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luveline · 2 years ago

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taking roan to see santa and she is so excited to tell him about her new mommy and the things she wants for christmas and when she gets there she is TERRIFIED of the man 🎅

a family trip to the mall to see santa!! fem!reader 5k words

"I'm gonna tell Santa about my new mom, and my new house, and my new bed, and my new-"

"Babe, you're supposed to ask him for things you want, not tell him about stuff you already have."

Roan reaches out to stroke Eddie's face absent-mindedly. He loves how loving she is, and by extension, loves that he's made her this way.

"But I didn't have a mom or a house or a bed last year."

He snorts, fingers wrapped up in the ribbon laces on her shiny black shoes. "You actually did have a bed, and a house."

"A real house, dad."

"It was a real house," he argues with little heat, straightening up her socks where they've started slipping down, fingertips pressed into her soft skin. "It was a home, anyway. You know, me and Uncle Wayne lived together in his trailer for more than ten years and it was amazing."

It had been cramped, crowded, and it had been a stuffy hell in the summer, but it was just fine. It was more than that.

He leans back and takes in Roan again. He's dressed her in a navy blue dress with the lining of a white skirt peeking out underneath. She has a cardigan over the top to fight the cold, and he'll wrap her up in her big puffy coat for good measure as soon as he's done her hair. She looks adorable, adorable and well-kept

He feels the familiar rush of parent pride. Fuck, I'm a good dad.

"And we had fun, didn't we? In our trailer?" he asks her, chucking under her chin.

She grins at him, a mouthful of tiny white pearls. "Duh, dad. We had the best times ever, with Rufus and Georgia and Steve."

He smiles himself, reminded of the stray cats that had flocked to their home and their names. Steve had been an especially dishevelled calico, and his name had been a great point of contention between the Munson's and human Steve.

"You know, we could always go visit them," he offers, pleased at the twinkle that grows in Roan's eyes.

"We could?" she asks, gasping.

"Sure, babe. I bet they miss us, and it's cold. We'll make them some fried chicken when we have time, yeah? You and me'll be the talk of the cat town."

"And Y/N," Roan says insistently.

He strokes her cheek with his thumb. "And Y/N," he says as he stands up. "Now, little lady. Bunches or braids?"

By the time he's weaved her hair back into one impressive braid you're finally getting home from the doctor. A completely routine check up and still he's terrified for a split second that you're gonna come in and declare a problem. You simply pose in the doorway and smile.

"Nothing wrong with me that wasn't wrong before," you say breezily. "Hello, my loves. Did anything happen while I was gone?"

Roan scrambles to stand on the kitchen chair and pose as you're posing. Your expression drops, as does your jaw, and you take a while to pick it back up.

"Aw, princess, would you look at you? You look beautiful."

She giggles as you swoop in to kiss her. You take her face into two delicate palms and stroke curly baby hairs behind her ears. A year ago, even a couple of months ago, you would've asked before you kissed her. Now, you pucker up wordlessly, and Roan bears her cheek like she can't wait. If her excited shifting from one foot to the other is anything to go by, she can't.

"You look so, so pretty," you praise, pulling away to wipe at the splodge of lip balm you've left shining on her baby cheek.

"You look more pretty," Roan says.

Eddie adores you both in ways he can't articulate.

His unspoken affection summons your attention. You let your hands fall to her shoulders and meet his eyes over her head. For a moment you smile abashedly, the awkward amazing smile you'd been wearing when you first met. It eases into something easier, something Eddie isn't ashamed to admit he loves more. This one practically oozes love.

"Do you want to get changed?" you ask.

He pretends like you've slapped him. "What do you mean? This isn't mall-worthy?"

"Your work overalls and my apron?" you ask wryly. "Sure, wear that."

He tries not to smile but he's practically sticky with it, kissing your cheek and patting Roan's back in tandem before he escapes upstairs to change. He puts on a pair of tight black slacks and a dark navy button down to match Roan, rolling the sleeves up in the way he knows you love.

There's Christmas music and giggling downstairs when he returns. Roan's now standing on the table of all places, her hands in your hands, the two of you dancing quite aggressively considering it's Jingle Bell Rock. You start to swing her around, pulling her into your chest so you can waltz in time with the music.

You swing to face the doorway and cheer when you see him. "Dad!" you direct Roan's attention. "That's your nicest button down. Is that the one you wore when you proposed?"

He smiles at the memory but quickly hides it, peering down at his shirt as if it's the most boring item of clothing Walmart's ever made. "This old thing?" He lets the dramatics fall. "No, not this one. I might be wearing the same socks, though, if you wanna check?"

You dip your face down to Roan's and rub the bridges of your noses together. "No thanks," you say, slipping into some bubbly mom talk. "He thinks I wanna look at his socks, did you hear? What a weirdo."

"Weirdo," she echoes.

"Wretched women," he mumbles, heading for the shoe rack. He shoves on a pair of boots and raises his volume. "Come on, sweet girls, time to go see Santa!"

"Santa!"

Roan squirms out of your arms and onto the floor. She sprints for the front door and grabs clumsily at the handle, slightly too short to reach and pull down with any force. Eddie takes her coat down from the hanger and bunches up the sleeves to get her hands through. One arm then two, she makes it difficult work but it's something he's become an expert in. Wayne once said he reckoned Eddie could get an octopus into a straight jacket.

"Babe, move out the way," he says.

Roan steps back enough for him to crack the door and then bursts into the cold. She seems less enthusiastic when the ice bites at her naked knees, looking to Eddie for reassurance.

He hands you the keys and you take them automatically. "I'm gonna get her into the car before she turns into a popsicle."

Realisation dawns on your face. "I dont have my purse. Be right there," you say, spinning back into the house.

He catches up to Roan where she's waiting by your car. She has a car seat in your car and his, but yours is the one at the front of the driveway. She looks tiny next to it, smaller when she starts shivering. It's a sub level Christmas in Hawkins.

"Alright, Ro, in you go," he says, opening door. He covers the top of the doorway with his hand so she can't knock herself out and straps her in once she's situated.

"It's cold," she says through chattering teeth.

"I'm sorry, your wool stockings were in the wash, babe." He covers her frost-bitten cheeks, blood pinking her skin. "We might need to get you some pants at the mall, so you don't fr-fr-freeze to death," he says, imitating her shivering.

She giggles infectiously. "You're funny."

He presses a kiss to her head. "All legs in the ride!" he warns.

"Don't cut her legs off," you call from the front door.

"Never. Am I driving?" he asks, closing Roan's door. He succeeds in not mauling her.

"Do you want to?"

"Get in the car."

"Yes, ma'am," he purrs, escaping around to the passenger side and away from your clutches.

The drive consists of Eddie messing with your deteriorating stereo system and Roan's ecstatic babbling. She's back onto what she wants to tell Santa. New mom, new house, new bed, new princess dresses, new kitchen, new pet fish. The list goes on. Though they aren't as new as she thinks; you, Eddie and Roan have been living together now for a couple of months, and you and Eddie have been engaged for almost as long. The novelty has yet to wear off for Roan. Eddie hopes his daughter will be this amazingly happy for the rest of her life.

"You think it's gonna break?" you ask, watching the stereo with all the caution of a lion tamer.

"God, I hope so. I'll know what to get you for Christmas, then."

It's a bluff — Eddie's already got you a bunch of gifts, some of which you're pretending you don't know about, and some he's actually managed to hide well.

"You won't believe what I got for-" You cough. "Uh, Lucky."

He laughs, checking over his shoulder to see if Roan's listening. She absolutely isn't, feet wiggling along to the static riddled kiddie songs and Teddy the one eared bear in her lap. "I'm gonna tell him you need a new ear, Teddy, don't worry," she says, tone conspiring.

He winces like she's listening. "Yeah, what was it? A new plant?"

"Yeah," you mumble. You're a bad liar. "New plant. It's pink and gold and it's made out of velvet silk," — you lower your voice to a whisper — "with handmade skirts and hand sewn sequins."

His eyes go wide. "I thought we said no more presents for Lucky."

"Did we say that?"

"Well, I said that. Starting to think you weren't listening." He pinches your thigh, quick and nipping to get you squealing.

"I listened," you insist through laughter, facing him with a bright, bright smile. You keep your eyes on the road. "I just didn't comply."

"I'm not above force."

You gasp, delighted. "You dog! My little girl's in the car."

"My little girl isn't listening."

"Yes I am."

You snort so loud it probably hurts your throat.

Eddie whips his head to Roan and her cheeky smile. "I know what we should- what we should get Lucky for Christmas," she says knowingly.

"What's that, princess?" you ask, watching her through the rearview. Each word drips with love.

"A girlfriend," she says.

"Yeah? We'd need to get him a bigger tank, too-"

"So that's not happening," Eddie says.

He hates being the voice of reason, on record despises it, but you love Roan so much, you're fucking whipped, you'd pull Mount Fuji from the Earth and put it behind Bradley's if she asked you to, so while he loves nonsense and participating in it, he has to say no. You can't afford a new fish tank now you've paid for the honeymoon vacation and the wedding venue deposit and Christmas.

Or rather, Eddie can't afford it. He works on principle. Your money is your money. His money is your money. You argue that your money is a hundred percent his money too and he fights you on it all the time, even though you're technically the breadwinner. He's not too proud to let you pay more rent, more toward groceries, more everything. Now. It had been a little bit of a sore spot at first.

He'd reasoned that he should be paying more in reality because of Roan and you'd glared at him half-seriously and said, Don't insult me, handsome. You know I love her.

You more than love her, and if you want to spend every last penny of your paycheck on Christmas this month he won't fight you on it.

Besides that, he can't take any extra hours because he has to pick up Roan. You love that argument because it supports your conclusion, among others — Eddie does the majority of the laundry, the cooking, the cleaning. But, those arguments should be moot. You definitely carry your weight, plus, he loves to do stuff for you. Should be, but you do that stupid fucking thing that you do wherein your hands are all over his face and your voice is soft as silk in his ear, and you kiss under his jaw and win any and every argument in a pathetically small amount of time. He'd die for you. You're a cheater.

"Spoilsport," you mumble, pulling into the parking lot outside the mall with a bumpy turn.

"Lucky needs a girlfriend fish, dad, or he'll get so lonely he'll die."

Eddie blows hair out of his face and zips up his jacket, opening your door with a mostly respectful kick. He rushes to get Roan out before you can, knowing you'll carry her all the way inside and give yourself achey shoulders.

"Why do you say that?" Eddie asks as he opens her door. Roan looks up all smiles, Teddy clutched to her neck. "Why do you think he'll die? Lonely people don't die, babe."

"Are you sure?"

He unclips her straps and pulls her out deftly. He'd let her walk herself but the cold is biting and he can carry her much quicker. "I'm positive."

Her face crinkles up. He likely shouldn't have mentioned death, she's too small, but Roan has a strange understanding of all things macabre. Santa's more real to her than death, for sure.

"Maybe I can ast Santa for a big tank for Lucky and then he can have a girlfriend and a baby."

The dropped 'k' on ask makes Eddie stupidly emotional. A habit she's falling out of from when she was younger.

You start pushing him behind the shoulders. "Let's go," you whine, "before we all get hypothermia."

He makes sure there's room in the crook of his arm for your hand while making his way toward the mall sliding doors. You fall into step beside him.

Eddie begins stranger prep.

"You gotta be polite to Santa, remember? Because he sees all these little girls and boys and he's tired from the Christmas rush, and he's taking the time to come see you."

Roan nods seriously. "My pleases and thank you, dad, I always remember," she says.

"Yes, you do," you praise, though she does not.

"Do you think he can get Lucky a girlfriend?" Roan asks you.

More terrible smiles. "Yes, he definitely can. What kind of girlfriend? A goldfish, too? They have black goldfish in the Petsmart with big heads like raspberries- oh, we should go see them after we talk to Santa!"

Roan's nodding grows more and more voracious. "Can we, dad?" she asks.

"Why're you askin' me? Y/N already said you could."

You almost trip over yourself trying to kiss his cheek. He knows you love him. He suspects you love being a parent more. He's rubbed your back through enough 'I'm so lucky' breakdowns to know you're genuinely in love with his little girl.

Inside the warmth of the mall entryway, Eddie sets Roan on her feet. She holds both hands up. He takes one, you take the other, and she rambles about Lucky's potential lover as you both lead her to the entrance of the food court where the mall Santa's grotto has been set up this year.

The walls and railings are decorated in spiraling lights and tinsel, store windows teeming with festive merchandise. Kids are everywhere, none as pretty or well-dressed as Roan (in Eddie's totally unbiased opinion), but all looking startled by the intensity of everything. Roan herself baulks.

"It's bright, huh?" Eddie asks her knowingly.

"All the lights," she says.

"Yeah, babe, a lot of lights. There's a really big Christmas tree further in, too, we came here last year to see it."

She shrugs. Eddie's unsure, but he thinks maybe she's drifted a little closer to his legs.

The grotto comes into view and she perks up. "Oh," she says sweetly, breathless with her eyes wide, dark eyes shining in the fairy lights.

"There he is," Eddie encourages, "and some elves, too. We line up, uh-"

"Over there," you say, tugging him and Roan with you like the three of you are a slinky.

Roan bounces on her tiptoes from the end of the line to the very beginning. You and Eddie can't stop sharing secret smiles. He loves doing this every year, and last year he'd done most of it alone. Wayne hates shopping malls and you hadn't been dating quite long enough for him to feel comfortable asking you to do parent stuff at the time. The difference a year can make — it aches in the best way.

"After Santa and the pet store, what's our plan? D'you wanna get pizza? Or something else, we could go to Enzo's?" he asks.

"Enzo's?"

"I'll pay."

"Last time you had a weird stomach for three whole days after. I thought we'd never see you again."

"You love it, though. I'll buy some tums. Take a cushion into the bathroom."

"Ew, no," you say, sounding less disgusted than you could be.

You're both keeping an eye on the line. There's only one kid in front of you now, and Roan is pulling on your arms ready to pounce.

"Chinese?"

"What does macaroanie want?"

"She gets everything she wants all the time. Would it kill you to choose?"

You think it over. "Definitely. Why don't you choose?"

"'Cause I want you to, that's the whole point. You know, it's okay to do things that you want to do."

"I want to make you pick. You can pay, too, if we're going to the pet store. Santa needs a donation, and I'm gonna be strapped for cash."

He mirrors your sweet smile. "Deal."

"Next, please," says a very average sized elf.

You and Eddie steal another look and you drop Roan's little hand to let Eddie walk her up to Santa. She'd loved him last year, asking for a bunch of things Eddie hadn't been able to deliver on. He'd tried his best, had done a bunch of freelance guitar repairs that he wasn't educated for (but isn't half bad at), had scraped and scrimped, he'd even borrowed money from Wayne that Wayne refused to take back the following February when Eddie finally made it up, and he still hadn't been able to get 'princess sheets' or the new Dotty Dolly.

They approach Santa. Roan takes one step, then the other. Santa says hello.

Roan pauses.

"C'mere, hon," Santa says, an older gentleman with a natural white beard. He's a very convincing Santa, all things considered. "Tell old Chris Kringle what you want for Christmas."

Eddie pushes her forward very gently with his fingertips. "Go on, babe, it's okay. You wanted to tell him about your mom and the house and Lucky the fish, right?"

Roan takes the last step. Then, frozen in the face, she backs up, nearly trips, and bolts down into Eddie's legs. She practically flies down the stairs with a freaked out moan.

His eyes blow. He looks at Roan, looks at Santa. "I'm sorry," Eddie says, smiling at the old man awkwardly.

The elves do not look happy.

Eddie bends down. "Roanie," he says urgently, "what's the matter? You don't wanna talk to Santa?"

She says nothing, only clings. Eddie tries to steer her shoulder back to Santa on his big velvet chair and she's having none of it, whining and shoving her head into his thigh.

"Excuse me-" starts the elf.

"Roan, are you sure you don't wanna talk to him? He's Santa, he wants to hear all about your list this year," Eddie tries.

"No."

He sighs, perturbed but not too worried. They can always try again. He says sorry to the elves and to Santa who waves his hand, as if to say it doesn't matter. He gets his hands under Roan's arms and carries her to where you're standing on the other side. You look heartbroken.

"What happened?" you ask softly, stroking a sweet curl behind her ear.

Eddie has no answers and Roan doesn't want to give them, so you make your way to the food court in a shocked silence. Roan has a tendency to deal with negatives in two ways — tantrums for the superficial, withdrawal for the serious. Eddie still isn't good at dealing with the latter. Together, you can usually save the day.

"Roan, bug," Eddie says, so only she can hear, "tell me what happened. You didn't like Santa, huh?"

"Dad," she says, almost inaudible.

He slides a hand behind her neck and tips her away from his chest. "What?"

"He didn't look how I remembered."

"'Cause you're older," he says.

He's employed his nicest, smoothest dad voice. The gentle one for all her scariest moments, like shots at the doctor's office and the time she wet herself in the playground in front of the other kids. Anything to assuage her embarrassment, a safety blanket.

He slides into a booth and you hover.

"Would something yummy make it feel better?" you ask hopefully.

Roan shakes her head into Eddie's neck.

"I-" You look super crushed. Everything had been going well. He knows how badly you want Christmas to be perfect.

"How about," Eddie cuts you off, not unkindly, "you and me and mom get warm donut holes and ice cream to dip them in? We've never had then with her, have we?"

It's a good Christmas tradition.

Roan can't resist. "Okay," she says.

"I'll get them," you volunteer. "I got it."

Something hooks you as you're trying to leave and you double back to kiss the top of her head and Eddie's temple in quick succession. He smiles at you genuinely, happy when your frown livens up. Roan will be okay in a little while, no doubt. No need for you to tear yourself up over it.

Alone, Eddie eases Roan off of his lap and onto the bench beside him. He takes her little hands into his. She looks nearly angry, dark eyebrows pinched up and her eyes welled with tears.

"It's okay that you didn't like Santa," he murmurs.

"I wanted to tell him about Y/N," she says, lower lip trembling.

"We can always go and see him again."

She stiffens.

"Or we can try a different day, yeah? C'mon, where's my brave girl gone?"

"He smiled funny…" she mumbles.

He feels awful instantly. He doesn't need Roan to be brave if she can't be.

"Well, if you want," he says, inclining his head, "you could tell me what you want for Christmas, I could tell Santa."

She looks up. "You'll tell Santa?"

"Oh, yeah," he says quickly. "I tell Santa all the stuff you forget. How'd you think you got your space hopper last year? And your princess slippers? I tell him all the things you want."

"He still didn't get me Dotty Dolly."

"He's old, babe. He's all senile, like Wayne." Sorry Wayne.

Her face flops into his upper arm, chubby cheek squished to the mild curve of his bicep. She lets out a morose sigh. "Sorry, dad."

He nudges her gently. "For what?"

"Being not brave."

He presses his forehead to her hair. "I didn't mean that. You don't have to be brave meeting new people. It's scary, even if you met them before. Like Y/N," he says, nuzzling Roan's silky hair affectionately, "I don't know if you remember, you were always excited to see her, and I used to think I was excited too. Then we'd get to Morgan's cake shop and I'd make us late because I was hiding in the car. She used to make me nervous, and now she's your mommy."

He wraps his arm around her shoulders. "Sometimes we need time to get to know people before we're ready to talk to them. It's okay that you got scared, babybug, promise."

She goes limp. Her cheek slides down the length of his stomach and lands on his thigh. "I really wanted Lucky to have a girlfriend."

He pets her hair, accomplished in his dad duties. (He hopes. Tonight he'll go over this conversation with you and wonder if he should've said something else.)

"Lucky can definitely still have a girlfriend. What did I just say? I'll make sure Santa knows exactly what you want, no sweat."

She huffs another huge sigh that must take up her entire lung capacity. He tickles the back of her neck with the end of her braid slowly, drawing circles around her ear and her earlobe until her shoulders are heaving.

"You're laughing," he accuses.

"No I'm not," she says into his leg.

"No?" He lets her hair go in favour of scratching her neck. "We can change that."

You return with way too much ice cream and twice as many donuts to find her squealing and cornered in the booth, curled up into a ball like a pill bug to evade Eddie's cruel hands.

"What are you doing to her?" you demand.

"I'm cuddling her. What's it look like to you, mister?"

"Mister? You sick freak."

"You're the sick freak, freak. Sit down and give my girl one of those donut holes before she keels over."

"She's already keeled! Get offa her, the ice cream's melting on my hands."

He stops tickling Roan and she finds the strength to sit. You're ecstatic to see her happy again and you show it with a grand proferring of sweet treats and three plastic spoons. You've bought a whole lotta donuts and an ice cream boat with chocolate fudge and cherries, and you let her maul it without complaint. It's a good time, a great one, to watch Roan teach you how to dip the still-warm donuts in your ice cream, and to watch the two of you try to eat them without getting powdered sugar and chocolate all over your fancy clothes.

He ties the cherry stem with his tongue and mystifies Roan, who spends the next ten minutes trying to do the same. He feels so sorry for her that when she sticks her little tongue out with an untied stem for the tenth time, he meets your eyes and nods and the two of you cheer like crazy.

He hadn't brought his bag, a rookie mistake, so he nabs some napkins from the condiments table and gives Roan the good old spit and polish.

Clean-ish, he takes her hand and she stands on the bench, hopping off and landing with Munson grace (her knees give out). You take the long way around the grotto so she won't have to see Santa again and come across the mall's huge Christmas tree.

"Woah," she gasps, enthralled.

Eddie really should've brought the camera, even if he only has two pieces of film left. He wants to remember this forever, her face still soft with baby fat reflected back from a giant golden bauble, tinsel bouncing light all over her skin like a mirrorball. You bend down beside her and grin.

"Eddie, look at it from down here."

He suspends his disbelief and kneels down.

From the floor, the tree looks bigger than any skyscraper, and it shines like a star. If you follow the tree all the way to its angel at the top, you can look past it into the skylight, where the dark night shines with pinprick stars.

"Our Christmas tree doesn't look this good," you say.

"Yes it does!" Roan says, turning to you with a stern scowl. "Our Christmas tree is the best one they ever made."

"Yeah?"

"Mm. And I got to put the star on."

"Yeah, you did." You rest your hands on her shoulders and the two of you look up together.

I need a fucking camera, Eddie thinks hotly.

—

Petsmart is like an aquarium at 6PM. The lights have been lowered, the fish tanks glowing bright blue and bubbling in the dim light. A hundred white and red babies swim erratically, their fins a blur in the top tank. Underneath, there are tanks filled with algae-eating snails that move surprisingly quickly. To the left, the big black goldfish with puffy cheeks lavish in their more spacious tank.

"Where's the ones with the raspberry head?" Roan whispers.

Your eyes follow a beautiful red goldfish the size of three fingers. "I don't know, little lady," you mumble, entranced by the goldfish's graceful arc.

"Do you think Lucky would have a crush on him?"

You look to where she's pointing at, little finger chasing a telescope fish.

"I think he'd love him. He's a big one."

"I thought Lucky wanted a girlfriend?" Eddie asks.

"But all these ones are boys, dad."

He frowns, endearingly confused. "How can you tell?"

"I just know."

You love the way she says it, love every little word she says. She sounds confident in her declaration but the way she pronounces her words harbours the clumsiness that comes with being a young kid, 'know' carrying a lot of weight, of humour, like she can't believe Eddie would say something that silly.

"What about that one? She looks kinda girly, no?"

The three of you watch the fish in question complete a small loopty-loop.

"Nah," you say, "that's definitely a boy. He has abs."

"They're called gills."

"Do they have any pink fish?" Roan asks.

"Maybe not. They have pink plants. Hey, I saw the ornaments on the way in, they have a castle. Think Lucky would like that?"

If Petsmart didn't close at 6.30 you could stay and watch the fish tanks with them forever. You hop along to the ornaments and try to catalogue all the ones Roan expresses an interest in. Buying them won't count as spoiling her, it'll be spoiling Lucky. Eddie can't possibly be irked over that.

"Don't even think about it," he mouths.

You remember Roan's unhappy face when she was confronted with the horror of the mall Santa up close and decide she can't leave empty handed.

"Why don't we get him something now? You can put it in his tank tonight before bed."

"Really?" Roan asks.

"Go crazy."

Roan hesitates, spoiled for choice, hands feeling over the ornaments one at a time. Eddie tells her she can't pick anything from the tip shelf and you're glad for it, because it is Christmas coming and they're extortionate hand crafted things you cannot afford.

"This one," she says.

She picks up a heavy looking Christmas tree glued to a white plate, multi-coloured presents nestled at the trunk. It's a glorious twelve dollars.

You let Roan carry the bag out of the Petsmart. She turns to Eddie and says, "Please make sure Santa gets Lucky a girlfriend like the one with the big eyes. And please tell him that I have the best new mommy and the bed and the new house, please."

He beams at her. "We can strike those off the list, for sure. What do you want now you got all the stuff you asked for last year?"

"Pink hair."

Eddie whistles through his teeth appreciatively. "Gnarly."

"And a bounce house," she adds.

He shakes his head at you before you can ask.

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2demondogs · 11 days ago

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Hi! Could I get some domestic Charles headcanons? Like if him on his own ranch with his partner and children?

Sure!! Gender-neutral reader! Sorta hit a block on this one bc while I want to wife Charles up 100%, I am very much destined to be a Cool Gay Uncle, so I hope it's okay lol.

Charles does most of the hunting, slaughtering, and cooking. He's good at the former, doesn't mind the rest, and he likes that you compliment the latter. If you want to join him catching dinner or cooking it, Charles is usually more than happy to have company. He'd also love the opportunity to teach you whatever he can; once they're old enough, teaching the kids is his favorite way to bond with them.

He does need alone time, and wants to give you yours. There's only so much interaction anyone can take, and Charles is a naturally reclusive man. Normally, he'll take hunting trips or repairs around the place as an excuse to be on his lonesome for a while. If you're not someone who frequently needs to recharge on your own, he'll probably worry that he's stressing you out being so... around.

For a quiet guy, he rambles at night. Charles tends to talk pre-sleep anxieties out with you when he's tired enough — and he has a lot of them, for living such a slow life nowadays. Things from the past, what comes in the future, what that hide will fetch. By the time kids come along, he'll wear his brain smooth on one side worrying about them. Especially the girls. He is a Girl Dad for sure.

Charles is not very good with young kids. He's good at respecting them as their own tiny, more chaotic versions of adults. Patience is a virtue, and he can put up with their nonsense — though that's more affectionately thought than anything — for a long time, as long as they're satisfied in committing it. Once they start crying, though... let's just say that approaching a child the same way he approaches wounded animals worked until he spoke too hard on accident, and the kid burst into tears again.

Kids love him regardless. Usually, anyways. There was a period of time where babies tended to cry whenever he looked at them, and neither of you really know why to this day. But he's quiet, so they can talk all they want; he's tall and sturdy enough to climb; very firm hugs, and doesn't mind giving them; and once they're old enough, his advice is solid without being too kind. He's kept his physique if only because, for some reason, every single kid has loved being swung around like a feed sack. Like most things, he doesn't get the appeal, but whatever makes the critters happy, y'know?

Despite the difficulties, a family was never a bad idea. Charles likes the idea of having roots, and having them with you. Anything stationary is a grace in his life. To think the rest of it could be nothing but that is at once suffocating and comforting. He'll probably drag you all on a few trips and wander off on some excursions to sate the drive to run around, but beyond that, he's just fine being a homebody now that he's got a home.

One of his more sentimental insistences is a yearly family portrait. It's an expense, but ranching is good enough money to warrant it. Beyond expressions of contentment, he doesn't often make gestures or say much in the vein of this— but it says enough about what you all mean to him that he gets a few prints of each one.

He doesn't tell the kids much of his history. Of course, he connects with them as deeply as he can because they're his babies. Charles is the master of dropping absolutely horrific lore on them over a beer once they hit their thirties, but before then? Good luck. It's dangerous, sure; he wasn't always a good man, no, and sometimes he's ashamed; most of all, what happened in and to the Van der Linde gang — and the world they sprouted from, and where that world is buried, and where the world is going nowadays, and everything else — still scares him. He would be happier if you didn't know a lick of it, either.

#rdr2 headcanons #charles smith x reader #charles smith #charles smith headcanons #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #sfw #headcanon #ask #neutralreader #He kinda looks like he's hitting a vape

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abyssalzones · 10 months ago

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C-PTSD as a diagnosis makes so much sense for Ford because he really does fit almost all of the criteria, ESPECIALLY if you take the stuff in J3 into account in conjunction with his traumatic childhood (bullying, bad dad, etc.). It just makes sense in regards to his motivations and his issues with interpersonal relationships (like with Stan). Also buring yourself in your work (like he does) is a very common 'flight' coping mechanism to trauma in adults

I'm smiling like this right now

ford's whole.... mental health deal is extremely interesting to examine because Oh my god this man is the textbook image for "reacting to ongoing, continuous trauma". intentional or otherwise (I'm inclined to believe it's both).

like. okay hang on I'm about to get very in depth with it

I feel like there's no way this entire guy's life and in some ways his lasting identity haven't been defined by and constructed around various forms of trauma, maybe the most obvious and true-to-canon-intent being peer abuse/bullying from childhood. a lot of people downplay the impact of this type of abuse but it's... responsible for a lot of social ills in shocking ways. (if you're more interested in this topic here is an article my friend mer linked me a while back, it gets into it very deeply)

(a lot of this is going to be sourced from the wikipedia page for CPTSD [and my own experience Living with it] which I realize isn't very professional of me but Whatever this is tumblr)

one of the core tenets of ford's personality is that he's Different. he owns it, sure- his six fingers become a point of pride rather than something to be ashamed of- but they make it extremely clear that from a young age he associated being different with being a social pariah. ford's generation was characterized by notoriously cruel bullying, and anything that remotely made you stand out rendered you a target. ford could've been bullied for being nerdy and jewish (and failing to perform socially, ie dating) alone, having such an obvious mutation definitely was not winning him any points.

so it's honestly no surprise, when from childhood ford feels like he has One person in the world to trust and confide in, that he would go on to form very unhealthy attachment patterns typical of CPTSD. as you elaborated on regarding AvPD (which I know far less about but seems to have comorbidity with CPTSD): if you're hard-wired to believe socializing with others results in failure or betrayal, then you're not going to make an effort. but what does end up happening is that you're going to pour all of your trust and dependency into one person at a time, one person who is "safe".

previously, that was his brother. and it's not really hard to draw the conclusion from there that fiddleford was a subject of ford's attachment style, considering he was his One friend from college, and... one of Maybe two people ford is friends with at all who he isn't related to. he cites him as the only person he can possibly trust to work on the portal project alongside him, and he still can't bring himself to tell him the full truth, because he's terrified of losing him. I love their dynamic (I do think they were mutual best friends, and there was no small amount of trust reciprocated between them. "fiddleford was weird as hell too" is something I keep coming back to) and I don't think it's built on entirely unhealthy terms, but that kind of pressure is... setting things up to crash and burn.

enter bill stage left. back to "continuous yearning to be liked and accepted"- this guy knew that and made every effort to prey on ford's insecurities to reel him in as close as possible. this is what really pisses me off about the idea that bill was just "inflating ford's ego", because it's way, way more insidious than that. throughout the entirety of journal 3 we see ford reintroduce someone to his life he has a very positive relationship with (fiddleford) and how that trust gets gradually broken down by bill's influence "winning out" over their friendship. I think it's safe to say ford was already vulnerable: from the start, he'd been isolated in his research for six years (and it's unclear for how long he'd known bill by 1982), and bill proved time and time again to be someone who wouldn't judge him, someone who would praise him for his hard work, and perhaps most critically, make him feel like being different was something special.

like that's... that's really not good!!!! and that kind of thing works wonders on someone who has already settled with the idea that they're inclined to be alone just by design.

trying to put a cap on this. in relationships like the one he's had with his brother or fiddleford it doesn't even necessarily have to be ""toxic"" (vague term anyway) or outwardly bad to be built on unhealthy attachment patterns, and considering for a good chunk of ford's life his attachment to others can be characterized as "I can only trust ONE person at a time" it feels essential to any discussion of his CPTSD or canon trust issues. That is something that happens a lot in Real cases of CPTSD (hi) and only further snowballs into More trauma by leaving you vulnerable to manipulation and abuse (see: bill.)

I've been going on for way too long now and I feel like I've only scratched the surface of the thing I wanted to elaborate on sorry. that post traumatic stress disorder can complex

#lab notes #I woke up and had to answer this before anything else but I really need to Eat so apologies if this is all over the place. running on empty #edit: this is ok to reblog ! all of my gf theorizing/analysis is unless I clarify it isn't for whatever reason #lab discussion

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jessicas-pi · 11 months ago

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Korkie Kenobi is fun and all, but have you considered all the potential in Korkie not-Kenobi?

have you considered Korkie seeing a picture of Obi-Wan and thinking that maybe—maybe—maybe his parents are alive, maybe his mother has been there all along, maybe his father is an amazing hero out there in the galaxy saving people, and he's wrong, his parents are dead and he never knew them and it really is his aunt who is raising him, and Korkie knows this but he hopes, oh, he hopes—

have you considered Obi-Wan panicking when he sees Korkie on his trip to Mandalore, because even though he and Satine were never together, never so much as spoke about their feelings, for a split second he still wonders, and Satine laughs behind her hand because she knows what Obi-Wan was thinking, and Korkie is blissfully ignorant of it all because in this universe he never even imagined Obi-Wan could be his father—

have you considered Korkie making jokes about it, laughing with his friends over holonet conspiracy theories, and never in public, never where people could hear, never where it could get in the gossip magazines, because he's careful, and Satine had worried it might hurt him but he knows who his parents were and he thinks it's funny when his friends call him Obi-Two—

have you considered Satine being seventeen and pregnant and too ashamed to tell her parents, and then she's seventeen and pregnant and she has no parents to tell because they're dead, and then she's eighteen with a newborn and on the run for her life, and the young Jedi who helped save her rips up his own cloak to make a birikad and he sings lullabies on the restless nights and he changes the baby's soiled diapers, he does it all without hesitating, and Obi-Wan didn't father Korkie but he is the closest thing Korkie will ever have to a father—

have you considered Korkie being picked up early from his first day at school, sobbing and hiding in his Auntie Satine's arms, because one of the children was calling him a mean name and saying things about his parents and his auntie and someone named Ke-no-bi, and he doesn't know why, he doesn't understand, and he won't tell his auntie what the children called him because it's a bad word, but Satine knows exactly what they were calling her nephew, and she knows that he will be called it for the rest of his life—

have you considered Korkie with a single glass marble, stretching out his hand and reaching for a power he does not have, and nothing happens and his friends encourage him to try harder because if your dad can do it, you can too but Obi-Wan isn't his dad and he can't do it—

have you considered Korkie living in the shadow of a legacy that isn't even his, because nobody believes he is who he says he is, and his instructors all grade him a little more harshly because the son of a Jedi should be at the top of the class, and his friends all one-by-one find ways of asking if Obi-Wan Kenobi is his father and he says no but he knows they don't really believe him, and Korkie will never ever be who his people expect him to be, because they expect him to be the son of a Jedi but he's only Korkie—

have you considered what it would mean for Korkie to not be a Kenobi?

#korkie kryze #i'm not anti-korkie-kenobi by any means #but i think the idea of korkie not being a kenobi is SO underused #ESPECIALLY in obitine fics!!#Family is more than blood and i think we need to apply that idea to korkie more. for fun.#jessica's random thoughts #also umm kinda #jessica's controversial star wars opinions

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dragon-creates · 7 months ago

Text

She Was Like A Sunflower

Read on AO3

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12

UM!!! EP 2 WAS SO GOOD!!!!! GUMMI GOO😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭!!!!!!! Um yeah that's all I have to say, sorry this is late lmao. Hopefully I'll get back to a better schedule soon. Also, trigger warning for child abuse in the first few paragraphs in this chapter as it does go into detail with Jack's backstory. As always I will put (1) when it starts and (2) when it finishes. All I want is for my audience to feel safe so if this is something that you know you can't read please don't feel ashamed skipping this. Stay safe xx.

3. Seven

And I've been meaning to tell you I think your house is haunted Your dad is always mad and that must be why And I think you should come live with Me and we can be pirates Then you won't have to cry - Seven by Taylor Swift

(1)

“Jack! Jack! Get out here you little shit!”

A five-year-old boy whimpered at the loud voice, crouching behind a garden shed in the backyard. He held his breath, begging for the voice not to find him. In his arms he held a small, trembling baby rabbit, its nose twitching in panic as they hid.

“You can’t hide forever Jack!”

The young boy had come home from school, wanting to get into the house and not bother anyone. He had to be good, he will be good! But sometimes, good didn’t seem to be enough. Even when he was ‘good’ they still hurt him…

That was when he saw Luke, kicking a baby rabbit in the front yard. The poor thing was limping, it had probably wandered too far from its mama, now Luke was torturing it for his own amusement. He begged Luke to stop, to do something else, but the teenager had gripped his face and growled at the child to mind his own business. Jack didn’t know why he did it, maybe it was a reflex from the sudden fright he felt, but he kicked Luke in the stomach, leaving the older boy winded. There was nothing but red-hot rage in Luke’s eyes, that’s how Jack knew how much trouble he was really in.

So he picked up the rabbit, ran through the house and out into the back garden, now he was here. He heard Luke’s footsteps on the grass. Jack held his breath, forcing himself to not make any sudden noise. The seconds were achingly long, his heart pounding against his chest as he tried to hear if Luke was approaching or not. The footsteps stopped, Jack squeezed his eyes shut, as though this were all a nightmare and he would be waking up soon.

Unfortunately he was very much awake when a hand grabbed him by the hair and through him onto the open ground, forcing him to drop the baby rabbit. “You think you can get away with that?! Huh?!” Luke mocked, kicking the boy in the stomach as Jack let out a cry. “Come on! Finish what you started!”

“I’m sorry Luke! I’m sorry!” Jack wailed as the teen kicked him in the knees. “It was an accident!”

Luke paused, a sadistic grin creeping on his face as a vile idea came to mind, “Accident? Heh, I’ll show you an accident.”

His eyes darted to the baby rabbit still limping on the ground and marched towards it. Jack looked up from the ground, pushing himself up as he scanned the grass for the rabbit. It was only when he heard a crunch and a distressed squeak did his heart plummet to the pit of his stomach. Luke stomped on the little rabbit over and over again, little squeals leaving it as it writhed in pain. “No!” Jack cried, trying to stand despite his aching limbs. “Luke, stop it! Please, stop!”

Luke ignored him, continuing his attack on the poor creature. Jack tried to stand as quick as he could, the blood rushing to his head as he swayed on his feet. By the time he was fulling standing it was too late. There was nothing left of the rabbit but a mangled corpse and a manic sneer on Luke’s face. The blond teen turned to the young boy, shrugging as it he only flicked a piece of dust off his shirt, “What? It was just an accident?”

Suddenly, Jack didn’t feel the lightness in his head anymore. He squeezed his fists, a rush of adrenaline rushing through his veins as he screamed, running to Luke and tackling him to the ground. The blond wasn’t expecting this reaction, letting out a screech as he felt sharp nails scratch across the skin on his face.

“How dare you!” Jack screamed, not ceasing. “He did nothing to you! Why did you kill him?!” There were stains of red, Luke grunted as he tried to stop the scratching but Jack’s hands were too fast for him to catch. “I hate you!”

When Luke finally caught one of Jax’s hands, did clarity start to fill the young boy, along with the fearful dread. He tried to run, but Luke’s grip was firm and bruising as he stood up. With his other hand, his fingertips tapped against the blood on his face, inspecting it closely. A small chuckle left the blonde, lacking humour and filled with nothing but bad intentions. And little Jack had nowhere to run and no chance to hide now.

“Luke, please don’t do this,” Jack whimpered, trying to pull away from the older boy’s hold on his upper arm.

“Too late,” Luke hissed, his head turning back to the large, ivory house. “DAD! MOM! COME SEE WHAT JACK DID!”

Jack’s blood ran cold. Luke was already a bitter, vile person, but even bad people had to learn their behaviour from somewhere. As for Luke, he had received it from his parents. The only people – other than Luke – Jack feared the most, “Luke, I’m sorry! I’m really sorry!”

But his cries fell on deaf, ignorant ears. Two adults rushed out the house, a man and women in their mid-forties with scowls that seemed to be printed onto their faces. Luke’s parents, the ones who had also adopted Jack.

The woman let out a sharp, horrified gasp, “You! What did you do to my son?!”

“Little bastard attacked me out of nowhere,” Luke threw the child forward, making him fall forward and land on his palms.

Jack barely had any time to gather himself before a rough hand grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and lifted him up. Luke’s father glared at him, a cigarette hanging up his lips as Jack tried to not breathe any of the smoke being forced down his nostrils. “You think I accept that behaviour in my house?!” He glowered.

“I-I’m sorry sir!” Jack wailed. “But he killed that bunny! He stomped on it till it couldn’t move! I just wanted to protect him!”

“All this over a stupid rabbit?!” The foster mother screeched. “You’re nothing but a little monster! Hurting my boy over a useless rodent!”

Jack’s eyes widened at what she had said. How cold and callous her words were. How she devalued the life of an innocent creature who couldn’t take care of itself. He turned his gaze to Luke, the boy holding a t-shirt his mother fished from the laundry basket and held it to his face. He was still grinning, blood staining his teeth, looking more like the monster that his mother was talking about.

“Get in!” The man growled, dragging the boy into the house again. Jack grunted as his feet scrapped against the ground with the sudden, harsh movement, feeling Luke’s eyes on him as the blonde’s father kept pulling him.

He didn’t stop until the boy was pushed into the kitchen and the door was slammed shut behind him. The man’s grip moved from the back of his shirt to his foreman, nearly cutting off the child’s circulation.

He took the cigarette out of his mouth, “This is what happens to little brats who act out of line.”

Jack gasped, the realisation of why they went inside finally setting in. His foster father didn’t want to risk any prying eyes, any witnesses to see what he was about to do next.

Jack struggled, trying to escape, but the man struck him across the face, his ring leaving a mark in the child’s delicate skin.

The cigarette moved closer to his arm, the young boy crying and writhing. The blunt hadn’t even touched him yet somehow he could already feel it.

The flaming end met his skin.

And Jack’s scream echoed throughout the empty house.

(2)

Jax gasped, sitting up straight in his bed as he clutched his hand to his chest. He scanned the surroundings, even putting a hand to his forearm to feel for any scarring. His breathing slowed, relief settling when he saw that he was in his own room, and that there were no scars to be found. Just an armful of purple fur instead.

He felt a body stir next to him, Pomni had the blankets tucked around her like a cocoon. Jax didn’t mind, he got too warm most nights anyway. He settled back down, sliding and arm round her waist and pulled her close. He felt her chest against his, rising and falling with each breath. He matched his own with hers, letting it calm his racing heart. His eyes began to droop when he heard a small voice.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Pomni asked, peering up at him with sleepy eyes.

Jax sighed, he promised not to lie to her and he wasn’t going back on it now or ever, “Yeah, I did.”

“Are you okay? You wanna talk about it?” She attempted to sit up. He patted his hand against her waist, reassuring her that she was fine where she was.

“It was about my old foster family,” he told her. “Way before I met Winter.”

“Oh, babe,” she tucked her head under his chin, snuggling close. “You didn’t deserve anything that they put you through. I’m so sorry that you had to relive that in your head.”

“There’s nothing you gotta apologise for,” Jax kissed the top of her forehead. “Honestly, I don’t think about them a lot anymore. I know that sounds ironic cause of Luke confronting me back then. But they don’t mean anything to me, they don’t matter…but you do, more than anything.

He felt her lips smile against his chest, pressing a small kiss next to his heart, “You mean more than anything to me too.”

Jax pulled her closer again, feeling his eyes fluttering shut as sleep came for him once again, “Thanks little lady.”

“I am not a little lady,” she mumbled causing him to chuckle, his voice vibrating against her ear.

The nightmare was at the back of his mind, his eyes gazing on the small jester curled up beside him. Luke didn’t matter anymore, his old foster family didn’t matter anymore. Thinking of them never did anything good for him, there was no need to focus on his past when his future was right next to him. He would talk about them if the situation occurred, he didn’t want to repeat the mistakes of secrets, but Pomni was all that mattered. And that was okay.

With one last sigh, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, joining her in a peaceful, blissful sleep. His dreams for the rest of the night were filled with the smiles of a certain brunette.

Another day, another adventure. Everyone already had the same shared opinion of Caine’s adventures, but one of the worst things they all agreed on had to be mentally preparing themselves for whatever it was going to be. It was a process that had each one of them dreading for whatever Caine had created for them. Sometimes they were the most thrilling and exciting experiences they ever had, others were boring and had them wanting to go back to their quarters, but the worst ones had to be when they were left emotionally or physically scarred with the most haunting imagery that would be stuck in their minds forever. They never understood why Caine would create such adventures like those, how could he ever think they were fun?

Jax shuddered, hoping for at least a boring adventure instead of the awful third option. He turned to Pomni – who was busy talking to Ragatha – he definitely didn’t want her dealing with that type of adventure. She had already been through enough as it is. He knew that they were to keep a low profile, but he also knew that Caine was unpredictable. Whatever adventure was chosen, he was going to stick as close to Pomni as he could. The last time they were separated she nearly…

“Good morning my superstars!” Caine beamed, a juxtaposition to the circus members sleepy and dreary attitude. “Don’t I have just the perfect adventure for all of you today!”

“Wow, such a surprise,” Jax grumbled under his breath. The jingle of Pomni’s giggle at his sentence made him smile, making sure it was hidden from Caine.

The pair of dentures didn’t seem to notice, simply continuing with his speech, “I know you all miss your old lives as boring humans, so being the gracious ringmaster that I am, I decided to base our new adventure around one of your earthly activities I heard one of you mumble about – though I can’t seem to remember who said it.”

Everyone gawked at that. Caine so rarely laid any notice or curiosity to what the outside world was like, stuck in a firm belief that the circus was the greatest place to ever reside in. This was the first time that he mentioned basing an activity on the real world, what could he even imagine what said activity involved? But more importantly, what activity did he pick?

“I’ve done the amount of research that I felt bothered to do and created this!” With a snap of his fingers, there was a flash of light and the walls of the tent disappeared. Each member blinked, rubbing their eyes from the sudden bright light. When the brightness faded, they let out a small gasp at the scene around them.

An orange sunset, tall and long hedges and miles upon miles of fresh golden corn. Caine had created a cornfield maze. Other than the vegetable, Jax felt a tingling familiarity at the sight of the maze, the memories of falling asleep with a certain jester and dreaming about his best memories of his past in a place just like this. He looked to Pomni, she seemed to be having the same familiar feeling too. She turned her head to him, her eyes twinkling and her smile sweet. He returned it with the same warmth.

“Your goal is simple!” Caine interrupted the couple’s train of thought. “It will be a race between each one of you! Whoever collects the most corn by the end of the adventure wins…oh I actually haven’t thought about that. Um, what do humans usually win at these things?”

“Oh, well it ranges from a lot of different things,” Ragatha piped up. “It could range from prize ribbons, stuffed toys, sometimes even food. Something that most people can enjoy!”

Caine hummed, tapping a finger against the bottom of his jaw, as though he were deep in thought about a life changing matter rather than a prize for a silly game, “Aha! I’ve got it! The prize can be…water! Everyone likes water! Right?”

Ragatha cringed, not surprised in the slightest from his answer, “Sure Caine.”

“Well then, I’ll you all to get started superstars!” the ringmaster grinned, about to snap his fingers. “Oh I should mention, you’re all going to be separated until all of you have found an exit! Okay, bye!”

“Wait, what?!” Pomni paled, but her question was cut short but the familiar snap of Caine’s fingers.

Jax whipped round, his heart pounding. No, no, no! He promised her he would stay! He promised to protect her! He let his feet run as fast as they would take him, not letting the red and blue woman leave his sight for a moment. But she was quickly replaced by green, towering hedges covered with the yellow vegetable he had to collect.

Jax begin to pant heavily, panic filling him from head to toe. Would she be alright? They hadn’t left each other’s sides ever since they got their memories back, too afraid to let go as if they were afraid this were only another hope filled dream. Was she alright being on her own? What is something happened to her?

He took a breath, smoothing his hands over his ears until they sprung back up, picking up the basket placed next to him. Curse Caine and his sudden stupid rules. It didn’t matter, all he had to do was pick a few pieces of corn and find an exit. Maybe he would run into Pomni as well? Yeah, that’s what he had to focus on. Finding Pomni.

He plucked a piece of the edge, placing it inside the brown woven basket before walking down the path. He would find Pomni…

He will find Pomni.

Knock, knock

“Come in!” a woman’s voice called through the door.

Riley’s wrapped her hand around the knob of the captain’s office door, with it creaking as it slowly swung open. A slender woman with warm, dark skin and brown locs sat at a table, reading through the files on her desk. Ever since Penny and Jack’s disappearance, it had thrown their entire case for a loop. But that was part of the reason why Riley was here.

“How can I help you Agent Reed?” she asked, looking up briefly before returning her attention to the papers.

“Good afternoon ma’am,” Riley stood straight, hands clasped together in front of her. The perfect picture of professionalism. “I’ve just come to receive a warrant to do a search.”

“State the place and case Reed, and I’ll see what I can do,” Rae nodded, sifting through the dozens of notes.

Riley bit her lip, praying this would work, “C&A industries ma’am, for the Penny Reed and Jack Bloom cases.”

Rae paused, the silence was somehow more deafening than Riley ever imagined it could be. The captain placed the papers down, looking back up at red-haired woman, “Weren’t you there a while ago for your case? Something about seeing if a possible witness was involved somehow?”

“Yes ma’am,” Riley nodded. “And I believe that he might be right. Which is why I’m requesting the warrant.”

“It’s also funny that you mention the case for your sister and Mr Bloom,” said Rae.

Riley raised a brow, “What do you mean?”

“We just received word this morning that the files for the missing persons cases that were related to C&A went missing. I was about to make an announcement but as you can see, because of the recent incidents I’ve become more swamped with paperwork that usual,” Rae sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Riley cringed, “It’s really become that bad?”

“Since Jack Bloom was connected to C&A, it’s opened a whole pipeline,” Rae told her. “Apparently, the company is extremely defensive with being accused of these sorts of things, and it’s not the first time someone disappeared on their property on in relation to them. However we haven’t found any proof that they were involved, so we’re still stuck in limbo until we find something to shut them down.”

“That’s why I’m asking for this warrant ma’am. There might be a chance that C&A have these files,” Riley explained. “Some of the cases had this company involved before, right? Not all, but some? Maybe this could be a good chance to see how they were connected to C&A?”

“You sure you got the right plan for this, Reed?” Rae questioned, raising a brow. Her tone was stern but not demeaning in the slightest. “C&A have a pretty tight record. One slip from us and they’ve got lawyers, attorneys, everything coming after us.”

“As long as we have the warrant, we have the right to say we’re allowed to be there,” Riley said. “I’m not going into this blind ma’am, I’ve got a plan and I know what I’m doing.”

“It’s not that I doubt you Riley, but I do know that this case is personal to you. Since it’s your sister going missing as well,” Rae took note of how the redhead tried not to stiffen up at the mention of her sister. “I just don’t want you going into this with wool over your eyes. I’ve been seeing how you and Winter come into work sometimes. Both of you would never stop grinning and smiling at one another, now it looks like you two have become strangers. I don’t want these cases getting to you to the point where you feel like you’re losing yourselves.”

Riley crossed her arms over her chest, gazing down to the floor as though she were a child being scolded. Every time she saw Winter’s face - downed and saddened from the past few months - she wanted nothing more than to kiss every inch of it. She knew Winter wasn’t ignorant to her attempts to avoid anything that attached Penny’s name to it, like retracting a hand from touching a burning flame. But she saw how it was affecting Winter. She knew that she was only trying to help, yet Riley kept turning away, kept refusing any conversation about how she was feeling. It was making things worse, she knew that. Yet the fear of watching Winter tear herself apart from grief and pain had imprinted itself on her mind, and she just couldn’t muster the courage to try and talk to her wife.

One day Riley promised herself, one day I’ll say something. Just…not now.

“Everything is fine ma’am,” she reassured Rae. “These cases are stressful, but not impossible.”

Rae hummed under her breath, fiddling with her ring finger before saying, “Okay, I’ll send to you later today. You better know what you’re doing.”

Riley grinned, a sigh of relief escaping her, “I do ma’am.”

She gave a quick nod to her superior, turning on her heel and grabbed the door handle before Rae called her one last time, “Riley.” The redhead faced her boss again. “I’m serious, be careful with this. C&A aren’t to be taken lightly.”

The captain’s voice was stoic, serious, holding deep truth that Riley was slightly nervous to ask about. But she knew that Rae was right, they had to be careful with this. “I will ma’am.”

With that, she walked out the office, straightening her blazer. She whipped her phone out of her pocket, typing quickly once it was in her hands.

I got the warrant Samual

Be ready

Riley had told her to wait, just until things were set in stone. But Amber had never felt so restless in her life. Here she was, waiting in her living room by her old computer, with both of her daughters out of reach. Was this really what was expected of her to do? Nothing? For god’s sake! Penny was trapped inside a literal video game and she was supposed to wait?! How could any mother simply do that without complaint?!

Amber groaned, burying her face in her hands before standing and walking to the kitchen. She at least had to do something to keep her mind busy, maybe some tea would help. After all, if she had anymore coffee she was sure she would only get more agitated. She opened the cupboards, her eyes roaming each corner before landing on a familiar yellow box. She reached her hand in to fish it out, sighing with slight melancholy when she saw what type of tea it was.

Chamomile, Penny’s favourite.

Penny who completed half of Amber’s heart with Riley. Penny who wanted others to see the best in themselves when they weren’t able to do so. Penny who had gone through hardship after hardship only to end up in a place that forced her away from her family and into a state of terror.

No. Amber wasn’t going to stand by. She slammed the box onto the counter and marched out the kitchen and up the stairs into the hallway. She could figure out a way to help, even if it was just a little bit. When she made it up the stairs, she reached up to a little strong connected to a trapdoor on her roof, pulling on it carefully as a ladder slid down.

Amber couldn’t remember the last time she had been up the attic, it had seemed it had been decades ago since she stored the last childhood memory of the girls up here. But it held what she needed with the plan in her head. She climbed up the ladder, poking her head up through the trapdoor as coughed from the leftover dust from the wooden floorboards. It had definitely been a while since she had been up here. She lifted herself up inside, taking out her phone to turn on her flashlight. Despite the length of time, she knew where everything was placed and kept in here. Time to get to work.

In a few minutes, Amber had packed a box full of long-lost belongings way back from her time, hopefully it was what she needed as she climbed down the ladder and shut the trapdoor. She made her way back downstairs, placing the box on the coffee table once she was in the living room. She placed her hands on her hips, where would she start? She peered down at the box, filled to the brim with gadgets, old software and objects that she and the girls used to use in a time where technology wasn’t so advanced. She picked up a walkie talkie and a string of fairy lights, perhaps she could start with that. Amber had a long way to go, but still, at least she wasn’t waiting anymore.

She just hoped that this would work a little bit, as long as it helped bring Penny home.

Pomni sighed as she picked up another piece of corn, placing it in her basket. She did panic when she was separated from her fiancé and the others, but so far the adventure didn’t seem to be too hectic. Just a peaceful stroll in the fields while picking corn. She smiled, breathing in the fresh air – as fresh as simulated air could be at least. Doing this reminded her of similar activities she, her mother and sister used to do when they were younger. To get away from work, school, chaos, her father. To just have a day where they could focus on making happy memories. Well, it worked.

It almost felt normal, but…she wished this was something she was doing with Riley and her mother. Riley would lift her onto her back for a ride, despite her younger sister’s protests of not being a child anymore yet would still cling to her like a koala. Amber would be pestering the girls in a way to make them smile, perhaps picking up one of the pieces of corn and waving it like a sword as she chased her daughters.

Pomni gripped the handle of her basket, a shaky breath leaving her lips. She missed them so, so much. She just wanted to go home. She wanted to feel the waft of the warm oaky smell that hit her every time she entered her mother’s home. She wanted to be squeezed in one of Riley’s protective hugs. She wanted to explore every area of her childhood home, to make sure that each place was burned into her mind so she would never forget it ever again. “I miss you guys,” she whispered under her breath, despite the isolation of where she stood.

She shook her head, she had to get a grip. Right now she had to focus on completing this adventure so she could get back to Jax and figure out the next step of their plans. Just as she was about to reach for another piece of the vegetable, a small blue butterfly fluttered out from the leaves and stems. Pomni let out a yelp at the sudden appearance, tripping and falling back, the corn spilling out of the basket as it toppled to the ground. She kicked her feet, backing away from the bug – the last time she was near a butterfly she nearly…

She started to tremble at the memory, internally scolding herself for getting frightened by a single insect. But the feeling of the cold water forcing her down, down, down – burning her lungs as the simulated feeling of being unable to breathe wouldn’t leave her brain. Her chest started to heave with each panicked pant as the butterfly inched closer, fearing that it would glitch if it touched her again and send her into another spiral.

It got closer, she shut her eyes, bracing for that painful static when-

“Don’t be afraid.”

Her eyes snapped open, scanning the area. She swore she heard a voice, like it belonged to an older woman. But it was just her and the butterfly.

“It’s not going to hurt you dear,”

There it was again, “Who’s there?!”

“Just someone who wants to help.”

Pomni scoffed, disbelief curling her lips into strained smile, “How can I trust you if I can’t even see you?”

“I’m sorry. I wish you could, but the rules of this game won’t allow you to see my face. Not anymore.”

The jester raised a brow. Here was a voice, a voice so different, so foreign and unlike anything she had ever heard in the circus before. But for some reason, it didn’t seem bad to trust it. Despite it not actually being her, the voice reminded her of the soft tone her mother used to use to comfort her.

Pomni gulped, looking at the butterfly again. It was simply floating there, no threat lingering in the slightest. Maybe, just maybe. She lifted her hand, her face cringing as she turned away, shoulders stiffening in case that glitch did happen. The tiny feet of the bug landed on her finger. Nothing. No pain, no glitch, just the butterfly resting there as it waited for the jester to make her next move.

She opened her eyes, she was okay. She looked up, trying to detect where that voice came from, “Thank you.” It felt silly, sitting in the dirt as she called out for someone she couldn’t see, but sillier things have happened in this circus. She looked back at the butterfly, letting it crawl across her hand, “Sorry for getting scared earlier. You seem like a friendly guy. I’m sure Kinger would like you.”

The butterfly seemed nice, and it was gentle, but why did the one from before glitch? And why was there a voice this time telling her not to be afraid? With each passing day since she got her memories back, more questions kept opening up. She stood up, picking up her basket and placing the small bug inside, “Guess we’ll need to figure you out later. Hope you don’t mind the corn, I don’t want Caine finding you just in case anything happens.”

The butterfly didn’t seem to mind, already laying down on top one of the vegetables like it was a bed. Pomni smiled, lowering the lid and continued her trail. Now this was definitely going to be an interesting story to tell Jax. She just hoped he was okay.

Jax grumbled as he hit another dead end. He had given up picking up corn a long while ago, settling for trying to find Pomni instead. But each path he took only seemed to lead him down the wrong way, as though the map of this adventure was mocking him. He gripped his ears, pulling slightly. “Easy adventure my @ss Caine,” he muttered under his breath. This was just getting tedious now.

He heard a rustle behind him, making him jump like the type of animal his avatar was. Perhaps it was one of the others? Or maybe Caine added a last-minute boss to try and make things more interesting – yet harder for them. But no, instead it was…him?

At least it looked like him, but much younger. He looked about he was no older than three, his hair shorter while wearing soft clothing stamped in little train patterns. What was going on.

“Come on sweetie!”

A new voice rung out. He looked up, a young couple came up behind the boy, reaching out their hands to him. “We have to start the maze!” the woman said, smiling at the child.

“Okay mama!” the young boy giggled, clutching his hand into hers as the wandered further into the maze.

Jax blinked, his feet trailing behind the trio. He felt like a dog on a leash going after them. Who were these people, why didn’t he remember this? Were they his…his parents? But they couldn’t be possible, his parents left him in social services ever since he was, well, the age the younger version of him here was. But then again, his earliest memory was him in a car going to his very first foster home, nothing before that.

Maybe, just maybe. They weren’t like anything like he pictured them to be, they seemed nice to younger him. Perhaps something else happened, perhaps he really used to be loved.

And so, he followed them. Tracing their lefts and rights, wherever they would go. They seemed like good people, laughing at their little boy’s antics and playing along with whatever imaginary game he came up with. He even felt himself smiling, a tear even escaping his eye at the long-lost image of the family in front of him.

Eventually they stopped, the couple sharing a look before starting down the young boy. Jax froze, what was going on? There was another rustle, a small rabbit jumping out of the stems of corn as it ran down the path. “Honey look!” the mother pointed with a grin. “What’s that?!”

“A bunny!” the little boy replied with excitement, jumping up and down on the spot. Jax’s stomach began to churn.

“It wants you to play tag with it,” the father said. “Don’t leave it waiting.”

“Okay!” the boy nodded, taking a few steps but pausing when he saw his parents weren’t following along. “Aren’t you playing as well?”

“We’ll meet you at the end of the maze,” his mother said, her tone loving despite the dread of this situation building more and more. “You’re a big boy now, I’m sure you can do it on your own.”

“Oh yeah, I can!” the young Jack looked so happy saying that, so unknowing of the true danger he was put in. “I’ll see you soon! Come back little bunny!”

He ran off, chasing the small rodent down the path. Jax shook his head, this couldn’t be happening. Why would they let a kid go off on his own?! What were they thinking. As the boy wandered further down the path, the smiles on the parents faces dropped, grief and tearful fear replacing it instead. The man placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder, rubbing it reassuringly to try and rid some of the guilt that was possibly building inside her.

She nodded to him, taking a deep breath before turning on her heel and walked away in the opposite direction of her son, her husband doing the same. Jax’s heart plummeted, “No, wait!” He cried out, but it only fell on the deaf ears of a forgotten memory. “Don’t do this! Come back!”

He turned in the other direction, that younger version of him was on his own, going after the rabbit in a wild goose chase, to never see his parents again. He chased after him, there was no way this could be true, there was no way.

He saw the boy in front of him, his small form contrasting again the setting sun in the distance. Though this time he wasn’t chasing a rabbit anymore. “Mama! Papa! Where are you!” he wailed, rubbing away tears on his chubby cheeks. “I wanna go home!”

Jax began to shake his head in disbelief, this couldn’t have happened. His parents, they really…left him.

His eyes darted back to where the boy was, but he was gone too, leaving him alone in the field. No parents, no younger him nothing. He was completely and utterly isolated. The rabbit from earlier suddenly jumped out in front of him again, making eye contact with the taller avatar. His nose twitched as the two maintained eye contact, Jax’s eyes blurring with panicked tears.

The rabbit tore off again, leaving him stunned in place, “W-wait! Where are you going!” He chased after it again, just like how his younger self did. “Why are you doing this?! What’s going on?!”

The rabbit didn’t make a noise, it only kept running. Jax did the same, his lungs burning and mind spinning with more questions building as tears streamed down his cheeks. Why was he remembering this now?! How did he even get these memories?! Why him?! Why was this happening to him?!

Why did his parents leave him behind?! Did they just not love him enough to keep him?! But they were crying! They had to have loved him, right? Otherwise they wouldn’t have done that! Or maybe they just couldn’t have them in their lives. He didn’t have a place with them, in the world outside or this world in this game. He was pathetic, useless, he deserved all the bad things that happened to him. HE DESERVED EVERY PAINFUL THING THAT CAME HIS WAY-

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” he screamed, his fingers pulling on the fur on his scalp.

He skidded to a halt, gawking at what was in front of him. His old foster house, where he grew up. It was tattered and broken, the complete opposite to how it looked way back when in appearance, but remained exactly the same with how it made him feel. He sniffed, his hands clutching at his chest as his heart squeezed painfully. There was a reason he was here, wasn’t it? To finally get his comeuppance for every bad deed he caused in his life. For how he acted to others in his past life, to how he treated the others in the circus, and how he hurt Penny.

The house creaked along with the stinging wind that made Jax shiver, as though it were whispering him to go inside. He should go inside. He lifted his foot, about to take another step-

“Jax!”

He stopped, turning back. Pomni’s voice rung out to him in the distance, “Jax! Where are you?!”

She was looking for him.

She cared about him.

She loved him.

Jax smiled, rubbing away the access tears that stained his cheeks. Maybe there was a reason for him to hurt like this, but there was also a reason to keep fighting. Pomni. He looked back to the house, the churning feeling ebbing away slowly though not fully disappearing. Perhaps forgotten things were meant to be forgotten.

He turned on his heel, running back into the maze. He had a jester to find.

The house abandoned once and for all.

“I’ll say it before and I’ll say it again,” said Samual. “This feels just like a movie.”

Riley rolled her eyes as the car pulled up to a corner near the building of C&A. She was fully aware of the déjà vu she was getting, but this time she had the proof in front of her and a case to fulfil. “You go in first and go to the room where the files are. Wait for five minutes then text me to come in,” she instructed to the boy. “If we’re gonna do this, we need to make sure that Jason doesn’t get suspicious.”

“He might be already,” Samual admitted. “After I brought you here, he’s been acting kinda funny.”

“Well we’ll just have to be as careful as we can,” Riley said. “Just do what I told you and come to me if anything happens, I’ve got your back.”

Samual exhaled, mentally preparing himself as he stared at the building ahead of him, “Alright, here goes nothing.”

He climbed out the car, making his way over and inside the tall building. Riley waited until her phone pinged before jumping out herself and making her way over. She did the usual routine of what she would do whenever she got a warrant - go in, check in with the receptionist and have free reign of her search. She took a mental note of how uneasy the receptionist looked when she saw the agent again, Samual was right about Jason being at edge since her last visit. His glass house didn’t seem to be as stable as he wanted it to be anymore.

She made her way to the elevator, checking her phone to see where Samual said he would be waiting for her as the doors shut behind her. As the elevator creaked and shifted as it lifted up, the looming hidden threat of this place started to dawn on the redhead. This company had possibly managed to cover up the disappearances of so many people for nine years, including its own CEO and his wife. And now Penny and Jack were in the belly of the beast as well.

She understood why Rae was so worried with messing up, one mistake could quite literally cost someone their life. Hers, Samual’s, her mother’s, anyone. She had to be careful. The elevator dinged, opening their doors as she stood out and saw Samual at an open door down the hall, signaling for her to come towards him.

Riley nodded, remaining as casual as possible until she reached the room and Samual shutting the door behind her. “Alright, where do we start?” Riley asked, clasping her hands together.

“It should be on this computer,” Samual told her. “Jason doesn’t like keeping stuff like that on his own computer in case he gets caught.”

“So he’d rather have someone else take the fall, how chivalrous,” Riley muttered sarcastically.

“Tell me about it,” Samual muttered. Riley looked over at him with amusement, this was the first time she actually heard him have a bit of an attitude. He sat down, cracking his fingers and rolling his neck as he logged onto the computer. “Okay, I can do this.” He pulled a bag onto his lap, the C&A logo on top as he pulled out a USB. “I snuck into his office the other day. And before you get on at me for doing it before getting the warrant, Jason was gone for the day and it was the only time in the security guards schedule where they weren’t watching his office the whole time.”

“Holy shit kid,” Riley laughed. She should be mad, really she should. But goddamn she couldn’t help but be impressed. “You have guts. So, where exactly are these files in the USB’s?”

“These USB’s have old games codes,” Samual replied. “Sometimes if we have any unfinished demos, we store information in them to make sure other competition don’t try and steal it, to put it in a place where no one would think to find.”

“And if the case files in the USBs, then Jason can carry them around wherever he wants,” Riley finished.

“Yup,” Samual sighed. “Okay, I think I know what to do here.”

In just little time, the kid had managed to open a whole different part on the USB, old coding and files appearing and scattering over the screen. Riley felt as though she had to take a step back from how intense it seemed, but Samual was unfazed a focused, still clicking and typing as though this were as simple as clicking a browser away.

“I got it,” Samual spoke up eventually, turning to Riley and holding his hand out. “You got the other one?”

“Uh, yeah,” Riley reached into her pocket, taking out another USB and placing it into Samual’s hands.

“If we take everything off this, Jason’s gonna get more suspicious,” Samual told her. “I can make copies for you to take back and from there we’ll try and figure a way to get it loaded into the game back at your mom’s place.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Riley agreed, watching him work as she glanced at the door every so often.

It felt as though hours went by, but eventually, Samual had done it. The files were copied and put into the other USB. They had done it. “We got it!” he exclaimed, a small cheer in the back of his tone.

“Looks like it,” Riley grinned, putting the USB back in her pocket. “I gotta get going, before your boss finds out what’s-”

The door slammed open, another feeling of déjà vu and piercing cold fear shooting down Riley and Samual’s backs. “What are you doing back here?!” Jason growled.

Riley sneered at him, crossing her arms as she stood in front of Samual. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice, “I have a warrant to check this place out since the files for our cases went missing. And since your name is the main one on Jack Bloom’s case, that means I have to search the place. AKA, doing my job.”

“What gives you the right to speak to me that way,? Jason sneered.

Riley scoffed, “Other than the fact that I’m trying to find people I care about, you don’t get to speak to me that way either.”

“Oh really?” Jason raised a brow. “I’m sure your boss will disagree.”

He stepped aside, revealing the disappointed face of Captain Rae, almost looking tired as she stepped into the room. Riley paled when another face appeared in the door – Winter. “Winter, Captain Rae, what’s going on?” Riley asked.

“We got a call from Mr Wood that you came here under the guise of a warrant to steal game codes for their rival companies,” Captain Rae sighed. “And since I’m your boss, I had to be taken away from work to make sure my agents aren’t fucking up.”

“Excuse me?!” Riley’s eyes widened, appalled as she started at the man beside her boss, who seemed to be getting smugger when Winter spoke up.

“One of the employees here managed to find Samual taking out property from Mr Wood’s office before calling you,” Winter told her. “They were concerned that you were using the cases in order to make C&A look bad.”

“That’s bullshit!” Riley snapped. “My sister is involved in these cases, do you really think I would risk her safety over fucking game codes?!” Riley was treading on dangerous waters, and she knew it. But no one messed with her sister, especially not some big shot who believed he could get away with this.

“And what exactly is in that computer over there?” Jason pointed out, his tone slightly mocking. Riley’s face fell as she glanced towards the monitor. While she was glad that he didn’t know about the spare USB, she knew that this looked really bad.

Samual stepped forward, “It was my idea!”

Everyone turned to him, even Jason – his face darkening.

Samual gulped as he continued, “I wanted to help Miss Riley with the case and decided to do some unethical routes in order to help her. You can even check the USB, the game codes are still there.”

Jason hummed, pushing past Riley as he, Rae and the others made their way to the computer. Riley nearly sighed with relief when the appearance of the game codes was still there. To the others, it looked like normal files that you expected to find at this company. But to Jason, it meant that his secret was still safe. He straightened his back as he turned back to the others, a faux grin on his face, “It seems that I was mistaken. I do apologize for wasting your time Captain Rae. I just wanted this whole mess taken care of, we wouldn’t want to go to court over this after all.”

“No, we wouldn’t,” Rae retorted in a monotone voice. “We’ll be on our way, thank you for your apology Mr Wood.”

The four walked out the room, Jason’s stare burning on their backs as the door was shut behind him. Rae halted, spinning back round as she went face to face with Riley, “I told you not to be stupid!”

“I wasn’t ma’am,” Riley froze, immediately reverting back to the professional position she was back when she was asking for the warrant. “I did as you told me to. Search with the warrant and try to find out what was going on. I didn’t know he was gonna pull that shit.”

“This isn’t a game Riley, Jason Wood can and will do anything he can in order to keep himself and C&A at the top!” Rae hissed. She stepped back, rubbing her temples to dispel the approaching headache. “Did you at least find anything?”

Riley opened her, mouth about to reveal what she found when clarity struck her. How exactly could she explain this without sounding crazy? She almost didn’t believe Samual when he told her about this, so how could she explain this to her captain? And the files still looked the same as they did from the computer, no other person would be able to tell the difference about how they looked unless they had the tech knowledge that Samual did. All it would show was exactly what Jason had tried to frame her about, “No, I’m sorry.”

Rae exhaled sharply, “Next time you’re gonna be reckless, think twice before landing yourself in hot water, Reed.”

Riley lowered her head to the ground, “Yes ma’am.”

Rae sighed turning back on her heel and walked away.

Winter came up behind her wife, sharing the same scowl as their boss, “We’re talking about this when we get home.” She didn’t let Riley say a word, already walking away and towards the elevator.

Riley rubbed her eyes, this was not how she wanted her day to end. Samual came up, fiddling with his ring finger awkwardly, “I’m really sorry Miss Riley.”

“It’s fine kid,” she mumbled. “You just get home and call me if you need me.”

Samual nodded, not wanting to prod any further as he walked away as well.

Riley just wanted to fade into nothing there and then. What type of hell was she getting herself into?

Winter tapped her foot as she waited in the living room, dressed in a pyjama tank top and shorts with her hair tied into an uneven ponytail. Riley was half an hour late. She already had a habit of obviously avoiding a situation, but this was out in the open with how hard she was trying now. Winter groaned, picking up the bottle of wine of the coffee table in front of her and poured it into a glass, she didn’t want to be sober dealing with this.

She let the liquid run down her throat, relieving some of the stress when she heard the door open. Finally.

Riley shut the door behind her, setting down her bag when she noticed Winter eyeing her down, “Where’s Percy?”

“Asleep,” Winter retorted, setting down the glass. “We need to talk.”

“Listen, I know how that looked back there,” Riley started. “But it wasn’t what you think it was.”

“Really? Riley a CEO of a billion-dollar company almost got you fired!” Winter exclaimed, setting down her glass. “What am I supposed to think?!”

“Everything I’ve been doing was to find Penny and Jack,” Riley told her. “And you really think that I would so something like that?”

“Of course not, but you’ve put me in a corner ever since Penny went missing and left me to gather dust!” Winter cried. “Now all of a sudden you’re sneaking into buildings and won’t tell me why, other than to just blindly trust you! Riley that isn’t fair! You have to tell me what’s going on!”

Riley peered behind her, grimacing at the empty wine glass on the table, “Have you been drinking on a work night.”

Winter placed her hands on her hips, refusing to back down, “I only had one glass, you know that’s all I have on work nights. And it won’t be enough for me to be distracted from this conversation.”

“I’m just thinking about Percy, okay?!” Riley groaned. “Sorry that I want to protect our son!”

“Oh please, not everyone is your father Riley,” Winter growled.

The redhead stiffened, her jaw tightening, “Back down, now.”

“No!” Winter shook her head. “You’re hiding something from me and I know it. All I want is to help you, but you act like I’m nothing but an annoyance to you. And now you’re pulling this shit and nobody will tell me why, not even you! You never keep secrets from me.” Winter’s voice broke, clutching the fabric of her tank top on her chest. “You’re hurting so much and it’s killing me seeing you like this. So why?! Why are you hiding things from me? What did I do?! Why are you allowed to protect me but I’m not allowed to do the same for you?!”

Riley wanted nothing more than to cry and bring Winter into her arms. Everything her wife said was true to a fault. She wanted to tell her about Jack, she wanted to tell her all her plans, she wanted to tell her how the grief and fear of Penny disappearing had been eating her alive for the past few months-

Percy’s cry broke her from spiral, alerting the two mothers. Riley sighed, “I’ll get him.”

Winter tried to stop her, “Riley-”

“Winter, please,” Riley’s voice was soft and desperate. “Please. I just want some silence.”

The other woman sniffed, backing away from her wife. Guilt churned in Riley’s stomach as she watched her wife face away, hearing her light sobs. This was for the best, at least she’s safe. With that, she went up the stairs to her crying baby.

Winter curled up on the sofa. Never before had she wished for her brother as she did now.

Jax gasped as the maze disappeared. He was still chasing after Pomni’s voice, but apparently Caine had announced that Gangle was the winner and brought them all back. He nearly fell to his knees when he saw the jester, she was okay.

“Well that adventure was certainly…an adventure!” Caine boomed. “I don’t fully understand your silly human activities, but tomorrow we’ll return to our regular schedule of fun, fun, FUN!”

“Yeah, yeah, great,” Jax said absentmindedly, his eyes still on Pomni as the jester looked at him, relief in her eyes as well.

“Good to hear your positive spirit Jax!” Caine grinned, about to lift his hand and pat him on the back when the rabbit flinched, arms arched over his head to protect himself.

Everyone gaped at that, Jax never flinched. Pomni brought her hands to her mouth, she knew what that meant.

“I, um. Jax, are you alright?” Caine asked, his tone much softer than it usually was.

Jax blinked, everyone was staring at him. He lowered his arms back to his sides, “I’m fine.”

Pomni bit her lip, he was anything but fine.

Even Caine was surprised by the rabbit’s actions, “Uh…right. Anyways I’m gonna…yeah I’ll just go.” The AI floated away, leaving the group in their stunned silence.

Jax ignored them, rushing to Pomni and dropped to the ground, wrapping her tight in his arms. He was shaking like a leaf, whatever he had seen in that corn maze had left its mark on him. She uncurled herself out of his embrace, holding his face in her hands as she lightly stroked his cheek. “Come on,” she held out her hand.

He hesitated for a moment, before his fingers intertwined with hers. She pulled him up, picking up both of their forgotten backets as she led him back to her room. The others were still staring, but she didn’t care. Right now, Jax needed her.

She shut the door behind her, letting him get comfy on her bed as she put the baskets back down and joined him on the red and blue mattress. “What happened?” it was only one question, but he could hear so much behind it. I’m here for you, tell me anything and everything, you’re safe.

“I-I think I saw myself in that maze?” he said. “Well, myself but younger, much younger. And my birth parents were there. I know, its stupid and stuff like this happens sometimes but…why do I remember this now? I thought I was okay with my past. Now seeing them, it only what makes what my foster family did to me even worse.”

Pomni was silent, taking in every part of what he said, “Show me where it hurts?”

He peered up at her, it had been a while since she said that to him. But both of them knew that what she did next helped more than he could imagine. He raised his arm, the same one that his foster father used to burn his cigarettes on. She held it gently in her hands, pressing gentle kisses to the appendage.

Tears trailed down the dried stain on his cheeks, his arm trembling slightly. She was so careful with him, giving him the kindness that the adults who failed him could never give him. “I know this isn’t much,” she mumbled against his fur. “But I love you more than anything. Those people never deserved you. I wish I could erase all the pain they caused you. All I hope than when I do this.” She pressed a kiss to his wrist. “You know that I’ll be with you despite everything.”

His breath staggered for a bit, it was so long since he felt the overwhelming feeling of being genuinely wanted by someone. His hands cupped her cheeks, pulling her closer and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was messy, frantic but neither of them could pull away, they needed each other.

They parted when the need for air was too strong, with Jax holding her close so Pomni could hear his heartbeat. His head was still swarming, spinning. But her simple touch was all he wanted to think about. All that he needed. The bad stuff wouldn’t go away. However for now, this was enough.

“There’s one more thing I need to tell you,” Pomni mumbled.

Jax pushed off her hat, pressing his nose to her hair as he hummed, “And what’s that?”

“Well,” she separated from him again, the rabbit already missing her warmth as she picked up her basket from the maze. Lifting the lid, she picked up the little butterfly as she cupped it in her hands. “I found this little guy during the adventure. But the way I found him? You’re gonna want to sit back for this…have invisible people ever spoke to you in this place before?”

Fairy lights were strung up, an old tape recorder and radio were placed together on the coffee table, and a walkie talkie was held in Amber’s hands. Hooked into the recorder and radio was a large wire leading to the computer. Amber clenched her fists, it was now or never.

She turned on the walkie talkie, “Penny? Are you there?”

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tightjeansjavi · 2 years ago

Text

Burning in a Hopeless Dream

Boston QZ : Part 10

“Safe & Sound”

Joel Miller x f!o/c

A/N: whew! What a journey this has been thus far. If a man ever treated me as well as Joel treats Gwen? Lord have mercy, I would fold so fucking fast. You’ll be in tears by the end. He’s so sweet to her, and your teeth will start aching. P.S. if you ever wanna write the softest, yet most toe curling smut in your life, just listen to ‘Roslyn’ by Bon Iver on mf repeat.

Summary: 2 weeks has passed since the night you were stabbed by one of Robert’s henchmen. Joel has refused to leave your side as you rest. He’s hopelessly devoted to you. He would do anything, kill anyone, just to see your eyes again.

~word count : 6.5k~

Warnings: implied age gap, established relationship, angst, trauma, brief mentions of PTSD. descriptions of a stab wound healing, hurt, comfort, overwhelming emotions, swearing, underlying possession, mentions of death, fluff, soft!Joel, protective!joel, feelings of guilt, consent, consent, consent, smut, mentions of fingering, teasing, edging, nipple play, praise kink, nicknames, unprotected p in v (wrap it kids) cock warming, after care, joel taking care of you the entire chapter pretty much about sums it all up. (+18) minors dni !

Songs for this chapter:

“Safe & Sound” by Taylor Swift/The Civil Wars

“Roslyn” by Bon Iver/Saint Vincent

“On the Nature of Daylight” by Max Richter

“Here With Me” by d4vd

“I Can’t Go on Without You” by KALEO

“Shelter” by Dorothy

“To Be Alone” by Hozier

“Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” by Engelbert Humperdinck

“Work Song” by Hozier

“Long Long Time” by Linda Ronstadt

“Kiss Me” by Ed Sheeran

April 2021 : Boston QZ

**Gwendolyn Gwen Brooks POV**

**flashback 1 week prior**

The last thing you could remember through your state of deliria was Joel’s voice, pleading with you to open your eyes. “Baby, baby. Hey, baby. Open your eyes dammit, please. Your eyes are so beautiful, Gwen. Please let me see them again.” He stroked your cheekbones gently, tears running down his face. “We’re gonna fix you right up. Gonna stop the bleeding and stitch you up, okay?” He had kissed you then, for the first time. He kissed you with tears wetting his cheeks, leaving salty streaks in their wake. He could taste the blood on your lips from the gash on your head, but he kissed you as if he could breathe life back into you from his lips alone.

His voice sounded fuzzy from the ringing in your ears. Everything around you sounded so far away as you were fighting to stay alive. You weren’t ready to go just yet. The world may have gone to shit, but you still wanted to fucking live. You swore in your last conscious moments, Joel Miller had kissed you.

He kissed you.

He kissed YOU.

You could taste the salty sweat mixed with his tears on his lips. The desperation seeping from his soul as he kissed you. Then, it all went black.

***end of flashback***

There were three times in your 28 years of life where you feared dying. The first was when your parents had gotten infected. 8 years ago, you lived with your immediate and extended family on your uncle’s horse ranch in Northern Michigan. Each year, more of your family was picked off, till it was down to the bare bones. Your parents hadn’t meant to get infected. No one really ever does. They just were in the wrong place, at the wrong time. What hurt the most as you remembered, was the fact that they hid that they had gotten bit. They were too ashamed, too afraid to tell their only daughter that their end was near. You could still remember the sound of their snarls, the dead look in their eyes. The sudden flip of the switch and your mom and dad were attacking you. You pleaded with them to stop. You didn’t want to kill them, but what choice did you have? It was either you, or them. You were the last surviving member of the Brooks family, and you were on the run.

The second time you feared death was getting caught up with some raiders. The group you had formed for the past few years had gotten split up and you were once again, alone and vulnerable. You knew you couldn’t take on a group of men on your own, so you did what you did best, you ran like hell. Right into Joel and Tess. You remembered the fear in your eyes, the adrenaline pumping in your veins as you threw the knife at his face. You had no time to figure out in those moments if these strangers were friends or fo. You were gonna continue to do whatever it took to survive.

The third time you feared death was when James stabbed you back at the abandoned QZ bookstore. The feeling of the blade piercing your gut, the air being knocked out of your lungs. Your anguished cries as you fell back, clutching your wound. Seeing stars behind your eyes from the pain. You could hear Joel’s screams, you could feel his heart pounding against his chest as he lifted you into his arms. His voice pleading with you. This by far, was the moment you feared death the most. You couldn’t run, you couldn’t hide and you were all out of ideas. Joel. Your fellow, your guy, didn’t deserve to deal with you dying in his arms. Despite the odds being stacked against you, you were gonna fight like hell.

______________________

You slept for a week straight. From the blood loss alone, your body was too weak and it needed its rest if you were going to fully recover. Joel was absolutely reluctant to leave your side. In fact, nothing was going to make him budge. Nearly losing you, had psychologically fucked with him. He had gone as far to sleep on the floor, next to the couch where you were resting. He held your hand in his and refused to let go, even when his arm ached and he lost feeling in it. By day 3, Tess had to physically force him to go and shower and change his clothes. He fought her on it in the beginning, but from his own lack of sleep and pure exhaustion, he gave in eventually. His much needed shower lasted all of five minutes. He didn’t care that the water was cold, or that he had gotten a bit of expired soap in his eyes. No, all that mattered was getting back to you on the couch.

Tess had sat beside you then while Joel was showering. She had checked how your wound was healing. Gently lifting your shirt up, she assessed the damage. She was looking for any signs that your wound could be infected and just as she was reaching for the bottle of Penicillin, Joel was coming down the hall, his hair dripping wet and he had a fresh shirt on, his eyes locked on the couch. His footsteps were heavy and fast as he approached and sank down on the end of the coffee table. He reached for your hand then, grabbing it gently in his larger one as he interlocked his fingers with yours. He’d be losing his mind right now if he couldn’t feel the warmth of your palm around his.

“How’s she doin?” He rasped, voice thick with exhaustion and lack of sleep.

“She’s hanging in there. Not out of the woods yet, and I'm still concerned that she’s gonna get an infection, Joel.”

He nodded then, giving your hand a squeeze as he brought it up to his lips, lightly brushing a soft kiss to your knuckles. His eyes focused on your peaceful face. With his free hand, he leaned over the couch, bringing two fingers against the spot where your jaw meets your neck so he could feel your pulse. It was there, but still faint. He retracted his hand then before his eyes zoned in on your wound. He had made sure to change the bandages over the stitches every few hours. He was extremely careful and gentle as he cleaned around the wound. What upset him this morning was seeing the evident blooming bruises scattered about your body. Bruises from James sending the heel of his boot into your gut. He took a deep breath then, exhaling out of his nose as he cleared those thoughts from his mind. He gently pulled your shirt back down over the exposed skin, bringing his free hand up to rub it against his face. It was killing him inside that you weren’t awake yet. He truly had no idea how long till your body would regain its strength again. He’d do anything, kill anyone, just to see your eyes, hear your voice, your laugh–

“Joel?” Tess spoke when he didn’t respond to her immediately. She could tell he was in some deep thoughts.

He blinked a few times, lifting his head up to look at her then.

“I heard you. Just, processing is all. Go ahead and give her some more of that. She’s breathin alright. That’s a good sign, right?”

Tess didn’t want to give him any false hope. If they had the proper tools, if hospitals still existed. Then sure, she’d be comfortable telling him that your chance of survival was pretty damn high. However, with these circumstances, she couldn’t sit there and lie to him and say that you would probably be okay. Especially when she wasn’t so sure of your survival either.

She looked over at him then, taking in the permanent frown etched between his brows. How dull his eyes looked. His lips were severely cracked, bleeding in some areas of the delicate skin. She expected he probably had picked at them till they bled as a distraction. To put it simply, the man looked miserable.

“Yeah, it's a good sign that she’s breathing Joel. We can’t get our hopes up right away, we don’t know if she’s going to–”

He cut her off then, his jaw clenching and unclenching. You were not going to die.

“No, Tess. Don’t say another word. Her body is just restin. She’s gonna be fine. Don’t you dare go speakin like that.”

She reached over to him then, gently squeezing his knee before she grabbed the bottle of penicillin beside him and extracted the liquid through the needle. She injected it in the same section of your arm that he had. Once the medicine was administered, she set the vial and needle back down beside him.

“You should really think about maybe getting out of the apartment for a few hours Joel. I can stay here with her and watch over her. You haven’t seen the sun in days, and it really might do you some good.”

He shook his head immediately. There was no way in fucking hell that he was going to leave your side for more than 5 minutes. He gave into finally taking a shower, but leaving the apartment, leaving you like this was not an option in his mind.

“No. I ain’t leavin her side Tess. Don’t ask me again, please.”

She let out a sigh then. Knowing that he wasn’t going to budge anytime soon.

“Alright, fine. It was just a suggestion. Just thought y’know it maybe would do you some good.” She got up from the couch then, grabbing her worn backpack off the chair in the kitchen.

“The only thing that’s gonna be doin me any good is staying here, by her side Tess. If I leave, even just for a bit, I can’t protect her. She’s fuckin vulnerable right now.”

Tess had looked over at him then as she slung her backpack over her shoulder, tucking her gun away. It broke her heart to see him this distraught. She may have let him go, but she still deeply cared for him and nothing was going to change that.

“Alright, I get it. I won’t mention it again, okay? I’ll be back later. Try to sleep, if you can.”

She gave him one last once over, with a slight nod, before she left the apartment. Quietly shutting the door behind her and locking it.

Joel knew that Tess was only thinking of the best for him. He just truly could not fathom leaving your side. He slowly stood from the coffee table, only to sink down onto the floor, on his knees, still grasping your hand. He used his free hand to lightly brush a few strands of hair from your delicate face. “Hey, don’t listen to her shit okay? I ain’t goin anywhere and you’re not dyin. Not on my fuckin watch.”

His forehead slowly came to rest upon your exposed arm as he closed his eyes for a moment.

“Look, honey. I would literally do anything, kill anyone just to fuckin see your eyes again Gwen. You take your time though, okay? Just, please get better. I’ll be here waiting for you, just like I promised. Remember that?” He waited for some miracle to happen. That suddenly your wound would be healed, and you’d open your eyes. He was grimly reminded that this wasn’t a fairytale. He wasn’t the prince charming who could wake you from his kiss alone. You weren’t the princess either. You both were just two people who endured the harsh reality of survival.

_______

For the next few days, Joel continued to be by your side. You started to show some improvement. It was nearly unnoticeable, but it was enough for his spirits to lift. He found himself talking to you more. It gave him some form of comfort, minimal at most, but it was something. He’d talk to you about Texas, his brother Tommy, Sarah, and how she probably would have fuckin adored you. He tells you about the painted portrait of you that Frank made, and how he’s going to give it to you as soon as you wake up. He tells you how he keeps the painting in his shirt pocket at all times, right against his heart. He even reads to you. He hopes that somehow, all of these one-sided conversations he has, will somehow coax you awake. Each kiss to your head, each gentle squeeze to your hand, has him hoping that you can feel it. That you can feel and hear him all around you, and that you're wishing you could open your eyes and see him too. Just as badly as he’s dying to see you.

By day 7, you were beginning to show increasing signs of improvement. Your breathing wasn’t as shallow, the color was slowly returning to your face and thanks to the penicillin, you surpassed getting an infection. Your body was still very much in pain, and you had a long way to go before you could be on your feet again. It was early evening when your fingers twitched the slightest in Joel’s hand. He hadn’t felt it at first, until your fingers had flexed again and he sat up immediately. Glancing down at your fingers interlocked with his. You moved them again, and his heart skipped a fucking beat. “Baby? Hey, honey. Can ya hear me?” His tone was incredibly gentle as he looked down at your face, waiting for the moment that you would open your eyes, anticipating it. Joel’s voice sounded closer, less fuzzy and more clear. You were slowly gaining your consciousness back and Joel was right there, just like he promised. When your eyes finally fluttered open, you had no recollection of where you were, and why there was a sudden dull pain coursing through your lower abdomen. Then, it all came rushing back. James, the knife, Joel. You panicked. Your body was trembling, eyes wide and frantic as you quickly sat up, wincing from the pain. You couldn’t form words, you were a shell of yourself and James had fucked you up, that was evident. You could feel Joel’s calloused, warm palms cupping your face. His touch was so gentle, you almost didn't feel it. His warm brown eyes were looking into your frantic ones. “Hey, hey. Look, Gwen. It’s me. It’s me. You’re okay, you’re safe. Y o u a r e s a f e.” He spoke to you reassuringly, his eyes stricken with concern as he looked at you.

You were in disbelief that he was really there. Your lips had parted open then, processing your conscious state. What you did next, threw Joel for a loop. You had gently grabbed his face then, and kissed him. There were fresh tears rolling down your cheeks as you went through an overwhelming amount of emotions. You felt like you were being hit by a fucking freight train. Over, and over again. A choked sob slipped past your throat then as he kissed you back. As soon as you broke down, Joel was cradling you against his chest as you clutched his shirt between your fists, gasping for air. The choked, anguished sounds emitting from your chest, shattered Joel to his core. “Hey, Gwen. Shh..shh..honey, it’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you now. I’ve got you.” He had whispered softly against your hair. His one hand was gently holding the back of your head, while the other was resting against your lower back.

You struggled to take deep breaths then as he held you. It felt like your tears were neverending, heavy like a rainstorm as they trickled down your chin. You spoke finally, your voice was raw and cracked. “J-Joel i’m sorry I–shouldn’t have i’m sorry–” He cut you off in a hushed tone then, you had nothing to be sorry for, certainly not for kissing him. That was the last thing he wanted you to be upset at yourself for. “Gwen, honey. You don’t gotta apologize for that. Okay?”

You slowly lifted your chin from his shirt then, eyes glassy and your cheeks flushed and wet with salty tears. Your lower lip was quivering as you slowly nodded. “Okay.” You whispered softly.

“What can I do to..comfort you? I’ll do anythin, okay? Just name it. I hate seein you like this baby. Fuckin tearing me up inside.” He watched as you rested your cheek against his chest once more, your fingers had loosened their tight grip around his shirt now, but you weren’t going to let go anytime soon.

“Just–please hold me. Please, just hold me.”

He nodded then. Bringing his hand that rested against your lower back, higher up, pulling you into him as physically close as possible. Even then, that wasn’t enough.

“I can do that honey. I won’t let go, I promise.” Even when his arms began to ache, he refused to let go of you.

____________________

Sometime after, you had fallen asleep in Joel’s arms. You were exhausted and it was clear that your body needed more rest. He didn’t have the heart to wake you from your peaceful slumber so he instead carefully lifted you from the couch. His knees cracked slightly, and his back ached but he didn’t care about any of that. He quietly carried you to your room, setting you down upon the crumpled sheets. As soon as you could no longer feel his touch, you subconsciously reached for him. Your fingers were outstretched in his direction, searching for him. “Joel.” You whispered into the darkness.

“I’m right here, honey.” He answered right back. You could feel the bed dip down slightly from his body easing onto the mattress. You felt his strong arms slide around your smaller frame, pulling you into his chest gently. “M’right here.” He rasped out. He had pressed a feather light kiss to your forehead then. “Rest now, sugar. You’re safe.” His voice was like whiskey, smooth, warm, and comforting. That’s all it took to lull you back to sleep. Joel fought his own exhaustion then, forcing his eyes to stay open for as long as he could. He intended from this moment forward, to always keep you safe. When he could no longer fight to stay awake, his eyes fluttered shut. His dreams flourished with images of you.

You found it incredibly easy to slip into a routine with Joel. Not that you had much of a choice in the matter. He wouldn’t let you out of his sight. Not wanting you to exert too much energy. This man had gone from a big fat grump, to being overly protective of you. Not that you were really complaining. The thing was, you didn’t view Joel as your boyfriend now. The title seemed too cliche. You weren’t into the cliches, and neither was he. Your relationship was complicated, raw, and very much real. He spent every waking minute with you now. This level of domesticity was something that you had always craved, but never thought you’d ever get the pleasures of enjoying. Joel had no issues giving this pleasure to you. He found it to be just as comfortable as you did. He’d truly be okay with taking whatever it was that you’d offer him. Just having a small piece of you meant the world to him. You evaded talking about what had happened, nearly a month ago now. He didn’t push you to talk about it. If and when you were ready, he’d be there to listen. You had taken notice of Tess's continuous absence from the apartment. You hadn't seen her since that night. Joel assured you that Tess was fine, she was off doing her thing, whatever that had meant.

You could tell that the seasons were changing just by the warmth of the sun seeping in through the windows. It was comforting. Spring was in full bloom and you just wished for a moment, that you and Joel weren’t in this apartment. That instead, you were somewhere far away, tucked in a cozy cottage in the woods. It was a nice dream to have, as long as you realized it would never come true. Joel was comfortably sprawled out on the couch with your back resting against his chest. You still were getting used to the fact that Joel fucking Miller, enjoyed a good book now. You’d cause this man to turn absolutely soft. These moments were for your eyes, and your eyes only. Something had washed over you in those next few moments as you listened to Joel’s steady heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest, his light chuckle at something he had read, the sound of the worn paper being flipped to the next page. Joel Miller was entirely yours.

You had carefully sat up then, turning so you were facing him now. His eyes flickered up to yours momentarily with a raise of his brow. You had delicately wrapped your fingers over the top of the book’s worn spine and coaxed it out of his grasp, tossing it onto the coffee table with a soft thud.

He made a slight sound of protest then. “Sugar, why’d you go and do that huh? I was still readin–” He was cut off by your finger tip lightly pressing to his lips then, silencing him. Joel was stunned, to say the least. You had slowly sank down into his lap then, straddling his hips, stealing the oxygen from his lungs.

“Is this okay?” You asked him then and his heart nearly burst right then and there.

“Huh? Yeah, honey course this is fine. What’re you up to?” His tone was light, and held a sense of amusement. He watched your face carefully then as he slowly dragged his hands up your thighs and settled them around your waist, playing with the ends of your frayed shirt. One that you had stolen from him.

“Can I kiss you, please?”

He let out a deep, throaty chuckle then. You were killin him slowly without even realizing it.

“Yeah, ‘darlin, Course you can. You don’t need to ask me twice.” He teased.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Why were you so nervous? This was Joel, your Joel. Your fellow, your guy.

The feeling of his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against the soft skin on your hip bones was enough to coax you from your thoughts and back to reality. You leaned down then, cupping his strong jaw in your hand, your eyes locked on his, you were both anticipating the moment. Time seemed to stop when you had finally kissed him. His eyes fluttered shut, his fingers grasping firmly to your skin. Your lips were so sweet and he could easily find himself getting drunk off kissing you. you were his favorite drug by far. Your breaths were in sync as you kissed him languidly. You wanted to savor this fucking moment. Your chest was flush against his now. His kisses became desperate, needy. His teeth clashed against yours as he allowed himself the freedom of being completely consumed in you. He nipped your lower lip lightly then, letting his hands slip under your thin shirt, feeling the expanse of your warm skin beneath his touch.

“Tell me if it becomes too much. Don’t wanna overwhelm you.” He mumbled against your lips.

“Please, keep going.” Was your immediate response. There was zero hesitation behind your words. You wanted him as terribly as he wanted you. Your fingers were already toying with the buttons on his flannel as you detached your lips from his and started to pepper kisses along his jaw. He let out a hum of appreciation.

“Sit up honey.” His tone was huskier now, dripping with the desire for you.

You slowly sat up then, your cheeks were flushed and your lips were swollen from his kisses. You watched as Joel slowly began to lift your shirt from the hem. His eyes never left yours as more of your skin was revealed. He sat up slightly then gently gliding the fabric up your torso, over your breasts and finally, your head. The fabric was discarded to the side then. His fingers reached out and lightly brushed against your imperfect skin. Littered with scars, indents, you were like his own personal constellation. His thumb had brushed against the stitching on your abdomen then. You sucked in a harsh breath from the contact.

“You’re so fucking beautiful Gwen.” He breathed out.

Now you were the one left in shock. The butterflies swirled deep in the pit of your stomach and your head was spinning.

“Cat got your tongue, ‘darlin?”

He had a small smirk on his face now and you could see his dimple peeking out. God, this mother fucker was so handsome, you could melt into a puddle right now. “Shut up. You just always know what to say and frankly? It’s annoying as hell.”

He chuckled then, wrapping his arms around you, tilting his head down to be level with yours before he captured your lips in another searing kiss.

“Mmm. I tend to have that effect on ya sugar. What can I say?”

His lips had sinfully dipped from yours and made their descent down your jaw, nipping at the spot where your jaw met your neck. You immediately leaned into him then, stifling a quiet moan. He had found your sweet spot with ease. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Miller. I swear to god.”

“Ditto, Sugar.” You could feel his slick smirk against your searing skin. Your mouth fell open when he had sucked harshly at your thin skin, leaving marks in their wake. When his lips dipped lower, and lower, the need for more was becoming nearly unbearable. He had licked a hot stripe between the valley of your breasts. Your fingers had found their way into his hair, gripping his soft curls as you let your nails lightly scratch his scalp.

When his mouth finally enclosed around your nipple, you nearly fell apart. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin, biting down slightly causing you to jolt from the sensation.

“Fuck.” You gasped.

He hummed in response, bringing his other hand around the swell of your untouched breast. Toying with your nipple between his thumb and forefinger while his mouth continued to expertly worked the other. It was a delicious combination, the way his mouth and fingers played you like a violin. You found yourself grasping his hair tighter, yanking him up suddenly before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips drinking in his low chuckle that rumbled from deep within his chest.

“I wasn’t done with ya yet. You’re a needy little thing, huh?”

“Shut up, Joel.” You mumbled against his lips and in one swift movement, he had turned the tables, flipping you gently so you were underneath him now. Your back hit the couch with a soft thud before his lips were on yours once more. Your fingers frantically began to undo the buttons of his flannel. He broke the kiss only to help you out with the last few before you were pushing the fabric down his broad shoulders and biceps. It was soon discarded with your shirt on the floor. Your lips met once more, desperation seeping through both of you.

“I’m gonna take care of ya, okay honey? Will you let me do that, please?”

You were nearly clawing at his skin now, your nails lightly scraping his biceps.

“Please, Joel. Don’t make me beg you.”

He nipped at your lip once more, tugging it out with his teeth before he released it.

“Ain’t gonna go and put you through that kinda torture, sugar. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. I got you.” His forehead was lightly resting against yours now, his lips barely touching yours. He was the devil, you were certain of it. He watched your eyes intently then as he slowly dragged his hand down your torso, brushing against your navel. Your skin felt electrified from his touch then as his hand dipped lower, and lower.

“G’nna take these off now, okay honey?”

All you could do was nod, your breath was caught in your throat and he had barely touched you yet. You felt his hand grasp the waistband of your sweats then, slowly pulling them down over your hip and thighs and past your ankles. He was taking his sweet time with you, and it was driving you crazy. His hand came between your inner thighs then, coaxing them open, not that he even had to try. His fingers had slowly dipped down under your panties, toying with your slick folds as he spread them open.

“Wet for me already, hm? You're absolutely drippin for me baby.” His words were straight filth to your ears as you felt your back arch up towards him, lips parted open, a low moan slipping past them.

He toyed with your clit then, moving his fingers in expert slow circles, applying just enough pressure for you to mewl. His fingers were slick with your arousal then as he brought his middle finger down lower, circling your entrance as he slipped it into your warmth, slowly. His finger was knuckle deep as he curled it against the spongy spot of your walls. As your moans slipped out of your parted lips freely, he drank them in, kissing you once more as he slipped his forefinger in and slowly began to pump them in and out of you. Listening to the squelching sounds of your pussy clamping down around his thick digits.

You were a mess already as you kissed him, your lips struggling to keep up with his as he continued to ruin you with his fingers. His free hand had reached up to cup your face then, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb as he watched you slip into pleasure.

“Feels good, doesn’t it Sugar? You’re takin my fingers so well baby. You can hold on a little longer, can’t you honey?” He had used his thumb to circle your clit once more as he increased the pace of his fingers, curling them inside you once more.

You let out a strangled moan, your eyes rolling back into your skull.

“I-I can hold on a little longer baby, fuck.”

His lips curved up then from your response. He took note of how you called him baby and god, did he love it.

“That’s it. Good girl. You’re such a good girl for me honey.” He praised you then. One last curl of his fingers deep inside you, nearly had you on the edge. Before you could be seeing stars, he had slipped his fingers out. They were coated in your arousal and you watched with hooded eyes, in a daze as he slipped them past his lips, licking his fingers clean right before your very eyes. This man was the definition of Filth.

“You taste so fuckin sweet honey. G’nna have to get a proper taste of you later, okay? It’ll be my treat. You’ll love it, I promise.”

He was kissing you again, letting you have a taste of yourself against his lips. You wanted him even more now, if that was even possible. Skin on skin with him buried to the hilt inside of you. Your two bodies connected, that’s what you really wanted.

You were grasping for his belt then, undoing his buckle in a haste. He had grabbed your wrist gently then, ceasing your movements. “Joel, please. I need you, I need all of you.”

“You sure, sugar?” He wanted all of you too, more than ever now but this wouldn’t just be fucking, not like the first time. He knew this would mean a hell of a lot more to both of you.

You sat up then, grabbing his face in your hands gently, stroking your thumbs along the coarse stubble of his beard. Your chest was rising and falling at a quick rate as you were coming down from your near orgasm moments ago.

“Joel, baby. I’m more than sure. I’ve never been more fuckin sure of anything in my entire life.” Your confession knocked into him, your words stealing the air from his lungs.

“I’m yours.” He whispered, bringing his hands to rest along your cheeks then, using his thumb to brush a strand of loose hair behind your ear, his forehead resting against yours. You both were silent as the moment washed over. The realization, the excitement that bubbled between you. The chemistry was palpable, and electric. Suddenly, he was kissing you again, slow, deep, intimately. There was nothing but passion emitting from his lips. While his fingers gently pushed your panties down past your ankles, you worked his jeans down, giggling lightly in between kisses as he struggled to kick them off.

“Damn fuckin things. Always gettin in the fuckin way.” His Texas accent was thick now and when he finally kicked them damned things off, he wasted no time to rid himself of his boxers now as he settled between your thighs, his tip lightly pressing against your slick folds. He grabbed the back of your thighs then, gently yanking you down so you were beneath him. The movement caused the length of his cock to slide up between your slick folds.

You both let out a low hiss from the friction.

His lips hovered above yours as he grabbed the base of his cock, inhaling as he slowly sunk his tip past your folds, sinking into your deep warmth, his eyes flickering to where your bodies connected, watching as he disappeared inside of you completely. Your sweet moans intertwined with his low groans. He dipped his head down, capturing your lips between his as you brought your arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him in as close as physically possible as he thrust his hips slowly, at first. Your nails scraped at his skin then as he quickened his pace, giving one sharp thrust that knocked you back slightly. He detached his lips from yours so he could watch your face, see your mouth fall open, watch your breasts bounce with each sharp thrust.

“Fuck, honey. You feel so fuckin good. God, I'm gonna get drunk off you and this pretty little pussy. You’re killin me, Gwen.”

He grasped your thighs then, bringing them around his hips so he could fuck you at a deeper angle. You immediately caught on, digging the heels of your feet into his ass, bringing him in closer as he continued to fuck you. In his haste, he brought his thumb down between where your bodies were connected. He vigorously started to rub circles against your already sensitive clit, he wanted you to cum before he would even get the chance.

“Joel, i’m close baby, i’m so fuckin close.” You could taste the impending orgasm on your tongue as you moaned out his name.

“I know you are ‘darlin. Doin so good baby. You’re takin me so fuckin well. G’nna get you there alright?” He gruffly spoke, snapping his hips once more before his thrusts started to become uncoordinated and sloppy. He continued rubbing your clit, you were nearly seeing stars as a strangled sob of pleasure wrecked through your body.

“That’s it baby, that’s it. Cum for me honey. C’mon, let go. I’ve got ya, you’re safe.”

One final thrust, and flick of your sensitive bundle of nerves had you falling apart around him. Your thighs were shaking as he held himself at the hilt inside of you. He came undone as quickly as you had. You were chanting his name like a fucking oath and he cut you off with his lips, kissing you sloppily as he groaned out your name, mumbling into your lips about how good you were for him, how fuckin beautiful you were. He rested his sweaty forehead against your shoulder, his eyes were closed as he panted heavily. You brought your hand up into his sweat soaked hair, running your fingers through it as you cradled his head gently. He stayed buried inside of you, even after he had gone soft. Neither of you wanted to be separated from each other just yet.

Once both of your breathing was no longer jagged, and your heart rates turned to normal, Joel had turned his head to look at you, a lazy smile gracing his features. He looked drunk off sex, so did you.

“How was that darlin? Did I do alright?”

You couldn’t help but giggle then. It was such a sweet sound to his ears and he liked that you were holding him so close. Your comfort was appreciated 1000 times over.

“You silly fuckin man, you did more than alright. You were amazin.” You had a soft smile on your lips as well and he couldn’t help but lean in, kissing you sweetly before he pulled away and pecked your nose, causing you to giggle again.

“Mmm, good. Just needa ya to inflate my ego a bit, honey.”

You gave his shoulder a light slap and he chuckled from it.

“You, Joel Miller, can be an insufferable bastard when you wanna be.” Your tone was light and playful as you continued to lightly play with his hair.

“You’re right on the head with that one ‘darlin. You enjoy it though. I’ll keep doin it if it means I get to hear your laugh. You’re adorable.”

“Shut up, I'm still recovering and you’re gonna make me blush!”

“Good.” He spoke lowly with a smirk on his face before he had slowly slipped out of you. He gave you one last kiss before he reached for his boxers and slipped them on, handing you your panties.

“Hang tight, okay honey? Gonna get you a towel, glass of water and a fresh shirt, okay?”

You watched as he stood then, checking out the way his back muscles flexed. God, you were so fucking lucky.

“Goin all gentlemanly on me now, Miller?”

He looked back at you then, grin on his face as he nodded.

“Had to bring that southern charm out on ya eventually honey. You deserve it. Now, you just sit there and look pretty for me.” He winked then and you reached down grabbing his shirt from the floor and chucked it at him. He caught it, no problem. Bastard.

Joel returned to you minutes later, a fresh shirt in hand and a towel. He leaned down then gently wiping between your thighs. He was very attentive as he cleaned you up. You had never had a man take care of you like this before. Sure, you had your fair share of partners in the past, none were like your Joel. Nothing was ever going to compare to him. He had you sit up then as he slid the fresh shirt over your arms, stealing a kiss before he padded off to the kitchen. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, bringing the collar of his shirt to your nose, it smelled of him. It smelled of home.

He handed you a glass of water then, before he sank down beside you, bringing his arm around you, leaning over and kissed your cheek sweetly as you took a sip of the water, settling against his warm, bare chest.

A comfortable silence washed over both you and Joel as you both recovered from your post-sex activities. A warmth had settled over you and couldn’t help but brush your fingers across his jaw lightly, taking in the way he smiled at you. It was a rare sight for Joel Miller to smile. He saved those moments for you. Tonight, he had given himself entirely to you. He was allowing himself the freedom to feel again. It was hard for him to even try and put into words how you made him feel. The one thing he did know, was that he was forever grateful that you stepped into his life. You brightened it in more ways than you’d ever know.

You had gotten the best sleep in your entire fucking life that night. All thanks to Joel Miller. your fellow, your guy.

Chapter 11 :

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ssuperficialspacecadett · 1 year ago

Text

Afterglow

Chapter Twelve of the Through the Scope series | Chapter Thirteen

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5.5K

Chapter Overview: Frankie brings Estrella lunch & more than one secret is exchanged between group members

TW: p in v penetration, sex in public (sort of), mentions of past sexual assault, trauma and PTSD

Notes: hey everyone !! cheers to me for not taking a month to put out this chapter lololol,, i think this one might be in my top three of the chapters i've written for through the scope so please let me know what y'all think ! as usual...my asks are always open & happy reading <3

*no use of y/n & female presenting reader*

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You haven’t seen your dad in a little over a week so there is a lot to catch each other up on. When you get there, he isn’t using a cane this time. He traded in his singular cane for two forearm crutches. You aren’t sure if this signals an improvement or a decline and guilt sweeps through your body. Maybe if you had been here instead of with the guys, you would know the answer to your mental question. You moved here to support him after all. It feels like your life is being pulled in two separate directions and it's killing you that you haven’t had time to finally unify them.

You’re nervous to tell your dad about Frankie. It doesn’t have anything to do with being ashamed or embarrassed of him, but it has always been easier to talk with your mom about boys and dating. Moments like this cause you to miss her more than normal. After the both of you discuss his weekly progress and PT sessions, you decide to change the subject. You know that he’s tired of having to talk about his recovery all the time even though he would never turn you down if and when you asked.

“So, what’s new with you and your girlfriend?”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. It feels weird to inquire about a prospective suitor in your dad’s life. You’re not ignorant to the fact that he may be lonely, but it doesn’t take away the strangeness of it. Your mother was the first love of his life, yet that doesn’t mean that she has to be the last.

“The date went well if that’s what you’re getting at.”

You realize that he must be just as nervous to talk to you about Maggie as you are to talk to him about Frankie.

“Are you going to see her again?”

“I see her everyday.” He snorts sarcastically. Although, when he sees that you’re less than amused with his joke he pipes up again. “Yeah, I think so. I want to get strong enough to take her to a restaurant. I know I said that the place doesn’t matter, but I’m getting restless.”

“But not before our car show, right? You said you wanted to do that first.”

“But not before the car show.” He echos. “Don’t worry, Sweet Pea. You’re still my number one girl.” His hand comes to rest over yours lovingly. “How’s work coming along? And your friends?”

“Work is going really great. I actually like what I do if you can believe it or not. The fights we host on Friday nights have also been a blast to watch.” He didn’t need to know that you spent the last fight night parading around half naked for a room full of drunk men and women. Even if you are an adult, some things are better kept secret. “My friends are great too.”

“Is that why you haven’t been stopping by as frequently lately?”

There is no disappointment or sadness in his voice when he asks you this question. If anything, you think you can detect some happiness and hope.

“Sort of.” You fidget around in your chair. “I had actually been seeing one of them for a few weeks, Frankie, and he asked me to be his girlfriend the other day.”

“Did he now?” He sits up straighter and has adopted a more protective, fatherly tone.

“Yes, he did.” You answer without bothering to hide your growing smile. “He’s so wonderful, dad. He has been nothing but kind and caring since I met him. All the guys have been, if I’m being honest, but I was only ever interested in Frankie.”

“What does he do for a living?”

You can feel your dad trying to mentally size him up.

“He’s a mechanic at a local auto body shop currently, but he was a pilot in the military before that. All of the guys served together.”

“A man who works with his hands and who served his country. That’s very respectable.”

“I think so.” Your voice sounds proud in your ears.

Your dad is traditional, for better or for worse, so you knew he would be pleased with Frankie’s occupations. He kept asking you questions about Frankie which you happily answered, but you never let his tumultuous past come into the conversation. Yes, that’s a part of Frankie, but that isn’t who he is anymore.

“I want to meet this man.” Your dad says finally. “I want to see who’s got you smiling like this.”

“Maybe he can come to the car show with us and you can meet him then? It’s still a very new relationship, you know. That way I’ll have some extra time to see if it’s serious or not. I don’t want to waste your time with someone I’m not going to keep around.”

You are surprised when he readily agrees with your proposal. You were sure he was going to fight you on meeting Frankie sooner, not that you minded, but it's nice to know that he trusts your judgment.

“It might be refreshing to have someone there that actually knows a thing or two about cars.” He teases.

“Maybe he’ll give you a run for your money knowledge wise, huh?” You joke back.

You hang out with him for about another hour before y’all call it a night. As you walk to your car you recall what you told your dad. I don’t want to waste your time with someone I’m not going to keep around. The truth is that you know Frankie is someone worth keeping around. You can feel it in your very bones. You know that the care you have for him now will only grow in the coming months and you can’t wait to see what it blooms into you. Although, you already have a small idea.

***

“I’m goin’ to have to miss our lunch today.” Benny rounds the brick wall and walks up to the side of your desk patting his forehead with a towel. “I have been meanin’ to go down to the police station ever since Rochelle went ballistic.”

“Wait, what?” You spin your chair to face him, handing him a water bottle. “I thought everything got taken care of that night? How come you are going down there?”

“The officers and I got to talkin’ and they told me that I could file a restrainin’ order against her. Would have done it right then and there if it didn’t have so much damn paperwork involved. I just want to make sure that it never happens again, for both your and Fish’s sake.”

“Oh, Benny.” You reach up and rub his arm.

“Think you can hold it down for at least a couple of hours? I’m not sure how long everythin’ will take me to complete.” He places his hand over yours and you aren’t sure who’s comforting who anymore.

“I can handle it. Don’t worry about me.” You turn your attention to the computer. “Your Thursday schedule is really light too. Just a few one on one sessions late this afternoon.”

He nods approvingly before heading back into the gym. “I’m goin’ to head out in about 10 minutes then. Don’t miss me too much.”

“I’ll be counting the seconds until you come back.” You say in a sarcastic, dreamy voice.

As soon as Benny heads back, you whip out your phone to text Frankie.

You: Please tell me you haven’t taken your lunch break yet.

Frankie: I was going to clock out for it in about 15 minutes. Why? What’s up?

You: Benny has to leave for a few hours to run some errands…maybe you could have lunch over here today? Just you and me?

Frankie: I would love that, cariño. Too bad the rest of the gym rats can’t run some errands too.

A cheeky grin splays across your face as you type your next message.

You: It would be a shame if the ‘open’ sign accidentally flipped to ‘closed’ when you got here…wouldn't it?

Frankie: Such a shame indeed.

You: I’ll text you when he heads out! I can’t wait to see you, Frankie (:

The Miller boys are nothing if not punctual. Benny heads out exactly when he said he would with promises of being back in time for his sessions later this evening. You’re so excited that you fire off a ‘coast is clear’ text to Frankie before Benny has even finished pulling out of the parking lot.

Frankie: On my way to you, Estrella.

You feel giddy like you have never felt before. This feeling warms your entire body, but turns into a raging fire when you see that familiar white truck pull into view 20 minutes later. He hops out cradling a takeout bag in his arms. You eagerly greet him at the front door and rise up on your tiptoes to hug him.

“How’s your day been?” He asks before stealing a kiss.

The domesticity of the question makes your heart flutter.

“It’s much better now. And yours?”

“I think I have to agree.”

He takes your hand and starts to lead the both of you back to your desk.

“Oh, wait! Before I forget!” You flip the sign on the door to display the ‘closed’ side. “Okay, now we can eat.”

He laughs to himself while he starts to unpack the food he brought. It’s a sound that makes your knees weak. Turns out he got y’all sandwiches from a place by his work that he had been wanting you to try.

“I made sure that they didn’t put anything on it that you didn’t like.” He says sliding your meal over to you gingerly. “And I made sure that they put extra of what you love.”

For some reason, Frankie remembering something so small about you has you extremely turned on. You feel crazy for wanting to jump his bones over something as mundane as meat in between bread, but you can’t help it. Maybe it’s the fact that he did all this out of the kindness of his heart or maybe it’s the fact that he looks so excited for you to try it. Regardless, you need him right now.

“Have you-have you ever had a tour of the gym?” If you were any less horny, you would be embarrassed at how clearly you can hear the desperation in your voice.

He looks slightly confused at your sudden topic change. “Sure. I mean we helped Benny furnish the place back when he bought it.” Your growing need for him must have been plastered across your face because realization settles over him. “But maybe you have something to show me?”

You hum in response and curl your finger at him to follow you back into the gym. Walking past the workout benches, the boxing ring, and the heavy bags you hold your breath. Frankie footsteps are quick and heavy behind yours as you make a beeline for the laundry room. You open the door to slip inside and feel yourself clench around nothing when he slams the door closed behind him. Faster than you can comprehend, Frankie grabs your arm and spins you around to face him. His lips are attacking yours in a crazed frenzy. Your senses are being drowned out by his heavy breathing and his hands hungrily roaming your body. As your arms wrap around his neck, his own circle your lower back and lift you off the ground. You can feel the burn of the cold metal against your thighs since you decided to dawn a tennis skirt this morning. The abrupt change in temperature causes you to breathe in quickly and you smile as he tugs at your lower lip.

“Like what you see on my tour?” Your breaths are ragged as he has moved on to devour the side of your neck.

“Like is an understatement.”

He continues to kiss red marks on your skin, that you will inevitably have to cover up later, as you work at unfastening his belt and unzipping his jeans. When you achieve your goal, he helps finish the rest. Frankie steps back and pulls himself up and over his boxers. Your clit pulses at the sight. He skillfully flips the bottom of your skirt up to reveal the spandex shorts underneath and uses his left hand to move them and your panties to the side. Frankie's eyes illuminate at the glorious sight of you bare in front of him. Taking himself in his hand, he lines up at your soaking entrance, and fills you up in one motion.

“That’s my girl.” He moans into your ear. “Take me just like that.”

He starts moving once he knows you have adjusted to his size. His pace is firm and steady as he starts massaging your clit with his left thumb. Your head is just starting to roll back while you sink into this moment with Frankie, when an unmistakable sound rings out. Both of you freeze and lock eyes.

“Estrella…” You can tell it's killing him not to move while he’s buried in your cunt. “Was that the fucking door bell?”

“Maybe.” Your breath catches when he decides to thrust forward as if urging you to elaborate. “Didn’t lock the door. Thought the sign would be enough.”

You almost miss your name being called out from inside the gym because you’re too wrapped up in the way Frankie feels inside you.

“Fuck. Let me,” You gasp. “Let me go see what he wants. Stay here.”

He groans, but concedes knowing that this is something you need to take care of so he can sink inside you again. Frankie pulls out and gently pulls your underwear and shorts back over. You stifle a laugh at the precarious situation that you currently find yourself in. Poking only your head outside the door, your eyes fall on the unwelcome intruder.

“Hey, Jacobs! Sorry I wasn’t at the door to check you in! I decided to do some deep cleaning in the laundry room today while Benny ran errands.” You pray that your flushed face isn’t a dead give away to what was just going on.

“No worries!” He hollers back from where he's standing at the weights. “I was just a little freaked out to see the place so quiet. Usually Benny has it bumping in here.”

You sense him before you feel him. Frankie places his hands on the hem on your skirt and pulls it down past your ass. When he reveals what he's looking for, you feel him ghosting just outside your pussy.

“Keep talking to him.” He quietly grunts while bottoming out. “Better act natural if you don’t want to get caught, baby. Wouldn’t want Jacobs to know that you’re getting fucked in public like a little slut, do you?”

Chills run down your arms and legs, littering your skin with goosebumps in their wake. Frankie has never called you that before, but you fucking like it.

“Yeah.” You struggle out, trying to ignore how much faster Frankie has started pumping now. “I decided to just play my music in here. Feel free to turn your earbuds up really loud. I wouldn’t want my bad singing to interrupt your- fuck- your workout!”

Frankie has snaked his hand around to the front of your skirt and slithered down to find your clit, catching you completely off guard.

“Are you alright?” Jacobs asks earnestly, looking confused and taking a few steps towards the room you’re in.

“F-fine! I’m totally fine! The cleaning products I'm using just started to give me a migraine, but I turned on the vent. Problem solved.”

You don’t know how much longer you can keep this up for. This performance that you’re putting on isn’t going to win you an Oscar, but you’re hoping that it's sufficient enough to ward off Jacobs.

“Do you need any medicine or -?”

“That’s really sweet, but I’m all good. I already took some.” Your knees start to shake as your climax nears. Frankie isn’t helping the situation at all by lifting up the back of your shirt and kissing along your spine. “Also it's probably best if you steer clear of this side of the gym. I wouldn’t want the cleaning products to affect you too.”

“Right uhh okay. Sounds good.” He smiles weakly at you before waving. “Feel better.”

“Thanks!” You wince slightly as Frankie slides his hand under your bra and starts to tweak your nipple. “I’m starting to feel better already!”

You don’t think you have ever closed a door so fast in your entire life.

“I’m going to fucking kill you.” You huff, bracing yourself on the shut door.

Frankie, without pulling out, turns you to where you can now rest your upper body on the washing machine lid. You know he’s having too much fun messing with you.

“If you kill me, Estrella, how am I supposed to make you feel better?”

If you thought he was being merciless before, you were mistaken. He grips your hips tightly as he drills into you from behind. You bite down on your arm to silence the flow of moans and whimpers that escape you. Catching your thoughts drifting to the possibility of being heard, your walls contract around the man inside you.

“Tell me what’s going on inside that beautiful mind of yours.” He says gruffly.

“Getting caught.” You whine softly.

“It’s turning you on? Fuck.” His hands cut deeper into your skin. “I know you liked what I said to you earlier. I saw your body react.”

Another wave of chills encapsulates your body at the mere thought of it.

“You like getting fucked like the whore you were dressed as the other night?” Tears prick your eyes as the metaphorical rope twists tighter in your belly. It’s seconds away from snapping. “You like being a whore just for me, Estrella?”

Your body answers for you, soaking him in your climax. He lowers his head and whispers sweet nothings into your ear while you see stars all around you. Your euphoria isn’t enough to make you forget to answer him.

“I love being a whore just for you. I’ll do anything you ask me too.”

With those words, you feel him coming hard. He moans lowly while his hip buck and you can feel him completely emptying himself. God, you could get addicted to that. When he pulls out, you brace yourself using the sides of the washing machine. He quickly finds a soft, freshly washed towel to clean you up with. Urgency doesn’t exist at this moment. You know that he enjoys the after just as much as the before.

“You know, the first time I saw you in the photo Benny has hanging in here, I was awestruck.” The two of you are now sitting together, backs against the washer and hands intertwined, on the laundry room floor. “He had completely left the room and I didn’t even notice because I was trying to wrap my head around how it was possible for this stranger to be that handsome.”

You look over at Frankie to see him smiling to himself and staring down at your joined hands. The apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears have adopted a soft pink hue. His shyness makes you remember that compliments were few and far between in his last relationship. You are going to make sure that he never goes unappreciated while he’s with you. You are going to make sure he knows how deserving he is to hear words like that.

“How crazy that in just a few months time, I would be holding that stranger's hand and sharing a bed with him on a regular basis. You make me feel like the luckiest woman in the world, do you know that? After some things that happened when I was younger, I didn’t think men like you existed.”

“What happened when you were younger?” His voice is cautious.

“I had this friend, a guy, that I would hang out with all the time when I was 19. One night, we were at his house drinking and watching a movie. I guess I drank a little more than I thought because the rest of the night comes in flashes.” You close your eyes and inhale sharply. “I remember laying on the couch and listening to the sound of the movie floating in and out of my ears. Then there are hands that I don’t want grabbing me, pulling at my clothes, and touching my hair. I could smell the-the tequila on his breath. It made my stomach twist in the most violent way. I ended up passing out before the worst of it. I don’t know what's worse: remembering or having no memory at all.”

You open your eyes and turn your head to look at him. There was a part of you that was scared to see the emotions reflecting on his face. Would he look at you differently? Would he think of you as damaged goods? Some stupid girl who put herself in a compromising situation? Would he be afraid to touch you after this? Would he think of you as some small breakable object now that he knows the truth?

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I-”

“Estrella, it wasn’t your fault.” You close your eyes again because they sting with tears. “You were with someone you thought you could trust. You were doing something that you thought was safe. It wasn’t your fault. Everything, every single thing, is on him. He desecrated the friendship that you gave him. It doesn’t matter how much or how little you drank that night. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know.”

He grips your hand tighter and leans his head against yours. You listen to his breathing and use it to regulate your own. For the first time in your life you really let it sink in. The fact that it wasn’t your fault, that it wasn’t your doing. Robbie always told you that. She never once blamed you for it. You knew she was right when she said it, but some part of you simply refused to believe it. Holding onto the misplaced guilt was your way of protecting yourself or punishing yourself. But, now? Now that you actually said the words ‘I know’? You could feel your shoulders releasing a load that they were never meant to be carrying in the first place. The scars would still be there, yet now perhaps they could fade.

“It’s me who’s lucky.” He says after a while, bringing y’alls laced hands up to his lips and kissing the back of yours. “It’s not often that you’re given a second chance in life. It’s also not often that the second chance is this woman who’s compassionate, understanding, intelligent, loving, and beautiful.” As he lists each characteristic, he kisses the corresponding tips of your fingers. “When I first saw your photo,” He sighs, remembering back to that day. “I wanted to kiss you on the bridge of your nose. Right here. I couldn't shake the feeling that my lips would fit perfectly.”

You giggle faintly as he takes his free hand and pokes it at your nose after he wiped away your stray tears.

“Why don’t you test out your theory then?”

His velvety brown eyes are the last thing you see before you close your own. You feel him let go of your hand and then cup the sides of your face. His beard tickles your skin as he lowers his lips to his destination. You can’t help but echo his sigh when you feel him connect with the bridge of your nose. He was right, you think, it’s a perfect fit. The two of you are a perfect fit. You open your eyes when he slowly pulls away. He looks so at ease staring back at you.

“What’s your conclusion?” You whisper.

“Just as I suspected,” He leans his forehead against yours. “It’s like it was made for me.”

***

You and Benny are almost done with y’alls nightly clean up. The only thing left to do is to take the dirty towels into the laundry room so you can run a load in the morning. The two of you chat easily as he opens the door for you since you’re carrying the dirty towel basket. When he doesn’t immediately move out of the doorway, you lightly bump the basket into his back.

“Earth to Benny. This thing is getting heavy and I would like to set it down now.”

He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder and gives you a devilish grin. Bumping the door the rest of the way open with his hip, he leans down and picks something up off the ground.

“Isn’t this strange?” He says, turning to face you fully. “What would Fish’s cap be doin’ in our laundry room?”

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. They seem to be permanently stuck in an ‘o’ position.

“Are you goin’ to tell me what went down while I was gone?” His shit eating grin has somehow managed to get bigger.

“Are you going to tell me what ‘operation catch-a-fish’ was?” You ask smugly, finally finding your voice.

Benny opens his mouth to combat your question, but just laughs instead. “Looks like both of our lips are sealed then.”

“Perhaps you could unseal yours for another question?” You push past him and set down what you were carrying. “It’s about Will.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re leaving Catfish for my brother.”

“No, you asshat!” You pop him in the arm as he laughs again. “I want to set him up with Robbie.”

“Ahhhh I see. You want to play matchmaker.”

“I want him to be happy. I think he and Robbie would really hit it off too. She’s coming down in a few weeks and I want to start planting the seed in that vast mind of his. I just wasn’t sure how he feels about dating right now and was hoping you would.”

A bittersweet look washes over Benny’s face at your confession. You can tell that he wants to tell you something, but he’s stopping himself.

“You’re going to tell me to ask him in person, aren’t you?”

He smiles weakly and motions to leave the laundry room, making sure to take Frankie’s hat with him. “Just like I told you with Fish, it’s not my place to get into all of Will’s business. Between you and me, I think he’s lonely, but he would never admit it. I’m personally onboard with hookin’ him up with your friend, but just talk to him. He and the rest of the guys are on their way here to meet me at the bar right now.”

After doing a final sweep of the place, the two of y’all grab your things and lock up. Sure enough the guys are all leaning against the bed of Frankie’s truck waiting.

“Hola, hermosa!” Pope pulls you in for a bear hug as soon as you approach them.

“Hi, Santi!” You hug him back with just as much force. “Believe it or not, I’ve missed you this week.”

“Who wouldn’t miss me?” He asks playfully as you pull away.

“Stop hogging her, Pope.” Frankie nudges his friend out of the way so he can hug you. “Long time no see, Estrella.”

“Yeah, speakin’ of ‘long time no see’, Fish.” Benny produces the left behind cap and tosses it over. “Next time you sneak over, it’s probably best that you don’t leave a callin’ card, hm?” His voice is mischievous.

“Oh I- I just came by to drop off lunch and-”

“Save it, lover boy.” He winks at him.

Even under the dim street lights, you can see that Frankie’s cheeks have adopted a soft blush. You kiss his shoulder before turning your attention to the man you have been meaning to speak too.

“Howdy, Will.” You speak bashfully as he pulls you into him.

“Saved the best for last. I knew I liked you, hon.”

“Come on! Let’s go get some fuckin’ drinks!” Benny says, throwing his arm around Pope’s shoulder. “It’s been a day!”

“You filled out paperwork at the police station for the majority of the day, you big baby.” You counter.

The rest of the group clearly wasn’t privy to Benny’s plans today by the quizzical look on all of their faces.

“Calm down. I was goin’ to fill y’all in tonight at the bar. The quicker we get there, the quicker y’all get to hear. So, let's get a move on.”

Benny, Pope, and Will all start walking while Frankie holds an outstretched hand for you to take hold of. You want to make sure you talk to Will before either of y’all are slurring your words, so you quietly, but quickly fill Frankie in on your plan for Robbie and Will. He seems to have the same reaction as Benny did. Concern mixed with approval. Frankie volunteers to go into The Barrel with Pope and Benny so you can talk to Will without having an audience.

“Will? Can you stay out here for a second?”

He is holding the door open for you after letting the other men into the establishment.

“What’s on your mind, doll?”

“I wanted to ask you about your stance on dating right now. My friend, Robbie, is coming down to visit me in a few weeks and I think you would really like her. I was hoping that you would let me set you up with her, but I wanted to see what you thought about that before I got ahead of myself.”

He puts his hands on his hips and lets out a low whistle.

“I haven’t taken much of a shine to datin’ since my fiancée left me a while back.”

You feel like you just got the wind knocked out of you. “You were engaged?! I didn’t know that.”

“Once upon a time I was, yeah.” He holds up his wedding ring ringer. “Never made it to the aisle though.”

“Can I ask what happened? Or do you not want to talk about it?”

“I don’t mind sharin’ with you.” He scratches the back of his neck. “It just might change the way you see me though.”

“I’d never judge you, Will.” You say sincerely.

“About five or six years ago, when I was on leave, I found myself standin’ in the middle of the cereal aisle at the Publix with my arm around some guys throat.” He takes a deep breath. “I was squeezin’ so hard he pissed himself. My fiancée at the time had to climb on my back just so I didn’t actually kill the guy. Do you know why I was doin’ this?”

You shake your head at him.

“Because he hadn’t moved his cart when I asked.” He rubs his eye briefly. “I flipped out on some poor innocent bastard because he was stoppin’ me from gettin’ some goddamn cereal.”

“Will, that’s not your fault. It was an involuntary reaction.”

“But it was. I put his life, my fiancée’s life, and that entire store full of people’s lives in danger because I shut down and just reacted like I was trained to do. I loved what I did to serve my country, but I didn’t realize at the time how committin’ acts of extreme violence on other human beings would affect me biologically.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” You long for a phrase that can convey the true depth of your sorrow for what he went through. “I’m so sorry, Will.”

“I’ll be honest with you, I want to start datin’ again, but I guess I can’t bring myself too. I don’t want to hurt another woman the way I hurt my fiancée.”

You take his hand in yours. “The work you do with and for all the other vets has given you the tools to effectively navigate the trauma and PTSD you have from the military. I know that it never really goes away, but what matters is that you're trying to work through it. Everyday I’m sure something happens that triggers you or takes you back to moments that you would rather not relive. I wish to God that I could take that pain away from you, Will, but I know I can’t. What I can do is support you and I’m always going to do that. I trust you no matter what.”

He doesn’t say a word as he pulls you in for a bone crushing hug. You wrap your arms around him and hope he can feel how much you truly care about him through your touch. The two of you stay embracing for a few minutes until you feel him let out a heavy sigh and let go.

“So,” He says, opening the bar's door once again. “Tell me about this friend of yours.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

{tag list: @cutesyscreenname @rsquared31 @smol-beb @bitchwitch1981 @avastrasposts @hoeslingz @saltybutteredtoast @javicstories @c-justhere @pimosworld @modernperplexity @beboldbebravethings @mxtokko @moonliqhtszn @tanzthompson @megcads @myloveistoolittle @casa-boiardi @jitterbugs927 @partyofone3413 @pedrit0-pascalit0 @golden-library @pati-et-vivere @mashomasho @lilmizmoz @angstylittlepascal @sofiparallel @selflcontrol @adriennemichelle98 @painitemoondust @pedritosgirl2000 @tpwkmera @romanarose @missbabyjay @3sriracha @rhoorl }

#francisco morales #frankie morales #catfish #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #benny miller #will miller #ironhead #santiago garcia #pope #through the scope #read on ao3

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voidandabyssal · 1 month ago

Note

Hey! It's been a while since I requested anything and I'm bored...

I miss your Horrorfell bros so can we have some general headcanons for them? Do they have any interests? Favourite things to do or food to eat? Would they get flustered easily if I complimented them (provided they aren't hungry)? Can you tell that I'm a sucker for these two AU's and love this combination??

Omg yayyyyy! I haven’t been requested in so long! Thank you❤️ I’m such a sucker for horrorfell! I wish more people liked it! I’m planning to rewrite my fan fiction of those two (finally😫) so hopefully you’ll get some more of my fav boys soon!

Pyre: (hf papyrus)

Hound: (hf sans)

Pyre and Hounds relationship doesn’t recover for a WHILE after surfacing. Bad enough that they go a good couple years without talking to each other. They reconnect after some long talks and deep self reflections in therapy and realise they miss each other.

Once they do reconnect they both put in the effort. Maybe they’ll never be as close as they once were, hell they probably won’t ever live together again. But they’re still brothers, and they still care about each other

Hound uses his government received reparations to buy a small run down cottage on the side of Ebott Mountain, it has a huge garden with lots of privacy from his neighbours. Hound isn’t actually sure if he has neighbours?? He sure as hell isn’t looking to meet them.

Pyre once on the surface eventually comes to be known as the crazy cat lady of his neighbourhood. He owns at least a dozen cats, (not including the feral strays he feeds in his garden). Each one is equally loved and doted on. They all sleep on his bed in the winter. They all have unique names, collars and food bowls. Not a single one goes a day without getting some kind of treat from Pyre

Hound despite his very extroverted past self, never fully recovers his interest in other people. He spends most of his days gardening and farming his own food. He’s got a small flock of chickens that he pretends to hate. Like one of those dads that grumpily insists he doesn’t like the new pet, but is then seen snuggling with the damn thing a day later.

Pyre regains his love for sweets. He kept it a secret before the famine, ashamed it would make him seen weak. He’s too old and hungry for that now tho. Give him his sweets or give him death🤺

The local bakery both fears and respects that man for the amount of chocolate sweets he purchases😮‍💨

Hound meanwhile is a blackhole for food, he literally has no favourites and would eat literally garbage if it was placed in front of him. Bro is just excited to eat

Both boys would get pretty flustered if you complimented them! Pyre would brush it off waving you away before you could see the blood red blush dusting his cheekbones. “YES OF COURSE YOU APPRECIATE THE TERRIBLE PYRES DINNER! YOU DID NOT NEED TO VERBALISE IT HUMAN!!!” As he hides away in the kitchen.

Hound would chuckle quietly and tug down his beanie so you couldn’t see the way his eye light blew up in size as he looked down at you, maybe he would reach down and ruffle your hair. “….thanks…..cutie” he would manage to speak aloud.

Hound doesn’t work, his metal jaw and cracked skull make it difficult for him to communicate, occasionally he’ll plonk down a stall (a totally legal one at that. No sir not at all like his illegal hot dog stand) and sell some of his veggies and chicken eggs other than that he’s pretty much chilling in his home.

Pyre on the other hand dives into work as soon as he can. He’s very lonely for a long time once on the surface. All his old friends are dead, or he wishes they were, him and Hound aren’t on speaking terms yet. So he busied himself to stop the aching feeling of loneliness settling into his soul.

He jumps around from place to place, it’s hard to find work when you’re a terrifying skeleton and you’re also disabled. Eventually he settles on working as a counsellor. He’s tough on his clients, unforgiving even. But Pyre loves what he does and he genuinely gives it his all in helping his patients.

I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this much, but Pyres got a pretty fucked up spine. It makes it difficult for him to go long without sitting, and he receives multiple surgeries to hopefully help fix it. All that does is extend the time he can stay standing. Pyre can’t do much exercise or walking before the pain gets too much. Once on the surface he gets a wheelchair and is pleasantly surprised that he doesn’t have to spend most of the day in terrible pain.

Pyres a tough nut to crack socially, his walls are forever up and he needs time to start to trust someone. Just keep taking your chances, sit with him at work, offer him some home baked cookies, knock on his door and ask for help (Pyre loves to feel useful). Eventually he’ll break, and you’ll have a gigantic protective skeleton at your beck and call!

Be ready to spend a lot of time after those walls are down though, Pyre loves to be social and he absolutely will drag you to places he wants to visit if need be.

Hounds a little easier to befriend, just don’t speak for him, (even if it takes a while for Hound to get the words out he hates being spoken over even more) and he’ll think you’re alright. If you wanna get closer you gotta dish out some puns, or some good ol’ slapstick humour often

I wouldn’t bother trying to befriend them in the Underground if I were you though. This time in their lives is marked by hunger, sadism and wrath. You likely won’t get far before a knife is shoved in your stomach or your chopped in half. If you meet them Underground you gotta have something to be worth keeping alive.

Pyre as much as he hates to admit it, spends a lot of time in therapy. When Pyre initially got triggered by something he reacted violently, brutally so. He would lash out at everyone and everything in the vicinity until he felt safe again. This was part of the reason Hound and him stopped talking. Hound was sick and tired of being torn into and beaten around over perceived insults or threatening actions.

The therapy does Pyre a lot of good, it’s what inspires him to become a counsellor. Eventually he settles down and manages to learn what to avoid and what to distance himself from.

Blood, meat, injured humans, etc. Pyre also deconstructs his ego problems, he stops feeling the need to constantly project “DANGER” to feel safe.

Hound never goes to therapy, ever. Yes he’s still triggered by a lot of things, and yeah sometimes he lashes out or suffers from debilitating panic attacks. No, there’s probably nothing anyone could ever do to convince him to go to therapy, he’s learning in his own way how to manage.

#undertale #undertale au #undertale headcanons #horrorfell sans #horrorfell #horrorfell papyrus #voidimagines

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underground-secret · 1 year ago

Text

The Hunter and the Witch ~ Dean Winchester x fem! reader

Description: It’s a prologue of our girl Y/N, you’re six at the time of this prologue.

Content warning: arguing

word count: 817 (it’s short cause it’s a prologue and also i didn’t want the next part be to long)

18 years ago…

“We can’t keep moving them around! They can’t live like this!” I heard mom argue as me and my older brother watched through the cracked door.

“Well there’s something wrong with your daughter. If she hadn’t killed half of the town's corn field we wouldn’t be in this mess” My dad yelled, venom sharp on his tongue. I shrunk into myself, ashamed of what he brought up even though it was an accident and I didn’t mean to do anything.

“You know it was an accident! Neither of us thought she would be this strong at a young age, she doesn't know how to control her abilities yet. And she’s your daughter too!” mom snapped back.

“Well because of her accident we have to leave! Now go I'm tired of this arguing you have to start teaching her she can’t do this again” dad responded huffing. Me and my brother ran off back to our bedrooms where we were supposed to be in the first place.

I jump into bed, the covers whooshing as I scurry underneath them, my moms footsteps sounding just outside my door. She enters my room, the wooden floor creaking beneath her, a warm smile on her face despite the fact she was arguing just moments ago.

“My restless girl” she spoke sweetly, seeing me still awake and sitting up in bed. She sat on the edge of my bed running a soothing hand in my hair as she asked “How ‘bout I tell you a story?”

I nodded my head vigorously in response.

She laughed softly, everything with her was always soft. When I grow up I want to be like her.

She motioned for me to lay down, I complied as she began her story.

“Once upon a time there was a young witch, she was pretty and kind. But her family was mean and everything that people believed witches to be, wicked. She knew she never wanted to be like them for she was good and never did a single wicked thing. And one day, many years later, her family decided to do something that was so horrible that it would hurt everyone in town.

So when she met this charming man called a hunter who came to stop her family she agreed to help. She loved her family of course but she couldn’t allow them to do anything bad to the town she loved. Her and this hunter didn’t get along at first, for hunters took down monsters and they never figured that a witch of all things could be good. But even through their fighting they knew they had to trust each other, but once the job was completed they found they didn’t want to leave each other.

So they went on the road together and eventually settled down and had two kids of their own who they promised would always remain good.”

When my mom finished the story I knew it was about her and dad and I was already given the story of hunters and monsters, I knew monsters were real and I knew I was one of them. But even so I still asked her “Do people still hate us?, do they hate me?”

I knew my mom was a witch, that I'm a witch, that we had to be careful around hunters, and that other hunters didn’t like dad much because he fell in love with a witch.

“Oh sweetheart…hunte- people have a hard time seeing things differently when they’ve only known it to be one way. So they don’t understand that we’re good, but that’s okay! because that just means we have to be extra nice!” she explained.

“I didn’t mean to hurt the corn” I responded with my lip quivering, feeling bad for what I did.

“I know baby, me and you are gonna do some learning. How does that sound?” she asked before scrunching her nose and leaning down to tickle me.

My laughs danced around the room and I knew that everything would be okay.

I believed that notion even when I heard dad say the following day, “I know someone in Kansas he’ll help.”

I continued to believe it when everything we owned was placed in a truck headed to somewhere foreign, when we arrived and unpacked, when we met the guy my dad was talking about. And even when he looked at my mom and I with little trust.

But mom was right.

Everything was okay, because after a couple of months of worrying about the Winchesters, our ‘neighbors’ who lived on the other side of town, aka the guy my dad knew, they finally trusted us and I had become good friends with his two sons Sam and Dean.

As I grew older I learned how to hone my abilities and on my moms death bed I promised her I'd be a good witch just like her.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #fanfiction #sam winchester #supernatural #john winchester #slow burn #witch reader #witchcraft #romance #prologue #backstory #winchester x reader #dean winchester x witch reader #dean winchester x f!reader #mystery #supernatural season 1 #supernatural x reader #the hunter and the witch

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anjelicawrites · 4 months ago

Note

I bring a potentially angsty question based on that drunk Billy gifset you just reblogged:

How does Billy react if/when reader and Michael ask about his family?

💜

Mel, you can come with all the angsty questions whenever you want!!! I love them!!!

Short answer? He doesn't have two significant others, he has two guard dogs now. Longer one? Let's dive under the cut!

Warning for reference to medications and nightmares. They/them used for reader where needed.

I think he would dodge the questions and be vague about it. Yes, he has an older sister in the police force, yes, his mum and dad still live in London and call him randomly. And that's it because, if he starts opening up about his family, he'll have to explain everything that happened to him. His face was on the papers, after he was extracted from the bombed car but neither you, nor Michael, made the connection and know the actual reason why he moved to Oxford, since the photos were old and in terrible quality, plus his story was sidelined by the bigger sensation that was the whole alt right movement fallout, and the murders connected to it.

As long as the relationship was simply based on sex, it was easier for him to give you both the least information possible, most of the time you two didn't stay over and didn't see his medications, the times he would wake up screaming from his nightmares or realize that Billy never goes back to London, not for love or money, or that his family doesn't come to visit him from time to time.

Things changed tho, like they always do.

You saw his medications by mistake, Michael almost got an heart attack when Billy fell asleep on the couch, only to wake up screaming. You didn't want to press him for information, you wanted to give him time to open up, Michael, and his big mouth, couldn't help but firing questions, Billy, obviously, clammed up and refused to say anything. If the relationship had made a step forward, thanks to Michael, it went back ten steps because Billy wasn't ready to show you two nerds who he had been and what he had done, being so ashamed of it himself.

The three of you didn't meet for weeks, Billy avoiding you on purpose, until you cornered him and made sure he told all that happened.

Talking about his family happens organically at this point.

Michael has to bite his tongue when Billy tells you the ways his family tried to tough him up, comparing him constantly to his sister who, seemingly, was amazing in every aspect of her life. He was embarrassed to admit how this constant reminder of his failures had taken a toll on his mental health, catapulting him into the waiting arms of the alt right group that used him. When Michael, finally, explodes, saying that they're all cunts, you are ready for the fallout.

"They tried their best. They failed, but tried the only way they know." Billy says, his head hanging a bit. "And that's why I can't meet them, because they'll never admit they were in the wrong." "Still cunts." "A bit, yes."

It shines in the way Billy talks about Lana, that he loves her and that love wasn't enough to salvage their relationship: she saved him but was the reason Billy kept falling and falling into the depths of depression; it wasn't her fault, she was the unwilling catalyst though, and you can't forget it. You hug Billy tight and he makes himself as small as possible to fit your frame and feel your hands in his hair, while Michael is grumbling about the whole situation in the background: he's not one for forgiveness. Not that you don't agree: Billy can do whatever he wants with his relationship with his family, you're never going to forgive and forget, even if Billy does. Someone needs to look into these people's eyes and remind them of what they did to him, the harm they caused to Billy, and still to this day.

That his parents and, to an extent, his sister did it believing they were doing right by Billy doesn't truly matter on the long run, not when Billy is still suffering and believes himself to be less than what he is, simply because he doesn't meet their expectations for him.

You don't have the luxury to express your rage as outwardly as Michael is doing right now, someone needs to anchor Billy, and that's your job, but by God you're fuming as you keep him in your arms and are already planning how you're going to show him how great he is, how important he is for you: that's your goal, Michael's? He will never let his family off the hook, it's a promise; if you know someone who never forgets a slight, who is capable of holding a grudge to his grave, that's you math genius boyfriend.

You two will need to coordinate your efforts and you two will succeed in helping Billy truly flourish, and if his family tries to have say in it? They will never know what will hit them, and that's your silent promise to Billy.

Cringefail throuple taglist: @fan-goddess @moris-auri @lexwolfhale

Ewanverse taglist: @vhagar-balerion-meraxes @zaldritzosrose

#cringefail throuple #billy washington x reader x michael gavey #billy washington x y/n x michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x y/n #billy washington x reader #billy washington x y/n #michael gavey #billy washington #answered

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camaro-and-smokes · 10 months ago

Text

Snowfall on the Sahara

Notes: When I started to think what to write for @harringrovelovefest 2024 I remembered that I had a draft for this laying around and @lovebillyhargrove wanted to know what happened to the boys after Snow on the Beach. So, here it is. Lovefest prompt would be 'Being crazy in love' 💜 Title from the song 'Snowfall On The Sahara' by Natalie Cole.

Rating: Mature (tagged this as such just in case even though there's really nothing like that) Warnings: No Warnings Characters: Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley Tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Boys Kissing, Boys In Love, Steve Harrington and Billy Hargrove have a crush on each other, POV Steve Harrington, Love Confessions

Read on AO3 >>

Summary: It's hard to be with Billy, yes, the world isn't ready for them. But still Steve had been with him since that one night at the quarry when Steve saw everything anew. He's been wanting to say the three little words ever since, but has been afraid to. What if Billy gets scared and runs away? What if he doesn't feel the same?

But... what if...what if he does feel the same?

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Oh, for fuck's sake!” Steve shouts when he accidentally nudges the pile of film posters on the backroom table of Family Video, making every one of them, except Mad Max, spill on the floor.

He's collecting the pile when Robin peeks into the room. “Hey, we could hear you all the way from the counter. The four of us,” she says. “Me and the mother and her twins, who I just rented Bambi for the tenth time. I am not sure if there will be eleventh time or if there is, she'll complain about our language through it.”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “I'm sorry. I was about to leave and I nudged the pile and... I just...” He sighs. “I have a date, I wasn't even supposed to be working today, and now I'm late.”

Robin's eyes bulge from her eye sockets and she walks into the room, closing the door behind her. “You have a date? An actual date with a living, breathing girl?”

Steve's not in a mood for her sarcasm and just glares up at her as he keeps collecting the posters into a pile next to him.

She squints as she leans to the door and crosses her arms over her chest. “You haven't told me anything about any girls. For a very long time, I might add. Which is kinda odd, but let's not get into that now. Who is she?”

“None of your business,” Steve retorts, and winces immediately. He looks up. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. It's just... Uh... err... Her, umm, dad doesn't know and he really wouldn't like it, so we'd like to keep it like that. It's a secret. No one can know.” Steve shakes his head vigorously. “Honestly. No. One.”

“Secret? Steve, hello, it's me. There is no secret you couldn't tell me. I'm supposed to be the one who's afraid of you accidentally spilling the beans on my secrets, not the other way around.”

Steve stands up, places the posters on the table and leans his back to it, looking ashamed. “Yeah, well, I never knew before there could be secrets like this. Secrets that...” he couldn't end the sentence. He swallowed. “Secrets that could get someone killed,” he whispered.

Robin stares at Steve blankly for a while. “Okay,” she says slowly, “the dad really doesn't like you.”

Steve plays with his car keys and shakes his head. “It's a double-sided dagger, the whole thing.”

When he looks back up, Robin is looking back at him, concerned. After a while, a smile tries to force its way on her face. “Has to be one hell of a girl if you're willing to go that extra mile.”

Steve snorts. “Not just one but several, trust me,” he replies, amused. He feels his cheeks heating, and he looks down. “Yeah, it's worth it.”

“Okay, Casanova,” Robin smiles, “you go to your mystery date. Tell her I said hi and that your secret is safe. Because I don't even know who she is.”

“Sure, I'll tell...her,” Steve chuckles as he walks out through the backdoor.

Steve drives out from the parking lot and speeds towards the Lover's lake. He is late, he's already supposed to be there, and he's not sure if Billy will wait for him to show up this time.

Once Steve was five minutes late and Billy didn’t speak with him for a week because he thought Steve was punishing him for something by being late. Another time Billy left in the middle of their date because Steve had looked at him funnily, as if he was trash–Billy's exact words.

On some nights, Steve stared at the ceiling and wondered if it all was worth it. The hiding, being super careful of not accidentally revealing anything to anyone, making sure no one knew who he was meeting with and where. Not being able to tell everyone that he was in love with Billy and shout it from the rooftops.

It wasn't what he had dreamed of.

But then he thought of Billy listening to him talking about being lonely and being forced to live alone most of the time, not even his parents really caring about him. How he had nothing to wait for in the future. He sure as hell wouldn't get into college, and he had no idea what he could or wanted to be or do when he grew up.

And Billy understood what he meant, the feeling of being lost and alone, feeling like no one cared. Later, Billy had quietly whispered how he feared his dad and that if he ever found out about him and Steve, he'd surely beat him to death, if not both of them.

Them sharing their deepest fears, trusting each other with truths that they shared with no one else, couldn't share.

And then he thought about Billy's laughter and a smile spread across his face. Not the mean one he let out on the basketball court, but the other one. The one that bubbled out from his throat effortlessly into the air when he felt safe.

Steve had heard it for the first time when he'd taught Billy new pool tricks in their basement–because playing pool was one of the few things Steve was actually really good at and his parents supported it by buying him a real pool table. Anyway, Billy had known the basics, but Steve had given him some pointers, and when Billy had cleaned the table for the first time, he'd laughed that laughter.

It was like a fucking siren song. Something had shifted inside Steve at that moment, never to be the same again.

Since then, he'd done all he could to make Billy laugh like that.

One of the ways to do that was to make out with him on the couch until they both were rock hard and desperate for each other, almost on the brink of coming. Either would take the other's hand, pull him to the stairs, and no matter which one it was, Billy would always laugh and giggle all the way to Steve's room.

And so Steve thought of Billy in bed, underneath him or riding him, so so pretty and so willing, so ready just for him. His lips parted, panting hot and heavy in the rhythm of Steve hitting his prostate. Repeating Steve's name straight into his ear, said out loud just for him, whispered like it was a plea or a prayer. The way Billy's eyes fluttered close just before he came so Steve could always tell when he was close, how he moaned and groaned out loud shamelessly as he rode through his orgasm, a blissful expression on his face. How in the aftermath Billy always wanted to be the small spoon, how he wanted and needed to be held, kept safe even if for five brief minutes before he had to go.

And how Steve wanted nothing more but to do that, how he needed to. To support Billy, to stand by him, to love him, to keep him safe.

Yes. It was all worth it. It wasn't their fault that the world wasn't ready for their love. And they sure as hell wouldn't let the world stop them from loving each other, even if they had to keep it a secret.

Steve parks the Beemer behind Billy’s Camaro on the side of the road where it’s shortest walk to their spot by the Lover’s Lake. At least Billy hasn’t left yet, which is a good thing.

Steve doesn’t just walk but runs through the forest to the lake and then walks swiftly the tiny trail that leads to the small cove they found a while back.

It was incredible that something like it had gone unnoticed, the sand there was untouched when they found it. It had become their safe haven, even though they had to still be careful.

It's still warm even though fall is already reminding of itself by having turned leaves yellow here and there. Steve rolls up his jeans to his knees, and the water is up halfway to his shins when he passes the cliff that shelters the cove.

Steve sees Billy there, sitting by the shore and blowing out smoke rings. He lets out a relieved breath and can't help smiling as he walks out from the water to Billy and sits down next to him.

They're quiet for a while, until Billy asks, "What took you so long?"

There's hurt and insecurity hidden underneath the words.

“Fucking Keith got sick in the middle of the day and I had to cover for him. I would've called if I... I'm sorry.”

Billy looks away and wipes something from his cheek quickly.

An expecting silence falls between them. Steve knows by now not to rush whatever Billy is about to say, letting him say what he needs to say.

Finally, Billy turns to look back straight ahead to the other side of the lake. “I thought you'd forgotten,” he mumbles.

Something warm and fuzzy takes flight in Steve's chest and flutters its wings tentatively. He smiles, leaning towards Billy, nudges his shoulder with his and whispers, “I couldn’t forget you. And I'd never leave you hanging on purpose, gorgeous.”

Billy’s cheeks turn pink and he looks down while a tiny smile forces its way onto his face. He glances at Steve. “Gorgeous, huh?”

Steve wants to kiss Billy so badly. They’re so close, he could just lean in a bit and if Billy turned his face right then... but Steve just smiles. “Yeah. That.”

“Careful,” Billy says, tries to make the word sound like a warning, but it falls flat.

There's nothing Steve has to be careful about and he knows it. He grins. They play this same game each time they meet before they can get into the meat of things. Billy trying to keep up his defenses, his walls, and Steve softly and gently demolishing both one brick at a time. He knows it’s not easy for Billy to let his guard down, so he plays along. “Don’t lie, you like it,” he says, leaving out when I call you that. He'd say it out loud if they were alone in his room, but here out in the open it goes unsaid.

The rosy shade on Billy’s cheek deepens a notch, confirming that Steve is right.

Fuck it. Steve’s tired and doesn’t want to go through the whole nine yards today. “Wanna take a swim?” he asks.

Billy shrugs. “Well, if you want to get your ass kicked in a race to the sunken rock. Again,” he replies. He tries to sound indifferent, but he’s also already taking his boots off, so.

Steve doesn't bother rushing, he knows what's coming. So, he looks around and when he sees no one on the lake he leans back in his hands and unashamedly watches Billy undressing.

Billy is taking off his socks when he stops and looks at Steve, frowning. “Are we doing this or...?”

Steve smiles smugly. “Oh, we're doing it. But there's no harm in looking at first, is there?”

Billy scrunches his nose, but the redness on his cheeks turns darker.

Steve can't help but to laugh a little.

“Asshole,” Billy mutters with a small smile and pulls off his left sock.

“But I’m your asshole,” Steve whispers, making Billy smile wider as he gets up.

Billy throws the sock at Steve, making him yelp. “Come on, pretty boy, I’m going to win at this pace before you even get off the shore,” Billy says and pulls off his shirt.

Steve gets on his feet before Billy has taken barely a step towards the water. He grabs the waistband of Billy’s jeans with both hands and pulls Billy against him. “Not so fast,” he says, wrapping his arms around Billy's waist.

Billy giggles as he tries to pull away, using the damn siren song on Steve to cloud his mind and making his hug looser than he planned. Steve’s readying himself for Billy retaliating by tickling Steve, maybe - that’s Billy’s go-to weapon. But when Billy turns around, he just smiles and lets Steve to pull their bodies together.

Billy's smile and eyes still sparkle with mischief and Steve is not sure what’s it about. “You threw your stinking sock on me,” Steve says, trying to sound hurt.

Billy turns the corners of his mouth downwards, lowers his chin and looks down to the ground for a while like a kicked puppy. Then he turns his gaze back up, opening his eyes huge and fluttering his long lashes while pursing his lips. “I’m sorry,” he whispers huskily. “What can I do to make it better?”

Steve’s insides melt while his lower body forgets the things we don’t do in public -rule. He didn’t know Billy could do that. Look so innocent while promising all the sins Steve's mother always warned him about, all at once. “I, uh...can think...um...uh...” he replies, feeling his own cheeks heating and his mouth being suddenly very dry.

“Can you, now? Think?” Billy asks and his tongue slowly wanders from the corner of his mouth towards the sharp cupid’s bow.

Steve’s eyes lock onto the motion, and he swallows. He’s totally lost for words.

Billy leans closer, raises his chin and tilts his head, ready to kiss Steve.

And Steve leans in and closes his eyes, already feeling Billy’s breath on his skin.

“Race ya,” Billy whispers, pushes Steve just enough to get Steve to let go, and runs towards the waterline, laughing and stopping just for a few seconds to pull off his jeans before running into the water. He’s almost waist-deep before Steve even realizes what happened.

“Not fair!” Steve shouts and starts undressing as fast as he can.

“Snooze it and lose it,” Billy cackles before he dives under the sparkling surface and starts to swim with long, strong strokes towards the underwater rock that’s halfway to the middle of the lake.

Steve has already lost this one, he knows, but it doesn’t matter. He knows what awaits him by the rock.

When Steve finally gets by the rock, Billy already sits on it, water up to his hips. It’s a big rock, and Steve hoists himself up to sit next to his boyfriend.

“You should really work on your concentration. Performance like that...” Billy tsks, “is not gonna fly in a long run.”

Steve leans into Billy’s space. “I’ll show you a performance,” he whispers into Billy’s ear and licks the outer side of his earlobe. When Billy turns to look at Steve, his lips parted and ready for a kiss, eyes on Steve's mouth, Steve pushes him off the rock.

Billy falls off with a yelp. When he comes back on the surface, he pulls his hair away from his face and glares up at Steve. for a moment Steve is the tiniest bit worried that he accidentally made Billy lose his mood altogether.

But then Billy laughs and splashes water on Steve. “Is that all you got?” he taunts playfully, and Steve’s worry melts away. Billy pulls himself back onto the rock and sits next to Steve, closer this time, close enough so that their thighs are touching.

“I’m really sorry I was late,” Steve says. In the water, underneath the surface, he takes Billy’s hand in his and laces their fingers together.

Billy nods.

The shy gesture would be so out of character for Billy if he was anywhere else but here alone with Steve. When the cocky armor he wears melts away, he looks so young, like the eighteen-year-old he is. Uncertain of the world ahead, hoping for the best and truly fearing for the worst–the latter for a good reason.

Steve's happy that he's not the only one who’s lost. He leans to Billy’s shoulder. “What was that you did back there on the beach?” he asks.

Billy looks down and smiles shyly. Crinkles form into the corners of his eyes and he’s blushing again.

Steve can’t help smiling either. “I liked it,” he whispers.

Billy glances at him. “You did?”

Steve nods, smirking. “It was weird. But also hot.”

Billy smiles a wide smile as he lays down on the rock on his back and is almost engulfed by the water. “Want more?”

Steve leans his elbow on the rock, trying not to forget that it’s slippery, and looks at Billy, who looks back with the widest grin. Suddenly, Steve feels stupid. Stupid as in how seeing his boyfriend happy makes him forget every smooth one-liner he planned and practiced, and just stare - probably with a goofy grin.

And it all suddenly tucks Steve's heart in a way he didn’t know was possible. The fuzzy thing in his chest spreads its wings and the wings are so big that it’s a miracle that he's not floating in the air by now. That’s how high he is from the mere sight of the boy he loves. Loves. Who hopefully loves him back. A little. Maybe?

Steve leans down, whispers, “You're hot,” and kisses Billy.

Billy smiles against Steve's lips and lifts his hands to run his fingers through Steve's hair. When they have to stop to breathe, he whispers, “You're not so bad yourself, pretty boy.”

Steve sets his thigh between Billy's legs and his other arm around Billy's torso, hugging him tightly as they continue kissing.

It doesn't even matter that the wind has picked up a little and the water splashes on their faces from time to time in small waves. The water is warm, the sunlight on their skin is even warmer, their insides burning as they breathe through each other.

Until the rock reminds them that, indeed, it's underwater, full time, and slippery.

Steve fixes his position just a little to get even closer to Billy, but the arm he's leaning onto slips just a little and he falls on his side, and the only thing he can try to hold on to is Billy.

They hit the water at the same time.

They both emerge from the water and Steve is immediately on Billy, trying to look for signs of any scratches.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, concerned. “I’m so sorry, I forgot the stone is...”

Billy looks at his arm and rubs it. “I might have a tiny scratch. Nothin’s broken.” He raises his gaze back to Steve and grins. “But you can show me how sorry you are.”

Steve smiles. Had it been any girl he would be endlessly apologizing to get out of the doghouse. With Billy, instead, it's just nah, it’s just a scratch. Now kiss me.

So easy. So right.

Steve pulls Billy against him, wrapping his arms around Billy's waist, and looks at the sparkling blue eyes and the lips that are already slightly parted, ready for devouring. He wants to say I could spend the rest of my life looking at you, but decides that it's probably still too early for that. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, and kisses Billy.

Billy’s lips are soft, they always are. Warm, too. Kissing with Billy is always a rush this time, too. Steve smiles against Billy’s lips. It's been just a month since they first kissed at the quarry and he is so head over heels that it might’ve been embarrassing if it was anyone else. He wants to tell Billy, but whenever he looks at him in the eyes, determined to say the words, he gets this icy dread inside him. What if Billy runs away when I say how I feel?

Billy pulls back from the kiss slowly, leaving Steve chasing after him until he realizes Billy is looking at him with that tiny smile on his face he always has when they're laying in bed and coming down from their orgasms.

Yeah, he had the cocky, wide grin on his face many times too, making it blatantly clear that there was going to be a round two or three and Steve had nothing to say to it but to endure. But this small one always promises something else: that Billy has something intimate to say, just for Steve to hear.

“I love you.”

The words are barely a whisper, but Steve can read them from Billy’s lips. He blinks a few times, feeling his jaw going slack of the surprise of hearing the words before saying them himself. He's so stunned that Billy apparently takes it as a rejection, because his face turns pale and his eyes dart back and forth in Steve’s, probably thinking that he’s done the worst mistake of his life.

Billy is already pulling away from Steve when Steve finally manages to remind his brain of how to work.

“Hey,” Steve gasps and smiles. “I love you, too.” Now that he's not the first one to say the words, they fall out of his mouth so easily.

Billy looks at him warily. “You do?”

Steve smiles a bit wider, because now he can free the overwhelming emotion from its cage inside his chest where it's been trapped until now, letting is soar to the open sky. “Yeah. I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you, but it never felt right to say it because I was afraid that...that-that you wouldn’t feel the same.”

An impossibly wide smile lights up Billy’s entire face and he lets out a soft laugh. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in this fucking sorry excuse of a town ever since we moved here. Of course, I feel the same.”

“I've felt like this ever since I saw you at the quarry, smoking in the evening sun.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You'd been a definite asshole until then, and you're that a little still,” Steve says grinning, “but you were so beautiful, standing there in the sunlight... I stood no chance. I was done for right there and then.”

Billy goes red – his entire face, tips of his ears and all the way down his neck – and he looks down bashfully. After a while he looks back at Steve, that wide smile on his face the traps his tongue between his teeth. “That's... uh... That's the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, feeling his own cheeks heating, too.

The expression on Billy's face changes and he bites his lower lip. Steve knows that look. He knows it so well, the promise, the yearn in it, and he lets out an involuntary breath.

“Wanna say it again?” Billy asks huskily.

Steve's eyes go wide. “Yeah,” he says, with conviction.

He lets go off Billy and the moment he does Billy is already swimming towards the shore, leaving Steve to catch up.

“Snooze it and lose it,” Billy shouts after him.

"Asshole!" Steve shouts and starts swimming.

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