#lone wanderer ellie

[callmewisteria]

Something Breaking (At The Precipice Of Something New Chapter XLV)

After eleven years, Annette enters her own memory of the day Enclave Colonel Augustus Autumn murdered her father at the site of Project Purity to confront the guilt of surviving when her father did not? Set on bringing Kasumi home, Preston Garvey, his right hand man and his right hand man's daughter, Nick Valentine, and Ellie Perkins split up in Acadia to speak with her and to confront Dima about her humanity? Her mind still reeling from the events at the Atom Cats' Garage, a heartfelt conversation with the woman she has fallen in love with, Cait Felgate, leads to both Nora and Cait revealing parts of their pasts to each other that still leave them conflicted about what they make them as people? The Minutemen, Valentine, and Perkins go to meet with High Confessor Tektus alongside an Atomite believer and synth named Cole to convince Tektus to surrender his power to the peace driven Cole? The Mechanist in their custody alongside two abominable robots, the Brotherhood decide what to do about them?

A lot happening in this one in the aftermath of the heavy action of the previous chapter, read it on AO3, ff.net, and/or wattpad!!

[aetherose]

Elysia listens as Ren tells her of the flower's true nature. Her mouth turns into a 'o' shape as he informed her of the flower's true nature. A flower that resembles a lotus, but isn't one at all, huh. How interesting. "Oh, I see. I'm curious why they'd name it a lotus then...doesn't that just make it confusing? Though...I suppose perhaps it deserves to still be considered one..."

Elysia finds herself a little lost in thought like Ren because of the flower's nature, considering her own true inhumanity, yet she looks like a completely normal human despite it. Barring the elf ears anyway, but it seems Ren hasn't even spared a glance at them, so she's going to guess elves aren't strange to see in this world. Very convenient for her, given in most other worlds, people tend to question that. Even if she manages to get herself out of those situations through her charisma and cuteness. Well, usually.

She stares at the the flower some more for a moment, before her gaze returns to Ren, just as she witnesses him cut himself, and the cut immediately healing before any blood could leave it. "Um..." She starts, clearly looking at his hand, "Are you alright? You cut yourself, but your finger...looks okay now?"

Hearing that Ren does something similar to her archive, she tilts her head. "You do something similar too? Glad to know I'm not the only one, then~" She smiles brightly, before blinking in slight surprise. She'd never even contemplated the prospect of her archive being possible to be tampered with.

But as for her memories being messed with, that's highly unlikely to happen. Not when she's walled off her mind completely to invaders with her power as a Herrscher. She's not going to mention that, of course. Though, she's aware there may exist beings that perhaps can get through even the power of the Authority of Origin...as unlikely as it may be that she might encounter them. Or so she believes, anyway. Perhaps she's just the slightest bit arrogant. But most probably couldn't blame her, given her level of power.

She puts a hand to her chin in thought. "I hadn't thought about that possibility, I'll admit. That sounds like a good idea, though. And really fun, too~!" Writing a poem or maybe even a story based off of all that she has experienced and put down in her archive...her storyteller heart was quite excited now at the prospect.

he  follows  the  line  of  her  arm,  eyes  settling  on  the  flower  in  question.  the  wanderer  hums,  mulling  it  over  for  a  moment  —  before  turning  back  to  his  work.  it  shouldn't  be  too  difficult,  even  for  a  relative  novice  such  as  himself.  as  long  as  he  keeps  the  petals  thick  and  sturdy  —  and  doesn't  lose  track  of  the  layers.   ❝  kalpalata  lotus.  ❞  he  says  aloud.  deft  fingers  flip  the  knife;  lightly,  ren  starts  to  slice  a  faint  outline  into  the  piece  of  wood.  something  to  give  him  a  general  idea  of  where  to  cut.  he  doesn't  feel  like  fumbling  around  for  an  ordinary  writing  utensil.   ❝  contrary  to  the  name,  ❞  the  wanderer  continues  as  he  carves,  ❝  they  aren't  actually  true  lotus  flowers  at  all ...  they  just  so  happen  to  resemble  them.  ❞   in  a  strange  way,  he  can't  help  but  feel  a  sort  of  KINSHIP.  not  only  due  to  his  name  (  though  that  is  undeniably  a  contributing  factor  )  —  but  rather,  because  he  also  so  closely  resembles  one  thing  while  being  another  entirely.  most  humans  don't  spare  him  so  much  as  a  second  thought  these  days.

his  hand  slips  —  and  the  wanderer  blinks  back  to  awareness.  though  the  knife  is  dull,  it  still  grazes  his  finger  with  enough  force  to  break  the  skin.  yet  as  he  watches,  the  cut  knits  itself  back  together  before  it  even  has  the  chance  to  BLEED.   ❝  people  love  to  make  assumptions  based  on  arbitrary  details.  ❞   ren  muses.  he  hopes  she  didn't  see  that;  he  doesn't  want  to  explain.

the  book  offers  something  of  a  WELCOME  DISTRACTION,  pulling  him  up  before  he  has  the  chance  to  sink  into  the  dreary  depths  of  his  bitter  thoughts.  another  wanderer  —  he  supposes  that's  a  bit  interesting.  he's  encountered  a  handful  of  people  who  prefer  his  particular  flavor  of  lifestyle  before,  though  they  are  uncommon  enough  for  such  meetings  to  still  be  somewhat  NOTABLE.  ❝  that's  not  a  terrible  idea.  ❞  ren  says.  the  words  may  sound  a  bit  harsh,  a  bit  condescending  —  though  by  his  standards,  it  may  as  well  be  the  equivalent  of  praise  sung  joyously  from  the  rooftops.  ❝  to  be  honest,  i  actually  do  something  similar  myself.  ❞  he  does.  it  seems  like  a  pointless  effort,  considering  his  memory  is  as  close  to  PERFECT  as  possible  —  but  he  knows  from  experience  that  it  isn't  impervious  to  being  tampered  with.  not  by  the  likes  of  irminsul;  its  authority  over  this  world  exceeds  even  the  ability  of  the  gods  to  RESIST  IT.

❝  you  might  want  to  take  steps  to  ensure  that  archive  of  yours  is  closely  guarded.  turn  your  experiences  into  a  poem  —  something  to  guarantee  they  can't  be  TAMPERED  WITH  by  an  outside  source.  ❞  that's  what  he  does.  ❝  you  never  know  when  what  you  have  written  down ...  will  differ  from  what  you  remember.  ❞

[astralnymphh]

SEXROT 𖤐 | ellie williams

☠︎︎࿐-ˊˎ jackson!ellie x fem!reader

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

✧˖ ° 🕯 bright blessings!

AN: second fic ever published, it took sm longer but has more focus on the smut part of it. maybe the epilogue is a bit more casually written but its whatevs y'all def just here for the smut anyway. but(t) i hope u enjoy!! cause i sure did!! various times.

cw/tags: NSFW 18+ MDNI, smoking weed, getting high, friends to lovers, flirting, killing infected, guns, knives, blood description, replaces the jackson patrol scenario, spitting, dom leaning ellie, fingering (receiving, vaginal) clit stim (receiving and giving-ish) strap penetration (receiving, vaginal) oral (receiving) petnames (babe,baby,babygirl,princess) almost caught naked tewgether 😈(not in the act)

WC: 6.6k+

designated song: anesthesia- type o negative

synopsis: you have resided in jackson for about six months solo in a humble cabin only a stroll away from the lively community plaza. ellie introduced herself to you two months ago on the full lunar night of a bonfire and have proved inseparable ever since. both of you had a couple things in common upholding your friendship but lots of new experiences arise from beneath those shared interests. one day, you and ellie embark on the scheduled patrol for that afternoon, plowing through scattered clusters of infected inhabiting dilapidated buildings lost in the past. presently, after trudging the pearly snow and eluding the raging snowstorm, tucking both of you into a lone library sitting amongst those very buildings, brimmed with a 'herby' mystery.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Your uneasy fingers grasp the rustic steel door handle, deprived of the haven sourced on the summit of your horse's saddle minutes prior to entering this enigma of a building. Not a soul has settled within these walls for a considerable stretch of time and it shows, dust cloaking the floor, a void pooling in various corners of each room, the stuffy and still air clogging your senses and peculiar noises erupting from either your mind or physical reality. You roll the knob and push the loose door open, hinges creaking untimely with the lingering presence of a clicker revealing itself with the infamous croaks emitting from its fungal body.

Ellie is close behind, poised over your crouched shoulder with hawk pupils scanning the room you've just discovered. Her hand nudges you and deviates your focus from the room, honing on what she was mouthing in empty words.

"Watch my back, I'm gonna sneak up on it." 

You nod subtly in accordance, flattening your back against the icy door to make a path for her.

Ellie extends her gloved hand out on the doorways trim, shuffling on crouched legs past you and into the pigsty of an office, steadily approaching the mindless croaking clicker.

Your fingers seize the pistol sheathed in its thigh holster, provoking the trigger with dual fingers ready to fire a round right in the clickers noggin if need arises. The creaky chatter cracking from the fungoid continues as Ellie creeps upon its obliviousness, pouncing timely and capturing it in headlock as she fluidly jabs her switchblade into its rigid neck, spewing crimson blood outwards that painted her sleeve quite disgustingly.

"Uck," she conveys, face contorted with sourness.

Stillness remains until the coast proves clear, giving you a chance to address, "All good, no more infected." 

"Well, it's about fucking time!" she heaves the figurative indent of edge from her tense chest, flicking off strings of blood from her winter sweater.  "Think this doors' unlocked?" She queries herself prior to twiddling with the rattling door knob of a possible exit.

Your wandering eyes uncover the roughly concealed red and grey steel box, internalizing instantly that it was a generator, "Hey, 'Williams', there's a generator." you make known to Ellie, who's not even facing it.

She turns around, "Where there's a generator, there's a hideout. We could use the supplies, so.." she sauntered over to the generator, folding her knuckles around the pull-tab, "Hope they don't mind us borrowing- also, don't call me by my last name!" 

You snort a genuine laugh and ogle the way Ellie cranks the cord, arm so stable and fierce. You felt like a bumbling idiot for admiring her mere movements, but something under the skin pined for her in a way unfathomable at first glint. Her cinnamon dotted cheeks, badass scar slanting in her brow, fluorescent fauna irises, button nose and the sheer nerd that she was really spun the tide coalescing within your tenuous heart. On the other hand, her mannerisms, thrumming husky voice and attitude frets the knot in your pelvis beyond a fixing point you can't manage alone.

"C'mon, lights are on in here." Her voice snuffs the ramblings clogging your brain, grasping your attention towards the door swinging open just now.

You stare into her pupils barreling into you, now twisting a impishly curious visage.

"What'chu thinking about?" 

Your eyes flicker, "Nothing." A clod draws from your tense gullet, gulping the trance that bewitched your susceptible mind.

"Doesn't look like 'nothing'." She prys with a low gravelly tone, waddling languidly towards you.

"Nothing." You pursue vaguely, dusting past Ellie in a swift pace.

She just gawks at you, thin grooves in-between her knitted brows while she swung her head round to trail her eyes after you. Admittedly, she entertained the stray thoughts of you mutually, as the living recreations of you are sunken into her journals pages habitually. Her wrist recalls every arch and convex of your face, fingers honor the sway of your eye shape, subconscious retains the wisping of your baby hairs and consciously, Ellie just knows you as 'cute girl'. That very title is etched under the whole lot of depictions reaping your glamor throughout her journal.

"You think Eugene used this place too? I mean, all this electrical shit, nobody'd tinker with it except him." She infers, reverting to the eased doorway you just proceeded through.

Your void mind instantly heeds the flurry of wired veins branched across the next room. Your eyes trace the river of cords until it vanishes between the wall and a peculiar bookcase. Illumination pummels through the frayed wood planks backing it, luring your mind towards this enigma.

"Yo, check this out." You hoist an observation aloud, Ellie's umber auburn head whirls to peek at your discovery.

"What the fuck?" An airy chuckle grates from her throat in awe, peachy lips ajar and nooks of her mouth flexing into a smirk.

You lend your weight upon this bookcase, plateauing to drive the colossal bookshelf from where it's planted. "Ugh, a little help?"

Ellie giggles at your measly endeavor to motivate the shelf, that dumb wide crescent grin bearing upon her spread lips, "Got no muscles or something?" she quips.

"Shut up!"

She caves in and assists you regardless, moseying around and towering over you, casting a dark specter across your body. It was a casual stance, but quivers your beating core nonetheless. The noise of scratches indenting underneath the hefty bookcase as it drags screeches in your hollow eardrums.

"There." Ellie claims hoarsely, whooshing her breath against your bare neck and scoring numerous hairs to plumb from your skin.

Shaking it off, you embark through the threshold, eyes tunneling upon a downward staircase beckoning you to traverse to its descendant level.

"Tch, did Eugene own a sex dungeon?" Ellie immaturely cracks, scurrying down the steps faster than a dog could.

"I hope. That dude was lonely." You jest back in emphasis, earning a gust of laughter past Ellie's lips.

"Think we'll find scary whips and chains in there?"

"Oh my god, Els! I don't think he was into that kinda stuff." You hop a step, springing upon her and jabbing your stiff knuckles into her unalerted shoulder blades playfully.

"Ouch! It was only a theory." her voice curves in defense, sowing her feet flat after the last tread of stairs. 

You tumble your eyes accompanied by a sigh, beating her to the door and pushing it open to a sight your noses realistically should have detected a floor above. Least of all ambrosial, the fetid source birthed from a garden of weed, some potted, some dangling, lots cascading over the steel tables, essentially, a fuck ton of herb.

"Unholy shit!" You expound with starstruck pupils, molting away the playful exterior you harbored just moments ago and cast an astonished visage.

"Did he grow.. all of this?" Ellie doesn't grapple with the notion of it right away, but soon materializes it in her cranium and wanders over to a pot of the dried sage green herbage.

"Must've taken ages.." you pondered, plucking a brittle leaf off its hunched stem, chafing it to ash between the pads of your glove-clad digits, "And a day.." you slyly add in regards to the weeds dehydrated state.

Ellie stupidly grins in reaction to your joke, baring teeth and all. She strides past arrays of trays, rustling the herbs strung up to the ceiling. Her eyes land upon an obscure shape, alluring her to inspect the properties of this object. She erupts, "It's a gas mask bong." cradling the mask in her hands, infatuated by its genius design.

"In what situation would you even use that?" you doubt it's anything more than plain goofy.

"Emergency relief?"

"Of course you'd know how."

"Hey, I don't smoke that often!" she wards in a pitched tone, scoffing at your mere belittling.

You reel back into a searching mode, lurking among the next isle of weed till a glass jar of blunts enlightens you. "Ellie, there's a jar of this shit!" 

"Oh for real?" she trots hastily to your region, bearing a vivacious fever at the sight beholding a for real container of rolled blunts.

"Think it's fresh?"

Ellie hums an 'I dunno', cusping the jar from your hands and wrenching the lid with all her might, not budging at all. It takes her a blur of tries, observing the way her thick brows purse together and summon those vertical grooves in her forehead, an attractive sight to you.

"You need help?" you mock her, unzipping and unsheathing your arms out of the slim fitted sleeves fashioning your winter jacket.

"No, I got it." Ellie assures with a cluster of uncertainty smothering her strained voice. She had to practically arch over and bound the jar to her abdomen for faltering pressure.

"Gimme that." you snatch the glass from her dense grip, garnering a doubtful sneer skipping her lips.

"Like you'll get it." 

"You shouldn't be talking." you dart a wink.

Ellie flits a smug middle finger like the immature fiend she is, peeling the green jacket layering her pewter grey hoodie off. She tosses it astray to the ground, lurking towards a convenient couch and relaxing her butt against the nook of its armrest.

The lid refuses to subdue to your firm grip, feebly slipping and searing an exasperated groan gritting your teeth. Your instincts flash and wills an arm up to hurl the jar harshly against the stone ground, pulverizing the glass into countless shards.

"What, the fuck, is wrong with you?" Ellie halts at every syllable, gesturing with her palms like a shield to the jagged fragments.

"A lot."

Ellie gives a judgey once-over at your unbothered demeanor, hiking off the couch and crouching down to cautiously pinch a freed blunt from the debris, feathering the dust off and indulging a whiff held to her nostrils, "Smells good." she asserts, hoisting up and offering the joint to you.

"We' taking a detour?" you metaphorize, rotating the blunt like a wheel between your fingertips.

"We're trapped." Ellie educed a reminder wary of the billowing snowstorm that proved risky to tread earlier.

"Totally trapped." 

You both take harbor on the buffered sofa, bodies naturally vis-à-vis, a sheer four feet apart. Flicking the lighter cap open, plucking the tab and igniting the pocket flame whilst keeping your keen eyes on Ellies, who's piercing the windows to your soul with those juniper rings.

Ellie studies your face brazenly, locked on your profile as you kindle the blunt casually, lodging it between your lips to inhale a drag. Her optics tear an awkward barrier in the vacant space between you, now bidding a tension on the horizon. This makes you feel, seen, read like a poem, one that Ellie read often, and adored endlessly. Weed scorches the walls of your throat, eliciting a cough to spasm from your tight chest.

"Gah- fuck!" The spasmodic fit weaves through your distress, extended arm begging for Ellie to nab the source of your rasp from your jolting hand.

She snickers in belittlement at your expense, that dorky toothful smile crooking her rosy lips, "First time?"

"No."

"Liar." 

"You'll never know." 

Ellie's grin broadens prior to catering the blunt to her lips, pursing around the tip to drain a puff into her barren lungs. You take a gander at this sight, melting in the dimensional image of her woody auburn hair veiling a halo around her hung head, perking up to huff a thick smog enveloping you.

"What happened- last night, at the dance?" 

"You mean, with Dina?" she passes the blunt back, fingertips mingling a moment.

A hesitant drag soothes your lips, "Yeah, if you're uh- fine telling." Luckily, a cough doesn't plague you.

Ellie's cheeks lift a smirk, "It was a.. wild night. Dina.. kissed me and then Seth went bigot mode and said a not-so-nice word."

"Oh, shit." your brows rear and carve horizontal creases to your forehead, "You good?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just.. on edge. This helps though." she beams, nicking the smoldering blunt from you.

You couldn't divulge if she referred to you or the weed being her beacon of ease, but you dust off the thought. "So, you and Dina?" you inquire in a flirty mimic.

"N- it's.. just a kiss. She was drunk, I'm not gonna look into it- it doesn't mean anything." she stutters in a flustered haze.

Drawing some smoke in, then puffing it out, a smile invites itself on her pooling red midface and hijacks your attention.

"Why' you blushing then?"

"I'm not fuckin- fuck." Ellie's embarrassment stinges the sight of her smile as she flicks her head away, a cute sight to you that warrants your rising feelings at this moment.

"I think it's more than a kissss~" your tone curls playfully, nagging at Ellie's rattled state.

"You're on thin ice."

"A crimes' been committed, someone stole your heart!"

"I will come over there and fight you, no joke!" 

"Ellie's got a girl-" 

Out of the void, she has you pinned by the wrists under her clammy palm, sinking into the padded seat beneath you, auburn bang drooping like a pendulum over your face with the barely existing space between your faces. Senses plagued from the way gravity lashed out of you and hallucinogens deceived you, burrowing and growing like mold in the foggy vale of your skull.

"I don't have a girlfriend," Ellie utters through a sluggish jaw. "yet."

Your mind makes out an elusive meaning to her words, "You don't like Dina.."

Her lips calcify ajar, hot breath seeping into your buzzing skin, "It's someone else."

"Me?"

Her eyes waver, but strike up, "Yeah." she admits in a soft chuckle, wedging her thigh between your shut ones cunningly. You swear her pupils dilate like a supermoon.

A euphoric orb rings inside of your essence, thickening your veins and coating a cloak of boiling heat over your swelling hips wailing for a fucking when her voice brims your ears. This weed has really got your mind and panties in a pleasant twist. The confirmation of her liking- love? Maybe it's too soon, but it sure confirms your hidden suspicions.

"I think we needa get back to your place." Your words weigh heavy with intention.

"Fuck yeah we do." Ellie aligns with your suggestion, gnawing her tender lips with intention as well.

You both hustle off the tearing couch now tinted with a lustful sweat, not paying an ounce to sliding a coat on or gloves prior to, but not without pilfering some lone blunts scattered upon the floor, mounting your horse and galloping off.

���

The warmth of Ellie's garage-shed-home drinks you up graciously, biting back the bone-chilling skull-screaming fever of the merciless ice age outdoors. The locked door affirms you won't be bothered, so your nerves settle and excitement brews deep in you. A new heat bonds with your body physically, Ellie embracing you cordially and her face dominates your vision.

"We're here." Her husky voice streams pleasantly, "What now?" 

A chill races your spine, replying in a stutter, "L-let's do this on your bed." You heave out with desire, digging your nails into her hoodie-clad back.

Ellie descends slightly to tuck her hands under your knees, buckling you around her hips snug and lodging her crotch against your heat, the rivet of her jeans poking the valley of your clothed cunt, earning a choked whimper bearing pleasure. The ensuing moment, you're cast onto the cottony bed with Ellie crawling over you, latching her plump lips on your bare neck and peppering your neck with prompt and sloppy nibbles.

"You want this? Cus' I really want this~" her words muffle in the crook of your jaw. "But d'you?" she intoned against your ardent skin, hips bucking and rolling the lump of her denim into your clit, causing you to bear down and grind back in chase of those lovely whits of ecstasy.

"I want it.. so bad.." the tension piling since the couch at last reprieves through every respite and roll of her hips.

Bodies chafing together at Ellie's intended friction, more importantly, knee now rutting against your aching clit stirs a kugelblitz in the cavern of your pelvis. Ellie peeks her face over yours, tucking the apex of her nose aside before rolling her lips on yours with passion, smacking sounds filling your headspace.

"I've liked you for so long, yknow?" Ellie affirms on your lips, "I wanted you for so long."

The pure carnal burn tickles your skin, bubbling a sinful image behind your eyes and mouth ardent to bite down on her bottom lip in hunger.

"Fuck, babe-" Ellie breaks the kiss briefly to utter, dazed vision, via her arousal, tunneling into yours with wide pupils.

You grin, prying your thumb between your teeth in a way that appeals to her. A hand traverses your body and toys with the hem of your shirt before lurking under and grasping your bra-clad breast fondly.

"Ahh~" your voice creaks when her thumb shimmies under the bra and plays with your fervent buds.

"Like that?" Ellie's tone dwells with honeyed lust, so sweet yet so intoxicating.

Lips polarize together and spark a continuous blossom of arousal, soaking the panties and coating a flim on the denim in a portal shape. Bound by a sluggish spell, your limp arm snakes over your torso, fingertips stroking Ellie's forearm and folding under the rim of your shirt to pull it off, exposing bare skin lush with blemishes and scars, trailing along with your jeans almost torn off in a rush.

"Damn." Ellie's airy chuckle riffs in your head, prefacing a long flirty whistle.

"Stop.." A blush bruises your midface, darting away from her intense stare that crowds you with a shy rotation of your head.

"Hey, look at me." Her fingers forcep your chin, reeling your head back to drown in her sights like a gentle whisper of adoration, "I wanna make you feel good.." her words cruise in a promising melody.

That very declaration screws your core in delightful ways, waxing a breaking sweat over your already humid exterior, interior when it refers to something else.

A notion murmurs akin to a soft hollow echo betwixt your temples, ushering your body to motion. Your hands spring to clasp her unaware wrists, tussling her over and straddling her hips.

"Woah, okay. This works." Her lips spread to an exalted smile, palms perched on your thighs and digits prodding the viscose skin wrapping the crests of your hips, reading every stretch mark with her finger pads which adorns a satisfied beam to her eyes.

A slew of exhilaration crashes against the walls of your body, grinding that clothed sensitive bud on the ridge of her zipper fly, biting back a riff of moans.

"Lemme hear you." Her hand scales your body, thumb inching past your lips and hooking over your teeth, beckoning it ajar.

"Fuhhhck.." You thrill her with a droning groan, stirring your eager tongue around her thumb and suctioning a kiss around her knuckle as it adjusts beyond your teeth.

"Suck, babygirl." 

Obeying her word, your lips bolt around the root of her thumb, siphoning it further inwards on the plateau of your tongue and casting dozy sex eyes upon her.

"Good girl," Ellie's finger skims out from your teeth, leaving a trail of saliva down your chin.

Your hips wallow over the hill of her bunching jeans, feeling a finger embed and press up onto your clit, damping the tip of her willowy digit thinly and hollowing out a clamor of moans.

"I gotcha this wet?" A brazen smirk glamours her lower face, rousing her own elation with a weighted chafe of her thighs, "Fuck, baby."

A figment of her voice remains like a chant in your smothered mind, calling your eyes to shut and live in every sting of pleasure stimulating you.

"Hmnnn.. mmm~" you purr, unfathomable bliss influencing your actions with every roll of your bud.

"Can I take these off?" her fingertips peruse your pantyline, to which you nod, pleating them down your hips gently once you've granted the okay signal.

Your panties eventually get hurled somewhere in her room, probably dangling from the edge of her TV screens' rim or now invited to the pile of her own laundry, nonetheless, she honed in on your now stripped slit, spreading your legs with her own shuffling first, displaying your bareness split across her open thighs.

"Watch my fingers."

So you do, focused on her gliding hand grazing your thigh in an unhurried manner, coaxing the crevice melding your thigh and crotch before they split and part your folds. She gives you a once-over before dipping into your drenched core, sucking her fingers up like it knew her touch. Her fingers inside prove warm and filling, sliding through your clenched walls with ease and in return rewards you with a drunken and drowsy gaze from her seductive greenhouse glow eyes.

“You take me in so well, shit-” Ellie’s humid mutter seeps into the swirling skin of your temple, close proximity with her heaving chest and the aroma of her natural scent coating the chamber of your skull deeply.

Her skins aflame with an amber luminance and dampening, reeking of carnal ache through her sullied hoodie, so you slur out, “I wann-feel your skin’n mine..” you clutch on the band of her hoodie, knuckles prodding her firm abdomen.

"Fingers not enough?" Ellie's hoarse yet silky voice coos, fingers sliding from your sopping wet cunt and slick glazing her svelte digits beautifully.

"I need all of you." You lean and overshadow her stationary body, hastily pulling her hoodie over her head and ruffling her hair a smidge.

"Mhm, baby?" Ellie reposes her benign palms to your hips, fingernails indenting the plush skin of your ass and inscribing a reddened row of scratches, a daring idea lighting inside her head, "y'wanna sit on my face, pretty girl?" her husky tone thickens.

An answer spurns from your agape lips, instead winding your body to heed her suggestion and climb upwards towards her face, observing the way she bites her pink lips at the sight of your eagerness before your stature projects over her and offers a pleasing sight to her sex-swollen mind.

Your avidness turns her on, admittedly, "Fuck, babe- gonna clean y'up good, okay?"

Her greedy digits resume through your ocean-soaked folds, splitting them apart and sinking three fingers in, fiending for the profound warmth your core provides. They dip in nicely, entrance molding to the shape of her fingers, absorbing every intent feeling her curving knuckles elicit in your throbbing walls and the celestial heavens wash over you.

"Fuck me- oh god.."

"That's what I'm doing.." Ellie sneaks in a playful joke, a crook slanted smile smoothing her lips for a mere moment before swiping it away with her tongue 'wetting the whistle'. Her hunger lives for your taste, colliding timely with your clit and suckling the bud into her pressed lips, simultaneously pumping her fingers into your leaking pussy and forcing a spiking yelp from your unlatched mouth.

"Mmm, Ellie.." you whine, gripping on her already disheveled locks instinctively.

She doesn't reply, too focused on rolling the swelling bud with her nimble tongue flicking endlessly between your delicate folds. An arm buckles over your thigh, elbow adjacent to your hip crest and pinning you further against her deft lapping motions. Ellie knew what she was doing.

The curved fingers coaxing your g-spot sparingly is just enough stimulation to decay your functioning senses, "Els- El..Ellie.." you wail breathless, her tongue prying at the hood of your clit lovingly whilst suctioning inwards sends shockwaves down your legs and into your feet.

Ellie parts from your core, smeared with your slick gleaming down her chin. She sucks in the wetness dripping from her lips, "Tastes so good, babe- mm, so fuckin' hot." she steeps her vision in the perspective of your body elongated before her, eyeing like a precious gem.

You melt in the quickened pace of her fingers inside you, knuckles deep and brimming with arousal overflowing at the base of her fingers. The intense thrusting of your sobbing pussy ejects a melodious line of moans, "Fuuuuck…" masking the tantalizing noises of your heat slapping with Ellie's palm.

"Cum, babygirl, come on.." Her voice husks gravelly, deepening in your skull while numb-fucking you into oblivion with hawk eyes staring up at you.

Lubricous strings lash against your outer folds and inner thigh at each smack her hand endures, her tongue slurping up those juices pooling over your neglected clit adding an extra layer of lust incarnate ramming your walls to be released. Giving in, your nerves flare up and pulse around your opening, limbs tightening and clenching, especially around Ellie's lithe fingers, a sweet pleasure engrossing your entire essence with a rush of fluid spiraling down her knuckles.

"Good fuckin'- that's m'girl.." She growls inwardly against your stuffed cunt, thrumming from her chest igniting that attractive muffled voice she crowns.

You feel her fingers slip out, leaving a hollow sense rooting in your core. A suctioning sound comes from below you, noticing that Ellie had licked the taste of you from her pussy-drowned fingers. 

"God, Ellie.. where'd you learn that?" you huff out, still descending your head from the sun above.

"Experience." She discloses, not a fragment of bluffing behind those proud eyes, relishing in the way she drove you to boundless ecstasy. She announces, "I'm not done yet though." 

You inquire a bumbled facade until you hack her meaning just as she leverages you off her face with dual strong grips setting you to the side. Hoisting onto her knees, spinning 'round to rustle through her nightstand, equipped with a slightly beaten but sealed box once she faces you again.

"Fuck is that?" You ask with knitted brows, curving curiosity in your smirk.

"So, there was this sex store up in-"

"Ellie, is that a dildo?" you poke the box.

"Not- exactly no."

"Bitch, I'm gonna be getting a different kind of infection from that."

"It's sealed! The building was barely ruined or inhabited," She defends, gentle hands rubbing your folded knees. "I just wanna fuck you."

You bob your head languidly, bidding an unwarranted smile on your lips, "You did, though." 

"But I can do so much more.." Her face levitates towards yours, "If you want?" the corners of her mouth jerk, upholding that memorable smile, dimples, nasal lines and all.

"Obviously.. I want it.." your voice rumbles navelly, eyes fix on her pupils, narrowed lids and a siren visage.

"Head on the pillow then, princess." Ellie chuckles, hands mindlessly peeling open the box.

Your fingers linger on your bra, still on somehow, so you brace it off willingly, plopping into the cloudy pillow enveloping your sticky skin with a cotton case creasing like a halo surrounding your head.

Ellie dumps the box's contents out, a thick hunter green mass smacking your thigh, "Shit, sorry." she clasps the strap-on by its buckle, leading it off your thigh simultaneously to giggling.

"How long ago did you find that box anyway?"

"Like.. a month or two?" her voice curves, unsure.

"So, you've been planning this for 2 months?"

"I've liked you longer than that."

"Oh?"

"I didn't plan it, I just.. had the stray thought." Ellie's cheeks churn in a red tint, "But I always think of you, fake dick or not."

"It's fine, I wanted you for a while too, so it's mutual." you sync a blush, anticipating the hazy lust to clamor within you again, "Thought of you too."

A mischievous grin carves on her lower face, light eyes squinting, "Like, in bed-"

"Get that damn thing on already."

"Yes, ma'am!" Ellie resumes her motions, tearing the rest of her under garments off in a pinch, bare alongside you. She fastens the strap on snug, jabbing into her untended clit that jams a groan out of her diaphragm.

"Neglected a bit?" you tease.

"Shut up." she hushes in a honeyed mumble, slouching slightly and grasping the mimicked shaft, spitting into her unoccupied palm and massaging the length graciously, "There we go.." she hums deeply.

Next thing, Ellie's hoisted your bottom between her thighs and legs hugging her hips loosely, seconds away from cramming the entire base into your over-sensitive pussy. She runs the tip through your delicate folds, sloshing the lewd slickness around which is music to your ears. Her eyes darted over to capture yours, withholding the appetite for one last affirm of consent; "Ready babe?"

"Mhm." You nod with zero hesitation, squirming your hips in timidness for what might be brought upon your foggy senses.

Ellie leans her body over you, sinking the tip between your slippery walls and gauging you in one quick swing of her hips. 

"Fuck!" Bliss clogs your throat but overdrive knots in your pelvis, implanting your bottom deeper in the sheets as a means of reprieving the inferno of overstim just slightly.

Ellie lends you a moment of adjustment, asking in a silky tone, "Can I start moving?" her face a breath away from yours, arms like pillars locking you between her hands.

"Please.." you secure your legs around her hips, nicking her in the butt with the heel of your foot playfully, "fuck me.."

Ellie's muscles tense in excitement, fierce craving looms in her face and her hands run down to grip your hips in a carnal fashion as she sinks you deeper on her base, uttering under a hush, "I'll fuck the shit out of you."

Following that, you embrace her close to you as her hips begin to crash against yours slowly, akin to a wave, hollowing and filling as she pumps her hips flawlessly. 

Tickling whimpers purring from your lips linger around the base of her ear, encouraging her to speed up slightly, chromatically raising the pitch of your pleasure, "Els…" you whine.

The strap jerks back at every thrust, chafing with her sensitive clit in provoking ways that draw out steamy breaths from her every moan. Friction beguiled her to pace faster, digging the straps base into her bud deeper, heaving a "Fuck, baby, fuck!" from that groggy voice as your hips knead together, her fingernails scraping your plush bottom instinctively.

You cast your head back towards the headboard, displaying a tidal of curses surfing from your throat at the top of cloud nine, "Yes! god.. harder.." 

"Say my name.." 

"Els-E-Ell.." you struggle as your voice gets smothered by every buck her hips produce.

"Come on.. you can do it." she motivates you in a sugary sweet coo.

"Ellie!" you wail, "Ellie.." 

"Good girl."

Ellie snaps and throws her torso up, clutching your tender hips and slamming them down on her eased cock, front slapping harshly against your bottom with aiding wetness splayed across your legs, her face contorting one of strain at the sheer intensity her speed proves to be.

"Mm, fuck!" You writhe in erotic contentment, stunned by the pure sensations sweeping your nerves and swirling around your pelvis, she's fucking you so good, your minds' all mush.

Ellie bites back her ceaseless rasps, riveted on the way your breasts bounce restlessly with every pound, bewitched by the sight and honestly almost drooling since her mouth was just open. She groans, "You gonna cum again? Hmm?" her thrusting falters and begins to get sloppy, out of breath.

"A-huh! Hmmnn.." your vision blurs and you fall into a dizzying spire, fucked out of your mind and on the verge of snapping.

"Yes.. yess.." Ellie mewls out, the dark amber strand sticking to her drenched forehead, emanating a beautiful glow across her body that weaved every groove her toned muscles bestowed, highlighting her drooping lids, agape mouth and taut forehead creasing when fucking felt just right.

All the feelings bubble up, the strap hitting your g-spot so perfectly, fogging your mind and tossing your coordination out the window. She descends her head towards your neck, sanguine bites lathered upon your shoulder and crook of your neck.

"Ellie- I'm gonna.."

"Me too." She huffed out, slamming your hips down in unison with her movement, a sheet of slick glazed between both of your crotches causing a wet slap to occur with each thrust, "Open up more, babe." her hands trail to your thighs, forcing them apart .

"It's s'fhukin g-mmm.." your voice slurs and cuts off.

"Shhhshh… shh.. I know.." her lips drag against your ear, prideful eyes drowning in your fucked out face, proud of her work. 

The swelling knot in your pelvis finally snaps, sending you quivering in her arms. Lewd moans clatter against the rooms walls, orgasm overwhelming your systems and gyrates your brain on a down spiral. Muggy sweat cloaks your entire body and hinders a steady breath from grazing your lungs.

Ellie's pelvis doesn't hesitate to halt, colliding with yours and rendering your already fried senses into a numbing and jittery state. She chases her own climax, hosting a melody of moans into your ears as she approaches release, "Fuck~ fuck fuhhckk.. babe." she squints harshly, driving her clit into the strap's base fiending for release.

"Els.." you whine, bracing the eruption of overstim.

"Just hold on, baby, hold'n.. uhh- fuck." Ellie's neck tightens and narrows her voice into a groan, gripping your wrist with a might to bear down her intense orgasm, sexy low growls thrumming from her chest. Her body falls flat on you in immediate exhaustion, burrowing the strap deep inside at a pause.

A laugh entrances you, "Felt good, hmm?"

"I should be asking you.. shit.." Ellie's chest rises sporadically against you as she syncs a giggle, sliding her hips away and taking the strap off without batting an eye so she could pepper you with smooches enraptured in a cuddle.

"It was good.. really fuckin' good."

Your reply seeps into her mind, inviting a sheepish smile to her face, "So.. does this mean, you'll be my… girlfriend?" a chuckle spurts out to clear any awkwardness.

That same pre-sex shy blush paints your face, replying, "Yeah, hell yeah."

"Okay.. you wanna, stay here tonight?" Ellie suggests with soft yet worn out eyes, fiddling with the hair cascading from your scalp.

"Of course, I don't think I can walk anywhere now." you quip, whisking your finger over her nose tip.

"Yeah.. bet I was better than any guy." She praises herself, beaten fingers tracing shapes on your chest.

"At least you get to choose your size."

"Pfft, you're funny." A brilliant laugh brushes past her lips, with a mellow whisper, "and so pretty." her thumb swipes your cheek.

You wrap your snug thighs enveloping her body, "You too, Williams." 

"Still calling me that? I thought I said-" 

You seal her lips with a prolonged kiss, dragging your lips against hers in a hypnotic passion, getting her to engage in something a bit longer than a lone kiss. She indulges without a second thought, slurping you up and tasting every inch of your-

A knock pounds your hearing and the door, adjourning the steamy makeout for a different time.

The voice behind the knocking calls out, "Yo, Ellie! You in there?" unmasking itself to be Jesse.

"Shit!" she yells, "Be right there!" and scurries off the bed, hunting for her under garments frantically.

You quickly bolt off the bed and swoop your undergarments, nearly toppling over as you shimmy your underwear on hurriedly but fortunate enough to catch your fall with some clamorous foot thumps to the wooden floor.

"What's goin' on in there? You fightin' a runner in there?" Jesse quips, his voice deadened by the walls.

"Ye- No!" Ellie stammers in a rush, managing to yank her jeans up and throw a bland white shirt over it, oblivious to the fact that it was inside-out, seams bulking and tag visible.

You were on the brink of raising a question to Ellie, but bite it back as she swings the door open and you cling to the closet adjacent to but behind the open door, not without a blow from your back against its rattling nature that had Ellie spooked for a split second.

"What're you doing here?" Ellie inquires, crossing her arms to appear unbothered.

"Heard you had quite a night after I left." His voice clarifies, streaming through the open door.

"It-" Her response defects, "She kissed me. Dina being Dina, it doesn't mean anything-"

"Wait, you kissed Dina?" Jesse interjects her reply, voice curving in curiosity.

"Oh, I thought-"

"We're broken up one week and you make a move on my girl?"

"No- She was the one- I don't even.." Ellie corners herself into a distraught state.

"I'm messing with you man, I don't care. I just swung by to tell you Maria switched up the assignments for tomorrow, you're up for more patrol."

"Seriously? I thought I'd get-"

"Hey why's your shirt inside out? Did you really get tangled up with a runner in there?" He jokingly peeks into the room, jolting back when Ellie's forearm bars him out randomly.

"None of your business, I get it now you can go." She sternly affirms, slowly creaking the door closed.

"What'chu hidin' in there?"

"Go!" Ellie strikes the door shut on his face, secretly flipping him off from the opposite site under the knob.

"Unholy fuck-"

"Next time try not to wake the dead with your footsteps!" She snaps back at you through an adorned smile, on edge from the unexpected, interrupting, visit.

"Like I said I can barely walk from your-"

Ellie strides up in a pacey fashion, cradling your head from the back in her palms, linking lips with yours soulfully. 

You press your lips, dawdling with hers and soaking in the taste of breath and flesh. It feels so good to expose your love, animated for her in this moment now, like a singing felicity in your heart. She parts, engulfing you in her olive irises before she croaks.

"Say we.. get back to bed? I wanna show you my drawings.." A sugary murmur trampling her usually husky voice.

"Yeah.." you wriggle your lips in a creeping smirk, leveraging your weight from one leg to the other.

"C'mere." Ellie creaks before tackling you onto the bed, burying you with infinite ticklish kisses along your face, a declaration of unfiltered affection in her lasting intentions.

"Ellie! That tickles.."

"Good."

hope you enjoyed!!! <3

MASTERLIST

[archiveikemen]

"Dark If" Story Event: Chapter 2

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games.

Read this before interacting

It had been several days since I came to the castle. … But my situation remained unchanged. 

No matter how begged him to, the fairy refused to break the curse or even extend the deadline. 

(I’m forbidden from leaving the castle too, so I don't have any other options…)

What hurt me even more was Ellis. 

Ever since learning about his connection with Jude, I’ve started actively avoiding him. 

(Just this morning…)

= Flashback Start = 

Ellis: Good morning, Kate. I brought breakfast.

Ellis: I’ve got your favourite freshly baked bread with raspberry jam. 

Kate: …

Ellis: … I don’t mind if you don’t talk to me, but please eat. I’m worried about you.

Ellis: You won’t have energy without water, nutrients, and sunlight…

= Flashback End = 

Feelings of guilt welled up in me again when I recalled the sadness in his face as he left. 

(I really do want to go back to being friends like we were, but I just can’t find the right chance…) 

I wandered into the castle garden to clear my mind. 

Looking at the briar made me think of him—

Kate: … Ellis…

I unintentionally called out his name. 

In an instant, the briar in the garden rustled and crept towards me— suddenly, small white flowers bloomed from them. 

(... It’s almost as though they’re trying to cheer me up.)

(I remember how I used to see briar as my friend.) 

During my childhood, being a princess meant that I didn't have many people I could talk freely with and was hence often feeling lonely…

I’d always talk to the briar growing in the castle’s back garden. 

(I’d tell it all sorts of silly things… like how much I loved raspberry jam or how the air smells after it rains.)

(... Come to think of it, I gave the briar a name too.)

There was once where a gardener tried to clear out the briar for being a nuisance, so I gave it a name to protect it. 

“This is my friend! Don’t cut it away! It even has a name, it’s—” 

(I… what did I name that briar again?) 

I tried my best to recall… but in the end, I couldn't remember it at all. 

Still, the flowers blooming from the briar were a beautiful sight and gave me the courage to apologise to Ellis for my recent attitude towards him. 

Kate: I wonder where Ellis is right now…

Just as I muttered those words under my breath, the briar started stretching in one direction. 

Kate: Are you… pointing me towards Ellis?

When I asked, half-convinced, more white flowers bloomed rapidly as though telling me that I was right.

Kate: Thanks, I’ll follow you. 

Having grown accustomed to the peculiarities of the fairytale world, I followed after the briar. 

…

(Oh, there’s Ellis… and is that Jude with him?)

Ellis: — Why don't you break Kate’s curse, Jude?

Ellis: She really wishes for you to.

Jude: Ha? Don’t ask me such stupid questions. I’m tryin’ to do somethin’ ‘bout her illness, ain’t I? 

(Do something about my “illness”...?) 

(The thing I have is a “curse”, isn’t it? … What illness is he talking about?)

Kate: What do you mean by that, Jude?

Jude: W-when did ya… were ya eavesdroppin’? 

Ellis: Jude. Kate looks like she really wants to know, so just tell her about it.

Kate: Please do…! 

Jude: … 

Jude sighed… and began telling a truth I never knew.

Apparently, I had an incurable disease and my time was limited.

Jude learned of this by chance and in an attempt to help me, he cursed me so that I would fall into a deep slumber for 100 years right before my death. 

Jude: After ya fall asleep, I’ll spend that 100 years searchin’ for a cure and pay back my debt. 

Kate: So you were trying to help me… thank you for that.

Kate: But why didn't you clear up the misunderstanding earlier?

Judes … Says the daughter of the stupid King who won’t listen to a damn thing anyone tells him. 

Kate: I-I’m sorry my father was rude… 

Kate: … But I’m glad I found out about it now.

Kate: It means I won't have a misunderstanding towards you anymore… and I don’t have to think I’ve been “betrayed” by Ellis. 

Ellis: … So does that mean we can go back to being friends? 

Kate: If you’re alright with it, of course. … I’m sorry for treating you so coldly. 

Ellis: I didn’t mind, so you don’t have to worry about that either.

Seeing Ellis’ smile at me like flowers blooming had my heart racing again.

— It felt like it was urging me to realise something, a certain feeling. 

…

Later that night, after Ellis and I cleared up the misunderstanding between us and reconciled.

Ellis suddenly asked me a question after dinner.

Ellis: You don’t need Jude to break your curse anymore?

Kate: Of course not! The purpose of Jude’s curse is to keep me alive, after all.

Ellis: …

Kate: … Ellis? 

Although I thought my answer was to be expected, Ellis looked surprised.

I began to worry if I had said something strange. 

Ellis: If you’re fine with the curse not being broken…

Ellis: … Does that mean you still want to live? 

Kate: …? Yeah. There are things I still have to do… 

Although I had put it on hold for a while, I needed to find what was missing from this story and correct the twists. 

(Oh… but if I fix the twist and return to my original world…)

(I won’t be able to be together with Ellis anymore.) 

When I first came to this fairytale world, all I could think about was that I had to find a way back… 

But along the way, I started feeling like I didn't want to leave. The main reason was Ellis.

(I want to spend more time with Ellis.) 

(I want to eat delicious food with him, enjoy beautiful sights together… I’d even love to go on another journey with him.)

(I want to know more about Ellis. I want to see his smile from even closer to him…) 

Those desires flowed endlessly through me, filling my heart with a strong yearning. 

(Could this feeling be… love?) 

That said, my life was still in danger and it wasn't the right time to be confessing to him. 

(I’ve decided… once my illness is cured, I’ll tell Ellis about my feelings.)

However, while I was making that decision, I didn't notice that Ellis’ twilight coloured eyes had darkened and clouded over. 

…

And so, the search for a cure to my illness began. 

Although, in reality, it was Jude who did most of the actual searching and mixing potential medicine while Ellis took down the pursuers sent by my father and the assassins targeting Jude. 

Meanwhile, I took care of our meals, clothes, and living space, supporting them in their everyday lives. 

— But there was no progress, and time continued slipping away. 

…

Jude: … We’re short on medicinal ingredients, so I’m headin�� out. Be back in half a day. 

Although he’d never admit it, Jude looked worn out as he spoke before leaving the castle.

(Is it really alright to leave everything to Jude? Maybe there’s more I could be doing to help…)

Ellis: … Something on your mind, Kate?

Kate: Yeah. I’m just… frustrated that all I can do is watch from the sidelines…

Ellis: I see… is there anything I can do to help? 

Ellis: I like you, so I want to give you strength.

Kate: eh.

(W-what kind of “like” does he mean…?)

I was a blushing mess but when I glanced at Ellis’ facial expression, he looked the same as always… he didn't look like he was confessing his love. 

Kate: Just in case… Ellis, do you like Jude? 

Ellis: Jude? Yeah, I do. I owe him, after all.

Kate: I-I see…

(... Thank goodness I didn't jump to conclusions. Ellis’ definition of “I like you” is platonic!) 

It was a little disappointing, but I quickly regained my composure and returned to the topic. 

Kate: Umm, anyway… I think I should do some research on my illness too.

Kate: Will you help me?

…

And so, we made our way to the study that Jude said was off-limits to us.

Kate: Found it! 

Thanks to Jude’s meticulous personality, it didn't take long for us to find what we were looking for. 

The research report about my illness was stored neatly in one of the desk drawers. 

Kate: Um, let's see… “Briar Disease”?

According to the report, I contracted the disease by pricking myself on the thorns of a special kind of enchanted briar. 

(Briar? Could it be…) 

I was suddenly reminded of the briar I would talk to as a child. 

(I remember being pricked by one of them and coming down with a high fever.)

(... Maybe that’s when I contracted this illness.)

“When the time comes, the thorn embedded in the body will rapidly grow, destroying the patient from their insides and ultimately resulting in death.” 

“The only solution is to completely eliminate the existence of the briar the thorn came from, whether it is by burning or other means.” 

As I read further, I found out that Jude had already identified the briar in question and it grew in the royal castle’s back garden.

However—.

“The briar is stubborn and unyielding, resisting all attempts to eliminate it.” 

“It's a monstrous plant that regenerates even when burned or cut down. All efforts were in vain.” 

Kate: So Jude concluded that it’s impossible to destroy the briar and started researching other ways to cure the illness.

Ellis: Yeah, he really tried every method he could come up with. He drowned it, froze it, burned it… you name it. 

Ellis: The most painful one was when he chopped it up. 

(Ellis was involved in trying to kill the briar too…)

(Since the briar is thorny, holding it while chopping it up must've hurt really badly.) 

Ellis: … Hey, Kate.

Ellis: Do you truly want to cure your illness and continue living? 

(I want to live, and… I want to keep talking to Ellis more and more.)

Kate: Yeah… of course.

Ellis: I see… so that’s your current wish. 

Ellis: It’s… different from back then. 

For some reason, Ellis wore a rather lonely smile. 

Kate: Ellis…?

Ellis: … I understand your feelings. Well then, let’s go.

Ellis: If we go now, we can kill the briar. 

[seattlesellie]

knight!ellie x princess!reader drabble. ♡🗡️🕯️

an: since i’m thinking of writing a full fic of knight ellie x princess reader i wanted to know what you guys think ! let me know if i should turn this into something way longer. just a lil peak of the themes of a longer fic 💗

cw: mature themes, reader is a little lonely, tension.

the moon is so bright, so big, so white, luminous, it reflects in her emerald eyes and renders them almost mystical, bordering on the verge of the unreal. one couldn't help but wonder if she herself was not entirely real, a specter of dreams made flesh. do you recall those distant days of childhood? just eight years old, insisting that your imaginary friend — aurora, was right by your side? you clung to her like a lifeline. you'd shed tears as your mother, the reigning queen, denied the request for an extra place setting, an empty plate reserved for aurora alone. how you fell asleep bawling, tasting salt on your tongue, bitter and sickening, feeling as if you were drowning in your sleep, the specter of aurora growing gaunt and wretched, as though starved for existence.

how you woke up plagued by guilt, tormented by a high fever and a stubborn eye infection, crying and screaming for your imaginary best friend. and how from that day on, the castle fell empty. you wandered around, through those regal halls like a specter, floating like a brittle ghost, nodding politely when a maid curtsied in reverence, offering a feeble smile to the steward as he addressed you as his cherished princess.

you filled your duties, all your royal obligations, attended to your classes, spoke only when spoken to by your parents, ignored when another royal called you a “loony” when catching you in the midst of a conversation with several alabaster rabbits.

you formed a connection with the world around you, a bond that ran far deeper than what met the eye, and now one knew.

you rub on your eyelids with the back of your hand, and blink in dismay — oh, you’ve been mistaken, she is real, and her abdomen rises and falls with each breath, the clang of her armor a testament to her existence, to your sanity. her eyelids flutter, and her throat subtly moves as she swallows. a strand of her auburn hair sways in the wind too, but sweet aurora’s hair also danced in the breeze, so who knows.

sometimes it all is simply too blurry.

for now, you choose to believe.

the grass tickles your bare toes, you don’t laugh.

“hate being a princess” you mutter with a sigh, tilting your head to the side — her side, to see if perhaps she vanished like the rest of them, yet finding her there.

her role as a knight is dictated with silence in your presence, a mere executor of commands from your father with a duty to bow in submission, so she doesn’t respond. all she has to do is be your protector, keep you safe and guarded, make sure you won’t try and run once more.

she’s also not supposed to help you with your clandestine escapades from the castle, she’s not supposed to lay in the tall royal gardens ridiculously green grass with the princess, to allow the opulent and delicate fabric of her dress to gently brush against the barest portion of her knee. yet — she allows it.

she’s not supposed to help you pick flowers and greet you good morning, she was supposed to be unyielding as stone, almost ephemeral yet ever-present.

and now your ankle shifted to rest gently against hers, and she didn’t even nudge you.

“i despise it” you repeat. you try and voice your frustration but it comes off as too soft. ellie typically abhorred anything soft. she’d rather sleep on a hard mattress than a plush one, favored stomping over floating.

and yet you seem to be an exception.

you seem to be an exception for lots of things.

and ellie doesn’t respond. she blinks at the full moon and it blinks back at her.

“do you like being a knight?”

you think you may have heard a breathy chuckle. you’re unsure, you sigh.

“ellie?”

and she never told you her name. you figured it out by yourself.

then she begins, pink tongue folding and moistening her lower lip. “i like being your knight”, she blinks thrice, in a hurry — like she said something wrong, as though she feared she might have offended anyone else whose knight she was not. she takes a deep breath, for some reason it's shaky.

“i like, i- need, to protect the kingdom. it’s my duty. for the sake of your father, the people, you — you know that, my princess”

and usually you’d cringe when addressed with that title. you voiced it already — that title isn’t you, you don’t want it, it felt like a burdensome label imposed or cursed upon your birth, but for some reason, when she says it ; “my princess” it feels like her “my”, is the one that holds the power to cloud your mind. and that’s why you don’t argue that it isn’t your name, because she calls you as hers, and oh how bad you want to be hers.

you overheard the conversations among the other young royals, who spoke in hushed tones about "crushes." you eves dropped and furrowed your brows intently when they talked about the charming sable boy, a dark haired prince from a faraway land, an adviser. they described the feeling of having a crush as if they were “falling”, “giddy”, “thrilled”, “like riding a horse, really really fast”

and it never really happened to you, albeit you really did try. you just accepted it, you’d be crush-less forever, forced to marry a crush-less prince, forced to live a crush-less life.

then you met knight ellie.

it happened when she removed her bascinet, when she casually tossed her tousled auburn locks from side to side, when she smiled that sly smirk then immediately wiped it off and glued her gaze to the stone wall. it was in the way her eyes met yours, her all but graceful bow, and the sound of her armored knee meeting the ground, when she chuckled after winning the battle of who would be the princesses knight. how cocky she looked as her arm was raised in triumph, only to transform into humble grace when officially declared the winner.

but it wasn't a feeling akin to falling; it was more like crashing down. you also didn’t feel giddy, you felt nauseous and tight everywhere, you weren’t thrilled you were petrified, and you didn’t ride a horse really fast — it was more like being thrown off the horse and crashing onto the ground, nose-first.

so it didn’t feel like crushing, it felt like something else. and you really had to go to the washroom.

“you don’t… owe anything to the kingdom, or to my father” you murmur.

she really doesn’t. it got her family starved, killed. “i do” she lies, swallowing thickly. “also, i really don’t need protection” then you lie, rolling your eyes with a huff.

she'd call you a brat if she wasn't your knight, and if she knew for certain that you wouldn't go running to your father after being offended.

“i should run away” you muse, idly toying with the hem of your dress. ellie sees the bare flesh of your thigh and she feels like maybe she shall run away as well. then her breath hitches down her throat, and she really hates it because this isn't the first time. perhaps she's sick, a throat infection. it's getting very hard to breathe.

t'must be the armor, the decides.

then she decided it's not.

it's simply the cold night air. definitely not your naked thigh, or your hunger to be free, or the way your dress flows with the wind, or the way your eyelashes flutter and your fingertips tap tap tap on your plushy lips.

“should i fetch the horse then, my princess? which one d'ya want, charlie... or buster, maybe. he's a strong one” ellie croons then swallows a chuckle.

she’s also not supposed to joke with you. or to stare at your thigh, or to let you place your head on her armored chest.

“yes” you reply like she’s serious.

then a cloud veils the once-bright moon, and your knight clears her throat.

“i should take you to your room, freedom warrior, s’getting late”

“you shall take me to the forest to pick some blackberries, knight”

ellie chuckles and argues back. “i shall not”

“disobeying a royal?” you say with a wink.

you might actually be the death of her.

[asoiafsworld]

BELONG TO YOU - one

pairing; ellie williams x fem!reader

summary; you're new on campus and ellie notices you. despite your shyness and struggles of being anti social, you can't help but fall in love with her.

warnings and tags; modern!au, college!au, dealer!ellie, reader is shy, anxiety, depression, fluff, angst, eventual smut, touch starvation, ellie has a dick in this, reader is also pretty innocent, might make a kink out of it, drug abuse, obsessiveness, love at first sight kinda thing

author's note; i folded. im finally writing for my lovely ellie and feel like this is the worst thing i have ever written lmao. i was going to write all of this in like a very long one chapter thing but i literally can't so here's what u get. not even sure if i wanna continue this but if u guys like it i might. thanks for reading, pls tell me what u think of it <3

two

You feel lost.

You’re new to this place, new to this city, new to these people. You never expected to get away from your past, awful life and you’re still not sure if you have. Because you look around and observe the people at campus, see everyone with their friend groups or romantic partners and feel so utterly alone. You always have been, always too shy to talk to someone and too awkward to hold a conversation… or a friendship. Not that anyone ever thought you were worth being friends with.

It’s always been suffocating, this loneliness, this darkness that overtakes your mind when it’s quiet and you’re alone. You get that feeling when you sit under a tree in the park on campus and watch and observe the people around you. It’s not like you’re being ignored, you would have to be acknowledged first to be ignored. But people walking past you and not giving a single fuck about your existence is somewhat hurtful. One guy even stepped on your book earlier and didn’t even apologize to you. It was closed, thankfully, but it made you keep your things closer to you, making your little bubble smaller than it already is. You take a deep breath and look away from the crowded park and back down on your notes, distracting yourself from your self deprecating thoughts.

The moment that you look down, she looks up. Ellie’s gaze only wanders over you for a split second and she was going to let her gaze go over the park and the many people that she knows and sells to. But her brain works a second later than her eyes do so she looks back to the lone figure sitting under the tree, hair spilling down as your eyes sharply go over the notebook in your hands. Ellie is mesmerized for some reason, unable to look away from you and your pretty face and your legs enveloped in bright blue jeans and your fingers tracing the words on your book and your breasts pushing up as you breath-

“Earth to Ellie? Hello? You having a stroke or something?” Her eyes break away forcefully from you to look at her friend, Dina, who is looking at her with a questioning but amused glint in her eyes. Her mouth is working faster than her brain so the question doesn’t fully register until she says it.

“Do you know who that is? The girl under the tree? Never seen her before.” Dina’s eyebrows raise at the question and she turns around to look at where Ellie’s eyes have strayed to once more. She watches you take out your pen from your bag and scribble something down on your notebook, your lips puckering as you’re writing. It’s as if you don’t realize how pretty your lips look like this, how Ellie has to restrain her mind from thinking of something totally inappropriate. She doesn’t even know you, not even your name but the way you sit there all alone and almost helplessly lonely makes something in her stir. You shouldn’t be alone when she knows how many disgusting boys are at this college, even if it’s at a park with so many people out on a sunny day.

“Yeah, she’s new, moved into the empty room at the end of our hall. Pretty sure she’s next to your room.” Dina has turned her head back around and can’t hide the little smirk that forms on her face when she sees Ellie staring. She takes another second to let her eyes linger on you, on how gorgeous you look when the sun shines down on you before she stands up. She walks towards you with confidence and determination, not even entirely sure why. You just look so pretty to her, the way you sit there and study whilst everyone else is doing anything but studying. Something in her gut and in her chest stirs when she sees you sitting alone and looking seemingly sad. She doesn't think that anyone else notices but she sees that you look a little helpless, like a lost puppy not knowing where to go.

For some reason, she wants you to go to her.

You don’t realize that someone stands in front of you until a shadow is cast over you and your book, making it difficult to see your notes. When you look up, you see a tall girl in a crew neck shirt and an unbuttoned denim work shirt over it. She’s wearing faded blue jeans and blue converse, her brown, shoulder length hair partially tied to keep it out of her face. Her eyes are pale green and piercing as she looks down on you, the gaze in her eyes so intense but looking at you with all the ease in the world. Your heart races at this, so unused to someone looking at you or approaching you. You grip your book tightly to keep yourself from getting up and running away and hope she says something before you have to.

“Hi. Mind if I sit next to you?” Her voice sounds clear as she speaks, no hesitation or doubt in the way she speaks and even stands in front of you. You’re taken aback by her question and desperately suppress the urge to ask why she wants to be next to you. You don’t know her, only remember that she lives in the room next to yours and that there’s always people coming and going out of her room. You’ve seen her recieve money at her door sometimes in exchange for… god knows what she is giving other people, you wouldn’t know. You nod slowly and try not to look overly confused at her as she sits down right next to you, the body heat she radiates so close to you that it almost throws you off. You don’t know the last time someone sat this close to you and don’t want to think further about the feeling you often feel when you watch other people hug or kiss each other or hold hands. Touch starving, that’s what the internet called it when you googled it. You know that it’s true because you do not remember the last time you hugged someone or felt physical touch in any form. You feel so embarrassed when you accidentally brush against someone in the hallways because most of the time, your body craves more of that touch.

You are unsure of what to do now with someone sitting next to you, your breath held in carefully as if the world would shatter if you breathed out. Why is she sitting next to you? Did you do something wrong? You stare down at the book in your lap but can’t really think when there’s someone, a very pretty girl actually, sitting right next to you. There’s a slight breeze that hits you from the side and it carries the girl's scent with it, earthy and lemony from something that you can’t place. You like the smell, it suits her. You turn your head slightly and see that she’s been looking at you this entire time, the gaze in her eyes studying you and a small smile formed on her lips. God, she’s so gorgeous, it truly takes your breath away. She proceeds to hold a hand out to you and you look down to it before looking back up.

“I’m Ellie.” She says and and you smile slightly at how sweet she seems, introducing herself to a complete stranger. You briefly wonder how lonely you must have looked for Ellie to approach you and try not to think about it for too long. You tell her your name, your voice a little too shaky and too unsure, as if you just came up with your own name. You put your hand into hers and dig your finger into your palm on your other hand because this much body contact is not something you are used to. Your hand is smaller than hers and it looks tiny in her bigger, warmer hand. You almost don’t want to let go because her warmth and touch make something stir in your gut, something comforting and wholesome that you don’t know if you’ve ever felt before. It takes a lot of willpower for you to break your hand away from hers, willing to let it stay in hers for as long as she would let you but you shouldn’t scare her off right away.

“So, you’re pretty new here. What’s your major?” Ellie is captivated by the girl in front of her. You are even prettier up close and Ellie has a hard time not looking at your lips constantly or your tiny hand that fits into hers twice over. You look confused and helpless, even if you try to hide it and it makes Ellie’s heart hurt a little. Why do you seem so scared of even talking to anyone? And why is Ellie so interested in you? She doesn’t know why she even came over here but the moment she saw you, every nerve in her brain only had one goal: to talk to you. You look at her with an unreadable look in our eyes and nervously brush your hair behind your ear.

“Uhm, M-marine Biology.” You feel heat rise to your cheeks at your stutter and hope she doesn’t notice it. She seems perceptive enough that she probably does but also tactful enough to not comment on it. Her eyebrows raise a little at your answer and you hope she doesn’t think it’s lame. You don’t know why you don’t want her to think you’re lame.

“Marine biology… That’s pretty cool.” Your heart does a little flip at the way she draws her words out and you can hear a slight accent in her voice. It sounds southern but it’s not that noticeable. “So, you like fish?”

The question is so silly that it takes you aback and you do something that you never do in front of other people; you giggle. You hope it doesn’t sound stupid to her because it certainly does to you and you quickly bite your lip to stop yourself. You look at her again and now have a small smile on your lips that seems to make her smile in return. She’s so incredibly attractive, the way she sits with her knees drawn up and her hair tied back and her eyes looking at you in a certain way that you can’t describe.

“Yeah, I guess I do. What’s your major?” You mentally give yourself a pat on the back for your progress on socializing but talking to someone like this is still unknown territory for you. You’re still incredibly nervous next to her and hope you don’t say something stupid.

“Fine arts. Was always interested in it, I draw a lot and I guess I’m pretty good at it… or something.” The way Ellie bashfully scratches the back of her head and blushes at the last part makes your chest feel warm, for whatever reason. She seems like an artistic kind of person, the tattoos on her arms catching your attention and wondering if she drew them herself. She must be talented, you think to yourself. How couldn’t she be with hands like hers.

You are distracted by the sound of her name being called and look towards a girl with dark hair and sharp, memorable features. She’s pretty, very pretty and looks at Ellie impatiently. You wonder if that’s her girlfriend, certain of Ellie being gay with the way she carries herself and… sits. And wears converse. Your heart hurts at that thought and you feel incredibly stupid for it. Ellie sighs next to you and gets up, looking back down at you with an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, I promised my friend Dina to drive her downtown. But… Maybe you would like to see my drawings? Or just, hang out. We’re neighbors after all.” You can’t pretend that hearing her call the girl her friend doesn’t make you relieved and the small smile is on your face again as you feel better at the revelation. You don’t know if you should let news like this affect you the way they do but how could you not cling onto every detail when someone talks to you like a friend… for maybe the first time since you were a child. You nod as you stare and memorize her face, her pretty freckles captivating you.

“Yeah, I would like that.” Your voice is soft as you speak and you play with your fingers to distract yourself, swallowing as you see the way she stares down at you. Her hand reaches towards you and gently, so softly, she brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. Her finger brushes over your cheek so delicately that your stomach twists at the touch and you genuinely don’t know how to keep yourself sane. Your lashes flutter softly at her touch but your eyes remain locked on hers, desperate to hear her say something else or let her touch your however she wants to.

“I’ll see you then.” Ellie pulls her finger away gently and turns around, walking towards her friend. You watch as Ellie moves further and further away from your point of view until she is not even visible but you have barely come back to your senses by then. You exhale the breath you held in and softly close your eyes, touching the cheek that she had touched so softly. The moment keeps replaying in your mind, her intense gaze not faltering for once as she looks down at you like she can do whatever she wants, like… like she owns you.

You’re embarrassed by how much you like that thought. All your life, you have been alone, your family estranged and abusive, no friends to keep you sane, your mentality and shyness not allowing you to make friends. And here comes this girl, this gorgeous, pretty, intimidating girl that just sits next to you and touches you like she’s never done anything different. She seems like the kind of person that makes you feel safe, that protects you and takes care of you. The kind of person that you belong to.

She’s a stranger. You barely know her and yet, you can’t help your thoughts. You want to belong to her.

[tateypots]

His Favourite Holiday

Joel x f!reader

Word Count 4.9K

18+ MDNI NON-CON

Summary: Being a ghost is super boring until a little Halloween power surge means Joel can finally get his hands on you.

A/N: I know this won’t be for everyone so please heed the warnings before reading, please protect yourself, I am not responsible for what you consume on the internet. Let me know if I missed anything. Written for @mermaidgirl30 Jamie’s Halloween Writing Challenge

TW: non-consensual voyeurism, masturbation (m and f), mentions of death and being dead, haunting, non-consensual groping, non-consensual fingering, non-consensual oral (f receiving), non-consensual piv, non-consensual cream pie.

_____________________________________________

Death was nothing like Joel had expected. It was, to put it mildly, excruciatingly dull. He hadn’t been entirely sure what would happen to him after his body finally gave up on him. He’d given up on the notion of God the night he’d lost Sarah, and with that any thought of heaven and hell went out of the window for him too. He supposed he’d been hoping for peace. That he finally might rest easy. No such luck. Instead he found himself aimlessly wandering around Jackson, watching his family and friends and neighbours carry on with their lives, unable to influence the world around him. To himself he still felt solid so it had been quite the shock the first time someone walked right through him. He still wasn’t quite used to that all these months later.

At first he had refused to accept his insubstantiality. Trying hard day after day to move something, knock a bottle off a table, tug back a curtain, give Tommy a quick swat to the back of the head. Anything to make himself known. If he could do that he could be useful he thought to himself. A tireless guardian keeping watch by the gates, able to alert the guards to anything they’d missed. But nothing ever happened, his hand just sinking right through whatever it was he was aiming at.

When he finally gave up hope of ever being able to interact with the world again he began occupying himself by spying on the townsfolk. Although now he supposed it was less spying and more haunting. But life within the walls of Jackson wasn’t all that exciting. The odd fight breaking out over imagined slights and misunderstandings and the occasional scandal of infidelity. He wished he could go out on a patrol but he was bound within the walls of Jackson, anytime he’d tried to leave he’d found himself ricocheted back to the square right in the centre of town.

He kept mostly to the public places. Only ever entering the homes he’d been invited inside while he was alive, some vestige of decency still clinging to him, not wanting to violate the privacy of his neighbours too far. It didn’t leave him too many options, having never made that many connections while he’d been breathing. Really it was only Tommy or Ellie’s homes that he ever found himself in. But he could never stomach to stay long. The ache that came with watching them was almost too much to bear.

So for months he carried on with his boring, lonely existence, no purpose and nothing to look forward to. Until you arrived.

Your arrival was the most noteworthy thing to happen to Jackson since his own demise, and to Joel, bored out his mind and bitter with frustration you were a shining beacon of hope. Someone new, a change to the dull routine he’d been forced into. It didn’t hurt that he found you painfully attractive, your soft curves and pretty face lighting a fire in him that he never thought he’d feel again.

You’d been picked up on patrol and brought back, you seemed a sweet shy thing, all wide eyed wonder and mumbled gratitude. You clearly thought Jackson was too good to be true, he saw you pinch yourself multiple times in an attempt to convince yourself you weren’t dreaming. And when Maria brought you to your new home, a small one bed cottage near the outskirts of town, he broke his rule and followed you inside, desperate to learn more about you.

After a quick tour and promise to return later to take you to the dining hall Maria departed. Joel did not. He watched you mill from room to room, getting your bearings. He followed you into the bathroom and watched as you turned the shower on. You squealed with excitement at feeling the water turn warm, shucking your clothes like they were hurting you and diving under the stream.

The moan you released when the warm water hit your skin made his dick twitch. He didn’t know it could do that anymore, but then you turned and he got an eyeful of your beautiful, glistening tits and his cock was at full mast almost immediately. Instinctively he reached into his pants and grabbed hold of his throbbing erection, giving it an experimental stroke. God it felt good. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t tried this since he found himself in this new state of being, but then, he hadn’t had much to get excited over. Until now.

He moved closer, watching as you ran a sudsy washcloth over your glorious body, stroking himself in a steady rhythm. Fat droplets of water cascading down your tits and over your nipples made his mouth water. God what he wouldn’t give to suckle them. To suck that supple flesh into his mouth, kiss and bite and mark them, hear you moaning and whimpering under him.

You turned and bent down to wash your legs and feet, putting your pussy on full display for him. The groan he released, had it been audible, would have rattled the windows with its volume and intensity. It was so pretty and pink and perfect. He couldn’t stop his free hand from shooting out as if to caress your folds but of course his hand sank right through your flesh. Biting back his disappointment at not being able to touch you he focused his gaze back on your body. Gazed longingly at your little hole, noting how much of a struggle it would be to force his big, throbbing cock into it, dreaming of how tight it would clench him.

You stood back up and positioned yourself back under the water, releasing a dreamy sigh of contentment that was enough to push Joel over the edge. He came hard, the thrill rushing through him like he’d been struck by lightning. He watched as phantom jets of cum fired onto to your belly only to disappear almost immediately. Well at least he didn’t have to worry about clean up. Being dead did have some perks after all.

Joel couldn’t help the small wave of guilt that washed over him. For using you so unabashedly for his own pleasure. But as he watched you carry on with your shower, completely unaware of his presence he decided it wasn’t doing you any harm and he needed this. What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you. And this was the best he’d felt since he died.

And so Joel gave up on his feigned interest in the rest of the town and focused himself solely on you. He followed you everywhere, watched as you settled into Jackson, started work, made a few friends. And every night he’d follow you home and jerk off as he watched you shower before following you into your room to watch you sleep. You were so goddamn beautiful, he could sit and stare at you for hours and never be bored. And just like that Joel’s misery morphed into joy.

One night after a particularly busy shift in the Tipsy Bison, you headed straight for your bedroom once you finally made it home, stripping your clothes and pulling on the oversized t-shirt you wore to sleep. Joel was devastated to be robbed of his nightly relief, and also a little angry. He needed it, you were being incredibly selfish he thought, seemingly forgetting that you were not in fact willingly sharing your body with him, as if you had any idea at all of his presence.

He paced backwards and forwards at the foot of your bed, all pent up rage and frustration when you released a breathy moan, stopping him in his tracks. His head snapped towards you, lying on the bed, your legs bent at the knees and spread wide, your middle finger drawing light little circles on your clit. “That’s more like it,” he thought, his cock jumping to attention. He positioned himself right between your legs, hand around his cock. He watched every move you made, committing to memory all the things you liked, the movements that made you gasp and moan as he pumped up and down his cock. He watched as you teased yourself, building up speed and pressure before backing off and slowing down. You did this a couple of times before sliding your fingers down to your leaking pussy, rubbing faintly over your lips before plunging two fingers in deep. Joel couldn’t take his eyes off you as you began to pump them in and out releasing small whimpers when you let your thumb catch your clit with every inward stroke.

“You’re doing so good for me baby, keep going,” he growled at you, desperate to see what you look like when you come. “My fingers would feel so much better in there honey, I wish I could show you.” He could tell you were getting close as your breathing grew ragged and your moans grew louder. He tugged his cock in a frenzy, wanting to finish with you.

Your hips bucked off the bed and you let out a deep, long moan as your climax hit you. Joel was enthralled as he watched your body jerk and your cheeks flush, watched your slick, leaking hole clench around your fingers. With a final stroke of his cock he peaked, his cum landing over your pussy and hand before disappearing.

“Jesus baby, you’re incredible,” he praised as you slumped down on your bed, exhausted. You were asleep within seconds, forgetting even to turn off the bedside lamp.

_____________________________________________

As the months passed Joel’s obsession with you only grew. He’d only noticed the summer ending and the changing weather through the change in your clothes. Summer dresses replaced with jeans and sweaters. Joel mourned for the warmer weather and the extra glimpses of your soft skin it afforded. Not that he didn’t get to see every inch of you every day but still. He only realised Halloween was approaching when you brought home a small pumpkin, scooped out the delicate flesh and carved the carcass into a jack-o-lantern to place on your front porch. You spent the rest of the evening sewing some triangles of stiff fabric onto a headband to look like cat ears.

Joel had always loved Halloween. It had been his favourite holiday in the before, always choosing him and Sarah matching costumes to take her trick or treating, plotting out a route beforehand to hit the houses with the best candy first. Returning home and dutifully rationing out some candy for her before stealing some of the best bits once she was finally asleep, only to be told off in the morning when she realised some of her stash was missing.

The next morning you dressed yourself in a black jumper dress, drew a little nose and some whiskers on your face and topped it off with your headband and a ribbon around your neck to act as a collar. Joel stood behind you as you appraised your outfit in the mirror, “prettiest kitty I ever saw honey,” he told you.

“Huh?!” You spun around to take in the empty room, sure you’d heard a faint whisper. But of course, the room was empty.

“Can you hear me honey?”

There it was again. You ducked your head out into the hallway but still couldn’t see anything. “Hello, is someone there?”

“Yes honey, it’s me.” Joel was shouting now, following you as you moved down the hall into the living room, desperate for you to hear him. Just as you entered the living room a blur of black plummeted in front of you making you scream and jump back, only to realise it was your next door neighbour’s cat Toby, jumping off the bookcase he’d clearly been sleeping on.

“Jesus Toby, you scared the shit out of me,” you huffed, bending to pick up the meowing cat, “how’d you get in here, did you follow me in last night? Naughty boy, lets get you home.”

You walked out the door, cat in your arms, the faint whispers of Joel’s bellowing drowned out by your own voice and Toby’s contented purrs. You walked next door and knocked, stroking and kissing Toby’s head while you waited for Joan to answer.

“Hello deary,” she greeted you cheerfully, “oh Toby, have you been causing trouble?”

“Ha well, other than scaring me half to death he’s been a perfect house guest. He musta followed me in last night, sorry Joan.”

“Maybe you just caught his attention in that get up,” she cackled.

“Oh God, I totally forgot,” you groaned, “everyone working the Bison today is getting dressed up, thought it would be fun you know?”

“Well you certainly look the part, it’s a great costume. I’ll maybe swing by to see what costume Seth has picked out,” she chuckled winking at you and taking a content Toby from your arms, “thanks for bringing him back deary, I’ll let you get on.”

“See you later.”

Joel followed you silently to the dining hall. He was sure you’d almost heard him back at the house but there was no way you’d hear him now, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the busy town. It was so strange, why now after all this time? Maybe all the nonsense about Halloween wasn’t such nonsense after all? Maybe the veil between the living and the dead really was weakest today. Lost in his thoughts trying to remember all the old wives tales he’d heard about Halloween, he didn’t realise you had stopped in line to get your breakfast and he walked through you. But whereas normally he passed through the living like he was nothing but air, today he felt…resistance. Like he was viscous and had to force himself through you. Turning around he watched you shudder and a crooked smile graced his face. Maybe today he could have some real fun.

As you ate your breakfast he experimented with the items on the table. As with when he passed through you, anytime he pushed his hand against an object he felt an unusual resistance but the items remained steadfastly and disappointingly still on the table. But he refused to give up. And it’s not like he had much else pencilled in for today so he heaved a sigh and kept trying.

Once you were done he followed you like a faithful dog over to the Tipsy Bison. Letting yourself in you got to work straight away, hanging decorations round the walls of the bar, strings of paper spider webs and little bats and pumpkins that the kids in school had been making all week. Joel positioned himself at the end of the bar, watching you work as he half-heartedly tried to push the glass in front of him onto the floor.

Just as you finished you knocked the bag that had contained the decorations onto the floor, torn fragments of paper spilling from it and littering the floor like confetti.

“Ah crap,” you muttered to yourself, disappearing behind the bar for a moment reappearing with a dustpan and brush. You bent from your waist and vigorously started sweeping up the mess giving Joel a perfect view of your tits bouncing in your low cut dress. His dick twitched and the glass he’d been swatting at for the last half an hour sailed off the bar and smashed into the wall opposite.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard it smash. Trying to calm your breathing you wandered over to look at the broken glass now littering the floor, glancing around uneasily. Joel followed suit, in shock at what had just happened. “Fuck yeah baby, that’s what I’m talking about!” he yelled out causing you to jump once again, spinning round and once again being confronted by an empty space.

“He-hello. Who’s there?” you called out, backing your way behind the bar and retrieving the baseball bat Seth kept hidden there for in case folks got too rowdy. You circled the entire room, checking the toilets and the back room only to find them empty. You wandered back into the bar, bat still in hand but now hanging by your side.

“Oh honey, I ain’t gonna hurt you sweet thing,” Joel whispered right in your ear just as the bar door burst open and you swung the bat wildly in that direction.

“Jesus, what the fuck?!” Alex yelped, barely jumping back from the violently swinging bat, her witches hat falling from her head.

“God Alex I’m so sorry, something really fucking weird is happening. The glass flew off the bar and smashed and I’ve been hearing this whispering all day and I got this really weird feeling in the dining hall this morning…” you babbled out almost incoherently.

She considered you for a moment and then a smile broke out over her face, “you almost had me there for a second,” she giggled, “I admire your dedication to the bit, very convincing, you really do look terrified. Did Seth put you up to this?” She moved over to the bar and began getting organised.

“Alex I’m serious, something weird is going on.”

“Yeah ok, ok, look, I’ll tell Seth I believed you, that you gave me a good scare. I know how seriously he takes his pranks. I won’t let on that I figured you out straight away.”

“Alex…”

“You should probably clean that glass up, people will be coming in soon and we don’t want people to get hurt.”

You heaved out a sigh and replaced the bat behind the bar. She wasn’t going to believe you. And if you were honest with yourself, if someone had told you those same things you too would have taken it for nothing but a Halloween prank. Or that the person was crazy. You tried to put it out of your mind and got on with cleaning up.

Joel was brimming with joy. Oh he was going to have so much fun today. He kept practicing moving objects. More carefully now, not aiming to draw attention to himself again just yet. He pushed pictures slightly askew around the room, shuffled beer mats slightly around tables. All little controlled movements. It got easier each time. Like muscle memory building. Brimming with confidence he sidled up behind you as you cleaned a table, reaching his hand around you he hovered for a second before scooping your tit in his hand and giving it a firm squeeze.

Your yelp of surprise mixed with his groan of pleasure in his ears, he was fit to combust. Yanking his pants down he jerked off in the middle of the Tipsy Bison, coming embarrassingly quickly at the memory of the way your flesh had given under his hand, so soft and yielding. Fucking flawless.

Lost in his own little bubble he only caught the end of Alex admonishing you for continuing with the prank before turning to open the doors of the bar. Joel felt a wave of guilt as he took in your clearly overwrought appearance, your bottom lip trapped between your bottom teeth, swollen and raw from being chewed, your hands trembling as you gathered your cleaning materials and hurried behind the bar. He didn’t want to scare you. He wanted to make you feel good. He just hadn’t been able to help himself, finally able to make physical contact the draw of your sweet body had been too much for him. He had to have you and today might be his only chance. But he could back off for now. Give you a breather and allow you to settle your nerves. He couldn’t fuck you here after all. Still wasn’t entirely sure it would be possible at all but he was closer than he’d ever been. He’d waited all these long months, he could wait a few more hours.

So he kept the hijinks to a low level, continuing to practice moving items when no one was watching. He stayed in the bar and as it got busier you seemed to settle, your mind occupied with the regular hum-drum of your daily routine. You definitely seemed less on edge now that the strange occurrences seemed to have stopped.

Joel noticed as the day went on that he felt better and better. Stronger, invigorated. Moving items now came to him with ease, he was more and more convinced that tonight he’d get to have you. Finally. He felt giddy at the notion. So by the time the end of your shift rolled around he was impatient in his eagerness, shouldering people out of his way as he followed you towards the door, the bar busy enough that no one batted an eyelid at the jostling he caused.

“You’re not staying for a drink?” Alex asked as she spotted you heading out.

“I don’t know, it’s been a weird day. I might have a nap and see how I feel later.”

Alex rolled her eyes at you, “whatever grandma, enjoy your nap.”

Once you made it home you ran up the porch steps and hurriedly locked the door behind you, unable to shake the uneasiness you had felt since the morning. You checked every room, every cupboard, under the bed, every potential hiding place. Nothing seemed out of place. You listened, straining your ears to hear something. Joel watched the entire thing with a smirk on his face, staying resolutely quiet so as not to alarm you. Finally confident that you were alone you headed to the bathroom and jumped in the shower. Joel was fit to burst. But he didn’t want to take you in the shower, he wanted you in your bed, comfortable, where he could worship you for hours. So for now he contented himself with once again stroking himself to completion as he admired you.

Shower finished you headed for your bedroom wrapped in a towel. This was it, finally. Joel came up behind you and skimmed his lips along your neck. You yelped and spun round, to be confronted once again with an empty room. Tears gathered on your waterline, fear finally getting the better of your frayed nerves.

“Wh-whose th-there,” you stammered out.

That faint whispering caught your ears again. Slightly clearer than this morning. It sounded like laughing. A chill ran down your spine just as your towel was ripped from you and you were propelled backwards onto the bed.

Joel was hard as a rock as he looked at you splayed out on the bed, whimpering. He felt bad for scaring you but not bad enough to stop. He had to have you, he’d make it up to you. You’d calm down after a few orgasms, after he showed you how good he could make you feel.

He manhandled you on the bed so your head was lying on the pillows. Spreading your legs he kneaded and massaged the meat of your thighs as he admired your pretty little pussy up close.

“Stop, please stop,” you sobbed out. Joel gave one last devilish smirk before diving in, his flattened tongue running the full length of your folds before starting to flick at your clit. You couldn’t hold back the moan as Joel worked your little bud, your back arching as he sucked it into his mouth. Joel’s cock began to throb at the sight and sound of your pleasure. You writhed and wriggled and tried to pull away but Joel held you firmly in place, his arms clamped tight around your thighs.

His tongue left your clit and was immediately replaced with his thumb, rubbing small circles like he’d watched you do so many times. His tongue worked down through your folds back to your little hole which was now starting to glisten with the beginnings of your arousal. He plunged it inside of you, working it around your walls. Joel was elated to find he could taste you, sweet and tangy, albeit somewhat muted. After so long of not tasting anything it was heavenly, but how he wished he’d got to do this with his living tongue. Experience you fully.

He increased the pressure on your clit, before fucking you with his tongue at a desperate pace. You climaxed so beautifully for him, screaming out your peak while your body shuddered and slick gushed into his waiting mouth.

You sobbed uncontrollably as he climbed up your body, placing wet kisses over your mound and belly up to your heaving tits. Gathering the beautiful mounds in his hands he squeezed, revelling in their softness, the pliant feel of them in his hands. Groaning at finally getting his hands on them he sucked one nipple into his mouth, licking and grazing with his teeth as he pinched and rubbed the other with his forefinger and thumb before swapping sides and repeating the motions.

You moaned between sobs, fighting hard against the arousal that was being forced onto you. You were confused and terrified but your treacherous body was enjoying the sensations being showered upon you, arousal seeping out of your pussy and soaking your folds.

Still attached to your tit with his mouth, Joel’s hand stroked back down your body, grazing over your sensitive clit before moving down and circling your entrance.

“No, please no,” you begged, unable to see who or what was attacking you, all you felt was an impending intrusion, your fear spiking as you were breached. Your breathing hitched at the stretch, another uncontrollable moan escaping from your throat.

“There we go,” he mumbled around a mouthful of breast, “told you my fingers would feel good in there.” That faint whispering driving you crazy, just on the verge of being intelligible.

He pumped two fingers in and out before adding a hooking motion, searching for the spot that would have you seeing stars. You keened when he finally located it, your full body jerking at the sensation. No one had ever hit it before and you were reeling at how good it felt, your fear momentarily forgotten as all you could focus on was the pleasure radiating from your stimulated G Spot. Joel built up the speed of his thrusts, hitting that perfect spot every time. Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your vision going white as your cunt clenched around Joel’s fingers, wave after wave of pleasure surging through you.

“That’s it honey, good girl. Oh that was a big one wasn’t it, you’re doing so good for me sweet girl.” He continued to finger you through your high, only removing his digits when he felt you go limp underneath him. He peppered your face with kisses as he positioned himself for the main event.

Taking his cock in his hands he notched it at your entrance and immediately pushed himself inside you with one decisive thrust. You screamed, the stretch and burn almost unbearable, even after two orgasms. You once again tried to wrestle and wriggle your way free but Joel lay atop you fully, trapping you underneath him. He didn’t move, giving you a chance to adjust to him. He was a lot to take and he remembered how small your little hole had looked compared to his cock on that first day.

As your pussy began to accept the intrusion and your muscles began to relax around him the fight left you. Exhausted and spent you stopped struggling and lay submissively underneath whatever you were being violated by, your now silent tears trickling down your face.

In an attempt to soothe you Joel pressed soft kisses onto your temple and hair as he began rocking his hips gently. You felt so fucking good, the velvet walls of your tight pussy sucking him in and gripping his cock deliciously. He groaned out as he began to increase the pace and intensity of his thrusts, mesmerised by the bounce of your tits each time he plunged himself inside of you.

“Feel so good honey, I knew you would, so fucking good, ohhhhh.” He hooked his arm under your knee, pushing it up to your chest to open you up further, letting him sink deeper inside. By now his pace was punishing, pounding into you and angling his hips to hit that special spot again and again. You were going to come on his cock. He had to know how it felt, sure it would better than any imagining his brain could conjure. He knew you were close, could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around him. Reaching a hand between you he once again found your clit, rubbing over it and drawing a moan from you. It wasn’t long until you were screaming for him again, your pussy clenching so good around him it sent him over the edge, pulsing with ecstasy as he came inside you with a roar of deep satisfaction.

Exhausted by your ordeal you were asleep before Joel pulled out of you. He stood off the bed and ran his gaze lustfully over you. He checked the clock next to your bed. Only 7pm. 5 hours of Halloween left. He smirked as he turned back to your sleeping form. He’d give you a little respite but he wasn’t done with you yet. It turned out Halloween was still his favourite holiday.

[delusionalwritingsofagay]

Hi Hiiiii! Again the same anon who asked for a bottom Joel x top reader! I was thinking about this scenario: the reader was a lonely man who had escaped QZ trying to find a better community to live in, but he accidentally finds Ellie trying to hunt something her "injured friend". He helps them cause he was alone for a long time and is happy to have some friends. They stick together for some time when he notices Joel is getting softer with him and looks at him differently. when he asks him about it he tries to dodge the question but the reader insists and teases him about it so much that he confesses to him. ( I don't know anymore actually :"))

p.s: if you enjoy making it smut I would enjoy it too so yeah, please forgive if it's weird or anything, and thank you for being patient with me!

Bonds in Ruins

Pairing : Joel Miller x Male reader Tags : Getting together, fluff, men in love, found family Word count : 919

Author note : I am so sorry for the wait, I've had really bad writers block anyway I hope you enjoy it at least :)

In the remnants of a world ravaged by a mind-numbing infection, Y/N had found himself a solitary wanderer. He had escaped the confines of a QZ, leaving behind the walls that once felt like a prison. Outside, the world was a grim playground of danger, but it was also teeming with possibility. He sought refuge from loneliness, a longing for camaraderie that whispered incessantly in his heart.

Days turned into weeks as he navigated through the ruins of what once was a bustling city. The echo of his footsteps was accompanied only by the distant calls of the infected. Y/N had learned to blend into the shadows, to be a ghost wandering through the remnants of civilization. But despite all the self-reliance he had cultivated, he still felt the gnawing void of companionship.

One late afternoon, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the debris-littered streets, Y/N heard muffled sounds nearby. Curious and cautious, he had crept toward the source of the noise.

There, amid the broken concrete and overgrown weeds, crouched a girl with a bow in hand, her expression focused and fierce. As Y/N watched from a safe distance, he noticed her target—a small, scuttling rabbit. 

The girl turned, bowstring taut, eyes trained on him with a mix of wariness and defiance.

“Easy there,” Y/N raised his hands in a gesture of peace. “I’m not here to cause trouble.”

The girl relaxed her stance, albeit slightly. “Who are you?” she demanded, her voice firm despite her age.

“Just a guy trying to survive. I thought you might need help  ” Y/N said 

“Fine,” she relented. “But you help him, and then you leave. I don’t trust you.”

Y/N nodded, grateful for any chance at connection. He introduced himself and quickly got to work, assessing the injury. While the girl, Ellie, kept an eye on their surroundings, Y/N focused on bandaging the wound, murmuring gentle reassurances to the injured man. Despite the circumstances, he felt a warmth in his chest—he was no longer alone.

As the days passed, Y/N found himself travelling with Ellie and her injured friend, Joel. The bond between them deepened as they faced threats together, shared meals, and exchanged stories under star-studded skies. For Y/N, the feeling of belonging was intoxicating, and he felt happier than he had in a long time.

Over time, he began to notice a shift in Joel’s demeanour. The gruff man who had initially seemed distant became more approachable, his eyes softening as he looked at Y/N. Their banter grew lighter, and Joel’s rare smiles lit up the dark corners of their world. It confused Y/N; he had never experienced such shifts in a relationship during these desperate times.

One night, as they sat around a small fire, Y/N couldn’t help but tease him. “You know, for a guy who looks like he’s been through hell, you seem to enjoy my company a bit too much.”

Joel chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re just a distraction. Nothing more.”

“Sure,” Y/N replied, arching an eyebrow, “but you’ve been smiling more these days. Is it the company, or are you just losing your touch at being a grumpy old man?”

Joel’s brow furrowed, and he glanced at Ellie, who was pretending not to listen. “You’re reading too much into it.”

“Oh, come on, Joel. Just admit it. You like me. You’re growing fond of me,” Y/N teased, leaning closer, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Joel’s expression faltered, the weight of unsaid words hanging heavy between them. Finally, he sighed heavily, the kind of resignation that comes before a confession. “Alright, fine. Maybe I do care about you a little more than I should.”

Y/N’s heart raced at the admission, and he pressed further, “A little more? Is that all? Seems to me like you’re starting to like me, Joel.”

“Damn it,” Joel muttered, running a hand over his face in frustration. “You’re relentless. You got no idea what you’re doing to me.”

“Try me,” Y/N smiled, feeling emboldened. “Tell me how you really feel.”

Joel looked at him then, eyes unreadable, but something more tender flickered within them. “You’ve seen the world for what it is. So have I. All I ever wanted is to protect what’s left of it. But you... you make that harder.”

Y/N’s breath caught in his throat, the vulnerability in Joel’s confession igniting something inside him. “So, you like me because I make it harder? That’s quite the confession, Joel. You said it yourself—things are complicated.”

“Complicated doesn’t mean it ain’t real,” Joel replied, his voice low. 

With a rush of adrenaline, Y/N teased, “Maybe you’re just falling for me, old man.”

Served with a mixture of surprise and something deeper, Joel’s eyes widened, and the moment felt electric. Y/N could see the conflict in Joel’s expression, his defences wavering. Y/N dared to hope.

And then, almost shyly, Joel leaned in, capturing Y/N’s lips with his own, a hesitant sigh escaping him as their mouths met. It was a soft collision, molten warmth blooming between them, pure and fragile amidst their harsh reality.

In the silence that followed, Y/N felt a warmth spread through him, one that had been missing for far too long. When they finally pulled apart a fained cough interrupted them

“ Don’t mind me or anything” Ellie said teasingly causing Joel to groan and roll his eyes “ Dammit Ellie”

[callmewisteria]

Something Complicated (At The Precipice Of Something New Chapter XLII)

Completely furious, the Institute Directorate confront the Director and his father about what they've learnt of Dr. Virgil and a particular woman from Vault 111? The General of the Minutemen and detective Nick Valentine discuss and consider Kasumi's request they investigate Dima and find what his memories could be hiding? Returning to Sanctuary Hills, Nora struggles with reconciling the past and present? In her new body, Curie, Amari, and Annette prepare for a new synth to come through the Memory Den? Paladin Danse, Scribe Haylen, and Knight Rhys continue tracking the Mechanist?

Happy one year to At The Precipice Of Something New! This is one of my favourite fics to write, and I'm proud of all I've done so far! Read it on AO3, ff.net, and/or wattpad!!!

[mommieswithmuscles]

Free Palestine, don't support Neil

Title: Sugar Free (2)

Please read part one for context, future parts will have the previous chapter tagged for easier navigation.

It takes a while, but you get Abby talking. You find out she collects old world quarters, and enjoys scenery. Had she been born in the old world, she thinks she would be a photographer, or maybe a nature documenter. And she has much more pride than Ellie.

"How long did it take you to build yourself like that?" You drape your hand across her bicep upon returning to the bakery. She wheeled the breakfast load for you, even helped you unload it.

"About four years. I think." She flexes when you let go. "Why? Jealous?" Abby's a tease, you note. A challenge. And who doesn't like friendly competition?

"Very jealous. A beautiful girl with stunning muscles wanders into my shop, what else do I do other than stare?"

"It's technically not a shop because you don't sell anything," Abby snarks.

"Who says I don't?" Her brow quirks.

"What could you possibly mean by that?"

"If someone wants something extra, outside the community allowance, there has to be an exchange. Can't be out here overexpending resources." You take a step into her space. Abby stays planted.

"Get to the point, you're talking in circles."

"Maria supplies me with ammo, Jesse gets me fuel, and Ellie keeps me company. Everything has a price." Abby frowns, confused.

"You're so lonely you bake for interaction?"

"Yeah. I work before dawn until after dusk every day to help keep the community nourished. Hard to leave. Ellie usually has dinner with me so I can send her home with midnight snacks."

-

Abby watches you work the new batch. Watches the way your forearms and fingers flex as the dough gets harder to knead. She hands you the pans to let the dough rest before you can continue to bake it. She sets the time on the little kitchen timer Dina found on a run.

"How long have you been in Jackson?"

"Almost four years. I got here not too long before Ellie and Joel. How long were you with the WLF?"

"........About....." you watch her think, "four years."

"Why did you leave?"

"I didn't believe in the same ideals of my leader. After I learned what he was doing to a nearby community, I couldn't stay. The Seraphites only want to survive like everyone else."

"Who were you with before?"

"Hey, my turn to ask. How did you end up here?"

"My community was very small. It was taken out by some raiders." Abby tucks your hair behind your ear. "Your turn to answer."

"I was a Firefly." You pull a tag out of your pocket.

"Do you know who this is?" Abby takes it, inspecting the name.

"We met briefly. She worked with my dad. Where did you get this?" She gives you back the tag.

"She was my mom. Tommy brought this back after Joel told him what happened. I don't have many details, but I don't blame Joel. He was protecting his daughter. After the disbanding, I joined my dad with a small group of survivors. He's the only reason I escaped." You pull out a second tag. She immediately recognizes the name engraved.

"Your parents are Firefly heroes, and their deaths-"

"Their deaths are stepping stones to where I need to be." You shut down the anger you see boiling in her. "You don't blame Joel, either."

"I used to. Until he saved me. I didn't even mean to find him, or this. I was trying to get as far from the WLF as I could get. Rumors of Firefly occupations all over the country but no actual evidence." She heaves a sigh. "And you have a point. Joel was just a father, and he did what he felt was the right way to protect his daughter. I can't fault him for it. My dad would have done the same."

"Jerry, right?" Her ears perk at his name. Her solemn demeanor changing slightly.

-

You bake until the load is ready. After the heavier conversation, you feel like you and Abby have a bond. You've known her for barely a day, and you've grown attached. Stupid, you think to yourself. You were better than this. More careful. You and Ellie fought like cats and dogs until one thing led to another.

You watch her muscles flex as she wheels the bread to the kitchen. "You really don't have to do that."

"I want to." Abby grins, plopping the finished dough in the pan to rest. "Why doesn't Dina tag along for your dates with Ellie?" You frown.

"What do you mean?"

"They're together aren't they?" Your ears start to ring. Is Ellie in a relationship? Does she like Dina more than she told you she did?

"I don't actually know. You would have to ask them." You take over the baking, needing a way to relieve the stress Abby just dropped on your shoulders.

-

"Hey beautiful!" Ellie skips over to you, dropping a gun on the sale counter. "Picked you up a new toy. All checked in and loaded up." You watch her tongue dart out and wet her lips. You subconsciously do the same thing. Ellie doesn't notice, but Abby does.

"That's mighty kind of you," your floury hand leaves white powder streaked on Ellie's hip as you retrieve the weapon. You were just cleaning up from the dinner batch when she came in.

"I'm going to head out now. Have a good night." Abby nods to you both.

"Wait!" You call her. Abby turns on her heel to look at you, her brow raised. "Stay. Have dinner with us."

-

It's not...... awkward, perse........ but you could tell they didn't like each other. The energy was buzzing with watchful eyes and sneaky glances.

The small talk seemed forced, but it was slowly starting to flow. Ellie dropped her walls first, your shoe trailing up her calf and back down. Your hand is resting on Abby's thigh in the booth you're seated into. Ellie is to your right, closest to the door. Abby is to your left, tucked between you and the wall.

"I'm full, and very-" Ellie cuts herself off with an obnoxious yawn, "tired after a long day's work. Goodnight," she salutes with two fingers. Abby nods, returning the pleasentry.

You take the dishes to the sink, Abby hovering behind you. "Are you guys....?" She laughs to herself. "Actually, nevermind. It's not my business."

"No, we're not a couple." You put your damp hand on her bicep. "Why? Jealous?" Her crossed arms tighten over her broad chest.

"What? No. You seem close, and you seemed upset when I brought up Ellie and Dina going out." You watch Abby's heavy shoulders shrug.

"We are close, but we aren't a couple. I'm unspoken for. Do you have anyone back there?"

"No. I haven't for a long time." She takes a step into your space. You take another half step towards her.

"You're standing pretty close."

"Does it bother you?" Abby sasses.

"Not a bit." You glance her up and down, eyes hooded. She watches you intently. "Where are you staying?"

"In the loft above the bar. Joel has me set up until I have a proper housing situation discussion. Why?"

"Come home with me," you offer.

-

Very slow updates. Palestine comes first. Sudan comes first. Yemen comes first. The Congo comes first. Don't bother interacting if you can't grasp the horrors in the world.

[forthelostones]

i. through the darkness - a fanfiction

꧁ since the apocalypse you found yourself living a stagnant but fulfilling life. you lived in the cabin you watched your parents build many years ago. you never ended up in a qz or sought out refuge anywhere else. living just outside jackson, on a lakefront, away from the world. you watched them build a community around you, something someone so isolated could dream of. but what would it cost? on a lone day, while you're hunting for dinner you hear a dry voice cry for help. it's a familiar voice, one you've only heard of ruffled behind static. she's helpless in your trap, unconscious in the dirt, leaking with blood, her auburn hair stuck to her fighting face.

content: mention of loss, mention of two-parent household, parent/ sibling death (implied), grief, blood, aged!ellie, fluff/angst.

an: waaaaa let's see how long this'll last. first ff since i was 13? woaaaa. also thanks guys for all the follows, that’s means sm to me!!! also any requests? let me know.

wc: 2.2k

Your stomach spoke to you while finishing your glass of herbal tea. It warmed you, but it wouldn’t satisfy you until dinner, which you were putting off. You knew you'd need to go hunt since the change of seasons left you with such little protein. But you so desperately enjoyed the weather and the coolness that allowed you to sit by the fire, read your favorite books, and go thoughtless. The crinkling of the wood created a hazy picture inside your mind of when you would sit by the fire with your mom and read her childhood books. You look around and sit alone with a copy of a graphic novel with pages that have become dusty with time. 

You close up the book and swallow the last drops of tea as you slip on your house shoes to walk to the kitchen. The floorboards creak beneath you, echoing in your ears, reminding you how quiet this place has become. Your hands wrap around the ceramic sink as you lay the glass down and peer out to the lake. Your memory floods with flashes of Christmas, the house noisy with the clattering dishes from the same meal mom made every year. Meatloaf, fire-roasted chicken. mashed potatoes, green beans, biscuits, pumpkin pie, and iced lavender tea. A meal that filled your belly up so much that you could barely stand at the sink to wash dishes. But as you stood, you so desperately wanted to lay in your father's arms, on the couch, listening to the laughter of your mom and brother dancing to a record. But instead, you looked out the window, into the never-ending treeline, watching the snow fall heavily over the deck sloppily washing.

You sniffled as you fought the distance between your mind and the present. You weren’t in the business of crying, that ended a long time ago. But when you peered out that same window and watched the sun hallow into the lake slowly you felt as if you could.

Better go, you thought. 

You strapped on your boots, tossed your rifle over your shoulder, and headed towards the door. All your gear was already set up from the day previously when you decided you would just eat vegetable soup again for dinner. You groan as you step into the frosty air, colder than you thought, but you smile, knowing Spring is knocking, waiting to come in. The world around you had become so quiet, so you constantly hummed a tune your dad taught you to keep your mind from wandering. 

♪ Open the door, Richard… 

Open the door and let me in…♪ 

You hear his voice chime in on the next line…

♪ Open the door, Richard

Richard, why don't you open that door?♪

The whistling breeze came to a brief halt, amplifying your voice and your feet crunching on the recently defrosted grass. As you walk to your post, opposite the lake, you hear coughing. For a moment you think it’s in your head, a new bit your memory made up while singing the vaudeville tune. The gurgle of trapped liquid triggered your senses causing you to leap to the ground. 

“‘Elp—“ 

It wasn’t an infected, it was an actual human. Your body jerks a gasp out of your mouth causing you to muffle your excitement that faded quickly. You set up a conibear trap down that way to ward off the trespassers you thought you’d get. You stood to your feet and sprinted ferociously to the sight. The voice yelped again, softly, as they hear you crash towards them.

Lying in a shallow ditch was a girl with the thick of her calve stuck between your trap. How long has she been out here? Her face was dirtied with earth and her body twitched from the pain. She had dropped out of consciousness as you appeared. Luckily the trap was old and somewhat defective, so her blood flow wasn’t as intense as it could’ve been. You check the surrounding area cautiously to make sure no one is hidden along the shore or tree line. You went over to her, prying the trap away with any remaining strength you had, nicking yourself and freeing her leg. Her pierced veins dripped blood, so you unwrap your scarf and tie it around her flesh until you could get her into the cabin. You hoist her up over your shoulder and walk quickly from shore, up the grassy plain, and twisting the door handle open with a free hand.

Your heart raced at the human connection. 

“I gotcha,” you say hoarsely. 

You open the bathroom door and lie her in the bathtub, hand behind her frosted neck. She's practically frozen, you thought. You remove her backpack, shoes, and additional layers down to her warming garments and grab the med kit from your living room. Your hands quake as you attempt to remember what to do. Find the source, stop the source, stay clean baby, you hear your Mom say. You cut a strip up her pant leg to view the wound. She needed stitching, on both sides of her calve, bulbs of nervous sweat gathered on your forehead, and fell quickly into the tub. Your hands were damp with fresh blood, more than you’ve ever dealt with before even when you went hunting. You reached for the spout to the tub and rinsed your hands off before delving into the kit for a needle and thread, she was going to be okay. 

You stood at her bedside, sponging her face with warm water you boiled on the stove and a clean washcloth. Your heart rate hasn’t dropped since you found her. Almost ten years since a human was breathing around you and you couldn’t believe it, you wished it didn’t go this way, but part of you was glad she did. Questions rummaged through your curious mind about how she found you, why she was here, what if she came to kill you, what if there’s a cure and they were alerting others? The thoughts didn’t stop. She was still unconscious, lying in your bed, tucked warmly with your flannel pajamas, eyes closed and mouth slightly open. You had given her a nice cleaning, wiping away the days-old dirt built up on her skin, even picking it from under her nails. Slathering her dried lips with petroleum, combing her hair after washing it, and now cleaning off her cheeks. Her face pleased your eyes, and that short hair sparked fiery against the dullness of your bedroom, filled with trinkets of the past illuminated by a flickering candle. Your sponge slowly swiped over her tattoo, it looked a few years old, faded away with time, and stretched over her aching muscle. 

Cool, you thought in the midst of then constant brain chatter.  

You dragged the loveseat from the living room to where she peacefully slept. You had been monitoring her after drowning her in freshwater with crushed-up painkillers. You had been worried because her breathing began to stagger into choking snores. But you also thought it would be a good idea to stay by her side to explain why she was here. In the meantime, you warmed up leftover soup on the stove, making sure there was enough for her when she awakened. You pulled a blanket off your couch and dragged a cup of soup to your post. As you spooned in the warm broth with potatoes and carrots to your mouth you watched her chest rise and fall, even if her breathing became shallow, you watched to make sure. She began to sweat late in the night, so you placed a cool rag on her forehead and dulled the fire. Something about her made you want to know her.

The morning broke through the sheer curtains and the birds from last Spring arrived again. You looked over to your patient who cuddled a pillow to her chest, hair sticky, and sprawled all over her face. It actually makes you smile because for a moment, life feels familiar — she feels familiar. You have a stretch and head to the kitchen to get started on breakfast, oats with apple butter. You toss more fire starter into the pit to bring more warmth to the brisk morning. A loud groan, that flowers into a scream, comes from your bedroom and you are met with the fiery woman once again. Her eyes bulging out of her head as her arms flail with her head tossed back. She searches around your room for something, anything to protect herself, and for a moment you feel the threat of danger comes as she grips the glass of water you set out for her. 

“Stop!” You holler, but your voice cracks, it’s been a while since it’s been used like this. 

Her strong arms chuck the glass at your feet, which causes you to wince and jump onto the bed. You wrap your hand around her aching, freshly stitched calf. She spits out profanities, reaching for your face, but you just squeeze her throwing arm harder. 

“I’m help, I help you, I’m helping you!” You stutter, trying to get the phrasing right. 

But she doesn’t stop until tears form in the corner of her eyes. 

Her body stops shaking the second she makes eye contact with you. In that moment you felt like Eve, full of sin, being discovered by God's wandering eye, naked, with her pupils melding into yours. She sighs as you lift your hand. 

“It’s it’s me,” you suggest, repeatedly saying your name. 

Her forest eyes settle on you as you move quickly off of her, freeing her wrist. 

“Okay. Okay.” She replies. 

Her voice is dry with rasp laced between her moans of agony. 

“You got stuck in my trap, do you remember, I-I live here. This is my house.” You explain anxiously. 

Which feels weird to say out loud, it’s just yours now.

She remains silent. 

“Your leg got caught in a trap, do you remember?” You enunciated slowly. 

“I can understand you.” 

You twitch at her unpleasant reply.

“Can you? Look, I’m sorry you got stuck. I’ll get you more meds.” 

“No, no,” she winches. “It’s fine I have to go, my people are probably worried, how many days has it been?” 

You shrug your shoulders, which wasn’t sufficient enough for her, and she spits a nasty what at you. “I don’t know and what do you mean people? Is there someone coming here, are you…” 

You couldn’t even finish your sentence at the possibility of this girl attracting people to you. 

“No, no one knows I'm here exactly. I wouldn't willingly walk into a trap.” 

You keep your post near the door, away from the broken glass as you observe her attempt to sit up. She looks around the room and you feel a wave of embarrassment. Posters from your youth are plastered on the walls, crooked and dusty. 

“You won’t be able to make it far with that leg.” You distract her. 

She pulls the sheet away from her now bloody gauze. The sight makes you jump into action and elevate it. You thought your stitches would hold, but they didn’t. The glass crunched under you as you leaped to the loveseat where you moved the kit for the night. You frantically removed the swatch of gauze and unraveled it in your hands. 

“Give it.” She demands. 

But you’re not listening to her words, you unravel the fabric to see your stitches in place, just her movement made her bleed a little more. 

“Give it,” she reached for your hands.

“Let me do this!” You scream, shutting her up. 

She sits as quiet as she can, sucking her teeth, as you change her bandages. You look up to her and she looks away, avoiding contact with your eyes. You silently walk to wash your hands and grab the broom. 

The room falls quiet other than the hay sticks scraping the wood. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Her voice breaks through the silence and you just freeze, squatting on the ground, over the glass, out of her view. Once the glass is in the metal dustpan you walk it to the kitchen to dispose of it. 

“It’s okay. I would’ve reacted the same way.” You sigh, propping yourself back in your chair. 

“You alone?” 

“I am, have been for the last ten.” 

“Oh shit.” 

Her reaction pulled at a nerve you didn't think you had. 

“Ten years,” she adds. “By yourself? What…” 

You just nod, thinking of how your mom would’ve handled this situation. Brought breakfast to bed, made a natural creme for her wounds, and played soft music to awaken her. She wouldn’t have attacked Mom. 

“I’ll get started on breakfast.” 

You watched her devour a bowl of warm oats. The spoon entered her mouth swiftly, clattering against her front teeth and scraping as she pulled it away. You added milk into her oats to be more filling, lots of cinnamon, and apple butter to hide the stale taste. Her tongue even rode the ridges of the bowl where the thick, sweet glue dried and hardened. Her breathing was sporadic, almost like she would die if she didn’t devour the food immediately. You were still on your fifth spoon, almost halfway through. You deducted from her hurriedness that she was outside for at least three days. She sat patiently against the headboard and waited for you to finish. You had forgotten how to speak to someone. The only time you spoke these days was when you read to yourself, acting out the scenes and trying character voices. As you try to speak to her your voice caught in the back of your throat. But you could ask the one question humans asked each other upon first meeting. 

“What’s your name… by the way? The by the way you added hurriedly as you remembered from the movies you watch that they say that. 

“Ellie.” She replied. 

“Ellie.” You repeat. 

You smirked as you took another spoonful, hiding your mouth, you liked the way her name sat at the tip of your tongue. Instead of worrying, you just thought Ellie.

[jbbartram-illu]

A little something different!

I used to be a TOTAL bookworm as a kid, then sort of lost it for a decade or so, then in about 2016/17 I decided to start reading more (& also moved closer to a library & got in the habit of using it).

Fast forward 7ish years and I'm back in the habit of reading & am devouring stacks of books per year, with 2023 being my most ridiculous one yet. I somehow ended up reading 120 books? Mostly because I'm terrible at managing my library holds list & kept getting stacks of books I really wanted to read (I'm also lucky to be a really fast reader, which helps).

Anyways! All that to say - I compiled a top 22 + 19ish honourable mentions, as seen below:

My Top 22:

Tear – Erica Mckeen

Our Wives Under The Sea – Julia Armfield

The Vaster Wilds – Lauren Groff

Paladin’s Strength – T. Kingfisher

Paladin’s Grace – T. Kingfisher

Great Circle – Maggie Shipstead

Between Two Fires – Christopher Buehlman

Sisters – Daisy Johnson

How High We Go In The Dark – Sequoia Nagamatsu

Moon Of The Turning Leaves – Waubgeshig Rice

The Memory Police – Yoko Ogawa

The Night Ship – Jess Kidd

The Conjoined – Jen Sookfong Lee

The Lighthouse Keeper’s Daughter – Hazel Gaynor

If An Egyptian Cannot Speak English – Noor Naga

The Annual Migration Of Clouds – Premee Mohamed

Wandering Souls – Cecile Pin

The Only Good Indians – Stephen Graham Jones

Lone Women – Victor Lavalle

Ring Shout – P. Djèlí Clark

Lucy – Jamaica Kincaid

The Bookshop Of Yesterdays – Amy Meyerson

Honourable Mentions:

The Marigold – Andrew F. Sullivan

Five Little Indians – Michelle Good

Swordheart – T. Kingfisher…and all the other books of hers (9 of them in total) I read this year!

Even Though I Knew The End – C.L. Polk

Everything Under – Daisy Johnson

Fen – Daisy Johnson

The Animals In That Country – Laura Jean Mckay

A Prayer For The Crown-Shy – Becky Chambers

The Sea Captain’s Wife – Beth Powning

Hester – Laurie Lico Albanese

Tauhou – Kotuku Titihuia Nuttall

Ducks – Kate Beaton

You Made A Fool Of Death With Your Beauty – Akwaeke Emezi

The Hatbox Letters – Beth Powning

And Then She Fell – Alicia Elliot

The Adult – Bronwyn Fischer

Everyone Knows Your Mother Is A Witch – Rivka Galchen

Lute – Jennifer Thorne

Monster – Mariel Ashlinn Kelly

Elly Griffiths’ Ruth Galloway Series (I read 8 books from this series this yr & loved all of them!)

If you want to go through my entire list for 2023, you can read it on my website!

[agentmarcuspike]

"All My Casualties of Love"

pairing: joel miller x reader/oc (third person, unnamed) cw: descriptions of injuries, unprotected piv, painful sex (it's not supposed to hurt!!), murder (they had it coming), flashbacks, tess is dead (rip), no ellie wordcount: 5k a/n: i've spent too long editing this and i'm still not happy so... please just take it

Joel had decided to never love again. His brother left to find a different life, he lost his partner to the horrors, and now he finds himself wandering, gathering courage to end it all, secretly yearning for a reason not to. And then he finds her. And she ruins everything.

The smoke rises thick and black from the burning house as Joel passes it from a safe distance, the fire emitting some light to the surroundings, but not enough to reach him. He has his rifle on his chest, fingers on his handgun, in case the fire attracts anyone, even though the thick dark and the snow covered ground muffling his steps feels like protection enough. The rare winter storm had narrowly avoided him, but a stray bolt of lightning must have found the house, he gathers. 

It’s been months since he’s seen another person. Walking through the deep forest, the sound of only crunching leaves and screaming birds driving him insane before the snow came and softened everything, and he swears he has started hallucinating. Even now, as he moves a little closer to the burning house, stealing some warmth from the flames, he swears he hears something. It must just be his lonely mind playing tricks on him though, and he’s about to turn and walk away when he hears it again. 

A scream.

The sound is all too familiar, and his breath hitches in his throat. Driven by instinct he starts running towards the noise, but stops himself to think. It could be a trap. It could also be someone in need of help. But that’s not his problem. Not in this world. And yet, when he hears the yell again, he can’t stop his feet from running.

In the orange glow of the flames, about ten meters from the house, Joel can barely make out the contours of a person, face down in the snow, crawling in the opposite direction. Rifle pointed forwards, he takes a few more steps. 

“Hey!” he bellows. The figure freezes, and as he gets closer, gun still pointed at them, he can tell it’s a young woman. No older than 30. She doesn’t look sick, but he asks anyway. No response. He moves to stand in front of her, the butt of his rifle still pressed firmly against his shoulder. 

“I asked you a question,” he repeats. “You infected?” 

The smoke moves heavily around them, and he pulls her to her feet, dragging her towards the road where he came from. When they’re clear of the smoke, he throws her to the ground, pushing the gun back in her face until she scrambles up on her knees and meets his gaze.

Something in her eyes reminds him of the past. A something he’s buried deep down. Six feet to be exact. The look of fear. An emotion he hasn’t had much of for the past fifteen years, because he hasn’t had anything to lose. He lost everything long ago.

“If you’re gonna turn it’s better I end it for you right now.” He still hasn’t looked at her without the weapon between them.

“I’m not,” she finally manages, not breaking eye contact. He doesn’t want to believe her, but he does. 

“Good for you,” he replies, finally lowering the weapon a bit. 

He doesn’t admit, to her or himself, that he wouldn’t actually mind too much if she did turn, thinking it might be an okay way for him to go. Maybe saving her even if she was already doomed might give him some extra karma points before he goes himself.

While the dark makes it hard to see anything at all, his aging eyes not helping, he can see enough to give her a quick once over, making sure she isn’t too hurt and be on his way. But he doesn’t move. The way her eyes never leave his, how she never raised her hands in surrender like people usually do when he aims at them. He’s not sure what it is he sees. Whether it’s just the reflection of the fire in the distance, or something else sparkling, something resembling a will to live, a thirst for life. Which it can’t be, not out here, not anymore. Right?

She doesn’t move until he does.

Desperate, impatient, gulping, choking down the water, thirsty from the smoke she inhaled. He has given her his water bottle, knowing he can easily melt more snow later. They’re walking side by side in the forest, out of sight, but with the road they’re following almost visible through the trees. 

She gives Joel the bottle back, and he briefly considers letting her keep it, but accepts it with a nod.

He clears his throat before speaking. 

“So…” He looks in towards the thick forest. “If you just follow the road, you should get to some old cabins. Just… keep an eye out for people and…” He looks at her briefly, giving a nod to signal he doesn’t really have anything else to say.

“Where are you going?” she asks, voice breaking a little. 

“Setting up camp for the night.” 

“Oh.”

They stand about two meters apart, both looking at the ground. 

“Well…” he begins, as he takes a step away from her.

“Thank you,” she cuts him off, throwing the words out like she wants to get rid of them. “I owe you one.”

Joel huffs. “You don’t owe me anythin’.” The last thing he wants is for someone to be indebted to him. That would involve some sort of connection, and that’s the last thing he wants.

“Well…” she mimics him. They give each other a nod, taking a few steps backwards, while turning and walking their different ways.

When he gets far enough into the thick woods to lay his ragged sleeping bag down on frozen ground rather than snow, curling up inside of it, waiting for sleep, he catches himself wondering if the woman has found a safe place for the night, somewhere warmer than the forest floor. But then he reminds himself, she’s not his responsibility to worry about. He already saved her once. 

She’s slipping through his fingers. The scorching tongue of the fire licking his arms as he’s clutching her to his chest like when she was a baby. She used to love nuzzling into the crook of his neck. As she got older, she’d pretend she didn’t, but whenever she fell asleep on the couch, his arm around her little shoulders, her unconsciousness would still guide her face into him, and his calm breaths would rock her to sleep, exactly like he had just a few, and yet so many, years ago.

She’s not sleeping now. He’s running but his feet aren’t moving. The fire is catching up, surrounding them. He can see her mouth moving, a silent scream as the flames engulf her, and there’s nothing he can do. He yells, and screams, his muscles aching and burning from reaching for her. But she’s lost in the fire, and he’s untouched, hurt not from the inferno but the loss. 

The fire crackles, a taunting sound, saying, “I have her now. And I won’t take you.” 

Gunfire. Joel knew the sound all too well. He had heard it up close and personal. But the bullet that had once grazed the side of his head, at the hands of none other than himself, had made sure he’d never hear it again with more than one ear. He had learned to lean into conversation with his left side, always sleeping on the right.

But people make mistakes, and waking up with his good ear down and the sound of gunfire reaching through his bad one was a good indicator that he was also a person capable of fatal error. 

Throwing himself around to look for the source of the sound, Joel is immediately confused by what he finds. On the ground a good fifty meters away from him, a body. But more confusing than that, right next to his head, a pair of boots. Connected to a pair of legs, it seems, and looking up, there she is, staring down the barrel of his own rifle. But it’s not pointed at him.

Another bang, and another body to the ground. Before he can wrap his head around the situation and reach for the handgun on his hip, a third gunshot rings out, followed by silence. 

Walking side by side, Joel hasn’t uttered a word since he was suddenly awoken an hour or so earlier. Neither has she. He’s grateful they’ve equaled the debts now, and secretly wishes that would mean they could go their different ways without being duty-bound by karma, but he also figures he owes her a thank you.

“S’pose we’re even now,” he mumbles finally, eager to be done with talking. 

“Guess so,” she replies with a half-smile. 

A few more steps in silence. Joel’s breaths come more easily, relieved and ready to move on. 

“So I’m–

“So where you headed?” she interrupts him. 

He’s taken aback for a second, confused by the sudden change of pace in conversation.

“Uhm.” He debates with himself for a second. He’s not even sure he knows. “Just… west,” he lands on eventually. 

She nods. “Just west,” she repeats. 

More silence. He doesn’t know why, but Joel feels an intense urge to fill it.

“Did you follow me?” he asks eventually.

“Not at first.” 

She tells him she was too shaken up and cold to sleep, so she stayed awake near the cabins he’d mentioned to her, which is where she heard a small group of people.

“One of them talked about seeing someone sleeping by themself in the woods, and they all went to check it out, so I followed them, assuming it was you they’d seen.”

She leaves out the part where she managed, armed with only a big branch and a pocketknife, to hit the one standing guard over the head without alerting the others closing up on Joel, and used the unconscious man’s weapon to gun down another one before getting to Joel and his rifle, but he can fill out the blanks himself.

The gun is now strapped to her hip, and she gives it a squeeze. It feels foreign, and it is. She had her own gun with her when she sought shelter in the house, the one she’d had with her for years, but there was no need to go back and look for it under the ashes now. Either way, this one she had preyed straight from a dead man’s hands. She’s done worse, and yet she feels bad about it.

“Thank you,” he says, eventually looking up at her. “For… that.”

She nods and gives him a half-smile. “I owed you one, didn’t I?”

She doesn’t give him much, and it’s not like he wants anything either, but he still feels compelled to ask. To know. 

“You traveling alone, then?” 

She doesn’t answer for a while. 

“My sister…” she begins. Silence again. Joel thinks he understands. He’s about to tell her she doesn’t need to say anything when she continues.

“She was a baby when it began. I was basically a kid too, but when our parents got sick, it was just the two of us. I raised her I suppose. And then a few months back, we had a falling out. We ran into some people, they wanted to join us, she wanted them to join as well. I said no, felt too risky. So, she…” The woman takes a shaky breath. Joel wants to put his hand on her shoulder, show her he understands. He too has felt the pain of a younger sibling leaving. “She, uhm…” 

“S’okay, niña,” is all Joel can muster. “You don’t have to go there.”

She sniffs quickly, and he thinks he sees her wipe a tear away, but then she huffs.

“Niña…?” 

He looks at her with raised brows. “Somethin’ wrong with that?”

“Nothin’ wrong, viejo.” 

A quick huff escapes him. She did not just… 

“Oh, fuck off,” he groans, but he can’t hide his smile while she sneers.

The air feels lighter, and Joel takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“Guess we could share the road for a bit,” he grumbles to his feet, but he catches the smile she can’t contain in his side vision. 

Avoiding the cabins Joel had suggested earlier, he didn’t think they would come across any more houses for a while.

But there it is. In the middle of the woods, covered in moss, surrounded by trees standing so thick the windows seem unnecessary as no light is going to seep through the branches anyway. It can barely be called a shack, but it has walls and a roof, and seeing as the trees stretch to cover the door as well, Joel guesses it must have been left alone for years, untouched. 

He pulls out his knife to cut the branches covering the door, and his new companion takes out the pocketknife from her jacket and starts uncovering the windows on the same wall to see if it’s possible to have a glance inside.

“Wow…” she whispers from beside him, when she uncovers a sliver of glass and peeks inside.

“What? S’it look like anyone’s been in there?” 

“No, it’s… Just get the door open.”

She goes to join him. Even with all the branches and roots and snow covering the bottom of the door removed, it will barely open when they both pull at it. Joel counts to three, and when they yank together it comes off its hinges, parts of the rotten tree of the frame coming with it. He moves it to the side, pulls his handgun out, and takes a step indoors.

As the daylight spills into the room, years of abandonment become glaringly evident. The shack, untouched for a long time, has gathered layers of dust and is swathed in an air of nostalgia. Cobwebs, like delicate lace curtains, hang in forgotten corners. A mysterious stillness prevails, only disrupted by the distant howl of the cold wind outside.

He understands her immediate reaction now. Wow, indeed. It’s like a time capsule. Clearly well lived-in, but not for years. Not since it all began, Joel thinks. It’s a tiny place, one room only. The floor hidden by the thick layer of dust, and the walls covered in frames and postcards. There’s a twin bed in one corner, and a loveseat in the other end of the room. The other corner houses a kitchenette, with a wood burning stove and jar on top of the bench that reads “cookies” in a quirky font. 

“Wow…” The exclamation falls out of her again. Joel looks at her, once he’s certain that the place is safe. She’s looking at the pictures on the walls, touching their frames with a careful hand. He lets her have a moment and moves to open one of the two kitchen cabinets.

There’s not much there. A bag of microwave popcorn, despite there being no microwave, or seemingly any electrical outlets at all. Two cans of beans. A pack of instant ramen. It’s food until tomorrow, he thinks, puts them on the counter, and reaches to open the other cupboard. 

He instinctively ducks as a swarm of black moths fly out. The sound of their collective fluttering wings has her turning as well, and she startles, gasping, the dark swarm moving straight to where she stands in front of the room’s only light source. She screeches, throwing herself to the floor and rolls around as the moths encircle her. Joel runs to waft them towards the open doorway, shimmying his jacket off to help. 

She’s covering her head, laying completely still, as if she’s being attacked by stinging wasps and not gray butterflies, and when the moths finally scatter, he reaches out to carefully touch her back. 

“You alright, chica?” he asks jokingly, squeezing her shoulder lightly. “They’re just moths, you’re okay.”

It’s another thirty seconds for her breath to slow. She sits up slightly, looking around, as if the moths are waiting for her. “I hate bugs so much,” she whispers. Joel can’t help but snicker. In a world full of zombies, and this girl is scared of insects. He grabs her hand, helping her back up to her feet where she wobbles for a second, clutching onto his sleeves.

“I got you.” The consolation just slips out of him. She looks up, mouth slightly open in surprise, before she bursts into laughter. The sound feels like oil in a rusty motor to his ears, and he can’t help but hold back a giggle himself. They stand there for a moment, letting their laughter fill the room, tears pressing out of her eyes.

Caught up in the moment, Joel reaches out to brush away a stray tear escaping her eyes and running down her cheek. He lingers a second too long, and her laughter softens quickly at the intimate gesture as she finds her breath again. She’s the first to look away.

“Look at this,” she says, clearing her throat and walking back towards the picture she was studying minutes ago. Joel walks up behind her, straining his eyes to see the details, his chest brushing her shoulder as he leans in closer.

The dusty gold frame, now a little shinier after her fingers brushing against its sides, wraps around an old faded photograph. Two people sit on a porch in front of a house, bigger than the one they’re in now but not a mansion. The little girl sits between the man’s legs, and they’re both grinning, the young girl seemingly in the middle of a guffaw. Neither of them looking at the camera, both too busy with each other.

A memory awakes in Joel, one he’s been shoving down again every time it’s threatened to spill out. But this time he lets it come. He’s sitting on a porch similar to the one in the picture, with his own little girl laughing in his lap. She was too ticklish (as was he), it was so easy to coax a laugh out of her, even if it always made her tickle him back, both refusing to stop until neither of them could catch a breath. His brother standing patiently behind the camera, wanting initially to get a proper portrait of the two, but ending up with dozens of silly candids, which was a better representation of the duo anyway. 

“She looks like my baby sister.” Her words pull him roughly back to reality, a ringing in his head as if he’s just been slammed to the ground. He hasn’t noticed he’s been holding his breath, and a little gasp escapes him as he finds his way back to the present. The soft sound has her turning to him, and his head snaps to her when she carefully grabs his arm.

“You okay?” Her brows are furrowed, it’s a familiar grimace, even though he hasn’t looked in a mirror for months. Their eyes lock, and neither look away. Joel’s hand moves up to touch her elbow, letting her know she can let go of him, but she doesn’t. She keeps his gaze, and this time, he looks away first.

“There’s some food here. S’pose we could stay for the night.” 

She looks to the one bed, and he quickly adds: “I’ll take the couch.”

“Don’t be stupid, man. You won’t even fit. You take the bed.”

He hurriedly sits down on the sofa, leaning his head back and crossing his arms determinedly.

“Already took this one. Too late.”

She sighs diligently, and rolls her eyes at him, moving towards the open doorway. 

“Whatever, tió. I’m setting a trap or something,” she says as she exits the cabin.

Joel bites his tongue for acting so childish, he’s not sure what’s gotten into him, and he fights with himself to find an excuse that’ll stop her from going.

“Whaddya mean ‘or somethin’?” 

But she’s already left.

They’ve eaten the beans and noodles cooked on Joel’s camp stove in silence. Stubbornly he’s made his way back on his couch, spine already aching from the springs poking through the cushions, and he’s watching his company take in the pictures she’s been staring at all evening. 

“You said she looks like your sister,” he prods carefully when neither of them have said anything for what seems like, even to Joel, too long.

“Yeah…” she answers absentmindedly, back still turned to him.

He gives her a minute before he prompts her again. “She anything like you?”

That gains him a snort. “Polar opposite.”

“How so?” He likes listening to her. Never been much of a talker himself, Joel is surprised to find he’s missed this. Casual chatting, getting to know new people. No pressure prattle, new input. Something to talk about, a break from thinking. Remembering. 

“Well for one,” She turns to him, and saunters over to sit on the armrest of the couch. “She’s a bitch.”

“Hm.” Joel purses his lips. “Thought you said opposite of you.”

A laugh. “Wow! Okay!” She nods, impressed with his audacity, charmed by his cheek. “Malo…”

He smiles at her crude Spanish vocabulary, reminded of his own sibling. “Sorry.” He doesn’t mean it.

She shimmies down from the armrest onto the couch next to him, knees to her chest, leaving half a pillow of space between them. “Who did it remind you of?” It takes him a second to understand what she’s referring to. His eyes glide from hers, questioningly, across the room to the picture on the wall.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry. I just…” She searches for her words, the right way to put it. “Felt you tense up behind me. Like you were somewhere else for a second.”

She’s right, of course. He was somewhere else. Across the country, 20 years ago. Memories flood his brain as he fights to hold the tears back. Her laugh, still loud in his ears, but weaker by the day. He clears his throat before speaking.

“M’daughter.” 

An understanding silence. She doesn’t ask more, just waits patiently for him to go on. If he wants to. 

“My daughter,” he says again. “Sarah. The girl in the photo reminded me of her.” 

It’s the first time he’s shared from that chapter of his life in years. Only Tess knew the words, and she was in the frozen ground now too. Only Tommy remains, as his family and keeper of Sarah’s memory. And he’s moved on, made a new family. It feels right, Joe thinks, to talk about his daughter with someone now. So that when it’s his turn to go, someone knows.

“It’s funny, about the moths earlier.” She watches him, his brows furrowed just like hers were earlier, and she’s careful not to move, not to startle him, like she’s trying to gain the trust of a scared or wounded animal. She holds her breath until he continues, seemingly lost in thought.

“Sarah loved butterflies. Would draw them everywhere. She’d chase them when she was little, and when she got older, she said they bring good luck.” He laughs an empty laugh and shakes his head. “As if seeing a bug with pretty wings decides your future.” 

“She hated moths though. Terrified of ‘em. Just like you.” His head turns slightly at that, dark eyes meeting hers before he continues.

“Whenever one flew into her room at night, she’d scream for me to come get it out… And they’re not even that different from the butterflies she loved. When you think about it. Just… grayer.” 

All the more reason to love them, he thinks, but doesn’t say.

Joel wakes with her memory over him. He had yet again pulled her from the fire but been unable to save her. His breath is hitching with each inhale, ears ringing loudly, and it takes him a second to realize she’s there. 

“Joel?” she whispers softly. “I didn’t know if I should wake you, you were yelling, and I–” 

She’s rambling, voice unsure, but the hand clutching his upper arm is assuring, grounding him, bringing him back. With her support he sits up slowly, groaning. It feels as if he's been body slammed, every bone and muscle aching, his forehead damp with sweat. 

“S’okay,” he guarantees her, voice coming back to him slowly but surely. “Happens all the time.”

Her hand moves from his bicep to where his neck meets his shoulder, massaging him lightly, and he tenses up again under her touch. Sensing he’s on edge, she lets go of him, making his eyes snap up to find hers at the loss of her touch. 

“Joel?” she whispers. He blinks at her slowly. “Will you let me take care of you?” 

The breath he releases makes him slump over, burying his head in his hands. 

“I don’t need taking care of,” he responds, but he believes it as little as she does.

So her arm finds its way back around his shoulders, palming big circles over his flannel. With the other hand on his knee, she continues the motion until his breathing slows to a comfortable pace. His body falls forward, elbows on his knees, and she lets her own body fall on top of his, covering his back like a heavy blanket. 

She gives a gentle squeeze to his arm, and as if on cue, he sits up slowly, giving her time to lift off from him. He’s not sure what comes over him when he leans in and presses the softest of kisses to the side of her mouth. She gives a soft gasp at the surprise, and he only pulls back halfway so he doesn’t have to look her in the eyes. 

“Joel,” she whispers again, begging him to look at her. And then he does. And their heads crash together in a kiss that’s more teeth than lips. No matter how much she thinks he deserves softness, no matter how much he wants it, it’s not in their nature. Not in this world. Softness, kindness, empathy is a rarity. It’s so hard to be tender in a world that’s so brutal.

So they give each other what they can, what they know. Teeth, bones, and the dull aching hunger of desperation. It’s no more pleasurable than sucking on a lollipop knowing a razor blade is waiting in the middle, and yet they devour each other. 

Joel sits back on the couch and pulls her into his lap. His hands firm on her hips, grinding her into his growing hardness. Their tongues fight for dominance, taking turns in each other’s mouths. A groan escapes him as she pulls hard at his curls, which are damp with perspiration. His fingernails paint red lines up and down her back underneath her shirt. 

After grinding against and moaning into each other for less time than either would have liked, Joel flips her in his lap, arms around her stomach, holding her flush against his chest. They both reach for the front of her jeans at the same time, and while she pulls them down, he tugs on his own, pulling his cock free. 

Neither of them really ready, they still crave the contact too much to wait. Holding her breath, she leans her head back on his shoulder, and he pushes two fingers into her mouth, wetting them before reaching down to palm himself. He wiggles the head of his not fully hard cock between her barely aroused folds, and they sigh in unison as he pushes in. She doesn’t mind the sting, and neither does he. Pleasure isn’t enough to keep the pain of existence away. You can only fight fire with fire, so it has to hurt.

The little moans and gasps slipping from her where she sits on top of him send waves of want from his ears to between his legs, and he grows harder inside of her. Her fingers claw into the skin on the sides of his hips as she holds herself in place, making him hiss as he pushes in and out of her, not quite sure whether from the burn or the bliss. 

Joel pushes her legs closer together with his own. She moans at the feeling of him filling her up, and she tries to turn her head to put her mouth on his, but he speeds up his thrusts, and she’s forced to hold onto his thighs for leverage. The pads of her fingers dig into his flesh, pinching him, leaving bruises to ignore in the morning. He does the same to her hips and holds her in place.

He plunges his cock clumsily into her a few more times before he reaches his climax. His arms wrap tightly around her, one across her abdomen and the other over her chest, squeezing her breast with his fingers so hard she chokes out an “ouch”, for the first time, just as his release shoots into her.

She can feel him pulse all the way in her core, almost in time with his heaving breath, chest rising and falling against her back. The only sound comes from outside, a distant howl, which she attributes to the wind, but which makes Joel freeze beneath her. Without warning he stands up, arms still supporting her, but he quickly lets go to tuck himself away, pick his gun up from the table, and he moves slowly towards the door which stands balanced against the doorway. Before he does anything else, he turns to her, brow furrowed, finger to his lips. 

With his gun pointed forwards, he peeks out the window she cleared earlier in the day.

Nothing.

He shuffles silently and efficiently across the floorboards and pushes the door open. For a second he just stands there, gun in hand, staring out into the dark, only his shoulders moving up and down with his quick but careful breaths. Almost a minute goes by where she doesn’t dare move either, before he puts the door back in place, and turns to her.

Nothing. They’re alone. 

a/n: well.......

[areyoudreaminof]

Dreams That Answer: A Feysand Playlist

Happy @officialfeysandweek2023! Day 1!

Would any of us be here were it not for Feysand? Would we be goofing around in this fandom if we didn’t love Feyre from the moment she took down the wolf? Would we be such simps if we hadn’t ever read, “Hello Feyre, darling.”? I love them. I love their journey and their growth. I love their blunders and mistakes. The very best kind of epic love story is the one that takes the most time and struggle, but defies all odds. Feyre and Rhys forever, baby! This is especially dedicated to the queen of all Feysand's @the-lonelybarricade.

If my initial character playlists for Feyre and Rhysand represent them as individuals before they meet each other, this playlist is when they come together. I wanted to show their strong bond and love for one another. So LISTEN HERE, and come on behind the cut for lyrics!

After Hours-The Weeknd

Thought I almost died in my dream again Fightin' for my life, I couldn't breathe again I'm fallin' in too deep Without you, I can't sleep 'Cause my heart belongs to you I'll risk it all for you I want you next to me This time, I'll never leave

Arabesque-Coldplay

I could be you, you could be me Two raindrops in the same sea You could be me, I could be you Two angles of the same view And we share the same blood

Holiest-Glass Animals & Tei Shi

Climb until you're getting high Be a part of the scene like you're living your dream Walk the room like you're on fire Like your chasing the truth, gripping tight to your youth

But you're the holiest thing I know Yes, you're the holiest thing, holiest thing I know

Eavesdrop-The Civil Wars

Let’s let the stars watch, let them stare Let the wind eavesdrop, I don’t care For all that we’ve got, don’t let go Just hold me I can’t pull you closer than this It’s just you and the moon on my skin Oh, who says it ever has to end?

Fade Into You-Mazzy Star

I wanna take the breath that's true I look to you and I see nothing I look to you to see the truth You live your life, you go in shadows You'll come apart and you'll go blind Some kind of night into your darkness Colored your eyes with what's not there

Night Terror-Laura Marling

If I look back and he is screaming I'd left him dreaming; a dangerous feat And I'll run back and shake him tightly And scream, "If they want him, oh, they're gonna have to fight me Oh, fight me"

Starry Eyed-Ellie Goulding

So we burst into colors, colors and carousels Fall head first like paper planes and playground games

Next thing, we're touching You look at me, it's like you hit me with lightning Oh, everybody's starry-eyed And everybody glows

Empire-Of Monsters and Men

I find comfort in the sound and the shape of the heart How it echoes through the chest from under the ground As the hills turn into holes, I fill them with gold Heavy stones fear no weather And from the rain Comes a river running wild that will create An empire for you Illuminate There's a river running wild that will create An empire for you

But You-Alexandra Savior

Speak soft, speak slight now, honey It feels a little empty in the night now, honey Drift back, drift right down on me I know that you can feel it 'Cause nobody else can heal it but you

Hold Back The River-James Bay

Lonely water, lonely water won't you let us wander? Let us hold each other Hold back the river, let me look in your eyes Hold back the river so I Can stop for a minute and be by your side Hold back the river, hold back

Only In My Dreams-The Maria's

Baby stay here The whispers in the trees Are getting near You're everything I need To bare this fear The demons in my bed They're always here It's only just a dream

Lips-Marian Hill

Overwhelmed, hazy eyes Staring at tinted skies And I like, what we do Running wild, just us two

Can't Deny My Love-Brandon Flowers

What's going on in your head now? Maybe something I said? I know that you've been living in the past

Locked up in your room is there any room for me? In the spoils of your mercy In the reverence of your bed In the cradle of the morning What was it that you said?

telepatia-Kali Uchis (please note, much of this song is in Spanish)

You know that I can see right through you I can read your mind, I can read your mind What you wanna do? It's written all over your face, times two 'Cause I can read your mind, I can read your mind I can hear your thoughts like a melody

Wild Green-Foals

Spring is on its way now, lilac April rain Mayfly spreads its wings at the end of a day Let me fold myself in the corner of a day Never leave, never leave, let me stay Let me lay my head down, let me while away Holding back the hours, I'll keep them all at bay Let me fold myself in the corner of a day Before the rain comes and washes us away

Sea of Love-Cat Power

Come with me, my love To the sea The sea of love I want to tell you How much I love you

Ultralife-Oh Wonder

Days passed slowly, lost and low You gave me hope and now there's only Blood running in my veins I've never been here before And I got love falling like the rain I never could've asked for more I got so much soul inside my bones Take a look at me now I'm young, forever in the sun

Cosmic Love-Florence + the Machine

I took the stars from our eyes, and then I made a map And knew that somehow I could find my way back Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too So I stayed in the darkness with you

taglist: @wilde-knight @c-e-d-dreamer @climb-the-mountian @damedechance @eyllweambassador @gaeleria @itsthedoodle @kataravimes-of-the-shire @krem-does-stuff @kingofsummer93 @lidiacervos @labellefleur-sauvage @lucienarcheron @octobers-veryown @popjunkie42-blog @reverie-tales @rosanna-writer @spell-cleavers @separatist-apologist @thesistersarcheron @ultadverb @asnowfern @ablogofsapphicpanic @vulpes-fennec @velidewrites @melting-houses-of-gold @wittyrejoinder @bagelfyre @xtaketwox @brieq @thelovelymadone

[be-my-ally]

Do you mind?

This is pure, meet-cute, fluff where literally nothing happens. For the prompt - “Do you mind? I came here to get away from other people.” 

thanks to @whositmcwhatsit for the game + @thatbanditqueen for the prompt + @ellie-24 , @vintageshanny , @missmaywemeetagain + @from-memphis-with-love for the fun!!

I super stupidly got a lil bit confused with scheduling this post so ... it's uhh.... by my attempts at scheduling the post 13 hours early, but actually 11 hours late. many apologies folks.

It’s overwhelming - the noise, the people, the conversations. You just need five minutes to yourself, time to take a breather, and try and get yourself back together. You hadn’t known everyone was going to be bringing a partner, or a date, to this party; you’d managed to forgive Nancy for it, because she was the one picking you up (or rather Paul,  her date, was driving) but you had felt blindsided when the group was waiting outside, double the size you had expected since everyone had their plus ones. It was meant to be casual, the birthday party of Sharon’s brother - the perfect excuse for a get-together of people who were now all busy with their own lives. It was meant to have been a chance for you and your friends to catch up and have some fun; you’d all agreed to attend as a group - no partners. Worse than being blindsided as the only girl solo was how left-out you were feeling, it was just making you feel lonely. 

You make your way across the lobby, desperate to find somewhere quiet - away from the other event rooms, or guests. Build yourself back up to going in, stay for the toasts and leave politely after another half hour. You check the time on the large clock above the reception desk as you wander past; half past eleven. A pitiful time to be wanting to leave a party. You want to roll your eyes, internally berating yourself for being so overdramatic. You cringe as you think about how much you’re now looking forward to being tucked up in bed, cup of tea in hand, with perhaps one of the gossip magazines you’d picked up earlier in the week and how much you wished you could just skip this whole party.  It’s quite a large hotel, and there’s several reception and event rooms but eventually, on the other side of the lobby, you stumble into an empty and dark space; seemingly some sort of library/games room situation, judging from the bookshelves surrounding the walls.

You look around, seeing, in the barely-there dim light from the hallway that allowed the objects in the room to be just visible, a little couch nestled in a corner. You practically throw yourself onto it, burrowing your head into the cushion. Ugh, it had been frustrating, and ultimately overwhelming to have to continue to answer the exact same questions again and again from the other people at the party - the same two worded responses coming out of your mouth. 

Where was your boyfriend? Not here. Did you come with a date? Not today. Are you still ‘going’ with Daniel? Not anymore. Sorry to hear about your dad. Thank You. They almost all responded with a similar politely sad but evidently morbidly curious face; clearly desiring to know if your break-up had occurred before or after your father’s funeral, or wanting to know more details in general. It had almost been worse when the questions had ended and small-talk had resumed; relief at the chance to not have to explain your life, but annoyance that it was clearly only because word had spread about your situation. You kick your feet against the sofa cushions still feeling your upset rise again at the memory of being stood in your group of friends while everyone around you laughed about their wedding plans with no regard for the fact that most of them knew that you and Daniel had broken up almost a month ago. 

You reach out, fingertips knocking against something, before your fingers curl under the cushion. 

You scream into it, muffling the noise - as frustrated as you were it would be mortifying to be found like this. You relax for a second as you lose your breath, for some, potentially insane reason you can feel your annoyance lessening and your body starting to release the tension it had been holding. You ready yourself for another, 

But you’re distracted when you take another breath, ready to go again, by a faint cough in the opposite corner. 

“Do you mind?” Your head whirls around, noticing for the first time, a man sat in an armchair on the other side. You push the cushion you’d been screaming into back into its place as surreptitiously as possible, blushing at the idea that someone had just witnessed your behaviour. 

“I came here to get away from other people.” He says it in such a tone that you’re immediately annoyed again, who was he to speak to you like that? You scoff, nose wrinkling; 

“Huh? Well yeah, me too.” He makes a wordless harrumphing noise and you roll your eyes. “I have just as much of a right to be here as you do.”  He doesn’t respond - standing up and starting to walk over to the sofa. He walks through the streak of light shining across the floor from the window in the door and you quickly realise why his voice had seemed familiar. You blink, slightly dazed at seeing Elvis walking towards you, frantically sitting up and smoothing out your skirt; panicked voice in your head telling you to be calm, it’s ok, he’s just a man, don’t panic.

He plops himself down beside you, for a man claiming he was out here to get away from people he had clearly been desperate for company, leaning back against the cushions. He angles himself sideways to get a better look at you, and you tuck your legs up - deciding there was little point in pretending to be all prim and proper when he had just witnessed your miniature breakdown. It means you can sit sideways on the couch - examining his side profile. His hair is coiffed within an inch of its life and it immediately makes you want to muss it up, you wonder if he feels the relief you do when you can finally brush out your Elnett. You sit in silence for a moment, but you can’t resist for much longer than a couple of minutes. 

“What - What are you doing out here?” You glance at his fancy looking suit and tie, “You, uh, here for a party?” He shakes his head at your tentative questions, glancing over at you, 

“it’s a- uh benefit thing but it’s really just an excuse for everyone to hound me for somethin’ or other, half of the producers are in there… they want me to do more movies, I don’t know - I, I,  shouldn’t tell you this but I’m not happy with them at the moment and I-I want to go back to the music but…I don’t know.” You frown, having no idea how to respond to that, hesitating briefly before patting his arm gently. 

“Oh, that sounds awful - you should be able to do whatever you want to do.” He huffs a little laugh at that, staring across the room before turning back to you, 

“Anyway honey, what’s got you all screamin’ into that little pillow - what’d it ever do to you?” He smiles as you blush, you were still hoping that by some miracle he might not have noticed that - although you suppose a screaming girl flinging herself onto a sofa was pretty obvious. 

It sounds trivial and childish when you try to explain, especially in the face of his own, clearly much larger and important problems; “‘s just - I’ve had this difficult break up recently, and all my friends were gonna come to this party solo but they’ve, they’ve actually all brought their partners and I’m just, all on my own. I just, I didn’t want to come anyway but I definitely wouldn’t have agreed to come if I’d known!” 

“Pretty thing like you couldn’t get a date?” You blink at him, he’s turned the charm on full force and it feels almost a bit much to have his bright eyes focussed on you. 

“No-no it wasn’t like that,” You’re quick to deny that it was something you’d failed to do, “I didn’t know! They all told me we were coming together!” He laughs, a little cruelly, 

“And you believed ‘em?” You frowned, squirming a little - you had believed them, perhaps in sheer desperation to make it worthwhile leaving your house, or from the belief that they also wanted to spend time with you. You shrug, unsure what else to say, you wish you weren’t going home to an empty house, you wish you’d at least been able to have fun this evening, but it wasn’t like you’d be able to do anything about it now. You change the subject, 

“Tell me more about the movies, do you not like making them?” You tried to remember if you’d even been to see his latest release, but couldn’t even remember the name to suggest it wasn’t as bad as he thought. He looks pleased that you’re interested, and starts to chat away - explaining his reservations with the soundtracks, and filming methods. You are listening, but there’s something about his voice, and while you’re interested in what he’s telling you, fascinated by the glimpse into an industry so removed from your everyday life as he starts to go into the intricacies of his studio contracts you can feel your attention beginning to wane. Your eyes starting to drift close, and your head dipping towards his shoulder. A moment later his hand, somehow simultaneously heavy and delicate, brushes your shoulder, startling you out of your relaxed almost-asleep state. 

“C’mon honey, who’s gonna take you home? You got a car?” You blink, shaking your head, 

“No, no I’m uh, No, I got a ride here - It’s not far though,” You shrug, “I can get a cab, or walk.” He frowns at you, 

“You’re dead on your feet,” He looks at you sideways, as if assessing you for something, “I got a room upstairs, you can join me if you like?” You blink properly awake at that, a surge of anxiety rippling through you - as much as you’d want to you’re not ready for anything intimate again, too fragile. The idea of having to turn down Elvis though is sending your heart racing. 

“I don’t, I don’t know if I can, I haven’t, not with just anyone and my, my, boy-my ex-boyfriend he was uh, no I think I really ought to go home.” He nods, a little sadly, 

“Well that’s alright sweetheart, if you want, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea - just, just offering to, uh, sleep mama, that’s all.” He looks back at you, completely earnest, eyes wide, and you can feel yourself caving in, 

“Well alright then. But, no funny business.” He does a scout salute as he beams at you, and you giggle - relaxing again; you know you shouldn’t trust him, he’s still a man you’ve just met and yet he just gives off an air, that you somehow know you’ll be safe with him. 

Your nerves skyrocket as he pulls you by the hand into the elevator, you hope he can’t feel your anxiety through your clammy hands, and you wonder how it is that he was just able to sneak away so easily. He starts to talk in the confined space, you wonder if he can tell you were getting nervous, telling you,

“I’m not sure if it’s the same thing,” Looking a little nervous himself, “Because I haven’t - haven’t uh had a split, but I, I get lonely too. I just, just like having someone ‘round to uh, take care of… or take care of me.” He whispers it like a secret and your heart aches a little for him, but before you can respond the doors are opening and he’s pulling you down the hallway. It’s not that late so you don’t expect for him to immediately be directing you through to the bathroom, instructing you to get ready for bed, but you also can’t find the energy to protest. 

You’re glad, now you’re thinking about it, that you didn’t bother with too-much make up, as you inspect your face, hopeful that keeping it on throughout the night won’t make you break out too much. His voice though chimes in through the door - almost as if he could hear your thoughts; 

“There’s cold cream on the side there, honey.” You’re pleased, but also a little disconcerted - was that how many women he had over? Your eyes rove over the counter, seeing the little jar on the side, and you reach for it - before noticing the little stack of eyeliners and mascaras, oh, it’s for him. You hate that that makes you feel better - you shouldn’t be feeling jealous, he’d invited you up here to sleep, because it was convenient. Nothing else. 

You leave the bathroom, having taken the pins out of your hair and brushed it out, and face fresh from being washed to find him waiting for you. He had already gotten himself changed - monogrammed silk-satin pyjamas that looked almost too similar to something your father might have worn, it made you smile to yourself. You still couldn’t believe you were getting to see him like this. He motions you forward, 

“Let me take care of you, honey,” You frown, a little confused, until he’s turning you around to undo the waistband on your party dress, his fingers light over the zipper down your back. You clutch the dress to your chest as it starts to open down your back, still shy about showing off too much to him. You can’t help but shiver as you feel his hands on your bare skin; perhaps you’ve been touch starved since your break-up, it feels like an age since you’ve even had a fingertip brush across your body. You yelp a little when he tugs the dress down, pulling it off of your arms and away from your torso, pooling at your feet. He chuckles when you wrap an arm around yourself, embarrassed at your boring, old, bra slip and underwear, 

“S’ok baby, here put these on.” He hands you a soft cotton shirt, and you nibble your lip looking at him for a moment, before he playfully huffs and putting a hand over his eyes, “I won’t look, go on.” You hastily pull the slip off, quickly shrugging the shirt on.

“Ok, you can open your eyes again.” He looks over at you, smiling, clearly pleased with however you look. You feel like a child, but you honestly couldn’t care less. Instead you make the subconscious decision to lean into the warmth and coziness he was providing, clambering under the bedsheets he pulled back, fingering the EP adorned on your breast while you waited for him to come back from the bathroom. You’d only known him two hours and now you were feeling owned. It wasn’t, however, an unwelcome feeling, alarmingly domestic perhaps, worryingly forward but not unwelcome. 

When he returns he turns off the lights, climbing in behind you. You know you should be more reserved, more reluctant but you can’t find it in yourself to be instead curling into his body, his arms automatically coming around you. You can't help but hope that this might happen again as outlandish as it might seem. But if nothing else ever comes from it at least you can sleep happy that it had been worth your while leaving the house tonight, if only for the feel of his warm body against yours, and the knowledge of how his hair looks before he goes to bed.

…

[impressivegaydar]

Part 2: From the river to the sea.

Ellie Williams x Fem Oc who is a seraphite.

2 months.

It had been 2 months since she left the Seraphites.

2 months, and she had encountered about a dozen of demons. She wouldn’t have gone as far as to say that it had been easy, but she would say she started to get the hands of things; she found her way smoothly around a bow and an arrow, and something the Seraphites sure managed to teach her was to be sneaky: she moved like a leaf, taken by the wind.

However, resources and supplies were limited. And of course, going downtown would be too risky; with the Wolves’ regular patrols and the giant scar across her mouth…let’s say they wouldn’t miss her. Therefore, the plan was to get out of Seattle.

And even though her journey was quiet, lonely, intense at times, and near deadly at other: she could get accustomed to it, at least that’s what she believed.

Every day came with its challenges, new and unusual. Which also meant she had to acquire new skills, new techniques and furtive, sometimes unethical, ways to survive.

May my hands remain pure…no matter how much blood they have on them.

On her way out of the city, she took her chances and decided to go out looking for some supplies before leaving. She searched up the entire area full of abandoned stores, pharmacies, restaurants before stumbling upon an abandoned coffee shop; the sign up front spelled “yalla” and under it, a curvy looking scripture she concluded was another language. Inside the shop, red, black and green flags filled every inch of the walls, some were damaged, some were intact. She explored the shop, finding used up bottles here and there, tape and scissors all the while admiring the pictures framed on the walls: there was what she guessed was a group of friends, wearing what looked like a scarf, in a way that covered up most of their faces, apart from their eyes.

“That could be useful.” she whispered to herself.

She wandered around the place some more, finding flyers reading “Free Palestine” almost everywhere on the ground. Palestine. That could be a person, but considering the flags posted up in the entire shop, she figured it was more of a place. Who knows, maybe she would get to visit it someday, if only she knew where it was located.

She checked one last corner of the coffee shop, opening up its final drawer, and that’s where she found it: that white scarf filled with a sort of black enigmatic pattern, the one in the picture, it was right between her hands and it looked as good as new. Keffiyeh  the note on top of it spelled. Right, Keffiyeh. And something told her that founding the Keffiyeh was no hazard, nor was finding out about this Palestine thing. However, she didn’t think much more on it, she contented herself with trying to wear the Keffiyeh just like the people on the picture and leaving the shop right before dusk finally hit.

One look back before leaving, and she noticed a huge graffiti on there that said:

“From the river to the sea.”

That one reminded her of a prayer her dad used to say before going on duty:

We seek her mercy in the waters.

Perhaps, that’s what they meant too by that.