#but yeah i gotta find my notes I had so much written down about them in my dumbass phone

[ishizu-ka]

🐶 Sunni doodles!

[wardenparker]

Surprising Reunions, part 1

Joel Miller x Dieter Bravo x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 19.1k Warnings: So so so much cursing, homophobia, hate speech (against gay characters), mentions of domestic abuse (parent/child) and alcoholism, references to drug use, extremely overt flirting, underage sexual activity (MM),  oral sex (m receiving), angst, extremely brief mention of suicidal ideation,  Summary: Joel and Ellie stumble across an occupied hotel in their journey west, and Joel is astonished to find that the inhabitants are his ex-boyfriend Dieter Bravo and his wife. Notes: About a month ago a lovely anon dropped into my askbox with the surprise idea of a Joel x Dieter pairing and Keri and I just about lost our minds over it. What was born in our minds as a smutty little one shot has become a two-part field day of feelings and tension. And I gotta say? I love these two guys together.

The world as it was twenty years ago is broken. Irrevocably so. However, in many ways, it’s a lot smaller than it was back then. When people scattered and the only way you found out about them was if someone else had known them. Travel was dangerous, friendships now vital for survival and yet, Joel found himself both traveling and forming a bond with a mouthy, moody teenager that liked stupid jokes that he would secretly grin over and shake his head at how much she reminded him of him. And Sarah, but mostly him for the simple fact that she had the same resilient fortitude that he had admired when he was friends with the one openly bisexual kid in Austin, Texas in the early nineties.

"Hey Joel." Ellie sidles up next to the older man as they walk, her steps invigorated with the physical need to tell the joke she's just dug out of the depths of the book she keeps squirreled away in her backpack. She's been saving it for a good time and Joel looks particularly grumpy today. Although that's really just the way his face is. "Joel." She hops in front of him and starts walking backwards with a grin splitting her face open. "Why can't you hear a pterodactyl going to the bathroom?"

Joel rolls his eyes and lets out a long-suffering sigh. Even though he knows the answer to the joke, he gives her a look of confusion that would rival the best Bowie High School drama club, of which he had been very familiar with. “Why?” He huffs at her.

The way she snickers and giggles so much that she can barely get out the punchline is half the joy of the whole moment, until Ellie finally bursts out with: "Because the pee is silent!" And doubles over cackling with glee as they continue down the road.

“Jesus Christ.” Joel readjusts his pack on his back and turns his head to hide his own grin. “Your jokes are horrible.” He grumbles at her when he finally looks back at the laughing teenager.

"Then why are you laughing?" She shoots back, long since having learned what it means when Joel hides his face from her after she delivers a particularly groan-worthy punchline. "Ya old softie. Laughing at bad jokes."

“You’re an idiot.” Joel rolls his eyes again for good measure and is once again reminded of when he was accused of being a softie by someone else. Why he was on Joel’s mind, he couldn’t say. Maybe he was getting sentimental in his old age.

"You like it." There isn't an ounce of doubt in her voice, like she knows damn well that he would have gotten rid of her long ago if Joel didn't have some kind of attachment to her. It's probably true. Promise or otherwise, there are plenty of times he could have left her behind, but he hadn't. They walk a little longer before Ellie opens her mouth again, this time with a frown on her face. "It's gonna start getting dark soon," she observes, looking up into the sky. Normally this is the point at which Joel starts looking for someplace to make camp. "There was a sign for a hotel back there. Like a half mile ago, I think?"

“Yeah.” Joel frowns and nods up ahead. “Should be about half a mile up the road.” The crumbling, overgrown road isn’t a major highway, but it had been void of people and infected so he counted that as a blessing. “Looks to be a fancy place like you wanted to see.”

"Cool." Ellie swings her arms and takes a few steps faster than the last. "Maybe the beds won't all be disgusting. I'd kill to sleep on a mattress tonight instead of the ground."

Joel snorts. “Who the hell are you tellin’? My back is killing me.” There’s not a day that goes by that something doesn’t ache, but he just pushes through. Still, it’ll be good to get a good night's sleep.

“Old man.” Ellie snorts, although each time she says it it’s slightly fonder than the last. Like she’s finally accepting the fact that the old curmudgeon isn’t that bad.

“Fifty-six years old.” He grumbles, shaking his head again. Maybe the hotel would have some canned goods they could pilfer. Nothing like a giant can of green beans or corn to fill the kid’s stomach.

“Old old man.” Ellie corrects herself with a smirk. “Ancient-as-fuck old man.” The hotel that appears on the horizon as they walk is about a hundred years old from the look of it. Art Deco outsides far from the glory they once exuded and probably housing nothing but dilapidated shadows of a world long gone. Still, it’s standing. And it doesn’t have any holes missing from the look of it, so that’s better than a lot of places they’d been up until now. “Coooool!” Ellie crows, getting a good look at the sign as they walk. Once upon a time, the light-up marquee would have announced The Promenade loudly and proudly. Now it’s rusty, but at least it’s still standing.

“You know the drill, kid.” Joel cautions her as they draw closer. “We scope out the interior, look for food and then we’ll get set up with a place to sleep.” The wariness in the pit of his stomach is common every time they do this, but it makes him more cautious as he squints to survey the surroundings.

“I know.” She nods, having agreed long ago that what Joel said was law. Even if she pokes and prods at him sometimes, she’s learned that setting up camp isn’t a good time for teasing.

“Good.” He smirks slightly. “Maybe we can order room service.” He jokes, noticing a glint of metal on the top floor and he stares hard at it for a moment before he realizes it’s a piece of aluminum from the air conditioning units on the roof.

“Oh, sure.” That makes Ellie snort and roll her eyes. “A bacon cheeseburger and all the fries I can eat and an ice cream sundae.” Things she had really only read about in books or saw on signs as they traveled. What she would give for one of the roadside McDonald’s they found to actually be operational.

“Extra bacon.” Joel agrees, nodding. “With ketchup and hot sauce on the fries.” Too bad the kid couldn’t have actually had something like that. She would love it.

“Goddamn I want to try French fries.” Ellie grumbles, only to have Joel put out his hand to silence her a second later. He must have seen something inside. The large glass panels in the tops of the doors give you a decent view of the lobby from outside.

“Take your gun out.” Joel orders, pulling his own revolver out so he holds it in his hand as the pace slows. Approaching the doors quietly and listening as he looks through the dirty glass.

Ellie gulps, complying silently and falling in line behind Joel. He doesn’t like her to even touch the gun she carries unless absolutely necessary, so the time for teasing is definitely over. Inside the windows they can make out two figures. They’re not heavily armed from what Joel and Ellie can see, and they don’t seem to be aware of their fast-approaching visitors. Are they— dancing? “The hell?” Ellie breathes out, almost laughing when she realizes yes – that is just a couple of weirdo adults dancing inside that abandoned hotel lobby.

“Fucking hell.” Joel narrows his eyes and searches for any signs of it being an ambush. He’s seen weirder ploys to catch people off guard. “Don’t fucking speak.” He warns as he decides if it’s better to go inside or find somewhere else. Except there’s nowhere else for miles. The decision is made by the dark clouds off to the west and he sighs. “Okay?” He turns and looks at Ellie seriously.

Ellie nods, making the motion of zipping her lips shut and throwing away the key. The last thing she wants is to get shot. She’s not immune to that.

Joel sighs before he grabs the patinated handle of the heavy front door and yanks it open. “Quit moving, turn around.” He orders, quickly stepping through the door and leveling the gun at the man and woman in the lobby.

“Jesus fuck!” Dieter doesn’t mean to be so startled – it happens easily these days – but he does feel like an ass for dropping you when someone bursts through the front door of the hotel that hasn’t seen any other occupants in seven years. “Don’t shoot!”

 “Fuck—fuck!” You scramble to your feet, grabbing a pistol of your own off the nearby check in counter. “Who the fuck are you? What do you want?” The words are a demand as you put yourself between this newcomer and the man you’ve lived with for twenty-five years. Not a stitch of armor on you but it doesn’t matter. You’d take the bullet if it came to that.

“Are you alone?” Joel demands gruffly, his eyes darting between the two of you before he narrows his eyes and leans in. “D-Dieter!?” he spits out. “Is that you?”

The man behind you sticks his wary head out, always suspicious of anyone who recognizes him, especially twenty years after the world more or less ended. “Fucking—Joel?!” He chokes out, nearly shouting in your ear and pulling on your arm. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. He’s—he’s okay. Holy shit man.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, that is you.” Joel doesn’t know who the fuck you are, but he knows anyone with Dieter isn’t a threat to him. Holstering his gun, he shocks Ellie by rushing forward and grabbing Dieter to pull him into a bone crushing hug. He was probably the last person he had expected to find on the road to Wyoming but he’s glad to see him.

It’s debatable who is more confused - you or the teenager that has been trailing behind this Joel - and you and she find yourselves pointing your guns at each other for a moment while the two men embrace before you click the safety back into place. If this is the Joel that you’ve heard about, you’re safe. If it’s someone else, Dieter will explain. At least the kid has the decency to pull the door shut behind her after she lowers her own gun.

******

“Stupid faggot.” The words are accompanied by another punch to the stomach and gangly Dieter Black doubles over with a grunt of pain. The group of kids surrounding them weren't exactly coy in their dislike of anyone different from them and Dieter had become their latest target. Mike Robinson laughs and pushes Dieter back against the lockers, smug and leaning into his personal space as he gasps for breath. “What’re you gonna do, bitch boy?” He taunts. “Cry? Piss yourself?” He draws his fist back again, ready to break the queer’s nose when suddenly someone shoves through the crowd.

 “Fucking asshole!” Joel wasn’t as stocky as Robinson, but that was because he ate less McDonald’s and was on the baseball team. Fury twists his features, and he doesn’t hesitate to use all 5 '11” of his frame to shove the other boy away from Dieter. “Why don’t you fight me?” He challenges, bowing up slightly and using his broad frame to look bigger. “I’m not your size, but I’ll wipe the floor with your ass, pussy.” He spits.

“Gotta teach the fucking faggot a lesson!” Robinson barks, though his fist does lower slightly after scrabbling to his feet. Miller has a reputation for ending fights even if he wasn’t the one who started them.

Dieter slumps when Joel’s bulk comes into view, knowing that - for now at least - he’s safe. Miller has never said much beyond fending off the bullies, but Dieter is grateful. Offering to help the baseball star pass English out of gratitude for saving him from a few ass whippings.

“Gonna have to go through me, fat ass.” Joel scoffs, sending him a smirk that tells the kid he would like nothing more. Coach Johnson couldn’t risk Joel not playing in Friday’s game considering he had the highest batting average on the team and was currently on a hitting streak. Not this close to the championship. So this little incident would be swept under the rug. “What’s the matter? Pissed off that he wouldn’t kiss your shit smelling mouth?”

“As if I would ever fuckin—” Robinson sputters, looking to his goons for back up but they’re no help. They don’t want to get their asses kicked by Joel Miller anymore than he does. “Filthy fucking queer!” He spits, pounding his fist into the locker beside Dieter’s head so hard one of his knuckles makes a dent. It’s worth the pain for the way the little worm squirms and flinches. “C’mon boys,” he orders his cronies. “You’re lucky I’m feeling fuckin’ nice today, Black!”

Joel clenches his fists as he watches the bullies turn around and stride off like they are being benevolent. He doesn’t say anything, although he wants to. Only when they turn the corner does he glance over at Dieter. “You alright, man?” He asks gruffly, bending down to pick up the backpack that had been knocked out of his hands.

“Yeah.” Dieter sniffles, hiding his face from the other boy. It doesn’t help his case at all that the one person who keeps saving his ass is the one he’s always fantasizing about. “Yeah,” he mutters again and reaches for his backpack. “You don’t have to keep doing that, ya know.”

Joel looks over at Dieter and notices the fading remnants of a black eye and his jaw clenches slightly. “Yeah I do.” He lets go of the backpack and steps back.

“They’re gonna start thinking you’re my friend.” He protests, knowing that that wouldn’t be good for the athlete’s reputation. To be known friends with a drama geek loser who routinely gets beat up wouldn’t be good. Even Joel Miller couldn’t survive that for too long.

“Fuck ‘em.” Joel shrugs and rolls his eyes. “I can kick all their asses and if they keep fucking around, I will.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks around, the halls now deserted. “You headed to science or theatre?”

Dieter stares blankly, wondering how Joel knows his schedule, before he re-composes his face and stammers out “Th-theatre.” He shuffles his bag higher in his shoulder and glances down the empty hallway. “You?” He pretends not to know. That he doesn’t have his impossible crush’s schedule memorized. This is Joel’s free period, which means he’ll probably be going down to the gym.

“Free period.” Joel offers. “Plannin’ on going for a run out in the woods past the baseball fields.” He turns towards the theatre hall and starts walking. He gets three steps before he realizes that Dieter isn’t coming and turns back to look at him. “You comin’?”

“It’s the other way.” Dieter feels like an idiot, pointing his thumb in the direction of the locker room and the front entrance of the school where he would have to go out to go for a run. Theater classes are in the auditorium, which is the exact opposite direction. “You’re—you— you’re going the wrong way.” He stammers out, eyes down on the floor.

“Walkin’ you to class.” Joel tells him, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “So you don’t have to worry about those assholes.”

"Oh." He feels like a moron, and it probably shows on his face, but Dieter rushes to get in step with Joel. His pathetic little crush might be miles out of reach, but he's not stupid enough to turn down the opportunity to spend just two more minutes in Joel's shadow. "I—um...thanks."

“No problem.” Joel isn’t great with words and comes off sarcastic half the time and angry the other half, but he gives a huff that could be interpreted as a small sound of embarrassment. “They’re wrong.” He says after a minute and a hundred feet down the hall. “About you.”

Dieter's eyes flash up to Joel's face, and though both boys are the same height, Joel is built broader and stronger than Dieter is. He feels downright gangly next to the athlete. "No." He mutters, shaking his head. "They're not. That...that's the problem."

“What? Because you're gay?” Joel huffs, shaking his head. “That’s not true because I saw you making out with Tabitha Nuñez last month.”

"Except..." It makes his stomach twist, never having said any of this out loud to another person. He's read the words, or heard them said, but owning them himself is an entirely new experience. "I kind of am. I mean...you can like both, ya know? It's possible. So they're kind of...half right."

“So?” Joel’s stomach twists and he shrugs again. “Doesn’t mean they get to beat the shit out of you.” He growls, pissed off that they had been pounding on Dieter when it’s obvious that he doesn’t fight back. “He give you that black eye?”

"No." Bowing his head again to keep the eyesore out of sight, Dieter shuffles awkwardly along beside Joel. "That was my dad." The discovery of his magazine stash had been a rude awakening in the Black house. He's honestly just lucky that he didn't get kicked out before he left for school this morning.

“Fucker.” Joel hisses, shaking his head and he reaches out and slaps Dieter on the shoulder. Not too hard, so he doesn’t think he’s treating him like everyone else. “So come stay at my house tonight.” He offers. “Parents are away…again.”

Stopping dead in his tracks, Dieter feels slack and tense all at once, like he's going to shake apart out of confusion and...happiness? Is that what this feeling is? "Why are you being so nice to me?" He demands, his slight drawl making him sound more aggravated than curious. He just doesn't fucking understand it.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Joel frowns, thoroughly confused at the anger in Dieter’s tone. “Would you rather I was an asshole to you?” Maybe he resented him helping, the idea makes Joel’s heart drop, but he doesn’t show it.

"I just don't see what's in it for you." Dieter had offered to help Joel pass English - the only class they had together - but Joel had never said yes or no. He had just huffed something noncommittal and headed for class when the bell rang. He's used to people wanting things from him - even if all they wanted him for was to be a punching bag. "I—I mean you're...you're literally one of the most popular kids in school and you don't have to spare me a second fucking look but you're always so fucking nice to me and I never see you be nice to anyone else. I don't get it."

Joel turns his head and just stares at Dieter, wondering if the other boy was just fucking with him or if he had really not understood. He guesses it’s not as obvious. “Really?” He asks, rolling his eyes. He glances at the bathroom signs and then around the deserted hallway before he grabs Dieter’s shoulder to shove him into the boy’s side.

Well that answers that, Dieter thinks as Joel pulls him into the cramped bathroom. He just wanted a target alone. It's shattering, the way Dieter can feel his own tender heart breaking as he braces to be beaten up by the one person he thought was on his side. It's better to just get it over with, he tells himself.

Joel is sweating bullets and he glances around the bathroom to make sure that there is no one around. Furtively glancing either way once more as he keeps Dieter up against the cream-colored tile before he lets him go. Swallowing harshly before he leans in, hoping he doesn’t lose his nerve before quickly pressing his lips to the other boy’s before leaning back just as fast. “There, happy?” He demands nervously, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans and looking anywhere but Dieter in case he had just fucked up.

"You—" One hand flies to his lips immediately, like he can't trust his own senses to tell him what just happened, and he knows that he's staring because he can barely breathe. "But you were dating Alison Harcourt all last year!"

“Yeah.” Joel nods and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I was. But what you said— you know, about both….” He shrugs defensively. “Whatever…you shouldn’t get the shit kicked out of you for it.” It’s a fucking risk and he’s almost about to throw up, thinking that he had read Dieter wrong. Just because he was…queer…didn’t mean he liked every boy. Joel knows that very well. Maybe he didn’t like him.

"I didn't know." Dieter murmurs, making sure he keeps his voice down so that no one passing in the hallway would know that there were people in this bathroom. The very last thing they need right now is to be discovered. He steps toward Joel cautiously, like he's approaching his mom's easily spooked dog, and touches his shoulder to make the older boy look up at him. "I won't tell anybody," he promises solemnly. "This is just between us."

Joel stares at Dieter for another minute before he nods. “O-okay.” He rasps out. “So—are you gonna come sleep over? Or no?” He had meant the offer. His parents were rarely home, to the point where he had practically raised his younger brother Tommy. If Dieter was getting hit at home, he could come crash with them.

"Yeah." Dieter bobbles his head awkwardly. His fingers grazed Joel's arm for just a second too long and now they're tingling. Maybe he's imagining it - he has a damn good imagination after all - but Joel feels warm to him. Warm and enticing. "Yeah. I'm gonna come sleep over."

“Okay.” Joel’s head also goes up and down. “Practice was canceled today, so we can leave after school.” He looks around again. “Come on. Mr. Mackie bitches when you’re late, right?”

"Yeah." He can't remember if he told Joel that or if it's just something that he knew, but Dieter grins, blushing a little that Joel has remembered little things like that. That Joel kissed him. Even if he could tell people, they would never believe him. "Mostly because they can't start without me," he boasts gently, puffing up his chest. "I'm the star for this show."

“I know.” Joel smirks at the pride in Dieter’s voice. “You’re gonna be a big movie star one day. I know it.”

******

"You're alive." Dieter finds himself getting misty-eyed with his arms around his former lover. It doesn't matter that it's been more than twenty years since he actually saw Joel face-to-face. "You're fucking alive." He pulls back to look Joel in the face, seeing those decades reflected back at him. "It's been a long fucking time."

“Me?” Joel shakes his head and pulls him in for another hug. “How the fuck did you survive this shit?” Joel had kept up with Dieter’s career, and celebrated his successes with quiet pride. Sarah had rolled her eyes at him and his willingness to own all of Dieter Bravo’s movies, never telling her that he had known him when he was Dieter Black.

"That's what happens when you do as many ‘shrooms as I did in college." Dieter puffs up with a laugh. "The fungi accepted me as one of their own and passed right on by. No more room in the ol' headspace for more to grow." He knows it sounds ridiculous, but it's a more fun theory than your explanation - which is that he was on a no-carb diet at the time of the outbreak to lose weight for a role.

“Hold on— you hug people?” Ellie is holding up her hand and shaking her head like she’s witnessed some sort of miracle. Joel rolls his eyes as he pulls back from Dieter, taking in all the changes that had occurred over the last thirty years, twenty really, since he had watched his movies.

 “So doing all those drugs saved your life, huh?” His eyes slide over to where you are standing, still confused and he points his chin towards you. “Who’s your guard dog?” He hadn’t missed the way Dieter had ducked behind you and figured he was still needing protection more than protecting anyone. He had filled out over the years, but Dieter had always been as non-confrontational as he could possibly be.

“Oh!” Entranced by seeing Joel again, Dieter had apparently forgotten there was anyone else in the room but now he waves for you to come over to him as he introduces you. “Baby, this is Joel.” He tells you excitedly. “Joel from Austin.”

 “Wait…this is Joel?” The name clicks into place with how happy Dieter is to see this man and the slight disbelief in his eyes. He looks almost nostalgic, which is unusual for a man who has admittedly burned a whole lot of memories away with drug use. “Well damn,” you murmur, mostly to yourself. Moving back to the check-in desk a few feet away, you pick up a device with the hand that isn’t holding a gun and hold it up so he can see that it’s a scanner. “Just a formality,” you insist, since you know Dieter won’t let you send these people away. Joel Miller was his first love.

 “Baby…” Dieter gives you a pout, asking you to put the scanner and gun down, before he looks back at Joel. “They told me not to marry my personal assistant but she takes such good fucking care of me.”

Huffing in amusement, Joel shakes his head. "You were never one to be told what to do." He drawls, remembering how obstinate Dieter could be, even if it was to his detriment. Him and Tommy accounted for half his gray hairs even back then. He tilts his neck to the side so you can press the scanner there and it clicks green but when you move towards Ellie, he grabs your arm. "Not the girl." He knows she won't pass.

That’s not a compromise you want to make, but Dieter brushes past it with absolute trust - something that is very rare for him. It took a year of working for him for him to actually trust you, for fuck’s sake. “Fine,” you eye the teen suspiciously. If push comes to shove, you can take out one brand-new clicker. You’ve done it plenty of times before now.

 “What the hell are you doing here?” Dieter wants to know. He’s waving everybody further into the belly of the hotel while you go to relock the front doors, because he had apparently not checked them well enough this morning.

"Me?" Joel scoffs, looking around the crumbling hotel and feeling completely out of place. "Headin' to Wyoming." He shoots Dieter a small shrug. "Tommy's there. Need to find him and drop her off." He nods towards Ellie. "This is a long ass way from L.A." He offers, wondering how the hell Dieter has lasted twenty years in an apocalyptic world. From what Joel had seen, he had become a very pampered actor, although it's good that you seem to care about him.

“We were shooting here.” He has no filter around Joel, the absolute truth spilling from his lips as easy as breathing. “Outbreak day, I mean. They were starting to evacuate some people but…” Dieter shrugs lamely, having made his peace with it years ago. “The studio locked us down here, told us to stay out for our own safety. And then when those FEDRA fuckers came through, we hid with a couple of other people. Fuck those assholes.”

"Here?" Joel looks around and admits that it would be a good place to hole up if you needed to. "How the fuck have you survived twenty years in a hotel?"

“It turns out the staff wasn’t so big on fresh food.” When you return to the group you move right to Dieter’s side. “Obviously we’ve had to hunt, but everybody in this area just tucked tail and went where FEDRA told them to, so we’ve had a lot of abandoned resources to survive on.” It's dwindled, obviously, and it’s next to nothing now, but you’re not about to tell them that.

Joel nods, understanding now and even with it being the two of you, over the years the supplies would have been worn down. He glances towards the doors and sighs. "Well, will you let us stay tonight?" He asks, not sure if you two are willing to share your safe space. It's obviously free of infected. "We'll move on in the morning."

Dieter opens his mouth to say of course! But you put a hand on his arm before he can do more than form the first word. “Your kid’s okay?” He wouldn’t let you scan her so you have to assume that something is wrong.

"She's fine." Joel spits out defensively, shuffling slightly so he can be a human shield between you and the girl. No wonder Dieter survived; you weren't as trusting as his former boyfriend. You were smarter than that.

“If he says she’s okay, then she’s okay.” Your husband looks up at you with his best puppy dog eyes and you sigh inwardly. That expression is how he keeps you wrapped around his finger and he knows it. That, and the third fucking leg he somehow manages to hide in the lounge pants he wears every single day.

 “Okay.” You nod your head, squeezing Dieter’s shoulder before you look back to the new arrivals. “Stay the night. There’s plenty of places to sleep. We’ve kept the fourth floor for living space.”

"Have you had many people come through here?" Joel asks, glancing around again. He wonders who else is here or has been here. Despite knowing Dieter, he wonders if it's just the two of you.

“There were some groups moving through a few years ago.” Dieter waves at the sofa across from where he’s standing and flops back on a chaise lounge like an exhausted Roman emperor, pulling you down beside him. “The people who stayed behind with us either left or died. A couple got infected.” He shudders at that. It had been as traumatic as anything he could remember, to see his friends turn to literal monsters. “But mostly it’s just been us, the gramophone, and a hell of a lot of books.”

 "Never thought I would see you settle down." Joel admits, smirking slightly at the position that Dieter has thrown himself into. At least the affection between the two of you seems genuine. "It only took the fucking end of the world."

 Ellie has been staring at Dieter and her face lights up. "I know you! You're an actor! You were in that movie...what the hell is the name of it?" She snaps her fingers, biting her lip as she tries to figure out what it was. "It's one of the few we had in the FEDRA school." She looks over at Joel. "How the fuck do you know him?"

Dieter grimaces at the idea that FEDRA is using his movies as propaganda, but he looks at Joel curiously. Why the hell was his kid in a FEDRA school? “Your dad and I grew up together,” he explains, not knowing how much she might know about the man Joel used to be. “Way back when.”

"I'm not her dad." Joel says at the same time Ellie goes, "He's not my dad."

 The two of them look at each other and then Ellie's eyes widen. "Wait! You knew Joel when he was young. Has he always been an asshole?" She demands, grinning at Joel before she looks at Dieter expectantly.

“Kind of.” Dieter laughs, enjoying the scowl on his ex-boyfriend’s face. “He’s always had resting asshole face. Never started fights but always ended them, ya know? Nobody fucked with Joel back then.” Except him - but that was a fully different meaning of the word.

Joel's brow lifts, watching you try to keep your expression neutral because it's obvious you know the complete nature of his and Dieter's relationship back in high school. That the two of them had been together and explored sexually before Dieter had left for college and never come back. It's interesting that Dee ended up with a woman, like he had. Despite all the rumors of fucking anyone who would let him, Dieter still managed to bag gorgeous women and it seems that the Outbreak hadn't changed that.

“So you guys are headed to Wyoming?” Even with Dieter curled around you like a man-shaped blanket, you somehow manage to maintain your composure in the face of his ex.

Joel nods, his fingers twitching when he sees Dieter’s hands start to drift from the socially acceptable areas of a partner’s body in front of guests. “Yeah.” He clears his throat, suddenly thinking about the times that he and Dieter would fantasize together.

Dieter smirks, obviously doing it on purpose to see if he can get a rise out of Joel decades later, and lets his hand span the inside of your thigh with glee. "To find Tommy?" He prompts.

His eyes are on the way that Dieter is gripping your thigh, blanking out for a moment before he comes to. "Huh? Oh...yeah." Joel grunts out, trying to ignore the way that his cock twitches. "To find Tommy." He nods, trying not to let Dieter get to him. It wasn't like he had forgotten everything they had done together and talked about doing together.

"I'm surprised you let him out of your sight." The smirk on the younger man's face grows and he drops a kiss on your shoulder. You're just letting the conversation roll along, seemingly unbothered by Dieter's roaming hands. Presumably, you're very used to it. "Tommy was in my class." He explains to you. "Joel was very protective back then."

"He— he's my brother." Lucky for Joel, Ellie has lost interest in the catching up happening between him and Dieter and has started exploring the hotel. "Of course I was protective." He doesn't mention that he had protected Dieter just as vehemently.

"Mmhmm." Your hand catches Dieter's before it can go as far as cupping your cunt right in front of his ex, but you just shake your head. Unbothered and maybe vaguely amused is how your expression reads. "Dee hasn't had an audience in a while," you explain vaguely, throwing your husband an indulgent smile. "Clearly he's glad to see you."

Joel shuffles slightly and clears his throat, unsure of what his ex might have shared with you about that time. "I don't know about that." He grunts. "Been a long time."

"Joel." Dieter aims that deadly pout at the older man now, just the same way he had learned to aim it at you. "She knoooooows. You think I didn't tell me wife about the first cock I ever sucked?"

Joel’s eyes widen and he quickly twists his head around and makes sure that Ellie hadn't decided to be nosy. Not that he gave a fuck about people knowing that side of him, but she would be annoying as fuck with all the questions. When he sees that she's messing behind the front counter, pretending she's checking people into rooms, he looks back at the two of you. "So did you get married before the Outbreak or...?" He tries not to think about how good Dieter had gotten at sucking his cock since it's been a long fucking time from the last blow job he's gotten until now.

"You're making the poor guy nervous, babe." He did that sometimes, usually unintentionally, but it had been a long time since anyone else had even been physically near you to make nervous. Turning your head, you press a kiss to Dieter's cheek and ruffle his hair affectionately. "I'll go find the kid something to eat and get her settled? Give you boys some time to catch up."

 "Mm, you're the fuckin' best." Dieter hums, giving your ass a squeeze before you walk off in the direction of the front desk to get the teenager's attention. "I, uh—" He had forgotten what Joel asked, but the thought snaps back quickly once he's done staring at your ass. "Yeah, we...we got married like...a couple of months before the Outbreak. We just did a little thing in our backyard in Malibu." He shrugs, though his smile is a little lopsided remembering the soft, white sundress you'd worn that day and how gorgeous you looked under all the twinkle lights strung through every tree that night. "Didn't want fuckin paps everywhere, ya know?"

"You always did kind of like nature." The smug comment falls off his tongue before he can stop it. Something very different from a backyard in Malibu.

******

Dieter grunts as he pushes Joel against the broad tree-trunk, one hand on the older boy's chest to hold him in place as they exchange a ferocious kiss. It's been a week since they got any time alone together and they're ravenous for contact at this point. His other hand is everywhere - touching, grasping, groping, unsettled and needy and frazzled with want.

"Dee, fuck." Joel's groan doesn't go far in the thick copse of trees, deep inside and past the old abandoned barn that had been reclaimed by nature. "You always get so fuck-ing eager when I defend you." His own fingers sink into Dieter's hair and twists around the curls, pulling as he drags the other's boy's lips back to his. Groaning again when he cups his cock through the thin basketball shorts he had been wearing when he had slipped out of the gym to meet Dieter in the woods.

"It's sexy." The explanation is honest, at least, and Dieter grins again when he feels Joel's dick twitch and harden a little more in his palm. "My big, scary protector," he croons. He's not even exaggerating.

"Start-starting to think you— you taunt them." Joel knows Dieter doesn't, but it's cute to see the pout flash across his boyfriend's face. "Shit." He hisses when Dieter's exceptionally nimble fingers slide up his shorts to wrap around his cock. "Keep it up." He growls in warning. It's been a fucking week since he's fucked Dieter since his parents actually decided to come home, although they are leaving again this afternoon. He's got a major case of blue balls and his fucking boyfriend is teasing him.

"I've been up." Dieter retorts, taking Joel's hand and pressing it against the front of his jeans. Over the course of their extremely secret relationship, he's had to get very creative with how to hide his hard-ons so he doesn't sport noticeable wood whenever Joel is around.

"Shit." He hisses, squeezing Dieter's cock and groaning when the other boy starts to massage his cock. "Come over tonight." He begs quietly. "I want—I want to fuck you." Tommy is aware of the relationship, but he doesn't give a damn and he doesn't say a word about it. Everyone else in town just thought that Joel protected Dieter because they were friends.

"Your parents leaving?" Mouthing at Joel's neck, Dieter is careful to never leave a mark behind but always uses enough pressure to make his boyfriend squirm. Stroking his cock at the same time - like he's doing now - is usually a recipe for breaking Joel's composure pretty quickly.

"Yeah." Joel's parents think that Joel has just adopted another kid to look after but even if they weren't leaving, he would want Dieter to come over. "You—if they didn't, we could be quiet." It would have to be Dieter that was quiet because he got loud when he was getting fucked. "Shit baby."

"I bet I could get you to scream now." Dieter's eyes flash mischievously. He nips at the sensitive skin of Joel's throat and gives his cock one more stroke before dropping to his knees in the patch of grass around the tree Joel is pressed against. "Don't have to be quiet in the woods."

"Oh fuck." Joel's eyes widen and he glances around just because of how exposed they are. "Baby, you don't—" He doesn't want to say yes because he doesn't want Dieter to feel like he owes him for saving him from another beating but he doesn't stop him when he reaches for the elastic band of his shorts and starts to pull them down. "Are you really going to suck my dick in the woods?" He asks breathlessly.

The wolfish grin on Dieter's face is the only answer he gives, right before diving in and taking Joel's fully hard cock in his mouth. He winks up at him from his knees before readjusting his hand around the base of Joel's shaft, making sure that he doesn't leave a single inch of that gorgeous dick untouched before he starts to bob back and forth like he had taught himself from untold hours of porn.

"Shiiiiiiiit." Joel doesn't even feel it when he bangs his head back against the tree. The wet heat of Dieter's mouth is fucking amazing and his eyes squish shut. "Oh fuck." One hand is curled into a fist and the other reaches down and tangles into Dieter's hair again. "So fucking good. Suck dick like a fucking vacuum."

A pleased, almost preening sound bubbles out of Dieter, basking in Joel's praise, and vibrates around his cock as he works the length over and over again. The hand in his hair only spurs him on, gauging how much pleasure Joel is getting from how tight he's tugging his hair. Dieter is an observant little shit if nothing else, and he had zeroed in on Joel's tells quickly as their physical relationship grew. This time will be fast and furious, judging from the way Joel's fingers are digging into his scalp.

It's almost natural how quickly his hips start to rock forward, looking down and watching his dick disappear into Dieter's mouth. Watching his lips stretch out around him. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum, Dee." He warns him. "Swallow it." He pants out. "Every fucking drop." There have been plenty of times where they had spit out cum, but he wants him to swallow him down today. Wanting him to taste his essence for the rest of the day.

He'll take the order gladly, moving the hand that's gripping Joel's hip to his balls to add to the pleasure and bring him over the edge. Joel Miller is a fucking gorgeous sight when he cums and Dieter keeps his eyes glued to his face so he doesn't miss a second of it.

It only takes a quick squeeze of his balls and the feeling of Dieter's throat closing around the head of his cock and Joel groans out his name. Throbbing on his boyfriend's tongue as ropes of cum spill down his throat in an intense rush that seems to get better every fucking time.

Dieter has instructions and he follows them to the letter, swallowing down every last drop including the ones he has to lick off the corners of his mouth before they escape and dribble down his chin. Joel looks absolutely wrecked and it makes him proud to know that he did that. He is the reason that the hottest, brooding-est athlete in school is panting in pleasure. It's his name that Joel Miller says when he cums. "Feel better, baby?"

"Stand the fuck up." Joel growls, grabbing Dieter's arm and dragging him up off the floor of the woods. Kissing him desperately despite the lingering remnant of his own spend on his boyfriend's tongue. He doesn't care. Shuffling to turn him around and push him up against the same tree he had just cum in front of, Joel breaks the kiss to take Dieter's place on his knees.

The needy whimper that spills out of Dieter's mouth when Joel drops to his knees echoes in the trees and he braces himself as best he can against the one at his back. "Y-you don't...ha-have to," he shudders watching Joel tug open the buttons on his jeans. "Fuck baby."

Joel huffs, rolling his eyes up at Dieter as he yanks the boy's pants down and smirks when he doesn't find any underwear. "You think I'm going to leave you hanging?" He demands, reaching out and wrapping his hand around Dieter's throbbing cock. Leaning in and taking him into his mouth with the same eagerness that he had been sucked off.

"Know you w—wouldn't." Dieter gasps out, shuddering as Joel's hot mouth closes around his length. If he believed in God ever, he'd be thanking Him incessantly for making Joel Miller bisexual. He groans deep in his chest and twines his fingers through Joel's short hair. "Fuuuck."

Humming around the cock in his mouth, Joel starts to jerk the base quickly. Also having learned exactly what does it for Dieter, and he hollows his cheeks around him. It will be fast and dirty; it always is when Joel blows him. It's like he still hasn't gotten used to the fact that the boy he has such a crush on would suck his dick.

"Shit, shit, shit!" One hand grasps the tree trunk behind him to steady himself but Dieter's other hand cards through Joel's hair. He doesn't like it as rough as Dieter does so he's careful not to pull too hard. "You're so fucking good at that, fuck."

Joel looks up at him, bobbing his head frantically as he swallows around him. Wanting him to fall apart and cum for him. He's gorgeous when he cums, shakily panting Joel's name as he does.

It never takes Dieter long when they're like this. The danger of potential discovery is almost as much of a turn on as the person on his knees, and Dieter's stamina can never stand up against Joel's determination to make him practically implode with desire. Mere minutes is all it takes before Dieter is gasping out his name in choked breaths. "Joel, f—fuuuck Joel, I'm gonna cum, baby, fuck, fuck, Joel!"

The first time Dieter had cum in Joel's mouth, he had nearly gagged. Sputtering from the force of the spurts hitting his tonsils, but now he's swallowing him down just like he had told Dieter to. Holding onto his hips and pulling him closer as his boyfriend bucks into his mouth and shouts his name.

Dieter crumples against the tree, eyes wide to watch Joel in awe, and pants for breath as the last rope of his cum hits his boyfriend's tongue with force. He's watched enough porn to know that he cums hard, but Joel doesn't complain about it. Sometimes he teases, but it's never mean. "H-holy shit," he huffs out, fingers instantly soothing through Joel's hair because he knows he pulled way too hard when he came.

Joel hums, swallowing the last drops before he surges to his feet and kisses him one last time. "We— we need to get back." He pants quietly. "You comin' over tonight?"

"Yeah." One more kiss, because Dieter can't help himself, and he shifts his jeans back up his legs to button them carefully. "I'll come over as soon as I can." Both boys know that that means as soon as Dad is drunk but neither of them say it. There's no use in holding the black cloud over time they get to spend together.

"Yeah." Joel nods, frowning slightly and shaking his head. "Just pack up for the weekend," he suggests.

"Okay." Dieter murmurs, nodding slightly. He grasps on for one more kiss before fixing a bit of Joel's hair that he tugged out of place. "Go. They're gonna notice you're gone if you stay longer."

Joel pulls his shorts up and nods. "I'll see you later, okay?" He swallows and tosses Dieter a grin before he turns and starts to make his way out of the woods to go work out for gym class.

******

"Can't believe you're actually fuckin' here." Dieter mutters, shaking his head at Joel. "I mean I'm not surprised you were stubborn enough to survive, but...fuck, ya know?" He huffs at how inarticulate he is for a man who used to make his living at spoken words. "Tell me about shit. You, Tommy, your life, whatever. What was..." he searches his spotty memory, barely coming up with kernels of information. "Amber, right?" The last time the two men had seen each other in any meaningful way was when Joel's wife was pregnant. But considering he has a kid with him that isn't his and is too young to be that kid anyway, Dieter isn't exactly sure what happened.

Joel's eyes slide away from Dieter's, not because he had been ashamed of his relationship with Amber. Both men had moved on from their relationship. "Yeah." He huffs quietly. "She— she left, a few months after Sarah, our daughter, was born." He tells Dieter, looking down at his watch like he always does when he thinks of her.

“Shit…” The word drags out awkwardly as Dieter rubs at the back of his neck and tries not to cringe. “I’m sorry, man. That’s bullshit. You guys seemed so happy…”

"Well..." Joel shrugs. "She wasn't happy being a mother after all, I guess." He hadn't thought about Amber in years, but it still hurts that she had abandoned him with a three-month-old baby. It had been a learning curve to be a single parent. Only his time raising his brother had helped.

“I’m sorry.” Dieter says again, slipping off the chaise he was sitting on to come sit next to Joel. He’s rarely seen a version of this man that was hurting, so it’s not something he really knows how to process. He just knows that Joel used to like having him close, so he gravitates that way. “I didn’t mean to— I mean…you know,” he mumbles incoherently.

“You didn’t know.” Joel knows he would never willingly cause him any pain. Not even when he had moved on.

Dieter bites his lip, not wanting to ask about Joel’s daughter since he had already asked one dumb question already. “So Tommy’s in Wyoming?” He settles on, hoping it isn’t a sore subject as well. He wants to sit and catch up with Joel, he’s just shit at small talk.

“Yeah.” He rolls his eyes and sighs. “Dumbass joined the Fireflies.” He huffs. “So he went out west and I had stayed in Boston.” He knows that Dieter wants to ask so he swallows. “Sarah…my daughter.” His voice is low enough that only Dieter can hear. “She died on Outbreak day.”

“Jesus.” Instinctively, Dieter reaches out and covers Joel’s hand with his, squeezing gently. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Well, you remember when my birthday is, right?” He asks, turning his hand and not letting the other man’s hand go. Nearly thirty years later, the touch of him still soothes.

“Oh shit.” It clicks in his mind instantly and he clutches Joel’s hand that much tighter. “She…Jesus Christ,” he huffs. “I woulda thrown myself off a goddamn bridge. I don’t know how you’re still standing.”

“It wasn’t for lack of trying the first few years.” Joel admits. “I sort of shut down.” Tommy was the only reason he had stuck around.

“Don’t blame you.” The sigh that Dieter blows out is audible and he points a thumb over his shoulder. “She’s pulled me back from the edge so many times I think she might’ve gone a little crazy herself.” His eyes cut back to Joel, though, and to their hands. “Kinda like you, back then.”

“You’re worth it.” Joel chuckles, remembering how Dieter had always kind of needed an emotional support person. It’s how he thrived.

Dieter’s habitual lopsided, lazy smile returns to his face slowly and he eyes Joel curiously. “Stay more than a night.” He asks, wondering what else has been going on in Joel’s life these past endless years. Dieter is a sentimental bastard, always has been, and nostalgic when he feels like it. “We don’t have much left, but…you don’t need to run off.”

“I—” Joel swallows and looks around. “You can’t stay here. Not without food. Even as safe as it is.”

“Something always turns up.” It’s sweet that Joel still worries, the instinct to protect Dieter apparently not having waned. “There’s a lake nearby. We fish a lot, and get some birds that way.” Like he said - it’s not a lot. But it’s enough for two.

It isn’t Joel’s place to try to make decisions for you and Dieter, but he makes his own decision to not take anything from the two of you. He won't accept any supplies if offered. He nods and looks around again. “It’s a nice place to have to spend the end of the world.” He flashes a grin. “Too bad the hot water doesn’t work.”

“You get used to filling up the industrial sink with heated water if you want a hot bath.” Dieter shrugs. His pampered lifestyle didn’t translate to the apocalypse, obviously.

“Better than freezing your ass off in a river.” Joel acknowledges, smirking at the howling Dieter would make, being cold. He had never liked cold water.

“Stay a little.” Dieter asks again, the insistence in his voice nearly a whine. “Just a little.” He huffs at himself, looking down at Joel’s hand in his. “A couple of days?”

“Your wife may not like that.” Joel prompts him gently. Just because he has a history with Dieter doesn’t mean he doesn’t know what he’s done before settling down. He won’t make poor decisions for his former lover. “You might want to ask her.”

“What makes you think I would marry a square?” It makes him laugh, more than he expected, and Dieter rolls his eyes affectionately at Joel. “If she says yes, you stay.”

“Okay.” He agrees with a small nod. “If she agrees, I’ll stay.”

******

“You two been on the road for long?” You’ve covered the basics with this kid - Ellie - and basically only managed to find out that she’s a 14-year-old bag of snarky comments, but it’s oddly reassuring that teenagers haven’t changed just because the world ended. In the big industrial kitchen there’s some water for her to drink, and she took up the offer understandably eagerly.

Ellie shrugs slightly. “Couple of months.” She tells you after she gulps down the last swallow of water. “We’ve walked a lot of miles.” She tells you. “His boots are wearing out.”

“How about yours?” You pour her another glass, knowing that you can get more from the lake. “They must be getting pretty worn, too? Clothes, too.”

“It happens.” She hasn’t wanted to complain but it’s getting harder. Especially when she’s run through all the tampons and the last time she had just stuffed her panties with an old shirt.

“There’s stuff here.” Nudging the refilled glass back across the table to her, you offer the kid as kind a smile as you can muster. “Everybody that was staying here, they left stuff behind. So there’s lots to pick from.”

“That would be cool.” She nods and takes the glass back again. “I like some of the stuff they wore back then.”

“Yeah?” That makes you almost laugh and tilt your head at her. “What stuff? I might know what room to send you to, to find it.”

“I don’t know how to describe it.” Ellie rolls her eyes. “Not like we have fashion week at FEDRA schools.” She looks around to make sure Joel isn’t close by. “You don’t have period shit, do you?” She asks furtively.

“Some.” You nod, trying to remember the exact inventory of pads you have in the closet upstairs. The nearest convenience stores, pharmacies, and even grocery store loot had all been piled into this hotel when there was just a small group of survivors, but thankfully there had only been two menstruating people in that group. “Do you need it now?” If she did, she probably needed clean clothes desperately, and wouldn’t hate a bath. You could heat some water for her to ease the pain.

“I ended yesterday.” Ellie rolls her eyes. It’s hard trying to hide that from Joel and especially hard when traveling out in the wilderness. The conversation about animals smelling her menstrual blood had been one filled with stuttered speech on Joel’s part and mortification on Ellie’s.

“I’ll pack some up for you.” What little you have left can be shared. She’s out in the wild and might not come across more…but you’re at least in a place where you can wash your rags each month. “I can’t imagine he’s remembering to check for supplies like that when you get a chance to rummage through places.”

“I’m normally on the lookout for that kind of thing.” Ellie snorts, imagining Joel buying tampons before the outbreak. He would be so fucking uncomfortable with it. Just like he was anytime she started complaining about cramps.

“I’ll scrounge up what I can for you.” Being a teenager out in the wilderness can’t be easy - even with access to tampons or pads. “I wish I had some pain killers or something to send you out with, but not getting FEDRA out here means our supplies dried up quickly.”

“Doesn’t hurt too bad.” Ellie shrugs. “Not like getting stabbed. That hurts like a motherfucker.”

“Yeah.” The abruptness of the observation makes you laugh, and you almost miss seeing Dieter amble toward through the kitchen doorway. “Yeah. Getting stabbed fucking sucks.”

“Who’s getting stabbed?” Dieter asks, brows raised and a goofy grin on his face as he makes his way to your side.

"It's a uterus thing." You assure him, happy as always to have your husband attach himself to your side. "I'm going to pack up some supplies for Ellie and get her new clothes, all that kind of stuff. There's enough to share upstairs."

“They are going to stay a couple of days.” Dieter announces, grinning at you like he’s won the lottery. “As long as you’re okay with it. Joel insisted.” He rolls his eyes as if it was never a question.

"Yeah. That's okay with me." It's not like you hadn't expected it, once you realized who Joel was to Dieter. While he's not exactly nostalgic for the entire way the world used to be, he's always talked about this particular ex with fondness. And while maybe it would have been weird twenty years ago, the world has changed. The fact is, you have resources and a roof, and they could use the help. "I'll go down and check the traps and do some fishing? Or we could all go, depending on how badly Joel and Ellie need to rest."

“I want to go!” Ellie immediately volunteers, always eager to see and do new things. There’s something going on with Joel and she figures she needs to give him some space to decide. These people have to be alright if Joel’s considering staying for a few days.

"That's the most excited I've ever seen a teenager get about fishing," you laugh, nodding to Ellie. "Alright, at the very least I'll take Ellie down to the lake and we can rustle up some dinner." What you have stored is best fleshed out with a catch of the day, and that's just fine.

“Cool.” Ellie grins, practically bouncing on her toes as Joel strides into the kitchen.

 “What’s cool?”

"As long as it's okay with you, I thought I would take Ellie down to the lake to do some fishing." He seems the protective sort, something you knew to be true from Dieter's stories but is very obvious upon meeting him. "Just down to the lake. Very safe. If you wanted to look out the south windows of the hotel or sit on the back porch, you could see us easily enough."

Joel frowns and looks between the hopeful face of Ellie and the two other adults. He sees the trust that Dieter places in you and his shoulders relax slightly. “You keep your gun on you, you hear me?” He tells Ellie seriously. “Keep your eyes open too and don’t fall in the goddamn water.” He looks over at you. “She can’t swim.”

"Understood." You nod, understanding that he takes whatever guardianship he has of this girl very seriously. "If it will make you feel better, we can all go? There's enough reels. This place has a little boathouse filled up with equipment and kayaks from letting guests go out on the lake way back when."

“Shit.” Dieter chuckles. “When was the last time you went fishing, Joel?” He asks, smirking. There had been plenty of times when they were teens, but they funnily enough never caught anything.

 Joel huffs and rolls his eyes. “Fine. We can all go.” He grumbles. “Wish there was beer though.” He jokes dryly.

Dieter opens his mouth excitedly only to have you point a finger at him knowingly. "You are not letting your friend touch that bathtub shit we made. It's bad enough we drink it. Joel doesn't need to be going blind from homemade moonshine."

“Moonshine.” Joel looks between the two of you and his eyes widen slightly. “I’m willing to risk it.”

"We're living in an art deco hotel, baby," Dieter reminds you, waggling his eyebrows at Joel's enthusiastic response. "If we didn't make bathtub booze it would be a sin against dramatic irony." All you can do is shake your head at them to keep from showing your amusement, otherwise Dieter will know he's won all too easily. "I'm pretty sure it has as much to do with irony as an Alanis Morrissette song, but...fine. You're both big boys. You can make your own decisions."

Joel waves his hand in front of your face. “You aren’t blind yet.” He reasons. “Has to be kinda decent.” He scoffs. “Remember that shit we used to drink? That was bad.”

"It's not far off," Dieter snorts, amusement lacing the creases in his face which are usually reserved for care or worry. "Still, I don't recommend we drink on the water." It's too out in the open, and drowning is a real concern, although you have no intention of letting the kid drink any. "We'll have some tonight?"

“Sounds good.” Joel can understand and appreciate the caution. He looks over at Ellie and nods at her. “Ready to go fishing, kiddo?”

"Hell yeah." Ellie pops up from the stool she was sitting on, excited to try something completely new.

 "This way." You nod to the opposite direction that everyone came in, ready to take them through the backdoor of the kitchen and out into the remaining afternoon light. It's actually pretty out here if you ignore the highway off in the distance, and that's not hard to do with twenty years of overgrowth and a grove of trees that cropped up around the back of the hotel property. It's chilly out but not too cold yet and you're reasonably optimistic that you can catch something to eat tonight. Tomorrow you'll stay out here for longer, catching whatever you can and stocking up for a few days of visitors.

“How do you keep warm in the hotel?” Joel asks, frowning slightly. “Are there fireplaces in the rooms?”

"Some of them." When you get outside, you turn around and point to the top of the hotel. From the back, several small chimneys are visible that are hidden by the architecture and signage of the front. "That's why we turned the fourth floor into our living space. Those are the suites that have working fireplaces. The other rooms had them filled in or they weren't there at all. It seems like they were an incentive to get a suite instead of a regular room."

“Makes sense.” Joel nods and has to admit that it seems like you have a very nice set up. Too bad you didn’t have any long-term setups like a garden or animals. “I like the fact you have a lake to fish in and gather water.”

"If we knew anything about raising animals it would be better than fishing and setting traps for rabbits or squirrels." You stifle a laugh when Dieter makes a face about squirrel meat and let him take the lead when it comes to the tour.

"Garden is that way," he says, pointing to the eastern side of the building. "Traps are around the tree line. There's a river that comes through the woods to feed the lake, and there's mushrooms for foraging." He flashes Joel a cackling grin. "I know, not something most people want to eat these days. but like I said. They made me one of their own."

Joel huffs out a chuckle and shakes his head. Only Dieter could make a joke like that work. “I get it.” He rolls his eyes and looks over at where Ellie is staring at him like he’s grown a second head.

"Don't worry about it," you advise, nudging Ellie a little and smiling at your husband's ridiculous joke. "The point is, we do okay for food. It's not exactly a farm or anything, but there are a lot worse places we could have gotten stuck."

“All you need is a pen for animals.” Joel murmurs, looking out over the water and the low hanging sun. “It seems like very few infected come through here?”

"Sometimes wanderers come through. Ones that get separated from the hive. Or travelers passing through the area." Dieter grins again, but he shrugs this time. "You'd be surprised how many people still get star struck when they recognize me. Usually better than a gun for getting people to back off."

“I still can’t believe you know Dieter Fucking Bravo!” Ellie crows, shaking her head in amazement. “Like— how?”

"I have to ask," you look over at Ellie on your other side and tilt your head curiously. "How do you even know who he is? You were born after the Outbreak."

“FEDRA school I was at had his movies.” She shrugs like it was simple. “We were allowed to watch them sometimes. Apparently the dean was a big fan or some shit.”

"So you've seen more of my movies than I have." Dieter observes, unhooking the sunglasses from the front of his worn t-shirt and sliding them on his face with pride. "Never watch your own shit, kid. Not that they make movies anymore. But like...in life."

“Is it true you’ve done porn?” Ellie asks, tilting her head at Dieter. “There’s a rumor that the dean would give anything to have a sex movie of you.”

 “Ellie!” Joel hisses, mortified at the question and the manners of his charge.

"Nah." The question barely phases Dieter and he brushes it away like she had asked him if he preferred hamburgers or hotdogs. He does get a kick out of Joel's shock, though, considering he was the first other person whoever made him cum. "Not that got leaked anyway," he jokes to Ellie, looking at her from over his sunglasses. "Only people seeing my junk are gonna be the ones I choose specifically." Granted that list is extremely long, but he had still made the decision each time.

“Obviously a wise policy.” Ellie intones seriously, glancing at Joel. “How do you know each other?” She demands, finding it completely cool that she’s met someone she saw on the shitty projector at school. It’s surreal and intriguing how the biggest asshole she knows seems to be on friendly terms with him.

"We went to school together." Dieter knocks into Joel's shoulder by accident as he tries to walk backward to face Ellie and play tour guide and grin at the sun all at once. "Middle and high school. Worst years of my fuckin' life if not for this asshole." His grin turns to Joel full force, and he hears you stifle a giggle, knowing he doesn't mean asshole in the least.

“Did he get all gruff and puff up at you?” Ellie squares her shoulder and holds her arms out to make herself appear broader as she gives an exaggerated ‘Joel’ expression. “You’re a pain in my goddamn ass, you know that?” She huffs out gruffly, mimicking Joel. “Stop talking. Go to sleep.” She cackles at her own impression and shoots Joel a grin, knowing he won’t do anything but roll his eyes and huff under his breath.

"Sort of." The lopsided expression on Dieter's face is soft when he turns his head to look at Joel. "More like...You're a pain in my goddamn ass. Don't be such an idiot. Help me finish my homework." His imitation of Joel is more like an imitation of Ellie's imitation, making it all the more ridiculous and worth laughing about.

“You were being an idiot.” Joel insists, rolling his eyes even though he can’t quite stop the grin that slips through his serious facade. “And you were better at the English shit. You had to help me so we could do other things.”

"Other things?" Ellie waggles her eyebrows the way she had seen Dieter do, thinking it was hilarious even the first time he did it. "Joel, were you bad?" The question is nothing short of gleeful, like she's relishing every second of insight into his former life.

Joel rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Yeah.” He tells her. “We were totally bad.” They had actually been pretty good kids now that he was looking back, but at the time, it was about sex and keeping Dieter from getting his ass beaten.

"Did you like...beat people up and stuff?" Since Ellie's only frame of reference for pre-Outbreak high school is books and movies, she goes straight to what she knows from those. "Sneak out behind the building to smoke cigarettes?" She gasps excitedly. "Did you smoke pot?!"

“I only beat up people who fucked with Dieter, or my brother.” Joel admits. “And of course we smoked pot.” He huffs, pointing at Dieter. “You don’t think this asshole didn’t do drugs in high school?”

Dieter's delighted chuckle makes Ellie crow and she playfully punches Joel in the arm as the group makes their way around to the front of the boat house. "I knew you used to be cool. Oh man – oh man, Dieter, I need stories. Seriously!"

“Who says I’m not cool now?” Joel demands gruffly, fully aware that Ellie thinks he’s lame. Even Sarah would think he’s lame if she were alive.

"Dude." Ellie's gaze could cut glass when she looks over at him. "I've spent every day for months with you. I know cool. You're not cool."

“You know cool, huh?” Joel snorts and rolls his eyes. “Just because I’m trying to keep your ass alive, I’m not cool.”

"'Fraid I have to argue with that." Dieter's lazy smile is pointed at Joel again. "But Joel Miller was very fucking cool. Guess I must have stolen it all away over time." Sucked it out through his cock is the undertone of the comment, but he doubts the kid gets that.

Joel chuckles, not missing the hot glance that Dieter is sending him. “Your wife.” He reminds the actor quietly.

"Knows all about it," you laugh, dismissing it and hustling Ellie past the two men into the boat house to get her a life jacket and a reel.

Joel slows down, trying to figure out if you are talking about the past or the very obvious hints Dieter seems to be dropping. Or maybe he’s just reading too much into it.

"Joel!" When you toss his name over your shoulder from inside the boathouse you can't exactly see where he's gone to. "You gonna join us?"

“Yeah— uh, coming!” Joel jogs slightly to catch up, wondering where the hell Dieter had found a woman like you.

It doesn't take too long to get suited up, and the four of you pull the lone rowboat out of the boathouse to bring down to the lakeside. It's a little too heavy for just you and Dieter to manage so you haven't used it in years, but you've kept it clean just in case. For the four of you it's perfect, and gives you plenty of space to collect any fish you catch.

Joel chuckles, obviously sensing he’s being put to work and he takes the oars after he helps you drag it into the water. “Don’t flip the boat.” He warns Ellie as the three of you climb into it. “Or you’ll sleep in wet clothes.”

“She wouldn’t make me.” Ellie points a thumb in your direction. “Turns out your friends are the cool ones, I guess.”

“Smart ass.” Joel grunts before he starts to row out onto the lake once everyone is situated in the boat.

It takes a little while for Ellie to get the hang of fishing, but it’s a generally quiet activity with a lot of long waiting periods involved, so conversation turns over again and again while the four of you sit together. Ellie tells you and Dieter about her school and Boston, Joel grunts his agreement or disagreement, Dieter tells a story that he realizes halfway through probably wasn’t appropriate, and you finish up with a censored version of the rest of the events. It’s a good system, honestly, and the four of you find yourselves laughing in between catching a few medium-to-smaller sized fish. It doesn’t matter what they are, you’ll eat them no matter what, but at least they all look clear-eyed and healthy when you pull them up into the boat.

“The sun’s about gone.” Joel observes, handing his pole to Ellie and picking up the oars. “Ready to go back?” This is your area and you will know if it’s safe or not to be out past sundown.

“Yeah, I think we have more than enough for tonight.” There’s more than one fish per person, which is great, and if you don’t eat it all tonight you’ll salt some of it to preserve for a night in the future. Sometimes you swear the spirits of pioneer women are out here whispering secrets in your ears because you certainly didn’t fucking know how to preserve fish before the world ended.

 “Great! I’m fucking starving!” Ellie chortles, making Joel puff.

 “Ellie! Watch your goddamn language.” He pants out as he rows back to shore.

Dieter snorts, knowing full well how much Joel swears himself, and nudges his friend. “When did you get so prim?” He teases.

“She’s a kid.” He points out, knowing that his own language was bad at that age but he hadn’t cursed around adults.

“Mmhmm.” Dieter laughs the way only Dieter can - slightly delirious and fully amused. “Whatever you say, Joely.”

The only reason Joel doesn’t shoot Dieter a finger is because his hands are busy. “Kiss my ass, Black.” Dieter’s real last name comes off his tongue naturally.

“Whooooooooooa!” Ellie inhales like she’s swallowing a tornado, eyes wide, and then doubles over in cackling laughter. “I fucking love it here.” She declares when she gasps for air again.

Joel chuckles at her, aware that she’s not had a whole lot of fun lately and deserves to enjoy it. If it weren’t for the need to find Tommy, he would consider staying here. “Easy, you’ll fart if you laugh so hard.” He drolls.

Ellie snorts at that and Dieter chuckles, squeezing your knee as you shake your head and laugh beside him. “I’ll heat some extra water so you guys can take baths,” you promise them, figuring that a little relaxation would do them both good. “Dieter can grab fresh clothes for Joel and I’ll find some for Ellie.”

 “We can help.” Joel offers. “I don’t want to create extra work for you.” He can’t imagine Dieter is incredibly helpful on the best of days with it just being the two of you.

“It’s been a while since we had guests.” You shrug, but nod in acceptance of the offer. “Actually, it’s been so long that I can’t even remember the last time I thought of anyone as a guest.”

“It’s so cool to live in a hotel like this.” Ellie huffs. “This is better than your sheep farm fantasy, Joel.”

“Sheep farm fantasy?” Dieter almost chokes. “What the hell is she talking about?”

“Jesus,” Joel rolls his eyes. “Nothing like that. I just said that if I could do anything after this trip, I would have a little ranch with sheep or something.”

“Anything?” Another guffaw falls from Dieter’s lips and he throws his head back in amusement. “Anything in the world and you choose sheep rancher? What happened to Joel Miller, Badass Rockstar?” In their adolescent dreams of fame and fortune, Joel always dreamt of being a singer. He would hum Dieter to sleep on his worst nights and they would sneak into the rock shows that Austin had to offer on the best nights.

“Holy shit, Joel.” Ellie looks both surprised and impressed. “You sing?”

Joel shrugs but Dieter isn’t done telling his secrets. “He sings and plays both guitar and piano.” His former lover boasts. “He loves music.”

“Suddenly I regret not being able to tune the baby grand in the ballroom.” When the rowboat softly bumps the shore, you gather up the bucket full of fish at your feet. “Don’t worry, Joel,” you offer him an olive branch even though you’re curious. “We won’t make you put on a floor show.”

Joel snorts. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a piano in front of me.” He admits, although he wouldn’t mind having a guitar to play.

"It sounds like a dying cat no matter which key you hit." Dieter giggles, knowing full well that it is like the sound of nails on a chalkboard to your ears. He tinkers with it to annoy you sometimes.

“You couldn’t play to save your life.” Joel huffs at Dieter, remembering the times he had tried to teach him how to play. “Don’t tell me you tortured your wife with your horrible playing?”

"Mayyyyyybe." His former lover grins unapologetically. "I'm shit with music and always have been."

 "Which makes it all the more hilarious that the movie he was filming here had him playing a musician." You had found it endlessly hilarious when they were courting Dieter for the role, knowing full well that they would have to dub his vocals.

“Jesus Christ.” Joel winces. “I’m glad that one didn’t make it out. I would have such a hard time sitting through that one.”

"Oh, it wasn't actually going to be me singing." Grabbing the bucket from your hand and putting out his arm to help you out of the boat, Dieter sighs dramatically at Joel's teasing. "They had some American Idol runner up locked into a contract to sing for me. Be glad for that guy that he didn't have to listen to me garbling along when he did the dubbing."

“Poor bastard.” Joel chuckles and sends Dieter an indulgent grin. “I’ve listened to you singing too many nights when you were staying over.”

"Awwe, you guys did sleepovers?" Ellie pops out of the boat with little help, flashing Joel a shit-eating grin. "Did you guys like...stay up all night gossiping and painting your nails?" She just can't imagine a fun, young Joel being a normal teenager. It baffles her mind, so obviously she has to joke about it.

“Oh totally.” Joel imitates a valley girl voice. “We did facials and all that.” He knows Dieter will giggle at the double entendre built into that joke. Grinning at Ellie as her eyes widen.

"Joel was infamous for his facials." Dieter almost doubles over, barely able to get the words out for laughing. "Coverage. Good, good coverage."

“Jesus Christ.” Joel can’t help but crack up as well, reaching out and slapping Dieter’s back as he joins him in the hysterical laughter.

"I don't get it." Ellie looks to you for clarification but you just shake your head and nod for her to follow you back up to the hotel.

 "Don't worry about it, El," you tell her, stifling your own laughter much better than the men had. "It's a guy thing."

It takes a few minutes for them to calm down, both of them grinning when they stop laughing. “Fuck it’s good to see you.” Joel tells Dieter breathlessly.

"You too, baby." The last word is quiet. Soft and sweet, and more than a little nostalgic when Dieter smiles much more shyly at Joel.

Joel doesn’t give a shit if Ellie sees, but he still checks to make sure that you and the girl have gone inside and when he sees the coast is clear, he grabs Dieter’s shirt and pulls him close. Pressing his lips to Dieter’s for the first kiss in nearly thirty years.

It would have been a surprise if Dieter didn't still remember how to push every single one of Joel's buttons, so instead it's sloppy and enthusiastic. Dieter grins against Joel's lips, feeling victorious and carefree, which is no mean feat in a world so laden with worries. He happily holds on for however long Joel allows, humming to himself and gripping his former lover's hips in both hands to keep him close.

It’s been so goddamn long since Joel has felt this sense of wonder. Clinging to it just like he clings to Dieter as he starts to deepen the kiss. He knows he’s married but from what he can tell, you don’t mind.

Feeling things rush back to him - nostalgia and the tinted memories of adolescence make everything feel more exciting and more romantic by nature - Dieter moans softly when Joel leans into the moment and lets the older man lick into his mouth as easily as breathing. It doesn't matter how long the moment goes on for, he knows that you will understand. Mostly because there is a very important fact that Dieter hasn't mentioned yet to Joel.

It’s only when Joel has to come up for air that he pulls away from Dieter. Nearly confused as to where he is as he comes back to reality. “Shit.” He groans softly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

"Don't be stupid." Dieter chides, sounding remarkably like his younger self for a moment. "She won't care. I mean...she might care that she didn't get to watch, but that's it."

“Still like to show off, huh?” Dieter has always been a little bit of a showy shit, and it’s nice to know that some things haven’t changed.

"I went to Hollywood." The dramatic exasperation in his voice is just for show, making Dieter giggle in response. "Plus, she likes to watch. And be watched. We're pretty evenly matched, to be honest."

“That’s—that’s good.” There hadn’t been a huge dramatic break up. No harsh words or bitter feelings. Hell, no one had known Dieter and Joel were together. But there’s always been a slight regret in not knowing what happened to his old lover. Wondering sometimes what had happened to the first romantic love he had ever had. So it’s good to find out that he’s been happy. Joel gives Dieter a smile and nods. “Really good.”

"No pouting," he chides, shaking his head to make his maniac curls fly in every direction. The last thing Dieter wants is a bummed-out Joel. He's never liked Joel upset. Even thinking about it sucked. "When I said you should stay, I meant you should have fun."

“I don’t…understand.” Joel’s brow wrinkles in confusion, frowning as he stares at his former lover.

"Baby..." Dieter smirks, smacking a kiss on Joel's cheek. "You made the prenup." To him, it is the ultimate compliment. That he had kept Joel in his heart and mind for decades. "You're my freebie."

“Your…freebie….” Again, confusion clouds his face for a moment before he finally clinks. “Oh…oh… really?” He blinks and looks around as if the hotel would provide an answer. “A hall pass, for me?”

“Why would I waste it on a guy that wouldn’t live up to you?” Dieter shrugs like it’s the most logical thing in the world. “You don’t have to. If you have somebody or would feel weird about it. But considering you just kissed me?” He grins devilishly. “She let me share her freebie, so I’m sure she’d like to share you, too.”

 “Jesus, Dee.” Joel can’t even deny that the idea is one that makes his cock twitch in his jeans. “We used to talk about that.” Two bisexual boys fucking obviously talked about the girls they liked and how they would like to share one. “Was her freebie a guy or girl?” He asks curiously.

 “Girl.” And Dieter still gets a hell of a thrill thinking about it, through the haze of a twenty-year-old memory. “Fuck if I can remember her name now. My memory’s gone to shit. Some bendy as fuck Broadway actress that I ended up actually doing a film with. She was ecstatic.”

 “So you’ve only fucked one other person other than your wife in twenty years?” He’s doubtful, but who knows.

 “Nah.” That sounds ridiculous even to Dieter, though he does love that Joel is so skeptical. He always knew him best of anyone. “The others were special circumstances. Like the one woman who was traveling through and stayed with us for about a month. She decided she’d rather stay warm and we were kinda bored with each other at the time. Or the guy who got separated from his group and ended up here for a week or two about…six years ago? Seven years ago? I dunno. He just wanted to fuck a movie star and pretend things were the way they used to be. He only wanted her to watch. But you?” He raises both eyebrows clear above his sunglasses. “You still hold the record for prettiest cock I’ve ever fucked. And…” There is a flash – just a flash – where the mask slips and Dieter shrugs. “You’re you.”

 “I’m…me…” Joel puts his hands on his hips and looks around for a second as he thinks. He wants to, badly. “I want to hear it from her.” He decides. “And I want to—to have you both.” He steps closer and bites his lip. “You— there hasn’t been another man since you, Dee.” He confesses softly.

 Dieter isn’t one to hesitate when something he wants is within reach, and right now Joel is two inches away, so he grabs right onto the front of his shirt and tugs him in, pressing his lips hard against Joel’s. “Sentimental bastard,” he teases. “And I know she’ll say yes. Caught her checking out your ass in the boathouse.”

 “Shut the fuck up.” Few would ever mistake the growl as nothing but angry, but Dieter just grins at him, knowing that he’s embarrassed. For as popular as Joel had been in school, he hadn’t been assertive when it came to relationships until he was in them.

 The leering grin on Dieter’s face is so fucking pleased that he lets out a manic little giggle. “Oh yeah,” he looks very pleased with himself - or perhaps with you. “Silver Fox works for you.”

 Joel rolls his eyes but he can feel his cock harden. “So what have you imagined?” He asks quietly. “Since I’m your pass?”

“It would be easier to tell you what I haven’t imagined.” The lack of a creative mind was never Dieter’s problem, and with the promise of bringing fantasy to reality tantalizingly close he feels that giddiness of a kid about to get a mountain of presents for his birthday. “Depends on whether you just want to fuck me, or if you want to fuck my wife, too.” His eyebrows waggle again in that signature suggestive way. “Good thing you’re staying for a few days.”

“If the offer is there…” Joel wouldn’t turn down a chance to touch either one of you, especially if it was a shared experience and want.

“Good.” That’s all Dieter needs to hear, and he reaches out and strokes his thumb over Joel’s hip to turn him toward the hotel. “We’re going to have a very fun conversation after dinner.”

“Any conversation with you is always interesting.” Joel huffs, remembering the off the wall comments that would come out of his mouth.

“There you two are.” When Dieter and Joel stroll into the kitchen they look simultaneously more relaxed and excitable, and you make a mental note to ask Dieter what happened outside after Ellie is out of earshot. Right now she’s sitting five feet away peeling vegetables. “Beginning to think you ran off on us.”

“Nahhhhh.” Dieter winks at you. “You know I would never leave you.” He comes over to stand behind you and kisses the back of your neck. “I was showing Joel the star you claim is a satellite.”

“There’s a satellite out there?” Ellie’s seemingly perpetual state of excitement spikes again.

"Hundreds of them." Joel nods. "Driftin' around up there, unused anymore." He doubts any country has retained enough of a presence to use their satellites, but who knows considering communications were cut almost from the start. You only know what FEDRA wanted you to, and that wasn't much.

“Cooooool.” It’s cooler than peeling potatoes, anyway, and that’s what she’s doing right now.

 “It makes the world a little more fun to think something ordinary like a star might be something extraordinary like a still working satellite or a UFO,” you shrug your shoulders but not enough to deter Dieter from showering you in those little bits of affection he loves to give. “It’s my make believe.”

"The aliens are avoiding this planet like the plague." Joel snorts, moving over to where the fish are sitting in the sink and pulls out his knife to clean them.

“As they fucking should.” Dieter agrees without an ounce of irony.

“Dee?” Nudging your husband slightly, you can’t help but sigh a little. He’s too fucking affectionate for his own good. It’s part of how you fell for him. “Will you bring in some firewood for the stove, baby?” The old gas lines did nothing now, but through some crafty tinkering, the ovens and stones in the big hotel kitchen had been converted into wood burning operations.

"Sure." Dieter bobbles his head and looks around the kitchen with a grin. "It's like a family dinner." He observes before he darts out the door to get the wood from the pile.

“Something that most of us haven’t had in a very long time.” It hits your own nostalgia in a very different way than seeing Joel hits for Dieter, but still gives you some nice feelings of warm and fuzzy along with him.

Joel grunts, not commenting on that as he slices the fish open to clean them out. "So tell me how you met Dieter?" He asks, glancing over at you before looking back down at his work.

“I was his personal assistant. His manager pulled me out of a stack of a hundred resumes of people clawing to get to work in Hollywood.” That much of what Dieter had said earlier was true. “It was crazy hard work, but I built my life around him. It kind of snuck up on me that I’d fallen in love with him in the process.”

“It’s good though. Dieter’s always been…easy to care about when you peel through the layers of bullshit.” Joel knows exactly the trauma that had forged the actor's egocentric ways and he doesn’t blame him. Never did.

“He’s genuine. Which people don’t expect.” It’s nice to be able to talk to someone who knows the real Dieter from years ago. The unvarnished, unmasked version of him that is adoring and loyal and full of life. Hollywood had made him jaded and paranoid. Well, the drugs didn’t help that last part. “He’ll always tell you the truth to your face, and it can come across badly if you’re expecting him to schmooze and be a fake nice guy like a lot of other actors.”

“No, I can’t imagine that would go over well.” Joel snorts, although he was pretty much the same way. “It seems like you complement each other very well.”

“I soften his rough edges and he makes me more bold.” The two of you have developed a whole world all your own at this point, as you’re sure a lot of people around the world have. You can’t be the only ones who are isolated like this. “I'm glad to finally meet you, though. He’s always spoken very fondly of you.”

“I can’t imagine why.” Joel snorts, shaking his head in amusement over what Dieter had probably told you. There were times Dieter had no filter, especially when he was around people he trusted.

“You believed in him.” It’s not like you’re going to tell Joel in front of the kid that Dieter had told you explicit details of their sex life. You’re honest, not tactless. “And you supported him. I know you were young, but having that support when you’re that age is vital.”

“What did he need support over?” Ellie scoffs, still peeling her potatoes and glancing over at you with a curious look. “There’s something you’re not saying.”

“It wasn’t easy for him, being out of the closet in Texas back then.” It’s not something Dieter has ever hidden, so you know he won’t mind if you tell Ellie. You’re just careful to tiptoe around Joel’s role in the whole thing. “He was a target for every kind of awful person. But Joel protected him.”

“What, where you guys like secretly dating or something?” You couldn’t mean gay because obviously you wouldn’t be married to Dieter if he was. So you must mean bisexual. She eyes Joel as he stands at the sink.

 Joel considers lying to her for a second, maybe two. Simply because she would be an annoying shit about asking questions. But the only regret he had about being with Dieter was that he hadn’t been open with it. Had kept it quiet. He doesn’t even look over his shoulder when he answers. “What of it?”

“You dick!” Ellie’s jaw drops and she practically rockets out of her seat to lean across the counter that she’s been sitting at. “You never told me that!” There’s no malice in it, not really, but a fair amount of surprise as she processes this puzzle piece of information.

Joel chuckles and turns to stare at her. “The fuck you expect, kid? Introduce myself and tell you how I swing?” He had damn near choked when she had found Bill’s dirty magazine. He glances over at you. “It’s not a secret, just not…common knowledge, ya know?”

“Yeah, I know.” The words are so much more solemn than you or Joel expect, and the expression in Ellie’s eyes is so much darker when she looks between you. “It just…it would’ve been easier…to be myself.” She murmurs, suddenly looking away from both of you. “If I had known, ya known? Then I wouldn’t have been all weird about the magazine or whatever. Cause fuck knows I don’t want to look at that shit.” It seems like the longest time that she pauses, gulping down fear, before she looks up again. “I’m fucking gay, Joel. We could’ve like…be honest with each other a lot earlier.”

“Shit kiddo.” Joel puts the fish down and wipes his hands on a towel as he turns and settles his hip on the sink, giving her his full attention. “You could have always been yourself around me.” He tells her gruffly. “Don’t judge cargo.” He sends her a small smirk, remembering the conversation in the truck later on that day. Although his feelings for the girl had changed since then. “I understand though. Dieter got his ass beat for liking boys and girls and I fucking hated it. Kicked their asses every fucking time I could. You can’t help who you love.”

“You wouldn’t have been the first asshole to drop a kid on the side of the road somewhere for being queer.” She contends, even though the water in her eyes has softened her expression measurably.

“All the shit I’ve done…” Joel shakes his head. “Never would have done that.” He promises, reaching out to ruffle her hair before he remembers they are still fishy and stops himself. “Any other questions?”

“Are you mad that I threw that dirty magazine out the window before you got to look at it?” Ellie asks, mischievous mood restored and eyebrows waggling.

Joel frowns at her. “Asshole,” he huffs, reaching out with his fishy hand on purpose this time to make Ellie shriek and duck away. “No, they weren’t my type.” He grunts. “Dieter is.”

“Dieter is what?” As if on cue, the man re-emerges in the doorway with a bucket full of split wood and looks around curiously at the mention of his name.

“Of course he comes when he hears his name.” Joel snorts, smirking at the man in question. “My type.” He clarifies, nodding towards Ellie. “She asked if we dated in high school.”

“I wondered if she would figure it out. Smart kid.” The grin that Dieter shoots her is almost proud. “Yeah. He, uh…he was my first relationship.”

“And you were…okay…with being a secret?” There’s no judgment in her tone, just raw curiosity. Being able to talk about this feels amazing, especially with adults and not the assholes she had gone to school with. She gets it, kids are dicks no matter when it is.

“We fought about it sometimes.” It’s a lot for Dieter to admit, especially to the kid, but he likes her. He likes her and she’s a straight shooter. Sassy like he wishes he had been brave enough to be at her age. “But it wasn’t about shame. It was about survival.”

"That's one of my regrets." Joel admits, looking down at his hands and sighing slightly. "That I wasn't more assertive. But we thought I would be kicked off the team and then I couldn't protect Dieter like I had been. But I should have just not given a fuck."

“You would have ended up disowned, too.” Dieter points out, shaking his head as he loads firewood into the stove. When Ellie makes a noise of confusion, he shrugs. “My old man didn’t want a fa—a queer kid — staining the family name. The second I graduated high school I was on my own.”

"At least you could stay with us over the summer until college started." It had been the last summer that Joel and Dieter had together. He had taken his scholarship to USC and he hadn't come back for a long time. Until Joel had been with Amber. "And your old man was nothing but a drunk asshole. Fuck him."

“My point is that if you had come out, we both would have been out on our asses.” He rolls his eyes at Joel as though it were obvious. “And you would have hated LA. So don’t say you would’ve just come with me and been okay.”

Joel feels the guilt of the other secret that he had kept. "Yeah, I know...." He swallows and shrugs his shoulders. "I wouldn't have had - uh, her and I can't imagine that." He hadn't ever told Ellie about Sarah and he would prefer not to.

“It’s okay.” Dieter shakes his head and stands up. Brushing his hands off is just a motion to take up space before he drags the bin of wood a few feet away. “We don’t need to get into it. Just…” he sighs and looks to Ellie. “Nobody here is straight, kid. So don’t worry about it.”

"Amber knew." Joel blurts out, unsure of why he is getting into it more when Dieter just gave him an out. "I told her...before we saw you, that last time." He takes a breath. "She didn't take it well."

“Jesus.” Dieter’s face draws long, staring at Joel when his head whips around. “She—she acted like she had barely ever heard of me.” It had actually fucked him up pretty badly for a little while. Thinking that he had meant so little to Joel that he hadn't even told his wife that they were friends? It had wrecked him.

"No." Joel shakes his head. "She— she couldn't handle the fact that I had been with you – that I was bisexual. It was 'immoral' according to her." He scowls. "After...six months after I saw you last, she just packed up and was ready to leave by the time I got home from work. Told me she couldn't be with me anymore...and left us."

“Holy shit.” For a second it’s not quite clear who’s spoken, but you reach out slowly to put your hand on Ellie’s shoulder. “C’mon,” you murmur quietly, nodding toward the door. Joel and Dieter clearly need some privacy.

“I didn’t – I’m sorry that I—” He doesn’t know what he’s sorry for. He doesn’t regret his relationship with Dieter. He loved him, despite never saying the words out loud. “I would have never been with her to begin with if I had known she was like that.” You and the girl are out of the room. “She left me to raise Sarah on my own.”

“What are you sorry for?” Dieter sputters, immediately moving to Joel like a magnet. His instinct is to hold him. To offer comfort. But he’s not sure if it’s wanted. “The fucking fact of me ruined your marriage…I’m sorry.”

“Fuck her.” Joel hisses, shaking his head. “She couldn’t accept me for who I was, accept the first person I loved. I— no, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“What did you just say?” Jaw slackened and eyes wide, Dieter stares. Those were not the words he expected to hear out of Joel’s mouth.

“What?” Joel frowns. “Fuck her? You know I don’t put up with small minded bigots. No matter who they are.”

“No, not that.” Dieter flails out of pure confusion. “You just — you said you loved me.”

“Of fucking course I loved you.” Joel growls, looking at Dieter in surprise. “You knew how I felt…didn’t you?”

“I…” He had thought so. Hoped so. But never knew absolutely or for sure. Over the years he had alternately convinced himself that Joel had felt the same or that he had completely exaggerated the way his first boyfriend felt about him. It all depended on how he was feeling about his other relationships at the time. “I was never sure.” He admits finally, feeling his shoulders sag under the weight of actually hearing the words. “You never said.”

This time it’s Joel that moves, reaching out and grabbing Dieter by the back of the neck and hauling him close to kiss him. Similar to the same way he had first kissed him in the boy’s bathroom so many years ago. Except this time, he doesn’t pull away almost immediately. Instead, he groans against his lips.

There’s something so volatile in the moment that Dieter doesn’t move at first. He’s frozen with the fear that if he so much as thinks the wrong thought that it will all disappear. It’s amazing that the spark between them doesn’t seem to have faded - or at least the attraction is very obviously still there. But that the emotion remains? That much feels like a miracle. Or maybe, like he debated so much years ago, maybe the love he still feels is entirely one sided.

Joel pulls away and shuffles slightly, aware that there was no response from Dieter despite the kiss they had shared earlier. “You never forget your first love.” He adds awkwardly. “At least I don’t.”

“I forget a lot of shit.” Dieter half-chuckles at himself, huffing a little as he presses into Joel’s space again. “But not the important things. And never you.”

“I—I should have said it.” Joel admits quietly. “Shoulda told you.” All of his regret centers around Dieter and Sarah but he could try to set things right with one of them.

“Better late than never.” Having Joel back within his grasp for even just a little while means more to Dieter than he could possibly express, and he pulls the man close now to rest his forehead against Joel’s shoulder with a sigh. “Still means more than you know.”

Joel nods, wrapping his arm around Dieter for a moment before he pulls back. “It’s good to see you.” He huffs.

“You do have a soft spot.” Dieter laughs, leaning into the warmth of Joel’s arms. “Dredging up all this old shit and letting the kid know who you were? And you still missed me.” He won’t claim that it doesn’t make him happy, or feed that part of him that still struggles with self doubt even though it’s been twenty years since the public eye stopped caring about celebrities for very good reason. The only person’s opinion he’s ever held as high as Joel’s is yours.

“Yeah, shut up.” He grumbles, even though he shoots Dieter a grin. “Get the damn fire started so we can eat sometime in the next few days.”

“You misssed me.” Dieter singsongs, smacking a kiss on Joel’s cheek before pulling away. It’s better that the moment breaks now. That he doesn’t keep pushing. That he doesn’t force Joel to push him away. Because that would hurt far, far worse than years of wondering had.

“Surprised you survived.” Joel admits, slightly choked up about finding out that his fears had been unfounded. Happy that the bright star of his childhood still shone.

Dieter shakes his head and laughs, knowing that Joel has every reason to be surprised. “Wouldn’t have without her.” He can admit to that easily. You have been keeping him afloat since the day you met. “She’s…honestly, the only person I ever loved as much as you.”

“I’m glad you found her.” Of that Joel can be completely sure of. Dieter always had a startling lack of self-preservation when it came to life skills. “Of course you would live in a hotel at the end of the world.” He had always dreamed of living in a hotel and traveling the world when they were younger.

“She thought that…that if we went to a QZ, that FEDRA would make me a figurehead.” It wasn’t too far off, really. It had happened to other people in the public eye and there was no reason they couldn’t have done it to Dieter as well. “Fuck the government in the first place, but trying to make me a pawn? We were better off here.”

“Yeah, here is better.” He won’t disagree with that, FEDRAs ironclad fist had chaffed even though Joel had done what he wanted for the most part. “It’s good you stayed here.”

“It’s getting harder.” The stove is stubborn but he gets it lit and stands back again. “Fewer fish, less rain, bad crop seasons. The earth is healing but at the same time it’s not.” He snorts. “I feel like I’m prepping for a production of The Crucible.”

Joel chuckles, but he knows that resources are getting harder to find. “I’m going to Wyoming. It’s where I last heard from Tommy.” He offers.

 “Yeah.” Dieter’s head bobs in response. “And to drop off the girl, right?” As if Joel could let her go on her own. Dieter knows him better than that.

 “Yeah— she’s important to the Fireflies. They have some lab and can make a cure.” Joel doesn’t know anything about the science, but it would be nice for the fucking world to be able to be rebuilt.

“Well…I hope it all goes well.” It will be a good thing for the world, if it works. But Dieter’s life won’t really change that much. Isolation has kept the two of you reasonably safe even if it is difficult.

“Have you ever thought of what you’ll do when supplies get low?” Joel asks quietly, wondering if you’ve come up with some plan.

“We always assumed there would be a day when we would have to move on.” Dieter isn’t completely useless in the kitchen and he picks up peeling the last potato that Ellie had left on the cutting board. “At this point I was starting to wonder if things would hold out until one of us was too old or sick to travel, but it’s not looking that way.”

“The road is dangerous.” Joel admits, going back to cleaning the fish. “And there is safety in numbers.” He hedges on offering them a place, feeling you might not be ready to leave the sanctuary of your home. “More eyes to watch for danger.”

“Or more people to be loud and attract attention.” Dieter shrugs, knowing he isn’t exactly the world’s most subtle or graceful human being. “People like you and her…you’re survivors. Hell, I bet even the kid could kick my ass if push came to shove.” When he shrugs again he’s looking down, mouth shut and lip bitten as if that’s the key to keeping it that way. To keeping in the thought that hurts too much to say.

“Doesn’t mean you’re weak.” Joel reasons. “Never have been. You’ve always been stronger than me.”

“Not up here.” Tapping his head for effect makes Dieter shrug again. A helpless motion if ever there was one. “Clever is what keeps people alive these days. Clever and quick. Like you, and her, and the kid.”

One of Dieter’s faults was that never truly believed he was good enough. All of his formative years being treated like shit and then worse when his father discovered his sexuality had done a number on his self-esteem. “You’re clever enough to align yourself with people who care about you. Who will do anything to ensure you survive.” He offers instead of arguing a point Dieter wouldn’t believe. “And I bet you’d do anything to protect your wife.”

“I’d die for her.” There is no question of hesitation in that for him. Just like there is no question that he would still die for Joel.

“It takes bravery, cleverness to understand that, even more so to mean it.” Joel tells him. “Stop selling yourself short, Black.”

“If you ever write an inspirational monologue, I’ll be sure to read it over the radio for you.” He huffs, unwilling to take the compliment. “But you’ll have to find a radio first. We don’t have one. Fuckin’ things fry your brain.”

Joel chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Better than the fungus.” He banters, finishing up the fish and washing his hands in a small bowl of water. “Do you have salt?”

“Cupboard behind you.” Some things were still in abundance, thankfully. The hotel had had recent food delivery when the Outbreak hit, and whole pallets of spices had been stocked in the kitchen.

Joel hums as he looks through the spices available. “Mind if I use a few of these?” He asks, looking over his shoulder. When Dieter shakes his head, Joel picks out a few that he’s sure will make the fish taste incredible and brings them over to the table. “You remember the shit we used to cook?” He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Calling it cooking is generous. I’m surprised Tommy survived some of the shit we made.” When Joel’s parents would be gone and Dieter would stay over, there was often no cash for pizza or fast food, but a fridge full of ingredients that required cooking. Cooking that they had not been very good at.

“At least it means that we can stomach the shit we have to eat now.” Joel laughs. “Although heartburn is a bitch now.”

“Right?” It’s a son of a bitch and Dieter groans. “Not like we’re eating pizza or lasagna or anything like that, though. I hate to think it could be worse.”

“Not without antacids.” Joel huffs. “We’re getting fuckin’ old.” He wouldn’t ever say it like that around the kid, but he’s feeling his age. “I’m 56 fuckin’ years old.”

“It stopped mattering twenty years ago.” The peeled potatoes need to be diced and Dieter hunts down a knife to keep working. “The fact that we’re still alive is either a miracle or a punishment.”

“Probably a little of both.” Joel carefully seasons the fish and sighs. “Although I can’t believe that you are fucking sober 20 years.”

“It’s not like I’m not trying.” Dieter scoffs. “You do remember the words bathtub moonshine, don’t you?”

“I meant drugs.” Joel snorts. “Ironic since I was a supplier in the QZ.”

“Other people still have drugs?!” The look on Dieter’s face is absolutely scandalized, like it’s his birthday and someone just told him he could never have presents ever again. “It’s been twenty years! Are you telling me the drug trade survived and I’ve been out here using my imagination like a chump?”

“Traded Hydros for ration cards with the FEDRA guards.” Joel can’t help but smirk at the horror on his former lover’s face. It was very cute. Every time he got a supply in, he had thought about Dieter.

“Real stuff?” He asks and crumples onto a stool when Joel nods yes. “What a waste. I would’ve given you ration cards and a blow job.”

Fuck. Joel’s eyes widen slightly and his cock twitches in his jeans. He doubts Dieter had lost any talent in that smart mouth of his, although he knows he’s rusty in the dick sucking department. “Shit.” He groans. “You would have gotten them for free.”

That just makes his former lover smirk and throw him a wink across the counter. “And you still would’ve gotten your dick sucked.”

“Who’s to say I didn’t get my dick sucked anyway?” Joel teases. Dieter hasn’t been celibate; he’s been married so it’s not like he hasn’t gotten his fair share of sex.

“I’m sure you have.” After all, he had been honest when he said the silver fox look worked for Joel. He was always handsome, and clearly aging didn’t hurt his looks at all. “It would be a damn shame if you didn’t. I’m just saying I would have been the one doing it.”

“You could never resist.” He couldn’t remember how many times he woke up with his dick in Dieter’s mouth when he spent the night. Not that he minded.

Dieter shrugs unapologetically. “It’s a good dick.”

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101

My Masterlist!

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Black eyed & Blue ||

Chapter 1 - Skull & Crossed Wires

Frank Castle x Female Reader/OC

Notes: I'm posting this first short chapter in my Frank Castle and female OC/reader mini series in the hope that it will spur me on to finish it! I have some other chapters written already just need to get them where I want them and write some more. 😊

Warnings: kidnapping, blood, biting, general vampire themes, fluff & smut, frank being protective, Matt makes an appearance.

Please comment and let me know what you enjoy or would like to see as the story develops and I'll see what I can do!

Frank managed to limp his van to the nearest garage before it crapped out entirely. He had cleared it out after his latest 'road trip' back at the safe house. It wouldn't do any good if the mechanics found any of his arsenal…

He left them with the keys and said he'd check back in a couple of days. Leaving a cell number was out of the question too, he still wasn't quite comfortable leaving much of a trace even if he was now 'Pete'.

He walked up to the shop office two days later, hopeful he could throw down a few hundred and get going. A fraught looking gangly guy was having an in-depth discussion on the phone as he entered. He passively waved Frank in the direction of the garage floor, pulling the phone away from his mouth and yelling towards the doorway.

"Blue! Customer!"

Frank gave him a semi-polite nod and headed through the side door where his van was jacked up, a pair of dark blue Converse sticking out from underneath.

"Uh, right. Guess it ain't ready yet." Frank ventured.

"No shit Sherlock." A voice came from below.

"Can see why you got Shaggy on the front desk there, customer service ain't your thing huh?"

The feet peddled their way out from under the van to reveal a woman with her hair tied up out of her face with a blue bandana. She had an oil-smudged face, and chipped sky blue nail polish on her fingers. Her mouth dropped open as she pushed herself up and took in the figure of Frank standing over her.

"Oh fuck- I mean, shit! Damn! Fuck!" She winced. "I'm really sorry mister… thought you were Ray winding me up again. Sorry, I'm trying not to cuss as much but, um…"

Frank couldn't help the sly smile from spreading across his lips.

"Think you're doin' well enough. Don't you worry about it. Maybe uh, you can gimme an idea when she'll be ready?"

She got to her feet, wiping her oily hands on her dirty coveralls, which were also blue.

"Well, that's the thing. I'm still waiting for a part to come. I woulda called you to let you know but, uh, you didn't leave a number so…

"Yeah, don't have a phone." He scratched at the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Kinda hate all that tech shit y'know."

"Wow. Well, okay old man, I'm not sure exactly when it'll arrive, our supplier is vague at the best of times, I really wanna find someone better but…"

Frank couldn't help grumbling a little. He was keen to get back on the road, after all, biker gang ass wasn't gonna kick itself. "Then I guess 'i'll just keep comin' back every day till she's ready."

Blue smiled politely. "Once it's here I'll get it fixed as fast as I can but if you refuse to have a phone like us regular people I guess that's just what you'll have to do. See you tomorrow then?"

Frank nodded. "Yeah. See ya tomorrow."

The next day Frank dropped by the garage late afternoon, he'd had a particularly rough night chasing down some dregs of the Dogs of War that refused to go down easily.

"Jeez, what the heck happened to you?" Blue asked, looking up and seeing the dark bruises around his eyes as she heard him come in. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking? Those are some shiners."

"Walked into the side of the door when I got up during the night to piss. Bein' how I'm an 'old man' an all," Frank deadpanned back.

"No shit. You gotta be more careful, looks a bit like someone belted you right in the kisser!"

Frank shrugs.

"To be honest I wouldn't be too surprised if they had. Don't take this the wrong way but you've kinda got one of those punchable looking faces, mister..?"

"It's uh, Pete." Frank replies with a slight chuckle, only slightly offended. "And is that so?"

She holds out her oily hand for him to shake. "Hi Mister Pete. They call me Blue. And yeah, I mean you're real good looking and all but-" she stopped as Frank shook his head and laughed.

"Jeez, I really gotta stop running my mouth around strangers! I am so sorry…"

Frank holds up both hands giving her a smile, it had been a while since he had laughed as much. "Hey, no worries. Punchable and good lookin'? I'll take it. So, Blue, huh? No need for me to ask why I guess. "

She returns the smile, scuffing the toe of her shoe into the ground shyly. "I just like the colour."

Frank clears his throat. "So uh, there any news on that part yet?"

"Oh! Yeah, um it might be tomorrow but…"

"Might not?" Frank finishes with a slightly tense shrug.

"Yeah, really sorry about this, Pete. I'd even go as far as to offer you a free coffee in apology but our machine's bust, and even if it was working it tastes crap anyway."

"Don't worry about it. Alright well, guess I'll seeya tomorrow again."

Blue gave him a little wave. "Yeah, seeya tomorrow Old Man, hope I've got some good news for you then."

Frank just shakes his head, smiling to himself as he leaves the garage and sets off back home.

The next day, when Frank turns up, Blue's face is bright with the biggest smile, and it only got brighter as she saw what 'Pete' had in his hands.

"Hey!" She greets him animatedly and it makes him feel a little warmer inside.

Frank nods then hands her one of the carryout cups of coffee he has. "Hey, didn't know how you take it but I got some sugar and milk here too if you want, seeing as your machine is broken an all."

Blue beams, her fingers brushing briefly over his as she accepts it. "Oh, thank you so much! And no, that's great, straight up is perfect, so kind of you, thanks Pete!"

Frank shrugs. "S'nothin'."

She takes a hearty sip and then remembers what she was about to say. "Good news by the way, the part arrived this morning! I'm about to get on it right now, shouldn't take too long if you don't mind waiting?"

Frank nods, finding a space to sit nearby. "Yeah, sure, if you don't mind me watching you work."

She disappears under the van. "Actually, gives me the chance to ask what the hell you've been putting this poor van through, you gotta take more care of her if you don't want to run her into the ground."

Frank huffed. "Yeah, just been real busy, y'know, and my work takes me all kinds of places, some uh, rough terrain."

"What kind of business are you in Pete?"

He scratches the stubble under his chin. "Uh, removals, pest control, odd jobs. That kinda stuff."

"A Pete of all trades?" Blue suggests, and Frank has to laugh.

"Yeah," again he feels the rare smile stretch his face as he strokes his stubbled jaw. "Somethin' like that."

It wasn't till later, when he was on the road again rummaging through the glovebox for the map when his hand landed on the tin of sweets. He took them out, curious seeing the note stuck to the lid.

'Something to sweeten you up, old man :)

-Blue'

He chuckles to himself as he opens the tin and takes a candy.

[hogtiedwhorestories]

the ransom - part 5 (finale)

warning - the following stories involves written scenes that include sexual violence that some people may be offended of and have a problem with. if you are sensitive to that kind of content, i do not recommend reading

this story was written by me and a ghost writer who wanted to stay anonymous.

----------------

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

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I lay there in the back of the car, with the nephew in front driving the car. My hands are still bound in front of me. With every bump in the road I bounce on the backseat, before I slowly start to sit up. I don't say anything for a few minutes, before finally telling the nephew "your uncle is a monster…" He chuckles to himself, “Are you going to be okay here did a number on you. Here’s an ice pack and a wet rag." He grabs them from the passenger seat and hands them back to me. "You got money my pencil dick husband paid?" I ask him. "Yes the whole $200,00 thousand." I can't help but have a huge smile on my face "your fuckin uncle thinks it’s 100,00 but we gave him our ransom note and the dick paid it." I laugh but it hurts too much. "Alright, drop me off here with my phone and I will make the call to the police. Once they pick me up, and we take of everything I will meet you back at the motel."

He pulls over and lets me out. I get 911 on the phone and tell them the situation and where I am. It doesn't take long before 2 patrol cars show up, and the cops hurry out and check on me. They free my wrists from the restraints all while I'm crying and telling them the story. I tell them I can lead them to where they can find the uncle. They get me into the back of one of the squad cars and we take off for the warehouse.

At the warehouse they have the building surrounded and a group of them kick the door down, while I wait inside the back of the squad car. Moments later they bring the uncle out cuffed and supported by two officers. The officer comes over to me and I assure him take pictures of the rope i was strung up with the bedding off the bed and the bear bottle laying on the bed. They assure me and take pictures of my bruised face my bleeding lip and my wrists still with rope marks on them. The cops assure me they have enough evidence that he should be locked away for a long time. Inside I am laughing at the fucker. For everything he did to me, I got my revenge.

The cops tell me that since my car is still there that I am free to head home to my husband and that they will be in touch to further the investigation and get anymore information they may need. I get into my car, and instead of heading home, I head off to the motel where the newphew is located. I get out of the car and knock on the door. The newphew opens it up, and is happy to see me. But he can only see I am still in pain from the abuse I took from his uncle. So he helps me into the room, and sits me on the edge of the bed. From there, we toast to a plan well done with a few well earned beers. "Fuck that uncle of yours…so glad he is getting what he deserves. now we just gotta get out of town and we are set!"

“It was hard to leave you with him but we needed the evidence to nail him. I worried about you looks like he did a number on you “ I take another sip, holding in the pain "It's ok…nothing I can't handle. Although you had your fun with me in that bathroom…" The newphew can't help but let a smile slip out. "Yeah…can you blame me for taking a little advantage of the situation?" I smile back at him rolling my eyes. We finish our drink and I switch into a white button down oversized shirt of the nephews . We snuggle in bed talking of our future and replaying our two day expirrience. Eventually, we both doze off to sleep.

Morning comes and he is the first one to wake. looking at me, having found my way off him during the night. He scoots over to me, reaching under the blanket and grabbing ahold of my breast, massaging it. In my sleep a moan slips out from my lips, waking up to the sensation. My eyes open to see him hovering over me. He plants his lips onto mine. I free my hand from under the blanket, and grab ahold of his semi hard cock and begin to stroke it. We kiss each other and provoke each other to horny before he asks me a favor “hey I didn’t get a chance to do you with uncle how about we play out what it would have been like. Let’s re enact it. I will tie your hands and we can take it from there “ After what happened the day before I'm hesitant but I slowly come around and agree "well…ok…sure. Just this one time you can tie me up" I say visibly nervous but he pets my cheek and I smile.

He ties my wrists like the day before. I start to feel a bit uncomfortable, and ask him to stop there. He doesn't seem to be listening though and sits on my legs and ties my ankles together. He pulled the rope so tight, digging into my skin "ok! That is tight enough!" I yell out, but to my surprise he shuts me up by shoving his cock into my mouth. Instead of freaking out further, It almost calms me down as I begin to suck my cheeks in around it. Bobbing my head back and forth, lips glistening and gliding across his shaft. My moans vibrating his cock in my mouth while I look up at him. He has a look of want on his face bordering on anger. He bucks harder grabs my hair and turns a blowjob into a throat fucking. My face already hurting this assault doesn’t come without pain. He cums forcing his spew down my throat and out of the corner of my mouth leaking on my chin. He pushes the excess cum back in my mouth and Insists I clean him. At his demand, I begin to lick his cock and clean it from all the cum. "ok! you got what you wanted…let me out of these ropes now, im hurting!"

He goes to his bag and to my amazement he pulls out more rope. He flips me over and starts tying my arms as well as my hands. I scream my protest but he is on a mission. The screams become me yelling orders at him when he grabs my mouth and shoves a rag in it he then uses grey duct tape wrapped around my head at least four times. I look my eyes full of fear and anger. He throws himself in a chair and checks the clock. The dusk is breaking.

I lay there on the bed in a strict hogtie. My mouth packed and taped shut. What is he doing?? This wasn't apart of the plan! I groan into the gag, trying to talk but its no use. He looks at me from the chair and explains to me how 200k was great but not good enough. He could get an additional 100k for selling me. Sell me?! I begin to plead with my eyes, turning to anger, thrashing around in my restraints. "mmmpphhhh!!! grrrrrr!!!"

A knock on the door and I answer to two men dressed all in black. They came in looked at their new piece of merchandise and nodded with approval. This can't be happening! They throw a black body bag next to me, and I go into a full on panic. Screaming into the gag, trying my hardest to get out of the ropes, but it's no use. I look over at the newphew who is taking a briefcase from one of them. He gives me a little wave as my body is packed into the bag and I am zipped into the darkness. The next time I see anything but darkness, will be when I arrive at the destination of my buyer.

THE END

[sshewonders]

WARM BODIES

Chapter 08: Bit of Banter

chapter synopsis: You and Daryl share banter as he carries you through the woods back to camp. Despite his stoicism, your camaraderie grows. As evening nears, Daryl suggests a rest, and you promise not to fall asleep, leaving the both of you with a sense of trust and companionship between you two.

chapter warnings: The chapter contains mild language, emotional discussions, physical injury, carrying scenes, humor, character development, and survival themes in a woodland setting.

word count: 1.9k words

author's note: Okay, I seriously hope that this is not cringe, and I had written it as I'd imagined it in my mind. And oh, by the way, don't be too comfortable and wishing for a softer Daryl; you know the saying, "be careful what you wish for." Anyway, enjoy reading.

MASTERLIST

NEXT CHAPTER >>

You nervously gnawed on your lip as he persistently attended to your ankle with a massage. Occasionally, you couldn't help but emit either a contented sigh or an exaggerated groan, prompting him to shoot you a disapproving look and simultaneously cease his ministrations on your mildly sore ankle. To be brutally frank, your ankle wasn't in agonizing pain, but who in their right mind would turn down his, albeit somewhat coerced, offer to play ankle masseuse? It's like refusing a free ticket to the foot massage carnival.

"Why were you looking for me, anyway?" You began, "So much for the 'Ain't nobody got time to babysit you.'" You echoed his words, reminiscent of a little over a month ago.

Daryl halted the ankle massage, releasing a sigh as he nibbled on his bottom lip. "Knew you were gonna be here, deep in them forest."

"Really?" You shot him a puzzled look, your nose scrunching up a bit. Daryl nodded before resuming the ankle massage. "How did you know?"

Daryl paused the ankle massage and, with a gruff sincerity, said, "You're the type who'd rather spill your guts to the trees than start a conversation with someone, even if you know 'em pretty well." He continued massaging again.

“Oh.” You could feel your cheeks warming up with embarrassment. Were you really that obvious or was he really that observant?

"No need to be embarrassed. I'd do the same. Nowadays, it ain't easy trustin' folks, even if you think you know 'em well enough."

After a few minutes of quiet, only the serene sounds of the river, splashing fish, and birds' melodies surrounding the both of you, Daryl completed the ankle massage and settled down beside you. You both found yourselves captivated by the picturesque view of the river.

"Thanks, Daryl," You broke the silence. "For the ankle massage and for wandering through the woods to find me. I know I can be a real pain in your ass sometimes."

Daryl grunted, a nonchalant acknowledgment. "Ain't nothin'".

A pause lingered before Daryl cautiously broached a different topic, "Didn't mean to make you cry tha' night, back when we first talked."

You furrowed your brow, puzzled. "How'd you know I cried?"

Another grunt from Daryl, "Stood outside your tent. Was gonna apologize, heard you sniffle and sketch. Just stood there 'til I heard you crumblin' papers. Then, I left."

The revelation left you surprised and contemplative. "You...you were outside my tent that night?"

Daryl affirmed with a nod, his gaze still fixed on the river. "Yeah, I was."

There was a silence before you spoke up, "Sorry for asking about stuff I shouldn't have, Daryl."

Daryl stayed silent, letting you continue.

"I just... I wanted to learn how to be useful, y'know? Before all this happened, I felt useless. Still feel pretty much useless in this new world of ours." You took a deep breath. "I gotta figure things out for myself now. My brother's gone, and I can't trust anyone these days."

Daryl listened, his gaze fixed on the river.

"But when Glenn and I found you, everything sorta settled for me. It felt like I had a plan for my future." You paused, looking at Daryl. "And now, I don't even know where to start."

Daryl asked, "Why me?"

You shrugged, "I don't really know why. Just seemed right, I guess."

"Your brother, what was his name?"

You replied, "Rick Grimes. He was a sheriff's deputy, like Shane."

Daryl nodded, "Dipshit told you he's dead, didn't he?"

You smiled, although sad, and nodded back, "Yeah, he did."

Daryl leaned in a bit, "You don't really believe that, do you?"

You kept your sad smile, "Nope, not really. Wouldn't believe he's dead unless I see his body with my own eyes."

"Tell me about 'im."

You rambled on about your brother, "My brother was...well, he used to think he was some kind of superhero, always trying to save the day. Sheriff's deputy, he was. I swear, he thought he could rescue the world from bad hair days or something. Used to bug the hell outta me, but now I'd give anything to hear him ramble about his 'heroic' escapades again."

You chuckled, catching Daryl's eye, "And you'd think being a deputy, he'd have some epic stories. Nope. Most exciting thing was probably catching Mrs. Henderson's cat stuck up a tree. He'd go on and on about it like it was a damn mountain rescue."

You continued to talk about your brother, your words weaving through memories like a melancholy tapestry. "You know, Rick used to tell me stories when we were kids. Silly tales about superheroes and brave knights. He'd promise that as long as he was around, nothing bad would happen to me."

Your voice carried a weight of nostalgia and sorrow as you shared these fragments of the past with Daryl. "He became a sheriff's deputy, because he wanted to be like our Dad who was the previous Sheriff. Always looked out for people. But now... now it feels like he's gone, and I can't shake this feeling of being lost."

Unexpectedly, Daryl offered you his crossbow without saying a word, leaving you confused.

"What're you doing?" You asked.

Daryl replied, "First part of hunting is knowin' how to properly hold a weapon."

You chuckled, "Excuse me, I'm an archer too. I know how to use a bow."

Annoyed, Daryl retorted, "You want me to teach you or not?"

You grabbed the crossbow, admiring it, and teased, "Do I need to ask your beloved crossbow for permission before I press the trigger?" You laughed.

Daryl kept a straight face. "Shut up," he said, proceeding to instruct you on how to use the crossbow.

Daryl began instructing you, "Alright, listen up. First, you gotta have a steady grip. Hold it firm but not too tight. Feel the weight of it."

You followed his lead, adjusting your grip on the crossbow.

"Good. Now, your posture. Sit comfortably, back straight. Gotta be steady, or you'll miss your shot."

You nodded, ensuring your sitting position was solid. Daryl continued, "Next, line up the sights. You see those notches? Align 'em with your target. Take a deep breath, exhale slowly. And when you're ready, squeeze the trigger, don't jerk it."

You focused on the sights, taking a deep breath as Daryl had instructed. "Like this?"

Daryl nodded, "Yeah, that's it. Practice it a few times. Get the feel of it."

As you practiced, Daryl observed, occasionally giving pointers on your form and aiming. After a few tries, he suddenly said, "Hold up. Don't press the trigger just yet."

Confused, you looked at him. "Why not?"

Daryl explained, "If you're practicin' your aim at prey, it should be moving. Let's simulate that. Track something with your sights, follow its movement. Don't press the trigger till you get a feel for aimin' at a moving target."

After a session of aiming practice that left you feeling tired as hell, the sun began its descent, casting an orange hue across the horizon. It dawned on you that you and Daryl needed to make your way back to camp before darkness settled in. Daryl, always practical, stood up, collected his belongings, and suggested to head back.

Nodding in agreement, you decided to rise to your feet, only to end up sitting back down with a thud. The pain from your sprained ankle made standing an impossible feat. Daryl, observing your attempts with hands on his hips, witnessed the struggle. Sitting on the ground, you sighed, admitting defeat. "I can't stand," you acknowledged.

Expressing his annoyance, Daryl rolled his eyes, pivoted to face away from you, and knelt on the ground, patting his back as an invitation. "Come on," he urged.

Your curious "What?" prompted Daryl to respond, "Can't carry ya. Got things to carry. And don't get any ideas; didn't say you're heavy." He quickly countered your gasp, playfully insinuating the thought you were heavy.

Rolling your eyes at his teasing, you retorted, "You better not be calling me fat."

Daryl smirked, "Nope, not at all. Just practical. We both got stuff to carry. But since you can't walk, piggyback's the most sensible way to get ya back to camp."

Worried about being a burden, you hesitated, "I'll try to stand and walk."

Annoyed, Daryl glanced over his shoulder, muttering, "Get on my back before I decide to leave ya alone in these damn woods." Gulping, you secured your bag and bow on your back before gently climbing onto Daryl's back. As he rose to his feet with you securely on his back, he grunted, signaling the start of the walk back to camp.

As Daryl trekked through the woods, carrying you on his back, the unexpected conversation unfolded. Out of the blue, you proposed the idea of serenading him with a song. Daryl, in his usual straightforward manner, swiftly shut down the notion with a simple "Nope."

Unfazed, you shifted gears and suggested sharing a joke, earning nothing more than a grunt from the taciturn hunter.

Undeterred, you playfully remarked, "Must be tough for you, not being able to crack a smile."

Daryl, ever the stoic one, coolly replied, "I got a sense of humor, you know."

You, feigning skepticism, shot back, "Really? I don't see any evidence of it."

Daryl, with a hint of amusement, retorted, "You haven't said somethin' funny." Quick on your thinking, you teased, "Your face is funny." Daryl, surprisingly, looked over his shoulder, your faces in close proximity, and he maintained a deadpan expression.

"Hey, Daryl, ever hear the one about the squirrel who took up acting?"

Daryl, with a raised eyebrow, grunted, "Nope."

You chuckled and said, "He was a real nut case!"

Daryl's deadpan expression remained unchanged, prompting you to add, "You know, for a tough guy, you could use a laugh or two."

Daryl, without missing a beat, retorted, "Your jokes need some work."

Pouting playfully, you shot back, "Oh, come on! I bet even the geeks would crack up at that one!"

As Daryl trudged through the dense woods, you, still reveling in your own humor, couldn't resist another attempt at cracking a joke.

"Alright, Daryl, one more for you," you grinned. "Why did the geek join a gym?"

Daryl, in his usual monotone, replied, "I don't know."

"Because he wanted to improve his dead-lift!" You burst into laughter at your own joke.

Daryl, not sharing the same enthusiasm, simply grunted in response. You, wiping away tears of laughter, decided to shift the conversation.

"Hey, Daryl, do you think we'll run into any geek stand-up comedians out here?"

Daryl raised an eyebrow but offered no verbal response. You, however, continued your comedic musings.

"Maybe they'll have a killer routine!" You added, chuckling at your own pun.

Daryl, looking ahead, remarked, "You sure have a way with words." You beamed at the back of his head, proud of your comedic prowess.

As you both continued the journey, Daryl broke the silence, suggesting, "You might wanna rest for a bit. It's gonna be a long walk."

You, with a touch of pride, declared, "I won't fall asleep, promise."

( divider by @cafekitsune )

@celtic-crossbow @maackiimoo @duckmania127 @xmaeyonaiise @richardsamboramylove55 @snailss

[finalshaper]

about the pro shipping post you are so fucking right. when i was 16 i had proship dni on an aesthetic blog that i ran and i had multiple people harassing me for it over months. i've also had them call me ableist and homophobic slurs and sexually harass me when i was 16-18 for untagged unsearchable posts that they had to have scrolled back months in my blog to find. i was in a fandom at the time that had a LOT of people like that and there were many other people who got worse and had proshippers being wildly racist to them. they say curate your online experience and then throw a fit when you actually do.

Hi i'm sorry I didn't respond to this sooner! I was most likely absorbed entirely in skyrim Once Again.

Yeah, the proship movement has a tendency to harbor the absolute worst people in fandom circles and when you say "Hey if your movement is Truly Safe for victims/people of color /disabled folks/kids/etc then why the fresh sam hill fuck are you harboring Actual Racists, Actual Pedophiles, And Actual Horrible People" they take it as "kys lol go die" and not a request to Actually examine how their stances on something as terminally online as shipping discourse and the culture that it founded has sheltered these types of people.

And it's this inaction and refusal to address it in favour of perceiving it as a siege in a war that isn't actually happening (for lack of a better way to word it, no, people aren't out to get you they're asking you to examine your fucking community and WHY so many people feel unsafe around it aside from other reasons) is why I, and so many others, are in dislike of proshipping culture aside from. well. gestures wildly to the rest of it.

They take it as a blow to their egos rather than a genuine honest "Hey if what you ship Truly Is Inconsequential why does the culture you cultivate harbor, say, Actual Offending Pedophiles or Those Pedophiles That Label Themselves As "No-Contact" For Some Reason As If That Makes It Less Bad that are utilizing fandom space and proship culture as a quick and easy way to get targets within their reach?"

Side tangent/note here: Over the years many people have said that I cannot be pro-dark media and anti-proship. These things are not mutually exclusive and many, and I mean MANY people in circles focussing on dark and transgressive media are FULLY AWARE of the connection between reality and fiction (and how they both affect one another, the best way I can word it is that if you focus on one color pallet soon your world will be monochromatic, you gotta learn to focus on all the colors. If you saturate your life with too much "dark" or distressing content it will color your worldview and that is not what life is about) and often emphasize the importance of this distinction.

They also do not go out of their way to overly-romanticize the content they read (the public perception/general society's consumption of Lolita [vladimir nobokov] has been a disaster for the human race. if u think lolita is supposed to be a cute romance story you're misinterpreting the book and need to step back and examine just why you think that way and actually sit down and analyze the book and humbert as a character dear god stop turning it into a cutesy coquette aesthetic, shanespeare has a fucking amazing video talking about it and as an added bonus it's shorter than the typical 4+ hour video essays I often indulge in) as they often know better to do so and shun the people who do, ESPECIALLY when you're talking about books like The Slob (Aron Beauregard, even though that novel is essentially misogyny, homophobia, gore porn, a lot of fatphobia and shit like that and is all-around poorly written)

proshipping culture also relies a lot on a fanfic/fanart medium which is a VASTLY inappropriate place to explore these things (on top of, well, the type of people the culture has a tendency to attract n shit vs transgressive/dark media corners) and People Do Not Want To See Headcanons About Their Favourite Characters Being Rapists And Shit Like That I Promise You You Aren't "Coping" You're Just Making (some not all) People Around You Uncomfortable And Fucking Miserable Because You Decided That Their Comfort Character Is A Shotacon Or Some Shit (and that is before I get into how unless that character is canonically a piece of shit, making x character into a freak is a gross mischaracterization).

People come into fandoms for escapism, or to enjoy characters and stories with people and, yes I am speaking from personal experience here not only as ex-proship but also someone who's been 'round the block when it comes to fandoms.

There is a difference between transgressive lit i.e Lolita and someone writing a fanfic about a father/daughter relationship and not in the wholesome familial way we all know and love. That is knowing your place, understanding that fandom is a WILDLY inappropriate place to explore these things (seriously people, just write an original book! you got it in you clearly! i believe in you and maybe if you do it right you'll write something that's very touching and profound and opens up a lot of conversations!) and that fiction and reality do in fact impact and shape each other in more ways than you'd initially assume.

anyways rant/tangent over, sorry I went on for so long, I'm Very passionate about this discussion despite everything that's happened to me at the hands of it.

[druckkugelschreiber]

so I gotta know about "did you sleep with your teacher?"

(also I'm probably not doing the wip ask game myself until tomorrow)

Kel's out here asking the real questions! I'm so glad you asked (also no pressure on when you answer the game :D )

Also TW for underage teacher/student relationship!

So, the title 'Did you sleep with your teacher?' is from my Marvel / School for good and evil crossover fic. It's about Athena Stark, Tony Stark's nonbinary kid and Lady Lesso from the school for good and evil (again I don't think anybody is actually surprised).

Anyway, Athena, being a Stark and all, is in her last years of college being 17 years old and doing their second PhD. They take an advanced psychology class where Lesso is their teacher and the two hit it off.

Coincidentally Lesso is also a SHIELD agent/ recruiter.

The title is from a scene I haven't written yet where Tony finds out and is like "Did you sleep with your teacher?" And Athena is like "uuhhhh... no?" (Yes, she did in fact sleep with her very hot teacher).

Also on a tasty side note they have some fun desk sex that was very fun to write about.

Rather long snippet of them in the flirting stage below!

“What are you doing here?” Professor Lesso’s cool voice travelled down my back like the caress of a finger. 

I didn’t stop the maltreatment of the punching bag. “I’m working out.”

“You’ve never been here before”, her voice got closer, though I couldn’t hear the cadence of her steps over my rhythmic punching. 

“No, you’ve never seen me here before”, I corrected and stopped when she stepped within my field of view. 

So far I had seen her only in her teaching outfits, sharp cut suits, vest and tie and all. It made her look sophisticated and in charge, her wild curls always perfectly styled. But now, now, she wore tight fitting sports gear, that hugged her like a second skin. She had an incredibly athletic figure with lean muscles fitting perfectly with her sharp cut face. 

I wanted to feel her body against mine, those long, long legs wrapped around me. It didn’t help that she had braided back her hair, leaving her stunning face bare. The urge to pepper the line of her cheekbones with kisses was near overwhelming. 

“Stop being a smartass and answer the question.”

“I fear being a smartass is part of my genetic heritage”, I smirked. 

“Don’t make me hurt you, Stark.”

She really was making this easy on me. “Don’t tempt me with a good time.”

I never saw the strike coming. Well, correction, I saw the slight twitch, but didn’t expect her to actually attack me. She grabbed my wrist, whirled me around and nearly had me on the fucking floor before my body remembered hey we could fight too!

I slipped out of her grip for a second, but she readjusted and she was so much better than me. I managed to struggle a bit longer, but she had me on the mats in under a minute. I grunted in anger and pain. One of her knees on my shoulder, the other pressed down on my arm and elbow. Yeah she had me good. 

“Now, little mx sass”, she rasped in my ear, making me shudder despite my best efforts. “What are you doing here?”

“I already told you”, I smirked against the floor, “I’m working out.”

Lesso grumbled in frustration. “Why are you working out here? Instead of your usual gym?”

“Why do you think I have a usual gym?”

She readjusted the weight on my arm and I let out a pained breath, fuck was she hot. “I’m not daft, Stark. You don’t get a body like yours from not working out somewhere.”

My grin returned. “Noticed my body huh?” flirting with your prof? Bad idea. Flirting with your prof while you were still underage for a good three months? An even worse idea. Good thing I was always here for bad ideas. I wanted to wriggle to emphasise the statement but she still had so much pressure on my arm it would only hurt. 

“Hmh, yes”, Lesso purred and fuck me why was her voice so hot? “Now, Athena”, my name from her lips was a siren song. “Why are you here?”

“My usual gym is renovating”, I said, “and also I found out conveniently enough the room here is always empty around this time and I like being able to punch a bag without some guy coming over and trying to give me advice.”

Lesso scoffed in disbelief. No matter how much I turned my head, I couldn’t catch a look at her face. “Do you know why the room is usually empty at this time?”

“Please enlighten me, professor.” 

She readjusted the pressure on my arm, causing me to wince. “I have it booked.”

I held back a smirk that would have betrayed the fact that I knew that. I wasn’t dumb. I hadn’t just come into the college gym at random. Information was my business and I never missed it. Also when you were famous you sort of had to check the places you went to beforehand. 

“Oh, I’m sorry”, I said, “I had no idea.”

“Yes, you did”, Lesso hissed, “and now I have to punish you.”

Please do. I rested my head against the ground. 

She let go of me rather suddenly. 

I remained in the same position for a few seconds longer before I rolled around and carefully moved my arm to get rid of the throbbing. 

Lesso hadn’t stood up, still kneeling next to me so close that her knee rested against my hip. For someone who had just laid on the floor, my breathing was entirely too fast. “So what will it be, Athena? How would you like to be punished?”

“What do you have in mind, professor?” there was a rasp to my voice. 

Lesso smirked and stood up. “I guess I’ll have to teach you what happens when you interrupt my private time.”

Okay? Why had she stood up though?

“Get up. I’ll warm up and then we can spar.”

“Not the reason why I wanted to be unable to walk tomorrow.”

Lesso burst out laughing. The sound caught me entirely off guard. It was too cute for a trained assassin and spy. So open and full of light and with little dimples and oh my god, she shouldn’t be this cute laughing. “If you hadn’t interrupted, maybe I’d have done that.”

Oh fuck me she was mean. I pushed myself off the ground and tore off one of the punching gloves with my teeth, “fine.”

Her eyes got stuck on my teeth and lips. 

I raised an eyebrow, “didn’t you want to warm up?”

[pens-swords-stuff]

Hey I saw your Sleepover Sunday post, I've always wanted to interact with you, you seem cool and yours is one of the blogs that made me decided to start a writeblr (dead as it is rn) so I decided to push myself to do it. Have you ever had the problem of suddenly having to many ideas of things to work on? Especially when you maybe don't have the time to devote to them or after a long writer's block? Hope you're having a good day

Thanks so much! I'm always down to chat and interact, so I'm very happy that you were brave and took that step. I'm also very happy that you decided to join the community.

I would push back against the idea that writeblr is dead though. @yvesdot recently made a fantastic post about that right here that I recommend you read. TL;DR, being active on writeblr is a lot of work, so the activity of the people we follow will ebb and flow. People get busy, people stop writing, blogging is not a priority for a lot of people... But there's always people active in the community — like you! You just gotta go find them!

But yeah, I have had that experience before. Not often, but usually just around times that I'm on a hiatus from writing (like right now, actually) and for me it's usually a sign that my creativity is recharged and I'm getting restless from not doing anything creative that I'm beginning to pick up ideas and inspiration from a lot of things.

I don't consider it a problem though! In my opinion, having an overabundance of ideas is not a bad thing. I just start writing some down, follow them to my heart's content (and maybe that starts a long term project, or maybe it's just a couple of short lines, both are fine), and make a note of them. Eventually, I might go back to them when the time is right, and maybe I won't. Either way, once I have the idea written down and stored some place, it'll always be ready for me, whenever I want to pursue it.

It’s Sleepover Sunday: Come chat with me!

[with-love-from-hell]

5 Sides of Human

{Part seven}

Genre: Mixed

Character profiles for the Mc’s featured in this series

WC: ~4k

CW: swearing, anxiety, depictions of anger and verbal aggression, sarcasm, joking about poop, SUGGESTIVE, some hurt, self-deprecation, Storm has a stutter but I am not depicting it with written word consistently, pining, spoilers for season 1&2!

Part six  <<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>    Part eight

©️ artwork commissioned by @vivi8bit ©️  

“W-wait a second! Satan, I-” Mammon yelped, being pulled down aggressively from the crater he had created in the ceiling. As he collapsed onto the floor, covered head-to-toe in blaze-orange dust, the classroom erupted into a fit of laughter. 

“Mammon, what the hell is wrong with you?” Satan hissed. “You could have killed Storm!”

“Eh?!” Mammon whipped around with worry enveloping his entire expression, nearly falling over himself in the process. “Where is she!? Is she okay??” 

“Lucifer’s taking her to the infirmary.” Satan sighed, crossing his arms in frustration. “I mean seriously though, are you that much of an idiot? Storm never mixed a potion in her life and yet she knew better than you.” 

“She hasn’t even been back for a full 48 hours and Mammon already injured her.” Belphie sighed. “You’re really gonna be in for it when Lucifer comes back.” 

“I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“Of course you didn’t.” Belphie rolled his eyes. “You were just trying to impress Storm by acting like a genius, which we all know you’re not.”

Mammon’s face burned behind the orange hue painting his cheeks. He turned his head away, mumbling under his breath. “I ain’t tryn’a impress nobody...’specially not S-Storm...”

Satan shook his head. “No, you totally were. What did you think would happen? She would fall head over heals for you just because you could grind some ingredients into paste better than anyone else?” 

“Wait a minute,” Sarah grinned evilly, “you really do have a crush on Storm, don’t you, Mammon!?” 

Mammon scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. “No I don’t! S-she’s just some lousy human, just like the rest of ya!” 

Sarah leaned forward, now much more interested in the developments of today’s class. “Ooh, you gotta spill. Have you asked her out yet? Or dropped some hints that you want to...you know...” Sarah raised her eyebrows suggestively. 

“Oh please.” Vivi rolled her eyes, scribbling on the corner of her lab report. “We have all already seen him following her around like a duckling and staring at her when you think no one is looking. Plus, you wouldn’t shut the hell up about her before she even got here.” 

“Ha, yeah. You think she hasn’t noticed by now, Mammon?” Belphie snickered before nuzzling his head back into his folded arms. 

Mammon’s blush darkened as he tried to mumble out an excuse. “W-well! She’s at least nicer to me than you guys! So yeah! It makes sense that I get along better with her...at least a little bit- I mean, uh- no, that’s not what I meant. I meant to say-”

“I’d hate to intrude on your riveting conversation,” the professor remarked coldly, standing behind Mammon with an angry aura wafting off of him. “But I’d like my class to get back to order. Since all of you are so keen on making small talk, I assume that means your project is complete and you can help Mammon clean up this room.” 

Before any of them could protest, the professor dropped two arm-fulls of cleaning supplies around the group. After sparing annoyed glances at the 2nd oldest, they all cleaned the room under the watchful eye of the professor. 

“Why does Diavolo want Storm here?” Beel pondered aloud after seeing Storm enter the Student Council Chambers, tailing closely behind Lucifer. 

“You’ll find out in time. Take your seats.” Lucifer snarled, clearly still annoyed from the chaos that took place earlier today. 

“I suppose with all of the brothers and Storm here now its time to get started!” Diavolo grinned. “I call this officer’s meeting to order.” 

“We will be discussing plans for the school festival today.” Lucifer noted, scribbling words quickly onto the parchment in front of him. “First though, we must select a leader for the committee.” 

Mammon groaned. “Hard pass.” 

“Don’t worry Mammon.” Levi snickered. “There’s no way you’ll end up getting chosen.” 

“Especially not after today.” Satan chuckled, eyeing the remnants of orange dust still visible under Mammon’s collar. 

“Hey! What’s that supposed to-”

“Maybe we should just draw straws like last year. That’s the most reasonable way, right?” Now fully ignoring Mammon, Satan sat up in his chair, looking poised. 

“But Beel got it last year, remember? And we all know how horrible that turned out...” Asmo sighed, remembering how Beel had managed to consume all of his stage make-up for his singing performance. 

“Don’t remind me...” Beel sheepishly sank in his seat, fiddling with his large fingers. 

“Agreed. We cannot have a repeat of last year’s festival- especially with such important guests in attendance.” Diavolo glanced toward Storm, giving her a warm smile. “We’ll do something different this year. Instead, I am going to be appointing the head of the committee myself.” 

The brothers all collectively groaned, each not wanting the task pushed onto them. 

“With that said...Storm, I assume I can count on you to fill that role?” 

“Me?” Storm blinked back her surprise, darting her eyes across the brothers to try to convince herself she had misheard. “Why me?” 

“Because I want it to be you.” Diavolo beamed at her as she nervously avoided his gaze. 

“B-but...I’m not sure I’m cut out for something like that...” 

“Surly you are joking.” Lucifer stated pointedly. He shook his head after being met with her confused, unblinking stare. “Your entire job in the human world was event planning, was it not? In addition, you are innately well organized, and have an incredible ability juggle multiple tasks- so much better than anyone in this room,” Lucifer paused, clearing his throat nervously, “...myself included.” 

Storm was surprised at the sudden praise, almost wondering if she had heard him correctly. 

“Well, it’s decided.” Diavolo folded his hands in front of him, his smile growing larger as he met Storm’s eyes. “I look forward to seeing what you can do.” 

“Ya hear that? That’s the spoiled royal in Diavolo speakin’.” Mammon murmured quietly under his breath. 

“Maammonnnn...” Lucifer growled, eyes shining a dangerous red as he glared across the table at his younger brother. 

Mammon cleared his throat, averting his eyes from the eldest. As if to look at something passing overhead, he began staring at the ceiling, whistling to himself. 

“Storm...” Diavolo lowered his voice, attempting to comfort her anxiousness. “There’s no need to overthink it. Just do your best.” 

Storm nodded, still uncertain in Diavolo’s confidence in choosing her. She looked among the brothers, many of whom looked simultaneously relieved that they didn’t get the task assigned to them, and excited to work under Storm’s command for the festival preparations. 

“Now then, your first task will be to prepare something for the student council to do in the festival. Just like any other student organization or club, we participate in our own event at the festival. Last year, we hosted a talent show. But the question for this year is what exactly we are going to do.” Diavolo tapped his pen on his planner, tilting his head to rest on his fist. His eyes shimmered as he watched Storm’s eyes shift to him, seemingly taking his words in carefully. “I’d like to hear the best ideas at our next meeting, Storm. Naturally, you are welcome to bring in ideas from the human world. The rest of you are welcome to discuss your thoughts with Storm, but she will be presenting what she deems the best of what you all come up with.” 

The brothers began excitedly chattering amongst each other, already debating their ideas credibility. Diavolo dismissed the meeting, noting that the festival leadership was all that was needed to be discussed at the meeting. The brothers began packing up their belongings, trying to already bombard Storm with their ideas for the festival. Before Lucifer could qualm their erratic behavior, Diavolo stopped him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

“By the way, Lucifer.” Diavolo leaned down, murmuring the words in a volume only he could hear. “It seems we are one officer short today, aren’t we?” 

Lucifer’s face drained in color and he immediately glanced around the room, taking stock of who had showed up. Diavolo was right- Belphie was nowhere to be seen.

Diavolo chuckled. “Perhaps Belphegor had more pressing business to attend to? He has been getting closer Fern- maybe their forgetfulness has rubbed off on him...” 

Lucifer swallowed hard, feeling a mixture of shame and frustration bubble in his chest. How could he not have noticed that Belphie had not shown up? Maybe if he’d been less focused on his excitement of Storm being there...

“Well then, I’ll be off.” Diavolo patted Lucifer’s shoulder. “Take care, everyone.” 

Lucifer gritted his teeth as Diavolo strolled out the door. The room was tensely quiet; the increasing feeling of impending doom for the youngest brother rising steadily. 

“So...Belphie missed the meeting without giving any notice...” Lucifer growled, slamming his portfolio closed without care. “I cannot believe he would embarrass me in front of Diavolo like that. Does he have a death wish?” 

Storm approached, picking up some loose parchment that had fallen on the floor. She handed the papers to him hesitantly, flinching when he snatched them from her hands and shoved them into the portfolio. “Do you really think he’d just decide to skip? Even if Belphie didn’t want to come, he would have at least known it would piss you off, right?”

Lucifer sighed angrily. “Even if so, I wont let it go unpunished.”  

Storm gave him a sympathetic look as he collected his belongings. “I’ll go find him.” 

“No,” Lucifer shook his head. “I want my brothers to go find Belphie. He isn’t your responsibility, Storm. Who I want you to find is Fern. They definitely have something to do with this.”  

“What?!” Mammon’s jaw dropped. “Ya can’t be serious?”

Satan scowled. “Why us?” 

Lucifer clenched his fists, fighting the urge to yell with Storm standing right in front of him. “Either you find him and send him to my office, or you’re all skipping dinner tonight. Do I make myself clear?”

The group groaned, sulking out of the council chambers. Storm followed behind at Lucifer’s side, trying to think of a way to calm him down. She thought for a moment about holding his hand, but suppressed the idea after seeing how tightly wound his fists were. She figured he would have to sort this out on his own, rather than try to convince him to go easy on his brothers. 

Lucifer parted ways after crossing the threshold to the chambers, storming off to his office further down the hall and slamming the door behind him. As the search for Belphie and Fern began, each brother peeled off from the group, insisting they had better things to do than worry about the whereabouts of the youngest brother. All that remained was Beel and Storm, left to find the pair on their own. 

“Storm, I can’t miss dinner tonight. I’ll die.” Beel whined, holding her hand in his. “Can we search for them together? If we find Belphie first, I’ll help you find Fern! Please, Storm!!”

Storm chuckled, patting his hand reassuringly. “Relax, Beel. I was going to help look for him anyway.”

Beelzebub gripped Storm into a tight embrace. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

She smiled, hugging him back. “Of course, Beel. Let’s get searching.”

“Hey, Belphie.” Fern yawned, rubbing their eyes sleepily. “What time is it?” 

“Dont know. Dont care.” Belphie rolled over, nuzzling his head into their shoulder. “Gonna go back to sleep now. Night.” 

Fern felt around for their DDD. “Didn’t you have a council meeting though? Lucifer’s gonna be pissed if you’re late again.”

Belphie scoffed. “Since when do you give a shit about that?” 

Fern finally found their phone, shooting Belphie a pointed glare. “Since you blamed me for you being late the last time and pissy older brother hung me upside down from the ceiling with you for 3 hours.” 

Belphie snickered, remembering how Fern had screeched at the top of their lungs about needing to be let down use the restroom. It wasn’t until threatening to shit on Lucifer’s desk that he finally allowed them down. 

Fern looked at their DDD, seeing it was well past the end of the class period they shared together. “Looks like we slept through class.”

Belphie grunted in response, turning over again to cling to a large pillow. Fern shook their head snuggling back into place next to him. They wouldn’t have imagined becoming so close to the youngest given his calloused demeanor upon their first meeting, but after learning his thirst for chaos was just as strong as theirs, the two became nearly inseparable. They rested their head on his back, basking in the moment until a loud buzzing from underneath the mountain of pillows caught their attention. 

“Belphie, that’s your phone.” 

The sleepy demon merely groaned in annoyance, pulling another pillow over his head. 

“Hey! You Punk! What if it’s important!” Fern poked Belphie’s sides, causing him to squirm. 

“Don’t care.” 

“Belphie, come on.” Fern scowled, getting a middle finger in response. “Fine, I’m gonna answer it and pretend to be you.” Fern lowered their voice into a mocking tone to how Belphie usually talked. “Look at me, I’m Belphegor. I like to fart in my sleep so much that one time I trusted one that I shouldn’t have and got caught by Lucifer when I tried to wash the evidence away in the kitchen sink.” 

Belphie’s eyes snapped open and whipped the pillow off of his head, glaring angrily at Fern. “Hey! I told you that in confidence!” 

Fern stuck out their tongue, accompanying the action with a loud fart noise. Quickly, the once peaceful nap escalated into a wrestling match, with insults thrown back and forth at the other, including Fern calling Belphie a “Little poopy diaper boy” and Belphie calling Fern a “Snot-haired freak.” The wrestling match ended with Belphie staring down at Fern, both breathing intensely and the tension growing thick between them. 

Ultimately, the phone was left unanswered. 

“It’s no use.” Beelzebub whined as he and fern crossed the threshold to the House of Lamentation. “I’ve tried texting him and calling him and he wont answer me.” 

Storm rubbed Beel’s back in an attempt to sooth his anxiety. “Don’t worry, Beelie. We’ll find him.” 

Beel whined once more, uncertain of if they would actually be able to find Belphegor. Missing dinner would not be good, and would ultimately land him in more trouble after destroying the kitchen on a hunger rampage. What’s more, it put his favorite human in harms way; the fear of losing control over his gluttony ringing like an alarm bell in the back of his mind. 

“He wasn’t anywhere at RAD in his usual sleeping areas, nor in the unusual ones. He wasn’t in the park...so he has to be here, right?” Storm tapped her chin thoughtfully as Malice ran into the corridor to greet them. “So...if I were Belphie...Where would I go to nap if I wanted to ditch school early?” 

Beel paused for a moment, ruffling the fur on Malice’s head. “Well, the two places he would usually be napping would be in our room, or in the attic.”

Storm nodded. “I’ll check the attic, you check your bedroom.” 

Beel fumbled with his hands, nodding slowly in response. As Storm turned to leave with Malice in tow, Beel grabbed her by the wrist. “Storm...What if something bad happened to him?” 

Storm’s eyes softened, taking his large hand in hers. “I’m sure he’s fine, Beel. Don’t worry.” 

Beel gave her a weary smile, still unconvinced, but accepting of her optimism. The two parted ways, going to search the areas where they hoped the youngest brother would be. 

It took some time for Storm to finally reach the attic, having to pause and stretch out her back a couple times due to the lingering pain from having fallen on her back one too many times over the past few days. After stopping to catch her breath at the top of the spiral stairs, she quietly peered into the attic. For a moment, a flashing memory of releasing Belphegor from his confines played in her brain, the consequences of which lead to her demise. She shook the memory away as she moved forward, trying to forget the incident that she still had lingering nightmares about from time to time. 

Storm breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Belphegor curled up in the mess of pillows and blankets. Clutching him for dear life was Fern, who’s hair looked like it had been whipped through a tornado. Their shirt was missing, as was Belphie’s, causing Storm to raise an eyebrow. 

“Hey, Lovebirds.” Storm called, teasingly. She prodded Fern with her foot, earning a groan in response. 

“5 more minutes...” Fern murmured, nuzzling their face into Belphie’s hair.

Storm smirked. “Fine, but you guys are only gonna prolong your suffering. You’ve really pissed Lucifer off, ya know?” 

Belphie’s eyes snapped open, and he shifted his awareness to Storm. “What do you mean?” 

Storm sighed, shaking her head. “You missed the council meeting.” 

“Oh...Shit...” Belphie groaned, sitting up and stretching. Fern reluctantly got up as well, grumbling about how Lucifer was a “wack ass.” 

“Seriously, guys. He’s pissed.” Storm noted, her tone more serious. “Were you both literally just up here screwing around?” 

The two furrowed their brows, before sharing a confused glance. Upon seeing their disheveled state of dress, their faces fell, becoming embarrassed after having been caught after their recent activities.

“W-we weren’t doing anything...” Fern tried to defend themselves, throwing on their shirt. “We were just trying to nap...comfortably.”

“Right...” Storm nodded, rolling her eyes. “Well...napping then? You really think that’s a good excuse to skip out on class and student council meetings?” 

“Duh.” Belphie scoffed, rising to his feet. “My last class was advanced Seductive Spellcraft. Do you know how much energy that takes out of me?” 

Storm shook her head. “Well, have fun with the consequences then.” 

“C’mon, Stormy.” Fern pleaded. “Don’t be a narc.” 

Storm ignored Fern’s begging, pulling out her phone to text Beelzebub that she had found the pair. Immediately after, she texted Lucifer, informing him she had found Belphie in the attic. Having just gotten home, he requested she bring him down to the common room to face punishment.

“Come on you two, let’s go.” Storm motioned for them to follow, being met with groans. Storm crossed her arms, the pair clearly having no intention on moving. Putting her foot down, Storm decided to assert herself for the benefit of the rest of the family. She invoked the power of the pact, the purple mark on the back of her neck. “Belphie, grab Fern and follow me to the common room. Now.” 

“Wait, Storm!” Belphie tried to stop himself, but the pact was too strong. He tossed Fern over his shoulder, following Storm down the stairs to the common room. The entire way down, the two shouted their protests, trying to get Storm to relinquish her pact power. Fortunately, the two were still too groggy to know that Fern could have used their own pact to over-ride her invocation. 

“Thank you for the work you continue to do with my brothers, Storm.” Lucifer handed her a demonus glass, finally able to rest after the hellish day he had. The bottle rested on the table, as if to signal an empty glass could be refilled if she would only stay with him.

Storm smiled, taking a sip from the glass. “It’s no problem. I’m glad you agreed that extra chores was a better fit for the both of them rather than hanging them from the ceiling again. ” 

Lucifer returned her smile, settling in next to her. “I suppose I can’t have Fern threatening to defecate on my belongings again. They’re so unpredictable that I believe they may attempt it.” 

Storm laughed heartily, causing Lucifer’s heart to flutter in his chest. They continued to talk about her time away and the behavior of his brothers since her absence, how they’ve each been doing in the time spent apart, ideas for the student council’s activity in the festival, and things that had been planned out thus far for the festival. After a few drinks, the conversation moved into a comfortable silence, the noises of the others moving about the house- filling the space between them. He slyly shifted his arm behind her on the sofa, questioning whether to drape it over her shoulders to see how she would respond. 

“It’s nice being back here.” Storm sighed, tracing figures on the seat of the couch. “I missed you guys a lot.” 

“Despite the problems they seem to always be involved in?” Lucifer smirked.

Storm giggled. “Yes, despite all of the chaos. I love being around you all. It makes me feel like I have a normal family.”

Now it was Lucifer’s turn to laugh. “Oh, my dear Storm. We are far from a normal family.” 

“Yeah I suppose so. But it’s not like my other family was normal either. This is definitely preferable, even if I keep getting thrown into walls.” She smirked back to him, finding joy in her ability to relax and be playful after the past few days.

“While that may be true, I feel as though your willingness to get involved in my family drama results in more pain than it’s worth sometimes.” He chuckles, “I’d be damned if I didn’t have you around, though.”

“Well, I try my best to be useful. I don’t have much else to offer other than that.” Storm gave a small laugh. When Lucifer didn’t give any response, she turned to him. His face was now twisted into a concerned frown- drastically different from the playful smirk he dawned before.

“Storm...” He sighed, shaking his head. He almost didn’t want to entertain such a ludicrous thought. “You don’t actually believe such a thing, do you?” 

She was taken aback by the question, used to using the deprecating humor against herself, or having it used against her, and laughing along with it. She chewed her lip.  “Uhh...I mean...I guess? I’ve never really found anything else about myself worth praising.” 

Lucifer furrowed his brow, finding himself feeling angry at who in their right mind would convince her of such a thing. 

Storm shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “Uh- well...It’s not like, that huge of a deal. I’ve made my peace with it, and I like doing things for others, so-”

“Storm.” Lucifer stated sternly, placing his hand delicately on her knee. “You have worth beyond what people can use you for.” 

Storm blinked, her eyes widening in surprise. “I-” 

“I’m not finished.” Lucifer noted, squeezing her leg delicately. “I could go on for hours about the things that I admire about you. While your willingness to help in stressful situations is one of those things, I assure you that it is definitely not the only thing worth feeling fondness over.” 

Storm looked away, only for her cheek to be captured by his palm. He turned her face back toward him, inching his face closer to hers. She felt her heart rate increase, as he stared into her eyes, seemingly trying to find something to say. Lucifer ran his thumb across her cheek slowly, narrowing the gap even further.

As their lips met, Storm felt her heart skip a beat in her chest. For someone who was standoffish about his feelings earlier in the day, he seemed to be laying his heart on his sleeve now. Perhaps it was the alcohol, or the building tension between the two, but the stress of the world seemed to fade away into the ether- leaving only their hearts behind, beating in-sync.

[1spooky-dad]

For a while now i had been feeling so much guilt over my inability to properly form habits for things my brain thinks aren't necessary (ADHD, the bitch) because it would cause me as coming off as a bother to my roommates. The only reason I was able to remember to put the toilet seat down for a while was cause the cat started drinking from my toilet. But then i got him a fountain and that problem went away, and back i went to forgetting to put the seat down. Habit doesnt stick. Till one day, a strip of masking tape showed up on the under side of the lid, with the words "i will cause you unimaginable harm" written on it. A subtle nudge from my friend to put the seat down. Other things like taking out the trash happen regularly, only cause friend puts the bag of trash right in front of the door the night before, and I'm the first one out of the house most mornings so i gotta take the trash with me to open the door.

For a long while i thought my inability to form habits was annoying and grating on my friends, but recently my best friend admitted that, yeah, while it can bug him that i forget things, it's actually kinda enriching to find ways to get me to do things.

There's currently three separate tape notes in my bathroom reminding me to put the toilet seat down cause after a while my brain tunes them out unless he spices them up every so often. when he notices the seat stating up again after so long, he knows it's time to add to the note. The trash in front of the door. Various threats of strangulation with receipt paper if he finds another old receipt laying around the house.

He's literally my platonic soul mate, we enrich each other's lives in ways that other people can't comprehend. It's not about being So Similar you're like the same person, it's about being different in such perfect ways that what you lack, the other person can easily adjust for. And to think i wouldn't have this if we didn't meet in a subway parking lot dressed up as a spider and robot.

[angelfic]

— SECRETS AND SKATEPARKS.

pairing: tasm!peter parker x reader

summary: you have a sneaking suspicion about your best friend and will apparently go to any lengths to prove yourself right.

warnings: mentions of violence/bruises, kissing, basically just a bunch of pg13 fluff, friends to lovers au.

author’s note: very much enjoying the andrew garfield spiderman love recently (don’t know where you all were 9 years ago but that’s not my business) so here’s a fic for my favourite spidey! i don’t think i’ve written for marvel in over a year and my writing is kinda rusty, but enjoy nonetheless!! ♡

“I wonder what Spider-Man looks like,” you absentmindedly mumble, scribbling down the answer to the Calculus question you were working on.

This piques your best friend Peter’s interest and his gaze quickly shoots from his own homework to you. “What, why? Wh-why does that, uh, matter?”

“No, I’m just saying, y’know?” You shrug, not thinking anything of it until you catch his expression. His head is tilted in confusion and he resembles a lost puppy with curiosity painted plain as day on his face.

God, why does your best friend have to be so cute. Okay, maybe a slightly inappropriate thought to be having, but it’s not like you’re hurting anyone! Other than yourself, that is, by not having your feelings returned. Collateral damage.

“He’s, like, super strong right?” you ask, turning back to your homework. Mostly to avoid looking at Peter, but also because you aren’t quite as good at calculus as him. He hums in answer, prompting you to continue. “Which means he’s probably super ripped. And if he’s super ripped, he’s gotta be like…”

You trail off, thinking he gets where you’re going. But when you look at him again, his brows are furrowed and you can’t help chuckling. “Spider-Man is probably really hot.”

Peter chokes on air.

“That’s not even-“ He cuts himself off, shaking his head which causes his hair to fall into his eyes, bringing more attention to the blush creeping it’s way onto his face. “I’ve always thought he was too… lanky.”

“Pfft!” You look at him like he’s gone crazy. “He’s not lanky. He’s tall. Tall guys are hot. He’s clearly got muscle. Probably was a popular jock or something in high school.”

“Yeah,” he says through a grin. He goes back to his homework and smiles like he’s sharing a private joke with himself, most likely at your mindless ramblings about Spider-Man. “That sounds about right.”

“And have you seen his ass?”

Peter chokes again.

“You good, Pete?” you inquire, raising an eyebrow at how awkward he is at the mention of Spider-Man’s ass. Just another aspect of his personality that you find irritatingly endearing.

“Just peachy,” he replies, through a strained voice.

You try, you really do, to keep in your laughter at his word choice. Unfortunately, you’ve never been good at that and as a result, you burst into a fit of giggles. Peter realises why you’re uncontrollably laughing soon enough and he groans, yet is unable to stop the corners of his mouth lifting. “You’re a child.”

“I can’t believe you said that. Of all phrases,” you say breathlessly, wiping a tear and finally calming down. This lasts a full five seconds and you don’t stop laughing again until you hear the click of a camera going off. “Hey!”

Peter had a habit of randomly taking photos of you, sometimes with him but mostly candid ones where you weren’t aware. A lot of the time he would print them out and stick them onto his collage inside his wardrobe, much to your protests.

“Delete that, I probably look hideous,” you whine, getting up to grab the device out of his hands as he looks at the picture he took, grinning. “Let me see!”

“Nope.” He pulls the camera out of your reach last minute, making you fall onto the bed with an indignant huff. “And you’ve never looked hideous a day in your life,” he mumbles under his breath, a hint of a scowl playing at his lips.

Pretending not to hear this, at the risk of him seeing your burning hot face, you go back to your homework. Curse Peter Parker and his stupid offhand comments that he doesn’t even know have an effect on you.

Somewhere in the eventual comfortable silence of your bedroom, Peter’s phone goes off and he shoots to his feet, collecting all his things into his backpack.

“Forgot I need to, uh, help Aunt May with some stuff,” he explains, already rushing out of the door, offering you an apologetic smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, okay see you-“ The door slams shut. “Later. I guess.”

And with that he’s gone, leaving your stupid heart still fluttering.

You see him the next day in school, just before second period. He missed first, as per usual. He never used to be late to class, but recently you’ve been catching him in the school hallways rather than outside your window on the fire escape so you can walk to school together.

“Parker!” you yell to get his attention as you make your way to his locker. He looks up, grins and gives you a little wave. There goes that heart again.

Just as you reach him, some girl bumps into you as she rushes to get to class, causing you to stumble and fall on Peter.

Immediately, Peter catches you by the waist, where you would otherwise have fallen face first. His hold on you is strong and steady, nothing like his old, clumsy self. That being said, your hand grips his upper arm and you gulp at the hard muscle beneath his jacket.

Woah, you think to yourself. When has he even had time to work out?

While you aren’t completely surprised since you’ve caught glimpses of his arms and peeks of his stomach as he’s taken his hoodies and jackets off in the last couple weeks, you didn’t think he was this jacked.

“Uh, fast reflexes there, Parker,” you nervously chuckle, still in the same position.

Your words seem to break him out of a trance and he clears his throat, gaze flickering down to your lips for a nanosecond and you almost miss it. You don’t, of course, since your face is mere inches away from his and you’re about to pass out from the smell of his intoxicating shampoo.

“You okay?” he asks with wide eyes, pulling you back up and you use everything within you not to complain about the loss of contact.

“Yeah, I’m f-“ you cut yourself off, properly taking in his face this time. A bruise is forming under eye his, directly on his cheekbone, and you gasp, tentatively reaching a hand out to trace it. Peter furrows his brows in confusion until you speak up, but your voice doesn’t raise above a whisper. “Peter, what happened…?”

“This little thing?” He looks away, pulling his hood up higher over his face, giving you a sheepish smile. Probably as an attempt to calm you down. It doesn’t work. “It’s nothing, really. I just… had a skating accident.”

“You didn’t have it last night!” you insist, struggling to see how and when it could have happened. “You also didn’t have your skateboard last night when you left, and you couldn’t have done it this morning because it’s already starting to bruise.”

Peter stares at you like a deer caught in headlights. “Since when did you become a detective?”

“That’s not the point! Did someone do this to you or something?” you demand, crossing your arms. “Because if they did, I’m going to seriously kick some ass!”

You can already imagine the steam coming out of your own ears, but when Peter starts to hide a smile behind his hand, you become furious.

“Is something funny about this?” you seethe, narrowing your eyes and taking a step closer in an attempt to intimidate an answer out of him. His smile grows.

“You’re just cute when you’re trying to be scary,” he says, grin on full display now. “Especially when you’re like, this tall.”

He looks at the tiny space between his fingers, showing you too.

“I can’t help it if you’re a tree,” you mumble angrily, practically looking up at him.

“Wasn’t it you who said tall guys are hot?” Peter rubs a hand across his jaw, pretending to be in deep thought. “Are you saying I’m hot?”

“Oh, shut up, you know you’ve got that hot skater boy thing going on. Don’t act like you don’t see those girls at the skate park ogling you! They don’t even skate!” you scoff, probably a little more annoyed than you should be at the idea of girls looking at your best friend. To your surprise, Peter looks like he’s just received brand new information.

“Those girls look at me?” he asks slowly, pointing a finger at himself. Then, as if he’s just taken in your words, he blinks. “You really think I’m hot?”

Spluttering, you refuse to answer the question, imagining the million ways that could go wrong. “Don’t change the subject, Parker! Now tell me h-“

“Shouldn’t you two be in class right now?” You’re interrupted by one of your teachers, looking at you expectantly.

“Y-yeah, sorry ma’am,” Peter quickly apologises, seeing his way out. You almost curse aloud when you remember your second period isn’t with him.

“This isn’t over,” you hiss, not looking back at his reaction before rushing to class. Unfortunately you can’t afford to have a detention on your record this early in the year.

You spend the whole school day without seeing Peter - big shocker - and when you get home you don’t bother inviting him round to study since he’s probably just going to be busy anyway.

Sighing, you throw your bag onto your bed and sink down into your desk chair to look at the news for a few minutes before inevitably getting lost in a Netflix binge marathon. The first thing that pops up is obviously the new vigilante and friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, a clip of last night that was recorded by some passerby on the street.

Captivated by the way he swings around effortlessly, you marvel at him holding his own against eight grown men. That’s not the only thing you marvel at, remembering your conversation with Peter yesterday and laughing to yourself.

The footage is shaky, but shows clear as day every web shot by Spider-Man and the one hit he receives. That’s gotta hurt, you think, just as one of the guys swings a metal bar into the vigilante’s face, right under his eye.

That’s definitely going to bruise, you shudder, before switching it off and pulling up Netflix.

You’ll probably text Peter in an hour or so to check on him and make sure he’s putting ice on his own bruise.

Wait. His bruise… that’s in the same spot as where Spider-Man got hit last night…

No, you scoff. That’s just a coincidence. You’re just being fanciful because there’s no way your best friend is Spider-Man.

He would tell you, right?

Just like he told you where he got that bruise, you realise, swallowing harshly. You cant believe you’re even considering this, but he has been weirdly secretive. And it’s been around the time Spider-Man first started to show up. That explains the muscles and the weirdly fast reflexes and how he isn’t as clumsy as he used to be and how he doesn’t wear his glasses anymore.

“Contact lenses, my ass,” you mutter to yourself.

You look at one of the pictures you have of Peter pinned to the cork board above your desk. You had taken it recently with his camera, insisting that he had too many of you and you wanted some of your own. Studying the way he covers his face and his stance, you’re hit with the startling realisation that he has the same build as Spider-Man. The same height, the same lean body…

Oh, you’re going to kill Peter Parker.

An idea hits you with all the weight of a freight train and you abandon your laptop and Netflix plans to head to the skate park. Once you arrive, you head to the top of the ramp, thankful there’s no one there right now.

Whipping out your phone, you drop a quick text to Peter.

emergency @ skate park. get here quick.

You wait a couple minutes, looking down at the bottom of the ramp to calculate how badly you’d be injured if your suspicions weren’t correct.

Your internal debate over whether or not this whole thing is worth breaking an arm over is interrupted by Peter running up to join you on the ramp with a terrified expression on his face.

He definitely wouldn’t have gotten here in time if he wasn’t Spider-Man.

“Oh my god, are you okay?!” he practically yells, grabbing hold of your shoulders to inspect you. You almost break and tell him that you’re fine and you just wanted to test your theory. Until you see the bruise on his face again.

Taking his hands off your shoulders, you take a small step back, wobbling on the ramp. His worried eyes only narrow in confusion slightly, probably still shook up by your text.

“Here goes nothing,” you say, stomach churning as you turn your back to the edge of the ramp and fall.

You catch sight of Peter’s face about to yell out for you, but he doesn’t waste a second before starting towards you.

If your breath wasn’t already caught in your throat from falling, it definitely would have been when the webs shoot from his wrist and latch onto you.

Despite expecting this, you gasp, breathing heavily. Shit, you think. You had not thought about the rest of this plan.

Pulling you up with ease, Peter pulls you by the webs attached to your shirt and into his arms. “What the hell did you do that for? Were you trying to break your neck? What if I couldn’t have caught you? God, I hate you for doing that to me, I literally thought my heart was about to st-“

“You caught me,” you say, voice muffled by the fact Peter is holding you tightly against him. That doesn’t stop you from rambling though. “You actually managed to catch me with- with your webs. Oh my God, I was right.”

Pulling you away, he holds you by the arms in front of him, his mouth set in a grave line. “You knew? That I’m… that I could…”

Shrugging, you laugh nervously. “I mean, I had a suspicion, but I didn’t know that you’re actually- holy shit. My best friend is actually Spider-Man.”

“No, no, no,” Peter puts his face in his hands, very clearly stressed. “This is bad. This is very, very bad.”

“Yes, it is,” you scowl, snapping out of your shock and remembering that he never told you. “You should be very scared for your life right now. Because trust me, Peter Parker, it’s a mystery as to why I haven’t killed you yet for not telling me you’re a freaking superhero!”

You smack his arm which probably does more harm to your hand than to him. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Do you realise,” he pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. “Just how much danger you’ve put yourself in by knowing I’m Spider-Man?”

“Peter, you don’t even realise how stupid you sound right now,” you shake your head, laughing without a trace of humour in your voice. “You are quite literally putting your life at risk every. Single. Day. And I had no idea! I can’t even imagine what I would do if you d-“

“Me?” Peter chuckles, incredulous. He groans, tugging on his hair in frustration before waving his arms around trying to get the words out. “Y/N. I can knock over 12 tonnes with a barely forceful poke of my finger. People are trying to kill me every. Single. Day. And failing. If they find out that the girl I’ve been in love with ever since I can remember even exists and is without superpowers?”

Peter cuts himself off, turning his back to you and standing deathly still.

“What did you say?” Your voice is hoarse when you ask this, not quite believing your ears. “The girl you’ve been in love with?”

“Forget I said that,” he mutters, still not looking at you.

As if.

“What about me, huh?” you demand, stepping around him to make him face you. “The guy I’ve been in love with my whole life is getting beat up every night by thugs with metal pipes and there’s nothing I can do to stop-“

“Stop talking,” Peter’s eyes flash and he webs the front of your shirt again. This time he pulls you impossibly close to him and presses his lips against yours feverishly. You make a noise of surprise in the back of your throat before reaching up on your tip toes and relaxing into the kiss, your hand snaking up into his hair. Peter’s lips move perfectly in sync with yours and you don’t know if it’s been seconds, minutes or days when you pull away for breath.

Resting your forehead against his own, you can’t stop the smile spreading on your face, mirroring Peter’s. He’s the first to speak, brushing his nose against yours. “You love me.”

“Yep,” you confirm, hand still playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “So just be glad those girls weren’t here staring at you again. Otherwise I would probably have gathered the force to knock over a few high school girls with a very forceful poke of my finger.”

“Noted,” Peter nods in mock seriousness. “You should also be glad those guys that usually skate here to impress you, aren’t here today either. Otherwise I would probably web ‘em in the face.”

“Eh,” you shrug. “You were always a better skater than them anyway. Probably to do with your superhuman abilities and all.”

“Hey, I take offence!”

“Kidding, kidding,” you laugh, grabbing your bag off the floor and holding Peter’s hand, leading him off the ramp. He doesn’t even try to hide the way he looks at you anymore and it kinda, sort of makes your insides melt. “So… can you swing me across the city now?”

“Absolutely not.”

© angelfic 2022.

[tripthelightfandomtastic]

Black Out - D.R.W

Author’s Note: I'm finally here to feed my Danny girls. You all have been waiting so patiently for me to write my first ever Danny smut story, he's just so intimidating to write and I didn't want to get this wrong. This is also the longest story I've written thus far so I hope I've delivered for you.

Synopsis: Danny Wagner has always been a pain in the ass, but what happens when the two of you find yourselves together after a night out?

Word Count: 10k (now that's more like it)

Pairing: Douchebag!Danny x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Foul language, alcohol, oral, spanking, choking, light degradation, dom!sub. (Wrap it before you tap your worst enemy)

Thank you all for your patience, I've been so busy lately its been hard to find the time to write but I'm proud of what I've put out here for y'all. I'll be getting back to requests soon in the order in which I got them, I just wanted to do something on my own to get my creative juices flowing again. Anyway, please let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list and what y'all think! Thank you, love you! ❤️

Black Out- D.R.W

You should have left hours ago, it was snowing like crazy out and you knew you probably shouldn’t be this fucked up either but, damn, whiskey runs way too smooth and work has been getting on your nerves. The party ended about twenty minutes ago, everyone now scrambling to figure out a safe way home. Classic Michigan. No ubers would risk this trip out, the snow was piling up fast and the snowplows wouldn’t make it this late. Time is of the essence and you really don’t want to stay at whoever's house this was, and if that means grabbing a ride with Danny then so be it. You would be lying if you said that you didn’t halfway beg Josh to take you home in his stupid jeep but he was already getting a ride himself because he had had too much to drink tonight. He only offered you a warm giggle and a tight hug, promising you he would text you as soon as he got home safe. Josh was a sweet mess when he was drunk, you wished you were able to be in whoever’s car was taking him home. Josh did do you one last favor before leaving, and that was flagging Danny down and asking him to take you home, remembering you two didn’t live far from each other. The visible look of annoyance on his face made you smile, a tantalizing opportunity to torture Danny, one of your many favorite past times.

“Why do I need to take her home?” Your head spins to watch Danny complain to Sam who is wrangling a pack of wild drunks of his own, as Josh practically waltzes out the front door with a couple of other drunk dudes and their very nervous designated driver. Sam is only half listening to his friend, he looks like he’s trying to corral three drunk girls together, trying desperately to keep them from running off back to the dying embers of the house party. “Her house is way closer to yours than everyone else I’m driving.” “Who did she come here with?” “One of the girls I’m taking in my already full car. Amber, no, no we are not taking the leftover jello shots in my car! Ugh, that doesn’t mean you should eat them now?!” Sam runs to chase after your friend Amber, pulling the other two drunk girls by the wrist like a single mother dealing with unruly children in a grocery store, you giggle to yourself as you pull on your coat and search for your purse, spinning in a circle only to find it’s already strapped to you.

“I’m sick of playing designated driver.” Danny whines as Jake leads an arguing drunk couple to the doorway, “It's getting bad out there dude, I’m sure it won’t take long, we gotta go while we can.” Jake opens the door, ushering the yelling couple out the door ahead of him, you saunter over to Danny, standing tall with his arms crossed. “Fine, but I’m not happy about having to drive her.” “Oh shut up, I’m a delight to be around.” You chime in, shoulder checking him on your way out the door. “Yeah a real fucking treasure.” Danny scoffs, rolling his eyes as he pulls his coat tighter to him before walking out to follow you.

Daniel Wagner is probably not your biggest fan, and you were not exactly his either. You can’t say when was the moment that solidified your status as enemies but for as long as you’ve known the Kiszka’s, you’ve known Danny. You both love the boys too much to give up hanging out as a group, even if that meant knowing the other would be wherever they were. You two get along civilly for the most part but pushing Danny’s buttons and vice versa, was a long standing game you two have been playing for years. You stumble through the snow along the grassy yard that was covered in the abandoned cars that belong to all of the party's drunk patrons who were finding other means of safe transportation. You fall into the thick powdery snow, landing in the cushion of the freshly fallen flurry with a drunken chuckle. “Come on.” Danny says flatly as he spins his keys on his fingers with an air of irritation. You roll over to your back and start making a snow angel, “It's freezing! Let’s go!” He shouts, his breath visible and floating into the night sky. “But if I get up I’ll ruin my snow angel!” You whine, Danny throws his head back with a groan, walking over to you as you sit up, he squats down and picks you up and holds you to his chest, his movement swift, unphasing his stride as he carries you away effortlessly, you never knew Danny was so strong? He faces the shape you had made of you in the snow, “Looks more like a snow demon to me.'' Danny quips, turning back to his intended path towards his car. “I thought it looked very nice.” You say simply, trying to ignore how muscular Danny’s arms feel around you, carrying you like a groom would carry his bride through the terrain of the snowy night. Finally you both reach the car, he reluctantly sets you back down on your feet just to fish out his keys and open your door, “Oh, Daniel, such a gentleman.” You tease as you slip inside the passenger seat, earning only a scoff and eye roll from your valet for the evening. 

Danny pops inside and turns the key, pressing every button that will warm up the car from this wintery hellscape. You wrap your arms across your chest as you try to preserve any heat you may have left in your body from escaping through your sweater and coat. Danny’s bluetooth is paired to the radio, an old Neil Diamond song playing through the speakers. “I don’t think I’ve heard this one.” You observe more to yourself than Danny, he gives you a quick glance, just peeling his eyes from the ice filled streets to give you a surprised “Hm.” You listen along, liking how oddly gospel-sounding it is, “It’s uh Holly Holy, I think it’s about the way the woman he loves makes him feel like she is akin to a spiritual awakening. How she makes him feel full with her love, like he could do anything.” Danny explains softly, trying his best not to sound corny. You just smile sweetly at the idea, the song is sweet and you can hear the meaning Danny mentioned plain as day in its melody, “I mean, I don’t know, it could be about LSD or something, that’s just what I think it sounds like to me, I don’t know.” Danny stammers out, “No I like it, I get that too. I think it's sweet.” You reassure, nodding along lazily to the beat, letting the song flow through you. Danny only lets a grin tug at the corner of his mouth as you continue your journey home. 

It was no exaggeration, the snow was falling fast and in droves, the white from the flurry made it hard to see when driving so you were practically praying to the girl Neil Diamond was singing about if she could get you through this storm. Only a few more minutes of fearful driving until you were finally pulling into your apartment complex’s parking lot. “Finally.” You sigh to yourself, feeling the edge of sobriety slowly creeping in, as you and your friends would describe it, you were about a seven, maybe a six and a half on a scale of one to ten, ten being the drunkest you could possibly think of being. Danny turns off the car and you snap your head to look at him, “You don’t have to walk me up ya know?” You offer, knowing how he didn’t want to be here in the first place, very aware that he probably doesn’t want to be here any longer than he has to. “No way, its fucking freezing out and I’ve seen enough Dateline episodes to know not to abandon a drunk friend alone in the middle of the night.” He explains, rebuttoning his coat. “Friend, huh?” You press, raising an eyebrow at his choice of phrasing. “If I said 'mortal enemy’ I don’t think I’d end up on the show.” He smirks, you just roll your eyes and chuckle as you open the door, the cold wind slamming into you, your clothes might as well be made of tissue paper the way it whips through you. 

You pull your coat closer to yourself, starting your well traveled path up to your apartment, Danny close to your side, his hair flying around his face. You nearly slip and fall on an iced over puddle on the sidewalk, sending you backwards into Danny, his firm chest and arms steadying you. “You that drunk?” Danny laughs out, “No, asshole, it's slippery!” You shout, your voice a little too dramatic from the embarrassment of Danny seeing you nearly eat shit on the concrete. “Come on, diva.” His voice is playful as he abruptly picks you up, tossing you easily over his shoulder, “Hey!” “I don’t think I trust you to make it up these stairs alive on your own, princess.” Danny mocks, his arms locked firmly around your waist and hips, keeping you still as his long flowing curls tickle your cheeks. “You’re a full service man aren’t you Dan? You drive drunks home, walk girls to their door, and carry them over your giant shoulders? You really are a gentleman!” You tease, calling out loudly. His large hand meets your ass with a spank, you yelp out in shock, “Stop shouting, you’ll wake the whole complex.” He quips back. You can’t help but blush, the position you’re in alone has your tipsy mind swimming, that sting of his slap sinfully makes you weak. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, like come on, this is Danny? Douchebag Dan? Maybe you were a bit higher on your drunk scale than you thought.

You finally make it up to your apartment door as Danny plops you down to your feet, you fumble the keys in the lock, finally swinging open to your warm and inviting abode. “Mind if I use your restroom before I head out?” Danny asks as you toss your keys on your entry table, “Sure.” You say, your hands working off your coat, toeing your boots off. You make your way into the kitchen and grab yourself a glass of water, chugging down the cold beverage like your life depended on it, which it did if you didn’t want to wake up tomorrow with a headache from all the sugary mixers you had tonight. Danny emerges from the bathroom making his way back towards you, he comes over and grabs the glass out of your hand, taking it and drinking the ice water. “Oh please, help yourself.” You sarcastically spout, crossing your arms with a furrowed brow as you glare up at him. He finishes off the glass and sets it on the counter beside him, “Well, I guess I should be off.” “You’re insufferable.” “I got you home didn’t I?” He shrugs smugly, you only let out a scoff, “Right. Yeah, thank you. I uh, I really appreciate it.” You say softly, looking up to his eyes, dark and curious. “Was that a genuine ‘thank you’?” Danny says with his brows lifted in utter surprise, “Yes, dickhead, it was.” You roll your eyes, leaning against your fridge. Danny makes his way closer to you, “Oh, don’t ruin it, I’m gonna revel in this moment.” He teases, his arm extends to the fridge door, propping himself against it, trapping you from leaving as he leans in, his head dipping next to your ear, “Say it again.” He whispers in your ear, his voice a hair deeper and raspier as he speaks, a wave of goosebumps travel down your neck, you only gaze up at him into his eyes, ‘fuck he’s tall’ you think to yourself, your lips parting as you look over his face. “Thank you.” Your own voice barely above a whisper as he smiles that oh so familiar shit-eating grin you’re so used to seeing. “That wasn’t so hard now was it, princess?” Danny says, his finger lifting your chin up to keep your eyes trained on him. The air feels thick, a tension building around you, the feeling of his hand on your chin makes your stomach flip with sweet excitement. 

Your eyes travel down to look at his lips, so soft looking, they’ve never seemed so soft before. Suddenly, everything goes black. The world goes silent. The power is out in the building. The slow ever present hum of electricity in the background whirs away until it's totally quiet. Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the dark, looking at Danny’s silhouette less than a foot away from you, he must have moved away to take in the situation. “Shit.” You whisper, “Looks like I’m not going anywhere for a while.” Danny says, standing up and pulling his phone from his back pocket, turning on his flashlight, “Why?” “Because if the power is out here, it's probably out at my place too. Might as well not be bored alone.” He theorizes, “Fair enough. I have a couple of candles around here somewhere.” You say heading back into the kitchen, opening up your pantry to find an unopened box of tea candles, “Got some of these after my power went out in a storm a year ago, it sucked having zero light for hours.” You explain, pulling out a box of matches. "How very doomsday prepper of you." Danny jokes as you split the candles up, walking around the apartment and lighting candles wherever you would need the most light, the living room, the bathroom and your bedroom. The atmosphere was alight with a warm glow, inviting and safe away from the snow storm just outside the window.

The two of you end up sat on the floor of your living room, facing each other awkwardly in the warmth of the candle light. “It feels like we’re about to do some sacrifice or something with all these candles.” Danny jokes, you chuckle as you take in the view around you, “It kind of does. Maybe I’ll see what I can get in return for your soul.”

“Like what?”

“Whatever it would be worth I guess, which would probably earn me a single McChicken from the dollar menu.”

“Ouch, you think it’d be that bad?”

“I like their McChickens.” You shrug as Danny shakes his head with a smile. You bring your knees up to your chin, your arms holding you close to yourself. “I’m bored.” You complain, your feet rocking back and forth from your place on the carpet. “You’re not tired?” Danny asks with genuine surprise, “No, not really.” You answer, “What do you wanna do?” He asks, as he leans back to rest against the couch from his place on the floor. The room is silent as you ponder the question, the warm candle light flickers, the shadows long and foreign looking on their places against the walls. You let out a giggle and shake your head at the thought. “What?” “Nothing. It’s stupid.” You shake your head again with a smile, “I’m sure it is, what is it?” Danny pries. You just roll your eyes, “Wanna play, would you rather?” You smile, tilting your head to the side, Danny laughs, “That is stupid. Fuck it, why not.” He smiles, he shifts from his cross-legged position to stretching out a leg, his arm resting on one knee he’s hiked up. He tilts his head up at you confidently, waiting for you to go first. “Okay, um, would you rather, only ever eat breakfast for dinner forever or eat dinner for breakfast forever?” You ask, “That is the most lame would you rather question ever.” “Just answer it, asshole.” You jab, Danny just lets his head fall back as he stares up at the ceiling and thinks for a moment, “I guess breakfast for dinner?” “Why?” “I gotta have a reason?” “Yeah, haven’t you ever played this before?” “Okay fine, I don’t know, you can eat all kinds of things for breakfast, sweet and savory stuff? I mean dinner would just be too harty, like you just woke up and now you gotta eat spaghetti?” Danny explains, his face twisted into a funny expression as he tries to justify his choice. You shrug your shoulders, “Fair enough. Okay, your turn.” 

Danny searches the ceiling, looking for a question to ask you, “Would you rather only be able to talk during the daytime or speak only when you are spoken to?” He says with a smirk, “Ooh that is a hard one.” You ponder aloud, “For you, I’m sure it is.” He says with a scoff, “Fuck off.” You spit, he has always been much more quiet than you, you and Josh probably get along so well because you two are always so talkative and you know it drives Danny up the wall. “I guess only during the day? I’d have to do way more during the daytime hours then but I think I’d go crazy if I had to wait until someone spoke to me first.” You explain, Danny only gives a small exhale of a laugh, “Yeah I bet you’d explode, I’d be in heaven though, enjoying the silence for once.” He smiles as he tucks his hands behind his head, closing his eyes and relaxing into his imagination. You huff in annoyance, you crawl over to him, grabbing a pillow from behind him. You get a firm grip on the throw pillow and smack him across the face with it, his eyes slam open at the impact, snapping him out of his fantasy world. “Too bad! You’re suck in this frozen hell with me.” You say sitting up on your knees, only lightly towering over him in his position against the couch. “And you said my question sucked.” You mumble to yourself, retreating back to your spot, sitting on your newly acquired weapon of a decorative pillow. “Okay then you come up with a better one then! No more college ice breaker questions.” You sit a moment, thinking of something salacious and interesting, Danny sits staring at you cooly, his chest puffed out as he waits to see what on earth you could come up with. 

“Alright, would you rather date someone who refuses to kiss you or someone who refuses to blow you? I bet these are real scenarios you’ve faced multiple times Danny boy.” You cross your arms, smiling proudly at your jab, letting him get a taste of his own medicine. He simply laughs at you, “I’ve actually never had a problem with either, women practically beg to suck my dick.” Danny smirks tilting his head like the cocky son of a bitch he is. “I highly doubt that.” “Why do I have to choose between these two? These fake people sound awful.” “Because it's a game Daniel.” You remind him, he moves to sit with his legs crossed, moving a bit closer to you and you silently pray the power comes back and Danny can get stuck in an avalanche on his way home. Danny groans as he twists his face up as he thinks of his answer, “I guess someone who won’t blow me wouldn’t be as awful as never being kissed? Like you at least need that in a relationship, right? We could always do other stuff?” He rationalizes, your eyebrows lift at his answer, a small, “Huh.” Passes your lips at his statement. The idea of Danny being so sentimental rather than obscene somewhat surprises you. “What?” He asks, not letting your comment slip without an explanation. “Just didn’t think about it like that.” You shrug, hoping he’ll drop it, but in very Danny fashion, he doesn’t. “I mean I can get off other ways, I just don’t think I’d be very happy in a relationship like that if they wouldn’t show me any affection like that.” He says, maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s just your constant need to be a contrarian to anything Danny says but you retort back, “I think I’d die if my boyfriend wouldn’t eat me out.” “Would you really choose that over never being kissed?” He asks curiously, leaning forward with interest. “Well after what you said, probably not but, fuck, some of the best orgasms I’ve ever had was from oral.” You smirk lazily, your mind drifting to the thought of a man buried between your legs. “Really?” Danny asks lowly, his voice incredibly soft as he asks you to say more. 

“I don’t think there is a better feeling than sitting on a man’s face.” You say seductively and smile confidently as you stare him down as confidently as he’s staring at you. Your answer hangs in the air for a moment, the two of you taking in the other in the dim light of the candles surrounding the room. You start to feel your heart beating faster as you think of how his dark eyes look at you, looking at you like a lion staring down his next meal. He tilts his head up at you before speaking, looking almost as though he’s about to call your bluff. 

“Would you rather have sex with your most recent ex or your worst enemy?” He asks smoothly. You let out a low chuckle, “Oh, Marcus? Yeah fuck no, the way we ended things really made me see his true colors.” You wince at the idea of even texting your ex, let alone to actually have sex with him again. Not that Marcus was bad in bed, he was fucking amazing, but knowing what you know now about how catty he was when things between you ended, he really turned into a childish prick. “Yeah he was kind of an asshole.” Danny agrees, reminiscing about the time he wouldn’t let you come and get your stuff from his apartment for a week just for a powertrip. The boys had your back throughout that whole break up, Marcus was incredibly controlling, you never really realized until after you broke up with him. You had to have the Kiszka boys and Danny come and help you move out, Josh even let you stay at his apartment until you found your own place.

“You’re not funny.” You say simply standing, Danny follows you and stands, his hand grabbing your wrist, “Oh come on princess it’s just a game. Don’t get all hurt-” “No, I see what you’re doing-” “And what’s that?” “You’re just trying to make fun of me!” You shout as you pull from Danny’s hold. “Why would I make fun of you?” “Because I want to fuck you!” Your voice rings out loudly, too loudly. The sound of your exclamation bouncing off the walls of your silent apartment. Your eyes wide as you realize your mistake, the silence feeling like a vice around your throat. “Oh.” Danny says softly, not knowing what to say. You can’t even look at him, you wish you could dissolve, evaporate into mist and float away. You stare at your socks, not sure what else to do, let alone say. Danny brings a hand up to your chin, lifting your eyes to meet his. You tense up at his forwardness, you fear he can see right through you and into your darkest thoughts, as if they were painted on your irises if he could only get close enough. “You would have been my answer too.” He speaks softly, his voice just above a whisper, his dark brown eyes searching yours. 

 “So who does that leave? You?” Danny simply shrugs, a small awaiting expression plays on his face as he listens for your answer. “I guess we are somewhat enemies.” He responds. “You called me your ‘mortal enemy’ in the car earlier.” “Then yeah, I guess me.” He smirks, your tough persona drops for a moment, your lips parting as you ponder the idea. You think about the way he had you backed up against your fridge, the way the air felt still and hot when he had you cornered, what you may have done if the power hadn’t gone out. You sit up straighter, almost nervous realizing you have to answer him. “You’re asking would I rather fuck my piece of shit ex or you?” You ask, feeling almost stupid but trying not to misunderstand. “I can’t be the worst choice in the world, can I?” He grins, you can feel a ball of nervousness play in your stomach, of course the choice here is easy but what would his reaction be? Would he hold this over you? Tell Sam all about it and tease you about it until the end of time? What would his choice be? “This game is stupid.” You shut down, choosing not to be humiliated. “How? It’s a fair question.” “It's a stupid question.” You push back, you realize Danny is only about a few feet away and you want him closer to- no he’s going to make you look like an idiot! It’s a trap, a fucking prank.

“I- you don’t, like- it’s not-this isn’t? It’s a part of the game? Like, we aren’t-” “Remember when I said you talk too much?” Danny interrupts, serious as can be, you only nod at his question. “Show me what you want.” He dares, his thumb running softly along your bottom lip. You watch his eyes follow the movement of his digit coasting slowly over your faded lipstick. You simply open your mouth, allowing him to slip his thumb inside your mouth, he places it on your tongue softly. You close your mouth around it, not venturing from his sight. You watch his reaction as his lips part, inhaling deeply at the feeling of the warm wetness of your mouth. You let your tongue run under his thumb, teasing him before opening your mouth again, his hand leaving your lips and taking you by the jaw. You two stare at each other in the golden glow of the candlelight against the pitch blackness of the snowy sky outside. He looks different to you now that you both understand the other's intentions, finally on the same side about something for once. His rich dark curls are cascaded around his face, the shadows from the light accentuating his cheekbones, the curve of his nose, the plumpness of his pink lips, the ones you were able to admire only for a moment before the two of you were plunged into darkness. Danny has always been attractive but at this moment, he looks absolutely divine. You take in his appearance one last time before swiftly, pulling him down to you by his sweater, letting your lips crash together in a kiss. 

You can’t help the way your heart is beating so loudly in your ears, this is a man that made you roll your eyes and walk away in high school, the guy that can push your buttons until you are red in the face, but now, with his lips melting against yours, you begin to realize, was this all that built up tension? His large hands hold your face firmly to feel you close, yet soft enough to feel the gentle skin of your cheeks under his palms. He opens his mouth slightly and you take the chance to slip your tongue along his bottom lip just before sliding your tongue into his mouth. You moan breathlessly into his mouth as his hands travel down your waist, landing at your hips and pulling you tightly to his front. You smile against his lips, “I thought this was would you rather, not truth or dare?” You giggle, the lingering alcohol making you a little more goofy than usual, Danny smirks and holds you firmly by the jaw, “Sure, let’s play, truth or dare?” His hand propping you up, forcing you to look into those dark brown eyes, made only more dramatic in this light. You smile defiantly at him, “Dare.” You simply say, not knowing just how the sound of that simple word rolling out of your throat was you hammering down the final nail in your coffin. Danny grins, he takes his time as he leans in to whisper into your ear, “I dare you to speak only when spoken to, to keep as quiet as you can.” His voice commands, the chills from his closeness, the warmth of his breath cascading down over your neck sends a delicious chill down your spine and an excitement that makes you grow warmer between your legs. He pulls away to gauge your answer, “That sound like something you want, princess?” His voice sounding so sweet even after asking for something so overtly kinky and sexual, the use of your once condescending nickname like this absolutely floods your underwear. He eyes you tenderly, searching for any doubt or discomfort, but he finds none. “Yes please.” You whisper, your voice faltering, betraying you with just how badly you want him.

“Oh and such good manners? Maybe you’re more obedient than you seem.” Danny says softly, his hands sliding up the hem of your sweater and resting on the skin of your waist beneath, warm hands radiating into your body. His voice is so gentle, speaking to you as though he was whispering to you in a room of perfect strangers, trying not to be heard by anyone other than just you. The way his eyes feel on your skin makes you want him to slam you against the wall and let him fuck you as hard and in anyway he deemed fit. But the way he’s touching you, fuck, you never want that to end. 

Your hands travel up his sweater clad chest, begging to feel what he's hiding underneath all the fabric. His large hands find your wrists, "Would you like to take this into your bedroom, princess?" He asks, his voice sweet, the tone makes your heart swell. You nod your head in a simple answer, he takes you by the hand and walks you to your room. It's much darker in here, the smaller space feels so much more intimate and cozy, the light from the candles make the room feel almost foreign to you, shaded in a way you've never seen it before. You stand before the edge of the bottom of your bed, looking to Danny for further instruction, "Strip." He commands simply, you only grin as you take your sweater off and over your head, your pants and socks following suit, leaving you only in your bra and panties. Danny's eyes rake over you, "I showed you mine, now show me yours." You break the tension with sarcasm, trying desperately to undo any of the nervousness in your gut. Danny only comes closer to you now, "What did I say about talking?" His dark eyes stare unto yours, dammit, how could you forget? "I forgot-" "You've never been the best listener in the world have you?" He interrupts, passing you to sit on the edge of the bed behind you. 

You look at him with a flare of annoyance but push back the urge to say something snarky, knowing whatever you just did may have its consequences, and consequences you'll have. "Come here." Danny beckons authoritatively, the words alone shouldn't have you reeling but here you are. You walk up to him, standing between his knees as he sits before you, even from your advantage of height from this position you still feel completely at his will. He takes your hand, pulling you over to him until he maneuvers you around and pulls you over his knees, your backside facing him, you gasp at the smoothness of his movements. His large hand runs gently over your plush ass cheek, your lace underwear not leaving much for the imagination but he runs his finger to your hip, snapping the thin material against your skin, the feeling making you slightly jolt. "Maybe you did forget," He smiles to himself as he brings his hand down swiftly, a smack cracking against your ass. You gasp and moan out, the surprise admission of your arousal makes you blush. You've never had a feeling like this before, such a beautiful mixture of pleasure in the pain. "But I'll help you remember." He soothes the stinging flesh with his hand. "I want you to count. Can you do that for me?" He asks, "Yes." You say, voice just above a whisper, shaking under his touch. 

"Tell me if it gets to be too much. Red is stop, yellow is slow, green is go. Okay?" Danny guides his hand down the back of your thigh and up your ass, the feeling of his hand across your skin makes you even more excited, "Yes, sir." You agree, "There's those sweet manners again." He says, a smile obviously present in his tone as he brings his hand down against your ass, a hiss passes through your teeth. "Too bad they're a little too late." He runs his hand over you again, "One." You say through your teeth, the sting energizing you, heat pulsing to your core. His hand comes down again, "T-Two." And again, "Three-e." And again. "F-." You yelp, the stinging in your muscle is almost too much to bear, you can't speak, the wetness is pooling in your panties. "Come on princess, tell me what color." His voice is soft and caring, his hands softly working over your stinging hot cheeks. You think it over for a second, just needing a moment in between. "Yellow." You whisper, taking in a breath. Danny's hands run sweetly over your ass and up to the swell of your lower back, leaning over to whisper in your ear, "You're doing so good. Such a sweet girl." His voice is tender, chills dancing up and down your back. 

"I can take it." You say, finding some resolve in your voice to keep it all together. "What color?" He asks patiently, "Green." You answer without hesitation. "Good girl." He smiles with a quick and final spank. "Five." You groan, your core is aching to be touched, Danny leans down, kissing softly on his red handprint he's most certainly left on your ass, the feeling of his lips on your burning skin feels deliciously cool. You let out a sigh from the feeling of his lips pressed to your burning skin. “You learned your lesson, sweet girl?” Danny whispers softly behind you, his hand running over the back of your thigh, dulled nails running gently up the back of your sensitive expanse of skin, teasing you as well as rewarding you. “Yes, sir.” You whisper back. “Good. Now we can really get to it.” His words make your heart jump into your throat, what on earth could he possibly do to top that? Just as easily as he laid you over his knees, he picks you up and tosses you on the bed, the look of cockiness and confidence on his face and the little bounce onto your own mattress makes your head swim, you cannot believe you are about to fuck Danny Wagner, screw worrying about ruining your friendship, you don’t even really have one, he just annoys you, pisses you off, and picks on you. Right? Then why does the idea of fucking him not bother you? You hate Danny. Right? Fuck. Maybe you don’t.

He pulls the sweater off and over his head, letting it fall to the ground, he climbs onto your bed, crawling over to be on top of you, the two of you taking a moment to just look at eachother like this. His arms are fucking crazy, you think to yourself unpoetically, the way his muscles just wind around his biceps, bulging and flexing as he shifts above you, his hair long as it cascades above you. His nose casts such a beautiful shadow, his eyes are softened, he looks almost like you’ve never seen him before, like you’re able to stare at him without whatever curtain there was blocking your view. He kisses you, this time it's soft, almost caring, like he’s telling you something without having to use his voice. Your hands find his hair, they roost comfortably in the tresses, tight against his scalp, the feeling of your hands on him like this makes you want him even more. He deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue in your mouth, he rests more on top of you, the feeling of his bare chest against you, the feeling of his tongue running against yours, feels so right. You pull at his hair, earning a low groan from him that only makes you need more of him. He ruts his hips involuntarily against your center, making you whine against his kiss. He smiles into the kiss, “You need more, don’t you princess?” His husky voice asks, “Please, Danny, please touch me.” The tone of your voice surprises even you the way you’re pleading with him. “No need to beg baby, I’ll give it to you.” He promises, his voice you can tell has an edge to it, he’s far from done with teasing you. Danny’s lips come to your neck, the feeling of his breath and tongue against your sensitive skin driving you wild, his tongue licks up the shell of your ear, “I can’t stop thinking about the way you said you loved sitting on someone's face.'' His voice melts like candle wax as he speaks into your ear, a moan escapes you from just his words and closeness to you. “I want to taste you, princess.” “Please.” Your own voice betraying you, it's been far too long since you’ve been this intimate with anyone, you’ve been practically climbing up the walls from how withdrawn you’ve been since you and Marcus broke up. The way Danny has you just like this without having really touched you is a testament to how in need you are, you worry that even the very first touch of his tongue will make you cum.

He pulls out of the kiss and looks to you, "Let me see what you look like riding mine.'' He smirks that ever present cocky smile and rolls over on his back next to you. You sit up and look at him, laying beautifully with his hair laid over your pillows, the last place you thought you'd ever find Danny, but he looks like he belongs here. Belongs under the candlelight, like it's the one place you could ever truly see him, like invisible ink under a black light, he is revealed to you. With him on display like this you let your eyes wander, the broad expanse of his chest, his abdomen that is rippling with muscle, his shoulders are wide and skin that looks so warm and inviting. Your core is dripping wet from all Danny's teasing, he puts his hands under his head, relaxed as you sit up before him, sitting on your knees. "Take it all off baby, gimme a show."

You give him a confident grin, letting your hands come to unclasp the back of your bra, you slowly work off the straps on either side, revealing your breasts to him, tossing the undergarment away. His eyes look to your chest, ogling your breasts and your waist, you take your time, taking away some of the power he’s held over you thus far, turning around so he can see your bareback and your lacy underwear adorning your ass, red hand print and all. He grins to himself at his handiwork, hoping you’ll think of him tomorrow when your ass stings when you sit down, remembering who the handprint on your skin belongs to. You bend over to slowly pull your already soaking wet panties down your legs, finally kicking them off and turning to look back at Danny, his eyes looking like he could set you on fire just from his stare. You give him a sweet smile as you crawl over his body, straddling his face, feeling just a tad self conscious, “Climb on, princess.” He rasps, his breath fanning over you, sending a shiver up your spine. You make your way higher up on his face and slowly sit down, trying not to rest all of your weight on him. His tongue immediately lays flat against you, a moan rolling out of your mouth, much louder than you anticipated, Danny chuckles against you from the volume of your moan. He begins a delicious assault on your clit, your legs begin to tremble as you attempt to hold your weight up above him. Your tries are in vain as Danny pulls you fully against his lips, his large hands gripping around your thighs, holding you to his face, keeping you from straining yourself, you ease into him, finally letting go and letting him take over. You relinquish your power, if you even had any to begin with, over to Danny, letting his hot tongue bury into you. You mewl above him, the feeling too good to hold back, you look down, his eyes are closed, completely blissed out and in beautiful concentration as he fucks you with his tongue. 

You try your best to keep some sort of composure, not allowing yourself to touch him, out of fear of hurting him or something but his tongue kitten licks at your core in just the perfect way that you can’t hold back anymore. Your hands go to his hair and you can’t help but pull at his long dark waves and rock your hips against him, his hands reach up your body, squeezing at your breasts, his thumbs running over your hardened nipples. You rock harder on his mouth, searching desperately for your orgasm, his tongue laps at you in such a way that you can’t keep your hips from bucking, his nose bumps against your clit and you let out a high pitched whine, “Oh fuuuck yes.” You cry out as you squeeze your eyes closed, trying to get to that sweet place of relief, when all of a sudden Danny completely stops, fuck. You whine from the loss of his tongue, you look down to him, he smiles up at you with a dark expression. “Feels too good baby? You know what happens when you break our rule.” He says, scolding you. “Please Danny, please I’m so close-” “Lay down.” He simply commands, his hand tapping you slightly on your thigh. Your legs feel like jello as you roll off of him, he unbuttons his pants, sliding them off his long legs, leaving him only in his briefs, his cock straining against his underwear. Danny comes to hold himself up above you, “Poor baby, so close to cumming and she had to go ahead and ruin it for herself.” His voice is like honey when he says such dirty things, you can only give him a look of pure anguish as he speaks, you squeeze your thighs together, relishing in the feeling of your own wetness and Danny’s saliva, you need more of him like your life depends on it. His eyes catch on to your movement, his hand takes hold of your jaw, cradling it gently yet firmly in his hand, “Don’t worry, I’m still gonna take care of you, even if you are acting like a little brat.” He smiles at you, you give him the biggest doe eyed look you can muster, silently begging him to hurry up and fuck you senseless. 

“You look so beautiful like this, so sweet.” His hand wanders from your face and travels down your face, sliding down your breasts, down past your stomach and finally between your thighs, your eyes never leaving his as his fingers slip through your folds and up against your clit, you let out a shaky sigh at his touch, he tilts his head as he watches your reaction intently, he pulls his fingers away and to his lips, tasting you, “You taste even sweeter.” His voice is gravelly and rough, so sexy and lude. His fingers come back between your thighs, his middle finger slowly stroking up and down over your clit, the feeling of his warm wet fingers make you practically shiver at his touch, “You like when I touch you like this, princess?” His voice like a snake slithering in your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body in a wave. “Yes, Danny.” Your voice quakes with desperation, “Please, please fuck me, I want you so bad.” You breathe, if he weren’t so close he probably wouldn’t have heard it. His fingers slide inside of you, so easily and sweetly from the way his mouth worked over you. You and Danny collectively sigh at the feeling, “Oh fuck, you feel so tight. You ready for me baby?” He asks tenderly as he looks you over, “Please.” You moan as he slowly pulls his fingers away. 

Danny pulls his briefs down, his erection springing up, his hand stroking himself slowly. Your eyes like a deer in the headlights at the beauty of his hardened cock, the motion of his hand over his already slick looking head makes your pussy throb. He’s big, probably the biggest you’ve ever been with, so full and long. You honestly could probably cum without even touching yourself at this point, just watching the melodic movement of his large hand, the veins on the tops of the skin of his hand turning you on more than it should as he moves up and down his hardened shaft. Danny smirks at your reaction, a low chuckle rolling up his throat brings you back to him, you close your mouth that you didn’t even realize was open until his eyes were on you. “Roll over, ass up.” Danny’s voice sends a heat to your cheeks, you give him one last glance before turning over. The warm still air feels like the electricity is back and flowing throughout the room, but you know that's only because of the energy between you and the dark curly haired man about to rail you into oblivion. 

You give him a bit of a show, getting on all fours and dipping forward until your chest lays against the sheets, swaying your ass gently, not being able to speak kills you but you wouldn't even know what to say besides, 'please fuck me, please put me in my place, please I wanna feel you.' But your motions and your dripping wet pussy say plenty without saying anything at all. "Such a pretty girl, see how good you are when you keep your mouth shut." His voice makes you red with both annoyance and pure eroticism, you never thought that hearing him say things like this to you would do so much to you. You protest silently, pushing your ass back against him, searching for his warmth. His hand comes down on your ass again, stinging more than it should from your previous spankings. You hold back a whine with your lip tucked between your teeth, "What's the rush, princess?" His hand rubs a soft circle over the stinging flesh, his other hand venturing down the center of your back and sliding down over your ass, his fingers running over your pussy, "I'll take good care of you." He breathes gently, you sigh at the feeling of his warm hand against your throbbing core, needing more of him and quick. His middle finger teases your clit, swirling the bud under the pad of his finger, you let out a moan and a shaking breath from the attention you've been craving, but as quickly as his hand appeared, it disappears, withdrawing it as he lines himself up to your entrance. 

He ruts himself up against the curve of your ass, you both sigh at the delightful feeling of some sort of physical affection. His length teases at your entrance, gathering the arousal from your center and wetting his tip, you damn near let out a cry of desperation, trying to hold it together until finally, he slides into you. The sound of your collective sigh as you both fall entranced by the feeling of the other. He feels so good, so fucking good, stretching you out in a way you haven’t felt before, his length was something you needed a moment to adjust to, and proving to be ever the gentleman, he allowed you such a moment. “Fuck.” You mutter under your breath, nearly voiceless as his presence inside you completely engulfs every space inside of your mind. His hips start up a slow pace, his hands holding you just tight enough to move you against him but enough for you to try and cement this feeling in your memory forever. “Feels so fucking tight, feels so good baby.” He groans, his hips picking up their rhythm as you find you both find your footing in the feeling of each other. His hands grip tighter on your hips, his cock slamming into you so deeply, reaching your cervix and running against your g-spot has you moaning, crumbling under him, the way his body feels against yours like he is so intune with you, hitting all the right spots. Your moans are falling out of you like he’s punching them out with his hips snapping against you, you turn your head as well as you can from your position against the pillows. His body is glimmering under the light of the candles, his beautifully dark hair swaying in time with him, his eyes hooded in pleasure. The look on his face is enough to pull a soft, “Danny,” from your lips. Why you said his name knowing you were told not to speak, well, you’re not even sure why, was it because this was all too crazy to be real? Was it that you could feel your heart swell from his soft and vulnerable expression as he buried himself inside you? Or was it because all of this was something you had only thought of in your darkest fantasies? That this hate fuck felt less like hate and more like years of pent up frustration and desire finally succumbing into a puddle of bliss, moans and candle light. 

You kept your eyes trained on him, the pain in your neck be damned, you weren’t going to miss this for the world. All of those nights around a Kiszka’s campfire, staring daggers at each other over the flames, all of the pointed comments, the little outbursts of annoyance seemed to build a wall not between you two, but around the both of you, pushing you closer and closer to each other until it brought you here, to this boiling point. Danny’s eyes find yours, a lazy smile out of pure ecstasy on his lips, even with him fucking you from behind like this, this moment of eye contact feels even more intimate. Your brows are knit from the feeling of the tension building inside of you, your mouth hanging open as you stare at him, feeling like he can almost see right through you. You have to tear your eyes away, fearing he can see straight into your soul. His hand finds its way to your hair, pulling you up on all fours, the feeling of his fist pulling you by your scalp making you moan, you retaliate and start to press back against him, fucking yourself on his length, letting Danny just ease back and letting you take over. “You’re such a fucking slut. Fucking yourself on me like this.” His voice falters, betraying him through his tough and domineering behavior. You giggle to yourself, loving the way you can make him react, you try and recreate the pace he had set, but moving backwards is too hard to keep up with the merciless metronome of his pelvis. Danny leans forward, his chest against you for a moment as his arms circle around you, pulling your whole body up, your back flushed against his chest, a low groan is pulled from your vocal chords in the change of position, his hard dick deeper inside you now.

“You’re so cute when you think you’re in control.” His voice is low, right against the shell of your ear, one arm wrapped against your chest, his hand grasping one of your breasts as his other hand is holding tight to your hip from his arm strapped across your belly, locking you in a perfect position of pure pleasure, but also a hold you couldn’t move from. You let your head lay back against his shoulder, letting go and letting him pound into you from this new angle. Your eyes practically roll back into your skull as you can feel him moving inside you, his tip brushing wonderfully against your g-spot makes you let out a long moan at the feeling. “So good for me, so good princess.” His throat vibrates against you, the feeling of it alone sends you through the roof in pleasure. These small things he does shouldn’t be affecting you so much but here you are, thinking about the way his voice sounds, the small puffs of breath falling from his pillowy lips and against your shoulder, the way his hair tickles your back, and the way his arm muscles look as they hold your body tight against his own. You look up to his face, acknowledging the perfect angle of his jaw line, the soft skin of his neck, you can’t resist, you lean forward with whatever room you have and lick up his neck and up to his ear lobe, letting a moan sing into his ear as you rest against him, looking at his face in profile, even prettier this close up. 

Danny looks down into your begging doe eyes, swiftly pulling himself out of you and spinning you around to lie on your back, him tossing you around like a rag doll makes your jaw drop. He hovers above you, lining himself back up and sliding inside you once more. His eyes seem to drink you in, looking over you like he never had before, he fills you back up, fully seated inside of you, you bite down on your lip, a routine you're growing too accustomed to, trying your best to keep quiet, wanting to cum so badly you don't risk letting anything slip without Danny’s permission. You whine under him as he thrusts into you, turning to quiet yourself in the solace of the pillows beside you, Danny moans at the sight, how you squirm and writhe beneath him. His hand comes down to your face, grabbing you by your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. “You can speak now baby, show me how fucking good you feel.” He sounds desperate, needing so badly to hear your voice you once thought he couldn’t stand. You let your bottom lip free from your teeth’s hold on it, letting your groans, curses and his name all fall freely from your lips. The two of you hold eye contact as he brings his thumb to your clit, rolling in tight circles making your back arch.

With his permission in your mind, you don't hold back, moans flowing forth, crying out in pure ecstasy, "You're cock feels so fucking good, so fucking big." You sob out, your voice coming out in shambles as his thrusts ramp up at the sound of your whines. "You're such a whore for this cock, always such a princess." His voice quaking from his hips snapping against yours, he lets himself come down closer to you, a proximity you find yourself hypnotized by. His eyes are golden brown, they’re beautiful the way they feel on you is like you can feel a bubbling energy in your chest, your hands come to hold him closer to you, feeling his back muscles rippling underneath your palms. His expression looks less boastful and cocky as he usually looks, instead he looks almost vulnerable? He looks more human like he’s holding onto the memory of your face underneath him, he looks less like a douchebag prick and more like prince charming. The knot in your lower stomach is becoming increasingly obvious, unable to hold back the white hot feeling of bursting at the seams any longer. “D-Danny, I’m so close.” You mewl, your legs wrapping around his hips, “Me too, I’m almost there.” His voice is addictive, the way he sounds like he’s slowly coming apart draws you nearer to paradise. “Please don’t stop.” You beg, your eyes fluttering closed as you fall into the feeling of his thumb running against your clit, never waning in its movements. A sudden pressure on your throat brings you back to him, “Look at me, I want you to look at me when you cum.” He demands, “Yes, sir.” You croak out as best as you can, the feeling of his hands on you in this way, controlling your pleasure, when you can cum and even controlling your flow of oxygen is so sexy it pulls you near the edge, just mere inches from falling into the abyss. He can feel the way your pussy tightens around him that you’re close, he brings up his speed double time, “I’m gonna, oh Danny-” Danny releases his hold over your windpipe,“Come on baby, cum for me.” His words and the rush of oxygen bringing on your climax, you do as you’re told and never let your eyes wander from Danny, you claw at him and cling to him for dear life as he continues to pound into you, chasing after his own high.

He watches intently as you writhe underneath him, he looks absolutely entranced by you, the way you look so lost in a perfect dream like state as you moan and whine, his mouth slack jawed as he gets lost in you, his thumb slowing on your clit to guide you through your orgasm without you falling through it and becoming overstimulated. Though it was his instruction not to look away from him, to look at him when you cum, you don’t think you could look away if you tried. His eyes are hazy with a beautiful fog of lust, you can’t stop the flow of his name rolling off of your tongue as the knot inside of you snaps, your ankles locking him against you, your nails clawing down his back is what finally does it. “Ah-ah, fuck.” He groans, you watch in equal awe as Danny’s brows knit in angelic bliss, completely dropping his hardened exterior as he cums, hard and deep inside you. He presses his forehead against yours, his husky voice like silk as he cries out your name, he holds you close, your hands finding purchase in his hair, pulling him down into the crook of your neck, needing him closer to you as you both fall to pieces in each other's embrace.

The labored breathing of the two of you as you come back to earth is what gets your mind turning, fuck, what have you done? This can’t be a mistake, like you thought before, what is there to lose? You don’t even like Danny, you’re not even friends?! Right? Then why does the thought of him getting up and leaving you tonight make you feel sick to your stomach? “So,” You start, bringing Danny back to you, his head popping up and looking almost meekly up at you, as though you just caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to. “Would you rather, we keep this a secret and never speak of this again,” You ask, looking for the rest of your courage to say what you have to say next. “Or spend the night with me and figure out what the fuck this all means?” You look to him as he rolls over next to you, his gaze fixated on the candlelight bouncing around the ceiling. He just lets out a content laugh, “I’m not an idiot-” “Well…” You jest, trying to break the tension as you let your head roll over to look at him, “I’m not a total idiot, is what I meant. I don’t think this was a one time thing, do you?” He asks, his answer surprising you, the bile in your stomach calming down now that you seem to be on the same page. “This was too…” You hesitate looking for the words to best describe your true feelings, even if you don’t totally understand them yourself, “Easy? I guess? I don’t know, I just, I didn’t think I… wanted this so badly.” You smile, hoping you make even a bit of sense. “Yeah, me neither.” Danny confesses wistfully, his eyes looking over your face, he looks so plush and soft, you scoot closer, inches from his lips now. “Maybe I don’t hate you as much as I thought I did.” You whisper against him, he smirks his hand pushing a strand of hair gently behind your ear, “Yeah, I don’t think I could hate you anymore. Not now that I know you’re not a total brat.” He says with a look in his eye that makes you blush. 

The lamp by your bedside turns on, the whirring and buzzing of the power in your building coming back to life, the dreamscape you had created with Danny now essentially dissolving away, bringing you both back to reality. “Looks like the power is back on.” You observe, “You’re not trapped here anymore, if you want to leave.” You say, worried what his answer may be. “I think we should get cleaned up, don’t want to sleep in dirty sheets, and I think we could both use a shower.” He says so casually it sets your heart at ease. You give him a smile, eyes lingering as he leans in and kisses you deeply, the feeling pushing away any doubts from your mind. So here you are, finding yourself staring back at your former nemesis, thinking of how you ever once hated a face that is so perfectly sittable.

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[honeyspiders10]

i saw your post about fluff with eddie and i gotta agree, there's so much smut and not enough fluff-

so to change that a bit, i would like to request gender neutral reader (who graduated) visiting Eddie at school during either lunch break or hellfire club meeting as a cute surprise (as eddie has been stressed out lately etc), and him just being SO happy that his partner visited him, and the reader visiting him much more often :>

Hi there!!!! I really like this idea!!! And also thanks so much for reading my fic..<3

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Gender: gender neutral!!

Pairing: eddie munson

Summary: eddie was having a stressful day at school so you come visit him during one of his hellfire campaigns :)

Not proofread!! Sorry for any mistake!! I was writing this while I was waiting for cinnamon rolls..and I'm pretty sure they're burnt now...I'll read this over when I eat my burnt rolls..

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Third person pov

Eddie was sitting at his and his friends lunch table, everyone was talking amongst themselves but eddie wasn't paying attention. "Hey man, you alright?" Gareth asked him, concern lacing his words. "Yeah dude, you've been pretty distant these past couple weeks." Jeff stated. "Uhm, yeah okay. I'm been busy with tests and shit, I guess I'm just kinda stressed." Eddie said never looking up from his notebook that he had notes written in it from English class. Eddie was currently falling behind in this class ever since his partner graduated last year. They were great at english, they love to write and read and stuff. Eddie does like to read and write but he doesn't like to do it at school.

(Time skip)

Y/n's pov

I got off early today at work. I thought it would he a good idea to go see eddie today, he's been stressed and I got him something to cheer him up!

I walked out of family video waving bye to Steve and Robin with a special something in my hand. I pulled my keys out of my pocket and fiddled with them to find my car keys. I gently placed the item for eddie in the seat next to me, then I jammed the keys into the ignition and drove to the school.

I entered the school with my item for him in hand, I made the journey from the front entrance to the closet were they do their d&d campaigns. I peeked through the glass window on the door, being careful to not let anyone see me. I saw eddie standing on his throne being the silly goober he is. Everyone around him laughing and blowing raspberries at him. These events brought a smile to my features. He doesn't seem as stressed anymore, but he still looks tired. I decided after spying on them for a couple minutes I should walk in. I opened the door and stepped in, putting my present for my freak behind my back.

Third person pov

At the sound of the door opening they all aimed their heads at the door, looking at who dared to interrupt their campaign. Eddie was very irritated at the disturbance, until he saw who it was. A smile, stretched from ear to ear made an appearance onto his face. He jumped out of his throne and practically ran over to y/n wrapping his arms around their neck/waist (depending on your height). You looked down/up at him smiling at his excitement. "What are you doing here, sweetheart?" Eddie questioned, tilting his head slightly like a puppy learning something for the first time. "I came to see you, baby. I know you've been a little  stressed lately, anytime you come visit you're always really tired and sad, so I wanted to surprise you! And I bought you something and I couldn't wait till tonight to give it to you." Y/n exclaimed. Eddie's features turned from happy to curious, he titled his head again, a smile never leaving his face. "Oh sweetheart! Thank you for coming.. now.... what did'ya get me?" He asked reaching for the bag behind your back, you moved the bag out of his reach earning a soft whine from the man in front of you. "Come on, n/n! Let me have it!" You backed away, a playful smile finding a place on your lips. "No I don't think I will." y/n uttered, moving the bag that eddie just tried to pounce. You and eddie continued what looked like a weird dance to the others for a couple minutes before eddie gave up with a half laugh half groan. "Okay, okay! I give!" He said said, giving you a pout, a very overdramatic one at that. His bottom lip was jutted out a little to far and his doe eyes were bigger than normal if that was possible. Laughing you said, "okay big boy, I'll give you your present. C'mere and get it before I change my minnndddd.." exaggerating the last word, and waving the present in front of you. He walked over to you and reached for the present. You pulled the present back and leaned down/up and planted a soft kiss on his lips, you mumbled against his lips, "of course, you had to give me some form of payment, big boy." You uttered against his lips. Eddie was blushing, even his ears were a shade of pink. He smiled and brushed your noses together, earning a giggle from you and a "blaugh!" From the others behind you. Eddie flipped them the bird, and them proceeded to grab the present you handed him.

He opened the gift a smile still gracing his lips. He pulled out a cassette tape, and a vinyl. The cassette tape was a black sabbath song, you new eddie was having a hard time finding it, so when it arrived at family video, you snatched it before anyone else could. "I- this is the newest black sabbath song!! Where did you find this?!?" He exclaimed, practically jumping up and down out of excitement. A chuckle escaped your lips, "I was doing my restocks and found it." Y/n stated. Eddie nodded and continued looking at his new cassette. Next, he looked at the vinyl. It was a limited edition Ozzy Osbourne album. The vinyl, instead of being black, it was red with bats on it. Eddie was crying in excitement. No one has ever given him stuff like this. This album ran for 150 dollars in any store he's been to looking for it. He felt a little guilty. "I-babe. This vinyl was so expensive. That's why I haven't bought it. You didn't have to spend so much money on me.." Eddie said, rubbing his eyes trying not to cry. He felt so loved, it felt nice. Y/n ran to him, wrapping their arms around him. "Hey, don't cry."- y/n said bringing a hand up to wipe a stray happy tear from his beautiful face. "Its okay, eddie. I found both at family video and i know how much you love their music. You've been looking for both and I couldn't just not get them for you. I didn't spend that much money, I know that's what you're worrying about. I get an employee discount so it was just a little over 80 bucks. No need to cry over this baby. I love you." Y/n stated, in a soft tone, while rubbing Eddie's cheek with their thumb. Eddie smiled big at them, leaning into their touch. He loved his presents so much, but not as much as he loved you. He hopes you'll come visit him again more often now. It really helped him.

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Thanks for reading!! Hope you enjoyed!! Toodles!!

Make sure to go check out my bestie!! @boo5670!!!

[krystal-sylph]

A Cozy Night | Brian x F. Reader

I drew inspiration for this from a piece of fan-art that ♠️ Embrace Ace ♠️ made a while back (I tried to incorporate the link, but I couldn’t find it on their profile anymore). Anyway, it was an adorable picture that showcased Brian, Tim, Alex, Jay, and Jessica sitting around a campfire in the woods as Alex told them all a story - the story of Marble Hornets.  So it was basically an AU that implied the entirety of the series was nothing more than a spooky story Alex made up to keep his friends entertained while they were outside spending time together. I loved how creative it was and just had to make it into a one-shot.

If I made some mistake and credited the wrong person, I apologize! I had first seen the image months ago (and actually wrote this right after lol, but on my Quotev account instead of Tumblr), and I had written down the original artist’s name so I wouldn’t forget. Maybe they deleted it, for some reason? Idk haha. But yeah enjoy reading! Brian’s beautiful and I’ll always be soft for him ^^

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“...And as Tim continued driving down the empty highway, he stared into the camera one final time. If one looked closely enough, they may have been able to see his eyes becoming glossy as the tears welled up. He released a shaky breath - one of relief or one of disquietude, we may never know - and spun the camera around, allowing the viewers to face the road when the car made a turn into nowhere. A moment later, the screen turned black, and there, fading across it in that familiar white font, were the words, ‘everything is fine’...”

Alex met the eyes of his five friends as the story, at last, came to a close, observing their mixed expressions. Some were eagerly looking on in anticipation, others didn’t seem nearly as interested but it was clear he still held their attention. After a few seconds of heavy silence, Y\n leaned forward and whispered, “...Is that it?”

Alex merely gave a small grin before standing to his feet and stretching his limbs out, as they had all been sitting on their respective logs, huddled around the warm fire for the past five and a half hours. Jay’s eyes widened at the implication and he restlessly tugged at his hat, making it obvious to everyone that he wasn’t satisfied. “But–but Alex, dude, you can’t leave us hanging like that! What happened to Tim and Jessica? Did anyone ever find Y\n again? You gotta tell us!”

“Sorry man, but my voice is shot for the night,” he replied, brushing the back of his pants off. “I’m ready to hit the sack.”

“But Alex…!” Jessica whined, clasping her hands together and giving him the classic “puppy-dog eyes”, to which he rose a brow. “I’m gonna be awake the whole night if I don’t know this stuff!”

“It’s up to interpretation.”

“No, but really! Did Tim actually escape from the Operator? You stopped on such an eerie note!” Alex didn’t say anything else as he turned and began making his way into his tent. Y\n smirked slightly at their persistent attitudes and raked her fingers through her hair.

“Say what you guys want, but I for one think it’s the perfect ending to an already great story.” She glanced over at Brian, who had been sitting beside her the majority of the time to see what he thought, receiving a dimpled smile and a nod.

“I agree.” Jessica crossed her arms incredulously. “Not every story has to have a dead-set ending to it. Sometimes, it’s better left up to the imagination.”

“Yeah, maybe for y’all, but I can’t just do that. ‘Imagining’ an ending gives me way too much anxiety.”

“Meh.” Jay shrugged and scratched at his arm. “I just like knowing what happened if I’m being honest. Maybe that stems from my being impatient…”

“Tim! What about you?” The male in question lifted his gaze briefly to acknowledge her before rising up and shaking his head in refusal.

“You aren’t dragging me into this weird little debate. I just wanna go to bed.” He brushed past the two that were already standing and rubbed the back of his neck, presumably because it was sore from the extended lack of movement. “Goodnight.”

The small group watched as he disappeared behind the cloth wall of his own tent; the only shelter that was intentinally set up away from the other ones. No one minded it though, considering Tim just liked the solitude. Jessica broke the short silence with a displeased huff. “Well, whatever. I’ll just write my own ending. C’mon Jay, you can help me so I won’t overwhelm myself.” Grabbing his hand, she hauled them in the direction of her tent while Jay sputtered out poorly-crafted sentences in agreement or objection, nobody could be sure. “Goodnight, guys! See you tomorrow.”

Y\n waved and bit back the giggle she felt tempted to release when Jay nearly tripped over a stray tree root, giving her yet another reminder as to why she needed to watch exactly where she was headed at all times, especially at night. She for sure didn’t want to stumble on something and break her nose - not only would it be embarrassing, but it would put a damper on the rest of the trip, and maybe end it altogether. That wouldn’t have been a preferred outcome for anyone involved.

Once the tent was zipped completely up, all was quiet. The only sound that could be heard was the soft crackling of the fire and occasional, distant cries of the coyotes coupled with the chirping of cicadas. This was one of the many reasons that she loved to camp, and it only made the experience more enjoyable to have some of her best friends to share it with. She could tell that they were all having a relatively good time, even if ones like Tim wanted to complain about bug bites and mud. It was a relationship-strengthening activity that any number of people could do together, and that’s what made it so fun.

Now, only Y\n and Brian remained sitting outside, the lustrous glow that the fire emitted crawling across their faces as they both stared at it, serenity filling the atmosphere between them. “So…how do you think the story ends?” Brian suddenly spoke up after a couple of minutes, brown eyes not leaving the orange flames rippling in front of him. Y\n shifted her position a bit in an effort to get more comfortable and replied in a mellow voice.

“...I like to think that everyone that wasn’t outright said to have died turned out alright…especially cause, they deserved a happy conclusion. But I don’t know really.” She tilted her head up to look at him curiously. “You?”

He considered her opinion as the corners of his lips tugged upward, soon providing his own. “I’m an optimist, so I like your theory. But realistically speaking, Tim - story ‘Tim’, that is - likely went somewhere that he’d be alone and killed himself cause he couldn’t take the agony of losing his friends. And Jessica got sucked into the Operator’s clutches all over again. As for Y\n…” He sent her a cheeky grin, “she totally survived everything against all odds because she’s just that awesome.”

She rolled her eyes and playfully nudged him with her arm. “Uh-huh, sure.” Releasing a gentle laugh, Brian leaned back a little, using his hands to support his body weight so he wouldn’t tumble backward off of the log. They relished each other’s company, enjoying being one with nature in the most peaceful of ways. Without warning, Y\n allowed her head to rest on top of his shoulder and her eyes grew droopy. “It’s pretty, huh?”

“Beautiful.” He welcomed the physical gesture and wrapped his arm around her smaller frame, giving her the opportunity to snuggle closer. “We should do this more often.”

“Hm, I thought you’d like it.” She pulled at her jacket, hoping it would do a better job at conserving heat, as it was getting chillier the more the night progressed. “This is actually the first time I’ve camped out with anyone but my family.”

“That so?”

“I guess nobody else just wanted to be this far away from civilization. They were scared or somethin’.” He released a hum of understanding. “I don’t get that sentiment, though. I think it’s relaxing.”

“To be fair, not everybody grew up in a family that took frequent trips like this. I’m sure the idea of being miles away from any help in case something were to go wrong, or being hunted by some big predator lurking in the woods unsettled them.”

“Pfft, that’s amateur stuff.” She flinched when he poked her side and gave a chuckle.

“The point still stands.” They spent a total of fifteen more minutes sitting side-by-side, not quite ready to say ‘goodbye’ to each other’s presence on such a nice night. But alas, the lethargy was weighing down on both slowly, though Y\n was the first to show it with a squeaky yawn. Brian laughed and bent over to catch sight of her tired face. “You wanna go to bed?”

She was quick to deny the question. “No, no, I’m fine. Let’s just stay here a little while longer…” Her mildly slurred words were all the confirmation he needed, and he brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek.

“Y\n, you need to sleep. We’re going hiking tomorrow, remember? You can’t do that on zero energy.”

“I’ll…be okay.” Her eyes were almost completely closed, making it clear that she was content to just stay where they were sitting together, but Brian pushed her away gently so he could rise to his feet, then he took her hands and helped her up, much to her protest. “Brian…”

“Y\n…” he replied with the same querulous tone, prompting her to shoot him a half-hearted glare, and he smiled, giving her a good view of the gap between his front teeth. “We’re both tired. I’m sure you’ll konk out as soon as your head hits the pillow.”

She used the tip of her shoe to drag at the dirt and finally muttered a reluctant, “fine…” and Brian tousled her hair in amusement.

“Good. You can go wait for me in the tent while I smother out the fire.”

She did just that, taking off her shoes and instantly collapsing onto her sleeping bag. She had insisted that she and Brian share a tent as soon as he agreed to go camping with her with the claim that “it would be less baggage” and that it would be a way to stay warmer at night when it got cold, but she knew he probably suspected the real reason was simply that she wanted to be close to him as often as she could.

She knew that the fire was gone when the majority of the light leaking into the space vanished, and this was further backed up when Brian revealed himself and zipped up the entrance behind him, capturing the pair in pleasant darkness. She saw his silhouette lay down on top of his own thin bed and grinned to herself. He appeared to still be adjusting to get cozier, and she curled up into a loose ball, feeling safe. “...’Night, ‘Hoody’.”

He turned his head to glimpse down at her as he processed the reference before snorting and flopping onto his back. “‘Night, N\n.”

[jeongvision]

jaehyun, parent!au; “What are you doing right now?” 🥺🥺

pairing. husband! jeong jaehyun ✗ fem! reader

genre. fluff, parent au, domestic au

warnings. not proofread

author’s note. hello! hope you enjoy this! this is a little rusty bc it’s been a while since i have written something i’m a sucker for parent au’s askfjskak

Jaehyun is not one to care about his status or ranking. He’s someone that you could describe to be easy going, very laxed so to say. However, that doesn’t mean that he is willing to let his opponent beat him so easily. Oh no, that’s far from the truth.

“3...”

The number on the screen counts down, each passing millimeter accelerating his heart rate. His eyebrows are furrowed, eyes fully concentrated, body locked and loaded in readiness.

“2...”

His palms sweat a little, pupils dilated as his sympathetic nerves start to kick into his system. His opponent beside him lets out a soft giggle, taunting him after noticing the tension laced in his muscles and veins on his forearms.

“1...”

His thumb immediately presses down with pressure, allowing him a guaranteed head start against his opponent. He wouldn’t dare miss any opportunity he gets to seize his victory. One fatal flaw in his plan could cost his victory, and that’s the last thing he wants to happen. He will not lose, and he will do whatever it takes to make sure of that.

“Go!”

The moment the Shy Guy floating on a cloud draws its flag down on his TV screen, his Yoshi speeds past all his opponents with its go-kart, almost instantaneously gaining him first place at the start of the race.

“Yes!” he hissed under his breath.

His son next to him, Minho, lets out an adorable laugh. He lets out squeals and giggles all throughout the match, his body moving in unison along with his Toad character as he navigates through the track. He drives through an item box, his power-up shuffling through his options. Although he was in last place, his face lit up with joy as he obtained a blue Koopa shell, allowing him to use against his father that’s still in first place.

Jaehyun sneaks a glance at his son’s screen and, oh no. Oh no. He gulped, chuckling nervously as he crafts his words cautiously to the latter.

“Mi-Minho…”

His son giggles, too mischievous for Jaehyun’s taste. “Yes, daddy?”

“You know that daddy loves you very much, right?”

“Mhm.”

“So… you’re not going to use the blue shell on daddy, right?” He chuckled uneasily again. “That wouldn’t be nice, right, Minho? You love daddy too, right?”

Minho hums, lips pursed into a tiny pout that’s too adorable to ignore. “Yeah, but daddy?”

“Yes, Minho?”

“Remember the other day, you used a blue shell on Mommy?”

Jaehyun’s face drops. How does he remember that?

His son giggles again. “Like mommy always say, karma is a—”

“I’m home!”

The sound of your voice broke Jaehyun’s reverie, attention lost as it was momentarily focused on you walking through the front door. Because of that, a CPU Bowser was able to speed past his Yoshi just seconds before the finish line, gaining himself second place. However, he paid no attention to his character, not even over the fact that his undefeated streak had finally been broken, for he had his eyes set on the prize in front of him.

You beamed at your two favorite boys, happy to be back home where your heart resides. “What are you doing right now? Did you guys eat yet?” you asked. You looked up at the clock stationed on your wall: 3:50pm. “I saw that there’s a new ice cream place across from the market. You boys want some?”

After Minho’s character reaches the finish line, he drops his controller down and runs up to your legs, arms wrapped around them. “Mommy! Daddy lost! He got into second place.”

One eyebrow raised, you looked at the TV screen to find that your little one was in fact telling the truth, making you gauge your eyes in shock. “Really? Daddy didn’t win in Mario Kart this time?” You couldn’t help but laugh. It’s very rare for Jaehyun to lose at a game due to his competitive nature. What a sight it is to see after your work shift.

Jaehyun drops his controller to where his son sat earlier and stands up before you. He shrugs his shoulders as he places a kiss on your lips.

“I decided that it was time for a change. Gotta humble myself once in a while, you know?”

“Honey, we both know that’s a lie.”

You and your son let out a laugh while your husband pouted. You kissed the tip of his nose in response. “I’m kidding, baby. If anything, you will always be number one in my heart.”

“Hey! What about me, mommy?” your son calls out. You looked at your little one, slightly thrown off by his interjection. Now it was his time to pout, mirroring his father’s expression. “Am I not your favorite, mommy?”

“Beat it, kid. She was mine first,” Jaehyun commented.

You gawked at the latter and slapped his arm.

“Jaehyun!”

He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s true, though.”

“I should’ve used the blue shell on you, daddy.”

jeongvision’s milestone event!

[hansensgirl]

salvatore. | vii.

summary. | Bucky Barnes doesn’t believe in love anymore. Especially after the tragic, unknown death of his wife, Natasha. He thinks it’s stupid and a waste of time and- oh my. Hello there, you. There you were, with your notebooks and your novels, writing your heart away. He’s hellbent on saving you from this nasty world, his elusive neighbor that has him under the stupid spell of love. You soon find yourself trapped in a tragic love story with Bluebeard, not Prince Charming.

warnings. | NONCON/DUBCON, dark themes, manipulation, gaslighting, arguments, toxic relationships (reader and steve), cheating, nightmares, violence, mentions of death/murder, spying, voyeurism, stalking, use of cameras, angst, fluff, dark!bucky, protectiveness, obsessiveness, creepy bucky, perversion, kidnapping, choking (not the kinky kind), passing out, suffocation, and more. 18+, MINORS DNI.

word count. | 3.4k

pairings. | Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Steve Rogers.

a/n. | we’re nearing the end!! please read all the warnings before you click the ‘keep reading’ button! don’t forget to enjoy and don’t forget to reblog! salvatore masterlist.

“I’ll be back before you know it, doll, don’t worry. I’ll call you and text you nonstop, okay?” Bucky reassured, pecking your lips between each word of his. You pulled further away from him and laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Where are you going, again?” you asked, hating yourself for forgetting so easily. It was almost like he never even told you. “That bachelor party, remember? For my friend Sam?” he repeated, almost as if he had told you billions of times before.

Truth be told, you didn’t remember.

“Oh, that’s right! Okay, baby, have a good trip and stay safe. Tell your friend Sam I said congratulations––wait, you have a friend named Sam?” you questioned, not knowing of this friend. You may have been quite forgetful but you didn’t recall him speaking of any friend by the name of Sam. “Yep, but I don’t talk about him too much,” Bucky informed, and you tilted your head. You opened your mouth to ask him another question, but he checked the time on his wrist before sharply inhaling.

“Gotta go now, doll, don’t want to be too late,” he told you, kissing you once more. “Love you, bye!” he shouted as he closed the door behind him. “Bye!” you called back, and you were left all by yourself in his home. He already gave you a tour a week ago, the day after he spoke to you about your nightmare. You never slept after that, but it wasn’t shocking. That kiss was everything you could’ve ever dreamt of.

You felt like Sleeping Beauty, finally getting that kiss from Prince Charming that you needed so badly. You sighed with a half-smile on your face, and you could already feel boredom settling into your bones. With Bucky, every second of the day was filled with fun. Whether it be through stupid conversations or through needless movie commentary. You hadn’t written in all that time, and it was just a tad bit upsetting for you.

Your notebook was untouched, and so was your nice fountain pen along with your computer. It wasn’t like you had writer’s block, and it wasn’t like you had no motivation to finish your first chapter… No, wait, it was exactly like that. Every time you thought of your story, you’d have to stifle a loud, loud groan that would be savoured for when you stub your toe or when you’d accidentally burn your hand on the stove.

You didn’t resent your story. It just felt like a burden at that point in your life. But with nothing else to do other than writing, you felt oh so pained. Not physical pain, no, just the kind that would be a burden. You were sure that the floorboards were tired of feeling your feet stomp on them throughout most days. Sometimes, you’d sit on the stairs and hum to yourself—some sort of random rhythm that you would then mess up and forget about.

“What to do, what to do, what to do…” you whispered to yourself, hooking your thumbs through the loops of your jeans. If it weren’t for Bucky and his easily distracted behaviour, you could’ve had a belt there. But mistakes were made, and even though you offered to help, you officially knew then that Bucky never wanted you in his basement. Not in the past, not in the present, and definitely not in the future.

You joked around, saying that he just has dead bodies buried behind the shelves that were covered in cobwebs. But his forced chuckle had you apologizing quickly, and he told you to go drink some water and throw out your energy drink. You did exactly that, and he was back to his happy self. Spewing stupid puns like hilarity was his college major, with a big silly grin on his face.

Steve was always stoic, so maybe that was why you weren’t used to the almost overwhelming (yet lovely) company of Bucky.

Though Bucky spoke most hours of the day, you never heard of this man named ‘Sam.’ You had hung onto every single word of Bucky’s whenever he spoke to you. Even if he was repeating himself most of the time, you still made sure to listen to everything. He had never spoken about his friend to you, ever. As a matter of fact, you didn’t know much about him personally. You knew bits and pieces about his life as a soldier, but you didn’t know anything else.

He had no family pictures, no childhood stories, no generation-old recipes, nothing. Absolutely nothing. It weirded you out because he knew every bit about you. Even things that you’d never tell your mother, even if you had to. You didn’t even know about any past girlfriends of his… Except for one. He’d call her by the name of ‘Natalia’ but only when cursing or spewing out on the grave swears that could have someone rolling even if they didn’t decay yet.

Only a man with something to hide wouldn’t tell you anything about him, right? Because that was what Steve did, and he had one too many things hidden from you.

You spun around, making a full beeline for the stairs that didn’t creak under your feet (unlike your staircase). You envied Bucky for that, but you also envied him for more practical, more reasonable things. Such as the way he just couldn’t fall for pranks easily or the way he’d get something right almost all the time. You gripped the railing tightly, careful not to fall as you were climbing up the steps as quickly as you could.

Cardio wasn’t really your thing, not then, at least. You preferred simple stretches and long walks. Maybe the occasional weight lifting, but your little coloured dumbbells never did much. You were faced with the first bedroom at the top of the stairs. It was a guest bedroom, and he told you that it was pointless to go inside and clean it. At the time, it made sense. But maybe he was just trying to avoid having you go in there and see something you shouldn’t have seen.

You exhaled shakily and pushed the door open. You were met with a gust of cool air only because the window was left open. Bucky did that a lot, only because his home would become predominantly more humid than usual. You didn’t search the drawers or anything else in that room as well as the other guest bedrooms because you knew you’d find nothing in there.

There was only one bedroom left to check, the one that you and Bucky shared. It was a work in progress. Not in the sense that you were renovating or something along those lines. It was a bit… bland, to say the least. Not one piece of that room felt like home. You asked Bucky if he had any mementos or paintings to keep, but he shook his head and walked out. He wasn’t a very personal man, and it had more flaws than perfections.

You turned the doorknob and walked inside, taking in the notes of that vanilla body spray that Bucky loved so much and the lingering scent of his aftershave. You went to his bed and lifted the fluffy mattress up. Nothing. You gently placed it back down, hoping that your muscles wouldn’t give out. You opened up some of the bedside drawers, and you even peaked underneath them. Nothing. You let out a groan that was also a sigh of relief.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to find something bad or if you wanted to find nothing at all.

You slowly brought yourself up to your feet. You strode a few steps over to the closet and slid the mirror door to the other side. Half of the closet was filled with your clothes, and the other half was filled with his clothes. He had more leather jackets and sweaters than anything. Steve had the opposite of that problem. The blond hero loved his white tank tops and his white t-shirts. The dryer would constantly shrink them, and you could never complain about that.

Neither could Natasha.

You ran your hands between all the pockets and fabric in your closet, but you didn’t find anything. You snapped your hands back, bringing some hangers down to the ground. “Fuck,” you gritted out, looking down at the mess. You wordlessly kept staring at it, all while flailing your arm around to find the door. You grabbed it and slid it close. You had more pressing matters to deal with.

You didn’t check the dresser because you’d know if Bucky ever touched it. Your next best bet was to check the bathroom, even if it might’ve been fruitless. You searched the cupboards underneath and above the sink. Still, you only found freshly purchased products that you would find yourself stocking up on at least once a month—pads, tampons, shampoo, conditioner, razors, and everything else you needed, not him. Nothing there belonged to Bucky.

You once again didn’t know whether you should be elated or frustrated.

You dragged yourself out of the bathroom and out of the bedroom. You wore a pout on your face, resembling a little spoiled kid in a candy shop. In the hallway, you were at a crossroads. “Goddammit,” you groaned, squeezing your hands into fists. You walked down the stairs, not even bothering to hold onto the railing or the wall. You always loved to run your hand against the wall, especially when you were descending down the stairs.

You knew that he was too smart to hide anything in the living room and the kitchen. You felt like you were losing your mind. Even though you couldn’t find anything, you knew Bucky was hiding something from you. It was the same gut feeling that you had when you were with Steve. You listened to it, and you were right. Therefore, you believed that you were right about Bucky being secretive.

You stood at the bottom of the stairs, with your hands on your hips and your bottom lip between your teeth. You didn’t know where else to check. The garden seemed idiotic, and none of Bucky’s floorboards creaked in a peculiar manner. No can or jar in his cabinets looked off, and his shelves didn’t seem like they could move. His stack of books about the human mind didn’t seem fake either.

You spun in a circle, and so did your mind. Everything merged into a colourful blur, and you nearly missed the large splash of white that suddenly intruded into your vision. You stopped moving and looked over just to see the door to the basement. The door was never opened, even when Bucky was downstairs doing the laundry. You smiled to yourself. It was perfect, and it made so much sense for him to hide something in there.

The airport was loud. Families and couples yelling at each other and the sound of suitcase wheels against the floor. A lovely voice came on the intercom, announcing a flight that was departing. From New York to some city in Arizona. In Bucky's hands were his passport, his ticket, and his backpack. Bucky wasn’t sitting in one of those enormously uncomfortable chairs that everyone else was.

He was meters away from the waiting area, contemplating whether the trip was a good idea or not. He didn’t need to be plagued with guilt by what happened to Natalia. He was doing much better now that she was gone. The gothic house probably needed to be cleared of cobwebs and creepy crawlers, but he could’ve just hired someone for that. The only reason why he was contemplating his trip was because of you.

You seemed to eat up every lie he spewed since he met you, but you didn’t appear to buy his cover-up for the flight. Bucky never felt bad about lying to you because you needed to be protected. You were bawling in your bedroom about your job, taking insults from your mother and getting carelessly drunk with a stranger just before he thoroughly swept in on his white horse. You needed him; you always did.

Bucky knew that you’d let your paranoia and suspicions get the best of you. He was glad you allowed that to happen with Steve, but he wasn’t going to let it fly when it came down to himself. “Fuck,” he grumbled before turning on his heels and making his way out of the area and out of the airport. He had to protect you from the harsh truth, only because he’s your knight in shining armour.

You didn’t grab ahold of the railing because it was made of wood. Splinters were the worst; you simply just loathed them like anybody else. You placed your hand against the wall for support and tried your hardest to not make too much noise. Basements always gave you the creeps. The air in the room was thick and heavy, week-old vapour stuck in there, and you wondered how the wood hadn’t begun to rot yet.

Your fingers clashed with what seemed to feel like a light switch. You were at the bottom of the stairs, an old carpet resting beneath your feet to protect you from the cold floor. Your nose was filled with the scent of different detergents and softeners that Bucky would use. Against the wall were the washing machine and the dryer. Next to the dryer was a small, worn-down sink. It was clearly stained and dirty, and you wondered how old the house was.

In the corner was a little wire deck shelf. On it were boxes and many other random objects. You managed to push yourself into the small space that was between the washing machine and the rack. You grabbed the first and the only box on the highest level, surprised that it was lighter than it seemed. You looked inside, only to find old leather gloves and a first aid kit. The white of the kit had a bit of dried blood on it, and the gloves were creased.

You grimaced, but you figured that they were from before he retired. You put the box back and reached for the other one that was two levels down from the top. It was much heavier than the previous one, and you were scared that you would drop it. You peered into the box and found a sleek black gun. Your eyes widened, and you nearly let go of the six faces of cardboard.

But it also made sense for him to own a gun. You didn’t want to think of the possible reasons to scare yourself, so you pretended as if you didn’t see it and put it back. The rest of the shelf just had little old objects that seemed like they came from a thrift store or a pawn shop. One was a small porcelain deer in a pink skirt with glitter on its spots. It made you smile; of course, Bucky would have something like that. The deer’s bright doe eyes looked up at you, but they seemed more sad than anything else.

Though you marvelled at the statue at first, it eventually made you feel uneasy. You tore your eyes away from it and slowly made your way out of the cramped space. You didn’t know where else to look, and your gut feeling didn’t seem to go away. Though the lightbulb was turned on, the room was still dark. The area next to the staircase was particularly shadowed, and your stomach dropped just a bit as you stared at it.

You swallowed thickly and nervously, but you were also elated at the fact that you finally found somewhere worthy of checking. You stepped into the darkness, and you pulled your phone out of the pocket of your jeans. You turned the flashlight feature on and shined the light throughout the space. The ground was barren, and so were the walls. Dust covered them, though.

You rested your off-hand against the side of the staircase, sighing to yourself before realizing that there was a space underneath the stairs. You bent down and shone the light there, moving it around to try and find something. When that was of no help, you stretched the hand that was on the stairs to try and feel for something, anything. Your digits brushed up against what felt like a shoebox. Your heart jumped, and you fumbled around trying to grab it.

You dragged the box out from the staircase while you bit your bottom lip. You sat down on the dirty floor, and you hesitated in opening up the box. You wondered if it was best to let sleeping dogs lie, to just ignore your intuition and to trust Bucky. But you knew better than that. You really did. Your shaky hand lifted the top of the box, and you set it down on the ground.

You pointed your flashlight inside the box, and you gasped loudly. It was filled to the top with different things that were oh so familiar. Maybe it was because they belonged to you. A pair of pink panties that you thought your washing machine ate was at the top. You took them out of the box just to find a few old notebooks of yours. You believed they were under your bed, but it seemed to be otherwise.

A few lipsticks and a hairbrush were there, too. You didn’t recall them being missing, and you certainly didn’t remember giving them to Bucky because you never did. You dug everything of yours out of the box. Polaroids, more panties, jewelry, polaroids of yourself and your body, as well as much more. At the bottom was a bunch of folded papers in a Ziploc bag.

You pushed the square slider at the top to open the bag, and you pulled out the papers. You opened them up just to be faced with a file detailing almost everything about you. There were pictures of you around your house, at work and doing other things. One was of you showering, and you felt sick to your stomach. You didn’t know whether you should cry, call someone, or be angry.

But what you did know was that you needed to get as far away from Bucky as possible. You quickly shoved everything back into the box, and you put the lid back on. You grabbed it and placed it under your arm before trying to stand up. You unlocked your phone and searched through the screen for the Phone app. You needed to call your mom, maybe ask her if you could stay with her for a bit. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you panicked, not being able to find her contact.

You turned around and managed to click on her name, and you began to make your way up the stairs. You clicked the call button and put the phone on speaker. You listened closely as it rang, and you waited for the ‘ringing’ to turn into a timer. But you didn’t look where you were going, which is why you let out a scream as you bumped into something. No, someone.

You looked up slowly, just to see Bucky staring at you. His face was filled with hurt, and you heard his metal arm whir as he clenched his fist. “Where do you think you’re going, doll?” he asked innocently, smiling at you. “Uhm, I- I was just going to go eat lunch!” you lied to him. Your voice was shaky, and so was your entire body. You felt nauseous, and your legs felt as if they were going to give out.

“Good, I’m glad you’re going to eat lunch. It’s important to have all your meals, y’know. But do you really need to go through my things and steal, too?” Bucky questioned, taking a step towards you. “Please let me go, Bucky. I won’t tell anyone!” you promised, ready to sob and beg to him. He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “No can do, doll. Can’t let my best girl go,” he exasperatedly explained to you, almost as if you didn’t learn about his stalking ways.

His hand came up to your face, and he stroked your cheek. The metal felt weird against your sweating skin. He moved his hand down to your neck, and he suddenly wrapped his fingers around your throat. You dropped your phone and the box, and you wrapped your hands around his wrist. “Shh, it’s okay, you just need to take a quick break from reality. That’s all,” Bucky cooed, and you found yourself struggling to breathe. Your vision began to darken, and you eventually passed out in his arms.