#gonna put on more layers and finish this fic

[cheswirls]

im not dying anymore but it's been snowing all day so i haven't gotten anything done outside stillllll

[bettymylove]

more (part 2)

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader x draco malfoy

content: basically part 2 of this fic along with this ask!!

a/n: hope you like thiss! because I do alott<33

it was a chilly day in hogsmeade, being the middle of november, it was expected. you never usually visit during this time of the year, preferring to be wrapped up in your bed instead.

harry had accompanied you this time, you had asked him to, to tell him that even after the few heated moments between you two, it could not go any further.

he had left abruptly after hearing this, and you were left all alone, in the three broomsticks, sipping on your butterbeer until two boys decided to join you.

the boys of course being, mattheo and draco, "what are you doing here all alone?" draco asked while adjusting himself along with mattheo in your booth.

you remembered your little meeting a few days ago, along with the words they said and you were almost starving of their touch.

"well,I came with harry but he just left" you explained the whole situation to them and saw both their eyes widening, and mouths becoming a thin line.

"why did you do it?" mattheo came closer, he was expecting an answer you were ready to give, "I want- I want someone else" you had finally said, after contemplating it in your mind.

"and who might that be?" the blond boy, copied mattheo's actions his hand coming to rest on your upper thigh, his head moving, urging you to speak.

you knew it was a do or die situation, you knew you could never retreat what you were going to say and despite that, despite all the fears you had decided to say it, "you, both of you."

you were yanked from your seat to the say the least, your coat hurriedly being put on you as well as your scarf, and you were unable to make head or tail of who was doing what.

before you knew it you had reached the gate of hogwarts, after a much silent walk, but you did not miss, how both of their pants just seemed a little too tight.

you had reached the dungeons, both the boys quickly opening the door to their dorm and pulling you inside.

draco had captured your lips in a ferocious kiss, one that took your breath away, you weren't thinking where your hands were going, but you didn't care, you had resorted to resting your hand on his hair, pulling it slightly.

mattheo was behind you in an instant, slowly pulling all the layers of clothes you had off your body, until you stood in your underwear.

he had started kissing your neck while draco was fixated on your boobs, "you're so pretty, so perfect" he said in between kisses.

laying you down on the bed, both the boys were touching you everywhere, and soon you saw in your peripheral vision mattheo going down on his knees.

taking off your last piece of clothing, his face met your cunt, sopping wet and he couldn't wait for a taste so he didn't.

soon you were a moaning mess, bucking your hips on his face, screaming his name, gasping for breath you cane undone on his face then and there.

"you did so good, such a good girl for me" he praised you, and you felt yourself getting even more wet, if that was possible.

draco had soon replaced him, stroking his hard cock, which was red and leaking from the tip, he asked if you're sure and you answered in the affirmative.

entering you, he waited so you fould adjust yourself to his size and soon started thrusting slowly, which turned into vigorous ones.

you felt mattheo tap your cheek, "open up" and as soon as you did, the inside of your mouth met with his cock.

you were completely full and you wouldn't have it any other way, it was the best feeling in the world, feeling almost euphoric.

"god, look at you, such a fucking slut for the both of us" draco said in between thrusts, while grunting himself.

mattheo had finished inside your mouth and you swallowed, about to come undone yourself, "oh god, I'm gonna-" and you did before you could even finish your sentence.

draco finished inside of you painting your walls a pretty white, pulling out and laying down beside you, with mattheo on the other side, all he could let out was a sigh.

[justagalwhowrites]

Run Rabbit Part 2

You, Joel and Tommy settle into your situation. A continuation of Run Rabbit Part 1, found on Tumblr here.

PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS. Written as part of the @romana-after-dark Dead Dove December event (but posted late because it's impossible for me to make a deadline at the moment apparently.)

Relationship: Joel Miller x Female Reader X Tommy Miller

Warnings: DUBCON (reader is a captive, participation might be enthusiastic but consent is dubious under the circumstances.) Raider!Joel; Raider!Tommy; Captive reader; Canon-typical violence; graphic depictions of violence; graphic depictions of injury; attempted SA (not by Joel or Tommy); Dom/Sub dynamic but not an established relationship; Dom-ish Joel; Brat tamer-ish Joel; Sub-ish reader; DDDNE; M/F/M threesome; unprotected P in V sex; Anal sex; Oral sex; No use of Y/N; Minors DNI 18+ Only. This part is filthy, OK? There are two dicks. They're put to good use. The end.

Length: 17.9k (If I knew what the fuck my problem is, I'd tell you, I swear.)

AO3 | Fic Masterlist | Full Masterlist | Previous Part

You were oddly relieved when Joel and Vince came back the next afternoon. Tommy heard them coming, one ear cocked toward the door when the front step creaked, and he turned back to you quickly. 

“They ask, you’ve been tied up til a few hours ago,” he said. “All my idea to untie you, OK?” 

“OK,” you said, frowning a little but not arguing with someone else taking the heat. You didn’t want to piss off Joel. He seemed to run this whole operation and you wanted to stay on his good side. At least until you could get the fuck away from here. 

But he wasn’t upset that Tommy had untied you. He seemed to expect it. Even though he did bind your wrists again almost the second he was in the door. 

“Here,” he said once you were tied again, digging in his pack. He pulled out a few bottles of shampoo and conditioner and body wash and hand lotion, setting them on the table in front of you. “Thought you could use that. Might make you more comfortable.” 

You frowned, picking up the shampoo as best you could with your tied hands. You looked at the bottle for a moment, as though it was going to reveal something to you somehow. 

“Why do you care if I’m comfortable?” You asked eventually. 

Joel shrugged. 

“Don’t need you to be uncomfortable. Need you to keep us alive. Don’t have to be miserable while you do it.” 

The books kept you busy for a few days, the men sticking close to home for a while. Joel had come back with a nasty cut on his leg that you needed to treat after a few days of him trying to tough it out. He unbound your hands for that and Tommy brightened a bit when he did only to deflate when Joel tied you up once his leg was stitched up. About a week after they got back, the men hauled in water from the rain barrels outside, layers of ice forming on the top. They warmed some up over the fire and partially filled the bathtub, Tommy untying you as they did. 

“Gotta be quick,” Joel said. “Don’t trust you to not take off on us but we’re movin’ tomorrow, may as well get clean while you can.” 

“Moving where?” You asked as Tommy gently pulled the last of the rope from your wrists. You stretched and rotated your joints before you absently traced the indentations in your skin. 

“Not for you to worry about,” Joel said. “Just you and me to start. Vince and Tommy have some shit to finish up down this way first. You’ll be slower to travel with.” 

“I’d be faster if you untied me and I could keep my balance.”

Joel scoffed. 

“It’d be faster if you got with the program, little girl. You’re mine now, not gonna just let you take the fuck off no matter how hard you try.” 

You glared at him but followed him to the small bathroom when he guided you there. 

“I’ll be right outside this door,” he said. “Don’t think about tryin’ anything.” 

“Yeah, because I’ll just climb out through a pipe,” you muttered, closing the door behind you. They’d put a lantern in the room so you weren’t in the dark, at least. 

You got undressed, folding your clothes and setting them on the toilet that was now totally useless as anything besides a chair or a shelf. The fabric was stiff with dirt and sweat and signs of life after you’d lived in it for weeks and you doubted it would ever be clean again. 

The water was warm when you lowered yourself into it, barely coming up over your hips and the tops of your thighs, but enough to get clean. You scrubbed every inch of yourself and washed your hair twice, the water gradually shifting to a sickly gray. You didn’t mind. You felt clean for the first time in well over a month. The last time you’d had a bath, it had been warm enough to jump in a river without freezing half to death. You tried not to think about how long that had been. 

But, when you got out, you realized that you didn’t have clean clothes in the bathroom with you and you weren’t about to put on the old ones now that you were clean. 

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself. 

“Tryin’ to cause trouble in there?” Joel asked from the other side of the door, making you jump. 

“No,” you rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “I just didn’t think to grab clean clothes before coming in here and my old ones are disgusting.” 

“Oh,” Joel said, voice oddly gentle. “Um… just… one minute.” 

“Can’t go far,” you muttered, trying to dry yourself as best as you could with the scrap of towel that they’d left you in the bathroom while trying not to freeze. 

To his credit, Joel was quick. 

“Got my eyes closed,” he said. “Open the door.” 

You clenched your jaw a little but obeyed, trying to hide your body behind the the door as best you could. Joel held jeans, a flannel, underwear, a bra and socks out to you in a haphazard pile in one hand, covering his eyes with the other. You snorted. 

“What.” 

“Nothing,” you said, taking the clothes as best you could. “Thank you.” 

“Yup.” 

You went to close the door but jumped and shrieked instead. Perched on the edge of the tub was large mouse - or was it a rat? - trying to work its way down into the water without sliding in. You jumped onto the sink on instinct, half of the clothes tumbling to the floor while you clutched the rest to your chest as Joel came bursting in. 

“What!” He asked, looking around for some kind of threat in the tight space. 

“Rat!” You yelled, pointing at the thing on the stained porcelain. “There, on the tub!” 

“Shit,” he grabbed the bucket next to the tub and moved for it but it saw him coming and took off, darting between his legs and into the main part of the house where it was met with a sickening thud. 

“Got it!” Tommy called and you watched as the tension left Joel’s shoulders. 

Your body relaxed, too, even though you flinched a little at the thought that you’d been living here with that thing for who knows how long. 

“You alright?” Joel asked, looking at you. His eyes trailed down over you before coming back to your face and you remembered, suddenly, that you were naked, just a pile of fabric on your lap and held to your chest to hide the parts you’d want to protect the most. 

“Fine,” you said, clutching the clothes tighter to yourself, your heart beating faster than you wanted when you realized just how close Joel was to you. “Just… surprised me, is all.” 

“Right,” he said, eyes dropping to your chest again before quickly coming back up. “Get dressed. Be quick.” 

He stalked out, slamming the door behind him, your heart still thudding against your ribs. 

You got dressed quickly, too jumpy to properly savor the feeling of clean clothes on your clean body. When you emerged from the bathroom, Joel was nowhere to be found. You frowned a little at that as Tommy came back inside, hauling more water to warm over the fire. 

“He stepped out,” he said. “Don’t gotta tie you up quite yet.” 

“Right,” you said, folding yourself into a corner of the couch. Vince watched you from his place at the small table, finger idly tracing over the blade of the knife he was sharpening. You narrowed your eyes. “Can I help you?” 

“No,” he sat back a little further in his chair. “Just clean up good.” 

He adjusted his pants and you tried to ignore the sickening feeling in your stomach when his eyes stayed on you as he did. 

Tommy finished refilling the tub and glanced out the window where it was starting to get dark before he looked back to you. 

“Why don’t we call it a night early,” he said. “C’mon.” 

You looked at him skeptically for a moment. 

“If you’re not in here for him to tie up…” Tommy trailed off. 

“Bed time it is.” 

You followed him deeper into the cabin, no more hint of fear there when you were alone with Tommy. He’d had every opportunity to hurt you. He hadn’t done it. You weren’t sure if you were just desperate for someone to be attached to or if you’d have always come to trust Tommy. But that didn’t much matter. You had what you had. 

“Gotta promise not to take off on me,” he said, his voice low as he sat cross legged on the bed, grabbing the deck of cards from the bedside table. He started to shuffle. “He really won’t let me get away with goin’ easy on you if we gotta go run you down again.” 

“Why do you listen to him?” You asked, keeping your voice quiet, too. “You’re brothers, right? Just talk to him… or take over.” 

He scoffed. 

“Did take over for a bit,” he said. “Right after the outbreak. Did the best I could, little rabbit, but… didn’t go well. Miracle either of us are alive. But he wasn’t in any shape to figure shit out so that left me…” 

“What happened?” You frowned as Tommy started to deal. “Was he injured? Is that why he wants a nurse around so bad?” 

Tommy was quiet for a moment, staring intently at his cards, a hard look on his face. 

“He… he was hurt in the outbreak,” Tommy said eventually. “Still got some of the scars from it. He wasn’t able to make decisions for a while. Had to carry him for a bit, make sure he stayed breathing. I… I’m not cut out for that. Especially not with Joel. It’s better that he leads, trust me.” 

You looked at your hand, not able to picture Joel as anything but what he was. Cold and calculating and always in control. Picturing him hurt and weak made your chest get tight. You weren’t sure why. 

“Game’s Gin Rummy,” Tommy said, clearing his throat. “Usual stakes.” 

When you could hear Joel talking to Vince in low tones in the living room, Tommy folded his hand and gestured to the bed before lying down. You took your spot next to him, hands folded over your stomach. 

“Can’t I go with you instead?” You asked quietly, head turned to see him. 

He looked over at you before for a moment before turning his eyes back to the ceiling, settling down into the pillow. 

“No,” he whispered. “Joel has his reasons. Just… Behave yourself. He’s not gonna hurt you. I know he seems scary but he wouldn’t hurt a woman if he doesn’t have to. Don’t push him.” 

When Joel came in, you pretended to be asleep. You felt his eyes on you, heard the grinding of his teeth and, eventually, the creak of the floorboards as he settled in to sleep. 

The two of you got started early, your hands bound in front of you almost as soon as you were awake. 

“Not gonna get away with so much without my brother around,” Joel muttered as he wound the rope around you. “Don’t try and push your luck, little girl.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you muttered, your attitude tempered by your meek tone. You were about to be alone in the woods with this man for who knows how long. You didn’t want to push him too far. 

Tommy and Vince were outside when you left, getting ready to go do whatever it was they were going to do. You didn’t want to know. Tommy watched as you disappeared into the woods with his brother and you looked back over your shoulder at him, not ready to let go of the comfort you found in his soft, brown eyes. 

“Shouldn’t get so attached, little girl,” Joel said after you’d been walking long enough that you were sure you were out of earshot. 

“Attached to what?” You frowned, glancing back at him, breath rising in front of you. 

“My brother,” he said. “Watch where you’re walkin’.” 

You obeyed, looking ahead. 

“What makes you think I’m attached?” You asked. 

“Sure seem to spend a lot of time together if you’re not,” he said.

“What, you jealous?” You asked before you could stop yourself. You snapped your jaw shut after the words were out. You had to get your mouth under control. It got you in enough trouble before the world ended let alone when you were on the wrong side of a raider’s rifle. 

Joel snorted. 

“Just know Tommy,” he said. “Never found a broken thing he didn’t want to save and he just doesn’t know when to keep his fucking distance. Night of the outbreak I was bailin’ him out of jail because he beat up a guy who was roughin’ up a waitress. It’s a habit he needs to break if he’s gonna live through this shit. You’re just another symptom of his problem.”

That made your stomach clench. Part of you had thought - or maybe just hoped - that you meant something to Tommy. It bothered you that you didn’t. It bothered you more that it mattered. You shouldn’t care, beyond the fact that his affection for you might help you stay alive. 

But, with Zach gone - Zach, who likely hadn’t cared all that much for you, either, given how he handed you over to these men so easily - you had no one besides Tommy. You’d never had no one before. Being so utterly alone was horrifying in a way that even cordyceps weren’t. You weren’t sure you could handle it. 

“What makes you think I’m something he’d need to save?” You asked instead. 

“Little girl…” 

“Woman.” 

“Little girl,” he said again. “All alone after traveling with some guy who was willing to trade her pain for his life? What about that don’t need savin’, desperate to know what I fuckin’ missed.” 

“What’s wrong with a little attachment?” You asked instead of answering. “What, do you not have friends? No wife or girlfriend?” 

“Attachment gets you fuckin’ killed, that’s what’s wrong with attachment,” he snapped, voice more bitter than you were used to hearing, enough that you looked back at him. His face was hard but his eyes were more raw than you’d ever seen them, the pain sharp and harsh and full. You stopped and faced him, searching those eyes for a moment. It was easier to see the resemblance with Tommy now that he wasn’t so closed off and guarded, the moment of weakness bringing his latent humanity to the surface. 

“What happened to you?” You asked quietly, brows drawn together as you traced the planes of his face with your eyes. You’d never really looked at him before, not like this. There had always been a hardness to him that made you look away, like he was dangerous to even look at too closely. It reminded you, now that you thought about it, of something you’d read once about Chernobyl. How the nuclear material from the reactor was so radioactive it melted film and destroyed robots that tried to investigate, let alone what it did to mortal bodies. So poisonous nothing could survive being close enough to really look.

But, in this moment, he wasn’t that. He was just a man who had seen and felt and been taken apart too much. There were scars on his otherwise smooth skin, the most prominent at his nose and temple and you had the strangest urge to reach out and run your fingers over them, to cradle his face and trace your thumbs over the rise of his cheekbones and tell him to close his eyes for a while, to let it all go for a while. 

You weren’t really thinking when you raised your bound hands to touch his skin but he didn’t let you get that far, snatching your wrists out of the air and ripping you harshly to him, making you yelp and stumble. 

“I am not your fucking business,” he snarled. “And you’ll keep your goddamn hands to yourself unless I tell you otherwise.” 

He shoved you back and you almost tripped over a root but you managed to stay standing, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. 

“Move,” he ordered. “Eyes on the fuckin’ trail.” 

You looked at him for another second, the cold cruelty of him back in his eyes. You sniffed but obeyed, turning and following the trail. 

You didn’t say anything else until you stopped for lunch, in a valley that hadn’t gotten snow yet. He pushed you down onto a log and stood over you, broad and domineering. 

“I go take a piss, you’ll stay put, right?” He asked. “Or do I need to do that right in front of you to keep you from fucking around?” 

“I’ll stay put,” you muttered, not looking at him. 

He went into the trees and you sat on the log, staring into space. For some reason, you felt - for the first time - that this was going to be your life now. That you’d always be with Joel and Tommy and Vince and that you’d be at their mercy forever, a tool in their arsenal of pain as they took whatever they wanted from what they called their territory. You’d be trapped and never have a chance at a semblance of a life again. 

The tears came even though you didn’t want them to, spilling over and feeling hot on your cheeks against the cold air. You heard Joel start to return through the brush and you tried to will yourself to stop fucking crying but you couldn’t manage it, your body mourning the loss of any kind of life you’d hoped to have. 

“The fuck is your problem?” Joel asked as you sniffled and dried your eyes on your sleeve as best you could with your bound hands. 

“What do you think?” You snapped, voice wobbly and wet. “This is my life now, isn’t it? Until the day I die - which will probably happen when you get bored with me or decide I’m more trouble than I’m worth and shoot me for it - I’m just some… some… some thing that you haul places and use when you need and I’ll never have another friend or have anyone care about me ever again and I think you can fucking deal with me being upset about that since you’re the one doing it, OK? Just leave me alone.” 

You pulled your knees to your chest as best you could from your place on the log and tried to bury your face there, anything to keep Joel from seeing your pain. 

A few moments later, you felt the log shift below you and Joel nudged you gently. 

“C’mon,” he said, voice oddly soft. “Need to eat something. Got a ways to go yet today.” 

You sniffed. 

“Not hungry.” 

Joel was quiet for a moment. 

“We can wait a bit,” he said eventually. “Making better time than I expected.” 

You ignored him, still trying to force yourself to stop crying. 

“Not gonna kill you,” he said. 

“What?” You pulled your head from where you’d buried it, sniffling a bit. 

“Not gonna kill you,” he said again. You frowned at him. “Just… you said you thought you were gonna die when I got bored with you or… I’m not gonna kill you. Well, you try to kill me or Tommy I might. Or you get bit. Or take off on us. But… short of that, not planning to kill you.” 

“Great,” you sniffed. “Lemme know when plans change I guess…” 

Joel huffed a small laugh. 

“Not gonna change,” he said. “S’not that I really like killing people. Got better hobbies than that. And I try to avoid killing people who don’t deserve it and people I don’t have to kill. You don’t deserve it so I’m not going to kill you unless I have to, it’s simple as that.”

You looked at him for a moment, your tears slowing. 

“Why do you do it then?” You asked. “The stealing and the hurting and the killing? If you don’t like it…” 

Joel looked at you, his eyes searching yours again, a hint of the openness that was in them before. 

“I’m not losing my little brother,” he said eventually. “So I’m going to do whatever I need to do to make sure he stays alive. Right now, that means hurtin’ and killin’ more than I really want. S’OK. I’ll pay that price, long as he stays alive.” 

You watched him, eyes trailing over those scars again. 

“You really think that’s the best way?” You asked softly. “All that killing? All that hurt? It’s got to hurt you, too, do you really think…” 

“Better than the alternative,” he cut you off. “Shit like handing ourselves over to FEDRA for them to lock up in a fuckin’ QZ or being sitting ducks for other people willin’ to hurt and kill first. Better this way, little girl. Trust me on that. Keeps him alive, that’s the important thing. That’s why you’re here. Something happens, it’s not a death sentence.  All that matters.” 

You nodded slowly and sniffed a little. Joel reached forward, his hands still seeming so big, and gently brushed his thumbs below your eyes, drying your tears. 

“You’re alright,” he said softly, holding your cheek in his palm. “S’not so bad. You’re mine now. Take care of what’s mine.” 

You just looked at him, his eyes on yours for a moment, before he cleared his throat and pulled out the bag of jerky, holding it out to you. You tried to reach your bound hands inside but the opening was too small and you made a frustrated noise when he laughed a little. 

“Hold on, I got it.” 

He pulled a piece out and held it out to you. But when you went to take it, he pulled it away and you frowned as he put it just inches away from your lips. 

“Open.” 

You kept your eyes locked on his as you obeyed and he put the salty meat on your tongue slowly, pressing it down into the muscle. You waited until he took his hand back to close your mouth and you chewed, holding his gaze as you did. He got out another piece of jerky, holding it in his thick fingers until you swallowed. He held it up like he did before and you let your mouth fall open so he could feed it to you, his movements disorientingly delicate for a man so large. 

He fed you that way until you had your fill of the jerky and he pulled out an apple and a knife, pressing the blade into the crisp flesh of it and cutting a slender wedge. He brought the first piece to your lips, the fruit balancing on his thumb and the harsh metal. 

“Open,” he said, something low and gravely in his voice. You obeyed and he put the apple on your tongue, the juice of it brushing your lips and making you lick them as he pulled the knife away. He cut a slice off of his own and you watched as his mouth slipped dangerously close to the sharpened edge. He kept his eyes on you as he brought the knife back to the apple and cut into it again and you opened your mouth for him to put the slice inside, the blade that had just been against his lips brushing your own. 

When it was gone, you just looked at him for a moment, watching as his thumb ran over the blade, wiping away all signs of the fruit on the knife before putting it away. 

“Come on,” he said, getting up and grabbing a handful of fabric at the nape of your neck as though you were a disobedient kitten, hefting you to your feet. “Want to clear at least 10 more miles before we stop for the night.” 

“Where are we going?” You asked as he picked up the overstuffed pack that was carrying all your supplies and his. “Why couldn’t we just stay where we were?” 

“Not a great place to ride out winter,” he said. “Other spot’s closer to things we’ll need but far enough away that we shouldn’t run into much trouble. Stayed there last winter, too. Worked well enough.” 

“And you’re, what, just hoping no one’s taken it since you left?” You asked as he nudged you forward. You looked back over your shoulder at him as he shrugged. 

“Just take it back if they did,” he said. “Shouldn’t get there ’til tomorrow night, anyway. Expect Tommy and Vince round midday the day after. Watch where you’re goin’, can’t have you breaking your fuckin’ leg out here…” 

“Tomorrow?” You frowned before looking straight ahead. “Where are we stopping tonight?” 

“Somewhere that looks good,” he said. “We’ll be sleeping rough.” 

“Do we have the gear for that?” You asked looking back at him to see him glare at you before you looked forward again. “It’s cold…” 

“Thought you were some outdoorsy thing, little girl,” he said. “Can’t handle a little cold?” 

You hated being cold. You didn’t say that. 

“More worried about you,” you replied. “You drop dead on me out here, makes my life a whole lot harder. Have to try to cut myself out of these damn ropes…” 

“Not dropping dead on you,” he said. “Keep goin’, don’t waste your energy talking to me…” 

You rolled your eyes a little but pressed on, putting one foot in front of the other and trying to ignore the imposing man at your back. 

Joel called for a stop hours later at a small indentation in a cliffside that was protected from wind. He set out the bed rolls and fed you again, just like he had at lunch, each piece of food going from his hands to your lips. 

“Can’t we have a fire?” You asked, trying not to shiver as the sun set. Joel looked at you, incredulous. “What?” 

“Why do you think we can’t have a fucking fire?” He asked, brows raised. 

You sighed. 

“I guess it might attract people…” 

“It would attract people,” he corrected you. “With Tommy and Vince around I wouldn’t give a shit but you? You’re a liability. Don’t much want to deal with trying to keep us both alive on my own. No fire.” 

You tucked your hands between your thighs and shivered a little. Joel raised his brows at you. 

“What?” You snapped. “I’m cold. It’s cold. Sue me.” 

“Don’t think suin’ you would do much good nowadays.” 

“Shut up.” 

He snorted and laughed a little. 

“Hold on,” he said, getting up and dragging his sleeping bag over next to yours before settling on top of it, sitting close to you. He held his arm out and you frowned. “Come on. Best way to get warm is to get close. Won’t bite and you’ll live, promise.” 

You glared at him but tucked yourself against his side all the same. He was right, it was warmer there. Joel seemed to just emanate heat, even through his thick suede coat. He even smelled warm, like cedar and sharp spice and crisp apple. You wedged your hands between your thigh and his and Joel frowned. 

“The hell are you that cold?” He muttered. “Feel like ice even through my damn jeans…” 

He pulled off the glove on the hand that wasn’t on your arm with his teeth and enveloped your hands in his much larger one. He pulled them to his mouth and breathed into your tight fingers, the heat of his breath seeping into your skin. 

“Don’t think we got more gloves but we can put some socks on your hands or somethin’ tomorrow,” he said. “No good to me if you lose your fuckin’ fingers.” 

“I could put them in my pockets if you just untied me,” you said, an almost teasing edge to your voice. 

“No good to me if you take off, either,” he said. You could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “Can’t trust you yet. 

“You think I can trust you?” You asked, looking up at him as best you could from your position tucked against his side. 

“No,” he said. “But I don’t need you to. You don’t get a choice here, little girl, I do. Don’t matter if you trust me.”

“It’d be easier if I did,” you said quietly. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “Imagine so.” 

You drifted off there, tucked against his side, and when you woke up, you were curled into his warm body, his arm securely around your middle, sleeping bag around you both. His breath was warm against your skin, his nose buried in your hair, his broad chest firm at your back. You weren’t sure what to do and were trying to figure out when he stirred, groaning a little as he adjusted his arm before sitting up. 

“Gotta get you better cold weather gear,” he muttered. “Don’t know how the fuck you survived last winter…” 

“Stayed to the south,” you replied. “Which you should do, too, by the way…” 

“Lot more competition to the south,” he said. “Don’t feel like havin’ a big crew. Works better to stay up this way with just us.” 

“Probably fine when you’re a furnace,” you muttered. 

“Get moving,” he nudged you. “You’ll be warmer when you’re walking.” 

You rolled your eyes but obeyed, getting out of the way enough that Joel could get up and pull you to your feet. He put socks over your bound hands and you tried not to laugh. 

He sighed. 

“What now?” 

“Most fucked up sock puppets…” You wriggled your hand into the right position as best you could to give it a mouth and he rolled his eyes. 

“Should never have told you I’m not planning on killin’ you unless you make me,” he muttered. “Just be insufferable now.” 

You smirked a little as you walked and you felt like you made decent time that morning. Joel fed you again when you stopped for lunch, tracing his thumb over the plush swell of your lower lip to wipe away a drop of juice from the apple, but you didn’t talk like you had the day before. Beyond the intimacy of him feeding you, his eyes lingering on your lips and throat, he was distant, teeth grinding and looking off into the trees when he wasn’t watching you. 

It was mid-afternoon when you heard it, the haggard pants and inhuman gargle of infected. 

“Joel,” you whispered, whipping back to look at him. He grabbed your shoulder and all but threw you behind him, his rifle raised. You pressed tight against his back. “Joel, I don’t have a gun, I can’t…” 

“Hush,” he said, hardly glancing back at you. “Told you, you’re mine and I protect what’s mine. You’ll be OK.” 

You winced and tried not to cry, pressing your forehead into Joel’s back. He was warm. Solid. Safe. You had to trust that he was going to take care of you, you didn’t have another choice. 

There was a snarl at your left and Joel turned so fast it made your head spin, his left leg coming back and catching against yours, forcing you to move with him so you were still protected by his large, broad body as he faced the infected head on. 

The crack of the gun made you flinch and you tried to focus on the feel of Joel as you moved with him as he backed up, staying where his legs guided you, keeping you tucked safely against him as he fired round after round, the snarling getting louder and closer until, suddenly, you felt the harsh grasp of a hand on your elbow. It ripped you back into a body that was more like your own - about the same height, none of the almost inhuman broadness of the man in front of you - and the thing snarled. 

“Joel!” You shrieked, trying your best to rip yourself away from it as it pulled your arms toward its mouth so hard it almost dislocated your shoulder. “Joel, please!” 

The infected sank its teeth into your arm but didn’t penetrate the thick coat as you tried to rip yourself free. For a moment, you thought you had, the pressure from its jaw letting up. But it just roared, gripping you tighter and pulling you closer, searching for skin it could reach. 

For a moment, as you watched what used to be a human woman stretch her open mouth toward your throat, you were almost surprised that this was how it was going to end for you. 

It shouldn’t be a surprise. It was the apocalypse, after all. It should make sense that the thing that made the world end took you out, too. But it had felt all but impossible for so long. Like you’d survived so much, worked so hard, pushed for so long that it wasn’t coming for you anymore. Like, eventually, things were going to slot into place and you were going to have a semblance of a life the the reality you now called home. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. You weren’t supposed to end like this. 

The butt of Joel’s rifle snapped you out of your own head, the stock coming down hard on the woman’s head and she shrieked, shoving you aside so that you fell flat on your back, and shifting her attention to Joel. He thrust her back and quickly snapped his gun around, shooting her in the head. She dropped where she stood and Joel lowered the gun ever so slightly, breathing heavy, surveying the woods around you both for any impending threats. After a moment, he slung the rifle on his back and all but ran to you, dropping to one knee at your side, his brown eyes wide as they ranged over you again and again. 

“Hey,” he said once he’d looked you over, his gaze locking on yours. “You’re OK. Take a deep breath for me, you’re OK, I’ve got you, you’re OK…” 

You realized then that your breaths were coming in short, harsh gasps, that your whole body was shaking. Joel pulled off a glove and took your face almost harshly in his hand. 

“Look at me,” he said, giving you a rough shake as he did. “Just me. Infected are gone, there were just six of them and I got ‘em all. You’re OK, not bit. Neither am I. It’s OK. Just you and me. I’ve got you, just focus on me.” 

You nodded in his grip, tears stinging your eyes, but you couldn’t seem to calm your breathing down. You just weren’t getting enough air and your body couldn’t calm down enough to slow your breaths. Your head spun and your bound hands found Joel’s bicep, fingertips digging into the muscle and the thickness of his coat. Something made a nearby bush rustle and your eyes darted, wide and frantic, not able to turn your head in Joel’s grip. 

“Hey!” His voice was sharper, your eyes shooting to him again, afraid you’d pissed him off now. But he didn’t look mad, he looked worried. His eyes were still wide and they were warm and you had the passing thought that, maybe, dying wouldn’t be as bad if you got to look in those eyes when you went. “There you go, keep lookin’ at me, I’ve got you.” The hand that wasn’t clutched onto your head, fingertips clutching into your hair and skull, went to your chest. His palm pressed over your breasts, near your sternum, fingers splaying wide over your skin. “Gonna get you to breathe deep, just stick with me, OK? Out first…” He pressed down with firm, even pressure and you emptied your lungs. Just as your panic was going to kick into high gear, his hand relaxed. “And in, pull that air down low, OK? Focus on it, focus on me, follow my hand with your chest, you’re OK.” 

You did your best to obey, pulling air into you and trying desperately to fill the empty spaces inside yourself, your chest chasing the heat of his callused palm. 

“Out now,” he said, his voice so calm, adding pressure to his hand again and pushing the air from your lungs until they were empty. “Good, doing good, in this time.” 

You nodded and breathed deep, chasing his palm, and started feeling calmer then. Your heart wasn’t beating quite so fast, the feeling that you were suffocating inside your skin fading. 

“Feeling better?” He asked, his grip on you loosening. You just nodded. “Gonna help you sit up now…” He pulled you up, one of his large hands in the middle of your back, the other on your bound hands. “Take another deep breath for me.” 

You obeyed and he carefully guided you so that your back was against a tree. 

“Catch your breath,” he said. “We’ll take a few minutes, then move on. This time of year, shouldn’t be a much infected around here. Don’t think we’ve got more comin’.” 

You nodded and breathed slow and deep, closing your eyes, concentrating on the prickle of the cold air in your lungs and then the warm fog of it rising in front of you. 

“Think you’re ready to move?” Joel asked after a few minutes. You opened your eyes. He was still there, right next to you, watching you closely with those soft brown eyes. 

“Yeah,” you said, voice shaky. “I’m… I’ve never been that close to one before, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have panicked…” 

“S’OK,” Joel said. “They’re… well, they’re fuckin’ scary. It’s alright.” 

You watched him for a moment and frowned a little. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You asked quietly. 

His brows knitted together, frowning back. 

“Only as mean as you make me be, little girl. Never wanted to hurt you. Just wanted to keep you and I’ll be as mean as I need to keep you.” 

He stood up and took your elbow, pulling you to your feet. 

“Should get moving,” he said. “Got a miles to go yet and we don’t know what we’re walking into when we get there. Let’s go.” 

You stayed close to Joel the rest of the hike, never going more than a minute or two without looking back over your shoulder to make sure he was still close even though you could hear him at your back. 

It was nightfall when you reached the cabin that Joel had mentioned. The setting was idyllic, you could see why he’d want to set up long term. There were no obvious paths leading to the cabin that you could see, Joel routing you off an apparent dead end to the trail around through the brush and over a stream to get to it. The land around it was dense with trees to the point that it was hard to even see the cabin until you were at the right angle. The woodpile on the front porch was low and the windows were dark. Joel tucked you into a bush at the edge of the clearing made for what had once been a drive for the cabin. 

“Stay put,” he said. “Don’t make me run you down.” 

He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he crept closer to the cabin, moving slowly and quietly up to the front door with his gun at the ready. He checked something at the hinge of the door and relaxed a little when he did, slinging his rifle onto his back and coming back for you in the brush. 

“No one’s been here since we left in April,” he said, helping you through the rougher parts of the ground. “Should be safe. Left some firewood last time, enough to last us a few days at least…” 

“We can have a fire?” Your face lit up. 

Joel smiled a little. 

“We can have a fire,” he said. “Can’t let you fuckin’ freeze to death, you’re useless if you’re dead.” 

“Or frostbitten,” you said. “Also useless if I’m frostbitten.” You could almost hear him roll his eyes. 

Joel built a fire and you sat in front of it, warming your hands at the flames and luxuriating in the heat as he went about setting up other parts of the cabin. You just checked to make sure you knew where he was every minute or two, being far from him making your stomach churn and your thoughts race. If Joel was far away, anything could happen and you’d be helpless to stop it. Without Joel, you’d be one of those things by now. Without Joel, you weren’t safe. 

It was a ludicrous thought, some part of you knew that. He was the reason you were out here to begin with. He was the reason you were so spectacularly useless in a fight right now (not that you’d ever been particularly good at brawling.) 

But he had protected you like no one else had. He’d protected you from Vince’s threats when you’d run away and he had every reason to just let the other man kill you. He’d put himself between you and half a dozen infected when he could have just let them have you while he picked them off. He took care of you, he looked out for you. You wouldn’t need nearly as much of either if he’d just left you with Zach but Zach had been fine trading you away to protect himself. Who knows how long you’d have lasted with him. And, while your survival skills were fine before the apocalypse, they were the kind that let you survive in the wilderness for a few weeks. They weren’t the kind that taught you how to fight monsters both human and inhuman. Joel might have literally tied you down but him and Tommy were the safest you could imagine being right now. 

The thought made you dig your nails into your palms and you tried not to focus on it as you stared at the flames as they chewed at the wood in the fireplace. But you weren’t able to ignore it for long, not when you realized you hadn’t heard or seen Joel in several minutes. 

“Joel?” You asked the darkness of the cabin. There was no response. 

You got up and crept toward the back of the structure, toward the rooms you hadn’t been in yet. But you couldn’t bring yourself to open any of the doors. 

“Joel?” You whispered. You gave him a second to reply and then headed for the front door. 

Night had fully fallen and you could only see what was illuminated by the glow of the fire through the window, the tree cover too dense to let in much light from the moon. Did you dare leave the porch? You weren’t trying to run away but Joel didn’t know that. One of the exceptions to the “not going to kill you” thing was you running. But what if he got hurt? What if infected showed up at the cabin? 

What if you were alone? 

“Joel?” 

“Thought you were cold?” His voice appeared from the side of the porch, making you jump. He walked around to the steps, water bottles in hand. 

“You were gone a while,” you said, indignant. 

Joel scoffed. 

“I was gone all of five minutes.” 

“It was longer than that.” 

“Well, I had to clear out the water pump, hadn’t been used in a bit,” he said. “Got it goin’ good, well’s still set…” He trailed off and considered you for a second, brows raised. “Were you worried, little girl?” 

It was your turn to scoff.

“No,” you rolled your eyes and looked toward the glow of the fire inside. “I just…” 

“You were worried,” he smirked. “Don’t worry, not gonna let the monsters get ya. Head inside.” 

“Only monster I’m worried about here is you,” you snapped. You regretted it almost as soon as you said it. Joel’s cocky smile sank enough that the dimple on his cheek disappeared and some of the softness left his eyes. 

“Get inside,” he said. “Before I give you somethin’ to worry about.” 

You sat by the fire, trying to check on what Joel was doing without showing that you were watching him. Eventually, he came and grabbed your elbow, pulling you sharply to your feet with a small yelp. 

“We’ll figure out sleeping arrangements once Tommy and Vince get here,” he said. “For now, we’re bunking together. Don’t trust you to behave otherwise.” 

He didn’t give you a chance to argue as he dragged you along behind him to one of the back rooms you’d been too afraid to open before. There was a king bed inside, made up with plush looking blankets and sheets. Joel helped you get your boots off but otherwise, you climbed in bed fully clothed on the side away from the door. He lay down, his back to you. You were pretty sure his arms were crossed and his back look tense. 

“Joel?” You said softly. 

“Hm.” 

“When they get here,” you said, still whispering even though there was no one else to hear you. “Please don’t make me sleep with Vince. Please. I’ll do whatever you want but…” 

“Not gonna make you share with him,” he cut you off, looking back over his shoulder toward you for a moment before looking straight ahead again. “It’ll be me or Tommy, not him.” 

“OK.” 

You were quiet for a few minutes but you were pretty sure Joel was still awake when you spoke again. 

“Joel?” 

He sighed. 

“Hm.” 

“Can I sleep closer?” You asked softly. He half rolled to try to look at you in the dark. “I just… I’m cold. You’re warm.” 

He sighed again but rolled onto his back and held his arm out. 

“C’mere.” 

You scooted closer until your head was against his chest and he put his arm loosely around you. You took a deep breath and sighed contentedly, not able to help it. 

“Surprised you’d want to be this close to a monster,” he said. He meant it to be wry, you could tell that, but there was a twinge on the last word that gave him away. 

“Well,” you said, adjusting your tied wrists as best you could. “Maybe… Monsters aren’t all bad. And some are warm. So.” 

He sighed. 

“Go to sleep.” 

Just as you were about to drift off, you felt his arm tighten around your shoulders, pulling you in closer. 

Tommy and Vince made it the next day with more supplies than they’d left the last place with. But, while Tommy had made it in one piece, Vince wasn’t so lucky. His arm had been dislocated and he’d taken a knife to the arm. Joel untied you and you needed Joel and Tommy’s help to position Vince to pop his arm back into place. You made him a sling and treated the wound on his arm, doing your best to keep it from getting infected before stitching it closed. 

You weren’t sure how bad the injury really was without the proper diagnostic tools but it seemed like Vince was making it out to be more than it was. You kept checking for signs of infection because he seemed to be constant pain, enough that Tommy and Joel were doing the bulk of the work to set up the cabin to ride out the winter. You helped where you could but Joel insisted on binding your hands again once Vince was patched up and you’d gotten cleaned up from the trip, so your skills were limited. 

The four of you had been at the cabin for more than a week when you noticed a shift. You still weren’t party to the discussions the men had, the three of them sending you behind closed doors while they conducted business, but you were certain that Joel and Tommy were getting ready to leave again. 

When you went to bed with Tommy that night, he confirmed your suspicions and your stomach dropped. 

“Can I come?” You asked. He looked at you for a moment, brows raised. “I won’t be much good at patching you up from afar…” 

“Hard to travel with you when we gotta keep you tied up,” he said, going back to gathering extra socks. 

“I’ll be good,” you said quickly. “I’ll do whatever you want, just bring me…” 

“Why do you want to come along so bad, Rabbit?” He asked. “Didn’t think you’d much want to be there when we raid groups…” 

“I don’t care,” you said quickly, even though the thought of watching them kill someone the way they’d killed Zach made your stomach turn. “I’ll behave, just don’t leave me here with…” 

Tommy’s head whipped around, his eyes narrowed. 

“Vince do somethin’ to you?” He asked. “He say something?” 

“No,” you shook your head, clenching your jaw. “Well, nothing big but I just… I have a bad feeling about him. I don’t trust him.” 

“And you trust me and Joel?” He asked, skeptical. 

“Not really,” you replied. “But… more than him.” 

“He knows not to touch you,” Tommy said. “We’ll only be gone a few days, week at most. We know a place only about a day from here where we can reliably find what we need. Shouldn’t take too long…” 

Your eyes went wide. A week. A week with just Vince. That was so much longer than you’d realized it would be. How were you supposed to avoid him for a week? 

“Can’t you stay and Joel goes with Vince?” You pleaded. “Or you and Vince go and leave Joel here? Just…” 

“Can’t,” Tommy said. “He’s still hurt and we’re low on supplies, we need to go now and we can’t risk bringin’ him. You really that afraid of him?” 

You tightened your jaw for a moment before nodding once. 

Tommy sighed. 

“Well, he’s hurt. Don’t think he’s gonna do much to you when he can’t use one arm. You’ll be OK. Next run we’ll figure out somethin’ else, OK?” 

You dug your nails into your palms. 

“Yeah,” you said. “OK.” 

Joel and Tommy left the next morning. You stood on the porch and watched their path long after they’d made it out of sight before sighing and going back inside. 

“Just you and me now,” he smirked from his position on the couch. “You’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?” 

 You didn’t answer. You just looked at him for a moment before heading back to the room you stayed in every night with Joel or Tommy and curled up in the middle of the big bed, the binds on your wrists feeling worse than they had in weeks. 

For the first two days, it was fine. Mostly. You generally avoided Vince, the man humming Run Rabbit anytime you were within earshot, making your whole body tense. Instead, you were just hanging out in the bedroom and sleeping or reading or just staring at the grain of the wood walls wondering if this was just what your life would be now. What if something happened and Joel and Tommy didn’t come back? What if Vince just left you here, tied up, forever? 

What if you were alone? 

The third day, you started getting suspicious of Vince’s claimed injury. Given what you knew, he should be doing much better at this point but he’d kept claiming he was in too much pain to even use his arm. It wasn’t impossible, of course, and it was hard to see what kind of intervention he would need in a cabin without the proper tools, so you were hoping that more time did the trick. But when you emerged from the bedroom that afternoon to use the bathroom, you found him in the kitchen, both arms stretched to reach something on a top shelf. You frowned and stood there, waiting for him to notice you. When he turned around, he jumped before smirking, putting his arm back in its sling. 

“Aren’t you a sneaky thing?” He asked, prowling over and standing just inches away from you. “See something you like?” 

“Arm looks like it’s doing better,” you replied, nodding to it. “Want me to look it over?” 

“Still hurts like a bitch,” he replied. “Just needed two hands so I lived with it for a minute. That OK with you, Florence Nightingale?” 

You shrugged. 

“Doesn’t matter to me if you fuck up your arm,” you replied. “Be my guest.” 

You ducked around him to go to the outhouse but his hand closed around your arm, yanking you back into him with a small yelp. 

“Think you’d be more invested,” he said, his face close to yours. “Only useful as because you can patch people up. Think the Millers will be so keen to keep you around if you can’t even do that right?” 

“Right,” you said. “Maybe I should be worse at it so they let me go.” 

“You really think they’d let you go?” He laughed. “You stupid girl. They’d kill you. Not gonna just let you wander around knowing where they like to hide out and what they have. You stop being useful, you’re dead. Just hope they let me have some fun with you first.” 

You wanted to throw Joel’s words back in his face, that he said he wasn’t going to kill you, not unless you made him. But you weren’t sure how much you could trust any of it. It felt like you could believe what Joel told you but he was keeping you tied up in a cabin in the woods. How much could you trust anything he said? 

Instead, you just pulled your arm away.

“I have to pee.” 

He laughed once. 

“Don’t go far,” he said. “Hate to have to run you down out there…” 

He started humming Run Rabbit again. 

The next afternoon, you knew he was lying about the arm. 

You emerged from the bedroom to find something to eat and found him sitting at the small table, bag of jerky and a bottle of whiskey in front of him, sling hanging off the back of the chair. 

“Good to see my medicinal skills are up to snuff,” you said derisively, going for the cabinet you knew held the jerky. “Guess I’ll live to bother you another day.” 

“Know what?” He snapped, shoving back from the table and stomping over to you, closing the gap between you in just two steps. “Think I’m getting tired of your smart fucking mouth…” 

You realized suddenly just how big Vince was. He was shorter than Joel so you didn’t notice it most of the time but, when he had you pressed back against the counter as you shrank back from him, you were suddenly very aware that he was large, more broad than he was expressly tall. Definitely big enough to do serious damage if he set his mind to it. His hand whipped forward and latched onto your jaw, his fingertips digging into your cheek, grip so tight you were worried he was going to dislocate it. 

“Sorry,” you said quickly. “I’m sorry, I’ll…” 

“Think I’m about done dealing with your shit,” he growled, the smell of liquor harsh on his breath. “Think it’s about time I got my due.” 

He pulled you around, hand still on your jaw, and shoved you back, making you stumble over a chair. You scrambled back from him, looking quickly back over your shoulder, trying desperately to keep from falling. 

“You don’t want to do this,” you said, looking back to him. “You really don’t want to piss off Joel and Tommy like that, please…” 

He laughed once, darkly. 

“You think they want you to themselves that bad?” He asked, prowling closer. “Nah, I don’t think they’ll much care. Besides, maybe I’ll just have my fun with you then kill you. Tell ‘em you took off. You already tried it once…” 

“No,” you shook your head, trying to ignore how your throat clenched tight as he drew near. “No, you don’t…” 

“Think I do,” he said as you backed into the couch. He was only about a foot away from you. Your eyes darted toward the door and you made the call, ducking below his groping arm and running for it. 

He grabbed at you but you dodged it, all but ripping the door off its hinges as you ran out into the cold afternoon air. Dusk was on the horizon and you were going to be stuck running from him in the dark with your hands tied but it was better than the alternative. 

You heard the gunshot a split second before you felt it, the force of the bullet sending you sprawling forward as you screamed in pain. There was a second of shock, of disbelief, as you lay face down in the dirt. You felt the warm wetness of your blood before you felt the sharp pain of a hole being blown through your body. You rolled onto your uninjured side and tried to assess it as best you could, not really able to reach the wound because of how your hands were tied. It was on the right side of your body, so far to the side that you thought it might have missed most major organs and just caught skin and muscle and fat. But you couldn’t be sure. 

You tried to shove yourself up, side screaming in pain, the wound pulling, the muscle ragged, but Vince was on you too fast. He shoved you onto your back and kicked your legs apart before kneeling between them.

“No!” You shrieked, trying to scramble back from him but he grabbed you harshly at your waist, his fingers digging into your open wound and making you scream in pain. 

“You’re mine now,” he panted over you. “This’ll be a lot easier on you if you just cooperate…” 

You tried to shove him back but couldn’t get leverage, not with your hands bound. A strangled sob slipped from you as you tried to wrest yourself away but it didn’t work, Vince just slamming you down into the dirt before punching you across the face. The blow made your brain rattle in your skull and you lay there, blinking in shock for a moment as he started to fumble with your pants. 

“Help!” You screamed, voice thick and wet. “Joel, Tommy!” 

“Shut up,” he seethed over you, trying to force your pants down over your hips. You ignored him, still screaming, legs kicking uselessly. He punched you again and you went still and quiet, head swimming. “Shut up you stupid fuckin’ girl. Take what I give you and you’ll fuckin’ like it.” 

“Joel!” You shrieked. “Tommy!” 

It was desperate, you knew that. They said they’d be gone close to a week, it had just been days. This was it.

Vince’s hand latched around your throat, shoving you down into the earth. You tried to breathe around his fingers but you couldn’t manage it, his grip too tight. You clawed at his arms with your tied hands and tried to gulp in air, your vision starting to fade. 

“Told you you should’ve cooperated,” he panted over you. “Should’ve fuckin’ listened…” 

You could hardly see his face over you anymore, the world seeming far away, when the weight of him disappeared and you could breathe.

***

Tommy wasn’t thrilled about leaving you behind. 

He hadn’t been thrilled about it before you talked to him. He’d been trusting Vince less and less over the last few weeks. He’d never been Tommy’s favorite person but he had decent enough skills, generally listened when Joel told him what to do and it was helpful to always outnumber pairs when hunting. 

But ever since they’d taken you, Tommy was questioning whether keeping him around was smart. 

Of course, he’d been conflicted about taking you from the beginning. He hadn’t gotten into this to take fucking captives, he’d gotten into this because it seemed like the only way to stay alive was to take. There wasn’t enough to go around so some people were going to have to go without. That’s just the way it worked. He just wanted to make sure the people going without weren’t him and Joel. 

Survival of the fittest, after all. 

But he understood why Joel had taken you. You had valuable skills, valuable enough that you were worth feeding and monitoring. It was worth it to go outside the norm for you. Even though he hated keeping you tied up. But he figured he’d wear Joel down on that eventually. 

He didn’t like leaving you behind like this before you’d talked to him about Vince and all but begged him to bring you along. You had to really distrust Vince to want to come on a hunt like this. It made him uneasy. 

So he was relieved when he and Joel had stumbled upon a small group of men traveling just two days after they’d left the cabin. It was a good haul, enough to set them up for a few months and get them through a stretch of winter. They’d need to head out again at some point - or just hunt and trap animals near the cabin if it looked like the ammo, fuel and battery supply would hold out - but they had some security for a while. 

“I really think she’s gonna like some of what we got,” Tommy said as they were getting close to the cabin again. “Think the books are up her alley and they had medical supplies. Legit ones. That’ll make her happy.” 

“Can’t get too attached,” Joel said, not for the first time. Tommy rolled his eyes. Joel glanced over at him. “I’m serious. It’s a risk. You’re gettin’ too involved with her and can’t afford you making stupid fuckin’ choices because you’re worried about her. She’s with us to make sure you keep breathing, not to be your fuckin’ friend.” 

“Here to keep you breathing, too, right?” Tommy asked. 

Joel was quiet for a moment. 

“Right?” He said again.

“Sure,” Joel said. “Right.” 

Tommy clenched his jaw but stared straight ahead. 

He wasn’t sure if his brother was cautioning him because he was worried about Tommy or because he was worried about himself. 

Tommy wasn’t a fucking idiot. He saw what was happening with Joel. He’d been there when Sarah died, saw the pain in his brother’s face as he held his daughter’s broken body. He’d clung to her until she went cold, on the ground where she’d died at first and then for hours as they tried to find a way out of Austin and away from the carnage of the outbreak. He carried her body until he couldn’t anymore, dropping to his knees on the east side of town with smoke in the distance. 

Tommy had tried to find a way to bury her, even just a shallow grave, but infected put a stop to that. Tommy had to drag Joel away, screaming and fighting him the whole way. 

He put a gun to his head that afternoon. It was a miracle he survived but, sometimes, Tommy wasn’t sure he really had. The Joel he knew, the Joel who he’d grown up with, the Joel who’d damn near raised him during his teenage years as their mother’s health declined, the Joel who lived for his daughter had died with her. In his place was the man he was now. Harsher, colder, and more like Tommy when he got mad than Tommy was really proud of. 

But things had shifted with you. He’d bought Joel’s reasoning at first and, in hindsight, he thought it was because Joel believed it himself then. That you were too valuable to just let go, that you wouldn’t survive long on your own so keeping you was a kindness. 

Now, though, Joel was attached. Tommy could see it, even if Joel couldn’t. He’d first noticed on a morning where Joel had been the one in bed with you. Tommy pulled a shirt on, you curled in on yourself in that way you did, and he caught Joel tucking the blankets in around your sleeping form. Tommy raised his brows at him and he just frowned. 

“S’cold,” he said softly before ducking around Tommy and leaving the room. 

It was the first sign he’d seen of Joel caring about anything outside of Tommy since Sarah died. 

After that, it was obvious. He wasn’t sure how he’d missed it before but, the second he knew to look for it, he saw signs of Joel caring everywhere. He stopped Vince from finishing the jerky he knew you liked best and set it aside for you. He made fires on nights Tommy knew he wouldn’t bother otherwise because you got cold. He saw you struggling to tie your boots with your bound hands and brushed your hands aside, kneeling at your feet to tie them for you. You complained the whole time, said that you were perfectly capable of tying your shoes if he’d just untie you. Joel just rolled his eyes, tucking your laces behind the tongue of the boot before getting to his feet again. 

“You know,” Tommy said. “May not be the worst thing. Getting attached.” 

Joel just huffed. 

“Just mean, life’s better when you’ve got something to care about, right?” Tommy pressed on. “What’s the point of fightin’ this hard if you don’t?” 

“Care about you,” Joel shrugged. “Seems like plenty to me. Just… Keep going for family.” 

Tommy was quiet for a moment. 

“She could be family,” he said, glancing Joel’s way. 

Before Joel had a chance to object, the sound of your scream cut through the cold air. Tommy looked at Joel for barely a second before the men were running, shoving brush aside and leaping over obstacles as they went. 

“Joel! Tommy!” 

Tommy wasn’t sure where he found the energy after days on the road but he pushed himself faster at the sound of your voice. You were so afraid it sent a chill up his spine. It had to be infected, he couldn’t think of what else would inspire that kind of terror. 

He broke through the tree line before Joel and it took him a moment to realize where you were, Vince on top of you on the ground. Tommy didn’t stop to think. He was hurting you, he was a threat, he needed to pay. Tommy tackled Vince, catching him completely off guard and rolling away from you. They landed with Vince on top but he was disoriented and Tommy quickly threw him to the ground before jumping on him, forcing his knee into the other man’s chest before punching him, hard, across the face again and again. 

Vince scrambled, throwing his arms up, trying to protect his head from Tommy’s blows but it didn’t matter. He grabbed one arm and broke it, feeling the bones snap under his fingers. 

“Tommy!” Vince sobbed. “Fuck, please! I can explain!” 

“No,” Tommy shook his head, his fist raised. “Warned you, motherfucker. Shouldn’t have touched her.” 

He ripped Vince’s unbroken arm away and started punching him again and again, the sick sense of satisfaction that took hold when he solved problems this way settling over him. There was something about using his body, taking control with force, that brought him a sense of peace. He knew what was coming next. He knew it could be the right thing, that he could protect who needed protecting, because he’d set the rules. 

After what felt like no time at all, Vince was still below his fist, his face a mass of blood and displaced cartilage. He wasn’t breathing. Tommy panted, staring down at him for a moment. It seemed like he should feel bad for this, somehow. He’d lived alongside this man, survived the end of the world with him, for more than half a year. He should feel some sense of guilt or loss at killing him. But he didn’t. He only felt justified and a twisted sense of pride at the fact that he’d protected you, even if that meant killing for it. 

For a moment, he was relieved, the knot in his stomach that had been there since he’d left with Joel days earlier easing. 

Then, he heard it. 

“Tommy!” 

His blood went cold. Joel’s voice was pleading and desperate. He’d heard him like this once before, just once.

“Tommy, help me!” 

He left Vince on the ground and ran to Joel. You were in his arms, staring down at your stomach, your breaths coming in shallow, pained paints. Joel had cut your ties, at least, and your hands were braced against him, your nails digging into him. There was red blossoming over you and Tommy stopped dead in his tracks. 

“No,” he breathed. 

Joel shook his head. 

“Gotta help me,” he said. “I can’t… You gotta help me, please, Tommy. Please.” 

You made a pained sound and winced, your whole face drawing tight in pain. 

“I know,” Joel said, looking back down at you, tightening his hold on you. “I know, I know, it hurts, it’s gonna be OK, I’ve got you, it’s OK…” 

“It’s not too bad,” you said, your voice pained. “Just… I think it missed the major stuff and I think the bullet went straight through, just have to get the bleeding under control and stop infection, that’s all, I just need…” 

Your voice broke off and you panted, the agony clear on your face. 

“It’s OK,” Joel said, clutching onto you as Tommy seemed to find control of his body again. “It’s OK, just tell us what to do, we’ve got you, it’s OK…” 

“Need towels,” you winced. “Gauze. Alcohol to flush it… don’t think the water here would be good, even if we boiled it…” 

“Got it,” Tommy said, running to the cabin and finding the collection of towels in one of the cabinets, gauze from your medical supplies, the highest proof liquor he could find in the stash at the house and ran back out to you. 

“Have to get this out of the way,” you said, unbuttoning your shirt and shrugging out of it on your injured side, hissing in pain as you did. You gritted your teeth and spoke again. “Need one of the towels, put it on the wound - both sides since I think the bullet went through - and hold pressure. It needs to be a lot of pressure, have to stop the bleeding. It’s going to look like it hurts but that’s OK…” 

Joel and Tommy maneuvered the towel around your wound and clamped down and you gasped in pain, one hand flying to Tommy’s shoulder, your fingers twisting in his shirt. 

“I know, I know,” Joel sounded pained, too. “I know it hurts. It’s OK, you’re gonna be OK…” 

You just nodded, staring up at him with wide eyes as you struggled to breathe through the pain. 

Tommy tried not to think about the night more than a year ago when Joel had said the same things to his daughter as she bled out in his arms. He tried not to think about whether or not Joel could survive that happening again, especially so soon to the first person he’d shown any kind of care for since then. He tried not to think about whether or not he could survive it, either. 

You, at least, stayed conscious and knew how to walk them through patching you up. This time when Joel got up from the bloodstained ground with a body in his arms, it was still breathing. 

He carried you, delicately, into the cabin, your head on his shoulder and your eyes closed. They cleaned you up as best they could before Joel tucked you into bed, setting you on your uninjured side and pulling the blankets up around you. You flinched in your sleep and Joel brushed your hair back from your face, thumb tracing your cheekbone. 

“C’mon,” Tommy whispered, jerking his head toward the door. “Should give her space.” 

Joel nodded and followed Tommy to the kitchen. 

“Drink?” Tommy asked, going for the cupboard with the liquor. Joel just nodded. Tommy poured them each a sizable glass before sitting across from him at the table. Joel took the cup but didn’t drink it. Instead, he set it on the table and turned it in his fingers, his jaw tight. 

“You OK?” He asked eventually. 

Joel sighed, staring at the liquor for another moment before meeting his brother’s eyes. 

“I thought it was gonna be like her,” he said quietly. “She was bleeding like she was and in pain like she was and I thought…” his voice broke. “I can’t watch someone else I…” 

He shook his head. 

“Someone else you what?” Tommy asked when Joel was quiet for too long. 

“Someone else I care about die like that,” he said, not looking at him. 

Tommy nodded slowly. 

“‘Bout time you figured it out,” he said. 

Joel glared at him. 

“Told you, attachment is dangerous. Saw why tonight, if I weren’t fuckin’ attached to her then…” 

“Then you’d have let him rape her?” Tommy asked. “Kill her?”

“No,” Joel snapped and then sighed. “But.. I wouldn’t have been afraid. I… I was so afraid, Tommy. I haven’t been afraid like that since… I can’t do that again. I can’t.” 

“You think I can?” Tommy asked, brows raised. “Jesus, Joel. You think I wasn’t fuckin’ terrified tonight? Think I broke a bone in my damn hand taking it out on that fuck…” 

Joel sighed. 

“Should let her go,” he stared out the window. “See if we can’t find a way to get her to a QZ or something…” 

“Yeah, because those are so damn great,” Tommy scoffed. 

“S’not safe out here,” Joel snapped. “And if we suddenly care about saving her, that puts us at risk…” 

“Don’t you think she’s worth a little risk?” Tommy asked. “You really think you’re gonna be satisfied with just me for the rest of your life? Because, no offense brother, I’m not exactly thrilled with the idea of having just your ugly mug around for the rest of my days.”

“She doesn’t want to be here,” Joel said. “Remember that? The fact that she’s been literally tied to us? You really want someone who you’re forcing to be there?” 

“Doesn’t have to stay that way,” Tommy said. “Lot’s happened…” 

There was a creak and Tommy looked up, over Joel’s shoulder to see you emerging from the bedroom, a pained look on your face. 

“What are you doing up?” He asked, leaving his drink and heading for you. “Need to use the bathroom or…” 

You shook your head as Tommy took your hand and you leaned against him, your body warm and soft. 

“He’s right,” Joel said, getting up, too. “You need to be resting…” 

“I know,” you nodded, wincing. “I know I do, but… I… I woke up alone and I just… it was like I could feel him there and I couldn’t calm down and… Could you sleep in the bed with me? Please? I think… I think if you’re there I’ll feel safe and…” 

“Course, little rabbit,” Tommy said gently. “Which one of us do you want?” 

His stomach clenched at that question. He wanted the answer to be him. He wouldn’t get in the way if it was Joel, of course, but he wanted to be your source of peace and safety. He wanted to be who you turned to when you needed someone. You looked up at him, your eyes wide. 

“Could it be both of you?” You asked sheepishly. “Please?” 

Tommy looked to Joel who looked baffled for a moment before he answered for the both of them. 

“Whatever you want,” he said. “C’mon, bed time.” 

The walk to the bedroom was slow and Joel and Tommy both helped you into the middle of the bed. Joel went to sleep at your back, Tommy at your front. 

“If we bump you or something and we hurt you, wake us up, OK?” Tommy said. You just nodded, curled up like a rabbit. He looked to Joel who just shrugged, the two of them climbing into bed with you. When Joel was in his place, you adjusted yourself back until you were pressed against him. Tommy lay down slowly, facing you and leaving as much space between you as he could. But you reached forward and tugged him closer, until his front was only a few inches from yours. Your smiled in the darkness. 

“Thank you,” you said softly, closing your eyes and relaxing. “This feels better.” 

“We’ve got you,” Joel said, his voice rough. “Take care of you.” 

Tommy wasn’t sure you heard him. He was pretty sure you were already asleep. 

***

Joel didn’t tie you up again. 

You were expecting him to, once you started becoming more mobile again. He didn’t mention it, didn’t even tell you to behave and not go running off. You weren’t sure if it was because he didn’t care if you left or he could tell that you weren’t going to try to escape them now. 

Things were different after Vince. Joel and Tommy had gone from being the best parts of a bad situation to the people you needed to feel safe. You had to ask them every night, for the first week, if they would sleep in the bed with you. They never said no, alternating between who was at your back and your front. You just liked being between their large, firm, warm bodies, enveloped by their heat and their strength. Nothing could hurt you when you were between them, nothing. That much you knew. 

The two men took care of you while you recovered. Joel kept the fire going in the living room and would carry you to it in the morning. Tommy read to you for a change and you drifted in and out of consciousness on the couch to the soothing timbre of his voice. They helped you change your bandages and brought you water and soothed you when you woke up afraid. 

It took a few weeks before Joel said he wanted to go hunting. 

“Animals,” he clarified when you tensed. “Not people.” 

“Can I come?” You asked quietly. Tommy was at your back that night, Joel at your front. Tommy held you a little tighter.

“Don’t know if you’re up for it quite yet,” Joel replied, brushing your hair back from your forehead. 

“I’m ready,” you said quickly. “I can keep up, I…” 

“Ain’t worried about you keepin’ up,” Joel said. “Worried about you gettin’ hurt. I’ll go…” 

He must have seen at least some sign of the disappointment on your face in the dark. He sighed.

“What, little girl?” 

“I don’t want to be here alone,” you said softly. “I know Vince is dead but…” 

“I’m staying behind, too,” Tommy said. “Not going to leave you by yourself.” 

“But…” 

You went quiet. 

“But what?” Joel asked. 

“But you shouldn’t be out there on your own, either,” you said quietly. “It’s safer if Tommy goes, too, and…” 

“Not doing anything very dangerous,” Joel said. “I’ll be back before you know it. It’s OK.” 

You nodded, even though you didn’t really believe him. 

He left the next day and you spent the whole damn day worrying. Tommy tried to distract you, playing poker and asking you to read to him, but your eyes kept going back to look at the door, waiting for Joel to walk through it and prove that he was alive and well. 

When he returned just after dusk that evening, you jumped up from your chair at the dining room table and flung yourself at him, your arms going around his neck as you pressed your body against his. 

“What’s all this about?” Joel laughed a little, catching you out of the air. 

“I was worried,” you said, voice muffled by his shirt. “I’m glad you’re home.” 

He was still for a moment before he held you close. 

“Me too.” 

That night, you made Joel sleep at your front and you pressed yourself against him, your leg hitching up over his hip. His breathing stuttered but you didn’t move. Tommy kept his distance at your back before you half turned, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and pulling him against your back. 

“Need you both,” you yawned, body finally relaxing after being tense all day. “Please, need to feel you both.” 

Tommy hesitantly enveloped you, curving his legs around yours, his arm gently going around your waist. You smiled, drifting off surrounded by the men who protected you. 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise when you started waking up feeling wet. 

The first time, you damn near panicked, Joel and Tommy still asleep around you. You couldn’t remember any dreams that would have made you react that way, it didn’t seem like something that happened just before you went to sleep. But you were wet. 

It wasn’t until Tommy pressed against you in the kitchen, reaching something on a shelf over your head, that you realized what it was. 

You were turned on by them. By Joel and Tommy both. They were large, they were strong, they were handsome. Their bodies were warm and firm when they held you at night and you started wondering what they’d taste like, what they’d feel like as they slipped inside of you and put all that wetness to use. 

But more than that, they were safe. For the first time since the apocalypse had really begun, you felt secure. Yes, they might have taken you against your will but they’d taken care of you the way no one else ever had. They were safe and good to you and handsome and strong. You wanted them. 

More than wanted. Needed. Needed to feel them closer, needed them inside of you. Needed them so close that no one could take you away from them. 

One night, about two months after the incident with Vince, snow was piling high outside. Joel and Tommy had spent the day chopping wood, making sure there was enough stashed to ride out a storm. The three of you sat down to dinner, pulling one of the last of the rabbits Joel had trapped a few weeks earlier from your makeshift freezer of snow outside and roasting it over the fire, knowing you’d be stuck with jerky for a while going forward. You had a glass of whiskey with them, not enough to get you drunk but just enough to loosen you up. Enough to make you focus more on what you wanted. Enough for you to forget exactly why what you wanted was probably a bad idea. 

Joel was at your front in bed that night, your ass pressed back against Tommy as your chest was pressed against Joel. 

“Think the snow is going to be too crazy?” You asked quietly as Tommy’s thumb traced your lowest rib. 

“We’ll dig out if it is,” Joel shrugged. “We’ve got enough supplies to last us ’til spring. Ain’t too worried.” 

“Just gonna have a lot of time to kill,” Tommy said. You could hear the smile in his voice. “Might actually read one of those books of yours, little rabbit, instead of listen to you read ‘em.” 

The cabin creaked in the wind and you pressed yourself closer to Joel, your hand going back to Tommy to pull him closer, too. You nuzzled into Joel’s chest, the hairs there tickling the tip of your nose, and breathed deep. Even at the end of the world, he smelled good. Rugged, with a hint of sweat, like the wood he’d chopped and smoke from the fire he’d built. You wanted to be closer to him. You wanted to feel him. You wanted - needed - to taste him. 

So you did. 

You brushed your lips against his chest and you felt his breath hitch as you kissed him there. You let your mouth linger on his skin before you pulled back ever so slightly and licked your lips, tasting the salt of him on your own skin with a small, needy moan. 

“Little girl,” he said, voice strained. 

“Yes?” You asked softly, looking up at him. 

“Don’t think you know what you’re doin’,” he said through clenched teeth. 

“Yes I do.” 

“You’re askin’ for trouble is what you’re doin’,” he said. “So why don’t you…” 

“I know what I want,” you whispered. 

“Yeah?” Joel asked. “And what’s that?” 

“You,” you said. You felt Tommy start to pull away from your back but you grabbed him and held him to you. “Both of you.” 

Tommy tensed behind you and you kept ahold of him so he wouldn’t pull away. 

“Please,” you breathed. “If you want me…” 

“Don’t gotta be worried about that,” Tommy said, a hand slipping around your waist and curling up toward your breasts. “But… well, we talked about it and…” 

His voice trailed off. 

“And what?” You frowned, looking between the two of them. 

“We decided that it’s best of neither of us act on that,” Joel said. “Too much risk of someone gettin’ hurt out here as it is, don’t need to add jealousy to the mix…” 

“Who said anything about jealousy?” You asked. “I want both of you. I want to feel and taste and experience both of you, please. Feels like I’ve wanted it so long it almost hurts, I promise I won’t ask you to choose between me and each other, I want you both, I want you both so bad and…” 

Your voice cracked, desperation both pathetic and obvious and you were having a hard time caring.

“Who are we to deny a lady what she wants?” Tommy asked quietly. 

Joel was quiet for a moment. 

“You sure about this?” He asked. 

“Think I can handle sharing,” Tommy said. “Worth the risk if I can get just a little bit of her…” 

Your heart fluttered at that. 

“Good,” Joel said, voice low and rough. “But wasn’t quite so worried about you, brother.” 

“I’m sure,” you said, damn near panting now. “Please…” 

“Then why don’t you be a good girl,” Joel said, adjusting so he could nudge you down onto your back. “And let us have you.” 

Joel started pulling at the buttons of your shirt, opening you up slowly to him as Tommy slid down your body to your panties. He pulled them down and opened your legs to him as Joel reached over to the nightstand and flicked on a flashlight, angling it away from the bed so there was just enough light to see each other by. 

“Fuck,” he said as he pulled your shirt fully open, exposing your bare chest to him. He reached one large, callused hand forward and cupped your breast, cradling the weight of it in his palm before curling a thumb over your nipple and brushing over you, making you moan. “So fuckin’ pretty. No idea how bad I wanted to see you like this…” 

“Even better here,” Tommy said from his place between your thighs. He ran his thumb over your slit, adding pressure when he reached your clit. You sucked in a breath in shock as you squirmed a little below him. “She’s got the prettiest damn pussy I’ve ever seen.” 

“Think she tastes as good as she looks?” Joel asked. 

“Gonna find out,” Tommy said, leaning forward, his tongue following the same path as his thumb had found just a moment earlier. He gently teased your clit with the tip of his tongue before pressing it between your lower lips, slipping down until he found your tight, wet hole. He dipped his tongue inside you there and he moaned, thrusting shallowly in and out as he toyed with your clit with his thumb. “Tastes so damn good, Joel. So fuckin’ good, like sunshine and honeysuckle and the best damn candy you ever tasted…” 

“Bet she does,” Joel said, bending and putting his lips on your bared breasts. He held you gently in his hands at first before he sucked your nipple gently into his mouth. He moaned with it and you did, too, as he sucked you for a moment trailing kisses to your other breast and doing the same there. Tommy watched, almost awed for a moment, before going back to your dripping heat. You moaned when his tongue slid inside you again, your back arching. You felt Joel smile against your chest. 

“Think she likes that,” he said. “Keep doin’ it.” 

“Planning on it,” Tommy panted from between your legs before diving back into you. His tongue spread you open as his fingers worked your clit and you rocked your hips against his face, any sense of shame you had long gone. 

Joel kissed up your chest to your throat, the brush of his lips and the scratch of his beard making you shiver and gush a little onto Tommy’s tongue as he ate you. He moaned as you did and Joel kissed up your jaw toward your lips but stopped just short of kissing you. You whimpered. 

“Not yet, little girl,” he breathed, reaching to cup your breast. “Want you to kiss him first, after you fuckin’ soak him with your come. Want to taste you on your tongue when I kiss you the first time. Think you can do that for me? Think you can come all over his fucking face?” 

You nodded, not fully able to form words. Tommy increased his pace and added a finger to where his tongue was working inside you, spreading you open wider, finding the soft places inside you to pet and press. 

“Doin’ so good for me,” Joel said, sounding a little breathless and needy. “So, so good for me. Want you to give into it, baby. Want you to give in to me n’him. Give in and come, give yourself to us, you can do it, come on baby, come on…” 

He pressed his lips to your throat just as Tommy added pressure to your clit and his finger was deep inside you and you started to come, crying out with the force of it as your walls fluttered around him. One of your hands flew to Joel’s thigh, digging into him with sharp desperation, while the other went to Tommy’s curls, twisting and tangling in them as you worked yourself against his face. 

“There she is,” Joel breathed and you opened your eyes to find him watching you intently, pupils blown and face lined with want. “Good girl, comin’ so hard for us. Just let it all go, baby. Give it all to us, we want all of you, all your pleasure, just give it all to us, come on…” 

Tommy ate you through your orgasm until you went limp. Tommy sat up, breathless, looking down at your exposed body for a moment before taking his place on the other side of you from Joel. Your half dazed eyes traced over his face and saw traces of your slick on his lips. 

“Here baby,” he said, gently cupping your face and tilting your head toward his. He pressed his mouth to yours and you weren’t sure where the taste of you ended and the taste of him began as his tongue swept into your mouth. After a moment, he pulled back ever so slightly, just enough to look in your eyes for a second before pressing his lips gently to yours once more. When he pulled back again, he just watched as Joel turned your head toward his and kissed you, too. 

It was soft and delicate at first but, as soon as his tongue pressed into your mouth, he became desperate, kissing you hard and deep, moaning as he did. Even though you just came, you could feel yourself getting hot and tight again. 

He pulled away eventually, looking across you to Tommy. 

“She does taste good,” He said. 

“Told you.” 

Joel laughed once before cupping your breast again, looking you up and down. 

“We overwhelmed you yet, little girl?” He asked. “Need us to stop so we don’t break you?” 

“No,” you panted, looking between them. “And… I think I’d be OK breaking for you.” 

“Fuck,” Tommy hissed, sliding a hand down your body to the apex of your thighs to just cup your pussy. “Think she can take both of us at once? Don’t think I can wait my turn…” 

“I bet she can,” Joel said, looking down at you. “You ever taken two cocks at once?” You swallowed hard and shook your head. “Think you can be our good girl and tell us if it gets to be too much?” You nodded. “Good.” 

Joel took you by the waist and pulled you tight to his front before he rolled onto his back, taking you with him with a sharp little squeak. You could feel the thick of his cock through his sweatpants and you ground yourself down on it, moaning as you did. Tommy got out of bed for a moment, just long enough to take his sweatpants and underwear off and leaving him naked in front of you. 

Your eyes went wide at his cock. Thick and long with just the right amount of curve, he worked just the head of himself, smirking a little at your expression. 

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Take real good care of you when we make it fit. Besides, not mine you gotta worry about.” 

Your eyes got wider, looking down in shock at Joel, who laughed. 

“We’ll make sure you’re good and ready, baby,” he said, pulling you up his body just enough that you were no longer half sitting on his cock. He reached low and shoved down his sweatpants before he kicked them off the rest of the way and you tried to get a look at it. 

Joel had another idea. 

“Here,” he nudged you so you were sitting up, your bare, dripping pussy on his stomach. “Get a feel for me, baby.” 

He lifted you just enough that, when he set you down again, your core was against the root of him. You gasped at the feel of him against you, so long and thick that it made your head spin. 

“Fuck,” you panted, your hands going to his chest as you started to grind down against his length. He groaned. 

“That’s it, baby,” he said. “Such a good girl, get me all nice and slick with you. Think you can make yourself come on my cock before I’m even inside you?” 

You just nodded, working your hips harder and faster against him. Joel moaned. 

“Good fucking girl,” he said, his large hands finding your thighs, fingertips sinking into the flesh of them. “Want you to suck his cock while you do. Gotta get him all wet to go in that little asshole of yours. Think you can do that for us?” 

You just nodded and sat up from Joel a little more as Tommy crawled toward you on the bed, working his dripping length as he did. Your mouth dropped open and you took him into it, sucking and licking his head before starting down the shaft, moving slow as you looked up at him through your eyelashes, relishing the look on his face before he dropped his head back and moaned in pleasure. You were doing this to him, you were bringing this strong, powerful man to his knees with just your mouth. 

“Holy shit you’re good at that,” Tommy moaned. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna come down that pretty throat of yours if you’re not careful…” 

“Don’t push him too far, little girl,” Joel said, rocking his hips up into yours and making you gasp. “Want to take all of you, can’t wear him out too quick…” 

“Fuck, her mouth Joel, Jesus,” his fingers went to knot in your hair as he started fucking into your throat and you swallowed around him. “Fuck, you try not comin’ in her here…” 

“Save it,” Joel said, sounding a little close to the edge himself. “Imagine how good her ass is gonna feel…” 

“Oh fuck,” Tommy said, pulling you off his cock and panting for breath. Joel kept fucking his cock up against your pussy, the thickest part of him working your clit and making you moan, your second orgasm building. Tommy cupped your face, watching your desperation as you got close to coming from his brother’s cock. “Fuck, so damn pretty when she’s about to come. Work of fuckin’ art…” 

“Tell me about it,” Joel grunted, sounding almost pained. “Fuck, you think she’s close? Need inside her, can’t…” 

“Oh she’s close,” Tommy said as you whimpered, the ability to form words far behind you. “You like what he’s doin’ to you, little rabbit?” You nodded urgently. Tommy smiled. “Good, good. Want him to go a little faster? Just a bit?” You nodded again. 

“Fuck,” Joel panted, increasing his pace, pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm. He pulled back just far enough on one stroke that his head caught on your entrance and the tiniest bit of him slipped inside you for just a second but it was enough to set you off, every ounce of tight need that had built up inside you throbbing and pulsing over Joel’s heavy cock. “Jesus Christ… fuck, gotta feel so fuckin’ good to be inside her when she does that…” 

“She’s so good for us,” Tommy said, watching you intently, his eyes locked on yours. “Doin’ so good for us. Just gotta do that one more time when we’re inside you, OK baby? Think you can do that for us?” 

You felt on the verge of tears but nodded anyway, wanting nothing more than to feel them inside of you when you came. 

“Good girl,” Tommy breathed. “Now do me a favor, get my cock nice and wet one more time for me…” 

You obeyed, taking him in your mouth to the root and letting your mouth soak him. He moaned, holding the head of himself in your throat, before pulling from you slowly and gently. 

“Bend over for us,” Tommy said, helping you adjust so you were down against Joel’s chest with your ass back in the air. He moved to be behind you, his legs over Joel’s as your thighs were around Joel’s hips. He ran a thumb from your leaking center to your ass and let out a low moan. “Fuck, every goddamn inch of you… fuckin’ gorgeous.” 

“You OK if we try to get inside you?” Joel asked, his voice low and needy.

“Yes,” you managed. “Please, fuck, need you, need you both so bad…” 

“I know you do baby,” Joel said, a comforting hand coming to the middle of your back. “Gonna start with me in your pussy then Tommy’s gonna take your ass, gonna make you feel so fuckin’ full baby…” 

Joel adjusted you ever so slightly, reaching his free hand down to lift his cock and line it up with your entrance. There was some resistance, the thickness of him almost too much to take but he pushed past it until you felt his whole head pop into your hole. 

“Oh fuck,” he groaned. “Fuck, fuck… Need just a second, baby. Gonna come too quick if we go now just… fuck…” 

You just nodded against his chest as your body adjusted to the small part of his cock that you’d taken. 

“OK baby,” he panted. “Gonna give it all to you now.” 

He didn’t give you a chance to respond, he just thrust into you and you cried out with the almost brutal stretch of him pushing deep into you, your tight channel rippling over him. 

“Fuck,” Joel hissed, his fingers pressing into the bared skin of your back. 

“How’s she feel?” Tommy asked, sounding almost pained. 

“So goddamn tight,” Joel groaned. “Like she was fuckin’ built to take this cock, my GOD…” 

Joel’s hand slid down to your lower back and he put pressure there, holding you in place as his hips lowered so his cock was fully seated inside of you. You rocked your hips, desperate for just a little friction. 

“Fuck, so pretty,” Tommy said, his thumb going from your stretched opening up to your tight bud. “Need you to hold still for me, can’t get inside you if you move too much…” 

You nodded even though he couldn’t see it and stilled, the thick, heavy weight of Joel within you burning you from the inside out. You felt a warm drop of liquid on your ass and realized that Tommy was probably trying to lube you up with spit. His thumb worked gentle circles over your puckered ring of muscle. 

“Anyone ever been in this tight little hole?” He asked, almost reverently. 

“One guy,” you managed. “In college…” 

“You like it?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” you said, breath picking up at the thought of it. “Fuck, yeah, I did…” 

“Gonna make you love it baby,” he said. “Now just relax for me.” 

You did your best to obey but you were already stretched so tight there it was hard to imagine anything else fitting inside that half of your body. But you wanted it. Wanted to feel both of them deep within you, the three of you together. 

Tommy pressed his cock head to your hole and spit one more time before he started pushing in. You whimpered at it and Joel’s hand ran in a soothing pattern up and down your back, the tight ring of your ass holding firm. 

“C’mon, just let me in,” Tommy panted, pressing harder. “Just let me in, baby, make you feel so good when I do…” 

“Relax for us,” Joel said in your ear, so soft you doubted Tommy could hear. “This was what you wanted, right? For us to take you, make you ours? Can’t do that if you won’t let him in, little girl. Just let him in, let us have you…” 

Tommy’s cock pushed past the ring of muscle and he sank a few inches inside you with a strangled moan. 

“Holy shit,” he panted. “Fuck, never… never felt something this tight, Jesus Christ…” 

He pushed deeper, slowly, gently, and you pressed your face down into Joel’s warm, broad chest, moaning and needy. You’d never felt this full, never felt this stretched, never felt this overwhelmed. Never felt like you so totally, utterly belonged to anyone else.

“Almost inside you,” Tommy panted. “Fuck, doin’ so good for us. So so good…” 

Another minute and Tommy’s hips met the plush of your ass and he moaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he did. 

“Fuck, we’re inside you baby,” Tommy said, his head falling forward until it met the middle of your back. “So deep inside you, fuck…” 

“Taking both of us, baby,” Joel whispered, just for you. “Really ours now, gonna take such good care of you…” 

“I gotta move, Joel,” Tommy panted, sitting up again. “Fuck, I can’t… I gotta… fuck.” 

“We’re gonna fuck you now,” Joel said, loud enough that Tommy could hear him this time. “You just take us and come on our cocks like a good girl.” 

You nodded into Joel’s chest. 

Tommy started to move first, pulling back slowly before thrusting in harder and faster. When he thrust in, Joel slid out until just the head of him remained inside your channel. When he pushed back inside, Tommy pulled back again. The men set the pace, alternating in perfect rhythm so you were never empty, giving you the mind-blowing combination of almost constant friction with constant stretch. 

It didn’t take long before you started to tighten around them, their cocks working your holes in tandem, filling you and stretching you and claiming every inch of you. Joel had to push back inside with a grunt as your orgasm built, the tightness of your inner walls almost too much for him. 

“She’s gettin’ close,” Tommy panted. “Fuck, already tryin’ to milk my cock…” 

“Think we can get her there,” Joel said, breathless, thrusting somehow deeper than he’d been before, making you gasp. 

“Fuck, need to feel her come,” Tommy said, gripping your hips tighter and starting to fuck in and out of you faster. Joel followed suit, thrusting in deep and hard on his final stroke. 

“I’m… fuck,” you panted, your insides hot and coiled with pleasure so intense you could barely remember your own name. “I’m close, so close, want to come with you, please, want to come with both of you, please, please, please…” 

You kept whimpering and pleading, mind foggy, as Joel and Tommy picked up the pace, Joel’s arms wrapping tightly around you, holding you close and tight to his skin as his and Tommy’s orgasms built. 

“Gonna come,” Tommy said. “Fuck, gonna… I’m gonna…” 

“Please, please, please…” You sobbed and they both thrust deep inside at the same time, stretching you to your limit, both throbbing deep and hard, triggering your own orgasm, walls clenching onto them tight and rippling over them. 

“Did so good for us,” Joel whispered softly in your ear as your core fluttered around them, their cocks going still inside you. He held you close, one hand on your ribs, the other on the back of your head. “So fucking good for us…” 

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…” 

Your whole body went limp, nothing but an overwrought, dripping mess as Tommy slowly, gently, pulled himself out of you. You felt some of his come drip out after him but he scooped it with his finger and pushed it back inside, covering your tightening hole with his palm until it closed again. 

“Belongs inside you, baby,” he said softly. “Gotta keep it where it belongs…” 

He collapsed next to you and Joel and you whimpered at the loss of contact. You wanted - needed - to be touching both of them. Joel seemed to understand, rolling with you gently onto his side and nudging you back into Tommy. His arms went around you and held you as Joel pulled out of you, a trial of your come and his running between your thighs to his softening cock. He pressed close to you once he was outside your body again, his cock all warm and wet against your skin. 

“That what you needed, little girl?” Joel asked gently, tracing the outline of your face with his fingertips. You couldn’t keep your eyes open, letting them fall closed with a contented sigh and a nod. Joel’s lips brushed your forehead. “Good. Gotta take care of what’s ours.” 

A/N: Yeah so this will almost definitely be a longer series in the future but this is it for now! Sorry for the wait and for the fact that it's completely unhinged.

Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for being here! Love you!

Taglist: @pockcock

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Mr. and Mrs.

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (18+)

In celebration of @oneforthemunny 's one-derful year, I wrote this fic inspired by this prompt. This fic is a fic of two halves, with an initial cute wedding day and then a slightly smuttier time in the honeymoon suit after the reception.

another highly requested, is a wedding. i love weddings and my guilty pleasure is wedding fics idk why, so give me that. you can follow the lore if they have it, or do whatever you want! proposal, ceremony, honeymoon- honestly whichever you want! where does it happen? what’s the details? who’s there? if you put vows i’m gonna sob so just fyi on that.

Word Count:2,490 (oops!)

Warnings:Cutesy wedding day fluff, Smut, Oral Sex (F Rec), Missionary position, Dirty talk, I think that's it unless I'm forgetting something; in which case feel free to shoot me a message so I can tag it.

Masterlist // Eddie Munson Masterlist

Eddie wasn't usually a nervous person. He was usually a loud, boisterous and confident person. That was until today. The big day. His wedding day.

He stood at the end of that altar in his perfectly tailored black suit, freshly pressed white shirt and tie, with the nerves bubbling in the pit of his stomach. When he thinks back to his younger years, he could never have imagined that something like this would be in his future. 

Steve takes notice of how Eddie nervously fiddles with his hands, a habit he’s got into whenever things would get too much for him. He would always end up twisting his clunky metal rings around his fingers. Although for his big day he had removed all his precious rings, insisting that the only ring he wanted on his finger today was his wedding band. Nevertheless his nervous habit didn’t leave him, as he fiddled his fingers around his non-existent rings.

Taking his duties as his best man seriously, Steve takes a moment to offer a calming pat on his shoulder, helping to ground the jangled groom.

“You love her, she loves you, don't sweat it, man. You've got this.”

“Thanks, Steve.” Eddie sighs, before taking one more nerve-calming breath.

The music starts up, and everyone in the church stands to look to you, 

You look like a vision in white, with delicate layers of lace, and tulle as you grace down the aisle towards him, a bouquet of pristine white roses and lilies in hand.

The music slows to a stop as you stand in front of him. His heart is beating so fast in his chest he wonders if you can hear it too.

“Y-you look beautiful.” Eddie stumbles over his words. He thought he would be so cool in this moment, but the moment he sees your face he can’t help the tears that gather in his eyes.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Handsome.” you smile, reaching up to gently wipe away the tears from his eyes.

You take his hand in yours as you both turn to stand in front of the priest, who is ready to conduct the ceremony.

“Friends and family, we are all gathered here today to witness the union of Edward Theodore Munson and Y/N L/N,” the priest smiles as he gestures to each of you. “The happy couple have chosen to write their own vows, so please join me helping to celebrate their love for each other.”

“Sweetheart, I couldn't believe my luck that when I asked you out all those years ago, you said yes. Just from that one small date, I knew that I never wanted you out of my life, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. You’re an amazing person, and everyday I fall in love with you a little bit more. I know I may not be the perfect man, but you make me want to be a better man, and everyday I try hard to do my best by you. Waking up to your face makes my world a little brighter every time and I promise to stand by you, and to love you with every last beat of my heart.” Eddie finishes with a soft smile playing at his lips.

You feel your heart warming at Eddie’s vows, he always had a way with words, and it’s no surprise to you that his vows were nothing short of heart-meltingly romantic.

“My dear Eddie, you are not only the love of my life, but more importantly than that you are my best friend, and getting to stand with you today in front of all our friends and family and tell you how much you mean to me is something that I will cherish forever. You make me feel so safe and loved, and I can only hope that I make you feel the same way. I promise to always be there for you and support you, and I can’t wait to continue making memories with you.” 

You manage to get through your vows without breaking down in floods of tears, as you smile brightly at your soon-to-be-husband.

“Now it is time to exchange rings.” the priest voices to everyone. 

Steve hands over the ring to Eddie as the priest tells Eddie to repeat after him.

“I, Edward Theodore Munson, take you Y/N L/N, to be my wife. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish till death do us part.”

Nancy hands you the ring she’d been holding for you, then the priest turns to you, to read you the same vows for you to repeat.

“I, Y/N L/N, take you, Edward Theodore Munson, to be my Husband. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish till death do us part.”

You each slide the wedding band on each other’s ring finger as the priest speaks once more.

“You have now exchanged rings. These rings are a symbol of your commitment, love and devotion to each other, and serve as a reminder to honour the vows you have declared in this church. It now gives me great pleasure to pronounce you as husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Eddie smiles brightly before leaning close to kiss you sweetly once and then winding one hand around your waist and the other to cradle your head as he dips you into another heated kiss.

You laugh into the kiss, vaguely registering the flash of Jonathan’s camera going off, perfectly capturing the moment.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t resist you.” Eddie smirks at you.

Yeah, you had definitely made the right choice. This was the dork you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

You and Eddie stumble into your hotel room in a fit of giggles after enjoying a few glasses of champagne at your wedding reception. The party had long been finished now, with everyone making their way home, and you and Eddie staying the night in the hotel’s honeymoon suite.

“I can’t believe it, we literally just got married..like that’s a thing we just did!” you babble in an excited breath.

“I know! And I can’t believe I get to call you my wife!” Eddie cheers as he picks you up and spins around with you in his arms and placing you back down with a kiss to your lips.

You turn your back to Eddie for a moment before looking at him from over your shoulder. His dark curls have been set free from their bun, as they fall around his shoulders. The tie around his neck has been loosened and the top button of his shirt undone, revealing a glimpse of the tattoo on his chest. 

“Unzip me?” You ask him, your voice dripping with a sultry tone.

Eddie wastes no time in making his way over to you as fingers work to slowly drag the zipper of your wedding dress down your back, his lips kissing softly against the exposed skin of your shoulder.

You step out of your dress, leaving yourself in the floral, white, lacy lingerie that you had picked out especially for tonight.

Eddie gives a cheeky wolf-whistle of appreciation as you twirl around, as make yourself comfortable on the King-sized bed. 

Eddie feels his cock kick up in anticipation for what was to come.

“You gonna join me or what, Mr. Munson?” You tease with a light breathy chuckle.

In a flash Eddie is stripping off, throwing his suit jacket on the back of a chair, until only his boxers remain. The material doing very little to hide his straining erection. 

“Who would I be if I kept my wife waiting?” He smiles as he steps closer to the bed, before leaning in to kiss his lips against your ankle, and trailing his kisses up your legs, and prying your thighs open to place kisses on the inside of your thighs.

His fingers hook themselves in the waistband of your panties a smirk.

You quickly reach up behind your back to unclasp your bra as his fingers teases the elastic of your panties.

“As lovely as these are, they've got to go.” he murmurs, placing one more kiss to the soft skin of your thighs before dragging the lace down your legs.

“There she is. My pretty girl..” Eddie almost purrs out as he’s greeted by the sight of your pussy. 

He makes himself comfortable, lying down on the bed between the spread of your thighs.

“Can I taste you, Sweetheart?” He asks oh so innocently, his big brown eyes sparkling with a cheeky glint as he looks up at you.

Your shy nod of your head and little whine of ‘please’ is all the go-ahead that Eddie needed before he was dragging his tongue from the bottom of your slit to the top, swirling his tongue around your clit before sucking it between his plump lips.

His tongue laps at your dripping wetness, eager to taste and to please you.

He gently slips one of his dexterous, guitarist's fingers inside your wet heat and begins to work in and out of you at a leisurely pace, flicking his tongue over your clit, enjoying the mewling whines that fall from your lips.

“Eddie…please..” you whine as you tug your fingers into his dark curls.

Eddie pulls away from you, his lips glossy with your wetness.

“Please what, Sweetheart? Can’t give it to you unless you tell me what you want.” he teases with a smile.

“Want you to make me cum..please..” you plead as you shamelessly try to grind your hips against his face. 

“Well, when you ask me so sweetly like that, it would be a crime to deny you.” he purrs before going back in to attach his lips around your clit, making sure to rub against that spot inside you that has you squeezing so tightly around his finger. 

He knows you're close, he knows your body as well as anything, and those tell-tale breathy moans that fall from your lips let him know just how badly you need it.

“That's it..there's my pretty girl, cum for me, sweetheart.”

It didn't take very much more than a few passes of Eddie's tongue lapping at your dripping cunt and his fingers hitting inside you just right before you were falling over the edge of pleasure with a wet gush. Squirting around fingers as his tongue teases your pussy gently to help you ride out your high.

Eddie pulls his mouth away from your glistening cunt once more, a lazy smirk gracing his face.

“You taste amazing as always, Mrs. Munson.” he smiles, enjoying the way that your new title just rolls off his tongue so perfectly. Like you were always meant to be his wife. Like you were always meant to be Mrs. Munson.

“Come up here, Eddie, I just wanna feel you, please..” you tell him as you urge him up from between your thighs. He takes a moment to free himself of the tight constraints of his boxers, letting his cock slap up against the trail of fuzzy hair below his navel.

He crawls his way up your body, his lips continuing to explore and kiss every soft inch of exposed skin. His kisses blazing a hot trail, up your body, stopping at your breasts as he takes the time to swirl his tongue around each of your nipples, teasing it into a hardened bud.

“You wanna feel me, Sweetheart? Want me to make love to you?” he murmurs between kisses pressed to your lips.

Eddie needed no further affirmation than your little breathy moan of ‘yes please’ before he was pressing his cock’s tip at your entrance, slowly easing himself inside inch by inch. 

He steadies himself on his arms, caging you safely underneath his gaze, as he gently sweeps the stray hair that’s fallen across your eyes. 

Kissing your lips once more he smears the sticky bead of pre-cum that pools from his tip over your clit, before beginning  to rock his hips into you, filling you with every pulsing inch of his cock. Sliding home into the warmth of your walls hugging against him.

“Feels so good…Making me feel so good, Teddy..” you whimper, the nickname falling from your lips so sweetly.

He continues to roll his hips into you, each time making you shudder in pleasure underneath him.

His large hand reaches out to find your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, his brown eyes softening when he sees your golden wedding band decorating your dainty finger. The reminder that you were in this with him for the rest of your lives made his heart bloom with love.

“My beautiful wife…I love you so much, Sweetheart…” he kisses you softly once more, letting his tongue sweep between your lips.

 Your hand reaches down between your two bodies, your deft fingers rubbing in precise circle around your clit as he fucks into you. The building tension in your stomach grows with every steady thrust of your husband's cock into your pulsing heat.

“Fuck…Sweetheart, you feel so good, swear this pretty little pussy was just made for me…” his raspy voice rumbles out, as he places a sloppy kiss into the crook of your neck. 

His movements get sloppier as he chases both his and your highs, his hips working to make you both feel good.

“Come on Sweetheart, one more, for me please, wanna feel you squeezing around me..” he murmurs, as his unrelenting thrusts continue to rut into you.

With the way your own fingers were rubbing so deliciously around your clit, and Eddie’s cock filling you so perfectly every time, it wasn’t long before you pushed over the edge, whimpering with a shuddering moan as you tightened around his length, riding out the high of your orgasm.

Eddie followed you soon after, his breath ragged as he pushed into you one final time, his hips still as he filled you with his release. Throbbing hot spurts of white into you, as he too rides out the high of his orgasm. 

You both stay like that for a moment, not bothering to move, just wanting to feel the closeness of each other. To feel each other’s bodies. 

Eddie’s hand holds your face tenderly, his thumb brushing against your cheek softly.

“I love you so much, sweetheart.” He kisses you sweetly.

“I love you too, Teddy.” you smile into the kiss, a warmth blooming in your chest as you do.

It had been the perfect end to the perfect day, and you couldn’t wait to continue spending the rest of your life with the man you loved so dearly.

@slutty-thevampireslayer @penguinsandpotterheads @xxhellfirebunnyxx @mrsjellymunson @onegirlmanytales

[misdre]

more fashionably late @may-blade stuff, all the way back for day 5 prompt "cards". in my language the suits of cards are called countries so. four countries, four kings, it's almost like i have a fic about it.......

this was surprisingly hard to put together, i thought it would be easier when i started but turns out i don't know how to plan what im actually going to draw and how it's gonna look like side-by-side when finished the drawing app i use really hates having lots of layers. or maybe my tablet just doesn't have the power for it

sorry for the ridiculous long images that work kinda poorly on tumblr. i didn't want to put them in a row individually because then people would scroll for like five minutes to get past and we all got better things to do

[toomiieimagiines]

Akito kissing hcs

EEEEK! i actually am a fan of akito!!^_^ i think he’s very handsome! tell me what you think about these banners! i’m loving it unfortunately… makes it so much easier to make ‘em! obligatory sorry for OOCness, i don’t read the story’s half as much as i should!^_^” (omg also i wrote this while drinking a diet baja blast OMGGGG it’s so good)

Akito Shinonome kissing hc’s + more!!

He’s such a bully!

He knows how much you love kissing him, and uses it against you…

He can be seriously unbelievable…

Like he will give you the bestest kiss and than just…. leave you there

Will give a super super mean oblivious laugh when you ask him where he’s going…

“Huhhh? I thought we were finished, I have rehearsal, y’know..”

Messes with you cuz he knows it’ll make you so so frustrated:(

He’s really not trying to be mean!! He just loves you so much, and thinks that your angry face is really cute…

I wish I could say his lips aren’t chapped…

Literally LAYERS on chapstick too. He doesn’t know why it never works, and refuses to use the heavy duty ones because they “taste bad”

Tastes citrusy, he refuses to admit that he puts chapstick on

Will sometimes also taste like coffee (He likes it sweet, please don’t make fun of him. He really did try to be a bad boy and drink it black, he almost threw up.)

Is kinda rough if he’s had a bad day…

Bit your lip a little too hard one day and it started bleeding… He felt really bad…

Can and WILL grab you by the waist though… He’s not heartless! He can be a gentleman!

He is NOT above the occasional cheek cup if he’s feeling nice!

Talks smack and all, but one time he followed your kiss when you tried to break apart…

He was really embarrassed… needed a couple hours to stare at the wall

He knew then that every dynamic he thought you two had was a lie….

another mini fic!! >_< sorry if my posts have been feeling short, none of the asks i’ve answered have sparked me with enough inspiration for something long…^_^|||~ reminder you don’t have to only send pjsk asks! i’m in almost every fandom… =_=

Sometimes you wonder if your boyfriend enjoys watching you suffer, and it may sound weird to say it out loud, but you’re truly starting to believe he’s a sadist! What other explanation could there be for something this cruel?! It’s been about half an hour since you’ve given up, but you can’t stop thinking about it.

“Babe,” he chuckles, relishing in your frustrated expression. “Quit pouting, you’re being quiet.”

“‘M not pouting,” You defend. Spoiler alert, you WERE pouting, but you can’t help it! You’ve tried to go in for a kiss three times already, and he’s ‘coincidentally’ not noticed. He has to notice! There’s no way he’s hasn’t!

“Sure…” He laughs again, and that royally pissed you off. Just that boyish grin was enough to make you faint for a million years! How dare he do this to you?! You let out a noise of annoyance.

“I’m gonna get you, even if it kills me!” You let go of his hand, deciding to stuff yours in your - well technically his, since you’re wearing his jacket- pockets. This makes his eye twitch.

“What are you even talking about?” He snatches your hand back out of your pocket, and you can’t help but laugh - despite the frustration. He obviously can’t stomach the taste of his own medicine, so you pull your hand away again - much to his displeasure. “Quit doin’ that!” He stops walking, deciding to grab both of your hands.

“Doing what??” You play dumb, mocking his original cockiness as you pull your hands away.

“Doing that! Hold my han-“ He stops, realizing what’s happening, “you’re petty. You’re REALLY petty. I did that like 30 minutes ago!”

“If you let me kiss you I’ll hold your hand again.” You offer, shrugging with fake indifference. He sighs, he feels like a dog begging for a bone. He shouldn’t have teased you…

“You make me act like a total chump, I don’t like it.” He grumbles, leaning down slightly to give you better access, you intertwine your hands. HA! You won.

You close the gap, feeling his lips against yours. They’re slightly chapped, tasting of a fruit you can’t quite put your finger on. Your heart immediately settled, enjoying the warm feeling of your boyfriend. It feels like you’re mad for eachother, the shape of his lips molding into yours perfectly. The two of you stayed there for a while, before you realized a full out makeout session in public isn’t the best look for either of you. But as you tried to pull away, you found a stumbling Akito following the kiss, almost falling on top of you. His eyes shoot open once he realized what he just did

“I-“ His face is red when he looks away, you snicker. “I didn’t mean to do that!”

“You love me!~” You say in a sing-song tone, teasing him.

“I-“ He sighs, sounding defeated. “I do!…”

He was spacey for the rest of your walk home, staring down at the pavement. All he could think of is how weak he is to you.

‘God, I’m totally whipped!’

[calmlb]

Hi Essie!!! Hope you're doing well! (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)❤️

So I had this idea for a sick!Dazai fic (that I'm honestly too tired to write dhehee), and who else is better to brainstorm it with than my fellow Dazai whump enthusiast? :D

Based on my own experience of being sick for the past week, I forgot how awful it can get. It sucks. You're feverish, your nose is either runny or super blocked, your throat hurts, you get headaches, you're lethargic 80% of the time, all that stuff. But what sucked the most for me was how hot my skin felt. Like, clothes were so uncomfortable to wear from the sweat, especially since it's still summer around here.

So imagine putting bandages into account as well?

Yep, awful.

So I present you with a scenario: Teen!Dazai in his office, has taken over paper duty (that Mori knows he isn't gonna complete anyway) because of his fever. He feels gross, to say the least. Flushed and hazy, a little nauseous and sleepy. But his skin- his skin is scorching, and there is no way for it to disperse that heat because it can't breathe. He endures it for as long as he can until he just can't.

In his haze, he scrambles to tear his bandages off, loosen his tie, and decides that he will lie on the cold floor shirtless. The air conditioner isn't enough. No one is there to stop him.

Until Chuuya barges in without knocking as usual (to discus the paperwork he also knows Dazai isn't going to finish) and stumbles onto the scene.

Dazai doesn't even acknowledge him, has already taken off the bandages around his eye and is halfway through tearing off the ones around his neck. His clothes are disheveled as he loosens them and looks like he's about to take them off.

Chuuya gapes for a solid second, before exclaiming with a blush-

"What the fuck?!"

He rushes over, trying not to look at Dazai's skin that's on display and stops him. He wraps him with Mori's oversized coat aggressively.

Dazai fights against him, exclaiming that he needs to lie on the floor. Chuuya doesn't get it, all that he knows is that Dazai is delirious, and even if he thinks it's a good idea to tear through his protective layer now, he'll definitely regret it later.

So Chuuya ties him with the coat and decides to take the paperwork to his place, along with a flailing Dazai on his shoulder.

I just wanna see Dazai giving Chuuya hell during treating him 😭 cuz even if cooling off is a good idea for a fever, not staying huddled in the warmth equates to chills and endless sneezes. Makes you feel even more awful. So it's gonna be a push and pull of Chuuya trying to warm Dazai up (in order to fight off the fever faster), and Dazai wanting to cool off (because he isn't used to being this warm and hates it), until they come up with a compromise somehow dgdhejndjd

Yeah, just a fun idea! :3 Feel free to expand on it hehe

PEA 😭 i saw this when i was having a Very Bad Day™️ & it immediately made it sm better tysm 🥺🩷🩷

UGH THE TENDER, FEVERISH SKIN UNDER THE BANDAGES ❤️‍🩹 where everything just feels like too much, i completely understand why Dazai (in his feverish delusion) would think removing the offending material would be the solution

Chuuya barging in and quickly going from 👁️👄👁️ to 😳🤬. i love that he goes into protective mode, thinking of how future Dazai will surely regret this course of action & putting measures in place to prevent that 🥺

Chuuya would wrap Dazai up like a sushi roll & carry him on his shoulder like a log back to his apartment, where he proceeds to lose the idgaf war & embrace his mother hen side (which he still denies exists)

meanwhile Dazai is kicking & fighting him every step of the way, acting more like a 5 year old than a mafia sub executive (he’s still only a kid sobs), even as he shivers with chills

until Chuuya manages to get a hand in his sweat soaked curls, gently carding through them. the coolness of his leather glove against Dazai’s overheated scalp makes Dazai go still… and then slump against the couch in a mixture of relief & exhaustion. Chuuya takes advantage of his compliance to make him agree to stop fighting him, & they spend the rest of the day resting on the couch, watching movies & playing video games (well. Chuuya plays. Dazai watches & points out all of Chuuya’s mistakes) 🩷🩷🩷

[noturlondonboy]

No More Excuses//Katelena

Chapter 18: Leave it to Nintendo…

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova

Chapter Summary: Yelena is accused of sounding like a villager from Animal Crossing, and her sentence is a trip to the nearest Nintendo store.

A/N: introducing Yelena to Animal Crossing was something I always had in mind for this fic, and I think it’s silly and fun. Hope you guys enjoy too <333 thanks for the love

Chapter Warnings: Natasha

"You sound like an Animal Crossing villager."

Yelena pauses what she's doing immediately and whips her head around to look at Kate, her expression scrutinizing. "I sound like what?"

She had finished her shower and put on some light makeup and sweats before laying on the floor and snuggling with the dogs, cradling their heads in her hands and talking to them softly in the cutest Russian puppy voice that Kate had ever heard. While it was absolutely adorable and she could die happy if Yelena stabbed her and talked to her like that as she bled out, it was also scarily accurate when compared to the Animalese the villages spoke in Animal Crossing. She couldn't just not point it out.

"You sound like an Animal Crossing villager," Kate says again, laughing to herself. Yelena's frown deepens, and Kate feels a strike of horror when she sees confusion on her friend's face.

"What is... an 'Animal Crossing villager'?"

"No."

"'No' what?"

"Tell me you're joking."

"Kate Bishop, what in the shit are you talking about?"

"This is a tragedy."

Yelena stands in a huff and strides to Kate, grabbing her biceps. "You're making me worried, Kate Bishop. What are you talking about?"

Kate's jaw is slack. "You don't know what Animal Crossing is."

"Kate Bishop."

"Yelena."

"Kate Bishop. What is Animal Crossing?"

"This is horrible."

Yelena looks beyond unimpressed. "Kate, I'm about to pack up my clothes and my dog and leave. What the fuck are you talking about?"

Kate suddenly spins around and grabs her boots and coat and throws them on. "Grab some shoes, Yelena. We're going on a field trip."

Yelena folds her arms over her chest. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what an Animal Crossing is, Kate Bishop."

Kate's grin is almost feral. "The best fucking thing ever created on the face of the Earth, that's what. Just you wait, beautiful. I'm about to change your life."

————

Luckily, Yelena makes no protests once they're in their Uber and she's able to press her face to the car window to watch the city pass them by as they drive. Kate watches her with a fond smile after asking the driver to take them to the nearest Nintendo store.

It's a beautiful January day, with a light layering of snow and the clouds threatening more where the cold sunlight isn't streaming through them. Yelena sighs wistfully, watching it all with a bright interest. Even without Christmas, New York City had a magic to it. Maybe it was completely different to a resident native like Kate, but Yelena was glad she could appreciate the mystery and grandeur of it all.

"Where exactly are we going again, Kate Bishop?" she asks after about ten minutes, finally removing her cheek from the cold glass. Kate looks up from her phone and smiles mischievously.

"The wonderful world of Nintendo, milady."

Yelena only sighs and accepts that her friend is going to keep being cheesy and elusive. She wonders if Lucky acts this way with Fanny.

"Do you have any idea how long you're gonna be in New York for?" Kate suddenly says, pursing her lips and tucking her device away.

Yelena feels a jolt of concern. "Probably a couple of weeks. Is that okay?"

"Oh, yeah! Yeah no, that's totally fine. I was just curious." Kate goes back to her phone and Yelena goes back to her window, and they both worry about what the other thinks of the whole situation.

————

"I do not understand, Kate Bishop. I have access to technology much more intricate than this."

Kate tuts and taps Yelena's nose, holding up the two Nintendo Switch OLED's that she was getting ready to purchase. "That's not the spirit of Nintendo, Yelena. Now come on, pick out some Joy-Cons with me."

"What is a Joy-Con?"

The archer's face is almost maniacal, like she already knows that she's won. "They're a fun way to customize these fantastic consoles."

Yelena's interest is reluctantly piqued. "Customize...?"

Kate tugs her around the crowded Nintendo store and finds a shopping basket to put the two boxes in before leading them to a glass display case, pointing at several other boxes displaying different colored controllers. Yelena looks them all over for a moment before pointing accusingly into the display.

"Why are the cute light purple and pink ones both left-handed, Kate Bishop? What if someone wanted to use both at the same time?"

Kate nods solemnly and places a hand over her heart. "Because Nintendo hates us."

The assassin's pout is downright murderous. "I will just kill this Nintendo, then."

Her friend barks out a laugh. "As much as I wish that would solve our problems, we can't go around offing people."

Yelena purses her lips and grumbles, spitting a Russian curse under her breath. "Stupid American laws."

"Isn't murder illegal in most places...?"

"Hush, Kate Bishop."

"Yes ma'am."

Yelena grouches about the color combinations while they continue to browse, much to Kate's entertainment. She gets distracted several times by Pokémon plushies and different brightly colored posters, and it's practically impossible to remove her from the Avengers section once she finds figurines of all the heroes.

"Kate Bishop, look! It's Clint Barton!”

Kate grins and squats down next to her, admiring the action figures. She knows she already has most of them in a box at the penthouse somewhere, but it's fun to see them still being enjoyed by younger kids. "Indeed it is," she says, looking over the packaged, pocket sized Avengers.

"Clint Barton, Space God, Green Guardian, Bug-Man, Goldilocks, American Dream, Spider-Boy, Walking Tin Can, Prosthetic Anger Issues, Sideburns," Yelena mutters, going over all of the figurines and naming them herself. Kate watches amusedly. "Sentient Toaster, Overlarge Housecat, Egotistical Pharmacist, Hottest Woman Alive, Captain B- oh." Yelena's voice suddenly falls flat, and Kate whips her head over to look at her friend so fast that she whacks it into a shelf.

"What is it?"

Yelena's hand rests on a certain box. "Natasha."

Kate's stomach drops. "Oh."

The assassin gently takes the box off of the shelf and presses her fingers lightly against the clear plastic, ears ringing. Natasha's face stares back up at her, the likeness that was somehow captured with a painted piece of plastic beyond mesmerizing. "Natasha," she mutters gently, heart swelling. The eyes, the hair, the mouth. Her Natasha.

Her sister.

Yelena sits there for a long moment, just staring and breathing and missing, hands trembling slightly when Kate puts a gentle arm around her shoulder. "Do you want to get it?" the archer asks, so soft and tender that Yelena might break down right then and there.

She nods silently, her throat thick and aching when she tries to swallow the tears down. Natasha, Natasha, Natasha.

Kate helps her stand up slowly and keeps a steady arm wrapped firmly around her waist as she leads Yelena around the store so the blonde can just look down at the figure in her hands. She picks out a couple sets of Joy-Cons, a few games, (including Animal Crossing, of course) and something else that catches her eye for Yelena before proceeding to check-out and completely ignoring the price as it racks up.

When they get back into a different Uber, she makes sure Yelena is buckled in by a window and then sits in the middle seat to hold the smaller woman against her, fingers stroking slowly through her golden hair. The assassin melts into her side, cheek on Kate's shoulder and eyes on her sister.

Oh, Natasha.

It always came back to Natasha, didn't it?

Translations: none

Kate Bishop counter: 10

This chapter's meme(s):

[chaosheadspace]

For the writer asks, for Library Boys!

2. How'd you get the idea, what kicked this off?

24. How did you celebrate finishing?

25-27 I would love to hear some favorite lines, details, and lore

28. Write a summary for it but badly

Hi TJ, thank you so much for asking! I apologise beforehand, this is almost 2.5K :)

2. How'd you get the idea, what kicked this off?

Originally, @notallsandmen asked me if I would write another enemies to lovers fic after Ill-advised things. By that time I had written a library sex scene for @staroftheendless's smut prompts (yes, the very one where Hob has Dream against the shelf, at least part of that). And I just couldn't stop developing headcanons about them in this AU, how they'd look, what they'd be like, what their background looks like.

I am very much a pantser, and in the beginning the plot was clear to me up to where Dream loses Orpheus and Hob tries to console him. Everything after that was loose points I was trying to connect. I remember having written most of it up until that point and the last chapter and thinking, "not much left now, I think I can start posting". Lol.

Everything that happens between those two points came to me after that, all of Hob's backstory (I struggled with that, he's been kinda hazy in my head), the very thorough dip into the mental illness theme (the bulletpoint in my brain sounded something like "make Murphy feel better and figure out what it is exactly��and see where it took me, two fights, a sex scene and a whole chapter focused on it), Orpheus's journey. This is precisely why I don't like outlining—I do better without. The pacing might be shot to hell, but tbh I don't care about that very much, I care about having put down all I wanted you to see, all I wanted you to know about these two.

24. How did you celebrate finishing?

By taking a break, by finishing the blanket that came with the fic (lol) and by going "I don't think they're all that happy yet" and writing a bunch for the sequel. I'm also gonna commission some art from my Christmas money this year (don't know who yet, but I've got a few scenes I'd like to see).

25-27 I would love to hear some favorite lines, details, and lore

Biggest fun fact that hasn't found it's way into readers focus (hopefully "yet"), is that Matthew is Jessamy's younger brother. At the very start I had a plan about Hob and Murphy being oblivious about that and them getting into a big fight only for those two getting them back together via shenanigans. But then Murphy demanded therapy, and Orpheus demanded screen time, and Hob begged for backstory, and suddenly it didn't fit anymore, tone wise. I'm hoping to fit more Matthew into the sequel.

Favourite lines is rather…uh… I mean, it's 90K 😬

I loved writing them kiss, every single time.

The opening to chapter five holds a special place in my heart (the description of campus on the day of the summer festival), as does the poor philosophy faculty member that keeps calling the stacks for books (this is really not how it works lol). A lot of what happens in non-Dreamling plot is taken from my personal experience. A lot of it happened to me, or to my coworkers. The library I picture them working at is the library I did my apprenticeship in. (I also detest Gorgonzola.) There really are people every year accidentally ordering a cart full of bound journals because they thought they'd get single issues. I always loved doing those and brining them up personally to see the face of the person that ordered them. Was worth the three quarters of an hour of work before and after every time. What I did not include is the small railway system we had. There were little waggons to put the books into, and they'd bring the books upstairs via rails on the ceiling. It's one of the coolest things I've ever seen in my life.

I loved this part:

He can suddenly see right through the thick layer of animosity like glass, and underneath it is a beaten, bloody, hurt thing."

And this one, because it's my Murphy, condensed into a paragraph, in all his confusion and hurt and love:

It feels good to have someone's attention on him, regardless of the kind. Murphy sometimes thinks he shouldn't encourage Hob's temper like that, should maybe apologise, and on his most lonely, sleepless nights he fantasises guiltily about making amends and asking Hob out. But what would Hob gain from that? Murphy has failed at marriage, the most long-term emotional commitment there is. And there is also Orpheus. Murphy loves him more than anything, but he knows that most single people consider children from previous, failed marriages baggage. It's the last thing Murphy wants for Orpheus, to feel secondary because of a relationship.

I also loved writing Orpheus deciding to go with Calliope, just because of how raw it is, and how true it feels. As a patchwork family kid myself, while not having been in the exact situation, I feel very deeply about all of this, and exploring why someone would let their child go, and why someone would encourage them to go, helped me tremendously.

This part I love because it shows the security that Hob gives Murphy even back when they were on bad terms, and just how wrong Murphy is and how deep his self-deception goes:

He starts to taunt Hob again. It's easy, so easy to fall back into it, almost as if they never stopped. Murphy carefully sharpens his tongue again and tries it out on Hob's thick skin. It feels safe. Neither of them mentions the closet and the hugs and Murphy's tears, and he is grateful. It's not real. This is.

This part is a feeling I have very often about emotionally charged situations bc I'm shit at them (the "oh fuck, the jig is up" feeling):

This is it, he realises, this is going to resolve things one way or another. Suddenly Hob wishes Dream had called in sick for a day longer, or two, or had stopped him two days ago when he'd walked out of his office. He can't stand it. He can't face it, either. But he must.

I'm also very proud of this, because it's the turning point of the whole story and I think I executed it rather well. It's the most revised part of the whole story, and the one that took the longest, writing wise:

"Wait wait wait," Hob interrupts him and all blood leaves his face. "What's this about deserving? Did you—Have you used me to punish yourself because you don't think you deserve basic kindness?!" He is so tense that he feels his muscles might spring out of his skin, so angry that he thinks his blood might boil out of his ears. And then. And then all the tension melts out of Dream as he sees him getting angry, relief etched into his face and rimming his eyes with red, and something in Hob breaks. This is the part of Hob he is used to. This is the Hob he knows and is comfortable with. Shame and grief so profound it settles in his bones creeps up from his toes and into his heart. He doesn't want that. He wants, needs it to be different. "Oh love," he says, voice thick with sorrow, and sits down next to Morpheus on his kitchen bench, taking his hands into his own. "Oh darling, no."

I'm throwing this one in, too, because I think I was really fucking funny:

The only positive effect this information has on Hob is that it makes his erection wilt like a candle in front of a blowtorch.

I also loved doing the phone screenshots of their texts with the secret emoji story from the evening before that played out during the phone call chapter, but I don't think anyone picked up on that. It was fun regardless, a nice little easter egg.

I am skimming the story for this and am only on chapter 16. I think I have to reign myself in a bit. Chapter 16 is also kind of a companion chapter to ch13 (where they get their shit together) in terms of emotional intensity. While in chapter 13 they had to painfully try and pull themselves together, to be honest and open even if it hurt, chapter 16 is the culmination of the new start they made for themselves, a little bit of "what if we hadn't been like that from the start" but better, because of course they have been like that, and imo dropping a weight like that lets people fly higher. A tender start would have been sweet and nothing else, but here they're conscious of quite a few of each other's flaws, and know the other is earnestly trying to put the work in, and that makes it as delicious as an overripe peach eaten over the sink, sticky and ecstatic and glorious.

This:

The giggle Hob has been suppressing bubbles up his throat, and he moves quickly to tap his index finger to the soft wet redness. Scandalised, Murphy pulls his head back, smacking his lips. "Bah," he says, taken aback. "Who does that?" "I do," Hob says, still giggling. "Worked, didn't it?" "You," Murphy proclaims, swaying back to him and holding onto his hips, "are the worst." And then he licks a long, wet stripe up the side of Hob's face.

I just love their silly. They need the silly. Even if I forget, they demand it themselves.

All the house/home metaphors I did for Murphy's life, and the sea metaphors I did for his mental health journey.

Also proud that I managed to still keep them real and make them fight and make up and not have them be happy lovey doves all the time (which may seem surprising considering all I put them through, but still). I wanted to be conscious of making their relationship equal, to not have Hob carry Murphy's issues but have him lean on him, too (although he's certainly the stronger one of them, emotionally. Carrying wise, I mean.), to have them give and take in equal measure.

There was also a short snippet of Hob meeting Jessamy, that would originally go into chapter 20. But it didn't fit the tone, and the chapter did better what I wanted from it without it, so it got cut. Generally speaking, there's very little scenes that got cut. I don't care about pacing that much, and even less if a scene is necessary or not. If it's something I want to tell, I'm gonna include it. But there's a few that took the story in a direction that I didn't like, and that I wrote quite early on, that didn't fit the story as it progressed. (notably, for the sequel, Orpheus finding a dog while playing with his best friend and Hob and Murphy adopting it.)

This one, for me, is the best sentence from the recovery chapter:

He needs—no, he wants to take it into his own hands, so that his happiness stops being a thing that other people need to give him."

(I also asked notallsandmen if the sex scene at the end is over the top, and they told me that not only is Murphy on antidepressants, he's also in love, and at that point I threw caution out the window and decided they can as happy and as schmoopy as I want them to be.)

Chapter 22 was entirely unplanned. At one point I realised that while readers have an approximation of Murphy's past, Hob still has no idea what happened :D

I also loved doing the Christmas chapter. I put a lot of thought in what celebrations like this might look for Orpheus as a kid of two cultures. I think some traditions would have been quite important to Calliope, not because I picture her as particularly religious, but because I think she would have liked to keep them while living in England. And I think Murphy would have agreed with her, because he wanted her to be happy, and I don't think that he's got particularly happy memories associated with family celebrations until Calliope, and he might even have seen it as a way to break away from his own family and his own past, just like his marriage in general had been. So the abundance of greek Christmas traditions is very much on purpose.

I also love any and all interactions between Hob and Orpheus.

This one, because it always makes me cry, even when rereading my own story:

“Hello, little sparrow.” He’s sure that his relief bleeds through into his tone, softening his voice to a sweet, velvety caress. Orpheus makes an indefinable sound at the endearment. “You've called every day for a week,” he says, unsure. “I did,” Murphy assents. “Thank you for speaking to me today. I missed you.”

Also loved reusing this one, even if it might be too sugary:

“D’you think it'll work out?” He finally says. “All of it?” Turning his head slightly, Murphy kisses Hob's temple, his cheek, his neck. “We try,” he says, gently. “We try and try, and sometimes that means we fail. But Hob, it also means that more often than not, we make it work.”

I also love the last chapter and the conclusion to bits, but sometimes I worry that it might feel like a haphazardly slapped on bandaid to some readers (which it it very much not. It's another testament to both of their stellar decision making, and it will come to bite them in the ass :D).

This turned into a very long and convoluted ramble, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless.

28. Write a summary for it but badly

I cannot decide, so you're getting all of them (yes, I crowdsourced):

Library 4.0: parkour edition

Dr. D. M. Olympiou's and R. Gadlings guide on how to regulate your behaviour in library spaces using real life negative examples, now with annex detailing the consequences for your private life

'In which library assistant Hob finds himself the prime subject of new subject librarian Dream Olympiou's study onwhether you're being checked out of the library or checked out at the library.' (courtesy of @sleepsonfutons)

Two insecure idiots fuck around and find out…that they’re actually really good together (courtesy of @edgedancer77)

Surrounded by idiots: The four types of human behaviour and how to effectively fumble all of them when it comes to your hot but asshole coworker (based on: Surrounded by Idiots: The Four Types of Human Behavior and How to Effectively Communicate with Each in Business (and in Life))

How to hatefuck your way into better mental health (courtesy of @reallyintoscience)

[memory-and-sky]

hey if youre still doing writing requests, could you do hobie helping ftm!reader with dysphoria? maybe helping him fix his hair in a more masc way or helping him voice train

thank you so much for this ask, anon! i love this so so so much :3 i tried my best, i hope you like it!!

word count: ~1.6k

containing: swearing, user is transmasc/ftm, user has dysphoria, hobie is literally the sweetest, i don’t really know how to voice train even though i am transmasc myself xp

the rest of the fic is under the cut!

dysphoria fucking sucks. hobie x ftm!reader

You were rotting away in bed again. Jesus, dysphoria was really kicking your fucking ass. You rolled over, checking the time on your phone. 11:06 AM.

The bedsheets were all hot, as it was a warm, humid day today. You'd been overheating like a dog for awhile now, but you had no real reason to get up.

Until, all of a sudden, you heard a window open, and boots walking in your living room. It was definitely—

"Oi-oi, love? Where are ya?" Hobie.

You quickly jumped up, pulling over a hoodie and pajama pants; your go-to dysphoria outfit, and greet him.

His gaze caught on you, and he looked confused. "Mate, are ya really wearin' tha' in this bloody heat? Yer gonna boil to death, hun." He walked over to you, and ruffled your too-long hair.

"Um.. yeah. I dunno, I kinda don't feel the best right now.. I feel pretty gross," You shoved your hands in the hoodie pocket, already sweating buckets under it.

"Well, yer hair is gettin' t' be quite long, mate. Wouldn't mind cuttin' it, y'know." He began to take his boots off. "'N I'd be plenty chuffed t'help ya with tha'. Jus'... take tha' shit off, love, 's too bloody hot to be doin' allat,"

You shake your head. "I-... I have.. pretty bad dysphoria today. I don't want to see my... my body."

Ah. Yeah, Hobie understands what's happening now. "I see, hun. Why don'tcha wear 'n oversized tee, and them shorts I gave ya?" He asks, crouching down to meet your eye level, offering a lopsided smile. "Go, mate. Be quick, yeah?" Hobie firmly pat your shoulder as you went to your room to change.

When you came back, Hobie put his closed fist out for a fist bump. You gave him one, and he grinned down at you, putting both his thumbs in the front belt loops of his pants.

"Ya look wonderfully masculine, love,"

"I don't feel like it." You sighed, looking down at your feet.

A shiver ran through your body as Hobie held your chin, and angled your face upwards. "Look at me, swee'heart." He examined your face. You were miserable in your own body, tired of feeling like a girl. "Tell ya what, love. We'll chop at ya hair, 'n I think I know a few tricks t'get ya voice soundin' deeper."

You glanced up at him through your eyelashes. "You do..?"

"Sure do, mate! Had plenty 'a trans bloke mates, even now," Hobie let go of your chin. "Ya still 'ave them scissors I gifted ya, don'tcha?"

You nodded. "In my bathroom."

"Let's go there then, yeah? Ya ready t' feel abso-fuckin'-lutely han'some?" He pat you on the back, still grinning.

You attempted to hold back a big smile, nodding. "Yeah,"

Hobie patted the cold countertop after he finished getting your hair adequately wet in your sink, his rings clinking and making a nice sound on the porcelain. "Siddown, mate. With yer back facin' the sink,"

As you sat on the counter, he rummaged through a few drawers, grabbing the trimming, layering, and normal scissors. "Oh, my good sir, what would you like? 'M at yer service," He bowed to you teasingly.

You rolled your eyes, smiling. "Whatever. Uh.. I dunno, somethin' that makes me look like a boy. Like myself. I definitely want it shorter," You looked over at Hobie, as he evaluated what would suit you best.

From your perspective, now, he was suddenly getting suuuuper fuckin' close to your face, and messing with your hair. You were surely beet red by now.

"Aight, doll, think I know wha' I needa do for ya," He finally backed up, softly chuckling at your flustered demeanour. Then, he grabbed a towel from over the shower rod, and wrapped it around your shoulders, so that hair wouldn't go down your shirt. "Hold righ' here, love,"

So you obeyed, and held the towel in place.

"Good boy. Let's see, now, hmm..."

You felt like you were going to explode. 'Good boy'? When had you ever seen Hobie call anyone a good boy?! Before you even had time to fully process that, he was getting close to your face again.

Hobie began to chop at your overgrown hair with the normal scissors, cutting big chunks of your hair and moving your head around a bunch as you fidgeted. But god, you couldn't help but stare at him. He looked so attractive when he was deeply concentrated, you couldn't deny it. Well, he always looked attractive, and confident... so effortlessly.

Hobie gave you serious debilitating gender envy, in addition to you maybe having a little tiny crush on him. You wanted to be like him so bad it hurt.

"D'you mind turnin' around fo' me? Needa cut the back of yer hair now," Hobie snapped you out of your daze after several minutes of him chopping off your hair.

"O-okay."

"Somethin' wrong, love? Ya seem kinda ou' of it.." A sweet, lopsided smile spread across his gorgeous face, and he tilted his head slightly.

You shake your head. "I'm just.. I dunno. I'm happy that I'm finally getting a haircut again. I really feel like a girl with all of this hair, 'n.. this was long needed. And I'm tired,"

Hobie chuckled softly as you turned to sit criss-cross on the counter, back facing him. "I feel ya, mate. Jus'... yer not a girl, 'kay? You've never looked like a girl t'me, 'n ya never will, yeah?" He began cutting your hair, combing and messing around with it. "I love how ya look 'n present yourself. Yer so confident in yer style, ya look real peng, y'know."

"Yeah...?" You blushed furiously, so thankful that your back was turned to him at the moment.

"Yeah, mate."

It didn't take Hobie too long before he finished cutting your hair, and thinning the ends out with the layering scissors.

"Turn around, love," He ruffles your hair as you turn around, now leaning in close to your face to fix your hair up all nice. He grinned down at you. "Ya look proper han'some. 'Ere, c'mon down. Look in tha' mirror fo' me."

So you hopped down, and evaluated yourself in the mirror. You felt euphoric, and just really happy with your new haircut.

Hobie placed both his hands on your shoulders, leaning over so that his head was next to yours. "You happy with it?"

"Mhm! Thank you so much, Hobie,"

"Say ya look han'some. I wanna hear ya say it." He smiled his lopsided smile.

"I... isn't it a bit vain? Selfish?"

Hobie shook his head, standing back up to his full height to stretch. "Confidence ain't vain. It's quite alrigh' to be sickeningly confident in yerself, y'know. I am. C'mon, swee'heart, say it,"

"I... I look handsome..." You clearly didn't believe those words, evident from you looking down at your feet, and mumbling.

"Like ya believe it. Look yerself in the mirror, 'n say it, nice 'n loud fo' me,"

You groan. "Hobes—"

"(Y/n). C'moooonnn~" He shook you lightly, holding onto your shoulders.

"U-um... I look handsome..." You sighed, smiling despite yourself at Hobie's adorable excitement.

"Tha's more like it. Gooood boy," Hobie giggled like a little girl as he patted your back reassuringly. "Still wanna learn how t'make yer voice a pinch deeper?"

"Yeah, of course I do,"

Hobie smirked. "Aight, let's sit somewhere more comfortable then, yeah?" He gestured for you to exit before him, turning off the light after you both left.

As you both sat down, Hobie was manspreading. You took notice of this, and mirrored him.

"Y'know how t'make yer voice deeper, yeah? Tha's pretty easy," He smiled, and demonstrated it for you.

"Jesus! That's unnatural," you giggle, but test it out a little.

"Yeah! Yeah, you got it. Okay, so keep tha' in mind. How you do that wit' yer throat. Don't force it too much, don't make yer voice too unnaturally deep, kay?"

"Okay..."

"Make yer pitch a bit more... monotone. Keep a plain, calm, controlled pitch, yeah?" He grins down at you, leaning in a little bit too close for a 'normal' distance for friends as he put his hands gently on your shoulders.

"How does this sound..?" You mumble, embarrassed.

Hobie grabbed your hand with both his hands, genuinely happy for you. "Yeah! Bloody perfect, mate! Awe, lookit you! Such a natural. A li'l louder f'me?"

"I sound stupid." You took your hand out of his grasp, groaning as you ran your hands down your face.

"Honey, no... you don' sound stupid at all." He gently touched your hand. "Sorry. Can I use 'honey'? Anyways, mate, you'll get the hang of it eventually. Ya don' have to use it righ' away, but... keep it in that noggin of yers, yeah?"

Hobie teasingly poked your forehead, and you couldn't help but smile, looking up into his big brown eyes, messily lined with black eyeliner.

"You, um... you can use honey. Whatever. Thanks, Hobie. I mean... yeah. I appreciate it a lot," You suddenly avoided his gaze, looking at the details and patches on his pants.

He smiled as he saw your eyes avoiding his.

“Awh. ‘n I’m happy t’do it for ya!” Hobie patted your shoulder firmly. “Yer perfectly masculine love, ‘n don’t you forget it,”

You smiled despite yourself at Hobie’s kindness towards you. How he was so caring towards you, no matter what. When you had came out to him, you’d been so fucking scared, and now… you really only felt completely safe with him. You could tell him anything, and even things you didn’t tell him, he’d gently coax what was wrong out of you with his stupid charm and tender personality.

Though he was sarcastic and cocky most of the time, Hobie could be really kind and gentle... which he definitely was with you, when you needed it.

[keffirinne]

You would look good in red / Victor Zsasz x OC

While I'm thinking to post more of my Roman x Reader oneshots, I managed to finish a few chapters of Zsasz fic that was on my mind for some time already. The story is gonna have 7, max 8 chapters.

I thought it would be fun to give Zsasz a GCPD officer to play with. He didn't seem to object.

Yes, it's gonna be smut.

You would look good in red / Victor Zsasz x OC (F!GCPD officer)

#Zsasz's creepy fantasies #blood #Zsasz being a creep #descriptions of violence

Chapter 1: Raid

Although it was May and the sun outside the window has already risen, it was chilly this morning. A cold wind, completely unsuitable for this time of year, blew through the open roof of the abandoned warehouse and easily got under Zsasz's tight-fitting t-shirt, reminding him that he should have taken a jacket. The air was filled with the salty and muddy river smell, resulting from its proximity to the docks, mixed with the metallic, strong scent of blood, resembling paint spilled in disarray, was covering much of the dirty warehouse concrete floor right now. When one of Roman's men closed the trunk with a loud clang and got into the car, the driver took off right after, leaving behind only dust and the sound of the vehicle moving away. And Zsasz. He was standing there, alone, gazing at the horizon. His breath had already calmed down and his excitement, shortlasting, started to fade, leaving him in his neutral, jovial state. For a while more, there could be heard noises of the engine rattling and the wheels bouncing on the rough road, but in time they completely disappeared. 

Avoiding the blood stains on the floor, Zsasz headed into one of the rooms that now served as a bathroom, since it had a sink. It got quiet, the recent screams and whimpers became only a memory that wasn't going to last long. The sound of his footsteps echoed through the abandoned warehouse, punctuated from time to time by the howling of the wind. Finding himself in the “bathroom”, Zsasz walked over to the tap and, smudging it with red fluid, turned on the water. Under the running, unfortunately cold water, he washed the traces of crimson, partially already dried blood from his hands, face, the tap, and started to rinse his knife. The blade shone proudly with its brilliance, having emerged its silver face from under the dark red clotted layer. Victor reached then for a cloth lying on a makeshift metal table and with surgical diligence, began cleaning his knife. He rubbed the tool for so long, looking at it carefully until he could see his own reflection in the sheet. As Victor was looking through the blade as if in a mirror and noticed a few dots of blood on his cheek, he washed them off with his thumb. 

The squawking sound of seagulls, making noise on the shore, came from the distance. It had something calming about it. Fishermans starting their shift, launching boats, just typical Tuesday. That's why when Victor suddenly heard a loud female voice close by telling him to raise his hands, he was slightly surprised.

“GCPD, you're under arrest! Drop your weapon and put your hands where I can see them!”

Zsasz turned his head toward the door where now was standing a small, blonde woman dressed in a police uniform and pointing a gun at him. He lazily wrapped his eyes around her and  stopped at the barrel pointed at his chest. It had to be a Glock 38, a 45 would have been too big for the officer’s petite hands. One of the typical weapons in the GCPD arsenal. It wasn't bad, but Zsasz didn't like its simple, even simplistic design. 

The woman reached his shoulders, but she must have been trying to make up for her physiognomic limitations with her temperament and verve. She stared at him in full concentration, a pair of determined blue eyes glared at him from under her drawn-down eyebrows. It was almost unnoticeable that she was afraid. Zsasz found this amusing and smirked out of the corner of his mouth, not stopping to wipe his knife. 

Only when several more policemen appeared behind the woman, each of them aiming at him, Zsasz's smirk changed to a small grimace. Reluctantly, he dropped the knife he just cleaned to the ground and raised his hands to the air. As soon as the blade hit the ground with a metallic clang, GCPD officers rushed into the room and like one living organism, began their activities. The petite officer he saw first approached him and pulled out the handcuffs. She efficiently fastened them on his wrists, not at all as gently as he had expected. Meanwhile, she started to deliver her procedural monologue.

“Mr. Zsasz, you are being accused of the murder of Alfred Gibbs. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can be used against you...”

Zsasz didn’t protest, the warm body of the blonde officer was a nice change on this chilly morning and to the cold steel of the handcuffs. Next, with nothing but professionalism, she proceeded with the searching procedure. Quickly yet thoroughly she inspected his legs, shoes, back. From his back pockets she pulled out his wallet and phone which immediately got seized by another officer wearing latex gloves and tucked into a transparent ziplock bag, intended for personal belongings. Meanwhile another of her colleagues was carefully picking up the knife from the ground, that Zsasz dropped, to pack it in another, identical  bag. Others were looking around the rooms, mostly interested in the red blood stains on the floor, which until some time ago had been inside the body of Alfred what was his name Gibbs. 

His officer continued the procedure with encyclopedic thoroughness. She searched the left front pocket of Zsasz's pants, which turned out to be empty, while in the right pocket she found a bunch of keys, including car keys. Zsasz was surprised when, after pulling out the keys, her hand slid back into the same pocket. He knew he didn't have anything else on him.

Before she realized what she was actually touching, her  fingers tightened on the elongated bulge in his pants for a moment. Victor glanced at her from under raised eyebrows as her hand undeniably grabbed his dick. As soon as the woman realized what turned out to be the contents of Zsasz's pocket, she shook her eyes and immediately withdrew her hand in fright, breaking her hitherto unwavering professionalism. No one else seemed to notice this minor incident, but the officer was very abashed by her mistake. Her face quickly reddened, which she wasn't able to hide until the end of the procedure. Looking in a completely different direction but Zsasz, she ordered him to move and began leading him to the police car. Zsasz stared at her shamelessly, and although she completely avoided looking at him, she felt his gaze on her, as burning as the embarrassing flush on her face.

As Zsasz passed a dozen officers panning around the warehouse, doing their ant work, he changed the object of his attention and began to wonder how they got here so quickly. And who gave them a heads-up? If they would have arrived only a few minutes earlier, and they would find him in a very awkward situation with Alfred Gibbs still alive. Although, the police might have had a problem recognizing the victim, since it's hard to recognize a man with his face missing. Not that Zsasz was concerned about being apprehended, he knew full well that even if they would find him with his hand in Gibbs' guts, declaring that yes, indeed, he just killed him, Gotham's blind justice by some sudden miracle would find his guilt ambiguous, and a few witnesses who would show up unexpectedly would shed quite a different light on the whole case, dismissing it completely.  This “miracle” actually had a simple explanation, and his name was Roman Sionis. Since he worked for Roman, he didn't have to worry about such impediments to his work as  GCPD. What he was concerned about was if by chance there was a snitch among Roman’s loyalists. 

When they left the building, his personal officer tilted his head, not at all gently, while pushing him into the back seat of one of the police cars. She herself took the passenger seat next to the driver and closed the door. What was a nice change, inside the car was warmer than outside. Zsasz stretched out comfortably, as much as his tightly fastened cuffs allowed him to. 

The car took off. Zsasz ran his eyes over the interior; it had been some time since he found himself in a police car, but he knew it well. He gazed forward, at the officer's bright ponytail, which bounced now slightly on the verges of the road. Her and her colleague were talking about something, but Zsasz couldn't hear any words, the noise of the vehicle was drowning everything out. His mind began to drift off into fantasies, awakened by the recent feeling of insatiability. 

He was convinced that he could handle the blonde officer easily if he were alone with her. It would be enough to press her against the car when getting out and put the handcuffs chain around her neck. She would clench her fingers on the metal, while squirming in place before he would strangle her. Her reddened face would turn purple and her body would slide down on the side of the vehicle and fall inertly to the ground, neck adorned with the bloody necklace. Or if she would lean over, he would grab the knife she carried at her belt.... Her bright eyes wouldn’t hide the surprise as he would be cutting her throat. She wouldn't have time to feel fear either, just staring at him dully, not processings what was happening. Hm, Zsasz was not entirely satisfied with this quick ending of both visions, he liked when his victims showed terror. Unfortunately, for lack of time, he would have to let go of this satisfying part. 

He immersed himself in his imagination, running with his thoughts further, to the GCPD police station. Being surrounded by other officers would make the job harder, but not impossible. Maybe if he stayed with her alone, for example in the elevator or in the interrogation room. He wouldn't need much time. Her body must have been soft and warm, like her hands with which she fleetingly touched him. Yes, he was sure of it. Even though she used weapons on a daily basis, her hands didn’t get rough. He wondered how long she would remain so warm and soft as she would be bleeding in his arms. 

A sudden, strong thought, like a cockblock, stopped him from exploring this exciting fantasy further. Roman wouldn't be thrilled to find out that Zsasz murdered one of the GCPD policemen at the police station. Reluctantly, he had to let go of the pleasant fantasies, which began to warm him more than the warm interior of the police car. He spent the rest of the journey staring out the window in boredom.

ao3: 1 | 2

next->

@thegreatwicked @daenerys-skywalker @supernatural-lover @dragon2d

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

I don't know if you're still doing the ask game, but how about 1, 22, and 25? For Jason, and Steph too if you're up for it :D

--Cologona

Because I could still find it: yes! Still doing this ask game :3 Sorry it took so long to answer!

1) Why do you like or dislike this character?

I spent like seventy years attempting to find the post with this meme on it so I could give credit lmao, but I could not for the life of me, so uh, just know that I'm remaking this thing from memory I guess???

Jason is the bee in my bonnet, the rock in my shoe, and I am chewing on him forever and ever - meanwhile I will enjoy pretty much any comic about Steph simply because I love watching her do her thing :3

But to go into more detail I really enjoy Steph's narration style and the way she navigates the world. She feels very refreshingly street level and hopeful. Also as someone who grew up as the only "girl" (trans man but egg) in my martial arts class which was taught by a detective with a very drill sargent/tough-love approach to teaching and got an extra helping of PTSD as a result... watching her struggle, get dismissed bc of her gender, and go on to become a great hero despite Batman and his bullshit feels really fucking good. Def love Batgirl 2009

Jason on the other hand is just so deliciously messy. He's hurt a lot of people, but at the same time his anger is super justified! He's intimately familiar with violence in a way that I think makes him unable to conceptualize trust and gauge what an 'appropriate' response is. There's been several times where he's expressed the idea that serious violence by him against others is just normal and forgivable and not a big deal. There's something so compelling to me about that bc I think he really does see it that way, and it comes from a place of him being extremely used to receiving violence and being expected to forgive and not hold it against them. That wall of text in the meme picture is a tiny fraction of one of my essays on him. He's got so many fascinating layers and I love peeling him apart and putting him back together like a robot performing surgery on a grape.

Sometime after I finish Chained, I really want to write Four and Twenty Blackbirds, which is a fic concept I've had for ages now that puts them together in a lesbian/gay man queer relationship. The premise is that somehow or other Steph comes back to Gotham secretly/early and Jason is the first one to find her and they end up building a weird organized crime/community support organization called The Blackbirds.

Not sure on the timeline. Maybe it'll start before Under the Red Hood? Maybe after a modified Hush plotline?? In any case: Jason offers to preform High Vengeance against Black Mask either for or with her. She does not want him killed! She would feel like that went completely against everything she died for. However, she does want that fucker taken down, and is touched that Jason clearly genuinely cares. Also I'm going to have Jason assume without question that she is fully competent and his equal. Unlike every other vigilante in town, she will never have to prove herself to him. So anyways she tells him that yeah, she wants her revenge, but it's gonna happen her way, and the plot moves on from there, as together they destroy and co-opt Black Mask's organization and establish a territory for themselves :3

22) If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to this character? Something you don't like?

Unless given a reading suggestion by someone else, I exclusively read JayTim fanfiction, which heavily skews what I look for and see in fic. I'm also pretty damned picky lol I write much more fic than I read these days

Even the most basic, stripped down version of Stephanie's core concepts and background ought to be enough to conclude that she would have very complex feelings about both Jason and Tim and them dating each other. She had a supervillain father and a character arc about learning to value the lives of even her worst enemies. Now her ex is dating a guy who had a henchman father and the same character arc in reverse, a guy who specifically targeted her killer in order to get back at the mentor who bears some responsibility for both her death and his own. They are so uniquely poised to understand each other from across this fascinating chasm, both in terms of approaches to vigilantism and dating Tim. You could not ask for a more fertile storytelling ground, regardless of if you want her to be supportive or not.

So yeah, for Stephanie I like it when she has a personality outside of cheerleading Tim while being vaguely sweet and quirky.

The bar is in Hell here folks, and out of the hundreds of fanfics I've read I've only ever seen it cleared twice. And that's only if we include my own goddamned writing. This goes beyond normal fandom simplification, especially when you factor in that Cass, famously against all killing Cass, gets similarly denuded of all internal motives and qualities in favor of being (sometimes literally) wordlessly supportive for no apparent reason, while in those same fics the male characters get to have opinions and internal viewpoints. JayTim nation, I am praying for us to learn how to write women, truly.

Now on to Jason!

I think of Jason as someone who is intense in every facet of himself. He can be cruel and mistrustful or tender and romantic, but no matter what he is I want him to be a little unhinged with it, a little too deep, a little too incapable of not giving a fuck. I want this man lost in the sauce, whatever that sauce may be.

I dislike him being overly apologetic, which practically translates to me disliking most fics in which he is apologetic at all lol I do think he would come to regret some of his actions, but I tend to think those would be different actions than the ones he's usually depicted apologizing for. For instance, I can absolutely see him apologizing to a victim of the Joker for not killing him when he got the chance, but I don't really think he'd have the framework to consider his fights with Tim to have been all that far out of line.

25) What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

Ohhhhhhh boy that was fuckin ages ago??? I'm not honestly sure I remember, though I do know that I read JayTim fanfics before anything else that involved these characters, so it had to have been based on that.

...Gah, I don't even remember how I found this ship lol! I mean I started with Boostle?? Maybe JayTim was in the background somewhere of one of those fics? idk

I suppose my first impressions were that Jason was a Big Mood deeply traumatized and lashing out bc of that, and Stephanie was gir waffles XD random rawr means I love you in dinosaur.

Anyhow, thank you very much for the ask @cologona! As per usual with these things I hope it was a fun read and you have a good day and all that jazz :3

[hylianengineer]

Another Percy Jackson fic from my drafts - this is kind of an exploration of possible children of Demeter powers.

A child of Demeter with an instinctive sense for the uses and dangers of any plant they come across. Mint and ginger for nausea, don’t touch that it’s poison oak, that’s a stinging nettle it’ll hurt if you touch it, that one’s good for basket weaving, hey that’s an edible mushroom, etc. 

“Here, this will help.” She wraps a few broad leaves around their hand. “It’s nicknamed the band-aid plant.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.” She leads them to the base of an enormous tree, grown over with moss and kudzu vines. Reaching out a hand, she beckons to the vines to grow towards her until they’ve formed a dense curtain around the base of the tree. She sweeps a section of leaves aside: “Go on in, I’ll just finish up the camouflage out here before I join you.” 

“Why are you eating random vegetation?”  

“I’m not. These are wood sorrel, you see them all the time around here.” 

They sit with their back up against the concrete wall of their shelter- a drainage pipe almost large enough to stand up in. “We’re gonna have to risk a supply run before long. We’re almost out of food,” they warn as they cut open one of the four remaining cans- spaghetti o’s again, they note with disappointment. Cheap pasta is all well and good, but the canned stuff is unpleasant when it’s cold. Slimy.  

“Hold your pegasi, I’ve got a better idea.” Her eyes glint mischievously, and they’re certain that whatever this plan is, she knows they won’t like it. 

“Your ideas make me nervous.” 

“Just trust me.” She unfolds herself from the mossy ground and brushes the twigs from her jeans. “I’ll be back soon.” 

Sighing, their friend settles in to wait. Her plans can get a little out of control sometimes, but once she’s got an idea in her head there’s nothing to do but brace yourself. 

She returns an hour later and flings her backpack to the ground between them, already unzipping it and talking a mile a minute. “This is even better than I’d hoped for- walnuts, blackberries, wild leeks!” 

They eye the heap of plants dubiously- other than blackberries, they recognize none of it. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” 

“Of course, I’ve been doing this with my mom for years - my other mom, not Demeter. She’s an expert on foraging, and pardon my ego but I’m no rookie either. It’s safe, I promise.” And to demonstrate, she bites into something from her haul- a broad-leafed plant with a long, deep pink root.  

Cautiously, they follow suit, taking a tiny bite from the root end. It tastes like an overwhelming version of garlic, like fire on their tongue, and they try to swallow it as quickly as possible so as not to taste it more than necessary. “Gah, what is that?” 

She's still munching away at the thing, apparently not bothered by its heat, and she looks amused by their reaction. “Ramps, also called wild leek. Sorry, should’ve warned you they’re strong - kinda a love it or hate it sort of plant. Here, have some blackberries.” 

They take a handful of berries, grateful for anything they can recognize, and pop one into their mouth – juicy, sweet, and perfectly ripe. 

“This is nice and all, but I don’t think berries are gonna put much of a dent in my appetite.” 

“Oh! That’s what the nuts are for- I should’ve led with that.” She pulls yellow-green spheres from the bottom of her bag- they don’t look like any nuts they’ve ever seen. “We’ve got walnuts and butternuts, just gotta crack them first. Here, I’ll show you.”  

They watch as she carefully peels off the soft outer layer with her fingers- “Careful, this stuff will stain your clothes AND your skin”- it’s thick and fleshy, not at all something one expects to see around a walnut. But beneath it is the familiar hard shell, which she breaks open by smashing it with the hilt of her dagger. “And that’s all there is to it. Dig in.” She tosses one half of the nut in her mouth and offers them the other, they take it gratefully, relieved to taste something familiar amongst all these strange plants she seems to know like the back of her hand. Then they take out their own knife and start cracking shells with all the enthusiasm of someone who’s been eating canned ravioli cold for the past two days. Since, you know, they have. 

[rescue-ram]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 🤍

@marley-manson also tagged me!!! Love to ya both 💕

I'm gonna go ahead and shout out my Trapper Epic The Courage to Be. It's in progress but I'm really excited and proud of it. The first chapter I think is some of my best writing, it's coming along well, and I have sooo many ideas for it. I want to write the Trapper fic I've always wanted to read, and I'm trying to get into some deeper themes. It looks at Trapper as a closeted gay man, who's year at the 4077th is both the happiest he's ever been (he's in love, the atmosphere is so weird he can let down his guard and be more "gay" than at home, he learns doesn't have to prove anything) and the worst year of his life (the obvious reasons!!) And then he loses all of that... it's about to get really good y'all and I already think it's pretty damn good :3

Of my other two published MASH fics I'm gonna link The Time Has Come For Us to Say Sayonara. Absolute shout-out to TrapHawk HotFerret for unlocking my Id Vortex (which is funny bc no one has sex in that fic) but it's so weird lol. Sayonara was fun to write because it was a slightly different headcanon of what happened to Trapper than I'll be writing in Courage, and it's always fun to look at the way MASH shifted from S3 to S11. It's got a good mix of feels, from humor to angst to romance. I think a lot of peeps will like it.

I really like a lot of my X-Men fic, it was hard to pick two.

Manifiesta deserves a shout out. It's set in an imaginary peaceful future, and is a mix of "Disaster Summers Family" humor fluff and intergenerational trauma angst. It was my first time writing Alex and I think it's good- Alex's daughter manifests her powers, and everyone gets together to celebrate, and Alex slowly gets pushed to a break down as he tries to deal with all of the extremely mixed emotions the event raises. If you like messy family dynamics, give it a read.

In The Bleak Midwinter is a Christmas fic, weaving three short stories together. It contrasts Logan and Scott's relationships with their brothers with their relationship with each other. There's some strong religious themes that I thought were nuanced and had fun exploring. Again, I'm really proud of the first chapter, and I put some work into making sure there was a continuity of imagery between the chapters to highlight the contrasts. I think there's a lot of feels and angst, as well as familial warmth and "neither platonic nor romantic but a secret third thing" to be felt in this fic.

I'm gonna cheat slightly and half rec two of my Rescue Bots fics.

The Rites series came to me fully formed in a fucking fugue state, and every two years or so I contemplate the orb and write another chapter. It's very canon compliant and a look at a human-nonhuman, mortal-immortal relationship, with a lot of world building fleshing out the source material. I think the second installment is strongest. However I can't go nuts about this fic, because I have to ponder the orb again and finish it...

a child of god, much like yourself is a complete stand alone story. It encapsulates a lot of my headcanons about pre-war Cybertron, in the form of a love story between a man and his deeply profoundly flawed God. It's literally about the implications of a caste based society divided between a purpose built slave caste and nsturally occuring life, and the revelation that there's no difference between the two but nothing the two POV characters can do about that, and more metaphorically about what it means to be human. HOWEVER you probably have to be on 8 layers of Transformers lore to understand it XD I hope that doesn't put anyone curious off from trying it- as someone who's first piece of Transformers media was LITERALLY Eugenesis I know something about jumping into this fandom with both feet... but I also know this is a Lore Dense fic, lol.

[bookshelf-dust]

hii<3 could you write a fic with Gareth and reader going ice skating and none of the two know how to and keep falling?

(also, how are you doing? have you had anything to drink?<33)

this was your idea.

gareth emerson x gn!reader

word count: 926

warnings: swearing, flirting, gareth being a little shit, brief mention of a potential skating accident (doesn’t actually happen), two idiots that can’t skate, fluff

a/n: hi!! i was quite stressed earlier today because i’ve got severe social anxiety and i had to go out to eat, but i did it and then i got a book! so as of now i’m okay. long car ride and rewatching a movie and writing this for you. i had something to drink at lunch but that’s all. i’ll get something later i swear! (how are you? hope you’re okay my sweet!!) thank you for your request!! this is super precious. also i’ve never actually been ice skating, so i hope this turned out okay!!

————

“Get your coat, Gareth.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Gareth fucking Emerson. Get your coat, or I’m leaving your ass here.”

“Whatever you say, mom.”

That earned him a smack on the back of his head, curls bouncing as he tried to dodge your attack too late.

When you got to the rink, however, he changed his tone. He’d thought that since it was indoors, he’d be just fine.

“It’s fucking freezing in here, holy shit, are you kidding?”

“This was your idea, Gare. Your idea. But I bet you’re glad you brought your coat now, huh?”

Gareth stuck his tongue out at you like a child.

“I have no idea why I’m with you right now.”

He rolled his eyes, scooting closer to you in your place in line. His hands rubbed up and down your sides.

“Because I look like this.” He gestured to himself and you removed his hands from your hips.

He grinned at your annoyance. You moved up with the crowd, hoping to shoo him away.

“And because I love you. Thank you for coming with me.”

He kissed your shoulder, thought that was kind of a stretch considering the variety of layers between his mouth and your skin. It was cold in Hawkins, and very cold in this ice rink.

He stepped ahead of you once the counter was in view, retrieving your skates and paying for your hour long time ticket.

Then the both of you listened to the tired assistant manager tell you the same safety speech she’d told everyone else all day, and all week, and that she’d tell for the rest of the month.

You plopped down on a rickety bench to put on your skates. When you’d finished knotting the laces, you looked up at Gareth.

His head was bent and you watched as he finished his own tying.

Suddenly he looked up at you, panic in his eyes. “Why’d I say I wanted to do this? Have you looked at these things? What if I fall out there and someone skates by and slices my fucking nose off?”

You laughed at his distress, though having thought about the same thing on the way.

“Then I guess you won’t have a nose anymore.”

He scoffed at you and then pouted.

“That is not helping.”

You brought your hand to his face, pushing a naughty curl behind his ear. You drug your thumb across his bottom lip, then over the crease between his brows, smoothing the pout away.

“Sweetheart, you’re gonna be fine. Besides, if it happened that often, this place wouldn’t be open.”

Gareth had been calming down before you threw that out into the world. But you were pulling him up and out to the rink, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Gareth Emerson made it about ten feet before he fell on his ass.

It didn’t matter, considering half of the rest of the people were laughing at their exact same predicaments, but it was also partially his fault for assuming he’d be automatically great.

If I can roller skate, then I can figure this out too. You told yourself, holding onto the side rail and gently moving yourself along, trying to glide like you saw the other, more experienced skaters doing.

You reached behind you for Gareth’s hand, only to turn and see him on the ice.

Helping him up, you offered him a cold kiss to the cheek to soothe the embarrassment, though you only made it a little further before you found yourself slipping.

Gareth caught you though, almost like a trust fall, laughing and tossing his head back.

He looked ethereal every time he did that.

“Careful, baby. You’re like Bambi.”

“Bite me.”

A little further, and Gareth was down again. This time, you found yourself laughing, realizing you both sucked as at this, and there really was no reason to be embarrassed when everyone else was having the same problem.

He begged to hold your hand, though you refused, telling him that he “would not be taking you down with him.”

Not that that prevented anything. You passed a little girl doing full on spins, and you paused in awe, slightly because you’d managed to get the foot movement down to keep yourself up, but also because who the fuck can just do that?

Behind you, Gareth was not doing so well. He slipped again, grabbing hold of your shirt for purchase, and then you were both on the ice, palms read and chests heaving with laughter.

“Thanks dumbass!” You shouted at him, though there was no real anger in your voice.

Eventually, the both of you got back up, though you were sure your knees were trashed now because of it.

From then on, you decided to hold his hand and work together. Shockingly, it kinda worked.

You moved along, making one full loop around the rink without falling.

In the midst of contemplating how hockey players just did this shit all the time, Gareth looked over at you.

“I think I bruised my ass.”

His comment took you by surprise and you cackled, though you slipped, and went down once again.

When your hour was up, and you’d both fallen numerous more times, you found yourselves outside, cups of hot chocolate in your hands.

You sat down, though wincing as you did so. You were totally not in shape.

“Gonna sit with me, Gare?”

He shook his head. “Uh uh. No way. I wasn’t kidding. I’m not gonna be able to sit for a week.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[marionvonwolfstadt]

I just read Pretending part 2 and I have a bunch of thoughts: This is just pure angst poor JB! The forever second lead! like all these years together and he almost never felt secure in his relationship with Nico more like didn’t believe that nico would stay with him even after their marriage and having a daughter :( Lewis living rent free in mind. His self esteem taking multiple hits “Jens could be loved a little less” this is making me sad

I would love to see a Nico pov, did he really settle for JB? I want to believe that he moved on from Lewis but… One day my man JB is gonna snap and the convo these two will be having…

Like did he not realize his husband insecurities about his place in Nico’s life (re: was thinking that he might leave their life together if Lewis showed a bit of interest in him)

Loved the fic

I'm happy you loved it even if it was very angsty. It was just a short snippet and well, I focused on just one aspect of them and their relationship which is a lot more complicated and layered. This was a moment for Jenson, the cocktail of emotions and high of his rut ending made him more vulnerable for sure, the morning when he both had Nico completly to himself a stark contrast to the times when he doubted everything and that kickstarted it really, that thought spiral. While he still has those habits when he checks for Nico's presence most times it isn't at the forefront of his mind all the time, he doesn't focus on it so intently, he just lives, he's happy.

I think Nico knows Jenson is aware of how deep his love for Lewis was and still is, but because Jenson hates talking about it, bringing it up at all, Nico lives in understanding that Jens is sure that whatever they build together is enough for Nico. After all, it was Jenson who helped Nico when he was at his lowest in relationship with Lewis.

It is almost like they both are sort of second choice, Jenson knows if things were different Nico would be with Lewis. Nico suspects that Jenson could find someone head over heels for him but he chose Nico, with all his faults, forgoing conciously putting himself first. In the end, they are together and activly making it the best relationship they could, even if both of them longs for something else sometimes. Nico loves Jens, but more I think, he loves how JB loves him.

As Jens summed it up, they make it work and Nico is not going anywhere.

(ps. I never thought I would get so involved in those two, maybe when I finish SebMark fic and have an idea for them I'd write some more, if you want smth specific you can always hit me up anon, even if I don't respond right way ;))