Joel held her back, and asked her if she did it on purpose.

“I swear on my life Joel. No. I didn’t,” she said.

Tess squatted by the grave, and quietly said something to Annie. When she stood up, Joel looked at Annie’s beautiful face one last time, covered it with his jacket, and buried her. He placed some river rocks on her grave and left. No one said anything to him, and that was how it was all the way to Jackson.

When the gates opened, Ellie was there waiting for Joel, an eager look on her face, wondering if he had talked to Annie yet. When Annie was nowhere to be seen, she clocked the somber looks on everyone’s faces, and started panicking. She kept asking Joel where she was. Joel didn’t answer. He didn’t even stop. He kept walking. Tess and Maria held Ellie and before long she was screaming at Joel, telling him this was all his fault. He’s the reason she was dead. Tommy pulled her to him, and she crumbled, screaming that she didn’t get to say goodbye, and it was all Joel’s fault. She screamed that he was a coward, a cruel, heartless bastard for what he did to Annie.

Tess stood there, taking all this in. She had no idea this was all going on, and that these three were in the know about Joel’s relationship with Annie. Suddenly the gravity of her arrival made sense to her, and she felt like someone who was thrown into the deep end of a pool she didn’t even know existed. She ran to the house she had shared with Joel and Ellie, but Joel was not there.

She must have worn it every night since he left. His scent completely gone from it, replaced by the sweet ones of hers that he missed so much. For the first time since Sarah, Joel wailed. The amount of regret he felt was unbearable. He would do anything, give anything to take it all back, to turn back time to their happy days together. He would never have let go had he known the amount of pain he would be in. He laid on her bed, surrounded himself with her, and sobbed himself to sleep.

Joel did not go home. Instead, he kept walking, until he was faced with the little cottage he hadn’t visited since Tess’s arrival. Annie had started a small garden. Flowers and herbs everywhere, making the cottage look idyllic, fairy-tale-like. He walked in and was immediately greeted by her scent. The cottage looked different, little touches of Annie that he was familiar with, and yet had not seen. He saw a glimpse of Annie’s solitary activities, done to fill her time in his absence. A handwoven rug here, a new painting there. Some new pottery decorated the shelves, a couple still drying by the windowsill, and a half-made scarf on her favorite armchair. He went into her bedroom. His heart sank at the sight of his flannel on her pillow. He had left it there the morning after he stayed over that day. He picked it up and brought it to his face.

It smelled of her.

Weeks passed. Joel hadn’t returned home. No one had seen him around Jackson. Tommy, Maria and Ellie took turns sending him food at Annie’s cottage, which remained clean and well-maintained. Joel had not sat idle. He was determined to keep her memory alive, at least for himself. But he still had not spoken to anyone. They tried, oh how they tried to talk to him, but he moved about his activities as if they were not there. Tess had tried to visit, but every time she approached, Joel went into the house and slammed the door.

At his house, Ellie had been avoiding Tess at all costs. Tommy told her what happened, and she very openly blamed Tess for Annie’s death. Neither her nor Tommy was speaking to Tess, and the rest of the town, well, the fire of gossip made it worse. She was the scorned woman who got dumped by Joel Miller and made sure he didn’t have the woman he loved to go running back to, not that they were brave enough to say that to her face. As much as they town loved to talk, Tess was still a formidable woman, and no one dared cross her. Maria, it seemed, was the only friend Tess had left, telling her to give them all some time.

It all came to a head one day when Tess tried again to speak to Joel. Tommy, Maria and Ellie were there, helping Joel tend to the small garden of herbs Annie had planted. Tommy and Ellie began yelling at her to go away. And that was when Tess lost it.

“You know, until the day she died, I wasn’t even aware of this whole drama. She was just the nice lady who worked at the library and warehouse to me. No one told me. And now she’s gone it’s all my fault?” she said, eerily calm for someone who had lost her patience.

“It is not my fault you agreed to give us a try, Joel. It’s not my fault that you were too cowardly to tell me the truth, and too fickle and fucking undecisive to follow your own heart. And you two, Tommy, Ellie. It is not my fault that you two decided to ignore her during those times. And you know what? It is not Joel’s fault either. Both of you could’ve just remained friends with her and kept her company. Heck, Maria did. And yet, you two CHOSE not to, because it would make YOU uncomfortable. And now that she’s gone and you feel guilty for treating her like shit, you want to blame ME??? Blame Joel???” she continued, her voice raised slightly.

“I am done being quiet about this. I am sorry I hesitated to take the shot, because I couldn’t bear to think that I might have killed the love of Joel Miller’s life. I replay that scene in my head all the time. Would I have done anything different knowing what I know now? Maybe. But can I do anything about it? No!!! do I feel guilty that she died as a direct result of my hesitance? Yes. I do. Okay? I lay awake at night wishing I could take it back, but I can’t. So, I have to accept that I will live with this guilt every single day of my life, but guess what? I will live with that because I own up to my mistakes. You know why? Because I am an adult. So, I am done being held accountable for what you three CHOSE to do to spare yourselves some discomfort. Take responsibility for your own actions damn it. Grow up!”

With that, Tess took a very deep breath, and very calmly turned around, and walked off. Joel walked into the cottage and shut the door. Tommy and Ellie looked as if they had been slapped across the face. They slowly put down the tools they were using and walked home.

That night, Joel had another nightmare. Annie and Sarah were sitting in that same fenced yard, having delicate sandwiches and tea, laughing and chatting freely. Their faces were so light, so calm, so happy. Joel longed to join them but couldn’t. Each time he got over a fence, another one appeared, and no matter how much he yelled at them to let them know he was there, they couldn’t hear him. He was on the outside looking in on the two people he had loved the most. The two people he had lost and grieved for. He woke up sweating, feeling their loss all over again, his heart heavy with guilt and remorse.

As the weeks went by, Tommy and Ellie kept up with their routine of visiting Joel. Both muttered their apologies to him for blaming him for their silence towards Annie. Joel didn’t respond. Tess hadn’t attempted to visit again, giving Joel some space, but Maria told Joel that Tommy and Ellie had started communicating with her again, albeit awkwardly.

One day, just as Joel shut the door behind him after a day of cleaning the yard and chopping some wood, a gentle knock on the door came. He didn’t answer, but he heard someone settle against the door. Tess’s voice came through.

“Joel, I accept if you never want to speak to me again, if you see me as the reason for your treatment of her. There is nothing I can do about that. I need you to know that I did not mean for her to go. Joel, I have always known you don’t feel the way I do. I cannot force you to love me. I just wish you would’ve told me about her. I would’ve understood. And now…” she trailed off.

“Maria told me of the old farmhouse at the end of the Jackson perimeter. I just came here to tell you that I am moving there today. I think that’s better for me, you know? The town seems friendlier now, but I feel like this is for the best. But if you ever need a friend to talk to… Even if we don’t work as a couple Joel, I will always care about you, and I hope you feel the same for me at least.”

“Joel, I know what it feels like to kill the love of your life. When my husband and son turned… I had to… so I know… you know this. Don’t let this be the reason you stop living Joel. The guilt will never go away, but if you try, perhaps one day it won’t consume you the way it does now. She’s gone. Sarah’s gone. But you are still here. Find your purpose Joel. Ellie needs you. Tommy needs you. The town needs you. So, heal Joel. And when you are even a little bit better than you are right now, join the world again. I didn’t know her apart from the small exchanges here and there, but from what I’ve been told, she seemed like a sweet person. She wouldn’t want you to live like this, I’m sure of it. Because she loved you. And you don’t want to see the people you love sad forever, Joel. Just… think about it. I’m so sorry things didn’t turn out better. But, if you need an old friend, you know where to find me.”

With a small grunt, Tess got up and left, her backpack on her shoulders.

After she left, Joel resigned himself to the fact that he would never again be as happy as he was, that his sleep would forever be plagued with Annie’s happy face that would never acknowledge him again. That his heart would never be full again. That he would be punishing himself for his cowardice forever. He knew that. Joel had made his bed in the most fucked up, cowardly, selfish and emotionless way. There was nothing for him to do, except lie in it.

So, Joel lived alone, with his own thoughts, living but dead inside, forever mourning for his love. And that’s the way it went for Joel Miller.

***

In the small town of Jackson, there was an abandoned house, a once idyllic, fairy-tale-looking cottage at the end of the row of houses. Rumor had it, a grumpy, moody and gruff old man called Joel Miller lived his last years there, mourning the life he let slip through his fingers. Every day, Joel Miller would tend to his garden, go out on patrol, go tend to people’s houses when they need fixing, and go back to this cottage to spend the rest of his evenings sitting on his porch. Sometimes, his brother Tommy and daughter Ellie would come join him, their children in tow. Although Joel spared smiles for his nephew and grandson, the rest of the town never saw him smile. Ladies offered themselves to him, only to be rebuffed. They said that he broke a lady’s heart once, and she died before he could confess his true feelings for her.

[gliphyartfan]

Good morning, afternoon or evening.

I'm not usually one to ask for anything, you know that well, but today...

Today I woke up curious, and I came to ask, if you have, any headcannon of the other links. Sage/Tears,Calamity/soldier,Koridai, Courage, First and maybe also about Shadow...that art of Dree left me thirsty for Four emo.

*inhales*

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE (⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠෴⁠ ⁠༎ຶ⁠)

—Double Anon

Alright alright! I hear you! Took forever to search for my old discussion about them

and at the end of the day, I just asked Yandy and Dree to hand in what we talked about. (Thank you my lovely dears, I always adore you~)

Anywho (sorry for it’s all over the place!)

So here are those headcanons!

- Courage was a street rat who earned a name for himself by using his street smarts to provide for himself. He was noticed by the royal family and initially hired to be a guard in the Castle. After learning Courage is the hero he left to travel and adventure.

- Korodai was similarly poor and orphaned but worked his way up through the Church of Hylia, not taking any serious vows but still training to be the Hyrulian equivalent of a monk who can kick ass(so like a knight for the church). He was still pretty goofy and silly though in spite of his intelligence.

- The people in the church learned he was the hero and sent him to the Royal Family where he continued his training. Korodai’s journey in “Faces of Evil” is his first official journey.

- Courage is incredibly strong, similar to Twilight except even moreso. People don’t really see this coming because of his lackadaisical and unserious nature, they don’t expect him to actually be that powerful.

- Because of his history on the streets, Courage never knew how to properly interact with nobility and royalty, which is how his “love-hate” relationship with Wisdom(his Zelda) started. He was attracted to her but she didn’t like how he had no manners and thus started the cycle.

- Both Korodai and Courage are exceptionally clever and resourceful.

(….And if one is around, so is the other. They are a duo! )

——-

Im sure Calamity/Soldier (I call him Cal) is very much the silent stalker yandere.

I feel like he can’t feel himself being able to fit in with the chain.

Because all of them are heroes, but the Master Sword doesnt even answer to him.

Or at least hasn’t said a word.

Basically all of these guys around him are accomplished but well, him? He’s not so special. The only way he knows how is to be darling's shadow.

And therefore follow them and around?

Maybe he’s learned some manners being the princess' guard, so he treats darling like royalty and their word is law hahaha.

———-

Sage? Overprotective to the max.

If Sage is Wild but hasn’t met darling until his third adventure, I think he would be very willing to see darling as a goddess easier.

In his eyes, she’d be unlike anyone he’s ever known. This reverence might show in small ways, he’s always gentle with her, speaks to her with the utmost respect, and sometimes catches himself just watching her in quiet awe, as if he can’t believe she’s real.

Cuz Darling would be like a breath of fresh air for him since everyone around him took advantage of him or only cared about him being the hero.

he’d also have possessive streak that he keeps under tight control, but any hint of jealousy unleashes it. If he sees someone getting too close to Darling, he’d be tempted to step in immediately, but hold back with a calm, collected demeanor.

His icy gaze speaks volumes though.

Darling is worth any sacrifice, and he makes it clear that he would do anything to keep her safe, even if it means his own life. (Though (y/n) is definitely working on fixing that mentality if she is aware of it.)

Her presence alone eases the burdens he’s carried for so long, helping him feel grounded and human in a way he hasn’t experienced in years.

After years of being questioned or pushed to his limits, Sage finally finds someone whose judgment he respects without question.

If she tells him to rest or take a step back, he listens, even if every fiber of his being wants to protect her.

Though, he’s the type to stay up until she falls asleep, keeping a silent watch over her to ensure nothing can disturb her rest.

———

First feels like the one who’s more jaded than Legend??? Kinda?

Because compared to Legend, First canonically points out how he’s only used for convenience when he’s really needed.

Hmmm...I personal always imagine First being very soft spoken (well, when he wasn't angered to the point of raising his voice)

Not super soft spoken, not like he’s a fragile person, but very calming to hear.

And he loves every part of her, even if it pains him to see her in any negative/unhappy state.

Would he want to show her the true depth of his loyalty and love? Absolutely.

But he'd also want her comforted and happy.

If she ever drifts off to sleep in his arms, he's whispering all his words to her. All the things he'd held back on saying when she was conscious.

They'd be intense, overwhelming, very very...well...Yandere. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

If she heard it, she'd definitely be frightened by the weight behind it.

But he waits until she's deeply asleep to do so. Maybe a small part of his hoping a small part of her acknowledges his words, even if he'd rather her not be aware what atrocities he'd commit in order to protect her.

First may be jaded, but he keeps his darker thoughts deeply buried. He despises anyone who threatens her happiness, his face a mask of calm while his heart seethes with unspoken rage. (You know how everyone agrees Sky has a scary face when angered? That’s First, he rivals Sky with his scariness except it’s colder.)

Behind the scenes, he’d handle any threat swiftly, never letting it reach her attention.

———

Shadow. He gives me vibes where he likes to cause harm for the fun of it. He enjoys causing chaos and despair and taunts people.

But he also yearns for companionship.

Shadow gets an undeniable thrill from causing chaos. He knows how to push buttons and stoke insecurities, loving the reactions he pulls from people.

But he’d be surprisingly gentle around (y/n), changing his dark sense of humor just a bit to make her smile.

When (y/n) pays attention to someone else, Shadow sulks like a petulant child. He’s prone to shooting them glares, muttering under his breath, and might even playfully (or not so playfully) trip them up just to remind her where her focus should be.

Shadow has no filter around people he doesn’t like, especially if they’re close to (y/n). His sarcasm can cut like a knife, and he won’t hesitate to call them out in the most biting way possible if he senses even a hint of a threat.

Shadow has a talent for inconveniencing others while staying just on the edge of innocence with (y/n). It could be someone’s drink spilling, their cloak tripping them up (or down a flight of stairs), or anything that paints them as awkward or foolish in front of her. He finds it hilariously satisfying.

Shadow wants to be the only one who can make (y/n) laugh, surprise her, or put a smile on her face. If someone else manages to get a genuine laugh out of her, he sees it as a challenge, scheming immediately about how he’ll one up them next time.

He’s not above showing his irritation in front of her if she’s giving too much attention to someone else. A muttered, “What, are they that funny?” or a dramatic sigh as he stands just a little too close, casting glances that all but scream “notice me instead.”

Shadow’s affection for (y/n) is one of the only things that holds him back from outright causing harm.

[mer-se]

convinced February is the worst month of the year ✨horrendous✨ energy hahah goodbye

[phagodyke]

ykw actually I am angry + disappointed w them. I've been pushing how I feel aside and trying to make it my own fault so it's all contained but I think theyve just been mean. and they really should know me better ik I try to pretend I don't expect more from them so I feel less hurt when they do things that upset me but we've been friends for years by this point. like come on.

[schizowitchic]

never leaving the house without makeup on actually because why did i get id'd for a FUCKING ENERGY DRINK today. like i am definitely over sixteen. i look over sixteen. do i only look over sixteen with makeup on? did that one tesco employee not like the look of me? every other employee is like "yeah let me just approve the age for you" and doesn't ask questions. this woman (who literally could not have been much older than me) apparently decides that today i do not look over sixteen. and the only difference is that i did not have foundation etc. on just eyeliner. so like. uh. what was going on there.

[the-physicality]

.

[rieamena]

"mama!"

your seven year old daughter climbed onto your bed, bouncing on the mattress before settling into your warm embrace under the blankets. running a hand through her pink hair, you answered softly, "yes, sweetheart?"

it was almost like your genes didn't put up a fight at all. your child, chikara, was the spitting image of her father, your husband, ryomen sukuna. same hair, same face shape, same facial features, the only thing that seemed to be your contribution was her personality, and even then, sometimes you'll see your husband's characteristic scowl on her little face

"how did you and daddy meet?" "well, it was–"

"what's goin' on in here? conspiring against me?" sukuna's voice filled the room as he leaned against the door frame, a cheeky smirk on his face. you saw your daughter's face brighten up as she jumped down to run to her father, "daddy! daddy! mommy's gonna tell the story of when you first met!" sukuna immediately looked at you, his index finger barely being fully wrapped by his daughter's hand

"she asked me to. guess watching all those romantic dramas with her rubbed off on her." you giggled, earning a scowl from him. "shut it woman. you know i hate them." "yeah..., that's definitely why we watch 90 day fiance every sunday together." "you got a problem with— stop tryna move me brat!"

"but daddyyyyy," she whined, still pushing against sukuna's body, "i don't wanna miss mommy's story!" "we're literally seven feet away from her."

your daughter pouted and stopped trying to get her dad to move. letting go of his finger, and leaving him at the doorway, chikara plopped herself down at your side with wide, eager eyes, "go on, mommy, tell me! i wanna know everything."

you smiled, looking at sukuna, who rolled his eyes but gave a small nod. "alright, sweetheart. it all started one day in the park when i was watching over megumi, and your dad was taking care of his younger brother, yuuji…"

"yuuji?" chikara interrupted, her face lighting up. "uncle yuuji was there too?"

"yep, yuuji was just a little kid back then," you said with a soft laugh. "he was running around, being his usual energetic self, when he tripped and scraped his knee. your dad, being the great caretaker he is—"

"—i was plenty good at it," sukuna muttered

you shot him a look and continued, "—didn't seem too worried. he told yuuji to stop crying."

"i did not say it like that," sukuna cut in, pushing off the doorframe and coming closer to the bed. "i told him to toughen up. gotta learn how to handle a few scrapes."

your daughter giggled, clearly entertained by the back-and-forth. "but mommy's a nurse, so she went over to help, right?"

"exactly. i couldn't just sit there watching, so i went over, knelt down, and started cleaning yuuji's knee. and i told your father—" you paused, giving sukuna a mischievous smile, "—that he should care more about his son instead of telling him to stop crying."

your daughter gasped dramatically, eyes wide with anticipation. sukuna groaned, running a hand over his face. "i knew you'd bring that up."

"and what did daddy say?" she asked, leaning in as if she could hardly wait

"he looked at me and said, 'that's not my son, that's my brother,'" you mimicked sukuna’s low, irritated tone. "i was so embarrassed!" sukuna chuckled at the memory, shaking his head. "you should've seen your mom’s face. all high and mighty, like she was about to call child protection services on me or something."

you couldn't help but laugh, too. "anyway, i patched yuuji up, and to make up for the misunderstanding, your dad suggested we set up a playdate for yuuji and megumi."

"a playdate?"

"yup," you nodded. "though i think your dad might've had other reasons for giving me his number." sukuna scoffed, folding his arms. "that didn’t happen."

you raised an eyebrow at him. "oh? so your eyes didn’t sparkle when i smiled and told you goodbye?" sukuna groaned again, this time louder. "my eyes did not do that."

chikara giggled harder, clearly enjoying the banter. "i think daddy liked you right away!" you smiled softly. "maybe he did. i mean, why else would he take me to a skate park for our first date?" sukuna rolled his eyes. "you said you wanted to learn how to skate. i was just being nice."

"uh-huh. sure," you teased. "and he was so good at it, zooming around, showing off. i'll admit..., he did look kinda cool! i, on the other hand, spent most of the time falling."

"which is why i had to keep catching you," sukuna added, sliding into the empty space next to you on the bed. "mommy fell? did daddy save you?" chikara asked, her face lighting up at the idea

sukuna ruffled her pink hair. "more like i had to stop her from breaking every bone in her body." you rolled your eyes at him. "i wasn't that bad."

"yes, you were," sukuna said, smirking. "you almost took me down with you half the time." smiling at the memory, you leaned in to kiss your daughter's forehead. "but it was fun. and after that, we went out for ice cream, and your dad actually smiled for real that time."

"daddy smiled? really?"

sukuna shot you a half-hearted glare. "i smile."

"not back then you didn't," you teased, poking his arm. chikara turned to her dad, beaming. "i wanna learn to skate, too, just like you and mommy!" sukuna chuckled, wrapping an arm around her

"maybe one day, brat. but you’re probably gonna fall as much as your mom did."

"hey!"

gulp... sorry if sukuna is ooc, im tired and im on my period but i really liked this request so...

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@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @sugurusbaobei @raindropsonrwses

@c-moon20-12 @saltynanobeanie @theamazingrain @synthiiiiis @ghostlyluminarycloud

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@cheesecake95 @strawberry-cherrypie @makeshiftproject @magiamad0ka @ncitygreen

@stillnotherapy @oniondrip @cloudy-yyy @definitely-not-leena @kidd3ath

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@1ndee @yourhornysister @ancientimes @cupcaketeddybehr @tomikixd

@e-dollly

[reverieblondie]

Remember Me?

Pairing: ExNerd!Miguel O’Hara X fem!civillainreader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), , Oral, Cowgirl, Missionary. You and Miguel make a mess...

Summary: Miguel has changed a lot since high school, but one thing remains the same...how he feels about you.

A/N: I have been trying to write about Miguel for weeks now! Every time I get close to finishing something for him I reread it and hate it! So I am posting this before I can change my mind! I hope you all enjoy I tried my best!

Word Count: 6,823

Part 2: coming soon....

“Pfft…I can't believe this is real; this can’t be real!” Gwen keeps repeating to herself, trying to stifle back her laughter. 

“I know! I couldn’t believe my eyes when Peter showed me but here it is!” Miles agrees; Pav quickly slings his arm around Miles for a better look.   

“Take a look at the specks on him. Did you know he needed glasses?” 

“Flip to the club photo. Now, that will shock you all.” 

At Hobies request the teens quickly start flipping through pages. The sound of flipping pages and then the sudden bursting of laughter from the small huddle was something Miguel could no longer ignore. Miguel wasn’t sure why the teens and Peter were in his office. But since the events with the spot and some well-deserved apologies, Miguel, in the teen's words, “Chilled out,” and now they seem to hang out around him more. Meaning they are often now in his office… Miguel, of course, tried to appear as indifferent as possible to this change of pace, though He had to admit it was somewhat nice to have the cheerful ambiance that came with them... Hell, sometimes they could make him chuckle; Miles was actually pretty funny. But, of course, he keeps these things to himself. 

Miguel makes his way to the huddle to see what could possibly be so enthralling. When he sees what's causing their uproar, his blood runs cold, freezing him dead in his tracks.

Is….that…his….yearbook…

It was turned to his picture and plan as the day under his unrecognizable photo was his name. So there was no getting out of this saying it wasn’t him…

“Miguel, is this really you?” Miles questions pointing to the picture. 

“Must be his name right there,” Pav teases, making Miguel groan. This was an actual nightmare. 

Looking over them, Miguel sees the picture they are all questioning; the difference is pretty night and day. A young 17-year-old Miguel was way scrawnier compared to his now bulking physique. His dark brown eyes were hidden behind his thick black-rimmed glasses, the only ones his mother could afford at the time. Miguel's thick, wavy brown hair looks untamed as it hangs down his forehead, threatening to cover his eyes if not for his glasses, the rest hanging loosely down to the nape of his neck. Poor kid was desperate for a haircut. Their cheekbones and jaw were still chiseled, and his face was not yet littered with lines of stress, sleepless nights, and age.  

Hobie quickly grabs the yearbook, vigorously flipping through the pages until he stops on a picture of a young Miguel holding up a mathlete trophy, awkward smile and all. “This is my favorite picture. Do you still smile like that, bruv?” 

“How did you all get this?” Miguel asks in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that will somehow stop his building anger and embarrassment. 

Very aware of the sight of Miguel about to rage out, the young spiders quickly part, pointing the blame to a laughing Peter. Who finally quits his laughing fit as now he is staring into the eyes of a very irritated Miguel, waiting for an explanation. 

Peter nervously clears his throat before speaking, “Wel, uh…do you remember a couple of days ago when you told me to drop off that equipment at your apartment? Well…I happened to see this on your living room bookshelf and thought I would look at it. Then I saw how much you had changed… I figured the kiddos would get a kick out of it…”

Miguel's eyes narrow, and his talons pop out, ready to bounce, but that is quickly escalated by Gwen taking back the yearbook, prepared to negotiate peace. 

“Okay, okay, no need to rip his head off; we will return your book.” Miguel's body relaxes as he sighs of relief, holding out his hand for the book, but Gwen smirks, holding the book back out of his reach, “But, you have to show us your old crush first.” 

Miguel’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, freezing at the terms of the agreement, and everyone else, including Layla, starts oohing. Making Miguel pitch the bridge of his nose again, muttering under his breath, “Esto tiene que ser una pesadilla…” (this has to be a nightmare…) 

Then, to make things worse, they start chanting, “Show us….Show us…Show us! Show us!!”

The chatting became too much, and he snapped, holding out his hand irritatedly for the book. “Fine! I will show you; just shut up!” 

A yay fills the room as Miguel starts irritatedly flipping through the book as soon as it’s laid in his hand. Everyone waits in bated breath until finally landing on the correct page. It's the page he spent the summer before college staring at, the picture he had agonized over. Miguel pauses, taking in the picture, and he feels those familiar feelings rushing up and swelling in his chest…Those high school crushes do hit you hard…

Even after all these years, he still remembers you so vividly; seeing the picture always solidifies for himself as confirmation as to why he had liked you so much. Beautiful and popular, everyone would only have positive things to say, even if your friend group wasn’t as nice. Miguel remembers that sweetness fondly. Though, behind that sweet smile, there was a mischievous side of you; he recalls hearing it hidden in your cooing voice when you would say that pet name during chemistry class… 

“Miggy~”     

The memory warms Miguel's cheeks, but he quickly dismisses the feeling. “There, that's her.” 

The teens quickly grab the book back, climbing over each other to marvel at the picture of the girl the oh-so-scary Spider-Man 2099 had a crush on when he was their age. 

“Wow, she's stunning!” Gwen complements 

Miguel hums in agreement, “Yeah… the prettiest girl in my grade…prom queen, part of the student council, incredibly sweet…, and we took chemistry together…” 

Pav and Hobie shoot Miguel a smirk, and he quickly huffs, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Ever work up the nerve to confess?” Pav questions, ever the romantic. 

The group watches as Miguel closes his eyes, thinking that the blush from earlier is slowly rising to his tan cheeks, making them all gasp in excitement. 

“You did!” They all scream, but Miguel is quick to correct them. 

“Well…technically…I didn’t” 

“What do you mean technically?” Miles prys

Miguel can’t believe he admitted this much, but since he's already down the rabbit hole, he might as well give some more context: “At graduation…I kinda did, then I…ran away…”

A look of shock and confusion fills the teenager's face, but Peter is all grins and is going to give Miguel a high five: “Ah, the mysterious type. Nice.” 

Gwen quickly swats him on the shoulder, earning a whine from the man. 

“Not nice! That is so confusing! You just ran? Did you ever talk to her again?” 

Miguel takes a second to avoid eye contact, stoically starting to the side, before letting out a quiet, “No…” 

There is a collective groan, and Miguel rolls his eyes, trying to contain his high school embarrassment. 

“Can we stop talking about this and return to work now?”

“Have you seen her since?” Miles questions, 

“No,” Miguel answers sharply, irritation coming back up.

“Wha-what! How will you ever win her love if you don’t clear up the misunderstanding and confess your true feelings!” Pav laments, making everyone look at him with a raised brow. 

“Pav, mate…you know how long it's been since he's seen her?” Hobie chides 

Pav shrugs slightly, muttering, “Maybe it could be like a romantic thing…” 

“So wait, You have all the resources and never thought to at least search her out? Aren't you curious?” Gwen prods 

“No, I never thought about stalking my old crush. Now, can we please-” 

“She lives in the city!” Miles' voice calls out, making Miguel whip around.

Miles and Layla stand on Miguel's platform with your picture, info, and social media pulled up on his halo screens. Everyone is quick to web over, including Miguel. Miguel quickly pushes away a beaming Miles as he takes in all your information. He sees where you went to college, where you work, and…

“Ooohhh! She's still single!” Pav beams, looking at Miguel expectancy.

Miguel rolls his eyes as he keeps looking at you, still as perfect as he remembered. Somehow, you seem more confident in yourself, you seem…sexier…

Feelings start rising back to Miguel's chest. He hasn’t seen you in so long, and even your pictures still stir something within him. 

“Wow! This is awesome!” Miles beams, pointing to one of the screens 

Miguel, being too lost in your pictures, hasn’t realized what the teens are yammering about until they all start shaking him back and forth in excitement. Then he finally hears it.

“You can see her at your High School reunion! It's coming up in a couple of weeks!” 

Miguel turns his head to the invitation Layla had pulled up. “You got this a month ago but didn’t think you would be interested…. It looks like you will be attending now, though!” 

Before he can protest, she is RSVPing, and all the teens are hollering in laughter and giving high-fives. Everything is happening so fast that all Miguel can do is stand there in something akin to a trance. That's until Pav comes up to him with a giddy smile, 

“It’s like density!” 

Miguel groans…he wants everyone to get back to work…

They really got him here….How the hell did he let them convince him to come here? They even managed to get him to dress up…

Hair in its usually slick back style, slate gray button down that did little to hide his bulk, and black trousers that he thought appeared too tight but Layla had insisted upon.  

Miguel stands uncomfortably off to the side as people he used to know all gather together, chit-chatting about their lives and reminiscing on the good old days… All while Miguel stays sulking in the corner…Maybe things from high school haven’t changed that much. Well, despite the whole genetic splicing that made him a superhero… Instead of still being the captain of the Mathletes team, he's now the CEO of Aleamax. However, one thing remains the same: When he is in a room filled with all these people from school, his eyes still roam around, trying to find you…

High school had not been kind to a nerd like him. He was 9 inches shorter, and the most important things to him were keeping all A’s, getting into his dream college, keeping up with his favorite comic series, avoiding bullying, and wanting so badly to kiss his crush. 

Miguel vividly recalls all those times in chemistry when you two worked so closely together. Miguel shyly mutters the mixing process while you lean in with stars in your eyes, taking it all in. Miguel never knew if you were interested in what he was saying or if you were trying to get a good grade, but he didn’t care. You still made his cheeks flush and heart race all the same. 

“Then…When-when you add fluid B to A, you will get a fizzing reaction…” 

A shaking Younger Miguel tries to steadily pour in the fluids while you watch, leaning in so close he could smell your sweet perfume and look at your glittery glossed lips. 

“Wow! Miggy, you’re so smart.” Your voice would be like sweet honey praising him, and the mere closeness of you to him would make his body feel like it was going to melt. 

“I keep telling my friends I have the best lab partner…” Miguel feels his throat dry as your hand slowly curls over his forearm. Then the bell rings, and Miguel is flustered, packing his things as you smile sweetly and wave goodbye. 

God, you must have been just messing with him, toying with him, knowing he was like a love-sick puppy for you. The worst part, if this was the case, he would have let you…Miguel would have let you toy and bat away at his heart until you felt content with it fully unraveling to you. Pathic…is that what you thought? Well, if it wasn’t what you thought of him before, it must be what you thought after his pitiful confession…

Miguel thinks back to that night when he last saw you…that all too familiar warmth threatens to take him over, so as he stares down at his drink, he slips back to that moment…

The ceremony had ended, everyone had exited the stadium, and Miguel was taking a second to calm himself in the dark hallway. High school was over, and his life was beginning. He was thinking back on all his decisions for this new chapter. Miguel fidgets with his graduation cap and feels about what awaits him. Then he thinks about the things he missed out on…

Then your face comes to mind…he had vowed to confess; even if you laughed and rejected him, he wanted to get his feelings off his chest. But when it came down to it, he let his shyness get the better of him and let you slip through his fingers without telling you. This was high school? He was sure to like other girls…but why was this eating away at him so much? Why did he feel so sick to his stomach for not doing this… 

The sound of clicking heels fills the corridor, and like fate, you are walking through the hallway back toward him. Miguel adjusts his glasses, unsure if this is some kind of halustion brought on by self-pity, but no… it was you…

As soon as your eyes locked to his, your lips curled to that all too familiar smile, the one that was so sweet. Then your voice rang that teasing nickname you graciously bestowed upon him.  

“Miggy, what are you doing, silly? Hanging out in the dark…Don’t you want to go celebrate?” 

“Oh…... I didn’t plan to go to any parties… just going to go home and get started on some summer reading…”

The smile that curled on your lips was additive as you stepped closer to his slouching form, “hm…Miggy…always so prepared… I’m going to miss seeing you around so much. I’m sure you're the only reason I passed chem!”  

“No…I am sure you will have more interesting people to talk to than a nerd like me…” 

“Maybe I like talking to nerds like you.” 

The statement made Miguel look up to see you so close to him mischive filling your eyes. Leaning in so close to him, he feels like he can’t breathe when he looks at you so close like this…

“You don’t mean that…” he chuckles softly.

Then your index finger lifts his chin, and you look at him with sweet eyes, but your tone is stern, “Don’t tell me what I mean…” 

Miguel feels his heartbeat quicken, and his palms begin to sweat. Before he can return to rational thought, he leans into you. 

He so gently cups your cheek with his nervous hands. Brushing his nose against yours, his shaky breath fanning over your sparkly glossed lips. Then, when your lips finally meet, he isn’t sure who fills the gap. 

The kiss was so sweet, and he held you so gently, but he knew you could feel the shaking of his hands and the heat rushing to his face. Everything around you two seemed to fade.

Eyes shut tightly from falling into the depths of the kiss, he pulls away to breathe. Peeking open his eyes, Miguels sees you are breathless, and your face is burning with a deep blush. You look so surprised... and he doesn't know what to say or how to explain. 

“I’m sorry…I just had to do that once…”

Then he ran off… leaving you alone in that dark hallway, scared of what you would say next…

“Miggy!” 

“Miggy!”

“Miguel?” 

Lost in his thoughts, Miguel failed to notice that one of his ex-classmates had been trying to get his attention. One of them must have finally recognized him. Looking up from his cup, Miguel expects to see one of his old mathlete teammates, but as he finally meets their eyes, he feels his heart stop at the sight. 

Looking up at him with that same sweet smile, you look just like he remembers: completely radiant. Your pictures showed you were still beautiful, but in person, you are the thing he remembers most about you: breathtaking.

“Miguel, that's gotta be you… Do you remember me?” -How could he not remember you?

Miguel feels himself staring at his thoughts, running everywhere; what does he say? What does he do? 

“I…I, of course, remember m-my lab partner.” -Okay, a little shaky…But with your face seeming to light up when he says he remembers and your eyes roaming over him, he can’t chastise himself too much for stuttering now. Miguel feels his hands starting to become clammy, and his stomach feels full of butterflies…shit…this feels like high school all over again. 

“I can not believe how different you look!”

“Yeah, late growth spurt and I uh… I started going…to the gym a lot….You though! You still look so beati- uh nice…good you look outstanding…” His mind is running a mile a minute, and he can’t believe how he is acting right now! He's Spider-Man, and he’s acting so nervous?

Smirking, you look as if you could read his mind about how nervous he is, though to anyone with working eyes, it was obvious. 

“You think I look good?” you ask, playful spinning, making Miguel's eyes take in just how tight your dress is. “I was hoping for beautiful…” you smile, giving him a wink. His blood rushes in his veins, and he swallows his suddenly dry throat. 

You could eat him alive…and he would let you…

“Beautiful then, you - uh… you have always looked beautiful…” 

“Thank you, Miguel, you look very handsome.” Miguel feels his heart racing as you step closer. Your eyes stay on his confident smile on your glossy lips. It teeters on cocky, and Miguel can’t bring himself to hate it…he loves it…

“Though Miguel, I do have to say…I miss the glasses; they were really cute.” 

“I still have some that I wear sometimes,” he says a bit too eagerly. 

Your smirk widens, “Really? Does your girlfriend like them?” 

“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend.” 

The smirk on your lips borders on sinful “Good…” You purr 

Miguel feels a wave of electricity shake through him. Are you flirting? Miguel can’t help the smile and blush that's now reached to the tips of his ears. Miguel came here thinking that you wouldn’t be here, and if you were, you would be avoiding him, but he didn’t expect this. Do you even remember it? Well, of course, you would! Who forgets getting kissed, and then the person runs? He needs to apologize before he never sees you again. 

“So Umm…I am glad I got to see you, well other than it’s just nice seeing you…but I want to apologize…” 

“You’re talking about graduation.” Your cheerful voice cuts him off and utterly confuses him. Furrowing his brow, he’s lost and hoping you can explain. 

“Miguel, I liked the kiss…I wish you wouldn’t had run away…” 

Miguel is sure he’s died, and there is no possible way you're saying this to him. Sweet, perfect you, liked when he kissed you. Nerdy awkward him? Gently, Miguel feels your hands touching his chest, slowly dancing your fingertips over his muscles. Miguel hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat is racing right now. 

“You know, now that I really think about it…you owe me an apology or something. It was very rude of you to kiss me suddenly and then run away like that, teasing me. Then, when I went to reach out to you, you didn't have any socials. That's not very nice to do, you know…”  

Your hand slightly grazes his jaw, and he feels like he could melt. Rising to your tiptoes, you try to whisper in his ear as you lean into his chest, your chest rubbing against him. Miguel can feel himself starting to break a sweat. 

“I thought you were sweet…” 

Miguel feels you start to pull away, and in a moment of bravery or desperation, he carefully places his hands on your waist. Leaning down, he whispers back to you. 

“Could I make it up to you somehow?” 

“I have an idea…if you're up for it?”

Gathering his confidence, when he sees your smile, he squeezes your sides slightly, “Anything you want.” 

Without any hesitation, you grab his large hand from your waist and pull him along with you to slip out of the reception room into a dark hallway. The irony is not lost on either of you as you grin and pull each other close. Your lips are so close to his as you lean into his chest. 

“You're not going to run away this time. I want you to do this properly this time…”

Part of Miguel feels like he could be dreaming; your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair, smiling at him so sweetly. Your eyes are one of pure hunger, and your voice is so transparent with your want. It’s perfect. 

Miguel brushes his thumb over your tempting lips, slightly dragging the bottom down while he tries to archer himself back to reality. Moving his hand to your neck as he leans in and kisses you. Your lips are soft and perfectly guiding against his. Miguel's hands fall to your hips; he digs his fingers into the plush of your skin, making you gasp into his mouth with a moan. It’s been a long time since he’s kissed you, and he wants to make sure you know how much he wants you… trying his hardest to impress you. 

The fingers in his hair tighten to a fist as you guide him to part his plush lips, then slip in your tongue to get a taste of him. It’s gentle at first but quickly heats up from your eager influence. Then you start straddling his thick thighs, grinding slightly against him. Both your bodies feel like you’ve been set on fire in a blazing flame of want. 

“Miggy, I always liked you…just-”

Before you can finish your words, Miguel drives his tongue back into your mouth, eager to taste those words he had always wanted to hear. His hands cup your ass as he drives his knee deeper between your legs, letting you use him more. Breaking the kiss, you let out the most perfect moans as your body tingles and shivers. Miguel hasn’t had enough of you yet as he keeps his mouth kissing against your flushed skin. His tongue rolls over your rapid pulse as you keep grinding and mewing for more. 

“Fuck, miggy~”

Miguel licks a long strip up your neck before grunting in your ear, “I… I only came here… to see you…t-talk to you…” 

His rough words make you grind against him more, and right as Miguel starts to feel your slick soaking through his pants, you pull his hair, successfully pulling a whimper from him, which is quickly cut off by your soft lips to his again. Then, as you pull away, you bite his bottom lip, which makes him shiver. 

“Can…can I take you home…” Miguel asks breathlessly, his hands still squeezing your ass. 

A small giggle leaves your kiss-bitten lips as you take a second to fix his now-disheveled hair, thanks to you. 

“Take me to your place, Miggy; you still owe me…” 

Miguel feels a rush of excitement run through him, making his length throb at your words. You really are going to eat him alive…

It's the perfect sight he’s only ever dreamed of seeing, you sitting on his large bed completely naked, a sweet smile on your face, soft legs crossed over each other, waiting patiently for him. Miguel adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose…you had insisted, and he’s finding he can’t deny you…

Miguel slips off his underwear, kicking them away. Your eyes widen as you see his massive length slap against his abdomen, then hanging heavily. Your eyes rake over his immaculate form; the sight of you licking your lips isn’t lost on him. 

“Strip for me, Miggy,” you taunted as you dropped your dress with little effort, waiting for him to follow. Of course, he did. He would follow anything your sweet voice commands. Just please…let him touch you…

Running his hand through his hair, Miguel approaches you, but your sweet voice turns to him in disapproval, and he pauses. 

“No walking, I want you to crawl on your hands and knees…please? Miggy~” 

Every time you use that old nickname, he feels his cock twitch. Keeping his now blazing eyes on you as he slowly sinks to his knees and begins to crawl to you obediently. The action is meant to make him look submissive, but you find that even now, he looks like a predator getting ready to devour its prey… The shiver that shoots down your spine goes right to your sex, making you drip down on his sheets. 

As Miguel crawls closer, you unfold your legs, stretching one out slowly toward him. His large hand immediately catches your ankle. Hungry eyes look up at you, blazing with want, as his hand slowly caresses up your leg. Miguel's lips kiss softly against your calf while he whispers faint words under his breath after every kiss. His eyes watch you as he slowly raises your legs, the back of your thighs being pressed against his broad shoulders.  

Miguel's hands grab your hips, making you slip a moan. His eyes turn softer as he hears you moan, his lips coming away from the fresh mark he's left on your inner thigh. Miguel's lips part to apologize, but you're quick to interrupt before he can. 

Leaning forward, you push his glasses back into their proper place and caress his cheek. “You're doing so well for me, Miguel…though…It does feel like you're trying to make me beg… Are you trying to tease me?” 

Miguel's lips curl into a smile as he lowers his face to lick his tongue against your clit. You throw your head back at the hot contact, Miguel groaning at the sweet taste of your cyprine. 

“I wouldn’t dream of teasing you…” Miguel's lips lower down to your clit before he gives it a quick lick. 

Unable to help yourself, you grab a fist full of his hair, making him let out a soft groan, “Then devore me, Miggy; you still owe me, remember? And I-Ah!~” 

Before you can finish your taunting, Miguel is driving his face into your wet sex to selfishly devore more of you. Long slow licks of his warm tongue send waves of pleasure to flood your body as your toes curl from every push of his nose to your clit. 

His breaths for air huffing against your quivering sex, the tip of his tongue darting back to lick against your soft folds, making you whine. Looking down at him, his glasses crooked and hazy and his groans continue to vibrate through your pussy. Then the sensation of his tongue probing you open makes you close your thighs against his head and grab this thick hair, pulling hard enough for a grunt to slip through his chest. Getting the message, Miguel moves his tongue to lick your sensitive clit as his finger slips into you. Your grip on his hair gets tighter as you squirm, grinding your hips against his face, mouth hanging open as your chest heaves moan after moan. Your body starts shaking at the addition of another finger, making you feel jolts of pleasure that make you need to roll your hips onto his face more. 

Miguel could carless at the apparent use of his face for your pleasure; it's all he craves right now, your cum to dip all over his eager tongue. For your hips grind onto his face for hours. He would stay on his knees worshiping you like this until you're calling out from too much pleasure, and even then, he doesn’t know how he could pull himself away from your delicious taste. 

You feel him groan into you, the vibrations rushing through you to cause you to gasp and shiver as his tongue keeps sliding in and out of you, desperate for your sweetness. You want more, need more, you crave it with every roll of your hips; you want him in you deeply. Unclenching your thighs from his head, you pull his hair, forcing his face from you with a wet pop. 

Miguel's eyes are blown as he keeps them steady on yours, his full lips parted and panting. The sight of his face glistening with a mix of his saliva and your arousal is sinful and complete perfection. His poor glasses are resting on his face, still lopsided from his ravenous pursuit to taste your cunt. Leaving forward, you keep a smile as you hold his cheek; he immediately melts into it. Grabbing his glasses from his head, you toss them to his nightstand; before he can say anything to you, you're leaning forward to bring him into a kiss. His lips and tongue are laced with you, and you can’t help but want to giggle as he groans and leans his whole body onto you, so needy for more. 

With a gentle push to his massive chest, you can change the positions as you now straddle his hips effortlessly. You are slowly running your hands up and down his chest and abdomen, feeling his hair decorating his skin, making your mouth water. As you shift yourself up, you feel his swollen length hanging heavily as you nudge against it. The tip is hot and already pebbling with glistening pre-cum, straining for you to envelope around him. Reaching down, you flick your eyes from his eyes to his length. 

Miguel sure has changed over the years, but his face is so breathless and furrowing with every strained pleasure as you slide your thumb over his cocks slit. Whining so softly, sounding like the sweet nerd you remember. On the other hand, Miguel is witnessing you in a way only his mind had fantasized about. Your smile is no longer so sweet but devious; He wants to push his cock into you so deeply and have you shudder and scream while you gush all over him, But this teasing and taunting… it's mouth-watering. 

Touching his length, you feel the sheer heat of it as you carefully trace over the soft skin, feeling every vein. Tracing over the red weeping tip, you feel him shudder and mumble something under his breath as you grasp him to hold against you, seeing that he measures to your stomach. You can't help but bite your lip in anticipation of the stretch. 

Your eyes flick back to Miguels, “Think it will fit?” you tease.

“I will make it fit…” his rough voice sends a shiver down your spine. 

Lifting to your knees, you line up his tip to brush on your clit, making you gasp as you slip him through your folds. Then finally, you slip him in slowly, feeling his cock stretch your fluttering hole; the stretch is intense and makes you roll your eyes as your back arches. Miguel grabs your ass tightly, bucking his hips to sink in a bit faster; he pants a sorry as you let out a moan and squeeze your hands on his chest for support. Looking down at his beautifully blushing face, you only smile as you sink deeper. 

“So eager, Miggy~” 

All Miguel can manage is a smile as he works hard to keep himself from bottoming out immediately. He so badly just wants to shove it in deeply and rut into you like a damn animal. A groan builds in his throat as he tries to keep himself from whimpering as you continue to sink so slowly. His cock throbbing and stretching your walls as it heats your insides. Before he can manage a whine, you sink all the way down, taking every inch; before either of you can moan, you lean down to catch his lips in a needy kiss, taking control you guide him, your tongue pushes past his lips to taste his groans. While his tongue eagerly does the same. Pulling away from the kiss, you grind against him, relishing in the feeling of his cock pushing in deeper and his trimmed hairs tickling your sensitive skin; you can’t help but bite his bottom lip to compensate for the mind-numbing feeling. 

Miguel's hands squeeze harder, making you release his lip as your cunt to clenchs on him, the moan of his name dropping from your lips as your hips start to grind on him at a slow pace. Using your hands, you slightly push yourself up and rock your hips back and forth, letting his cock slide to bully your gummy insides, brushing your cervix with every nudge. Miguels is mesmerized as he roams his hands over your body, worshiping every inch of your skin with his careful fingertips brushing and rubbing you so tenderly. His hands come to your breast, where he takes a minute to squeeze and pinch your nipples, your whimper in response, and grind harder against his cock, pushing him to rub harder against your cervix.

“You look s-so fucking beautiful…your body, your…tatse…I’ve never stopped thi-thinking of you…” Miguel mutters through pants of hot breaths. 

The words spur you on, and you start to pick up your pace, making him moan out and guide your hips to rock back and forth faster, “Always so sweet…” you coo to him…the words are less taunting but just true; he has always been sweet to you…

“Only for you…” he muses, and you can’t help but smile, 

“Good…” 

You feel yourself starting to sip from having a clear head that's now blurring in a haze of lust as you continue to pursue your pleasure on his girth. Pushing in and out on him quicker. Your hands grab onto him tighter as you ravish your tight pussy with his throbbing cock. Begging for both his and your release. Fucking so deep in you, now your jaw falls slack as his cock keeps pushing against your velvety sweet spot, making jolts of pleasure pulse through your body with every bounce. 

The sweat that has built on your bodies works hard to try and cool your fevered states, but with every push into your cunt and with every clench around his length rousing him to go deeper makes it all in vain. There is no cooling as you two approach your white hot release, bodies only growing more hot and sensitive with every whine and every mind-numbing push. So close to tipping the other to ecstasy…

With a couple of aided thrust from Miguel fucking up into you, your muscles tenase and your mouth falls open in a pitched scream of his name as your danm burst making you clench and shudder on his cock, coming undone on top of him. You're quivering on his length as he carefully grinds you through your drenching pleasure, the feeling of his cock slipping deeper as you eagerly ride him through your high. 

With the way you clench so tightly and grind faster, Miguel couldn't help but feel himself throb and spurt right into your cervix. The feeling of it spurting so thickly, his cock pulsing inside of you, feeling so heavy in you with each twitch. This cum is hot and fills you so that it's leaking down mixing with your arousal, creating a sticky mess. You can't help yourself when you side on more and more feeling your cunt want to stick to his skin. 

Haze starting to clear you fall forward on him, you try to catch your breath in between placing frantic kisses to Miguel's chest and neck. Your orgasm leaves you utterly satisfied, but Miguels is not done…

With a quick turning over your body, you're lying on your back now as Miguel situates himself between your legs. He takes time to look over your flushed form, his massive hands dragging over your sensitive body, and you shiver and buck your hips up. Miguel takes your legs, pushing them up to your chest, making your mew from his touch, your pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel feels his breath catch as his cum leaks out of your trembling puffy cunt in milky drops. Miguel releases one of your legs to fall to his shoulder so he can plam his cock, still erect and ready for more. His red eyes flick back to your blisted-out face, and though you're at the point of overstimulation, you still ache for more. 

“M-Miggy…” you're the one to tremble shyly for him now, and the switch of the roles makes him fold. He’s helpless for you…

Leaning down carefully, Miguel cages you between his massive arms as he places a gentle, sweet kiss on your begging lips. Breaking the kiss, he whispers in your ear so softly, “More? Can you give me more? Perfect girl…let me feel you again…please…” 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his damp skin, you buck your hips up in your whine of, “More, Please, Miggy ah—I need more of you, always. You are so good to me.” 

He catches your hips in a quick grip as he lifts them up, smiling; it's everything he has ever wanted to hear from your sweet lips. And he is always eager to satisfy you. 

Miguel slips his cock into you with a groan; you're already so sensitive as he pushes down to the base, filling you so quickly that your body already starts quivering around him. Pressing soft kisses to your sweaty skin, he rolls his hips slow and deep. He is taking his time with you. Every thrust is hot and tingling, and you feel that familiar tense starting to build up again from the consistent pace he's set. Managing to open your eyes through moans and rolls, you see Miguel with beautifully flushed cheeks, eyes filled with want as he softly pants and whimpers with each clench of your wet cunt. 

As his pace quickens, you feel him throb, giving you new resolve to meet your hips with each thrust, and your core starts to burn deliciously. Your nails find their place, digging into his broad back. Every slap of his balls to your overly sensitive skin makes you moan and throw your head back. Miguel takes the opportunity to kiss and lick against your neck, his hot breath rushing over you. With a final clench and strained moan, you feel that white-hot wave of pleasure burn through you; his body shudders at the feeling of your cunt, so desperate to cum against him to milk him dry again. His groan borders on a whine as his hips are still, and you feel that familiar throbbing against your cervix as his thick cum fills you up. Looking up at him, you watch his face contort to be in complete pleasure; the sight of it is completely addicting. 

Staying in you till you are both down from your highs, he slowly pulls out his softening cock. The pooling of both of your cum completely ruins the sheets underneath you, but Miguel doesn’t worry about that. He brushes stray hairs from your face and whispers he will be right back. You're too exhausted to move, and you can only twitch slightly as you feel a cool cloth cleaning you up so gently. 

After cleaning you up, you feel the bed sink beside you and the feeling of an arm around you, bringing you closer to his warm body, his other hand brushing through your hair so carefully. You gather your energy to curl into Miguel with a broad smile. You two lay there, slowly drifting away in each other's comfort. 

Clearing his throat, Miguel tries to be as unawkward as possible, and it only manages to make you smile more; you two just had amazing sex, and he’s still nervous; some things die hard, you guess. Looking up at him, you see he’s trying to gather up the best way to approach his next words; this night has been everything he hoped, and he doesn’t want to blow it now, but he needs to know the answer to his question, 

“Can-can I…take you out on a date?” 

His face is completely sincere and flushed; you have to bite back your giggle before you answer. 

“Miggy, about time you asked…” 

You two set the date up for the next night; Miguel, of course, wore his glasses…

[luveline]

𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧

remus’ touch after a long night prompts a tired confession (and a slew of clumsy kisses). 

requested here. modern au. fem!reader, 3.6k.

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

“I'm going to bed,” Sirius mumbles, scratching at his eyes as he gets up. “Don't let her sleep in her makeup. She'll get an eye infection.” 

Your eyes are getting sore, but it's hardly Remus' responsibility to make sure you wash your face tonight, nor Sirius’ to remind you. “I'm a big girl.” 

Sirius sends you a smile, ignoring your chiding. “Goodnight, my loves,” he says, waving you both away as he heads out of the living room and up the stairs. 

“Notice how he didn't do his dishes?” Remus asks, shifting beside you. 

He's sitting as he tends to, slouched in a way that can't be good for his back in the long run but is clearly comfortable short term. His chin is on his chest, his legs kicked out under the coffee table, which is decorated by the casualties of the night. Sirius’ dinner plate, Remus’ mug, James’ rarely used handheld console. He'd been playing a cutesy farming sim before he said goodnight an hour ago. Sirius stayed to mess with James’ crops and eat a late supper. You're surprised it took him as long as it did to admit defeat. 

“What time is it?” you ask. 

You're laying on the sofa with your socked feet tucked behind Remus’ back, of which he's yet to complain. His elbow brushes your shin as he brings up his arm. “Nearly one in the morning, now,” he reads from his watch. “Let's go to bed too, yeah?” 

“I don't want to.” You turn your face into the pillow behind your neck.

“Me neither,” Remus says, dropping his hand on your knee.

You watch another twenty minutes of TV together failing to summon the energy to stand, but the want for a glass of water grows too big. Your head throbs as you get up, offering your hands to the pretzel that is your favourite housemate.

Remus turns off the TV and lights. You lock the front door. He carries the dirty dishes to the kitchen and you fill up two glasses of water to take with you. It's all so… regular. A routine you share nearly every night, only to climb into your two separate beds. 

He ushers you out of the kitchen and down the hallway with his hand behind your shoulders, his touch a phantom as you ascend the stairs.

You're silent beside the creak of the old wood, too tired to speak. Remus is similarly quiet, though he does whisper, “Watch,” when you nearly kick the box of Halloween decorations waiting to be taken up into the attic. 

You leave your water on the towel box in the alcove and dance around one another in the bathroom. Sirius’ toothbrush lays on the sink still wet, but otherwise there's no signs of him. 

You're feeling very, very tired. You hadn't realised how bad it was until you're putting your toothbrush in your mouth, leant up against the window sill, a slot of cold air seeping in from the dark outside. Your eyes shutter closed. The scrubbing sound of Remus brushing his teeth is almost lulling. 

He swills out his mouth and washes his brush. “Here,” he says gently. You open your eyes just enough to see him beckoning you forward. “Dove, your necklace.” 

“Oh. Thanks.” You turn your back to him. 

His fingers are damp and cool on your skin as he unclasps your necklace. He often takes it off for you. It's one of the things you'll miss when you guys aren't living together anymore, the slow meander to his bedroom, the wood of his door jam on your cheek as you lean against it and give him a hopeful smile. Sometimes he's awake, reading a novel on his side in bed or listening to music at his desk, other times he's sleeping. On those occasions you spend too long lingering, stolen seconds spent staring at the rise and fall of his shoulder. 

“Thank you,” you say as he puts your necklace in the jewellery dish. It comes out missing vowels, lips stuck together as though honeyed. 

You spit pathetically in the sink, rinse your brush, and consider sitting down. “I'm tired,” you whine, wiping your lips. 

“I know,” Remus says, giving you a fond nudge. “Just wash your face and get on with it.” 

“You first. I'm going to nap standing up for a bit.” 

He puts as much of his hair behind his ears as he can and turns on the tap. This is just as familiar as brushing your teeth together. It's not quite as bad as watching James Perfect Skin Potter wash his face with bar soap, but you have to admit that Remus’ eight-nine pence face soap hurts your heart. He washes it off, pats his face dry, and takes the small bottle of bio oil out of the medicine cabinet to pipette onto his pinky finger. “Wash your face,” he says, smoothing the oil into his scars one by one. 

You shake your head. “M'gonna do it in the morning.” 

“That's why your eye was swollen a few weeks ago. You know yourself you won't.” 

“I might,” you say, letting out a big breath as you rub your sore eyes even sorer, “I'm too tired.” 

“Can you sit up, at least?” 

“No.” Remus takes you by the shoulders and forces you to sit on the edge of the bath. “Aggressive?” 

“Don't fall in,” he says, cupping your cheek briefly as if to make sure you've heard. 

You are hearing him, seeing him, even feeling the immensity of his touch, but you're tired, and you know you can let yourself relax completely with him. You'd be the same with James or Sirius, though neither of them could have your head feeling so dizzyingly light from a single touch as Remus can. You probably wouldn't let them persuade you into this, either, tilting your head back to watch through blurry vision as Remus soaks a cotton round in your facial oil. 

“Close your eyes,” he says. 

“Was that a dracula impression?” 

“I command you.” 

You close your eyes. The queasy feeling of oil drags against your lids as Remus wipes them, loosening the stiff tubes of mascara that coat your lashes. It's not a short process because he's very, very gentle, holding your face delicately as though you're a flower in need of coddling, and him the sun. It's the only metaphor that would ever make sense for you and Remus; he's like the sun even if it goes against every statement he's ever made about himself, or anyone else has, for that matter. People think he's a moody, sarcastic boy, and he is, but he's also a vestibule of sweetness, softness, and warmth. The kind of heat you'd only ever feel kissing your skin under the summer sun. But more than that, he's the relief that follows when the clouds come out. 

And his hands are all over you. Your head gets heavier by the minute, eased into dozing by his touch and quiet tones. “We're almost done. I'm gonna have to carry you to bed at this rate.” 

“I'm going to miss this so much one day,” you say. It's easier to admit when you're not looking at him. 

Remus turns on the tap. Hot water runs, you can tell by the sound as strange as it seems, and he wrings the dirtied cotton round before replacing it with a new one. He wets it, bringing it just that touch too hot to your cheeks to wipe you down. “What are you going to miss, dove?” 

“Us. You. I'm going to miss you.” 

“Where are you going?” 

“Nowhere, but one day I will be. James will finally have had enough of us and I'll,” —you swallow around nothing as a rivulet of water runs down your cheek, a cooling tear from the cotton round— “have to move out and we'll never see each other anymore.” 

“Don't be silly, you're not going anywhere.” 

“It's not about the going,” you murmur, peeling your eyes open tentatively as his dabbing follows down your cheek to your neck. “I miss you sometimes and we still live together. I can't imagine how much I'll miss you…” 

Remus puts the cotton round aside. He takes your face into his hand, and suddenly his touch feels raw, nothing like it had moments ago. Because Remus would wash your makeup off for you any day of the week, but his looking at you like this, so unshielded and unabashed, is a rarity. 

“You won't have to miss me. Even if we did move away from each other, I wouldn't let it be that far.” 

“Friends move away all the time. We don't speak to half the people we knew at school.” 

“I only really knew you and the boys,” he says. It isn't true but it is at the same time. Together, you'd been a happy lot, but your current housemates are the ones you'd known. “And see? We're still together.” 

“But for how long?” you ask. 

Remus brings his second hand, holding your face entirely. He covers your cheeks, index fingers sliding slowly under your ears. He's exceedingly gentle, and his eyes are soft. He holds you like you're made of glass, like you could break under a hint of pressure. Slowly, he tilts his head to the side as though he might lean in for a kiss. Maybe he doesn't know he's doing it, but Remus is a very purposeful soul. He'd do much worse to wind you up if you wanted him to. 

You sober up. It's like he has caffeine in his palms. 

“You want to go where I'm going, is that it?” he asks quietly. 

“Yeah,” you say, barely say, voice shame-facedly weak. Is he asking what you think he is?

“Do you want to start now?” 

You breathe out as one of his hands shifts down your jaw. “Yeah, I… I want to start now.” 

“Okay, dove. Then close your eyes again.” 

You hold his gaze for a second that feels infinitely long and short at once, your heart racing. Clarity has returned, a thrust into wakefulness even if your fatigue ties knots around your ankles. You look at him in his late night glory, his scars shining a pink-white like the petals of a young peony flower, and you know it's happening now. 

You shut your eyes. 

He steps closer, though the bath you're perched on is low, and he has to bend a considerable amount to reach you. The weight of his hands on you doesn't change, not even as he grows near enough to sense the heat of his breath against your lips. It's his nose that makes first contact as it slides against yours, and then his forehead presses down into you, his lips noticeably absent. Each contiguity between you thrums. 

A pit opens in your chest, cleaved by his voice as he says, “I'm going to kiss you, okay? S'that what you want?” 

Your hands don't feel like your own. Under the sickening nervousness twining its way through your ribs, you're excited. You're smiling, your voice shaped by it. “Yeah. It's what I want,” you say. 

“Good. It's what I've wanted for a while–” while pressed into your lips, all shaken up by an emotion you've never heard him speak with. He kisses you and you're frozen, and he waits and waits and pulls away to push back in. You remember yourself then, responding to his wading with some pressure of your own. Sparked back to life. 

It's so strange. It doesn't feel real. Remus Lupin kisses you heated and hard for just long enough to feel it in your teeth before he pulls away. “Sorry,” he murmurs, his fingertip running down your cheek, following that same path as your earlier rivulet. To think he saw it, really saw it, locked it away to remember and trace into your skin now… maybe he's seen much more of you than you realised all along. 

“Will you do it again?” you say under your breath. 

Remus must hear the thread of insecurity running through your question; you're afraid he'll say no, but he strokes your cheek again with that unfathomable softness and says, “Yeah, dove, of course I will.” 

“Do you want to?” 

And that's less insecurity and more selfishness, wanting the confession. He hears that, too. 

“I want to kiss you more than I've ever wanted anything,” he says, eye to eye with you, your head tipped up and your heart in your throat, twitching and fizzling like a firecracker. “Yeah? And all that missing me you've been doing? All your worrying? You don't need to do that. You've never needed to do that–” 

“I just never thought you liked me like that.” You and Remus aren't new to one another. “You've been the same since the day we met.” 

Remus’ hands get a little more solid where he's holding you. “Dove. Dove, are you mad?” 

“Remus–” 

“Maybe I have been the same, but did you really not notice that I–” He squeezes your cheeks playfully, almost in disbelief. “If you want me, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere without you. You're not going anywhere without me.” 

“So you like me?” 

“Yes,” he says, his eyebrows pinched together at the starts. “Of course I do.” He laughs. “That's what I'm trying to tell you.” 

“Oh,” you say, lifting your head. 

Remus shuts his eyes a millisecond before you shut your own and kisses you again. The second round is softer, his smile to yours and struggling to find purchase. His breath huffs out in a minty laugh, shockwaves through your mouth. 

“Stop laughing,” he breathes, his hands falling to your neck, your shoulders.

“You first.” 

Your lips part under his, a split-second of contact. He yanks away before things can get too heavy, and you're glad he does, but for a moment you feel the loss like a wave of vertigo. 

“Sorry, I'm going too fast, and you're tired.” His touch is ticklish behind your shoulder. 

“It's okay. Maybe it is a bit fast, but I'm not tired anymore,” you confess. 

Remus hugs you, cementing every feeling for him you have as he wraps his arms around you from over your shoulders, a deft hand cupped behind your neck. “That's not true. I can feel your back shaking. Let's go to bed.” 

“After that?” 

“What, are you worried it won't have happened in the morning?” he asks genuinely. 

You go limp in his arms as he takes your weight against his chest. Not worried, but rather not sure you can be away from him so soon. You ask him in a whisper if you can come and sit with him, not to sleep with him, not to do anything else, and he whispers back, Anything you want. You both entertain the lie that you won't fall asleep in his bed. 

—

Remus tenses as he hears the scuffling sounds of movement downstairs. It takes a train of thought awakening for him to realise it's only James, rising early as usual to put on a load of washing and prepare bits for lunch before he goes off for training. He can see him in his mind's eye if he tries, his friend dressed in the red and white rugby uniform, green socks up over his calves and white cleats scrubbed pristine for another ruck in the mud. 

Remus’ relaxes, stretching out in bed until his hand bumps into something rigid. 

He flinches. 

You're laying on the mattress beside him, your head slipped off of the pillows and your arm tucked beneath you. It doesn't look comfortable, and if it were any other morning he'd pull it straight for you, but. 

I kissed you, he thinks to himself, as though talking to you. He turns away from you until his back clicks and alleviates the ache in his hips, though he has to settle eventually, back on his back, no way of ignoring you. He doesn't want to ignore you. The opposite —why are you so far away? Can he hold you? 

What are the rules here? 

Kissing… not dating… You're here in his bed, you'd asked to stay. 

He takes your hand and pulls at your arm. Still sleeping, you mumble and move onto your back, releasing the pressure on your shoulder as he pulls you toward his chest. Your face is impassive, lax in sleep. 

He should let you sleep. 

“Dove,” he says, stroking up the length of your arm. 

“Mm?” you hum. 

“I need to ask you something.” 

You twitch awake with a small cough. Your eyes are red with a lack of sleep as you open them, blinking, and he wishes stupidly that he could make it better. He makes a sympathetic sound for want of more to do. 

“Why have you woken me up?” you ask, blinking at him. You gather that there's nothing urgent happening and push your face into his shoulder, practically nuzzling him. “It's Saturday.” 

“I just need to ask you something.” 

“So ask me,” you encourage through your sleepiness. 

The washing machine whirs downstairs. It’s an old machine that you often joke is taking off into orbit during the final spin, loud as anything. He can barely hear your sluggish breathing underneath it, but he can't miss the catch in it after he asks, “Can I be your boyfriend?” 

It's not the catch he's expecting. You laugh and readjust, wrapping your arms around him from the side and kissing the side of his neck clumsily. “Y'u asked me last night,” you say in a borderless run-on, sounding about as dopily in love as he's ever heard you. 

He thinks about it. Yes, he did, after he'd kissed you many more times than he should've and curled up in bed with you, hands held loosely beneath the blankets. He remembers the question, the answer. The last kiss that followed, and you falling asleep beside him. 

“I need a coffee,” he says, encouraging your head back so he can kiss your temple. 

“No, you need to sleep more with me. And maybe kiss me again. If you want to.” 

Sleeping isn't half as interesting as kissing you. He slots his nose against yours and languishes in the feeling of your lips, wondering if he's having a false start. He could still be dreaming. It would make sense. 

The door clatters open with a curse. James stands in the doorway with a folded pile of Remus' washing from the radiators in his arms, an apology on his lips, “Sorry, mate, the door got away from– oh my god. Oh my god?” 

Remus isn't an overly shy guy but he can't deal with this. “For fuck's sake,” he mutters, dropping his face into your shoulder. Your arm wraps under his neck, fingers splayed across his cheek. 

“James–” you begin, resigned to your fate. 

“This is flat-cest. This is the cardinal sin.” 

“We don't live in a flat,” Remus says. 

“That makes it worse. You can't even blame close quarters.” Remus peeks up to watch James in the doorway, still clinging to Remus’ washing, pure shock curdling his features. He shakes his head. “I'm telling Sirius.” 

“Please don't!” you say.

You slump back into the pillows as James leaves anyways. 

Remus hugs your soft abdomen. “Don't worry,” he says.

“I guess it's a good thing you've already asked me out,” you say. 

“Why, what can they do?” Remus asks, wondering if he's allowed to put his face on your chest or if that's too forward. You rake a hand through his hair and encourage him forward, to his delight. 

Frantic words. You and Remus loved up in bed despite it. 

“I'm chucking them out!” 

“James, they've been seeing for weeks. Can I go back to sleep?” 

“What?!” 

You grumble into his hair. “That's not even true… Does everyone know, then? That I liked you?” 

Remus thinks of the shadow of you in the doorway, that sheepish smile you send his way before you ask him to unclasp your necklace before bed, or your face as he’d wiped the sooty stain of mascara from your cheek last night, half in love with him as you fell asleep in his palm. 

“I don't think so, lovely,” he comforts. “Don't worry about it. We'll clear it up at lunch time. James isn't even mad, he's just sulking thinking we didn't tell him.”

“How could you not tell me?” James asks on cue, rounding the door again, arms ever tighter around the bundle of Remus’ clothes. He assumes it's being kept hostage. “I thought we were best mates.” 

“James,” you say softly, all sympathy. 

Remus likes the feeling of your voice under his ear, and your slightly too-quick heartbeat. He could fall asleep here and now if it weren't for the company. 

“It's new,” you're saying, softness melded to a sweet pride. “Okay? I've barely told Remus how I feel, of course I was going to tell you. We were only talking about it last night. It really hasn't been weeks, Sirius is a stirrer.” 

Remus pulls the covers up over your heads and climbs on top of you in a rush, demanding that the both of you be left alone, to James’ great annoyance but your delight, your laughter loud in the shell of his ear. Your chest shakes with it beneath him. 

A great wad of fabric hits him in the legs. “Twats,” James says, seemingly stalking off. 

Your whisper sends shivers down his spine. “We're alone again. Do you have anything else to ask me while you're too tired to remember?” you tease. 

There's not a chance in the world that Remus would ever forget this. 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

thanks for reading!! I really hope you enjoyed, it's been a little bit since I wrote for remus like this so I was actually a bit nervous and I hope it's okay :D <3

[thinkinonsense]

WICKED

old man!logan howlett x young fem!reader

cw: cheating, heavy flirting, smut, kinda dark

authors note: i have no idea what came over me and i cannot explain it. also! gif credit to the amazing n talented @silverskyeline <333

he never should've gone to the bar. never should've let you run your pretty mouth. most definitely never should've bought you that martini. every weekend he watches you seduce the men at the bar until one of them falls into your trap.

logan would scoff, mumbling something under his breath about how stupid that bastard must be. despite the fact that the only thing holding him back from your advances was the thick gold band on his finger, reminding him of where his loyalty should be.

"lovely seeing you here again, logan."

he loathed your wicked smile and how your voice sounded like rain fall. trying his best to avoid staring into the eye of the storm but your presence demanded to be seen. practically ripping his hazel gaze off the wooden table and over to that tiny dress you were wearing. dark navy tight against your skin in a way that could make any man sin.

"missed ya' last weekend." you purr. "where were you at?"

"home." he states, gruffly.

"that's boring. why were you at home?"

"wedding anniversary."

the words made your tummy flip with excitement. you didn’t know much about logan outside of his favorite brands of alcohol, but you did know that he had a wife at home. he never mentioned her by name. sometimes, she would call the bar if it was “too late” for him to be out but other than that, she was a ghost.

“cute. you should bring her here one weekend.” you propose, almost making logan choke on his whisky. “bet she would love to see where you run and hide at night.”

“it’s not her kinda scene.” he responds.

“aw, i’m sure we would be friends.”

“doubtful.”

“and why’s that?” you fake pout.

logan leans in close before whispering, “don’t think she would appreciate you beggin’ for her husband to fuck you in a dirty bar bathroom every weekend.”

“i didn’t say we would stay friends.” you giggle, making his cock stir in his work pants. “also, the invite is still open if you miss fuckin’ someone younger.”

the second you are out of sight, off in the pool room next door annoying some other asshole, he groans under his breath. logan hated how well you read him. you knew he wanted you but you were smart enough to make him come crawling to you if he wanted to feel your tight cunt wrapped around him.

after a couple minutes, a few men left the room and logan got up to take their place. when he walked inside he saw it was empty except for you sitting in one of the chairs on your phone.

“glad you decided to join me.” you smile up at him.

logan ignores you instead going over to get a stick and start playing. you finish your martini and join him as he sets up the balls. catching you off guard, he tosses you a stick too.

“if i win, you leave me alone for good.” he huffs in your face.

“sure but what do i get when i win?” you smirk.

logan ignores your question and growls, “ladies first.”

it's dead silent as you bend over the pool table to line your stick up to the diamond. logan's far too busy staring at the wet spot on your light blue panties. he never admit it, even if you knew for sure that's where his eyes were. it wasn't until he lost sight of the spot that he realized you already took your shot.

"your turn, old man." you tease, moving out of his way.

the two of you go back and forth for a bit but you were growing tired of this game. instead you decided to make things even more interesting.

"so when i win, are you going to finally fuck me?" your bluntness always left logan speechless.

"you already know the answer to that, sweetheart." he replies, trying to focus before shooting.

"sure, blah, blah, blah, something wife." you mock with an eye roll that almost made logan chuckle. "but seriously? when was the last time you two had sex? you probably got cobwebs in there."

that got a small smirk out of him. one that you count as a win.

"it's just a band. it comes off, see?" you lean over and take the ring off of his finger, placing it on the table.

logan stared at it for too long. feeling the distance of his commitments. you turn his head towards you with a light hook on his grey bearded chin. the lust in his eyes told you that you had won.

"you know what else comes off that easily?" you whisper, lips inches from his. "my panties."

a good man would've walked away. a good man would've returned home to his wife. but logan wasn't a good man. never had been and never would be.

an animalistic urge fell over him, grabbing you with the ease of a rag doll and bending you over the pool table. the wedding band was inches from your parted lips, moaning prettily as logan spread you open with his thumbs and licked a wide strip up your cunt, burying his face in your arousal and letting it coat his beard until he could only taste you.

"f-fuck me." logan groans, pulling back to catch his breath. "taste better than i imagined."

"knew you wanted me." you smirk, feeling his middle finger circle your entrance before pushing in. a loud moan is pulled from your throat as he hits that spongey spot with ease.

"weren't lying 'bout being tight." logan marvels, watching the way you suck in his finger.

he attempts to push in his ring finger as well and you wish you could've seen his face while he struggle to get it in. quickly, you reach for the wedding ring next to you then grab his hand from inside you. fumbling to get the ring back on him before he questions you.

"what are you—"

"go on." you coax, looking back at him with dark eyes. "try it now."

logan shouldn't have been so turned on from the image of his wedding ring coated in your slick; but here he was watching it disappear and reappear inside of you.

"right—fuck! r-right there..." you pant, arching farther back to meet his thrusts.

"does it turn you on being a homewreaker?" logan asks, back up on his feet and nibbling at your ear. "knowing that you have a old married man fucking you with his wedding band on?"

"mhm..." you mumble against the table. he takes the opportunity to pick up his pace, feeling you clench down. "d-don't stop..."

within seconds, your gushing around his fingers and dripping down his hand. right when he pulled out of you, you turn around and push him back into one of the plush chairs to undo his belt. falling to your knees, you begin to stroke him, tracing his veins with your tongue and tapping the tip on it.

"always knew you had quite the mouth on ya', princess." he grunts with a fist full of your hair.

you smile, taking him all the way until his tip hit the back of your throat and the hairs at his base tickled your nose. logan was finding it harder and harder to control his animalistic urge while your gagging and drooling all over his lap. quickly, you release him with a pop and stand up to straddle him, lining him up to your entrance and sinking down slowly.

"shit, you're so fucking tight." he says, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

"only for you, logan." you whine, grinding down on him, rocking back and forth.

roughly, logan pulls the rest of your dress off of you, throwing it on the floor somewhere behind you. large hands touching you all over in ways you've only dreamt of. meanwhile, your attacking his neck like a madwoman. biting and marking him up like he's yours.

desperately, logan fucks up into you, needing more. his tip nudges that sweet spot within you, making you moan loudly in his ear, encouraging him to go faster. so focused on the squealing of your soaked pussy. he captures your lips, kissing you tenderly. you can feel his high approaching, twitching inside of you, and you needed to do one last thing before it hit him.

carefully you pull away, gripping his chin and pulling him face to face with you. his eyes are blown out with desire as he stares at you.

"tell me your mine, lo." you whisper against his lips.

logan can feel you clench tightly around him, waiting for him to give into you completely. he presses his thumb down on your button, moving in fast circles to get you there with him.

"f-fuck, i'm yours, baby." he moans, coating your walls with spurts of his release. "i'm yours."

"t-that's right." you moan, kissing him roughly as your high washes over you.

"you look so pretty like this." he coos, watching the pleasure run over you.

for a moment the two of you sit still, trying to catch your breath. logan's mind races, not meaning to cum inside of you but it's far too late now.

"lets keep this a secret between the two of us, huh?" he says while you play with his hand, mischievously. before he can notice, you pocket the ring.

"sure thing, baby." you reply. "i'll gladly be your little secret but have fun explaining those marks to the old ball and chain."

logan looks down at you and that wicked smile of yours, only to realize just how fucked he is.

[sincerelybubbles]

hotch x shy!bau!reader <3 fem content: slight age gap implied. reader is new to the team and more on the introverted side! not proof read, as is my hubris.

Tired, nerves buzzing from a night spent up and chasing sleep that was not welcoming, you throw your bag down on your desk and go off in hunt of coffee. You usually try to curb your caffeine intake, especially with the travel associated with your new job, but this morning is a happy exception to your new rule.

"Here," Emily says, watching you scan the cabinets of the kitchen. You hadn't heard her walk in, but she's offering you a mug with a sympathetic smile. "Long night?"

"Yes," you say, tone thankful, and spin to figure out the coffee machine.

"Three weeks and i haven't seen you use that once," she comments, sipping from her own warm mug and watching you settle the filter in place.

"I've stayed away. it's harder to sleep when I get back because of the jet lag, anyway, don't need to add coffee at all odd hours to the list, too."

It's the most you've said in casual conversation like this. To say you've been shy with your new team would be an understatement. You're good at your job, you were pulled from the academy early to do this for a reason. You fit well into the team, generally. You like listening to Spencer ramble, especially on the longer flights. Rossi's dry humor reminds you of one of your old professors you grew up admiring. JJ is a constant breath of fresh air, Morgan's consistent strength has built up your own moral. Garcia took no getting used to, lifting you up and settling into your life easily. Hotch is intimidating but kind under the colder-tones, long glances sometimes distracting but oterhwise comforting. Emily is easily one of your favorites on the team, friendly and whip-smart. But, at the core of it, you're shy. Painfully so, even.

The team caught onto this quick, settling into the truth that your observational nature that makes you so adept at noticing the smaller details is bound to weep into your social life as well. So, despite your comfort levels rising with the team, you find these situations hard. Do you explain your nightmares to Emily? Share that you're a diagnosed insomniac who spent the night watching FRIENDS reruns after chasing sleep that pranced beyond reach?

"You're better than me, then," Emily says, smiling over her mug. Her eyes tell you she's pleased at the little crack into your life that you've let her see. They're all like that: insufferably kind and polite with your introverted nature but greedily sipping up everything they can learn about you.

"It's a new development," you admit, clicking start on the machine and settling back against the counter facing her. Something about your sleepiness makes it easier to talk, your tongue looser, your ache to let loose around the team more profound. "I'm sure most of us are insomniacs, though."

"Not me," Emily says, chuckling. "I get home and feel like I don't wake up until I get back here."

"Ah, well, I'm sure it can feel like a curse no matter what way you fall," you say with a shrug. Emily lifts her coffee in cheers to that.

"Morning," Morgan says, turning into the kitchen and giving you a surprised smile. "Hello, sunshine, you're looking bright eyed today."

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "I know, I know."

Emily points with her chin at you, "She's making the coffee this morning."

"Ah-ah, remaking it because you and pretty boy always get here first and finish the first pot." Morgan teases her with a slight shake of his head, grinning and opening the fridge to pull out the creamer.

"Well, you snooze you loose. Or," she sends you a smile, complete with a little nose wrinkle and a tilt of her head, "you don't snooze and still loose."

"Clever," you say, voice dry with humor, hiding your laugh by turning around as the pot finished brewing. "I'll remember this later."

"Careful, she's got teeth," Morgan warns Emily, reaching around you to grab the coffee before you can and filling his cup.

"Hey!" You call in protest, voice raising louder than usual and a pout hitting your lips. Morgan laughs, white teeth on display, eyes crinkled at the corners.

"Here, here," he says, placating, tipping the pitcher to fill your cup as well. "Any sugar or cream to placate the beast?"

Before you can answer, a laugh on the tip o your tongue, Hotch walks in and settles his watchful eyes on you, interest sparking them. You shrink, not in fear but in self-awareness, and send him a closed lip smile. Stepping away from Morgan, you turn quickly to fix your own coffee.

"Good morning," Hotch says, nodding at Emily and Morgan, answering Emily's question about Jack's recent sickness (he's recovering well, thank you) and trying to catch your eye.

You duck away, cowardly and regressing back into your shell, deciding it's time to get to work and stop indulging. You catch Morgan tease Hotch as you leave, though, "Aw, you've scared her off."

You try not to think about it as you duck away, pushing all thoughts of your boss away.

You're unsuccessful.

The problem isn't that you're afraid of him because you think he's mean or unkind in any way. He's done his best to welcome you to the team, allowing you to take investigations in your own direction and listening to your insights since day one. There was a brief moment in your first week where you felt tested, like his questions weren't to gain your insight but to see if you were up to the task, but you slipped past that easily. you have the credentials to back yourself up. you're quiet, yeah, but you're always right on track to where you need to be. pulled early from academy to jump into investigating was hard but it made this easy. a few years of experience under your belt and the job feels natural and, even with the shift in teams to join the big guns in Quantico, you feel like you're exactly where you're meant to be.

No, embarrassingly, this has nothing to do with you not liking your boss or being afraid of him. Rather, he makes you too comfortable. He ducks his head to hear you speak as you walk and talk, settling deep eyes on your face. He's sturdy, dependable, and exactly everything you're all too interested in.

You hate it, harboring a school crush on your boss like you're a teen pining over your teacher. You know it's normal, you know it's perfectly reasonable and there's absolutely nothing wrong with being attracted to him, but you still slink away from him more than the others because of that attraction.

Because it's more than physical.

He listens when you talk. Granted, so do the rest of the team - they're profilers, of course they catalogue everything everyone is saying for future reference. But, beyond that, you catch him paying attention. He complimented your new blouse earlier in the week and it caused air to catch in your throat, suffocating you. It looked new, bright white and without wrinkles, but you knew he must have been looking, noticing, to remember you not wearing it before. He's kind, remembering details about you and the team and using them to aid in everyone's comfort. He knows Spencer can't handle dairy and you've heard him reminding an intern to stock the dairy-free alternatives for creamer in the jet. He brought you a neck pillow on your second flight because you didn't have one.

That gift you accepted with stuttering thank-you's and a flushed face. It hadn't flared this crush, but it definitely aided in your ability to accept it when you finally got around to no longer avoiding how he made you feel with every kind smile and gentle good morning.

You settle down at your desk, putting your steaming mug on a pile of paperwork you really need to sort through, and try to physically push the thoughts out of your head by ranking your hands through your hair, lifting it from your forehead and squeezing your eyes shut. Today isn't the day. You're too tired, sure that the team will be flying out today, and really need to be on your A-Game.

"Everything okay?" A calm voice asks from your elbow. When you look up, you decide the universe hates you. Hotch is leaning on the desk adjacent to yours, holding his own travel cup full of fresh coffee, chin tilted down to check on you. His gaze is kind, light on your face, and his eyebrows are lifted slightly. You get the feeling that he's doing everything in his power to present himself as less imposing.

"Yes, of course," you answer automatically, heart thudding in your throat.

"You know, you shouldn't lie to profilers," he says, tone teasing, voice still low. "If you're tired, it's okay to admit it to me, too."

You're about to brush him off when something in your brain freezes before clicking into place.

He's looking at you, pleading, expression open. He's usually guarded, professional. Caring, but with a guard up. Rare are these moments of genuine asking, especially rarer so are the moment of pleading hidden behind a mask of gentle humor. You think, briefly, about how it must seem to him. He heard you, Emily, and Morgan joking in the kitchen. You haven't been here long, you're shy, but slowly thawing to everyone but him. He doesn't know your reasons, he couldn't, you've made a genuine effort to hide them, and you force yourself to see it from his perspective.

"Sorry," you say, softly, slowly. "I didn't sleep well. First nightmares and then insomnia. Hence," you gesture toward your mug. You shrug, heart beating out of your chest, eyes searching his. Nice, be nice, be open and kind and yourself. "At least I have FRIENDS reruns to keep me company."

You see something relax in him at your gentle offering of the information. He sends you a not-quite-smile, nodding once and pushing himself off of the desk he was lightly leaning against.

"Take a few minutes, I'm sure JJ will call us in soon." He scans your face for a moment before looking down at your desk. He reaches forward, slowly but with purpose, and lifts a file that has been nagging you for days. The new computer system is hard to get used to and the paperwork load is heavier than you've experienced before. "I can help you with this to ease some of your load, too."

He's walking away before you can protest, tucking the file under his arm and ducking into his office. He moves swiftly, leaving no room for argument, and you're left at your desk, mouth agape and heart in your mouth.

"Wow," Spencer says, jolting you in your chair to spin around and face him. His desk is near yours, across a walkway, and you hadn't registered him sitting there. You think he was nose-deep in a book when you walked in but you hadn't been paying attention. "I don't think I've seen him warm up to someone that fast," Spencer admits, leaning back in his seat and giving you a confused look, eyebrows lowered. "Actually, he's never offered to help me do my paperwork. Ever."

"That's because you read far too fast for it to actually help you," you offer, mind racing, words hollow as your thoughts are elsewhere.

Eyes trained on the windows of Hotch's office, you take his advice and relax for the few minutes before JJ comes to gather you all in the conference room. Coffee on your lips, you let yourself smile behind the rim of your mug. You can't imagine how you could think of anything other than that, really.