#WE WERE IN THE GOLD ROOM WHERE EVERYONE FINALLY GETS WHAT THEY WANT SO I SAID WHAT DO YOU WANT SWEETHEART

[tinogiehd]

YOU WROTE THE GOLD ROOM?

my magnum opus….

[ellecdc]

Black!reader that is “I don’t smoke” (mitski) because if their parents ‘you need to be mean be mean to her me, she I can take it and put it inside of me’

hi babes, this was my take on Black!reader who was always hurting on behalf of everyone else. this fic is very angsty compared to my usual standards, so please keep that in mind before reading, and mind the warnings. of course, as typical on ellecdc we have a happy/hopeful ending

Remus Lupin x Black!sister reader after The Prank™ [4.7k words]

CW: The Prank™, Black family trauma, the Marauders aren't speaking to each other, depressive episodes and self-loathing, siblings get quasi-violent/threats of violence? but for a good cause?, Remus' typical self-loathing, discussion of forgiveness and hatred, breaking up [not pictured] and making up [pictured]

The worst part-

Though, even the thought caused Sirius to scoff humourlessly, because what could possibly be the worst part of this? What could possibly be any ‘more worse’ than the worst thing he’d ever done?

Still, Sirius supposed, wand to his head, the worst thing about all of this would be the fact that Sirius didn’t regret it. Not really.

If anything, he only felt stronger in his conviction that Snape deserved to be mauled violently to death.

Yet…

Yet he didn’t find he felt particularly good about it all; about the way Remus woke up with new, deep, angry scars across his face courtesy of The Wolf who finally had a chance at a meal only to have that stolen before he turned on himself, about the way he looked at Sirius with an expression of pure unadulterated betrayal and then fury when he realised what he had done, about the three well aimed hits he took from James, nor about the way he had to listen through the door as Remus ended your relationship with you, officially giving into all of his deep-seeded self-loathing and beliefs that no one could or should possibly accept him.

And all Sirius managed to do was prove that to be true; that Remus couldn’t trust anyone. And as a result, he robbed you of the only love you had access to save what little you received from Regulus and Sirius.

So perhaps Sirius regretted that, but without access to a Time Turner, there was nothing to be done. 

There was nothing to be done. 

James had told him that “until he made things right with Remus, he wanted nothing to do with him”, and while he didn’t blame James, Sirius knew he was officially on his own because there would be no ‘making things right’. There was nothing right, not with Sirius, at least. 

Everything about Sirius was wrong.

There was nothing to be done. 

He brought the cigarette back up to his lips, the sensitive skin at the corner of his mouth cracking painfully as he took a drag. He appreciated the sting as his teeth started to taste like iron; the pain was both a welcome reminder and a distraction of his inner turmoil as he kept his gaze on the grounds below him.

He couldn’t look at the common room; the red and gold that once felt like home had faded into shades of grey. He couldn’t look in a mirror; his permanently downturned lips and angry eyes found him looking more like his father than he did himself. He couldn’t look at his hands; they were blistered and cracked from his tryst in the forest where he emptied his lungs by screaming until he was choking on air and punching uselessly at a tree.

He couldn’t look at any of his friends, because they couldn’t even look at him; they hated him.

He was hated. 

Sirius began to wonder how many more classes he could miss before McGonagall followed through on her threats to write home when the portrait hole opened.

He couldn’t look, though. Because he was hated.

“Aren’t you meant to be in class?” He heard you call to him, listening to your measured steps as you made your way to his spot on a windowsill. 

“I could ask the same of you.” He gruffed; voice cracking from disuse, from chain smoking, and from the perpetual tightness he had felt since That Night. 

“What are you doing, Sirius?” You sighed; you were exhausted. Exhausted of him. 

He was exhausted too.

“I’m minding my business, Y/N.” He spat back, stubbing out his smoke before lighting another one with a snap of his fingers. “You should try it sometime.” 

With a wave of your hand, the smoke was gone.

“What the fuck?”

“Get up.” You ordered simply, and Sirius shook his head at you.

“Go back to the dungeons.”

“No.” 

“I’m not in the fucking mood, Y/N.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Great, neither am I.” 

“I don’t want you here.”

“And I don’t want to be here,” You agreed, voice rising at Sirius’ petulance, “but I’ve got a brother who decided to stop functioning a few weeks ago, so here I am.” 

“I’m perfectly fine.”

“You smell.”

“Yeah well, you’re ugly.” Sirius sneered, pulling out another cigarette only for you to vanish the entire pack. 

“When was the last time you showered?” You demanded, and Sirius refused to look at you.

“Hm? Or changed? Or ate? When’s the last time you brushed your teeth?”

Sirius kept his gaze pointed at the grounds outside. 

“Sirius. Your hair is greasy, you smell stale, you look gaunt, and…they’re going to write home.”

“Good.” Sirius spat quickly. “As they should.”

“Is that what you want, Sirius? You want more people to be mad at you? More people to punish you?”

He didn’t answer.

“You’re already doing that enough for the rest of us.” You sighed, attempting to grab him by the arm only for him to shove you away. 

“Get away from me, Y/N, I mean it.” 

“No, get up.”

“Fuck off.”

“Now.” You nearly growled, and Sirius turned to see you aiming your wand in his direction, surprising a sarcastic laugh from him.

“What? Gonna hex me? Or are you gonna skip right to the Unforgivables, hm? Maybe an imperio? Or are you going to try some negative reinforcement? A crucio for disobedience? Salope stupide, de plus en plus comme ma mère chérie chaque jour.” (translation: stupid bitch, more and more like mother dearest every day)

Sirius flinched as you quickly raised your hand, prepared for a blow that you never landed. 

He looked back to see you standing there, hand poised like it was ready to hit him as you stared at him defiantly; your cool, piercing eyes so much like his own, but the displeased pinch of your mouth was that of your mother. 

“Is that what you want, Sirius? Huh? You want to be walloped a few more times on the nose so that everyone knows what a bad dog you are? You want to be punished for your misdeeds? Maybe get a few more of these?” And you punctuated your question by roughly grabbing at his jaw, fingers pressing into the painful bruises still colouring his cheeks courtesy of James. “That’s why you haven’t bothered healing them, yeah? So that everyone who sees will know what a right bastard you are."

He smacked your hand away with one arm and shoved you away from him with the other. 

“Or,” you continued - rather unphased by Sirius’ aggression - grabbing his balled up fist and bringing it up to your own face, “is it me you want to hit, hm? You want everyone else to hurt just as badly as you are? The world has been just terrible to you Sirius, you were dealt an awful hand! You just want everyone to suffer for it; to pay for the wrongs done to you.”

“Stop it.” Sirius hissed, trying to yank his hand away from you to no avail. 

“Hit me then, Sirius. Hit me. You wanna give into that Black Darkness? Want to be just as bad as they are? Just as bad as they’ve painted you to be? Go ahead.” 

“Stop.” 

“Then get up.” 

“Y/N…” He warned.

“Get up, Sirius.” 

“I hate you.” He spat, and your jaw tightened but you rolled your eyes as if you found him to be quite tiresome.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like you very much right now either.” 

He stood then, giving you no time to get out of his way before he was towering over you. You never faltered, though. He let you grab him by the sleeve of his shirt, he let you drag him up the stairs towards his dormitory - somewhere he hadn’t been since That Night, opting instead to sleep on the couches, a time or two in the room of requirement, and one night in the Shrieking Shack as Padfoot - and he let you bodily shove him into the boys’ bathroom. 

“Get in the shower, Sirius.”

“Sunny, please.”

“I’m not asking.” You said firmly. “Get in the shower.”

“I can’t.” 

You swore under your breath as you dragged him over to the shower stall, said nothing as he went no bones and sunk to the floor, and simply turned the shower on, soaking you both.

“Y/N, stop.” 

“Sirius, if you’re not going to take care of yourself, I will. Those are your choices.” You said defiantly, staring down at him as your school uniform became more and more drenched and your hair started sticking to the side of your neck.

Sirius let out a sigh and rested his head against his knees, and you accepted his relenting as the acquiescence it was. 

You pointed the shower head at him and began lathering soap into his hair before doing much the same with the conditioner. 

Sirius let the soap burn his eyes; welcomed it, even. He did nothing to help you with your tasks, though you didn’t ask him to. He did, however, draw the line at you trying to disrobe him.

“These need to come off, Sirius.” You said, pulling at his uniform shirt like something disgusting you found in a gutter.

“And I will take them off once you’re no longer staring at me.” He growled, causing you to scoff a humourless laugh.

“Like hells I’m letting you out of my sight again.”

Sirius simply groaned. 

“How are you going to wash your body, Sirius? Please don’t tell me you’re going to make me do that too.”

Sirius ripped the bar of soap out of your hands and glared at you as he shoved it beneath his clothes, washing himself the best he could under his sopping wet uniform. 

Though he was more than likely still sudsy, you shut the water off and vanished what water you could from both of your beings; each of your heads and uniforms still dripping wet as you flung open the bathroom door and marched across the hall.

Sirius’ mouth ran dry when you knocked on their dormitory door; somewhere between you confronting him in the common room and forcing him to bathe, classes seemed to have ended. 

He should’ve flung himself out of the common room window when he had the chance; he couldn’t see Remus, James, or Peter. They hated him.

He was hated.

Remus wouldn’t talk to any of them, and James and Peter weren’t talking to Sirius. Even though Remus had told them he didn’t want them “taking sides”, he didn’t seem too bothered watching Sirius get iced out. 

Because he hated him.

Sirius was hated. 

“Oh…hi, Y/N…” James offered awkwardly as he opened the door. 

You barely spared him a glance. “Potter.” You greeted simply as you dipped under his arm which had been holding the door open and marched towards Sirius’ bed. 

Remus pulled his head through the hole of his jumper as he watched you start digging through Sirius’ trunk, sharing a quick glance with James and Peter before his gaze moved to Sirius all but cowering in the doorframe. 

“Are you…wet?” Peter asked cautiously then, all three boys staring at you in bemusement as you packed up a duffle. 

“Yeah.” You responded simply, throwing Sirius a towel that he (thankfully) caught as everyone’s eyes fell to him. 

Sirius quickly ran the towel over his person as you let his trunk close with a loud thunk, hiked the bag you packed for him over your shoulder, and stalked out of the dorm room without sparing any of the boys - including your ex boyfriend - a passing glance. 

“Don’t you hate me?” Sirius whispered as he allowed you to lead him to the Slytherin dorms.

“No, Sirius. I hate what you did.” You sighed, never faltering in your steps but strengthening your hold on your brother's wrist. “I love you, that’s why I’m here.” 

Remus had tried telling Peter and James to leave him alone; he wanted to be alone. 

Yet somehow, every morning, the two of them would sit across from him in the Great Hall, say hello, and then talk amongst themselves whilst pretending he wasn’t there. 

That was fine, though. Remus was sort of pretending he wasn’t there, too. 

But while Remus could ignore James and Peter’s existence, Sirius’ existence, and even his own if he really tried hard enough, he couldn’t ignore your existence. 

He’d been more than slightly confused when you stormed into his dorm room last night completely drenched without your eyes ever cutting to him and packed up a bag for your equally drenched brother. 

He’d been more than slightly hurt when you left without sparing him a glance, too. Though he figured perhaps he deserved that. This is what he wanted, right?

Scratch that, actually, what he had wanted was to be safe and loved and protected by the people who promised to do that for him. That was what he had wanted.

It wasn’t until Peter and James paused in their conversation to look at Remus concernedly that he realised he had caused his tea to overflow by means of accidental magic. 

Remus threw a wad of napkins at the mess as he made to stand, but his legs felt wholly incapable of holding him up when he saw you enter the Great Hall, quickly followed by a rather dispirited looking Sirius who nearly bumped into you as you paused at the entrance.

Your gaze automatically fell to the Slytherin table where Regulus was shooting you and Sirius a perturbed look. 

You turned then towards the Gryffindor table when your gaze fell to Remus.

He found himself unable to break your gaze; he wondered if you could see the heartbreak pooling in his eyes, or the longing painted in the space between his brows.

He wondered if you could even manage to see past the new, ferocious scars decorating his face.

He certainly couldn’t. 

Your shoulders fell as you shook your head - so minutely that Remus wondered if he had only imagined it - before you grabbed Sirius’ sleeve and dragged him towards the Ravenclaw table where both Pandora and Benjy accepted the pair of you without issue. 

He was simultaneously grateful that neither of you were sitting over here and furious that the two of you deigned to sit anywhere else. You were his; his friend, and his girlfriend, you were supposed to be here with him. 

But he didn’t want either of you over here, he didn’t want… 

He didn’t…

“Moony?” James asked cautiously.

“Don’t call me that.” Remus spat before he stood abruptly and stormed out of the Great Hall. 

He never wanted any of this; sure, he wanted to go to school, but he never wanted friends. He didn’t need friends, he’d never had them before. He met some kind kids on the train who ended up being his roommates, but he was ready and willing to hold them at arm's length. 

And then…

And then he found that he rather liked their company, and that they seemed to enjoy his. And then he found that he cared for them, and that they seemed to care for him. And then they found out, and they were accepting of him. And then they did the impossible and found a way to be there for him like no one else before, they showed up for him in ways no one else had ever tried, in ways he never imagined possible. 

And then he fell in love, and then…

And then. 

And then one of the worst people Remus could imagine to know learned of his darkest secret, his biggest shame, his lifelong curse. 

And he learned that from one of his best friends; Snape learned of Remus’ darkest secret, biggest shame, and lifelong curse from one of his best friends. 

And suddenly, everything everyone had ever said about lycanthropy was true; he was a monster, unloveable, a threat and hazard to everyone around him.

And as he paused in front of a window where he could see his reflection - three violent claw marks stretching from his left eye across the bridge of his nose down over his lips - the monster stared back at him. 

He was a beast. He was a monster playing dress up; cosplaying as a wizard day in and day out when in reality, deep down, he was a vicious, disgusting freak. 

And now everyone knew it; Sirius knew it, you knew it, Snape knew it.

And for those who didn’t know it, they could suspect it; rumours flying around of how Remus managed to be mauled by some creature and survive to tell the tale, because the only thing scarier than a beast among men is a man that can take on a beast and live to tell the tale.

The worst part-

But the thought made Remus snort humourlessly, because really, how could there be a worst part of any of this? What could possibly be ‘more worse’ than the worst thing to ever happen to him, second only to being bitten all those years ago. 

But Remus supposed, wand to his head, that the worst part of all of this was losing you.

Remus let out another humourless chuckle as he let his head fall with a thunk against the windowpane. 

And the absolute fucking kicker was that losing you had been his own doing. 

For the first time in perhaps five days, you were alone. 

You sat in the farthest corner of the library near rows of tomes with enough layers of dust on them to promise you some solitude as you waited for Sirius’ meeting with McGonagall to end. 

You’d convinced him (rather forced him) to start attending his classes again, though you were certain he wasn’t exactly a delight to have in the classroom at the moment. You only hoped it was enough for the school to refrain from writing home.

You dropped your quill and pressed your fingers into your eyes hard enough to see stars. Sirius was displeased with you for ordering him about. Regulus was displeased with you for babysitting Sirius and ‘cleaning up’ after him. Your parents were displeased with you seemingly because you were born with free will. Your professors were displeased with you for submitting sloppy work because you spent the majority of your time doing Sirius’ for him in order to keep him from being expelled. Your roommates were displeased with you for smuggling a dog into your room for the past week, even though he was very well behaved and slept dutifully on the end of your bed. And Remus…

And Remus. 

He had looked so hollow and… dead when he told you this needed to end, that he couldn’t see you anymore. You didn’t think he was capable of occlusion, but that was the only thing that could possibly explain how he could manage to look at you like you didn’t even matter to him anymore.

Perhaps you didn’t.

You didn’t matter. 

Perhaps you were too much like your brother; he couldn’t forgive him, so you were unforgivable too. Perhaps you were just too much of a Black for him; perhaps he realised the mistake in keeping your kind around. 

You couldn’t blame him, you supposed.

You were a tiresome bunch. You didn’t often want to keep your kind around, either. 

You shook yourself out of your pity party and returned to your notes, only to watch as Remus pulled out a chair opposite of you at your table. 

“The library’s plenty large, Lupin; I’m sure if you looked harder you could find another table.” you offered, hoping for indignation but landing somewhere around disheartened. 

“Is Sirius alright?” He murmured quietly, and you forced your eyes up to meet his. 

He looked dead tired; his eyes were sunken and his skin was missing its warm glow. But in his eyes laid an earnestness that had you remembering just how wholly safe and full you felt whenever you found yourself pinned beneath his gaze. 

You quickly looked away.

“Not really.” You replied honestly. “But I think he deserves that.” 

Remus made a noncommittal sound as he continued staring at the top of your head; you couldn’t see it, mind you, but you could certainly feel it.

“And you?” 

“What about me?”

“Are you alright?”

“Why?” You demanded, and you looked up in time to see Remus finally look down into his lap. 

You stared at him as he wrung his hands in his lap while you catalogued the scars across his face. You wondered if where they landed over his eyes caused him any vision issues. You wondered what the ones over the bridge of his nose would feel like as you traced your fingertip over them. You wondered what the ones on his lips might feel like under your own. 

You hated them, knowing that he did too, knowing how he came to have them. But you loved them because they were his, because it was him. Because you loved him. 

“Are you alright?” You decided to ask then, and he looked up at you as if he was surprised you were still there.

“No.” He responded quickly.

“I’m sorry.” You offered, though you knew not what for. You really hadn’t done anything. 

“How-” Remus started, though he quickly looked back down at his hands as he searched for the words.

You waited for him. 

“How…can you help him?”

You felt your eyebrows furrow, because whatever you thought Remus might’ve been about to ask, it certainly wasn’t that. 

“What?” You asked dumbly. 

“How can you help Sirius? After all that he’s done?” He continued gently.

“I… because, Remus, someone has to.” 

Remus nodded as he considered your response. “There’s a… part of me that feels as though you’re choosing him over me.” 

“Remus. You chose; you made that decision for me. I didn’t choose anyone’s side.”

“So if we were still dating right now, would you have forgiven Sirius?”

“Forgiven?” You repeated incredulously. “Who said anything about forgiveness?” 

Remus simply blinked at you owlishly. 

“Remus, I cannot just sit here and let him whither away into nothing because I’m mad at him. He fucked up - big time - there’s no question about it. And deep down, I know he knows that too; that’s why he’s been torturing himself over it. There is no way in which I could treat him that would be worse than the way he’s treating himself right now. But I-”

You shook your head as you fought off the stinging in your sinuses; you did not want to cry in front of him. 

“There is no one rooting for us, Remus. No one. You’re pissed at him - rightfully so, and completely justified - Potter and Pettigrew are pissed at him too, he’s pissed at himself and I… someone has to, Remus. Someone has to root for him, I can’t…I can’t just abandon him, not when there’s no one else.” 

“I can’t… I can’t feel bad for him, Y/N.” Remus exclaimed helplessly. 

“I’m not asking you to; I’m simply telling you why I do.” 

“I don’t…I don’t know how to forgive him, dove, I don’t know how to not hate him for this.” He nearly sobbed, holding his hands out helplessly as if the grief and torment were tangible things that he could crush in the palm of his hands if only he could catch them. “Why don’t you hate him? Please tell me? Because I genuinely want to know. I need to know - I don’t…I don’t want to hate him.” 

“He’s my brother, Rem.” You said simply, shrugging your shoulders helplessly. “I hate what he’s done, I hate the choice he made, I hate the outcome of that choice, I hate what he did to you, I hate what that’s done to me, but… but I don’t hate him. I can't hate him.” 

The two of you sat in silence for a while; the only sounds coming from the odd book being magically sent back to its shelf and the odd voices from students downstairs when a study group got a touch too boisterous. 

“Do you hate me?” Remus whispered then; your eyes flit up to meet his which were already steady on you. 

“No, Remus.” You whispered back.

He nodded as his gaze fell. “Just what I did?” 

Your lip quirked in the faintest ghost of a smirk. “Yes I…I sort of hated that, I suppose.” 

“I don’t want to hate him.” He repeated.

“I know.” 

“Do you-” Remus paused, turning away and screwing his eyes shut as you realised he was crying. “Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive me?”

“Remus…”

“I was scared, and hurt, and angry, and-” he hiccuped, reaching across the table as he nearly begged for your hand. You gave it willingly. “-and I hated him but I mostly hated myself.”

“I know, Rem.”

“Please? Do you…do you think you’d be able to forgive me? For leaving, for running, for abandoning you? You’ve never once given up on the people important to you and one bad thing happens to me and…and I just throw you away, I-” He looked at you as if he was only realising all of this now; hurt, frustration, anger, and betrayal all on your behalf flickered behind his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Remus.” You insisted, but he quickly shook his head at you. 

“It’s not; it’s not okay, I- … I’m not as gracious as you, clearly, but I just…I just feel like if you’re strong enough to forgive me then there’s…there’s hope for me, too. That maybe I can be strong enough to forgive Sirius.” 

“You’re forgiven, Remus.” 

His eyes fell shut as more tears fell, but you were sure it was more from relief than it was from pain. 

Both boys - Remus and Sirius - were so good at torturing themselves over choices they’ve made that you were certain no one else would ever have to as long as they both should live. 

And for different reasons, you loved them both beyond measure. 

“I don’t deserve forgiveness.” Remus whispered.

“Of course you do.” You countered, squeezing his hand in yours and watching as some of the tension in his shoulders dissipated. 

“Does Sirius?” He asked quietly, keeping his eyes pointed at where your joined hands sat on the table between you. 

You’re not sure when or how you became the leading expert on conflict resolution and forgiveness; perhaps it was in refereeing Sirius and Regulus’ petty squabbles growing up, perhaps it was in shielding Regulus from your parents fury, perhaps it was in trying to tame Sirius enough to keep him out of trouble, perhaps it was in being the youngest cousin along with Regulus and watching the siblings before you find their own ways to define what was right and good, perhaps…perhaps it came from the many examples of conflict and spite that you had witnessed growing up.

“I don’t know, Rem.” You answered honestly. “I think…I think the only one who can really know that is you.”

If he was displeased by your answer, he didn’t show it.

“But,” you continued cautiously, “I don’t think you have to forgive him for what he’s done. You just have to decide whether you’re going to hate him for it or love him in spite of it.” 

His lips pursed, pulling at scars both new and old in ways you’re not sure you’d ever grow tired of watching, as he nodded. “I don’t want to hate him.”

“I know, Rem.” 

“I don’t want James or Peter to hate him either…I don’t know why they were willing to watch him wither away like that.”

You couldn’t hide your smile at that; the first genuine smile since That Night. “They don’t, and they weren’t.” You countered, only moving to explain when he looked at you in bemusement. “They were the ones who told me how bad he was getting…they wanted to make sure someone was looking after him without giving into his pity party.” 

“Always taking care of everyone else, hm?” Remus murmured at you, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a delicate kiss to your knuckles. 

You simply hummed noncommittally. 

“Can I return the favour?”

“You can certainly try, but I’m quite high maintenance.” You teased gently. 

“That’s alright.” He agreed quickly. “You’re more than worth the effort.” 

You breathed out a quiet laugh through your nose. “Whatever you say, Lupin.”

[marasmadness]

Only Need You For The Oxytocin- Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

CW: season 17 section chief Emily💋, stripper!reader, erm not everything Emily does is very legal but let us all close our eyes for the time being, interrogation, enemies to less than enemies. everybody is very flirty in government buildings where they should not be! handcuffs, smut, rough sex, power dynamics (dom!emily), bondage, thigh riding, light degradation, oral sex (em receiving), choking, semi public sex

Rossi tapped his fingers against the windowsill of an interrogation room, turning to face Emily beside him. “Some of the most psychopathic men have sat in the room and started to squirm after thirty minutes. She’s been sitting in there for two hours, unphased.

“She’s not a man,” Emily mumbled, watching the woman on the other side of the glass with squinted eyes. ”I’m going to talk to her.” Emily perked up, finally growing impatient. Grabbing her jacket off the chair behind her, she slipped it on, knowing that Rossi had already turned down the thermostat in there.

"Prentiss, wait, we already drew up a profile. We won’t get anything out of her. She’ll just try to play with you.”

“Let her,’ she replied, leaving Rossi with a half-open mouth as she dipped inside the interrogation room, shutting the door behind her.

“Oh, you’re a new one.” You smiled at the older woman who had finally walked into the room, alluding to the three other agents who had entered hours ago and quickly left. “Shame, Agent Jareau and I were having a grand old time. You could be fun too,” you commented, eyeing her up and down as she introduced herself.

Emily cleared her throat, choosing to ignore your comments. “I’m SSA Emily Prentiss with the BAU. Do you know why you’re here today?”

You tilted your head, feigning confusion. “Because your team wanted to have a little chit chat?”

“Bullshit, you’re too smart for this. You know why you’re here.” Ignoring the chair across from you, she opted to sit against the edge of the table. I’ve already talked to just about everyone else in your club and every other one in the city, for that matter, and they all came to one conclusion. If I needed information, you would have it. She explained calmly yet sternly as she swept her arm toward the door.

You sighed as you rested your tilted head on your palms. “You speak like this is an expectation from me, yet your men dragged me in from the parking lot on the way out of my shift and didn’t tell me anything until I was sitting in your interrogation room, like I’m the one running around committing crimes,” you said pointedly. “And don’t think I didn’t realize your old friend out there was lowering the thermostat, thinking it would get me to tell you whatever you wanted; I’m barely wearing any fucking clothes; of course I’d notice when it drops a few degrees.”

A sense of unease flashed across Emily’s face as she felt slightly guilty. She had come in headstrong, and you were right, without knowing how you ended up here in the first place. She was still standing in a room across from you, who was already on edge, so instead of rewinding, she doubled down. “So now what? You’re not going to give us the information we need to stop a serial killer because you’re offended,” she scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest.

You just stared, watching the woman. She wore a gold watch, its face sitting on her inner wrist, which clinked against her belt buckle lightly every time she dropped her hands to her side. Underneath a long red coat that you desperately wished to be under right now, her outfit was sleek and simple: black pants, thin gold jewelry, and a black blouse with newly undone buttons. Your eyes froze on her shirt, your lips pressing into a smile."Really? Two hours of you and your team of profilers brainstorming, and the best you could come up with was that I would spit out all my information if you sent a woman twice my age in to what exactly, seduce me?” Emily looked caught off guard, and you tipped your head toward her chest. “You’re wearing three fewer buttons than when I watched you walk by this room earlier when Luke left, and a fresh coat of lipgloss.”

Emily held up her hand, leaning in closer over the table. "Okay, I get it—not the correct strategy.”

“No, you had my weaknesses spot on; just use them in a bar or a date, not an interrogation room. I’m not that gullible.” You smirked, enjoying watching Emily’s panic level rise, and then her eyes narrowed as a giggle escaped you.

Emily finally took the seat across from you, resting her forehead in her palm. “You’re giving me a headache.”

She heard you shuffle, reaching underneath the table, and eventually looked up when you tossed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter in front of her. She suddenly snapped up in attention. Where did you get those?”

You shrugged, picking one up. “I had them on me.”

“They didn’t search you when you came in?”

You shook your head, going to light one until Emily snatched in from between your fingers. “Stand up,” she directed, dragging two fingers upward through the air as she made her way around the table. You heard her mumble something under her breath, unable to distinguish any of it other than something about doing everything herself around here.

Her hands slid delicately down your sides and along the side seams of your clothes. She hesitated at the sensation of her hands brushing against your bare waist. Clearing her throat, she removed her hands. “Moving on, I need the list of Claire Demont’s regulars; I know she handed the list down to you.”

“I don't feel entirely obligated to help you. Claire has done a lot for me. Men have done a lot of shitty stuff to her. I’m not saying murder is ever the answer, but I don’t doubt that there's a reason for her rage. Can I go home now? Last time I checked, I wasn’t guilty of anything.” You stretched back over the metal frame of the chair, waking up your stiff muscles.

“No yet, but we do have a 24-hour hold because my team is under the very strong impression that you have information regarding the case.” Emily began to trail off upon seeing your disinterested demeanor and knew she wouldn’t be getting through to you. “Look, I can’t get you out of here; the best I can offer you is that we talk in my office instead, but I better be leaving with the list of names, no exceptions, got it?”

“Fine,” you got up slowly, demonstrating restraint to hide your eagerness. Before you could breathe deeply about your new slight ounce of freedom, the agent’s hands were enclosed around both your wrists, swiftly moving them behind your back. A short gasp of shock left your lips as you recognized the cold metal rings that clicked around your wrist. “I thought you said I was under arrest,” you muttered, irritated.

Emily’s chin hovered just above your shoulder as she whispered slowly in your ear, “You’re not; that was just for my entertainment.” A soft chuckle escaped her as she pulled away. Looping her fingers around the chain connecting your wrists, she tugged lightly, directing you toward the door.

Emily stepped outside much more composedly than you when you came face-to-face with three security guards outside the room. Emily knew they would be the only ones left in the building; no other agents remained, and they did not alarm her.

You heard a soft noise from over your shoulder, something you couldn’t make out but clearly Emily had. Turning your head, you found a man’s eyes roaming down your skin, almost greedily. Within seconds, Emily had dropped her coat off her shoulders and draped it over your shoulders. Pulling it closed around you, it hung down almost your entire body. Without a comment, her hand naturally fell down by her badge, and she gave a soft nod as she passed by the remaining guards, giving them no reason to question her authority.

Your heart rate sped up the farther you made it down the hallway; its loud beating suddenly became very evident beneath your chest. Peeking a glance over at Emily, she seemed collected and undeterred as she led the way to her office.

Stepping into her office, you immediately opened your mouth to speak. Before you could get a word out, Emily’s hand was over your mouth as you were pressed up against the wall beside her door as she locked it and pulled down the blinds. She eventually dropped her hand, narrowing the space between you slightly with the tilt of her head. “You’re not very good at this, are you?” She smirked before reaching over your waist to undo the cuffs, then looped them back around her belt. “Sit down,” She tossed her hand out across the office as her eyes scanned the rows of shelves lining the back of the room. You took a seat on the edge of her desk, right across from her chair. She pivoted around on her heel, setting a pen and piece of paper next to you. “Names,” she said, tapping the blank sheet with her nail.

You sighed under your breath but picked up the pen anyway, twirling it in between your fingers. Emily slid herself between her chair and your legs, dangling off her desk, before sitting back. ”Just so you know, I never knew all of Claire’s clients. When she left, she only gave me a handful of regulars' names to pass on to me.”

“That’s fine. The more she interacted with them, or the bigger impression she made on them, the more likely these men were to be targets. Do you know if she slept with any of them?”

“No, she never slept with clients, and despite contrary belief, neither did I,” you clarified, narrowing your eyes into a warning glare.

“I never said that,” Emily corrected, her voice remaining low and even throughout every interaction. “Sometimes it's just helpful to know because a man’s sex life can often tell you a lot about him.”

“If that's the information you need, you don’t need a profiler to find that out. You just need a little attention to things other than the physical act of sex.” You flipped the piece of paper in your lap around so the names were facing Emily as your pen rolled down the list. “These three are married and always want to give up control. They crave attention from the dancers but don’t do anything to draw it to themselves. They don’t demand anything; they want you to come to them. And the next handful of names have been single almost their entire lives. Most of them are possessive, and they want to spend the most time with you. They’ll tell you exactly what they want from you. Those men are typically the ones who will pay for a lap dance or two.”

Emily looked up at you, curious and slightly impressed. “You can tell me all that from a few minutes of interaction?” She asked skeptically. Your eyes skipped to the slight movements of her body, her thighs tensing against the tight fabric of her pants, and her ringer fingers closing against her palms as they rested at her side.

“Almost always, it's quite straightforward to discern if a partner is going to be possessive, controlling, desperate, or possessive.” You selected your words carefully, letting them hang in the silence between the two of you almost tauntingly.

Clearing her throat, Emily shook her head softly, causing a strand of silver hair to fall from her shoulder. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

Without thinking, you slipped off her desk with languid movements, finding yourself hovering over her with knees on each side of her body. You leaned away from her, back arching, so you were suspended over the air in front of her. Within seconds, Emily’s hands grasped at your hips, pulling you farther into the chair. It wasn’t an act of politeness to keep you from falling; it was lust-filled, her bruising grip not lessening or pulling away like two strangers should. Lifting your fingers, you brushed the collar of her shirt out of the way, pressing two fingers to the warm skin beneath her collar bone. Smirking, you felt her skin pulsing against you rapidly—the telltale sound of her racing heart. Tucking her fallen hair behind her ear, you whispered softly and sweetly. “ Just proved it.”

You lifted yourself off of her, starting to climb back down, before her firm grip pulled you forcefully back onto her lap. Her hands slid up her back, fingers playing with the zipper that held your top together teasingly. “Ah, finish what you started, doll.” She positioned you how she wanted to, her thigh between your legs with your hands draped over her shoulders. Her nails trailed down your legs, leaving light red scratches as she tore through your thin fishnet stockings.

Her lips latched to the side of your neck, sucking bruises of red and bluish hues down to your collarbone. Her sudden tightening grip made you suck in a gasp midway through ridding her of her own shirt. “Ride.” With one hand on your waist and the other clinging to the curve of your ass, she started the rocking motion. She flexed her toned thigh, holding you roughly down on her thigh, so every slight movement initiated by her stimulated your clit through the thin fabric between you.

The fact that your breathing was already breaking into stuttered sharp inhales simply from riding her thigh had your face burning. In an attempt to hide the fact, you buried your face against her shoulder, turning away from her unwavering gaze.

She brought your rocking to a halt, stopping to rest a hand on the base of your neck until you had to pull back upright to breathe deeply enough for the stars in your vision to disappear. “Eyes on me,” she corrected without additional comment before continuing her motions.

Sensing you were close to falling apart for her, she tugged your panties to the side, pressing the pad of her thumb to your clit. “Fuck,’ you trembled against her strong frame. The older woman’s eyes suddenly darted over your shoulder, and she quickly brought her hand from between your legs up to your mouth, pushing two fingers coated in your arousal past your lips.Sensing a noise behind you, your eyes widened in fear, realizing she had given you her fingers to keep you quiet.

There was a knock on the door, and Emily didn’t appear to be as alarmed as she should be, in your opinion. “Get under my desk and stay quiet.” She husked directly in your ear, nudging you down onto your knees in front of her, and she called out. “Come in,”

Anderson entered, swiping his badge to unlock the door. “Hey, Agent Prentiss. I just noticed your light was still on and wanted to make sure everything was okay. It’s getting late.”

“I’m good, Anderson, thanks.” She smiled softly as she thanked him. Her eyes fell coolly to the papers you had scattered across her desk from sitting on it. “I’m just finishing up some case files. I’m a bit behind at the moment.” Emily shuffled forward in her chair in an attempt to hide you if Anderson stepped any closer.

Sensing that he seemed to want to linger for a moment, you reached towards Emily’s zipper, her belt already on the floor beside you from your flurry of undressing earlier. Her hands engulfed your wrists, but after a minute of protesting, she had to lift her hand back up to avoid looking like she was fighting something under the table. The opportunity for payback was being handed to you on a silver platter.

Her voice spiked up an octave as her legs clenched over your ears. Unperturbed, your tongue traced along her slit as she kept up with Anderson’s casual conversation about work and what she did when she wasn’t at the office. Her hands dropped lightly into her lap and beneath the view of her desk, but unbeknownst to the man rambling to her, she had her hands gripping at your hair, tugging harshly as your tongue swirled around her clit. She resisted the urge to look down just briefly to catch a glimpse of her arousal smeared across your mouth, hair mussed from her touch.

You picked up your pace as you heard Ansderson start moving back toward the door, which left Emily’s legs quivering as she climbed toward an orgasm with every lap and flick of your tongue. The second the door was locked behind the security guard, Emily’s hands found the back of your head, nudging your mouth into her cunt. “Fuck, you better let me come on your mouth after that little stunt, sweetheart.”

You grinned up at her from the floor, a mischievous look in your eyes as you delved back into her cunt, wrapping your lips around her clit as she moaned while orgasming on your tongue. She panted as she came back down from her high, slouching back into her chair and spreading her legs. She helped you up off the floor, fixing you up before yourself.

In the middle of it all, you picked up a pink sticky note and pen off her desk, scribbling something down. Emily’s eyes narrowed as you held out the sheet. “What is this? You were supposed to give me all the names already.”

“I did,” you said, rolling your eyes at her assumption. "This is the club address, and when I work, Stop by sometime; you do still owe me an orgasm,” you pointed out with a grin.”

“Mhm,” her eyes widened at your boldness as she held one knuckle to her lip, hiding her soft, sly grin. ”Well, I risked my job because you're a desperate little thing, so I think you owe me about three. I thought you didn’t sleep with clients.”

You shrugged and started heading for the door. “Well, there's a first time for everything, or maybe I’m just making an exception for you,’ you teased," she said, pivoting around to return her coat on her arm that you had forgotten about for a brief second.

She gave you a small head tilt. “Keep it; I’ll see you shortly anyways,’ she suggested, and you just dropped your head slightly, smiling on your way out.

"Have a good night, Agent Prentiss.”

[pinkyqil]

- Devil In Disguise

Featuring: barcelona femeni x mischievous !teen reader

Summary: you finally meet your teammates but things take an unexpected turn for the best

Masterlist

Notes: my most awaited fic hope you all enjoy this and it reaches your expectations more chapter's are to come every wendays and Monday and if you guys have any nicknames we can give to this little devil I'm open to suggestions or any requests for this series feel free to send them in thank you again for reading 🫶🏾

Today was the day you finally meet your teammates least to say everything went well or as mapi would end up calling you at the end of the day "niña del diablo".

You got the opportunity too meet them for team bounding which vicky invited you too as she was one of your closest friends before joining the team.

the location for tonight's occasion was at a bowling alley which you loved very much. the girls where very welcoming to you as it took a few rounds of conversation for everyone to feel comfortable with each other before the chaos unfolded.

It was meant to be a small prank vicky got you to do with her but things went downhill on your side.

"Come on it'll be fun". vicky told you

"Are you sure?". You asked her

"Sí now all you have to do is slowly trip mapi and I'll do the rest". She told you

"If you say so".

"Let's go now". She said grabbing your hand so you both could go join the other girls.

You found yourself close to mapi who had her girlfriend close to her as she was yapping about something. it happened so fast one moment you were casually talking to jana next thing you knew had tripped a very angry defender who landed straight into vicky's bowling concoction.

It gained everyone's attention who started laughing at the harmless pranks.

"You tripped me". mapi accused you

"No I didn't. you said your best trying to contain your laughter as vicky pulled you in for an high five.

"You can't lie mapi she got you smooth like butter. Patri said this time around approving of the trick you pulled on mapi who was still laying on the floor with sticky popcorn butter surrounding her.

"Your one lucky diabol".she told you

"But I didn't do anything".You told her with a wide grin on your face

"W-What why are your trying to deny it we all saw you trip me and Vicky's stunt".

"We didn't do anything I think your just very clumsy".

"You little mierd-".

"Mapi no". Getting interrupted by her girlfriend this time.

"See Ingrid sides with me". You stated as you started teasing her

"Oh you little diablo". She said before launching herself right at you grabbing your left foot taking you down with her.

"Mapi". you yelled out getting surrounded by the sound of laughter coming from your teammates.

"Hahaha I'm definitely posting this". Vicky said as she pointed out her phone that was on film the whole time.

"You wouldn't do that".

"Yes I would". she said laughing

"Then I guess you wouldn't mind joining us". You yelled out before pulling her out joining the pile that was formed.

The whole room busted put laughing once again due to you silly tactics.

"Peak comedy the nena already as it out for you three". patri said

"She's the devil alright". Mapi voice echoed the whole room as she got up.

"No soy solo un león atrevido". You said

"Bravo she speaks spainsh everyone".

"claro que te hago imbecil ". You spat back

"qué". This time around it was your captain alexia who had been observing the whole thing without saying a word until now as she dragged you by your ears.

"ah ah I didn't meant it". whining as you were currently getting scolded by your captain on your first outing.

"This all gold el diablo ya se encontró en problemas". mapi said bursting into laughter

"Keep talking and your next maría". alexia told her

"Lo siento". You both said at the same time apologizing to your captain.

"Good I don't want to hear any insult to adults even though that one there is quite childish". She told you.

"And you too maría I don't know why your whining when we all saw you fall on your own feet". alexia spoke up using the same joke on her friend that had everyone laughing again.

"Yeah mapi". You said

"No me caí fue ese diablo". She said looking annoyed at you.

The rest of the night felt magical to you it felt like all the girls welcomed you with open hands feeling like a true family barcelona was. You spent the rest of the night getting to know each one of the girls before heading home but you had one more trick in mind before your taxi came.

You were heading outside with everyone after taking some photos and that where you decided to trip mapi on your way out. but this time you got her off guard which she wasn't expecting thinking you were done with your devilish acts. for tonight but she was absolutely wrong.

"niña del diablo". she yelled out as she fell on the ground for the second time. hearing your teammates laughter once more

"Adios buenas noches a todos". You yelled out running at full speed getting inside your taxi before mapi could catch up.

[lazycats-stuff]

How about one where Bruce and M!Reader have been dating for a while. Reader lives in the manor and everyone in the family has opened up to reader accept Damien. One night when reader is babysitting Damien while everyone else is out reader is able to finally get through to Damien. He really opens up to reader and even ends up falling asleep in readers lap much to the shock of everyone. Reader becomes Damien’s favorite person and he is always practically clinging to readers side. If not it’s totally fine!

Oh yes! Bruce would wonder for ages. Also, no specific version of Bruce in mind, imagine any version you want. This gif popped up first.

Summary: (Y/N) does something that no one was able to do. Damian opened up.

Warnings: fluff, mentions of psychological warfare, (Y/N) is patient man, Damian is not trusting, did I mention fluff?,

(Y/N) and Bruce were match made in heaven according to Bruce's three boys plus Alfred. Bruce and (Y/N) have been dating for 3 years and (Y/N) has moved in just a few months ago to live with Bruce. The 3 boys were happy. One wasn't. But we will get to that later.

Every member of this house, expect for one, loved (Y/N). At first they thought that he was a gold digger and was just looking for money and fame. Couldn't be further from the truth. Bruce even trusted (Y/N) to tell him that he's Batman.

He was often supportive of them, didn't try to stop them, or talk them out of it or snitched. In fact, before (Y/N) moved into the manor, he would leave little snacks for the boys and Bruce to take during patrol. He slept during that period because he has a job and he can't work while sleepy.

Everyone loved it. Besides Damian, but we will get to him later. Of course, they all went to the apartment to get those snacks. It was a nice change and those snacks were lit. They gave them an energy boost and they were all happy to have the boost that runs out when they get home.

And there was one important thing that (Y/N) has that Bruce is not really known for it. Emotional availability. Boys came by to his apartment when they needed to talk to him about anything and they would be sure that (Y/N) wouldn't tell anything to Bruce unless it was serious.

Now, when Bruce proposed to (Y/N), everyone was happy. Besides Damian, but that was then. The 3 out of the 4 four boys were happy that they had a stable person alongside Alfred and they would be happy to have a second parental figure, considering that Bruce was slightly overwhelmed and needed support he needed.

Of course, the media caught wind of this and was all over (Y/N) for it. It was difficult to live a normal life, but since he was an author, he spent his time at home and just decided to keep going out to a minimum. Bruce made sure he was taken care of, knowing it wasn't easy.

(Y/N) moved in when his address got leaked and the press started hounding him even more. Bruce already wanted (Y/N) to move in, even before he proposed to him. So, one weekend, (Y/N) packed his stuff and Bruce helped him move to the manor, making some space in his room, just for (Y/N).

Everyone was happy and helped (Y/N) in any way to help him settle in. Besides Damian. Damian wasn't happy by any means and he didn't like any of this. His mother should have been the one in (Y/N)'s spot.

So what does Damian do in that situation?

Psychological warfare it is. (Y/N) found his stuff going missing from time to time. Damian would be close to him one day, then distant and cold the other and there was no way to see if he was actually any progress. Then, it got a little bit more extreme.

Damian tried to mess with him even more, more directly. Bruce and the others tried to persuade Damian and Bruce knew that punishment would only fuel the problem. (Y/N) knew that he had to prove himself to Damian that he could stand in this family.

So, (Y/N) asked Bruce to train him. To show him the ropes. Bruce was surprised and he could see why, he was hesitant, but did it anyway. Now, (Y/N) knew how to fight, knew how to see signs of something psychological happening, such as manipulation and warfare.

(Y/N) was more than ready to take on Damian and crack that tough exterior. Bruce was more than supportive, but worried that (Y/N) doesn't get hurt by Damian. (Y/N) has said that it doesn't matter. He wants Damian to accept him no matter how long it took.

Everything came to a head one evening when everyone needed to go out somewhere and (Y/N) was stuck babysitting Damian. He didn't mind it actually and it was going to be a great time to bond. Of course, if Damian wants to bond. He would never force Damian to bond. It would counter productive.

Right now, he would fancy a movie night or something like that. He made himself comfortable on the couch, a cup of green tea on the coffee table and he got himself a blanket. He put some snacks on the table too and turned on the TV to check what's on.

He could easily go to Netflix and check what to watch. This is going to be a rather nice night.

" You know father doesn't love you? " Damian said from behind the couch, near the kitchen. (Y/N) turned his head to look at him and then took his hot green tea.

" I know he does, otherwise I wouldn't be engaged to him. "

Damian scoffed and moved closer to the couch, but still far enough.

" You can scoff all you want, but I know you hate me because me because you want your mom to be with Bruce so that you can be a family. " (Y/N) said and Damian was quiet. (Y/N) knew he has hit a nail on the head with that statement.

" Also, I know you think I will try to replace your mom, but I won't be trying to. "

Damian scoffed once more and (Y/N) laugh. " Damian, you were raised by assassins and you are the son of Batman. You know when people are bullshitting you. " (Y/N) said and took a sip of his tea.

Damian knew that as well. He could see if someone was lying directly to his face. Damian moved quietly and sat down next to (Y/N), still some distance between the two. (Y/N) didn't say anything as he watched Damian, waiting for him to start. He waited for Damian to start talking.

" I... Do you know anything about my upbringing? " Damian asked (Y/N), crossing his arms, still defensive.

" I just know it was rough. Some said hell. I don't know any specifics. " (Y/N) explained and sipped his tea.

" Well... It could be described as hell... I was taught to kill anyone in 50 different way using a single object. I was never really shown love, only seen an heir to the league and the son of Batman. " Damian started and (Y/N) put his tea down, giving him his full attention.

Damian stayed silent before he started talking once more. " I was trained to be an assassin and love was... Not a thing there. When I came here, I was still cold, despite everyone trying to be nice to me. I guess deep down, I still missed my mother. When you entered the picture, I was pissed. I thought you wanted to replace my mom. " Damian paused for a moment.

(Y/N) watched him in silence. He allowed him to compose himself.

" And you were nice, so I got suspicious. Even when father recently proposed to you, I was mad and pissed." Damian said, frowning and shaking his head. " I couldn't understand why you would be so loving towards us. But I see the way father looks at you and how much he loves you and how much he has opened up emotionally. The way everyone has... " Damian stopped and moved closer to (Y/N) who lifted a blanket to let Damian get closer.

Damian did just that and he hugged (Y/N). (Y/N) wanted to scream from happiness, but he had to remain calm. " And when you didn't leave when I messed with you, there was something more than intrigued me about you. "

(Y/N) put his hand on Damian's shoulder and Damian relaxed. " I'm guessing I didn't get any love when I was younger so I guess I was just repellent to love. "

(Y/N) smiled and hugged Damian. " Don't blame yourself. I don't blame you at all. If you feel bad, we can start over completely. A new slate. Clean slate. " (Y/N) suggested and Damian nodded and (Y/N) saw a small smile on Damian's face.

" Good. " (Y/N) said, smiling widely and watched as Damian put his head on his lap, before covering himself with the blanket. I smile and pat his head.

" I know it's not easy to trust me, but I'm here for the long run. " (Y/N) said and Damian let out a hum.

" Are you tired? " (Y/N) asked and Damian nodded, closing his eyes. (Y/N) didn't say anything and caressed Damian's hair. (Y/N) smiled widely, happy that Damian liked him.

Bruce and the others came back home, worried beyond belief. Is (Y/N) hurt? Is he even alive? Bruce and the others checked the living room, one worried for his fiancé, the others worried for their dad number two.

Well, they didn't expect to see Damian sleeping in (Y/N)'s lap, looking calm and peaceful. (Y/N) shushed them with bringing his finger to his lips. He smiled back at Damian who shuffled a little bit, looking like he was going to wake up, but he remained asleep.

Bruce's jaw dropped a little.

" Hi. " (Y/N) whispers and Bruce smiled, melting at the sight of Damian laying on (Y/N)'s lap. The other 3 boys are still in shock.

" How? " Bruce whispered back as he moved closer to the duo.

" He opened up on his own. " (Y/N) whispers and Bruce cards his hand through Damian's short hair.

" Really? " Bruce whispered and kissed (Y/N)'s forehead.

" Yes. I think Damian and I will bond more. " (Y/N) whispered back, smiling. He kisses Bruce softly and looks back at Damian.

" Lets get him to bed and then get you to sleep. I'm afraid that I have to go on patrol tonight. " Bruce explains and take Damian into his arms. (Y/N) stands up and says hi to his other sons. He gave each a hug, before going to his room to sleep. He made sure that Damian is tucked in the bed and Bruce made sure he tucked Damian in correctly.

After that night, Damian was always near (Y/N), following him around, making sure he was safe at all time. Can you blame Damian? When ever they are out and doing something, press hounds them and Damian has to make sure that his dad is okay. Like, what did you expect from him?

Bruce didn't say anything as he saw how Damian spent a lot of time with (Y/N). It was nice to see and Bruce know how Damian would protect him from anything that might hurt him.

Now, what shocked Bruce was the first time Damian called (Y/N) dad. It was not something he expected and he had to sit down on the couch for a moment.

The rest of the family lost their collective minds. (Y/N) cried and hugged Damian tightly. He has never been happier and he was officially going to adopt all four of them. He talked to Bruce about adopting those four, but only when they all accepted them.

Now he was going to do just that, without a doubt. The others also called him dad, but Damian calling him that? (Y/N) was officially happy and could move to adopt all four boys. He would do that once he marries Bruce and since Bruce has connections, he could speed the thing up.

Now, does any of this mean that Damian is (Y/N)'s favorite son? Nope. He loved all of them equally. Maybe a little bit more than Bruce. And now, even when (Y/N) and his sons are now cuddling on the couch, watching a movie, (Y/N) has never felt so calm and relaxed.

This was something that he wishes never stops. Bruce may have or may have not snapped a few pictures.

[mbsneur]

I want to show you something

Alessia Russo x Williamson!reader

Summary: Your big sister wins the European Championships and you think you can celebrate normally

Warnings: Fluff,angst?,maybe bad writing

My Masterlist

please read this text before going to the story

(it's probably poorly written it's not my best and it has a weird ending and it‘s a really short one)

request is from @gpcwsl

please don't be so strict with me but rather write to me what I can do better or what you wished were different. also tell me if you find the story too long or too short.. Also write to me if you liked it. My requests are always open (and English is not my first language so don't be mad at me) and if you have any ideas for the future about who I should write please tell me… the topics I will choose by myself unless you have a request for one or two people I will Read everything.. in the next survey I will take a few ideas from the old survey and new ones…. now read and I hope you like it <33

The final whistle sounds and the whole Wembley Stadium screams out everyone cheers and hugs. Your big sister has made history with her girls, becoming European champions for the very first time and in their own country

You jump into your brother Jacob's arms. Tears of joy run down your cheeks. Your emotions are going crazy. You're so happy for your sister

Leah falls into Millie's arms full of tears. Ella jumps into Alessia's arms. Everyone is happy in their own way. You haven't seen her so happy in a long time

After the first great joy was over, the girls went to stand for the German team so that they could pick up their silver medals. Then it was their turn. Each of the girls picked up their own gold medal. Leah went last, she carried the trophy

The girls waited eagerly for Leah. They all counted down and with a big jerk the girls jumped up and lifted the trophy

After Leah celebrated with her girls on the field, everyone went to their families to bring them to the field

Leah ran straight into your arms and lifted you from the stands to hug you tighter

“I’m so proud of you Lee” you tell her in your tight embrace

Leah couldn't say anything, tears just flowed down her cheeks and she hugged you tighter

She let go of you to hug your brother. You saw Nikita come up to you and give you a big hug. The rest of the team came to hug you but you were only waiting for one person

You looked around and looked for her but didn't find her. You felt Leah pull your arm and pull you into the middle of the field and then you saw the familiar face that you were looking for the whole time

alessia. She literally jumped on you and took you tightly in her arms and cut off your breath

"I'm so incredibly happy to see you here y/n"

she screams

"and so am I" You said laughing, squeezing her tighter

“Come with me, I want to show you something,” she moves away from you to take your head in her hands

She took your hand and pulled you towards the changing room

She pulled you down the long hallway until you got to the lionesses' cabins. She pulled you into the toilets

"lessi where are you taking me" you say smiling and tramp after her

“Just let yourself be surprised,” she says, her cleats echoing across the floor

She opened the door to the toilets, pulled you in and closed the door behind you

As soon as the door is closed she presses her lips to yours. Your eyebrows furrowed. You feel slightly confused about the kiss. You don't know if it's just the flood of her emotions

You pulled back slightly and she looked at you with her bright blue eyes. Never in your life had you seen Alessia so close to you and her eyes so bright

"lessi what will it be" you say shocked

"You know I once told you when I was drunk that I've had feelings for you for a long time we never talked about it again and it broke me that I never spoke to you about it again"

You couldn't answer. You just pressed your lips against hers again and pulled her into a painful kiss. You try to get control of the kiss but Alessia pushes you against the wall and her hands move up and down on your hips

She moans softly into your mouth, which gives you the opportunity to stick your tongue between her lips. Your head hits the wall and Alessia starts kissing you harder than before

"y/n where are you we want to go to the after party soon"

you hear your big sister screaming in the changing rooms

“fuck lessi shit stop leah is here” you said in a panic

"Calm down, she won't come in here" Alessia says and starts to push your head up to get access to your neck

You tilt your head back and groan

Leah comes to the toilets and opens the door

“What the fuck is going on here oh my god” she says almost screaming and her eyes widen

Keira and Lucy follow her

Lucy steps into the bathroom next to the shocked Leah Lucy starts laughing loudly

"Oh oh oh Keira come here" she says laughing loudly

"How long has this shit been going on with you guys? Did you plan on telling me at some point?" Leah says, visibly upset

"It's not long- it's nothing i- le-"

you say frozen, embarrassed that she caught you already

"I really don't have to give myself that" Leah says angrily and turns around and leaves

You wanted to go after her and stop her but Lucy steps in front of you and stops you

“Give her some time she’ll cool off” she says with a laugh and turns her back to you

You look at Alessia who just shrugs her shoulders

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Face Your Fears

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: You get into a fight with your brothers, but your recklessness that follows creates problems for everyone.

“You were hunting before you were my age! I don’t get why—“

“It doesn’t matter if you get it or not! I said no!”

Sam rushed to the library when he heard his siblings’ voices raised in argument.

“What’s going on in here?” He asked, trying to keep a calm and neutral tone.

“She—“ Dean started, but you cut him off.

“Dean is being completely unfair!”

“Ok, ok, calm down,” Sam sighed.

“Calm down?! You two are off all the time, actually helping people, putting your lives on the line, and I’m—“

“Exactly! You don’t need to be putting yourself in danger like that!” Dean interrupted.

“It’s what you do! And I sit here and read books!”

“Don’t downplay what you do,” Sam said. “We need you here.”

“But I could do so much more out there with you!” You argued. “I’ve been training, I know I can help!”

“Yeah, or you’d screw it up and get killed, and I don’t need your blood on my hands!” Dean exploded.

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Dean—“ Sam tried to speak up, but you interrupted him.

“So that’s it, really? You think I’m some kind of screw up?” You scoffed, and continued before Dean could speak. “It’s not like you’re perfect! You’ve screwed up the world before, and no one’s stopped you from going out to screw it up again!”

“Y/N—“ again Sam’s attempt to calm the situation was met with resistance.

“Well fine then, if I’m too much of a screw up for you, then I’ll get out of your way!” You shoved past your brothers and beelined for your room, slamming the door behind you.

…

Your brothers didn’t try to go after you. They were probably angry. You knew you went too far with what you said to Dean, but he called you a screw up; were you just supposed to take that and not say anything back?

It didn’t matter either way. You didn’t want them to try to talk to you, because you had something to do.

You had a hunt to go on.

You’d been researching one before you went to ask Dean about joining the next one; since he’d said no, you would take this one whether he liked it or not. And you were going alone.

…

It wasn’t hard to sneak out—back when you lived in motels, it would have been almost impossible to leave without one of your brothers waking up, but with the bunker it was easy.

You didn’t take the Impala—that would be too far, even for this rebellious streak. Instead, you took a cab to the next town over; you had struck gold, finding a hunt so close. It was pretty simple, too; three victims with hearts ripped out, definitely a werewolf. You had more silver bullets than you’d need packed up with a couple of guns in a duffel at your feet.

Dean was wrong about you, you could do this. After all, how hard could one little werewolf be?

…

Dean was right, and you were suffering the consequences of being wrong.

You struggled to pull your phone from your pocket, your fingers fumbling as your phone slipped around in your blood-soaked hands. Your breathing was labored, and every breath brought stabs of pain to your slashed-up abdomen.

You hadn’t noticed the signs of the second werewolf, so determined were you on taking the first one down. You hadn’t even seen him until he’d been right on you, ripping into your stomach. You’d had your gun in your hand, and by some miracle you’d managed to fire off a round into the werewolf on top of you, but not before he’d injured you pretty bad.

You finally got the phone in your hand, and you didn’t hesitate to press Dean’s number. You held the phone just slightly away from your face, wary of irritation the cuts on your cheek.

The phone barely had time to ring before Dean’s voice flooded your senses.

“Where are you?” His voice came out in a growl.

“D-De…” you hadn’t realized you were crying until you had to push your voice out past your tears.

“Sweetheart?” Dean’s anger was gone in a second when he heard your pained voice. “What’s going on?”

“I’m-I’m sorry, De,” you sobbed. “You were right, I’m-I’m sorry.”

“Shh shh, hey,” Dean soothed. “It’s alright sweetheart, I forgive you. Just tell me where you are and I’ll come get you.”

“I-I turned on my phone’s location,” you said. “Ple-please hurry. It hurts…”

Dean tried to ask you more, but a bang from somewhere nearby had you flinching, and the phone slipped out of your soaked hands and shattered on the concrete floor. You realized it was only your own gun, slipping off the table you’d laid it on. But it was too late; your phone was broken, and you had no way to call Dean back.

You could only hope that the tracker would still work.

…

Dean broke both the law and probably some speed records getting to your location. Sam was in the passenger seat, a first aid kit in his lap as he held on for dear life.

“I should’ve known she’d do something stupid,” Dean grunted.

“Dean, you couldn’t have known,” Sam reasoned. “And blaming yourself isn’t going to help her.”

Dean didn’t speak, and the rest of the ride was tensely silent.

“Here,” Sam said as navigator. “Turn left here, and she should be close by.”

Dean swerved the Impala to the left and screeched to a halt in an empty parking lot near a warehouse. Sam was right at his heels as he burst into the warehouse.

“De?” Your pained voice echoed throughout the building, so that it took Dean a moment to find you. When he did, he swore his heart skipped three beats. You were sitting in a pool of your own blood, propped up against the wall. Dean rushed to you, kneeling next to you and almost slipping in your blood.

“Hey, hey,” his voice was a mixture of soothing and panic as he brushed your blood-stained hair away from your face. “Alright sweetheart, tell Doctor Dean where it hurts.”

It was a pathetic joke, but you laughed anyway; Dean’s jokes always made you laugh.

But your laugh sent you to a fit of coughing. Dean winced as he examined the long gashes on your stomach.

“Ok, you’re ok,” Dean leaned back in relief when he saw that it wasn’t too deep; you’d be ok. “But I’m gonna have to carry you to the car, ok? Brace yourself.”

You gritted your teeth and clenched your fists, but you still couldn’t hold back the cry of pain when Dean lifted you into his arms.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Dean cringed. “I’m sorry. You’re gonna be ok.”

Dean laid you on your back in the backseat of the Impala, before taking the first aid kit from Sam and retrieving a needle and thread.

“Can’t we just bandage it up?” You whimpered, already squirming away from the needle. Dean’s finger froze for a second before he shook his head, his features softening. Both brothers were very aware of your fear of needles, but sometimes it couldn’t be helped.

“Sorry sweetheart, it’s gotta be stitched. Just close your eyes, it’ll feel worse if you watch.”

You closed your eyes, trusting your brother completely. However, before he could make the first stitch, your eyes popped open and you grabbed into his wrist.

“Wait,” you said. “I-I…I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Dean sighed. “I’m sorry too. I said some things that…that I didn’t mean. You aren’t a screw up, ok?”

“What do you call this?” You gestured to your own banged up body.

“Inexperience,” Dean answered. “And you never should’ve been out here alone. Going solo on your first hunt is never a good idea.”

“I’m sorry about that, too,” you mumbled.

“It’s ok, kiddo. Maybe later we…we can talk about you tagging along on one of our hunts.”

“Really?” You grinned.

“Later,” Dean said sternly. “After you’re all better. Now let me get to this.”

As Dean lifted the needle, you closed your eyes again. You felt Sam’s large hand grab onto yours, and you squeezed his hand gratefully, holding on as Dean started to stitch you up.

“I didn’t really think you would screw up the hunts,” Dean said as he worked. “I just…I don’t want you out there. It’s dangerous, and I…I’m scared something will happen to you. But I guess I can’t keep you from it if it’s what you really want.”

“It is,” you said. “I want to do what you guys do. I want to help people, and I wanna be with you guys.”

“Ok then,” Dean said, tying off the stitches and patting your side to let you know he was done. You opened your eyes, and he smiled at you.

“I guess I’ll just have to face my fears.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

[eunoia-writes]

Knight In shining armour • Felix Catton x Reader

Request - MAKE A FIC WHERE FELIX IS COMFORTING READER AFTER SHE’S HOSPITALIZED CAUSE SHE DRANK THE LACED CHAMPAGNE BUT DIDNT DIE JUST GOT REALLY SICK PLEASE PLEASE!!!🫶🏻

Warnings - 18+ Smut, Oral (M&F receiving, PinV, Oliver being a creep, Drugging

When y/n awoke without Felix next to her it wasn’t out of the ordinary. Felix typically got up before her to go in hai morning

“Morning Darling.” Elspeth said as y/n approached at the table adorned In Felix’s jumper and her usual bed shorts

“Good morning.” She said with a smile while Duncan brought out her usual of scrambled eggs while she made her way to the breakfast bar grabbing her usual multiple spoons of fruit and few slices of toast.

“Felix and Oliver have headed out of the day so I thought you might like to accompany me and Venetia into town to get costumes for the party tomorrow.” Elspeth said taking a sip of her coffee her eyes not leaving y/n as she walked back to the table

“I’d love to.” Y/n said taking a sip of her orange juice “it’s been far too long since the three of us did anything without Felix.” She added while Venetia laughed

“It would be nice to see you without my brother attached to your hip for once.” Y/n blushed slightly, everyone adored how inseparable the couple were especially Elspeth, she loved seeing how smitten her son was, the way he doted on his girlfriend she just adorned how in love he was.

“Don’t listen to her you two are just darling together.” Elspeth said making y/n smile as she finished up her breakfast before rushing off to get ready for the day.

After hours of walking around the streets of London the three girls got back to saltburn. Y/n walked into Felix room to see him sat on the bed as she carried in multiple bags

“Oh Fi I got us the best costumes for tomorrow you’re going to love it honestly.” She began before she realised something was right

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Y/n put the bags down walking over to him as he looked up at her with tears in his eyes “oh my pretty boy, whatever’s the matter.” Felix took a deep breath as he pulled y/n into his lap

“Ollie lied… about everything.” Felix whispered as her hands came to his face wiping his tears away “I mean everything baby, the stuff with his parents… his dad is alive.” The last four words felt like a bullet In her chest.

“Oh.” Was all she said and Felix knew how hurt she was just from that. Y/n had bonded with Ollie over the loss after she lost her dad a few months prior. She didn’t want to believe that someone could be so cruel.

“I’m so sorry pretty girl.” Felix said as tears rolled down her cheeks

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong.” She asked her bottom lip quivering it was taking everything in her not to breakdown sobbing

“I brought him into our lives… I should have known.” Y/n shook her head before kissing him softly

“It’s not your fault.. how were you to know” She mumbled into the kiss before pulling away. She wiped the few stray tears that feel onto his cheeks away before standing back up and clearing her throat.

“Now back to those costumes.”

—

“God baby, you look so fucking hot.” Felix said as y/n came out of the bathroom in her costume. The same gold wings in his back adorned her. The bra, skirt and matching wings combo leaving very little to the imagination. the pair dressed as a Greek god and Goddess which Felix would argue she is regardless of the costume.

“You’re the sweetest.” Y/n leaned up to kiss Felix who’s hands instantly began to roam her body “Fi as much as I would love to stay in your room all night you mother will kiss us if we don’t show after all the effort she’s put into this.”

“Don’t really feel like celebrating.” Felix said his hands on her waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck

“I know baby, I’ll make you a deal well go down there and show our faces for a while, have a few drinks and then I’ll finally let you show me round that maze yeah?” She suggested with an innocent smile on her face but the suggestion was far from innocent

“Get moving then pretty girl.” He said wasting no more time making sure to slap her arse as they walked out of his bedroom and down to where the party had already began

“Wow don’t you look hot.” Venetia said as y/n and Felix walked over to her hand in hand the music was already thumping as Elspeth walked over handing the pair a glass of champagne each making sure to tell them how cute there matching costumes are.

“Our dear cousin is out back with something to make this party a little more fun for us.” Venetia said watching the way Felix eyes lit up as he pressed a kiss to his girlfriend’s temple before hurrying off.

The pair had managed to avoid Ollie so far that evening while drinking their way through bottle after bottle of whatever they could get their hands on. Felix had hardly taken his hands off her the whole evening when she suggest a late night stroll, although he knew what she was really suggesting.

The couple made their way outside into the cool summers air, the alcohol in their veins doing more than enough to keep them warm.

“You know the way right baby?” Y/n asked as they neared the entrance of the entirely pitch black maze while Felix had stopped to plant sloppy kisses all over her neck mumbling for her not to worry as she ran her hands through his hair.

Felix took the lead their laughter echoing against the labyrinthine walls, stumbled forward, hand in hand. The scent of blooming flowers lingered in the air as they weaved through the twists and turns, their steps becoming a delightful dance of tipsy synchronicity. Every few steps, he paused, their laughter bubbling over into kisses that tasted of desperation mixed with booze.

“My feet hurt.” Y/n mumbled into the kiss as she kicked off her shoes making her even smaller than her boyfriend who always towered over her.

“Not much longer pretty.” Felix said interlocking there hands once again as they continued into the darkness. The maze, a playground for their intoxicated affection, led them to its heart, where, surrounded by the fragrant maze walls, they shared a final, lingering kiss.

“Wow s’lot bigger than I imagined.” Y/n joked looking up at the statue in the center that towered over the pair of them

“The only thing you should be sayings big is me.” He joked as she rolled her eyes in the moonlight cocking her head to the side as she pulled him closer by the buckle of his belt

“Pretty heard to say that when I’ve got my mouth full.” She teased as she dropped to her knees staring up at him while she fumbled with his belt

“God pretty girl you’re killing me.” And just as he was about to have his way with her a loud snap came from a few yard away

“What was that.” She stopped in place much to his dismay

“S’nothibg baby.” Felix’s hands made there way into her hair as she looked up at him pouting slightly but ultimately brushing it off as she continued undoing his belt and pulling his jeans and underwear down just enough to pull him out of his underwear

Y/n wrapped both of her hands around the bottle of his length her eyes never leaving his as she kitten licked the tip. Felix let out a shaky breath making him tremble in his spot gripping her hair tighter. Her tongue swirled around his tip before she took him into her mouth her head bobbing up and done and she took more for him each time.

“Fuck just like that.” Felix groaned as her throat tightened around him as she gagged slightly briefly coming up for air before wrapping her mouth around him again she moaned around him as he let our a rather loud moan

“Such a good girl.” He groaned which only encouraged her she kept up her exact pace feeling him tense in her throat.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum.” He said mere seconds before he finished in her mouth with a groan watching as she swallowed him and licked up any mess. Flashing an innocent smile just to top it off.

“God what are you doing to me y/n.” Felix waisted no time tucking himself back into his boxers as he scooped her up placing her on the base of the statue wasting no time attacking there lips as he stood between her thighs his lips trailed down to her neck she let out a soft wine as he found her sweet spot

“Up.” He mumbled into her neck telling her lift her ass up so he could pull her underwear down shoving them into his back pocket while he continued sucking marks on her neck.

He left a trail of open mouthed kisses down her chest to right were she needed him the most before pressing a kissed against her clothed heat “please.” she moaned he smirked looking up at her once more as if he was asking permission

“Fi.” She wined once more before he blew hot air over her swollen clit before diving in. his tongue traced her folds before he lapped at her clit. Y/n’s back arched, electricity bolting through her nerves. Her hands flew to tug at his hair as he lapped at her clit feverishly so Desperate to taste her. He caught her off guard slipping a digit into her, groaned into her when your legs locked around his head, securing him in place. Not that he needed it. He’d stay here forever if she’d let him.

“Please Fi .” She moaned his fingers pumped in and out of her while his tongue made work on her clit. her thighs tremble and eyes roll back into her head. One hand grip the Stone she was sat on her knuckles white, while the other tugged at his locks. The pressure in her abdomen built but so does something else, something deeper at the same time. Felix took note pulling away

“you taste just Devine pretty thing, but not so fast I’m not finished with you yet.” He said as she whimpered at the loss of contact.

She watched as he pulled himself out of his boxers leaning down it kiss her again before he lined himself up with her entrance before he sank into her both of them gasping at the feeling. 

“fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned. She was appreciative of his slow thrusts her constant wines were evident of that.

Y/n’s legs wrapping around his waist pulling him closer as his hips rocked back and forth

“Faster.” She groaned in his ear as she clenched around him. His free hand moving to wrap around her throat squeezing slightly as his hips moved faster.

Y/n opened her eyes for a few seconds spotting someone in the distance. She let out a gasp pushing Felix off her as she attempted to cover herself

“Ollie what the fuck!” She said as she realised who had been watching them. Felix fumbled to cover himself up before protectively standing in front of y/n.

“What the fuck is wrong with you Ollie.” He said while y/n grabbed into his arm

“We need to talk.” Ollie slurred as he made his was over to the couple. Y/n climbed down off the statue staying hid behind her boyfriend

“You’re a fucking liar Ollie.” Felix said as Ollie got closer and closer

“How could you Ollie, after I confided in you.” Y/n said snatching the bottle of champagne out of his hand chugging most of what was left

“I know I’m so sorry y/n… I really am.” He said but she just shook her head and walked away from the pair cradling the bottle as she wobbled while she listened to Felix and Ollie argue

“You need to leave Ollie.” Felix said his eyes flickering to y/n was was now slightly hunched over

“You’re still my friend? We’ll all still be friends right?” Felix didn’t give him an answer before he rushed over to y/n which Ollie took as his que to leave

“Felix.” She said as she started to go dizzy. Y/n reached out for him while he grabbed onto her

“I don’t feel good.” She whispered before her legs gave way. Alarmed, Felix scooped her up in his arms, concern etching his face.

“Stay with me, baby.” Y/n mumbled something drowsy, her eyes struggling to stay open. Felix, with a sense of urgency, began navigating the maze's twists and turns running as fast as he could carry her

“No baby keep your eyes open.” He said as he held her head up with one hand. As he neared the house he spotted Elspeth seeing a group of her friends off by there cars

“Mum!” He yelled out catching her attention, noticing the distress, she rushed over, her face turning from joyous to concerned.

“I don’t know what happened, no baby keep your eyes open for me.” Felix said once again noticing the way she was struggling to stay conscious “y/n, look at me.” He said as Elspeth rushed them towards the car calling out of Duncan.

Felix sat y/n in the back seat sliding in next to her while his mother told him she’d get the rest of the family before telling Duncan to drive to the hospital as fast as he possibly could while she climbed into the passenger seat.”

“M’tired.” Y/n mumbled incoherently as she fell limp into Felix said

“I know baby, I know but you’ve gotta Stay awake for me.” Felix’s heart was in his throat he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Felix, what happen? Did she take something?” Elspeth asked Felix had never shook his head so quickly

“No mum, she would never. she was fine a few minutes ago.” He said the panic in his voice evident he head tears in his eyes as y/n kept mumbling nonsense to him.

“Love you Fi” He heard her say before she fell unconscious

“Drive fucking faster!” He yelled hitting the back of the seat as he tried to shake her awake but it wasn’t working

“Calm down Felix we’re almost there.” Elspeth said in reality she was also just as panicked. She loved y/n like her own she couldn’t bare the thought of something happening to her.

“I can’t fucking calm down!” He yelled and as soon as they turned into the hospital Felix wasted no time rushing her inside begging for help. Multiple doctors came rushing over taking him from her arms discussing things amongst themselves.

Felix stood frozen in the middle of the room, the weight of fear anchoring him to the spot. The harsh light overhead accentuated the pallor of his face as doctors fired questions about what happened with his collapsed girlfriend. His voice caught in his throat, and his limbs felt like lead, rendering him incapable of articulating the events that led to this moment. The fear consumed him, the uncertainty of y/n’s well-being tightening its grip. Just when the anxiety threatened to suffocate him, the hospital door opens and Elspeth entered, a comforting presence amidst the clinical sterility. Her eyes met Felix's, conveying a silent reassurance that he wasn't alone in this ordeal. In that shared gaze, a glimmer of strength returned to Felix, grounding him in the support of his mother amid the overwhelming uncertainties of the hospital room.

Elspeth took over the questioning answering every question she possibly could as a nurse took Felix into the waiting room where he sank into one of the chairs terrified for y/n’s life. A few minutes later Venetia, his dad and Farleigh came rushing into the room. No one said a word.

Venetia took a seat next to her brother taking his hand in hers trying to offer him some sort of comfort in the horrific moment. The reality of the situation had completely sobered him up the adrenaline of the alcohol wearing off.

“Felix, darling have some water.” Elspeth said handing Felix a plastic cup that she had filled with the water sat off to the side of them. His hands shook as he took a sip of the water finally speaking up for the first time since he’d let the doctors take y/n from his arm.

“I won’t be able to live if something happens to her.” It was almost a whisper but everyone heard it

“She’s going to be okay.” Farleigh not only told Felix but also himself and everyone in the room for that matter all of them having the same sinking feeling.

“But what if it’s not.”

In the hush of the hospital waiting room, Felix ensnared in a web of anxiety, perched on the edge of a hard plastic chair. His knees are caught in a restless rhythm, an involuntary dance fueled by the uncertainty of y/n’s condition. The minutes stretch like elastic as he nervously glances at the clock, each tick amplifying the echo of his worries.

Unable to contain the nervous energy, Felix succumbs to the urge to pace back and forth across the linoleum floor. His steps are uneven, a physical manifestation of the emotional turbulence swirling within. The harsh fluorescent lights cast shadows that play on his strained expression, the weight of concern etched across his face.

Meanwhile, His family huddles nearby, attempting to offer solace in whispered words and gentle touches. Their eyes mirror his apprehension, but they muster comforting smiles and attempts at casual conversation, striving to create a shield against the suffocating atmosphere of the waiting room.

The air is thick with anticipation, each passing second an agonizing reminder of the unknown. Felix, caught between the pull of hope and the gravity of fear, finds solace neither in the uncomfortable chair nor the sterile surroundings. All that matters is the impending news about y/n’s well-being, an answer that lingers just out of reach, teasing the frayed edges of his nerves. What felt like an eternity later a doctor came into the room everyone’s attention on them

“I’m Doctor Robinson I’m y/n’s doctor Today.” The woman started but before she could get another word out Felix croaked

“Is she okay?”

“Y/n is doing better than we could have hoped for her case, you did the right thing getting her here when you did. Her toxicology came back and it looks like she ingested a lethal amount of benzodiazepines which we believe after conversation with Elspeth to be as a result of spiking in something she will have drank at the party this evening.” The doctor explained everyone felt a weight lifted off there shoulders as they said she was doing better

“Can I see her?” Felix asked

“She’s not awake yet, however you are more than welcome to sit at her bedside until she does wake up.” Felix shoot up out of his seat almost instantly the others silently agreeing to let him go alone as he followed the doctor to her room.

Felix heart broke as soon as he walked into the room seeing y/n laying there with multiple IVs stuck in her arm. He chocked back his tears as he made his way to sit next to her taking his hand in hers.

At what felt like only moments later as if she was awoke by his presence she was finally conscious again. Felix kiss the back of her hand as he thanked god for keeping her safe

“Hey pretty.” He whispered softly as a few tears rolled down his cheeks she smiled softly at him squeezing his hand

“Hi.” She croaked out her eyes half open. Her entire body ached as she reached out to wipe his tears away “Don’t cry Fi, I’m okay.”

“You scared me so much baby.” He said as more tears rolled down his cheeks

“god if you had - but I didn’t and I’m okay.” She said knowing where his train of thought was going. She shuffled herself to one side of the bed making room for Felix next to her as she patted the spot which he waisted no time climbing into

“Did they tell you what happen?” She asked as she got comfortable on his chest as Felix petted her head. Felix let out a sigh not sure how to approach the topic.

“The doctors said you had a lot of benzodiazepines in your system.” Felix started and he felt her tense up

“What- I don’t do that kinda thing… I’d never.” She said as tears rolled down her cheeks

“I know baby I know, mum knows that too everyone knows you’re not like that.” He whispered y/n had always made it gleaming obvious she didn’t like the idea of every taking drugs while she never judged those who did she couldn’t bare the thought of losing herself to drugs the way her father did.

“Then how?” She asked knowing exactly how but she needed him to say it

“The doctors think something you drank was spiked.” Felix said and her heart sank. Saltburn was supposed to be a space space where she didn’t have to worry about stuff like that. A place where nothing bad could possible happen.

“You don’t think…” she started and Felix knew exactly what she was hinting at. Ollie. The only thing she had drank that she hadn’t opened the bottle or poured herself was the champagne she snatched from his hands.

“I… I Really fucking hope not.” Felix whispered just as Elspeth and everyone knocked at the door wanting to check in y/n themselves

“Oh darling, I’m so glad You’re okay. You had us all worried sick.” Elspeth said rushing over to y/n’s bedside who gave her a weak smile

“Is there anything we can do or get you?” James said standing next to his wife placing a comforting hand on her shoulder

“I would really just like to go home.” Y/n said and just as Venetia was about yo say she’d go speak to the doctor Felix spoke up

“No, you can’t go home yet.” He began looking down at her “you need to stay here and get better.”

“Fels, I’m okay I just need to rest.” y/n said just as her doctor walked into the room

“Ah y/n, glad to see you’re awake.” She began as she picked up her chart from the end of the bed “I’m sure Felix here told you, we found a lethal amount of benzodiazepines in your system which is what caused you to lose consciousness. If it wasn’t for your lovely family getting you here when they did we’d be looking at a very different outcome.” Y/n squeezed Felix’s hand softly nodding to what the doctor was telling her.

“For now I suggest you go home and rest up take it easy for a few day, which I’m sure everyone in this room will see too that you do and make sure you’re drinking plenty of fluids.” Y/n looked up at Felix while the doctor went to collect the discharge papers

“See baby, I told you I’m okay.” She said as he leaned down to kiss her softly

“I’m so glad you’re okay pretty.”

“Well Im lucky I have you, my knight in shining armour.”

[wilwheaton]

favorite goncharov character

Goncharov! Holy shit I haven't thought about Goncharov in YEARS!

I remember seeing it at the Vista theatre downtown in ... I want to say 1983? It was either 82 and I was 10, or 83 and I was 11. Now that I think about it, it must have been Spring of 83. I remember that Kimmy Mendini was my babysitter, and she drove my friend Ahmed and me all the way downtown to see Goncharov. She would have been at least 16, but I feel like she was a little older. I remember that she LOVED movies and just never stopped talking about European cinema.

Ha! I can still her her sort of roll "Cinema" out of her mouth. Movies were for the masses to watch, while sophisticated adults experienced Cinema. I'm just realizing now that she absolutely pronounced it with a capital C. She was like "you are so lucky to see a clean print of Goncharov!"

I had no idea what a clean print was, but I understood it was important and impressive.

She had read about this screening in the LA Weekly, which I didn't know at the time was TREMENDOUSLY subversive in our suburban part of Los Angeles County, and we were going to an old theatre in maybe not the greatest part of town, but Kimmy had been watching me since I was in second grade and was like my big sister. I knew we'd be safe with her.

That old theatre (which is now a fucking swap meet) was just so beautiful inside. 100 foot ceilings, box seats, gold paint and murals. It felt like a place you went to experience Cinema, but, like ... it had absolutely seen better days. I remember that I felt kind of bad for the place, a little embarrassed, like when I got a good grade and accidentally made eye contact with a friend who got a D.

Okay. This clearly hit a memory artery, and I appreciate you staying with me this far, when we finally get to the fireworks factory. We're walking up to the box office, and she tells Ahmed and me that we have to wait on the sidewalk, because *technically* it's rated R, and she's not our legal guardian, but what does this guy making two bucks an hour know about art anyway?

So we wait. She buys the tickets, and then we all walk in as casually as we can.

I remember how scared I was that we were going to get caught and they'd call the cops (that's how it worked in my anxiety-ridden brain), but literally nobody cared. The theatre wasn't even half full, and everyone there was a dude at least as old as my parents.

You know the story, so I don't have to recount all of it, but I can at this very moment remember how shocked I was when Bruno was shot. This was the first time, ever, I had felt an emotional connection to a character. I didn't cry when Bambi's mother was shot, I didn't cry when ET died, I didn't cry E V E R.

But when Bruno died? I didn't make a sound. I just silently wept. Tears just poured down my face and I wanted to roll back time, rewrite the movie, and get him out of that room.

I obviously understand now, all these years later why I connected to him and why his story meant and means so much to me, but at the time I had no idea. I just thought the actors were that good.

I can't believe that guy who played him died so young. I think he was like 40? I remember thinking that was old. Now I know different.

When the movie was over, Kimmy asked us how we liked it. Ahmed was obsessed with the photography (he grew up to be an illustrator), and I obviously had my Bruno Moment.

We got Thrifty ice cream on the way home and listened to Donna Summer in her Datsun.

I haven't thought about Goncharov or Cinema or Kimmy in FOREVER. Leave it to Tumblr to boost my nostalgia check to a natural 20.

tl;dr: Bruno. I know he's supposed to be that character we all hate, and there are so many valid reasons for that. But when I was 12 ... well, I was a different person.

Oh! And now that I know what a "clean print" is, having seen so many "dirty prints" in revival houses before they all turned into swap meets or churches (hey, two places where people sell you stuff and take your money!), I retroactively appreciate it in a way that would make Kimmy happy.

Thanks for the trip into the crumbling mall that is my childhood memories. I haven't been here in awhile and it was nice to visit.

[rafesapologist]

could you write a JJ x reader

Where sarah wants to include her best friend (reader) on the gold. Reader and jj absolutely hate eachother. reader is sleeping with rafe but soon catches feelings for jj. jj realises he didn’t hate reader but was in love with her the whole time👀 sorry if this is all over the place😂

we can't be friends ─ jj maybank

summary: jj maybank hates sarah cameron's best friend, at least, he thought he did

warnings: mature themes, swearing, jj being a dick

author's note: thank you for sending in this request! love the idea. i also wrote this with writer's block so forgive me for the delay, if you'd like a part 2 pls let me know

The sun hung low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the secluded stretch of beach where the Chateau stood, its weathered walls a testament to its history. Inside, JJ and Sarah were deep in conversation, their voices muffled but urgent. You approached cautiously, sensing the tension in the air.

As you neared, JJ's eyes flicked to you, his expression guarded. There was a certain coldness in his gaze, a barrier you couldn't quite penetrate. Sarah turned to him, a pleading look in her eyes.

"Come on, JJ," she urged, her voice soft but determined. "She could be a real help. We need all the hands we can get if we're going to find the gold."

But JJ's response was immediate, his tone clipped. "No way," he stated flatly, shaking his head. "I'm not bringing her along."

Sarah's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why not? She's willing to help. And you know she's capable."

But JJ remained unmoved, his gaze unwavering. "I don't trust her," he admitted, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "And I'm not about to risk the mission just to accommodate her."

You felt a surge of anger rising within you at JJ's words, a flush of embarrassment burning in your cheeks. You had hoped to prove yourself, to show that you were capable of more than he believed. But it seemed that no matter what you did, JJ would always see you as an outsider, as someone unworthy of his trust.

As Sarah continued to plead your case, you couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation wash over you. It seemed that no amount of convincing would change JJ's mind. And as John B joined the conversation, his expression thoughtful but ultimately in agreement with JJ, you knew that your hopes of joining them on their adventure had been dashed.

The tension in the air was palpable as the conversation seemed to reach a standstill. Just when it seemed like JJ's decision was final, Kiara stepped forward, her voice cutting through the silence like a whip cracking.

"Seriously, JJ, get over yourself," Kiara chimed in, her tone laced with exasperation. "We could use more women in the group anyways. It's not like she's asking for a free ride."

Her words hung in the air, echoing in the room as everyone turned to look at her, surprised by her sudden interjection. Even JJ seemed taken aback by Kiara's boldness, his expression shifting from defiance to mild annoyance.

But Kiara wasn't finished. She crossed her arms over her chest, fixing JJ with a pointed stare. "She's got skills, whether you want to admit it or not," she continued, her voice unwavering. "And we need all the help we can get if we're going to pull this off."

Sarah nodded in agreement, her eyes pleading with JJ to reconsider. "She's right, JJ," she added, her voice gentle but firm. "We can't afford to be picky about who joins us. We need all the help we can get."

For a moment, JJ seemed to waver, his gaze flickering between Kiara and Sarah. But then, with a resigned sigh, he relented, his shoulders slumping slightly in defeat.

"Fine," he muttered, his voice begrudging. "But if anything happens, it's on you."

You couldn't help but feel a surge of relief at JJ's reluctant agreement, grateful for Kiara's intervention. As the tension in the room began to dissipate, you realized that despite JJ's initial resistance, you were finally going to be a part of the adventure. And as the group began to make plans for the journey ahead, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within you.

The girls exchanged excited glances, their faces lighting up with anticipation at the prospect of you joining their adventure. Sarah grinned encouragingly, while Kiara gave you a supportive nod. Even though JJ's begrudging acceptance hung in the air, their enthusiasm was infectious.

But as you basked in their excitement, JJ couldn't resist interjecting with a snarky comment, his eyes rolling in exasperation.

"Well, isn't this just great," he muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "We're letting Rafe's girlfriend tag along now."

His words stung, a bitter reminder of the animosity between him and Rafe, a rivalry that seemed to overshadow everything else. You could feel a flush of indignation rising within you at JJ's remark, but before you could respond, Sarah shot him a warning glance.

"First of all, Rafe is not my boyfriend," you retorted, your voice firm and assertive. "And even if he were, it wouldn't define me or my capabilities."

JJ rolled his eyes at your retort, his skepticism evident despite his attempt to brush it off. There was still a lingering doubt in his expression, a hint of disbelief that lingered like a stubborn shadow.

"Sure, sure," he muttered, his tone still tinged with skepticism. "Whatever you say."

You could sense that JJ wasn't entirely convinced by your words, but you didn't let it deter you. Instead, you focused on the task at hand, determined to prove yourself through actions rather than words.

As the conversation shifted back to the logistics of the journey, you pushed aside JJ's lingering doubts and threw yourself into the planning process with renewed determination. With each contribution you made, you aimed to show JJ and the rest of the group that you were a valuable asset, regardless of any misconceptions they might have had.

And as the discussions continued late into the evening, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that you had stood up for yourself, even in the face of skepticism. With each step closer to the adventure ahead, you were determined to earn JJ's respect and prove that you belonged among them, no matter what doubts he may harbor.

Taking a deep breath to compose yourself, you pushed JJ's lingering doubt to the back of your mind, focusing instead on the task at hand. With a determined nod, you joined in on the group discussion about their plans for the gold.

As Sarah and Kiara outlined their ideas, you listened intently, eager to contribute and make your mark on the conversation. Drawing from your own knowledge and experiences, you offered suggestions and insights, each one met with nods of approval from the group.

Despite JJ's initial skepticism, you refused to let it dampen your spirits. With each passing moment, you felt a growing sense of confidence, knowing that you were making valuable contributions to the discussion.

As the conversation stretched on into the night, the group's excitement and determination only seemed to grow. Together, you hashed out the finer details of your plan, ironing out potential challenges and devising strategies to overcome them.

By the time the discussion drew to a close, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in what you had accomplished. Despite JJ's doubts, you had proven yourself as a valuable member of the team, ready to take on whatever challenges lay ahead.

As the discussion wound down, you rose from your seat, feeling a sense of finality settle over you. With a determined expression, you turned to your friends, minus JJ, and announced your goodbye.

"Alright, I'm heading out," you said, your voice steady and resolute. "Sarah, I'll meet you back at your house tonight to go over the final details."

Sarah smiled warmly, nodding in agreement. "Sounds good," she replied. "We'll see you then."

But as you turned to leave, JJ couldn't resist interjecting with a scoff, his disbelief still evident in his expression. The sound earned him a sharp death glare from Sarah, who didn't hesitate to voice her displeasure.

"Cut it out, JJ," she admonished, her tone stern. "She's part of the team, whether you like it or not."

Feeling a spark of mischief, you couldn't resist the opportunity to deliver a sly comeback to JJ's scoffing. With a smirk playing at the corners of your lips, you turned to face him, meeting his skeptical gaze head-on.

"Well, JJ," you said, your tone dripping with playful sarcasm, "don't worry, I'll be sure to bring back some gold for you to scoff at too."

The corner of JJ's mouth twitched in response, a hint of begrudging amusement flickering in his eyes despite his best efforts to maintain his facade. Sarah stifled a chuckle, shooting you a knowing look, while Kiara grinned approvingly.

With a satisfied smirk, you turned and made your exit, leaving JJ to ponder your words as you headed out into the night, determined to prove him wrong and show that you were more than capable of holding your own in the adventure to come.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Back at Tanny Hill, nestled in Rafe's bedroom, you found yourself perched on the edge of the bed, Rafe's head resting comfortably in your lap. The dim glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm ambiance around the room as you launched into a rant about your frustrations with JJ.

"I swear, Rafe," you began, your voice tinged with irritation, "JJ can be such an insufferable know-it-all. He acts like he's the king of the world, and everyone else is just along for the ride."

Rafe listened attentively, nodding in understanding as you vented your frustrations. His hand absentmindedly traced patterns on your leg as you spoke, a comforting gesture that helped to soothe your frayed nerves.

"I get it," Rafe replied sympathetically, his gaze meeting yours with empathy. "He can be a real pain sometimes, but you know how he is."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. "I know, I know," you muttered, "but that doesn't make it any easier to deal with. Sometimes I just want to shake some sense into him."

Rafe chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Believe me, I've been there," he said, his tone laced with affection. "But hey, at least you have me to vent to, right?"

You couldn't help but smile at Rafe's words, grateful for his unwavering support. Leaning down, you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, feeling a sense of reassurance wash over you in his presence.

"Yeah," you replied softly, "at least I have you."

As the two of you settled into a comfortable silence, the weight of your frustrations lifted slightly. And as you wrapped your arms around Rafe, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing against your chest, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his presence in your life, even in the midst of chaos.

Rafe shifted slightly in your lap, his brow furrowed with curiosity as he gazed up at you.

"So, I gotta ask," he began, his tone tinged with curiosity and a hint of annoyance, "what's with you loving to hang out with Sarah and her Pogue friends so much?"

His question caught you off guard for a moment, but you composed yourself before responding, understanding his frustration regarding his sister.

"Well, Rafe," you replied, meeting his gaze evenly, "there's something special about the bond they share. They're like a family, always there for each other no matter what. It's refreshing to be a part of that."

Rafe's expression softened slightly as he listened to your explanation, but there was still a hint of skepticism lingering in his eyes.

"But why them?" he pressed, his curiosity unabated. "You could hang out with anyone in the Outer Banks. Why them specifically?"

You took a moment to consider your words before answering, wanting to convey the depth of your connection with Sarah and her friends.

"It's not just about hanging out," you explained, your voice earnest. "They make me feel like I belong, like I'm a part of something bigger than myself. And that's something I haven't found anywhere else. I mean, except for JJ."

Rafe nodded slowly, seemingly mulling over your response. There was a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a recognition of the importance of finding a sense of belonging.

Rafe's chuckle turned into a full-fledged laugh, his amusement mirroring your sentiments about JJ. There was a glint of camaraderie in his eyes as he nodded emphatically.

"Oh, trust me, I know," Rafe replied, his laughter subsiding into a smirk. "JJ can be a real pain in the ass sometimes."

You couldn't help but grin at Rafe's candid agreement, feeling a sense of validation in knowing that you weren't alone in your frustrations with JJ.

"Tell me about it," you replied, shaking your head in mock exasperation. "It's like he goes out of his way to be difficult."

Rafe nodded in emphatic agreement, a playful glint in his eye. "Yeah, well, don't worry," he reassured you, "you just gotta keep him in check."

With a shared understanding, you and Rafe settled into a comfortable silence, the tension from earlier dissipating in the wake of your shared laughter. With Rafe by your side, you felt confident that you could handle whatever challenges lay ahead, even if it meant dealing with JJ's antics.

As Rafe nestled into you, his breathing steady and even as he drifted off to sleep, you remained awake, your mind buzzing with thoughts of how to prove yourself and prove JJ wrong. With your head against the headboard, you let out a soft sigh, the weight of determination settling over you like a heavy blanket.

You replayed the events of the day in your mind, reflecting on JJ's skepticism and the challenges you faced in gaining his trust. But instead of feeling discouraged, you felt a surge of determination coursing through your veins. You were determined to show JJ and everyone else that you were more than capable of handling whatever challenges came your way.

With each passing moment, you formulated plans and strategies, mapping out the steps you would take to prove yourself. Whether it was through your actions, your skills, or your unwavering determination, you were determined to make JJ look stupid for doubting you and show him that you belonged among them.

You tossed and turned restlessly, the memory of JJ's dismissive demeanor replaying over and over in your mind like a broken record. Each time you closed your eyes, his snide remarks echoed in your head, fueling a growing anger that refused to be quelled.

Cursing him silently in your thoughts, you berated JJ for his narrow-mindedness and his unwillingness to see beyond his own biases. You couldn't understand why he insisted on treating you as an outsider, refusing to acknowledge your potential and the contributions you could make to their group.

With each passing moment, your frustration only grew, simmering beneath the surface like a dormant volcano waiting to erupt. You longed to confront JJ, to demand an explanation for his behavior and to prove him wrong once and for all.

But as the night wore on and the darkness pressed in around you, you realized that confronting JJ wouldn't solve anything. Instead, you resolved to channel your anger into determination, using it as fuel to drive you forward and prove him wrong through your actions.

And as the first light of dawn began to filter through the window, you finally drifted off into a restless sleep, the weight of your annoyance with JJ still heavy on your mind but tempered by a newfound resolve to prove him wrong.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

As the morning light filtered through the curtains, you stirred from your restless sleep, your mind still buzzing with determination from the events of the previous night. Glancing down, you noticed Rafe still sound asleep, his breathing steady and peaceful.

Not wanting to disturb him, you quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him. With a sense of urgency gnawing at you, you hastily gathered your belongings, grabbing your backpack from the floor and slinging it over your shoulder.

As you made your way downstairs, you moved quickly but quietly, mindful of the early hour. The house was still and quiet, the only sound the soft creaking of the floorboards beneath your feet.

With each step, your determination grew stronger, fueled by the knowledge that you were meant to meet up with your friends early that morning. You couldn't afford to be late, not when so much was at stake.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, you paused for a moment, glancing back up at the bedroom door where Rafe slept peacefully. With a pang of guilt tugging at your heart, you silently wished him a peaceful rest before turning and slipping out the front door.

As you stepped out into the crisp morning air, a surge of anticipation coursed through you. With each passing moment, you drew closer to meeting up with your friends and embarking on the adventure that lay ahead. And as you set off down the deserted street, the weight of determination heavy on your shoulders, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within you. Today was the day you would prove yourself and show JJ just what you were capable of.

As you pedaled your bike towards the Chateau, the cool morning air whipped against your skin, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. Your mind raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety, the events of the previous night still fresh in your memory.

You couldn't shake the frustration and annoyance JJ's doubts had stirred within you. It irked you how much he was getting under your skin, his skepticism serving as a constant reminder of the uphill battle you faced in proving yourself.

But as you rode, you made a conscious effort to push aside those negative thoughts, focusing instead on the task at hand. You knew you couldn't afford to let JJ's doubts derail you, not when so much was riding on the success of your mission.

With each turn of the pedal, you forced yourself to stay focused, channeling your energy into the anticipation of what lay ahead. The Chateau loomed in the distance, a silent beacon calling you forward with promises of adventure and opportunity.

As you neared your destination, a sense of determination settled over you like a comforting blanket. You knew that despite JJ's doubts, you had the skills and the determination to come out successful. Today would be the day you silenced his skepticism once and for all. With renewed resolve, you pedaled harder, pushing yourself to reach the Chateau and meet up with your friends. As you arrived at your destination, the rush of anticipation and determination fueled your every step, driving you forward towards the adventure that awaited.

You parked your bike and hopped off, the excitement of the moment urging you forward. But as you made your way towards the front porch of the Chateau, a familiar, nagging voice pierced the air from behind, causing you to freeze in your tracks.

"Well, well, well, look who actually showed up."

You turned around slowly, your heart sinking as you spotted JJ leaning against his bike, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. His tone was taunting, dripping with sarcasm and disbelief.

You felt a surge of frustration rise within you at JJ's mocking words, but you refused to let it show. Squaring your shoulders, you met his gaze head-on, your expression determined despite the doubt gnawing at your confidence.

Ignoring the urge to snap back at him, you simply offered a tight-lipped smile, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you rattled.

"Yep, here I am," you replied evenly, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling inside you. "Ready to get down to business."

"Surprised you're capable of not being up your boyfriend's ass for a day," JJ's remark cut through the air like a knife, his sarcasm dripping with disdain. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as his words struck a nerve, but you refused to let him see how much they affected you.

With a tight-lipped smile, you turned to face JJ once again, your voice steady despite the anger simmering beneath the surface.

"Surprise, surprise," you retorted, your tone laced with sarcasm of your own. "plus, I knew you'd need my help at some point. And like I told you before, he's not my boyfriend, you dick." You could see the flicker of annoyance in JJ's eyes as he absorbed your words, his facade slipping for just a moment before he regained his composure.

"Whatever," he muttered dismissively, rolling his eyes in a display of feigned indifference.

Refusing to engage any further, you turned away from JJ and continued towards the front porch, determined to focus on the task at hand. You knew that proving yourself to JJ would be an uphill battle, but you were more determined than ever to show him just what you were capable of.

As you entered the Chateau, a wave of relief washed over you, replacing the tension of your encounter with JJ with a sense of warmth and familiarity. Your friends greeted you with smiles and expressions of joy, their enthusiasm contagious.

"Hey!" John B exclaimed, his voice filled with both concern and excitement as he approached you. "Are you ready for this?"

You returned his smile, feeling a surge of determination welling up inside you. Despite the lingering doubts and skepticism from certain members of the group, you knew deep down that you were ready for whatever challenges lay ahead.

"Absolutely," you replied, your voice steady and resolute. "I'm ready to give it everything I've got."

John B nodded approvingly, his expression filled with confidence. "That's what I like to hear," he said, clapping you on the shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie. "We're all in this together."

Sarah's voice rang out with unwavering confidence, cutting through the chatter of excitement like a beacon of support.

"I knew she wouldn't let us down," she declared, her tone filled with certainty and pride.

Her words ignited a spark within you, filling you with a sense of determination and purpose. With Sarah's faith in your abilities, you felt a surge of confidence welling up inside you, driving away any lingering doubts or uncertainties.

"Thanks, Sarah," you replied, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "I wouldn't ever."

Her smile mirrored your own as she nodded in agreement, her eyes shining with unwavering belief in your capabilities. With Sarah's support bolstering your resolve, you felt ready to take on whatever challenges lay ahead, confident in your ability to rise to the occasion. As the group gathered around to finalize their plans, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for Sarah's unwavering confidence in you. With her belief in your abilities and the support of your friends by your side, you knew that together, you were capable of achieving anything.

The moment of joy was abruptly shattered as JJ's voice echoed through the living room, cutting through the camaraderie with his usual snarky demeanor.

"Well, let's hope she's as good as you all seem to think she is," he remarked, his tone dripping with skepticism.

His words hung in the air like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over the room and dampening the spirits of the group. You could feel the weight of JJ's doubt pressing down on you, threatening to undermine the confidence you had worked so hard to build.

Rolling your eyes at JJ's predictable cynicism, you turned to face him, a defiant glint in your eye as you prepared to counter his snarky remark.

"Wow, JJ, didn't realize you were the designated pessimist of the group," you quipped, your tone laced with sarcasm. "But hey, if you're looking for someone to bring down the mood, I guess you're doing a great job."

A ripple of laughter spread through the room at your comeback, breaking the tension that had settled over the group in JJ's wake. Even Sarah shot you a supportive grin, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

JJ's expression darkened momentarily, his jaw tightening with irritation, but you held his gaze steadily, refusing to back down. Despite his best efforts to undermine you, you remained steadfast in your resolve to prove him wrong. With a dismissive wave of your hand, you turned away from JJ, returning your focus to the task at hand. Today was not about letting his negativity get to you – it was about showing everyone, including JJ, what you were truly capable of.

Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you turned to face the group, your expression resolute as you awaited their instructions.

John B, the natural leader of the group, stepped forward, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering confidence. "We need you to keep an eye out," he said, his voice steady and sure. "We'll need someone watching our backs while we're inside."

Kiara nodded in agreement, her eyes flashing with determination. "Yeah, and we'll need someone quick and agile," she added. "In case things get hairy."

Pope chimed in next, his tone thoughtful. "Maybe you could scout ahead," he suggested. "See if there are any potential obstacles or threats we need to be aware of."

Sarah, ever the strategist, nodded approvingly. "That sounds like a plan," she said, her voice filled with confidence. "We'll need someone reliable in that role, and I know we can count on you."

As each of your friends offered their suggestions and assigned tasks, you listened intently, absorbing every detail and mentally preparing yourself for the role ahead. With a nod of determination, you accepted your role in the plan, ready to do whatever it took to ensure the success of the mission.

With his arms crossed and a dry tone, JJ interjected, "So, are we all set to go?"

His question was laced with skepticism, his doubt hanging heavy in the air. Despite the excitement and determination of the group, JJ's cynicism threatened to cast a shadow over the impending adventure.

But instead of letting his negativity dampen the mood, Sarah shot JJ a pointed look, her eyes flashing with determination. "Yes, JJ," she replied firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "We're ready."

There was a collective nod of agreement from the rest of the group, each member echoing Sarah's sentiment with unwavering confidence. Even though JJ's negativity lingered, the group remained resolute in their determination to press forward.

With a resigned sigh, JJ uncrossed his arms and nodded, a hint of begrudging acceptance in his expression. "Fine," he muttered, his tone begrudging but resigned. "Let's get this show on the road."

As you and the Pogues packed up your gear for the mission, the tension between you and JJ hung heavy in the air, a palpable reminder of the skepticism and doubt that still lingered between you.

With John B at the wheel and Sarah in the passenger seat as usual, the rest of you piled into the back of the van. You, Kiara, Pope, and JJ found yourselves seated in close quarters, the space feeling smaller and more confined with the weight of the unspoken tension.

Despite the excitement of the impending adventure, the atmosphere in the van was thick with unease, the silence punctuated only by the low hum of the engine as the van rolled along the road.

You tried to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside the lingering animosity between you and JJ, but the tension refused to dissipate. Every movement, every shift in posture felt like a silent battle for dominance, the unspoken conflict simmering just beneath the surface.

Pope's voice broke the heavy silence like a ray of sunlight piercing through storm clouds. "So guys," he began, his voice clear but cautious, "maybe we should go over the plan one more time."

His suggestion hung in the air, a lifeline in the midst of the tense atmosphere. You could feel the tension easing slightly as Pope's words redirected the group's focus from the underlying friction between you and JJ.

"Yeah, Pope?" Kiara responded, her voice echoing with gratitude for the opportunity to shift the conversation away from the lingering tension.

With a nod of agreement, you added, "That sounds like a good idea. A quick refresher won't hurt."

Pope's shoulders relaxed visibly as he cleared his throat once more, diving into the details of the plan with renewed determination. As he spoke, his voice steady and sure, the tension in the van gradually began to dissipate, replaced by a shared sense of purpose and focus.

With each word, Pope's explanation served as a reminder of the mission ahead and the importance of working together as a team. Despite the underlying tension, you knew that you and the Pogues were united in your determination to succeed.

JJ's dry laughter reverberated through the van, his head tilted back against the wall as he made his snarky remark. "Good idea, Pope," he quipped, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "We all know Y/N needs it explained to her a few times."

His words stung like a slap to the face, the underlying implication clear: JJ didn't believe in your abilities, and he wasn't afraid to make that known. You could feel the tension in the van ratcheting up another notch as his comment hung in the air, the weight of his comments pressing down on you like a lead weight. You could feel the eyes of the rest of the group on you, waiting to see how you would react to JJ's barb.

JJ's look pierced through the air like a dagger, his expression a mixture of disdain and mockery. With a sneer, he couldn't resist making another cutting remark aimed at you.

"Well, what do you expect?" he quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "We all know Y/N's just a dumb kook."

His words hit you like a blow to the gut, the venom in his tone cutting deep. You could feel the eyes of the others in the van flickering between you and JJ, the tension thickening with each passing moment.

But you refused to let JJ's insults get the best of you. Steeling yourself against the hurt and frustration bubbling within, you met his gaze with a defiant stare, refusing to let him see how much his words affected you.

"Real mature, JJ," you shot back, your voice laced with equal parts anger and determination. "But I'd rather be a 'dumb kook' than an asshole." Your retort hung in the air, a challenge to JJ's arrogance and superiority.

Kiara's intervention was a welcome relief from the escalating tension in the van. "Guys, seriously," she interjected, her voice firm but calm. "Nothing is gonna get done if you two keep arguing all the time."

Her words served as a sobering reminder of the task at hand, grounding the group in the reality of the situation. You felt a pang of guilt for allowing JJ's taunts to escalate the conflict, but you knew that Kiara was right. This wasn't the time for petty squabbles.

Before you could respond, JJ's voice cut in, his tone surprisingly subdued. "I'm just telling the truth," he muttered quietly, his words tinged with a hint of defensiveness.

Turning to JJ, frustration seeping into your voice, you couldn't help but let out a sigh of exasperation. "Do you even know how to shut up?" you asked, your tone laced with irritation.

The words slipped out before you could stop them, borne out of the frustration of JJ's constant need to belittle and undermine you. You could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on you, waiting to see how JJ would respond.

For a moment, there was silence in the van, the tension palpable as JJ considered his response. Finally, he met your gaze with a cool, collected expression, his tone even as he replied, "Do you?"

His retort hit you like a slap in the face, the sting of it leaving you momentarily speechless. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, the frustration boiling beneath the surface.

But before you could respond, Kiara jumped in, her voice cutting through the tension. "Alright, enough," she declared, her tone firm but calm. "We've got bigger things to worry about right now."

Her words served as a much-needed reminder, grounding the group in the reality of the situation. With a resigned sigh, you forced yourself to let go of the argument, turning your attention back to the task at hand.

Just as the tension in the van threatened to reach its boiling point, John B's voice cut through the air like a lifeline, breaking the cycle of conflict. "Hey, everyone," he called out, his tone firm but reassuring. "We're here."

His words were a welcome interruption, drawing everyone's attention away from the argument and back to the task at hand. With a sense of relief, you turned to look out the window, realizing that the van had come to a halt at your destination.

As the group began to stir, gathering their gear and preparing to disembark, the lingering tension in the van began to dissipate, replaced by a renewed sense of focus and determination. Despite the disagreements and arguments that had threatened to derail your mission, you knew that you were all united in your shared goal.

As the group flooded out of the van, you couldn't help but notice the way the boys linked up, falling into their familiar roles with ease. But your attention was drawn to JJ, who seemed to move with a purpose that made your stomach churn with unease.

Your eyes widened as you watched him discreetly slip a handgun into his pocket, hiding it under his shirt as if it were just another accessory. The sight sent a shiver down your spine, a lump forming in your throat as you struggled to comprehend the implications of what you had just witnessed.

A sense of unease settled over you like a heavy blanket as you followed the group, the weight of JJ's actions lingering in the air. Despite the adrenaline pumping through your veins, you couldn't shake the feeling of dread that washed over you, a nagging voice in the back of your mind warning you of the danger that lay ahead.

Kiara's sudden touch on your shoulders startled you, pulling you out of your uneasy thoughts. You turned to face her, meeting her determined gaze with a sense of gratitude for her grounding presence.

"Y/N, do you know exactly what you're supposed to do?" she asked, her voice firm but reassuring.

Her question cut through the fog of your unease, forcing you to focus on the task at hand. With a nod, you replied, "Yes, Kiara. I'm clear on my role."

Her hands remained on your shoulders, her grip steady as she held your gaze. "Good," she said, a hint of pride in her voice. "We're counting on you." With Kiara's support bolstering your confidence, you squared your shoulders and took a deep breath, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

As the group dispersed into the house, each member moving with purpose towards their assigned tasks, you felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. With a sense of determination, you sprang into action, wasting no time in fulfilling the role that had been assigned to you.

Outside the house, you took up your position, scanning the surroundings with keen eyes. The cool breeze tousled your hair as you stood watch, your senses on high alert for any signs of trouble.

With practiced ease, you moved silently, keeping to the shadows as you patrolled the perimeter. Every rustle of leaves, every creak of a branch, sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins, but you remained calm and composed, your focus unwavering.

As you surveyed the area, your mind raced with possibilities, every scenario playing out in your head as you prepared for any eventuality. Despite the tension that hung in the air, you refused to let it cloud your judgment, trusting in your instincts to guide you through the darkness.

With each passing moment, you felt a sense of purpose growing within you, fueled by the knowledge that you were playing a crucial role in the mission. Despite the challenges that lay ahead, you were determined to see it through to the end, whatever it took. And as you stood watch, the weight of responsibility settling on your shoulders, you knew that you were ready.

As the moments passed, the stillness of the night enveloped you, the only sound the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Despite the apparent calm, a sense of unease gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, a nagging feeling that something was amiss.

You shifted restlessly on your feet, the weight of anticipation settling heavily on your shoulders. Every passing second felt like an eternity, each heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears as you waited for the inevitable. Deep down, you knew that this mission wouldn't be easy. The stakes were high, and the competition fierce. Everyone's goal was the same: to find the gold, no matter the cost.

As you stood watch, the tension in the air thickened, a palpable reminder of the dangers that lurked in the darkness. Every shadow seemed to hold a hidden threat, every rustle in the bushes a potential danger.

Every rustle of the bushes or trees sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins, your senses on high alert for any sign of danger. Each sound, no matter how innocent, seemed to magnify in the darkness, setting your heart racing with alarm.

You paced back and forth outside the house, the rhythm of your steps matching the frantic beat of your heart. Despite your best efforts to remain calm, the tension in the air was palpable, a constant reminder of the risks that lay ahead.

With each passing moment, you found yourself growing increasingly restless, the weight of anticipation pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. Every second felt like an eternity as you searched for ways to pass the time until your friends emerged from the house.

You tried to focus your thoughts on anything other than the looming mission, but the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on your mind. The stakes were high, and the thought of what could go wrong filled you with a sense of dread.

But despite the rising tide of anxiety threatening to overwhelm you, you refused to let it consume you. With a determined effort, you pushed aside your fears and focused on the task at hand, determined to remain vigilant until your friends returned.

The sound of a car pulling up outside snapped you out of your reverie, your attention immediately drawn to the source of the noise. Your senses went on high alert as you strained to listen, the murmur of voices in the distance sending a shiver down your spine.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you realized that it could only mean one thing: the men who were looking for your friends had arrived. Panic surged through you like a tidal wave as you processed the gravity of the situation.

"Shit, shit, shit," you whispered to yourself, the words escaping your lips in a breathless rush. Your mind raced with possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last. The safety of your friends hung in the balance, and you knew that you had to act fast.

As the male voices drew nearer, your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline surging through your veins as you frantically scanned your surroundings for a place to hide. With every passing moment, the sense of urgency grew more pressing, driving you to act quickly before it was too late.

Spotting a corner of the house nearby, you made a split-second decision and darted towards it, your footsteps quick and silent as you sought refuge from the approaching danger. With a racing mind and trembling hands, you pressed yourself against the rough exterior of the building, willing yourself to blend into the shadows and remain unseen.

The voices grew louder as the group approached, their conversation a distant murmur that sent shivers down your spine. You held your breath, your heart hammering in your chest as you listened intently, straining to make out any discernible words.

As the men drew closer, your muscles tensed with anticipation, every nerve on edge as you braced yourself for the inevitable confrontation. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you waited, the seconds stretching out into an eternity as you prepared to face whatever came your way.

In the brightness of day, your heart pounded in your chest as you peeked around the corner, spotting the men on the front porch with the sunlight casting long shadows around them. Their presence sent a chill down your spine, knowing they posed a threat to your friends inside the house.

Your mind raced, desperate for a plan to thwart their entry. With each passing second, the urgency of the situation intensified, driving you to act swiftly.

In a surge of impulse, your eyes landed on a large log nearby. Without a second thought, you seized it, your fingers wrapping around the rough bark as you steadied your grip.

With determination fueling your movements, you approached the men from behind, their backs turned to you as they lingered on the porch. The weight of the log in your hands was a tangible reminder of the stakes at hand. As you drew nearer, your heart thundered in your chest, drowning out all other sound. The sun beat down on your back, but you remained focused, your gaze locked on the men ahead.

As the man reached for the door handle, a surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins, propelling you into action. With a swift and decisive motion, you swung the log with all your strength, connecting with a resounding thud as it collided with the man's back, sending him crashing to the ground.

For a moment, silence enveloped the scene, broken only by the dull thud of the man hitting the ground. Your heart raced in your chest as you stood frozen in shock, the weight of what you had just done settling heavily upon you.

But as the rest of the men turned to face you, their expressions a mix of bewilderment and rage, you knew that there was no time to dwell on your actions. With wide eyes and trembling hands, you dropped the makeshift weapon and turned on your heel, sprinting towards the safety of the back of the house.

Adrenaline fueled your every movement as you raced away from the scene, the sound of your footsteps echoing in your ears. Fear gripped you like a vice, but you pushed past it, focusing only on putting as much distance between yourself and the men as possible.

With every stride, you felt the weight of the danger behind you, urging you onward. The adrenaline-fueled rush of escape pulsed through your veins, driving you forward with a single-minded determination.

Panic surged through you as a strong hand closed around your arm, yanking you back with a force that made you wince. With a gasp, you stumbled backward, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled against the firm grip.

Instinctively, you tried to break free, but the hold on your arm was relentless, the pressure enough to send a sharp jolt of pain shooting through you. Fear clenched at your heart as you realized you were trapped, your mind racing with a million possibilities of what could happen next.

Desperation flooded through you as you fought against your captor, your adrenaline-fueled instincts driving you to escape. With every ounce of strength you could muster, you twisted and turned, struggling to break free from their grasp.

But no matter how hard you fought, the grip on your arm remained unyielding, the hold tightening with each passing moment. Your breath came in ragged gasps as you braced yourself for whatever was to come, the sense of helplessness weighing heavily upon you.

As your captor pulled you closer, their intentions unknown, a sense of dread settled over you like a suffocating blanket. With every fiber of your being, you prayed for a way out of this nightmare, knowing that your fate hung in the balance.

"Let go of me!" you screamed, your voice filled with desperation as you flailed your legs, struggling against the iron grip that held you captive. But your pleas fell on deaf ears as the man hoisted you effortlessly over his shoulder, his movements confident and determined.

Panic surged through you as you realized the gravity of your situation. With each step he took, your heart pounded in your chest, the fear of the unknown looming large in your mind.

As he carried you back towards the front yard, your mind raced with a million thoughts, each one more terrifying than the last. With every passing moment, the sense of helplessness threatened to overwhelm you, but you refused to give in to despair.

Summoning every ounce of strength you had left, you continued to struggle against your captor, determined to break free from his grasp. But no matter how hard you fought, his hold remained unyielding, his grip like a vice around your body. As you were carried further and further away from safety, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. With each passing moment, the reality of your predicament became clearer, and you knew that escaping would be no easy feat.

"You thought you were gonna get away from us, you little bitch?" the man's voice sneered, dripping with malice as he continued to carry you towards the front yard.

Your frustration reached its peak, and you let out a cry for your friends, hoping against hope that they might hear you and come to your rescue. But your desperate plea only seemed to further enrage the man.

With a growl of anger, he dropped you unceremoniously from his shoulder, and you crashed to the ground with a painful thud. Before you could gather your bearings, he was upon you, pushing you roughly against the brick siding of the house.

"You think you're tough, huh?" he spat, his face twisted in a mask of fury as he pressed his body against yours, pinning you with an iron grip. "Well, let me tell you something, sweetheart. You're nothing but a helpless little girl, and you're gonna regret ever crossing us." His words cut through you like a knife, each syllable laden with venom and malice. Despite the fear that threatened to overwhelm you, you refused to back down, meeting his gaze with a defiant glare.

Your eyes widened in alarm as the man's hand darted to his belt, pulling out a gleaming knife that glinted ominously in the sunlight. Your heart leaped into your throat as he pressed the blade against your skin, the cold metal sending a shiver down your spine.

With the razor-sharp edge of the knife dangerously close to your throat, a sense of dread washed over you like a tidal wave. Fear clenched at your heart as you realized the gravity of the situation, the realization sinking in that your life hung in the balance.

The man's face twisted into a cruel smirk as he held the knife to your throat, his eyes gleaming with malice. "You wanna try anything else, sweetheart?" he taunted, his voice laced with menace.

Every instinct screamed at you to fight back, to do whatever it took to escape the man's grasp. But as you stared into his eyes, you knew that any wrong move could spell disaster.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you pleaded with the man, your voice trembling with fear and desperation. "Please... just let me go," you begged, your words barely a whisper as you fought to keep your composure.

A single tear slipped from your eye, tracing a path down your cheek as you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to bear the sight of the glinting knife so close to your throat. Every fiber of your being screamed for escape, for release from the terror that gripped you in its icy grasp.

But despite your pleas, the man's grip remained firm, his hold unyielding as he continued to press the blade against your skin. The metallic tang of blood filled your nostrils, a stark reminder of the danger that lurked just inches away.

With every ounce of strength you had left, you forced yourself to remain calm, to suppress the rising tide of panic that threatened to overwhelm you. Though your heart hammered in your chest and your breath came in ragged gasps, you refused to give in to despair.

As the man drew closer, his hot breath ghosting over your ear, he whispered menacingly, "You aren't going anywhere, sweetheart. You're mine now."

Your heart sank as his words sent a shiver down your spine, the grip of fear tightening around you like a vice. But before he could finish his sentence, his voice was abruptly cut off by a sudden impact from behind him.

With a startled cry, he stumbled forward, his hold on you loosening as he struggled to maintain his balance. You watched in astonishment as he crashed to the ground, the knife clattering from his hand as he fell.

Before you could fully comprehend what had happened, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching rapidly from behind. Turning around, you saw a familiar face standing over the fallen assailant, their expression fierce with determination.

"Get away from her!" JJ growled, his voice filled with righteous anger as they glared down at the man who had threatened you.

You watched in astonishment as JJ approached the fallen assailant, his expression steely and resolute. With a determined stride, he knelt down beside the man, his movements deliberate and purposeful.

With a menacing glint in his eyes, JJ pointed his gun directly at the man's face, the cold metal pressing against his skin. His voice was low and dangerous as he spoke, each word dripping with a lethal promise.

"If you ever lay a hand on her again," JJ growled, his tone icy with menace, "you're dead. Do you understand me?"

The man's eyes widened in fear as he stared up at JJ, the full weight of his threat sinking in. With a trembling nod, he muttered a barely audible agreement, his voice trembling with fear. Satisfied that his message had been received, JJ stood up, his grip on the gun unwavering as he turned to face you. There was a fierce protectiveness in his gaze as he met your eyes.

You felt a flicker of surprise at the unfamiliar look of concern etched on JJ's face as he turned to you. His usual demeanor of bravado and aloofness seemed to soften, replaced by a genuine worry that took you off guard.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with a sincerity that you hadn't expected.

The concern in his eyes was unmistakable, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. It was rare to see JJ drop his tough exterior and show vulnerability, and yet here he was, genuinely worried about your well-being.

You nodded slowly, unable to hide the gratitude in your eyes as you met his gaze. "I'm okay," you reassured him, your voice barely above a whisper. There was a brief moment of silence between you, the weight of everything that had just transpired hanging heavy in the air. But despite the lingering tension, there was also a sense of solidarity, a silent understanding that you were all in this together at the end of the day.

JJ's concern lingered in his gaze for a moment longer before he nodded, his focus shifting to the urgency of the situation at hand.

"C'mon, we need to go," he said firmly, his voice cutting through the tension as he took charge of the situation.

Without waiting for a response, JJ reached out and grabbed your hand, his touch firm and reassuring as he pulled you along with him. With a sense of urgency, he led you in a sprint towards the van, his grip never faltering as he navigated through the chaos.

As you ran beside him, a surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins, driving you forward with a burst of energy. Despite the danger that still lurked nearby, you felt a sense of safety in JJ's presence, knowing that he would do whatever it took to protect you.

With every step, you drew closer to the safety of the van, the sound of your pounding footsteps echoing in your ears. And as you reached the vehicle, you felt a wave of relief wash over you, knowing that you were one step closer to escaping the danger that had threatened you.

With a final burst of speed, you leaped into the van beside JJ, the door slamming shut behind you as the engine roared to life. And as the van peeled away from the scene, leaving the chaos behind, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards JJ for his protection.

"Holy shit," Kiara exclaimed, her voice breathless with adrenaline as she glanced around at the group.

"That was terrifying," Pope added, his voice tinged with shock as he spoke, his wide eyes betraying the fear that still lingered within him.

His words echoed the sentiments of the entire group, each of you grappling with the intensity of the situation you had just faced. The reality of the danger you had narrowly escaped weighed heavily on your minds, leaving you all shaken but grateful to be alive.

As the van continued on its journey, the tension in the air was palpable, the silence broken only by the sound of your racing hearts. Each of you was lost in your own thoughts, trying to make sense of the chaos that had unfolded.

You threw your head back against the wall of the van, a heavy sigh escaping your lips as you tried to catch your breath. Despite the rush of adrenaline still coursing through your veins, exhaustion weighed heavily on you as you struggled to process the events of the day.

"I hope you at least found the gold," you muttered breathlessly, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them.

Sarah turned around in the passenger seat, a triumphant smile gracing her features as she reached into the bag she held beside her. With a gleam in her eyes, she pulled out a shiny object, holding it up for all to see.

The gold.

For a moment, the van fell silent as each of you stared in awe at the treasure Sarah had uncovered. The realization of what you had risked everything for, the culmination of your daring adventure, washed over you like a tidal wave.

A chorus of gasps and exclamations filled the air as you reached out to touch the gleaming metal, the weight of it in your hands a tangible reminder of the journey you had been on. It was a moment of pure triumph, a testament to your resilience and determination in the face of adversity. As you gazed at the gold, a sense of awe and wonder filled your heart. It was more than just a valuable prize; it was a symbol of everything you had overcome, a testament to the strength of your friendship and the power of your collective resolve.

"Well, you fought like hell," JJ chuckled, a rare hint of warmth in his voice as he glanced over at you.

His words were unexpected, and for a moment, you were taken aback by the sincerity in his tone. Despite his usual tough exterior, JJ's words were a genuine acknowledgment of your bravery and resilience in the face of danger.

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you met JJ's gaze, a silent understanding passing between you. In that moment, you knew that despite your differences, you shared a bond forged through adversity, a mutual respect for each other's strengths and weaknesses.

"Thanks, JJ," you replied, the gratitude evident in your voice as you returned his smile. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes, a reminder that there was a heart somewhere in JJ Maybank.

Kiara and Pope exchanged confused glances at each other, their brows furrowing in surprise at the unexpected interaction between you and JJ. After all, they were well aware of the tension that had always existed between the two of you, and seeing such a moment of camaraderie was certainly out of the ordinary.

However, recognizing that there were more pressing matters at hand—like celebrating the successful retrieval of the gold—they quickly brushed off their confusion and joined in the jubilant atmosphere that filled the van. With smiles on their faces and laughter in their voices, Kiara and Pope turned their attention back to the group, eager to bask in the shared sense of victory and accomplishment. After all, there would be plenty of time to ponder the nuances of your and JJ's relationship later.

"I say we celebrate tonight, my friends," JJ smirked, his voice filled with a sense of triumph as he reached for the cooler in the back of the van.

With a confident flourish, he cracked open a cold beer, the sound of the tab popping echoing through the vehicle. The sight of the chilled beverages brought a collective sense of anticipation to the group, the promise of a well-deserved celebration sparking excitement in the air.

As JJ passed around the drinks, a sense of camaraderie and camaraderie filled the van, the tension of the day slowly giving way to a shared sense of joy and relief. With each sip, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a feeling of contentment and satisfaction.

Oddly, you couldn't help but find yourself drawn to JJ as he took a swig of his beer, his laughter and banter with Pope filling the van with a sense of camaraderie and warmth. Despite the tension that had always existed between the two of you, in this moment, all of that seemed to fade away, replaced by a shared sense of victory and celebration.

As you watched JJ, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips, a feeling of warmth spreading through you as you observed the pure joy that seemed to exude from him. There was something infectious about his laughter, something that made you feel lighter and happier just being in his presence.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to simply bask in the glow of the moment, soaking in the shared sense of triumph and camaraderie that filled the van. It was a rare moment of peace and contentment, a fleeting glimpse of the bond that connected you and your friends in a way that nothing else could. And as you watched JJ laugh and joke with Pope, a sense of gratitude washed over you. Despite your differences, despite the challenges you had faced, you knew that in the end, you were all in this together.

Eventually, the van rolled to a stop back at the chateau, and with eager anticipation, you and your friends spilled out onto the driveway, shouting with joy and excitement. The adrenaline from the day's events still coursed through your veins, fueling the jubilant atmosphere that surrounded you all.

Following the group, you made your way to the backyard of the chateau, where a jacuzzi awaited. As you watched, JJ wasted no time in stripping off his shirt and kicking off his shoes, revealing his toned physique as he bounded towards the water, his laughter ringing out into the night.

With a sense of freedom and abandon, he leaped into the jacuzzi, his splash sending droplets of water flying into the air. The other boys followed suit, joining him in the bubbling warmth of the water as they laughed and joked together, the stresses of the day melting away with each passing moment.

Your breath hitched as you watched JJ emerge from underneath the water, his hair slicked back and his toned abs glistening with droplets of water. There was something undeniably captivating about the way the moonlight danced across his damp skin, casting him in a soft, ethereal glow.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you found yourself mesmerized by the sight before you. There was an undeniable magnetism to JJ, a raw intensity that drew you in and left you feeling breathless in his presence.

As he flashed you a playful grin, a shiver ran down your spine, sending a rush of heat coursing through your veins. There was no denying the sudden surge of attraction that pulsed between you, the air thick with unspoken tension as you locked eyes with him.

In that moment, you were acutely aware of the electricity that crackled in the air, the unspoken connection that simmered just beneath the surface. It was a fleeting moment, a silent acknowledgment of something unspoken and yet deeply felt.

Shaking off your intrusive thoughts, you made a conscious decision to join in on the fun. With a sense of determination, you stripped off your shirt, revealing just your bra underneath, and with a playful grin, you hopped into the jacuzzi.

The warm water enveloped you as you submerged yourself, the soothing embrace of the bubbles washing away any lingering tension. As you resurfaced, you were greeted with cheers and applause from the boys, their laughter filling the air as they welcomed you into their midst.

The atmosphere was light and carefree, the worries of the day fading into the background as you laughed and joked with your friends. In this moment, surrounded by laughter and friendship, you felt alive, free to be yourself without reservation.

As you lounged in the jacuzzi, the warmth of the water seeping into your skin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. It was moments like these, surrounded by the people you cared about most, that made life worth living.

A hint of shyness flushed over your cheeks as you settled against the side of the jacuzzi, allowing the warm water to envelop you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could feel JJ's gaze on you, and despite your best efforts to ignore it, a tingle of anticipation danced along your skin.

As you relaxed into the water, you couldn't help but steal a glance in JJ's direction, finding him watching you with an intensity that sent a flutter of butterflies through your stomach. There was something undeniably magnetic about the way his eyes seemed to linger on you, a silent invitation that left you feeling both exhilarated and apprehensive.

For a moment, you held his gaze, the unspoken tension between you palpable in the air. It was as if the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you locked in a silent exchange of longing and desire.

But just as quickly as it had begun, the moment passed, and JJ turned his attention back to the group, a playful grin on his lips as he joined in on the laughter and conversation. And as you watched him, a sense of both disappointment and relief washed over you, the intensity of the moment leaving you breathless and uncertain.

You shook your head, dismissing the subtle interaction with JJ, downplaying whatever it might've meant. It was easy to get caught up in the moment, to read too much into fleeting glances and shared smiles. But deep down, you knew better than to read too much into it.

With a self-assured nod, you pushed aside any lingering thoughts and focused instead on the present, allowing yourself to fully immerse in the warmth of the jacuzzi and the laughter of your friends. After all, there was no sense in dwelling on something that may or may not have meant anything.

As the night wore on and the hours passed, you couldn't help but notice that it was getting late. However, your friends seemed too caught up in the revelry to pay much attention to the time. Laughter echoed through the air, and the sound of clinking bottles filled the night.

It was then that you felt your phone buzz with a notification. Pulling it out, you saw a text from Rafe, asking what time you were planning to come over. The reminder of your plans with him caused you to sit up straight, suddenly feeling the weight of the hour.

With a sense of urgency, you dried yourself off, the warmth of the jacuzzi lingering on your skin as you hastily threw on your denim shorts and tank top. Standing up, you announced to your friends that you were heading out.

"C'mon, Y/N, just ditch Rafe for one night," JJ spoke up, his gaze locking directly onto yours as he made his plea. The intensity of his stare sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nervousness in your stomach. There was something in JJ's eyes, a raw emotion that you couldn't quite place, and it left you feeling unsettled and unsure.

For a moment, you found yourself at a loss for words, the weight of JJ's gaze bearing down on you. You could feel the conflicting emotions swirling inside you, torn between the desire to stay with your friends and the obligation to honor your plans with Rafe.

But as you met JJ's unwavering gaze, a sense of resolve washed over you. With a firm shake of your head, you mustered up the courage to speak.

"I appreciate the offer, JJ, but I made plans with Rafe," you replied, your voice steady despite the nerves that threatened to betray you. "I can't just bail on him."

There was a hint of disappointment in JJ's eyes as he nodded in understanding, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Right, I forgot you were a kook," JJ quipped, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm as he shot you a sideways glance. His words stung, a reminder of the underlying tension that had always existed between you.

Disappointment drew over your face, your eyebrows furrowing as you looked at JJ with a hint of sadness in your eyes. "Really, JJ? Can't you just let it go for once?" you said, your voice tinged with frustration and hurt.

Before he could speak up to apologize, you quickly interjected, saying you were going to grab your things. Without waiting for a response, you turned around and headed inside the chateau, leaving JJ to grapple with the weight of his words.

As you disappeared from view, a sense of regret washed over JJ. He hadn't intended to upset you, and yet his thoughtless comment had clearly struck a chord. With a heavy sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, feeling a pang of guilt gnaw at him.

In that moment, JJ realized the impact his words could have and vowed to be more mindful in the future. He knew he needed to make things right with you, to apologize for his insensitivity and to bridge the divide that had formed between you. With a sense of determination, JJ followed after you, resolved to make amends and to show you that he was capable of being better. It was time to set things right and to repair the bond that had been strained by his thoughtless actions.

You stomped into the living room and swiftly picked up your bag off the couch, frustration boiling beneath the surface. As you turned around, ready to make your exit, you were met face-to-face with JJ, his expression a mixture of regret and concern.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension between you thick in the air. You could feel JJ's gaze boring into you, searching for some sign of forgiveness or understanding.

You looked up at JJ, your frown deepening as you met his gaze. "What do you want, JJ?" you asked, your voice tinged with a hint of suspicion.

JJ's expression softened at your question, and he took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. "I just wanted to apologize," he said, his voice earnest. "I didn't mean to upset you back there. It was a dick move." His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. You could see the sincerity in JJ's eyes, the genuine remorse etched on his face, and it gave you pause.

You crossed your arms and tilted your head at him, skepticism evident in your expression. "Is this some kind of joke, JJ? Because you never apologize," you said, your tone edged with disbelief.

JJ's expression faltered for a moment, his usual cocky demeanor replaced by a rare vulnerability. "No, it's not a joke," he replied earnestly, his voice quiet but sincere. "I messed up, and I know it. I just... I don't want things to be weird between us, you know?"

You looked at him, your confusion evident in your expression. "Why do you even care, JJ? What does it matter to you?" you asked, your tone tinged with skepticism.

JJ's gaze faltered for a moment, a sense of vulnerability washing over him as he began to speak. "Look, I know you think that I hate you, but I don't," he admitted, his voice tinged with sincerity. His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were speechless. You had always assumed that JJ harbored some level of animosity towards you, given your past interactions and the tension that often simmered between you.

But as you looked into JJ's eyes, you could see a genuine earnestness that took you by surprise. There was something raw and vulnerable in his expression, a sincerity that you hadn't expected.

"Then why do you act like you do?" you asked, your voice tinged with a mixture of confusion and frustration.

JJ sighed heavily, a lump forming in his throat as he looked up at the ceiling, his words weighed down by the weight of his confession. "Because you're a kook, Y/N," he admitted, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "And that alone makes you unattainable. So, it's easier to act like I hate you than to tell you the truth." His admission hit you like a ton of bricks, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. You had never expected JJ to be so candid about his feelings, and his honesty took you by surprise.

"What truth, JJ?" you asked, your voice soft but insistent, curiosity lacing your words.

JJ's gaze shifted to meet yours, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. "The truth about... about how I feel about you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

His confession caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were speechless. You had never expected JJ to be so forthcoming about his feelings, and his honesty left you feeling both surprised and intrigued.

"The truth about... how you feel about me?" you repeated, trying to process JJ's words.

JJ nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. "Yeah," he replied, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I... I care about you, Y/N. More than I should."

His admission hung in the air between you, the weight of his words sinking in. You could see the sincerity in JJ's eyes, the raw honesty etched on his face, and it left you feeling both touched and unsure of how to respond.

Before you could speak, JJ continued, his words pouring out in a rush. "And I hate how you settle for Rafe," he confessed, his voice tinged with frustration and regret. "You deserve so much better than him, Y/N."

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. You had never expected JJ to be so candid about his feelings, and his honesty left you feeling both surprised and conflicted.

"I... I don't know what to say, JJ," you admitted, your voice filled with uncertainty.

JJ sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know I shouldn't say this," he continued, his gaze fixed on the ground. "But I can't stand seeing you with him, knowing that you deserve someone who treats you right."

His confession hung in the air between you, the weight of his words sinking in. You could see the sincerity in JJ's eyes, the raw emotion etched on his face, and it left you feeling both touched and conflicted.

You went to speak, "JJ, I—" but he cut you off, his expression a mixture of resignation and understanding. "I understand, Y/N," he said softly, his voice tinged with sadness. "I know it doesn't change anything."

You paused, your heart pounding in your chest, and reached out, gently taking JJ's hand as he began to turn away. Looking up at him with pleading eyes, you searched his gaze for the right words, the words that could convey the depth of your feelings.

"JJ, wait," you said softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of regret and longing. "If I would've known... If I would've known how you felt, I would've done something about it."

Your words hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken emotions. You could feel the weight of the moment, the tension crackling in the air as you waited for JJ's response.

JJ's gaze softened as he looked down at you, his eyes searching yours for a long moment. "Y/N..." he started, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.

But before he could say anything else, you felt a surge of courage wash over you. Leaning in closer, you closed the distance between you and pressed your lips against his, a silent plea for understanding and forgiveness.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as JJ's lips met yours, the world falling away around you. And in that moment, you felt a spark of hope flicker to life in your heart, a glimmer of possibility that maybe, just maybe, there was more to your relationship with JJ than you had ever dared to hope.

When you finally pulled away, JJ's expression was a mixture of surprise and confusion, but there was something else there too, something that mirrored the longing in your own heart.

"I... I don't know what to say," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled softly, your hand still intertwined with his. "You don't have to say anything," you replied gently. "Just know that... I care about you, JJ. More than you'll ever know."

With that, you turned and walked away, leaving JJ standing there, his gaze following you as you disappeared from view. And as you made your way out of the chateau, a sense of hope filled your heart, knowing that perhaps there was still a chance for something more between you and JJ.

[penvisions]

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 7}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Summary: A letter, clear words, the work forged by skilled but aching hands, all of it helps you to heal from what had been one of the worst weeks of your life.

Word Count: 13.3k (!!)

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, age gap (reader is early 40's and joel is 57), pining, requited unrequited love, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, mild injuries, confessions, lots of feelings, light angst, hurt and comfort, fighting, two (2) satisfying slaps, joel miller's hands need their own warning, smut, p in v, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), soft joel, pet names (sweetheart), serious conversations, apologies, references to child loss, minor character death, blood, talk of female anatomy, reader has no assigned name but has a commonly used nickname, lemme know if i missed any major ones!

A/N: SURPRISE, Y'ALL!! i was supposed to have internet installed this week but it's been delayed again and my local library is only open today and since queues make me nervous, i threw caution to the wind and yeah - WE MADE IT. this is the final chapter! i am so delighted and humbled by the responses to this fic. i put a lot of myself into olive and for everyone to root for her and cheer her on means so, terribly much to my lil heart. i love y'all and i hope this finds you well ♡

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The hush of cardstock is the only sound in the room as Joel shuffles through the recipes you had written down for him, for him and Ellie. The fancy loops of your cursive are faded, a little blurred in some spots and he regretted your time and devotion getting smudged by his lack of attention. He had been too slow to retrieve all the index cards where they had landed, flying into the air as you had run straight into his back. It had taken so long because Marsha hadn’t seemed to get the hint or his direct words that he was not and would not be with her the way that she wished for him to be.

But she did now. She had been picking Millie up when Joel had all but kicked the door in, shouts of needing help echoing down the street. The woman had flattened herself to the wall, eyes taking in your unconscious form in Joel’s arms. How carefully he maneuvered, how mindful he was to not jostle your body too much, how frantic his expression was even as he tried to explain what he could to the nurse and doctor who sprang forward at the sight. His brows were drawn together, worry evident as he explained to them your stitches from a few days ago had opened, how you had been coughing up blood before he found you. The fear in his strong voice when he detailed how cold you were, how unresponsive. All of it combined was a reflection of his care for you. Something only seen in his interactions with Ellie. And now with you.

Joel had felt pride surge in his chest at seeing the damage you had inflicted on the other woman, guilt flaring just seconds after. You had been pushed to your breaking point, not just by her but by everyone in your life. Evidence of the fight was etched across your body from the scratches from the woman’s nails up and down your arms, the tangled tresses of your loose hair, to the bruises that had blossomed along your soft skin.

The most notable with the tearing of your stitches. The stain of blood on your skin in places he couldn’t wipe it away, for fear of harming you further, even in your unconscious state. It had been three days, and you still hadn’t woken up. Even after the repair to the wound, a better stitch pattern was implemented and two blood transfusions. One from him and one from Tommy.

He hadn’t wanted to leave your side since he brought you in, but he had things he needed to take care of. The few people who interacted with you coming in and checking on you, him coming to spend each evening by your bedside and staying through the night. Maria was across from him now, Macon sound asleep in her arms as the clock ticking on the wall displayed the post sunset hour.

“Marsha will be interrogated at the next town meetings, for her behavior and words towards Olive.”

“Good.” Joel croaked, his voice gravely from disuse.

“Millie will be on next week’s patrol with you, per your request. Once she’s adequately trained, she’ll be added to the rotation.”

“If she takes to being trained. I have a feeling she might pretend to not learn anythin’ just to get out of it.”

“We’ll make sure she doesn’t,” Maria hummed in agreement, knowing more than Joel the small requests and complaints the woman has made in her time behind the walls. “It’s time some of the people who have been idle share the responsibility. Besides, Olive requested to be taken off patrol before. I’m sure she’ll double down on that once she’s recovered.”

“Please tell me she didn’t hate being forced to be my partner when Tommy asked. I don’t think I could ever apologize enough if it was somethin’ she didn’t want to-“

“Joel, she was okay with it, believe me.” Moving to stand, the woman reached to rest a hand on your legs beneath the blankets. “She was glad to feel like she was trusted enough to be asked. She never had any ill feelings toward you, even when she didn’t know you.”

She watches him, he can feel the weight of her stare on him as he continues to go over each of the cards contents. There’s a bag beside him, a small canvas thing he had loaded up with some spare pieces of lumber from bigger projects, scraps that he spent the evening hours whittling and carving as he sits beside you bed. He alternates between doing that and going over the cards, habits to keep him awake as he sits vigil and waits for you to return to him.

“I wasn’t sure what to expect when you came back. But…you surprised me.”

“How so?” He knows he was always a sore and heavy subject between her and his brother. Even more so when he quite literally stumbled onto their doorstep. He had been determined to change, to give back into the second chance at life he had been handed, for Ellie, for his brother– for himself. Aligning himself with the customs and way of life carved out in the plains of Wyoming. He’s glad he hadn’t fallen completely to the depraved, hallowed out version he had adapted to, had been forced to become with the loss of everything he knew, with the loss of his daughter.

“You’ve meshed well with the lifestyle we created here, got onto good terms with one of the best people we have here.”

He didn’t look up from the cards in his hands, he knew that. Deep down, he knew you hadn’t minded patrolling with him. But it was hard to understand with how messed up everything was at the moment and he lost himself to the circling thoughts of how hurt you had looked as you stood your ground with him a few days ago in your kitchen. But his head shot up when a whimper sounded into the air that wasn’t from the woman or his nephew.

You were stirring in the bed, eyes still closed. Hands shaking as they raised to cradle your middle, mind no doubt recalling the circumstances of your last waking moments. Joel’s heartbeat was loud in his chest, echoing in the spot where they had drawn blood from the inside crook of his right elbow. Macon gurgled in Maria’s hold, wide eyes cut towards you as you shifted a little underneath the blankets.

“Joel…” You murmured, eyes clenching shut tightly. You weren’t rousing, you were still unconscious, though your mind seemed to be in working order if you were dreaming. Joel sets down the index cards atop the blankets over you, moving closer to grip a hand with both of his, the other laid out flat to ensure the line of the IV didn’t get tangled or kinked.

“I’m here. It’s okay, you’re okay. ‘m not going anywhere, you hear me? I’m right here, Olive.” He soothed you as best he could, the wrap of your fingers around his stirring his heart to beat faster in his ribcage.

As he’s leaving the morning, a patrol that he would be taking Ellie out on with the approval of the council to begin her training as well, he see’s the shadow of two figures approach your room out of the corner of his eye just as he’s placing a parting kiss on your forehead.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t know anyone would be here this early.” It’s the sister and brother pair you had insisted on bringing back. The woman, Callie Joel thinks her name is, is holding a hand to her swollen stomach protruding out from beneath her long coat. It looks like it wouldn’t fasten with how far along she was. Nolan, the man who had been with you when this whole mess started was a step behind her and a bouquet of dried flowers clenching in his hand.

“It’s okay, was jus’ leavin’.”

“Look, Mr. Miller.” Nolan steps up to him, leaving a few feet of space as Joel turns to head to the door while Callie sidles up to take the chair he had slept in and scoot it close to your unconscious form. “I tried my best to tamp down the fight, but Olive, she’s…she’s a scrappy one. Was on that other girl before I could even blink.”

“Millie. The other one’s name is Millie.”

“Millie did this?” Callie questions from her spot holding your hand in hers, eyes wide. “She’s been so nice to me, I had dinner with her and her mom just last week…”

“Millie ‘n Olive don’t get along too well, bad history.” Joel hopes he isn’t overstepping your privacy by saying so, but if the two were intent on being at least friendly with you, they deserved to know that not everyone was so forward in their interactions with you. “Patrol gone wrong, they both lost someone important to them and Millie didn’t deal with it well.”

“She called her a whore, when she saw us talking.” Nolan explained, “Olive moved first and apologized, but all hell broke loose when Millie hit her back.”

“She what?” Joel felt anger burn hot through his veins, the implication of you being anything other than kind and thoughtful not sitting well with him. No wonder you had snapped, Joel hadn’t found out exactly what had occurred, the council stemming the raging gossip as best they could as soon as it began to spread. Reminding people to deal with personal issues in non-confrontational ways or punishment would be doled out and extra duties would be tacked on.

The two fell quiet, feeling the anger simmering in him. Joel’s face had darkened, brow furrowed deep and his jaw ticking as he tried to get a control on it.

“Y’all have a good day.” He manages before he’s out the door, his steps even and nearly silent as he makes his way out of the infirmary. He’s at Marsha’s in the blink of an eye, fist knocking against the wood of their front door.

“Marsha isn’t home, she’s serving out her punishment by taking over Olive’s morning shifts at the mess hall.” Maria’s voice calls to him as she strolls down the street. Macon is in her arms, but he’s fussing. She stops and places him in the baby carriage in front of her and quiets him with a pacifier. “Millie is out getting the rundown of how patrol works and what her responsibilities are.”

“Did you know that Millie called-“

“Yes. It’s been dealt with.” Maria’s voice implied she didn’t agree with what happened, that it was indeed being considered with much thought, not taken lightly with how it built up to the point of combustion in the town’s center on one of the busiest nights.

“Easy now, honey, there you go.” Tommy’s soothing voice allowed for you to feel less embarrassed about how slow moving you were, how long it was taking to trek from the infirmary to your house. His arm was around your waist, his other in front of him as he held onto your right hand for added support. “Joel will probably be knocking on your door the second he gets back from patrol and finds you gone from the clinic.”

“He can knock all he wants.” You huffed out, not too sure how you were feeling toward the man at the moment. Once you had woken up, the nurses told you he hadn’t left your side during the nights you had been there. Tommy and Maria sharing with you the way he had been frantic to find you the second he had found out about your fight with Millie. The decision of you no longer wanting to do patrol being portrayed as a punishment for your violent outburst. But the council held no real ill will toward you, having addressed the behavior you faced from more than a few of the townspeople.

“Marsha is due to cover your shifts at the mess hall, the early ones. Until you’re ready to go back.”

“Dunno, think she needs more ‘n a week or two tackling that hectic shift.”

“There’s my girl,” Tommy beamed, glad to know you weren’t too injured to show the side of yourself he knew.

As you turned down your street, Tommy let go of you at your insistence to try and support yourself. After a few stumbling steps, you managed to find your balance, even if your pace was still on the slow side.

“Joel ‘n I fixed your door. Well, we made a new one, actually. Old man did some damage to the other one when his big bulky frame was pushed into it by those storm winds,” He chuckled, most likely picturing the ordeal that was far more tense and serious than a mishap on Joel’s part. It had been…one of the hardest things you had to do, stand your ground and deny the man you had come to care. Especially in the face of him practically confessing to you that he shared in your feelings. “Cranked the heat up to get it back to the temperature you prefer. Even watered the plants for you, fed that stray that comes around sometimes. I think it found the crate you set up for it on your back porch.”

“You’re too sweet, Tommy. Thank you.” You watched as he unlocked the door and for the first time since leaving the infirmary you noticed how he was constantly shifting. His weight from foot to foot, his hands raking through his long, dark curls.

He helped you up the few steps of your stoop, his hands a gentle weight, arms ready to tense and catch you should you lose your balance. Once you were settled in your bed, a bottle of pain killers and a glass of water on your bedside, the man tentatively settled on the foot of your bed.

“I wanted to apologize, formally.” He started, brown eyes glittering in the midafternoon sunlight filtering in through the blinds. You leaned up from the pillows propped up behind your back and up against the fabric headboard, about to say something but he held up a wide palm to stop you. “You told me ‘n Maria in passing the behavior people have toward you. It was out of our control, freedom of speech ‘n all but…we should’ve at least tried to tamp it down more than we did.”

“Tommy, everyone has already done so much in letting me in, giving me a chance. I did-didn’t want to stir any trouble and it wasn’t real-really anything I couldn’t handle.”

“Honey…” He stands up and nestles himself between you and the edge of the bed, his back on the headboard right next to you. He brings you into his chest and kisses into the crown of your head as you return the embrace. something he hadn’t done since you appeared back at Jackson’s gates with blood covering you head to toe and the corpse of your friend draped over the back of your horse. “You deserve to feel comfortable, to feel safe. No matter what.”

The next morning, after a night spent tossing and turning, you shuffled down the hallway and into the kitchen without turning on a light. It was still dark out, using what little of the streetlight so close to the front of your house filtered in through the sheer curtains. When you sat at the kitchen table, you tried to set your mug down but there was a clatter as the bottom of it collided with something already resting there. And the space next to it, it seemed the whole table was covered in stuff, leaving no room for you to set it. Mumbling about people being in your house and rearranging your stuff, you shuffled over to the lamp atop the storage hutch’s middle shelf.

But you’re shocked when you flick the light on and turn back around to the table. It’s…covered. Every inch of the surface taken up by small stacks of what looks like intricately carved plates, serving trays, spoons, spatulas, and small figures that look like birds moving in a downward swoop. The coffee still in your hand splashes a little to the tile beneath your bare feet, starting you as it bounces up to kiss the skin of your ankles. But you pay it no mind as you absently set it on the hutch beside the light and move to the table with watering eyes.

It had to have been him. Joel.

The plates are beautiful, vaguely floral shaped and stained such a deep mahogany. They’re not too heavy, though they are very sturdy in your inspecting hands. Turning each one from the three separate stacks of them, each a different size from dessert to salad to serving plates, reveal a small J.M branded into the wood. Each of the leaf shaped serving trays reveal the same, though they are heavier and a bit harder for you to turn over in your weakened state. Large smoothed edged bowls are nestled in each other, the topmost one holding matching large serving spoons made your heart lurch and your stomach swoop.

The carving had been lovingly attended to because each rivet and swirl, each boarder and flat surface, it was all so seamlessly smooth. On evert single piece littering your table.

Tears are trailing down your cheeks to rest atop his intricate creations. The sight of two sets of spoons and two sets of spatulas held together with twine making you have to clap a hand over your mouth as a sob wracks through your body. The memory of hurling the ones you had requested from him flashing too bright and loud. You had taken something crafted by him and thrown in across this very kitchen, disrespecting the time and attention he had devoted to the request you had made.

Collapsing into the chair, you let the emotions of the last week take over you. Your coffee is lukewarm when you rise to retrieve it, but you twirl a carved bird in your hand as you sip from it, tears waned for the moment. That’s when you spot the large, flattened pieces on the other side of the table.

Cutting boards, three of them. Each one with a branding on the thick sides to label them individually for herbs, vegetables, and meat. The entire surface of each it sealed with a coating, but beneath it on the corners are floral patterns that you squint your eyes to take a closer look at. Gasping, you realize he had depicted the blooms often found on olive trees. His voice suddenly rings in your head as your mind recalls something you weren’t even conscious for but had filed away.

‘I made you one…I made them all for you. All of them, every single one….C’mon, sweetheart. You gotta let me save you so you’ll have one. I’ll give you anything, I’ll give you everything. Olive, please.’

‘I’m here. It’s okay, you’re okay. ‘m not going anywhere, you hear me? I’m right here, Olive.’

The tears flow, with no end in sight as you reach a shaking hand for the note you see laying atop the largest one.

‘Olive, I know I’m shit with words, I know I’ve sent such mixed signals with everything. But I want you to know, need you to know that seeing you is the best part of my day, of every day. Even if it’s just across the mess hall, across the street, as I walk home from patrol and see you in the window of your kitchen with a soft smile. The talks we have, the questions we share, every single word we’ve exchanged as made me feel worthy of the things you think of me, for the first time in a long while.

You are such an extraordinary, kind, thoughtful person and I am so lucky to have made it here to Jackson to cross paths with you. I can’t change what happened, but each hitch of your breath, each tug of the brim of your hat over your eyes, each moment spent with you makes me want to wrap you up in my arms and keep you close. I don’t want the first time you hear the words from me to be in writing, but, Olive. I fear I’ve fallen for you, and it’s made me such a fool. Please take these gifts for what they are, a representation of how I think of you every second of every day. Of how you inspire me to be a better person. Of how much love I have for you. J.M.’

Your coffee goes completely cold as you sit at the table, reading the note over and over again.

The gentle knock on your door kickstarted your heart, fluttering hard in your chest as you knew who was on the other side of the repaired wood. You turned the burner off on the stove top, shifting it to rest atop one of the cooler ones. You called for the man who held your heart to ‘wait a second, please’ before you turned to the table and reached for one of the serving bowls, spooning out the steamed contents of the pan into it and placed it back among the others already atop the table. The table was full, dishes coloring the spread laid out across the table. The rest of his gifts had been carefully places in the hutch along the back wall, some of them displayed behind the glass of the topmost part.

Toasted sandwiches cut into triangles rested atop one of the leaf serving trays, the one you had just filled up with three different types of steamed and roasted vegetables. A glass pitcher of fresh juice you pressed earlier a deep red and shining in the flames from candles interspersed between the trays and plates. You nervously ran your hands down the front of your apron, a worn but loved patterned thing that wrapped around the back of your neck and at the back of your waist.

The brownies looked a little thick, now that you took a second to consider them. A rich buttercream piped into a swirling tower amid them stacked up on one of the larger flower plates. The midsize ones set in front of two chairs with empty glasses and clean utensils beside them. All set up, all waiting.

For him, for Joel.

Moving to the door, you paused and took a deep breath to calm yourself, the titter of shyness you weren’t sure you would ever overcome when it came to the man on the other side. Reaching for the lock, you clicked it out of its setting and twisted the handle to open the door.

Joel was stood there, silhouetted against the bright winter sun, the broadness of his shoulders and the volume of his curls on display so close for you. His head had been hanging, one hand on the wall beside the door. And when he looked up to catch your eyes, your breath hitched and you felt your fingers twitch at the urge to pull him close. To let him make his written words a reality and cradle you in his arms.

“I-I got your no-note. And the – the things you left f-for me.”

“Did you,” He cleared his throat, hand moving from where it was supporting him to fall to his side, clenching and unclenching in that own nervous habit he had. His eyes roved up and down your body, taking the image you were making in your doorway. You felt like you looked okay, but your hair was a little frizzed out from the heat of cooking. And you were so, incredibly self-conscious. He was such a handsome man, and you were…just you. His voice was shaky, something you couldn’t ever recall hearing from someone normally so controlled. “Did you…like everythin’ alright?”

“It’s all so perfect. Th-thank you.” You smoothed your hands down the front of the apron again, nervous and unsure of how to approach him even as your body hummed in anticipation from the thought of it. He loved you. And you loved him back.

“And the- the note?”

“Y-yeah.” You couldn’t bring your eyes up to meet his, too self-conscious with how all uncharted everything seemed to be.

“I’m so fucking sorry. I-“ He surged forward through the open door, but his boots scuffed as he cut the movement short. You had unconsciously stepped back, nerves alight from the last time you had been approached. Muscles twitching, your arms tingled with the way you tried to relax from the sudden tension that had flooded your entire body. Fight or flight activated. You could see the way his throat bobbed with the nervous swallow he took before sighing out a deep breath. “Olive, I swear to you, I- you’re so good. The sweetest, prettiest thing I’ve had the pleasure of knowing in my time and if you’ll let me, I’ll be a good man for you. I’ll be a good man with you.”  

“Joel, I-“ Your words choked off into a sob, tears trialing hot down your cheeks as your emotions spiked and cascaded over you. Hands trembling as you did reach out for him, fingers wrapping around the unzipped edges of his thick jacket. He moved into you, his own hands coming up to cradle your cheeks as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m right here, I’m with you. Not goin’ anywhere unless you want me to, okay?” He holds you, letting you bury your tear-stained face into his neck. The flow of them still falling from your eyes dampening the fabric of his flannel.

“D-do you want some lunch?” A shy smile pulled at your lips, heat blooming in your chest even as the tears continue to fall.

He seems to release all of the tension in his shoulders as he sighs out something relieved. You can tell he’s a little confused by the question, but he wasn’t going to turn it down. The opportunity to spend time with you, to talk to you. He had come here, after all, not even knowing where you two stood after everything. Fresh from a patrol, you could smell the lingering scent of hay from the stables on him. The leather from his gloves sliding along and holding the reigns of his horse. Nodding, you finally manage to meet his eyes and your breath hitches even as a pang of worry echoes in your chest.

“H-how was patrol?” You wait for him to take a seat before you go to pick up the pitcher and pour him some of the juice you had made. His hands are a soft hush over yours as he takes it from you and pours himself a glass before reaching for your own empty one with a lopsided smile.

“It was good, took Ellie out for her first one. She’s been buggin’ me about it since the start of winter.”

“Is she going to be my replacement? I don’t want her to feel like she has to if she’s not ready.” His eyes move over your face as you spoon steaming vegetables onto his plate and then yours.

“Maria agreed with me that Millie should be trained up, she’s starting with me next week. It’s part of her punishment for instigating the fight.”

“Oh.” Another thing for the woman and her mother to hold against you. You worried for a second of how much damage you had done to her in your near fugue state but then realized if she was okay enough to start patrol then she was far better off than you happened to be.

“We don’t have to talk about that or we- we can, if you want to. Just…just want to talk with you. About anything.” About anythin’, about nothin’.”

The conversation isn’t much from then on, but it’s enough to hold his attention. You’re tired, so incredibly tired and lethargic from the emotional morning you had, from putting all the food spread over the table together, not much of it left after Joel devours a lot of it. Starvin’ he had said through a bite, pink tinging his ears as you offered to make another sandwich for him. He had assured you everything you had made was enough and now a half pot of coffee sits in mugs in front of you each, brownies bitten into after dipping it in the frosting you had made.

As soon as his two were swallowed, he turned beseeching, wide eyes to you and you found moving to stand between his legs. His arms were so warm around you, the food and his company weighing you down in the best way as you wrap your own around his neck. His face is buried in your chest while you press a kiss to his steel curls, something that worries you for a split second before he sighs out a small ‘you’re so soft, sweetheart’.

“I-I want to talk more, but,” Your weight sagged against him, his arms tightening around you to help keep you on your feet. “I’m so tired, Joel. I think I need to lay down.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I understand, lemme just- I’ll clean up lunch and get out of your hair, go on and rest.” But you didn’t move, your breath hitching as you leaned back enough to peer up at him. Your eyes surely gave away how drained you were, but you weren’t quite yet ready to let him go. Even if things were a little stilted and there was so much to discuss. Right now you just wanted to lay down, to get off your feet and relieve some of the tension on your stitches.

“W-will you stay?”

“Of course.”

He follows silently behind you, boots thudding on the hardwood flooring of the hallway. Each step matching the beating of your heart. Through the door and into your room, you realize he must’ve already been in here, it was so tidy and the laundry that had piled up was neatly folded atop your dresser.

If he’s just as nervous as you are, he doesn’t show it. Seemingly taking things as they come, letting you shrug him from the flannel you had unbuttoned. When you move your hands to the buckle of his belt, one of his large hands covers both of yours. Looking up, you reassure him nothing has to happen and that you aren’t ready for anything to happen but you don’t want the denim on your clean sheets. He nods, letting you continue to disrobe him. A shaky laugh falls from his plush lips as you notice the line of him through his boxer briefs, it twitches under your quick glance, and you feel a swoop in your own stomach in response.

He asks if you need to change to, offering to turn around. But you grip his wrists and bring his hands to the ties at the side. It’s a loose thing, to help you manage to move around better, the prospect of pants and a belt too daunting despite the season. He carefully lifts the fabric from your body, his eyes on your face the entire time, even as the clothing falls to pile on top of his. With a nervous giggle, you lead him to the bed and you both get comfortable underneath the covers. It’s early, not even the sun has set, but neither of you seem to mind the time.

He's settled against the pillows when you reach out a hand on your normal side of the bed, fingers tangling with his as you lay slightly on your side toward him. The bandages around your middle are obvious underneath the camisole you wear with your underwear. He’s facing you too, his other hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I…I want to.” Your words are barely above a whisper, as you take in the image he creates beside you, filling the empty part of your bed with his broad frame. His steel curls flattened on the pillow, his warmth only a few inches away, his eyes soft and watching you as you collect the words from your mind to fill your tongue. It had been something you yearned for since that first brush of his hand against yours, that first smile you managed to pull from him with an offhand comment, from the first moment he asked you a question in return to one of your own. Even if someone else had shown you the same kindness, his would be the one you sought after. “Be with you.”

“I want that too, sweetheart, more’n anything, but…I hurt you. I know that, I was careless in my attempts to be careful, to not push you. To…surprise you with what I wanted to be the first thing I gifted you.”

“Tommy told me. You know I thought some kids stole that piece of the trunk?” Your eyes glitter with a hint of mirth, teasing tone light and reminiscent of times past. It’s fleeting, the bone deep exhaustion settled in your body not only physical but mental. “I…Joel, I worry about…everything. All the time. You deserve to the chance to thrive here, for Ellie to thrive here and…being with me would-“

“I’d choose you over the town any day, you’ve gotta know that. Me and Ellie, we’ve been through a lot but we’re tough, you don’t gotta worry about us. I know…that people see her lack of manners and anxious tendencies as something that needs to be fixed. Maybe, yeah, the little troublemaker could stand to hold her tongue sometimes but she’s so young, she’s got a lot to unlearn from being raised the way she was. She’s a good kid, she’s good but you are too. We’ll take it slow, because I haven’t done this dance in while, hell, ever really. And I want to do it right, I want to be what you want because I definitely know you don’t need me.”

“I haven’t needed for anything in a long time, but Joel Miller believe me when I saw my days are better when they’re spent with you. Even…even the bad ones to an extent.”

“I’ll apologize a thousand times.” He tightens his grip, tired eyes trained on them. There’s a sadness to them, the depths of which he had let you glimpse once before. Loss, pain, devastation in the wake of when the world has broken and then turned into. You share in that sadness, having lost the person you had devoted your life to protecting, having lost the life you had just begun to flourish in before it was ripped from your hands, having lost a child that you could still hear crying in your sleep some nights…

The words are on the tip of your tongue, the need for comfort from the one person you wanted it from, needed it from. It was true that you had been complacent before him, not concerned with the things people felt the need to pursue in the lives they felt safe enough to pursue here in the town. That he stroked yearning in the very core of who you were, something you hadn’t ever experienced even back when the world was thriving and bustling as it once had been.

“Can we j-just kiss a-and start to move for-forward?”  

“Sweetheart, I don’t think I exactly deserve that right now…” Your face falls. The small, shy smile dipping and the sides of your mouth dropping into a frown as you feel the burn of tears prickle again behind your cheeks. The rejection hurts, even if you understand why he feels that way and agree with him to an extent that this situation isn’t going to magically fix itself.

“But I do.”

He doesn’t even think to argue, not with the way that he’s leaning close to touch his soft lips to yours as soon as the words leave them.

“I’ve gotta get goin’, sweetheart.” Joel’s whisper roused you, so close you reached for him. Long fingers curling around his wrist, nails lightly scratching the soft skin there. He felt the cumulation of inching out of bed slowly and quietly to not wake you as the vain attempt it was. He should’ve known his efforts would be fruitless, his resolve chipping away to nothing when you breathed his name out on a sleepy sigh. “I got training patrol. Be back early this afternoon, bring you something from the mess hall, alright sweetheart?”

You only hummed in response, lips pressed against his wrist now, sending tingling trickles of sensation all over his body at the easy way in which you displayed your affection for him now. It had been a couple of weeks. Two weeks of you making dinner one night, then walking him through another the next day. Of coffee in the mornings when he wasn’t busy, the never-ending list housed on the spiral notepad in his back pocket present in only the worn fabric over his pockets, the actual thing mysteriously gone. A break for the season, he has said when you asked him, palming the fabric of his back pockets one day.

As you lay in bed, dozing back off in the wake of his departure, Joel is outside the gates with a nervous Millie astride a horse beside him. They stop on as Joel figures an open field a few miles away would be the best bet for practice. Far enough for the sound of gunfire to not echo back and alarm people but close enough to rush back should something go awry.

“Know anythin’ about guns?” He looks over to the younger woman, her eyes wide and her head on a swivel as she constantly takes in her surrounds. He feels a little bad that she’s so on edge, but the only way to make her more comfortable is to get her out more and more. Allow her to see that it doesn’t have to be all bad. But he does understand her reaction, she’s never been outside the walls, had never been outside the town that it was before the walls went up. She had been younger than you when the world shattered, had people to look after her and care for her.

“My daddy taught me how to shoot them when the world fell apart. But that was…a long time ago now.”

“Okay, well, we’re gonna see what suits you better. On patrol we use shotguns, but a handgun will do in a pinch. The key is range, keeping any threat as far away as possible.”

“Yes, Mr. Miller.” She watches him closely as he removes the shotgun slung around his back. He checks that the safety is secured and he holds it out to her as she moves to stand beside him at the beckoning of his hand. He walks her through the general mechanics of the gun, firm in her not placing her finger on the trigger until she was ready to shoot.

“Are you right or left handed?”

“Um…I favor my left.” He hands off the gun to her, telling her to practice her grip on the large gun while he rummages in one of the packs attached to his saddle. He’s got a cloth bag that he fills with snow and ice that coats the ground, propping it up a good distance away on top of a long dead tree stump.

Time passes and her aim gets a little better, though she’s taking too long to line up her shots. Joel reminds her to just take a breath in and shoot as she exhales. But the words cut off as he sees movement on the horizon of their spot on in the field. He’s off a ways from her, by the target he had set up for the woman to practice on. He’s turned to hold a halting hand up to her before he takes his own gun out from the holster and puts one of them down.

Another sprints from the cover of the forest nearby, but he’s focused on taking down the other two far too close for comfort. Just as he turns to take out the one closing in on him, it lunges and he’s struggling not to fall with the sudden weight slamming into him. His gun goes flying and he curses out as he tries to fend it off with his arms, the snapping of its mangled teeth loud and far too close to his face.

He wishes he had spent a few more minutes with you in bed, pressing his lips to your forehead to your cheek, to your plush lips, to any part of your body he could as the bullet ripped through him and pain sparked hot across his entire chest. Through it, he manages throw the stunned thing to the ground, another shot flying from across the field to land directly in the back its head. Joel is looking up as he bends down to retrieve his gun, his other hand pressing hard to the burning in his shoulder. Millie is too focused on him to see the blur running toward her, too late in her shifting attention as it grips her shoulder tights. Taking a deep breath, Joel tries to focus as best he can to line up his aim and take out the single Infected that remained.

He shoots and it goes down.

His shoulder throbs and his vision darkens at the edges.

“Joel!” You shout, simmering panic making you forget common manners as you burst through the door leading into the main exam room of the infirmary. There are three beds lined up on the opposite wall, other rooms set up for more serious cases that required overnight stays. Millie and Joel are settled into two of them, the younger trembling and holding her right shoulder while Joel is pressing a kerchief to his front, blood soaking it through.

Marsha is already plastered to the side of her daughter’s bed. Making no noise whatsoever, which was just as uncomforting as you realized how pale she they both were. Blood splattered over Joel while Millie looked relatively unharmed.

Millie launches into a jumble of words as she gets up from the bed, but you stop her in your tracks with a chilling look over your shoulder as you go immediately to Joel’s side.

“You need to back the fuck up, Millie. I told you I’m not engaging with you anymore, now go back to your own bed and mind your business.”

Turning from them, your eyes land on Joel and he’s barely able to keep his eyes open as he lays across the bed. Your heart stutters, as does your voice the closer you get to him.

“You two are just perfect for each other with your penchant for harsh words.” Jealousy was ugly on the older woman, making her act out towards you but more concerningly towards Joel. He hadn’t done anything wrong, even in the moments he had let his anger flare around her and he scolded her for her manipulation and childish behavior. He had told you all about it, about every interaction between them to tide your hurt feelings and assumptions about them. He hadn’t needed to do it, but he had wanted to be completely transparent. To share with you the things he experienced.

“And you would be just perfect for recognizing harsh words, wouldn’t you?” You fire back, not even bothering to look over your shoulder at the woman who had caused so much grief and anxiety. Your words seem to stun her, as she doesn’t rebuff you in anyway, but you feel guilt flash at the kneejerk reaction, still so worried about upsetting anyone or instigating anything remotely unfriendly. But Joel was bleeding and it you were far more worried about him at the moment.

“What ha-hap-happened? That’s so mu-much blood!”.”  You ask him quietly, concerned with how his unseen injuries could be affecting him. His fingers twitch, letting you know he was trying to reach out for you. You sidle up beside him, hands reaching for his left as your wide eyes take in the expanse of his naked chest. The nurse has on pink stained white. One of the nurses bursts through the open door, ignoring the tension in the room, quickly getting to work with the tray of equipment she brought in. Her pristine gloves immediately take on a pink stain, blood gushing over his front as she digs a pair of long tweezers into a large bullet hole. She exposes in his right shoulder once she peels back the collar of his jacket and cuts away the tattered collar of his undershirt. “J-Joel, did you g-get ambushed by In-Infected? Or was it peop-people?”

“Was an accident.” He grunts out, hand tightening over yours as the nurse works to stall the bleeding.

“Millie sh-shot you?” You feel ire bubble up ugly and thick, heart beating hard at the thought of Joel out there with no protection other than the person in question, the person who had no idea how to begin to fend for herself or an injured person beyond the walls. She had been so young when the world broke, a few years younger than Aiden had been when you took him as your responsibility, his parents being the first to turn in the restaurant.

“Oh, would you shut up with that god-awful stuttering? Grown woman can’t even speak properly in a moment of crisis.”

“Mother!”

“Making a bad situation worse by simply being here, why don’t you let the nurse take care of him and just leave?”

“Mother, enough! That is no way to talk to Olive, she puts her life on the line every time she goes out beyond the walls. She and Mr. Miller have helped to make this a safe place, you should show her respect and leave her be!”

“Millie Antoinette, that is no way to speak to me.”

“You’re going to lecture me on language with the way you’ve been slinging backhanded insults about Olive all these years? Blaming her for something completely out of her control, berating her for her stutter when you know she can’t help it because the whole town makes her feel like she’s walking on eggshells.”

“This conversation is not over, we will continue this at home.”

Finally turning to look over your shoulder at the way she began to take out her frustrations on Millie, your eyes were set hard and your displeasure was obvious as you took in the way Millie’s good arm was being held far too tightly by the woman.

“Why do-don’t you just keep my na-name out of any future conversations you may have. You’ve caused enough damage, your own daughter paying for your actions and getting injured because of it. Joel getting injured because of it. No one is to blame but you and the influence you’ve lorded over her all these years. Twisting and tainting the memory of the man she loved, the man I devoted my life to protecting and ensuring he got to live a somewhat normal one after the world fell apart. He wouldn’t have wanted her to harbor such ill feelings toward me, toward what happened. But you turned it into something to use against me and you hurt her worst of all, teaching her it was okay to behave like such a child!” Your

You’re breathing heavy by the end of your outburst, finding your voice after stuttering through the first words. Unconsciously reaching for and tightening the hold on Joel’s hand through the entire exchange. He squeezes it in reassurance, through the nurse’s ministrations.

“You tell ‘er.” Joel slurs as the nurse secured a large patch of gauze over his would, betadine staining the edges of the material. The action of pressing down the tape around the corners making him hiss out a pained breath and your attention focuses on him once again.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, you ungrateful little-“ You could feel her approach you from behind and you let go of Joel’s hand, not wanting to jostle him should she push or shove you. She was about your height so when you swung your hand out, your palm landed right on her cheek with enough force to turn her head as the sharp slap echoed around the room.

Red blossomed bright on her skin. Her fingers twitched and you landed another hit without thinking before she could make a more intentional move.

“I know you were not about to touch me,” The feeling of your lip lifting up in a slight snarl was unpleasant, but you couldn’t help the visceral reaction to the woman after everything she had done.

Even in the wake of trying to be polite and cordial with her when you thought her and Joel were a thing, she had shown you thinly veiled niceness in return. Her eyes always watching, much like a hawk stalking its prey. But you wouldn’t be her prey any longer, unwilling to play the part she had bestowed upon you for no good reason. You weren’t a malicious person, you weren’t a violent person. Not anymore. You were kind and thoughtful and did everything you could to be nice and help out where you were needed or wanted, and you would not put up with the woman any longer.

She raised her hand up once the shock of your quick movement wore off and you used the back of your forearm to knock it down, your hand sliding down her arm to capture her wrist in your grip. Her widened eyes found yours and you hoped, fleetingly, that she was unnerved. She cried out when her wrist began to smart underneath the force of your grip, trying to pull it from you but you didn’t budge. She was a fool to think using her free hand to pry at the fingers you had wrapped around her to no avail. You saw the thought for her to raise it at you flash across her face before you felt Joel’s hand gently pull at the back of your sweater.

“That’s enough, Marsha.” Maria’s voice was harsh, cutting into the scene suddenly. “Seeing as your daughter is in good hands, let’s have a little chat.”

The woman’s harsh expression, the twist of her mouth about to shape around a degrading insult, the furrow of her brow as she focused on you, it all fell away the second she realized she had an audience.

The nurse tending to Joel moved silently from Joel’s bedside to Millie’s as you released Marsha from your hold to follow behind Maria.

“Olive, I am so sorry. For everything. You’re right, Aiden wouldn’t have wanted any of this. I-I feel so…badly for how I’ve ignored you all these years when I should’ve been there to comfort you. You lost him too.” Millie cries as the nurse tends to her bruised and swollen shoulder, there now that Joel is taken care of. There was a large bruise marring her skin that was around angry looking welts, scratches that looked like they hadn’t broken the skin, no doubt from whatever occurred outside the walls. You tried focus on her, but it was hard with the adrenaline of confronting Marha thumping harshly through your entire body, Joel could surely feel the trembles where he held onto you.

“We were practicing shootin’ and a group of five or six of ‘em came outta the trees.”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you began to peel back his opened flannel and shoved up the shirt he had on underneath. Hands frantic as you felt all around his body for signs of a bite. When you brushed against his groin to move down to his legs to check underneath the denim, you noticed he had fallen quiet. Looking up at him from where you were inspecting his shins, you clocked the way he rested the inside of his wrist over his zipper and belt buckle. His face was tinged a little pink at his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

“You could’ve led with that!”

“I’m okay, sweetheart. Millie shot the one that almost got me, but the first shot missed and then she took it down. She didn’t see the one comin’ up behind her cause she was so focused on helpin’ me.”

“Just lay back,” You croon sweetly, gently pushing the bulk of him to sit atop the bed.

“Yes, ma’am.” Joel groans, adjusting his hips as he scoots up to lean against the plush headboard.

It’s soft everywhere in your room, from the fabric of the headboard to your sheets and covers, to the dried flowers and sheer curtains hanging over the windows. He feels swaddled in the best way, completely wrapped up in the little world you’ve created in your space. The mix of him seen interspersed between your many books lining new shelves he crafted for you to replace the old, creaking ones worn down over time. A carved serving plate he had made for you, atop your bedside table and housing a tube of hand lotion, a note left from him the other day when he had to leave in the early hours. One of his flannels hanging up from a set of floral hooks he had made to go on the back of your door.

He was just a present influence in your home as you were in his. From the multiple bottles of oil scattered about his stove top, to the leftovers clearly labeled and stored in his fridge, to the pair of underwear that had ended up nestled with his in the top drawer of his dresser. The very ones you wore underneath his shirts when you slept over in his bed, making the sheets smell a heady combination of you both that had him seeing you in his dreams even more.

It had been a slow dance of homemade dinners, of nights spent in each other’s bed, of searing kisses and soft words shared between you both over the last two months. Both healed from the events that had allowed for the confusing and heartbreaking one to shift to this one, where it was obvious you both wanted each other, both had so much adoration for each other. But you were still so shy around Joel,  never letting things go further than wandering hands sneaking beneath clothing.

But tonight, you were feeling so encompassed by the need to see him, to touch him, to be seen and touched by him in return. Tommy had let slip it was your birthday tomorrow when he asked if you were still coming around his and Maria’s for dinner. Joel had been confused why you hadn’t shared that with him, you knew when his birthday was after all. And everything that came tangled with the date.

“Joel,” You whispered against his lips, having moved to hover over his lap with your arms atop his shoulders. His hair had grown long, the thick locks brushed back by his large hands to swoop into gorgeous curls behind his ears and over the back of his neck. Nearly brushing the tops of his broad shoulders, he groaned out as you toyed with the ends of the long locks now. Nervous energy made it hard to keep your hands still and you confessed quietly as you ran your fingers through the curls. “I…I need to tell you something before we- before we, um, do this.”

“What is it, sweetheart?” His eyes blink open, concern and worry glinting in them as he takes in the way you’re worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. “We don’t have to do nothin’ if you don’t want to or aren’t ready. Just wanna be with you, no matter what.”

You start and stutter a few times, the words trailing off as your emotions spike and memories find their way to the surface. But it was the right thing to do, to share this part of your past with him. The potential for the mood to be ruined all to glaring as you realized it would be one of the heavier things you shared with the man who had become you partner in every definition of the word.

“Joel, I…I don’t have, um, I don’t have all my…parts.” Waving a hand over your lower stomach, right where you rested over his own. His confusion was obvious as he focused on the part of your body in question, his plush lips parting as he contemplated how to better ask for clarification. But you leaned back a little, your thighs tightened around his hips as you did so to pick up the hem of your camisole and unbutton the jeans you were still dressed in. A faded but thick scar ran from the bottom of your belly button, swooping below it in an imitation of a smile and then down in a straight line from the middle to disappear beneath the band of your underwear. It was completely healed, but still pink in discoloration.

“The doctors at the QZ we briefly stayed at in the beginning of everything…they did a hysterectomy after I had my…son.”

“Olive…” His hands raise from where they were around your hips, shaking slightly as he pauses in his reach to caress the marred skin. His eyes flash up to meet yours in a silent question for consent and at a small nod, he brushes the knuckle of his index finger over it. Shuddering at the soft touch, you watch the way emotions flit across his weathered face.

“They weren’t nice about it, I still…I still have pretty vivid nightmares about it because there was very little anesthesia, something about rationing the drugs and it…it was one of the most painful things I’ve had to endure. But…I thought you-you should know because I know you have some years on me, and you said you don’t think…an accident would happen and you seemed genuinely concerned because of my age. But it wo-won’t because of this.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel presses the palm of his right hand over the scar, the warmth of his skin soothing just as much as the kiss he placed on your cheek. “You’re…you’re okay though?”

“As okay as I can be about it,” You consoled his worry, breath hitching as he gently caressed the skin beneath his hand. “I waited until I was healed a year, when the threat of infection was long gone, then I took Aiden and…and Ezra and I got us the hell out of there.”

He didn’t ask how you lost Ezra, he didn’t berate you for your choice to leave the QZ, he didn’t ask how you had even ended up in that situation in the first place. He didn’t do anything but slowly move to where your back was on the bed, and he was hovering over you. Soft kisses and the brush of his mustache trailing over every inch of skin he could see. His fingers slid beneath the thin straps of your top in a silent question, and you sat up enough to allow him to life the garment from your body. Willing to show yourself to him, to take the offer of his soothing comfort. His breath puffed out at the sight of your naked chest, his fingers skimming up to brush against the supple skin and hardened peaks now on full display.

He clocks the way your fingers move to the buttons of his flannel and fumble, prompting him to take over for you to push it off his own shoulders, his undershirt disappearing along with it to the floorboards. But before you can move onto his belt, he’s gently pressing you back to the bed and pressing the plush softness of his lips to your body, trailing lower and lower until he brushes them so lightly over your scar.

Your breath hitches and you can feel the small smile as he takes his time to worship your body. To sooth the emotions he must know it took to confess something so big, to engage with him in this way even if you wanted to. Mind’s always tickin’ he would tease, no heat behind his words, but adoration.  

Fingers skimming over soft skin, the callouses of time and skill a heady sensation over it ahead of his lips, he slowly shimmies the undone fabric of your jeans down your legs. He takes the time to undo and step out of his own pair before he’s back on the bed, attention focused on your legs as he begins to move up, up, up. Only giving you the barest of chances to take in the thick line of his hard cock as it twitches beneath dark fabric.

His fingers slide underneath the waistband of your underwear from where his palms rest wide on your upper thighs, his mouth suckling the plush skin before him. His lips feel like heaven, like finally stepping through your front door after a long shift, like a hot bath after a long day, like a breath of fresh air after being in a stuffy room. It feels like home. Startling slightly at the sudden press of his nose to your clothed core, you feel more than hear the rumble of his chuckle.

“This okay, not too much?”

“Not too much,” you assure, lifting your hips to allow him to drag the fabric down. Heat blooms in your chest, worry for not being as pretty as someone else or as groomed as you used to be. But all of your anxieties and insecurities fade away as you look down and see the way his eyes are trained on your glistening cunt. He groans out as he drags the beck of a knuckle over your puffy outer lips, reveling in the jerk of your hips at the light contact.

“’s pretty, sweetheart. So perfect.” Is all the warning he gives you before he’s spreading you open with both of his hands and burying his face between your thighs. A long, warm wet lick with the flat of his tongue from one end of you to the other has your head thudding against the pillows and your hands searching for purchase in his hair.  Pleasure sparkles all over your body, glitters behind your eyes as he tastes you, suckles that little bundle of nerves, as he gently glides two of his thick, warm fingers right inside and curves them up.

His name is a strangled sound puffed into the air, your breath hitching in the way he admitted to loving so much as he begins to pet your inside walls with his fingertips, his lips latched around your clit. His patchy scruff and mustache adding to the feel of him against your skin, against the most intimate part of you he’s taking his time in pleasuring. It takes everything you have to lift your head enough to peer through bleary eyes to find him already staring up at you. His pupils blown so wide there’s no hint of the deep brown they’re made up of. His brow is furrowed in concentration, the tops of his cheeks barely visible a deep hue of pink as he worships you.

While still holding your gaze, he purses his lips and sucks, turning the sparkles of pleasure into hot waves as they overtake you. Your body isn’t your own any longer as it tenses, back arching clean off bed, your thighs clenching around his ears. Your lost in the force of the pleasure he pulled from you as easily as breathing, taken every moan and sigh as signals to what you liked best, listening to your body like he was meant to. It’s no longer yours but his.

“They’re we go, so good, sweetheart. You taste so good,” He murmurs as he helps your through the crest before pulling again to palm at himself through his underwear with one hand, the other holding your bucking hips down to clean every last bit of your release from where his fingers are pulled from you.

Reaching for him, you tug at him, urging him up to his knees so you had run your palm over the trail of dark hair that disappears below his waistband. He moves his hand from where he’s holding himself through the fabric as your fingers sneak below and touch him for the first time. His hips cant, pressing firmly into your willing hand.

“Take these off, please.” You whisper as you wrap your hand around him, barely able to touch the tips of your fingers with the girth of him fully hard. He’s hot against your skin, velvet soft over the rigidness of his cock. Finally seeing all of him as he pulls the fabric down and pushes it past his thighs. You let him go for him to toss them over the side of the bed, eyes taking in the stretch of his body through the action.

He’s peppered with freckles over his tan skin, chest covered in thick hair that’s the same steel grey of his curls, thick thighs tensed with the way he sits before you on his knees. He’s littered with scars, some thin and crisscrossing over each other, some raised thick to disrupt the smoothness of his skin, though none hold the same untold story of the one at his temple. The one he lets you brush softly before sleep. But they don’t take away from his beauty, they enhance it and let you know without a doubt he’s a fighter.

His cock is thick and long, ruddy at the tip and bobbing despite the heft to kiss his stomach as you eye him up and down. Every inch of him is beautiful and you tell him with a sigh, body singing for him to come back to you. Locking eyes with him, you see his own insecurities wash away at the wonder and admiration you gaze at him with.

As soon as you move to reach for him, he’s doing the same. Mouths connecting and laying his body over yours to feel every bit of your skin against his that he can manage, your legs parting to wrap around his waist. You gasp at the bump of his tip to your folds, the breathy sound turning into a moan when he grinds down against you, his hands tangling in your hair as he swallows it straight from your lips.

He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he reaches down to grip himself, guiding the ruddy tip to your entrance and holding his breath for the barest of seconds. You nod, unable to form words so wrapped around him, so covered by him, to consumed by him and what he means to you. Twin moans decorate the air as he pushes in, the girth of him stretching you and causing heat to lick at every single nerve.

It’s soft and slow, sensual the way he moves against you. Taking in the moment for all that it is, showing you in the most intimate way what you mean to him as you feel how deep he gets with every thrust. But when you moan out for him to go harder, to go faster – he willingly obliges. The slow roll of his hips shifting into quick snaps against yours, a hand gripping your thigh over his shoulder as he presses down in such a delicious way. You can tell you startle him when you cry out, the head of his cock catching that perfect spot, as your hands scrabble at his shoulders and your nails dig into the freckles skin of his broad back.

Sighing, you take a moment to stretch out your shoulders once you remove the apron from around your neck. It’s well into February and you’ve take back control of the morning shift at the mess hall.

Marsha had done a…well, she hadn’t done the best, but Maria had stepped in the week before you had been due back. To ensure everything was exactly the way you preferred it. It had been a lot of long early morning shifts on top of staying through the lunch service. You had tried to stifle your amusement at Maria complaining about how fast the woman had tried to get through cleaning tasks to get home before the sun set. None of it had been good enough for Maria, knowing that you dedicated yourself to making sure things were not only clean but ‘Olive clean’ as she termed it. Turning the whole dining room and setting up the kitchen for a smooth open the next morning since dinner was normally left to the individual households or the Tipsy Bison.

Part of her punishment was formally apologizing to you and thanking you for your service to the town, but it hadn’t happened. You weren’t holding your breath for it to happen, either. It wouldn’t undo all the anxiety and hesitancy you still had even now interacting with anyone outside of your very small circle.

“Miss Olive?” The sudden voice of someone peeking their head through the swinging door that led into the kitchen caught you off guard. “Oh shoot, I am so sorry! I didn’t meant startle you.”

“Oh, it’s okay, just lost in my own head. How can I help you?”

They step inside, an older couple that comes at the same time everyday, enjoying the quiet before the rest of the residents make their way into the dining room.

“Just wanted to say it was a good meal this morning. We really appreciate all the work you put in providing for the town. Glad to have you back in the swing of things.”

“Oh! Well, th-thank you very much. I’m glad you enjoyed today, had a couple friends urge me to include the pastries.” They nod at you, waving before turning away and disappearing back through the door. A smile graces your lips as you shrug on your coat and wrap a scarf around your neck. The kind words help you to trudge your way through the built up snow from the night before, none of it having melted once the sun rose. The winds are still sharp, piercing in their added chill to the air.

Your home is nice and toasty when you enter, intending to shower the splash of porridge that had gotten you, sinking into your skin even after you had wiped off. But you pause when you catch the scent of fresh coffee and hear a distant grunting coming from your back room. Instincts taking over, you reach for the bat leaning up against the corner behind the front door.

“Hello?” You call out, unsure of who would be in house since Joel was supposed to be on patrol with Ellie. Maria and Tommy wrapped up in council meetings with Macon dropped off at the school to be watched over.

“Jus’ me! Shit-“ A loud thud cuts off Joel’s words and you’re rushing down the hall to find him crouching on the floor, hands busy holding the framework of a shelving unit where it had tilted over. “Hey, sweetheart, wanted to have this done by the time you got back.”

You had torn out the old shelves of the back room, the wall smoothed and painted over a few days ago when you had tried to reorganize everything and one of them came crashing down. Ellie had been over a week or so ago, indulging in your vinyl collection as she did homework while she stayed the night, Joel on an overnight patrol. Apparently, she had shared with him the scary moment that prompted the change to the wall.

“Are you okay?” The words rush out as you move around him to help push the large structure back onto it’s base. He sighs as he stands, knees cracking from the added weight of the wood against him as he tensed and braced against it. When he did, your eyes rove over him to ensure he really was okay. Then the bump on his forehead catches your attention as he looks over to you. It’s red and slightly swollen.

You see the small scrape on his cheek, blood beading up along the thin lines.

“Damn thing just shifted as I was adjusting the line up. ‘m okay, promise.”

But you close in on him, hands cupping his face as you pull it down to you, brushing your lips lightly against the bump as his hands wrap around your waist. Shifting down, you kiss just below the thin scrapes, not wanting to pull at them or irritate them further before reaching for a kerchief from your back pocket and dabbing lightly at the blood. Pulling back to peer into his eyes, you see the almost shy way he’s looking from you to the shelving unit.

“There,” You press your lips to his next, his eyes fluttering shut at the swipe of your tongue against his plush bottom one. He swallows the sound that bursts from your chest as he pulls you close. He tastes like the coffee you had smelled when you first walked through the front door. Humming out an, “All better.”

His grin is bright, the dimple in his right cheek fluttering your stomach as you catch sight of it hidden in his scruff.

“All better.” He parrots before shifting you both so your back is to the wall he had been working on installing the shelving unit against. “But you ain’t supposed to be home yet. Your present isn’t ready.”

“Present? I didn’t ask for anything, Joel Miller.” You crane your head around to try and look at what he was doing, too concerned with him to see what he had been trying to do exactly. But he brought a hand up from your waist to grip at your chin and he halted the movement. “And aren’t you supposed to be on patrol with Ellie?”

“Traded off with Tommy, told ‘im I had something important to do today.”

“Joel…”

“Nu-uh. You’ll have to wait to see it, birthday girl. Macon is due for pick up in an hour,” You huff a laugh as he bends his knees to lift your weight and toss it over his wide shoulder. Hair falling loose around your face, it’s impossible to see anything as he struts out of the room and across the hall to the bathroom. He sets you down atop the vanity counter with a light of his own at how disheveled your hair got.

“So pretty,” He muses quietly as he brushes it from your face and tucks it behind an ear. Heat creeps up your face, still not used to such open compliments from the handsome man. Stepping away for a moment, he fiddles with the shower knobs to get the water going, ensuring it’s the perfect temperature that you prefer. He helps you to disrobe, trailing his lips over every inch of your upper body as it becomes exposed before ushering you into the stall with a parting kiss. We’ll head over to Tommy’s for an early dinner once I’m finished up here, yeah?”

“Yes, of course.”

Dinner was a small affair, Ellie using one of the recipe cards you had made for Joel to attempt her hand at a casserole and a cake. The noodles were far too mushy and the cheese was a little too crusted, but you wouldn’t trade her bright smile as she set it down with a flourish for anything in the world. The cake was a touch better, the frosting smooth in most places and the perfect amount of sweetness to counteract the rich chocolate she had been adventurous in trying out. Two candles were lit atop it after meal, her smile infectious as you thanked her and reached to squeeze her smaller frame to yours.

“Alright, alright. Now make a wish and blow them out!” She was excited, Macon imitating her as he bounced in your lap.

“Macon, want to help me?” He gurgled his agreement, barely able to hold his head up and only for short bursts of time. But he pursed his lips as you leaned closer to the cake and blew. He made a sputtering sound, bubbles forming at the corners of his lips and everyone laughed as he seemed shocked at the smoke lifting from the now spent candles. You looked over to Joel, catching the soft smile he was sporting as he watched on.

But you were both in your home now, having left at the assurance of dinner being cleaned up and the kitchen tidied. You were standing in the back room, taking in the sight of what he had been working on all day. Floor to ceiling shelves had been installed on the wall that was shared with the kitchen on the other side. The supplies you kept for the harvest from the olive trees aesthetically placed in the cubbies.

“Joel, it’s beautiful. Thank you so much.” You felt the heat of him as he walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle. His deep voice was so close as he hooked his chin over your shoulder. He guided you out of the room and across the hall to your bedroom, waddling his frame around yours as he refused to let go.

“What’d you wish for, sweetheart?” He whispered, as if it was a secret he was hoping to be privy to, your breath hitched as you turned in his arms and snaked your hands around his neck.

“Nothin’, just…for everything to keep on the way it has been. I’ve got everything I need.” You leaned up and kissed him, his hands tightened around your waist, and you giggled as he dipped you a little with his enthusiasm. You could feel his own smile as his lips moved against yours and you breathed out one last laugh before pivoting your bodies toward the bed. He let you, so willing underneath your touch.

The next morning you both rise early before the sun, helping each other dress and then walk hand in hand toward the stables, boots crunching over the thin ice that had formed overnight. Just as you lead Lowry through the gates, Joel astride is own horse, he turns to you with a lopsided grin.

Your eyes trail over him, landing on the worn fabric of his back pocket, the spiral top of his notepad tucked securely inside. It turns out the faded patch was your business after all and you smile at him in return as he speaks.

“So what’s your favorite movie?”

You answer him honestly, earning a huff of slight exasperation for your answer. Turning the question on him as the sound of steady hoofbeats and soft conversation flows over the open plains of your morning route.

previous chapter || end

taglist:

@joelsgreys @morning-star-joy @sawymredfox @pascalpvnk @littlemisspascal

@merz-8 @orcasoul @sabmat @dreamingofleon @keylimebeag

@picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @joeloverture

@joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @corazondebeskar

@honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @hiroikegawa @dugiioh

@persephone-girl @furiousmushroom @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc

@part2joelmiller @formulafun @noisynightmarepoetry @sofiparallel

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@ohhellotherebumblebee @koshkaj-blog @amyispxnk @wand-erer5

dividers by the lovely: @/cafekitsune and /saradika-graphics

[dogearedheart]

We were in the gold room where everyone finally gets what they want, so I said What do you want, sweetheart? and you said Kiss me.

[various poems by richard siken || dispair, supernatural]

[ivys-garden]

Alright, I'm going to write my own thoughts down on the situation, sorry if this gets rambly

First of all, Shubble is so brave for speaking up, it's really hard for victims to speak up against there abusers in a public setting and she deserves all the respect in the world for it

That being said we do need to be mindful to give her space, this was a really traumatic thing for her and we all need to be mindful of that, give her room to breath.

On the same lines, don't go after other ccs for not ""releasing statements"", content creators aren't companies, there people. Don't get on at them for not publicly supporting Shubble, especially since there undoubtedly doing it in private, which is probably better than shoving it out there for millions of people to see. Let people support there friend in a way they and shubble are confortable with, if shubble wants them to say something or they think they need to say something themselves, they will say it.

It's like Pearl said, just because you don't see something happening publicly doesn't mean it isn't happening

Also, don't jump to call Tommy or Phil or Grian or anyone else enablers because they haven't said anything, they'll need time to process this too, it's hard to find out that your friend is a domestic abuser, let them process this in piece and don't try to cancel them over nothing like a fool. (People like Tommy will need time especially since Wilbur befriended them when they were young and by all accounts manipulated them too)

If anyone of these people have anything they feel they need to say they'll say it when there good and ready, good life tip folks:Don't Harass People. Especially if they have almost nothing to do with this (honestly Saw someone say they were going to go on to fucking RT about this despite him not knowing either person very well, the fuck)

I know why people do it, they want to make sure there favourite content creators aren't also bad, but they are people and they deserve respect, I can garentee you that almost no Qsmp or Hermitcraft or Other MCYT member who knew him stands with Wilbur

(Also if anyone brings Techno into this fuck right off let the man rest.)

Also, some brain dead morons are saying that people calling out wilbur are doing it for clout and that they should have done it sooner, but most of the abuse happened in private, and wilbur manipulated others, many wouldn't have realised anything was wrong and if they did its still better and more respectful to come forward after shubble since its HER story to tell.

(This attack also doesn't work anymore because we have things like tubbos stream, where he actively discourages his chat from treating him like a hero for speaking out, but yeah sure they all don't give a shit about shubble and just want to make themselves look better, fuck outta here)

Now, if your a former wilbur fan, let me make this super clear

DONT WATCH HIM AND DONT LISTEN TO HIS MUSIC

"BuT SePuRaTe ThE ArT FrOm ThE Arti-

Nah. That doesn't work here. You can separate a book or game or movie, you can't with a cc. Its there face, there voice, there personality. Find a different band, find a different CC to watch. There are other options, I know it sucks to find out someone you like did an awful thing,but that doesn't mean we should support those people for our sakes, especially when people were actively hurt by there actions. Trust me everyone, this will get better, things will go back to how they were before

Finally, this should go without saying, Fuck William Gold to the core of teh fucking earth. And any who still support him.

He is a raging egotistical manipulator and abuser. don't blame people for not seeing it sooner, no one can do that. What we can do though is blame people who still wholeheartedly support him and his actions.

He has not "changed" nor will he ever at the rate at which he's going. He's still a egomaniac who's more concerned with saving his image than actually apologising for his actions, even then an apology wouldn't fix all he's done,it would just be closer and a jumping off point to be better, but he can't even fucking do that.

If wilbur does reflect and grow, good on him, but if he doesn't then I can say with absolute certainty we wouldn't fucking miss him.

Fuck Wilbur. Support Shelbym

[kelppsstuff]

“HOW LONG.”

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | ALT ENDING

Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of cheating.

Taglist: @adamsfavoritesinner @dustsofangels @leathesimp @lunanight1021 @michelleszn @p1nkiee @reeses-piece @strangerthings36 @biggdaddylonglegs @danart501 @sashaphantomhive @ladyninggs @dak-ots

Hello, so this is the Alt ending so everyone please know that this is LUCIFERS ENDING! Adams is in part three!

—

Court went absolutely terrible. Adam had basically trashed the whole idea. Adam also had a huge influence on the court.

I felt truly sorry for Charlie, and Emily. I had thought Sera told Emily, but apparently not. Let's just say, the whole session could have gone better.

"I'm so sorry Charlie." We were back in the heaven hotel. We had a few more hours before we had to leave. "It's okay, not your fault." Her smile was shaky. "Do you think I could have some time alone?" | smiled gently at her. "Of course darling, get some rest." I closed the door and looked up to see Lucifer. He looked conflicted, confused, and concerned. The three C's.

" knew I shouldn't have set up this meeting. They crushed her!" We walked back into our own hotel room. "She's a strong girl Luce. She'll be okay. I promise." And she will be. Eventually.

Lucifer smiled at me, but the it faltered. The conflict-ion coming back into his face.

*I saw Lilith." | nodded my head and gestured for him to continue. “|-I don't know anymore. I like you." He sat down on the bed putting his face in his hands. "Like really really like you." | sat on the floor in front of him. Moving his hands away to look at his crimson eyes. "I like you too.”

His eyes squeeze shut almost as if his next words hurt him to say. "But I made a vow. That no matter what she and I would always have one another. Even if those words did hurt him, I was positive it hurt me more.

"Your going back to her" A tear fell down my face. Lucifer opened his eyes again and brushed the said tear aside with his smooth hand.

"What kind of man would I be if I didn't keep my word to her? What kind of example would I be telling my daughter?" My heart was hurting.m but I understood even if it did hurt.

"Do you love her. My voice breaking. I never even met her and yet it felt like she took away all the ones I loved. "Yes." Fuck.

"Do you love me?" Another tear fell. This time instead of his hand brushing it away it was his lips. “Yes.”

(Where the ALT ENDING begins.)

I shook my head. He couldn’t tell me that. Not when he’s going to her. Not when I loved him.

“I understand.” I understood but fuck why did this hurt so bad then? “I have to go to her now.” He stood and looked to the door. “She’s coming back to hell with us.” I stood as well and nodded at him.

He walked across the room. I heard the door open but I didn’t look to see. To busy staring at the wall in shock, I’m heartache, and in longing.

The door closed and I heard two words come from Lucifer. “Fuck it.”

He walked across the room to me and when I turned to ask what he leaned me down to his lips.

He was kissing me, hard.

My lipstick started to stain his lips and he spoke in between when our mouth would disconnect.

“The example—“

Another kiss.

“I want to set—“

A kiss.

“Is for my daughter—“

A kiss.

“To choose the person their heart actually belongs too.”

A final kiss. Our hand started to roam all over each other.

—

Lilith ended up staying in heaven. I had convinced Adam to call off the extermination.

Adam would try and win me back but I always said no. I couldn’t ever trust him again.

I would always love Adam. And if he ever needed my help with something I would give the help he needed.

But with my son on the way I wanted to set an example to him.

To be with the person his heart truly belongs too, and not to be with the person they gave vows to, that no longer have no meaning.

I wore my silver band that Adam gave me around my finger.

Lucifer wore his gold band Lilith gave to him, around his finger.

We never married, we didn’t need too. We were happy as we could ever be.

—

AND THATS A WRAP! If you have any ideas don’t be afraid to request. 💛

Taglist

[moralesluvr]

˚ʚ our big day ft. miles morales ɞ˚

♡ pairings & aus: miles morales x fem!black!reader, aged up/marriage au. ♡ warnings: lots of tears and big emotions, marriage!! love and fluff honestly ♡ summary: after 462 days of being engaged, your wedding day finally rolls around, and miles gives you a heartfelt speech in front of the congregation. ♡ a/n: (this can be viewed as 1610 OR 42 miles!) also, this fic is based on an ask! thank you anon for your request <3 ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡

YOU STOOD IDLE IN FRONT OF the mirror with tears eyes, French Tip accented nails fumbling with the sequins on your long, pearly white dress. A halted breath finally leaves you as you force your lips to curl into a smile, your best friend's hands on either of your shoulders as she rests her head on your left one. She grins, "You look so beautiful. Everything okay? It ain't even my wedding, but I look more pumped than you do."

Shrugging, you nodded fervently, gaze still attached to your reflection as you spoke.

"Nah, I'm happy, I'm just...so nervous."

You plead guilty to her accusation of you being scared, after being asked numerous times throughout the morning. It wasn't that you didn't love Miles, or didn't want to marry him-- but it definitely was a big step and you felt like you had the right to have the swirled feelings of anxiety and ecstasy.

You tore away from the mirror and made your way to the mini-refrigerator that was plugged into the wall of your room that you were getting ready in. It was beautiful-- gold trimmings accentuating the white walls that were engraved with various patterns, pillars lining all the corners boldly. There were couches and stools that looked like they belonged to royalty, and that's what you felt like-- that's what he made you feel like.

When Miles proposed to you, you had never seen him act so loving before. He had taken you to a private steakhouse with all your friends and family, where he had got down on one knee and passionately asked you to marry him. He had a couple tears streaming down his face, and for the remainder of the evening, he wouldn't let go of you. He kept squeezing your hand and frequently reminding you how much he adored and loved you, which, only led to more tears and loving kisses here and there.

The ring was beautiful. It was a simple one from Tiffany & Co, and the size was perfectly curated to your unique size. Miles definitely splurged on it, considering that you had been looking for rings from there, and you were familiar with Tiffany's prices.

But he didn't mind. If it was for you, he'd spend a pretty penny, and he wouldn't protest against doing it again.

You stared at the ring now, it's dip in the center being saved specially for your actual wedding ring. The wedding began in under an hour, and everyone was rushing into your respective room to give you kisses and pep talks, along with little touch ups to your lipstick or help with your makeup.

Your mother was the last to enter, and you both requested that everyone exit before you got ready to walk down the aisle. She walked over to you, gently grabbing both of your arms as she cocked her head to the side, tears brimming the underskirts of her eyes.

"I'm so proud of you," She spoke, "I can't believe my baby is gettin' married. Y'know, I ain' think you would with your attitude."

"Ma." You dragged with a laugh as she snickering at you through slit eyes, pearly whites flashing eagerly. She continued her statement when your laughter to subside, "That boy is crazy in love with you. You know, before he put that ring on your finger, he asked me and your daddy did he have permission to marry you."

"What?" You gasped. Your mother nodded,

"He sure did...and I know that I ain't make no mistake when I told him yes. He loves you, Y/N/N...he really does. Now, before we go out there to see your soon-to-be husband, come here and give your mama a hug."

Giggling, you let yourself sink into your mother's embrace, smiling as she grasped your hand. The fear began to reign in your blood as you walked down the hallway, preparing for the doors to be opened so you could walk down the aisle.

Your had hadn't seen your dress, neither has Miles, of course, which made you even more nervous. What if he didn't like it?

"You're okay." Was the last thing your mother said to you before the doors opened slowly, sweet, instrumental music sounding through the speakers as everyone rose to their feet. You couldn't help but crack a smile, feeling your eyes gloss over with affection as your brown irises located your husband. Before you walked, your little cousin gave you a big smile as she took the path before you, littering red petals onto the floor for you to pass through.

When she got at a good distance ahead of you, you walked down the stairs with grace, holding onto your mother tightly as people waved to you or snapped photos of you. Miles cocked his head to the side and you could tell he had been crying, because his eyes were extremely red and he was holding some sort of handkerchief that matched his suit color.

Your mother eventually left your side as you finally stood in front of your husband, hands grasping against your bouquet of flowers. The music began to slow and fall silent when you grinned at your lover across from you. His hand flew up to his mouth and he quickly turned around, the crowd letting out 'Awws' as he collected himself with a sniffle and a wipe to his eyes.

He then turned back around and faced you, mouthing to you about how beautiful you looked.

Miles' little cousin was walking down the path that you formerly strode through, carefully holding the wedding rings as he grinned. He hopped up to your soon-to-be husband, who gave him a high five and accepted the rings, "Thank you, little man."

Everyone took their seats as the priest in front of you read aloud all the 'things', making you even more anxious as the process of you being married was prolonged. The man asked both of you if you had anything to say, and that's when Miles grabbed both of your hands, smiling at you as he took a deep breath.

"Y/N L/N, I have loved you since the day I laid eyes on you. I know when we first met, you ain't really care for me much, but I always knew deep down that I just had to have you. I loved your laugh and I loved it even more when I was the one to cause it. I said stuff just so I could see you smile. I did things just to make you happy. And, even though sometimes we fought and disagreed, nothing in this world could alter or take away the love I have for you. You mean the entire world to me. And..." He takes a breath, wiping a tear from his eye as the crowd encouraged him, "I can't believe I get to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you, Mrs. Morales. I always will."

You try so hard not to cry again, but you find that the tears fall when Miles slides your ring onto your finger, and as the priest finally pronounces you man and wife, deeming Miles permission to kiss the bride.

You feel him swiftly wrap an arm around you as he hitched your leg up, dipping you and planting a passionate, loving kiss against your lips. That earns a standing ovation, your guests clapping and hooting happily at the official declaration of your marriage.

Your husband. Your lover. Your everything.

And you wouldn't trade it for the world.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓🕷️: @queenesther996 //@sukunas-slutty-bitch // @c3f21 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @moisttowllet // @Dee-m-cee // @liliummz // @starhrtz // @daisydark // @randomhoex // @solanawrld // @whore4hobie // @tanakaslastbraincell // @simp4miguell // @nyrovi3 // @my3tumbles // @aziulsworld // @enchantingfoxsparkles // @mancerseedu // @cafehyunji // @personofyou // @mcdvsr // @kopiivie // @ellatienesuscosas // @venuswash3re // @calliarlerte // @pr0wlerpunk // @tzuyuzzs // @wisepoetrycheesecake // @clearskiiiess // @d3atht3hek1d // @vienreina // @pixqlsin // @caulifloweron // @aizawassimpblog // @stvrgrl // @zerosinterweb // @ishqani // @mookiebut // @urmotherswhor3 // @cumbermovels // @asmobeuses // @yanghees // @popeheywardssecretgf // @mxspiderman2099 // @1lenii // @scryarchives // @rksses // @rosvlsr // @mmst4rz

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✎: @Dee-m-cee // @euphorichappiness10 // @adoree-kaelynn // @mhadnirb // @mmst4rz // @iris-theflower // @fleurrieerecs // @kenlani // @kala2022 // @ilyless // @milesmolasses // @laylasbunbunny // @all444miles // @thecoloredpages // @bl00dsuccker // @evacowan // @popeheywardssecretgf // @adoremvney // @anikaluv // @qtdenks

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @enj4i // @chrissytalia // @chaoticevilbakugo // @motheroffae // @luci1fer // @art-598

[lovifie]

Her Royal Highness Pt.5

Masterlist

Prologue — Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5

The people of the city turn out to be delighted, elated to be visited by the Princess. And you feel glad because they don't look at you with the fear the guard had, they look at you with happiness in their eyes, joyful the Princess finally left the castle.

They are so happy, that they don't seem to notice the mysterious men that follow you. Not literally, they remained on a table inside the inn, but you can feel their eyes on you at all times. 

It is a nice thing they do, because after a while you start to feel dizzy. People keep pulling you in different directions, wanting to show you places and introduce you to people. You can see the guard from the journey, and he looks ready to pull his hair out every time someone grabs your hand, afraid that you are going to suddenly turn into a tyrant like your late father. 

You won't, of course. Getting a taste of what a kingdom that likes you feels like, you don't want to experience the opposite. At some point, the guard loses his patience and peels your hand away from the people, guiding you to the table where everyone else is eating.

“Ooh, the Princess finally resigned herself to sit with us. Such an honour, your Royal Highness.” Gaz exclaims, standing up just to do a dramatic reverence, with Soap doing exactly the same.

“Sit down, you muppets.” The king orders next to you with a teasing note in his voice. So he can be nice. That's how he sounds when normal. 

“Yes, my dear King” Soap says, doing a second reference before sitting down. Price snickers beside you at Soap's antics, if only you could get on his good side like that. 

Around the rectangular table, you are sitting beside the king on one side, with Gaz, Soap and Ghost sitting on the opposite. Ghost and you are the ones sitting the more far away from each other, which is why it surprises you to see him staring at you.

You maintain eye contact, not wanting to back down first, and surprisingly it's him who does. But only to look at your hand, his eyebrows raise, remembering something. You look at him curious as he gets his hand inside his pocket and pulls something that slides across the table in your direction. 

Five heads look at the object, and soon realize what he throws at you.

A ring. 

A simple small gold band.

For a second, you think that it is just a weird gift from the Prince; a peace offering. But when you look at him, he looks at you expectantly as if waiting for you to answer and it clicks. 

Your soon-to-be husband, is proposing to you.

“That's it?” You ask picking it up to check it better, disappointment clear in your voice. 

“We're you expecting rubies?” He laughs. “I thought you were more humble than that, princess “

“It's not about the ring…” You say looking at it. “I thought you would at least ask me, indulge me a bit and trick me into thinking I had a choice, you know.” 

“If you were expecting me to kneel, you may be more stupid than we thought.” He chuckles drily.

You ignore him, the insult falling on deaf ears at this point and focus on the ring. Just looking at it you know it's not going to be your size, and when you try to get your finger in it, it is so much bigger it could fit two of yours. You realise then, that they didn't even bother to find an actual ring, and just used one they had themselves. 

“It doesn't fit.” You comment, still looking at your hand.

“Close your fist then.” Ghost answers. “Better not lose it.” 

You should hit him. Shove the ring down his throat until he chokes. But you don't, instead, you stand up, ring in hand, and walk up to the room they lend you without saying anything else. 

Some of the maids quickly follow you as you walk upstairs into the room. Your luggage is already there, and you take out the nightgown even though the sun is still out. But your chances are going down to the king and putting up with their passive-aggressive remarks or going out and getting hurt or kidnapped by people's kindness. 

You are far from being used to dealing with this many people on a daily basis, so the silence of the room when you get out of the bathtub makes you want to go to sleep. 

So you step into the room, looking at the ground and closing the door behind you. When you look up to your bed, the bed looks back at you. Well, not the bed, but Simon.

You gasp when you see the behemoth of a man, laying down on his back on your bed without his mask and cape. In his hands, he is playing with a garment you can figure out at first. 

Until he smirks at you, and then you realize is the undergarments you were wearing today. “Simon!” You exclaim, completely scandalized by the violation of your privacy. “That's not yours!” 

The fact that he entered your room while you were bathing becomes a second offence, and you walk up to him ready to take it back. Except it looks like that was exactly his plan because when you extend your hand to try and grab it, he grabs your wrist pulling you on top of him.

You shriek out of the surprise, in part surprised by his strength; able to hold you up by the hand on your wrist and in part, surprised by his lack of decorum. He is so close you can feel the heat radiating from his skin, he is looking up at you with such a condescending look but it is the eye contact of his golden brown eyes that keeps you in a trance. 

Trance, that gets suddenly broken by a sharp pain in your ass when Simon slaps your ass. You slowly look back at him and slap him back on his chest. “You did not fucking do that!” You exclaim, and he raises his eyebrows. “Princess!” He says covering his mouth with his free hand. “Language!”

You manage to get your hand free and get back on your feet. You point to the door and say: “Get out!”

He barks a laugh sitting up at the edge of the bed, and at a surprisingly fast speed, he hugs your waist pulling you tight against him again. You manage to get your hands on his shoulder, pulling some distance between him and you.

“But I need to check your wound, Princess.” He says looking up through his eyelashes. “The wound is amazing, Simon. You can leave.” You answer, still trying to pull back.

One of his hands moves up to your waist, and with his thumb and index, he presses over your wound, hard, drawing little droplets of blood and making you wince. “That does sound amazing, but I don't think your wound is.” He says pulling his finger back and licking the blood of his thump while looking at you. You can feel the heat in your ears, an obvious sign of your flush, completely uncalled for. 

You're supposed to get warm with gentle touches, grazing hands and kisses on the cheek. Not by this brute, personification of strength, licking your blood.

“Let me see it, Princess.” He says sternly looking at you. You feel trapped, like in a cage… a really warm cage. So you start to pull the gown up, and you can feel Simon's eyes drag up the newly exposed skin, you are not wearing anything under the nightgown and he notices his eyes widening slightly. One of your hands remains between your legs, making sure only the outside of your leg is exposed as the other rises the gown up to right below your boob where the wound is. 

Simon sets his hand on your knee engulfing it, and apparently, he needs to move his hand up your tights, your hips and up to under your boob just to check the wound. He touches the wound, moving his thumb across it and his fingernail grazes your underboob causing you goosebumps. You turn your head, unable to keep looking at his face, letting a sight escape your lips trying to play it out as a sight of annoyance. 

“You were right, it looks good.” He murmurs, when you feel his breath against your skin you whip your head back to look at him, just to see him lick a strip right under the wound, causing a whine out of you at the heat of his tongue. 

You slap his shoulder this time, taking a step back and putting the nightgown down. “Why did you do that? You are gonna get it infected!” He simply laughs at your face and adds: “Sorry, Princess, I just wanted a taste. It was too tempting.”

“You are a really weird man, Simon Price!” You exclaim, moving back until your back hits the wall, putting as much space as possible between him and you. 

He looks at you confused, before standing up and walking up to you. “Why do you say that, Princess?” He asks, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “Hm?”

“One second you do these… things. Next second you don't even look at me and treat me like trash.” You say looking at the floor. 

He chuckles, cupping your face making you look up to him. “Is this because I told you I wouldn't kneel? Now, Princess. I already gave you the ring, why else do you want me to kneel for you, hm?” He asks getting his face close to yours, for a second you panic he would kiss you, but just before reaching it, he moves to your ear and whispers: “Naughty, girl.”

Putting his hands on your hips, he turns you around leaving you staring at the wall. “Better to check the exit too.” He murmurs against your neck. “Do it quick, and leave.” You order, trying to remain calm.

Instead, he takes his time. Crouching down, knee almost touching his ground, and he grabs the hem of the gown, and slowly, really slowly, as if time has stopped and therefore he had all the time in the world, he starts to raise it, with his fingertip gracing the skin of your leg, fingernail scratching just at the verge of pain. 

Goosebumps spread as he rises, up your calf, up your thigh, up your arse, which he touches with no remorse, and up your back. With one hand, he holds the gown up, and with the other, he caresses your hip. 

You don't feel his eyes on your wound, you feel them lower. And if you have the courage, you would confront him; but coming face to face and he proudly admitting, because he would, that yes, in fact, he was staring at your arse, it's not something you could bear without blushing and therefore feeding his ego. 

“How is it?” You ask, growing impatient with his lack of sounds.

“Amazing, indeed.” He answers immediately, and you know he is not talking about the wound, but that'll do for now. So you take a step to the side, getting out of his hold and let the gown back down, covering your body.

“Great, then you can leave.” You say, crossing your arms unable to look at him. 

“But why? I'm enjoying myself in here, Princess.” He says chuckling at you. 

“Precisely!” You exclaim and grab his wrist, him obviously letting you drag him. You open the door, ready to throw him out when you come to face with Gaz who looks ready to knock at the door. He looks between Simon and you, before gasping loudly.

“Premarital encounters?!” He asks smiling widely, and making you roll your eyes, pushing Simon out of the room and slamming the door. Hearing the two men laugh loudly on the other side.

The next morning, a quick breakfast is eaten. The ring is not on your finger, too big to be comfortable to wear; instead, it is hanging from your neck with a threat. It rests on the center of your chest, so everyone can see it. 

“Princess, I had an idea last night.” The king breaks the silence. “Once we are back at the kingdom, how about we arrange a joust? To welcome everyone that will help arrange the wedding. I'll help everyone to cheer up a bit.” He asks, looking at you.

“A joust?” You ask a bit surprised by the offer. There is still a sour taste on your tongue, it is only for the wedding, so people like him more. But again, he is asking you. Not for your consent, he would do it anyway. But to make you feel like you are actually heard. His voice saying “We are more powerful together than against each other” comes to mind, and you decide to play along: “Sure, that sounds fun.”