#plant 'em our ass

[legendary-pancakes]

Linktober Day 23 - Child/Children

the cubus sisters!

[otto-s-alskling]

TF141 X Hardworker!Reader

"Their Sleepyhead"

You're a hard worker, everyone knows that. God, even Price had to carry you a few times to bring you to bed (and not in *that* way, get your mind out the gutter!) But your insistent attitude of working till you collapse is a trait that the 141 is aware that will never go away, not when they've seen you do it for over three years.

Price

You have your office close to his, connected with an adjoining door which was lucky because you bought your own coffee machine. Majority of the time, you're brewing him a fresh cup of coffee, black with a hint of sugar to cut the full bitterness.

He loves listening to you shuffling and singing next door, sometimes singing back to your songs when duets are playing from your phone but he'd be damn and hide in a hole before he'd let you know that he sings along to you and your velvety voice with his gruff one.

But this also includes him actually hearing you when your head finally thuds down on the desk when you refused to stop working from 5AM till wee hours of the night. He'd peek through the adjoining door first before sighing and picking you up, cradling you close before carrying you out the offices, ignoring looks from the other soldiers still awake late at night. Gaz would immediately walk up to help, opening the doors for Price so he can tuck you into bed, removing your boots before turning off the lamp light. He'd sneak a forehead kiss before closing the door and walking back to the offices, ignoring his racing heartbeat.

Soap

Our Scot is a freaking sweetheart (this is the hill I'll die on.) If he knows Cap isn't in office or in a mission or conference somewhere, you bet your ass he'd delegate himself into keeping company, literally. He'd play on his phone in your office couch, nothing too loud but just enough to be there.

Talks will be nonstop and he'd teach you some Scottish slangs too, much to a certain Skull masked teammate. He'd even teach you traditions and if he had the time and the energy, he'd do your hair into some Scottish Braids. (Look em up, they're GORGEOUS.)

He'd pause from time to time, get a snack or something and he'd come back with something for you too! And if you fell asleep, you bet he'd transfer you over to the couch and find your emergency blanket and tuck you in.

He'd brush your hair out of your face and plant a kiss on your cheek before sitting on the floor next to the couch, just playing on his phone till he fall asleep himself or if he gets hungry and get another snack. He'd wait till you wake up, and not even Ghost can drag him out the room. Someone had to guard the team's Bonnie after all.

Gaz

If you think he wouldn't help out with the paperwork, you'd be fucking wrong. Being the youngest meant you two are the closest, age wise anyways. Would pause halfway on working to show you something in TikTok or play some random playlist on YouTube or Spotify just to break the silence in the room.

He'd being his own snacks, which also includes a big bar of Cadbury. Sometimes Lindt if he got to visit in the nearby city. Work goes faster so he always try to help out on hell week so you wouldn't handle the full brunt of the workload.

If you fall asleep, he'd switch the music to a lullaby or a soft classical music, keeping you asleep as long as he can anyways. Like Soap, he'd transfer you to the couch but he'd push an armchair flush against the couch to block you in from falling like a pseudo bed (or fort or crib. Do people still do this?)

Tucks you in gently and continues his half of the paperwork before joining you on the couch and cuddling you to sleep. He's not one to pass up in getting to sleep in your arms after all.

Ghost

This man trusts with his life. (He'd never say it out loud.) He wasn't really warm with the idea of having a support member in the team, especially one who's specialty ranges from medic to sniper to assistant. Like how is that even possible? So when he realized that you're one of the most hardworking person he'd ever met, respect was earned... And affection.

It was around halfway the second year when he showed his face to you, the heat surge in the office making it annoying to have the mask. He didn't make a fuss so you didn't as well, just working along with him and Price in the Captain's office and hope to survive the heatwave enough. Door was locked so he was confident enough to do it even if Price did raise an eyebrow for a moment before shrugging it off.

By the third year, he already made it a habit to remove his mask once he got you to your room, finally dragging you to bed even before you fall asleep on the desk. You'd grumble and complain but when he glares you down, you relent anyways, not like you can fight him back easily when he's the largest amongst your teammates. So against your unnecessary complaints, he'd spoon you till you fall asleep, much thanks for your exhausted body and mind. Once asleep, he'd sneak a nap for an hour or two himself before letting you be, heading back to his own room, but not after sneaking a kiss to the hair and hand. For him, you're his hardworking lovie, not that he'd let it slip out to everyone else.

[cyberrose2001]

Heyo! Can I request some stress sex with Op, fem reader and Ratchet? The two work so hard and maybe some.joking around when mentioning the readers name, the two stressed bots snap, and reader ends up railed into?

TFP Optimus x human!Reader x Ratchet

Hayy thank you for requesting! I've kind of just jumped right into the good stuff since I wasn't entirely sure what you implied with the joking around. Either way, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: AFAB Reader, Established relationship, Poly, Implied Mass-Displaced, Cum Dumping + Cum Shots, Masturbation, Fingering, Spit, Slight Oral

Word count: 2,186

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

"C'mere, you." Ratchet catches your chin with a servo, bringing your lips closer to capture them in a long-anticipated kiss. His other servo holds your lower back, inching closer down to cup your ass.

Moaning into the kiss, you wrap your arms around his neck. Hard steel meets soft fingertips as you play amongst the seams. The medic groans with you as he presses his glossa against your teeth, a gentle command exuding confidence that makes your knees weak.

A new set of metallic lips meets your body. It's a welcomed one, inviting your other lover in by tilting your neck just enough. The Prime licks and sucks at your already bruised skin, reminiscing of all the previous bouts of love poured over you. His servos find the side of your ribcage, running the tips over and between where they lie under your shirt.

"We missed you today," Optimus says breathlessly against your ear, nipping at your lobes, "I apologise for our busy schedule."

Parting your lips from Ratchet, who responds with a groan and a small flick at your lips with his glossa, you turn your attention to the mech behind you, "I don't care," You lift your hand to caress his face, "Just fuck me."

"With pleasure," Ratchet mumbles into your neck, having seized the opportunity to nuzzle himself against you. He dips his servos down to tug at the hem of your shirt.

"Here- let me." Optimus strips the fabric over your head, dumping it on the ground. Ratchet is next, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. With hands as dexterous as his, he quickly does so and lets it fall from your shoulders.

Optimus groans at the sight, snaking his servos in front to cup at your breasts. They fit against his palms perfectly, as if you were made for him. He kneads them together, squishing and squeezing them. It causes a soft moan from you, and you lean your chest into his touch. His metal is cold to touch and sends a shiver down your spine.

"I'm takin' these off." Ratchet focuses his attention on your pants and dips his digits underneath. He grips your underwear, too, and pulls them down to your ankles to let you step out of them. As soon as he does, Ratchet's dermas are attached to your skin, and he kisses his way upwards. No stone unturned; not one inch of your flesh is spared from his opened-mouth kisses, worshipping your flesh like it's the last time he'll ever get a taste.

You can feel Optimus' impatience poking at your lower back, surely pent up from the stresses of leadership. You can feel your own arousal start to build at the thought of his impatience plunging into you. Rubbing your thighs together to ease some pressure, it catches the attention of both hungry mechs.

"Come on, Optimus," Ratchet grips onto your hips, standing up to full height, which seems to be miles above your head, "Let's get 'em on the berth; I'm far too impatient for mere foreplay."

Optimus agrees entirely, wrapping his arms around your midsection and effortlessly picking you up. He steps back until the back of his knees hits the berth, hauling you up against him. With a small surprised shriek from you, he flops back to lay fully onto the berth, your back lying against his chassis. Your other lover closely follows, climbing up to plant himself between both yours and Optimus' thighs firmly.

"Who's spiking first?" Ratchet asks, placing both servos onto your spread thighs. His optics hold the weight of cement, and he cannot look anywhere but your exposed folds.

"I will allow you first, old friend," Optimus presses his face against the side of yours, "I am sure our little love does not mind either way, hm?"

You nod, a desperate whine dragged from your throat when Optimus snakes his servo around to circle at your clit, "Yes, yes, I don't care, just- just please fuck me."

"I love it when you beg like that," It takes no more convincing from Ratchet to unsheath his spike. It's much smaller than Optimus but large and thick enough to keep you begging for more. He brings a servo to his mouth and spits on it before working his oral lubricants over his spike. Once satisfied, he leans down to kiss the inside of your thigh before letting his lubricants well up in his mouth and spits on your pussy. Optimus chuckles lowly at your reaction, allowing the warm spit to lubricate his digits to spread it all around your folds.

Once he feels sufficiently hard enough, Ratchet presses the tip against the threshold. He's too eager and can hardly wait a moment longer, "Oh, Primus-" He pushes further, slowly working half of his shaft inside.

He's barely seated inside you, and you're already trembling, resisting the urge to cry out. Optimus holds you steady, whispering soft praises and encouragement through it all.

"So well," Optimus watches with hazed optics as Ratchet sinks fully inside you, his digits continuing to work on your bud, "You take Ratchet exceedingly well."

Ratchet lets out a rough grunt, "Though a rather tight fit, might I add-" He leans his body over, making a sexually charged sandwich out of you, "But you feel like fragging silk." He shivers above you, and you've got no choice but to stare into his optics as he withdraws his length and thrusts hard back into you.

"Oh my god-" Your speech falters, and you arch your back against Optimus. Though not as fast-paced as the Prime, the medics feel longer and more powerful each time and ring your vocal cords like a bell.

"That's it-" Ratchet buries his helm into your neck, his work of breathing increasing with every plunge into your plush pussy, "Take it- take all of it."

Optimus chimes in, his voice strained with anticipation and longing, "They certainly are-" The driving force of Ratchet causes your back to grind and rub against his spike. He breathlessly nips at your ear lobe, "Tell him how he makes you feel, sweetspark."

"S-So good-" You moan, stringing together whatever words you can claw at, "Feels so good- nghn-"

"Yeah?" Ratchet grunts as he increases his speed. His grip on your waist tightens with every thrust, all indications point to his overload inching closer and closer, "Gahh- Frag, say my name-"

A filthy rendition of his name falls from your lips, slurred and full of lust for the mech. His thick spike is grinding and pressing against every sweet spot known to humankind. Your hands find his shoulder plating, gripping on for dear life as your own orgasm breaches the horizon. Optimus holds you steady and keeps you from squirming, letting Ratchet indulge in your flesh freely.

"Oh, you sweet thing-" The medic sits upright, pistoning his hips while hungry optics gaze down on your wobbling flesh, "So fraggin' gorgeous."

It takes only a few more pumps of his spike before you call out each other's names. Ratchet presses his pulsing spike as far as he physically can inside you, his frame shaking as he pumps full to the brim. Your body tenses, and your hands shuffle to find Optimus' servos, gripping them as you cross the threshold. The Prime responds by comforting you, intertwining his digits with yours, and murmuring praises against your ear.

"Primus, just when I- guhh-" Ratchet pants, squeezing his optics shut as you clench around him, "Just when I thought you couldn't get tighter." He taps a digit on your other lover's thigh, "Your turn. Ready?"

"Whenever you are satisfied," Optimus says. He snakes his servo to your front once again to prepare for Ratchet to pull out. With a strained groan, he does, and as soon as his spike unsheathes itself from you, Optimus shoves a digit inside to plug you up, preventing the flood of transfluids from escaping you.

"Here, let me help." Ratchet slips Optimus' spike out from under you. He presses the tip against your entrance alongside Optimus' digits, quickly slipping it past your folds, "There you go."

The Prime underneath you groans, vibrating your entire body. He grips your hips with restraint but with enough force to push you down his whole length, helped out by the slick of your pussy and Ratchets' transfluids. The sheer girth has you keening as your walls stretch and clamp down onto it. Ratchets' dermas are automatically on yours to capture your moans and cries.

"Primus-" Optimus lifts you higher onto his hips for a slight adjustment before he begins to move within you. The warmth of your pussy mixed with the hot transfluids has him clenching his optics shut and burying his face against the side of your neck, "You feel wonderful."

"They sure do, don't they?" Ratchet kisses your tear-stained cheek after your soft lips, "You're perfect."

Your ability to speak leaves you when Optimus gives you a particularly harsh thrust, and you cry out his name. Shaky hands find the ones holding onto your hips as you, once again, hold on for dear life as you're fucked for the second time tonight.

Ratchet sits up again, his lust-filled optics trained on the way your pussy stretches around the thick spike, how your face twists in pleasure, and how the drool inches down your chin. You're a complete and utterly fucked mess, and the sight of it all has his spike standing tall and erect once more. He bites his lower derma as he takes his aching spike in his fist and pumps himself, moaning with you and Optimus.

The Prime glances up from your neck, noticing his friend masturbating to you being fucked, "Not- aghh- finished yet, are you, old friend?"

"Never-" Ratchets' hips stutter, gritting his dentae as he squeezes himself from base to tip, "Never finished."

Optimus growls lowly into your ear, "Then we better give him a worthy performance-" He then wraps his arms tightly around your chest, causing you to forget how to breathe for a moment before he fucks up into you so hard you nearly black out. You no longer have control as he pinned your arms against you. He's unrelenting, rutting into you hard enough that the remnants of Ratchets transfluids spurt and dribble out of you. And the said mech groans in approval, jerking his cock faster and faster.

"C'mon, sweetspark," Ratchet edges closer to another overload, shuffling forward so his spike is within inches of your stretched-out hole, "Overload again- nghh- for us-"

"I- fuckfuckfuck-" You whimper out, unable to squirm or even move in Optimus' embrace. Your body starts to convulse, and your head falls back against the mech's neck as your whimpers bloom into sheer, unrestrained, and sinful cries, cumming around Optimus' cock.

"Primus, yes-" The Prime groans, his vocaliser strained. He pushes you down as far as you can take, dumping his load deep within your little organic valve. His own frame begins to tremble, jolting with every squeeze you give him. Your jaw goes slack, feeling every crevice within you filling up with with sticky transfluids. It causes a bulge in your stomach, a wonderous testament to how pliable your little human body is.

Ratchet is close by, desperately pumping his spike. His other servo finds your bulging stomach, caressing and pressing against it, "Frag yes, t-take it..." He moans wantonly, his second overload walloping him. Thick ropes of hot transfluid shoot out onto your stretched pussy, coating your outer lips and clit; some miss and shoot out onto your stomach. It causes another moan to leave your lips, the heat against your sensitive folds sending a tingling sensation up your spine.

He finishes himself off, squeezing every last drop from his tip before he sits on his heels, spikes brushing limply against your inner thigh. Optimus, once barely recovered from his overload, takes a moment to peer over your shoulder to gaze lovingly at the utter mess between your legs. A mess that they caused.

"Goodness," Optimus chuckles lowly, releasing his grip from your torso, "Look at the state you are in."

Your entire groin and everything in between is soaking in their sticky transfluids. It drips down your folds and along the shaft, still buried deep within you. It's a lewd sight, for sure, worthy enough for both of the bots to snap a picture and save it to their internal hard drives.

Ratchet breathlessly laughs with him, caressing your inner thighs soothingly, "Quite the mess, if I say so myself."

"It was..." You pant tiredly, your pussy still clenching around Optimus' dully throbbing spike. Your heart races, but you feel utterly relaxed against his frame as you soak in the afterglow, "Well worth the wait."

Optimus gives you an exhausted smile, kissing the side of your reddened and bruised neck, "I share the same sentiment."

"Speaking of, I hope we all share the same sentiment regarding getting you cleaned up," Ratchet shuffles back and leans down to bury his face between your thighs, licking a stripe up your drenched clit, "I'm peckish for dessert."

[biggaybunny]

The inherent conflict of being alive is that your cells just love water. Great stuff for cells. Excellent for transporting things around in, really helps counteract gravity and make that 3rd dimension fully accessible. You as an organism however, want atmosphere. It's got all those awesome gases, like oxygen. Those gases are great! But they're not very good at getting in the water. Lots more of them outside the water.

Now some organisms went ahead and said "well, our cells want to be in the water, we're made of cells, we're staying in the water". And I respect that! Gotta respect that. Lots of 'em stick to the surface, get a little bit of the good gases, but keep themselves nice and watered up (wet) to keep their cells happy. Some make do with whatever cool gases have managed to dissolve into the water, thanks to a process known as "churning that shit up" that happens on the water's surface. Doesn't work out great for them, but you know, they made their decision and they committed to it. You gotta respect that.

Now some organisms, especially a lot of old ones, were afraid of commitment. They hung out at the water's edge, breathing all the gases and shit, but still needed to make sure they could stay wet. Like, their plan was to leave the water, but stay wet. Not a great move, if you ask me. Usually it works, but only until it doesn't. You ever seen dried up moss? Ask it how it's "stay wet but not in water" plan went. It can't answer you. It fucked up. That's what you get for not committing.

Now trees though, trees had the other idea. Trees and some other plants were like, no problem. I'm gonna take my water with me and never ever let it go. They developed specialized cells and shit. They got whole layers dedicated to keeping the water the fuck in. They got other cells dedicated to hunting down any water in a square fuckometer and taking it for themselves. That's hustle. That's a game plan. Some plants got so good at it they saw these dry-ass stretches of land that saw rain less often than you saw your mother smile as a child and were like "okay but is the amount of water not literally zero? Yeah? We're good."

The moving orgisms tried to copy trees, naturally. Making hard outer layers to trap the water in for their cells. But it was pretty weak. They kept going on about needing holes for the moisture to leave, and wet surfaces for their eyeballs. Then some of us got stupid and decided maybe we only needed like a half-decent layer protecting our water. "Semi-permeable" they marketed it as. Oh it's fine they said. We'll live somewhere wet, they said. Yeah how'd that work out for that moss again.

And now I get a headache if I go like 3 hours without drinking a glass of water. I should've been a pine tree.

[toxicanonymity]

Apple Blossom. Left in Lincoln, pt. 4

7.5k / dads best friend!Joel x virgin!Reader 

story master list / joel miller master list

His cheeks turned a little pink and his eyes lit up. He handed you the rag.   "What?" you asked. “Nothin',” he said softly and shook his head. “You sure are pretty, darlin’. That’s all.” He dried his hands then gave your butt a squeeze. The moment of domesticity almost made you forget the town was rotting away beneath your feet. 

WARNINGS: I8+ mdni, slow-burn horror w/ potentially disturbing implicit content, big girthy age gap (20s/50s), plot, angst, toxic/dark fluff, gaslighting, manipulation, pressure, grooming, grinding, fingering, oral M receiving, pet names and praise.  Very TOXIC, dark Joel. Impaired editing.

You fell asleep in Joel’s arms and woke up alone in your bed.  The apple blossom was gone from your night stand. You showered and got dressed. You couldn’t find your baseball cap and realized the last time you wore it was in Joel’s orchard.  When you came downstairs, Bill and Frank's bedroom door was open.  Before you could investigate, you heard screeching outside, then cursing. You ran to the door.  Joel was waving his arms and a crow was flying away from him.  He had a screwdriver in one hand. He stood up and smoothed his shirt and a feather floated away from him.  He was wearing Frank's clothes with his hair freshly slicked back from a shower.    

You went outside and looked down at the open vent. You asked, “How’d you get it to come out?”

Joel shrugged with his arms hanging heavy at his sides.  "Nowhere else to go. Gotta be patient sometimes.” He bent one knee and put the hand with the screwdriver on his hip, looking up at the roof of the house. He squinted at the chimney.  “I reckon we left the fireplace vent open the other night.” 

You approached Joel and he extended his free hand for a hug.  He stroked your head and looked at you lovingly.  You were still taking that in -  the fact that Joel told you he loved you.  He gave you a kiss on the head and inhaled your scent.  Then he went to screw the vent back into the side of the house, and your eyes followed his ass.  That was one thing about Joel always having his shirt tucked in - You were very aware of his ass. He was so muscular, almost statuesque to you. His proportions reminded you of classic art. 

Joel glanced back as he bent over and your cheeks burned as you looked away from his body.  

“Can we plant the strawberries today?” You asked.

“Not the season, darlin’. Won’t survive.”

“Ours are still alive," you said. 

“Really?” he asked skeptically. 

"Yeah, they just never fruited."

“Show me.”  Joel finished screwing the vent back into place then stood up and brushed off his knees.  

You led him to the failed strawberry patch and showed him the plants. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” Joel said and squatted down to finger the leaves.  "You wanna bring’em, guess we can try it."

You were excited to surprise Frank and Bill with fresh strawberries. Once they fruited, maybe you could transplant them somewhere at home too. 

"Grab a spade and bucket outta the shed. Some of that cloth, too." 

You returned with the requested supplies and Joel said, "Alright, I’ll work on this and you can pick some veggies to take with us if ya want." 

“We’re not coming back today?” 

“Not ‘til we figure out what’s goin’ on, darlin’.” He put his hands on his knees and stood back up with a groan.  “Anything else you wanna plant from here? Arugula?”  

You were still processing the idea of leaving home for multiple days.  “Sure. Wait, what if we get the computers back up to check the cameras?” you asked. “Then we can see if it’s safe.” 

He wiped his brow with the back of the flannel sleeve.  “Just looked at ‘em. All static. Lines must've been cut.  Been down at least a few days." 

"What??" A pit formed in your stomach.  This whole time, you should’ve been even more scared than you were.  Joel sensed your fear. He stepped forward and put his arm around you.  He cradled your head against him.  He smelled a little like Frank.  

“It’s okay, baby. I’m not leavin’ you again," he reassured you.  The low vibration of his voice in his chest was an extra layer to the hug. 

You tried to shake off the dark mood that fell over you. "Can we make apple juice?” you asked.  

“Sure we can, peaches.”

-

Joel uprooted some strawberry and arugula while you picked vegetables then brought them inside.  You got out the empty apple juice jar to take with you and took the cider jar out of the fridge, too.  

Joel walked in and froze. “You’re not drinkin’ that, are ya?” 

“No,” you said, but you didn’t want to offend him since he brewed it.  “Not right now.”

“But you did?” He stepped forward and looked so serious.  Your face went cold.

“Well, no-”

"You shouldn’t be drinkin’ without me, darlin’.  It’s not safe.”  There was an air of judgment in his  voice. You were embarrassed, but shouldn't have been.  You were old enough to drink and your house was full of wine. You could have a drink alone if you wanted to.  Joel extended his hand and looked at you sternly. “Gimme that.”  You felt defensive as if you had done something wrong. Even knowing you hadn't.  You suddenly realized you had no idea where his bottle of whiskey was that he left there days ago.   He might have thought you drank it, too.  You were mortified. 

“I was just gonna pour it out so we could use the jar,” you explained as he opened the cider.  Joel's face softened and he poured it out in the sink. 

“Got plenty of jars at home, baby. Good idea though."  He rinsed the jar then patted the back of your head tenderly. It wasn't enough to soothe the feeling of being scolded, but the feeling would fade. You had bigger things to worry about anyway. He just wanted to keep you safe. 

-

On the walk to Joel’s house, you told him all about the night before.  How Abe didn’t come by, then you heard Abe's truck, but didn’t see him.  You told him about the songs playing on the radio station, which gave you chills to even think about.  

Joel heard the distress in your voice and stopped dead in his tracks, disturbed.  “Sorry I wasn’t there, darlin’.  Never shoulda left ya." He took a deep, ragged breath in. He cupped your cheek.   “Guess I didn’t wanna be a bother if ya didn't want me stickin' around.” 

You felt a wave of guilt for sending him home each night.  You imagined him walking alone in the dark worrying about you, thinking he was bothering you.  

"It's okay, Joel," you reassured him.  "I should've asked you to stay." 

"It's not okay, baby.”  He shook his head at himself, then looked at you with grave concern.  “What if somethin' happened?" 

"Well, I guess it didn’t.  I'm okay," you said. 

He sighed and cradled the back of your head.

"But I'm worried about Abe," you added. 

Joel dropped his hand, and looked off into the distance, jaw muscle flexing.  

"What if he's in trouble?" you asked. 

Joel took a deep breath and looked in the direction of Abe’s property.  "Tell ya what, darlin'. I'll go check on him today, how’s that sound?”

The distress melted away from your face. “Thank you,” you gushed and wrapped him in a hug.  He kissed the top of your head.

A bird cried and both of you turned toward the sound.  It was a crow.  It followed you the rest of the way to Joel's house, squawking obnoxiously.  

-

It was your first time being in Joel’s house.  It was about as neat and clean as you expected for the most part.  It smelled woodsy and nutty, like pine and almonds, and faintly of apples.  He led you upstairs to a spare bedroom and left you there to get settled in. He said to let him know if you needed anything.  

You walked around the room and picked things up. There was a dresser, a vanity, and a mirror.  On top of the vanity was a jewelry box and a hairbrush.  A stationary set.  There was a stool at the vanity and a box fan on the floor.  

Everything was so perfect and comfortable. It was what you imagined a hotel might be like. Clean and cozy. You sat down on the neatly made bed and took your shoes off. Joel came back a few minutes later and stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He looked around the room then nervously put his hands in his pockets.  He asked, "What do you think?" 

"It's amazing." 

He looked relieved.  He came over to sit next to you on the bed.  "Good," he said.  He smiled and his eyes scanned your body.  He caressed your neck and planted a kiss on your cheek.  

"Can we pick apples to make the juice today?"

"Not today, darlin'. Not 'til we're sure it's safe." He raised your hand to his mouth and kissed it.  "Got some apples in the kitchen, though." 

-

Joel made lunch and told you about the different improvements he made to the house and orchard in the past few years.   You asked for a tour and he said you could have one after he knew the community was secure.  He got up and took the dishes to the sink.  He turned on the water to wash them and you got up and volunteered to do them instead. It seemed only fair since he made lunch. You stood next to him at the sink and reached for the rag. His cheeks turned a little pink and his eyes lit up. He hesitantly handed you the rag with a slight smile.    

“What?” you asked. 

“Nothin',” he said softly and shook his head, looking at the floor.  He looked back up at you and sucked his bottom lip.  “You sure are pretty, darlin’. That’s all.” He dried his hands on a clean towel, then gave your butt a little squeeze. You smiled and giggled silently.  The moment of domesticity made you forget the town was rotting away beneath your feet. 

Joel moved to stand close behind you and put his hands on your hips.  He spoke softly into the crown of your head.  “I'll go take a look around the neighborhood and check on Abe.”  

You turned your head and nodded, “thank you, Joel.” 

His voice got low and serious, but remained gentle.  “Stay here. Don't go outside.” 

You nodded again. 

“You don't answer the door for anyone but me.  Real important, okay?"

You put down the dish in your hand and turned around to face him fully. "Okay."

"Even if you think you know 'em. Don't know who could be infected." He swallowed regretfully. 

You nodded in agreement, "Okay."

His hands on either side of your hips casually caged you against the sink.  He gently pressed his hips, then his lips into yours.

“Back before sundown,” he muttered. 

He put on a jacket, went down to the cellar, and returned with two firearms. He handed you a pistol, put on his jacket, and kissed you goodbye.  He winked as he left, then locked the door behind him from the outside.  

-

While Joel was out, you got curious and bored. You  walked around the house.  The first door you tried to open was locked.  The second one led down to the cellar.  You took a few steps down and tried to reach the light string that hung from the ceiling.  it swung away.  After another step down, the door behind you began to close.  You panicked and lunged up the stairs to keep it open.  That was stupid. You could have gotten locked in.  You scurried up the stairs back into the living room.  Once you caught your breath, you shut the door behind you and didn't go back.   

Another door was a closet.  Jackets, hats, boots. You saw an old Red Sox hat and your heart skipped a beat.  Your first thought was Jesse.  Your heart pounded in your chest and you weren’t sure why.  It was probably yours.  Joel must have scooped it up when you left it in the orchard.  It could have faded from the elements.  You had the strongest urge to touch and smell the hat, but you didn’t dare disturb it.  Joel seemed like the type to know exactly how things were. You didn't want him to know you were snooping.  

You didn’t try any more doors after that.  You went back to the kitchen.  You opened the pantry and there were two crates of jars, one of them locked. You looked around the opposite counter from where you had been doing the dishes.  A basket of apples, a jar of apple seeds. A fresh branch in a vase of water with a budding blossom.  You held up the vase and smelled the bud. 

You were startled from the moment by a faint scraping and clinking sound outside.  You fumbled the vase and almost dropped it but caught it.  Your pulse sped up and your eyes darted to the window.  You put the vase down and walked to the kitchen door which looked out into the backyard and orchard.  You put your hand on the knob, then changed your mind, Joel’s cautionary words fresh in your ears.  You stood at the window and looked.  You didn’t see anything.  You heard it again. It sounded like it was coming from the back of the orchard, which you couldn’t see.  All you saw was dirt, grass, a fire pit, neat rows of tree after tree, dead leaves tumbling across the ground with the wind.  Maybe it was the wind.  

When you heard it again, you were unsettled enough to step away from the window.  You went back up to the bedroom, figuring it was the safest place.  You covered yourself in the quilt and hugged one of several pillows, waiting for Joel's return, hiding, praying no one was around.  Hoping no one could possibly know you were there.  Grateful you weren't home alone at a time like this. You kept the bedroom door open so you'd be able to see trouble if it came. 

-

You dozed off and awoke when the back door to the kitchen unlocked downstairs.  Your heart raced and it took a moment to remember where you were.  It was almost dusk outside.  You quietly slid out from under the quilt and prepared to cautiously venture downstairs, assuming it was Joel who just came in the house.  A door closed downstairs, then the water heater turned on. You pulled the quilt back over you and turned off the light, waiting in the dark. After about ten minutes of lying there slowing your heart rate, the water turned off. A few minutes later, a door opened downstairs again. You wished you could fast forward to the next time you'd be in Joel's arms. 

You felt a presence.  "Joel?" It came out far quieter than you intended, but you were too afraid to repeat it louder. The stairs quietly creaked with padded footsteps. The creaking got closer and closer, then stopped.  You sat frozen, looking at a looming shadow in the hall, trying to make sense of it as Joel’s silhouette. The shape looked jagged, angry, nothing like him.  

“Peaches?” his voice made you jump; it was much closer than you thought.  Your hand came to your chest as he stepped into view and asked, “You okay? Thought you might be nappin', didn't wanna wake ya up.'” 

"I'm okay," you said and took a deep breath. "What's going on?"

Joel approached the bed and sat down with his hand on your knee. He was freshly showered and dressed in his own clothes again.  

"I think Abe left, darlin'."    

"Left?? Why??" 

"I dunno, sugar. It was like he just packed up." 

You were stunned. Abe couldn't possibly have packed up and left. This didn't explain anything at all.  You'd have to see it to believe it.  

"No. He wouldn't just leave," you said and got de ja vu. You were quiet. Nothing felt right.  You spent the whole afternoon scared and alone, and now this?

"Sorry, peaches. Didn't know you were close."

"We weren't. I just - I'm surprised. He didn't say anything this week, did he?"

"Sure didn't." 

"Just like Jesse,” you whispered. 

Joel inhaled through his nose as though calming himself. 

“I don't understand it," you said. 

Joel was quiet for a moment.  "People leave, darlin'. But I promise you I won't.  Not ever." 

You mustered half a grateful smile and indulged him. “Promise?”

"Never.”  He looked gravely serious.  “Not unless I take you with me,” he said softer. 

“Thanks,” you said. 

He shook his head.  “I mean it, peaches.  Nothin' in this world could take me away from you." He stroked your thigh and leaned in for a much-needed kiss. 

Then he put his arm around you, rubbed your shoulder, and leaned his temple against yours.  You sat side by side on the bed in silence for a minute, then Joel said, “been a rough day or two, huh?" 

You nodded pensively. 

"I know what we need." 

"What?" 

"How 'bout a special dinner?” he lifted your chin with his finger and your eyes met his affectionately. "There she is." 

"Okay."

"Put on somethin' nice, I'll get cookin'."

“Oh, I didn’t bring much,” you said, embarrassed. 

“Let's check the closet,” he said with a wink. "See what got left behind." 

He kissed you on the head and stood up. It was a shallow closet that rolled open from two doors to expose a single rack of clothes.  He rolled open the left door and there were five or six dresses. They didn't look like anything Ellie or Tess would wear and you didn't know who else could have left them behind. Whoever lived there before, you supposed.   

Joel pulled out two coathangers. A floral wrap dress and a low cut burgundy sweater dress. "See what ya like," he said softly with a sparkle in his eye.  "Take your time. I'll get cookin'." He winked and put the hangers back in the closet before leaving you to the task. 

You stayed seated on the bed and stared into space for a while, thinking about Abe.  Then you got up and put on the burgundy dress. It was a perfect fit. You stood in front of the vanity as the smell of fried rabbit wafted upstairs. You primped yourself and touched your neck, looking yourself in the eyes.  You wanted to be happy, but your eyes were sad.  You opened a dresser drawer looking for socks.  Sure enough, there was a small drawer full of socks and stockings.  Another drawer full of underwear, and even the same type of fabric washable pads you had to use for your period. You dreaded your period coming in a few days. That probably wasn't helping your mood.

-

Joel served a candlelit dinner at a card table in his living room. He said it was safer away from the windows at night.  He wanted to give it another day or two to make sure the community was safe.  He was walking to the table with a bottle of wine and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you in the dress. He put down the bottle and said. "My lands, peaches." He wet his lips. "C'mere, gorgeous." He rubbed your forearms with his thumbs and looked you up and down. "You're so goddamn beautiful," he whispered. 

"You look nice, too," you said. He chuckled. He wasn't wearing anything out of the ordinary but he always looked nice. He took your head in both hands and kissed you softly.  Then he looked at you again, wrapped his arms around you, and kissed you harder with an "Mmm," into your mouth. 

He pulled out your chair for you at the table. He poured your wine, served you salad with no cucumbers, rabbit, eggplant, and applesauce. The salad dressing was incredible. He made it himself. "secret's in the basil" he said proudly. "Gotta mash it up real good, let the flavor out. If ya like it, we got more to plant out back.  Rosemary, too. Make us a little herb garden.” You smiled. The applesauce was amazing, too. 

He got up and retrieved a stone bowl from the counter. "Fresh cinnamon sticks.  I crush’em up dry first. Then add just a little apple to the cinnamon, mash it up so it’s all wet, then add that to the rest at the end."  He tasted the cinnamon mixture with his finger.  “Kinda spicy.”  He dipped his pinky for more and held it up to your mouth.   "Go on," he said.  You held eye contact with him as your tongue met his pinky. The cinnamon was strong.  Delicious.  He took a deep breath as you sucked his digit clean. "Good girl," he whispered, watching you in a trance. He put the bowl back on the counter.  “Use it for cobbler, too. We can make some if ya want.”  You never knew Joel was such a good chef.  

-

You ate quietly. You wanted to let Joel’s nice dinner take your mind off things, but it didn't.  You didn't want to grill him about Abe's house or say anything negative at all since he put so much effort into the meal. He put so much effort into making you feel good in general.  So you tried to pretend you were okay, but he sensed your mood.  

After cleaning up from dinner, the two of you sat down on his sofa in the living room.  He brought whiskey and a bag of pills and put them on the coffee table with two glasses. “Need a good night’s sleep,” he muttered as he sat down and poured a glass.  “How ‘bout you?” 

You didn’t say anything. 

“What’s wrong, peaches?”

You were quiet, but he didn’t let you off the hook.  He looked at you, expecting an answer.  Finally, you blurted out, “I’m lonely.”

Joel looked confused.  “We’re together now, baby."

The tears welled up over your eyes.  “Not right this second. I mean in general.”

Joel swallowed, then nodded.  “Must get lonely on your own.  Why don’t you stay here with me?” He took a sip, put down his drink, and scooted closer.  He rubbed your back.  

You ignored his offer, frustrated that he didn't get it or didn’t care. “Everyone's gone,” you said and started to cry.  “Everyone left.”

Joel’s face darkened and his jaw clenched. His body tensed and he stopped rubbing your back.  He sank back into the sofa and clasped his hands in his lap.  You turned around to face him, expecting more comfort, but he didn’t look at you or open his arms.  

“Not sure what to say to that, peaches," he said flatly.  He took another sip of his drink.  "You mean the world to me, and it sounds like I’m nobody to you.” 

“Of course not,” you said.  Your heart dropped at your foolishness.  Here was the one person you had left.  The best person who could possibly be left.  Someone who would take care of you no matter what it took.  Someone who cared more about you than anything or anyone else.  And instead of being grateful, you acted like he was nothing. 

Joel nodded slowly, looking down with a scowl.  He swallowed. 

You said, "I just miss them, that's all."

His eyes intensified and he took a deep, calming breath. 

“Bill and Frank, I mean,” you clarified, desperate not to make it worse. 

"I know ya do," he said in a near whisper, still looking down.  

You continued, your tears slowing but not stopping.  "It doesn't feel right here with everyone gone." 

“Doesn’t feel right here,” he repeated.  He raised his eyebrows and bit his tongue, sticking it into his cheek. 

You looked away, sensing that you hurt him but unsure what to do.   You sat in silence for what felt like several minutes, both of you looking straight ahead. Your back felt so cold without him comforting you.  

When you looked back at Joel, his eyes were glistening.  “You're enough for me, peaches.” His voice cracked.  “You’re all I need in the world.” He dabbed his eye and your heart broke. "Nothin' feels more right than bein' with you. I love you that much.”

No one ever made you feel that way before, like you were their entire world.  His affection overwhelmed you.  It felt like he cared as much about you as Bill and Frank, just in a different way.  

"I love you too, Joel." You squeezed his thigh reassuringly. 

“No, darlin'.  I’m in love with you. I don’t care about anything else.” 

You turned toward him and tried to meet his eyes.  “I’m in love with you, too.” 

He finally stroked your back.  “You might think so, darlin’.” He sighed.  “And I ‘preciate you sayin’ it. . . But when you say,  ‘it doesn’t feel right here’. . .” He dabbed his eye again.  “I gotta wonder.”

“I do, Joel.” 

“I dunno if you understand love, darlin’.  Or you wouldn’t say that.  And you wouldn’t feel lonely.” 

You were overwhelmed and confused.  It didn’t make sense to you. “I wouldn’t miss my parents?”

“Course you’d miss’em,” he conceded.  “But you wouldn’t feel lonely.” 

“Guess that’s what I meant,” you said.  He nodded and his face warmed slightly. "Plus, I'm worried about Frank," you said and started crying again. Something was tugging at your gut.  You felt worse, not better.

Joel started to say something, but didn't. He rubbed your back. “I know, darlin’. He poured you a glass of whiskey and composed himself. “They’d be proud of ya, how you’re doin’.”  

You laughed through your tears. “Sorry,” you sniffled. “I didn’t mean I was lonely. I’m not.” 

“Okay, darlin’,” he whispered

You couldn’t tell if he really forgave you.  Your whole face felt tense. 

-

Joel looked at you and a look of deep concern washed across his face, realizing how bad he made you feel.  “Hey, hey. . . . c’mere. . . “  He rubbed your back.  You scooted closer and hugged him from the side.  He brought your far leg into his lap so you were twisted over him. “Shhhh,” he said and kissed your forehead, but something was still off about him.  “It’s okay, baby.”  He softened but still felt more distant than usual, like he wasn’t sure he could believe you.  The distance made you panic. 

“I love you, I really do,”  you said.  

He drank the rest of his whiskey and bent forward to put the glass down, then stretched his arm out on top of the sofa.  You tucked one leg under yourself and rested the other leg over his lap.  He draped his hand on your knee, but didn’t make a move to pull you closer.  You climbed into his lap, suddenly more concerned about his feelings than anything else.  

You wanted to be closer to him, as close as possible.  You wanted him wrapped around you, inside you.  You wanted to be a part of him and for him to be a part of you.  You kissed him on the cheek.  He smiled but didn’t look at you, not really.  He looked at your eyes but it felt like he was looking past them.  “Joel,” you whined, eyes welling up at the lack of validation.   You cupped his face in both your hands and kissed him.  His lips pressed softly into yours.  You looked back and forth between his eyes, trying to connect enough to show him how much you meant it. 

“I wanna be with you,” you whispered.  “I don’t care about anything else.” 

Something behind his eyes flickered on.  “You mean that, peaches? You don’t care about anything else?” 

You nodded and pressed your lips into his again. 

He asked, “You sure?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” 

His hands embraced your back and the affection returned to his eyes full-force like it was in the morning.  He wet his lips. 

“Good,” he whispered.  “It’s you and me, darlin’. We only got each other.” 

You nodded. 

-

He looked from your eyes to your mouth and back, closed his eyes, cradled the back of your head, and kissed you deeply.  He held you and kissed you, the taste of whiskey fading after a few seconds as your mouths combined.  He pulled you closer into his lap and his jeans hardened against your dress and panties, making your core tingle.  He moaned into your mouth and your panties moistened rapidly.  His cock was big, and feeling it get so hard just for you made you feel special. Earlier, when you said you wanted him inside you, he said you were still being shy with him.  He said you hadn’t even touched it yet, that you weren’t giving him everything.  

You wanted to show him you could give him everything.  His big hands pulled you close and his hips lifted your body as he licked into your mouth. His hard cock pressed perfectly against your clit as his hips moved.  You reached down and unbuttoned his jeans, then tugged his shirt up and he let you untuck it.  He was truly in the moment.  He was yours.  You gently grabbed at the bulge in his jeans – it was more than a handful – and he thrust into your palm with a sigh. 

You broke the kiss to unzip his jeans, and he watched you like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.  You slid your hand into his pants and softly gasped as you felt the stiff outline of his cock through his boxers.  His hips lifted into your hand with a soft grunt and he said, “Givin’ me everything, aren’t ya baby?”

You nodded earnestly.  He slid his hand between your legs, ghosting your clit over your panties, making you moan.  

“Wanna make you feel good,” you whispered, groping his hard cock and feeling a wet spot at the tip.  

“Always feel good when I'm with you, darlin’.” 

“Want it in my mouth,” you said.  

He inhaled sharply. “Fuck, darlin’.”  His eyes widened. “That what you want?”

“Yeah,” you nodded and got down on the carpet. 

You got out of the way while he took his jeans off for you.  

He spread his knees again and pulled the waistband of his boxers down below his balls.  He wrapped his fingers around the shaft with his thumb at the tip.  Butterflies swarmed between your legs at the sight of his strong hand holding his cock at attention for you. You nestled yourself between his legs.  

“You sure?” he asked and looked you over. 

You wet your lips and nodded without taking your eyes off his imposing cock. 

“Alright, darlin’.” He looked at you with pride and curiosity. 

You held his cock at the base and opened your mouth, hovering over the tip. 

“Just a little kiss,” he murmured. 

You pressed your lips against the tip and kissed it, sucking the salty precum into your mouth. 

“Good girl,” he sighed. “Now a little at a time.” 

You wrapped your lips around the tip and licked it, looking up at his face for approval.  The look on his face made you wet.  Joel sighed and tried not to lift his hips. “Good. Doin’ great, baby.” 

You sucked a little more of him into your mouth. He was so big, the head alone seemed to stretch your jaw. 

“Good, baby.  Nice and slow, not too much.” His velvety tip grazed the roof of your mouth.  You throbbed between the legs, wishing so badly to have him there instead.  But you had to show him you could give him everything.  

You braced the shaft at the base and the humidity of his salt and pepper hair made you throb more. You sucked and tongued his shaft and looked up at him for approval. 

“Good girl,” he nodded.  His validation made you slurp more of him into your mouth, a little too much, and you started gagging. 

“Easy, darlin’, hold on,” he chuckled.  “Take a breather,” he said.  

You were a little embarrassed.  “I wanna do it,” you whispered. 

“Okay,” he smiled.  “How ‘bout you lick it, get it real wet for us.” 

You salivated at the sight of his cock in his hand and licked him from base to tip three times -  once on the underside, and once from each side.  

“Now use your hand, darlin’.” You hesitantly wrapped your fingers and thumb around his shaft and he swelled into your hand.  His cock dwarfed your fingers, making you wetter. You were salivating.

You asked, “Are you sure you don’t want my mouth?”

“Darlin’, I love your hands.” 

He covered your hand with his and stroked himself with it. 

His hips thrust into your hand and it was so easy to imagine yourself impaled on his cock, it was all you could think about.  

“Give it another kiss, baby.” 

You brought the tip into your mouth again, then licked his cock from base to tip and sucked the head again, curiously tonguing the salty slit. You left as much saliva as you could.  

“Good girl,” he murmured and took your hand in his again. 

You ached to have him inside you. You wet your lips thirstily. 

He watched your face as his breath grew heavier. “Whatcha thinkin’ bout, peaches?”

You had a feeling he knew.  You looked down at his cock then back up at him, then away.  

“Don’t be shy, baby.” 

You looked up and made eye contact. “Putting our bodies together,” you said breathily and watched his face melt into a puddle of want. 

He inhaled through his nose, then murmured, “Want that real bad, don’t ya?” 

You nodded.

“Why’s that, darlin’?” His lips glistened and his eyes were half-lidded. 

“Wanna feel you inside me.” 

He breathed heavier as your hands slid up and down on his shaft.  He asked, “How ya think it’s gonna feel?” 

“I’m gonna be full of you. Attached to you.” 

“Yeah, you will,”  he nodded.  His grip tightened around your hand as he stroked himself. “You’ll be so full of me, baby. ..” 

“I really wanna be,” you whispered. You wanted it so bad you could cry.  “I need to be.”

“You will be, baby,” he said soothingly.  “You want your mouth filled up now?”

“Yeah,” you hovered your mouth near his cock again.  

“Go ‘head, baby.  Take it, it’s yours.” He took his hand away and put it gently on the back of your head.  

You sucked the tip of his cock into your mouth again and made eye contact as you sucked.  

He groaned and his thumb stroked the nape of your neck, then he lifted his hips and erupted in your mouth.  His warm, salty spend hit the roof of your mouth, then the tip slid back along your palate, and he pulsed again.  More cum hit the back of your throat.  Your eyes watered and you swallowed. 

“You did so good, baby.” 

-

He tucked his cock into his boxers and spooned you on the sofa.  

“Why’s it feel so good, doing that?” you asked.  

“Doin’ what?”

“Just having it in my mouth.”

“S’posed to, baby.  Your body’s gettin’ ready for mine.” His words sent a pang of desire between your legs. “Turns you on, right?” He reached under your dress and stroked your panties from the outside.  He felt the dampness and murmured, “Guess it does.” 

“A lot,” you said.  He began stroking your clit rhythmically over the cotton.  Your hips started to move on their own in his hand. You moaned softly. 

He slid his hand into the front of your panties and thumbed your soft curls.  “It’s ‘cause your special parts think I’m fixin’ to put mine right here.” He dipped his middle finger into the pool of wetness hanging at your entrance. 

“I wish you would,” you sighed.  

He groaned softly at those words, the blood already flowing back to his loins.  “You really do, huh?” His voice was low and soft. “You really wanna be full of me.” He wet his fingers with your slick and began gently circling your clit. “Attached to me.” 

“Yeah,” you said. “More than anything.” 

“Love hearin’ that, peaches.”  He held you tighter. 

“I wanna give you everything,” you said. 

“Gotta be ready, darlin’,” he said into the crown of your head.  

“I’m ready.”

“Your body too, angel.” You could hear the smile in his voice. 

“My body wants yours so bad,” you whined.

“Wantin’ it’s not enough, baby.”

You groaned in frustration. 

“Well. . . you tell me, darlin’.  You’ve had it in your mouth now.  Think it’ll fit in this sweet little hole?”  he swirled his finger around. 

“I dunno,” you sighed.   Your body didn’t care, it wanted whatever he would give you. “I’m sorry,” you muttered.

“For what?”

“Not having my body ready.” 

“Oh peaches, I’m glad you’re not.  It’ll be a privilege gettin’ you there.” He gently circled your clit. 

“Really?”

“Of course, darlin’,” he said softly. “Sometimes they bloom late for a reason.” He dipped his finger into your wetness again. “And this one’s just for me, ain’t it?”

“Yeah,” you whispered.  

“We’ll get there, baby.  We’ll get there in time.” 

“Okay,” you sighed. 

“Let’s see how much you can handle,” he said. “See what it’ll take to get there.” 

“Yeah,” you said.  “Please.” You lifted your thigh to make more room for his hand.

He slowly slid half his middle finger into your tight, wet heat. You moaned at his first intrusion. 

He sucked air in through his teeth.  “How’s that feel, baby?” 

“I want more.” 

He took a deep breath and pushed his finger all the way in.

You whimpered, “yeah,” as your body adjusted. 

“God damn,” he whispered as your cunt hugged his digit. 

He curled his finger just slightly and you moaned again. “It’s so thick,” you said.  

“See? Got a long way to go.” His cock twitched against your ass.

“No, it feels good,” you said as he slowly moved his finger inside you.  “I want more.”  

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you answered impatiently.  

“Just one more.”  You squinted in frustration.  Why just one more? 

He took his middle finger out and flattened it alongside his ring finger.  He slid them up and down your slippery seam before slowly plunging them inside together. It was a tight squeeze.   “God damn,” he breathed. He paused half-way in. 

“Feels so good,” you panted.  “Keep going,” you begged. 

“Don’t wanna hurt ya.”

“Doesn’t hurt at all.”

He slowly sank his two fingers into you completely.  “Real snug,” he muttered. “You sure it doesn’t hurt?”

“Too snug? Is that bad?”

“No, no, not at all, baby. But it’s gonna take time to be ready.” He began to move the heel of his palm against your clit and you grinded back against it.  

“God, Joel,” you sighed. 

“Gonna take time,” he repeated.  “‘fore you’re ready for this,” he said with a thrust of his hips, grinding himself into your ass, already fully erect again. He thrust against you again with a soft grunt. 

You asked “You want it too, don’t you?” 

“Course I do, baby,” he panted. “Gotta feel good for both of us, though. Gotta do it right.” He kissed your head and curled his fingers inside you, digging the meat of his hand against your clit again. “Gotta be real special.”

Your clit twitched against his hand and he said, “C’mon, baby,” moving his hand at a slow rhythm. “Every time you come, gets us closer to what we want.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, sugar.”  He breathed heavily with his body enveloping yours, pumping his fingers deep in your cunt, pressing his palm against your clit. 

You let your hips grind back unrestrained. 

“There ya go, darlin’,” he said, pressing his hard cock against you as he moved his fingers.  “Yeah, just like that.” 

You closed your eyes and pretended his fingers were his cock. You knew his cock would feel even better. 

“Can’t wait to be inside ya, baby,” he whispered. “Nothin’ I want more.” He slowly pumped his fingers deeper into you as your body opened up for him.  “Wanna slide into this tight little hole,” he panted, his cock rutting gently against your ass.  “Want you wrapped around me.” He rubbed his palm against your front. “Yeah. . .wrapped so tight around me, baby. Like ya can’t pull us apart”  Your hips grinded into his hand with your climax in sight. “Gonna have you so full of me,” he breathed, then he moaned with a harder thrust against you.   “Joined together,” he added. “Forever, baby. It’s forever,” he whispered in your ear.  “Me and you.” You whined on the edge of your climax.  “C’mon, baby,” he whispered, pumping his fingers, rocking his palm, grinding against your ass. 

He thrust against your ass with a grunt, and his grunt in your ear was enough for you to see stars.  “Joel,” you whined. 

“Yeah,” he said as your climax seized you. You whimpered as you came. “Yeah, I got ya, baby,” he whispered.  “Good girl.” He kissed your head. 

-

He held you and caressed you as you bathed in the afterglow. It gave you clarity on how wrong you were earlier.  You felt the things he felt.  You realized how hurt you would have been if he said the same things – That he was lonely, that it didn’t feel right there.  

“I’m not lonely,” you whispered.  “And of course it feels right, bein’ with you.”

“Okay, baby.”  He kissed your head.  

“Guess I meant the town didn’t feel. . .”  You meant the town. Your stomach dropped as you realized it.

The town. If Abe was really gone, you and Joel were the only two people left in Lincoln.  Joel was the town.  You couldn’t put your finger on why, but you felt like you might be sick.  

“I know, darlin’,” he said obliviously. “But in a way, it’s nice we have this time together.”  His arms tightened around you. “Silver lining.  Right?”  He sighed. “We’re together, don’t care about nothin’ else.” 

“Right,” you whispered and tried not to think about it.  You shivered and Joel rubbed your arms.  “It’s chilly down here. Let’s get you tucked into bed.” 

-

Joel showed you the restroom and your toiletries and towels.  He offered you a painkiller to help you sleep. You didn’t want to take it, but he left it on the nightstand with a glass of whiskey in case you needed it.  “Know it’s weird, sleepin’ somewhere new,” he said. He took a nightgown out of the dresser for you.  He kissed you good night, then shut your door behind him.  

You woke up in the middle of the night when you heard something metal clang then rumble outside.  You felt safer with Joel in the house, but you wanted his arms around you. Maybe he’d let you climb in his bed.  Surely he wouldn’t turn you away.  He was being a gentleman, offering you a bed of your own. You opened your bedroom door as quietly as possible and gathered the courage to go downstairs.  

Downstairs, you pushed his bedroom door open.  “Joel?” you whispered. He didn’t answer. “Joel?” There was a flickering glow outside his window, which made it harder to see the inside of the room until your eyes adjusted.  

He wasn’t in bed.  Not the bathroom, either.  You sat down on his bed and smoothed your hand over his pillow.  You dipped your nose into the cotton and inhaled his scent, closing your eyes.  It gave you a rush of comfort.  A metal clang jolted you back to the moment and the flickering light brightened for a moment.  Your heart raced.  You carefully peeked out the window and faintly saw what looked to be the silhouette of Joel standing over a burning barrel.  You felt like you should go back upstairs, as much as you wanted to curl up in his bed, inhaling his scent.  

Your heart was beating too fast to get back to sleep, and you didn’t know why.  You paced around the room and looked out the window.   You sat at the vanity.  You looked in the drawers.  You were waiting to hear the door open downstairs.  Then you could pretend to come down for the first time.  Joel would comfort you, kiss you, cuddle you to sleep.  But the door didn’t open downstairs.  You paced more and sat on the bed.  You opened the closet and looked at the dresses again. You held one up in the mirror. 

You opened the other closet door and something caught your eye.  In the back, on the very last hanger, there was a dress that made your breath hitch.  White with lace sleeves.  The longer you looked at it, the more butterflies gathered in your chest.  Maybe your eyes betrayed you.  It was too dark to tell.  You closed the closet, took the painkiller, and got back in bed.  You listened out for the door and tried to conjure the feeling of Joel’s arms around you. That was all you wanted. 

-

Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Thank you for your patience, too.  I love you guys!!!

I'm not sure if there will be one more part or two; I have to see how it writes. I feel like probably two, but it could be one long one with a little bit of a time jump.

-

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339   @manazo @wolvesandvampires  @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor 

Lincoln: @fan-fiction-floozy @ivyblxnde @lhymer1995 @sugarspiceanthrax @isimpforfictionalmen @zynbsblogg @swedishscumfuck @sadgirlstoohightocare @steveharringtonswh0re @skythighs @aoziety @leeeesahhh @jupitersmoon-cal @peekymoon @dtfawn 

(ct'd in comments or reblogs)

[brotherwtf]

How about Gale overhearing John talking about him to someone? (with positive outcome)

oooo now this is a very interesting prompt, thanks anon!!

decided to basically mash up all of my fave clegan scenes into one big rainbow scene, I hope you guys enjoy :))

----

John often ran his mouth, both sober and with a drink in him, but the stories always seemed to flow more with the flow of liquor into his system. Always bragging, always galavanting about someone or something to any ear that would listen, especially if it was about his favorite subject, Gale Cleven.

Exaggerating stories until the Major seemed more myth than man, talking to anyone who would listen about all of their escapades, good and bad.

And John would do it no matter if the man himself was there or not, and often did it despite Gale's best wishes.

But even now, as Gale sits on the edge of the dance floor, he can hear John's loud and unabashed laugh as he starts to weave another tale for the poor dames he has coerced. Gale noticed the slightly tense smiles of a woman who was originally only interested in getting beneath John's uniform now being blathered at by a Major far drunker than she expected.

"Nah but my buddy, Buck, here, he don't like sports. Not team sports anyway, likes boxing, 'test of manhood' or whatever the fuck that means," John says, eyes lazy as he points jovially back at Gale, recalling the night Curt lay an RAF pilot on the ground with a singular jab. Gale couldn't help but smile at the memory.

"Was gonna slug that RAF pilot himself the nasty fucker. Ah, he had it coming, don't you worry girls. Buck woulda knocked him straight on his British ass I just know it, there's nothing our Buck can't do, can probably take on the whole Luftwaffe by himself, all engines feathered. Hey, Buck!" John says, turning back towards Gale with loose limbs and gesturing for him to stand next to him.

Usually, Gale would be content to sit on the sidelines and watch John act a fool, but John was gesturing so heavily that it felt like he had a string attached to Gale's chest, pulling him over with just a beckon. Even when Gale puts himself right in the crook of John's body, right where he seemed to fit, John so easily puts his arm around Gale's shoulder.

"Tell em, No-Engine Cleven, nah I'll tell em, he's the best damn pilot in the 100th, hell, maybe even the whole air force, my Buck here is just too good, I wish I could fly half as good as him," John says, leaning his weight into Gale's, leaning so that his face is dangerously close to his.

Gale feels warmth bloom in his stomach but he just lets himself roll his eyes, wrapping a stabilizing arm around John's waist to prevent him from toppling over, giving the women a friendly yet tight smile.

"Easy there, Major, now I think it's best we turn in for the night. It was lovely meeting you ladies," Gale says, keeping his voice clipped and polite despite hearing the girls murmurs of how drunk John seemed to be.

The cool of the English night hits Gale's hot cheeks as soon as he drags John out of the officers club, hiding his tight smile into the night.

"Don't gotta go bragging on me, Bucky, I can hail my own victories," Gale says, breath misting in the air.

John smiles at him, swaying dangerously into Gale as they walk clumsily back to the barracks.

"It's all true, my love, someone's gotta say it and it might as well be me," John says, planting a wet smacking kiss to Gale's cheek.

Gale really should be more careful, but he seems to be getting drunk just on John's warmth and turns his head to press a careful kiss to John's lips, one that's far too slow for John's liking.

"It's my pleasure, Gale, you're my favorite thing to talk about," John says, a rogue hand coming up to squeeze Gale's cheeks and bring him in for another kiss, not being able to help the smile that spreads across both of their faces.

[mediumgayitalian]

part one

———

Finding parking is, as expected, hard, largely in part because Michael wants to get them all killed.

“— yeah, that’s right, shitwad! Back off! We were here —”

“Will you please shut the fuck up,” Lee hisses, jamming the switch for Michael’s window. Unfortunately, Michael is sticking his fucking head out of it, so it won’t close.

“This fucking guy! This fucking guy thinks he can swoop up to our spot —”

“Motherfucker we’re in Wilmington, do you want to get fucking shot —”

“He can wait his godsdamn turn like everybody else! Hey, fucker —”

He succeeds, finally, in yanking his brother back in by the scruff of his neck and speeding away from the shitwad in question.

“I can’t believe you let him walk all over us!”

“If I end up with a bullet hole through my windshield, I am kicking your ass, Michael. I won’t need to worry about some trigger happy mortal taking you out. I’ll kill you.”

“Drama queen. Now we’re never gonna find a damn spot.”

They do, in fact, find a damn spot. Within forty-three seconds of Michael saying that, actually, Will points out not just a parking spot but a pull-through, which Lee takes, smirking. Michael aims a kick for his knee.

“Go help Will unbuckle, you bitter bitch. I gotta grab something.”

Ignoring both Michael’s grumbling and Will’s insistence that he can unbuckle himself, thank you very much, Lee jogs over to the trunk. He grabs his and Michael’s bows, just in case, and carefully grabs the bundle of roses he bought from the stand across from his apartment. The stems are a little crushed, but the flowers all seem fine, full and bright, sunny yellow. Even the paper is relatively uncrinkled, folding delicately around the thorny leaves.

Michael nods when he sees them. “Nice.”

“Thanks.” Lee tosses him his bow, slinging his own over his back. It flickers with his quiver under the Mist, settling eventually to look like a small backpack. “Got ‘em this morning.”

“Can I hold them?” Will asks.

“Sure, kiddo.”

He lays them gently in his arms, the same way Cass has taught him to bundle herbs and plants when they gather for poultices. Every step is suddenly much more deliberate, avoiding potholes and cracks in the pavement so he doesn’t trip and crush them under his body. When he nearly walks in front of a car, not paying attention, Michael plants a hand on his head, guiding him around like a claw machine.

“Okay,” Lee says, holding open the door. “Let’s find Diana.”

The lobby is crowded. There are people everywhere — families, grandparents, and of course dozens of dancers, shining hair pieces glinting in the low lights, tutus and rhinestones peeking out of studio sweatsuits. Faces heavy with stage makeup bleed into each other. The building is abuzz with sound, chatter and laughter and shouting and twenty different songs playing at once. Lee can hardly believe they’re all fitting in the same building, and almost convinces himself it’s actually enchanted, smaller on the outside. He glances down when Will backs into him, flowers clutched tighter to his chest, and rests a firm hand on his shoulder. He hooks his finger around Michael’s hoodie, too, and for once he doesn’t complain.

“You see her?” he shouts over the noise. Or, well, Lee’s pretty sure that’s what he said. He shakes his head, anyway, and Michael scowls, standing uselessly on his tiptoes. Even if that didn’t put him just barely over most people’s shoulders, the throng of people is too thick to see much. People elbow and push each other around to meet up with family members, and groups of dancers do their best to practice their routines in what limited space is available. Lee has felt less claustrophobic in Times Square at Christmas.

In a stroke of brilliance, in his very humble opinion, he lets go of Will’s shoulder, puts both hands under his arms, and hauls him over his head, settling him on his shoulders.

“Keep an eye out,” he shouts.

Will grins, tugging on Lee’s hair with his free hand in confirmation.

One hand clamped over Will’s knees, the other still hooked on Michael’s hoodie, Lee starts to wade through the crowd. He can start to see, as he gets farther from the door, the entrance to the stage, the ticket stands, the coat check. Several banners hang temporarily from the ceiling and stick to doorways, welcoming them all to the Twenty-Sixth Annual Believe Dance Comp!, and a table laden with trophies sits proudly by the stage doors.

Sitting under one of the banners, Lee notices a group of girls of varying ages, all wearing the green and purple Stage Lights Dance Academy Cass sometimes wears. He guides them closer, scanning each stage makeup-ed face to try and find his sister, but stops short before he gets too close.

Two girls, sitting at the head of the group, mime twisting their hair, exaggeratedly anxious looks on their faces. The rest of the girls roar with laughter.

Lee feels something heavy settle in his stomach.

“You think anyone will come for her?” a younger girl asks, hushed so that Lee can barely hear her over the crowd.

One of the older girls snorts. “Are you kidding? The only way her mom will come is if there’s an open bar!”

Lee is reminded of the one and only time he’d fought a group of empousai. There’d been a trio of them a Central Park, on a field trip he’d gone on with his ninth grade class, surrounding one of the oak dryads. They’d crooned at her, tugging on her leafy hair and trailing clawed fingers down her handmade dress, calling out backhanded compliments. But Lee’s skin felt like it was crawling, he remembers, and the dryad had been tense, green tears building in her eyes. Every bleat of their laughter had grated his ears, and he’d snapped, eventually, ripping off his bow and picking them off one by one. The third one had seen him, chasing him away from his group, but he’d been so mad that he wasn’t even scared. The dryad hadn’t done anything. They got nothing from poking at her. They’d just done it to be cruel, because it was fun for them.

“I don’t even know why she has the gall to show up. She missed the final practice.”

“Miss Breanna likes her, that’s why,” one of the girls scoffs. “Of course she can skiff off practice and still compete. She thinks she’s so much better than us.”

Michael shifts forward. Lee throws out an arm to stop him, shooting him a warning look.

“You think anyone’ll take your side?” he murmurs.

“They’re talking about —!”

“I know, Michael.”

“They can’t talk about her like that!”

“I know, Michael.” He forces his jaw to unclench. “I know.”

“Yeah, well, favourite or not,” another dancer says wickedly, “her seats will be empty again. And she’ll walk out empty-handed and alone, like she always does.”

Most of the adults milling about the lobby hold flowers, like they do. Except unlike them, their bouquets are large, unlike them the stems are not crushed, unlike them they are wrapped in ribbons, in embroidered banners. One is, even, shaped as a ballet slipper, and Lee notices the oldest girl in the group, the one who made the joke about Cass’s mother, eyeing it, smirking.

He pictures Cass holding it next to all the other girls from her studio. With their big, normal families, their wide smiles, their fancy cameras, their beautiful, expensive bouquets. Pictures the smirks that will be sent her way, the whispers. They can’t — gods, what was he thinking?

“What time is it?” he asks.

Michael glances at his watch. “Quarter to.”

“Hm.”

In her frantic IM, yesterday, Diana had ordered them to be here by noon. From what little he knows about dance competitions, Cass’s performance will be sometime after that, nestled among the many. When exactly, he doesn’t know.

If they leave now, wagering, they could miss it. And that would be the worst thing of them all. But…

“Will,” he says, suddenly getting an idea. “C’mere.”

He reaches up and sets Will back on the ground, clutching his hand as he weaves through the crowd, beelining for the far corner. He stops at a sign with a little stick person on it, gently taking the flowers from Will’s hold and passing them back to Michael.

“Listen to me carefully.” He crouches to Will’s level, meeting his eyes. “Diana is — somewhere, in there, getting Cass ready. Michael and I can’t go in there. We need you to go in and act really confused.”

“That will be very easy, because I am confused,” Will protests. “Why do I have to go in there? I don’t even really know why we’re here!”

“Just — go in,” Lee insists. “Trust me. If I give you more instructions, it’ll ruin it.”

Huffing, Will goes.

“Brilliant,” Michael mutters. “Lose the kid and Diana. Great plan, Lee.”

“Come on, does no one trust me?”

“No one knows what you’re doing, dude! You hang around Carter for five minutes and suddenly you think you’re Mr. Plan Guy —”

Lee flushes. “That is not what this is about!”

“I am not missing this! I swear Lee, if we’re late —”

“We’re not gonna be late!”

“Why is it that every boy on Earth is actually stupid,” hisses a new voice. The change room door busts open, damn near cracking under the heel of a heavy boot, and Diana comes striding out behind it, Will perched on her hip. Her short dark hair sticks out in every which way, shoulders tense as a line, mouth twisted in a scowl. Immediately, Lee and Michael snap their mouths shut.

“Hey,” Will complains, pouting.

She adjusts her hold on him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Not you, sweetpea. Only Thing One and Thing Two, over here.” She glares at them. “Why did I find him wandering around in the change room? I told you to wait for me in the lobby! I swear you two want to — ruin this!”

“Hey,” Lee says, flinching back. “You know we don’t, Diana. That’s not fair.”

She scrubs a hand down her face, sighing. “I know. I know. I’m sorry. It’s just —” She presses another kiss to Will’s cheek and sets him down, leaning on the doorframe. “It’s been a rough morning. She keeps trying to call her mom, and — well.”

Lee hates that those girls were right. He hates it. He hates that they’ve been right before, that Cass has walked off the stage, face blank, alone. Hearing their giggling, probably. Twisting her hair around her fingers as she tries to hold it together.

His jaw tightens.

Not this fucking time.

“What time is Cass on?” he asks

“…Her solo at one-thirty,” Diana says. “But —”

“Great.” Lee grabs each brother’s shoulder, pulling them back. “We won’t be late, Diana, I promise.”

“Wait! Lee — dude, what are you —”

“We’ll meet you inside! Save us seats!”

“Lee! Get back here!”

“Seats!” Lee calls, glancing back. He makes a vague gesture in return to her incredulous, spread-wide hands, trying to convey the Situation. “We won’t be late! Promise!”

“I’ll kill you if you are!” she relents. “Be fucking back on time!”

———

In hindsight, it would have been smarter to take the car.

For whatever reason, both Lee and Michael assumed there would be a flower stand just outside the theatre. Neither of them had seen one on the way in, but it made sense. If Lee had a flower business, he’d probably put it next to a theatre. Where else would you put it?

Regardless, there isn’t anything close across the street, or even on the whole block. Will sits on his shoulders again, because it’s easier than trying to guide him, and every so often he glances at the watch Beckendorf made him, calling out the time.

“Will,” Lee begs, veering around a street corner, “you are not helping.”

“I am so!” He checks his watch again. “Twenty-seven minutes ‘til Cass starts. That’s why we’re here, right? To watch Cass dance?”

“So long as we make it in time,” Michael stresses. “Shit, Lee, maybe we should just head back. The flowers we have are fine —”

“Cass deserves more than fine.”

Michael snaps his mouth shut. “I know that.”

Lee slumps. “I — know you know. Sorry.”

Their steps fall in synch, footsteps making level prints in the light dusting of snow. On occasion a passing car drowns them out, but for the most part the only sound is their breathing, and Will picking at his nails. The shifting of their jackets.

“You’ll never undo it, Lee.” The road cross button makes a heavy click noise under Michael’s fist. The countdown for the walking man is loud, four, three, two, one. Three of the little lights are broken, making it look like its chest is cracked open. “There’s some shit you just can’t fix.”

“I’m not trying to — fix her,” he argues weakly. “I’m just…”

He can’t push away the horrible ache in his chest. The rapidly expanding feeling, the sinking chasm of expecting and hoping and being disappointed. Of looking out into the crowd to find a familiar face and not finding one. Of hearing giggles as you walk past and clenching your teeth, knowing. It balloons, pushing out on his ribcage, forcing its way up his throat.

Michael stops, arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed. Lee stares at a spot at the air above his shoulder, swallowing roughly, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood.

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, Lee. You think competing with those assholes is gonna — go back? Gonna magically bring her fucking — hell, bring Dad?”

Lee looks away. “Of course not.”

“We’re going to be there. That’s what matters, isn’t it? That’s what’s really important.”

“Oh, to hell with high horses, Michael. I’m fucking tired of — of pretending it’s okay!” He starts forward again, ignoring the twinge of pain in his skull when Will grips his hair, yelping at the sudden surge forward. Michael jogs to keep up. “It’s — fight these monsters, train these kids, lead your cabin. Ignore the fact that your dad couldn’t be assed to visit a few times a year, he’s an Olympian, after all, you understand. Well, I’m tired of it! I’m tired of —” he trips over a crack in the sidewalk, barely catching himself — “I’m tired of being so damn understanding!”

For a moment Michael says nothing. Lee’s breathing is heavy, shakey, and it takes effort to still the tremble in his hands.

“The girl,” Michael says eventually. “The prissy one, who sat closer to the door.”

“…What about her?”

“I just.” He chews at his bottom lip. “I’m not saying I disagree with you, dude, but you have issues, dude, and shit you need to work out. For real. Besides just —” he gestures broadly at the mostly empty street — “ranting into the air.” Slowly, a smirk spreads across his face. “It would be really, really funny to see her face if Cass walks out with a bouquet three times the size of hers, wouldn’t it.”

Lee matches his grin. “It would be.”

“Betcha she’d seethe.”

“Probably turn purple.”

They turn to each other, finally back in synch.

“Nineteen minutes,” Will pipes up.

Lee startles. He checks his own watch. “Oh, shit. Let’s go.”

———

part three

[spnfanficpond]

August 2024 Angel Fish Awards

(Angel Fish design by @slytherkins!!)

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words. (Click here to learn more about how to nominate a fic for an award!)

Nominated by @autisticandroids

like my waffle house hashbrowns by @spnregular

Extremely unique pwp. It involves at one point jerking off a plant. It also involves Dean comparing Cas to his car: “You know how I take care of my things. Keep ‘em clean, fine tuned,” Dean said, “Just like Baby.” Which is just *chef kiss*. And it's hair-washing kink. Which is so much fun.

~*~*~

Nominated by @aylacavebear

Things Learned and Unlearned by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

The author has a way with words, pulling you into a world all their own. I got hooked on this with the first chapter. This story has ALL the feels and it's not even finished yet. A truly amazing author.

~*~*~

Nominated by @evadne01

Gabe Lives And Loves by @masoena

I find this story while I was trying to cope after seeing again season 13. And this warmed my heart and I felt so good after reading it! Loved it, loved the arts of the story!

~*~*~

Nominated by @heavenssexiestangel

A Means to an End by Pieafterdemons

I was looking for some darker stuff to read and as many know, I love Alastair/Dean. So, I found this li'l story here. It's Dead Dove so be warned of the tags and what they entail. I like how the writer wrote the whump and the darkness of it all, and how Dean came to say yes. I also like the dark and yet not stereotypical idea of Alastair.

~*~*~

Nominated by @leatafandom

Making the Cut by @deeranger

This story was so deliciously dark, creepy, and horrifying. It is wonderfully written, the word choice the way they wove themes through and illicit stomach-turning emotions. It was a thrill to read and just one of new my favorite dark fics. A wonderful read if you're into dark themes.

State of Grace by @cloverhighfive

It's a very different story! Very interesting read!!!

~*~*~

Nominated by @mariekoukie6661

The Harvest by @cloverhighfive

It's a very different story! Very interesting read!!!

~*~*~

Nominated by @mrswhozeewhatsis

The King's Seraph Consort (series) by @ladylilithprime

I've been enjoying Lady's Sastiel offerings when I need a little pick-me-up, and this little mini-series made me SWOON! Sam's so heroic! Sam and Dean are devoted to each other! Sam is so kind to Cas! Gabriel is wise, and yet still a wiseass! And this little two-part series is a perfect snack when I don't have time for anything bigger. It's adorable and sweet and makes me fall in love with Sam even more.

~*~*~

Nominated by @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes

The Perfect Submissive (Google translated title) by Natcumirun (AO3)

The story is in Russian. I use Google translate. Shhh. Aside from the kink, it’s interesting how fear shapes our views and that it tends to take a very confident, knowledgeable person to show that sometimes the fear is just us needing to process childhood pain. It’s an interesting take and I love how the relationship develops between a much older, teacher Castiel and 18 y/o Dean.

Thunderstorm by @anyreiart

This is such a twist to the Omegaverse and the human Castiel. I had never thought of this and so glad someone did. It’s so quaint and domestic. Oh, the fluff is amazing. The connection these two have and how Dean is able to overcome his expectations as well as their relationship hiccups because of his Alpha, it’s beautiful. He even aids in guiding the newly human Castiel and new omega in the human world with his love. Yes, I’m a hopeless romantic.

Soother by @hartlessfiction

I was literally jumping up and down when Dean started arguing with Cas and Cas is so confused, then the pheromones hit. True mates. Just fluffy-fluff, schmoopy and adorable!

Cornerstone by @gracefreakdean

That’s a love story. That’s a true love story. Oh; I hope one day they write more. I’m in love with this beautiful, well-done story that begins like it could be anyone else’s.

Castiel Enjoys Enya by @naked-covered-in-bees

It’s fluffy and cute. Cas is not getting that it's what's on the tapes that Dean likes, not the tape itself but points out that it’s from him, which is why he likes it. I love how Claire explains and their relationship dynamic. Seems so spot on and so canon. I love all of this. It’s an adorable and quick read.

~*~*~

Nominated by @spnbabe67

Touch Me by @zepskies

As a bigger girl whose love language is physical touch, this hit home. My best friend and adopted sister came from a place where physical affection wasn't prominent so trying to get used to it on both our parts is so real in this writing. Dean's uncomfortableness with the reader's overabundance of physical contact, and the readers self self-consciousness while they are trying to go to sleep is such a real, raw, human thing. I loved this so much!

He's Not A Machine! by @mind-empty-just-fictional-people

I love Stanford era!Dean and this is a scene I 100% know happened at one point. And on a biblical level I needed to have John be read a new one for the way he pushed and pushed Dean.

(Divider by @glygriffe)

THANK YOU ALL, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

- From your Admins and Manta Rays, @manawhaat, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @thoughtslikeaminefield, @heavenssexiestangel, and @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes!

[a-wolfs-bad-moon-rising]

Liquid Courage

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Reader *Smut*

(I really wanna write more regularly and I am thirsting after this man so hard)

Soap: Oh watcha writing lass? Somethin for the lassies?

(Wolf): YES DON'T LOOK!

Soap: Why not? *peeks* Oh. Yer one o'dem?

(Wolf): Just let us have this Soap

The liquor stings my tongue as I take another sip. I've always been a lightweight and tonight is no different. After a rough mission me and the boys need a load off. We sit in the bar drinking silly. I even seen tight ass Price looses up. Ghost is incoherent, his accent mixed with slurring was impossible to make out. I simply smiled and nodded. My drunken stupor has made me less shy. And so horny.

Soap took notice. Of the former not the latter. I smile drunkenly at him and he beckons me over with his finger. The pressure between my thighs is intense and I saunter over to him mentally hoping for relief.

This is how I ended up on my back in Soap's room, my bare skin pressed against his soft sheets while he ate me out like I was brunch. The stubble on his head grazed my thighs and I squeezed harder as his tongue continued his movements. He teased my clit with his tongue, the cool wetness of it exciting my further. He breathes on my pussy and I jerk in frustration. His deep accent breaks through the haze.

"Gosh bonnie. Ye taste so good." He delves back in his lips and tongue on my pussy again eating like a starved man. My thighs clamp tighter and his strong biceps hold me open. I cry out as the cool air hits my sensitive flesh. I call out his name as he brings me close.

"Yer close yeah?"

I babble out incoherent words of agreement. Soap sucks harder on my clit. Harder and more as my orgasm rips through me. He forces my thighs down never relenting on his movements. His tongue sliding through my folds and over my clit with expertise as if he's always known how to touch me perfectly. My hips buck into his mouth and he grinds his mouth against me. I grip his hair with my hands moaning loudly in ecstacy.

My thighs fall apart and I pant heavily.

"Such a good girl bonnie."

Relationships were not forbidden but frowned upon. Price and Ghost would wring our necks if they knew what we were doing. Fuck em.

Soap gently rolls me over and pulls my hips back. I feel the hardness of his cock bump against my pussy. My walls still fluttering. I stretch forward overstimulated.

"Ah ah bonnie I haven't had my fill o'ya yet." He says his grip tightening. I feel the head of his cock push into me. I gasp and wince at the delicious albeit painful stretch. Soap leans forward until his strong chest is pressed against my back. He breathes on my ear before catching it between his teeth. I arch my back and shudder.

"Breathe bonnie. Let Johnny make ya feel good. Breathe ma good girl"

I moan and I claw at the sheets. He shifts his hips, the head of his cock impossibly deep. I moan as he grinds his pelvis in my ass, his cock rubbing my sweet spot. He gives a few thrusts before he makes me moan out. I toss my head.

"There ya good. Good girl bonnie. Take my cock nice n deep."

I moan loudly as his hips pick up their pace. He slides his hand under my hip and brings me back to meet his thrusts. I cry out in pleasure. He keep thrusting harder and harder. He leans forward his teeth taking purchase of my neck, teeth sinking into the flesh and I arch against him again. He kisses up my neck and I shudder under him.

He grips my hips tightly, the loud sound of out bodies smacking together echoing. Soap loses control and grunts in my ear in time to his thrusting. He finally snaps, putting his large hands on my back, to shove my chest into the mattress and his thrusting becoming animalistic. I scream into the sheets as his hands plant on both sides of my head. His hips hammering into my ass as I spread my legs more for him to slide deeper.

I cry out and moan.

"Thas it bonnie" he grunts "open yerself fer me."

"Johnny! Don't stop!" I beg and plead feeling my pussy gush around his girthy length. He groans in my ear.

"Oh I won't stop lass. Wont....fuckin 'ell yer tight...stop until ye come around my cock"

I moan my squeeze the sheets with my fingers. He laces his hands with mine. Using the leverage to buck into me harder. My vision goes hazy and my pussy squeezes tight and I feel my orgasm coming.

Soap hits a stop and I let out a choked moan. Soap rocks into my a few more times before my back violently arches and I scream out in pleasure. My walls throbbing and squeezing his cock for everything he has.

"Fuckin 'ell bonnie gonna...milk me dry." He groans more to himself. I work my hips back until he jerks forward his hot cum spiraling inside me and filling my womb. We both shudder and catch our breath.

Soap pulls out of me and I whine feeling empty. He leans on my back, his sweaty chest feeling warm. He kisses my neck and gently blows on my ear making me shiver.

"Ya did so good fer me bonnie." He praises. I mumble breathless.

"If I knew how bad ya wanted it, I'da fucked this pretty cunt sooner."

"Thank the alcohol for that."

He chuckles. "Just needed a little liquid courage didn't ya?"

"Uh huh and well now that you have you better keep going."

"Oh? Givin orders now?" He chuckles darkly

"Yes I am and you better deliver MacTavish." I demand. He flips me on my back and works his hips between my legs. I feel his hips grind into my clit and I moan.

"Better be ready to handle me bonnie." He says as he kisses me.

~(Wolf):Jeez I need to calm down haha

Soap: *blushing* that was filthy

(Wolf): It was. Love you Soapy

Soap: Don't call me that and COOL OFF

[wormdebut]

17

Hi there anon! Thank you for your number! #17 on my Spotify Wrapped is 18+ by Scene Queen. This song is actually very fucking personal to me. I won't go into detail but fuck shitty dudes in shitty rock bands doing shitty things. ON THAT NOTE this blurb is truly a bunch of Steve being heart eyes at his rockstar husband but TW for mention of shitty rock dudes in shitty rock bands being shitty. (NOT Eddie or Corroded Coffin whatsoever) Nothing is explicit but take care of yourselves always. ----

"No. I don't care if it's true or not, Steph! The second some shitty fucking allegations come out like that? They're off my fucking tour. No questions asked. If someone says Greg fucked around then I'm sure as hell, not keeping him around long enough for it to happen again."

Steve hadn't planned on waking up to Eddie screaming down the line to his manager, but alas--such is the life of a being a rock god's husband. Steve runs his hand over his eyes and zeroes in on Eddie pacing their hotel room.

"--multiple allegations Stephanie! No way in hell. They're just the opening act. I'll talk to the guys, we will extend our set. I'll talk to Chrissy and she'll extend her act too. Call that asshole's manager and tell them that we are dropping them." Eddie huffs and Steve isn't entirely sure what's going on but Eddie is red with anger.

"Baby." Steve breathes out, just to let Eddie know he's joined the land of the living. Eddie head snaps over to look at Steve, and he smiles--it's a small thing, but it makes Steve's insides feel all warm and fuzzy, cause even when Eddie is so clearly fuming Steve can help him feel at least a little bit better.

Eddie sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, I got so heated Steph, just take care of this, please? I want them off the tour. Yeah okay--alright. Yeah--" Eddie laughs, "Sure, Steph, I'll tell him. Okay. Thank you. Talk soon." Eddie pulls out his airpod and throws it on the table.

"You know you'll lose 'em if you don't put them back in the case like a normal sane person, baby." Steve says, as he sits up in bed.

Eddie walks over to him and burys his face into Steve's neck. "I'm not a normal sane person, princess." Eddie mumbles from his hiding spot and Steve runs a hand through his hair.

"So…" Steve starts, "did you wanna--talk about whatever that was?" Eddie groans into Steve neck before pulling back.

"I fucking hate shitty ass rock dudes being fucking gross as hell and I won't allow gross ass shitty ass nasty ass posers anywhere near our fan base." Eddie spits and Steve just nods. Eddie continues, "Our opener? A bunch of fucked up shit came out about them and I refuse to let bullshit like that anywhere near the space that Corroded Coffin has crafted over ten fucking years."

Steve can't help but smile at that. Eddie prided himself on creating a place where his fans could be themselves, go to a concert and feel safe. He felt ridiculously proud of his husband. He says as much and Eddie scoffs--not at Steve, he knows, but he scoffs all the same.

"I appreciate that babydoll, but it's not about me. It's about keeping people safe." Eddie says and Steve nods. He's still proud of him, regardless.

——

Steve stands backstage watching as Eddie's best friend finishes up her set and feels arms wrap around his waist. He smiles leaning back into Eddie's (very naked--aside from a leather harness) chest and Eddie plants a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

"God, what if I just stay here and hold you all night instead of performing." Eddie whispers into Steve ear and while that does sound tempting--

"I don't think this very sold out venue of metal heads would be too pleased with me." Steve looks up and fuck, his rock star husband is the prettiest. He leans up to press a quick kiss to his lips. He can't get over this morning, how quick Eddie was to drop a shitty band without a second thought to keep people safe.

Steve turns around in Eddie's arms and wraps his arms around him, squeezes.

"I'm proud of you Eds. I'm always fucking proud of you, but thanks for keeping these people's scene as safe as you can."

Eddie looks at him, with stars in his kohl-lined eyes. "I love you baby, you know that right?"

Steve leans up to kiss him again. "Yeah, darling, I know. And I love you."

Eddie kisses him one more time before stepping back, just in time for Chrissy to come running from the stage. She looks from Eddie to Steve and then back to Eddie with a big manic grin. "The crowd is fucking nuts tonight Eds. You gonna say something?"

Eddie smirks at that. "Of course I am. If I'm not screaming lyrics, I'm screaming about something else." They all laugh at that and the stage lights go dark, Eddie leans down again to plant a kiss to Steve's temple, whispering a quick 'love you', before heading out to the stage.

Chrissy grabs a water bottle and leans back against a beam to watch Eddie and the band from side stage with Steve, like they do every night.

After the opening song Eddie surveys the screaming crowd.

"You sound fucking amazing Orlando. But, before we get into this next song I have something I need to fucking say--If you ever see shitty ass rock dudes in shitty ass rock bands asking you to show them your tits for backstage passes, I want you to spit right in their fucking faces and yell FUCK YOU!"

The crowd goes wild as Eddie preaches about safety in the scene and Steve can't help but fucking grin. He's pretty damn proud of his man.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

A year in illustration (2024), Part two

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/07/great-kepplers-ghost/art-adjacent

Part one

Algorithmic feeds are a twiddler's playground

I confess that the kind of music that people make with modular synths leaves me totally, absolutely flat. However, the look of modular synths is perfect for conjuring up the idea of "twiddling" – a key part of my theory of enshittification (doubly so after I painstakingly put a HAL 9000 eye on every dial and knob).

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/11/for-you/#the-algorithm-tm

(Image: Cryteria, CC BY 3.0; djhughman, CC BY 2.0; modified)

CDA 230 bans Facebook from blocking interoperable tools

"Interoperability" is one of those abstractions I really struggle to visually represent, but sticking a giant, scuffed, USB-C port (courtesy of D-Kuru's great CC BY 4.0 macrofocus image) on the Facebook sign worked great.

(Image: D-Kuru, Minette Lontsie, CC BY-SA 4.0, modified)

Cleantech has an enshittification problem

Illustrating "cleantech" being bricked seemed pretty straightforward, but it took a lot of doing to find a good picture of a brick. Eventually, I found a brick and took a picture of it! I think the solar panels on the brick are pretty nicely matted in.

(Image: 臺灣古寫真上色, Grendelkhan CC BY-SA 4.0; modified)

How to design a tech regulation

Cutting out those balance scales took a long-ass time, but I've found a lot of uses for them, illustrating the concept of "making trade-offs." The tradeoff here is between a rigid, planned approach and a more improvisational one, so I used an Air Force guy at rigid attention and a guerrilla fighter on the scales. The "impatient guy" from the maybe-a-radio-ad stands in this time for a government regulator.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/20/scalesplaining/#administratability

(Image: Noah Wulf, CC BY-SA 4.0, modified)

Microsoft pinky swears that THIS TIME they'll make security a priority

Look, I'll stipulate that using "Clippy" as a symbol for Microsoft personified is a bit antiquated, but I like to think that for those who know, they really know. The Uncle Sam is Keppler again. With apologies to Skippy Shulz, natch.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/14/patch-tuesday/

An end to the climate emergency is in our grasp

Virgil Finlay's demon head is sinister, sure, but the unintentional, undeniable sinisterness of the body language of this guy puts him in the shade. He comes from an unsourced image that looks like an ad for a built-in stereo.

https://craphound.com/images/guygestures.jpg

The audience in the front comes from a Victorian daugerrotype of a crowd watching some kind of unknown spectacle. I cropped 'em out by hand and use them as a visual stand-in for "this is a thing that the world is, or should be, watching."

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/12/s-curve/#anything-that-cant-go-on-forever-eventually-stops

Surveillance pricing

I don't make a lot of animations, but this one is super-sweet. The idea of things switching slowly via crossfades is a great way to illustrate how tech lets companies change things when you aren't paying attention. Thanks as ever to ezgif.com for help assembling and optimizing it.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/05/your-price-named/#privacy-first-again

(Image: Cryteria, CC BY 3.0, modified)

"Carbon neutral" Bitcoin operation founded by coal plant operator wasn't actually carbon neutral

Thomas Hawk is an amazing photographer who also posts all kinds of amazing found photos (more than 23,000 of them!) to his Flickr stream, at very high rez:

https://www.flickr.com/search/?sort=date-taken-desc&safe_search=1&tags=foundphotograph&user_id=51035555243%40N01&view_all=1

The guys in the foreground appear in one of these, proudly displaying an award for – I kid you not – "canned bacon." The kids in the background come from a gallery of photos of early 20th C. child laborers.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/09/terawulf/#hunterbrook

The Google antitrust remedy should extinguish surveillance, not democratize it

If Keppler's "Capital Controls the Senate" is one of the most important antitrust images of all time, then his "Next!" (depicting Standard Oil as a rapacious, world-strangling octopus) is the most important antitrust illustration.

The Uncle Sam-as-a-cop figure is another Keppler (natch), and he's a regular in my collages – I can make him stand in for any federal agency by putting its logo on his chest, where a badge would go.

It took me a long time to cut up that Next! image for easy modding. Here's a GIMP XCF file for your pleasure:

https://craphound.com/images/standard-oil-kraken.xcf

And a PSD:

https://craphound.com/images/standard-oil-kraken.psd

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/07/revealed-preferences/#extinguish-v-improve

(Image: Cryteria, CC BY 3.0, modified)

The largest campaign finance violation in US history

The giant figure looking at something in his palm through a looking-glass is yet another Keppler Uncle Sam illo (in the original, Sam is peering at a taxpayer who's shouting back up at him). I love the sad little donkey; I spent a bunch of time this election year finding public domain images of mules and elephants and dressing them in the livery of the mascots of the Democratic and Republican parties to have a bunch of visual signifiers with different emotional valences for each.

Note the halftoned background (a Maricopa County ballot); I'm increasingly fond of halftoning as a way to create a nice looking, scale-independent background.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/31/greater-fools/#coinbased

AI's productivity theater

"Technofeudalism" was a theme in my work even before Yanis Varoufakis's excellent book on the subject. Putting a HAL Eye on the reeve in this medieval tapestry depicting him lording it over his groveling serfs really caught the subject, especially after I faded in some Matrix code waterfall for the background.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/25/accountability-sinks/#work-harder-not-smarter

(Image: Cryteria, CC BY 3.0, modified)

Return to office and dying on the job

This medieval torture chamber was really brightened up by the LATE AGAIN! workplace poster on the wall and the impatient guy posed before the Manhattan skyline through the window bars. Cutting out all the window-panes took forever.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/27/sharpen-your-blades-boys/#disciplinary-technology

Thinking the unthinkable

Bosch's anus-demon (from the Garden of Earthly Delights) returns, this time to illustrate the problems of radium suppositories as a metaphor for commercial surveillance (yes, a visual metaphor for a textual metaphor – whew, it's getting abstract around here). It took some fiddling to get the right green radioactive glow in the anal cavity, and to match it for each of the suppositories in the Museum of the Health Sciences' picture of a box of the

The damask-esque background comes from a gallery of antique marbled endpapers that I often use when I need a texture, tweaking the curves and colors until they look cool.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/19/just-stop-putting-that-up-your-ass/#harm-reduction

There's no such thing as "shareholder supremacy"

Boy I love this one. The background is a late 1800s photo of the Temple of Pluto. The golden calf on the idol comes from an early 20th century illustrated bible. Add Milton Friedman's head, the lettering from the original U Chicago School of Business, and a tiny golden top-hat for the calf, and voila! Idol-worship! Alistair Milne's tip for making gold textures work went down a treat here.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/18/falsifiability/#figleaves-not-rubrics

America's best-paid CEOs have the worst-paid employees

The heads of the millionaires are more Keppler Punch illos, while the bodies and sofas come from another Thomas Hawk found industrial photo. You'll remember the child coal miners from ""Carbon neutral" Bitcoin operation founded by coal plant operator wasn't actually carbon neutral." I have a vivid memory of carefully cutting out the guillotine and its Jacobins during a boring conference presentation.

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/09/low-wage-100/#executive-excess

Conspiratorialism as a material phenomenon

The superstitious belief that Big Tech has built a mind-control ray is a common theme in my work, and I've got a few prized, carefully sliced up "mind control ray" themed images from old pulps in my stock art folder. This one is augmented with Cryteria's HAL 9000 eye, and a Keppler cavorting vaudevallian with Zuck's metaverse head. The midcentury family comes from a midcentury ad for Mason Masterpieces's bronzed baby-shoes.

(Image: Cryteria, CC BY 3.0, modified)

Part three

Part four

[levemetal]

I have a million and one svsss AU ideas that idk if I'll ever write cause I have 0 confidence in my untested writing skills. Any of these appeal to you?? Go ahead, use 'em. Know any fanfics like that? Please please PLEASE leave them in the comments. Ideas to add? Anything? Please go ahead I have no friends that are as deep in the svsss brainrot as me to subject this to ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚

Continued under the cut due to excessive rambling

These will be Ghost King/Calamity!SJ cause he has been living rentfree in my brain ever since one braincell at one AM shouted about it so you have been warned.

- Dual Ghost Kings YQY and SJ, Post canon of PIDW. That's it that's the idea. Their extras hurt my cold dead heart way too much and as much as bbygirl SJ is a piece of shit, Yue Qingyuan deserves happiness, and for that he needs his Xiao-Jiu. Basically YQY does not stay dead when Bingge turns him into a pincushion à la White No Face to Xie Lian except with arrows. What happens from here? Idk didn't get that far but I imagine he steals back his (probably dead) Xiao-Jiu, maybe does some other batshit insane shit like we all know that deep down he's capable of, and the duo fucking COMMUNICATES for once in their life and they live happily ever after. Bonus points for hilarious deaths for Bingge.

- If you're a filthy multishipper like me, want a BingJiu version of the above QiJiu? Easy, SJ decides to haunt Bingge's ass for eternity and vice versa when Bingge kicks the bucket and so they spent the rest of eternity trying to make each other miserable in increasingly ridiculous and creative ways. Maybe along the centuries they find a common enemy or sort their shit out and proceed to make their awful existence everyone else's problem. A match made in hell, truly <3

Are you seeing a theme yet. I like a general comedic air to svsss AUs, it just belongs to the svsss experience ya know? Anyway carrying on-

Shen twins, and SQH twins cause why not. If you want Binghe twins too, actually probably funnier with Binghe twins, where one is our beloved maiden Bingmei and the other OG!PIDW Bingge but forced back in time with memories of the PIDW timeline. Transmigrator SQH aka Airplane gets the peak lord + Mobei-Jun plotline while OG!SQH is just chilling as an An Ding Peak Hallmaster or something. Meanwhile, the Shen twins have a funny game of imposter going on. As far as everyone is concerned, there is only one Shen Qingqiu, Shen Yuan. Shen Yuan transmigrated in earlier into the novel, but ended up going to CQM with Yue Qi while SJ got stuck in the Qiu household as in canon. From here the details can change but the main idea is that

A) Shen Yuan knows how to do his peak lord job actually

B) SJ is a calamity ghost, having died either in his disciple years or alternatively never made it out of the Qiu household alive

C) Both SY and SJ have been playing switcheroo when SY needs to head out and do stuff or just wants SJ to do his paperwork for him.

I still need a good reason for the switching and duping, but wouldn't it be funny if the disciples just had to deal with their peak lord behaving WILDLY different at times. Most of the time it's good ol' Shen Yuan smiling at disciples, way too enthusiastic for monsters and plants and keeps forgetting his fans everywhere. Then one random week in the month after he has a resting bitch face, scowls, snarls and bitches at anyone and has 0 patience for teenage attempts at music.

Most shrug it off as just terrible migraine weeks, but some disciples are suspicious, most of all Bingge who is CONVINCED something is WrongTM. Like, he KNOWS SQQ and this SQQ is just so different, something must be different. He doesn't know how right he is yet everyone just thinks he's actually insane.

I know this is probably increasingly insane and dumb, but fast forward to the Abyss opening. SJ was probably there to keep an eye on his clumsy twin, but SY ends up asking the ghost to look over the Luos, as the system still demands that they go to the abyss. So SJ after much grumbling agrees (after all he probably just was unmasked as ghost calamity, and the twins as demons, with a huge amount of cultivators moving their way. It's really the smaller hassle to jump into the Abyss and deal with the horrors there. Besides, the scholar in SJ would be curious about the abyss (and SY too let's be honest) ), kicks both in and goes "Alright we're taking an impromptu field trip" and jumps in after leaving SY to deal with the political mess that comes after.

Anyway, the last AU can be changed in various ways, like make it a PIDW time travel fix it with only the OGs around, or just Shen twins, etc. Feel free to shout at me how dumb this all is.

[rickmymanrick]

one rule | chapter six

[rick grimes x original female character slowburn]

series masterlist

summary: rick confides in daphne, for reasons unknown to her. as she offers him counsel, daphne is also grappling with conflicting feelings of her own.

notes: if you're disappointed by this reaction, this is a friendly reminder that season 1 rick was mr moral high ground. but trust me when i say there WILL be a catalyst for rick's entire wrath and fury. this is just one step closer to that. do not fear, rick will be kicking shane's ass very soon :) also, the pacing is so bad in this, i might rewrite this whole chapter soon. but feel free to comment, i love talking to you all!

I froze. In fact, I think all three of us did and I realized with a jolt how out of my depth I was here. This had nothing to do with me and of course, here I was, in the smack dab middle of it.

Daryl scoffed one more time and then trudged into the woods, mumbling all sorts of things. I stared after him until he disappeared within the trees. His words dawned on me and my eyes slowly traveled over to Shane.

Sure, Rick's sudden appearance had served as a nice distraction from the big glaring problem I had waiting here for me if I got back alive, but reality had to be faced eventually. My inner conflict since last night had been tearing me from the inside-out, as I tried to figure out my feelings for Shane Walsh. After all, he has been generously kind to me in all the years I've known him, albeit flirty but in a respectful way. He didn't cross any lines I'd deemed uncrossable and I wouldn't deny that his concern and priority over my well-being filled me with sensation far beyond gratitude.

The kiss caught me off guard. But now this bucket of ice cold water had been dumped over my head. Just as I began to entertain the idea of harboring romantic feelings for him.

His words from last night echoed in the back of my mind.

"For what it's worth, it's always been you."

Something inexplicable gripped at my throat. But I stayed as silent as possible. Watching these two was like a ticking bomb, any second away from detonating.

Shane stared at Rick with a troubled expression, his foot twisting into the dirt uncomfortably.

I knew in an instant Daryl Dixon did not lie.

Did he know this was my usual spot to gather berries and other edible plants? With his tracking abilities, I wouldn't doubt it, despite not talking to the man much but...

Of all the miles that surrounded our camp, why stretch out the smug admission of a hidden truth, a treacherous affair, until this very spot, just steps away from where I was crouched in the bush, picking for blueberries?

I reprimanded myself at the thought. Why would Daryl Dixon care about my knowing of Shane's personal escapades?

"She..." Shane started quite hesitantly. "Lori... she thought you were dead, man."

"Did you?"

Shane scoffed as if the accusation baffled him. "You heard 'em. I... I tried, Rick. I saw you every chance I got. The day it all went down— I didn't have a damn clue what was going on. Screams from left to right, the military raining fire on anyone who was still breathing. Hell, I tried to get you out of there, man! But it couldn't be the two of us dead because you still had a wife and a child out there! And if I couldn't save you, I could damn well save them!" He was unexpectedly set off, angrier than he should've been. "And let me tell you somethin', I did it for you. I did it for my brother. L-Lori, we were comforting each other in the only way we knew how—"

"I thought you were gone."

His partner's face was crestfallen. His lips parted like the shock was threatening to sink him under, his eyes glazed over from the betrayal.

"After I woke up in that hospital bed, when I saw what the world had become. The first thing I thought about was Carl and Lori. And then you. Our unit. For a moment, I thought you were all dead—"

Rick choked up and Shane's face morphed into something reminiscent of guilt. I couldn't quite tell though. I'd like to think that after years, I knew this man. But now he was completely unreadable.

Running a hand over his face, down his glistening eyes, Rick squared his stance and stared his longest friend in the eye.

"Our marriage... fell apart a long time ago," he shook his head and clenched his jaw. "But that doesn't make this okay."

There was a long moment of tense silence and I didn't realize I was holding my breath until my chest began to burn. I tried to control the air releasing from my lungs.

"I appreciate what you did. Saving 'em. I owe you everythin' but—" Rick cut himself off, glaring at the grass between them. He seemed to be saying these words through his teeth, forcing himself to say them. His hand began to flex angrily and his feet kicked the dirt beneath them in warning.

I stared at them with a mix of emotions.

One was a man that had changed my life forever, taught me how to survive in a post-apocalyptic world where I should've died. He cared for me, never shied away from making it clear that I was his priority. And maybe I was too blinded by the attention to see that there was something going on between him and Lori. That she was also carelessly pushed to the side in the weeks we'd been forming a new life together. And to know that she'd been having sex with him all along, I could only hope that she didn't have actual feelings for him, because it would explain the strange looks I had been catching from her, and my guilt would only increase tenfold.

And on the other hand was her husband, a man I have been pining over since the moment I laid eyes on him in the precinct.

Rick Grimes had an instant hold over me, no matter how minuscule or undetectable it had gotten over the years, and no matter what, he had always truly been the most gorgeous man I've known inside and out.

What does that say about me? Lusting after my friend's husband and then fucking around with the feelings of her goddamn side piece.

I suddenly became nauseous.

"I get it, man. I'll go back to the camp," said Shane after a long stretch of silence. I kept my eyes on Rick, unable to look at Shane with the turmoil brewing inside me. A simmering anger was twisting my insides at the mere sound of his voice.

"Uh— yeah, yeah," Rick mumbled distractedly, not bothering to even look up, fists clenching and unclenching by his sides.

A pair of footsteps stomped away, crunching along the grass until the only thing that could be heard was the chirps of the nearby insects.

As soon as Shane disappeared within the trees, Rick spun around to send his fist flying into a tree, a muffled yell leaving his pressed lips. He was beyond angry, tears lining his lash line, face turning red. I stared with wide eyes, trying not to make a single sound.

I felt incredibly bad for him. I couldn't imagine fighting tooth and nail to make it back to your wife just to find that she had moved on to your best friend so quickly. That although their marriage had already been suffering, she had chosen to sleep with the man he trusted more than anyone else.

Something wet touched my hand. I uncurled my fist to find a handful of crushed blueberries.

"How long you been there?"

I jolted up in surprise, my curls tangled into the bush and the pouch of berries slipped out of my other hand.

"I was here first," I replied defensively, still hidden in the bush.

Rick didn't say anything, just peered past the leaves as if he couldn't quite spot me. But somehow he knew I was there, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"You were," he eventually said, slowly. "I saw you just before Daryl left."

Relief flooded through me. I slowly untangled myself from the branches, stepping out into the path with tinged cheeks. "I was picking berries. Found the patch a few weeks ago."

His cheeks were flushed, his hands shaking very slightly by his side.

"I can leave you alone," I said after some silence. "I'll go back to camp—"

"No." Rick said firmly, meeting my eye very briefly before glaring back down at the ground.

I halted my escape. "Oh, um, okay."

The awkwardness was threatening to eat me alive. I shifted on my feet, wondering where to look and what to do with my hands.

"Do you..." I eagerly looked up at Rick, glad one of us was talking. "Did you know?"

I studied him. Really, there should be no reason for him to be upset with me too, but I braced myself for his wrath anyway. He'd spared Shane because they were partners, but we were nothing. As much as it bothered me, Rick and I didn't owe each other an ounce of respect in this new world.

"No," I told him honestly. A surge of anger towards Shane rushed through me again. My cheeks felt hot.

"I keep wondering... if I have the right to even be upset. I wasn't a good husband to her, I know this, and you're the last person I should be telling this to but—"

The last person? Should I be offended or something? I decide now wasn't the best time to press for details. "It's fine. I know this can't be easy for you. To wake up to... this."

Rick scoffed a little, but not in a rude way. It was as if I'd said something outlandish and absurd.

"I woke up and the hardest part was done. Seeing the world change— changing with it— becoming the leader of a group you have no responsibilities or ties to. You, you did the hard part."

"Oh— did Shane—?"

"Shane didn't hafta tell me nothin'. Lori and I talked last night. She told me everything that happened since the day I got shot," explained Rick solemnly.

I cringed at the thought of them spending time alone last night. Not that it was crazy to imagine; they were still married.

"I guess I have a lot to be thanking you for," Rick looked up at me with an intense sincerity in his gaze. I tried not to squirm under the pressure of it. He continued. "You saved my family. That is something I will never be able to repay."

He stepped forward and laid a large hand on my shoulder. I could feel some heat rush to my ears. "You have my gratitude."

"Carl's a great kid. And Lori's my friend. I would do it a million times over," I told him truthfully.

He stared at me for a few moments, his hand still holding my shoulder as his eyes scanned every bit of my face. Sighing, he stepped away and brought himself to the ground carefully, sitting with his knees bent and leaning an elbow against them thoughtfully.

It was silent again, but it didn't feel as awkward as before so I sat next to him and began to wash the berries off with the bottle of water I'd brought with me from camp.

"What... what do I do?"

My head shot over to stare at him. "You're asking me."

I didn't state it as a question, more as a statement of shock, thinking about how ironic it was that the fate of a marriage I had once upon a time envied was now partly in my hands. The guilt was still there, painfully tugging at my heartstrings.

Rick shrugged and made a show of looking around at the empty trees around us.

"I can't really tell you what to do, Rick."

"What I really wanna do is break his jaw in. Watch him choke on his teeth."

I'm surprised at the restraint it took for him to not send his fist flying in the first place. I was fully prepared to watch Shane's ass get beat.

"He deserves it," I instigated slightly. I couldn't possibly be as angry as he was but I understood. Shane does deserve a good punch.

He sighed and shook his head at the ground.

"I don't know how to go on. How to look him in the face—" he scowled. "We were brothers. He was my best friend. He knew." Rick snapped.

"He knew...?"

"He was the one person I confided in. I told him about Lori and I. I told him when things started going south. I never thought in a million years I'd have to worry." He spat, shaking his head angrily.

I felt some of that bitterness surge in me as well. I felt completely and utterly deceived by the same goddamn person.

"We never do," I projected a bit. I couldn't help it, the anger was swelling in me as well. Just the thought of Shane's stupid face made me want to punch something. "They fill our heads with all these stupid promises and reassurances just to stab you right in the back anyway."

Am I being overdramatic? Most likely. Hell, I probably deserved this. I led Shane on for so long, I couldn't be mad that he moved on to someone else. I just couldn't understand why he'd said the things he did last night. The kiss.

I've never been more goddamn confused in my life.

It was quiet for a few minutes, my last comment brewing in the silence but I didn't think Rick would pay much mind to it. He had bigger problems of his own.

"Carl— he's so young..." he said idly as if it had just occurred to him.

Too young for a divorce was what he meant.

I couldn't disagree with that. There's no age that seeing your parents separate becomes easier to deal with. But he's not the same nine-year-old Rick had known before he got shot.

"Rick, the world isn't the same anymore. It doesn't excuse Lori's actions or Shane's, but all of that doesn't matter so much when you're trying to keep yourself from getting eaten by dead cannibals. I can't tell you what to do but in the grand scheme of things, I think Carl will learn to understand."

I didn't know whether this brought him any comfort because he seemed to have nothing else to say on the matter. Maybe I was too straightforward, after all Carl was his kid at the end of the day. Despite how much I'd grown to care for him...

"I've been thinking about the man we left behind."

I looked over at him in shock. It was the last thing I'd been expecting him to bring up. But as soon as I looked at his blue eyes, I could almost see the plans he was concocting.

He wanted to go after him.

"You can't be serious," I scoffed. I'd been pushing aside my own thoughts about Merle Dixon. Just one more thing to add to my consciousness. As much of a dickhead as he was, we'd left a human being for dead.

"It isn't right. Leaving him up there to die," insisted Rick.

"He would do the same to any of us," I argued. "You just escaped the city. Survived alone against all odds. You're willing risk that for a douchebag like Merle?"

I observed the incredulous look on his face with disdain. It's different for him. He was just introduced to this new fucked up reality. He still has hope that we can be the heroes of this story-- that we can afford to care about anyone but ourselves.

"This-- what we have here-- this is what we focus on. It's unfortunate but Merle dug his own grave. It isn't worth risking your life, Rick."

I hated the way he was looking at me but I steeled myself. He'd learn soon enough. Men like Merle weren't worth compromising your safety for. It was every man for himself in the old world, and even more so in the new one.

I shoved every silly feeling I've had for Rick to the side and gave him a stern look back. I willed myself not to care about the disgust on his face because soon enough, he'd understand.

He'd understand what we've done to keep his wife and son alive.

Rick opened his mouth and I braced myself, ready to hear something along the lines of me being a murderer and a split second thought ran through my head.

Shane would agree with me.

A blood curdling scream cut through the dense silence.

"MOM! DAD!"

I was up before I could even process it, tearing through the woods with Rick at my heels.

"CARL!" Rick and I yelled in unison. I gripped the pistol Shane had given me tight, not caring if my face was torn up by the stray branches I ran against, heart pounding in my chest as I willed my legs to move faster than they ever have.

"Here!" I tossed a knife back to Rick as I pushed ahead of him, beating him in speed by a milestone.

"MAMA! MOMMY!" A high-pitched voice screamed.

Finally, I stumbled upon where Sophia and Carl were huddled. Making a beeline towards the kids, despite the walker that stood yards away.

I grabbed them by the shoulders, looking them up and down frantically. Trying to find a bite, a scratch, anything.

A body came slamming into mine and I suddenly heard their screams, the rest of the group had been searching as well.

Lori grabbed her son frantically, snatching him from my grasp and patting his arms down in a panic. "Carl! Nothing bit you, nothing scratched you?"

"No, I'm fine," Carl shook his head.

Jacqui came running out of nowhere.

"Soph?" The small blonde girl shook her head frantically before sprinting in the direction of camp, no doubt searching for her mother.

"She wasn't bit. We're both okay." Carl reassured.

I gripped my pistol and set my sights on the walker. It was feasting on a deer, crouched over and ripping its neck to shreds. I grimaced, inching forward with Rick and Glenn at my side.

Shane made brief eye contact with me before the walker suddenly straightened up and whipped around.

Rick wasted no time, slashing its face with the knife I'd handed him. Shane used the end of his rifle and Glenn started beating the damn thing with a stick. Even Morales had a turn before Dale swung his axe and chopped its head off clean.

It was silent as we all stared at the mess of guts and blood in shock.

"That's the first one we've had up here. They never come this far up the mountain," said Dale shakily.

"Well, they're running out of food in the city. That's what," replied Jim, another survivor who was normally a man of few words.

A branch snapped and we all raised our weapons, my safety turning off once more.

I curled my finger around the trigger as the steps got closer.

"Oh, Jesus," Dale sighed in relief as Daryl came stomping out from between the bushes. I lowered my gun and shook my head.

"Son of a bitch! That's my deer! Look at it. All gnawed on by this filthy—" Daryl kicked the headless walker angrily.

"—disease-bearing—"

Kick.

"—motherless—"

Another kick.

"—poxy bastard!"

"Calm down, son. That's not helping."

"What do you know about it, old man?" Daryl sneered at Dale, getting in his face. "Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to 'on golden pond?' If it wasn't for you idiots running it off earlier, I would've taken it back to camp. Maybe I can cut around this chewed up part. Take some for the road."

"Wouldn't risk that," Shane sighed.

"That's a damn shame," Daryl said, giving Shane a nasty glare before raising his bow and shooting an arrow into the walker's reanimated head.

Huffing, he shoulder-checked Glenn as he passed by, ripping the arrow out with a squelch.

I couldn't blame him for being angry. As much of an asshole as Merle was, he was still Daryl's family.

Glenn rubbed his shoulder and rolled his eyes.

"Daryl!" Rick rushed after him, disappearing into the trees with my knife. I was briefly confused until I remembered where our last conversation left off.

"God help us all," I smacked a hand on my forehead and began to make my way back to camp. Slowly so I wouldn't catch up to Daryl and Rick.

"Hold up, Daph," Glenn caught up to me with a huff. "Were you ever going to tell me about Rick being the Rick?"

"What?"

Glenn glanced behind us. Likely looking for Shane.

"Rick Grimes? Like super hot hip-swaying coworker Grimes? I'm fucking offended, Daph."

"Do you want everyone to hear you?" I whispered harshly, scanning the woods to make sure Rick or Shane weren't lurking about.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

"Sorry, it wasn't really at the forefront of my mind yesterday. I was more thinking about all the dead people trying to eat us."

"What are the freaking odds?" Glenn marveled. "Out of all people, he runs into us. You know, anybody else would've left him for dead."

"Yes, you're a goddamn hero, Glenn."

"Damn right I am. Saved your man from certain death."

My eyes widened comically and I whacked him in the side. "He's not my man. Don't say shit like that around Shane or Lori."

"Of course not. I'm not crazy. You see 'em around here?"

"I dunno. Shane has eyes and ears everywhere."

"True," Glenn nodded, staring at his feet as we walked. Suddenly, he stopped.

"What's up with you two? You've been weird since yesterday morning."

Fuck. I knew it wouldn't slip past him. Glenn knew me too well for this to just slide and the only reason I'd been keeping it from him was because of how selfish and ashamed I felt.

"Don't judge me, okay?"

His eyebrows pinched together in confusion. "Okay?"

I seized his sleeve and took us a little ways off the trail, closer to the blueberry patch. Speaking of which, I left all of the ones I'd collected in the dust. Goddamnit.

"Um— two nights ago, Shane and I... well, we kissed."

His jaw dropped slightly.

"He kissed me." I defended quickly, before Glenn could give me a judgmental look.

"Did you want it?" He asked carefully.

"Yes— well, no— I don't know."

Glenn narrowed his gaze, sending a glance in the direction of camp. His cheeks tinted red and he shifted uncomfortably.

"He didn't force himself onto me, if that's what you think." I said quickly, recognizing the signs of Glenn's impending anger.

His chest fell in relief.

"I just... I screwed up, Glenn. I led him on. I let him kiss me and I kissed him back. I didn't even know if I wanted it. And then Rick of all people shows up! The one person I was holding out hope for. I'm not a homewrecker but I am delusional."

Glenn stayed silent so I continued with a sigh.

"I should've given Shane a chance before the world went to shit. But I didn't and now everything is so much more complicated... he, um, he told me there's no one else."

"Damn."

I closed my eyes frustratingly. "I know."

"That's clearly a lie."

I gave him a side-eyed glare. "I know."

Glenn pursed his lips awkwardly and looked away.

"How long have you known?" I asked with a sigh. Wouldn't be surprised if I was the last one to find out.

"Not long. I stumbled upon them in the woods the other day. I can't get the image out of my head, I think I'm scarred for life." He grimaced. "I would've told you if I knew he was trying to make a move."

"It's fine," I began to walk back over to the path again. "You couldn't have known. It happened late at night and I was wallowing in self-pity yesterday."

I stomped on the fallen leaves, trying to release some of the pent-up frustration before getting back.

"It's just... I told him it'd take time but I was willing to give us a try. All this time I've felt guilty for even missing that part of my life when Lori was still grieving her husband. Just to find out her and Shane are having sex this whole time."

Glenn readjusted his cap. "Gotta wonder if this started now or before."

That's a good point.

I wasn't a good husband to her, Rick had said to me earlier.

I don't know anything about their lives from before. I only knew Rick at a professional level. And whatever Shane would tell me when he was trying to chat me up every other day at work.

I can't really judge Rick or Lori. She thought he was dead and Rick... well, I don't know what he meant by not being a good husband.

This was truly a mess I had no part in.

"I'm taking myself out of this equation. I have enough on my plate for me to worry about this love triangle."

"More like a rectangle."

I gave him a confused look.

"You like Rick. Rick likes Lori. Lori like Shane. Shane likes you and Lori?"

God, I love and hate his out-of-pocket comments sometimes. But Glenn keeps it real. I gotta respect that.

Rick likes Lori.

Well technically, Rick should love Lori and he probably does. She's the mother of his child and I can't pretend to know everything about their relationship, but if what Rick said earlier was true, there wasn't much of a relationship anymore.

"I could really use some vodka," I groaned, feeling a headache forming between my eyes.

"Same," Glenn said sadly as we approached camp.

Everyone had resumed to their usual activities. Lori and Carl were nowhere to be found but I assumed they were in their tent or the RV. Carol was folding clothes with little Sophia at her feet.

I did a double-take when I saw Rick and Shane speaking to the side. I could faintly hear their conversation.

"So that's it, huh? To hell with everybody else? What about Lori?"

"Don't talk to me about her. I'm not saying to hell with anybody. Especially not to my son." Rick said firmly, buttoning up his sheriff's uniform. He started walking past his former partner.

"Tell them that."

Rick whipped around, an unreadable expression on his face as he stared back at his friend.

"They know. You'd best leave me alone. It's in your best interest. This ain't got nothing to do with you."

I started walking over, feeling a fight begin to stir up. Shane didn't look like he was deterred by Rick's unapproachable attitude and there's no way Rick wasn't still upset about his best friend's actions.

"Well, look, I--I don't, okay, Rick? So could you just throw me a bone here, man? Could you just tell me why? Why would you risk your life for a douchebag like Merle Dixon?"

"Hey, choose your words more carefully," threatened Daryl, who was standing nearby.

"No, I did. Douchebag's what I meant."

"You have something in common then," said Rick jarringly. I was taken aback, not expecting that type of insult to fly out of Officer Grimes' mouth. He was always the passive one.

Glenn chortled next to me.

Shane took it unflinchingly. "Merle Dixon-- that guy wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst, man."

"What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me. I can't let a man die of thirst. Me. Thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being. I don't recall asking for your opinion either."

"So you and Daryl? That's your big plan?" Lori asked, more at ease than I would've expected given the tense circumstances.

I observed her easy posture, other than the frustration she was likely feeling over the fact that her husband was trying to go on a damn suicide mission. I watched as her eyes subtly traveled from Rick to Shane. Then I realized Shane must not have told her a damn thing.

Rick looked at her with hardened eyes. And then switched his gaze over to—

Glenn groaned. "Oh, come on."

There's no way in hell.

"You wanna drag someone else on this suicide mission?" I interjected exasperatedly. I gave Rick my nastiest glare, unable to believe his audacity.

"You're really okay with letting a man die?"

"It's like I said before. He'd do the same to any of us," I lowered my voice and stepped closer to Rick, eyeing Daryl's angry pacing over his shoulder. "He was going to get himself killed eventually. And he would've dragged us all down with him."

I'm not evil. I'm not. I just don't want to see Rick die.

Rick stared at me for a moment before setting his attention onto Glenn.

"You know the way," I scoffed as he ignored me completely. "You've been there before. In and out, no problem. You said so yourself."

Glenn took his cap off and started rubbing his head-- a nervous tick of his.

I've never felt so angry with anyone. Knowing he was asking this of Glenn. Asking him to risk his life once more when he already had just to save Rick's skin.

"It's not fair of me to ask. I know that." Rick glanced over to me apologetically. I guess he isn't deaf. "But I'd feel a lot better if you came along."

"That's just great." Shane scowled, stepping closer to me. "Now you're gonna risk three men, huh?"

"Four," said T-Dog from the edge of camp.

Daryl scoffed. "My day just gets better and better, don't it?"

"Be grateful anyone's willing to save that dick," I bristled.

"Yeah, you see anybody else stepping up to save your brother's cracker ass?"

"Why you?" Daryl asked T-Dog.

"You wouldn't even begin to understand. You don't speak my language."

"That's four," said Dale exasperatedly.

"That's not just four. You're putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Rick. Come on. You saw that walker. It was here, it was in camp."

Despite it all, Shane and I usually saw eye to eye on most things. We weren't afraid to make hard decisions to keep the camp safe. The first week or so when it was just the five of us, Shane and I would stay up late into the early hours of the morning. Talking about our limits— what we were willing to do to make sure our loved ones stayed alive. Even if prioritizing our safety meant leaving others behind.

It's why I still can't believe Ed Peletier is still a good-for-nothing member of our camp. After his and Shane's scuffle, I was certain Shane and I would find a way to get rid of him. Whereas douchebag volatile Merle contributed brawn and hunting game, Ed contributed nothing.

"They're moving out the city. They come here, they get to camp-- we need every able body we got. We need 'em here. We need 'em to protect camp." Shane emphasized.

"You went through hell to find us," added Lori. "You just got here and you're gonna turn around and leave?"

"Dad, I don't want you to go." Carl pleaded.

"Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He's not worth even one of your lives! Tell me. Make me understand." Lori said angrily, standing up.

Rick sighed and crouched in front of Carl, making a point to speak mostly to him. "I owe a debt to a man I met and his little boy. If they hadn't taken me in, I'd have died. It's because of them that I made it back to you at all. They said they'd follow me to Atlanta. They'll walk into the same trap I did if I don't warn him."

"What's stopping you?" Lori asked from the side.

"The walkie-talkie. I dropped it in the tank I hid in," Rick looked back at Glenn and I. "He's got the other one. Our plan was to connect when they got closer."

"I feel for them. I really do but I can't listen to this shit any longer," I hissed quietly at Glenn before stomping away towards our tent.

Footsteps crunched behind me and I knew he was following me. I slipped off my shoes and threw myself onto my sleeping bag, irritated beyond belief. The second Rick mentioned the walkie he'd left behind, it reminded me of what I had left behind too— the medicine. A shit ton of it. Stuff that we'd need eventually and the vitamins the kids were so desperately lacking.

Goddamnit. Carl was one of my weakest spots. I'd grown to care for him immensely, more than I expected. His now-hallowed cheeks stabbed at my heart.

I watched as Glenn gathered his gun I'd given him from the bag I retrieved for Rick yesterday and the CB.

"You're going."

"He'll die if I don't. He's gonna go with or without me," Glenn sighed.

I stood up and pocketed my pistol. "Then I'm going too."

"What? Weren't you against this whole plan? Number one Merle hater?"

I shoved my shoes back onto my feet. "That's before you decided you were going to put your life on the line too. And I still hate that fucker. I'm not doing it for him. I'm doing it for you."

"You don't have to," Glenn grabbed my arm, halting my exit. "You should stay here."

I shot him an incredulous look. "While you go out there and risk your life?" I lowered my voice so that no one else could eavesdrop. "None of these people mean as much to me as you do. I know this is what you do but if there's any way I can help, I need to be there. Besides, I'm going back for the medicine. We're running low."

With that, I freed my arm and left our tent, beelining for the truck where Daryl was loading his bow and arrows into. I got into the passenger's seat, ignoring Shane as he threw yet another fit at the sight of me. Slamming the door shut, I groaned and closed my eyes, throwing my head back as I wondered why we were all willingly putting ourselves in danger once more.

"Yer comin' too?"

I opened an eye and peeked at Daryl through the side mirror. He was crouched behind my seat, busy with his arrows.

"Clearly."

His lip curled and he shook his head.

I couldn't give less of a fuck if he was mad. He could get over it.

The driver's seat opened and Glenn got in, readjusting his cap and giving me a glance. "Thanks," he whispered.

My anger dissipated a little and I gave him a tiny smile, knowing both of us felt a lot better going into the lion's den together. That smile quickly fell when a foot appeared between us, slamming into the wheel twice.

"Come on!" Daryl hollered, honking the horn obnoxiously.

"Don't do that. There might be other walkers close by, you idiot," I seethed.

He ignored me. "Let's go!"

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[villainscomplex]

Blooms In Winter

finally got permission to post our pieces for @zosanauzine so here's mine Also on: AO3 ------------------ Sanji is pissed. No, scratch that. Sanji is outright livid.

It’s like this: today is his first day off in a while, so he’d taken his time enjoying it. He’d treated himself to a nice dinner and had just settled in with a glass of wine, which he hadn’t even taken a sip of before his phone began buzzing. The number that pops up on his screen isn’t one he’s particularly happy to see when he’s trying to have a peaceful night, but Zoro seldom calls him, so Sanji sighs, sets his cup down, and picks up the phone.

“I’m busy, you overgrown hedge,” he says in lieu of a greeting.

There’s a beat of silence on the other end. Sanji pulls the phone away to make sure he hadn’t hung up.

“Uh,” a voice comes, unfamiliar and hesitant, “sorry. This isn’t- your friend is here, but he’s wasted and you’re his emergency contact, so…”

Sanji imagines his evening swirling down the drain. He sighs, dragging himself up from the couch and yanking his sweater back on. The stranger on the other end of the line tells him the bar’s name as Sanji haphazardly shoves his shoes on and snatches up his wallet and keys. He recognizes the name as one of Zoro’s more recent holes in the wall, but he’s only been once.

Stupid plant, Sanji thinks, marching down his icy stairs. It’s just like Zoro to get into trouble in this sort of weather. Sanji is pretty sure plants are supposed to wilt in winter, but here’s his personal one causing problems again. It’s cold as hell, Sanji is pissed, and he doesn’t remember agreeing to be Zoro’s emergency contact, but here he is. If he wasn’t weak to his own pesky feelings, he probably would have asked someone else to pick up their resident houseplant, or at the very least, told him to walk home himself.

The cold air would be sobering, but knowing Zoro, he’s not even dressed for the weather.

Throwing his car door open, Sanji gets in and slams it behind him. He cranks the heater, doesn’t give the engine a chance to warm up, and stews in his anger the entire drive to the bar. It’s out in the middle of nowhere — because of course it is — but the parking lot is nearly empty by the time he arrives. Zoro’s beat-up truck is parked in the corner of the lot, but it’s still visibly off, so Sanji’s eyes scan the building as he pulls up.

Zoro is sitting outside. Not only is Zoro sitting outside, but Zoro is sitting outside, red in the face, with no jacket, a short-sleeve shirt, a busted lip, and a dark bruise cresting the curve of his cheekbone. He’s sulking, hunched up by the entryway like an irritated child being punished.

Sanji throws his car into park despite being anything but in the lines of the parking spot. Exiting the car, he stalks over to Zoro, who looks even less pleased to see him than he had at being stranded in the snow.

“I told ‘em not to call you,” Zoro mumbles, visibly unsteady. “That witch set you as my ‘mergency number.”

Sanji has only seen Zoro wasted one other time, and it hadn’t been a fun one. He doesn’t know what had driven the man to it this time, but frankly, it’s the last thing on his mind right now. As it is, he just wants to get out of the cold, with or without his charge. He’ll ask Nami about the contact situation later, but right now, he doesn’t even care.

“You are the stupidest, biggest pain in my ass. Get in the car.” Sanji jabs a finger at the vehicle. “Did you get into a fight and get kicked out? Are you stupid?”

“He started it,” Zoro huffs.

“Get in the car,” Sanji repeats irritably.

“No,” Zoro glowers, “I can drive myself home. My keys are just inside.”

“Marimo,” Sanji bites out. “Get in the damn car or I’m going to leave you to freeze.”

To prove his point, Sanji whirls around and starts back to the driver's side. Behind him, he hears Zoro take two steps and then promptly stagger. The blond sighs, going back to help his stumbling companion to the car. Once again, he’s quietly surprised to see Zoro so genuinely wasted. His tolerance is notoriously high, so he has to actively make an effort to get this drunk. Still, he grumbles as he helps Zoro into the passenger seat, just to make his irritation known.

The car is dead silent right up until they exit the parking lot, leaving Zoro’s truck behind in the darkness.

“I can’t believe this,” Sanji snaps, irritation bubbling up his throat, “I was having a perfectly good evening to myself, but no, you had to go and be a drunk asshole and get into another bar fight. Haven’t you learned your damn lesson?”

Zoro stays silent, sinking into the passenger seat with his arms crossed and gaze set ahead.

“You’re so irresponsible! You can’t keep getting into fucking fights everywhere and expecting us to bail you out all the time. What would have happened if you’d gotten arrested, huh? Did you even think about that? You don’t even have a job to pay any of us back for bail money!” Sanji glares at the road as he goes on, pretending it’s Zoro. “Not to mention I’m always the one who ends up having to get you out of all of your stupid consequences. I should have left you in the damn snow.”

Zoro, sick of the ranting, throws his hands up. “Don’t act like you’re any better! You woulda gotten into it over some girl faster than I did! I didn’t ask them to call you! I was fucking drunk and the guy took my phone to call you! Also, I do have a job, you’re just the only one who doesn’t know because I didn’t want to deal with you mocking me about it!”

“Why the hell would I mock you over a job, you jerk?!” Sanji demands, slamming one hand on the steering wheel.

“I’m teaching kids over at the dojo on the edge of town. There, happy?” Zoro raises his voice in a mocking pitch of Sanji’s own. “Awe, how cute, little marimo is teaching kids? I never thought I’d see the day!”

God, Sanji thinks, I would kill for a cigarette.

If he’d been pissed off before, now he’s outright livid. Zoro is clearly mocking what he’d thought Sanji would say, and Sanji won’t admit it, but it kind of hurts. He’s in disbelief that Zoro has so little faith in him that he thinks he’d mock him for a job doing what he loves as if that wasn’t what Sanji himself centered his own life around.

“Seriously?” He spits. “You really think that lowly of me? Do you really think I’d sit here and make fun of you for doing something you love, even if it is with kids? Jesus!”

“Please,” Zoro snaps back, “as if that isn’t what you always do. You’re coming for my throat at every other turn! Why would I ever say something?"

“Oh, so I’m not allowed to share in everyone’s happiness just because you thought I was going to be a jerk about it? Great, good to know! If that’s how you really feel, then why the hell are you even in my car? Maybe you should just walk home!”

Zoro twists to glare at him. “Maybe I should! I don’t know why you came in the first place if you were just going to spend the whole damn ride on my ass. You should have just left me in the snow like you said you were going to! The hell do you care?”

Sanji’s had enough. He’s sick of this argument, he’s sick of Zoro dismissing him, and he’s sick of the pain bubbling up in his chest. He knows Zoro is just being bitter, but the fact that this had come so far that he outright didn’t think Sanji cared even a little about his wellbeing, despite everything they’d been through, is painful. He snaps his head around.

“What do you mean the hell do I care? Aren’t I always the one who comes looking for you when you get lost? Aren’t I always the one there when you need it? Don’t I feed you? Aren’t I the one who always has your back? I care because I’m fucking in love with you, Zoro!”

Zoro’s entire face drops. A horn blares, and Sanji’s gaze snaps back to the road just in time to swerve, narrowly avoiding an oncoming car. His car goes skidding into the ditch, coming to a sharp, abrupt halt as Sanji slams onto the breaks. Both of them remain dead silent, save for their heavy breathing.

The lights on Sanji’s dashboard blink slowly, reminding him that the heater is still on. His knuckles are white in the dim moonlight, still clenched around the curve of the steering wheel. Slowly, he forces his hands to relax, detaching his fingers one by one from the leather. Beside him, Zoro is dead still, but Sanji hears him take a deep, steadying breath.

Sanji trembles as he puts the car in park and turns the headlights off, plunging them into near darkness.

The blond lowers his hands to his lap and lets his head fall back. Neither of them speak until Sanji can’t hear his heart racing in his ears anymore. The roads outside are quiet, save for the winter wind breezing over the hood of the car.

Shit, Sanji thinks as his words finally register. He’d said something he shouldn’t have. He’d said a lot of things he shouldn’t have.

“Zoro,” he finally speaks, voice quiet, even in the near silence. “Why are you at bars getting wasted and getting into fights in the first place?”

Zoro visibly looks more sober. It’s a miracle that he hadn’t been sick, but Sanji isn’t going to jinx that one. He keeps his gaze forward but watches Zoro from his peripherals. The green-haired man keeps his gaze set forward too, hands still clenched on his knees.

“I didn’t start it,” he says again. “I just saw someone getting harassed and told the guy to lay off. S’not like you wouldn’t have done it too. He swung first, so I swung back.”

“You look like shit,” Sanji informs him, finally turning his head to look at the other man.

Zoro cracks a crooked little grin, head lolling aside to look at Sanji. “You should see the other guy.”

Sanji turns his gaze forward again, fixed on the darkness outside. For a moment, they’re both quiet once more.

“Sorry,” Zoro finally mumbles, “for makin’ you come all the way out to get me. I know it was your day off.”

“Well,” Sanji replies, “I wasn’t going to let you actually get stranded out in this weather. Even if it was tempting. You’re a pain in the ass, but you’re my pain in the ass, whether I like it or not.”

The car is warm. Sanji feels the heat prickle up the length of his arms, tucked neatly under his sweater sleeves. He can’t see the frost and flurry through the darkness, but he knows it’s there, blowing circles around the warm vehicle. Sanji can’t feel the cold, but he can feel the warmth of the car’s heat. He can feel Zoro’s presence beside him, a personal furnace, dark eyes still fixed on Sanji’s face.

He doesn’t know what he’s going to say. Sanji thinks that it might be best to ignore his earlier words, but he also knows they’re past that point. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say, but he parts his lips and turns to face Zoro, but by then it doesn’t even matter.

Zoro is already unbuckled. Sanji doesn’t even register it until the other man has practically lunged across the middle console, fingers curling into the collar of Sanji’s sweater to haul him in. Sanji thinks, what?

Zoro kisses him like he’s a breath of fresh air to a drowning man.

It’s uncomfortable: Sanji’s hip digs into the corner of his own seatbelt buckle, and the belt slots itself up against his neck, as if to tell him he should have thought to unbuckle himself too. His knee turns a little awkwardly to move with the rest of his body, Zoro tastes like blood and alcohol, and Sanji is concerned about his sweater’s elasticity. Despite everything, his fingers slide up into the hair over Zoro’s ears and pull him in, thumb dragging over those pesky golden earrings Zoro always wears. It’s a rush of heat, heedless of the cold outside.

Zoro draws back first with a little wince, and Sanji only chases a moment before he halts, taking a slow breath.

“Ouch,” Zoro grunts, releasing Sanji’s sweater in favor of his busted lip like he’d forgotten about it.

Sanji can’t help it. He laughs. Zoro gapes at him as Sanji throws his head back, howling with laughter at the other man’s face.

“God,” he gasps out, “gross. That was so gross.”

Zoro makes a face, but Sanji is already reaching to turn the headlights back on. He puts the car back into drive, and miraculously, it pulls right out of the ditch. Zoro buckles himself back in, but he keeps looking back at Sanji like he wants to say something. He opens his mouth to speak, but Sanji beats him to it.

“Let’s go home,” he says. “I’ll teach you how to kiss better later.”

He offers his hand over middle console. For a long moment, Zoro stares back at him, but finally, finally, he takes it. Zoro’s palm is calloused and rough in his, but Sanji knows his own hands aren’t soft by any means. Still, they fit just right. Had it been any other day, Sanji probably would have been pissed about the cliches, but right now, all he can think is, finally.

Sanji’s fingers are cold, but Zoro’s settle into the space between them, and the feeling vanishes just as soon as it’s come.

[crusty-chronicles]

Not So Bad (Hiei x Apprentice Reader)

Part 1

Synopsis: The gang find a small, frazzled reader after being sent to stop a demon trafficking ring. Upon arriving to the location, they quickly realized everyone was dead, everyone except you. Reader is taken in and becomes attached to a particular demon with three eyes.

An: maybe it's because I've recently watched Nimona, but I absolutely live for the 'Scruffy Hard-ass man going soft and adopting a daughter' trope. Might explain my obsession with Dilfs 💀

*****************

When Yusuke originally took this case on for Koenma, he thought it'd be a little like when they went to rescue Yukina from Terukinae. But he was quickly proven wrong the deeper they all went into the estate.

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Stop some rich assholes from trafficking demons in order to keep the peace between Demon World and The World of the Living.

There was just so much blood.

The coppery smell was so strong even Kurama with his advanced senses couldn't pick up on anything else. And the bodies, God the bodies. It seemed like everyone they came across was horribly mutilated.

Like everybody was already dead before they got there.

Hiei used his Jagan to try to find any survivors, but even he struggled to locate any life energy.

Then they all heard a noise.

A small scuttling sound, but it was there, and as they turned a corner they saw a smaller being leaning against the wall.

Said being was caked in a crimson liquid. In their hands was a small dagger. And they looked...scared?

"What the hell happened here?" Yusuke mumbled out, catching the demon's(?) attention.

They immediately tensed up and held their weapon out in front of them.

"Did you do this?" Yusuke tried a little softer and took a step forward.

"Stay back! Just stay away from me!" They were shaking now as they jutted out the dagger a little more. Judging from the sound of their voice, they were pretty young.

A scared demon was never a good sign.

Kurama, the least intimidating looking, thought he'd have a little more success calming them down. He gestured for Yusuke to back away.

"We're not here to hurt you. We just want to know what happened here, if you'd be so willing to tell us?" His words did little to relax the frazzled demon, but at least they didn't make you any more scared.

"We shouldn't be wasting our time with this. We should just kill them since they've clearly shown themselves as a threat," Hiei commented.

Your eyes widened and the stiff pose you had became aggressive.

"Please just go away! I don't wanna hurt anyone else, so please just leave!" You were near tears by this point.

"Way to go Hiei, you made em' worse," Kuwabara grumbled.

"Giving them sympathy will make it easier for them to kill you."

Kurama blocked out their bickering in favor of taking a tentative step towards the now teary-eyed demon.

"So you did do this?"

They pointed their dagger in his direction.

"They did it first! They always-! They always-!" The demon shook their head as if trying to clear it. "They always hurt me first." Their voice lowered, along with their guard.

Kurama took another step forward.

"You were their prisoner, correct? Well, you're safe now. We came here to help by order of Spirit World. Do you know what that is?"

Another step.

The small demon nodded, weapon lowered slightly. But they didn't get aggressive as Kurama neared.

A good sign.

"We promise we won't hurt you. Don't mind what Hiei says, you were just trying to protect yourself, weren't you? It'll be okay, just let us help."

They didn't notice the plant blooming behind them, much less the sleep toxin it produced. But what they did notice was their eyes getting droopy. They struggled to take in the fox demon's words, Kurama's voice lulling them to sleep.

★★★★

You awoke on a surprisingly comfortable surface. Opening your eyes, you found yourself in an unfamiliar room. The last thing you remembered was the red headed demon....

You shot up from the soft surface and scooched back until you were flush against the wall. Sure enough, there was that same demon along with the other ginger haired boy.

Were they going to kill you after all?

You stared with scared eyes at the two of them.

"Did you have a good rest?" The red haired one asked.

You looked around the small room, trying to find the other two from before. They didn't seem to be here. Your frightened eyes met the fox demon's.

You shook slightly as you spoke.

"Where am I?"

The human was the one who decided to answer your question.

"My house. You're lucky my sister doesn't mind letting you stay here for now."

You tilted your head in confusion.

"House?"

He lived here? They brought you to a home. Not a cell.

The human nodded.

"Yeah. Which reminds me, are ya hungry?"

Your guard lowered just a smidge, back moving slightly away from the wall. You were not expecting this. Shelter and food? There had to be a catch. No humans were ever this kind to you.

"Why?"

They both seemed a little caught off guard by your question.

"What do you mean 'why'? Did you think we would just leave you there or something? We're not like those other guys that locked you up, got it!"

You flinched away as the human pointed his finger out. He looked between himself and you, concern etched into his face.

"Geez, what did they do to you?"

You shook your head rapidly. You didn't want to think about that right now. You didn't want to remember everything that happened.

"Perhaps we should give them some time before we question them." Kurama could see your discomfort start to rise. It was best to let you relax and take your time adjusting. Whatever had set you off before they found you, he wanted to make sure never happened again.

Spirit World would not be so lenient if you happened to act out again.

"Now then, how about we get you fed and cleaned up, little one?"

★★★★

With a little more coaxing, you had completely lowered your guard and followed the duo deeper into the house.

True to their word, you were sat at a table with a plate of something placed in front of you. The scent coming from it was sweet and it's shape a circle.

How bizarre

You lifted one of them up to get a better sniff. You couldn't smell any poison. At least, none of which you were familiar with.

Carefully, you took a bite.

This....

This was heavenly.

The next few seconds were of you stuffing your face with the remainder of the food on your plate. It was a funny sight to see.

You ate using purely your hands, the utensils left out going untouched. You also didn't chew after your first bite. Each pancake practically being swallowed whole. They only stopped you when you went to eat the plate because 'they're both circles, so they should both taste the same.'

"Hey! You'll die if you eat that!" The human scolded. He yoinked the plate out of your hands before you could bite down.

You frowned up at him and made grabby gestures with your hands. His resolve broke almost immediately.

"Okay, okay! I'll make you some more. Don't cry."

And a part of you softened at his unintentional words.

Don't cry

They didn't want you to be upset.

Maybe they didn't want to hurt you after all.

You felt something soft being wiped across your face. Looking to your left, you saw the fox demon with a piece of white cloth.

"You're a messy one, aren't you?" There was something teasing in his tone. Despite that, his eyes showed nothing but kindness.

You let him wipe your face once more before speaking.

"Where are the other two?"

You weren't too scared of the greasy one, but the other demon.... He made you weary. He did say they should've killed you.

"Yusuke went to inform the ruler of Spirit World about what happened. And Hiei," there was a slight pause as if the fox were thinking of something.

"Hiei returned back to Demon World since he has no obligation to stay anymore."

You were back to frowning. Maybe a small part of you thought it was unfair you couldn't return home too.

"He was the one who wanted me dead." Your voice was quiet.

"Don't mind him, he's just a big jerk!" The human shouted from his place at the stove. Your mood lightened slightly.

He was just a jerk. Yeah. He wasn't evil, just mean. And if all four of them weren't like the others, then you supposed you could trust them.

At least for now.

"I remember my name from before." You mumbled.

"Do you mind telling us then? I'd be nice to have something to call you while we wait for further orders." The fox encouraged.

You decided then you liked these two. They were nice. They didn't hurt you. And now that you thought about it, your previous wounds were all healed.

"I'm Y/n."

★★★★

After a lengthy discussion with Koenma, (which was really Yusuke making the case that you were just a kid who had probably been tortured beyond belief) it was decided that you'd be under the group's care to ensure no further harm was caused.

They were to make sure you never killed another human, lest you risk the wrath of King Yamma.

You would be swapped around between the four of them to enforce this policy. And even though the threat of what you did was still very much fresh in their minds, they just couldn't believe that you'd do it again.

When Yusuke watched you, you were always laughing at his stupid jokes. Always smiling when he'd pick you up onto his shoulders to carry you wherever he went. Always embarrassed when he would brag to the moms at the park.

"My kid's better than yours. They don't bite and pick their nose." Followed by offended gasp from the mothers.

When Kurama watched you, you would tell him everything that happened that day or the day before. You'd seek him out for comfort if you had nightmares and woke up crying. You would hold his hand when something startled you.

"It's okay little one, nothing will ever harm you again."

When Kuwabara was with you, you were babied and spoiled. Always out shopping for new clothes and shoes because 'You've grown an inch since the last time. We can't have you wearing clothes that are too small for you.' Always feeding you and watching your eyes light up when he slipped you a piece of candy. You'd always let him ruffle your hair and beam when he praised you.

"Look at you! You're all skin and bones, Did Yusuke even bother to feed you!?! You're lucky you have an awesome brother like me to take care of ya!"

And Hiei...

When Hiei would watch you, he would simply observe you from the trees. He'd watch you sit in silence and pluck the grass. He'd watch you startle at any noise that was too loud. You never talked to him, never asked anything, never looked him directly in the eye.

You were always silent and scared.

"What a pathetic excuse of a demon."

The conclusion drawn by all four: you weren't a threat to anybody. You'd had a slip up, but it was out of fear rather than aggression. You were completely harmless.

★★★★

Out of the four of them, Hiei couldn't give a damn about you at all. He didn't understand the other's softness. He understood their sympathy, but not why they bothered keeping you around. The mission was over and the observation was complete.

You were weak and skiddish. Afraid of your own shadow and any new faces. Too pathetic to even be called a demon. Too frail to ever lift a weapon and strike.

You were no longer their responsibility.

Just a burden. One that he would not worry about anymore.

Or at least that was what he told himself until the responsibility was once again forced upon him.

Yusuke had a special mission for Spirit World that he just couldn't get out of.

Kurama was having family over that would surely be suspicious of the smaller being attached to his hip.

Kuwabara was being forced to attend some out of state event with his sister.

All of these events would take a week at the least, and a month at worst.

Which left Hiei....

The demon who momentarily thought to dump you off at Genkai's.

It was thanks to that damn Detective's taunt that he hadn't.

"What's wrong three-eyes? Can't look after a kid for a few days? Scared because they're stronger than you?"

And damn his pride for falling for it. But even though he was forced to care for you, he would not be forced to stay in the human world when he did it.

You would come to Demon World with him so he could fulfill his proper duties.

★★★★

He half listened to Kuwabara's rant of what you could and couldn't eat. That oaf was too attached to you.

He didn't pay any attention when Yusuke told him what would make you smile and laugh. What possible reason did he have for remembering that?

But he did listen when Kurama pulled him aside to talk before he left.

"Their safety is the first priority. Do not let anything happen to them." There was a flicker of gold in his eyes. You had too much importance in their lives.

He took off with you the day after. But not without giving a warning of 'If you're too weak to keep up, I won't come back for you.'

You nodded, but kept silent. At least he wouldn't have to worry about listening to any idiotic ramblings.

The journey to Demon World was quiet. Too quiet, with the occasional sound of your missteps behind the three eyed demon. Not a word was spoken. If he hadn't felt your presence besides him, he would have assumed you weren't there.

Good.

You wouldn't be snot nosed brat and give him trouble.

But as the two of you reached the entrance, the lingering silence was disrupted.

"I haven't been home in a long time...Do you think my friends will remember me?"

It might've been the first words you ever spoke directly to Hiei. They were soft but hopeful. And if he had been anyone else, he would've assured you. Would've let you carry on the conversation and engaged.

But he wasn't.

And truthfully, your question irked him. Didn't you know it was survival of the fittest here? And friends? Demons didn't have friends. You were a naive dope who wouldn't make it five seconds by yourself.

"They're probably all dead if they're anything like you." Weak like you.

You didn't speak anymore after that.

You looked upset, but didn't cry. You just continued to follow Hiei to Mukuro's territory.

★★★★

You'd forgotten how thick the air was here. How tense it felt with the spirit energies clashing for dominance. You wished you'd stayed behind at the strong old lady's house now. Home didn't really feel like home anymore with the amount of time you spent in the world of the living.

Not only that, but you were in a foreign place with a demon who you were also unfamiliar with.

It wasn't exactly your fault. Hiei had never really been welcoming to you. He'd never really been nice either. You figured it was best to stay out of his way and vice versa. And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't want to kill you anymore.

Maybe he'd be a little nicer.

But it just felt like he hated you even more for sticking around.

You looked up at the makeshift building he led you in. It was huge with walls that seemed to stretch forever. It made sense, you supposed, for a former Demon King to still be so well off. And while a compound like this housed many demons, you never felt more alone with your own kind.

One familiar face that belonged to a stranger.

You didn't like it here.

But you couldn't voice that opinion. You didn't want Hiei to think any less of you than he already did. Because then, the others might start to hate you too. So you sucked it up and persevered.

You stood right next to the three eyed demon as he conversed with Mukuro. Both of them catching up on the current events surrounding the Maki Barrier, and how to decrease the amount of humans trickling in. You'd never seen him this friendly before. The scowl that you thought was permanent had practically vanished.

He really did hate you, didn't he?

"So who's this little one? A new recruit?" Mukuro lightly jested.

There was a scoff before Hiei answered.

"A nuisance that I'm unfortunately stuck with. They're of no help here, so try to ignore them."

"Don't be so crass. I'd expect you to be kinder considering you have a little sister of your own." The former ruler scolded.

You hardly registered she kneeled down in front of you until she started talking. She most likely wanted to address you eye to eye.

"What is your name, if you don't mind me asking?"

You almost answered, but you thought against it. You'd only be here for a few days. After that you were never coming back here. You'd jump into the arms of whoever was back first and let them comfort you. Be able to feel safe and content again.

"Don't feel like talking? Well that's alright. Can you fight?"

You shook your head.

"No? Then it's best you stay here for the time being while we're gone. We have important work to do and it'd be a shame to be distracted. Can you fend for yourself, or do you need a guard accompanying you?"

You raised a finger up, signaling the first option. She smiled at you before getting up. And when you looked over towards the other demon, you could see him scowling again.

"We'll be off, let's go." Mukuro ordered.

Hiei let her go for a second before addressing you.

"Stay put. I won't go looking for you if you disappear. And stay out of trouble."

You didn't understand why he had to be so mean all the time. Nevertheless, you nodded. Sitting up against the wall and watching him head off.

Now you truly were alone.

Perhaps if you had one of those rectangular human devices, you'd be able to communicate with Kurama. Ask for advice on what you should do here. Or just convince him to come get you.

Maybe you could've convinced Yusuke to take you with him. At least then you'd be laughing the whole time. You wouldn't feel as small as you did now.

You should've asked Kuwabara to stay with you. He probably would have folded immediately. But you didn't want to do that. He wanted to spend time with his own flesh and blood. Who were you to take that from him?

You shook the thoughts from your head. There was nothing you could do about it now. You'd just have to wait things out.

And wait them out you did.

For hours.

Watching the daylight slowly dwindle down.

Just how long had you been waiting?

Your eyes drifted shut.

"Hey! Hey brat! Wake up!"

They snapped open at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. You were met with the sight of a group of demons. Hostile demons. Who lifted you up by the collar of your shirt.

"You're Hiei's pet, aren't you? One of the ones who saves those filthy humans instead of feasting on them? The disgraceful bastard."

Your first instinct was to call for help. But you knew nobody would hear you here. Nobody would care. So you struggled and kicked your legs.

"Quit it! Why don't we show that traitor what happens when you go against the natural order of things?"

The other surrounding demons laughed and nodded vigorously.

★★★★

A whole day. Hiei spent the whole day out there sending humans back through the barrier. A whole day dealing with those idiots and erasing their memories.

Maybe he should have let you come. It had to be the most irksome and repetitive task he's ever done. Simple and easy.

And maybe he had been a little cruel with you. But you were a demon. You shouldn't be acting like a wimp. You needed to grow up and deal with it. Softness only led to injury here.

Which reminded him....

Where the hell were you?

You weren't at the spot he left you at. Didn't he tell you not to move. Why of all times you chose to be disobedient, he didn't know. You always did what you were told. So why now were you being a brat and hiding.

He undid the bandage on his forehead and opened his Jagan, using it to search the compound for you. Room by room, hallway by hallway.

But he couldn't sense you.

And only then did ice run through his veins. You weren't here. He left you and told you to stay put, and now you were gone.

Did you run away?

No, you loved the others. You'd want a way to go back to them.

Did you leave to find him?

No, you didn't like Hiei as far as he knew.

So what could it be?

What could have possibly explained your disappearance?

Were you taken?

No.

That couldn't be it. Because if it was, he was screwed.

It would be his fault.

Whatever the hell had happened to you...

If you were dead or injured, it was his fault.

And he knew the others would never forgive him for it. Hell, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if your body was found somewhere. He said he would watch over you. He gave his word you would come back unharmed.

You were just a child.

And if you were dead....

He made his way outside and used his Jagan to search for any trace of you. Anything that would give him a clue to where you were. He got wind of a spike of spirit energy.

His body already on the move towards it. And in his third eye, he saw you screaming. He pushed his limits as far as they would go to get there faster.

★★★★

He didn't know what to expect when he got there. But it wasn't this. A sight he never thought he'd see again.

You were splattered with blood, but alive. The demons around you were dead or on the verge of it. You were backed against a tree with your dagger jutted out. Tears streaming down your face while you shook uncontrollably.

He tried to approach you, but you just cried harder and curled in on yourself. Mind so frantic, you didn't recognize him. Or maybe you did and you just didn't want him near you.

He really shouldn't have been that cruel to you.

There was nothing he could do about that now. He needed to bring you back, but as he took another step towards you, you lashed out at him.

Taking a precise swing he barley avoided. A warning to keep back. Just like the one you gave back at that trafficking ring. You were cutthroat like this. Fear making you stronger.

Despite his reluctance, he used his Jagan to put you to sleep. The only other option besides knocking you out. You'd been through enough today. Kurama would deal with the rest. You liked him the best anyways.

He picked you up carefully and quickly made his way back towards the barrier. The sooner you got out of here, the better it was for everyone.

What was it that detective said? Try to make you laugh? He couldn't do that. He doubted you would have listened anyways if he tried.

The oaf! What was it about you and food? You liked the sweet concoctions the humans made. The ones that would turn your teeth to dust. But there was no way you would ever take anything from him.

And Kurama? He was incapable of showing the same softness that fox did. Of being that vulnerable. He had a feeling he'd just make it worse.

The only thing he could do now was keep you under until he reached Genkai's little shack. Then he'd be able to get Kurama to deal with you.

The small home was in sight. He pushed himself a little further as the sun peaked over the mountains. Making rapid knocks against the door frame until it slid open.

"What do we have here? I don't suppose you're here to see Yukina?" The old lady greeted.

Then she noticed the frantic state Hiei was in. The stoic demon had lost his composure. And in his arms was a smaller being who looked to be having nightmares.

"Whatever you did, good luck explaining that to the other three boys."

★★★★

Kurama was furious to say the least upon spying Hiei outside. You weren't with him, which meant one thing.

"What happened?" Emerald eyes flashing an eerie golden.

"I'll explain on the way. They aren't harmed physically, but I...I don't know how to handle this."

That was all it took for the fox demon to rush over. Eyes falling on your curled up form when he got there with Hiei following suit.

Puu had you enveloped in his feathers. Making soft cooing sounds at you while you thrashed in your sleep. Trying to calm you down. He was part of Yusuke's soul after all.

The Phoenix hissed as Hiei and Kurama approached.

"It's okay. Let me help them, then they're all yours until Yusuke gets back." Kurama coaxed, inching towards where you were sleeping.

Puu begrudgingly sat still and let him get closer. A type of flower bloomed from Kurama. He held it up to your nose, and all at once your body went limp. Relaxing against the nightmares that plagued your mind.

He lightly moved around your face, checking for any injuries. There were none. He released you and let Puu tuck you back in.

The next few days the process would repeat. Kurama would soothe you whenever you started thrashing around in your sleep. And Hiei would watch from the side, guilt starting to consume him.

You didn't deserve this.

You had never done anything to directly spite him.

And the one time you tried to talk to him, he dismissed you.

He was only hard on you because he wanted you to stop being weak. He wanted you to be strong and stop getting scared by everything. Turns out you were just scared of him.

When you awoke a few more days later, Kurama pushed for him to leave. To give you some space to adjust. And while he physically left the room, he still kept his Jagan on you.

"Are you okay?" Kurama asked.

You shook your head and started crying. You were pulled into a hug by the fox demon. Sobbing into his stomach as you remembered what happened.

"If you want, I can make those bad memories disappear. If you don't want to see them anymore, then you don't have to."

And you shook your head once again.

"I-hiccup- don't wanna forget. I don't like what happened, but forgetting is even worse!" Your words barley comprehensible, but understood nevertheless.

"Okay. Just try to relax for now. Kuwabara and Yusuke will be back soon."

That seemed to calm you down for the time being.

And it was then Hiei realized you were not as weak as he had previously thought. You were bearing the burden of what happened. Something that you didn't even verbalize to Kurama. You'd also managed to defeat all those demons by yourself without being injured. Your power unpredictable than what you'd been showing these past few months.

He doubted you would forgive him, but if you did, then he would train you to protect yourself. Give you better control of your strength so you'd be ready if this ever happened again. It would never happen again.

Maybe then this awful feeling would finally go away. The feeling that had him lingering here instead of attending to his duties in the Demon World. The one that made him feel like scum everytime he caught sight of you.

★★★★

Safe to say, Yusuke and Kuwabara were not happy when they got back. Both fussing over you with the former wrestling you away from his spirit beast.

"What happened? Whose ass do I have to kick?!?!"

You shook your head and looked away from him. It was just like when they had first met you. All that progress of having you come out of your shell gone.

"You don't look so great. How about I take you back to mine and I'll cook you up a big dinner? You can take all the blankets if you want, too."

But despite Kuwabara's encouragement, you still shook your head.

"Wanna stay here. It's safe." You finally responded.

"You sure?"

You nodded this time.

You really didn't feel safe being out in the open again. And you had no doubt Hiei already told them it was all your fault. He was probably waiting to chew you out for not staying put.

"Well in that case, guess I'm sleeping over. What about you?" Kuwabara's question directed at the greasy haired boy.

"My mom won't give a damn either way. I'm good to be here for a few days. Which reminds me...."

He pulled a small penguin plushie from his bag.

"I got this for you, you little squirt. Hug it tight and it'll get rid of all your nightmares."

You took the toy from his hand and immediately squeezed it in a hug. It took all of about five seconds before you started crying.

"Hey! What's wrong!?!?"

"I love it so-hiccup-much!!!"

You were bonked softly on the back of your head.

"You had me going for a second...Now, give me names and addresses. Somebody needs to pay for making my kid cry."

"I'm with ya, Urameshi! Let's teach em' a lesson!"

You were finally able to crack a smile after that.

★★★★

So it began again. The three of them volunteering to stay with you while you rested at Genkai's. A certain three eyed demon watching from afar. No longer upset by your presence, but worried.

You were okay now, but if something like that happened again, Spirit World would surely do something about it. You were already under enough scrutiny as it was.

Right now, you were currently conversing with Yukina, of all people. Both of you talking in hushed tones.

"It's nice to have another person around. Genkai's nice, but it's not the same."

You nodded at her words.

"Yeah, I like the others but they can be rowdy at times. It's nice talking."

You decided you liked her.

But her eyes looked familiar. Like Hiei's.

But there was no way.

Right?

"Why did you leave the demon world? Don't you miss your family?" You asked.

"I left to find my brother. He was cast into the sea by our people. As for them, well... They were too set in their ways. Hearts as cold and frozen as our land. I didn't want to be apart of that anymore."

You put a hand on her shoulder.

"Oh. I'm sorry for asking."

Yukina smiled at you with a soft expression.

"Don't be. That chapter of my life is closed now. Though I do still hope to come across my brother one day... What about you? Where is your family?"

"I was taken from them by some humans a few decades back. They trapped me and...It wasn't pleasant, what they did to me. But they're gone now. That part of my life is closed too. Now I'm beginning again with people who treat me with so much kindness, it feels like I'm dreaming."

You two had more in common than Hiei would have liked.

He really shouldn't have been so cruel to you.

It was decided. He was going to train you. Maybe swallow his pride and apologize.

It wouldn't be easy convincing the others, but he was going to try. The first obstacle was Kuwabara. That oaf wouldn't let him near you without a fight. And while he understood, it was for your own good.

"N-O! The answer is no. Last time we left you alone with them, they were kidnapped!!!"

"They need to get stronger."

"No they don't! We'll protect them from anything that happens!"

"You weren't there the last time."

It was like arguing with a brick wall. Eventually it circled back to him and Yusuke being the ones that would train you. To which Hiei brought up the point they'd be too soft with you. They'd hold back and go easy.

It was enough.

The next obstacle was Yusuke. Whose first response was to fight at the suggestion. Another troublesome task to deal with.

"You didn't even like them a few weeks ago! Why the hell should we trust you again!!!"

"You can check up on them."

"Like that puts me at ease! You'd be too rough with them! They're just a little kid!"

And Hiei has to bring up the point of your power going unchecked. If spirit world found out about this, you'd probably be executed. But if you learned to control yourself, that possibility would never happen. If you got stronger, you wouldn't get hurt.

It didn't take much convincing after that.

The final obstacle was Kurama, who would be the hardest to convince without consequences.

"Let me train them."

He received a glare in response.

"No."

Flat and simple.

"They need guidance."

"You couldn't guarantee their safety upon arrival. Am I supposed to believe you won't scar them further?"

He offered up the only thing he had left.

"My life. You have my life they'll be safe with me."

"Very well, but it's not me you have to convince."

It was you.

And when he approached you, you looked down and silenced yourself. Tensing up like he was going to yell at you.

"Have you recovered?" It sounded more like a command than question.

But you nodded anyways.

He used to like how quiet you were. Now he despised it.

"For five months you will train nonstop. You will get ahold of your spirit energy. And you will be capable enough to defend yourself without crying. Do you understand?"

But this time you did say something in return. Something unexpected.

"No. I don't want to go."

He had never been nice to you before. Never wanted to spend time with you. So you were suspicious. And maybe you secretly believed he left you on purpose for those other demons to find. That he set you up in the hopes you'd be dead when he got there.

You squeezed the penguin you were given. It really did calm you down.

You didn't want to give him a chance anymore.

"It's for your benefit, not mine." And he internally cringed at what was to come next.

"I apologize for my behavior, let me do what's right."

If anyone besides you heard that, he'd kill them. But for now he was awaiting your response.

You tilted your head as you thought of what to say. This was different. Hiei never apologized for anything. Least of all you. And you were sure this is the most you two have ever talked.

"Are you really sorry?" You still didn't believe him quite yet.

"Yes." And he further swallowed down his pride for your trust.

"And you won't be mean anymore?"

"Yes."

You took a deep breath.

"Okay."

★★★★

[ravennmad]

i've come back changed, i can feel it in my bones chapter 7: handcuffed to the spell i was under

mike’s heart is racing as he ducks behind a potted plant with his hand cradled to his chest. he’s sneaking out of his room to talk to emily, sure, but the adrenaline rush he’s experiencing makes him feel worlds better than he does sitting in bed. if he squints, he’s in the halls of the sanatorium again.

that’s not supposed to be a comforting fantasy, but mike doesn’t have time to wonder if he needs psychiatric help. he feels like he’s in control, again.

he also feels a little dizzy.

he checks up and down the hall before slipping into emily’s room, swiping imaginary dirt off of his good hand with his hospital gown. 

“did your nurse say you could get out of bed?” emily asks, unimpressed. she hardly glances up at him before returning to inspecting her nails.

“i go through all this effort to come see you, and this is my reward?” mike asks, sitting down on a chair and taking a deep breath. he feels a little lightheaded. as soon as he steps into the room he clocks the door and the emergency exit down the hall. 

“you’re being stupid, michael.”

he sighs. he wishes anyone in this goddamn hospital would just let him take care of himself. he’d managed perfectly well for the worst seven hours of his life, thank you very much. “you want me to leave, then?”

“well, i didn’t say that, did i?” she’s hiding a smile.

“that’s what i thought,” he grins, and he can feel himself softening. he’d missed talking to emily. they’ve always been close, even before they dated.

she folds her arms and looks him up and down, looking concerned. he feels a little uncomfortable, knowing how battered he still looked. he was still bandaged up on his neck and face, but the bruise on his eye was all sorts of yellow and purple.

he wishes he had a pocket to stick his bad hand in. he misses his jacket. he misses the wolf.

her eyes narrow. “when was the last time you were drugged?”

“jesus, emily, can you just let me handle myself?”

“pretty sure last time you ‘handled yourself’ you passed out. on the floor.”

he grits his teeth. “oh my god. nobody will drop that. can we please just talk about something else?” he’d been so close to getting them all out of that damn police station.

“i’m sorry, i just…” emily isn’t looking at him anymore, back to picking at her nails. his eyes flick to the motion. she swallows, hard. “worry about you, or whatever. it’s hard not to freak out when i… see you, like this. any of you.”

mike chews at the inside of his cheek. it tastes vaguely metallic when he swallows. “i know. everyone’s fucked up. jess…”

they fall silent. mike irritatedly presses his aching left hand harder to his side. jessica’s been in and out of surgery all week. mike honestly can’t believe she survived the night, and it’s killing him that she had to. that he hadn’t been faster, wasn’t able to take her to the sanatorium with him. he sits with her as much as he can and holds her hand, feeling hollow with guilt. cold. scared.

emily folds her arms tightly. another tell. he’s cataloguing them without thinking about it. he can tell she doesn’t like to talk about jess. mike feels vaguely guilty for the chasm between them. “matt went to go get the rental car,” she says, subtle as ever in her change of topic. “with ash. i think it’s kind of stupid, i mean, we lost all of our important bags, anyway.”

“are you saying you wouldn’t get outta here if you had the chance, em?” mike sighs, leaning his head against the wall. not because he’s dizzy. because… he’s chill. super chill.

“i don’t know, mike, i can’t really walk,” emily sighs. she’s moved to twisting her ring around her finger, the motion catching his attention once again. she’d hobbled around on a broken ankle for a couple of hours after she left the mines, and it was wrapped and elevated in her bed right now. “at least we’re in a building.”

adrenaline had really saved both of their asses. mike’s doctor told him he should have passed out as soon as he’d cut his fingers off. 

the steady beating of her heart rate monitor is grating on him, even though he knows it won’t stop. he’s keyed into the background noise happening in the hall, the stinging scent of antiseptic that permeates this awful, sterile place. he guesses it’s better than the smell of rot. he presses his hand to his side, again, the dull ache anchoring him back to his own body. 

he really looks at emily. he hasn’t seen her this dressed down in years, in her hospital gown. she still somehow manages to do her makeup every day, an observation mike never would have made if he hadn’t spent such a long time being her boyfriend. it covers the circles under her eyes. continued on ao3 :)