#they could make it work but they'd both need to be on their own for a while to actually get there.

[power-handmaiden]

Day 315: Bisexually Satisfied By My Healthy Work/Life Balance

After I had a lot of complicated thoughts after reading my tingler yesterday, it was relaxing to go to one that is extremely straightforward about its message. It even did some of my work for me when it went and compared itself to "Not Pounded By My Soul-Crushing Job Because I Quit". Well, compared and contrasted.

The way I see it, this one could be much more directly compared to "The Long Tetromino Piece Falls Into My Butt Just In Time". Both are stories about hobbies becoming a source of stress rather than an outlet for it. Even beyond the surface-level details, there are still major differences though- in this tingler, the stress of work being something that causes the need for an outlet is a very major part of the message rather than just being subtext. Another is that, in this one, the protagonist is actually successful in making a living off of doing what brings him joy. Probably in part because in this tingler, he didn't have to be pressured into it, it was a decision he came to on his own.

I like thinking of these two tinglers together, especially because less than two months passed between their publication. It's like there were some things left unexplored in "The Long Tetromino Piece Falls Into My Butt Just In Time", that this tingler came back to revisit. Different ways this kind of story could go, if the protagonist were of a different temperament. Sometimes it's best to just let hobbies and pastimes be that, but what about people who could enjoy bringing their interests into their work? What about people who naturally stumble upon something they'd like to make a living doing, in their spare time? As this tingler states itself, the right balance depends on the person and their relation to "work" and "life". It makes sense to see this side of it as well, coming from an author who now has traditionally published novels after starting his career putting out these short stories he just wrote for fun.

[transformersandturtles]

Couldn't find any of this SO I WROTE MY OWN FOR A ONE SHOT‼️ I will write more but I thought this would be good for now‼️ I'm really sorry if this seems out of character for either of them, I've never written anything for them before. 🥲

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CW - Swearing, reference to explicit content, possible spelling errors (non reviewed)

Word Count - 2,017 words (10,995 characters)

𝑳𝒆𝒕'𝒔 𝑮𝒐 𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈!

"Wade, is there anything you need from the store?" The gruff voice of Logan Howlett grumbled from the kitchen table, reading glasses resting on his nose as he held a small notepad and pen. He'd asked Al earlier if she needed anything, that wasn't illegal substances he had no way of getting his hands on, so now it was just a matter of asking his partner, who had just gotten back from walking Mary Puppins. He tapped the closed pen on the wooden surface, peering over the ridge of the glasses Laura made him wear. Who knew it was easier to read with glasses? He'd have to get something to thank her next time she came by.

"Oh! You're going shopping! Ooh, let's see!" Wade had quite the grin on his expression, taking off the harness and leash from the ever loving Dogpool, who he totally didn't get the owner of murdered so he could take her, and he picked her up, letting her lick his face as she was coddled like a baby in his arms. "We need more dog food," he spoke as he waltzed over to Logan, his hood falling down as he did so, "and more milk. Maybe some more eggs, and a pack of XL-" before he could finish, he felt something sharp poke at his throat.

"All that's on the list, except that last one. YOU can get that on your own time." The old Canadian scoffed a bit, not exactly in the mood to entertain Wade's thoughts. But he couldn't hold back a small grin when the other Canadian whined at the threat.

"Whaaaaaat? But Honey Badger, I can't go alone. They'd look at me weird." He protested, trying to be dramatic all for the sake of being dramatic.

"Uh huh, sure bub. . ." Logan put his claws away, grabbing the napkin off the table by his empty plate to wipe the blood away as the spot between his knuckles healed quickly. "So, there's milk, eggs, toilet paper, new beddings, steak, vegetables, beer. . ." He mumbled, setting the notepad down to write a few more things that came to mind. Wade set down Mary Puppins and he leaned over Logan's shoulder to figure out what other things were added. Toothpaste, mouthwash. . .

"Oh absolutely not." Wade reached for the pen to scratch out the body spray. "No way in HELL are you gonna buy Axe. Are you TRYING to smell like a skunk? Your musk is enough to make a room full of E-Sports players sick!"

". . . The fuck is E-Sports?" Logan wasn't sure if he should be insulted, confused, or both. But he wasn't too happy about the comment either way. "Also what the fuck is wrong with Axe? It's cheap and smells fine." He scoffed a bit. "I'm not trying to spend over $100 to smell good." He took off the metal framed glasses and placed them on the collar of his T-shirt under the teal-blue flannel.

"And I'm not saying you need to spend $100 to smell good, I for one think you smell amazing. Gets the body goin'. . ." Wade gave a cheeky grin with a chuckle, looking Logan up and down for a moment before looking back at the list. "But Axe is the worst one to use. If you want something to smell decent for work, I'd recommend Old Spice at the very least. Sure, the smell names are weird as fuck, but that comes with all male hygiene products. Women get all the sweet and nice sounding scents like peach vanilla or sunset cinnamon. . . Meanwhile we get stuff like Pine Jizz or Whales Fucking or-"

"Shut the fuck up, Wade. . . . Just shut up. . ." Logan let out a groan of annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. Wade had a grin on his face, laughing a little at how Logan told him to stop talking.

"I'm just saying, Peanut, if you get Axe then you're sleeping on the couch or out in the hallway." Wade warned, before leaning in to kiss Logan on the cheek. "I'll go get ready." He hummed, and left to the bedroom to change out of his sweatpants and hoodie.

"Yeah, yeah. . ." Logan mumbled in annoyance, putting his hand to his cheek to hide the light blush across his face. He huffed and stood up, stretching as his joints popped and cracked, from his lower back to his legs and neck. He popped his jaw a bit, before going to the coat rack to grab his brown leather jacket he got for a fairly good price last week. It was nice, not too tight but not too lose, and had some decent pockets. Perfect for carrying booze. . . Or other stuff he didn't want to pay for, maybe. He was THE Wolverine, and taxes were too expensive sometimes. Who was gonna throw him in jail if he shoplifted? No one, that's who. He adjusted the collar of the leather jacket, getting it how he wanted before stopping when he heard the bedroom door open. He looked at Wade, and stared at him almost dumbfounded. "You are NOT going out like that. . ."

"Why not, Peanut? You always like it when I dress this way." Wade teased, he wasn't serious about wearing the outfit in public, but he wanted a good reaction out of Logan. Besides, the outfit was pretty comfortable but no way in hell was he having enough confidence to show off his unicorn crop top and short-shorts. He didn't mind wearing it when he was having his great days; where he was overly confident and eager to show off his body despite the scarring. But today wasn't one of those days, especially since it was getting cooler as Autumn was coming in after what felt like eons of Summer. Wade did notice how Logan's complexion had turned a few shades of a deep red while looking, which also made Wade's cheeks turn a soft pink.

"Alright, alright, hurry up then. . ." Logan sighed softly, not even making a comment or retort to what was said because Wade was right. Logan crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for Wade but was surprised when the bedroom door closed again and he frowned. Did he say the wrong thing? Did he upset Wade? The mutant stood quietly but worriedly, his nose twitching a bit as he sniffed the air, trying to figure out if Wade was upset or not. It was hard to tell, so he stepped closer to the door. There didn't seem to be any low serotonin levels, they seemed about as normal as they could be for Wade. His nose continued twitching as he kept sniffing past the door, still trying to figure out if he upset his boyfriend or not, his ears twitching a little as well as he listened carefully. Before he could figure it out past the smell of everything else on the other side of the door, he was met once again with the face of Wade who seemed surprised at how close Logan was to the door. But that surprise soon turned to playful, mischievous grin.

"Aww, was someone worried about me?" He teased, wrapping an arm around Logan and leaning in to rub his nose against Logan's cheek. The gruff man scoffed with a growl, not out of hostility but annoyance, as he bit Wade's cheek with his big canines.

"Like hell I'd worry about you, dumbass. . ." Logan grumbled, moving away from Wade but didn't move too far so they could at least hold hands. "Let's go. . ." He sighed heavily, taking Wade's hand and going to the door to get their shoes on as Logan grabbed the keys to the apartment and put them in the pocket of his leather jacket with the notepad.

At the store, Logan had to keep holding Wade's hand so the younger wouldn't run off, who knows what that undiagnosed dork would go find and beg to have. Logan had his glasses back on as he looked down at the list in his hand. He had a specific order to get everything in, and if he had to deviate from that plan he might just lose it. Wade was very aware of his boyfriend's thoughts and methods, and honestly he didn't mind holding hands and walking with Logan, though he did stop a few times to look at something that caught his attention.

"We really gotta get you an appointment. . ." Logan mumbled as he gently tugged Wade along so they could keep shopping to get everything on the list. He headed over to the produce section, his hazel eyes gazing over the different fruits and veggies, letting go of Wade's hand for just a moment so he could find the perfect vegetables to cook for dinner. He'd started learning how to cook lately and had a nice dinner planned, so he made sure that the ingredients would be edible and not rotten inside or anything of the sort. He grabbed some potatoes, a few peppers, and for something sweet as a snack for later he grabbed some apples, a grapefruit, and a cantaloupe though it was slowly coming out of season and probably wouldn't taste as good as it does in the summer but he didn't care. He goes to check the ingredients off the list and turns to hold Wade's hand again, only to find the other Canadian had vanished. "Great. . ." Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath before grabbing the shopping cart and continued with his shopping, knowing he'd find Wade eventually, tracking his scent wasn't that difficult due to the constantly dying and regenerating cells, along with the citrus-pine smell he had. His ears and nose twitched every so often as he leaned his elbows against the cart to push it, walking around and glancing around as he got cheese, milk, eggs, and some other things in the aisle, a gruff and raspy hum vibrating in his chest as he tapped his sharp nails against the metal bar of the cart while listening to the music playing through the store. It was crappy compared to what he liked, some hit pop song the youth enjoyed, but damnit was it catchy in the kind of way that it was really annoying but kinda good. He whistled a little, getting everything on the shopping list and went to the aisle full of booze before an announcement rang over the store's system.

"Logan Howlett, please come to the front. Your child is waiting." A bored teen girl sounded over, the tone of her voice a mix of boredom, with a hint that screamed she did not get paid enough to watch over someone or help. Logan raised a brow at this, confused. Laura wasn't here, was she? But then it clicked, and he groaned slightly with some annoyance. He grabbed two packs of the good beer and headed to the front, finding Wade near a desk who seemed happy and relieved once Logan arrived.

"Honey Badger! I was so worried you left without me!" Wade nearly tackled the older man the moment he could, and Logan grunted, a bit startled.

"You're the one who ran off, idiot. . ." Logan scoffed, glaring at Wade before looking down at the soft thing between them. "Wade. . . What the hell is that?" He frowned. Wade looked down, and a big grin was plastered on his face.

"Pompompurin! He'd be great to sit with Hello Kitty and Cinnamoroll!" He beamed, excited even as he held the large dog plush. Logan wanted to say no, to make him put it back, because who knows how much money that thing cost, but the longer he saw those big eyes, Logan eventually let out a groan of defeat.

"Fine. . . But you're payin' for it, bub. . ." Logan patted Wade on the shoulder, before taking him and the cart to the self checkout aisle so he could scan everything himself. Logan didn't like strangers touching stuff sometimes.

"Fine by me!" Wade grinned, watching Logan scan everything and he snorted a bit, amused by his odd yet loving boyfriend.

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

Hey, just wondering if you could give us some insight into how the sleepy kitten cafe staff met Alan/got close to him/what they think of him. Also curious to see what all the bats think about cardinal. Did they ever meet in costume?

P.S: Keep up the good work!!

Of course!! I touched a little bit in "Jerry the Raccoon" but that was mostly Tim & Zeek (and it was not my best chapter- but I refuse to edit it for my own sanity)

Also so far? No. Cardinal manages to maintain a distance 24/7 with bats (almost as if hes tracking them during patrol- wild right??) But overall

Bruce is tearing his hair out, but admits they are useful and more effort than they're worth.

Babs adores them, and is on a mission to find them out and take them under her wing

Dick finds Bruce plight funny- but is kinda unnerved how similar Cardinal is to a talon in some ways. (also just creepy in general)

Jason "Game recognizes game" but wishes Cardinal would stop running so he could ask him more questions

Cass never gets close. But not bothered by them.

Steph thinks Cardinal is badass but keeps her distance, doesnt trust the vibes

Damien acts like he doesn't care about Cardinal (He so does, hes obsessed- lowkey fanboy behavior)

Alfred thinks its nice Bruce has someone else willing to deal with Gotham, who ISN'T under his nagging control. Theres some respect there.

NOW Sleepy Kitten fam backstory (as of rn, subject to change as lore provides)

Well Alan Draper (Originally Alvin) was a normal civillian persona Tim had- but in order to MAKE a persona, people need to know you. Otherwise it takes a quick asking around to realize you aren't who you say you are.

So when Tim was Fifteen or so Alan "moved to Gotham" from Chicago and started taking classes at Gotham University. He started showing up at the cafe out of pure convinence before Obi and Gwen worked there (officially)

Obi's dad had a run in with a rouge, got injured, and couldn't work both shifts. So they turned to part time student and began running the store. They'd gotten used to Alan hanging around and they talked on ocassion but mostly enjoyed silence when the other was working. Slowly but surely Tim grew to love being Alan- one of the few times he could be stress free anymore and yet not be so alone. And Obi dealing with the stress of taking over family buisness had one customer whose ever presence was comforting.

A few months pass and they consider each other pretty close friends to the point Alan had a spare key to the cafe in case of emergencies. Soon after some of the other staff quit and Obi opened applications- Gwen showed up, nervous as hell having never worked a day in her life and already applying to like ten other positions.

But Obi was desperate and soon enough Gwen was at the cafe just about every hour of the day and night. It got to the point where she would hang out even after her shift.

Then by pure forced proximity, Alan grew to love her company just as much as Obi- though in a way that forced him out of his shell just a bit.

It was clockwork of Alan, Gwen, and Obi all at the Sleepy Kitten on random day hours chatting away while working.

Events of the chapter transpire, with Alan showing up with this guy who 100% belongs in a gang, but Obi takes "minding their own buisness" HARD and trusts both Alan and Gwens opinions (Gwen who just saw sad guy and forced to help)

Now Obi has basically permenantly taken over the cafe, but still takes some art school classes on the side with some of the profits that don't go back into the cafe.

Gwen and Zeek have an apartment together in the far narrows since Gwen was desperate to move out, and Zeek was company and free security, who also needed a place. Apartment is just a block or so from the cafe too

Alan lives outside downtown but commutes often, works odd hours but whenever he is free, will set up in the cafe and enjoy the peace for a bit with his friends.

Long story short- they were coworker friends, except Alan refused to take a job literally ever.

[atangledfate]

All Sonic could see in that moment was red, and that anger was bubbling up like geyser ready to blow. He didn't have much in this world that he cared for, and he knew Amy was a tough girl. But seeing her like that just flipped a switch for him. Maybe it was that curse that linked him to her, or maybe was just his own protective nature as a guardian of his world. He didn't know but he'd never felt such a desire to put someone in the ground. Even despite the fact that he was hyper aware Surge was trying to prevent him from making a huge mistake. It didn't really register completely.

He grit his teeth and leaned in close to Surge and was seconds from speaking, telling her where she could shove her worries. If she knew Abe like he did, if she had any idea of all the awful things he was party to. She'd have wanted to put him in the ground to. GUN drove Gerald mad, tossed shadow in a damn stasis pod, killed maria in cold blood and so much more! there was alot they would never atone for in Sonic's eyes---all of this was just another drop in the bucket.

" Talkin' ain't ever gonna be GUN's language! I am so sick of tryin' to talk with those people! they only language they get is force, so i'm just gonna speak there language!?! "

He had no qualms busting Surge's face wide open to get to them either! Luckily Tails voice was perhaps the one he needed to hear most, mostly because of how close they were. But despite that it didn't make him less angry, it just made him bury it again and hide away like he always did. When he thought about it, he was kind of a coward wasnt he? always hiding, always tucking his tail and running from all that pent up aggression.

Surge could see his hostility ebb away, it was likely the first time she'd seen him so worked up. Yes he did care for Amy, like he cared for Tails, and anyone who threatened them was on his shit list!

" ... Mark my words, they ain't here to talk Surge... those bastards are a bunch of child killin' life ruinin' sacks of absolute shit. I'll play nice... but the moment i find out Abe was behind Amy's attack... the gloves are off... i ain't puttin' that to the side. You'd do the same if it was Kit... "

He looked away from her to the airship that was just within sight of them now.

" They ain't here to help... you an i both know it... this is gonna be us vs them... i'll wait... and i keep my promises. So you can relax... "

He was still very obviously pissed off, and only holding back for the time being. One wrong move by GUN was likely to set his ass off. But he knew if GUN had his way they'd lock them both up for sure. His eyes went to Surge though and narrowed as he realized something important and, as he needed some way to direct his anger he snapped at her instead.

" and YOU need to tell him the damn truth! because i sure as fuck ain't gonna explain it to him. Do you think for a moment he'd listen to me or tails anyway? You need to tell him, and soon..."

===============================================

Tails wasn't sure if it was Belle in control or an auto pilot in truth it was hard to tell. But he was pretty impressed by the over all craftsmanship of the bot. It was impressive and showed how far she'd come! He was always impressed by her work, and it was proof in his mind that Eggman's bots could do good given the right program and incentive.

" And who do you think designed the artificial Chaos? Doctor Gerald Robotnik... Eggman's grandfather. Lots of Eggman's technology was inspired by Gerald, even if Gerald's intentions were pure... alot of his tech was turned into weapons for GUN or worse... locked up for being to dangerous. But i guess you know more about it then i do... just hard not to see the similarities "

Tails had been working the entire time he was talking. He connected the satellite to the Belle Bot which gave her access to the eye in the sky. This also allowed her to interface with the restoration com network fully, and reconnect the broken bits from the EMP with the satellites network.

" I got it, i do hope Belle doesn't mind me using the belle Bot as a relay... but, that should reconnect Restoration communications. Also you should be able to use the belle bot's signal to connect to the satellite using it as a proxy. That should limit any risk to your own equipment... "

Not that there was any risk to begin with, but he hoped it quelled Kit's paranoia.

" I... know i probably shouldn't even say anything. But... I'm Sorry you know, for everything that's happened... Deep down i guess i just want to find some middle ground for you and I... I just want us to be able to talk ... work this all out somehow. "

He sighed and gave Kit a side glance with one of his ears falling over

" When this is over... do you think... we can talk? Not asking for anything else... just a chance for us to talk, "

Surge scowls at Sonic, her lightning changing dark red as her strength seemed to double, maybe even more as she held him in place. The tenrec then punched the wall right next to the hedgehog's head, easily cracking it deeply which traveled high up the wall. "Yeah, because you look like in such a talkative mood right now. Don't try to play me for a fucking fool. I know everything about you, remember?" A face the speedster still hated, though it was the truth.

"Don't think I've been sitting on my ass all this time with The Restoration. I've been training and have a bunch of new skills so if you think you can just fight me off easily then you're dead wrong." Surge figured a long time ago Sonic never took their first fights too seriously, attempting to talk her down. Things were different this time around with abilities she's unlocked.

Surge ear twitches hearing Tails on the intercom attempting to talk Sonic down as well. "You also promised me something, and I expect you to keep it. Can't do that if you get thrown in a GUN cell with me." The tenrec was sure she wouldn't be getting your average cell, though not the time to think about that.

Surge finally let Sonic go, hoping he had calmed down enough to not sprint off again. "You want to thrash whoever is behind this after, then fine. Though I'm not failing him again, and I'm not letting you fail him. Is that clear?" The only person she trusted with that was Sonic by this point, and wasn't going to have him fuck that up. "And if you do fail him then I'm going to break every fucking bone in your body."

===========================================================

"Belle isn't controlling Belle Bot right now. It's most likely just running off basic functions as it's still in the early stages. That said, it is combat ready so if need be it'll go into on the offensive and I don't think GUN will have a fun time." Kitsunami was sure it could tear through several GUN squads without slowing down if need be.

"No, Starline was completely obsessive with only using Eggtech for my hydro-pack even when there were moments where getting GUN tech would've made it easier than rebuilding parts from Eggtech scraps." Even to the bitter end Starline was obsessed with Eggman. "Though I've since upgraded to be all custom parts working out and Eggtech. I also stayed away from GUN tech." Not worth the risk of them realizing he had stolen some of their tech.

"Try to hook up the coms to something portable so we can hurry on to my room. As much as I'd prefer to do this on my own I have no clue about GUN firewalls. Don't get the wrong idea, this is just to help Surge as best as I can." Kitsunami still seemed more worried about helping Surge than anything else, despite Starline being gone for so long.

[ask-ursa-tonypeter]

[fic: wicked love] Peter, have you thought about college yet? Like, where will you go and how it might affect your relationship with Tony? Have you talked about it with him at all?

Ugh, yeah, I already got my acceptance letter from MIT before we really knew what was going on with my coughing. Dad still wants me to go, and-- I get it, it's MIT, but it sucks that we're going to have to be long-distance? I'm kind of worried about it. …I'm really worried about it. I'll miss him a lot, and I just-- things are so complicated, it seems like we should take some time to get sort of settled before making a change like that, right?

I told him I could always do a year at Columbia and then transfer to MIT so we had more time before I leave, and he asked if I'd even be considering that if I was with anyone else, and… he's right that I really wouldn't? So he said he doesn't want to hold me back and-- it's just so messy!

I'm afraid… I'm afraid he's going to talk himself out of it while I'm gone, and if that's what he really wants then that's fine, but if it's just, y'know-- him being hard on himself and deciding he can't be good for me all on his own without talking to me, then that's-- ugh. I don't know. He said he wouldn't just spring something on me like that, and that helps, but-- it was just so awful when he was in California before and I don't want it to feel like that again.

We'll… we'll just have to talk about it, I guess. Um, I hope that answers your question.

[medicinemane]

The world is set on prescriptivism and... it doesn't jive with me

[alphascnsual]

As the two finally exited Alexander's office; they were the image of a glowing pair- all smiles and pure delight. Nobody could guess from looking at the two that one of them was a cold-blooded serial killer and the other was under a months-long hypnotically induced sex haze. Alexander made quick. precise work of cleaning the office- using bleach wipes and neatening everything back to where it had been before their tryst, erasing any evidence of Connor being there. He then gathered the very few important items from his office- namely his laptop and his file on Connor; those were the only two things that connected him to anything more than being a regular counsellor. He stored both things in an expensive leather briefcase that held everything else he truly needed, which again, was minimal as the sociopath had planned and lived carefully to appear normal but was prepared to disappear without a trace at a moment's notice.

The campus was quiet- since the killings had ramped up so much, people were afraid to simply be out-and-about on their own so nobody was really around to see the two leaving together. Nobody noticed Alexander walking his mindless lover to his dorm room to help collect his bare essentials. He couldn't help but run a hand along Connor's bed, "The amount of times I've watched you jerk off right here ..." he mused with a smile, "The amount of times I've slipped in here to steal your underwear or smell your pillowcase ..." he sighed blissfully as though he spoke of the most normal, delightful memories. "Just toss your things in here-" he instructed, snapping out of his daze for a bit to focus on the task at hand and tossing a black duffel bag on the bed, "Don't worry- We'll get you much nicer things; things fit for my beautiful bitch boy," he smiled, "We just need to make it look like you left of your own accord in case somebody decides to be a pain and come snooping," he explained with a sigh, now and then shaking his head and letting the younger boy know what to pack and what to abandon, leaving only college study-related items and other things that were unimportant. Connor's purpose in life would be him from now on, he wouldn't have need for material belongings.

He opened Connor's laptop while the other packed and emailed administration a notice that he was leaving the school and quitting his program before snapping the device closed and tossing it into the bag as well- he'd destroy it eventually, anything that could be used to trace Connor's whereabouts from this point would soon be taken care of. Once they were packed, including the spyware he'd planted across the dorm room, Alexander resisted the powerful urge to fuck Connor again as an poetic 'goodbye' to his former life and as a fulfilment to the fantasy he'd long had of doing that right here while watching the other through his secret cameras but his emotionless, computer-like brain told him they didn't have the time and it was risky to contaminate a scene with their joined DNA and also there was no time to waste.

Soon, Alexander escorted them to his vintage but unassuming vehicle, loading their belongings into the back, opening the door to usher Connor into the passenger seat, and then letting himself in and taking off into the early evening light. Once they'd hit the highway, it was all Connor could do not to let out a massive yell of accomplishment; he'd done it. He'd actually fucking done it. He looked over at Connor with a wicked grin and took his hand, kissing the back of it. All these long, arduous months of careful planning and ruthless killing had paid off- he'd won his prize. Connor was his and his alone. The thrill and the realization of it all were some of the first and only things Alexander had ever really felt and that was how his brain convinced him that this wasn't some heinous crime or psychopathic spiral- this was destiny. His blood was pumping and the excitement now manifested itself in another way ...

"Baby ..." he cooed over to Connor, "Be a good little boy and take care of this, will you?" he hummed casually before using his free hand that wasn't on the steering wheel and reaching it behind Connor's head, then pulling the other down and across their seats so that the other's head was in his lap, face-to-face with a his hard and pulsing crotch, still tucked beneath the layers of his clothing, "Remember ... 'No thoughts ... only Master's cock'."

Connor knew he had lost this fight. His deepest desires, the carnal needs that went beyond all reason, had won out. At least for now - but did it make a difference? Even if his suppressed consciousness, the part of him that was able to form enough proper thoughts to see Alexander for what he was and what he'd done, was to regain enough strength to take back over - a line had been crossed that he couldn't come back from. He had given himself up, had allowed a monster, a psychopath to claim him, to use and take his body and turn him from an abstract object of desire into a very real 'lover', for lack of a better term. In Alexander's twisted mind, Connor surely was exactly that. And in the boy's subconsciousness that had been pulled to the forefront? This man wasn't a psychopath, not a murderer. He was a protector, the one he needed to submit and devote himself to, because that would equate pure bliss. No worries, no fears. No thoughts. The only need he felt was to be taken by Alexander, to be fucked, and while his own body convulsed and came, he felt his only true need fulfilled in the same moment. Alexander's seed filling him, pushing his struggling consciousness once again way back into the locked away parts of his psyche.

His fear, his terror, his disgust - not at Alexander, but himself - was drowned out by bliss, the endorphines flooding his system making Connor push away the horror he should feel at the fact that he'd just had climaxed to the gigantic cock of his friends' murderer pounding him like a living sex doll. Alex's words echoed in his brain like a mantra - no thoughts, no worries. Only the other man. Only being made to feel this ecstatic bliss, only being kissed. Connor did not respond, only smiling softly with his gaze feeling absent, only a whimper coming from the brunette when the larger man pulled out of him. An anxious young man like Connor wasn't exactly having a lot of sex these days, and certainly not with a man as hung and virile as the therapist, leaving the student feel rather empty, almost disappointed at the sensation of the other's seed spilling out of his tightness, clenching his entrance not to lose Alexander's gift, eagerly licking every last drop off of the man's fingers when he fed the cum to him.

He heard every word Alexander said, although seeming rather absent-minded upon the madman's monologue about finding them a proper home. Connor's instinctive urge to flee, to run from the other and go to the police, had resigned for the moment, barely struggling to even come to the forefront of the young man's mind. Instead, he smiled with oddly empty eyes, happy that all his reasons for worry and anxiety were gone. He let Alexander dress him, still feeling the warmth of the man's cum inside him, and internalized the sociopath's words as he repeated them like he was being indoctrinated. "Nothing else matters except being a good boy for Master." Humming happily, he nodded as Alex said it was time to go - not that Connor had any clue where they were going. That wasn't for him to worry about. Master would take care of it.

[found-pham-ily]

I love supportive parents Fentons. We're they good parents? Not always but they are trying. More so now that they knew how they'd failed Danny. They did a 180 on their research going from Ghost are evil to ghost are just people. Though some ghost wish they still just acted violently rather then stalking them to ask so *so* many questions.

Danny is happy, his parents are trying and while the GIW are still around as a nuisance he doesn't see then as actually a threat. Everyone in Amity had started treating him better both in and out of Phantom form. He is thriving.

Enter Constantine, there on league business. That business is decommissioning the GIW. The acts had been repealed and the group was supposed to cease activity. But they kept those things from Amity park and everyone there. How the league found out about it was just superman overhearing the agents brag about how they still worked in Amity.

Constantine had a fine time with the civilians there until he mentioned working for the league. Suddenly everyone turns on him. They don't harm him but they ice him out, over charge anything he buys, and hurl insults. He was also pretty sure his string of bad luck was caused by them too not just the obvious things.

So the hellblazer has no choice but to ask the local heros. Phantom tell him to leave, that he had it all covered. Red huntress is luckily more forth coming. If by forth coming you meant telling the truth while insulting a person and group so bad it makes him want to retire. Seriously he knew teens could be vicious but this is special levels of vitriol.

Once he finds out the situation, he can feel a migraine coming on. Not only did the league not answer a call for help repeatedly, but the local heros were two teens who think the league was for the anti-ecto acts. Plus neither of them were *good* at hiding their identities. Phantom was a palate swap and used a pun on his own civilian name. Red huntress Aka Valerie was *proud* of being red huntress and saw no real reason to hide it anymore.

The town is shocked when the league member in town starts taking down the GIW. Even more shocked when he told everyone the acts were repealed. They don't warm up to him though. Well things are better priced again at least.

As he finishes up and prepared to leave, he is stopped by the town mad scientist. They're smiling at him but he just knows this was about to be bad. Which is only proven when the lady pulls out a note pad and pen and he is being given the third degree on how magic works.

Constantine tries to leave he really does. But the man Jack has him body blocked via side hug he can't escape from. They wouldn't take his non-answers as answers and he felt his day get *worse* when they ask him to teach them.

The Fentons want magic only so they can figure it out. Magic doesn't exist so what ever power the hellblazer has has to be ecto based! And they need answers! It could help their son master his own powers and they could finally join him in fights on equal footing. A family that fights evil together stays together. Danny would be so proud of them!

Constantine doesn't want to deal with possible future magic rogues so he hits his s.o.s beacon in his pocket as he goes for a cigarette. He'd get shit for it later but he could handle a Bat lecture not what ever this was.

[hyperfixating-rn-brb]

The Good Omens Fandom has had a lot of fun recently with the knowledge of Aziraphale and Crowley holding hands on the bus at the end of season 1.

Soo here's everything that went through my head as I learned of it for the first time.

For that entire scene, Aziraphale is really far gone. He's dissociating so hard he can't even realize he's been sitting on a sword. Crowley is probably the only thing keeping him grounded.

They just narrowly stopped Armageddon after a showdown with literally Satan, and still can't let their guard down. For the first time ever, they're completely on their own side. Now they have to orchestrate a body swap to save both of them. They wouldn't just be killed, they'd be completely destroyed. Everything must go exactly according to plan, but how often does that actually happen?

And on top of that, his bookshop, his home, his safe place with the demon he has to pretend not to love is burned and gone.

Crowley is so incredibly gentle and reassuring this entire scene. He's been through so much trauma himself and has spent a lot of his existence shielding the angel from it, hoping to protect some of his innocence and naivete. Crowley is absolutely familiar with every symptom of PTSD and anxiety.

Now he has to see his sweet angel see such a small bit of the horrors of heaven and hell and start to crumble inside. He's going to do his dam best to try and help Aziraphale through it. Speaking softly, ("the bookshop burned down... remember?) slowly and carefully, gradually helping to pull the angel back to reality, reminding him that he's there and will help ground him.

They get on the bus, and sit next to each other. 11 years ago, they sat nearby but separated while Crowley begs Aziraphale to help him prevent the Apocalypse. Now they are sitting together. Both an act of reassurance and unity.

Crowley sits first, Aziraphale could so easily just sit across from him, behind or in front. But he chooses to sit right next to him. And hold his hand. Aziraphale desperately needs to be near to the *former* demon he loves, to hold him, to make sure they won't be separated.

In the book, their famous lines of "none of this would have worked out if you weren't, deep down, just a bit of a good person" and "just enough of a b*stard to be worth liking" came as Satan rose from the earth, as a goodbye in case they were destroyed.

Luckily, that didn't happen and they survived. Armaggedon was stopped. But the angel is still so anxious of losing Crowley. So he chooses to reach out, to anchor himself and reassure himself that Crowley is still there beside him and that they are okay, at least for a few minutes.

And Crowley let him. He knows how badly Aziraphale needs him, he needs the angel just as much. He knows how badly he craved an anchor and support system as he was first abused and traumatized by his Fall, then further by Hell. So he's going to continue being there for Aziraphale, doing everything he can to make his angel feel safe and comfortable.

Over the next few years, Aziraphale would become so much more comfortable reaching out and touching Crowley. Leaning into him, resting a hand on his shoulder or briefly touching his chest. Somehow both reassuring himself that the former demon was still there, and reminding Crowley that he's still there for him at the same time.

Then Crowley becomes more comfortable with the touch, leaning into the angel by himself. No longer flinching at a sudden graze of a hand or reassuring squeeze.

That one moment of the two holding hands on the bus cemented so much of their relationship. "The last few years, not really..." all started on that bus the moment Aziraphale chose to sit down next to Crowley.

edited: at first this said "new knowledge" because I just found out about this all the other day, and wrote this up at 3 AM, and didn't really fact check when this knowledge became well known. I've only really been a GO fan since maybe 2021, and only really started being active in the fandom during the last few months, so a lot of info that is fairly well known is still generally new to me. soo yeah this was edited :)

source for anyone asking for it!

[multi-fandom-imagine]

I don't know if this would be classed as a -one-hot, drabble or Imagine but can you pls write a little something about: Adam and his 3rd wide (bless him) getting jt on I'm his office and Lute walking in and how they'd all react? I love your writing sm!

A/n: Adam finally finding someone that loves him and puts up with his bullshit.

You looked good, so, so good.

"Fucking beautiful." Adam groaned against your neck, his large hand running down your back as he hovered behind you. Your body pressed against his desk. "Be as loud or quiet as you want babe..."You were perfect in his eyes."I won’t stop fucking and putting a baby inside of you.”

He firmly yet gently pressed you down to against the desk, his hips met your ass, making him grinding sensuously against you.

“You're make me a Daddy, Princess? Let me take care of you. All you need to do is stay still and let me do all the work and stay pretty like the Princess that you are.” Adam's lips grazed the nape of your neck.

"Adam...please." You were so quiet, so cute. Your nails dug into the wood of the table as you rubbed yourself against his hips.

Adam smirked, his eyes narrowing with a predatory glint as he watched you squirm against him. He loved how eager you were. His hans tightened his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh possessively as they slipped under the skirt you wore until they dipped past your panties and into your warmth.

"Such a good girl," he purred, his voice laced with dark desire. "You're so wet for me, baby. You can't get enough of my cock, can you?" Nuzzling his nose into your neck he could feel your slick folds clenching around his fingers as he teased your entrance, circling his digit around your clit, relishing in the way you moaned and bucked against his touch.

Adam's breath hot against your ear, teeth grazing the skin "I'm going to fuck you until you can't even remember your own name, Princess. You'll be screaming my name, begging for more." Without warning, he pushed two fingers inside you, curling them to hit that sweet spot deep within. His pace was relentless, his thrusts fast and hard.

As his fingers worked their magic, Adam other hand slipped underneath your shirt, his fingers finding your hardened nipple. He pinched and twisted it, adding an extra layer of pleasure to the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. With every thrust of his fingers, he could feel your walls clenching around him, your moans growing louder.

"Come for me, baby," he growled, his voice dripping with dominance. "I want to feel you trembling around my fingers. Show me how badly you want me."

You did your best to keep your voice low but it felt so good. Biting your tongue, his name slipped past your lips as your climax hit you, your walls clenching tightly around his fingers. "Adam...please." You sucked in a breath. "I need...I need you."

Wetting his lips, Adam couldn't help but smirk as he felt your walls clenching around his fingers, your plea for him only fueling his desire. He withdrew his fingers from your throbbing core, leaving you panting and desperate for more. Your body slumped over his desk, legs trembling.

"Oh, my pretty girl," he cooed, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "You're so needy for me, aren't you? Begging for my cock like a good little slut." He unbuckled his pants, freeing his hardened length, and positioned himself at your entrance.

With a swift motion, he plunged deep inside you, filling you completely. He relished in the way you gasped and arched your back, your body accommodating his size. Adam began to move, his thrusts powerful and unrelenting as he claimed you as his own.

The desk creaking under you both as his hand grabbed your hips tightly as his wings unfurled.

"Is this what you wanted, baby?My cock deep inside you, pounding you relentlessly? You're mine. Only mine." His pace quickened, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room as he fucked you with a possessive intensity.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "You're going to take my seed, Princess. You're going to be filled with my cum, over and over again." His words were a mix of dominance and desire, his voice low and primal. "You're going to be the mother of my children, and no one will ever take you away from me."

Resting your head on his desk, you could feel your legs trembling with each of his thrusts.Adam's grip on your hips tightened, his movements becoming more frenzied. He was on the edge, ready to release himself inside you. "Come for me again, baby," he commanded, his voice filled with lust. "I want to feel you clenching around me as I fill you up. Give in to me beautiful."

Your eyes slid closed as you pushed back on his cock as your walls clenched around his shaft as your orgasm hit you hard, your juices coating him.

Adam groaned as he felt your walls clenching around him, your orgasm rippling through your body. The sensation of your juices coating his cock only heightened his pleasure, driving him closer to his own release. He continued to thrust into you, riding out the waves of your orgasm, relishing in the way you tightened around him.

"You feel so fucking good, baby," he growled, his voice laced with raw desire. He quickened his pace, the sound of his hips slapping against yours filling the room. With each thrust, he felt his own climax building, the pleasure coiling tightly in his core.

He could feel the heat building in his loins, the familiar pressure building to its breaking point. "I'm going to fill you up, beautiful," he grunted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "You're going to take every last drop of my cum."

With one final, powerful thrust, Adam reached his peak. He released himself inside you, his hot seed filling your depths. His body shook with the force of his orgasm, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He remained buried inside you, relishing in the intimate connection between you.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, Adam pulled out of you, his spent length glistening with a mixture of your juices and his cum. He leaned down, pressing a possessive kiss to your lips. "You're mine." he whispered, his voice filled with a possessive intensity. "And I'll make sure everyone knows it." Giving you anther kiss, Adam let his cock glide across your slick entrance again.

Panting, a weak laugh escaped your lips though you didn't get a chance to speak as the door flung open.

"Adam...I have those files...what the fuck!"Lute's eyes went wide as she turned her face away.

Tensing, Adam rolled his eyes as his wings covered your body. "What?! Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Can't you lock your damn door?" Lute growled out then stormed off as she slammed the door shut.

Groaning, you shifted your body so your face was buried in his chest. "I will never be able to look her in the face again."

"You're so cute babe, all embarrassed and shit. It's making me hard again."

Shaking your head, you scowled up at him as you grasped his robe tightly. "At least lock your damn door so no one can walk in on us again."

"You're no fun."

"Adam!"

"Fine!"

[penkura]

OP Men Holding Their Firstborn for the First Time

Note: This is in relation to my post of headcanons for these five men and their children. I just started thinking of which ones of them will cry, who will freak out over holding a tiny baby, who may reject the thought at first. And it came to this lol. I think the next one in this series will be names for the kids or babies taking their first steps! The baby fever is strong help. For now, please enjoy these men being soft about their offspring!

Ace almost has a heart attack when you try to pass your daughter to him, he swears he felt his heart jump into his throat when you ask if he wants to hold her, saying no that he's fine for now, but you insist he should. He doesn't do so for several hours, instead watching you with her as he works up the courage to have her in his arms.

What if my powers activate and I burn her? What if she cries and kicks? Oh lord, what I drop her??

"Ace, please. You need to hold her."

The look on your face, like you're begging him to hold her, finally makes Ace agree, sitting on the edge of your hospital bed to take your hours old daughter from you. You remind him to be careful of her head, make sure to support her, and smile when you finally get to see the two loves of your life together at last.

She doesn't fuss or cry or kick, instead staying fast asleep and seeming like she's snuggling into the warmth Ace radiates thanks to his Devil Fruit powers. He's just amazed by her, her tiny little nose and the beautiful, dark eyelashes that brush her chubby little cheeks. She's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen after you of course.

Ace fights not to cry but can't help the few tears that sneak out, wiping them away on his sleeve quickly, the one time he wears a shirt and it's the day you give birth to the newest love of his life.

Gosh, he always knew you were amazing. Now you've given him a family of his own, how could he ever repay you?

"Thank you for her...she's so perfect."

Ace can't seem to tear his eyes away from your daughter's little face, and that's okay with you. She's his baby too, he needs to have some time with her.

"What do you think we should name her, Ace?"

Oh. Oh crap, she does need a name huh?

~~

Law doesn't even have a chance to think about it, he's holding your son immediately after birth since he was the one to help you deliver obviously. Once your baby boy is wrapped in a towel Law hands him right to you before checking to make sure you're doing all right. Your vitals are all normal and stable, he's relived that you're both fine, while he watches you talk to your crying newborn.

You tell him that it doesn't count that he held your son right away since he's your and the boy's doctor, eventually getting Law to sit down and actually hold him as his father instead. Your son kept fussing and crying until Law finally got to hold him, the newborn quieting after a few moments but keeping his eyes shut tight and his little hands in fists as he kept whining.

Once he finally opens his eyes to stare up at Law, it's probably the cutest thing you've ever seen in your life apart from Bepo.

Especially once you catch sight of a few tears in Law’s eyes, making you smile softly as you lean back to just watch them. He's quick to rub at his eyes and make them stop, but the few sniffles you hear every bit tell you he's trying to stop himself from looking like a bigger baby than your literal baby he's holding.

He's never actually held a baby so tiny, not since Lammy was born. And to know this is his son, it's crazy to think about while he watches your baby boy start to fall asleep.

He really does wish his parents, sister, and Cora-san were there. They'd all love to meet your son, and you know he's thinking that, but you hope realizes that all the Heart Pirates are going to love your little boy just as much as his family would have.

And that eases the sting a bit, especially when they all do get to meet your son, and not a single one of them is without tears, beyond happy for you and their beloved captain.

~~

Penguin almost begs to hold your daughter once she's born and you're both stable. Law tries to push him away while he takes your daughter's vitals and measurements, asking how on earth you dealt with Penguin being so clingy the last nine months, which just makes you laugh.

"Go sit with your wife, damn it, I'll bring her over in a minute."

"But, captain--"

"Penguin, just come over here for now."

Penguin sits beside your bed and pouts until Law finally brings your daughter over, about to hand her to you before you direct him to your husband. Both ask if you're absolutely sure you want Penguin to hold her first, until you confirm it, and Law hands your daughter to her father, showing him the right away to hold her, before he leaves the three of you alone for a few minutes.

Penguin is absolutely enthralled with her. She's still fussy from being born, stretching out her little arms and legs, making cute little sounds, and he just can't believe she's finally here. He feels like you two waited an eternity for her to be born, now she has been! She's so small, she fits perfectly in his arms and it makes him want to cry so much.

"She's so tiny."

"And she looks just like you, Peng."

~~

Due to you having twins, you hold your son while Sanji holds your daughter, blubbering like the baby girl was because he's just so happy to have these babies with you. It makes you want to laugh hearing him cry, watching him kiss your daughter's forehead to try and calm her down while he dotes on her and you give your son attention.

"You're an angel, a perfect little gift from heaven!"

When you finally swap which baby you're each holding, Sanji still cries, happy to have a son too! He never really thought you'd have twins, or that they'd be fraternal on top of it! Both are so precious to him, you're precious to him, this little family you've now built together.

Your daughter has his hair, but your son looks just like you to Sanji. He kisses your son's forehead before looking at you and your newborn daughter, still unable to believe this is going to be his life from now on. You, and him, and your two tiny blessings.

"I love you so, so much."

He can't wait to call Zeff and let him know the good news.

~~

Zoro has no worries or qualms or tears when holding your son for the first time. Actually, it doesn't hit him for a few hours that he has a child now.

Your son is so quiet most of his first day outside the womb, sleeping and eating, only fussing when he needs something, but you're able to calm him down quickly. The way you're able to do that when this is your first baby impresses Zoro more than anything today.

It's only once you're asleep and he's holding your son again that it really gets to him. There's another person depending on him now, this one being his own flesh and blood, his newborn son that already looks just like him. His hands are so tiny, he's not even able to fully get his little fingers around one of Zoro's fingers.

Chopper made sure you both were left alone for the day, Zoro taking a bed next to yours and laying back with your son on his chest that night. That's when he realized just how small your baby is. His hand covered the newborn's back completely, his tiny hand fisting Zoro's shirt as he slept, small coos and whines coming from him every now and then. Zoro looks at you for a moment, before back to your son with a smile.

Your son may not have been planned, but Zoro's more than accepting of how his life is turning out.

~~

Note 2: I am absolutely willing to elaborate on these men and their children. If anyone wants to see something specific, just send me a message! I'll be posting more of my own thoughts too!

[sinsofsummers]

sensational

6.9k | joel miller & f!innocent!reader part two

this comes from this request. a few liberties were taken with the details (the reader knows that sex exists, but not much else), just fyi!

summary: thanks to becoming an orphan at age 13, you've lived the rest of your life oblivious to all the world can offer. now that you're in jackson, joel miller ignites something in you that only he can give answers to. warnings: slight angst (mentions of parent loss), innocent!fem!reader, age gap (joel is 56, reader is 25), kind of pervy!joel, smut (18+, mdni!!!), fingering, grinding, reader watches old pornos with joel, slight praise kink, no use of y/n. note: i planned originally to have this be just one part, but even though it ends in a way that i like, i could maybe be convinced to write a second part teehee (part two coming soon!)

You used to love the rain. The way it cascaded down your skin in little droplets, cleansing your body from a hard day's work, and the way it made your hair look so perfectly disheveled.

You craved the rain, until it became nothing but a reminder of the night your parents died.

It had been years at this point, but you would never quite forget how young, and small, and unsuspecting you'd been when they told you to run. How cruel, that time might pass, you might change, but with one smattering of rain, you returned so swiftly to the worst night of your life.

The three of you had been living alone, making your way...somewhere, but they never told you where. Your parents' only wish was to keep you safe, that much was clear. So it shouldn't have been a surprise that upon an ambush by at least ten clickers, after both your parents had been infected, that they'd insist that you run.

"Please, darling," your mother had pleaded, a lump in her throat as she formed the words. "Don't make me beg. I need you to run. Promise?"

Your father was somewhere else, but you could hear him yelling in the distance, in a fight for his life. You were too young, even at thirteen, to understand that those were the sounds of a dying man.

"I'll be right behind you," she'd choked on the last phrase, and in hindsight, you knew she was lying. But in the moment, you'd believed her. You couldn't see the bite she was hiding on her arm, her fate already sealed. "I'll come for you, my love," she insisted, "but I need you to go. Head for the woods."

It was the last time you saw her. You'd turned tail and had run as fast as you could for the woods.

The last thing you heard was a gunshot. A single shot, echoing around you in the trees. It may have been impossible to know, but you didn't need to turn back. Your parents were dead.

If you hadn't found Jackson, who knows how long you might have lasted. Nearing your twenty-first year, you'd proven valuable to the community, and they'd welcomed you in. Jackson was the first home you'd had since you were five.

It hadn't occurred to you that you were years behind your peers in terms of...well, everything, until you met Joel.

Rugged, tan, and sporting a perpetual frown paired with an ever-present crease between his brows, Joel Miller was your patrol partner. You weren't exactly sure why, and he didn't seem particularly pleased about it, but then again—he never seemed particularly pleased about anything.

It hadn't struck you as anything to be proud of, or to boast about to the other young women in Jackson, but they certainly loved coming up to you and expressing their jealousy when they felt so inclined.

"What's he like on patrol?" they'd ask, their eyes wide and lips curled in smirks as they waited for any insight you could give them on his mysterious personality.

All you could ever say over the next four years was a quick, "He's quiet."

Maybe that was why the two of you worked well. He wasn't much of a talker, and after you'd lost your parents, you hadn't been one to waste any breath on conversation, especially when you had survived alone with your own thoughts for almost eight years.

Silence was your mutual understanding. No talking meant no questions, and no questions meant no problems.

And this worked. Until it didn't.

-- -- --

It started like anything started. Quietly, hardly a bother, until it sank into the marrow of your bones and demanded that you address it.

More literally, it started in your shoulders. You'd been on patrol with Joel, a quiet, "Let's go," his only words to you that morning. They were his only words to you every morning, and that day was no different.

Patrolling with him was easy. Like you'd said—no talking, so no problems. You rode next to each other on your respective horses, and there was nothing more than a glance or two toward each other when necessary. It was the only form of communication that the two of you shared.

His big brown eyes had always startled you, looking so inviting in the contrast of the white snow during the winter, but they never showed you more than he allowed you to see. And all you saw of Joel was his dedication to sleep, patrol, eat, and repeat.

You hadn't felt the desire to look that closely at him until some of the girls in Jackson asked you how big his hands were, or what he looked like up close.

"You know," one of them had crooned, not realizing you were unsure of their intentions, "what does he look like without that big old coat on?"

You'd shrugged. "Why should I know?"

Another one wiggled her eyebrows. "Doesn't it get...lonely out there? Nothing but you, the snow, and a big man like Joel to keep you company?"

The faces of those girls, the glint in their eyes, it was something you couldn't quite decipher, as much as you wished you could. So one day, you'd asked the man himself what it all meant.

When you said it for the first time, it was so quiet that you could hardly even hear yourself.

Joel grunted, the only indication that he'd heard you.

Your cheeks burned, but you couldn't find a reason why. This was just Joel. He seemed to know everything there was to know about life; surely he could help you understand this. "Why do the girls in town keep asking me what it's like to patrol with you?"

He didn't answer for a second, but then shrugged. "They botherin' you?"

"No." You weren't quite sure that was true, and knowing him, he could probably hear the lie in your voice. "They're just kind of...belligerent."

His eyebrow cocked. "S'a big word," he mused. "Sure you know what it means?"

Your cheeks grew hot. "Yes," you insisted sharply. "I do read, you know."

He murmured a response, but the wind carried it away from you. You rode in silence for a bit longer before he said, "Don't let those girls get in your head. I think they just wanna get a rise outta you."

"A rise?"

Joel nodded and brought his horse to a routine stop. This was where the two of you always stretched your legs. He reached up to help you down your own mount and set you on the ground gingerly. "You know," he said, as if you should know, but with no regard for the fact that you didn't. "You're still kinda new here. Seems they're still pretty dead-set on embarrassin' you."

"I'm not embarrassed," you insisted again. "I just...is there a joke I'm not getting?"

"Any reason you chose to talk so much today?" was his only answer, which made your stomach clench.

There was no reason for you to be offended, as it was your typical routine to remain quiet unless absolutely necessary, but you couldn't help the way your lips curved downward. "Sorry," you mumbled, "forget I asked."

He was quiet again as the two of you walked at least two hundred paces, stretching out your sore muscles in the snow. It used to be comforting, the silence. It wasn't maddening, it didn't ever bother you if Joel was in his thoughts. You weren't even sure at times if he had any. But all that had changed now; his brow creased more than it usually did, and you wanted nothing more than to ask him what he was thinking.

Joel was the one constant in your life now. Maybe it was a—well, probably it was a trauma response from losing your parents, but you couldn't help it. You didn't need much from anyone, just someone to stay. Joel was strong enough to take care of himself and was smart enough not to make any rash decisions. As far as you could tell, he'd stay.

So how could you be so embarrassed by asking these questions?

"I forgot how long you said you were...alone out there," his grunting voice filled the space between you once more. It was quiet, and he sounded hesitant, as if he wasn't sure how to speak.

"Since I was thirteen," you said mechanically, so familiar with others in Jackson asking the same question.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath. "And you're how old?"

"Twenty-five," you said, feeling oddly small in his presence.

He shook his head. "That's a long time to be alone," he muttered, blowing out a breath.

You huffed. "Yeah, well, I survived. And besides, I've been here for four years now, you know."

"I know."

Again, the silence. Infuriating.

Then, you couldn't help it. "What's...'spooning,' and why do those girls ask me if we've done it?"

Joel stumbled, reaching out for balance. His hand found purchase on your shoulder, and you caught him awkwardly. "You don't even know what spooning is?" He sounded incredulous, as if you'd asked a juvenile question.

The warmth from his hand was astonishing, and distracted you from your embarrassment, if only for a moment. It sank through his glove into your coat, and down toward your skin. Something about the weight of his hand on your shoulder, even for a second as he removed it quickly, was enough to send you spiraling.

Your face burned. "Never mind," you said quietly and mounted your horse again. How stupid could you get? You scolded yourself. You'd ventured too far into this conversation, and now you didn't know how to get yourself out of it. "I was just...never mind. We should get back."

He nodded, but his face still looked somewhat pinched. "Yeah. S'getting dark."

The sun was still up. No intention of sinking beneath the horizon for at least a few hours. You rode again in uncomfortable silence, this time letting it fill the space. You foolishly thought that maybe if you were quiet long enough, he'd forget that you'd made a fool of yourself, that you'd exposed yourself to the truth: that you knew hardly anything about...anything except for survival instincts.

When Joel spoke again, it surprised you. "I didn't mean to tease ya," he said. "It's just kind of a surprise that you're not...that you don't..." he looked over at you, and there was some type of pleading in his eyes, as if he were begging you not to make him say it.

"That I don't what?" you said dumbly, hoping you didn't sound as childish as you felt.

He pondered his next words carefully, and then he hummed, "If you want, I could...teach you some stuff."

"Like spooning?" You felt a warmth in your face as you watched his shoulders hunch with a soft laughter. Your own shoulder burned where he'd touched it, and something bloomed in your gut.

He chuckled. "I don't know about all that," he said, "but I'll help you get...back on track. Would hate for someone to take advantage of your...innocence." It sounded sinful, the way he said it, and the something in your gut pulsed.

"You don't have to," you shook your head, but you didn't even believe the words as they came out of your mouth. "I'll just ask someone else."

"Darlin', don't trust anyone else to give you straight answers. I'm older'n half of everyone in Jackson, anyway." He flashed you a look. "I'll help. Whatever you want to know."

You bit the insides of your cheeks, your stomach turning strangely. "Anything?"

He nodded dutifully, but his eyes had already left yours. Joel Miller, ever the professional. "Whatever you want."

-- -- --

Joel liked to consider himself someone who would never again suffer the shock of surprises. After having lived through and seen more shit than any normal person could, he thought he'd experienced it all.

That is, until her pretty lips had opened and asked him to teach her about all she'd missed. Until she asked him to teach her.

He hadn't really seen her as the picture of innocence until he'd heard how long she'd been alone, surviving with no one and nothing besides her own thoughts and the clothes on her back.

The least her parents could do was teach her how to shoot, he'd thought when he first met her. It was a curiosity that was quickly resolved, as she'd proven herself valuable to Jackson.

Tommy had wasted no time putting them on patrol together. "It'll be good for you," his brother had reasoned when he brought up concerns. "You know, to talk to someone out there. I know she's on the young side, but you don't gotta fall in love with her." He'd flashed an apologetic smile when Joel had scowled. "You're scarin' everyone, Joel. Bein' all quiet and shit...it's—"

"It's what?" he'd asked gruffly. "I don't do it on purpose. I'm a grown man."

This was all true, and he very much didn't do it on purpose. With no one around whom he deemed worthy of his conversation, Joel Miller had become the quiet, introspective version of himself that everyone decided to become scared of all of a sudden.

The way he saw things? It wasn't his fault everyone in Jackson was boring. Or childish.

But her. With her unmistakable will to survive and those eyes that could burn fierce with ire one moment, and soften with curiosity the next...it was only a matter of time before he agreed to do whatever she asked.

He should have seen it coming, especially considering her past. Every time he thought of just how...unsuspecting she was about...everything, he had to shake his head, clearing it of any thoughts that threatened to take advantage of her.

But being ignorant of spooning. He had to clear his throat every time he thought of what that might mean for himself in this particular arrangement. If she knew nothing of something so...palatable, he could hardly help himself when thinking of what else she might be unaware of.

He tried to be patient, and he tried to be respectful, but at the end of the day, he was Joel Miller. From the moment she looked at him with those wide eyes, he was lost.

-- -- --

"What I would give to give that man the ride of his life," one of the girls next to you hummed at breakfast the next morning, her eyes presumably glued to Joel, who'd just come into the cafeteria. You didn't look up at him, instead casting a confused glance toward the girl who'd spoken.

"Ride where?" You cursed your quick instinct to ask questions, as the girls erupted into a fit of giggles. Face burning, you looked down again at your plate. "Never mind," came your almost instantaneous response. You were getting used to having to apologize for your ignorance, and people rarely—especially not these girls—offered their kindness.

One of the other girls snickered. "Why don't you ask him? I'm sure there's nothing much to talk about out there anyway," she said, smiling widely. Her next words were nothing short of a drawl, the complete essence of mockery. "'Joel, what's it mean to ride?'" she pinched her face in what you assumed was an impression of you, and it only made your eyebrows furrow despite your stomach sinking in utter horror.

And then there he was. He'd called your name, and now he was standing behind your left shoulder, hand outstretched to save you.

You were sure his hand had never looked quite as appealing as it did now. The calluses on his palm were raised and visibly rough. For a moment, you stared at his fingers and wondered what they might feel like against your cheek.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, that something arose in your gut once more before you heard him murmur your name again.

"Come on," he grunted, but there was a gentleness to it that made the hair on the nape of your neck stand on end. "Time to go."

The girls at your table were silent when you took his hand gingerly and let him lead you from the cafeteria. You noted the swift wave of cold that hit your hand as soon as he dropped it, just a second later. Clasping your hands together, you hoped in a fit of desperation that you might preserve some of the weight and warmth of his touch on your skin. It failed.

"Thanks," you said later, when the two of you were outside the community's borders. Jackson felt a bit too stuffy for any real admissions of gratitude, you'd decided. It turned out to be a good conclusion when you felt the delicious churn of your stomach at the idea of being alone with him once more.

I'm sure there's nothing much to talk about out there anyway, one of the girls had said. Doesn't it get lonely out there? You were reminded of another's teasing, and this time your cheeks burned at the memory. Nothing but you, the snow, and a big man like Joel to keep you company.

He was big, you considered. When he stood next to you, his frame was almost larger than life, and his shoulders were sinfully broad when you watched him walk in front of you on previous patrols. The sheer size of him was enough to send you into a heady descent.

As usual, Joel didn't answer for what felt like ages, and you'd begun to wonder if he could see where your train of thought had led you. Then:

"You could have told me they were bein' that outrageous," he grunted, keeping his eyes forward. "I woulda helped you out sooner. S'no fun feelin' left outta everything."

It was...odd to hear such words come from a man like Joel. Although, you reminded yourself, you'd hardly spoken to him in the four years that you'd been in Jackson; who was to say he wasn't normally like this? A quiet, brooding older man, yes; but maybe he was naturally like this. One to offer his help.

"If you wanted to help, you would have made an effort four years ago." You let your words hang in the air. You didn't mean for them to come off sharp; it was simply the truth. "I don't need your help," you added, tightening your hands on the reins of your horse and swallowing roughly. "It was fine. I am fine."

He flashed you a look as if to say, is that so? You couldn't help but notice the way the corners of his eyes creased, the only sign of amusement. It was all you could do to keep your eyes on him, although you weren't sure how you were going to explain the way your mouth went dry at the sight of his big brown eyes.

"Besides," you insisted quietly, "you're not my dad."

Joel cleared his throat. Looked down, shoulders tense. Inhaled. "No," he said decidedly. "No, I'm not."

Emboldened by this clarification, you inquired, "So what did those girls mean earlier? Riding, I mean?"

If you could have guaranteed the image of Joel's eyes going wide in surprise to remain in your head for the rest of your days, you would have done it instantly. His forehead was creased as his eyebrows lifted, and despite his position facing away from you, you could see it all.

The way he seemed to wrestle with himself before answering, the way his hands seemed to clench in his gloves. "So, uh..." he started, and then paused again. Mustering up whatever courage he needed, Joel finished, "Well, ya see, when a man and woman love each other very much—"

"Joel." Oh. You couldn't help it when a breathless chuckle left your lips.

He was silent, and when he finally answered, it wasn't a question. "What."

"I'm not fucking stupid. I know how reproduction works."

Joel's chest rose and fell in a deep sigh, and you couldn't ignore the look of complete relief that washed over his rough features. "Thank fuckin' Christ. Didn't know if I had it in me for another sex talk. I'm too old to be doin' this."

"Believe it or not, my parents did leave me with the basic information." Swallowing roughly, you continued. "And I know...I know that men usually...take. It's an assertion of power, from what I've...seen."

He shook his head. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised that you've run into your fair share of dirtbags, even in the middle of the world goin' to shit." He ran a gloved hand through his hair, and you secretly enjoyed the way it stood up. "Anyone ever, you know...take...from you?"

Hearing your own words regurgitated back to you left you feeling fluttery. Shaking your head, you got down from your horse; you'd reached your typical resting spot. "No," you said firmly. "They never wanted me."

Joel nodded. "S'good," he said, and it bothered you to no end that you couldn't understand the emotion in his voice. "So..."

By now he was standing next to you, closer than you were used to, judging by the way his coat sleeve bumped yours as the two of you walked, stretching your legs. "So," you said, thinking up a way to make this conversation less awkward. "I just hate feeling like a kid again. I'm twenty-five, for fuck's sake. There's more than just survival when it comes to living. I just want to know what I'm missing out on," you confessed with a hand on your stomach.

When Joel brushed by your side again your stomach flipped. And what the fuck is that about, and why do I keep feeling it? You asked inwardly, but you were too nervous to ask. Bombarding Joel with questions, especially after you'd just started talking to him on patrol after four years, seeming to be the wrong path to take.

He shrugged, eyebrows still furrowed in thought. "There's nothing to miss if you don't know what you're missin'."

"Yes," you admitted, "but that doesn't stop any of those girls from making me feel like I'm..."

"Innocent?" he murmured, and you thought you weren't meant to hear it until he turned to look at you.

Those big brown eyes, they just won't quit, a voice nudged you in your head.

"I don't want to be innocent," you groaned, throwing your head back. "God, not in the sense that they see me in. Sounds like a damn curse."

The sound of his rumbling laughter, however quiet, sent a shock down your spine and you nearly tripped in the snow. "There's pros and cons, I s'pose," he offered. "It's like I said: I'll help you get back on track. If that's what you really want."

"It is." You stopped walking, took a look around at the landscape, otherwise empty with the scattering of trees. You swallowed, pressed one. "So...riding. It's a part of reproducing, then?"

He chuckled again, but this time it didn't come off as demeaning. It was like he was teasing you, but good-naturedly. "Let's not jump too far ahead of ourselves, yeah? Start with somethin' smaller. Then we'll work our way up."

Joel's eyes were piercing when he held yours in his gaze. If someone watched this conversation, you were sure they'd be able to see the blush blooming on your cheeks.

"Learnin' takes time, ya know," he mused, his growling voice nearly a hum that could have warmed you from the inside out.

You'd made it to the edge of the woods now. This was normally where you turned back, heading for home. But neither of you moved. The bubble of something pulsed again, and you swallowed roughly before whispering hoarsely, "So where should we start?"

-- -- --

If Joel were a better man, he might have warned her what the curse of innocence in a young woman could be. He might have shook his head, stepped back, and told her to ask someone else. He might have taken the reins and turned the two of them back toward Jackson.

If he were better, he wouldn't have stepped closer to her. If he were a better man, he wouldn't have looked into her sparkling eyes and let the question slip. Fuck it all.

"You ever been kissed, darlin'?"

-- -- --

You swallowed. Don't make a fool of yourself, you begged yourself before answering with a quiet shake of your head. "Not many contenders out there. Not any good ones, anyway."

He'd leaned closer to you with his question, and now you could practically see each line of age in his face. Joel's expression was unclear; he could have been pleased with this information or...or maybe there was pity in his eyes. "No," he said with an understanding nod. "No, I suppose there wouldn't have been."

He lifted a gloved hand to his mouth and you watched as he traced it along his lips. The gray strands in his hair glinted off the sunlight, blinking pleasantly in your eyes. That something pulsed once more in your stomach, and there was a sort of realization that came with it.

Joel, you thought. Joel is making me feel like this.

"Will you kiss me?" The words were out of your mouth before you could reel them in.

But instead of laughing, or scoffing, or giving any sign of mockery, Joel Miller inhaled quietly. "You know how much older I am than you?" he asked.

You nodded. "We're both adults, Joel. Besides," you felt a ghost of a smirk come to grace your lips, a feigned confidence coming to save you in this moment of truth. "I thought you told me to ask you these questions."

He sighed. "You're right."

"So? Will you?" you asked, with a small, "please?" coming out afterward.

He moved slowly, something you were equally thankful for as you were frustrated with, but his forehead met yours soon enough. His eyelashes brushed against your cheek, and he let out a shaky breath, letting it fan deliciously across your face. The knowledge that he was just as nervous as you were was not only a comfort; it was perhaps the most attractive thing you'd ever known.

And when you lifted your chin, just a hairsbreadth from his lips, your eyes fluttered closed, waiting for him to meet you in the middle. It only took a moment before he was closing his mouth over yours, and Joel Miller was kissing you.

He was gentle, of course, but there was something restrained about his kiss, the way he slowly slotted his lips over yours as if you might crack under any more pressure. It only made you want more, more, more...

You pressed your hands to his chest and curled them into fists, tugging his jacket to lessen the distance between your bodies even more. You didn't know how you were doing this, how you'd managed to find confidence in what could have easily been a humiliating experience. Your first kiss at twenty-five? With anyone else, it might have been a nightmare.

With Joel, it was turning out to be the most delightful dream.

"So soft, baby," he pulled back to whisper against your mouth. "These lips are so soft for me."

You hummed your response and pulled him back to you, letting him see that you wanted more. That incessant pressure was building, and it wasn't until he had his arms sliding around your waist that you forced yourself to pull back, head spinning. "Joel."

He blinked. "What? Too fast?" He shook his head. "I'm sorry, darlin', you're just so—"

"No, that's not it." You managed a weak smile, but the look in his eye, the question and the undeniable desire—is that what it looks like?—quivering in his brown irises, nearly made you collapse. He waited for you to continue, his hands never leaving you, a courtesy you were grateful for. "I feel...hot." Your cheeks warmed. "Um, there's this...pressure."

His lips closed in a tight smirk, and he squeezed your hips. "Where, baby?" he murmured, and you could have sworn you saw stars outlining his head at the sound of the pet name. "Show me," he cooed.

"Um." You paused, unsure of just how. But with his hands on your waist, his heavy, warm touch melting you on the spot, you took one of his gloved hands in yours and guided him to your stomach. "Here. Kind of."

"Yeah?" he said, and you forgot about the cold. About your horses waiting to be mounted, about your other responsibilities in Jackson. All you could see were his dark eyes that had somehow grown darker as you pushed his hand down, down, down...

"Fuck, babygirl," he cursed, and let his hand rest on the crux of your thighs, just barely pressing on the source of the tingling sensation. If anything, it made it worse, and you let a breathy whine fall from your lips. "You're gonna be the death of me, huh?" he groaned.

You couldn't form words. Just one kiss (a very good kiss, mind you) and a heavy hand on your core was all it took, apparently. You could hardly look anywhere but his face, your mouth dropping open as your hips moved of their own accord, grinding into his hand before you realized you were doing it. "Joel—" you whimpered, and he pulled his hand away.

There wasn't enough time for you to feel jilted, as he tugged you back to your horse and practically launched you onto it himself. "We're goin' back," he said firmly, "now."

Swallowing, your throat dry and rough, you pressed a hand to your cheek, feeling the heat swimming under your skin. "Did I do something wrong?"

You could hardly see him shake his head as he mounted his own horse, looking back at you to make sure you were following him. "'Course not," he called over his shoulder. When you caught up with him, the two of you shoulder-to-shoulder, he continued. "Look, darlin', f'I'm gonna be givin' you your first kiss and makin' you feel that good..." he sighed, his dark eyes finding yours. "I'm not doin' it in a fuckin' snowbank."

-- -- --

The entire ride back to Jackson was painfully long, silent but for Joel's mumbled directions, despite the fact that the two of you had taken this same route countless times in the four years that you patrolled together.

Your eyes were trained forward, and you knew his were as well, but it took everything in you not to glance at him even for a second. If you did, you were afraid that the pressure building in the crux of your thighs would never go away.

It would be unfair to say that you were completely unaware of what might happen when you got back to Jackson, but you still didn't know much, which left a nervous bubble rising in your gut. It wasn't like there were any books left in Jackson that you could read about it, or any movies that Maria would allow to remain in the community's borders.

Again, you got a wave of feeling like this should have concerned you, or at least made you a little anxious. But with Joel pulling ahead, his strong back the only thing you could look at, you felt the knot of tension release in your stomach. This was Joel. After four years—even four mostly silent years—of working together, you felt like you...knew him, somehow. That he couldn't possibly lead you astray.

Sure enough, when you were both within the borders, horses returned safely to their stables, the tension returned. Or had it ever really dissipated?

Joel hovered close to you as you left the stables. "Let's go, darlin'," he breathed, a gloved hand on your lower back as he guided you.

"Where?" you said, and you hoped it didn't sound as desperate as it did to you, the pressure getting worse. "I need—"

"I know, baby, I know," he cooed gently, his head on a swivel as if looking for anyone who might stop you. "We're goin' to mine. I've got the perfect lesson planned for ya, alright?"

It was all you could do to nod and let him push you forward through the snowy streets. If only those girls could see you now.

Once inside, you took a breath. There was no one around, and once the door closed behind you, the silence felt all the more heavy. "Ellie?" you asked, if only in courtesy.

He shook his head, and you bit your lip when you saw him smirk. "Just us, doll."

Joel shed his outer layers, and when he stood in front of you, you realized that this was the first time you'd seen him without his coat. Without his gloves, aside from that morning.

Your eyes snagged on his fingers, and you swallowed roughly when you saw the way they twitched, as if in anticipation for something. Or maybe he was holding himself back, you considered. His jaw did seem to have an impatient clench to it. Hands rough like you knew they would be, it didn't take long for your mind to wander into thinking of what it might be like to feel those hands on your skin.

With any luck, he'd give you the sweet release you craved, however it would unfold.

"See anything you like?" he teased, and your cheeks warmed.

"Sorry," you fumbled for a response, your eyes dropping. You'd meant to clear your head, but then your eyes were caught on his thighs. Specifically how hard the seams on his jeans were fighting to remain unripped. "Um, a lesson, you said?"

He nodded, reaching out a hand to take your own coat off, leaving you in the sweater and pants you'd had on all day. You were sure your hair was knotted and would be for days, but he only smoothed a hand down your face, letting you lean into his touch. His fingers were still cold, but your face was hot and it offered a dizzying sense of relief.

"I could never teach you all this," he murmured, his thumb rubbing back and forth in an absentminded swipe across your cheek. "Not without getting...distracted," he finished, pressing his other hand to your waist. Underneath the thick layer of your coat, his hand felt like a hot iron scorching your skin, despite there still being a few layers of clothes between your bodies.

"Distraction is okay," you breathed, lifting a hand to cup his on your waist. "Right?"

He shook his head, a chuckle lifting from deep in his chest. "Not tonight," he whispered. "Tonight, I want to stick to the plan."

"Which is?"

Wordlessly, he removed the hand on your waist and entwined it with your own, tugging you toward the living room where an old television had been placed on a rickety-looking shelf. "Sit," he directed, and you did so without hesitation. He paused, biting back a smile at your eager cooperation, and adjusted himself.

It occurred to you that as much as you were affected by him, he was experiencing a similar effect from you. His pants, already tighter than sin, seemed to have become even tighter, as a bulge began to grow while he stood just a few feet from your face.

"Joel—"

"No, no," he waved a dismissive hand and went to the television to grab something. He came back with something you recognized: a VHS tape. "Don't worry 'bout me, sweets. Tonight's just for you."

"We're gonna watch a movie?" you asked, trying to ignore the way your heart sank a little. You had been hoping that the two of you would kiss some more, and maybe even...you didn't even know the name for it.

"Not just any movie," he grinned, putting it in to watch. The video started. "A special one."

When the scene opened on a man and a woman in the throes of passion, you gasped. "No way," you whispered. "I thought Maria—"

He shrugged, sinking down on the couch beside you, his knee bumping yours. "She must've missed this one," was all he said.

The woman looked to be enjoying herself, as her scene partner kissed her neck, dragging his tongue from the dip in her clavicle to the curve of skin where her neck met her ear. A cartoon-ish moan left her lips, but you didn't pay it any mind. The sight of it made your thighs clench together subconsciously, the lick of pressure rising again in your center.

"Joel—"

"Shh," he said gently. "C'mere, darlin'." With no more than a heavy hand on your waist, he tugged you closer to him, situating you over his lap. "Comfortable?"

You almost said no; you knew that this wouldn't be an acceptable seating arrangement in the cafeteria (or anywhere public, for that matter), but when his hands landed on your thighs, you nodded swiftly. His fingers curled around your skin, and you could feel every pulse of his heartbeat through his fingertips, poised as if he might spread your legs from where they were squeezed together between his own thighs.

Something hard and solid nudged at your core, and you couldn't help it when you leaned back into his chest, head tilting back to rest on his shoulder. A breathy moan tumbled from your lips, and your stomach fluttered when you felt his chest rumble with a chuckle.

"That quick, baby?" he whispered, his breath fanning over your neck. "You really are a sweet young thing, aren't ya," he teased, pressing his nose to the joint between your jaw and your neck, "fallin' apart for me already?" He rocked his hips forward, his bulge pressing harder against you, and it nearly sent you into a spiral.

You swallowed, your throat dry. The sounds of the movie seemed far away as you opened your eyes and looked at his beard, peppered with gray and scratching at your chin when he leaned over you. "Joel," you whispered, bringing your hands to cover his own on your thighs, "I-I want to know everything." You'd never meant anything more fervently, more desperately, than this.

If you'd known how addicting this could feel, being so close to him, feeling his hands on you, perhaps you would have been embarrassed at the way your hips began rubbing yourself on his lap, hoping for—you didn't even know what could be after this. You just knew that the way you felt was the most intense thing you'd felt in your entire life, and you wanted to keep feeling this way, as long as you could.

Joel tutted, squeezing his hands on your thighs. "Oh, look at you," he groaned, a deep, carnal noise that made your chest constrict, "you're a natural, doll." His lips brushed your shoulder, and he darted his tongue out to lick a small strip up your neck.

Your heart swelled with the praise, and it was all you could do not to squeeze your eyes shut. "Please," you begged quietly, as if someone might hear you.

"I know, baby, I know," he crooned, dark eyes locked onto your own as his hand crept closer—to your waistband—closer—unzipping your pants—closer...there.

Your hips lifted from his lap with the heady sensation of his fingers pressed to a bundle of nerves between your legs. "Joel—!" you squeaked.

You felt him smile against your cheek. "So wet," he murmured, "so slick for my fingers, baby." He began rubbing that spot in tight circles, a slow, torturous pace. "Let me know when you're gonna come, yeah?"

"When I..." you trailed off. You'd never...how would you know? "I don't..."

Joel hummed in your ear, rocking his hips again and releasing a guttural groan. "S'okay, pretty girl," he reassured you, "I'll be gentle. Lemme know when it feels like it's too much. "I've gotcha."

You were too far gone to doubt him. This was Joel. He wouldn't let you fall, as much as you felt like you were going to slide to the floor at the feeling of his hand coming up from your leg to caress your breast, rolling a nipple between his fingertips. A strangled mix between a cry and a moan left your lips, and with one more kiss to your brow paired with a quick swipe of his finger over your ever-sensitive bud—

Something gave way and you jerked your head back, digging into his shoulder. Your legs spasmed and you squeezed your hand over Joel's, holding his hand in place underneath your panties.

"Fuck, doll, just like that," he encouraged you. "Look at you, eyes rollin' back for me. Shakin' like a good girl." His hips tensed beneath you and you felt his chest shudder as he released a punishing moan. "Got me feelin' like a damn teenager, comin' in my jeans."

His fingers stilled, but his hand didn't move. Your legs slowly stopped shaking, and the solid mass beneath you was softening. You let out a sigh, your eyelids fluttering closed. Your cheeks were flushed, you could tell; but this time, it wasn't embarrassment that brought the warmth to your face.

"You okay?" he murmured, carefully removing his hands from their places on you. "Feel alright, darlin'?"

Your head turned, nestling into the crook of his neck. Nodding quietly, you shifted in his lap. "I...I didn't know it could be like that," you shivered.

Joel paused the video, the living room falling quiet around you. Swinging a hand under your legs and tugging you to a more comfortable position over his lap, he raised his fingers to his lips, glistening with the remnants of your desire. Your jaw slackened when you watched him open his mouth, lapping at the tips of his fingers.

"Trust me, doll," he said with a glint in his eye. You whimpered in anticipation as he reached to brush a strand of hair from your face. "I've got so much more to teach you."

tysm for reading! you made it to the end! part two is in the works posted!

[talekinesis]

I need Stan and Ford to see their mom again

Like let's say she's still alive and in her 80s, she's in a wheelchair (ambulatory, she has customized canes) she still lives in their old home because a part of her hoped Stanford would come back, and she didn't want to leave their home, so he'd know where to go back to.

She wanted to stay put in case Ford came back.

So imagine her shock when both her boys come back home to her

Obviously Stan immediately starts apologizing for faking his death, putting her through grief, her arranging and attending his funeral, but she stops him like "I'd much rather it be fake than real." That's her baby boy, back from the dead, something most people don't get, so to her it's a miracle.

Her Jersey accent is thick, and it actually brings out the twins' accents that had faded over time (Stan's sounds natural to him since he always retained it a little, but everyone finds it funny when Ford's accent comes back because he just doesn't seem like the type to speak like that)

THEY MOVE HER INTO THE SHACK

The boys wanna take care of their mama and keep her around since it's been so long, and Caryn is delighted to be moved out of a loud city with rough memories and into a quiet little town where the people are odd but nice. Ford and Stan both work together to make the Shack accessible for her. Ford actually sat in her wheelchair to test everything and make sure she could get around on her own.

They catch her up on everything, and at first they don't think she'll fully believe them but she's like "Stanford built an international portal and got lost for 30 years? Stanley took his place and turned his home into tourist trap? Yeah, that seems like something my boys would do."

When she learns Stan taught himself engineering to re-build the portal, she's obviously very proud of him. "You were never dumb, Stanley, ya just learned different. Honestly, I always thought ya had A-D-H-D but Pa never wanted ya tested. But look how smart and creative ya turned out, son! I think ya did good." And Stan is definitely not crying.

Personal headcanon: Caryn was also really smart and picked up on things quick. The boys had to have gotten it from somewhere, and it wasn't Filbrick. He just took the credit because 1) he was the worst, and 2) times were different back then and no one would have really taken her seriously. But she's the one who would fix things around the house since she taught herself how to keep the place together and running since Filbrick wouldn't pay anyone to come and repair anything.

Imagine little Stan standing behind her with a flashlight while she fixes the wiring in the wall because an outlet stopped working. Both of the boys helping her while she fixes the car for the third time that week because it keeps breaking down. Mama Pines taught herself how to keep things up and running because no one else would or could.

Caryn meets Mabel and Dipper when they come back in the summer, and Mabel is THRILLED

She's technically met them before but they were still newborns at the time so they don't remember her, and she hadn't gotten a chance to see who they'd become

Mabel makes her a sweater and she wears it with pride. And I really think it would go like that scene from Elemental

Caryn: You made this?

Mabel: Oh, yeah, it's nothing-

Caryn: Nothin? Babygirl, my designer dresses were made by 'nothin.' Oh sweetie, you have got to do somethin' with this skill. And to think, I have an original 'Mabel Pines.'

And don't think I'm leaving Dipper out of this, he gets his great-grandma's attention too. She loves talking to him and listening to him tell stories about the monsters they've encountered in the past. She sees a lot of Ford in him, but she also sees a lot of Stan in him in other ways.

I think Dipper's love for "girly" music is something Stan used to share before Filbrick "disciplined" him for it. Child Stan used to sit in the kitchen with his Ma and sing along to the radio, usually listening to whatever she had put on.

Now all three of them sit in the kitchen and listen to the radio while Stan cooks.

Ford feeling like a failure for putting everyone in danger, and Caryn just goes, "Come talk to your mama." And he does. He goes and talks to his mama, like he always has in the past. She's in her 80s and they're grown men in their late 50s, but she's still their mom, and you never really quit being a mom.

I might actually write a short fic about this, I love it so much.

[grimdarling69]

Another de aged Dan and Ellie story or otherwise known as Crack

Pt 1 Pt2

If only Clark hadn't been busy tracking Luthor, he would have been able to save his nephew, his sons best friend.

Once again, Lex Luthor has sabotaged him. He didn't even need kryptonite to do it this time. After Lexs mental breakdown, he had apparently gone off the grid, and unsurprisingly, he wasn't able to hear anything from him. According to the snippets from Lexs staff he had apparently refused to answer to his name, started to hate it, and called his board a " bunch of idiotic bimbos who only appear to work so they could buy expensive cars and whores".

It's definitely a mental breakdown or a possession. Lex doing something to damage his image? Unheard of. Possession didn't seem likely. What kind of person posseses a ceo just to insult his board and completely change their personality? They'd be immediately noticed.

He had been investigating Lex's disappearance for the past month and a half and had only succeeded in not being around to stop his nephew from committing suicide.

Bruce had called out for him, but being halfway across the world he couldn't make it in time, and consequently Damian made it over the bridge and he had been searching for his body for the past 3 hours and he still couldn't find him.

He had never seen Dick so shaken before. Jason had barely been able to stop him from following his brother over the bridge. After he arrived on the scene, Jason started to take his brother home.

"Find his body." He had told him before turning and wrangling Dick onto his own bike

"Stop, Jay. I have to find him. Please... Uncle Clark, please. You have to bring him home. I have to... " He could hear Dick plead with them the whole way back to the cave.

He could only bring their bikes home.

They had now all retired to the cave. He was ignoring Alfred calling Steph and Cass in the other room. Ignoring their desperate denials and begging to be told it was just a cruel prank. Ignoring Dick's full body sobs into Jason's arms, shaking them both. Ignoring Bruce's absent look and ignoring how similar Bruce and Jason's grief was.

Tim, luckily, hadn't broken his leg like what they originally had thought, only popped his knee out at such an angle it looked like it. Alfred had already reset it and listed his usual recovery despite Tim not even pretending to listen to it this time. Duke had already helped him upstairs, eyes red and swollen.

Finally the the tense silence came to an end.

"Did you find anything?" Bruce, one of his oldest and closest friends, asked, his voice calm and steady, his heart unwavering as ever but he knew better.

"I'm sorry."

"Search again."

Just as he was about to fly out again, the elevator opened.

"I found this in Damian's room." Tim hurriedly spoke he was already rushing past him on his crutches to the evidence processing, not even explaining what "this" even is.

"Tim. Explain." Bruce rushing and limped past him following quickly.

Like father, like son.

"What is it?" He turned to look at Dick, he had tear stains but his eyes were dryer his mouth was set in a firm line but he was leaning heavily on his younger brother.

"Tim found something." He responded quietly, and he continued on following his friend.

They sat silently together while Tim and Bruce worked together without speaking like a well-oiled machine firm in it's objective.

He'd say Jason was as still as a corpse with his eyes glazed over unseeing, but that observation was far from appropriate,considering everything.

99% Match found. Partial fingerprints detected unknown. The computer had finally accounted after 15 minutes of silence.

He and Jason waited for Bruce and Tim to tell them instead of jumping like Dick did to get the first look. He doubted Jason could get up, Jason was strong so strong, but he was still so young.

They all were.

Especially Damian, despite all his headstrong confidence and borderline arrogance, he will still only fourteen.

Only fourteen years old and dead by suicide.

He still needed to tell Jon he was buying time by the well-timed expedition of him and Kon already off planet and galaxy on whatever Kon called "brotherly bonding with a little bit of interplanetary fighting and toppling monarchies splashed in and maybe we'll catch a movie on the way home" they had joined some green lanterns to help rescue some new green lanterns who got in between a revolution on accident. He remembers researching for days before letting Jon go, but even just the name of the planet now escapes him.

It all seemed so trivial now.

He had seen what became of Dick and Bruce when Jason had died when Dick had been off-planet, and Bruce hadn't reached out to tell him. He just hoped Jon could forgive him.

"Clark. Where is Lex Luthor." Bruce demanded turning to finally look him in the eyes.

"I'm not sure. Lex went underground a month and half ago. Why? What does he have to do with this?" Clark asked carefully. He had to be careful not to set Bruce off.

" AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN BOTHER TELLING ME? Bruce's voice rose exponentially.

Too late, he couldn't help but think.

"His fingerprints are all over this goddamn envelope. Whatever was inside made Damian kill himself, and you're asking what does it matter!"

"How do we know?" Dick spoke softly, his eyes still glued to the results.

Everybody turned at the same time. Jason's head snapping so fast he winced.

"Know... Know what?" Tim asks him just as softly.

" How do we know Damian is.. is dead?" He spoke again, looking up to glance at them all.

" I know Damian. He's my.. my...He wouldn't just kill himself. He couldn't have. He showed no signs of ever even contemplating it. Not even... Damian would have told me.. Would have trusted me to help him. Lex must have taken him or.. or somehow lured him away." Dick spoke hurriedly or desperate but still completely convinced.

"Chum.."

"FUCK!" Jason exclaimed standing up and kicking his chair sending into the wall hard enough to crack the plastic. His hands shook like they were itching to wrap around someone's throat. They twitched and he ran his hands through his hair, his eyes were greener than ever and glowed so strong there seemed to be a small headlight in front of him almost.

"He could be out there being tortured or worse! And we are just sitting here twiddling our thumbs like FUCKING BABIES!" His voice grew louder and louder until he was screaming into their faces.

"Jaylad-" Bruce started just by hearing that name he knew whatever Bruce was going to say was going to be the complete wrong thing.

"We are going to find him. No matter what it takes. I never gave up on Bruce, and i can't give up in my baby brother either." Tim spoke up, his voice unwavering his heartbeat never stuttering, not even once.

He risked a glance at Bruce. His old friends face was softer, looking at his sons, but his frown was determined, and he tilted his head in the way he always did when he wasn't going to give up.

They were going to bring him home. They just had too.

---------

Crack

Boy, was Damian glad about this storm. He quickly realized that he couldn't use more than one of his powers at one time. He was able to make it to the coordinates of the apparent luxurious island Vlad was hiding out on.

He was expecting actual underground, not just some shell company bought island decked in lead and man-made waterfall galore.

He was absolutely soaking wet and shivering by the time he crashed onto the island. The storm just kept on thundering down on him, plastering his clothes and hair to his face in clumps. He better not get sick from this.

Cold fog escaped his throat, and he shivered even more.

"Daniel! Is that really you?" Lex fucking Luthor called out after he'd been laying exhausted and chilled to the bone in the grimy muddy sand for a few minutes.

"Hey, fruitloop." Was the first and last thing that he said before promptly passing out.

[yvvxs]

Trick or Treat!

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎↪ ft. argenti. arlan. aventurine. blade. boothill. caelus. dan heng & imbibitor lunae. dr ratio. gallagher. gepard. jing yuan. jiaoqiu. luka. luocha. moze. sampo. welt.

You and Argenti would definitely portray Beauty and the Beast. Going around in your costumes from door to door surprising the residents on the area with how beautiful your boyfriend is. Is he the Beast? Or is he the Beauty? Both. Both works.

Arlan would be going around in a silly onesie that the lead researcher had bought for him. Asta had made him go on break just to enjoy getting some sweet treats from any of the researchers, of course, he had to invite you as well. He denied receiving any of the candy, giving any and all of it to you. What was he doing with his pumpkin then? Well, holding Peppy, of course!

Going around with your vampire-dressed boyfriend, Aventurine would easily charm people. He made a bet with you on who'd be getting more candy. You both went together, so you were getting around the same amount of candy. But, somehow you seemed to have a lot more than he did.. Had he been giving you some of his own stash?

Blade didn't wear a costume, or at least, on his own accord. You had to force him, with the help of the other Stellaron Hunters, to give him an outfit to wear. A mummy costume was the only one that would have already fit him with the bandages that were already wrapped around him, just needed to add a few more, and he fit the look entirely! Though, he refuses any and all candy that he was being given.

Almost unrecognizable, Boothill would be wearing a mummy costume. Or what seemed to be the bits of it. Any of the bandages slipped around the metal of his body, falling off easily. Most of which just sat on his hat. Well, it didn't matter, he was having fun alongside you anyways.

Caelus would be wearing a racoon onesie that March had bought for him. She said it fit him, and so he wore it. It had a little pouch on the front, so he can hold any and all candy that he had stole– rightfully gotten.

Dan Heng would have to be convinced by you just to join in the Halloween festivities. He also wore a onesie that March had bought. Fittingly enough, it was a dragon one. Trick or Treating as Imbibitor Lunae was different, you'd decorate the space in between his horns with little spiderwebs. Insisting that it looked 'spooky'. He was sure you were just doing it for the sake of doing it. Oh well, he couldn't get angry at you.

Dr. Ratio had gone as a mad scientist, specifically, Victor Frankenstein, and you, as his monster. He wouldn't say he was fond of these activities, but he couldn't deny that doing them was somewhat enjoyable, especially when you were there with him. After all, even the doctor would have to take some breaks to have some fun. Though, he did make sure you lessened your sugar intake, he wouldn't want you getting a cavity tonight.

Going around as a werewolf, Gallagher enjoyed the trick-or-treating. Though, he most enjoyed giving candy to those who came to the Dreamjolt Hostelry. Seeing whatever costumes that people could come up with was quite fun. He'd sometimes give them a drink tailor-made for them for free as they continued on with their festive activities.

Having been convinced by Lady Bronya, Gepard had gone trick-or-treating alongside you. He was wearing a cheetah costume, bought by his sisters from some IPC members that were selling them. But he couldn't deny that seeing people enjoy themselves on this one day was quite rewarding. Especially knowing that these people were safe.

Jing Yuan was wearing a lion costume, matching with Yanqing, to the teenager's displeasure. The three of you going trick-or-treating was a sight for any on the Luofu watching. They'd give all of you some extra candy, which the General happily snacked on. What a cheeky bastard.

Sitting alongside you on the Yaoqing's streets, Jiaoqiu handed out candy to those who came. Though, he did join the trick-or-treating himself with your help, wearing a werewolf costume you and Feixiao bought. The two of you went along, describing the cute costumes that you saw for him. Despite his disability, he still enjoyed the activity, especially when you were there by his side.

Luka went around Belobog in his robot costume that Hook had made for him. He looked silly, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. It was the first time he was able to go trick-or-treating, and he was happy that he could do it with you.

Luocha was wearing a vampire costume that you had insisted he wear. It matched the coffin, and that solidified the look. He wasn't entirely fond of going around and getting sweets, but he'd gladly do it if you so wished.

Convinced by you, General Feixiao and Jiaoqiu, Moze finally decided to along with you in trick-or-treating. He wore a silly vampire costume that you and Feixiao had gotten. It matched him, you insisted. It'd just be for a day, he supposed, and it wasn't too bad at the least.

You and Sampo had worn matching costumes. A police officer and a burglar, you'd pretend to chase him, but he'd evade quickly as usual. Such a shame the people you two were visiting didn't know he was secretly stealing more candy than he should have gotten. Well, it was for you, so perhaps he could be let off the hook a tiny bit.

Welt wore a robot-themed onesie that March had bought for him, going around the planets and seeing the creativity in their costumes truly excited his inner child. He loved watching them, and you both knew that. He seemed like the person not to enjoy such an activity, but in reality, he did.

Masterlist || Do not repost nor feed to AI. Reblogs & Comments are much appreciated.

[ldrfanatic]

Crawl Home to Her

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader synopsis - you and theo had always been enemies and you thought he hated you until you found out that he loves you so much it hurts; lowkey just quite a bit of fluff lol; enemies to lovers; both theo and y/n come from death eater families and they both have the dark mark.

slytherin boys masterlist works

part two here

Inspired by Work Song by Hozier

"What do you want, Nott?" Your voice rang out and broke the silence of the moonlit hallway.

Theodore Nott had always been your enemy. Since the moment the two of you arrived at Hogwarts, you'd always hated each other. No exceptions. He pulled on the ends of your hair in potions, he mocked you in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he sent stupid little notes to you in Transfigurations that conveniently burned up before you got the chance to read them.

So, yes, Theodore Nott was your enemy.

Which is why you were so surprised to hear his footsteps following you. Especially when he should be in the Slytherin Common Room enjoying the huge winter party they'd thrown.

"Couldn't sleep?"

His smooth baritone voice contrasted your airy one. Still, you couldn't decipher if he was asking you or fumbling for an excuse.

Theodore Nott was cool, calm, collected. You'd learned that much over the years. He didn't need excuses or reasons and he didn't bother to explain himself. It honestly took you by surprise when he answered your question at all.

The first time that you and Theo got into it was the second week of class in your second year. He'd never been particularly kind to you, but he hadn't been rude either. Well, until then. You'd taken to being friends with Pansy Parkinson, a fellow second year in Slytherin who had the largest crush on another Slytherin second year, Blaise Zabini. Blaise often hung out with Theo, who you'd known from first-year, and two other boys you didn't meet until that year, Draco Malfoy and Mattheo Riddle.

The boys teased Pansy relentlessly and you stuck up for her as often as you could. Unfortunately, that seemed to paint a big target on your back and caused them to turn their mischievous acts towards you as well.

As you and Pansy were walking towards the Great Hall for lunch one day, Theodore came rushing by with the rest of their little entourage and drop a few dung bombs on the pair of you. It shouldn't have angered you to the point you felt it necessary to start a never ending feud with the boy, but it embarrassed your little 12 year old self to an irredeemable point.

You turned swiftly on the ball of your heel and faced him. He was wrapped up in his winter robes. A green and silver scarf with the initials TN was wrapped snugly against his neck but provided no protection for his reddening nose.

It was then that you took note of how cold it was in the corridor. The castle often got drafty at night, especially in the winter, and here you were, in nothing but a school skirt and thin sweater. You could still hear the roaring sounds of laughter emanating from the dungeons.

Theodore held your gaze with a pensive stare before taking a few testing steps closer to you.

"You're going to get cold, Y/n."

His use of your first name took you by notable surprise but you masked it the best that you could. It was now year six of having known Theodore Nott. Of having known his family and their affiliations. You caught a brief sight of the black ink on his left arm as he unwrapped his scarf and tugged it around your neck. The image of the dark mark made your stomach swirl, all too familiar with the itching of your own tattoo in precisely the same part of your arm.

The damn thing had, after all, been the object of your frustrations since your mother so kindly gave it to you this past summer. As you remembered the excruciating pain, you stared into Theo's eyes. Something about the thought of him enduring the sort of pain you remember it being makes your stomach twist in a weird way. Sure, you'd known the boy for years, but the same was also true of Draco Malfoy, and you didn't feel this uncomfortable twisting when you caught glimpses of his dark mark.

"Go away." When Theo made no intention of leaving, you turned back towards the large glass window and allowed your voice to crack with emotion. "Please."

The sound of his retreating footsteps echoed down the hall. The laughter got louder as he opened the door to the common room, and then finally, quiet again.

There was only one time that you got the inclination that Theodore Nott may not hate you entirely. Fifth year at Hogwarts was quite unpleasant for pretty much every Slytherin student. After Cedric Diggory's death, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and even Hufflepuff had taken to casually terrorizing Slytherin students in the halls. Whether that be ganging up to hex them or sneering at them from across classrooms.

Unfortunately, you'd found yourself in one of those situations. You'd asked to be excused from Potions to use the restroom. Yet, when you'd finished your business and began to exit, a group of three boys cornered you in the hallway. One of them, you recognized as Cormac McLaggen who asked you out the year before and was clearly still butt hurt about your albeit respectful rejection.

"Well, well, boys. Look what we have here," He stepped away from his sidekicks and caged you against the stone wall. You felt your discomfort growing as his face neared yours. "The little Slytherin bitch who thinks she's too good for everyone else." He laughed disgustingly and began getting closer until his body pressed yours against the brick.

"Tell me something, Y/n. When your parents pimp you out to all the other little Death Eaters, do all your nasty little friends get to touch you like this?" Cormac's words caused bile to crawl up your throat. He reached his hand out to touch you but before he could, a throat cleared only a few meters to the left. You thanked every God you could think of. For once, you were happy to see Theodore Nott's smug little face.

Only, he didn't look smug right now. Right now, he looked ready to send Cormac McLaggen into the afterlife. Painfully. "McLaggen, I swear on every life in this castle, if you touch her, it will be the last thing you ever do." Cormac was an arrogant prick, but even he knew better than to fuck with a Death Eater's son in these times. He didn't say a word to either of you as he took his sidekicks and all but ran from the scene.

You would have been touched. If it hadn't been for the fact that Theo immediately turned away from you before you had the chance to thank him and hadn't spoken to you since that day.

You snapped from your memories when a soft hand grabbed yours. Your head whipped around only to be met with the blinding smile of Pansy. Admittedly, she'd grown up quite pretty over the years. It was no wonder Blaise finally pulled his head out of his arse long enough to finally start dating her.

"Come on, Y/n. The party's pretty much over. Now it's just the rest of us. It's cold."

You let Pansy lead you back to the common room thankful when she didn't question the scarf around your neck. Your relief was short lived. As soon as you were within sight of the group, Mattheo whistled lowly. He opened his mouth like he meant to say something but a look from Theo left the boy smirking into his drink. You noted from his droopy bloodshot eyes that Theodore Nott was intoxicated. In fact, everyone was. Except for you. And of course, Hermione Granger who sat on the floor tucked into a smiling Draco Malfoy's side.

You were proud that you'd been the one to knock some sense into his head. For once, the boy did something for himself.

Mattheo's stare lingered on you before glancing to Theo and then back down to his drink again. "Perfect timing, Y/n. We were just deciding what to do." The thing to know about Mattheo Riddle is that he liked to cause chaos. He was, in that sense alone, his father's son. He especially loved when that chaos causing was directed at his favorite person to toy with. Theodore Nott. The pair had been best friends, practically attached at the hip since first year.

Mattheo Riddle was the only person in the room that knew of Theo's irrepressible love for you.

"I have the perfect idea." He stood on his place on the dark green couch and grabbed your wrist gently. He offered a smile as he lead you back to sit next to him. Conveniently, also right next to Theo.

"Now that the whole gang is here, I hear that our little Theo has a crush. Seeing as we pestered Draco endlessly until he finally found dear Granger over there, it only seems fair that Theo receive the same treatment." Draco made a loud noise of agreement before being shushed quietly by Hermione.

At this point, everyone had agreed and Theo was too intoxicated to stop them. You pushed down the panging in your heart at the idea of Theo liking someone and nodded numbly with the others, attempting to force a smile.

Mattheo's voice rang out again. "Afterall, Theo here is most honest without pesky inhibitions of being sober to get in the way."

Again, you tried to ignore the twisting in your stomach. Hermione, ever the curious cat was the first to speak up.

"When did you start liking her?"

Theo sat quietly for so long you were convinced he was going to ignore the group entirely before he finally spoke up.

"Right after I got my dark mark at the start of fifth year. My sleeves rolled up a little and she saw it. After dear old dad gave it to me, I'd kind of lost all will to even try anymore. Not to mention that my body had not reacted kindly to it. I was burning up a fever. I didn't care much how long I lived. But she was so kind. She didn't judge me. She just smiled and waved."

Your gaze burned into the side of Theo's head. Not only had you never heard him so raw and honest, you'd also never even known he was feeling this way. It made you wonder how much practice the boy had with masking his emotions. Pansy shifted uncomfortably and bounced softly on her arm chair.

"My turn! Is it a friend?"

Theo hummed and took a swig of the drink in his hand. You had half a mind to snatch the bottle and drag the poor boy to bed, but you didn't want to be on the receiving end of his discontent.

"You could say that."

Draco made a noise at his clipped answer but Blaise cut in quickly. The excitement seemed to have finally spread throughout the whole party while Mattheo watched on with a disturbingly intense look.

"You said she didn't judge you for the mark. Does that mean she's a Slytherin? A death eater even?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably at the open talk of the dark mark but Draco's arm tightened protectively around her shoulders. He placed a chaste kiss on the side of her temple that had her body relaxing into his. The type of affection you found yourself craving for.

"I thought I dreamed her. She never asked me once about the wrong I did. Even for a Slytherin that's uncommon. Everyone wants to know. They want all the details."

Recognition passed over Mattheo's face. A look mirrored by both you and Draco. Being the children of such prominent dark figures, all four of you were familiar with the inquiries that Theo was referencing.

Finally, Draco got his opportunity to ask his question.

"Why not just talk to her then? If she's so understanding?"

Theo didn't answer. He stared at the blonde boy for a few tense moments before laughing humorlessly to himself.

"She hates me, man. I know it. I've terrorized her for years." His eyes welled up but he pushed the tears back by draining the rest of the bottle in his hand. "She's too kind for the fucked up person that I am. It hurts knowing that even when I try to be good, she can only think of me as the stupid Nott boy that's been making fun of her since first year."

Air seemed to leave every pair of lungs in the room as the attention shifted to you. A quiet accusation whispered through the air with no one brave enough to actually voice it. It didn't need to be said.

Theo purposefully kept his circle small after his father's torture over the years. There was only one girl that he'd consistently paid half a mind to at all since fourth year. You.

Theodore Nott was in love with you.

Your thoughts were confirmed when Mattheo's eyes met yours with a wink. Even further when you finally took note of all of the signs. He hadn't looked at you this whole time. He called you Y/n in the hall. In fact, now that you thought about it, he'd been calling you Y/n all year. He blew notes to you in class. He even dropped a messily wrapped present on your desk claiming it was from a secret admirer.

That alone hadn't made sense. Inside the box was a pendant that you'd seen walking in Hogsmeade with only the group of people sitting in this room. You hadn't even mentioned you wanted it.

But your gaze lingered on the piece for long enough that Theo knew he was going to buy the pendant for you.

A pendant that rested against your collarbone right now.

Suddenly, the room felt too small. The pendant was heavy on your collarbone. You could feel everyone's eyes on you but you were staring at Theo who'd taken a sudden interest in every other damn thing in the room. The group waited with baited breath before Mattheo broke the silence.

"Tsk. Theodore." He fixed an unnerving stare on you that had you subconsciously shifting a little closer to the dark haired boy on your other side. "With the war coming. You should tell her. I mean, come on. With your father's affiliations who knows what might happen to you. Either of you."

Theo's head shot up and in his drunken state, he wasn't watching how he spoke to the Dark Lord's son. Like at all.

"I don't give a damn, Mattheo. Fuck my father and his cowardly bullshit. I would burn every square inch of this planet to keep her alive." His voice was deadly serious. It didn't waver, it didn't raise. He was cool, calm, collected. Like Theodore Nott always was. For once, his eyes lit with emotion. Blazed, in fact.

You were caught by surprise when his eyes snapped towards yours. His stare was compelling. No matter how much you willed yourself to look away, his eyes pinned you. Your hand reached towards the pendant of it's own accord. His voice startled you. "As far as what might happen to me, when my time comes around, I don't care if you dump my body into the deepest ocean or lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave could hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her."

His eyes never left yours. You stared up at him for a few moments trying to decipher the look on his face. You realized with a start that none other than Theodore Nott was looking at you like he would throw everything away to kiss you right now. Like you were the only thing that mattered.

Cheers erupted from around you as you threw your arms around Theo's neck and smashed your lips against his. And there was no part of your brain that disagreed with him. There was not a bone in your body that had any intention other than giving Theodore Nott exactly what he wanted. All of you.

WC - 2681