#the fireflies wouldn’t have been able to do anything anyway

[skoulsons]

-Spoilers for end of tlou1 in the last paragraph-

Love isn’t a feeling. If it was, none of us would truly love anything. If we base it off of only feelings, then we wouldn’t love our spouse, parents, siblings, or friends. Those butterflies fade. That giddiness with that person will ebb and flow. Arguments and disagreements come up; and the second they do, people leave. Because they’re relying on how this person occasionally makes their heart flutter.

Love is in actions. Love is in the commitment to that person or group of people. It’s how you treat them. Through arguments, disagreements, heartbreak, anger, hormones, moods, and whatever other circumstance, you love them. You stick by their side and they stick by yours. Love is sacrifice. Sacrificing your needs for them and them for yours. Love is forever.

And this is exactly Joel and Ellie. It’s their sacrifices. Their commitment to each other, true commitment. Their actions toward the other, especially in terms of protecting the other. Joel giving up his nights rest to watch over her. Ellie waking up early and letting him have his much needed rest while she watches over him. How he tells her to hide during the ambush and he kills the hunters and finishes Bryan off so she doesn’t have to. When the infected were attacking and he wordlessly protected her like he trained his entire life to do just that. How Ellie will protect him through Winter without ever griping. Because she loves him. She loves him in the big, fast paced moments. In their adrenaline, running and hiding, but also in the small moments. Their nights, days of teaching her survival techniques, and especially now. These moments where he is dependent on her. And how she tries, just as he’s done for her, because she loves him.

And how, in the end, he will save her. He will doom the earth to save the world. That girl. How he will kill every single person in his way because they’re going to take her away from him. He sacrifices the chance for the world to go back to the way it was. He sacrifices the integrity of their relationship just so she can live. So that he can continue to protect, provide, and care for. So he can continue his commitment to her. So that he can continue to love her

[cherienymphe]

Escapism

Topper Thornton x Reader

Summary: Your brother always stayed up with you whenever you couldn’t sleep and nothing has changed now that his best friend is the reason for your late nights.

warnings: Dub-Con, stepcest, cheating, toxic relationship, semi-public sex, jealousy, secret relationship, side of Rafe x reader, lots of playing in Rafe's face, kook!reader, non canon ages

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

⭑

You were a shitty girlfriend.

Perhaps, in some ways, you were being too harsh on yourself because it wasn’t like Rafe would ever win boyfriend of the year. The blond came with a plethora of issues that could only be fixed with therapy—something you probably wouldn’t even be able to pay him to do—and he chose to handle every single one with one horrible coping mechanism after the next. When it was all said and done though, you really only had yourself to blame.

It wasn’t like you were a stranger to the man before you started dating him.

You knew Rafe well—you’d grown up with him—so was it really his fault that you chose to ignore every single thing you knew about him in the hopes that he would mature and change? Was it his fault that you forgave him time and time again with the hopes that he could still change? Was he the asshole for being him or were you the asshole for going into this with the expectation he’d be something he wasn’t?

“Come on,” Topper would say to you in the dead of night. “You and I both know what he’s like—what he’s always been like.”

It was usually after he’d listen to you cry over Rafe and whatever girl he’d kissed or whatever awful thing he’d said to you, pupils blown and alcohol on his breath. He’d pull you to sit back, hands rubbing over your arms in an attempt to calm you down. It was always well into the night when you both should’ve been asleep, but per your routine as of late, you’d be waiting up for Rafe to call or text or walk through the door.

Anything to let you know he wasn’t passed out drunk in a ditch somewhere.

“Rafe can take care of himself just fine.”

Or some variation of that would reach your ears, and you’d press your hands to your face in exhaustion. You’d never miss the bitterness—borderline malice—in Topper’s voice as he said something like that. You knew it wasn’t directed at you, but more so your relationship with the other blond as a whole and his frustration with it. Topper never wanted you to date Rafe, and you knew he took no pleasure in watching Rafe prove him right.

Rafe may have been his best friend…

…but you were ten and Topper was twelve when his mother married your father. He’d been protective of you since day one, having been an only child before that, and you knew that he hated having to let you make your own choices and mistakes with the guy you’d both once called a friend. If you and Rafe came out of this relationship intact, you doubted you’d ever call him ‘friend’ again.

He’d hurt you too much for that.

You weren’t a bad girlfriend for thinking such thoughts. Nor were you a bad girlfriend for trying to break up with him on several occasions, something Rafe would always talk you out of with promises of remorse and change. You didn’t even think you were a bad girlfriend for venting about your frustration and hurt to his best friend—your stepbrother.

You were a shitty girlfriend for allowing something to continue that should’ve ended years ago.

Fed up with talking about Rafe and how badly he’d hurt your feelings earlier in the day, Topper had pressed his lips to yours, effectively shutting you up with a kiss. A kiss that you returned, shoulders sagging and a weight lifting off of your chest as his arms circled around your waist. Rafe had called you a nag hours before, subsequently telling you he wouldn’t be staying over before hanging up without another word.

It had hurt you, but you were sure Topper was just relieved to have you all to himself.

Or at the very least, wouldn’t be tempted to fuck you anyway—Rafe under the same roof be damned.

You both were quiet in the dark living room—your parents asleep upstairs—and the longer you kissed him, the more you just wanted to forget about Rafe. The t-shirt you wore was bunching up under the blonde’s hands, and you gasped when his mouth trailed down to your neck. You could feel how much he wanted you, and any other night you would’ve loved to drag this out, but much like Topper…

You just wanted to feel him inside of you.

You never wore any underwear to bed, both for convenience and just because. It was something Topper had come to appreciate, and when you helped him pull his shorts down, cock springing free, you couldn’t slide down the couch fast enough. He hooked one hand under your thigh, helping you and dragging you closer, the other squeezing his cock with long strokes.

He rubbed the tip of himself against you a few times, coating the head in your essence, unsurprised at how wet and ready for him you already were. The feel made you bite the inside of your cheek, lifting your hips in an attempt to get him to sink into you even if just a little. You didn’t miss the soft chuckle that rang through the air.

“I’m sorry,” he huskily told you, pushing into you with one slow thrust. “Is that better?”

You hated his mocking tone, but not as much as you loved the feel of him stretching you out. You clawed at him, pulling him closer, sighing into his mouth when he finally kissed you again. The movements of his hips were slow, too afraid to do too much and make too much noise. The pace was enough to make your head spin and was definitely enough to make you squirm beneath him. When you started lifting your hips to meet him halfway, he groaned into the kiss.

Rafe was the furthest thing from your mind.

Sliding your hands up Topper’s frame, you threaded your fingers through his hair, nails lightly dragging along his scalp. By the way he shuddered against you, you knew that he liked that. Every snap of his hips into yours had you swallowing down every noise that threatened to escape. His cock stroked your walls in a way that made you squeeze your eyes shut.

Shifting, you felt his hand slide down to rest on the inside of your thigh, pushing it and spreading it until your leg hung off of the couch. At that, you did gasp, a choaked sound escaping your lips before you snapped them shut. His free hand was beside your head now, forearm resting on the couch cushion. You both were quiet, but your soft labored breathing could still be heard if you listened hard enough.

When you softly moaned his name, he shushed you.

“I want…” you fought to catch your breath enough to speak. “I want you to come inside of me.”

You felt another shiver travel up his spine, head falling into the crook of your neck at that. You knew he wasn’t close, but you felt like making that known. It wasn’t something you both made a habit of, but you loved the feel of Topper spilling into you, cock twitching as he coated your walls in his release. When you pushed against his hand, he got the hint, and you circled his waist with your legs, ankles hooking at the small of his back.

Topper took his time fucking you.

He often did, feeling no need to rush or no fear that you’d get caught. You didn’t know if he was just that confident in how quickly you could pull yourselves together or that it simply wouldn’t happen. Some part of you wondered if maybe he just didn’t care. You knew that couldn’t be true for several reasons, the most pressing being your boyfriend.

It was funny.

Rafe had probably cheated on you more times than you actually knew of, but the minute some other guy looked at you for even just a second too long, he was gearing up for a fight. You didn’t know if he was performative or just that skilled at compartmentalization, but you hated it. What good did it do for him to act so noble and possessive when way too many people knew how much he’d embarrassed you over the past six months?

You didn’t doubt that he’d try to kill Topper in some coked out rage if he ever knew.

Topper’s hand was cupping your breast under your shirt as he pressed kisses to your neck and jaw. He was whispering in your ear, telling you how good you felt and how wet you were, and how much he wanted to feel you coming around him. He knew what to say to send you over the edge, and at the first sound, he covered your mouth in another kiss to swallow your moans.

You squeezed him tight, walls clenching as he fucked you through your climax, cock plunging into your soaking cunt as he chased his own. His thrusts grew sloppy, and they weren’t as languid, and his blond strands kissed your forehead as they grew messy and awkward with sweat. Your legs had long fallen around him, and you pressed your hand against his lower back.

When he came, he buried his face into where your neck and shoulder met, groaning into the skin. You shuddered at the feel of him spilling into you, still clenching around him as remnants of your orgasm finally started to dissipate. His breathing was heavy against your skin before pulling back just enough to touch his forehead to yours.

You could only hear your efforts to catch your breath.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

You nodded, positive he could feel the action against his forehead. You fingered the top of his shorts, and you bit your lip. You didn’t say it back often—something you still had trouble accepting and admitting—but you told him enough so that he’d never doubt it.

“Can I stay in your room tonight?” you quietly asked him. “Rafe probably won’t come over until after noon…if he comes over, at all.”

You tried not to let your voice shrink at the thought, but Topper caught it anyway. Pulling out of you and sitting up, he grabbed your arm and pulled you with him. Righting himself, he pulled you to your feet, his other hand pushing his hair away from his face.

“You know you never have to ask,” he told you.

His hands were comfortably on your waist as he followed behind you, guiding you upstairs.

“What…? You got a problem or something?”

You knew it was coming when you were the only one who wasn’t laughing, unamused as he recounted his tale of how he’d cornered Pope. You’d never known the other guy to get into any trouble or bother anyone, and while you knew there would never be anything you could do about whatever petty rivalry your brother and your boyfriend and their friends involved themselves in, Pope just seemed like low hanging fruit.

He wasn’t even the type to fight back.

“I just don’t find it funny,” was all you said, squinting under the harsh rays of the sun. “You know Pope’s not even like that. I might’ve laughed if it were JJ or…I don’t know…someone who would actually put up a fight.”

Rafe’s entire demeanor clouded over at that, and you were prepared for whatever was about to come out of his mouth when Topper spoke.

“Rafe,” the other blond warned. “Chill.”

He seemed to anticipate Rafe’s ire just as much as you did, and Rafe paused, glancing at his best friend before huffing. He leaned back in his chair, eyeing you with that cold blue gaze of his. The sun shone off of his dirty blond strands, the tresses curtained along his forehead, and you watched him bring his hand up to rest against his lips before finally settling on a better response than what you both knew you almost got.

“So, what are you trying to say?”

Choosing to end this fight before it even began, you sighed, looking away.

“I’m not saying anything, Rafe. You can do whatever you want,” you murmured. “You always do.”

He heard that loud and clear, and the laugh he let out wasn’t humorous in the slightest. You heard him roughly get up from his seat, chair scraping against the wooden floor. You watched him snatch his glass off the table, mumbling something about needing a refill but not before making a comment to Topper that was solely intended for you.

“Get your sister, Top,” your boyfriend drawled, making you cross your arms over your chest.

You could feel the man in question’s eyes on you, and you avoided his gaze.

“Sometimes I swear you like fighting with him just as much as he does you.”

At that, you scoffed, looking at him in disbelief.

“I didn’t laugh because he beat up Pope Heyward…and that was apparently a problem,” you pointed out to which Topper merely shrugged, unable to disagree. “I apologize for not finding it funny.”

“Babe,” he softly said, reaching out and touching your arm. “He’s a Pogue, and you know how Rafe is.”

His excuse for Rafe’s behavior only made you roll your eyes, and you heard him sigh as you reached for your stuff. He said your name, trying to get you to sit back down, but you were only more determined to leave once you caught sight of Kelce walking up the steps to the restaurant too. Dealing with all three of them at once was enough to give you a coronary.

“Where are you going?”

You didn’t answer Rafe as you passed him on his way back to the table, ignoring Kelce too when he said hey to you. You hated to take it out on him when he didn’t actually do anything this time, but you knew his mindset was just as bad as Rafe’s, and so you figured it was preemptively deserved. You didn’t need to be a genius to know that Rafe was going to talk shit about you the second you were out of sight.

It was one of those days where you really felt emboldened to finally break up with him for good. Rafe hadn’t been good to you nor right for you since the beginning, and you knew that if Topper was a lesser person, he would’ve said ‘I told you so’ a million times by now. You were grateful that he didn’t make you feel worse for being naïve enough to ever believe in Rafe Cameron.

Although, some part of you wondered if having you crawl into his bed night after night was satisfaction enough.

It was hours later when he was softly apologizing for both his and Rafe’s behavior, fingers digging into your waist as you pushed yourself down onto him. Rafe had long fallen asleep, his light snores easing your worry as you’d snuck out of your room. Topper was awake—as you’d hoped—and it was true that you’d only intended to talk. Rafe’s attitude hadn’t been much better when you finally reunited again, something you were sure Topper had overheard.

“You really want to talk about Rafe, right now?” he’d whispered, hand sliding along your thigh.

“Topper,” you’d quietly hissed in warning. “Not…tonight. He’s…”

You didn’t need to finish that sentence, feeling no need to as you gestured towards his door. The blond had fixed you with a look that made your stomach flip, a hint of a smirk dancing along his pink lips as he held your gaze.

“That’s never stopped us before.”

You’d swallowed at that, feeling unsure, but that was a feeling that had never stopped the other man before either. The first time he’d ever kissed you, you’d felt unsure, but Topper hadn’t cared, holding you to him and fingering you on the back deck while his mother threw some grand party downstairs. You still remembered the way you came around his fingers, an admission of insecurities somehow leading to your first ever sexual experience—and with your own stepbrother no less.

“Topper,” you’d quietly warned when he brushed his lips against yours. “Rafe…”

“Do…not…talk about him, right now,” he’d slowly said, fingers grazing along your folds just as slow.

Despite your hand against his shoulder, he’d laid you down, lips finding the skin just under your jaw.

“He’s the last thing I want to talk about, right now.”

…and he’d meant it, curving his fingers into you while pressing open mouthed kisses to your jaw and throat and collarbone. Any protest you had was swallowed down and quickly forgotten at the slick feeling between your legs, Topper’s fingers sinking into your cunt with ease. Your own twisted into the fabric of his shirt, hips lifted towards his hand, fighting to swallow down a whimper each time his thumb circled your clit.

“Fuck,” he’d cursed into your skin. “I love how wet you get for me.”

It wasn’t long after that that he was hurrying to get inside of you, shirts and shorts discarded as he pulled you on top of him. When you sank down onto him, he’d sighed, throwing his head back and lifting his hips. With your hands on his stomach, you’d lifted yourself until the tip of his cock just barely remained inside of you before sliding back down.

You gently bounced on top of him, hyper aware of who was just in the other room. You could tell that Topper wasn’t a huge fan, feeling that you had to pick one between being on top and being gentle, but it couldn’t be both. When his hands slid up your frame, they rested on the sides of your neck before pulling you down. Your eyes fell closed when you kissed him, and you gasped into his mouth when he lifted his hips, driving himself up into you.

You mentally cursed, realizing you’d been tricked.

With his hands quickly sliding down to snake around your waist, Topper wasted no time in lifting his hips to push his cock up into you. The force of his thrusts had you squeezing him in more ways than one, lips parted and eyes tight as he roughly fucked himself up into you. His bed shook under his movements, and you couldn’t stop yourself from whining into his mouth, the sound of him sinking into you reaching your ears.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he hummed, one hand coming up to rest on your cheek.

When his bed knocked into the wall, he halted his movements, using the moment to both catch his breath and listen. Your own heart stuttered, digging your nails into his chest because you’d literally told Topper so. Once Rafe was knocked out, it was usually pretty hard to wake him up, but it would be just your luck that this night of all nights he’d be a light sleeper.

You really didn’t want to imagine the chaos if he left your room in search of you only to find his best friend balls deep inside of you.

When no worrying sounds reached your ears, Topper took that as a sign to continue, knees bent as he thrust up into you again. You could tell he was close by the way his cock twitched inside of you, and something nagged in the back of your mind about that. When you attempted to pull yourself off of him, he held you tighter.

“Topper,” you gasped, a warning in your tone. “Don’t-.”

Your words were abruptly swallowed when he rolled you both, pinning you beneath him and jerking his hips into yours. The rough and fast pace had you momentarily forgetting your train of thought, weakly pushing against his stomach. You both knew why you didn’t want him to finish inside of you, but he didn’t seem to care about Rafe possibly sinking into you in the early hours of the morning with his best friend’s cum dried along your folds.

You yelped when you came, a roaring sound in your ears as you felt him do the same, filling you up with a grunt. His hips didn’t stop snapping against yours the entire time, fucking you through it and fucking his cum into you. He had you completely caged beneath him, and all you could do was quietly milk his cock, toes curling as you scratched at his back.

When clarity finally hit, the fog lifting, you roughly pushed him away. You didn’t miss his quiet chuckle, and you didn’t spare him a glance as you reached for your oversized t-shirt—his t-shirt.

“You’re such an asshole,” you mumbled, pulling it over your head and slapping his hand away when he reached down to slide his fingers between your sticky folds.

You didn’t spare Topper another glance before hurrying out of his room.

You kept your eyes on Rafe as he flew down the road, the loud music making his truck almost vibrate. He was ignoring you, preoccupied with his conversation with Kelce who was in the passenger seat. It was funny because the only one with a right to be mad was you, recalling the fight you’d had on the beach not even an hour ago.

“She was all over you, and you just stood there and let it happen,” you’d yelled at him, feeling humiliated for the umpteenth time.

“I barely remember what that girl even looks like,” was his reply, pupils blown. “It was nothing, baby.”

You had slapped his hand away when he reached for you, unmoved by the way his countenance darkened. The sounds of the party just down the beach only served to remind you how you felt when you walked up on him with his hand on some girl’s waist, her lips trailing kisses along his neck. You could tell she was drunk, and instead of pushing her away, Rafe just entertained it.

Your eyes had only met for half a second before you were turning away.

You didn’t even know why he chased you down the beach, and that was what you’d told him.

“You’re not sorry…you don’t feel bad, and you know what? You’ll probably do worse two weeks from now, so why are you even here?”

You’d shrugged at him, certain your confusion was evident on your face.

“Look, it was nothing,” he’d spat at you. “Once again, you’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

That had actually made you laugh, tears kissing your eyes.

“If you caught me cozying up to any guy with half the effort that she was with you…you would lose your shit, and you know it,” you’d sneered, watching his jaw tick. “I would love to see the look on your face if I fucked someone else.”

He’d gotten in your face, his finger almost touching your eye.

“I was barely touching her-.”

“That wasn’t the case three months ago,” you threw in his face. “…and I can only imagine what I don’t know about.”

Rafe’s nostrils had flared, and for a split second, you swore you saw some shame pass through his blue gaze. It was gone just as quickly as it came though, anger replacing it instead.

“You wouldn’t dare, you wouldn’t fucking dare,” he bit out, invading your personal space. “I said I was sorry, and you said you forgave me, so don’t think you can use that as an excuse to go fuck some asshole who clearly doesn’t value his life.”

His words had only made you angrier, and you had to bite your tongue to keep your face even, recalling the feel of Topper’s cock inside of you just thirty minutes before Rafe came to pick you both up. You and your boyfriend had stared each other down for a few moments more before he spoke again.

“I’d love to see you do that,” he finally said, shrugging. “I would love to see you try when you can’t even stick to staying broken up with me.”

His words had the desired effect, and you’d felt your face fall.

“Now, you’re trying to convince me you’d ever have the nerve to cheat on me?” he’d wondered, fingers grazing his own chest. “Don’t make me laugh.”

He’d left you with a scoff, and you hadn’t been able to stop your tears from spilling over. All you’d ever tried to do was routinely look for and believe in the best in Rafe, and you couldn’t believe that he threw that in your face like some insult. Maybe it was an insult though…because how many times were you going to let him show you exactly who he was? How many times were you going to let him play in your face?

The day after you’d confronted him about sleeping with some girl—only privy to the information because of none other than Topper—you’d cried yourself to sleep. It was always little things before that, but that incident was what broke you, allowing Topper to slip into your room and wrap his arms around you. It was reminiscent of a time where he used to sneak into your room almost every night, your parents none the wiser to what went on underneath their roof. You’d been eighteen then, Topper twenty, and you both mutually agreed to putting a stop to it.

However, that night, his mind had clearly gone to the same place yours had.

When he kissed you, you’d pulled him closer, and two years after you ended your forbidden dalliance, you resumed it again. For a few hours, you’d forgotten all about Rafe and what he did and just basked in the feel of Topper pushing his cock into you, embarrassingly turned on because of how much you’d missed him. You hadn’t paid any mind to the countless phone calls and texts that were blowing up your phone, no one else but Rafe and his vain attempts to fix what he did.

The day you forgave him, you knew you were making a huge mistake.

Rafe throwing the grace you’d shown him in your face had you stomping to his truck. You’d ignored the feel of eyes on you, knowing it wasn’t Rafe, opting to slide in the backseat without acknowledging him. Kelce—ever the standup guy—just pretended not to notice the tension between you and his friend as he slid into the passenger seat. The moment Rafe’s truck was on the road—music blaring through the vehicle—you’d grabbed Topper’s hand.

He didn’t protest at all when you dragged it across your thigh, pushing his fingers between your legs.

…and that was how you found yourself watching Rafe, keeping your eyes on him not because you actually wanted to, but because you didn’t need him looking over his shoulder. Even if he did, it was dark, but still, you weren’t exactly emotionless as Topper slid his fingers in and out of you. Your lips were parted, and your chest was heaving, and even though all that could really be heard was whatever rap song Rafe put on, you were still pulling your lip between your teeth.

You reached out to grip the door handle when Topper added another finger, his hand soaked in you, and you reached down to place your own hand on top of his. You spread your legs a little more, and you couldn’t stop yourself from lifting your hips a bit. You were thankful for the music, certain that if the truck were quieter, they’d be able to hear the wet sounds of his fingers pushing between your folds.

He pulled them in and out of you for the duration of the ride, just slowly stroking you and teasing you. Every time you started to tighten around his fingers, he’d stop, just letting them sit there long enough for you to come down from a high that quite never happened. Like clockwork, he’d start moving his fingers again, and he only fully pulled them out of you—underwear snapping back into place—when Rafe pulled into his driveway.

He'd sucked them clean by the time Rafe and Kelce opened their doors, and when your boyfriend saw that neither of you were moving, he paused. You crossed your arms over your chest when he glanced at you, throwing him a frown.

“I need to talk to Y/N for a minute,” Topper told him, and Rafe only scoffed.

“Please do,” he mockingly said, tone full of arrogance as he wrongly assumed what the conversation would be about. “…because I didn’t do shit, and I’m tired of your sister blowing things out of proportion.”

That last part was aimed at you, and you only coolly met your boyfriend’s gaze before he slammed the door shut.

“He’s such an asshole,” you mumbled, staring at his back as he walked away. “I’m breaking up with him. For good this time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Topper’s tone was dripping with sarcasm, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Yeah, we both know how much you’ll hate having me all to yourself again.”

The words were barely out of your mouth before you turned towards him, reaching to slip your hand down his pants the moment Rafe was inside of his house. Wrapping your fingers around Topper’s cock, you slowly stroked him, uncaring as to how risky that was. You were just angrier than you ever were at the realization that Rafe didn’t appreciate how gracious you’d been, and how many other girls would’ve dumped him months ago for everything he’d pulled. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if Rafe respected you less for it.

That realization didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would…because you’d long stopped respecting him in return.

You moved to settle in Topper’s lap, facing away from him as he lifted his hips enough to only just pull his pants down. One hand was pulling at your panties, yanking them aside just in time for you to sink down onto his cock. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he filled you up, throbbing inside of your heat. It was almost too easy, courtesy of his fingers and how wet he’d made you.

You lifted yourself slightly, moving over him and hanging onto the headrest of the driver’s seat while Topper lifted his hips too. His grunts and labored pants were a little loud, but that was only because you were alone. Rafe nor Kelce was going to hear anything from all the way out here in a closed vehicle. You clung to the seat harder as you thought about Rafe’s haughty tone and that challenging look in his blue eyes, so certain that you’d never do to him what he did to you.

So certain that you’d never have the guts.

Speaking of, it felt like you could feel Topper deep in your stomach as you rode him. His hands were tight on your waist as he bounced you on top of him, cheeks grazing his thighs with every movement. One of those hands slid around you, reaching under your dress and resting on you, fingers rubbing over your cunt.

“You’re doing so good, babe,” he whispered in the otherwise quiet truck. “Just like that.”

You knew that this couldn’t take long—and Topper knew it too—and feeling you come around him always sent him over the edge, so your eyes rolled when he started circling and dragging his fingers across your clit. He lightly pinched it, making you jerk, and the fact that you were fucking him in Rafe’s own backseat had you coming hard.

The broken moans that tumbled out of your mouth should have embarrassed you, but you were too concerned with sliding yourself up and down his cock, squeezing him tight and making him come too. Topper wrapped an arm around your neck, pulling you back against him as you came together. Knowing that you’d stayed out here long enough, he was gently pushing you off of him the second he started to soften.

You could feel him dripping out of you, and you hurried to put your underwear back in place.

“Did you talk some sense into her?” was the first thing Rafe greeted you with the moment you both made it back inside.

You ignored him, hearing the tone of Topper’s voice as he said Rafe’s name. You knew that it would just be another useless talk of him almost begging Rafe to do better. The older blond never listened to his friend though, and you knew it didn’t twist Topper up too much, always happy to make you feel better when your boyfriend fucked up.

He took advantage of it every time.

Like now, for example.

Your hands clung to the railing of the back porch, head bowed as Topper drove into you from behind. Rafe was asleep in his own room—Kelce asleep in a guest room—and you couldn’t help yourself. You needed him again, sneaking into his designated guest room and begging him to fuck you. He was never one to protest, pressing his lips to yours and pulling you against him while murmuring something along the lines of ‘not in here’.

There were too many people in the Cameron household for him to touch you on the same floor as everyone else.

You kept pushing yourself to your tippy toes, thighs squeezing together with every slow stroke of his cock. Rafe’s t-shirt was pushed up your back, and the light slap of skin against skin reached your ears as well as the wet sound every time he slid between your folds. When he leaned over you, chest pressed to your back, one arm curled around your waist.

“You love this,” he murmured, nipping at your ear. “You love fucking me right under his nose…especially when he really pisses you off.”

If you’d tried to deny it, the way you tightened around him would’ve exposed the truth anyway. You did. Rafe underestimated you, and you loved proving him wrong, especially with his best friend of all people. You moaned, pushing back against him at that. Topper only chuckled, twisting a hand at your roots and pushing you back down over the railing again.

After coming around him twice, the insides of your thighs were embarrassingly sticky, and when Topper eventually stilled against you, pumping you full of his cum, that only made your predicament worse. When he pulled out of you, you reached down to wipe away some of the mess, fighting to catch your breath and reminding yourself that you’d have to make a stop to the bathroom before rejoining Rafe.

Topper was silent the entire ride home, and unlike with Rafe, you had no one but yourself to blame in this situation. Whenever you happened to glance over, you’d catch sight of his clenched jaw, cold blue eyes—so much like Rafe’s—focused on the road. His knuckles were white from the strain of his skin pulled taut over them, a death grip on the wheel of his jeep.

You didn’t speak because there wasn’t much you could say.

So fed up with Rafe’s blatant disrespect—and the pitying looks the odd girl threw you at the party as he danced with some stranger—you hadn’t thought of who else you’d be hurting when you grabbed the nearest guy and pressed your lips to his. You were so far gone with the alcohol, and the satisfaction you’d felt only drove you to close your eyes at the feel of his lips moving against yours.

It had also caused you to momentarily forget about your boyfriend, a misstep that was quickly remedied when you found yourself covered in alcohol.

Several of his friends—Kelce included—had been struggling to hold Rafe back as he tried to make his way to you. His angry shouts could be heard over the music, and you suspected that the bloodthirsty glint in his blue eyes was what drove your poor unsuspecting victim to slip away. Watching him get further out of reach only drove Rafe crazy…until his angry gaze landed on you, as if just remembering your presence.

He was screaming at you, calling you every name in the book, and you’d taken a step back as his friends struggled to keep him from getting to you. Only one stood off to the side, and when you remembered Topper’s presence, you hadn’t been able to keep the sheepish look off of your face. Adopting the older brother role, he’d quickly stomped towards you, yanking your arm as he pulled you along and away from your enraged boyfriend.

“I think its time you call it a night,” he’d evenly said.

That was the last thing he’d said to you, holding you as you stumbled to his car.

When his phone rang again, cutting through the silence in the vehicle, he finally answered it.

“Rafe, she’s drunk,” Topper told him the minute he picked it up. “…and you can’t act like you didn’t have this coming a little.”

You shifted in your seat, thinking to yourself that you’d gotten back at Rafe many times over. You didn’t hear what your boyfriend—possibly ex-boyfriend—said on the other line, but it was loud, and you could pick up on his tone. Topper chuckled to himself, and if you hadn’t been looking at his face, you might’ve thought it was genuine. His frustration with both Rafe and you—mostly you at the moment—was all over his face.

“There’s a whole list of shit you’ve done while drunk or high. You can talk to her tomorrow,” he told his best friend, meeting your gaze. “I’m handling it, so if you come over, I’m telling you now I’m not answering the door.”

You looked out the window at that, swallowing at the venom in both his voice and his gaze.

Your parents weren’t home, out of town for the weekend, and you were never more grateful, certain you’d never been this drunk in your life. Topper was still ignoring you as he helped you inside, and when you stumbled away from him, leaning against the table by the entrance, you gave him an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

Before you could do it, he was dropping to his knees, angrily taking off your shoes. You flinched at the way he threw them across the room, slowly rising and staring you down. The house was quiet—too quiet for comfort—and you licked your lips.

“Topper-.”

“It’s already bad enough seeing you kiss him and be with him and fuck him,” he spat at you, pointing outside. “Even worse when he treats you like shit, and you just won’t leave.”

You frowned at him, tears kissing your eyes.

“I’m…sorry for just hoping he’ll do better…”

“He won’t!”

Topper’s voice bounced off of the walls, and you shrunk away from him as he got in your face.

“How many times does he have to show you that? Why do you still expect better from him, so much so to the point where you’re kissing random guys, now?” he wondered, rearing back away from you with a frown. “Yeah, you wanted to make Rafe angry, but we both know the truth.”

You looked away, pressing your lips together when Topper stepped closer. You could feel his breath on your cheek as he exhaled through his nose, the atmosphere tense.

“Rafe’s mad because you dared to play his own game,” he slowly whispered. “I love you, and we both know it’s me you’re really with, not him, and I’m fucking pissed.”

You swallowed with one look into his eyes, finally finding the strength to face him, and your heart skipped a beat at what you saw there.

Before you could say another word, his lips were on yours, fingers digging into your arms. The sequence of events happened too fast for your drunk brain to catch up with, only gasping when he reached down to press his hand into the small of your back, yanking you closer. If it wasn’t for him holding you, you would’ve tripped over your own feet as he forced you into the living room.

Topper’s teeth nipped at your throat while he pulled at your dress, something Rafe had bought.

“I fucking hate this dress,” he quietly confessed as if reading your mind.

The sound of tearing fabric reached your ears as he forced you to bend back, his arm around you keeping you from collapsing. He kept you against him as he laid you down on the floor, in a hurry to get you at least half naked. His other hand reached behind his head to yank off his shirt, and you only had the sense to hold onto his arms while he kissed along your chest. When his pants were pushed down just enough, he pushed into you with a grunt.

You scratched at his skin at the rough entry, but it took no time for each thrust to become as smooth as they always were whenever he got his hands on you. One of your hands clawed at the rug, and you moaned—loud—when he gripped the hair at the nape of your neck. You suspected that Top had done a line or two tonight, gasping at his uncharacteristically tight grip.

He was fucking you so good that you almost missed the sound of a vehicle in the yard. When you did, your eyes flew open, and you attempted to look around towards the window. You guys were too close to the couch to see over it, and when you whined, pushing against him, Topper only grabbed your hands and pinned them down beside your head.

“Topper, I think…”

You couldn’t get it out, groaning as he curved his hips against yours.

“Fuck him,” he breathed, pounding into you.

The harsh knocks on the door didn’t faze him, and Topper only let one of your hands go to reach down and reach under your thigh. He rested that leg over his shoulder, pushing it towards you as his nose brushed yours, lips parted as he thrust into you. You were dripping around him, teeth sinking into your lip as Rafe knocked on the door again, trying the locked handle. Somewhere, you could hear your phone vibrating…and then Topper’s after a while.

The man on top of you didn’t care, stretching you out, pushing his cock into your tight hole.

“Break up with him, or don’t,” he whispered to you, pressing a kiss to your lips and then your nose. “…but what you pulled tonight is not happening again.”

You drunkenly nodded at him, mewling as he slowed down his thrusts, the sucking sound of his cock plunging into you reaching your ears. You heard your phone vibrate again.

“You know where to find me when he pisses you off.”

[bigtreefest]

Details

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Summary: Ransom can’t help the way he pays such close attention to every detail regarding you

Word count: 1,081

Content/warnings: very sappy Ransom, no dialogue, ransom’s internal monologue?, references to intimacy, kisses, lots of timeline switching? (Flashbacks and returns to present)

A/N: Below is the song which inspired this fic. It’s been a longtime favorite and I think it definitely fits the summer vibes

I guess we can call this a part of my summer celebration! It’s a vacation at a beach house, and probs an equal partnership? Based off a song. Yeah, I make the rules.

Anyway, comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are so appreciated. Thank you for reading!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

Ransom didn’t really have a name for this feeling, despite his vast vocabulary. The main reason was that he had never really felt it before, so how could he be sure? It was definitely beyond the simplicity of the lust he had felt on several occasions. Was it admiration, adoration? Whatever it was, he was sure it went both ways from the crooked smile you gave him as you stretched in the dim morning light.

After a week of your getaway, it was the last morning the two of you were waking up in his family’s coastal home. He loved the way the rays coming through the curtains graced your face, especially today, as you laid tangled in the sheets of the king-sized bed.

The past week had been filled with relaxation and enjoyment each day. Beach picnics, sunbathing, swimming, and…other…enjoyable…things. Those were his favorite. He was desperate to get to that, but not desperate in the moment, where he was worshipping you and your body, and every little thing that he could commit to memory. He never wanted to forget this time; it was simple, with no deadlines, no responsibilities besides each other, although he’d never call you a chore. You were a pleasure. One he was sure he didn’t deserve.

Ransom watched closely as you sat up, the sunshine creating a crown around your head and hair. He couldn’t help but notice you. All he saw was you.

His entire life, Ransom had always noticed the details. That was his strength: little things no one else picked up on, and they were all around him, but honestly, when he was looking at you, he couldn’t tell you anything going on in the background: what he had planned for today, or what he’d done before you woke up the day before.

When you’d gone out to eat at that one restaurant, the one that he thought probably had an ocean view, he couldn’t remember, he wouldn’t be able to recall a single song that had played during dinner.

What he does remember, though, is everything about you that night. The way the sea salt in the air from the long day had added a little extra wave to your hair- tightened the coil, how your skin glowed from the golden hour sunset shining through the glass by the table, the way you got a little tongue-tied after you shared your third glass of wine, which the waiter so rudely interrupted your story to ask if you wanted. No one deserved to stop your beautiful voice from talking, not even Ransom, and especially not the weirdly kind young man pouring the bottle. What was the waiter so nice for, anyway? That quickly left Ransom’s mind, though, attention switching to something much more important. He was completely focused, just not on the usual, external things. There were different details his brain favored these days.

Ransom had visited the coastal home since he was young, playing with the neighbor’s kids while his parents were off doing who knows what. Now, he couldn’t care enough to retain the name of the guy who lives next door. That sort of information was trivial when there was someone else who he would’ve rather had take up every corner of his mind.

That night after dinner, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you in the car, stealing every glance he could without veering off the road. Hundred dollar bills could be falling from the sky and he wouldn’t even notice, which carries its weight when all that Ransom’s ever valued, all that’s ever been steady in his life, is money. That was until you and whatever feeling you were giving him for the first time. It was as if he finally hit the threshold of realization to what’s been creeping up on him this whole time.

Upon your return to the beach house, the two of you laid in bed, cuddled up close as the light from the TV playing late night talk shows danced across the bedroom. You were tucked up into his side, your head on his shoulder as one hand crossed his body and rested on his hip, his one arm doing the same to you as the other tangled in your hair, gently massaging your scalp. He watched as your eyelids fluttered shut, heavy with tiredness of the day and comfort in his hold. Another moment to be savored: your absolute trust in the security of his arms. He smiled to himself as you mumbled in your sleep, studying every little quirk of your lips, every barely intelligible word he could catch, not judging, but committing to memory.

In another life, Ransom would’ve tried to deny that you were any more than just another girl, but there was no use. He was too far gone. Finding ways to surprise you, shower you in gifts, and all the quality time you asked for. Whatever you could desire, really, it was yours, and he had no business withholding from you. His heart wouldn’t allow him.

Ransom was in tune with everything you were doing right now. He pushed aside the thoughts of the week’s earlier memories with you for a second, and cleared everything else nonessential from his mind. He only needed space for what was going on currently. He observed as you scooted closer to him, pushing aside the pillows that were often just so as you slept. Absorbed the way your head tilted to the side at that certain angle when you were leaning in, just about to kiss him. He surely didn’t want to miss it as he closed his eyes and let you fall into him, tongues dancing in an amatory rhythm. So in sync, so naturally that he didn’t care about anything else. Every detail was something he wanted to devote his attention to; memorize and hold onto forever.

Yeah, he should probably get up and make you your coffee. How he loved to see you stir it, just the simplest task, but this felt more pressing. The warmth in his chest from your touch, the way your kisses filled his lungs with light, with life. How your fingertips traced up and down his chest, tucking into the waistband of his boxer briefs. He shuddered at the sensation, at what even your gentlest touch could do to him. Breakfast could wait. You offered enough to feed his soul forever. This feeling? The new wholeness? It was love.

Bonus A/N: Soft!Ran. I only know him. Could you imagine a nice little rainy day in bed, looking out the window at the coast?🥺

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly

[helpimstuckposting]

Part one | part two | part three

Artwork

—

Robin and Steve went up to sing a few more times, though Steve was still emotionally rattled a bit. Give me your phone, Eddie had said, come to the show any day this weekend, he said, just text me and I’ll come out to give you a pass. What the fuck was Steve’s life right now? Once he told Dustin about this, Steve was going to have bragging rights for the rest of their lives, the kid would never have the high ground again. No matter what his ego said.

Eddie was back at the table with his band mates. Jeff and Gareth, Eddie had introduced them. Steve was just a little bit tempted to do a Corroded Coffin song to fuck with Eddie, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to pull off the vocals anyway. The band had refused to go up at all, said they had to rest before their show tomorrow, that causing a commotion wouldn’t be a good idea either. Steve was a little bit sad he wouldn’t get a personal show in such close quarters, that would have really made Dustin jealous. As it was, Steve could probably claim this as the kid’s birthday gift for life. Not that he would.

He was almost more excited just to tell Dustin than he was to go to the show at all. Though, he was very excited, this all still felt like a hallucination. Robin had pinched him multiple times, just to check he wasn’t dreaming. Not that he asked her to, she just did.

He couldn’t tell what Eddie was saying to his band mates, but Steve could still see the wide smile on his face, and for once Steve didn’t choke on his words or skip a breath.

Across the bar, stage lights in his eyes, he could see Eddie throw his head back and laugh - the pull of his skin making Steves mouth water. He was so drawn to Eddie, to the soft edges and eyes that held fireflies, and sure he was nervous around him, who wouldn’t be? But at this point, Steve could either not do anything and he’d never see Eddie again, or he’d shoot his shot and if Eddie rejected him the outcome would be exactly the same; Steve had nothing to lose. If he had to wrap himself just a bit in King Steve in order to finish the song calmly and walk over to Eddie, that was his business. Everyone needed armor now and again, and growing up the center of attention taught Steve exactly how to pull that armor out and engulf him.

After their song, probably the last of the night, Steve marched right up to Eddie’s table with a new-found determination. He had nothing to lose.

“Hey Eddie, can I talk to you?” He asked, lightly brushing his fingers against Eddie’s forearm. He didn’t want to grab and seem too forward or pushy, didn’t want to seem crazed or too much.

“Sure!” Eddie replied, glancing once over to his friends (who shot him mocking looks and little smirks) and leaned heavier into Steve’s touch. He followed Steve over to the dark hallway past the stage, the one leading to the bathrooms. It was a bit dingy, but perfectly quiet and out of the way for what Steve wanted to say.

Steve turned around to face the rockstar, felt closed in with him in this little space. The worst Eddie could do was take back his offer to go to the concert this weekend, that’s it. Steve kept repeating it over and over again in his mind, trying to convince himself he could really do this. Before, in school, Steve had been so cocky and so confident. It didn’t matter that Robin always told him to cool it, to humble himself, he was a Harrington, he was King Steve, all the girls wanted him and all the guys wanted to be him, it was easy.

But then a high school girlfriend, one he was genuinely serious about, had called his love bullshit. She said he wasn’t worth it, that it was all an act and their relationship was another bullshit dance their parents had pushed onto them. He never felt like King Steve after that, not really. He felt the mask and the act and the character he played but he never felt like that person again.

Here, in the back of the bar with the lights dimmed and the music from the stage dampened between the close walls, with Eddie looking at him with so much patience for someone he only met yesterday, he felt like it didn’t matter if he had the kings mask on or not. He could be Steve and that would be okay.

“Steve?” Eddie asked when Steve hadn’t said anything. His fingers trailed lightly against Steve’s forearm, gently gliding into the palm of his hand. Steve clasped onto the soft touch, turning his palm into Eddie’s.

“I was wondering how long you were going to be in town?” Steve said, his inflection pitching up into a question.

“Tuesday we’ve got another show about two hours from here. Going back to our roots, so to speak, and after that we’re back on the road,” he replied. So, four days. They had performances Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, and Steve worked the weekends anyway. He could take Dustin to the show on Friday and then maybe… if Eddie was free, maybe Monday…

“Would you go to dinner with me?” Steve asked, tugging on the hand still held in his own. He pulled Eddie toward him just a step, letting the musician get closer if he wanted to. If he chose to.

Edit took a step closer, then another, the tips of their shoes stopping against one another.

“I’d love to,” he whispered between their shared space. “Does Monday night work for you?”

Steve huffed out a laugh, “Monday is perfect,” he said. “I’ll probably stop by your show tomorrow, if that’s okay?” Steve still wasn’t quite sure he was awake and not hallucinating, that he wasn’t drugged and unconscious in a hospital bed somewhere. He just wanted to double, triple and quadruple check that he was fully awake and welcome to just show up at this concert without a ticket.

“I said any day this weekend, of course you’re allowed to come tomorrow.”

“Well, sorry for kind of not believing this is actually happening after a rockstar I met yesterday said I could just show up to his concert completely unannounced without a ticket and waltz right in like some kind of famous lunatic or something!” Steve shouted a bit more than he intended to, quieting quickly and glancing around to make sure he wasn’t causing a scene.

Coast clear, his eyes darted back to Eddie who was pulling a strand of hair over his lips, and very clearly trying to hold back his laughter. Steve rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe how quickly he was thinking fondly of this rockstar, like he knew him, like was comfortable being around him.

“Sorry, sorry,” Eddie laughed, “I promise it’s allowed. Just text me when you’re outside and you’ll be lead into the venue, okay?”

Steve nodded, tugging on Eddie’s hand just to remember the feeling.

The two groups dispersed shortly after their conversation, Steve and Robin heading back to their apartment while Eddie and his band mates went back to their hotel or bus or wherever musicians on tour stayed while in town. It was late, around 1am, but Steve couldn’t wait to tell Dustin the news. The little twerp would be awake anyway, Steve was certain.

He called the second they got back to the apartment, Dustin picking up on the second ring.

“What’s up, what’s wrong, what happened, are you okay? Is Robin okay?” He answered in a panic.

“What, I can’t call my favorite duckling just to talk?” Steve replied, trying to lighten the mood so Dustin wasn’t worried.

“Duckling? Steve what the fuck, it’s one in the morning!”

He rolled his eyes, though Dustin couldn’t see, “oh what, like you were asleep? Tell Suzie I say hi.”

“Hi, Steve!” a soft voice crackled through the line. Dustin and Suzie always FaceTimed until one of them passed out, talking about nerd things until some ungodly hour. He smirked down the line.

“Yeah, okay, whatever. Why are you calling?”

“You’re gonna want to sit down for this, Buddy, are you sitting? Are you planted firmly on your ass?”

“My ass is firm,” Dustin joked back, a small ‘very firm’ chirped in the background.

“I… did not need to know that, never ever say that to me ever again. I hate you so much.”

Steve could practically hear Dustin rolling his eyes over the speaker. The kid was predictable, Steve could probably guess his every move on the other side of the phone.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m the love of your life, what do you want? Why do I have to be sitting?”

“Robin is the love of my life and you know it,” Steve said. He took a deep breath, preparing to give the best news of Dustin’s life. “So you know that band you’re obsessed with?”

“Do I know the band I’m obsessed with? Yes, Steve, I know Corroded Coffin.”

“Okay, you keep up this little attitude of yours and I won’t tell you I just got tickets for their show tomorrow,” Steve blurted out. He was half expecting Dustin to continue through more arguments about his attitude, completely bypassing what Steve just said. Of course, Dustin was never one to miss the important information.

It was silent on the other end.

Steve pulled the phone away from his ear, waiting a few seconds before the inevitable scream from the other end. He could hear Dustin yelling back and forth between asking Steve questions and relaying the information to Suzie. He wasn’t loud enough to hear any actual words or questions, but there was no way in hell Steve was going to put the phone back to his ear with Dustin going berserk on the line. He didn’t want to ruin his hearing before even stepping foot inside the concert venue, how ironic would that be?

“Dustin!” Steve shouted into the receiver to no avail, “Dustin… Dustin! I swear to god I will answer your questions but you have to ask them one at a time, bud.”

There was a deep breath, a few muffled reassurances from Suzie, and then it was quiet again. Steve hesitantly placed the phone to his ear, waiting for the first question.

“Steve… how the hell did you get tickets? The show was sold out! All the days are. I know, I checked!”

“Okay, so I… didn’t technically get tickets,” Steve cringed.

“… WHAT? YOU-,”

“Dustin! I swear to god, I’m getting us into the concert tomorrow.”

“How, Steven?? HOW are you getting us into a sold out concert tomorrow for the biggest band to perform in Indy in years, the day before opening night?”

“Okay first of all, never call me Steven again. Ever. You got that? Never ever. And second…,” he paused, mulling over his choice of words, “I uh… I know a guy who’s working the venue.”

Steve could only hear Dustin’s breathing over the speaker. He didn’t know if he broke the kid or if he was trying to decide if Steve could be trusted after nine years of friendship. Maybe Dustin thought he was delusional, he wouldn’t be the first person to think that tonight.

“Is this a rich person thing?” Dustin finally asked.

“A rich- Dude, I make $20 an hour, no this isn’t a rich person thing, Jesus Christ,” Steve muttered. A snort like a lawn mower revved from behind Robin’s bedroom door, and Steve contemplated the pros and cons of shaving her head in her sleep for the third time that night.

“Well sorry! Forgive me for not believing you!” Dustin shouted sarcastically, the earlier hysteria bleeding into his words again (though thankfully not as much as before). Steve told Dustin to take another deep breath before continuing.

“He told me to text him when we got there, they’ll let us through. I already told him we’re going tomorrow, he’s prepared and reassured me like three times that he’ll personally make sure we’re let in. Do you want to go or not? I swear to god, kid, I could still rescind the offer.”

“Steve if you take this back I will shove my hand so far up your ass-”

“Oh like you could take me, Henderson, I don’t think-”

“You lost to Jonathan, I think I could do just fine.”

“Sounds like you don’t want to see a concert tomorrow, I think what you mean to say is ‘Oh my god, Steve, this is the best news of my life, you’re the greatest guy ever, I can’t believe I know someone who can get me into a concert for my favorite little rock band’,” He taunted, raising his voice to a pitch that absolutely wasn’t Dustin’s, but he knew it would rial the kid up anyway.

Henderson’s put-upon sigh crackled through the receiver, and Steve couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. Dustin could be exasperated all he wanted, Steve knew this was going to be an amazing experience for him, even if they had the shittiest seats possible.

“They’re metal, Steve. Metal.”

“Yeah, yeah, pick you up at 7!”

“This better not be a trick, or-,” Steve hung up before he got caught in another round of banter. Cutting Dustin off always brought Steve a sick kind of pleasure, the kid could go on and on and on, honestly it was self preservation. He headed to his room to finally sleep, kicking Robin’s door as he went. She would be spared from a buzz cut tonight, he was in a good mood.

—

I’ve started tagging these as ‘the upside downers’ because that’s what I’m naming Stobin’s band, if you want to follow that tag specifically! I also always tag helpimstuckwriting for any of my writing

Tag list:

@weirdandabsurd42 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @snapshotmaestro @youraveragemushroom @stxrcrossed186 @remuslupinisthevoiceofgod @notfrogsunderatrenchcoat @irethsune @m-owo-n @phantomcat94

[spocktheestallion]

why joel was right to save ellie bc i have a lot of opinions and by god i’m gonna share em

so since the show has premiered i’ve seen this debate flare up again and a lot of people saying joel “robbed the world of a cure” when he saved ellie but lets be real, the fireflies were never gonna make that cure.

first off in the original game the hospital and operating room were FILTHY. and yes in the remaster they retconned it to be clean but that just seems silly to me. the fireflies had so little infrastructure that they were wiped out by ONE angry old man in a single night, where are they getting hospital cleaning crews? where are they getting the supplies to properly and i mean PROPERLY sanitize a working OR? more importantly WHO were the medical staff? what were their qualifications? to pull off what they wanted they would’ve needed a team of brilliant scientists specializing in different specific fields and i doubt any of them had been to med school recently. the outbreak was over 20 years old by that point, and medicine is a continually evolving field. those licenses were EXPIRED and even if they had experience during the pandemic it likely would’ve been in field medicine, which is not the same as epidemiology or neuroscience or any of the things they would’ve needed specializing in to get a cure. also the fact that they were saying “we’re gonna make a vaccine!” was another red flag, bc fungal infections aren’t even treated w vaccines. it just goes to show they didn’t know what they were doing. they were just reckless and desperate and ellie would’ve died needlessly.

secondly killing ellie especially right off the bat would make NO sense. what if they find out later on they need a live subject or more samples or whatever? well too late your only subject is dead. why wouldn’t they do blood tests? imaging? or if the cordyceps is only in the brain you can still do a biopsy without killing the person. again, these people didn’t know what they were doing. they were grasping at straws and even if they had gone through with their original plan they probably wouldn’t have been able to synthesize a cure anyway. the sample would’ve expired or been contaminated in the dirty hospital or they would’ve fucked up their sample through ignorance. the whole rushing straight to pulling ellie’s brain out was ridiculous. they would’ve killed a kid needlessly without a second thought.

which brings me to my next point. the fireflies aren’t exactly cut and dry good guys either. i may be reaching w this and i need to rewatch the premiere episode to confirm this but they don’t seem all that picky about their targets and civilians seem to get caught up in them a little too easy. the fireflies aren’t super concerned about human life if it gets in the way of their cause, i mean they were recruiting young kids and giving them weapons just like fedra did. there’s a reason tommy left them high and dry. they’re extremists and they don’t care who they hurt or exploit so long as it serves their cause. they aren’t philanthropists and they FOR SURE would not have been giving out that cure out of the goodness of their hearts. they would’ve gatekept it to themselves and they absolutely would’ve used it as a recruiting tool or political bargaining chip.

but more importantly even in the very unlikely situation they COULD make a successful cure AND mass produce it AND move it cross country which they clearly don’t have the resources for, there’s no way fedra would’ve let them get away with it. their fascist control is all justified in the name of preventing infection, if the disease is no longer a threat that’s a massive blow to fedra’s power. they might’ve been chasing around fireflies for setting off a few car bombs or whatever but if you think fedra isn’t going full extermination mode if they find out the fireflies have a cure you’re kidding yourself. and we’ve clearly established the fireflies would be crushed if they had fedras full attention given that they were pretty much eradicated by one guy in a single night.

and if we’ve learned anything from our own covid pandemic, it’s that if you want to effectively immunize a whole population it needs to be WIDESPREAD. you can’t just treat a few people and call it a day, EVERYONE needs to take the cure or the disease is going to survive and mutate until it can come back in a treatment-resistant variant again and again and again. and after a 20 year outbreak the kind of infrastructure you need to make that happens is gone. it just doesn’t exist anymore. fedra is probably the only group with the level of organization and infrastructure anywhere CLOSE to being able to achieve that kind of feat and i doubt even they could, and even if they could they wouldn’t.

so the fireflies were NEVER gonna be able to make a cure in the first place, they were NEVER gonna be able to mass produce and distribute it, they were NEVER going to be handing it out to anyone they weren’t tight with, and even if they had been well equipped philanthropists who could make a cure and were actually giving it out freely fedra would’ve crushed them immediately.

and i’ve also seen people argue that either way it should’ve been ellie’s choice but i disagree. ellie was a traumatized CHILD with severe survivors guilt. she was not mature enough or in the right headspace to make that kind of decision. JOEL was the closest thing to a legal guardian she had, and it was HIS responsibility to protect her until she was old enough to make decisions like that for herself AND HE DID. a kid should not be allowed to make that choice even if they want to because they’re a KID. also the fireflies weren’t gonna let joel live anyway, i’m pretty sure they were planning to kill him even if he complied.

and ultimately it’s not like joel was considering all this when he made his choice, he saved ellie because he LOVED her. like i’m sure he picked up on some red flags and knew things were sketch and realized the fireflies would probably fail and she’d die for nothing but more than anything he went back bc that was HIS BABY and he wasn’t letting desperate assholes sacrifice her for their cause. “save who you can save” remember? maybe you can’t single handedly change the world or make some miracle cure but you can do what you can for the people you love and maybe that’s enough. maybe you can never make the world go back to the way it was and maybe you SHOULDN’T but you can take it as it is one step at a time and you can do it with the family you’ve made. i think that’s a much better takeaway and i don’t like how the “joel was selfish and did the objectively bad and wrong thing” narrative in tlou2 minimizes that.

[lionlena]

Why I think Fireflies are DUMB and Marlene is cruel

I re-watched episode 9 and this scene caught my attention

Okay, I know Marlene said the patrol didn't know them, but their behavior is still stupid to me. They didn't know it was Joel... Yes, that JOEL (damn dangerous dude). What did they see? The girl and probably her dad in the open space and yet they decided to waste the stun grenade launcher.

I'm assuming this isn't something you can buy on ebay in post-apocalyptic times. So? What should they do? They have the upper hand, they're obscured, they've got guns, and these two can't see them. In addition, Joel is not holding a gun in his hands, but has it slung over his shoulder. It would be enough to fire a warning shot in the air and shout: "Stop! You are surrounded! Put your hands up! Tell me who you are and what you are looking for!"

Is it really that hard? I'm under the impression that it is because fireflies are untrained and unorganized. I saw a similar situation in episode 7. Seriously, didn't any of the fireflies (with more than two brain cells) say, "Hey, this young girl with no experience is supposed to guard the warehouse by herself? Maybe someone older and more experienced should be with her? You know, so she doesn't do anything stupid. Like she don't go to quarantine zone and go get friend? I'm just saying"

I know FEDRA is evil anyway, but the fireflies will never defeat them. Why? Because FEDRA has a structure, a hierarchy and they are organized.

And now Marlene... She is surprised that Joel made it to their base. “We lost half our crew crossing the country. I had five men whose only job was to protect me. I still nearly died. How did you do that?"

My assumptions are that Marlene may have assumed Ellie was already dead. How long has it been since she last saw her? Four months? Half a year? She couldn't be 100% sure that Joel wouldn't abandon Ellie. Don't get me wrong. I love Joel. I love what a great father he is to Ellie, but Marlene didn't know that. To her, Joel was a smuggler who was supposed to smuggle Ellie in exchange for a reward. Any other smuggler would have decided after a week that all the hard work wasn't worth it. So what am I aiming for? I don't think Marlene was prepared for Ellie's arrival. The fireflies and the doctors weren't prepared either. The entire laboratory facilities were probably not prepared (assuming there were any at all some laboratory). And yet Marlene decided to kill Ellie. She didn't want to spend even one day with her friend's daughter. Why? Because she is cruel and blindly believes in something that has no logical or scientific basis. She stubbornly wants to save a world that no longer exists and that will never exist again.

And she's also cruel to Joel. She says, "I owe you a favor. We all are." And yet she denies him the most basic thing, which is goodbye. Anyone who, like me, has lost a loved one without being able to say goodbye to them knows how painful it is.

And she's also cruel to Anna. She promised her that she would take care of the baby, and what she did... 1/ She gave Ellie to FEDRA 2/ She gave Ellie to Joel Again, I love Joel, but to Marlene Joel  is a cruel, brutal, heartless smuggler. 3/ She gave Ellie to a doctor who shouldn't even be called a doctor (Hippocratic Oath says something to someone? "Primum non nocere") Probably this doctor could have been blind, deaf, and paralyzed in his right arm, and Marlene would have agreed to the operation anyway.

She says: Our doctor thinks... Thinks? what the fuck? He should be sure. IN 100%. Because if it's true and Ellie is the only chance to create a cure, then you can't assume anything... YOU HAVE TO BE SURE OF IT

But the peak of her cruelty for me are these words: I do understand. I am the only one who understands...

How dare you? How fucking dare you say that! You don't understand anything!!! You didn't lose your baby. For twenty years you haven't had the same nightmare that one day became true again. You don't know what it's like to be a parent again. You don't know what Ellie's been through. You didn't see her fear, her tears, her laughter. You weren't with her the first time she drove the car, the first time she slept in the woods, the first time she saw a giraffe.

you know nothing jon snow

Ok, and back to fireflies and their stupidity again.

If Ellie was so important. Why was the operating room so poorly protected? At least three soldiers should stand by the doctor and not move even when they hears shots.

But again they showed their disorganization. Why? Perhaps the biggest mistake is not having the right leader. Imagine if someone like Joel was their leader. Someone who always expects the worst. Someone who thinks first and then acts.

That's why fireflies are stupid to me. Because first they act (throw a grenade, carry out an operation... they hand over the children to a smuggler) and only then... wait... No, they don't think. They only act.

And what do they get in return? Angry Joel in killer mode :D So seriously. It wasn't even Joel's fault. The fireflies asked for it.

[thewritersaddictions]

The Wanderers: Negan Smith- Oh, Hell P2

Pairing: Negan Smith x Fem!Reader, Rick grimes & Platonic!Reader, Daryl Dixon & Platonic!Reader

Pov: Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, sex shops (Talk of sex toys), Negan is a warning you can't change my mind, Negan being a dick as usual, violence, physical abuse, sex, reader talking to themselves, fears.

Summary: On a search for things you find a sex shop; coming back to Alexandria you put the items you found amount the other things going to Negan. It leads to an interesting conversation with Negan.

A/n- Firefly-graphics for dividers. I might have gone overboard, but when the thoughts keep coming you just gotta keep writing.

WC- 6.2k

The Walking Dead Master List // The Wanderers Master List

I grabbed more clothes than I think I’d ever held in my entire life. Anything and everything on the racks. The bags that I had leftover were filling up quickly. Daryl watched as I gazed over the kid's clothes. Baby's clothes had been untouched for so long that a thin layer of dust was on all of the, “We should grab some stuff for Judith.” Daryl said looking over at me through the clothes racks. Including everything I had I stuffed so many clothes into the three bags that I wasn’t able to properly close any of them. It would have been easier if I could fold them and then put them in the bag, but Daryl and I knew we didn’t have time to be so OCD about the moment. 

I gave the three bags I had to Daryl. There was a shop that had caught my eye when he first arrived. In big bold pink letters above the shops doors read “Right Spot” A clever name for type of shop it was. A sex shop was in this small little town. Probably not there because anyone in the town wanted it there, but because people were always passing through, and what do you see on the side of the road all of the time when driving through hilltops and country roads. Sex shops.

I thought for a moment. If I walked over here and grabbed anything I might have to explain myself to Daryl, but maybe I wouldn’t. I had to take the chance, and anyways I had heard through the grape vine when we all sat on our knees that fateful night that Negan had many wives. Five or more wives, so maybe if I grabbed something to be helpful and nice to the ladies and to Negan then he wouldn’t be giving me thought unwanted winks, and stares. I was slow to enter the building. The window displays still showed a little bit of lace thrown on plastic frame. 

My gun drawn. No way there was any walkers in this building. When the zombies hit the world it was nearly twelve at night. Not a soul should or would be here. I pushed the door open. When I opened the door, it looked like this building had never been touched. Not a thing was a disrupted on the walls. Racks filled with things that helped out during sex, or just helped out during your own private sessions.

Dildos, lube, vibrators and evrything else you would see in a sex shop was littered all around me. It was hard to take in the smell. It was perfect to the what the world smelt like before the zombies came and devoured half the damn population. I needed to be quick about this or Darly would come looking for me. I ran to the back table. Looking around for one of those black bags. When I found one, i grabbed more then one. I looked out into the aisle that I was now taking for my own. 

I reached for the first thing that I saw. A few dildos all different sizes and skin tones. Anything that would pleasure any women that was alone by herself. If Negan was shit to us then I could only imainge what he was like to his wives, or how he acted in bed. 

I shook my head at the thought of Negan in bed. He probably had that hot dad bod. Not cut but toned perfectly. From there I started to shove vibrators into the bag grabbing a few bottles of lube. My own over shoulder bag, was empty of something for myself. Should I even grab something? ‘Y/n just grab a damn vibrator, your fingers aren’t cutting it anymore.’ The thought ran so fast past my head that I just reached out for whatever I could find. Grabbing them and shoving them into my shoulde bag. I shook my head and tied the back shut before walking out back into the horribly smelly world we now lived in. 

I threw the bags into the back of the sedans back seat. My own over shoulder bag hitting the floorboard. “so , Right spot?” Daryl said as he turned the engine over. I looked over at him, “Don’t even D.” I said looking back onto the long street. The sun was half way through the sky when we started out drive back to Alexandria. 

When we arrived, the gates to Alexandria open letting us in. It was dark outside by now, and not many people where awake beside the guards that sat near the gates. Daryl pulled the car to stop, and without a word spoken between the two of us. We both got out, I grabbed the bags of food, while Daryl grabbed the many bags worth of clothes. We walked in sync to the storage garage. Dropping the bags. I went back to the car to grab the black bag, and my own personal bag. With that I took it all back to my house. 

Negan would be back in just a few days. Five days to gather anything else that we could find. Another group went out the next day. Rick and Michonne stuffed themselves into a car saying goodbye to Carl and Judith. That morning I went over to the storage garage and put all the food up on the metal shelves. Diving everything would be the hopes of what Negan would be asking for. 

As I packed things away in their resepted spots I heard the light walking behind me. Carol was behind me, baby judith on her hip. “Hey Y/n, you and Daryl managed to get rather a large load.” She said, bouncing Judith on her hip. I looked up, “Yeah, we found a town that hadn’t even been ransacked. It was nice.” I said, turning back to sorting the can foods. “We all saw Negan give you that look.” Carol said. Her tone was softer then usual. Like even she didn’t want him to see him the next time he came by Alexandria. 

I hummed along with her. “Everyone?” I asked, if everyone had seen it then that meant that Negan was fine with being a dick infront of everyone on a different level. Different level of dick then before. “Yeah and we are family so we won’t let that dirt bag touch you.” Carol said, walking over towards me. Her hand resting softly on my shoulder. Carol was like the mother of our whole group, the comforting person that all of us came to when we were in need. 

My thoughts took me over when Carol and Judith left. Had everyone seen the seductive way that Negan had winked at me, how he licked his lips. As if I was some great meal that he was just waiting to eat. Was I terrified to see him the next time? No, I wasn’t terrified, I was worried that this would gett out of hand. That Negan was going to have no boundaries and want to see or talk to me. 

Alone. What could possibly happen if we were alone? 

 For the next few days a whole new set of groups went out. Thinking that the more we grabbed the longer that Negan would hopefully leave us alone. I did everything I could to take my mind off Negan and his crew coming to our gates in just a few days. I orginaized the clothes into genders, and I grabbed the baby clothes I got for Judith and took them to where Rick and Michonne were staying. I wasn’t aware just how quiet I had gotten over the past  several days since i talked to Carol. When I got to Ricks. I softly knocked on the door, not sure if Judith was asleep or not. 

Rick answered the door and let me in. “Y/n? Everything alright?” Rick said as I stood in his living room. I shook my head, “yeah I’m fine I just wanted to give you these clothes I grabbed for Judith while Daryl and I went out.” I said, setting the folded clothes on to the couch. “Oh, thank you Y/n, I was just starting to think that we didn’t have anything for Judith to size up into.” Rick said coming over. He scanne through the clothes before looking back over at me. 

“He comes back today.” I said. I was scared, I didn’t know what was going to happen. Personally I was scared for myself, but then the idea that we were even in this situation it was even worse to think about. “Yeah he comes back today.” Rick said, sitting down. “But I think from everyone who went out we got enough ohold him off.” Rick said patting the couch cushion for me to sit down next to him. 

“But what if it’s not enough, Rick?” I asked, looking over him. Rick never looked like he didn’t have a plan. Rick never looked like he was speechless. But right now Rick looked like he wasn’t sure what would happen if Negan wasn’t satfiifed with everything we had grabbed. “I’m not sure Y/m, but whatever happens we’ll all be together.” After that I left Ricks and went back home. 

I tried my hardest not to think about the dreading feeling that was seeping through my body, into my bones. The horrible feeling that was sinking further and further into my mind. By every passing second, and sound the the worry growing within me. 

The gates groaned in horror when Negan showed up. I know that there wasn’t a single way of getting out of seeing Negan today. We would all be forced to be apart of this day. I still had things that I needed to add, hopefully I would be able to put the bag in a box and leave the situation alone. I never wanted to be the center of attention, but it’s hard when the guy that you’re sorta attrated to is just a massive dick. I threw myself off the couch grabbing the black bag. I tied it a million times, I knew that if they really wanted to know what was in the bag that they would tear in to right there.

So, I shoved the black bag into a trashbag. ‘I’d write a note… No don’t write a note’ ‘Writing a note would be like saying that you want him to come back to Alexandria and pick you out of a line up just so he can get you alone in your house’ I wrote the note anyways. 

“Be careful with this bag.” That was all I wrote. If Negan wanted to investigate then he’d have to take it up with everyone. There would be no way for him to know that it was from me, or that it was my own handwriting.It would take Negan and his people a minute to surround us, so I walked fast. My heels hitting the ground quick and hard. I dumped the bag next to a set of other boxes. I wasn’t dressed to be out in the morning air. Cool and breezing past everyone. 

I was standing next to Rick. His demanor changed immediately when he saw Negan. Our leader fell so quickly. Went from looking straight and forward a sense of noblity to him, to looking down at the ground like a puppy that had been scorned for getting into the garbage. I tried to conceal myself. “You should go back inside.” I heard Rick under his breathe. “What? No, I’m not leaving everyone else out here to deal with this dick.” I said shock ripping through my body. 

This day instead of a leather jacket, Negan had on a nice white t-shirt. Lucille hung over his shoulder, and he somehow looked cockier. It was like a waterfall of disgust and cocky attitude that fell down from him and all over Alexandria. I looked over negan and his eyes were on me. I wasn’t wearing the right thing for this. 

My sleep wear. A tight fitting shirt that gave nothing to imagination to my breasts, and a pair of loose fitting sweats the last thing that I had from before this whole thing started. Something that I tried to keep clean. Bare feet on the ground. I really wasn’t meant to be here right now, but there was no backing out now. 

“Oh look at you two.” Negan said pointing to the two of us with Lucille. I had been instinct wrapped my arm around Ricks arm. I was trying to disappear behind him, but two small people can’t hide behind each other. Can they? 

“We got everything..” Rick went to say. Negan was still walking closer and closer to the both of us. “I didn’t ask you talk yet.” Negan said to Rick. I swallowed hard, fear wasn’t the word for what Negan made most of us feel. Negan made most of us feel like out stomachs where going to flip inside out, we all dreaded seeing him, all for our own reasons. 

Some just simply disliked him, some loathed him because he had killed a close and loved one. Some people where apprehensive of who Negan was, aware of just how diabolical he  truely was. 

“What’s got you two so close huh?” He asked. I went to open my mouth but nothing came out. “Oh, I see there’s something going on between the two of you.” He said laughing. Michonne wasn’t far away from the two of us. I looked through my peripheral trying to see what her face looked like. ‘She knew that wasn’t true’ Negan was just a shit starter, the best at the game I was coming to realize. 

I took a large breathe, “Negan, can we get on with business.” I said, unhooking my hand from Rick’s arm. Gasps were heard around Alexandria. Rick tried to grab onto me, but I was already walking towards Negan. “You aren’t here to gossip. Are you?” I asked. Negan laughed, that laugh that would echo through my mind for the rest of my life. “Aren’t you the business women of the fuckin’ year.” He said. “Gossip or supplies Negan.” I said. Looking over at the pile of shit we had gathered for this asshat. 

Whatever was going to happen might as well get it over sooner then later. “Supplies, doll.” It was short and cut throat. “Good, there’s enough food to last at least a few months. Clothes and not just for you and your gang. But for babies and children too.” I said looking up him. He was just gazing down at me. Staring at me, brown eyes boring into me. I licked my lips and returned to everything that was infront of us. “Tools,and other michalleous shit for you too Negan. Take your shit and get out.” Negan arched him brow looking down at me. 

He would never let Rick talk to him like this. Rick would never talk to Negan like this. Negan had broken something in that man when they both left in the trailer that morning after. It was scary to look at either man. One that would do anything for the right reason, and the other that would do anything for his own self gain. “Did old ricky boy send you to do his work.” He asked. 

I just stood there. There was nowhere else to go. Standing next to Negan was just where I had to be at this point. With a nod of his head Negan gaggle of boys came over grabbing boxes and crates worth of shit we had grabbed for him. 

“Six solid days it took for us to grab this must shit you Negan.” I said, as men passed the two of us. Negan looked down at me. He was trying to work out what to do behind him his eye I would tell. Like he didn’t know what to do to me. We were close no doubt. As close had you had to be to have a conversation at a party. It all happened so fast, his hand came up and slapped me cross the face. The breathe was taken out of me, as I cupped my cheek. Tears wre threatening to pour by the time I looked back up to Negan. “A good reminder of who you’re talkin’ to doll.” He said smirking as he walked away. The last of thing had been grabbed, but I didn’t move from my position. I shook my head, following after him. “You know Negan for whatever type of dick you are. You forget that we.” I said pointing towards my group behind me. “We are the ones that make you have a cushy ass life you live. We are your back bone. Slap me all you want but remember that you don’t live if we don’t.” I said turning back around. My cheek hurt like bitch, but I wasn’t turning around until I walked into my house. 

I didn’t give a shit if Negan wasn’t gone. I didn’t care if the gates to Alexandria opened to let Negan out. I didn’t give a god damn shit. I slammed my front door. My cheek was burning, the tears that had threatened to fall had already run down my cheeks. ‘That was stupid idea.’ Was all I could think. It was on repeat in my brain. I went to my bathroom. He had a left a damn bruise. The blood vessels had popped and this wasn’t going away anytime soon. I heard my front door open, but honestly I didn’t care who was at the door. 

Boots clicked on the floor. ‘Rick’. “Are you okay?” He asked. His shoulder leaning up against the doorframe. I turned and look at him. My cheek was bright red. There was no ignoring that Negan had slapped me with all of his might. “He’ll be back next week. Said he doesn’t want any more of that.” Rick said. My eyes, and ears were tired of hearing bullshit. 

“We have a choice. We always have a fuckin’ choice, Rick.” I was startingto get angeir and angier by the second. The fact that we were in this dumb of an issue was driving me up the wall. Rick just stared at me, as I fumbled around under my sink for some sort of first aid kit. “All of this is bull Rick.” I said sloamming the cabinet doors shut. I sat down on the floor. 

I was already drained of all energy for the day. Negan had slapped me infront of everyone to make an example of me. To show that that shit didn’t fly, and honestly I don’t even know why I stood up and starting in the first place. Maybe it was to protect Rick from any more humiliation, maybe I was just tired of not being able to talk to Negan. It could be a thousand and one things. 

All I knew was that I didn’t want to see that man ever again. If I didn’t have to I wasn’t going to. But atlast my frivolous thinking that I would never see that man again were smashed. It wasn’t even a week later and Negan was banging on our gates. I had at point forgotten about the sex shop, and all the sex toys that I had placed in that trashbag. I wanted that memory to float away from me. Like dreams do, where you just simply start to forget the details. 

The banging didn’t stop til someone let him in. It was just early morning, and I was barely awake. When I heard the muffled shouts coming from outside. I tossed and turned in my makeshift bed on the floor. From the past few days I had yet to sleep nicely. My thoughts seeping into my dreams, Negan was everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. When I was awake I wished that I never had to see him again, but when I closed my eyes at night I yearned for the touch of him. Softer this time, but still the touch of him all over me. I shifted in my sleep at one point and heard shouting that was only growing louder and louder by the minute. “I fuckin’ already told you, Rick. I’m going to see her regardless.” It sounded like Negan, but I doubted that he would come back. He had made his rules clear when he left after slapping me. “Negan, please ever you need to talk to Y/n you can do it with me.” I heard Rick plead. The more I listened the more I arose from my sleeplike status. 

I yawned and stretched out between the sheets. “For fuck sake Rick. I’m not gonna say it again.” I heard Negan shout. It’s as if they were right in front of my house. Partially walking in through the doors. “If you don’t go get Y/n right now… We are going to have problems.” I heard Negan say. I heard the knock on my door but stayed still. Hoping that it would all go away. “Y/n.” I heard, rick had let himself in but there was only one pair of hard footsteps walking and getting closer to my room. 

I shut my eye, hoping that it was all just a bad dream. A nightmare that would eventually go away. I hoped it was but that hope was stripped away from me when I felt Rick touch my shoulder. Gently shaking me awake. I fluttered my eyes open. “Y/n, I’m sorry but…” Rick paused, “I need you to come downstairs” I hissed as I turned to hit my face on the carpet. The slap that Negan had given me was still bruised, and red around the corners. 

Negan had marked me his long ago, this was just physical proof that he had some sort of problem with me. I huffed as I got out of the tangle of blankets. My clothes were a little different compared to the clothes I wore the morning Negan came to Alexandria. Sleep shorts, that my ass filled out nicely. A sweatshirt I had found at the start of all of this. Rick started to go down the stairs. “Rick, don’t leave me alone with me,” I said, my voice quieter than normal. For a split second, I saw the face of someone who would do absolutely anything for me or anyone else, then it changed. “I’ll stay outside, you can just holler if you need me.” He said softly before descending the stairs. Disappearing, I got myself up off the floor, pulling my hair out of my face. Before pulling down my shorts, and my sweatshirt.

When I made it down the stairs, I could hear the rhythm of tapping on someones knuckle on my countertop. I turned and expected it to be Rick, but Negan was who I was greeted with. The slap on my face hurt just from looking at him. “Don’t you just take your sweet fuckin’ ti..” His words were cut short. He was staring at me again. I move to be hidden behind my countertop. That would at least cover my exposed thighs. “Your face, doll?” He questioned me. I had no real or true expression on my face. I didn’t feel like playing games. “Why are you here Negan?” I asked ignoring his question. A heavy sigh left Negan and for the first time I saw a different side of him. 

There was something dangerous seeing him like this. How vulnerable he was acting right now. “Did I do that?” he asked. As much as I hated playing games with him, he wasn’t the truth right? “Yeah Negan, now what are you doing in my house?” I asked my fingers drumming along the counter top. “I came.. I came to ask about a bag that was dropped into last weeks pick up.” He said and just like the dick of what Negan was back. “Hm. I don’t know Negan there was a ton of fuckin’ shit there.” I barked back. The stinging in my face was coming back and faster the longer I stared at his devilosly handsome face. He looked more and more tired each time I saw him. Was he just as tired living in this world as I was? 

‘God, Y/n. You just don’t know when to stop talkin. The damn bag you dropped off before you thought nobody was lookin’ nobody was watchin’.” Negan said. “All I fuckin’ want is for you say what I already know.” Negan said. It was smug coming from him, but a demand regardless. A hot demanding demand. “What you wanna know where I got all that shit so you can get more for your stupid wives. I bet you just loved that I grabbed all that shit huh?” I said, was I spitting venom. Calling him out for having other women in his life. 

I was driving myself crazy with my idolization over him. He was just a older hot gentleman that was fuckin’ crazy. I breathed heavy. Rubbing my sweaty palms together. Trying to calm down with Negan in my presence was harder then ever. He was all around me. His collonge was wrapping itself around my thoughts. My straight thoughts were running for a breath of fresh of air. 

“So, you do admit it. You walked into a sex shop grabbed whatever your little heart wanted.” Negan said, I was so in my head I didn’t noticed the shift in the room. I didn’t notice just how close Negan had managed to get to me. Bu when I felt his body behind mine I felt like was going to hell and heaven all at the same time. I tried to get away from his touch, “You aren’t going anywhere doll.” He said his arm coming to trap me between the countertop and his large and stiff body. 

I could feel the growing erection within his pants. Rough jean fabric scratching at my exposed skin. “Negan.” I tired to say, but everything felt like I was floating. A true reality of what dreams felt like. Floating with Negan wrapped all over me. “Did you keep any toys for yourself?” Negan asked as he rutted himself closer and closer to me. I was squashed between the two hard surfaces. “I… I uh.. Yeah.. I kept a few things for myself.” I said, the truth pouring out of my lips without any needed force. 

He turned me in his grasp. My back hitting the countertop edge. Groaning in pain, I was finally so close to him that I could see everything that negan had to give up. Dark brown eyes, flicks of gray that was peppering his bread. Sorrow an dpain behind his large eyes, tired lines that covered his handsome face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Negan said as his fingers grazed softly over the mark on my face. I shut my eyes tightly under the intense gaze. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” I said trying to leave the conversation alone. His pointer finger shifted to my chin forcing me to look back him. Our eyes connected and we just looked at each for a moment. “Y/n, doll it does matter. It’s was simply for the guys behind me and your people. A show of.”Negan said, “power” We said together, “I know that Negan, but what we are doing now?” I questioned him. 

‘Come on sweetheart, you know what we are doing. I’ve been thinking about you for the past few days and waking up this morning to find dildos, vibrators, and all other sort things in a bag from my new favorite stop… You’ve got me growing hard in my jeans princess.” Negan said dipping his head into my neck. 

From there the words no longer mattered, only the physical motion between the two of us. My sweatshirt came flying off, landing on the hardwood floor. Negans mouth was on my skin so fast that I was able to feel his heartbeat against my skin. Wet kisses, hard bites, and scattered hickies littered my skin before Negan was satisfied. My hand gripped and pulled in Negan’s hair. Bucking when Negan would suck harder and then lick the wound like a kitten. 

Everything about him right now was hot, a devil in wolfs clothing was what Negan was and sadly right now it didn’t matter at all. My breasts were in his path, one nipple got teased, a mouth sucking and tugging at the bud. Licking, and blowing all while he was groping and massaging the other, teasing all at the same time. I groaned and moaned in response, pulling harder on his hair. “Fuck, Negan. You’ve got to stop or I’mma cum right here and now..” I groaned out. Negan pulled away, his eyes looking up at me. “Oh no doll. We don’t want that.” Negan teased me. 

“Negan please. I just… I haven’t in such a long time.” I said. Negan picked me up and throw me onto the cold countertop. My ass hitting the countertop slapped agasint the walls. I giggled at sound, but Negan was intent on getting my shorts off. I played a little, wiggling my legs as the fabric fell off of them. He stared me, a funny look on his face. 

Negan was still wearing clothes. I pawed at the fabric. “Please, you can’t be wearing all those clothes.” I whined. He rolled his eyes, a huff. “Please.” I begged him. “Fine, I’ll take off my shirt, I just know you want to see my body.” He said, shucking off his jacket and shirt. Toned frame, that was cut, some slices from after all the zombies. My fingers grazzed over little slices and divots in his skin. His rough hand came to stop mine. ���Come on doll we’ve got more important things to do.” He said winking at me before he was right between my thighs. 

His fingers teased at my pussy. A thin layer of wetness covering them as he teased at my clit. Rubbing soft and czlculated circles around. I moaned out in pleasure as he continued his ministrations. Like he was trying out a new toy. And with every flick on his fingers to every movement of his wole hand he got everything right. Negan had me cumming right there on my counter top in no time. My back hit the cold counter top, and the thoughts of the some random daily looking throug this lot before the whole world went to shit bleeped through my mind. I hoped for something the moment as I came down from my high. I hope for a good and healthy family for on ethat wasn’t going to have to deal with horrible world that it was now, but I also hoped and wished for more moment like this. Moment where all I gave a shit about was amyself and my pleasure. I didn’t want to have to think anymore. I wanted to let go and that was what Negan was doing for me. Regardless of how fucked up it was that he had not just but a few weeks ago killed memebers of our group, he had fingers like a god. I could only imagine just how good his cock must be. 

I floated in my world before a nudge from negan brought me back to reality. The reality of cold marble hitting my back. The reality that I still desperately wanted him to sleeve his cock into me. I wanted to be teased but that could be for later on. I just wanted to be fucked and for right now my fasination with Negan was enough to get me through. 

“Come back to reality doll.” I heard Negan’s voice lull. “Do you still want this cock?” He questioned me. Negan was negan regardless of what he was doing. Still the cocky shit that thought he knew everything and he got everything he wanted. “Yeh, come on Negan don’t tease me just fuck me.” I said as I heard the sound of his zipper, then the shuffle of his jeans. Then finally the fall of his jeans. Bare and bare we stared at each other. His cock was bigger then I imaigned. Pinker then I thought, but regardless I wanted it in me and I wanted it now. 

I wanted to feel the girth of his cock push my pussy wider and wider until I was crying with tears. I wanted to feel his balls slap against my ass, when Negan wasn’t able to control his desire anymore. I wanted anything that he could give to me. I felt the head of his cock nudge at my swollen clit. “Oh, Fuck… Neg.. Just.. just put it in already.” I said trying to latch my legs around his waist to pull him and his cock in. I was stopped, A stern expression passing Negans face. “You went to a sex shop and forgot the most important thing.” He said, a raised brow. I was so foggy brained that I wasn;t able to truly answer or think of an answer for Negan. 

All in one quick solid motion. I received an answer. “Condoms, you fuckin’ forgot condoms doll.” He said grunting in, as his cock came to it hilt. His balls sittign perfectly on my ass, and he hovered over me. Our breathes were fast and shallow. Barely trying to catch each other. I hadn’t felt this full in such a long time, was it wrong that the man that was currently fucking my life up was the man that was currently making me come undone. 

He fucked me hard agasint the marble countertop. Whatever else was going on around us it just didn’t matter. I didn’t care if Rick was sitting outside, listening to me moan out in pleasure. I didn’t care if the whole town heard me moan out Negan’s name in pleasure. I could feel his cock twitch within my pussy. “Fuck Negan, you gonna cum?” I half asked him, looking up at him. He was biting his lip, his fingers coming up from my hips to surround my throat. 

“Just be quiet and let me use you. Be a good girl and take my cock huh?” He grunted, as he continued to fuck me. My body ached as he continued to thrust into my pussy. Hot and deep, the sound of skin slappingtogether could be heard as it echoed off the kitchens walls. I was so in my head that I didn’t hear Negan’s grunts became closer and heavier. He was trying to not cum befroe me. 

‘What a gentlemen. We ca. Cum together.” I suggested through breaths, and gasps as his fingers came to play at my clit. “Look at you, for the first time cooking up a good ole idea.” He said, his fingers teasing at my clit, my pussy clenched around his cock forcing his thurst to be rougher and harder. 

My world went black as I hit my high. Eyes rolled back as I felt his seed hit the back of my womb. Negan wasn’t screaming my name or devoting his love to me. A hard squeeze around my throat was the last thing I felt before Negan was pulling his cock from my pussy. 

He was throwing his clothes back, the cold marble countertop was a wonderful feeling. “You’re just going to leave me on the countertop naked and defendless.” I said, the coolness wrapping around my body like a cool blanket. 

“Oh now you want to be treated like a princess, huh?” Negan said cockly. “I don’t know sir, you were pretty okay with slapping me across the face a few days ago.” I said turning on the countertop. Using my arm as a support. I looked at the man that was dressing in front of me. “You aren’t going to let that go are you?” He said rolling his eyes as he slipped back on his leather jacket. 

“Hmm.” I hummed, “I’ll just keep that dangled over your head, cause I know for sure that I wanna fuck you again.” I said, winking at him. “Yeah I figured a slut like you would dangle my ungentlemenly actions over my head, You just wanna make sure I keep fuckin’ you.” Negan said. A short laugh leaving him before he came over and kissed me hard. His tongue nearly choking me as he fucked my mouth with his tongue. When he pulled away, he had a light layer of blush covering his cheeks and a growing erection. My body was ready for another round, but I knew that the longer we stayed here the longer I would fall for this horribly scary gentle man. 

“Don’t you go falling in love with me now doll?” Negan said, “You better get dressed too because when I walk out those doors I’m sending dear old Rick in.” Negan said. I jumped from my position on the countertop and grabbed my scattered clothes, I had found almost everything, besides my panties so I just slipped on my shorts and sweatshirt before I heard Rick come inside, with that, I saw Negans ass walk away and my panties shoved in his back pocket.

Completed on: 01/19/23

Posted on: 01/20/23

The Wanderers- @yourfavdummy

[justalonelyslytherin]

Blankets - Ari Levinson

Pairing: Ari Levinson x female Reader

Summary: Coming home from his mission Ari wants nothing more than to see his family again. His wishes are fulfilled when they surprise him at the airport.

Warnings: none, fluff

Wordcount: 2.1k

If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don't allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. Please don't steal my work.

A/N: This is part or @flufftober's Flufftober 2022 and my 300 Follower Celebration. The beautiful fall-themed dividers are by the lovely @/firefly-graphics

A bone-deep exhaustion encircled Ari as he stepped through the sliding doors into the arrivals hall. After months of living at the desert shore in Sudan and saving hundreds of thousands of people, he was finally home.

There were still more people looking to leave the borders of their land and more work to do. They all agreed to find another solution to help the ones who still needed it but for now, they had to rest. 

The travel bag slung over his shoulder was light, besides clothes he had barely bought anything with him on the mission. His most precious valuables he wouldn’t have been able to bring anyways. They had stayed safe at home.

Behind him, the rest of his team followed into the hall: Max, Jake, Sam, and Rachel. Sam had his arm slung over Rachel, who was leaning against his side. The two of them had grown closer over the course of the mission. Ari was happy for his friends. 

“We’ll meet up soon. To drink,” Jake said. Laughter erupted between them and they grinned at each other as they nodded in agreement before it was time for Jake and Max to part ways first.

Ari looked at Sam, both of them quiet and rather serious. Much had happened between the two before and during the mission and Ari wasn’t yet sure how his (former) friend now felt toward him after everything that had happened. A hand was held out towards him, Sam prompting him to do the same with a nod. Ari didn’t hesitate to grab Sam’s hand, and as he did he got pulled towards him and enveloped in a hug. It made Ari happy. The thought of losing Sam as a friend after all the things they had gone through together and all the time they had known each other had been upsetting to him.

“We’ll see each other soon,” Rachel said when they broke away. She smiled at Ari as she tugged on Sam’s arm. “And then you’ll introduce me to your girls.” Ari nodded, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips at the thought of them. He couldn’t wait to see them again. Rachel glanced over his shoulder, making Ari crook his head to the side. She started to smirk before her eyes drifted back toward him. Her small nod toward whatever was behind him had him turn around and look too. That was when he saw them. 

The biggest grin broke out on his face. Only for a second did he turn back towards his two friends, both of them now smiling at him and nodding encouragingly. Rachel waved her hand to shoo him away which had Ari chuckle. Without wasting another second he turned, his feet moving on their own as he took big steps toward his happiness.

There stood his girls. His beautiful wife, smiling so brightly towards him as she noticed his approach. She tapped the shoulder of the young girl standing beside her. Ari watched his daughter's head turn first to her mother and then towards him as she followed the pointing finger. Recognition bloomed across her face, her small body not able to turn as fast as she wanted to get toward him.

“Daddy!” she screamed full of enthusiasm and happiness. Like a whirlwind, she zoomed through the hall towards him. Ari’s heart raced with equal happiness, glad to see his family again. As much as he loved his job, as much as he felt a duty to help those people in need, it was incredibly hard for him to leave his own family behind for it. It never became easier to leave them for such long periods of time with minimal to no contact.

His travel bag fell to the floor with a heavy thud as he kneeled down on one knee and opened his arms. Spread wide out to his sides like two giant wings he awaited his perfect little girl to come barreling into his embrace. And barreling she did. It knocked the air out of him as she slammed into his chest with full force but there was no better feeling at that moment. Instantly her small arms slung around his neck, her legs followed quickly around his waist. Ari wasted no time either wrapping her in his arms and embracing his little girl. Softly pressing her against his chest, he placed one of his big hands on her head to press her face against his shoulder too.

“Hi baby girl,” he whispered. His eyes started watering upon feeling the loving and warm presence of her against him. The overwhelming happiness of having her back had him sniffling as he nuzzled his nose against her dark hair. “I missed you so so much.”

Ari could feel his daughter nuzzle against his shoulder too as her hands buried themselves in his shirt the more her grip tightened. 

“I missed you too daddy.” Her little voice, muffled against his neck, had his heart leap in his chest. Gently he pressed a kiss to her dark mop, the same hair she shared with him.

“You have gotten so big,” he told her, tickling her side and making her giggle quietly, “let me see you properly.” Reluctantly she let go of him, letting him put her down on the ground so he could see how tall she had gotten. Quietly rumbling, he nodded to himself. “If you keep growing like that you’ll be as tall as me one day.” That made her giggle and shake her head.

“No?” Ari asked amused. As she held her arms out for him once more, he complied. With ease, he lifted her back into his arms. “Mommy,” he heard her mumble and felt her head turn, and then he followed her pointing finger toward his wife. 

He took his time looking her up and down while he slowly stood up. She was as beautiful as the last time he had seen her, maybe even more so. She always got more beautiful whenever he hadn’t seen her in a while and this time was no exception. Radiating she was, positively glowing he found.

His eyes dropped from her happy face downwards once more. Ari’s heart soared when he recognized the blanket draped around her. Their special blanket. Once upon a time, it had been a normal blanket. One he hadn’t spent much thought on deciding upon, simply that it was soft and warm, as he had hastily bought it for a first date.

A first date that had led to many others, a long and happy relationship, and ultimately marriage with a wonderful family. He still remembered their first date, when he had taken her out on a picnic. There they used the blanket to sit on while they talked for hours until the sun started setting. On the drive back home they had then taken a discourse into the desert where they had watched the stars on the truck bed of Ari’s car. Tucked underneath the blanket for warmth they had snuggled for the first time, the spark between them turning into a flame that would only grow stronger from then on out.

Out of pure coincidence, the blanket had become a companion throughout all their relationship. It had been with them at every important milestone. They had their first date on that blanket, their first kiss, even their first time. Ari had proposed to her during a picnic like their first date had been on the blanket and they even had it with them for their wedding night and honeymoon. Lastly, their daughter had been covered with it as they had brought her home from the hospital.

Seeing his wife now with it wrapped around her arms brought Ari back to all those moments. The memories swirled around him and with them all the emotions he had felt during them. There was an overwhelming love coursing through him, bringing him to the brink of tears once more as he took long strides toward the love of his life.

A heavy but happy sight left him when he finally reached her. “Hello neshama sheli (my soul),” he greeted her with a deep and happy rumble. 

“Hello my love,” she answered him. He could hear the emotions in her voice, see the glimmer of happy tears brimming in her eyes. She sniffled happily as her hand reached out and touched his cheek. Ari leaned into the caress, closing his eyes to delve entirely into the moment and enjoy it. Opening his eyes again, he didn’t look away from his beautiful, beautiful star, even as he set his daughter down beside them.

Ari wrapped his arms around his wife, gently squeezing her to his body as he leaned his forehead against hers. Their noses brushed against each other, their breaths mixing together. He breathed her in, deeply to commit her scent once more to his memory. 

“I love you,” he whispered, hearing her mumble her reciprocation against his lips. Before she could finish the sentence he had pressed his lips against hers. Ari hadn’t kissed her in so long, he couldn’t wait a second longer to feel her soft and oh-so-kissable lips against his. 

It happened too fast for his liking when she pulled back, he was a starved man after all. Starved of the affection of his wife, of the feeling of her body molding against his, of their lips connecting. So when she pulled back he leaned in again, stealing another kiss from her lips and after that one more for luck. If he had been able to, he would have never stopped kissing her.

With their foreheads pressed against one another and their noses touching he glanced down at her. The soft and content smile on her lips had him grinning too. It was then that his eyes flit down further, stumbling over the slit of the blanket that revealed what was further hidden under it. A heavy but happy sigh left his lips seeing the small bundle in her arms, tightly secured under the blanket and only revealed from this close proximity. Ari’s heart swelled even more with a love he didn’t know he could have more of.

The babe’s head was resting against its mother’s chest, snuggled contently into her warm embrace with its eyes closed. Long lashes dusted against rosy cheeks, blissfully ignorant of everything that happened outside of the guarded space in her mother’s arms. Ari choked on a noise, overwhelmed to meet the newest addition to their family. Finally. He had missed so much and waited so long for this moment to happen. The little one had been quite the surprise. It had pained him greatly to have missed the majority of his wife’s pregnancy and the birth of his second child. He'd already committed to the mission, deep in the preparations when his wife had fallen pregnant once more. Now he was simply happy to be here, meeting his little one for the first time. It was an incredible feeling. One of elation and a surge of pure love.

Sniffing once more, Ari wiped one of his big hands over the lower half of his face. The motion of rubbing over his beard was soothing. He watched with eager eyes as his wife carefully lifted the little one out of her arms and into his. Eagerly he took the baby, the small thing nearly drowning amid his big arms. She looked as comfortable and peaceful in his arms as she had been in her mother’s, it warmed his heart once more. Taking her in attentively, he took notice of the small button nose, the blue eyes - his eyes - so big and curiously looking up at him, the cute mouth that pulled into a smile and soon released a giggle.

“She is perfect.” One look and he had been absolutely smitten. Ari glanced back up at his wife who was eyeing him and their little one enamored. With one hand he pulled her to him, his hand splaying on the back of her head, her hair weaved between his fingers and leaned in for another kiss. “I am so proud of you and so thankful that you have given me the greatest gift in the world not once but twice now. You are making me the happiest man.

I love you, light of my life.”

Ari felt her nuzzle against him, her smile against his neck. Raising her head she pressed a kiss of her own onto his lips, making him rumble contently. 

“Welcome home.”

[justagalwhowrites]

I think the one thing that still haunts me about lavender is all the time they wasted and spend with other people when they could’ve been together the entire time. Like it hurts my soul.

I know sometimes people will say things like “they had to suffer to get to where they are now/to realise they need each other” and stuff like that but no, I do not accept it.

They could’ve been together and try to heal together. Try to keep each others broken pieces together. With them, it didn’t even matter if their pieces mixed up because they’re Joel and Doc. They could’ve loved each other and held each other and they could’ve just been together.

And I know Joel has so much trauma with Sarah’s death but the way he treated Doc still gives me a bitter feeling and I don’t know if I ever truly forgot and forgave that, even at the end of lavender.

I have very strong feelings about QZ Joel and personally, I disagree with your friend that QZ Joel wouldn’t have been able to love someone. He was definitely closed off and grieving and terrified of letting people close again. But I think he actually needed someone to fight through his walls and armour and be there for him. Someone he can be open and honest and sad and scared and all these feelings, with.

He’s been the protector all his life. We all know Joel as the protector. But who has ever protected him? Tommy just left to join the fireflies, then joined Jackson and never even bothered to tell Joel he’s okay and safe. With Tess, sure they had each others backs but Joel was definitely the muscles and more of a protector. And obviously Ellie was a kid so she had to be protected.

I think if there was someone in the QZ just really there for him, putting in effort and fighting to get through to him… I think that would’ve been so important to Joel. I don’t think he was some emotionless asshole some people say he was. (And I don’t mean you or in Lavender! But many people see him as this hard killing machine lol) He’s been through so much shit and always did so much for other people. I think he really needed someone to do things for him for once. And I think that person would’ve meant the world to him and yes, he would’ve been absolutely terrified of losing them. I’m sure there would’ve been moments where he just wants to run but I do think he would’ve been able to love. Joel loves so deeply and sincerely, I don’t think he could’ve stopped himself with the right person….

Anyway, thanks for coming to my ted talk. Lavender still haunts me deeply apparently lmao HAVE FUN with you friend!!! 💕💕💕

Hi Bestie!!!

OK so I love these thoughts because YES I feel like Lavender, while it ends happily, is a tragic story. They lost so much time and they were in so much pain.

That being said… I’m not sure it really could have gone any other way for Joel, for a few reasons.

Joel is, I think, the opposite of an unfeeling person. I think he’s a person who feels very, very deeply and that’s what makes it unsafe. Post-outbreak Joel is defined by loss and his inability to live with loss. Everything he does, to a certain extent I think, he does to not suffer that again. He does literally anything to protect Tommy. He keeps some kind of distance from Tess. In Lavender, he forced the one person who makes him feel deeply as far away as he can manage to keep her. To his traumatized mind, loving someone too much is a death sentence. He loved Sarah, she died, he almost died, too. His animalistic hind brain sees love as a threat, the same way it does a gun or a knife. Feeling that way activates his fight or flight because his survival brain goes FEELING THIS WAY LEADS TO DEATH. In Lavender, he fights this feeling for months but he’s living in a constant state of deep, intense fear and panic. Doc tries desperately to help him integrate into the QZ and help him process his feelings and tries to take care of him but his trauma brain won’t let her.

The other core issue is I don’t think he really can recover while in the QZ. Living under military occupation is too close to the source of his trauma. There are armed soldiers everywhere, he sometimes needs to burn children’s bodies - children who were killed by soldiers (even though they were infected at the time.) There are nothing but constant reminders that the thing that damn near killed him is still a threat, he cannot put himself at risk. It’s no coincidence that he can’t really let himself love Doc until they’re outside the QZ and he has some semblance of control, that’s the first time he’s been outside that state of panic since Sarah died.

I guess it’s less that I feel like Joel couldn’t love someone - he loved Doc pretty much since the day he met her, he never stopped, even when he was at his coldest and leaving her - but that his trauma response would be actively trying to keep him from doing it. Being with someone, embracing how he feels about someone, would be like constantly standing in the middle of a wildfire and not trying to escape it. I’m not sure anyone can really survive that for a few months let alone a decade and a half, even someone who loves as strong as Joel.

Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts!!! I love hearing things like this and I love that my fic made you think and consider this and I love the character of Joel so much. He’s so rich and dynamic and exploring things like trauma through him is so rewarding.

Thank you for reading! Love you!!

[arotechno]

O. basilicum, part ii

“Someone did this to him.”

“Now, we don’t know that—”

“You said it yourself! Those wounds don’t look accidental.”

“What would you have me do, Hank? Send a search party out to get revenge? Would that solve anything?”

Basil tightened his fists in the quilted blanket draped across his lap. Voices continued arguing in hushed tones from the other room, where they probably thought Basil couldn’t hear them.

It had been a strange day. For hours, he’d phased in and out of consciousness, experiencing life in a terrifying blur as people moved about, frantic, periodically spooning broth into his mouth and wiping his face with a cool cloth. Waking up at last to find that he had not, in fact, died alone in the woods as he’d expected to, had brought on quite a mixed bag of emotions. First, there had been relief at living to see another day. That much was obvious. Then came confusion—namely, of course, at his miraculous survival, and only secondarily at the fact that he had absolutely no idea where he was or who he was with. And finally, there had been the abject terror, invading his body with such abrupt intensity that Basil briefly thought himself dying after all. They’d set the broken bone in his leg, and he’d screamed himself raw the entire time. After that, he’d been given something warm and herbal to drink, and that had made the pain dull enough that Basil was able to regain some semblance of control over his mind.

For now, the terror had faded. The wall of grief had yet to catch up to him, but it was there, looming. For the moment, Basil only felt numb.

“Hell, Frida, I don’t know. It just makes me sick.”

“All we can do is keep him safe until he heals. After that, it’s up to him.”

Basil looked down at his hands. They were trembling.

“Hey, kid, don’t worry about them,” a voice piped up next to him. Basil jumped and tangled his hands in the quilt again. He’d nearly forgotten the woman had been sitting there—she and the man in the other room had been the ones to rescue him. He knew this, and even still—

The woman sighed. “I’m not gonna hurt you. You’re one of us, hear?”

Basil said nothing.

“I’m Ann. Do you want to tell me your name?”

Basil considered it. The words, however, wouldn’t come. Even if he’d wanted to, Basil had screamed so much he wasn’t sure he could speak at all anymore.

Ann was a woman in perhaps her mid-30s, with curly brown hair she kept in a long braid. She wore sturdy boots and work clothes with a hooded cloak and a leather belt. A bow and arrow hung on the back of the rickety wooden chair she was perched in at Basil’s bedside, one foot up over her knee and arms crossed over her chest. Ann didn’t look much like she really wanted to be there, playing babysitter for the healer woman, but Basil didn’t really want to be there either, so he supposed he couldn’t blame her.

“Anyway, don’t worry about those two,” Ann continued. “Hank gets real up in arms when something happens to one of our own, and Frida’s far too much of a principled pacifist to let him do anything about it. Important thing is that no one in this town is going to let anybody hurt you again.”

Basil wet his lips with his tongue. “One of our own?” he croaked.

Ann seemed briefly surprised, blinking back at him. It was the first coherent thing out of his mouth since he’d arrived, so again, he couldn’t really fault her for it.

“You haven’t pieced that one together? Kid, Hank felt your pulse when we found you in the woods. You don’t have one, and neither do we.”

A warm feeling settled over Basil. Two years ago, he and Ace had shared a similar secret among the fireflies one summer evening, and Basil had tackled his best friend in a hug and wept. Now, all he could do was sit there, stupefied. How ironic, that he should be violently cast out of one place for who he was, only to be given shelter in another for just the same. How fortuitous that Hank and Ann should have found him, and that he’d run this way at all. And how tragic it was that only he should be so lucky, while others, like Ace, were left behind.

There was nothing he could do about that now.

The door opened and Hank and Frida reentered, faces passive. They didn’t want Basil to know they’d been speaking about him; he was, unfortunately, smarter than they realized.

Hank was a tall man with brown skin and kind eyes, and he regarded Basil with a reassuring smile as he collected his things.

“We’d best head out, Ann,” he said to his companion. “We’re burning daylight.”

“Thank you for watching the boy,” Frida said. She was a short, matronly woman, graying at the temples, with a voice like clear bells.

“Sure, sure.” Ann waved a hand about. “We’re like two peas in a pod now, right, kid?”

Basil shied back and said nothing, holding tight to his blanket, but he couldn’t help but crack the smallest of smiles. It was comforting to know there were more people like him in the world than he thought, even if the scars he now bore made it difficult to trust them. Perhaps, with time, he could learn.

Ann and Hank departed, leaving Basil alone in the tiny clinic room with Frida. The fear threatened to overtake him again, but Frida made a point of sitting out of arm’s reach.

“Do you need to take something more for the pain?” she asked.

Basil shook his head. His knee still throbbed, but with it carefully wrapped and his leg in a splint, it wasn’t so bad now if he didn’t move. It was nothing compared to the pain of running on it for days at a time.

“Good,” Frida said. “I want to take a better look at you. May I?”

With great trepidation, Basil allowed himself a nod. Frida scooted her chair a bit closer, so she could examine the line of bruises that snaked its way up his entire left side. Basil tolerated the attention, but when the woman’s hand grazed the side of his ribcage, he jerked away and a guttural cry clawed its way out of his throat. Frida retracted her hand and hushed him gently.

“It’s okay,” she said softly. “I won’t hurt you, but I need to check for breaks. If it’s too much, you can tell me, alright?”

Trembling, Basil nodded once more. He steeled himself for the pain, trying and failing not to imagine the sensation of every kick, every punch, every blunt force blow to his small frame, but it never came. Frida prodded gently at Basil’s ribs, and though his bruises stung, she did not hurt him.

Basil let out a shaky breath. Frida paused her ministrations and drew Basil’s blankets around his shoulders. She held his gaze, eyes warm but keen.

“Did someone give you those bruises?” she asked.

“They were afraid of me,” Basil whispered, clutching the edges of the blanket. “But I’m not a monster.”

“No, you’re not a monster. What’s your name, dear?”

“It’s Basil.”

“Basil.” Frida smiled. “Well, you’re safe here. This is a town called Verdigris—a Heartless commune of sorts, really. Everyone here has their own stories of how they ended up here. We’ll have to ask around and get you some new clothes. And some crutches, too, so you can get around on your own. You’ll probably want a bath, as well, but that can wait until you’re feeling a bit better.”

Basil didn’t know what to say. He felt wrung out, like an old dishcloth. He’d spent all his young life living with this horrible secret, hiding from himself and from who he was. The moment that secret had come to light had ruined his life. Now, he found himself in a place where it didn’t matter at all. It didn’t even seem real. It felt like someone had pulled him straight out of the oven and dunked him in cold water, but for some reason he kept asking to go back to the coals.

Thankfully, Frida didn’t ask him to speak. She merely excused herself for a few moments and returned with a steaming bowl set on a wooden tray, which she placed down in front of Basil.

“Go ahead and eat up, Basil,” she said. “You need your strength.”

Basil peered into the bowl. It was filled with hot soup, little chunks of vegetables and grains floating in a warm broth with tender bits of meat. Just like his mother used to make. All at once, Basil crashed headfirst into the wall of grief that had chased him all the way here.

He’d likely never see his parents again. He’d never spend another summer afternoon out in the meadow picking wildflowers in the hot sun, or eating fresh raspberries under the shade of a willow tree, their ripe flesh bursting between his teeth like a bubble, sweet juices coating his tongue. He’d never build a snow fort with Ace again, telling secrets well into the night until their parents called them home. All too easily, it had all become part of the past. Just like that.

What would happen, if he returned to Swallow’s Point? Would he be attacked again? Killed? Arrested, thrown in some dark cellar, studied like a bug? Or would he be left alone, having served his penance for the crime of being born different? What would happen to his parents?

What had already happened to Ace?

If he’d kept his guard up, if he’d been more careful, maybe he’d be with them still. Had he never been discovered, life could have continued on in blissful perpetuity. Basil knew he’d never truly been the monster they all thought him to be; he’d only ever been a boy, doing his best. But it hadn’t mattered.

Overcome with guilt and sorrow, Basil hunched over, drawing inward on himself like a wilting flower, and bawled.

[coffeewhiskeyandotherdarkthings]

Keep You (Until the End Prequel)

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

Series Summary: A single afternoon changes everything. A reflective on the ten years before leaving the Boston QZ.

Series Warnings: smut (m/f pairing, oral, intercourse, dom/sub undertones, a pinch of Daddy kink) angst, suicidal ideation, grief, mentions of child loss, cannon typical violence, infidelity, no use of Y/N, reader has nickname (of sorts), no explicit body descriptions

This is not an exhaustive list but should serve as an indication of the general content.

Word Count: 11.4K (oops)

One Two Three Four

A/N: This is the conclusion of the prequel. Series debut of Until the End is scheduled for 09/01/23.

The next time I saved Joel Miller’s life was… well.

It wasn’t obvious, to either of us, until years later.

It was a little over a year since Tommy had left Boston and headed west with the Fireflies. Two, sometimes three times a month, he’d get a message to Joel, just a few words to let him know he was alive, doing well—safe. Every now and then he’d ask about me or Tess, the interest purely for form. If Tess took offense to the dismissal, she didn’t make her feelings known. If I’d taken offense—which I didn’t—I wouldn’t have had much of a leg to stand on.

Not that it mattered, since Joel was offended enough for all of us.

“It’s rude, is what I’m saying.” He scowled at the ceiling, one arm thrown over his head, the other curled around my waist, keeping me anchored against him. “Our mama raised us better than that.”

“Joel.” I stretched up until I was able to press my lips to his chin. “I don’t think either of us are in a position to complain about someone’s lack of manners.”

He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath before lapsing into silence, absentmindedly tapping his fingers against the scar I carried from the Firefly explosion. I laid my head on his chest, the sound of his steady breathing lulling me toward sleep. I was almost there when he said, “Bill wants to know if you’d be willing to make a house call.”

I sat up, or tried to, as Joel instinctively tightened his grip when I moved. Twisting my neck until I was able to look up at him, I said, “A house call? Bill wants a doctor?”

“Not for him. For Frank.”

“Ah.” That made more sense. “Did he say why?”

“No.” Joel frowned, his gaze still locked on the ceiling. “I know the last time we were there, Frank looked a little frail. Mentioned he hadn’t been able to run like he used to—legs kept trying to give out on him. Saw him drop a few things, too, like he couldn’t get a good grip.”

“Anything else?” Information that vague wouldn’t even come close to helping narrow down a diagnosis but it was better than going into the situation blind. When Joel shook his head, I sighed and laid my head back on his chest. “Okay. I’ve got people coming in for the next few days but I should be able to clear my schedule for a week or so after that.”

“That’s fine. Need some time to pull together supplies anyway. Go over business with Tess before we leave.”

“She’s not coming with us?”

“No.” He shifted and a moment later I felt his lips brush the top of my head. “I think we deserve a little time for ourselves.”

I’d only been out of the QZ three times since Tommy had left, primarily because the clinic kept me too busy to be gone for weeks at a time. The other, unspoken reason was an attempt at fairness, a laughable one but one nonetheless. When they were outside the QZ, Tess could pretend I didn’t exist and that things between her and Joel were exactly the same as they’d been almost eight years earlier. Joel still lived in the apartment next door, still slept in the same bed with her, still cared for her and about her.

But I was right next door.

And I wasn’t leaving.

And if for some reason I did, Tess knew I wouldn’t be leaving alone.

So she made no comment about the amount of time he spent with me and I made no complaint about being confined to the QZ. A laughable attempt at fairness.

I spent the next three days working almost nonstop in an effort to clear my schedule, taking patients well past my normal operating hours, sacrificing precious pills to bribe the FEDRA agents who patrolled the surrounding blocks so curfew wouldn’t be an issue. When I closed the door on the final patient, sending them off to nurse a vague illness they’d described as “feeling poorly” with an herbal tea, Joel looked up from the paperwork strewn across the table and frowned. “You should have booted him out the second he walked in. He was only here for drugs.”

“Then he was an idiot because it’s well known you have to be on the verge of dying before I’ll even think about giving you anything.” I rolled my shoulders as I meticulously set every lock, doing my best to ignore the fist-sized knot which had taken up residence between my shoulder blades at some point in the last few hours. “Besides, I’m low on the good stuff, at least until the next supply run.”

“Thought you just stocked up last month.”

“And you know FEDRA only deals in three, possibly four, types of currency, depending on the agent.” I turned to find him leaning against the archway separating the kitchen from the general living space, studying me with his arms crossed. Rolling my shoulders again, I sighed, dragging one hand through my hair. “The only one I had on hand and was willing to use was the good stuff.”

“Hmm.” He pushed off the doorframe and ambled toward the sofa, dropping down on it with a thud which made me wince and wonder if he’d finally broken it. Draping one arm across the back, he crooked a finger at me with his free hand. “C’me here.”

“I should straighten up the exam room.” And yet, I half walked, half stumbled across the room, toeing off my well-worn Converse before stretching out on the sofa, pillowing my head on his thigh. “What time are we leaving?”

“Sunrise is around seven. We leave here around four, we should be able to blend in with the late crews headed home, get out of the QZ no later than five-thirty.” He trailed a single finger up my back, caressing each vertebrae. “Wait for the sun to come up. Take the route through the hotel—it was clear last time Tess and I went through. Should be able to make it to Lincoln by one, two at the latest.” When he reached the knot, he pressed his finger down hard, murmuring under his breath when I whined and tried to squirm away. “Thought so. Pushed yourself too hard, baby.”

“Had to.” I whined again when he switched from a single finger to the heel of his palm, applying more pressure. “Ouch, Joel.”

“Poor baby.” Even without looking, I knew he was fighting a smile. “Want me to stop?”

Before I could answer, he circled his palm around the knot, releasing the first bit of tightness, and I moaned at the nearly carnal pleasure.

He chuckled, the low, smoky sound causing other muscles to tighten. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’.” He continued working on the knot, murmuring soft praise as I gradually relaxed, all but sinking into the sofa, head lolling on his thigh as my mind emptied of everything except him. After he soothed the final muscle into submission, he stroked his hand down my back once before reversing course, cupping the nape of my neck, rubbing his thumb over where my pulse beat thick and sluggish. “Sweet girl. You work too hard.”

“Hmm.” I pressed my lips to his denim-covered knee, the only part of him I could reach. I sighed when he helped me turn over, brushing the hair out of my face until we could see each other clearly. When he pressed his thumb to my chin, I offered him a lazy smile. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself.” He chuckled again, brushing his thumb over my lower lip. “You’re beautiful. You know that, right?” He dug his nail into my lip when I started to shake my head, frowning at me. “You are. But when you’re like this… soft… pliable… blissed out….” He punctuated each bit of praise with a stroke of his finger—my cheekbone, the bridge of my nose, the line of my jaw, swallowing hard when I sighed again, unintentionally arching my hips. “The Lord himself would be tempted for a taste of you.”

“Joel.” I tried to push up to my elbows, grumbling when he tightened his grip, an unspoken signal to not move. “Please?”

“Please what, darlin’?” He slid the very tip of his thumb between my lips, too shallow for me to suckle on, and I let my eyes flutter shut. “You’re so pretty when you use your words for me.”

Which wouldn’t have been a problem if his hands hadn’t already coaxed so many endorphins out of me that stringing together a complete sentence seemed like an insurmountable task. I’d told him once he was good with his hands and he’d proven it time and time again. It took only a single touch to reduce me to trembling and little more than that to empty my mind of anything except him.

So trying to put into words what I wanted was… difficult.

“Suppose it’s not fair, asking you to do something like that when I know you don’t have a single thought in that pretty head of yours.” He slipped his thumb further into my mouth and I curled my tongue around it, humming low in contentment at the first taste of him. I heard the faint rustle of fabric as he shifted above me and a moment later felt his free hand comb through my hair, spreading the loose strands over his thighs. “Still, you know the rules, sugar.”  He wound my hair around his hand, tugging once before pulling his thumb free, chuckling when I whimpered in obvious disappointment. “So—please what?”

“Please.” I moved to sit up again and this time he let me, maneuvering me until I was straddling one thigh, his palm resting heavy against the small of my back, holding me in place. Leaning forward, I nuzzled the curve of his neck, breathing deep until the air in my lungs was filled with the scent of him. “Take care of me.”

Take care of me. Let me keep you. In the morning. Mine. We had our own language, Joel and I, our own way of acknowledging the emotions we were still too superstitious to name, a language which confused people even as they accepted that our relationship was more than what we showed the world. In much the same way we’d kept our griefs between us, we kept the depth of our feelings for us and us alone—one thing the world couldn’t have, couldn’t touch.

We’d already given the world enough.

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout takin’ care of ya all day.” His accent, always so soft around the edges, grew even softer when we moved into this dynamic, not quite a drawl but close and I sighed and cuddled closer, my eyelids starting to droop. “But you’re tired and we got an early start and a long walk tomorrow.” He tugged on my hair until I lifted my head and met his gaze, deep brown irises almost obscured by his dilated pupils. “Don’t want you hurtin’ tomorrow, sweet girl.”

“I won’t complain. Promise.” I peppered his chin with soft kisses, brushed my lips over the tip of his nose, smiling when he scrunched it up. “Please?”

“No.” His eyes might have been mournful but his tone was firm and I shivered in response. Unwinding his hand from my hair, he cupped my chin, tutting when I pouted. “Now, don’t be that way, darlin’ or I’mma have to send you off to bed without your reward.” He tapped his thumb on my lower lip, frowning when I continued to pout. “Y’know I only want what’s best for ya.” After another moment, I relented, pulling my lip in, and he stroked his thumb over my skin. “There’s my good girl.”

“What—.” I cut off my own question with a massive yawn, both of us wincing as my jaw cracked. Blinking rapidly, I said, “Sorry.”

“Told ya you were tired.” He pushed to his feet, holding me flush against him until I was mostly steady, both of us choosing to ignore the way I swayed like a sapling in a light breeze. “Come’n. Off to bed.”

“But you said—.”

“As soon as you’re in bed.” He flashed me a grin which would have made my knees weak if they weren’t already. “Promise, darlin’. I’mma take care of you.”

“But—.”

“You’re breakin’ my heart, sweet girl.” He walked me backward toward the bedroom, his forehead creasing as he frowned even though his pupils were still wide with lust. “I’mma give you one last chance to settle down and be good—shouldn’t, since we both know you know better but I’m gonna be patient with you since I know you’re tired.” He stopped when my knees hit the edge of the mattress, holding me steady with one hand while stripping my clothes off with the other, letting them pile at our feet. He gave me a gentle push, allowing me to scoot up the bed before crawling after me. Leaning over and caging me in with his body, he brushed his lips over mine. “Now, you close your eyes, darling, and dream happy dreams.”

I snorted out a laugh only to squeal when he nipped at the curve of my breast. He gripped my hip with one hand, pinning me to the mattress when I tried to squirm away. Scowling up at me through his lashes, he said, “Kay.”

I immediately stilled, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes. Just that, the use of my not-real name, was enough to let me know Joel had had enough of my attitude. When we were alone, he referred to me by one endearment or another. My not-real name was reserved for public, for serious conversations, and for the rare times when he believed I was being a brat and wasn’t in the mood to indulge me.

This, apparently, was one of those times.

“Good girl.” He pressed a chaste kiss to my sternum before nuzzling the inside curve of one breast. “Happy dreams, darling. “

I concentrated on my breathing as he trailed kisses down my torso, inhaling for three beats, holding for two, and exhaling for three. Even when he swirled his tongue over my scar, which we’d both been surprised to learn was sensitive in the best way, I continued taking steady breaths. He chuckled against my hip, his beard rasping over my skin. “You’re supposed to be relaxing, sugar. I can hear you thinking all the way down here.”

“Just my breathing.” I was surprised to find my voice was already thick with sleep, my limbs heavy with it. When he settled between my thighs, shifting one of my legs to rest on his shoulder, I sighed and snuggled deeper into the mattress. “Helps me relax.”

“Got somethin’ little better in mind.” He pressed a light kiss to my clit, humming low in his throat before easing his tongue between my folds, dragging it down and back up before circling my clit, sucking gently. I lifted one hand, threading my fingers through his hair but making no attempt to direct his attentions. Releasing the sensitive bundle of nerves with a soft popping sound, he murmured, “Don’t pay me no mind, baby. You go on to sleep now.”

“Not tired.” An absolute lie, especially given the fact I was all but slurring my words, but one Joel chose not to call me on. “Want you.”

“You got me, sweet girl.” Another soft kiss to my clit and I felt the bed shift underneath me as he adjusted his position, sliding one hand under me to cup my ass while the other traced random circles on my inner thigh. “Sleep.”

I was out before he coaxed the first orgasm from me.

I wouldn’t say it was the best sleep of my life. But it was absolutely in the top five.

The next morning, we were up and out the door before the sun rose. Even so early, the streets were relatively busy, making it easy to blend in and avoid FEDRA. The walk through the ruins of Boston was uneventful even it did highlight one or two areas for concern. For instance, the hotel—which was far and away the safest route through—was showing its age, with small sections of the roof caving in and others clearly being supported by hopes and prayers. The streets themselves were still largely free of infected but whereas in the past they’d stayed deep within buildings, the massive, twisted collection of bodies was all but spilling on to the sidewalk in certain areas. I waited until we were clear of the city center and on the actual road toward Lincoln before speaking. “You’re going to have to find a new route through the city soon.”

“Probably.” If Joel was worried, it didn’t show. If anything, he seemed more relaxed, more at ease, than I’d seen in quite a while. Taking my hand and lacing our fingers together, he rubbed his thumb over my knuckles. “Making good time. Should get to Lincon by noon.” My stomach let out an involuntary rumble and he chuckled. “Feel the same way, darlin’. Wonder what Bill has on the menu.”

“Does it matter?” I laughed when he immediately shook his head, lifting our hands and spinning me under his arm in some long forgotten dance move. When I stumbled on a rock, he pulled me flush against him, steadying me for a moment only to spin me again. “Joel!”

“What do you miss from before?” He paused, then rushed to clarify. “Not a person but a thing. Or something you used to do.”

“Huh.” I blinked, nonplussed. “I don’t know. After the outbreak, I just… everything from before seemed almost like a dream or like it happened to somebody else.” I let him twirl me one, two, three more times before planting my feet, looking up at him. “Reading outside.” He lifted one brow in question and I laughed. “Sometimes, when Cam was in daycare and Daniel was at school or the hospital, I’d take my books and notes and go study in the park near our house. Maybe bring some snacks, have a little picnic.” I started walking backward, pulling on his hand until he began to follow me. “Not really something you can do these days.”

Joel snorted out a laugh. “No, not really.”

“What about you?” I studied him, the early morning sun glinting off the grey in his stubble. When he didn’t immediately answer, I drew up short, frowning up at him and tugging his hand. “Joel?”

“Sundresses.”

I stared at him. “I’m confused.”

“Temps start hitting in the eighties and nineties in Texas before the end of April and every woman between the ages of twenty and fifty trades her jeans and boots in for sundresses and sandals.” He leaned in and kissed the tip of my nose. “And I might have been too old for half and too young for the other half but it didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy the view. Respectfully, of course.”

“Of course.” I let him turn me forward again, walking in silence for a few minutes. I cleared my throat but my voice was still thin and about an octave too high when I spoke again, doing my best to fight back a fit of giggles. “Sundresses?”

“I’m a simple man, darlin’.” He pulled me close and brushed his lips over my hair. “Only ever wanted a good and simple life.”

We reached Lincoln about half past noon then waited another ten minutes or so for Bill to come clear us through the gate, even though we both had the security code. The older man might have mellowed some through the years, at least according to Joel and Tess, but he was still prone to shooting first and asking questions later. As far as post-outbreak philosophies went, it was one I understood and respected and absolutely did not want to see in action.

When Bill finally reached us, grunting a general greeting, the first thing I noticed was the shadows under his eyes. The second thing I noticed was the pallor underneath his ruddy color. The third, and most telling, observation was the realization that both Joel and I had to shorten our strides and slow our pace in order to not leave the other man behind us. While Bill admittedly exercised only when Frank nagged him into it and then only begrudgingly, I’d heard stories from both men about Bill’s general stamina.

I might have been asked out to Lincoln to examine Frank but if I had my way I was going to spend a few minutes poking and prodding Bill before I left.

“When you sent word you’d be staying for a few days, we went ahead and cleaned up one of the other houses. Nothing fancy, just some sweeping, dusting, that sort of thing. Put new sheets on the bed, towels in the bathroom, couple pillows and blankets.” Bill slowed even further, shielding his eyes from the sun with the flat of his hand as he nodded at a small house across the street from the one he and Frank shared. “Figured it’d be better if we weren’t all living in each other’s pockets. Thought you might like some space for yourself.”

I glanced at Joel, tucking my tongue in my cheek to keep from laughing at the expression on his face, which could only be described as gobsmacked. Although it wasn’t necessary, seeing as Bill was an inch or so shorter than me, I still stretched up on my toes to press my cheek to his. “Thank you. We appreciate it.” My stomach chose that moment to remind me we’d skipped breakfast and it was closing in on close to eighteen hours since I’d last eaten. Now I did laugh as I dropped back on my toes while behind me Joel snorted and shook his head in disbelief. “We’d also appreciate lunch, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

An hour later, we were finishing the sort of meal which would have put a restaurant on the map in pre-outbreak days. Bill and Frank were both on their second glass of wine while Joel was just reaching the end of his first. I’d taken three sips so as not to offend either of our hosts before switching to water. I’d thought that little fact had gone unnoticed until Frank said, “Doc, I didn’t take you for a teetotler.”

“No, just….” I trailed off, tracing the foot of the wine glass with one finger before finally laughing and shaking my head. “Red wine gives me migraines.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Frank paused for a moment, frowning. “We have white. And rose.” He looked at Bill, waiting until his partner nodded in confirmation before continuing. “It wouldn’t have been a problem to open another bottle.”

“I’ll admit it’s been quite a few years since I had to worry about food and wine pairings but I do remember that red meat gets red wine.” I nudged my glass toward Joel and then turned my attention back to Frank. “And I am also absolutely not going to disrespect this meal with the wrong wine because I’m relatively certain if some higher power didn’t strike me down then Bill’s disappointment would do the trick.” I waited until their laughter died away before adding, “Besides, it’s generally considered a bad idea to practice medicine when you’re intoxicated.”

Frank’s frown deepened, his gaze hardening as he shifted his attention back to Bill, his voice low and tight. “I thought you said they were coming for a visit.”

“They are—visiting, I mean.” If Bill seemed bothered by Frank’s tone, it didn’t show as he set his fork down and folded his hands in front of his plate. “But there’s nothing wrong in having Doc take a look at you, either.” Frank started to open his mouth, no doubt to protest, when Bill said, “Please. For me.”

“Damn it.” Frank flung his own fork down and sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh. “Fine. For you.” He pointed at Bill. “But if she’s taking a look at me, she’s going to take a look at you, too.”

Bill picked up his fork with a grumble. “Fine.”

“Great.” I looked at the glass of wine I’d passed to Joel and contemplated taking a sip for courage but decided against it. “Who’s first?”

An hour later, Bill shuffled out of the spare bedroom I’d turned into an exam room, just as cranky as when he’d entered but with a bit more color in his cheeks. Not for the first time since I’d returned to the medical field did I find myself wishing for tests and labs in which to run them. As it stood, I could only rule out ailments and then make educated guesses about the remaining possibilities. In Bill’s case, it seemed as if some of the fatigue was due to low iron, with the best remedy being an increase in greens since I knew he had them in the garden. The majority, however, seemed to be a result of reduced sleep, which Bill had admitted was due to worry about Frank. Since telling him not to worry about the man he loved would be as useless as trying to keep the sun from rising, I didn’t even try.

There was a cursory knock on the door before Frank slipped into the room, closing the door behind him. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he rocked on his heels for a moment before saying, “So. Let’s get this over with, yeah?”

“Just a minute.” I took a moment to finish my notes for Bill’s file—old habits die hard—before slipping it back in my bag and pulling out a fresh folder. Glancing up at Frank, I said, “You can sit down. We’re going to talk a bit first before I do any sort of examination.”

“Everything good with Bill?” The other man perched on the edge of the bed, his back ramrod straight. “I know he hasn’t been sleeping a lot lately.”

“You know I can’t discuss his medical history with you unless he gives me consent.” I shook my head when he scowled at me. “The world might have ended and ethics in general might be a thing of the past but there are still lines.”

“Damn ethics.” His scowl melted into a half-hearted smile, his shoulders slumping as he took a deep breath. “Same goes for me, right? You can’t tell Bill anything about medical about me, right?”

“Right.” I studied him for a moment, taking note of the tension around his eyes and mouth, the slight tremble in his hands. “So Bill told Joel a few things and Joel passed them on to me, just for background. Still, I’d like for you to tell me how you’ve been feeling, any concerns you have, and then I’ll do a brief physical exam.”

He took another deep breath, this one shakier. “Okay.”

I tried to keep the conversation light, casual, as we moved through the exam, encouraging Frank to talk about his art while I checked his vitals, his glands, his chest and stomach. Satisfied with the initial results, I jotted down a few notes before pulling a small rubber ball and a reflex hammer. Setting them aside, I held my hands out to Frank. “Okay. Squeeze my hands as hard as you can.”

The second part of the exam took close to an hour, primarily because I double-checked and then triple-checked his reactions. The longer the exam continued, the more noticeable Frank’s fatigue and general weakness became, and by the time I finished he was nearly as pale as the bed linens. Returning to my chair, I said, “Do you want to take a few minutes and rest? I can go grab you some juice if you have any.”

“No.” He shook his head. “No, I’m fine.” Bracing his hands on the bed, he said, “Give it to me straight, Doc.”

“Best guess, you have some sort of disease affecting your nervous system. If I had to pick one, I’d say amyotrophic lateral sclerosis—you’ve probably heard it referred to as Lou Gehrig’s disease.” I kept my tone neutral, almost brisk, as if it would somehow make the bombshell I was dropping on him more bearable. “Again, best guess, and I’d emphasize the guessing part of that phrase. Pre-outbreak, your doctor would have ran tests and imaging, ruling out any other possibilities before diagnosing you with ALS.”

“Best guess is better than none at all, right?” He gave a weak laugh. “So what’s next? Or what would be next?”

“Over time, your motor functionality will decrease as more nerve cells break down. Partial paralysis is a very good possibility.” I paused. “Do you want the rest?”

He swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

“Muscle relaxers and physical therapy will slow the progress of the disease but there’s no cure.” It was my turn to swallow down the knot in my throat and blink back the corresponding tears. “Average life expectancy after diagnosis is two to five years.” Despite my efforts, a single tear still slipped free. “I’m sorry, Frank. I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too.” We sat in silence for a few minutes before he chuckled. “It’s almost anti-climatic, isn’t it? In a post-apocalyptic world, the thing that’s going to kill me is essentially bad genetics?”

“Doctors don’t really know what causes ALS—it might be inherited but it might also be a case of… well, like you said—bad genetics.” I hesitated for a moment, considering the possibility I might be overstepping but deciding I didn’t really care either way. “I know Joel and Tess have a connection in one of the FEDRA factories, someone who supplies them with narcotics. They should be able to supply muscle relaxers as well.” And if they couldn’t, I’d take the time to research a homeopathic alternative. “As far as physical therapy—.”

“I’ve got it covered.” He offered me a ghost of a smile. “Put some of my pre-outbreak knowledge to use.” He dragged a hand through his hair and sighed. “Bill doesn’t need to know. Not yet.”

“The longer you wait to tell him, the more difficult it’s going to be for both of you.” I held up a hand, cutting him off before he could protest. “This disease is manageable in the short term, yes, but it’s not manageable without help.” Lowering my hand, I fixed him with a stare. “Leaving that aside, it’s a really shitty thing to do to someone who loves you and who you love.”

“I know.” When I continued to stare at him, he sighed. “I know. But Bill… he’s… for all the exterior toughness, he’s remarkably fragile.”

I smiled in spite of myself. “People used to think I was fragile, too.”

“And?”

“I blew up half an apartment building.”

Frank barked out a laugh. “Bet that changed their mind.”

“Maybe.” I began putting my instruments and papers away, pausing when I was struck with a thought. “You mentioned something once about a boutique here in Lincoln, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, had to fight Bill tooth and nail to get him to fix it up.” He lifted his brows. “Feeling like doing a little shopping?”

Dinner was a muted affair, with Bill staring at me, Frank staring at Bill, and Joel seemingly lost in thought. By the end of the meal, I was nodding off into my wine—white, served by Frank with a wink—and when Bill escorted us across the street, I stumbled on the sidewalk, nearly faceplanting on the pavement. Muttering something vaguely uncomplimentary under his breath, Joel scooped me up, grunting as he adjusted my weight before following Bill.

“I can walk.” Even to my own ears, the protest sounded weak.

“Sure you can, baby.” He brushed his lips over my temple. “Maybe I just feel like carrying you.”

“Hmm.” I turned my face toward his chest, rubbing my cheek over his flannel. “Tired.”

“I know.” Another whisper of a kiss. “Go on to sleep now.”

“In the morning.” I drew in a deep breath, filling my lungs with the scent of him. “Promise.”

“In the morning.”

I was asleep before he laid me in bed.

When I woke the next morning, I was alone.

I rolled to my stomach and pressed my face into the sheets, still warm from Joel’s body, content to simply laze away the morning. As the fog of sleep began to fade, I became aware of the dull thud of rain against the roof and when I turned my face and opened my eyes I saw nothing but wet and grey through the windows. I stared for a moment longer before rolling to my back, grabbing a pillow, and using it to muffle a groan.

There went my seemingly perfect plan for the day.

“Well, that’s a fine way to say ‘good morning’.” Joel’s voice was deep and gravely, still thick with sleep and a hint of amusement. “And I even brought you coffee.”

“Coffee?” I sat up, dropping the pillow in my lap. “Really?”

“Bill set us up with enough for a few days, which might be the nicest thing he’s ever done.” Pushing off the door frame, he ambled across the room, passing me the cup as he eased his way onto the bed. “Scootch over, darlin’, or I may change my mind about sharing.”

“Meanie.” I took the cup from him as I scooted back to my side of the mattress, inhaling the rich aroma before taking a tentative sip, biting back a moan at the first taste. “I haven’t had coffee in years.”

“I swear I used to live on it. Probably drank six cups a day.” He waited until I took another, longer sip before taking the mug back. “Guessing you drank more between school and Cam.”

“I think my consumption might have actually reached a point where I was drinking solely for the taste because the caffeine didn’t really an impact.” I took the mug from him and sipped again. “God, I missed this.”

For a few minutes the only sound in the room was the rain pouring down outside as we finished the single cup of coffee. Joel offered me the final sip, humming low in his throat when I shook my head. “Thank you, darlin’.” Setting the empty cup on the nightstand, he curled his arm around my shoulders, pulling me tight against him. “Got a confession.”

“Hmm?” The rain was counteracting the effects of the caffeine, lulling me back to sleep. “What’s that?”

“Planned a surprise for you, something special.” He tangled his fingers in the ends of my hair, tugging gently. “Damn rain went and ruined it.”

“Had a surprise for you, too.” I pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “Damn rain.”

“Hmm.” He continued playing with my hair, his fingers stilling after a moment. “Maybe….”

“What?”

“Why don’t you stay up here, have yourself a nice little lie-in?” He slipped out of bed, arranging the pillows behind me before tugging the blanket up over me. Leaning down, he kissed my forehead. “I’m gonna get dressed, take care of a few things, and then we can have lunch.”

“Lunch?” I glanced at the clock, gasping when I saw the time. “Is that the right time? Really? It’s so late! I never sleep this late.”

“Which is why it isn’t a sin that you did it now so stop worrying.” He pressed his thumb to the spot between my eyebrows. “And before you say you aren’t, I can see your mind gearing up for a good worry session.” Giving me a quick kiss, he said, “Take a nap, darlin’. I’ll come get you when lunch is ready.”

“Wake me up before then. I want to take a shower.” Struck with a thought, I started to sit up only to plop back down against the pillows when Joel gave me a gentle shove. “I just wanted to check and see if we had hot water.”

“Bill said he took care of it.” Planting his fist next to my head, he leaned down and nipped at my chin. “Now, do like I asked and take a nap. I gotta tell you again and I’m gonna have to hold your surprise until after your punishment.” He chuckled when my breathing hitched. “Probably shouldn’t have threatened you with a good time but still… be a sweet girl for me and I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Fine.” When he frowned at me, tilting his head ever so slightly, I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Yes, sir.”

“Hmm.” He straightened, brushing a hand over my hair before flicking the tip of my nose. “Don’t think you won’t get punished for that little bit of sass, sugar.”

I watched him putter around the room, muttering under his breath as he pulled on jeans and a flannel shirt, glancing over at me every once in a while as if to make sure I was still following directions. Seemingly satisfied, he gave me one last kiss before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. I closed my eyes, certain I wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, certain my mind was simply too full to let me relax.

So when Joel woke me with a series of gentle kisses, I was more than a little confused.

“Waswrong?” I slid one hand into his hair, scratching my nails over his scalp. “S’mergency?”

“No, baby.” He chuckled as he pulled me up to a sitting position, shifting me until I was able to rest my chin on his shoulder. “We’re in Lincoln, remember?” Stroking a hand down my back, he chuckled again when I simply hummed my understanding. “You sleep hard when you get the chance, don’t you?”

“Hmm.” Turning my face until I could press my lips to his pulse, I murmured, “Haven’t slept like that since before the outbreak.” Drawing back until I could look at him, I said, “Did you sleep?”

“Only time I get a good sleep is when I’m with you.” He brushed his thumb over my cheekbone, his gaze steady on mine. “Go on and take your shower, darlin’. Give me a holler when you’re ready, I’ll come up and get you.”

“If I do that, it’ll ruin your surprise.” I laughed when he lifted his brows in question. “And no, no hints.”

“Fair enough.” He slipped out of bed, pulling me with him and turning me toward the bathroom, giving me a light tap on my ass. “Off you go.”

A half hour later, I studied myself in the mirror, giving an experimental twirl and watching the skirt of the dress float out around me before settling in place. The selection at the boutique had been limited, especially in my size, but fortunately had ran to simple, classic styles. In the end, I’d chosen a dark blue sundress with a rucched and shirred bodice snug enough to lift my breasts above the neckline and create a significant amount of cleavage. The skirt ended an inch or so above my knees and billowed beautifully with every movement.

Unpinning my hair from the tight bun I’d put it up in before my shower, I shook it out, pleased to find the steam had worked waves and not frizz into the length. For the first time in close to two decades, I found myself wishing almost desperately for make-up, even something as simple as mascara.

I wanted to look pretty.

Even as I had the thought, I flushed with embarrassment. Or maybe shame. It seemed almost selfish to be thinking about my appearance in a world where survival required a certain level of brutality. Except we were in Lincoln, which was probably one of the, if not the, safest places left in this new world. For the next few days, I had no responsibilities, no pressing concerns, no real worries. And Joel was waiting for me downstairs.

Maybe I was allowed to be selfish. on occasion.

“I’m not trying to rush you, darlin’, but you got about two minutes before I go up there, throw you over my shoulder, and haul your butt downstairs.” His threat might have carried a bit more weight if I hadn’t been able to hear the laughter in his voice and if he hadn’t continued speaking. “And you keep rolling your eyes like that you’re gonna roll them clean out of your head.”

“I wasn’t rolling my eyes,” I called out as I left the bathroom, pausing at the bedroom door and peeking my head around the doorframe. “Where are you?”

“In the living room.”

“Close your eyes.” Now I did roll my eyes when I heard him grunt. “Please?” He grumbled for a moment before going silent and I raised my voice. “Are they closed?”

“Kay.”

“I’m coming downstairs now.” When I reached the bottom step and turned toward the archway separating the hall from the living room, I ran smack into Joel, nearly sending both of us to the floor. He managed to keep us on our feet and keep his eyes closed, which made me smile. “You could have mentioned you were practically blocking the entrance.”

“Suppose you’re right.” He kissed my forehead. “Surprise is behind me.”

“Do you want me to close my eyes?”

“Probably a bad idea for us both to be walking around here blind.” Much as he’d done on the road to Lincoln, he twirled me away from him, turning at the same time so when he pulled me in, we were facing the living room with my back to his chest. Resting his chin on my shoulder, he murmured, “Not quite a picnic in a park but….”

He’d pushed the furniture to the perimeter of the room, leaving the center of the room open, allowing him to create a little nest of blankets and pillows. The coffee table had been turned into a small buffet, two bottles of champagne tucked snuggly in an ice bucket. Dozens of candles flickered on the mantel and in the hearth, casting a glow around the dim room.

“Awful quiet, darlin’.” He pressed his lips to my temple. “Makin’ me worried.”

“It’s better.” I had to pause to swallow the lump in my throat, to blink away the sudden rush of tears. “No ants.”

“Didn’t mean’ta make you sad.” Another kiss, even softer than the last. “Just wanted to do something special for you.”

“I’m not sad.” I didn’t have to see his face to know he was frowning and I managed a watery chuckle. “I’m not. I promise.” Slipping out of his embrace, I turned to face him, taking a few steps back before running my hands over the dress to smooth out any last minute wrinkles, real or imagined. “Okay. You can open your eyes now.”

When he did, his face went completely slack, his mouth falling open a bit. He took his time looking me over, his eyes dilating with each passing second until only the thinnest rim of brown remained visible. One hand flexed next to his thigh, fingers trembling slightly, while the other came up to grab his belt buckle, hooking his thumb in his jeans. After a few minutes, I said, “Awful quiet.”

“Took my breath away, darlin’.” He took a step forward only to immediately stop, shaking his head. “Need another minute.”

“Is that good or bad?” When he didn’t answer, I clasped my hands at my waist, fighting the urge to fidget. “Joel?”

“Darlin’, if I put my hands on you right now I’m gonna ruin that pretty dress.” He shifted his gaze to mine and my breath caught, heat slicing through me at the hunger in his eyes. “And then I’m gonna ruin you.”

Before I even realized I was moving, I’d closed the distance between us, my hands sliding up into his hair as he wrapped his arms around me, crushing my mouth under his. He grabbed the back of my dress, twisting and fisting the fabric, and through the pounding in my ears I heard something rip, felt the sudden give in the dress as something tore. When he would have pulled away, I dug my nails into his scalp, swallowing down his moan, only to have him break the kiss and rasp out, “Told ya I’d ruin it.”

“Don’t care.” I ran my tongue over his lower lip before digging my teeth into the tender flesh, every part of me melting when he growled low in his throat. “More.”

“Fuck.” Dragging me to the floor, he hooked his hand in the bodice of the dress, twisting and pulling until the seams ripped and he was able to yank the material down to my waist. Immediately he bent, drawing one nipple into his mouth and suckling with a ruthlessness which bordered on painful. Letting it pop free, he rubbed his cheek over my breast, the scratch of his beard raising goosebumps on my skin. “Sweet girl. Mine.” Turning his head, he gave my other nipple the same attention, only easing when I began to whine. Shifting his weight to one elbow, he moved up and took my mouth again before asking, “Want me to ruin you, too?”

“Too late.” I rocked my hips against his, bringing one leg up to curl around his waist, wanting him almost to the point of mindlessness. “Already did.”

“Goddamnit.” He pushed up to a kneeling position, tugging his shirt over his head and sending it flying before stripping my dress and his jeans with the same hurried, desperate efficiency. Pulling my legs up and hooking my knees over his hips, he slid one hand underneath my ass, gripping his cock with the other. Between one breath and the next he snapped his hips forward, driving the full length of his cock deep in my cunt, bringing our lower bodies snug against each other. Bracing one hand on the blanket next to my head, he clenched his jaw, grinding out, “Fuck. Fuck, darlin’.” Dropping his head to my shoulder, he took a series of deep, shuddering breaths before brushing his lips over my pulse. “Talk to me, sweet girl.”

In theory, an easy instruction. In practice, finding words was impossible since I’d lost not only the ability to speak but to think.

“Baby.” He kissed my temple and then my cheekbone, the side of my nose and my jaw, before finally giving me his mouth, not drawing back until my bones were as soft as warm wax and I was all but melting underneath him. Lowering his body until his full weight was on me, he nudged my chin with his nose before giving me another kiss. “Was wrong when I said you were beautiful like this.” He curled one hand around my hip, fitting me more tightly against him as he continued to dust kisses over my face and neck and shoulders—anywhere he could reach. “More’n beautiful. Otherworldly.” He sighed against my throat, his own taut muscles relaxing with each passing moment. “Are you real?”

“Are you?” Because it was impossible for me to believe in the nightmare of this world that someone like Joel could be real, could be here with me. I draped my arms over his shoulders, massaging the nape of his neck with one hand while tracing random circles on his back with the fingers of the other. The teeth-and-claw desperation which had brought us to the floor had dissipated, leaving a desire as mellow and rich as aged wine. Bringing my mouth to his, I whispered, “Stay.”

“Until the end.” Reaching up, he took one of my hands and drew it down to the pillow next to my head, lacing his fingers with mine. “Whenever it is. Wherever it is. Until the end.”

“Until the end.” My breath caught when he began to move, a slow, gentle roll of his hips, our bodies never separating. I pulled him closer, my lips trembling as I blinked back tears. “Joel.”

“I know, baby.” He kissed the corner of one eye and then the other, no doubt tasting the tears on my lashes. His breath whispered over my cheek as he sighed before dropping his chin to my shoulder. “Want you to cum for me, sweet girl. Want to feel you coming apart for me.” As if on cue, I instinctively tightened the walls of my cunt, bearing down on his cock, and we both groaned. “Yeah, like that, just like that.” He began to rock his hips faster, grinding his pubic bone against my clit with each forward movement. “Such a good girl for me.”

“Joel.” I half gasped, half whined out his name, one hand still clutching desperately at the sweaty curls sticking to the nape of his neck. “I need….”

“I know, darlin’.” Snaking his free hand between our bodies, he began rolling his thumb over my clit in slow, steady circles, cursing under his breath when I instantly grew wetter, warm fluid coating his cock before spilling out of me, drenching the blanket under us. “Goddamnit.” His pace faltered, stuttered for a moment before smoothing out, each thrust sharp and brutal. “Another. Give me another, sweet girl.”

I shook my head. “Can’t.”

“Liar.” As if to prove it, he scraped his nail over my clit before pinching the sensitive bundle of nerves. He brought his lips down on mine at the same time, swallowing my whimper, cursing into my mouth as I orgasmed again, squeezing my cunt even tighter around his cock. “Again.”

“You first.” I was almost dizzy with pleasure, the room spinning around me in slow circles. “Want to feel you.”

“No.” Somehow he wrenched himself free from me, sliding down my body, pressing wet, open mouthed kisses to my breasts and torso, wedging my legs open with his shoulders as he slicked his tongue over my scar and then further down, dragging his teeth over my hipbone. Settling between my thighs, he exhaled, worrying at my clit again with his thumbnail, pinning me to the floor when I tried to arch my hips, his grip fierce enough to bruise. “So fucking pretty, darlin’. So fucking pretty. Could stare at you all day.” He switched to massaging my clit with firm strokes, sliding two fingers into my cunt, groaning when more wetness spilled over and around his fingers. “Yes, baby, just like that. Give me more.”

“Joel.” I moaned his name, digging my nails into the back of his hand still clasped with mine. “Please.”

“Please what, sweet girl?” He worked a third finger inside me, curling them until he was able to rub his calloused fingertips over the soft, spongy spot with exquisite precision. “Tell me what you want.” He pressed a gentle, almost chaste, kiss directly above my clit. “Tell Daddy what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“Oh, God.” I squirmed against his hand, riding his fingers shamelessly, tears streaking down my cheeks, both my body and mind overstimulated to the point of pain. Something about the honorific, the natural way it rolled off his tongue, brought the hunger and the desperation roaring back to the surface, nearly drowning me with its intensity. “Joel… Daddy…want your cock, please, please, please—.”

“Such a good girl.” He pulled his fingers from my cunt, shushing me when I let out a long, broken, high-pitched whimper. Sliding up my torso, he drove his cock deep inside me, the head bumping against my cervix and pulling another whimper from me. He brushed tangled strands of hair away from my sweaty forehead before kissing my temple. “Daddy’s got you, sweet girl. Gonna take care of you.”

“Kiss me.” I threaded my fingers through his hair and pulled him to me, catching his mouth with mine, sliding my tongue over his lower lip before slipping it into his mouth, spinning out the moment until we were both breathless. Even then, when I pulled back for air, he followed me, giving me no time to catch my breath. Pulling back again, I gasped out, “Please.”

“Spend the rest of my life listenin’ to you beg.” He began to move again, slow and steady and deep, the head of his cock nudging my cervix with each thrust, the minute pain exquisitely beautiful. “Cum for me again, baby, squeeze my cock with that pretty cunt of yours and Daddy’ll give you his cum.” He groaned when I hitched my legs higher, crossing my ankles and resting them against his back, pulling him tighter. “Knew that’s what ya wanted, darlin’. Be a good girl and cum for me, cum for me now, cum—.”

The orgasm ripped through me, left me speechless and breathless and mindless, my vision blurring and going dark at the edges. Joel slowed for a heartbeat, maybe two, before simply hammering into me, no skill, no finesse, just desperate need. I was still riding the waves of my release when he slammed his hips against me one final time, emptying himself into me with a low, throaty moan before going completely limp and collapsing on top of me.

After long, long minutes, Joel roused himself enough to roll away from me, both of us groaning when his cock slipped free. Untangling his fingers from mine, he cupped my cheek, stroking his thumb over my lower lip. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I was still floating, drifting along on a river of endorphins, but I managed to smile at him. “Best picnic ever.”

“Hmm.” He tilted my chin up until I met his gaze, his lips curving in an indulgent smile. “Think you can give me a number?”

“Six. Maybe seven.” Over the years we’d developed a scale, a way to indicate how deep I’d slipped into subspace, how intense the endorphin drop would be, how much aftercare we’d both need. I gave a half-hearted stretch, sighing at the pleasant ache. “‘Daddy’? That was new.”

“Yeah.” He pressed his thumb to the center of my lip, not enough to hurt, simply to ensure I knew he was there. “Surprised myself a little there. You?”

“Like I said, new. Different.” I shrugged lazily. “Didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He sighed, pressing his forehead to my shoulder. “I’d say I’d buy you another dress but….”

“Uh-uh.” I rolled to face him, pillowing my head on my arm. “I was up there, stressing because I didn’t have any makeup, didn’t have a curling iron, worrying the dress didn’t fit right—I wanted to look pretty.”

“Sweet girl.” He leaned in and kissed the tip of my nose. “Don’t know what I’m gonna do with you.”

“Keep me.”

“Think that’d be a good idea.” He stroked his hand down my back, trailing his fingers over my vertebrae. “Probably leave the day after tomorrow, unless the weather’s still bad or you need more time with Frank.”

“No.” I laid my hand on his cheek, spreading my fingers wide. “There’s nothing more I can do for him.”

“That bad?” When I didn’t answer, Joel sighed. “That bad.”

“It’s one of the most frustrating parts of medicine, knowing there are some things we can’t cure, no matter how hard we try.” I traced the bridge of his nose with one finger, then the curve of his eyebrow, lingering over the tiny scar. “Not just terminal illnesses but things which seem as if they should be easy to cure—fever blisters, warts, even something like chicken pox, once it’s in your system it’s always there, even if there are no obvious symptoms.” I dragged my nail around his ear, unable to stop touching him. “One of the hardest things to treat is toenail fungus. It can take months, over a year, even, of daily treatments to see results, depending on the severity of the infection.”

“And people still talk about a cure for… well, whatever the hell you want to call those things.” He snorted. “Or a vaccine.”

“Idiots.” It was my turn to snort, the sound dissolving into a giggle when Joel danced his fingers over my ribs. “Stop that. You can’t vaccinate against a fungus.” I tried to squirm away only to have him pull me closer. “There were no fungal vaccines before the outbreak and since medicine and scientific research pretty much ceased making any advancements or innovations at the same time I’m pretty confident in saying there are no fungal vaccines available now.”

 “Maybe some mad scientist has been working on it in a secret underground lab somewhere.”

“Joel.” I fixed a bland stare on him. “It took close to twenty years to develop a vaccine for polio. The vaccine for influenza, which requires adjustments and tweaks every year and doesn’t even prevent the flu so much as make the symptoms more tolerable, took nearly as long. It took centuries to develop a vaccine for smallpox. And those were vaccines which had backing from governments, sometimes multiple governments, and very healthy funding. And even once a vaccine is developed, it has to go through multiple testing stages, animal and human, before it can be distributed to the general population.” I waited a beat and then lifted my brows. “Now, do you really think a single person working with no funds, outdated equipment, and outdated knowledge is going to be able to accomplish something on that scale?”

“Think you made your point, darlin’.”  He poked my ribs with a single finger. “Really get on your high horse about that topic, don’t you?”

“Look, I want a preventative or a cure as much as the next person. I want to be able to take walks in the woods or through a field and not worry about being attacked by infected. If I had children, I’d want them to be able to grow up in a world where this was one era in the history of humanity and not the new normal.” I rolled to my back, tucking my arm under my head and frowning at the ceiling. “But I know that’s not possible. Letting people believe it is, that if they just suffer a bit more, if they commit a few more acts of barbarism, that things will change for the better is cruel.”

“Like I said, gets you up on your high horse.” The room was silent for long minutes before Joel cleared his throat. “You ever think about kids?”

I turned my head to look at him, studying the careful neutral expression of his face. “Do you?”

“Now and then.” He reached over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Sarah’d be a little over thirty. Maybe she’d be married, have kids of her own.” He chuckled softly. “Or maybe she’d have gone to some sort of fancy school and be getting started in a career. Girl had a brain on her that made my head spin.” He tapped a finger in the center of my forehead. “Kinda like yours.”

“Maybe she would have gone to school a little further north. Johns Hopkins for medicine, Georgetown for law.” I wrapped my fingers around his wrist and drew his hand down so I could press a kiss to his palm. “Or maybe you would have come to the D.C. area on vacation and we’d have ran into each other in a museum.” I smiled. “Gone for coffee.”

“Not much of a museum guy but Sarah would have dragged me to a dozen of’em.” He cradled my cheek in his palm. “Maybe y’all would’ve come down to Austin, caught a music festival. Run into you in the crowd and convince you to have a dance or two with me.”

“You would have regretted that—Daniel always told me I had two left feet.” I laughed when he winced. “He wasn’t much better but his mother did make him take dance lessons for his bar mitzvah.” My smile faded and with it, Joel’s. “I loved Daniel. When I… when he died, when my children died… I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say part of me died, too.”

“I know.” He laced our fingers together, bringing our joined hands up and brushing his lips over my knuckles. “I understand.”

“If I could somehow turn back time or change history, make it so the outbreak never happened, I would do it without hesitation.” I shifted closer, resting our joined hands on his cheek. “And I know, whether it was in D.C. or Austin, a museum or a festival or just walking down the street, I would have found you.”

“And if you didn’t….” He trailed off, swallowing hard and clearing his throat before continuing. “If you didn’t, I would have found you.”

We left Lincoln a few days later, making a detour in Cambridge at my request so I could scour the Harvard libraries for medical textbooks. Even if they were out of date, they were still useful, especially if I wanted to start training a nursing assistant. The labs and pharmacy were as picked over as I expected but there were a few little gems, including some muscle relaxers I would be able to send to Frank.

Life, our life, in the QZ fell back into its normal patterns, with Joel and Tess making supply runs while I ran the clinic. Over the next year or so, Joel gradually moved from the apartment next door into mine, only spending the night with Tess on rare occasions. It wasn’t something we discussed, simply something which happened, and if Tess resented the change she never discussed it with me.

At the same time, messages from Tommy grew fewer and further between, eventually dwindling to once a month. He’d left the Fireflies, never specifying why, and joined another small group, making their way through the upper Midwest. I kept my worries to myself, knowing Joel was easily twice as worried, if not more so. It showed in the extra shifts he picked up, the shortness of his temper, the way he clung to me in the middle of the night when he thought I was asleep.

I knew before he did that we were leaving to go find Tommy. I pushed the nursing assistant harder, rushing him through training and starting a second assistant at the same time. Even if I wasn’t in the QZ, people still deserved good medical care and people they could trust. I worked with Frankie to set up an independent supply chain for the clinic and to stock us for our trip west, wherever we were going. I hoarded light, non-perishable food items, unpacking and repacking things into the smallest package possible.

Joel came back to the apartment one night an hour or so before I closed the clinic, trudging through the front door as if there were twenty pound weights attached to each foot. I watched him move around the apartment out of the corner of my eye, opening and closing cabinets, wandering aimlessly. When the last patient left, I sent both assistants home as well, locking the door behind them before joining Joel at the kitchen table.

He passed me the glass of whiskey he’d been nursing, waiting until I took the first sip before speaking. “Still no word from Tommy. Never taken him this long to get a message back before.”

I nodded, waiting.

“Talked to Tess.” He pulled the glass back, staring at the amber liquid. “She’s got a lead on a car battery. And I’m pulling strings to get an old FEDRA vehicle.” He looked up at me, his face as somber as the day he’d sat at Frankie’s bar and asked me for water. “I gotta go find him, Kay.”

“I know.” I took the glass back and finished it off. “When are we leaving?” He sat back, scrubbing one hand over his face, and started to open his mouth, no doubt to protest, only to snap it shut when I shook my head. “Until the end, Joel. Whenever it is, wherever it is.”

“I know but….” He trailed off, reaching across the table and taking my hand, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles before sighing, looking up at me with a soft smile. “Until the end. Whenever it is, wherever it is.” Bringing our hands up, he kissed my knuckles. “A week. No more than that.”

I nodded. “Okay. I’ll be ready.”

And a week later, I was finishing notes in a patient file when the apartment door flew open and Joel shoved a rumpled and very pissed-off teenager inside. He stared at her for a moment before glancing at me, his features inscrutable. “Kay. Sorry about the door. She’s coming with us.”

I blinked. “Okay.”

“Can you take a minute and look her over? Hit her head earlier.”

She whirled around, scowling at him. “Because you threw me into a wall, you asshole!”

“Hmm.” Biting the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling, I closed the file and set it aside, nodding at the chair across from me. “Take a seat. I’ll see if you’re concussed or just cranky.”

“Things have gone a little… sideways with the battery.” Joel flicked a look at the teenager, who was still glaring at him as if she would be more than happy to put a knife through him. “As of now, we’ve got another option but Tess is checking a few things. If everything is good, we’ll leave tonight.”

“Okay.” I continued smiling at the girl. “Sit or you don’t get a lollipop when I’m finished.”

She snorted. “Do you even have lollipops?”

“Well, you’re not gonna find out if you don’t sit down and let me do a quick exam.” I shifted my gaze to Joel, taking note of the shadows under his eyes. “Go grab a nap. We’ll be fine.”

Crossing the room, he flopped down on the sofa, draping one arm over his head and closing his eyes. Not even two minutes later, his breathing had evened out and I knew he was asleep. Turning back to the girl, I found her staring at me as if I’d just performed a magic trick or a miracle. Tucking my tongue in my cheek, I took a moment to compose myself before asking, “So what exactly did you do which made Joel through you into a wall?”

“I tried to stab him. How did you do that?”

“Do what?” I pointed at the chair next to me, waiting for her to sit before continuing. “And why did you try to stab him?”

“He surprised me.” She winced as I probed the back of her head, scowling again. “You told him to take a nap and he just… did.”

“Remind me not to surprise you. Follow my finger with your eyes.” I also took the opportunity to examine her pupils, satisfied to find them neither dilated or blown. “And I didn’t tell him to take a nap, I suggested it. It simply happened to be a suggestion which was beneficial for him.” Sitting down, I tilted the chair back on two legs until I was able to open one of the kitchen drawers, snagging a lollipop before letting the chair drop back to the floor. Tossing it to her, I said, “You’re not concussed. Got a little bump on the back of your head, may feel a little tender, but otherwise you’re good.”

“Great.” She stared at the plastic wrapped sweet for a moment before looking at me. “Really?”

“I’m a big believer in keeping my promises.” We studied each other for a few minutes, Joel’s delicate snoring echoing through the room. Finally, I said, “You can call me Doc. Pretty much everybody does.”

“He called you ‘Kay.’”

“Yes, he did.” I lifted my brows. “Like I said, you can call me Doc. Pretty much everybody does.” After a beat, I said, “This is the part of the introduction where you tell me your name.”

Crossing her arms, she kicked the table leg. “Why does he get to call you Kay?”

“Because he’s not everybody else.” I glanced over at him again, satisfied he was actually sleeping. “What’s your name?”

She let out a massive sigh and even without looking at her I knew she was rolling her eyes. “Ellie. My name is Ellie.”

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Fireflies Over The Wall - Chapter 12

Relationship: The Bell Keeper & Meiri (Original character)

Summary: "The troll brought with herself, every night without a fault, a baby.

Every night, she placed it upon the grass, and pointed upwards, showing her baby the stars and constellations. Showing her baby the fireflies.

Holding it tight. Cuddling with it. Making sure it saw the beauty the world had to offer. He had never considered himself a sentimental man. Yet this image, for some reason, never failed to make him return home feeling something gaping and void inside of himself.

Every one of his former coworkers must have returned to their families.

Who would Edmund return to when he could work no more?

What would give him a reason to get out of bed when the fireflies were no longer enough?"

An OC's origin story as well as a Bell Keeper character study, because this character is much more fascinating than I'd been giving him credit for.

Notes: Title from 'Enchanted' by Taylor Swift

Omg I can't believe we've reached the last chapter of this fic!! For everyone that has made it so far I'd like to give my biggest and most sincere THANK YOU!!!! I was very insecure coming into this because I adore Meiri but I wasn't sure I'd be able to write a story good enough to captivate people when centering it around an OC, especially since I don't do a lot of art for her and I feel like that's generally what makes people grow fond of original characters. But anyway, Thank you so much for giving me (and her!) a chance. I hope this has been fun to read, because I sure loved writing it <3

Oh and for everyone who not only read but also commented/left tags I'd like to offer my entire soul. It's yours now. You don't want it? Too bad. Not my problem anymore.

Chapter title: This was the very first page

Read it on ao3

Edmund didn’t know how to handle children. That was a fact. Most parents also did not know how to handle children. That was also a fact. Yet a good deal of adults seemed to grow up without any major upbringing-related trauma. At least those raised by people who actively tried to not be manipulative and bigoted assholes; Edmund wouldn’t know anything about that, either. That train of thought had been circling around in his mind for the majority of his waking time since the last Meiri-related incident (the other part of the time it was filled with an annoying jingle he was cursed to listen every time he turned on the radio), yet it never led him to any conclusion. Edmund didn’t have the first clue if he had done something wrong, what it had been, and if he’d continue bringing the girl distress should she come back in the near future.

But certainly, he hadn’t been doing so bad that she wouldn’t show up ever again, had he? It wasn’t like she showed up every day religiously during normal times, but the fact that it had been almost a week since she showed up in his house lashing out and clearly hurt and he hadn’t seen hair nor hide of her since made him uneasy. Like too much had been left unresolved and unsaid and if that was the last he’d ever see of her, she’d always carry a thread of his being around, and he’d live every day with that empty feeling of something missing, something tied elsewhere.

Therefore, for all the thinking he had been doing on the matter, it should not have startled him so when he heard her voice behind himself while he was putting up clothes on his clothesline.

“Have you ever seen a bleeding tooth?” She asked, making him jump in surprise and turn around without even registering the movement, fully expecting to see her hurt with blood coming out of her mouth and ready to rush to whatever help he could provide.

Which would mostly consist of picking her up and running to the hospital, so it was very relieving to find her looking perfectly normal, if a little uncomfortable.

“Damn, kid, you startled me.” He said, as everyone does when a moment of fright’s worth of adrenaline stops them from forming any other sentence and doing anything else besides bringing their hand to their racing heart. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t mean it like a complaint, but he had to admit the wording was a little careless when she shifted her weight from her right foot to her left one and stopped trying to even look in his general vicinity. Great.

“Have you ever seen a bleeding tooth?” She repeated, this time adding context. “It’s a mushroom.”

Of course it was. Edmund rolled up his sleeves, a nervous habit of his own; they felt tight around his arms every now and then.

“Can’t say I have.”

“I found some nearby.” She gripped her backpack’s straps; she wasn’t wearing her school uniform, though, which struck him as odd. “Probably because it rained. Well, you know, they were already there, but because it was wet the mycelia must have soaked up all that moisture and made it actually look like a bleeding tooth. Wanna see?”

Mouth already open, Edmund’s answer changed before he even realized, as good sense overrode his instinct. He couldn’t say who was more surprised by his ‘no’, himself or the girl, but he could tell he had to do something immediately because he was quite certain it was tears he was seeing gathering in her eyes.

“You can show it to me later.” He added quickly, trying to convey that he wasn’t mad and nor had he stopped caring. That seemed to appease her some. “First I want ya to tell me if you’re okay.”

Meiri shrugged; she was looking at the general direction of his face now, which was good.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Very rarely did she crumble first when they were both standing their ground, but his crossed arms and single raised eyebrow were more efficient that day than they had been known to be, and a few seconds of it had her sighing and slumping her little shoulders.

“I’m sorry, okay?” She said, like she was desperate for it but dreaded having to do it at the same time. “I was rude, and shouldn’t have acted like that. Alright?”

She stared up at him defiantly, but so tense that the insecurity seemed to drip off of her like water when one was caught in a bout of rain. Her lip was wobbling; she wasn’t daring him to go back on what he’d said. The challenge she was proposing was much scarier – keep your stance and let me stay.

“That’s not what I asked.” He said unhelpfully much to the little girl’s annoyance. She huffed, not understanding why he couldn’t just take the apology and go back to normal. She’d already offered everything she had, the least he could do was spare her his weird meandering logic. They both knew they'd have to get to the apology, anyway, so why not cut straight to the point?

“I’m fine.” She crossed her arms, not only because at some point she’d taken to mimicking his stances but also to shield herself from the cool, damp air. He was an idiot to leave laundry out to dry when the weather was like this.

He was an idiot, period. And a particularly frustrating one when he did nothing but stare at her skeptically.

“Meiri.” He said, and she knew it was serious because he probably wouldn’t have used her name if it wasn’t. Her stomach sank and it was anyone’s guess if the feeling came from the cold or from her nerves. “We aren’t going anywhere unless you’re honest, kid. Are you doing okay?”

Meiri let her head drop back with a grunt. “I’m not! I feel awful, are you happy?”

“Of course I’m not happy.” She was going to murder him. She was actually going to murder him because what did this man even want from her? “I never want you to feel bad. But is there something I can do?”

“Well, obviously!” She snapped without any real heat behind it. “I wouldn’t have come here if there wasn’t.”

He didn’t bulge. “So…?”

“So I’m sorry!” She sounded pleading now, and was fully aware of it. “I was mean when I shouldn’t have been. Can we just do something else now?”

Edmund sighed, deciding to put down the basket of clothing pegs since this was probably something he would want to give his complete attention to. Not like he was going to continue hanging up clothes, anyway.

“We can, but I don’t think we should.”

“I think we should. Let’s go see the mushrooms.”

One look from him made it clear she wasn’t going to have it the easy way, and she shut up most unwillingly.

Edmund kneeled in front of her, making it harder for her to discreetly look away now that they were on the same level. His pants would be tainted with wet dirt, but he couldn’t care less. There was a reason why he insisted on sturdy clothing.

“I know you are sorry.” He said, half of his brain circling back to the earlier thought of I Don’t Know How To Children, and the other half having enough sense to figure that it was probably like dealing with a grown person, except you could scar them for life. No biggie. “And I’m glad you came to tell me this. But I want to understand what happened.”

“You know what happened. I screamed at you.”

Edmund sighed. “I know-”

“I know you know. That’s what I just said.”

Ignoring the interruption after a pointed look at her (though seeing how nervous the kid looked despite her efforts to sound exasperated didn’t help him), he continued.

“I know what happened after you arrived, but I also know you’re a very good kid.” Meiri grumbled something unintelligible, and he could sense the self-deprecation in it even though he couldn’t catch a single word. “That’s what I’m asking. If you’re okay. Because I figured it can’t have been nice if it upset you that much.”

Meiri kicked some dirt half heartedly; since it was moist not a lot was achieved beside making a small concavity in the soil. When she spoke, it was with a quiet voice, not looking at him. The sound of the wind on tree leaves and birds leaving their nests to hunt graced the air around them.

“It was silly.” She muttered, lacking her usual self-assurance. “Someone said something at school and I got angry. You don’t have to be worried about it.”

His hum of acknowledgement was loaded with skepticism; the bell keeper didn’t think she’d believe it if he said that nothing that hurt her should be considered silly. Nor did he miss the way she carefully avoided giving any details about it.

“But you just said you’ve been feeling awful.” He pointed out, choosing to not pry any further into what exactly, had happened. If she ever wanted to talk about it, it should be on her own time. That didn’t mean he couldn’t push her to stand up for herself if the situation called for it. “If I can’t do anything to help, isn’t there anything you could? People don’t get to just treat you however they want, kid.”

The suggestion had the not truly surprising effect of making her huff annoyedly.

“I don’t care about it. Not anymore. I was angry then but I can handle it.”

You shouldn’t need to, he thought to himself, you shouldn’t have had to learn how.

“But–”

“I feel awful because of you.” She interrupted him, knowing it was going to be his next question. When he froze, breath caught in his throat, she lifted her eyes at him and blinked as she realized what that must have sounded like.

“Not like that!” She remedied pleadingly. “Ugh, I’m sorry. I’m so bad at this. I feel bad because I was mean to you. You didn’t do anything wrong–”

Her lips were curled; She might have been making an effort not to cry, but it was equally likely that the girl might be holding back a sneer at herself.

“I messed up anyway. And it made me feel… bad for it?”

Edmund nodded, breathing again after his worst fear of having been the cause of her distress had been nearly confirmed and then fallen flat once more.

“Guilty?” He suggested gently, and Meiri nodded.

“Guilty.”

Neither of them seemed to know what to say next. Edmund remembered a conversation they’d had, a long time ago, when she’d said she’d only ever apologized to people when someone forced her to. How many times had she already apologized since then, without anyone, not even him, ever asking it of her?

The girl seemed to remember the reason why she’d come all the way here with a backpack, and put it down on the ground in front of her, caring about it getting dirty about as much as Edmund had cared about his pants. At least it gave her something to do with her hands.

It was the only way she’d been able to think of to prove she was being honest.

The metal zipper of it was a bit rusted and got stuck in some places, but she was used to it and managed to get it open. Meiri felt her face warm up as she reached inside, feeling stupid and not knowing how her peace offering would be received. She knew he wouldn’t laugh at her. She was afraid of it anyway.

The girl took out the safest gift first, making the bell keeper raise both eyebrows in surprise when he was presented with a cucumber sandwich wrapped in plastic film. She didn’t dare lock her gaze with his, knowing the temptation to snap at him would be too big. Opening herself up always made a weird and unpleasant feeling settle on her belly. It made it harder to think when all she wanted was to hide.

Next came something she thought at length about whether she should have brought or not, and even now she considered keeping it hidden. It was stupid. But maybe stupid would be what it took to show she really was sorry. Edmund frowned, confused, when she offered him a woff plush that looked very clearly handsewn, the eyes asymmetrical and the tail floppy.

“What… are these?”

“They’re things you like.” She stated, resisting the urge to add an uncertain ‘right?’ at the end of her answer. She knew he liked those things. That was why she’d brought them. If he refused them, it wouldn’t be because they weren’t his jam. It would be because he was refusing her. “I made them for you.”

He took the woff in his free hand. The stuffing inside was bumpy, and there wasn’t nearly enough of it to keep the tissue from creasing. The stitches holding the facial details together all had different lengths. Edmund hadn’t really cried since he’d been a teenager. Yet he felt the sting of tears in his eyes now.

“Why?”

Meiri gulped, and bit her lip. She seemed to be waging an internal battle when she looked at him pointedly and said with a choked up voice.

“Because you’re always doing nice things for me.” The immeasurable effort she was making to force herself to be still and look at him while very deliberately stating that was palpable. He wanted to tell her she didn’t need to, that he understood, but she had clearly practiced that. It was something she wanted to say, even if she’d avoided getting to that point. “You’re always letting me talk about the things I enjoy and… you teach me many interesting things too. You’re a good person. You are… the best person I know. And you talk to someone no one else wants to just because you’re kind. And I wanted to thank you for it. And to say that I’m sorry.”

Those last words were rung out of her throat hand in hand with a sob, and when she bowed her head down so he wouldn’t see it so plainly, Edmund was left no choice but to lean forward and hug her. It didn’t take half a second for her arms to be around him as well, grip impressively strong for someone so tiny.

He supposed all that climbing must have been worth something.

“It’s okay.” He cooed, rubbing her back as the Meiri allowed the tears to run freely, clinging to him like she was afraid he’d run away if she let go. “Firefly, it’s okay. I forgive you. I know we say things we don’t mean when we’re angry.”

She would have to learn how to not lash out, that was true. But at such a young age she was already holding herself accountable, maybe even more rigidly than she should, so forgive him if he wasn’t about to point out any of the things she could work on at that moment. Meiri whined into his shoulder.

“I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean what I said then. I mean it now.”

“I know.” He began swaying them back and forth gently. “I know.”

They stayed like that until her crying subsided, until he realized the sun’s stronger rays were winning over the barrier of clouds and their own early-morning shyness, casting a silver glow over the treetops.

“If that happened again.” Meiri began, still reluctant to let go of his torso. “If that happened again, do you think you could still forgive me?”

It should have been a given, Edmund thought morosely. She shouldn’t have felt like she had to ask.

“I meant what I said. What you say when you're upset won’t stop me from caring about you. I promise.”

He heard her sniffle before drawing back slightly, just enough to look at his face properly.

“Then I think I can do it.”

Edmund blinked at the statement, put so boldly with her little shoulders set like she was bravely heading into battle.

“Do what?”

“Choose you.” His heart skipped a beat. He would have wondered if he was misinterpreting her, but for all she was doing to keep a cool facade she looked just as nervous as he felt. “If you’d still choose me.”

He would. For all the fear he felt, all the uncertainty, all the bumps he was sure there would be in this road, he found that he’d still choose her any time.

And he told her as much.

[electricprincess96]

I dunno if this is a thing in the game but one thing that took me out of the experience in the last of us show is that they had to perform life ending brain surgery on ellie to find a cure

Because as an autistic person with a special interest in fungi, i have done research into cordyceps ((may not be spelling that correctly)) and uh, if she’s immune due to being lightly infected at a very young age, as the birth scene implies, yeah the cordyceps would be in her brain, but they’d also have been in her blood by now if that’s the case, so wouldn’t it make much more sense to just sample some blood and study that?

Oh this is in the game and I hated it there too, the difference is when playing a video game you are a bit more forgiving and willing to suspend your disbelief more often cause, well its a game first (or it should be anyway).

The entire premise TLoU is built on, makes no sense, cause if Ellie has mutated Shrooms on her brain that tells the Fungus she's already infected then why do Clickers chase her? They should think she's already one of them that's the point.

The creators did add in her trying to put blood on Sam's bite to show her blood isn't capable of being the cure but the way she did it was so dumb obviously that wouldn't cure anything, her blood would need to be used to make a vaccine you can't just dab it on an open wound and expect it to be cured. But I bet the creators thought they were so smart adding that scene to the show to try and justify why life ending brain surgery would be the only option since Druckmann had been on record stating he thinks Joel was wrong for saving Ellie.

Also OK let's say the Fireflies succeed, they kill Ellie and they make a vaccine..... they maybe harvest enough Shrooms from her brain for like.... let's be generous and say 10 people. Which of these 10 people are going to sacrifice themselves to be the next person they harvest Shrooms from? Since they don't have a constant supply of these things cause they killed Ellie before they could run any tests to see HOW this mutation originated. They also don't know if immunity carries on to the next generation since Ellie was only the first generation.

Also the way they explain her being immune is dumb as shit. Firstly that birthing scene was one of the worst things I have ever watched. Having just seen House of the Dragon with so many realistical birthing scenes it was so jarring to watch Ellie's mother, get bit, moan for a bit and then suddenly a baby spawned between her legs. Like she didn't even fucking push. You could tell that scene was written by a guy because 1. They make a point of showing her mother cutting Ellie off of any physical connection to her mother very quickly and 2. They didn't seem to know an afterbirth was a thing. There is absolutely ZERO chance Ellie was connected to her mother long enough to have got in fungus infection in the womb and developed her immunity that way. She was basically already born and the virus needs at least a couple hours to really spread. Now all of this was implied in the game but shown in the show and it was even dumber than I thought it would be.

Also there's no guarantee they'd even he able to make a vaccine from the Shrooms on Ellies brain, they didn't even attempt to try with her blood. So why should Ellie, someone who did no give any concent for this, have to die for something that isn't even like 50% likely to succeed.

But yeah realistically if they could make a vaccine with the fungus on her brain they should be able to make it with her blood. Maybe not as potent but still.

[vincent-sinclair-deserved-better]

I See The Danger In Being Unprepared

Lee and Cylas get to the gas station and meet a group of guys, what could go wrong?

Characters: Cylas, Lee (by @kalid-raven)

Words: 2004

Content warnings: Sexual harassment, derogatory comments towards drug addicts, physical violence and violent thoughts

Previous Next

dividers by firefly-graphics

It wasn’t long before they pulled up to the gas station, and as she was reaching for the door handle, she looked over at Lee, “Anything I can get you?” 

He shook his head, “No, thanks, I’m good.” 

She shrugged, “Alright then. Be right back.” 

Even though she didn’t stop at this particular stop often, one time she’d been there the owner’s son had pulled up with car troubles, so she’d offered to check it out. Already expecting to be turned down and possibly even mocked, she was surprised when the owner agreed, even though his son seemed wary. It turned out to be only a minor issue she’d been able to fix on the spot, and to repay her – despite her insisting that he didn’t need to – he had given her only half the price for gas and snacks she’d gotten that day. 

The sun had set completely at this point, so the station and rest area were mostly just illuminated by the cold, white light emanating from a few lamps scattered between the parking spaces and fluorescent tubes at the building. The contrast between shadow and light was sharp, and the darkness beyond the illuminated areas seemed impenetrable. The thought of working a whole night out here, all alone, seemed less than desirable. 

“Well,well, well, if it isn’t young Cylas,” a gruff but friendly voice pulled them from their thoughts and they looked up at the middle-aged man just stepping out of the station. The sleeves of his faded red flannel were rolled halfway up his lower arms and atop his head rested an unfamiliar cowboy hat. 

They raised their brows, “Hey Tony. That one new?” 

“Why, jealous?” he shot back, a playful smile on his face. 

“Nah, not my colour. Wouldn’t go with my hair,” she replied, returning his smile, “Thought you didn’t work nights?” 

“I’m actually on my way out, just helped Shelly with some boxes in the back. Guy from the day shift left everything a mess and the poor girl couldn’t move the heavy stuff herself.” 

“So, you came in just to help out?” she asked, though she knew the answer, “You fire the guy yet?” 

He clenched his jaw and his expression grew more serious, “Can’t really afford to, people aren’t exactly fighting each other to get a job here. And you are already taken.” 

“I guess so,” they said, “Anyway, I don’t wanna keep you any longer. Say ‘Hi’ to the wife and kids from me.” 

“Will do,” he replied before continuing to walk to his car, while Cylas entered the gas station. The grey tile floor was reflecting the light and quiet pop music played. Behind the counter stood a timid-looking young woman, hair hiding her face from view. She didn’t even look up, just kept her gaze fixed onto the counter. Cylas immediately felt bad for her and prayed to whatever god would listen that the night would be calm for the woman. 

With a sigh, they turned away and grabbed a bottle of cola and water, before looking around the snack shelf for a moment, searching if anything would strike their fancy. To her surprise, her eyes fell onto a small box of Celebrations. Way overpriced, as was to be expected from a gas station, but... it was a mix of different candy bars and therefore had a higher chance to include something Lee could like, plus she could just offer to share with him. It didn’t have the feeling of an enforced gift or possibly unwanted sign of gratitude. And she had an excuse to buy some chocolate. 

Just as she was paying, the sound of obnoxiously loud music and another car pulling up disturbed the quiet, and she could see the woman flinch away from the noise. It seemed like their prayers had fallen on deaf ears. They wondered if Lee would mind staying around for a while, just until those guys left, but then shook their head. If anything, they would wait alone, not force some random stranger to get involved as well. 

She grabbed the bag with the snacks and left, albeit reluctantly. Four young men got out of the car, laughing and shoving each other, while their music blared across the rest stop. When she looked towards Lee, she was surprised to find him fixated on the men as well. Not because she didn’t expect their presence to draw attention, but due to how focused he seemed, keeping an eye on every move they made. The group, except for the driver who was pumping gas, made their way towards the gas station and Cylas cringed internally when she realised, she’d now have to walk past them. She just hoped they wouldn’t try anything; the day had been going so well and she didn’t want to ruin that now. 

And everything did seem to be going smoothly, she kept to right and tried to take the shortest possible route to the car while also staying out of the men's way, they passed each other with no interactions whatsoever – and then the small plastic bag ripped. She cursed under her breath and took a deep breath, before crouching down to pick her things up, feeling the men’s stares burning right through her. 

“Hey there, beautiful, not gonna bend over to give us something to look at?” one of the men called and she rolled her eyes, fighting the urge to comment. They’d only make fun of her. 

“Yeah, bet that ass is nice to look at, looks good already from this angle,” another once agreed. 

She wanted to scream. Or puke. Or punch something. Instead, she tried to focus on somehow tying the torn bag together because she really didn’t want to have her arms full around these guys. And then she felt one of them approach her from behind, seemingly trying to move quietly – completely oblivious to the fact that she was well aware of his presence and somehow missing Lee basically staring daggers at him as well. 

With an amount of self-restraint she wasn’t aware she had left, she stood up and was just about to continue walking, when she felt the man behind her move. Her free hand had grabbed hold of his wrist before he had a chance to get anywhere close to her, or her butt. 

“Do not fucking touch me,” she hissed through gritted teeth, staring at him with barely concealed anger. 

The man played dumb, “Dunno what you're talking about, honey. No reason to get all bitchy over nothing.” 

His condescending tone and smug voice told her enough, however, but she also knew that a confrontation would lead nowhere. These kinds of guys didn’t take her seriously, and she didn’t want Lee to get into trouble either. So, even though she really wanted to break the man’s arm, she just pushed his arm away and backed off. She’d managed a few steps at most before he came after her, again, and she turned to confront him before he could make any move. 

“What the fuck do you want?” 

He chuckled, “Come on girly, no need to be such a prude. Just wanna get a feel, a quick squeeze, that’s all. Can’t keep all the goods to yourself, that’s not fair.” 

Before she had the chance to even think of a response, a loud smack sounded, and the man before her jumped in surprise, before turning to face someone behind him, only to feel Lee’s fist connect with his face, hard enough to send the man to the floor.  

“What the fuck dude?” called the man, blood gushing from his nose, and his expression somewhere between shock and anger.  

Lee glared at him and managed to somehow say in a strained voice, “Don't feel so great, does it!? Touch ‘em again, and I'll make you eat your hand!” 

Cylas couldn’t help herself. Despite the seriousness of the situation, the look of complete and utter confusion on the man’s face, plus his friends also just standing by the station’s door and gawking, caused her to break out into laughter. Lee looked over at her in surprise, the burning anger and hatred in his eyes lessening for a moment, before the man spoke up again. 

“Seriously? You losing your shit just cause of this bitch? She your girlfriend or something? With the hair and style, she’d probably a druggy too, really not worth the trou-”   

This time it was Cylas who kept him from finishing his sentence, and cutting his attempt to get up short by delivering a kick to his shoulder. The man lost his balance and fell straight back on his ass.  

Lee chuckled, before glancing up and tensing once again. Cylas followed his gaze and saw that the rest of the group had apparently finally decided to help their friend, including the one who’d been pumping gas. Past the men’s shoulders, she caught the gas station attendant locking the doors, phone between ear and shoulder. 

“Come on, we should leave,” she said, still a hint of anger in her voice, but also knowing that this was a fight now worth fighting, “Don’t bother, they’re just scum and don’t deserve our time or energy. Plus, I think the clerk called the police or something.” 

The second sentence was what seemed to really get through to Lee, and he stepped back, visibly reluctant, before motioning for her to go first. She didn’t fight him on it, at this point she just wanted to get out of here.

As soon as they were back on the road and had put some distance between themselves and the rest stop, Cylas breathed a sigh of relief. Somehow, they had managed to get out of that situation without any serious injuries. 

But when they glanced over at Lee, they realised that his jaw was still clenched hard enough it must’ve been painful, and he was squeezing the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. Well, on his left hand at least, his right was bleeding and bruising already. With a punch like that, he’d be lucky if he didn’t break something. 

“Hey,” they said gently, not wanting to accidentally provoke him, “How are you holding up? You got quite upset back there.” 

He scoffed, “Fucking piece of shit deserved it. I should’ve done more but with all his buddies there and possibly police... I would’ve laughed to beat his face to fucking pulp, all of ‘em, now they’ll just go off harassing others and being disrespectful pigs, don’t deserve to breathe the same air as we do-” 

He paused his rant at this, taking a deep breath himself, “Sorry, I shouldn’t be saying all this shit. I’m not gonna hurt you, but understand if you’d prefer to get out now.” 

“Nah, you’re right,” she said with a half scoff, half chuckle, “I just hope the girl working there is safe and that those fuckers left. She looked scared when it was just me in there, I wouldn’t be surprised if she quit before her next shift.” 

Lee briefly glanced over at her, “You think we’ll get into trouble? With the cops, I mean? That place probably got CCTV and stuff.” 

Cylas shrugged, “I doubt those guys will do anything, nothing in the station got damaged, so I don’t think they could sue us for anything, but I’ll probably hit Tony up anyway.” 

“Tony?” 

“Yeah, the owner,” she explained, “But I’m sure the biggest trouble for you will be your hand.” 

He lifted his right hand from the steering wheel and stretched out his fingers before clenching it again, grimacing slightly. “I think it’ll be fine, I can move everything and it doesn’t feel like anything’s broken.” 

“You got experience with that kinda stuff?” they asked, brows furrowed. Lee just shrugged. 

It was at this point that Cylas noticed some movement in the side mirror, lights reflecting off of something behind them. “Call me paranoid but... is there someone following us, just out of range of the rear headlights?” 

@ace-of-hearts-and-spades @bluecoolr @rottent33th @myers-meadow @immortal-velociraptor

[squidsavior-m]

“Look at me now, Jaxon. You said I wouldn’t be able to do anything big for the world. And you didn’t believe me. When I was telling the truth about what’s been going on in Octo Valley. Told me to get real and get an actual job… Well, here I am. I brought back fuckin’ kraken.”

The morning was an easy one for the Maelstrom residence, Deborah was preparing the parlor early for any customers that wanted their sweet tooth fulfilled early with a smoothie. The dark red anglerfish grumbled, sitting on a chair and eating breakfast alone.

This table used to be full with the household in the morning. Even if his wife wasn’t there, he understood as it was her job. Naomi walked past the kitchenette, grabbing a pastry on the go. And was preparing to head to do her usual routine of checking on the New Squidbeak Splatoon. It has only been a few days since she got her captain title. “I still don’t understand.”

“Don’t understand what?”

“You are not even in your thirties. Getting the role of Captain of some military group. It sounds like a big lie to me.”

“No, it’s not! I have the-”

“Scars? Those scars are from Turf. You’ve been picking fights with krakens.”

“Well… not really? They instigate the fight first. But putting down the first blow.”

“You still shouldn’t really mess with that stuff. You’re a-”

“Kid? Dad, I’m twenty one. I can drink. I’m in a relationship. I can handle this on my own.”

“You’re still a kid.” “...is that all you’re going to see me as? Dad, I am the captain. I work with Krak-On. I made it to S+ rank… I’ve been seen as a rising star. With the Krak-On roller… I’ve saved the city from a power outage. Which could have escalated into something worse! And mom believes-” “The one you call, mom.” “...what are you-” Tired faded gray eyes, look at their child.  “If you think you’re so ‘grown up’ because you’ve done all that. Pack your bags and get out of here. You won’t handle a day without us. You’ll be crawling back saying you were wrong.” “Don’t interrupt me! Tell me why you say it like that! She is my mom! And always has-!” “She never was. I never was your dad. We’ve been nothin’ but your caretakers than anything.” Blue paused in silence, feeling everything that she knew to be wrong. She felt broken, her world felt like it was spinning and going dim.  With no hesitation, she snapped at who she believed to be her father. Baring her big kraken fangs at him. “Fine! I don’t need people who lied to me for my entire life! You’re just as bad as me at lying… because unlike you. I ADMITTED MY MISTAKES FOR LYING TO YOU.” “Get out of my house. Or I will call the cops.”

“…bet they’re still going to call me a kid in the end. Whatever, I guess. They're not my dad anyway… so he shouldn’t even call me his kid.” The Firefly squid frowns mentioning that.

“…I will find you two. One day… I know you will… and you can tell me what happened. And why.”

[slasherhaven]

can i request the slashers w an s/o who holds their hand a lot? like i absentmindedly will just hold my hand out and wait for someone to hold it back lol. also i love your blog you are such a talented writer💛💛

The Slashers with a S/O who likes to hold their hand a lot:

Thomas Hewitt

Will never reject your attempts to hold his hand. If you want to hold his hand, he will never stop you. If he does reject your offer, you know something is very wrong with him. Even before you're dating, if you obviously asked to hold his hand, he wouldn't be able to deny you. He likes how your hand feels in his, and becomes very fond of the gesture.

Will hold your hand at the dinner table if you wanted it. He seriously just cannot deny you (and his honestly likes it just as much as you do). Even if you wanted to hold his hand during supper, the two of you will happily be eating onehanded. Luda May thinks it's impractical but sweet. Hoyt and Monty are repulsed by how cute the two of you are.

Michael Myers 

What is this? He doesn't understand why you're so needy to hold hands so often. Try not to grab his hand without warning, or he's going to get a little defensive about it.

Does not understand your need to hold hands, but he finds it easier not to argue you with you. It's not much of a burden, so he lets it slide. He still doesn't understand your need to hold his hand but he's going to allow it if there is no reason not too. If you want to hold his hand, fine whatever, it doesn't bother him. And he totally doesn't actually enjoy it.

Jason Voorhees

Absolutely melts whenever you take his hand. No matter how long you and Jason have been together for, he just feels all fuzzy when you slip your hand into his. It's such a soft gesture, you don't even think about it, but it's also so loving and makes him feel even more connected to you.

Will hold your hand 24/7. He always insists on holding your hand when walking around in the woods anyway, because he thinks it's too dangerous and wants to keep you close. But if you want to hold his hand at any other time, even in the safety of your home, he is more than happy to do so.

Brahms Heelshire

Will always hold your hand. If you want to hold his hand and show him attention, he isn't going to stop you! Especially in the earlier stages of your relationship or just after he's revealed himself to you, he's just happy to see that you're accepting him and trusting him. No matter how long you are together, he is always happy to hold your hand.

It becomes something that he enjoys just as much as you. Brahms loves any form of affection and attention but he would have never put handholding towards the top of his favourite affectionate gestures list. You have changed his mind on that a little though. He understands why you like handholding so much.

Bo Sinclair 

Doesn’t mind a bit of handholding if it’s to show someone who you belong too. Whenever you take hold of his hand in front of a group of visitors, Bo will always pull you closer to him possessively. He will even do that around his brothers. If the three of them are talking and you take hold of Bo's hand, he's definitely going to smirk to himself and pull you closer.

But doesn’t understand your constant desire for it. He thinks handholding is a practical way of getting your relationship across to other people but he doesn't quite understand why you want to do so so often, even in the house when it's just the two of you. And he will probably brush it off if he's tending to something. But if he's not busy, he doesn't see anything wrong with just letting you hold his hand. Plus, it does feel kinda nice...

Vincent Sinclair

Learns to work with one hand. He's already pretty talented at working onehanded, but he masters that skill during his time with you. He enjoys holding your hand just as much as you enjoy holding his. Whenever he does have to take his hand back for a moment, you will just wait with your palm held out until he returns his hand to yours. Getting back to work.

Doesn't care about anything Bo has to say about it. He doesn't care whenever Bo teases the two of you. How could he care when you're right there, holding his hand and rolling your eyes at his twin. He's happy, that's all that matters.

Lester Sinclair

Will hold your hand whenever you want! Whenever you want to hold Lester's hand, he is more than happy to do so too. He gets the biggest smile on his face when you randomly slip your hand into his and lace your fingers together. And whenever you absentmindly hold your hand out for him to take, he will always place his hand in yours, making you smile.

The two of you might as well be attached. If you take Lester's hand, he's not going to be letting it go anytime soon. Whenever you go into Ambrose together, you're practically always holding hands, always together, always attached. His brothers have just accepted it at this point.

Bubba Sawyer 

Also loves hand holding! Bubba absolutely loves handholding but loves holding your hand especially. It's just a sweet little gesture that brings him smile. It warms his heart and brings a smile to his face. If you're not seeking out his hand to hold, he's seeking out yours.

You're both very tiring to the other members of the family. Yes, they get it. You're both happy and in love. Can they get a moment of peace now? You're always together, refusing to let go of each other. It makes them sick. You and Bubba don't care.

Billy Lenz 

You both hold hands without even realising it. You love holding his hand and he's gotten pretty clingy since you started dating, so you're holding hands nearly constantly. You truly don't even realise it half the time, until you need two hands and realise Billy is still attached to one of them.

It actually brings him a lot of comfort. You bring Billy a lot of comfort in general but sometimes you touch really helps. Holding your hand is like a safety thing for him, making him feel safe, loved, comforted, and cared for. What more could he ask for?

Asa Emory (The Collector)

Quickly learns it's a comfort (sometimes unconscious) thing for you. While Asa might not usually be the most affectionate person, he isn't going to reject you because he knows it's something that's important to you (even if it isn't necessarily conscious to you). If you want to hold his hand, as he isn't busy, then you can hold his hand.

Acts completely disinterested in it but is very understanding. He barely reacts when you take his hand or absently hold your hand out with him, he just laces his fingers through yours or takes your hand in his. Other than holding your hand, he barely takes any attention away from what he was doing.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) 

Sure, you can hold his hand. Of course Jesse doesn't have a problem with you holding his hand, especially in public. He actually likes to hold your hand in public, showing you off and keeping you close. He doesn't have a problem with it in the house or somewhere private either.

Finds it kinda sweet. He hasn't got a problem with it and he isn't going to deny you, because he just thinks it's sweet. He thinks it's cute. He doesn't find it burdensome at all because it's just you showing or seeking affection and there is nothing wrong with that.

Otis Driftwood

Hasn't got a problem holding your hand when you're out and about. Otis actually likes to hold your hand in public, both because he is possessive and protective. He likes to have you by his side, showing everyone else who you belong too. He also likes to know that you're right there beside him and not getting into any trouble.

Doesn't quite understand your desire for it around the house. Handholding serves a purpose when you're outside, not so much when you're at him, so Otis is a little curious about your desire for it so often. He's not going to stop you, especially if he's not doing anything.

Baby Firefly 

Will hold your hand whenever you like. Baby is pretty affectionate anyway so if you want to hold her hand, of course you can! She doesn't care where you are or who is around, she will hold your hand if you want. Why wouldn't she?!

Always holding your hand when you're out of the house. Whether or not you had a particular fondness for holding hands, she likes to hold your hand when you're outside of the house anyway. She likes to show you off and keep you close. Plus, it stops you both from getting separated.

Yautja (Predator)

Handholding is a little new. It's not an entirely new concept, you aren't blowing any alien minds here, but the increased human desire to do is is new. But he absolutely loves it. He loves holding your comparatively small hand in his own, engulfing it protectively and lovingly.

Will never release your hand. Seriously, if you don't pull your hand out of his, he will never let go of it. You wanted him to hold your hand, now he is going to do so like the good mate he is. It's sweet, really.