#if she says it's nothing then it's taken care of

[jazzyoranges]

Sam carpenter x reader with the song birds of a feather by Billie eilish maybe friends to lovers

Birds of a Feather

Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: you and Sam are best friends. until you aren’t

Words: 8k

A/n: ok we kinda went off script with this one but i’d describe this as friends to lovers with a few bumps. is friends to not friends to lovers a trope?

A/n 2: i have something to confess. i’ve never seen scream 5. that might be very evident in this

Warnings: intoxication, usage of drugs, Richie Kirsch, Sam deals with some hard shit, crying, ghostface aftermath, not a warning but Tara is a cutie, mention of a dead parent, maybe ooc sam cause i’ve never written for her and probably should’ve made a less lengthy fic so i could get a feel for her character but wtv 🤷‍♀️

“Hey- What the heck! What was that for, Sam!?” The young boy yells when Sam pushes him off the swing

“You jerk broke my friend’s crayons. She really liked them!” Sam points a finger at the boy, who’s now dusting himself off

“Yeah? What’re you going to do about it?” He smiles a wicked grin. At least, what would be considered wicked in kindergarten

“I’ll never let you on the swings again!”

“I don’t see your name written on it!”

“That’s cause you’re stupid and can’t read!”

Tears well up in the young boys eyes. He blinks them away, running to tell on the teacher him and Sam share. Sam didn’t care, he deserved the insults anyways

“Sammy? What did you do to Carlos?” You run up to Sam, who’s glaring at the back of Carlos’ head from her seat on the swing

“I pushed him. He broke the crayons your dad gave you!” The Carpenter pulls you into a hug, not wanting to let go

“I know he did Sammy, but it’s not nice to push people” You reciprocate the hug, pulling back a bit to see Sam’s face and how her forehead was wrinkled with her eyebrows furrowed. You thought she was cute like one of your stuffed animals

“It’s not nice to break something that doesn’t belong to you! I did it because he was mean to you”

“You’re going to get in trouble! Mrs. Poppy doesn’t know you were trying to protect me”

“Then I’ll tell her, and Carlos will get in trouble too”

“Samantha Carpenter.” Your teacher’s voice was stern. Nothing like the sweet teacher you were used to. You backed away from Sam’s hug but you don’t go far. You hold her tiny hand with your own and make sure to stay close, rubbing her hand in hopes of comfort

“Is it true you pushed Carlos off the swings and said some mean things?”

“Yeah, but he was being mean to (Y/n) first! He broke her new crayons her dad got her! Mrs. Poppy, (Y/n) was really sad” Your dad couldn’t get you many new things due to being a single father. Especially new school supplies. Usually you’d reuse the crayons you didn’t lose or break from previous years or borrow some of Sam’s

On most days you took the bus home with Sam while your dad was off working his ass off to get you dinner every night. Your dad and Sam’s dad were good friends so Mr and Mrs. Carpenter didn’t mind taking care of you until your dad was able to pick you up from their house. Luckily you two lived in the same neighborhood. Some days you thought all of the stars aligned for you and Sam to be friends

“Is this true?” Your teacher shoots a look at the boy next to her. While your teacher was the nicest woman you ever met, she had a deadly glare. You were happy you weren’t on the receiving end of that stare

“N-No…”

“Carlos if I find out you’re lying, you’re going to be sharing the same punishment as Sam.” Mrs. Poppy seems to calm down a bit, entering her nice teacher mode once again

“F-Fine! I did break her crayons” Carlos pouts, crossing his arms

“Thank you for telling the truth, but what you did was wrong. You also did something wrong, Sam. Instead of pushing Carlos off the swing, you could’ve told me and I would have taken care of it” Your teacher bends down to look at the two kids in the eyes

“Sorry, Mrs. Poppy” Sam and Carlos say in unison

“Thank you, you two. I know you two are good kids and know what’s right”

Your teacher leaves with Carlos next to her and you can hear her faintly ask why the boy broke your crayons in the first place

“I like having you as a friend, Sammy” You hug the girl, who’s long since stopped swinging

“I like having you as a friend too, (Y/n)!” Sam beams. Her smile was one of your favorite things ever

“Can we play house?”

“Yeah! I’ll bring my bear next time so she can be our baby!”

//-//

“I can’t believe you can name your sister!” You were over at Sam’s house a few months after her baby sister was born. You didn’t know what to call Sam’s little sister considering… she didn’t really have a name. It was up to Sam to pick a name but of course she was a Carpenter, wanting the best name for her sister. As a result, her baby sister had no name

Until today, that is. Sam was finally making a decision today

“I don’t know what her name is going to be yet” Sam reaches out a finger to her baby sister who happily grabs onto it with curiosity

“She likes you a lot, huh?”

“She knows I’m her sister”

“Maybe I could help you come up with a name! What’s your favorite letter?”

“I like the first letter of your name but I don’t want it to be that! I need to think of something different”

“I know you’ll think of a wonderful name, darling.” Sam’s mom strokes her on the head as she rocks the small baby in her arms

“Do you have another favorite letter?” You ask

“Uh… I like T?”

“What about Triceratops!” You giggle

“Her name can’t be Triceratops, silly!” Sam smiles

“Tennis?”

“(Y/n), those aren’t names” The now older Carpenter giggles along with you

“What about Taylor? Oh! There’s a girl in our class named Thalia?”

“I want it to be different, though! I like those names but Tara needs to be special.” Sam’s eyes go wide in surprise. Maybe her brain just knew her baby sister was supposed to be named Tara

“Tara?” You repeat. “That’s a pretty name! Hi little Tara!” You wave at the baby in her mom’s arms

“Is this official? Is Tara your choice, Sam?”

“Yeah! Tara is a nice name. She looks like her name would be Tara”

“She does, doesn’t she? Such a pretty name you chose, Sam. Honey, come here! We have our daughter’s name!” Mrs. Carpenter yells for her husband

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Sam smile so wide before

//-//

“Hey, Sam?”

“What’s up?”

“Aren’t you scared of middle school?“

“No, why would I be? Middle school should be scared of me” That was your Sam alright. The most fearless person you knew. As far as you knew, she was scared of absolutely nothing. Not even the dark. Which is why you were reluctant to stay outside on your trampoline after sunset. Which is also why you were curled next to Sam as she pointed out all the different stars

“What if we stop being friends?”

“Don’t be stupid, (Y/n)” The Carpenter pinches your cheek and you yelp while giggling, shoving her hand away

“If we stop being friends, which we won’t, I promise I’ll let you have all of my stuffed animals”

“Woah, really?”

“Yes, really

“Every single one of them?”

“Yes, every single one of them” Sam rolls her eyes

“Even Ghostie?” Ghostie was the panda stuffed animal you got Sam for her eighth birthday. Technically your dad bought it for her but you picked it out

“What! You’re not supposed to take a gift back, I like Ghostie”

“Well, you can give me all of your stuffed animals and I’ll just give Ghostie back to you”

“That makes no sense, why wouldn’t you just let me keep it?”

“Cause then you wouldn’t have given me all of your stuffed animals and kept your promise”

“You’re weird, (Y/n)”

“Hey, so are you! That’s why we’re friends”

“Yeah, I guess so” Sam giggles

The sliding door to your house opens and both you and Sam turn to look who’s there. It’s your dad

“Hey, girls! Sam, your parents are leaving now. Best you go with them, eh?”

“Okay! Thank you, Mr. (Y/l/n)” The Carpenter waves to your dad

“Wait, let me go with you inside! It’s scary out here”

//-//

“Sam! What if we get caught out here?” Your words held concern but you couldn’t stop laughing as Sam dragged you under the bleachers

“Shhh! They’re gonna catch us!” The Carpenter put a hand over your mouth and put one over hers so she’d also stop laughing when both of you sat down on the underside of the bleachers where the grass was

Both you and Sam were currently in seventh grade but there was an eighth grade couple that was constantly terrorizing the younger kids. Sam being Sam, she wanted to end their reign.

How did she want to end their reign? By breaking the two up. Sam slipped a note in both of their lockers about meeting to break up during one of their classes, causing both of them to skip. Your job was to lead a teacher to their meetup and if everything went right, then they would be successfully broken up and in detention.

Both of you hear footsteps and see the couple at the meetup spot. The teacher wasn’t far away, all you had to do was rile him up a little and run away. Did you feel a little bad? Maybe. But in your defense the couple was always making out in the hallways and made everyone passing by uncomfortable. For gods sake, it was middle school! Not high school

You and Sam were far enough away you couldn’t hear them but their body language was enough for the both of you to understand. Your plan was going perfectly. You and Sam were more the vigilante type, not the heroes or the villains

The couple exchanged pointed looks and flailing arms, hopefully arguing about the note. You and Sam wrote… not the nicest things in there

The teacher eventually arrives out of breath but the couple is too busy yelling each other to notice how he’s standing over them. He looks to clear his throat and to their horror, they stop fighting. Success!

“Yes! We did it!” Sam says a little too loudly from the position you two were in. Their heads turn in your direction and you know you’re caught when the teacher stars walking towards you two

“Hey! What’re you two doing there under the bleachers?” His ragged voice yells

Shit.

//-//

“Sam? What’s wrong?” You run to the Carpenter, who’s outside under a tree eating her lunch. Usually she’d wait for you but today seemed different

“Get away from me, (Y/n).”

“Sam, don’t be like that. You know me, you can tell me what’s wrong.” You and Sam didn’t share too many classes in eighth grade. Even then, your friendship still didn’t seem to falter. You’d still hang out after school and help each other study. Sam lashing out at you was never really a problem you two had

“No! You don’t know anything.” Sam shoves you away when you try to put your hand on her shoulder. “You’re useless.”

“Sam, you don’t mean that. Please just tell me what’s wrong?”

“You wouldn’t understand. You don’t understand anything.”

“Yes I do! We always talk to each other, Sammy. Even if I’m not going to understand, I can still listen”

“Don’t say that stupid name.”

“I thought you liked Sammy?”

“See, that’s the thing with you! You’re always so stuck in the past. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“You’re not being very nice right now”

“Yeah? Well you can deal with it.” The last thing you expect Sam to do is push you onto the ground into a patch of dirt.

“We’re done. I’m not your friend anymore.”

“Sam- we can talk about this” Tears pool in your eyes. You try to get up but all that happens is a crawl

“We can’t. You’re weak and pathetic and can’t do anything without me.”

Sam doesn’t look back when you say her name through tears. Sam doesn’t look back when she hears a few laughs and whispers directed at you. Sam doesn’t look back.

//-//

“Heyyyyy (Y/n)!” Sam’s voice slurs over the phone. It was almost one in the morning, what the hell was this girl doing? Not to mention this is the first time she’s even talked to you since middle school. And yet, you still answered without hesitation. Damn you really needed to grow a backbone

“Sam? What’s going on?”

“Nothingggggg whut’re y’doin?”

“I was trying to go to sleep then you called me. Where are you?”

“Why’d y’wanna know? You’re not my momma!”

“Are you drunk? Sam, you’re underage!”

“No fun… I’m wif my friends! We at a partayyy!”

“Whose house are you at?” Grabbing your keys, you race to the door. Your dad was asleep and you only had your learners permit but you couldn’t just hang up on your Sam like that.

“Uh… Tristan? He’s in our uh… what class is he in?”

“Math. Tristan from math, got it” You knew where he lived. You tutored the guy as requested by his parents but he paid you more money to stop coming to his house than his parents did for your tutoring business. How could you say no to free money?

Thankfully he wasn’t far. Thank god for that, you weren’t one to drive at night

You go faster than you hope but luckily you don’t get pulled over. You really didn’t want to go to overnight jail and face your dad the next morning but surely he would understand the circumstances you were in. He knew you, he knew Sam, he knew the devotion.

At least that’s what you told yourself on the way to Tristan’s house

You could hear the house blasting bad music from about four blocks away. It was a wonder how the police hadn’t shown up yet. Unless he paid off them too. You wouldn’t put it past the guy

Were you invited? No. But in all the movies you’ve watched - said movies being Mean Girls - random people just showed up and nobody cared enough to kick them out. So you walked up to the door like you were invited and instantly started looking for Sam

The music was so loud you could feel it in your lungs and couldn’t hear your thoughts. You couldn’t imagine this was the scene Sam was willing to put herself in but then again you hadn’t talked to her in years. Maybe under all those layers she was a party animal at heart

You internally laugh at the thought. Like hell Sam’s actually a party animal

After a bit you find Sam snorting some drug that probably shared the name with a sexually transmitted disease. Grabbing the sleeve of her shirt, you drag her out of the house while her friends groan and call you a party pooper.

“Hey! Wh- what’s wrong wif you!?”

“We’re going home, Sam. I’m taking you home”

“No! T-Tara can’t see me. Wanna go somewhere else…” Sam struggles against your grip. She’s always been stronger than you but in her intoxicated state you could probably carry her like a sack of potatoes if you tried hard enough

“Fine, I’ll take you to my house. You can spend the night”

“Noooo, wanna party…”

“We’re going home, Sam.”

In all of your years of friendship with Sam, she’s never seen you so stern before. The Carpenter keeps her mouth shut for the rest of the car ride.

After lots of trial and error, you eventually get Sam out of your car and into your bedroom with much difficulty. Thankfully your dad was the heaviest sleeper you knew. You search for a shirt and shorts that fit Sam, ignoring her protests of not wanting to sleep

Against your better judgment, you now have your intoxicated ex-best friend in your bed as her sobriety was nowhere to be found

“Why did you call me, Sam? Even in your state I know you couldn’t do that on accident”

“Ugh, friends made me. Wan’ me t’call my first crush”

“What?” You’re taken aback. Did you hear her correctly?

“Tired… m’sleepy”

You sigh, bringing your hand to Sam’s face to stroke her cheek. Your heart breaks when the older Carpenter leans into your hand like a touch starved cat. You wished things would go back to normal but Sam was stubborn. She wouldn’t let you in no matter how many times you tried.

“Go to sleep, Sam. I hope I’ll see you in the morning” You’re only met with small snores

You wanted to hate Sam. You wanted to hate Sam with all your heart for pushing you away and not even looking at her sister anymore

You wanted to hate Samantha Carpenter so badly but you couldn’t

//-//

It’s nine thirty in the morning when you hear a knock at your door. It was a Saturday. Who the hell was up this early? Rubbing the sleep from your eyes and attempting to smooth out your hair with your hands, you begrudgingly walk downstairs to the door. Your dad was at work already and usually you weren’t up at this hour

Looking through the peephole, you don’t expect to see Tara Carpenter in tears at your door.

“Hey what happened, sweetheart?” You bend down to meet Tara’s eyes. They were red and puffy, evidently showing she was crying a lot. And a lot before she got to you

“S-Sam, she-“ Your heart broke when Tara couldn’t let out even a few words without hiccuping and sniffling

“You can tell me later, darling. How about we drink some juice and you can tell me what’s happening, yeah?”

“No! S-Sam’s…” There seemed to be a never ending amount of tears flowing. “She’s gone, (Y/n). She’s gone and she’s gone for good.” Tara runs into your arms, staining your shirt with her tears.

“What do you mean, baby?”

“M-Mom said Sam left a-and isn’t coming back…” Your heart breaks when Tara’s breathing gets quicker and isn’t able to catch her breath

You pick up the younger Carpenter, taking her to your couch. Tara’s on your lap and you’re holding her just like her mom probably did when she was born. It was something your dad always did, even when you got older. Sometimes people just needed to be babied no matter how old they were.

So you start rocking Tara. She’s holding onto you like you’re the only thing keeping her alive and you move her ear to your heart. Placing her head under your chin, you hum a tune that was familiar to you. A lullaby your mom always sung to you before she died

You kiss Tara’s forehead with tears in your eyes. You saw how Sam changed and you couldn’t help her. You knew this day was going to come and you couldn’t stop it. But how could you?

When Sam looked at you with such hatred and anger, you’d wonder if she was still the same Sam that pushed Carlos because he broke your new crayons. When you saw her high out of her mind with people that didn’t care about her, you’d wonder if she was the same Sam that watched the stars with you on your trampoline. When you looked at Sam all you could see was what you two were. Was your Sam even still in there there?

You felt disgusted with yourself. You could’ve done something and yet you did nothing.

You’d never see best friend again and Tara would only remember her sister as hateful and unloving. Memories of Sam would go sour until you only had Tara and Tara only had you as a reminder of who Sam used to be.

When the younger Carpenter sees you also crying, she somehow manages to hug you tighter than she already has. What a lovely girl Tara was.

“A-Are you okay, (Y/n)?” The brunette says in a small voice

“Can I be honest with you, Tara?” You earn a nod from the small girl

“No. I’m not okay. But you know what? I’ve got you and you got me. Thank you for telling me.”

“(Y/n)?”

“Yeah?”

“Mom says she isn’t coming back. Sam didn’t talk to me a lot but I miss her.”

“You’ve got such a big heart, Tara. Did you know that? Please don’t ever lose it for me.”

“Will Sam come back?”

Your breath hitches and for a second you’re left without words in your throat and without knowledge about the future.

“Yes… she’ll come back. Sam just doesn’t know it yet.”

Tara’s mom comes storming in a second later with an out of breath angry expression that slowly softens when she sees how her daughter is nestled in your arms

“Tara, you can’t just run away like that. You made me so scared, you know I can’t run as fast as you” Her mom presses a kiss to her forehead

“I had to tell (Y/n), Mom! She’s Sam’s best friend and she deserved to know”

Her mom brought a hand to Tara’s face to wipe a few stray tears. With her other, she placed on your shoulder with a small nod. Sam was gone. She was gone for good.

//-//

Sam spends her first night away from home in her car in a neighborhood she didn’t recognize. The first night Sam leaves, she holds Ghostie in her arms and hopes it’s enough to keep her safe.

//-//

“You’re hiding something”

“What?” You and Tara always hung out ever since Sam left. Her mom hasn’t been the same since her husband walked out. You offered to be one of Tara’s caretakers to help her mom with the load of being a single mother without Sam or her husband’s support

Your dad wasn’t home very often but every now and again he’d give you random tips on how to raise a teenager. At least, tips he used when he raised you. At first he was skeptical of you taking on the role of caretaker at such a young age but when you employed Tara to use her puppy eyes, it was a losing battle for him.

So Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, Tara was all yours. You’ve been doing this since you turned eighteen and could confidently drive without being nervous at all. Also mostly because you couldn’t be her guardian in the eyes of the law under eighteen

There was a void in Tara’s heart and while you couldn’t fully replace her sister, the least you could do was be there. Which is how you knew something was up when she started picking at one of the things she loved so dearly. Your cooking.

“I know you’re hiding something, squirt”

“You’re crazy, I’m not hiding anything” Tara scoffs

“Hey, I’m not decades older than you. I know when you’re lying” You hated pulling the ‘I used to be your age’ card but now you’re realizing how effective it is when you’re only six or seven years older than Tara

Tara throws her head back, groaning in what seems to be frustration and covering her face. You can’t hold back your snicker. The younger Carpenter was always one for theatrics

“You don’t have to tell me but I could really help you, you know? With how super knowledgeable I am, as you know”

“Knowledgeable my ass, you didn’t know your microwave had a popcorn button until I told you”

“In my defense, I heard you’re not even supposed to use the popcorn button for popcorn”

“Then why is it called a popcorn button?”

“I dunno. Maybe the same reason why Greenland is called Greenland”

“What?”

“Deception. The guy who found Greenland named it that cause he wanted more people to come over. I bet he was lonely”

“Why do you know that?” Tara says in between laughs

“No clue, but we’re getting off topic!” You smile. “The point is, you shouldn’t feel like you have to keep secrets from me.” You reach over to pinch Tara’s cheek and she tries to swat your hand away, ultimately failing. “Well, big secrets. If you cheated on a test or something I don’t care that much”

“Thanks, (Y/n)”

“No problemo, squirt”

So now you were back to silently eating dinner except for your TV playing some sitcom Tara liked. You could handle the quietness. Even if Tara didn’t want to tell you, at least she knew you were there to listen. That’s all that mattered

“(Y/n), I think I like a girl.”

//-//

“What was Sam like?” Tara says out of the blue. “I was thirteen when she left but she didn’t really talk to me. What was she like… before that?”

It was another weekend night that consisted of spending time with Tara. The question catches you off guard

“I don’t think you’d believe me, squirt”

“Well I wanna know anyways. Even if i believe it or not”

“Did you know Sam named you?”

“She did?”

“Yeah, Sam named you Tara. You were unnamed for a while before she came up with anything.”

“Mom said she was mean. Is that true?”

“I mean yeah, but not entirely. When you’re friends with Sam, she’d be the nicest person you’ve ever met. Hell, she’d probably kill for anyone she loved. But when someone messed with a person she loved, nothing could stop her from making her loved one feel better”

“I wish I could’ve experienced it.”

“Trust me, you did. You just don’t remember it. One time when you were little, a kid that was around Sam’s age at time pushed you into the mud at the playground and Sam was furious” You laugh

“You cried and Sam could hear you from where we were playing soccer. She found him and kicked his ass so hard he crawled back to his mommy so we took you and booked it out of there”

“She did that?” Tara covers her mouth laughing, failing to cover it up

“I remember it like it was yesterday, squirt. Sam gave you a piggy back ride and you were giggling the entire time we ran home.”

//-//

“Fuck, Tara! Shit, I came as fast as I could. Are you okay? Oh my god, of course you’re not okay.” You barged into Tara’s hospital room without any concern of who else was in there. You took her face in your hands and scanned for anything wrong until you brought her into a bone crushing hug. “Sorry, stupid question. Holy shit I’m so happy you’re alive, squirt. I am never letting you out of my sight again. Okay maybe in the future I will, but the future is not now! Right now I’m never leaving you again.”

“You’re such a fighter, you know that? Holy shit you must’ve been so scared. Tara you’re the strongest person I know, did you know that?” There are tears in your eyes threatening to spill. You don’t even notice there are other people in the room.

“Deep breaths, (Y/n). I’m okay. Look, I’m right here” Tara takes one of your hands and puts it against her heart. Your eyes can’t hold in your tears any longer. When you cried, you rambled. Tara was ready for the storm.

“Fuck you’re such a sweet girl, Tara. Even when you’re lying in a hospital bed you care about me. I don’t know what monster would do this to you! He obviously doesn’t know what a blessing to this world you are. Please promise you’ll never let anyone stop you from being the beautiful sweet girl you are.”

There it was.

You felt a hand rub your back and your arm. You assumed it was Tara. Until you heard a hum that wasn’t Tara’s. Until you realized this person had rough hands. And oddly smelt like…

“Sam?” Your head whips around

“Hey, (Y/n). I… I missed you.”

“Sam?” You let go for a second and bring your hand to her face. Not in a cute or romantic holding-her-cheek-way, no, you pinch at her cheeks and nose with a questioning look. You poke at Sam’s forehead and nose, still probably in disbelief. Yeah, you were still her (Y/n).

“Please don’t tell me both of you are dead and I’m actually in a psych ward and this is all a dream” You whisper and you can hear Tara laugh behind you

“No, this is all very real.” Sam smiles, taking your hand off her face and gently putting it back by your side. Your eyes go wide and you whip around to look back at the younger Carpenter

“Tara, can I take my attention off you for a second? Will you be okay?” You whisper, knowing damn well Sam could hear you

“Yeah I’ll be okay, (Y/n). Go hug Sam.”

You press a kiss against Tara’s hairline and immediately after, launch into Sam’s arms. Tara could feel it again, you were going to start crying and rambling.

“Sam, I can’t believe you’re here! Well of course you’re here. I always knew you’d come back! I knew you wanted to come back. I don’t know why you left, but I hope you achieved your goal and came back because you missed us. Also I’m really mad at you but for the sake of time we can discuss that at a later time.”

There it was.

“You two are close, huh?” You don’t notice there’s a man with curly hair in the room and you raise an eyebrow at Sam

“Yeah, very close” You say

“Sorry, I should introduce you two. (Y/n), this is my boyfriend Richie. Richie, this is (Y/n). My…” Fuck. Sam couldn’t just say you were her best friend after all these years. After she made your life shit, was she even allowed to call you her friend? What if-

“Best friend. Happy to meet you, Richie”

“Likewise” He smiles. There’s a pang of a certain emotion in your chest you can’t quite place

“Well, I’ll be going now. Feel better soon, Tara” Richie waves at the younger Carpenter and gives Sam a kiss before he leaves Tara’s hospital room

“Do you know if my friends are visiting soon?” Tara asks you. Sam doesn’t know how to feel when she sees Tara treating you more like a sister than her. She knew it was wrong. Sam had no right to be treated like a sister after she just up and left all those years ago

“Amber told me she was getting some of your things from her house. The twins are coming over right now, okay? I think you’ll feel better when you see them”

Sam felt like an alien watching you and Tara talk. Watching you two was like watching everything she’s missed. Sam missed almost all of Tara’s high school experience. Arguably one of the most important times to have an older sister. She shouldn’t have been jealous. She wasn’t allowed to be jealous after all she did to you and Tara

“How’re you feeling right now? Anything I need to tell the doctors?”

“No, I’m feeling okay”

“Hey, can I talk to you outside, (Y/n)?” Sam says almost above a whisper

“Yeah, of course.” You turn to face Tara as you walk out her room. “See you in a second, squirt. Don’t run away” The brunette rolls her eyes at your words

“Guess I owe you all my stuffed animals, huh?”

“You still remember that?” You raise an eyebrow at the girl

“I do. I owe you an explanation, don’t I?”

“An explanation would be appreciated” You weren’t mad at Sam per se, just very very very disappointed. Mostly at yourself for letting her leave

“You remember when I yelled at you that day in middle school? I said I didn’t want to talk to you or be your friend anymore? It’s not an excuse, but I have an explanation.”

You nod along to Sam’s story, listening close

“The night before I yelled at you, I found out my dad wasn’t really my dad. I was going through my mom’s diaries I found in the attic and it was the worst thing I’ve ever done. I.. I found out I was-“ Sam doesn’t realize she’s crying until she chokes on her words and your expression falters. Sam remembers you were always good at comforting people

She’d always get bruises and scrapes when she was younger but you were always there to make her feel better. Fuck, she can’t remember why she would ever leave you. You were the perfect best friend. Always an inviting smile and open arms that were ready for hugs. The only one that stuck with Sam through whatever happened.

Sam was at her lowest of lows when you picked her up that night during the party. She remembers wondering why she’d put you so much pain and worry. She smoothed out the wrinkles on your forehead while you were asleep and felt guilty she was probably the cause of them. That night when you picked up Sam from that party and you had your arms wrapped around her, Sam asked herself why she would ever push you away. She loved everything about you. She loved you.

In her drunken state she remembers wanting to fade away into your memory. At least then you’d remember the Sam that played tag with you and not the one that snorted or drank away her pain. It was the same night she decided to leave everything behind. She decided to leave you behind

But Sam was selfish. She wanted you to tell her not to go. To come back into your arms and for you to tell her everything would be okay. That it didn’t matter she was the bastard child of a serial killer. It wasn’t her fault her dad left. Reassuring her you and Tara would love Sam the same. In a perfect world Sam would’ve still been Tara’s sister and you would’ve been her-

“Hey, look at me. You don’t have to tell me. If this is hurting you so much then I understand why you wanted to run away. What matters is that you came back. You’re strong for that” You pull Sam into your arms, letting her cry into the side of your neck.

Sam didn’t have the heart or the voice to tell you it wasn’t the story making her cry. She feared her voice would fail her and drive you away again. Sam would tell you why she left later

But right now, Sam was happy to be able to bask in your arms once again.

//-//

“Hey, (Y/n)?”

“Mhm?” You and Sam were back at your house getting some things Tara wanted

She requested the teddy bear Amber got her for her birthday, a blanket from her bed, and something better than hospital food. You decided to whip up something quick and simple you knew Tara liked. Frozen orange chicken from the store and fried rice

“I think I can tell you about why I left now.”

“Are you sure? I’m not gonna force you to tell me if it hurts so much to say, Sam��

“No, you of all people deserve to know. Sometimes I can’t believe I’m the same person that said all those horrible things to you and just never talked to you again without explanation.”

“Hey, don’t worry about all that. It’s in the past now and I know you’ve changed. I forgive you-“

“No, (Y/n). You can’t forgive me. You can’t make excuses for me and talk to me like we’re best friends again when I ignored you because I was mad at myself and- and-“ Sam chokes on her words and can’t hide it when you glance at her.

“Oh, Sam…”

“No, you can’t forgive me yet. I betrayed your trust. You can’t forgive me.”

“Sam, I accepted your apology when I saw you in Tara’s hospital room. Whatever you were going to say, I already knew I’d forgive you all the same.”

“Stop saying that, (Y/n). You don’t always have to be nice, you can be mad too.”

“But it’s true, Sam. If I’m mad at someone, I’m mad at myself for not fighting for you harder”

“How can you still look at me even when I left you. Years of friendship, all down the drain because I couldn’t handle being the bastard child of a serial killer that broke her family apart.” You turn off the heat to your stove, walking over to where Sam was curled into herself and sitting near the bottom of the staircase

Taking a seat next to her, you drape your arm around her shoulders and attempt to get her to rest her head on your shoulder. Sam doesn’t let you and fights back.

“Samantha Carpenter, you have been gone for five years. One-thousand eight hundred and twenty-five days, not including leap day. You aren’t allowed to push me away again. If you really want to say sorry, you can start by letting me in.” You take on a faux-mad tone and it seems to work

Slowly, the older Carpenter leans into your shoulder with a sigh. She makes herself comfortable and looks at you through her eyelids. It was weird. Five years out of Woodsboro and four years away from you, yet you still opened up your arms like nothings changed. It was odd. You were odd.

“What’re you thinking about?” You’ve always had a knack for reading Sam’s mind. Whenever she got quiet and her heart looked like it slowed, she was probably thinking

“You.”

“What about me?”

“How I don’t get you”

“What don’t you get about me?”

“I haven’t talked to you in nine years, I show up unannounced, and you’re still acting like we’re best friends even after all this time. I can’t tell if you’re the nicest or weirdest person ever.”

“Can’t I be both?” You smile, trying to lighten the mood. You realize it doesn’t work when Sam shies away from your gaze

“Well, I can be honest. I think it’s because I’m selfish.” That makes Sam look at you again so you decide to keep going

“Of course I’m… disappointed you broke up our friendship and you left without telling me and left your sister and I to believe you were never coming back,” The older Carpenter winces at your words but you don’t let her stop looking at you. Even as you avoid eye contact and place your gaze somewhere else.

“But there’s a part of me that wants everything to go back to normal. I know we’re going to have to talk about it. About us and about why, but right now I think what we need to do is be there for Tara. She’s in the hospital after being attacked by a serial killer and the last thing she needs is her older sister and her best friend fighting. We can do all the yelling and crying and screaming later.”

Taking a breath in, you look back at Sam who’s already looking at you. I’m makes your heart flutter in a way you don’t understand.

“And maybe that’s my excuse. Maybe I never want to cry or yell or scream at you. Maybe I’m putting off the inevitable because I don’t want you to leave again. Maybe Tara is my excuse for not being mad at you. Maybe I’m holding out hope for someone that doesn’t exist anymore. We’re different people than when we were in middle school. I don’t want to cling to a person that doesn’t exist anymore yet here I am, clinging to someone that doesn’t exist like she’s my lifeline. But in all honesty, I don’t think I could stay mad at you for too long. Even if I tried.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” There’s a silence that passes between you two. You can’t tell if it’s awkward or comfortable silence. You hope it’s the latter

“Do you get me a little more?”

“Well, not entirely. But I think it’s a step.”

“Yeah. Steps are good, aren’t they? Keep you healthy.” Sam smiles at your stupid joke.

You don’t miss how Sam still reminds you of looking like one of your old stuffed animals.

“What was Tara like?”

“What do you mean?” The question catches you off guard. The Carpenter sisters seemed to have that in common

“I missed a lot of her life. What was she like?”

“I don’t think she’s changed a lot. Tara is a sweet girl, she’s got a good head on her shoulders and a good heart in her body.”

“But that’s probably not what you’re asking. Tara was… distraught when you left.” You pick your words carefully. “She ran away from her mom just to tell me you left. She said I deserved to know since I was your best friend. It took a while for her to want to let go of me me. It’s when I knew I just couldn’t let her stay like that forever”

You shakily sigh before continuing. You’d have to acknowledge the elephant in the room eventually and you decided it was going to be now. “I know I’m not her real sister. I hope you’ll forgive me for taking a role that was supposed to-“

“Are you kidding?” Sam quickly cuts you off when she registers what you’re saying. “If anything, I’m happy it was you.” The Carpenter lifts her head up from your shoulder to look at you. To really look at you. “I know she has a good person to look up to. I’m happy you two are close.”

You’re about to respond when your ringtone goes off. The same ringtone you had in high school. Some Evanescence song you remember religiously listening to in school blasts from your phone. Usually it was Tara who found it embarrassing when you had to answer it in public but this time it was you with the reddened cheeks. Scrambling to find your phone in your pocket, you pull it out to see it’s Tara calling you

“Hey squirt. What’s up?”

“Are you guys going to hurry up anytime soon? I’m starving”

“Yeah we’re leaving just now don’t worry about it”

“Okay but my stomach is currently eating itself”

“You’ll live. I’ll see you soon, yeah? Don’t go running anywhere”

“At least I don’t run jokes into the ground until they’re dead… pun not intended”

“Hah! Proof you’re taking after me whether you like it or not”

“Whatever, I’ll see you soon. Run red lights if you have to”

“You got it, boss. See you soon” You pocket your phone, getting up from where you’re sitting. Offering Sam your hand, she takes it and you help her up too

“C’mon, our little girl’s hungry. That’s something you should know, she’s got an appetite the size of an elephant and a metabolism as fast as a cheetah” You smile, putting Tara’s food in a lunchbox you had in a random cabinet somewhere

Sam doesn’t trust her voice to do anything but break so she laughs at your comment and you both leave your house

Sam thinks our little girl has a good ring to it.

//-//

“Oh my god. Tara? Sam?” You narrowly avoided the police yelling at you to get away and the caution tape that prevented you from coming any closer. What used to be a house that held fond memories had been replaced with one that only caused you worry. You couldn’t lose both Tara and Sam. You couldn’t lose your favorite girls.

Sam texted you to come over to Amber’s house. That it was a Ghostface emergency and the speed in which you jumped in your car rivaled The Flash himself

“(Y/n)!” Sam’s voice. You run to the sound, dodging and weaving through the paramedics and police officers telling you to leave

Sam finds you with bags under your eyes and your hair a mess. It looked like you were in your sleepwear. Even though you were just in a band tee and plaid pajama pants, Sam feels the need to wipe the blood off her face and clothes to look a little presentable. You always had that effect for some reason

“Sam.” You breathe a sigh of relief, running into her arms. Your choked sobs reach her ears and it’s the saddest sound she’s ever heard. Sam squeezes you tighter. Maybe if she did she’d never want to leave again

“You’re back and you almost left me again. Don’t you know how mad I would be if you died?” Pulling back, you put both of your hands on Sam’s cheeks like you did so many years ago. “You- you-“

“Hey, shh… I’m here. I’m here, sweetie. See? I’m here and I’m never leaving again.” Sam leans her forehead against yours, putting your hands around her waist so she could wipe the tears away from your face.

“I’m here, yeah? We won. They’re gone now, (Y/n).”

“How’re you sure?”

“They’re dead. Both of the Ghostfaces are dead.”

Sam leans in, awfully close for someone who’s just your best friend. Your mind instantly goes to her boyfriend. You know what’s about to happen so you back away, a little weary. The Carpenter furrows her eyebrows looking a little sad, oddly resembling a kicked puppy.

“What about Ric-?”

“Don’t say his name, it’ll ruin your perfect mouth” Sam cups your cheek, running her face over your bottom lip

You have to fight your body to not get hot at her words and actions. “Yeah but- he’s kind of your boyfriend. Where is he?”

“Ex-boyfriend actually. He’s dead, I killed him.”

“Oh. Am I right for assuming that’s a god thing?”

“Very good. He was one of the Ghostfaces”

“One of? Who’s the other?”

“I think Tara should be the one to tell you”

“Well, I didn’t like Richie to begin with. He gave me an odd feeling”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Sam leans in closer to you, a ghost of a kiss hanging in the air waiting to be taken. Sam smiles against your breath and for a fraction of a second you think your heart has stopped beating.

“He got to kiss you before I did.” Something snaps in Sam when you kiss her. A craving she’s always had, a certain desire finally being filled, or maybe even her dreams coming true.

You hold Sam like she’s about to leave again, pulling her impossibly close. You’re never letting her go again. It’s Sam who pulls away first. She’s out of breath but you lean in to steal more kisses before she smiles against your lips and it’s an image you never want to forget.

“Please, you two have to stop doing this.” You whisper, your eyes going wide. “Where’s Tara?” You pull away from Sam, whipping your head around like it’s going to help you find her quicker

“C’mon, she’s over here. Be careful, don’t squeeze her too hard”

“I’m going to squeeze that girl until she knows how much I love her.”

“You might break one of her ribs, darling”

“Squirt, you’re alive!” You run to Tara as her head whips in your direction. You can feel tears pool in your eyes once again and you’re okay with letting them go.

“(Y/n), I was so scared. A-Amber she- she tried to kill me.”

“What? Amber? Amber as in, your girlfriend?” You say shocked, taking Tara’s face in your hands to look at her

“A-Amber and Richie, they-“

“How about we tell (Y/n) what happened later? We need to make sure everyone is okay, including ourselves. (Y/n) can wait, right?”

“Oh I can wait alright. I’m the best at waiting. You can tell me about it when you’re feeling better”

One of the paramedics call over the Carpenter sisters and by proximity, you tag along. A man is ushering them in an ambulance and you’re also about to hop in before he stops you

“Ma’am, I’m sorry but we can’t let you into the ambulance. We don’t have enough space.”

“That is my little girl and that is my girlfriend. I will either be running every single red light, hang on the top of this ambulance, or so forgive me god for what I’m going to do.”

“O-Of course, Ma’am. You can ride in the ambulance.”

“Thank you, sir. You made a good decision today” You pat his shoulder, taking your seat near Sam. You sling an arm around Sam’s shoulders and reach out to hold Tara’s hand.

“Girlfriend, huh?” Tara weakly smiles, looking between you and her sister.

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 12

part 1, prev part

The Chief walks into the hospital room the next day in full uniform. Pulling out his key ring and setting the key in the lock. The cuffs open, clacking against each other as he takes them back.

Eddie is free.

“I owe you an apology, I should have taken these off a long time ago.”

Wayne looks at the Chief, wondering if he should be grateful or angry. “Why happed with the feds?”

“They agreed to point the other way. Still looking for a fall guy, but it won’t be your nephew. I made sure of that.”

“Thank you.”

The Chief huffs. “Don’t be thanking me. You should thank Harrington, he really knocked some sense into my head.”

That seems to happen often. Through his actions, the way that he talks to people. The way that he’s respected Wayne’s boundary to leave him and Eddie alone. The way he cares for Dustin. Cares for Eddie even when Wayne didn’t want him too. Fought for the things he knew were true, never giving up.

Wayne really needed to talk to him.

“I hear he’s been getting better,” the Chief continues. Taking the seat next to Wayne.

Wayne nods. “Yeah, wakin’ up slowly. Should be able to talk again in a few days.”

The Chief nods. “I know I was really dragging my feet to get the cuffs off, but my offer still stands. If you need anything, feel free to give me a call. I still can’t tell you everything that happened, but as time goes on, you’re going to have a lot of questions. I can hopefully give you some answers. Lend a hand when you need me to.”

There’s going to be a lot of things that Wayne will never understand. Life has shown him that already. There were things that he didn’t understand before and learned to.

He can do it all again. Try to ignore the need for answers and try to understand. Have the patience he had when Eddie was younger. As he was learning how to be the person Eddie needed him to be.

“I appreciate that, Chief.”

“Please, just call me Jim.”

Jim leaves a little after that. Giving Wayne some space. He goes on a walk a little while later. Wanting some fresh air. Coming back to see Dustin heading down the hall, Steve sitting peacefully in the waiting room. Looking a hell of a lot better than yesterday.

“Can I talk to you?” Wayne sits down across from him. Ready to actually have a conversation with him for once.

Steve sits up a bit straighter, trying to make a better impression. “Yeah, sure.”

Wayne clears his throat. “I owe you an apology. You never gave me a reason to treat you the way I did and it was harsh of me to assume things about you. It’s not an excuse, but I was angry at a lot of things and seein’ you walk out of here fine while Eddie’s not. . . It was an easy thing for me to be mad at.”

“I don’t blame you. I think I would have reacted the same if it was my kid in Eddie’s position. You really have nothing to apologize for.”

“But I do,” Wayne insists. “You all clearly went through something that I don’t fully understand. I had no right to keep you from seeing him.”

Steve has a look a mix emotions. Like he’s fighting between gratitude and sorrow. “Would it be ok if I saw him now?”

Wayns nods. Walking down the hall with Steve to Eddie’s room, letting him sit in the chair next to him. He swears that he sees tears start to form in Steve’s eyes, but he blinks them away before he can confirm.

“Where’s the kid?” Wayne asks.

Steve clears his throat. “Visiting Max. She’s doing a lot better now.”

“That’s good.”

“He looks so different,” Steve says after a break of silence. “Like the energy of him was sucked out.”

Wayne nods, having felt the same way for a long time.

“I know I didn’t know him that long, but.” Steve takes a breath. “During that week, he was really starting to feel like someone who could become a friend. I was really looking forward to becoming his friend.”

“What happened to him?” Wayns asks, desperate. “What happened to you?”

Steve meets his eyes, a troubled look resting on his face. The want to tell him but the knowledge that he can’t. “I wish I could tell you, but I legally can’t. I know that probably doesn’t make it better.”

“It doesn’t. But I appreciate you trying.”

Dustin comes in and reads his chapter like he always does. Having to pull up another chair since Steve stole his. They leave shortly after it’s done. Giving Wayne a few minutes to himself before he has to leave for work.

He leans closer to Eddie’s bed, placing a hand on the empty bar. Afraid to touch him, to do anything to make him worse. But he hasn’t said much in the days he’s been here. Too hopeless to imagine that Eddie could hear him. Today, he decides to try.

“Hey, kid. I’m sorry that I haven’t talked to you much in the past week. You must think there’s somethin’ up. That you did somethin’ to make me not talk to you. That’s not the case.”

Fear like this is something that Wayne never wanted to experience. Losing a child is something that a parent never wanted to even think about. Let alone live through. And while Eddie isn’t technically Wayne’s kid, he is in all the ways that matter.

“Truth is, I was scared. I thought I lost you so many times in the past few weeks. Each time I came in here, I thought would be the day that the nurses told me you were really gone. That I lost my son.”

Words get choked in Wayne’s throat as tears fall down his face. Things he’s been too afraid to say all coming out at once.

“But I didn’t. You’re still here. And you’re gettin’ better and I am so proud of you.”

Eddie opens his eyes, looking toward Wayne. His fingers tense, raising slightly towards Wayne’s hand. Wayne places his hand on top of Eddie’s squeezing it tight.

“Nothin’ you could do could ever make me not proud of you.”

Note: I’m not crying, you’re crying. Jesus why do I do this to myself. Also this concludes chapter three, now posted on my ao3. Back to Dustin's POV in the next part

part 1, part 2. part 3. part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11

tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

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@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

[jgracie]

THE MONSTER’S GONE, HE’S ON THE RUN AND YOUR DADDY’S HERE

masterlist | rules

in which jason is a hero in more ways than one

pairings jason grace x fem!reader

warnings reader is afab/can get pregnant

on the radio . . . beautiful boy (darling boy) (john lennon)

an my blog has become baby fever central so naturally i had to deliver 🫡, shoutout to anya ( @puffoz ) for helping me name the eldest grace daughter <3

The night after you told Jason you were pregnant with your first child, you’d woken up to the sound of sniffles coming from a certain someone sleeping right next to you. At first, you were confused - Jason had been ecstatic a few hours ago when you broke the news to him, why was he crying now? Then it hit you.

He was scared.

Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, champion of Hera, ex-praetor of Camp Jupiter, Pontifex Maximus and so many other titles you never cared for, was scared. Tenderly, you’d coaxed him out of the ball shape he was currently in (arms wrapped around his knees, head sitting in between his legs) and asked what was wrong, even though you already had an inkling of an idea as to what the matter was.

When he didn’t answer, you didn’t ask again. Knowing Jason like the palm of your hand meant staying silent and waiting for him to be ready to tell you, as expressing and talking about his emotions has been a struggle he only recently began to deal with.

With your hand gently rubbing his back, Jason replied, his voice barely above a whisper, “do you think I’ll be a bad dad?” Only after the question left his lips did Jason make eye contact with you, his eyes glistening with the tears they once held. 

Anyone who grew up the way Jason did would naturally have their doubts about their parental abilities: how was he supposed to take care of a baby when he didn’t even know what it was like to be taken care of as a baby? However, you knew the truth.

“No,” you said. It was a simple answer, full of certainty and confidence, “no, Jason, I don’t think you’ll be a bad father. In fact, I know you’ll be a good one. You aren’t your upbringing - you’re kind, caring and hold so much love in your heart for everyone and everything around you despite the circumstances the Fates put you through. Trust me when I say you’ll be the best dad.”

You were, of course, right. Despite all the hardships that come with pregnancy, yours was a breeze thanks to Jason. Throughout the entirety of the nine months you spent carrying your child, he was nothing but supportive. He’d always buy you whatever food you were craving at whatever time (no matter how strange it was), he’d give you massages, he’d comfort you when you were feeling down and so much more.

The next time Jason cried was in the hospital when your baby had arrived. Natalia June Grace was born at 9:47AM and was everything you wished for and more. As Jason stared into her eyes, the eyes she’d inherited from him, he was filled to the brim with conviction: he was going to be the best dad he could possibly be for his precious Talia.

Despite this, Jason would be lying if he said he didn’t have his hard times. He’d be lying if he said he never woke up in the middle of the night, sweaty as he reached for his glasses and reminded himself that the nightmares aren’t real, they don’t define him, he is not Zeus, he is not Jupiter, he is Jason.

Being Jason meant being an excellent father. In Natalia's eyes, Jason hung the moon and the stars - no one could compare to her father. They had a bond like no other and were inseparable from the minute they met. Everywhere Talia went, Jason followed. Dance recital? He had front row tickets and lots of storage on his phone to film every second of it. Impromptu tea party with her barbies? Jason was there, clad in a tutu as he poured invisible tea into their cups. To you, the fact that Natalia viewed him as her hero was no surprise. Jason, however, tended to need some reminding.

“Mommy!” You heard your daughter yell as soon as she and Jason made their way inside your cozy apartment. While your husband locked the door, your daughter ran to the kitchen and gave you a bone crushing hug. Immediately, you let go of the whisk you were holding and hugged back, unable to believe it was now almost six years since she had been born. Time flies when you’re having fun!

Running your fingers through her hair, you said, “Talia, how was school today? I really missed you!” She replied with a quick ‘good’ before going to sit on the dining table, princess themed bag clutched tightly in her little hands as she yapped to you about everything that had happened at school that day. You smiled, admiring the way your daughter managed to breathe life into the most mundane things.

Just as she was beginning to tell you about her current crush, Mikey, and how he shared his KitKat with her during lunch, Jason appeared, bouquet of flowers in hand as he took your own and pressed a kiss onto the back of it.

“Hi honey, I missed you loads today. Got you these ‘cause I noticed the others started wilting,” your smile widened at this gesture: only your husband would be paying that much attention to the flowers scattered around the house. You gave him a peck on the lips before taking the bouquet from him and going to place it in a vase. While you were doing so, you could hear Jason and Natalia having a conversation.

“Do you want me to put your bag in your room, baby?” He asked.

“No thank you daddy, I wanna show you and mommy something first,” she replied. Then, turning around, she yelled, “mommy, come! I wanna show you and daddy what I did at school today!” 

You obliged, and you and Jason watched as she rummaged in her school bag before pulling out a single piece of paper and handing it to you. On it, in big bold letters, was the title, ‘My Hero’.

“Read it so daddy can know too!” She squealed, nearly jumping out of her seat in excitement. You stared at the picture of a tall, blond man and a little girl in pigtails she’d drawn to accompany the paragraph she’d written on this topic and felt your heart swell with warmth.

Glancing at Jason for a second, you read, “my hero is my daddy. He is my hero because he always plays with me and gets rid of the monsters under the bed when I go to sleep. I love my daddy very much.”

After you’d finished reading, Natalia looked up at Jason expectantly, a big smile plastered on her face as she waited to hear his reaction. However, her smile dropped when she saw tears roll down his cheeks.

Now pouting, she turned to you for answers, “why is daddy sad?” 

You smiled, delicately cupping her face in your palm, “daddy’s not sad, babes, he’s actually really happy. Sometimes, when people are super happy, they cry. Your worksheet means a lot to him, he’s very touched,” at your words, she brightened up.

Natalia then took the paper from you and gave it to Jason, “you can hang it on your wall, daddy, since you like it so much!” She proceeded to give him a peck on the cheek and ran off to her room, not fully understanding exactly how much her simple worksheet meant to Jason.

That was the third time Jason cried: when he realised he wasn’t his upbringing, or Zeus, or Jupiter, or any of the other monsters that lived under his own bed. He was Jason - a great, loving father who put his family above all and was a hero in more ways than one.

[hoshifighting]

hi hi could you do an fwb2lovers wonwoo with some angst but happy ending? I really love your works!!! thank you 😊

Friends with Benefit to Lovers - Wonwoo

a/n: thank you for all the luv, xoxo 💋❤️

warnings: suggestive ending, angst, fluff, being left out, reconciliation.

you and Wonwoo have been tight since freshman year, forged through late-night cram sessions, shared slices of greasy pizza, and endless games of FIFA. it's that kind of friendship where you know each other's quirks better than your own.

one friday evening, you find yourselves at a frat party, the air thick with the scent of cheap beer and the bass from the speakers pounding against your chest, you're just happy to be along for the ride, nursing a red cup of something that tastes suspiciously like punch.

you watch from a distance as a girl from Wonwoo's course sidles up to him, their conversation growing more animated by the minute. part of you wants to intervene, to remind Wonwoo of your existence, but another part—the stubborn part—refuses to budge. so you sit there, nursing your drink and pretending not to care. 

you had drunk so much that the party went by too quickly, the cheap alcohol from the punch felt like a punch to your liver. some of your friends still tried to talk to you, but your social battery had already run out.

so, you stay put on the worn-out couch, drowning your thoughts in another cup of punch that's probably more sugar than anything else. the party is winding down, people stumbling out the door in twos and threes, but you're stuck here, waiting for Wonwoo's ride back to the dorms.

time stretches on, each minute feeling like an eternity as you wait for Wonwoo to notice you. finally, he appears in front of you, his expression unreadable. "let's go?" he says, his tone flat.

you stand up without a word, ignoring his outstretched hand as you make your way to the door. the car ride is suffocating in its silence, each passing mile stretching the tension between you until it feels like it might snap.

back in the dorm, you head straight for the bathroom, needing a moment to yourself. as you're drying your hair with a towel, Wonwoo's voice cuts through the silence like a knife. "why are you like this?" he demands, his frustration palpable.

you whirl around, towel still clutched in your hand. "remembering my existence now?" you snap. Wonwoo's taken aback, his eyes widening in surprise.

"what's that supposed to mean?" he asks.

you square your shoulders, refusing to back down.

"it means you've been ignoring me all night, and now you expect me to act like everything's okay? i'm not a mind reader, Wonwoo. i can't just pretend like nothing's wrong."

"are you telling me this because of soojin?" he asks, his voice tinged with frustration.

you roll your eyes, unable to mask your irritation. "like it's not obvious," you mutter under your breath.

Wonwoo's expression softens, and he takes a step closer, reaching out as if to touch your arm. "look, she's just a girl from my class. we were talking about a new project, that's all. there's no need to feel jealous."

you scoff, cutting him off before he can finish.

"jealous? you think i was jealous?" you shoot back, incredulous. "no, i wasn't. i just didn't want to go to a party and be alone the whole fucking time!"

you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair in exasperation.

"yes, i was with my friends," you concede, your tone softer now. "but i came with you, Wonwoo. and i... i wanted to spend time with you."

"i know, i know," he starts, his tone apologetic yet tinged with frustration. "but i thought you'd be fine with your friends for a bit. i didn't mean to make you feel left out."

you let out a heavy sigh, crossing your arms over your chest.

"it's not just about being fine with my friends," you say, your voice quieter now, tinged with hurt. "i came here with you, Wonwoo. i wanted to spend time with you. but instead, i felt like i was just tagging along while you hung out with someone else."

Wonwoo's shoulders slump, his gaze dropping to the floor as he rubs the back of his neck.

"i didn't realize you felt that way," he admits, his voice quiet.

"well, now you do," you reply, crossing your arms over your chest. "and it sucks feeling like i'm just some afterthought."

you collapse onto the couch, the weight of the argument draining every ounce of energy from your body. you're exhausted, emotionally spent, and all you want to do is close your eyes and forget about the whole thing.

but before you can even think about resting, Wonwoo kneels down in front of you, his expression soft with concern. you meet his gaze, the weariness in your eyes mirrored in his own.

"hey," he says gently, reaching out to take your hand in his. "are you okay?"

you nod, a small sigh escaping your lips. "yeah," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wonwoo squeezes your hand, his touch warm and comforting. "i'm really sorry about earlier," he says, his voice filled with sincerity. "i didn't mean to upset you."

you manage a weak smile, the tension in your chest easing slightly at his words. "it's okay," you assure him, the weight of the argument already starting to feel lighter.

Wonwoo leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours. "i just want you to know that you mean a lot to me," he murmurs, his words a whispered promise. "I didn't realize how much my actions were affecting you. you're not just some afterthought, I promise."

you feel a weight lift from your chest as he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. 

his tongue finds its way into your mouth, exploring every crevice with a familiarity that makes you mewl. you melt into his embrace, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer as if you never want to let him go.

that was another thing about Wonwoo – he had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world, like nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment.

as the kiss deepens, you lose yourself in the sensation of his lips against yours, the taste of him lingering on your tongue like a sweet addiction.

he pull back slightly so both of you can breathe.

"you're not just my friend," wonwoo confesses, "you're... you're so much more than that."

your heart feels like it's about to burst from your chest as you search his eyes.

"I've been scared to say it, scared to admit it even to myself," Wonwoo admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "but I can't deny it any longer. I love you."

"I love you too," you whisper, the words spilling from your lips before you can stop them. "I've loved you for so long."

he kisses your forehead, your lips, giving the smile that you've always loved.

you pull back, caressing his chin and jaw with your hands.

"you know," you murmur, "just because you're sorry doesn't mean i'm going to go easy on you."

Wonwoo chuckles "i wouldn't expect anything less," he replies.

you smirk, feeling a surge of confidence coursing through you. "good," you say, your tone teasing. "because i have a few ideas about how you can make it up to me."

[im-constantly-fangirling]

Wandering Home

Summary: As a bartender, you know every single face in Jackson. When a grumpy but kind-at-heart traveler makes his way into the diner you work at, you can't help but be curious.

No Outbreak au!Joel Miller x afab!reader

Word Count: ~10k

Warnings: cursing, slight reference of Parks and Rec towards the end, mentions of self harm (not reader), smut [dirty talk, praise and slight degradation kink, oral sex (f receiving), allusion to breeding kink, choking, dom-ish Joel]

Note on smut: If you don't want to read the smut, skip the scene in between the two *s!

Masterlist

Working at the diner in Jackson was no easy job.

It seemed that people had a borderline excessive appetite for alcohol- and they relied on you to fulfill it. You didn’t mind the work, as it numbed you the way a bottle could, but you supposed you could do without the yelling, obscene comments, and the general carelessness of the people who couldn’t really hold their liquor.

The one benefit you found with being a bartender was information. Every small town had its fair share of gossip, and Jackson definitely delivered. Travelers came and went, and those who stayed would alter Jackson’s social routine  just a little bit. You were a town full of shattered pieces of what were once whole people, but those pieces of glass joined to make a stunning mosaic- no matter how jagged and uneven it was.

It was just another ordinary day when the door to the bar opened, revealing an unfamiliar face. A swift silence wafted through the bar before the man walked in and Tommy followed behind. A sigh of relief seemed to go through every one. The bar resumed its normal revelry.

You were cleaning a glass with a rag when Tommy and the man walked up to the bar. “Y/n, I’d like you to meet my brother, Joel.”

You smiled at him, putting the glass down and flipping the rag over your shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Joel,” you greeted him. He didn't respond with more than a grunt and a nod, but you didn’t mind. He had dirt smudged over his face, his flannel shirt, his forearms. Scars adorned any amount of skin that showed. And those eyes…

Holding his gaze, you almost saw the emptiness behind them. As if he had nothing left in him. This was a man who had seen hell.

If Tommy noticed his brother’s grumpiness, he certainly didn’t care to comment on it. “Y/n’s the best bartender in town. If you treat her real nice, she might slip you a free drink or two,” he said, whispering the last part conspiratorily.

You chuckled, lightly smacking Tommy on the shoulder. “Don’t go around telling everyone, now,” you teased. “But since you’re Tommy’s brother, I’ll get you your first drink on the house. Any friend of Tommy’s is a friend of mine.”

Joel nodded gratefully- or you understood it to be gratefully- before clearing his throat. “I’ll just take the strongest whiskey you’ve got.” Even his voice was rough. You wondered if there was a single part of him that the world hadn’t taken away from him. “But don’t go making a habit out of giving me a free drink. I’d be more than happy to pay,” he declared while taking a seat. The soft southern lilt of his voice made you smile. It had been a while since you heard that accent.

Tommy sat on the bar stool and leaned his head in his hand. “And I’ll take some gin, please.”

You turned around, letting the brothers get reacquainted while you served them their drinks. Their voices got drowned out by the laughter in the bar- but every now and then, when business was slow, you’d quietly make your way over to their side of the bar. 

“-she’s everything to me, Tommy. I’ll take some of her shifts. After everything she’s gone through, she deserves to just relax,” you heard Joel say.

Huh, you wondered. Didn’t peg him for the married type. You couldn’t deny your disappointment, but you couldn’t stop smiling lightly. The grumpy man had a soft spot. It was odd but endearing to watch his eyebrows round out at the edges.

Tommy lightly hummed. “As long as the work gets done, I don’t think that’ll be an issue.” He paused. “Just…be careful, Joel. People around here are really close knit. You don’t want to go around pissing people off by being all-”

“Pissy?” Joel finished, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Look, I don’t plan on staying long, anyway. I’ll get out of your hair-”

“Ma’am, can I get another?” you heard a man’s voice call out. He was almost slumped against the bar, his hand held up limply in the air. Great, you thought. Just what I needed to end rush hour.

You wiped the back of your hand against your forehead. “Bill, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” you trailed off.

Bill didn’t seem to like that answer, and you felt your heart start speeding up. “Just give me one more! I wasn’t fucking asking,” his voice slurred, echoing throughout the bar. It was as if he sucked the life right out of the building. No one moved.

You stared at Bill, your eyes hardening. “This happens every week, Bill. Aren’t you sick of this little tradition we have going on? Cause I am.” You put your hands together into a fist and leaned against the bar, letting your face get close to Bill’s. “You reek of piss and you’re acting like a lazy bum. How about you go back home and sleep the alcohol off before you get dragged out?”

Bill’s sweaty hands grab your arm. “What the fuck did you say?”

You felt your palms start sweating. “Bill,” you said calmly. “Get a hold of yourself, okay? You don’t gotta be like this.” Even with all your bravado, you didn’t love the idea of Bill’s anger being directed solely toward you. He was a 210 pound, six foot tall man. You knew how to pick your battles.

Bill growled loudly at you, spit flying from his mouth, making your face scrunch up with disgust. At the sound of his growl, several other townspeople stood up from their chairs, getting ready to intervene if needed. You saw them all slightly leaning forward, as if they’d run for Bill the second he stepped out of line.

One of Bill’s hands let go of your arm in favor of roughly grabbing your chin. You closed your eyes and tried turning away from his grip, but his alcohol ridden mind had no semblance of propriety, and he held your chin and cheeks in a vice like grip. “Listen here, you insolent-”

“Hey!” another voice boomed. It was rough, like the feeling of the tough boar bristles on your hair comb. Joel. “Don’t touch her!”

“Joel, she’s got this,” you heard Tommy say quietly. “You can’t go around making enemies on your first day.”

“Fucking hell, ”Joel grumbled at his brother. He stood up from his bar stool and walked over to where Bill was hunched over the counter, squeezing your chin as if he wouldn’t rest until the blood flow stopped. “Are you going to let go, or am I going to have to make you?”

Bill sneered at Joel. “I’ll do whatever I damn well like! Who the fuck even are you?”

Joel glared at him before roughly tearing Bill’s hands off of you. “Who the fuck are you to hurt the woman who’s been putting up with your shit for god knows how long?”

You glanced at Tommy with worry. He seemed to understand your silent plea because he got up and placed a secure hand on his brother’s shoulder. “How about I take Bill home, alright Joel?”

Joel kept glaring at Bill, as if he was putting a large amount of self-control into not teaching Bill a lesson, but he ultimately huffed lightly and moved out of Tommy’s way. Tommy put an arm around Bill’s shoulder, pushing him straight out of the bar, saying “Come on, Bill, you know Mary’s probably worried sick about ya.” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Poor Mary.

Joel, to your surprise, didn’t accompany his brother to escort Bill back home. Instead, after watching the pair leave the bar and shut the double doors, he simply turned around to face you. “I’m uh,” he paused, scratching at his face. “I’m sorry about all the fuss. Just didn’t wanna see him disrespect you.”

You stroked the place where Bill had a vice grip on your arms, hoping that it wouldn’t bruise the next day. “I’m very grateful, Joel,” you said, smiling. “And I know you didn’t make a friend out of Bill, but I hope you know you made a friend out of me.” 

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

Joel quickly became a regular at your diner, but he never ordered any food. He’d walk in through the doors and walk directly towards the bar, planting himself in the same barstool and drinking the same whiskey. You never really minded. He always treated you with respect, made good on his promise to pay for every drink going forward, and occasionally stepped in to help you when a townsperson got a little too drunk.

Neither of you talked much, but you quietly learned things about each other. You noticed his wardrobe seemed to consist solely of different colored flannels and jeans. He spoke in a variety of intricate grunts, ranging from “hey” to “thank you.” Truly, Joel was a verbally gifted man.

Tonight wasn’t anything different. The diner was quite barren, with just a few people sitting amongst the tables, eating with close friends and family. The clink of the alcohol bottles was coupled with soft chuckles and the scraping of forks against ceramic plates.

Joel was sitting towards the left side of the bar, leaning against the stool he always inhabited. “Hey,” he said. “Can I-”

You smiled at him, your hands leaning against the countertop. “-get a whiskey? Surely we can skip the pleasantries now, Miller,” you jested lightly. Turning around, you grabbed Joel’s favorite whiskey and a glass. “How’s Jackson treating you?”

Joel grunted, and you expected that to be the end of your discussion, as it usually was every night. But instead, while you poured out a generous amount of whiskey, you heard Joel’s rough voice say, “It’s been pretty good.”

You handed him the glass. “I’m glad you like it here. I know we’re a small town, but we’re not so bad once you get used to us.” You took out your rag and started wiping down the counter. 

Joel sipped his whiskey, his red flannel pulling open a little to reveal his grey shirt underneath. You couldn’t help drifting your eyes toward his chest, but the second you caught yourself you went back to gazing at the counter, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He’s married, you thought to yourself, angrily. Behave.

Although there’s nothing wrong with accidentally looking, I guess.

He set down his glass on the counter and let out a little sigh. “Y’all definitely get a lotta snow.”

You chuckled, leaving your rag on the counter for a moment. “Yeah, it took me a while to get used to. Us southern folk just aren’t made for this type of cold.”

Joel’s eyebrow lifted slightly, intrigued. “You from the south?”

“I’m from Texas,” you revealed. “Life just forced me up north, but nothing quite feels like Texas.”

He slightly smiled, and you were almost shocked. Not once in these last few weeks did you see Joel smile, and you were confused as to why he would hide such a beautiful sight from the world. It was like the troubles of life lifted off his shoulders for just a moment, and you saw the Joel that could have been. “I’m from Texas, too. Austin.”

“No kidding,” you sighed. “You don’t see a lot of us this far north. It’s a shame. I’ve never met a friendlier group of people than down there,” you said wistfully.

Joel took another sip of his whiskey. “Well, one day you gotta go back down there. Not that I mind Jackson, but-”

“Heya,” a voice interrupted Joel. You turned to see Adelaide, your neighbor, sitting in a barstool to your right. She looked like she had just come off of work, as she was still wearing a sweater with her teacher name tag clipped near her left breast. “Sorry, did I interrupt something?” 

You smiled and shook your head. “It’s okay, Addie. Can I get you anything? You don’t usually get outta school this late.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Joel had gone back to sipping at his whiskey and staring at the wall of bottles behind the bar, as he normally did when he came to visit. A small pit of disappointment stayed in your stomach. You had just gotten him to talk.

Addie sighed, twirling her brown hair around her finger. “I wanted to get ahead on grading cause the end of the school year is coming up,” she said. “And god knows I need more time to deal with all that work.”

You put your hand on hers, tilting your head. “You need to rest, Addie. You can’t keep working yourself to the bone.”

Addie waved her hand in a dismissive motion, scoffing. “I’m fine, don’t you worry. The work is distracting.”

You raised your right eyebrow. “Distracting from what?” you asked, pulling your hand back.

She leaned forward, some of her hair fanning out in front of her shoulders. “He cheated, y/n. He cheated, and then he left me, and I don’t wanna think about it more than I have to.”

Your jaw dropped, anger settling into your heart. “How could he? What’s wrong with him?”

Addie leaned back into her barstool, a stoic set to her jaw. “Apparently, Jace had even less of a brain than I gave him credit for. And do you know who he cheated on me with?” She paused. “Bill's wife Mary.”

Joel choked on his whiskey, spilling some onto the counter, and both you and Addie turned toward him. He looked nervous, ready to be faced with a barrage of insults for eavesdropping on your conversation, but Addie pointed at him and said, “Exactly! I had the same reaction!”

You chuckled, turning towards Joel apologetically. “I can get you another glass if you want, Miller. On the house.”

Joel grumbled and shook his head. “I told ya, I’m not gonna make a habit out of this free drink thing.”

You put your hands on your hips and sighed. “Well, think of it as a bribe for your secrecy. You’ve stumbled upon sacred gossip, Miller.” You turned towards Addie. “Don’t we need to buy his silence?”

Addie nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, of course. The whole town is going to be in over my head if we don’t keep this quiet.”

You turned back to Joel, looking at him pointedly. “So?” you questioned. “Do you accept our proposition?”

Joel let a small smile slip back onto his face again, and he nodded. “In the name of the greater good, I accept.” You beamed, grabbing his glass and filling it. Behind you, you heard Joel turn to Addie, saying, “For what it’s worth, Jace sounds like a dick.”

“He is,” Addie replied, matter-of-factly. 

You turned around and handed Joel another glass of whiskey before sighing. “Well,” you started. “I’m officially done for the day.”

Joel gulped his whiskey and stood up. “I’ll walk you home.”

You felt a lightness in your chest warm you up more than the fireplace in the diner. “It’s okay. I’ve got Addie with me.”

Addie slapped your hand lightly, and when you looked at her with confusion she simply looked back at you pointedly. “Well, it’s pretty dark out, so it wouldn’t hurt to have someone else with us.”

“I just wouldn’t want to bother you, Joel,” you said softly. 

Joel grumbled. “Nonsense. Consider it repayment for the first free drink.”

“Oh, alright,” you relented. “Let me just grab my bag.”

It was almost funny to watch a man as rough and scarred as Joel walk through town with two chattering, gossiping women. He was silent for the whole walk, but you knew he was listening intently. He’d shake his head with disappointment when Addie talked about Jace’s affair, and the anger and judgement that Jace had when Addie finally confronted him. You couldn’t help but smile when his body gave away his thoughts.

Unbeknownst to you, Joel’s eyes would occasionally flutter towards you, watching your face contort in between expressions of disbelief and annoyance at Jace. He held back a smile. There was something about how much you cared, how invested you were, that just made you such a warm, firey person. It was as if you could melt the snow falling on Jackson with merely your presence.

Joel had never liked the snow. Whenever it was cold outside, he found himself huddled near the fire.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

You were somewhat surprised when Joel stayed until the diner was closing and then offered to walk you home again.

“Joel,” you muttered. “You’ve already repaid me for the free drink with that one walk. And I’d really rather not bother you.

“You aren’t bothering me, sweetheart. If anything, consider this walk a repayment from you for me stopping Bill.” Joel put down his glass of whiskey, and you grabbed it to quickly wipe it down. “I could use the walk anyway. Ellie, my daughter,” he began, with a slight break in his voice. “She’s been coming back home a little later than I’m used to, and I’d rather not sit in my rocking chair on the porch waiting for her.”

You chuckled. “I didn’t know you had a daughter,” you said, grabbing your bag from underneath the bar cabinet. “How old is she?” you questioned while walking out from behind the counter.

“She’s a 14-year-old little rug rat, my Elllie,” he said, walking next to you as you both made your way out of the diner.

The cold, frigid air of Jackson hit the both of you. Small clouds of fog form in front of your nose and mouth as you make slightly ragged breaths, walking uphill on a path through Jackson. Your cabin wasn’t more than a five-minute walk from the diner, but it was still nestled away from the town center enough to have some semblance of privacy.

You laughed at the idea of Joel with a teenage daughter. “You should bring her around the diner. I don’t mind convincing the cook to slip Ellie a few snacks. I don’t want to brag or anything, but Allysa loves me and I’m sure it wouldn’t be much of a bother.”

Joel crossed his arms and shivered slightly. “I’ll tell her. She’d love to meet you. She’s a little chirpier than I am, so you’d both get along great.”

You took a glance at him. He had his eyes trained on the snow covered path, a slight frown on his face. You were overcome with the urge to say anything to wipe that frown off his face, to replace it with a smile, or even his usual flat lined mouth. “Aw, Miller. You’re not so bad.”

Joel smirked. “That’s high praise, sweetheart.”

Your heart fluttered slightly, and you tried your hardest to ignore it. “So. Who’s the lucky lady?”

“Huh?” Joel looked up at you, confused. “Oh. There’s none. I practically adopted Ellie, although Tommy insists she adopted me. But whatever way you wanna see it, no woman was involved in the process.” He paused. “I mean, other than Ellie herself, but to me she’s just a little girl-”

You interrupted him with your laughter. It was so strong you crossed your free hand under your stomach, trying to contain yourself. “Sorry,” you said through your laughter. “I just never thought I’d see you ramble like that.” Not married, huh. 

Even in the dark, you could see Joel blush. He wiped his finger on the bridge of his door, looking down with nervousness. “Well, don’t go around tellin’ everyone. I kinda like being the grumpy traveler.”

“You’re such a softie, Miller.”

Both you and Joel stopped in front of the steps that led to your front porch. You had garden beds lining the front wall, but the snow had killed the plants that had taken root in the dirt. It was one of the few things you hated about Jackson; you had to say goodbye to your plants every nine months. Few pretty flowers survived the winter.

Joel sighed, a large cloud of breath forming in front of his face and dissipating as soon as it came. “So,” he said, rocking on his heels. “See you tomorrow?”

You smiled. “I’ll have your whiskey ready, Miller.”

Neither of you moved. The wind blew, making you both shiver slightly, and you started climbing up the steps to your porch. “Actually, do you want to come inside?” you asked. “I could put on a cup of hot tea that you could walk back with. And I probably have one of my dad’s coats you could borrow.”

Behind you, you heard Joel’s shoes making patterns in the snow. “I guess Ellie won’t be back for a while still.” The wood of your front porch steps creaked along with the smile on your face. You could feel his presence behind you, heavy but soft, smelling of whiskey and pine and a hint of smoke. The fast beat of your heart echoed in your ears.

You grabbed your keys from your bag with shaky hands and opened your front door. Both you and Joel walked in, stomping off the snow that accumulated on your boots onto the welcome mat. “Sorry if it’s messy,” you say, flipping on the light switch. “I wasn’t planning for company.”

Joel grunted, walking past you to take in the living room. It wasn’t much, but you liked to think you filled your cabin some life.

There, in the center of the room, was a worn couch that had resided in your parent’s house before you moved out here. In front of the couch was the coffee table you’d painstakingly made by chopping the wood and making it from scratch. The dining table and chairs had been taken from Addie’s cabin after she obtained a better table. It wasn’t picturesque; it was bits and pieces of your life throughout the decades. A mosaic, just like Jackson.

“You’re welcome to sit,” you said, throwing your bag onto the corner of your couch as you did every day. “I’ll just put some tea on.”

Walking towards the far end of the living room, where the kitchen resided, you picked up your kettle and filled it with water. Joel sat on the couch, stroking the worn cloth. “It’s a pretty old couch,” he remarked quietly.

You chuckled while turning on the stove. “It used to be in my parent’s house,” you said. “He gifted it to me a long time ago.”

“Thank you, by the way,” said Joel. “For the tea. You didn’t really have to.”

“Come on, Miller. I’ve been serving you some kind of drink every day now. It’s our thing,” you teased. You were pleased when he laughed heartily. He’s more himself when we’re alone, you noted. I like it. 

You both let yourself sit in silence, waiting for the kettle to whistle. As you made some peppermint tea- the only kind you had at the moment- your eyes kept flickering over to Joel. He kept noticing little tidbits throughout your living room. 

His fingers stroked the stitched cut on the couch with an amused smirk on his face. “How’d this happen?”

“I think I was seven? I was really into knitting, but I overestimated how much damage a knitting needle could do. I think I got mad that I kept fucking up, and I just stabbed the couch.” You laughed. “My dad took one look at it and chuckled. He said it was cute how much I cared.”

You brought the mugs of tea over to the coffee table, setting them down. “I hope it’s not too bad. Serving alcohol doesn’t involve a lot of steps.”

Joel chuckled. “I can imagine you with knitting needles, just throwing a little mini tantrum over a blanket.”

You rolled your eyes. “Now I hope that tea is shitty.” You sat down on the couch, sitting right next to Joel even though there was ample room next to you. “And, for your information, I’m pretty good at knitting. That blanket right here,” you said, pointing to the blanket haphazardly laid on the arm of your couch, “is purely a y/n production.”

Joel touched the blanket with his fingers, poking at the small holes. “You did a good job,” he said. Something in your stomach stirred at the praise, but you carefully tucked it away. No need to get any hopes up, you thought.

Humming, you picked up your mug and blew at the tea slightly. “Thanks, Miller.”

“Why do you call me Miller?” Joel asked. “Why don’t you call me Joel?”

You tilted your head. He noticed. “I call you Joel sometimes.” I didn’t know he’d notice things about me. 

He waved his hand dismissively. “You’ve called me Joel exactly twice.”

You didn’t know to tell him that calling him his first name felt like an intimate gesture to you, how you couldn’t imagine saying his name without the weight in your heart you felt every time he came into the diner. With every second he spent near you, that weight grew slowly but surely, and you didn’t know what to do with it. 

You thought he was married. Turns out he’s not. That weight in your heart starts feeling more like it belongs there, replacing the initial shame you felt for your soft spot. Shame that you tried to overcome by calling him Miller.

How do you tell a man that?

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I call Tommy, Miller too. I guess I figured the tradition should continue between brothers? I really don’t know.”

Joel looked at you, his brown eyes looking like a cloudy river. You so desperately wanted to see through to the bottom. “Call me Joel when it’s just us,” he said. 

You took a sip of your tea. “Of course, Joel.” 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, reaching for his mug. “Look at us, getting along. And Tommy said I couldn’t be pleasant.”

You chuckled before you remembered the time. “Oh my god. I was supposed to grab you a coat.” You stood up quickly, walking to the wardrobe behind your dining table, muttering, “I’d hate for you to miss Ellie coming home.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, there’s no reason to worry. I live two minutes away, I’ll be fine,” Joel said from the couch in a reassuring voice. It was as if his rough voice smoothed slightly around the edges. He spoke in long, legato lines instead of his regular staccato responses, and you couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped your mouth as you hunted for your dad’s coat.

“Still, Joel,” you said, reveling in the privilege of saying his name. “Ellie comes first.” You grabbed your dad’s wool coat and folded it over your arm, bringing it to Joel. “You can keep this if you want,” you told him. “I never really have a use for it.”

You felt the warmth of Joel’s hand against your arm for just a moment as he grabbed the coat from you. You barely heard him saying “thank you.” It was as if his voice had been muddled by some kind of blurry screen.

Your brain turns into a crush-riddled caveman. Warm, you think. Rough. But gentle. 

“No problem,” you say hoarsely. “Anything for you, Joel.”

As he leaves, you let the shape of his name coat your lips, playing with it in your cheek, letting it take its place. 

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

“Is your name y/n?” you hear a young voice ask behind you.

You spin around, eyeing the young girl with confusion. “Yeah, what can I do for you?” You smoothed down your shirt.

The young girl broke out into a smile and pointed at herself. “My name’s Ellie. Joel told me to stop by.”

You broke out into a smile, extending a hand out over the bar countertop. “It’s nice to meet you, Ellie.” She shook your hand enthusiastically, smiling from ear to ear. “Let me go back and tell the cook to make you some food. She’s making some tomato and mozzarella sandwiches right now, is that okay?”

“Oh fuck yeah,” she said. “I’ll take anything.”

You chuckled. “Your dad was right, you’re one chipper girl.”

She seemed to take pause. “He called me his daughter?” 

Rambling, you shook your head frantically out of nervousness. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that it wasn’t-” Oh god, I ruined everything. 

“No, you’re good, don’t worry. I just…” she trailed out. “He’s not a man of many words, ya know? I mean I’m sure you know- he doesn’t exactly scream ‘literate,’ but still. I know he cares, but sometimes it’s nice to hear it.”

You grinned, relieved. Reaching out to touch her shoulder lightly, you reassured her, saying “Aw, honey, Joel loves you more than anything. It’s so obvious to everyone that it’s insane. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, alright?”

Ellie’s eyes lit up. You told her you’d disappear for a second to tell Allysa to set aside an extra sandwich, and when you made it back, Ellie was sitting at the bar, leaning her head in her hands, staring at the alcohol bottles. Like father, like daughter, you supposed.

“The sandwich should be out soon, alright honey?” you said gently. 

“Are you from Texas too? You sound a little like Joel,” Ellie joked. 

You nodded. “I’m from San Antonio,” you revealed. “Actually, I wasn’t too far from where your old man Miller grew up. Maybe an hour's drive? I’m not sure anymore, it’s been a while since I was there.”

Allyssa brought out Ellie’s sandwich, setting it on the bar countertop. “Enjoy it, alright sweetie?” she said to Ellie. “I put a little extra cheese on yours.”

Ellie said thank you and dug into her sandwich, but unlike her father, she kept the conversation going. “I’ve been tryna convince Joel to go back to Austin, but he turns into this pain in the ass whenever I bring it up,” she said. “I’ll get him to go there eventually. If I annoy him enough, he caves.”

You chuckle. “Why doesn’t he wanna go? It seems like he misses it.”

“He’s had a hard life,” Ellie said protectively. “He’s been through some shit in Austin. I guess he just doesn’t wanna visit it again.”

You hummed. “I get that,” you said, sighing. “Anyway. How long are y’all staying in Jackson?”

Ellie shrugged. “It was supposed to be a few days, but I really like it here. There’s only so much traveling you can do before you get sick of not having a home, you know? Besides, I don’t think Joel wants to leave either.” She took another bite of her sandwich. “He keeps saying he’s gonna leave but he doesn’t pull the trigger,” she said, her voice muffled with her sandwich.

You reached under the bar cabinet and wordlessly handed her a napkin, which she took graciously. “I told him he’d get sucked into Jackson. It’s too cozy.”

“It really is. I’ve made friends! I went to go study with one of them the other night,” Ellie said, practically jumping up and down. “I hope Joel never wants to leave.”

Me too, you thought. 

You and Ellie kept talking about her life in Jackson, her school, the hobbies she’s picked up. You chuckled when she told you that she picked up archery. “I really like pointy things,” she said. “Bonus if they can kill someone.” 

You laughed. “When I was your age, I was obsessed with fencing. My dad signed me up for a class and everything, even though my mom said no. He’d take me in secret. He told me he was proud that if someone broke into the house, his daughter could protect him,” you told Ellie, laughing lightly. “He’d love you.”

“He sounds fucking awesome,” Ellie remarked. 

He was, you thought.

The joy in her eyes filled with more warmth than you thought possible. You had the urge to stroke her cheek, get her more food, and walk her home- anything to keep those eyes full of light. 

While Ellie was pattering about an embarrassing story of her and Joel on the road, she brushed some crumbs off of her fingers onto the plate. Your eyes involuntarily flickered down to the movement. You saw a few, parallel, thin scars underneath her wrist, just barely covered by the fold of her elbow. Something in your heart tightened to the point of pain, and you couldn’t bear to look Ellie in the eye for a little while.

You found yourself looking down at the bar counter, hoping Ellie didn’t notice what you’d just observed. Counting the number of scars, you branded the number in your mind. Nine. 

You’d go insane if you found a tenth in the future.

Keeping up a normal pretense, you both chatted until the lunch rush hour entered, prompting Ellie to push her plate towards you and stand. “I should probably head out and let you get back to your job,” she said. “But we should do this again.”

You grinned from ear to ear. “You’re welcome anytime, honey.” You lightly grabbed her hand with both of yours. “Be careful with archery, okay? I don’t wanna see any major injuries,” you said, a slight motherly tilt in your voice.

Ellie put her other hand around yours and squeezed lightly. “I won’t, I promise.” 

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

Joel stopped by the diner a few days later. He came in later than usual- almost five minutes before closing- and sat down in his barstool, panting lightly as he sat. 

You had been wiping down the counter when his presence made itself known. “Are you okay, Joel?” you asked. “Let me get you a glass of water.” You were grateful that the diner was completely barren, with even Allysa having gone home, leaving just you and Joel in the space. Your heart would have broken if Joel was seen in such a vulnerable state by people who didn’t understand him.

Please let me help, you thought. Don’t be all tough around me.

Pouring him an ice-cold glass of water, you decided to walk around the counter and sit next to him instead of your usual position. “Joel?” you questioned him again.

He didn’t respond, opting to gulp down the whole glass of water. “Just gimme a minute.”

You nodded. Joel was shaking slightly, and you slowly decided to stroke his arm gently- up and down, feeling the wrinkles that formed on his flannel from the motion. Under different circumstances, you might have lept with glee at the realization that Joel didn’t move when you touched him; in fact, he leaned into your hand. “You’re okay, Joel,” you reminded him. “I’m here.” You kept repeating reassuring phrases as he calmed himself down.

Eventually, he put his hand over yours, stopping it from its repetitive motion. “M’sorry,” he said. Before you could interrupt him to insist that there was nothing to be sorry about, he continued on. “Just had to come see you.”

You reached out to touch the area between his shoulder and his neck lightly. “Please don’t be sorry. I’d rather see you in front of me than know that this happens when I can’t help.”

Joel’s head hung down low and he groaned, seeming tired from his day’s events. “I just don’t wanna be a bother, but nothing else was helping.”

You toed with the intimate line between the two of you, desperately wanting to outright cross it but refusing to do so without his indication. It was frustrating, this dance. But the last thing you wanted Joel to feel around you was uncomfortable, so instead of cupping his cheek the way your fingers were itching to, you simply moved your hands down and gripped his hands lightly. “You’re not a bother, Joel. You’re never a bother. You’re practically the highlight of my day.” You paused. “Is that what this is about? Do you think I- sorry we- don’t want you?”

Joel tilted his head. “Part of it, I guess.” He sighed heavily. “Is it okay if we go back to your place? Ellie’s got a slumber party so I don’t really got anyone waitin’ on me.” He wiped his face. “Only if you wanna, of course,” he added, rushed.

“Nonsense, Joel. You’re always welcome over.” And with that, you both set out on your daily walk- except this time no words were exchanged.

You’d glance over to the man next to you, your heart dropping whenever he moved out of the ordinary. He scratched his beard. Beat. He cracked his knuckles. Beat. He almost tripped. Beat. Such a contrast to the careful, meticulously observant man you had come to know.

“Joel,” you whispered to him when you’d arrived in front of your porch. “Will you tell me what’s going on?”

You both walked inside, and Joel immediately walked over and slumped onto your couch. “Today’s my daughter’s birthday,” he revealed.

“Oh,” you said, confused. “I didn’t know it was Ellie’s birthday.”

Joel shook his head. “My other daughter. Sarah.”

You made your way next to Joel, sensing the sensitive subject he was going to reveal to you. “What happened with Sarah?”

Joel’s eyes closed, and he leaned his head back, his eyelids scrunched in a phantom pain you wish you could’ve waived away with your hands. “She passed away, a few years back. Drunk driving accident.” He breathed deeply. “It’s why I ended up here, I guess. Just couldn’t bear to go back home when she- she,” his voice broke.

Fuck the line between us, you thought. You engulfed him in a hug, his large frame serving as a strong structure for you to lay your head against. “It’s okay,” you said lightly. “You don’t have to finish that sentence.”

He’s shaking, you noticed with tears lining your eyes. My Joel is shaking.

“She was everything to me. She was the only thing that mattered to me before Ellie, y’know? I’d do anything just to see her smile again,” he revealed. “Anything.”

You let a tear fall, staining Joel’s flannel a deep, dark color. “I’m so sorry, Joel.” You stroked his back over and over again, letting Joel rest against you.

“I kept wandering from city to city, afterward,” he revealed. “Didn’t really stay for longer than a week. And then I met Ellie. Her parents threw her out and she had nowhere to go. She’s so much like Sarah that it scared me, and I gave Ellie a bit of a hard time cause of it.” He took in a breath. “They’re both pieces of my soul, Sarah and Ellie. I’m like half a man.”

His head moved to the crook of your neck, and you felt the warmth of his deep breaths against your skin. Greedily, you let your hand drift to his hair, toying with it lightly. “Take your time, Joel,” you whispered. “I’m here.”

Joel hummed against your neck, and you felt the vibrations leave goosebumps in their wake. “Thank you,” he said. “For being here.”

You didn’t know how to tell him that it was a privilege to hold him up, so you simply left a light kiss on his temple. “I know how you feel, a little,” you revealed. “My dad died a few years ago. Lung cancer. It felt like I’d lost a part of me.” You took in a deep breath. “Sometimes I still feel like he’s around, kind of like a phantom limb that I can’t use. It honestly hurts more when that happens. It just reminds me of all the love that I lost.

“But then I remember that losing that love just meant I had it at some point in my life. I had the best father the world could have ever given me. He made me who I am, and I try to remember that. Sarah had so much love in her life,” you said, placing a gentle palm against the side of his face. “She had you. You did for her what my father did for me. I know it’s not much, and nothing can bring her back, but even if this means nothing, you need to know that she loved you more than I can possibly express.”

You felt cold, wet circles fall onto your neck like the light pitter-patter of rain. Kissing Joel’s temple again, you whispered, “She made you who you are. That’s more evidence that she’ll always be with you.”

You heard Joel whimper lightly before the floodgates opened. “Oh, baby,” you said sympathetically. “Let it out. Let it all out.”

You and Joel sat there on the couch, lumped together in a tight embrace, for what felt like hours. And, when Joel had finally let out every tear that he had in him, he finally lifted his head out of the crevice between your neck and shoulder and looked at you with his puffy eyes.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Joel said, his voice slightly nasally. “I didn’t mean to-”

“If you complete that sentence, I’ll slap you so hard you’ll see stars, alright? That’s what friends are for,” you told him, internally cringing at the word friends.

Joel’s head tilted. “Friends?” he asked. “I don’t know if friends do what we do, sweetheart.”

You were suddenly very aware that almost every part of yours and Joel’s upper bodies were practically glued together. You were looking up at him, your breath bouncing off of Joel’s chin, his scruff occasionally tickling your cheekbone when one of you moved slightly. 

You hesitated. After what Joel had just told you, was tonight really the best time to toe the line? “Joel, I don’t want to do anything you’d regret. Not when you’re in this state of mind.”

He nodded, understanding. “I’d agree with you if I hadn’t felt like this for weeks,” he said. “It’s hard for me to not feel like this, not when I hear Ellie raving about you after she visited. Not when you look as breathtaking as you did that first day that I saw you, serving me a glass of free whiskey like I was worth a damn.” He leaned his forehead against yours. “I’ve done nothing for you, absolutely nothing, and yet you’ve given me everything you can. You laugh at my jokes even when they’re not funny, you make me tea just so I don’t walk home cold.”

Joel sighed, his breath hugging your face in a warm blanket. “All these weeks, I came every day just to see you. It infuriated me sometimes, knowing that you had no idea the effect you had on me. As if you didn’t know how my eyes were practically glued to you when you weren’t looking.”

 Your eyes closed. “Look at me,” he urged. You pulled back, looking him in the eye. “Do you really think I don’t like you? The only thing keeping me in Jackson is you.” 

You looked down at yours and Joel’s now joined hands. “Joel…”

“Sweetheart,” he echoed. 

You looked back up at him. “I don’t know what to say.”

Joel’s palm moved up to cup your face. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Every reason why Joel shouldn’t be with you flashed through your mind. You’re too clingy. You talk too much. You freak out over small things. You don’t know how to let things go. You’ll burden him. You’ll force him to stay where there’s snow, even though he hates it.

But when you look at Joel, a selfish part of you doesn’t care. You don’t care that this could blow up in your face, the way every other relationship of yours had. 

“Fuck it,” you whisper to yourself before you let your lips touch Joel’s. His hand comes to the back of your head, locking you in place while he patiently explores the curve of your lips, the slight noise you make when he really focuses on your lower lip. Your hands make their way around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. More, more, more, you thought.

You pull apart but neither of you stray far, with Joel’s forehead leaning against yours. “Still think we’re just friends, sweetheart?” he asked you.

Chuckling, you left a peck on his lips. “The bestest friends.”

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

Joel didn’t leave your cabin that night, instead opting to sleep on the couch with your knitted blanket. You protested heavily, insisting that there was space in your bed for him to rest, but he met every single plea with a simple answer: “I’m a little old-fashioned, sweetheart.”

Awaking the next morning, you smiled before pulling away your blankets faster than you ever had before so you could greet the man resting on your couch downstairs. You expected to find a man-shaped lump on your couch, but instead, you were greeted with the smell of pancakes and eggs, and the slightly chaotic sounds that was Joel Miller attempting to cook.

You chuckled lightly to yourself. Who thought this rugged man would wake up early to make pancakes? you thought. “Good morning, Joel.”

Joel turned around from the stove, clad in an unbuttoned red flannel and jeans. He looked picturesque in this light, the morning rays of sunshine hitting his skin just right. His hair looked a shade lighter than usual through the sunlight. You let your eyes wander to his chest, going lower, and lower, and-

 “Mornin’ sweetheart,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind me fiddling around here. Just wanted to make you breakfast as a thank you for last night.”

Walking towards Joel, you crossed your arms. “What did I say about that? There’s no reason to thank me, and there’s no reason to say sorry.” You paused only to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling yourself closer to him. Joel’s arms snaked around your waist tightly. If you never moved from this position, you’d consider it an upgrade from your life. “But, since I like pancakes, I’ll overlook it just this once.”

Joel chuckled and grinned. “Aren’t you selfless,” he murmured, bringing his face closer to yours. 

“Hmm, I am-”

Joel stopped you from finishing your sentence with his lips, softly caressing your tongue with his. Unlike last night, he took his time when kissing you, moving in slow, languid movements- like he had all the time in the world, or if he didn’t have time then he just didn’t care. 

He pulled away and you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a small intake of breath. Joel smirked. “So is this what gets you to stop talking, huh?”

You rolled your eyes and slapped his shoulder. “So you want me to stop talking?” you asked him, jest in your voice.

Joel tilted his head and let out a light chuckle, his scruff scratching your forehead with the movement. “You know I didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” you said, slight reverence in your voice. 

Joel let you go, grabbing the spatula he’d taken out of your drawer and he went to flip a pancake that lay on your pan. “I hope you like chocolate chip. It’s Ellie’s favorite.”

You hugged Joel from behind. “I’d love that, Joel.”

And so you spent breakfast with Joel, eating chocolate chip pancakes at your dining table like you were kids again. For the first time in a while, you let yourself drench your pancakes in maple syrup. You and Joel chatted about your lives: Joel about his trip from Austin to Jackson, the weird errands he’d run to earn money fast- and you about life after your father’s death, how you decided you’d live in a small town full of snow purely because your father despised the sweltering hot weather of Texas.

You found it refreshing, that you and Joel could now talk freely. It was like that kiss last night had unlocked something in him. You found that you didn’t mind this change.

* (smut below)

Putting the dishes in the sink, Joel cleared his throat. “Do you have anywhere you need to be?”

You shook your head. “It’s my day off. Do you know when Ellie is going to be back home?”

“Oh, she won’t be back for a while. That little shit loves to push how long she can stay out.” Joel walked up to where you stood near the sink, rinsing the maple syrup patches off of your plates. “Which works out great for us.”

You grabbed Joel’s arms loosely with your hands, reveling in the feel of his muscles underneath his skin, the veins that would occasionally stick out on his skin. “It truly does,” you said slyly. “What are you planning, Miller?”

He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling your small frame towards his, and you gasped lightly at the feeling of your lower stomach being glued to his body. “Not much,” he murmured. He grabbed your chin with his fingers. “Nothing important.”

“Hmm, I’m sure,” you said, inching your face closer to his. “Joel?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

Your eyes flickered closed. “How flexible are you when it comes to being traditional?” you asked him, slightly breathless.

His lips brushed against yours as he answered, “Right now? Tradition is the last thing on my mind,” he said, punctuation his point by letting his hands wander to the patch of skin between your back and your ass. He placed a short, chaste kiss on your lips. “But I won’t do anything unless you say.”

Your breaths mingled with each other's, and you swore your heartbeat had never been faster. “Please,” you asked.

“Please what?” he retorted calmly.

You almost whined with disappointment. “You know what I’m asking, Joel.”

Joel pulled back a little, and you couldn’t stop the slight whine that left your mouth. “I’m gonna need you to spell it out for me.”

“Just fuck me,” you said breathlessly.

Joel smirked before grabbing your face and kissing you, a smile present on his lips the whole time. An arrogant smile. Damn that bastard. 

He pulled away from your lips momentarily to began skimming your cheek, your jaw, your neck. He paid special attention there once he heard the obscene moan that left you when he sucked at just the right spot, leaving a bright reddish-purple mark in its place. “Joel,” you breathed.

“I love it when you say my name,” he whispered into your neck. “No one says it like you.” His hands started wandering to the bottom of your pajama shirt, slipping underneath to softly begin the upward climb to your breasts. “No bra, huh?” he questioned, palming your breast.

“Didn’t uh,” you started between gasps. “Didn’t think I needed one. Sorry if that was-” You were interrupted by Joel’s mouth on yours, sucking lightly on your lower lip making you moan loudly.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” he said. “I’d sooner shoot myself in the leg than tell you to wear a bra around me.” 

You laughed, and he cupped your face with his other hand. “So beautiful,” he murmured. “So mine.” He went back to paying attention to your breasts, skimming his finger lightly over your hardened nipples. You saw the effect his exploration had on him; or, rather, felt the effect, as his crotch was pressing tightly against your stomach. 

Grabbing the hem of your shirt, you pulled the shirt over your head, leaving you topless in front of Joel. His hands froze, eyes skimming over your body. Feeling brave, you smirked and said, “You gonna do something, Miller?”

“Aren’t you mouthy,” he said, sarcasm evident in his voice. “I’ll take care of that soon.” With that, he guided you to your upstairs bedroom, throwing his flannel off on the way. You couldn’t help but admire the slight back muscles Joel had. There was almost no imperfection with this man.

When you reached your bedroom, Joel grabbed you by your shoulders and swiftly through you on your bed. Your cheap mattress squeaked lightly, and you laughed against your floral bedsheets. “I’ve thought about this so much,” he revealed, tearing down your shorts. He knelt on your floor, eye to eye with your panties, and you hoped there wasn’t a telltale dark spot on the fabric that would give away just how ready you were to fuck this man. “Ever since that first time I walked into the diner.”

You writhed slightly under his stare. “Joel, please just fuck me,” you begged lightly. “I’m not feeling very patient.”

You heard him chuckle and then felt his arm push down onto your lower stomach, keeping you in place. “But I am,” he said. He touched the center of your panties, forcing a gasp out of you. He chuckled again. “So needy.” He pulled your panties aside, finding you wet and glistening. Without warning, he licked a stripe up your pussy, making you let out a languid moan. “Best fucking breakfast I’ve had in years,” he proclaimed, pulling your panties off your legs. 

Joel kneads your thighs as he continues licking and occasionally sucking at your clit, and you reveled in the filthy sounds made by your wetness. He lazily keeps stroking your pussy with his tongue, letting his tongue slowly explore every crevice and find every sensitive point that ushered out the loudest whines.

“Oh, god,” you sighed. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

He flicked his tongue against your clit over and over again, stopping only to suck and lick and hum into your pussy. The vibrations keep pushing you closer and closer to the edge. And then you felt his fingers lightly tracing your lips before he stuck one finger in, curling it rapidly. “More,” you begged. “Fuck, please Joel- Oh!”

He added in a second finger, curling them both against that sensitive spot inside you that made you see stars, all while his tongue played with your clit. It was almost too much, all the sensations combined, and you were glad that Joel still had a hand holding your stomach down because your back started arching. “I'm so close, oh god, keep going!”

Joel’s resolve never wavered. Your moans gave him more than enough fuel to keep curling, keep licking, keep pleasuring you to the point of tears. He opened his eyes and looked at you from between your legs, and the sinful sight of that beautiful man feasting on you sent you over the edge. His tongue helped you ride out your orgasm whilst you moaned and shook and said his name over and over, Joel, Joel, Joel!

When he finally lifted his head and started climbing over you, he had a wicked smile on his face. “You’re even prettier when you come apart on my tongue, sweetheart.” His rough voice caressed your body as he made his way up to kiss you. You could taste yourself on him, but that just spurred you on.

“It’s not fair that you’re still wearing pants,” you remarked. 

“Then do something about it,” he replied. You smiled and let your hand slowly make its way down to his pants, lightly stroking his chest on the way down. You reached his zipper and palmed his cock through his trousers, making him hiss. “Don’t be a tease. I’ll make you regret it next time.”

“Oh,” you started. “So there’s going to be a next time? Someone’s confident,” you remarked while you unzipped his pants. 

Joel stood up and kicked his pants off as fast as he could. “I’ll fuck that attitude out of you soon enough, sweetheart.”

You grinned. “I’m waiting.” You made your way towards the middle of your bed, making yourself comfortable amongst the pillows. Your mouth almost frothed at the sight before you: a naked Joel Miller, cock slapped against his stomach, girthy and slightly red with need. 

“Someone’s staring,” Joel remarked, joining you on your bed.

“Do you blame me?” you asked. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he settled on top of you, his cock so close to where you needed him most. “You’re perfect.”

He cupped your face. “You’re one to talk,” he retorted. He shifted his hips slightly, groaning when some of your wetness got on the tip of his dick. “If I do anything you don’t like, just tap me three times on my arm, okay?” he said, sweetly. “And I’ll stop the second you do that.”

You nodded. “I trust you, Joel.”

He leaned down and kissed you, slowly, lovingly, softly. Such a contrast to how he handled you earlier. It almost made tears come to your eyes. This man, who looked so rough on the surface, had the softest heart you’d ever known.

Pulling away from your lips, he led his dick right to your entrance. “Now,” he said, jest in his voice. “Back to the fun stuff.” He slowly thrust into you, both of you gasping at the sensation. “Fuck, even your pussy is perfect,” he praised.

“Oh,” you moaned out when he bottomed out. He stayed there for a little, letting you adjust, but you could see the restraint it took in the way his body shook lightly. But you didn’t have much restraint either, and so you looked at him and said, “Fuck me like you mean it, Miller.”

You saw the gleam in his eyes and then it was over for you. He set a harsh, fast pace, the sound of your thighs slapping together filling your room along with your moans and his groans. “Such a good girl for me,” he said, punctuating each word with a thrust. “So fucking good.”

He pulled out only to move you slightly on your side and then lift your leg over his shoulder, allowing him to spread you out even more than before. He pushed in and you almost screamed with pleasure. “Fuck,” you moaned, trailing out the word. Joel cut you off by grabbing your neck with his hand, applying slight pressure, and choking you.

“There we go,” he cooed, thrusting into you hard. “See? See how it works out for you when you don’t give me attitude?” You interrupted him with a loud moan. “Such a beautiful, fucked out little slut.”

“I’m so close, Joel,” you said lightly, your eyes rolling back into your head. “Oh my god!”

Joel’s thrusts continued, sweat beading on his forehead. His grunts got louder and more breathy. “That’s it, just like that,” he said. “Gonna make you come around my cock, huh? That’s what you want?” 

You nodded enthusiastically, whispering a somewhat breathy sounding “Please! I’m so close.”

“Do it,” he ordered you harshly. “Come for me. Come for me like the good little slut you are,” he said while putting more pressure around your neck, choking you harder. You came even harder than before, shaking and writhing around his cock, and Joel kept thrusting into you. You whined with overstimulation.

Joel’s thrusts started getting sloppy, and soon he groaned “I’m gonna come,” before pulling out of you and pumping himself harshly. He came on your lower stomach. And while he knelt on your bed, out of breath, his eyes couldn’t help but watch his come drip down your stomach a little. “One day,” he began, “I’m going to fuck a baby into you.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows. “I’ll be counting down the days.”

* (smut finished)

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

Twelve months, two weeks, and four days later, you and Joel tied the knot. You had a small wedding in Jackson, with Tommy as Joel’s best man and Ellie as your maid of honor. Addie married the two of you, and you couldn’t be happier with your choice. She practically made you cry with her heartfelt speech, talking about the newfound friendship she had with Joel and how you had given her a brother she never had.

“You two are made for each other,” she had said. 

Both you and Joel had written your own vows to each other. You had the papers you wrote your vows on framed in your bedroom, and occasionally you found yourself reading Joel’s handwriting and marveling at your luck. His vows were shorter than yours- he was a man of few words- but my god, did he write powerfully.

“I’ve been to so many cities in my lifetime. Nothing ever really convinced me to stay, but then I came to Jackson and I saw you in that diner, standing behind the bar like an angel. I still remember how you looked like you glowed under those lights. And for the first time in my life, I felt like I wanted to stay.

“Sometimes I wonder if I was wandering around aimlessly in my life from city to city, just looking for you. And now that I’ve found you, I don’t want to spend a single day without you.”

You’d bawled like anything that day. You had an amazing husband, a beautiful step daughter, and a wedding that your father would have approved of. You felt him in the air around you that day. While you and Joel had your first dance, you remember feeling like someone had placed your hand on your shoulder; but when you glanced, no one was there.

I love you, Dad, you had thought to yourself that day. I love you so much.

Now, while you glanced at your newly made wedding photo album, you felt the memories rush into you like a wave. It had only been a month since then. You still missed that day.

“Sweetheart,” you heard a voice say from downstairs. “Do we have any more boxes to pack?”

You smiled. Joel. “Just one more,” you yelled back. “I’ll be down in a little!”

You stroked the cover of your wedding album and put it gingerly at the top of a filled cardboard box. The sight of your now barren bedroom made tears begin to line your eyes, but your stomach danced with excitement for the future. Before you could start sobbing with nostalgia, you picked up your box and carried it down the stairs. 

The creak of the stairs was music to your ears. It was a shame you wouldn’t hear it for a while.

Joel stood in the center of the living room, staring out the window while waiting for you. When he heard the telltale creak of the stairs, his head moved in your direction. “There you are,” he whispered. “Ellie’s sitting in the truck already.”

“Sorry, I was just caught up with all the memories of this place,” you responded apologetically. “It’s hard to say goodbye.”

Joel tucked you into his side, kissing the top of your head. “I know, sweetheart. We’ll be back eventually, I promise.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder. “I’m going to miss this place.”

“I will, too.”

You both relaxed for a few seconds before you heard a honk from the trunk. “Your daughter is getting impatient,” Joel said, laughing lightly.

“We should get going before she drives into the house,” you said teasingly. “Wouldn’t put it past her.”

You climbed down your front porch steps, going to the trunk of the green truck Joel had borrowed from Tommy. You placed the cardboard box in the back and pulled up the barrier. Well, this is it, you thought.

Austin, here we come.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧‧͙⁺˚･༓☾:･ﾟ

Tagged: @orcasoul

[psychologicalwarclaire]

Rising and Falling

Or, a oneshot set shortly after Arin betrays the ninja. Corruption arc Arin aftermath.

---

The flight back was the longest night of Sora’s life. 

No one spoke. 

No one looked at Sora. 

No one looked at Lloyd. 

No one talked about Arin. 

Sora wanted to. She wanted to scream and shout. She wanted to grab Lloyd by the shoulders and ask why Arin had abandoned them like that. She wanted to flare her powers, take over the engine, and turn the Bounty around immediately. She wanted to demand that they all go back. But they had nothing to go back to. Raz had pulled his little making-everyone-on-his-side-disappear trick. And this time, Arin had gone with him. 

Willingly. 

Not as a hostage, not as any part of a plan. Willingly. 

Sora would never forget the look in Arin’s eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he’d said. “You don’t need me. I need to get stronger. I need to find my family.” His eyes had flicked to Lloyd and his face had twisted. “My real family.” 

Shaking her head, Sora scrubbed away the tears in her eyes. She didn’t want to relive that moment anymore. But she had a sneaking feeling that it simply lived in her head now. Forever. 

The Bounty touched down at the Monastery. Every light was off. The only glow came from the red moon and a sliver of the white one. The faintest line of dawn pulsed along the horizon, dimming the stars. Sora turned to Lloyd, but he was gone. 

Nya put her hand on Sora’s shoulder. “Get some sleep.” It was the first thing anyone had said to her in hours. Nya’s own voice was husky. “It’s been a long night.” 

Sora stopped just outside of the Monastery gates. She couldn’t go in. She couldn’t go in. Without Arin it was empty. It was cold. It was nothing. 

There would be no scent of a freshly baked pie. There would be no giggles and cute little leg kicks as he read scrolls about his beloved ninjas’ adventures. There would be no laughter ever again, as far as Sora was concerned. 

“Nya. Where did Lloyd go.” 

Nya hesitated, clearly unsure if she should tell Sora. 

“Nya. Please.” 

“Check the far side of the Monastery. Outside of the wall. Be careful of the cliff.” She made to walk away, then stopped. “Make sure you eat breakfast. I know you probably don’t want to, but you should eat something.” 

Sora didn’t respond. She just started off around the outer edge of the Monastery wall. 

By the time she found him, it had lightened just enough for her to see her teacher’s silhouette against the dim sky.

Plopping down next to him, she noticed that he flinched away slightly. 

More silence. 

Chilly breezes ruffled Sora and Lloyd’s hair. 

“I’m sorry,” Lloyd finally said at last.

Sora didn’t say anything. She didn’t trust herself to speak. 

“I thought… I thought I could be your teacher. I thought that I could be like Wu. But I’m not.” Lloyd pulled his knees up to his chest. The motion was so innocently childish that Sora was momentarily taken aback. 

“I’ve failed you. I’ve failed Arin. I’ve failed Riyu. I’ve failed Wu. I’ve failed myself!” Pale purple sky reflected in his eyes as they slowly filled with tears. “I shouldn’t have tried to teach. I should have seen what kind of pressure Arin was under. I should have been a better teacher. I’m not Wu. I wanted to be, I just…” Lloyd buried his face in his knees. “I’m sorry. I understand if you want to leave.” 

Her mouth fell open in indignation. “L-leave?” 

“Why would you want to be taught by me anymore? You have no reason to stay now. I’m the worst teacher possible. You shouldn’t feel pressured to stay with someone as awful at this as I am.”

Gears turned in Sora’s brain. Her grief, her shock, her denial over Arin’s choice shifted. As the sun rose closer to the horizon, so did a new feeling in Sora’s gut. 

“So that’s it?” she snapped, her voice harsh. “We’re just giving up?” 

“You saw how he looked at me.” 

“SO WHAT?!” 

The sky lightened another shade, now tinging the clouds with hints of pink as Sora’s anger rose to the surface. 

“COULD YOU BE MORE SELFISH?!” 

Lloyd’s head snapped up. “Excuse me?” 

“‘Aw, poor me, poor me. I’m not as good as Master Wu. I lost my student because I wasn’t paying attention. Waaa, waaa, waaa.’ Okay, and?!” 

“Sora, you don’t understand. Master Wu–” 

“Oh enough about Master Wu already! I honestly don’t think he was anywhere near as perfect as you and Arin seem to think. I’ve read the scrolls, Lloyd. It sounds like he wasn’t this amazing mythical figure you see him as. It sounds like he didn’t tell you guys enough. It sounds like he didn’t always prepare you for this stuff. Heck, he didn’t even know the Merge was gonna happen until it was too late! This Wu guy clearly wasn’t perfect despite having years of experience on you.”

“Hey, don’t disrespect my uncle!”  

“You’re telling me that Wu was the perfect teacher to every single student he ever came in contact with? You’re telling me he never messed up, pushed too hard, or got too distracted?” 

“No, never– well.” 

Lloyd dropped his legs back into a meditation position. “There was Morro. His first student. Master Wu messed up with him big time.”

“See? Wu’s first student gave him issues too. It shouldn't be this big a deal–” 

“Sora, he accidentally drove Morro away. He died. He came back as a ghost. Possessed me. Tried to curse the world. Uprooted destiny. Trapped my father in the Cursed Realm.” His green eyes finally turned to her. The sky made them look… red. 

Sora had nothing to say.

Pink on the clouds darkened to scarlet streaks. Blood smeared across the sky. 

“So. So Master Wu wasn’t perfect.” 

“Well it’s clear that we’ve both messed up big time. You’re angry, Sora. I understand. But I just don't see how I can continue to teach–” 

“No!” 

The anger was back, twice as crimson as the sky. 

“I’m not gonna leave the Monastery! I have nowhere else to go! Arin is my family. And Arin is my home. I’m not staying here without him and I’m not leaving without him. I’m not doing anything without him!” 

“What if he doesn’t want to be saved? What if Raz corrupted him, or brainwashed him, or something that we can’t undo? We don’t know where they went or why exactly Arin felt the need to– Sora we just… can’t.” 

Shooting to her feet in time with the first golden sunbeams, Sora glared down at her teacher. 

“Stop thinking about yourself! Stop thinking about your failure! This is all of our fault. If I hadn’t made him think he did object-Spinjitzu that one time, or if I’d told him about it, or if I’d-I’d, I don’t know, talked to you about this first then maybe we wouldn’t be here.” 

Lloyd opened his mouth. 

“But we are here! And Arin is gone.” 

And it hit her. 

Sora sank to her knees. 

“Arin is gone, Lloyd. He left us. He left me.” 

She stared at the grass, ashen as its green mixed with glow of the stained sunrise. 

“I want him back.” She raised her head to give a hard, cold look to her teacher. Lloyd’s expression was unreadable. “I want him back.” Sora repeated. 

She stood up again, more slowly this time. Just as she did, the sun broke over the horizon, bathing her face in vermillion. 

“Ninja never quit.” 

Lloyd just stared for a moment. “I think that’s the first time you’ve said that.” 

“Yeah, well. Quitting isn’t an option. And if Arin’s not going to be a ninja then I’d better be a ninja for both of us.” 

Slowly, Lloyd got to his feet. “I don’t want to mess up again, Sora. I don’t want to lose you too. I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t…” he sighed. “I don’t know how we’re going to do this.”

“Well I’m doing it. I don’t know how exactly, but I’m gonna do it. You are welcome to join me, Lloyd.” 

Maybe it was the rising sun, but Lloyd's smile was warmer than she’d ever seen it. He held out his arms for a hug and Sora fell into it. She felt so small. 

“I can’t promise that I’ll be a perfect teacher. I can’t promise that I will be like Wu, or that I won’t be like Wu.” He squeezed tighter. “But I can promise that I’m going to try my hardest to make this little family of ours whole again.” 

Arin’s words seemed to echo in the air. 

My real family. 

“Okay,” Sora whispered, wiping her eyes. 

By the time they broke apart, the sun had risen fully. Messy red had given way to a pale, peaceful blue. 

“Let’s go get our boy,” Lloyd said. “No more moping. No more feeling sorry for myself.” 

“No more comparison to Wu?” 

“I’ll try.”

“That’s all Arin and I ever wanted of you.” 

Under the rays of a warm sun, teacher and student walked into the Monastery together, ready to piece themselves back together. 

[desertdollranch]

My miniature doll room

Hello and welcome to the doll room!

This was a special project made for me by my mom. She's a Barbie collector and loves crafting little room boxes for them with tiny realistic accessories. When she asked if I wanted a room box, I was tempted to say no because I'm not into Barbies or dolls their size, but then I saw, fully formed in my imagination, a miniature doll room. And she delivered. Pretty much everything you see in the above photo was made by her: the crib, the chair, the curtain, and even the potted plants!

I expected nothing less than this. I come from several generations of doll collectors, enthusiasts, and artists. My mom was already a talented miniature maker by the time I was born, having taken classes in making them for several years. Her classmates even made her this mini nursery to celebrate my birth! She also made this lovely Victorian dollhouse. She's the real deal when it comes to all things mini.

The Barbie here in the comfy chair represents me, and the comfy clothes I wear at home. She's holding her newest doll, a Zuru My Mini Baby. I'm glad that at least she has a silicone reborn baby doll, because I certainly will never be able to afford a life-sized one for myself. So I live vicariously through her in that way.

Sometimes Briana comes by for a visit! She's very careful when playing with the dolls, since some are vintage and fragile.

On the left is the chair my mom made. On the right are the mini American Girl posters. The reborn baby is in her stroller.

Most of her dolls stand on their shelves. My mom acquired most of these. I contributed the dolls on the bottom shelf, above the compartments. The one on the left is mini Isabelle Palmer (an American Girl crossover with McDonald's happy meal toys).

The next shelf above them is the American Girl doll shelf. These all came from Mega Bloks Construct sets. In the middle is Kit with her scooter and her dog Grace riding inside. Above that shelf are the tiny dolls. I bought the little porcelain doll on the left at last year's local doll show. And the top shelf is Disney and fantasy characters. I don't actually have any Disney dolls, but these look cute in the mini room, and I'm definitely not going for total accuracy here. That would be impossible.

Here's the bay window. My mom made the flowers and the green plant in the middle. She showed me how she made the colorful flowers and it's so easy, but my mind is still blown at how amazing they turned out.

The window is clear plastic. I added the scene out the window. It's from a calendar, and is a view of the San Francisco volcanic field in northern Arizona. It's a somewhat close resemblance to what I see when I look out my house's windows.

On the other side is the crib with the baby dolls. The three blonde babies are Barbie babies. I have no idea what the baby on the left is.

On this end of the crib are vintage Tiny Blessings dolls.

And the animal shelf is above the crib.

[nrilliree]

I will never not find it funny in the show that it’s been implied that Alicent has been the one constantly going after Rhaenyra in the time skip between 01x05 - 01x06/7 and Rhaenyra did absolutely nothing. But the minute Rhaenyra decided to stand her ground against Alicent in defence of her own son who Alicent had just demanded that his eye be taken - Alicent becomes absolutely hysterical.

Rhaenyra could’ve ended show!Alicent years ago without so much as lifting a finger if she wanted to.

Alicent has repeatedly put Rhaenyra and her children's lives in danger, even to death. For years she tried to take advantage of rumors (yes, rumors, without a DNA test she could only gossip) about the birth of Rhaenyra's children, even though she knew it could end badly for them. She turned her sons, her elder sons, against Rhaenyra's children. She used Criston to openly favor her sons over Rhaenyra's. She even used the fact that her son was injured to once again incite everyone against the origins of Rhaenyra's children. She tried to intentionally mutilate the child in a way that would kill him (because that was how she held the knife).

But it's Alicent who has reason to fear for her children's lives, not Rhaenyr? WTF? It was the TGs who had a ready-made plan to murder Rhaenyra and her family, not her…

All Rhaenyra did was suggest torture to force Alicent to confess. She was saying that to Viserys. Viserys, who wanted to do nothing and would do nothing. Rhaenyra, as a mother, probably knew that the threat of torture to her child would force her to confess to any crime, even an invented one, but Alicent confessed to nothing. Instead, she became hysterical because she felt like she was losing ground. If she really cared about Aemond, she wouldn't shout out her own wrongs and "sacrifice", but he was an excuse for her at the moment. It was he and Aegon who had to protect her, not her them.

[vikkirosko]

I just saw your open requests so I'm going to ask you to write (if you're not comfortable ignore the request) what you think Homicidal Liu and Jeff the Killer would be like as older brothers of a girl (about 18-19 years old), she forgave Jeff and loves both brothers very much.

🔪 Jeff the Killer x fem!Reader x Homicidal Liu platonic headcanons Sister 🧣

Jeff and Liu didn't always find common ground, but they had something in common. They've both taken care of you since you were a child. You were their little sister, and despite the fact that the difference in your age was only a few years, they both looked out for you to the best of their abilities. When Jeff became a murderer, you were the only one, as many thought, who survived, especially after Liu disappeared. However, you knew that both of your brothers were alive

You lived alone in a new house, where nothing could remind you of the tragedy that happened to your family. You tried to find out where your brothers were until one night you woke up to the feeling that people were looking at you. When you opened your eyes, you saw that someone was in your room. You were ready to panic, but whoever was in your room hurried to calm you down. It was Liu. He's changed since you last met, but it was definitely him. Your older brother, who came to make sure you were okay and he didn't expect you to wake up

Liu has become a frequent guest in your house. He came in the evenings and you talked as if nothing had changed between you. He told you the truth about what happened to him and that he killed people. Liu expected you to be scared, but you accepted him regardless. You claimed that no matter what, he was your family. However, Liu didn't know that he wasn't the only one who visited you. Jeff came to you when he was sure that no one was home but you. You forgave him a long time ago and, just like Liu, you accepted him despite the fact that he killed people. They were family to you, you loved your brothers and didn't want to lose them again

Even though you were already an adult, your brothers took care of you. Jeff made sure that no one dared to offend you. You asked me not to kill him because of you, but no one forbade Jeff to protect you, even though you didn't know about it. Liu also took care of you, though not so zealously. He helped you by making sure that you didn't forget to eat and rest, he could listen to you when you were upset and several times Liu made sure that your detractors left you alone. He didn't want to upset you, so Jeff dealt with the elimination of detractors

Someone could say that your brothers were dangerous serial killers, and they would be right, but to you they were just your older brothers. You loved them and forgave them both long ago. They were your only family and you didn't want to lose them no matter what

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

Wishing you a good time! Could you make one scenario in which Baldwin meets a very beautiful and tall woman who's from another religion (let's do any dharmic one) and is very intelligent?

♡ Once Upon A Dream - King Baldwin x Reader ♡

♡ Fluff ♡

A/N: Hello Anon! Thank you very much for this beautiful request, I hope you like it and it's what you had in mind! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

P.S. This was the final request from the last batch, this will be the last one before my exams. Be sure to send in some requests for the time-being!

TW: Leprosy

She was wonderful. A true work of art. Her eyes were like sapphires, her hair like silk. She was a dream, tall and beautiful. Their first meeting was nothing short of a fairytale. She was the daughter of an Indian Feudal lord who journeyed with her father to Jerusalem in a hope to set up a trade system with the Holy Land.

Baldwin met with them, accompanied by many royal officials, and that's when he saw her. She was so elegant and graceful in her movement. Her skin was clean, and looked soft to the touch. She was perfect. The king could not take his eyes away from her for the entire meeting.

Fortunately for him, she was feeling the same way. Although considerably shorter than herself, the young king had her captivated. The silver mask concealed his face, but his ocean blue eyes were visible and looked at her with a kindness she had never been shown by a man. 

Once the meeting concluded, Baldwin approached her father to ask if she was arranged to be married. He told him that she was not. This was because her disdain for the men he arranged for had driven them away, telling the lord that “she was not fit for marriage”.

The young king then requested that she stay in Jerusalem  for a while, to see if it was true that she was unfit to be wed to anybody. Her father agreed.

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

Over the days, the king and the lord’s daughter became well acquainted. He discovered that she was very intelligent, and that her intelligence had been suppressed for many years. Being prevented from reading the books she wanted to read, or study the things that she wanted to study. He listened for hours as she spoke about her religion, Jainism, willing to learn about as much about it as he could. 

She too had taken a great liking to the king. He cared deeply about her interests and desires. He was so sweet and kind to her, she could not resist his charm.

He was far more intelligent and compassionate than any man her father had arranged for her. They never cared about what she had to say or listened to her speak. They never complimented her the way he did. They only ever cared about her fathers wealth, never actually about her. But Baldwin did. And she cared about him just the same. His disease never put her off from being around him. She thought that he was lovely, even with his scars.

It was a month later that Baldwin sent the letter to her father, requesting his daughters hand in marriage. When he told her the news that her father had accepted the request, and that he wanted more than anything to make her his wife, she was overjoyed. Her father was just as happy that his daughter had found a husband.

The wedding was a beautiful and vibrant combination of culture. Despite this being frowned upon by many, the young king and soon to be queen believed it to be appropriate. 

The two were undoubtedly in love, and that was the way it stayed.

[harleyquilt]

JinMao hc: Jinshi has a cold and Maomao is one to treat him.

Note: This is just a short ficlet, but set somewhere in the future, where they're both comfortable enough to show some affection, but within reasonable limits lol.

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

Laying in his bed, Jinshi sniffles, an unseen pressure tightening around his head. He groans, turning his head side to side against his pillow. Through half-closed eyes, he sees Maomao grinding some herbs with a stone pestle beside him.

“Tell me, apothecary.” He sobs. “Am I dying?”

He reaches out to her and glaring, she smacks his hand away. It falls pathetically back to his side, as if she has knocked the last of his energy out of him. If anyone were to see such behaviour, she would surely be executed, and thinking this, Maomao sighs. She's at least thankful for Jinshi's tolerance towards her.

“No, sir, you are not dying.” She says, sounding rather drained herself. “Please don't say such things aloud, it'll cause needless panic.”

“But…” His words fall back into quiet whimpers.

“It is a mere cold, sir.” She explains, now stewing the leaves in hot water. “You will live yet.”

“Mere,” he scoffs. “Why do I feel so terrible then?”

Maomao's disgust melts into pity, though considering Jinshi's position, reverence would be preferable. Not that it would be possible, with how he's acting. She's seen children handle colds with greater dignity than Jinshi. She could tell him as much, but he was sure to moan even more.

“Here,” she helps him sit up and hands him his tea. He takes a sip and sighs, letting its soothing effects wash over him. Maomao then takes a damp cloth and dabs away the sweat on his brow. “You need to rest for the next few days, sir Jinshi. Rest is usually the best remedy.”

“Rest…” He grimaces, taking another sip. “The longer I rest, the more work I'll have afterwards.”

Maomao nods, truly understanding his plight. She dunks the cloth into a bowl of cooled water and rinses it, moving it to Jinshi’s neck. His skin is hot and clammy, but still remarkably smooth and soft. She pauses, her eyes drifting up to his face. Despite his exhaustion, there's still a distinct prettiness to be admired. Like a woeful painting brought to life. Jinshi looks up to Maomao, silently questioning her. Swallowing, she quickly looks away and frowns. It's perplexing how someone, even while sick and bedbound, can retain such beauty.

“Maomao,” he reaches up, a hand over hers. She stiffens, but chooses not to move away. “I really appreciate this. I feel well taken care of, because of you.”

She keeps her eyes on the bedside table, her hands cold from the water, but her face growing warm. “I still think a court physician would have been more appropriate.” She mutters.

Jinshi smiles, lifting his hand up to brush aside her hair. Reaching her limit, she steps back, turning her head away. Jinshi tuts.

“You don't do well with compliments, do you?” He remarks, leaning back into his pillows.

Maomao glares back at him, suddenly offended. “The same could be said for you,” she lifts her chin. “Sir.”

“What does that mean?” Jinshi raises a brow.

Maomao flinches before collecting herself, returning to his side. She silently reminds herself of her position. “Nothing at all–”

“No,” Jinshi places his cup aside, his cold no bother to him now. “I want you to clarify.” Maomao hesitates, testing his patience. “That's an order.”

Flinching again, Maomao takes a deep breath, gathering the willpower needed to make her next move. If Jinshi is to challenge her, then Maomao simply has no choice but to bite back.

“Then, sir Jinshi,” she leans forward, her eyes meeting his. “Despite your shortcomings, I find you to be a rather remarkable specimen.” She reaches up, pauses, and brushes aside his fringe. “I admit, I enjoy the time we spend together. I like studying you.”

She could go on, but she can see that it will not be necessary.

The damage is almost immediate. His face turns beet red, his lips quivering as he fails to string together a coherent sentence, and before he's given the chance to, Maomao smiles smugly and quickly retreats from his room. He reaches out, intending to call her, but his words are pushed down from the immense embarrassment he suddenly feels. He falls back onto his pillows, dazed. Hiding his face with his hands, he wonders if Maomao truly meant the words she told him, or if she was merely trying to win against this game between them. Either way, Jinshi has been utterly, completely, and ruthlessly defeated.

[softquietsteadylove]

got the idea of sprite and kingo sneaking into gils room at night because of a recipe or something and they don't know thena is sleeping there too watching them and in the end thena scares the shit out of them

"Shut up!"

"I wasn't saying anything!" Kingo whispered back to his very cranky sister as they continued down the hall.

"You're doing this," she hissed at him, waving her arms around. "Cut it out."

"Hey, I'm just being ready for a fight," he argued in his own defense. "You never know who might be wandering around."

"Relax dude," Sprite rolled her eyes, although she wasn't moving much faster than Kingo at this point. "Ikaris is on watch, and I haven't seen Thena since dinner."

"Right," Kingo sighed, shuffling along with their grey robes swaying gently around them. "It was probably a long day for her. With any luck she'll actually be asleep."

Sprite grinned, "and Gil made her favourite. You know how his food knocks her right out."

It was true, dinner had been hearty and filling, even Thena having more than one serving. Although maybe that had more to do with Gil eagerly refilling her bowl before she could even ask.

Kingo exhaled as they finally arrived at the door they were after. It was identical to all the others, but this one surely had the recipe they were after. "Ready?"

Sprite merely rolled her eyes at him, engaging the door and holding her breath as it slid open silently. They walked through and she idly left an illusion of it in the empty doorway (just in case they needed a quick escape).

"Hm," Kingo noted gently as they walked into Gil's room. It was identical to all their personal quarters: small and underwhelming. He turned to Sprite, "if there were less of us do you think we'd get bigger rooms?"

"No, there'd just be more room for ship stuff," she whispered back as they took in the books Gil had accumulated. They mostly seemed to be journals, probably about food--maybe some booze recipes.

Everyone had their own personal affects, even as eternal beings who had no need for physical keepsakes of life. Sersi was actually the most notorious for it, with her little human trinkets. Druig had the occasional thing that Makkari would give him from her own covetous stash of stolen goods.

Kingo and Sprite jumped slightly as Gil grunted and adjusted in the bed. They both looked, checking to see if he was still asleep, and froze.

Thena was sleeping with him, her forehead pressed to his chest, her arms pinned close. One of her hands was slipping into the collar of his robes to touch the side of his neck!

Kingo eyed Sprite, lowering his voice to an even quieter whisper, "what do we do?"

Sprite pressed her finger to her lips with a glare.

Kingo made a face. What do we do?!

I don't know! Sprite signed back, also frozen on the spot in the face of the great predator. If they woke her, it would be trouble enough, and that was outside of what she would do if she knew they were trying to pilfer something from poor Gil.

Kingo pointed to the book in Sprite's hand, leave it. Time to bail.

Sprite shook her head, beginning the process of tiptoeing out of the room. They had gotten what they came for, there was no abandoning it now.

Kingo followed suit, never taking his eyes off the bed with the Strongest and Warrior Eternal in it. It was kind of gross, but also kind of cute, seeing them all cuddled up. They got pretty small beds for their quarters, so it made sense that they were practically on top of one another.

Sprite turned within the threshold of her illusion and waved her hand for him to hurry up.

"Leave it."

Both Eternals flinched. Kingo straightened, hiding his hands behind his back.

"Save it," Thena murmured from the cocoon of Gilgamesh's arms. There were no signs that she was awake other than her clear and sharp speech. "I was awake as soon as the door opened."

They should have known. Sprite and Kingo traded a defeated look between them. Their mission was always doomed. "We didn't-"

"Out."

"Right, right," Kingo sighed, tiptoeing a little more quickly the rest of the way out. "Sorry, T."

"Put the recipe back."

Sprite rolled her eyes at her bossy sister but slumped back into the room to do just that. "Snitch."

"If you so desire it, ask him," Thena argued, still frighteningly still whether asleep or awake. She added, "nicely."

Sprite flipped her middle finger at Thena, but her eyes were still closed. If anything, Gil tightened his arms around her, pulling the blonde closer and nestling his head in a better position against hers. Sprite made a silent face of gagging.

Kingo rolled his eyes, "come on, Sprite. We've been caught fair and square."

Sprite huffed but joined him in the hall again. Of course he would take Thena's side. And she did have to admit, she had never seen Thena actually...relaxed, like this. Sprite dispelled her illusion, preparing to close the door again.

"Who was that?"

"No one," Thena whispered back to Gil, whose voice was bleary and faint. She paused, and the distinct sound of lips on lips was heard, "go back to sleep."

Sprite's eyes went wide. She made half a step to go back inside and see for herself what was happening, but Kingo caught the neck of her robes and dragged her away kicking and whispering. "Dude! That's-"

"Really going to get us killed?--I agree," he hissed at her, dragging her off and away from their sister and her lover.

[malinaa]

if i think about the hunger games in peeta's perspective i WILL start sobbing

[snzluv3r]

No hate to your girlfriend, but does she actually take care of you? You always post that you’re sick and they don’t do anything? Seems kinda shitty

this is insanely presumptuous and weird and just because you slap ‘no hate’ in front of it doesn’t make it any less rude…

i don’t post about everything (or even CLOSE to it) so i don’t know how you would even KNOW if she’s taking care of me or not, but i’ve absolutely posted on here about her taking care of me when i’m sick multiple times already so i don’t know how you could’ve possibly missed that if you’re as concerned with our relationship as this message makes it seem.

she quite literally bought my dinner tonight and is the only reason i have tissues right now because she knows me So well and is so good at taking care of me. she sits on the phone with me every single night for hours and helps me sleep when i don’t feel well and keep waking up so fuck you. i know this was to bait me but i don’t want anyone to think you can get away with sending me nasty shit like this about someone i love

[im-constantly-fangirling]

Joel Miller Snippet

A/N: Hey! I'm starting to dabble in some tlou fics but it's gonna be a long one! I've got a snippet of it below the cut, feel free to send your opinions my way :) It's kind of an au but like not really, idk how to describe it. Like there's no outbreak but Joel still finds his way to Jackson with Ellie.

au!Joel Miller x afab!reader

Warnings: none in the snippet

Summary: As a bartender, you know every single face in Jackson. When a grumpy but kind-at-heart traveler makes his way into the diner you work at, you can't help but be curious.

Working at the diner in Jackson was no easy job.

It seemed that people had a borderline excessive appetite for alcohol- and they relied on you to fulfill it. You didn’t mind the work, as it numbed you the way a bottle could, but you supposed you could do without the yelling, obscene comments, and the general carelessness of the people who couldn’t really hold their liquor.

The one benefit you found with being a bartender was information. Every small town had its fair share of gossip, and Jackson definitely delivered. Travelers came and went, and those who stayed would alter the social routine of Jackson just a little bit. You were a town full of shattered pieces of what were once whole people, but those pieces of glass joined to make a stunning mosaic- no matter how jagged and uneven it was.

It was just another ordinary day when the door to the bar opened, revealing an unfamiliar face. A swift silence wafted through the bar before the man walked in and Tommy followed behind. A sigh of relief seemed to go through every one. The bar resumed its normal revelry.

You were cleaning a glass with a rag when Tommy and the man walked up to the bar. “Y/n, I’d like you to meet my brother, Joel.”

You smiled at him, putting the glass down and flipping the rag over your shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Joel,” you greeted him. He didn't respond with more than a grunt and a nod, but you didn’t mind. He had dirt smudged over his face, his flannel shirt, his forearms. Scars adorned any amount of skin that showed. And those eyes…

Holding his gaze, you almost saw the emptiness behind them. As if he had nothing left in him. This was a man who had seen hell.

If Tommy noticed his brother’s grumpiness, he certainly didn’t care to comment on it. “Y/n’s the best bartender in town. If you treat her real nice, she might slip you a free drink or two,” he said, whispering the last part conspiratorily.

You chuckled, lightly smacking Tommy on the shoulder. “Don’t go around telling everyone, now,” you teased. “But since you’re Tommy’s brother, I’ll get you your first drink on the house. Any friend of Tommy’s is a friend of mine.”

Joel nodded gratefully- or you understood it to be gratefully- before clearing his throat. “I’ll just take the strongest whiskey you’ve got.” Even his voice was rough. You wondered if there was a single part of him that the world hadn’t taken away from him. “But don’t go making a habit out of giving me a free drink. I’d be more than happy to pay,” he declared while taking a seat. The soft southern lilt of his voice made you smile. It had been a while since you heard that accent.

Tommy sat on the bar stool and leaned his head in his hand. “And I’ll take some gin, please.”

You turned around, letting the brothers get reacquainted while you served them their drinks. Their voices got drowned out by the laughter in the bar- but every now and then, when business was slow, you’d quietly make your way over to their side of the bar. 

“-she’s everything to me, Tommy. I’ll take some of her shifts. After everything she’s gone through, she deserves to just relax,” you heard Joel say.

Huh, you wondered. Didn’t peg him for the married type. You couldn’t deny your disappointment, but you couldn’t stop smiling lightly. The grumpy man had a soft spot. It was odd but endearing to watch his eyebrows round out at the edges.

Tommy lightly hummed. “As long as the patrols get done, I don’t think that’ll be an issue.” He paused. “Just…be careful, Joel. People around here are really close knit. You don’t want to go around pissing people off by being all-”

“Pissy?” Joel finished, taking a sip of his whiskey. “Look, I don’t plan on staying long, anyway. I’ll get out of your hair-”

“Ma’am, can I get another?” you heard a man’s voice call out. He was almost slumped against the bar, his hand held up limply in the air. 

You wiped the back of your hand against your forehead. “Bill, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” you trailed off.

Bill didn’t seem to like that answer, and you felt your heart start speeding up. “Just give me one more! I wasn’t fucking asking,” his voice slurred, echoing throughout the bar. It was as if he sucked the life right out of the building. No one moved.

You stared at Bill, your eyes hardening. “This happens every week, Bill. Aren’t you sick of this little tradition we have going on? Cause I am.” You put your hands together into a fist and leaned against the bar, letting your face get close to Bill’s. “You reek of piss and you’re acting like a lazy bum. How about you go back home and sleep the alcohol off before you get dragged out?”

Bill’s sweaty hands grab your arm. “What the fuck did you say?”

You felt your palms start sweating. “Bill,” you said calmly. “Get a hold of yourself, okay? You don’t gotta be like this.”

Bill growled loudly at you, spit flying from his mouth, making your face scrunch up with disgust. At the sound of his growl, several other townspeople stood up from their chairs, getting ready to intervene if needed. You saw them all slightly leaning forward, as if they’d run for Bill the second he stepped out of line.

One of Bill’s hands let go of your arm in favor of roughly grabbing your chin. You closed your eyes and tried turning away from his grip, but his alcohol-ridden mind had no semblance of propriety, and he held your chin and cheeks in a vice-like grip. “Listen here, you insolent-”

“Hey!” another voice boomed. It was rough, like the feeling of the tough boar bristles on your hair comb. Joel. “Don’t touch her!”

...

Lmk what you guys think! Hopefully I can put it out soon <3

[yardsards]

a tactic of abusive parents that i don't see brought up very often: convincing their victims that child protective services are evil and that foster parents would certainly be even more abusive than their current circumstances