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justagalwhowrites · 5 months

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Halcyon - Ch. 10: People Might Think You Care About Me

You and Joel spend the holidays together. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 9, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Again, I'm here begging HBO to give me something to use for young Joel PLZ

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Mention of dieting and diet culture. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5.8K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“I can’t believe my kid is going to like you better than me,” Joel said, sitting in the middle of the living room floor with a roll of wrapping paper spread out in front of him. “Scissors.”

You handed them over before grabbing the tape, putting a piece on the tip of your finger before folding the paper around the box - a friendship bracelet kit - that you were wrapping for Sarah.

“I mean, first of all, your kid already likes me more than she likes you,” you teased, turning the box to do the other side. “She has good taste…”

“You’re the worst.”

“Second,” you said, ignoring him. “It is a joint gift, you’re getting tons of cool dad points out of this.”

“She’s gonna know it was your idea,” he said, adjusting the gift he was wrapping. “Hell, she’s gonna know that only one of us could have gotten tickets and it ain’t me.”

As if on cue, Swiftie - Sarah’s kitten - pounced on the box Joel was wrapping.

“Yeah, this one knows, too,” he said, scooping her up with one large hand and setting her down. “I miss when she wanted Barbies. Shit was easier.”

You laughed.

“Be happy she’s excited about anything enough that she’s going to freak out over Taylor Swift tickets,” you said. “She’s about to be a disaffected teenager, enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” he muttered, “She’s stubborn enough as it is.”

“You’re in for it, Miller,” you said as your cat, Puck, climbed on your lap. You reached around him to finish taping the package you were wrapping. “She’s going to give you so much shit…”

“What if she’s just like you, hm?” Joel teased. “Gonna have a nerd for a kid…”

“Hey, I was a nerd who snuck out at night to go get drunk with the boneheaded jock,” you teased back. “You really want her to be just like me?”

“Jesus, you’re right,” Joel shook his head, finishing wrapping his present. “I’ll have to keep her far away from anyone like me for the sake of us all.”

You snorted and finished wrapping your own gift before scooping Puck into your arms, nuzzling into his fur and giving him a kiss on the head before settling with your back against your couch as you looked at the lights on the tree.

It was Christmas Eve, the first one in years you were spending without Gale and you’d never been more thankful for Joel.

Last year, you and Gale were separated but you’d felt so alone that you’d texted him the afternoon of Christmas Eve and spent most of the night and next day in bed. You’d tricked yourself then, pretended there was a chance in hell of the two of you getting back together and things going back to the way they used to be.

That hadn’t happened. You’d spent New Year’s Eve in bed, too. Except that time, you were alone.

You’d been afraid that was going to happen for you this holiday season, too. You asked Anna what she had planned for Christmas, fully expecting her to want to spend the day together. She had other things in mind.

“Honestly, ever since Mom died?” She’d shrugged. “I love using it as a day to just chill. Binge watch TV I’ve been meaning to catch up on, eat a pile of Chinese food, maybe take a bath… It’s pretty boring but I love it. And since I’ve got this little bundle on the way, I’m extra looking forward to it this year.”

“Oh,” you forced a smile, trying to hide your disappointment. “No, that sounds great.”

“Oh God,” she clamped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide for a moment. “Did you want to do something? I’m so sorry, I should have…”

“”No,” you waved her off quickly. “No, you’re good! I don’t want to disrupt your plans…”

“You can join if you want!” She said. “I mean, for everything but the bath part, that might be a little much now that we’re not kids anymore.”

“No,” you said again. “You have fun! Tradition is tradition and you need the break. Maybe I’ll do the same.”

You should have known that she would have her own way of doing things. You’d all but abandoned her during your marriage, sending perfunctory text messages and holiday cards and flying her up for a long weekend every year or so but, otherwise, you went weeks without talking. Of course she had Christmas plans that didn’t involve you. Why would she have any that did?

Joel, however, had done what he’d always done since you’d moved back to Texas: Made room for you in his life.

“Know you and Anna probably already got plans but,” he’d shrugged two weeks earlier. “If you don’t… want to spend Christmas with me n’Sarah? Tommy, too, assuming he doesn’t con his way into dinner at some girl’s house. S’OK if you don’t, just figured… I dunno…”

You’d smiled, bigger than you’d really meant to.

“You want me to spend Christmas with you?”

“I want you to spend most days with me,” he shrugged. “But you know, we gotta go out in the world and make money and shit. Anyway, Christmas. You in? Could just move in until the New Year if you really wanted…”

The last part wasn’t going to work with your obligation to go try to write a book once Christmas was through. But you had spent the last two nights at Joel’s, bringing Puck over to play with Sarah and Swiftie as the three of you watched Christmas movies and binged cookies. No papers to grade, no lawyers calling because your attorneys’ offices were closed, no pressure because you already had time set aside to write. You could really relax for the first time in what felt like an eternity and relaxing with Joel and Sarah was quickly becoming your favorite thing in the entire world.

But all that relaxing had meant there was a small pile of presents that weren’t wrapped that needed to make it under the tree. It was Christmas Eve and time had run out.

“You need to stop procrastinating,” you said, getting your egg nog that was now mostly liquor off the coffee table and taking a sip. “Can’t get away with that shit when you’re a business owner.”

“Just watch me,” he teased. “Besides, you’re one to talk, you made any progress on that book?”

“That’s what next week is for,” you said, giving the cat a kiss just as he started to get restless in your arms. You set him down. “Fingers crossed having nothing else to do will make me churn out the words.”

“Wild to me that you make money from what’s in your head,” Joel came and sat next to you. “Not that I think you shouldn’t, if anyone should it’s you. Just that anyone does at all is insane.”

“Well, I may not make money off it for long if I can’t write anything else,” you sighed. “Know what? Let’s not talk about next week. I want to live in this moment - the one where we don’t have any worries and the presents are all under the tree and Sarah is passed out - for a while longer yet.”

Joel hummed in agreement and you leaned your head on his shoulder, sighing contentedly. You could smell his skin and cologne and there was still a little bacon scent from when he’d made breakfast for the three of you that morning.

“Think she’ll have a good Christmas?” Joel asked quietly, the two of you watching the lights twinkle on his tree.

“Hell yeah,” you smiled a little. “You really are an amazing Dad, Joel.”

He scoffed.

“I’m serious,” you peered up at him. “You’re lucky to have Sarah but she’s lucky as hell to have you, too. She’s going to love it.”

“Speaking of parents… anything new in the Anna situation?” Joel asked cautiously.

“It’s a girl,” you sighed. “But she seems to be keeping up with everything, thank God. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe this is the kick in the ass she’s been needing…”

“Was for me,” Joel shrugged, making your head rise with his shoulder.

You sighed again.

“Just seems like an awful lot to put on a kid,” you said. “And you might have been young and dumb but you didn’t have the shit Anna’s got on her plate. It’s a bit of a different story with her.”

“She might surprise you. But either way, we’ll make up a room for the little sucker here,” Joel said. “Just to be safe.”

“Regardless, that’s next year Goldie and Joel’s problem,” you said. “And thank fuck for that.”

“Yeah, fuck those two,” you could hear the smile on Joel’s voice. “Let’s put the wrapping paper away and go to bed, something about Santa and knowing when you’re sleeping and all that.”

You cleaned up the living room and tried not to pay attention to the nighttime routine you’d fallen into with Joel in the few days you’d been staying with him. You had your own sink in Joel’s bathroom, one that had your hair products and face wash lined up alongside it. You had your own side of the bed with your own nightstand where the book you’d been reading the last few days was nearing its end and waiting for you. If you thought about it too much, you’d miss it when it was gone. If you thought about it too much, it might seem like something you could keep.

Joel made his customary space at his side and you nestled into him, your head on his chest where you could hear his heart beat. His fingers trailed up and down your arm.

“There are upsides to a kid, you know,” he said quietly. “Christmas morning is one of ‘em. Just wait.”

You smiled a little.

“Stop keeping me awake and we won’t have to wait long,” you said.

Joel snorted.

“Yeah yeah. Night Goldie.”

“Night Joel.”

Sarah came careening into Joel’s room before 7 a.m., slamming into the bed so hard that it made your teeth rattle.

“Dad! Aunt Goldie!” She shook you both. “Wake up, it’s Christmas!”

“Yeah, alright,” Joel groaned, taking his warm arm from its place around your shoulders. You groaned, too. “You stay here with Goldie while I go put the coffee pot on and get set up to record you…”

Sarah groaned.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he said. “Sit tight, five minutes.”

You rolled onto your back and blinked the sleep from your eyes, Sarah bouncing impatiently on the bed. You lifted your head enough to look at her, curls sticking every which way, and you dropped back down onto the pillow with a groan.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, kid,” you said.

“Yeah, that’s what my dad says,” she said cheerfully and you could picture her smile as she did.

“Alright, come on out,” Joel called from the living room. Sarah rocketed off the bed and you laughed as you got up yourself, trailing behind her and trying not to yawn.

“Oh cool!” Sarah flopped down beside her stocking and started going through it as you got to the living room. Joel was sitting on the couch, his phone set up on a tripod in the corner and pointed at the tree. “These are those face mask things I said I wanted! And the headbands for soccer!”

“I do pay attention now and then, baby girl,” Joel said, rubbing his eyes.

“Don’t you mean Santa pays attention?” You asked, sitting next to him on the couch. Joel handed you a cup of coffee, made exactly how you liked it.

“I know Santa’s not real, Aunt Goldie,” Sarah rolled her eyes and gave you a look. “I’m 11, not a kid.”

Joel snorted.

“Sorry,” you said. “My mistake.”

“Don’t spoil Santa for Goldie,” Joel said before reaching down on the ground next to him. “Speaking of which…”

He handed you a fat stocking and you frowned a little as you took it.

“You made me a stocking?” You asked, tears pinching at your throat. “No one’s made me a stocking since I was in high school…”

“Then you’re real overdue,” he smiled a little and went back to watching Sarah as she unwrapped a chocolate Santa and stuffed the entire thing in her mouth. “Alright, let’s not eat all the candy in one sitting…”

“But it’s Christmas!” She said, voice muffled around the chocolate.

“Still gonna get sick,” he replied.

You started unpacking the stocking, pulling two pairs of fuzzy socks out of the top.

“Because your feet are always freezing,” he said, looking back at you. “Figured one pair for here, one for your house…”

“Thank you,” you smiled, going back into the stocking. There was some of your favorite candy, one of the face masks Sarah had, a bottle of gold nail polish.

“We can do a spa day!” She beamed.

“We can,” you laughed, looking at Joel who just shrugged, a small smile on his face.

At the bottom of the stocking was a chunky gold pen, thick plastic encasing glitter and you turned it over in your fingers, frowning for a moment at just how familiar it felt.

“Saw one like the one you had when we were kids years ago,” Joel said. “Bought it on a whim, thought you might want it.”

You wanted to say thank you but you couldn’t seem to make a sound, the words caught in your throat. Instead, you just threw your arms around his neck and he laughed a little when he caught you, his hand sliding over your side and around to your back.

You stayed close to Joel and watched as Sarah tore through her presents, the envelope with the concert tickets safely in Joel’s possession.

“Hey Sarah,” you said eventually. “Can you hand me that box under there that’s for your dad?”

Joel frowned as Sarah got the box, setting it on the coffee table in front of Joel and hovering as he went to open it.

“Didn’t need to get me anything,” he said.

“Too damn bad,” you said. “Don’t get too excited, it’s nothing crazy.”

He opened it. Inside were two shot glasses, leather wrapped with a monogrammed M burned into it.

“I thought you needed some accessories for the flask,” you smiled.

He laughed.

“We gotta break these in,” he said, looking them over. “They even look like they match…”

“May have gotten Tommy to send me pictures,” you said. “Keep going, one more thing in there.”

He shifted the tissue paper before pulling out a cassette tape, frowning at it for a moment.

“What…”

“I know your stereo is old enough that it plays tapes,” you said, palm out. “Hand it over.”

He laughed once but obeyed and you went to put the tape in, adjusting the volume so it wouldn’t be too loud. It crackled a bit at the start and then Joel’s voice - almost 20 years younger but still so familiar - filled the room.

“My name is Joel Miller,” he said. “I play guitar and sing, mostly rock, little country…”

Joel gaped at the stereo before looking to you.

“Is this that old demo tape we made when we were kids?” He asked. You laughed and nodded. “Holy… where the hell’d you find this thing?”

“I kept one,” you shrugged. “Thought it might give you a nudge toward playing again.”

The Joel on tape started playing and Sarah came and sat between the two of you on the couch, looking up at her dad.

“So that’s you?” She asked.

“Sure is,” he said. “Long time ago, I was closer to your age then than mine now.”

“What’s it for?” She asked.

“Well,” Joel looked over her head to you and smiled a little before looking back at his daughter. “I always liked playing, wanted to be a singer for a while. Goldie here talked me into making some demo tapes to give to places around here that had open mic nights so I could actually play for people. Worked, too. Had a few places I played pretty often for a bit in there thanks to that tape.”

“Why’d you stop?” She frowned. “You were good.”

Joel shrugged.

“Bigger things to do,” he kissed the top of her head. “Though speaking of music… think there might be one more thing for you under the tree.”

Sarah’s frown deepened and she went to look around, picking her way through wrapping paper and but not finding it.

“There’s nothing over here, Dad,” she said. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, right,” Joel said, giving you a wink and pulling the envelope out of the pocket of his pajama pants. “Here it is.”

She jumped over some of the boxes scattered over the floor and took the envelope from him, her eyebrows knitting together as she read the writing on the front.

“To the swiftest music fan?” She said, looking up from the envelope and at the two of you.

You just shrugged.

“Gonna have to open it, kiddo,” Joel said.

She slipped her fingers below the seal and pulled out the card, two pieces of paper falling to the ground before she had a chance to read it. She picked them up and unfolded them, reading the first one.

“It says we have a hotel room in Dallas?” She looked at Joel.

“Gotta read the other paper, baby girl,” he said. “That’s the important one. And the one from Aunt Goldie.”

She flipped to that page next and only held it for a moment before shrieking and throwing herself at you, knocking you back into the couch.

“You got Eras Tour tickets?” She pulled back, half on top of you and half on the couch. You just laughed and nodded. “Oh my GOD, thank you thank you thank you, you’re the best! OH MY GOD!”

“Well your dad is the one getting us there and making sure we have a place to stay,” you said. “So hug him, too.”

“Thank you!” She threw herself at him, too, and he laughed, catching her and giving her a squeeze. “This is the best present ever, it’s going to be the best time, I can’t wait! We’re going to see Taylor Swift! Oh my GOD, I have to tell my friends!”

She shot off to her room to get her phone and Joel laughed, looking over at you.

“OK I don’t even care that she likes you better n’me now,” he said. “She’s that happy? Worth it.”

“We’ll see how we feel after a few days wrangling her for the Taylor Swift concert,” you said, watching where she’d disappeared up the stairs. “But… yeah, definitely worth it.”

“Hey,” Joel said, voice oddly earnest. You looked over at him. “Thanks for loving my kid.”

You smiled a little.

“She’s yours,” you said. “How could I not?”

Tommy came over a few hours later, once the turkey was in the oven and the wrapping paper was cleaned up off the floor. He gave Sarah a five pound bag of Sour Patch Kids and said “don’t tell your dad” before kissing the top of her head as she scampered off to stash her hoard in her room. He greeted you with a hug with a tight squeeze on the end and you still couldn’t quite get used to just how adult he was. There was part of you that still saw him as the little kid who trailed after you and Joel, the one who sometimes begged to go to Dairy Queen for a Blizzard. Now, he was nearly as tall as his older brother, drinking a beer and talking to Joel about a woman named Maria he’d just started dating. It was an odd reminder of just how much time you’d lost with Joel, just how much had changed.

The four of you had dinner - Tommy teasing Sarah more like a loving older brother than an uncle, making you smile - and, before too long, the day was done.

Sarah insisted on listening to Taylor Swift while she got ready for bed and Joel read to her from an Artemis Fowl book, you eavesdropping on Joel doing the voices from your place in the living room while the cats curled up around you.

A keen sense of belonging settled over you then, as you held a mug of cocoa in one hand and the other rested on the back of your large, orange cat. This, you thought, was where you belonged. In this space, in this time, alongside these people.

How could you ever hope to find this anywhere else? How were you ever supposed to recover from this stubborn crush if Joel was the place you felt most like home?

“You OK?” Joel asked, hovering toward the top of the stairs, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants.

“Yeah,” you smiled and gave Puck a scratch and let yourself have the feeling. “I’m good.”

You got up early the next morning, Joel barely awake enough to help carry your bags to the car.

“See you New Year’s Eve,” he said, his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants and his hair in total disarray. “Better have that damn book done by then.”

“Do you really think you can write an entire book in a week?” You asked, brows raised.

“I dunno,” he said. “You’re the smart one, you tell me.”

You rolled your eyes and he laughed a little.

“Alright, I’m goin’ back to bed,” he said. “Text me when you get there, have fun being a genius.”

“Hey,” you called to him as he made it halfway back up his walk. He turned to face you, frowning slightly. “Thanks. For being my friend.”

An expression you couldn’t place passed over his face before he smiled a little.

“Careful,” he said. “Talk like that enough, people might think you care about me and shit.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” you said. “See you in a few days.”

He watched you drive off and you made your way to the hill country and the cabin Stephanie had reserved for you. You’d insisted that it have extra bedrooms and a hot tub and were surprised that she hadn’t pushed back on it.

“Whatever you need to get the job done, you’ve got it,” she said after sending you links to some cabins. “I’m just here to facilitate.”

You stopped on the way for groceries, stocking up so you wouldn’t need to leave the house once you settled in. You went with most of your standbys for cooking for one and watching the careful diet you’d been on for years but then thought of Joel bringing you tamales and plying you with cookies over the last few days. Maybe he was right. Maybe you did need to live a little. You got the stuff to make the bagel sandwiches, too.

The cabin was damn near idyllic, all stone and wood with huge windows looking out at the brush leading down to the lake in the backyard. The hot tub was set on the back porch, a fire pit in the yard and rocking chairs out front. The kitchen was large and reasonably well equipped and there were enough bedrooms that Joel, Tommy and Sarah could have their own when they all joined you for New Year’s Eve. There was even a desk set up near a window that overlooked the water and you set up your laptop and charger and got out your notebook with the pen from your Christmas stocking, arranging everything just so.

“Alright,” you said to no one after you got the groceries put away and made yourself a cup of coffee before settling in at the desk to write. “Let’s do this.”

And… you tried. You really, truly did.

Day one, you got most of an outline done. Enough of one that you went to bed feeling somewhat accomplished and felt good treating yourself to a bagel sandwich in the morning. But then, when you sat down to work on the next part for day two, you weren’t sure you liked any of it anymore. You pressed on, anyway. Day three, you tried to write the first chapter and you made some decent progress, at least feeling like you were getting to know the characters a bit as you settled into the story. But, day four, you read what you’d written the day before and wanted to claw your way out of your skin. What were you doing? Why did you think you could do this at all? Had you ever made anything worthwhile on your own? Why would you suddenly be able to do it now?

The text came through when you were taking a break for lunch, desperately avoiding the gnawing feeling of failure after days of accomplishing fuck all when you really had no excuse not to. You sighed and opened your texts, fully expecting from Joel or Anna or even Stephanie.

It wasn’t.

Hey Doll

You dropped your fork in shock and it clattered to your plate as you blinked at your phone in total shock. He was texting you. Why was he texting you? He hadn’t texted you in months, not since you’d left Rhode Island. Why now? Did you want to know? Could you resist knowing?

Hi Gale

You propped your phone up against your half empty can of Diet Dr. Pepper and stared at the screen, waiting for the next shoe to drop.

It didn’t take long.

How’ve you been doing?

Your hand shook as you replied.

Alright. I like the new school. You?

He responded almost instantly.

Not bad. Was just thinking about you. Miss you.

You froze, your heart in your throat.

He missed you. How could he just say that? The collapse of your marriage had been one of the most painful things you’d ever gone through, happening in slow motion as he pulled further and further away and you desperately tried to dig your nails in to keep him close. You’d all but begged for him to miss you for years and now he was just texting it to you out of the blue. How could he just say that? How could you pretend like it wasn’t what you wanted to hear?

You went to his Facebook page and checked his relationship status, one of the upsides to being with an older man meaning that his social media presence was pretty limited. He was still listed as in a relationship with Carla, a woman he’d met in much the same way he’d met you. The thought made your stomach churn, that you’d been so easily replaced by the younger, thinner, prettier version who had been dropped on his desk, practically gift wrapped.

You went back to the texts.

How’s Carla?

There was a longer pause that time.

She’s not you.

“Jesus,” you said, setting the phone down and closing your eyes for a moment. You tried to think, forcing yourself to be practical. This wasn’t the time or the place to be having this conversation. You couldn’t have this conversation, not when you’d just been sitting her wondering if you could do the only thing you’d ever felt like you were supposed to do without his help.

I don’t want to talk about this now. I’m in the middle of working on my book. Maybe another time.

You stared at the phone, waiting for him to respond. He never did.

“Yeah, sure seems like you missed me,” you muttered, finishing your salad and cleaning up from lunch, settling back in at your desk to write for the afternoon, trying not to think about the very real possibility that your writing career had ended when your marriage did.

“I’m losing my mind over here,” you said, breaking down and calling Joel on day five. “There’s only so much I can say to a wall, you know.”

“We’re comin’ your way tomorrow,” he said. “Be praying for some peace and quiet once Sarah and Tommy are there, trust me. Still like pecan praline ice cream, yeah?”

“Blue Bell?” You asked.

“Course it’s Blue Bell,” you could hear him roll his eyes through the phone. “What kind of animal you take me for?”

“Oh, my apologies…”

“Anything else you can think of?” He asked. “I can always stop on the way, too, but it’s easier while I’m here.”

“I still think it’s silly to buy ice cream an hour away and then drive it out here,” you said.

“That’s what coolers are for,” he replied. “Stop finding shit to worry about. Just give the writing one more shot, see how far you get. Who knows, you might surprise yourself.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you remembered your texts with Gale the day before.

“Goldie,” Joel said, tone serious. “That all that’s on your mind?”

“Stop trying to read my thoughts,” you said.

“Tell me,” he said. “Or I’ll show up early and make you.”

“That a threat?”

“That’s a promise,” he said. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Gale texted yesterday,” you said, fidgeting with the handle of your coffee mug, the coffee itself going cold an hour ago.

“Gale?” Joel asked, tone sharp. “Fuckin’ Gale? The fuck did he want?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “I’ll show you the texts when you get here, maybe you can translate them for me since he’s not making any damn sense.”

“That asshole better not be making any trouble,” Joel said. “I will find him and kick his ass, Goldie, just say the word…”

“I know you will,” you laughed a little. “But don’t worry about it right now. And I should let you go…”

“Yeah, go write your book,” he teased. “Change the world and shit.”

There was a knock at your front door and you frowned, staring at it. There was a window to the side of it but all you could see was a shadow.

“Hey, Joel?” You said. “Hang on one second, there’s someone at my door.”

“What?” He sounded serious now. “Were you expecting anyone?”

“No,” you said quietly, approaching it slowly and trying to see through the frosted glass. You couldn’t make out who it was. “So just stay on the line and make sure I’m not axe murdered…”

“Need me to come out there now?” He asked. “If you ain’t safe…”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” you said, unlocking the deadbolt. “Probably just a neighbor, but…”

You opened the door and peered out through the crack, phone clutched against your head.

You still almost dropped it.

“Hey Doll.”

***

“Hi Gale.”

Joel’s heart dropped.

“Gale?” He said, pressing his phone tight against his head and trying not to yell in the middle of the line at the HEB. “Fucking Gale? He’s there?”

“I have to go,” you said quickly. “Talk later.”

You hung up before he had a chance to say goodbye. He tried calling you back but you ignored it.

Joel stood there, staring at his cart for a moment, his head swimming.

Was he freaking out because it was you and he didn’t want you alone at some romantic looking cabin with your ex-husband? Was it because he knew that you weren’t in a place to handle this right now? Was it because he knew - knew - that your ex was a goddamn predator?

He’d bitten his tongue about that fact since you’d been back, that the man you’d married had been more than twice your age and you’d only been a legal adult for all of a month when he’d met you. It didn’t matter that it was you, that Joel had gone searching for you and found you there with him all those years ago, he’d want to beat the shit out of a man like that regardless of who it was. A man like that couldn’t be trusted.

He especially couldn’t be trusted with you.

Joel checked out as fast as he could, calling Tommy as he drove.

“Hey, need you to do me a favor,” he said quickly.

“You always need me to do you a favor,” Tommy said. “One of these days I’m gonna cash in.”

“Yeah, who got you the only job besides the army you’ve kept longer than a week?” Joel asked.

Tommy sighed.

“Fine. What’s up?”

“Need you to take Sarah tonight.”

“Joel, come on!”

“M’serious,” Joel said. “Goldie’s ex just showed up at the fucking cabin…”

“Oh, not that fucking asshole from the funeral,” Tommy cut him off.

“That’s the one,” Joel said.

“Fuck that guy,” Tommy said. “He needs to stay the fuck away from her.”

“Yeah, somethin’ tells me he ain’t gonna make that choice on his own,” Joel said. “So I need you to pick up Sarah and take her for the night. And bring me my shit tomorrow. I’ll text you the address where Sarah’s at, she’s at her friend’s playing right now, needs to be picked up about five…”

“Yeah, I got it,” Tommy said. “Go save the day.”

Joel drove as fast as he dared, not familiar enough with where cops liked to hide to go too fast. He pulled up in front of the cabin you’d sent him the information for a week and a half earlier. He’d have admired it, in another circumstance. He’d always wanted a place like this, someplace quiet where there was enough space to live a little, maybe hunt. A place where Sarah could run and play and get to know nature a little.

But in that moment, he was too pissed to take it in.

He grabbed a bag out of the trunk - pretense more than anything else - and stalked up to the door before knocking on it, his fist coming down in heavy thuds on the wood.

You pulled open the door, a surprised look on your face and your ex-husband at your back.

He looked just about the same as Joel remembered him from before. Tall but not as tall as him, a refined air about him that made Joel want to deck him, a smug look on his face. His hair was gray and his face was wrinkled and Joel fucking hated him.

“Joel,” you said, staring at him. “What are you…”

Joel did the only thing he could think to do, fucking Brad standing so close to you with a hand between your shoulder blades like he fucking owned you.

“Missed you too much, baby,” he said, watching your eyes go a little wide at the word. “Couldn’t wait until tomorrow.”

He reached out and cupped the hinge of your jaw, his fingers wrapping around the back of your neck and he tugged you closer, his heart beating so fast he was sure that your fucking ex could hear it.

But he didn’t care.

All he cared about was the way your lips felt on his when he kissed you.

Next Chapter

A/N: I mean we can all agree, fuck Brad/Gale.

But also... his presence does get results.

THANKS FOR PUTTING UP WITH ME! Love you!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #slow burn #halcyon

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avastrasposts · 1 year

Text

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 35**

I wrote this while on holiday so any mistakes I blame on sun stroke and cocktails! This is the second to last chapter! I'm not ready! Chapter 36 will be the last chapter and then I've got an epilogue planned. How will I say good bye to these two!? Please enjoy what's left 😭

Series Master List

Chapter 36- Warnings have their own post - Word count: 10.4k

The night passes quietly, and you watch the sunrise over the eastern horizon across the river while Frankie sleeps in the tent with baby Jack. As the sun starts to warm up the cool prairie air, you make some breakfast, dreaming of the days you could have coffee, and hear Frankie stir as Jack begins to cry. You listen to your husband soothe him, and with a pang of longing you wonder if Frankie makes the same soft cooing sounds for Jack as he did for Lucía. Frankie had told you years ago that he’d been petrified when Lucia was born, he’d been in such a bad state and not able to enjoy having a baby girl. But he’d grown into such an incredible dad by the time you met him, it was hard to imagine him being anything but a proud doting father.

The zipper of the tent slides open and Frankie crawls out, Jack held tight to his chest with one hand. The boy is staring up at Frankie’s beard and as you watch, Frankie carefully gets to his feet and smiles at Jack, dipping his chin low enough so that one chubby little hand can come up and grab at the scruffy hair.

“Ouch, you little scoundrel,” Frankie chuckles, “you’ve got some grip in those tiny hands.”

You smile and hand Frankie a bowl of ravioli as he gently sinks down next to you, “Careful, he’ll give you another bald patch,” you tease and Frankie rolls his eyes at Jack.

“Listen to her, going after my poor beard now, as if she doesn’t love my bald patches.”

“True, I do love them,” you lean forward and press your lips to the one on his right jaw, “pull harder, Jack.”

The baby gurgles happily in Frankie's lap, reaching up for the beard again.

“I’ve prepared some food for him too, I cut up the ravioli,” you pick up the bowl, “do you want me to feed him while you eat?”

“No, I’ll do it, if you wanna pack up the tent?”

“Sure, I’ll pack up,” you give the bowl to Frankie and you can’t help but smile as he takes it, barely looking at you as Jack grabs his finger and blows a spit bubble. In all your years with Frankie, in an increasingly hard environment, you’d never have guessed that a little foundling baby would be the thing that made your husband melt into a puddle.

As you take down the tent and roll up the sleeping bags you listen to Frankie talk to Jack, an endless stream of baby nonsense. When the baby swallows the last bite of food, Frankie praises him, gently wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. As you put Frankie’s pack next to him, he wraps Jack into the makeshift kangaroo pouch and ties it around his chest.

“I’ll take him, since you carried him all day yesterday, rest your shoulders today, cariño,” he says, adjusting Jack’s legs.

“Are you sure? You’ve got a pretty heavy pack,” you say, slipping one of Frankie’s socks onto Jack’s head to protect him from the sun.

“Yeah, if you take the rifle today it’ll be fine.”

…

The three of you keep walking west, the endless prairie slowly giving way to more hills and trees. Far off in the distance you can see the high peaks of the Rocky Mountains, impossibly high in the clear air. At the end of another long day of walking you’ve climbed up, away from the prairie and into low hills that slowly stretch up towards the high mountain range to the west. While you rested at midday you’d actually managed to run down some sort of chicken, it looked fairly domesticated and Frankie guessed that chickens must’ve escaped from farms after the outbreak and multiplied. Whatever it was, you managed to wring its neck without getting too squeamish and hang it from your backpack.

You feel like you’ve crossed all of Wyoming on foot when the sun finally starts dropping and nothing worth noting has crossed your path since you left the pick up, no infected, no people, only animals in the distance. The farms and houses you’ve passed have been empty and mostly looted, people have passed through here before you but it’s impossible to know when. You realize finding Jack’s uncle will be like finding a needle in a haystack, if the group he was with even got as far as Wyoming, it seems unlikely you’ll meet anyone out here and maybe that’s for the best..

At sundown you make camp a mile from the road you’ve been following. It’s far enough away from anything that Frankie risks a campfire and grills the bird you’d caught whole. Even Jack can eat the tender meat when you cut it up and he even seems to enjoy it.

“I’ve been looking at the map,” Frankie says, bringing it over to the campfire so that you can see, “and I’ve got a couple of options, tell me what you think.”

You lean into him as he spreads the map out onto the ground in front of you. “There's a place up here, about five miles from the road.” He points to a spot on the map, “It’s got a small river running next to it, the mountain on one side and this open valley on the other side. It’s marked as a private ranch on the map key. It could be what we need. But there’s another place,” he moves his finger and points to a place much further north, “it’s another twenty miles into the mountains, up this valley that we’re in.”

“I’m guessing there’s a good reason why you want to walk another twenty miles?” you say, looking at the long stretch of land that lies between you and the spot Frankie’s fingers is resting on.

“Yeah, this place is a small hydroelectric dam. If we get there I could probably get it up and running and we’d have actual electricity, heating, hot water.” He looks up at you with an excited smile, “I was thinking about it today, even if it doesn’t work now, I could fix it somehow and the place is so remote, it’s bound to have all the equipment needed on site. I know it’s a long shot, but it’s only another half days' walk, with a potentially huge reward.”

You look at the dam location, tucked away at the river mouth, a few miles from the main road. Plenty of fish in the lake probably, and open land full of game, provided you’d be able to craft something to hunt with.

“It looks like a better location than the ranch, but probably a bigger risk of infected, if the people who worked there didn’t get away.”

“Yeah, that’s the main drawback,” Frankie says, “we’d have to be very careful clearing it out.” He’s tapping the map thoughtfully before he looks up at you. “It’s up to you completely, if you don’t want to risk it, we go with the ranch, live settler style. Maybe that is the better option, safer for now at least.”

“The dam could attract other people too, if they have the same idea as you,” you say and Frankie nods.

“Yeah, there’s always the risk of other people too, although, so far Wyoming seems pretty empty to be honest.” He folds up the map, “We’ll sleep on it, see how we feel tomorrow, we could just go check out the ranch first, it’s almost on the way.”

Behind you Jack shifts and begins to cry and you pick him up, tucking him into your arms.

“I’ll set up the tent and take the first watch, cariño, see if you can get him to go back to sleep.”

“He’s usually asleep by now, maybe he got a tummy ache from the food,” you stand up and start rocking him the way you used to rock your nieces when they were babies. The thought makes you wince, over the years you’ve come to terms with all the people you lost when the outbreak happened, your parents, siblings, friends. But sometimes, when you do something that reminds you of them, it’s like touching a piece of glass inside your chest and the cut is fresh. Gently bouncing on your feet you try to remember how old they’d be by now but you get stuck, in your mind they’re forever little girls, just slightly older than Lucía.

Jack just won’t settle, his cries cut through the still night, no matter how much you and Frankie try to soothe him. Even Frankie’s beard goes untouched, the tiny fists clenched hard as Jack wails in Frankie’s arms. It feels like he cries for hours, sleeping is out of the question, you can’t shut your ears to Jack’s crying and you’re starting to worry that anyone or anything in the vicinity will hear and come to investigate.

“Give him to me,” Frankie suddenly says, handing you the rifle, “I had an idea, my abuela once told me I had tummy aches as a baby every time I’d eaten and she’d hang me over her shoulder.” He gently takes Jack from you and hangs him, belly down, over his shoulder. His large hand holds Jack steady as he gently begins to rock on his feet and you walk around his back so that you can see Jack’s face. He’s still crying but as Frankie moves back and forth he seems to calm down a little.

“Keep going, I think it’s working,” you say and Frankie starts walking circles around the fireplace while you keep watch around the campsite. There’s a new moon in the clear sky and you look up at the thin sliver and all the bright stars. You’ll never get over how bright they really are once you’re out in the countryside. When the world came crashing down it took a long time before you had the peace of mind to sit in the dark and look at the sky. It wasn’t really until you were out on the boat, sailing from New York, that you’d noticed them again. Now you search out familiar constellations and find the North Star. Behind you Jack is finally quiet, you can hear Frankie gently humming a lullaby you don’t recognize.

“Arroz con leche me quiero casar, con una señorita de Portugal….” and he hums a few notes, the words forgotten, before you hear him sing again, “Con esta sí, con esta no, con esta señorita me caso yo.”

You turn and smile at him and you hear a branch snap behind you, fear shooting through your veins like ice. Your heart drops into your stomach as you swing round, raising your rifle towards the sound, you suddenly see several shadows moving in the corner of your eyes. You hear Frankie rush up behind you, his back against yours as he turns and scans the dark forest.

“Lower your guns, there’s more of us than you,” comes a man’s voice from in front of you as several people step into the light of the campfire, guns raised. You can see at least five of them, and from the footsteps behind you, at least another five you can’t see.

“Lower your gun, cariño,” Frankie says, his voice low, “and take Jack.”

You give Frankie a scared look as you lay your rifle on the ground and take the baby from him, tucking him into your arms, one hand protectively cradled over his head. Frankie raises one hand and slowly pulls his gun from the back of his pants with the other, laying it down on the ground.

“Step away from her, five steps back,” the man barks, jerking his head at Frankie.

“We don’t want any trouble,” Frankie says, “We’re just passing through, the baby was ill.”

“Step back,” the man snaps, taking a step forward and raising his gun, aiming at Frankie. You look over your shoulder at Frankie, he gives you a small nod.

“It’ll be fine,” he says, slowly backing away from you.

“Have you been around any infected?” the man asks and behind him you see a woman stepping forward, a German Shepard on a leash.

“We haven’t seen anyone since we left Nebraska,” Frankie says, “no people or infected.”

“If you’re lying the dog will sniff it out and rip you to shreds,” the man keeps his rifle on Frankie and nods to the woman to unclip the dog. It growls and runs over first to you and sniffs around your legs before padding over to Frankie and doing the same. Satisfied that neither of you are infected, the woman whistles the dog back..

“We’re looking for a man named Jack,” you say, before the man with the rifle has a chance to decide what to do next, “We found his sister in Nebraska, she’d escaped from slavers with her baby boy,” you nod down at baby Jack in your arms. “She was dying and asked us to find her brother and bring her son to him.”

You see how the woman with the dog and the man exchange a look, a blink of recognition, before the woman speaks up.

“The woman, her name was Julia?” she asks and both you and Frankie nod.

“Yes!” you exclaim, “Do you know her?”

The man with the rifle holds up his hand but the woman answers anyway, “Did she say what Jacks’ last name was?”

“No...” you hesitate, “she only said the boy’s name is Jack Connolly and that he was named after her brother. He was heading to Wyoming with a group of people.”

“We were heading for White River,” the woman replies, “Jack, his last name was Connolly too, was with us until two months ago. I’m sorry, but he died.”

“We didn’t know him,” Frankie says, “and we didn’t know Julia either, but I’m sorry to hear he died. It would’ve been nice to bring baby Jack to his family.”

“Juan,” the man with the rifle says, looking at a man somewhere in the tree line, “don’t let them move, I need to talk to Maria.” He motions to the woman with the dog to follow him back into the trees, out of earshot. You glance over at Frankie who’s still standing five steps away from you and he gives you a small smile, but you can see the concern in his eyes.

You look back down at baby Jack, sleeping in your arms now. You had been thinking about the possibility of not finding his uncle, and then you and Frankie would have to take care of him, but it had been a vague ‘what if?’. Having a child of your own with Frankie had never been an option ever since the outbreak, not even in the relative safety of Arlington or Boston. But taking care of an orphan child who really has no one else, that seemed like a very easy decision to make when you were faced with it. But Jack was never yours, you were only taking care of him until you found his family. But now? If his uncle was gone, you felt responsible for him, for the promise you’d made to his mother. Looking down at him, you couldn’t help reflecting over how strange it felt to suddenly be an adoptive parent of this little boy.

The man and the woman called Maria come back through the trees and wave Frankie and you over.

“Alright, I’m Patrick, this is Maria. Sorry about the curt welcome committee, we can’t be too careful about people out here.”

“Yeah, we get that,” Frankie says, taking Patrick’s outstretched hand. “I’m Frankie and this is my wife.”

You shake Patrick’s hand and then Maria’s, giving them your name.

“You seem like decent people, and you have Jack’s nephew to care for, so we’d like to give you two options,” Maria says, looking between the two of you, “We have a settlement not too far from here, you’re welcome to come with us and seek shelter. We’ll have to confiscate your guns until we know we can trust you and we’ll expect you to help out with whatever you can. If you don’t like it, you’ll be free to leave whenever you want.” She looks at you and then down at Jack sleeping in your arms, “But I think that once you see how the community works, that you’ll be able to keep baby Jack safe, you’ll want to stay,” she smiles at the little boy, as he stirs in his sleep, his little hand waving free from the blanket. “He actually looks like his uncle, does he have blue eyes too?”

“Yeah, he does, big blue eyes,” you smile, looking at Jack and tucking in his arm again.

“So what do you think?” Patrick asks and you glance over at Frankie, it sounds almost too good to be true, but if this is the group Jack’s mother wanted you to seek out with her son then maybe it’s worth a shot.

“What’s the second option?” Frankie asks.

“We leave you to fend for yourself out here, no hard feelings. But we would prefer it if you came with us. Every person we leave out here is a potential infected down the line.”

“But we’d really like you to come to Jackson with us, especially seeing as you have the baby. Jack was a good man and we’d like to make sure his nephew is safe,” Patrick says and from the corner of your eye you see several of the other people nod.

“Can I talk to my wife in private for a minute?” Frankie says and Maria nods and steps back a little with Patrick. Frankie takes your hand and you walk to the other side of the fire.

“What do you think, cariño?” he asks in a low voice, his fingers threading between yours.

“I think it might be worth the risk to trust them,” you say, “They seem genuine.”

Frankie nods, “I think it might be our best chance at getting to a safe place, even if our plan was to get somewhere safe just you and me.”

“But with baby Jack, we could really need a community, it’s not just you and me,” you say, stroking your hand over the baby’s head. It’s only been a few days but you’re already feeling very protective of him.

“Yeah, and about him, with his uncle dead, I guess it’s on you and me to take care of him? Are we gonna be his parents?” Frankie looks down at Jack, you can see his eyes soften as gently caresses the rosy cheek with his finger.

“It’s not how I imagined this ending but I don’t think I could give him up now, could you? I feel responsible for him after what we promised his mother.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking the same,” Frankie says, looking back up at you, “So I guess we’re parents now and we go with Maria and Patrick? At least to check it out? Hopefully they meant what they said about us leaving if we don’t want to stay, but I think we can risk it?”

You nod and together you walk back to others.

“Alright,” Frankie says, “We’ll hand over our guns and come with you. We feel responsible for baby Jack and it seems you might be the option to keep him safe.”

Maria nods, “I’m happy you think that, I hope you’ll wanna stay with us once you see what we’re building.” She turns and waves forward a younger man, “Ned, get Winston please, if you can ride with Nellie on the way back these two can ride him with the baby. She turns back to you, “Winston is a very steady and gentle horse, he’ll keep you safe on the ride back.”

The horses had been left out of earshot of the camp and you’re delighted to see a small herd of them once you’ve packed up. Winston turns out to be a large bay horse who lets you reach up and stroke his soft nose while he nickers gently. Frankie swings himself into the saddle with ease and a happy look, giving the horse a pat on the neck. You hand Jack to him and Maria helps you hang your packs on the side of the saddle before you get on behind Frankie.

“All these years, Frankie,” you smile as the group sets out, “and I never knew you were such a cowboy.” You’ve got your arms around his waist, Jack is safely tucked into the makeshift pouch on his chest.

“My uncle had horses,” he says, “and he taught me how to ride, just haven’t done it in years, but it’s like riding a bike.” He clicks his tongue and Winston sets off, following Maria and Patrick’s horses. “How about you, are you ok back there?” he gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah, I’m ok,” you bury your nose in his soft shirt, holding on to him, “I was never a great rider but I know how to stay on at least.”

“Just hang on to me, cariño, Winston and me won’t let you fall.”

The ride back to the group's camp only takes a couple of hours, Maria and Patrick leading the way cross country rather than following the road. The sky lightens and Maria rides up next to you and points down a hill towards a large lake.

“That’s Jackson,” she says, “and that’s the dam we’re trying to get fixed. If we manage we’ll have electricity.”

“That’s the dam we saw on the map, cariño,” Frankie says, “We were thinking about coming here and seeing if it was fixable.”

“Do you know anything about how hydroelectric dams work?” Maria asks, raising her eyebrows at Frankie and he shakes his head.

“No, not really, not more than the theory of it. But I’m used to fixing a lot of different things, I used to be a pilot before the outbreak.”

“I don’t want to get into it now, but we will have a conversation with the two of you later about what skills you have that can be useful for the community,” Maria says as the group rides up a large gate set in the wall surrounding the town. “But for now, let's get you settled, it’s been a long night for us all.” She waves to the men guarding the gate and someone on the inside pulls it open.

“We’ll put you up in one of the empty houses for now, we’ve cleaned them all out and there’s sheets and pillows in most of them.”

You look around you as the horses pass through the gate. The sky is light, the sun almost up, and it casts a golden glow over the western themed houses. Maria points down the street and you see a wood barricade at the end of it.

“Down there is the rest of the town, we’ve only walled off this smaller area so far, it was already a gated community so we built on the existing walls.”

“Is the rest of the town cleared of infected?” Frankie asks and Maria nods.

“Yeah, we had to do it bit by bit, but we cleared the last house a month ago. But it’s outside the wall so it’s not completely safe, we still get infected wandering in sometimes.That’s why we have guards and patrols to handle them and any potential raiders.”

She leads you to the stables and you dismount, Ned comes over and takes Winston’s reins.

“I’ll get him dried off, just go with Maria and get settled,” he says with a smile and Frankie slides off, one hand on Jack and then gives you a hand down. You yawn wide as you get down, the sleepless night is catching up with you as you feel safer.

Maria leads you to a small house near the outskirts of the gated community and opens the door.

“This will be your place for now, or at least if you decide to stay with us,” she says, motioning you inside. “There’s no food here, come to the mess hall for that. But try to get some rest first, there’s a crib for Jack in one of the upstairs bedrooms.”

“Thanks Maria, we’re very grateful for your help,” you say and she gives you a quick nod.

“I’m sure you’re hoping you didn’t make a mistake in trusting us, and I’m hoping we didn’t make a mistake in trusting you,” she says, “We’re a small community and we need decent people to keep this place safe and thriving, I hope my gut feeling about you two is correct.”

“It is, we’re just looking for somewhere good and safe to settle down, even before we found baby Jack,” Frankie says, “If you are who you say you are, we’ll be happy to help build the community.”

“Good, that’s great to hear,” she says, moving towards the door, “I’ll see you both later today, there’s firewood outback if you want to heat up water and clean up.”

With that she leaves, closing the door behind her, and you find yourself alone with Frankie in a house, a safe house, for the first time in years.

“Hermosa,” Frankie slides his arm around your waist, “you look dead on your feet, c’mon, let’s sleep before we do anything else.”

You nod, yawning big again and letting Frankie guide you up the stairs to the second floor where you found what looks like a master bedroom. The house looks well preserved despite all the years it’s been abandoned and there’s pillows and sheets with thick blankets on the bed. It looks very inviting and you groan at the sight of it. Sliding off your backpack you sit down on the bed while Frankie smiles at you, bouncing Jack on his arms. He’d woken up during the ride but now he’s yawning again.

“I’ll find the crib for Jack,,” Frankie says, “Just go to bed, cariño, I’ll be right there.”

You give him a grateful nod and start unlacing your boots and peeling off your clothes. Everything you own is grimy and unwashed but you find your least dirty t-shirt and change into it. As you pull back the sheets Frankie comes yawning through the door.

“The crib is in the room across the hall,” he says, “Jack fell asleep instantly but I left the door open so we’ll hear him if he wakes up.”

“Hopefully he’s as tired as us and we can get a few hour’s sleep,” you yawn, sliding into the bed as Frankie starts pulling off his clothes. It doesn’t take him long to climb in next to you. You yawn again and Frankie pulls you into his arms, tucking your head in under his chin.

“Sleep, hermosa, I think we’re safe here for now,” he whispers, running his fingers through your hair and you feel yourself slip into sleep without even trying. The last thing you register is Frankie’s lips against your cheek.

When you wake up a few hours later you think for a minute that you’re in a dream. You’re warm under the covers, Frankie’s arm is wrapped around your waist and you can feel his shallow breaths against your neck. The bed under you is soft and a shaft of sunlight is filtering in through the closed curtains, hitting a painting of a mountain landscape. You let your eyes drift around the room and take it in as you slowly remember where you are; Jackson, a safe place at last.

Frankie stirs behind you, tightening his grip around your waist, “Morning, cariño,” he mumbles and pushes his nose into your hair, inhaling and kissing your neck.

“More like ‘afternoon’,” you smile, reaching back and threading your fingers through his curls.

“Mhmm…I slept like a log,” he rolls over and stretches out, pulling you with him so that you end up half on top of him. You lean your chin on his chest and trace your fingers through his scruffy beard.

“Me too, and it seems like Jack did too,” you mumble, kissing his chest as he strokes your hair. And right on cue, Jack whimpers from the room across the hall and begins to cry.

“I’ll get him,” you say, pushing yourself off the bed, “he’s probably hungry, it’s been hours since he ate.”

“I know how he feels,” Frankie mutters, “I’m starving, we should see if we can give him the last of the spagettios and then go to the mess hall Maria mentioned.” He sits up and shoves his fingers through his curls, making them stand on end.

While you get Jack and get him to stop crying, Frankie gets the camping stove out and heats up some food.

“Hey, look,” he calls from downstairs, “someone’s left some supplies on the porch.” He comes in with a bag as you bring Jack down. “Looks like some clean clothes both for us and Jack, and some diapers.” He holds up some reusable diapers, “they’ve thought of everything.”

He comes over to Jack and gives his little belly a poke, “did you poop your pants, little man? Yeah, you did, I can smell you.” Frankie chuckles as Jack giggles and squeals. “Do you wanna do food or poop?” he asks you with a grin and you immediately hand Jack over to him.

“Food, you’re on poop duty,” you reply, grinning back at him and Frankie makes a grimace.

“Knew you’d say that, cariño,” he sighs, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Too late now, Frankie,” you laugh and grab the last can of spagettios from his backpack.

Frankie starts cleaning up Jack as you warm the food and when Jack’s got a clean diaper on Frankie comes over.

“I was thinking about what Maria said before,” he says, setting Jack down on the counter and holding on to him, “About everyone doing what they can to help out this community.”

“You’re thinking about what they’ll say if you tell them about your background?”

“Yeah…” he trails off, watching Jack open his mouth for a first spoonful of pasta. “I’m not going to tell them about the PTSD or the drugs, it’s none of their business and I’ve got it under control. But if I tell them about my army background, they’ll want me to do patrols, and I’d like to do that, if you’re ok with it?” Frankie looks over at you, his eyebrows drawn together in that slightly worried look.

“I can’t imagine doing patrols and guard duty here is anything like what it was like with FEDRA, Frankie,” you say, putting your hand on his arm, giving him a reassuring squeeze, “And if you start feeling it, please Frankie….” you gently take his chin between your thumb and finger and give him a little tug with every word, “You’ve. Got. To. Tell. Me.” You look into his warm brown eyes and he gives you a crooked smile.

“I know, no more hiding things,” he nods, taking your hand from his chin and pressing his warm lips to your palm, “I promise, for real this time.”

“Good. Because we didn’t just go through all that shit and travel halfway across the country for you to do all of that again,” you smile as he pulls you in by your hand and leans his forehead against yours.

“I promise, I really, really mean it, no more lies, no more hiding, I’m going to be what you deserve now, cariño.” He dips his head and finds your lips, one hand still holding on to Jack who’s gurgling happily on the counter, the other slipping around your neck and holding you just as close as the little boy.

Once Jack is fed and changed you heat up some water on the old wood fired stove. The old house you’re in has a modern kitchen but both the living room and the kitchen have the old fireplace and stove and plenty of firewood stacked next to them. You light a fire and Frankie gets water from the hand cranked well outside. It’s not exactly a hot shower or bath but it’s warm water to wash in and you take the chance to wash some of your clothes too, hanging them to dry in front of the fire before you leave for the mess hall.

The mess hall is easy to find, it’s the largest building in the old gated community and used to be the community center. Someone has made a rough wooden sign and it hangs over the door of the western style building. Frankie holds Jack on his hip, his other hand holding yours as you walk down the main street towards the hall. You can’t help but glance at Frankie and Jack. It’s almost hard to believe the change that Frankie’s undergone in just a few weeks since you left Boston. The withdrawals had left him haggard and tired looking, and you know he’d struggled with the more psychological symptoms longer than the physiological symptoms. But traveling further away from Boston had changed his mood and with the added responsibility of Jack, a child to care for, you started seeing a version of Frankie that you hadn’t seen since before the outbreak. You don’t think he’s even realizing it himself but you’re seeing how he’s slowly turning back into the dad he was to Lucía, treating Jack like a son even though he might not be ready to see him as such. At least not yet.

Now he bounces Jack on his hip, tickling the boy's chin as Jack happily gurgles up at him and you see Maria smiling at the two of them as you enter the mess hall.

“Hey there, I was wondering when you’d show up,” she says, coming over and smiling at Jack who gives her a toothless grin.

“Thanks for the supplies,” you say, “I’m guessing you had something to do with that?”

“Yeah, I thought you might need some things to feel a bit more human after traveling for as long as you have.” She gestures to a cantina set up at one end of the room, “Have some food and come and sit down with us.”

You grab some bowls of rich looking stew and say hello to the woman overseeing the cantina. She’s delighted by Jack’s gurgling smile and gives him a small bowl of fresh blueberries that she mashes up with some honey.

“Someone kept bees in one of the gardens before the outbreak,” she says, “so we now have a huge bee colony and more honey than what we know what to do with.”

You thank her and join Maria and Patrick at a table in a corner of the mess hall. The stew is warm and hearty, and you have to pace yourself or you’ll inhale it, hungry as you are by now. Maria and Patrick let you finish your food before Patrick leans forward and leans his elbows on the table.

“So, you seem like decent folk, but I’m sure you understand we’d like to know a bit more about you now that you’ve had a chance to see our community.”

You both nod and Maria looks at you, “Where have you come from?”

“Originally, when the outbreak happened, Arlington, a town down south. But we’d been in Boston for about five years by the time we left.”

“What made you leave? You’re a long way from Boston and it’s a dangerous journey,” Patrick glances between you and Frankie and Frankie answers first.

“Have you heard of a group that calls themselves The Fireflies?” he asks and both Maria and Patrick nod, “They were causing a bit too much trouble in the QZ. They blew up a guard station, a truck, and FEDRA responded as you can imagine, making life very difficult. So we decided to leave.” Frankie glances over at you and takes your hand and rubs little circles into your skin, “We met a year before the outbreak, she’s been my wife for over ten years and I wouldn’t have survived without her, luckily for me she was willing to risk it all and come with me when it became necessary to leave Boston.”

Frankie’s telling a truncated version of the story behind why you left but for now, there’s no need for anyone to know anything else.

“She used to work the civilian radio in Boston and we know the Fireflies are making trouble all across the QZ’s so at first we just planned to get away from Boston and find an isolated farm and try to survive on our own, how long that would be didn’t really matter, as long as she was with me.” Frankie continues to tell the story of your journey across the Midwest, ending with how you found Jack and his mother and how you stole the slavers’ pickup.

“We’ve heard about slavers from some of the people who have joined our community,” Maria says, “the outbreak really brought out the worst kind of behavior from certain people.”

“We’ll certainly make use of your radio skills,” Patrick says to you, “there’s a radio tower nearby that we haven’t managed to fix yet, we need to fix the dam first, but you might be able to help us with the radio when it comes time for that.”

You nod, “I can fix most things on the particular model we had in Boston, if we have the right parts, but Frankie’s the real fixer.”

“What have you worked with, Frankie?” Maria asks and you see Frankie inhale, there’s so much trauma connected to what he did both before and after the outbreak, and you take hold of his hand, squeezing it lightly, giving him your support, and you can tell both Maria and Patrick senses the tension.

“Before the outbreak I was retired from the army,” Frankie begins, trying to keep his hand from nervously shooting up and rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m ex special ops, Delta Force, I was a helicopter pilot, a soldier.”

You can see Maria and Patrick exchange a quick glance and Patrick nods, “I’m not gonna lie, Frankie, we live under constant threat of raiders and infected here, to have someone with your background on our side would be a great help.”

“I realize that, and so did FEDRA, they recruited me in exchange for letting myself and my wife stay in the QZ we got to at the beginning of the outbreak. But I didn’t stay with them for too long, their ways of doing things…” Frankie trails off and shakes his head. “So, we,” he glances at you, “did what we needed to do to stay alive. We both smuggled, got stuff into the QZ’s we were in both for our own survival and benefit. But we did good too, I hope,” he looks at you again and you nod.

“We did good, Frankie, you know that. We brought in medicine and supplies that FEDRA was denying the population.”

“Everyone here has lived under FEDRA rule,” Maria says and Patrick nods in agreement, “we know all too well what it’s like. I don’t judge you for being smugglers, as long as you’re good people.”

You feel Frankie tense up at the last words, but he bites his tongue as you squeeze his hand.

“We stopped smuggling a while back though,” he says instead, “I couldn’t handle the risk it put her in,” he looks at you and his eyes soften as you smile at him, “and then, when it got more dangerous, I didn’t want to risk leaving her behind alone if something would happen to me.”

“Well, we don’t need smugglers here, but we do need good guards and we all take turns doing guard duty or go on patrols,” Maria says, “We run this place like a commune, everything we have is owned by everyone, and we share the resources we bring in.”

“I’m in charge of the hunting parties,” Patrick says, “so if either one of you is a good hunter, let me know. We eat mainly meat that we trap or shoot, but it’s hard work feeding everyone.”

“Our crops are starting to ripen, we’ve worked hard all year to cultivate local crops and we hope to have greenhouses too at some point. But for that, we need electricity, so that’s our first priority,” Maria explains, “but we’ll give you some time to settle in today and I’ll show you around tomorrow.”

“Frankie, if you don’t mind, can I take you up to the dam tomorrow?” Patrick asks and Frankie nods.

“Yeah, sure, whatever works for you,” he replies, “If you’re ok with taking Jack tomorrow, cariño?”

You nod and Maria reaches over the table and strokes the baby’s hand, “We don’t have any babies here, yet at least, but we hope that Jackson will be safe enough for people to raise families in the future.” She looks up at you and Frankie and seems to hesitate, “I know you two accidentally became Jack’s caretakers, but I get the sense that you’d like to continue to care for him?”

You both nod, “We feel responsible for him now,” you say as Frankie puts a protective hand around Jack and smiles at him, “and we did promise his mom to keep him safe, at least until we could find his uncle, and with him gone, that feels more important than ever.”

“What happened to his uncle?” Frankie asks, looking up again and Patrick grimaces and shakes his head.

“It was two clickers, three of us were clearing out one of the last houses in Jackson, outside the gated community, and we'd killed three runners and heard nothing else. But they were inside a shed in the yard and came rushing out as we approached. Jack was unlucky, got bit as we took them down.”

“We’ve been here just over six months now and we’ve lost three good people to raiders and infected,” Maria says, “and it never gets easier. But we’ve learned a lot from each death, we’re safer now, better guarded.”

“Sorry to hear it,” Frankie says, “but you seem to have built up a good perimeter defense, judging by what we saw when we rode in.”

“I would love to have your eyes on it, Frankie,” Patrick says, “give us some advice on improvements.”

Maria gives a low chuckle, “Give the man a break, Pat, he’s been here all but two minutes and you’ve already commandeered his time.”

“It’s alright,” Frankie said, shaking his head, “No problem at all, if we’re staying here I’m more than happy to help out in any way I can to keep this place as safe as possible.”

“Speaking of staying then,” Maria says, smiling at you and Jack now, “why don’t you have a wander around Jackson, and see what we have to offer. It’s not big but I think it’ll give you an idea about what we’re trying to build here and we’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you say and Frankie nods, shaking Patrick’s offered hand.

“Welcome to Jackson.”

It doesn’t take you long to see all of Jackson, the community is clearly very small but like Maria had said, you could see what they were planning. People were working on a number of projects around the small gated community and the park in the center had given way to crops that looked almost ready to harvest. The garden of one of the biggest houses has been converted into a stable yard and a stable is almost fully built up against the wall that surrounds the community. You say hello to Winston and Ned, who turns out to be the one responsible for Jackson’s horses.

At the furthest end of the small town is the slaughterhouse, where fresh game has been brought in by two women and hung up, the blood trickling from two white tail deer.

As you wander back towards the house you’re staying at, Frankie hooks his arm around your waist and pulls you close.

“This all feels very…normal,” he says, “like maybe they have a chance at making this work.”

“Normal, apart from the infected and the raiders?” you say, looking up at the high wall that surrounds the small community, guards with rifles patrolling at the top.

“Yeah, but Maria and Patrick seem to have the right idea about how to run this place, so maybe they can make it work,” Frankie glances around the small town, “It’s kinda like the settlers in the old west. You were somewhat safe in the towns but it was dangerous to travel outside them. The biggest problem with what’s happened after the outbreak isn’t the infected, it’s how FEDRA handled the situation.”

You’ve arrived at the house and Jack’s fallen asleep so you put him down and join Frankie out on the porch.

“So what do you think?” he says, pulling you down onto his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Do you think we should stay here and make a go of it?”

“I think so, Frankie, if you think you’ll be alright with patrols and guard duty?”

“Yeah, I think so…” he rubs his hand up and down your back, looking out over the small street the house is on, “It’s not for FEDRA, it’s for this place, for you and for Jack, to help keep you and this place safe.”

“I think you’ll be able to help them a lot too, you can use your skills for something that really makes a difference for this place.” You run your fingers through the curls at the back of his head, long enough now for you to wind around your fingers. Frankie’s looked away from the street and is looking at you, his warm brown eyes soft as he smiles up at you.

“And they have sturdy doors on these houses,” his hand has drifted up from your back to wrap around your neck and he’s gently pulling you closer to his lips. As you smile the pink tip of his tongue comes out and licks his plush bottom lip, you don’t even need to feel the bulge growing under you to know what he’s thinking about. You press your lips against his as he pulls you closer, his mouth opening to let you in with a low groan.

“Cariño,” he mumbles, “this is all I ever want,” his hand presses against your back as he deepens the kiss, “you and me in a quiet place where I can give you everything you deserve.”

“You deserve it too, Frankie,” you mumble, his hand tangling in your hair as his tongue slips in between your lips. You can feel him nod under you but you lose all train of thought as he bucks his hips under you.

“Fuck, hermosa…” he mutters, “we need to move inside or our new neighbors…”

You pull him up, take his hand and slip through the door while he wraps his arms around you from behind, kicking the door closed with his foot.

“Bring Jack upstairs and put him in the crib,” you say, as Frankie starts kissing your neck, pushing your hair out of the way.

“Do you really think we’ll make it upstairs,” he mutters, his hand already tugging at your t-shirt, slipping it under it and pushing under your bra.

“We have a kid now, Frankie,” you chuckle, “no sex in front of the baby.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he grumbles and pulls away from you, keeping it decent as he picks up Jack, carefully to not wake him, and follows you upstairs. Once Jack is safely nestled into his crib and the door closed but with a crack open in case he wakes up, Frankie comes into your bedroom with a smirk.

“You’re gonna need to be quiet or you’ll wake him and alert the neighbors, and I’m gonna make sure you really wanna scream my name, cariño…” he wiggles his eyebrows at you and you hold your finger up to him.

“Francisco Morales, you wouldn’t dare,” you wave the finger threateningly in front of him as he stalks across the room, making you back up until your legs hit the bed, his grin is lethal, all wicked intentions and mischief.

“Just let me take care of you, mi hermosa, mi amor de mi vida,” he croons, slipping his hands around your waist and gently pushing you back onto the bed, making you crawl up towards the top as he bends his head and starts kissing every inch of skin he can reach while peeling off your shirt, quickly followed by your pants. When his wide shoulders pushes your legs apart you groan and fall back against the sheets. You can feel his hot breath against your core as he settles down and grabs your thighs, kneading them and letting his fingers caress the soft skin.

“Frankie,” you sigh, reaching down and threading your fingers through his curls.

“Fuck…” he grumbles, “I’ve missed this, this sight, this smell, cariño, you’re so fucking sweet,” without warning he dips his head and runs his tongue through your folds, a long deep lick that ends at your clit. The sensation explodes through your nerve endings and you arch your back up, pressing your hips against his mouth.

“Did you miss this too, hermosa?” he chuckles, looking up at you from between your thighs, a smirk on his face, but before you get a chance to answer he dives back down, tasting every part of you as his nose circles around your clit but never really touching. The teasing makes you moan, canting your hips up against him and he pins you down with an arm over your middle.. When he slips in two fingers you’re already on the edge, with a whimper you cry his name, trying to keep your voice down. He pumps them slowly, curling them back as his lips seal around your clit. You glance down at him and he’s got his eyes on you, his black eyes are glowing as he watches you pant, your body taught as a bowstring.

He lifts his head slightly, his mouth hovering just over you and every one of his breaths sends tremors through your body.

“Come on, let me feel you come on my mouth and then I’ll fuck you, I wanna feel you around my cock so badly, cariño, you have no idea how hard I am…” he grinds his hips into the mattress, dragging the tip of his tongue over your clit again. His words and his eyes, still burning up your body makes you groan, barely able to keep looking at him. As his lips close around your clit again, ramping up the pressure, you throw your hand over your mouth, biting down hard on your lip as you moan. When you fall over the edge his fingers almost stop moving as you spasm around them but the rough pads keep pushing you through every wave that crashes over you. Frankie doesn’t let up, his tongue flicking over your clit as heat courses through your body until every muscle in your body relaxes and you fall back against the bed.

“So fucking good, cariño,” Frankie moans, trailing sticky kisses along the soft skin of your thighs, moving up to your hips, resting his head there and looking at you as he caresses your skin.

“Come up here and fuck me then, Frankie,” you mumble, reaching down for him and he groans, hiding his face against your hip, sucking a mark into you, making you hiss under him. His tongue comes out and soothes the mark before he sits up and quickly pulls off his shirt and pants before crawling up the bed, hooking his arm under your knee as he goes. He’s painfully hard and weeping, you can feel him drag over your leg, the contact makes him exhale sharply and he grabs his cock firmly. He slides the tip through your sensitive slick folds as he bends down and slips his tongue between your lips. You feel the familiar stretch of him as he pushes the blunt head into you, forcing your knee up higher and grinding his way deeper.

He gasps as you involuntarily clench down around him, “Bebita…fuck…so tight..I…I can’t fucking move…” With a deep groan he pulls out a little before slamming in deep again, making you bite down hard on your lip to stop yourself from crying out. Your arms come up around his neck and pull him down closer as he begins to move in earnest. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and moves in and out, slow at first but soon he picks up pace, groaning over you as his own high draws near. The familiar tingling is building inside you again as he hits a spot deep inside and he can feel you starting to tremble around him.

“C’mon…please…again, hermosa, fuck…” he pushes himself up on one elbow and looking down at you, his sweaty curls hanging over his forehead as his hand slides down and grabs your hip, “I’m…fuck…” he drops down with his forehead against yours, his eyes squeezing shut as your climax explodes through your body and you feel him follow, grinding deep. Both your moans mix in the air, all attempts at keeping quiet forgotten until you collapse on the damp sheets.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his face against your neck, “I came inside you, is it ok?”

“Yeah, I would’ve stopped otherwise, I forgot to tell you it was ok,” you mumble, kissing his damp forehead and pushing back his curls. As you start caressing his hair, scratching his scalp he snuggles deeper into your neck and sighs contentedly.

“I missed this so much, cariño,” he mumbles, “you and me, a bed, nothing else.”

“And a sturdy door?” you smile as his arm comes up around your body, his hand resting on your breast as his thumb lightly strokes across the nipple.

“Yeah, a sturdy door with a lock,” he nibbles at your neck, pressing light kisses along your jaw until he settles down again, humming under his breath.

“I wish there was some way we could let Will and Benny know about this place,” he says after a while. “It’d be good to have them here if they could make the journey.”

“Yeah, I miss them, and Eve and Diana,” you sigh, “and I think Maria and Patrick would love to have two more ex Delta Force guys here.”

Frankie rolls over, pulling you with him so that he can pull your back against his chest and wrap his arm around your waist, “We’ll keep an eye out, maybe we’ll figure something once we fix the dam,” he kisses the back of your head, tucking you in under his chin, “sleep now, cariño.”

…

Patrick comes by next morning and knocks on the door as you’re finishing up breakfast. Frankie grabs his pack and leaves after giving you a kiss and dropping a peck on Jack’s head. He makes you smile when you hear him give the baby instructions to behave and be a good boy for tu mamá .You hadn’t even thought about yourself as his mom, Julia was still his mom, but you guess Jack would have to call you something once he started talking, and Frankie seemed to have settled on mamá for now. It made your heart warm to hear his affection for the little boy, finding him and his mother had maybe been very lucky for you and Frankie, as well as for baby Jack.

For the first time in years, Frankie didn’t feel worried about leaving you behind as he left and went outside the safety a wall entailed. Jackson felt safe, not just because of the wall, but because of the people on the inside. He glanced back up at the gate as it closed behind him, it looked strong and sturdy, and the guards on top were alert.

Patrick, or Pat as he asked Frankie to call him, had brought a group of men and women on the short ride across to the Jackson dam. As they rode Pat pointed out how they’d started building a wall that would circle around the dam structure too.

“That way we won’t have to worry about raiders cutting the electricity once we get it up and running, or infected getting in,” he says, “both possibilities are something we have to take into account whenever we go to the dam now. We have to clear the dam compound every time.”

This time there’s nothing in the building or around it, and Pat leaves three guys to keep watch on the wall over the main entrance.

Together the crew looked over the different components and Pat explained to Frankie what parts they’ve been having problems with. It took them the better part of the day to figure out that something is blocking one of the mechanisms deep inside the dam, then another hour to find the right maintenance hatch and get it open. The tell tale sound of a clicker comes up from the deep hole as they wrench the hatch open. Ladders, however, seem to be something, infected can’t handle so it’s not too much of an issue to shoot the poor dam worker through the head as he scratches against the wall under the hatch. For good measure Frankie and Pat toss a few rocks into the maintenance tunnel and lower a flashlight to lure out any remaining infected. When they deem it safe enough Pat carefully climbs down while Frankie and another man, Walter, cover him.

“Alright, all clear down here,” Pat’s voice comes back up from the tunnel and Frankie climbs down, followed by Walter.

They follow the tunnel down to the entrance in the dam wall and climb out, spotting the problem immediately. A large mess of plastic scraps and synthetic rope has tangled into the mechanism and it takes an hour to clear it without creating further damage. Eventually the machinery turns smoothly and Walter remains behind as Frankie and Pat climb back up to the main operating room.

“Now, if we’ve done everything right, things should work now, and the first turbine will start generating enough electricity to start the main turbines and produce electricity for the town,” Pat hoover his hand over a button and gives Frankie a tight smile, “So far, this hasn’t worked once, so fingers crossed, Frank.”

He pushes the button and in the distance they hear machinery kicking into gear, running for a few seconds before shutting down.

“Fuck…” Pat mumbles, scratching his head, “that’s more than we’ve had before but I don’t know why it shut down.”

“It sounded like it started fine but short circuited,” Frankie says, “Let me open up and check behind the console.”

“Let me know if you need anything, I’m gonna go check on the turbines,” Pat says, leaving Frankie to grab a set of mismatched tools and pry open the console. He sees the issue as soon as he opens it, a thin tendril of smoke is rising from one of the wires, the insulation has corroded and it’s touching another wire. It’s a matter of minutes to rewire it and make sure the inside is protected from any dampness. Once the dam is up and running the heating will keep this dry and protected.

“Pat,” Frankie calls, “I’ve fixed I think, let’s try it again.”

Pat comes back and motions to Frankie to hit the button, “Do the honors, you’re the one who fixed the last bit.”

“Here goes nothing,” Frankie grimaces and gently pushes the button again. This time the machinery kicks into gear, running smoothly for a couple of minutes until a louder rumble starts up, the main turbines starting to turn and suddenly, making both men startle, lights flood the room their in, lights go on all over the console and static starts pouring out of an abandoned radio on the window sill.

“Oh shit! It worked! It fucking works!” Patrick yells, punching the air before clapping Frankie on the shoulder with a big grin. From the outside they can hear yells of delight from the other men and women of the work party. They go out to join them, leaning over the edge of the dam and watching the water pump through the turbine hall and the lights in the lamps lining the edge flicker to life.

“All the cables feeding electricity to Jackson are underground so we’re hoping they’re unharmed, the town should have electricity now!” Pat says, grinning widely, “Come on, let’s head back and make sure everything’s working.”

Three of the guys are staying behind to keep guard and make sure the dam runs smoothly, they’re to be relieved in a few hours, for a night shift.

“We can’t leave the dam unguarded now,” Pat says, “and we might need to do something about the lights, black them out for now, so that we don’t draw too much attention to it.”

When they get back to the Jackson gate people are waiting for them, you’re there with Jack on your hip. The lights in the house had suddenly come on, a few of the light bulbs immediately broke, but the fridge started humming and the tv buzzed to life with loud static that startled Jack enough to make him cry. You had to run around and turn as much as possible off, checking what worked and what didn’t. The hot water boiler seemed to be working just fine and was full of water that was slowly heating up. Even the radiators came to life, warming the house. Maria had shown up a little while later, on her way to the gate.

“Let’s go greet our returning heroes,” she laughed, “I can’t believe we’ve got electricity!”

All of Jackson turned out, forming a crowd just inside the gate and everyone cheered as the work party, led by Pat, rode into town. Frankie quickly found you in the crowd, grinning wildly as he came over, his horse in tow.

“What a welcoming committee;” he grinned, bending to kiss you and then Jack.

“How does it feel to be a town hero on your second day, Frankie?” you laugh, hugging him tightly as he took Jack from you, putting him on his hip.

“Feels good, feels like coming home, cariño. Feels like coming home.”

Chapter 36

If anyone reading knows how a hydroelectric dam actually works, don't tell me all the mistakes I made, I'm playing fast and lose with the technical details here!

I'm also kinda playing lose with any abandonment issues Jack should, realistically, have after being taken from his mother at six months. But I'm excusing that by thinking that he probably didn't get to spend too much time with his mother anyway, in my mind Julia would've been forced to work straight after giving birth and Jack was left behind whenever the slavers wouldn't let her bring him to whatever work she was made to do (seriously, the last part of The Last of Us 2 is horrifying, it gives a very nasty view into how a slaver's camp worked in this world).

The song that Frankie sings to Jack is called Arroz con Leche and is a well known Latino lullaby. You can hear the version Frankie sings if you look for Arroz con Leche sung by Soleada Arboleda on Spotify!

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa @jwritesfanfics @vickie5446 @your-slutty-gf

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales fanfic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #Frankie morales smut #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier fanfic

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good-beanswrites · 5 months

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Fe Aspec Week Day 4: Acceptance

This week on I Accidentally Made Myself Sad With My Own Angst :( As much as I know Forsyth would be the most accepting person in all of Valentia, I think his own insecurities/mindset would cause a bit of tension during his childhood with Python. It has a happy ending but I wanted to explore just a bit of that first...

“Python!”

Forsyth’s tiny hands trembled, clutching the gift that he’d bought with his very own money. His father didn't need to know.

Python scrambled down the big oak tree to meet him. He tugged at the dress his father probably made him wear for the holiday. His hair had already come loose from it's braid, likely caught on the twigs and leaves of the tree. Forsyth waited anxiously at it's base for him to come down.

When he arrived, Forsyth shoved the box forward. He startled both of them with the force of it.

“I – I – I have this. For you. Will you – I mean – I would –” Forsyth’s cheeks burned red. It was clear what he was asking. There would be no other reason you’d give someone a perfectly wrapped package of sweets on the Day of Devotion unless you were asking them the question.

Python looked down at it. The two had been friends for so long, it took only a second for Forsyth to understand exactly what it meant.

“Oh…” He felt his stomach twist up in a knot. His throat started to constrict. “I know Father doesn’t like you, but he doesn’t much like anyone. S-so we can make it work!”

“Fors…”

“We could keep it a secret!” Then, in desperation, “we could – we could run away together!”

“Fors!” Python whined. “C’mon, you know we’re too young for that!” With one hand he took the chocolates, and the other took Forsyth's arm. “We’re supposed to be climbing trees and playing pranks on Teacher – not doing gushy grown-up love stuff.”

Forsyth bit his lip. He didn’t think it was gushy at all. He didn’t trust his voice to speak; with one word he may just start bawling right here. The last thing he needed was to be scolded for being so emotional.

Python beamed as if he hadn’t just shattered Forsyth’s heart into a million pieces. “Let’s just take it slow, okay? We’ll have plenty of time for all that when we’re older, okay?”

He coaxed a small nod from Forsyth.

“Speaking of! I heard Teach left the schoolhouse window open – have I got the perfect plan! We’ll share the chocolates after, okay? You’re my best friend, we should split them.”

I don’t want to split them. Forsyth let himself be tugged along. I wanted to give them all to you. To give everything to you.

He grit his teeth as they ran. He wasn’t the type to accept defeat after a small setback like this. So, Python wasn’t ready. That was fine. One day he would be. And Forsyth would be there. It was like every book he’d read: the steadfast knight would get the beautiful lover, if he was just patient enough.

He said a quick prayer to Mila, that one day they’d stop being friends, and true love would win out.

—

“Python!”

Forsyth’s hands trembled, his fists balled up in fury.

“I am sick and tired of this.”

“Oh you’re tired of this? Then quit fucking confessing every single year. Every year it’s the same speech, and the same shitty plan to run away together. We’re not in some fairy tale, Fors. Just give it up.” Python moved to take a sip from his drink, turning his back. Though they’d both come of age, it wasn’t ale. Though it wasn’t ale, they both spoke as loudly as if they’d each had a barrel to drink. It was a good thing Python’s father was out all night; there was no one in the tiny house to hear them argue.

Forsyth grabbed the cup away before he could take a sip. It earned him a hard look, but a direct one. “I’m not tired of confessing, I’m tired of this type of disrespect!” He placed the drink down a foot away. “You can’t just be honest with me and tell me why I’m not good enough for you – it’s infuriating!”

“I am honest. I’ve told you, this has nothing to do with you. It’s me who–”

“Oh-ho, don’t give me that tired cliche! Every year, it’s another cryptic excuse, another roundabout lie!” He flung his hands in wild gestures, his voice pitching. “You say you’re not ready for commitment, yet you spend every day with me regardless. You say you would make a terrible housemate, yet you stay over at my home for weeks at a time. You say you’re not ready to be with someone, yet I catch word that you shared a bed with the innkeeper!”

“What, you jealous or something?”

“That is exactly what I am. And how dare you act like I’m the crazy one for it!” Tears threatened his eyes, but he pushed through. “I have been by your side your entire life, looking out for you, caring for you, giving all of myself over to you! And here you are, laughing in the face of my love! Like - like it’s another one of your jokes!

“Oh, you're jealous, huh? So is that why you do it? You do all that for me just to get laid at the end of the day? Well if you’d said that sooner, I would have happily –”

“You know that’s not what I meant!”

“Then what do you mean?”

“It doesn’t make any damned sense, Python!”

“It does, if you would just pipe down and listen when I –”

“Pipe down?”

“Yeah! If you’d let me finish a damned sentence this will all make sense!”

“Fine then, go ahead and finish – give me one good reason why you don’t want to be with me!”

“When you’re acting like this I could give you a hundred!” Python swatted his cup away, spilling the drink all over the floor. He stormed out of the room.

A heavy silence fell over the house. Forsyth gathered his things. He left. He finally let his tears fall.

It was simple, he decided. All he needed to do was accept the fact that this relationship was going nowhere. Python didn't love him, and he'd just need to imagine whatever reasons he could. They should simply end things before they got any more hurt.

End our friendship...

He cried through the night, unable to even muster a word to Mila.

—

“Python!”

Forsyth’s hand was steady as it took the man’s shoulder. The pair locked eyes.

“Run away with me.”

The wind rustled the leaves overhead. Usually the area was bustling with chaos as the new building was erected, but Python was the only one to stay back today. Forsyth would have teased him for the irony, if it hadn’t presented him with the perfect opportunity to ask his question.

Python rolled his eyes. “Har-har. I thought today was Day of Devotion, not Flostym Fools'…”

“Huh?” Forsyth’s expression flashed with confusion, then horror. “O-oh! Not like that, of course! Oh gods, I meant… the Deliverance.”

He spread his hands. “It’s clear we’ll never get the approval we seek to join. So I propose we do it in secret. Everyone will be distracted by the village festivities tonight. If we don’t come home right away, everyone will assume it’s for… the festivities. It will give us a reasonable head start. We won’t need to worry about them catching up to us by the time they finally realize we’ve gone.”

He looked eagerly to Python.

“Heh, using all the hype around love to make our escape... you’re a true ally after all, Fors!”

Forsyth’s look soured. “L-listen. I swear, I would never ask you that again. I mean, we got over that years ago. I nearly lost you to that argument, and I shall never make the same mistake again. I know how much pain I put you through, and I would never dream of –”

“Hey. I know. You had a lot on your mind, then.” He let out a loud sigh. “Which is why I’m gonna come along with you. Somebody’s gotta help you find that special someone, right?”

“Do you mean it? Wait, what is that supposed to mean?”

With a hearty laugh, Python pulled him into a hug. Forsyth held him close. Reality may not follow a path like the perfect little fairy tales he read as a child, but that made it no less perfect.

“So… that’s a yes?”

Python leaned back so he could study his face. “You’re really serious about this, huh?”

“W-were you not?”

“Eh, I’m not serious about anything…” He offered his hand. “But I’m in. I’m always in.”

Forsyth accepted it, clasping it within both of his. He found himself too choked up for words, though he didn’t care if anyone saw him cry. He wiped tears from his cheeks and smiled at Python’s kindhearted teasing.

He thanked the gods that they would never stop being friends.

#fe aspec week #fe echoes #fe python #fe forsyth #forsython #i got a little carried away asfsdf this ended up much longer than intended (whats new 💀)#as someone who reads forsyth as a hopeless romantic its just something i think was important to explore between them #but LMAO i literally made myself so upset writing their argument i was just sitting there going NOOOO stop fighting ;------;#i would have included trans python anyway because i really like that - but also it shows that forsyth truly is accepting #its specifically the fact that hes fallen in love that turns it into an insecurity issue instead of an acceptance one here #and once he realizes that (after their big fight) hes able to get over his own personal stuff and really be there for python #sorry i got a bit cheesy with the section parallels 😅 im a sucker for that but even i can admit it was a bit much this time #i know they wouldnt have the same terminology in fantasy-medieval stuff but 'ally' just fit so perfectly and i hope wasnt too jarring

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sophierequests · 2 years

Text

tree decorating // holiday event

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Request

Pairing: Genya Safin x gn!Reader

A/N: My bbg Genya <333

Summary: Genya helps the reader with decorating the Christmas tree.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 700

Warnings: None

“This looks absolutely atrocious.” You almost dropped the box full of ornaments when Genya’s voice suddenly materialised behind you. Quickly, you stepped off the wonky stepladder in order to prevent yourself from falling down and embarrassing yourself even more.

“Why thank you, that was my plan all along,” you mumbled, earning a distasteful look from your girlfriend.

“Weren’t Tolya and Tamar supposed to decorate the tree?” she laughed, finally entering the room fully to take in the absolute chaos you had produced.

“The key word is ‘supposed to’, Nikolai needed them to help him with whatever scheme he’s trying to get done behind Zoya’s back.”

“And the next best choice was you?”

“Hey!” you replied, giving her a slight jab to the shoulder. “That’s so unfair, I’m not even done yet. You can’t judge my tree decorating abilities before seeing the finished product.”

“I can and I will, darling. This much tinsel makes the tree look way too cheap.” She stepped closer to the tree, her brows furrowed as she inspected the tree further. “These candles are entirely too close to the branches. And here I thought Harshaw is the biggest pyromaniac in here. Saints, have you ever decorated a tree?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll do it again if that’s what makes you happy. Now, do you mind letting me get back to what I was doing before you rained on my parade?”

“Absolutely not,” she replied sternly, removing some of the ornaments and lights you had attached only minutes earlier. “I’m not letting you do that alone. You’ll need some sort of artistic influence to keep you on track.”

“Don’t you have literally a hundred over tasks to attend to?” you asked quizzically, opting to help her with picking apart the tree again.

“Yes, I do. But I also have a partner with zero decorative intuition, so that issue is a bit more pressing.”

With that, the two of you began to remove every single one of the ornaments and other decorative items you had already added prior to her appearance. Even though you were kind of disappointed to see all your work be for nothing, you had to agree that it looked absolutely terrible. You really weren’t one to have an eye for these sorts of things.

“Wait, do people genuinely put gingerbread men on Christmas trees?” you questioned in disbelief as she pulled out a pretty ancient-looking cookie from the box of decorations on the floor.

She eyed the figure with a slight hint of disgust, turning it over in her hand a few times before eventually tossing it over her shoulder. “Some do. We are not these people.”

This spiel went on for almost up to an hour. Genya rummaged through every box available, pulling out ornaments, dried fruits and what felt like a thousand other things. Whenever she found something she thought to be suitable, she handed it to you, giving you at least a little bit of artistic freedom before telling you whether she was content with where you put it or not.

“We only have the star now, don’t we?” you inquired, impatiently climbing off and onto the first step of the ladder.

“Yes, I think this one would look quite good with the rest.” She held up a bright golden star that - obviously - fit in perfectly with the general aesthetic of the tree. “And stop doing that. I won’t catch you if you fall.”

You quickly snatched the star from her hands, going up the ladder a few steps to place it on top of the tree. You wanted to turn around to get a look at your partner’s expression, but as you did so, the stepladder shook violently underneath your feet. This caused you to lose your balance for just a split second, tumbling backwards before you even realised what was going on.

Genya reacted quickly, her arms immediately wrapping around your waist to ease the blow. Both of you ended up in a messy pile of limbs on the cold floor of the common room, however, mostly unharmed.

“I thought you didn’t intend on catching me?” you groaned, rolling off of her with a faint chuckle.

“I didn’t want your blood to ruin the tree. We worked too hard on it.”

Taglist:

Grishaverse fics in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light

Genya Safin: @maximoffgxrl

#genya safin x reader #genya safin imagine #genya safin #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse fanfic #grishaverse #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone

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beautiful-songbird · 2 years

Text

The Strings of My Heart [19] - Unearthing the Past

← Chapter 18 | Chapter 20 →

Pairing: Zoro x Jupiter

Genre: fluff, angst, f2l

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: mentions of trauma

Summary: Zoro’s moved to sunny California for college to escape from the life of fame for a little while. But when he loses his violin case in the second week of school, he’s sure his college experience has just gone up in flames. What will he do when, despite all odds, his case is returned to him?

—————

Zoro was glad for the break that came with the Thanksgiving holiday. For his family, it was mostly just an excuse to get together and eat. Eat a lot, that was. That was followed by Black Friday, where his grandparents went to cut down their Christmas tree. He’d be joining them this year. It wasn’t often he was in town during November, but he did remember the couple times he’d gone to get a Christmas tree with them. He’d been ten the last time he really remembered doing it.

Admittedly, the drive down to Temecula was awfully boring alone. He’d discovered this in February when he’d driven down to escape Jupiter’s parents and the memory of the airport, but he’d been too panicked to care then. Now, he was wishing he had Jupiter to accompany him like she had in the summer.

Oliver was out the front door the moment Zoro pulled up to his uncle’s house.

“You’re here! You should change and come down to the beach with us.”

“Ollie, get back inside! Let Zoro breathe!”

Zoro climbed out of his car just in time to see Luna waddle down the front path. His eyes widened.

“I haven’t seen you this pregnant in five years,” he laughed.

She groaned. “Don’t remind me. I’m so tired of being pregnant, but I still have a whole month to go.”

“When’s the baby due?”

“Your dad’s birthday. Isn’t that funny?”

“That is funny,” he chuckled.

Oliver tugged on his hand. “Come on, Zoro. Go change! It’s half an hour to the beach.”

“You do know I’m staying with Grammy and Grandpa, right?”

“I don’t care!”

Luna nodded towards the house. “Kohen’s gonna be here soon to pick us up. We’re headed down to Carlsbad.”

Zoro sighed. “All right, fine. I’ll come. Let me go change.”

◇◆◇◆◇

Zoro was crammed into the back of Kohen’s dinky car with Oliver not fifteen minutes later.

“I wish you’d told me you were headed there. I drove through Oceanside on my way here.”

Luna winced. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you were coming to our place first.”

“Grammy and Grandpa said they wouldn’t be home until six, so I can’t go there yet.”

“Oh, that’s right! They had a meeting with someone.”

“Luna, tell him the news,” Oliver prompted.

“News?” Zoro asked.

“We’re getting married in March,” Luna smiled.

“Wow! That’s coming up quickly!”

She nodded. “We would’ve done it sooner, but planning a wedding in a month isn’t really something you can do.”

“You’re one to talk,” Kohen laughed. He glanced at Zoro. “She wanted to have it before the baby is born. I said no, because there’s no way we can get all our family into town in less than a month!”

“He had a good point when he said it would be much easier to find a wedding dress without a pregnancy belly,” Luna laughed. “Do you think you could come, Zoro? We’re having it on the sixteenth.”

“I’m flying out the next week, so I don’t see why I couldn’t come a bit early.”

“Flying out?”

He nodded. “I’m staying with Jupiter for Christmas, so I told Mama and Appa I’d come home for Mama’s birthday. I’ll be missing Jupiter’s birthday, though….”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Her birthday is two days after my mom’s. Or three, if you count the time zone difference.”

“I can’t believe you’re missing your girlfriend’s birthday for your mom!”

“Are you kidding me?” he asked. “You’d skip your mom’s birthday if Kohen’s birthday was around the same time?”

Luna pressed her lips together. “Why can’t you just take Jupiter with you?”

“She has work, and all her siblings would miss school. Besides, flying with nine little kids would be a disaster.”

She sighed. “I’m glad I’m not you.”

He chuckled ruefully. “You should be glad for more than one reason.”

“Don’t look at me like you’d prefer to be me! Try getting pregnant twice while you’re single.”

“I don’t think I can try that.”

She tossed a towel at his head. “You know what I mean!”

◇◆◇◆◇

Zoro found himself sitting at his grandma’s island that evening after an exhausting afternoon of chasing Oliver around Carlsbad. Luna couldn’t keep an eye on him, and Kohen insisted on staying with his fiancée.

“Ollie wore you out today?” Grammy asked with a laugh.

Zoro nodded. “I didn’t know what I was signing up for when I agreed to go with them. We walked two miles just to get ice cream! And then we had to walk back!”

“What? Is four miles too much for you?”

“Not really, but it was too much for Ollie. I had to carry him halfway back. That was too much for me.” He laid across the chairs at her island. “I never would’ve imagined doing this in November.”

“Are you going to Korea for Christmas?”

“No. Jupiter’s the main caretaker for her siblings now, and I’m not about to take nine kids to Korea with me.”

“Good choice. We never used to go on flights when your mom and aunts and uncles were younger.”

“Uncle Ryan was probably the main problem there.”

“You’d be surprised. It was Sophie.”

“Really?” Zoro asked, pushing himself up so he could make proper eye contact with his grandma.

She laughed and nodded. “When we moved out here, we took a plane. Sophie was five, and she screamed for half the plane ride. We didn’t go on another plane until she was thirteen, and the only reason for it was because your mom’s roommate was throwing her a birthday party.”

“Aunt Indigo?”

“Yep,” Grammy nodded.

Zoro laid himself back down on the chairs and sighed. “Well, anyway, I’m spending the holidays with Jupiter and her siblings. We’ve already decided to not go down to Florida. That’s where her aunt and her mom’s cousins live, apparently. I am honestly not ready to see her aunt again, and I don’t really think she is either.”

Grammy hummed to let Zoro know she was listening.

“It feels stupid that I can’t face her, you know? That was ten years ago, and she’s a heck of a lot smaller than me now. She’s not even in New York, and I can barely bring myself to be there even for Jupiter. The airport is still terrifying, but I’d never tell her that. I think she figured it out, though.”

“Maybe you need to see her to put your fears to rest,” Grammy suggested.

“I’ve thought about that. It’s just….”

“So scary you feel paralyzed?”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

“That’s how trauma is. And it seems that nothing you’ve tried so far has let you fully let go of that. You haven’t seen her since you were nine, so to you, you’re still tiny and helpless compared to her. I think that now, seeing what little power she has over you would really help.”

“It would. I just don’t know what I’m afraid of, really. I can’t figure out if it’s her or the airport or just anyone having the potential to do that to me again.”

“It might be all of those things together, Zor.”

“Yeah. I don’t know what to do about it, though.”

“I think that when you’re ready, you need to face Jupiter’s aunt with Jupiter. I can’t tell you that it’ll fix the problem fully, but I think it will help.”

“I’ll think about it. Thanks, Grammy.”

◇◆◇◆◇

December seemed to roll around in the blink of an eye, and Jupiter was giddy as she anticipated her boyfriend’s return. Her mother and the baby had been home for almost two months already, and getting guardianship had been significantly easier than she’d expected. Almost everything seemed right in the world again. Except, there was a small part of her that missed her dad. She wasn’t sure why she missed him. He’d never been around, and even when he had been, he hadn’t paid much attention to her at all. They hadn’t had a good relationship in years.

On the other hand, she remembered the father that he’d used to be. She didn’t remember much, but before Venus was born, Jupiter’s father had given her all the attention that her mother neglected to give her. He’d been harsh in the workplace, but there was the occasion that he’d take her out for ice cream and treat her like a normal little kid. They’d chat about life, or he’d tell her how well she’d done in her training that day.

Nothing like that had happened in the past eleven years, but Jupiter still missed the man her father had once been, even if that once was only for a few minutes each month.

Regardless, Jupiter went on with life as if nothing had happened. She had a company to run and siblings to take care of. Not to mention Zoro would be staying with them for a few weeks before his apartment would be ready, so she needed to get ready for him. That probably only entailed finally taking those glow-in-the-dark stars off her ceiling. Zoro had seen her house is various levels of disarray before and had never commented on it.

Jupiter was halfway to being disappointed that Zoro wasn’t moving in with them, but there really was no space for him. He’d been sleeping in her bedroom for the whole summer while she’d taken her parents’ bedroom, and now that her mom was back, they couldn’t do that.

Another odd thing was that her mom had been acting almost normal for the past couple months. She actually paid attention to more than just the baby, and she’d even helped cook dinner a few times. It was overall a very odd experience to see her mom acting more like a mom than just a nanny for the baby. She was definitely still partially absent, though.

◇◆◇◆◇

Zoro was jittery as he packed his apartment up on the last week of school. Truthfully, he could’ve stayed for a few weeks longer, but he knew Jupiter needed him, and spending Christmas alone seemed like an awfully depressing thing to do when he was already not going to see his family for the first time on the holiday.

As he made one last check of the apartment to make sure he’d taken absolutely everything, he frowned. He’d spent over a year in this dinky apartment, and he was sad to leave it behind. So many memories had been made in these rooms, and now he’d be leaving this place for good. He and Jupiter had studied here many times and had little dates together, she’d surprised him for his birthday, they’d practiced their instruments together, and so many other little things that he would never forget. He supposed the important thing was that he still had the girl. The apartment could go.

He stacked his many suitcases into his trunk along with a few boxes full of valuables. If he thought flying here last summer had been ridiculous, he was about to spend four days on the road just to drive to New York. He had too many things to fly to New York, and he wanted to keep his car.

He walked around his apartment one last time to bid it goodbye before turning his keys in. The good thing was that he didn’t have people to say goodbye to as well. He’d never really talked to any of his neighbors.

He had one last lunch with Peyton before leaving.

“Man, I can’t believe you’re moving to New York right after I moved away from there!”

Zoro laughed. “At least one of your parents will be living in New Jersey, right? You can visit me while you’re up there.”

“Yeah, but who knows when they’ll sort that out,” he rolled his eyes. “Both of them will probably live up there after everything’s said and done, but they’re still fighting over it! I want to tell them to just sell the house, split the money, and buy two smaller houses! They wouldn’t listen to me if I did, though.”

“Well, if you ever want to come visit, just let me know. I’ll have a couch in my apartment you can crash on if you’d like.”

“Awesome! I don’t know how I’d get the money for plane tickets, though.”

Zoro nodded.

“Are you really driving all the way across the country this week?”

“Yep. I’ve got a friend I’m going to see on my way to New York. I haven’t seen him in years.”

“That’s cool!”

Zoro and Peyton parted ways after lunch, and Zoro began his long trip to New York. Maybe by the time he got there, he’d be mentally prepared to see the city again. At least this time he didn’t have to enter it via the airport.

—————

Chapter 20 →

This is part of the Dad!BTS series that can be found here

Series M.list

A/N: haha. Back to multiple updates in a row! Isn’t that lovely?

It would be greatly appreciated if you reblogged the story if you liked it!

Taglist: @jiminie-and-his-pinky-finger @jinnie-forthe-winnie

#softbobamilktae original stories

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laketaj24 · 4 years

Text

Marked

Author’s Note: Hey! This piece was requested, and I decided to make it a few parts. So here is the first, and this part is based on one of my favorite songs, Slow Dancing in a Parking Lot. I really like hometown, slow country ass romances lol. So this is what I am giving you! I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Happy Reading! (My taglists and requests are open!)

Warnings: Public Sex, Fluff, Language, Dubcon, OMEGAVERSE

Pairings: Alpha!Henry Cavill x Omega!Reader

M A S T E R L I S T

“Hi.” You waved at your new neighbor. The small family of four seen you a total of seven times and still had not introduced themselves once. Where was the small-town charm you’d seen in all those movies?

The man looked to you first, tall and muscled he waved. “Good morning!”

“Morning!” You yipped, finally, some interaction. “Your family is beautiful.” Those were the only words that you could think of besides saying something about the weather.

“Thank you, how are you liking Longview?”

“Love it.” You lied. It had been two weeks, you’d left the house a total of three times and each time you got lost. “It’s beautiful here.”

The drizzle of rain started overhead, it always rained in Washington, maybe that’s why you stayed in all those days without hesitation. It was sunnier in Southern California, and there was always something to do, here it was the opposite.

“That’s wonderful,” he yelled before ducking into his blue minivan. Your neighbor waved quickly as he backed out of his driveway and onto the road.

The family next door was the only one for about five miles, besides the one across the street, and he never really made an appearance other than coming home from work. You liked to people watch, it was easy to do when there were only two houses to watch. You made your way back into the house, nursing the warm cup of coffee.

When you moved here, you were no stranger to the place. Summers had been spent here with your uncle, sometimes holidays, and upon his death, you inherited the house that gave you some of your fondest memories. Building a life here was what you were intended to do, and you didn’t really have a choice, it had all fell apart everywhere else you went. This inheritance was your one get of jail free card, and it came right on time.

Longview didn’t hold much, two grocery stores on each side of the town, one bookstore, three churches, and one bar called the Sly Tree. These things you’d remembered because they held an interest and you had planned to visit them all. Tonight it was Sly Tree.

The yellow crop top looked good against your honey-colored skin and with the slight inch of your mid-drift showing it gave the illusion that you were a good girl who’d come to play, or at least that's what you wanted it to mean. Who knew if they took it that way, you sat at the bar. There were a few more people in the place, but none that piqued your interest. The bartender tapped your glass. “Refill?”

“I can’t.” you shook your head, there was no hope of you getting home safely with another drink in your system. “But thank you.”

“You moved into Harper’s old place?”

“Yes, he was muy uncle.”

“Good guy, he always came in here on Sunday’s spreading lies about wolves.” The bartender was friendly enough, the cute smile and wide eyes caught your attention, but he was young.

“He told me about those damn wolves.” You giggled. They were all around the property. Hence the reason you opted to not have a dog, coming home to a missing dog was not your intention.

“crazy man, good, though.” He handed you a sprite. “Drink this.”

“Thank you... what’s your name?”

“Cody.”

“Nice to meet you, Cody, is there anything fun to do around here?”

“A few towns over, maybe.” He shrugged a matter of fact and exhaled. “Hunting is pretty cool, though? You should come in one day?”

“I’m certain she doesn’t mean killing deer.” The smooth voice came from the right of you, the familiar face of your quiet neighbor actually brought some light to your life. Maybe you wouldn’t have to feel alone after all.

“Hey.”

“Hey, neighbor,” he smirked. “A beer, please.”

You’d never talked to him, only observed from afar, and there was much to observe. He was tall, strapping with broad shoulders, a body that made you think unsavory things and, unlike the family man across the yard, unattached. “So, you do know that I’m there?”

“How could I not?”

“You never speak.”

“Haven’t had the opportunity.”

“Opportunities have been available, Cavill.” You said his last name thinking of the gray mailbox it was engraved in.

“Hmmm.” He placed the bottle cap of the beer on the table and took a swig of the beer. “You like to hide in that house of yours, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“I’m Henry, and if I am not mistaken, you’re Y/N.” Henry swiveled in his chair to face you. “Your uncle spoke highly of you.”

“That’s good to know.”

“So, you’re in a bar on a Wednesday at eight, cabin fever must’ve set in?”

“It did.”

His car smelled of cedar, and you loved it. You sunk back in the passenger seat and kicked your feet up on his dashboard. The small city passed by, and for once in your unsettled roused life, you felt at ease. There was only one red light but about five intersections that lead you in a circle.

“Where are you from?” Henry asked with his arm hanging out of the window, his fingers waving as the window passed through them. “Technically, I’m from Georgia, but I lived in California for almost four years.”

“So. Cal?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I didn’t.” he laughed. “But I’ve always wanted to use that abbreviation.”

“Good sentence, no one calls it that by the way.”

“Then how was it a good sentence.”

“I just didn’t want to diss you all the way.”

“Ah, the courtesy country girl, I lucked out.”

“Thank you.” You bit your lip. “You go to the gym often?”

“Never.” Henry laughed. “I run and lift trees.”

“All this comes from that?” It was impossible not to touch his arms, they looked terrific through the tight-fitting grey shirt.

“Five years of it, yes.”

“I guess I lucked out.” You whispered with a small grin on your face. “Where are we headed?”

“Right over there.” He pointed to the grocery store parking lot, and the car headed that way. You had never been parking, but you’d heard of it just not in a place this obvious.

“There are no lights in that parking lot.” You chuckled. “Choosing dim-lit places like this on purpose?”

“Definitely.” the half cocky answer was coated with sarcasm. Henry didn’t seem like that type. He parked the car and turned the music down. “Now, you tell me one of your favorite songs.”

“Does it have to be fast?”

“It’s totally up to you.”

“I’m drawing a blank here,” I said after a few seconds.

“I’ll pick one, you keep thinking.” He strolled through his phone, and then the slow music came through the speakers. henry climbed out of the truck, walked over to your side, and opened the door. “Dance?” He asked.

“I suck at it.”

“Good, I don’t have to whip out my Footloose moves.” He winked as he helped you from the truck into his hands. Sweet guys like him never seemed to come your way, not in Georgia, California, or any of the other places you’d been. He was novel.

He moved as if he actually could dance, pulling you against his chest and swaying playfully to the music. The song was lulling, complementing the atmosphere of the night.

“So, where’s your girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?”

“Someone as perfect as you have to be in a longterm relationship contemplating marriage.”

He laughed, shaking his head, his eyes flickering amber in the light for a moment and then back to their normal state. Henry’s fingers intertwined in yours. “I have no one, and if I did... I am certain you’d of seen her by now.”

“Just checking.”

“What else do you want to know?”

“What can you tell me?”

“I drink every Saturday night. I get in lost in the color brown, it’s the prettiest color... Trees, dirt all beauties often overlooked, but they’re the most important ones. I sleep with the air on me. I wake up super early, walk to the river and piss every morning. I like to sing in the shower, but I suck at it. I like you.” The vomit of words was the most alluring thing you’d heard since you came here. Henry twirled you around and pulled you back to him.

“You tell every girl you take home these same lines?”

“Just one.”

“You’re smooth with your lines Henry...”

“I can still break out my footloose moves if you want?”

“No need to...” You smiled. “This is better.”

“Good. I haven’t stretched just yet.”

You shouldn’t have kissed him, your hands shouldn’t be gripping his curls, and you definitely shouldn’t be hoisting yourself upon him, but here you were doing all of it and importantly enjoying it. Your tongue lightly swiped his lips before it was met with his and a small groan. Five hours ago, you met him. You didn’t know his last name or if even shared your beliefs, but you wanted to fuck him.

“How are the public indecency charges around here?” You whispered.

“I haven’t been charged with that one yet.” He carried you to the passenger’s seat.

“There’s a first for everything.”

“I know the sheriff.” he laughed. “I think I can get us out of it.”

Everything was rushed, but it didn’t stop you from deepening the kiss and tugging on his belt buckle.

“You sure you want this?”

You press your palms into the leather seat, and he pulls your pants down to your ankles. “I haven’t been sure of anything else.” You giggle as you rock your hips against him, grinding your mound against his hardened cock. He pushed your panties aside, rubbing the head of his cock against your lips and hoisted you up.

“You’re already wet for me, sweetheart.” he pushed inside of you, throbbing and suppressing a carnal growl.

You sunk your teeth into his shoulder when he pulled you down on his cock and began to fuck you. Then his eyes met yours, and they glowed in the dim light of the parking lot, it was surreal animalistic. “I’ve been thinking about this ever since you moved in...” He fucked harder, bouncing your tits in your bra. “How I wanted to fuck you and make you mine...” he grunted.

Your head fell back in ecstasy, and he rubbed his nose down your face before his tongue licked down your chest.

“Your fucking scent.” He growled, rutting into you. “You don’t even know what you are... sweetheart.”

“What am I?” You whispered.

“Mine.” Henry’s teeth bit into your skin, and you squealed. “Omega.”

His eyes shifted again in the light, and his teeth were still in your flesh.

“Omega?”

Your uncle used to talk of omegas, again when he was drunk... You pull away from him, but he continues to fuck you. “Henry.” You moaned. “Fuck! Henry!” You feel him swell inside of you.

Henry’s bitemark was fresh on your chest as was this inflamed urge to ride him harder, your body willed as if it could not stop. “Feel it.” He commanded. “Your body knows you’re mine too.”

“Ohh, fuck!” He grew bigger, swelling as he thrust faster and then locking into you. “Don’t cu-.”

Henry’s hand clamped down over your mouth, and he shuttered, your body shuttering, joining his climax. The warmth of his cum was soothing, fucking made you want to cum again. “Get dressed.” he kissed your lips. “Now.”

Henry Cavill Taglist: @oddsnendsfanfics @taytayize123 @my-rosegold-soul @titty-teetee @sparklemichele @imgoldielikehawn @therandomthoughtsofmsparker @therealcalicali @rhys108 @shut-up-broccoli@peculiar-monstar @sincerelysinister @xxpapasfritasxx @brexrif @sheismycherry @justgrits @angelic-kisses13 @ikeepforgettin @persephones24

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@ieshaa96 @msmorganforever @magdelen69 @alwaysadreamingoptimist @zejess93 @singeramg @heelsamizayn @onmykneesforloki @scuzmunkie @laricebabe @queen-sands @minton131 @sciapod @a-really-bi-girl @kittyslove @kathhdd @only-isabell @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @mereka18

@queenmalhinewahine @sweetybuzz25 @xmother-mortemx @zoogrl05 @cap-barnes@itsmydreamlifethings @love-more122 @dearlybelovedluke @savismith @comfortingcreature @badassbaker @hell1129-blog @keiva1000 @la-meneur-louve @inthenameofrock @i-love-superhero @vivodinson @dealingwithit0214 @crowngold @violetidk @virgodmood @magic-dust @kittyatemytaco @aykanna @fcgrizi

@thewitcher-is-a-pandemic @tonictransistor @itsmydreamlifethings @lady-out-of-time @keiva1000 @this-is-serenaa @mis-lil-red @captainslasher @littlefreya @snatchedbylele @alyssaj23 @deep-in-my-thoughts13 @ohjules @s-ravenall @elixasays

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill fandom #alpha!Henry Cavill #Henry cavill x reader #Henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #laketa j writes

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one-boring-person · 3 years

Note

Would you ever do a part 2 to Six Bodies In An Alley.

I'm gonna be honest, I never really had any intention of carrying on with this, but I went back and read it again and came up with this, so enjoy!😊💛

Six Bodies In An Alley. (Part Two)

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: death, blood, being held captive

Masterlist

"What should we do with her?" Dwayne's question sends yet another bolt of dread through me as he speaks, fear coursing through me like great torrents of ice.

The four...creatures…stand before the sofa, looking down on me as if it's my own fault I'm here. At one time, I might've made a joke about the way they're standing, but now I doubt I'll ever be able to poke fun at them ever again, not after what I've seen, after what they've done. Tears threaten to spill out over my cheeks as I recall the gruesome images of the past hour, grief tearing at my heart at the memory of what happened to my brother. Cold sorrow washes over me and I have to fight back a sob, making a strangled sound that catches their attention. Under their gazes, I cower and feel yet more terror flood my system, as well as a hot flare of disgust: they haven't even cleaned the gore off of themselves.

"Just let me go, please! Please! I won't tell anyone, I swear, just let me go! Don't hurt me, please!" I plead with them, my voice laced with the debilitating fear in my veins.

"No, we can't risk that." David shakes his head, cold blue eyes fixed on me, "You're staying with us either way."

"No, please...I'll do anything! Just let me go!" I beg him, my heart racing as I try to reason with him.

"No, you're staying here." He snaps back firmly, his sharp tone drawing a whimper of fear from me.

Cold fear floods me as I think over what he is saying: I'm basically a prisoner. What're they going to do with me?

I shudder as the answer comes to mind.

"Aw, come on, Doll, it ain't so bad." Paul grins lopsidedly at me, the expression not quite carrying the same warmth I used to love seeing on him.

I look away, my hands clutching at each other in my lap, fingernails digging into my skin enough to break the skin.

"Ok, but how are we gonna keep her here? She'll just escape as soon as the sun comes up." Marko says, gesturing to my trembling form.

The four stare down at me again, seemingly considering the question until Dwayne speaks again.

"Lets just tie her up to something. That should work well enough."

His words send another bolt of ice through me, but there's something in what Marko said that strikes a chord within me - why did he bring up the sun?

Instantly, it hits me, weak hope sparking to life within me at the knowledge. The boys are quite clearly vampires, and so they must have an aversion to the sun, just like the ones in the old books do. A plan starts to form in my head, and I start hoping they can't mind read as well, knowing it will give me away as Marko approaches me with a rope, a smirk on his face. I let him manhandle me into position, watching as he ties my wrist a nearby fallen beam, securing it tightly so I have very little room to move, but not so that my circulation is restricted.

As he finishes the blonde vampire steps back and David comes forward, a stern look on his face.

"You better still be here when we wake up." He growls threateningly at me, before he and the others turn and leave through a nearby tunnel.

An angry ring has appeared around my wrist as I rub at it, wincing from the burning sting of the rope I only just managed to force off of my arm, the area flushed and irritated. It had taken me far too long to work the ties off of me, but I had to be careful not to break the skin or draw blood, in case I woke up the boys. Now, I'm regretting not finding another way of freeing myself as my hand burbs, but I do my best to ignore it, shakily climbing up and out onto the top of the Bluff, glad to feel the strong rays of the sun on my face. I never thought it would be as reassuring as it is now, but the relentless light makes me feel somewhat safer.

Sighing, I look around for a way to get to civilization, chewing my lip as I do so, not coming up with any ideas. That is, until I see the boys' bikes pushed behind a nearby tree. Immediately, I feel a shot of hope go through me, and I rush over to them, picking one out. I can't remember whose it is, but I have to fight back a cry of relief when the engine instantly starts up again, the bike ready to take me back into town.

Kicking it into action, I try to remember how I've been taught this, shakily riding off along the line of the cliff, back to the tree line the boys so often come out of when they're racing along the beach. I instantly regret this as I find myself trying to navigate the tight spaces and convoluted area, practically having to hold back a cheer of relief when the trees break off to reveal the beach, which I quickly speed onto. Sand flies up around me as I thunder along the expanse of land, the motorcycle's tyres struggling to grip as it travels over the loose material. Gritting my teeth, I ride the vehicle right up to the Boardwalk, ignoring the shouts of protest from beach-goers.

Upon reaching the Boardwalk, I gun the engine once more, going along the sidewalk at high-speed, nearly hitting a couple of holiday makers as I do so. Heart pumping, I take the bike directly to my home, breaking about eight different traffic laws as I go, uncaring of the consequences this will bring once I'm out of this mess. As I get to my house, I park the motorbike out the front and race inside, slamming the door behind me.

My mind goes into survival-mode, and I run upstairs, pulling a rucksack from my wardrobe, which I start to stuff with clothes and essential items, throwing in personal items, too. I check the time as I go, panic flaring up in me as I notice that there's only a few hours left before sundown, meaning I don't have much time left to get as far away from here as possible. Taking as much stuff as I need, I swiftly go back downstairs, looking around the place one last time before I duck back outside, going to the bike.

It's only now that I realise I took David's motorbike, a fact I barely register as I climb back onto it, starting up the engine again.

This time, I stick to the laws of the road, not wanting to be pulled over by any traffic police, cursing to myself as I get caught in traffic, my time slowly starting to ebb away. It takes a long while, but eventually I manage to get here so need to be: the Santa Carla Bus and Train Station.

I leave the bike at the front of the large building, uncaring of what happens to it now that I no longer need it, more worried about simply getting away now that the opportunity to do so is so close. People shout in protest as I push past them, but I just go right to the ticket desk, buying passage out of this town. The ticket terminates in Canada, a fact that reassures me, as it means I can get as far away as I like without needing to stop anywhere else.

A couple of hours later, and I'm watching the last rays of sunlight disappear over the horizon, my paranoia creeping up on me again as I watch this happen. The bus never got out as quickly as I wanted it to, and now we're only just leaving Santa Carla, meaning there is ample time for my four captors to catch up to me.

Thankfully, nothing comes for a good hour or so, the bus chuntering away down the highway, the passengers (all five of them) keeping blissfully quiet, none of them aware of the panic I'm in. I can feel myself finally starting to relax again, just as the bus suddenly stops.

Looking out of the window, I notice now that there aren't any other cars on the road outside, and that it's completely dark, making it impossible to see anything. The other passengers start to murmur to themselves, glancing around in as much confusion as I feel, only to cry out in surprise when the lights cut out.

It feels as if I've blacked out, everything going horribly quiet until I hear the first scream of agony. It's the driver, his voice wailing in a blood-curdling manner until it's drowned out by another person's, the cry a definite female sound. Terror explodes inside me, and I immediately know what's happening, though I can't move, the fear freezing me in place as shrieks of pain, followed by sickeningly wet sounds fill the air, my breathing coming hard and fast as I try not to make much of a sound.

The lights eventually come back on, and I have to fight not to throw up into my lap at the grim sight around me. Four figures stand amongst the gore, faces twisted into snarling sneers.

"I thought we told you to stay put?' David growls at me.

#the lost boys #vampire #vampires #lost boys #break writes #the lost boys david #the lost boys paul #dwayne (the lost boys)#the lost boys marko

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writtenonreceipts · 4 years

Note

How about 4. “I shouldn’t be this attracted to an elf” for rowaelin from the Christmas prompt list?

I had way too much fun with this. I wrote it quick and sweet.

Santa and his Helpers

Aelin Galathynius did not hate her job. Quite the opposite in fact. She taught high school English—mostly to the juniors and seniors—and it was one of the most rewarding things to experience. Especially when a proclaimed despiser of Charlotte Bronte turned around by the end of the year having written a full-fledged essay about the merits of understanding Jane Eyre in all its complexity and over-zealous language.

The only thing that made the job even more worth while was the fact that she coached for the girls’ basketball team.

Unfortunately, it was basketball that partially made her life slightly miserable.

It was all thanks to one Rowan Whitethorn, the head coach for the boys’ team. To say that he and Aelin didn’t get along was putting it lightly.

The found every opportunity to fight. When the boys took up too much time in the gym after their week for the early practice time slot or when the boys didn’t clean up enough after themselves.

It got especially worse when Whitethorn, who also worked as a history teacher in the school, attempted to say that there was no literary merit to the fantasy genre.

Aelin was going to stuff an unabridged copy of The Lord of the Rings down his throat and see how he like that.

Things did not improve as the sports season progressed. Especially not when both the boys and girls were forced to have a holiday party together due to over booking at the Sports Center in down town Terrasen.

“It’s his fault,” Aelin grumbled to Lysandra.

Lysandra rolled her eyes and shoved a plate of cookies into Aelin’s hands. The one saving grace with the basketball season was having Lys as her assistant coach and the both of them could complain together about anything and everything.

“Please Aelin,” Lysandra said sipping at her hot chocolate.

While the kids from both teams ran around the sports center choosing to play pick-up games of basketball, climb on a rock wall, or settle on video games—the two manned the treats table. Mostly so Aelin could stuff her face with homemade goods the mothers had all provided.

“He’s an ass, I’m sure he did it on purpose,” Aelin insisted.

“Can we please stop this and have you just admit that you’re kind of attracted to him?” Lysandra asked.

Nearly choking on her cookie, Aelin shot a somewhat terrified look at her best friend. “Excuse me?”

“Well he’s obviously gorgeous,” Lysandra said casually. “Even you can’t deny that. Plus, there’s always been some sort of—”

“If you say sexual tension, I will call Aedion and tell him you’re pregnant,” Aeilin threatened.

Lysandra gasped, one hand going to her belly. “You wouldn’t. I have been planning revealing this thing for a week.”

“The day I say that Rowan Whitethorn is attractive is the day that you know I have lost my mind,” Aelin said.

Making a noise of disbelief, Lysandra left Aelin for a moment while she went to talk to some of the girls from the team.

Aelin shook her head. The brunette had to be having some very, very, strange pregnancy hormones going on to think that Aelin would be attracted to Rowan Whitethorn. He was arrogant. A hard ass. Never knew how to have fun. It didn’t matter that yes; he was basically a god with a very nicely sculpted body. But that didn’t make up for anything else.

Eating another cookie to avoid more than a nod to a few of the parents, Aelin shook her head. Rowan Whitethorn would certainly be the death of her.

“Ho, ho, ho!”

Aelin glanced up to the doors of the lobby as one Fenrys Moonbeam strut in decked out in a full Santa costume. Beard askew and all.

All the boys let out whopping cheers and grabbed their phones.

“What is he doing?” Aelin asked one of the boys that she also had in one of her classes.

The boy, Ryan, grinned. “Coach Whitethorn and Coach Moonbeam lost a bet on how many three-pointers they could sink in a minute. The team got to pick the punishment.”

Aelin watched in slight horror, slight admiration, as Fenrys bounded around the front area exchanging punches and fist bumps with the boys on the basketball team and a few of the girls. Fenrys was the favorite PE teach of the school. Especially given his easy attitude and love of teaching.

“You look great Fenrys,” Aelin said as he approached her.

He grinned. “This thing is itchy as hell, but at least I got this and not what Rowan did.”

Aelin quirked a brow and was about to ask him what he meant when the man in question entered.

Dressed in a green coat and green leggings like something out of the movie Elf, Rowan Whitethorn sulked into the room.

The entirety of the boys’ team whooped and hollered. Rowan waved a hand and shook his head. Surprisingly, Aelin found, he was grinning. Flat out, no shame, grinning.

“Looking great coach!” Ryan shouted.

“I should hope so, Ryan this is your doing,” Rowan called back in response.

The entire thing was so entirely strange to Aelin that she could only stare as Rowan and Fenrys made rounds with the other players and their parents.

“Damn, he really does have a nice ass,” Lysandra said popping up beside Aelin again.

Aelin nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden appearance. She really hoped Lys hadn’t noticed her blatant staring at Rowan, but with the way Lysandra was grinning, Aelin knew she was not going to experience a miracle that night.

“Seriously?” Aelin was about to give her friend a hard time when Rowan came over to the refreshment table, accepting a hot chocolate from Lysandra.

“Nicely done, Rowan,” Lysandra said. She looked him over with appreciation. “Though you really should have found some pointy ears.

“The tights are bad enough,” Rowan said seriously. “I’m gonna make Ryan pay for this.”

Aelin couldn’t help but laugh. The man looked so ridiculous and outside of his comfort zone that she still couldn’t get over the fact that he’d actually dressed up. Rowan shot her a scowl.

They glared at each other with such ferocity that Aelin wondered if one of them would spontaneously combust. Then she decided to make the best of this situation and she broke into a feral grin. Rowan frowned, just slightly.

“Whitehorn, who knew tights were such a good look for you,” she purred, immensely pleased when his cheeks reddened just barely.

“I see you didn’t have any trouble finding an ugly sweater this year, Galathynius,” Rowan replied gesturing to her sweater. It was a mess of tinsel and stitching and cats wearing sweaters themselves while decorating a tree. She loved it.

“I plan on wearing it up until break starts,” she said.

Rowan surprised her once again by smirking—almost laughing with her over the idea. Then Fenrys called him over to have a layup competition with a few of the girls and boys of the different teams.

Aelin didn’t even care if Lysandra saw her staring.

“I shouldn’t be this attracted to an elf,” Aelin finally admitted, much to her chagrin.

Lysandra howled in laughter and nearly fell into Aelin’s arms.

tags: @tottenhamboys20 @morganofthewildfire @aelinchocolatelover @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @bamchickawowow @ladywitchling @ireallyshouldsleeprn @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

#aelin and rowan #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin au #rowaelin #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galathynius

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nerdyfangirl67 · 4 years

Text

Home for Christmas - Criminal Minds Reader Insert (12 Days of Christmas)

Pairing: Hotch x fem!reader, Jack Hotchner x reader (maternal relationship

Warnings: angsty at the beginning, lots of Jack x reader moments, fluff ending!

Word count: 2431

A/N: Y/F/C/M stands for your favorite Christmas Movie and Y/N/N stands for your nickname. I also believe that Aaron is the kind of person who texts with correct grammar, although he may use sentence fragments if he is short on time, so that is incorporated into this one-shot. This one came to me while listening to a Christmas song, called “Home” by Blake Shelton and Michael Bublé (linked below). I really enjoyed the idea of this one (it may have gotten away from me a bit!)

Home by Blake Shelton ft. Michael Bublé

So here it is, hope y’all enjoy it! If you’re looking for another Christmas fic to read, check out my Mini-Series masterlist, where the rest of my Christmas one-shots are.

I know there aren’t any Aaron x Jack moments in the story but this was the GIF I thought fit best :)

“Y/N, it 's Aaron. I, uh, I won’t be making it home in time for Christmas. We have yet to get a break in the case, so it could be another week before I’m home. I know you had a lot planned for Christmas, and I’m sorry I won’t be able to celebrate with you. I’ll try to call, but I can’t promise anything. I love you. Tell Jack I love him.” Aaron’s voice crackles in your ear as you listen to the voicemail he’d left you earlier, as in 3 am, that morning for the eighth time.

It had been the first time you had heard his voice in almost a week and part of you was overjoyed. The other part of you was exasperated. You knew he was dedicated to his work, you had known it since the two of you had started dating, but it still hurt. Every time he worked late and didn’t let you know hurt. Every time a case went longer than expected, it hurt. Every time you went to bed alone, his side of the bed untouched and cold, hurt. And it didn’t hurt any less now, despite your suspicions upon hearing the team had taken another case, so close to Christmas, that he would miss the holiday altogether.

You let out a sigh as you stand up from where you had been sitting on the couch, wrapped in a Christmas throw blanket. You take your empty glass, which had been filled with your favorite holiday drink, into the kitchen and place it in the sink. You double-check the apartment door, making sure it was both deadbolted and locked (something Aaron had ingrained in you to do while he was away), before making your way towards the master bedroom. You stop at the door to Jack’s bedroom, cracking it open and using the light of the hallway to look at him.

Jack was sprawled out in his bed, fast asleep. Tiptoeing into the room so as not to wake him, you reach his bed and pull the discarded comforter up off the floor, placing it on top of Jack and gently tucking him in. “Your daddy loves you Jack, and so do I.” You say softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead, giving him a long look, before making your way back out of his room.

Upon reaching your bedroom, you head to Aaron’s dresser. You find one of his sweatshirts, well-worn and baggy, grab it from the drawer, and pull it on as you climb into bed. You didn’t typically wear his sweatshirts while he was home, but whenever he was away, it helped ease the ache created by his absence. After getting settled underneath the covers with your nose pressed into Aaron’s pillow, you soon fall asleep.

---

You are up early the next morning, quickly climbing out of bed before you realize that you have the next few days off, the 23rd (today) through the 26th for Christmas. You had used a few vacation days to extend your Christmas ‘vacation’, as you and Aaron (who had thought he would have had Christmas case-free) had wanted to spend time with Jack, as a family.

You couldn’t bring yourself to climb back into bed so you head downstairs, the idea of making breakfast for Jack coming to mind. Even though Aaron wouldn’t be home for Christmas, you still wished to make this Christmas special for Jack, just as you had planned to with Aaron. After going through your email and having a cup of your favorite morning beverage, you head into the kitchen. A few minutes of looking and you find your recipe for gingerbread waffles, a favorite from your childhood, and start gathering the ingredients.

Fifteen minutes later and you have your first batch of waffles made, bacon sizzling in a pan on the stove, and orange juice in glasses on the table. Christmas music is playing softly in the background when a small voice has you whipping around.

Jack is standing in the middle of the kitchen, his hair standing up at different angles on his head, and one of his hands sleepily rubbing his eyes. “Good mornin’ mama.” Despite not being his birth mother, Jack had been calling you mama since you had moved in with him and Aaron, over a year ago now. And every time you heard it, you were still overcome by joy.

You pull the boy into your arms, giving him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Hi bud. How’d you sleep?”

“I slept good mama. What are you making?” He asks curiously, peering around you to look at the stove.

You stand and briskly stride back to the stove to flip the bacon and check on the waffle you had cooking before you turn back to Jack. “Gingerbread waffles and bacon.” You answer, plating one of the waffles and some bacon before bringing it to the table. “Here buddy. Eat up.” You said, placing the plate next to the glass of orange juice. Jack bounces to the table, sitting down and quickly digging in.

---

After breakfast, and a few games of twenty questions, you decide to take Jack to the ice skating rink not too far from the apartment. The two of you bundle up and hail a cab to the rink. You spend the five minute ride to the ice plex with Jack in your arms as the two of you play a game of “I Spy.”

The cab reaches the ice rink, and after paying the driver you and Jack venture inside. You let out a laugh as he exclaims in excitement at all the trophies, fancy ice skates, and photos of skaters in the lobby. You rent a pair of skates for the two of you, before leading jack out to the seating around the rink. It takes you a few minutes to get skates on, and to help Jack with his but a few short minutes later the two of you are out on the ice.

It is apparent that you are out of practice and try as you might, you fall several times. Jack is actually skating better than you and soon he is ‘teaching you’.

“Mama, make sure you aren’t leaning backwards. That might be why you’re falling.” The nine, almost ten, year-old’s advice was helping you to stay on your feet for longer than thirty seconds. You had even started to move cautiously along the edge of the rink, with Jack skating confidently in front of you. The two of you stay out on the ice until Jack tells you he is cold. Admittedly, you were starting to get cold yourself, but you didn’t want to end Jack’s fun early.

After ice skating, the two of you go to Jack’s favorite pizza place, a little Italian place (the boy had developed sophisticated taste buds, thanks to a certain David Rossi), within walking distance from the apartment. The two of you have a lunch filled with cheesy pizza, endless breadsticks (which both you and Jack enjoyed thoroughly), and lots of laughs.

Then, upon returning to the apartment, the two of you cuddle up on the couch and watch Christmas classics. You share with Jack some of the movies you had grown up watching (Y/F/C/M and Y/F/C/M) and he shares some his favorites with you (The Grinch and Santa Buddies).Your movie marathon only stops when you whip up a quick dinner, which the two of you eat in about ten minutes at the table, and when you get up and pop some popcorn for one of the movies. Jack stays up way past his bedtime, but knowing that neither of you have to get up early the next morning has you being more lenient with his bedtime.

The next day passes in much of the same fashion. You and Jack take a walk, intent on finding the best Christmas decorations within walking distance. Although you had found some pretty cool decorations, Jack definitely won when he spotted the house decked out with a 12 Days of Christmas theme. Then the two of you stopped for lunch at one of the sidewalk vendors, something that Aaron probably would frown upon.

After lunch, you and Jack went to a Christmas pop-up village, where you watched the ‘elves’ wrap presents and people take pictures with Santa. The two of you ordered deluxe hot chocolates and sat on a bench, listening to a choir sing Christmas carols. Jack sang along to the ones he knew and he even convinced you to sing along with some too.

You two return to the apartment in late afternoon, shortly after which, the two of you start making Christmas cookies. You roll out the dough, while Jack stamps the cookie cutters into it, creating a variety of Christmas themed cookies. As the several batches of cookies bake, Jack reads to you from the kitchen’s small island as you follow the recipe for a sugar cookie frosting. When the cookies, and the frosting, are finished, you and Jack set to decorating the cookies.

Three hours and an order of takeout later, and you have four dozen frosted cookies scattered across the kitchen counter tops, three bags of mostly eaten takeout, two empty mugs, and one frosting and crumb covered boy fast asleep on the couch.

You can’t help but smile as you look at the plate of cookies Jack decorated, not for Santa, but for Aaron when he returned from the case he was working on.There were several Santas, a Rudolph reindeer, a present, and a Christmas tree. As you cover the plate in plastic wrap, you can’t help but think that you would give just about anything to talk to Aaron for a while. It had been two days since he had left the voicemail, and since then all you had gotten were a few short texts.

“Case progressing. Miss you and Jack.”

“Finally developed a profile. Love you Y/N/N.”

“Thought we had an unsub, but looks like we were wrong.”

“I love you and Jack. Wish I could be holding you both in my arms.”

You heave out a sigh and get to work doing the dishes from dinner and your baking escapade with Jack. The dishes, and tidying up of the kitchen, takes far longer than you want and it’s close to ten before you are gently waking Jack from the couch. You tenderly guide him down the hallway, making a pit stop in the bathroom to help wash some of the frosting off of Jack’s hands and face. After Jack is frosting free, with freshly brushed teeth and clean pajamas, you get him settled in bed. You read him “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas” and listen to him sleepily tell you about the gifts he thought might be under the tree, after which you tuck him in and give him a kiss good night.

You take your time getting ready for bed, wishing the entire time that you would be crawling into bed with Aaron, where you would spend the rest of the night in his arms. But, alas, you are greeted with a cold, empty bed, which you reluctantly climb into as you shoot Aaron a quick text, wishing him a happy Christmas Eve and adding a short ‘I love you.’ You try to read a few pages in your latest book, but your mind isn’t into it. Instead you stare at the softly blinking Christmas lights shining in from the hallway, through the small crack between the door and the door jam, letting the rhythmic changing of the lights lull you to sleep.

---

You wake up to what sounds like the heavy apartment door swinging shut and the floorboards creaking, followed by a low thud and a muttering voice, which you can’t quite make out. Your heart is thudding wildly in your chest as you anxiously climb from the bed and tiptoe to the door of the bedroom. You can’t see any figures in the hallway, so you creep across the hall, placing a hand on the doorknob to Jack’s bedroom and noiselessly start to turn it open. You are so focused on opening the door and getting to Jack that you don’t notice the figure coming down the hallway towards you. A soft hand on your shoulder has you whipping around, landing a heavy hit with the heel of your hand to the intruder’s face.

“Son of a-” You immediately recognize the voice as Aaron’s, which makes you gasp in shock.

“Aaron. I didn’t know it was you. I’m so sorry.” You say, as you start to fuss over him. You try to guide him to the bathroom, in hopes that you might be able to help him there, but his hands stop you.

“Y/N, I’ll be alright. All I need is you in my arms.” His words, albeit a bit slurred (probably from the present throbbing in his face) bring a warm, fuzzy feeling into your chest and a cheesy grin to your face. You start to move towards the bedroom, but he pulls you close, scooping you up and easily carrying you back to the bed. The heat created by his body only leaves for a moment as you watch him, in the dull light, strip off his suit jacket and tie, before returning to your side. He pulls you incredibly close, his face in the crook of your neck breathing you in.

You don’t say anything, rather you just take comfort in his presence as you play with the small hairs at the back of his neck. “Gosh, I missed you.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your collarbone before looking up into your eyes. One of his hands comes to rest on your cheek, his thumb tracing soft circles on your cheekbone.

“Merry Christmas Y/N.” He says, giving you another kiss, this time on the lips. His kiss is slow and tender, as if he wanted to savor the moment and make it last as long as possible.

Once you pull back, and catch your breath, you whisper, “Merry Christmas Aaron.”

He smiles at you, pressing another, much shorter, kiss to your lips. “I think I’ll wait for later in the morning to let Jack know I’m home; let it be a Christmas surprise for him.” He says, tightening his hold on you.

You smile back at him. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. For now, let me just appreciate my Christmas surprise.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds reader #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotcher x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner reader insert #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch reader insert #jack hotchner

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undyingskies · 4 years

Text

Hanukkah

request: yes

“hi!! would you be willing to write something with charlie where his girlfriend is jewish and someone made fun of her for it so he decides to go all out for the first night of hanukkah and buys his own menorah so he can make it the best for her bc even tho he isn’t jewish he wants to make her happy and enjoy her religion and heritage? sorry if that’s too specific and if you aren’t comfy doing that it’s totaly fine 🥺♥️”

A/N: I know the holidays are over, but due to the holidays I have gotten behind in my requests! I did my best to educate myself on Hanukkah and write a fic that respects the Jewish holiday! I hope everyone enjoys!

warnings: none

tagged: @mah-gah-lee, check her blog out! She is amazing and so are the fics that she writes!

———————————————————

Normally you were always really excited about the holiday season and celebrating Hanukkah. Hanukkah was eight days of celebration, each night at sundown you and your family got together to light the candle on the menorah. It was always a time of celebration and love.

This year was a little different though, this was your first holiday season living with Charlie. In the past Charlie had come for a few days of Hanukkah with your family but he had never been around for the full eight days.

Charlie had always done his best to educate himself of the Jewish holiday, he wanted to learn everything about it that he could. He learned the reason behind the celebration, he wanted to learn about your heritage, he learned all the traditional foods, and even had your mom teach him how to make latke.

It was also nice, that you were able to celebrate the holiday with your family and not have to worry about splitting the day with Charlie’s family since they celebrate Christmas. Your first time every celebrating Christmas was actually with Charlie and his family. It was fun to see a new holiday celebration, but nothing compared to celebrating Hanukkah to you.

You were a little nervous for this year, as again this was the first year of living with Charlie and doing all eight days of Hanukkah together. You were originally really excited, you were going to buy your own Menorah for the first time ever. You were even going to host one night of Hanukkah at your shared apartment with your family. That was until you had read some comment a fan had made. They just mentioned the difference between your two holidays and had said something about you forcing Charlie to engage in Hanukkah. Which just was not true at all, but it still got to you.

Your excitement for the holiday just seemed to fade as the comment continued to ring through your head. The first day of Hanukkah was quickly approaching but you hadn’t started to decorate or buy your menorah yet. Charlie noticed your mood and was worried because you had not mentioned it or even told him why.

Today was the day that the two of you were supposed to go shopping for all the things you needed.

“Hey Y/N, you ready to go shopping today?” Charlie asked you walking from your room and into the living room.

“I don’t think I really want to go anymore Char...” you trail off, “it just seems like too much now.”

His face falls at your words, not understanding why your excitement isn’t evident anymore and the fact your dismissing shopping for your first menorah. Something that you were really excited for just days prior.

“Are you sure? You were so excited about it the other day, truthfully I was too.” He tells you. You scoff at his words, not believing him. You knew he wasn’t the one who made the comment but somehow in your head, you twisted convincing yourself it was true.

His eyebrows furrow together at your actions, really not understanding what was happening.

“Can you tell me what’s going on Y/N? Please? I really am just not understanding.” He asks you.

“It’s nothing Charlie, I just don’t want to do it. I’ll just go to my parents house this year. That way you don’t have to be bothered by it.” You confess to him.

“So I won’t be bothered by it? Why would I be bothered by it?” He’s a little frustrated at your words, he’s always done his best to show you he loves spending Hanukkah with you and your family.

“I just don’t want to force you to do it anymore, people were saying I was forcing you to celebrate this whole time and I don’t want to do that. So I am not going to this year.” You tell him, pushing yourself up from the couch, just wanting to go lay in bed and take a nap.

Charlie reaches out and grabs your arm before you can leave. He pulls you to him, so that your face to face.

“Y/N, you know that’s not true. You have never forced me to celebrate or do anything I didn��t want to do. You know I’ve loved learning about Hanukkah, I was excited to host a night here.” He tells you with a smile on his face, hoping that his words would make you feel better.

They don’t. You roll your eyes at him, not believing his words. You had gotten in your head about it too much. “Whatever Charlie, I just don’t feel like dealing with it okay.” You tell him, stepping away to go to your room.

Charlie sighs and lets you go. He does follow you to the room though. He watches you climb into bed and face the wall. He’s stumped by all of this, not knowing how to fix the situation.

That’s when it hits him, he’s got an idea that has got to make you feel better. He leans over to place a kiss on your forehead. “Okay baby. I’m going to go to the store, I’ll let your rest.” He says.

You turn to look at him with a small smile on your face. “Okay Char. I love you.” You tell him.

“I love you too.” He says on his way out of the room.

He’s got your mom on the phone the minute his foot is out the door. He’s going to fix this situation and put you back in the holiday mood.

He made his way through about 4 different stores, trying to get everything he needed to make it perfect.

You don’t know how long he was gone but sleep had overcome you just a few minutes after he left. The nap granting you some peace from your intrusive thoughts.

When Charlie had gotten home from the store, your apartment was dark. He went to your bedroom to see if you were awake or not, but he found you peacefully sleeping. Which was perfect for his plan.

He quickly and quietly set everything up the best he could, hoping that his plan would work. Once he was done, he made his way back into your room.

He sat next to you on your bed, rubbing your back gently hoping to pull you from your sleep. After a couple seconds you start moving about, slowly becoming conscious. You roll over to find Charlie smiling down at you.

“Hi,” He whispers, to which you whisper hi back.

You don’t miss the excited look on his face and how his eyes seem to be sparkling a little more than usual. He was up to something, you just knew it.

“Everything good there Char?” You ask him. Your spirits a little up due to the nap.

“Yes it is! Wanna come with me to the living room?” He asks you, reaching his hand out for you to grab. You smile up at him and grab his hand, letting him pull you from the bed and into the living room.

Once you reach your living area, you stop dead in your tracks. The sight of your living room brought tears to your eyes. In the middle of your coffee table, was a beautiful menorah. There was also a tin next to the menorah, with all the candles in it.

The table had little white lights draped all along the edges of the table, to light up the room. In the corner of the room, there was also a medium Christmas tree. All of the decorations on the tree were shades of silver and blue.

Your tears kept falling, you were so happy. Charlie speaks up after a few seconds of watching you admire your home for a little.

“So I called your mom and asked her what I should get to decorate. She told me about the menorah, you had been looking at to get, so I went and got it. I hope that’s okay.” Charlie says while moving to stand in front of you.

“I know you thought you were forcing me to celebrate Hanukkah with you, but I want you to know that it wasn’t true. I love celebrating the holiday with you and learning all about it.” He pauses for a second, “Also I know it may be cheesy but now that we live together I thought, I could incorporate both our holidays. The internet told me that blue and silver were the colors of the Israeli flag so I thought maybe by decorating the tree with those colors, was a nice way to combine the two.” He tells you.

You can’t believe how sweet he was. Only Charlie would try to set up your home with both of your holiday traditions and try to come up with a way to combine the two of them. He truly was the best and so thoughtful.

“I just wanted you to know that even though we have different holidays and traditions, that we’re both in this together.”

A small smile graces both yours and Charlie’s lips as he says that. You can’t help but throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him in for a bone crushing hug. Tears still leaving your eyes.

“It’s perfect Charlie.” You whisper in his ear. You pull back from him, so you could be face to face.

Charlie leans in for a sweet kiss after a few seconds of eye contact. Your boy really was the best. After a few seconds of your lips moving together, you pull apart.

“Also I bought all the ingredients to make latke! I figured we could make it together!” He tells you. “After all we have two days before the first day of Hanukkah and we’re hosting that night!” You smile up at his words.

“Well we better get a start then!” You tell him, pulling him into the kitchen.

You end the night baking with the love of your life and telling him about all your childhood stories of Hanukkah. Nothing could get better than that.

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie x reader #charlie gillespie x oc #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #charliegillespieimagines #charliegillespieimagine #charlie gillespie fluff #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie fanfiction #jatp #julie and the phantoms #julieandthephantomsimagine

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allthingsfangirl101 · 4 years

Text

Baby’s First Christmas–Zac Efron

Masterlist

"Zac, honey, where's. . . "

I sighed when my husband turned around with our six-month-old daughter in his arms.

"She's supposed to be asleep," I chuckled as I walked over to them.

"She wanted to see the tree," he said nodding towards the tree we just finished decorating.

I walked over and wrapped my arms around his waist. I smiled as he started humming White Christmas. I looked over at Lucy and chuckled as her eyes started to get drowsy.

"She really should be in bed, babe," I whispered. "It's late."

"Fine," he sighed dramatically. "When you're older, remember this night, Luc. Mommy sent you to bed, not Daddy."

"Gee thanks," I joked.

I kissed our daughter's head before Zac carried her to the nursery. I smiled and watched as Zac gently put Lucy in her crib. Instead of leaving, he looked down at her and watched as she fell asleep.

I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. "You okay?" I whispered.

"This is going to be a great Christmas."

* * * * *

I held Lucy as Zac hung the lights outside. All week, Zac has been running around like crazy trying to get ready for the holiday. I bit my lip as he started to climb higher on the ladder.

"Honey," I said subconsciously tightening my arms around Lucy. "Please be careful. Maybe. . . Maybe we should wait for your brother."

"He's late," Zac said as he struggled to find the hook. "And we need to get this done before we go to the Christmas Tree Farm and pick out another tree."

"Another tree? We already. . . We already have a tree."

"I wanted to put a tree in Lucy's room," he said.

"In Lucy's room? Zac. . . Honey, please come down."

I gasped as Zac almost fell off the ladder. I held my breath as he caught himself and carefully climbed down the ladder. He looked up at me and walked over, taking Lucy from me.

"You okay?" He asked as he bounced Lucy.

"Why did you. . . We could've. . " I sighed as I ran my fingers through my hair. "Zac, honey, you could've fallen off that ladder. And then what? We spend Christmas in the ER?"

"I'm sorry."

"You have to be careful," I started rambling. "I need you, Zac. We need you. It isn't just you and me anymore. We have a daughter. She needs you to be careful."

Zac walked over and wrapped an arm around my waist, pressing a kiss to my lips. We laughed and broke the kiss as Lucy pushed us apart.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I'm sorry too," I sighed. "I just got scared for a second."

"It's okay," he chuckled. "I love you."

"I love you too."

* * * * *

Lucy was in her booster seat playing with some dough while Zac and I made Christmas sugar cookies. I looked over and laughed as I saw Zac covered in flour, struggling to roll out the dough.

"This won't stop sticking to the stupid rolling pin," Zac said angrily between grunts.

"Here," I chuckled as I grabbed his pin and rubbed some flour on it. "Now try it."

Zac smirked when he rolled the pin over the dough without it sticking. "Thanks," he chuckled. "I'm an idiot."

"That's okay," I giggled. "You're my idiot."

We spent the next little bit rolling out cookies and placing them in the oven. As they cooked, we watched Frosty the Snowman and Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer.

"Damn it!"

I put Lucy down in her playpen and walked into the kitchen. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"They're burnt," he said, his jaw clenched as he placed the pan of burnt cookies on the counter.

"Okay," I shrugged. "Babe, we have like two dozen more that we haven't even cooked yet."

I watched as he threw the oven mitt on the counter and angrily ran his fingers through his hair.

"Zac, are you okay?"

"I can't believe I burned the cookies," he said under his breath. I walked over and wrapped my arms around his neck. I stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his. When we broke apart, I lowered back down onto my toes.

"They are just cookies," I whispered. "We have two dozen more."

"You wouldn't have burned them," he mumbled. I rolled my eyes as I grabbed his chin and made him look back at me.

"They are just cookies," I repeated. "Let me hear you say it."

Zac sighed as he sent me a playful glare before sighing. "They are just cookies," he said slowly.

I opened my mouth to say something but stopped when Lucy started to cry.

"Sounds like it's time for her nap," I giggled. I pressed another kiss to his cheek before leaving to get her.

I stopped in the doorway and noticed Zac still fixated on the burnt cookies. My heart sank when I saw how upset he was. I was about to say something when Lucy cried again.

After laying her down, I walked back into the other room. I hesitated when I saw Zac flipping through one of Lucy's Christmas books. He looked over his shoulder when he heard me walk in.

"Is she asleep?" He asked, the disappointment in his voice.

"She is," I said as I walked over and leaned over the couch, wrapping my arms around his neck. I kissed his cheek, my lips lingering.

"What's going on, babe?" I whispered. "You've been oddly intense this entire holiday."

"I just," he sighed. I walked around the couch and sat next to him. I reached up and started running my fingers through his hair.

"Talk to me," I gently encouraged.

"I wanted Lu's first Christmas to be special, but everything I've tried to do has failed."

"Zac," I sighed. "Babe, that is a lot of pressure to put on yourself. Her first Christmas doesn't need to be perfect. She's six-months-old. Odds are, Lucy won't remember a Christmas until she's at least a few years old. Let's just focus on spending Christmas together as a family."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I was talking to Seth and he kept saying how hard it was to be a husband, a father, and an actor. I guess. . . I guess it started to get to me. I was away more than half your pregnancy, Y/N. You had to do a lot of the shopping alone. You had to get the nursery ready on your own. You had to do almost everything without me. All because of my job. And I didn't want you to feel like a single mom because you're not."

"I know that," I smiled. "I also know that you'll always be there for me and Lucy. And any other kids we have."

"I almost missed Lucy's birth because my flight was delayed," he said, grabbing my hand that wasn't playing with his hair and intertwining our fingers.

"But you made it," I said clearly. "Honey, I have never felt like a single mother. You bought some baby things online when you were in Germany and had them sent here. You forced your brother to come help me set up the crib when you were in London. Your mom planned and hosted an entire baby shower for me. You got to the hospital right when I needed you. You even volunteered to quit acting all-together when I first got pregnant."

"I just. . ." He stuttered.

"No," I gently cut him off. "Zac, you have always been there when I needed you. I knew exactly what I was getting into when I married you. Hell, I knew what I was getting into when we started dating. I'm going to say it again; you have always been and will always be here when I need you. That is all I care about."

I leaned over and pressed my lips to his. I giggled as he instantly deepened the kiss by pulling me onto his lap. Before things could get too heated, Zac broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against mine.

"I promise," he whispered, "if you ever need me, I will hop on a plane, a bus, a boat, a train, rent a car and drive, whatever it takes to get to you. I will always be there when you need me."

"And that is why I love you," I chuckled.

"I love you too," he smirked as he pressed his lips to mine. Before we could get too carried away, I broke the kiss.

"Zac," I said gently, "can we please focus on having a good Christmas instead of the perfect Christmas?"

He sighed as he tightened his arms around my waist. "Okay," he gave in. "I will change my focus from having the perfect Christmas to having a fun Christmas with my wife and daughter."

"Good," I giggled as I tightened my arms around him.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," I whispered when our lips were inches apart. I closed the gap between us and we instantly started moving our lips in sync.

"Babe?" I mumbled against his lips.

"Yes?" He chuckled.

"We still have two dozen cookies."

"Oh yeah," he said slowly breaking the kiss. "We should probably get them cooked and decorated before Lucy wakes up."

#zac efron #zac efron imagines #zac efron x reader #zac x wife #zac x family

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peggyrose19 · 4 years

Text

Day 24: Secret Santa

Happy Christmas Eve everyone!! I can’t believe it’s here already, feels like it was March just yesterday. I am very excited for this. Because the prompt for today is Secret Santa, I thought what better time to post my SW Discord Secret Santa! It was written as a gift for the wonderful @im-oknutzy-trash. I had an amazing time writing this and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do. Prompt from @remus-john-lupin, characters and AU from the amazing @lumosinlove. This is the last advent fic I’ll be doing, and I’m so so grateful to all of you that have kept up with them all, it really means a lot. Hope you all have a wonderful holiday, ily guys 😘

Logan had it all planned out.

The tree, the lights, the food.

The rings.

The only problem was actually executing his plan. And keeping it a secret until Christmas Eve.

He had been doing well for the first week or so. Of course, the rings hadn’t arrived yet, so maybe that was why. But once he had them, hidden away in his sock drawer in his bedroom, it all suddenly became urgent, a heavy presence he could feel hanging over him anytime he entered the apartment.

With each day, the urgency grew and grew. He could feel it every waking moment, and even when he was asleep, the pressure and nerves and need to keep it secret. The problem, of course, was that Logan was terrible at keeping secrets.

He knew Finn and Leo could feel him pulling away. He had hoped it wasn’t too obvious, but the looks on their faces when he forced a laugh or a smile, or cut off their kisses too soon, distancing himself as best he could. Because he knew that if he kissed them for too long, if he allowed himself to fall into that endless pit of love and desire, he would ask them right then and there, consequences be damned, and his planning would all go to waste.

So he stayed silent, stayed away as best he could, trying not to hurt them.

A week and a half before Christmas Leo and Finn confronted him.

“Logan, what’s going on?” Finn asked at dinner.

“Quoi?” Logan asked, looking up from his food.

“You’ve been acting weird for weeks,” Leo explained. “Is something going on, are you okay?”

“Oh! No, I’m fine.” His heart pounded, hoping they would believe him, mind going to the box in his dresser. He forced the image away.

But Finn pushed. “Is it us? Are we doing something wrong?”

“What? Nonono, you two are perfect. It’s not- I’m fine, I promise.”

“Logan, we know something’s wrong!” Finn exclaimed frustratedly. “I know you, I can tell when you’re not saying something.” Logan just sighed heavily. It wasn’t like he could tell them the truth. He hadn’t thought he would make it this far before blurting it out, honestly. But he had and now Finn was upset with him and Leo looked sad and uncertain and he wasn’t sure what to do now.

“I’m fine, okay?” he said, harsher than he meant, and Leo flinched back a bit. “Sorry,” he said immediately. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. But truly, nothing is going on.”

“Lo-” Finn whispered and fell silent. Both of them were staring at him.

“Fuck,” Logan muttered, and got up from the table.

Leo and Finn watched him go, dumbfounded, unsure what to do now. But Logan was back a moment later, a small box clutched in his hand. He ran his free hand through his hair, sighing.

“I had a plan, to do this on Christmas Eve with the tree and lights and- whatever, there was a whole plan. But you two are too fucking smart I guess.” He smiled ruefully. “Finn, Leo, I love you both so so much. Like, more than anything. I don’t know what I would do without you. And....” he trailed off. Leo and Finn exchanged a confused glance. “Well, merde, here we go.”

In one smooth movement, he dropped to his knee, opening the box in his hands, two silver rings sitting on the velvet inside.

Leo’s hands went to his mouth, Finn reaching out blindly to grip his shoulder. Leo grabbed his hand. Both of them were staring at Logan.

“Mon amours, will you marry me?”

It was quiet for a long time, Finn and Leo left staring in complete amazement. This was not what they had expected when they started dinner.

“Lo,” Finn whispered, staring at him, tears shining in his eyes. “Holy shit. Holy shit.”

And then he rushed at Logan, collapsing into his arms and kissing him senseless, nearly knocking both of them over. In the next moment, Leo was there too, wrapping his arms around both of them, kissing any part of Logan he could reach, heart pounding wildly

“I love you I love you I love you,” Finn murmured over and over, words slurring together as he kissed Logan's cheeks and neck and lips, unable to get enough.

“So is that a yes?” Logan choked out and both boys paused.

“Of course it’s a yes, baby,” Leo sniffed, fighting back tears

“Yes yes, a thousand times yes,” Finn added and Logan could’ve cried with relief and joy, because the loves of his life just agreed to marry him and never in a million years had he ever imagined this happening. An overwhelming sense of love washed over him, and he was so fucking grateful that he had found them, that they found each other, and they can be together and happy and married.

Never in a million years had any of them imagined this would happen. But there they were, together, crying and laughing and kissing, Logan sliding rings on their fingers, falling tangled to the floor in a mess of frantic hands and wet kisses. Logan never wanted to move again.

Leo fought the urge to pace as he listened to the phone ringing. Logan and Finn were waiting for him in their bedroom, urging him to call before they went to bed. His heart was pounding. He wasn’t quite sure why. But he was excited and in love and possibly a little bit drunk. There was a click as the line connected.

“Mama?” he asked, fighting to keep his voice steady.

“Hey, baby!” her familiar voice chirped, and he relaxed marginally. “What’s goin’ on with you?”

“Um, well I have some news.”

“Oh! Well, the last time you had some ‘news’ it was to tell us about Finn and Leo.” Leo couldn’t fight a small laugh. He could sense his mom narrowing her eyes at that. “What kind of news do you have exactly?”

“The good kind,” he promised, unable to fight a smile.

“I’ll go get your father, shall I?”

“Yeah, yeah I think you should.” It was quiet for a few moments, before Leo heard his dad talking faintly, presumably asking who was on the phone.

“Okay, he’s here,” her voice came back louder.

“Hey bud,” Wyatt said, “What’s this news you have?”

“Um…” he trailed off, unsure how to say it. He scrubbed a hand over his face, unsure why he was so nervous all of a sudden. His parents had been nothing but supportive, so why was he freezing?

“Leo?”

“Sorry. Um… well, Logan, uh, he proposed tonight.”

The phone went dead silent for a long moment, and all Leo heard was the pounding of his heart. Then his mother shrieked and the dam broke.

“Oh my god, really? Baby, that’s amazing!”

“Did you say yes? I’m assuming you said yes, considering how happy you are.”

“Yeah Dad, I said yes,” Leo laughed, pressing a hand to his cheek. His face hurt from smiling. He wasn’t sure he was ever going to stop smiling. “Both of us did.”

“Aww my baby’s getting married!” his mom shrieked, and Leo could just imagine the elated look on both of their faces.

“Le, that’s so exciting!” his dad exclaimed. All Leo could do was laugh.

“Have you set a date yet?”

“No, Mom, he just asked a few hours ago,” he laughed, shaking his head. “You guys are the first ones I’ve told.”

“Oh, honey, that’s amazing.”

“Yeah. I’m really excited.”

“Oh, well we should let you get back to your boys, call us in the morning okay? I want to hear everything.”

“Okay, I will,” he promised.

“And honey, I am so proud of you. So proud.”

“Thanks, Mama. I love you, both of you.”

“We love you too, honey.”

After Leo hung up, setting his phone down on the coffee table, he sat for a moment, taking it all in. His parents knew, they were excited and happy. He never could have imagined this happening.

He sighed happily, pushing himself off the couch and heading for the bedroom. His boys were in bed, Logan lying on top of Finn with his face buried in the crook of his neck. But he looked up as Leo padded into the room, smiling sweetly up at him.

“Hey Peanut,” he sighed. “How’d it go?”

“They were really excited,” Leo said, grinning. He climbed onto the bed beside them, slotting himself against Finn’s side and running a soft hand through Logan’s hair, leaning into the both of them. “My mom wanted to know if we’d set a date yet.” Logan laughed at that, Finn smiling down at him.

“Nah, we got time.”

“So much time.”

Finn held up his hand, admiring the silver band sitting on his finger. “I can’t believe it’s really happening,” he sighed. Logan grasped his hand, fiddling with the ring.

“Me neither,” he admitted.

A thought occurred to Finn just then. “Lo, we both have rings, but did you get one for yourself?”

Logan could only laugh, shaking his head. “I knew you were gonna ask that,” he muttered. “Yes, Fish, I got myself a ring too. It’s in my bedroom. You’re so ridiculous.”

“Hey! Who are you calling ridiculous?”

“Both of you.” Leo grinned, leaning up to kiss the pout off Finn’s face, feeling Logan’s lips on his jaw as he did. “I love you both,” he murmured. “So fucking much.”

“We love you too, Nutter Butter.”

“I can’t believe we’re getting married.”

“I can’t believe you two ruined my proposal.”

“What do you mean?”

“Fucking- I had a plan! It was all romantic and shit, and then you two ruined it by getting all concerned.”

“Well, what was your plan?”

Logan grumbled for a moment before reluctantly responding. “I was gonna ask on Christmas Eve, y’know, after we’d read The Night Before Christmas and were on the couch watching cheesy movies with the lights all off except the tree. There was gonna be cookies and hot chocolate and it was gonna be super romantic. I was gonna leave you both speechless for the rest of the night!” he finished, sweeping an arm out dramatically. “And then you went and got worried. I was doing so good too.” Finn could hear the pout in Logan’s voice.

“Aw, mon rouge,” Leo crooned, kissing his temple. “It’s okay. You can always do it again in a week.”

“Hmph.”

“Now come here so I can kiss you properly.” Logan rolled his eyes but pushed himself up, leaning over to Leo and kissing him sweetly, pushing him back against the bed.

“I love you,” Leo whispered. Finn smiled as he watched them, content to just look at them, feeling the weight of Logan still on top of him, the heat of Leo beside him. He looked at the ring on his finger, the matching one on Leo’s hand, imagining the one that would soon be on Logan’s finger too. It was more than he’d ever dreamed of, more than he’d ever thought he would have. And he knew without asking that his fiancés felt the same.

They were so incredibly lucky.

#o'knutzy #sweater weather #coast to coast #lumosinlove #proposal #christmas eve #fluff #love #so much love #they're so adorable i can't #im-oknutzy-trash #secret santa #remus john lupin #advent #december 24

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luninosity · 4 years

Text

And - final @evanstanweek fic!

Prompt 7, “holidays,” this time...which, um...became International Talk Like A Pirate Day. And implied imminent sex, and piratical roleplay, and terrible, terrible jokes. And maybe something like a marriage proposal. 1,490 words, no warnings.

Read at AO3 here! Or here on tumblr below.

“Hey, Seb,” Chris says.

Sebastian, lazily settled against Chris’s chest and halfway through reading a script for a potential upcoming Shakespeare adaptation, looks up and says, “For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?”

Chris laughs, and retorts with, “I do love nothing in the world so well as you,” because Chris knows Much Ado About Nothing decently well, too. “Know what day it is?”

“Saturday?”

“Yeah, but also International Talk Like A Pirate Day. Scott just sent me like ten terrible pirate jokes. What does a pirate use his cellphone for?”

“Oh my god,” Sebastian says.

“Booty calls.”

“No.”

“Come on, that was awesome. All of these…arrrr.”

“I’ll divorce you,” Sebastian threatens, not seriously because he’s extremely comfortable right here in morning sunshine on the pillowy sofa with Chris at his back and Dodger draped over their feet.

“You like terrible puns,” Chris says, “I know you do,” and then, “wait, we’re not even married!”

“Exactly,” Sebastian retorts, with emphasis, and goes back to squabbling Shakespearean lovers.

“You’re thinking about us being married.” Chris points a finger at him. “You love me. And the terrible puns.”

“If you say anything about a Jolly Roger,” Sebastian says, “we’re not having sex for like a week.”

“Can I ask if you’re prepared to be boarded?”

Sebastian sighs, sits up, and kisses the love of his life, mostly because that’s always a good distraction. It works like a charm; Chris dives into kissing him and being kissed with every drop of enthusiasm that makes up that huge rainbow-hued exuberant heart.

Kind of unfortunately, Sebastian’s head also briefly pictures Chris in a pirate’s hat. With a parrot.

He resolutely ignores that image, and climbs into Chris’s lap, instead.

Around lunchtime, Chris asks what he feels like as far as food. Sebastian opens his mouth, and then Chris says, “If we were pirates we could get barr-beque,” and Sebastian throws a couch-pillow at him.

Chris apologizes for that one, though he’s laughing. Sebastian sighs.

They get pizza, in the end.

“Hey, Seb,” Chris says later, as they’re turning toward home, out with Dodger in the afternoon breeze, wandering around under trees like ruffled green dancers beneath a big blue sky.

“Don’t you dare,” Sebastian says, hand held securely in Chris’s.

“Why couldn’t the pirates play cards?”

“Because the captain was standing on the deck,” Sebastian says.

Chris’s whole face lights up. “You know that one?”

Sebastian narrows eyes at him. “It was the logical answer!”

“Why’re you anti-pirate?”

“I’m actually not,” Sebastian says. “I’m kind of pro-pirate. Plundering, specifically. Getting, um, pillaged behind that tree.”

“I love your ideas,” Chris agrees, and pushes him up against a friendly tree trunk and kisses him and gets hands all over him, pinning his wrists to tree-bark, sneaking under his shirt, pushing between Sebastian’s thighs, with Chris’s body large and hot and hard and adoring and pressed up against him. They make out in the woods until they’re both breathless and giddy and Sebastian’s about one caress away from coming in his pants, laughing, clinging to Chris, a leaf in his hair and mud on his boots, loving everything about his life.

Chris kind of gives up on the talk-like-a-pirate day jokes, after that. Possibly this is because Sebastian’s distractions via sex have worked, or possibly not; either way, Chris seems apologetic about it, and even makes dinner, one of his mom’s cozy classic pasta recipes. He also opens a new bottle of decently expensive red wine Sebastian hadn’t known they had, and grabs the space-themed wineglass, the one etched with tiny stars.

“I don’t mind your terrible pirate puns,” Sebastian says. Chris prefers beer, he knows.

“Yeah, I know. I don’t know.” Chris shrugs. “Just felt like being nice to you.”

“Why pirate day or whatever it is, again?”

Chris shrugs again. “Just kinda fun? Random?”

Sebastian considers Chris’s face, and the wineglass, and his own love. And then looks down at his toes, and tells Chris, “I’m wearing the wrong socks, then.”

“Huh?”

“Y’know, for the whole pirate thing. They should be, what…arrr-gyle?”

“Oh my god,” Chris says, “I love you, I fucking love you, Seb.”

“I might need more wine,” Sebastian says. “Especially if it’s from the…sand bar.” It’s the actual worst joke he’s ever made.

Chris starts laughing so hard he has to grab the counter, and also Sebastian’s shoulder.

Sebastian grins. Even his socks feel smug.

They’re too full after pasta to do much about pillaging, so they flop down on the sofa and watch a documentary about Mars for a while. Chris gets a fire going, and the wind purrs outside, and Dodger’s snoring in his bed, and it’s so domestic and so perfect that Sebastian’s eyes get a little prickly and his heart feels a little shaky. Sometimes he still can’t believe it: being here, being part of Chris’s life. Himself, Sebastian Stan. Loved so deeply and so well.

Because he loves Chris so damn much, he leans over to bite Chris’s shoulder. Chris grins and pets his hair, and even tugs slightly, because they both know how that dominance goes right to Sebastian’s head and stomach and happy cock; it does now, too, as usual.

“You want me to do something about that,” Chris beckons, “maybe take care of you a little, if you’re needing some attention, Seb?” and his voice turns all low and rumbly and commanding, and fuck yeah, but:

“One sec,” Sebastian announces, and hops up, and runs to their bedroom. He’s got a plan.

He doesn’t have a whole lot that he can work with as far as costumes, pirates not having been a feature of most of his random daydreams, but he’s come up with a few ideas. A loose open white shirt, skinny black pants, a scarf tied around his waist. Some eyeliner. Some of his older jewelry, chunky extravagant rings and necklaces. He grins at himself in the mirror: some sort of haphazard pirate-steampunk-twink grins right back.

He runs back out to the living room, where Chris is sitting up and being kind of puzzled, though that expression shifts the second Sebastian pops back in. Chris groans, “You’re just doing this to fuck with me, now, aren’t you…”

“I was kind of hoping you’d be doing the fucking,” Sebastian says helpfully. “You know. On board with that. You can, um, come bury your…treasure…right here.”

“Jesus,” Chris mutters, but he’s shaking his head, smiling, trying not to laugh. “Okay, okay, point made. Got it. Aye, captain. Or something.”

“You’re right,” Sebastian says. “This is fun. Come claim my booty. Your booty. However that works. I’m all yours anyway.” He is. Body, heart, soul: everything he’s got, everything he is. He’s Chris’s.

“I love you.” Chris gets up and comes over, hands settling on Sebastian’s shoulders, drawing him in close. “Where’d you find the scarf?”

“It’s an old one. I thought maybe you could tie me up with it. Bend me over the bed—the railing, the captain’s bunk, whatever—and have your way with me.”

“Are you the pirate, or am I?”

“Maybe I’m your captive,” Sebastian considers. “You know, the dashing daring pirate adventurer that you keep chasing, good upright naval officer that you are, and you’ve finally caught me.”

“And I’m about to do everything I can think of to you,” Chris jumps in. “Make you beg for mercy. Make you bend over for me, and spread those pretty legs. Make you take my cock, and like it.” His hand lifts Sebastian’s chin, fingers biting down: not too hard, and he’s grinning, eyes made of wicked loving conspiratorial blue. “That what you had in mind?”

“Totally,” Sebastian says. “I mean, aye. Yarr. Yo, ho, ho, and rum, and all that. I think I like your holiday. Um. Chris?”

“Yeah?” Chris’s thumb strokes his cheek, too gently for an angry naval officer. “Somethin’ you need, before I haul you off to my cabin?”

“What I said earlier,” Sebastian says, “about being married to you…about us getting married…I mean, this isn’t me asking, it’ll be way more perfect whenever that happens, don’t worry, but…I just wanted to say…yeah. I do think about that. I kind of think about that a lot. I want all the weird random holidays with you. Forever.”

Chris’s smile’s so wide and bright that it fills up the world, every fantasy and every holiday all rolled into one expression. His hand’s still cupping Sebastian’s face; the other comes to rest on Sebastian’s hip, over the scarf, with something like reverence. He says, “Guess what, Seb.”

“Something about pirates and being a good…mate?”

“Well, yeah, obviously that. My mate.” Chris leans in to kiss him; Sebastian’s entire body thrills to the claiming. “But also…we’ve been pretty much thinking the same things, about that. If you were wondering. I want all the weird random holidays and terrible puns and fucking perfect pirate role-play, forever, with you.”

#evanstan #evanstan week #evanstan week 2021 #my fic #holidays #talk like a pirate day #proposals #these boys

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idreamofplaid · 4 years

Text

Crystal Ball

Square Filled: Bookstore AU for @spnfluffbingo; College AU for @spngenrebingo; Sam for @spnchristmasbingo

Characters: Sam x Reader; Pamela mentioned

Rating: Explicit

Tags: oral (male receiving)

Summary: The reader sees an unexpected and wonderful glimpse of her future.

Word Count: 2220

Knowledge is yours if you seek it. That’s what the sign by the front door said. The only thing Y/ cared about seeking right now was some time alone with Sam, some quality time. It would be two more hours until that could happen because the bookstore didn’t close until eleven. Y/N would have to content herself with stealing glances at Sam between customers for now.

He was comfortably settled in his favorite spot to study in one of the reading areas her Aunt Pamela had created to keep the atmosphere of the store “cozy yet mystical”. Pamela had worked for years as a psychic to save the money to buy this place and turn it into something that matched the vision in her head. She had a reading room in the back where she saw clients three days a week by appointment only; the years of hard work had paid off, allowing her to have a much lighter schedule now. Business was good for Crystal Ball Books, allowing Pamela to spend the fruits of her labor in the Caribbean this holiday season. That meant there was no chance of her making a surprise appearance in the bookstore tonight, which was exactly what Y/N wanted because she had plans after all these people were gone. They were sexy, seductive, get Sam naked plans.

If only all these people would disappear, but the store was filled with students and locals tonight, looking for holiday gifts or just hanging out with a cup of herbal tea or a coffee to escape the stress of finals week. The place was organized into distinct areas based on subject matter, creating a unique atmosphere in each area, and people were in all of them. There was a section devoted to Chakras where all the colors of the rainbow were represented. It was bright and had a lively energy with wind chimes and crystals accenting the space. Another, and one of Y/N’s favorite areas, was the Native American spirituality “room”. It was in a nook near the front entrance. There was always white sage burning there to keep the space cleansed, and the feeling when you walked among those shelves that contained not only books but Native American art and smudging supplies for sale was serene.

Sam was in the Celtic section of the store. It was filled with earthy colors, and statues of Celtic gods and goddesses were scattered throughout the tall shelves along with the books. This was also where the Yule/Christmas tree was located. It was by the light of this tree and the strings of holiday lights adorning the bookshelves that Sam was studying for his American Folklore final.

Y/N was putting some new books on Feng Shui out in the Eastern Traditions corner which gave her a perfect sight line to stop what she was doing and enjoy the view of Sam. He was running his long, thick, graceful fingers through his hair absentmindedly while he concentrated on the book on his lap. She wished it was her fingers in his hair, feeling its silky softness slide through them. He bit his bottom lip and turned the page. Y/N stared at his mouth. She was going to push him down on that sofa and kiss him until she could feel him getting hard against her and…. “Excuse me.” The voice jarred her right out of that glorious vision. “Where are the books on auras?”

It was a long two hours, and being constantly busy didn’t make it pass any faster. When Y/N had finally sent the other two employees home and locked the door behind the last customer, she couldn’t get to Sam fast enough. He was still buried in his books. Y/N took the book he was currently reviewing out of his hand and read the title, “Ghosts of the Midwest”. She tossed it onto the table beside the couch and sat on his lap, straddling him.

“Haven’t you had enough ghosts for tonight?” She laid her palms flat on his chest and leaned down to kiss the side of his neck. Sam put his hands on her waist and held her in place. She felt his body relax, and he moaned signaling his pleasure to her. She kissed her way down his neck until she got to his sweatshirt. “You know you’re going to make an A anyway.”

Sam laughed, and she raised her head to see what was so funny. He pushed her hair out of her face so he could see her better and let his hand rest on the side of her head, holding it with his fingers threaded through her hair. “Those A’s don’t happen automatically, and I can’t let up now if I’m going to get into a good graduate school.”

Sam had a plan for his life. He was going to research the paranormal and teach others about it. That was one of the things that was so attractive about him. He knew what he wanted without letting ambition take him over. She smiled at him and ran her fingertip over his bottom lip that she’d watched him nibble on earlier. “You’re going to be one of those young, sexy professors whose classes fill up every semester with girls and guys who want to stare at you and think all kinds of dirty thoughts.”

Sam slid his hand down her back until he got to her ass and squeezed. “Are you jealous already?” His other hand was still holding her head, and he pulled her mouth down to his. He kissed her deeply, swirling his tongue around hers until she felt his cock start to stiffen beneath her. Then he trailed a line of kisses across her cheek to her ear and whispered, “Don’t worry. I don’t want anybody else in my bed. Don’t want to feel anybody else tight around me, making me come.”

Y/N felt her stomach get all tight and fluttery, and her core started to tingle. He pulled back, and she saw his eyes were dark with desire. “I want to make you come now, Sam.” She pushed his sweatshirt up to get to his belt and started to unbuckle it. When she finished unbuckling and unzipping, Sam lifted his hips and pushed down his jeans and underwear. His cock was semi hard, long, thick, and beautiful. Y/N lowered herself to her knees in front of him and took his cock in her hand, loving the feel and the weight of it as she held it. Then she took it into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the tip before swallowing it down until it touched the back of her throat.

Sam stretched his arms across the top of the sofa and lay his head back against it, letting out a deep satisfied sigh. She bobbed her head on him until he was fisting the back of the sofa and calling out her name. She fondled his balls while she sucked and licked until she felt his hand on the back of her head. “Y/N, wait.” She looked up at him and slipped her mouth from his leaking dick. “I want to come inside you. Make you feel good too.”

He stripped off his sweatshirt and pulled her to him, crashing his mouth on hers in a hungry kiss. “I want you, Y/N. Take your clothes off for me.” She broke the kiss and started a striptease for him. Slowly, she pulled her shirt up and off. Sam’s eyes raked over her breasts and the silky red, holiday perfect, bra she was wearing with a tiny bow in the middle.

He licked his lips while Y/N reached behind her back to undo the clasps. She slipped the straps seductively down her arms, exposing her breasts to him. “Do you want a taste, Sam?” He lowered his head to her chest and took one of her nipples into his mouth. Sam had made her come before just using his mouth and hands on her breasts, and what he was doing to her right now made her think it might happen again. “Oh fuck, Sam. That feels amazing.” She grabbed the back of his head to hold him to her. He continued to lick and tease her hardened nub with his teeth while he eased his hand down into her pants.

He found her clit and began to rub it in slow, deliberate circles. The double stimulation had her writhing and begging him for release. “Please, Sam. Make me come. I need it.”

He switched breasts and started to suck on the other one while his fingers rolled and flicked the nipple still wet from the attention his tongue had given it. Meanwhile, his hand in her pants started to move faster, rushing her closer to the climax she wanted. “C’mon, baby. Do it. I want to feel you come on my fingers.” She shuddered as her orgasm pulsated through her, and she coated Sam’s fingers with her juices.

As her high faded, she went soft under Sam’s touch, and he took her in his arms. “Do you know how hot you look when you come for me like that?”

“No, but I’m glad you like it.” She put her head on his shoulder to catch her breath. Her breathing was beginning to even out when she took his earlobe into her mouth. “I want more, Sam. I want to feel you splitting me open, pounding into me.” She bit down on his earlobe in her mouth hard enough to make him feel it in his growing cock. “Make me scream for you, Sam.”

Sam peeled off her remaining clothes and tossed them on the floor; his jeans and underwear followed. His cock was twitching, hard against his stomach in anticipation. Y/N climbed on top of him and lined his thick shaft up with her entrance, sinking down onto it until she was fully impaled and could feel him pushing against her cervix. She started to ride him, and Sam lifted his hips, thrusting them upward in time with her movements.

Without warning, he flipped her onto her back and hooked his arm under her leg, opening her wide to his now harder and deeper thrusts. His pubic bone was hitting her clit, and she was clawing at his back while she clenched around him. “Sam. Oh, God. I’m gonna...I’m gonna come. Sam!” He covered her mouth with his hand, and she screamed into his palm. She came hard, and just when she was coming down from her climax, he emptied inside her. His hot come coated her inside and triggered another orgasm as strong as the one she’d just had.

Sam took his hand from her mouth, lowered her leg, and nuzzled his nose into the side of her neck. He whispered against her skin, “You are completely beautiful.” He kept talking to her as he slipped from her body and rolled onto his back, settling her on top of him. He reached for the throw with the Celtic knot pattern he’d put on the back of the sofa earlier and covered her with it.

Y/N smiled and kissed his chest. “You were planning this, weren’t you?”

Sam was running his fingers through her hair. “A guy can hope.”

Y/N sighed with contentment. “I was hoping for this too.” She kissed his chest again. “I could barely focus on anything watching you and thinking about what we could be doing instead.”

Sam was still playing with her hair; he had gotten quiet. Y/N could sense the change in his mood. She raised her head to look down at him. “Sam, are you okay?”

She saw him swallow hard; his eyes had gotten reflective and sensitive, about as far from the passionate intensity that had been in them just minutes before as they could get. “I’m gonna be in graduate school at Christmas next year. I don’t know where, but...Y/N, will you go with me?”

He was brushing his thumb across her cheek, waiting for her to say something. The wheels in his mind were still turning; she could see them. She was so surprised at his question that her response was, “You want me to come with you, move to wherever you’re going? Are you asking me to live with you?”

His finger stopped moving on her cheek. “Yeah. I want you with me... because I love you.”

Y/N looked into his eyes; the lights from the tree were shining in them. He was serious. “Oh my God, Sam.”

He started to sit up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“No.” She put her hand on his shoulder to keep him from moving any more. “I mean yes. I want to go with you. I want to be with you.” A smile started to spread across Sam’s face. With her next words, his dimples bloomed. “I love you too.”

Y/N kissed Sam again in the quiet of the bookstore; it was the first time she kissed him knowing he loved her and knowing they had a future together. The sign by the door said, Knowledge is yours if you seek it. She believed now the same was true of love.

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @onethirstyunicorn @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @ledzeppelinsbonzo @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @heycasbutt @jules-1999 @mrsdeannafuckingwinchester @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @mrs-meghan-winchester @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @lonewolf471 @sea040561 @dawnie1988 @volleyballer519 @outcastedangel @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @winchesterxfamilybusiness

Sam/Jared: @girl-next-door-writes @stunudo @feelmyroarrrr @sammit-janet @idabbleincrazy @evansrogerskitten @focusonspn @i-joined-social-media-finally @autumninavonlea @spnxbsessed @durinsbride @deansyahtzee @wendibird @team-free-will-you-idjiot @waywardnerd67 @fullmooner @neii3n @supernatural-took-me-over @julesthequirky

#spnfluffbingo #spngenrebingo #spnchristmasbingo #sam smut #sam fluff #sam x reader

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