#f: squirrel girl

[bluebvrry]

⋆･୭ ˚ HARD TO GET

Synopsis -> everyone could easily fall for Yu Jimins charms. Expect one person. Now Jimin finds herself smitten by the girl. It was like she had her wrapped around her fingers.

Pairing -> play girl!karina x f!reader

Genre -> fluff, smau, kinda enemies to loverish, Jimin is lowk down bad, tba (?)

Warnings -> tiny bit of suggestive jokes (but no smut!), I’m a 100% not funny

Status -> ongoing

Tag list -> opened !

A/n -> might change the images later 😪, first ever smau😭 I’ll try to update constantly

Profiles -> Paranoid whores | there are squirrels in my pants

EP 001 -> men mentioned 🤢

EP 002 -> who’s that sexy girl I see standing over there

EP 003 -> she’s just playing hard to get

Tagslist -> @yeetaberry127 @saysirhc @baelabong @ourlovesarang @drvirgus @1luvkarina @xinyusgf @yoontoonwhs @yjiminswallet @awhrin @rinapomu @multiliker @artrizzler19 @hyukassubi @sixflame438 @pinxeajin @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje @nasyu-kookies @deuxae @andaengjinlvr @demilvsrina @c-yerim

[dutiful-wildcraft]

Restoration Worship

Nikolai x Fat F! Reader Tags: monsterfucking, gargoyles, dubcon, overstimulation, tail sex, anal play, double penetration, squirting, cunnilingus, p in v, dirty talk.  I think thats about it, I think yall should know by now that every reader I write is fat, blacked out and wrote 3K words of gargoyle smut sooo… enjoy!

It had begun as a research effort, a little trip to the cemetery to hopefully procure some interesting insight into a little project she’d been working on for the museum. Eyes scanning over lichen covered graves and cracked mausoleums, words long faded in time. 

She’d seen the videos before. Kind strangers brushing away years of decay with a brush and patience. Who would we be without the knowledge from our predecessors after all? 

So with a passion for restoration and a need for busy hands she set to work, uncovering gracious prayers and one of the best cookie recipes she’d ever tasted set within the worn stone. 

It’s months before she comes across him. He’s a big boy, covered in lichen and the webs of spiders, stone stained heavily from the elements. Sharp claws curl into the pedestal he hunkers on, broad wings curled against his back, stone teeth bared in warning. 

Even like this he’s beautiful, strong features carved delicately in tarnished marble. 

She’d found her next project. 

A decade had passed since death had been at Nikolai’s doorstep, when he’d let the stone take him, closed himself off from the world to rest after an egregious injury. He’d watched over the lowly cemetery with weak eyes, until they too became covered. Until he’d lost himself to the void, consciousness falling into inky blackness as he waited amongst the trees. 

That is, until her.

His days had shifted from the chittering of squirrels and bird song to an incessant chatter. A soft english lilt that stirred something in his hazy mind. He likes the english. Past visions of old friends flash in his mind, warm dark skin, cigars, a mask made of bone. 

How could he forget? 

He strains, willing his senses back to life, listens harder for the soft voice amongst the tombstones. 

She talks to the dead, chattering away at graves that will never speak back to her. This graveyard is old, quiet, its occupants long passed over after they stopped burying the dead here, when their loved ones had long passed on themselves. 

She asks them questions, makes up stories, tells them about her day. She’s a museum conservator and she brings things back to life all the time. Making them shiny and new, loving them through hard work and careful hands so that others may get to love them too. 

And when she’s not talking she’s humming, or singing so off tune that even the birds grumble. But she’s laughing at herself,  looking up songs from the years written on the graves and playing those too, a little tune the deceased might be familiar with. 

Her voice bounces from grave to grave, and he realizes she’s cleaning them, scrubbing the dirt away and bidding them adieu when her task is finished. 

Sweet thing, he muses, wishing he could see her, wishing she would bring him to life too.

His dream comes true on a sunny afternoon, the summer rays warming his stone, waking him just a little more. 

She’s close, footsteps rustling the leaves at his feet as she circles him. 

“You keep watch don’t you?” she asks him seriously, and she’s right there. So close he can smell her, like blueberries and vanilla sugar, it’d make his mouth water if he could just move.

She speaks again, but he can barely register the words as warm gentle hands clear the infinite dark from his field of view. Brushing away vines and lichen.

“There! That’s better!” 

And there she is. A big soft girl, with sweet round cheeks flushed from the heat. He needs to hold her, crush her close and reward her for her kindness, but she’s gone just as quickly, promising to return to clean him properly, and his marble heart warms at the thought. He commits her form to memory, watching her soft braids sway against her back as she leaves.  

A longing seeping deep into his marrow as he lets the sleep take him again. 

She returns the following weekend, small spray rig and gentle cleaner in hand when she finds him again. She’s mindful, soft hands gently tugging at his limbs to test the durability before ambling her soft body onto his platform. It’s wonderful, to finally feel the heat of another against his skin, and he thinks if the sun weren’t touching him he could come to life now, tackle her into the soft grass and ravish her. He knows she’d be so sweet, whimpering and mewling under his touch. 

It would wait for another time. 

She works from the top down, soaking him with warm water before scrubbing him with soft bristle brushes. She’s delicate, leaning her soft body against his as she cleans, washing away years of dirt and moss. She scrubs behind his ears, in the bend of his horns, clearing the nests of insects from between his teeth. He revels in the feel of her, soft breasts and belly pressed to his skin, gentle hands stroking over the sensitive margins of his wings. Had he been mobile he’d be purring, with spread wings and stiff cock all over some gentle petting. 

He mourns when she leaves, water cooling against his stone as she packs up before nightfall. 

But it gives him time to practice.

It takes days, weeks, before he can move under the cover of night, limbs coming to life sluggishly, the world becoming more clear to his dulled senses. 

She returns like clockwork, spending the afternoons with him, chatting and humming, leaning against his platform as she eats her lunch. 

He can’t move far, just a few movements, but he gets greedy, finally willing his wings to open, letting them stretch pleasantly in the cool night air and freeze there when the sun freezes him again. 

She’s a bit startled when she returns, eyeing him with confusion and the broad reptilian wings spread proudly behind his back. Come closer love, they’ve always been this way.

Nevertheless she scrubs those too, warm hands petting over the webbing, ghost along the modified fingers of his wings. He has half a mind to wallow in the night, cover himself in more dirt if only to keep her trips regular. But he knows his time is coming to an end when she dusts away the last leaves from his pedestal. 

She has a final rest with him, his sweet keeper perched at his feet as she watches the sun disappear behind the trees. 

And finally, finally. As the soft light of the moon kisses his skin, he greets her. 

“Hello solnyshka” he purrs, voice low and gravely,  amusement crinkling pupil-less eyes, as he watches her nearly jump out of her skin. Scrambling away and whirling to take a look at the massive gargoyle.  He can see now, really see, and she’s lovely. Freckles dusting round cheeks, bulky denim and cotton hiding big soft curves underneath. 

She’s frozen, staring at him with wide eyes. He stretches, not unlike a cat, trembling slightly with the effort as he spreads his wings, lifts his hands above his head to crack his own spine, shaking away the stiffness from his tired bones. He relaxes again,  smiling at her fondly, revealing sharp fangs underneath. 

“I’m grateful for your work.” he calls again, taking a slow step off of his platform, clawed feet digging into the earth below. He is truly, his new keeper being the first ray of sun to truly grace his skin in decades. Just the light he needed to wake him from his slumber.  He needs to hold her, feel her softness under his claws. 

She swallows, clasping trembling hands in front of her. 

“I didn’t mean to be a bother, sir”

Sir.

He purrs at the honorific, but why did she think she was a bother? Had she not heard him?

“Not a bother, you’ve “restored” me” he chuckles, “quite well too” he adds looking over his limbs as he eases closer. “Call me Kolya.”

She repeats it, mimicking the accent just right, and being the polite thing she is, she gives him her name in return. It melts in his mouth like sugar, His pretty prize unaware of the hold she’s given him with just her name alone. 

“Come here, let me have a look at you”

She hesitates a moment before inching towards him, and he meets her halfway with a long stride, chin to his chest as he looks her up and down. His poor thing is so nervous. Fidgeting under his gaze, pulling, pushing and twisting at the joints of her fingers, desperate to get them to pop, to alleviate some of the tension in her body. 

He takes her hand in his, sliding a claw between her fingers to shake them loose, letting her soft little hand curl around his own. He dwarfs her, already half-hard with just her palm in his. He moves her carefully, flipping her hand over to trace a dark claw over the sensitive lines of her palm drawing a small shiver from her that has his cock twitching in interest. 

He continues, gliding his fingers up her arm, over her shoulder, toying briefly with the denim strap of her overalls. She’s bashful, keeping her eyes averted, a hot flush to her cheeks as he looks her over. 

“None of that” he chides, sliding his fingers beneath her chin, tilting her back. Her lips part, pupils blown as he smiles down at her, some of her nervousness melting away as he handles her so gently.  “So pretty, daragaya” and the stars in her eyes as he praises her break what little self control he has left. 

He’s quick, catching her round face in both hands and bending low, pressing a hungry kiss to her lips. She squirms briefly, hands flying up to grip his wrists in panic, he curls a tail around her calf, holding her neatly in place as he licks into her mouth, earning a soft gasp from his keeper as her lips part for him. 

Good gods, she even tastes sweet. 

He purrs happily into her mouth, savoring the taste of her flavored chapstick, the end of his tail flickering happily, brushing the soft curve of her ass. She’s panting now, a soft little whine bubbling from her throat at the contact. He dives low, licking a stripe across her jaw, reveling in the salt of her skin before nibbling and kissing his way down her throat, clawed fingers easily popping the cheap metal clasps of her outfit, pushing the denim away before yanking off the extra cotton shirt underneath. 

Nikolai thinks it should be forbidden for such soft curves to be hidden like that. She’s a vision, an angel with the most beautiful soft curves, and when he has her back in his den he’ll dress her in the finest silks and jewelry, pretty chains to hug her waist, dangle nicely between her breasts. Highlight all his favorite parts. He might even keep her bare, just for his eyes to see. 

She shivers in the cold, using her arms to cover her breasts as best as she could, eyes averted from his hungry gaze.  Why did she hide from him? There should be paintings of her, statues in her image. She was perfect. So warm and soft, he kneaded at the handles at her hips, clawed fingers tracing over the soft swell of her belly, the rolls at her sides, skin hot beneath his fingers. He huffs, snagging her wrists and holding them well above her head, using the extra digits at the ends of his wings to hold her there, pulled taught and vulnerable beneath his gaze.

With a sharp claw he rips away the scrap of fabric that covered her chest, large hands palming them eagerly, nipples pebbling under the warm drag of his thumbs. He hums, pinching and pulling at her perfect little tits, hard cock nudging incessantly at her belly, leaving glistening webs of pre-cum over her skin as she whimpers and gasps. 

“Kolya” she whines as he drags a hot tongue over her soft peaks, flicking his tongue over her pert skin before drawing a nipple into his mouth, nibbling and suckleing greedily. He breaks away, grinning up at her, sinking his teeth into the meat of her breast cheekily. She squirms, eyes squeezed tight and teeth dug into her plump lip as she tries halfheartedly to escape him. Though the wiggling only gives her tits a lovely jiggle that has him diving in again, nipping at her nipple just to earn himself another squeal. 

He kisses over the skin in a gentle apology before sliding down her belly, pressing a trail of hot kisses there before he reaches the seam of her panties, cute little curls peaking out around the edges at her thighs. He marvels at the dark stain of her arousal, pressing his nose into the soaked fabric and breathing deep. She bucks against his face, squirming madly to get some kind friction. Not so demure now are you?

“I’ll take care of you greedy girl, patience.” he warns, tail patting her ass fondly as he drags his tongue along the sodden fabric. He rips those away too, thick tongue sliding against her folds with little preamble, the resounding moan like music to his ears. Using his tail to tug her legs further apart, he lavishes her in earnest, slurping at her cunt like a beast, using his thumbs to spready her puffy lips apart. She’s heaven, sweet and tangy on his tongue, and he would stay here for hours, drinking her down until her legs gave out and then taking more. 

He sinks his tongue inside, licking into her tight heat as his nose brushes against her clit, humming wickedly as she cries and bucks. He takes control, dragging his claws up to grip her hips, guiding her into a nice and easy rhythm against his face. He loves every minute of it, reveling in the drag of her soaked folds against his tongue,  the broken whines as he breaks away to suck her clit. He drags her to the edge over and over, fucking his tongue back into her wet heat and nosing at her sensitive nerves until she’s gushing against his face with a choked cry. 

“So good, solnyshka” he praises, sitting back on his haunches to admire his work. He leans in, licking a hot stripe up her thigh, catching the errant rivulets of slick as they drip from her. 

“So wet, I bet we can make a bigger mess can’t we?” he purrs, dragging his knuckles against the soaked seam of her sex, drawing a tired whimper from her. She sags against his hold, chest flushed, and thighs soaked. He could devour her whole like this. 

He releases her, lifting her spent body into his arms, easing her down onto the clean pedestal that was once his. Pushing her legs apart he slides between them, sliding his neglected cock over her folds, using his tip to rub at her sensitive clit before sliding it along her body. He’s thick, head tapered to a near point, thick ridges rippling along underside of his shaft for a textured drag. Heavy balls kiss the seam of her sex as he rests there, tip drooling against her stomach. He needs her to see what she’s getting herself into, how much she’ll need to take for him. His soft girl looks up at him, big glassy eyes full of nervous anticipation. 

“I know” he coos, grinding himself against her skin, “you can take it, my perfect girl, we just need a little more room.”

He needs her pliant, well stretched to take him fully. With his claws as they were, using his fingers wasn’t an option,  but he does have another solution. Dragging a heavy palm through her slick he grabs hold of his tail, coating the tapered end thoroughly before guiding it toward her entrance, using a thumb to circle her clit as he slips inside. 

The tip is easy, no thicker than a couple of her fingers as it pushes its way inside, the glide nice and easy from her previous orgasm. He fucks nice and slow, thrusting the tip in shallowly until she’s whining for more. He leans over her, rutting his cock against the crease of her thigh as he sinks his tail in further, fucks into her with more speed, using his hands wisely to play with her tits, rolling her nipples between his fingers and nibbling at her lips to distract her from the stretch. She’s holding on for dear life, hands gripping his horns for purchase. 

Even as spent as she is, she clenches around him desperately, sweet pussy desperate to take as much of him as she can. He can’t wait to feel her pulsing against his cock. Wet and hot, and so so tight. 

He growls, rutting into her with more fervor. She’s close, chubby thighs clenching as he curls the tip of his tail a bit, just to bully more of his length inside of her. She’s lost in it, frantically kissing at his face as her peak draws closer and closer.  Sneaking a thumb against her clit she cums again, legs slamming shut against his tail as he fucks her through it, laughing as she sobs, shoving at him weakly as she gushes messily around him again, slick coating his abdomen and dribbling down the stone underneath. 

“Good girl, one more for me zoloste, I know you can do it.” He yanks her thighs apart pulling his tail from her greedy cunt and dragging her further down the pedestal, her plush ass hanging off the edge. He rests her thighs against his chest, kissing her ankle soothingly as he drags himself through her slick folds, thoroughly coating himself before lining up with her entrance. 

Even with the prep it’s a tight squeeze. He takes it slow, bullying his way inside her soaked heat, gummy walls squeezing him tight as he sinks in, whimpering as the ridges of his cock drag against her sore entrance.  He fucks slowly, pumping in shallow thrusts before he pulls out again, teasing her tired clit and pushing in again, head thrown back with victorious groan as he finally pushes himself to the hilt. 

Its a gorgeous sight, her pussy split open on the girth of him, legs spread wide and clit twitching as he fucks her with tight shallow circles. She’s a mess, cheeks streaked with tears and trembling against the stone, whimpers and little hiccups falling from her lips. He hushes her, sliding his palms against her thighs, catching her hands to curl his fingers in hers, anchoring her there as he picks up the pace. 

She’s already close, cunt clenching around him with every thrust. He fucks into her with earnest, her pretty fat pussy swallowing him down to the balls as the sticky slap of it echoes through the cemetery. 

“Fuck, taking me like you were made for it.”  he snarls bending over her to lick into her mouth, swallowing every little cry and plea as he fucks her mercilessly, soft body jiggling with the harshness of it. 

“You’ll give me anything won’t you? Let me fill up this pretty pussy.” he pants, yanking her closer, and with a sick knowing grin, his tail slides underneath her, slick tip toying with her asshole. “Let me fill this pretty ass too, wouldn’t you?”

“Anything you want, Kolya, please, please,”  she begs, his perfect girl cock drunk and hazy, tears spilling down her cheeks as she rocks into him for more. 

“Don’t even know what's good for you, silly girl, you’d let me tear you in two.” he chuckles, “ but I’ll give you a little taste.” His tip slides between her cheeks, already slick from her own juices.  He teases her there, flickering playfully at her hole before sinking in slowly, pushing just past her tight ring of muscle to fill her up, groaning at the feel of his own cock sliding against her walls. 

Her next orgasm takes her like a freight train, soft body arching and trembling as it ravages through her. He fucks her through it, pussy clenching him like a vice as he pulls his tail from her ass, sharp claws digging into the meat of her hips hard enough to draw blood as he chases his own end. 

Snarling like a beast he pounds into her, sinking himself deep as he comes with a low growl, painting her insides with long spurts. Filling her completely until his spend seeps out around his cock, spilling down her thighs and into the soft earth below. 

He holds them there like that, cock buried deep as he marks her from the inside out, his bulky head resting against her breasts as they both come down. 

His, his, his. 

His perfect soft girl, flushed and damp from sweat and slick, trembling hands carding though his dark hair.  Kind and gentle despite the way he ravaged her. 

And when she leans up, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips with a nervous giggle, he knows he’ll guard her for the rest of his days. 

[ghostyeyestohide]

I Put A Spell On You

Pairing: Terrance (Foe) x Valerie (Plus Size Black Fem OC)

Warnings: SMUT (not too extreme), 18+ (MINORS, SCROLL AWAY), buildup (if you got the attention span of a squirrel, DONT READ), titty fondling, oral sex (f receiving, m receiving), bisexuality (from m), masturbation, slight edging, spitting, slapping, smoking, choking, striptease, some femdom, dirty talk, praise kink, creampie, cussing, aftercare, mentioning of death, a hint of voyeurism (from Junior), and Non-Canon.

Parts: Part Two • Part Three

Summary: After a day of examining Junior, Terrance returns home for a sit down dinner with his wife, Valerie, who wants to do a little more afterwards.

A/N: So, I basically restarted this app with a new account just to snoop around and read smut. I noticed that Aaron became even more popular now, and since there is already a lot of Terry fics, I thought it would be perfect for me to finally show my idea of how I think Foe should’ve went if I was in the writers room as someone who has seen the movie and read the book. I’m making this a two (or four) part series as I got the perfect bisexual hookup scene for Terrance, Junior, and OC since Ian and Garth didn’t want to give it to us in the movie, so that’s otw! And this is a one time thing as I been retired for a decade from fanfic (smut) writing, so ENJOY!

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do not copy or repost my work. I do not authorize it.

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Valerie was in the kitchen, spreading parmesan and fresh basil on top of the toasted cheesy garlic bread when she heard a car pulling up in the driveway. She walks to the window near the door, pulling the curtain back a little to see who it was.

The sounds of the door unlocking is heard, with it lifting up. Out comes Terrance, her husband and OuterMore’s hardest worker. He looked exhausted in his light brown top, black slacks, and black dress shoes, but happy. She smiles, walking towards the door to greet him.

“And there’s my beautiful girl in her pretty, ruffled dress.” Terrance states as he walked through the door, smiling as he puts his suitcase down and pulls her into an embrace.

Valerie chuckles before placing her lips over his, giving him a long but sweet kiss, to which he responds by doing the same.

“Sounds like someone had a good day today.” says Valerie, wrapping her arms around his neck and looking at him.

“Yes, I did. Love to tell you about it over dinner because my word, it smells wonderful in here.” he replies, getting a chuckle out of the both of them.

“Oh stop! It’s nothing crazy, just spaghetti with meatballs, cheesy garlic bread, some Caesar salad with the crisp parmesan, and that bottle of white wine you got from your previous assignment.” she replies sly, tracing her finger over his shirt.

“And I’m guessing you’re the dessert?” he asked in a low, seductive tone that enhances his British accent well while rubbing over her curves. Valerie laughs as she pecks his nose with a kiss.

“I mean…..I could be that, but I was looking forward to eating my homemade lemon loaf, drenched in homemade lemon buttercream, with that vanilla ice cream I also made, but we can go with your first option!” she responds with a smile.

“Dont tempt me with temptation already out there, Val.” he replies, kissing her again.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Terrance stammers, looking for the correct thing to say.

“You know I’m talking about that cake, dear. But, I’ll go change so I don’t keep you waiting. I am hungry after all!” Terrance exclaimed, kissing her one more time before going up the stairs to their room.

“Hurry! I���m not one to be waited on, Terrance!” she replied jokingly as she picks up his suitcase and places it on the living room table before walking back to the kitchen.

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As the couple ate their dinner and drank their wine, Valerie started first with how she spent her day crocheting new clothes for herself to wear, reading some books, and prepared the food as Terrance talked about what him and Junior did, from him watching him do farm work to doing scans on his body for measurements, assuring he has everything that the real Junior gave them.

“And then, I had dinner with them. Of course, I didn’t eat as I told them you were cooking, just some wine and whatnot. For some odd reason, Junior started going off.” said Terrance as he bit into his slice of lemon loaf and ice cream.

“Going off?” asked Valerie, very confused since he told her he was perfectly fine all day.

“I told them the trip to the space station is coming sooner and he knew this when I told him on the farm. But now, he was mad, saying “I don’t want a robot living with my wife!” angrily and demanding that we go outside and fight.”

“With a broken arm?” she asked as she ate some of her slice. Terrance nods as he dranked some of his wine.

“You had to be there to get it. It was a bit scary, but…..it was very indecent that he was doing all of that while not looking at Hen not once.”

“Hm.” she nodded, looking down at her bowl.

“And what was Hen doing by the way?” she asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Oh. She was trying to calm him down. Saying “do the fight test with me, not him” blah blah, and then, I can’t remember the exact words, she said something and he basically called her stupid. I laughed, which I shouldn’t have and she got mad at me. So, she got up from the table, crawled across it slightly, and slapped me…..” Terrance replied, with his voice going quiet with the last few words.

Valerie sat there expressionless, taking in the words that just came out of her husband’s mouth. Hen slapped Terrance kept replaying in her mind, slowly adding to the burning sensation that was growing inside her. Finally, she got up and put her bowl in the sink.

“Val, are you oka—“

“You let that miserable bitch slap you…..you let Hen, who changes emotions like she has a permanent period, slap you?!” Valerie cuts him off, looking at him with anger all over her.

Terrance gets up, slowly walks up to her in order to not make her even more mad.

“You have to understand: I deserved that slap. He basically insulted her and I had no business laughing!” he responded with.

“I don’t give a fuck if you’re the one who insulted her, she had no right to put her hands on you! And you’re calm about it?” she said, slamming her hands on the island in front of her, startling Terrance.

Valerie shakes her head, thinking if he should continue his assignment of watching Junior and Hen or stay home permanently for her sanity.

“I can’t do anything or we’ll accidentally reveal what he truly is.” he replies, throwing his hands up. Valerie scoffs, just in shock at how calm he’s being about this.

“Why couldn’t she take it out on her walking sex toy since he the one who said it? You’re the not the one in a loveless marriage.” she states.

“……do you see yourself as that?” he asked her.

“In a loveless marriage?”

“No. What you called him.”

“…..no. I’m just…..ugh. How can you hate your actual husband, but fucking on a replica of him?. Is it love? Is it hate? Or is she just confused…..” she said, stopping in her tracks before looking away from Terrance.

Terrance looks back at her confused, trying to figure out how would his wife know that if he never told her much about Hen. Then, it hit him.

“…..you been reading my files behind my back again. After I told you not to do that”

Valerie lets out a cold laugh before looking at Terrance again, tears swelling up in her eyes.

“That’s the only way I can keep pretending to live the life the real Valerie would be as the man, who makes endless promises to not push her to the side, fawns over his growing sexual attraction to his newest assignment in Junior.” she responds with, tears now falling down her face.

Terrance exhales quietly, leans up against the counter as he faces away from her.

“You read that in the notes, huh.”

“…..is it true? Or are you just toying with him and keeping proof?”

Terrance sighs, rubbing his face as he stands near the island in front of her. Taking in what she said, he pulls out a cigarette, lights it up and smokes it, blowing the smoke away from her.

“Okay. I am attracted to him. I’ll admit it.” he replies.

Valerie wipes her tears, inhaling and exhaling quietly before clearing her throat.

“Always knew the minute you can home and told me about meeting them. The way you mention his name, what he does, how he acts, his instant rejection to being chosen to go to space…….almost similar to Valerie’s story. Which I’m assuming you have yet to mention that to them.” she said, locking eyes with him.

“They don’t need to know that.”

“Why not? Will it make things worse when you ask him to run away with you?”

He looks at her in disbelief, caught off guard with what she just said.

“If you think I’m leaving you for him, I’m not. I can’t have any type of sexual contact with any of our subjects or I get terminated. And they take you back since you’re their property. You knew this the minute you were made.” he says, blowing more smoke out.

Valerie looks down, slightly embarrassed about throwing that accusation out. She was afraid that he was going to risk everything by being with Junior, putting everyone in danger. Terrance blows out smoke one more time before tossing the cigarette and stands in front of Valerie.

“Hey.” he gently holds her chin up, looking into her eyes. “I can’t throw off this feeling I get when I’m around him. He just brings something I never seen in other subjects out of me. But, I have control. You know me too well for me to abandon you like that.”

He wraps his hand around Valerie’s face, wiping away tears as he kisses her.

“Those notes don’t mean shit to me right now. You do. You’re the only thing I have left of her, replica or not. You been with me all these years and never once have I ever did anything that seemed like I don’t value you anymore. I never forgot about the things you love, the things you do, and the things I do for you that make you happy. I always go home to you, which OuterMore hates since it violates the ‘staying at the subject’s house’ rule, but I refused to let you be here all alone out here. And this won’t change that.” he says as he begins to rub on her body.

“I know you’re being genuine, but this……this is becoming an obsession and it needs to stop.” she responds, pointing at Terrance’s suitcase on the table.

He laughs, gently rubbing his hands all over her body as Valerie tries to fight against it, but fails.

“I’m serious, Terrance.” she states, gently pushing him back.

Terrance turns Valerie around, with her back against him as he has her pressed against the sink. He begins placing soft kisses all over her back and neck, making her let out some soft moans.

“He’ll be home soon. That Junior will go back to the factory and we’ll move on from all of this. It will always be just the two of us. You. Just. Need. To. Trust. Me. Val.” he responds, with each sentence and word ending with a kiss as he slowly lowers himself to his knees, positioning himself in front of Valerie’s ass. He starts tracing over her legs, brushing closer and closer to her pulsating heat.

“Uh-uh” she responds, placing her right foot against his chest and gently pushing him back, creating some distance as she turns around.

“I can’t get a taste first?” he asked, looking into her eyes with a pathetic, begging look.

She shakes her head ���no’. “Go sit on the couch.” she says as she gently removes her foot from his chest.

Terrance smirks before carefully getting up and walking to the couch. She grabs their wine glasses, pouring the remaining bottle in each one before bringing it over to where he’s seated at.

She places his glass on the table before walking over to their vinyl player, turning it on before placing the needle on the disc, tuning the volume as the song begins to play:

Turning around to face Terrance, who has his wine in his hand now, she begins dancing seductively while drinking, hitting her marks as she lipsync to the voice of Nina Simone.

I put a spell on you

Cause you’re mine as she points at him, earning a smile back from him, who is slowly becoming even more aroused at her movements.

As she slowly walks over to stand in his view, she notices a male stranger is standing outside of their window near the door, watching them. He looked intrigued, with his messy clothes, dark brown hair, Roman-sculpted face and piercing blue eyes staring at her. Noticing a bandaged arm wrapped against his chest, she realizes who this stranger is.

“Junior,” she said in her mind.

“Everything okay, baby?” said Terrance, very concerned for why she stopped suddenly.

She snaps back into motion, not mentioning to him that his subject is also watching her do a dance that’s only meant for his eyes. She doesn’t seem to care, only focusing on showing where the love should always be.

You know I can’t stand it

You’re running around

You know better, daddy as she gently sits in front of him on the table, placing her glass on her left. She begins to untie the knot on her strings that hold her breasts up, letting the top fall down to expose them.

He leans forward, tempted to touch her, but she slaps his hand away, belting out the next part:

I put a spell on you

Because you’re mine as she stands up and walks behind the table.

You’re mine as she removes the rest of her dress, leaving her in just her lacy underwear. She gestures him to remove his clothes, but play with himself afterwards.

Now even more aroused, he complies with her order, gently taking out his semi-hard length and begins jacking off slowly, growing with each stroke.

Sipping her wine, she locks eyes with Junior to see if he’s still watching. To her amusement, he was, gently breathing against the window while slowly stroking himself. This is exactly what she wanted to happen: two men who are avoiding each other to not violate the rules both salivating over her. Just one gets to fully experience her as the other one watches.

I love you, I love you as she sits in a chair that faces Terrance, rolling her hips as he watches with hunger in his eyes.

I love you, I love you anyhow

I don’t care if you don’t want me as she gently removes her panties.

I’m yours right now as she tosses them towards him.

Oh you hear me

I put a spell on you as she opens her legs, exposing her glistening bliss towards him, gesturing him to come to her, but slowly.

Terrance gets up, walking towards her as she gently rubs her clit, looking at his girthy, long length swinging back and forth.

Because you’re mine as he kneels in front of her, giving her a fat sloppy kiss before moving down towards her pussy, placing his mouth over her slit, making her inhale loudly at the friction of being touched.

He begins to flick his tongue in and out, burying his face deeper in between as she places her hands on his head, gently pushing it down a bit more.

“Wow, you really were hunger.” she laughs before being replaced by her moans.

He hums on it to vibrate around her, gently rubbing her folds with one hand as the other creeps up to her breasts, gently rubbing them.

“Fuck…you’re so good when you’re on your knees, pleasing me.” she whispered as she exhaled loudly when he inserts one finger inside, gently rubbing at her spot that she likes that he hits while fucking her.

As he adds another finger inside and speeds up the pace, she looks at Junior once more, see his self pleasuring has sped up too. There shouldn’t be a reason that Val is enjoying this so much, being devoured by a man who helped create her to replace the emptiness of his deceased wife as a replica of another watches them hungrily, desperately wanting to join them.

“I’m getting closer and close—oh, fuck!” she exclaims as Terrance begins sucking hard on her clit, repeatedly plunges his fingers inside her, watching her squirm with his eyes locked on her.

After her moans grow louder and louder, she finally releases, the sensation washing all over her and Terrance’s face. After a few minutes of regaining herself, he removes his face from her, which is covered in her essence.

“Come here.” he mumbled as he gently pulls her up for another sloppy kiss, mixing in her juices with her mouth. She responds by kissing him back harder, gently wrapping her hand around his length and stroking it, causing him to groan.

“Fuck, you’re perfect. You know that, right?” he says, throwing his head back as she strokes around his tip.

Valerie gives an ‘mmhm’ as she places kisses all over Terrance’s chest and abs, leaving a few marks as she trails lower and lower to his length. She lets go, tracing it with her tongue before engulfing him into her mouth, making him let out a soft moan.

“Just like that.” he says as he gently grabs a fistful of her curls before she slaps his hand away.

“I mentioned you have to work for it. That means no touching me and following my orders.” she said as she looks up at him, stroking his length in her hands.

“You let me eat you out. And push me down into it.”

“That’s your job. Being on your knees for me and me only.”

Terrance chuckles quietly, nodding his head as Valerie continues sucking him, gently massaging his balls as she strokes the rest of what she can’t fit into her mouth.

She looks out the corner of her eyes to see if Junior was still watching, but noticed his disappearance. I guess he couldn’t bare to see more of something he can’t touch physically. She looks up at Terrance and begins bobbing her head & hands faster, going off the adrenaline that sudden decided to pop inside her.

“You’re gonna make me bust fast, doing that.” he groaned, tensing up at his growing climax inside him.

Valerie laughed, speeding up the pace. Terrance began letting out some expletive, hinting that he’s near. Just as it was about to release, she stopped just in time, with him inhaling and exhaling hard.

“Told you you’re working for it.” she says, winking at him before letting it go and laying back in the chair. He laughs slyly, licking his lips as he examined her body. Her curves fit in the right places, her skin glowed like she was a diamond, and her busty elements enhanced her beauty. She was the perfect woman for him and he wouldn’t give that up for anything. Not even him.

“Where do you want me to be?” he asked, gently stroking himself.

Valerie repositions herself, put each leg on the post of chair, exposing her heat like she did previously before he ate her out. She gently taps her pussy, gesturing him to insert there first. She was eager to feel him inside her, waiting enough to get what she wanted.

He nodded, lining himself up to her entrance. Before he inserted, he let out a long trail of his spit out of his mouth, using his tip to rub it all over her clit and lips. He then inserted himself inside, both lovers letting out a loud gasp as she instantly clenched around him. He gripped her legs, gently moving his hips to get her adjusted.

“No matter how many times we make love, mm,….it still feels like you’re getting bigger and bigger each time.” she whispered, gently scratching over his abs.

“Oh yeah?” he asked before pushing all of him inside her, lifting her legs towards her chest. Valerie gasps, taken aback by the sudden move. He laughs before gently kissing her face, swaying his hips around a bit.

“What do you want me to do now? Since you’re in charge.” he mumbles against her cheek.

“You know how I like it. Don’t overexceed it.” she replies before moving his right hand around her neck, keeping both her hands wrapped around it.

He starts with a quick thrust, causing her to let out a low moan. Then, he picks up the pace a bit, continuously slamming his pelvis into her thighs. He squeezes her throat a bit as his thrusts become even more aggressive, making her let out a bunch of lewd sounds she never thought she could make mixing in with the sounds of her wetness being poked fills the living room.

“Fuck, you’re gonna break me, Terra-mmhm! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she yelled as he hit her sweet spot over and over, moaning louder.

Terrance puts his left hand on top of the chair, holding it in place as he continued fucking her, slowly building up both of their releases as Valerie becomes a pleasure mess under him.

“Come on and let me release, Val. I already got your release coming and I’m not too far behind you.” he states as he looks down at her, giving her deep thrusts.

She lets out a hoarse chuckle before being cut off by how sloppy his thrusts were becoming, feeling herself on the edge of release. Just as it was about to occur, she pulls his length out, feeling it beating hard in her hand.

Terrance, puffing very hard, looked at her in disbelief, once again being denied release. He scoffs sarcastically, gently rubbing her breasts.

“You’re making me work hard for mines, you’re denying your own.” he said.

“Makes this even more fun. And worth the wait. Now lay across the table.” she replied, gently pushing him off her.

He bits his lip as he walks towards the table, grabbing a few pillows and placing them on it before laying onto, carefully positioning himself.

“Hands above head.” she says as she gets up.

He obliges, placing his hands above, anticipating what she’s gonna tell him to do next. The cool air in the air, settles on his skin, creating goosebumps as his heated length slightly moves up and down, yearning to be touched again.

As she walks over slowly, something in the window between the kitchen and the living room (by the fireplace) catches her eye. She notice its Junior instantly, admiring her and him. Had he been standing there the whole time or does he moves to get a better a view of the show?

Becoming even more aroused, she kneels down in front of Terrance, beginning to place a trail of kisses, from his thighs to his length to his chest to his neck and lastly, his mouth, positioning herself on top of him. She sits up, looking down at the man, who’s looking at her with a dark glare in his eyes.

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me? she asks, slightly moving her hips to grind on his length, making his hands and mouth twitch.

“Mmhm.” is all he could get out, fighting real hard to not touch her.

Suddenly, she slaps him across his face. It wasn’t hard, but with the way she gasped, that wasn’t her intention at all. Trying to play it off, she wraps her left hand around his throat, squeezing it. He lets out a stifled groan, breathing hard as the stinging brewed on his cheek.

“When I ask you a question, I expect an answer, not a sound. So let me ask you again: are you going to be a good boy for me?” she asks, tilting down towards him.

“Yes. Yes. I am going to be a good bo—“ he’s cut off by her lowering herself onto his length, causing him to buck his hips upwards.

“Fix yourself right now. Or you don’t get a release.”

He relaxes, letting his hips lie down as she begins moving her hips back and forth, creating a aphrodisiac motion that makes her moan his name a few times and praising how good he’s making her feel right now.

“Touch me up here and look at your art, please.” she cries out as she pulls his hands towards her breasts, letting go of his throat. She looks at him quickly, who is mesmerized at what she’s doing, before look back at him, slamming herself down on him again.

Terrance gently massages them, breathing hard as he was in awe at how much she’s enjoying doing this. Every bounce, every speed, every curve, every moan, he was happy that this was pleasing her as much as it’s pleasing him. He can feel her release building up again as she begins to slow down her pace.

“Mm. Can you…can you finish……” she asks as she collapses onto his chest, breathing hard. He chuckled, amused that she lasted almost close to her release.

“Do I have permission to receive my release?” he asks, gently massaging her back.

“Yes. You deserve it, finally.” she replies in an exhausting manner.

He kisses her forehead before hooking his arms under her legs, picking her up as he stands up, not fully removing her from his length. He gently lays them on the couch, positioning a pillow under her before he started to pound her, causing her to let out some screams.

“Not so dominant after slapping the shit of me, huh?” he asked, aligning himself face-to-face with her as he wrapped his hands around her neck, still having her legs hooked in his arms.

Valerie lets out a stifled ‘no’, moaning loud as she watches his length go in and out of her, feeling like she’s losing oxygen at the sensation.

“Play with yourself for me. I wanna see this beautiful pussy cumming all over me, this masterpiece of a body shake, making its mark as I fill you up. Can you do that for me, Val?” he whispered as he deepens his thrusts, sweat dripping down his face and body on her, who is in a daze with her body’s reaction.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!” she yells as finally, while rubbing her clit, her release washes over her, causing her to shake unbearably and squirt all over him and the couch.

Terrance moans “that’s my girl” as he thrusts a few more times before releasing inside her, letting out grunts as his load pumps into her womb, laying on top of her until he was finished.

The couple laid in silence, calmly rubbing each other, for a few minutes before Terrance removes himself from her, both groaning at the separation. He gets up and goes to a different room, disappearing for a few minutes.

As she waits for him to return, she looks again to see if he was still watching. He was gone this time, taking what he saw with him back home. She smiled, knowing this about to be so awkward when they finally meet.

A wiping between her legs snaps her out of her thoughts. She looks up and see Terrance, wearing a robe now, wiping off any juices or sweat with a wet cloth. He sits her up, lays a robe near, as he walked to the dirty laundry basket, tosses the cloth in there before walking to the kitchen. He grabs the both of them a bottle of water and sits next to her, taking out a cigarette to smoke.

“Drink.” he whispered, handing her a bottle.

Valerie nods, taking it and sipping some of it. She grabs the robe and puts it on as he lit his cigarette.

“Anything feel loose? Feeling low on your fluid? I can go grab your case so you can change your tab.” he said.

She shakes her ‘no’, tying the robe string around her waist to close it. She leans over to give him a few kisses, placing some over his face.

“…I’m sorry for slapping you.” she says, giving him puppy eyes.

“You’re good. You were just in your element, that’s all.” he replied, puffing out smoke.

“You sure? Cause I can see my hand mark slowly forming on your face.” she said, leaning over as she traced it with her fingers.

“At least you marked your territory.” he responded with, making both of them laugh.

Valerie laid on Terrance’s shoulder, slowly closing her eyes as she is exhausted from the partaking she did. He gently traces over her thighs, looking down at her.

“Did you see something out there while we were making love?” he asked.

“Hm?”

“You kept looking at something towards the window for a few moments. Was there something there?”

“….no. I think I was….getting myself caught in my own spell. And I kinda like it.”

“Glad you do. It makes you even more hotter.”

She feels him smile against her head before he placed a kiss on it, continuing his smoke as she fell asleep on him, tiredness finally taken over her. He looks at his suitcase again, thinking about what the next few weeks here is gonna look like.

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

A/N II: Started this at 8 PM on Saturday and I finished it this morning. This is how you know I’m a writer with experience (writing fanfics, essays, screenplays, reviews of film and tv) because I cannot believe I wrote all this in two days.

Part 2 is currently in progress and it is now a four part, but two of them will be like a little emotional so I can show a little more of my writing in screenplays style.

If you want to be tagged in it when I publish it, let me know so I can make a list. Have a good day/night, everyone! 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

[buckyalpine]

Here’s the ask babe!

Like okay, I get it it’s pretty obvious that Bucky absolutely adores her. But what if those intrusive thoughts and insecurities get the best of her? After a couple of fucks here and there, she still thinks Bucky isn’t into her until one party. Bucky asks if she would like to be his date Bc he wants to show everyone his girl. And then she gets all flustered and confused like, wdym? You want me? As in me? You want to show me off?? Not to mention as YOUR girl?? Did we talk abt this? Are you kidding? Then blah blah blah feelings ensue then the party comes and Bucky couldn’t keep his hands off of her, and the plot twist of it all, she was also hot and bothered by bucky’s look. So as a thank you, she pulls Bucky to leave the party early and to bucky’s surprise? There’s a major freak inside her. Literally F R EEEE A K. FREAK LIKE ME YOU WANT A GOOD GIRL THAT DOES BAD THINGS KINDA GIRL JUST HER INITIATING ALL THE FILTHY SEX

Then some good love making lovin lovin 😭💗

18+

YEESS I remember when we talked about this and it made me feral. Here is my feral ass finally getting to write it I love this. SO MUCH. 

Horny horny Bucky is out of his cage with some smutty smut and fluffy fluffff 

-

It all started with you and Bucky being the last two awake after a team game night. At least it started off as a game night until almost everyone got hammered and trudged to their rooms one by one. Except you and Bucky. You continued to nurse a beer while Bucky sipped on the rest of the mead Thor had poured for him. He couldn’t help but glance over to you every so often, his eyes flicking to your bare legs, hardly covered by your tiny night shorts. The pulse in his veins started to travel down south and before he could stop himself, his mouth was already moving. 

“Y’know it’s still game night doll” He smirked, biting his lip while you peeked up at him through your lashes. The fact that you were so shy made him want you even more. Not just to fuck, he genuinely wanted you to be his but that would have to be an actual conversation for when he was sober. 

“Uh huh, what’s on your mind Barnes” You cocked your head, letting the alcohol give you a mini boost of confidence you’d never normally have around the super solider. His mischievous blue eyes twinkled, shifting closer to you till his thighs brushed against yours. 

“We could play another game?” He sounded hopeful and it made you curious because there were few games Bucky actually enjoyed playing. 

“And what game is that?”

“We could play Twister?” 

You could tell by the way he was chewing on his lip, there was more to this than he was letting on. “You really want to just play twister? Just the two of us?” You giggled while he shook his head, inching even closer to you. 

“We could make it a little interesting?”

“How so” 

“I mean we could fold the mat a little...so it’s a little more challenging...”

“And...?”

“Strip every time you slip or fall” He stated, his cock twitching in his sweats. This was 100% the alcohol controlling the squirrel in his brain but there was no going back now. His eyes flicked to the way you squeezed your thighs together, hesitating for a moment before quickly downing the rest of your beer. 

“Fine”

Bucky grinned, getting up to grab the box, spreading out the sheet and folding it slightly so it was a smaller area to play around. He grabbed the spinner, placing on the middle of the mat since there was no one else but you two. 

“Ladies first” He smirked while you shook your head, spinning the arrow, landing on left foot red. You both went back and forth with relative ease until it was your turn to move your hand and you twisted your body awkwardly. 

“Ooof”  Your ass hit the ground with a soft thumb while Bucky snorted, standing up and lifting you with him, his blue eyes still sparkling. 

“So what’s it gonna be” He wigged his eyebrows while you felt your body heat up, throwing him a smirk when you took off your earrings.

“Really? Your earrings?” He sassed while you shrugged, spinning the arrow for a new game. You had managed to last a little longer than the last game but tripped over Bucky’s foot which you swore wasn’t that close to you earlier. 

“You cheated” You huffed, contemplating on what to take off next. There really wasn’t much, you were only in your sleep shorts, an over sized t-shirt and your underwear. 

“Why would I do that doll” Bucky smiled innocently while you narrowed your eyes, smiling triumphantly, taking off a hair tie on your wrist. 

“There” You stuck your tongue out at him while he rolled his eyes, starting a new game. This time Bucky was the one who had fell down. He proudly took off one sock while you stared at him; he insisted it only had to be 1 article of clothing so his 1 sock was perfectly acceptable. Then he fell again. 

“It’s not fair, you’re wearing more clothes than me” You huffed, rolling your eyes as Bucky snorted, smugly taking off another sock.

“If you want to see me naked, just say it doll” He winked while you felt your face heat up, shaking your head.

“Shut up and spin” 

You both continued to spin, both your hearts racing wondering who would have to actually take something off first. You started to feel a little confident until you had to reach across the mat again. 

And you slipped. 

“So, what’s it gonna be now” Bucky gazed down at you, his voice had dropped several octaves.

You bit your lip, grabbing the hem of your shirt and tossing it over your head; you could have sworn you heard him growl as his eyes trailed up and down your body, blinking at the way your nipples faintly poked through your lounge bra. 

New game. He fell. 

His eyes were locked with yours as he threw his t-shirt off, rolling his shoulders back, his metal arm almost glowing under the soft low light of the living room. 

New game. He fell again, smirking as he took his sweats off, your eyes growing wide at the thick bulge that was straining against the fabric. 

New game. You fell. 

You hesitate for moment, keeping your eyes trained on your feel like you wiggled your sleep shorts off.  You stood in your bra and panties while he stood in his briefs. He hummed, not even bothering to hide the way his erection was practically throbbing. 

“Your turn princess, ready for another round?” He whispered, his heart rate picking up, eyes dark as you spun the arrow, your ass brushing right against his cock. He bit back a moan, lightly rolling his hips for more friction to tease you before moving his body around you as you called right hand green. His arm knocked against yours, slipping while he took you down with him. 

Your body landed on top of his, your eyes growing wide when he wrapped his arms around you and rolled your over so you were pinned under him. 

“You fell Barnes, I win” You sassed, squeaking when he rubbed his boner against your panties, smirking at the way you instinctively went to squeeze your thighs together, his waist in the way.

“You’re right baby, guess I gotta take this off, huh?” He straddled you, pulling down his boxers just enough to free his cock, the tip nearly brushing against your lips. You let out a soft moan, your eyes blown with lust, your panties soaked at the sight before you while he cocked his head, stroking his cock in front of your face. “Finish the game in my room?”

That night started it. It was fun. Nothing crazy, nothing complicated, the both of you occasionally fooling around. Sometimes Bucky would come by and hang out in your room, lingering around for longer than necessary until you both ended up on your bed making out. To taking your clothes off. To having your legs spread for him while he railed you with his cock. 

Every single time Bucky came over, he wanted to tell you he liked you, but he hoped you just already knew, his tongue getting tied in knots when he tried to bring up how he felt around you. What he didn’t know was you were equally head over heels crazy for him but you didn’t think he’d ever see you that way. 

You bit your tongue every time you wanted to tell him how much you adored him, how much you wanted him to be yours. Your hands itched when you wanted to cuddle him closer, desperately wanting to shove your face into his chest whenever you saw him. You wanted to curl up on him like a kitten and nap at any time of the day but you were limited to the few moments you had together after sex. 

*****

“Soo...”

“Soo?” You peeked up at Bucky through your lashes, comfortable snuggled in his arms after he had taken you apart with his mouth, He traced some imaginary shapes onto your spine making you shiver. 

“Stark’s having that party and I was hoping...” His cheeks blushed, biting his lip nervously before continuing, “Would you want to be my date doll?” 

You looked at him with wide eyes, pure disbelief etched across your face. You sat up slightly, blinking at him, “You want me to be your date? Are-are you sure? Me?”

“What do you mean sweets? Of course I do and of course you” Bucky pulled you closer to him, chuckling at your shocked expression. “Babygirl, I wanna show you off to everyone. Show everyone this beautiful doll that’s all mine that I adore so much. You’re my girl, baby” 

His girl.

Your cheeks  heated up, feeling giddy on the inside as he cupped your cheeks brining you close so he could peck a kiss to your lips. 

“I’d-I’d really love to, I just-I didn’t think you liked me like that” you whispered, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, toying with the chain of his dog tags while he smiled, tilting your chin to look at him. 

“Why wouldn’t I like you angel, you’re the best thing to even happy to me” He rolled over on top of you, peppering you with a hundred kisses while you giggled, spending the rest of the day thinking about what you were going to wear. 

Party Night 

Bucky scanned the crowd, trying to spot you, his eyes growing wide when he realized it was you sitting by the bar. 

The moment his eyes landed on you, he knew he was fucked. You had no right to look like that. You had always favored your comfy clothes even during party nights, typically going to pants and a cute top over wearing a dress. Until tonight. 

Bucky swallowed thickly, approaching the barstool you were seated at, his eyes trailing from your pretty heels, the delicate strap wrapping around your ankles, up to the soft glow of your legs, a light shimmer covering your body. The thigh high split of your dress made his cock jump, thinking about how easy it could be for him to slip his hands in between-

Fuck. 

The silky material of your dress wrapped perfectly around your body as he couldn’t tell if he wanted to fuck you with it on or torn off. He had to adjust himself for a moment, groaning at the tightness in his pants before making his way over to you.

“Hey pretty girl” Bucky murmured in your ear, kissing your beck from behind, his voice low as he gently moved to hold your waist, your back flush against his chest. “You look gorgeous angel” 

You melted into his touch, turning around to face him, biting your lip when he groaned, gripping you tighter. 

“I know I said I wanted to show you off doll but this-God damn, thank god I know how to fight” He breathed out a laugh, he had already caught a number of other party goers glancing over at you and it made him grin wider. Prettiest doll in the room and you were all his. 

“You should look at yourself Sergeant” Your voice got caught in your throat, the scent of his cologne already making you woozy. He was the most devilishly handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on but tonight? Tonight you were ready to-

“Lets go sit baby” He inturrupted your train of thought, helping you slip off the seat, the both of you making your way over to the lounge where everyone else sat together. You felt your cheeks warm up at the whistles that were directed towards you both. 

“So, you and y/n, huh?” Tony wiggled his eyebrows with a knowing smile while the rest of the team whooped; Bucky sat down at the end of one of the couches, pulling you to comfortably sit on his lap. 

“Mhm, shes my girl” Bucky gazed at you proudly, playing with a loose strand of your hair, finding himself unable to keep his hands off you. 

“Your girl, huh Barnes? You guys look good” Sam threw you a wink, grinning when he saw a blush covering Bucky’s cheeks. “Alright lover boy, I see you, blushin’ like a school boy” 

Bucky didn’t even bother arguing back, letting his hand rest on your thigh, giving in a gentle squeeze. You giggled, hoping he didn’t notice you felt like you were on fire, contemplating on sitting on your hands before you did something stupid. 

What Bucky didn’t know was you were 10 times more riled up than him the second you saw him. He was in all black, a look that left you swooning and soaked between your thighs. He left the scruff on his cheeks and it drove you wild. The silver chain of his dog tags peaked around the collar of his shirt. He noticed you squirming on his lap everyone else lost in conversation while you were struggling to keep your panties from soaking through your dress. 

“You okay doll? 

You nodded, shifting and pressing your face into his neck, though that only made you feel more feral, squeezing your thighs together. 

“What is it babydoll?”

“Bucky?” You whined into his neck, your hands coming down to grip at his shirt, “Let’s go baby” The desperation in your voice caught him off guard, blinking twice before responding. 

“How come doll?” He smiled softly, 

“Because...” You bit your lip while he urged you to continue. You had managed to contain yourself thus far but it was getting harder and harder and with the way he was looking tonight...fuck it. “Fuck, I’ll suck your cock right here Sergeant, you look so fucking good, I’ve already soaked my panties, you-you look so good, I’d ride you right now if I could”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide, you didn’t have to tell him twice. He wordlessly stood up, quickly waving everyone off before he grabbed your wrist, headed straight for the elevators and down the hall towards his room. 

Before he could say or do anything, you pulling your hand from his, moving to cup his cheeks, smashing your lips onto his. Bucky moaned into your mouth, still in shock from what you had said earlier, the both of you making out all the way until the back of his legs hit the bed. 

He couldn’t get any words how as you crawled on top of him, straddling his waist, the strap of your dress falling of your shoulder while you smirked down at him playfully. 

“Let me take are of you tonight solider” You trailed a finger down to his belt, making quick work of it as soon as he nodded, “Sit up” He let you pull him up as you shrugged his blazer off his shoulders, and pulled his shirt off, humming contently before you pushed him back on the bed. He lifted his hips up, helping you pull his pants and brief's off in one go, his cheeks flushed from the way you were biting your lip, he could practically smell how aroused you were. 

Who were you and what did you do to his sweet babygirl.

Not that he was complaining.

AT ALL. 

You moaned, looking at the way his cock jumped against his tummy, while you slipped your dress off, letting it pool around your feet. You stepped out of your panties before kneeling on the mattress between his legs, the tip of his cock silky with precum. 

“You’re cock is pretty” You shifted down, your nose nudging along his shaft, placing feather light kisses until you reached the tip, pulling away. Bucky bucked his hips up in frustration, biting his lip while you cooed, batting your lashes at him. “Look at that pretty pink tip baby, all wet and swollen” Your index finger circled over his slit making him cry out as you gathered his arousal, sucking it off your finger immediately after. “And you taste so good too soldier” 

You were the furthest thing from innocent, you were the devil with a halo and angel wings. 

“I wanna suck you Sergeant, thought about your fat cock down my throat, all night” You bent over to slip just the tip past your lips, gently suckling his cock head, while Bucky thrusted up chasing more of your mouth. He had to force his eyes open while you stuck your tongue out, your hand grasping his cock, dragging his tip all over your tongue, coating it in precum. 

“Oh-oh god” Bucky moaned, you’d sucked him before but never like this, never so filthy “What the fuck are you doing to me baby” 

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his meaty thighs, your shoulders urging them wider as you kissed down to his balls, humming at the salty taste of his skin and his soft natural scent that left you craving move. He whimpered at the feeling of your lips, his cock twitching. 

“Oh, you’re sensitive here baby” You cooed, flicking your tongue down the seam of his balls, nipping the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. “Tell your slut what you want Sergeant, I’ll be a good girl for you”

“Suck my balls, c’mon, put that mouth to use, get’em wet, put them in your mouth baby, they’re nice and full for you-FUCk” His back arched of the bed as you opened your mouth wide, taking both in your mouth, laving and sucking them. You moaned around his balls, while he took your hand and wrapped it around his aching length, guiding you to stroke him.  

“Feel that?” He gazed down at you, panting as he helped you jerk his cock, his head thrown back at the feeling of your soft hands, “You feel how hard my dick is? How thick and swollen is it for you baby? M’so fuckin’ hard and full of cum right now-shit” 

“Yesss, jerk my cock baby, keep using your mouth, play with my balls, feels good” He let go of your hand, bringing it down to card through your hair, pushing you further between his legs. His hips squirming, nearly grinding on your face while he continued to make a mess on his tummy, precum steadily dribbling from the tip. 

“You’re messy Sergeant” You cocked an eyebrow while Bucky smirked, pulling you up by your hair and giving it a few gentle tugs. 

“You make me messy you fucking slut, come here n’clean me up” He guided you down to his lower tummy, where you licked up his happy trail, not wasting a drop. “Yeah, lick it up baby, lick your Sergeant’s mess, you like that? You like getting your sergeant all needy and horny for you?”

You nodded, letting your tongue drag across his abs, your lips sucking off every bit of his silky cream. By now, your thighs were equally stick, your pussy screaming for some type of relief. You straddled him, rubbing the tip all over your clit while Bucky bit his lip, unsure how long he’d last with you on top. 

“Doll..doll what are you-

“M’gonna ride you now baby” You gave him a quick tug before lining him up with your pussy, his eyes growing wide. 

“I-I didn’t put a condom on yet baby-”

“Better hold it and pull out in time” You shrugged, sinking down onto his cock without warning, Bucky eyes rolling back, a deep moan dripping from his lips. 

“OH-Sh-shiiittt-” He could have sworn he had died and gone to heaven, he thought your pussy was perfect before but the raw feeling of your warm cunt was no match. He almost whined from pleasure, his balls tightening against his body. 

“You like feeling my pussy raw baby?” 

“Fuck yes, m’never using a condom with you again, fuck that shit, I’m putting my bare cock in you every chance I get” He groaned, his head thrown back against the pillow. 

“I forgot to tell you Sergeant, I forgot to take my birth control this morning” You gave him a faux innocent pout, rocking and winding your hips as you rode him, “But its too late now, you already put your bare cock in me” 

Okay, now he had died and gone to heaven. Or hell, cause you were nothing but pure sin in this moment. 

“You fucking dirty little slut, you wanted this huh, wanted to fuck you sergeant raw?”

“Wanted to make sergeant a daddy” You shot him a wink that made Bucky 10 times more feral. He planted his feet up, thrusting up into with abandon, all of his curses and moans bouncing off the walls. 

“Go a head then, make me a daddy” He pounded you with all his might as you collapsed into his hold. Bucky’s arms wrapped around your limp body, hugging you tightly to him while he railed you. 

“JAMESJAMESJAMES-I-”

“M’Gonna cum” Bucky moaned in your ear, fucking you faster” Take daddy’s fat fuckin’ load baby, be a good girl and make room for daddy”

“OH FUCK-” Your hands gripped onto his shoulders, your nails leaving crescent shaped intents. The sting just turned him on more. 

“I know, I know, such a tight pussy can’t handle it huh” He panted, chest heaving, body covered in a this sheen of sweat. You gathered yourself together, sitting up again and planting your hands on his chest, moving your hips to meet his thrusts. 

“Fuck, I wanna make daddy cum” You cried you, bouncing on him faster, nearly screaming when he brought his thumb to strum your clit. 

“You’re gonna make daddy blow his load baby, cum with me when you make me a fuckin’ daddy” 

You cried out as your walls started to spasm around him, clenching and squeezing around him. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off your perfect form, your boobs bouncing, face contorted with pleasure, your skin glistening from sweat as your rode him till he couldn't hold back anymore. 

“You’re gonna make daddy cum-fuck-ride me angel, just like that, bounce on my cock, yesyesfuckyes FUCCKKK” Bucky nearly roared, his cock bursting with cum, painting your cunt with his seed, his cream making a white mess all over his crotch as you continued to ride him through his high. “Good girl, good fucking girl angel, you made me cum so hard” 

“Did I go good Sergeant?” You whimpered, grinding down on his softening cock, while Bucky chuckled, too fucked out to open his eyes. 

“You did-you did amazing angel, c’mere” He pulled you own towards him, keeping his cock buried in you while you hummed contently, wrapping your arm around his waist with your head on his chest. 

“My girl is something else” Bucky panted, kissing your forehead while you giggled, back to your shy self, hiding in his hold. 

“Only for you, sergeant” 

Tags: @glxwingrxse  @hungryyeyess  @sebsgirl71479  @beabutterfly987  @teambarnes72  @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass  @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan  @buggy14  @whimsyplaty92  @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec   @pono-pura-vida   @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z  @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog  @happyt0exist   @emmabarnes  @bethyruth @matchat3a  @cjand10   @getwellsoontana  @cherryschaos   @lokisasgardianvampirequeen  @ashenc-blog  @buckybarnessimpp   @potatothots  @goldylions  @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog  @kingfleury   @peaches1958   @spiderman-stilinski   @peaceinourtime82  @gublur   @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46   @lolawassad  @almosttoopizza   @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess   @buckycallsmeaslut    @kamaria-sweet-writes  @charmedbysarge    @xnorthstar3x  @kryoee7 @alina02  @gh0stgurl    @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club  @eralen   @perdidosbucky-yyo  @clqrosmgc

[purple-babygirl]

One With Nature

Pairing: (dom)!Fae Lord!Bucky Barnes x (sub)!f!reader Word count: 1,850 Warnings: Supernatural elements, 18+ Content: mention of kidnapping, BDSM elements, being tied up, non-con/animal-assisted scene, nipple play, use of a pet name, use of sir and master, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cum play A/N: this is what happens when I wake up way too early on a Saturday. I'm sorry that my mind is messed up. Ily tho:"💜💜 ~

Felt horny, might delete later

But dom!fae lord!Bucky who is a crazy bastard. He’d kidnapped sweet, shy reader a while ago using a fae trap. He fucked her day and night into submission until she could barely remember anything of her previous life before him and his cock.

Soon, she has accepted that there was no way out for her. That fae lord controlled her and everything around her.

One day as he let her naked body lie on the soft grass, basking in the sunlight and the afterglow of 3 orgasms, she smiled dazedly and said “oh how nice it is to be part of nature.”

Any other fae lord would have been thrilled that she has accepted her new reality, that she was finally enjoying her place here, but not Bucky.

Oh, no, no, Bucky had much dirtier thoughts in mind, thoughts that made him harder than he’s ever been before.

Which brought her to the present.

He has her naked, her back against the largest tree in his forest as tendrils wrap tightly around her wrists and ankles, keeping her in place and stretching her wide open for him.

She looks at him with confused need in her eyes as the cool breeze hits her pussy and hardens her nipples.

If he wanted her, why didn’t he just take her privately like he usually does? Why in the middle of the forest where birds were flying around and squirrels were climbing up trees?

She knew they were just animals but she couldn’t help but feel dirty being exposed to their eyes, even if their gazes weren’t interested.

“You wanted to become part of nature, bunny.” Bucky answers her unspoken question with a smirk, “didn’t you?”

When she fails to answer, shocked and embarrassingly wet at how exposed she was, he slaps the inside of her soft thigh.

“I asked you a question, bunbun.” Bucky’s glare is hard despite the use of her petname.

“Yes, sir.” She nods, swallowing her nerves.

She never knew what to expect with this lunatic, but her body was excited regardless.

“Good, today I’m gonna teach you yet another lesson, bunny. It’s called ‘be careful what you wish for’.” His smirk widens as she swallows again.

Bucky waves his fingers in the air and three birds instantly show up in the air by his head, floating, awaiting their next orders.

Her heart sinks even though she doesn’t know what he intends to do with the birds, but she knew it was going to be something crazy, something she’s never experienced before.

Bucky walks closer, raising his hands in the air and the tendrils lift her body up higher against the tree.

She gasps, whining when her thighs are spread further apart.

Bucky’s hands cup her breasts, rubbing her nipples between his fingers.

Her eyes close as another needy gasp leaves her.

“What do you say when your master is teaching you a lesson, bunny?”

“Thank y-you.. thank you, sir.” She pants as Bucky’s hand slides to her core.

“Atta girl,” he praises, nuzzling her neck, feeling her pulse under his lips. “Already so wet for me, bunny. Is it that I have you helplessly open for me that makes your pussy drool?” he teases meanly, chuckling when she whines.

Bucky watches her face closely as he rubs her clit slowly, her mouth open as low moans escape her.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you bunny?” He slaps her pussy and she jumps up the tiniest bit, the tendrils holding her in place.

“As much as I like seeing you fall apart for me, I also enjoy watching you beg for it.” Bucky steps away from her.

“Please—”

He clicks his tongue, interrupting her begging with a smirk, “save your voice, bunny, you’re gonna need it.”

Bucky waves his hands again and the birds move towards her as if under mind control. Two birds float by her boobs and one between her legs.

Her heart races as she tries to close her legs, panicking at what Bucky could possibly have brought the birds for, “sir?”

Bucky laughs, his eyes darkening with messed up desire, “don’t worry, bunny. Nature wants to be close to you too.”

As soon as he finishes his sentence, the birds move closer to where she’s most sensitive.

She closes her eyes in anticipation and bites her lip, but then her whole body tenses up because she feels it.

3 blunt beaks are nudging her nipples and clit, repeatedly and in unison.

“Oh god!” Her surprised moan echoes through the forest, making Bucky chuckle.

She doesn’t know what to feel, her mind too clouded. She feels violated by those birds. Hell, she feels like she’s violating those birds.

She squirms but their beaks follow her sensitive nubs like a beacon. They keep pecking at her like a woodpecker would a tree, except it is just blunt beaks vibrating and nudging her most sensitive areas.

She’s trying not to enjoy it, and Bucky doesn’t like that very much.

He walks closer, his frown turning into a smirk as his hands delve between her legs. He holds her gaze as his thumb ever so gently pulls up the hood of her clit, leaving the aching button exposed to the bird’s beak.

A scream rips through her chest at the first peck, but then more nudges keep coming and she starts begging like a madwoman, her words turning into gibberish as her stomach clenches.

If someone had told her before that she would be nearing orgasm because a bird was pecking at her clit, she would have definitely called them insane, sick even.

And that’s exactly what fae!,Bucky was.

As he kept her torment going, his other hand palmed his unbelievably hard cock, pleasuring himself to her screams and pleas. Yet soon enough, his own touch wasn’t what he wanted.

Bucky lets her clit go and with a flick of his fingers, the birds retreat and fly away.

Her body sags slightly and her screams finally quiet down. She doesn’t realize she’s been crying until Bucky’s thumb touches her cheeks.

“What is it, bunbun? Couldn’t handle nature?” He teases with a smirk, his strong hands lifting her thighs to wrap around his waist.

“Please,” she whispers weakly and Bucky knows exactly what she’s begging for.

Holding his hard cock in hand, he swipes the leaking tip up and down her pussy, “cry about it all you want, bunny, but your body doesn’t lie.”

She shivers, her eyes closing as his cock teases her cunt.

“My pussy doesn’t lie,” Bucky groans as he pushes in.

She screams a moan as Bucky bottoms out in one thrust, his girth stretching her deliciously.

Bucky stays still and buries his nose in her neck. He presses the softest kisses to her skin as if he doesn’t have her impaled on his cock in the middle of the forest.

His fingers soon find her nipples and start plucking teasingly.

She throws her head back and before any of them can realize it, she’s cumming on his unmoving cock.

Bucky almost loses his balance as she quivers and clenches around him, his hand leaning on the tree behind her, “fuck, bunny.”

He groans, his blunt nails meanly keeping the torture going on her sensitive nipples until he’s milked her orgasm out of her.

She sags against him yet again, panting as tremors of pleasure ripple through her body.

Bucky holds her close, pressing his smirking lips to her shoulder.

She just had an orgasm merely from having her nipples stimulated. He has never made her do that before but it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last time.

“Oh sweet bunny,” Bucky kisses up the side of her neck, “my sensitive, responsive, helpless bunny.”

He pulls his face away from the crook of her neck and looks at her, “open your eyes, bunbun.”

She obeys, and as soon as her glossy gaze meets his, Bucky grinds his cock inside of her.

The moan she lets out is music to his ears and the way her back arches makes him lose control.

He pulls his cock out before quickly sheathing himself whole inside of her again. He gives her his cock again and again until she’s a babbling mess once more.

Bucky likes her like this, screaming in pleasure she was made to take as he pushes her body to its limits, turning into a possessed soul on his cock.

His fingers find her puffy clit and she gasps, trying to squirm as she begged him not to.

Bucky only smirks before his fingers start thrumming her abused pearl, his cock driving deep inside of her, nudging her spongy spot repeatedly.

Her mouth opens and her eyes roll back as she gushes all over Bucky’s cock, her release dripping down onto the crunchy autumn leaves beneath their feet.

“Look at you squirting for me in the middle of the forest, bunny. Shameless.” Bucky keeps fucking her through it until her body can’t shake anymore and her forehead fall to his shoulder.

“Good bunny, so good for me,” Bucky growls in her ear as he fucks her harder, “gonna fill you up so good, you’d feel me in that sweet pussy for days.”

Her tired body is still thrumming with pleasure when she feels the first spurt of Bucky’s hot cum filling her up and she whines.

“Take it, bunbun. Take your master’s cum,” Bucky groans as he keeps filling her up.

When he finally pulls his cock out of her, he groans at the sight of her puffy, well-fucked pussy dripping of his cum.

He collects the leaking cum and pushes it back into her pussy, making her whine.

Bucky chuckles, “come on now, bunny, can’t waste a drop.”

He pushes his fingers deeper and starts fingering his cum into her, not stopping until she was screaming the last of her voice and cumming for him again.

She’s too out of it when the tendrils let her limbs go, falling into Bucky’s arms.

He carries her with a smile, kissing her temple, “you were such a good girl for me today, bunny.”

Bucky lets her close her eyes and drift off. He takes her home and cleans her up, dressing her into a soft, silky nightgown, and of course, no underwear.

When she finally opens her eyes, she’s met with his handsome smile and cannot help but give a shy one of her own.

“How are you feeling, little bunny? Are you okay?” He asks as his large hand caresses down her back as he kisses her forehead.

“Yes, sir.” Her voice is hoarse from screaming and it makes Bucky smile wider.

“You did so good for me today, bunbun. I’m proud of you.” Bucky kisses her lips softly.

She’s too lost in the kiss to notice his hand sneaking under her nightgown to her bare butt.

She gasps against his lips when his index massages up and down her tightest hole.

“But you better have learned to be careful what you wish for or I’ll have my squirrels plugging this ass with acorns next.”

I'm sorry I-

~

Tag list: @harrysthiccthighss @tinystudentfirepurse @lavendercitizen @tumblin-theworldaway @pretty-pop-princess-hs @lilymurphy03 @idontwannagomrstarkk @glxwingrxse @littlelioncub43 @mathletemadison @canned-rootbear @pandaxnienke @loveisallyouneed1125 @floral-recs @littlemoonkiller @hallecarey1 @vespasianphantom @vicmc624 @winters1917 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @blkmystery @millercontracting @trappedwriter @am-3-thyst @obsessedwithquinn @sydnielauryn @alittlerayof-pitchblack @olipiaa @peterparkersgirl-blog @buckybarnessweetheart @thealyrs @colorfulbluebirdpainter @stuckysgirl27 @ihavetwoholesforareason @princess-bee0 @pastel-noah168 @steeph-aniie @buckitostan @onthr-dream @sapphirebarnes @123iloveyou456 @ciaqui @lindasweetie @justherefortheficandsmut @xxdiaqiaoxx @morgthemagpie @wintrsoldrluvr @goldylions @serendipitouslife90 @sebastians-love @leelee1234love @tiedyedghoulette @saint-marvel @helenaellie @onceithough @raynelbabe @a-very-fictional-girl @justabeluga @lindababe69

[plasticfangtastic]

Dairy Girl-- Part 3

A Homelander x F!Reader fic

A/N: 1more part to go, I've be going on a 4 day trip on wed so I should post the final part next wk, thanks everybody for reading here is part 2 (there's a link for part 1 there)

Synopsis: In order to provide a constant supply of fresh breastmilk for Vought’s number one hero, Vought has had to get quite nifty in order to prevent this secret desire out the press and the public– you have unfortunately discovered the truth.

tags: child death mention, depressive, dark, kidnapping, stocklhom syndrome, HL tw.

word count: 4.4K

Part 3-- Fields

Months.

You’ve been here for months.

You aren’t quite certain of the timeframe but you kept track of the full moon, how often things faded and re-emerged, you’re sure half a year of your life has vanished slower than ever before, for weeks you find yourself holding on, now you aren’t sure why? This body of yours grows heavier around his arms as you sat there in that massive corner booth listening, as he squeezed your jacket as if to remind you he had a hold on you… or to make sure you were okay, you hoped.

Several months have passed and you can’t help but wonder how you ended up in this Chinese restaurant having dinner with your captor.

Homelander’s visitation continued to be more sporadic, your time seems of less importance these days, you find yourself painfully alone, no matter how pretty the tapestry, how interesting the films have become, how delicious the food is or how the forced expansion of your music taste as they feed you an eclectic collection from japanese city pop to medieval folk rock albums changed the fact that you were alone. It had been endless weeks since you last saw a human being beside Homelander.

You stared at that steel door, its presence tempting you, mocking you, insulting you.

You pressed aimlessly at the panel hoping it would break or force somebody to emerge to tell you off– just the sound of a live human would be enough to fill this emptiness inside you even if it was for a short burst. The library elevator had been locked and no amount of pulling would get it to break, your voice, your sole company, birds would come and sing ‘hello’ but as pretty as they were they flew away at the sight of you.

Everything was perpetually quiet.

At least when the sun still lingered.

At night you couldn’t even sleep this awfulness off, your brain trapped you in a different nightmare.

The only time when this house wasn’t submerged in silence was in your slumber.

Ghost lived here you’ve come to accept.

“Every night I have the same nightmares” you spoke to a squirrel one morning

Cries of a baby you can never find, as you wake up, dazed and exhausted you hear the faintest cry and all your mind has tried to do these past few weeks and months have been to move on but ghostly cries forever remind you of the emptiness left in your arms, ghost hoping to crush everything within you, but when the sun is out you tell yourself that your baby boy is gone, you accept it. 

Every night before bed you recite a fresh mantra ‘you’re okay now, that in the future perhaps you could finally become a mother, that the embers still burn inside you, your love is there but is not wrong to move on’ but your nightmares won’t let you move on from a pain you couldn’t forget.

You pray to whatever god you believed, or used to believe for dreamless slumber, each night the thought of sleep frightens you, making you wish for death for it was kinder.

The only peaceful slumber comes with a blond catch.

In your arms he’s both small and larger than life, light and heavy, his lips pursed on your sensitive skin, his quiet moans and mewls send shivers down your spine yet bring you an animalistic primal comfort that tap in a primitive part of your motherly brain, his scent fades and returns the next time reeking of oatmeal and chamomile, as your nose sinks on his hair and he wraps his naked hand around your waist itching to crawl higher, to hold your breast much like a real baby would you forget he is grown, picking his fingers and letting them hang on your own, in this times were you drift away from boredom– you sleep peacefully. Wondering if there was safety in this? The world’s most powerful man held against your bosom, nothing could hurt you here– not even the nightmares. Afraid of him you supposed.

Homelander looks up with glassed eyes, licking his lips as he pops your nipple out his mouth, blissed out, so happy it colors you with envy– that’s the only smile you know it's 100% genuine, you seen all his earlier movies it certainly been refined but his smile is disturbingly faux… convincingly sold, nevertheless as he nuzzles you and giggles softly into your chest that you learn what his truly looked like.

When was the last time you smiled like that? You wondered.

You hand caressed his face cleaning a loose drop off his chin.

“You want me to stay tonite?”

It’s been almost 2 weeks since he stayed more than a couple hours, you don’t know what to say, he still fills you with fear but as the afternoon glow colors the tapestry and the night creeps closer and closer you want that safety… just one night without nightmares.

“Please stay…”

Homelander smiles and squeezes your sides, forcing you into a hug, he begins talking and is not a conversation you can follow or wished to but is music nowadays– the sound of another person, it's the sweetest music you’d ever listened to, searing banalities into your eardrums, but its sweet… something to make you forget that by morning he’d be gone and you be left alone with nothing but ghosts and thoughts.

“Can we switch positions?” Your arm has grown numb under him.

He grumbles pouting like a child, but he’s happy to oblige, the TV plays quietly in the background you’re unsure how much longer the tape has, but he stares at you as he sits straight waiting for further instruction, while you fix the pillows.

“I just want to be the little spoon…”

Homelander eyes light up–literally. It doesn’t last long and his lips curl dropping on the bed with eager eyes, your grimace is internal but you crawl into padded arms.

“Promise me you won’t leave in the middle of the night…” you say so quietly, he stares at those pretty eyes of yours and those thick dark circles under your eyes allowing himself to caress your cheek– until morning…”

“Ryan is off on a camping trip with one of his buddies… I can stay the whole weekend.”

“Weekend?”

“It’s friday, Y/N.” He says as if that was obvious.

Your eyes open so wide it hurts your face, but you nod furiously, a part of you dies, whatever self-respect you had is fading as the only thought consuming you is that for at least 2 days you’ll have company.

“I’m surprised you let him go”

“I have a few men watching him from a distance, and I can fly and check up on him at any point” he says through gritted teeth.

“It’s nice that you trust him. Must make him feel like a big kid… My parents never let me do such things…”

“Why not?” He asks, watching you with genuine surprise as your body loses resistance, sinking into him.

“They worried too much… always sheltering me… watching over me…” You missed them, you missed a world of people, now those obnoxious actions of the past warm your heart but you don’t let it be seen– He’s lucky to have you.”

You stayed in his arms until the credits finished rolling.

“Kill the feed!” Homelander shouts startlingly you stiff, he waits in silence grinding his teeth, jumping out of the bed almsot throwing you off the mattress, once his cape unfastened he turns back to you– what? you think i'm gonna lay down all night in this?”

You just watched him as he moved around your room entering your closet as you shook off the scare, and procuring an oversized t-shirt grumbling to himself about ordering some loungewear, you watched him undress with your heart creeping up your throat, squeezing the duvet as your worst nightmares tease an entrance to reality, with each thud of his suit and clanking of gold your heart rate doubled in speed, he who had very much avoided touching most of you, could very much do so and you’d be powerless to stop him, he turns around throwing you a look of disbelief making you wonder if ‘mind-reading’ was a unpublicized skill of his.

Without his suit… he seemed more human than he had any right to be, his bright orange undies peeking under the old t-shirt with a pulled neck allowing you to see a handful of chest hairs creeping up, Homelander left you in the room heading out, his eyes examining that all cameras were in fact turn off and so were the microphones, stopping by a tacky painting of kittens in the hallway, tapping on the thick frame carefully.

“I was thinking I should have this place redecorated” He said loudly, his hand stroking the frame– bring it into the 21st century… What do you like– farmhouse chic… art deco? Altho your house was a mix-match of things.”

You jumped off the bed and followed him keeping distance as you tried to suppress your trembling hands.

“You’ve been to my house?”

“I was curious about you… you’ve been here 5 months and the doctors are surprised you haven’t… lost your mind.” He turns to you– altho you’ve been playing the music twice as loud as before”

“Is lonely in here…” You look away trying to figure out the best words you ought to say– you haven’t visited me in weeks”

“I told you. I’m busy– I have a movie… we are doing some re-shoots… the studio feels like they need a new direction and we needed a new post-credit scene so it ties up with The Deep’s next film and–” he bites his tongue– I should call… I’ll have a phone installed… but what can I do to make your stay here less lonesome.``

“Keep me company… at least downstairs I could see the other girls…” You look down– are they okay?”

“That whole thing has been shut down. No need for it to continue if I have you.” 

He didn’t expect to see that beam of light in your eyes, but then those lips of yours straightened for something sinister came into your mind.

“What happened to them?” Faces that were still fresh in your mind spoil– are they okay?”

“Who knows…” he shrugs with genuine indifference– oh don’t make that look! I didn’t make the order, I simply told them to close shop… I can find out if you want.”

Staring into his eyes for what could’ve been an eternity but you never answered, which seemed to please him, he stretched his hand asking for yours and in that darkened hallway he seemed to be its only shadow, you obeyed afraid of displeasing him punished with abandonment for another endless loop, his fingers are always so warm and soft around yours. 

“You don’t sleep very much do you? I used to sleep a lot when they left me alone… which wasn’t often” He squeezes your hand pulling you closer– you can talk to me, Y/N. I want to know…”

“You’ve been to my home… you should know why I don’t sleep much…” 

“I can’t… imagine what you’ve been thru… If I lost Ryan–”

“I accepted it. I think it just wasn’t my time or his time…” You cut him off– I don’t know ‘bout God’s plan or nuthin but I just accepted that maybe one day it be for me but not yet.”

Homelander gave you a half moon, glad to see how strong you’ve been, glad to know you could withstand his abuse… you continued to be a challenge.

That night you both laid in bed, cradling him in your arms watching him mumble loudly in his sleep, his eyes shifting wildly, you watch him fight in his nightmare as you thought of your own… of those women and the bottles, how your signatured had doomed them, you bit your lips and watched him until exhaustion ate you up.

Waking up with a kiss from the sun without ever experiencing a single nightmare, not even their faces haunt your sleep.

It made you ill to be so relieved.

He kept you company, watching movies and eating popcorn, lounging around forcing you to read books to him, you thought that this would all you two would do-- just lounge around and pretend you weren’t growing bored.

“Wanna go out for dinner?” 

Your ears perked up.

“I’ll go and tell them to get us some clothes, and we can go have dinner.”

“You mean outside?”

“Of course silly… you’ve been good, I think you deserve it.” He jumps off the couch, heading towards the metal door dragging his feet– you like chinese. I saw you had lots of take-out menus.”

“I would love to” You ran after him, hugging him– can we get Ice-cream too… afterwards?”

“I could always go for a milkshake.” He kissed your cheek– be a good girl and go get ready would ya?”

He faded into the other side, hearing those metal doors slide open filled you with joy, you had your chance, you were good, you did all that Homelander wanted of you, you listened to his endless ramblings and you gave him what he stole you for without complaint, and now he rewarded you, the gods had finally heard you.

This was your chance.

You would run to the cops, you would hide in the sewers, you would run until your feet were stumps if you had to but you would get out of here, away from him, away from his dollhouse.

You were so focused you didn't even register his sudden kiss until you started to undress in the bathroom, you touched your cheek wondering about why he'd done so.

You did as you were told and as your hair dried he came back bearing clothes from this century entering the bedroom as you stood covered with nothing but a towel, he came in an orange t-shirt and a navy jacket his sight on your face as if he had manners. It took you a few seconds to realize these were your clothes, washed and ironed, he threw them in the bed lingering for a few seconds before returning you some privacy.

“You look good” You smile feeling weird in your own clothes, nothing but a band t-shirt and your best jeans, he handed you a jacket that was definitely not yours but a matching one to his own– they told me there’s this bar you liked quite a bit”

“The Loose End?” you smiled, they knew you there, the bartender knew you by name, the regular waitress Liz knew you too, if he took you there you could find a way out– they’re cheap and the nachos are great… and they have live music every weekend.”

“It’s a date then.” 

For the first time you crossed those steel doors, those wall held a boring room, a set of desk littered here and there alongside filing cabinets, a young man in a lab coat handed Homelander something while you looked around everywhere this whole setup was nothing but a repurposed kitchen, a storage close, and the entry hall, two large windows let the light in allowing you to see the driveway, and more evergreen forest, there were no houses just road and bushes indeed this location was as desolated as initially suspected. Leaving through the front door you spotted a pair of bikes parked on the side, while the garage was closed. A random man dragged a trolley filled with peonies, your feet were trembling as you stepped on that welcome mat, the air was so chilly against your skin, so refreshing on cracking lips.

Grass… trees… clouds… nowhere to run, you looked at the bikes but never did you look for their keys five seconds ago.

“Are we getting an Uber?” You looked at him.

He took you by the waist, not giving you an answer before jumping straight into the heavens, there was a town to the east, a highway near it, before your words could leave your body, he pressed your face against his shoulder, it's a whistling sound singing in your ear as an insanely heavy weighted blanket slammed against you, this song kept playing cut abruptly by honking, your feet hit the ground and you could’ve sworn you’ve died he lets go of your head messin with your hair as you parted from this tight embrace, looking bemused.

“Am I alive?”

“There’s not a safer vehicle in the world than me.” He chuckles– you’re fine.”

Blinking hard you looked around and immediately recognized the street peeking from the end of the alleyway, your old apartment was 20 minutes from this place, you started moving without him.

Your neck snapped back as he took your arm, forcing you still.

“The restaurant is that way.”

He held your arm so tight your fingers tingle from numbness, interlocking elbows as he forced you into the street, to passerbys you were just another nameless couple, nobody gave you guys a second look, the afternoon light was beginning to fade behind tall buildings, you look at strangers pleading for them to notice something was off only to meet discomfort and indifference, people minded their business and in the busy street you two failed to stand out, you knew every street and in your silence you hoped to see familiar faces but nothing but strangers surrounded you both.

Both stopping at the entrance of a chinese restaurant, you’re sure you’d ordered from here before, the place is loud and there’s a TV set on the sports channel, it smells of fried rice and oil and you can hear the cook shouting in cantonese, he never lets you speak and the waitress is too busy talking to her coworker to care just telling you to sit anywhere you like.

He sits you in a booth on the corner away from the window almost hidden but able to see a good chunk of the people, the tv plays in the back but you can’t see it, your face is obscured by a beam, the more you look at the decour it strikes you as cheap and busy, lights dim and there wasn’t many people inside no doubt he picked this place for a reason.

“I feel like egg rolls and sweet and sour pork… you want noodles or rice?”

“Rice… with chicken… and…” You glance at the menu– scallion pancakes…”

Time moves like a dream, you count the exits, the number of waitresses, you hear the phone used for take-out orders but from your spot you can’t see the phone, you see the paper sign saying ‘toilet’ which could lead to an unseen exit, maybe into the kitchen, but as the entree arrived you knew you couldn’t run to your old home, you could run to the nearest metro station take the train anywhere, the direction made no difference you just had to find a cop… anything to save you.

As you force yourself to chew it dawns on you how Homelander has not spoken, turning to see him and he has a dry smile in his lips, his sight focused on the table on the furthest end of the room, the party grew louder you assumed they caught his attention annoyed by their presence or something in that vein.

Dishware clank and people spoke and baseball played but his attention was on them alone, you swore you could’ve run and he wouldn’t notice.

“Are you okay?” You spoke with the meekest tone you could muster– is there something wrong with the food?”

He scoots in his seat moving closer to the edge of table, this boot could’ve sat a party of five with ease so he left you with a lot of space and for a moment you felt as if he was about to just walk out but instead he looked at the empty spot then jerked his head towards the direction of the party.

“Is there a friend of yours there…?” You try to remain bubbly, finding his demeanor uneasy.

Following him you take his former spot but he doesn’t leave the boot, and then you see it.

The big thing he was staring at.

She was so thin that it looked bigger than it should, she was a tiny frail thing and the bump protruded out of her stomach violently. She sat back down, her grin so big and her laugh so chirpy as she rejoined the group.

The group too engrossed in each other to notice… to notice the crying woman on the other side of the dimly lit restaurant.

He seemed the same, his hair was the same, his beard was the same, his shirt was the one you bought him last christmas and he looked… happy… happy as he kissed this woman you’ve never seen, holding her hand, caressing her stomach, she didn’t need a name for you to despise what she meant, there it was your ex-husband who shouted at you about not being ready to be a father, your ex who showed up late to the funeral and didn’t stick around to comfort you, who never made it to the hospital visits more than twice, here he was happy.

Looking at a young thing carrying the baby he did want.

Just like he never looked at you.

“Am so happy you’re having a little girl!” The older woman who sat across from him said– after everything that happened I'm just elated for you Eric.”

You heard your mother’s voice with so much clarity.

“After Y/N I never thought I would find somebody but I think she would’ve been happy for us. I’m just glad you guys are doing okay after everything…”

“It’s hard but you are still family and we can be happy for you and your sweet little girl”

You watched him comfort your mother, the way he talked about you as if he meant it.

When did he ever mean it? Did he find remorse in his heart after you were gone or was it to brush away the accusations.

‘Who would you run to?’ that voice in your head asked, your family was right there, your dad, your mom, a mutual friend of you both, your ex– they were all there but they didn’t see you, the more you focused on their words, the way they mentioned your name as if it made them feel icky.

“I was thinking of naming her after Y/N, I know she meant a lot to Eric and had we not met at that support group–

You ran off the booth, rushing to the bathroom, you’re sure somebody looked at you as the plates rattled, Homelander gave you a glance but didn’t follow you.

Slamming the door behind you, in that ugly cramped bathroom you screamed into your knees, every fiber of your body recoiled, tightening around your chest, you stayed there until your own sobs hurt your throat and your eyes itched from salt.

Staring at your swollen eyes and red nose you washed away what you could, nausea still lingered robbing you off your appetite.

The door opened and there was no red, white and blue suited supe, just a hall with faded pictures and a storage closet, walking not knowing what to find, not wanting to be seen.

He was still in the booth, happily waiting on you with a bag of leftovers propped on the table.

“Let’s go home…” You whispered, your throat hoarse.

“Home? Where is that?” he grins

“Home… take me home… please…”

He stares at the party who are now sharing their final drinks and readying to leave.

You sit on the edge pushing him into the booth, forcing him to pay attention to you and not those behind, maybe it was because he was Homelander that you kissed him, that you had the attention of a more enviable man than Eric ever was that you kissed him in front of him  and your family, maybe it was because it felt good, his thin lips soft and delicate against yours, it was  quick thing, his shock was palpable in the nervousness of his kiss was cute, but it felt good… for once something felt good again.

“Let’s go Homelander… I don’t wanna be here anymore…”

His lips pressed against your cheek before lifting himself, making sure to cover your sight as you both left the building turning away from the window as the party began to gather their things, he stopped for a second after walking for a few minutes.

“I just need to text Ashley something before I forget… work stuff” You didn’t care.

He typed slowly with his index instead of his thumbs which made you cringe a little.

“All good. You sure you don’t wanna go watch a gig, we don’t have to go back home.” He said softly.

“My tits hurt.” His eyes light up at the lie– unless you wanna have a sippy in the toilets before the show stars to help me out here”

“... I… I do…” 

If he blushed any harder he’d be a stop light, you smiled unable to stop chuckling at his stupid face.

“Didn’t peg you for the kind of guy to get freaky in the bathroom of a dingy bar… guess America’s son does have a real kinky side to him.”

“You have no idea darling… do you have a kinky side perhaps?”

“Fuck me.” Her stomach popped into your head, his hand caressing her bulge played on loop, his disgusting smile, all of him played all around you, memories of his touch burnt your skin, everybody had his disgusting mug on their faces– and find out.”

He took your hand and started walking faster, throwing away the bag of takeout into the lap of the first homeless person he’d seen.

The woman looked at Eric as he said goodbye to your parents, her phone buzzed, turning around to hide her screen, a text message from with a receipt for 25,000 dollars deposited on her account, as well as a doctor’s appointment booking.

She signed with relief.

“Understood.” she texted back.

[amuyyi]

venus .

synopsis; you're going on your third year of university, and your friend kazuha invites you to an end of the year ball. parties have never been your thing, but for her? youll make an exception.

trope; non-idol!kazuha x f!reader, friends to lovers, fluff, suggestive, kinda smut? ball/fancy party ! university au!

wc; 6.3k

cw; kinda suggestive, kinda smut? cursing.

a/n; i decided to try writing something suggestive for the first time and next thing u know im 6k words in and i started going thru burnout near the middle/end >< apologies, just wanted to get one last fic out before i disappear to china for 2 weeks!

Your eyebrows knit together with immense concentration as your eyes shift between the notebook on the picnic table and your laptop propped up in front of it, your hand gripping your pen with an unbreakable grip. It was a wonderful day out on the university campus quad, with perfectly warm but not too hot temperatures and a light breeze, and you decided to take advantage of the perfect study environment to finish up the last homework assignments you had. You could see people from the corner of your vision, some were walking with friends, others lounging within hammocks they propped up between trees, you could even spot a group of boys playing pickleball. There were squirrels either digging within the dirt or rummaging through nearby trash cans, and birds singing from the trees. These were perfect conditions to allow for optimum problem solving. You look back at your work. Now, if you just had the correct formula and numbers, the answer should be…

“y/n!”

Before you could even process who had ripped your focus away from solving your chemistry homework, a colorful piece of paper was shoved directly into your face. With the way it was aggressively being waved around and how close it was, you could already tell who the concentration-culprit was.

“Kazuha, what am I looking at?” You ask aloofly, trying to move your head away so you could actually read the parchment. As you make your futile attempts, you catch a quick glimpse of the Japanese girl, seeing that she's made her way to sit on top of the picnic table instead of on the actual very much open seat with her long legs crossed as she beams at you.

“Can’t you read it?” Her voice was sweet and upbeat, as if the answer she was expecting was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Not when you have it literally 2 inches from my face and you won’t stop shaking.”

You can see Kazuha roll her eyes playfully as she pulls the parchment away, placing it on top of your notebook to allow a proper view of its contents. “It's a ball!” You hear Kazuha say excitedly as you skim over the information on the page, “The university’s hosting it as a sort of end of the year celebration. It's gonna be at this fancy castle place that rich white people used to hold masquerades and all that kind of stuff at back then.”

“No.” Your response was almost instantaneous, and you can immediately see Kazuha’s face turn into a frown and then a pout as she whines, leaning forward above your laptop screen, “Whaaaatt? Why not?”

You cross your arms and shrug, shifting your gaze over to the other students enjoying the weather as you speak, “Parties just aren’t my thing, Zuha. They’re loud and cramped, and more often than not I somehow always end up alone.” The way you spoke would’ve sounded quite pitiful if you weren't so firm with your words. What you said wasn’t some opportunity to gain pity from your friend, it was merely fact. Whenever you went to any sort of party or dance with your various groups of friends throughout the years, sooner or later they would break into their own little mini groups, and you were left floating amongst their conversations, left out. You simply didn’t want to relive that experience again with your current college friend group.

Kazuhas frown deepens as she closes your laptop, crawling closer to you from the top of the picnic table as she puts on her best puppy eyes, “come onnnn… Please? The girls already bought tickets, and it's almost our last year of uni! ” She begs, and you try your best to mask the smile that's threatening to form from the corner of her mouth as you repeat your answer, “no.”

She inches closer to you, grabbing you by the shoulders as she lightly shakes your body back and forth, as if that would help get her words from her mouth into your brain and into your heart. “It won't be the same without you!! Yunjin and Chaewon will likely end up hardcore drinking the whole night together, and Sakura is gonna be babysitting Eunchae the whole time!!! You’re the only person I’d genuinely want to spend all night with. I haven’t even bought my tickets yet because I’ll only go if you go!! ” You bite back laughter as she continues to whine, words spilling out of her mouth at rapid speed.

“It’ll be just like prom!”

“I didn’t go to prom.”

“Exactly!”

Hiding your grin was starting to become pretty difficult. Frankly, it felt nice to be wanted. Especially by Kazuha. She's always been so kind to you ever since freshman year, and has always tried her best to include you in social events with her friends. Even so, despite her quite literally saying she wants you there you still can't shake off the feeling that you’d end up alone just like always. You look back at Kazuha and see her desperately trying to win you over, her eyes almost sparkling with a cartoonish glint as she frowns… Still, you’d hate to be the reason why the other girl doesn’t go to an event she is so explicitly excited for.

Letting out a defeated sigh, you rub your temples as you give in, “Fine, I’ll go.”

You watch as Kazuha immediately lights up at your response, pulling you into an all too tight hug as she gleams, “Yes!!! You’re the best!”

“But! Only on one condition,” You pull yourself away from Kazuha and stick up your index finger in her face, forcing her back as she looks you in the eyes, nodding to indicate she was all ears. “You won’t leave me alone.”

The taller girl rolls her eyes as she scoffs, swatting your finger away dismissively as she speaks, “That was already part of the plan, silly. You wont leave my sight the entire night.” The gives your nose a light tap with her finger as your face scrunches up, not appreciating the gesture before shaking your head, beginning to shoo her off the table and onto her feet.

“Okay, okay. Now go away, I need to finish my work.” You allow yourself to smile fully this time, unable to truly keep up the cold and dismissive persona as she winks at you, “Meet me at my place on friday, we’re gonna go dress shopping!” You watch as she spins on her heel and merrily walks down the quad, chuckling at the sight before you return to your work.

…Did she turn off your homework program when closing your laptop?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Soon enough, Friday had come and you swiftly made your way to the front of Kazuha’s apartment. You had decided to wear a simple white tank top and skirt paired with a bolero top to make changing a quick and efficient process. In all honesty, you were both a little bit excited for this experience but also dreading it for multiple reasons. On one hand, you really didn’t want to go to this ball. The idea of a majority of the university being put into a castle where you could easily get lost and lose sight of your friends was not an ideal situation. On the other hand though, Kazuha did promise you that you wouldn’t be alone this time. The idea of her having all of her attention on you throughout the night didnt sound all too bad…Plus, you did enjoy dressing up and feeling pretty. You sigh as you quickly send Kazuha a text.

Y/n [14:05] – Here.

Zuha [14:05] – come in ^w^ im still getting ready

You laugh a little to yourself at the text, Kazuha was always so punctual until it came to you. You didn’t take any offense to it though, you soon learned over the years that it was a sign that she felt comfortable to take her time with you.

You open the door and you’re greeted with a welcoming living room, ambient light illuminating the sight as you take it in. Kazuha most definitely pays a fortune in rent for this place, the walls lined with large bookcases and a generously sized couch pressed up against the wall. The interior of the apartment was various shades of gray and white, yet somehow still managed to exude a comforting warmth despite the cooler tone. There were blankets and pillows scattered charmingly on the couch and the bookshelves not only held actual books, but also little trinkets of all kinds, including rocks, figurines, and origami figures. The kitchen table had a bowl of fruit freshly put out, and you take notice of a pair of ballet shoes placed next to the door. There have been many nights spent here with the other girls before, whether it be movie nights or drinking, and you can appreciate Kazuha in keeping the space clean for your arrival.

You immediately make your way to the couch, the plush fabric giving into your weight as you get comfortable. A few minutes of aimless scrolling on your phone pass before Kazuha emerges from the nearby hallway, her long black hair ruffled in an intentional way as she wore a black tank top and jeans with a matching jean jacket that slightly slipped off her shoulders, exposing them. You find yourself staring a little longer than usual, taking in the sight before you. Of course, Kazuha was always beautiful— all of your friends were, but something about her outfit and hair and light makeup she put the effort into doing for a simple girls day out with you made your throat unexpectedly run dry.

In all honesty, ever since you first met Kazuha you have always thought she was incredibly attractive, and her kindness and bright personality that came out as you two got closer made her even more desirable; but the idea of ruining the first friend you made in college with a dumb crush immediately steered you away from making any moves beyond platonic. Most of the time you can forget that you even felt anything towards her in the first place, with schoolwork often taking up most of your brainspace— but not this time, apparently. You try to not let your eyes linger on her for too long before she speaks up.

“You ready?” She asks, snapping you out of your trance as she smiles, twirling her car keys along her index finger. You get up from your seat, clearing your mind from your previous intrusive thoughts as you nod, following her out of the apartment and into her car.

The ride to the boutique was enough to completely make you forget about whatever ideas you had before, the pair of you singing all kinds of songs as the world seems to pass you two by on the road. Kazuha had an impressive roster of j-pop music queued up for the ride, and you found yourself silently admiring her as she loudly sang the lyrics out the window as she drove, giving the sky a performance that could never be replicated.

You always seem to forget that the girl was practically born for the arts— from dancing to singing or just general charm, Kazuha was a perfect candidate to become a celebrity or the other. She was beyond good at what she did. It was only reasonable for her to pursue a performing arts major, and you were certain that after graduation you’d see her on the big screen, dancing and singing for the whole world to see. You could only hope that out of everyone in the world who would listen, she’d still find you. You try to follow along with her singing, but you don't know even a fraction of Japanese, and Kazuha can't help but laugh at your efforts. Smiling, you look out the window to try and hide your blush.

Once the two of you arrive at the boutique off campus, Kazuha was quick to drag you towards the wide variety of dresses lined up on the walls, “so… what kind of dress are you thinking?” She asks excitedly, already rummaging through dresses while constantly looking between you and the rack, “I think you should go for something that's gonna enunciate your curves, you got a hot bod.” The comment was so lighthearted and so painfully platonic, yet it still made your cheeks warm. You can’t be feeling these things right now. You dismissively wave your hand as you respond, “don't tease me, Zuha.. besides, aren't you supposed to be looking for dresses for yourself?”

The taller girl furrows her brows as she grabs your forearm, giving it a firm squeeze, “I’m being serious y/n, you’re crazy hot. Give yourself some more credit!” She shifts her attention back to the dresses and her eyes catch sight of a bundle of blue fabric, pulling it off the rack she shoves it into your arms and guides you to the dressing room, “try this on, I’m gonna find some more dresses for you!!”

You were left dumbfounded by Kazuhas words within the changing room for a moment before you pat your cheeks, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand before trying on the dress. The way she spoke to you felt way too much like a girl talking to another one of her “girl friends” and it made your stomach churn, but you repressed the feelings as you slipped on the blue fabric. It took a bit of effort, but after fighting the tightness you were able to get the dress on. It definitely hugged your body well, being a bodycon style and all, but you felt like a ball at a castle calls for a more dramatic and elegant look.

You step out of the changing room, looking around for your friend as she quickly shuffles her way back, her face partially masked by the comically tall tower of clothing she carried within her hands. Her eyes scanned you from top to bottom, eyebrows raised as she takes in your appearance, smirking a little at how shy you become. “I… don't think this one is good for the ball, it kinda feels like I’m going to the bar?” You sheepishly comment, suddenly shrinking and trying to hide your body from your friend as she places the dresses on the bench nearby.

She places a finger on her chin and her other hand on her hip as her eyes glaze over you again, deep in thought as she nods. “Yeah, youre right… but you still look great, you should wear something like that for my birthday,” she smiled mischievously, but you could tell she was being serious with her words. You try to stop your heart from practically racing out of your chest as you quickly grab another dress from the pile, disappearing into the changing room as Kazuha giggles.

Soon enough, you and Kazuha are practically going through a real life movie montage, with you trying on every dress she suggests and her sitting down and giving you her opinions. You had tried on a flowy red dress that was off the shoulder, and the color was great but Kazuha wasn’t much of a fan of the shape. There was a champagne dress that was very princess-like, but was just simply too much. The layers and the itchiness and overload of glitter made you want to die. This continued on with just about every color and style of dress until the ravenette hands you a long white dress, throwing you a thumbs up and a wink as you disappear back into the changing room. Honestly this was all fun, but if this wasn't the piece for you after going through what felt like thousands before, you were just going to show up in a t-shirt and shorts.

As you slip on this dress, you notice the amount of detail put into it. It was an off the shoulder dress with a leg slit in which the fabric twists around your hips almost like if it were a flower. It hugged your body well, but it wasn't suffocating whatsoever, and the fabric was surprisingly comfortable with a shimmery sheen on top. It was beautiful, but you couldn't manage to zip up the back of the dress by yourself. You poke your head out and meet the gaze of Kazuha, waving your hand to beckon her over and into the room with you.

You couldn't help but notice the way her eyes widened when she saw you, and how they eased over every part of your body for just a little bit too long. You let out an uncomfortable yet soft cough and she snaps her attention back to you, “This.. This might be the dress!” She says, putting on a smile as you laugh at her response, “yeah? You think so?” And she nods, shooting you a comical double thumbs up as you continue, “I need help with the zipper, though. Do you mind?” You turn around and expose your bare back to the other girl.

You try to keep your gaze downwards as you feel her fingers trail down your back, all too scared to accidentally make eye contact with her while so vulnerable. Still, it seemed like the harder you tried to not do it, the more prompted you were to do so. Sparing a glance into the mirror it's nearly impossible to notice how Kazuha bites her lip, her fingers shaking as she zips up the dress for you, almost as if she was scared to touch you. You can feel her breath on the back of your neck and you shiver, realizing she's gotten closer. Her eyes dart up to meet yours within the reflection, and you’re left there frozen like a deer in the headlights. Her hands slowly trail down your sides and firmly land on your hips as she once again drinks in the sight of you, but this time, there's nowhere to go.

All of a sudden it became very very hard to think. For the first time, you see Kazuha’s eyes darken, and you cannot figure out what could possibly be going on in her mind. Hell, you can barely figure out what's going on in your own. She still hasn't broken eye contact with an unreadable poker face as she wraps her arms completely around your hips, pulling you closer and completely pressing your bodies together. You gasp at the sudden contact, feeling heat shoot through the entirety of your body, your ass pressed up against her core. What is she doing? What are you doing? You close your eyes, unable to look at the vulgar spectacle before you. She leans down and gently places her chin on your shoulder as she leans into the cook of your neck, and you feel the ghost of her lips hovering over the sensitive skin, waiting. The sensation causes the quietest whisper of a whimper to escape your lips.

And just like that, it was as if a switch flipped. “You look so pretty!~” she cooes, squeezing your body and rocking the both of you side to side in a playful (and very platonic) embrace as she grins, “You’re going to catch so many eyes at the ball. I’ll let you change and we’ll buy this dress then head out, yeah?” The words flow out so fast, Kazuha manages to slip out of the small changing room before you could even process what happened.

As soon as you hear the sound of her footsteps fading, you press you back up against the cold mirror, hand on your chest as you feel your heart threaten to give in. You squeeze your thighs together as you try to calm every nerve in your body that was working over time (it was all of them.)

Sweat forms on the top of your forehead as you shakily breathe out, “fuck…”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The next few days following the “dress incident” as you very originally named, went by painfully slow. Seeing as it was the end of the school year, you had already finished all of your finals and you were simply left sitting alone in your apartment trapped within your thoughts as the days passed. There isn't any more schoolwork to keep you distracted, but frankly, you dont think even all the assignments in the world could keep you from thinking about what happened in that dressing room. You haven't texted Kazuha since. How could you? What even was that? There had to be a logical explanation for… whatever that was, surely. You’ve known Kazuha for around three years now, and not once has she ever done anything to show you she may like you more than platonically.

The situation left you so distressed, you sought out solace in the form of your roommate, Sakura. You’re left restlessly pacing the living room, biting your nails as you retell the story, the older girl’s eyes following your every move. After seeing you do about 30 rounds around the coffee table, Sakura finally decides to speak up. “Y/n… you do know Kazuha has always treated you differently than the rest of us, right?”

Almost comically, your neck snaps towards your roommate as you dash over to her, grabbing her firmly by the shoulders as your eyes widen, staring her down with a stress driven craze, “what.”

Sakura immediately raises her hands in defense, dropping her phone as she is practically pinned against the couch by your unexpected strength. “I-I’m just saying..! Kazuha has always been a pretty shy and reserved person. I mean, she can hold conversations well with just about anyone just fine. But with you? I've never seen her so outwardly affectionate to anyone. She's always touching you and being… silly? I don't know. At least with me, she’s upbeat sure, but she's usually so much quieter, never latching onto my arm, whining, or always trying to get my attention in any way… I'm sure it's the same for the others too…”

As the older girl’s words trail off, your grip on her loosens, and you can see her sigh in relief as you collapse on the couch next to her, lost in thought. Did Kazuha really treat you differently? “But I thought she was just, I don't know, treating me like one of her girl friends? Gal pals or whatever?”

Sakura simply shrugs at this response, “Maybe to her, you’re more than that.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You sit in the passenger seat of Sakura’s car as you wait in front of Eunchae’s dorm building. Alongside the dress from the store, your hair was tied up into a low bun held in place with a white floral hair stick and accented with a gold arm cuff and necklace that crawled up your body nicely. Sakura had a light pink mermaid style dress on with pearl accents, and you can catch a glance of Eunchae waddling her way over, her hair in an adorable high ponytail to match with her puffy blue dress.

You exchange pleasantries with the younger girl before turning your attention to your phone, nervously nibbling on the pad of your thumb as you quickly send a text to the girl whos been driving you crazy.

Y/n [19:56] – Kkura, Eunchae, and I will be there in five.

Zuha [19:56] – yay!! can't wait to see you in that pretty dress <33

You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling the blush rush to your face.

Y/n [19:57] – What dress are you wearing btw? I didn't see you buy one at the boutique.

Zuha [19:58] – its a surprise～～ (^з^)-☆

“Who are you texting??” Eunchae’s voice rings out, and you immediately shut off your phone in a mild panic as she leans over your shoulder, frowning at the black screen before her.

“Just letting Zuha know we’re on our way– and put your seatbelt on.” You realize how much you sound like a mother in that moment, and it shows on your face, cringing at yourself as Eunchae snickers, returning to her seat as you make your way to the castle.

To describe the venue as grand was an understatement. Your eyes are met with towering spires that stretch dramatically into the sky. The castle was constructed entirely of stone, its walls weathered from the centuries of its existence, dark green ivy leaves crawling up its exterior, giving the fortress a sense of timelessness and majesty. “Wooaaah!! This looks even prettier than the pictures!! They must’ve paid a fortune for this place,” Eunchae’s upbeat cheer interrupts the serene experience as you and Sakura look at each other, laughing as you guide the younger girl down the cobblestone path and toward the crowd.

It felt like all of the university was here at the castle, the courtyard becoming a hive of activity as people shuffled their way in and out through the main doors and from the main hall. The dimly lit grandeur of the hallway before you left you awestruck, casting long shadows that helped illuminate the faces of the individuals passing you by. You spot Kazuha almost too quickly within the crowd, her hair placed elegantly along her bare shoulders as you finally get a look at the dress she picked out for this occasion. She chose the color black for her dress, almost as if to intentionally match your own. The dress was strapless, showcasing her shoulders with a sweetheart neckline that had a hypnotic type of allure to it. The top was fitted, hugging her body and torso to excellently showcase her slim figure before flowing out into a multi layered floor-level skirt. Alongside this, she wears a pair of long black gloves and a pearl necklace that enhances Kazuha’s beauty tenfold, her aura emitting a sense of timelessness and grace. She looked beyond gorgeous, like a black swan. You feel your ears grow hot and your stomach do flips as Sakura gives you a reassuring squeeze on your hand, smiling softly as she guides you and Eunchae towards the group.

Yunjin and Chaewon hold Kazuha in conversation, and you can see a small smile form on her lips as she listens to the duo intently. As the three of you approach, you lock eyes with Yunjin, who grins at your arrival, playfully moving past Kazuha and Chaewon as she wraps her arms around your neck, pulling you into a warm embrace. “y/n!! You made it!!” You get a whiff of her perfume and are immediately hit with a woody scent with a mix of citrus, which you think is fitting with her short green dress and bright orange hair. You laugh into the hug, giving her a light squeeze before looking over at Kazuha.

You swear you see her eyebrow twitch for a millisecond before Yunjin glances at the other girl. Giggling, she leans in and whispers into your ear, “She’s been talking about you all night, by the way.”

Cheeks now embarrassingly flushed, Yunjin pulls away, and you can see Kazuha glaring daggers into the back of Yunjins head as Chaewon sighs, pulling her partner away from you and linking their arms together. The bob-haired girl wore a blood red maxi dress, with matching stiletto heels to boot. She had an authoritative energy to her tonight, and if she wasn’t your friend, you think you would’ve been a little intimidated. “Let the girl breathe, Jen.”

You sheepishly smile as Yunjin sticks her tongue out at the shorter girl, beckoning for Sakura and Eunchae to join as they chatter amongst themselves, leaving you and Kazuha off to the side. After exploding Yunjin with her mind, Kazuha’s gaze softens as she walks up to you, her breath hitching as she opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. You giggle at the sight as she grabs your hands with her gloved ones, looking you in the eyes as she speaks, “you look stunning tonight, y/n,” and the words held a completely different meaning this time. She’s complimented you before– countless times really, but they held a different weight now. It was different now that you could feel an unseen electricity between you two. It was different now because of what she did (or didn't do) to you in the changing room that day.

Blushing, you squeeze her hands, “You look beautiful as well, Kazuha.” Your words were breathless and shy, and you think about how embarrassing it is to say that she quite literally took your breath away with her look tonight. You’re not too sure how long you and Kazuha stood there in the middle of the hall, simply staring at each other as the world seemed to no longer exist around you, but the sound of a cough brings the both of you back down to reality.

“Wanna go to the dance floor? They also have food and drinks,” Chaewon suggests, already leading the group as you can now clearly see how flushed Kazuha’s cheeks are, and you melt at the sight, intertwining your fingers with hers as you follow the group onwards.

The rest of the night was spent dancing and enjoying your time off with your friends. Eunchae was socializing with just about any person who crossed paths with her, Sakura having to hold her back to ensure she didn't get lost. As expected, Yunjin and Chaewon had actually already pregamed the event, but still had more alcohol hidden within their dresses. They offered you a shot, but you declined (much to Yunjins dismay.)

Despite Kazuha being rather introverted and soft spoken most of the time, she definitely had more friends than you realized. Almost every five minutes she would be approached by some group of girls or a lone guy and she’d end up in a conversation that would leave you off to the side. Despite this, Kazuha was an expert at staying true to her word. She always held your hand within hers, sparing glances back at you and playing with your fingers while socializing, almost as if silently saying, “I’m still with you.”

The gesture was sweet, and you really did appreciate it all. But as the night wagered on, you couldn't help but feel that familiar prickling feeling creeping up on you once again. The amount of people brushing up against you made your skin crawl, and the music seemed to be all consuming and suffocating despite the large size of the room you were in. Even holding onto Kazuha's hand was beginning to feel like too much. You frown.

You watch as Kazuha chats with a girl you recognize as Danielle, and you tug a little bit on her arm, catching the taller girl’s attention as she leans over to you, offering an ear as Danielle continues to ramble on. “I think I’m going to get some air!” You try to speak over the music, and it takes a moment for the words to register in her mind, “Do you want me to come with you?” She asks, her eyes caring as she looks into yours, and you want to say “yes, always,” but the rhythm from above begins to shift, and you watch as Danielle’s eyes light up as she grabs hold of Kazhua.

“Oh my god. I love this song, we HAVE to dance, come on!!”

Soon enough your hands break away from one another, and you try to give a reassuring smile to Kazuha who tried to make her way back to you, but ended up getting swept away by Danielle into the sea of people rotating to the dance floor. The smile on your lips drops as soon as she is no longer in sight, and you take a moment to look around. The other girls were nowhere in sight, and there were only strangers surrounding you as you awkwardly mumbled half hearted apologies, desperate to be anywhere but here.

After running through what felt like endless hallways, you burst through a set of wooden doors. Your face is hit with a cool breeze and you finally feel like you can breathe.

You sigh and rub your head, taking in the cold night air as you try to calm yourself down. How ironic. You were so insistent on not being left alone on this night, and when you get what you want, you choose to return to the familiar feeling of solidarity.

Taking in your surroundings, you realize you have ended up on an unused balcony, the stone flooring facing out into the forest beyond. The faint flickering of fireflies emerge from the darkness, and you take a moment to simply just take it all in— to ground yourself. The muffled booming of music from inside lingers, and you close your eyes, leaning over the balcony in contentment.

“Y’know, I don’t think we’re allowed here.”

Kazuha’s warm voice rings out, and you twirl around, finding the taller girl smiling at you softly. She joins your side, staring off into the forest before looking back at you. “Are you okay?”

You hum in response, nodding as you breathe out, eyes focused on the fireflies ahead. “yeah, it was just getting really overwhelming in there…”

Kazuha stays silent, also staring off as a comfortable silence drapes over you two. You can't help but let your mind linger again to the changing room instance, and you look back at the ravenette. She seemed completely unphased by the situation, and you start to wonder if it even happened at all. You open your mouth, wanting to ask what exactly you two were, but the sound of the music inside slowing down catches Kazuha’s attention.

Her ears perk at the tune, and she shifts her gaze back to you, offering her gloved hand just like she did at the very start of this night. “May I have this dance?”

The question catches you completely off guard, and you can't help but laugh, all tension within your mind and body letting loose. “What?? Right now?”

Kazuha gives a gummy smile, “yes. I’d like to dance with you. Right here, right now.”

Your laughter continues and rings out into the night, it’s a wonderful feeling. “Zuha, you know I can't dance,” you chuckle, and despite this truth, you still allow her to take your hand in hers.

“Then just follow my lead.”

You’re pulled into her body, and its a softer experience than before. She guides your free hand onto her shoulder before she places hers on the small of your back. You ease into her touch as she leads the way, taking the first steps and guiding your body to follow. It was clumsy and messy at first, with several instances of you stumbling on your feet and needing Kazuha to keep you up, but it didn't matter at all.

How could it? How could anything else matter in the world right now when the moonlight above framed her face so perfectly? When the shine of the fireflies are dull compared to the woman before you right now?

The both of you laugh as she twirls you in sync with the muffled tune of the song, and you can't help but let out a surprised yelp as she dips you, your hair flying back as you are given a clear sight of the canvas of stars just above the two of you. It was stunning, romantic, even. Kazuha lifts you back up, and suddenly your lips are centimeters apart. You feel her hot breath against your lips, and you suddenly feel like you’ve been transported back to that cramped room.

You feel Kazuha hesitate, before she asks, in barely a whisper, “C-Can I…?”

You would have laughed at the question, the words being so upfront yet so scared coming out of her lips if you didn't so desperately want it as well.

“Please.”

Kazuhas lips immediately press against yours, and it's sweet. It's intentional and tender, full of pent up emotions that threaten to overflow, but the need in the way she tightens her grip on you is strong. She's waited so long for this, and she wants to enjoy it all, but she's holding back, scared that you'll slip away again. Her lips taste like cherries, and it's a wonderful flavor. A flavor you’ve waited three years to taste. You find yourself licking your own lips as you pull away, your arms wrapped around her neck as your faces remain close.

“Is this what you wanted to do when you cornered me back at the boutique?” You whisper, your lips teasingly hovering over Kazuha’s, pulling back when she tries to meet them. You smile mischievously as you see her grow impatient.

“Something like that.”

She's suddenly latched onto you again, lips pressing against yours with more pressure as you gasp, your hand instinctively flying to her hair as you dig your nails into her scalp. A sound you’d never expect to ever come out of such a quiet girl erupts from Kazuha’s throat.

A growl.

You feel that all too familiar heat shoot throughout your body once again as the taller girl pushes you against the stone railiing, her lips trailing down your jawline and onto your neck. Her teeth graze the skin and you cant help but let out a moan, your voice egging her on even more as she begins to mark your neck.

You really should stop her. You’re still out in public, and there was no way you would be able to cover any hickeys she may leave on you with a dress that was very much made to remain off your shoulders. But when she presses her knee in between your legs through your dress and her hands find their way to your chest, who are you to stop her?

Kazuha was nowhere near finished with you.

[supernaturalgirl20]

ok ok i have a joel x reader request. maybe after settling down in jackson, reader has some guys approaching her and flirting which makes joel feel insecure and like reader would be better off without him? she has to reassure him that he’s the one for her. maybe some smut but just very soft and loving perhaps

Love this request 🥰 thanks nonnie, hope you enjoy 😊

A Fool for You

Pairings: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, slight age gap, insecure Joel, self doubt, flirting, slight jealousy, smidge of angst,cursing, fluff.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

Joel waited patiently at the gates for the morning patrol party to return, more specifically, you. He hated when you did patrols without him, but Tommy had insisted you help out with the new crew that had arrived last month.

He’d grumbled about it, but you’d assured him you’d be fine. Joel knew you could handle yourself. That wasn’t the issue. He didn’t trust the new guys, not one bit. It didn’t help that they seemed enamoured with you. Always watching you with their lust-filled eyes. 

“They’re not back yet?” Ellie asked as she sidled up beside him. His gaze turned towards her, and he shook his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“She’ll be ok, ya know? She can handle herself just fine.” Ellie was trying her best to reassure him, but he couldn’t shake the anxiety that had settled in the pit of his stomach. Ellie’s laugh startled him from his thoughts and when he met her gaze again, she was bowled over with laughter. 

“You’ve got it bad man.” She smacked his arm as she continued to laugh causing a scowl to form on his face. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ bout”, he grumbled as he huffed out a breath, his gaze fixed firmly in the gate. 

“Sure ya don’t. You should just tell her how you really feel and then you can finally give her that ring you’ve been squirrelling away.” Ellie looked at him then with her eyebrows raised, a silent challenge for him to correct her but he didn't. 

How the hell did she find out about the ring? He thinks to himself as tries to steal his expression, not wanting to prove her right. Of course, Ellie would know how he truly felt. There wasn’t much he was able to keep hidden from her, she could read him like a book. 

“She loves you too, ya know? In case you were wondering. You two are about as subtle as a sledgehammer.” The sound of the gate opening captured her attention and she missed the way Joel’s face lit up. 

Did you really love him? He loves you. There’s no doubt in his mind about how he feels about you; he just doesn’t know if you feel the same. The relationship you both had was undefined, but you lived together, you slept in the same bed and took pleasure from each other’s bodies and to everyone in Jackson, you were Joel’s girl. 

Could you truly love him? 

Hope began to bloom deep inside him and when he saw you enter through the gate, he couldn’t help the smile that edged its way onto his face. 

“See I told you, she’s just fine,” Ellie’s voice sounded from beside him, startling him. He’d forgotten she was standing there and when he looked down at her she tilted her head in your direction. “Go on then. Go get her.”

“Ain’t, you supposed to be at school?” He asked, his eyebrow raised in question. She simply shrugs her shoulders before winking at him and turning to leave. He smirks after her, silently wondering how he got lucky enough to get a second chance at a normal life. 

“Hey, are you waiting here long? One of the new girls had a meltdown out there. It's what took so long to get back.” Joel’s eyes take you in, searching for any signs that you might have been hurt and when he finds none, he breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Not long. Just glad you’re ok. Ain’t lettin Tommy make this a regular thing though. I ain’t been able to sit still all mornin’.” 

You smile up at him as his gaze drifts to the others filing into the town behind you. He clenches his fists as he spots some of the new guys ogling you. The fuck they looking at?

He feels a rage begin to simmer beneath the surface of his skin and without thinking much about it he wraps his arms around you and crashes his lips to yours. You gasp at first, shocked by his sudden display of affection, something he never does but it quickly turns into a soft moan as he licks along your bottom lip and his hands grab your ass. 

What’s gotten into him? You think to yourself as you wind your hand around his neck. Just as it starts to get a little heated, he pulls away and glares over your shoulder. You follow his line of sight and suddenly it all makes sense. 

He’s jealous. 

Jake and Dillon are both glancing in your direction and his hands grip your hips a little tighter causing the smile on your face to widen. 

“You ain’t gotta worry about them Miller. I’m all yours.” You tease and he quickly glances at you before grumbling under his breath. You take his hand in yours and lead him away from the crowd gathered at the gate towards your shared home. 

“Come on, I’m starving. Let’s go home.”

***

Joel made sure after that - having threatened Tommy enough - that you were always on the same patrol. It always made him uneasy when you went out of Jackson without him. 

Everyone knew you were his lady. It didn’t have to be announced, it was just the way it was.

Apparently though, the new guys didn’t seem to get the message and with each patrol they began to flirt more with you, and it did nothing to help with his ever growing insecurities. 

He’d always felt like you were too good for him. Since way back in the Boston QZ and he ignored his feelings for you by hooking up with Tess. She knew of course, nothin slipped past that woman. 

You were smart, beautiful and a little bit younger and as time passed by and you became more settled into this new life, he began to question if you were better off without him. 

“Hey,” your voice startled him from his thoughts and as he looked up at you, leaning against the door to your shared room, he couldn’t help but smile. 

“Hey darlin’, everythin alright?” You nodded your head as you pushed away from the door frame. 

“Yep, just wanted to see if you wanted to come to the Tipsy Bison, the patrol crew are all meeting for a well-deserved drink.” You made your way towards him, settling yourself between his open legs and wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Gotta head over to the stables and fix up the fence, but you head on over, as soon as I’m done, I’ll join ya.” He lifted his hand to brush some hair off your face, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“M’okay.” His hand drifts behind your neck and pulls you close. His lips meet yours in a soft kiss before he pulls away and pats your ass. “Go on now, or we’ll both be late.”

You smile down at him as you peck his lips once more and turn to leave. Joel let out a sigh as the sound of the door closing echoed through the house. He needed to stop thinkin like that. 

***

Your laughter is the first thing he hears as he pushes open the door to the Tipsy Bison. It’s a sound he’s grown to love over the years you’ve been together, and it always brings a smile to his face. 

The smile quickly turns to a scowl though as he stands at the entrance, the door swishing behind him. His stomach twists into knots and his heart thunders within his chest when he sees you standing at the bar with Dillon. 

He’s clearly said something funny which explains your laughter but that’s not what bothers Joel. It’s the way he’s standing too close, his hand gently touching your arm. It’s the way his eyes keep drifting to your lips. 

Those doubts and insecurities simmer to the surface, and he panics. What if you want someone more like Dillon? Someone stronger. Someone younger. Joel can’t take it anymore and before you can spot him, he turns and leaves, making his way home. 

He bursts into the house, the front door slamming behind him echoing through the air as he rushes past the kitchen and up the stairs. 

“Hey, everything alright?” Ellie’s voice shouts after him but he doesn’t answer. “Okay then,” she mutters as she continues to fill her bag. 

***

The laughter dies in your throat the minute Dillon’s hand touches your arm. He was sweet and very funny, but you didn’t have any interest in him like that. Not when you were madly in love with Joel. 

As if your mind had conjured him, you see him in the doorway of the bar, his back to you as he makes a hasty exit. Was he not going to join you?

You're not sure what Dillon is talking about now that your mind is on Joel. With a wry smile you turn back towards him. “I’m gonna head out, ok?”

You down the rest of your whiskey and turn to leave but Dillon’s hand on your wrist stops you. 

“I thought we were having a good time,” he says, his tone a little clipped. Your eyes drift to where he’s touching you and you quickly pull your hand away. “Look, you’re a nice guy but I’m not interested. I love Joel. I’m his.”

“That old sack of shit,” he jeers, and you can feel the anger bubbling beneath the surface of your skin. 

“What did you say?” He laughs again and you clench your fist tight. “I said he’s an old sack of shi…”

“Fuck! You bitch.” He cries as you punch him squarely in the face. He holds his nose as blood flows freely from it, trickling down over his hand. 

“You better watch what you say about my man. Cause I ever hear you say shit like that again,” you lean in close, your breath tickling the skin of his neck. “I’ll rip your cock off. Got it?” 

He nods his head frantically before rushing out the door. The bar is silent now and you can feel Tommy behind you before he says anything. 

“Jesus, you and Joel are perfect for each other. I reckon he won’t bother ya again now. Hell, I reckon no man is gonna bother ya now.” His hand rests on your shoulder squeezing gently. 

“Good. Cause I’m already takin.” Tommy pats you on the back as he turns back towards the bar. You let out a sigh as you walk out of the bar and make your way home. You know that’s where he’s gone. 

“Hey, something happen with Joel? He stormed up the stairs like a moody teenager.” Ellie asks as you make your way into the kitchen.

“Not really sure but I’m gonna head up and see if he’s ok.” You furrow your brow when Ellie throws her backpack on. “Are you off somewhere?”

“Yeah, I’m heading over to Dina’s. I’m staying the night so don’t worry about me.” She gives you a tight hug before heading for the door and leaving. 

You close your eyes and take in a deep breath before ascending the stairs two at a time. Your hand hovers over the door handle of your shared room and you hope that he doesn’t shut you out this time. 

The door creaks as you push it open and you find Joel suiting on the bed facing the window. His shoulders are tense and you decide to crawl across the bed and wrap yourself around him. He tenses more when he feels your arms slip around his back towards his chest. 

“What are ya doin?” His voice is low, and you can feel the rumble of it as your head presses against his back. 

“What’s wrong? You’ve been a little off since I did that patrol on my own a couple of weeks back.” 

He sighs, leaning forward and placing his hands on his face. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong.”

“Ok, yeah, I don’t believe that for a second, baby. You can tell me anything, you know that right?”

“I don’t think this is gonna work out,” he mutters quickly through his hands. Your heart cracks just a little. Where the hell is this coming from?

“Joel,” you whisper as you pull away from his back and move to straddle him. He reluctantly moves his hands away from his face to grip your hips, making sure you don’t fall. 

His gaze settles on the window behind you but you're not having any of it. Reaching out to him, you gently place your hand on his cheek, and he closes his eyes at the feeling of you touching him. 

“Look at me please.” Your voice is soft, and you run your thumb along the stubble of his cheek. He takes a deep breath before slowly opening his eyes and meeting your gaze. 

“What’s going on, Joel? Are you really breaking up with me?” He swallows loudly, his eyes tracing the curve of your face before letting his eyes drift away. 

“No! Look at me and say it. Say you want this to end. That you don’t want me anymore.” It comes out a little harsher than you wanted but you need him to talk to you about what’s running through his head. 

“I ain’t good enough for ya, darlin’.” It’s almost a whisper but you heard him loud and clear. “You could have anyone you wanted. I’m just holdin ya back baby.”

“Now hold on a minute, where are you getting this from. Joel, baby.” You grab his face with both hands and force him to look at you. “You are not holding me back. You make me better, in every way and I couldn’t live without you. So please don’t make me.”

“You should be with someone closer in age. Someone like Dillon.” That’s when it clicks. 

“I don’t want him. I don’t want anyone that isn’t you. Never have, never will. Joel, you're stuck with me. Besides, you ain’t that much older than me, baby. I love you.”

His breath hitches. You love him. His eyes glaze over with unshed tears and a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “You-you love me?” 

“Afraid so. You, Joel Miller, are the love of my life. You ain’t too old for me. You may be a little bit grumpy but, you wouldn’t be you if you weren’t.” 

He grabs your ass and pulls you close, resting his head in the crook of your neck. He breathes you in savouring the feel of you in his arms. His heart beats wildly as he utters those words back. 

“I love you too, darlin’.” You run your fingers through his hair, and he hums contentedly. “You are sure I’m what you want?” He asks as he pulls back to look at you. 

“Let me show you how much I want you.” He gulps as you remove your jacket and top, tossing them onto the floor behind you. His eyes widen, transfixed by your form as you make quick work of removing your bra.

You slip off his lap and remove your trousers, taking your underwear off with them. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whisper as his eyes trail the length of your naked body. 

You bend, pulling off his boots and socks before running your hands up along his jean clad thighs. Undoing his belt, you reach for his zipper and he lifts his hips as you pull his jeans off. 

His breathing is ragged as you straddle his waist again, hands running up his chest reverently. His arousal is hard against you and he closes his eyes and groans when you run your slick along it.

With delicate fingers, you slowly undo the buttons of his shirt, rolling it off his shoulders. You giggle at the sight of the grey t-shirt he has underneath. 

“Why do you always have to wear so many layers?” He smiles at you and shrugs his shoulders. “Think it’s cause I’m….”

You place your finger against his lips, “if you say you’re old, i'm gonna slap you baby.” He chuckles, slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him. 

“M’okay. I won’t say it so.” His eyes are focused on your lips, and you lean in and capture his in a searing kiss. You swallow the moan he lets out as you slowly grind against him. 

“Wanna take care of you, baby,” you whisper against his lips. He doesn’t answer. He can’t. He’s too damn horny. 

You push at his chest, forcing him onto his back and the way he’s looking up at you sends a shiver down your spine. 

You don’t speak. You don’t want to ruin the moment with words, so you grab his length in your hand and pump him twice before you line him up and sink down on him. He whimpers, his hands gripping your hips tight as he keeps his gaze focused on where he disappears inside you. 

It’s slow, sensual as you roll your hips above him. You’re focused on him, on his pleasure as you try to reassure him with your body that he’s it for you. 

You can feel your pleasure build and as your orgasm washes over you, Joel makes a strangled noise below you. His eyes are wide open, glazed over with lust as he focuses on the way your breasts bounce slightly. He moves his hand from your hip to squeeze your breast, pinching your pebbled nipple between his fingers and you moan softly as you clench around him. 

His breathing becomes more ragged, and you know he’s close. You ride him a little harder and he trembles as he nears his release. He groans out your name as his body jerks, spurting hot ropes of cum inside you. You both pant loudly, his grip on your hips loosening as he pulls you down towards him. He doesn’t pull out, wanting to stay connected to you for a little longer. 

“So, have I convinced you you’re it for me?” You whisper into his chest. Joel smiles, lifting your chin towards him and he connects his lips with yours. “Don’t know darlin’. Might need a little more convincin’.” 

You smack his chest, and he chuckles, pulling you close. “Hey,” he says as he grabs your hand. “Why is your hand bruisin’?” You shrug your shoulders and nuzzle back into his chest. “Let’s just say, you aint gotta worry about Dillon no more.” His eyebrows arch and his chest expands with pride. You really are his lady.

He knows that you love him. That he loves you and that you are all he needs. You and Ellie. His gaze drifts towards his bedside locker where the ring he found a couple of months back lays sitting in a black box. 

A smile plays across his face. He’s gonna have to ask you now. Ask you to be his wife. Maybe then - when you’re wearing his ring on your finger, sharing his name - the men of Jackson will think twice about flirting with what’s his. 

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories @musings-of-a-rose @untitledarea @your-voice-is-mellifluous @majestyjade @avengersfan25 @angstismydrug @everythingfan @pedrosbum @ryangoslingstanktop

[twilghtkoo]

summary. haechan gets hurt but you know that with him it’s not going to be as simple as putting a band-aid on it

pairings. haechan x reader (f)

genre. fluff, crack? friends to lovers??

word count. 1.64k

warnings. mentions of blood, a creepy man stares at reader

notes. me finding hello kitty bandaids in a store and buying them sparked this idea so :D like and reblog if you enjoy this !!

masterlist

—

your dear friend is one stubborn person. one who seeks excitement wherever he can find it and likes to find things out the hard way. in this case being, falling off of a skateboard. you told him to not ride too fast and to not go down the small pavement hill, and what did he do? go down the hill riding too fast. the hill had caused him to accelerate unwillingly and him not being able to stop himself before he collided with the ground.

you gasped at the scene from the bench that was a bit of a distance between you and haechan, who is lying still in the grass. he’s not dead, just lying face down suffering from embarrassment and moaning in pain.

you let out a big sigh, grabbing all of yours and his belongings before crouching down next to the limp body.

you carefully reach out your hand to place on his back. “haechan…”

he flinched at your presence, turning over slowly. “no go away, let me lie in my own embarrassment and pain alone.” he breathes out. his eyes are shut tightly as he holds his hip and his knees brought to his chest.

you roll your eyes at him, shoving his hand away to take a close look at his knee. “you’re a drama queen, you know that?”

his knee suffered the most from the fall, his hip for sure will have a bruise tomorrow.

you wince at the blood, the . “you’re bleeding haechan, we have to get back to the bench so i can clean it up.” you inform him.

he shakes his head, bringing his forearm to cover his face. “no, just leave me here to bleed out.”

you scoff, shaking your head before you take the arm that hides his face and pulling him up to his feet.

“shit,” he curses.

you allow him to use you for support as you both struggle to make your way back to the park bench. he sits himself down and finally glances at his knee.

his eyes bulge out at the bloody sheet on his knee. “ew, oh my god, that’s a lot of blood.”

you nod, “it’s not too bad, thank goodness. stay here i’m going to run to the convenience store and get stuff to clean it up.” and you’re gone before he can argue, leaving him alone with a bloody knee and an aching hip.

the doorbell chimes once you walk into the store, giving the worker a nod as you make your way to where the bandages are. there’s the store brand, a brand you recognize from tv and there’s some fun cartoon ones. pokémon, baby shark, toy story and others.

a certain box is quickly in your hands as you smirk to yourself. grabbing a few other things before making your way to pay for it.

“hey squirrel, did you see how i fell? was it embarrassing?” haechan speaks to the small animal that is munching on something next to his feet. the squirrel doesn’t react in any way, obviously. and he wonders to himself why he doesn’t listen to you, knowing you’re always right. why did he itch to go down that stupid hill and tumble to his doom. in front of you.

“look at all this blood. can you believe i fell in front of the girl i like.” he speaks again, but more like to himself as he stares at the gash on his knee and the drop of blood trickling down his leg.

you and him are close friends. first meeting each other at the movie theater when a few studio ghibli movies were showing. you ripped his ticket up in your cute work uniform behind the counter, making small conversation and telling him that spirited away was your favorite movie and telling him to enjoy the film.

and he enjoyed the film, even coming back out the theater room and finding you in the same spot you both met earlier. you were a quiet character, not much of a talker but just because you didn’t really have much to say but you loved listening. you love and care for people in your own way, something he admires and loves about you. to strangers you may seem closed off but when you grow comfortable with someone you’re very high spirited.

he hears footsteps running quickly to his side, the squirrel scurrying off probably to the tree behind him. goodbye, little friend.

you slow your pace down once you’re near him, a warm smile on your face as you wave the bag in your hand in front of him.

“i’m back,” you huffed, crouching and placing the bag down next to you. your bottom lip is sucked in between your teeth, deeply concentrated as you take out the essentials.

“i’m just gonna clean it with water real quick, okay?” you show him the water bottle and napkins in your hands.

you carefully pour the liquid onto the napkins, your hand grabs the back of his knee as you bring it closer to the abrasion.

before the wet cloth touches him, he flinches away. “wait!” he yelps.

you jump, “what?”

“i’m scared,” he pouts.

your hands drop. “of what?”

“it’s gonna burn!”

“oh my god, haechan do not start.”

he lightly kicks his leg away from you, shielding his wound with his hands.

“haechan i will literally hold you down, it’s not gonna hurt that bad. i promise.” you try to threaten him. you reach for his leg again, wiping the blood that trickled it’s way down and stained his white socks.

his eyes follow another pair of feet walking past you, a man in a tracksuit ogles at your back. haechan follows his eyes to you, and he realizes you’re wearing a dress. haechan’a eyes narrow at the man but the stranger isn’t ashamed as he keeps looking back at you. he’s sure the man can feel his hard stares but is just ignoring him and that makes his blood coil. haechan shrugs his zip up sweater off and cooly throws it over your shoulders, it’s big enough on you to cover the draft to any passersby’s.

you look at the sweater on your shoulders but ignore it, he observes you for a bit before dropping his shoulders. “hmph, fine.”

“and look!” you gasp, reaching down beside you to hold out the small box of hello kitty band aids with a big smile curving your lips upwards.

haechan’s face deadpans. “how old are you?”

you frown, taken back. “what? they’re bandages, but cute. do you want to bleed out? don’t disrespect miss hello kitty.” you stuck your chin out.

he laughs, “i’m a grown ass man, i’m not slapping hello kitty on my battle scar.”

now it’s your turn to laugh. “a grown ass man that fell and acted like he was on the brink of death. yeah, okay. give me your knee,” you demanded.

you quickly dab as much blood away as you can through haechan’s hisses. wiping away the dried blood was a bit hard since he was fighting you but it’s all clean.

“green or pink?” you ask.

he tilts his head, thinking before he answers green.

you take the selected band-aid, the hello kitty that is customized with a green bow and green dress, a blue colored sky behind her and a red flower on the ground that matches her outfit. how cute.

you peel it off from the wrapper, gently placing it over his wound.

you crumble the trash in your hands and place it inside the grocery bag. “all better now, see? wasn’t so bad.”

you stand up, wincing from the position you were sat in for so long before haechan’s long, slick fingers wrapped around your wrist.

“wait, you forgot something.” he tells you.

“huh, what did i forget?” you genuinely ask.

he looks at you seriously. “you have to kiss it better, so it’ll heal quicker.”

your lips part and your cheeks heat up. “what…” the word barely leaves past your lips.

he raises his eyebrows expectantly, as if he’s waiting.

you shake your head, snatching your hand out of his grasp. “be serious, haechan.”

“i’m being very serious,” he tells you. “come on, don’t you want me to get better?”

“it’s just a scrape, your leg isn’t broken.” can he hear the thumping in your chest? god, it’s like it’s ringing in your ears.

you know he’s not gonna let you get away without actually kneeling down and kissing his knee. he will put up a fight in this park and you know it. he likes to tease you.

but how can he ask that question so freely. your lips have never touched any part of his skin because friends don’t do that!

it’s like he loves torturing you, contributing these heartfelt acts unknowingly like an arrow to your heart.

“you big baby.” you mumble out, crouching down and taking a clear glimpse at the cute bandage on his skin, it makes you smile.

haechan gazed at you, anticipating the moment your lips touch his skin. he is so sure that once your lips come in contact with his knee, he’ll be able to run a marathon. can you hear the thumping in his chest?

your face nears his knee, you pucker your lips and you gently place a kiss just below the bandage.

you clear your throat. “there. better now?” you try to act cool, standing to your feet and peering down at your friend.

“i don’t know, can you watch how far i run?” and your friend zooms past you, running across the grass field as if he wasn’t whining and limping by your side just a few moments ago.

“what the hell?” you shout out, chasing after him. “how are you running? yah, lee donghyuck!”

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter one

close to home | chapter one

plot: a nice introductory to the reader and a sense of who she is

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 1,287 Warnings: violence, blood A/N: thanks for checking out the first chapter! Just a nice quick introduction to the character :)

You’d woken to the sound of something thumping against the wood floor of your home and the loud meow of Tora. She’d taken it upon herself to catch breakfast for the two of you, a fat squirrel. After the unexpected meal the two of you shared, you knew what needed to be done. Today was run day. And you were out of water. 

So you geared up, an empty gray canvas pack on your shoulders, your one good gun strapped around your leg, a machete at your waist, and a few other knives hidden around your body. You were always prepared. 

The morning spring bite nipped at your cheeks when you stepped outside the tiny home. Your eyes scanned the ground below for any signs of the dead, and you listened for the rustling leaves of footsteps. But there was nothing. You were safe for now. 

It was easier climbing down the tree than up, though Tora made it look relatively easy. But you weren’t lucky enough to have claws to help you, so climbing down the rope was your only option. 

The rope slid easily enough through your leather glovelettes and soon your boots hit the ground. Tora was waiting for you, sitting by the main tree trunk holding your home. 

“Yeah, yeah,” You said to the cat, “Let’s go find water before we die of thirst, huh?” You said to the cat. 

It was silent as you walked towards the lake four miles from your home. The sky above you was full of puffy white clouds, and the trees around you kept you mainly in the shade. A few birds sang above in the treeline, and every so often, Tora chased a squirrel up the tree. By the time you reached the lake, you had two hanging from your belt, and the day was warming up. 

Licking the sweat off your upper lip, your knelt by the water’s edge and started filling up the empty plastic water bottles you had. Tora splashed around in the muddy, sandy mix of the lakeshore and chirped at the little fish that darted away from her. 

You chuckled to yourself and moved on to another bottle. The sun was now at the midpoint in the sky, and you scolded yourself for taking so long to get to the lake. The Georgia heat this spring seemed unforgivable, as if whatever God that sent this plague was sending another sick joke. The idea of summer being around the corner kept you up at night. You hated the heat. 

Just as the fourth bottle was filled, a branch snapped at the tree line. Then came the familiar moaning, and you looked up in time to see two deads headed your way. Tora hissed at the sight of them and darted toward the nearest tree. 

“Good girl, Tora,” You said, screwing the bottle shot and standing. It thudded to the ground, and you grabbed the machete and twirled it once in your hand. Your eyes darted between the dead as you worked out a plan. 

They were moving slowly, no doubt cause of the heat and decaying parts of their body. But still, they were persistent. The closest one attacked first, and you ducked, bending around its outreached arms and kicking it to the ground, just in time for the other one to reach you. Your machete hit the skull first, and the body dropped, giving you a second to pull it out.

Blood speckled your face like freckles as you turned and grabbed the last dead one by the throat. Its arms reached out to hold you, but you quickly ended it before it ended you. Its body joined its partner on the grass, and you flicked the machete before stabbing it into the ground, cleaning the blood off. 

You whistled a three-note tune and heard Tora meowing. The Maine coon cat was among the most intelligent animals you’d ever trained. 

“Come on, baby,” You said, “The day is just getting started.”

***

If your watch was correct, it was nearing four in the afternoon. This meant you had about four hours until sunset and were a long way from home. After the lake, you took the familiar southern trail to a small state park. A few abandoned RVs that you’d picked clean weeks ago told you that you were very close to a small town that was mostly deserted. 

You whipped the seat off your forehead as you approached one of the first buildings you’d have the courage to check out. It was a town hall building with nothing good except a few dead bodies. Apparently, small-town governments weren’t on the top evacuation lists. 

Tora trotted alongside you, her head just below your knee, and her hair matted from today’s journey. You’d have to brush it out for her when you return home. 

You ignored the town hall building and walked through the town's main street. It was utterly silent, save for the scuff of your boots and your cat's occasional meow or hiss. 

“Okay, last time we were here, we checked out the library,” You said to the cat, “I think we should check out the corner store next. Odds were that it’s been picked clean already, but it wouldn’t hurt to check. I also am going to need summer clothes….” You trailed off as you shielded your eyes from the sun. The morning clouds had grown darker, but the hot sun still managed to peak out. You heard some thunder in the distance but couldn’t tell how far or where it was coming from.

“If we need to make camp tonight, we can go to the library,” You said. You’d had to spend the night in the town several times, and the library was the safest place to get to. It was easy to climb to, and Tora was familiar with it. 

The corner store had a few things you could scavenge; a few Tylenol travel packets, some jerky you found underneath the shelves, and an assortment of lights and matchbooks. Tora even found something; the broken shopkeeper bell. 

Still, there was nothing you really needed. There was no ammo or water. Those were your top priorities. 

You checked a few other small shops; a gunshop, nothing, a bank, for the hell of it, and then finally a thrift store, where you found plenty of clothes. You took your time going through the section, trying to weigh out what was best for the summer heat. You needed to keep cool, but you needed to be protected. You found a couple shirts and shorts, new undergarments and socks. Your bag was filled to the brim, and you knew it was time to head back. 

“Crap,” You muttered when you walked back to the front door. Tora meowed in her own disapproving way. 

The sudden downpour and oncoming thunderstorm would keep you there tonight. Tora wouldn’t venture into the rain unless absolutely necessary, and you felt the same way. 

“At least we found some jerky,” You said. 

It wasn’t hard to build up a makeshift camp in the building. Dozens of once-donated blankets provided ample bedding for you and Tora, and there were enough books to get a small fire going in the back of the building. With only four bottles of water, you took ample care of gutting and cleaning a squirrel for dinner for the two of you. It wasn’t long before you put the fire out and settled in for the night. 

[e-dubbc11]

I was wondering…in the Sweetest Pain Series, around what age does Dylan go from sweet mama loving baby, to the cool guy he is currently?

Hello my darling friend! Thank you for sending in this ask ♥️ I hope you like what I’ve done here and I know this technically wasn’t a part of my follower celebration but I think I’ll put in in the masterlist for it when I create one. So thank you for sending in this ask for our favorite family ♥️

He’s Not So Little Anymore

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Tattoo Artist Billy Russo x F! Reader with their son Dylan

Warnings: I think a couple of swear words, the rest is pure fluffy bunnies and unicorns, a few tears, feelings of your babies growing up

Word Count: 1.8K-ish

Summary: Reader is feeling a little sad that her son is too old to hang out with his mom. Billy comforts her.

A/N: Thank you again for sending this in, I know how much you like this series and this family and to everyone else who enjoys this series, thank you all for reading! And I’ll leave the rest of the series linked HERE

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕💕

Acceptance is a difficult emotion to navigate.

Knowing Dylan wouldn’t be little forever, you tried to convince yourself that you still had some time left for cozy snuggles, for him asking you to watch a movie with him, secretly observe him play with his dinosaur toys, or to hear him call you “mommy.” But the truth was he had outgrown all of those things and you were having a hard time accepting that.

Dylan was your second baby but he wasn’t a baby anymore. He went from playing with toy cars to racing go-karts with his friends. His once round chubby little face had started to thin out, he started styling his wild dark brown hair before school every day and suddenly he didn’t trust you to pick out his clothes anymore. Dylan had asked for you or Billy to take him shopping for school clothes because he had his own taste now, he knew what he liked and didn’t like, and he wanted to be the one to pick out his own clothes.

You were still getting used to your daughter, Anna Raven, growing up also. She was 14 now and her own little person with her own ideas, likes and dislikes. She was on her way to becoming a young adult even though it killed you to watch her grow up when it seemed like it was just yesterday she was getting her first pair of toddler Converse sneakers and saying her first words.

But Dylan was your precious baby boy, your little man, and, like Anna, he was growing up before your eyes. He was 10 years old, into playing video games, taking guitar lessons, and really enjoyed hearing about all the pranks his father and Uncle Frank pulled on each other while they were in the Marines. He was always just in complete awe of his dad serving his country being a marine.

While Dylan was at his guitar lesson, Billy came home a little early and found you in the living room.

“What are ya doin’, sweet girl?” Asked Billy, as he walked toward the couch where you were seated.

With a slight hitch in your voice, you replied, “Looking at Dylan’s baby pictures.”

Billy sat down next to you, looked down at the open pages, and you watched as his lips curled into a slight smile.

He pointed to one at the top of the page. Dylan was sitting in his high chair with cake and frosting smeared across his face. His fingers spread far apart on his chubby little hands to help him grab as much cake as possible to shovel into his mouth and his cheeks were so full of cake, he looked like a squirrel storing acorns for winter.

“His first birthday. He destroyed that cake, remember?” Said Billy, with a slight chuckle.

You laughed a little too as you swiped a tear away from your cheek.

“The T-Rex didn’t see that coming, did he.” You said with a warm smile.

Billy could hear the hitch in your voice like you were fighting back tears and you really were, they burned the back of your eyes as you tried to keep yourself from weeping. He knew you were barely holding yourself together when he drew you in close, your ear flush against his chest, and you could hear the gentle rhythm of his heart.

“It’s ok, baby. You can cry if you need to.” Said Billy, kissing the top of your head.

Your gentle sob broke through, “He’s not a baby anymore, Billy! Sometimes I…I miss when they were little, that’s all. Anna’s a teenager, she’s starting to do more things with her friends and is very involved in school. And Dylan, he used to be my little buddy, we used to do a lot of things together and now he’s taking guitar lessons, actually combing his hair and flashing girls that perfect Russo smile of yours.” You said with dryness in your throat.

Billy softly pressed his lips to your forehead, you could feel a wide smile stretch across his face, and a slight chuckle escaped the side of his mouth. Like a cat, you buried your face into his green Henley as his long arms squeezed you tightly.

Your voice was somewhat muffled as you said, “You’re laughing at me, Billy.”

“Only a little.” He replied. “But that’s what they’re supposed to do, sweet girl. We prep them for the real world, teach them not to be assholes, guide them in the right direction and off they go. They still need us, baby, but I know what you mean…sometimes I miss when they were little too.”

You remembered how nervous Billy was when he found out he was going to be a father, he never had one so he was scared he wouldn’t be a good one. He watched Frank with his kids and he loved being an uncle to Lisa and Junior but knowing he was going to have a child of his own, Billy was scared he wouldn’t be good at it.

He surprised himself at how he took to it so naturally when Little Raven was born. The first time he held her, fed her, changed her…and although it was still difficult, it was easier than he thought it would be and by the time Dylan came around, Billy was a professional.

He really was a great dad.

Both Anna and Dylan were always very relaxed when Billy held them with the exception of the time period where Dylan always wanted mommy, not daddy. They rarely cried or struggled and instead, just melted into his arms like you did when he held you in an embrace.

You remembered telling him then, “They trust you, baby. You make them feel safe and protected, just like you do for me.”

Inhaling the scent of green soap from his shirt, you replied, “Not fair baby, you’re using my words against me.”

“Well my wife IS a lot smarter than I am. She knows what she’s talking about.” Said Billy.

When you raised your chin up to meet his gaze, Billy was fondly looking down at you with his endless brown eyes and the loving smile that he’s given you thousands of times. He inched his face closer to you and softly pressed his lips to yours, they tasted like peppermint and his hand cupped your cheek.

After setting the photo album down next to you on the couch, you crawled into his lap, brushed the bristles of his beard with your thumbs, and deepened the kiss as a low growl escaped his lips.

Billy’s hands traveled to your ass which took you by surprise and you let out a yelp.

“Ya know, beautiful, Anna is just upstairs and Dylan should be home any minute from his lesson. You keep kissing me like that, it’s gonna lead to somethin’ the kids shouldn’t see.” He said with a smile in between kisses.

With a slight pout and a quick bat of your eyelashes, you said, “Okaaaaaay, will you play with me later?”

Outside, a car door slammed shut and then you heard a key in the lock.

“Just try and stop me, sweet girl.” Said Billy, as he kissed the tip of your nose.

The front door closed and Dylan walked into the living room carrying his guitar case.

“Hey Mom, hey Dad.” Dylan said. “Whaaaaat were you guys doin’?” He asked with narrowed eyes.

“Lookin’ at your baby pictures! You wanna see?” You asked excitedly.

“Maybe later, I gotta go practice. Oh, when Ms. Mullaney dropped me off she was talkin’ about this old movie she likes that she thinks I’d like called Aliens. You know it, right Mom? You know every movie on earth!” He said.

“Excuse me? Old movie?!!” You said with an elevated voice.

Billy jumped in.

“Uh, baby he’s not wrong, it is an old movie.” He said.

Deflated, you replied, “Yeah, you’re right it is old…I just didn’t wanna say it out loud because that means I’m old.”

Billy and Dylan started to laugh, both of them exuding that perfect smile that you loved so much. Your not-so-little boy was an exact copy of his father from his wild dark brown hair, intense brown eyes, and, of course, the million dollar smile.

Billy said, “And just because it’s old, doesn’t make it any less awesome…just like your mother. I’m kidding! I’m kidding, baby!”

He started to laugh as a long drawn out gasp escaped your lips.

“Billy Russo! How dare you!” You said as you tried to keep a straight face but ended up laughing too.

“Dad did say you were awesome too, Mom.” Said Dylan with a reassuring smile. “So, will you watch it with me later, Mom? Please?”

The tears stung the back of your eyes. Trying your best to not let them fall, you replied, “Of course I will, buddy.”

With an excited smile, he replied, “Cool! Well, I’m gonna go practice for a little while. Be ready to watch when I’m done, ok?”

“I will be ready!” You said enthusiastically as you watched him walk up the stairs to his room.

As soon as his door closed, your tears fell but Billy was right there to catch them before they streaked down your cheeks and placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

“See sweet girl, he’s getting older but Dylan still wants to hang out with his mom.” He said with a wink. “I love you.”

You replied, “I love you too, handsome. Ooh! We get to play our favorite game! Ok, 20 bucks says he’s gonna start his practice session with Come as You Are – Nirvana. What’s your guess?”

Billy pondered for a minute and scratched at his beard with his long fingers before he said, “Smoke on the Water – Deep Purple.”

The two of you shook hands and waited patiently for Dylan to fire up his guitar. It was so quiet in the living room, you could hear a pin drop before the familiar riff of Come as You Are traveled from Dylan’s room down to the living room where you were.

Pumping both fists in the air, an excited smile stretched across your lips as you let out a taunting laugh.

“HA!! Pay up, baby!” You said.

“SHIT!” Exclaimed Billy as he pulled a twenty out of his pocket and aggressively slapped it into your hand. He hated to lose at anything. “Are you cheating? I’ve lost like four in a row now!”

“I don’t think I like your tone, lieutenant and I resent your insinuation that I would use our child to cheat.” You said with a narrowed expression and a sly grin.

“Alright, can we call a truce?” Billy said with his hands up.

You snaked and clasped your hands around his neck before inching yourself closer to him. Your lips ghosted over his before you said, “I’ll give you a truce, if you kiss me like you mean it, Mr. Russo.”

Billy touched the tip of his tongue to the roof of his mouth before purring in your ear, “Yes, ma’am.”

Both of your children were growing up, exploring, and doing their own things but you and Billy will always have the wonderful memories of creating and enjoying your beautiful little family.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @fakehappy27 @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @nutmeg17 @k-marzolf @vaguekayla @rosaleenablack @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @aoi-targaryen @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @rachlovesactors @qu1etwolf

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @ittybxttykxttytxtty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso @colereads

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[tropes-and-tales]

A Hundred and One Nights

Characters:  Yautja/Predator x f!reader

CW:  Talk of injuries and illness; talk of death; yearning.  No smut.

Word Count:  4819

Other Pieces:  There is a part two here.

The Yautja aren’t above making mistakes.  When they kidnap a number of elite soldiers and killers from Earth to hunt, you somehow get swept up too.

You, a high school English teacher.  The only things you’ve ever killed are centipedes and a squirrel once that ran under your tires as you drove down the street.  

You were not a killer.

It doesn’t stop the Yautja from making the mistake, which is why you wake up suddenly.  Falling.  Free-falling through a blue sky.  

You’re in a parachute, and it engages just a beat too late.  You crash through the tree cover and land in the underbrush, hard.  You snap your ankle, and the pain that lances through you is so sharp, so urgent, that you finally realize that you aren’t dreaming at all.

-----

There’s others.  They find you.

They leave you.

“She’d only slow us down,” says the one man.  He turns away without a second glance.

“We’ll come back for you,” promises the woman, but she doesn’t meet your eye when she says it.

You wait until they are out of earshot to start crying.  You’re scared and hurt and you have no idea where you are.

But once you’re done, you swipe away your tears and try to come up with a plan.

-----

You were a Girl Scout, so you know basic first aid.  Bush first aid.  You had the badge to prove it.

You snap a few sticks, tear off the bottom hem of your shirt.  You create a rough splint for your ankle, and then you find another, sturdier stick that is forked at the end:  a rough crutch.

It hurts so badly, and progress is slow.  You hobble through the jungle and every step is fraught.  The ground is uneven.  

In the distance, you hear screams, snarls.  You hear a high-pitched whistle.

You have no idea where you are, but some primal part of your brain is activated:  you are in danger, and every cell in your body knows it.

-----

It’s hard to know how much time passes.  

The first night, you make it to the edge of the jungle just as darkness falls.  The stars are in configurations that you’ve never seen before, and your first thought is that you’re in the southern hemisphere.

Moments later, the moon appears over the ridge.

Then a second moon, and later that night, a third.

-----

It’s hard to know how much time passes.

You can do without food for quite a while, but water becomes a problem.  The planet is hot and humid and you sweat so much, and your mouth takes on a desperately dry, sticky quality.

You hobble onward.  You pass another human, a corpse that looks like it’s been there a while.  You’d throw up but your stomach is empty, so it only cramps painfully until you get away from the smell.

You pass giant metal containers with deflated, tangled parachutes.  Other things have been dropped here—big things that required cages.

You find a river and you nearly cry.  You manage to clumsily kneel in the mud and you drink and drink and drink until you throw it all up.  Then you drink some more.

-----

You find an outcropping of rock.  You manage to tear up some saplings to lay across the rock face, giving you some scant camouflage.

You still haven’t eaten.  Your stomach has stopped growling, but you hallucinate food.  You swear you can smell smoke, and underneath it you catch the phantom scent of barbeque, of smoked meats, of charred vegetables with a balsamic glaze, of rich red wines and crisp white ones, of heavy cakes that lie sweet and rich on the tongue, washed down with coffee so dark it makes your toes curl…

You jolt awake with a start.  It’s night and you’ve fallen asleep but there’s flickering orange over the nearest ridge.  Something is on fire.

-----

When you startle awake again, it’s because of an explosion in the sky—a spaceship exploding into a fireball.

-----

It’s hard to know how much time passes.

You catch sight of parachutes in the sky, but you can’t worry about them.  You know you are going to die on this planet, so far from home, but you wonder if any of the creatures being dropped are going to be the ones to kill you.

Maybe.  Maybe not.  The fever might kill you first.

It’s your ankle with the nub of broken bone sticking out of your skin, a sight so distressing that you can’t look at it without getting faint.  

It’s any of the handful of cuts all over your body.  You have no way to disinfect them.  You do your best to clean your wounds in the river, but infection sets in and you grow feverish, sluggish, crazed with heat.

-----

You wake up to a strange clicking sound.  A chittering sound, like an insect might make….if insects were huge.  The air in front of you shimmers and you think it’s the heat of the day, but then there’s a couple of beeps, and it comes into startling, terrifying view.

The thing.  The alien, though on this world, you suppose you are the alien.

The thing hunting you.

You had put it together piece by piece over the past days (weeks?).  The giant planet that seems to be empty save for the creatures dropped in via parachutes.  The humans you dropped in with—all of them elite fighters, from the looks, save the one smaller white guy.  

When you were young, your father and his brothers used to quail hunt.  They’d buy a crate of half-tame birds and then loose them into the grounds around their hunting camp, then pick them off one by one.  This seemed to be the exact same thing.

You’re not upset it (he?) found you.  You’re sick and exhausted and hungry and thirsty, and the infection raging through your body will kill you if he doesn’t.  A bullet to the brain will be quicker and less painful than wasting away.

“S’okay,” you tell him, holding out your empty hands to him in supplication.  “At least…least I got to see another planet.  D-different stars.  Better than…other ways to d-die.”

He tilts his head at you.  Says nothing.  Does nothing.  You lick your cracked lips and try to sit up straighter, but you cry out at the grinding pain of your ankle.  

He doesn’t move—he only watches.

“Figured it out,” you continue.  “Figured out what this is.  Game preserve, right?”  You chuckle, wince against the throb of pain in your head.  “Can’t be much of a trophy for you though, huh?  B-broke my ankle straight away.  W-weak.”

He’s so still that you’d think he was a statue, but the dread-like things on his head sway in the breeze.  

“Like the short story, y’know?  The Most Dangerous Game.  I tell it to my honors students sometimes.  General Zaroff and his hunting hounds, Ship-Trap Island, all the rest….”  You trail off, not sure why you’re babbling at this creature who is only staring at you.

You’re also not sure why he just doesn’t get it over with.  Just kill you already.

“It’s okay,” you tell him.  You shut your eyes, nod your head.  “I’m ready.  You can do it.”

You keep your eyes shut, and each moment that passes, your courage fails you a little more.  You’re sick and already dying, but you want another day, another night, another moment to feel the breeze or see these strange stars or remember all the books you’ve read and loved and mourn those you never got to read, all the movies—

“Tell.  Story.”  You open your eyes at the sound of your own voice, see the creature fiddling with some computer strapped to his arm.  It’s your own words.  Your words, recorded and played back to you.

“Tell.  Rest.  Story,” he repeats, using your words to communicate with you.

“You…you want me to tell you the story?  The Most Dangerous Game?”  You blink and shake your head slightly, sure this is the fever causing you to hallucinate the entire thing.

He nods his head.  Curt.  A single nod.

The fever roars to life in you.  A million emotions:  relief at earning another moment or two of life, disappointment for it to not be over.  Your head feels heavy and light as air at the same time, and your vision starts to waver again, but he’s still standing in front of you, impassive.

“I think—” you start to say, but darkness descends swiftly, and you aren’t aware of much beyond a handful of sensations:  a stabbing, needling pain in your thigh, a rough hand on your face, and your entire body being lifted and carried.

*****

He’s not sure why he saves you.

It wouldn’t be honorable to kill you and consider it an good hunt, but it would be merciful to kill you.  Be’kan can smell you from a distance, the sickly-sweet smell of illness.  You will die soon.  You are a filthy creature when he finds you, slick with sweat and shivering and coated in dirt, but you hold out your hands to show you have no weapons.

And then you fix him with your bright gaze—the fever giving you a crazed look—and you speak to him.

It’s the promise of a story.  Yautja live for the Hunt, but they live for stories nearly as much.  They hunt, then they gather and tell each other stories.  It’s half of why they record their hunts through their masks:  to learn from their prey, but also to glory in the retelling.

The promise of your story.  A story of a hunter.  Be’kan kneels beside your unconscious form and jabs you with needle to kill some of your pain.  Then he lifts you up, throws you over his shoulder, and takes you back to camp.

-----

His brothers tease him.  They share a sire but Be’kan is the eldest, and the younger ones torment him.

“This ooman is already dead, brother.”

“The ooman-di certainly smells dead.”

“Our brother has found a pet to nurse back to health.”

It earns them all a cuff to their heads, a snarled warning, but they chuckle and leave him to it.  Leave him to you.

-----

The needle he gave could heal small wounds, but the fever that burns through you requires something more.

He gives you a second needle’s worth of painkiller, and then he does the only thing that can heal you:  he gives you his blood.  Just a little.  Just enough.

First, though, he has to reset your broken bone.  His blood will course through you fast and hot, and it’ll heal anything in its path.  The bone needs to be set or else it will heal wrong.

You wake up when he hauls your leg into his lap.  You sit up, fold yourself upward towards him, and you try to pull away, not understanding what he’s doing.

“Be still,” he barks, and you freeze—long enough for him to wrap a paw around your leg, the other around your foot, and wrench the broken bones back together.

The shriek you let loose hurts his head, sets a roosting flock of birds alight over the nearby trees.  You’re in so much sudden pain that you grasp his upper arm, you bury your face against his shoulder before you go slack against him, and if love is an especially rare thing for a Yautja, then this is perhaps the moment it enters his bloodstream and starts to infect him, very, very slowly.

*****

You wake to find that you feel better than you have in years:  fever broken, ankle healed.  Your cuts and bruises have all disappeared.

There are three other…things.  Aliens.  Whatever they are, they are tall and broad.  They are packed with muscles and claws, and they have an entire arsenal of weapons on them.

The one who saved you—it doesn’t take long before you think of him as yours.  He is fascinating to look at, certainly ugly by human standards, but he’s fascinating.  Grey-blue in color, dull grey metal mask with a mark etched into it.  Ornaments woven into the dread-like things that sprout from his head:  polished stones and rings of metal and little pieces of bone.

He seems older than the others, though they don’t have any discernable markings of age.  No grey hair, no wrinkles.  He only seems older because he moves slower, more ponderous.  Where the others click and chitter at each other, he makes less noise—but when he does, the others still and listen.

-----

You figure it out—he keeps you alive for your stories.

The first story is the Most Dangerous Game, and he doesn’t seem to listen.  He makes you sit near the fire while he painstakingly polishes and sharpens his bladed weapons.  He makes you tell the story, and he doesn’t seem to listen, but when you trail off halfway through, he cocks his head and makes an irritated clicking at you.  So you finish.

He keeps you alive.  He feeds you, brings you water.  He gives you a wide fur to curl up in while you sleep, and he keeps himself between you and the dark night on the planet.  He keeps you from anything that may try to come out of the darkness and hurt you.

I have become Scheherazade, you think to yourself as you watch him where he lies near you.  I have to tell him stories to save my own life.

*****

Be’kan hunts with his kin, then he listens to your stories at night.  His kin may tease him, but he catches them listening on the sly, eavesdropping as you tell your stories and weave your tales with your words.  You get more and more comfortable each night; you seem to fear him less.

It is odd that you’re such a good storyteller.  He never thought of oomans as such.  They are a clever, sneaky species, but he never knew they had such stories.  And you seem to know them all.  

It is good that you are a good storyteller, because you are otherwise unimpressive.  You’re weak and small, a soft thing.  A ridiculous thing.  Up close, he can see how fragile oomans are:  the hide that tears so easily, the soft claws that cannot slash anything.  Bones too easily snapped.  He learned that lesson when he healed you—he had been too rough and hurt you.  He’d felt a sting of shame—a strange emotion for a Yautja—and vowed to be gentler with you.

Not that he will touch you if he can help it.  You are ugly like all oomans are.  You have no markings.  You have dull teeth and a strange fleshy mouth and wide eyes that leak water.  You are the same as all of your species.

So it’s good that you tell your stories, because otherwise he’d be quit of you:  he’d tear your spine out, and then he’d never again have to tuck you into his furs each night to keep your frail ooman body warm.

*****

It takes a while to calibrate which stories he wants, which…of course he wants stories about hunters and killers and fierce battles.

Which means you run through the standard fare pretty early on.  You tell him the Tale of John McClane, the Tale of Kevin McAllister, the numerous Tales of James Bond.  You turn Indiana Jones into a Nazi hunter instead of an archeologist.  The Lord of the Rings becomes a fellowship intent on hunting down and killing Sauron.  Luke Skywalker is a man out to kill an entire litany of Storm Troopers before he kills his father.  You have him kill the Ewoks too, just for fun.

Your creature….you wonder if sexism exists in his species, so you tell him the Tale of Sarah Connors to see how he reacts to a woman protagonist.  By now, he sits in rapt attention, takes a deep squat near the fire and stares at you as you tell how Sarah Connors starts as the hunted, then ends up the hunter.

He seems to enjoy the story.  He gives a slow nod at the end, as if he’s satisfied.

-----

You try more varied fare.  You tell him the story of Jane Eyre.

He takes the wrong message from it.

He also speaks to you, more than he ever has before.  He usually just gives you one or two word commands in his rough English, but hearing about Jane Eyre?

“No,” he barks, and he shakes his head angrily when you get the part where Jane flees to the moors.

“Well, the story isn’t done—”

“Jane is unworthy,” he spits out.  “A worthy mate would not flee.”

You catch the way his hands flex, the sharp claws that tip his fingers.  The warning growl he makes.

“You have to listen to the rest of the story,” you say carefully, and for the first time in the history of gothic romance novels, Jane Eyre regroups on the moors, and then stalks back to Thornfield Hall to kill Bertha Mason and prove herself a worthy mate to Mr. Rochester.

The next night, you decide to not test your luck.

“To survive a war, you gotta become war,” you tell him as you settle by the fire.  “Let me tell you a story about a man named John Rambo.”

-----

How many stories do you tell?  Fifty?  A hundred?  It’s hard to tell.  Sometimes you stretch out a story across nights, a tactic that seems to infuriate him—he snarls, he roars behind his mask, he stalks away—but then he seems more eager the next night, more eager to sit by you and listen.

And he is more willing to answer your questions, so you learn too.

His kind are called Yautja.  He is called Be’kan, a name that comes out of his mouth like a bark.  In his language of clicks and trills, it means Thundering Blade, which maybe explains why he enjoys stories with swords so much.

You tell him your name.  You tell him, as best you can, what you did on Earth.  He seems to interpret it as you being a storyteller of great fame, which makes you laugh—you barely made enough to live on your teaching salary, and your student loans would follow you into your dotage.

One night, he reaches up and undoes the grey metal mask he wears.  He removes it and shows you his real face:  an ugly thing by human standards, but just as fascinating as the rest of him.  Small, close-set eyes so yellow they look like molten gold.  Two pairs of tusks set around his mouth.

He doesn’t say anything and neither do you, but you get the very real sense that this is a moment of intimacy between the two of you.  That he’s showing you a part of himself that many don’t get to see outside of his own kind.

*****

Be’kan can’t account for what he feels for you.

Yautja don’t love.  Their breeding is a violent, painful thing.  The females—larger, stronger—fight the males, kill the males to ensure they only breed with the strongest and most worthy.  It is the same with the raising of their young:  there’s no sentiment or cuddling once a pup is no longer a suckling.

You are a soft, small thing.  Ugly and weak.  And yet you’ve cracked open some hard part of him that makes him hurt when he thinks of parting from you.

And yet…he knows he has to.

He’s reviewed the data around the sweep that took you from your planet.  It was a mistake, unthinkable yet real.  You had crossed paths with a man that day—a certain man who had killed many in one of your kind’s wars.  A man who had returned from war and kept killing.  

You lived in the same building.  You had no way of knowing.

The Yautja meant to take that man, that killer, but they took you.

Be’kan knows he has to take you back.  His honor will allow him nothing else:  you are no killer, you are not worthy prey.  You are an exalted storyteller, a worthy position in his own society, so you must be returned to your own.

And yet, in that cracked-open place, he wants to forget his honor and keep you with him.  He wants to tuck you into his furs each night and lie nearby, keeping guard over you.  He wants to listen to your stories and answer your questions about his kind.  

He wants you to fix him with that bright gaze of yours with those too-wide eyes that sometimes get watery. You see him and you don’t recoil though he is surely as ugly to you as you are to him.

He plans with his kin:  they will return home in their ship, and he will take you back to Earth in his own before he joins them.  It isn’t a long journey.

Then he tells you, and you don’t react the way he thought you might.

You frown.  Then you go quiet.

That night, when he settles near you at the fire, you don’t tell him a story.  And when he asks, you turn away from him.

“I don’t have any more stories,” you tell him.  Then you curl up on your side, your knees to your chest, and Be’kan realizes he knows nothing at all about the ooman-di who has cracked open a part of him and left him aching and empty.

*****

Life back on Earth doesn’t resume quite so smoothly.  Turns out, when you are missing for months and then suddenly resurface, people have questions.

The government has questions.  Countless men and women in dark suits interrogate you, and since you can’t think of a single plausible reason other than the truth, you tell them the truth:  that you were on an alien planet being hunted by aliens.

They don’t seem shocked, which shocks you.

-----

The U.S. government relocates you to a different part of the country as a fresh start.  You keep your own name, and you still teach, but the government gives you a nice little house set back near the edge of a forest and a nice little monthly stipend to keep your mouth shut about your alien abduction.

Your new life is the same as your old.  You teach, you go home at night.  You make dinner and you read or watch a movie, then you go to bed.

Repeat day after day.

-----

You find that you miss him.  It makes no sense.  Maybe it’s Stockholm Syndrome, but it felt right to be there.  On Earth, you always felt a step out of sync with other humans.  You understood jokes a beat too late to laugh; you didn’t find joy in a lot of the things others did.  You struggled to date, struggled to make friends.  You had been alone for much of your life.

It was a simpler life, those few months.  

Sleep curled up in warm furs, tell stories to keep your place with him.  Look up at the night sky to see strange stars and create your own constellations with their own stories.  Learn the hand signals he and his brothers give each other, learn what their different trills and clicks mean.

Then he took you on his ship and brought you back to Earth.

The night before you arrived back on Earth, he had opened a chamber on his ship.  He stepped into it and gestured for you to join him, held his big paw of a hand out to you and you had taken it, tried to ignore how it felt when he closed his hand around yours, as gentle as if he were cupping a bird.

Then he placed his other hand on your back, just a gentle.  Pulled you into the room and turned you to look at the display along the wall.

It was covered in skulls.  Polished and mounted, so many different types that you gasped.  

It had the same charged feel as when he had removed his mask.  It was an intimacy that you guessed was rare.

You studied each skull closely, except for the one that was obviously human.  You reached out and touched the sharp teeth and tusks of each, murmured at how dangerous each hunt must have been, how good a hunter he was.

You knew enough of Yautja sounds by then to know that the deep purring he made was pride.

-----

When you curl up in your bed each night, you miss the soft furs and the foreign stars in the sky over you.

You think of when he landed on Earth and left you.  How he had reached out a hand to grasp your face, gently.  How he had pressed the tip of one claw carefully to your lower lip as if he were testing how it felt.

-----  

You spend one weekend building a fire pit in your backyard.  You dig out a shallow bowl in the earth, line it with flat stones.  You create a ring around the bowl with rocks.  You spend a few hours in the woods behind your home, dragging large branches back, cutting them up with a bow saw.

You build a fire that night.  You wrap yourself in a blanket and stare into the flickering orange flames while your muscles ache from the hard work.

It’s not the same but you try.  “Let me tell you about a woman we’ll call the Bride, who went on a journey of revenge with a magical sword,” you murmur to the flames, and it’s easy to pretend that he’s just at the edge of the firelight, crouched down and listening in his still, intent way.

*****

Be’kan is not a Young Blood anymore, so he’s surprised to find that he is still capable of having the inner turmoil, the unsettled emotions of a much younger Yautja.

He had recorded many of your stories through his mask, but it’s not the same.  The stories become flat and lifeless in the recordings.  They don’t capture the magic you wove each night when you told them.  And they don’t capture after the stories, when you’d curl up by the fire and when he’d lie a distance away, near enough to hear your deep breathing and the pitiful whimpers you sometimes made when you twitched and kicked in your sleep as you dreamed.

You belong with your own kind.  You are a master; you teach the younglings of your kind with your stories.  He knows this, yet he thinks of other oomans—their sly, sneaky ways, their treachery.  How quickly your kind was willing to abandon you to suffer during the hunt.  Then he rages at them, thinks they do not deserve you.

-----

It’s hard to know how much time passes.  How many cycles in his ship, on his hunts account for the cycles on Earth.

He’s no longer a Young Blood, but a restlessness comes over him.  He hunts with his kin.  He hunts alone.  He takes new trophies and cleans them, hangs them in his trophy room, but even here he thinks of you.  He showed you his trophies and you had praised him, called him a great hunter, and he had trilled in pride.  

He replays the stories you told.  He replays the night he told you he was going to take you home, and how you had reacted.

You should have been happy to return to your own kind.  He thinks, perhaps, he understands why now.

*****

Sitting around the fire becomes your way of unwinding in the evenings.  A glass of wine, the warmth of the fire.  You can look up and see the stars, even if they are the same ones you have always known.

When you hear that strange, clicking growl one night, you think it’s an auditory hallucination.  There’s no way he’s here, no way he’s found you—

But he’s a hunter.  He’s an apex predator, so when the air in front of you shimmers and then reveals him, you can’t really be that surprised.

What surprises you is how hard your heart leaps to see him.  How quickly you spring to your feet and take those few steps to stand in front of him.  You stop at the last minute, but you very nearly tackle him—as if you could, with how big he is—in a hug.

“You’re here,” you breathe out, and he makes the clicking, chuffing sound that you’ve always thought of as his version of laughter.  But then it cuts off, and he tilts his head at you.

“Be’kan was unworthy,” he growls at you.  “A worthy mate would not have fled.”

[zweetpea]

Freedom or Anarchy? Part 2 of 2

Cw: cringe, swears, innuendos. Mondstadt arc has concluded. Next chapter will hopefully be out by Monday. (Expect Monday or Tuesday)

‘Where am I?’

‘What happened to me?’

‘I wanna go home!’

“Time to get up.” You hear someone call. The voice sounds familiar, deep and most likely male (you don’t want to assume). 

You open your eyes and see blue. You’re still groggy from Albedo’s tea so you can’t really stand. Someone picks you up, supporting you under your legs and you back. 

‘Hang on, if this is Mondstadt… the only man with blue here is.’ “Kae…ya?” You say groggily. 

“She speaks… or are you a he? Hard to tell.” He sets you down on a couch in an office.

“This is the terrorist Albedo gave us?” Lisa asks. You can’t quite move but you aren’t as tired as before. 

“We’ll have to tie… him? Her? …Ah up! Tie up the terrorist.” Jean says. 

“Them… I’m gender fluid. I go by them. Sometimes I’m a he, sometimes I’m a she. But my pronouns are always them.”

“Well, at least we’re getting answers.” Lisa giggles. 

You say as Kaeya binds your wrists and ankles with rope. You lean forward onto him and whisper to only him. “Tighter, daddy~” 

“Sky, where did you say that Light and Paimon ran off to?” Kaeya asks, embarrassed and blushing. 

“We’ve met Barbatos, they went off to find him.” Aether says. That’s right, the twins didn’t tell anybody their real names. 

“We’re back! And we’ve brought a friend!” Paimon cheers. 

“Obviously this goes without saying but no one can mention this man’s true identity, okay.” Jean states with a harsh tone that you’ve never heard from her before. Everyone nods, except for you. 

Venti walks towards you and you look at him. “Are you the one Celestia fears?” 

“I have no idea what that means.” 

“The descender, the honored one, the adored one. Do any of these names ring a bell?” 

“No?” 

“Do not lie to me! Albedo said-” 

“Why the F you lyin’~ why you always lyin’~” 

“…” 

“Sorry I have a tendency to reference memes and vines. I’m Gen Z, it’s a part of who we are. I’m kidding, I think that’s just me.” 

“So the Adored One has a name, Jen.”

“No that’s-” 

“And these “Me-ms” and “vines” must be your sacred texts! You’re a nature spirit aren’t you!”

“No! And for the record I don’t think you are a god!” 

“Wow, the honored one looks down upon me.” 

“Boys, Girls, and squirrels, listen up! Because I’ll only say this once. I’m not from this world. I want to go home. The world I come from none of you are real.” 

“Honored one, saying “Boys, Girls, and squirrels” doesn’t help your claim that you aren’t a nature spirit.” 

“Oh for Shucks sake. Actually can I swear in here? I don’t think so. Hell! Bullshit! Kaeya’s tight Ass! Lisa’s big boobies! Mmhmm boobies~” you start to laugh maniacally. “I need to be put in a mental hospital.” 

“Oh for the love of-” Lumine cuts herself off and goes up to you then shakes your. “Pull yourself together long enough for us to get answers.” 

“Right, right. I’m just a college kid who majored in computer science and engineering. The world I come from you all are a game and I hacked into your code which brought me here. That “Boys, Girls, and squirrels” comment comes from a YouTuber I watch semi frequently.”

(A/n: Danny Motta is his name. He’s pretty funny. Go check him out) 

“How’d you heal Stormterror then.” Aether asked. 

“The sustainer of heavenly principles gave me her powers.” 

“So… none of us are real?” Amber asks. 

“Well, I don’t know how I’d be here if you guys weren’t real but to me you’re just a game. Any of you can be killed and revived at the Statue of the Seven.” 

“I suppose that does poke holes in my credibility as an archon.” Venti twiddles his thumbs. 

“Can I please leave now? I can take Dvalin with me and we can just leave.” 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. If Stormterror is still enraged we can’t let him destroy other nations. It could spark an all out war.” Jean says. 

“What if we let them stay at that broken down building?” Aether suggests. 

“I still think that we should keep Jen here just in case Stormterror gets any more ideas about attacking Mondstadt.” 

“So we use Jen as a bargaining chip?” Lumine chimes in. 

“Exactly.” 

“Okay if you guys are going to call me Jen can you at least make it Gen with a G? I want to be different.” 

“But Jean! Isn’t that basically asking Stormterror for a fight?�� 

“Amber’s right Jean. If we’re going to keep them here we’ll need a plan to tame Stormterror.” Lisa says. 

“I’ll tame him.” Venti says assuredly. “We just have to keep them here long enough for me to calm him down.” 

“BARBATOS!” Dvalin calls from outside. “GIVE ME BACK WHATS MINE!” 

“Everyone! To your stations! Protect the city at all costs!” Jean shouts and everyone rushes from the room. 

“Shit! I have to get out of here!” 

“Master Jean! I’m scared!” Klee runs into the office. 

“Klee! Perfect timing, I’m your brother’s friend.”

“Your big brother Albedo’s friend? Why are you tied up?” 

“It’s a long story. Right now I need you to untie me so I can save everyone.” 

“You can do that? I don’t know, usually only bad people are tied up.” 

“No no! Klee it’s more complicated. You want to save Albedo and Jean and Kaeya, Lisa, Amber, Razor and everyone else right? Then you have to untie me so I can make Stormterror go away.” 

“How do I know that you aren’t lying?” 

‘If gold knows me. Chances are Alice will too.’ “Your mom knows me. I’m the adored one. You can ask her about me.” 

“Mom knows you?”

“Yeah, and you know about Albedos secret lab in the mountains right? I’ve been there. He told me about how much he cared about you.” 

“You’ve gone there?! You really do know Albedo. Okay!” She comes over and unties you. 

“Thanks.” You go over to the window, open it up and shout. “Dvalin!” He comes rushing to you at your cry and you jump out the window and grab onto his tail. 

He flies towards the woods and you land in a stone arena. “Andrius! I need a favor.” 

“What could the East Wind possibly want from me?” 

“Protect the Adored one at all costs. 

“How can this puny human be the Adored one?”

As the two bicker you quietly sneak away. As you climb out of the arena you stop when you see black boots and look up. 

“Who are you.” Diluc looks down at you. 

“I am iron man.” 

“Iron man?” Dvalin roses as he and Andrius start to brawl. 

“Can you get me out of here?” 

“Are you the one rumored to have healed Stormterror?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Come on.” He grabs your arm and hoists you up. He then picks you up and throws you over his shoulder and starts to run. 

“Hey! Am I just a sack of potatoes to you?” 

“Quiet down or they’ll hear us.” He runs and runs until you two get to a water bank. “Follow this past west and you’ll be in Liyue.” He tells you as he sets you down. 

“Oh wow. My own dark knight. How romantic. Well for saving the fair ward of the dragon you get a kiss, as a reward.” 

“No thank you.” He grimaces at you. 

“Oh come on! I was promised debauchery! You’re no fun.” 

“Just leave.” 

“Thanks for saving me! I’m coming back for that kiss though!” You say as you run off. 

‘Hot dragon archon here I come! Please be like a lizard and have two co-‘

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Make Some Noise｡⋆.

Eddie Munson x plus size reader

Eddie just wants to hear you scream for him

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, back shots, reader doesn’t make a lot of noise, established relationship, praise, fluff

WC: 671

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You were quiet, everyone knew that. You loved the silence and being able to listen to the world around you without the sound of your own voice disturbing the peace. Sure, you spoke when you needed to but you found that silent communication worked just as well as talking.

And everyone was fine with that, but not Eddie Munson, your friend of three years and boyfriend of almost 8 months.

Eddie longed to hear your voice- whether that be just you telling him about the fat squirrel you saw outside your bedroom window, or you singing along to the radio as he drove you to dinner, or even just hearing you speak quietly to yourself.

But most of all, he wanted to hear you scream for him.

Your nails dug into his back as he thrust forward, forcing himself even deeper inside you. “Shit.” He growled, burying his face into the crook of your neck. The fat head of his cock hit that spongy part inside of you that made you see stars.

“Mhm.” You moaned but quickly bit down on your lip to keep the noise inside. Eddie's hips stuttered and you keened again. 

His hands squeezed your wide hips tightly. “F-fuck do that again.” But you stubbornly kept your mouth clamped shut even as he picked up his pace, desperately trying to get more sounds out of you. He could feel the beginnings of your moans catching in your throat and he wanted so badly to hear them.

You whined softly as he abruptly pulled out of your cunt, making you clench around nothing. “Come on, let me hear you moan.” A long curly strand of hair was plastered to his forehead, his brown eyes even darker in the dim light of his bedroom. You shook your head and attempted to pull him back into you but Eddie just frowned.

“Alright, I guess if you aren’t gonna moan, I’m gonna have to make you scream.” Your vision spun and suddenly you were on your front, face pressed into his pillows as your hips were pulled upwards. You barely had a second to orient yourself before Eddie slammed back inside of you, his thick cock punching into your cervix as he buried himself to the hilt.

The air was knocked so quickly from your lungs, you couldn’t even manage a small squeak. A strong hand on your shoulder kept your upper body pinned to the mattress as Eddie drilled into you. Your mind was going hazy.

“C’mon princess, I know you need to let out all those pretty noises.” You gasped and you were rewarded with two of his fingers against your swollen clit. 

“Eddie! Oh god!” You howled, your voice broken with pleasure. “Please! Please! Please!” Each word was forced from you with each powerful thrust.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl. Taking my cock so well.” He cooed. “See how good it feels when you let me hear you.”

“So good!” The knot in your belly began to tighten even faster, your cunt cleaning down on his thick cock as tightly as she could. Eddie groaned.

“Cum for me princess. Cum on my cock.” 

Your scream of ecstasy carried through the empty trailer like a siren’s call, pushing Eddie over the edge of his own orgasm, filling you up with his cum. 

“Shit baby.” He collapsed on top of you with a huff. He kissed your overheated cheek and then rolled off of you. His hand immediately found a place on your bare ass. 

You turned your head to him with a glare. “Don’t go quiet on me now. You were certainly making a whole lot of noise a minute ago.” He teased. “Think I could record it next time? Your voice would make a great backing song.”

Ignoring your scornful look, Eddie reached over the side of the bed and grabbed the tape recorder he used when he was playing with melodies. “C’mon princess, give me a sample.” He yelped when you kicked him in the shin.

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[oonajaeadira]

Leave Off Your Wandering pt. 2: Summer

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

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

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

Rating: T for now

Warnings: Hunting and skinning squirrels. Chemical burns to skin. Piercing injury. Joel being a dick in a moment of self-preservation. Ellie's still a swear-mouth. Everybody makes some mistakes.

Summary: You solve a problem for Ellie and Joel really doesn't take it well.

A/N: Set after season 1 and then diverges. Does not acknowledge the existence of further plot/seasons, although I claim the right to steal ideas and bits of cannon from the second game if I want to for plot reasons later.

Listen. I know those warnings up there seem like a bit much, but I promise you all of that is in passing, in service to the plot, and not described in detail. (With the exception Ellie's cussing. That will persist indefinitely.) This is stupid fluffy.

Your gut reaction is to fetch your gun and point it at Ellie’s head.

But the girl is calm.

And the bites are healed.

“Wanna shoot me, don’t you,” she challenges with a mismatched set of cocky mouth and world weary eyes. “This one happened before I met Joel. And this one the day after. This is why he took me to the Fireflies. He told me not to tell anyone. That’s why I freaked out.”

Earlier in the day you’d gone looking for Ellie, hoping to show her the honeybee hive you’d discovered at the edge of the meadow. She’d been bathing in the stream, stripped down to nothing. She’d shrieked when she saw you coming near and you’d laughed and kept your eyes averted, understanding the self-consciousness of teenagers, about to tell her to come and find you when she was done.

And then she roared.

“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME! GO!”

It had been a punch to the heart if not a slap to the face, which you were certain by her tone you would have received had you been close enough.

Saying nothing, and simply obeying her wish, you’d turned and gone back to the Roost. Ellie stayed away so long that her hair was completely dry and her nose was sunburned when she finally joined you.

Every footfall had been an apology on the ladder. And every slow creak along the porch was following an olive branch to the broken down sofa you perched on to keep watch over the north meadow.

Taking a reticent seat beside you, she’d rolled up her sleeve. “I’m sorry I yelled. I didn’t want you to see it. It’s kind of a life and death thing.”

“Obviously,” you answer, shellshocked. “Reaction warranted.” Dropping her arm to her lap and reaching up to pull down her cuff, you stop her, holding out a waiting hand. “Can I?”

Suddenly doe-eyed and struck by your acceptance, she nods and lays her forearm in your palm.

There’s instinctual revulsion at first, but it melts to wonder as you get a closer look at the scars. There’s nothing of skin breakage, no mycelium running underneath, nothing reaching for you through holes as there would be if you were having one of your nightmares.

Immunity. Statistically speaking, it had to exist, but she’s the first you’ve ever seen or heard of.

“I wondered why you’d choose to wear long sleeves in this heat. I see now. Joel was smart to tell you to keep it covered. This’ll get you killed faster than infection, that’s for sure.” The tendons in her arm flex involuntarily when you run your fingers over the marks. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to tickle.” She relaxes as you release her. This time she doesn’t move to cover the skin. “Out in the open with Joel, I can imagine why you were bit the second time. How’d you come by it the first time?”

“Messing around with a friend where I wasn’t supposed to.”

Ah. By the pull at her brow and the same laws of statistics, you’d hazard to guess that friend didn’t make it. Probably another kid like her. Tragic.

“I see. And that’s why you were being smuggled. That’s why they wanted you. Well, what did the Fireflies make of you?”

She clearly catches the way you slather contempt onto the name of the terrorist organization, but answers your question. “They wanted to make a cure from my blood. They had me on the operating table but raiders attacked the hospital and killed everyone while I was under. So I guess we missed our chance.”

A quiet minute passes as you watch her tracing her thumb over the scar, lost in thought, brow twisted, recounting the ordeal of that day. Something doesn’t sit right with her about it.

And neither does it sit right with you.

Doctors don’t put a person on an operating table just to draw blood.

And you’ve heard stories of what Joel’s capable of.

You’ve witnessed just how protective he is over this little girl.

Her reverie dissolves when you lay a gentle hand on her shoulder. “While I’m sorry they never got the chance to find the possibilities, I understand enough about research medicine to know that the likelihood of their finding a cure from just one person is almost impossible. So while they might have been able to study your blood, they most likely wouldn’t be able to get enough of it or keep it stable long enough to find any answers.”

“How do you know that?”

Over the next hour as the sun sinks in the sky and she soaks up your history, you tell her about your sister. How you and her and Maria were a tight-knit team growing up, how in love with Maria she was, how you were certain they were going to get married one day.

Then you tell her how Maria went off to law school and your sister got sick, that the cancer was rare and the treatment was long and expensive, so your parents had opted for research to fray some costs and keep the ranch.

In the end, there were no answers, not without more donors of her ilk.

Your parents took a loan against the ranch, knowing full well they would lose it, but everyone agreed it was worth it for whatever time it would buy her.

And then Jakarta fell. And the world went to hell.

A few of the elderly residents of the Jackson basin came to hole up on the ranch and most of Willa’s family and tribal branch moved over from their land to form a protective new family group. It worked for a few years. It was safe. It was a thriving little commune.

And then the Fireflies came.

“There were Fireflies out here too?”

“Oh yeah, they were in every QZ, spreading their lies and chaos through the telegram towers, recruiting poor young suckers wherever they took root and getting them all killed. You tangled with them and I’d say you’re lucky you’re alive.”

Ellie frowns down at her arm again. “What did they do when they came here?”

Another story then. Now you explain with a little less nostalgia how the Fireflies came to use your ranch as a base. Trucks coming and going at all hours. Gunshots in the night. Catching the attention of roving packs of raiders. People got hurt. People died.

There was one day when two Fireflies went out foraging mushrooms with old Ms. Celia. They brought her body back on a makeshift sled. Just keeled over, they said.

Funny how the same thing happened the week before with old Ms. Margie. What a coincidence that it was happening when the food supplies were running low.

But the last blow came when the ranch was attacked by raiders a third time. There was a plan in place to create a distraction, draw their attention away from the ranch. The Fireflies knew your sister was sick and designated she do the job. They put a gun to your head when you protested.

It’s okay, she’d said, I don’t have much left to lose. If I’m going out, at least the people I love will be safe.

It was a shit plan.

A lot of people died that day. Most of them were raiders, thanks to Willa and her tribe. Some of them were Fireflies thanks to you and your shotgun.

“So did you win?”

“No. The barriers were still broken. And the ranch was burned to the ground.”

The evening sky is a mix of purples and gold now, the flocks of birds swooping over the meadow are starting to vie for their meal of mosquitos and gnats with an increasing number of bats. Ellie watches one in particular as it swoops up and over the roof of the Roost.

“What about your parents?”

“They burned with the ranch.”

She nods solemnly, without horror, the attitude of a child that’s seen too much.

“And your sister died too then?”

"She got away at first. Found her in the woods a week later with a bite like yours, but she was long gone by then. One of Willa’s brothers did the shooting.”

Another quiet nod. “What was your sister’s name?” she asks as an evening bird calls.

It was bound to come up.

“Eleanor. We called her Ell. Ellie, when she was little.” When you can see the unearned guilt building in her face you bump her shoulder playfully. “It was almost twenty years ago. I hold onto the good memories. She was sweet and kind to everyone she met, never backsassed our parents, never disobeyed. So basically nothing like you at all.” You laugh when she shoots you an annoyed look. “Not that she was an angel though! She had her fire; you didn’t want to get on her bad side. And she was whip smart. That’s where the two of you meet I think.”

“Sounds like you lost everything at once.”

“I did,” a fact you aknowledge as you stretch and get up, heading back into the cabin to light the lantern. “But Willa helped me through. And then Jackson got its walls up and Maria found her way home and I had family again.” Once the lantern flickers to life, you grab your bag and start pawing through it. “You keep going for family.”

“That’s what Joel says.”

“Huh. You know what? I believe you. Here,” pulling a tank top out of your pack you toss it at her and it smacks her in the face. “While you’re out here you can wear that and not die of heat stroke in those knit tops. But when you’re out in the sun, put something over your shoulders or use the tsuga paste. Your skin hasn’t seen sun in a while and the last thing I need to do is bring you back cooked like a Christmas goose and have Joel all up in my ass about it.”

“That actually sounds like a good thing for both of you, if you ask me.”

“Watch it.”

“What? I didn’t say anything! Look at the time! We should be spinning wool! How I love spinning wool. Whoopee!”

“Like I said. Nothing like my sister. You little shit.”

________

“Meadowlark to patrol.”

“This is patrol.”

“Starling and I are on the southeast side of the meadow near the chokecherry copse and we’ve found a honeybee hive. I’m going to tie red flags to the surrounding trees. You wanna put the word out that some of these cherries are ready to go and get someone suited out here to scope out this hive?”

“This will make four hives now.”

“I know. We’re getting lucky this year.”

“Will do, Meadowlark. We’ll radio in before we cross borders.”

“Copy. Out.”

On the way back to the Roost you and Ellie stop to greet a group of sheep lazing in the grass, sitting down and sharing cherries with them from a basket between the two of you.

“They can eat these?” she asks.

“Sure. They can pretty much eat whatever we do. Chokecherries are fine. Just don’t give ‘em the leaves or stems. Those are poisonous.”

This means taking the time to pull cherries away from the branches until there’s a handful to feed the sheep. Normally you’d be fending them off during this, they’d be insistent and impatient, but the heat of the day has them lazy and languid.

It’s also working on Ellie as she yawns, stretching her white arms plastered in pine and sunflower paste for protection, her scar marring her otherwise unburned forearm.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” you hand her another branch to start shucking. “Willa does tattoos. She could cover that for you.”

Ellie hesitates. “Maybe.”

“What. You don’t want a tattoo? I thought you might like that. It would be pretty badass. We could cover it with a starling or something….”

“I guess.” You wait for her excuse. It’s a decent one. “I just…It would mean Willa would know too. Joel told me not to tell anyone. I don’t think I should.”

“I understand. That’s kinda why I suggested Willa. The woman’s a vault.” But Ellie’s fingers stop picking berries, as if she doesn’t know what to do or what to say. “Oh. I see. You don’t want Joel to know you told anyone. Even me.”

She nods.

She changes the subject then–something about him wanting to keep her safe, even teaching her to use a shotgun to protect herself–but your mind keeps working on the problem.

It’s only when you make it back to the ladder at the Roost, one foot frozen on the bottom rung, that you find the answer.

“What’s wrong?” she asks from behind you.

Under the posts of the Roost is a load of firewood. And under that wood….

“Ellie…if there was another way to get rid of your scar, would you?”

“What. You gonna give me some kinda bird tattoo yourself? Is it gonna look like a blob or–”

“I mean, do you want it gone at all?”

She pulls herself out of her slouched position to her full height. “I mean…yeah…I think a tattoo is actually a great idea I just…”

“What if Willa didn’t have to know? What if she thought she was covering up something else?” Pulling a few armfulls of wood away from the side of the pile, you uncover a wide plank of wood, once a handsome cedar coffee table top, now a sunken excuse for a forest cellar door. Prying the wood out of its depression, you reveal an earthen pit housing a couple of shovels, a couple pairs of oilskin mittens, and a covered earthen pot.

“This,” you point to the pot, “is lye. We keep it out here in case one of the sheep dies from infection or illness. It’s important to bury the sheep to keep it away from the flock. But even if you bury a carcass, bear and coyotes will come sniffing around and dig it up. We discourage that with this. Lye breaks down organic matter. That’s why we have gloves in here. It burns skin.”

Ellie frowns into the pit, understanding slowly dawning until she asks with a gasp, “Does it hurt?”

“Hells yes it does. It’s a burn, Ellie. It hurts like a son of a bitch, there’s no way I’d lie about that. But it will twist the features of that scar. You’ll never have to dodge suspicion again.”

“Mother. Fucker,” her whisper shakes, but she eyes the pot in steady fascination.

“You know what?” You throw the tabletop back down over the hole, “I saw a whole lot of squirrels around those chokecherries and they’re actually good eating if you get a few of them and throw ‘em in a pot with some potatoes and onion and garlic…. Too bad their skins are too small to be useful. But we can’t just leave ‘em lying around, you know. So if you and I were to go out and get a few and make a stew, and say I was to show you how the lye works with the leavings… well, something might happen.” The girl looks you dead in the eye, her jaw dropping open a little in disbelief. “What do you say? You wanna go out and do some target practice? Get some squirrel for dinner?”

A switch flips in Ellie’s spine and her eyes spark cold and bright, two supernovas in a smiling galaxy.

“Fuck yes. I’ll get the rifle.”

________

“Good shot!” you cheer as a third squirrel drops from a branch and you share a high five. “Wonder who taught you that! Damn, girl! Three for three. Tonight, we feast.”

“So, when are we doing this?��� Ellie smiles as you walk back to the Roost, the barrel of the rifle slung over one shoulder, a string of fuzzy dinner swinging from the other.

“Tomorrow morning. Willa will be coming in at noon and that should give us some time to get a good burn in before she arrives. It should be fine, but if anything goes wrong, she can help and that makes me feel better about it. Ellie…. You sure you trust me with this?”

“I can’t die from it, right?”

“No, but you might want to. It’s sure as hell not gonna be pleasant.”

“Lady, I spent half a year walking across the country with Joel. I’m a master at dealing with unpleasant.” By now the sheep are familiar with the sound of Ellie’s laughter and a few perk up on your way past to follow you lazily back to the Roost. “But, like, I don’t understand why we have to go through all this with the squirrels. Don’t get me wrong, I like the target practice and all…”

You take the squirrels from her and set up a makeshift butcher’s block on a stump left waist high specifically for this purpose. “I don’t want to lie to Joel when he freaks out about you getting hurt. We had squirrels. We disposed of the leavings. You got burned with the lye. Truth truth truth.”

“You think he’ll be mad at you?”

“Oh, I’m already counting that into the equation. I know you seem to think he’s fond of me, but not all the evidence leads up to that. You know how to clean a squirrel?”

“Sure do,” she grins as she trades the rifle for your boot knife and, taking the first rodent in hand, she works it skillfully, tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth, skinning the critter in one go. “Thanks, little buddy. You were cute, but you’ll be gooooooood eating.”

“You’re a hell of a kid.”

“Yeah, well, guess who taught me this?” she says as she morbidly slices through another one, making dramatic death noises as she goes. “Why do you think he doesn’t like you? Joel’s stupid about you. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

“Jesus, Ellie.” With a sigh and a shake of the head, you indulge her question and your own immature angst. “Well, for starters, I can tell he doesn’t think much of some of my conversation.”

“What do you mean?” Another skin lands at her feet.

“He just…doesn’t answer questions sometimes. Ignores comments. Doesn’t like to join in on the joke.”

“This is a big one,” she grunts, tugging at the final squirrel. “What side are you standing on when he ignores you?”

“Huh?”

“Where are you standing when you talk to Joel? He’s deaf in his right ear.”

You blink.

And suddenly a hell of a lot of things make a hell of a lot of sense.

That one time you complimented his shirt and he said nothing, you were on his right.

That one time you poked fun at his scowl. On his right.

You cracked that joke, offered a piece of pie, told him everything would be alright.

Right. Right. Right.

“I…didn’t know that,” you stammer stupidly, flinching when Ellie hands your knife back and heads for the ladder.

“Yeah, that was obvious. I’m gonna go get a bowl.” You’re still in shock as she starts climbing. “Don’t expect him to get down on one knee when he asks you to marry him; he’s got shitty knees too. He’s happy to complain about it if you ask him. Make sure it’s in his left ear.”

________

“Okay, look at me, Ellie. Breathe.”

She nods, her eyes burning with determination over the shirt you’ve tied around her nose and mouth to protect her from inhaling the mix.

As you sit in the grass a few meters from the stream with her arm resting in your mittened hands, you lay the lye-laden cloth over the scar and enclose it with pressure.

Her breath comes heavily. Bravely. Then you hear it change as the lye begins to work.

“Shit. It itches,” she hisses. “Shit. Shit shit fuck fuck ow it’s getting worse–”

“You want me to stop?”

“No shit fuck I can do this I got this shiiiiiiiiiit!”

“I won’t let you go too long but you let me know if you need–”

“I’m fine! FUCK!”

It’s when she screams that you know it’s enough and releasing her, you order, drill sergeant style, “Go! Go! Go! Fifteen minutes! Don’t look at it!”

Ellie bolts into the ice cold stream, sneakers and all, gasping as the water washes the cloth away from her. “Shit. I thought it would feel better. It doesn’t!”

“Does it feel worse?”

“No, it just fucking burns!”

A sigh of relief. “Well, that’s good. Just… just let it rinse. Do you feel woozy at all?”

She just shakes her head, looking down through the water. “It’s getting red. And puffy.”

“No broken skin?”

“No.”

“Good. It’ll probably blister up some.”

Ellie might not be feeling woozy, but you sure are. Was it a reckless idea? Probably. Will it actually work? Hopefully. Do you feel bad that she’s gonna be in pain for a while? Fuck yes. But then you remember when she put on your tank top and just … laid in the grass and smiled. Even if she never wore short sleeves again, at least nobody was going to make a fast decision with a gun to her skull.

You really should have checked with Joel though. No matter what Ellie wants, you know full well it wasn’t your call to make.

Another problem for another day.

“Everything okay down there?” Willa’s black braids glint in the sun as she walks down from the Roost.

“Ellie had a run in with the lye,” you call back.

“Yeah, I see you were composting. I filled in the hole.” She hardly even stops when she reaches you, simply pulls off her boots and heads straight into the water. “Let’s see. Oh yeah. That’s a burn alright.”

As Willa inspects Ellie’s submerged arm, the girl looks up and smiles at you, giving you a wet thumbs up. “Hurts like a motherfucker!"

“I’ll bet,” the woman hums dryly. “That’s going to swell up and scar pretty bad. Why don’t you sit and let the water do its work. Meadowlark and I will go pack your things and I’ll grab the gauze in the first aid kit.”

Willa doesn’t ask questions as you pack up, just the regular routine of information trade off. You tell her that you’ve marked a few sheep with blue dye to keep an eye on for injuries or dehydration. And she lets you know what’s going on in town, including the fact that there’s gonna be a wedding with a reception at the food hall over the weekend.

“Really? Who?”

“Bear and Missy Tippet.”

“Your uncle??? Willa, I can stay; don’t you wanna be there?”

She laughs. “Hell no I do not. You know exactly how I feel about Missy Tippet; same as you. I’d rather be out here. Perfect timing. They’ve been keeping each other warm on and off for years now. Maybe this will finally keep her on. As much as I hate to picture that,” she shivers.

Willa’s such an even-keeled soul and it’s not just anyone she’ll shit talk in front of. “Well, your secret’s safe with me. If it is a secret that is.”

“What’s a secret?” Ellie interrupts as she pulls herself up to the balcony from the ladder with one hand.

Willa takes a little time to show her the correct way to bandage the burn–not too tight–while you pack the horses, as well as instructing you where to find her stash of willow bark if Ellie needs it for the pain.

But something tells you that Eliie’s gonna tough it out. Though she holds her arm gingerly as she rides, fisting the reigns in her left hand, the girl grins all the way back to Jackson like she’s just pulled off the heist of the century.

________

Jackson is busy when you ride through the gates midday, folks passing by on their way to visit, deliver, build. Purpose in Jackson is taken seriously, as is leisure, and both are on display as you pass by the rustic main drag, in many different ways frozen in time–log storefronts and Mickey Mouse tshirts, leather-saddled livestock and Japanese fans.

You spot Joel waiting at the stables before he sees you, distracted by none other than Missy Tippet. Getting herself married or not, the stunning woman is a glutton for attention and a class A flirt, and she’s not the only one in town whose head turned the minute Joel took up residence.

Not that you can blame her, with him in that tight grey tshirt, busting a carpenter’s arms out of its sleeves and contouring it with sweat…. By the dust on his face, he’s been working today. Probably took a break to wait for–

“Ellie. Hey! You decided to come home.”

“Yup,” she says, throwing him the reins to distract him while she gingerly dismounts. “I shot three squirrels!”

You avoid Joel’s questioning glance as you slide down from your own mare and lead her into a stall. “Go on, you two, I’ll stable up. Nice to see you, Cinnamon Roll.”

But they’re already on their way, an engaged chattering, laughing questions and energetic answers…and your teasing goes unheard. Ah. Wrong ear, you realize.

Missy smirks; condescends.“Cinnamon roll, huh? Good try, I guess.”

You don’t rise to her bait. “Just giving him sass. He’s obviously not a fan. You gonna help me with these saddles or keep slobbering all over the men that aren’t your fiancee what come on by?”

Okay. Maybe a little rising.

________

It’s your ritual, first thing back from the meadow. The Roost holds a special place in your heart, but the one thing it can’t deliver is a shower. Great gods of earth and sky, let there be thanks that warm water’s still a thing, even in summer.

You’re still dripping, one head tilted to the side as you drain the last of the water out one ear, when there’s a knock at the front door downstairs.

Well, let’s see. There aren’t that many people who know you’re back yet and Ellie’s come home with a bandage on her arm. It’s easy to guess who’s knocking. Okay. Let’s get this over with.

When you answer the door wrapped in nothing but a towel, it obviously wasn’t what Joel was expecting, and if he walked over here with any ire, it instantly freezes and shatters like a bubble on the tundra when he takes in all the skin on display.

“You’ll excuse me if I don’t invite you in for snacks at the moment.”

Deflated, he simply rams his hands in his pockets, squinting. “You wanna tell me about Ellie’s arm?”

“I had planned on it at a time when I wasn’t wet and naked, but sure.” When he throws his hands up in defeat and turns to leave, you stop him, catching at his sleeve and stretching the fabric so it snaps back against his arm. “Hey. Wait. Yes. I was going to tell you.” As you cross your arms over the towel and lean on the door frame, he does much the same on the other side, averting his eyes and trying not to fidget. And failing. “It happened this morning. She shot some squirrels and we dressed ‘em for dinner last night and buried the bones and pelts. Gotta lye ‘em or animals come digging. I thought she could handle it. Looks like we both got burned, so to speak.” His face is stony. Unamused. You continue. “Willa looked at it this morning, we got it a good rinse. I’m gonna go by her place later and grab some willow bark and show Ellie how to compress.” He shakes his head at his boots. “Hey. She’ll be fine, Joel.”

“I don’t want her getting hurt out there.”

“And I do? It’s a chemical burn, not a clicker bite. She’ll learn from it. Kids can’t be put in glass cages.” It’s here that you pretend not to see the flash in his eye at the mention of bites, meanwhile noticing a bad scrape on his forearm. Seeing your opening, you reach out to draw a finger over it. “Jesus, Joel. Look at this. This. See? We all have occupational hazards. Come on.”

With a sigh you turn and pad into the kitchen to your first aid drawer, taking a chance that pays off--you’re surprised to hear him actually following. It takes a minute to dress the wound and you’re not ginger about it–water, apple cider vinegar, gauze. It’s a quiet minute though, one you thought you could power through, and maybe you could have, if you were in anything more than a towel…or couldn’t hear him breathing…or feel it on your skin. Trying to play it cool and get a vibe check on him, you look up only to catch his eye shifting away from your bare shoulder back to your work on his arm.

It’s time to break the silence, but you don’t feel the need to be on the defense anymore.

“We don’t have a lot of antibiotics just sitting around, you know. Don’t let this stuff fester, okay, cinnamon roll? You and that daredevil kid are a matching pair, you know that?”

He only grunts, half rolling his eyes at you, jaw set, voice at a soft compromise. “Yeah, well, I don’t want her going back out there until she’s healed up. Limited use of both arms is a good path to more accidents.”

“Fair. You win. Summer’s pretty slow anyway. I could use the quiet.” Laying it on thick, you tie up the ends of the gauze before releasing him back into the wilds. “Warm sun, buzz of bees. Sweet smell of grass and lupines. Meadow’s a good place for afternoon naps. Easier to do without an apprentice yapping my ear off.”

He nods thoughtfully at this--your words showing their effect--and slowly turns and heads for the door.

And you smile knowingly as you watch him go.

“You know,” you call out just before he closes the door behind him, “door’s open at the Roost. You can always come out there with her if you’re so concerned. That is, if you don’t mind sleeping on a broke-down sofa on the porch.”

Without looking back, he pauses briefly in the patch of summer glare. Then he silently steps out and pulls the door shut, leaving only the click of the latch and the sunlight through the leaded glass.

Well. That certainly could have gone much worse.

________

At least you’re wearing more clothes when it finally does go worse.

“What happened here, squirt?” Tommy taps his fork on Ellie’s bandage at family dinner.

And Ellie answers with a light jab to his arm. “Ow, you dick! That hurts!”

“Ellie–” a scold in stereo from both you and Joel.

As her teacher, the admonishment was instinctual. But in current context, it may have been a breach of place. The table goes silent as Joel’s head snaps in your direction and everyone else’s eyes bounce between you two, utterly amused. There’s a moment when you’re afraid he might just continue to glare, but then he cracks half a smile, shakes his head, and goes back to shoveling a spoonful of potatoes into his mouth.

It’s a reaction that lets you know Joel’s forgiven you, back to allowing you to be a rearing force in Ellie’s life.

“Meadowlark let me do some target practice and I shot some squirrels for dinner. Had to bury the skin and bones with lye and I got burned. Oops.”

“Oh my god,” Maria chews. “Are you okay?”

Ellie gives her a precocious smile and follows it with sarcastic condescension. “Yes, I’m going to live. As long as some people let it heal and stop hitting me with sharp things because they think they’re funny and they’re not.”

Tommy sticks his tongue out at Ellie and Maria laughs at them both before getting up to go fetch another jar of pickles from the pantry, holding her growing belly and waving off her husband's attempts to help.

“Rabbit’s better eating,” Tommy points out, returning to the subject at hand.

Ellie pops a stringbean into her mouth, clearly in a good mood. “But their hides are useful. Don’t have to bury them.”

The moment after she says this is like a lightning flash, and your reaction matches hers as you both freeze, realizing what she’s just accidentally said.

“Squirrels are faster, smaller, better target practice,” you say, clearing your throat, trying to act casual.

Tommy shrugs and nods, agreeing, oblivious, going to town on his ear of corn.

But Joel’s gone still, staring you down across the table, then casts a glance at Ellie…and her arm.

Shit.

Tommy and Maria are blissfully unaware of Joel’s turn for the quiet during the rest of the meal, not that he’d been very talkative to begin with. But the hesitant glances and shy smiles are gone now, replaced with a restrained patience and a few calculating glances.

It’s Maria’s turn to wash and Tommy’s to dry and yours to clear the table. But with every trip into the kitchen, you glance through the window over the sink into the yard where Joel and Ellie are having a spirited conversation under the tree at the far end.

'Spirited conversation' might be too polite a term. More like a one-sided lecture. Soon enough you have the table wiped down and you’re making a bee-line out the back door while Tommy and Maria argue about the best technique for drying a glass.

“That is not okay,” Joel hisses, trying to keep his voice low, giving Ellie’s shoulder a rough shake. “What if something went wrong? Huh? You could have burned down to the bone!”

“Joel, Joel, hey,” you whisper as you come to complete the triad. “Don’t. She confided in me. It was my idea.”

Nostrils flaring, lips pressed together, head wagging, he glares. “Of all the reckless, stupid….”

“I wanted to!” Ellie pleads, and you shut her down.

“That’s true, but Joel’s right and I knew it. I shouldn’t have–”

“If you tell anyone–” he warns, his eyes going full retribution against you--a hot coil ready to spring--and it petrifies you, takes you by the heart and squeezes.

“She won’t! Joel!”

“She’d better not.”

It’s a tense moment, one that surprises you. Scares you. In the months you’ve known him, Joel’s been a quiet and withdrawn creature, opening up in increments as you’ve done your best to build your trust, taming him slowly week after week, hoping for nothing more than having him someday eating out of your palm, pushing his cheek into your hand for gentle reassurance…

But in one fell swoop you’re back at the starting line–beyond the starting line. The papa bear in him is showing, bearing its teeth, and you’ve spent too much time among sheep, forgetting the valuable lesson that wild animals can never truly be tamed.

“I will burn this place to the ground if you ever hurt another hair on her head.” The quiet threat is feral and stinging and steals your breath before it’s over.

The things he’s capable of...those things are here and now and he could do them all to you before you had the chance to run.

The way he looks at you pulls the heat from the earth.

Before you can break from your paralysis, they’re gone, Joel pushing Ellie out of the yard toward home.

The stars are coming out. If there are crickets, you don’t hear them. Every sense seems to have shifted into neutral. Except breathing. That comes back with a hunger.

“Joel and Ellie take off?” Tommy calls from the window.

“Yeahhhh,” you call back without turning. “Tired. The heat. Think I might head home too.”

“Take a jar of these pickles. We have too many and Maria can't stomach them right now. I’ve got pickles coming out my damn ears.”

“Okay. Thanks, T. Pickles. Will do."

________

The following few days are...confusing. You should go out and grab some supplies on the main street, but actually fear running into Joel or Ellie. It’s stupid, and it makes you angry; it’s not that you’re afraid of him, it’s just…

You’re disappointed in yourself. Because everything’s upset now. Sure, you wanted to get close to them, but you overstepped, put Ellie in danger, made Joel feel unsafe. Everyone should feel safe in Jackson. Everyone should feel safe in the meadow. And you took that away from him.

Joel.

Why him? What about him do you need to have so badly? Why do you feel the need to fix him? To give him that safety?

Because Joel and Ellie so badly need a home. And you have an excess of home within you.

And little else.

You’ve never been lonely before. Why now?

Something about them….just fits.

Or so you thought. Or may have thought. Before you ruined it.

It’s better to just sit home and knit. Winter will be here soon enough and people need sweaters, dammit. You have a job to do.

But you can’t stay hidden away forever, especially not when there’s a wedding in the community.

________

“Bear, Missy, you’ve said your vows in front of all of us here tonight. We are all witness to your commitment. All in agreement, say aye!”

“AYE!”

“And those of you who want to spoil this good time, say nay!”

Bear’s brother pipes up from the side of the mess hall. “Nay!”

“Shut up, you asshole,” Bear laughs.

“Perfection is tempting devils!” his brother teases.

“Let ‘em come,” Bear shouts. “I’ll tear ‘em all down for my lady love, the prettiest girl in Jackson!” There’s applause and laughter as he kisses his new bride and the mood shifts as he roars, “Drinking and dancing!!!”

“Ugh. Good thing Willa isn’t here to see this. She’d be so annoyed.” Maria yells in your ear over the din as you huddle around your favorite table at the back of the hall. “I thought Missy would never settle down.”

“Bear must earn his name in the sack,” you crack back at her, and she clinks her glass against yours in agreement.

Tommy and Joel sit across the table from you, facing away toward the front. But when Tommy turns to join in the conversation, Joel remains facing out to the crowd, watching as tables are pushed to the side to make a dance floor, quietly pulling sips from a frothy cider.

He’s still pissed at you.

“Where’s Ellie?” you ask Tommy, not even attempting to address the wall of Joel-shaped ice.

“Over beyond, with the other big kids.”

You don’t turn to look, but Joel does after hearing the comment, before turning back to watch the crowd.

A band strikes up. Friends stop by and chat. Some of Tommy and Joel’s work friends come and take over the table–the boys all getting loud and rowdy–so you and Maria escape to the edge of the dance floor, beverages in hand, dancing–but not really–in place.

“What’s going on?” Maria finally asks over the music and the general glee.

“Hmm?”

“You two keep watching each other, but you’re not talking. What’s going on.”

You can’t keep from glancing over at the table…again. You weren’t aware of him taking any interest in you though.

“We had an argument the other day. I think I fucked things up.”

She pulls a face, comically surprised. “I would have guessed the other way around, but okay. You push him too hard or something?”

“Something like that.”

Glancing back over her shoulder at Joel and then back at you, Maria gives you her lawyer face. “He’ll come around. Tommy says he’s the last person to apologize for anything and if he does, you know it means a big deal. But if you’re willing to extend the olive branch first, that can go a long way.”

“Well, maybe not tonight,” you sigh, stealing a glance, watching as he drains his glass. “He’s had a few.”

But you can’t even convince yourself, handing your drink to Maria as Joel sets down his glass, slaps the table and pushes himself up, leaning forward to wish his buddies a good night. You follow him out of the mess hall like some lovestruck teenager strung out on a last hope.

“Joel. Joel!” Catching up with him halfway down the block, the light and noise from the party still follows as you get out in front of him. “Joel, stop. I have to apologize to you. Please let me.”

Though he’s backlit, you can still make out his tired glare. “Don’t. It’s not necessary.”

“Of course it is. Ellie’s important to you. You're her guardian. It wasn’t my call to make. I’m sorry.”

He waits a moment before throwing you an irritated prompt. “But?”

“But? I don’t know. She was hot in that long sleeve shirt and she showed me her arm–I can’t imagine what she went through. I just felt for her. But I did have a gut reaction when she showed me, Joel. Anyone would, but most wouldn’t hesitate for long. And those bites could get her killed. All I wanted was for her to be free from that. To be a kid. I’d say I wasn’t thinking, but...I was, Joel. Fuck was I thinking. I was thinking about her just being a kid and not getting killed.”

“Is that all?”

“Yeah, I guess. Except… I really don’t want you to punish her for my decision. She loves it out there. She thrives. And if you don’t trust me, my offer stands. Come with us. See for yourself.”

A huffed laugh. “Yeah? Do I get a callsign then?”

Your fatal flaw is jumping to the joke and the playful tease too soon, as you do now, anticipating his forgiveness. “Of course you do, grey fox.”

And that’s when he reaches out, pulls you close with strong hands.

Which would be exhilarating, if it wasn’t too close. And if his breath didn’t smell of cider.

“Why don’t you just take what you want,” he growls, quietly, coldly, jaw set, lips hardly moving.

It’s not fear that pings up your spine–now that you’ve had a taste of his anger and gotten over the initial shock from the other night, you know Joel won’t hurt you, not here, not as part of your found family, he knows better–

It’s bitter disappointment.

“What?”

His grip tightens, digs in. “It’s obvious what you want. Just go ahead. We’re both fucking lonely enough and I’m too old for games.”

He’s right here with you in the dark, his breath on your lips, your fingers twisting into the shoulders of his tshirt…but it’s wrong. It’s so wrong. And it’s hurting.

So you slowly push off his chest.

And the light from the mess hall hits your face again; something there causes his shoulders to drop, causes him to let you go.

A cheer rises up from the celebration that you’ve left behind, that you don’t feel like returning to, but neither can you be alone right now, so it’s likely your only choice.

“I’m not playing games, Joel. I never was. I like you. A lot. Both you and Ellie. I just didn’t want to spook you. But...I also don’t want someone who doesn’t want me. So…maybe I read you wrong. Or maybe we need different things.”

“What do you need?” It almost falls out of him, uncontrolled, unemotional, a gathering of facts.

And your answer comes the same way, surprising you as you’re sure his own question surprised himself.

“A home.”

It’s a quiet night, perfectly warm. You’re sure if you went home right now, the fireflies–the good kind–would be out in the back yard.

Instead, you give him a shellshocked nod–of finality, of punctuation–and follow your feet back toward the light, toward happiness and love that you can’t share at the moment. And you don’t look back.

________

When you don’t show up for family dinner that week, Maria comes knocking the next day.

Knocks, yes, but does not wait for an answer. In sisterly fashion, she makes straight for your wool room and sits calmly on the edge on the daybed there, staring at you as you mend a hole in a sweater.

“Missed you at our table last night.”

“I know.”

It doesn’t matter how hard she stares, you continue to avoid it and concentrate on the work in your hands.

“That was an invitation for you to explain.”

“I’m aware.”

“Girl–”

“I’m not getting along with Joel right now. Ellie has…this thing on her arm that she doesn’t want anyone to know about. You notice how she would wear long sleeves even in the heat? I felt bad for her. So I… suggested…the lye.”

This doesn't faze her. “It was on purpose. And Joel found out. I see.” Leaning back into the pillows with a pregnant grunt, she swings her feet up onto the daybed. “Is hiding helping? You know we all know where you live, right?”

“Are you really putting your muddy shoes on my quilt?”

“So you’re just going to avoid him.”

You squint at the binding. “I’m gonna have to raid the commissary for some better glasses. My eyesight’s getting out of hand.”

“You’re going to avoid us. Me and Tommy and Ellie.”

Letting out a huge sigh, you concede to her tenacity because she won’t stop until she gets what she wants. “For now.” When her tongue clicks, you finally look up. “Listen. I apologized and he’s still mad. I agree with you that he’ll get over it, but he hasn’t yet, and that means I haven’t either. And I’m not as good at turning on my bitch face as that one is.”

“So we shouldn’t expect you next week either.”

“Nope,” you pout, tackling the sweater again with focused frustration. “I traded with Goldie. Going out a week early.”

“You’re running away.”

“I’m stressed out and I need to not be here, yes!” You admit, throwing down the knitting. “What is the big deal? I don’t have to get along with everyone in Jackson! You don’t!”

You understand that flat look from her, known it since you were kids. She’s counting to 10, giving you the chance to calm down so one of you can speak the truth and speak it calmly.

“But you want to get along with Joel.”

Of course she was going to say that. Because it’s what you’re thinking and not wanting to say out loud and she can read you like a book.

“Yeah. I really do. You know I do.”

“Okay,” she says, pushing herself up with effort and crossing the room to kiss her fingers and press–nay, slap–them to your forehead before heading out. “Go on and go to your happy place. Go calm down in your little clubhouse. I was just worried about you is all. Brought you leftovers. They’re on the counter.”

“Thanks. You’re too good to me. As always. Love you.”

“I know. As always. Love you too.”

________

At the end of the week you’re up early, your pack and rations slung over your back, pistol on one hip, making your way to the stables while the town’s still quiet, before anyone can notice you going. Your boots crunch on the dirt road in lieu of the birdsong from those lazy bitches not even up yet, the dawnlight casting Jackson in blues and blacks, like a new-world mid-era Picasso.

The problem is, you know all of these blues and blacks, all these shapes and shadows. There’s a new one this morning, something leaning up against the stable door.

And it’s shaped like a fourteen year old girl with a couple of bags.

As you approach, Ellie tips away from the wall, standing upright, waiting until you come to a stop in front of her.

“Joel said I could go with you.”

“It’s a week early.”

“Yep.”

It’s too early in the morning for exasperated sighs, but here you are. “Maria or Tommy?”

“Tommy.”

“Figures. Big fucking mouth.”

“Yep.”

She waits patiently for it to sink in.

Once it does, you pull the walkie off your belt.

“Meadowlark to Chickadee. ETA 30, towing a Starling in behind me.”

________

“So what did you say to him to get him to change his mind?” Ellie takes your fishing rod so you can pull off your boots and roll up your pants.

“Me? I figured it was you said something.” Wading out into the stream at this little ripple point is harder than it looks. The rocks are sharper here, full of crannys that are equally as good for fish to hide in as they are to turn an ankle. It doesn’t help that the setting sun is throwing shadows that make it harder to determine what’s what. “I haven’t talked to him in weeks. Not since Bear’s wedding. Keep that line taut.”

“According to Maria, you haven’t talked to anyone lately.”

“I had knitting to do,” a dismissal as you follow the line out into the current. “There are hardly any weeds out here; what did this dang hook snag on? A rock?”

“Well, he finally admitted that masking the scar was a good thing. I told him I want to get a tattoo over it. He said no.”

You laugh, tugging at the line, teetering on a flatter stone. “Of course he did. But that’s a good thing. Tattoo’s a permanent mark. Good to have an excuse to think long and hard about what you’d want. Willa’s great with nature stuff. She could probably do you a bird or a tree or something.”

“I was thinking maybe the moon. Or like, a machete.”

“Of course you were. Oh, oh... hang on, I think I’ve found it.” Reaching down under one of the rocks, you follow the fishing line, but it doesn’t seem to have an end. “Well, where the hell?”

“Uhhhhh,” Ellie points to the water at your feet. “I think it found you.”

A fine red ribbon of blood floats away on the current and you follow it upstream to your foot. More specifically, the inner part of your big toe. “Well shit. Did I just catch my own damn self?”

“Catch of the day!” Ellie laughs. “I bet you fry up real tough. Does it hurt?”

“Didn’t even feel it, water’s too cold. Get your knife and cut the line so I don’t get all tangled.”

Once you’re back on shore and take stock, it’s obvious some tools are needed. “Run and get me the wire cutting pliers, the vinegar jug, and the first aid kit, will you?”

Ellie’s off like a shot on youthful legs, making short work of the errand while you keep your foot in the stream and tend to her line. But once she’s back and opens the kit, her face twists into a frown. “Aren’t there supposed to be bandages in here?”

“What?” Snipping the hook in two you slide it out the easy way as Ellie watches in morbid fascination. “There’s not?”

“Nope. Plenty of cleanser and some needle and thread, but no bandages.”

“Shit. I suppose we never restocked it after Willa set you up. Well, I’ll just have to bleed into my sock for the time being and find something up at the Roost.” Ellie moves to help you, but you hold a hand up and go for the walkie. “Hey. Meadowlark to Goldie.”

The walkie comes to life, garbled, full of noise.

“Goldie? Meadowlark to Goldfinch.”

A couple of seconds pass. “Sorry, Goldfinch here. Was in the tavern and there’s an arm wrestling competition in there. Lots of yelling.”

“Really? Who’s winning?”

“Right now it’s Bear. What’s up?”

“Oh, I never restocked the first aid kit after Ellie’s mishap and we’re needing clean bandages. Can you send some along on patrol tomorrow?”

“Sure. Everything alright out there?”

“Yeah, I just stepped on a fishhook.”

“Well, why the hell did you do that?”

“You know, the usual. Shits and giggles.”

“You do you. Don’t ever change. I’ll send some supplies along.”

“Thanks. Put a wager down on Bear for me. Meadowlark out.”

“Will do. Goldfinch gone.”

“Alright, kid,” you groan, hanging onto her shoulder and pulling yourself up, “Bring in your line and let’s take what we got and get a supper going.”

________

The next day, you drop a few old carrots over the balcony railing. “Ellie! Take these with you! You’ll tame that skittish one sooner or later; keep trying!”

The girl scoops up the veggies and trudges out through the pasture, heavy not with the task of doing the rounds by herself but due to the heat. At least she can wear short sleeves now, even if the bandage gets questions. But you suspect she enjoys the clout and attention she gets out of the burn.

Thank goodness she’s here. Your injury gets angry when you walk. So Ellie's tasked with the rounds and taking stock while you elevate the foot and get caught up on some spinning.

Not that there’s any hurry to do so. As you lean on your arms against the balcony railing a little breeze kicks up. Content for the moment, you let it bring you a little coolness, a little movement, the rising and falling music of this year’s batch of cicadas. The meadow's pretty this summer, all purples and reds, festooned with lupine and Indian paintbrush and the air at the Roost smelling like the pines that grow around it.

“Patrol to Meadowlark.”

Damn. You left the walkie on the table inside. Guess the decision’s been made for you to get your ass moving. That’ll be a delivery coming in and you hobble on over to answer.

"Patrol here. You there, Meadowlark?"

“Sorry. Meadowlark here.”

“Sending Joel Miller in with supplies at the north gate.”

That’s…not what you expected. But…wow. Really? Has your heart stopped, or is it just going really fast?

“Put him on the walkie.”

Who cares what you’re heart’s doing, your face is gonna cramp from the smile.

“Hey. It’s me,” he answers, gentle, penitent.

“Me who.”

“Joel.”

So he's olive branching first. Well, he'll have to earn it.

“Yeah, about that, we have procedures around here. Callsign or bust, sir.”

You can almost hear his eyes rolling, but it sounds like he’s up for the challenge.

“Seriously.”

“Sure.”

“Jesus. This is…Grey Fox. Coming in at the north gate. Happy?”

“I will be. Meadowlark out.”

Tottering gingerly back out to the balcony, you land heavily on the old green broke-down sofa. There’s no need to bring the rifle. Even if he was being pursued by a pack of raging clickers, Joel is certain to carry a gun, and certain to use it confidently.

A few slow minutes tick by in the sun and a cicada buzzes in from nowhere to attach itself to one of the balcony supports. The big bug breathes for a minute, its iridescent wings still twitching with the effort of hoisting that bulky little body.

And then, in your eyeline just past the cicada, there’s movement.

Joel coming out of the north woods.

He’s on foot. Green plaid and jeans wading through the flowered fields. With his shirtsleeves rolled up on purpose to let those brown arms and big hands of his swing. With not just the one, but two rifles on his back? Isn’t that a bit overkill?

Wait. One of them’s not a rifle. It’s…a guitar.

Well. Someone’s planned to make himself at home.

Your smile earns more real estate.

Good.

Soon he’s close enough for you to make out his grey curls shifting in the breeze. Then he disappears under the Roost, only to transform into the sound of heavy footfalls on the ladder.

Propping your chin on your forearms crossed over the back of the sofa, you watch through the front windows as he steps into the room and takes it in with a carpenter’s eye. He stops in silent appreciation, gaze scrolling the woodwork, the joints, posts, slope of the peak. The woodstove catches his notice and he taps the tile beneath it with his boot, his interest trailing up the pipe, squinting at the trap around the exhaust. His bottom lip pushes up in approval and he nods, surveying the windows now…and stops when he sees you.

“Hey there, Cinnamon Roll. Welcome to the Roost.”

A half-hidden smile. Without a word, he untangles himself out of his gear, digging through his knapsack and retrieving a box before coming out onto the balcony and making his way over to you. Swiping a hand through the air, he motions for you to move your knee so he can sit beside you, then pulls your foot up into his lap and takes a look over your makeshift bandage–the sleeve of an old blouse–before starting to unwrap it.

It hurts. But you let him.

"Who told you I needed a first aid kit?"

"Was at the tavern when Goldie got the call. Heard it myself. Where’s Ellie?”

“She’s making the rounds. Just left before you came in."

He grunts an acknowledgement, focusing on your toe, moving it so he can assess the wound a little better. A little wince; he can tell it hurts. Grabbing a tiny bottle of cleansing agent and a fresh bandage, he gets to work.

“Just so you know,” he grumbles, “we don’t have a lot of antibiotics just sitting around. You shouldn’t let this stuff fester.”

He must see your smirk from the corner of his eye. He matches it with his own.

“You using my words against me now, Dr. Miller?”

“Not at all. Just passing on some valuable knowledge that was gifted to me.”

He works quietly, carefully wrapping the toe, then your foot, splinting it in a way that should make it easier to walk on. Obviously not the first time he’s cared for a wound. He must have seen a lot out there in his wilder days.

“This one was truly an accident. For real this time,” you attest.

But his smile burns off to the stone underneath.

His sincerity precedes him. “I’m sorry.”

An apology. From Joel Miller. For what? Not trusting you? Keeping Ellie away? Speaking to you the way he did? You assume it’s all of the above. But it isn’t necessary to ask for clarification; you only want to put the missteps behind you and get on with leaning on each other.

“You’re staying, right?”

He nods once to you, then to the sofa. “This where I’m sleeping?”

“I mean, if you want one of our beds, that’s fine, you’ll just have to fight us for it. In which case, you might as well give up now.”

“No, it’s okay. It’ll be like sleeping under the stars.” He stares out at the mountains over the meadow, watching the shadow of a cloud roll over it, your foot warm between his hands, a thumb absently rubbing at the bandage. “This is nice out here. Quiet. I’m not used to it. But it’s good.”

“Yeah, I’ll admit I do better with some wide open spaces. And fewer people to share it with.”

Two lines form above the bridge of his nose. “Ellie told me about your ranch. Your family. I’m sorry to hear it.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“Doesn’t mean it isn’t worth being sorry.”

He's got you there. “Everyone’s lost something. Someone. Several someones. The whole world’s a little sorry. But I appreciate it. It means we’re all in it together, those of us left." You make a study of him, his solemn nod, the way the sun glints off his watch. “I’m glad you took me up on my invitation, Joel. It’ll be nice having you here, being out here together.”

And then he turns to you, making his own study of you, as if watching your clouds roll away too.

“I agree.”

________

“Now, the E7 is the same as the E, you just pick up that third finger. Good. Now let’s do a three-four, E7, A, E.”

As the sun starts to set, your eyes have had enough of the spindle for one day and you’re cleaning up while Joel and Ellie muck around with his guitar out on the balcony. She’s a quick study, even if some of the chords are more difficult than others for her small hands, and it’s obvious he’s been working with her on it for a while.

Using a walking stick that Joel made from a pine branch–stripping the bark and wrapping one end with duct tape for a sliverless handle–you put together a little plate of berries and cheese, sling a thermos full of sun tea under your arm, and head out to the balcony.

“That's it. Thumb, wrist, wrist,” Joel coaches Ellie in a waltz strum as you hand off the treats to him and take a spot at the railing for one last survey of the meadow before the twilight goes. “That’s good. Keep that up, just like that. Hey there, songbird,” he drawls at you, “you know any Hank Williams?”

Rather than turn to him with a smile, you give it to the meadow, but let him hear it in your voice. “Do I? My dad grew up in Montana in the 50s and 60s. What do you think I was raised on?”

“Well go on then. You should know this one.”

Now that you’re truly listening and realize the chords he’s been working her through, you certainly do.

Ellie must have told him how you like to sing out here. So you do.

“Hear that lonesome whippoorwill, He sounds too blue to fly. The midnight train is whining low, I'm so lonesome I could cry.”

Joel encourages Ellie to keep going, and to add a B7 in at the end. “Go on,” he prompts to you when you turn around, smiling blithely as his two girls make him a pretty song to listen to.

“I've never seen a night so long When time goes crawling by. The moon just went behind the clouds To hide its face and cry.

“Did you ever see a robin weep When leaves begin to die? That means he's lost the will to live; I'm so lonesome I could cry.”

“The next verse is the last one, so play her out on some single rising notes and hit the final chord.”

Ellie bites her bottom lip and nods, taking the cue, but she doesn’t need to look at her hands anymore as she’s getting the hang of it, and instead smiles as you take on her favorite subject.

“The silence of a falling star Lights up a purple sky, And as I wonder where you are… I'm so lonesome I could cry.”

Her outro could use a little work, but it suffices and you give her due applause. “How are those fingers doing?”

She takes stock of her hands. “Look. Calluses.”

“You’ve got some work to do before you can call those welts calluses,” Joel teases.

“Well, I think she’s earned a treat. I didn’t bring those out here for you to hoard ‘em.”

Ellie balances the guitar against the arm rest and Joel hands over the plate, stealing a cherry and popping it into his mouth. Bringing her feet up, Ellie rests the plate on her knees and settles against Joel’s shoulder, smiling, content, proud of her progress, eating her reward and watching the night come on.

It’s such an intimate father-daughter scene that you’re about to go indoors and let them enjoy the view together. But then Joel moves his foot slightly as if to block your path. Catches your eye. Drapes his free arm over the back of the sofa and glances pointedly at his free shoulder, then back at you with a jerk of his head as if to say, You too, get in here, this one’s yours.

You do not have to be told twice.

Settling in with a long sigh, you don’t pay much attention as Ellie starts recounting everything she knows and doesn’t know about the first moon landing. You’re more interested in the way your cheek fits into Joel’s shoulder, and how his arm lays heavy and warm over yours, how his chest rumbles when he answers Ellie’s questions and laughs at her sass. How the shadows spill over the butte and pull through everything until they are everything.

And you notice how the moonlight reflects off the plate in Ellie’s hand, off the tuning keys of the guitar…and yet…it’s missing in one place it should be.

Joel’s wrists are bare.

Joel is laughing. And his wrists are bare.

________

Picking up his watch where it’s been living on the little table all week, you pack it into Joel’s knapsack on the last morning before heading out.

“Goldie’ll be here soon. You see Joel come back from the rounds yet?”

Ellie shakes her head as she’s packing her bag. “Nope. Went out an hour or two ago. You want me to go get him?”

Taking his bag and your own to the balcony, you throw them over the side to the forest floor below. “I’ll go. Been on my ass all week. I could use the walk.” You hand her the walkie on the way out, trusting her to take the incoming hail.

Fastest way to find someone on rounds is to walk the opposite direction, so you head south to the stream.

You don’t have to go far.

A group of sheep have gathered in the grass halfway between the Roost and the water, lazing peacefully as if gathered for a little tea party, and you can guess what they’re all discussing.

There, in the middle of their protective huddle, is the man you’ve been waiting for all this time; shoes off, one arm slung above his head, asleep in the sun and the warm, fragrant grass, as if he grabbed your description of the meadow and ran with it, needing the nap of a lifetime.

At first you keep your distance, not wanting to startle him. But then you realize that it might take more than your approach and a couple soft bleats from a lamb to wake him.

Especially with his good ear turned to the ground like that.

Safe. Warm. Content.

Goldie will be coming soon, but you’ll be able to see her from here. No need to wake him yet.

There’s time enough to just sit and shade his face from the sun, watch the steady rise and fall of his hand on his belly, and whisper a little prayer of thanks to the earth and wind and sky–hell, even to the sheep–that Joel and Ellie found their way to Jackson.

And that you found your way to them.

Good. Everyone's got a good reason to keep going then.

________

Lyrics from "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry" by Hank Williams

PREVIOUS: SPRING

NEXT: AUTUMN

MASTERLIST

SERIES MASTERLIST

(artwork by @stealyourblorbos)

[yanderehsr]

Last night, I had a dream where I was going to the store to do the groseries but once I arrived there I saw Andrew Tate(I f-ing hate that dude) having sexy time with a man(yes, in the first ile of the store) saying "men are way better than women because they are more sexy" then he saw a littl girl passing by (idk where her mom is ok?) and he threw her off the window. Then, Andrew became a bunch of squirreles that decided to attack me and while they were on my face I was panicing ofc and tried to take them off and the next thing I know one if the squireles has transformd into Hittler and another into Joe Biden and they were mad that I hit them (they atacked first but oh well) and threw an alpaca llama at me that spat in my eyes. While I tried to take that saliva out of my eyes I suddently woke up in the comcert of bts and it got hit by a bomb. Apparently I have started ww3. Then, my bf(I dont have bf but uk, dream logic means I have one apparently💀) took me by my hand to a safe place (a buncer that was comvintly under lidl) and there we have staid hidden for a few days untill he told me one morning to come with him to show me smth. I folowed him and he took me to a bridge where he told me he told me he is gonna sell me to some trolls to end ww3(logic💀) and then the troll hit me with a pan in the head and I woke up.

Imagine yandere being woken up by reader to tell yandere this dream in the dead of the night and be mad at yandere bc they got sold bc of yandere(yan is in place of the bf).

Like- ITS THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT😭

Ok, what the hell was that dream, that right there was like an soap opera with all the twists🤣

I think Itto, Bennett, Sampo and Sushang is the type to ask for forgiveness, they probably don't know what they did wrong. All they know is that you are mad so they apologize

Then we have Silver Wolf, Blade, Wanderer and Ningguang that actually gets mad at you, did you really think they would ever do that to you, you woke them up in the middle of the night for something so foolish, you will get punished, hope it was worth it doubting their loyalty.

We have Albedo, Alhaitham, Dan Heng and Kafka who will ignore you and go back to sleep, they aint getting up at this time for such a dumb reason, they will go back to sleep no matter how mad you are at them, they can deal with you in the morning.

Lastly we have Furina, Yoimiya, Himeko and March 7th who pulls you into their bed, they think that if they are there then you will be protected from the nightmares, they hold you in an irongrip until they wake up again.