#oh to be woke and southern

[not-so-superheroine]

responding in an email to my apostle like "Hi, David" because adding a title seems pretentious in this case.

he started off with "Hello [Superheroine]" so i guess that's proper.

the only "title" i have is Sister.

and we are equal under the eyes of the Lord but i still struggle with emailing people with their first names if we don't have established rapport.

because i would say "Dr. [so and so] or Rev. [so and so], when appropriate.

hmmm...

not that big a deal but i agonize over emails.

edit: i am too old for this. my southern upbringing has honorifics as essential. but it is also at times inappropiate.

edit 2: i went with "Hi, David"

[muffinlance]

Hi ! prompt idea : What if Zuko was armed during the first episode and was stranded with the water tribe while the avatar left with Katara and Sokka, Iroh on his trail for white lotus reasons.

Oh we are going to have us some FUN with "stranded with the water tribe", say no more.

---

Zuko was dripping, and steaming, and staring down two dozen women and their gaggle of small children, plus that old not-the-Avatar crone from earlier. They were all cowering away from him. Which was--

Good. It was good. If they were cowering, then they hadn’t noticed how steam was not flames. He wasn’t sure he could make flames, not after the arctic water he’d landed in, with that last sight of the Avatar glowing; not after surfacing under the ice pack, after swimming, after kicking slamming breaking through and his ship was gone and there was only ocean all around and

and he’d made it back to this pathetic little camp of the Southern Water Tribe, because that was the only place he knew for sure would have shelter, and he wasn’t going to die just because they were all staring at him, even if felt like he would.

Even if the old not-the-Avatar woman could probably take him, right now. But she didn’t know that.

Zuko pulled himself up, taller than her by at least a few inches, and blew steam from his nose.

“I am commandeering one of your huts,” he said. And added, because Uncle said even a prince should be gracious: “You may choose which one.”

---

She choose her own.

...The only one without children that flames might scar, or younger women to catch a soldier’s interests.

Zuko sat by her fire and determinedly started struggling out of his wet clothes and she was still in here with him--

Zuko pulled one of her animal pelts over himself, and finished fighting off his clothes. When he stuck his head back out, cheeks still reddened from what was obviously the cold, she dropped a parka on his head.

“Dry clothes, Your Highness,” she said.

The parka was much bigger than he was. He fell asleep hoping that the camp’s men were on a long, long hunting trip.

---

He woke up again. Kanna tucked her favorite ulu knife away, newly sharpened, and stopped contemplating the alternative.

---

“I am commandeering a ship,” he said.

The crone led him across the village, all twenty paces of it, to a row of canoes.

“Take whichever one you want,” she said. “Will you need help getting it to the water?”

Zuko looked at the canoes. Looked at the ocean. Watched a leopard seal, easily the size of the largest canoe, dozing just past the ice his own ship had broken through the day before. It was frozen again, a great icy arrow pointing from the waves to the village, snow already starting to cover it over.

Beyond was blue sky and gray ocean and white ice, floating in blocks like stepping stones, like boulders, like cliffsides.

There wasn’t even a hint of gray steel, or smoke. Or any land, besides what they were standing on.

He looked down at the canoes again. Somehow, they seemed even smaller.

“I, uh,” Zuko cleared his throat. “I’ll require supplies. Before I go.”

---

They... did not have supplies. Not extra ones. This didn’t stop them from trying to give him supplies, food and blankets and anything else he could think to ask for. But each blanket was a pelt hunted by someone’s grandfather, had been inked with images and stories by someone’s mother, was the favorite of someone’s husband or brother or uncle or cousin--

They couldn’t go to the nearest market to replace things, here.

And when they talked about food, about what they could spare, they kept sneaking glances to their children, who were sneaking glances at Zuko from the huts, sticking their heads just over the snowy ledges like their fur-trimmed hoods would hide them. Their mothers and aunts shooed them away, and they crept back, like barnacle-crabs. Zuko glared, and they disappeared.

“When are your men coming back?” he asked. “They’re hunting, aren’t they?”

Oh. So that was what they looked like, when they weren’t trying to hide their hate.

---

Zuko wrapped himself up in the same blanket that night. It was printed inside with fine lines and images, telling a story he didn’t know. He wondered whose favorite it was.

---

Kanna wondered how quickly he’d wake—if he’d wake—if she built the fire up with wet driftwood and tundra grass, if she had one of the younger girls boost up a child to plug the air hole, if she let the smoke draw its own blanket down over this fire child.

---

It was hard to know when to wake up, because the sun never set. So everyone was up before him, and they all had spears and clubs and—and nets, and trap lines, and snow googles with their single slat to protect the eyes from snow blindness. Zuko had seen those once, at the Ember Island Museum of Ethnography, where they’d gone when it was too rainy for anything more exciting.

Oh. They were going hunting.

“Give me that,” Zuko said, and took a spear.

The women looked at him. One of them adjusted her googles.

“I can hunt,” he scowled.

He did not, in fact, know how to hunt.

---

“Give me that,” the Fire Prince said, and Kanna almost, almost gave him her ulu. Humans, like most animals, had an artery in their legs that would bleed them quick enough.

She kept skinning the rabbit-mink one of the women had snared.

“I can help,” he said, with less grace than most of their toddlers. Likely with the skinning skills of a toddler, too. She wasn’t going to let their unwanted visitor ruin a perfectly good pelt.

“Chop the meat,” she said, and gave him a different knife. “It’s dinner.”

“...This is really sharp,” he said a moment later, looking at the knife with some surprise.

“Is it,” said Kanna.

---

Things the Fire Prince was convinced he could do: hunt (until he realized he couldn’t tell the tracks of a rabbit-mink from a leopard-rabbit apart); spear fish (at least he could dry himself); pack snow for an igloo (frustrated princes ran hot); ice fish (the prince was a problem that kept coming close to solving itself).

Things the Fire Prince could actually do: mince meat, increasingly finely; gather berries and herbs, once he stopped trying to crush them; dig roots, under toddler supervision; mend nets, after the intermediary step of learning to braid hair loopies.

“Can’t I take him ice fishing again?” asked one of the women, as she watched Prince Zuko put as much apparent concentration into braiding her daughter’s hair as his people had into exterminating hers.

“Wait,” said another woman, sitting up straight. “Wait wait wait. I just had an idea.”

---

Three words: Infinite. Hot. Water.

---

Summer was coming to an end. The sun actually set, now, and the night was getting longer, and colder. The salmon-otter nets were mended and ready. The smoking racks were still full of cod-lemmings. The children were all a little older, the women all a little more used to doing both halves of their tribes’ chores; a little more used to not watching the horizon, waiting for help to come.

The Fire Prince was staring at the canoes again.

“Are you actually going to try leaving in one of those?” Kanna asked.

“...No.”

“Come on, then; someone needs to watch the kids while the women are hunting.”

She didn’t leave him alone with them, of course. But she could have.

---

Elsewhere, the war continued.

The moon turned red, for a moment none could sleep through; they did not learn why.

The comet came and went, leaving their castaway prince laying on the beach, his breath fogging up into the night sky above him, as the energy crashed from his system as quickly as it had come. Above, lights began to dance in the sky; Zuko pulled his hood up, so none of those spirits—children, dead too soon—got any ideas about kicking his head off to be their ball.

The war had ended. The world didn’t feel any different; no one in the south would know until spring came again.

---

Suffice it to say, Sokka and Katara were not prepared for this particular homecoming.

[brattyfics]

Sins of The Flesh

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]

Wordcount: 3,000+

Warnings: 18+ Minors Do Not Interact, No physical description of OC other than her being black, Spanking, D/S Dynamics, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), Bratty!OC, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, a tiny bit of Degradation Kink, No P in V, Slight Angst

A/N: Divider by fireflygraphics. Special shoutout to @megamindsecretlair who inspired me to write something for the first time in too long. Thank you!

Riley was the picture-perfect Southern belle. With a preacher for a father and a teacher for a mother, she always kept up her manners in public. But behind closed doors, she had a talent for getting into trouble—and her relationship with Terry Richmond was no different.

He was her very own Black G.I. Joe—six feet, four inches of solid muscle. Intense, stormy green eyes and the face of an Adonis. A flawless specimen—and completely hers.

That morning, she woke up with a familiar ache in her belly. Terry had been gone the entire week to celebrate his cousin Mike’s homecoming, while she stayed behind due to a special work project. It had been seven long days without so much as a touch from the man who couldn’t keep his hands off her whenever they were alone.

He'd returned late Saturday, slipping into bed quietly to avoid waking her.

It was Sunday morning, and as the preacher’s daughter, she knew she had to be at her best. But sleep had eluded her. The rollers she wore to sleep were uncomfortable, and she never slept well when Terry wasn’t there. She woke up feeling restless, only to turn over and see him.

He was bare-chested, the morning light making his skin glisten. The bedsheets were pushed down to his hips, and the outline of his body was impossible to ignore. Her mouth watered.

When her gaze finally made its way up to his face, his eyes were already on her. Terry was always up by six, but some days, he'd stay in bed a little longer just for her.

She kissed her way up his body, starting from his neck and working toward his lips, straddling him.

“Mornin’, baby,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly, making her heart flutter. His green eyes framed by naturally long lashes—lashes she spent a hundred dollars a month trying to replicate—fixed on hers. He pulled her down for a tight hug, his lips finding her jaw. She sighed, feeling his strength encase her. 

“What time did you get in? I missed you,” she admitted, feeling a little foolish. She was a grown woman, had spent most of her adult life without him, but sometimes it felt like she couldn’t breathe without him there.

His facial hair, grown in during the week they’d been apart, tickled her skin as he nuzzled into her neck—a silent way of saying, "I missed you too."

They lay there for a few moments before he stirred. One arm wrapped around her back, the other reaching for his phone on the nightstand. “We gotta get up. It’s almost eight.”

She groaned. “It’s too early.”

She was up before sunrise on workdays, but weekends were different.

“Come on, we have to.” He patted her back gently.

“Excuse you…” She sat up, crossing her arms with her legs still draped over his hips. “You just got back and you're bossing me around. You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

He wouldn’t admit it, but he loved how spoiled she could act sometimes. She knew he’d give her the world if she asked, and it boosted his ego to know she trusted him that much—knew, deep down, he would always protect and care for her.

“Oh, you think you’re running the show now?” he teased, raising a brow. She bit her lip, debating how to respond. Terry Richmond wasn’t the type of man to play petty games with, but she liked to do it every now and then, just to keep things interesting.

“Duh. I thought you knew.”

He let out a deep laugh from his core, right in her face. She huffed and tried to move away from his lap, but in an instant, he had rolled them over, pinning her beneath him as they both giggled.

“Who gave you command?”

His hand wrapped gently around her neck, and the playful moment turned serious. He positioned himself between her legs, morning wood pressed against her thigh, and her face flushed.

“You did.” She swallowed hard, remembering the last time they were in this position—his hand firm around her throat as he took control. The unspoken command hung in the air: tell me what I want to hear, and I’ll give you what you want.

He raised an eyebrow, “Me?”

“Yeah,” She smirked, “You disappeared so I had to improvise.” Her voice softened, teasing but with a warmth that hinted she missed him. “Maybe don’t leave me hanging next time, huh?”

He shook his head with a chuckle, then his lips crushed against hers, the kiss demanding, until her thoughts were consumed by him and only him. Her back arched, hips shifting as she sought him out. His hand found her neck again as he slowly pulled away, as if it pained him to stop.

“We gotta get up. I let you miss another Sunday, and your dad will never let me live it down.”

His sudden shift in tone made her scowl, especially as he tapped her legs to free himself from her grip. “Why are you talking about my father right now?”

“Get up.” His tone tolerated no dissent, and she reluctantly allowed him to pull her to her feet.

She followed him into the guest bathroom, where he'd gone to shower in peace. She dragged her soapy hands down his back, teasing him, offering to help him dry off but using it as an excuse to grope him instead. He wouldn’t give in. She spent the rest of the morning testing his resolve, brushing against him as he scrambled their eggs, and bending at the waist to give him a peek under her slip after "accidentally" dropping the house keys.

By the time they reached the church parking lot, a frown lingered on her made-up face, fading only as they approached the church doors, where she transformed into the picture-perfect preacher’s daughter.

Smiling, saying all the right things, all the while thinking about Terry. It wasn’t right, thinking these things in church, but she couldn’t help it. She prayed for forgiveness but couldn’t stop herself from reminiscing about him—the way he drove her to the brink of madness, how good he always made her feel. 

The singing of hymns and the preaching faded into the background as she focused on the analog clock hanging above the pulpit. Church seemed to drag on even longer than usual, as if the universe were conspiring with Terry to tease her to death. He sat there, as tempting as the devil, his button-up shirt clinging to his muscular arms and thick thighs defined even in slacks.

By the time they reached the car, she felt like she was on the verge of catching fire. She’d waved hurriedly at her parents before dragging Terry out the church doors, complaining about the traffic. She was sure her mom would call her and fuss about it later, but she’d deal with that when the time came. He didn’t say a word until they were driving down the main road, his eyes glancing over at her.

“You’ve been acting wild all day. You that desperate for my dick?”

“What?” 

“You heard me. You want it that bad?” He repeated himself, a sly smirk playing on his lips. Her mouth hung open as she processed his words. In the bedroom, he was her Daddy—dominant, demanding, intense. A bit of a bedroom bully, but never harsh. She was his princess, and he treated her like one. Terry didn’t usually talk to her like this, but she couldn’t deny the heat that pooled between her legs at his words.

She wished she had something clever to say, but the truth was that her desire for him ran deeper than he could ever realize. “I can’t help it,” she admitted, leaning over the center console to caress his leg. She gave him those Bambi eyes and spoke softly. “I need you, baby.” 

“I get it. I've been counting down the days too,” He promised. His voice was steady and calm—too calm—while she felt like she was on the edge. He had unbuttoned the top of his shirt when they got in the car, and all she could think about was undoing the rest. The way the water had cascaded down his chest this morning was sinful. Her thighs clenched together subconsciously. 

“I need more than just talk right now,” She grumbled, remembering how he had rejected her earlier that morning. She’d wanted him so badly that she dropped to her knees, promising to make it worth his while. But he remained composed, pulling her back up for a soft kiss on the corners of her mouth. “Later,” he had promised.

All week, she had struggled to concentrate at work, her thoughts consumed with him. And now that he was back, he didn’t seem in any hurry to change that. He should have woken her up last night, church be damned— The same way he did any other night he wanted to be inside her. Her hand inched up to his thigh and squeezed.

When her fingertips grazed his dick, he gently grabbed her hand and lifted it from his lap. “Relax,” he warned, his voice adopting that stern tone she usually loved. But now, it just grated on her nerves. Terry Richmond—who was always so eager—was telling her to relax about sex. How many mornings had he insisted on having her before he left for work? How many days had he stalked her around the house, grabbing her any way he wanted? How many nights had he promised to “do all the work” if she just let him inside?  

She kissed her teeth and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring out at the cars ahead. He was full of it.

“What’s this? You got an attitude now?”

She snapped before she could stop herself. “What do you think, Terry?” Aggravation burned in her chest, and his eyes widened at her tone. Apparently, his week away had been too long—she had lost her damn mind. 

“Any other time, you can’t get enough of me, and now you’re acting like I’ve got the cooties. What’s going on with you?”

“What are you trying to get at?” he asked, sounding annoyed, and it was clear on his face. She stared back at him as his gaze flicked between her and the road, as if her eyes could uncover whether he had been faithful. She trusted Terry, but she already knew Mike’s wild ass had plenty of strippers and trouble around. 

What else was she supposed to think? Terry was only a man after all. 

“For real?” he replied, meeting her suspicious gaze. “You think I’d do you like that?” 

Her stomach flipped. In her heart, she felt one thing, but her head was a different monster altogether. She had a tendency to overthink and jump to conclusions. Terry usually made her feel so secure that it wasn’t an issue. “So, just because I’m not moving fast enough for you, I must be cheating, huh?” He looked at her like a wounded lion.

“I don’t know, Terry,” she shifted her gaze away from him, knowing she had overreacted. “I’m just frustrated, okay?” The silence that fell between them felt heavy. She knew she had made a mistake. “I’m sorry,” she added, her voice softening. “I know you’re not like that; I was just... I don’t know.”

Just like Muni Long, she wished for a Time Machine.

The sting of her accusation settled in his gut. He couldn’t begin to understand why she would doubt him after everything they’d been through.

Terry remained silent for the rest of the ride. Not even when he parked the car, opened her passenger door, and unlocked the house did he say a word. He let her in first, just like always, but the usual kisses to her neck were absent. Instead, he slipped off to the guest room to change while she undressed in their shared bedroom, feeling like a brat. The pretty polka dot dress and brand new stockings he should have been removing only added to her sadness.

She removed her makeup in a somber mood, then finally made her way to the living room when she could no longer put it off. Terry had changed into a T-shirt and shorts, sprawled across the couch while fiddling with the remote, flipping through channels she knew he wasn’t interested in at all.

She settled onto his lap, her thighs gripping him to keep him close. He avoided her gaze until she cupped his face in her hands, gently forcing him to meet her eyes. There was a storm brewing, one that she had caused. “Don’t be like that,” she pleaded.

She rested her head against his broad chest, cuddling into the warmth beneath her. With her chin snuggled comfortably, she gazed up into his eyes. “I’m sorry. I was wrong– so wrong. I know who you are and that you wouldn’t hurt me. Please forgive me. I was trippin’.”

He took a deep breath and ran a hand across his low fade, trying to process his emotions. “You really scared me with that.” He grabbed her hand and held it tightly. “I need you to understand that it’s not easy for me to shake off what you said. I love you, but I need to know you trust me.”

“I do. I promise I do, baby. I just lost my head for a minute there. You mean everything to me.”

“Okay,” he conceded after a minute, “Just keep your head in the game, alright? Stick with me. We’re good.” Terry’s habit of framing their relationship in sports terms never failed to make her smile.

"You got it, coach," she teased, then added playfully, "Oh wait—Sir, yes sir," as she offered a mock salute.

“You always know just how to push my buttons, don’t you?”, he asked. “That’s alright, though, because you’re still under my command, recruit.” He delivered a series of sharp smacks to her behind without warning. Riley gasped as she felt the sting of each slap. 

"Terry, stop," she protested, trying to push him away, but he was unyielding.

“Nah, baby,” he whispered against her lips, staring her directly in the eyes, “You got a little too bold and need a reminder of who’s running things.”

Her stomach flipped as she realized what was happening. She had been getting more mouthy as the day went on, testing how far she could go. Now it was time for Terry to put her in her place, and while that was always fun, she knew he wouldn’t go easy on her.

As if reading her mind, Terry pulled back slightly, his gaze fierce and focused. "You know I love you, baby," he uttered softly. “But sometimes, a firm hand is needed to keep us in line.”

She nodded, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. A spanking hadn’t been a part of her agenda for the day. All she wanted was to come home, have him in their bed,  and make up for lost time, then pretend to watch TV for a little before she rode him to oblivion. But she had ruined that by being impatient. She knew that Terry was right – she had crossed a line today, and this was exactly what she needed.

Taking a deep breath, she eased into him, allowing him to maneuver her over his lap as he repositioned them on the couch. The muted sounds of the TV faded into the background as they got comfortable, her shorts rustling quietly as he pulled them down to her ankles. 

“I get that you’re used to having things your way, but that ain't how it works with me,” Terry advised, palming her ass cheeks in each hand. He took his time jiggling the fat there before his hand came down on one side and then the other. Terry was heavy handed, making sure she felt him deep in her soul. She hissed, already reaching back to cover her bottom. 

"Gimme your hands," he ordered, locking both of them in one of his own.

Terry started spanking her in earnest, and Riley felt every bit of it— the sharp sting as his hand met her skin, the heat radiating across her backside, and the firm pressure of his arms keeping her steady. 

“I’m so sorry,” She whined, squirming in his lap. “I didn't mean it!” He took a breath, grabbed her chin, and locked his gaze on her to make sure she heard him loud and clear. “I know you didn’t plan for this, but you still deserve this punishment. You gotta do better, ma.”

He went back to smacking her ass all wild, hitting it from every possible angle. “Fuck!” She cursed, getting lost in the pain and the pleasure. If the folks at church knew she had a mouth like this, she'd be too embarrassed to show her face again. With each smack, her thoughts become increasingly scrambled, swirling in a delicious haze. It didn’t help that Terry was talking her through it the entire time. 

“Remember I’m doing this because I love you.”

“You need to find some middle ground before you take things to the next level. You understand me?”

“Stay exactly like that, don’t move.”

“I know it hurts. It’s supposed to.”

“Here, grab this pillow.”

She moaned and groaned her protests but Terry was too strong and she had earned this ass whooping. She knew there was nothing left to do but surrender. Terry had her and she could let go of all her worries and concerns. She just needed to ride it out. 

As the spanking continued, Riley’s breathing grew more ragged until she was breathless. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. She apologized fervently each time his hand came down on her ass, sobbing when he gave her a small reprieve, rubbing her lower back gently. “You’re okay. We’re almost done. Are you really as sorry as you’re claiming?”

“Yes, Daddy,” She whimpered, already imagining how sore she’d be the next day, hobbling into her good government job with a bruised backside. She had bit off way more than she could chew and now needed his mercy.

“Repeat after me,” Terry commanded, his tone leaving room for argument. “Say ‘I’ll be a good girl and listen.’” She immediately complied, her voice shaky but sincere as she echoed his words, fully embracing the promise behind them. “I understand that the next time I do it, Daddy is going to spank my disobedient ass all over again..” She repeated his words like a well-trained parrot, and at the moment, it was all she could manage.

She felt lightheaded by the time Terry finished spanking her, and she couldn’t recall the last thing he’d said. She had hit her breaking point.  

She laid there for several minutes, completely spaced out, and focused only on catching her breath. Terry massaged her scalp with his fingertips as they both came down from the natural high of their chemistry. Eventually, Terry lifted her up to meet his gaze, being mindful not to agitate her already bruised bottom.

“You good?” 

Her head was still reeling. She wanted to shrink into a little ball, but she also wanted to live in his skin. How could she express that to him without sounding unhinged? Terry massaged her back in gentle, calming circles until he sensed her start to unravel. She eventually nodded slowly, acknowledging that yes, she was okay— physically at least, even if her emotions were still in a disarray. 

“I’ll do better,” she promised, her voice barely above a whisper, thick with exhaustion.

"That’s my good girl," he said, gently wiping away tears from her cheekbone as his expression softened. Despite what she might think, he didn’t get as much satisfaction from spanking her as she believed. It was just something he had to do.

“Come on, pretty. I’ll fill the tub up for you, and then we can order brunch from your favorite spot.”

Forgive me for any mistakes. I had to post this before I lost my nerve, lol. This started as something completely different but I'm happy with how it turned out. Let me know what you think! For more Terry Richmond fics by other amazing young ladies, please check out my Terry Richmond fic rec tag.

Part 2

[fattystoriez]

Preston’s 18th Birthday

Content Warning: Incest, Homophobic Slurs, Weight Gain

Preston was a normal teenage boy, except for the fact that he was adopted by a gay couple when he was born. His mother didn’t want him and he learned that some time after he was born, she died. He knew nothing about his biological father, but he never stopped looking, his dads didn’t even know who his father was. His dads were great, but Preston never stopped wondering what life would be like had he been raised by his biological father.

A couple months ago, Preston’s biological father reached out through Facebook. His profile had no pictures and seemed to be new, but he had the DNA test from when he was born to prove his relation. His name is Travis, he’s in his mid 40’s and he is a construction worker. Despite not knowing what his dad looks like, Preston started to talk with his dad more and more. His two dads suggested that he meet his father for his 18th birthday before the party, Preston thought this was a great idea and so did his dad. So they had made plans to meet, he would chat and have lunch and come back to his house for his party.

Preston’s Birthday

Preston woke up to a massive aching boner, one that was begging to be released. “Oh GOD!” He moaned loudly as he grabbed the hard on, his underwear soaked in precum. “Fuck I don’t have time to take care of this” Preston thought, “I’ll just take a shower and maybe it’ll chill out.”Preston’s cock calmed down after he took cold shower, but he could help but notice that he was still very horny. He threw on a t-shirt, a pair of briefs and some gym shorts. Preston checked his phone, it was 11:30am already, he needed to hurry or he’d be late for lunch with his dad. He went downstairs saying bye to his dads, got into his car and headed towards Travis’s place, his cock slowly leaking precum the whole way there.

Preston noticed as he was getting closer that his dad lived in a trailer park, which was fitting given he is a construction worker. He didn’t realize how nice he had it with his dads, living in a suburban home with a nice new car and electronics. Travis would barely be able to afford rent let alone all of Preston’s nice commodities. Preston knocked on the door, he heard heavy footsteps walk towards the door and it swung open to reveal Travis.

Travis was HUGE! His tight orange shirt couldn’t even cover his massive belly, and his underwear… or are they shorts??? They looked tight on his waist. His face was covered by a bushy beard, hair that the top of his head lacked. He still has some hair around the sides of his head, which only added to his grotesque appearance. “Preston!” The massive bear of a man said with a thick southern accent, he squeezed Preston in a tight hug, the contact making his cock leak some pre cum. “I’m so glad you’re finally here, I’ve been waiting to watch- I mean… see you all day!”

Travis showed Preston into the trailer, it was dingy and grimy, Travis clearly doesn’t know how to pick up after himself. Preston could tell he also didn’t smell the best, having a very distinct and vile musk that emanated from him “I’ve been excited too…” Preston noticed the massive amount of food that was over in the kitchen area. “Is that… for lunch today?” Preston was confused, there was no way two people could eat that much, even if Travis was a massive hog.

“Of course it for lunch big guy! You’re 18!” Travis said that as if Preston should know what that means, it was then that Preston felt his stomach gurgle in hunger. “But let’s start with your birthday cake, I made it special myself.” Travis walked Preston to the dining table and pulled out the most delicious cake Preston has ever seen.

“Oh you really didn’t have to do this much, there’s no way I’m eating all of this.” Preston said as he sat down, Travis cutting him a slice of cake. “Oh it chocolate, that’s actually my favorite.” Preston took a bite of the cake and it was the most delicious thing he had ever eaten in his life, it even made his cock stand back up. “Oh god… this is good!”

“I thought you might like it, made it with my own secret recipe.” Travis went behind Preston, massaging his shoulders as his son starts to pig out on the rest of the cake. “It’s a tradition for men in our family to eat like this on their 18th birthday, son.” Preston couldn’t stop himself from eating more of the cake, he couldn’t process what was going on. “When men in our family hit adulthood, we grow quickly into slobbish pigs.”

Preston was having a hard time processing the information, he couldn’t stop eating the cake long enough to worry about what was happening to him. “Oh god… daddy what’s happening to me?” Preston’s voice started to have a light souther accent that could barely be heard through the chewing.

Preston’s body started to plump up quickly, his abs from his years in track were fading away. “You can’t stop the change, son.” Travis started to feed Preston once the cake was gone, “Your faggot daddies couldn’t have prepared you for this son, they wouldn’t know what to do with a pig like you.” Preston’s head was spinning, his body getting fatter and fatter as his body gives in to his DNA.

Preston’s once smooth chest has pumped into two soft moobs that jiggled with every bite, his jawline started to fade as the fat started to accumulate. Preston was in a blissfully perverted shock as his whole life was being ruined by this pig of a man, his cock rock hard was leaking like a faucet, soaking his underwear. “Daddy… I’m getting so fat…” Preston moaned in between foods, “w-why do I sound like this daddy… w-“

“Shhhhhh” Travis shushed Preston as he shoved a greasy slice of pizza into his mouth. “You’re becoming just like your daddy, and your daddies daddy, as so on. You come from a long line of perverted hogs.” Travis gripped Preston’s cock with his other hand, “my daddy helped me out exactly like this, fattened me up real good.” Travis pumped Preston’s leaking cock as he told him how much of a pig he was going to become. “You’re gonna love it boy, you’ll be able to turn other men into fat hogs just like us. It one of our many talents, one that I can’t wait for you to use.” Preston was in a fattening bliss, listening to the hypnotic words coming out of his daddies mouth as he played with his own fattening body.

“Oh daddy… daddy I’m gonna-“ Preston released, soaking his underwear and his dad’s hand, this act of finishing sealed Preston’s already inevitable fate. “Oh god daddy, look what you’ve done to me…”

Preston’s belly was as big as his daddies, he couldn’t stop jiggling the soft flesh that had taken over his body. “I didn’t do nothin’ boy, this was your natural calling.” Travis took a doughnut, wiped Preston’s cum into it and fed it to his son.

After Preston was done chewing his specially glazed doughnut he wondered who he could make into a fat piggy himself, the he thought of his faggoty dads. “Let’s go visit my dads, daddy!”

“Of course boy, those faggots are gonna piss their pants when they see how big you’ve grown.” Travis helped Preston up and walked his half-naked fat ass to Travis’s pickup truck, the two whales could barely fit in it together. “We’ve got a party to get to, boy.”

Part 2?

[toxycodone]

hey so what if. curly thought that his favourite crewmate was at least a little experienced and then found out that they actually haven't even kissed before. like maybe if he overheard daisuke making fun of them for it. what then 👁️

ship. captain grant mccurley x reader

content. power imbalance, curly calls you kiddo but you aren’t his kid

“You’ve really never kissed anyone before?”

This was not the type of late night conversation you expected to be having with your fucking boss, but alas, the stars aligned and hexed you stupid, it seems. Curly’s blue eyes practically glow despite the dim lighting in the common room, peering at you with gentle amusement.

You shift in your seat. Suddenly the couch isn’t comfortable anymore.

“No…being on hauls back to back doesn’t give me much time to date and stuff…”

You answer, scrambling for any sort of excuse. It’s genuinely embarrassing. Why has someone your age never kissed anyone yet? Ridiculous. Now Curly probably really thinks you’re some fucking kid.

“I know, it’s weird. Daisuke already made fun of me enough, so please…just drop it.”

The blonde chuckles—deep and gravely as it rolls in his chest. He’s an insomniac, but he still gets that sexy ‘just woke up’ tone this late in the evening.

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed. It’s cute, really. Someone your age still being so pure…that’s rare.”

That familiar feeling of heat starts to burn your cheeks. Oh God. It’s not just from embarrassment anymore. Curly finding it cute…it makes you wanna explode.

“Seriously? You don’t think I’m, like, weird?”

Of course he wouldn’t. Curly’s your captain. Confidant. Friend. At least that’s what he’s made himself out to be. This pseudo-fatherly figure that you can always rely on. The one that’s there for you. Takes care of you.

He shakes his head.

“Not at all.”

His hand’s on your knee.

“Were you waiting for someone special? I mean, a first kiss is a big milestone,”

It’s moving up your thigh. You don’t question it. It’s Curly. He can touch you like this. He doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s comforting you.

You consider his question. Were you waiting for someone special? Or had you been so consumed in work you just never had the time to grow outside of pursuing your career? It’s probably a mix of both. Curly’s been at this job for over a decade, yet he’s definitely managed to kiss a plethora of people. And with a body like that, you bet he even has quite a few notches on his bedpost too.

Would he want to add another?

That thought’s admonished when he gives the fat of your thigh a squeeze. You swallow, but your throat’s dry.

“I mean…I guess.” His gaze pierces through you, causing a shiver to run down your spine. The boring screen full of stars is now quite interesting.

“I just, I don’t know, I—“

“I can show you how to kiss.” It’s offered as casually as a handshake. “So you know what to do when you find the right one.”

This isn’t something a captain should offer his subordinate. Nevertheless, one that affectionately refers to you as kiddo. You’ve called him dad before, either on accident or on purpose—that you aren’t sure. There’s layers of nuance to this situation that makes it inherently wrong. But it’s dangled in front of you like a treat.

“Really…?”

Obedient as ever, you take it despite the risks.

Aren’t you well trained?

But what else is he for? If not to teach you, his favorite crewmate, his sweet little kiddo, everything they need to know to succeed?

“Of course.” The hint of Southern drawl in his sultry tone is enough to rid your inhibitions. You’re drawn to the soft, pink curve of his lip as he leans forward. Your chin’s gently cradled by his index finger and thumb, the callouses on them now hyperaware to your senses.

“It’s easy.” His eyes lock on yours. “You just close your eyes, then pucker your lips.”

You try to follow these instructions, prompting a laugh from Curly.

“Cute. But try to relax, okay?”

It’s hard. You feel his breath on your lips, and it makes you shake like a leaf. He’s so close to you that you can feel the heat radiating off his body.

Curly’s lips touch yours. It’s soft. For such a large, imposing man, the kiss is chaste and sweet. There’s so much care put into the gesture, a testament to Curly’s personality. A shock runs through you, but you find yourself easing into the kiss and relaxing.

His other hand, the one not perched on your thigh and kneading the flesh, moves to cradle the back of your head. This feels like a fantasy. How you’d imagine a leading man would kiss the object of his desire. So much passion exists in such a tiny gesture, your heart feels like it’s going to pop in your chest.

And then, it’s over. When his body moves from yours, you still feel in a daze. Your heavy eyelids open slowly to be met with Curly’s half-lidded ones. He’s close enough you could count his golden lashes if you wanted.

“See? Nothin’ to it, right?”

Curly’s beaming. And even more obnoxiously, the simulated moonlight is highlighting his masculine features in all the right areas. You’re starting to feel dizzy.

Curly’s thumb graces your bottom lip.

“With a little more practice, you’re sure to be a natural.”

How could you say no?

[gimmebackmyskeeball]

Just friends? Fuck no.

author’s note: I love enemy!jj and I’m a hoe for an enemies you lover arc but I just want me a flirty best friend jj so bad so I had to write his headcanons (?). I don’t even know what this is actually. There’s hc and small little blurbs all together so it’s definitely a little longer than a blurb but not a one shot either. I’m confused but I hope ur not. Enjoy!

summary: just some hc(?) about best friend!jj !!

pairing: best friend!jj maybank x pogue!reader

First of all, you can’t convince me that this man isn’t clingy with his best friend. And honestly not just with you and Kie but with Jb and Pope too. So picture this, divorced parents, your dad lives in another country with his new wife and your mom lives with your sister whilst you stay in the château. Your best friend John B offered you a room after his father made it clear that he wasn’t going to be back soon if never. So now you’re practically living in the château, stopping by your own house to check on your mom and your sister every couple of days. That also means you’re practically living in the same house with the one and only Jj Maybank.

At that point you were familiar with the lines such as; “How can you wake up that early? What’s the deal with that?” or “Dude, open the door! I don’t care that you’re changing, I left my lighter in there!” He would wake up in the spare room with his messy hair and in his John B’s shorts. No shirt, obviously. He has to show off those muscles. “Yeah, you know, this is what happens when you’re god’s favorite.” He act’s like this is totally from his genes and just basically from carrying stuff to help his dad and shit but his dirty little secret is that he works out for it. Not a lot but enough to keep him in shape.

He’d walk around the château looking for some kind of food, any kind. He’d see Jb standing in the hallway, fresh out of shower, hair wet, of course he wouldn’t miss the chance to make some kinda flirty comment. “Hey, Jb. Morning shower? Too bad, wish you had invited me.” John would scoff, rolling his eyes, “Stop saying shit like that, Jj.” But Jj being the Jj he is, of course he wouldn’t stop. “Cmon gimme a hug, babe.” “Get away from me.”

“Don’t be shy.” He’d playfully caress his shoulder, with a smile on his face. “I’m literally throwing up in my mouth.” John took a step back, replicating gagging noises. “Cmon, John B. Don’t hide the infamous John D from me.” The brunette boy would pick up a pillow from the couch, shoving it right in the middle of his face before speaking, “Dude, you creep me the fuck out.” In that moment you’d walk in door from the porch, you’d woke up early to enjoy to morning breeze because you knew you’d be burning and melting and suffering thanks to Jb who kept putting off getting his AC fixed. “There she is! Hey, peach.” he’d say smiling, walking over to you before grabbing your face and giving your cheek multiple wet sloppy kisses.

“Gross.” you’d mumble. You’re tripping if you think this boy wouldn’t call you some kinda cheesy lame nickname like ‘peach’ or ‘sugar’ or ‘cupcake’ that’s suddenly music to your ears when he says it with that crooked southern accent of his. “Okay, rude. You lookin’ mad cute today. Don’t wanna kiss?” you pushed his face away, not able to stop the smile growing on your face.

Since when did you pushed him? You made the blonde mad. He’d wrap his arms around your neck, placing his head on top of yours. He’d pull you towards him until your back was completely leaning against his chest. He was heavy, you had to give him that. He was hot too. Not that way. I mean, yes, that way, he was hot, everyone knew that, including him. But he was the type of guys whose body heat was always high. The heat from how he wraps his arms around you, hot. He’s hot. In every way, shape or form. “Jay, get off! You’re hot!” He’d raise an eyebrow, pretending to be impressed by your sudden compliment that he knew was not a compliment, “Oh, I’m aware. But too bad I’m not gonna get off of ya.”

Definitely the kind of guy that would get offended if you told someone he wasn’t your boyfriend, “No partners over! This is my house and y’all are using it as a motel six!” John yelled to Kiara who had just been walked in by the owner of that very house. “That’s not fair! These two stay here all the time!” Kiara bit back, pointing at you and JJ. You crossed your arms over your chest, furrowing your brows, “What does that even mean?” Kiara sighed, “It means that boyfriend and girlfriends do stay here together and that I’m allowed to too!” you gave her a disgusted look, okay, to be completely honest, it was kinda cute she said that but you couldn’t act like you find it cute. Obviously. “We are not!” you whined. Jj shot you a look, “I mean, you don’t have to say it like that…” he frowned. The man actually frowned.

“Huh?” you were genuinely confused, was he upset? “You didn’t had to sound so aggressive about it…”

Sometimes he’d come up to you in the middle of the night, tv noises coming from the living room, meaning Jb wasn’t asleep either. “Peach?” you saw his figure on your doorstep, “Yeah, Jay?” you sat up on your bed. “I can’t sleep.” he walked over to you, sitting on your bed. “Why?”

He pouted, “Hot.” Oh how the tables have turned, “Thank you.” you spoke as he’d grin, scooting over more to your side. “I always appreciate a self aware girl.” “Okay, back off playboy.”

You scooted back, closer to the head of your bed now. “I’m just being honest.” he kept moving to get closer to you as much as he can. “Well, keep your honest ass over there.” you gently pushed his knee, trying with everything you have in you to keep your distance.

Sometimes you’d wonder if you were really only best friends. You knew how you felt about him but this is how he was with everybody, so he was ridiculously confusing. All the long weed sessions in the Twinkie, the way he’d beg to be the one rubbing your sunscreen, how he’d get visibly happy every time you’d pick him to sit next to on the couch. He is cheesy. And he isn’t embarrassed of it. If anything he knows he’s cheesy and I feel like he’s proud of it.

He’d yawn and gently stretch his arms, one of them slowly going over your shoulders and he’d end up caressing your arm. You know what he’s doing, he knows you know what he’s doing. Is he ever going to stop? No one knows. The way he’d rest his hands (definitely and totally not gripping them like you’re gonna jump off the bike and run away) on your thighs on red lights whenever you’re on his bike for him to drop you off for you to see your mom.

How he’d wrap his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder despite your whines about how you want him off of you. It’s just him, it’s just Jj Maybank and you don’t know if he’ll change or not. Not that you want him to, anyway.

[mr2swap]

Stepdad and son time

-Calm down old man, A cigarette won't ruin “My” body-

My stepfather Steve smiled confidently at me and then flexed his huge arms just to reinforce his point.

-I even think they are a little bigger than the last time you saw them, right Steve?-

Despite being outdoors the powerful aroma that came from the smoke reached my nose, that aroma was so familiar, but at the same time it was different I could remember the taste, however I had never tasted one. It was the old and dry lips of my stepfather, those Who remembered the delicious and soothing taste of that horrible habit.

-Oh! How rude I have been... Do you want any of this?? -

Steve took a couple of steps towards me and held the cigarette towards my face, the same face he had left behind 3 years ago. I'm not sure how he did it, but I have no doubt that he is to blame for what I now look like. As an overweight, middle-aged Southern man, I couldn't resist the soothing taste of a good cigarette.

Suddenly my mind relaxed and all the hatred I felt for the guy who had ruined my life vanished. Steve looks as damn happy and confident as the last time I saw him. We continue fishing, drinking and talking as if we were really a couple. Stepfather and his son having a good time, son of a bitch…

When I lived with my mom, he and I never got along well, sometimes we went days without talking even if our room was only a couple of meters away. To me, Steve was just a lazy idiot who was lucky to find someone like my mom.

Although my mom tried to get us closer multiple times, she didn't succeed, Steve and I were very different. I used to be a sports fan, I spent time with my friends playing all day or sweating in the gym, but all that changed when I turned 21 years old, Steve suddenly began to take an interest in my life in a somewhat obsessive way. He started watching the videos I posted about my workouts on Instagram and looking at my friends' profiles.

But the most obvious proof that he was the cause of all this was that just a week after we "mysteriously" woke up in the other's body, Steve left the house in the middle of the night with my motorcycle, the selfish bastard. The only thing he left me was his social security number and a small message:

“I'm sorry that we couldn't find out what caused us to exchange our bodies, but I think we should both continue with our lives. Take care of your mother and don't worry... I'll go visit.”

Since that day my life has been shit, I don't know what the fuck he did to me, but since that day I've had to fight every day with that little voice in my head That makes me act like an idiot, Sometimes and all I can think about is How damn hot it is in the house and how good I could use a six-pack of beer. I guess he thought he would do me a favor by doing that to me to blend in more, or maybe I'm just his trash can where he dumped his shitty habits including his taste in women and Susan, my mother.

Every night before I go to sleep I try to be so fucking drunk that I forget what I do at night with my own mother and when I can't get my mother to give me money for the beers I masturbate furiously in the bathroom to relieve my desire for the disgusting sex with mom

If you're still horny and want to read more of my m2m bodyswap stories, subscribe to my Ko-fi I have over 250 stories in my archives

[roboticchibitan]

Please tell me about the bees

Oh no you have activated my trap card

Honeybee facts:

Honeybees are native to Eurasia and are not naturally found in North America. There are stingless bees in south America and Mexico that produce honey but they are a different taxonomic class than honeybees

The way you check for varroa mites (a parasite common with honeybees) is absolutely hilarious to me. You take a half a cup of bees (scooped with a measuring cup, which is hilarious) and put them in a jar. Then dump a bunch of powdered sugar in the jar. Then you cover the jar with a screen. And then. You just. Shake the jar a bunch until the bees are covered in powdered sugar. Then you turn the jar upside down and shake out the powdered sugar and look for mites in it. If you have more than 5 you have and infestation. Bees. Shaken, not stirred. It doesn't hurt the bees and you just put them back in the hive and the other bees eat the sugar on them. They're fine. But the mental image of shaking a jar full of bees and powdered sugar is just so funny.

Importing honeybees into the US is illegal so a while back researchers at WSUs bee lab went overseas to collect bee semen so they can breed calmer more disease resistant honeybees. I desperately wish I could find the article I read about it because the photo in it of a tiny vial of bee semen was also hilarious

Honeybees can get jet lag. They ran an experiment where they flew European bees to north America and the bees woke up for the day on European time

Cursed honeybee facts

Bees have hair growing out of their eyes

When a male bee mates his testicles explode and he dies. He came and went

In preparation for winter the worker bees kick all the drones out of the hive and then seal up the hive with propolis and leave the drones to die in the cold

Bumblebee facts

You can teach bumblebees to do tricks. They did a study in the UK where they rewarded bees for pushing a ball into a hole and then tested to see if the bees could teach other bees and they could! (You can download videos of bees doing tricks from that link btw. You're welcome)

There are no bumblebees south of the Sahara or in Australia because it's too hot for them. The only bumblebees native to the southern hemisphere are in south America.

They think bumblebees evolved in the mountains of central Asia and that's where the biggest diversity of bumblebee species is

There was a bumblebee native to where I was born called Franklin's Bumblebee that is thought to be extinct, but people still go up into the mountains looking for them and they are my favorite bee and I have a tattoo of one because I think that says a lot about humanity's capacity for hope. And they COULD still be out there. We've found "extinct" bees out there living their best little bee lived before!! (Here's the tattoo)

Random other bee facts

There's a bee native to the southwestern US and northern Mexico called the sunflower chimney bee and they're called that because they feed off composite flowers like sunflowers and build little mud tunnels as entrances to their nests in the ground. No one knows why they do that! But I think they're neat!!!

There's bees native to the southwestern US desert that have evolved to have body temps of 103°F/39°C

Most bees do not live in social colonies like honeybees do. Most bees are solitary, meaning each female makes her own nest and lays her own eggs. Tho some solitary bees will nest very near each other

We are learning that bees native to north America like blue orchard bees and blueberry Mason bees are more effective crop pollinators than honeybees, especially for early spring crops when it's still too cold for honeybees to be out and about.

This has been bee info dump time with V. Tune in next time and I'll talk about blue bees!

[tcfactory]

Please imagine:

For whatever reason, someone at CQMS puts their foot down that Luo Binghe can't marry Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu if he's not human. Either Binghe needs to be human or Shen Qingqiu needs to leave the sect, there's no ifs or buts. It could be motivated by any number of things - political reasons, worry that Binghe is manipulating SQQ with the heavenly demon blood, digging up some ancient precedent out of jealous, it doesn't matter.

Binghe, who doesn't really get much out of being half-demon and he's the protagonist anyway, he'll be fine, decides that he can't jeopardize his shizun's comfortable life (oh, he would steal him away in a heartbeat if he thought that would make SQQ happy, but after careful observation he has come to the conclusion that SQQ's happiness does indeed require the comfort of the mountain, the presence of Shang Qinghua who can be dubiously dubbed as shizun's 'friend' and regular interaction with young disciples for shizun to dote on. Other benefits include regular opportunities for Binghe to demonstrate what a Good Boy and Perfect Disciple and Doting Husband he is, which somewhat offsets the significant drawback of Binghe's constant insecurity and jealousy...) and goes to find a way to turn human.

Being the protagonist, he finds a way to turn human almost right away. The only downside is that once the method is used, there is no way to undo it, which is not really a downside in his eyes, but his shizun has instructed him at length about taking something that looks too good to be true at face value, so he decides to test it on someone. Not just anyone would do, they have to be at least somewhat in the same ballpark of power as he is, but isn't it fortunate that he knows someone else who is also courting a Peak Lord and qualifies? :)

So he goes and turns Mobei-jun human, as a test. Mobei should be grateful to him, this way he can go and marry that pathetic An Ding Lord of his without anything getting in the way! Thus, having verified that the method has no side effects or unexpected downsides, Luo Binghe turns human, marries Shen Qingqiu and then takes him on a long and incredibly pleasant honeymoon that lasts for years if not decades because immortal cultivators have a shit sense of time and he's just so so happy that nobody can protests their marriage anymore.

This idea is not really about Luo Binghe.

This idea is about Mobei-jun.

Mobei-jun who, following Shang Qinghua's advice and the long, step-by-step plan laid out for him, could have married his human anyway, because he's not the protagonist and the universe doesn't want to cause him extra drama as such. Mobei-jun who didn't want to become human, didn't need to and is now in a decidedly horrible situation because Luo Binghe didn't even think to ask him if he wanted this or not. Mobei-jun who is now weak and uprooted from his culture and home and has to learn human cultivation and form a golden core really fucking quickly before he dies.

Because there is no way to undo this. Mobei-jun is now human and he will be human until the day he dies.

So while Binghe and his shizun are off on their happy honeymoon, everyone else gets to deal with the effects of his actions. The Southern Demon Kingdom falling into chaos after Binghe leaves until someone tracks down Tianlang-jun and begs him to come back and sort things out. The Northern Demon Kingdom experiencing an incredibly confusing takeover because everyone assumes Linguang-jun finally managed to assassinate his nephew, which he did NOT do. He simply woke up one day with the ancestral power filling him to the brim for no reason that he could discern, so he's very spooked by Mobei's sudden disappearance.

He's only marginally less spooked when he discovers his nephew in CQMS, weakened and human and miserable. If there is one good thing in this horror show it's that MBJ and LGJ finally make up, because now that they are no longer rivals for the throne that means the only thing they are is family; as head of the clan LGJ is responsible for the wellbeing of his direct relatives and MBJ is too depressed to fight with his uncle whenever LGJ shows up to force some unwanted help on him. Besides, LGJ is honestly outraged by the insult LBH committed against his nephew and clan. (If the occasional northern assassin shows up in the rotating list of bandits and demons and other minor obstacles that Binghe cheerfully eradicates on the daily to show off to his shizun, well... they don't achieve much of anything, they can't with the protagonist halo active, but it's the thought that counts.)

Are the Peak Lords unsettled by LGJ's frequent visits? Maybe a little. Or a lot. But they are honorable people who can't really deny that they are indirectly responsible for MBJ's predicament and the rules technically permit a disciple's family members to visit, even when the person in question is technically just a guest disciple and said family member is the ruling king of the Northern Demon Kingdom.

If Yue Qingyuan stars developing a friendly rapport with Linguang-jun - who is sharp and unpleasant, scrappy and crafty and if YQY has a type then LGJ ticks off altogether too many boxes - that is turning into something more serious at an alarming rate, then it's between the two of them and Mu Qingfang doesn't get paid enough to really question why YQY suddenly developed an interest in medical techniques that allow one to freely manipulate their body temperature and withstand incredible cold.

At least MoShang are doing... not fine, not really, because MBJ is a mess and he has been hurt by this whole scenario in ways he didn't expect and could never articulate even if he tried to put it into words, but they are there and they are together. And they will get through it together, because Airplane isn't the author god for nothing, he will find a way to keep his favorite character safe and make him happy.

If one day BingQiu show up again, SQQ's homesickness having grown stronger that his curiosity about the world, they will find the atmosphere of the mountain somewhat... changed. To their shock, LBH has been banned from... most other peaks, actually. Most of the ones that matter anyway, except for case-by-case exceptions. He's not welcome on An Ding, for obvious reasons, nor Wan Jian, because MBJ has discovered an affinity for smithing (the System has a sense of humor sometimes) and Wei Qingwei will not tolerate Binghe stressing out his new favorite apprentice. He is not technically banned from Bai Zhan (although he's no more welcome there than he was before) or Qian Cao (nobody is banned from the medicine peak, because bans lead to people being stupid and not seeking help when they need it), but he is discouraged from visiting unless he has business there. They never really find out if he's banned from Qiong Ding or not, as such, but YQY can smile at someone with perfect hospitality and politeness and still make them feel so uncomfortable they wish they could claw their skin clean off, so he avoids the peak anyway.

It's fine. He didn't need them anyway and SQQ is still welcome to go wherever he pleases (even if the reception might be less warm than it used to be after he vehemently argues in defense of Binghe's actions) so this is nothing more than a slight bit of annoyance.

It still rankles a little when neither he nor SQQ are invited to the MoShang wedding, because shizun and SQH get in a huge explosive argument just before the invitations are distributed ("Just one apology, Cucumber-bro! He put Mobei through hell with what he'd done, get him to apologize at least once!" "What hell, you hack author?! You are so happy together I can't stand to look at you. Binghe doesn't owe you anything, especially not an apology!") but it's fine.

Binghe is happy and his shizun is happy. That is all that matters.

[devilish-blue]

eyeless jack and or hoodie somno ? or what it’s like dating them with a nsfw part 🙏🙏 we’re thirsting rn

Oh my God. This took so long for me to do mainly because i procrastinated, but whatever. Anyways! I absolutely loved this idea and just had to do it! So i hope you like it.

!!Headcannons!!

!!TW!!: Somnophilia, mentions of other various kinks, mentions of Mean! Jack, cunnilingus. Let me know if i missed any!!)

Brian/Hoodie:

Now, to start, there is a big difference in Brian and Hoodie. Brian is well, Brian. I like to think of him as a big southern teddy bear. While it might be unpopular, I don’t really care. Hoodie, on the other hand, is ruthless, and mean. He doesn’t really seem to care all that much. So how would dating them be?

Brian, like I said, is a big ol’ teddy bear when it comes to you. He adores you and loves to spoil you with bear hugs and smothering you in kisses. Not to mention, he bulks, so not only does he have muscle, he has a big build making him huge compared to you. Perfect for being choked by his bicep- I mean, who said that?

Moving on, we have Hoodie. Now Hoodie is a killer, a cold killer who doesn’t seem to care. Thankfully the only times you really see Hoodie is when he gets home from a mission and Brian hasn’t regained control yet. During these times he usually tries to stay away from you. Maybe it’s because Brian doesn’t want Hoodie to hurt you so he might still be the tiniest bit in control.

However, sometimes you can’t help but need to be near your boyfriend, so even when Hoodie was Hoodie you’d still come up to him and hug him, but he would just stand there or put his hands on your hips.

Onto hornier details, kinks. Brian might seem like a vanilla guy at first glance, but he’s most definitely not. Does he like Somno? Yes. At first, he hated the thought of taking advantage of you while you were sleeping, but when you said you were into it? He tried it the following night and he fell in LOVE with it. The sight of you shaking and whimpering in your sleep only to wake up with Brian’s thick cock in your hole? Hooked.

Of course there’s other kinks, choking, degrading, dirty talking, pet names, etc. But there is just a special place in his heart for Somno and knife play. But that’s for a different time. ;p

Does Hoodie like Somno? Is that even a question? Of course he does! He loves to get home from long missions and walk in your room and to find you sleeping. Because that means he can use your body and not have to hear you complain about how tired you are as he fucks you.

He also has other kinks, choking, impact play, knife play, blood play, even some BDSM, but it's not often that you screw Hoodie anyway so you’ll be healed by next time. ;p

Eyeless Jack:

Oh Anon, don’t I have a treat for you. Jack was a big, intimidating guy, he’s a demon after all. But he’s sweet. Most of the time. Most of the time he’s a big affection, and loving boyfriend, but other times, he’s the opposite. He’s cruel and distant. He even sometimes insults you, but you know he doesn’t really mean it. Right?

But after these little spurts of hate, he apologizes, gives you cuddles, hugs and kisses but if you go to bed angry? He doesn’t like that because he knows he made you mad, so he likes to give you a nice surprise.

He had always thought about fucking you while you were sleeping, but now he had a reason. So there he was under the blanket in between your legs licking your aching and dripping hole. He was happening you would wake up in a panicked and blissful mess and that’s exactly what you were. You woke up and you felt hot and a wet sensation on your lower half. You looked down in a panic but that panic was soon taken over by relief and then ecstasy as your body trembled and convulsed as you came. Who knew three tongues could feel so good?

[kedsandtubesocks]

your heart, a sonnet

Author!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: you discover there’s more to your boyfriend than you realize

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, surprise hidden identity reveal, grumpy but soft!Joel who has a secret love language of writing and love letters, mentions of unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Joel is older & in his 50’s), light discussion of reader and Joel’s insecurities, reader is addressed as darlin/honey/baby, a few spicy moments where Joel gets handsy

word count: 5.3k

a/n: I know, I know… this doesn’t seem like the typical Joel fic but i blame Pedro’s look at the Hollywood star walk of fame ceremony because it immediately made me think ‘oh that’s Joel’ and now here we are lol I couldn’t have done this without my forever babe @the-wild-wolves-around-you and i can’t thank her enough along with @ahauntedcowboy for always letting me scream about all my wild ideas, and now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡

You first met Joel at a bookstore.

The weekend after your birthday you went in to treat yourself and wandered into the records section of the store. As you flipped through the selections, the sudden sight of a Fleetwood Mac album had you inhaling sharply in surprise.

“S’good one.” That’s when the sudden smooth drawl of a southern accent floated out to you.

A few steps beside you stood an absolutely gorgeous man. The evergreen plaid button up shirt he wore flattered him as if it was made to be only worn by him. Rugged and distinguished, he seemed like a romance hero plucked straight out from one of the books among the shelves. You even blinked a few times wondering if he was real.

“If you don’t take it, might have to fight ya for it.” Even with his gruff low voice, an underlying teasing nature radiated friendly and light.

Now, many months later, a piece of you believes you might have fallen for him right then and there.

Joel is a rare beautiful soul of a man. He’s strong and a bit rough around the edges. He used to work as a contractor, even managed to build a very reputable business with his brother. His hard work remains effortlessly etched into his hands that now type editing books, his current job. He’s kind, so deeply loyal and loves fiercely.

With a yawn, you slip out of bed to pull on his cozy Texas longhorn shirt.

Heading downstairs, you walk among the clouds.

Instead of working at his office desk, Joel sits at the dining table typing away. Just seeing him wear his reading glasses sends a delicious desire trickling through you like a soft rain.

His dark earth eyes flicker up over the edge of his laptop and his gaze softens.

“Was wonderin’ when you were gonna wake up.” His wonderfully smooth as molasses voice makes you want to get caught up in its sticky sweetness.

“It’s not even that late. You’re one who woke up wanting to get work done on a Saturday.” You scoff playfully yet press your lips to his, a soft good morning greeting.

“Besides…who’s the reason I slept in so soundly, hm?” You smile against Joel’s lips that now twitch with a smirk.

His large warm hand slowly creeps up against your bare leg and rubs soft against your skin. After a few sleepy kisses, Joel’s tongue smoothly slips into your mouth trying to now consume you with a syrupy heat.

Joel pulls you down onto his lap. Your hands run up his chest to his cherub curly gray hair. His lips leave yours to start nipping at your jaw.

“What happened to working, cowboy?” You sigh softly.

“Come keep me company, darlin’.” He breathes out and any hope of maybe making breakfast is happily forgotten.

The rest of the morning unfolds at a nebulous pace you bask in.

When a late brunch is finished and you start cleaning up the kitchen, Joel’s warm solid hands map out your hips with other plans in mind. He slides behind you, a towering comfort that you lean back against.

“You’re extra handsy today Mr. Miller.” You tease.

“I can stop?” Joel offers while his scruffy beard scrapes a path against your skin. Against you, his broad shoulders, his wonderfully built frame, wraps you in his protective cover.

You hum a content no and move your hands over his now.

“Just wanna enjoy being with ya before I get busy.” Joel mutters while his hand slides down your cozy lounge shorts.

You had forgotten about his upcoming work plans.

You already want to mourn the impending weekend without him, but that can wait for another day. Especially when his thick fingers delicately, so sinfully, run up and down your underwear playfully touching you.

But then that weekend arrives and it brings a hollowness.

Lounging on the couch back at the apartment you share with your best friend, you force yourself not to text Joel again. He’s busy and you know this. So you vow to hold all your yearning and longing chained inside like a Jane Austen heroine.

“Are you done sulking?” Your best friend teases from the kitchen and you glare at her from the couch.

“I get it, being awake from your hunky handsome older boyfriend is hard. What will you ever do?” She snickers playfully. You’re tempted to throw the nearby couch pillows at her.

“What did you say his job was?” She asks.

“He used to be a contractor, but now he’s a book editor.” You answer.

“A hardworking hot Texas cowboy who reads and is a good man? Yeah, keep him locked up.” Your best snorts and you understand exactly what she means.

Fanged temptation claws at you more to text him again. Joel promised he would call you tonight and you don’t doubt him. But you didn’t realize how badly you’d missed him.

“Alright,” your best friend declares. “No more moping! I’m dragging you out with me to that book signing I’ve been talking about.”

She’s been obsessed with this apocalyptic novel series for so long. You happily tag along and even perk up when you see how excited she gets.

“And the author is finally doing a book tour! He’s kept his identity hidden this entire time so I wanna get a chance to maybe just even see him!” Your best friend gushes the entire time she drives you both to the bookstore the signing would be held.

Just so happens it’s the same bookstore where you first met Joel. A deep surge of affection swallows you whole and you float on blissful lovesick nostalgia.

Then the impressive line already waiting outside the front doors stuns you.

“I told you! It’s a big deal! Plus the series is so good.” Your best friend exclaims. She has been trying to get you into the series for a while.

The core of it focuses on two young girls who manage to survive an apocalyptic fungal zombie outbreak. The series follows the girls growing up, the journey to live with each other, and how it slowly bonds them as sisters.

“I heard they’re trying to make a Netflix series on it.” Your friend adds hopeful.

You can’t help but snag your best friend’s book copy she also hopes will get signed. Flipping through the front pages you land to the dedication page.

“To my baby girls, this will always be for you two.”

The author must have based the series on their daughters. That’s adorable.

Now curious, you flip to the first chapter.

“After seeing the end of the world, after witnessing the carnage of life consume itself, Ellie thinks she’s seen it all.”

Your best friend's sudden excited laugh pulls you out of the book. She’s talking with the other fans in line and you decide to join in.

Everyone discusses how worth the wait will be and how most of them even purchased the newest released book to make sure they reserved a slot for the signing.

“So why’s the author finally doing a face reveal?” You ask quietly not wanting to seem too out of place.

“So apparently,” your best friend begins in her hush about to spill the good gossip voice. “Some random ass moron on Twitter came out and said they were the true author. It became a whole messy issue of who it really was.”

Your best friend goes into more detail about how even a couple of online sites had articles on it.

“That’s awful.” You sympathize with the author. It must’ve been a headache trying to enjoy the peace of anonymity only for it becoming something used against them. You can only imagine how heartbreaking it was to see others steal and take credit for your work.

Like a surprise strike of lightning, an electric excitement suddenly breaks through the air.

Glancing up, you watch the line rapidly move towards the front doors. Time to go in.

Unfortunately, the main seating for the reading and q&a fills up fast. The bookstore though manages to wrangle the remainder of the crowd that can fit on the first floor towards a section where they can watch. It’s more than enough for your best friend who’s about to burst with anticipation. The buoyant commotion in the room even pulls you into its current and you get excited to see the new surprise author.

Soon a chic handsome older looking man, the moderator of the event, scurries to the front of the gathered group.

Warmly he begins the introduction to the writer.

First, writing sweet children’s books, stories for his daughters, those works became the author’s first publications. After that he navigated apocalyptic writing and his hit series has earned critical acclaim.

“Simply known as the anonymous writer J Miller. I’ve had the greatest pleasure to know this man as both his friend and now agent and I’m beyond proud to introduce him to you. Everyone please help me in welcoming J Miller!”

The thunderous applause and screams of excitement galvanize the entire room.

Then Joel walks out from the side.

Your heart instantly leaves your body.

For a moment you think your lovesick yearning heart has you slightly projecting Joel in any man you might see.

But the minute you focus, truly watch him slide into the chair, you see him.

Soft gray grown out curls, a strong beautiful nose, the patchy beard with the spots you love to kiss, and his reading glasses - the ones he’s so self conscious about because of how they make him look “so good damn old,” yet you love how they distinguish and elevate his appearance. You even remember the first time Joel wore them while he read waiting for you.

Truth makes its way into your heart.

It’s Joel.

The famous mystery author is your Joel.

“Thanks Frank.” And when he takes the mic, thanking his agent, his slick southern sunset voice melts the crowd.

“So, uh he’s gorgeous?!” Someone behind you squeals.

“Who would’ve thought he’d be this hot?!” Someone adds.

The whispers and mummers swarm like wasps buzzing all around you and you want to swat at them.

You can’t wrap your mind around this or the amount of emotions rushing through you. You feel separated from your body, floating detached from the scene and trying to gather yourself back.

Why didn’t he tell you?

Did he not trust you?

Joel suddenly laughs at something Frank says, that gruff wonderful laugh you hear after you show him a ridiculous video or his daughters tease him. It snaps you back into awareness.

“He’s about to read a section!” Your friend giddily whispers under her breath

Now you fully focus on this man, this almost stranger.

He’s so handsome it isn’t fair. He looks like a distinguished professor and your throat tightens seeing how broad his shoulders look in the dark casual suit jacket he wears.

“One of my favorite parts.” He admits quietly. “It’s when Ellie and Sarah realize they can make it outta Pittsburgh together.”

His daughters. He named his characters after them.

Joel clears his throat and begins.

He reads the passage with a magnetic cadence. The words slip from him like the smooth drink of whiskey that lingers on your tongue. When he finishes, an ache twists in your chest.

The applause he gets is shatteringly loud. The smallest bit of pride does float through you. But confusion drowns it out.

The floor now opens to quick questions. Some are about the book itself and the certain decisions made writing wise. Others are obviously about why he stayed hidden for so long.

That one perks you up quickly.

In such typical Joel fashion, he shrugs.

“Just couldn’t figure out Twitter, s’all.”

Everyone laughs at his playful reply and you do as well, but it sounds hollow and watery.

Soon enough the last question arrives.

“Do you ever see yourself writing for any other genres? I mean, we’ve seen horror and some moments of romance in the series. So I’m just curious if you’d write anything else?!” The lady asks brightly and now you simply settle your thoughts aside to listen.

Joel chuckes, a bit breathless and his gaze drops. This entire time he’s teetered between a sly southern charm that’s hypnotized you, to being guarded almost a bit nervous.

But now a boyishly hesitant grin falls over him and it’s so familiar.

”Uh, guess romance would be the next I’d maybe try.” He answers low, bashful.

The crowd erupts into fangirl like shrieks.

“Right?! I keep saying he doesn’t know the potential he has if he became a romance writer!” Frank, who has such a bright and lovely personality, adds.

Too many emotions clash in you.

You wonder if he wants to explore romance writing because of you?

Or a much harsher voice creeps out from the back of your mind whispering maybe you’re just being used for source material.

You quickly stomp those thoughts away.

The rest of the event shifts to the signing and you walk in a sort of guided daze.

“You okay?” Your best friend asks gently, noticing your slight mood change.

You don’t have the heart to tell her the truth yet. This was something she had been looking forward to and you didn’t want to ruin her excitement or experience. So you wearily just smile and tell her your head simply started hurting.

She sympathetically nods.

“Thankfully we won’t be waiting too long.” She adds and explains how the signing would be called by groups.

“We might not have gotten seats, but we did manage to sneak into group A for the signing.” She grins proud and it lifts your spirits.

The line curls against the sides of the bookshelves blocking your view of Joel. It becomes both a blessing and a curse.

Maybe you should wait in the car for his and your sake?

However, something inside you slightly bitter, raw and wanting answers, decides to stay. Besides you, your dear friend tries to keep herself calm but you can sense her bubbling nervous energy.

“I’d be calmer if he wasn’t so damn attractive.” She hisses and a jealous flare gently rises in you.

“Just think,” you reassure her. “He’s probably just as nervous as you.”

The relieved comforted grin she gives you makes staying worth it. But then all of that flies out the window the closer and closer you get to Joel.

Petrified dread claws its way in when you realize your best friend is next in line.

“He looks kinda familiar now that we’re closer.” The casual comment your friend says makes your heart sink.

“Maybe.” You mutter.

The times Joel has been to your place your roommate, your best friend, has been either at work or sleeping. You can only think of the first instant you introduce Joel to her when he picked you up on a date.

Your eyes flicker straight to Joel.

His hair seems so perfectly curled and his dark jacket highlights his wonderful grays.

Thankfully, any discussion of who he might look like gets squashed because your best friend gets called next in line. She turns to you squeaking excitedly and you beam back bright.

Joel lifts his eyes up, like a true southern gentleman wanting to give someone his full attention.

You wait on the side and watch the interaction unfold. Joel chuckles at something your best friend says and you’re glad she’s enjoying herself.

The book signing is done so fast. In a blink, it’s finished. With her newly signed book, your friend turns to you. She makes a slightly embarrassing but endearing noise of excitement that has you laughing.

That’s when your eyes flicker over to Joel and your gaze locks with his.

Instantly, Joel’s handsome face drops. His gorgeous earth eyes widen as he immediately recognizes you. His mouth falls open slightly and a flash of something close to fear fills the depths of his eyes.

He breathes out your name on a shaky exhale.

Everything seems to slow and stop. You don’t know what to say. So all you do is weakly smile.

The fleeting moment fades. The next group in line already giggles moving towards the table.

Time’s up. Turning on your heels to leave with your friend, Joel calls out to you, calls your name.

“Wait!”

You freeze.

Glancing back at him, Joel’s eyes pin you on the spot. An unspoken heaviness hangs in his deep eyes while he stares intently at you.

“It’s okay, we’ll talk later.” By some strange possession of slight bravery, or maybe delusion, you manage to speak.

But it’s all you can say and it’s all you can do before Frank, Joel’s agent, slides in to whisper something to him.

The moment again shatters.

Your best friend however grills you the rest of the day

That’s when you pull out your phone. You show her a photo you secretly took of Joel. It’s one where he’s adorably glaring at his ipad while he tried ordering take out for dinner.

Your best friend shrieks. “He’s your boyfriend?!”

He is.

Your boyfriend, Joel, is a writer, a very famous best selling author.

And that weight yanks you under a dangerous current you can’t seem to swim against.

Even after lunch, even getting back to your apartment and trying to settle your thoughts, your emotions are still so tangled.

You mindlessly scroll through your phone for the rest of the day and a blink, you notice it’s already early evening. Your plan to stay sulking is ruined when your phone starts ringing so loud.

It’s Joel.

“Hello?” You answer as composed as you can.

“Darlin?” His beautiful rich voice sounds hesitant and guarded.

“Hi.” You reply back quietly.

“Can we talk?” He asks just as low.

You agree, expecting to have the discussion on the phone. Except a knock taps on your apartment door and scares you right out of your body.

Ever proactive, ever the man who takes action, Joel stands waiting for you when you open the door.

You’re thankful more than ever that your best friend went to the gym for the evening.

“Wanna sit outside for a bit? Maybe get some air? S’really nice outside today.” He offers gentle.

He’s breaking up with you. That’s what your mind jumps to.

At least the weather is surprisingly kind this early evening.

You’ve sat out here on your apartment’s decent sized balcony with Joel before. But now the energy between you and him shifts strangely.

The sky stretches above a soft sherbet orange. A breeze comes, thankfully not too cold, but you think about maybe heading in to grab a blanket.

Joel however quickly slings off his jacket and drapes it over you. Always the gentleman.

The smell of his cologne, so comforting and masculine, wraps around you like a cloud.

You thank him with a soft small smile and Joel nods. Then he sighs and leans forward on the folding chair.

“Always loved the outdoors.” He begins, a small olive branch of a conversation to break the tension. “The girls and I love hiking the trails out by the lake. You ever been?”

You shake your head no.

“Maybe one day we can all go together.” The comment holds hope, a delicate thread of it. Yet you catch the hesitation.

Your eyes flicker to him, confused and cautious.

“Wait, you aren’t breaking up with me?” You blurt out, maybe just wanting to get it over with. You hate the way your voice cracks slightly.

Joel, with his beautiful concerned wide eyes, snaps his face to you.

“What? Honey no. Thought maybe you’d be the one maybe tryin’ to break up with me.” Joel, who Sarah jokes about how some of their neighbors question if he’s perpetually grumpy, stares at you with a tenderness that melts you to your core.

You can’t help but laugh watery.

“Why d’ya think I’d want to end things with you?” He asks patiently.

You can think of so many.

He’s a famous writer who’s about to maybe become an online sensation. He’s older than you, wiser and seasoned. He’s a full on father with young teenage daughters.

So you reveal your heart to him and all the fears that dwell in its shadows. You wipe away a few tears that manage to spill out.

Joel moves to hold your hands in his, a guarded warmth and protection keeping you stable.

With a heavy sigh, Joel’s attention fully focused on you.

“Honey…I’m so sorry for not telling you about my work, about me, sooner.” He earnestly apologizes and his words drip with comforing earnesty.

Now his gaze drops down to where your hand sits in his.

“Didn’t want it complicatin’ things with us. I knew I had to tell you eventually. But really…I was worried you’d see me differently once you knew. I know I don’t seem like the writin’ type anyway.” He mutters and you miss the hint of embarrassment coloring his tone.

You squeeze his hands.

This could never make you look at Joel in a negative light. If anything, you now feel proud knowing he’s a writer. You do explain your worries though and the ache you felt knowing he kept his from you.

“I know darlin’ and I promise,” he squeezes your hands now. “No more secrets between us.”

“You…us…means more to me than you’ll know.” He adds and you draw his hands up to your mouth.

You kiss his worn hands, his hard working beautiful hands that now move to hold your face so tenderly in their grasp. His thumb strokes your bottom lip delicately as if you’ll disappear from his sight.

“Can I kiss ya baby?”

You nod and in that same breath Joel pulls you towards him. He kisses you light, delicate enough that you feel so precious and treasured within his hold.

It seems like such a simple small kiss but it soaks into your bones.

You have so many questions. And as much as you’d like to make out with your boyfriend on the balcony, you’d like answers.

So you pull away and stand up.

Joel looks adorable as confusion paints his face.

“Don’t worry I’m just getting us a blanket.” You grin at him as you sling on his jacket claiming it as your own.

Blanket in hand you now curl up with him in the lawn chair, thankful for its sturdiness and cozy size. Your heart soars at how quickly Joel pulls you into his arms and basically onto his lap.

It feels like it’s been months since you’ve last been with him, or maybe that’s just how exhausting today was.

Joel sighs content and pleased once you fully rest against him. Hesitantly you ask if it’s okay if you can talk about him, about his work.

“Ask away honey. I’ll tell ya everything n’ anything.” He says firm.

You grin and your thumb starts stroking the back of his hand.

“So what made you decide to reveal yourself now? I heard there was an issue about someone saying they were you?” You ask, thinking of the discussions earlier with your best friend.

“Yeah..” Joel now sighs tired with an ancient weariness that settles over his handsome face.

“Sarah was the one who saw it first on Twitter or wherever it was.” He adds with a grumble.

Your heart aches knowing one of the girls saw it first.

“Didn’t help either that I ain’t online. So it became a whole fuckin’ mess we had to deal with it a couple months back.”

A light bulb goes off inside your brain.

“Was that when you said you had to visit a family friend out of town?” You connect the dots.

“Yup.” Joel nods. “Went to visit Frank, my agent, to try and figure this shit out. Could’ve let it all maybe die down but… ya know.” He huffs and you understand completely.

Joel is too stubborn, a bit too prideful. You almost snort amused just over the thought of him trying to let the situation blow over.

“Frank wants to meet ya by the way.” Now his voice dips with a bashful tone while his hands begin softly stroking your thighs.

“I’d love to meet him too.” You truthfully tell Joel.

“So, are you going to be online now? Should I start making secret accounts to follow you?” You now tease and Joel barks a beautiful amused laugh.

“Baby, I’m over 50. The only apps I need on my phone are candy crush and ESPN. Ain’t got the time or patience for social medias.”

Now you’re the one laughing.

It feels freeing, blissful, like this is the first moment you’re spending time with him all over again. Yet, there’s a deeper sacred connection that settles.

You can’t help but kiss him again and Joel eagerly welcomes you on his lips.

Now his lips move fervently, almost possessively, against yours, licking and trying to consume you. A small moan squeaks out of you.

“Come on baby,” he mutters, shifting you against his lap so that you fully feel his hardness straining against his pants. “Wanna taste ya.”

You’re thankful you manage to drag him back inside because you can’t imagine getting intimate with Joel on the balcony. Well, at least not yet. But that was a thought for another day.

Now in the afterglow’s soft relaxing peace you wish for more time with him.

But Joel must sense that ache too.

“S’late honey. Come back home with me. Even if it’s just for the night.” He mutters against your lips and you can’t deny him. You don’t want to deny him or the aching tug pulling you to him.

That night you fully embrace every inch of the man Joel Miller is and let a dizzying adoration for him swallow you whole.

The next morning, in the soft early still dark shade of his room, Joel wakes you with a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Gotta go meet with Frank for the day. I’ll see ya later, honey.” He mutters against your cozy heated skin.

You hum a soft agreement and sleepily wish him a goodbye before falling back to sleep. After that, you wake up later to a colder and empty bed.

Tugging on another one of Joel’s shirts you head downstairs already missing his presence.

And when you get downstairs, there on the table sits the most gorgeous floral arrangement. Its beautiful vibrant blooms make your heart flutter so fast against its cage.

A folded paper sits beside the flowers. Your name is written on the front in Joel’s slightly chicken scratch like handwriting.

You scramble fast to grab it.

A letter, he’s written you a letter.

“Honey,

I know I’ve already apologized and you’ve forgiven my old undeserving ass.”

You snort at that line but continue on.

“But I just wanted to fully apologize to you again. Might take me a while until I stop, but just be patient with my old bones yeah?”

You would. Your heart would and will always wait for him.

“Doesn’t seem like it but, I aint that good at talking about things, about my feelings. Shocker right?”

You smirk. You know he isn’t good with words - that’s why it almost feels ironic and a bit unreal that he’s an author.

You’ve discovered Joel shows his affection through his actions.

He spent an entire day rearranging a business scheduling conflict just so that Tommy didn’t have to worry about it. Joel never missed a single one of Ellie’s basketball games. Sarah only prefers a certain type of orange juice and Joel never fails to only get that one.

The first few weeks you started dating Joel you got sick with a nasty cold. He dropped off a whole bag of various items like tissues and cough drops. It was then you knew his heart shines through his actions.

He sometimes surprises you with an order from your favorite take out spot. He never lets you touch a door, always opening them for you instead. He’s the most generous lover and never fails to remind you of how tender, how consuming, his passion can be.

Joel does grumble, sometimes even seems grouchy, but he loves fiercely.

And now here he is showing you this side of him, this form of himself as a writer.

So you return to reading his letter.

“I got into writing because it helped me process all my emotions, my thoughts, the good and bad days - everything. And sharing my writing with others, especially with someone as important as you, still makes me feel so vulnerable. Funny how that worked out though huh? Guess fate wanted to drag my ass and make me face my fears and vulnerability and whatnot.”

Someone as important as you - The line makes your heart flutter.

“I know I told you the reasons why I didn’t tell you. But another reason was because I was afraid.

I was afraid of how much you mean to me. Telling you about this part of me would be taking a bigger step. And it scared me shitless. Cause darlin’ I haven’t felt this way in a very long time. Like, as Ellie loves to say, in such a long time that ‘dinosaurs weren’t even fossils.’

That makes you laugh a bit watery but you let his words carry you again.

“You make my damn heart race when you smile. I get so worked up just seeing you walk around my house as if you were always meant to be here. And I didn't want to lose that either. I still don’t.

You feel like a bright future, like waking up after a cloudy week and the sun greets you so nicely. And I just wanna stay in that warmth, your warmth.

Yeah sorry, that line might be too romance novel writer for my league…but like I said I’m thinking about it. And it’s because of you.

We said no more secrets yeah?

So I’m not lying when I say you’ve become so god damn important to me. And I wanna see more days with you, as many as you’ll have with me.

Fuck. This damn letter already feels too long and I hate my old ass for rambling and maybe not making sense. But I adore you honey. Plain in simple.

And I’m just gonna leave it at that.

Don’t miss me too much and I’ll see you soon.

P.S I picked that bookstore as the tour’s first stop here because it’s where I met you… and I’ll always be grateful for that

-Joel”

You now fight back an absolute ocean’s worth of adoration for this man.

Tears clog your throat and you try not letting them flood your vision, but it’s so hard. So hard when you’re this head over heels.

You don’t want to say it yet, and you don’t know if he’s even ready to say it, but the emotion filling you like a newborn star feels like love.

You barely manage to send out a text thanking him and hoping you’ll get to talk to him soon.

Joel, ever the endearing man he is, replies back with a simple heart emoji and you laugh.

You really might love this man.

And you hope, you so brightly hope, that he maybe loves you too.

You think of his book series, of how he became a writer simply wanting to tell his daughters stories. Those stories grew out of his love for them and now he gets to crystallize that among his pages.

You realize how writing truly is its own form of love.

After all, what better way for a writer to show their love, their heart, than to capture you in their words?

You think that’s where writers must live now, in the heart. Or maybe - your maybe gruff handsome one just does. And you happily welcome Joel’s place in yours and hope he resides there forever like a love poem etched into your very soul.

[painted-flag]

OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - aemond targaryen

Chapter 10: The Art of Potion Making

!!! An important poll regarding the upload schedule for this series can be found here. !!!

☾⋆⁺₊✧ dark elf!Aemond Targaryen x f!human!reader series. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series masterlist. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 4.5k ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series warnings: 18+ depictions of violence/gore, eventual smut, warfare, sickness/disease, some moments of misogyny, and mentions of alcohol consumption. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ Potion making is easy, but command over the dark arts is a skill derived from centuries of experience.

Two days came and went of unpacking as much as you could before going to your work and delving into books, notes, experiments, and taking care of patients. In the chaos of everything, there was no time for you to sit down and relax. You woke, ate quickly, unpacked as much as you could before Amara and Liriel came to get you ready for the day, and went about your duties in the healing facilities. 

In that time, not much progress was made in your research or Daeron’s. The two of you had hit a wall, which seemed impossible to overcome. It became a topic of tension between you two. Each knew that it was not the other's fault and did not blame them, but the feeling of hopelessness began to wear down on you two. 

You were finally granted a moment of reprieve. 

The cool breeze of the morning chill flowed through your open windows. Scents of blooming plants filled the space as you broke your fast. You had spent the morning reading the last filled-in pages of your father's journal. It may not have been the best decision, as you struggled to maintain your composure at parts. He would write about his days however a large focus was on you. He went on of how proud he was of you and of the young lady you were becoming. His written words gave you both a sense of comfort and a deep sharp pain in your chest. 

Your hand turned to the last entry and you took in the date. It was the day before he left on a trip, the one he vanished on. You sucked in a breath and looked outside, tears brimming your eyes. While your father’s disappearance was devastating, you managed to get used to the pain over the years. Reading his journal seemed to open those cuts you long thought were healed. 

Your eyes scanned the delicate ink stains of his writing. His writing had always been a topic of jealousy for you, for it was always neat. He spoke of his upcoming journey. While he originally told you he was heading north, his writing revealed it was not the case. Your brows furrowed as you scanned the writing, certain excerpts reaching out to you.

The southern lake of Rosemagne… is the topic of contention among my fellow researchers because of the… I believe it is a good place to gather samples to…

You scanned the words with a rushed fervour. You did not recognize the lake's name and found yourself leaving the table and moving toward your bookshelf. The chair scraped against the floor. Once you grabbed the book you were looking for, you dashed back and sat down. You flipped to a map of the known lands and scanned the various bodies of water. Your finger dragged across the parchment as you scanned, but you could not find it in your kingdom. A tiny feeling settled in your stomach; a queasy sickness that churned the food you had eaten. 

“Please tell me you were not so foolish…” Your voice barely came out, a whisper so imperceptible even you did not know if you actually spoke it. 

You began to go over the known lands of the elf kingdom. Far larger than your own, you spent longer scanning the land. To your horror, but also correct assumption, the image of Lake Rosemagne sat just under your fingertip. 

Oh, gods…

Your father entered elf territory without permission. His disappearance could only mean a single thing; he was caught and properly dealt with. The cup on your table was hurled at the wall quickly and you began to lose control of your breathing, chest heaving with sobs that threatened to spill. This whole time you held to the belief he was still out there. 

Your mind conjured up scenarios where he decided to stay in a place he thought promising to his research. While naive, it was how you coped. There was no way you wished to admit the truth that had been clawing down your throat for years. The thought of him dead, of you being parentless and thus alone and without grounding in this world, was not an option for you. 

Your suspicion then turned to Aemond. Surely, he would have known about your father. As king, he would have been notified of any trespassers. There was the very possibility that he may have executed your father himself. 

No. 

Your brain refused to admit it. He would have told you or perhaps Helaena may have known. You shook your head at that, if Helaena knew she would have informed you immediately after piecing it together. She would never hide a thing like that from you, but Aemond… 

Was Aemond’s agreement to Helaena’s proposal of you coming here nothing but a way to lure you in? To finish the job and get rid of all possible people who would have known?

The two of you had just begun to bridge the cavern that separated one another. Assumptions would get you nowhere. Whether or not he had a hand in your father's likely death, this had to be handled with care. There was no proof he had done what your brain jumped to and you would not condemn him until there was evidence. You would play the field as necessary. Not reveal that you know and pretend to be unaware of it all. 

The room felt stifling. The walls closed in on you and you needed to get out. You composed yourself and splashed water on your face from the wash basin to get rid of the redness on your skin. You placed your father’s journal under the pillows on your bed to hide it. While not a good spot, you were in no headspace to think of someplace better. 

All you cared about was leaving the suffocating room.

The door to the library by your laboratory was a welcoming sight. You believed it was time to shuffle through the shelves again in hopes that you could find something new for your research. A title you may have brushed off in previous visits could stand out and be worth the read. 

You pushed open the wood and are greeted with a sight you wished to avoid. Aemond stood beside one of the tables, casually flipping through the pages of a book that had been likely left behind by some visitor. He looked bored as if he had been waiting for something. Alerted by your presence, he turned his head to see you. 

“Good morrow, your grace.” You bowed respectfully, but truthfully you wished to run as fast and far as you could. Images of your father flashed across your vision when looking at the king. The speculation of your father’s death conjured up just moments ago pressed down on your chest. 

Aemond spoke your name. It was incredible how shamefully you relished in the way it rolled off his tongue. While you stated that you did not hate him, you also did not like him. At the very least, you had begun to think of him positively, but with your discovery that trust was thrown away. 

“I was informed of your curiousness regarding dark magic,” Aemond continued. You got nervous as such information could likely have you in dire straits. He picked up another book that was on the table and walked over to you, “This was something I read a few centuries ago. I completely forgot about it until I was browsing my shelves and thought you would need it.” 

The way in which he casually threw out that he had read it a few centuries ago came across like a person reminiscing on an event from just a month or two ago. Your heart quickened at the notion that, while he was browsing his personal collection, he stumbled across a book and thought of you. It was a dangerous mode of thinking for you, to go down such a speculative path. 

Aemond held out the book and you went to grab it. The tips of your fingers brushed against his and a flurry of heat coursed up through your arm. You almost reflexively dropped the book by the shock you felt. 

“Thank you,” You responded once it was in your arms. You held it to your chest, like some kind of shield between you two. 

“I was thinking that I could also peruse the shelves here with you. I can translate the ones in other languages.” It was yet another olive branch extended from him, except this time you did not want to meet it. The thought of your whole presence being here as a trap set by him threw you off. 

The most dangerous creatures are often beautiful. 

You had not remembered where exactly such a phrase was ingrained into you. You had heard it from someone, but their words rang true. It was best for you to put up a wall before it was too late. There was nothing wrong with you and Aemond’s relationship just a few short days ago – barely acknowledging one another. 

“I do not need any help, your grace,” You interjected, “Daeron has translators if I need them.” 

It may have been a trick of the light or perhaps a misinterpreted thought, but you could have sword a gleam of disappointment flashed across Aemond’s eye. He shuffled almost awkwardly on his feet and moved his hands to be clasped behind him. 

He gave you a curt nod, “I shall leave you to it, then.” He moved past you to leave and his scent lingered. Burning wood and parchment undercut by a medley of spices. It was entirely too intoxicating.

The familiar sight of Lyra lying in her bed greeted you as you walked into the sick hall. She had been fiddling with a doll in her lap, stuck in the childlike wonder of imagination. As you approached, she spotted you and a smile made its way on her face. 

Lyra spoke your name, “You’re here!” 

“I’m here. And how have you been, sweet girl?” You sat on the edge of the bed and made a trained scan of her body, checking the progression of the taint as the purple-black darkness spread on her skin. 

“I am fine, other than the fact that I wish to know what is going on outside this hall,” Lyra answered. It was no surprise she wanted to leave. Most patients expressed the same sentiment. Their bedbound lifestyle was suffocating. While they were not contagious, their frail conditions would make any instance of walking painful and could worsen their condition. 

“I’m sorry, but you know you cannot leave this bed.” You reasoned. 

Lyra nodded and held out the doll. It was small - only slightly bigger than your hand and sizeable enough to fit in a pocket. The doll shared a remarkable resemblance to Lyra. Gold embroidery string replicated her hair and a small sewn outfit adorned the doll. 

“Could you take Lady with you? It does not matter what adventure she goes on, I just want her to see outside this hall.” Lyra asked you. Your hands reached out to take the doll and made sure to handle it with extra care. 

“I will take her on many adventures.” You promised. While you gave her a wide smile, your inner self was in turmoil. It ached at the sadness of her situation, something that many others were suffering through. You looked around the room and saw Daeron walking in from one of the balconies. 

You leaned over to tuck Lyra in, “I have something I need to discuss with Daeron. Get some rest, sweet girl.” Lyra nodded at your words and closed her eyes to go to sleep. You tucked the doll gently in one of your dress pockets and got up to stop Daeron as he moved down the centre aisle. 

Daeron greeted you before his face went still, “How serious is it?” 

“Pardon?” You responded. 

“You get this look on your face when you are going to talk about something serious.” Daeron raised one eyebrow, “Am I correct?” 

You grabbed his arm and started to pull him in the direction of the laboratory. You proposed many days ago the option of using dark magic against the taint off of the basis of your poison hypothesis. He promised he would think about it and you gave him space to do so, but now you were more anxious than ever for a response. However, you could not bring it up in a space full of other witnesses. 

Once in the safety of the laboratory, you moved to the book you had used for this discovery and pulled out the mortua terra flower samples as well. You had already gathered all of the other ingredients that made up your old formula – the one with the most success. 

Daeron looked back and forth between you and the table, “And this is?” 

“My proposal,” You told him, “I gathered the flowers in this book. I am ready, but are you?” 

He kept his gaze on the jar of flowers in front of him and rested his hands on his waist, “Dark magic is something that marks your soul. I cannot, with consciousness, allow you to do this alone.” 

You moved your mouth to speak, but Daeron held his hand out to stop you, “You do not need to pretend you wouldn’t have gone and done it yourself regardless of my decision.” There was something almost comical in the way he could easily read you and you wondered if the other elves could do that as well.

Daeron went about organizing the ingredients and prepping everything to work. You followed in his steps, cutting and juicing the ingredients while he spoke, “There are things such as light and dark plants. They are incompatible in mixtures together, but each serves well on their own. Light plants are easy to manipulate. Those flowers you collected are dark, so working with them requires extra preparation steps.” 

“And I am guessing those steps are difficult,” You interjected. Daeron picked up a single mortua terra flower and inspected it. 

“Yes,” He answered, “We need blood to leech out its magical properties.” 

You paused your movements and the metal stirrer halted but the liquid inside the pot continued to swirl, “Blood?”

“The blood is just a grounding force.” He lit a small fire under two potting zones and poured the liquid from your pot into them. “I am curious to see the difference between human blood and elf blood.” 

“But if we just need blood to activate it, what makes it dark magic?” You questioned him. Daeron turned and dragged two comfy chairs across the stone floor to be placed near the table. He adjusted the pillows. 

“The blood is a connection to you and your soul. The more potent it is, the more energy it takes from you. That is the risk with dark magic, it sucks your energy and your soul the more you do it. However, the more you do it, you eventually cannot stop. It becomes addicting.” Daeron then unsheathed a dagger that was strapped to his waist. The metal glimmered in the candlelight. 

He picked up one of the flowers and dropped it into one of the pots. Once it sank into the simmering mixture, he held his hand out and slowly cut a line on his palm. Beads of blood pooled to the surface and dripped into the pot. His brows furrowed as he winced. Daeron cleaned the blade in a washpot that was on the table. He then held it out to you.

“Your skin must make contact with the flower. Drop it in, wait a few seconds, and then cut.” You took the blade from him and a small wave of reluctance came over you. This is what you wanted, but it was still terrifying. 

You followed the steps carefully. Afterwards, Daeron gestured to the chairs, “Sit down. The longer it brews, the more energy will be drained. We will be here all night.” 

The two of you sat in the chairs that were placed next to one another and listened to the bubbling of the liquid. Silence enveloped the two of you. As predicted, drowsiness settled over you. It was not intense, but began to creep up on you. Daeron did not look as affected and you assumed that largely had to do with your races; elves were stronger than humans.

To occupy yourself, you decided to speak, “Why is your brother the way he is?” 

“I do not even know where to begin with Aegon. He-” 

“Not Aegon,” You interrupted, “King Aemond. Why is he…” You trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. One moment, Aemond is holding a sword to your throat and the next he is offering you a book and help. It was incredibly dizzying. It made you feel mad. Aemond’s attitude threw you off, but the shreds of kindness that extended your way erupted a flurry in your stomach and burning in your veins.

Daeron sighed, “He is guarded. Some of the things he has gone through made him-”

“Cruel?” You finished his sentence.

He shook his head in denial and adjusted his posture in the chair, “As I said before, everything my brother did was to protect his people.” 

You waited a few moments before responding, “I’ve met your family, all of you are incredibly kind. I’ve heard the stories of what he did during the Great War. Why is he so different?” 

“Most of the stories about him you humans tell are exaggerated.” Daeron stretched his legs out, some drowsiness already starting to come over him.

“So he does not drink the blood of his enemies?” You asked. 

“No.” Was Daeron’s quick response. 

You decided to go through all of the stories you could remember, “Hangs men up by their balls? Feeds dead children to their parents? Leaves field of impaled men as a warning?”

“No.” 

“He doesn’t set fields and towns on fire? Raid strongholds that had already surrendered, killing all the men inside?” Your tone moved to a more teasing manner. 

Instead of answering, Daeron got quiet. His silence was a confirmation and you sunk further into your chair. You could, if you tried hard enough, picture it in your head. Aemond, standing in a blazing field, bodies littered around, and the screams of humans being all that could be heard. You cringed at that and felt an overpowering feeling of guilt for ever allowing yourself to be entranced by him. 

In your state of exhaustion, you leaned your head on Daeron’s shoulder. He rested his cheek against the top of your head and the two of you stared at the brewing pots. There was one last question that burned at you, one you had asked Aemond but received no response. 

“What does rūklon mean?” Your pronunciation had not gotten better, but the point was still made. 

You could feel Daeron adjust his head slightly, “Why?” 

“I just…” You paused and wondered if you should tell him that Aemond referred to you by that word to Helaena, but decided against it for fear it might be bad, “I heard it in passing and wondered.”

“Well, it could refer to a blooming plant, but more often it just means flower,” Daeron answered. Helaena’s voice – mimicking Aemond’s words – echoed through your head.

That stupid little rūklon risking her life… 

Little flower…

Was it a connection to the fact that you wore the azure perfume that reminded him of his childhood? That may have charged extra anger towards you. You highly doubted, out of all possible reasons behind it, that Aemond meant it as some kind of nickname. Daeron’s confirmation of Aemond’s cruelty just moments ago came back to you. 

Some weird part of you felt the need to justify his actions. They were at war and he was their king. He had pressure over his shoulders like no other to keep his people safe. Aemond had to make decisions, hard ones, for the continuation of his kingdom. Quickly after that thought came more guilt. You felt cruel yourself for trying to find a likely reason behind his actions – to somehow justify the wholesale slaughter of your own kind. 

Perhaps, if you were lucky one day, you could hear Aemond’s side. 

Daeron was the one to break the silence instead of you, “I love my siblings, I truly do. Helaena is my closest friend and I am grateful to have her as a sister. But… I’ve always wanted a little sister. I know it hasn’t been a while since we’ve met, but I think of you as one.” 

You did not know if he was just sharing this with you because he wanted to or if the gradual exhaustion had something to do with his confession. Regardless of the reasoning, his thoughts matched something you had always had. 

“I’ve always wanted an older brother.” It was a simple response, but gave Daeron the comforting answer he wanted. He went back to resting his head against yours. In your shared state of comfort, the both of you eased into a dreamless sleep.

You were caught in that haze of sleep and awake. There were no dreams, just an abyss of darkness that wrapped you in warmth. In the distance, a part of your consciousness was creeping forward. It spun into action upon hearing your name being whispered. You felt a light press on your shoulder and came to. Your eyes opened to see Daeron crouched in front of you. He shook your shoulder with care. 

Your energy had been regained and you saw the table with the brewing pots to be on a low simmer. It likely had burned through the energy needed and made it so you and Daeron could wake. It was only when you adjusted in your seat that you saw Aemond standing next to the table and watching you with his arms crossed. 

“Your grace,” You shot out of the chair, but in doing so made your head spin. You would have tumbled if Daeron did not catch you. One of his hands gripped your right forearm and the other wrapped around your waist with care. You blushed deeply with embarrassment as the flush moved across your cheeks and down your chest. 

Aemond observed with a careful eye. You could see his one eye drift down to where Daeron’s arms held you and he pursed his lips. He had likely seen you and Daeron asleep together and wondered what was going on. 

“Burning a candle at both ends?” Aemond spoke. It was a weird question coming from him; to tease you about working late. Daeron released you and walked to the table where his brother was. 

Daeron gestured to the two simmering pots, “We are starting a new experiment that may likely be promising.” Aemond peered over to look into the pots and hummed. You approached warily and moved to the other side of the table to create distance between you and the two elves. 

“They should be ready for testing on samples, your grace.” You spoke. Aemond continued to look at the mixture brewing. 

“The flowers she brought back was a stroke of genius,” Daeron praised. 

Aemond then looked up at you, his expression unreadable, “The same ones collected from the forest?” His tone bordered on scolding. Any words you could think of got caught in your throat and you nodded. 

Daeron sensed a bit of tension and clapped his hands together once, “Well, you should tell him about your hypothesis,” You sent him a look of challenge and he reciprocated with a nervous smile. You did not know why Aemond was being combative. While he was quick to attitude, there was something that must have soured his mood. 

You cleared your throat, “Well, some poisons can be used to counteract others. I thought the same could be done to the taint but it only worked temporarily. I thought, perhaps, the taint was not poison but some kind of dark magic. That is why we needed those flowers,” 

Aemond opened his crossed arms and clasped his hands behind his back, “Smart.” That seemed to ease the king's annoyance and you were able to breathe. 

“I must get going to tend to patients,” Daeron announced. He addressed you and spoke, “Keep watch on the brew.” The prince said his goodbyes and left. You wanted to reach out and tug at the collar of his shirt, drag him from the door, and place him right next to the table. There was an overwhelming urge to curse him out that overcame you. He left you alone with Aemond, knowingly and seemingly acted as though it was funny.

You decided to distract yourself from the tension and moved to start organizing ingredients and other items on the table. The piercing gaze of Aemond’s eye fell like lead on your skin. 

“The two of you have gotten close,” Aemond uttered. You continued with your task, though you could still see him in the corner of your vision. The table between you two did not feel like enough room, yet at the same time, a part of you wished it was not there. 

“Well, the prince has been incredibly helpful in teaching me-”

“I would advise against engaging in anything further.” He interrupted, “You best understand that elves and humans do not mix.” 

Your brows furrowed and you ceased your movements. His words took a few thrumming beats of your heart to register. Aemond’s insinuation finally hit you. He believed, upon seeing you and Daeron asleep against one another, that feelings were beginning to bloom. You understood why he was suddenly so sour. 

You were a human and the slightest notion of you so much as coupling with an elf must have been what angered him. He expressed his reservations about you being less because of your race in the past. It had angered him even further that he thought you were not just trying to go after an elf, but a member of the royal family no less. He barely thought you were good enough to consider a friend.

“Oh, no-” You tried to interject and clarify, but Aemond interrupted again. 

“Best get back to work.” He gave you an uncomfortable smile as if hiding a tinge of pain and quickly exited the room. You were left alone in the laboratory. The bubbling of the pots became a background noise as the thrumming of your heart took over. You did not know why it was beating so quickly. At no point in that exchange did you feel scared or hunted, yet your heartbeat betrayed you. A heat had returned to your face and you shook your heat in an attempt to ground yourself. 

You moved to stir the two pots all while trying to ease the unknown feelings budding in your chest.

Chapter 11: A New Ally Preview

His eyes narrowed and you could tell his temper had flared. He then stood chest to chest with you and raised his arm. You stood with your shoulders straight, willing to take whatever he threw at you. Cole would not have you act out in violence towards him. Despite having made incredible progress here, your record was not entirely clean since your run into the woods. If you chose to attack an elf – especially a council member – no amount of advocacy on Helaena’s, Daeron’s or even Aegon’s account would save you from harsh punishment. 

As Cole narrowed in to strike you, a voice interrupted, “I hope I am gravely mistaken for what I am witnessing.”

☾⋆⁺₊✧ If you want to be added to the taglist, click here!

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[creator1mpersonator]

Through the Mirror

01. Fascination Street

Inspired by Coraline, reader is gender-neutral, no use of Y/N, google translate french

Taglist: @agaygothicmushroom

Dinner that night came from a local fast food joint that was wholly unremarkable. Everything in that town was unremarkable, it seemed. Your father, bless his soul, was doing his best to make the most of this abrupt change while your mother remained less than pleased about the whole thing (despite this whole move being for their job.) After dinner was done, you helped clean up and jumped at the opportunity to take out the trash so you could escape the stuffy tension between your parents for just a few seconds. You went outside, holding the Glad bag by the knot as you walked to the trashcan by the side of your home.

You took in your street’s appearance at night. The neighboring houses were dark, and a few light posts emanating a harsh orange light stood tall in the street. It was almost eerie, but perhaps that was just your perception. You tossed the bag inside the trashcan and walked back inside. Your mother had left the kitchen table, leaving your father alone to work on his laptop. You felt a bit bad, offering him a smile of encouragement as you closed the front door and locked it for the night. You went up to your bedroom, looking through your boxes and backpack for an adequate set of pajamas for the night before you began unpacking the next day. You decided on a faded band tee and a pair of pants that had cats printed on them before changing and climbing into bed. The house was quiet, save for the groan of the house settling. After a while, you found yourself falling asleep.

When you woke up– or more adequately were woken up– everything was dark. You heard something tapping on glass, and you sat up to see a raven tapping its beak against the mirror. You were astounded to find a raven in your damn bedroom of all places, until you realized you were surely dreaming. You got out of bed, socked feet pattering gently against the hardwood floors as you approached the bird. It cawed at you, tapping at the mirror a few more times before flying through.

Your eyes widened, not believing what you just saw. Even for a dream, that seemed far-fetched. It became more absurd when the mirror reflected swirls of purple as if trying to lure you in.

Even more absurd was the fact you crawled through. You climbed onto the dresser beneath the mirror and went through. It was just a dream, what's the harm?

You found yourself in an alluring tunnel of wonderful colors, and you crawled through into a lavish living area. The furniture was golden with plush purple velvet, the walls had a vintage-type wallpaper, and many extravagant chandeliers hung above you. You stood up to your full height, looking around and taking in the new space when you heard footsteps approaching. A short but rather pretty boy with fluffy lilacl hair and big blue eyes came into view, walking towards you with great purpose.

“There ya are!” he exclaimed, his southern accent heavy, “Vil’s gonna throw a damn tantrum if he don’t find ya!”

He was expecting you? Who was he? Who was Vil?

“I’m sorry, who are you?” You asked, taking a cautionary step back.

The boy blinked at you.

“Oh, yeah. Vil said ya’d be confused,” he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, “Sorry ‘bout that. I’m Epel.”

“Ah, hi Epel.” You greeted, “I’m–”

“I know who ya are,” Epel cut you off.”

“...Right.”

“C’mon,” Epel said, turning around, “Vil’s gonna bite his manicure off if he don’t see ya soon.”

Seeing no other choice, you followed Epel. Besides, this place seemed fascinating and you wanted to see what’d happen next.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who’s Vil?” You asked Epel, falling into step next to him.

“A real hardass.” Epel grumbled, “He’s da queen of this place, real pretty. He just don’t got the heart to match.”

You hummed, feeling a bit nervous about meeting this Vil now. Epel led you through the halls of the building, and you felt like you were being led through a maze. You also couldn’t help but notice that there didn’t seem to be anyone else there but you and Epel. But, just as you went to ask Epel, he led you into a grand common room. It was similar to the room you entered through, but a grand throne sat against the back wall. Peacock-like feathers sat behind it, decorating it with an air of grandeur and importance and you swore you heard Epel scoff before straightening up like a soldier being inspected.

On the throne sat a beautiful man, more than Epel described. He was tall with porcelain-like skin, and no imperfection was visible. He had shoulder-length blonde hair that faded into purple towards the ends and purple eyes. Another man was standing next to the throne, tall and an oddly fearsome smile sat on his face. He too had blonde hair, though his was styled like a bob and sharp green eyes. A hat with a large plume sat on his head.

“Is that them?” the man on the throne, Vil, asked. Epel nodded, and Vil approached you. He seemed almost happy to see you until he saw something that displeased him: your attire.

“What in the Seven are you wearing?” He asked you, eyes narrowed as he scrutinized your pajamas. You looked down to look at your attire.

“What’s wrong with it?” You timidly asked, feeling like a specimen beneath Vil's scrutinizing gaze.

“Please, Potato-” potato? “What isn’t wrong with it? This is hardly adequate for such a lovely being as yourself.” Vil huffed, as if his being in the presence of a faded The Cure was a personal offense.

“Rook,” Vil called, and the blonde man who stood next to him approached, “find suitable nightwear for our guest.”

“Of course, roi du poison.” Rook said, bowing in reverence and beaming at you before he walked out of the room. Vil sighed and moved some hair out of your face.

“Come along now, you two.” He said, beckoning you with a graceful wave of his hand. Epel followed like a sleeper agent, and you followed Epel.

“No doubt you are confused, potato.” Vil stated, continuing to use that nickname for you, “This is the dorm of the Fairest Queen, Pomefiore. I am the housewarden, and Rook is the vice-housewarden.”

“A dorm? So, this is like a school?” You asked. “Exactly. Aren’t you bright?” Vil hummed, and you couldn’t tell if he was being condescending or not. You also noticed that Vil was in no particular rush to give any context about the rest of the school, or of the other students that should’ve been there. It was a school, right?

Your surroundings were beautiful. You saw a vast landscape outside, and the halls of Pomefiore were clearly immaculate. If Vil was the leader, he certainly did a good job at it.

“This shall do nicely.” Vil said, stopping abruptly in front of a door and in your distracted state, you nearly bumped into Epel. Vil opened the door, revealing an uninhabited dorm. A large bed was in the middle, lacy white curtains hanging from the ceiling as a canopy. Two large stained glass windows were on the wall to the left, with deep red curtains. There was a dresser and nightstand, both of regal design, soft carpet and an empty desk. Warm lights shone above, giving an almost cozy atmosphere.

And above the desk was a mirror like the one in your true bedroom.

“Do you like it?” Vil asked you, and you nodded.

“It’s beautiful.” You said. “Good. I’d hate for you to stay in an inadequate room.”

“What do you mean?” “Well, this shall be your room for when you stay here,” Vil said, gently placing his gloved hands on your shoulders. That made you pause.

“What is this place?” You asked.

“It’s Pomefiore, darling.” Vil said, “I’ve already told you this.”

“No, I mean all of this. I’ve never heard of a place like Pomefiore.”

“Ah, well of course you haven’t. This is a world completely unlike your own.” Vil clarified, gently squeezing your shoulders.

You didn’t have much of a chance to ask any further questions before Rook found the three of you (with startling accuracy), holding something silken in his arms.

“I believe I’ve found something magnifique for notre petit trickster!” Rook happily exclaimed. Right, Vil sent him to find you proper pajamas.

“Wonderful, Rook.” Vil said as Rook laid the clothing onto your bed. It was light purple and silky, with the crest of Pomefiore on the breast pocket. It looked expensive and comfortable.

“I– Thanks, this is incredibly kind of you.” You said, and Rook’s off-putting smile only got wider.

“You have no reason to thank us, potato.” Vil said, gently lifting your head with the tip of his fingers beneath your chin, “we just wish to see you happy and comfortable.” Epel and Rook nodded in agreement.

“It is certainly late, you should sleep. A healthy sleep schedule is imperative for maintaining your beauty, you know.” Vil said, “do you need anything before we leave you be?”

You shook your head.

“Very well then. Goodnight, potato.” He squeezed your shoulder, before leaving. “Bonsoir, trickster.” Rook cooed, leaving second.

“Goodnight, ___.” Epel said, and you noticed his southern accent wasn’t noticeable in his voice the way it was before. He left last, closing the door behind him.

You changed into the silk pajamas Rook brought you, before crawling into bed. The warm lighting created a calming ambience, and you soon fell asleep.

When you woke up, you were back in your original bedroom. And despite it supposedly being a dream, you still had on the silk pajamas.

[lonely-ey3s]

With All My Love : Chapter 4 | casualties

Chapter 4: Casualties

Pairing: joel miller x f!reader, no outbreak

Word count : 14.1k

Chapter Summary: You and Joel have your first Skype call together and continue to do so in the following weeks. You both get closer and fall deeper for each other, hinting towards a definite future together. A few weeks later after an incident that happened between you and Terrence's replacement, you open up to Joel about your past abuse and you two become closer by how he talks you through it but also by acts he demonstrates to show you what you mean to him. In the following weeks, just when you think things have calmed down, you and Maria are told you are going on a special assignment to rescue a higher-ranking officer, going to a location you aren’t sure if you will make it out - as you’ll be heading into no man's land. 

Chapter warnings: fluff, flirting, mutual pining, language, mentions of combat and war, blood, violence, hand-to-hand combat, mentions of guns and a knife, hate speech (not by either of our babies), anxiety, panic attacks, use of Y/N, mentions of abuse, descriptions of injuries, angst. 

A/N: oh my, this one is a big one but it was necessary for chapters to come! i hope you enjoy it as much as i loved writing it! please like, comment, and repost if you want to see more! thank you for all the support you've given me with the first 3 chapters, i've loved to see and hear everyone's thoughts and love! i love these two and am so happy their story is coming together - ugh love it! xx

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Main Masterlist

As soon as Joel hit ‘Accept’ you came onto the screen, earbuds in your ears, smiling brightly. You had an oversized shirt on and your hair down, flowing to one side. “Hey there handsome!” you said smiling and talking in a soft voice, like you might have been trying to stay quiet. 

“Wow…” he said out loud without realizing. 

You softly giggled and blushed, “Joel, can you hear me?” you asked as his response was a little unexpected but had butterflies erupting throughout your stomach. 

“Y-Yeah, I can hear you darlin’...” he smiled and chuckled, shyly dragging his fingers through his hair. 

“Darlin’...? I’ve been wondering what that southern drawl sounds like, and I must say, I will most definitely never tire of it.” you smiled brightly.  

He smiled brightly, “I’m sorry if I woke you up, I uh… I did the math and thought you wouldn’t maybe see my message for a few more hours.”

You shook your head and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “You’re sweet, you didn’t wake me. I woke up cuz it’s so damn hot here, couldn’t sleep.” looked up hearing someone stir in the room then looked back down at the screen, “Sorry, I’m tryna keep quiet, everyone else is asleep but I wanted to see you as soon as I could after finally seeing you were able to message!” you bit your bottom lip, “Sorry it took so long, it’s been a busy few weeks here.” you looked at him, he was in awe and captivated by how beautiful you looked.  

“So you’ve said darlin’. I’m just glad to know you’re alright.” he licked his lip and smiled softly, “You had me worried for a while, can’t have that pendant of yours failin’ me…”

You blushed “No we can’t have that, can we?” 

Joel smiled and shook his head, the silence and tension between the two of you palpable. 

You cleared your throat softly, blushing, “Did you and Sarah have a good 4th of July weekend?” 

He nodded, “Yeah, we did. She had a soccer tournament on Friday out of town so we took a little getaway with my brother, Tommy, he has a boat, and so we spent all of yesterday on Canyon Lake just outside of Austin… we took lots of pictures for you.” he winked. 

You would never get tired of hearing his voice. You nodded along as he talked, “That sounds like a lot of fun. Did you guys get to barbeque on the lake or eat any good food?”

“Yeah, we did some burgers and hotdogs on a portable grill we had, wasn’t so bad.” He smiled, “What about you? Didn’t you guys have somethin’ like Spam and potatoes or somethin’ like that?” he hadn’t realized he may have let part of Tommy and Maria’s conversation slip, he was just so focused on you, his brain shut off somewhat. 

You chuckled and tilted your head confused, “Yeah… we did… how did you know that? You spyin’ on me somehow Joel Miller?”  

Joel’s face fell a little, realizing he slipped, “I uh…” 

You looked at him and chuckled, “You ok handsome? Cat got your tongue?” 

He took a deep breath, he wasn’t going to start this off with dishonesty, so he anxiously scratched his scruff and then looked down a his lap, “Uh… so funny story…” he lightly let out a chuckle nervously. 

You had learned with your ex and parents to pay attention to body language and tone, so you sat up a bit straighter, anxious, a weight instantly dropping in your stomach, ‘Shit, he just got nervous’ you thought. “Joel, what’s going on?” you said softly. 

He noticed your immediate reaction, looked back up at you, and then softly smiled, “Oh no, sweetheart, nothin’ is wrong…” he bit his lip and thought of how to say what he was about to say, “You umm… you have a nickname for Maria’s pen pal…” he paused, “Reginald right?” 

You nodded slowly and then started to put the dots together, Maria had already suggested that they were related, you just didn’t think it could happen. Then you realized how the hell he knew that name then you turned bright red, “You… oh my god.” you laughed and covered your face with your hands, embarrassed. “Oh my god, you saw me make a fool of myself on Maria’s Skype call yesterday!” 

Joel laughed and bit his lip at your reaction, finding your embarrassment and shyness so fucking cute. “I um, I didn’t see you, but I was in the room when Tommy Skyped her, I heard your sweet voice though, it drove me mad to not be able to see you and say hello…” 

You peeked through your hands, blushing madly, “Oh god, I’m so embarrassed… you weren’t supposed to see that side of me already!” 

He let out a deep gut laugh, leaning his head back against the headboard, and you started to giggle back, covering your mouth, trying not to wake the others. 

“Stop laughing, I’m serious! You’re only supposed to see the lady-like side of me before you see the goof that Z and Maria have brought out in me..” you smiled at him slowing down your giggling, tucking your hair again behind your ear. 

He slowed down his laugh and smiled softly at you, eyes bright and cheeks red, thinking, thanking the universe for hearing your laugh so much tonight, “Nah, I like the goof in you, it made me smile like a fuckin’ idiot hearing you. Tommy gave me so much shit after…” he admitted. 

You smiled brightly knowing you had that effect on him, “Like an idiot huh? I’ll have to keep that up, I wanna see that type of smile on your handsome face.” you threw at him, he instantly blushed then jumped slightly when he heard Sarah knock on his door. 

“Dad? Are you good? I see we have a casualty of pasta on the floor downstairs…” she said through the door. 

You listened closely, smiling hearing Sarah’s voice, and chuckling at her joke. 

“Yeah, I’m good baby girl! I’m just on a Skype call with Y/N, umm, I left my wallet on the counter, could you order some takeout? Your choice!” he smiled down at you, watching you listen. 

Sarah smiled brightly hearing that he was talking to you. “Yeah of course Dad! Tell Y/N hi for me and thank her for my bracelet! And I will bring in your food when it gets here!” 

Joel looked down at you, “You hear all that?” he asked.

You nodded, “Can she hear me?” 

He shrugged, “Maybe?” he chuckled. 

You grinned and then put a finger up to signal to hold on, you set the laptop down on the floor you had been sitting on and then stood up, Joel seeing you only had that oversized shirt on and some very short shorts on under, his breath hitched and felt himself instantly grow hard. His throat went dry, “H-Hold..” he swallowed, “Sarah hold on a sec…!” he shouted at Sarah through the door, voice cracking a little.

She peeked her head in and giggled hearing the voice crack, “Yeah Dad?” he pulled a pillow quickly over his lap, and held up a finger like you, “Wait one sec.” 

He saw you pick up the laptop and then quietly tried to walk through the dark room, only to stub your toe on something, “Ow, fuckin’ shitballs.” you winced, hopping on one foot. 

Sarah snorted holding in a laugh at your remark. Joel looked down at you and chuckled at your phrase as well, “You ok darlin’?” 

You nodded and whispered, “Yeah, yeah just stubbed my toe. Sorry for cussing Sarah…”

You walked out of the room and quietly shut the door and looked around, one soldier saw you a few feet away and wolf whistled your way, “Damn Y/N, didn’t know you had that fat of an ass! Come over and sit on my lap mama!” 

Joel visibility got jealous, jaw clenched and zeroing in on the piece of shit talking to you that way. 

“Martinez, the only woman that would ever touch you without a ten-foot pole is your mama. Shut the fuck up and keep your eyes off my ass.” you shot back without missing a beat, walking away from him, finding somewhere to sit that was a bit more quiet.  

Joel smirked, and whispered under his breath, “That’s my girl..” 

You smiled and blushed to hear him say that, looking down at him. You looked around and then sat down against an abandoned house, and then let out a sigh, “Sorry, that took longer than a minute, is Sarah still able to hear me?” 

“I can hear you!” Sarah shouted from the doorway. 

“Oh! Lovely! Hi Sarah! I’ve heard such good things about you. I’m glad you like your bracelets, I’ll be sending something else for you and your dad in my next parcel.” you smiled at Joel and winked. 

He smiled brightly and then looked at Sarah then at you, “Do you guys wanna say hello? You don’t have to shout at each other...” he chuckled. 

You smiled and tucked your hair behind your ears, “I’d love to but only if Sarah is comfortab-” Before you could finish your sentence Sarah had jumped on the bed by Joel, hugging his arm and leaning into the screen. “Hey there!” she smiled, “Oh my gosh, your hair is so pretty down! Is that your natural color?”

You nodded and smiled, “Thank you! Yes, it is! I love your curls- I’m envious of them! I’ve always wanted curly hair!” you giggled. 

Sarah giggled, “They are a lot to manage but I do love ‘em!” she smiled and looked at Joel who was soaking in the moment, he was practically glowing. 

“I heard you had a soccer tournament this weekend, how did it go? What position do you play?” you asked. 

“We placed second and I scored two goals, one of them won the game for us! Dad took pictures…” she looked back at Joel, “Can you send them to her?” 

Joel nodded and then looked at you, “Yeah I’ll message them to you later.” he smiled. 

Sarah smiled and looked back at you, “I play a center forward, do you play soccer?” she asked. 

“I played a little as a kid with like my schoolmates but never competitively like you. However, I did just learn some tricks that some of the kids here taught me, I’ll have to show you someday and you can show me what you can do!” you said softly smiling and messing with the hem of your shirt. 

“I’d like that. Do you know when your tour is over?” she asked abruptly. 

Joel didn’t even think to ask that question. He perked up and looked at you. 

“I’ve been told that if things keep going the way they do, I’ll be home in the spring. If they get better, I could be home either right before or after the holidays but it’s been crazy here, so I’m keeping my expectations low, you know?” you said looking at the hem of your shirt, the thought of you not being home til spring made you anxious. 

Joel could tell your mood shifted, “Well Sarah and I will hope for sooner, home for the holidays, yeah?” 

You looked up and softly nodded and smiled, agreeing. 

“I have one last question and then I’ll go order take out…” Sarah said curiously. 

“Alright kiddo, shoot.” you looked her way. 

“Why Reginald?” she tilted her head. 

You let out a laugh, “Oh jeez..” you began to chuckle, “Ok, so when Maria and I sent our letters at first to your dad and your uncle, we knew nothing about them. I teased her because she sprayed hers with her perfume. I said she had no idea who or where her letter was going, it could be an old guy in a nursing home and said his name is probably Reginald or something… as that was before I knew her pal’s name, but the joke stuck and it continues to push her buttons.” you chuckled.

Joel chuckled at your sense of humor and Sarah did as well, “I like that, it’s like you're calling him an old man… I’m going to call him that now too, especially when he’s being annoying… which is all the time.” she emphasized. 

You giggled and nodded, “You can tell him that Maria’s lovely, awesome, never annoying at all roommate said you could use it if he gets mad, he can take it up with me.” you winked. 

Sarah nodded and smiled, “Will do, thanks for the ammo!” she giggled and then slid off the bed, “I’m going to go order food, I’m starving! It was nice meeting you, have a good rest of your night- well day for you!” she said smiling brightly at the camera before running out of the room shutting the door behind her. 

You chuckled at Joel “She’s a fun kid. I can see a lot of you in her…” you smiled at him. 

He smiled warmly, “Thanks darlin’, that means a lot.” 

You sat in silence together for a moment before you spoke up “Sorry to have crashed your dinner plans, did I hear there was a pasta casualty?” 

Joel chuckled lightly and looked down shyly, “I may have heard your message notification ding, and may have dropped everything I had in my hands to run over to my laptop, then after seeing your message, may have ran upstairs to call you, abandoning the mess…” 

“Oh I see… so there are only allegations against you, no concrete evidence tying you to the scene of the crime, innocent until proven guilty, am I right?” you teased. 

He looked up at you and chuckled, “Exactly.” 

You smiled warmly and sighed contently. 

“In my defense, and all honesty, I will drop whatever I’m doing to give you my time and attention… you know for the record.” he winked, smiling brightly.

You blushed and looked down shyly, smiling from ear to ear, “Now here I go smiling a fuckin’ idiot.” 

He chuckled and then bit his bottom lip, “Look at me when you’re doin’ that darlin’, I wanna see that beautiful smile.” 

You blushed harder and looked at him, laughing at how silly you must’ve looked, “God, you can’t keep sayin’ things like that, Joel Miller!” 

He loved the way you said his name, but even more, he loved your laugh. He would forever have it programmed into his brain, on repeat, along with the image of your smile tattooed right beside it. 

He bit his lip, loving seeing you like this. He thought he was out of practice with his flirting but clearly, he had quite the effect on you. “You keep smilin’ and laughin’ like that, and we are gonna have a different problem with what you're doin’ to my heart darlin’...” 

“I could say the same about you cowboy…” you said as you came down from your laugh. 

Before Joel could say anything back he heard someone call your name in the background, you looked up, looking around, and he heard them say ‘We have 3 wounded coming in and could use the extra hands if you’re awake, can you help?’ 

“Uh, hold on one sec Benson!” You looked back down at Joel, clearly torn on what to do. 

“Go, it’s ok sweetheart, they need your help. How about we do this weekly, yeah? Keep the letters coming as usual, and just do this in addition at least once a week… more if we are feelin’ freaky” he chuckled and winked. 

You nodded and softly smiled, “Yes, let's do that. I’ll message you later, ok?” 

He nodded, “Go save some lives! I’ll talk to you soon.” 

You smiled and blushed, “I’ll talk to you soon.” you stood up and ended the call. 

Joel sat in his bed, beaming, feeling happier than he’d ever felt before. 

He heard a ding and looked at his laptop: 

‘I know it's been less than a minute but I miss you and your voice already, wanna Skype again later? ❣️🥺’

He chuckled and typed back:

‘I was just thinkin’ of messaging you the same thing, beautiful 😘 Just message me when you’re free and I’ll call you! ❤️’

Reader’s POV

2 weeks later 

You and Joel had Skype called a few times in the last couple of weeks, more than the once-a-week foundation you laid out. 

You could tell that not only yourself, but he was addicted to hearing from each other. It was the highlight of your day when it happened and made your whole chaotic world slow down. 

Z and Maria met him on the last call two days ago when they crashed your call, just like you did to Maria. You couldn’t help but laugh at the karma. 

Maria and Tommy Skyped more often than you and Joel, they even started to flirt themselves as you heard eavesdropping on her last call. You and Z would giggle at her attempt to flirt outside of the window while listening together. 

You sent your disposable camera back to Joel a week ago along with another letter and parcel. This one included little candies that Z had shown you that you decided you had to share with Joel and Sarah. 

Z and you were glued at the hip, now that he was back to pretty much his full health, he helped in the clinic when you’d work if he wasn’t off playing with other boys in the village. He would help gather supplies and translate if needed between you and injured or sick village folk. 

He taught you how to say things so that when he wasn’t around you knew what to say or ask. He was patient and admired how you wanted to learn the language instead of being ignorant like most other soldiers. 

Since Terrance had been discharged to go home, Reggie got a new partner, right after you guys got back, his name was Braedon. However, something about him just didn’t feel right to any of you. He only cared about himself and Reggie even felt something off about him, he just couldn’t place it other than he was self-centered and only worried about climbing the ranks, not about saving the lives needing it or making personal sacrifices. You couldn’t stand him as he always had something smart to say or just wasn’t useful, someone always having to babysit him.

—

July 20th, 2004

13:09

You were cleaning out a wound in the medical tent, a small group had just rolled in from a camp 2 miles north that was overrun. Maria and Reggie were on the other side dealing with their problems while Braedon stood there, not jumping in to help with the obvious load. 

You were tired, hungry, and frustrated, and you didn’t have time to babysit. 

“Hey Braedon, there’s a head lac in bay 2, can you take care of that?” you yelled at him over the screams of pain from your patient and the normal hustle and bustle of the med tent. 

He looked at you and rolled his eyes, annoyed, “Yep.” then said something under his breath as he walked over to bay 2 and began working. 

Z was standing next to you and saw the reaction as well, he looked up at you, “What’s his problem?” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, glaring, you scoffed, “I don’t know Z… but it’s about to be an earful from me…” you clenched your jaw, temper starting to boil.

You addressed the wound you were cleaning. You began packing it, starting a line of fluids, and making sure the patient was comfortable, when you looked at Z, “Start to gather gauze and a pair of gloves for the guy over in bay 9, and then wait for me there.” Z nodded and then left to do what you said. 

Your blood was now boiling, fists balled. You were done with his selfishness and shitty attitude. He tended to hit the right buttons and now that you think about it, he reminded you of your ex. The difference between the two was you didn’t take that bullshit anymore and were a United States Army medic, which had given you a newfound confidence, and a ‘fuck around and find out’ attitude. 

You walked up and stood across from him as he was working on a patient that seemed to now be unconscious, “Alright, I’m just gon’ cut the bullshit and say what I want to say to you because I am for one sick of the bullshit fake ‘team effort’ you seem to put on only when commanding officers are around for you to brown nose.” You clenched your jaw and narrowed your gaze, “I’m not here to fuckin’ babysit you, neither is Reggie and neither is Maria. The four of us, we are a team - hell you and Reggie are partners, start acting like it.’ You raised your voice slightly, frustrated by his lack of urgency with Tier 1 trauma patients like this one below you, “Next- if you see someone fuckin’ bleedin’, you need to put the two goddamn brain cells you seem to possess, together, and jump in - do your fucking job.” You make eye contact with him, eyes dangerous and threatening, fists balled so tight you are putting nail marks into your palms, “Lastly, the next time you roll your eyes at me, say some backhanded comment, or cop an attitude in the slightest, I’ll knock your head so hard, it’ll fuckin’ spin.” you said lowly, giving him a fake two-second smile after. “Glad we can now be on the same page…” you bit out and then you turned around to walk away towards the bay you told Z to go to, shaking your hands out at your side, letting that energy go. 

Just as you were walking around the outside of the tent, several feet away from Z, you felt a tug at your left shoulder before you were spun around and a fist met the left side of your jaw, disorienting you for a moment, knocking you to the ground, and then immediately being kicked in the ribs a few times. “I’ll talk to you however I fucking want, you fucking bitch!” then a glob of spit landed on your cheek. “You and that dirty fuckin’ terrorist kid can fuck off!” he said referring to Z. 

You’ve never seen red and felt so much rage before. Your heart began to pound in your chest so loud you heard it in your ears, and heat rose from your back to your head. 

You grabbed a fist full of dirt from the ground and threw it up into his eyes, then grabbed his foot and knocked him to the ground, straddling his waist. You landed a blow to his nose, then another, harder, hearing it crack. You grabbed him by the jaw to center his face with one hand and then punched him again in the cheek, blood now running from his nose and mouth. 

Z screamed your name, telling you to stop. 

You didn’t hear anything, adrenaline muting out your surroundings, only focusing on him. 

Braedon flipped you off of him and tried to straddle you, to pin you down, but you did a maneuver to get out from under him and instead on top of him, putting him in a chokehold, then flipping around to one side and slamming yourself on the ground on your back, holding him against you, wrapping your legs around his knees, locking your ankles to immobilize him. He began elbowing your ribs over and over to get away, scratching at your arms, but you just tightened your grip, numb to the pain with the adrenaline coursing through your body. He started gasping for air, and you felt his body go slowly limp, so you let him go, he rolled to the side and choked for air. 

You stood up and felt blood coming from your lips and nose. You touched your lip and saw blood, “Made me bleed… big mistake.” you said to yourself, eyes focused on him like he was prey. 

He was on all fours, coughing, trying to catch his breath, Z ran to get Maria or Reggie after seeing the look you had in your eye. 

Your chest was heaving, breathe heavy, but slow and controlled. Rolled your shoulders back, and stepped forward, kicking his tailbone, knocking him flat on the ground, he whined, “Please, I’m sorry…” 

Your gaze was cold and numb, not caring about anything he was saying. 

“Get up.” you said plainly, unemotionally. He didn’t move. “Get the fuck up!” you raged. 

He rose slowly and backed up raising his hands in defeat. “Please Y/N.. I said I was sorry…” he pleaded. 

You walked him up against a wall that was behind him, crowding his space, grabbing the collar of his shirt, “Sorry would have cut it if you just went after me, but you went after Z… no apology will take that back, you revolting piece of shit.” you punched him in the jaw as he did to you which made him lean to the left to fall to the ground but then you grabbed him by his shoulders and kneed him in the groin. 

You stepped back as he toppled over and fell to the ground, holding his groin and crying in pain, you repositioned and kicked him twice in the torso, cursing him under your breath, you stepped back, he was coughing up blood and gasping for air. You took another step towards him, fist still balled and bloody at your sides, calculating to kick him again in the stomach or face, you didn’t know which, you would just swing. 

That’s when you felt Maria. She pulled you back, arms wrapping around your midsection and trapping your arms, picking you up to move you back, “Stop… you need to stop!” you fought against her, not grasping it was her. Rage still taking hold of your senses, “Let me go! Let me fucking go!” Maria looked at Reggie, holding you still, who then went and checked on Braedon. 

Z stepped in front of you to block your vision of Braedon which made you snap out of it. 

Your vision cleared and you were aware of what you had just done. Your breathing was ragged and uneven, then the pain hit you like a train, “Ah fuck..” you felt your ribs on fire with each breath.

“Ok… there we go… there you are.” she let you go and came in front of you, touching your cheek and shoulder, “Fuck…” she grimaced at your face. “What the hell happened?” she looked over you, assessing you. She knew this wasn’t your fault, something was said or done to provoke this level of violence from you. 

You fell to your knees and gripped your rib cage with one hand and your head with the other, in too much pain to understand what she had just asked before you heard Z speak.

“He hit her first.” Z said softly, “I saw it. Then called her a bitch and spit on her… and then called me a…” he stopped and looked down sadly. 

Maria looked back at him, “Z, what did he call you?” 

You looked at Z who was saddened and most likely ashamed by the slur, “He called him a dirty fuckin’ terrorist, Maria.” you looked past Z, Braedon still on the ground, bloodied and in pain. You clenched your jaw angrily, and took a deep breath, “You don’t say shit like that without consequences.” you looked back up at her, anger in your eyes.

Maria looked back at Braedon and Reggie, “Reggie, get him bay 6 and then get Sarge… a report needs to be filed against him for assault and hate speech.” Reggie didn’t care to question, he also knew you weren’t capable of this level of violence either without being provoked and you all knew there was something off with this guy. 

He nodded and had another nearby soldier help him load Braedon onto a transfer cot and then took him to bay 6. 

You shook your head to refocus yourself and stood to your feet, starting to walk away, to bay 9, wiping the blood from your nose and lip on the bottom of your shirt. 

“Uh, where do you think you’re going?” Maria asked, shocked to see what you were doing. 

“I’m fine Maria. We’ve got work to do.” you stopped walking and looked back at Z, “Come on Z, I need your help.” then began walking again, slowly, obvious to everyone you were in pain.

Z looked at Maria, unsure what to do. 

Maria sighed at your stubbornness. “Keep an eye on her, we only have a few hours left on shift then I’ll make her get checked out.” 

He nodded and ran to catch up with you. You hugged him to your side protectively when he caught up and kissed the top of his head, “No one gets to call you those names, not ever Z.”

He nodded and hugged your side gently back, “Yes, khahar…”

You finished your shift and then snuck away to your bunkhouse as you saw Maria still knee-deep in a patient and Z left about an hour ago to play soccer with some of his friends after you put on a brave face to convince him you were fine. You closed the door with a chair up against it and started to take off your shirt, wincing in pain. You took it off and looked at yourself in the mirror, accessing the damage. 

Your ribs were lightly bruised which would be the start of an ugly sight. You had scratch marks up and down your forearms from when you had him in a chokehold. You took a deep breath through your nose and then looked at your face, your nose had dried blood coming from it, but no signs of it being broken that you could see. Your lip was swollen and broken slightly, but not the worst it’s been. 

You tilted your head back and forth to stretch your neck as there was a pain in it from the punch, most likely whiplash. 

You saw the picture you had of Sarah and Joel taped to your mirror and sighed sadly, “Crap, he’s going to lose his shit.” you pinched the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes, a raging headache starting. 

You heard the door handle twist and then try to open, “God damn it. Y/N, let me in!” Maria sighed, shouting through the door. 

You came to the door and moved the chair, twisting the handle to open the door, “I’m not going to the med tent, I already did an assessment. In conclusion, I got fucked up. Bruised ribs and whiplash but that’s it.” you said as if that was going to stop her from dragging you to the clinic herself. 

“Nice try, you need to get checked out. Sarge’s orders. He needs it for the report, he also needs your statement.” She argued. 

“But I-” you looked at her to protest. 

“No, now. I came to get you. Go.” she said, not budging. 

You sighed and grabbed your shirt, swinging it over your shoulder, walking out of the bunkhouse towards the med tent in your sports bra, subconsciously proud of your battle wounds, wearing them like a badge of honor. 

Maria logged onto her computer quickly and sent a message to Tommy: 

‘I need you to get a message to Joel as I know it’s their day they Skype. There was an incident today involving Y/N and that other medic that we all knew was a snake. She’s fine, she just has orders to get checked out by the medics and give her statement to our sergeant. I’m not sure if she’ll feel up to Skyping but I just know you told me about Joel's anxiety. I just don’t want him to worry if he calls and she doesn’t answer. Thank you, talk soon. xx’ 

She then ran to catch up with you. 

Joel’s POV

He woke up that sweet Sunday morning at 6 am, excited to hear from you today at around 8 am, which was your normal scheduled time if Sundays went easy for you.  

It had only been two days since you two last spoke but for him, it felt like an eternity, he loved the normal scheduled Sunday Skype sessions, but the ones where you or he would randomly say, ‘I miss you, do you have time to talk?’ made him begin to fall in love with you more and more, and the comfort you brought to him, he had no words for it. Even from thousands of miles away, you became an integral part of his life, of his being. 

He saw that you messaged him earlier in the day for you before you started your shift: 

‘I can’t wait for tonight cowboy! Hope you are sleeping well! 😘’

He smiled and typed back: 

‘I’ll see you soon sweetheart. I miss you. ❤️’

A few moments later as he was walking down the stairs he got a text message from Tommy: 

‘Hey, you up?’ 

He texted back almost immediately: 

‘Yeah, just about to cook some breakfast before I Skype with Y/N…’ 

Within seconds he had an incoming call from his brother, he answered, “Hey what’s up?” he smiled softly, walking the rest of the way down the stairs. 

“Mornin’... hey uh.. I just got a message from Maria about Y/N...” Tommy said sadly and softly, trying not to set off alarm bells for Joel.

Joel felt his heart drop into his stomach, “What? What do you mean? W-what’s wrong?” 

Tommy sighed softly, “Maria said not to panic or worry, she’s fine, she just wanted me to pass along a message to you. I’m going to text you a screenshot of her message, ok?” 

Joel put Tommy on speaker and opened up his messages from Tommy, “Yeah, send it.” he said, feeling sick to his stomach. 

Tommy sent it, “She sent this about 3 hours ago. I’m not sure what’s going on. Maria said she’d keep me updated, I just messaged her asking for an update but she’s still offline.” 

Joel read through the message, twice. “Fuck, what’s that weasel's name, Braedon?” he could feel his anger bubble up, the want to protect you but not being able to from this distance was something he was constantly battling internally. 

“Yeah, that’s him.” Tommy sucked in some air and sighed, “Maria has said there was something off about him for a couple of weeks now. He must’ve shown his true colors.” 

Joel huffed, frustrated, “Yeah, just did it on my girl… god if I was there I’d-” 

Tommy let out a chuckle, “I know, you and me both brother.” 

Joel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Thanks for the update, just let me know if Maria messages back and I’ll let you know if I hear from Y/N…” 

“Sounds good, will do. Talk to you later.” Tommy said softly before ending the call. 

Joel sighed and shook his head but then decided he wasn’t going to let his consume him, if Maria said you were ok, you were ok.

He started to make breakfast for himself as Sarah had spent the night at a friend's. 

About an hour later he heard from Tommy via text: 

‘Hey, Maria just messaged me, she said she has 2 broken ribs and a bunch of bruised ones, a fractured nose, a small split on her lip, and a small concussion. They gave her a sedative and she’s sleeping for the rest of the night.’ 

Within ten seconds he got another text from Tommy: 

‘HOWEVER…’

Then another paragraph came through: 

‘She said you should see the other guy. I guess Y/N beat the shit out of him. He has 3 broken ribs, several bruised ones, a broken nose, a broken cheekbone, missing 2 teeth, a concussion, a bruised trachea, and get this… a testicular tear. 🤣 Maria said she hit him so hard in the balls that he has a severe bruise and it has torn the protective tissue. He needs surgery for it, LOL. Atta girl 🎉’ 

Joel chuckled which turned into a guttural laugh the more he read the injuries you inflicted on this piece of shit. 

‘Shit. Remind me to never piss her off… haha. Did Maria say when she might be awake? I’d like to check on her.’ 

‘She said she’d be out the rest of the night for them, I’d say send her a message later tonight, maybe she’ll be awake tomorrow morning for them…’

Joel nodded and sent a thumbs-up emoji back to Tommy before thinking of what to do to fill the rest of his day, then he got an idea. 

He grabbed his truck keys and headed to the store. 

He got back home a few hours later and started putting everything together. He had grabbed a big box, a sympathy card, a nice fluffy blanket, some of your favorite snacks you had mentioned to him, some icy hot cream, some fuzzy socks with whales on them, some face masks he found on sale, and a candle that he thought smelled like him. 

He wrote in the sympathy card:

‘Rest in Peace: Braedon’s ball sack. Cause of death: his own damn fault and my girl standing on business.

I’m sorry to hear you got hurt darlin’. I’m sending this while you’re sleeping off being sedated. Hopefully, you’re feeling much better by the time you get this, but I just wanted to send some stuff that I’d get you if you were actually, well here. 

Sarah says you can never go wrong with a nice fluffy blanket. I also got you some of your favorite snacks that I know you’ve been missing since being there. I thought some icy hot would be something ya’ll don’t have on hand and thought it might bring you some relief. Fuzzy socks, with whales, obviously. I thought since Sarah likes these face masks, you might enjoy them too… you can do them with Maria, I sent a few. Finally, a candle. Now something that brings me comfort when I am hurt or sick is cuddling someone that brings me comfort and just inhaling in their shampoo or perfume, their scent. I thought maybe since I can’t be there, this might be a good placeholder. It’s the closest I could tell that smelled like me. Sarah said a mix of eucalyptus and spearmint, so this was the closest to that. :) 

Get well soon. I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself, just know in the future, I’ll be the one breaking bones for you. I’ll protect you so you don’t ever have to go through this again. I promise. 

With all my love, 

Joel’

He didn’t hesitate or think twice about the last part, he meant it with every part of him. He knew neither of you was ready to say the big three words, but this was close enough to express it. 

He packed everything in nicely and tightly and then wrote your address and left with it to go to the post office to drop it off. 

By the time he got home from the post office, it was 5 pm and the Cowboys game was on. Ironically playing the Broncos. 

He kept checking his phone and laptop for any update or message from you or Tommy, but nothing had come in. 

It was 9 pm when he started to head upstairs to bed. He started to brush his teeth and wash his face when he heard the beautiful sound of a ‘ding’ from his laptop. He dried off his face quickly and got into bed, sitting against the headboard, eagerly opening up his laptop to see a message from you:

‘Hey cowboy, you still up? ❤️’ 

He immediately hit the call button, desperate to see you. 

Within a couple of seconds, a dark screen came on, and your camera turned off. “Hey handsome.” he couldn’t see if but you were smiling softly. 

“Hey sweetheart… I uh… I can’t see you… can you turn your camera on for me?” he said softly. 

You swallowed, and took a breath, “Joel… it’s bad… I…” 

“I don’t care, I need to see you, please let me see your beautiful face darlin’...” his brown eyes pleading with you, he looked so damn cute when he looked at you like that. 

“I… it’s going to be hard to see me, the lights are all off due to my concussion.” you tried to make excuses, you knew it would be hard and upsetting for him to see you like this. 

“Baby I don’t care if I can only see that bright smile of yours, I just… I need to know you’re ok. Please?” he smiled softly, trying to plead his case. 

You gently chuckled but then winced at the pain caused by that in your ribs, “Ah.. fuck… right, can’t laugh.” you let out a breath.

You turned on the camera, you had an Army hoodie on, hood over your head, Joel could see your face fully due to the brightness of your screen being illuminated against your skin. 

His eyes turned sad and he winced, “Oh god… sweetheart. I… what happened?” he reached out and touched the screen like he was trying to touch you, “Tell me what happened baby…”

You rolled your shoulders back and tried to stretch your back, sore. You sighed gently then softly smiled at how he was being, gentle and loving. “Long or short story handsome?” 

“Tell me everything baby, I have nothing but time for you…” he softly smiled back. 

You told him everything, at least the details you could remember, some of it was fuzzy, but how it started, you would never forget. You explained how he most likely will be dishonorably discharged if you file charges against him for aggravated assault and hate speech. Sarge wanted you to think about it and let him know later today. 

“You are filing charges against him, right? I mean he… he put hands on you, fuckin’ spit on your face.” he started to get upset as he realized the utter disrespect he gave you by spitting on you, that alone didn’t sit well with Joel. 

You nodded, “Yeah, of course I am. I don’t much care about me getting a few bumps and bruises, I’m more upset about what he said about Z. That’s what filled me with rage, not by being knocked on my ass, it was that fucking…” you visually were getting more upset, anger festering up. 

“Hey hey, it's ok baby, take a breath…” he said softly. 

You sighed and gripped the bridge of your nose, “I just… I’ve never felt so angry, you know? I… I don’t remember doing half the things I was told I did. I almost killed him at one point they said, one slight movement and boom, broken neck.” you closed your eyes, softly chuckled and then immediately winced again. “I mean, I’ve been beat up before, I know how to take a hit, I know how to take one and stay down, hell that’s why I joined. Came into boot camp with bruised ribs, I’m sure I had a concussion too from the jackass, but that’s not what fueled me.” you shook your head and clenched your jaw. “Sayin’ something that vile, about Z? A kid? That doesn’t just slide off so easily…”

There was a pause, some silence followed by Joel softly speaking up.

“Darlin’, what do you mean you were beat up before you joined?” Joel asked, sadly looking at you. 

You hadn’t shared that part of your past with him yet, you never found the right time, it just seemed too heavy to bring up. 

You looked at him and sighed before instinctually looking down, embarrassed and for some reason nervous, “I umm..” you swallowed the lump in your throat, tears starting to surface, “His name is Charlie. I, unfortunately, was trapped with him for quite some time. He was my ex, that turned into… well a monster.” you bit the inner part of your cheek, “There’d be days he’d lock me in a room or I’d be so beaten I wouldn’t be able to move. He uh.. he was very emotionally, and mentally abusive but mostly physically abusive.” you looked at him, tears streaming down your face, and took a breath, fiddling with the string of the hoodie, you hadn’t thought of him since meeting Joel, you found such solace and security being in his life. He never made you feel unsafe or undesirable. “The night that I left for good…” your bottom lip quivered. 

“Baby, it’s ok, you don’t need t-” Joel softly began. 

“No, I do. You deserve to know Joel.” you cut him off and then bit your lip gently, “The night I left, he beat me within an inch of my life. I was coughin’ up blood, barely passed my physical.” you scoffed. “I honestly only made it out alive because he stopped beating me to get the damn takeout he ordered.” you swallowed hard, tears streaming down, you wiped them gently. “When he passed out, I took my shoes, keys, and wallet, and never looked back. I don’t even have a phone when I get back… hell I don’t even have a home to go back to.” You hysterically let out a sad chuckle, then instantly reached down and held your rib cage and groaned, “I just drove and drove and when I saw the recruiting office, I parked my car there, signed on the dotted line, and took the bus to Fort Jackson.” you let out a heavy sigh, “I joined so he wouldn’t find me. I… I filed charges against him numerous times but his buddies worked at the sheriff’s office and nothing ever seemed to stick. I knew I needed to disappear. Plus, I thought that I would have some job experience for when I would get out in the real world if I joined.” you shrugged. “I’m sorry I never told you, it just seemed too heavy to bring up randomly and I guess I was just avoiding letting you know that dark part of my past.”

Joel just sat and listened, supportively nodding and taking in everything you shared with him. 

“Baby, have nothing to be sorry for.” he began, “No one will ever hurt you like that, ever again, do you understand me?” he softly said when you finished speaking, and you nodded. 

“I will never lay hand on you, and if I ever do, you better leave me after you did what you did to that fool, Braedon. What was it? Testicular contusion with a scrotal tear?” he questioned. 

You chuckled and nodded through tears, wincing again. “Stop makin’ me laugh, it hurts!” you teased.. 

Joel chuckled and apologized and then smiled lovingly at you, “I promise, this will be the last time, at least until you’re here with me, that a man will ever lay hands on you, yeah?” 

You smiled lovingly back and nodded, that three-word phrase edging itself on your tongue for the first time. Neither of you had made anything official but it felt like it was an unsaid thing, you know? You both adored each other and from a distance took care of each other. You had both just seamlessly fit together, into each other's routines, expectations and so much more. He felt like your best friend and you were sure he felt the same about you. You had never felt this way about someone before, it scared you but it also felt so freeing. He made you feel like yourself again, she had been lost for so long since Charlie, but Joel brought her out. 

He looked at you like there was something worth looking at. 

He blushed softly, “You make me really happy, you know that?” 

You shrugged and looked away shyly, “Never coulda’ guessed…” you teased and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “You make me really happy too, cowboy.”

He bit his lip trying to contain his smile, “I like when you call me cowboy too, it uh..” he cleared his throat, looking down shyly, “It’s somethin’ only you have called me. It uh… makes me feel all types of ways darlin’.” he peeked up at you with those big brown eyes, you felt your cheeks heat up and a heat start to form between your legs. 

You shyly looked down, “I can relate to that same feeling when you look at me with those big brown eyes of yours...”

He chuckled softly and licked his lips, “I’ll be sure to remember that for future reference.” he started to smirk. 

You blushed and smiled widely but then winced, “Ah, damn it, can’t smile and laugh, this sucks.” 

He looked at the time, “Do you have to work today?” 

You shook your head, “They are tryna tell me to take the day off but we are short-handed already with Braedon now being in critical care adding to the load we have to deal with. I think I’m fine, I’d take it easy.” 

Joel raised an eyebrow, “You? Take it easy? Darlin’ takin’ it easy is somethin’ I’ve never seen you do since you’ve been there.” he chuckled, “Take a day, rest. I’m sure if the world turns upside down they’ll come to get you but you don’t need to work, you need to get better.” he softly said, “Please, at least take today off, for me?” he used those big brown eyes. 

You shook your head and softly chuckled again, “You are awful cowboy…” you winced. “Usin’ those brown eyes to your advantage, again. But I’m sure you also just saw the time and know if I don’t work, you’ll get more time with me…” you looked at him with your arms folded, raising your eyebrow, which he found adorable. 

“You are not 100% wrong sweetheart, but no, I’d let you rest, get some more sleep…” he grinned, “And just call you again later.” he winked. 

You bit your lip and shook your head, looking down, “You’re lucky I like you so much cowboy.” you looked back up at him, “Alright, deal. I’ll rest up and then call you back again when you get up to talk shortly before you have to go to work.” 

“You seem to forget darlin’, I own the company, I can be as late as I want to if it means I’m talkin’ to you.” he smiled. 

You raised your eyebrow and smirked, “Mmm I seem to remember you have a consultation and monthly meeting tomorrow with your crew, all before 9 am. You sure you can just… roll in late to those, handsome?” 

“For you, absolutely…” he said with zero hesitation or doubt in his voice. 

You shook your head smiling like an idiot, not caring that it hurt, and teasingly rolled your eyes, “Get to sleep handsome, you’ve got a big day tomorrow. Call me after your meetings, and I’ll get some more rest. Sound like a plan?” 

He nodded and sighed dramatically, “Fine, deal. I’ll talk to you then.” 

“Good. Sweet dreams cowboy.” you softly said. 

“I will sweetheart, as you’re always in ‘em” he winked.

You bit your lip shyly, “And you in mine. G’night”

“Goodnight sweetheart.” 

You hadn’t slept so well in a long time, and just like you said, you were with him in your dreams, wishing it would soon come true. 

2 weeks later 

You did as you promised and took the rest of that day off, in fact, Joel convinced you to take another day as your pain management was still balancing out. He would check in on you via video chat or messages. He continued to prove he was your rock. He wasn’t going anywhere and even from a distance he provided you with a level of comfort, security, and love that you had never felt. 

When you got his care package a few days ago, you have never felt so happy in your life. This man went out and not only gathered things but things with a purpose and reason behind them. He remembered the candy and chips you missed. You had only mentioned them in passing, but he remembered. The candle sent you over the edge emotionally. You laid in your bed that afternoon, tears streaming down your face, eyes closed, holding the candle by your face, wishing, dreaming it was him next to you. You prayed the smell would last until you were back home and could travel to see him. You said you wouldn’t light it for that specific purpose, to make it last. 

You hung the card next to his picture on your mirror and looked at the last part constantly, ‘with all my love’... your heart was so full and you knew as soon as you could get home, you wanted nothing more than to be with him. You loved him too, and couldn’t wait to tell him when you were able to say it against his lips or in his arms. 

Your injuries slowly but surely healed. You still had issues with your ribs, but you would for a while, but your face and nose healed up nicely. 

You pressed charges against Braedon, and after he was medically released he was sent back home. Maria said that she had heard he was trying to press charges against you when you went and discussed it with your commanding officer, they agreed with you, you were acting out of self-defense, and just because he couldn’t defend himself, didn’t mean your actions were like his, assault. However, your commanding officer and you did have a laugh and he told you if there was ever a next time, maybe pull back before you hit them in the balls so hard you lessen their chance to have kids. You said you’d try. 

Joel had sent you pictures of the rocking chair he was working on, Sarah even took some of him sanding some wood down and you couldn’t wait to thank her personally for them as it was Joel in his element. Not only that but you couldn’t help but note that he had his biceps flexed, his shirt tightly fitted, he was somewhat sweaty, and wore the most irresistible jeans that hugged him perfectly. You may have kept that one under your pillow and used it late at night when you couldn’t sleep and needed to relieve some tension. 

You went back to work full time and continued writing letters to Joel, sending photos you and Maria took. The last few were a little shorter than normal as you two had already spoken to him 3 times this week for at least 2 hours each time, there wasn’t much to write about, but you still wanted to keep up the routine you had, as you loved it was something just between you two. 

He mentioned in his last letter that when you got home he would take some work off to spend time with you and wanted to know what you wanted to do in that time, he had a few ideas he said but also wanted to do things you wanted to do as well. You wrote back a few days ago that you wanted him to take you dancing as in one of the last calls you had, he was cooking dinner and had music on in the background and started dancing to make you laugh, he also told you that he and Tommy knew how to line dance and won an award when they were younger, so dancing was a must. You told him you also wanted to host a barbeque with him for Sarah, Tommy, and Maria, and maybe some neighbors too, you wanted to try his baby back ribs he kept going on about and you mentioned you made a really good mac and cheese, the two could be good together. You also asked what his ideas were, wanting to know a sneak peek.

—

August 4, 2004

14:43 

You were taking inventory of supplies when your commanding officer came over, you stood to attention and saluted him. 

“At ease soldier.” he said sternly. 

You stood and put your hands behind your back, still standing respectfully, “Sir?” 

“Pack your things, you and your partner are going to aid Delta 42.” 

Delta 42. Instantly your stomach sank. 

You all had heard of the destruction and loss of lives that happened there. You all called it ‘no man's land’ - no one made it out. 

“Sir, may I ask how long this assignment is? To prepare?” you could feel your anxiety rising. 

“3 days. You have 3 days to find a superior officer that has sent a distress signal and transport him back here before we pull you out with or without him and god willing with both of you still alive…” he said so unemotionally, so matter of factly, he knew he was sending you and Maria to your possible death. 

“Sir, do we have coordinates?” you said, starting to disassociate. 

“Everything will be given to you en route. You have 15 minutes…” he nodded and then turned to leave. 

You felt your heart race start to race and your breathing became quick and panicked. 

‘Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth’ your mind annoyingly reminded you. You did so a few times and focused on calming your heart rate down. 

“Ok… 15 minutes.” you put your clipboard down and ran out of the supply closet towards your bunkhouse. You changed quickly into your gear and then packed what you needed into your bag. You grabbed the photo you have on your mirror of Joel and Sarah and put it into your vest pocket that laid over your heart. Maria came running in shortly after, doing the same thing. Both of you frantically getting your bearings, panicking internally.

You looked at the time, 8 minutes. 

Joel and Z. You needed to alert both of them to the situation. 

Joel first. You did the math quickly in your head, it was close to 1 am where he was, so you tried calling him, no answer. 

“Fuck. Please answer…” you said to the screen. 

You tried calling again, no answer, status: offline. 

You looked at Maria, she was trying the same thing with Tommy, “You getting him either?” 

She shook her head and sighed. 

You slammed your hands against the desk, frustrated, feeling so much pressure, “Fuck! 15 minutes isn’t enough!” 

You looked at the time, 5 minutes. 

You frantically typed:

‘Joel, I was just notified that Maria and I are being sent on an immediate field assignment. Please answer… I need to talk to you.’  

You waited for 30 seconds, watching the clock climb closer to the time you needed to leave. 

‘Joel, baby, please answer me.’ 

You tried calling again, no answer. 

You sighed heavily and tears began to fall against your cheeks. You had so much to say to him in case you didn’t make it back. You needed to hear his voice one more time. 

You took a breath and looked over at Maria, she had no luck either. 

You swallowed and debated telling him how severe this was, you didn’t want him to stress for the next few days, but you wanted to say things that would only be said in the event of something serious happening. 

You were having an internal battle with yourself that you couldn’t afford to have with the little time you possessed. 

Fuck it. 

‘I will be back in 3 days. 3 days. I’ll come back to you, I promise. And if by some cruelty I break that promise, just know, you have never left my mind since we met and you won’t until my last breath. You are my waking thought, my sweet dream, and everything in between.’

‘You will always be the one I long for, the love I would cross the universe to find.’ 

You sobbed, genuinely not knowing if you would now get the chance to say those three words to him, the words he deserves to know you felt for him. 

‘I love you cowboy, and I’ll do everything I can to get back to you to tell you that in person.’ 

You looked at the clock, 3 minutes, you cursed as you shut your laptop “I need to find Z.” you said to yourself and Maria before grabbing your bag and rifle and running out of the bunkhouse. Maria running after you shortly after. 

You had no idea where to find him, you hadn’t seen him all day. 

“Z?” you frantically looked in the med tent for him, but he wasn’t there. 

“Z!” you shouted, Maria as well. 

Reggie looked at you both, confused and now concerned seeing how frantic you both were, “What’s going on?” 

You looked at Reggie, and you had tears welling up, “We are going to no man’s land. Where’s Z?” 

Reggie’s face dropped, “I uh, I don’t know, he usually is by the field if he’s not here…” You instantly bolted that way, you had less than two minutes before you needed to be on that aircraft. 

“Z! Azzami!!” you practically screamed, trying to spot him as you ran. 

Maria shouted at you “Y/N, we gotta go! We can’t wait any longer… Reggie will tell him!” 

You stopped and looked back at her “I- we… what if we don’t make it back?” you sobbed. 

“He knows. He already knows we love him.” Maria said, tears streaming down her face as well. 

You dropped to your knees, feeling defeated by the situation, so you yelled out loud in frustration, hurting your lungs and ribs. This isn’t supposed to happen. 

Maria felt the same way and came up to you and touched your shoulder, “We need to go. We are going to be late.” 

You looked at her and took a deep breath then wiped your eyes and shoved everything down and stood back up. “We’re making it back, together, yeah?” 

Maria put her forehead against yours and nodded, “Yeah, you and me. We got this.” 

You nodded, “Ok, let’s go.” then you both took off running towards the aircraft waiting to take the both of you to the next three days of absolute hell. 

Joel’s POV

Joel woke up to getting texts and calls from Tommy, at 5 am. He had at least another hour to sleep but when he turned over and looked at his phone he saw he had 4 missed calls and 9 messages from Tommy. 

His heart dropped, his breathing hitched and he immediately thought about you. 

He scrambled out of his bed, knocking things off his nightstand, and ran downstairs to his office, opening up to laptop. 

He saw 8 notifications on his Skype. 

“Fuck.” he opened up yours and his chat log and started reading. 

Tears started to gather in his eyes, his heart pounding as he read, panicking by how you were talking. Where were you going? What danger are you getting thrown into? Thousands of thoughts swarmed his mind and then they all stopped when he read,

‘I love you cowboy, and I’ll do everything I can to get back to you to tell you that in person.’

He couldn’t help but smile for a moment, holding onto that feeling, that you love him, but he was brought right back to reality and fell to his knees and softly sobbed.

This can’t be happening. I can’t lose her. I love her and never got the chance to say it back. He thought to himself. He didn’t know what to do, he felt so helpless, everything was out of his control. 

His phone buzzed again against his desk, a call from Tommy. 

He grabbed it and leaned up against the wall behind his desk, the room dark, the house silent, Sarah still peacefully asleep. 

He sighed and leaned his head against the wall behind him, “Hey…” 

Tommy seemed just as distraught to Joel’s surprise. He knew Tommy and Maria liked each other as you told him in confidence but he didn’t know it was like this. 

“What did Y/N say? Maria said they were going on a field assignment, some idiot general sent a distress signal and they are sending them in to get him, she said it would be a few days… Joel she was sayin’ things...” his voice cracked. 

“I know.” Joel sniffled. “Y/N said similar things…” he chuckled sadly. “Things you only say if you think you’re about to die.” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tommy please tell me what the hell is going on, what did they get thrown into, what are their odds?” he said softly.

Tommy sighed, sniffing as well, “Depending on the area, they could be going into an active combat zone, or they could just be going on a wild goose chase, with the possibility of being an open target. I don’t know man, I just know for them to send only two medics means they want less attention drawn which to me means they could be going into active combat for which they’ll most likely be going in with a combat specialist to assist.” 

Joel sighed, “Ok, so if they do go with someone trained in combat that’s better than nothing, right?” 

Tommy bit his inner cheek, “I guess, I just… why them?” 

“They are some of the best in their area and Reggie right now is partnerless. Y/N said he isn’t supposed to get someone ‘til next week, they can’t send him solo.”

Joel was right, they won’t send Reggie alone and they weren’t going to separate you and Maria. However whether you liked it or not, you two had the lowest mortality rate in the region and worked well as a team. It was a no-brainer to send you on this assignment. 

“Will you keep me posted if you hear anything sooner and I’ll do the same?” Tommy asked. 

“Of course. I’ll uh.. See you in a few hours at the office, yeah?” Joel scratched his head, he was now up for the day, and he wouldn’t be able to sleep with this news. And he didn’t sleep very well for the next 3 days. 

Reader’s POV

As soon as you and Maria got into the aircraft and buckled in, it took off. 

Maria and you looked down at the open door, watching you fly away from what you knew as safety. 

You turned your head and noticed another soldier across from you, looking stoic, and composed.  

The pilot came on the intercom, “We are headed to Delta 42, this is an active combat zone. Everything will be there, tanks, snipers, missile strikes, you are going to no man’s land!” 

You took deep breaths, trying to stay calm, get into the zone, and focus. 

“Private Coleman is Special Forces, para-rescue. He’s going to be your protection and guide. Your jobs are to not only get out with Captain Williams but get all 3 of you as well out alive.” 

Coleman nodded at you both and gripped his rifle closer to himself, “Good to meet ya’ll. Let’s make it back home, yeah?” 

You and Maria both nodded, cracking a smile, “I like your attitude.” you said over the comms. “We are on a first-name basis, I’m Y/N and this is my partner, Maria.” you tapped Maria with your elbow, and she nodded. 

“I’m Jack.” he looked out the window. “We are going to touch down, we are all 3 going to get out and run to the southwest wall, from there we will gather our bearings and make a plan. We have at least a 5-mile radius to cover before we get to Captain’s coordinates.” he looked back at you two, “Any questions?” 

“Yeah, how are you not shitting yourself right now?” Maria asked, internally freaking out. 

Jack laughed, “I’ve been in and out of here 4 times ladies, I’ve already done that the first two times…” 

A brief wave of relief washed over you. He’s been here 4 times. Someone that knows the area and threats, we’re gonna be ok, you told yourself over and over internally. 

The pilot came on comms, “Alright, we are descending, get ready!” 

You all three unbuckled and grabbed your things, strapping your backpack on and putting your rifle over you, pulling out your necklace charm from under all your gear, putting it to your lips, and kissing it. 

You grabbed a bar above your head to hold on and watched as the aircraft descended slowly towards the ground. 

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly. 

“I have heat signatures coming from your east, take cover as soon as your feet hit the ground!” the pilot said through the comms system before shouting “Now! Go! Go!” 

You all three jumped out, the aircraft about 3 feet from the ground. 

As soon as your feet hit, the aircraft took a sharp turn and started firing rounds to your east. You all three ran immediately to find cover. 

You felt a bullet fly past your left arm. You fell to the ground to take cover then rolled onto your back and sat your head up to look through your scope, saw the target, and pulled the trigger, landing a blow the their shoulder. 

You stood back up and ran towards Maria and Jack to catch up. 

You all made it to the southwest wall. Explosions and gunfire happening all around you. 

Jack shouted, “Ok, the sooner we get this sack of shit, the sooner we can get out of here! We are to move up south to these coordinates, that’s where his distress signal was sent from.” he showed his GPS. 

“What happens if we get there and he’s dead?” you asked. 

“Still need to get him home! We call for an airborne rescue and take the body…” he shouted back. 

You nodded and ducked as something hit the wall above you knocking debris onto you. 

“Alright, let’s get to work!” he smiled and started walking towards the destination. 

–

For the past two days, you’ve been shot at, missiles and grenades exploding around you. You don’t know if your hearing will ever be the same. You helped those that were wounded around you and then would instruct them if they could make it out the southeast wall and travel north there was a safe haven camp 2 miles that way. Anyone however who was not an Allied force and injured was immediately killed by Jack. He had no empathy for the enemy, and after what you had seen, neither did you. 

You were less than a mile from the Captain’s coordinates when you heard someone from behind you, as you turned to see, you were cut in the arm by a knife, “Fuck!” you saw a man with a hand knife make another swing at you, you stepped back and shot his knee cap to disarm him, he fell to the ground and then before you could do anything else Jack shot him in the chest.  

You stood there in shock for a second, breathing sharp and fast. 

That could have ended so much differently, I could have died. You thought. You gripped your rifle, trying to ground yourself, but then quickly turned to the side and vomited. 

“You good?” Maria asked, touching your shoulder. 

You nodded and wiped your mouth with your hand, “Yeah, just nerves and starving… not a good mix.”

Jack looked at you both then you, “You’re bleeding…” 

You looked at your arm, “Shit.” 

Maria looked at you and pulled out her kit, “I got it. You’ll need to clean it when we get home but here…” She sprayed some bacterial spray and then wrapped it with some gauze and tape. “That’ll hold.” she softly smiled at you and you smiled at her, “Thanks partner.” she nodded. 

“We have until the morning to get to the coordinates. Let’s take a 2-hour break, get something in our systems, rest up, and then push through the night, yeah?” 

You nodded and so did Maria. 

You all found a small abandoned house and took turns taking 30-minute naps, grabbed something to eat from your packs, and got something to drink. 

You took off your helmet, put it in your lap, and leaned your head against the wall behind you. Almost there, just a little bit longer. 

You pulled out the picture of Joel and Sarah and smiled softly. The house you were in shook as a nearby explosion happened, you ducked your head down and instinctually grabbed your necklace.

Once the shaking stopped you looked back at the picture and gently brushed your finger against it, thinking of what life will be like with them once you’re out of here. Holding onto that, keeping that in the back of your head for the next 24 hours. 

Jack stood up and pulled a map out of his pack, “Ok, we are right here.” he pointed to an area on the map, “Williams is here.” he pointed to another location a little further south. You and Maria looked at the map. 

“What if we went down this road? It's covered by overhead coverings… looks like it may have been a marketplace before…” you pointed to a road to the east of your location which would lead directly to the coordinates, “It would give us cover to move faster and avoid getting hit potentially from above?” 

Jack looked at your suggestion, “Maria, any suggestions?” he looked her way. 

She shook her head, “If she suggests we go that way, I trust her suggestion.”  

Jack looked at you, and took a breath, thinking, “My only concern is if it was a marketplace and has that overhead coverage, it might be a camp base for the enemy.” 

You thought for a second, “What if we threw a smoke bomb in? If anyone would be in there, it would create movement, and if it’s invaded, we just walk away and go just up here?” pointing to the main road. “Main road will take longer but it’ll be plan B. The hope would be this road works…” 

Jack nodded, “That’ll work. How many smoke bombs do we have?” 

“We each have two, that’s 6 total. We have maybe a thousand yards to location… if we throw one every 150 yards we can scope out targets and create a cover for us.” Maria said. 

Jack looked at you and Maria, “That’ll work.” he nodded, “Ok, pack up, we can use the lack of light tonight for further coverage.” 

You both nodded and gathered your things. You put your helmet back on and put the photo back in your vest pocket after kissing it gently. 

Jack looked at you then Maria, “If anything happens to me, you need to grab my radio, and once you get to Willams, carry him to a rooftop nearby and turn to channel 5. Call for Alpha 402, tell them where you are, and they will send a rescue aircraft within minutes.” 

You both nodded. 

He nodded back and then you all started heading to the road you hoped to take. Praying this would be a simple task now that you’ve made it this far, hoping this would be over soon. 

—

You made it down the road with 4 smoke bombs and no movement, you had around 200 yards to go. You kept telling yourself that was easy, that’s 2 football fields. 

Jack threw the 5th smoke bomb and waited, scoping out and watching the terrain in front of you. No movement, no sound, it was quiet. 

Too quiet. 

“We need to run…” Jack said all of a sudden. 

“What?” Maria said, not grasping what he said. 

“There’s no sound, no birds, nothing, something is going to happen. We need to run,” he said quietly. 

All of sudden you heard sirens, sirens signaling only one thing. 

“Fuck. Run!” Jack said running, you grabbed Maria’s hand and pulled her with you. 

You ran for your life. The sirens got louder the more you ran. 

Jack yelled “Over here!” he cut to the left and like a miracle you saw someone peeking out for the rubble, it was the Captain. 

You and Maria immediately ran over to him and knelt, you quickly checked his pulse, it was weak but there. 

You looked and saw he had an abdominal injury as well as a broken leg.

“Maria, splint the leg fast, I’ll pack the abdominal wound.” you looked up around you for the tallest building. 

“Jack, call for air support immediately after we finish addressing these injuries to that building…” you nodded towards a tall building. 

He nodded and kept a lookout, “We need to get him moved, hurry!” 

You packed the wound as best you could and gave him a shot of morphine quickly. Maria splinted the leg and also sprayed it with that same antibacterial spray. 

“Ok done.” you said, looking at Maria. 

“Me too, done.” she said. 

Jack pulled out his radio and called for air support, expressing that you were in the middle of a possible missile drop and that air support was needed immediately. 

You stood up and grabbed Williams, picking him up like you did with Terrance. “Let's go, we have stairs to fucking climb, and I wanna get the fuck home…” you said straining starting to walk towards the building. As you entered the building you heard gunshots from behind you, you turned to find Maria on the ground, bleeding. 

“Maria!” you shouted.

Jack shot back towards where the shots were coming from and then took cover in the building you were in, “Let’s go! She’s gone.” 

You shook your head, you could tell she was still alive, “No, she needs help! Jack, she needs help!” 

“Listen I’m not here to get her to safety, I’m here to get him. We need to move.” he pushed you towards the stairs. 

You looked at him in disbelief, anger brewing, “Then you get him out. I’m not leaving without her.” you set the Captain down, grabbed the radio he had on his belt, and started walking back out.  

“You’ll never make it! Don’t be stupid!” Jack shouted as he lifted the Captain over his shoulder. 

“She’s my sister, I’m not leaving her…” you said as you ran back out to her. 

Maria was 20 feet from the building. A few shots went past you, you shot back a few times and then threw the last one of your smoke bombs to create some cover. 

You got to her and dragged her to some cover nearby. She was shot in the shoulder and stomach. 

“You need to go, leave me.” she said, breath ragged and uneven. 

“Maria shut up. I’m not leaving you.” you said, putting pressure on her stomach. 

You looked up at the sky and didn’t see a plane coming in yet, you had time. 

You hurried and gave her a shot of morphine and then packed her abdomen, “I’m going to carry you. We’re going to make it. I need you to take my pistol and shoot anyone you see behind us until we get into that building, got it?”

Maria shook her head, tears streaming, “Y/N, please, you need to leave me, I’m dead weight.” 

“Maria, I made a promise to your parents I would take care of you, and you and I made a deal on that fucking plane we were both making it back, now shut up and say you’ll cover my back!” you shouted at her, focusing on packing her wound. 

She looked at you, tears streaming, she was scared. 

“I’m not leaving without you.” you looked at her, and shook your head, “You would do the same for me.” 

She nodded, and chuckled, “You’re so annoyingly stubborn.” 

You chuckled and smiled at her, “Yes I am, which is why we will make it out of here.” 

You finished packing her wound and then zipped her vest back up to cover it, keeping it in place, “Ok, ready?” 

She nodded and you handed her your pistol. You then grabbed a grenade you had and threw it to make some cover. You grabbed Maria’s arm swung her around your shoulders and started running to the building. 

She fired a couple of shots and from what you could tell hit something or someone. 

You got inside and looked up, you had at least 12 flights to climb, “You owe me.” you said with a chuckle before you started climbing the stairs, adrenaline driving you. More than halfway up you heard the sound of a plane nearby. 

“Fuck we gotta move. Hold onto me!” you shouted. 

She wrapped around you as best she could and gripped your vest. 

Your legs were burning, your heart pounding so hard you felt like it was going to burst, but you knew you needed to keep pushing. 

You made it to the top floor and Jack was loading the Captain in.

“Wait!” you called slamming the door open. 

Jack looked back and saw you, yelled at the pilot to hold on, and leaned out of the cockpit to help you load Maria in. 

You stepped and grabbed the handle to load yourself in when you felt something hit the side of your leg, you looked down and saw blood, “Fuck.” you looked behind you and before you could react or shoot, Jack fired a round, “Get in!” you pulled yourself in and sat on the floor. 

“Ok, Robbie let’s get the fuck out of here!” Jack shouted and you felt the plane pull up and turn towards safety. 

You immediately assessed your leg, starting to spray bacterial spray and then wrapping it with gauze and a wrap, hard-wired when seeing blood to address it. 

You looked over at Maria after and she was already looking at you. You started laughing, “We did it.” 

You chuckled which turned into a laugh, “Fuck, yeah we did!” 

Jack joined in, and you looked over at him, sarcastically saying “Fuck you, saying I wouldn’t make it.” 

He chuckled, “Shouldn’t have underestimated your stubbornness…” 

Maria laughed louder, “No, no you shouldn’t have!” 

You all three were in a fit of giggles when the pilot came through the intercom, “We need to divert to Delta 27, Delta 30 is under attack.” you all stopped laughing and you looked at Maria. 

Z and Reggie. 

You pulled yourself up and limped towards the cock pit, “What do you mean under attack?” 

“I just got a message that the enemy opened fire on it, with several casualties, it’s not safe to land.” 

Your heart immediately dropped, “But… I got people there… we have family, please, just… just drop me down, you don’t have to land, I can do a drop-off. Take them to 27… Please.” 

Jack came up behind you, “Drop us down, they’ll need reinforcements.” 

The pilot looked at you both and nodded, “Fine but just so you know you’re going back into an active combat area.” He started to turn the craft back towards your camp. 

“No disrespect sir but we were just in no man’s land, this will be nothing...” you said looking at Jack, he nodded, agreeing. 

You went back and knelt by Maria, taking her hand, “I need you to get in contact with Tommy and Joel. I need you to tell Joel I will be ok and I will call him as soon as I can but I needed to get Z and Reggie. Tell him…” you paused, thinking of what to tell him, “Tell him I meant my last message with everything in me and I’ll keep my promise, it’s just taking me longer, but I’ll make it back.” 

She nodded and looked at you, “Promise me you’ll call me when you’re somewhere safe.” 

You nodded and gripped her hand. “I promise. You get some help and stay alive until I get to you, deal?” she nodded and chuckled. 

You stood and looked at Jack, “We are looking for a kid named Z and the medic here, his name is Reggie. We get them to safety first then we reinforce.” 

He nodded, “Got it.” 

You let out a shaky breath and looked down at the camp, explosions and smoke everywhere. 

“This as close as I can get!” the pilot said. He hovered over a building, you let out the rope ladder and slid down, Jack following behind you. 

“Alright, follow me, I think I know where to find Z.” you said as you headed down the stairs.

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Taglist: @vod80 , @sarahhxx03, @blahkateisdone, @sunnytuliptime, @pedroscurls

[cowgurrrl]

Crazy Love

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic fem!reader x Ellie Williams)

Summary: Ellie has a nightmare and you and Joel help calm her down [1.3k]

Author’s note: Apparently I’ve been on my tlou found family trope kick recently

Warnings: mentions of David, nightmares, a panic attack, I can’t think of anything else!

Ellie's screams rattle you from an already light sleep and shake the house. You and Joel are out of bed and sprinting to her room before you can even think about it. She's sitting up in bed when you open her door, gasps wrenching from her throat as she struggles to breathe, and she's in your arms not even a moment later. "You're home. You're okay," you tell her as you pull her close. She curls her head into your chest and sobs loudly. "We're right here with you, baby." Joel pulls the chair from her desk to sit across from you, an ever-present but silent figure. 

This is the third time this week she's woken up screaming. Each time, it sounds like thunder splitting the sky in half. It reminds you of every terrible moment that unfolded over the year it took to get to Jackson. Your heart aches, and tears fill your eyes as you rub her back and remind her that she's safe, that you and Joel would never let anything happen to her, and that you love her. Joel rests a gentle hand on your knee when he sees your tears, and you nod at him over Ellie's head. It's hard for both of you to see her like this and know there's nothing you can do to shield her from her own mind. 

She tells you bits and pieces of her nightmare in between cries. You're able to put together the words David, fire, blood, and know what she dreamt of. "Oh, sweet girl," you murmur as you push her hair out of her face and kiss her head. You hold her to your chest, tucking her under your chin, and hum an old song quietly. Joel reaches out and rubs soothing circles into her back. After a few minutes, her sobs die down to soft sniffles, and her breathing returns to normal. 

"You okay, kiddo?" Joel asks quietly. She nods against you and pulls away enough to look at him. Her face is red and splotchy, and her eyes are swollen. 

"Just felt so real," she says. You tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear, and she takes a shaky breath. "I'm sorry I woke you guys up."

"You have no reason to apologize," Joel says in that firm, loving tone reserved for Ellie. "We get them, too."

"Yeah, but you don't wake everyone up when you do,"

"That's not true. We've probably woken each other up hundreds of times over the years." You tell her, glancing at Joel, who's nodding in agreement. Ellie looks between us and relaxes a little bit.

"Really?" 

"Really."

"Does it get better?" She asks. "Like, do they go away?" 

"I don't know if they'll ever go away, but it gets more manageable. They become less real. Sometimes, we'll still wake up cryin' and screamin', but we can't remember why. We just know it was a nightmare, and we talk about it and go back to sleep." He explains, his southern twang peeking through his words as he gets sleepier. 

"Does talking about it help?"

"Sometimes. The great thing about us three is that we went through all of that shit together, so we trust each other. We understand each other. Joel knows that cars make me nervous because of what happened in Kansas City, and I know that Joel's right hand is a little weaker than his left because it didn't heal right after we left Boston," You say. Joel makes a mock, offended face, and Ellie smiles. You swear, his eyes twinkle in the low light of her room when she does. "And I know that you are an incredibly capable girl who saw a lot of things you shouldn't have. You're still learning how to live with these things, and that's okay because we're here for you. We'll always be right down the hall." 

"Even if I have shitty table manners?" She asks at the end of your emotional, vulnerable speech, and Joel laughs. She gets that from him, you think. The sass in her question and the smirk pulling at her lips have Joel written all over them. They may not share any DNA, but that girl is a Miller through and through.

"Even if you have shitty table manners." He confirms.

"Even if I tell you puns all day?"

"Yes, that too."

"What about-"

"When you go to school tomorrow, ask your smartass teacher what the word 'unconditional' means, alright? Tell her you need a vocabulary quiz or somethin'." He says, and you laugh along with Ellie. Her face lights up, and the weight drops from her shoulders. You may not know what tomorrow will bring, but this, right now, is enough. You kiss Ellie's head again, the love you feel for her pouring out of you, and she lets you before rubbing at her eyes and yawning.

"Tired?" You ask, and she nods. "Do you want us to stay with you until you fall asleep?" 

"I think I'll be okay," she says, untangling from you and tucking herself under the covers. You and Joel stand, tell her goodnight and remind her you're not far. Right before you can close her bedroom door, she sits back up. "Could you... maybe leave it open? Just a little bit."

"Anything for you, kiddo." She smiles at your answer before finally laying back down and closing her eyes. When you turn to walk back to your bedroom, Joel cups your jaw and kisses you. Your hands rest on his chest as his smell surrounds you—something sweet and smoky and so inherently him. He kisses you slowly and deeply, stealing the air from your lungs. When you pull away, he chases your lips and kisses you once, twice, three times before looking at you. His eyes are warm and heavy with fatigue and something more. "What was that for?" You whisper, careful not to wake Ellie.

"Takin' care of her," he says. "Takin' care of us. I wouldn't have been able to do that without you." You smile and kiss him again. 

"You're getting soft on me, cowboy." You murmur against him, and he huffs a laugh.

"Now, you keep that one to yourself. I've got a reputation to uphold."

"You mean the residents of Jackson don't know that mean old Joel Miller is secretly a huge softy for his family? I'm shocked." 

"You like mean old Joel Miller."

"I love mean old Joel Miller," you say, and he smiles, creasing the corners of his eyes. "Let's go back to bed before we have to get up for patrol."  

"Yes, ma'am," he says as you untangle from each other, but he stays close, keeping a hand on your lower back as you walk to your bedroom. Together, you pick the blankets off the floor and reset the bed. When you crawl back into bed, his arms wrap around your waist, and he pulls you to his chest. It's easy to get sleepy with the human furnace holding you. 

"Were you humming Van Morrison to her?" He asks right before you can fully fall back to sleep. You have to laugh because the idea of him wracking his brain for the familiar tune through all of that is hilarious. You also have about five hours until patrol, and he's still awake, asking you about the song you were humming.

"I can't believe it took you that long to recognize it. Maybe you are losing it." You turn to look at him, and he rolls his eyes, trying to hide his smirk.

"Go to sleep."

"I'm trying. You're the one asking about Van Morrison." He doesn't fight you on getting the last word in. Instead, he kisses the back of your neck and squeezes you a little tighter. You fall asleep listening to big, scary Joel Miller humming Crazy Love into your skin like a gospel. After all these years, you have to think that maybe Van Morrison got that one right. Maybe love is enough to make us whole again. 

TUMBLR STOP DELETING MY LAST PARAGRAPH

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

The World Ended

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings: Joel Miller is hella manipulative, power imbalance, non descriptive age gap, Dub Con, smut, oral fem receiving, fingering, rough sex, P in V, Dom!Joel Miller, breeding kink adjacent if you squint and read between the lines, mentions of death of child, mentions of suicidal ideation (no more so than the show discusses), mentions of trauma, inspired by '10 Cloverfield Lane'

Word Count: 5,852

Summary: You wake up in an entirely new world, but you find comfort and love in an ally. He saved your life after all. Why wouldn't you trust him? Haunted Hoedown prompt: Stranded AU/Cult AU + "every moment might be our last, let's make the most of it."

[a/n: my contribution for haunted hoedown b/c i was inspired and couldn't resist (def cheated and ignored the days tho i just picked my fav parts of different prompts lol). 10/10 would recommend surfing that tag b/c people are making WORKS OF ART. This is just my toss it together addition lol]

"manipulation and control can sometimes be disguised as love." -abegail turingan

It was odd to wake up with no memory of going to bed. Disorienting was probably the more accurate word. Enough so that for a brief moment all you could do was stare up at the concrete ceiling above you. There was a headache lingering behind your eyes that no amount of blinking would clear away. Where were the stars? The thought drifted through your foggy mind. Your bedroom had glow in the dark stars plastered to the ceiling. A design choice that a nine year old you chose at the store, and one that your parents were never able to peel away no matter how many years had passed⏤ they were nostalgic in that sense. You must have been just like them considering you admired those cheap, plastic stars while staying in your parents’ home during this visit.

But the stars were gone.

Everything was gone, and the sharp smell of antiseptic and bleach replaced the floral scent of your mother’s detergent. You turned your head into your pillow in hopes that the comfort of your bed would ease the headache that seemed to worsen the longer you were awake. You found no comfort though because the pillow you laid on was not your own. 

Slowly, you began to sit up and you weren’t sure what was more distracting: the unexplained aching pain of all your muscles or the unfamiliar strange room you found yourself sitting in. The walls were like the ceiling, undecorated concrete, and the only bit of furniture was the metal framed cot you were now lying on. A hospital gown covered your otherwise bare body. 

The clarity that settled in your mind was stark and startling. Any of the fog you initially woke with vanished in a snap, and your breaths came in quick, hyperventilated gasps. Oh, God. Oh, God. You threw your sore legs over the edge of the bed to rise. Your feet only brushed against the cold tile of the ground before you found yourself sprawled on the floor. 

“Help…” The word left your lips in a breathless whisper as you tried to move your weak legs. You could only manage to sit up. “Help.” With every attempt, your voice grew stronger until you were screaming. “Help me! Help!”

A heavy, metal door, one across the room that you hadn’t even noticed in your panicked state, began to creak open. You sucked in a sharp breath, fear palpable, as an unfamiliar man stood in the doorway. He was older than you. Gray littered his brown, messy hair and facial hair, but it suited him. The man wore a dark green flannel that accented his broad shoulders. Everything about his figure exuded strength and intimidation from his build to the large hands that held a box of some kind. However, the moment his dark brown eyes landed on yours they softened. His shoulders hunched marginally, as if he were trying to look smaller than he actually was, and a line of worry formed between his furrowed brow.

“Hey! I need someone in ‘ere!” He barked over his shoulder, never breaking eye contact, in a deeply southern drawl. The man rushed into the room toward you, but when you flinched at his approach he slowed his pace. He took one hand off the box to hold in your direction, palm stretched outward, “It’s alright. You’re safe. Promise.” Coming from a stranger, and in this scenario, his words did nothing to calm your racing heart. You crawled backwards until your back hit the cot. Your name suddenly left his lips. “I’m⏤ My name is Joel.”

“How⏤ How do you know my name?” You gasped.

“Your license. It was in your bag. Didn’ mean to pry but…” Joel said slowly. “Are you⏤”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as you blurted out, “Where the hell am I? Why am I here? What is going on? I⏤”

“Whoa, whoa.” Joel knelt down in front of you but kept his distance which you appreciated. “One thing at a time, darlin’.” He shook his head. “You were in a car accident… ‘bout two days ago now.”

“A car accident?” As the words left your own lips, there was a flicker of some forgotten memory playing in your head. The sound of a car horn, blinding headlights, the crunch of metal on metal, and the taste of blood. You flinched, “I… Oh, God.” You held your head with a trembling hand but winced as your hand brushed against a tender spot on the left side of your face. “Is this… Is this a hospital then?” The room resembled a prison more than it did a hospital room. Plus, it made no sense to you that your parents weren’t here. The man saw your license which meant they’d know who to contact. “Where is my family?”

Joel hesitated and you saw a look of what almost looked like regret in his eyes. You repeated your question more firmly this time. He sighed, “That’s… tougher to answer.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

A second later, a man and a woman dressed in bright orange HAZMAT suits came storming into the room. It was a blur of yelling and chaos and they descended upon you. Joel argued loudly with them and your head was spinning enough that it was difficult to follow what was happening. Gloved hands wrapped around your arm, ripping you up from the ground, but it was short lived. The man who had grabbed you was shoved away by Joel who gently sat you on the side of the cot before standing in front of you as a barrier.

“Don’ you fuckin’ grab her like that.” Joel snarled. The soft kindness that had been in his tone only moments ago was gone now. “You hear me??”

“Sir, you are not supposed to be in here.” The woman snapped. “Her wounds⏤”

“Her wounds are from the accident. I already told you.”

“We still need to test her⏤”

“Fine, but you don’ jus’ fuckin’ grab ‘er like that!”

There was nothing about this moment that could be called peaceful, but Joel’s defensive stance and his deep voice somehow managed to calm your racing heart. You didn’t know why the man was so protective over you, but you’d take any ally you could in this moment. The argument continued long enough for only a few more verbal jabs at one another. It settled on Joel sitting by your side glaring at the man in the HAZMAT suit as he used two separate swabs on you. One against the wound on your forehead and the other in your mouth.

“By entering without precautionary measures, you have bought yourself another 24 hours of quarantine, Mr. Miller.” The woman announced.

Joel didn’t respond but just glared at the woman instead. The second the two of them disappeared out of the room, Joel’s features softened again. You hugged yourself, trying to keep from shaking, and swallowed the lump that now sat in the middle of your throat. “Thank you. For that.”

“Least I can do.” Joel murmured as his eyes traced your face⏤ examining your wound, you assumed. You weren’t quite sure what he meant by that, but Joel didn’t elaborate. Sitting this close to him, there was something familiar about. You weren’t sure why because you were positive you had never spoken to him before. You’d remember a face this handsome. A voice that distinct and hypnotizing. “How do you feel?”

“Um. Sore. Confused.” You admitted. Recalling how the woman addressed him, you cleared your throat. “Mr. Miller⏤”

“Joel, darlin’. Jus’ Joel.”

“Joel…” You tested the name out. “Please⏤ Please tell me what’s going on. Where am I? Where is my family? Why⏤ Why were they in HAZMAT suits?”

The stranger you were finding comfort in let out a slow sigh. He rose from the bed to pick up the box he had brought with him. You had forgotten about that entirely. Joel sat back down after opening it and offered it to you. There was a simple set of men’s clothes in the box along with a water bottle and bag of chips. He shook his head. 

“All I had were a few of my spare things.” Joel said. “Figured you might be thirsty or⏤ or hungry.”

You appreciated the gesture, but it wasn’t what you wanted right now, “Joel. What happened?”

He let out another long sigh before meeting your gaze with a look of mourning, “The world ended, darlin’.”

The bunker was large enough to fit thirty or so people. It was an underground, concrete community made by a survivalist who went by the name of Ezra. You had yet to meet this mysterious man which felt odd since the community wasn’t that large, but it wasn’t too shocking since you didn’t do much exploring since your arrival. 

The world had ended. That’s what Joel told you. Hell, that’s what everyone kept telling you, but none of them could tell you concretely how. Every time the discussion came up, there was a new story involved. Aliens had invaded. Zombies had overtaken. A virus wiped out humanity. The theories were endless and since you couldn’t remember your last moments above ground you had no opinion on the matter. The last thing you could recall was leaving the house to meet some old friends who stayed local to your hometown for drinks. You got into the car, and the next thing you remembered was waking up in a concrete room.

You hoped your memory would come back gradually, but two weeks had passed and nothing was any more clear. You mourned a muddled memory. Families and friends ripped away from you in uncertain measures, and it left you reeling. The only pillar you had right now was Joel Miller. He had saved you in more ways than one. When the world went to shit, Joel was on his way to the bunker. All the people here were either friends or they knew this Ezra character in some way and that’s how they bought themselves a ticket into this sanctuary. Joel had been the survivalist’s contractor. Helped build this place and even mocked the man when first given the job. 

But, when the world did end, Joel was offered safety and on his way there he came across your wreck on the side of the road. He scooped you up and fought for your place here with him.

You owed him your life.

The sound of a door opening snapped you out of the daze you had fallen into. Joel stepped into the shared bunk space looking worn out. While your simple duty in this community was currently food prep, Joel’s was more labored. He helped with any repairs and upkeep to ensure everything was working as it should. He dropped his tool belt by the door with a groan.

“Long day?” You asked with a small smile. Joel grunted an affirmative. He crossed the small room to drop down onto the couch. Since you were technically an add on rather than one of the invited, you were forced to share the room with Joel. Though ‘forced’ wasn’t quite the right word. You honestly didn’t mind it at all. Having a familiar face, even if it were one you only just met, brought you comfort. Though you kind of felt bad he was now stuck with you. There was no way he could’ve known saving your life off the side of the street was going to chain your existence to him.

The room was decent though. There was a simple bed in one corner, a couch pushed up against the wall, a table with two chairs, and a mostly empty drawer. Over the last two weeks, you and Joel had collected or traded objects to make the room your own. You traded a set of spare socks that had come with the room for a small, blue vase that you set in the middle of the table. Joel had even managed to find a few books and magazines that he gifted you.

You pushed up from the bed to sit on the couch beside him. You pulled your legs in to tuck under yourself. The shirt you wore was one of his flannels, you still had limited clothing options, but you had managed to scourge up a pair of yoga pants that fit you well enough. 

“You?” Joel asked as he rested his head on the back of the couch.

“Food prep was exciting as always.” You joked. Joel breathed out a small, tired chuckle. You nodded toward the bed. “Lay down. Sleep.” Joel shot you a light glare. From the beginning, Joel was adamant about sleeping on the couch so you could have the bed. Even when you told him it made more sense for him to have the bed since you were smaller. Joel wouldn’t even listen to the suggestion of swapping turns. “Joel.”

“Couch is fine.” Joel replied gruffly and closed his eyes.

“If it’s fine then I should have no issues sleeping on it, right?”

“Ain’t gonna happen.”

You set your hand on his arm and felt him slightly stiffen at your touch. Joel cracked open his eyes to peek at you. “Please take the bed tonight. Please.” He furrowed his brow and you gave his arm a squeeze. “Nothing would make me happier right now. I’m serious.”

Joel didn’t say anything to begin with. He just held your gaze and under the weight of his stare you felt the back of your neck warm. The man was painfully attractive, it couldn’t be argued, but that wasn’t what made your heart skip a beat or your core secretly ache. It was the way Joel looked at you and spoke to you. The way he treated you. If his gaze were to be believed, you must have been a work of art. Joel stared at you like a dying man watching his last sunset. His voice was always deep and honeyed when he spoke to you. The words he chose put the respect and care he had for you on clear display. 

The world ended and everything in your life felt cold, but not Joel. Joel was warmth.

Joel’s other hand settled on top of your smaller one. His thumb traced your knuckles and your throat felt tight at the contact. He gave your hand a quick squeeze and then stood up with a groan. You heard his knees crack, but he made no comment on it. Joel just leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “Thank you, baby.”

You watched him kick off his boots and drop into bed. A soft groan left his lips and he fell asleep before the lights were even off.

 The sky was blue. Your head rested on Joel’s shoulder as the two of you sat on the ground leaning back against the wall. A total of a month had passed now, and you confided in Joel that you missed the sky. In response, he brought you here. It was a restricted space that he only had access to because he would come up here to do repairs on the electrical system. In the entire bunker, it was the closest to above ground that you could be. Only one staircase and a thick, metal door separated you from the world outside. On the door was a small window and from where you sat you could see a patch of sky.

“Do you think the world really ended?” You asked softly.

Joel glanced at you without jostling your position too much, “What’dya mean?”

“The sky is too pretty for the world to have ended, don’t you think?” You mumbled. It wasn’t just the sky that created your doubt. There was a woman who worked with the mysterious Ezra. She said she would type out anything he dictated to her. She didn’t think the world had ended. She thought it was all some conspiracy or ploy. You weren’t sure how much weight you put into her words, but it left the question in your mind. “What if the world is completely normal up there and we’re just rotting away in a tomb?”

Joel shook his head. “You hear the sirens an’ gunfire. The SOS broadcasts on the radio.”

“Couldn’t that be faked?” You asked. Joel hummed in a noncommittal fashion. You shrugged, “You never told me how the world ended. Everyone else has given me their two cents, but you never talk about it.”

“Cause it doesn’ matter.”

“Why wouldn’t it matter?”

Joel was silent for a few moments, but you waited patiently for him to speak. He shifted and with your head still on his shoulder, his hand found yours. “It doesn’ matter ‘cause… my world ended two years ago.” You lifted your head so you could face him, but Joel kept his eyes on the patch of blue sky. “I… I lost my daughter. Sarah.” You squeezed his hand as your heart ached for him. “Wasn’t fair. Should’ve been me. But… But nothin’ has made much sense since.”

“Joel, I am… I am so sorry.” You whispered.

“I lied.” Joel said and your eyebrows furrowed. He swallowed nervously and finally turned to look at you. “When I found ya, I wasn’ headin’ to the bunker.”

“Where… Where were you going then?”

“Home.” Joel shrugged. “The sirens were goin’ off, people were in a frenzy, Ezra texted me some freakish invite, but… I planned on headin’ home to jus’ wait for the end.” It was devastating to hear someone you had come to care so much for admit that truth. Your heart broke for him. Not a single shred of you could ever imagine the pain or horror of losing a child. “On my way, I ran into you. Saw your car flipped on the side of the road. Once I got ya out, it’s not like I could take ya to the hospital with the way all of it was so…”

Joel motioned to the bunker around the both of you. The rest was history. In the silence, you could hear the whirring noise of the motors working the fans and the pounding of your heart in your ears. You let the hand not in his lift to rake your fingertips through the scruff on his jaw as your thumb rubbed back and forth over his cheek. Joel’s eyes fluttered closed at your touch and a soft breath left his lips. He leaned into your hand.

“I… Joel, I don’t know what to say…”

“This is ‘nough.” Joel murmured. There was a tension that had formed the second you caressed Joel’s face and it only built the longer you were in contact with him. It was a long time coming and was only coming to a head just now. You could control yourself, you were sure of it, but when Joel’s sad eyes opened once more the breath was knocked out of your lungs. His lips twitched into a small smile. “You’re the first thing I’ve cared ‘bout in a very long time, baby.”

The world had ended, supposedly. What was the use of wasted time?

You leaned in and pressed your lips against his. The kiss was soft and hesitant. A brush of you against him as Joel breathed in a strangled gasp. He pulled back and your heart dropped. Embarrassment filled your very soul as you let your hand fall away from him.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have. I just thought, every moment might be our last, we should make the most of it. Or⏤”

“It’s not that, baby girl.” Joel immediately cupped your face and you felt yourself melt between his warm, coarse hands. “You don’ owe me this. You know that, right? I don’ expect…”

You gave a small shake of your head, your eyes glued to his lips, “I know, Joel. I know. I… This is my choice. I want you.”

Joel took in a slow breath through his nose as his jaw locked. His hands tightened around your face, caressing the skin along your face and neck, and one hand slipped to cup the back of your head as his forehead leaned against yours. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse, “Say it again.”

“I want you, Joel.”

Joel initiated the kiss this time, and it was far from hesitant. At your consent, it was like he dropped all semblance of his self control. His lips were bruising against yours and Joel was desperate in getting you closer. He dragged you over so you were straddling his lap. His hands roamed down your body until they found your hips. Joel’s tongue slipped past your parted lips just as he dragged your aching core against his half hard cock⏤ thrusting up against you while swallowing the moan that left your throat.

He wrapped an arm around your middle and suddenly you found yourself on your back. The cool concrete floor was jarring to how hot you felt. Hands sunk into the waistband and with one firm pull both your tights and underwear were down to your ankles. You gasped in surprise, but Joel didn’t pause. 

“Jesus Christ, what a pretty fuckin’ pussy, baby.” Joel groaned and tugged a foot out from your clothes so both articles wrapped around only one of your legs. He roughly grabbed your thighs and dragged you closer so when he dropped to the ground his mouth was immediately buried into your warmth. You yelped at the contact but it was followed by a wanton groan as his tongue ravished you. It was messy and rushed. Joel ate you out like you were his last meal, and the groans and slurping sounds he made were downright sinful.

“Joel! I⏤ Oh, God.” You gasped and your hands buried in his hair. Your hips lifted to chase after his mouth, but Joel dropped his arm across your waist and pinned you to the floor with a chuckle. 

Joel lifted his face and turned to bite down on your thigh. You cried out at the sting of his teeth against your skin, but the drag of his hot tongue against the spot left you whimpering. “C’mon, baby.” You tugged on his hair to try and get his lips back where you wanted them, but he stayed firm. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me.”

“Want you, Joel. Need you.”

Thick fingers dragged up and down through the mess he’d already made and one began to prod at your entrance without actually sinking in. “Again.”

“Please. Please!” You tried to grind down against him, but his grip on your waist kept you in place. “I want you, Joel. Want you so badly. Please.” Joel had one fingertip circling your hole, but at your desperate pleas he sunk three of his large fingers right in. You screamed, both in alarm and at the sharp sting, “Shit! Joel, too much!”

“Shhh, baby girl. You’re okay.” His lips found your clit and the suction he applied there slowly took away the sting of his rapidly moving fingers. Just as he reassured you, you were okay. More than okay. Pleasure was clouding your mind and you were a squirming, sopping mess under him. Joel’s fingers curled up into you, dragging against your walls, and he made quick work in finding the spot that punched stars into your vision. “There we go, baby. Jus’ like that.” He kept his lips against your clit as he spoke and your wet flesh muffled his praise. “Lemme feel you squeeze ‘round my fingers so I can feel you squeeze ‘round my fat cock. C’mon.”

Teeth nipped at your clit, followed by the smoothing of his tongue, and combined with the pounding of his fingers you came with a shuddering cry. Joel didn’t stop his onslaught and he lowered his lips from your clit so he could drink up every bit of the soaking wet mess he made.

“Joel. Fuck.” You gasped for the air he had somehow managed to punch out of your lungs with his hand alone. “That was…”

“Not done, baby girl.” Joel sat up on his knees but kept his place between your legs. You weakly pushed yourself up onto your elbows and it only dawned on you then that this entire time he had been fully clothed. It was an almost uncomfortable balance between the two of you. “Get up ‘ere.” You began to push up from your elbows and the moment you were close enough his hand wrapped around the back of your neck so he could help you up the rest of the way into the seated position you now sat in. He gazed down at you, pupils blown in lust, and his dark stare soaked in the sight of you. “Say it.”

Knowing exactly what he wanted, you mumbled, “I want you, Joel.”

“Good girl. Open.” Joel grunted. The hand at the back of your neck grabbed you by the hair and he tugged down so your chin was tilted up. Joel shoved the three fingers he had deep in your cunt into your mouth. You closed your lips around him and moaned at the taste of yourself. “Belt, baby. Get my belt.”

You tried to glance down, but Joel kept his grip on you tight so you could only stare up at him as he pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth. Blindly, your hands groped for his belt and you struggled to get it undone as you gagged around his fingers.

“Shh. You can multitask, baby, I believe in ya.” Joel cooed and didn’t relent. “Work at it. Be good.” You traced his thick fingers with your tongue and your hands finally managed to get his belt undone. You got your hands into his pants, tugging down his boxers, and Joel groaned loudly as your hands wrapped around his hard, girthy cock. The size of him alone had you tense in surprise. “Hey, it’s alright, baby girl.” Joel’s fingers slipped out of your mouth and you couldn’t help but cough to try and clear the tickle at the back of your throat. He carefully pushed you down, onto your back again, but he followed with you so he was hovering over your body. One hand at the back of your neck, cupping it softly, while his other rested by your head to hold himself up. “You can handle this. I swear, this perfect pussy is made for me, baby.”

Joel lowered himself to capture your lips with his. The kiss was soft and tender. It was a sweet moment as his cock dragged slowly against you. His tongue licked against the curve of your lower lip just as the tip of him notched at your hole. You opened your mouth to ask him to start slow, but Joel shoved his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss, as his painfully large cock shoved into you. You screamed, muffled by his own mouth, as he bottomed out in one single thrust. Tears involuntarily sprung to your eyes at the intrusion and you pulled your lips away from Joel by turned you head. Your fingernails dug into his back.

“Joel, that⏤ that kind of hurt.”

“I know, I’m sorry, baby girl.” Joel buried his face into the crook of your neck. He left open mouth kisses there between reassurances. “Jus’ give it a minute. You’re doin’ so good. So good.” Joel was thankfully staying still inside of you and with the work he put in along the length of your neck you began to feel the sting start to fade. Joel shifted, just a bit, and you shuddered at the slight drag of him. His cock twitched and he moaned against your skin. “Fuck, you feel so good. So perfect. Knew you would.” Joel gave a short, experimental thrust and you gasped at the wave of pleasure you were pulled under. “Gotta move, baby girl.”

Joel pulled back until just the tip remained then rocked his hips forward hard enough to push you across the concrete floor. He roughly grabbed you by the thigh and pulled your leg up. You followed his lead and hooked your ankles around his back as Joel’s grip on the back of your neck tightened and he quickly fell into an unrelenting pace. 

“Told you, baby girl.” Joel grunted, the only other sound being your breathless moans and the wet sounds of your pussy sucking his cock in with every powerful thrust. “Made for me.” Joel sung praises as that band of want and desire tightened in your core by the second. His hand slipped between your bodies to find your clit once more and your eyes squeezed shut with a gasp. As soon as they shut though, his touch was gone and with that hand he grabbed you by the face. Your eyes snapped back open in surprise. “Nuh uh. Eyes on me. You hear me?” You nodded and he tightened his grip⏤ his fingers digging almost painfully into your cheeks. “Words, baby. Lemme hear you say it.”

“Keep⏤” You gasped. “Keep my eyes on you.”

“Good girl.” Joel’s hand slipped back down and when his fingers reached their goal it took every bit of strength to keep your eyes open. Your orgasm slammed into you like a freight train and a cry of pleasure slipped past your lips. Joel groaned loudly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Takin’ me so well, baby girl, just like I knew you would.” 

His pace ramped up but he lost his rhythm and in a brief moment of clarity you gasped, “Joel! Joel, you gotta⏤ fuck! Oh God. You gotta pull out, Joel.” He didn’t slow and for a brief moment sharp fear mingled with the overwhelming pleasure. “Joel!”

At last second, Joel ripped himself off you with a guttural groan and you felt the warmth of his release spurt on your hips. Your entire body went lax as he continued to milk the last bit of him onto your body and you felt the warm, sticky cum drip down the sides of your hip and down into your pussy as well. 

Joel tucked himself back into his pants, without clasping his jeans, and he rubbed a hand up and down your thigh soothingly. You were trying to catch your breath as Joel separated your underwear from where it was tangled with your yoga pants around your ankle. You lifted your head and watched as he used your underwear to wipe away the cum now drying on your skin. 

“C’mon, baby girl.” He tucked your panties, now a damp mess of your spend and his, into his flannel pocket and helped you slide your legs back into the yoga pants. When they were back in place, he pulled you to stand and grinned when your knees nearly buckled. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You chuckled and clung to his shoulders. “That was… a lot.”

That had felt incredible, and the fact that it was Joel made it even better. But, it had been rougher than you thought it’d be. Not that you really minded. It just… caught you off guard. Your mind was still too drunk on pleasure to fully understand your feelings on it.

Joel leaned in to settle his lips against your temple. He hummed, “From the second I saw you, baby girl, I just knew you’d be my world.”

“The first second?” You teased. “Me bleeding in an upside down car?”

His lips were curled up into a smile you could only describe as boyish. Joel leaned in again to lock his lips with yours and you wrapped your arms around his neck to help hold yourself up.

The world had ended, but you had a new world now and everything would be just fine.

Right?

BEFORE

Joel stood at the gas pump staring at his phone as his truck was filled. His strange client, the survivalist who asked him to help build a bunker, had shot him a message that made little to no sense. He rambled about the “end of the world”, and invited Joel to join him in the bunker for the “start of something new”. Joel tossed his phone back into his truck with full plans to ignore it. He’d drive to the bar and spend the night drinking. It’d be nothing new. He was a regular at this point.

As he climbed into the driver’s seat his gaze lifted and he spotted you exiting a store across the street.

You from three days ago. You who he met at his usual drinking hole. You who had left him breathless. Joel had been drinking alone, the usual, when you and your friends drifted into the bar as an already half drunk mob. One of your guy friends had gotten rowdy near him, joking with another, and he bumped into Joel and spilled his entire whiskey.

Before he could even begin to lose his temper, you had swept in to save the day. It was obvious you were drunk yourself, but you cleaned him up, apologized for your friends, bought him a new drink, and just sat there and talked. You rambled about being in town to visit your family and catching up with old friends, and Joel found he could listen to you all day.

There was something magnetic about you.

Enough so, that he found himself following you down the road. You were driving toward the edge of town. Maybe to meet with friends at that new bar and drink some more. The roads grew less crowded as you got further out, and Joel thought about following you into the bar. Just to talk. It had been so long since he craved conversation of any kind. He realized though that you probably wouldn’t want anything to do with him. You were young and beautiful and clever. A ray of sunshine. Your options for company were endless and Joel couldn’t imagine being anywhere but at the bottom of that list. Drunk you had put up with him, but sober you probably wouldn’t spare him a glance.

Joel’s eyes darted to the passenger seat where his phone sat. A second passed, and a decision was made. He flashed his lights and laid on his horn. Your car slowed cautiously and he began to speed past you. He looked out his passenger window and the last thing he saw was your wide, confused and fearful eyes before he swerved into you.

He slammed on the breaks and watched your car flip a few times before coming to a stop at the edge of a ditch. Smoke billowed from the broken remains of your vehicle and Joel stared wide eyed at what he had just done. Guilt gnawed at him and he scrambled out of his truck to race to the driver’s side of the wreckage. You were hanging upside down from your seatbelt and blood dripped from a gash along your temple. A bruise was already forming at your hairline. But you were alive. Thank God. He hadn't even considered how wrong that could've gone. It seemed the universe was on his side for this.

Joel knew what he had done was wrong, but it was too late to go back.

He had made the decision⏤ your world ended and he’d be the one to build you something new.

[if you're curious the Ezra I mention is the Pedro Pascal character from Prospect (he just screams cult leader, doesn't he?) and i lowkey maybe have plans for a follow up on this but from the POV of a different reader and Ezra]