#thundery for a time

[universalsatan]

we finally have a severe thunderstorm watch on 😳

[journish]

Today may be the best day of my life. Read more in the tags

[naomiknight-17]

@dentist-brainsurgeon

Exciting times in STL tonight.

[sound suggested]

[burntheedges]

Falling For You - Part 3

Joel Miller x f!reader | 10.6k | 18+ | masterlist | fic masterlist | ao3

fic summary: Joel Miller gave up on the idea of a soulmate at least 20 years and one apocalypse ago. But it turns out the universe hasn't given up on him quite yet.

Part 3: Joel and Ellie made a deal to live, and it turns out there's a bit more left for Joel in this life than he expected.

a/n: annnd we're here! Part 3 of 3. This is the end. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing this AU. I love these two. see tags/warnings below and check the fic masterlist for the full tags. Thank you again @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta!! 🧡

tags/warnings for part 3: fluff, angst, more family fluff, hand holding, dancing, Joel Miller can dance I don't know what to tell you, ogling, kissing, teasing, flirting, so much flirting, pet names (darlin', beautiful, sweetheart, baby), public cuddling? is that tag, smut (kissing, groping, fondling, grinding, oral (f!receiving), p-in-v sex)

Part 3

Joel had never felt like this before.

He walked out of the shop with his hands tingling, mind spinning, tracing back over the ways she’d touched him. The way she’d reached out and held his hand and he hadn’t wanted to pull away, hadn’t wanted to run. He’d wanted to stay right there on that couch, with her, and let her hold his hand. He’d wanted to reach out and touch.

His soulmate.

Something about the way she’d looked at him…

He blinked. He found himself standing frozen in the middle of the road, halfway back to the office. No one seemed to have noticed him standing there, but he hurried forward.

When she touched him it was like sinking into something warm. Something familiar. He had no idea how much time had passed while he was at the shop — no idea how long her gaze had held his and pinned him in place on that couch. How had she done it?

Joel couldn’t believe he’d said all of that. He’d told her, somehow, told her everything, and now he was walking the street in a daze. Something about her, her smile, her warmth, put him so at ease that he hadn’t even hesitated. 

His eyes caught on his reflection in a shop as he passed. He looked down and realized his hands were clenched into fists. He couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel anything but the pounding of his heart and the vice-like squeeze around his lungs.

He didn’t know how to do this.

…

That night on the walk home from dinner, Joel finally managed to get it out.

“Talked to Bolts, today,” he said, and ignored how he sounded like he was being strangled by his own feelings.

Ellie lit up. “Yeah?? And?”

He shrugged. “And nothin’. We’re havin’ lunch tomorrow. Gettin’ to know each other.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Nothing? Were you grumpy at her? I told you your face will get stuck like that.”

He rolled his eyes and swiped over her hair before she could dodge, messing it up. He smiled when she squawked in protest. “You makin’ fun of my natural sunny disposition?”

Ellie poked him in the side and he bent in half with a played-up oof. “Sunny? Sure, Joel. More like cloudy. And thundery.”

He laughed and shook his head. Ellie always knew how to make him laugh. “We just talked. I apologized for takin’ so long. ‘N I told her I told you, so it’s not a secret. Just don’t go botherin’ her about it.”

Ellie gasped dramatically. “Are you calling me a bother?”

Tommy had called her “a bother” a few days before and then had to explain what he meant when Ellie had responded that’s a verb, duh. Her vocabulary was expanding in the most unexpected ways.

“Isn’t bother your middle name?” Joel asked mildly, and raised his eyebrows when gasped again. “Ellie Bother Williams, ain’t it?”

Ellie started coming up with middle names for him in retaliation – Grumpy, or maybe Grandpa. No, Old Man! – and he smiled the whole way home.

…

Joel arrived at Nuts ‘n Bolts just before noon the next day, lunch carefully tucked into a canvas bag he’d borrowed from Tommy. He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders before stepping inside.

“Hello?” he called over the tinkling of the bell over the door. As he glanced around he marveled again at how good Bolts was at her job.

“In the back!” she called. “Same spot as yesterday. Lock the door, would you?”

Joel smiled as he turned and locked the door behind him before heading back. “That ain’t gonna be a problem?” He took his time remembering the way through the maze of shelves but found it easier than he expected.

“Nah,” Bolts called, and he could hear her smile. “People know if the door is locked to come back later. If it’s an emergency they’ll knock.”

He turned the last corner and found Bolts tugging a low coffee table towards the loveseat. “Hi Joel,” she said brightly, and he smiled. “I usually keep this in the office but I figured we’d need it. Might work better here, anyway.”

He looked around. “There’s an office, too?”

She stood up straight and waved her hand to the right. “It’s over there. It’s pretty tiny, but it’s helpful to have a place to keep the inventory. That’s mostly what it’s for.” She gestured for him to come closer and he set the bag down on the table. “What’d you bring?”

“Sandwiches. Nothing fancy, but Priya over at the dinin’ hall told me you’d like ‘em.” Joel felt suddenly nervous at his admission. 

Sure enough, Bolts looked up at him from where she’d just sat on the loveseat. “You told her it was for me?” She sounded hesitant, but she hadn’t lost her smile.

He nodded. “Yeah, um, might’ve said we were havin’ lunch.”

She grinned. “It’s ok, Joel, Priya’s not much of a gossip. You’re just lucky Artie wasn’t there. It woulda been around town before dinner.”

He laughed and moved forward to take a seat. “Didn’t even think about it, honestly. Just wanted to make sure you’d like it.” Now that he was thinking about it he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it then. He felt a sudden tightness in his chest and took a deep breath to ease it. 

“Thank you,” Bolts said, and he glanced at her. She was smiling down at her hands. “Shall we?”

Joel nodded and started to get the food out. He divvied everything up and relaxed back into his seat as they dug in.

“Priya was right, this is my favorite,” Bolts told him when she opened the cloth wrapping around her sandwich. “Thank you.”

“‘Course,” he said. He felt awkward, suddenly, and cast around in his mind for something to say. The silence grew longer as he stared down at his sandwich. He took a bite to stall and glanced over at her again.

She was already looking at him. “What, am I suddenly scary?” She was smiling, but he thought he could see a little bit of worry around her eyes.

Joel shook his head, setting his sandwich down in his lap. “No. And yes. You’re not scary, but this whole thing…” He sighed. “I just… don’t know how to do this.”

“Me neither, Joel,” she said, and reached out to take his hand. As soon as she touched him he felt it again. “It’s the first time for both of us, right? Never had a soulmate before.”

He smiled and felt himself relax a bit more, and marveled at how she made it sound so easy. Her hand was warm in his and he squeezed it lightly. “Alright. Maybe we’ll figure it out together.”

“We will,” she agreed, and squeezed his hand before taking her hand back to eat. “So, you were a contractor before, right?” 

“That’s right. What about you?” He settled in and watched as she smiled a bit wistfully before she answered.

“I worked at a hardware store through college,” she said, “but after I finished I was working as an engineer.”

His eyebrows flew upwards. “An engineer? Why’re you–”

“I know, I know,” she cut him off, laughing. “Why am I working in here? Well, not a lot of need for robotics, nowadays.” She shrugged. “I help out with stuff where I can. I helped with the dam, even though I never did much with hydraulics. But this?” She waved a hand, gesturing at her shop. “This I’m good at. Got years of experience, after all.”

He nodded. “You are good at it.” Bolts looked suddenly shy, and he smiled. “You are. I could tell even before we met, just from the way you do your work. Too smart for me by half.”

“Joel–”

“It’s true.” He nudged her foot with his boot. “Did you tell Ellie you worked in robotics?”

Bolts grinned. “Not yet. I’ve been saving it for a rainy day.”

He laughed, and a warm feeling settled inside of him at the knowledge that Ellie had someone else who knew her well enough to know she’d freak out. In a good way. “Can I be there, too?”

She eyed him. “We’ll see.” He could hear the tease in her tone. 

Soulmates, huh? he mused to himself. He couldn’t deny it – she made him smile. Made him want to smile. He couldn’t get the smile off his face for the rest of the day.

…

Joel went back for lunch twice more that week, and then once over the weekend.

By the next week they were having lunch almost every day, and he found himself thinking of her all the time. He’d be doing some demo or working on some wiring and realize he’d completely stopped moving, lost in his thoughts, smiling at nothing at all. 

Thinking only of her, of her smile, of the curve of her neck when she ducked her head, of the way her nose scrunched when she laughed, of the warmth of her hands in his. The ease he felt every time he reached out to touch, so foreign and unexpected. The way she’d clung to his hand when she told him more about her brother, and the way she’d made him feel able to talk about Tess at all. The softness of her gaze when he confessed how worried he was about doing right by Ellie. The light in her eyes when he told her he was happy Ellie had found in her another person she could trust. The way they both seemed to know exactly how to be there for each other already. 

Sometimes when he looked at her, he could hear the echo of their music playing in his mind. 

He didn’t know he could still feel like this. He was trying to savor it, to actually let himself enjoy it, and it wasn’t nearly as hard as he’d expected.

…

A few weeks after their first lunch, he convinced Bolts to come see a few of the houses he was working on, the ones she’d heard all about already.

“Have to admit, I’ve been curious,” she said as they stepped inside the house he and the team had just finished working on the day before. “I know these were pretty run down…” she trailed off, looking around, mouth dropped open. “Joel! This looks amazing!”

She moved to the middle of the living room and turned in place, taking in the changes they’d made – some new paint, of course, but under that repairs to the walls, a new beam in the roof, and repaired wooden flooring. They’d fixed up the windows and made the fireplace operational. She was grinning and she hadn’t even seen the kitchen yet.

“This is some good work, Joel,” she started to wander further into the house. “I mean, you know the guys, they had some experience. But with you and Tommy together?” She disappeared around the corner into the kitchen but poked her head back around the doorway and grinned at him. “Well, this is a whole new thing.”

He smiled. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “I’m impressed.” She disappeared around the corner again and he heard her make an “oooh” noise in the kitchen.

He felt a warmth filling his chest – of course he liked that she liked it, that she was impressed, but really he just liked the way she looked at him. During their lunches and now, she looked at him and seemed to really see him. It was heady. He could feel himself getting lost in it.

It had been that type of knowing look that had hooked him with Tess, back in the beginning. She’d always seen straight through him. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised, he mused. Thinking of her still hurt, but he was pretty sure he could hear Tess yelling at him – you better not be thinking of wallowing, Miller.

Joel followed behind Bolts and turned into the kitchen to find her marveling at the back window. “Was this like this before?” she asked without turning. It was a big picture window, they’d been lucky to find the glass intact.

“It was, but the frame was rotted. And it was pretty dirty, ‘course.”

She turned to look at him, still grinning, and took a step forward. They were looking at each other, and so they were both surprised when she stumbled over a stray bit of flooring. 

“Oh–” she started, and put her hands out in front of her. Without even thinking about it, Joel stepped forward. 

He caught her, arms wrapped around her middle, firmly holding her up. She was leaning forwards, hands on his shoulders where they’d landed as she fell, toes still on the floor but not holding all of her weight.

Her face was inches from his, and for a moment they just stared at each other. He slowly became aware of all the ways she was pressed against him and felt his face start to get hot.

“Thank you,” she breathed, and his gaze traveled across her face, tracing the lines of her eyebrows and cheeks and jaw, and finally coming to rest on her lips. Every thought, every word, flew from his mind.

Without consciously deciding to do it, Joel leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. 

She kissed him back instantly, and the moment their lips touched, he heard it again.  

He lost himself in it, in the music, in all the new sensations – the feeling of her body against his, the softness of her lips, the warmth of her in his arms. When she broke away with a gasp, he realized they were both breathing hard. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers and took a deep breath.

“Darlin’,” he murmured, and smiled when she tightened her arms around his neck. She liked it when he called her that, and just knowing that she liked it lit up something inside of him that had gone out when he lost Tess. He thought it had gone out forever, but now it raced through his veins, setting him on fire from the inside out. “Never thought I’d feel like this again.”

At some point in the last few minutes she’d gotten her feet underneath her and she was steady in his arms. She hummed and he felt it in his chest. “Me neither, Joel.”

He nudged his nose against hers and smiled. “Sorry I’m so slow,” he said, already regretting the fact that he knew he shouldn’t go further than this. Not right then. Even though he wanted to. Even though he could feel her against him and wanted nothing more than to take her hips in his hands and squeeze, tug her forwards and–

“It’s ok,” she said, interrupting his runaway thoughts, and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. He felt it like a lightning bolt to the chest. “I get it.”

Joel wanted more, though. And he thought he might be ready for it. “Can I take you out?”

Bolts pulled back to look at him, but neither of them released their hold on each other. From just a few inches away, she smirked at him. “Sure,” she said, and he could hear that she was teasing him. He smiled. “To one of our commune’s many fine dining options?”

He laughed. “I was thinkin’ maybe to the Bison. Get a drink, maybe dance a little?”

A wide smile broke across her face. “Joel Miller, do you dance?”

The smirk that took over his face felt both familiar and not, like he was stretching a muscle he hadn’t used in decades. But it also felt right, it felt easy to flirt with her, to tease her back. His soulmate. “Well, darlin’, why don’t you let me take you out and see for yourself?”

…

Joel was taking you dancing.

Joel Miller was going to take you dancing. 

You’d been floating on air ever since he asked, ever since he kissed you. And that kiss…

It had been soft and warm and hot and you hadn’t wanted to pull away, hadn’t wanted to do anything other than let him press you against the wall and do it again. And again. 

You’d had to stop, but you were pretty sure there was going to be more kissing in your future. You thought of little else as the days passed until Friday night. You kept finding yourself humming a familiar tune, lost in the music, mind across town rather than in your work. You had no idea how you’d wait until Friday for drinks at the Bison and dancing. 

By the time Friday rolled around, you’d had to re-sort a new delivery of screws three times because of your own inability to think of anything other than Joel Miller’s lips. And his hands. And the way his shoulders had felt under your hands, the way his hair had curled around your fingers. The way his face softened when he smiled at you, and the way he’d smirked at you when he’d teased you about dancing.

You looked down at the pile of screws in the box in front of you and sighed. You were going to have to do this later, you were absolutely useless.

At that exact moment, Maria popped her head around the side of a shelf, eyebrow raised.

“Shit!” you said, startled. “I didn’t hear you come in!” You took a slow, deep breath to calm your racing heart.

“I noticed,” she said, tone wry. “I called your name and you didn’t respond.”

You sighed. “Sorry, I’m distracted.” You stretched your neck from side to side, feeling some tension release from your shoulders. You must have been hunched over the box for a while. 

She laughed. “I bet! Why are you still here? You can close up shop and go home, get ready.”

You shook your head. “I’ve still got like four hours, Maria, if I go home I’ll be even more useless than I am here.”

Maria clicked her tongue at you. “Well, then, you’re coming home with me. Come on.” She took the box of screws away from you and placed it to the side of your workbench. “I’ll feed you and then distract you while you get ready.”

“I knew you were my best friend for a reason,” you said, and she laughed again. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll pay me back with babysitting.”

You looped your arm through hers as you walked towards the front. “You don’t have to barter with me for that, you know I’ll do it for free.”

Dinner with Maria was exactly the distraction you needed, and after she helped you pick your outfit, you were feeling much better. Still nervous, as you watched the clock and waited for Joel to arrive, but better. 

When Joel knocked on the door, your heart rate picked right back up again.

You opened it to find him looking extremely handsome on the other side, in a dark green, button-up shirt that fit him like a glove, and jeans that you were certain were doing nice things for his ass, even though you couldn’t see it yet. His hair was tousled and styled and you wanted to dig your fingers into it.

He was looking at you, eyes wide. “You’re beautiful,” he said, voice low and sincere. 

You smiled. “You’re looking pretty handsome, there, yourself.”

Joel reached forward and tangled his fingers with yours. “You ready?”

You nodded and let him tug you out the door. As you walked to the Bison, he told you Ellie was having movie night with Tommy and Maria.

“I heard,” you said, smiling. “I had dinner with Maria, she told me Ellie and Tommy have been talking about it all week.”

Joel rolled his eyes and you laughed. “They love those space movies.”

You gasped, playfully. “You don’t? Joel, they’re classics!”

He sighed, and you felt something fizzing inside of you, light and airy. You loved teasing him like that, especially because he would tease you right back every time. Flirting with Joel was so easy and you marveled a little at how quickly you’d become used to it.

He squeezed your hand. “Not you, too?” He shook his head. 

You teased him more as you walked, and before you knew it he was holding open the door of the Tipsy Bison for you. As you stepped inside you noted the Friday night crowd with a few couples already dancing in the middle of the floor. 

“Let’s find a table,” Joel said, leaning in so he could speak lowly in your ear. You shivered as his hand came to rest against your lower back. “And then I’ll grab us some drinks.”

You settled in at the table you found and let yourself watch him as he moved across the room. Your eyes caught on his shoulders and slipped down the curve of his back to – I knew it – the nice outline of his ass in those jeans.

You smiled to yourself. Right at that moment, Joel turned to glance at you and caught you looking. He smirked.

“What,” you mouthed, trying to look innocent. He grinned, and you smiled back. He began moving back across the room towards you, drinks in hand, and you didn’t hide the way you checked him out as he got closer.

“See somethin’ you like, darlin’?” he teased as he sat down across from you at your small table. His knee nudged yours and you took the chance to hook one of your ankles around his.

“Maybe,” you said, and took a sip of your drink. “Maybe I’m taking a page out of your book with those jeans.”

He reached across the table, suddenly looking a bit shy, and tangled your fingers together. “Yeah?”

You leaned forward, eyes darting across his face. He has to know, you thought, and decided to tell him just in case. “Joel, you are very handsome,” you said, tone sincere. “Hot, even. So freaking hot.”

Joel’s eyebrows flew up, and you wanted to lean forwards and kiss his cheek that had just turned a bit pink. “Me?”

“You,” you said, nodding. “I might’ve had to completely start over with some inventory I was doing earlier because I was thinking about it.”

Joel looked at you and then suddenly stood up. You blinked, wondering if you’d said something wrong, but before you could even fully form the thought he sat down next to you on your side of the booth.

He nudged you over with his hip and curled his arm behind you on the seat. He leaned in, and you could feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear when he murmured, “thinkin’ about what, darlin’?”

You shivered, again, and this time you knew he noticed. “You,” you said, your eyes meeting his. He leaned back, but not far, and you were so close you could feel his breath tickling your jaw. “Your smile. The way your eyes crinkle when you laugh.” He laughed, a bit taken aback. “Just like that,” you said, smiling. “Your hands.” You looked down and watched as his free hand slid onto your knee. “Your arms. Your shoulders.”

“You said that before,” he said, looking down to either side at his own body. “My shoulders?”

You nodded. “You are very broad, Joel. It really does it for me.”

He laughed. “Well, darlin’, everythin’ about you does it for me. Everythin’,” he repeated when you opened your mouth. You closed it again and he nodded. “God, you’re so smart, so good at what you do, you know that? And then on top of that you’re funny?” He leaned in and hummed, pressing his lips to your jaw in soft kisses. “And you’re so fuckin’ beautiful. Takes my breath away.”

“Joel,” you breathed, and your breath hitched when he kissed the corner of your mouth. You turned to kiss him fully but he leaned back.

“Dance with me, darlin’?” He held out a hand for you, expression open, eyes full of hope. You took his hand.

“Where’d you get these moves, Joel Miller?” you teased as he pulled you to standing. 

He shrugged, eyes bright. “Come over here and find out.”

He led you onto the dance floor, and you realized a more upbeat song was playing. He maneuvered you into a position you’d seen other people take before – other people who knew what they were doing.

“Uh, Joel,” you said, suddenly realizing you’d never brought up your less than extensive experience with dancing. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

He just smiled and tucked you more securely in his arms. “Don’t worry, darlin’, we’ll start slow. I’ve got you.”

And he did. Joel showed you the steps, slowly at first, and then speeding up a bit when you caught on. He led you carefully around your little corner of the dance floor. You could tell, just from his movements, that he was very good at this. 

Once it felt like your feet didn’t need your full attention, you asked, “where’d you learn to dance like this?”

Joel turned you and you looked down at your feet again. “Been dancin’ like this since we were kids,” he said. “Me ‘n Tommy. Learned from our family. Our mom’s side was huge, we had so many cousins. Every family gatherin’ had dancin’. A bit of this, a bit of that. Everybody was two-steppin’, we’d dance to anythin’. And my aunts loved bachata. Had a cousin that used to teach salsa lessons.”

“Wow,” you said, impressed. “Can you do those, too?”

He laughed. “Haven’t in years, but I probably still know the steps somewhere up here.” He tilted his head. “This is goin’ well enough and I haven’t two-stepped in more than 20 years.”

“Well, I’m impressed,” you said, and you really were. He was leading you seemingly effortlessly, after all, and you’d been pretty sure you were a terrible dancer just 10 minutes ago.

He taught you a few more moves, and before you knew it you were twirling and breathless as he showed you what he could do. Your head was spinning from the feeling of his hands guiding you, his body pressing against yours, his voice murmuring instructions and praise in your ear. That’s it, darlin’, just like that. You were dizzy from it, from Joel.

After a few songs you stepped back, ready for a break. “Let’s sit,” you said, and Joel followed easily behind you back towards your table. He slid in next to you in the booth without hesitating. 

“Joel, that was amazing,” you said, after taking a long sip of your drink. “We’re going to do that again, right?”

He laughed, looking very pleased. “Whenever you want, darlin’. Might be sore tomorrow, but it'll be worth it.”

You turned in your seat to look at him and ignored it when your knee came to rest atop his thigh. He dropped his free hand onto your leg again. It was big and warm and the tips of his fingers were touching your inner thigh.

“Joel,” you said, leaning forward. Your eyes dropped to his lips. “I like dancing with you.”

“I like dancin’ with you, too, darlin’,” he said, leaning forward. “Like it quite a bit.”

You took a breath, and then took a leap. “Liked kissing you, too,” you said, meeting his eyes. 

“Did you?” he murmured, and his eyes were dark as he leaned even closer.

“I did,” you said, and he hummed.

“Didn’t want to stop kissin’ you,” he said, nudging his nose against yours.

“Me neither,” you breathed. “Joel?”

“Yeah, darlin?” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, and you sighed.

“Wanna get out of here?”

Joel leaned back slowly, eyes dancing over your face. “You mean–”

“Come home with me?” You could hear the hope in your voice. Please say yes.

“Darlin’--” 

You could hear the hesitation in his voice, and your stomach dropped. You cut him off. “No, I mean, it’s ok, I know you said slow, Joel, I’m sorry–”

“Hey,” he said, voice soft. He cupped your face in his palm and titled it gently upwards until you met his eyes. “Hey, I was goin’ to say – yes. I’d love to. I just can’t stay over, I promised Ellie I’d be home. Didn’t want you to think that meant I didn’t wish I could.”

You let out a breath, relieved. “Oh, no I totally understand.” You laughed, a bit embarrassed. “I thought you were going to say–”

“No, darlin’,” he interrupted, leaning forward to kiss you once, gently. When he leaned back he ran his thumb over your cheekbone. “You got no idea how much I want to go home with you.”

You grinned. “Well, then. Let’s get out of here.”

…

You flirted all the way home. 

It felt like a first crush, dizzy and disorienting in the best way. He teased you and you laughed, he slipped his arm around your waist and you pressed a quick kiss to his scruffy jaw. 

By the time you stepped onto your front porch your entire body was buzzing like a live wire. 

Joel crowded behind you as you unlocked the door and you sighed when you felt his lips trail down the side of your neck. 

“Joel—“ you sighed. Your breath hitched when he kissed you, right behind your ear. 

“Let’s get inside, darlin’,” he said, voice deep and gravely. You shivered as you opened the door. 

He tucked his arms around you and followed right behind you as you stepped inside. Before you could even blink you found yourself with your back to your closed front door, Joel smirking at you with his left forearm resting on the door over your head. His right hand slid down to your ass. He squeezed. 

“Hey there, beautiful,” he said. He leaned in and kissed you softly. 

“Hi,” you murmured, chasing after him when he pulled away. He looked at you, dark eyes dancing over your face. Warmth was coiling inside of you just from the way he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. 

You felt like a starry-eyed teenager, like someone feeling everything for the first time, but also like everything was somehow familiar. You’d never kissed him before, and you’d kissed him a hundred times. The touch of his fingers sliding under your shirt was new, but you knew them. It felt like something beloved that was coming back to you, only just forgotten. The way his body fit with yours had you teetering over the edge of something huge and new, but it wasn’t scary. 

You knew what you’d find at the bottom of that drop. It had been waiting for you all along, just out of reach. Like you’d just been waiting for the right moment to fall. 

Joel’s eyes fell to your lips again and you smiled. “Can I touch you, darlin’?” He asked, and you nodded. 

“Please,” you said, and he smirked. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he teased, pulling you from the door and walking backwards towards your couch. “C’mere, beautiful.” Joel dropped down onto the couch. He pulled you towards him as if he wanted you to sit next to him, but you straddled his lap instead.

“Well hello there,” he said warmly, hands drawn like magnets to your hips. He squeezed. 

You grinned. “Hi,” you said, and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“You know, darlin’, I’ve been thinkin’ about this,” he said, tugging you closer and leaning in to kiss your neck.

You hummed. “This?”

Joel traced his lips along the line of your neck and teased with his teeth behind your ear. You wondered if he was leaving a mark. “Pullin’ you into my lap on that loveseat. Touchin’ you. Gonna be hard not to do this in the shop, now that I know how nice it feels. Never gonna get any work done.”

You dug your fingers into his soft hair and ground forward with your hips. His breath hitched and you smiled. “Well, the door of the shop does lock,” you said, voice teasing. 

He laughed. “That it does.” Before you could say anything else, he leaned forward and kissed you.

You lost yourself in it instantly. His grip on your hips tightened as his mouth moved against yours. When his tongue teased against your lips, you shivered.

Joel tugged your hips forward and you felt the growing evidence of his interest under you. He was big. He shifted one hand to your back, sliding it upwards until he could cup the back of your neck. 

You realized your hips were moving, rocking in a rhythm you’d started without consciously deciding to. Joel broke off and pressed soft, warm kisses down your neck until he reached your collar. “You feel so good, sweetheart,” he said, and you almost moaned at the new endearment. The hand on your hip slid under your shirt and up your side. “Shit.”

“I love the way your hands feel, Joel,” you said, almost burning under his touch. 

“Yeah?” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice from where his face was buried in your neck. 

“Mm-hmm,” you said, nodding. 

“Well, I like touchin’ you with ‘em,” he said, voice a low murmur. “Can I touch you more?”

You used your grip on his hair to turn his head just right so that you could kiss him. “Yes, please.”

Before the word was fully out of your mouth, he cupped your breast in one hand and unbuttoned your pants with the other. “Lemme make you feel good, darlin’.” Joel slid his hand inside your pants and cupped you. It felt like your entire body flashed hot, suddenly alive. 

“Joel–” you said, but cut yourself off on a sharp inhale when he rubbed his thumb over your nipple.

He hummed. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he said, nibbling a mark just above your collarbone. “Let me hear it.” You moaned when his fingers nudged your underwear to the side and teased along your slit. “‘S that good?” he murmured. 

You nodded. Joel twisted his fingers and almost instantly found your clit. You gasped.

“You feel so good, you know that?” he said. His flingers slid down to tease around your entrance while his thumb took over working you up. “Show me how you like it, darlin’.”

You did – you moved against his hand until you had it just right, and you sucked in a sharp breath when he curled his fingers upwards. Your heart was beating so fast you thought it might beat right out of your chest. 

“Just like that, huh?” He said, voice low and deep as he watched you. “Let me see it, yeah?”

He moved his hand faster and you tilted forward to rest your forehead against his. “Joel—“ you breathed, and he smiled. Your world narrowed to the places he was touching you and the warmth of his gaze, everything else faded away as he drove you to the edge. 

“Yeah, darlin’. Come for me, I wanna see it. Bet you look so beautiful when you do. Come on,” he urged, lips brushing against yours. With every word you felt it stoking higher inside of you, pushing you upwards towards a fall you knew you’d never come back from. It was lighting up your spine and tingles all over your body and you couldn’t get enough. 

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured. He pressed down with his thumb in a tight circle and quirked his fingers just right, and you did. It hit you like a wave that washed over you from head to toe and swept you out to sea. You lost time, adrift on the perfect sensations he wrought from you, until you came back to yourself gasping. 

Joel was still talking. “I knew it,” he said between hot kisses down your neck. “Knew you’d be fuckin’ breathtakin’.”

You grabbed both sides of his face between your palms and pulled him into a kiss. He hummed into your mouth and you couldn’t help but thrust your hips downward against his hand. The sudden overstimulation made you whine. 

Without another thought, you slid both palms down his chest and to his jeans, unbuttoning them. “I need to touch you,” you said, voice rough. 

To your delight, Joel shivered in response. “By all means, darlin’,” he said, smiling. “Ain’t nothin’ I want more.” As you slid his zipper down he pulled you into a kiss. “Been thinkin’ about it,” he murmured against your lips. 

“Me too,” you said, and gripped his cock in your fist. 

Joel made a very gratifying noise. 

“Hmm, I like the sound of that,” you teased, twisting your palm around the head. His eyes opened and he looked dazed. “How do you like it?”

He reached down and squeezed your hand just a bit tighter. “That’s perfect, darlin’, I—“ he sucked in a sharp breath when you reached down with your free hand to cup his balls. “Shit, that’s good. Fuck me.”

“Not right now but you bet your ass I’m getting this inside me sooner rather than later.” You grinned when he laughed, just once, looking a bit taken aback and very turned on. You like to laugh during sex, so it was probably good he learned that now. 

You sped up a bit and watched as he completely lost himself in it. His cock hardened deliciously in your hands and you leaned in to kiss him, imagining all the things you could do together. 

He groaned when your tongue teased his. 

“C’mon, baby,” you said softly, kissing him again. “Get me all messy.” 

Joel thrust his hips upwards at your words and, with your name on his lips, he came. 

His cock pulsed in your hands and you watched the bliss wash over his face with a smile. 

“Fuck,” he said again, collapsing back against the couch with his head thrown back. “That’s already so good, anything more might kill us.”

You laughed. “Speak for yourself, old man.”

He tilted his head back up and smiled at you. “You are not that much younger than me, darlin’. Did I not tire you out?” He pulled you in for a kiss. “I’ll have to go for another next time, then.” He squeezed your ass and you realized at some point in the last few minutes he’d parked his hands there. “Maybe get my mouth on you.” You squirmed in his lap and he winked. “Ah, you like the sound of that?”

You laughed and kissed him again. 

“So,” he said, pulling back. “Baby, huh?”

You nodded. “Figured you've taken a bunch, better claim one fast.” He snorted and you grinned. “Like it?”

He cupped your face in one big hand and smiled softly. “I do.”

You leaned into his hand, just looking at him, and then moved forward and murmured, “good,” just before you kissed him. 

You made out softly for a few minutes, no urgency at all, soaking in the feeling of doing nothing but being there together. 

Finally you pulled away and tucked yourself into his shoulder with a happy sigh. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your head, and you were pretty sure you hadn’t felt this warm and happy in years. You almost dozed off, but Joel squeezed your hip gently, rousing you. 

“Hey,” he murmured, and you picked your head up off his shoulder to look at him. His face was open. “I’m real glad I found you here.”

You smiled and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. He turned his head towards you, lips brushing against yours as you said, voice soft, “me too, Joel.”

…

After that night, you saw Joel and Ellie almost every day.

You kept up your lunches, most days, and then he invited you to have dinner with them– with him and Tommy and Maria and Ellie. You’d been nervous at first, but it turned out there was no need – you and Ellie were friends, you spent time together almost every afternoon when she came to work in the shop, and somehow having dinner together with all of them felt like settling into a place you already belonged. Like so many things with Joel, it was so new and so familiar, all at once – it just felt right. And that was wonderful and terrifying at the same time.

Joel seemed to feel the same, as he’d told you that first day you had lunch together. It was scary, but it was also good, so good. And like you’d said to him, you were figuring it out together.

A few weeks after your date, after a couple more dates and many more lunches and dinners and easy afternoon walks and brief moments behind the locked doors of your shop, you were starting to trust in this new thing you’d found. 

You were humming while you worked, reorganizing some of the shelves to make room for some new inventory, when the bell tinkled. 

“In the back!” you called, and you smiled when you heard Ellie’s voice call out a greeting. A few seconds later her head appeared around the shelf to your right. You turned to smile at her but faltered when you saw the look on her face.

“Ellie? Are you ok?”

She frowned a bit and nodded. “Yeah, um. Can I talk to you about something?”

You straightened up and moved away from your workbench, nodding towards the back. “Come sit.”

She followed you, and when you turned back to look at her you started to worry. “Ellie, are you–”

She plopped down on the seat next to you and sighed. “No, it’s ok. I mean, ugh.” She curled into herself a bit and crossed her arms. “I just… wanted to ask you something.”

“You can ask me anything,” you said immediately, voice firm.

She nodded, which made you feel a bit better. “I know.” she was quiet for a moment, and then continued, “ok, so, I was talking to Joel yesterday. And he said, um. Well I know you’re dating or whatever, and I’m happy about that. I promise. But he said, um, he said you…” she trailed off and you resisted the urge to say anything. You just nodded and gave her some space. She sighed. “I know that people who are together, I mean, obviously they live in the same house. That’s just normal. I get it. But I’m not…” she winced. “I’m not ready— I don’t—“

“Hey.” You couldn’t help but say something. “And that’s ok, Ellie, I–”

“No, listen,” she said, and she sounded so worried, you felt like something was squeezing your heart. “I don’t… I don’t want to take things away from Joel. I don’t want to be the reason he doesn’t get to have things, things he should have. He’s my…” she trailed off and bit her lip. “I don’t–”

“Ellie,” you said, gently. “Listen. You’re not taking anything away from Joel. You are his world, you know that? You’re his kid. You come first for both of us. And I think I get what you’re saying. But it doesn’t feel like we’re missing anything.” You smiled when she looked up at you. “I promise, it doesn’t.”

She frowned. “You don’t want to live with Joel?”

“Someday, sure,” you said, and nodded. “But we haven’t known each other that long. As much as we like each other, it’s still all pretty new. I’ve lived alone a long time, you know? Pretty set in my ways. And we have time.” You smiled. “Besides, dating is fun. I promise we’re happy just the way we are.”

She turned towards you and leaned her head against the back of the couch. She looked so young, curled up in front of you, and you felt suddenly proud and honored that she was comfortable coming to you with this. 

“Ok,” she said, “I believe you. And I’m not, like, against the idea, it’s just–”

“You’re not ready,” you said, and she nodded. “And that’s ok. There’s no deadline here, you know? We’re not on a schedule, and it’s ok if you’re never ready.”

She sighed. “I don’t think it’ll be never.” Ellie finally smiled, and you felt it warm you from the inside. “Just.. not now.”

“Ellie, it could be never, and I’d still be here. For you and for Joel. I need you to know that. I don’t have to live with him to love him. Or you.” You took a deep breath, hoping that wasn’t too much. You hadn’t exactly said it to Joel yet, but you felt like she needed to hear it.

She swallowed, looking a bit choked up, which made two of you, because you were feeling a bit teary yourself. “For me?” she asked, clearly a bit overwhelmed. 

“For you, Ellie. Of course.” You reached out and squeezed her forearm gently. She twisted her arm so that she could grab your forearm from underneath and squeeze back. “Even without Joel, we’re friends, too. Right?”

She nodded. “Right.”

You smiled. “Right. I’m here for you, too. Besides, you’re the coolest kid I know, you have to keep me in the know about what the cool kids are doing these days.”

She laughed and leaned back, and you grinned, letting go of her arm. “Joel said you’d be cool with it, but I had to make sure. I just don’t– I don’t like feeling like he has to give stuff up for me. Because of me.”

You hummed. “I get that. But I don’t think he sees it that way, you know?” She shrugged and you shrugged back. It made her smile, which was the goal. “It’s not about him not getting to have things, it’s about giving you everything he wants you to have. And he wants you to have a lot, you know? Because he loves you. You’re family.”

Ellie blinked her eyes a few times, looking a bit lost. “He, um. A while ago, when we weren’t… he said he wasn’t my dad. But last night, he said, um.” She turned red and looked down.

“Did he say he was?” You brought your own knee up on the couch, half-mirroring her. 

She nodded. “Kinda. Said we’re family, and we don’t have to use the words for it to be true, not if I don’t want to. That he feels, knows that it’s true, either way.” She peeked up at you, still red, as if looking for confirmation.

“Well, he’s right, and he knows what it’s like to be a dad. He would know,” you said, smiling. “And Ellie, oh my God, he is such a dad. But you don’t ever have to use the words for it to be true, for the two of you to know it and trust it.” 

She seemed to turn that over for a minute, looking thoughtful. “I’ve never had a family,” she said in a small voice, and your heart broke. 

You poked her foot with yours. “You do now, though.”

Ellie finally looked up at you again and smiled. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

…

One year later

You walked quickly towards the other end of town, already racing against the clock but determined to eat lunch with Joel. You had a few more orders to get prepped before you headed over to the town meeting scheduled for just before dinner, and it was going to be tight.

(The meeting promised to be a boring one, with nothing scandalous or controversial on the agenda, but they were always more fun with Ellie and Joel on either side of you, muttering to each other under their breath and making you laugh until Maria glared at all three of you from her spot up at the front.

That’s what she got for wanting to be in charge.)

You spotted the house you knew Joel was working in and passed the rest of his team coming out as you stepped inside. 

“He’s upstairs in the back bedroom,” Stan told you, grinning at you as you passed. “Glad you’re here, he’s been grumpy today.”

You laughed. “He’s always grumpy on town meeting days.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Stan called, laughing too.

The stairs had been finished since the last time you were there, and you smiled as you climbed and ran your free hand up the now-polished railing. You looked left and right at the top of the stairs, not sure where to go next. “Joel?” you called.

“Back here, darlin’,” he called back from the left, and you turned to look for him. You found him all the way at the end in the last bedroom, moving a bed frame into place. “Hey there, beautiful,” he said, looking up when you walked in. “Just about done.”

He lined up the frame with the wall and stepped back, hands on his hips, looking over the room. “It’ll be nice to be done with this one, and I know the Martinez-Carlson clan is about to burst out of that two bedroom over by the school.”

“It looks great,” you said, setting down the bag with your lunches and stepping up beside him. He snaked his arm around your waist easily and you leaned in to his side. “As always.” You looked up at him and smiled. “And you know I like watching you lift heavy things.”

Joel laughed, cheeks a bit pink. You loved that teasing him still got him to blush like that. “Should I go do it again?”

You hummed. “Nah,” you said, turning into his arms. “I like you right where you are.”

“‘S that right,” he murmured, and then kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned into it.

Joel broke away and smirked at you. “Thought we were havin’ lunch,” he said, and laughed when you tugged on his hair lightly.

“Well, I mean, if you’d rather eat than–” you squeaked as Joel turned you suddenly and pressed you against the wall beside the empty bed frame.

“Now, I don’t think I said anything of the sort, did I?” He teased before kissing you again. You sank into it, arms around his neck. The shape of him was warm and familiar against you and you felt the evidence of his interest against your hip.

He nudged one of his legs between yours and you tugged on his hair again. He pulled back but not far, pressing a line of kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“Forget lunch,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “I got a better idea.” And he sank down to his knees.

You shivered. “Joel–”

He shook his head as he undid the button of your jeans, yanking them down unceremoniously. “Don’t you say a word about my knees. C’mere,” he said, helping you step out of your pants and underwear. He pushed you back into the wall with his left hand and lifted your left leg over his shoulder. “Now, let me take care of you, darlin’. Been thinkin’ about it all day.” 

Your head fell back against the wall and you gasped as he dove right in. He held your folds apart with his thumbs and licked from your entrance to your clit, soft and dizzying. He took you apart expertly with his tongue, circling the tip around your clit before pressing the flat of it down. By the time his fingers teased at your entrance you realized you were breathing hard with your hands tangled in his hair, holding his head in place.

“Fuck, baby,” you said, head spinning. “I’m– how–”

He thrust his fingers inside of you, setting a pace that you could barely wrap your mind around, while also keeping up a steady rhythm on your clit with his tongue. He was pressing all of your buttons at once and somehow you were already about to fly over the edge.

You tugged on his hair, but he didn’t let up, and you knew what he wanted. He wanted you to come so he could fuck you and make you come again on his cock.

Just the thought of it sent you flying.

“Joel–” you cried, and you would have fallen over if he wasn’t holding you up so firmly against the wall. Your orgasm crashed into you and you surrendered to it, unable to do anything but breathe as it sent lightning down your veins and shivers up your spine.

You tugged on his hair again, breathing hard, and he finally pulled back. You flopped your head forward to look at him and found him grinning up at you, way too fucking pleased with himself, face glistening. 

“You fucker,” you said, smiling at him. “I’ve never come that fast in my life.”

Joel laughed and leaned forward to kiss your hip. “Thought we were in a rush,” he said, and nipped at your hip. 

You squirmed. “C’mere, then, before your guys get back.”

He surged upwards and captured your mouth in a kiss while your hands dropped to undo his belt. “You and this damned belt buckle,” you complained, finally tugging his belt free. 

“You can’t fool me,” he said, leaning down to slip the neck of your shirt to the side so he could kiss your shoulder. “I know you like the way it looks.”

“Shut up and help me undo your pants,” you said, and he laughed. You reached inside and grasped his cock.

“Mmm,” he groaned, thrusting his hips forward. “I wanted you so bad this mornin’, darlin’. Can’t believe we slept late.”

You sighed as he grasped your hips and turned you around. “I know,” you agreed, flattening your palms against the wall and tilting your hips back. “You felt so good in bed, I didn’t want to get up.”

He pressed up behind you and you both sighed when his cock slipped between your thighs, nudging at your clit. “Right where I left off,” he murmured, and you smiled. You’d woken up to him wrapped around you in bed that morning, with his cock pressed against your back and his face buried in your neck. He’d just tugged your underwear down, ready to slip inside when Tommy had burst in through the front door and called for you both to come downstairs.

You were already plotting how you were going to get him back for that.

Your thoughts were brought back to the present when Joel notched his cock at your entrance. As he slipped inside, pressing forward, your mouth fell open. You pushed your hips back, reveling in the stretch of his cock.

“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel groaned, squeezing your hips and holding you in place as his hips came flush with yours. “You always feel so fuckin’ good.”

Joel braced his right hand against the wall, just above yours, and held your hip firmly in his left. “You ready?” he asked, and you nodded. He pulled almost all the way out and then filled you again in one quick thrust.

You gasped.

“Darlin’--” he said, sounding a bit worried, but you shook your head.

“Fuck me, Joel, just like that,” you demanded, and he laughed.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he said, and started up a pace that had you seeing stars.

You pressed your palms into the wall and pushed your hips back to meet his thrusts. From the very first time you’d loved how he felt inside of you, and you never got over it.

He knew just how you liked it, fast and deep, hitting just right inside of you. You were breathless and tingling all over. Joel leaned forward and murmured in your ear, “you feel so good on my cock, darlin’. You know that? Can’t ever get enough of it.” He slipped his hand from your hip to wrap around you, sliding down to tease at your clit. “You gonna come for me again, beautiful?”

“Yes, Joel,” you said, breathing hard as he thrust forward again and circled his fingers around your clit. “Please–”

“Faster?” he asked, and you nodded. His hips sped up and so did his fingers and you lost yourself in it. Every thrust sent you spiraling higher, gasping for breath. “C’mon, darlin’,” he said, nipping at your neck behind your ear. “Let me feel you come on my cock.”

You squeezed him and his hips stuttered. You were so close.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he said, burying his face in your shoulder. “Come.”

You whined and pushed your hips back as you teetered over the edge for the second time in just a few minutes. You felt it rush through your body like a wildfire and squeezed his cock until he gasped, thrusting inside you as he came. 

For a moment you both just breathed, hard, and then Joel slumped forward onto you. You laughed as you staggered under his weight, though he wasn’t even really putting all of it on you. “Tired?” you asked, teasing.

He nodded into your shoulder. “Need a nap,” he groaned, and then slowly stood and pulled out. Your breath hitched as his cock slipped out of you. “Mm,” he hummed. “Messy down here.” You felt his fingers sliding between your folds and shivered.

“That’s enough of that,” you said, squirming, and he snorted as he pulled his fingers away gently. 

“You don’t want another?” he asked, turning you in his arms and gathering you to him. When you met his gaze it was warm, his happiness easy to see. 

You shook your head. “Pretty sure you’d knock me out with a third,” you laughed. “And I’ve got work to do.” You leaned forward to kiss him and he smiled against your lips. 

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, you heard the door open downstairs.

“Shit,” he said, and you both reached for your clothes. You dressed in record time, laughing, while Joel pretended to frown at you. “They’re gonna notice I haven’t eaten lunch yet.”

You laughed again. “Sounds like a you problem.”

He smiled, finally, and kissed you again. He tugged you into his arms one more time. “See you at home later, before the meeting?” he asked, tucking his face into your neck.

“Yeah, baby,” you replied, running your hands through his hair and trying to tidy it. He leaned back to look at you and you kissed him again, quick. “See you there.”

…

“Thank god that’s over,” Joel said as he stepped outside onto the road, groaning as he stretched. “Jesus, they can really talk.”

You laughed. “Joel, you didn’t even listen to a single thing anyone said after they finished talking about patrol training.”

He smirked at you. “You tellin’ me they said anything remotely interestin’ after that?”

Before you could respond Tommy stepped outside. He spotted you and immediately moved over to where you were standing nearby. He groaned. “Well thank god that’s over. You think they ever get tired of talkin’?”

You burst out laughing. You flung your hand out and tangled it in Joel’s flannel shirt to hold you up. 

“What’s this?” Tommy asked, and Joel scoffed.

“Don’t scoff, Joel Miller,” you said between laughs. “Not my fault the Miller genes run strong.” Joel sighed. You straightened and took a deep breath.

“Ohh-kay,” Tommy said, drawing out the first syllable. “Whatever. Y’all comin’ over for a drink?”

You shook your head. “We got plans.” You waggled your eyebrows at him, fighting a grin. 

Tommy made a disgusted face, just like you knew he would. Joel sighed again, but you could tell he was amused. “You know I got a delicate constitution. Why’re you doin’ this to me?” You laughed again. “Joel, why is she doin’ this to me?”

Joel shrugged. “You probably did somethin’ to deserve it.”

Tommy gasped, hand over his heart in shock. “My own brother? Betraying me?”

Before either of you could respond, Ellie popped up out of nowhere, grinning. “What’d Joel do now?”

You and Tommy both startled, but Tommy jumped about a foot in the air. Joel didn’t react at all, just smirked, and you figured he’d seen her coming. 

“Jesus, Ellie,” Tommy said, taking a deep breath. “I’m gonna put a bell on you.”

Ellie raised a single eyebrow at him. “You’ll never catch me.”

Tommy pointed at her. “You’ll never see me comin’.”

Ellie opened her mouth to start another patented Ellie-and-Tommy Show but someone called her name before she could really get going. You looked and found Dina and a couple other teenagers waving at her. “C’mon, Ellie!”

Ellie spun back around to look at you. “Gotta go!” She darted forward to give you a hug, and then Joel. You could see him fighting the urge to squeeze her tight. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”

He murmured something to her before he pulled away, and she grinned back at you both.

You reached out and tugged on her braid. “You know what to do if you need us?”

She rolled her eyes but nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I can come home if I need to, I know. I’ll only be one street over.”

You smiled. It was still kind of new, for all three of you to say home and mean the same place. You’d moved in just a few months ago, after Ellie had burst out with it at dinner one night (oh come on, Joel, she basically lives here anyway. Besides, she has better taste in movies than you, I need her for back up) and it made you feel warm inside every time you thought about it. And a little bit like you might cry. “I know. Have fun at your sleepover, Ells.”

“I will!” she said, smiling brightly. As she turned and ran over to her friends, you glanced at Joel. He was looking a bit misty-eyed. 

“She’ll be fine,” you said, nudging him with your elbow. 

He nodded and turned to look at you. “I know. Just–”

“Just worried,” you said for him, and he nodded. You smiled. “Bet I can take your mind off it.”

“Annnnd that’s my cue. I’m leavin’,” Tommy butted in. He shook his head, hands raised in front of him, palms out. “I don’t wanna hear anymore about that. Good night.”

You laughed as Tommy walked away, and turned to grin at Joel. 

“You ever gonna get tired of teasin’ him like that?” Joel asked, still smirking.

You hummed thoughtfully. “After all the times he and Maria couldn’t keep it in their pants and I stumbled across them? After the number of times I’ve seen your brother’s bare ass?” You shook your head. “Not any time soon.”

Joel laughed. “Alright, troublemaker, let’s get out of here.”

You let Joel lead you down the road towards your house, arm around your waist. You snaked your own around his middle, leaning into him as you walked. 

“Whole house to ourselves,” you said, smiling. You watched him out of the corner of your eye. He hummed. “First time in quite a while.”

“Sure is, darlin’,” Joel said, looking at you. 

You turned to look at him and smiled. He was still the most handsome person you’d ever seen. “What’re we going to do with it?

Joel pretended to think it over. “Well, I got a few ideas.” He winked at you.

You laughed. “Do you?”

He nodded. “Sure do.”

You turned at your front walk and stepped up onto the porch. “You gonna share with the class?”

Joel leaned forward and kissed you, and you smiled into it. It had been a while since you’d heard the music when he kissed you, but that didn’t stop you from reacting to it, to him, just the same way every time. You felt a shiver run up your spine as he murmured, voice deep, “let’s get inside, sweetheart, and I’ll show you exactly what I’m thinkin’.”

You smiled and did as he said. Whatever he had in mind, you had a feeling you were going to like it.

...

a/n: the end 🥹

prev |

[thebearme]

The bros had a problem feeling like they were being watched so they ask if there anything spiritual involved. Merlon then went on a whole thing about prophecys -_-

A tale about holy twins, Marcelo and Luisito being the Gods of fiery creation and thundery destruction respectively. Marcelo being known as the village's red warrior while Luisito stayed home in his green fields, caring for the livestock but when the time came the bros will commit to everything to protect what's dear. The brothers were heroes in their village, sticking together despite their antithesis purposes for the Stars.

It is told that if separated and tricked then the battle of the end of the beginning can and will return.

There was a king that craves all that is not his and so he stole someone who the brothers hold so dear, in the fight to get what right, The God of Thunder Luisito fallen in the battle.

Without thunder there no fire, without fire there no creation, without creation there was nothing.

In order to have light in a world of darkness one last time, Marcelo made a sacrifice, offering half of his life for his brother. They now watch over everything in the night sky, being the source of light in both of you.

Anyway I think you can tell who I inspired the prophecy off- greek twins go brrr

I basically just wanted a proper explanation given to the bros about any prophecy they get compared too like the one in super paper mario Like- what does Luigi feel being the antichrist in these stories? Definitely NOT FUCKING GREAT!

But I don't want it to be all doom and gloom so it's more neutral then "Luigi bad, Mario good" and have a focus on them being twins with good intentions. (btw i still haven't seen all of m&l brothership so if there's something that makes or breaks this hc then idk it yet)

bonus drawing of them as castor and pollux below

[marchsfreakshow]

The Original Nirvana [Tate Langdon]

Fluff? I suppose? Lil drabble

Can ghosts get high? You asked yourself that ever since Tate and you became friends. Well, they can kill and fuck right? Why can't they be high?

I don't know, I was listening to Nirvana and this idea came to me. It's so stupid and silly.

Not proofread !

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

"I mean, it's gotta be possible right? You can kill and fuck, you're practically a general alive human....minus the, y'know, leaving the house and walking around bit."

"yeah but getting high? I seriously doubt I can do that."

"welllll! Let's try it. I'll take a hit and blow the smoke into your mouth yeah?"

Tate barely gave you a verbal agreement before the flame lit up your faces. Eyes meeting eachothers as the joint was quickly lit. A thundery night was just so cliché for tonight. Getting high under the themes of a moonlight and a thunderstorm. If Tate wasn't able to join you in it, that would've made it a waste of a good smoke. "God I hope this works.." the ghost boy muttered under his breath.

Just as he muttered his words, your hands met Tate's cheeks, two of your fingers holding onto the small joint. You brought your friend's face close. He instinctvely let his lips part, and you lightly blew the smoke you held in your cheeks, into his own. Tate took it, but coughed slightly. Wow...ghosts could still suprise you after so long. It made you smile when it happened, but didn't let go of his cheeks. "I think that might work.."

"you think?" Lips close. Too close for comfort as the musk of weed filled the little area you two were sat in. He hummed in response. Hitting fuck it, and kissing you. Letting the taste of him, mix with that smoke you still held between your fingers. Tate's hand instinctvely found the smoke, picking it up and placing it down in your ashtray, moving back against your bed as it happened.

Just following Tate's movements, the sides of your thighs found his, settling yourself down on his lap. Contuining to kiss eachother so desperately. So needily. "...can I have some more?" He asked quietly, barely pulling away from your own lips. With a little smile, one hand of yours rested on Tate's chin, holding him in place. The other picked up the blunt again.

"Straight from the source?"

"...yeah." He answered with a small, nervous smile. It just caused a chuckle from you, and happily placed the smoke between his lips, letting him inhale. "J-jesus.." He coughed again as he took in the smoke.

"mm too much, Tate?"

"n-no...I'm fine."

You chuckled again, kissing Tate. Letting it heat up this time. Hands wandering up your shirt. Little grips on your back, grips on his jacket. Slipping your shirts off, distracting from the thunderstorm outside. "I think I prefer this.." Tate whispered against your lips.

"Cheesy.."

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tag: @babygorewhore / @taintandviolent / @oceanblvd111 / @nahoyasboyfriend / @coentinim / @slutforgarlogan / @briaroftheroses @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re /. @evanpeterspeter / @feefymo / @fear-is-truth / @lacucarachapisser / @marchsfreak / @saintlucretia / @jazz-berry / @t8-ak47

[maladyinpink]

🔊 UNDER THE WEATHER 🌧🎵 - Prequel Haz/bin Ho/tel WAV

ALL PROJECTS WILL ALWAYS BE STRICTLY AI FREE

Sorry for being a bit late on the update dolcezze, I'm in the middle of a flare up, so any responses will probably come later as I'll be resting. Funny enough, I decided to project THAT on Cha-Cha and Lu a lil for this wav. Fibro just has the perfect timing 🤦‍♀️. But here it is! Another haz wav, (the first wav in listening order) a lil musical prequel to the other two. 👀 Request for @sweetlysniffly a Cha/ggie truther ☺️ and thanks to those that beta read. (y'all are lovely)

UNDER THE WEATHER: A mass shipment of supplies has made it's way to the hotel and unfortunately a rainy HELLSTORM has also. Unfortunately, the princess, dealing with chronic pain, didn't delay the shipment in time, causing a bigger pain for the rest of the staff, including her girlfriend.

CW: Rain, Depictions of illness and chronic pain, rough stifled snz, rough cold snz, coughing, a lil denial, emotional comfort and soft caretaking, light SFX, And...YES...a song. (Hella nervy to sing in front of you guys, but I hope you enjoy.)

Script is below, Enjoy Dolcezze!

- Pink ♡

UNDER THE WEATHER - Script

(SCENE 1 - A common misconception that most sinners presume when they arrive was the stereotype, that much like Los Angeles, Hell is on fire year round. They quickly learn the hard way, how to survive through a HELLSTORM. You never know if it'd be a simple downpour or if you're going to be risking second and third degree burns in acid rain. Sometimes candy-sized biblical hailstones will patter down and even snowy blizzards would come close to when the sinners celebrate their New Year.)

(PRINCESS CHARLOTTE MORNINGSTAR, in her usual way, is usually able to find a silver lining in the thundery clouds, at least for the rain, on the chance it isn't melting the skin off of one's face. The rare hellish plant life gets a drink, air is cleaner at least for a day or two and the rain is a reminder of the rainbows that Lucifer described to her in childhood. She has had yet to see a real one. But much like her theories and hope of redemption for the sinners, CHARLIE has held hope that one day, she'd see one. Regardless of positivity she's tried to upkeep, beings of pure light and heat feel the effects of the storms. The cold temperatures and shift in barometric pressure causes an achy lethargy in Lucifer's joints and muscles. And…this is sadly a genetic trait)

(CHARLIE groggily stretches and moans, twisting and cracking her back and legs. Charlie blinks sleep from her eyes, shivered and searches for the other source of body heat under the covers.)

CHARLIE: (pained, sleepy) …Vaggie?

(No answer...)

CHARLIE: (gasps, remembering something) ...Oh Shit!... Fuck, I’m coming, Vaggie!

(Still dressed in her pajamas, she steadies herself and reaches up for her thick red robe. She winces at the dull throbbing in her arms and fingers. Each leg feels an abrupt painful squeeze as she unsteadily walks upon them. She holds onto the bed and wiggles on her slippers as she tries to acclimate to the aching. Medication and sleep can wait. She’s a woman on a mission! Has to get downstairs…Or at least to the hallway. She makes her way down the corridor and sees…)

ALASTOR: (chipper, humming a tune) Ah, Charlie!...My word, dear!...I was wondering if you'd turn up, it's quite late, you know!...A little half past noon!

CHARLIE: (Hastily) Ah! Alastor!...Ah yes, very late…Sorry…about that but I-

ALASTOR: Why with half the day gone by, one would think you were comatose up there...you and your...Papa.

(He sounds a bit hopeful regarding the latter. CHARLIE downplays her pain and tries to regain her footing in the conversation. Her response is polite but nervously laughed out and rushed.)

CHARLIE: Sorry, just a little bit sore and…(yawns) sleepy...But- Uh, Yes…Good morning- er afternoon, Alastor...Not to be rude, but I did need to ask: Did you call in?…About the shipment of supplies?...Please tell me you did.

ALASTOR: I most certainly did, called and checked in with the driver at around 7 o'clock!...

(CHARLIE is relieved…)

CHARLIE: Whew, oh...great.

(...until AL finishes with…)

ALASTOR: Four trucks, fully stocked…Well three...Right on schedule, seems one was hijacked, so Husker will be down a case or twenty…If you ask me, in his case, HA! It's a service!

(He presses the button on his cane for some canned laughter and lets out two little showy Ha-Ha's)

CHARLIE: Oh gods...B-but Al, it's been storming since last night!

ALASTOR: (chipper as ever, despite the bad news) Hm, Right you are, quite a downpour!

CHARLIE: (upset) Damn it! I should’ve told you to delay the shipment the moment it started sprinkling…Please don't tell me everyone's been working out in the storm?

ALASTOR: Alright…I won't tell you…(he chuckles at her whimpers) Oh come come, don’t trouble yourself! A little fall of rain never hurt anyone, and you’ve never failed to find the silver lining. Now if you'll excuse me, my dear, I must away to the tower, scripts don't write themselves! Ta Ta.

CHARLIE: (called out from the top of the stairs) Vaggie?...Guys?...God, Why did we build so many stairs?

🎀❌️🌧❤️✨️

(SCENE 2 - The Hellstorm is still going strong, and HUSK comes in from outside with a box and sets it down with a grunt behind the bar. His muzzle twitches, he’s sniffling and he flutters his wings, shaking off excess rainwater, his wet fur sticking up in every direction. He suddenly stifles a gruff sneeze into his elbow and swears under his breath. )

HUSK: (sniffs)…S’fuckin’ freezin’.

VAGGIE: (grunts, putting down a box) There!...Whew, this is the...last one. Right Niffty?

NIFFTY: (from outside) Nothin' else!

VAGGIE: That’s everything…Now we just have to unpa- Hhh’ghish’chtt! ...Shit.

(She almost drops the box that she’s holding up, and NIFFTY scampers in.)

NIFFTY: Gesundheit!

HUSK: ...I told ya, y'didn't need to go to all that trouble, gonna fuckin' catch your death.

(HUSK's voice is filled with tough love and concern as he eyes VAGGIE over the bar. He shakes off the excess water off of his wings, flapping vigorously. A bit out of breath, she goes to close the front door.)

VAGGIE: After that shit that Alastor pulled, I wasn't gonna have you and Niffty handle this alone with his...Minions or whatever he calls them.

HUSK: (sniffs) Still, thank you kid…Niff an' I-…Uh, well I'm grateful, anyway.

(NIFFTY is giggling and splashing around in the wet puddles on the floor.)

NIFFTY: I like the rain! Means all the bugs in the drainpipe went bye-bye!...Rhymes with drain and stain, chain...and pain...pain!...pain!…

HUSK: (murmurs) Pain is right...Migraine.

VAGGIE: (Hums in agreement, TR: Lord gimme strength.) …Señor dame fuerza.

(Speaking of pain…A pained yelp comes from the top of the stairs. CHARLIE calls out VAGGIE’s name and to anybody else listening.)

VAGGIE: (worried) Charlie!...Babe, what are you doing out of bed?

CHARLIE: (reassures) Vaggie, It’s-…I-I’m fine…Why didn’t you wake me?

VAGGIE: (she sniffles, still out of breath) You needed to rest. And it’s fine!-

CHARLIE: It’s not fine…You guys are soaked!

VAGGIE: We took care of it…We just finished.

CHARLIE: …Shit, I suppose Al was right about one thing, at least we’re stocked…Oh, here gimme a sec-

(She grimaces in pain, but tears open a new box and pulls out...)

CHARLIE: (nervous laugh) Here! New towels for everyone…(apologetic) I’m so sorry, Guys, this is all my fault. You shouldn’t have had to work in the storm.

VAGGIE: Oh, Charlie.. Don’t blame- ehh- Hk’iksh’hhhih!...Haht’ITSH'hUh! …Puchica……HAH’ISH’CHHUH!

(OTHERS: Worried Ad-libs...)

CHARLIE: Put that down, your wings are soaking!...You need to get changed and warm up ...Husk, Niffty, you too...

NIFFTY: (unfazed) …Okay!

CHARLIE: (winces at HUSK)...No offense, you're looking a little peaky.

(Epitome of a wet cat, HUSK grumpily sniffs, a touch sarcastic, he knows how ridiculous he looks, he slunks away, wings dripping, paws squelching on the floor.)

HUSK: Gee, thanks…

(HUSK and NIFFTY exit up the stairs)

CHARLIE: (called up the stairs) I mean that with love! (She swears under her breath)...Vaggie, you are so amazing and sweet to do what you did, but why didn't you just-

(CHARLIE winces in pain while on her feet and swears under her breath.)

VAGGIE: Sweetie, sit down!…You always push through when you’re in pain and I finally wanted to give you the chance to rest…Alastor didn’t have the sense to dhh-… Hehd’dtSH’shiH! Delay the shipments...Not to mention, h- handle the one that-...th!- Hatch’eskchww! Heh’dtsh’shuh! Egh'ghtt'chuh! Egh'ghtt!-Tsch’uhh! Sorry…Went missing…Husk and Niffty shouldn’t have to be punished for that!…In fact I’m almost sure he did that on purpose…Big red Bastard…sonriente pendejo-...EEH’YTCH’uhhh hetsh’shuh! …Fuck sorry.

(VAGGIE growls and coughs roughly)

CHARLIE: Bless you!...Vaggie…Oh god…Vaggie, that really doesn’t sound good…Okay, how about this, we worry about all of this later and we both take better care of ourselves, together…A hot shower and extra strength Baphometophen, for you and for me, okay?

🎀❌️🌧❤️✨️

(SCENE 3 - Now, up in the couple's bedroom, the sound of a thermometer beeps.)

CHARLIE: (concerned) I think… Yep you have a fever.

VAGGIE: Hehk'tchoo!

CHARLIE: Bless you! There we go, all cozy…anything else? …Glass of water? Tissue?

(VAGGIE coughs, sniffs and tiredly reaches up for CHARLIE.)

CHARLIE: Hm?...Vaggie?

VAGGIE: (quietly) …Just you.

CHARLIE: (tender, loving)…Okay

(CHARLIE sits behind her girlfriend in bed and starts to run her fingers through VAGGIE’s hair as she lays in her lap. She starts to tell a story, and hum and croon out the words of a lullaby that Lucifer and Lillith used to sing in the days of Eden and when CHARLIE was first born.)

CHARLIE: My dad used to talk about the days of Eden, a bridge to the heavens, how the colors would shine upon the garden…He wanted to share that with the world. The beauty of the heavens should be shared by all, if just a little. But along with many plans of his, heaven felt it would threaten their order…So in search of answers, he left…and…found my mom crying near the edge of the garden. And using his pure light, turned her tears into beautiful colors, like the bridge. That was the start of their friendship…their love.

VAGGIE: (stuffily) Hh'esh'hihh!...Then what happened?

CHARLIE: Well…that wasn't too long before the banishment…they both missed the garden and heavens light and the colors they shared together. And both dreamed of a day they could share that with everybody...

(CHARLIE sings)

Lavender's blue, dilly, dilly

Lavender's green

When I am king, dilly, dilly

You shall be queen

Who told you so, dilly, dilly

Who told you so?

'Twas mine own heart, dilly, dilly

That told me so…

(CHARLIE realizes that VAGGIE is asleep, kisses her temple and sings at a slower tender tempo, the lyrics reflects more on them as a couple and their future together.)

Hope as our guide, dilly dilly

I promise you

I’ll always love, dilly dilly

And care for you

And then in time, dilly, dilly

In time unseen

You by my side, dilly dilly...

We’ll both be Queen.

CHARLIE: ...Goodnight Vaggie

🎀❌️🌧❤️✨️

(SCENE 4 - The next morning, CHARLIE wakes up sore again. She yawns…but also feels the sleepy, itchy…fiery… beginning of a-)

CHARLIE: Ehh heh! Heh!…EPtSH’HIEEW!...Uh-oh…Oh no. NOPE, No…I am not getting sick…(laughs) heh heh…Ehht’ptSCH’HIEEW!...ugh…Ehht'TCHIEW!...(nervously laughs) Oh god, that’s fire…Uh, Vaggie?...Are you okay? V-Vaggie?

(There’s some hoarse coughing heard, alerting CHARLIE that VAGGIE is near the door of their balcony. CHARLIE slowly makes her way up to meet VAGGIE at the balcony door.)

CHARLIE: Vaggie? What are you doing?-

VAGGIE: (a little delirious) Look at the puddles, Char…The Rainbows…

CHARLIE: What?

VAGGIE: Look at the colors, Mi vida…

(VAGGIE points, and sure enough, in the puddles below their overhang, the oil and rainwater reflect the light of the pentagram sun…Creating a pretty mix of colors. Real rainbows in hell…there is hope. A silver lining in the storm. CHARLIE holds VAGGIE and gives her a long sweet kiss on her temple as they both watch the rain and the puddles together.)

CHARLIE: (whispered) Oh…Thank you.

[live-laugh-lenney]

need arthurtv to teach me how to play chess because it’s embarrassing how bad i am at it

oh, god.

just imagine him trying to teach you one night.

it's cold and wet outside and the weather has been dull and dismal all day with the occasional thundery shower and heavy downpour, both dressed in baggy hoodies and comfy shorts, a takeaway ordered and the room illuminated by flickering candles and wax-melts burning a warming smell of vanilla and clean cotton.

and he's been trying to teach you all day.

chessboard set up on the coffee table, snacks and sweets poured into bowls so you didn't have to get up each time you felt hungry or peckish for a sweet treat, the television turned off and his spotify was playing a chilled-out playlist that gave off vibes of a proper cosy day spent at home.

"if i move this piece here, i win, right?"

it takes him a moment to see if there were any more possible moves to make, having you sit in anticipation, his mouth dropping open once he realises you'd won a game by yourself and without much help from him.

"yeah."

"i beat you?"

"yeah."

and all you can do is grin because of how proud you felt and as much as he wants to be upset by losing a game he loved so much, he can't help but grin with you and celebrate the accomplishment you had finally achieved that day. xx

[caesariawritesstuff]

Be Quiet

Summary: As Jonathan Crane's therapist, you're required to have weekly sessions with him. Good thing for you that those sessions involve more than talking.

Content Warning: Therapy Sessions, P in V Sex, NSFW

Word Count: 2.2k

● Ao3 ● X ● Retrospring ● Read on Ao3 ● Masterlist ●

You walked the halls of Arkham, a clipboard tucked tightly to your chest. Your heart hammered furiously against your ribcage, and you bit your lip. Anxiety twisted in your belly, a desperate ache pulsed in between your legs. The Arkham guard escorting you was completely clueless to the utter desire coursing through your veins. You snuck a quick glance, studying him head to toe: he was dressed in the traditional black and blue uniform of all the Arkham security staff; his expression was stoic, and one hand wrested at his side, near his taser.

You frowned; Here you were, dressed in a short skirt and blouse, a long, white doctors coat hanging down to your knees. As a therapist in Arkham, you never thought you’d be in the position you were in now: falling in love with your patient, Jonathan Crane.

God, just the thought both filled you with arousal and shame. Who did you think you were? Harley Quinn? And everyone knew what happened to her. Her fall from grace as she became the Joker’s sidekick and lover. At first, you’d judged her. Didn’t understand how she could fall for such a maniac. At least, not until you began your sessions with Jonathon almost three months ago.

And in those three months, you’d come to learn just exactly how a therapist in Arkham could fall in love with their patient. At first, your sessions with Jonathan had been less than productive. He danced around the idea of fear, spouting his theories and philosophies on the very basis that people did what they did because they were driven by fear. And you were desperate to prove him wrong. To show that he was incorrect. That people didn’t always do things out of fear, and for other reasons entirely – money, lust, power. Fear wasn’t a motivator for everyone.

And yet, he always had a counter.

“You crave money because you fear what it’d be like to live without,” he’d said. “You crave sex because you fear a life without intimacy. You want power because you fear losing control of your life and the people in it.”

Each time, his conversations had not only left you speechless, but wondering what you could do to get through to him. And slowly, over time, you began to fall in love with Jonathan Crane.

You’re not even sure how it happened, exactly. Not sure how, as he slowly opened up about more of his theories, he had come to ensnare you under his spell. But he had, and now here you were: heading into another therapy session with him, one that wouldn’t actually consist of much therapy at all. You sucked in a breath as you reached the room, where Jonathan awaited. The guard unlocked and opened the door, staring at you with stern, serious eyes.

“Thank you. You may go now,” you said. Your cue that he didn’t need to stand there and listen in. The guards knew your rule by now: their presence was unwanted and unnecessary, and only served to upset the patients. But, he nodded and waited until you were securely inside before he closed the door behind you.

It shut with a heavy bang, and you slowly turned your attention to Jonathan, sitting there at the desk. Wrapped in a straitjacket, his cold, steely eyes studying you. His mask-like face was unreadable and unrelenting. You were never sure what he was thinking. The room was cold, sending a chill across your flesh. You waited until you heard the guards’ footsteps drift down the hall and out of ear shot. When you were certain he was gone, you didn’t hesitate to walk around Jonathan and begin undoing his straight jacket. It was custom now, between the two of you. And he hated having his limbs confined and restrained. When it was off enough for him to slip his arms through, he flexed his fingers and rolled his neck.

“Better?” you asked, your heart thundering in your chest.

“Much,” he answered, his voice cold. Emotionless.

You wandered back to his front. The straitjacket hung off just enough at his waist that in case you needed to quickly secure it, you had easy access. But your hands were trembling, and you clenched your fists at your sides, trying not to show your fear. Heat crept across your cheeks, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

He noticed, his eyes dropping to your fists. “Trembling already. You’re not afraid, are you?”

“No,” you answered quickly. Perhaps too quick. Like a child pretending they were confident in their own emotions.

He studied you, his eyes examining every inch of you. Today, you’d chosen an especially short skirt and more revealing blouse that exposed even more of your cleavage. Your intentions were fully on display: what you wanted. What you wanted him to do to you. Jonathan Crane was not a stupid man, and the very subtle hint of a smirk appeared on his mask-like face. He rested one hand on your waist, and the other snaked up to grab your chin. You gasped as he pulled you on top of him so quickly that you had no choice but to straddle him. You rested both hands on his shoulders, locking eyes with him.

“I can practically smell your fear,” he whispered lowly, bringing your mouth to his. He kissed you gentle – but his lips were rough. Patchy. You didn’t care. The feel of his tongue on yours made you relax into him; you pressed your body further into his. His hand tightened on your waist and his other hand fisted at the back of your lab coat, before tangling in your hair.

You kissed him harder, fiercer. Desperate to taste him. Wetness pooled in between your legs, and you moaned into the kiss. You grinded your hips into his, feeling the erection confined in his white, prison suit. You reached up, tangling your hands into his dark hair, tugging slightly on the strands. Massaging his scalp. He groaned and pulled away, staring at you.

“On your knees,” he said. One simple command. He didn’t need to elaborate.

Your entire body was on fire as you crawled off him and lowered to your knees. Your heart beat so hard you could hear it thrumming in your ears. Slowly, you helped his cock free of its constraints. Swollen hard, precum leaking from the tip. The head bright red with blood and desire. You glanced up at him once; he still gazed at you expressionless, but his eyes were full of need and want.

You smiled and leaned forward, darting your tongue out to lick at the tip. His breath suddenly hitched, his cock twitching in your palm. You smirked, satisfied and absolutely turned on you. Slowly, you continued the slow, teasing movements of your tongue. Up and down his shaft, swirling around his cockhead. Above, his breathing grew quicker, in a way you hadn’t heard from him before. But, you leaned forward and took him fully into your mouth. He tasted of sweat and salt and skin as you leaned forward, taking him even further. A low, guttural groan escaped his throat, and he twisted his fingers into your hair. You rose up, then back down, repeating the bobbing motion with your head. You sucked harder, feeling a wetness in between your own legs. You wrapped your fingers around his shaft and pumped slowly in tandem with your sucking.

“Stop,” he said, his voice curt. Quick. A command.

You immediately did as he said, pulling him from your mouth. By the tone of his voice, you had a feeling he was close. But you smirked and licked your lips. He brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, his expression just as emotionless as before.

“So obedient,” he said. His fingertips lowered from your temple down to your cheek, slowly stroking your skin. “Turn around.”

You nodded and stood, doing as he said and spinning on your heels. His chair scraped backwards as he stood; carefully, he grabbed your shoulders and lowered you down onto the metal desk. You grasped it carefully, heart hammering against your ribcage. Slowly, his hands wandered downwards, until they reached your ass; he caressed your skin softly, before they wandered further downwards – further, further – until his fingers brushed against your slick, warm wetness. You whined slightly, biting your lip, anticipation building in your stomach.

Then, he pushed your panties aside and sunk two fingers into you, and you groaned as he pumped them in and out, slowly. Carefully, as if studying every reaction you gave. The soft moans that escaped your lips as his fingers filled you and pumped in and out, a vulgar wetness filling the room. You rested your head against the table and closed your eyes, drowning in the feeling.

Suddenly, he removed his fingers, and you whined at the absence – but before you could protest further, he sunk his cock into you. You gasped at the intrusion; the feel of him against you was like heaven. He filled you completely, stretching out your walls. You moaned as his hands placed themselves on your waist, nails digging into your flesh, and he began to thrust.

“Fuck,” you whispered under your breath. His hips slammed into you, his balls slapping against your ass. You gripped the edge of the table until your knuckles turned white. Soft mewls of pleasure escaped your lips. You gasped with each thrust, your voice growing louder, lewder.

Suddenly, his hand snapped forward. He leaned forward, his powerful body overtaking yours. His hand snaked forward, and he wrapped his fingers around your throat, forcing your face upwards.

“Be quiet,” he hissed into your ear. His rough skin was scratchy against yours. His tongue snaked out, licking at your earlobe and you gasped again, trembling against him. “Ssh…you don’t want them to hear us, do you?”

No, God, no. You were already balancing on a dangerous line. Your job was already at stake. Being caught with Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow, fucking you would absolutely destroy your career. You shook your head in answer.

“Good girl,” he whispered. But he didn’t release your throat. Instead, his lips traveled down your jaw, across your flesh, teeth nipping at your flesh. His thrusts increased harder, faster, quicker. His cockhead rammed right into your sweet spot, and you gritted your teeth, trying hard not to cry out in ecstasy.

You closed your eyes as the ultimate pleasure built in your core. In the center of your womanhood, building higher and higher until you were seeing stars. You bit your lip, and slowly reached downwards, rubbing your clit. The heightened sensation was just enough to send you over the edge and a loud gasp escaped your mouth as you came. Your climax wracked through your entire body, spasming every muscle, every part of yourself. You moaned and writhed as Jonathn snapped his hips once more and groaned, spilling himself inside of you. His cock twitched and pulsed, as you felt his seed fill your insides.

For a moment, there was nothing but your heavy breathing in the room. He released his grip on your throat and you fell onto the desk, exhausted, clit still aching with pleasure. He pulled out of you, and his cum dripped down your thighs. You swallowed, trying to gain your composure, and spun back around to see him tucking his cock back into his pants. Your own panties were soaked wet; you were glad you’d stuffed an extra pair into your purse just in case.

You ran a hand through your hair and glanced at the clock. Shit – time was almost up for your session. You had about ten minutes until it was over, and you needed to make yourself look presentable.

“That was…” you couldn’t even say the words. When was the last time you’d had sex so good?

A low chuckle rumbled from deep within his throat, but, he sat back onto his seat. You wandered behind him and began strapping him back into his straitjacket. “Sorry I have to do this,” you whispered, voice low. When he was securely fastened in, you walked back to his front.

“Jonathon—” you started to say, but stopped. How could you tell him how you were feeling?

He studied you carefully. “Speak. Whatever you fear, you can tell me.”

“It’s not what I fear,” you said. “It’s what I don’t. Because I don’t fear you. I love you, Jonathon.”

If he was surprised by your declaration, you couldn’t tell. Not with his mask-like face. But he looked you up and down and said, “My dear. I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

You smiled, heart thundering in your chest. You were desperate to kiss him. Desperate to throw yourself on him, take his face in your hands—

But suddenly, footsteps echoed down the hall. You hurried back into your seat and flipped open the file in front of you, pretending you’d been taking notes. By the time you were settled, the door swung open.

“Time’s up, doctor,” the guard said.

“Very well,” you sighed. You didn’t need to feign your irritation. But, you gathered your things and tucked them under your arm. “I’ll see you next week, Jonathon.”

He nodded, and you followed the guard out into the hall, a giant smile plastered on your face.

You couldn’t wait until next week.

[crazylittlejester]

Okokokok hear me outtt (Deffo not projecting, not like disability rep is super nonexistent or anything-)

warriors: hypoglycemia + chronic pain, (can’t move & feel much of left side due to Volga burns)

sky: epilepsy/some sort of seizure disorder or tic disorder (from lighting)

four: migraines (Ik it’s a pretty popular hc)

legend: ehlers danlos or fibromyalgia or both, cane user (also somewhat popular)

twilight: sensory processing disorder/sensory issues (wolves/dogs hear & smell much better than humans

wild: chronic pain + amputee + nerve issues + mute (damaged vocal cords or mental trauma, or both tbh) (or some mix of these)

hyrule: vision loss (because the NES graphics are really hard for me to see 😭)

wind: hoh/deaf (thundery storms can be VERY loud!!)

time: chronic father figure disorder (sending thots and prayers 😔🙏)

much love,

mandarin warriors :)

(Ps dw about the cia fic schools a bitch I get it!! Don’t sweat it :))

Mandarin Warriors anon you have no idea how excited I get when I hear from you dude 🫶 much love to you too bro

A LOT OF THESE ARE THINGS I HEADCANON TOO! Y’all can pry Sky with epilepsy out of my cold dead hands. And absolutely 1000% YES to wars with hypoglycemia and chronic pain, that’s how I write him >:) also Hyrule with vision loss is something I literally never thought of but ur so real for that

Time with ‘chronic father disorder’ took me out, and may I suggest: Time is autistic (he ain’t the only one, but he’s the one I headcanon the most as autistic)

[thetidesthatturn]

An Unlikely Encounter

Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Synopsis: it is your first time attending a Greta Van Fleet gig by yourself, what happens next was only ever a figment of your wildest imagination.

Warnings: smut, drinking, language

18+, MINORS DNI

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

3.5k word count

“Ok, the doors are opening up. Please enter the building in an orderly fashion!”

Your heart pounded against your ribcage. You were sure that if the room were quieter, the sheer magnitude of thumps would rattle off the walls into thundery echoes. The screaming around you transformed into white noise as you tried to steady yourself amongst the movement.

The doors opened.

Pushed and shoved from all angles, you managed to find yourself quickly enough to propel forwards into a sprint. You weren’t the fittest of people, occasionally enjoying a trip to the gym here and there, but that didn’t stop you from treating this moment like you were an Olympian going for the gold. This was most certainly not your first Greta Van Fleet concert, but it was your first time being at the front of the standing queue. As you hit the barricade and came to a stop, your breath hitched in your throat. Did I really make barricade? You thought as your eyes widened. Holy fucking shit.

The supporting acts seemed to fly by in some dream-like state, and you were still spiralling at the mere thought of being metres away from the band by the time the crowd erupted into a symphony of screeches and wails. As you came to, you could hear a classical overture playing sweetly. You recognised the melody as it morphed from one familiar tune to the next, growing louder to emphasise that the curtain would soon drop. You stared up in anticipation as the overture reached its climax and watched eagerly as four figures emerged. They immediately launched into “The Falling Sky” and Josh’s powerful vocals filled the arena, drawing each and every person in like a siren’s deadly song. You were so enchanted by this that you didn’t notice who had made their way across the stage and was standing directly in front of you.

Jake fucking Kiszka.

There he was, like a shining deity before you. Sweat glistening on his bare chest, his hair softly swishing with every movement, his calloused hands meticulously strumming each chord. Was this a dream? Was Jake Kiszka actually standing right in front of you? Before you could even realise what was happening, your eyes met. You felt a searing warmth spreading across your cheeks, a shy smile playing on your lips. He smiled back, then his eyes moved away as he turned to travel across the stage and meet his brother at the centre.

What the fuck.

In all the times you’d been to see the band, you had never ever made eye contact with one of the boys. Let alone Jake. Jake plagued your thoughts frequently and refused to leave your dreams. His beautiful face that seemed to be carved by literal angels lingered in every corner of your mind. You force yourself back to reality, silently reminding yourself to be present and enjoy the evening, and you do. The atmosphere is electric, you sway along with thousands of fans and scream out the lyrics until your throat stings. Towards the end of the show, as Josh makes his way along the barricade, you reach out and his hand brushes yours. As you make contact, he looks you up and down and winks before making his exit.

What was that about? You think to yourself curiously.

As the night draws to a close, and the band is finishing up their encore, you close your lips around your fingers and send a piercing wolf whistle towards the stage. Jake’s eyes clap onto yours, sending shockwaves through your entire body. He blows you a kiss and your vision slowly fades to darkness.

~

You’re snapped back into reality when the bitter cold air hits your lungs. Somehow, you’ve made it outside the venue, and you’re stood alone clutching your bag and phone. A text buzzes and lights up the screen, which makes you jump and then subsequently tut with annoyance at the reaction. It’s your best friend. She usually comes with you to Greta gigs, but she’s been held up with work recently, so it’s your first time attending alone.

How was it? So fucking gutted I couldn’t make it. She writes.

Amazing… incredible. And weird. You type back, your fingers moving at a snail-like pace from the icy temperature lingering in the air.

Weird? Explain. She questions.

Before you begin to respond, you take in your environment. It’s 11:30pm, and you’re stood outside, alone, in Wembley, in the freezing cold. It’s probably a good idea to head back to your hotel room and finish this conversation somewhere warmer and safer. As you make your way down the street, you spot a small bar with pretty fairy lights shimmering in the window.

I wouldn’t say no to a drink right now you think to yourself, as you stop outside and peer in. It looks inviting, and warm.

What’s the harm in stopping by for one drink? You muse.

As you open the door, you’re met with the comforting scent of aromatic bitters, mixed with aged oak, and fresh citrus. You breathe in, as you rub your hands together in search of warmth. The bar is quiet with a few people dotted about in booths, making conversation. Soft jazz plays in the background as you make your way over to the bar. You perch yourself up onto a stool and the bartender approaches you to ask what you’ll have.

“Sailor Jerry’s and coke, if you have it” you say with a polite smile. The bartender nods and begins making your drink. He brings it over and you tap your phone onto the card reader.

“Thanks” you say, bringing the glass to your lips and taking in a sip of the sweet, golden liquid, savouring the burn of the alcohol as it slips down your throat. Your attention is quickly diverted though, as you hear a commotion of male voices at the door. Their boisterous laughter cuts through the ambience of the bar like a knife, which is quickly calmed by a very loud shhhhh from one of the taller men in the group. You can make out four figures but decide to pull your attention back to your drink and think about replying to the text message from earlier. As you begin to start typing a response, you feel the stool next to you being pulled away.

For fuck sake, can I not be left alone in peace for one evening without some random bloke bothering me? you think to yourself, rolling your eyes, ignoring the presence next to you and focusing on your phone screen.

The stranger leans in, close enough for you to feel his breath tickle the strands of hair covering your ear.

“Just my luck that I’d find you here, you left pretty quickly after the show was over”.

You look up, a frown forming across your forehead as you begin to reject the man’s advances and tell him you aren’t interested. As your eyes find his, time seems to slow almost to a stop. He grins and cocks his head to the side, an eyebrow rising ever so slightly as he waits for your response.

There’s no way this is happening. This can’t be happening.

You become aware that you’re staring silently, with your mouth hanging open. It feels as though you can’t take in enough breath. You clear your throat, not able to speak but wanting to at least do something.

After what seems like a million years pass by, you finally muster up the word “Hi”, a shy smile playing on your lips.

“Do I get to know your name, pretty lady?” he asks. You feel your stomach flip.

Did Jake Kiszka just call you pretty lady? Ok, calm down, calm down.

“Y/N” you say, admittedly a lot more confidently than you actually feel. “And I believe you must be Jake”.

“A pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” Jake responds, holding his hand out to you. You place your hand in his, and he brings it up to his lips, softly kissing it. The contact sends electric bolts through your nerve endings and into your very core.

“The pleasure is all mine” you breathe.

“So, how come I haven’t seen your beautiful face at our shows before?” He asks, shooting you a playful grin.

“I’ve never made barricade before” you reply honestly.

“What took you so long?”

You pause, not really knowing what to respond. What did take you so long?

You sigh “I always came along with my best friend and my boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend. We never actually booked standing tickets, but I was going to be here by myself this time so I thought, fuck it, I may as well try to get as close as I can.”

He sits back in his chair, studying your face.

“Ex-boyfriend?” He asks after a few moments. You feel yourself blush, which he definitely notices.

“Yes, ex-boyfriend. I called it off recently” you hesitate, before adding “It just wasn’t working, so… yeah.”

“Lucky for me” he retorts, his eyes fixated on you, drinking you in. He looks over at the bartender who swiftly walks over to take his order.

“I’ll have whatever she’s having, and of course she’ll need another”.

You look down at your half-finished drink and knock it back, sliding the empty glass over to the bartender.

~

Thirty minutes later and a few drinks in, you and Jake are chatting away like old friends. You’re so surprised at how easy he is to talk to.

“Do you live round here?” He asks.

“Uhh, it’s complicated” you respond, looking down at your drink and stirring it absentmindedly, watching the ice slosh around in the amber liquid.

Jake raises his eyebrow.

“Technically no, I live further South. I’m staying at a hotel across the street from the arena tonight. But I’m moving in with my best friend who lives here in London, since my ex and I-” you trail off.

Jake puts his hand on your thigh, and you feel your breath catch in the back of your throat.

“Do you still live with him?”

“No, he moved out a few weeks back. But I need to get out, too many memories there.” You squeeze your eyes shut, wincing slightly.

Unconsciously, your hand meets Jake’s, still placed on your thigh. You feel a warmth creep between your legs.

Fuck, it’s been so long since I’ve felt like this. So long since I’ve been… touched.

You bite at your lip and try to shoo the feeling away, but Jake leans in and uses his free hand to brush your hair behind your ear and leans forward to whisper.

“Sounds to me like it’s his loss, pretty lady”.

A soft moan escapes your lips, it’s barely audible but Jake is so close to you that he most definitely heard it. Your eyes dart up to his, your faces so close now that there’s only inches between you. His grip on your thigh tightens as the warmth between your legs spreads.

~

The next thing you know, you’re in the back of an Uber, Jake’s hands in your hair and his lips crashing into yours. Jake is cool, crystal water and you have an insatiable thirst that only he can quench. Jake’s hand slides up under the skirt of your dress, his fingers barely grazing your throbbing clit. You stifle a moan, your hands exploring his bare chest. The Uber pulls up outside your hotel, and Jake whisks you out and in through the doors. You lead him up to the third floor and fumble around in your bag to find the key card. As you find it, Jake grabs hold of your wrists with one hand and lifts them above you, pinning you to the door. With his spare hand, he lifts your thigh up and around his waist and grinds into you, the outline of his erection pressing right where you need it to. You cry out with pleasure, which Jake evidently seems to like.

“You sound so fucking beautiful when you moan like that” he purrs, retrieving the key card from your restrained hand and pressing it against the reader. As he opens the door, he pulls you up onto him so that you’re straddling him with your legs wrapped around his waist. He brings you over to the bed and sets you down onto it.

“Do you want me, pretty lady?” He asks.

“Fuck… yes! Please!” You shout, the agonising need to be fucked coursing through your veins.

“How long has it been since someone took care of you, baby?”

“Too fucking long” you whine.

“So, you’re telling me this pretty baby hasn’t been fucked for a while? When’s the last time he made you cum?” He taunts, planting hot, breathless kisses along your throat.

“He never made me cum”.

Jake stops in his tracks, runs his hands up and into your hair, and guides your face to his.

“He never made you cum?”

“No, I can’t.” You say, embarrassment flooding across your face. “I can only make myself cum”.

Jake laughs and you frown at him, not understanding what’s remotely amusing about what you just said.

His eyes blacken with lust. “We’ll see about that” he croons, snaking his hand up your thigh, inching dangerously close to your throbbing, needy clit.

“This only works if you trust me, can you do that?” He asks. You nod, but he shakes his head.

“Words, pretty lady. I need you to use your words. I won’t go easy on you, but you need to tell me if things get too much. Ok”

“Ok” you breathe “do anything, please do what you want, I’m yours”.

“You’re gunna wish you didn’t say that” he laughs, and with that, he bunches the waistband of your thong in his fist and rips it off in one clean movement. His middle finger runs through your wet pussy, collecting your heat as he trails upwards, and uses it as lubrication to rub agonisingly pleasurable circles across your swollen bud.

“Oh, fuck yes” you cry, your hands grabbing at your breasts over the velvet of your dress.

Clearly affected by your outbursts, he slips two fingers inside of you and begins pumping them, curling them up to reach your sweet spot. Your hands find their way under his shirt, and your fingernails dig into the flesh on his back.

“Fuck! Please, don’t stop!” You beg, your eyes rolling back into your head.

“You don’t need to beg me, baby. I’ll take care of you” he soothes, whilst doing the opposite with his hand. He’s fucking you so hard with his fingers, his pace causing a pressure to build up in your lower stomach. You know that feeling, and it’s usually only felt when you are in your own company, with your trusty wand vibrator in hand, but this time you are teetering on the edge of an orgasm at the hands of Jake fucking Kiszka.

That thought alone, and the knowledge that he is currently inside you, is enough to tip you over the edge. Your mind plunges into bliss as you pulse around his fingers. No man has ever made you cum before.

You hazily begin drifting down from your orgasm, but instead of letting up, he begins to pump into you even faster, still curling his fingers up and into your bulging G spot.

“Please, stop!” you cry out, beginning to feel overstimulated.

“I told you to trust me” he snaps, restraining your wrists with his free hand.

You’re writhing under his touch, the pressure building and building within you. The feeling is unfamiliar, but you do trust him.

“Come on baby, cum for me again, I know you can” he coos.

His gentle coaching paired with the enormous pleasure jolting through your body sends you headfirst into a crashing wave of ecstasy. You cry out as you cum harder than you ever have in your life. You throw your head back as you begin to see stars. Jake pulls his fingers out of you and rubs them viciously against your clit as you continue to gush out onto the bed sheets.

“Fuck, fuck!!!” You shout, completely consumed and lost in your orgasm.

Jake lifts his hand to his mouth and licks you off his fingers, savouring the taste of you like it’s his last ever meal.

“I fucking love a squirter” he moans, climbing on top and pressing his hard cock into you.

“Tell me what you want baby” he asks.

“I want you to fuck me” you breathe.

“You ready for more, princess?” He taunts.

“Yes, fuck yes. Please, Jake.” You plead.

He hooks his arm underneath you and pulls you up, so you’re sat upright on top of him. He lifts your dress over your head and exposes your bare breasts, your nipples hard and pebbled. He takes one into his mouth and begins to suck on it gently, which causes you to whimper.

You pull his shirt off and begin unbuttoning his pants. He yanks them off and you delve into his boxers, sliding your hand down his shaft. He groans, a pearl of pre-cum forming at his tip. He runs his fingers through your folds to gather your slick and uses it to pump himself a few times with this before lifting you up and pulling you down onto him. His hard cock slips inside you with ease, and you both wail with immense pleasure. He begins fucking into you hard and fast, his hands finding your throat and choking you slightly, his teeth burrowing into your collarbone. Your mind goes hazy as you sink deeper and deeper into euphoria. The bed frame pounds against the wall as Jake drives his length into you, his free hand stroking across your clit.

“Jake, I’m gunna fucking cum” you sob, tears falling down your cheeks.

“Cum for me baby, cum so hard for me. I’m so close angel”. You can see he’s teetering on the edge himself, his face plastered with pleasure, but he wants you to get there first. His selflessness and desire for your own pleasure sends you tumbling into orgasm number three, that same rush of endorphins flooding through your veins as you clench hard around him and cover him in your arousal. He curses loudly as his cock twitches inside of you, and he’s cumming right alongside you. The symphony of curses, moans and groans light up the dark room with their beautiful song.

You find yourselves intertwined in a heap on the bed, panting and sweating, tangled up together as you float down from ecstasy. He cups your face in his hands and kisses your forehead gently, in a way that makes you feel like the most special person in the world.

“Wow” you whisper, your heart rate returning to a steadier pace.

“You are fucking phenomenal” he praises softly, stroking your hair.

You lay there for a while, in silence, letting Jake hold you.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course” Jake replies, caressing your cheek

“Why me?”

“Huh?” He looks at you, confused.

“Why me? You could have had any girl tonight, literally any girl. Why did you choose me?”

He sighs. “To be honest with you, I don’t do this a lot. I know that might seem hard to believe, given my profession…” he hesitates “I actually recently got out of a long-term relationship myself too, and the last thing I’ve wanted to do is date or sleep with someone else. But when I saw you in the crowd tonight, it sounds stupid, but I knew I had to get to know you. I knew you were special.”

You blush, not knowing what to say back.

“Is it weird if I tell you I’ve had a crush on you for like, the longest time” you giggle.

“Fuck no” he laughs, before adding “you’re only human” with a wink.

~

You stay up talking for hours, about where you grew up, how many siblings you have, what your life ambitions are and all the other deep shit that you share when getting to know someone. He laughs, you laugh. At around 3am, you realise the time.

“Shit, it’s so late!” You gasp.

Jake laughs and places his hand over yours. “I guess time flies when you’re having fun”.

“I suppose you need to leave; I have no idea what a rock star’s schedule is like but I’m sure it’s busy!” You say, unable to hide the sullen undertones in your voice.

“We actually have a week until the next show, so we were planning on hanging around here and doing some tourist shit. Josh really likes London, something about it being ‘good for the artist’s soul’, whatever the fuck that means…”

“Oh, that’s cool” You mumble, not really knowing what else to say. You want to ask him to stay, but you’ve only just met the guy.

“Do you mind if I crash with you tonight?” Jake asks, smiling softly at you. It’s as if he read your mind…

“No not at all!” Yeah, good going, make it super obvious how happy that made you, you sound like a giddy schoolgirl!

He chuckles, moving forward and enveloping you in a tight embrace.

“Good night, Y/N. I’m so glad I met you today” he breathes into your ear.

“Good night, Jake. I’m glad too.”

[aiiria17]

I (re)read Warriors: Forest of Secrets

Months ago now I decided to reread the warriors book and then got super busy. So I took a break between Fire & Ice and Forest of Secrets till I was less busy (this week). I have over the nights of this week read from Forest of Secrets to the end of the arc and so I got some write ups to do for funsees. Also that means if I accidentally say something that isn't true yet then I messed up.

Bluestar's big scary secret

What is this, some kind of forest of secrets? The main thing about this book is Bluestar's big secret about being Mistyfoot and Stonefur's big Thundery mom.

So what does this mean?

Warriors is really about the society and code that dictates it. And even more so about the moral flexibility of the code. 99% of the conflicts in the story are "is this right even though it violates the code" (see: everything Fireheart does as deputy). Bluestar is a big time example of this.

She gave up her children to be leader and they were born through a code illegal relationship but the question is: was she right? Yeah, I think so.

I really think Bluestar is fully a show of the existence of freedom within her life. She chooses for herself, in spite of her culture, to live her life within the bounds she wishes to. Bluestar is within her right to have kids and then within her right to give them up. Decisions like this makes Bluestar a perfect contrast to Tigerclaw aka fascism in cat form (it's so explicit and flew over my head as a 9 year old who didn't know what fascism was). I feel like there's probably something more to say if I would (re)read Bluestar's prophecy but I'm not feeling that yet. Maybe later.

I'm keeping this brief because a saucier version of the same plot is the next subcategory ominously lingering below (and in case I decide to keep doing these and get to Bluestar's prophecy).

Graystripe's big scary secret

So I have a big internal conundrum. I have said I like the moral conflict of Bluestar giving up her kits. It's a good conflict that provides a lot of depth to her character. So, why don't I feel even a little similar about Graystripe and Spottedleaf?

I do at all like or care for these characters and I want to understand why I feel this way. Here's the reasons I can think of

Character motivation

Downsides coming from it

The characters themselves

First of all, character motivation. I don't feel like there is an established reasoning for the love between Graystripe and Silverstream. I think she saved him last books? (it's been a few months so forgive me). But there relationship doesn't make sense. They don't really show any chemistry despite the frequency of their interactions. I hate this argument though, despite making it. Bluestar shares this quality. We don't know why she loved Oakheart, it isn't established within this arc (though probably in Bluestar's prophecy). Again why do I feel so differently about such similar situations?

Well an actual discernible difference is in the fact that Graystripe's irresponsible ass will not go raise Brakenpaw. As a Brakenfur fan (he's in my top 5 cats currently living in this book) this particularly bugs me. Jokes aside, Graystripe's neglect of doing literally anything and his absence from literally everything make his cutesy "I just want to love" thing kinda irritating. Finally, a justified reason to hate Graystripe and Silverstream.

Yeah that's the real main reason. To be honest this section is more trying to process and figure out my perspective more so than doing an "objective" (cause, let's be honest, there's enough "objective" perspectives on these books to last you a life time). I think it boils down to one simple factor: I do not like Graystripe as of now and I also dislike Silverstream. Really wish she wasn't in this book.

Well she died.

Cinderpaw feels bad :(

So Silverstream dies giving birth to mini-Graystripes.

Silverstreams death is a great point of character development. Not for Graystripe of course but for Cinderpaw!

Yeah the main note with Silverstream's death is that Cinderpaw now feels stressed and inferior and scared. Cinderpaw's character was being able to tough through her own adversity but for the first time. Throughout Fire and Ice, when dealing immediately after with her injury, she is able to be strong and persevere in spite of her life being turned on its head. It's truly a nice show of a character doing their best to strength in a bad situation.

Now she's struggling with something new. She isn't having to overcome her own injury but the weight of her failure. Cinderpaw's strength is the highlight of her character and it shows greatly here. She has to push on and continue doing her job. Cinderpaw's need to keep going and being strong is why I think the early books hit harder than the later ones (at least to my memory of them). Larger clan sizes remove, to an extent, the weight of individual contribution. Cinderpaw can't stop. She is necessary. Her necessity is why she works so well. In spite of her injury she is still one of the members of Thunderclan, all of whom are needed for one reason or another. There aren't a trillion background cats to back everything up (just the kings Runningwind and Brakenfur really, also Longtail who's cool later but not really right now). Older warrior clans are beautiful because of how important every single cat feels, and Cinderpaw is the character she is cause of this environment. And Silverstream's death shows that.

Tigerclaw

No goofy subtitle this is serious.

Brief second thing: I know I alluded to Tigerclaw's obvious connection to fascism but I want to save that cause it gets super explicit.

Tigerclaw, I believe is a product of the negative sides of the clan society in their extremes (there are other reasons given later I think but as of now I'm only looking at the first arc).

Clans transparently reward power. It's one of a few traits seen as admirable by their society. Tigerclaw fixates on the ideas of power beyond the other traits rewarded (i.e. loyalty, wisdom, etc. you can name the thrown out generic good warrior words). His villainy works because it's not that outside of the realms of clan life. Everyone loves Tigerclaw, except the ones who know he killed Redtail, but even then Fireheart wavers to appreciate him occasionally because he is, on the surface, the archetype of a good warrior.

However the flaw in Tigerclaw's character is him lacking the other traits. He's not just loved for his strength but his incorrectly perceived loyalty and honor and whatever the hell makes Longtail like him less. When he literally tries to kill Bluestar which is generally regarded as not cool, the scene after where he tries to convince some of his followers to join him is my favorite in the book. The only issue is Darkstripe says he's totally over Tigerclaw but immediately undoes that later because ??? However Longtail and Dustpelt show that while warrior society values strength a good bit and lets Tigerclaw become rather strong, loyalty and comradery. At the end of the day, Thunderclan is not an environment where someone's strength alone can coast them to being an authoritarian. Wow I wonder if Tigerclaw rising to power elsewhere is directly a allegory for fascism because Erin Hunter is subtle.

GOATWATCH (RUNNINGWIND)

Okay time for real news. I am here to report everything Runningwind does cause he's the GOAT

So his first actual dialogue is being racist towards Riverclan. While racism is bad, no question, some may argue that Riverclan deserves it for being cringe. Runningwind is right once again what a guy. (But really the tomfoolery they pull later means I'll excuse them receiving a little extreme prejudice).

He later talks to Yellowfang. Proximity to Yellowfang, even if not shown, immediately makes any cat 30x cooler.

He protects the kits and queens in battle because a real GOAT respects women. He also congratulates Mousefur on her kits building the argument that Runningwind respects women.

The last thing he does is ask who should be deputy. My inquisitive king knows the importance of starting healthy discussions.

Conclusion

Forest of Secrets is fun but really a prelude for the next arc of "Fireheart is overworked and stressed for two books." Honestly I might combine the next two writeups into one depending on how I feel due to books 4 and 5 blending together a good bit and building off of each other so much. Well Thanks for reading this, feel free to tell me if you have any thoughts cause I'd love to discuss. I also forgot to talk about Yellowfang killing Brokentail and it's late so I'll just do that next time cause it comes up more. Praise Runningwind bye bye.

[liaa--qb]

A SWEET SIN

[Aemond x Helaena ]

Warning : Dark aemond, toxic, obsession, smut, angst, manipulation, dub- con, explicit, incest, blood, violence

SUMMARY : Aemond spending some quality time alone in throne room after battle of rook's rest which was disrupted by his favourite family member.

Part 1 , Part 2

ao3 link

Note : this is my first helaemond fic, next chapter might be bit dark so be clear of warning☠️. (likes, share and comments would be appreciated❤️ )

PART 1

The clouds thundered, creating a beautiful sight for Aemond. Since his childhood, he had grown accustomed to these dark, thundery nights that he enjoyed more than anyone else, more than any person in his life except his beautiful mother. She used to pour her heart out to him, but now she was unwilling to even see his face. Aemond, her only son, who had stood out for her when no one else did. Despite being maimed, he never showed a hint of pain to spare his mother from feeling alone without support in the presence of strong boys, his half sister, and what he now considered not his own family but Rhaenyra's family.

The night was silent, dark, and heavily rainy. Raindrops thudded loudly on the surface, resembling sharp stones of water sent by heaven to wound the Red Keep and fill the cool air with chills. This environment refreshed Aemond; he loved the cold, heavy breeze, and nothing seduced him more than the loud thundering voice.

Alone in the main hall, everyone else sound asleep, Aemond faced his loneliness, a constant companion. After killing Luke, he had no desire to talk to anyone. The volcano inside his mind consumed him. His gaze shifted to the Iron Throne, scanning from its starting point to its end, devouring it's harsh and harmful aura. Not many found the throne comfortable.

His brother Aegon, despite attempting to hide it in front of others, expressed his discomfort through pain shouts and oily back massages after every session on the iron seat. Aemond knew Aegon would never adore the throne as he did, nor would he ever desire it. Aegon wouldn't understand the fun and satisfaction of sitting on it with the blood of enemies surrounding the throne, as Aemond did.

He moved toward the throne, casting his gaze upon it with thoughts as dark as the night and his heart. The brutal sting of his childhood continued to haunt him, the most painful being inflicted by his father who believed he lacked the courage to tame any dragon. His own father did not stand up for him, even as his half sister enjoyed an entire room of support. Aemond's face lit up with a smile as he recalled how he silenced those old, foul individuals, especially his father and cousins. Even his elder brother Aegon adjusted his tone when speaking to him after that night, a stark contrast to a lifetime of mockery where Aemond felt that Jace was more his brother's blood than he was.

He relished this solitary moment within the dark night. Currently, it was exclusively his, with no one intruding between him and the throne. If anyone dared to come between him and his desires, he would remove them—anyone or anything. As in the end, he believed he deserved this, if not for a lifetime, at least for once. What he deserved, he should take, regardless of others' approval.

Seated on the throne, he let out a long, contented sigh. Only the gods knew how satisfying and relaxing it was for him; the unyielding, needle-like layer of iron provided warmth instead of wounds. It was meant to be rough, precious and heavy. He embraced these wounds, as they felt like nothing more than a slight feather pinch after the rigorous training with Criston since his childhood. Scars were like permanent companions on his skin.

Leaning back and resting his head, he extended his legs on the throne's arm. "Screw Aegon. That idiot doesn't even realize what he was getting and wasted it. All his life, he got everything… everything I wanted. Now, maybe I should claim what I want." Darker and uglier thoughts clouded his mind. Closing his eyes for a few seconds, he was alerted by the sound of footsteps. However, he remained undisturbed because the light, slow, and short footsteps unmistakably belonged to none other than Helaena, his beautiful and angelic sister.

Yet, he couldn't comprehend why a pure soul like her was there at this time. She should be in his chambers.

No not his chamber, in her shared chamber with Aegon. His expression betrayed a fidgety discomfort at the thought of Aegon and Helaena sharing one room. But he wouldn't mind her joining him in his chambers if that's what she desired. Oh, just how if she wanted that ! Aemond thought, recalling the times when his 10-year-old self used to fight and argue with his mother. He questioned why Helaena was marrying Aegon, ranting about a hundred degrading things about Aegon while carefully concealing his own secret desire for Helaena. Confessing such feelings in front of others was shameful, and his heart shattered again upon witnessing their marriage.

However, his desire for Helaena never diminished. Aegon never cared a bit about her; it was always Aemond fulfilling every duty a husband should, and it still pricked him that she couldn't see his love. Never did she express any desire to break free from her miserable marriage with Aegon. Aemond believed he could take better care of her, far better than anyone else ever could.

"Aemond, what are you doing here, sitting like this?" Helaena asked with a lightly sad voice, her teary eyes intensifying Aemond's guilt for not taking proper care of her.

"It's my place, sister. I can do anything now," Aemond's eyes gazed at Helaena, who wore a sheer white dress, holding a cloth bundle in her hands.

"What's that, Helaena?" She was clearly angry with Aemond, evident in the rigid and questioning expression on her face, holding him accountable for everything that happened with her son. Nobody understood that the war had already begun when their miserable father died and Aegon was crowned. Helena turned and started replying lightly, "Nothing, Aemond. Just keeping this cursed precious thing where it should be," walking away from him.

"Wait sister!" At first, she didn't stop. Seeing this, Aemond's voice became sharp and dominant. "Stop! I said." He moved straight to Helena and grabbed her wrists tightly, revealing the crown under that cloth. He took it from her and held her waist and wrist. "It's mine, love. The only place it belongs is with me now"

Helaena's face showed fear, especially as she witnessed the darkness in Aemond's eyes. His sapphire eye, on the other hand, was even more intimidating. His grip on her waist and wrist tightened and toughened, making her certain that it was no longer her baby brother before her, but a devil filled with the desire for power. For the first time in her life, she was scared of him ,so much that she wished he would vanish or that she could run away from him as far as possible. It wasn't that she wasn't aware of this; she had sensed the same cruel and malevolent aura from him when he lost his eye at driftmark, saying, "I lost an eye but gained a dragon." At that moment, she felt the boy lost his innocence too, corruption growing within him. Today, it seemed like that devil feeding inside him, while growing up, had taken a complete form and was ready to burst out.

"Leave me, brother," she muttered while closing her eyes, hissing slowly with a voice filled with hesitation, "It's hurting. You are hurting me, Aemond." She didn't want to look at his face, but he wasn't backing off. Instead, his hold was growing tighter, pulling her closer.

"Open your eyes, Helaena. See me, my sweet beautiful sister" cooed Aemond with a taunt-filled attitude. She shook her head, pleading lightly, "Please leave me." "Why are you frightened, my sweet angel? Frightened of your little brother?" He grabbed her chin tightly, bringing her face closer to his. "Why, Helaena? Were you never frightened of Aegon? Then why now?" released her chin . "This crown is mine, this throne is mine, and… you, Helaena," he stopped, gazing at her trembling form, refraining from uttering his desire. She was so beautiful, like an angel sent from heaven itself. Even in this miserable state, she looked heavenly, her tears resembling little diamonds that only enhanced her allure.

"No more tears now, Helaena. Now you are my responsibility, and I will take care of you. Don't worry about Aegon, mother, or anything else." After a pause, his eyes darkened with desire. He gently embraced Helaena's cheeks, saying, "Just… be with me." Upon hearing this, Helaena shuddered, breaking free from his grasp with all her energy.

"Disgusting! You are disgusting. Do you know what you are saying?" said Helaena, astonishment and anger evident on her teary face. Aemond, with a sly smile, replied, "I know what I am saying, angel. I think you must understand and obey what I say." With that, he grabbed her wrists and brought her into his arms with full force. His hand grazed her soft silver hair locks, while the other held her tightly to his chest. He declared, "Yes, from now onwards, you are going to listen and obey only me. In fact, you all are going to obey me. I am the Prince Regent now and it's not only the crown or throne that I want Helaena."

Helaena's energy drained in his tight and rough arms as she feared the realization of what he was saying. She stammered, "No… no, Aemond. I am your sister, your queen. I am already married to Aegon, your brother, our brother. You are insane. It's a sin, and it's not going to happen. Now, leave me," while struggling against his grips with all the small energy that allowed her tiny frame to resist her brother, who was way taller than her.

He chuckled wickedly, "You are so sweet, Helaena, so pure. You know, the queen title you are throwing at me is only because of Aegon, and that Aegon is now nothing but a walking, living corpse. The maester said he doesn't even have a chance of proper recovery, cannot produce any heir. If he dies, then you would be nothing but his widow with no power... but you can maintain your power by standing with me, obeying me, and being mine. Marry me, Helaena!"

Helaena remained shocked, unable to comprehend her little protective brother's disturbing transformation. "Aemond, you are not in the right state of mind. Think clearly and, for the Gods' sake, fear at least. The sin you are talking about should never happen, and you will have a queen that will be Floris," she said, still struggling to free herself from his grasp.

Anger flooded Aemond's face, evident in his tone. "I think you are the one who needs to understand Hel that I desired you all these years, way before your marriage with our pathetic Aegon," he added, his eyes filled with rage and a slight hint of tears. "Everything I wanted, everything I deserved, was never given to me. Even if I earned it, it was forcefully taken from me , father's love, a dragon, friends, a mother who should be proud of me, this crown, this throne, and you. But now, I know very well how to claim whatever I need and desire, and I will take that. You should be with me, Helaena, not Aegon. He was never worthy of you. I will give you everything you want; name it, and I will place it at your feet, the same way I brought Meley's head for you. I will kill anyone for you. Just say it !" It sounded more like a mixture of a demand and a plea.

"Bring Jaehaerys back, can you? Bring all that peace back ? And can you bring Luke back? You cannot, right… You cannot claim nature itself, Aemond" Helaena hissed bitterly at him. He paused, and she realized that his rage was clouding him; his body itself was shivering.

His hold on her loosened up for a bit, but it only scared her more. To Helaena, Aemond's silence in anger was more dangerous. The moment she tried to move away from him, his hands grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head quickly towards him. "Listen to me, Helaena. I love you a lot, and I do care for you always, but there is a limit to my patience. You know that really well, my sweet sister, don't you? I am not that little boy anymore," he whispered in her ear after briefly smelling her silver hair, as if it were the most enchanting scent. He added, "You want your son back, right? I want that too, Helaena. I feel your anger, but Aegon cannot provide you any child now." He tilted his head, looking at Helaena, who was just frightened. "I will give you your son, Helaena. I promise, our son," he declared, then kissed her cheek and earlobe.

"Say it. You love me, Helaena. Say you want me as your husband as well," he said with a velvety smooth voice and an irritated smile, but his grip on her became more hard and brutal.

Helaena shook her head, fear and anger in her eyes. "Don't do this, Aemond. I'm pleading you." "Say it, Helaena. Say that you love me as well," he ignored her pleas and tension as if nothing wrong were happening.

Helaena was terrified and tried her best to struggle and fight, attempting to free herself. "Aemond! I beg you, please leave me. Please brother, please," she cried. However, she knew it would not help her; instead, it was draining what little energy she had even more.

"Yes, I would very much love to see you beg, but not like this, Helaena. Now, say it," Aemond insisted.

Helaena stopped struggling and looked at him as if she were completely defeated. "Say it, Helaena. I am waiting, and it would only cause problems for you, my lovely sister."

She looked directly into his eyes. "You know, Aemond, you and Aegon have no difference. You are just like him. The truth is, you are much more dangerous than he ever was. In reality, Aegon just did those things without even realizing the consequences they could have been. He never took the lives and pain of others seriously and even himself. He was just a pawn dancing to all your thoughts. You were the main problem, Aemond. Always!" her tone becoming more confident " You were the one obsessed with bloodbath and killing anyone who came in your way. You tried to hide this a lot, but now everyone can see your inner evil self, brother. Even our mother can see it too. Now, I genuinely feel that Luke's death and Aegon's coronation were just excuses for you. You wanted to feed your inner animal that was hungry for revenge and power since childhood," she spat at his face, her mind fueled by the last remnants of determination.

Silence was all coming from Aemond and shock on his face from hearing her answer was visible. She continued, "Now what are you going to do, Aemond? Murder Aegon, definitely. Correct? I bet you were even thinking about this. Then you would kill our mother too if she opposes you, right?" Suddenly, a hard hit on her cheeks made her fall to the floor, her lips bruised and bleeding a little from his slap.

Aemond bent down to her level and grabbed her chin more brutally, causing her lips to bleed even more. "What… what were you saying about me, that I would kill my mother? How dare you ?" Aemond's tone was angry and terrifying, and Helaena was nothing but a crying mess on the floor.

"Oh Helaena, I sure wanted to kill Aegon. If I genuinely wanted to murder him, I would have done it way before. I've murdered him countless times in my head, but I would never do it, even if he deserved it. That rascal is my brother, sadly my own blood. I love Daeron and always admired him more than Aegon. You know, even the gentle soul like him cursed to me that I should have killed Aegon way before, and the same with Criston. Criston always wanted me to hold the power, but still, I never did and never would," he declared. Thunders and lightning outside, shining through the hall window, falling on Aemond's face, made him even scarier, resembling a devil from the Seven Hells taking human form. Helaena braced herself for another possible physical harm and just closed her eyes, shivering and praying to all her gods.

"Gods are not going to come for you, my sweet. Gods were never there for you; only I was," his voice softened again to her surprise. He gently grabbed her cheeks, and something in his tone made Helaena tremble less, calming her breath. He continued, keeping his forehead against hers, brushing her lips gently with his and his nose against hers while whispering sweetly, "Even now, gods would not save you. Only I can save you now, my love. But you hurt me, Helaena. You hurt me by showing what you clearly think of me. You were the last person I was expecting this from. How can you be so cruel to your little brother "

She slowly opened her eyes, her breath becoming heavy under this close, gentle, intimate touch of Aemond. She had never experienced this type of touch from any man; Aegon never cared about her, and the last time Jace was gentle, but only in a friendly way, nothing more. So this gentle touch from her little brother always melted her heart, even if she wanted to deny that situation. Her breaths were becoming much calmer but more anticipatory now.

Looking at Helaena's lips for a brief second, Aemond had a softness in his eyes. "I didn't want to do that, Helaena. I would never… I am not guilty of wanting everything I love, but you are the only desire I am guilty of," he said gently while grazing her lips with his and then slowly licking the full trail of blood from her lips, falling to her chin.

"I always loved you, Hel. You don't even have any idea how much I want you," he murmured while kissing her lips and jawline, licking every trace of her blood. The way he was enjoying it looked like it was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.

Helaena should run away from him right now or slap him, hurt him, take his other eye out, but her body was betraying her, as if it just wanted to stay with him, under his warmth. She looked at his face and his eye, filled with love. The sapphire in the other eye looked so beautiful. A sudden desire in her wanted to touch it and feel his pain. "Helaena, are you listening to me? Did you never feel any emotion towards me? Did you never like me or even for once realize how badly I was in love with you?" asked Aemond, his eyes filled with sadness and rage, as if he were on the verge of tears.

At that moment, she just remembered her little brother, the Aemond who was just a pretty angry little boy, always stuck to her mother's cloth, who always helped her, listened to her, and many times stood against Aegon when he made fun of her. Where was that boy gone? No matter how much shyness and obedience he showed, Aemond had always found ways to get the things he wanted since childhood. She remembered how, on her 14th nameday, a servant boy who was once close to Jace dropped hot drink on her dress. Aemond almost beat him to death until it became a huge problem for their mother. Then Aemond asked Criston for help to clear this matter, promising him triple times the training as punishment. Also, when he was 7, he wanted a toy sword that was a gift given to Aegon by their mother and the Hightower family. He used to do all his and both Aegon's work, clean up all their mess, never spreading a single bit of dirt like other kids to impress their mother. But he never ate anything, making himself ill for a week, which worried their mother. Later, he got one too, a sword even better than Aegon's.

She moved her fingers to the sapphire in his eye, gliding gently like feathers on that cold stone, and slowly traced her finger on his face, grazing his scar. At that moment, the tension to fight the inner desire was rising high between them. No one spoke a single word for a moment; there was only the sound of their breathings and nothing more. Helaena was lost in her own old thoughts while grazing his scar when Aemond grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers as if he would die if he didn't.

"Aemond," a sheer sigh escaped from her lips. Aemond grabbed her face with all his force, as if she were some precious thing that someone would immediately take away from him. "Please, Helaena, give me a chance. I would give you everything more than anyone else would ever give. Would you not give me a single chance?" Helaena couldn't decide whether he was begging or demanding her love; it was a rare occasion to see Aemond Targaryen pleading, begging, or crying.

"Say it, Helaena. You do love me, right?" He jumped, pleading like a little child who just wants a new piece of jewellery or some new toy. His eyes filled with plead and lust, trailing sharp kisses on her cheeks, nose, and eyes. "Say it."

Should she? Should she accept him? Thought Helaena, for a moment realizing where all her shame had gone. She was fighting with him just minutes before, now sitting still like his doll, letting him do or play with her however he wants. It was wrong of her, wrong of both of them to behave like this, especially when her husband was struggling to even breathe properly. Mother would never be proud; it went against her faith and her religion.

Or maybe… he is right. It would be so cruel of her to reject what his little brother wants. After all, he was there for her all these times. Can she not support him even for once? And he has suffered so much. "What would people say, Aemond? What would our family say? I am married to Aegon?" Helaena whimpered, melting under his warm frame. Aemond stopped and, meeting her eyes, smirked. "Don't need to worry about them. No one should lay a finger on you. They have to do what I say, and we are Targaryens, Helaena. Your marriage to Aegon was already a one-day poignant drama for me, nothing more. We are doing nothing wrong. I will take you in our Valyrian tradition, make you mine," he said looking at her intently, demanding an answer or any gesture of approval, never releasing the hold of her face.

In a sudden moment, he kissed her so hard, like the world was ending, not giving her a proper second to breathe, devouring her lips. His sudden painful bite made Helaena tremble with a lazy moan and, parted for a second to breathe, he whispered, "fuck it Hel, I am going to marry you right now." After a brief silence, Helaena gave a long tiring sigh resting her head on his shoulder "you are so stubborn Aemond" she said, looking at him with dizziness taking over

[natsuki208]

Lullaby For a Stormy Night 🌙

It’s been years since this has happened, but Ciel wishes for Sebastian’s comfort to assist during the truly wild storm outside.

———

How sad. As a demon, he has no need for sleep like mortal beings. Because of this, he stays up all night in his tiny room reading a couple of books from the major’s library. Either that or preparing plans for tomorrow’s breakfast within his head.

But that isn’t the present problem; it’s the fact that he cannot concentrate on neither due to the loud thundery commotion outside these walls.

This is certainly nowhere near an April shower, the sky is much darker and greyer than usual, winds howling like wolves, rain pouring down in buckets, and to top it all off, the thunder and lightning pattern going mad. Every couple of minutes don’t go by without a bright flash accompanied by a roaring bang.

Sebastian has witnessed storms such as this many times before, but it gets irritating after a while when no being able to have some peace after another long day - and the thought of Finny or the other servants begging to stay with him for the whole night.

Suddenly, another sound occurs. It isn’t a natural sound that comes with a thunderstorm, and it’s mostly from the direction of the bedroom door. Did Sebastian thought too soon? Are the servants crowding outside with puppy dog eyes? Like that would ever work.

“Yes?” The demon questions with a monotone voice, placing down his book onto his lap.

The door softly opens - so it cannot be the bothersome trio - but instead, he sees only one eye peep in. One which Sebastian is all too familiar with.

If the teal coloured eye isn’t convincing enough, then the other eye being covered by the white eyepatch would certainly give it away. The young lord himself appears to be anxious, blushing red like a spring rose, and begins walking slowly towards the bed. This is an honest surprise to the demon; he hasn’t seen his boy in this state in a good long while. But still, he keeps his composure and allows him to rest on the side of the mattress.

It takes a silent minute for Sebastian to wait for a response, paying close attention to the young earl’s nervousness like a hawk, before starting the conversation himself.

“Whatever could be the matter, young master?”

That title. Usually it wouldn’t bother the boy in the slightest, not in the last three years at least, but now it makes his skin crawl. He shuts his one eye in disgust.

“I thought I told you to cut the act.” He replies annoyingly.

Sebastian quickly remembered. No other statement can make this demon any more glad, or at least, bring an honest smile to his face. He gets the strength to properly posture himself while sitting up in his bed, fully engage with their ongoing talk.

“That’s right. I apologise… Ciel. It’s a force of habit still.” He continues with a more fatherly tone now.

Memories of the old days come flowing back to the boy once Sebastian said his name. It almost has him face the demon in the eyes, but with a little restraint, isn’t ready yet until he gives out his piece. Speaking of which, that’s exactly what Sebastian is primarily curious about.

“Now, whatever could be wrong? It is very rare for you to come and see me during the night like this.”

“I…” He pauses. For the first time in ages, she shows genuine embarrassment. Clutching tightly onto his nightgown, he gains enough courage to look right at the eyes of his adoptive parent. The smile presenting calms his nerves just a tad. “I cannot sleep with the blasted weather outside.”

“Oh, is that so?” Sebastian wonders, he knows there’s more to it than what Ciel implied, so he adds in a teasing tone.

“Y-Yes. I’m fully aware of the busy schedule I have for tomorrow… and so I need proper sleep to feel more motivated.”

Ciel hesitated, and he gulped in between that sentence. There’s something bothering him for certain.

“So what do you wish for me to do about it?” The demon asks calmly. “Clear the storm away? It’s not a problem for me in the slightest. Although it’s not very mundane to mess with Mother Nature.”

The irritated boy opens his mouth again, as to share yet another complaint, when in that moment…

*BANG!*

Thunder booms much louder this time, causing Ciel to let out a tiny shriek under his breath, lying face down onto the bed in embarrassment.

No words are needed to express to Sebastian how his child’s really feeling. As many humans say: actions are much louder. Knowing this, he’s motivated to reach out his hand to gently pat Ciel’s hair, and so he does. The best part is that the boy doesn’t smack his hand away like normally does these days, instead, he embraces it. Now this surely brings back an old warm glow inside which Sebastian thought was lost since that fateful day.

Once Ciel’s breathing slows, the demon shares his response.

“I see now. There’s no need to be so shameful, Ciel. Many humans can hardly bare the ruckus which are thunderstorms; not just the ones around your age either.”

“Don’t patronise me in that way.” Ciel muffles into the sheets, but can still be heard by his parental figure.

Despite their bond being slowly stitched back together ever since the unplanned events of the Campania, his child will never lost that sharp tongue he developed. Which can be argued as being a typical teenage thing but still.

A quiet chuckle vibrates in Sebastian’s throat. “Well, forgive me for trying to give good comfort then.”

Ciel raises his head slightly from the bed sheets (brief tears are visible) before the rest of his body follows until he’s now sitting up in front of the demon. Wiping his uncovered eye, he goes quiet. He wants to continue but can’t think of the right words. So Sebastian has to once again repeat the previous question he started with.

“Is there a more mundane way you wish for me to help in this time of need?”

‘Why say it as if it’s a final request?’ The boy thinks to himself.

There is something he secretly wants Sebastian to offer, but doesn’t know how to explain. All he wants is for fatherly comfort again, but is mortified to express it verbally. He isn’t so little anymore, he’s the Earl of the Phantomhive manor now, the last thing he needs is to be pampered like a sensitive infant again. But he really misses it.

Whilst hesitating, he quickly glances at the gesture Sebastian is now making. Patting the free space beside him; clearly encouraging him to relax. He could ponder on how he can read his mind so easily, but hey, that’s a common parent thing. Ciel actually falls through with it and shifts to that very spot on the bed. The pillow is soft, as plush as the one in his own bedroom.

Feeling at ease, he stares up at Sebastian whom returns a friendly gaze and smile back at him.

“Don’t ever tell that I requested this with anyone, got it?” Ciel demands, but it isn’t angrily, more like peacefully asking.

“Of course not. I would never.” Sebastian assures his child with such a honest tone. Ciel trusts him.

“I-I want you to sing. Not too loudly, as the servants will hear you. Do so until I’ve fallen asleep.”

There it is. Sebastian expected this from the very beginning. It took longer than he anticipated, but it’s out now. The demon could not feel any more thankful that Ciel came to terms with their bond after so long, or else he’d never hear this sort of request ever again. But enough stalling, Sebastian resumes the loving stroking of Ciel’s hair and whispers as to not disturb the peace.

“Certainly, my child.”

He lies down onto his side, his hand moves down to lightly rub Ciel’s arm, and begins to sing in the tone similar to a soft breeze.

-

Little child, be not afraid, Though rain pounds harshly against the glass. Like an unwanted stranger, there is no danger, I am here tonight.

Little child, be not afraid, Though thunder explodes and lightning flash. Illuminates your tear-stained face, I am here tonight.

And someday you'll know, that nature is so, The same rain that draws you near me. Falls on rivers and land, on forests and sand, Makes the beautiful world that you'll see. In the morning.

-

The lullaby continues, memories of the old nights of a younger Ciel cradled in his arms flow back like a river, they almost forget about the storm outside.

Ciel can feel his eyes drooping to close; he doesn’t shake them back open. He simply goes along with the sweet melody until he’s fully blacked out.

After the second chorus, Sebastian is fully aware that his boy is off back to dreamland by now, and so he sits back up onto the bed and carefully picks him up as to not wake him. He slowly opens the door and makes his way down the hallway, all while Ciel is carried safely in Sebastian’s arms like he’s a tiny child again. The winds are still blustering like crazy however, so Sebastian continues the song as a soothing distraction with the same genuine smile.

-

And someday you'll know, that nature is so, The same rain that draws you near me. Falls on rivers and land, on forests and sand, Makes the beautiful world that you'll see. In the morning.

Everything's fine in the morning. The rain'll be gone in the morning. But I'll still be here in the morning.

There will be a very stormy wind happening where I’m from, and so, I wrote this to comfort me during this time. I hope you guys like it as well. Stay safe. 👋

Song: link

[peaceoutofthepieces]

4 + kandreil for the ask game ? hope you’re doing well <33

you could not have chosen better tysm

4. Shut-Up Kiss

Andrew berates Neil endlessly for running his mouth, but Neil has never known anyone to rant as pointlessly and frequently as Kevin. Sometimes it's almost charming; Kevin's love for history sends him on tangents of fascination every now and again, especially with a drink or two loosening his tongue, and his genuine respect and fanboy adoration for the Trojans—and Jeremy Knox—is almost sweet. Sometimes it's concerning; Kevin's breathing turns ragged and his eyes grow foggy when his mind returns to the Nest, and sometimes, now, commentary will come with it, the knowledge that Riko can't touch him anymore allowing Kevin to tell some of the stories that have refused to die with Riko, at least when Andrew and Neil are the only ones around to hear it.

Other times, it's annoying as shit. In these instances, Neil cannot help thinking Kevin's tattoo is glaringly accurate.

Kevin is nothing if not a drama queen.

"You have been doing this drill for two years," Kevin rants now, eyes full of thundery frustration as he looks down at Neil. "You should have long perfected it, even without the addition of your captaincy, and soon I will not be here to pick up your slack. I do not understand how you expect to–"

The thing about Kevin's ranting now is that it's annoying as shit, but the angrier Neil is at Kevin these days the more he wants him. Neil doesn't—will never—find Kevin's scoldings endearing or amusing or anything of the sort, too short of temper as he is, but he has always found a pull in response to Kevin's fire because of how terribly it matches his own.

The thing about Kevin's ranting now is that Neil can still fantasise about punching him while kissing him instead.

Kevin makes a noise against Neil's mouth, indignant and pissed off and wanting, and the fire in Neil's veins stokes higher, burns hotter. He curls a hand around Kevin's neck and draws him down, down, satisfied only when Kevin's arms fall to his waist and pull him up in response.

They only startle apart when a ball thwacks the floor a few inches from their feet, both breathing hard. Neil feels a savage smile curl his lips at the sight of Kevin's hooded eyes, his lips parted and silent.

Then he looks over at Andrew, who appears as bored as ever to anyone who knows him less, but to Neil is amused and annoyed and interested all at once, if only for how his gaze bores into them. He raises an eyebrow at Neil, and Neil is shrugging before he has even consciously decoded the expression, agreeing yes, alright, I'm stealing your moves now.

"Thanks for the show," Andrew says, dryly, and Kevin makes another wordless noise somewhere between dismissive and craving. "Are you done yet?"

To give credit where credit is due, in the past few months of embedding himself more deeply in them than ever before, Kevin had found the remainder of his spine and has been learning to recover himself remarkably quickly. He presses his palm to the dip of Neil's spine and meets Andrew's eyes to return, "Eager to get back to the dorms?"

Andrew flicks his gaze over to Neil, and Neil obliges; Andrew is not quite close enough, but Neil is more than happy to kiss Kevin quiet again.

send me a number + ship

[carlos-in-glasses]

Thank you for the tags @orchidscript @thisbuildinghasfeelings @kiwichaeng @strandnreyes @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @ladytessa74 @heartstringsduet 💚

This is from Chapter 10 of Where All This Love Comes From. I mentioned it on Sunday but will again: This chapter is perhaps the heaviest and reader discretion is advised.

Sunday September 11, 2016

It's a beautiful, cloudless morning – undisturbed sunrise climbs the silvery windows of One World Trade Center. Each pane turns pink, orange, gold, and then blue. The building is designed to reflect the sky back to itself. A place, TK thinks, where light comes to dance or relax. He’s been inside before – about hallway up, remembering right – because a copier caught fire. Everyone was fine; the fire put out by extinguishers by the time he arrived. It was a thundery day in spring. Rain poured down the windows so dramatically it was like being in an open plan office built behind a waterfall.

“Are you ready, son?” Owen says.

It’s then TK realizes he’s been staring at the skyscraper instead of paying attention to the memorial, the thousands of names etched into granite. An elegant, attractive commemoration that Owen was moved to tears by when it was unveiled. TK remembers him becoming emotional when he saw it in person for the first time, the way he spread a hand wide and planted it over the names of his fallen brothers from the 252. One of them, Lawrence ‘Loki’ Keery, was only identified by his somehow-intact left hand, because he had a small tattoo of the sun, moon and stars across the heel of his palm. Owen, perhaps recklessly, described this to TK when he was just a kid, and TK has never shaken the image of a family burying only a hand.

TK nods. The weather forecast says it’ll be mellow and warm later, but it’s chilly now. He shivers in his blue hoodie, his fists stuffed into his pockets. He hopes Owen isn’t picking up on him shaking more than normal. Hopes Owen hasn’t noticed his face drained of all color, the grayness beneath his eyes, how hollow his cheeks are these days. He hasn’t said anything – not yet anyway.

TK follows Owen, a little sore when he walks but trying to keep a straight back and a good pace. Two nights ago, he got loaded on pills and had sex with guy called Todd or Toby, but then there was this other guy – he’s not sure where he came from...

Open tags and tags under the cut:

Tagging with no pressure ever: @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @paperstorm @reyesstrand @goodways @bonheur-cafe @chaotictarlos @lightningboltreader @liminalmemories21 @lemonlyman-dotcom @alrightbuckaroo @eclectic-sassycoweyes @noxsoulmate @herefortarlos @sanjuwrites @wandering-night19 @redshirt2 @louis-ii-reyes-strand @carlos-tk @taralaurel @fallout-mars @sugdenlovesdingle @sznofthesticks @inkweedandlizards @whatsintheboxmh @jesuisici33 @three-drink-amy @ambiguouspenny @chicgeekgirl89 @theghostofashton @freneticfloetry @never-blooms @rmd-writes @welcometololaland - if you want to share/haven't already ❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙🩵💜