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drabbles-mc · 1 month

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I'm Not Sorry

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, dry humping, semi-public hookup

Inspired by This Text Post: i should be riding some nerd's thigh while he gropes all over my body & tells me i'm the girl of his dreams

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: i've been struggling to finish fics lately but i saw that text post a couple days ago, knew i wanted to write about it for Bob, and then BAM this all fell outta me tonight. unbeta'd to the max but Bob Floyd deserves to fuck so time was of the essence 😌

Top Gun Maverick Taglist: @garbinge @proceduralpassion @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

If you wanted to be dramatic, you could say that you and Bob had been playing a very coy game of cat and mouse for months. It was a bit of an exaggeration, but not by much. A majority of the time that you spent with each other was work-related. It was usually work related, and there was almost always other people around. The closest the two of you got to having time alone was when all of you went out together and everyone else got distracted with pool or darts or each other. So while it might’ve been months according to the calendar, it wasn’t really quite that drastic.

Still, though, you tried to make the most out of the time that the two of you got to have.

It was easy, especially at first, to get a rise out of him, to get his cheeks to flush pink, to get him tripping over his words. A seemingly accidental touch, a well-timed innuendo or wink—that’s all it really took. You didn’t say anything about it but you noticed each time his gaze would break, eyes flickering down from yours to your mouth anytime your teeth dragged along your bottom lip. It never took much with him and for a while you just chalked it up to the fact that he was sweet and shy and a little awkward, that anyone flirting with him like that would get that reaction out of him. It wasn’t until you saw him perfectly unfazed at The Hard Deck one night when a girl at the bar was all but falling into his lap that you realized it wasn’t a Bob thing. It was a you thing. Once you realized that, it was all bets off.

There had been more than one occasion when thanks to your subtly wandering hands Bob nearly spat his drink out across the bar or dropped the bottle from his hand completely. You were able to keep a straight face and play it off, and every now and then Bob was able to recover with some grace, but there had been a time or two when he’d caught a few odd looks from the rest of the crew. It was easy enough to wave them off and they’d let it drop, but the second his focus was back on you, you could tell that he was working overtime to stay on the right side of self-control. All you could do was smile and try to carry on like nothing had happened.

Truthfully, it had gotten to a point where you had almost just resigned yourself to this being what it was going to be like with you and Bob. You were trying to accept that this limbo, this knowing that you wanted him and he wanted you but neither of you really found the time to do much of anything about it, was as good as it was going to get. A never-ending chase, a game with no winners.

“Alright,” you said as you hopped off your barstool, “I gotta head out.”

“Why?” Rooster asked, sounding as though he couldn’t fathom why anyone would want or need to be anywhere else on a Friday night.

You laughed as you dug your wallet out, taking out a few bills to close out your tab and then some. “Some of us have shit to do in the morning, Bradshaw.”

He laughed and gave you a mock disbelieving look. “I don’t think so.”

Raising your eyebrows, you turned your head to face him. “You wanna close out my tab, then? Sounds like you might wanna close out my tab.”

He threw his hands up in surrender. “Forget it—see you Monday.”

You laughed a little harder at that. “That’s what I thought.”

It didn’t seem like your departure disturbed the flow too much, everyone falling back into their previous conversations as you made your way to the bar to square up your tab. You didn’t even bother looking back as you made your way to the door of the bar. By the time your feet hit the blacktop of the parking lot, you were already fishing your keys out of your bag.

Once you were a few strides away from the bar and the clamor of noise coming from inside died down, all you heard was the sound of your own footsteps, and the ocean not too far off. It was peaceful until you heard someone else’s footsteps behind you. The sound alone wouldn’t usually have been strange. Someone else deciding to leave the bar at the same time as you wasn’t a weird occurrence. What made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, however, was the fact that the footsteps were getting quicker and closer. You felt your jaw clenching, positioning your keys between your fingers the way you’d always been taught. You were only a few steps away from your car now but you still found yourself taking a deep breath, getting ready to turn around and see whoever it was that was behind you. You were about to turn and brace for impact when you heard Bob’s voice calling out your name, a little breathless, and very rushed.

Turning around and seeing him, some of the tension disappeared. You huffed, shoulders dropping. “Jesus, Bob.”

There was an apologetic smile on his face as he realized what had just happened. “Sorry.”

Shaking your head, you slipped your keys so that you were holding them in your hand normally again. You managed to laugh at the potential worst case scenario versus the reality of the situation. “Another step without saying my name and I think we both would’ve been sorry.”

He stepped in a little closer to you as he nodded towards your car. “Just wanted to walk you to your car.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you turned and started the last few steps across the lot with him. “You know, walking me out to my car is much more chivalrous and much less creepy when you tell me you’re going to do it.”

There was a smirk on his face as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Guess I’ll have to remember that next time.”

Silence took over the space between you, and while it was comfortable enough, you couldn’t help but to feel like there was more to it, something in the air. Hitting the unlock button on your keys, the lights of your car flashed once. You looked at Bob, then at your car, and then back to Bob. “Well,” you chuckled, “thank you for the company on this long, treacherous journey.” You reached for the handle on the driver’s door. “Hope we can do it aga—”

Bob cut your sentence short when he placed one hand on top of yours on the door handle, keeping you from opening it. Before you could jump to another sentence and ask him what he was doing, his other hand was pressing against the small of your back and pulling you into him so that he could press his lips to yours in a kiss that was intense and nervous all at once.

It lasted just long enough for you to realize what was happening and how good it felt and then he pulled away. Going off the way his eyes were wider than you’d ever seen them, he was just as surprised at himself as you were. Despite the shock all over his face, he didn’t take his hand off your back, although the one that was covering yours on the door dropped back to his side.

“Sor—I’m sorry,” he finally forced out. “I’m…” he trailed off as he looked at you, tongue darting out over his bottom lip.

Another second passed in heavy silence, and when you didn’t try to break free of him, didn’t try to push him away, he let the rest of his sentence die on the tip of his tongue as he kissed you again. You could feel the way that he was more confident this time, the warmth of his palm bleeding through the thin fabric of your tank top as he pressed you against him.

You brought your hands up so that they were resting in the crook of where his neck met his shoulder. One slid up, thumb beneath his jaw as he deepened the kiss. It was all you could do to not ball up the cotton of his t-shirt in your fist, put it in a vice grip so that he couldn’t try to get away. However once you felt the way his tongue pushed into your mouth, and the way he used his body to pin you between him and the side of the car, it became clear that he wasn’t planning on going anywhere.

He had one hand still on your back, one hand braced against the side of your car. It was the first time it ever seemed like he was crowding you, like he was trying to make you seem small. You didn’t mind it. With the way he was kissing you, you were fairly certain you wouldn’t mind anything.

The next time the two of you came up for air, he didn’t pull far enough away for you to really see him. You were just far enough apart for your lips not to be touching, but you could still feel the side of his nose pressed against yours. You could still feel his breath against your skin. The two of you were pressed so tight against each other that you could’ve sworn you could feel the way his heart was about to beat clean out of his chest.

“Shit,” the word fell from his lips in a whisper, followed by an equally soft laugh. His lips brushed against yours as he spoke. “I’m…I’m not sorry.”

You laughed at that, couldn’t help yourself do to anything but. “Good.” Your hand slid from his jaw to the back of his head. “You shouldn’t be.” Kissing him again, you let your teeth pull lightly at his bottom lip as you pulled away. “Only thing you need to be sorry for is taking so long.”

He smiled and shook his head. If the lighting had been better you were sure that you would see a blush all across his cheeks and down his neck. You’d have to settle for the mental image of it. “Didn’t see you chasing me down across any parking lots for a kiss before this either,” he rebutted with a chuckle.

“Touché.”

The humor died down out of his voice as he said, “You know how long I’ve been wanting to do that?”

You nodded, noses brushing against each other. The bridge of his glasses bumped against your forehead for a split second in the process. “I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah.”

Your bodies were pressed together so tightly that you felt it when he sucked in a quick breath. There were a million things that he wanted to say to you and he couldn’t make himself say any of them in that moment. He had his hand on your back and the taste of your kiss on his lips and yet none of the things he’d been thinking over the passing months were making it out.

The feeling of your fingers toying with the longer strands of his hair centered him enough for him to smile as he said, “At least you know that. I—oh—” He fumbled his way out of the sentence when he felt your lips on his neck.

“Bob?” you said, lips brushing against the column of his throat as you spoke.

“Y-yeah?” he stammered out, and you could feel the vibrations against your lips as he talked.

Taking one hand off of him, you reached and pulled on the handle to the back door of your car. You kissed him again, pushing both of you off the side of the car in the process. “Get in the car.”

He was far enough away that you could see the shocked look on his face. “What?”

You placed your hands on his sides, switching your positions so that he was closer to the car than you. “Car.” You kissed him. “Back seat.” Another kiss. “Now.”

“Now?” He looked around the parking lot. Full of cars but completely devoid of people. “Here?”

You laughed as you pushed him farther back, causing him to duck slightly as he went backwards into the car. “Preferably, yeah.”

“I don’t—whoa,” he fell back across your back seat, managing to brace himself on his forearms.

You shimmied in after him. Pulling the door shut behind you, you climbed on top of him, one leg between his, the other pinned between the outside of his leg and the back seat. It was close quarters, but you weren’t exactly looking to put any distance between the two of you.

Your hands landed on his shoulders, fingers curling over the curve of them as you leaned in and kissed him on the lips. Whatever reservations he’d had about your current location disappeared almost immediately once your lips caught his. His hands were on your hips for a moment. You could feel the way he tightened his grip even through the denim of your shorts. Your lips and his met over and over, each reconnection making him a little bolder.

He managed to get his thoughts together just enough to pry one hand from your hip so that he could reach up and take his glasses off. He all but tossed them up and onto the center console between the driver and passenger seats. You were smiling and about to make a comment about the action but you didn’t get the chance. He brought his hand back to you, starting off on the soft, exposed skin of your thigh. His touch was soft at first, but quickly started to change. His fingers dragged up your leg before slipping past the bottom hem of your shorts.

Your pleased gasp of surprise when you felt the pads of his fingertips over the lace of your panties was quickly smothered as he pulled your lips back to his again. His grip on your ass tightened, pushing you down harder onto his thigh and causing you to moan into his mouth.

For a split second you couldn’t believe it. All this time and Bob hadn’t been able to make a move, couldn’t believe that you wanted to fool around in the back seat of your car—that same man was now grinding you down against his thigh in a way that had you wet and clenching around nothing.

You broke the kiss to catch your breath, muttering out a quiet, needy, “Fuck,” as you continued to move along the top of his leg.

When you pulled back enough to see him, you saw the way that he was watching the movement of your hips. He didn’t take his eyes off of you, felt like he physically couldn’t tear himself away from the sight. His hold on you loosened as you found your own rhythm. A tiny whimper slipped past your lips, the sound involuntary as you savored the friction. The sound made his gaze snap back up to your face, and when he saw the want and desperation etched into your expression he thought that he was going to melt into a puddle right there on your back seat. What a way to go.

He pulled you back down into another kiss, your bodies flush practically from head to toe. Even as you continued to move against his thigh, you could feel the way he was shifting slightly, trying to get in the most comfortable position as he felt himself growing more and more aroused with each passing second. He didn’t let you pull away, though, didn’t let you put any distance between you. With you pinning his leg to the seat, Bob let his hands wander up underneath he fabric of your shirt. Suddenly it was like you felt his hands everywhere—your back, your sides, your chest. He slipped them down past the waistband of your shorts and underwear, fingers kneading the flesh of your ass in a way that with everything else had your legs starting to shake.

Bob could feel it, too. He could feel the increased sense of urgency in your movements, the way you were chasing after something and you almost had it. He was half-expecting to be woken up and find out that this was all just a dream. But not even his dreams had been this good, felt this good.

He dragged his lips off of yours, trailing them along your jaw instead. He left a string of sloppy, desperate kisses in his wake until his lips were beside your ear. One of his hands crept up your back, palm and fingertips scorching your skin in the best way.

“I meant it, you know,” his whisper came out lower than you’d ever heard, a tiny hint of a tremor to it, “when I said I’ve been wanting this—you.” He kissed below your ear, feeling the shaky breath you let out at that, at his words. “But even when I thought about it,” he kissed your jaw, “or dreamed about you,” he kissed your neck, “it wasn’t—shit—it wasn’t anything compared to this.”

Fighting the urge to bury yourself into the crook of his neck at his words, you pulled your head back. You cupped his jaw roughly in one hand and crashed your lips against his. His arms slithered around you and wrapped you tightly against him. He could still feel the slight shake in your legs.

“Bob—”

He stole another quick kiss. “I’d wait all over again for this.”

You could hear it in his voice how genuine he was being. You tried not to let yourself get distracted by his still-wandering hands, or his erection that you could still feel through his jeans. You tried to start your sentence again. “Bob, I—”

“Let me—”

“Come home with me,” you cut him off right back this time, deciding to just get to the point of what you were trying to say.

Confusion flashed across his face for a quick moment. “What?”

“Come back to my place.”

“I thought—”

“I wanna do this.” You sat up enough so that you could drag your fingertips down over his chest and stomach, even doing it over the fabric of his shirt had him starting to squirm with want. “But I’d rather do it somewhere where I don’t have to worry about smacking my head off the ceiling if I sit up all the way.”

The statement got both of you to laugh. “That’s fair.” He paused, a smirk on his face as he said, “Car was your idea, though.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m feeling a little impatient. Sue me.”

He pulled you into another kiss, one that every time you thought it was over he’d pull you back in all over again. As much as you wanted to get him back to your apartment and laid out on your bed, you also knew that you’d spend as much time as he wanted to doing exactly what you were doing right now. Anything to keep him this close now that you had him there.

When he released you from the kiss, he looked up at you with that same smile, that same slightly dazed look to in his eyes. Like he couldn’t believe this was happening. You couldn’t really believe it either. You couldn’t believe that any of it was happening at all, but you were also having a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that Bob Floyd, the same man who could barely make eye contact with you at the bar the first time you all went out together, was the same man who looked like he was about to try and strategize how to best make use of your back seat so he wouldn’t have to wait to get back to your apartment.

“I live less than ten minutes from here,” you said, already knowing what he was going to say.

His hands moved around to the front of you, fingers just barely curled over into the front of your waistband. You pretended not to notice the way he was toying with the button of your shorts. “Thought you had things to do tomorrow?”

You laughed, leaning in and kissing him. “I still do. Now they’re just,” you ran your hand lightly over the crotch of his jeans, enough pressure to get him to buck into you, “different things.” You giggled quietly at the purposeful breath he sucked in. Reaching over, you grabbed his glasses for him. “C’mon. You can ride shotgun.”

He propped himself up by his forearms again as you untangled yourself from him. “What if—”

You couldn’t help but to laugh as you stopped his sentence short. “Little late to get shy now.”

He smiled, face starting to turn red. “Right.”

The only thing that passed between the two of you were knowing looks and soft laughter as you scrambled out and into the front seats of the car. It wasn’t until you were pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road that you spoke up again, trying not to be too distracted by Bob’s hand creeping higher and higher up on your thigh.

“So,” you looked over at him for a second before returning your attention to the road, “you dreamt about me?”

His head dropped back against the headrest and you couldn’t help but to laugh at his faux exasperation. He gave your thigh a squeeze. You were expecting a joke, one of the witty little comebacks that he had a way of finding in the right moments, but instead he let himself be serious as he said, “Yeah, I did.”

The three words hung in the air between you, and you felt the butterflies that you’d been too busy to feel before in the heat and the rush of everything else. You could feel the way that Bob was looking at you while you looked at the road.

“How much longer?” he asked.

You laughed, sparing him a glance. “Six minutes, tops.”

He nodded, fingertips grazing up and down your thigh, goosebumps breaking out over your skin despite how warm your car was with its still-fogged-up windows. “Six minutes.”

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd x you #x reader #x reader fic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc #bob floyd fanfiction

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peachypinkygloss · 10 months

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Hii babes! 💗 Congrats on the milestone, for my request can I have Jungkook who kidnapped oc and is fucking her Infront of the TV where it shows her missing? Dumbification please! thank you love <33 💕

hello baby!! 🤍 o.m.g i gotta say I am baffled, BUT IN A GOOD WAY! how didn't I think of this myself 😪 love u, mwah 💋 x

crafting new memories

You're his and nothing else matters.

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: smut

warnings: stockholm syndrome, dub-con, dumbification, unprotected sex, 900 words.

a.n.: ok sorry but I needed to put fluff, you guys know me. nothing's better than twisted fluff 🫣 you know the drill: don't like, don't read 🫶🏻

This is part of my 2k milestone celebration! Here is the post for the drabble game! 🤍

♡・2k celebration masterlist・♡

It doesn't do anything to you anymore. All those strangers, those people that you didn't really know before, crying and asking you to come back home used to make you cry, too.

Your eyes would become watery, your hands would shake and your heart would beat louder in your chest. It didn't really matter who they were, all you knew was that people were mourning you as if you were actually dead.

You wanted to call your mother, tell her that you're fine, that you're still alive, that she doesn't need to worry. But it doesn't feel so necessary anymore.

The news only mentions you when they're talking about other missing people because it's been too long now. They've stopped showing your parents and they've stopped updating everyone on the police investigation. They've just stopped searching for you.

You're the past now and they're living in the present. They've moved on, and so have you.

You're embarrassed to say it, but it was easy to do. It was easy to turn the pages and finally close the book of your previous life. It's terrible how the man who took you away is the very same one who also gave you a new life.

A new home, a new heart.

It's incredible how he's managed to make you forget by just replacing the old memories with new ones. He crafted them for you. With his words, with his hands, with his lips, he created every thought of yours so the old ones would never come back haunting you.

"Feels good, baby?" Jungkook whispers above you, his hips thrusting in.

"Yes," you softly moan and grab onto him, passing your arms around his shoulders.

You keep him against you as he fucks you lovingly, breathing onto your face, hovering over you with his hands on each side of your head.

You can faintly hear the sound of the TV playing, someone stating the daily news. Jungkook takes a hold of your jaw and makes you turn your head to the side, your blurry eyes laying on the TV's screen.

You think you hear your name, but you're not sure. Your mind is fuzzy, clouded with thoughts about Jungkook and only Jungkook. You squint your eyes as the picture of someone familiar appears on the screen but you're too distracted by his cock entering and exiting your wet pussy.

You don't understand why he forces you to look, his large hand keeping your head in place. "Do you recognize her?" He asks, his lips brushing against your skin, his nose pressing down on your face.

You feel like you're going to suffocate, but you don't dislike the feeling, not at all. You love being so close to him that it becomes difficult to breathe, difficult to think.

"Is it... me?" You frown, another moan ripping out of you as he pounds you onto the couch, not missing a beat.

"It was," he answers breathily. "But not anymore. You're mine, now," he says and makes you face him again, your lips centimetres away from his. "Only mine, right, baby?"

"Yes," you agree without hesitation and Jungkook chuckles, a beautiful sound that makes your stomach flutter.

"Yeah," he grins, biting down on his lip. "It's the only thing you can say, too dumb to think for yourself," he mocks you, but you know there's no mean intention behind it.

He just finds you adorable, loves how pretty you look under him, totally in bliss.

"My stupid little girl." He trails kisses down your neck and over your breasts, perky nipples pointing at him. "What would you do without me, hm? You poor little thing," he coos, still smooching the tender skin of your neck.

"Jungkook, please," you beg, getting a bit impatient, clit pulsating. "Need to cum," you whine and tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging on it so he looks at you.

He groans at your neediness, leaving the crook of your neck to connect his eyes with yours. "My baby wants to cum around my cock? Is that what she wants?" He questions, even though he knows that's what you're asking for, pussy clenching helplessly around him.

"Please." You nod repeatedly, twisting his hair between your fists.

Jungkook smiles sweetly and pecks your lips, slowing the pace of his hips. "Everything my baby wants."

He sneaks his tattooed hand between your two bodies and reaches your puffy, swollen clit. He does quick circular motions on your bud with his thumb, picking up his pace again.

You moan out, showing him how good it feels, the knot in your stomach tightening. "I love you, Jungkook," you admit, even though he already knows.

Your pussy clenches around him and he has a hard time focusing on anything else than his cock sliding in your cunt. "Shit, me too, I-" he cuts himself off, looking down where your bodies connect. "I love you too, baby," he mutters under his breath, feeling his balls tightening.

You whine into his ear and he could get off just at the sound of you. He keeps going, fucking you until his thighs begin to shake and he has to steady his hips against yours.

"Fuck," he curses, releasing himself inside of you, painting your walls white with his cum.

It's shortly after that your orgasm passes through you, sweet moans escaping your mouth, walls quivering around him. Jungkook takes his time to pamper you in kisses, staying inside of you a bit more, lazily thrusting in.

"Mine," he repeats so you don't forget, but there's no need to.

You'll never leave him.

#🍑 [drabble game]#requests #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfiction

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greenfiend · 1 month

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The Significance of Lover’s Lake and Byler (Theory) Part 2

Sequel to this post

(Warning: mentions of sex and drugs)

Okay so first of all, if you haven’t seen my previous post on my theory involving Lovers Lake and Byler, please read it first. I go over my theory and predictions for Byler and the heart shaped lake. This is a secondary post to it, outlining some VERY interesting details involving the owner of the lakeside house, the lakeside house itself, and all the romantic and sexual elements present. I’m saving the best for last here.

Let’s start with the owner of the lakeside house.

Reefer Rick

So I recently made a silly post arguing that the most queer coded character in Stranger Things is not Mike nor Will (nor Robin, Henry, Eddie etc), and I stand by this statement. The most queer coded character is: Reefer Rick. Now, I know we never see the guy, but literally all the information we have on him is either queer coding or drug references.

Synonyms of his name are literally f*g Dick, with a shared last name with the famous tea company founder who so happens to have been a homosexual: Lipton.

We know he doesn’t have a family, thus he’s a single man who occasionally has his buddy/fellow dealer Eddie stay over. Hm, not very heterosexual of him.

Then we have his movie list.

Now, as many of us know, the movie “Fast Times” is used within Stranger Things as a way to gage if someone is attracted to women or not. We have Steve, Dustin, Lucas, and Vickie all confirmed to have enjoyed this movie… specifically for that shot at 53 minutes and 5 seconds. Sure, Reefer Rick rented the film, but why is it the only movie he rented that was returned on time? For context, he’s the only character who had films listed as “late” returns. So, he obviously enjoyed Cheech & Chong a lot more. Two guys doing drugs is more interesting to him than a sexy lady. Okay, noted.

Now, how is he perceived by the people of Hawkins?

Oooof. Okay. He’s not well liked it seems. He apparently is causing some fear and anger amongst the Hawkins residents. Kind of similar of a reaction these people would have towards an openly gay man during the 1980s.

Also I have to include @/conflictofthemind ‘s excellent point that injectable drug use and unprotected sex (specifically between two men) were both commonly associated with HIV/AIDS… a major epidemic during the 80s and a major subtextual theme within the show.

Now, where’s this guy live while outside of jail?

I don’t blame the guy for “hiding” when the town is not too fond of him. Of course he is a drug dealer so there’s that as well. But interesting they used the word “hide”, which has been associated with queerness within the show already (plus this line was said by Robin (featured in the middle of the shot!!!) who is queer herself).

(Both of these screenshots are from 1x02 interestingly enough.)

Wouldn’t it make sense for these two “hiders” to hide out in “a perfect place to hide” together? Seeking refuge in a fellow gay man’s secluded house?

I will say it’s also worth noting that he does not have any women featured on the walls within his house. Also, he has a phallic shaped bong (we’ll get back to that soon).

Phew okay so that’s Reefer Rick. Are you still with me? Hopefully I didn’t bore any of you with this. I promise you this all leads back to Byler.

So, moving on to his house.

So as @/therainscene kindly pointed out, this poster with the smiley face can be related to rave culture and ecstasy in the 1980s. So a drug reference, in a drug dealer’s house… shocker I know. But I gotta say, ecstasy is also a term often related to sex. I also have to add this little tidbit from one of our favourite directors of Stranger Things, Shawn Levy. Keep in mind, he knows what’ll happen in the next season… and he’s directing episodes after 3 and 4…

Interesting word choice, no?

So, back to the symbolism within (and near) the house.

Let’s talk about the phallic symbolism that appears in pairs in these shots. It’s a choice, isn’t it? With two males in each shot. We know the Duffers love details and foreshadowing… I doubt it’s a coincidence. Also, anyone else notice that phone in the background? Just had to mention it, since our boys are frequently associated with phones and calls.

Then, of course, I gotta bring back this shot.

The bed. Blue meets yellow. You know it! We all heard it a thousand times by now. Let’s look at what else is in the shot. A closed closet. Another reference to our boys. To the right, you’ll see a toilet paper roll. Now, if you have a brother, you might see the same thing in his room. Sure it can be used as a tissue for your nose but let’s just say there’s usually another use for it. I’ll call it “self love”. So, basically, another sexual reference.

To sum up this house: lake/water, drugs, and ecstasy/smiley face. Now, let’s go back to a scene featuring our boys with all these elements in the background.

Makes you wonder doesn’t it?

I must also point out the “Paris” poster in the background. City of love, anyone? Plus the fireworks. They’re really trying to tell us something here.

Also, @/foodiewithdahoodie pointed out how Paris specifically was one of the first places to decriminalize sodomy.

You know, I also wouldn’t rule out every aspect of Murray’s prediction here.

Shout out to the Hylers out there!

Perhaps after a lot of stressful days of fighting interdimentional demons, these boys want to wind down and de-stress in their hiding spot. I can see Reefer Rick as a fellow Nintendo player, leaving his console behind, as well as his weed, for our boys to use. I also wouldn't be surprised if Eddie left a few of his beers behind. I mean… Murray has a pretty good track record for predictions. This would also really double down on the message that Mike and Will “aren’t kids anymore.”

Also, wouldn’t it be fun to look back at Murray’s predictions and realize that they’ve all come to be?

Okay, now let’s finally get to the romance elements!

First thing I want to start with is this shot:

So… they had to show us a mailbox, didn’t they? With that name “Lipton” which as I mentioned in my previous post… is associated with Thomas Lipton who had a lover named William Love.

1 point for #lettergate

And…

“Hope Our Love Lives/Lasts And Never Dies”

WWII solders used the acronym H.O.L.L.A.N.D. to convey a love message in a letter. The whole love letters association with Mike and Will never end, do they?

2 points for #lettergate!

As for the “2121”, I think it’s possible that it’s referencing multiple things… number references are tricky like that in my opinion. But I will say that @/thestrangestthing89 brought up the fact that “2121” could be a reference to “Twin Flames” which is yet another reference to romance.

Continuing on with the romance…

Let’s return back to the scene where Reefer Rick is first mentioned. After Max mentioned him, we are cut to Steve talking about a movie.

A movie filled with action and romance, you say?

So… Doctor Zhivago.

Basically a tale of two people in love during a difficult time (Russian Revolution) being separated, with other people, then finally reunited. Not completely unlike our boys. Notice how the “adult” sign is noticeable in the background. Not kids anymore.

He mentions action, which I’m sure there will be some of as well at the famous lake.

Okay enough with the silly details, let’s stop and look at the bigger picture.

Our beloved lake. Look how gorgeous it truly is. Plus the fact that it’s a literal heart? You can’t get more “on the nose” than that.

Now, who else is known as a heart? (Tough question I know…)

This boy is, without a doubt, narratively tied to the lake. He is “the heart”… he is THE LAKE (symbolically).

Thank you to @/everaster for bringing attention to the fact that after Mike was pushed to deliver that monologue to El by Will, Max “died”, then the gates opened WIDE. One of those gates, as we know, is located within Lover’s Lake… known was “watergate” (term coined by Dustin).

So, as of now in this story… Lover’s Lake is literally broken in two. A broken heart in need of mending.

Who better to accomplish that task than the boy who has known him for a decade and loves him completely and selflessly?

💌📬❤️‍🩹

Hope you enjoyed these posts as much as I enjoyed making them! It’s honestly so much fun looking for evidence and finding such interesting stuff. Some of it may be reaching, and that’s okay because it’s all in good fun! That’s what fandoms are all about.

The level of attention to detail in this show never ceases to amaze me! There’s so much depth and clues to look for and play around with. I hope to have sparked some inspiration and creativity for some people! 💛💙💚

As always, would love to know your thoughts!

#Byler #loverslakegate #lovers lake #stranger things #stranger things 5 #Mike wheeler #Will Byers #byler theory

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fatesundress · 1 year

Text

⭑ observations ii. tom riddle x reader

part i here.

summary. two weeks after your last encounter with tom shatters all of your previous observations, tensions are high, and eventually, something's gotta give. (it's tom. he’s giving head)

tags. smut (so. so much. minors BE GONE TO WHENCE YOU CAME!), fem anatomy + reader is referred to as a woman by someone, fingering, cunnilingus, piv, again implied tall!tom or short!reader (take it however you prefer), jealous tom does not understand friendship but then again neither does reader apparently, a little wine is had, the room of requirement is used shamelessly as a plot device, did i mention smut, i’ve lost my mind etc etc.

note. this is a part two, so go ahead and read the first part and come back if you'd like :) obligatory preface: it's safe to assume any smut i write within hogwarts is a university au — these people are all 18+ tyvm. also woahh was not expecting the love on my last post so thank you! i'm still trying to figure this whole acc out so support, questions, (requests? never done those before) anything is appreciated ♡

word count. 6.3k

The next two weeks are agony. You don’t, in fact, stop meeting with Godefrey to study, because you do, in fact, still need a good mark in Ancient Runes and for all his faults he can reach the tallest shelves and he’s a faster writer than you. Also, Tom Riddle is fantastic with his hands but this does not make him God.

You find pureblood politics a bit archaic. You find muggle courting a bit stifling. This leaves very little space for what took place between you and Tom in the middle of a corridor two weeks ago (you can’t stop wincing at how insane that sounds) and very little patience for his utterly original and not-at-all entitled request that you halt your studies with Godefrey. Godefrey doesn’t stick his hands up your skirts while the two of you are studying, doesn’t silence your gasps with a shush and a finger to your mouth, doesn’t — wouldn’t (you’re so imaginative when you want to be) — tell you to keep reading as his thumb draws circles between your legs, tell you to repeat the words that get caught in your throat, tell you how much he likes it when your eyes go dumb and glassy and all you can say is his name. So, really, Tom should have nothing to worry about.

“I swear,” Selwyn says, picking at a plate you don’t think she’s actually eaten anything off with how distracted she is, “he’s looked over here at least three times.”

You don’t dare glance at who you know she’s talking about. “You’re obsessed.”

Pot. Kettle. Whatever.

“Are you sure you didn’t do something to upset him in Potions? Didn’t botch something that might mar his perfect record?”

You flick her forehead and she scowls. “I’m not an idiot, Selwyn. I handle myself just as well in Potions as he does — he wouldn’t —” Wouldn’t have complimented your rapport if that weren’t true, wouldn’t have said you communicate efficiently, make a good pair, probably wouldn’t have — fingered you in the hallway? — yes, that too. Slipped your mind. So easy to forget.

You take a long exhale, and smile impassively at her. “I didn’t botch anything, trust me.”

She finally takes a bite of food. “Maybe I did something…”

And then she’s lost in thought again, eating now, at least, and you shake your head softly as you watch what are likely a million different theories flitting through her head.

“Morning,” Tom says to you when you enter Potions after breakfast, a delicate smile tugging at his lips.

You have, of course, trained for this.

It’s your fifth — sixth? — time sharing a table with him since that night and it is somehow easier by nature and harder by anticipation (of what, you have no idea) every time. The first was terrible. Unsalvageable and without a silver lining. It had taken almost an hour that morning to charm the violent hues of red and purple spanning the column of your throat, and ultimately, the marks were so persistent you’d forgone the glamours and decided to just wear a turtleneck. You’d been fortunate it was completely inconspicuous to wear such a thing in December, but that was about all there’d been to be grateful for. You hadn’t been able to look at Tom all class and his hand had brushed yours once to take a phial from you and you’d flinched so sharply it would have shattered on the floor if he hadn’t caught it. And he’d smiled, like he’s smiling now, a soft, “Careful,” that honestly, for a short moment, made you want him dead.

Now you could speak just fine, look him in the eyes in practised intervals, and almost, impressively, make articulate conversation with him again. Make stupid comments about Slughorn and Lestrange and bear the weight of his grin knowing it was there for you.

His, he’d called you. A very funny thing.

“Morning,” you answer on a smiling sigh, sleepy but jovial all the same.

You deserve applause for this.

“Tired?”

“Mhm — Essays for Ancient Runes are due Friday and it’s been keeping us up all night.”

His eyes flash with something you’ve yet to ascertain. Your research has been put temporarily on hold, scattered and splintered by the revelation that your first observation was, admittedly, a little bit off, and you have no means of figuring out a look like that when you can’t even begin to figure out anything else.

“Has it?” he asks, a tinge less friendly.

“Well,” you say, grinding the lacewing flies, “that’s commonplace, isn’t it? You take all sorts of advanced classes, I’m sure you understand the work it takes.”

“...Hm.”

That’s it. That’s all you get from him.

And if Selwyn’s concern over you botching your work in Potions wasn’t already, obviously dispelled, the glee on Slughorn’s face as he assesses your and Tom’s cauldron should do it.

“Brilliant! Just brilliant!” He claps a hand over Tom’s back, regarding you both with pride so thick it clouds his eyes, like he's drifted into a revery of the future (you and Tom, you expect, are his most prized graduates, making history under his name, proving his immense wisdom) before he appears to return to Earth. “Ten points between the two of you, hm? Very, very good — though, of course, no surprises there!”

He chuckles to himself as he evaluates the other students, and you catch a horrified wheeze of Godefrey’s name (bless his heart) as one of the cauldrons in the back begins to sputter and froth.

You look to Tom with some droll little comment at making it to the end of term with top marks, but his gaze is burning into Godefrey’s table in such a way you wouldn’t be surprised if it was what was causing his cauldron to boil.

Well. Perhaps not, then.

You and Godefrey hand in your essay that Friday with more relief than apprehension — you both decide it’s quite good — and you laugh loudly and breathlessly as he picks you up and thanks you a thousand times, spinning you until you’re dizzy. You refrain from making any promises to attend his Quidditch games, but he vows to let you have the snitch he catches.

And Slughorn, you come to find, was not exaggerating his elation at your skill. After trotting after you on your walk back from Ancient Runes to invite you to the last Slug Club dinner of the year, your spirits are high with the blissful satisfaction of a job well done and a night to celebrate it with.

You can breathe, finally, when it’s the last week of school before Christmas break and Selwyn’s zipping the back of a last-minute dress you purchased in Hogsmeade.

“Gorgeous,” Selwyn says with a grin. “Wish this school would have a bloody ball so I could really dress you up.”

“Buy a doll, Selwyn; you can dress them however you like.”

“You are such a —”

You burst into laugher, swatting her wand away as she pokes your side with it.

“Just — go then, before I hex you.”

“All right, all right!” you concede, arms raised in surrender. “Don’t ruin all your hard work now.”

“Oh,” she calls on your way out the door. You turn and there’s a mischievous look in her eyes as she tucks her wand back in her pocket. “And do tell me before I leave tomorrow if Riddle stares at you all night.”

You groan as if it’s a truly abominable thing to imagine. Riddle, staring with those dark eyes of his? You, the centre of his attention? Ghastly. You daresay you’d never recover from the horror of it.

“Don’t leave before I tell you how remarkably uneventful a night it was,” you say with a sidelong glare, and leave before she can edge in the final word.

You have no idea what a Slug Club supper typically consists of, but you imagine for Christmas he’s gone a little further with his festivities. His office is glittering in hues of green and red and fleecy, snow-dappled gold. The lights overheard (some similar charm to the one in the Great Hall but a tad less complex, you think) drip and then vanish into the air like squeezed berries, and the berries — served with pastries and ice cream — taste like they must be enchanted with something.

Selwyn was right that the standard dress isn’t quite formal enough for a ball, but it’s… formal. The boys are in clean-cut dress robes and the girls are in fine gowns of different lengths. By the overwhelming number of them you recall being archetypes of Slytherin pureblood fanaticism, it makes sense how expensive they all look. You yourself brush up nicely, if not a bit more frugally, but you haven’t been to an event like this at the school yet, and that’s exciting on its own.

It’s another degree of training (is there going to be a marathon? Are you at war?), a step up from your preparations before Potions every other day, to be ready when Tom Riddle enters the room a respectable five minutes late with a gleam about him more captivating than any of the lights.

“Ah, Tom!” Slughorn exclaims, and ushers him into a seat you remark before Tom is even in it is discomfitingly near to yours. “We’re all here at last… Supper, then? Hope you aren’t too full already, I’ve got the House Elves running laps!”

You’re spared Tom’s closeness by a Ravenclaw couple sat in the chairs between you, their hands clasped under the table while they sip wine from their goblets, and you only realise the length of your observation when Tom glances at you from the spot over, and you startle yourself into reaching for your own goblet and pretending to enjoy Slughorn’s bitter wine.

You eat. You listen to cluttered, unending tales of Slughorn’s time at school and how he earned his post. You drink, and then you regret not drinking before eating because there’s only a very light, very nice buzz that warms you when you finish your cup, and the Ravenclaw couple is — oh, wait, it isn’t just them — they’re standing up to dance as a gramophone sparks to life and a low, dulcet instrumental begins to play. There are now two notably empty seats separating you from Tom.

What had you said this night would be? Blissful satisfaction?

You couldn’t blame Selwyn for suggesting you’d blundered Potions — you didn’t feel exceptionally smart right now.

“I didn’t know you would be here tonight,” Tom says, pulling the chair beside you.

Where is the bottle of wine? No. Nevermind. You behave regrettably enough sober.

You manage a simple, “And yet.”

“...And yet.” His lips quirk before he takes a drink from his goblet.

You lament for a second that you’ve only actually kissed those lips once. They spent a great deal longer on your neck.

“Will you be here over break?” he asks, and it isn’t an unreasonable thing to ask, you suppose.

“I think so. Why?”

“I’d like to know whether to expect you or not.”

Expect you… No, yes — revert to observation two: unusual is not an apt enough word for him.

It takes you a moment to conjure a response befitting polite dinner conversation. That is, after all, still what this is.

“I suppose you can. I’ll be busy, of course.”

Well, you didn’t say you conjured something good. It’s a big fat lie. Placating, vague, empty. And you suspect Tom knows that.

“Pity.”

Yes, he knows. He’s all quiet amusement again.

You stare off, satisfied to be left alone —

"And what is it that'll be taking so much of your time?"

“Well, I'm —” And now you have to build the lie — “I’ve told Godefrey I’ll attend to his Quidditch practise. Since the pitch isn’t in use.”

God, it’s so stupid it’s almost impressive — you don’t even know if Godefrey will be here over break, and you could have chosen any number of excuses that would pique Tom’s interest less than it’s apparently consistently piqued by the mention of your study partner.

There’s that strange, indecipherable look again. Riddle is a perfect surname for him, you decide then, and you almost laugh at yourself for it, but that would probably not go over well should he ask what’s so funny.

“Have you, now? That’s very kind of you.”

“It’s hardly charity.”

“Hm, it’s kind of you to think so.”

You huff, tipping your goblet back to swallow the last meagre dregs of your wine.

“You look lovely.”

It’s just a little bit — just a tiny, straggling little bit of elderflower that captures your throat — and you cough into your goblet. “Thank — thank you.”

And, well, he looks lovely too. Obviously. Sickeningly so. You know little about his personal life but you’re positive he’s at least a half-blood, if not muggle-born, and it makes you wonder the influence of his renownedly plain black suit in a crowd of neat, long robes.

He manages with little effort to look better than all of them at their best.

His eyes drift over you appreciatively, quick enough not to be rude but — enough. (Enough that you daresay you might never recover from the horror of it.) You adjust under his gaze even when it’s situated on your face, far too heavy a thing for you to carry. “Does Godefrey call you lovely?”

What?

You blink at him, your mouth is probably open and you probably look stupid but he’s so… irritating. Yes, of course Godefrey calls you lovely. Godefrey tells you you’re the smartest woman he’s ever met (after his mother), and he drowns you with sherbet lemons at no cost, and he writes at the speed of light to match the quickness with which you recite your textbook, and none of it means anything. Tom is just —

“Unbelievable…”

He quirks a brow. “What was that?”

“I said you’re unbelievable, Riddle. Is it impossible for you to comprehend that I might have friends? That Godefrey is my friend?”

“Well, memory serves me right that you seemed a bit confused on the conventions of friendship last you mentioned it. Do forgive my uncertainty.”

He — that was —

“Well, that’s because we are not friends.”

“No.” He leans in. “We are not.”

You push your chair from the table with all the grace you can manage for such an abrupt thing: a tight, impersonal smile on your face as you walk away and approach Slughorn, only realising when you get there that your empty goblet is clutched in your hand like you’re trying to strangle it.

Whatever he sees on your face, he isn’t drunk enough not to frown at. “Ah, our newest gem — hardly seen you all night! Not leaving already, are we?”

You glance at the clock. It isn’t as though you’re being impolite by abandoning his party in the middle of the event. It’s quite late, the servers are stuck to the walls with little to do, and most of the room has divided into waltzing pairs.

“I’m taking my friend to the train station tomorrow, sir. Unfortunately I need to be up quite early.”

Yes, yes, it’s all so tragic. You’re depressed to go.

“Such a shame,” Slughorn frets, wobbling a tad and balancing himself on the wall. “You’ll be all right getting back? Not at all dizzy, are you?” His laugh is cleaved by a loud hiccough, and then he laughs even more. “My, well, I myself will need to be carried!”

“...I’ll be fine, sir. Thank you.”

“Oh, no trouble at all — there’s — hm… ah, Tom!”

No, no — is it bad you almost reach over and slap your palm over your professor’s mouth? Is it at all impressive that you don’t? You should look on the bright side in moments like these. You should admire your restraint.

But of course, Slughorn’s eyes don’t fall upon Tom for nothing. He's halfway across the room already, and Slughorn must have spotted him approaching to achieve this brilliant solution. “Tom can escort you back, no?”

Tom (unforgivably) is beside you now, a very mean, very pretty smile on his face.

“Not too much to ask, I should think? You know the castle best. Head Boy — sometimes I still can’t believe it!”

You look up at Tom and your jaw is clenched where you’ve since put down your goblet. There is too much tension in you to know what to do with, and he looks positively thrilled.

“It’s hardly charity, sir.” He holds out his arm.

You wonder what spell would catch him most off-guard if you were to blast him in the face right now.

Slughorn claps his hands together. “Ha! Yes, well… perfect, then! Off now, the two of you, off now. Do have a good — ” He hiccoughs again — “rest!”

You don’t even bother the diplomacy of smiling at Slughorn as your arm loops through Tom’s and you’re exiting the party.

Neither of you say a word on the journey, and that’s very well.

If you could just get back to bed without speaking to him you may still consider it a good night. You may be able to push his strangeness and his entitlement and the annoying way his hair falls to another day, when he pesters you about Godefrey’s nonexistent Quidditch practise, which — come to think of it — you do think he told you he'd be headed home for the holidays. You really fumbled that one.

And then Tom’s thumb is brushing the bare skin of your arm and your walk stutters a bit. But he doesn’t mention it, and so neither do you.

And then he’s drawing down your elbow to your forearm so softly it almost feels like he isn’t touching you at all. He doesn’t mention it. Neither do you.

And then your arm, without really meaning for it to, is slipping from his and his hand is holding yours instead, feather-light as his fingers clasp yours and your breath is not the same as it was when you left.

He doesn’t mention it. He just keeps going.

His fingers work back up your arm and you shiver as they drag across your shoulder, gaze searing your neck as the soft digits find their way to your jaw, and you get the sense he’s remembering just how much he liked the taste of it, and you’re… you’re allowing it all again. You’re leaning in, you’re seeking him out, you want him flush against you and even that might not be satisfactory.

You are, in the end, a half-decent observer and a terrible liar.

You’re grabbing his hand with a small amount of direction and a great deal of meaning. You suppose it's because, historically, you’ve proven to have trouble with words in moments like these, and you don’t really know where you’re taking him but god, you know where you want him. Somewhere soft, this time, thick enough that you can fist your hands around it and melt. Somewhere he can hover over you, maybe hold you down a little, just until — maybe, miraculously — you might make him break a little too. Clamber over his lap. Make him yours.

“Tom,” you mouth, some question in the way your eyebrows knit.

The moment you say his name — the instant — he’s pulling you in, crushing his mouth against yours. And, ah, right, that’s what his lips feel like. You’d almost forgotten.

This kiss is not chaste, hardly tender. It resists in that it asks you to push, to plead, to take this for yourself to prove how badly you want it, and he smiles into it when you do. And then, sated by your efforts, he lets you have him. You’re gripping the collar of his suit in your hands as his wander appreciatively over the back of your dress, pulling you into him as the kiss deepens. He’s savouring you like you’re something religious that’s been offered to him, and there’s the taste of wine on his tongue and you’re still here, aware enough that the symbolism isn’t lost on you.

“I've been thinking," he says between kisses, “about the way you felt when I touched you. I've been thinking about how long it might take before you need it again."

You gasp at the sensation, and god, god, you've been wondering too, haven't you?

You’re pulling him impossibly closer and something hard is pressing into your hip and you clutch tighter onto his shirt as you moan into his mouth. You need it off, you think, and — has your dress been clinging to you like this all night? You need that off too. You need skin on skin. You careen him backwards without aim, your mind a muddled mess of all the many things your body is screaming it needs, like this is fucking imperative; to give it up would be catastrophic.

You suppose, based on what you’ve read, that that’s how the Room of Requirement works, but it’s still funny to think it would apply to this.

It hurts to remove yourself from him to watch in dumb awe as the door forms in the stone (to see the dark, languid shape of his eyes bearing down on you, the wet, stained pink of his lips), and Tom seems to recover from the revelation much faster than you.

His mouth is on yours once more, a hungry kiss; his free hand at your waist, guiding you through the door and shutting it carelessly behind him.

He’s like fire against you, radiating as he presses down on you, his hand tangled in your hair and his hips flush against yours. You shiver as his mouth starts to move down (a cheap trick — he hasn’t forgotten how much you liked it the last time) from your jaw to your throat, as his lips trail down your chest and you're shivering into the warmth of him.

You’ve heard it said before, in some romantic sense, that it’s sometimes hard to tell where you end and someone else begins.

This is not like that.

You've never been more aware of anything than the point where you and him meet.

You’re tugging at him blindly again, trusting in the nature of the Room like this isn't the first time you've been in it, and then you're stumbling down onto a bed you're quite sure wasn't there a moment ago (people say magic is a neutral force but evidently this is not the fucking case), fingers carding through Tom's hair as his body pins you into the mattress.

His mouth is molten hot as you squirm and pant beneath him, your breath coming faster than it ever has. Everything feels sharper and deeper and more intense under his touch, every sensation heightened until it's almost impossible to tell pleasure from pain, his tongue from his teeth.

How did it take you this long to do this again? To need him like this?

And his — you should really have the mind to see the mistake in all of this but perhaps that's for later — his fingers are pulling your sleeves down, propping your back to arch as he reaches under you to unzip your dress, apparently too impatient to sit you up and take it off properly so he just bunches it around your waist instead. There’s a moment where he stops to look at you, your chest exposed to him in the dim sconce-light, and then his mouth returns to circle your breast and you're biting down on a pillow to hold back the whimpering gasp that seeks to escape you. He hums around your flesh, and then he’s at your sternum, kissing a stripe to your belly button before pushing past the dress he's left ringed around your abdomen.

You shimmy under the weight of him to prop your head up — to see past the mass of silk that obscures his face from you as moves lower and lower, hands spanning your hips to keep you still.

His face hovers above your thighs, and he doesn’t move.

“Did you enjoy my fingers?" he asks.

At that you freeze, thighs pressing together to bury the hand that's rising between them.

Tom smiles. “Hm, you did."

And then he spreads your legs apart, one hand pushing your underwear aside and regarding you with delicate, shameless appetite — something that might even be adoration: like this is all he ever wanted you to want.

“Do you think you'd enjoy my mouth, too?"

Words are gone. There's nothing left in you.

His head moves happily between your knees, holding them apart, pressing kisses to the base of your thighs. Your hands flail from the sheets, desperate to grip something else and you hold back a sound that feels like irritation and need at the same time. You need him closer, higher than this. He knows. You can feel his smile biting into your skin.

And then you manage a nod though you're not even sure he's looking at your face anymore (and what a picture to imagine he is) and you worry momentarily it won’t be enough for him — that he’ll ask you to be nice and say it out loud for him — but he hums with something merciful, and — his chin dips. You catch the smallest glimpse of his tongue before it’s on you, wet and slow and unrelenting and you say his name, but it’s a mewl; you choke on it. It sounds like a cry.

Pitiful, needy, undone. Just how he wants you.

You think all efforts to remain even remotely composed are thrown to the wind as soon as his tongue is lapping at you, fast and then slow, everything you want and not even remotely close. He sinks all his weight down as if he can predict the moment you'll writhe before you do — and you do. And with his grip he tells you to endure it. You only need him to say it with his hands and his mouth but he breathes back, licking his lips and he actually says it. “Be good.”

That makes your breath hitch and your cheeks swell impossibly hotter, and reality is a small glint in your peripheral where everything else is burning red. “Y-you’re—”

His mouth returns to you, tongue catching your clit in a drawn-out, agonising motion, and you gasp and lurch forward to inch through the sensation, craving more, more, more. Reason is lost on you, a throbbing familiarity forcing you to grind your teeth down on the pillow to stop yourself from telling him to — you don’t even know. Finish you. Abandon all reluctance. Just let you come as hard as you know he wants you to.

But he pauses, observant as he starts to work his fingers against you. Watching how your slick coats them like it’s the most enthralling sight he’s ever witnessed. Slowly, ever so slowly, he starts to push one inside of you, hearing your breath catch above him and the moan that comes tumbling out of your throat, pillow be damned.

You do your best to breathe through it, and you know he knows how to make you unfold like this, so the meticulous lightness of his ministrations tells you he’s trying to keep it from you now. You’re almost embarrassed about the fact that you’re dripping onto his hand regardless; his lips puffy, his gaze unnervingly, dizzyingly carving you in two.

“Just,” you rasp, clutching desperately at his wrist. “Tom, please.”

Your begging must be music to his ears. (It’s a rare, unplanned fifth observation: that you think he’ll never get tired of hearing you say his name like that.)

He adds a finger. It’s encircling you, first, and no amount of restraint can stop the harsh gasp that leaves you, but then it’s his tongue and two fingers and he’s pushing into you how you wanted, and he makes a pleased sound against you, gripping you tighter with his free hand, still not allowing you movement and fuck, are you trying. What you're feeling now — the need, the want, everything — is more than rational thought. Your mind goes blank, and all that matters is this, him, right here and now; nothing else exists, not even for a second. You moan, a low, throaty noise that's a little too loud, a little too intense; you can't recall if anything has ever come from you quite like it and Tom devours you at the sound.

More, you agree; it's almost an obsession in you now; more, more, please, anything and everything.

It’s the precision of his touch — not some bored, hurried transgression — that brings your hands helplessly to his hair.

“Tom,” you whine, holding him tight, and the purr of his mouth finding you again is something destructive.

As soon as you feel another swell of something deep down, your mouth is dropping open.

His tongue is sliding through you, fingers curling, and then your clit is in his mouth, and he’s watching you between your thighs as your eyes clench shut, and you’re coming.

Your voice breaks somewhere in the catastrophe of it. Your body spasms, electric down to every atom, and he pins you down through it. He doesn’t grant you the reprieve of escaping the frenzied, glorious torture of it. His mouth still lingers. His tongue moves thankful and unrelenting.

He takes all of you, and you think this is destruction — creation — both. How terrifyingly similar they suddenly feel.

His lips are swollen and slick when he finally detaches them from you and you want to kiss him, but he’s leaning back to admire his work. You swallow, unable to blame him for it because you look down at yourself and — this is something else. You’re dripping down his chin. You're shaking. Your legs are still clenching around his torso. They’re holding him so tight you can’t imagine it doesn’t hurt.

But he just rolls off of you. Adjusts his trousers and your abdomen flutters and you think, don’t.

You don’t even realise you’re reaching for him until your hand is around his wrist and you’re still fucking sighing through the come-down, panting into the hot air.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, fingers damp on your chin as he holds you. You make a note that that’s the second time he’s done that. That you thought it was strangely intimate the first time and nothing’s changed other than how much more you like it.

And it doesn’t really feel like you can help it but crawl with gooey, trembling legs onto his lap. Doesn’t feel like you can help it when you lean in and capture his lips with yours, moan unabashedly into his mouth at the stiffness that presses against your core when you do, steal his tongue and the taste of you on it.

When he pulls away he’s looking at you like he doesn’t think you can actually do this. Like you’d just crumble the moment you tried.

A low, determined protest rises in your throat and you’re kissing him again. You’re unbuttoning his dress shirt, you’re trembling to reach for his trousers.

When you can finally shrug his shirt off, press yourself against him, feel that skin on skin you wanted so badly, you find it somehow even more suffocating than its absence. You’re left wanting a more you aren’t able to even conceptualise, but you’re grinding involuntarily against him and his teeth are scraping your neck and he's hissing at the sensation, and — yes, there’s more.

Your breath is staggered when your hips stutter into a roll and you — fuck. You’re tugging desperately to remove his belt and he smiles against your throat as he takes your hands and guides them to him. You can feel his bulge against your thigh and you’re spreading your legs to usher him where you want, clawing at his chest without even meaning to.

Tom’s taking off his belt, and he’s pulling down his trousers just enough to bare himself to you, and maybe he’s right that you can’t manage it yourself but he stops his assistance like the intrigue of finding out is too good to resist. There's something both intimate and imperious, in a way, about the way he's looking at you now; it's a kind of focus and intensity and withheld hunger just for you; and you're more than happy to give yourself over to it, to let his hands and his eyes and his mouth claim you for his own. To claim him for yours, at last.

You do. You struggle for it. He’s very patient.

But then it’s there — more — as you finally sink down on him and bite his shoulder and he shudders a low, pained exhale, his hands clutching your waist.

There’s a silent, suspended moment where neither of you move. The room feels entirely still.

Your lips quiver over his pulse, and your stomach flips at the intensity of it, the undeniable rate of his desire beneath you. You smile against him now, like he always does to you, conscious enough to mumble into his neck, “Mine.”

Tom stutters inside you, fingers gripping you impossible tighter as you dare to think he even gasps. You dare to think he likes it.

And then one of his hands grabs your jaw and his kiss is searing. He thrusts upward and you cry into his mouth, searching to match his pace in a way that you appreciate, for once, he seems unlearned in.

It’s all a bit messy, a bit new, palms in fists, in skin, in hair, digging for every part they haven’t already taken from. The sound in the back of Tom’s throat is divine, the feeling of him inside you as he slips his hand back between your legs — like he needs everything, like he knows you do too — it’s ineffable. It coils somewhere deep, touches something you didn’t know existed. Your hips are rotating, thighs still soft and slack from coming apart on his tongue, but you’re determined. It feels like finding even ground. It feels like something you deserve: to make him feel how you did.

Your head rolls back, eyes pinching shut in bliss, but Tom is there at your jaw again, forcing your blurry gaze back to him.

His hips are inching even further, the intensity of his pace as he adjusts to you making you dizzy. You think, realistically, there’s sound coming out of you, but you aren’t entirely sure when it’s so close to him, when your mouth is between his fingers and your ears are ringing and he’s looking at you like you’re made for him.

“Mine.” And it isn’t a dismissal of your own claim but a confirmation that one will not be without the other. His voice is raw and breathy and something about the way he says it makes you contract inadvertently around him, hands swatting his chest like they don’t know what else to do. There’s just too much.

You recognize you’re trying to say something. Some plea, a moan, his name (is there anything else left?), but you’re just babbling into his mouth and he holds you there. He doesn’t kiss you. It’s your failing words against his lips. He swallows whatever syllables try to shape them.

It’s there again when you need it most; the heavy, swirling feeling inside you as he snaps his hips, his fingers returning to your waist with punishing firmness. His breathing accelerates, low in his throat, and you push harder against him. Your vision is gone again, head held in his hands to keep from rolling back so that, you suspect, he can watch defeat split you down the middle again — not over your shoulder, not with his head between your legs — with his eyes on yours, with every broken moan you let out so close to his face he can feel the breath of each one.

You’re grappling desperately at skin that doesn’t feel like enough, even though he’s rocking inside you, and you see the insanity of it, you see that it isn’t logical. Too much and not enough at once — you’re smart enough to know that doesn’t work, but it just is.

“Please,” you manage in a voice you don’t recognize. “Please, Tom, pleasepleaseplease —”

Had you said before it was foolish to call him forgiving? You take it back. He’s very eager to oblige you.

He finds some place inside of you and you don’t know quite what it is that he changes but it's new, uncharted, and you break there. You dissolve. You’re liquid in his hands as you sob, stuttering around him, trembling like you didn’t know was possible, and you swear — you swear you’re going to take him there with you. It isn’t that you could stop yourself if you tried but your body is gripping around him, fingers carving halved spheres into his skin, and you’re pushing down on him through the ecstasy — you’re forcing your eyes open so he can see you break, watch them flutter back all soft and pretty.

And you're sated by your ruin when it ruins him too.

The sound he makes is ragged. Undone. He can only bury it halfway with a kiss you think is actually more of a bite, twitching inside you as he fucks you through it.

You’re both lost in each other for a moment that feels detached from time, feeling his hips stutter to a halt, feeling your body soften. And he’s pulling out of you like it hurts, mouth falling open as he does. You wince at the loss, the sweet soreness between your legs, and you’re held only by the weight of him. You think — and you actually sway like the mere idea is too strong — that if it weren’t for his hands, you’d fall flat off the bed.

But he sort of lifts you off him, lays you down and watches you for a long time as if to decide something important before he's laying down beside you. You watch him too. His fingers brush your hair out of your face, and when there’s not a single curl left clinging to the sweat on your skin, he continues anyway. You let him trace your lips, your jaw, your nose, and somehow, a bit terrifyingly, your final observation: nothing about it feels unusual at all.

You did say he was yours.

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle smut #tom riddle x y/n #tom marvolo riddle #voldemort #voldemort x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle oneshot #NO LONGER!#but it is only a two-parter sorry. this is it #harry potter fanfiction #wizarding world

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diorsluv · 3 months

Text

feather , part 33

“ no, duh ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

lhughes_06

liked by _quinnhughes, mackie.samo, jamie.drysdale, and 199,272 others

lhughes_06 call me gordon ramsay the way i’m always cookin 😮‍💨🧑‍🍳

view all comments

jamie.drysdale bro maxxed out frat boy speak

→ lhughes_06 ☝️🫵🤫🧏‍♂️

username43 I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD THAT’S HER

jackhughes is that what the burning smell was

→ lhughes_06 HEY I DID NOT BURN ANYTHING

→ jackhughes tell that to the smoke detector

→ lhughes_06 SHUT UP

yourusername when he can cook 🙈

→ rutgermcgroarty WHAAAAAAAAT

→ markestapa SAY IT AGAIN FOR THE CAMERA 📸

→ lhughes_06 oh 😳

→ dylanduke25 😱😱

→ _quinnhughes oh. OH. OH? O H ?

→ edwards.73 WAIT A SECOND……..

→ jackhughes what the fuck!

→ colecaufield WHAT DID I MISS???

→ trevorzegras did you have some secret intervention that i was not a part of?!?

→ _alexturcotte say it again no fucking balls

→ jamie.drysdale i checked life360 i know where you are 😒

→ adamfantilli so WHAT THE HELL IS THIS

→ luca.fantilli I LEFT MY PHONE ALONE FOR ONE MINUTE AND I COME BACK TO FIND THIS

→ mackie.samo go ahead n repeat that one for me

→ yourusername now that i have all your attention did you see that drake video 😨

edwards.73 this is the hardest soft launch i’ve ever seen

→ rutgermcgroarty i bet something’s harder tho 👀

→ lhughes_06 ✅ rutgermcgroarty

→ markestapa WHAT

→ yourusername WOAHHHH 🙉🙉

→ _quinnhughes BRO WHAT THE FUCK

→ jackhughes the dick jokes are getting worse

→ trevorzegras but i taught him well jackhughes

username10 bro exposed half her face thinking we weren’t gonna know 🙄

→ username87 i meannnnnn we all know anyways 🫢🫢

trevorzegras whens the hard launch

→ lhughes_06 well don’t spoil the surprise

→ trevorzegras 😥

→ colecaufield whos gonna tell him

→ _quinnhughes not me

→ jackhughes def not me

→ yourusername i volunteer as tribute 🙋‍♀️

markestapa luke is a dumbass confirmed

→ lhughes_06 mark is a bully confirmed

→ markestapa 🤬

→ lhughes_06 😓

luca.fantilli remember when you used to post about the friend group? cuz i dont 😒

→ lhughes_06 i just wanna show of my gf 🙁

→ lhughes_06 is that so wrong 😔😔

→ luca.fantilli yes

→ lhughes_06 oh…

→ yourusername and i’m sure your gf wants to show you off too lhughes_06

→ lhughes_06 well if she did then i’d be very flattered

→ yourusername ah then you should be pretty flattered cuz i’m almost 100% positive she wants to

→ luca.fantilli CAN YOU TWO PLEASE FUCKING STOP 😭

username51 man im ngl ur girlfriends hot

→ lhughes_06 oh hell no BACK UP

→ username40 LMAOOO

elblue6 oh that’s great sweetie! when did you learn to cook?

→ jackhughes mom he still doesn’t know how to

→ lhughes_06 YES I DO

→ elblue6 did your best friend and newly turned girlfriend teach you?

this reply has been deleted

→ lhughes_06 MOM YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO SAY THAT

→ _quinnhughes 💀

→ elblue6 oops

username88 ellen’s actually a fucking savage

→ username92 mama hughes 🫶

username13 i’m waiting for fuckin tmz to make some article about this shit

→ username7 GOODBYE NOT TMZ

username65 luke sweetie even my non hockey friends know about this shit.. you gotta step it up

liked by lhughes_06

_quinnhughes bro thinks hes cooking just cuz he got a girl

→ lhughes_06 I COOKED SO HARD FYM

→ yourusername lukey ily but you did not cook whatsoever 😭😭

→ colecaufield we cooked for him

→ adamfantilli and burned 2 kitchens down in the process

→ lhughes_06 so what i’m hearing is you did more damage than i did

→ _alexturcotte 🤫🤫

dylanduke25 she literally doesn’t even like steak

→ lhughes_06 and how would you know that

→ dylanduke25 because she texted the group chat that like two years ago

→ lhughes_06 ACCORDING TO RESEARCH taste buds change about every 7 years soooo

→ edwards.73 dude she turned you into a nerd

→ yourusername on behalf of his gf THERES NOTHING WRONG WITH BEING A NERD

→ markestapa 👀👀 yourusername

username22 he aint foolin anyone

username78 oh my god he can cook 😱😱😱

rutgermcgroarty but isn’t being able to cook like the bare minimum

→ lhughes_06 no……..(?)

→ yourusername YES IT IS 👏👏

→ lhughes_06 I MEAN YES IT IS

→ markestapa no it’s not 🙄🙄

→ yourusername i mean they jus gotta know the basics is what i’m saying yk

→ mackie.samo your man knows more than just the basics from what i’ve heard

→ yourusername yes he does 🤭🤭

→ dylanduke25 shit is that why i can’t get a date

adamfantilli i really thought you weren’t gonna post her 😔

→ lhughes_06 don’t be jealous man don’t worry

→ adamfantilli i’m not jealous 😕😕

→ mackie.samo idk you kinda do seem jealous

→ adamfantilli I’M NOT

→ luca.fantilli it’s okay bro let it out

→ yourusername awww adam do you want his attention 😣😣😣😣

→ adamfantilli stfu i KNOW you can’t be talking yourusername

→ yourusername oh ! 😃

→ markestapa LMFAOOO

username9 you live to torture us

username27 there’s no point in begging they’re never gonna do a hard launch

→ username66 it’s not like they need to

jamie.drysdale you’ve successfully shivered my timbers

→ lhughes_06 what 😥

→ jamie.drysdale my timbers are shivered as fuck

→ colecaufield LMAO

→ lhughes_06 I DON’T GET IT

→ jamie.drysdale i don’t need to see you two kissing on insta i already see it every day on ft

→ trevorzegras i mean at least you’re getting a show 🫣🫣

→ jamie.drysdale GOD NO

→ jamie.drysdale i’m going to vomit

→ jamie.drysdale never make that implication ever again

luca.fantilli what a jumpscare

→ lhughes_06 bro stop fucking hating 😒

→ luca.fantilli i can’t help myself

→ yourusername get off the fanboy agenda lu 🙄🙄

→ luca.fantilli fuck both of you

→ adamfantilli i think they’re already doing that luca.fantilli

→ yourusername MY GOD NO

username33 i don’t think they know what soft launch means anymore

_quinnhughes you didn’t even have the decency to put a trigger warning 😔

→ lhughes_06 wtf would it even say 😭

→ jackhughes tw happy couple

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, trevorzegras, edwards.73, and 248,050 others

yourusername shit’s feelin a little too soft now.. might have to switch it up 🫣

view all comments

markestapa are u saying what i think ur saying

markestapa ARE YOU FUCKING SAYING WHAT I THINK YOU’RE SAYING????

→ yourusername idk marky what do you think i’m saying 🫢

→ markestapa shut the fuck up dont tease me like this

→ yourusername you’re such a fan stop acting like you don’t know we’re already together 🙄🙄

→ markestapa thanks for crushing my dreams and aspirations🖕

jamie.drysdale i know you forced him to wear that shirt

→ yourusername WHAT NO I DIDN’T

→ trevorzegras lying is a sin ‼️

→ yourusername is it so hard for you to believe that maybe he just genuinely loves me 😔

→ jackhughes yes

→ _alexturcotte honestly it’s harder to believe that you genuinely love him

→ yourusername ARE YOU CALLING ME UNFAITHFUL??

→ colecaufield lmfaooo no we’re just saying he’s hard to love

→ _quinnhughes damn

→ lhughes_06 damn.

username65 HINTING AT A HARD LAUNCH??

→ yourusername am i?? 🙊

edwards.73 i don’t think you wanna hard launch him

→ yourusername why 😓

→ edwards.73 everyone’s gonna get jumpscared

→ lhughes_06 uncool bro. UNCOOL.

→ mackie.samo lukey boy you sound pretty offended as her ��best friend”

→ lhughes_06 i’m just being a cool best friend and getting offended for her boyfriend WHO I’M SURE IS GREAT AND AMAZING AND SUPER HANDSOME

→ rutgermcgroarty okay buddy you do you

username21 OH MY GOD HARD LAUNCH RIGHT NOW

username73 FUCKING FINALLYYYY

lhughes_06 you’re actually so cute

→ yourusername my bf doesn’t approve of you go away ❌❌

→ lhughes_06 aw shucks

→ jackhughes AW SHUCKS??? 💀

→ rutgermcgroarty stop the glazing

→ luca.fantilli biggest dickrider i’ve ever seen

→ dylanduke25 literally hop off her dick bro

→ mackie.samo you guys smell that?? cuz i smell a d1 dickrider

→ trevorzegras bro folded so hard

→ _alexturcotte stay strong my brother

→ lhughes_06 shut the fuck upppp

username54 you’re killing me 😓

colecaufield are you stepping on his docs

→ yourusername they’re dupes 🙏🙏

→ lhughes_06 THEY ARE NOT DUPES

→ lhughes_06 i mean from what i’ve heard at least

→ _quinnhughes you’re fumbling this secret really hard

→ edwards.73 there’s nothing to fumble at this point 😭 _quinnhughes

→ markestapa bro has enough money to buy 100 pairs of doc martens and still gets the dupes

→ yourusername financial management!

adamfantilli it’s SUMMER. why did he buy you skates 😭😭

→ yourusername indoor rinks 🙄🙄

→ luca.fantilli use your brain little bro

→ rutgermcgroarty 🧠 adamfantilli

→ adamfantilli that’s.. not what people use that emoji for

→ rutgermcgroarty i know exactly what they use it for 😉😉

→ yourusername HUH????

→ lhughes_06 whats wrong with buying her skates during the summer 😐

_alexturcotte 🧱🚀

→ yourusername LMAOOO I READ THAT SO WRONG

→ _quinnhughes how the hell do you read it wrong it’s literally emojis?

→ dylanduke25 bricked up rocket?????? wtf is that

→ _quinnhughes never mind

→ mackie.samo it means hard launch dumbass 😒😒 dylanduke25

trevorzegras do you just tie a bow around everything and call it coquette now

→ yourusername that’s exactly what i do

→ trevorzegras oh 😰😰

→ mackie.samo SO COQUETTE 👺

→ colecaufield so coke ett!

→ jackhughes i thought it was pronounced coke-eh???

→ yourusername cocaine

→ jamie.drysdale oh.

→ markestapa novocaine yourusername

→ edwards.73 why are we naming drugs

→ rutgermcgroarty NOVACANE markestapa

→ dylanduke25 FRANK OCEAN 🥰

→ _alexturcotte what the hell is going on

username56 THE FLOWERS ARE SO CUTE

username29 does he spoil you

→ yourusername he does 🤭

_quinnhughes i see he’s treating my lil drizzy good

→ yourusername wtf u never call me that

→ _quinnhughes what’s wrong with calling you lil drizzy 😥😥

→ trevorzegras it’s MY nickname for her

→ yourusername ehhhh trevorzegras

→ trevorzegras shush now

→ trevorzegras AND PLAGIARISM IS ILLEGAL

→ _quinnhughes shut your face zegras

→ trevorzegras face is shut 🫡🫡

mackie.samo i flinched out of utter terror

→ yourusername next time i see you you’re gonna flinch cuz of my fist

→ mackie.samo okay then square up 😤

→ yourusername i got your sisters on speed dial

→ mackie.samo i got your brother and bf on speed dial 🙄🙄

→ yourusername but they can’t hit me or else my mommy will get mad

→ mackie.samo fucking cry baby

→ yourusername suck it 🤬

dylanduke25 is that book cinderella

→ yourusername only you would look closely enough to notice what book i’m reading 😭

→ dylanduke25 what can i say i love the details

→ yourusername mhm i bet the girls love you

→ dylanduke25 no actually they don’t 💔

→ yourusername aw duker it’s okay ily

→ dylanduke25 i bet your bf’s punching the air rn

→ yourusername he’s currently whining about you and laying on top of me 😃😃

username58 luke’s a clingy bf?!?! 🙉

jackhughes mom misses you

→ yourusername AW TELL HER I MISS HER MORE

→ _quinnhughes the ass kissing is crazy

→ yourusername shut up before i tag your mom

→ lhughes_06 mom’s trying to steal my girl 🤬

this reply has been deleted

→ jackhughes luke we all saw that you’re such a pussy

next chapter notes ) ITS SHORT I KNOW but after you know.. stuff……. happened i really wanted to get something out AND IT’S VALENTINES DAY SO HOW COULD I NOT i hope you guys had a great day, valentine or not!!

tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot @absolutelyhugh3s @jackquinnswife @freds-slut @love4ldr @blueeyedbesson @43hughes @v1olentdelights @dancerbailey3 @random-human02 @ho3forfakeguys@loveforaugust@cstads-blog@h0e4fictionalme-n

#luke hughes fic #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #quinn hughes #jack hughes #trevor zegras #cole caufield #alex turcotte #jamie drysdale #adam fantilli #luca fantilli #rutger mcgroarty #ethan edwards #mark estapa #dylan duke #mackie samoskevich

342 notes · View notes

wlntrsldler · 1 month

Text

poisoned mercury | long way home

a/n: poisoned mercury is officially over :( but i will be adding small blurbs in between chapters and adding post-chb five star and luke to the masterlist because i'm not ready to say bye to them just yet. enjoy pm's sophomore album cover, optimism don't come easy (unless it's with you). also no tags for this one because tumblr has been super weird and the tags haven't been working for everyone.

x. long way home by 5sos

series masterlist | previous | next

“thank you all for your participation this summer at camp half blood,” mr. d said into the microphone. he was finishing up his end-of-the-year speech and there was no dry eye in the house. all the campers were sniffling as they reminisced on all the memories they made this summer. your dad cleared his throat, “if any of you tell anyone that i cried, i will never forgive you.”

annabeth giggled, rubbing the tears from her eyes, “your dad makes that joke every year, i swear.”

“oh, i’m sure,” you replied, laughing along with her. “above all, he is a dad and that means he recycles the same jokes over and over again.”

“and they’re never funny,” percy added, though he was laughing at what mr. d was saying. “but i feel like i gotta laugh or else i won’t be accepted next year.”

“you have my permission to not laugh, perce,” you nudged him. “he gotta get some new material.”

“hey,” clarisse said from beside you. you turned to her, letting annabeth, percy, and grover fall into their own conversation. she was no longer adorned in her camp counselor outfit, opting to wear something from her own closet now that her duties for the summer were finished. “thanks for getting me this job, y/n. kinda changed my life with this one.”

your eyes darted between clarisse and chris, who was waiting by the wings of the stage ready for his cue to close out the farewell celebration. you placed a hand on clarisse’s knee, giving it a squeeze, “thanks for always having my back, clar.”

“always,” she nodded, “you’re my sister.”

you were feeling a lot of things at once. there were a lot of emotions coursing through your veins. you always knew that there were people who cared about you. your parents had a funny way of showing it sometimes, but you never doubted that they loved you. your friends, clarisse, silena, charlie, were always there for you, even during the most stressful times of your life. the poisoned mercury boys who welcomed you with open arms like you were a part of their dysfunctional family the whole time.

and luke.

where do you even start with luke? luke castellan was the boy you had promised yourself never to fall for again. the heartbreaker, the player, the musician, and yet, here you were, completely eating your words. everything you thought you knew about him was wrong and since you let your guard down, your world was turned on its axis. he was so much more than what people made him out to be. he was so much more than you expected him to be.

and you were lucky enough to have him. who knew a summer in montauk would lead to this?

“to close out our incredible summer, welcome poisoned mercury!” your dad said, clapping wildly as the boys entered the stage. he placed the mic back on the stand, giving short hugs to the band as they walked up to him. luke was the last to hug your dad and their interaction lasted longer than the rest of the boys’. when they pulled away from their embrace, luke had a slight blush on his face and a goofy grin as his eyes scanned the crowd to find you.

he sent you a shy wave from the stage as he adjusted the mic to his level. you blew him a kiss, which he returned and that made the crowd go wild. to them, luke was blowing a kiss into the ether, a message with no recipient, but you knew it was meant for you. something about it made your heart constrict in your chest. it was still hard to believe he chose you, but luke spent every waking moment making sure you believed it.

“camp half blood,” luke said, eyes twinkling under the lights. travis picked up his drumsticks from the floor, giving the left one a twirl, as he got situated on his stool. connor and chris played their guitars experimentally, tweaking the strings to get the right key. “man, i don’t even think we can explain just how thankful we are to have spent the summer with you all.”

luke turned around to face the boys who all nodded in agreement.luke faced the crowd again, sighing, “i learned a lot of things here. one being, there are a lot of talented people out there in the world. getting to work with y’all was such an amazing experience. many of you guys are aspiring musicians, and i’m here to tell you to keep going. i know it seems like sometimes your dreams aren’t worth chasing, but i promise you they are.”

“some of you kids are so talented,” luke said, shaking his head in disbelief. “little beth, i’m talking about you when i say this. you’re brilliant and i know i’m gonna be seeing your name in the charts in a few years. you got more talent in your pinky finger than we four up here have combined.”

the rest of the boys laughed, but agreed. luke narrowed his eyes, searching for a few more faces to give a shoutout to, “oh! and our boys percy and grover! we love you guys. keep in touch. you guys have to join us in the studio one day.”

“did luke castellan just give us a shoutout?” grover asked, turning to percy with his eyes as wide as saucers.

you laughed, patting him on the back, “i believe he did.”

“holy shit,” percy mumbled.

“language.”

“come on, counselor clarisse,” the blond boy groaned, “camp is over.”

clarisse huffed, smiling teasingly, “fine. i’ll give you a pass this one time.”

“not many people know this, but i went to camp half blood when i was younger,” luke continued, looking down at his feet. “it was my favorite place in the world. some of my best memories involved me sitting right where many of you are sitting right now, but then life happened and things went sideways for me for a while. it took me a while to pick up a guitar again, but man, i’m so glad i did.”

“if it wasn’t for music, i wouldn’t be here in front of you guys today,” he smiled, locking eyes with you, “and i wouldn’t have had the best summer of my life.”

“holy shit,” clarisse said, mimicking percy. she turned to you with a wide grin, “castellan is talking about you up there.”

“he is not.”

as if he read your mind, luke leaned into the mic, “thanks, five star.”

your heart swelled as memories of this summer flooded your mind; the smoke sessions in your secret spot that soon became luke’s as much as it was yours. hours sitting on the creaky bench as you both got lost in the fog of vices and genuine conversations. the bench where you learned about luke and he learned about you, something more than just introductions and superficial answers; the countless impromptu jam sessions in your cabin that started with you playing records on your speaker and ended with the boys playing their instruments as they screamed out lyrics to their favorite songs with you and clarisse. constant noise complaints from neighboring cabins because you were being too loud so late at night with melodies and laughter escaping through your open window. luke pulling you into his lap as he whispered cheesy love songs into your ear as you giggled; the days in your room, locked away with luke, enjoying his company. his lips always finding their way back to yours like a promise that he’ll always be around. luke. luke luke.

you were glad the lights were focused on the stage so nobody could see your red cheeks. the boys cheered from behind luke, unabashedly voicing their approval of your relationship. the crowd cheered along, even if none of them knew what the situation was. luke rolled his eyes at his friends for the commotion they started, “the song we’re playing for you today is not yet released, but we decided that it’s the perfect song to end the perfect summer. this song is called long way home, we hope you like it.”

–

“did you know you had a dimple on your back?” you asked, letting your finger linger in the crevice on luke’s skin. goosebumps raised on his tanned flesh as you lightly grazed his exposed back. “right here.”

“mhm,” he replied, off-handedly. he didn’t really know what you were saying. he was too dazed by the feeling of your touch on him. you two were on the grass on the hill by the lake, a reprieve, a plead for time to stop even just for a few minutes. tomorrow summer would officially be over. tomorrow the two of you would be leaving camp half blood. tomorrow you would no longer have empty hours to fill with each other.

luke didn’t want to think about it too much. he’d gotten too used to finding you lounging in your room or in the living room where he could join you to do nothing. to do everything. he didn’t know how he’d survive the next few months without you. your coach gave you the all-clear to resume practice once you were back on campus, which meant that visits during short breaks were no longer an option. luke was happy that things worked out for you, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed that you could no longer visit him during thanksgiving break.

droplets of water from your hair trickled down his back. he was face down with his head facing you, eyes fluttered shut as a sign of peace, while you leaned over him, tracing shapes on his back. you’d both just emerged from the water, checking off items on your “summer goodbye bucket list.” that’s what you’ve been up to this last week, revisiting memories and places that you weren’t ready to leave yet.

you chuckled softly, pressing a light kiss on luke’s spine. he smiled at the feeling of your lips, eyes hazily opening to meet yours. you took your place beside him, propping yourself up on an elbow as you watched luke come back to his senses, “are you even listening to me?”

“of course,” he lied, grinning at you in the boyish and charming way that always had your knees buckling. he squinted as you moved your head, the heat of the sun hitting his face, “‘m always listening to you, five star.”

“liar.”

he laughed then, letting the sound echo into the air, “i try my best, at least. but i’m no multitasker. i can’t concentrate when you’re sitting here all pretty in front of me and touching me like this.”

“you’re such a flirt,” you grimaced, though the smile on your face gave away your true feelings for the boy. luke looked pretty like this. there was no tension in his shoulders, like he was finally letting himself breathe. you wondered when you’d see him like this again. just last night after the celebration, you two had stayed up talking until deep into the night about how nervous he was to come back to the spotlight. he’d found solace in camp half blood, in not having to look over his shoulder every day in fear of the world. he didn’t know how the public would react to him being back again, especially since he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up his facade now that it’s all crumbled since he met you.

maybe it was his lack of sleep that was making him vulnerable and a little delirious, but he shared with you that he felt like he’s changed. the luke that walked into camp half blood who was too scared to be himself in fear of rejection and failure was no longer there. a few months ago, he wouldn’t be caught dead like this, all soft and gentle for a girl. he couldn’t remember the last time he wanted to see a girl more than once. but with you, he couldn’t help it. the luke that he truly was became his default state when he was with you. all he wanted to do was hold you in his arms and be with you for as long as you’d let him.

“you say that like it’s a bad thing, baby,” he grumbled, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. “you don’t like it when i flirt with you?”

you rolled your eyes playfully, adjusting your head until you fully blocked the light from his face again. you laced your fingers with his, letting out a hum when he squeezed your hand. “i didn’t say that.”

“so, let me flirt with you,” luke said. “i like flirting with you. you blush every time i do it and i think it’s fucking adorable.”

“stop,” you whined knowing that the blush he was referring to was starting to show on your skin. maybe you could blame it on the heat, but you both knew that that would be a lie. it was because of him. it was always because of him. “you like teasing me, don’t you, castellan?”

“a little bit,” he admitted, scrunching his face up in a way that brought out the creases between his eyebrows. his lips curved into a lopsided smile. his arms reached out to snake around your waist, pulling you on his body as he laid on his back. he placed his hands along the expanse of your bare thighs as you situated yourself on his abdomen. your fingers played with the silver chain around his neck. luke massaged your thighs, sighing out, “i like knowing i have that effect on you.”

“me and half the female population,” you snorted, “as much as you act like you know just how amazing you are since you have a gigantic ego, i feel like you also don’t give yourself enough credit.”

luke quirked an eyebrow, “was that a compliment, five star?”

“don’t get used to it,” you smacked his shoulder lightly, making him let out a chuckle. his chest rumbled from under you as his hands made their way up your waist. luke’s hands were always warm. he had callouses on his fingers from playing guitar and bumps on his palms from lifting at the gym. there were characteristics about his hands that made you believe that you’d know his touch even if you were blindfolded. there was something different in the way he touched you, even in the most innocent ways, you knew when it was luke. there was a light in your brain that would go off every time he was around, like your body, mind, and heart knew when he was there.

“i’ll take what i can get,” he conceded.

“does it bother you that i don’t compliment you as much as you compliment me?”

“nah,” he replied, looking up at you. the sun was framing your face in a way that made his breath hitch. you looked ethereal like this. it was like you were a figment of his imagination. luke had to place his hand flat on your ribcage to feel you breathe just to convince himself that you were real. “makes these little moments even sweeter.”

“but you know, right?” you questioned, eyes not once leaving his own. a shadow of doubt flashed across your irises. “you know what i think of you?”

luke castellan had a way with words that left you speechless. perhaps it was because he was a songwriter, trained to string together words in a way that you could never achieve. he made a living by writing, by voicing how he felt, and turning it into art, into music. there were many moments where luke would say things so poetically that it made your head spin. he says things so casually, so easily like he didn’t just utter out the most romantic things you’ve ever heard in your life.

you envied him for it, a little bit. you wished you could tell him how you felt about him as easily as he said it with you, but anything you tried to say felt like it would pale in comparison. luke didn’t mind. you had your own way of showing him how you felt. it was in your touch, taking your time to admire his imperfections. it was in the way you kissed him, smiling so wide like you couldn’t help it whenever he would press his lips to yours. it was in the way you paid attention to him, the little things that he didn’t even realize he did.

“‘course, i do,” luke tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. he took his time bringing his hand back to your waist. he liked seeing you nuzzle your face into his palm as you kissed his wrist. “but i wouldn’t be opposed to hearing you say it, either.”

“i’m not good at saying how i feel,” you said, shoulder hunching as you spoke. it felt like you were letting him in on a secret that you’d never told anyone else. luke could feel his heartbeat in his chest. you dropped the poisoned mercury pendant back on his chest as you leaned down to bury your face in the crook of his neck. “i’m working on it, though. might just take me a while.”

luke smiled at you. his voice was earnest as he placed a kiss on the top of your head, “we got all the time in the world, five star. there’s no rush.”

you furrowed your eyebrows at his words, “we leave tomorrow, luke.”

“mhm,” he repeated, thumb running across your lower back. it made you shiver, the realization of his words hitting you. “like i said, we got all the time in the world.”

you pulled away from him, cradling his face in your hands as you placed a kiss on his lips, “yeah, we do.”

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you

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teeny-tiny-revenge · 3 months

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It's home cinema manufacturing time! 🏴‍☠️ Gonna put my pirate show on my shelf! (I'm doing an Arts and Crafts Project and I'm making it everyone's problem.)

After seeing how much they cost, I abandoned the idea of getting a Blu-ray writer for now. For the time being, good old DVDs is what it's going to be! My TV is old and not very big, so DVD resolution is gonna be fine.

It's been ages since I last burned a DVD. For the full experience, I'm gonna create nice menus and pretty sleeves for the boxes. Graphic design is my passion! Um.

Well. First needed to find a program to do stuff with. I'm a Linux guy, so I'm using Devede. (Which is free, btw. In case someone else wants to do a low cost spot of putting pirate show on the shelf.)

DVDs fit a maximum of 120 minutes of video. So, four episodes, I thought. But after a quick attempt, the program refused to do more than three (maybe because of the menu also taking up space, and four episodes cutting pretty close to the 120 min mark?). Anyway, three episodes per disc it is. It's a pretty nice runtime for watching the entire disc, IMO. An hour and a half, and then you can return to reality to realise you should probably eat something, or go to bed because it's midnight.

OFMD with its current two seasons has a total of eighteen episodes, which is divisible by three. You get the following setup:

Disc 1: Pilot, A Damned Man, The Gentleman Pirate - That's pretty good, Stede's introduction to piracy all on one disc!

Disc 2: Discomfort in a Married State, The Best Revenge is Dressing Well, The Art of Fuckery - All bangers. Great to watch together, our boys meet and shenanigans happen!

Disc 3: This is Happening, We Gull Way Back, Act of Grace - Many romantic moments, lots of great scenes, shit hits the fan at the end there. Alright!

Disc 4: Wherever you go, there you are, Impossible Birds, Red Flags - ... Pain and angst! What have I done!?! The disc of horrors. Gotta make sure to have tissues at hand when I watch this. But hey, it also has messy bun Ed! Small mercies.

Disc 5: The Innkeeper, Fun and Games, The Curse of the Seafaring Life. - Another disc with all winners. I love all these episodes so much! (You can watch this disc to recover from the trauma of the previous one!) But seriously, this one slaps.

Disc 6: Calypso's Birthday, Man on Fire, Mermen - Great combination again. Season finale! Love and excitement!

... Honestly, except for the psychological damage of putting all the most painful episodes together, this is coming out pretty cool. Says a lot about how good the show is. I actually really love all the episodes (yes even the painful angsty episodes of massive depression). Thinking about this little project really reminded me how much I love this entire show.

So, we got a tracklist, now menus, then we can burn this stuff!

I did the menu backgrounds in GIMP. Realised I have a big folder full of screenshots I took myself, screenshots someone else took and posted on Tumblr, official promo pics for the show, and I have no idea anymore where most of them are from, because I named the files according to what's on them. Which is useful for when you want to find pics (Need a picture of cursed suit Stede? I have files named that, easy peasy!), but not so great if you wanted to give credit to whoever took a given pic you used. (It's probably @sherlockig or @ofmd-ann or @blakbonnet. Please feel credited, your beautiful screens and gifs brighten my day, and some of them are now probably part of my DVD menus. Shrunk down and cropped, but, yeah.)

I originally wanted to structure my menus as having the title of an episode, then some pics from it, then the next episode, then pics from that, and so forth, but I couldn't convince the program to give me the necessary padding between the menu items, so I ended up just putting the episode images below the menu. Still like it.

Anyway, DVD menus can also play sound! Behold a crappy video of my beautiful creation (provided entirely for sound):

It plays Gnossienne N°5!

More crappy pics of my other disc menus:

Gonna make them some nice sleeves next. Some day. Gotta make sure they all work properly first. So. I'll be on my sofa, watching my DVDs. With menus! (Edit: here are!)

#piracy ho!#ofmd #teeny rambles #ofmd dvds

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neteyamsoare · 5 months

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birthday present / spider socorro is now live. 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

ಇ current game. it's spider birthday and you decide to pull a surprise on him.

ಇ game warnings. minors and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, aged up! spider, fem! human! reader, lingerie/stockings, mentioning of alcohol, drunk sex, dom! spider, dirty talk, spanking, slight oral (f receiving), slight fingering (f receiving), p in v, dirty talk, use of ‘ma’ + breeding kink. words. 1.1k.

ಇ things to note. finally finished it at 2:33 am, oh my god. it's always spider that gets me writing over my drabble limit, something about him but i’m happy to finally post it. thanks to my bestie, @inlovewithpandora, for reading it over for me and suggesting to add the breeding kink in it, love you bb!! : masterlist / kinkmas masterlist / previous fic / taglist

It was Spider’s 22nd birthday and the two of you celebrated amongst your friends which you have been planning for a while now as a secret wanting to surprise Spider and catch him off guard.

The two of you partied it up more than anyone else there. You played games, grinded on each other, and drank more than the rest which they had to lead you guys home. You loved seeing the smile on his face, his expression kept playing over and over in your head when you first removed the blindfold from his eyes and everyone yelled ‘surprise’.

He was so happy since he thought everyone forgot his birthday, you had him think that so as not to give away any hints of the surprise party. Now that his special day is ending, you tell him to close his eyes for the final surprise you had for him, slurring over your words a bit. “No peeking!” you chastised him after catching one of his eyes slightly opened and he slightly chuckled, closing his eyes completely.

You squeal in excitement as you undress yourself from your loincloth and feather top. You planned this good, it was one of the reasons you spent so much time at work between planning the party and sowing a new piece that you knew he was going to love.

Once you were done putting them on, you stood right before him, smiling very hard, a bit nervous about what he might think. “You can open your eyes now,” you exclaimed as you watched Spider open his eyes, looking you up and down with a shocked expression. “Do you like it?”

“Damn ma, if I knew that this was going to happen, I’d have left the party a long time ago!” Spider smirked as his eyes traveled down your body as he noticed how the bra accentuated your breasts to the way your panty hugged all your curves. He was drooling at the sight. “You look so sexy, only f’me,” he whispered, closing the distance between the two of you.

“Only for you,” you repeated back as you leaned forward, smashing your lips on his, you opened your mouth slightly giving him total access to slide his tongue in, and his hands travels down the side of your body til they meet the swell of your ass, rubbing it a bit before squeezing it tight eliciting a moan from you as he deepened the kiss.

Spider is the first to pull away as you both catch your breath, he pulls down your bra enough to release your breasts, cups your breast, kneads it softly, and rolls your nipples with his thumbs. Small moans come out of your mouth as your hands untie his loincloth making it drop to the floor and his cock springs up and hits against his abdomen, precum coming out of the slit, leaking down his shaft.

“You want him so bad, don’t you?” Spider questioned as he brought his hand down to rub against the fabric to test the waters and as he expected, it was drenched with your slick. “Yes, you know I do.”

Spider walks over to your desk, clearing it with just a swipe of his hand, papers, pens, and pencils flying to the ground. “You gotta stop doing that,” you chastised him and he let out a laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up after,” he slurred over his words as he brings you over to the desk, bending you over, your breasts laid on the desk while your back arched with your ass in the air exactly where he wants it.

Spider pulls your panty to the side, your bare pussy on display for him, admiring how soaked it is just from making out and playing with your breasts a bit. He runs his finger between your folds before sticking a finger in your hole, slowly thrusting in and out as your cunt clenched around his finger.

“Mmm fuck…” you cursed under your breath, he removed his finger and replaced it with his tongue, slurping up your sweet juices. “Spider… stop with the teasing…” you whined earning a deep chuckle from him.

Spider straightens himself, rubbing his cock between your folds, letting your slick cover it before he lines up to your entrance, pushing it inch by inch till he bottoms out, grunting as he does.

“Baby, y’so wet that I slid right in,” he groaned as you waited for him to move, so eager for him to blow your back out. He gives you slow sloppy strokes for a few before increasing the tempo.

The sounds of skin slapping, your moans, and the desk hitting against the wall filled the air of the lab. You were so glad that it was only the two of you here, it kinda did excite you a bit of getting caught.

The more he pumped in and out of you, the more you drenched his cock with your juices. “Shit…” you let out a pornographic moan as he relentlessly slammed in and out of you.

“Y’feel s’good, baby,” Spider groans as he slaps your ass causing you to yelp, bringing your hand to place over the stinging area but he grabs a hold of it and places it on your lower back using it as leverage as he continues to fuck you into the desk.

“Y’fuckin me so good,” you cried out as you felt your high build-up. Spider knew you were close just based on you starting clenching him even tighter, he knew he was close as well and he couldn’t help but imagine filling you up with his cum.

You would look s’pretty if he got you pregnant, s’round as you waddled around the clan showing everyone just how much you were his made him so excited that it drove him crazy.

“Baby, I’m coming,” you moaned as your legs began to flutter around his cock, squirting all over his length, your juices dripping to the floor. “Mmm.. fuck…” you tried catching your breath as Spider sped up his pace as you were coming down from your high.

“Don’t you think you’ll look s’good with my baby in you?” Spider questioned as he continued at his torture, loving the sweet sounds of your moans. “I think you’d look s’pretty,” he continued and you smiled at the thought as you felt his dick twitch inside you. “Please fill me up with your cum, no drop wasted.”

A smirk formed on his face when he heard you speak those words and there was no going back as he pumped into you one more time, releasing his load deep inside you before pulling out, watching as some of his come trickled out of you and he scoops it up and pushes it back inside you, you gasp at the feeling.

“I know baby, I’m done, let’s get you cleaned up then you can rest, okay?” he quired and in response, all you could manage was an ‘mmm’ and he chuckled. The two of you couldn’t wait to see what the future held for you, y’all were ready for just about anything.

ಇ chat. @neteyamyawne, @zanabelle99, @moonchildxoxx, @btsiguess-kpop, @sweetdayme4427, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @neo-novaa, @doireallyhavetonamthis, @sassypain, @merlinbtch, @hadesbabygurl, @itsjazzsworld, @neteyamssyulang, @pandoraslxna, @blue-slxt, @neteyamsyawntu, @justcaptiannoodles, @kolsmikaelson, @galactict3a, @loaksx, @neteyamswillow + @loaksulluyswife. (if your @ is not working, please fix your settings).

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blueaetherr · 2 months

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welcome to eden

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x fem!reader [she/her]

warnings(s): none

summary: the one where trent recounts his journey to discover eden

author's note: something small to get me back into writing again

now playing: she's mine pt. 1 by j. cole

With the day slowly fading into the night, people retiring inside, both parties equally wanting to rest and repair for the following day—the day had come to an end, simple and peaceful. Quiet too, only minimal and distant noise interrupting the silence of the early night. Despite this, activities both calm and loud continued within one's walls.

As for Trent and Y/N, they had opted for both. Loud activity—that leftover piece of cake on the kitchen counter, the game controller stuck and forgotten in the folds of the couch, the music speaker misplaced in the garden, the UNO cards left on the coffee table. It all remained scattered across their shared home as remnants, now existing as cherished memories to discuss in later years.

Calm activity, they saved for the end of the day. Something as simple and uncomplicated as laying in bed together, feeling the wind touch up against exposed skin, acknowledging one another's presence through straying touches, tangled limbs and soothing breaths. How they finished their day would be how they would, too, start their day in the coming hours.

Adjusting her position Y/N exhaled, saying, "Tell me something I'd like to hear." Her voice came out as a whisper, small and slightly muffled against Trent's chest, like she was shy and scared to speak. But in truth, it was simple; she wanted to hear Trent speak. To hear him lift up his voice and pronounce words the way that he did so perfectly every time, something Y/N felt like she would never get over.

Asking to hear Trent's words and voice wasn't anything out of the ordinary. In fact, it was habitual and familiar to their relationship. In times when they wanted to sleep but couldn't, when they wanted to relax and falter a bit after a taxing day, when they wanted to bring about a sense of calm in a moment of chaos—whether in person or over the phone—Y/N would request Trent's words.

Tell me a story. Tell me about your day today, honey. How did you find the movie? From the hypotheticals to the yes or no wonders of life itself. Anything and everything was on the table and Trent would, of course, always say yes to her requests.

Normally, if Trent was given free rein about what he could discuss with his partner, he would have to think for a moment, always looking to capture the perfect exchange of words. This time, however, he found no need to wander his mind for thoughts. "You weren't the first person I ever fell for."

"Oh wow, wow, wow." In any other situation where Y/N had the energy, she would've reacted more to his opening statement. Perhaps a questioning look or a warning yet joking pinch to the chest. Instead, she remained inert in Trent's arms and expressed in a neutral tone, "I feel so, so loved right now."

"I didn't mean it like that, obviously," Trent laughed a bit, his laughter bouncing off the walls. Even with the neutral tone, he could hear the dramatic undertone behind it. "You gotta hear everything I have to say and then make up your mind about how you feel."

"And how do you think I'll be feeling post-explanation?" A fooling curiosity settled behind her voice. Will it be worth it to listen to your words? After all, she did request something she would like to hear.

Tilting his head to look towards the window, Trent noticed the shining light rising into the night sky. "Over the moon and beyond."

Humming, Y/N nodded against his chest and relaxed further into his embrace. Big expectations to meet. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to hear him out. "Let's hear it."

"Well you already know I've had a few girlfriends before you, and it was with my previous girlfriend where I personally felt like I fell in love for the first time. Everything was good, great if you want to go that far. She was the one partner I was always going to my friends and family to talk about. I loved it because she made it so easy; I was happy and she made me happy, and I thought that was more than enough for me to be content with the relationship."

She shifted away from Trent's chest– the distance quite small though not enough to prevent body contact– so she could face him well. "Sounds like you were in Eden," Y/N shaking her head slightly, feigning disappointment. She couldn't allow Trent to get through his story without bringing some cause for laughter to the conversation.

"Just like me get to it. I promise it gets better," Trent huffed out a small laugh, and Y/N soon followed suit. An instant of delight under the night sky.

Soon laughter fell short into silence and Trent continued, "Anyways, eventually she ended up breaking up with me and I was heartbroken. I was confused and devastated. Everything always felt right to me so I didn't know where it went wrong. I thought she was the one and only, my one and only. I'd fallen, like, pretty hard and I didn't think I would again after that. I found everything in her. She was everything to me. It doesn't get better than that," he exhaled, his eyes drifting randomly around the room, "I mean it shouldn't get better than that."

"But then I met you," Smiling, his gaze returned to his partner, fondness soon collecting in his eyes, "... and I quickly discovered that I was so, so wrong."

"Where she was giving me happiness, you're giving me happiness and more. Where she was giving me joy, you're giving me joy and more. Where she was giving me peace, love, content— you know what? Let me not ramble before I'm just listing everything great about you." Noticing her smile wobble a bit, he took hold of her hand and kissed the back of it. A request to comfort and ease her mind. Against her hand, Trent spoke with a small voice, "I mean you get what I'm sayin' right?"

Tell me more, keep going, let me know your thoughts– among many things she wanted to say. But she found herself in her feelings, far too deep, so much so that she failed to find her voice. So instead she simply nodded through sniffles and a struggling smile, allowing him to continue.

"So sure she was my first real, honest love. I fell for her first and that's fact—that'll never change. But she could never reach your ankles, honey. 'Cause I fell for you and suddenly, I felt it again but with you. Heck, I still feel it with you, over and over, every single day. I remember how it felt when we first met. I felt it yesterday. I felt it when we were washing the dishes together a few hours ago." Humming, he wiped away the stray tear escaping her eyes. "And I hope to feel that way tomorrow and every day after that."

"I am and have everything and some with you. You give me more than I need; you are quite literally abundance."

In truth, Trent didn't always have the words for everything, often spontaneous and unintentional in his speech. Still, his love language always pointed back to words of affirmation. Forever with pleasure, he would continue to offer Y/N his voice and words of her choosing. 'Cause in his eyes, it was easy to speak for someone you felt so passionately about, someone who you could never seem to pull away from even when you should.

Speaking on this aspect of the relationship made Trent reflect a bit, his mind rekindling recent thoughts. It made him lean back and think wow. He once believed that he had found true paradise in someone else. That she was everything ideal and secure, and Trent would never find himself in want of something else.

But then there came Y/N, the genuine living proof of everything ideal and secure and more. In the words of Y/N, Trent found Eden in her. She was this person of paradise, harmony, perfection and ultimate beauty. In mind, spirit and body. Someone to appreciate, love and acknowledge at every point in space and time. And in his words, she was someone of abundance. Always ever-giving and forever infinite in her person. Never would he ever lack with Y/N. The primal things—loud activity, calm activity—continued to leave Trent without wants beyond his partner.

"So how did that meet your expectations?"

Y/N strung out a sigh, exhaling those overwhelming sentiments. Some would think Trent was speaking just to speak, to pass time or for the two to fall asleep well, and that was true. But what was also true was that Trent found delight and happiness in speaking on this subject, speaking about how, actually, Y/N was his one and only. How she was everything—how she gave him everything and more. Yet all she ever asked for in return were his words and speech.

So here were his words, a mellow proclamation of love and affection, and like every other time it left Y/N joyfully devastated.

The soft breeze in the room shifted her attention towards the opened window for a moment. Soon, she noticed the moon, now high in the sky daintily shining into the bedroom. She hung her head back as she let a small chuckle through her tears. "I'm over the moon and beyond."

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold blurbs #trent alexander arnold imagines #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold x black!reader #black!reader #trent alexander arnold fanfiction #trent alexander arnold fluff #football imagines #football fanfiction #football blurbs #football oneshots

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justagalwhowrites · 4 months

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Run Rabbit Part 2

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

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

Relationship: Joel Miller x Female Reader X Tommy Miller

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

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

AO3 | Fic Masterlist | Full Masterlist | Previous Part

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel shrugged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel scoffed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself.

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

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

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

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

To his credit, Joel was quick.

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

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

“What.”

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

“Yup.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You looked at him skeptically for a moment.

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

“Bed time it is.”

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

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

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

He scoffed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You obeyed, looking ahead.

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

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

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

Joel snorted.

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

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

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

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

“Little girl…”

“Woman.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sniffed.

“Not hungry.”

Joel was quiet for a moment.

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

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

“Not gonna kill you,” he said.

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

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

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

Joel huffed a small laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

You watched him, eyes trailing over those scars again.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hold on, I got it.”

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

“Open.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sighed.

“I guess it might attract people…”

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

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

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

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

“Shut up.”

He snorted and laughed a little.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” he replied. “Imagine so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sighed.

“What now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You watched him for a moment and frowned a little.

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

His brows knitted together, frowning back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel smiled a little.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What if you were alone?

“Joel?”

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

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

Joel scoffed.

“I was gone all of five minutes.”

“It was longer than that.”

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

It was your turn to scoff.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joel?” You said softly.

“Hm.”

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

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

“OK.”

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

“Joel?”

He sighed.

“Hm.”

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

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

“C’mere.”

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

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

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

He sighed.

“Go to sleep.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tommy’s head whipped around, his eyes narrowed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You tightened your jaw for a moment before nodding once.

Tommy sighed.

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

You dug your nails into your palms.

“Yeah,” you said. “OK.”

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

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

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

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

What if you were alone?

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

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

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

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

You shrugged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Instead, you just pulled your arm away.

“I have to pee.”

He laughed once.

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

He started humming Run Rabbit again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He laughed once, darkly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joel!” You shrieked. “Tommy!”

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

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

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

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

***

Tommy wasn’t thrilled about leaving you behind.

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

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

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

Survival of the fittest, after all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel was quiet for a moment.

“Right?” He said again.

“Sure,” Joel said. “Right.”

Tommy clenched his jaw but stared straight ahead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel just huffed.

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

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

Tommy was quiet for a moment.

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

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

“Joel! Tommy!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, he heard it.

“Tommy!”

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

“Tommy, help me!”

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

“No,” he breathed.

Joel shook his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel nodded and followed Tommy to the kitchen.

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

“You OK?” He asked eventually.

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

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

He shook his head.

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

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

Tommy nodded slowly.

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

Joel glared at him.

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

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

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

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

Joel sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Joel didn’t tie you up again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, little girl?”

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

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

“But…”

You went quiet.

“But what?” Joel asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you did.

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

“Little girl,” he said, voice strained.

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

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

“Yes I do.”

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

“I know what I want,” you whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

His voice trailed off.

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

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

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

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

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

Joel was quiet for a moment.

“You sure about this?” He asked.

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

Your heart fluttered at that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pulled away eventually, looking across you to Tommy.

“She does taste good,” He said.

“Told you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel had another idea.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“One guy,” you managed. “In college…”

“You like it?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded into Joel’s chest.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taglist: @pockcock

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #smut fic #joel miller x female reader x tommy miller #dead dove december #dead dove do not eat #tommy miller x reader

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