#I just got the news this morning now I gotta draw | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

teddyeyeseddie · 4 months

Text

The Cherrywood Motel

Starry Haze, Crystal Ball

rockstar!Eddie x housekeeper!reader

masterlist

(a/n: ITS BACKKKK AND SO AM I!! Enjoy my lovelies and visit my blog for some life updates!)

warnings: soft eddie, smut, minors dni, oral (fem rec), p in v, cream pie x 2, riding, showering together, a jump from last chapter.

now playing:

You lug all your clothes into the laundromat down the street, heaving the heavy bag onto the table before you once you’ve made your way inside. The smell of bleach and laundry detergent mixes in your nostrils as you sort your piles of dirties.

It’s early in the morning, the only person in the place being you and an elderly woman. You enjoy the quiet, only the soft whirring of the dryers breaking the silence.

You separate your lights from darks, throwing your first load in when a familiar voice resonates through the quaint room.

“Shit- fuck,” you look over to see Eddie struggling with a bag of laundry. You chuckle to yourself, your eyes meeting his. His face lights up when he sees you.

“Hey stranger,” he breathes out as he settles in at the table next to you.

“Hi Eddie,”

Ever since Eddie woke up in your bed, things had been different. Eddie seemed happier, his demeanor not so jittery. You talked more, Eddie revealing more about his life.

You learned he was really a dork. Knows a little too much about horror movies, still plans D&D campaigns for fun, and collects mugs from every new place he goes.

He’s become softer, more himself in the last few days. You found yourself getting closer to him, his magnetic force drawing you in with every little conversation.

His captivating personality had you expressing more things about yourself, like your favorite flower, how you got the scar on your shoulder, and all about your childhood cat, Mr. Snuffles.

Talking to Eddie when he was sober was easy, he didn’t go on unnecessary tangents, he wasn’t as flirty and he looked oh so pretty when he was healthy.

His usual red eyes now pure, no sign of distress in them. He even started taking care of his hair, his usual frizzy locks now smooth and curly. He was doing better. You were proud of him.

“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you today,” he says, pulling out all of his clothes and settling them into a pile. He gathers them all in his arms, walking towards a washer.

“Aren’t you gonna sort them?” you ask, chuckling to yourself as Eddie struggles with the large amount of clothes he has in his hands.

“I never do?” he says as if it's almost a question.

“Well, I’m sure you have some 200 dollar shirts in there that are begging to be sorted,”

“My uh- lady at home usually does it. This is how I used to do laundry when I was a kid,”

You roll your eyes, motioning for him to come back to the table.

You sort his dirty clothes for him, it feels pathetic but the smile he has on his face as you help him makes it somewhat worth it.

“You’ve gotta sort lights from darks. I’d suggest separating your whites too but I don’t want you to keel over,”

He chuckles, grabbing the pile of darks and carrying them to a washer. He puts in his quarters, handing you some so you can start the pile of lights.

“So what are you up to for the rest of the day?” he questions as he strolls back to the tables where your clothes still lay.

“Nothing really, apartment hunting for a little bit and then back to the motel,” you gather your pile of clothes, turning towards the washers and placing the items inside. Eddie swoops in front of you and puts quarters in for you, you playfully roll your eyes but smile up at him nonetheless.

“Oooh, that should be fun,” he scratches at the back of his neck, “I uh- owe you for bailing me out so just let me know what you need for the security deposit and I’ll write a check,”

“Thank you Eddie, but you don’t have to. I lost your jacket, I bailed you out, were even,”

Eddie shakes his head, curls flying in all directions at the erratic movement.

“Someone stole my jacket from you, you didn’t just leave it for anyone to take. Plus I can,so let me,” he states, eyes locking with yours in a stare.

“Just let me, it’s the least I can do-” you nod your head, allowing the man to help you pay your way into a new apartment.

A feat that was easier said than done, you had looked at 5 separate places with Christa, none of them being anything close to what you wanted or needed.

You finally decide to call it quits and return back to the hotel, smiling when you see Eddie waiting outside your door with a pizza box in his hand. Christa sends you a wink as you get out of the car, a soft “enjoy yourself” falling from her lips.

Eddie grins widely when he sees you step out of Christa’s car.

“Sorry- thought you were home from your hunting,” he motions towards your car that is parked a few spots down from your door.

“Kinda got stuck at our last place. Creepy landlord,” you straighten out the pleats of your skirt as Eddie sucks in a breath in through his teeth, wincing dramatically.

“At least you dodged that bullet,” he says as he leans against the doorframe waiting for you to open it, his slim shoulders doing a good job at boxing you in. The smell of his cologne makes your mind whir, gone are the days of dried puke and alcohol.

You unlock the door, Eddie’s hand pushing it open forcing you to duck underneath his arm. He lets the door close softly behind him once he is inside, being sure to lock the deadbolt.

He places the pizza box on the small table by the window. He draws the curtains, blocking out the rest of the world and turning the room into a space that was only for the two of you.

“Got your favorite,” he motions to the box with his thumb as he walks up behind you. You’re stepping out of your shoes when Eddie’s arm snakes around your front, under your arm and resting on your collarbone. He’s come over every night since the cleaning fiasco, you talk about the ten-day-whirlwind that the two of you have embarked on and get to know eachother even more.

Eddie spends most of his time apologizing when you recall anything from the short time of knowing him, ashamed of how much he had hurt you.

It’s been a week of take-out, today bringing you to day seventeen. Ten days of hell and seven of something in between a raging fire and a rumbling earthquake- scalding your skin and shaking off the dust settled deep in your soul.

His arm comes undone from you, his hand tracing down your tricep, over your elbow, ghosting down your forearm, finally grasping your hand as he draws you towards the radio sitting in the corner of the room.

Eddie liked to dance- he twirled to what he called your “teeny bopper” music, he swayed his hips to country music, he even danced to his own music when you forced him to listen to it one night.

Eddie danced with you tonight- his fingers fit perfectly through yours, his hand rested right in the dip of your waist, his lips looked pretty in this light.

“Are you thinking about kissing me, sweets?” He questions, a smile forming on his lips as he leans forward. You blush nervously, nodding your head. His smile gets even wider before he leans in, lips capturing yours.

Both his hands come to cup your face, cheeks tugging and eyes crinkled as he leans in further. His other hand comes to rest on your hip, pushing backwards until your knees hit the back of the couch. You pull away, shifting from foot to foot as you wait for Eddie to take the reins. He chuckles softly before capturing your lips in another soft kiss before pulling away and plopping down onto the couch. He pulls you into his lap, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, all the way to your shoulder.

His eyes meet yours, his hands fumbling with the edge of your sweater. A plea on the edge of his lips as he looks up at you. You nod, letting him remove the garment from your body. He audibly moans at the sight, your breasts bouncing freely only leaving you in your skirt.

“Please tell me you have panties on,” he mumbles, hand snaking down to your center. He bites his lips and groans when he’s met with your sticky folds.

“S’ laundry day,” you giggle.

His fingers trace through your slick, he has half a mind to shove the fingers in your face, make you lick yourself off of him. But When he glances over your face, your pouting lips and furrowed brow send his heart racing. He decides right then that you're an angel. He thinks there’s no way you're real, there is absolutely no way you’re here with him.

He wraps his arm around your waist, standing from his place on the couch. He walks you back to the bed as you kiss up the side of his neck. He lands you on the middle, arms caging you in as he leans down to kiss you. He’s much slower this time, desperate clashing of teeth melting to well thought out movements.

You pull away from him, hands coming to mess with the edge of his old band tee.

“You’re much too dressed for the occasion, Mr. Munson,” you giggle out. He smiles down at you, getting up to strip out of his clothes. You hold your breath when he pulls down his boxers, his cock springing out and slapping against his belly. It’s big and you’re sure he knows it.

He crawls back up the bed, kissing from your ankle to your neck. He splays kisses across your face, finally meeting your lips in a sweet kiss.

His eyes bore into yours as he pushes some hair from your face before kissing you again, but he pulls away much too quickly for your liking.

“M’ gonna eat you out now, kay’?” he mumbles against your lips, you nod, throwing your head back as Eddie begins to kiss back down your body. He stops at the waistband of your skirt, mumbling something to himself before hooking his fingers in the band and pulling the fabric over your bottom.

He moans at the sight of your center, leaning forward to press a kiss to your thighs before diving in completely. He licks from your hole, up to your clit, tongue dancing around the bundle of nerves. Your knuckles grip the white sheets, mind reeling as he works you up to an orgasm. He laps at your pussy, pulling away to spit on his fingers.

His ringed fingers come to push through the sticky mess the two of you have created, one finally pushing in, drawing a guttural moan from your lips. The cold metal of his rings bump against your skin every time he thrusts his fingers in and out. He works you up to three before pulling them out completely, mouth still assaulting your clit, causing you to squeal.

“You ready f’me?” he questions, mouth still between your legs. You tug on his hair, pulling him away from your center, nodding profusely with a smile on your face.

He pushes you further up the bed, settling in between your legs. His cock nudges at your hole, the tip catching inside, you mewl quietly when he pushes in. He leans down, arms settling on either side of your head, his hair tickling your nose as he looks down at you intently.

“So pretty,” You mumble, hand coming up to cup his cheek and draw him into a kiss. He smiles into it, pulling away and admiring the way your face contorts every time he punches that spongy spot inside you.

“S’ all you, sweets,” He moans, forehead pressing against yours as he drives into you. The pace he sets draws moan after moan from deep within you.

Your hand stays cupping his face, kissing him again, your lips barely brushing his when he pulls away.

“C’mon pretty girl, tell me what it is. Wanna know what I should be moaning while I ruin you.”

You shutter a breath out- your name falling off your lips and into the air.

“F-fuck..” he’s full on smiling, his eyes crinkling as he languidly thrusts inside you.

“Eds-Eddie. M’ close,”

“Shit-ok. Where do you want me?” He picks up his pace, cock nudging at all the right places.

“Inside- want you inside,” Your legs lock around his waist, forcing him to bury himself to the hilt as he spills inside of you.

He’s giggling when you finally release him, pulling his still hard cock from inside you and smearing around the mess that has formed between your legs.

“Look so good painted all pretty for me. Could take a picture and look at it all tour long. Would never haveta’ look anywhere else. Just me this little memory and my hand,” he’s pulling your ass cheeks apart, releasing them before his thumb hooks into your pussy as he rummages around on the side table- careful not to knock down the countless polaroids around the camera.

“Can I sweets? Take a pretty little polaroid of this pretty little pussy?” he thrusts his thumb in further, drawing more cum out of you. You giggle when you feel it run down your thighs as you give him a soft hum in response to his question.

He snaps a picture of your most bare area, the idea makes you blush but then there's the idea of Eddie- using it. That makes it feel alright.

“Just wanna take one more,” he says as his cock nudges at your hole again, the puffy skin wanting to scream no but the burn short circuiting your brain at the same time.

He snaps another picture once he’s half inside you, your hands covering your face as you giggle.

“Enough of that,” he says with a small chuckle as he tosses the camera back onto the bedside table. His hands grip your hips as he lazily thrusts into you.

After finally having enough of Eddie’s teasing, you push at Eddie’s belly, signaling him to stop. He flashes you a confused look as he pulls out but soon gets the idea once you scramble off the bed and begin pushing him towards the couch.

He flops down onto the cushions, legs spreading wide. Deft fingers wrapping around your hips as you sink down onto him, your arms snake around his neck and pull at the hair sitting at the nape.

Eddie looks up at you in awe, his eyes never leaving yours as you ride him. His lips are parted, soft breaths and moans tumbling from his mouth.

“Shit- baby I- I can’t last like this-” He groans as he tries to stop your movements. You grab his hand, raising it and placing it on your breast.

“C’mon sweets, come in me again,” He moans sweetly at his own pet name being used against him, his hips stilling once he is settled inside you. He buries his head in your neck as he comes, teeth biting in as he silences himself.

You let him stay inside you for a while, finally pulling off of him when Eddie begins to rub at the skin on your hips.

You’re up on wobbly legs, shooting Eddie a glare when he begins to chuckle.

He throws his hands up in defense and motions to the mess between his legs. Cum has dripped down his balls and pooled in his seat.

“Gonna need to spot clean this one miss housekeeper,” He winces as he gets up, collecting you in his arms and placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Let’s shower, yeah?”

You nod, taking his hand as he guides you to the small porcelain tub. He turns on the water, testing it with his fingers before stepping in once it has warmed up. He extends his hand to you, thanking him quietly once you're standing before him in the tiny shower.

He takes a step back, moving out of the spray and allowing you to warm up under the water. You take turns getting your bodies warmed up, Eddie finally assuming his position behind you washing your hair.

“You mentioned tour,” you blush as you recall the memory from moments ago. Eddie’s stops scrubbing your scalp and sighs.

“I- I’m leaving,” he says in an almost whimper.

“Oh, when?”

“Two days,”

183 notes · View notes

taifenggg · 3 months

Note

Helloooo, I have a request (you can ignore it if you want!), how about a scenario like the one in the song "Why'd you only call me when you're high?" from Arctic Monkeys? I was listening to it and it came to my mind 🤭🤭(Obey Me! characters ; little smut please ♡)

Content Warning(s): NSFW, swearing lol, mentions of being drunk,, slightly ooc characters? :/

Character(s): GN!Reader(no pronouns mentioned)

Authors Notes: hi there, idk if i did this request justice but i tried my best! you didnt specify which characters youd like so i took the liberty of choosing them, hope thats alright ^^

nsfw under the cut! minors dni or i will block you :)

Reminder to abide by my guidelines for NSFW content tysm :]

Guidelines for NSFW Content [ ◇ ]

drabble under the cut!

It's fairly obvious how much he loves you.

He's completely and utterly infatuated with you. Even now, as he collapses onto his bed, not completely drunk but slightly tipsy and buzzed. Thoughts of you occupy his mind. You are all he thinks about, even in his hazy stupor.

Even as he's leaning against pillows stacked neatly on his bed, desperately fisting his cock into his hand, wishing it was your hand instead of his. His moans come out breathy, his chest rising and falling as he pants out your name. His bangs cling to his face, and despite everything he does he struggles to keep his noises down. There's no doubt in his mind that at any second, someone could burst through the door and see just what he was up to, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Fuck MC-" he whines keeling over slightly as he edges himself, on the brink of his release, but purposefully slowing down. He can see your face, your smile, the way your lips quirk up into a smirk. His mind wanders and he envisions you, between his legs, smiling up at him oh so innocently as you jack him off. He shudders at the thought, feeling heat rush to his face.

More I get through the gears Incapable of makin' alright decisions And havin' bad ideas

He shouldn't be thinking about you like this, and he would be lying to himself if he claimed he didn't feel guilty over getting off to the fantasy of you helping him out. But he's in too deep. You're like quicksand, the more he struggles, the more you draw him in.

"Shit-!" he gasps out, his body shuddering as he releases messily all over his stomach. His hands still as he catches his breath, the post-nut clarity starting to catch up to him, seemingly sobering him up. He groans softly as he presses his hands to his face, his cheeks seemingly burning even more.

After some debating with himself, he picks up his phone, swiping to your contact, shooting you a quick text.

'MC, I know it's late but I really need to see you right now. It's urgent.'

He tosses his phone over to the side, groaning softly as he leans back more against his bed, waiting for your response. Thankfully, he doesn't have to wait too long. A notification from his phone startles him as he scrambles to clean himself up as best as he can before reaching over and unlocking his phone, seeing a new text message from you.

'I heard you went drinking and got kind of wasted, you should probably rest.'

He grimaces slightly before responding back to you.

'Please.'

He watches as your three dots jump up and down for a bit, and he imagines you formulating your response. And sure enough, you respond.

You said you gotta be up in the morning Gonna have an early night .... Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?

Another pause.

'Fine, I'm coming over now.'

After all, who were you to deny your favorite boy, especially when he's especially needy for you?

MAMMON, Leviathan, ASMODEUS, Beelzebub, Simeon, Solomon

To Masterlist [ ◇ ]

Guidelines for NSFW content [ ◇ ]

Back to Navigation [ ◇ ]

197 notes · View notes

oddballwriter · 4 months

Text

Personal Nurses

Summary: You get sick with something and need to stay home, and so your lovely boyfriends take up the job of nursing you back to health.

Warnings: Mentions of being sick (sore throat, stuffy nose, and fever). Taking medicine. Half Google translated Spanish, my high school Spanish is really rusty the grammar may be weird. Other wise a nice wholesome sick comfort fic.

Author’s Snip: Fun fact, this was originally going to be a fic where it was about Abi (the reader and system’s daughter that have a bit of an unofficial series with) getting sick. But I decided to make it about the boys taking care of you because I got a nasty cold a while ago and wanted to see this.

Notes: Again, the grammar in Jake’s Spanish speaking might be not so good because my Spanish is rusty as hell.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 692

Being sick wasn’t that great. Sure, it got you out of needing to do things, but you also had to deal with actually being sick. And that’s never great.

You went to bed last night with a tickle in your throat and runny nose that you thought would pass in the morning, but then you woke up dying for water, barely able to breathe through your nose, and now you were burning up like a whore in church.

When Steven eventually woke up and found you in the kitchen you could tell he knew. You made an attempt to brush it off by saying “I’ll just drink some tea and sit under an air conditioner today.” but you could see Steven and the rest of them in that brain vote no on even letting you get out into your work clothes.

So now you get to wallow in bed and have three personal nurses.

Since Steven was the one who woke up with the body, so he was the one who set everything up. He politely shooed you back into bed, placed extra pillows, called your work for you, made you your tea and breakfast, and brought all that to you in bed with a cold rag and medicine. He also checked your temperature which, of course earned an “Oh, love. That’s no good.” that seemed more like him thinking out loud.

Steven was the one mostly in charge of your comfort and doing things for you when you’re sick. If you wanted an extra blanket, you got one. If your fever rag got lukewarm, he made it cool again. Do you want more water or tea? You got it. Is it too bright? He’ll draw the curtains for you. If anything he was more of a bell boy than a nurse. But it still made him blush a little when you called him that.

Marc was the one in charge of making sure you got your medicine in, and he was on top of it. Apparently, when you were taking a nap after eating breakfast, Marc took the body to go to the pharmacy and get new medicine and vitamins because “The one we have isn’t strong enough.” as if he was able to tell just by looking at you. When he came back, he had you eat some bread, saying “So that it doesn’t mess with your stomach if it's empty already.” and also “It helps it stay down. It has something to stick to.”.

“How do you know all this?” you questioned, to which Marc simply said “Trial and error,”, “Now take the vitamins. It helps your immune system fight it off.” Marc orders. You just shrug and comment “Whatever you say, Nurse Spector.”.

Jake was dead set on making food for you, making Marc go to a whole different market while he was out, just to buy ingredients for the soup he wanted to make you.

“Qué no, Marc. No puedes compras los sopas enlatadas.” Jake said to himself with a laugh. “Mind letting me in on the joke?” Marc asked as he watched Jake cut up the ingredients from the reflection in the soup. “You couldn’t buy them canned soup, Marc. Canned soup doesn’t do it. You gotta make it.” Jake explained, clearly referring to the whole ‘make it with love’ thing. “Well, that’s what we would have,” Marc mentioned. “Because that’s all we got.” Jake said back, “But not for them.” he added as to pointed to where you were resting. “They’d do the same for us.” Jake stated confidently.

When the soup was settled and done, and cooled down enough, Jake brought the bowl straight to you in bed. You thought he was going to bring a little table like Steven and Marc did, but it was clear when Jake kept holding the bowl and took up a spoonful of it and held it towards your mouth. You say his name with a scoff and he smiles. “Come on, mi amor. Steven and Marc got to play nurse today.” Jake teased. You roll your eyes and decide to humor him and let him feed you.

#moon knight #moonknight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader

204 notes · View notes

chrollohearttags · 1 year

Text

containment • e. jaeger

synopsis: you’re the newest female guard at an all male prison. No one said it’d be easy but you were prepared for anything..except the new inmate on your cell block.

themes: forbidden romance/relationship, prisoner eren, modern au, correctional officer reader (black and fem coded) power play, lots of fantasizing and masturbation, consensual sex, he’s also a heavy switch and minors do not and i cannot stress this e-fucking-nough..interact!

cw:3.5K

📝: I’m up at 3am, letting my insane thoughts win again so please don’t hold this against me if it’s too long or just wild in general but this is just some notes/imagines to what will be a full, multi-part fic eventually, just wanted to mainly focus on the spicy stuff for now.

you were one of the only three female guards to ever work at the state’s all male maximum security prison. A facility notorious for housing some of the county’s most terrifying criminals..naturally, it was said to be no place for a woman and you were subjected to harassment, heckling and sometimes violence but you didn’t allow it to stop your goals. As physically strong as you were stubborn, you didn’t fear them in the slightest.

it was only six months after your assignment to the close containment unit that he was put onto your floor and things began to shift..an inmate by the name of eren jaeger; he was most certainly different from the other convicts you made contact with on a daily basis…

never gives you a hard time, always complied and is always in his cell either drawing or reading. If they didn’t give him time off for good behavior, you didn’t know who would get it. Also was super intelligent.

sort of intimidated the other guards and prisoners because of his eerie silence. They didn’t know why he’d been on a floor like this but act so well behaved. no one ever got on his bad side though..they knew better because he’d remind them why he was locked up in the first place.

has a slick ass mouth and every time you asked what he was there for, his response was “whatever they say I did.”

you didn’t make it your mission to be chummy with the prisoners, but he made the job a bit more tolerable. “good morning, officer (l/n)..” it was how he always greeted you..in addition to a little faint smile and telling you how pretty you were that day, whether barefaced or with some light makeup on and oddly enough, he always knew the scent of your perfume. “I can compliment my favorite guard, can’t I? Is that allowed?” the sarcasm and sweet gestures were something you had grown accustomed to. “You’re as cute as you are dangerous, Jaeger. Too bad for you, they don’t reduce sentences for adorable one liners.” although those words should have meant nothing come from a criminal…

it’s one day, however..when you were seeing him off to library cleanup duty that it went from harmless flirtation to a heated, forbidden love affair. “Not to be gross or anything but I gotta go take a piss, officer. I’ve been holding it since we left the cell.” he had been working diligently without a break for two hours so you’d allow it.

never had to worry about him trying anything as he had seen you take down men twice his size by yourself and even had subdued him once after a fight was incited by somebody else but he didn’t back down. (an ass whooping from you he’d soon never forget).

during that little bathroom break, you accidentally caught a glimpse of what he was working with…down south! You’d try to look away but really couldn’t help yourself. The man was hung like a horse. As a guard, you were to remain professional so the thoughts had to subside.

it was all but inevitable when you’d take him to the rec yard for exercise and you’d watch him do curl ups on the metal bars. His entire muscular back and arms riddled in tattoos; some professional pieces and others by the tip of an ink pen etched in prison. It’d be a huge violation if you’d ever acted on them and to you, that’s what made the fantasy all the more hotter.

on the trip back to finish up his last bit of library work, he utters something to you that made you freeze… “I know you were watching me earlier, officer..in the bathroom. I could feel those pretty little eyes of yours staring. Such a pervert.” Muttering sarcastically because his nasty ass loved the thought! To which you’d call his bluff and ask him so what if you were and he’d double down on it. “Then next time I’ll let you come help.” He always had a witty, smart mouthed comeback for everything.

it was getting harder to deny the sexual tension that was brewing though and as it were only the two of you left, the banter would become more and more risqué. Completely inappropriate and wrong but it felt so right..

“Can I get a good night kiss?” asks it every night when you take him back to his cell, to which you’d only ignore and instead, shove a stick of gum between his lips as a reward for his hard work..it was as close it were going to get for now.

it was when you got home that those disgusting desires could run rampant. In the solitude of your shower or bedroom, you were free to fantasize about this man and all of the things you wanted him to do you. Touching yourself, wishing it were him…a filthy criminal. From pinning your legs back and pumping you full of dick. Slapping, choking and tugging on your hair. Riding his pretty little face as you came all over his tongue. unbeknownst, he felt the same.

truthfully, it couldn’t be helped..watching the plump curvature of your ass sway in those black uniform cargos and your big supple tits tightly stuffed into that grey polo with the prison’s insignia on the left breast pocket every day drove him crazy. Those plump, juicy lips always covered in gloss that he wouldn’t mind shoving his cock between. Holding your head still while he throat fucks you into oblivion. And he just knew that pussy was fat with a mean grip. Many of nights had he lied in this cell, quietly stroking himself to the thought of his favorite guard bouncing on his dick, riding him before he’d take over and fuck up into you..smacking that round ass as he covers it in baby oil.

hearing you cry out his name..telling him how big it is as he forces all nine of those thick inches in you until it fits..just a few of the dozens of scenarios he’d play in his dirty, perverted mind. It had been years since he’d felt the touch of a woman so it was hard to restrain himself. He’d end up biting his sheets a way to gag his moans as his enclosed fist pumped until he’d splatter a giant nut all over his knuckles. Luckily he was alone in here.

when you returned to work a couple days later, that steamy tension had reached its boiling point and during day duty, you couldn’t take anymore. You needed him now! Favor was in your corner because he happened to be caught with cigarettes he smuggled from another inmate, which would have been a big infraction.

but instead, you snuck him off to a nearby closet where he’d become your personal fuck toy for the afternoon in exchange for your silence. It was his own damn fault..violating the rules and looking so damn good all the time. And he didn’t hesitate!

“You can keep a secret, can’t you, officer? I promise I won’t tell if you won’t.” taunting as he forced you back on his thick cock with his shackled hands. He’s made you squirt more times than any man ever has and it had been so long since he’d been in some pussy and especially one this tight so you had to keep him quiet because he was losing his shit. Didn’t hold it against him when he came too quick and..inside of you because you had been waiting a long time for it.

now, it’s become a regular occurrence. You can’t leave him alone and vice versa. Makes sure that no one else give you a hard time ever again and would handle it personally if they did. Guards included..in return you make sure he gets a little more on his commissary or drops him in a few cigarettes or snacks when it’s permitted. Even letting him get extra time outside, just so you could have him to yourself.

Can’t exactly communicate via cell phones so he writes you love letters that he hides in areas around the prisons for you to read when you get home. Full of filthy detail of how he’d be fucking you if he were a free man, how much he adores you and of course, all the trouble the two of you will get into the next time his beloved CO comes into work.

2K notes · View notes

heymrspatel · 5 months

Note

ian’s feeling a little self conscious and mickeys just straight up loving on his husband and telling him how sexy and fine he looks!

ohohooo boy you've hit me right in the chest with this one... ok, let's see!

---

ian's having one of those days. those days that don't happen super often anymore, but they do happen. waking up feeling physically heavy, groggy, slow. the harsh lighting in the bathroom making him notice those extra soft bits on his body, where he used to be taught and lean. he looks down, where his tummy sticks out above the band of his boxers, sighs.

eyes back up, he brushes his teeth, gazes at his reflection, and acknowledges that this is a fleeting feeling - because nowadays he looks at himself and sees it. happiness and health and comfort in his settled life. he loves it. he's sturdy, strong, beefy. he's soft, holdable, grounding. he sees it, he knows, mickey reminds him.

he sees it, washes his toothbrush, wipes at his face, takes a final look. he knows, but it's just one of those days. he turns off the judgmental fluorescents and pads back into the bedroom towards his....

my god... there, face bathed in soft light and gorgeous, mickey. he's shifted in the ten or so minutes ian's been gone. sprawled out and entirely tangled in the comforter. left hand sticking out and clutching ian's pillow - like he was searching, wanting, grasping - coming up empty. he's awake now. ian moves, the floors creak, mickey's eyes zero in on him.

"do you know how fucking cold it is in this room?... why the fuck are you up this early?" and ian's quiet, suddenly realizing he came to a stop in front of their full length mirror. a glance at himself, back at mickey. maybe he doesn't have to be up yet, it's saturday. maybe he can spare lounging around a bit more. glance and back. he should get under there, mickey said he's cold. glance, back. he doesn't move, rooted in place. "...come back under here and get on me!" glance...

"babyface... c'mere"

he moves. mickey rolling away, untangling, giving him his space in bed back... immediately shifting back and attaching himself to him. "always leaving me here in the mornings... can't stick around for me? hmm?" the drama of it all making ian chuckle and press his lips to mickey's forehead. he feels mickey's hands wander around his chest and down to his belly, making him draw in a breath and stiffen. he sees mickey's eyes squint and his nose scrunch in the process. a small tut escaping his lips. here it comes.

"got myself a human heater... warm and soft. teddy bear mother fucker." and that's a new one! "you gotta stop leaving me here every morning. you're like one of them weighted blankets you're always going on about... hmmph... comfy." he nuzzles into ian's chest, wrapping tighter around him, and breathing so deeply. smiling. "smell so good... i think i get why you're always sniffin'." giving quick cute pecks along his collar bone. "so many freckles. all over. this one here is my favorite." he moves to the hollow of his neck. giving it a little lick.

and ian can't help but giggle really. because his husband is so in tune, because he always knows when something is up, because his licks are tickling him!

mickey pulls until he's securely pinned under ian. "my big guy. cover me just right" his hands begin their familiar dance. over ian's strong shoulders, down the muscles of his back, lightly scratching back up. "you threw me around so good last night. was fucking airborne at one point."

oh. these giggly kisses are some of ian's favorites!

"you gave it to me so good and hard, made me grab on to all of you, huh?" his hands are everywhere, covering ian's body with love. "so sexy. do you know how good you feel and look when you're overpowering me like that?" the complete contrast of his statement and his soft lips making ian all fuzzy and warm.

"so good. so soft. so strong. so hard." a mantra. each declaration punctuated with the sweetest kisses. his hands wandering, grabbing, pressing ian's weight down. soft little moans making an appearance.

and god if ian doesn't feel like he's floating! high, on a cloud. sustained by mickey's touches, his sounds, his scent. his words, his words, his words. breaking through and helping him see and remember what he already knows. because today is one of those days, yes, and it'll take more than this to claw his way fully out... but he's being uplifted and loved and touched in the right ways. in the ways that wiggle in and help chip at that wall and appears in times like these.

he sees his strong arms framing mickey's head, how his size and weight are making him feel. he knows he's good, he's healthy, he feels his heart pumping strong and full of love in his chest. it'll take more than this, but this helps. every part of this helping, chipping away.

he breathes, he kisses, mickey moans...

he sees, he knows, mickey reminds him...

#you struck a chord clearly ladskjf hit close to home... i almost instantly knew what i wanted to say but took forever #bc i feel inadequate and imposter-ish when writing but here i am... rambling. why is this so long? bye.#is the grammar shit? is there a typo? is this dumb? i pretend i do not see #tw body image #shameless #gallavich #ian x mickey #anon #asks #j ramble drabbles

190 notes · View notes

lainiespicewrites · 4 months

Text

The Christmas Cabin 2-Ice skating

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! I genuinely intended to get this posted before Christmas buuuuuuttt I ended up with a horrible toothache ache and that was a whole thing. And it's real hard to feel sexy and write smut when your tooth is screaming at you.. and then the holidays.... ugh ...ANYWAY here is part 2 of the Christmas cabin! Happy New Year Y'all!!!

Warnings: Umm So much smut! Cursing, rough sex, daddy kink, oral. the usual suspects

Per usual I was to excited about posting this so I probably/definitely didn't proofread. so Yes I do own those mistakes. I'm sorry. I'm human okay!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a perfectly relaxing night I had some of the best sleep in a long time. In the morning I actually woke up before Sy for once and snuck downstairs to make breakfast. I turned on some soft christmas music in the background and sang to myself in the kitchen while I cooked. Aika made her way downstairs at the smell of bacon. I couldn’t help but laugh when Sy stumbled down the stairs a minute behind her.

“Like father, like daughter.” I teased. He smiled and came over kissing my shoulder.

“Smells amazing baby, you didn’t have to cook.” He said.

“You always do it for me, go relax,” I smiled at him. He walked over and let Aika out the back door. Then he sat at the breakfast bar watching me. I looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” He smirked.

“Enjoying the show?” I asked. Trying to play coy.

“Only thing that would make it better is if you were naked.” He winked. I blushed and bit my lip trying to focus on flipping the pancakes. When I finished cooking we sat at the little table. Sy pulled me into his lap again. “I like having you close to me.” He mumbled as he nuzzled his nose against my neck, softly tickling me with his beard. I let out a little whimper trying to hold it together.

Things had sort of slowed down a bit in that department and I know it was driving him crazy. I had been teasing him a lot lately too. But he was never one to push for anything. He was always respectful of any boundaries, not that I was ever afraid he’d cross any. But it’d been a week or so since we’d been intimate. He was sick with a cold last week so we hadn’t stayed together much and when we settled into bed last night as much as I could tell he was trying nothing happened. It was torture for me too but I liked that I held all the cards. And it made it so much more fun, when we finally did get there.

“Sy, we’ve got things to do today. Don’t distract me.” I pouted, wiggling a little in his lap. He chuckled, squeezing my hip to hold me still.

“We’re on vacation baby, we ain’t got nothin to do.” I could feel his smirk against my neck as he started to leave a trail of wet kisses from my shoulder to my ear. He really knew what he was doing. And it almost worked.

“But Bear,” I turned in his lap so I was straddling him now. His hands went right back to my waist. I wrapped an arm around his shoulder and the other hand was absentmindedly drawing shapes on his bare chest. “We gotta decorate the tree. And you said something about an ice skating rink, that sounds so fun baby, can we go?” He let out a long sigh and shook his head. I could feel the deep laugh in his chest.

“You’re killing me Sugar, you know it?” I smiled, still scratching at his chest hair. “Yeah, I’ll take you skating baby girl.” He kissed me softly.

We finished breakfast and got dressed for the day. I annoyed him some more and put the christmas music on again when I drug the ornaments back out. I started singing again in the living room while I wrapped garland around the tree. I was lost in “o’holy night,” when I felt his arms around me again.

“Hey handsome,” I smiled. He rocked us back and forth for a moment, laying his head on my shoulder.

“You never told me you could sing like that baby, I could listen to you all day.” I blushed.

“It’s nothing, just enjoying the music.” I said.

“You sound like an angel, sugar, I could listen to christmas music all day if it was coming from you,” He kissed my cheek.

“You’re so sweet. I guess I didn’t realize you’d never heard me. ” I turned in his arms, pecking him on the lips softly. “We can work on the tree later. I’m really excited to go skating!” He slid his hands down and smacked my ass and I let out a squeal. Logan chuckled.

“Alright Darlin’, go get in the truck.”

After a short drive into town we parked outside of a local public park. The ice skating rink wasn’t all that busy today which was great, because I was sure to fall a few times. It’s been years since I've been ice skating. Logan immediately grabbed my hand when I hopped out of the truck. He kept me close the whole time we walked around the park. We finally found the place to rent our skates and settled on a bench outside the rink to put them on. “Okay, I’ve gotta warn ya, you remember when we were bowling, and you asked what I can’t do? This.. this is what I can’t do.” I tried really hard not to laugh. Because he looked so serious. Really I tried. But I laughed so hard I snorted. He pouted. “You making fun of me baby?” He asked.

“No, no it’s just,” I took a deep breath trying to calm down. “I didn’t actually expect you to be good at everything Sy. I’m probably not going to be good at this either.” I chuckled. He smiled a little, brushing his thumb across my cheek.

“Such a sweet girl,” he mumbled. “You always find the bright side to everything, don't ya?” I blushed.

“I’m a high school counselor Sy, it’s my job. At least to try.” I brushed my fingers up and down his big arm a few times. “You’re stalling,” I chuckled. “You can’t be that bad Bear.” His eyes lit up from the nickname. I don’t know when I started using it. But he accepted it without hesitation. I think he honestly liked it. During all of this back and forth I’d managed to get my skates on. “You can’t back out on me now, you promised.” He chuckled.

“To be fair, I promised to take you skating, I didn’t promise I would skate. My balance is horrible.”

“Yeah all those big muscles make you top heavy,” I winked. “Come on big guy, we’ll get you one of those plastic penguins to hold on to.” He raised an eyebrow and smirked. Finally putting on the skates.

“You makin fun of me?” he asked.

“Me? Never!” I chuckled.

I tried really hard. I did. Let the record show. That I attempted not to laugh. We walked out to the ice on wobbly feet. I had a pretty rough start myself. I had to hold on to the ledge until muscle memory kicked in. I was still a little shaky. But I was able to slowly skate along the edge of the rink. Sy… well, the funniest thing I’ve ever seen is a big, strong, 6’1, rugged, grizzly bear of a man, afraid to fall.

“I can’t do it,” He shook his head, he had a white knuckled grip on the ledge.

“You sure as hell can’t do it if you don’t let go, Logan,” I bit my lip to keep the smirk off my face.

“I’m gonna fall on my ass if I do.” He grumbled. I skated over to him and gently grabbed his arm. He looked panicked. My poor Bear. He was never gonna live this down.

“Come on baby, you can hold my hand, I got you.” I teased. He rolled his eyes.

“I hate you,” He he mumbled

“You do not,” I giggled as he grabbed my hand, slowly letting go of the wall.

“You know if I fall you’re going down with me.” He stated. I pushed off slowly. As tightly as he was holding my hand you’d think I was giving birth. I pulled Sy along with my trying to coach the coach. But it wasn’t going well.

“It’s a good thing you don’t like hockey.” I snorted when he stumbled again trying to push off from the wall. We almost made it around once. He leaned in close and growled in a low voice.

“You’re pushing your luck today little girl.” I bit my lip and smirked. I loved getting him all riled up like this. The thing is. Our relationship is much more than sexual. But in all honesty we can’t get enough of each other. I love pushing his buttons. I know that it sets something off in him. The night after our first date, he was so dominant and in control. And I loved that. I did everything I could to bring that out in him. Sometimes it meant being a brat. He’d never admit it. But he enjoyed that too.

“Ooh I’m so scared, you can’t even stand up straight without losing your balance cowboy.” I smirked.

He grabbed the wall with one hand and grabbed my waist with the other spinning me around to face him. I almost lost my balance but I held onto the ledge keeping me upright. He licked his lips looking me over.

“If I could, I'd bend you over right here for everyone to see, baby girl. You’ve been teasing me for days. You wanna keep pushing it? we won’t make it home before I fill up that pretty little pussy, do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” I let out a deep breath, keeping my eyes on his. Even off his game, he was still so intimidating and intense.

“I’ll give you a headstart back to the truck.” He smirked. Again, I tried. I couldn’t help myself. I started to skate back to the entrance but I stopped and looked back at him.

“Not like you’d be able to keep up anyway Daddy,” He stopped and stared at me, raising an eyebrow.

“Get your ass in the truck, now.” he growled. I bit my lip and nodded. I switched back to my regular boots and returned the skates. Logan was only a few steps behind me when I started to walk out to the truck. I was almost there when I felt grab my hip and spin me around. He backed me up against the passenger door cupping my jaw and tracing my lips with his thumb. “Give me one good reason not to bend you over the seat and take you right here.” He mused. I pouted and laid my hand on his chest.

“It’s cold Bear,” He chuckled and pressed his body closer to mine, completely pinning me to the truck. He slid his hand down to my neck resting his thumb and fingers on either side squeezing softly.

“You got yourself into this sugar, don’t play innocent now.” He finally leaned in and kissed me roughly, keeping his hand on my neck. I moaned into his mouth, letting him take control. Reaching between us I slid my hand over the growing bulge in his jeans and squeezed teasingly. He moaned, dropping his head to my shoulder.

“What’s stopping you?” I smirked. He was putty in my hands now. He kissed my neck softly letting his hands wander over my curves. He stopped suddenly and chuckled to himself.

“A public indecency charge, get in the truck baby girl, I’ll deal with you at home, this ain’t over,” he said and gave me one last kiss before he opened the door for me and smacked my ass as I turned to hop up into the truck.

The whole drive home he had one hand on the wheel and the other on my inner thigh. It was… well, it was never innocent, but it was less intense at first. He just rested it there letting me know he fully intended to keep me in check. It was so hot. I felt hot all over. With just one little touch. It sent sparks through me. That with one touch, one grip, he asserted his dominance. Maybe it was just because I let him. Or maybe it was because he was such a force to be reckoned with that something so simple demanded respect. Eventually, he started to move

his hand farther up my thigh, massaging it with his fingers and rubbing in slow circles with his thumb.

All I could think about was feeling those fingers inside me. His thumb pressed against my clit. I let out a pathetic whimper when his hand slid back down my thigh, his thumb brushing over my knee.

“Something wrong, sugar?” He looked over, that shit eating grin on his face, and caught my eye before looking back to the road.

“Your teasing,” I pouted. He raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

“Can dish it out but you can’t take it huh?” He smacked my thigh and smirked “fuckin love that sound.” He groaned and I let out another little whimper. “Bad girls don’t get treats darlin’ , you know that,” I pouted, laying my hand on top of his and rubbing the back of his hand with my thumb

“I’m sorry, Bear,” I said softly. He hummed turning his hand and tangling our fingers together. He brought my hand to his lips kissing my knuckles.

“Sorry ain’t gonna help you now baby doll, your fate is sealed.” I swallowed hard but I could feel my excitement begin to pool between my legs. When we got back to the cabin Logan barley had the truck in park before he jumped out. I just got my door open when he grabbed me by the hips and wrapped my legs around his waist pulling me out of the truck.

“Fuck,” I breathed out, holding onto his shoulders as he carried me inside. He kicked the door closed behind him and walked inside dropping me on the couch. He pushed his knee between my thighs and leaned down, crashing his lips to mine. I barely had time to catch my breath before he started pulling at my clothes. He made quick work undressing me. Tossing my sweater to the side kissing and sucking at my chest while he worked on getting my bra out of his way, and then pulling my leggings and panties off in one swift motion.

“Look at you,” he groaned, pulling away to admire me. I blushed instinctively trying to hide myself still not used to all of his love and attention. He grabbed my wrists pinning them to the arm of the couch with one hand while the other started to snake up my thigh. “Mm don’t hide darlin, Daddy wants to see his girl.” I bit my lip and nodded.

I kept my eyes on him the whole time. He used his knee to spread my legs wider and caressed the crease in my leg with his thumb. He was so close to where I needed him it was making my head spin. I whined softly grinding against nothing and he chuckled. “You’ve been a real fuckin brat today you know that?” He shook his head and tutted disapprovingly. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“I said I was sorry,” I pouted. He smiled softly

“I know you did, baby girl,” he sat up and pulled off his shirt. He leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to my lips. “And you really meant that huh?” He kissed my body. Stopping to pull my nipple between his teeth and teasing the other with his tongue. My back arched, moaning softly. As I nodded.

“I did, Daddy,” I breathed as he settled between my legs. He ghosted his thumb over my clit and smirked. He took his time kissing and biting at my inner thighs making sure to mark his territory. I was squirming beneath him dripping on to the couch. I bit my lip holding back a moan as he finally teased around my clit with his tongue. It took everything in me not to beg. It’s what exactly what he wanted. All at once he sat up on his knees and quickly flipped me on to my stomach pulling me up slightly so I was on my knees and I was on full display for him.

I heard the slap before I felt the sting. His hand came down hard on my ass.

“And I said it was too late for sorry baby.” I heard the smack again this time on the other cheek and squealed in surprise not expecting the second blow. “You think its fun to tease and make fun.” He growled in a low voice. He leaned over me his hot breath against my ear. He pressed his bulge against my aching pussy and I grinded against him trying to get some friction. He reached around and grabbed my neck holding me against his chest. “I’ll show you what Daddy can do sugar. And your gonna take it like a good girl. You understand me?” He pressed further into me and I nodded moaning. He grabbed my jaw turning my face to look at him. “Words baby.”

“Yes, Sir.” He growled deep in his chest and kissed me roughly.

“Thats my girl,” He groaned as he pulled away. I heard the metal clang of his belt and the sound of it dropping to the floor. He pushed his jeans and boxers down his thighs and immediately lined the head of his cock up with my entrance. He ran his head through the wetness there moaning softly to himself. Then without warning he fully shoved himself inside me. I let out a strangled moan struggling to get used to his size. Sy is in no sense of the word a small man. And as many times as we’ve had sex I still have trouble taking all of him. And with no prep before hand. I could feel him stretching me open for him.

He moved his hand around my neck to grip my hair making me arch for him. With the other on the back of the couch to steady himself, he started a relentless pace. Slamming into me and making me feel every inch of him. I was a mess underneath him moaning and crying out his name while he pounded into me. He shifted behind me pulling my hips up and thrusted back into me the new angle hitting my spot repeatedly. “Fuck Sy please,” I begged. I didn’t care anymore all I wanted was for him to make me cum for him. I need the release. I could feel it building quickly. The knot forming in my stomach. Despite his reckless pounding I knew he was still only getting started. Letting out soft little groans every time he sunk into me.

“You wanna cum baby?” He smirked, releasing his grip on my hair and delivering another sharp smack on my ass. I moaned loudly and nodded.

“Please, it feels so good!” I whined. Tears stinging my eyes now trying to wait for his permission.

“Brats don’t get treats Sugar,” He chuckled. He slowed his thrusts and pulled out of me completely. I whined, looking back at him pleadingly. He stood up and picked me up off the couch, I wrapped my legs around his waist and he pinned my back to the wall. He teased my entrance with his cock slowy pushing in again. I held onto him as he started to fuck me against the wall. I kissed him roughly moaning into his mouth as he picked up his pace again.

“I’m so sorry Bear,” I moaned starting to feel the fire build in my stomach again. God this is what I loved and hated about him. He was so fucking stubborn and incredibly thorough. He wasn’t gonna give this up. “I-I shouldn’t have teased you.” I stuttered trying to stay coherent. He smirked kissing my neck and grabbing my hips helping me meet his thrusts.

“Mhmm,” He groaned into my neck, “What else baby?” he teased. God I didn’t know if I could last I could already feel my legs shaking. I knew he could to.

“I won’t do it again. I-I promise, I love you baby, just please please let me cum.” I don’t know if I was making sense anymore. I would do anything for him at this point. He reached one hand between us rubbing my clit with his thumb and I screamed out his name letting my head hit the wall.

“That’s my good girl. I love hearing your desprate little moans. Cum for Daddy baby.” He kept his thumb on my clit while I barried my head into his neck moaning his name and letting my walls clamp around him. My whole body spasming while he holds me up. I let out a deep breath and he chuckled kissing me softly when I raised my head from his shoulder. He walked back to the couch and sat with me in his lap straddling him. Still fully hard inside me. He had incredible stamina but I knew he was desprate now too. I felt him twitch inside me begging for release. I braced myself on the back of the couch and started bouncing in his lap it wasn’t long before he was cursing under his breath. And grabbing my hips trying to take control again.

“Such a good girl, you look so good riding me.” he groaned smacking my ass as I countineud to ride his cock. I could feel another orgasm building. The thought of him filling me up making me feral. I moaned chasing my orgasm. I let him guide me on his cock as he started to get close himself. “Gonna fill this pussy up baby. Wanna see you dripping with my cum.” He moaned. Kissing me roughly and thrusting up into me he let out deep growl as he released inside me I continued to ride him as I reached my own high.

I collapsed against him in his lap. Laying my head on his shoulder as he wrapped his big arms around me holding me against his chest. After resting for a few minutes I broke the silence preparing soft kisses on his neck.

“Thank you for taking me ice skating baby,” I giggled. “Even though you hated it.” I felt him let out a deep chuckle from his chest.

“Any time baby girl. You know I’d do anything for ya, even if I suck at it.” He smirked. I snorted.

“You really almost had it bear.” I teased. He raised an eyebrow a mischievous look in his eye.

“You tryna go for another punishment?” He asked. I bit my lip.

“I don’t know if I could handle anymore.” I blushed.

“We’ll see about that,” He smiled and kissed me passionately.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list

@summersong69

@carrie80reads

@identity2212

@caramariehurst

@redheadrouge

@warriormirkwood

@gummydummy19

@deandoesthingstome

@shellyshellshell

@mary-ann84

@starfirewildheart

@foxyjwls007

#captain syverson #henry cavill #fanfic writing #henry cavill smut #captain syverson x ofc #fanfiction #henry cavil x reader #captain syverson smut #august walker #august walker fanfiction

155 notes · View notes

guess-my-next-obsession · 8 months

Text

In The Cold, Cold Night: Chapter One

pairing: cowboy/frontier!joel miller x oc (Dorothea) / unrequited tommy miller

rating: M (talks of death, bordellos, gender constructs, other wild west things, tommy is a cocky flirt)

wc: 7.2k

series masterlist | playlist

It was a hot and dry spring in Texas, the corn fields out in front of the Mackey family farmhouse dying underneath the brutal and unforgiving sun. John Mackey, the patriarch of his small, humble family, tried his best to conceal his worry over the season’s meager harvest, but his wife, Jessa, and his eldest child, Dorothea, or Dottie as her family called her, had a unique ability to see right through his hardened exterior to the vulnerable, frightened man inside.

Although she was a grown woman, her twenty-fourth birthday passing just seven months prior, Dorothea chose not to venture out from her parent’s watch like all the other girls in their small town had done years before. She liked the predictability of home—the sound of her father’s work boots hitting the hardwood after a long day in the field, the smell of her mother’s cooking, the loud chatter of her five younger brothers as they ran around the house and farm like they were wild animals. Though a part of her did crave more, it was a small enough part that she could ignore, fixing her brown eyes instead on taking care of the things she already had.

“Daddy!” James, the youngest of the clan at only six years, came hurtling into the kitchen as his father sat at the dinner table sipping on a fresh cup of black coffee, Jessa Mackey and Dorothea standing at the sink scrubbing this morning’s dishes. “Look what the lady at the store gave me and Ed.”

“Let me see what’cha got,” the gruff man said, lowering his cup and newspaper to the tabletop as he fixed his attention on his son.

James wore a wide, boyish grin as he reached into the front pocket of his dirty, denim overalls and pulled out a burlap sack, his tiny fingers pulling the drawing string loose so that he could dump out the contents on top of his father’s morning news.

“Well, what’s all this, now?” John said, catching a few of the tiny glass spheres as they began to roll off the uneven table.

“Marbles,” he said, full of wonder and excitement. “She even taught me how to play with ‘em.”

“Can you teach me?” he asked, setting the handful of marbles into the little boy’s hand.

“I forgot,” he smiled bashfully. “But Eddie—“

“I didn’t ask Eddie, now did I?” John smiled back. “Come on, figure it out. You learned once, you can remember.”

“Oh, will you leave him be,” Jessa scolded lightly, chuckling at her husband’s insistence as she walked over, drying her hands on a cloth before throwing it over her shoulder. “Where’s your brother?”

“Outside playin’ with Sarah,” James said, looking up at his mother with round eyes as she carded her fingers through his dust-covered brown hair.

“Who’s Sarah?” Dorothea asked as she dried her hands off on her apron, her brows stitching together.

“She’s new ‘round here,” her youngest brother replied. “She ain’t got any friends—“

“Doesn’t have,” John corrected, lifting his newspaper back up.

“How old is she?” Jessa asked.

“My age,” the boy said, a big toothy smile on his face. “May I go play with ‘em, mama?”

“Yeah, go on,” Jessa smiled and watched as her son ran out of the room with his bag of marbles in hand, the wicker screen door slamming against the wooden frame of the old home as he bolted through it. “I gotta talk to Maggie about givin’ him new toys every time I send ‘em over.”

“She likes it,” Dorothea interjected. “Can’t have babies of her own, it only makes sense she spoils everyone else’s.”

“Don’t matter,” Jessa took a seat at the table to rest her aching feet. “We don’t need another tab.”

John’s eyes lifted to meet his wife as if he were daring her to continue.

“If that girl’s new, maybe I should bake a pie and take it over to her mama and daddy,” Dorothea suggested, sensing the building tension. “We got some blueberries that’ll turn any day now.”

“Sure, honey, go on,” John said, looking back to his paper.

“Don’t use more than y’have to, Dot,” Jessa ordered. “I need flour to make biscuits for supper.”

“I’ll only use what I need, ma,” Dorothea promised with a saintly smile, flashing her emerald green eyes at her mother before heading into the pantry to start out on her baking.

“Daddy!” Sarah’s squeal could be heard from a mile away, causing her father, Joel, to turn his head in the direction of the dirt road, spotting his daughter riding on the handlebars of of a brand new, candy red-painted bicycle, his younger brother pedaling towards the opened gate of their farm. “Look what Uncle Tommy got!”

Joel shook his head at the needless expense as he watched them ride up to where he stood near the porch, his white cotton shirt soaked down his spine from spending the better half of the afternoon fixing the old wooden steps.

“You ain’t got nothin’ better to spend your money on?” Joel asked as they came to a skid in front of him, Sarah hopping off the handlebars and skipping up to her father’s side to hug his hip, his hand smoothing her wild curls out of her face. “Where you been all day, missy? Out causin’ trouble?”

“I made friends with some boys down the road,” she replied, looking up at her father as he quirked an eyebrow.

“Boys, huh?” he asked, his tone playful. “You ain’t old enough to be hangin’ around any boys.”

“But daddy, they’re sweet,” she insisted, rounding her hazel eyes at him and poking out her bottom lip for good measure. Joel smiled and nodded, rubbing his hand across her shoulders.

“I’m just kiddin’, baby girl,” he assured. “What did y’all get up to?”

“We played cowboys on their farm,” she beamed. “I got to be the sheriff.”

“You know me and your daddy used to be cowboys?” Tommy said, leaning against the post of the porch.

“Well, I would’a caught you,” she said, tilting her chin up in confidence.

“Alright, sheriff, why don’t you go inside and wash off all this dirt before supper?” Joel ordered, patting her back as she begrudgingly obeyed her. “Cheer up, I’m makin’ your favorite.”

“Chicken soup?” she squealed again.

“You got it,” he nodded before waving at her to head into the house like he’d asked.

“If you’re gonna yell, yell,” Tommy sighed, taking a seat on the second step.

“I ain’t gonna yell,” Joel sat down with him. “But you can’t be goin’ around town showin’ off and spendin’ like that. We don’t need people pryin’ into our business and gettin’ the wrong idea.”

“It ain’t a crime to be a bounty hunter,” Tommy argued.

“Not when you’re workin’ for the law, but you and I both know we were about as far from the law as we could get,” Joel said. “Just don’t want people treatin’ Sarah bad because of what we did to make ends meet. That’s why we had to leave the last place, remember?”

“Yeah, I know,” Tommy nodded. “I just saw it and thought it would make droppin’ Sarah off at the schoolhouse easier on me, s’all.”

“Well, I ain’t gonna make you take it back,” Joel said, offering a soft smile, bumping his brother’s shoulder with his own. “Just…talk to me before you go out and buy somethin’ that pretty next time, alright? I might want one for myself.”

“Well, speaking’ of pretty,” Tommy nudged his chin forward in the direction of the gate, Joel’s eyes following his eyeline until he saw what he was so fixed on. Tan, freckled skin, a head of chocolate brown waves thrown up messily, a pair of bright green eyes and an equally bright smile heading up the dirt path to the porch.

“She here for you?” Joel whispered to his brother.

“I certainly hope so,” Tommy replied with a smile.

“Hi, y’all, sorry to interrupt,” the unfamiliar face greeted them as she reached the bottom of the steps, both men staring at her with a mixture of confusion and awe. “I’m Dorothea. My little brothers were playin’ with your sister earlier, and I thought I’d bring a pie over to welcome y’all to the town.”

“Sister?” Tommy asked, fixing a charming smile onto his face. “No sister here, but we’ll be glad to take that pie off your hands.”

“Oh,” she furrowed her brows in confusion. “I’m sorry, I guess I must’a—“

“You talkin’ about Sarah?” Joel spoke up, drawing her eyes to meet his.

“Yeah, I think that’s what her name was.”

“That’s my daughter,” he smiled.

“Oh!” Her eyes widened in shock. “I’m sorry, I thought—you look young, so I just thought—“

“No need to apologize,” he assured, standing up and unintentionally towering over her as he walked down the steps. “I had her young; I’m used to it by now.”

Dorothea smiled softly and nodded, her eyes lowering to the pie in her hands rather than at his dark, round eyes.

“Well, this is for y’all, then,” she said, holding the pie out for him to take.

“Thank you,” he accepted it and lifted the cloth covering the top, bringing the pie close to his nose. “Smells great.”

“It’s a family recipe,” she said. “I can give it to your wife if she’s around?”

“Oh—no,” Joel tensed, his smile faltering. “She, uh, she passed givin’ birth to Sarah.”

“Oh,” Dorothea’s eyes turned soft and sympathetic. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he assured, flickering his eyes over to his brother who remained watching their new friend with eager eyes. “We’re about to have supper, you could join us? Let us repay you for the pie?”

“Oh, I wish I could, but my mama’s makin’ biscuits and gravy tonight and she’d throw a fit if I stayed out past dark,” Dorothea said, offering him an apologetic smile.

“Well, you’re always welcome,” Joel shrugged. “Your brothers, too. I’m sure Sarah would love it if her new friends stopped by.”

“I’ll let ‘em know,” she smiled. “Well, I should be goin’.”

“You need a ride?” Tommy asked, standing up.

“Oh, no,” she giggled. “I like the walk, gives me a little time away from all the noise.”

“Alright,” Tommy smiled. “You said your name was Dorothy?”

“Dorothea,” Joel corrected.

“That’s right,” she chuckled. “And y’all are?”

“I’m Tommy, he’s Joel,” Tommy said.

“Well, Tommy, Joel,” she smiled as she turned her eyes from Tommy to meet Joel’s again. “It was nice meetin’ y’all. Enjoy that pie.”

“I’m sure we will,” Joel smiled. “Get home safe, now.”

“Everybody knows not to mess with me,” she smirked as she began backing her way towards the gate.

“That so?” he smirked.

“Yep,” she giggled. “Bye now!”

“Bye,” Tommy called, waving at her as she turned around and started down the road in the direction she came. “What a looker.”

“She wasn’t lookin’ at you,” Joel teased.

“What, you think she was lookin’ at you?”

“No,” he replied defensively as he started up the steps. to head into the house, Tommy trailing closely behind.

“You got a crush, old man?”

“Twenty-eight ain’t old,” Joel argued, setting the pie down on the dinner table.

“Older than me,” Tommy quipped. “Older than her.”

“Alright, well since you’re so young and spry, why don’t you go out back and fetch us some milk for supper, charmer?” Joel teased, grabbing the cloth from the pie and swatting it at his younger brother.

It was Sunday afternoon, Joel and Tommy finished with the week’s chores and labor, Sarah skipping down the road with them as they made their way to town to look around at the shops and stands.

Joel, as always, kept his pistol tucked into the holster on his belt, his eyes scanning his surroundings for any potential trouble while desperately hoping none found him.

Joel had lived a lot of life in his twenty-eight years. He started out as a ranch hand to his father, Tommy just old enough to form a sentence while his older brother was expected to go out and tend to the horse, sheep, and cows at five in the morning. School wasn’t a priority to his parents, but learning to take care of the ranch was, to them, as essential to living as breathing.

Joel was fifteen when his father passed from typhoid fever, his mother following shortly after getting caught in the middle of a shoot out in town, leaving him to not only take care of the ranch, but his eleven year old brother as well.

Two years later, Joel and Tommy got swept up in the bounty hunting lifestyle after seeing how much the sheriff was offering for an outlaw on a wanted poster. They bid their ranch goodbye, packed up what little they had, and rode off into the desert to start anew, not knowing a single thing about what was to come.

Though their endeavors started out lawful, a then-seventeen year old Tommy quickly grew bored of their meager earnings and convinced Joel to abandon the lawful bounty hunting in favor of working with outlaws, the two of them hunting out sheriffs and their own people instead.

This was how Joel met Sarah’s mother at the young age of twenty-one. She was ten years older than him, working in a bordello Tommy insisted on staying at for the night during one of their hunts. Joel was hesitant at first, but quickly found his footing once he spotted her across the room. She had dark skin, rich, brown eyes, and a figure like he’d never seen before. He was already hooked then, but once their visits grew more frequent, he realized it was more than just a drunken lust he felt for the woman. He loved her. And when she fell pregnant with his child, Joel took her down to the town church and married her before riding off again to go on his next hunt. He only saw her two more times before Sarah came, and then she was gone.

Joel tried to go back to his old life, but found it difficult to do what he needed to do with a baby in tow. The boys settled down in Utah for a while, but Tommy’s antics at the local saloon had them packing up and heading west to California. Tommy had some luck there panning for gold, but just as quickly as the last time, he got into a brawl and the three of them were forced back on the road. It went like this for a while, up until just a few months ago when they were talked out of moving out of their old family ranch by a wealthy man looking to buy it for a handsome sum, the money too appealing for Joel to decline.

That’s how they ended up here in the Middle of Nowhere, Texas.

Joel liked it here. It was quiet, there wasn’t any trouble, and everyone seemed to have an understanding that this place was for families, somewhere safe to keep your children in the midst of all this shooting and debauchery. Joel wanted to stay here, but there was a nagging voice every time he looked over at his reckless younger brother that told him it was only a matter of time before they’d have to pack it all up again and run off. He hoped this time, Tommy would learn his lesson.

“Daddy, can I go look at the flowers?” Sarah chimed as they reached the booming Main Street, her little finger pointing at a flower cart.

“Yeah, but don’t go runnin’ off too far,” he said, keeping a watchful eye on her as she skipped towards the daisies.

“I’m gonna go see about that wheelbarrow,” Tommy said, nudging his head in the direction of an old man’s roadside stand of junk.

“Anything that keeps you outta the saloon,” Joel said, his eyes still locked on his daughter as she chatted the ear off of the older woman selling flowers.

“Robert, you better stay out of there!”

Joel’s attention was turned in the direction of a faintly familiar voice calling down the street. There he spotted Dorothea, surrounded by five boys ranging from Sarah’s age to somewhere around her own. The eldest looking boy, Robert he assumed, waved her off as he continued ahead of them into the saloon and bordello, leaving her fuming as she tried to corral the three youngest to follow her while the second oldest followed in his brother’s footsteps.

“Dottie, look! It’s Sarah!” the youngest squealed, his finger pointing down the road at Sarah who was getting a flower pinned in her curls. “Can I go say hi?”

“Yeah, just stay where I can see ya,” she said, watching as all three boys ran off in Sarah’s direction.

Joel cleared his throat as he felt obligated to go over and say hello, but Dorothea spotted him first and gave him a polite nod from down the road before turning to head into the general store. A strange pang of disappointment hit him in the chest at her lack of interaction, but he quickly reminded himself that he didn’t want the responsibility of a friend. He had enough on his plate with his ranch, his daughter, and his brother.

“Daddy,” Sarah came strolling back over hand in hand with Dorothea’s youngest brother, both of them smiling cheekily. “This is my boyfriend, James.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” Joel gave the boy a playful once over and shook his head in feigned disapproval. “How about a boy friend?”

“Daddy,” she pouted and fixed a stern look on her face that looked every bit her mother.

“Alright, James, but I expect you to respect my daughter,” he said, playfully wagging his finger in the little boy’s face and poking his nose, earning a giggle.

“Yes, sir,” James smiled. “I think Sarah’s the love of my life.”

“Love of your life?” Joel asked, resting a hand on his hip. “You ain’t lived much life, son.”

“Six years of it,” he countered.

“Six years a long time to you?” Joel continued with a smile.

“Yeah. It’s my entire life,” the boy quipped, pulling a laugh out of Joel.

“I guess you’re right,” Joel chuckled. “Long as you treat her right, we ain’t gonna have a problem.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Those your brothers?” Joel nudged his chin in the direction of the two slightly older boys, one of them chasing the other with a flower he’d plucked from the lady’s cart.

“Yes, sir,” James nodded. “Ed and Bo.”

“And the other two?”

“Robert and Paul,” James said. “But they’re mean.”

“Yeah? They mean to you?” James nodded. Joel smiled and squatted down to be eye level with him. “Let me ask ya somethin’. One day, you’re gonna be big enough to be mean right back to ‘em,” James nodded. “That somethin’ you’re looking forward to?”

“No,” James shook his head.

“No? Why not?”

“I don’t like bein’ mean,” James said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Good answer,” Joel smiled. “I don’t want my daughter with somebody mean.”

“Boys! Come help me with these groceries!” Dorothea called from the shop, her eyes flickering to Joel as he stood up and turned to look at her. “They ain’t botherin’ y’all, are they?”

“No, ma’am,” he said, tipping the brim of his cowboy hat at her.

“Lord almighty, she’s a fine lookin’ woman,” Tommy appeared next to Joel, earning a stern glare from his older brother.

“She’s off limits,” James said, his own face scrunching up. “My daddy said so.”

“Well, your daddy hasn’t met me yet,” Tommy smiled. “She got a boyfriend?”

“No,” James replied defensively. “And she don’t want one neither.”

“What about a friend?” Tommy persisted.

“I’m her friend,” he said, crossing his little arms over his chest.

“Did you get the wheelbarrow?” Joel asked, desperate to stop his brother’s back and forth.

“Yep,” Tommy nodded.

“Good, now go on and use it. We need fire wood,” Joel said, tipping his chin towards the hardware store. Tommy sighed and did as his brother commanded while Joel urged both Sarah and James off towards the general store to pick up their weekly groceries.

“Daddy, can we get some blueberries to make another pie?” Sarah asked, pointing ahead at a pint of blueberries sitting on the table in the middle of the store along with the rest of this week’s harvest.

“I didn’t make the pie, baby,” he said. “Don’t know what else we’ll need.”

“Y’all talkin’ about my pie?” Dorothea asked, offering a smile to Sarah as she walked over holding a basket of fruit in her hand while her younger brothers carried the rest of the haul.

“You made it?” Sarah asked with delight.

“Yes, ma’am, I did,” Dorothea nodded. “You want the recipe?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sarah smiled. “I’ll make my daddy teach me.”

“Is your daddy good at bakin’?” Dorothea chuckled, glancing over at Joel who watched her carefully.

“No,” Sarah frowned.

“No, he doesn’t look the part,” she smirked at him, watching as a subtle blush grew on his cheeks. “Well, maybe I could come and teach you since your daddy ain’t so good.”

“Daddy, can she?” Sarah asked, tugging on her fathers arm.

Joel looked down at his wide eyed daughter and felt affection bloom in his chest for her, immediately caving in to her request. “Sure, baby girl.”

“Alright, you want me to show you what you need?” Dorothea spoke to Joel, bringing his eyes back to hers.

“Yes, ma’am,” Joel nodded, gesturing at her to lead the way.

“Gonna need flour, y’all got that at home?” Joel nodded. “Butter?” Another nod. “How ‘bout milk?”

“We got our own cows,” he said.

“Looks like y’all ain’t gonna need much, then,” she smiled. “All’s left is some blueberries, a lemon, some sugar, and…I think that’s it.”

“You think?” Joel teased, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“I know,” she corrected herself with a smirk. “I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon, if that’s alright by y’all.”

“Sounds alright with me,” Joel smiled. “I’ll make sure Tommy ain’t around to bother ya.”

“Oh, you ain’t gotta worry about him. I think he’s kinda sweet…in his own special way,” she shrugged. Joel lifted his eyebrows in surprise at the jealousy that sparked inside him at the thought of Tommy and her together.

As if on cue, Tommy walked in, his eyes scanning the room until he spotted the three of them.

“Well if it ain’t Miss Dorothy,” he grinned.

“Dorothea,” James corrected from the counter as he scooped up the final sack of groceries.

“My apologies,” Tommy smirked. “Guess I’ll have to spend more time around ya. Get the name to stick.”

“Alright,” Joel rolled his eyes and patted Sarah on the shoulder, guiding her towards the counter to pay for their hail. “We’ll see ya tomorrow, then, Dorothea. Bring that James with ya if ya want. Word is him and Sarah are in love. I’d hate to come between that.”

Dorothea giggled and nodded. “That’d be a crime, now, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re comin’ by tomorrow?” Tommy asked, leaning against the counter.

“Yes, sir,” Dorothea nodded. “Showin’ your niece how to make my famous blueberry pie.”

“Got room for one more student?” he asked. “I’ve been meanin’ to learn how t’ bake.”

“Oh, have you now?” she giggled. “I suppose you can join us, long as you pay attention.”

“I’m gonna be payin’ attention, alright,” he smiled. “Have a good day, now, Dorothy.”

“Dorothe—“ She stopped herself from correcting him again once she realized he was now doing it on purpose, her head shaking as she smiled at him. “How ‘bout you just call me “Miss” from now on? Can’t get that wrong, can ya?”

“Ain’t no fun in that,” he smiled. “I’ll get it one ‘a these days.”

“I’m sure you will,” she rolled her eyes before looking to Joel. “See ya, Joel.”

Joel tipped his hat at her and watched her walk off back down the long road headed towards her ranch, her horde of brothers following closely behind.

“You gotta mess with her?” Joel asked Tommy as he pulled out a few notes and handed it to the clerk.

“Least she’s a nice woman,” Tommy reasoned. “Could be goin’ after one of my women at the bordello like you—“

“Watch it,” Joel warned seriously, no trace of amusement in his eyes as they flickered to an oblivious Sarah. “That mouth’s gonna get you in trouble, Tommy. One ‘a these days someone’s gonna come along and do somethin’ about it.”

“They already tried,” Tommy chuckled. “I’ll take my chances.”

Joel only shook his head as he led the three of them out of the store, Tommy’s hands busied by the wheelbarrow hauling lumber while Joel carried their bag of groceries and Sarah worked on the lollipop the cashier handed over to her.

“Dot, come down and help your mama with hangin’ clothes!” Dorothea’s mother, Jessa, called up the staircase of their quaint farmhouse, interrupting her journaling.

“Yes, mama!” she called back, closing her books before making her way downstairs to tug her boots on before entering the mid-morning heat. She joined her mother out in front of the lawn as she sat scrubbing the dirty laundry on her washing board, a few sheets already hung up on the line.

“Thank you, baby,” she said, wiping her brow. “It’s hot out today.”

“It’s been hot out every day,” Dorothea commented. “How’re the crops lookin’?”

“Your daddy don’t bother tellin’ me anymore,” she said. “Half of me wonders if we wouldn’t be better off packin’ up and movin’ west. I hear there’s still plenty gold.”

“Who ya gonna get to mine for it? Daddy’s back can’t take it, and your two eldest don’t seem to care ‘bout nothin’ except goin’ to the saloon.”

“Don’t you wish we had that luxury?” Jessa said with a smirk. “I know I’d like to be able to run off whenever I want and drink the night away.”

“I don’t care much for the drinkin’, but I would like to know what it feels like to do whatever I want whenever I wanna do it,” Dorothea replied. “Instead we gotta ask permission anytime we wanna leave the house. Makes ya sad if you think about it too much.”

“I’ll tell you somethin’,” Jessa locked eyes with her daughter. “You ever feel like sneakin’ off for a night—maybe go see a pretty boy—you can count on me t’keep your secret. Long as ya tell me, I’ll watch out for ya.”

“You gonna lie to daddy for me?” Dorothea giggled.

“Lord knows I’ve done worse things.”

Dorothea quirked an eyebrow at her mother, smirking in interest.

Jessa ignored her daughter’s curiosity. “So this mean there’s a boy?”

“No,” Dorothea shook her head. “Not yet, at least.”

“Come on, now,” Jessa smiled.

“James’ new friend, Sarah, has an uncle,” she shrugged. “He seems interested.”

“But you ain’t?”

“I don’t know, mama,” she blushed. “He’s fine and all, but…he ain’t really what I’m lookin’ for.”

“Why’s that?”

“He talks too much,” Dorothea replied, earning a hearty laugh from her mother.

“You’re just like me, ain’t ya?”

“Sarah’s dad, however—“

“Dad? How old is he?” Jessa furrowed his brows.

“He doesn’t look much older than me,” she replied. “But he’s quieter. Doesn’t talk unless he has to. And he was sweet with James,” she said. “Thought it was cute.”

“But he ain’t interested in you like the brother is?” Jessa asked.

“I don’t think so,” she said, grabbing the last piece of wet clothing from her mother’s hands and wringing it out before hanging it on the line. “Either way, I don’t foresee any sneakin’ out in my future.”

“A little sneakin’ out would do you some good,” Jessa argued. “You’re too well behaved for your own good.”

“Someone’s gotta be,” she smiled and nudged her head in the direction of the house. “Alright, I gotta go change.”

“Where you off to?”

“Helpin’ Sarah make a pie,” she said.

“Mmhm,” Jessa smirked. “Well tell the uncle and the daddy I said hello.”

“Sure, mama,” she smiled back knowingly before skipping off to the house.

“There she is,” Tommy chimed as Dorothea walked up the steps of the porch, a sweet tea in his hand as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Where’s my student?” Dorothea smirked, tilting her head at him.

“Right here,” he said, gesturing at himself. “Ready to learn.”

“I meant my promisin’ student,” she countered, bringing a grin to his face.

“She’s out back with her daddy,” he said, tipping his head back towards the house. “But we could get started without her.”

“I’m sure you’d like that,” she chuckled. “I’m gonna go find her.”

“I’ll be right here,” he drawled, watching her as she walked down the steps and rounded the corner of the house.

Out back, she was met with the sight of Sarah filling the pigs trough full of scraps while her father brushed the mane of a chestnut horse, his white shirt pulling taut across the breadth of his shoulders.

“Hey, y’all,” she announced herself, drawing both pairs of eyes to hers.

“Dorothea!” Sarah chimed, abandoning her work at the pig pen to come skipping over. “Time for pie?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she smiled, her eyes trailing from the little girl in front of her to her much larger father as he walked over, his blue jeans clinging to his legs as if they were painted on.

“Miss Dorothea,” he tipped his hat at her. “You come to take this trouble maker off my hands?”

“You causin’ trouble?” Dorothea asked, looking back to the six year old.

“Daddy’s lyin,” she grinned.

“So I got a troublemaker and a liar on my hands,” Dorothea smiled, looking back to Joel. “Ya gonna stay out here, or ya gonna join us inside?”

“Ain’t gonna be much help, I’m afraid,” he smiled.

“You can be our taste-tester,” she shrugged. “And maybe you can keep that brother of yours on a leash. He seems particularly determined today.”

“I apologize for his forwardness,” Joel spoke sincerely. “He thinks he’s smooth ‘cause every woman he’s ever talked to has been eager. He don’t realize it’s ‘cause he paid ‘em to be.”

Dorothea laughed, her brows lifting in shock at the racy nature of his joke.

“I’m sorry,” he said, realizing himself. “Forget I’m talkin’ to a lady.”

“Am I that homely?” she teased. “Maybe I’ll wear my best dress next time. Get Tommy to remember my name and you to remember you’re talkin’ to a woman.”

“Yeah, daddy,” Sarah scolded. “Where’s your manners?”

“I must’a lost ‘em,” he joked.

“Well, me and Dottie’ll help you find ‘em,” she sassed, grabbing Dorothea’s hand and dragging her along back to the house, Joel smiling to himself as he followed them.

“So, cows, a horse, pigs…looks like you’ve got yourself a ranch,” she said, looking behind her as Sarah continued tugging her along.

“Yep,” he agreed.

“You don’t talk much, do ya?”

“Try not to,” he said.

“Any reason?”

“Find people like me a little better when I keep my mouth shut,” he replied, earning another laugh.

“Someone must’a trained you right,” she joked. “Tommy on the other hand—“

“Y’all talkin’ ‘bout me?” Tommy spoke from the porch as the three of them ascended the steps. “Good things, I hope.”

“Hope is a dangerous thing,” Dorothea quipped, earning a chuckle from Joel, the sound drawing her eyes away from Tommy and over to him.

“I don’t get it,” Tommy said, smiling even though his brows were drawn together.

“Nevermind, let’s just get workin’,” Dorothea said, gesturing for him to lead the way.

“He ain’t too clever,” Joel leaned over Dorothea’s shoulder as they filtered inside, whispering to her, and she would’ve laughed if she hadn’t been so caught off guard by his proximity.

“You know anythin’ ‘bout makin’ a carrot cake? My mama used to make the best, and I haven’t found anythin’ quite as good since,” Tommy called from the kitchen as Dorothea remained frozen in the entryway, her eyes watching Joel as he squeezed past her to join his brother and daughter inside the small kitchen. “You hear me?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Dorothea cleared her head and composed herself as she walked in to join them. “Carrot cake, ya said? I don’t think I’ve ever made one.”

“Well, you had to have a flaw,” Tommy drawled.

“I’ve got a few,” she countered.

“Like what?”

“I’m very particular,” she replied.

“‘Bout what?”

“I like the quiet,” she said, smirking at him. “And I get real bossy.”

“I can shut up,” he said. “And I can follow orders.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Joel groaned, sitting down at their round dinner table.

“Alright, then, if you’re so good at shuttin’ up and followin’ orders, how ‘bout you go sit down and stay quiet while me and Sarah get to work.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tommy grinned, walking over to the table by the window to sit with his brother while Dorothea and Sarah got to work. “She likes me.”

“She hates you,” Joel corrected.

“What d’you know about women, huh? When’s the last time you talked to somethin’ as pretty as that?”

“Just a few minutes ago in the yard,” he said, lifting an eyebrow to signal his victory.

“You think she likes talkin’ to you anymore than me?” Tommy asked with a smug smile. “I can’t imagine how crazy someone’d have to be to find you interestin’. All you do is take care ‘a the ranch and complain.”

“I didn’t say she liked talkin’ t’me,” Joel shrugged. “Just that we talked.”

“Yeah, well, leave the talkin’ to me,” Tommy said. “I’ll have me a wife come winter, you’ll see.”

“She ain’t gonna marry you,” Joel chuckled.

“Why not?”

“You ain’t committed to nothin’ but causin’ trouble,” he said. “No amount ‘a pretty’s gonna change ya that quick.”

“Well,” Dorothea smiled across the table at Joel as he hauled a bite of her and Sarah’s creation into his mouth, Tommy long gone and out at the saloon while Sarah laid in the living room fast asleep from two thick slices of pie. “Any good?”

“Ya know it’s good,” he said, flickering his eyes at her before dropping them back to his plate.

“Is it always like pullin’ teeth with you?” Joel furrowed his brows as he looked at her again. “Givin’ a sincere compliment?”

“It was sincere,” he said.

“Guess I’m expectin’ somethin’ more like Tommy’s reaction.”

“What, fallin’ to my knees?” he joked, cracking a half smirk. “My knees are busted. I’ll have to praise you from my seat.”

“You and him are so different,” she commented, watching him as he ate. “He’s…wild. Too wild. Reminds me of my two brothers.”

“The ones who went into that…establishment?” he asked, wiping his mouth on a scrap of cloth he’d fashioned into a napkin.

“Yeah, them two,” she nodded. “You ever…been to one ‘em?”

Joel froze a bit, his hand pausing as he lifted a glass of milk to his mouth for a sip. “You askin’ me—“

“I just wanna know what they’re like,” she shrugged. “What they do.”

“You’re better off not knowin’.”

“Well, the men always seem to leave happy,” she said.

“They sure do,” he blushed and brought his cup the rest of the way to his lips, taking a swig before setting it down. “But I ain’t completely sure if that’s somethin’ you need’a know about.”

“Why is it that you boys get’a have all this fun and us girls are supposed to stay home and bake pies, sit and wonder what y’all are doin? What if I wanted to go into a bordello?”

“I ain’t sure it’s they’d know what t’do with ya,” he chuckled.

“Is it—are they…makin’ love?” she whispered the last line, causing Joel to choke on his bite, his fist pounding against his chest to clear it.

“I—“ He shook his head, lost for what to say. “I don’t know that I’d call it that.”

“But they are…sleepin’ together?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “But they ain’t doin’ no sleepin’.”

“And that’s where Tommy ran off to?”

Joel hesitated for a moment but nodded.

“Well, then I know for certain I don’t want him,” she said, looking at her plate.

“You don’t like…those kinda men?” he asked, recalling his own past.

“I don’t like men who get around,” she clarified. “If a man wants me, I better be the only one. But so far, I haven’t met a man willin’ to hang up his hat.”

“They’ll grow outta it,” he said.

“Did you?” she asked, knocking his boot under the table with hers.

“I had my day,” he said, locking eyes with her. “Sarah’s mom—she, uh—I met her in one of those…places.”

“But you married her.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Never liked two-timin’.”

“Well, there’s still hope to be had, then,” she smiled. “Just hope I’m still young and pretty by the time these boys decide t’grow up.”

“How old are you?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.

“I’ll be twenty-five on Christmas,” she said.

“Christmas, huh?”

“Yeah, makes it easy on my mama and daddy,” she joked. “What about you?”

“Twenty-eight,” he replied. “Twenty-nine in September.”

“Birthday just passed, then,” she said. “I’ll have t’bake you a belated birthday cake.”

“You tryin’ to win me over with food?” he flirted, just to test the waters.

“I didn’t know I was tryin’ to win you over,” she smiled.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

“Your brother would,” she countered.

“Yeah,” he shrugged.

Dorothea sat there watching him with a smile, searching his eyes for any sign of a cruel joke being played on her but found none. Even still, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do in this sort of situation. She’d been flirted with for half her life, but was never interested enough to flirt back. Until now.

“I guess I should be goin’ off,” she said, swallowing her feelings for the man in front of her out of sheer fear of falling flat on her face.

“You gonna get home alright?” he asked, standing up when she stood to carry her plate to the sink. “Could take the horse.”

“No, I’m alright,” she assured with a smile, turning around to find Joel right in front of her, his chin tipped downwards as she looked up into his molasses brown eyes. Though she remained breathless, she couldn’t help but let out an airy chuckle as she lifted her hand to press it against the firm wall of his chest. She didn’t push him away, she simply rested it over his heartbeat to feel for a similar rhythm to her own. “You’re awfully close.”

“Would’ya like me to step back?” he asked, his eyes darting across her features, admiring the curve of her button nose.

“No,” she replied, what was supposed to be playful turning into a whisper as she watched tongue peek out and swipe over his bottom lip. She couldn’t help herself but to want to trace the line, too, her hand raising to rest over his bearded jaw while her thumb ghosted across the bow of his lip. “Never kissed anybody before, y’ know that?”

“S’easier than you’d think,” he whispered back, leaning down to slowly fill the gap between their lips, Dorothea’s eyes fluttering shut as she splayed her hand over his cheek while the other lifted to bury her fingers in his curls.

Joel hummed into the kiss as his lips landed against the pillowy softness of her pout, his chest pressing to hers as he pressed her into the counter behind her, his hands gripping the edge of the rustic wood.

Dorothea’s brows laced together as she tried to keep her head above water in this sea of him. He tasted like the pie she spent all afternoon baking and a little bit of whiskey, the warmth of both heating her skin up as she melted into him.

“Daddy,” Sarah called from the other room, her tiny voice thick with sleep. Joel pulled back first, leaving Dorothea to chase his lips with her eyes still shut. He smiled at the sight and leaned forward to kiss her forehead, pulling her out of her haze.

“I gotta go take her t’bed,” he whispered, his voice raspy in her ear as his lips came to rest there. “Wait for me.”

Dorothea couldn’t speak, her olive colored cheeks turning a shade of red as she watched him walk back and out of the room, his voice soft as he spoke to his daughter, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her down the hall

She stood there resting against the counter, her hand resting on her heated cheeks, smiling at the wood beneath her feet.

Was this what it felt like to want somebody? Did it always feel this good? A blood rush to the head?

Joel found his way back into the living room a few minutes later, finding her in that same spot, still spinning over his touch.

“I…hope that was alright,” he said, seemingly catching her by surprise, her eyes jumping away from the floor to meet his. “I hope I didn’t…assume—“

“I think ya did, just a little bit, but that’s alright,” she smiled, walking over to meet him in the middle of the room, her hands sliding over his chest to loop around his neck. “You assumed right.”

“Tommy ain’t gonna like this,” Joel warned, resting his hands on the small of her back.

“He doesn’t got any claim over me,” she replied, her eyes flickering back to his mouth. “Y’know, your lips are softer than they look.”

“That supposed t’be a compliment?” he smiled and she nodded. “Well, thank ya, ma’am.”

“I like when you call me that,” she grinned. “When you use those southern manners.”

“Yeah?” he grinned back, leaning down to brush his lips over hers. “You like when I’m quiet and polite?”

She laughed softly and nodded, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Like that you know when to talk and when to shut up.”

“Then I’ll shut up now,” he said, smiling into the kiss as he squeezed her closer, his tongue swiping across her bottom lip before grazing the tip of her tongue. Dorothea moaned into the kiss, the sound causing Joel to short circuit and pull away, his forehead resting against hers. “You gotta go home.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, still breathless.

“Come see me tomorrow, if you got the time,” he said, pulling back to comb his hand through her brown waves as they hung loosely down her shoulder and back.

“I’ll see if I can sneak off,” she grinned, stepping back from his embrace to walk out the front door to his porch.

“I’ll see ya,” she said, biting her lip as she turned on her heel to walk down the steps of his porch.

“Bye, Dorothea,” he smiled to himself, tucking his hands in his pockets and leaning against the doorframe as he watched her frame get tinier and tinier as she walked down the long, dirt road until she disappeared out of view, taking the sunshine with her.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal smut #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #joel miller series #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x oc #joel miller x original character #ITCCN

194 notes · View notes

tangledinink · 9 months

Text

Chapter Twenty-Four of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is now up! The Hamato Clan advances forward in their new mission, and their second-ever outting goes... differently than the first, at least? Read it on ao3 or below the cut!

[ prev ]

Don’t worry, Dad, he had said. I’ve got this.

I can handle it, he had said. I know how to lead a team! He had said. I’ll look out for them, he had said.

He had said, nooo, Dad, really. You hang back slightly; that way if anything happens, you can swoop in and help us. It makes more sense to keep you in the back pocket. Let us try taking the lead, we need the practice…

And damn, was Mind Raph pissed at him now. What the hell was Past Raph thinking?! Why did he think this was a good idea?! Because now here they were, him and his sister and three little brothers, sneaking into a goddamn Macy’s, of all places, and he had no idea why he thought coming in here without their dad was a good idea.

I mean, they hadn’t. Dad was here-- he wasn’t even far away! He could be here in about ninety seconds if he wanted to, Raph was pretty sure. He was posted up just inside the entrance of the department store, all hooked up so he could hear them through the radios Donnie had programmed and could receive images and video; perfectly capable of directing them all and ready to leap in at any moment should anything go wrong.

But still! You try explaining that to Mind Raph. ‘Cause Mind Raph was losin’ his damn marbles right now all up in his head, and it was starting to get on his nerves.

It’s fine. We’ve got this! Nothin’ has even happened yet-- we just gotta find the armor piece. That’s all. In and out, easy peasy. This is low stakes! There are no employees, this place has been shut down for renovations for months now, it ain’t on anyone’s radar, and you’ve been trainin’ for this…

Which was true. Only a week and a half had passed since their original trip to the Foot Shack, but they had meant it when they said that they were Hamatos, too, and that they wanted to help-- and they had put in the hours. They had to push Dad a little bit, to convince him they were actually for-real serious and they weren’t gonna back out or change their minds, but once they got that through his head, he had started to teach them for real.

They got up before the sun now, all rising bright and early to meet their father and receive his lessons. Mikey had been meditating for some time now with their Dad, but now they all did, each and every day, in the mornings and before bed, attempting to draw out their ninpo once more. They had long studied martial arts under their father’s tutelage, but now they did drills each and every day, sparring with him and each other, sharpening what they already knew and rapidly adding new tools and maneuvers to their arsenal. What their father knew (and was willing to share,) about the Hamato Clan and their ways, he taught to them. Their ‘ninja’ lessons, mostly from childhood, mostly taught simply as a game and for the fun of it, were now genuine. They weren’t just learning how to sneak anymore-- they were learning to evade an enemy, to move silently to avoid detection and spare themselves from combat. They weren’t learning to hide, they were learning to blend in with their surroundings, to become invisible, to cover themselves in an enemy’s blind spot and wait for the perfect moment to strike.

All of a sudden, nothing that they were being taught was for the sake of fun or games or mischief. They were survival skills. They were imparted upon them not only as a legacy, a piece of a long, sacred tradition for them to carry onwards, but as a prayer for safety; a means to keep themselves alive in the face of danger. A path back home from every mission.

And Raph had known all this for a while now, had been aware of it, at least. He knew the severity of the situation, and he was willing to make sacrifices for it. Not just for the ‘world,’ or whatever, or their clan, but for their family. And okay fine, he did, admittedly, miss the precious little free time they had once had, and he did quietly mourn the hobbies that they had to put aside for the time being in order to dedicate themselves to this instead... But it was temporary, and it was worth it.

He knew all that. But it hadn’t felt real until earlier this evening.

“Boys!” their father had called, not more than an hour or two ago, his voice echoing from the top of the stairs to the Lair where they had all been gathered, trying to get in as much last-minute practice as they could. “April! Come up here for a moment.”

And Raph had, admittedly, sulked a bit, because they had been sparring and he was right in the middle of kicking Leo’s ass, but they did it anyway. In fact, he had snipped at his little brothers for grumbling about it, herding them and April all up the stairs and to their father’s room.

And there were five bundles of clothing lined up on his bed; all carefully folded and tucked into neat, black squares, interrupted only by flashes of crimson red fabric.

“... What’s this, Dad?” Raph had questioned, glancing over at their father, brows furrowed, and their dad had sort of cleared his throat, seeming almost embarrassed.

“Ah. Well. I know it is a bit silly, but… This is-- these are the Hamato Clan’s colors,” he explained, slowly, carefully unfolding one of the bundles, spreading the Gi out on the bed for them to appreciate properly. “And this is the Hamato Clan’s symbol. Traditionally, this is what a ninja would wear on a mission of the clan,” he paused slightly, laughing weakly. “I never went on any official missions, so I never got one, but I thought… Well, firstly, if my children are going to be sneaking around the city like ninjas with me, they might as well look the part,” he reasoned, smiling the tiniest bit. “And… also. If anyone ever deserved to bear the mark of the Hamato Clan, then it is certainly you five.”

There was a beat of silence, and he had sort of rubbed the back of his neck.

“You don’t have to wear them if you don’t want to--”

Mikey had cut that thought off quickly, flinging himself at their Dad in a tearful hug, nearly knocking him over.

“I LOVE THEM!” He had wailed. “They’re so cool! We get ninja outfits!”

“I like the fabric. Is this silk?...” Donnie had observed, picking one up to run his fingers along.

“Wow, Yosh, I didn’t know you could sew!” April remarked, and Dad laughed.

“Who do you think made all those Halloween costumes?”

“The Hamato Clan’s colors are black and red?” Leo muttered softly to himself, shooting a glare in Raph’s direction.

“I think it’s good,” Raph had teased in response. “I look good in black and red.”

Leo had groaned, rolling his eyes, and Raph had joined Mikey and Dad in their embrace, wrapping his arms around both of them.

“It’s cool, Dad. Thanks,” he had said. “You didn’t have to make this for us.”

“Ah,” Dad had hummed, waving a hand slightly, as if to dismiss him. “Well. I wanted to, anyway.”

Even just thinking about it now, Raph smiled the tiniest bit, tightening his hand into a fist and feeling the crimson-red fabric wrapped around his palms.

We’ve got this, he repeated inwardly, forcing himself to settle slightly. You’re a member of the Hamato Clan. And your family is counting on you. And you can handle this.

“Alright, Donnie,” he said, taking care to keep his voice low. “Which way is your track-a-ma-thingie sayin’ now?”

Donnie scoffed softly, rolling his eyes. “Okay, first of all, that is not what it’s called. Please treat my inventions with respect,” he muttered, flicking his goggles down over his face, his lips pursed into a pout. “Energy signals are strongest in the northeast direction,” he explained, pointing. “So if we head in this direction, we should eventually get close enough that we’ll be able to isolate and recover.”

“Uhm, is it just me, or are we literally playing hot-and-cold with Donnie’s weird glasses?” Leo muttered, jerking a thumb in his twin’s direction.

“This is an advanced geothermal location tool…!”

“Hey, look! Donnie’s tracking thingie got us this far!” Raph hissed. “And it’s the only lead we’ve got, so until it blows up in our faces, that’s what we’ll do.”

“Excuse me!?”

“Are we sure it actually works? No offense, Dee, but this is a super weird place for a mystic armor piece to be,” April observed, looking around. “I mean… we’re literally in a department store.”

“You’re all disowned as my siblings. All of you,” Donnie hissed.

“I didn’t say anything bad!” Mikey protested.

“Except for Angelo.”

“Hell yeah!”

“Also, yes, of course it works! I don’t know why there’s a mystic armor piece in a Macy’s, how would I know that? But if you want to go on a thematic trip to recover a mystic armor shard from beneath the beautiful ripples of a sacred waterfall or something, we’re going to have to catch a Greyhound, because we’re literally in the middle of New York City,” Donnie hissed. “Of course it’s in a Macy’s! We’re lucky it’s not in a 99-cent-pizza-slice-kiosk a block from Times Square!”

“Shhh!” Raph hissed, glaring at the group. “We’re ninjas, remember? Shut up! We’re on a stealth mission!”

“Ugh,” Leo huffed a bit, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, sure, but it’s not like anyone is gonna hear us! We’re literally the only ones here.”

Somewhere down the hall, off in the darkness of the building, Raph heard a clatter and an echo.

---

This was often Casey’s job. So she was used to it by now. It wasn’t especially exciting, but it was at least better than lookout duty, which was her other, more frequent assignment. (That, or lookout for the lookouts…)

Sweeping.

She really only got to do this if the team was smaller, and they were already confident that the mission would go smoothly and there weren’t any threats… And, honestly, sweeping was basically the same as lookout, just mobile and with slightly different timing. But she would take it!!! Anything was better than lookout duty. Besides, having the chance to play a role in the Foot Clan’s rise to power was a great honor, and the more she got to contribute, the better.

Even if it did just mean that she entered the building first, stealthily did a few laps to make sure there was nothing dangerous, and then signaled everyone else to follow.

A part of her was proud of this. If she just looked at it on a surface level, she could puff out her chest and feel quite satisfied with the role she played; at being the frontlines, at being who they trusted to ensure the safety of both the mission and their leaders, to be the first line of defense.

(... The other part of her, though, the part of her that looked a little deeper, knew it was really mostly because she was unassuming and disposable. She held onto the pride anyway.)

Casey frowned as she moved through the store, peering around corners and around bends for any sign of life. She wasn’t so foolish as to let her guard down entirely, and she took care to keep her footsteps quiet and purposeful, sticking to the shadows just as she had been taught… But she had done this dozens of times now, and nothing ever happened save for that she got a chance to at least stretch her legs. And she supposed she was grateful for that, but…

Ugh! God, couldn’t she do something cool for once!? She simmered silently as she shuffled through the shadowy space, grinding her teeth quietly in her skull. She noted quietly to herself that she needed to stop doing that because she was starting to get headaches, but then kept doing it anyway. And she had perhaps allowed herself to be just the tiniest bit careless. Careless enough, at least, to accidentally swipe a small sign off a nearby jewelry counter. She resisted a groan of annoyance at her own clumsiness, grateful, at least, that no one else was around for her to embarrass herself in front of…

Or, so she had thought.

Cassandra froze at the hissed tone of hushed voices that filtered down through the hall, only moments later.

“What was that--”

“Shut up! What about stealth don’t you get--!?”

For a moment, Casey thought that she might have imagined the noise. She had never run into anyone on a sweep before-- not even once. The idea that she suddenly had was so shocking that she almost couldn’t process it. After about half a second of gaping, however, she came to her senses, gritting her teeth and giving a ferocious shake of her head to dismiss the thoughts.

Shape up, Recruit. This is your chance to be useful for once! She scolded. This was not the time to flounder or back down. This was her shot. Honestly, it was probably just some group of teenagers who had wandered in here on a dare or something, hoping to take some pictures so they could brag about it to their friends later… But that hardly mattered.

Any unknown or unauthorized presence was a threat to the mission.

All you have to do is go investigate and scare them off. Simple. Easy. And then you’ll be able to say you actually did something on these missions, for once!

No problem, right? It should have been easy. Cassandra may still be a low-level grunt, much to her chagrin, but she was still a member of the Foot Clan. She was perfectly capable of moving swiftly and silently through the shadows.

Not that she needed to.

Because they came to her.

She just barely had the time to tuck herself back behind the corner of the nearby jewelry counter by the time she realized they were approaching, shoving her back up against the glass and crouching down low. Apparently, they did, in fact, have the capability of moving quietly, despite their earlier displays.

“See anything?” A voice whispered, betraying them, and Casey couldn’t help but smirk a tiny bit to herself. Okay, maybe not that quiet.

“Shhh. Hang on. I know I heard something…”

Finally, Cassandra just barely built up the courage to shift, ever-so-slightly, in order to turn her head enough to peer out at the intruders. And in her mind, she was still fairly confident that it was just some kids looking for some kind of entertainment and adventure in the form of a misdemeanor.

She was not expecting to see five figures donning the Hamato Clan colors, nor find their emblems stitched boldly onto each of their chests.

For a second, Casey froze, ice shooting through her veins. The Hamato Clan?! What were they doing here!? Were these the same kids she had spent all that time spying on before, or had they called in reinforcements? She narrowed her eyes, straining slightly to try to examine them in the darkness, and concluded that they did look ever-so-slightly familiar… She grit her teeth, her hand shifting slightly, wavering just the tiniest bit as it moved to the communication device on her belt.

As much as she hated to admit it… Five Hamato ninjas was not a challenge she was confident she could face down all on her own.

It wasn’t her place.

She needed to alert the rest of the clan. If she didn’t, she would endanger the mission. Endanger everyone’s else’s safety.

This was her job-- literally her job. To go in first and weed out the danger and report back.

She needed to report back.

So why was her hand hesitating like this…?

Her fingers shook slightly, wavering near the edge of the device, and her foot shifted ever-so-slightly beneath her in her hesitation.

“What was that?”

Hurriedly, she snapped her finger down against the button that she knew would signal the rest of the clan, still waiting outside, alerting them to the danger, and she leaped up to her feet-- gathering whatever scraps of the element of surprise she still had at her disposal and leaping at the nearest enemy.

“Oh shi--!” The Hamato, armed with a sword, just barely managed to dodge her attack, ducking down and away from the swing of her arm, nearly losing his balance in his hurry.

“I told you I heard something!” He wailed, dancing backward, and Casey snarled in reply, chasing after him. She didn’t have much of a chance, however, and now it was her turn to dodge-- just able to avoid the kusari-fundo that came whipping into her view a moment later, flashing inches before her eyes as she swore and backed up.

“Now is so not the time for ‘I-told-you-so’s,’ Nardo,” Another hissed, jumping at her with a staff, nearly taking her head off with a sharp swing. Casey was both quietly impressed and annoyed with the strength behind it, twisting her stance so she could shoot a leg up and kick the weapon off-kilter, throwing off her opponent’s footing and sending him stumbling slightly to the side.

“Oh, please, like it wouldn’t be if you were the one who called it!” The swordsman scoffed in response, jumping forward to catch the other, grabbing him by the arm so he could correct his stance and keep him on his feet. Casey took the slight opening the distraction of their banter provided to turn on the other intruder nearby, her eyes wide behind her glasses, doling out a sharp kick to her leg before dancing away. But even as she did this, the other members of the Hamato Clan closed in.

Cursing under her breath, she reeled backward, trying to find the distance she needed to reevaluate when she was practically surrounded. But every time her eyes were locked on one intruder, another jumped at her, just a flash of movement out of the corners of her eyes, and it was all she could do but block, parry, and dodge. Casey bristled when the sword wielder came whipping towards her, his weapon drawn, and she just barely had the time to hold up her arms to block, bracing herself for the coming impact of sharp metal--

“STOP!”

The boy’s movements slowed ever-so-slightly as he faltered at the cry-- giving Casey just enough of a chance to duck away from the oncoming strike, leaping out of his range.

“Don’t slice her in half!!! What’s wrong with you!? She’s, like, a kid!!!” The largest of the group yelled, gesturing wildly. Casey gasped, immediately bristling in offense.

“Excuse me!? I am not a child! I am EIGHTEEN!” She shrieked. Well, almost eighteen, anyway. KINDA. Her ID said she was eighteen, which was really the most important part.

“See? She’s a legal adult!” The swordsman argued, shooting the other an annoyed look. “And, uh, also a part of a legion of evil ninjas? Sooooo…”

As soon as his eyes had left her, Casey seized the opening, ripping her kunai from her belt as she lunged forward. Twisting her leg sharply to collide with his chest, she sent him sprawling to the floor, his sword clattering as it fell from his grip. The moment he was down, she pinned him there with a foot to his throat, pressing him in place.

“Ack! Hey, stop!!! I’m a minor! This is child abuse!” He cried in protest, wriggling a bit beneath her even as she drove her heel in deeper to his windpipe, eliciting a very satisfying choking gasp. She didn’t have much opportunity to take advantage of her position, however, because no more than a second later, the largest of the group was charging her. Her eyes widening slightly, she abandoned the pinned swordsman in favor of leaping backward to dodge the coming attacks, falling quickly back into the pattern of defensive ducking and dodging, because that was not something she wanted to be hit by, thank you very much!!!

Come on, backup, come on…! Hurry up…!

---

The second that they had heard that noise down the halls, Yoshi had been on his feet, tense and ready to run. And now, as he raced towards his children, he spat curses at his past self for not starting to move right then and there-- for letting them approach without him in the first place. Had he honestly believed that this would be safe!? Had actually expected there to be no threat here!?

Stupid, foolish, arrogant man…!

He was already moving as fast as he could, but as soon as he could hear the sound of combat, he somehow managed to move even faster.

---

Cassandra hissed softly through her teeth, feeling sweat tickle its way down her brow, her chest heaving with breath as she ducked away from another blow. She was fast and she was capable in the face of combat-- but so were they, and there were five of them. It was all she could do to stay out of reach, repeatedly dodging and blocking blows, but she was quickly growing exhausted. Please hurry up! She pleaded in her mind. She’d keep going until she physically couldn’t any longer. She wouldn’t back down. But she wasn’t sure how much longer she had until she hit that point.

The largest one-- he was the real problem. She gasped as his arm went swinging towards her, quite nearly losing her balance in her rush to avoid the blow. He was so big. And on the rare occasion that she was actually able to send out a counter-attack, they seemed meaningless to him, practically bouncing off his body as though he couldn’t even feel them. How was she supposed to penetrate a literal wall of muscle like this!?

Why the fuck do I have to be so damn small!?!?!

“Hot Soup!” Shrieked the smallest of the group, all but throwing himself at her, his leg moving in a wide arc, and for a split second, Casey bristled--

But she hadn’t spent all those years training for nothing.

There was an opening. Just a small one-- but his arc was just a bit higher than it needed to be to cover himself completely, and as soon as Cassandra had zeroed in on the chance to counterattack, she was darting forward, teeth bared and eyes narrowed with focus.

His ribs were exposed.

And the small one, they didn’t quite have the time to react and adjust, to close the opening. But apparently, the big one did, throwing himself in her path to physically shield his brother, a sharp, protective snarl that sounded almost like an animal rumbling from him. Cassandra was forced to recalculate, her trajectory rapidly shifting--

But that was fine.

Because in his rush to protect his brother, he had left himself open, too.

The jewelry counter was right there, and all it took was a nimble flip to the side, pushing off with her right ankle to gracefully toss herself over the surface and transition quickly into a wide kick. The counter was littered with spinning displays, the plastic trees all adorned with earrings and necklaces, and Casey caught the base of one of them with her foot, hooking it with the bend of her ankle and throwing her whole body hard to the side.

She may be too small to pose a real threat to the big one. But a little creativity could always even the playing field.

So could weapons.

A sharp, choked cry just barely wrenched itself from the largest Hamato as he went stumbling backward, the jewelry display slamming into his side and crashing down to the ground next to him with a horrendous clatter. She was dimly aware of his siblings crying out as well around him in concern-- which meant she had a very clear, very free path forward to bury a kunai into his stomach.

The world narrowed down to her goal and her target. Her fingers tightened around the knife. All her muscles tensed. And she pounced for her victim.

She had just barely begun to move when the impact of a hurricane slammed her back down to the ground, a short shriek of shock escaping from her chest with the absolute force of it.

“Dad!”

“All of you! Get out of here! Now!” An unfamiliar voice snapped, strained with panic, though Casey barely processed it through the sensation of her arms both being twisted back to her spine, creaking in protest as she was pinned down to the ground. She just barely managed a thrash, but the pitch of the pain in her joints quickly convinced her to remain still, and a high-pitched snarl of fury just barely managed to escape her.

No…! She had them! She had him, she had finally had a chance to turn the tides--!

“But what about--”

“I said go! Right now! I will be right behind you--”

The familiar thunk of a throwing star embedding itself into nearby drywall had Casey’s head snapping upward. And she just barely contained a shrill, giddy little laugh of delight.

There was the back-up.

The pressure in her shoulder released a second later as the weight disappeared, the eldest Hamato forced to release her in order to retreat and dodge the oncoming barrage of shooting stars. She absolutely cackled, on her feet in a second, and this time, finally, she was on the advancing side.

She finally got to take the offensive.

She threw herself at the elder Hamato, laying down blow after blow, and was frustrated to find that for every strike she delivered, he was able to block with ease and find the space to counter. She hissed in pain as the sharp of his hand collided with her shoulder, sending her stumbling slightly, and she twisted her ankles slightly to find her footing again--

And all at once, the Hamato Clan was gone. She didn’t even realize that the other five had already retreated until the last remaining shoved her away and darted off, disappearing in a blink, as though he had never even been there.

For a moment, Cassandra was frustrated. She bristled, considering chasing after him-- considering turning to the rest of the clan to see who all was assembled, to follow them, to continue the fight.

But she wouldn’t move without the orders from her senseis.

And once she had half a second to breathe, she was tickled to find blood on her hands that did not belong to her. She couldn’t stop herself from grinning.

Perhaps she and her clan had accomplished more than she had initially believed.

---

The shrill cry of a honking car cut through the air, blasting through the previous quiet. Or, at least, relatively quiet, considering they lived in New York City.

April gasped loudly, jumping and clapping her hands over her ears and wincing a bit, shrinking back against the assault to her ears. The sound seemed to absolutely echo through the alleyway where she and Mikey were playing, working on their latest chalk mural together. It didn’t last more than a couple of seconds, but she was still a bit dazed when she finally opened her eyes again, her heart beating it her chest.

Whoa. That was a little scary. She hadn’t expected that.

She giggled a tiny bit at how startled she was, letting out a long breath. But when she turned around to face Mikey again, she was surprised to find him curled up in a tiny little ball on the ground, his arms and legs both tucked in close to his body and his chin ducked down against his chest.

“... Mikey?” April said, frowning a bit, tilting her head to the side as she leaned over him. “Are you okay?”

It took a second, but eventually, Mikey peeked open an eye, looking sort of confused for a moment. But then, all at once, he untensed his muscles, all his limbs unfolding as he rolled over onto his butt instead, sitting on the ground and staring up at her.

“... That was loud!” He said.

“Yeah,” April agreed. “Uhm. Why are you on the ground though?”

“I got scared!!!”

“Yeah, but… why did you get on the ground ‘cause you were scared?”

“Oh. Uh. I dunno,” Mikey said, shrugging a bit. “I just. Curl up sometimes, and stuff…”

“Yeah, but why?”

“Uh. I’unno. ‘Cause… it’s… it feels safer and stuff,” he said.

“But don’t you fall down like that?”

“Uhm…”

“And doesn’t that hurt, though, if you just fall over like that and curl up?”

“Well…”

“And then you’re on the ground.”

“Yeah, but…”

“And where’d you learn to do that? That’s weird. I’ve never seen anyone else do that before,” April continued. “Also, why do you--”

She broke off when Mikey blinked widely at her, sniffled, and then rapidly teared up, staring up at her and giving an absolutely pitiful sob.

April’s eyes widened in shock at the rapid shift.

“Okay, okay fine, it’s not weird! Don’t cry! You can be a ball! Here, we can go back to chalk now-- Pleaseeee stop crying! Mikey, come on, cut it out…!”

---

They didn’t stop running for a while.

Raph’s heart was in his throat.

He could run faster than April could, and he was pretty sure that most of his siblings were not running near as fast as they really could, all worried about their father, but he endeavored to keep himself in the rear anyway. Leo could head the charge; he was staying in the back. He was making sure no one was being left behind.

Including their father.

He let his father be behind him. But just barely.

It wasn’t until they were about a block away that Leo finally managed to open up a portal, having been attempting since their retreat began, slicing through the fabric of the world with his odachi. Raph didn’t think he had been meaning to teleport them all directly into his own room, but he wasn’t in any mood to be picky about what part of the house they got portalled to.

It wasn’t until the fizzling blue light curled in on itself behind them, the portal sliding closed, that Raph finally allowed himself to breathe again.

And as soon as he did, he felt like he was going to fucking collapse.

It was mostly just adrenaline, he was pretty sure, more than actual injury, but he suddenly felt just the tiniest bit lightheaded as a sharp ache climbed its way up his ribcage, and he grabbed onto Leo’s bedpost to steady himself with a small wince. Either way, his siblings were all crowded around him in a moment in worry-- and so was their dad.

“Red…! Are you okay? Are you injured? Let me see--!” Their dad bit out, his eyes wide with frantic worry, and Raph kind of stared at him in response, his own gaze echoing his. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times before he was finally able to summon up actual words.

“Pops, you’re-- you’re bleedin’.”

All four of his siblings’ heads snapped around to turn their attention to Dad, and Mikey shrieked.

It wasn’t bleeding that bad, honestly.

But Raph was pretty sure that was because the throwing star was still embedded in his dad’s shoulder.

“Oh my god…!” April squeaked, her eyes wide, and their father immediately shrank back slightly, turning his shoulder purposefully away from the others.

“I am fine. It looks worse than it is,” he dismissed quickly, keeping his eyes trained squarely on Raphael. “Red. Answer the question. Are you injured?”

“I-- It’s just sore. ‘M fine,” Raph said quickly, still a bit breathless. One of his hands wandered up to his ribs, just to check to make sure he wasn’t lying, and it sure was sore, and he was, admittedly, bleeding a little-- but not bad. The pain wasn’t awful. It hurt, but he had had worse in football.

His dad had a fucking ninja star sticking out of him.

“Dad, here, sit down, we-- we can call--”

“Do not call anyone,” their father instructed sharply, throwing the group a look that said do not argue with me, and Raph clamped his mouth shut. “It is fine. I promise I can handle it. Purple, go and fetch the first aid kit and an ice pack for your brother. Orange, go with him, please.”

Whereas Donnie had no qualms with excusing himself from the current situation, (he was looking a bit ashen,) Mikey hesitated, his face pinched with worry.

“But I--”

“Mikey,” Dad cut him off quickly, narrowing his eyes slightly. “I need you to listen to me. I do not want Purple by himself right now. He needs you to go with him.”

Angelo frowned, and he swallowed. He opened his mouth, just for a moment, like he was going to argue further. But then he didn’t, slipping from the room at a hurried pace, rushing slightly to catch up to his older brother.

Raph’s body sagged slightly with relief. He swore he saw Dad do the same.

And almost as soon as the two were gone from the room, to Raphael’s absolute horror, their dad twisted himself enough so that he could reach around and deftly yank the jagged piece of metal from his shoulder.

“Dad!” Raph yelped, his eyes widening. “What are you doing!? What about--”

“Calm down, Raphael,” Dad said, and it was almost eerie how calm he was. With cold, practiced, measured movements, their father wasted no time at all in bandaging his own wounds, removing his mask and tearing it with his teeth so he could tie a tourniquet, using his sleeve to staunch the bleeding.

The way he moved-- it was like he had done this a thousand times before. A shiver raced down Raphael’s spine, and he stiffened ever so slightly, a wince pinching his features for just a moment.

“There,” Dad said as soon as he was done, quickly turning his focus back to his eldest. “I’m fine until Purple gets back with the first aid kit. Let me see your injury,” he said, gentle but insistent, and Raph huffed, wrinkling up his nose, but he lifted his shirt up for Dad to see, anyway.

There were a few small punctures and scrapes, but nothing more than a few centimeters deep or so, all small and just barely bleeding. And it certainly hurt, but Dad’s careful, prodding hands didn’t bring about any sharp pitches of the pain, and Raph was fairly certain he had managed to get away without any cracked ribs-- just bruised ones.

“I told you I’m fine,” Raph muttered under his breath, and their dad glanced up to shoot him a look.

“You’re lucky,” he hissed, gritting his teeth, bristling for just a moment before the heat died out. “I’m sorry.”

“Dad, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.”

“I don’t want any of you to be hurt--”

“You’re hurt worse than I am!” Raph protested, gesturing wildly to his arm, still sluggishly bleeding. “And the only reason you got hurt is ‘cause you were coverin’ us!”

Their Dad stiffened, shoulders hunched slightly. “That’s not--”

“Yes, it is!” Raph snapped in reply. “We’re not stupid, Dad, come on! It’s--” He cut himself off, grinding his jaw slightly and sighing deeply through his nose. “... Just don’t apologize, okay? You didn’t do anythin’ wrong. You’re the one who bailed us outta there. And got ninja-starred. We’re the ones who--”

“You did fine, Raphael,” Now it was Dad who cut him off. “You all did fine. This wasn’t… I didn’t expect them to be there,” he sighed, frowning a bit, looking to the side. “... But you all did well. I’m very proud of all of you. It’s not your fault, either.”

He kept quiet for a moment, frowning as he glanced over at April and Leo, who had been quiet the entire time, wide-eyed and seeming slightly shaky.

“Are either of you injured…?”

They both shook their heads ‘no.’

“We’re okay, Pops,” Leo said, letting out a long, deep breath. “... We’re alright. Thanks.”

They didn’t talk for a bit after that, all just sitting together and waiting for Donnie and Mikey to come back-- just sitting and processing, and coming to terms with the fact that they had all made it out okay.

And Raph had never been much of a thinker.

But he was thinking now.

His hand wandered up and down his own side, pressing gently at the bruised muscles and soft, torn skin as he pondered.

---

There was this pinch in the back of Yoshi’s throat that he was fighting off.

He should have known this would happen.

“Yoshi.” His teacher’s voice was all gentle and soft and patient, but Yoshi scowled, glaring off to the side-- his shoulders hunched up and his body slumped in the chair. The room was empty except for the two of them, all the other students having been dismissed aside from him-- all filled up with unoccupied desks and chairs and making Yoshi feel stupidly, annoyingly small.

“It’s nice to see you in class again, Yoshi,” his teacher continued, despite his lack of response, leaning over slightly so she could rest her elbows on the desk she had Yoshi parked in front of. She kept trying to catch his eyes, but he refused to let her. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Yoshi wrinkled up his nose, shrugging noncommittally.

It had been a week and a half since he had last been at school, and it had been such a battle just to get Jiji to let him come today. Not that that was especially unusual. Yoshi had never attended school regularly. School wasn’t a priority for him. Training was the priority. Lessons with Jiji were the priority. Studying the Hamato Clan history was the priority. School was not. He went to school like it was a hobby-- something to do in his spare time. He would usually show up for perhaps a couple days a week, usually less, and the rest of the days during which he was absent would be explained away with some excuse or story or another. Something about his health-- Yoshi didn’t really keep track, truthfully. One of his second cousins, a doctor, but more importantly, a medic to the Clan, would always provide all the documentation required. Everyone, it seemed, had accepted a long time ago that Hamato Yoshi usually just didn’t go to school. Had accepted him as an occasional, wavering presence, fading in and out of the edges of everyone else’s lives.

Except for Miss Ito.

For some reason, his fourth-year elementary school teacher just couldn’t accept that fact.

Jiji hadn’t wanted him to come today. Yoshi had had to fight for it. When he was younger, he used to whimper and cry, feeling sorry for himself, but nowadays, they usually fought. He had gotten sick of feeling sorry for himself. Now he’d just yell at his Jiji until he either got his way or his throat got raw.

Usually, it was the latter.

Jiji hadn’t wanted him to come, and Yoshi had convinced him that he should get to, and now Miss Ito had him sat in front of her desk in an empty classroom, talking all gentle to him, and Yoshi thought bitterly to himself that now he was never going to win that argument ever again.

“What happened to your arm, Yoshi?”

Yoshi grit his teeth slightly, his frown deepening at the question that he already knew she was leading up to.

“I tripped,” he responded easily, finally looking up at her just so that he could give her the coldest look that he possibly could, trying as best as he possibly could to summon the energy of an angry, bristling cat. Don’t mess with me. Back off.

She didn’t seem perturbed, of course, because she never was. She looked more sad than anything, and Yoshi had always hated that.

“I see,” she said. “That must have been a pretty rough fall.”

Yoshi rolled his eyes.

They were just bruises. She acted as if he was missing a limb. Even worse than that-- she acted like he was some sad, pitiful little child, being tossed around the room by some abusive drunkard or something. He was sure that that was what she assumed, and it made him prickle with defensiveness. It wasn’t like Jiji was hitting him. They were just training. Sometimes, things happened during training. It was no one’s fault. Jiji didn’t mean to. It was just an accident. Jiji had apologized, like, eighty times. Yoshi knew he would never hurt him on purpose.

It had been a difficult sequence they were learning, that was all. It was Yoshi’s own fault-- he was the one who had misstepped and been too slow. And now that his face had healed, he had finally been able to convince Jiji to let him go back to school for a day.

He hadn’t been thinking when he rolled up his sleeves earlier-- he just did it. His sleeve got wet when a classmate spilled her water, and so he had just rolled it up out of the way. He had forgotten that he had anything to hide. No one was supposed to see it.

Certainly not Miss Ito. No one else would have even cared except for Miss Ito.

He could already hear Jiji saying, ‘I told you so.’

“I fell down the stairs,” he said dismissively, shrugging a bit. “But it’s fine. It doesn’t hurt. Can I go now?”

Miss Ito sighed very quietly.

“... We missed you at the sports festival last week. I’m sorry you weren’t able to be there. I know you were excited to participate this year,” she observed gently. “And all your classmates were looking forward to--”

Yoshi stiffened, this little lump kind of swelling up in his throat.

“Can I go now?” He said again, cutting her off.

“Yoshi--”

“Am I allowed to leave? I have to go. There are people waiting for me,” he pressed, harder now, standing up from his seat even before he was dismissed, staring the teacher down. Challenging her, almost. Daring her to say no.

Please, please, please just let me go. Don’t make me late getting home. Don’t call anyone. Don’t send a letter home. Just let me go, and if I run, I can still get home on time, and Jiji won’t have to know--

She sighed very, very deeply, giving him those same sad, sympathetic eyes that he didn’t want on him. There were people out there who were sad and needed sympathy. He was not one of them.

“... Alright, Yoshi,” she said. “But you can come talk to me if you ever need anything. Okay?”

Yoshi frowned, giving only a grumble in response as he grabbed his bag, eager to leave.

“Will I see you in class tomorrow?” She asked.

Yoshi hesitated just for a moment, clenching his jaw a few times.

“I dunno yet.”

---

Dad was at a doctor’s appointment with Leo. Raph was at work. Donnie was in his lab. Mikey had checked. He had taken two full laps around the house to account for everyone and make sure that really, truly, he had the clearance for what he intended to do. Everyone except for him and Donnie were out, and shouldn’t be home for another hour-- and he had the entire house in between him and Donnie. He’d hear him coming with plenty of time if he decided to emerge from his coding binge, which was unlikely.

He did one last sweep of the first floor, just to make sure, his skin itching and crawling nervously and his stomach doing repeated and unwelcome pas de chats. Repeatedly, he thought, are we sure about this? He thought, sneaking around like this feels wrong. He thought, what if this is an awful idea? What if we get in trouble?

But then he also thought, I have to protect our family. I have to help, too.

He thought, I won’t let anyone else get hurt on my behalf. Not again.

And he tempered his resolve.

As quiet as a ninja, he slipped into his father’s room, leaving the door just barely cracked behind him so he could hear if anyone approached. He had been a bit worried that his dad would have moved it to some new hiding place, and he’d have to waste a bunch of time searching for it-- but he didn’t.

The chest was in the exact same place in his closet, tucked inside the box with the clothes, just where Leo, Donnie, and April had found it the first time. It felt heavier than he remembered, somehow. He took care to cover his tracks, awkwardly hiding the bulky object inside his denim jacket and made a hasty escape. His heart was up in his throat because even though he had taken every single precaution, he couldn’t help but feel like someone was going to burst through the door and ask him what the hell he was doing at any moment.

His heart rate didn’t even begin to settle until he had made it back to his own room, closing and locking the door behind him and curling up in his bed.

Originally, he had intended to sit and think about this for a while-- to prepare himself for what he was about to do and get his mind right. But now, he was afraid that if he did, he’d lose his nerve and chicken out. And he had already thought about this. He had already thought about it long and hard and made the decision. He didn’t need to wobble on the subject any longer. The sooner, the better.

He opened up the chest, pulling the familiar, ghostly white scrolls out from inside. And the moment he did, suddenly, he was not alone in the room.

The mist that filled the air made him sneeze a few times.

“Greetings, young Hamato,” said Ghost-Sensei, as if he didn’t even mind that it had been weeks since they last spoke, as if nothing had changed, as if he already knew what Mikey planned to do. “What wisdom do you seek?”

Mikey bit the inside of his cheek, squaring his shoulders and curling his hands into fists.

If his family didn’t believe that he could protect them-- that he could protect himself-- there had to be a reason. There had to be something wrong.

If he couldn’t protect anyone, then he would learn how.

“Those basics you were talking about before? With the ninpo and Hamato Clan traditions and my destiny and stuff?” He said. “I’m ready to learn all that. Teach me.”

[ next ]

219 notes · View notes