#now they shall drawer harder

[transflame]

Drawers

[l3viat8an]

Just a little food for thought

Sucking Diavolo off in his office and Lucifer or Barbatos walks in

Nsfw!

*dusts off ask* Sooo- I had a lil fun with this 🤭

A soft knock on Diavolo’s office door makes your whole body stiffen underneath the large oak desk, “Come in.” Diavolo says, voice calm as ever as he looks up from the paperwork he’d been going through.

Barbatos walks in and bows slightly, “I’m sorry, to intrude my lord.”

“Is it important?” Diavolo groans and thinking he might need to stand up, or even leave you slowly started to pull your head away from his cock, careful not to move to fast or let Barbatos hear you and what you were doing-

But without taking his eyes off of Barbatos, one of Diavolo’s hands gently pushes on the back of your head and keeps your mouth around him, guiding your head and setting a slow rhythm to signal you to keep going.

You do so, hesitating a bit, but still following the slow pace he set for you and he silently praised you by running his fingers through your hair and patting your head.

“Lucifer, is here for a nightcap.” Barbatos says and you freeze for a second, before sucking harder and grazing your teeth over his length as you pull back, repeating the motion as quickly as you can.

Diavolo clears his throat to hide a rather sudden moan and asks, “Is it already that late?” looking at the clock on the wall. It was later then he realized and he had asked Lucifer to stop by before heading home himself. Completely, coincidental ofc!!

“Yes, shall I still send him in?” “Of course.”

with that Barbatos nods, and quietly leaves the room. Diavolo let out a low groan as he slumps back into his chair, his eyes moving to take in your flushed face.

You glare up at him, speeding up your pace and moaning freely around Diavolo’s cock, half hoping he’ll finish and let you up….the added reward of Diavolo’s own soft moans falling from his lips as he watched his cock disappear in your mouth, then reappear covered in your drool and his pre-cum.

His whole face softened as he gave you a sweet smile, scratching your scalp once more as praise. He’s so lucky to have you, especially when you were so kindly helping him relieve his stress like this.

Really all his stress melted away when his eyes were fixed on you, always so eager to please him~

“I forgot, I asked Lucifer to come over this evening…..before I invited you to join me,” he slowly ran his fingers through your hair as he admits his ‘mistake’.

“You’re doing so well, my love.” he adds, wiping a stray tear from your red cheek before pulling his hand away and letting you readjust your body to get more comfortable while you can.

When he heard footsteps just outside his office, Diavolo sits up straight again. His free hand reached down to one of the drawers of his desk and pulls out a bottle of demonus and two glasses.

As he poured the drinks, he let out a sigh, “We’re going to be here for a while I’ll try to keep it short. Be a good little pet and keep me warm.”

It’s a order, not a question and you let out a groan of your own, then you hear Diavolo chuckle, “I’ll reward you later.” one last, quick, pat to your head and you can hear the office door opening again…

Now you really are stuck-

[mikkomacko]

need a sequel to the NYE nico fic ! like maybe she tells him she’s pregnant on valentines day

Well this definitely got away from me but ask and you shall receive!

Nico Hischier x reader

Warnings: smut, daddy kink, breeding kink

Part two of this Next part

You can hear him pacing through the door. Maybe it would have been better to just let him wait in the bathroom but you couldn’t risk ruining your surprise. Even if it meant you had to drive Nico insane for a couple days.

Besides, he seems to play better hockey when he’s frustrated anyway, something you’ve always admired. Nico doesn’t shut down and run in the face of adversity, he pushes harder and harder, grows even more stubborn than he already is.

Which is how you ended up with a daily sex schedule on a shared doc after Nico discovered that his drunken New Years Eve romp wasn’t as successful as he thought it’d be. He was determined, and you weren’t complaining. You’d take any chance to have set pillow princess time with Captain Nico.

“Please tell me it’s been 10 minutes?” He whines through the door, and you bite back a giggle at his tone. The pregnancy test you’d just taken rests on the counter in front of you, a bright and clear positive sign on it.

Butterflies swarm in your chest, your suspicions true after the past couple days of tender breasts and raging hormones. You have to swallow a couple times to clear away any happy tears, quietly stuffing the positive test in your old box of tampons.

“Like two more minutes, Nico hold on.” You call back, deciding to hide the test in your bathroom junk drawer instead. Nico has taken up the habit of checking your tampons and pads to see if you started your period lately and the last thing you need is him ruining his present.

After tucking it away, you fish out the negative one from awhile back that you saved just for this. Steeling yourself, you force the smile on your lips into a frown.

“Nico,” you say softly, your voice cracking because you do feel bad lying to him and you feel like crying over anything and everything right now.

“Yeah?” He calls back through the door and you can practically see him pressed into it on the other side. “Come out please? I need to see you.”

You flick the lock and open the door, clutching the negative test in your fist. Nico is crowded in the door way, big brown eyes already looking at you with an unusual droopiness. He doesn’t even look for the test in your hand, just takes in the tears in your eyes and the way you’re biting your lip nervously.

“Aw baby,” he mumbles, opening his arms for you. You step into his embrace, resting your cheek against his chest and wrapping your arms around him. He squeezes you tightly, large biceps caging your body to his and his fingers tangle in your hair. He nuzzles into the top of your head, and you feel his chest rise with deep breaths as he pulls himself together.

“I’m sorry Nico,” you say, sincerely knowing he’ll think you’re apologizing for not being pregnant. But you’re more apologizing for lying to him, for disappointing him one last time.

“No,” he says firmly, and you let him wordlessly walk you towards the bed. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. We’ll get it, I know we will.”

And there’s that determination. You lighten up a bit at that, realizing that maybe this didn’t hurt him as much as you thought it would. Pulling back from his embrace, you look up at him to find a wetness in his eyes that wasn’t there before and your heart falls to your stomach. Instinctively, you press your palm into your belly, wincing at the way your gut twists with guilt.

Frowning, Nico takes your wrist and pulls your hand back, placing it over his heart instead. His heart thuds against the pads of your fingers, strong and steady like him.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” you whisper, looking down at your hand. He’s in the same black shirt he wore that night at the bar. You almost smile, thinking about how sweet and excited he was about starting a family.

“Not crying,” he insists “just a little water.”

You laugh gently, meeting his gaze again to find him smiling. “That is crying, for you.” You argue and he scoffs, shaking his head.

“No, you’ll see real bawling like a baby tears from me when we get our baby.” He promises. “And I don’t want hear sorry then either.”

You simply nod, heart warming at his words. Nico’s always so positive, so ready to take on anything with you. Prepared, he’s always a step ahead. You hope that this time you’ll finally catch him lagging. He’s a hard man to surprise.

“Give me a kiss and let me take you bed.” He requests, tapping the top of your head like you’re one of his teammates that’s just scored a goal. Giggling, you stretch up to seal your lips with his, sinking into the haze that is Nico in love. You don’t even pay attention to him slipping the negative test from your hand until he’s pulling back from the kiss and hiding it behind his back.

“Fresh start,” he says, stepping around you to take it to the bathroom. He tosses it in the trash, flicking off the light before joining you at the bottom of the bed.

“Thank you,” you murmur, kissing his chin before taking him by the hand to his side of the bed. Instead of climbing over to yours, you peel back the blankets and lay against his pillow. Taking a moment to fluff everything how you like, you open your legs for him and pat your thighs.

His eyes crinkle with his laugh, cheeks turning pink and you giggle when he knees way on top of you. You give him a sec to settle in, laying on his tummy between your thighs with his elbows on either side of your head.

“Night my love.” He whispers, resting his nose against yours and pecking at the corner of your mouth. You pull the blankets up over him, letting him reach over to flick off the lamp before he slides further down your body in the darkness.

Nico rests his head on your chest, one hand holding your thigh and the other sliding under the small of your back. He can’t stay like that all night but for now he’ll try.

“Night neeks,” you mumble into the top of his head, closing your eyes and stroking your fingers up and down his broad back. He adjusts his head, a curious noise coming from his mouth.

After a moment, his voice breaks the stillness.

“I thought you were pregnant,” he whispers, and you hum to let him know you’re listening. “Your boobs are bigger,” he continues and you blink your eyes open to stare at the ceiling.

Of course he’d fucking notice that.

“And you cum really fast now,” he adds as an afterthought. “Like really fast, always so wet too. I don’t even have to try anymore.”

Of course he’d notice that too. And it’d be hot, the cockiness of his words if they didn’t drip with disappointed confusion.

“Oh,” you mumble, unsure of what to say.

“Maybe we should see someone?” He prods, and his fingers nervously stroke over your thigh. You realize he’s feeling insecure about this, about not being able to get to you pregnant. He feels at fault, like he needs help somehow. Your heart almost breaks at the thought and you so badly want to tell him the truth.

When you don’t respond he continues, “I just, not that I think anything is wrong with us but I…”

You bury your other hand in his hair, scratching his scalp to soothe him.

“I want this so badly,” he confesses. “And I want it now.”

Guilty and unsure of what to do, you hold him tighter. “I know Nico. But it hasn’t been that long and maybe we just need to try more?”

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly “yeah but I think I’m still gonna do research, ok?”

You smile in the darkness. Always ready to go, to do more. You’d expect nothing less of him.

“Ok baby,” you agree “now get some rest for tomorrow. That schedule of yours has us down for like 3 times.”

He giggles boyishly and you swoon like a school girl. “Not that you need it since I’m apparently easy now.”

Nico snuggles further into your chest. “Nah think I’ve just spoiled you with good dick too often now.”

You can’t deny his words so you just kiss his forehead, shushing him to sleep. Hopefully you can keep up this act for the next couple days.

~

Nico came home to a romantic dinner on Valentine’s Day. This year it was your turn to plan, so you’d made his favorite pasta dish and set the table up all nice and pretty with pink and red confetti and candles and heart balloons.

Dressed up in his favorite little red silk dress you owned, you two talked and laughed over dinner, him sipping his beer and you water as you simply caught up on everything. You’re lucky to have Nico as both your lover and best friend, it makes conversation easy and fun, and kept it away from the topic of a baby. You figured a break from it would be refreshing, especially after that damn schedule of his had almost half the day blocked away for sex.

“Extra on the day of love,” he’d explained with an innocent smile and you let him be.

You needed him happy and distracted until dessert. And he was, so happy he didn’t even notice your lack of alcohol or the way your hormones had your eyes on his lips and half unbuttoned dress shirt all night.

Finally, at dessert you sealed the deal. Perched up on the kitchen counter with your legs swinging, you dipped a mini marshmallow into the chocolate fondue he made. Popping it into your mouth, you admired him as he poured two glasses of sparkling cider, in a bottle you made look like champagne.

Nico handed you your glass, parting his lips for a bite of chocolate covered strawberry that you fed him. You caught his lips right after, enjoying the sweet taste of dessert on his tongue.

“You know,” he murmured “I think we’ve still got an hour on the calendar.”

You laughed, peeling back from him to take a drink from your glass. Nico watched you with big moony eyes, dimples in his cheeks and his free hand wandered to your hip to hold you. Catching the way his eyes fell to your cleavage, you kicked at his thigh to keep him from staring too long. The last thing you need is him noticing that your boobs have grown even bigger in the last two days.

“Drink your champagne and then maybe,” you instruct and he huffs, rolling his eyes before bringing the glass to his lips. You watch him take a drink, notice the way his eyebrows furrow and he quietly smacks his lips afterwards.

Looking at you curiously, he frowns. “Baby this isn’t alcoholic?” He takes another drink before you can answer, still smacking his lips before setting the glass down.

“What?” You play along, slinking down from the counter and moving to the other side of the island. Nico pays you no mind, grabbing the bottle off the counter and lifting it to read the back of the label.

“What kind even is this?” He mutters, ever the Swiss wine critic and you smile as you dig out the positive test from where you hid it in the kitchen drawer.

Bouncing on your toes, you return to his side just as he turns the bottle to the front. It takes him a moment to fully read it. The custom label you made that in fancy lettering reads

Baby on the way!

Congrats daddy!

2024

“What?” He mutters confused, but you can feel the excitement bubbling in his chest as the words start to click.

“This might help,” you offer, placing the test on the counter in front of him. You attach yourself to his back, arms around his waist as you bite back a smile. Nico immediately picks it up, and you feel his whole body tense.

“No fucking way,” he mumbles, bottle and test clattering to the countertop. Nico shakes your hold off, spinning around to you. “Baby w-what? Are you-what?”

He grabs your face between his palms, eyes already filled with happy tears as they bore into your own watery ones.

“We’re pregnant Nico.” You confirm, laughing wetly. It’s as if he’s unsure of what to even do with himself, going between clutching your smiling face and raking his fingers through your hair. Finally he settles for wrapping you up in his arms, spinning you around the kitchen and hopping around like a giddy child.

You paw at his neck and shoulders, needing something to hold onto because he feels like he’s going to float up to the ceiling with you in his arms.

“We’re having a baby!” He cheers through a laugh “A baby! My baby!”

By the time he’s placed you back on the ground you’re breathless and dizzy from laughing. You cling to him, happy tears rolling down your cheeks and you’re so glad you decided on no makeup tonight.

Tear tracks stain his cheeks, his smile so big you think it might fall off his face and his neck has gotten all red and splotchy from excitement. You coo at him, tracing your fingers over it as if trying to soothe him.

“How long? I mean just the other day-“

“I lied,” you admit, frowning guiltily. “The test I showed you was old but I wanted to surprise you. I know you wanted this as a birthday gift so I figured I’d just make it a Valentine’s Day gift. I’m so sorry-“

His lips cut you off, sweet and passionate as he teasingly traces his tongue over your bottom lip. Nico backs you up into the countertop, moaning softly when your chest presses into his.

“No apologies,” he insists when he pulls back, still smiling. “This is the best gift.” He kisses you again, softer and shorter this time.

“Do you know how long?”

You play with the top button of his shirt. “I haven’t gone to like a doctor or anything. I only realized it last week and I took that test two nights ago but I think I’m a little over a month.”

A shit eating grin overtakes his face. “News Year Eve I knew it!” He exclaims, kissing at your cheeks and you laugh. “Or maybe my birthday. God we were so good on my birthday.”

“We’re always good,” you argue, pressing your front into him. You can feel the bulge of his cock in his jeans against your lower stomach but you don’t comment on it, waiting for him to do so.

“Yeah,” he agrees thoughtfully, eyes raking over your face. You bat your eyes at him, smiling shyly until he chuckles.

“I’m hard,” he admits as if you didn’t know. You hum your agreement, slowly working the other buttons of his shirt undone.

“Let’s go take care of it,” you murmur into his ear, breathy when you add a sly “daddy” to the end. Nico’s knees shake, a painful groan escaping his red lips and he’s scooping you up and hurrying to the bedroom.

You whine, pointing toward the couch and kicking your feet in protest. “It was so much closer,” you complain and he grunts in disgust.

“Not fucking my pregnant girl on the couch on Valentine’s Day,” he argues, tossing you gently into the pillows. “M’gonna take good care of ya.”

Shamelessly, you watch him unbutton the rest of his shirt and strip it from his body, squeezing your thighs together as he moves onto his jeans. He drops them and his boxers in one go, eager as he crowds over you on the bed, cock red and dripping as he goes.

You almost moan at the sight of him, hungry and desperate for him despite how often he’s been between your thighs lately. Nico notices, simpering as he works your dress up your thighs and torso, revealing the white panties you wore underneath with a simple red heart on the front. You’d forgone a bra early today, knowing it would just be uncomfortable and awkward and Nico mumbles his appreciation when he gets the dress up around your neck.

His lips find the swell of your left breast, kissing gently at the swollen flesh as he blindly works your clothing over your head.

“My pretty girl,” he says more to himself than you, moving to the other breast as you toss the dress to the floor. “God I knew something was different.”

You laugh, tangling his hair in your fingers and drawing his mouth up to yours. He kisses you sloppily, hands moving to your underwear. Nico doesn’t even tease you before he’s pushing them down and you help wiggle out of them impatiently.

Your cunt throbs, wet and raw and desperate to feel him again and again. You whimper into his lips, slinging a leg around his waist to draw him closer.

“Need you now, Nico please.” You beg as his mouth moves to your neck. His hand blindly reaches down to fist himself, and he obediently obliges your begging by burying his cock in you, one swift motion.

You gasp for a breath as your toes tingle, pleasure swirling in your belly and Nico moans in your ear, voice husky and broken. He’s just as desperate as you.

“So fucking wet, Jesus,” he mutters in astonishment, lifting himself to watch you writhe beneath him. “All needy and horny for the cock that put a baby in you? Always ready for me weren’t you? Should fill you up, put another one in you right now huh?”

You slur some sort of agreement, as least something intelligible enough for Nico. His dirty mouth continues, working you tighter and tighter as he steadily ruts into you.

“Did I take care of you sweetheart?” He asks lowly, mouth hot against your ear. “Before? When I didn’t know?”

Your jumbled, sex fogged brain clicks for just a moment. He’s not just talking dirty, not trying to get you to cum. He genuinely wants to know if he fucked you good enough all those times before. When he didn’t know you were dripping into the mattress because your pregnancy brain was all hot and bothered over him 24/7. Because he was so focused on just putting a baby in you that he didn’t pay attention to the fact he already had.

“Yes!” You gasp, digging your fingers into his shoulders. You meet his gaze, eyes glossy and wild with love. “So good Nico, every time. Felt like you knew.”

His hips slow, rocking into you softy. “Yeah?”

You nod, frantically, the slow drag of his cock against your sensitive walls driving you mad. “Didn’t even notice,” you admit to him, earnestly “but you got so soft, so strong and instinctive like…”

Like a parent, you realize. He always fucked you like he was trying to thank you for giving him something so precious while also taking care of you.

“Like I wanted to make you feel so fucking good without hurting our baby.” He fills in, because he’s realized it too. His mind may have been in the dark before, but his body wasn’t.

“Can I cum?” You ask pathetically, fighting to keep your eyes from rolling to the back of your head. Nico coos at you, sympathetic and gentle when he slots his mouth to yours for a quick nip at your lips.

“Always, can always cum for me baby.” He promises, pressing his chest down low to yours. His knees dig into the mattress, steeling himself as he draws his cock out to the tip and then fucks into you with earnest.

You cry out, the head of him nudging into you so perfectly you could melt. Nico kisses you as best he can around your blubbering noises of pleasure, the flames of your orgasm licking at your core.

Nico’s fingers find your clit, the pads of them rubbing tight circles in time with his thrusts. White bursts behind close eyes, your toes curling and ears roaring as you reach your high.

“Ooh,” Nico breathes into the side of your face “yes sweetheart, come on my cock. So good, you’re so good to me.”

The rest of his needy mumbles are lost to you, your mind occupied with the wave of pleasure that sweeps over you, pulsing with each pass of Nico’s fingers and each thrust of his hips.

Foggy and hazy you hear him whimper, find enough of yourself to kiss him slowly as his cock twitches and throbs, filling you with his cum. His lips are languid and hot against yours, broken breaths and moans falling from them as you both come down.

Finally he settles into your neck, taking one last deep breath before he’s holding you tight to his body and rolling to his back. You go with him easily, falling into his chest like a rag doll and curling up. Unsure if it’s him enjoying the moment or habit by now, you sit comfortably on his softening cock with no protest, exhaustion pulling at your bones already.

“All I want to do lately is jump your bones or sleep,” you mumble to him, yawning afterwards. His chest rumbles with laughter, hands running up and down your spine in some unknown pattern.

“I can live with that,” he says, “like fucking you so good you get all sleepy afterwards. Snuggle into me so nicely.”

You smile, eyes falling shut as you curl your arms around him. The room falls silent save for the sound of you two still catching you breaths, and the rise and fall of his chest is lulling you to sleep when he speaks up.

“Thank you,” he whispers “for giving me a baby.”

You can hear the emotion in his voice, how it sticks in his throat and weighs down his words. If you look at him you don’t imagine he’d be crying, but pretty damn close you think.

“Don’t thank me until the baby is here,” you reply, and than just because you can feel him starting to slip from between your thighs you add. “Besides, this is the work of you and the pretty cock of yours.”

Nico jolts as if you’d just pinched him, hips pressing up into you and his cock twitches with interest. You giggle, amused at his predictability as he whimpers.

“You’re gonna have fun with this aren’t you?” He asks but he doesn’t sound too upset.

Tired and content, you nod. This is going to be a fucking blast.

[make-it-kinky-make-it-fun]

You get home on a friday afternoon, after your college classes are done for the week. Your parents are away for the weekend at some work thing you don't care about, so you're completely alone.

You lay down on your bed as you lazily scroll on your phone, too distracted to hear the front door opening and footsteps climbing the stairs.

Suddenly, that creepy older guy from your class is standing right in front of you, and the moment you notice him he jumps on top of you, easily overpowering you.

He binds your wrists together and on the bedframe, then he rips your shirt off, leaving you bare chested.

He proceeds to take off your pants and tie your legs on opposing bed posts, making you unable to close them.

He then gags you with a ring gag he found on your bedside table drawer. You try to kick and scream but he just chuckles as he slowly caresses and gropes your whole body, pinching you nipples hard.

He does this for a long time, simply feeling you up as you start to cry softly.

He then starts playing with your exposed cunt, touches light as feathers, and you sob harder as you feel your own wetness pooling. You're not enjoying this, not at all, but you can't control your body and the man let's out a cruel laughter.

He plays with your clit relentlessly, you feel your body betraying you as you jerk your hips forward in search for more freaction, which only makes him laugh harder and you cry harder.

It goes on for hours, him just touching you like this as if your clit and slit were the funnest toys around. Your mind is completely fuzzy at this point, and you can just react at his incessant touches.

He has his dick out by now, but he's just using the tip to continue to molest you, never even trying to enter you.

He then mounts on you, and you think he'll finally fuck you and maybe this will be over soon. But no, he instead takes the gag off of you and sticks his tongue inside your mouth as his dick rubs on your cunt. You’re becoming breathless and desperate, which makes him laugh again as he shoves his tongue deeper inside your mouth and pinches your nipples.

After a long while like this, he finally stops and you manage to slur out:

"Why don't you get it over with and fuck me already?"

He chuckles and forcible kisses you again, making you almost choke on his tongue.

"Oh, baby, your parents won't be back until monday, we got plenty of time."

Your face scrunches up and you start crying again while he smirks and goes back to gently stroking your cunt.

You don't know how many more hours go by, the gag back in its rightful place in your mouth. You barely feel his touches anymore, with the amount of wetness surrounding your holes.

He takes this as his cue to grab one of your toys, a small vibrator. The moment it touches you, your back arches and you let an obscene moan escape your throat, and you try to hide your face from the embarrassment, but he won't let you.

"I won't stop until you beg me to make you cum, by the way. And if you haven’t done it by the end of the weekend, I assure you you'll regret it."

So this is how you end up being teased and edged for 34 hours straight. You lost count of how many times you passed out, and your mind is so fuzzy you almost forget where and who you are.

The man has used almost your entire collection of toys by now, and not once did he lose his focus and fucked you. Well, not your cunt anyway, because your face became his fleshlight, as you were unable to close your jaw and every time you tried to use your tongue to push him out he'd just groan "yes, baby, that’s so good, keep making out with my dick"

When you finally broke with a pathetic whimper of "please... please make me cum" he didn't turn feral or agressive like you imagined. No, he slowly entered you and it took him another hour and a half to actually get you off, tears running down your face again.

Then, he shoved his tongue down your throat for the twentieth time before grinning like a wolf.

"Well, we still have well over 12 hours to go. Shall we see how many times I can force you to cum?"

At this, you began sobbing again, and his mocking chuckles filled the room.

"I guess we better ger started if we wanna break my record, right?"

You'll forever wonder if you should've held on for longer, but that's no longer a choice as he rams his dick inside you over and over, a magic wand firmly pressed against your clit as you cum over and over, drifting in and out of consciousness.

[emisprocrastinatingbywriting]

Alone and Forsaken

Chapter 13 Summary:

The road to Jackson was going to be hard, you knew and Joel knew it, but will the two of you make it harder on yourselves? After car troubles leads to a run in with some raiders, your promise to live for one another is tested yet again. With infected stumbling around the streets and the only viable escape plan incredibly dangerous, can you trust each other enough to give up control? Can you form a real partnership, despite the impossible circumstance you find yourselves in?

Warnings: Angst, Fears About Losing Each Other, Local Man Learns How to Communicate His Feelings, Fluff, Canon-Typical Violence with Raiders and Infected, Smut, Oral m&f receiving, Anal Play, Joel Def Has a Itty Bitty Breeding Kink, Minors DNI.

A/N:

Hello my lovelies, hopefully you are all doing well :) I'm back across the pond now so you shall be seeing me more regularly again!

This chapter is going to be a two parter. The second part is already in the works, I just need to put some finishing touches on it. Major angst in store for this chapter. Along with that, some canon-typical violence as reader and Joel go up against infected and raiders. But don't you worry, I sprinkled some smut in for you ;) The journey to Jackson will continue in the next chapter, where reader and Joel will encounter a different sort of threat. Stay tuned to find out what happens!

Chapter 13/20

Chapter 13: The Road to Jackson Pt. 1

The first day that Joel had ushered you from your childhood home, gruffly explaining that Jackson was the only option left for the two of you in this particular circumstance, he had tried to market it as the easiest option. The little enthusiasm he showcased was forced, you could tell by the way the hopeful remarks didn’t reach the gloom in his eyes, but you played along for his sake. It broke your heart to see him so morose at the thought of returning to Jackson, to what remaining family he had, but you understood how he felt. 

Although you were excited at the prospect of Jake hopefully being there with his family, the possibility of your mother simply existing in a space near you made your stomach twist. There was no part of you that hated her, but that didn’t mean that you missed her presence in your life. Perhaps, for entirely different reasons, Joel felt the same about his own blood. It made you think of the childhood picture you had found weeks ago in Joel’s drawer, the one with him and his brother dressed up in halloween costumes as little boys. That was when you decided to liven up the journey a bit. 

Before leaving, you made sure to grab the old pop CD filled with the hits of 2002 that you had wedged beneath your floor boards to keep Josiah from confiscating it. To your surprise, upon hearing the songs, Joel’s eyes had quickly turned glossy. A soft smile brightened his strained face, if only for a moment, as he quietly hummed along to a Destiny’s Child song. When you looked at him questioningly, eyebrows raised at his low humming that didn’t miss a single note, he had shaken his head and looked away. 

“Sarah used to listen to this crap, even dragged me along to some concerts with her friends. I didn’t care for it much but I still remember how it goes I guess,” Joel explained sheepishly. 

“Hard to imagine you partying it up with a bunch of preteens at a concert,” you giggled, squeezing the rough hand that rested on your thigh. 

He chuckled and shook his head, smiling fondly at the memory. 

“I worked a lot but when she wanted to go to things like that, I always tried to make the time. It didn’t always work out, Tommy used to pick up some of the slack when I couldn’t be there, but I tried,” he said. 

You smiled at that, feeling warm at the thought of Joel standing in a crowd of screaming pre teens simply because his kid wanted to be there. It was comforting to know that he had always been that way, a true caretaker through and through, even long before the world went to shit. The world ending may have hardened him for a period of time, but the man that did everything for his pup was still lurking inside, waiting for the right person to draw him out again. 

Plus, even though Joel said he thought the music was crap, there was a part of you that wondered if he truly disliked the catchy tunes as much as he claimed to. It was hard to believe that he hated the songs when he seemed to know the words to the majority of them. As you listened to him softly mumble along to the third song on the track, you noticed how soft he looked. All of the lines in Joel’s face had smoothed out, making him look like a young man again as he maneuvered the car around abandoned vehicles and snow piles. 

With him so relaxed, you decided that it was the perfect time to ask him some questions. When Joel had confided in you in the carcass of a child’s bedroom back at the cabin so many moons ago, a million questions about Sarah and Ellie, about him as a younger man, had surfaced in your mind. However, you held off, knowing that him telling you about their deaths and his belief that he failed them was already so much for him. In addition to that, the two of you had just mated, so you believed that you would have all the time in the world for those questions. Nevertheless, life has a funny way of laughing at a person’s assumptions and Joel had been taken from you that very same day. 

“What else would you guys do together?,” you asked him.

And that was how the day was spent, with you cozying up to Joel’s side as he drove through the quiet and icy streets, listening to him tell stories about the girl that he lost. By the end of it, you felt like you knew the free spirited and self reliant teen that was his entire life before the outbreak. The way he brought her to life with just his words was truly impressive and you could tell that it was lifting a bit of the weight that pressed down on his shoulders. 

“I wish I could have met her Joel,” you had admitted to him after he finished telling the story about Sarah and Tommy creating hand signals to mess with him. 

Joel sighed, “Me too darling. I think she would’ve liked ya, always went on about me meeting my soulmate someday. She really believed in true love, true mates, all that shit. Can’t tell you how many of those teen romances that girl took me to, wanted to burn the damn theater down. ” 

You laughed and leaned up to peck his cheek, earning a smile from him from the gesture. 

“You don’t believe in it? True love, true mates, all that shit,” you asked, mimicking his southern drawl as you repeated his list. 

Joel blinked and took his eyes off the road for a moment, raking them over your features before he returned his gaze to dying day. The red tinge to his cheeks deepened, making you smile at his sudden shift into a bashful teenage boy. It was cute but as usual, you restrained yourself from telling him that. There was something about Joel that led you to believe that he wouldn’t take kindly to being called cute, despite the fact that it was one hundred percent true. 

“I didn’t before,” Joel admitted quietly, his words almost overpowered by the roar of the ancient engine. 

“And now?,” you prodded, snuggling deeper into his side to breathe in the spiciness of his musk. 

He swallowed audibly and placed a kiss on the top of your head, tightly squeezing one of your hands in his before he answered. You knew the answer, you felt it in every moment spent with Joel. Still, you wanted to hear him say it. 

“Well, now I’m more inclined to believe her,” Joel murmured against your hair. 

That made you smile brightly, twisting around to steal a kiss from his lips. He indulged you for a few seconds, humming as your lips met his and allowing you to take from him until he had to pull away. Grousing about needing to pay attention to the slickened streets, Joel had carefully shoved your head back to its place against his shoulder. Despite his grumbling, you knew it was just a front to cover up his distaste for vulnerability and swiftly let him switch the topic of conversation. 

After telling a few buffer stories about his younger brother, your favorite being the one where he had to bail Tommy out of jail for streaking a televised football game, Joel had even talked about Ellie a little, although you could tell that it was harder for him to do so. The wound of losing her was still too fresh to aggravate with the same type of storytelling he had used to talk about Sarah, yet you were just happy to finally know something more about the girl. Plus, it was nice to finally understand the reasoning behind why Joel had so many random things in his cabin. 

The butterfly on the wall of the bedroom was for Sarah, something about it reminding him about a trinket that had hung in her room once in Austin. The keychain with the soccer ball that hung on the hooks near the front door was also something he picked up to remind him of his first born. However, the joke book on his bedside table that he constantly skimmed, the random comic books and space travel monographs mixed in with his more well read westerns and crime mysteries, were all reminiscences of Ellie. 

After hearing about his girls, Joel began to ask you about what you remembered about your life before the outbreak. The memories you had from that short time period were slim but you managed to tell him a few things about your parents, the holidays you celebrated, and the things you liked to do. Joel perked up when he heard about your father’s profession as an architect, quickly trying to get as much information about his work as he could. You couldn’t tell him much, given the fact that his work had just been odd symmetrical drawings to a five year old, but you told him about how he used to point out the types of buildings he worked on as the family drove through town. 

“Sarah would always roll her eyes at me when I pointed out the houses I worked on. It’s a part of the job I’m afraid,” Joel laughed. 

You smiled, “I didn’t mind it. He was always pretty good at getting people excited about the things he cared about, it was like his superpower or something.” 

“Glad to know you come by it honestly,” he joked. 

The pinch you gave to his side made him chuckle and swat your hand away. Joel shook his head and leaned forward to press his lips to your forehead again. The feeling of his mouth pressing into your skin made you smile and shimmy even closer to him. If you were any closer to Joel, you’d be on his lap, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to relish in it. Like magnets, the two of you were fused together when in each other’s presence. To do otherwise felt unnatural. 

“I used to work with a lot of architects back in the day. Always thought that if I had had the time or money, maybe that’s what I would’ve ended up doing,” Joel sighed wistfully. 

You cocked your head, “What do you mean? Why couldn’t you?”

He laughed in a way that made you feel a bit sour, like he was making fun of you for not understanding a world you had barely been a part of when it ended. 

“S’not how it worked honey. To be an architect, you had to get a bachelor’s degree and then a master’s degree too. That shit ain’t free and it surely wasn’t cheap either. Only people with money or enough brains to get a scholarship could go. Plus, I had Sarah. Harder to go once you have a family, all the money goes to your number one priority,” he explained. 

The thought of school being expensive, or costing anything frankly, was so bizarre to you. In the few QZs you had passed through with your mom, the schools were compulsory and nobody paid for it. Except maybe with their lives and service to FEDRA when they got old enough. And with Josiah’s community, you had learned to read and write under the watchful eye of Miriam. Nobody paid her to teach the kids the things she remembered from her time in the school system and nobody had to, she just did it because that was what the community needed. 

“Well that’s fucking stupid,” you scoffed. 

Joel laughed, “I agree.” 

“I wanted to be a doctor once. If I presented as a beta like I hoped I would, that’s what I was going to do. There was a doctor back home that said he’d teach me but that didn’t work out, I had to be a wife instead,” you admitted. 

He looked over, brushing his eyes over your figure before he squeezed your hand and brought it to his mouth to kiss. 

“You would’ve been good at it,” Joel said quietly. 

There was nothing to say to that. The would’ve, should’ve and could’ves of this world didn’t matter. All that mattered was the here and now. And your here and now wasn’t too bad, all things considered. It’s not that there weren't hard feelings when you thought of how you used to dream of being a healer, but having Joel certainly lessened the sting. 

That night, when you had finally convinced Joel to pull off the road before he swerved into a ditch, there was a lightness between the two of you. You even managed to lure Joel into the backseat with you under the guise of sharing warmth, the real reasoning behind your plea being to trick him into getting a few hours of sleep. 

Although Joel had waved off any accusation that he had been up all night, you knew deep down that he likely sat up until the sun was rising. The bags under his puffy eyes didn’t lie. After he had maneuvered his way into the one sleeping bag he could find before leaving, you had taken it upon yourself to reach up and swirl your fingers through his curls until you felt him drift off. 

Sitting up as much as you could, you eased the shotgun that he held like a lifeline against the canvas bag out of his hands. Joel’s brow furrowed for a moment and you stilled, watching as he fought against the heaviness of his eyelids before his features went slack again. Carefully, you grasped the cold metal with both hands and sat up against the locked door. Joel grunted, scooching closer while he dreamed and burrowing his face into your soft legs. You smiled down at him, brushing a few locks of hair from his forehead while he drifted deeper and deeper. 

Joel stayed asleep, completely unaware of your guardianship as he snuggled his face further into your lap, his nose practically shoved in between your thighs. After a few minutes, his arms came up and hugged your mid section until his face was completely buried. You suppressed a laugh, thinking about how even in sleep, Joel needed to be in between your thighs. Being completely trapped in place by his strong hold, you were forced to hold in bouts of laughter as his snores tickled your sensitive skin. It didn’t bother you, in fact it was a relief that Joel was finally getting some sleep despite the stressful circumstance. 

When the sun finally started peaking through the trees, pouring in through the windows and reflecting off of the snow so that you had to squint to keep watch of the treeline, Joel began to stir. You carded your fingers through his hair, trying to ease his transition into consciousness but it didn’t matter. Joel woke up with a start, dazed and frustrated as he tried to pinpoint his whereabouts. And the second it came back to him, he was pissed. 

“Why the hell didn’t you wake me up?,” he barked. 

Despite his rage, Joel was still careful not to jostle you too much as he ripped himself from your shared sleeping bag. The sudden loss of his body heat made you whine, with the cold rushing in to bite at your legs until he swiftly covered them back up with the thick fabric. It was a poor substitution for Joel, but you still appreciated his frustrated efforts to keep you warm. 

“Joel, you slept for like two hours before we left. And before that, you hadn’t slept in days. You can’t keep yourself safe, let alone me, if you don’t let yourself rest for a bit,” you chided, reaching forward to smush down some of his more unruly strands of hair. 

He grumbled a bit, bitterly fixing his rumpled clothing before he moved to exit the vehicle. Just as one of his hands gripped the door handle, you stopped him with a soft squeeze to the hand that was still wrapped around yours. He paused, seemingly unaware that he was still holding your hand until you squeezed his fist. 

“This way, you can be rested while you drive us and I’ll sleep on the way. That’s fair, isn’t it baby?,” you prodded, throwing in the pet name for good measure. 

Joel groaned dramatically, glaring at you without any real heat before he finally nodded and exited the vehicle. He didn’t say anything and he didn’t have to, you knew that he appreciated the rest. He was just too stubborn to admit it. Instead of admitting defeat, Joel threw himself into the front seat and snapped at you to go to sleep so that he could focus on the road. You nodded, biting your lip to keep in your giggles at his grumpy theatrics. He didn’t mean it, he was just upset that you went without sleep on account of him. 

If he was truly angry with you, Joel wouldn’t have had to bite the inside of his cheek to ward off a grin when you leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on the side of his face as he started the car. He gruffly waved you off, grumbling about you being a pain in the ass as you settled in for a nap in the back. Still, a few minutes later as you drifted into sleep, you caught his quiet admission of love before you conked out. 

There was hope when you fell asleep, hope that this trip to Jackson could be like a reset for the two of you. Maybe it wouldn’t be as hard as you had originally thought, maybe it could be fun. Half cocked daydreams about having a nice drive with the man you loved, followed by a happy reunion between brothers and easy first encounters with his family who were now technically yours as well, were dashed in the dying light of your second day on the road.

After a loud bang had woken you from the nap, the following clunking noise had pulled a groan from your mouth as you sat up. Joel cussed, veering to the side as the awful clunking slowly petered off until the engine stopped completely. Coasting to a stop amongst the snow, you both sat in silence for a moment before simultaneously exiting the warm embrace of the car. 

Smoke poured from beneath the hood, making Joel pinch the bridge of his nose before he even had a chance to lift it. Sighing to himself, you watched as he finally propped up the metal and tried to look through the black plumes that rose from the rusted organs of the car. He swore, waving some of the smoke away as he stared into the mess. 

“Fucking hell, looks like it’s the fuel injector,” he murmured to himself. 

You swore, “Do you have any brake cleaner? We could clean it with that.”

Joel raised his brow, turning to look at you with a questioning glance, to which you shrugged. 

“Rachel taught me some stuff about cars when we were on the road. Just some stuff about upkeep and a few quick driving lessons, nothing serious,” you said. 

He nodded, seemingly impressed by your admission as he turned back to the car. 

“Well, it’s a good idea darling but no we don’t. Wouldn’t matter anyway, I can’t get to it without taking off the manifold and a bunch of other shit. This thing is toast,” Joel sighed. 

You swore, swerving your head to take in the surrounding area. The sun sat low in the sky, threatening to disappear behind the trees as the day bled into night. With the trees that crowded the road and the layers of thick snow covering every step, the two of you were seemingly stranded. There was no way that you could stay here for the night, parked in the middle of the road while the darkness passed. The road was too dangerous, leaving you both open to anyone or anything that happened to wander by. 

“What are we going to do?,” you asked him. 

Joel stiffened and whipped his head around, scanning the area before coming to the same conclusion as you. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, all of his muscles suddenly taut beneath his many layers. Watching him tense up with the pressure, it was like yesterday had never happened. He looked like a caged animal as he began to pace around the car, mumbling to himself as he tore at his hair. 

“Joel.”

He didn’t answer. 

“Joel,” you said again with more insistence. 

Again, no answer came from Joel as he stomped through the snow around you. The sigh that came from your lips was long and drawn out, as you knew that there would be no calling him back from such a state. Joel’s emotions were like a hurricane sometimes, with the strong winds of his anguish constantly threatening to carry him away. Worse than that, he was often so focused on trying to survive the storm that he failed to notice any open shelter nearby. The more time you spent with him, the more you realized that he needed someone to yank him out of the chaos and into safety. 

After watching Joel’s aggravated circles around the car for a moment, you picked up on his patterns and stepped forward. Placing yourself in his way, you calmly waited until he stomped back around to the hood of the car and walked right into you. He stumbled back a bit, his eyes wide at your sudden intervention. Before he could shake it off and return to his plotting, you gripped the sides of his face. Leaning forward, you knocked your forehead against his and waited for him to settle. 

While all of the muscles in his upper body remained bunched together, you smiled when he finally calmed down enough to sigh. His breath was warm against your face, a stark contrast to the freezing wind that only worsened as the sun slinked away. The cold was a reminder of how truly fucked the two of you were, as well as how badly you needed him to keep a clear head. 

“What are you thinking right now baby? Talk to me,” you murmured. 

He let out a frustrated noise, something between a grunt and a whine, before he leaned back. You snatched his hands as he tried to walk off, unwilling to allow him to restart his manic circling until he acknowledged your words. Joel sighed again, more harshly this time but his feet never moved. Instead he stood still, chewing the inside of his cheek and squinting at his surroundings. It was as if he was trying to will some shelter into existence. 

“We can’t stay here, s’too open,” he said gruffly. 

You nodded, “I know but it’s going to be dark in an hour. If we don’t find some shelter, we’ll freeze to death.” 

“I know that,” Joel snapped. 

Raising both hands from his in mock defense, you mouthed an overly sassy, “okay, jeez,” before dropping them back down at your side. Joel’s gaze softened and you could tell he felt bad about the way he spoke to you, but he didn’t try to redeem himself. Instead he swallowed and ran his hands over his face, cursing to himself as he tried to smush the thoughts racing through his mind into a cohesive sentence for you. 

“I uh, I know where we are for the most part. Been up this way once or twice, although it was a long time ago. We got a couple options, though I’m not sure I like either of them too much,” Joel explained. 

You nodded as he grabbed your hands on his own this time, watching as he nervously rubbed over your knuckles with his thumb. Joel used your hands like a stress ball, squeezing and prodding at your digits in order to get the words out and you let him. It was better than watching him implode from the panic he felt. 

“First option is the safest but probably the most rough. A few clicks that way, there’s a whole bunch of caves. Montana is actually full of them. We could hunker down there until first light. It’d be cold but the likelihood of something finding us is low,” Joel explained. 

The grimace on your face was only there for a second, but you knew that Joel saw it. Although it may have been the safest option, the thought of shivering together against the hard ground of a cave as the wind whistled through the space was not attractive in the slightest. It was embarrassing to admit to even yourself, but in the past few months you had been spoiled. First by Joel’s soft sheets while he was stranded on the couch, then later by his warm body pressed up against yours as the two of you shared the space. The time apart from him had only made you crave the luxury of warmth and comfort even more. 

“Okay, well, the other option could be comfier but it won’t be safe. There’s a small town nearby with a few residential buildings here and there but I don’t really know what’s in ‘em. Only been through it once with Tess and that was damn near ten years ago,” he continued. 

Entering an unsweeped and unknown town could go a million different ways. There could be raiders, or worse; there could be infected waiting to rip your faces off. However, there was a small chance that the two of you could find refuge. Or at least, somewhere with walls strong enough to block out the harsh winds. And with the cold nipping at your nose and fingers, you decided that camping out in the snow would have to wait for another day. 

“Town?,” Joel sighed, the exasperation in his tone evident as he expertly guessed your pick. 

You nodded once, “Definitely town.” 

- Joel - 

There was a small part of Joel that wanted to grab your shoulders and shake some sense into you. He appreciated the way you managed to get under his skin, accepting that there was no hiding the reasons behind his constant brooding from you any longer. Nonetheless, the way you so carelessly moved through the world in times of crisis was grating on him. It wasn’t just that he was jealous, it was that he was genuinely convinced that the haphazard way you trapeze through life was bound to get you killed. 

Staying in the cave was what he would have chosen. The ground would be hard and as unforgiving as the icy winds that howled through the trees in the darkness of night, but you would be as safe as he could possibly ensure. He’s not even sure why he allowed himself to voice his thoughts, especially when he knew which choice you were likely to make. As the two of you crept through the silent streets towards the smattering of houses off of the I-15, he kicked himself for not choosing. You wouldn’t have known any better, but he had felt bad about lying to you again after already being caught lying about the intruders that almost shot him. 

Joel took the lead, deciding to venture further into the town rather than choose one of the houses on the outskirts. Despite the fact that there was a higher chance of infected being in the heart of the area, he knew that raiders were more likely to be hiding in the depths of the dilapidated homes near the edges. If he had to choose, he’d rather go up against the infected. At least with them he knew exactly what they wanted, humans were a bit more tricky and he wasn’t willing to leave anything up to chance with you at his side. 

The main strip wasn’t much to write home about, with just a one story museum that likely boasted the history of mining in the town and a small K-12 school that served the few kids that had resided there once upon a time. Coming to the center of the town, Joel halted in place, straining his good ear for any sign of life amidst the snow. He grunted when you bumped into his back, turning to raise an eyebrow at you in annoyance. Before you could respond, he watched as your sheepish expression turned fearful when a cry ripped through the stillness of the air. 

Joel whirled around, trying to pinpoint the shriek in the distance but coming up empty. Still, just because he couldn’t see it, didn’t mean that it couldn’t see him and he knew he needed to make a decision fast. Where there was one infected person, there was usually about a million more that were connected to the first and he needed to get you both hidden before they came. After looking around, his eyes landed on a small red brick building that served as the town library. The place wouldn’t have food or a bed, but it was because of that reason that the likelihood of it holding any stragglers or infected was slim. 

“Follow me, quietly,” Joel whispered, making sure to fully enunciate the last part. 

He knew that you had some experience with infected, the majority of it likely being on the trip to save him, but he wasn’t sure how well you would do with the weight of an entire diseased town bearing down on you. Joel could barely handle it, and he had been at it for years. Every time he managed to survive a horde, he knew that there was nothing to it but pure dumb luck. Luck that he wasn’t trying to press today. 

As swiftly as he could without alerting any encroaching predator, Joel jogged over to the entrance of the library with you hot on his heels. He tried the door once, then two more times, before sighing and looking around for another way in. There were windows that could be broken with a clenched fist, but he wasn’t keen on the noise it would make and wasn’t entirely sure either of you could fit through the frame. 

Suddenly, from the opposite side of town his ear picked up on the telltale sign of clickers. Joel’s heart clenched in his chest, the reality of the situation sinking in as he switched the safety off on his gun. Just as he turned to instruct you to follow him around back, he was shocked to see your legs hanging from a window that you must have pushed open while he was distracted. 

“What in the hell?!,” Joel whispered with urgency, watching as you tumbled in through the small opening. 

Your head popped out and he rushed towards you. The panic that plucked at his heart strings only grew worse as you failed to survey the room behind you and he tried uselessly to urge you to turn around. His hands were swatted away, which made him want to turn back and rip the front door off its hinges in order to get to you. 

“I’m going to go unlock it for you, stay here,” you whispered as you turned back towards the dark space. 

Joel grabbed your arm before you could move away, the fear he felt making it impossible for him to let you go. 

“Wait, no, you can’t just - what if there’s something in there?!,” Joel rushed out. 

You shrugged, shaking off his grasp with thinly veiled annoyance as you answered with a simple, “Christ Joel, then I’ll kill it.” 

And just like that you were gone, even shutting the window in his face for good measure. Joel balked at your attitude, feeling like the sky was falling as he tried to peer in through the dirty glass. There was nothing he could do out here. Even if he could push it back open, he was too wide for the window. He wasn’t even sure how you managed it, briefly worrying about how your hips were probably bruised from the squeeze. And the door was locked. That meant that Joel had no choice but to return to the front door to wait and hope that the clickers that stumbled their way out of whatever hiding place they were in would stay away. 

At first it was fine, Joel comforted himself in the knowledge that you were quick on your feet despite whatever physical advantage any adversary may have. However, as the seconds turned to minutes, he was becoming more and more panicked. What if there were infected in there? What if you had been torn to pieces? Or worse, what if another type of enemy was lurking within? Had they hurt you? Were you crying out for him despite the fact that he couldn’t hear? Joel was sprinting around the building in search of another door before he had even finished that last thought. 

Rounding the back of the building, Joel gulped as he saw footprints embedded in the snow. They were uniform and direct, not the clumsy and aimless footprints of an infected person. Seeing the prints, Joel rushed forward and nearly ripped the door off of its hinges trying to pry it open. He didn’t care about the loud snap from the sheet of ice that covered the door splintering beneath his hands, or the way the hinges screamed at him in protest, none of that mattered to him at all. His entire focus was on getting to you. 

The air was stale when he rushed into the space, the smell of moldy books making his nose wrinkle as he stepped into the back room. Moving through the hall, he halted in his tracks when he saw the discarded supplies of strangers piled along the wall of the break room. Cussing to himself for waiting for so long, Joel picked up his pace and ran into the main room. 

It was there that Joel saw something he hoped to never see. A woman was bleeding on the ground, with a knife lodged between her ribs as she choked on her own blood. Meanwhile, another man was long since dead near the entrance way, his throat likely having been slit when you tried to open the door for him. 

In the center of the room was you, with your toes barely touching the ground as an alpha had you pinned against one of the bookshelves. He couldn’t help but catch the way your eyes bulged, nails uselessly scrubbing at his face and neck in an attempt to get the man to let you down. Joel’s vision became narrow at the sight and he lunged at the man, knocking the both of you over in the process. 

While you rolled away, coughing and wheezing in mouthfuls of the musty air, Joel placed himself on top of the man’s chest. His fists came down in a flurry of rage, the solid weight of his entire being coming down hard against his face. The anger he felt towards this man blocked out the rest of the world, making him fixate on destroying the only remaining threat towards his mate. 

This wasn’t just about this particular group of strangers who tried to harm you for Joel, it was about every individual who had thought to harm you while he was taken, as well as anyone who had harmed you before. He had felt helpless for years now, and it had worsened to a certain extent upon meeting you. The realization that Joel could not protect you from everything after being taken, that he was just a man in a broken world that refused to give anyone a break, was a hard pill to swallow. He wanted nothing more than to wrap you in bubble wrap and keep you hidden on a shelf somewhere, but he knew that was ridiculous. You would never let him coddle you like that. 

Thoughts of all of those that have ever and would ever try to wrong you whirled in his brain as he beat the man’s face into the ground. Blood spattered against his face and soaked his hands, but he barely felt it. His slowly healing knuckles cracked open as he broke all of the bones in the man’s face, his own blood mixing with that of his victim’s. Joel was so wrapped up in his own fears and rage that he didn’t notice the way his fists were now connecting with the hardwood, his punches having completely pulverized what had long since been a corpse. Nothing but a pulpy mess remained, yet it was only when he felt cold fingers touch the side of his face that he paused his assault. 

“Baby, baby, look at me. Hey, it’s okay. You can stop now, he’s gone, okay? We’re safe Joel, I’m safe,” you soothed while your shaky hands uselessly tried to wipe the blood from his face.  

Joel blinked and looked down, feeling his stomach clench at the mess he had made. He didn’t feel bad about killing the bastard, in fact he would gladly do it again in a variety of different ways. However, as he looked back up at your concerned face, he did feel a little remorse at unleashing all of that darkness in front of you. Almost mechanically, Joel stood from the corpse and turned towards your shaking frame. 

He knew you were talking but he couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears, his heart still thumping painfully against his ribcage. The need to flee was strong but he had no idea where to go. With the infected likely stumbling out in the streets and the sun now absent from the sky, it seemed that the two of you were stuck in here with the slowly rotting bodies. At least with the frigid air, their bodies were unlikely to start smelling until spring. 

“Joel!,” you exclaimed, slapping at his chest until he finally stopped looking through you. 

“M’gonna go check the doors and windows, make sure none of them get in here,” he murmured. 

Pushing past you, Joel hurriedly stepped back into the hall and peeped his head out of the backdoor. Just as he thought, he could hear low moans and grunts from somewhere nearby but his eyes were too weak to make out exactly where they were coming from. As carefully as he could, he pulled the door shut and latched it. With his breath held tight in his chest, Joel waited for any sign that they had heard the groan of the rusted hinges but none came. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

What a goddamn mess, he thought to himself. 

Despite the fact that the threat was gone, his brain hadn’t given his body the memo yet. He felt like a wild animal that had been placed in a zoo, poked and prodded at until it went feral and ripped open the first poor soul to let it out. Energy coursed through his veins, making all the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up and his muscles tense in preparation for an attack. 

When he finally turned around and bumped into you, it took everything in him not to pounce. The only thing that stopped his adrenaline fueled mind was your scent, with the soft tendrils of your aroma slightly easing the storm that raged within. Joel breathed it in deeply, trying to stop himself from reacting negatively to your gentle touch as your hands found their way to his heaving chest. 

“All of the doors and windows out front are secure. I could see some infected out in the street but whatever noise we made, they haven’t been able to pinpoint it yet. If we stick back here and try not to make too much noise, we should be okay,” you said. 

He nodded and tried to push past you. His brain was unwilling to accept the fact that you had already checked the front half of the library correctly but again, you stopped him. Joel huffed, looking down at you with frustrated scowl. He chewed on the inside of his cheek until blood dripped onto his tongue, channeling all of his pent up fear into the small act of self mutilation. The taste of the coppery liquid was bitter but he swallowed it all down and continued to chew, the pain being one of the only things keeping him grounded. 

“What are you going to do Joel? The place is as safe as it could be, everyone that was in here is dead thanks to BOTH of us. There’s no more fire to run off and douse, we’re okay. It’s just us in here,” you said with a bit more conviction. 

Suddenly, Joel’s anger shifted its focus, pinpointing you as a major reason for the reason he felt it. If you had simply waited for him, if you had listened for once in your life, perhaps there wouldn’t be angry red marks wrapped around your barely healed throat. Joel could have come with you through the back door, the both of you taking the group of alphas out together. But no, you had to go at it alone, leaving him freezing and worried out in the snow. If he hadn’t come in when he did… Well, he didn’t want to think about it. 

Gripping your arm, Joel stomped into the break room where he had seen the supplies and shut the door behind him. Heaving in deep breaths through his nose, his nostrils flared as he released you and ripped off his gear, all the while trying his best to ignore the way you stared at him. The look on your face was full of worry and confusion, which made him even angrier. 

Once his gear was off, he focused on making a nice bed for you on the ratty old couch. Gathering up the sleeping bag and the few throw blankets that were scattered around the room, he tried his best to make the makeshift bed comfortable despite how pissed he was. When he was done, Joel gestured to it angrily before stomping over to chair by the only window to keep guard for the night. 

You sighed loudly, irking him as you started with a high pitched, “Jooooel.” 

“Don’t,” Joel snapped, already fuming at whatever it was that you were gearing up to say. 

The sound of you dropping your supplies tricked him into thinking that you were actually going to go to sleep and he relaxed in his seat. However, Joel kicked himself for truly believing you might leave it when he heard your hesitant footsteps come towards him. He turned his head, his gaze daring you to step any further past the invisible boundary he had placed between you. Perhaps sensing his limits, you stayed a few feet away from him. 

“Joel, please just talk to me. I can’t sleep if you - if we - fuck, just say something to me please,” you tried. 

In the blink of an eye, Joel was up out of the chair. Walking over to you in two long strides, he towered over you in the stillness of the room. He picked up on the way your breathing picked up, watching how your chest quickly moved up and down for a moment before his eyes snapped back up to meet yours. Normally, Joel would step back and allow you some space to breathe, but he didn’t this time. This time he was livid. This time, he couldn’t hold back. 

“Now you want to talk? Fine sweetheart, let’s talk. You went in here without me. You left me out there, worried and alone, without a second fucking thought.,” Joel seethed. 

Joel watched as your mouth fell open, surprised at the harshness of his tone. There had only been a few moments where he had spoken to you in a tone like this, brief flashes of the venomous man he was in the time between losing Sarah and meeting Ellie, but he usually managed to reign it in. But he wasn’t going to let you off so easily this time, he couldn’t. Not when you seemed devoted to getting yourself killed on a daily basis. 

“I have been trying so fucking hard to stay alive, just so that I can keep YOUR ass alive, but you don’t even care, do you? No, you just go through life without a care in the world. You don’t even think for a goddamn second how it might affect me,” he snapped. 

The laughter that left your mouth pissed him off even more and he couldn’t help the withering look he sent your way. Sure, he had a few moments of weakness when it came to persevering through the pain in the recent past when he was imprisoned but that was different. There was only so much torture the body and mind could endure before it considered giving in. You however, seemed completely comfortable walking into the line of fire at the drop of a hat. At the slightest invitation, you would place yourself in danger and it made him want to scream. 

“Is that what you think?,” you asked incredulously. 

Joel stepped even further into your personal space, crowding you as he spat, “That’s what I fucking know.” 

The scowl you sent his way was bitter, filled with resentment at the accusation, but again Joel was unmoved. 

“For once, could you just entertain the possibility that I might be just as capable as you? Hm? That maybe I could be an ally rather than someone you need to protect? Just because I’m an omega, doesn’t mean I’m some damsel in distress!,” you shot back. 

Joel balked, “I don’t remember ever once saying that I thought you were a damsel. We are fucking mates, partners for Christ’s sake! That means we do stuff TOGETHER, we decide things TOGETHER, but you didn’t wait for me. You decided to go off by yourself and completely disregarded me. That’s not fair.” 

No response came from you, so Joel soldiered on, stepping even further into your space so that the two of you were practically nose to nose. His heart drummed wildly in his chest, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins as your face came closer to his. At this level, Joel could feel each puff of air that came from your mouth. Short little breaths washed over his face, warming his cold lips as they hovered inches from yours. 

“Do not ask me to stand back so that you can get yourself killed. If you want me to take you seriously, fine, start acting like my partner then. Wait for me to come with you for fuck’s sake and if I say something looks sketchy, maybe fucking listen for once,” he hissed.  

You blinked, “Joel, I -”

He shook his head and you stopped. 

“I know that I’ve kept you in the dark before, when I thought it was for your own good, but we talked about this! I promised and you promised not to lie to eachother, to fucking stay alive for each other. And you turn around and do this? You could’ve died!,” Joel exclaimed. 

He wasn’t sure how it happened or who acted first but with the adrenaline and emotions running high, your mouths were suddenly tangled in one another. The kiss was a brutal clash of tongues and teeth, with both of you channeling all of your frustrations and fears into each touch. He felt your fingers dig painfully into his scalp, tearing at the strands animalistically, and he moaned at the sharp sting. Before the kiss could get too heated, Joel pulled away. 

“Joooooel,” you whined at his sudden absence. 

He smirked at your desperation, another type of urgency taking over his previous emotions. If this was what he needed to get through to you, so be it. 

“No. You want to make this right? On your knees for me baby,” Joel commanded. 

There was a pause, your mouth popping open almost cartoonishly before you hastened to heed his request. The anger in the room shifted, turning into an intoxicating mix of lust and devotion. Joel needed control and you needed the connection in any way that he could give it. 

After your first time together, he had been hesitant about showing this side of himself. The last thing he wanted to do is scare you off, especially when you were just beginning to explore the more pleasurable aspects of life. However during your heat, when you had refused to let him touch you and subsequently fucked the shit out of him on the couch after finding him out in the storm, Joel knew that he was in the clear to delve a little deeper. 

After he made quick work of his belt and zipper, Joel didn’t miss the little bit of drool that peeked out of the side of your mouth at the sight of his quickly hardening cock and it made him grin. Leaning forward, he pinched your chin between his fingers. Popping your jaw open, Joel gathered all of the moisture in his mouth and spat into yours. Watching you swallow without him having to ask awakened something dark inside of him and he felt his cock jump between his legs. 

“Be a good girl for me and suck this cock like I know you want to, then maybe I’ll think about letting you cum,” he said. 

Joel swore he died and went to heaven when your tongue lolled out of your mouth in lieu of a response. He cursed the outbreak during moments like these. It felt like he was constantly wishing he could have something to take pictures of you like this, so willing to let him use you however he saw fit. Call him old fashioned, but he was not above the allure of having a polaroid of his girl spread out for him in his back pocket. Something about it stirred up all the possessive thoughts he had about you that he tried to keep locked away inside of him. 

“Fuuuuuck me,” Joel groaned, having to work hard to shake himself out of his own imagination, “If you want me to stop, tap my thigh three times. Okay?”

You nodded dutifully at his words and moved your open mouth towards his throbbing length. As much as Joel wanted to feel you, he pulled you back by the hair. When you whined petulantly at his denial, he softly slapped your cheek in warning and chuckled at the way he noticed your thighs clench together.

“Nuh uh, I need you to use your words darling. What are you going to do if you want daddy to stop?” he chided. 

“I’m going to tap your thigh if I want you to stop shoving your big fat cock down my throat,” you answered, batting your eyelashes at him. 

You really were going to kill him with all the dirty shit you said to him someday. 

Joel gave you a devilish grin, “That’s my girl.” 

After he loosened the grip he had on your bunched up hair, he grunted as he felt your warm mouth envelope the tip of his dick. Your movements were slightly awkward and inexperienced but his eyes still rolled into the back of his head as you started giving hot wet kisses up and down the sides of him. Joel’s breath hitched, precum already dripping down his length as you slobbered all over it. 

“Use your hand for what you can’t fit in your - shit fuck - that’s it honey,” Joel hissed through gritted teeth. 

With your hand added into the mix, soft fingers smearing precum and spit to ease the glide, he was on cloud nine. Each groan he released seemed to boost your confidence and Joel almost fell forward when he felt you take half of his length down your throat. 

“Christ darling, yeah that’s it. Such a good girl taking me like that. You like it don’t you? Bet that little pussy is soaking wet just from sucking my cock,” he moaned. 

The answering whine that sent vibrations down his cock caused Joel to buck his hips into your open mouth, forcing you to gag on it. The feeling of your throat contract around his length made him pant and he tried hard to force his hips to stay put. He cussed at his lack of self control when you backed off and coughed at the intrusion, eyes watering as you sucked in deep breaths. With shaky hands, Joel anxiously reached forward and wiped the dribbles of his precum from your chin. 

“You okay baby?,” Joel panted.

You nodded and smiled coyly, collecting yourself enough to bat your eyes at him while you grabbed his cock. Joel hissed as you restarted your strokes at an unforgiving pace. He wanted to make you voice your affirmation again, to ensure that you were really okay with giving him this type of pleasure, but it was hard to do so when you were licking a hot trail up the side of his length. Joel grunted when your tongue ended its slow journey with a mind breaking flick around his reddened tip, his toes curling in his shoes to fend off the release that was threatening to end him. And when you reached down between his legs to cup his balls, all of the muscles in his stomach clenched. 

“Ooooh shit, sweet girl, my girl, fuck. So good for me, just put your mouth b- ah!”

Once more, he couldn’t even get the request out before you had already swallowed him down. This time you managed to go further, pausing to take deep breaths in through your nose with each inch until his cock was completely buried deep within your throat. He huffed out a strained breath, trying his best to keep himself from losing it. Aside from gathering your hair in his hands to keep it out of your face, Joel remained completely still but it was nearly impossible. 

Joel didn’t want to push you too hard and he was worried that if moved, there would be no stopping his hip’s desire to piston away at your throat. Fears about coming on too strong swirled in his brain, especially as he gazed upon some of the faded bruises that others had left in the days prior. Hurting or scaring you was not and would never be on the agenda for Joel. However, as if you sensed his hesitation, you quickly pulled off and looked up at him with wide eyes. 

“Please fuck my throat daddy,” you said, with your voice already gravelly from taking him so far. 

“Shit baby, are you sure? You don’t have to - god, fuck - don’t have to do that. Feels good either way,” he managed to get out, finding it hard to focus with the way your hands continued to milk his cock and balls. 

You nodded, “Yes please, I want it so bad.” 

He groaned and nodded, using the hair in his fist to pull your face closer to him. A hiss came from his lips when you opened your throat for him, the warm and wet cavern driving him absolutely insane. Tingles of pleasure spread out from his cock, making him sweat as he watched you take him deeper and deeper. Joel started off slow, thrusting in and out gently until he was sure you could take it. The second he heard you begin to moan around him, he picked up the pace more and more until he was roughly fucking your face. 

Drool dripped down the sides of your mouth, creating a mess on his thighs and the floor below. The room was filled with a cacophony of gags and moans, the sound of his balls smacking against your chin making him harden even more. Joel felt drunk on all of it and when he looked down to see you furiously rubbing your clit while his dick rammed deep into your mouth, he knew he was close to cumming. 

“M’gonna cum baby, fuck. Stop honey, you’re gonna make me cum,” he wheezed. 

Joel slapped a hand over his mouth as you increased your efforts. With you swallowing around his length and rolling his heavy sack in your hand, he was finding it increasingly difficult to keep himself from alerting any unwanted guests outside. This was not what he bargained for. When this had started, Joel was in complete control. He had been the one calling the shots, but the second your mouth had enveloped him, the tables were turned. You held all the cards now. 

All it took was a garbled plea for him to cum from you, the vibrations of it making all of the muscles in his body tense, before he exploded. The barrier of his own hand over his mouth was much too weak and he soon felt the soaked hand that was buried between your thighs prying it off to shove your fingers into his mouth. Joel moaned at the taste, dutifully sucking the sweet slick from between your digits as his cock spurted rope after rope of seed down your throat. Your mouth stayed suctioned onto him until he finally reached the point of overstimulation and whined as he yanked your head back. 

Joel was practically swaying on his feet when his cock fell from your mouth. He couldn’t help the groan he let out as he watched you pick up all of the cum that managed to seep from the corners of your mouth and show it to him, smiling as you sucked it off of your fingers. Despite the fact that he had just had his soul sucked clean out of him, Joel’s cock still twitched at the display. The more cum you shoved into your mouth, humming at the taste as he stared down at you, the more he needed to wreck you. 

“Shit baby, you’re filthy,” he sighed dreamily. 

“Am I forgiven daddy?,” you giggled. 

He chuckled, “Fuck yeah honey. Such a good girl, fucking perfect for me.” 

The soft smile you gave him warmed his heart and he answered it by leaning down to pick you up. The moment you were up on your feet, Joel was capturing your lips in a searing kiss. He moaned at the taste of his own release on your tongue, deepening it until you whimpered in desperation. The smell of your arousal was delicious, making his mouth water and his cock harden again already as he yanked off his clothes. 

“Clothes off and then lay on the couch, right now. Need to taste that sweet pussy honey,” he said through feverish kisses, feeling absolutely ravenous for the taste of you.  

When you turned to hurry over to the couch, Joel surprised you with a soft slap to your ass and you jumped. He chuckled softly, playfully raising an eyebrow at you when you turned to scold him. The color in your cheeks darkened at his naked form and you made quick work of your clothes. Once you were fully naked, he grinned as you laid back against the couch, leaving your legs wide open for him to gawk at your weeping slit. 

“Fuuck darling, look at that. She’s so fucking wet for me. Just aching to be filled up, huh?  Do ya think she deserves it?,” he teased. 

The whine you let out was urgent, making him smirk as he kneeled on the hard floors to ghost his breaths over your cunt. The teasing only made you wetter and he watched as more slick was pushed from your winking hole. 

“Yes! Please Joel, daddy, fuck! I need it, need you to touch me. I’ve been good, I’ll be so good,” you cried. 

Joel began a cruel line of kisses up and down the inside of your thighs as you begged. He stopped just before where you wanted him most, restarting on the other side over and over until you squirmed in frustration. 

“That so?,” Joel asked into the soft patch of curls on your mound, breathing in lungfuls of your scent until his cock was completely hard again. 

You nodded, looking down at him with tears in your eyes as you tried to subtly shift closer to his face. Joel laughed at that, easily holding your hips against the cushion with one hand. 

“Are we going to be a team from now on or not? Can’t be running off on me no more, m’kay?,” he asked in a slightly deprecating, yet sweet and syrupy tone. 

“We’re a - fuck,” you stopped for a moment when he pried your pussy lips open with his fingers, exposing your throbbing clit to the open air. Joel waited for you to respond, chuckling as your holes twitched each time his breaths blew air across the sensitive nub. It took a few tries but you finally managed to spit out a response. 

“We’re a team. I-I won’t run off - shit - as long as you don’t either. No m-more lies or running away, we’re - ha - we’re partners,” you spat out through labored breaths. 

Warmth filled his chest at your words, all of the previous anger melting away at your agreement. The two of you were a team, meaning that there would be no more leaving each other without a second thought and no more fibs on the guise of softening the blow. Joel knew that you were not the only or even the main perpetrator in this slight, he had a lot he needed to work on too, but this moment felt like you were both finally understanding each other. In the soft glow of the moonlight, with blood speckled across both of your naked bodies and the corpses of victims only one room away, there was no hiding from one another. The two of you were the same, equals in every sense of the word. 

“M’not going anywhere darling, not ever,” he promised. 

The pleasure filled sigh that you released when his mouth finally connected to your soaked core was divine and he wasted no time worshiping it, dying to hear it again and again. Joel started off soft, circling your clit with his tongue until your fingers latched on to his hair and pulled hard. To ease the growing need, he slipped two fingers inside and rubbed at that one spot along your front wall that made your legs shake. Slick gushed from your core, making him moan as he sucked your clit into his mouth. With your pulsing nub between his lips, sucking on it hard until your hips bucked up against his face. In response to your growing need, he slammed his fingers into you faster. 

“J-Joel, yes! Please, please, please let me cum. Wanna cum for you daddy, love you so much,” you begged him desperately. 

He chuckled, releasing your clit for just a second to mumble a muffled, “Cum for me baby,” into your folds before he leaned back in and sucked the throbbing nub between his lips again.  

That, mixed with the feeling of a third finger suddenly pressing into that one devastating spot that Joel was proud to say only he could reach, had you flying off the edge. With your walls contracting around his digits and your pussy gushing down his wrist, Joel lapped up every bit of slick that he could as you rode out your high. It was only when you whined, weakly pushing his head away as it became too much, that he finally stopped. 

“Fucking hell Joel, you’re incredible,” you chuckled breathlessly. 

He laughed alongside you, his cheeks growing warm at the praise. Joel knew he was skilled in the art of sex. He certainly had enough experience by now to have heard a few good reviews from satisfied partners but pleasing you, pleasing his mate, was different. Before it was just about getting his partner off so that he could follow, with him never wanting to be the asshole that didn’t make his partner cum. But now, Joel could care less about his own pleasure. All he wanted was to be the only one that you ever let make you feel this good. He wanted to devour every inch of you, even if it was in the break room of some rotting library. 

“Back at ya honey,” Joel murmured, kissing his way back up your body. 

When he reached your mouth, Joel’s eyes fluttered closed and he sighed into the soft kiss. His lips covered yours, his heart skipping a beat when you returned it. Sex with you was amazing. Everytime he was left wishing he could fuck you again, but kissing you was something else. He could spend the rest of his life wrapped up in you like this, pressing his mouth against yours until you finally got sick of him. For someone as emotionally constipated as Joel, it was addicting to be able to pour all of the sweet admissions of love that he didn’t know how to say into an act of physical intimacy. That was why when you suddenly pulled back, he couldn’t help the whine he let out. 

“I love you Joel,” you sighed, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. 

Joel hummed, pressing his face into your grasp, “Love you too.” 

He felt drunk off of you. The smell of you, the way you looked splayed out on the couch underneath of him, the feeling of your thumbs rubbing over his cheeks, all of it was too perfect for him. You were too perfect for him. 

“Please fuck me daddy, I want to feel you inside,” you pleaded. 

Joel looked at you through hooded eyelids, nothing but pure adoration on his face. Adoration that was swiftly mirrored by you. Nothing else mattered, just the feeling of being connected in the most intimate of ways. 

“Okay honey, I gotcha,” he answered, moving to wrap your thighs around his waist. 

The groans the both of you let out when he finally pressed inside were muffled, the sounds poured into eachothers mouths rather than out into the open. As he slid in deeper and deeper, Joel found himself trying to focus on anything except you to keep himself from cumming. With your ankles locked around him, heels digging into his back to push him further inside, he bit painfully hard at his mangled cheek to hold it in. The feeling of your hands in his hair, pulling on his curls as you sucked at the sensitive mark on his neck, was enough to make any man explode.

“Shit honey, I can’t - fuck - m’not gonna last long,” Joel groaned into your ear, feeling a bit embarrassed at the truth in his admission. 

“Me neither. Please, just move. Need you,” you moaned. 

With that, he started thrusting. His pace was slow but hard, each snap of his hips hitting that one spot that sent sharp tingles of aching pleasure through your core. The curls at the base of his cock worked in his favor, rubbing against your swollen clit until you were babbling nonsense at him. Joel grunted, sweating as his cock throbbed painfully hard against your tightening walls. 

Joel was so close to making you cum. He felt it in the way your walls twitched, readying to milk his cock dry when you finally came around him. However, the need to cum was becoming too much for him. As he watched you writhe and moan beneath him, all while holding him close and panting against his heated skin, Joel had to make a quick decision to ensure you finished before he did. Sucking his thumb into his mouth, he laved his tongue over the digit until it was soaked. He hadn’t tried this with you yet, but something inside of him told Joel that it would work. 

“Just relax for me babygirl, you’ll like this,” he promised. 

Before you could ask him what he meant, Joel pressed his wet thumb against your asshole. Playing with the sensitive ring of muscle for a moment, he grinned wickedly when you keened and clenched around him. When he heard no objection to his intrusion, he decided to push a little more. 

“Fuck, that’s it. Let me fill you up even more sweetheart. Gonna have both holes stretched out for daddy before long,” Joel said huskily. 

With that, Joel pushed the tip of his thumb into your tight ass. He pressed his mouth against yours, muffling your loud cry with a filthy kiss as he continued to thrust his hips up into your sopping cunt. The slick that poured from your pussy dripped down onto his hand and he used that extra bit of lubrication to shove the rest of his digit inside. Joel groaned when he felt your walls tense up even more than before, your body convulsing wildly he swirled his thumb around the inside of your tight hole. 

“Fuuuuck, thank you, thank you, thank you,” you chanted against his lips as you finally let go. 

Joel held off as long as he could, trying to keep his pace the same while you came, but the feeling of your pussy sucking him in was staggering. When your cunt finally gave him one last weak squeeze, he grunted, thrusting up hard twice before he shoved the entirety of his knot inside. His cum poured inside of you in hot torrents, painting your walls until he could feel your tummy bulge with it beneath him. 

That in itself was enough to have him biting down on your neck and releasing painfully hard again. There was something about filling you up that shut off any higher thinking in his brain, triggering the more primal part of his brain and forcing him to ground down harder against you until he was certain you could take no more. All so that he could ensure that he could mark you from within, making everyone else know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were his. 

By the time the last wave finally ebbed away, Joel was boneless on top of you. It didn’t matter to him that his knees ached against the hardwood floors or that he needed to go check the entrance ways for any sign of intrusion, not when you were rubbing his head so softly and cooing sweet words in his good ear while he came down from his high. In the past, he would’ve scoffed at this type of softness. Now, he reveled in it. 

“- so good at taking care of me. Never had someone love me like you do baby,” was all he managed to catch from the plethora of soft words that were being poured into his ear and it made him groan. 

“Fuuuck,” Joel sighed, completely blissed out from your words and touch, “Are you going for the gold or something?” 

You laughed, “Are you saying that my performance was not already at the gold standard?” 

Joel pulled his face out of the crook of your neck, spotting the lazy grin you had on and he matched it. 

“Nah honey, you’re way better than gold. A multi platinum pro, if you will,” he teased.  

You both chuckled at the corny joke. In this moment, with you smiling in his arms and the promise of a partnership, Joel felt stronger than he had in ages. The road to Jackson was going to be tough and who knew what, or who, stood in the way of safety but he knew he could handle it. Scratch that, the two of you TOGETHER could handle it. 

“We’ve got this baby,” Joel declared with real certainty.

You smiled, “Yeah, we do.” 

- You - 

That night Joel took the first shift keeping watch, retreating back to the chair by the window on the promise that he would wake you for a turn before sunrise. And to your surprise, he actually heeded your request. Watching him settle into the warm cocoon you had made on the couch and drift into a light sleep, you smiled to yourself before slipping out into the hall. Joel probably wasn’t going to be drifting off into the deepest of sleeps, but with your scent permeating the sheets and the warmth of your body left behind, you hoped he would at least be able to doze for a couple hours. 

The back door remained locked shut, along with the front entrance way that was partially blocked by one of the men you had slain. Walking through the main space, you didn’t care to glance at their frozen faces. There was no point in it, not when you couldn’t truly feel guilty for their deaths. 

The one by the door had grabbed when you reached up to unlatch the door for Joel, whispering threats in your ear until you turned and stabbed him. The woman had launched at you after that, leading to a small scuffle that led to her choking on her own blood on the floor. It was the man that had truly caught you off guard. He had hidden amongst the shelves, waiting for you to turn back towards the door before he pounced. After another scuffle that led to you being lifted by the neck, Joel had walked in. 

With Joel having fucked out any residual adrenaline or anger you may have had towards these people, there was no emotional response as you passed through the carnage. All you could think about was the man that was asleep in the other room. His southern drawl in your ear, the warmth of his body against yours, the way his eyes followed your every move. All of it swirled through your mind and you found it extremely hard not to run back into the break room to pounce on him, grinding down on him until he woke up and fucked you again. 

But you couldn’t do that yet. Joel needed to rest and you needed to ensure that nothing disturbed it. That was what kept you pacing around the building, peering out the windows as the night slowly turned to the beginnings of morning. When the sun had barely begun to illuminate the world, you finally saw it. At first you thought it was a hallucination, something your desperate mind dreamt up in the face of being trapped in this god forsaken town, but you soon realized it was real. 

With your heart thumping painfully hard, you turned towards the first body and began to rummage through their pockets. Cursing to yourself as you worked, it wasn’t until you got to the pockets of the deceased woman that you felt the cold metal. There, in the pocket of her oversized work jacket, was the keys to the chevy that was parked a few lots over. The street had been crawling with quite a few infected but if you and Joel could get to it, there was another vehicle that could possibly aid in your escape. Deciding that Joel had had enough rest upon your find, you marched into the back room to wake him. 

He was laid out exactly how you had left him, with his face buried into the discarded sweater you had graced him with when he tried to get you to lay down with him. You knew if you had, the both of you would’ve been asleep in seconds, leaving you open to any and all threats. Joel knew that too, but he still looked so sad as you weasled your way out from his grasp. The sweater was a poor substitute for your body, but it seemed to do the trick. 

The snores he let out were muffled into the fabric and you cracked a grin at the way his face twitched, mumbling incoherent responses to someone as he dreamt. With his shirt ridden up, exposing his soft tummy to your greedy eyes and the way he hugged the sweater so tightly to his chest, you had no choice but to walk to the couch and bend over to give him a kiss. 

Joel hummed in his sleep, his arms shooting out in search of you before they pulled you into his lap. As you fell forward, he turned onto his back, taking the brunt of your weight with a smile when you landed. He chuckled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as you righted yourself on top of him. 

“Morning gorgeous,” he yawned, still blinking heavily as you combed through his curls with your fingers. 

You smiled, “Morning handsome, I have a gift for you.” 

“A gift?,” he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.  

The moment you had flashed Joel the keys, he was completely awake. You had barely been able to get the explanation out before he was up and dressed. Excitement filled you as you trailed behind him, smiling big as you pointed out the seemingly perfect getaway to him a few buildings away. However, upon looking outside, he didn’t seem to share your enthusiasm. 

“Fucking hell, look at them all,” he sighed angrily, gesturing towards the growing group of infected that stumbled around outside. 

You were undeterred. Looking out that window, Joel saw nothing more than all the ways the two of you could be ripped to pieces. Meanwhile, you had a plan. 

“Yeah, but what if they were busy?,” you offered. 

Joel turned to you, his eyes narrowed as he analyzed your words. A frown formed on his face and you tried to keep your face schooled. 

“What do you mean by busy?,” he asked suspiciously. 

There was a solid chance that Joel would refuse to even consider your request, but you knew it was worth a shot. With the promise in mind, you decided it was best to try and talk him through this rather than assume anything. He deserved that. 

“Let me distract them. NO!,” you implored, gripping his arm so that he couldn’t walk away, “Just listen to me for a second Joel.” 

Joel looked down at your hand, the war being waged in his mind playing out on his face for you. First it was outright refusal, the rage at just the insinuation of letting you do something like that as clear as day. Then he softened, likely remembering the oath he had made to you just hours before. After which came the outright annoyance that he was bound to listen. It took everything in you not to laugh at it, especially when you knew that your plan was probably the only viable option. Plus, if the tables were turned, you would hate it as much as he did. 

“Look, if we can get them to fuck off, then we get the truck. Think about how easy it would be to get to Jackson with that thing! We could get there in a few days. I go out and make some noise, try to get them to follow me. Meanwhile, you go and get it started,” you explained. 

Joel scoffed, “And then what?”

“And then, I double back and hop in. You press the gas and BOOM! We’re out of here.” 

He laughed, real peals of laughter that slapped you right in the face. You knew the plan obviously had its downfalls, the first one being the possibility of being killed, but the reward was clearly necessary. With the amount of clickers and runners that were shambling around outside, there really was no other way. The likelihood of outrunning a horde this large was slim to none. And even if the two of you managed to get away, who's to say the elements or another horde or raiders wouldn’t come by to strike you down. This was the only way. 

“Joel, stop laughing at me. I’m serious!,” you snapped, trying to keep yourself from sounding childish. 

Joel wiped the tears from his eyes, catching his breath for a moment before he looked at you head on. The expression he had on was a tad condescending and suddenly, you wanted nothing more than to turn and walk out the door. Proving him wrong would certainly wipe that smug look off his face, but you refrained. If Joel and you had any chance of surviving, or even having a stable relationship in such a fucked up world, you needed to stay calm and listen to eachother. 

“Do you have any idea what you are saying right now? Those fuckers will tear your ass apart if they catch you. Do you really think you could outrun them?” 

You scoffed, “Yeah, I fucking know that I could. I led a horde through miles of goddamn forest just to drop them off at Paul’s doorstep like two weeks ago. I know what the fuck I’m talking about.” 

His face grew somber, with the reminder of your efforts acting as a jolt to his system. As Joel chewed on the inside of his cheek, you moved closer and grabbed his face. He looked wary as you rubbed the stubble on his cheeks with your thumbs, but he didn’t move to stop you. 

“We don’t have enough ammo to shoot them all and trying to outrun them on foot would be pointless. I’m faster than you old man, let me do this,” you begged him. 

Joel clicked his tongue in annoyance at your choice of words, “Are you really pulling the old card with me right now? You know that I am perfectly capable of-”

“-You are perfectly capable of protecting me,” you cut in, “Yes, I know that. You’re so strong baby, but not fast. I’m faster than you, that’s just a fact. If there’s someone who could outrun them out of the two of us, who do you think that person would be?” 

When he didn’t answer, mulling over your words hard as you continued to caress his face, you kept going. 

“And plus, I only started driving without someone’s help a couple of weeks ago. What if it’s standard? I wouldn’t know what the fuck to do. This is the smartest option Joel, even if it fucking sucks,” you said. 

Although you could tell he wanted to deny you again, to dream up some full proof plan that would lead to you never being in any danger, Joel knew it was the only plan that had a chance of working. In the long run, this truck could save your lives. To leave without it was just plain stupid, almost as stupid as going after it in the first place. He ran his hands through his hair, groaning with the stress that was likely raging through his body and you cooed. 

“Talk to me,” you murmured, grabbing his hands before he ripped out the curls you held so dear to your heart. 

Joel squeezed your hands, his eyes fluttering closed as you breathed in and out a few times together. You waited in silence, letting him have a moment to compose himself before you prodded him again. To your surprise, when his eyes finally opened he was calm and collected, the picture of a man ready to walk into the line of fire. The air around Joel changed when he got like this, with him seeming to grow even larger than he was already as a darkness raged within his eyes. It made tingles shoot down to your core to see him so sure of himself, but you ignored them. Now was not the time. 

“If you think you can do this, then let’s work on a plan,” Joel said. 

You smiled, “Already got one baby.” 

-

As you stood at the back entrance with one of your shaking hands resting on the latch, you focused on breathing. Joel was behind you, anxiously pacing while he ran through the plans you had agreed to. Although you didn’t catch anything he said, his voice still soothed you to the point where your hands finally stopped shaking enough to unlock the door. You stilled, taking another moment to collect yourself before you finally swung it open. Just as you moved to open it, a pleading voice came from down the hall. 

“Darling, please look at me,” Joel begged and you turned to face him. 

Despite his level headedness during the negotiation, you saw how the reality of the situation had set in for him in the time since. His mate was about to run outside, calling for the infected to chase her through the streets, all while he sat back and watched. He looked panicked, bordering on terrified, as he stood in the hallway. 

“Everything will be fine baby, I’ll meet you at the truck,” you promised, turning to open the door again. 

Four long strides and a warm hand against the back of your neck halted your movements. Joel gripped you there, turning you in his grasp to face him once more and you sighed. His lips were on yours in an instant, the sweet reminiscence of the expired candy bar the two of you shared before packing up still on his tongue. You made a soft noise as he pulled away, searching his eyes for any sign of hesitation. Joel looked pained and slightly terrified, yet you could tell that the kiss had helped ground him. With him ready, so were you. 

“I’d wish ya good luck but I know you don’t need it. Fuck’s sake honey, it’s like you’ve got a four leaf clover shoved up your ass or something. Always getting out of shit way too easily,” Joel joked. 

You chuckled at that, feeling a weight lifted from your shoulders at his encouraging jest. 

“Well, you would know better than me what’s shoved up there. Did you feel anything?,” you shot back. 

He smiled wryly, “Nah baby, just me.”

The two of you laughed, melting some of the tension that had built up in preparation for this plan. If something went wrong, there was no second option. Either this worked, or the two of you were running for your lives. But somehow, with him being so soft with you, it didn’t feel as dire. Joel always knew exactly what you needed and right now, he knew that you needed him to reign in whatever panic he was feeling. 

“Hey, I love you and I’ll see you out there. If anything goes wrong, run for it baby. Don’t worry about me, I’ll find you. I swear,” he promised. 

All of that nasty doubt reared its head once more but you pushed it down, leaning forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss before you pushed away. Murmuring a soft, “I love you too,” against his mouth, you opened the door before either one of you lost your nerve again. He said something behind you but you didn’t hear it, already stepping out into the bright sun of the early morning and leaving him in the safety of the library. 

Joel shut the door behind you and you tried not to think about how hard that must have been for him, having to leave you out there to go watch the streets for an opening. He was losing it, you felt every ounce of his desperation through the bond you shared and you almost turned back to go comfort him but you shook it all away. If you wanted Joel to see his brother again, if the two of you had any chance of making it, you needed to focus on what laid in front of you. 

Skirting around the edges of the library, you peeked around the corner to see the crowd of agitated infected that roamed the street. Watching them for a moment, you noticed how they roved around in circles, as if their bodies could only remember the pattern of their repetitive trail. Luckily, if you timed it correctly, the path you aimed to take was relatively clear. There were a few strays that didn’t seem to like moving as much as the rest, but you were confident you could dodge their advances. As your heart pounded against your ribs, you sucked down one last heaving breath before you pushed off the side of the building. 

“HEY! OVER HERE YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!,” you shouted. 

Your voice echoed through the empty streets, making every fungus tainted being turn towards you. The solid weight of their stare was terrifying and you began to pick up the pace as the first few runners took charge. 

“DINNER TIME! COME AND GET IT!,” you called over your shoulder. 

And the chase was on. Although you could hear them behind you, barreling towards the only possible host for infection for miles, you refused to turn around. Instead, you focused on dodging the few that stood in the way of the door that flapped in the wind in the distance. A clicker lunged at you from the side but you dodged it, leaping over the fence that stood in the way of you and the plan. 

The second your feet crossed over the threshold to the small home, you turned and slammed the door in the dozens of faces that chased after you. A flurry of heavy thumps landed against the wood, making it creak under the pressure of their fists but you were already sprinting up the stairs. Your heart slammed against your chest, sweat dripping down your back as you barreled towards the exit you had planned. 

Just as you gripped the handle to one of the bedroom doors, you heard it. As swiftly as you had closed it, the door that held back the horde was splitting open, letting in a torrent of infected that were willing to do anything to get to you. The door to the bedroom would be demolished in seconds, but you still took extra care to lock behind you before you raced towards the balcony. Gripping the cold handle, you pulled hard on the glass doors, willing them to open despite the layer of ice that had frozen them shut. 

Just as the glass budged slightly from the third hard pull, moving only a few inches in the right direction, the flimsy bedroom door shuttered from the force of your pursuers. Demented shrieks echoed throughout the house, making you double your efforts as the wood bulged under their weight. A squeal came from the sliding glass from your efforts and you yanked even harder. Just as one of the runners slammed their fist through the only barrier you had left, the glass door opened enough for you to shimmy out of the small opening. 

“Holy shit,” you exclaimed, finally forcing your wide hips through the hole you had made just in time for the door to the bedroom to break. 

As quickly as you possibly could without falling to the street below, you jumped up onto the icy rails of the balcony and hauled yourself onto the roof. Glass shattered below as you picked yourself up, a few of the less attentive infected toppling over the rail in search of you. However, not all of them were so easily fooled and you swore as multiple faces turned upwards, clocking you in an instant.  

Sprinting across the snow covered roof, panting and trying not to fall the entire way, you listened for the few that had managed to make it up. They were close, you felt it in the way your skin crawled, but your target was in sight. Looking ahead, there was a small gap between the house you were on top of and the next, and you hoped desperately that the gap would be enough to lose them. With your healing ribs still sore, the burns on your legs chafing against your jeans and the destroyed bones in your wrist pulsing from the exertion, you were quickly running out of steam. 

“Come on, come on, come on,” you panted, encouraging yourself to keep up the pace as you neared the edge. 

Squealing in terror as you launched yourself from the roof, you closed your eyes tight. If you were about to fall to your death, you didn’t want to see it coming. Instead, you thought of Joel as you fell, hoping desperately that he had made it to the truck on time. 

- Joel - 

He had to hand it to you, you definitely had balls. 

Joel was in awe as he sat at the window, watching as the love of his life screamed her head off to alert the infected. You were right, you were faster than him. Whereas Joel would’ve gone stealthier, using his strength to take out as many as he could before he went full on scorched earth, you were smooth in your approach. Even the runners, as quick as they were, were no match for the way you weaved your way to freedom. 

Joel held his breath when one lunged at you, ready to start shooting through the glass if it grabbed you, but you easily dodged it. The way you effortlessly leapt over the fence was impressive and he made a mental note to tell you that as he watched you finally make it into the house. The infected crowded the front door, pounding at it angrily as you went about your business inside. With them completely focused on getting to you, Joel slipped out the front door. 

If any of them turned back to look, they would have noticed him in the street immediately but they didn’t. That was the reason he preferred to deal with the infected rather than humans, at least the infected were easier to read. With the promise of fresh meat having been waved in their face so blatantly, not a single one of them turned back to look for him as he hurried over to the truck. 

When Joel finally reached the driver's side, he paused, sending off a quick prayer to his girls to watch over you when he heard the infected finally tear through the wood. It took less time than he had originally thought, the cheap and lightweight material of the home likely bought in hopes of saving some cash. 

“This is why I always said to go sturdy, not cheap,” Joel murmured angrily, unable to quiet the angry contractor that lived within him. 

They were in the house now, likely climbing over each other to get to you and he urgently hoped that the plan was still going as he’d hoped. Before Joel could get too far in his own head, he shoved his fears down and climbed into the cab. Shoving the key into the ignition, he sighed and turned it on. The engine roared to life and he sighed, feeling close to tears at the sound of the working vehicle. Now, all he needed was you. 

Drumming his fingers nervously against the steering wheel, Joel stared out the window in search of you. There was a fire escape at the house next door that you were supposed to climb down at any moment, at least that was what he kept telling himself. There were three houses in between this one and the home he had seen you run in, meaning that there were only three big jumps before you were free from the beings that chased after you. 

“Come on darling, you’ve got this. Come back to me now baby,” Joel muttered to himself, the panic growing with every second you weren’t sliding down the icy ladder. 

He thought of Sarah, of Tess, of Bill and Frank, of Ellie, of all the people he had lost in his life. All of their deaths were moments that he felt at least partly responsible for, with his deepest regrets being saved for that of his children’s departures from this world. But if this failed, if you died trying to get this stupid fucking truck, it would undoubtedly be his fault. Joel was the one that allowed you to do this, he even helped plan and actively encouraged it. If you died, he was done for. Ellie was his second chance and then she died. For some reason, he was lucky enough to get a third chance at life with you. Joel didn’t care if it was given to him, he didn’t want a fourth. He wanted you. 

When the fear became unbearable, Joel gripped the door handle and started to push his door open. Fuck the plan, he thought to himself. He didn’t care about it if it meant that you were trapped somewhere or hurt. Joel refused to allow himself to think of any other reason why you might be delayed, he couldn’t will himself to think about you lying dead somewhere or shambling around as an infected. If you weren’t here, it meant that you were held up and needed him. That was the only possibility. 

Just as he placed one foot on the ground, something heavy landed in the bed of the truck with a loud bang that resounded throughout the neighborhood. Joel threw himself back inside and slammed the door shut, thinking it was one of the infected before he heard your urgent voice. 

“GO! GET US THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! THEY’RE STILL AFTER ME!,” you shouted, banging your hands against the roof with urgency.  

Joel swore, shifting into drive and slamming his foot down on the gas as you shouted about the incoming crowd. The truck groaned at the effort but it still lurched out of the snow just in time. One by one, your pursuers fell with a splat onto the driveway as the truck pulled off onto the street. Clickers and runners exploded out from their hideaways, uselessly chasing after the meal Joel had taken from them. He veered out of the residential area and onto the highway, leaving them all behind. 

“Holy shit,” he heard you say, your voice muffled from the glass. 

Reaching back, he slid the back window open with ease and started to ask if you were okay but he was stopped. Instead, Joel’s mouth was left hanging open dumbly as you popped your head inside and started talking a mile a minute. 

“Holy fucking shit, did you see that? There was a goddamn lock on the fire exit, who does that?! I mean, hello?! What if there was a fire?! They were chasing me so I just said fuck it and jumped. Oh my god, tell me you saw that,” you babbled through heaving breaths. 

Joel shook his head dumbly, the relief of hearing you talk was enough to bring a tear to his eye. He swiped at his face, trying his best to make the right noises of affirmation as you continued to explain how you lost the horde. Relief washed over him and he tried hard not to break down completely until he maneuvered the old truck further away. You didn’t seem to notice his distress, too hopped up on adrenaline to do anything other than prattle on about what you had just endured. He waited a solid fifteen minutes, allowing the distance to grow for as long as he could before he needed to stop the car. 

When Joel came to a stop, you cheered and moved to hop out of the back but he was already in front of you. Without another word, he lifted you from the back and pinned you against the side of the vehicle. Shoving his nose into your neck, he snuffled at the skin until the scent there soothed him. His hands were shaking as they danced across your skin, brushing over every part of you to ensure that there were no marks left over from the encounter. Joel couldn’t feel any bite marks but he wasn’t confident that there wasn’t one hiding under your clothes, threatening to take what was his away from him at the drop of a hat. 

“Baby, I’m okay. Hey, look at me. I’m fine,” you cooed. 

It wasn’t until you pulled his head back by the scruff of the neck that Joel realized he was crying. Scratch that, he was sobbing against your skin like a terrified little boy. Which was fitting, considering that was how he felt as you tried desperately to soothe him. He tried to focus on the way your fingers rubbed circles into scalp, knowing that he needed to calm down before he keeled over from the stress but it was nearly impossible. 

“You’re not bit?,” he asked through shaky breaths. 

“No Joel, I’m not bit. I got out just fine, okay? We made it baby,” you answered in the gentlest of tones. 

Joel let out an embarrassing whine when you pulled away, scrambling after you like a lost puppy as you walked towards the truck. He shook like a newborn calf as the wind ripped through the trees, reminding him of how open the area was. All he could think about was how anyone or anything could be lurking in the trees and suddenly, he was glued to your back as you threw the passenger door open. When he tried to help you in, you stopped him and shoved him towards the seat. 

“But I -” he started

“- But nothing cowboy, sit your ass down and let me drive us somewhere safer than this,” you cut in. 

With that, you shut the door in his face and crossed over to the driver’s side. Joel jumped when you opened the door, the old hinges groaning as you slid in beside him. He wasn’t sure why but as you shifted the car back into drive, exhaustion began to creep up and pull at his eyelids. Scooching across the disgusting burnt orange colored bench seat, he couldn’t help but press his body against yours as you drove. He was stuck to your side, gripping your thigh with one hand as he stared at the side of your face. 

“Are YOU okay Joel?,” you asked, glancing over at him from time to time while you tried to focus on the road. 

Joel nodded, overwhelmed with how tired he felt. From the moment he had been woken up this morning, panic had been plucking at all the nerves in his body. By the time you had jumped down into the bed of the truck, all of them were shot to hell and his muscles were aching from the exertion of being clenched all day. The rollercoaster of emotions he had been through made everything feel so raw and he longed to just curl up in bed with you, holding you hostage in his arms until you asked him to let you go. 

“M’okay honey, just real tired. I love you but I was so scared,” he answered truthfully, with his words slightly slurred with exhaustion. 

You hummed and reached up to dig a free hand through his curls, playing with them until his cheek landed on your shoulder. Joel knew he should ask if his big ass head was too heavy for you but he didn’t. He was too greedy for the connection at that moment, needing to be as close to you as he possibly could be in the given circumstance. 

“Love you too handsome,” you said, “Get some rest, I’ll wake you up a bit later.” 

And with the permission granted, Joel was out like a light. 

[apocalypseornaw]

Chance to Be

Follow up to Could Have Been

Years have passed since you lost Benny. Neither of you ever gave up the love you had for the other and well when Dean Winchester sees a chance to help people he loves there is no bounds.

Ask and you shall receive @123passwort

Benny knew the moment the other vampires caught his scent. That mixed with the smell of a human in purgatory would be a beacon. His only hope was to get Sam and Bobby to the portal and hold off anyone else long enough for the youngest Winchester to make it topside.

"Tell Dean I said goodbye and you two take care of Y/N for me" was the last thing he told Sam before taking the obsidian blade he offered and facing the vamps that were out for blood due to the simple fact that he was still working with the Winchesters, still choosing humans over his own kind.

---------

He knew this was going to hurt you. You cared for him, that much he was certain but this had been the only way to ensure Sam made it out of purgatory free and clear.

He hadn't gone into detail of the last year of his life with Dean but he'd made him promise to look after you if something happened. He knew he could trust Dean to keep that promise.

He'd at least gotten to tell you he loved you even if it had been a voicemail and those witches had swore to him that the protections on that pendant would make you harder to injure and make you heal easier. His one hope now was that you lived as long of a life as a hunter was capable. Out of everyone he'd ever met you were one of very few people he was certain deserved a happily ever after and he never would have been able to give it to you.

Word would've gotten out that you were sleeping with a vampire. You would've been ostracized from other hunters and wouldn't have been in much better shape than him. He'd had you and Dean, that'd been it. He knew two people that mattered to him was still breathing and you'd long since gotten in the habit of checking in on Elizabeth as well so as long as he knew that he could exist in purgatory. He could reacquaint himself with the never ending fight just to know you still had the Winchesters and that the man who had raised you to be the amazing woman you were had made it to heaven instead of being stuck in hell.

You hadn't been able to make a kill for months after Benny. The thought of you possibly sending the monster there that could end him? You couldn't deal with it.

What snapped you out of that mindset was Dean almost being hurt on a hunt because of your hesitation.

---------

After taking out three vamps back to back you realized you were barely winded and they'd put up a decent fight. "Damn Y/N that was impressive" Dean noted and you shrugged "I honestly don't know what that was. I mean I've been a hunter most of my life so my stamina is pretty good but it seems like I'm able to keep in step with you and Sam nowadays"

Sam's eyes flicked towards the necklace around your neck "Could it have something to do with the protection charms on that?" You tentatively touched the rose, you hadn't taken it off since the day you pulled it out of the drawer at the cabin. "Maybe?" You said with a light laugh "Leave it up to him to find a way to make me take care of myself rather he's here or not"

Dean shot you a small smile. You knew he missed Benny too even if they'd gotten distant before that day. Benny was one of the few friends Dean had made in his life that never judged him for any decision he ever made. Sam cleared his throat then smiled "He loved you. He wanted to make sure to protect you, makes sense. Wish I would've thought to do something like that for Jess"

Dean shook his head "Fuck, we're depressing. Get in baby, both of you. I'm buying the first round we all need it"

"Never knew there was a woman Winchester" Benny heard the chatter a few months after he'd been back in purgatory. Hearing chatter about Dean and Sam weren't anything unusual, them boys were a menace to monsters but hearing about what clearly had to be you pulled a smile to his face "I'm telling you man, she was damn near as fast as Dean and hard as hell to keep down. She's as sturdy as one of em"

A big part of him couldn't help but have a sense of pride at knowing you were building quite a name for yourself in purgatory, not to mention he had the peace of mind that if you were with Sam and Dean they would at least half ass make sure you were taking care of yourself.

He knew he'd probably never see you again, exit routes from purgatory were few and far between. He'd keep fighting regardless, he hadn't laid down and died the original fifty years he'd been in this place he wasn't about to now with memories of you fueling his mind.

Time never stood still for anyone and you were no exception. Rather you wanted it to or not the weeks turned to months then the months turned into years.

You ended up moving into the men of letters bunker somewhere along the line. Sam and Dean had offered you one of the many vacant bedrooms and you took it. You'd gotten used to hunting with them and you had to admit it was easier but it was a lot better hunting with people to have your back. You no longer pushed yourself to the point of exhaustion, Dean was ever the mother hen and Sam would taunt you into self care if it came to it.

----------

You missed Benny. You had meant what you told Dean all that time ago, you could've loved him. Had he told you, had he put that option on the table. If only he'd not waited until moments before he was ripped away to tell you he loved you. You had managed to recover the photo of him and Liz so it resided on your nightstand, along with a photo of your uncle and Bobby and one of you and the boys. You never left the bunker without wearing your necklace and rarely took it off for that matter.

There were times you could close your eyes and almost feel his touch, almost hear his voice but you knew it was just memories. Being haunted by a vampire was impossible, the worse part was knowing that if he was to be killed in purgatory you'd never know. He very well could've been dead before Sam made it topside.

--------

So much had occurred between that day and the present it felt longer than the three years that had passed. The trials were a failure, you nor Dean letting Sam finish the last one. You lost Benny to save Sam, you'd be damned if you were losing him and Dean of course wasn't letting his little brother go that easy.

Between angels falling, Dean taking the mark of Cain and killing a knight of hell only to end up a demon himself...you weren't sure you were even the same woman Benny had loved. There were days you looked in the mirror and barely recognized the eyes looking back at you. You'd never been what you would describe as gentle or naive but the years of hunting and losing so many people were starting to wear on you in moments.

----------

Jody and the girls were a saving grace. You loved Sam and Dean, they were family to you but Jody, Donna and the rest of the Sioux Falls crew helped to soothe a part of your soul that felt ragged.

With the last fight against Amara and Chuck had come to a draw you felt like you could finally catch your breath. You'd headed to spend the weekend with Claire and Alex when Sam had called while you were on the road saying Dean had disappeared.

---------

The worse thoughts went through your mind. Every possibility that flashed through your brain being worse than the last until he called you late that sunday night "Hey sweetheart. Um I'm working a case near Maine. Think you can head this way?"

You were a bit confused to say the least "Dean? Sam said you disappeared two days ago. Is everything ok?" He chuckled lightly "I promise I'm fine. Call Sam if you want, bring backup if you want but I really need you for this case" "You'll do the usual tests when I get there?" You asked hesitantly and could practically hear his grin "Of course. Now hit the road and get here"

"Send me the location and I'll be there as soon as I can but remember I don't drive like you"

Benny could feel the electricity in the air. Something big was about to land and he had no fucking clue what. Years had passed since he'd been back in purgatory, years of blood and fighting.

Maybe it was the most recent big bad you and the boys had took down or maybe something another hunter had killed even. He didn't think another set of hunters were capable of slicing down whatever was causing such a stir but there was always that possibility.

The moment a portal opened not far from him he thought he'd finally snapped, that his sanity had slipped away without him even realizing it. That was until the moment none other than Dean Winchester stepped out the portal. "How in the hell?" He muttered and saw a grin slip onto Dean's face "Not a lot of time to explain here but let's get you the hell outta here"

You pulled up to the location of the motel Dean had told you to meet him at. You parked next to the impala and before you could call he was walking out of the room and headed for your car. He flopped down in the passenger seat and pulled your vial of holy water you kept in the glove box out and took a swig before holding his hand out so you passed him the silver blade that always rode at your ankle. He slid it across his arm and a line of blood blossomed up.

"Satisfied?" You nodded so he smiled and passed the knife back "Then follow me. I need to get you up to speed" you eyed him as you climbed out your car because he was acting a bit off. You couldn't explain it but there was something going on and you knew it.

----------

You walked into the room behind Dean but clocked another presence before the door closed. You lunged for the figure before your mind could catch up with your actions and had it not been for the agility of the other body you probably would've plunged a blade into it.

Dean grabbed you, forcing the blade out of your hand as he held you back against his chest despite your struggles. You knew your eyes were wide and you probably looked nothing short of a wild animal at the moment with the way you were struggling against Dean but there was no way this was reality. There was no way your eyes weren't playing tricks on you, because Benny stood against the wall watching you carefully, bright blue eyes tracking your every movment.

"What the fuck is that Dean?" You struggled harder but Dean simply tightened his grip "Y/N! C'mon now like I'd put you in danger! Sweetheart, take a breath! It's him!"

--------

Your movements stopped suddenly and you felt every ounce of fight seep from your body as your eyes finally allowed themselves to roam over the figure standing a few feet away from you "How?" You asked in a whisper and Dean having realized you were no longer a threat released you "Amara owed me a favor and she couldn't bring back anyone from heaven so I used it for you"

You looked from Dean to Benny "It's really you?" He nodded slowly, that smile you always loved slipping onto his face "In the flesh darling" you took a step towards him before simply flinging yourself into his arms. He pulled you against his chest and you closed your eyes, waiting to wake up but when you opened your eyes you were still in his arms "I'm gonna go call Sam and check in then I'm going to the bar down the road. You kids catch up" Dean said before you heard the door shut.

It took you a moment to realize there was something different and when it hit you your eyes widened even further "You're human" he nodded "Amara let me keep the vampiric strength and stamina but yeah I'm human"

Every injury you, Dean or Sam had ever endured flash through your memory "What if you get hurt? Or sick? Please tell me you didn't choose it because of me, I loved you when you were a vampire I would've continued to love you as a vampire.." you were rambling and didn't even realize what you let slip until the smile that spread across Benny's face gave you a hint "You love me huh?"

-----------

You shoved his chest playfully "Of course I love you Benny. I've waited three years to tell you I love you. Hell,I thought I'd never get the chance!"

He chuckled lightly "It was worth the wait to hear it and just so you know I didn't choose to be a human just for you even if you were a big deciding feature. I can move onto heaven or hell when I die now, I can be a hunter or something to help people and I can have a future with the woman I love"

You pulled him down into a kiss and it was like no time had passed. The electricity that shot through you was just like every other time his lips met yours but this was something that you thought was just possible in a dream. When you pulled away to let both of you catch your breath he leaned his head over on your shoulder "Damn I've missed you woman" you laughed lightly "I've missed you too"

He leaned back to let his eyes meet yours and smiled again "You are so damn beautiful" you shook your head "Always the sweet talker aren't ya Lafitte?" He brushed his lips against yours in another kiss. This one wasn't as urgent but full emotion. You ran your hands up to hook around his neck, deepening the kiss.

His hands slipped down to your thighs, easily picking you up as your legs wrapped around his waist. He walked towards the bed , laying you down gently. You pulled him down with you but broke the kiss before it could get any more heated than it already was.

---------

"Wait..wait a second" the moment the words left your mouth Benny halted his actions pulling back to look at you. Was he moving too fast after so long?

"What's wrong Y/N?" He asked and when you grinned he could tell you were biting back a laugh "What if I hurt you now? I'm used to you having vampiric healing" he narrowed his eyes slightly then leaned down to kiss your neck and when he nipped your pulse point the whine that left you was enough to make pull a groan from his lips "I think I can handle you darlin"

He laughed as he pulled you closer. He was back with you in his arms and had a chance to have a life with you. How the hell he'd gotten that lucky he wasn't sure but he knew better than to question it.

@123passwort

[love-at-first-sight-23]

Evening ✧˖*°࿐

WARNING: Contains sexual/mature content and cursing. You have been warned.

——

It’s a tranquil evening in the summer and you and JJ are sitting on the couch, watching a movie.

Next to him, your mind can’t help but wander up to JJ’s bedroom, where the two of you could be together right now…

“You want me, don’t you?” You start as you notice JJ is grinning at you pointedly. Blushing in embarrassment, you realize you’ve been staring at him in hunger.

“I do, actually,” you say shyly, gazing into his gorgeous blue eyes. JJ gazes back tenderly before he smirks. 

“I knew it,” he says, turning off the TV. “Well, seeing as no one else is here at the moment shall we…?” He gestures up the stairs.

Throwing an arm around you, you walk upstairs together, where JJ opens the door for you to enter. Then he plops himself on the bed and pats the space next to him.

You sit next to him happily, reaching up to peck his lips. JJ places his mouth at the base of your neck and leaves a trail of kisses up to your chin. When he finishes he moves to your lips, gently at first and then slowly becoming more passionate.

His tongue travels into your mouth and moves against your own, making you moan softly. JJ’s hands travel up your skirt and massage your thighs, sending a shiver of electricity through you.

Your fingers move to his chest and begin to unbutton his shirt, while JJ takes off your blouse and skirt. His shorts and boxers are soon slid off as well, revealing his erect prick.

You’re left in just your lacy bra and underwear. Your boyfriend is quick to remove what is left on you. 

You stand in the middle of carpet, fully exposed. JJ stares at you.

“Is something wrong…?” you ask nervously.

JJ shakes his head. “No, no. It’s just that you’re so fucking beautiful.” Your cheeks warm at the compliment. You love how JJ always makes you feel like the sexiest girl alive.

You lay with each other on the bed, kissing and embracing. His skin feels soft and warm against your own. You swipe the tip of his cock with one hand, still holding his face with the other.

“Mmm,” JJ murmurs. You start rubbing his length, progressively moving back and forth more quickly. Sounds escape from JJ’s mouth. 

“Like that, baby?” you whisper.

“Y-yes,” JJ whines, losing more control as time goes on. He moves to brush his tip against your entrance, making you squirm. Then he plunges in suddenly and completely, making you gasp.

You feel yourself adjust to his size within the first thrusts, tightening around him as you moan his name. Thank god no one’s home, you think through the fog of haziness.

“A little… to the left…” you whimper. JJ obliges and your vision goes fuzzy as he hits your G-spot continuously.

JJ fucks you harder and faster, wanting every inch of you. You dig into his back for something to hold on to. “You feel… so good…” JJ gasps. Curses escape from his mouth and tears stream down his face.

“You’re doing great, buddy,” you encourage him as he nears his orgasm. “Fuck, you feel so good inside me…” You continue to talk him through his climax, despite the sweat pouring down your forehead.

JJ does the same for you as your own orgasm follows shortly after. You cry out as the wave of pain and pleasure hits you like a bullet.

JJ removes himself from you and collapses on the mattress, breath still coming in gasps. As your breathing collectively slows down, he reaches over into the side drawer and pulls out wipes to clean you both off. 

After you’re both cleaned up you allow yourself to fall asleep wrapped in his arms.

[dalliansss]

Hiiii <<333 would u tell us more about your thingol and finwe verse? U just made me discover this ship and I’m kinda into it even if Miriel for the win 🤍

Also just thought this would work for them ? ❛ i thought you said you never wanted to see me again. ❜

&. 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐬 (𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬?) 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

In truth, Elwë did what he did out of concern, prompted also by Fëanáro's concern that Finwë had been getting a bit too...wide in the girth these days. Not that Elwë can blame his husband; since arriving in Valinor, the Noldor king had indulged himself in many things, particularly in food, their hard life in Cuiviénen manifesting itself in this way, where Finwë will not, shall not and can not suffer anybody going hungry during his reign, particularly his descendants and his people -- and also, himself.

They had been busy, of course. Setting in Valinor, ordering the realms of the Eldar, choosing their leaders and their noble courts, exploring their new lands. Finwë, upon whom the burden of the leadership of the Noldor fell on, focused more on the administrative side of things, and so his physical activity fell to the wayside. And the food. Food in abundance, rich and sweets -- Finwë was just eager to eat them all. He soon developed habits of stashing snacks: in the cupboards and drawers, in his pockets, in baskets in the councilroom--

But lately, even a little horse riding made Finwë short of breath, and Elwë knew it was time for action. He had been introducing physical activity back into Finwë's days while only slowly reducing his food portions, but Finwë, ever emotional took offense and booted him out of their bedchambers. This despite Elwë explaining he does what he does keeping in mind Finwë's health, just to make sure his combat skills does not fall to the wayside.

Still, Elwë gets exiled. Oh well.

So he takes himself to his seaside house at Alqualondë, and there he busies himself with sailing and fishing every early morning, even before the Mingling of the Lights. He trusts Fëanáro to take up where he can't, and Finwë will find that more difficult, because Fëanáro does not compromise and imposes his discipline with a harder hand that Elwë does. There will be no coaxing from Fëanáro, that is certain. Do or don't.

Elwë has just finished his rounds selling off his catch at Alqualondë's famous seaside markets. He walks home, and is surprised to find Finwë already there, waiting for him, the Noldorin king dressed down to sleeveless tunics fit for the hotter climes of Alqualondë. Finwë sees him approaching, and he stands, beaming-- and then as if he remembers he is the one who exiled Elwë in the first place, his smile falls, and he wrings his bejeweled hands.

Elwë Singollo draws close and quirks an eyebrow as he hangs his fishing net by the rack. "Well? I thought you said you never wanted to see me again."

"You know I don't mean that!" Finwë cries out, anguished. He is the one to close the distance and throw his arms around Elwë in a hug. He whines. "Elwë-- my heart, song of my fëa, come home....please?"

Elwë lets out a long-suffering sigh, but he does wrap his arms around Finwë. Look at that. In years that seem so long ago, he could hug Finwë and feel his ribs. Nowadays, it's all fluff. It's not a bad thing, but Finwë needs to reteach his hröa how to keep moving. It is for his own good.

"Fëanáro got you good, huh?" Elwë snipes, sly. "Alright, how many laps does he make you do before he's satisfied?"

"Twenty every early morning," Finwë complains, pouting. "And I haven't even eaten my scrambled eggs yet! And no coffee yet! No orange juice! Ai, he's so mean, Elwë! And-- and he he also got Nolofinwë joining in! Two of them! They're horrible! Can't leave their old father alone..." Now he pretends to sniffle. Dramatic elf, this one.

"But you exiled me, remember?" Elwë points out.

"No!" Finwë cries out. "I take it back! Go home with me! I rather take the long walks with you and the horse riding with you! At least you let me have breaks and you let me relax and--! Elwë!" Finwë pouts. Lower lip quivering.

Elwë rolls his eyes with such a great, exasperated fondness. He bends to kiss the pout away. "Very well. I will go home with you. But I hope you know the walks and the spars and the horse riding won't stop, nor go away. Understood?"

"Yes, yes, yes. I love you, Elwë!" Finwë hugs into his hold again, happy now.

Elwë shakes his head. Ai, this elf...so silly. The silliest of the lot!

[winterwhisperz-blog]

hi hi!! hope you’re doing well :]

i was wondering if you could just do some general Mhin hcs? nothing in particular i just haven’t seen much written about them and bby needs some more love

thank you and have a wonderful day/night :]

YES OMG, tysm for this ask because I love Mhin so much—definitely think they deserve more attention—WHICH I SHALL DO MY BEST TO PROVIDE (also ty I hope you have a wonderful day/night too :D)

Again, hopefully these haven’t been done before—my memory sucks and I consume a lot of media so I might accidentally repeat stuff I’ve seen 💔

ALR LES GO

Warnings: None I think

General Mhin Headcanons

Plays the piano- OKAY HEAR ME OUT-

Imagine Mhin playing the piano, maybe because music helps them express their emotions better-maybe I’m just projecting but Mhin seems to have a harder time expressing how they feel through words(twins??) so they turn to music.

And maybe they also play music because it calms them down, and helps them stay grounded. Also it just paints such a pretty picture and I JUST LOVE IT SO MUCH

LIKE IMAGINE THEM PLAYING FOR U

Okay I’ll move on because I’ll probably become feral if I think about this too much

Ahem ahem

Had two pet cats—named Nyxia (meaning night sky EEEEEE) and Estella (star- or divine strength)

Like maybe they’ve always fed strays, and one time they even adopted two that followed them home.

One, probably Estella, was white and fluffy—and Nyxia was all black and silky.

Mhin is a cat parent, and now all cats flock to them

NOW SPEAKING OF STARS

Mhin LOVES STARS—and is interested in astrology

Before they became a hunter or before everything went downhill for them, it would’ve been rlly cute if Mhin was studying astrology and was RLLY getting into it

Like they’re such a nerd for the night sky and space and constellations and it’s SO CUTE because they’ll talk about this stuff for HOURS if people would let ‘em

I would let them 😇

Alr Alr Alr next one—

Unlike fellow Touchstarved LI—Mhin can cook.

Like they don’t usually have time to cook something extravagant—but when they do—Omg their meals are TOP TIER

They know how to spice things JUST right, and make the best desserts (though be careful—these are packed with sugar and sometimes are overly sweet)

They also cook special animal-safe food for the cats. Cute lil fish treats.

AWWWWWWWW

Okie this one is inspired by the Love Quiz thing and Mhin’s results.

Loves Spooky stories and exploring said spooky places—they have a weird love for the genre and ghost hunting too

They also come up with the best spooky stories and they tell them with the most deadpan expressions so no one ever knows if they’re true or not 💀

OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY SO

Definitely the type of person that would randomly hand you a pretty rock that reminded them of you. (Without saying it did- you just get a random rock and look at them like “Thanks? 😳” ) you return the favor by handing them random mushrooms and snails

They do this for anyone they like. Kuras has a nice little collection of rocks in a secret drawer

Though they love cats and cats love them— BIRDS, are another story

Birds and Mhin don’t get along (A slight hint at their monster form but also because CROWS KEEP STEALING THEIR PRETTY ROCKS)

Perfect person to explore with, THEY LOVE EXPLORING. And since they can slide into the shadows and waltz around without being detected most of the time—they know a LOT of places, and definitely more secret exits and entrances(they’ll show you them at some point)

EEEEEEEEEEE

ALR, WE ARE DONE

Tysm again for the ask !! Mhin is just— GAHHHHHH

I think they’re my second favorite LI, RLLY EXCITED FOR THEIR ROUTE OMG

They are just such a nerd but can also kick ur butt and I just think that’s cool.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed those! And have a wonderful day, listen to a playlist full of your favorite songs, do things that make you happy, and get a bunch of fun compliments! (When the Sun’s missing from the sky, flowers turn to you instead !! 🫶 hehe, there I helped with that one- OKAY BYE NOW LOVE U)

[icey--stars]

Born For Tragedy: Part 19

Series Index

She was tragedy. Nothing except death, fear and pain followed in her wake. When she was young, she was beaten. Now she’s the one doing the beating as an assassin. A mysterious stranger comes to her, paying an absurd amount of money for her to kill Beron Vanserra, and protect the eldest son until the job is done. She stumbles across a story much similar to her own, and knows what must be done.

WARNINGS: slight nsfw (its the morning after), somewhat graphic depictions of a dog birth also rhys is kinda an ass in this (does that count as a warning? idk, i see it more as “seeing the other side” from a previous hewn city citizen’s pov) AND NSFW content (SMUT) after the words “I am a deadly warrior,” She growled, shoving her face into his chest. “Fear me.” - there is a secondary warning farther down!

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

The next morning, they woke up to loud pounding on the door. Which, in all honesty, scared Valda shitless and sent her tumbling to the floor, barely dressed and going for her knives. Eris was even worse. He had leaped right off the bed and had fire crackling from fists as he marched toward the door angrily.

It was actually both very endearing and she wanted to kiss him again because holy fuck, he was hot, but also hilarious and wanting to make her break down in laughter at the same time.

Eris snapped his fingers after a moment, fully dressed. It looked a bit ruffled, but good enough for the High Lord of Autumn. He glanced at Valda.

Valda snorted and stepped out of view of the door as Eris swung it open and raised a flaming fist.

“What the fuck is the reason for bugging me and my mate this early in the fucking morning? Shall I take your head? Is that it?” Eris yelled.

The male on the other end let out a fearful squeaking noise and Valda put a hand to her lips to stop her laughter.

“Sir-” The male began. “It’s-”

“It’s what?” Eris snarled.

“T-Taunya, sir. She’s- She’s in labor right now,” the male stuttered.

The flame in Eris’s fist disappeared as he sighed.

“Next time, don’t you fucking dare bang on that door unless I have actually risen for the day, got it?”

“But-”

“If something is urgent, you get one of my brothers so I don’t burn your face off,” Eris growled. “Now go. My mate and I will come when we please.”

The male squeaked again and she heard hurried jogging down the hall. Valda finally let loose some of the laughter she’d been holding in.

Eris sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. “I swear, I’m going to burn his face off anyway.”

Valda laughed harder, putting a hand on her mate’s shoulder for support. “That’s-” she gasped for breath. “That’s the funniest shit I’ve seen in a while.”

Eris rolled his eyes, grinning. “Alright, calm down my love. I do actually want to go see Taunya.”

“Oh, for sure,” Valda said, walking to the closet. “Give me a moment.”

When she leaned down to get into a drawer for socks, she felt Eris slid a hand from the small of her back down.

She turned to flash an amused look at Eris as he lightly groped her ass. He smirked. “What? You expect me to think clearly and resist this beautiful ass of yours?”

Valda sighed and chuckled softly before taking off Eris’s shirt and then sliding her clothing on– still black.

However, Eris chucked her a sweater of his when she came out wearing a tight, short-sleeved black t-shirt. “It’s cold out,” he said in explanation.

She sighed, rolling her eyes and then put the sweater on.

“I won’t freeze,” she said, moving toward her boots.

“Oh yes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you uncomfortable,” Eris replied. “Plus, I know you’ll complain.”

“I would not,” she protested. Eris tilted his head and raised a brow. Valda sighed. “Fine, maybe. But seriously, this place is at least warmer than the Winter Court.”

Eris’s eyes flashed with anger for a moment before he sighed and released it. “This is bad timing, Taunya,” he growled, mostly to himself.

Valda hummed, sliding her boots on and tightening them sufficiently. “Why’s that?” She questioned.

“Because of the stupid mating frenzy,” Eris admitted. “And honestly, if any male or female looks at you a certain way, I think I might take off their head.”

Valda’s thoughts took a turn and she thought of how she might react to something similar and felt rage and lust burning under her skin within seconds.

She sighed. “We’ll try not to take off anyone’s head or mist anyone to a bloody mist,” she said.

Eris gave a little half-chuckle as she walked over, offering him her hand. “And I suppose we’ll try not to scandalize your entire court as well.”

“Shall we winnow?” He offered. She nodded and then they were whisked away to the kennels within seconds.

There were three other individuals in the kennels in addition to the dogs. Kuhn Vanserra and then two servants.

Kuhn turned to glance at Eris and then his nose wrinkled. “Cauldron, remind me not to bother you in the mornings,” he grunted, turning back to Taunya who was laying in a pile of comfortable looking blankets with… 1 puppy already suckling. Nimbus, the male and father, looked stressed and was sitting next to Taunya’s head, whining softly.

Valda went to lean against the wooden walls of the kennel, watching from afar. Eris leaned down beside Nimbus, petting the male ghost hound gently and then Taunya.

“Hey girl,” he said gently. Taunya whined, moving her head straight into Eris’s lap. “You weren’t due for another two weeks,” he continued. “Didn’t wanna wait on these pups, did you?”

Nimbus whined, nudging at Eris’s elbow with his nose. The dogs seemed to take great comfort from Eris being there, which was adorable. They seemed calmer than before.

One of the female servants cast a gaze over to the High Lord and Valda tensed, biting her lip on a snarl.

Kuhn stood, moving away and toward Valda as Eris took over his job of petting the poor laboring female.

Eris’s gaze snapped up and he seemed to scowl at Kuhn.

Kuhn glanced between them before understanding dawned on his face and he moved to the other side of the kennels, still watching, but not near Valda anymore.

Cauldron, the pair of them, Valda thought with a chuckle. The Forest House was about to be set on edge.

“Is the pup healthy?” Eris asked, looking down at the one suckling on its momma.

“He is,” a servant answered. “We’ve got another one coming very soon.”

Eris nodded, looking down at the pup and then at Taunya who tensed suddenly.

“There’s the head!” One cried.

And another puppy slid out, covered in a bloody and clear looking mess.

Taunya sat up with a groan and immediately began licking the puppy clean. The pup whimpered and everyone in the room let out a sigh of relief. Valda didn’t know much about dog births, but she did know that them making any sort of sound was a good sign. The same was for fae– crying was a good sign.

Taunya pulled the pup to her belly before huffing and laying back down again. Eris gently checked the gender by taking a hold of the rump and head and turning it over before gently guiding it to nurse. 

“A female,” he noted aloud to everyone. “Good girl,” Eris praised the ghost hound. “How many more?”

“Just one sir,” one of the servants answered.

It was a while before the third pup finally made an entrance. At first, the pup appeared to not be breathing but Taunya kept furiously licking at the pup. One of the servants pushed her away, but the mother growled and continued.

Eris was allowed to gently take the pup into his hands and then let out a sigh of relief. “She’s breathing,” he told everyone. “Just a quiet one. Go ahead, Taun,” he told his hound.

Taunya licked Eris’s fingers for a moment before moving back to her puppy.

The servants did a few more checks, double-checking on making sure there were no more pups and then giving Taunya a little protein snack before leaving. Almost not soon enough for Valda’s nerves as they kept getting too close to her mate that she felt like leaping the wall and pulling them away forcefully.

Kuhn leaned down beside the dogs, smiling. “What are you going to name them, brother?”

Eris hummed. “Two females, one male,” he mused, glancing at Valda. “I have names in mind.”

“Well?” Kuhn prompted.

“Bane, for the male. Zelda for the eldest female and then Tempus for the quiet one,” Eris said.

Valda instantly recognized those names. The two female names had been ones that she’d told Eris.

She sent a little smile toward Eris who grinned back.

“Those are good names,” Kuhn said. He put a hand on Eris’s shoulder and stood.

Valda snarled, her resolve to not break gone.

Kuhn immediately removed his hand from Eris’s shoulder, standing and putting placating hands up toward her. “Sorry,” he said. “Forgot already. I’d rather not be killed-”

Valda sighed, walking around the wooden wall to stand beside Eris. “I won’t kill you, but I think it’s time for you to go.”

Kuhn dipped his head. “Yes, Lady Valda.”

Eris turned sharply and called after Kuhn. “She might just be High Lady one day, brother.”

Kuhn laughed. “Then I shall call her High Lady Valda… Vanserra?” He said hesitantly.

Valda remained frozen as Kuhn made her way out.

Eris slid a slightly sticky hand into hers and pulled her down and kissed her gently. “You don’t have to do anything,” he assured her. “It was just an idea. I just like messing with him.”

Valda nodded, smiling as she kneeled beside him. “Would you ever want to get married?” She asked hesitantly.

Eris hummed. “Only if you wished for it, mate. Though, I doubt you would want Vanserra as your last name.”

Valda hummed. “Why’s that?” She asked.

“Didn’t you kill my father?” Eris teased, poking her with a smile.

Valda huffed, rolling her eyes. “Yes, but why would that stop me? It’s your last name.”

“What about yours?” Eris questioned.

“Callahan has no value,” she answered. “It’s just a poor mining family in the Night Court. Honestly, the only reason I keep it is just to see if anyone is smart enough to actually track me down. And so my dear brother might still learn of my wonderful achievements.”

“Is he even still alive?” Eris questioned.

Valda nodded. “According to the fact that my tattoo hasn’t disappeared, yes.”

Eris hummed. “Hm, maybe if I visit Hewn City again I’ll see if I can meet him.”

Valda rolled her eyes. “You want to murder him, don’t you?”

“Well, who wouldn’t?” Eris asked. “Honestly.”

Valda scoffed, chuckling. “I’ll let you meet him as long as I get to spit in his face first. Maybe my mother’s as well.”

“Anything you wish, love,” Eris answered.

She hummed, testing the name on her tongue. “Valda Vanserra, High Lady of the Autumn Court.” Then she chuckled. “That sounds hilarious. And I have a feeling Rhysand would be extra terrified of the Night Court with a fae from his own court here.”

“Oh, completely,” Eris agreed. “He’s still demanding who the hell you were. Apparently, his dear shadowsinger can only find so many clues and not enough. By the way, did you ever manage to get paid for killing my father?”

Valda laughed. “I did. The male didn’t even protest, just handed over the gold like it was nothing. Weird ass male though.”

“How so?”

“I mean, it was an Illyrian,” she mused. “Paying for the assassination of a lord of the Autumn Court. It sounds so weird. And even weirder, the male seemed to be covered in weird ass darkness. Like he was a bastard with some High Fae powers, you know? However, he didn’t have any siphons I could see, so maybe it was just that.”

Eris’s brows furrowed and then he froze. “Holy fuck, that bastard,” he growled.

“What?”

“There are only two fae with Illyrian wings with that sort of darkness,” Eris explained. “And you know of both.”

Valda tilted her head, looking toward the ceiling for a moment. Then her jaw dropped. “Holy fuck, the Night Court paid me to kill Beron?! What the absolute-”

Eris growled to himself. “Seems it's time I have some words with Rhysand.”

“I’m coming,” Valda said sternly. For multiple reasons. First, she was not leaving her mate to Rhysand’s fury. Second, she wanted to hear why the hell she was hired by the Night Court from his mouth herself. Honestly though, why the fuck did they pay her to kill Beron?

“You don’t-”

“I’m coming,” Valda repeated. “I want to see their faces myself.”

Eris chuckled. “Very well, love. I will set up a meeting once I feel like not yanking you under the sheets and killing every male in a fifty mile radius.”

Valda felt heat in her core set alight.

——

It was nearly two weeks before the constant lusting seemed to end. Valda didn’t even think it was possible for lust to last that long. They split their time between the bedroom and Taunya. The council tried once to bug Eris about coming to a meeting, but Eris declined and said he would deign when to come to a meeting without any hesitation. Their faces were… indescribable. It was hilarious.

Taunya was doing adorably with her new puppies. Each one of them already had custom collars made, despite not wearing them because they were so young and barely able to even sit up.

However, Eris had decided it was time to get to the bottom of Rhysand’s infatuation with the Autumn Court’s business and planned a visit to Hewn City.

Valda prepared herself for every scenario possible, planning to go in armed to the teeth.

“Ready?” Eris asked, making sure his sleeves were straight one last time before offering his hand.

Valda took it with a little grin. “I’m ready,” she said.

Eris turned back to face forward, but cast a small glance at her. Assuring. Comfort and love flooded the golden bond between them and then she felt the familiar whirr of winnowing.

They landed on a marble floor and Valda let loose some of the darkness that lived within her, glancing at Eris whose eyes were ablaze with amber fire. He wore a crown on top of his auburn hair while she’d taken to simply become a complete walking weaponry.

They were right outside of the ballroom. She knew this place and took a deep, calming breath, letting the feeling of the bond within her lead her forward with Eris into the open space.

On top of the dais, there were two thrones. One with a male and the second with a female. There were two winged brutes standing as guards on the third step of the dais, and a golden-haired High Fae female on the first step.

Valda tried not to shake as the male on the throne turned his gaze on them. The violet eyes made the flight instinct within her very, very loud.

“Rhysand,” Eris began, walking confidently into the room. Valda walked at his side, her hand in his. She let his hand center her and raised her chin higher.

“Eris,” Rhysand said, leaning back into the throne. The picture of a male at ease. “To what do I owe the visit?” Cauldron, that voice.

“You know why,” Eris said, his voice taking a deeper, more lethal tone. “And I expect answers.”

She glanced over to the brute Illyrians, fixing them both with a glare. The bigger of the two, with bright red siphons that were glowing, she knew was the General. Cassian, to be exact. The other, with blue siphons and had shadows swirling around him was the Spymaster. Azriel.

The females– Morrigan, and the High Lady, Feyre Cursebreaker.

Rhysand fixed Eris with a bored look. “Oh really,” the male mused. “Answers for what, I could ask? And perhaps why you are bringing that High Fae of yours into my domain.”

Valda finally fixed her gaze on the High Lord and took a deep breath, settling the fear in her gut. Gods, the things this male had caused for her. The things he’d done…

She spoke confidently and clearly as she glared right at Rhysand. “Valda Callahan,” she said. “Of course, you might know me as the Shadow. If you’ve done your homework, then you know what I am capable of.”

Rhysand tilted his head curiously. “That might explain a few things,” he mused. “And explain the rumors I’ve been hearing from the Autumn Court.”

“What have you heard?” Eris asked, his tone bored.

“Oh, this and that,” Rhysand toed around the point. “The most interesting news has got to be that you’ve fallen deeply in love with the assassin of your father.”

Valda smirked. “Does it scare you, Rhysand?” She asked. “That Eris has someone so powerful at his side?”

Rhysand turned his gaze on her, and then down toward her feet where her darkness obscured some of her feet. “Not in the slightest,” the High Lord answered. “Your power is easily understood and conquered, as it is my own.”

Eris tensed, his hand squeezing hers tighter. “Conquered?” He repeated.

“Oh dear, it seems I’ve upset the High Lord of Autumn again,” Rhysand said, turning towards Feyre. “Whatever shall I do?”

Valda felt like she was buzzing with leashed fury. “You will do well to respect him,” she growled. “And me. I’m sure you’re familiar with the effects of the mate bond? Hmm?”

Eris seemed to relax as Valda gained some of the upper hand again.

“Either way,” Valda continued, not letting Rhysand reply even as the male’s jaw opened to do so, “This is not the topic of our meeting. The topic of our meeting is why the fuck you decided to hire my services to kill Beron Vanserra. After all, there are only so many Illyrian males with money, and the darkness of the Night Court.”

Rhysand froze, the fae stillness settling on his features like ice.

Eris gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “It does beg the question, Rhys, on why you decided you had so much power over the Autumn Court.”

Rhysand sat up slowly and then stood. Azriel immediately walked toward the dais as the High Lord began to descend.

Valda tensed, resisting the temptation to bite her lip nervously.

Rhysand paused three feet before them and looked Valda up and down. “Perhaps I underestimated you,” he mused. “Perhaps the Shadow isn’t all knives and has some brains after all.”

And that comment must’ve snapped Eris’s impulse control as her mate snarled aggressively and flames appeared in the hand that wasn’t currently holding her hand.

Azriel drew a dagger from his side. Valda fixed him with a glare. “If you draw a dagger, shadowsinger, then you will be the cause of the fight that will occur.”

Azriel glared at Valda, his shadows behaving oddly as they raised up on his shoulders like asps preparing to strike. However, his hand paused where it drew a dagger from his thigh. She put her free hand on the handle of her sword at her hip.

“You were hesitant to act, Eris,” Rhysand finally began. “So slow, so careful… or perhaps afraid? Of what your father could do. So I took it into my own hands.”

Valda bit the inside of her lip roughly at the comment on Eris being afraid. Her mate had faced more at Beron’s hands than Rhysand could ever imagine.

“You had no right to do that,” Eris said. “The Autumn Court is not in your filthy hands.”

Rhysand tilted his head and then smirked a little. “Isn’t it?”

Valda drew in a sharp breath, inaudible, but she felt like pouncing right then, or sprinting as far as fucking possible.

Eris was unwavering though and grabbed her tighter before replying. “It is not,” he growled. “The Autumn Court is not under your control, Rhysand. It never will be. You have no control, despite what you think.”

She felt mental claws suddenly slither along hers and she sucked in a breath and fortified her mind, closing her eyes for a split moment. She had not practiced her mental walls very much, but she’d learned them young, while living in Hewn City. The claws seemed to scrape along the walls before drawing away.

When she opened her eyes, she glared at Rhysand. “You dare to try and enter my mind, Rhysand?” She asked, growling. Valda gathered her magic, letting the feeling of it sit heavy in the air. “Do you think I am weak? Do not forget that I successfully killed a High Lord alone. What could I possibly do with the most powerful High Lord that Autumn Court has ever seen at my side as my mate?”

“Are you threatening me?” Rhysand asked.

“Do you want me to threaten you? I will protect my mate with my life, and through that, my court. If you dare to think the Autumn Court a puppet you can control, then you are sorely mistaken, Rhysand. I was raised in this nightmare. This Court of Nightmares. I know you, High Lord. I know how you work. I know how fucking cruel and weak you can be.”

Rhysand’s power rose to muffle my own and I tried to not take a step back, forcing my legs to be stone. “You think this is weak?” Rhysand growled. “I could shatter your mind without even a thought.”

Valda merely smirked. She’d gotten him riled up now. “You are incapable of controlling your own people, what else am I to think? They fear you, they do not respect you. The Autumn Court has achieved more change than you have in centuries.”

Eris seemed to be pleased as he watched her, though the bond still flickered with anger.

“Does this assassin speak for you, Eris?” Rhysand finally said. “Better find a leash soon.”

Eris abruptly heated, the feeling of it filling the air, but the heat never touched her. “I’d be careful, Rhysand. That assassin is set to be High Lady of the Autumn Court.”

Rhysand’s gaze flicked from Eris back to her and she merely smirked. “Does this get under your skin?” She asked.

Azriel seemed to snap beside his High Lord and suddenly lunged forward, dagger drawn toward her. “You will not speak to my High Lord in such a way.”

Valda glanced down at the dagger in his hands, held inches from her throat. “Did you think that would scare me? I’ve killed the most powerful assassins on Prythian. I’ve had a knife held to my throat before.”

Eris growled. “Put the fucking knife down,” he snarled, a flame appearing in his hand and then jumping out of his palm to be held near the dagger. Valda couldn’t even feel the heat. Eris was exceptional when controlling that power, she’d learned. She should’ve known that from when it didn’t burn her after he came to power, but alas, it took a bit more convincing. But she no longer feared his fire in any way. However, Azriel did seem to.

The male pulled the dagger back by a fraction.

She glanced at his hands. She knew a little about the scars of the shadowsinger. Burn scars. She knew it was a dirty move to use someone’s trauma against them, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bit of satisfaction in the way the male seemed to be apprehensive.

“I said put it down,” Eris growled.

Azriel reluctantly lowered his hand. The fire dissipated as well.

“You must think yourself above me or something,” Eris growled, glaring at Rhysand. “You dare to try and manipulate my court, and threaten my mate, even try to enter her mind, and hold a dagger to her throat? Do you think I am weak? The Autumn Court is not under your control and will not be manipulated in such a way ever again.”

“Technically, it was Azriel who held a dagger to her throat-”

Eris cut the pretentious fuck off, “Bull fucking shit.”

Rhysand glared at Eris before seeming to gather himself and rolling his shoulders back, picking off an invisible piece of lint. “Very well. You’ve proved your point. Congratulations.”

Well, if that wasn’t sarcastic, then Valda never once managed in her life to be sarcastic.

Valda rubbed her eyes with her forefinger and thumb. “You really are as bad as I remember,” she muttered.

“What do you mean by that?” Rhysand questioned.

“You’re a pretentious motherfucker with no regard for anyone else but yourself and your family. This court under this mountain doesn’t matter to you, does it?”

Rhysand narrowed his eyes. “What do you know of my court?”

Eris squeezed her hand.

“You wouldn’t remember, considering all that has happened since but you do not care for the wellbeing of the citizens here. Not at all. My father was executed needlessly, and so was the lord who killed him. I don’t care for either of them, but I know quite a bit about how this court works just by sneaking into this room for a day.”

“What were you doing in here?”

Valda’s lips tightened. “You don’t need to know the specifics,” she answered. “I am not under this mountain anymore. Though, I suppose some of my family might still be.”

“Ah,” Rhysand chuckled. “Yes, your brother is. As is your mother.”

“I see you’ve done your research at last,” Valda mused.

“You seem quite uncaring of the fact I know who they are.”

“I have no care for the people who abused me,” she answered emotionlessly.

Eris squeezed her hand comfortingly. She felt that assurance flooded through her and gave her more confidence.

“What sort of abuse?” Rhysand asked, tilting his head slightly.

“You have no business knowing that,” Valda retorted.

Rhysand smirked a little and hummed. “What a fiery female you’ve chosen, Eris.”

Feyre Cursebreaker stood from her throne and walked down. I eyed her carefully, but I did not know this female. All I knew was rumors and stories from Under the Mountain. Supposedly, she was intelligent and powerful. Enough to break the curse, collapse the Spring Court from within and even use powers from all the courts. Absolutely terrifying, but of course, I was also quite terrifying.

She met my gaze briefly before glancing at Eris. I tensed, but waited for her to speak.

“Eris,” she began, speaking clearly, but not too loudly. Eris seemed apprehensive, but waited patiently. Feyre continued, “Yes, we did hire an assassin to kill your father, and how wonderful that it succeeded. Our methods were not the best, but in your hesitance to act, we decided we were done waiting. Our goal was to kill Beron. Now that the Autumn Court is ruled by someone we are more… familiar with, and is less likely to help anyone rule the world, we are perfectly happy with allowing the Autumn Court to be as they are. We did not control you, we did not mean to exude the fact that we control Autumn, but I can see how it may seem that way.

“Valda, yes, we did hire you as the Shadow. However, you seem to be taking on a role that is not the assassin we knew you as, so I do dearly hope we can move forward.”

A moment of silence went by. Valda considered Feyre’s words. She certainly was convincing.

Rhysand curled an arm around Feyre and put a hand on her hip. Possessive fae males, she thought.

“Don’t try to pull the strings again,” Eris said sternly. “And perhaps we can move forward.”

Valda yielded to her mate’s decision. She wouldn’t have cared either way. It would be best to move forward, but the Night Court must also not think that Autumn is weak in any way.

Feyre gave an odd smile. The smile both seemed real and fake at the same time and made Valda think that she expected that answer. Confident, Valda thought.

“Now, let’s all stop threatening each other, shall we?” Feyre asked. “Perhaps a drink?”

Eris glanced over at Valda and she dipped her head.

The drink surprisingly… went well. The threatening went away with the problem mostly squared away. However, I did notice that Azriel kept a very close eye on me. Eris glared at him quite a lot for it. Despite the room being extremely tense, once Eris and Valda winnowed home, it seemed that the meeting had been mostly a success. Autumn Court had shone their strength.

“Val?” Eris asked hesitantly into the dark when they lay in bed.

“Yeah?” She asked groggily, looking up toward Eris’s chin where she was settled. He looked down and smiled slightly.

“Would you-”

“Spit it out,” she groaned. “I’m tired.”

“Would you ever become High Lady?”

Valda grumbled for a few seconds before sighing. “I mean, probably. If you think that’s a good idea. We’d probably have to get married for that to happen.”

Eris hummed in acknowledgement. “We would,” he agreed. “But only if you want to.”

“I want to.” Valda yawned. “But not tonight. I’m tired.”

Eris chuckled, amused. “You’re adorable,” he mused.

“I am a deadly warrior,” She growled, shoving her face into his chest. “Fear me.”

~ REMINDER: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD, 18+, MINORS GO AWAY ~

Eris laughed and his chest jumped. Valda grumbled, pressing him onto his back so she could lay mostly on top of him and force him to stop. The movement seemed to have a different effect on Eris, however.

She chuckled as he hardened against her thigh. “You seem to enjoy me on top of you too much,” she muttered.

Eris paused, sliding his arms up her back teasingly. “You can’t act as if you don’t love it.”

Valda grinned, lifting her chin and scooting forward to near Eris’s lips. “I do,” she agreed and kissed him gently.

He brought one hand up to cradle the back of her head, pressing his lips to her. This kiss was gentle, edged with need. She felt arousal sliding down her spine and she groaned, reaching for the bottom of Eris’s shirt.

“Cauldron, I can’t resist you,” she muttered and moved her lips down his jaw, lingering by his ear, causing a little whimper to escape her mate. She grinned, and kissed her way down his neck before settling on a spot that would show above even the highest of collars. She nipped the spot and sucked gently.

Eris seemed all too happy to let her mark him.

When she pulled away, she grinned as she examined her mark. A nice red bruise was there. “You’re mine,” she muttered.

Eris gripped her hip with his other hand.

“You need something?” Valda asked, smirking down at him.

“Please, for the love of the gods, fuck me,” Eris begged.

Valda chuckled and slid his shirt up over his head, and helped him get his sweatpants and boxers off before taking off her own pajamas, groaning as she felt Eris grope her ass.

“Needy,” she noted and leaned down to kiss Eris again.

She reached down with a free hand and angled him to slip inside of her. She let out a muffled moan at the same time as him, curling one hand into his hair and the other along his neck, just resting.

“You feel so good,” Eris muttered.

This dark, loving sex felt amazing, Valda thought.

She grinded her hips against him slowly, lazily even. “I fucking love you,” she groaned.

Eris wrapped both arms around her, hugging her close. “I love you more.”

“Debatable,” she chuckled.

Eris thrust his hips upward in retaliation. Valda gasped, pressing her forehead to Eris’s. “Fuck,” she groaned. “So good.”

Eris continued the movement and they grinded against each other, moaning and saying dirty praises aloud.

Valda felt herself building rather quickly. “Close,” she muttered, kissing Eris again.

Eris renewed his efforts. When they broke away, Eris spoke roughly. “Come for me.”

She moaned, feeling herself crest over the edge of that sweet pleasure. Eris followed, heat exploding within her.

The pleasure felt endless and when it finally faded, they were both panting and relaxing lazily into the sheets and each other.

A brief thought occurred to her and she opened her eyes, letting Eris slip out of her with a little wince.

“I should probably take a tonic,” Valda muttered, rolling to Eris’s side so she could curl up into his side.

Eris seemed to be silent for a few moments before asking, “What do you think about children?”

Valda yawned. “Maybe one day,” she managed to say. “But not now. Being a mother is hell. My little alias about being a nanny wasn’t a complete lie. The young assassins needed some babysitters. Toddlers are absolutely horrible to deal with.”

Eris chuckled, running a hand through her hair gently. “I don’t think I’d be a good father without researching quite a bit.”

“Why’s that?” Valda asked curiously.

“I didn’t really really have the best role model, did I?”

“That’s fair,” Valda chuckled. “I didn’t have a good one either.”

“The pair of us,” Eris joked. “Somehow trying to become better than our parents.”

“It’s hard,” Valda chuckled, shifting so her hand rested on top of Eris’s chest, right where she could feel his heartbeat. “I mean honestly, how does parenting even work?”

Eris huffed a little laugh. “We’ll figure it out if we want it,” he said, turning to kiss her forehead gently. “For now, we try.”

“We try,” Valda agreed and snuggled closer to sleep.

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

For those listening- I'm gonna be real with you. I don't have pt. 20 written AT ALL and its smut, which takes a particular mood for me to write it. so, just saying this now so its out there: pt 20 may not be on time, i apologize. life is busy atm and writing takes energy lol

TAGLIST (see post for getting added)

@bunnymallowo, @officiallyunofficialperson, @margssstuff, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @graciereads, @eos-princess, @imma-too-many-fandoms, @mali22, @sassybluebird, @bubybubsters,

[justerithings]

You Have Similarities with Prey, Chapter 2

Read it on Ao3

Summary: The day after Bernadetta and Petra's intimate encounter, Petra is sent off on a mission for the Emperor. When she comes back, she is much worse for wear, but no less desiring of Bernadetta's submission.

Author's Note: I wrote some Fire Emblem: Three Houses fanfiction back in December 2019 and it's honestly been rattling around in my head ever since then. A few days ago I was struck with an undeniable urge to write and here's the result.

Word Count: 3,819 (7,009 including Chapter 1)

Warnings: This is smut. Filthy BDSM smut actually. If you don't wanna see that from me that's perfectly okay! More specific warnings below the cut.

Specific Warnings/Kinks: Spanking, collaring, primal, heavy BDSM, cum play, foot fetish, oral sex/cunnilingus, anal fingering, masturbation

~~~

Bernadetta awoke to the early morning sun shining through her window and the sound of rustling fabrics from near her dresser. As she wearily willed her eyes open she noted Petra, her queen, was no longer in bed beside her. She rolled over and pulled the covers up to her chin.

“Pet- er, my queen?”

The heir to Brigid’s throne stood across the room, carefully sorting through Bernie’s clothing in the small wooden dresser. She delicately pulled a pair of simple pink cotton panties with embroidered hearts from the top drawer and smiled softly.

“Ah, my pet, you are sleeping longer than I was imagining.” She folded and replaced the pink panties in the drawer and continued her search.

“I slept v-very well, my queen. I haven’t slept that well in years.” Bernie smiled as she curled up under the blankets. And it was true. While her ass was still sore from last night’s spanking, the sense of relief that came from it was the perfect medicine for a good night’s sleep. The warmth of Petra’s tightly muscled body pressed up against her certainly didn’t hurt.

Petra giggled softly and pulled a black, lacy thong from Bernie’s underwear drawer.

“Now this pair is sticking out to me. It is much unlike your other small clothes.”

Bernie’s face turned bright red.

“Eep! Those were a, um, a present, from Hilda. Back when we were students. She thought it would make me more confident. But I’ve never worn them.”

“You shall be wearing them today. As well as this, and this, and this.”

With that, Petra laid out Bernie’s outfit for the day: a simple maroon sundress and thigh high tights, with a black bra to match the black thong. It was a modest outfit, one Bernie might have picked for herself. Apart from the smallclothes. She blushed in mild embarrassment.

“Um, y-yes, my queen.”

Petra crossed the room in a single smooth motion. She tilted up Bernie’s chin with a single finger. “And do not be forgetting the… accessory, I gave you last night.”

Bernie blushed harder. As she gulped, she felt the pull of the leather against her neck. The o-ring collar hadn’t left her neck since Petra put it on her. And she didn’t particularly want it to.

“W-will other people know what it means?”

“It is not seeming likely. And anyone who does have such knowledge will be keeping it to themselves, I think.”

Bernie nodded, embarrassment easing somewhat. She could live with that. Would someone finding out be mortifying? Certainly. But if the only people who knew would be the ones involved in the same kind of thing? That, Bernie could live with.

“Get dressed,” Petra said in a tone that was both demanding and kind, “We will be eating breakfast together and then attending the Emperor’s war council.”

“Y-yes, my queen”

~~~

The morning preceded much as Petra had planned. Marianne had prepared delicious sweet buns that, on any other day, Bernie would have carefully squirreled away to her room and devoured. But today the combination of being forced to eat in the mess hall and the pain in her backside left her with little appetite. Bernie could have sworn she noticed Shamir, the Dagdan mercenary and her fellow archer, staring at her. Bernie did her best to be invisible and ignore it. Did she know?

The war council was similarly uneventful. Hubert, the marquis of Vestra and the Emperor’s closest confidant, detailed the movement of resistance fighters from Farghus. A plan was hatched to drive them back, battalions were assigned, and notices to prepare for a march were sent out to the garrisons. Thankfully, Bernie’s archery skills weren’t needed for this fight. Too many magic users among the enemy, and not a flying unit to be seen. Petra, however, was ordered to lead their Pegasus Knights. At the end of the council, Petra clasped Bernie’s shoulder firmly and whispered “I will be seeing you later,” before quickly departing.

“Bernadetta. A word.” 

Shamir’s cold, expressionless tone cut through Bernie like a stiff wind. The Dagdan sniper was only a few centimeters taller than Bernie, but her stiff upright posture made her seem incredibly imposing. She cornered Bernie in the far corner of the council room as everyone was leaving.

“No archers needed today. Come train with me.”

“Oh! Shamir! N-nice to see you. I’d love to train with you but I was planning on-“

“Noon, in the training ground. Bring your bow.”

Before Bernie had a chance to respond, Shamir had already turned and began to walk away. Bernie buried her face in the sleeves of her dress to hide their rapid reddening.

“Stupid Bernie, you should have known you’d get in trouble for this somehow.”

~~~

The training ground was eerily quiet for midday. With many of Emperor Edelgard’s forces out on assignment or preparing to mobilize, only Shamir was present, adjusting her bow in the center of the room. Bernie had thought about not coming. However, in her experience, not coming when summoned just resulted in people insistently knocking at her bedroom door.

“Pick a target.” 

Bernie jumped and nearly dropped her bow. Of course Shamir would have heard her come in. Shamir somehow hears and sees everything. Bernie gripped her bow and stepped forward into the yard, picking the target beside Shamir’s.

“That’s a handsome necklace. I haven’t seen you wear it before.” Shamir fired an arrow into the direct center of the target, never taking her eye off the bullseye.

Bernie squeaked. “Oh um, thank you. It was a gift.”

“From?”

Bernie considered her options. She could lie, but Shamir would notice her nervous shaking and see through her immediately. She could tell a half-truth, that it was from a friend, but she didn’t think Shamir would accept that as an answer. She decided honesty was the best policy.

“P-Petra gave it to me.” Bernie drew her bow, lined up a shot, and fired. The arrow struck just left of center.

“Hmm. I should have guessed.” Shamir fired another arrow, placing it mere millimeters from the previous shot.

“G-guessed what?” Bernie swallowed nervously.

“Don’t play dumb. Dagda and Brigid have been allies, on and off, for centuries. There’s considerable cultural crossover. I know a collar when I see one.”

Bernie squeaked and her second arrow bounced off the wall beside the target. She started sweating and blushed, fumbling for her next arrow.

“Don’t lose your cool. I don’t care what you or our Brigidian princess do in your free time. But these sort of… loyalties… can be a distraction. If Petra and the Emperor were both endangered in the field, who would you choose to save?”

Bernadetta gulped and thought for a moment. “T-The Emperor and her vision for Fódlan are paramount.”

“Good answer.” Shamir fired another bullseye effortlessly. “Be her little slave, for all I care, but do not make me question your loyalties. Understood?”

“U-understood.”

Shamir collected her arrows and slung her bow on her back, leaving without another word.

~~~

A week passed. Bernie kept mostly to herself. She took her meals in her room, as usual. She used the training ground in the dead of night, as usual. Any time she was wasn’t a required presence, she spent in her room, as usual.

She was worried about Petra. The site of the battle was under one hundred kilometers from the monastery. Even moving at the slowest speed of the foot soldiers, it was a three day march. Battles between the Empire’s forces and the various enemy factions across Fódlan rarely took more than a day. Following that logic, Petra would be back any minute. 

Bernie wasn’t expecting any communication from the front. The area of the battle had been treacherous for messengers, and she knew Petra wouldn’t risk a life simply to send a letter. Still, she ached for her queen’s return. The image of Petra delicately stroking Bernie’s cock was like a bug bite: feasible to ignore when one was busy, but impossible in the late hours when distractions were fewer. 

Such was the state of her mind that evening. She had locked the door, changed into her pajamas, and crawled into bed the second no one had need of her. Though she seldom touched herself, Bernie couldn’t help, in her longing, sliding a hand up her silky lilac nightdress.

She imagined her hand was Petra’s as she began to slowly stroke herself. Her mind flitted briefly to being bent over Petra’s knee, and her cock throbbed harder. Did she want to be spanked again? It was painful, sure, but it relieved her anxiety in a way nothing ever had. While her mind may have been confused, it seemed her cock was quite sure of what she wanted. She slid down further into her bed. She rotated her hips upward, allowing her to use her other hand to slip a finger delicately into her ass. 

Just as she was getting into a rhythm, there was a knock at Bernie’s door. She squeaked and fell out of bed trying to get free over the covers. She quickly washed her hands in the basin by the window and stumbled toward the door.

“Um, who is it?” Bernie peeped shakily.

“Bernadetta. Please open the door.” Petra’s voice was quiet, and somewhat lacking the authority Bernie had come to associate it with.

Bernie pulled open the door and her jaw dropped. Before her stood Petra, still in her armor and the ruddy brown dress she wore to battle. And covered in bruises and bloodied bandages. She ushered Petra inside and closed the door, locking it out of habit. 

“What happened, my queen?” The sense of urgency Bernie felt overrode any nervousness she might have felt at addressing Petra properly.

“We have won, do not worry, my pet. My unit was simply larger of a target than we had been thinking.” Petra slumped on the bed.

“I’m so glad you’re alright. And your Pegasus?” 

“She is well. She had been taking fewer hits than I.”

Bernie grabbed the medical supplies she kept near her dresser and began delicately removing Petra’s armor. First her gauntlets, and then her spaulders, and finally her breastplate. Thankfully, the injuries to her core were mostly superficial, and had already begun to heal. Bernie then began to remove Petra’s riding boots and gasped. Petra’s leg below the knee was covered in bruises and large bandaged gashes. 

“My queen…” she murmured.

“Their forces were in larger numbers than expected. When I had run low of arrows, I dove closer to fight by spear.” She sighed. “The fighters of Farghus are having better training for Pegasus fighters than I knew.”

Bernie giggled nervously. “They have a knight on a gryphon as their national seal.”

The energy and fierceness returned to Petra’s eyes to deliver a scathing glare in her pet’s direction. Bernie let out a small squeak and then bowed her head to focus on changing Petra’s bandages.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, stupid Bernie, I don’t mean to mock you, my queen.”

Petra’s gaze instantly softened. “You are forgiven, my pet, but if I am hearing you calling yourself stupid again, I will be putting you over my knee, no matter my injuries.”

Bernie blushed. “Yes, my queen.” 

She returned her focus to Petra’s injuries, carefully unwrapping and replacing the bloodied bandages. Despite the angry ink blots of bruising covering them, Bernie couldn’t help but admire the powerful muscles lying just under her rough skin. Were it not for the open wounds, Bernie might not be able to resist the temptation to run her tongue along those beautiful legs. She shook the thought from her mind. Bernie finished rewrapping the wounds. She stroked the top of Petra’s unbruised foot with one finger.

“At least your feet were spared from battle, my queen.”

“The soreness they are having seems to be making that a lie.” Petra paused for a moment, considering. “Wash them. And then massage out the pain.”

“Y-yes, of course my queen!” Bernie stood and went to grab the basin. Then she remembered how it had been last used. “L-let me get some fresh water.”

Bernie came back to the room in just a few minutes, having secured warm water from the kitchen. She hated to think about what her fellow soldiers thought of her frantically running about the monastery in her nightdress, but she was also not in a headspace to consider it. She pulled a soft cloth from her dresser and knelt before Petra with the basin.

“You are being a good pet, Bernadetta.”

“Thank you, my queen.”

Bernie took to washing Petra’s feet with the same delicacy and precision she used to tend to the monastery’s greenhouse. She scrubbed the kilometers of travel and the harshness of battle from Petra’s soles, smoothing the tendons and muscles of her feet as she went. This was the closest to a religious experience she had ever had. Bernadetta had never cared much for the Church of Seiros.

When Bernie had finished cleaning and massaging, Petra pulled her feet closer and stretched her toes. A relieved smile spread across her face. 

“You have done very well, my pet,” the heir apparent whispered. “Open your mouth.”

Bernie blinked in surprise, but quickly did as she was told. Petra pushed her foot forward, sticking her big toe in Bernie’s mouth. Bernie cheeks turned bright red. Despite the difference in their stations, this was extremely unbecoming for a noblewoman. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Bernie’s father was screaming at her. But more centrally, Bernie’s own voice rang out ‘I thought you wanted me to be submissive, father?’

“For a knight to be protecting her queen, she is having to be well acquainted with all of her weapons.” Petra’s voice, despite its apparent weariness, was silky and soft. “The weapon I wish to teach you this evening is your tongue. Have you made use of your tongue with a body like mine?”

Bernie considered the question. She had kissed girls, and boys, before. But she didn’t think that was what Petra meant.

“I’ve uh… not been in a relationship like this one before, my queen.”

Petra smiled. “Then let me be guiding you.”

Petra reached up her dress, and slid her panties cautiously down her legs. She hopped slightly to pull the dress up above her hips. Then she scooted forward on the bed and spread her legs. She leaned forward, lightly cupping Bernie’s chin in her hand, and pulled Bernie’s face to the space between her legs. The small patch of reddish-purple hair above Petra’s vulva felt soft and warm against Bernie’s face.

“Just below the space where my lips are splitting, you will be finding my clit beneath a thin layer of skin. She is your target, but she is also very sensitive. You must not overwhelm her, though she is being the most important soldier on the field. Light, fast strikes are appropriate. As is sucking.” Petra winked.  “Do not ignore her allies, the lips and the space below her, you can be applying more force to them. Long, slow attacks are being preferred here. Bait the opening with swift motions along the edges, to soften the clit’s defenses. Are you having understanding, my pet?”

Bernie nodded, rubbing her face against Petra’s sinewy thighs. She began as instructed, gliding her tongue slowly along the length of her queen’s cunt. Petra’s tension seemed to melt away instantly. Bernie took her time here, acquainting herself with the movements that caused the greatest reactions in her queen. She dipped lower and teased Petra’s opening with the lightest of touches. Then she licked upward, stopping just at the clit which she gently sucked.

Petra’s moans were intoxicating. With each flick of Bernie’s tongue, each gentle application of pressure, the huntress princess cooed and sighed and gasped. She squeezed her thighs around Bernie’s ears and held her by the hair. When Bernie started to suck on Petra’s clit, she could no longer contain herself. She came, not once, but twice, holding Bernie firmly in place while rocking her hips against Bernie’s mouth. As Petra’s pleasure reached its climax, her grip on Bernie’s hair and face loosened, and she fell back onto the bed contentedly.

“You are sure you are not having more experience than you are telling me?” 

Bernie shook her head and wiped her mouth on a nearby rag.

“No, my queen, but you are a very good teacher.”

Petra smiled and sat up to look at Bernie.

“And you are a good student, my pet. Tell me, how can I reward such a good girl for taking such good care of her queen. Are tou wishing to cum for me?”

Bernie thought for a moment and shook her head again.

“Um, I was uh, actually wondering…,” she began. ‘Stupid Bernie just spit the words out.’ “Could you… would you s-spank me again? I just got such good sleep last time you did and you’ve been gone so long and I’ve barely slept at all and-”

Petra roughly shoved two fingers into Bernie’s mouth. “Be concise, my pet. It would be my pleasure to spank you, and you are not needing to justify your needs to me. An owner must always take care of every need of her pet, yes?”

Bernie looked up into Petra’s eyes. The timid archer looked to be in a daze, drool pooling around Petra’s fingers and running down her chin. She nodded slightly.

“I am seeing no reason we cannot be addressing both needs at once. Stand before me.”

Bernie scrambled to her feet to stand in front of Petra. Even with her standing above Petra, there was no denying Petra’s commanding presence, even when weakened by battle. Bernie shifted nervously and played with the hem of her nightdress.

“Remove your sleepwear, pet.”

Bernie nodded eagerly and slid out of the silky fabric. She felt at once embarrassed and exhilarated. The cold air of the monastery teased her pale flesh and invited goosebumps. There was nowhere for her to hide that she was already very hard. Petra stood from the bed and crossed the room to the dresser. Atop the dresser was the wooden hairbrush Bernie used every morning to help tame her naturally wild waves. Petra retrieved the brush, assessed its weight and thickness, and returned with it to her place on the bed.

“That is a good pet. Now lay across my lap, and be sure to be putting your cock between my thighs.”

Bernie nearly tripped in her rush to do so, but Petra caught her. She put her hands flat on the floor and let her legs dangle lightly. Even just the light pressure of Petra’s thighs around her cock was enough to get Bernie worked up. She resisted the urge to grind, though she knew in a few minutes she’d have little control over that. 

“Are you ready, my pet?” Petra purred.

Bernie shut her eyes tight and nodded. She couldn’t tell if she was dizzy from anticipation or the blood rushing to her head. Bernie squealed with surprise as a sharp strike from the hairbrush fell on her ass.

“You are being a pet, but not an animal, Bernadetta. You will be using your voice when I am asking a question.”

“Y-yes, my Queen, I’m sorry. I’m ready.”

“Good girl.”

The first blow was meant to hurt, to teach Bernie how to behave. The ones that came after it were of a different sort. Petra expertly painted Bernie’s ass a delightful pink in soft, even, overlapping strokes. This spanking didn’t hurt the same way her first had. It was more caring and gentle. Each blow was precisely placed, with force precision-calculated to elicit quiet moans and squeaks from Petra’s new plaything.

Bernie couldn’t help herself. Each spank caused her hips to buck, leaving a trail of her precum in the warm space between Petra’s thighs. The pleasurable friction against her shaft and the sharp sting of the hairbrush swirled in Bernie’s mind and body. She could feel herself growing warmer and warmer as the hairbrush left its marks on her ass and thighs. She continued to thrust against Petra in time with the spanks, raising her hips after each, desperate for the next strike. 

After a few minutes, Bernie was barely registering the pain. The spanking had wrapped her mind in a thick dopamine fog. Slowly, every single muscle relaxed, leaving Bernie limp in her queen’s lap. The squeaks and moans devolved into desperate pants and sighs. She ground desperately against Petra’s thighs, thrusting faster and faster like the rabbit to which Petra had once compared her. Without her noticing, Petra had increased the intensity of the spanking, landing more frequent and more powerful strikes. Bernie’s ass had become a watercolor painting of ruby and crimson. 

With one final strong spank, Bernie came, seed spilling over her queen’s thighs and the floor. Petra set the hairbrush on the bed. She rubbed her hand gently along Bernie’s back and ass.

“You have done so well, my pet. Are you pleased?”

“Yes, my queen,” Bernie mumbled. “Thank you, my queen.”

“That is a very good girl,” Petra said with a warm smile, “You are nearly ready for bed I am thinking. But you have one last task to perform for your queen.”

“I-I’ll do whatever you wish, my queen.”

“Clean your seed from where it has fallen.”

Bernie shakily rose from Petra’s lap and reached for the rag.

“No, no, my pet.” Petra said with a warm and comforting tone. “You are to be remembering tonight’s lesson.”

Bernie blinked in confusion for a moment before Petra’s meaning dawned on her. She knelt on the floor and began cleaning Petra’s thighs with her tongue. 

“It is such a smart pet I am having.”

Bernie lapped up the cum, still warm and sticky, but almost sweet. It only took a few licks. Despite the size of the orgasm, Bernadetta had never cum in great amounts. When she was done, she sat back on her heels and looked to Petra. In response Petra merely cocked her head and looked down at the floor.

Bernie blushed. Was she meant to clean the floor with her tongue too? There were few other ways to interpret Petra’s order. Without asking for clarification, Bernie lowered herself on all fours and licked the small pool of cum off the ground. It was degrading but, in that moment, Bernie would do anything for her queen.

“That is my good pet. Now come lay with me.”

Petra slid out of her dress, electing to be as naked as her pet. Bernie crawled into bed next to her. She still smelt of the road, of sweat and dirt and smoke. But beneath that, the warm familiar smells of horses and fresh baked bread persisted, and coaxed Bernie off to her best night of sleep in a week.

[eddysocs]

Call Out Your Name (Fiona Goode x OC)

Summary: When Fiona's cancer comes to claim her, Nyxa is ready to fight to get her back, no matter what it takes on her end.

Word Count: 888

Warnings: Temporary character death, cancer, blood, resurrection

Though she knew it was coming, Nyxa wept when Fiona’s cancer overcame her. It couldn’t end like this. It wouldn’t. Nyxa fell to her knees and screamed until her throat hurt. She cried out to the empty room, her eyes turning to the window and looking at the moon as she invoked the name of the goddess, pleading with her to find a way to revive Fiona and restore her as the Supreme. Nyxa's prayers seemed to fall on deaf ears.

The tears came again, somehow even harder than before. The goddess of witches had refused her an answer, or even a sign. But that would not stop her. With Fiona laid in bed as if asleep, Nyxa dries her tears and steps out of the room, magically binding it to prevent all who wish to enter. She had to seek a willing ear and for that, she must leave the coven and search elsewhere.

The furious rapping on the door to Marie Laveau's caused her knuckles to ache, but she didn’t relent until the voodoo priestess answered. "What the hell do you want, witch bitch," Marie accused.

"I need to reverse death."

"Child, I don’t mess with that sort of thing. Not anymore." Marie made a move to close the door, but Nyxa wedged her Louboutin in, preventing the slam that Marie had intended to end this conversation.

"Don’t make me kill you," Nyxa threatened. Any other time, Marie would have laughed such a threat off, but there was a storm brewing in Nyxa's eyes and that made her threat far less empty than she would have liked.

With a heavy sigh, Marie relented. "Invoke Maman Brigitte. She’s in charge of the dead, and will be most likely to be sympathetic to your cause. Offer her pepper infused rum and ask her your favor. You might have to sweeten the deal. Now get the hell out."

Nyxa withdrew her shoe, scuffed, but replaceable, whereas Fiona was not. She made her way back to the sealed room, the rum having been rather easily acquired from a merchant in the french quarter. She fetched a silver goblet from the kitchen on her way up, and began the summoning.

"Maman Brigitte, Goddess of Death, come to me, hear my plea." Nyxa raised the cup towards the moon that still shown brightly into the room. She repeated her request twice more until a black smoke materialized in front of her. As it dissipated, it revealed the goddess. Nyxa knelt and offered her the glass of rum.

Taking the cup from her hand, she spoke. "What cause do you have to summon me?"

"I beseech you, restore Fiona to me."

"Your rum is good, but I fear it is not enough for me to fulfill your desire."

"Then what do you wish? Name it and it is yours." Nyxa wasn’t about to play like she wasn’t desperate. Whatever sacrifice was needed, she was prepared to make.

"I need a shepherd. When your time comes, your soul shall be indebted to me and you will usher souls to the other side for eternity."

Nyxa didn’t even need to think it over. "Yes." The word came out of her mouth naturally. What else was she going to do with eternity anyhow? She was probably bound for hell as it was. What Maman Brigitte was offering didn’t sound half so bad as the possibility of that. "As long as you can promise me that Fiona will be restored as she was in health and spirit, then I accept. What do I need to do?"

"It’s a blood pact. I’ll need your blood." Nyxa nodded and made for the letter opener kept in the drawer. She used it to cut her palm, and let the blood drip into the goblet of rum. She winced at the sharp pain of the force needed to make the dull blade cut her skin. She’d clean and wrap it later.

Maman Brigitte drank down the contents of the cup with no hesitation. The moon's light was snuffed out by a gathering of clouds and lightning flashed across the sky. By the time darkness settled again, Maman Brigitte was gone and Nyxa was left with Fiona.

The young witch rushed to her bedside. "Fiona! Fiona, please. Tell me she brought you back to me!" She felt more tears well up within her, and found that she couldn’t hold them back, the anticipation of disappointment was too much. Just as her vision began to blur, Fiona turned her head towards her. The sobs now were ones of joy. The voodoo goddess had made good on her promise.

Nyxa reached for Fiona's hand, taking it between both of hers. "What deal did you strike to save me," Fiona questioned disapprovingly.

"It doesn’t matter. I would have struck any deal to see you as you should be, as the Supreme of this coven."

"Ha! Don’t tell me whatever deal you made wasn’t just a little bit selfish. This coven surely doesn’t want me, no one but you, anyhow."

"Is that so wrong?"

Fiona hummed, as if thinking it over, but didn’t reply. Heaven forbid she show a little bit of gratitude even after having just been brought back from the dead. Nyxa didn’t care. All she wanted was Fiona, and that’s what she’d gotten.

Forever Tag: @arrthurpendragon, @baubeautyandthegeek, @foxesandmagic, @carmens-garden, @bossyladies, @getawaycardotmp3, @misshiraethsworld, @kmc1989, @curious-kittens-ocs

Nyxa Ash: @hallospaceboyy, @hermosoharry, @iticaboopsyou, @isingonly4myangel, @bowiesdaughter, @brienneseveruscalawayfanfiction, @unwrittenletter

[thebreakfastgenie]

Song/band recs?

This is a PERFECT opportunity to rec my favorite Boston area environmental lawyer turned folk singer-songwriter turned unitarian minister turned climate activist turned retiree, Fred Small!

I'm going to rec one song from each of his five albums that I have (there's one earlier one but I don't have it because it's harder to get) but please know I like every song on these albums and choosing one to highlight was really hard. A lot of his songs are political, but not all of them (and there are some really heart-wrenching relationship songs). Some of the political songs are kind of depressing (Scott and Jamie) painfully relevant (Face at the Window) but a lot of them talk about resistance and hope (Denmark 1943, Not in Our Town).

I Will Stand Fast Every Man

Every man gonna be a soldier Every man be cut to kill Every man looking over his shoulder Every man be shaking still

(but seriously this entire album is so good it has two songs about WWII and one true story about a gay family that is so sad)

The Heart of the Appaloosa The Heart of the Appaloosa

They condemn us to a wasteland Of barren soil and stone We shall fight them if we must But we will find another home"

Jaguar The Distance

I emptied the drawer filled with letters And I bowed my head and cried No one ever loved me better There was love in every line

Also trigger warning for another song on the album, Light in the Hall, which is about a CSA survivor.

No Limit No Limit

We will sing the songs of childhood We will dance the steps unknown We will weave in blazing colors We will let our terror show We will call out to each other At the hour of attack We are safe within our magic We will turn the demon back

Only Love Not In Our Town (cover by the San Francisco Gay Men's Chorus)

One moment of conviction, one voice quiet and clear One act of compassion, it all begins here No safety now in silence, we've got to stand our ground No hate, no violence—not in our town

I also want to share this lyric from Talking Wheelchair Blues on The Heart of the Appaloosa because it's so fucking iconic and I did not appreciate it when I was a child:

She says "Not bad for somebody able-bodied You know, with adequate care and supervision You could be taught simple tasks

[sophisticated-creepy]

“Ouch!” The prick was sharp and sudden, drawing forth a droplet of blood, the surprise of the hidden thorn more shocking than the initial prick itself.

“My lady?” asked the matron housekeeper, her voice tinged with concern. The older woman’s head snapped up from her chores upon hearing the startled yelp from the lady of the Manor House on the other side of the drawing room.          

“A rogue thorn,” chuckled the first, going back to arranging the long stemmed roses in the decorative ivory vase on a table in front of the fireplace. “No need to fuss. A thorn every now and again never hurt anybody.”

“Except for my lady’s finger,” said the seasoned housekeeper. Walking over to the small settee where her mistress worked, she took the offended hand still buried in its labor amongst the roses to examine the damage, and with a measured exhale of timeless patience, guided the young lady of the house by her finger towards a small console table tucked under a bank of windows.

          “Tis only one drop of blood,” laughed the woman who dutifully followed behind the housekeeper.

          “I will have no stains upon these carpets.”

          “You fuss too much, Mrs. Marple.”

          “And you bleed too much,” quipped the house servant as she rummaged in the table’s drawer, whereupon she found a small kerchief of linen. Taking on the natural role of nurse, Mrs. Marple tied the length of cloth over the wound of the affronted, alabaster finger of her mistress. “Why are you rearranging the florals? Were the chrysanthemums not to your liking?”

          “Mr. Northcott prefers the chrysanthemums, whereas I enjoy roses,” the lady replied. “And while my darling husband is away on business, I see no problem in changing out the center pieces.”

          “Roses are harder to procure this time of year, I’m sure the expense---.”

          “The expense is worth my happiness,” Mrs. Northcott supplied, finishing the housekeeper’s beginning justifications of finicky seasonal flora. “That is, the expense is worth my happiness, until Mr. Northcott comes home.”

          Mrs. Marple watched the youthful glimmer of mischief dull from her employer’s eyes, the hazel exuberance of life and intelligence fogging over into a clouded shade of their former loveliness. As their hands were still clasped, she offered comfort to her friend, covering the delicate appendage with her rough and calloused palm hardened from years of toil. “We’ll keep the chrysanthemums in the east den for the time being until Mr. Northcott returns, then, we’ll switch them back so you may enjoy the roses in peace.”

          “Thank you, Mrs. Marple. You’ve always been a good friend to me.” Mrs. Northcott threw her arms around the housekeeper, hugging onto the wizened woman with whom she cherished.

          “Anything for you, my dear,” and Mrs. Marple squeezed back in equal measure. “Now, enough sentimentality. Go back to your roses. And no more bleeding,” she scolded, shooing away the mistress of the house.

          “I promise you,” laughed the other, returning to her vase, “that not a single drop of my blood shall blemish your precious carpets.”

          “See to it that it doesn’t,” Mrs. Marple harrumphed with playful animosity, and like clockwork, the two returned to their daily tasks of maintaining the upkeep of the large and stately Manor House.

*~*~*~*

          “My lady, are you unwell? Your dinner was hardly touched.”

          Lillian Eleanor Northcott blinked twice before recognizing the old and trustworthy butler Alistair standing to her side. Seeing his wrinkled brow furrowed in deep lines of concern, she smiled, hoping the gesture alone would smooth the worried creases. “I am well,” she spoke, reclining in the high-backed dining chair as much as she could manage, given the rigid furniture. The quiet of the dining room dragged on, the muffled ticking of a grandfather clock stationed in the foyer outside the lavish parlor softening the sound of silence between butler and lady. “It’s been two days. Mr. Northcott is to make his return on the morrow,” Lillian said at length.

          “So he is,” nodded the proper gentleman. He was patient, allowing the pauses of conversation to breathe between each of her thoughts.

          “He always keeps his affairs to three days. It’s a wonder these trips accomplish anything at all.”

          “Mr. Northcott is, indeed, a savvy business man,” Alistair said while continuing his affirmative nodding.

          “How much business could there possibly be in canning?” Lillian asked, a slight scoff to her question. “Surely he has suitable contracts with all the wharfs he needs.”

          “I hear there is prospect to the north,” supplied the butler. “A good opportunity for growth and expansion, I’d suppose.”

          “I suppose,” she repeated, her chin finding her palm in a melancholy gesture as she leaned over the polished dining table.

          “Are you unhappy with Mr. Northcott’s business?”

          “Of course not, the cannery has been nothing but a boon to this town,” Lillian remarked.

          “Then, you are unhappy because Mr. Northcott has been absent so long?”

          Lillian moved her stare from some unknown fixed point in the far off distance across the dining table to instead observe the old butler, her gaze tender as she took in the still present wrinkles etched across his weathered forehead. With a determine lift of her chin, she righted herself, and stood to face the oldest of the house servants eye-to-eye. “Alistair, how long has it been since the staff has had a night off?” she asked, the question, she noted, startling the frowned wrinkles of worry into raised ridges of shock.

          “The schedule is clear on who has the proper time off to make sure everyone is well rested---.”

          “I mean the whole staff? At the same time?” Lillian asked, cutting off the butler’s eloquent response. “When has the entire staff taken a night off?”

          “Never, my lady,” Alistair gaped. “That would be entirely improper.”

          “Take the night off,” Lillian declared. She watched in amusement as the old man continued to open and close his mouth without emitting a sound, and laughed at being the one to deliver him into such a rare state of dumbstruck. “I want the whole staff to leave the grounds of this Manor. Take in the evening sights. Enjoy the nightlife that Newberry has to offer.”

          “That is completely---.”

          “Generous of me?”

          “My lady,” Alistair sighed, finally regaining his bearings. He stepped forward to place gentle hands on his mistress’s shoulders. “Ellie,” he spoke, adopting the nickname borne from well-worn friendship. “I cannot grant this request.”

          “Can’t I, for one night, be alone in my own house?” Lillian whispered, an anxious force beginning to creep slowly upwards from the pit of her stomach to reach her fluttering heart. “Please. Give me one night to walk these halls at my leisure, to exist in these rooms without purpose, to meander without the threat of eyes following my every move.” She heard the hesitance in his hemming and hawing against her proposal, and so altered her request to alleviate any of his concerns. “You don’t have to stay out all night. At least…grant me one hour. Please.”

          “Mr. Northcott would not approve,” Alistair said.

          “It is because of Mr. Northcott that I wish for this solace.” Lillian looked away from the clear, gray eyes of the long-trusted Alistair as the shameful burden of despair lashed its cold yoke across her shoulders.

          Alistair’s heart broke with pity for the woman standing before him. He saw the pains this “marriage” inflicted upon the young mistress, and watched as month after month, turned year into year this once vibrant heiress of a coal baron withdraw into herself, becoming a wilted, shadowed version of her former glamor. If an hour’s time was all that was needed to grant his friend the small reprieve she so desperately sought, he could afford her at least that much succor.

          “One hour,” Alistair stated, “and Mr. Northcott need never know.”

          Lillian was a blur as she embraced him, and all he could do in that instance of vulnerability was hold her. In a matter of moments, Lillian was waving farewell to the retreating shadows of her household personnel, easily recognizing the bundled forms of Alistair the butler and Mrs. Marple the housekeeper who both dawdled as the caboose of their party, the two heads of staff lagging behind before eventually disappearing into the mist of winter’s night. The oppressive thoughts that sunk deep in Lillian’s mind of her husband’s inevitable return home vanished once Alistair agreed to her schemes, and giddy with a lightheartedness she could only remember ever having experienced as a child at Christmas, glided freely from one exquisite room to the next, laughter on her lips and joy lighting her every step.

          The Manor House, to say the least, was a sprawling piece of property, yet when Lillian laughed, a warmth filled the heavy structure of beam and wainscot. The crystal appeared to sparkle of its own fruition, and the timber in a musty hearth crackled with a soothing, sonorous lullaby of comfort and security. The spirit of the Northcott Manor House came alive at the sounds of its mistress’s mirth, and tonight, the house appeared to glow as she wandered the corridors. A strange urge compelled her to see each glittering bits and bobs as if experiencing the random assortments of bric-a-brac and trinkets for the first time, so she touched the gilded, delicate porcelain in a massive walnut hutch, and brushed soft fingertips over the textured cushions of a sitting room. Yet in one specific hallway, she tip-toed with careful finesse to place her ear upon the closed oaken door of her son’s bedroom, imagining him sleeping softly in his bed, dreaming delights only toddlers are able to wondrously conjure.

          Lillian paused at that particular door the longest, taking in one deep breath after the other, her ear continuing to press upon the sturdy barrier protecting her son, comforted with the knowledge of her offspring’s quiet slumber. She kissed the polished paneling, whispered a soft “I love you”, and then descended down the stairs to spend the rest of her free hour in the main level chambers. One of Lillian’s most treasured hobbies was reading. She rarely indulged in such luxury, however, as her husband found the activity a frivolous waste of time, scolding at the prospect of reading when a lady of her stature should have her time occupied in other matters. When pressed for opinions on what those matters entailed, Mr. Northcott either fumbled his response or changed the topic of conversation entirely before ignoring his wife to her own devices.

          Not one to be so easily snubbed, Lillian fought for her library, the room a constant reminder of her tenacious spirit, even if she avoided the tomes to spare herself a frosty condemnation. If anything, the library served as a mere status symbol, a box of four walls constructed of bookcases to house business partners in furthering the build of Newberry’s canning empire, and as much as she cherished her library, there lingered an unnatural, persistent chill to the room, her once proud sanctuary of quiet leisure turned hollow and neglected. Now, with the remainder of an hour on hand, Lillian decided to spend the rest of her time nose deep in the old, worn out pages of her favorite book. The main parlor off the foyer was the most intimate of the many rooms the house had to offer, providing ample space for the plush furniture to delight guests in the finer arts of entertaining. Lillian took note of the well stoked fireplace as she walked into the room, the grate alight in healthy flames prepared by one of her staff members before the granted upon hour of leave. The fire may have been bright and beautiful, but its reach of light, was poor, barely even visible enough to illuminate the hearthstones.

          The dim lighting was sure to cause strain on her eyes in a room so swathed in pleasant shadows, making the act of reading near impossible in such gloomy conditions, however, much to her delight, Lillian realized the lamps in this room had yet to be lit. One of her more eccentric quirks as lady of the house, was taking on the responsibility in the lighting of the lamps upon the fireplace mantel. The sacred, symbolic routine of welcoming in light and warmth brought a soft smile to her lips, yet there was a secret layer to the joy she received in the simplistic ritual of bringing light into her home, and that was the irksome fluster which beset her husband as the lamps were lit by her hand, as he deemed such a menial task was designed for the house servants, not the socialite she was meant to exemplify. To save himself the headaches and arguments with his wife, Mr. Northcott agreed to Lillian’s whims by allowing her the liberty of lighting only three lamps.

          Why he fretted over something nonsensical, Lillian would never understand, nor was she able to wrap her mind around his constant affinity to the number three, but those were thoughts she laid aside, for she did not want the figment of her cantankerous husband to rob what was left of her solitary peace. Lillian knew where to find the matchsticks for her nightly task, and set to work, striking the tip of the long, wooden match into a blazing flame to light the first lamp on the far corner of the intricate fireplace mantel in the cozy front room parlor. Once the first lamp was ignited, she floated over to the second lamp on the opposite corner of the mantel, lighting the oil-soaked wick to mirror its brother. Then, with careful precision, she carried the lighted matchstick over to her reading chair by the parlor window, where she next lit the third light.

~*~*~*~

          Lillian heard a “pop” come from the parlor window in front of her. Confused, she watched as spider web fissures slithered outward from a hole in the pane glass before her, the chill of winter seeping through the room to settle deep into her bones. The winds were bitter that night, howling and whistling in a dreadful moan, the icy air sinking deeper, and deeper, robbing Lillian of the ability to feel her body, let alone draw in enough breath to fill her lungs. The cold swept her up in a weightless surrender, moisture spreading out from a place between her shoulder blades while also dampening the fabric of lace and finery above her heart. She blinked once, then twice, and then closed her heavy eyes with thoughts drifting towards the caring Mrs. Marple, and the fuss she would undoubtedly make once she saw the stain of the saturated carpet beneath her.

Happy Friday the 13th, everybody! What better way to celebrate the spooky and supernatural than by debuting a new Newberry paranormal mystery??? If you haven't read the first book, dig back in my archives to read "Newberry at Night". That might help clear up some characters and backstories, but you don't have to read it if you don't want to.

I just have to say, I'm so happy to be bringing a new story for everyone to read! I will also warn you that this is a book in process, so chapter updates are going to be random at best, but I will try to get as many chapters out as quick as I can.

If you want to see what else I've got in the works, check out my past work in the archives, and follow along with my graphic novel "The Skeleton Keeper".

Thank you to all the readers out there who read my works! It's both terrifying and thrilling to get these characters out into the world, so thank you for loving them as much as I do! Leave me a like and a comment if you feel inclined! Share with some friends, but more importantly, have fun and stay spooky!

~Melissa    

[radarsteddybear]

Whumptober Day 6 - I See I Don't Have Your Leave

Fandom: Original Fiction (H.O.U.N.D.S.) Prompt(s): Blindfold, Tortured for Information, "Hit them harder." Rating: Teen Additional Tags: whump, hurt/comfort, friendship, found family, spy-fi

Cassandra glanced around at the F.E.L.I.S. agents at the perimeter of the room.  

“With your leave, gentlemen, I’ll just be on my way,” she said with a nod.  She turned around only to find herself face-to-face with two more F.E.L.I.S. goons, their guns drawn and pointed directly at her chest.

Cassandra rose her hands into the air.  “I see I don’t have your leave.”  She glanced around again, calculating her chances if she chose to fight, but with two guns covering her, she quickly decided against it.

The F.E.L.I.S. agent to her right made quick work of binding her hands behind her back while another stripped her of her weapons.  She was soon led through a dizzying labyrinth of hallways.

Finally, they stopped at a windowless room with a heavy, metal door.  One of the F.E.L.I.S. goons untied her hands only to shackle them to a thick chain hanging from a hook on the ceiling.  

A man in a white lab coat strode into the room.

“Hello, Miss Jacobson,” he said in an accented voice, slowly circling her.  “I’ve heard much about you.”  He nodded to the two goons who were still adjusting the chain, and they stepped back.  The man in the lab coat took a strip of fabric from his pocket and stepped forward to tie it around Cassandra’s eyes, blocking out the world.

“And here I don’t even know your name,” Cassandra said dryly.

The man chuckled.  “Pardon my rudeness.  I am Dr. Felix Lang; I specialize in the area of pain.”

Cassandra’s mouth suddenly felt very dry.  “I see.”

“Particularly, pain as it relates to the extraction of information.”

“You mean torture.”

“Oh, come now, Miss Jacobson.  Let’s not be so crass,” Dr. Lang said.

Cassandra began to hear the sound of metal straining against metal as the goons began cranking the winch, hoisting her up off the ground.

“I am very familiar with your kind,” Dr. Lang continued.  “You H.O.U.N.D.S. agents aren’t very cooperative.  But no matter; we will get what we want.”

“And what is it that you want?” Cassandra asked.  Her wrists were starting to chafe where they made contact with the metal.

“Oh, nothing much, really.  Just the location of the nuclear armament map.”

“But I don’t know where the nuclear armament map is,” Cassandra said.

Dr. Lang chuckled again.  “We shall see.  We are very familiar with the internal hierarchy of your organization.  Information like this would certainly be known to an agent of your caliber.  And if not…well, you may know more than you think you do.”

He shouted an order, no doubt at the two goons, and Cassandra heard the door open and close.  Suddenly, Cassandra was aware of a presence directly in front of her.  A finger under her chin forced her head upwards.

“Yes, a fine specimen,” Dr. Lang said approvingly.  “I’m going to enjoy this.”  He took a step back as the door opened and shut once again.

“I have found that these…techniques are often more effective when the subject doesn’t see the instruments,” Dr. Lang said.  Cassandra could hear the grin in his voice.  “The imagination provides a much more colorful picture than anything I could come up with.”

Cassandra heard the sound of metal and wood clattering around, much like the sound of someone rummaging through a kitchen drawer.  

“Before we start,” Dr. Lang said, “I suppose I must keep this fair.  Where is the nuclear armament map?”

“I don’t know.”

“Good,” Dr. Lang said.  “I was hoping you would say that.”

***

Cassandra gasped.  She hardly felt the ache in her shoulders for the pain across the rest of her body.  Her skin would be a constellation of bruises tomorrow if it wasn’t already today.  Warm blood dripped down her side.  Dried blood formed a crust in the hollow of her collarbone.  One eye was quickly swelling shut, and her mouth was stale with the taste of copper.  Her head spun, and without the solid feeling of the floor beneath her feet, she might as well have been hanging sideways.  Her stomach churned.  Cassandra wanted nothing more than to curl up in a tight ball for the rest of eternity.

“You really are quite the specimen,” Dr. Lang said in a rare lull in his assault.  “You H.O.U.N.D.S. agents do an admirable job of following your training.  I must thank you for allowing me to practice so many of my talents.”

“Fuck you,” Cassandra spat.

Dr. Lang tsked.  “Oh, naughty, naughty.  Though I suppose I should take pride in finally causing you to say something other than your pitiful ‘I don’t know.’”

Again came the rummaging sound that Cassandra had learned to associate with a fresh type of pain.

“I don’t often get to use this one,” Dr. Lang said.  “I am eager to see how long you will last with it.”

Cassandra tried to take deep breaths.  She had trained for this.  Everything would be ok.  She just had to–

Something solid and sharp hit her square in the stomach, forcing the air from her lungs.  

“I wonder what you think this little beauty is,” Dr. Lang said as she struggled to draw a breath.  “I hope I will get to show you later.  Perhaps that will be your reward for telling me what I want to know.”

The thing hit her again, right in the stomach once more.  And again.  And again.

Cassandra’s pain-hazed thoughts wandered back to her torture training, specifically the day they went over waterboarding.  She wondered if one could suffocate from getting the wind knocked out of them too many times.

Cassandra was vaguely aware of the door opening and closing.  After a few more blows, a new voice, this one sultry and female, spoke.

“Hit her harder, Felix.  This is taking far too long.”

“These things can’t be rushed, Andrea.  They have to be treated delicately.”

Another blow.

“I suppose,” the woman said.  “But Number 10 is growing impatient.”

“Number 10 is always impatient.”

Another blow.

“That may be so, but you still have to play the game.”

“All right, all right.”

Another blow.

“Don’t forget to ask her for the information every once in a while, hmm?  It’s not all about seeing how long she can handle your fun.”

“Will you get out of here?”

Another blow.

The door opened and closed again.  Cassandra’s oxygen-starved brain fixated on the sound, replaying it again and again as she swung from the ceiling like a pinata.  

Dr. Lang sighed.  “I know she’s right, but I was having so much fun.”  There was a small thud, like he was setting his latest torture device down.  “Where are the plans?”

This time, Cassandra couldn’t answer, even if she had wanted to.

“Good.”

Just as Cassandra was starting to regain control over her breathing, she was punched in the stomach again by the…whatever-it-was.  This time, Dr. Lang didn’t bother to wait between blows, and it didn’t take long for the world around her to begin to fade away.

To Be Continued...

[aubins]

Elincia knows better to try and sneak up on Yuri, even if they are all unarmed on the set of Stairway to Stardom. She doubts she could pull it off and even if she managed to, it was even harder to imagine them appreciating the gesture. Birthdays were still for celebrating though, so she'd have to find a different kind of surprise.

Perhaps she'll regret not getting a full night of sleep but it's worth it, to bring a smile to a friends face. It takes long, careful work but eventually the cake is finished. Two tiers of sponge with berry jam and cream, decorated with a touch of fondant and some fancy macarons. Now, for an iced message and done. The sun begins to rise outside, scattering pink and purple hues across the sky.

"Yuri," she calls quietly, knocking on the door to their dormitory. It's early, enough for them to be a little grumpy with her but not so much that it was likely to lead to a festering grudge. She bounces on her tiptoes, leading the way to the kitchen. "Follow me, I have something for you!"

"Happy birthday, Yuri. I hope you have a wonderful day," a short laugh and a sheepish grin follow, "and that you can forgive me for waking you up so early."

Even in this strange, new world, Yuri rises with the sun.

Unlike Abyss, there are no pressing matters that warrant their immediate attention, the only scrap of their identity that has remained constant being a name that, on some days, belongs to a stranger. If August here passes for the Verdant Rain Moon back in Fódlan, then they suppose that their birthday has remained the same, too. Their smartphone can't seem to shut up about it, in any case. They had to chuck it into a drawer to be rid of its incessant buzzing.

They should be happy. It is the only thing that hasn't been stolen from the boy once named after a star.

When Elincia comes knocking on their dormitory door, a single finger raises to their lips, head tilting toward their still-slumbering companions, even as they raise dutifully to follow. They can't imagine what it is that she has for them, exactly—information? It would certainly be nice—but they trust her enough for it not to be a trap. And—

“Ah.” Rare is the occasion that they are rendered monosyllabic, but the cake earns the faintest uptilt of their lips, head dipping in gratitude. “A happy birthday indeed. Thank you, Elincia.” The words truly are genuine. “And there’s nothing to forgive, friend, I was already awake.” They reach for a knife, flipping it over in their hand with a practiced grace before pulling the cake closer to themself. “Well? Let’s indulge in your hard work, shall we? Come have a slice.”