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pedrito-friskito · 1 year

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strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during / after - part twenty-one

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

time is unkind.

a/n: y'all. this is covering SO MUCH. I didn't initially plan for it be the end of the during AND the start of the after but that's where we ended up so that's what happening! I can't wait for the reactions, there's a LOT in here so buckle in!

word count: 11.5k (I wasn't fucking kidding)

warnings: y'all know the drill. smut, fluff, angst, violence. from here on out, as heavy as the show.

✨@friskito-library for updates on new parts/works✨

“I have another surprise for you.”

Your voice is laced with sleep as you dive your hands into his hair, nails dragged along his scalp. “Another one? Aren’t I a lucky girl…”

He chuckles as he drags his mouth over your collarbone, dotting kisses along the curve. “I’m the lucky one,” he rasps, letting his nose bump your sternum, one hand crawling up your body and squeezing at your breast. “God, you smell so fuckin’ good.”

“It’s lavender,” you whisper, your back arching as he roams a little lower, pushing your shirt out of the way so he can suck at your hipbone. “I should ask Frank for the—fuck.”

Your leg jumps, hooking over his shoulder, and Joel grins. “Eager,” he murmurs, snapping the elastic of your underwear against your thigh. “You have no idea how badly I just wanna—”

“Joel,” you chide, tugging lightly at his hair. “We shouldn’t. Bill and Frank are—”

“Right downstairs,” he groans, making his way back up, sighing when your hands slip under his shirt, curling around his ribs. “I know.”

You hum when he buries his face in the curve of your neck, a hot kiss against the underside of your jaw. “Are you gonna tell me what the surprise is,” you ask, dragging your nails lightly along his skin, “or do I have to guess?”

“Oh, you’re not gonna guess this one either, baby,” he replies, grinning as he says it. “You really had no idea about yesterday?”

“Not a fucking clue. And I’m still mad you wrote your vows, meanwhile, I’m making shit up on the spot.”

Joel chuckles, pulling his head back so he can see your face. “What you said was beautiful.” He gives you a soft peck. “Short but sweet.”

“Joel.”

“It was perfect, Liv. And everything you said, I already know. I got you, you got me, and nothing else matters. I just…I wanted to give you something, something close to what we could have had before everything went to shit, cuz you deserve it, after the hell I put you through, after everything we—”

You silence him with a kiss. “You deserve it, too, Joel. You do.”

He just kisses you again.

After Joel had kissed the bride and the small crowd had finished cheering, Frank had led you all into the house, into the dining room, where the table was set for five. You and Joel sat beside each other, and he refused to let go of your hand, leaning over the arm of his chair so his shoulder was pressed to yours. Bill cooked a fantastic dinner, and informed you all that the roast beef served had been aged since before the outbreak.

“I was saving it for a special occasion,” he said, giving you the tiniest of smiles as he filled your wine glass. “This felt like the right one.”

You lost track of how many times your glass was filled. After dinner — and after you were both surprised with a small but perfect wedding cake covered in strawberries — you’d all shuffled from the dining room to the living room. Bill and Frank took turns playing tunes on the piano, and Tess surprised you all with a raspy rendition of Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer. You used to have the CD in your car, back in the day, and Tess’s soft voice and the piano brought tears to your eyes.

Halfway through, Joel had pulled you to your feet, slipped his arms around you, and you swayed in time to the music, right there in the foyer of Bill and Frank’s house. The first dance you never thought you’d get. He’d hummed along in your ear, and you laid your head on his shoulders, so blissfully happy part of you worried you were dreaming, and that you’d wake up and it would all fade away.

But it didn’t.

Eventually, the piano was swapped for the same radio that had crooned Led Zeppelin as you walked down the aisle. Bill produced an impressive collection, and you all took turns playing old favourites, dancing together until the sun faded completely and night took hold, your minds buzzed with wine and friendship and love and happiness.

It went without saying that you would all spend the night, and Tess insisted she was good on the couch, you and Joel took the spare room. He’d joked that you should take a shower together before going to sleep, but he’d half-carried you up the stairs, and the moment your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light. He woke you gently a few hours later, pulled the flowers from your hair and helped you out of your dress. You’d crawled beneath the sheets together then, and fell asleep curled against each other.

It was perfect.

Part of Joel wishes you’ll put the dress back on, just so he can see you in it again. The memory is fresh, your bright eyes and brighter smile imprinted in his mind, but still, he wishes he could relive yesterday over and over and over again.

“I can feel you staring, you know,” you quip, your voice still a little raspy with sleep. You’re pulling your jeans up, denim sliding over the curve of your ass. You give a little hop, and Joel’s eyes snag on the scar on your side, the way the tendrils have snaked out beneath your skin. He shakes his head as you turn, reaching for your shirt on the bed. He finishes with his own buttons, shoves his hand through his hair as he rounds the bed. You squeak when he hooks his fingers in your belt loop, hauling you against him and dropping his head so he can give you a hungry kiss.

You return it enthusiastically, one hand curling in the fabric of his shirt, tugging enough that he can feel the seams strain slightly. Faintly, your names are called, and Joel goes to move, reluctantly pulling his mouth from yours, but you make a little nuh-uh noise, moving your hand up to cup the back of his neck, pulling him back down to you.

Frank’s voice gets a little bit louder, and Joel pulls back again. “We should get downstairs, baby,” he mumbles into your mouth, chuckling when you keep kissing him as he speaks. “The sooner we finish up here, the sooner you see the next surprise.”

He doesn’t think you’ve ever sprung away from him so quickly before.

“Good morning,” you say brightly as you head down the stairs, Joel a half-step behind you. “Something smells good.”

Frank steps out of the living room, grinning widely. “Breakfast, with the good coffee,” he says, and Joel’s stomach growls. “You sleep okay?”

“Like a fucking baby,” you laugh, and Joel watches the two of you head into the dining room, Frank’s arm wound across your shoulders, yours slung around his waist. “That mattress is something else.”

Joel follows, his hungry stomach and desperation for coffee propelling him forward. You take the same seats you had at dinner last night, and you inhale deeply as you sink into your chair, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Wait, where’s Tess?” you ask, about to get up again, concern on your face.

“She left early this morning,” Frank answers, setting mugs in front of you both, coffee pot in hand.

“What?”

“She’s heading back to Boston,” Joel starts to explain, covering your hand with his. “She’ll radio here when she gets back, let them know she made it okay. She’s gonna cover for us being gone a few more days.”

Your eyes narrow. “A few more days?”

Frank starts filling your mugs. “Call it a honeymoon, of sorts. She’ll be fine.” He glances at his watch. “She should be back in the QZ in the next hour or so.”

“Can we wait?” you ask, turning to Joel, both hands wrapped around your forearm. “Not that I’m not excited for whatever it is you have planned next, but I need to know she made it back okay.”

“Yeah, baby,” he agrees with a nod, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face, rub his thumb over your bottom lip. “We can wait.”

Almost as soon as Tess’s voice warbles over the radio, you’re gone. Goodbyes filled with thank yous are said at the gate, a tight hug shared between you and Frank that makes your chest ache with how grateful you are. Even Bill gives you a little squeeze.

While Joel’s quiet on the details, you learn that the plan is to head wherever you’re going for a few days, then circle back to Lincoln to resupply before you head back to the QZ. “So, we’ll see you in a couple days,” Frank says, walking you both up to the gate, Bill a little ways behind. “Stay safe, keep each other safe.”

“Always,” Joel says with a nod.

“And enjoy it!” Frank tells you, his voice climbing as he opens the door in the gate. “Bye, lovebirds!”

It’s a long fucking hike. You think it’s longer than the trek from Boston to Lincoln, though Joel keeps insisting that it’s not. You stick to the roads for some time, take paths through the forest for a couple hours before you’re back on the main roads, and then back into the forest again.

“You’re sure you know where you’re going?” you ask after he’s pulled out the map for the third time.

“Yes, baby,” he says, glancing between you and the road, squinting at a toppled sign on the shoulder. “We’re almost there.”

Your bags are heavy, filled with enough food to last you a few days, a spare gun courtesy of Bill, canteens of water. The sun does its best to break through the trees, and you can feel the sweat dripping with every step.

Finally, you reach what looks like the edge of the trees, and Joel stops. “Hold up.”

You stop in your tracks, turning back to him, and he comes up behind you, turning you towards the tree line, reaching up to cover your eyes with his hands. You giggle, putting your hands over his, and he nudges you forward, his voice a low murmur in your ear.

“Yep, keep going, baby. There you go, I got you, don’t worry, I won’t let you fall. Just a couple more steps and then…”

You feel the sun full force, the rays hitting your face as Joel pulls his hands away, keeping his fingers linked with yours.

“Go on, open ‘em.”

You don’t remember seeing the sky so bright and blue. The clearing is perfectly framed with trees, leading up a rocky hill on one side, sloping down to a piece of flat land on the other. A crystalline lake sits in the middle of the space, a small cabin tucked along the water’s edge. More trees shroud one side of the cabin, curl around the lake to the place you’re standing, completely awestruck, completely at a loss for words.

“Tommy and I found this place, before you brought us into the QZ,” Joel murmurs, and steps around you, still holding your hand, tugging you after him. “Stumbled on it, more like. I thought it would be a nice little place for us, just for a few days. It’s well-hidden, we won’t have any issues with Infected, and nobody’ll come lookin’ for us.”

You’re still awestruck, your jaw hinged open, and you can barely form the words. “You got me a wedding and a honeymoon?”

Joel chuckles, flushing bright red, staring down at his boots and rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

You reach out with your free hand, curling your hand in the front of his shirt and haul him against you. It takes him by surprise, apparently, because he nearly stumbles over his boots into you, free arm flailing before it’s hooking around your neck. You stretch up on your toes, closing the distance between your mouth and his, kissing him with every ounce of strength you have. You can feel him smiling, and you’re both breathless when you lean back, the colour in Joel’s face even brighter, and you grin back at him as you let him lead you towards the cabin.

It’s a small place, all one room, a little dirty in the corners, but you don’t care. Bill and Frank loaned you sleeping bags, and Joel makes a makeshift bed along one wall, asks if you’re hungry, but you’re more preoccupied with the view outside, the way the sunlight glints off the water, the way it’s just so goddamned blue.

“C’mon,” you say to Joel, tugging on his arm, pulling him out of the cabin, towards the lake’s edge. He gives you an almost wary look as you lean down to untie your laces, toe off your boots, reach for the hem of your shirt.

“What’re you…?” he trails off, putting his hands on his hips.

“What does it look like?” you throw back, your grin growing wider as you throw your shirt at him. You shimmy out of your jeans a moment later, then take off, sprinting down the dock that leads into the water. It looks deep, farther out, and you launch yourself off the end, squealing with delight as you hit the lake with a splash.

It feels like heaven. The first few inches of water have been warmed by the sun, and then it’s colder the deeper you go. You come back up with a gasp, shoving your wet hair back from your face, giggling like mad at the shocked expression on Joel’s face.

“Are you coming or what?” you call, and your laughter continues as he nearly topples over trying to yank off his boots. His clothes join the pile of yours on the ground, and then he’s barrelling down the dock, leaping off the end with a shout. You wince at the splash he sends your way, and you feel his hands around your legs a moment later, skirting up your shins until he breaks the surface again, gasping like you had, but his teeth start to chatter a moment later.

“Coulda warned me it was cold!”

“Oh, don’t be a baby.”

Your swim doesn’t last long. Joel doesn’t understand how you can bear being that cold from the waist down, and you poke fun at him a few more times until you’re ready to get out, and suddenly you’re the one complaining about the cold.

He chuckles, wraps you in one of the towels Frank had packed. “Don’t be such a baby, baby.”

You stick your tongue out at him.

The sun starts to set, and Joel starts collecting wood for a fire. You poke through the food in your packs, decide what to have for dinner, making a triumphant noise when you find a flask of whiskey Frank had tucked in your bag. After the fire is built, you share a can of soup for dinner and strawberries for dessert. The flask is half-empty by the time the sun has completely set, the moon taking its place and the stars coming out to play.

You hum happily, tucked against Joel’s side in front of the fire. Your hair is still damp from the lake, and he brushes it behind your ear before leaning in to kiss the space below your ear. “You like it, Liv? Really?”

“I love it,” you reply, turning your face to his, the tip of your nose nudging his. “I love you.”

Joel pours himself into the kiss, cupping your cheeks in his palms. You don’t waste time getting closer, manoeuvring yourself into his lap, your knees planted either side of him. When your weight settles onto him, Joel lifts his hips, and drinks down the gasp you offer, your hair brushing his cheeks as your forehead tilts into his, mouth dropping open.

“You wanna go inside, baby?” he asks, nipping at your bottom lip, letting his thumb ride the curve of your cheek. You shake your head. “No?”

“No,” you repeat, lifting your jaw to capture his lips again. “Want you to fuck me right here, right out in the open.”

His jeans go impossibly tight at your rasped words, and in a flash, you’re standing, your feet still planted either side of him, reaching for the button on your pants. You push them down, pulling one foot out and then the other, and Joel doesn’t miss the fact that you’ve removed your underwear in the process, leaving you bare above him.

He surges up instantly, hands sliding up your bare legs, grabbing handfuls of your ass as he covers you with his mouth. You stare down at him, your eyes heavy-lidded as he licks you, swirling his tongue around your clit, dropping his chin so he can reach more of you. ��Jesus Christ.”

Joel would happily stay there until your legs are shaking, thigh quaking around his ears, but you don’t let him stay long, fingers diving into his hair and yanking just hard enough that he detaches from you. “One of these days,” he grits out, nipping a kiss into the inside of your thigh, “I’m gonna spread you out and eat you until you see stars, Olivia Miller.”

You just laugh, a devilish grin on your face.

You sink down slow, still gripping his hair, your other hand skimming down his front until it reaches his undone belt buckle. He groans as you lick the taste of yourself right out of his mouth, gripping his chin in your hand as your other works the button on his jeans, freeing him from the confines of the denim.

Still, you waste no time. He grunts as you take him in hand, lining him up with where you’re nearly dripping, sinking down slow. Your lips brush over his, both of you gasping as he fills you to the brim. He nearly squeezes his eyes shut, but he’s too preoccupied with how beautiful you look, your body half-illuminated by the fire, catching on the planes of your face, the strands of your hair.

“Pretty baby,” he murmurs, diving one hand into your hair, gripping tighter towards the back of your head until you let out a quiet hiss, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip. “Beautiful girl.”

You kiss him hard as you start to move, your hips a long drag across his. He can’t stifle his moans, reaching up to pull at the collar of your shirt — his shirt, always his shirt — until he can bury his face in your chest, letting his beard scrape your soft skin, revelling in the scent and feel of you. He can never get over the feel of you, so perfectly tight, gripping every inch and ridge of him in the most perfect way. His hands roam, squeezing your ass, your hips, your thighs, mapping out every curve of your body beneath his fingers.

He can feel it when you’re close — he always can; he knows the sensation like the baddest of habits. But this time, something’s different. Your pace grows faster, your hips more erratic, every squeeze making his cock twitch inside you. He feels your nails dig hard into his shoulder, your chest heaving with every breath you suck down, and Joel grips your hips, guides you along him, coaxes you up to that peak.

“That’s it, baby, that’s my girl. I got you, it’s right there, huh? I feel it, let it go, c’mon.”

He’s never heard you make a noise like that.

You go so tight he nearly cums right after you, but manages to last a few more moments, letting you draw out your own orgasm. When you collapse against his chest, completely spent, he slips from you, but it only takes two slick slides against your clit before he’s cumming against your thigh, gasping in your ear. “Holy shit.”

It’s a long moment before you’ve caught your breath, grumbling about your knees, and when you go to lift out of his lap, your eyes drop down and go wide. Joel’s follow, first seeing the mess he’s left on your skin, and then the damp patch you’ve left on his jeans.

“Well, that’s new.”

“Let’s go inside,” he mumbles, nosing at your pulse, leaving a wet kiss on your skin. “I wanna make you do it again.”

The few days you spend at the little cabin are nothing short of blissful. It’s nice, to be away from the city, from all the people, FEDRA not looming over your heads. You refuse to let your mind wander back to Boston, force yourself to stay present, at your little getaway with Joel, who has barely let you put your clothes back on since the first night.

You’ve had a few more dips in the lake, some just for a quick swim, one or two to actually try and get clean with the soap Frank had given you. Joel builds a fire every night, and every morning, you’ve swept the perimeter around the clearing, checking for stray Infected, any signs of people. The gun from Bill, Joel’s knife, and your bat haven’t strayed far from your makeshift bed at night, either.

On the fourth evening, Joel mentions that you should start to head back, reminding you that the plan was to head back to Lincoln before Boston. You’re sad to leave the cabin, but then Joel suggests that you make it an annual thing.

“Like, an anniversary trip,” he says, his cheeks turning pink. You cup one in your palm, lips quirking at how warm it is. “I know it’s not a five-star resort or anything, but—”

You silence him with a kiss. “It might as well be. It’s our place, no one else’s.”

His grin matches yours, another kiss shared. “It’s ours.”

Your final night is spent the same way as the rest, both of you stark naked on piles of sleeping bags and blankets, wrapped up in each other in every sense of the word. At first, you were surprised — nearly anytime you have sex in Boston, it’s in some various state of undress, but never completely bare, always just a few movements away from fully clothed again, in case you have to make a break for it. It took a moment for you to realize that Joel felt safe out here, that he felt like he could bare himself completely to you, and you did the same.

Your final morning wakes you with the birds, the sun pouring through the cabin’s small windows, painting the wood floor with bright yellow light. Joel breathes heavily against the back of your neck, his arm tight around your waist, and you disentangle slowly, stealing one of the lighter blankets to wrap yourself in as you get up in search of the camping coffee pot Bill had supplied for the trip.

Your body aches a bit as you move, no doubt a combination of sleeping on the floor and the vigorous sex you’ve participated in. It’s a good ache, but you wouldn’t be surprised if you had bruises on your ass and/or hips, both from Joel’s hands and mouth and the hard floor.

You’re halfway through fixing the coffee when movement outside the window catches your attention, just out of the corner of your eye. You freeze, eyes darting back to the bed, where the gun, bat, and knife all lay, ripe for the taking. Slowly, you inch towards the window, turning your head slowly.

It’s a deer.

Right at the edge of the water, not ten feet away from the space you’ve built a fire each night. It’s a pretty animal, all long limbs and speckled brown coat. As you watch, dumbfounded, it lowers its head to the water, a long pink tongue darting out to drink.

You’re not totally sure what makes you do it, but you reach for the door. As quietly as you can, you open it just enough that you can step out of the cabin, the blanket still wrapped tightly around you. You step out, your feet light on the wooden porch, and you try to stay as silent as possible, your eyes glued to the creature before you.

The dirt is soft beneath your feet as you step off the porch, the grass wet with dew as you take a slow step forward. You’re holding your breath, an iron grip on the blanket as you take another step, then another. Still, the deer doesn’t seem to notice you.

It’s not until you’re maybe three feet from the animal that it stops drinking, and slowly, its head raises. Not quickly, no alarm in the movement. Instead, it turns to look at you, and you’re frozen in place by those big doe eyes, ridiculously long lashes blinking at you as it licks its snout.

Carefully, fingers almost twitching in the air, you reach out. The deer’s head flicks between your hand and your face, but still, it doesn’t bolt. It even sniffs at your hand as it gets closer and closer until—

“Baby?” Joel’s raspy voice calls, and the deer stiffens, instinct taking over, and in a flash, it’s gone, a slight ripple in the water the only indication it was even there. You turn on your heel to see Joel standing in the doorway, his jeans only half done up, belt hanging open. He’s rubbing sleep from his eyes, his hair standing up in every direction, and it’s so endearing you don’t have the energy to be mad. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” you reply, walking back to the cabin, leaning up on your toes to kiss him good morning. “Nothing at all.”

“You know, there are lots of houses on this block,” Frank says, nudging your hip with his. “We could clean one up for you two, make it nice, make it your own. You don’t have to go back to Boston.”

“Bill wouldn’t agree with you,” you say, shaking your head slightly, though your chest warms with the sentiment. “That’s not good resource management.”

“He’s never gonna live that one down, is he?”

“I still don’t know how you got him to agree to a wedding.”

“It was a dress and some wood that was just laying around anyway, and I swear to god, he needed to cook that roast, because if I heard one more word about dry-aged beef, I was about to run through a goddamn tripwire.”

You stifle a laugh, setting down the wheelbarrow. You’ve reached the side garden, the one filled with all manner of veggies, and you timed your return to Lincoln well: it’s harvest time.

In a not-so-shocking twist, Bill and Joel are off fixing something or another, though you had also heard Bill mention parked cars along one of the fence lines, and Joel’s curiosity had piqued. You and Frank were left to your own devices, and you’re always more than happy to help him with whatever chores need doing before you sit down for coffee or wine and a good chat.

It’s not a clean job by any stretch. A few minutes in and you’re already caked in dirt, feeling it beneath your fingernails. The wheelbarrow fills quickly, and you’ve been at it maybe half an hour when Frank sinks back on his elbows, breathing heavily as you dump a handful of potatoes into the wheelbarrow.

“Hey,” you call, your brow pinching. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, unconvincingly, reaching up to wipe his forehead with the back of his hand. “Just tired, I dunno. Been a long day.”

Your brow stays furrowed and you tap his knee. “Well, take a minute. I can finish this.”

He starts to protest, but you shoot him a look that silences him.

“You still running?” you ask, trying to make it sound like you’re just making conversation.

“Every other day,” he replies, still sounding out of breath. “The heat gets to me a little easier these days.”

You just nod, pulling a handful of carrots from the dirt. “Promise me something?”

When he doesn’t reply right away, you turn and look at him, and find him staring intently back at you. “Anything, Liv.”

“If something is wrong,” you say, almost slowly, picking your words carefully, “if you need help, promise me you’ll ask. Promise me you’ll let us help you. I know Bill does his best, but there are some things you don’t have access to here, things I could find for you, if you needed them.”

“You mean medicine.”

“I mean anything,” you press. “I just…promise me, Frank, please.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes go shiny, and he reaches out, covers your dirt-streaked hand with his. “I promise.”

The day slips away from you all, and you decide to spend a night in Lincoln. The spare bedroom is yours once again, Bill cooks a delicious dinner that’s beyond anything you could ever imagine, even before the outbreak. Frank laughs when you say as much. “How do you think I feel? He cooks like this every night, almost.”

Joel cracks a smile. “Maybe we should move here.”

After dinner, you have a quiet night in the living room. Joel ‘rests his eyes’ on the couch, Bill reads a book, and you and Frank play card games until you’re too tired to keep telling each other to go fish. You all say your goodnights, and you have to half-carry Joel up the stairs to the spare room. You’re just as exhausted, between the trip back from the cabin to Lincoln and your newfound worry for Frank, you just want to sleep it off. Joel notices the dip between your brows, smooths his thumb over it first, then his lips.

“Tell me, baby,” he yawns.

“Maybe tomorrow,” you reply, yawning yourself. “Just wanna sleep.”

He nods, giving you a soft peck, and you both climb beneath the blankets, silently thankful for a soft mattress instead of a hard floor, but grateful all the same for the love Joel’s shown you over the last few days. “Goodnight, Joel.”

“Goodnight, baby.”

He wakes to the sound of gunfire.

He was dreaming. Not a nightmare, a dream, but the sound of gunfire and shouting sends him flying out of bed in a moment, putting himself between you and whatever’s attacking. His knife was under his pillow, now gripped tightly in his hand, and he reaches for you, his eyes glued to the window, the orange haze of fire outside making everything in him twist with fear.

You haven’t woken up, though your eyes are screwed tightly shut, grumbling quietly as you curl your fingers in your pillow. There’s more shouting outside, and Joel recognizes Bill’s voice. “Liv, baby, wake up,” he tells you, grabbing your shoulder, shaking you slightly. “I think it’s raiders.”

More flames flicker outside the window, the rumble of an explosion, and your eyes flash open in an instant, something wild in them as you reach for your bat, where it was leaned against the wall on your side of the bed. “Joel?” Your voice is still laced with sleep, though your body is instantly in fight mode.

Joel heads for the window, grabbing his gun off the dresser as he goes, keeping to the wall as he peers outside. “Go find Frank,” he tells you, nodding to you as you move to his side, your bat in one hand, the other pressed to his waist. “Go. I’m right behind you, I’m gonna go help Bill.”

You nod, turning on your heel, shouting Frank’s name as you head out of the spare room, Joel following close behind. As you step out of the spare room, Frank is barreling out of the master bedroom, shouting for Bill, his eyes frantic as he all but sprints down the stairs.

“Frank, wait!” you shout, following him down and towards the dining room, the hutch that’s tucked in the corner. Bullets zip past the house outside, and Joel pushes between your shoulder blades, making you crouch, watching as you reach for Frank and make him do the same.

“T-there’s a gun in the drawer,” Frank says shakily, scrambling for the handles on the hutch.

“Stay inside,” Joel says to you, cocking the gun and yanking open the front door. You nod and Joel walks out into the rain.

It’s chaos. The rain soaks him to the bone immediately, gunshots making his ears ring. Bill stands in the middle of the road, shotgun cocked at his shoulder, firing past the fence at the raiders beyond. The men shout as they fall, patches of fire sprouting everywhere Joel looks. He doesn’t think twice, he just jumps right into it, lifting his gun and taking aim.

As he nears where Bill is standing, the older man gives him a look that he could almost mistake for gratitude.

“Frank, wait!” he hears you shout, and both he and Bill turn as Frank steps off the porch, shouting Bill’s name.

“Get back inside!” Bill yells, his gun lowered just for a moment. “Get in—” The words turn to a grunt of pain as one of the raiders’ bullets finds a home in his stomach. Joel turns back to the attackers, taking aim and pulling the trigger, dropping the man that fired on Bill.

Frank sprints forward, and you’re close behind, a gun in hand, moving up to Joel’s right side and taking aim just as he had. Another two drop, and he can hear Bill’s shouting protests, Frank’s shockingly calm voice. “We gotta get you inside.”

“No, no! No!”

“Bill, inside, now! Hold onto me.”

“We’ll finish this,” Joel shouts in Frank’s direction, seeing the two men moving back towards the house. “Get inside.”

Impossibly, more flames ignite, more of Bill’s traps set off, and you and Joel both stumble back in surprise, the sight before you nearly bright as daylight for a fraction of a second. One of the raiders shoots, the bullet clips Joel’s shoulder, and you put a bullet in the shooter’s head a moment later.

“Fuck!” he shouts, instantly gritting his teeth, eyes searching the flames for more targets. “Liv, get inside.”

“He just fucking shot you!” you start, your voice climbing above the noise. “Are you out of your fu—”

“It’s a graze,” he shouts back at you, both your expressions wild and fierce. “I’ll live. Bill needs help. Go help him.”

You stare into the flames a moment longer, and Joel knows you’re looking to see if any more raiders are coming through. After a beat, you turn on your heel and disappear into the house.

Nearly three hours later, and your footsteps on the stair make Joel jump to his feet. He’s been sitting in the living room, a wet rag pressed to his shoulder. There’s blood streaked on your cheek, and you rub at your face as you step through the doorway.

“And?”

“He’ll live,” you say, sighing heavily, stepping past him and sinking into the couch, tipping your head back. “Fuckin’ lucky Deanna taught me what she did.”

Joel sets the rag on the table and moves to sit beside you, putting his hand on your knee. “How’s Frank?”

“Asleep,” you answer, “for now. Worried as all hell, not that I blame him.” You roll your head towards him, still leaned on the back of the couch. “Shoulder?”

He shakes his head. “Bleeding already stopped. I’ll be fine.”

“Are we safe, Joel?” you ask, your voice cracking, and Joel’s chest aches. “Are there any more out there?”

“No, baby, they’re gone,” he responds, and reaches for your hand, tugging at you until you’re nestled against him, wrapped in his arms. His shoulder twinges with pain as he moves, but he doesn’t care. “We’re safe, I promise.”

You stay a few more days, to make sure Bill is okay. Of course, the bunker is well-stocked with first aid supplies, and you show Frank how to change the bandages, the basics. His hands shake a bit, but it’s doable, and he’s grateful.

Sneaking back into Boston proves harder than usual. You take the subway route back into the city, the tunnel that leads into one of the buildings near the edge of the QZ. A building you had no idea had been converted into a Firefly hideout.

Marlene’s standing on the other side of the door when you yank it open, and all you can do is stare at each other, hands wandering towards weapons, but you’re the first to speak. “We were never here,” you say, almost quickly. “This doesn’t need to be a firefight.”

Joel is stoic and silent at your side, and when Marlene gives a slight nod, you take his hand, pull him down the hallway, out of the building.

Tess is pacing your apartment when you unlock the door. You can see her visibly sag with relief when she sees you both walk through the door, instantly crossing the kitchen to hug you tightly. “Jesus Christ, I’ve been fucking worried. I was expecting you back sooner.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, rubbing her back. “We should have radioed. There were raiders in Lincoln, Bill got hurt, and we stayed a few extra days to make sure he was okay.” You glance at Joel, who’s sunk into one of the kitchen chairs, rubbing at the back of his neck. “And we ran into Marlene coming back in.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you’re forgiven, then,” she says, stepping away from you, shoving her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “And I talked to Tommy, like you asked, Joel. He was worried, too.”

Joel nods. “I’ll go down to the radio first thing tomorrow. You didn’t have any trouble covering for us?”

Tess shakes her head as you move to stand behind Joel, both hands on his shoulders. “McCoy helped. Told people you’d caught some nasty bug if they asked where you were, not that many did. Lots of other noise on the radio, though; our friends in Providence were driven out. I told them to come here but I haven’t heard anything. No other good news, either. Robert’s been causing rifts anywhere he can, stupid fuck. Half the people we usually trade with inside the QZ have started going to him instead.”

Joel goes tense under your hands. “Motherfucker.”

Tess shoots you a look. “He took advantage, while you two were gone. I managed to convince a few people he’s full of shit, but you’ll probably have more luck than me, Liv. People know you, they trust you.”

“Clearly not enough if they’re that quick to go to Robert,” Joel rumbles, and you squeeze his shoulders. “We were gone for five days.”

“Everyone’s just trying to survive,” you say quietly, moving one hand up to his head, dragging your fingers through his hair. “We’ll just have to wait and see, I guess.”

They both just nod.

Wait and see you do. But time is not kind. Or understanding. It cuts like a damn knife.

Your plan to travel to the cabin for your anniversary works for a few years. Always coupled with a stop in Lincoln both on your way there and your way back to Boston. You don’t stay as long as you want to — you can only use the violent illness excuse so many times before people (namely FEDRA) start getting suspicious — and while you and Joel have considered Frank’s offer to move to the small town more than once, something always manages to get in the way.

You didn’t think FEDRA could get any worse. You thought maybe you could give them the benefit of the doubt, that a decade after the outbreak, life would return to maybe some semblance of normal.

But it doesn’t.

They crack down on everything. It gets harder and harder for you to leave the QZ, and most of the soldiers you’ve created trading relationships with either end up dead or relocated. Then they stop letting soldiers leave Boston, after the Fireflies blow up a third convoy headed for Albany.

McCoy is still around, so at least you have one man on the inside, but the punishments for breaking FEDRA’s laws get more and more severe, both for civilians and soldiers, and you don’t want to put him — or more importantly, yourselves — at risk.

For a good few years, you don’t leave the QZ. You take whatever jobs you can, stack your ration cards, live off what you have tucked away already. You keep it up at the radio for a time — mainly to keep in touch with Bill and Frank — but after FEDRA posts a soldier in the radio room with Abe, you make yourself scarce.

Abe passes messages to Tommy for you. He doesn’t last long with the Fireflies, and his messages start coming from different states, different QZs, different outposts. It makes Joel nervous.

You still trade with people, mainly stuff you already had stashed, or things that are brought into the QZ. FEDRA at least has the decency to keep people fed, for the most part.

Robert doesn’t let up, and Joel goes after the fucker more than once, with only you to hold him back. Fucking attack dog, Robert calls him, and Joel breaks his nose a second time. Fucking backstabbing bitch, he calls you after you drop an anonymous tip to FEDRA about one of Robert’s planned drops, and Joel breaks his nose a third time. It’s not a betrayal when you’re not partners, you’re quick to remind him, but his guys haul him off before Joel can get another punch in.

Frank keeps to his promise. When things start to get bad, he asks you for help, and you’re damn glad he does. He sends messages on the portable radio Bill had given you when you stop working the radio room. He lists his symptoms, tells you what he’s been going through, and you make a list.

One of the doctors in the clinic, Dr. Norton, has always been helpful. Deanna had been her favourite nurse, and nobody in Boston knows you’re the real reason she and the kids split, so it’s easier to keep up appearances. When you bring her the list of Frank’s symptoms, she gives you the best diagnosis she can without having the patient in front of her, and gives you another list. Medications that will help, that will keep him going longer.

Medications that the Boston QZ pharmacy does not have.

It’s the first run you’ve done in a long time. Joel doesn’t hesitate to follow, and Tess is quick to agree as well. All you have are rumours — Norton told you about a missing shipment of medication that was looted somewhere between the New York QZ and Boston a few months prior. It’s not a narrow trail, but she tells you FEDRA lost contact with the drivers somewhere new Hartford, so you start there.

Sure enough, you find the FEDRA truck on its side outside a field hospital that’s clearly been abandoned a long time. Joel seems even more on edge as you make your way through the half-destroyed tents and blood-stained, overturned cots. You stick to his right side, just like always.

The field hospital is set up outside an old dental office. The truck was empty, and you’re quick to head inside, hoping and praying that the looters took stuff inside, instead of leaving it to the mercy of the elements.

It’s the first time you encounter a Clicker.

FEDRA hasn’t exactly been forthcoming with the information they have on cordyceps, what steps they’ve made — if any — to find a cure. The Fireflies are the same, and since Tommy’s suggestion when he found out you were immune, you haven’t heard a peep from the rebels. Besides, of course, the gunfire and occasional explosions in the QZ. They haven’t let up with that.

You know the Infected are evolving. The infection is…changing, over time. There are stages to it, each more terrifying than the last.

But Clickers…those are a beast unto themselves.

You set one foot into the dental office, and you hear the noise. The screech. Not unlike the ‘regular’ shouts of Infected, but slightly different, and then shortly after, the clicking, the tapping noises that make the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

Joel grabs for you just as you turn the corner, finding the bodies of the looters, the ones that had clearly taken the medicine out of the truck. It’s stacked in boxes along one wall of the office you’ve entered, and the floor is a pool of blood.

They’ve been ripped apart. There’s not enough of them left to come back. Bile creeps up your throat at the sight, and then you hear the clicking again, sparks of fear shooting down your spine as you step back into Joel. Tess’s flashlight sweeps through the hall, and then you see it.

It’s more awful than you could have imagined. The infection has always been grotesque; you still feel that shiver whenever you see the bite on your side, the spidery lines that spread from it. But what stands before you in the hallway, it’s something else entirely.

It’s all fungus. There’s no face, just a gaping jaw that’s split in the middle, letting more of the infection break through. No eyes, no nose, just that screaming mouth.

“It can’t see,” you say, the words just above the whisper. “How can it—”

It screeches, turns its awful body in your direction. Joel grabs you from behind, clamps his hand over your mouth and drags you into the room where the looters are. Tess follows suit, swinging the door shut, closing it as quietly as she can.

You tap Joel’s hand, signalling him to release you, though you don’t move far from him. You gesture towards the boxes of medicine, looking between him and Tess. “Get what we came for,” you mouth to them, “and get the fuck out.”

You find every medicine on Norton’s list. You stuff every bottle you can into your bag, desperation and fear making you move faster as the awful clicking continues. Joel helps, Tess stands guard, but you’re all too preoccupied to notice one of the looters twitching back to life.

It lunges for Joel, and you scramble for your bat, swinging as Joel ducks out of the way. A moment later, a gunshot sounds, Tess’s shot finding the looter’s now completely dead brain. The Clicker screams again, and the door bursts open.

There are three of them.

You swing at the only window in the room. They’ve found you now, no use in being quiet. Joel drops one of them, and you wail on a second, while Tess aims for the third. Her second shot isn’t as good as her first, and the Clicker lunges for her. The bat connects with the thing’s ear when you swing at it, and it wails. You swing again and again and again, until Joel has to grab your shoulder, pull you backwards. The bat drips more blood onto the already bloody floor.

“It’s done, baby. It’s over.”

You get to Lincoln by nightfall. The three of you shaken, stained with blood — you’re quick to reassure Frank that none of it is your own — but you have the medicine. Frank is tearful as you sort through it with him, relay the instructions Norton had given you to pass onto him, the dosages and how often to take them.

Bill finds out sitting outside on the front porch later that night, after everyone has gone to bed. You tried to sleep, Joel passing out much quicker than you, but your whole body felt restless, so you’d snuck out of your husband’s arms, crept down the stairs and outside.

The older man grunted as he sat down beside you on the concrete steps. You didn’t say anything at first, your head tilted back, glued to the stars above. There’s less light pollution in Lincoln, the stars more visible, and the sky has gotten clearer since the outbreak, no planes or factories mugging up the atmosphere. The moon hangs brightly, illuminating the street in front of you.

Bill’s the first to break the silence. “I can’t ever repay you, for what you did, Olivia,” he says, his voice low and slow. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I did,” you answer almost instantly, still staring up at the stars. You’re reminded of humid nights in Austin, sprawled in the back of Joel’s truck, way back before everything. “Of course, I did.”

“You’re a good person,” he tells you, and you swallow around the lump in your throat. “I hope you know that.”

If he sees the tears on your face, he doesn’t say anything. Bill just sits there, reaches up and puts his arm around your shoulders. You can’t tell him the reason, why you’re crying, why your mind is such a mess. One thing after another, it all keeps stacking up, another weight on your shoulders.

Could you have fixed it all, if you had turned yourself in?

Could you still?

The meds you found help Frank, make things more manageable. Bill has lots of medical equipment stashed away, and he assures you constantly that they’ll be fine. They keep up the songs, sixties playing more often than not, but it’s an indication that everything is okay in Lincoln. It eases your worry some.

It gets even worse, trying to sneak out, to the point where it’s not worth the risk. When FEDRA sets up gallows wide enough to hang three people at once, you don’t think you’ll ever leave again.

Frank offers for you to come to Lincoln again. You and Joel consider it more seriously, even manage to get Tess to agree to talk it over with Robin, when Frank offers them a place as well. It feels like a good plan, a safe plan, one that would have you closer to all the people that matter — the ones that are still around, anyway.

Robin doesn’t like it. She and Tess fight, and it ends with them ending things completely. Robin moves out, and a few weeks later, she joins FEDRA. Tess is, understandably, a mess, and you drink her sorrows away with her, unable to not feel at least partially responsible.

“She said it was the last straw,” Tess tells you, her words slurred as you sit at the kitchen table. Joel’s long asleep, and your bottle of whiskey is almost empty. It’s the last one. “She knew what we were doing the whole time, the sneaking out, the runs, all of it. Said I’m a shit liar.”

“You’re not a shit liar.”

“I know I’m not a shit liar.” Tess refills her glass. “She said…she said if we try to go, she’ll come after us, and they’ll drag us all back to Boston, Bill and Frank too. She’s not who I thought she was, Liv. I fucked this up.”

“You didn’t fuck it up,” you tell her, reaching out and covering her hand with yours. “You couldn’t have seen this coming.”

“Now we can’t leave.”

“I know,” you say, ignoring the way your gut twists with disappointment. “It’ll be fine. We’ll make it work, we’ll…” You trail off, whiskey buzzing in your brain, eyes moving to Joel’s sleeping figure on the bed. “We’ll be okay.”

AFTER

2023

Tommy’s stopped answering.

You’ve gone to Abe’s every day, like clockwork; first thing when morning curfew is passed, last thing before you head back to the apartments at the end of the day. Joel’s worried, you’re worried, Tess is worried.

Joel starts planning. Last you heard, Tommy was in Wyoming; a far enough trek as it is, but it’s a big fucking state, and you don’t know where in Wyoming. Your maps are pulled out from where they’ve been stashed — for years, at this point. Joel pours over them while your pour healthy glasses of hooch for you both. You’re starting to suspect there is no good liquor left in the world, not anywhere close to Boston, and definitely not within the walls of the QZ.

It’s been nearly two years now, since you were able to make a run out of the city completely. You’ve had drops within the city limits, some within the QZ itself, and lately, FEDRA’s been too preoccupied with the Fireflies to really notice the three of you. It’s a blessing and a curse.

You’ve been stockpiling, since Joel started planning. Nearly three weeks without a word from Tommy, and you’re just as on edge as he is. You need to get out of Boston, find Tommy. It’ll be a far trip to Wyoming, the farthest you’ve ever gone, the farthest Joel’s gone since he arrived in Boston, same for Tess. But you can see it on Joel’s face with every day that passes: you need to find Tommy.

Maybe then you could finally go to Lincoln. It’s been long enough now, since Tess and Robin had their blowup. Last you had heard, or last Tess had told you, Robin was having second thoughts about her choice in career after she’d been reassigned to the school in the QZ. Too little, too late, but maybe it means she’d let you off, wouldn’t send FEDRA after you.

It’s a chance you think you have to take. The songs have still come through from Lincoln, always sixties, always that little confirmation that everything is okay. You still hold your breath every time the radio comes on.

Joel decides walking to Wyoming will take too long, which you and Tess both agree to, so the hunt for a usable vehicle begins. You still have some contacts hanging around, and while McCoy has been retired a few years now, the soldier that took over his posts, Lee Evans, is just as…malleable. It only takes a few bribes in the shape of pills to get him to make a deal to get you a working truck. Tess is tasked with finding a car battery — Joel’s adamant you have a backup plan — and you have to find the best way out of the QZ.

“Olivia Miller.”

The bark of your name makes you wince. You spit blood onto the concrete floor, reaching for the cell bars to haul yourself up to your feet. It’s been a long time since you were in lock-up, but your current two-day stint has definitely left a mark.

Angie still runs things, and while she wasn’t the one to deliver the beating you received this time, she definitely gave the order. Fucking bitch.

Nothing’s broken, and you’re definitely not in as bad shape as you were when she was done with you the last time you were in lock-up. Your lip is split, your cheekbone bruised, and you’re fucking starving, but still, better than last time.

Thankfully it’s not Angie that grabs you by the arm as you step out of the cell, or the tall guard who had given you the fat lip. Some of the other people in lock-up shoot you looks as you’re led towards the front of the building. Some you recognize, others you don’t. There haven’t been many new faces in Boston for a long time, but there are still some people you haven’t crossed paths with.

Joel’s standing at the front, in the doorway that leads to outside. The guard gripping your arm all but throws you from the cellblock, and Joel reaches for you as you stumble towards him.

“You okay?” he grunts, putting his arm around your shoulders, tucking you against his side as he leads you out.

“Long two days,” you reply, covering your eyes as you step out into the daylight. “What’d I miss?”

Joel reaches into his pocket, produces a decent-sized stack of ration cards. “Evans came through, mostly. Says the truck is in bad shape, so we’ll definitely need the battery. Also said FEDRA’s shook up, we should keep an eye out the next couple days.”

“And Tess?”

“Should be home when we get there,” he replies, and you shove the stack of cards in your pocket. “Supposedly she struck a deal with Robert, said she feels good about it.”

“That’s a fucking stretch. And Tommy?”

“Abe had nothing,” Joel says, and you can see the pain in his face as he says it. “Kept tryin’ to convince me that Tommy’s just fine, load of shit.”

“Tommy’s capable, Joel,” you try to remind him, but then he pulls out one of your maps, folded in half, something circled amidst the state lines. “What…?”

“Cody Tower,” Joel answers, “that’s where we’re going. That’s where we start.”

Once you’re home, Joel opens the door, ushers you in, closes it behind you. It’s then that he reaches for you, his hands finding homes along your neck and jaw. He inspects you closely, fingers light across your swollen lip, your bruised cheek. “They weren’t too rough on you?” he asks, leaning in to kiss your uninjured cheek, sighing against you.

You wrap your arms around his waist, leaning into him. “Nothing I can’t handle,” you say, but wince when he presses even a soft kiss against your mouth. “Just don’t heal as quick as I used to.”

“Go sit down,” he tells you, another kiss to your temple. “I’ll get you somethin’ to help.”

With a nod, you sink down in one of the kitchen chairs. Joel crosses to the bedroom, moves the wardrobe from its place against the wall, sinks down to pull out the loose floorboards you’ve used to hide your stash forever. You watch for a moment, watch him pull out a small hand-axe, a crowbar, his gun, knives belonging to you both, your bat. Boxes of ammunition, plastic bags filled with jewellery, smaller baggies of pills, and finally, your notebook and collection of maps.

You get up again, fish two glasses out of the cupboard, along with the bottle of hooch, before returning to the table. Joel spreads the maps out, starts finding the path from Boston to Cody. He tosses back when you’ve poured him, wincing as he swallows. “It’s a long fuckin’ trek, Liv.” He rubs his hand across his mouth. “We’ve never gone this far.”

“Not together,” you answer, finishing your own glass. It burns, but your face aches too much for you to care. “But it’s doable. It has to be.”

Joel reaches into the pocket of his shirt, produces a small plastic bag with four split pills inside. He pours them into his palm, divvies them up between you.

“Back?” you ask, jutting your chin towards him. “Or your head?”

“Always my fuckin’ back,” he answers, and refills both your glasses. You don’t say anything else, tossing the pills back and chasing them with the hooch. It burns even more, but as you sink back, the ache in your cheek lessens just a touch. “So the warehouse is out.”

You nod, reaching for the bottle again. “You’re fucking right it is.” Two days prior, you’d been scoping out the route you used to take through one of the old warehouses on the edge of the QZ. Soldiers had caught you snooping around, and thus you earned your stint in lock-up. “We have to be careful with this, Joel. More careful than we’ve been.”

His brow furrows as he looks at you, refilling his glass. This has become a norm, lately; drinking your pain away, popping pills to forget about the aches in your aging bodies. Textbook coping mechanisms. “You heard something in lock-up?”

You nod again, emptying your glass a final time. “I didn’t think FEDRA could get any fucking worse, but they’re changing the punishment for getting caught out after curfew. I heard a bunch of soldiers talking about it. It’s not just an execution anymore.” You swallow hard, push your hand through your hair. “They’re shooting people on sight.”

“Jesus Christ,” Joel grumbles, and shoves his hand through his hair. It’s gotten greyer, over the years, and somehow has just made him more handsome. You reach for his other hand, lacing your fingers through his.

“Joel,” you say slowly, biting your lip and then licking the blood that springs forth. “Baby, if we’re gonna do this, if we’re gonna go to fucking Wyoming, then I—”

“You wanna got to Lincoln first.” Joel gets up, grabs a rag from the kitchen and wets it with some of the hooch. “Let me see your face.”

You turn towards him a little reluctantly, wincing at the pain that spikes when he wipes at your busted lip. “Ouch.”

The corner of his lip quirks. It’s not something you see often, these days. “Well, I’d kiss it better if it wouldn’t hurt you more.” He puts the rag down after a moment, leans back in his chair and tosses back the rest of his glass. “Lincoln.”

You nod. “They’re getting old, Joel. We’re getting old, but them…It’s been a long damn time since we brought them meds. I know the last drop was more than enough for a while, but…what if something happens? Sure, we have the radio, but what if the next time the eighties plays, we can’t get out of Boston quick enough to help them?”

Slowly, Joel leans forward, brushes a stray lock of hair from your face. “Okay, we’ll go. First stop out of the QZ, then we head for Wyoming.”

Split lip and aching joints be damned, you reach forward and grab the front of his shirt, pulling him against him, your mouth finding his in a hooch-stained kiss. Joel grunts at the movement, lets you move him where you want him before he’s getting to his feet, taking control, leading you back toward the bed.

“Lip still hurt?”

“Not when you’re kissing me like that, Miller. Get back here.”

Joel still has nightmares.

He knows, by now, that they won’t ever leave him. Knows they’re just a part of him, something he can try and chase off with booze and pills and burying himself in you, but they always come back. Always.

He wakes with a start, someone banging on the door. Tess, he wonders idly. He must have shifted in the night, curled on his left side, his bad ear up. It’s a bad habit, one he’s been trying to stop himself from doing, but then he feels your arm slung around his middle, a weight on his ribs, your palm flattened against his chest, and the tightness beneath your hand eases, his heart rate sinking into a more regular pace.

You have your nose buried in the back of his neck, and he feels your hot breath across his ear before you’re rolling away from him, the warmth of you gone, getting to your feet to answer the door. “M’coming,” you call, your voice still laced with sleep. “What fuckin’ time is…Jesus Christ.”

The tone in your voice has Joel nearly leaping out of bed, the thumping in his head from all the hooch you drank last night nearly sending him sprawling back the moment he’s upright. You’re standing at the front door, the thing open in front of you, and Tess stands in the doorway, her eye so beaten Joel can see it from where he’s standing, even through the haze of sleep. It’s not her only injury, either; her cheeks are dotted with little scrapes, and her lip looks worse than yours.

“I got jumped,” she says by way of greeting, and you step aside to let her in, shutting the door behind her, “by a couple guys.”

Joel sees your brow raise, clearly unconvinced. He steps towards the kitchen as you grab a clean rag out from under the kitchen sink. “Sit down,” you tell her, waving towards the table. Joel puts a hand on your hip as he steps around you to find the instant coffee, holding it towards you in question. “Please.” You peck his cheek before heading over to Tess, taking the seat beside her, your hands moving to her face. “What guys?”

“Just a couple teenagers,” she tells you, wincing as you turn her head to the side, inspecting her face. The bottle of hooch is still on the table from last night, and you shoot Joel a look before reaching for it, wetting the rag with it. Been a long time since you had clean gauze. Tess keeps going. “Said some shit, probably shouldn’t’ve. You know, these guys born after the outbreak. They never learned how to argue, they just start swingin’. Fuckin’ nineteen-year-old pieces of shit.”

You still don’t look convinced. “Remember when I told you you’re not a shit liar?” you ask, and Tess glances at Joel before she nods. “Yeah, I take it back.”

“It’s a miracle you’re alive,” Joel calls, spooning coffee grounds into three mugs. “You should have—”

“It’s a miracle any of us are alive,” Tess replies, and Joel tries not to bristle.

You continue your inspection, dabbing at her lip. “These aren’t new, Tess.”

“No,” she replies with another little wince. “I was in lock-up all day yesterday. They had the decency to give me your cell.”

“How kind of them.”

Tess smiles, but it just earns her another wince.

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” she says, and her eyes wander back to Joel. “There’s something you two need to hear.”

Joel’s shoulders go tight as he steps towards the table, crossing his arms over his chest. “What?”

“Take a breath, Joel,” she says, before turning her gaze back to you. “The guys who jumped me were with Robert.”

Your chest rises with your sharp inhale. “I fucking knew it.”

She looks between the two of you again. “He sold the battery to someone else.”

Joel’s heart sinks into his toes. It was the first lead any of you had had on a car battery since Tommy had first stopped responding and you agreed to this plan. The fact that it was Robert had already made him uneasy, but hearing it said out loud is another thing. He puts a hand over his face, feels you reach for him, curling your hand around his hip.

“Nothing’s lost,” Tess says quickly, “shit like this was bound to happen. We just have to shake it off, and we go get our cards back, or the battery.”

Your hand drops. “You paid him for it?”

“It was the only deal he would make,” she answers, but Joel can hear the waver in her voice, that she knows she fucked up. “Like I said, we go get the cards, or the battery, or—”

“No or,” Joel says, trying not to let his voice climb. “We need the battery, Tess. Truck’s no good without one, and if we don’t get to Tommy soon, he’s gonna die out there.”

You heave a sigh as Joel pulls away, heading for the stash beneath the wardrobe. His ears are ringing, anger riling in his gut. Behind him, he hears you both keep talking.

“Okay, fuck it,” Tess says, banging her hand on the table. “We get our cards back and the battery. Joel, wait, just—”

He busies himself with pulling the weapons out of the stash. Crowbar, bat, axe, gun. He’s broken that fucker’s nose three times now, maybe it’s time he put him down for good.

Tess keeps talking. “Liv, Robert is terrified of Joel. If he marches outta here all Clint Eastwood, one of his guys is gonna tell him and he’s gonna disappear, and he’ll take the fucking battery with him. Liv, please—”

“Who’d he sell it to?” you ask, your voice so low Joel barely hears it.

“Don’t know.”

“Where is he?”

“Don’t know that either,” Tess answers. “Yet.”

Joel hears the scrape of a chair, and feels your presence behind him a moment later. “Baby, stop.”

He pauses. “We have to go find Tommy, Liv,” he says, reaching for his gun. “What about Lincoln, huh? Bill and Frank?”

“Joel,” you say again, crouching down beside him, “stop. Take a breath.” His hand reaches towards the floorboards again, and yours flashes out, grabs his wrist. “Joel.”

He stops. “We have to go.”

“I know,” you answer, wrapping both hands around his wrist now. “I know we do. And we’re gonna. Which is why we need to do this quietly. Look at me.”

Slowly but surely, he turns his head towards you.

“Tess is right; Robert is terrified of you. So let’s go hunt that motherfucker down, and you can show him just how much of an attack dog you really are, hmm? Then we get the battery, we get the truck, and we go find Tommy. All right?”

He swallows hard as he stares at you, breathing through the anger twisting his gut. “All right.”

You swipe your knife up off the ground, and Joel tucks his gun into the waistband of his pants.

“Let’s go.”

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#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of uis #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers #joel miller x oc #joel miller x liv stone

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longhands-the-second · 10 months

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Trimax vol. 3 notes

UGH UGH UGH

This cover is so sexy. The colors make my brain go brrr

I read and typed this the night before, oops. I needed something to make me less bored and sad and by god I got it. (<- has so much homework he doesn’t even want to look at it)

1- Based on what i’ve seen of future installments there’s a trend in the particular kind of body horror nightow likes to draw huh

The color of blood? Literally blood? I wasn’t sure if he was actually crying blood in the previous volume or not or if the tears were just darker bc art shit. I think his vibes are like that of a bird of prey. If that’s what we’re getting at here? (At least this version of him is. Stampede is a different beast. Somehow both cuttlefish and like, crow? I’m still yelling about the stampede finale-)

Does having high bullshit tolerance make you less human somehow…? What’s the logic here?

Is wolfwood saying that to him directly? Fucked up if so. He does NOT need more piled on him right now

2- im just flashing back to 98 wolfwood saying he’s never fired a gun before-

Does gray have the same sort of top that Vash had? The almost-tubing on the sides? Or is that just a favorite design thing?

That was pretty much all just fight scene huh.

3- EW EW EW

god, it’s only just now hitting that these are the faces of people he knew. People he cared about. Christ.

:( i want to get off of mr bones wild ride

I’m not like. Gagging or anything i just hate it.

The thing about Vash being quiet angry is that it’s almost got this elegance to it. Like his mind has left his body and he’s just running on his experience and skill now. He’s pissed and he’s dissociating. I feel like the whole room gets icy when he’s like that, even if you’re outside in the suns.

NO OH NO GOD-

FUCK I KNEW THAT WAS GONNA HAPPEN AND I STILL WASNT READY

4- does. Does he know him???

Oh hell.

He set off the sprinklers???

WET HAIR VASH

5- brad is much more of a character than i was expecting.

God i can just hear wolfwood in that moment

Well. Yikes.

HAHAHSJSJJS milly jumpscare

6- what the fuck that piano is so cool

Seeing vash with both arms feels illegal somehow

Or no, does it have some kind of cover on it? Or is that what it looks like below those gloves?

He is SOOOO not okay right now

Woah damn is that what luida looks like here?

Im sure he’s just beyond relieved to see people lived.

Oh wow. Im… proud of him for admitting it? Something like that? God he looks so tired

“Woah vash you’re fucking ancient aren’t you???”

7- he is a solid 70% leg. Good for him.

He looks so normal it’s very strange.

True immortality???? Maybe that’s why knives is baby smooth every time we’ve seen him. (Ick.) (there’s some part of me that wants so badly to like knives on the grounds that I understand where he’s coming from but he’s literally the fucking worst.)

There goes his arm. Again. Why is it always that one?

He genuinely reads like a different person with his hair down. Maybe that’s just me.

Did. Did nightow give mike mignola a copy of trigun. Better yet did he read it? We’re asking the real questions here.

(I made a poll for Vash’s vibes and the results are mostly exactly what I expected? Will post my findings. Manga Vash has the most variety so far.)

((Will I be able to do anything cool for Vash’s birthday? Who knows. Crossing my fingers I can hold it together that long, I am SO done with my summer classes and I wanna go home.))

(((I have had the worst stampede brainrot recently. It’s the purple color scheme and the flowers and the everything at the end. It fuckin EATS. I want to hold him gently.)))

#trigunbookclub

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theolddivorcedzukka · 6 months

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not sure if the ask game is asking us to request a cute story from you or asking us to tell one, so ill tell one just in case (though mine isn't really cute):

so when i was in like third grade(?), we had a grade wide talent show, it wasn't mandatory, there was a sign up sheet for anyone who wanted to participate - all we had to do was add our name + talent. i signed up and next to my name i wrote "playing the piano."

my teacher saw me write that down and asked me if i really played the piano (not meanly, obvs) and i told her that yeah! i played it in church! she was impressed and i was mildly confused cause like,,, it wasn't that big of a deal to me??

because you see, what I meant, was that in church, the older and younger kids would be split into different rooms to be given lessons. in the room with the older kids was a piano that we were not allowed to touch. so, at the end of every lesson, we'd all go to the piano and slam our hands on the keys. That's What I Meant.

so when the day finally came, I was so so confident, i thought i was gonna go up there and be so cool and awesome. they organized us by talents, and there was one girl that went before me. she played the piano, you know, correctly, and my confidence immediately shot down.

but then it was my turn.

i went up there, and i sat on the bench.

i just kept staring at the piano, at the empty spot where my music sheet should be.

not playing, i just kept alternating between staring in front of me and looking around in a slight panic.

then my teacher asked me if i was okay, if i had any music. do i wanna borrow the previous girl's music sheet? she asked the previous girl to give me her music sheet, and she did, she placed it in front of me.

if my confidence was already at rock bottom, then that sheet made it reach for the shovel.

cause oh my god, i had no idea what that shit on the paper meant.

at that point i was just frozen, my brain had fizzled out.

so i picked up the music, gave it back to the girl, and trudged back to my seat.

I just sat there for the rest of the performances.

anyway i think that's how i developed stage fright lol.

ANON NO 😭😭😭😭 that sounds like a horrifying way to develop stage fright omg im so fucking sorry. this does remind me of the time i was in a cruise with my family and they put me in this daycare where we had a talent day and when asked if i had a talent, i was like "mime." and so the instructor girl thing whatever was like ".....yeah??? well you can show it???" and i stood up and pretended to be in a box Badly for a solid minute before i noticed people weren't laughing or giving any good reactions and i immediately stopped and ran to my seat

#asks #anon

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stormyoceans · 1 year

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[VICE VERSA episode 6 parts 1&2]

“It’s life to meet and part” … and meet again, since you fake-out bastards come back

Omg this scene confused the shit out of me before they revealed it’s a whole-ass brain production by one lovesick Puen

Good thing it /is/ a fantasy because I would’ve kicked his ass so hard for tossing the popcorn

Damn, dream!Talay wants to stop watching the movie and “get ready for bed”, that popcorn disaster really did it for him huh

DID HE REALLY SPELL OUT THE WHOLE THING TO TALAY IRL????

AND TALAY EVEN CALLS HIM OUT ON BEING A PERVERT

PUEN’S BEING SO HONEST ABOUT HOW HE FEELS, GOOD FOR HIM!!!!

“Seeing you 24/7 is heartwarming” my heart

Oh right I forgot there was an intro

OH OH OH OHHHHH

The drums are my favorite part of this song they’re so good man

What is wrong with that damn megane lady

Instead of asking where Puen is the Nurse should’ve told Megane to get a life

“I haven’t seen him for a week” Jesus

Then again this is probably the way Puen thinks about Talay asldkjfkld

Why is Talay such a stick in the mud sometimes, fuck your game and play the guitar

I say as someone who loves gaming and gave up on playing the piano

(that was waaaaay back when I was a kid tho)

I’m so glad exams are a thing of the past, oh my god, fuck school

Tess’s friends getting all confused because their obnoxious friend got all solemn

But it’s nice that they took him seriously and came to cheer him up

Since Tess himself sure wouldn’t lmao

How often are you gonna repeat the “if this movie was aired in our universe” line omg

WHY IS HIS FRIEND SLEEPING THERE

AND HIS OTHER FRIEND THERE

So THAT’S the context for him jumping on the bed in the intro, I completely forgot

Yeah so the behavior Puen is exhibiting right now is not healthy, this is where he should indeed be spending time with others

Puen, put something on, god

I loooove it when Talay shows his considerate and caring side ughughugh

HUG!!!! I LOVE HUGS!!!!!

Also, FORESHADOWING OF THE CLIMATIC HUG???

“I stayed in. I didn’t contact anyone. I didn’t go anywhere” YOU WERE HEADIN’ STRAIGHT FOR DEPRESSION THIS IS SERIOUSLY NOT GOOD

“I couldn’t resist seeing you” You’re still allowed to SEE EACH OTHER!!!!

And if parting (to see each other next time) hurts that badly I /need/ you to get help

Talay immediately wants the dirt aksdfj

Puen looks like he needs a shower, when was the last time young man

“I like when you eat” I like when YOU take care of yourself

Is Up’s “foul mouth” a lost in translation thing? He was fine to me

I wonder if the high-five miss was a legitimate mistake and the actors just went with it lmao

Puen protecting the cookies for Talay lmao

Also wait their first movie failed even though we know Puen wrote the script from the heart so I guess Thailand just hates love

TALAY BEING IN LOVE!!!!

Oh my god if he did that to my ear he wouldn’t be in love because he’d be dead

Hey guys you know what else makes one tired? Se–

Talay putting his hand on Puen’s wrist ;;;;

Talay: I WANNA KNOW WHAT LOVE IIIIIIS

Omg this scene confused the shit out of me before they revealed it’s a whole-ass brain production by one lovesick Puen <<<<< LITERALLY WILL NEVER STOP LOSING MY GOD DAMN MIND OVER THIS LIKE PUEN REALLY DID COME UP WITH AN ENTIRE SCENARIO IN HIS HEAD ABOUT HIM AND TALAY LIVING TOGETHER AND IT WAS SO REALISTIC NONE OF US EVEN DOUBTED IT WASN'T ACTUALLY HAPPENING BECAUSE IN PUEN'S MIND THEIR RELATIONSHIP WOULD VERY MUCH STAY THE SAME EVEN IF THEY WERE TOGETHER. THEY WOULD STILL BICKER AND BANTER AND TEASE EACH OTHER BUT ALSO KISS AND BANG AND BE BOYFRIENDS. GOD IT'S ME AGAIN DON'T HANG UP IM IN A SITUATION

Damn, dream!Talay wants to stop watching the movie and “get ready for bed”, that popcorn disaster really did it for him huh <<<<< PUEN MADE HIM SAY THAT WITH THE MOST STUGGESTIVE TONE AND EXPRESSION TOO HE REALLY WAS ABOUT TO MAKE TALAY AS HORNY AS HE IS

DID HE REALLY SPELL OUT THE WHOLE THING TO TALAY IRL???? <<<<< YEP. YEAH. LIKE I REALLY NEED YOU TO LET THAT SINK IN FOR A SECOND. PUEN JUST SPENT 5 WHOLE MINUTES REVEALING TO TALAY ALL OF HIS ROMANTIC DOMESTIC HALF HORNY FANTASIES DOWN TO THE DETAILS AND TALAY STILL THINKS HE'S DOING IT FOR THE BIT. AND PEOPLE WONDER WHY DID I GO CRAZY JUST BLAME THESE TWO

“Seeing you 24/7 is heartwarming” my heart <<<<< puen really has been wanting to spend his entire time with talay since the beginning and yes it's because he's in love but he also just enjoys talay's company so much IM 🤧🤧🤧

Mm, I’m split on Talay’s “you should see others too” because yes it’s NEVER a good idea to obsessively attach yourself to just one person but on the other hand Talay probably doesn’t realise Puen’s just super-in-love <<<<< talay saying that always makes me want to tear my hair out in frustration and at the same time it's the reason why episode 7 is so emotionally satisfying to me, because he really Does Not Get It yet, how deep puen's feelings run and how honest he's being and how much he wishes for them to have a future together. at this point their attitude towards being each other's portkey also changed from the beginning, with puen now wanting and believing that to be true and talay thinking they should look for someone else, and you can sense the tension building and building until it's going to snap next ep

Oh right I forgot there was an intro <<<<< not to be disgustingly biased once again but vice versa best intro of the year i haven't skipped it ONCE in all the times i've rewatched the show

“I haven’t seen him for a week” Jesus <<<<< I SWEAR PEOPLE IN LOVE ARE SO ANNOYING THEY HAVEN'T SEEN EACH OTHER FOR A WEEK AND THEY'RE ACTING LIKE IT'S BEEN YEARS AND THERE'S AN ENTIRE OCEAN SEPARATING THEM WHEN TUN'S FAMILY'S PLACE IS PROBABLY JUST A TOWN OVER Y'ALL ARE SO EMBARRASSING ✋😭

Why is Talay such a stick in the mud sometimes, fuck your game and play the guitar <<<<< talay CAN be a bit harsh and uptight sometimes but he always ends up feeling bad and making up for it because in the end he can't really say no to puen (good luck with that talay sfjksgdksg)

I’m so glad exams are a thing of the past, oh my god, fuck school <<<<< BIG SAME TBH that's not a period of my life i want to revisit

Tess’s friends getting all confused because their obnoxious friend got all solemn // But it’s nice that they took him seriously and came to cheer him up <<<<< i swear kita and fuse are SUCH GOOD HOMIES and they care so much for their friend even if from their point of view he changed a lot and doesn't spend a lot of time with them anymore TESS DOESN'T DESERVE THEM

WHY IS HIS FRIEND SLEEPING THERE // AND HIS OTHER FRIEND THERE <<<<< tess' bed is big enough to fit the three of them but talay really said puen is the only person allowed to sleep next to me y'all can take the floor ✋

Yeah so the behavior Puen is exhibiting right now is not healthy, this is where he should indeed be spending time with others <<<<< this is something i haven't really talked about because a lot of people don't have the most positive feelings towards puen and i don't want to look like im justifying everything he does but tbh i think some of his behaviors tell a lot about the state of his mental health. there's a reason why he didn't want to go back to be himself and his real life, there's a reason why he went as 'tun' for so long and didn't tell talay his real name, and it has a lot to do with the fact that he never really liked being 'puen'. as soon as he loses the things and people that keeps him anchored (talay, up, aou, the screenwriting) he goes back to self-destructive behaviors that the show can't really explore in depth but are definitely there (like you mention in another comment i do think puen has struggled with depression in the past and i think the drink and drive is also a manifestation of that)

HUG!!!! I LOVE HUGS!!!!! // Also, FORESHADOWING OF THE CLIMATIC HUG??? <<<<< HUGS ARE THE BEST THING IN THE WORLD AND IM SO HAPPY PUENTALAY HAS LOTS OF THEM. it's also interesting to notice that in this episode there's definitely a big emotional shift in talay, who went from 'i don't like to be hugged' to hug puen basically in every episode from now on

“I couldn’t resist seeing you” You’re still allowed to SEE EACH OTHER!!!! <<<<< THEY REALLY ARE SO OVER DRAMATIC THEY STARTED COUNTING MINUTES AND SECONDS I HATE THEM ACTUALLY

Puen looks like he needs a shower, when was the last time young man <<<<< don't worry he's gonna ask talay to give him one soon

Is Up’s “foul mouth” a lost in translation thing? He was fine to me <<<<< i think talay mentioned that as something he missed from up in general, because usually up speaks very rudely (tho it's definitely something that doesn't translate as much in english because as a language it doesn't have all the different tones and polite particles that thai has)

I wonder if the high-five miss was a legitimate mistake and the actors just went with it lmao <<<<< im pretty sure it was an actual miss from the actors that they kept in the show!!! i think something like that happened at the end of episode 5 too, when up slapped the back of aou's head and aou's glasses fell on his face!!!

Puen protecting the cookies for Talay lmao <<<<< talay jokingly says he likes something ONCE and the next day he gets home to find the house filled to the brim with it hashtag true story

TALAY BEING IN LOVE!!!! <<<<< PHYSICALLY COMBUSTING EVERY TIME I SEE THE BED SCENE BECAUSE IT'S JUST!!!!!! SO MUCH!!!!!! talay saying what he missed about puen not because puen is listening but just because he feels like saying it and everything he lists being just so inherently PUEN and not linked to the body he inhabits IM SORRY BUT THIS IS SIMPLY SO HIGH ROMANCE TO ME IF YOU SEE A HOODED FIGURE WANDERING THE STREETS WAILING DON'T BE AFRAID IT'S JUST ME

Oh my god if he did that to my ear he wouldn’t be in love because he’d be dead <<<<< sfjksgdj i've never had anyone touching my ears like that so idk how i'd react to it but i think at this point talay is so gone he'd let puen do anything to him [wink wink nudge nudge]

Hey guys you know what else makes one tired? Se– <<<<< i was about to say something but then i remembered talay suggested to pat puen's back and bum to help him get sleepy and puen was so on board with that....... UNBELIEVABLE

Talay: I WANNA KNOW WHAT LOVE IIIIIIS <<<<< at this point im pretty sure that's puentalay's go to karaoke song choice sfjksgf

#episode 6 really did something to my brain and i think it shows #also you love manga i love manga. you love games i love games. not to scare you off but i think we are meant to be besties #(though when it comes to videogames i mostly watch playthrough rather than play them myself ;;;;;;;)#vera and monica watch vice versa #m: ask

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5ammi90 · 3 months

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Episode 7

Oh, time for Victor to meet Mia’s dad.

Felix is about to get his heart stomped on. Private not public, that is the three words Lake is gonna destroy him with. Lake be nice. Nicer than that Lake. Someone hug him.

That was a very blunt quick no. I mean I understand last time she gave piano lessons it ended badly but wow. Isabel, you picked up on that right.

Who gave him permission. I’m ace and even I am speechless. Good luck Victor. Benji. Benji. No. That is not a good idea. Victor is not in the right mind set. You aren’t mind set. Oh god. Trainwreck.

The fuck is Willacoohee???

You are definitely missing Dinner at Mia’s. Benji is traumatised. Ah found something Benji is bad at, driving.

Poor Mia.

Sorry Felix, no Victor. Pilar help. Don’t compare anything to shape of water. That film is so stupid. No Felix, stop trying so hard. Pilar, help him, please. Wtf, how did the child do that. Adrian, teach me that.

Yeah Victor. Benji is very correct about Dolly. She is timeless. Uh oh, trouble with Derek.

Adrian is now the piano model.

Uh oh, dad is gonna blow. Uh oh it was quite. That makes it worse.

Read books, talk to each other. Pilar and Felix friendship isn’t something I knew I needed. Yeah let’s go get coffee.

No shit Wally. Obviously it’s broke. Listen to Benji. Hey Victor do you wanna go thrift shopping. Yay montage. Benji actually suited that hat.

Poor Mia. Oh no Andrew. Gross, I agree Mia. So they use to be friends, dated and then broke up and it went bad. I assume.

Victor. Please don’t do what I think you are gonna do. Victor. Seriously. Oh my god.

Oh yeah Lake said something about 15 years of knowing each other. Cold Mia.

Oh shit. Pilar, kill her. Wait hang on, Lake noticed he didn’t like her posts. Bye Felix.

Isable is singing. Go Mum.

Sorry Mia. Victor is a dumbass

Dang it he is good at driving. I will find something he’s bad at. DUI. You drove through a Wendy’s. Maybe ‘good’ was the wrong word. Dang Benji. Victor stop looking at him like that. I know it’s difficult but you have a girlfriend. He also has a boyfriend (I think, don’t know what’s happening there). Ooooo thunder and lightning.

Oh wait, please don’t do stupid thing, like that. Awkward drive home. Shit.

Okay first break up with Mia and then have few days to clear your mind.

I don’t mean go to New York to meet Simon. Hang on a second.

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whocaresifwearecrazy · 1 year

Text

FOR THE LOVE OF COFFEE!!!!

Your honor, I had to post this here

(1) Tweek at the piano

"TELL ME WHAT TO DOOOOOOOOOO ABOUT IT! TELL ME HOW TO SAAAAAAAAAY GOODBYEEEEEEEEEEE! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE WITHOUT YOOOOOOOOOOU! DON'T WANNA LOOOOOOOOOOOOSE MY WORLD, TONIIIIIIIIIGHT!"

(2) Workout

Tweek: "Yeah, just working out...you know, no big deal-GAH! Before-school, coffee drinking workout...OH GOD! THIS IS GONNA END BADLY! I CAN JUST FEEL IT! GAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

(3) "We made something!" -Clyde

Click "Keep Reading" for more context

Craig: "Are..."

Tolkien: "We..."

Tweek: "Ready..."

Jimmy: "Y-yes..."

*a few minutes later*

Jimmy: "Please..."

Craig: "Buy..."

All 5: *laughter*

Clyde: "Tacos..."

*take 3*

Tolkien: "Here's..."

Clyde: "The..."

Tweek: "Story.."

Jimmy: "Of..."

Craig: "A..."

All 5: *laughter*

Clyde: "Did you just turn it into The Brady Bunch?"

*take 4*

Craig: "Hey..."

Clyde: "Guys..."

Tweek: "So..."

Tolkien: "We've..."

Jimmy: "De-de-de-decided..."

Clyde: "To..."

Tolkien: "Go..."

Craig: "All..."

Tweek: "In..."

Jimmy: "And..."

Craig: "We..."

Tolkien: "Can't..."

Jimmy: "Wait..."

Clyde: "The..."

Tweek: "School..."

Craig: "Dance..."

Jimmy: "To..."

Tolkien: "Begin..."

Craig: "Again..."

All 5: *laughter*

Tweek: *sighs*

Tolkien: "That was great, guys!"

Craig: "We made a sentence."

Clyde: "We made a sentence that made sense."

#For the Love of Music #South Park #Tweek #I Combined Two of My MANY Guilty Pleasures #Help Me #10:21 am

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cometcaper · 3 years

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I thought I'd share my playlist for the anniversary of the boathouse kiss. :)

Song translations, MANY thoughts, and timeline under the break.

Noise warning for song 19, Hinahanap-Hanap Kita. 4:23 to the end. Loud high pitched beeps.

YouTube music version to be made soon.

Translations for foreign songs:

Ewan [Dunno] — Apo Hiking Society — Filipino/Tagalog

Amour plastique [Plastic love] — Videoclub — French

Panalangin [Prayer] — Apo Hiking Society/Moonstar88 — Filipino/Tagalog

Hinahanap-Hanap Kita [I'm Looking For You] — Rivermaya — Filipino/Tagalog

This is a collaborative playlist made with my friend.

Thought Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy would be a good starter song. Something about the music. Represents a good start of Alec persuing Maurice, like, hey, I can be yours... Whatcha doin'?

I added Puppy Princess because of the chorus but I know some people don't like that song so... You can skip if you'd like. KISS MEEEEE KIISS ME WITH YIIR EYESSS CLOSED . ALL I WANT IS YOU YEAH YOU. TELL ME I'M NOT FUNNY TELL ME I'M LEGIIIIT

Ewan. OH MY GOD this song is so them. Alec cares for Maurice, and doesn't like not being taken seriously or being treated badly and brushed off.

"I don't know why you're like that, you're difficult to talk to and you're a snob" COME ON IS THAT NOT THEM — Just a smile from you, and I'll be in heaven. Please give me a response, anything but "No idea"... What a perfect representation of Alec's continuous persuit of Maurice, always talking, always trying...

I could go on with every lyric.

Edit: I just realised this song fits so well for Alec's letters and meeting at the museum. Must resist the urge to add the same exact track twice.

So about Touch Me... Some of the lyrics apply better in other versions. Spotify just has this version tho. Touch me, just like that.

All I've Ever Known. Maurice discovered so much that night about touch and sharing and being with someone. He wants to be with Alec. "All I've ever known is how to hold my own, but now I want to hold you too. [Hold you close, I don't wanna ever have to let you go. Hold you tight, I don't wanna to back to the lonely life.]" Alec opened up his eyes and he'll never be the same.

Can't Help Falling in Love With You. 'Did you ever dream you'd a friend, Alec? ... Someone to last your whole life...' 'Alec, you're a dear fellow and we've been very happy.'

I'd Like To Walk Around In Your Mind was added from Maurice's perspective. Perhaps it fits Alec too...

I think Love At First Sight has the double meaning of the literal title, as well as "wouldn't you like to kiss her" perhaps being... Something Maurice would hear.

I Don't Dance. Based on this post/edit. Please watch this video oh my God.

Pink in the Night. Alec yearns for Maurice in the boathouse. He hasn't come. He hears his heart breaking tonight.

Every lyric is perhaps pulled straight from Alec's brain, to be honest. I remember seeing a post with this song in other contexts with them too. So yes, a few meanings.

Amour plastique. Alec reminiscences on the night in the Russet room. Why hasn't he come?

In my mind, everything goes wild. I lose myself in your eyes. I drown myself in the vagueness of your loving gaze.

And at night I cry tears that stream down my cheeks. I think of you only when the days ends, only when my sad demons descend upon my mind, into the bottomless abyss.

Waiting in the boathouse at night, when the day ends.

I ring out in kisses all down your chest. Lost in the avalanche of my heart astray. Who are you? Where are you?

The moments of then repeat in his mind. Where is Maurice?

I suppose Hopelessly Devoted To You and I'm A Fool To Want You are self explanatory. Maurice should really come... Alec really toughed it out, 2 days he spent in the boathouse, really wanted to see Maurice, really knew they had something, and doesn't want to be treated like a dog. Generally, his 1st letter.

Moon Song. My friend said they added it as a general love song. — Why do you treat me like this? Why didn't you come to the boathouse? — Alec's 2nd letter as a whole. Plus bits of 1st.

And you pushed me in, and now my feet can't touch the bottom of you. ... So I will wait for the next time you want me, like a dog with a bird at your door.

Ewan would fit here tbh.

Panalangin. My only prayer in this lifetime: to be beside you, to be together with you, that's my prayer.

"I since cricket match do long to ... place both arms round you and share with you, the above now seems sweeter than words can say."

And this heart won't allow if you will be away from me, my love, please listen.

It also fits the end of museum.

I Want You. Maurice, can you come to the boathouse already? Alec has no power to teleport you there. I hold one card that I can't use.

I found you. I found the door, but when I stepped through, there was no floor. He found Maurice, bit he's not being here for Alec.

You're coming back And it's the end of the world We're starting over And I love you, darling And I am done, dear

Alec wishes this would happen. Also, he does come back later and they love again over, and "it is finished".

Credit for suggesting the next two songs goes to @beatle-capaldi!!! He also wrote was in quotations!

English Summer Rain

The Most Radical Thing To Do

Hinahanap-Hanap Kita. 1st letter, he's looking for Maurice. Thinking about them together.

In my thoughts and dreams, in every turn of destiny, I look for you. Also applies to that hotel/post-hotel feeling. I look for you, even if I try to forget you, saying goodbye, looking back...

Wildest Dreams. They think a lot of each other. They share once more. But they must say goodbye. Alec saw this coming. Maurice hopes that Alec will remember him like this.

I Hear a Symphony. Alec truly opened up Maurice's eyes. Maurice was meant to be with him. He helped Maurice, changed his life. But now Alec is leaving on ship... Or is he? The symphony leads into...

An orchestral sountrack. The Boathouse. Unfortunately the Maurice soundtrack is not on spotify. It's on my personal YouTube music version. I added it because it just captures the boathouse the only way the sountrack itself can.

The Word of Your Body (Reprise). MLM people have moment of romantic tension, which culminates in confessions of love. Just had to add it. "Haven't you heard the word of your body?" perfectly describes Alec gifting and showing Maurice the wonder of truest physical affection and love. He lets Maurice be okay with himself, and again, changes everything. Every lyric is perfect.

Also, sorry JBW, I like other versions more... Too bad Spotify is mean.

I See The Light. Yeah. Every lyric. Maurice is Rapunzel. Movie Blond too. Both the morning at Russet room and the museum. And the world has somehow shifted. All at once everything is different, now that I see you. "By now they were in love with each other consciously."...

Suddenly Seymour. Suddenly see more, yeah? Clive = ass and someone gives him affection for once, wow! Sidenote, I want to sing this with them and their accents... Suddenly SCUDDER...

Helpless. Musical theatre songs seem to be good retellings of their love story. It's why they belong in post boathouse. Summaries and retellings. They're also good at conveying love they'd feel for each other in general, all times ever. Like loving men, retelling a story.

I'll Cover You. Cute love song feat. gays. I like to imagine them dancing around, declaring their love and devotion for each other. Walking and dancing around like in the original scene, sometime post canon. In my own imagination, I thought of Alec as Angel and Maurice (Christopher) as Collins.

Video Games. They must love spending time together. I thought this to be Maurice POV. Only worth living if somebody is loving you I mean, come on.

It's you, it's you, it's all for you. Everything I do. I tell you all the time, heaven is a place on Earth with you.

Un sospiro. I headcanon that Maurice picks up the piano and plays for Alec. Perhaps he picked it up bc of/after Clive, but now can play it for someone who gives a shit.

Something about the melody reminds me of them. And then it gets more intense... A bit like the passions of love, showing up in sharing and touch and more, too.

Liebestraum. I mean, it means love dream/dream of love. I just had to. Also I just like Liszt.

Take Me Up With You, Dearie. This song is just so sweet... So soft... Edwardian to boot... I love how quintessentially 1909 it is. Discovered it in a YT video. The thought of them getting married makes me cry. This song in general makes me want to cry, it's so romantic, tender, and exudes my favourite era...

Let us float, float, float through the clouds, and just have a lot of fun. We'll go up, up, up as two and then come down as one.

Put Your Head on My Shoulder. We Belong Together. I always imagine Maurice and Alec slowdancing to songs that come on the radio together, when the 1950s hits... Alec probably rests his head on his shoulder as this plays and they dance...

I'm using a lot of ellipses, am I secretly Rupert Graves?

Welcome to the 70s and 80s. They love dancing together and being with each other. Now, Panalangin can be a happy song. My only prayer for this lifetime ... To be together with you. And this heart won't allow if you will be away from me.

Just the Two of Us. What a nice, vibey song. Great title, great scenario of them dancing to this...

Tiny Dancer. Your Song. MLM people in the 70s + Radio, being happy and in love with each other. — I just thought I should add some Elton. A different friend, and I, like him. Maurice sings to Alec, "And you can tell everybody this is your song." That I put down in words how wonderful life is with you in the world.

Electric Love. Fun fact: this song got me to share the playlist. Got me thinking about them and their anniversary again. The funky busy instrumental describes well their passionate love. The highs of electric LOOOOOOVE describe the intensity of them.

Alt text continued: themselves together under and the love. And the love. The song has its own tension and it perfectly pictures their own tension. So yeah, this is THEIR song quite literally.

Sorry if my music taste is perhaps basic. I just made it for when I hear songs that are Them.

Falling for Ya. Alec falls for Maurice. "I saw you when you first drove up, Mr Hall..." Something about Maurice, right? Plus really nice vintage vibes with the music. The bit about Into your arms and it's a secure sure sounds like Maurice. Awh, they're falling for *each other*...

Rainbow Connections. Gay and bi people. Marriage. Everything that Maurice and Alec went through to get here, where they were meant to be. Clive. Working for Clive. Leading up to now.

All the things that had to go right, all the things that had to go wrong, that lead us to the place where we were going all along.

On the YT version there's a soft/jazzy cover of Panalangin here. Because they're old and spending time together and being happy. What a throwback, a defined meaning in their lives over time.

Still Into You. After all these decades... Old and grown, together... True soulmates... Two men can defy the world... Maurice and Alec still roam the greenwood. Imagine Maurice meeting Alec's mom in this context. If only.

Postmodern Jukebox cover, because they are a quintessentially 20th century couple. They exude vintage.

Some piano playing for Alec. Soft, tender, romantic, emotional, true. Feels like nighttime. Feels like Maurice and Alec. And a throwback to the pre 1914 world as well. Claire de Lune feels like... A credits of life piece. Time spent in the early 1980s. Nocturne feels like that too, but more romantic. Smidge less nighttime. Ah yes, Gymnopédies. The truest credits feel of them all. None of these actually are credits for Maurice and Alec, but I struggle to find the word for this feeling. But yeah. These all have Them vibes to me. Piano of the time just does I suppose. Glad to be reminded of them at any time.

What a long playlist. Like going through almost their whole lives together. 1:52 hrs. Almost like a movie. Imagine that. A full movie of THEIR lives... But leaving to the imagination was a good thing. Led to this such action. Thank you E.M. Forster.

Timeline:

1. Pendersleigh

4. & 5. Russet Room. Night, then Morning

9. Cricket

10. Boathouse Nights

18. The Museum

20. The Hotel

21. After

23. The Boathouse

24. They Still Roam the Greenwood

I just like to imagine them dancing to songs on the radio, for decades to come...

#maurice 1987 #maurice 1914 #maurice #maurice hall #alec scudder #Spotify

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binniesthighs · 3 years

Text

in my arms | jisung x reader |

Pairing: self insert, female reader x han jisung

Genre: fluff n smut

Warnings: switch!reader, switch!jisung, established relationship, explicit language, oral (m&f giving and receiving), teasing, body praise, pretty dang fluffy ngl, cum swallowing, back scratching

Word count: 2.3k

this drabble is inspired by jisung’s most recent vlog where he was just chillin’ and being so soft and cozy I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it huhu I hope that you enjoy my first post ever ♡

“You’re not falling asleep are you?” You gently nudge jisung’s head where it was resting on your shoulder. You didn’t have the heart to tell him, but you had spent the last 20 minutes or so trying to ignore the pins and needles that the weight gave your arm.

“--nO!” He squeaked, then rather sleepily rose his head leaving you to try to shake your arm back to life in the least conspicuous way possible.

“I though you said that this was your favorite movie?” You brushed a few rogue strands of his warm brown hair out of his eyes, letting your fingers linger for a moment to savor its addictive softness.

Jisung pouted while he fixed his baggy white tee collar which had fallen under his collarbones. His eyes didn’t catch you sneaking a peak.

“I wouldn’t sleep through my favorite movie.”

“Really?” You cocked an eyebrow up with a growing smile, meeting his eyes which had become as baggy as his shirt.

“Didn’t I tell you? I’m pretty sure that I know every line from that movie; I used to watch it all the time growing up.”

You chuckled a little at his oh-so-common habit of forgetting the little things. “I’m pretty sure you have told me that before.”

“And I told you how I wanted to learn the piano song as well? And--”

“--and it was too hard for you to learn?” You snickered, “You’ve told me that as well. Someone’s sleepy brain needs to get some rest...can you put the laptop over on the desk for me real quick?”

“Sure.” He nodded, and tore off the fluffy down comforter off of the two of you. You had wished that he had given a warning considering the sudden blast of cold air that met your bare legs when he did so. At the same time, you could never stay mad at him for long, not when he looked like that.

Jisung looked perfectly cuddly in that moment--even more so than usual. His long white tee made it look like he wasn’t wearing his boxers at all, and his hair was perfectly tussled into an adorable looking mess from resting on you. You looked down to his legs and all you wanted was to have them entangled with yours. He turned to return back to bed when you noticed that the little mole on his right collarbone had made an appearance. You made a note to give it a kiss as soon as you got the chance.

As soon as Jisung was back in the bed where it was all toasty, everything felt right again. “Reach the light?

“M’kay.” You answered to twist the switch.

Once all of the lights were off, the two of you sunk into each other, completely wrapped up as close as you possibly could be, skin on skin, the softness of fabric; you could feel him gently breathing from where he had pulled your head into his chest.

He sighed deeply, exhaling. You were half expecting him to concede and tell you that he really was feeling tired, when he whispered the exact opposite. “Well now that I’m awake I can’t fall back asleep.”

“But I thought you said you weren’t sleeping...?” You let out a breathy laugh which made him draw you in closer.

“Shhhh.” He hushed. Jisung then took his hands to the back of your head where he began to play with your hair, massaging your scalp slightly. The sensation was amazingly relaxing and you started to feel your own eyes grow heavy...

You whispered into the dark room, “Mmm that feels so nice.”

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I...heh...don’t get mad at me for this one but...I’m kind of...you know...”

You pulled your head back, knowing exactly what he meant.

“Right now?”

“...yeah.”

“Is there like a reason, or something? I mean, I wasn’t really doing anything--”

“--There doesn’t need to be a reason...honestly.” Even in the dark of the room you could feel his little nervous smile. “But I mean, we’re in bed, and I’ve got you: so soft and warm all around me, in my arms...are you surprised? You just do that to me.” Jisung’s hand migrated over to rest on your cheek, carefully caressing it with his thumb.

The more that he talked about it, the more you lost yourself in him...as usual. He really had an effect on you as well. You suddenly became even more aware of your legs intertwined and the pressure it created.

“We don’t have to, or-or we could keep it short, I know that you have work tomorrow.”

“Are you trying to convince me to mess around with you right now?” You asked with a creeping smirk in the corner of your mouth.

Jisung shied his head away slightly. “Kind of.”

Upon his words you felt it. Down where you had nearly straddled your legs around him, he was growing harder and you could feel him lightly throbbing. It was a lot to show just for talking.

His breaths quickened and he pulled your head in closer to his, ghosting his lips over yours letting his hot breath tickle your skin. You knew that he was aching to touch you, and you, him.

Jisung whispered on your lips, “Do you want to?”

Your response was quickly given to him when you crashed your lips into his, and he returned with so much hunger, you could have thought that he hadn’t been kissed in months--but of course that wasn’t true. The truth was you could never keep your lips off of him. He knew what it was like and how diligent you could be, making sure that he was covered in them, nothing untouched, and it drove him crazy.

You swung your leg over his hip, and pulled him into you with your thigh as he grabbed a huge handful of your skin to steady himself. His fingernails dug into you with a delightful sting, and you kept working on his mouth, dragging your lips over his both slow and fast, whatever he wanted, it was what you did. Your tongues met in the middle of the heat and slicked over each other with a taste that sent you reeling. Jisung moved his hands to your back where they snuck up your shirt and he traced gentle lines all over. To sweeten it all, you grinded down into his lap, seeking a sensation that your now soaked underwear craved.

“--fuck.” Jisung gasped into your mouth.

He hastily tugged your shirt to the side, lending eager hands to fondle your breasts while his lips never left yours. He had decided to slow down his pace a little bit as he ran over your mouth more, being careful like he didn’t want to scare you. His fingers started to twist your nipples lightly and they quickly hardened. Below your hips, your whole core started to whine with desire for the warmth of his mouth to give it attention. Jisung pinched your bud just right, and it sent you gasping for air against him.

“You like that?” He jested for a second, even you could still see his bright smile in the darkness of the room.

You nodded quickly, hoping he would keep going if you said less.

“God.” He marveled at you for a minute. “You’re just so--”

“--Are you about to say something cheesy Han Jisung?” You lifted your arms to trace the outlines of his shoulder blades behind him, giggling.

“You’re everything.” He leaned down to plant a kiss on your forehead before letting his hands get back to work. He buried his head into your neck, fluttering kisses everywhere that he could only pausing to suck lightly. “You’re...my...everything.” He got out between kisses.

“You’re my...Jisung...” You tugged at his back while he kept flicking your sensitive buds between his fingers. When he was doing so you couldn’t keep your thoughts straight. You wanted so badly to tell him a million words and more about how he was your whole world too, but all you could manage was, “Please...more.”

“You want more baby?”

“Ye--”

He swooped down to bring his mouth to your hard bud, twisting his tongue around it while he cupped it too. With his tongue flat he looked up to you with his gorgeous brown eyes. From how good he was at just this, you could feel yourself getting closer by the second. Your legs crossed tightly to try and relieve some of the pressure. You scraped your nails up his back, getting impatient and eliciting a low groan from him.

“I’m ready.” You prompted and he immediately knew what you wanted, you didn’t even have to say a word.

Jisung cascaded kisses down your stomach, giving some well planned ones to your waist when he got there to give special attention the the stretch marks there. Ever since you had mentioned not liking them, he couldn’t keep his lips off them.

“Gorgeous.” He calmly said, and settled between your thighs.

Your body jerked when he took his thumb to lightly rub circles into your clit, bringing little moans and gasps from your lips. Jisung mischievously snickered to himself over the power that he held over you. He would stop rubbing every few seconds just to hear you whine. At last he pulled your underwear from your legs and you felt the touch of his fingers directly on your clit; he used his other hand to pull your leg back, digging into it like before and it made your whole body shiver. At this point, you had absolutely no control over the sounds coming from your mouth. Wherever he touched, you felt electric.

He darted his pointed tongue around your clit in circles, then would switch to lapping at it agonizingly slow. Over time, your whimpers became more and more desperate.

“Do you wanna cum?” He asked with cockiness laced in his voice.

Your thighs had began to shake without warning. “Ye-yes.”

“Then do it. Cum for me.” Jisung commanded, returning back to his work.

Your mind went completely blank once your orgasm hit you hard. It came it waves, and it only made you shake harder.

After a little chuckle in spite of himself, he brought himself back up to give you more kisses, holding your face is his hands once again.

You came down, feeling more energized than before, and even more desperate to do one thing.

“Your turn.” You commanded of him now, shoving him to his back, leaving a surprised look on his adorably squirrel-like face.

You hastily pulled his shirt up to ravage his chest with your mouth, dragging your burning lips all over the skin and tasting every bit of him that you could. From the sensation he appeared to melt into the bed, taking in shaky inhales while he tangled his fingers in your hair. Just a bit farther down, he was still throbbing under his boxers.

“You ready?” You quickly asked, and he nodded back, teeth catching his bottom lip.

He helped you snag off his boxers, revealing his dripping member pink and ready. You thought to yourself how it just was just so fucking cute when he was excited like that. Instinctually your mouth started to gather with saliva. You decided to use your hand first, pumping it slow and hard, just as you knew that he liked it.

“oh shit--” He moaned out. The words got caught a little in his throat, and that only made him sound even more heavenly.

His eyes were closed, but yours were drawn to him as you kept going. Watching him like this made you feel a surge of confidence that was like a drug. You could do this to him.

“m-more.”

“Look who is asking for more now?” You grinned.

“Y/n. please. You’re driving me fucking crazy.” His grip tightened on your head.

“You want it like this?”

Without a warning you brought your mouth down to the tip and started licking around it in long strokes and bringing it in just slightly, you didn’t want him feeling all of you just yet.

“oh god.”

“Feels good?”

“Yes. Fuck yes. Just--keep going.”

You teased him for just a little longer than you usually did, just to see what would happen. Of course you should have expected, the longer you waited, the more of a mess he became.

“Y/n, fuck, please.”

You finally caved. “Well since you asked so nicely.”

You brought your head all the way down, taking him completely in and squeezing with your hand just as hard. You hollowed your throat down to take in as much of him as you could without gagging: over the past few months you had perfected it.

“shit-I’m close.” Jisung hissed and buckled his hips.

You took his announcement as an indicator to speed up, so you did. Jisung’s moans and frustrated sighs fueled you further with how beautiful and downright erotic as they sounded. When he came it was unreal, his breaths were so fast one after the other it was almost like he was suffocating with his own pleasure. You held him firmly in your mouth as he finished throbbing, not sacrificing one drop.

As soon as he had a moment to breathe, he pulled you back into his arms and attacked you with kisses all over your face, it didn’t matter where; he was smiling through every one of them. He would pull back then to admire you one more time and your hair which was now in knots thanks to his grip from before.

“that was...”

“Amazing?”

“Yes.” He grinned and gave you a peck to your forehead. “And now I’m tired. I guess we succeeded in more ways than one.”

The two of you put your clothes back on from the light of phone flashlights then crawled back in, sweeping the comforter over top of you once again.

“Jisung?” you nuzzled into him, inhaling his comforting scent all around you.

“Mmm?”

“You’re my everything too.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #jisung x reader #jisung x y/n #han smut #han jisung smut #stray kids imagine #stray kids drabble #kpop smut #kpop imagine #kpop drabble #i hope that it was a fun time hehe #my first post ever uwu #switch reader #switch jisung #i LIVE for switch Jisung

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sushigal007 · 2 years

Text

To the Grunts!

We open up with Ripp and Buzz playing a nice little game of Punch-U, which makes a nice change from the first round, which was more Poke-U.

Buck: Absolutely not. Ripp: You’re tearing this family apart.

Buck is still super into cleaning.

And super into himself. Buck: Heeeey sexy, you scrub up good!

Buck: Bye bro!

Yep, it’s time for Ripp to head to college. He rolled La Fiesta Tech, so of course, he’s sharing a dorm with Johnny and Ophelia.

Back in Strangetown, Buck and Buzz head out for a little father-son bonding. Buck: Two coffees please.

Buzz: Just a nice, leisurely swim in the spent fuel pool.

Buck: Did you hear? Jenny Smith married an alien! That’s not news. Bottom: It is to me.

Wanda: No, it’s fine, I didn’t want a coffee or anything.

Turned Ripp’s old room into a music room. Buzz approves.

...I have no idea why I took this picture.

Buzz: Guess what I wanna do. All right, I can take a hint. Go talk sports to someone. Buzz: The other thing.

But first, I make him play piano at the Music Box because I’m bored of making him skill at home.

And then he really does talk sports with Cassandra, Cassandra: Not a big sportsball fan mysel- Buzz: LA LA LA CAN’T HEAR YOUR STUPID VOICE.

And then, just for lulz, I try out the cooking contest loophold to check it still works.

Buzz: But wait, what if it doesn’t glitch out this time and I end up serving chips I found at the back of the fridge?

Still glitched. Buzz: But wait, what if those stale old chips win?

WE HAVE A WINNER!!!!

I didn’t even know these two knew each other.

Hal: Nobody messes with the Capps! Ginger: I don’t even know what you’re talking about!

Elizabeth: Sounds like what you need is some security, and for a small, small, fee, I can offer you an exclusive contract... Sally: should I do something? Sally: Nah.

Sally and Ginger: *teen judgement intensifies*

Buzz: She’s still following me, isn’t she? Yep.

Secret Sue: Congrats on being the first person to successfully enter and win a cookery contest in like, three years. Buzz: Please leave me alone.

Buck got a genie lamp!

Any reason you delivered it all the way over there? Matchmaker: To annoy you, specifically.

Buzz, you just won a cookery contest, how did you mess up this badly?

Oh I see, it’s an excuse to upgrade.

Buzz: Sumo wrestlers. Buck: Rude.

Buck wanted to go on a date and his relationship panel showed me he had a bit of a thing going on with Sharla Ottomas.

Buck: Fancy commemorative photos!

You guys picked the absolute worst table to be cute at.

And they continue to choose awful places to be cute in.

Marginally better!

Priya: Personally I think this is a great place for romance.

Peter: I’m not gonna do one of those stupid macho dad intimidation talks, honest.

No, he’s just gonna drag the rest of the family out to judge Buck too.

Stella: Oh my God, you can’t just ask aliens if they’re UFO pilots. Buzz: Well I’m gonna.

Highs and lows at the Grunt household.

Buck: Such a nice day to do some painting. OK, but you know what’s even nicer?

Going on that beach vacay your dad had locked!

And of course, I couldn’t leave Tank and Ripp behind.

Brotherly bonding.

Relaxing massage.

Ripp: Wait, is this the hula or the Macarena?

Buzz: I want to live here. You’d better start saving up then, hadn’t you.

I thought the island was missing a little something, so I downloaded a super fancy hotel, made it over a bit, and sent Buzz along to test it out.

Finally my dreams of owning a luxury casino have paid off.

Buzz: Commemorative photo!

Buzz: It’s all right if I just sample one of these, right? Go right ahead! Got no weddings planned just yet, but it’s nice to have the venue ready.

I sent the family to the boardwalk the next day...

Then back to the hotel.

Buzz’s sons are very supportive of his new part time job as a wedding DJ.

Buzz: Sweet dreams.

Good thing there’s not a lot of traffic on Twikki Island.

Local: He’s not... Cashier: He is.

Yup, if a Sim rolls a want for new clothes while on vacation, I take that to mean they want to dress up in the local clothes, so Buck gets a pretty grass skirt.

Buck: I miss it already.

THE ZONE.

Juliet: *deafening silence* Buck: New bestie.

Buck: Great view of Strangetown from here. It sure is!

Buck: Great view of PT too. Uh, the Smith house is thataway. Buck: I said PT, not his house.

Horrible idea. Buck: You let Joan Mole flirt with Nathan Una. Fair point, let’s compromise - I’m not gonna make you do it myself, but I also won’t stop you if you decide to do it yourself, OK?

Aww.

Sunday! I decided it was time Buzz’s boys met Alexandra, so I invited them all over and I guess Alexandra had the same sort of idea because she brought Jules with her.

Jules: And I’m very happy to meet Buzz’s boys.

Ripp: I would’ve liked to meet slightly less of Alexandra though.

Buzz: That went well.

Tank: You’re gonna do that? Really? Ripp: The heart wants what the heart wants.

Jules: And for some reason what the heart wanted was to trek up ten flights of stairs to say goodbye.

Uberhood Index

#sims 2 #premades #Uberhood #grunt

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bluefirewrites · 3 years

Text

T.Rex, Velveeta, and Other Fun Names

A one shot I made, thanks to @lydias--stiles and @blush-and-books.

We were talking about what Luke’s middle name could be and it sparked an idea for this quick little one shot (which is neither quick or little actually.)

Could also be read on AO3.

ENJOY!

____________

Lucas T. Patterson

The madness of this week all started when Julie thumbed through Luke’s journal and found her songwriting partner’s messy scrawl inscribed in the behind the front cover.

Yeah, it was his name, Julie would have griped about how illegible it was and moved on to whatever song she and Luke had been workshopping the day before and thought nothing of it-

If it weren’t for the fact that there was a flurry of deep inset scratches of pen scribbling out the space where his middle name was supposed to be, leaving only the ‘T’ unscathed…

“So I was thinking, maybe we change the key. I thought I was feeling A Major,” Luke rattled off, playing the aforementioned series of chords on his electric, “But now, I think we could really intensify it by flipping to a minor key-”

“What’s the 'T' stand for?”

The ghost looked up, confused, “Huh?”

Julie held up the inner cover of the journal, pointing to his name, “Lucas T. Patterson. The ‘T’- what does it stand for?”

It was a simple question, but all color drained from his face.

“O-Oh. Oh that?” Luke stammered through, struggling to rid himself of his guitar, the skull and rose strap kept swatting his face in his hurry.

She nodded.

He was across the room in seconds, back facing her, pretending to fiddle with the amp settings, even going as far as inspecting Alex’s drums. Thank goodness the drummer wasn’t there right now or else he would be getting a thorough lecture. ("Tell him to stop touching my drums!" extended to his bandmates as well).

“It, uh, stands for my middle name,” he said, still not looking at her.

“I get that. So what is it?”

“It’s nothing,”

Julie rose from the piano bench, traversing the studio until she was right behind him. She forced him to pivot and face her, “No, it’s clearly something.”

Luke gave a dismissive wave and a weak nonchalant laugh, “It’s not a big deal,”

“It clearly is if you won’t tell me,”

Then his head cocked to the side. He cupped his ear, “Uh, what’s that? I think I heard Carlos!”

“What?” She couldn’t hear anything.

“Oh, you need help, Carlos? On my way!”

“He can’t even-”

In a flash of light and warp of reality, Julie was alone in the studio.

“- hear you...”

Oh boy.

Now what was that about?

________________

Ever since then, Julie’s curiosity only grew. Why was Luke so evasive when it came to his middle name? What could possibly be the reason?

With all the secrecy and going great lengths to omit it from his journal, she was betting on it being insanely embarrassing.

Which made Julie want to find out even more.

Luke didn’t get embarrassed so easily, not much to weaponize against him whenever they all made playful jabs at each other from time to time, like the friends they were. Really it was stuff like ‘Beware, Luke this shirt has sleeves’ which basically translated to ‘Haha, you’re attractive’.

Which did not pack quite the punch.

She was determined to decode Luke’s middle name, if not to quench her curiosity then to humble the guy.

He couldn’t be attractive and talented. Something’s gotta give.

(And no, she didn’t often think about how attractive and talented he was… Nope. Not at all).

“Tristan?” she threw out while they were backstage at their next gig.

Luke tuned his guitar, “Nope”

“Thomas?”

“Nuh-uh”

“Terrence?”

He finally looked up, smirking, “You will never find out.”

The tech burst in, phasing through the ghostly forms of the boys, to lead her out onto the stage.

She inwardly cursed. Saved by the bell.

“Break a leg, boss,” Luke wiggled his fingers at her before she was practically pushed past the curtain.

Even when she sat down to play the piano, Julie could not get the image of Luke’s smug face out of her mind. Oh, he probably thought her attempts were just so cute.

Yeah, cute for now.

But she wasn’t done yet.

____________________

“Alright, guys. Help me solve the mystery. What’s Luke’s middle name?”

It was one of those rare occasions where Luke was out of the house, leaving her, Alex, and Reggie alone.

The boys had been present for her previous tries to weasel Luke’s middle name out of him, and they were amused for the most part- Well, never as amused as Luke ‘Thinks He’s All That’ Patterson (not a serious contender in her guessing, by the way).

With their reactions, and however many years of brotherhood shared among the three of them, Alex and Reggie just had to know.

They were all chilling in the kitchen, Reggie perched on top of the counter and Alex lounging at the table. Julie poured herself a juice, waiting on the answer.

The bassist straightened up, “Oh. It’s-” Then he stopped, face scrunched up in a frown of concentration.

Julie directed her gaze at Alex, who was ready to jump in.

“No, wait it’s…” He faltered.

The two boys’s heads snapped to stare at each other as they pieced it together.

“Dude, I don’t think-”

“No. He had to have. I’m just blanking,”

“Guys?”

“Oh my god,” Alex uttered, pushing his golden locks back into his cap, “It took us this long to notice?!”

They were now on their feet, sandwiching Julie.

“We... don’t...know,” Reggie winced, admitting it out loud.

“How could you not know?”

“I don’t think he ever told us!” was the bassist’s defense, “He’s Fort Luke when he wants to be!”

He made the gesture of locking his lips and throwing away the key to which Alex nodded.

“Now I wanna know!”

“Me too!”

Now this was a development. If Luke’s boys had no clue, then it must be really juicy.

Taking a sip from her cup, Julie was all ready to recruit two new members for the noble cause…

_________________

Julie, Alex, and Reggie huddled in a circle at the studio, all bearing notebooks and furiously whispering at each other and scribbling away when Luke decided to make an appearance.

They dispersed, making their collusion all the more suspicious.

“Luke,” They all greeted, with the same level of enthusiasm… at the same time.

The guitarist eyed them skeptically. Then he took in the notebooks, “You’re having a band meeting. Without me?” he asked, hurt flashed in his hazel eyes.

“No, silly. We’re having a band meeting about you,”

“Reggie!” Alex and Julie hissed.

That only added to Luke’s hurt and confusion.

Sending him a reassuring smile, she guided him to an empty chair, placed right in the middle, just beyond the coffee table, “Sit down. Please.”

“Okay?” Slow steps and weird stares later, his butt plopped onto the seat, “Can someone tell me what’s all this abo-?”

“Lucas Theodore Patterson?” Alex leapt in front of Luke, reading his guess off his notebook.

Luke’s shoulders slumped, seeing where this was all going.

“Guys, really? You too-?”

“Is it or is it not Theodore?” Julie backed Alex up.

“God no,”

Reggie was up next, “Lucas Timothy Patterson?”

The nose scrunch answered for them.

“Lucas Tyrone Patterson?” as was Julie’s turn.

“No flow,”

And so they were stuck in a circle for the next 20 minutes, everyone taking turns guessing Luke’s middle name, their lists growing more desperate and random as they continued, even going as far as borderline yelling the names at him- that was how frustrated they were.

“Lucas Troy Patterson,”

“No”

“Lucas Trixie Patterson?!”

“That’s not even- that’s not even a guys name-”

“It’s Tyrannosaurus Rex. I’m telling you. It has to be!” Reggie slammed his notebook down, poking Luke hard in the chest with his index finger, “Admit it! LUCAS. T. REX PATTERSON!”

“Boy, I wish,”

Their guessing game, once the last of the names have been recited, left all of them breathless (even though two of them were ghosts!).

On any other occasion, Luke would have been sympathetic, especially seeing how broken up and defeated they all looked collapsed onto the couch, glaring at him like he was the enemy.

But their fruitless attempts only made him all the more victorious.

“Nice try guys,” he patted each of them on the shoulder before heading out.

Best to give them a break.

Ya know, to deal with the defeat.

____________________

She was nothing if not persistent.

But Julie knew she might have been taking things too far when she had made the trip to Emily’s.

Look, she thought she could just pay the woman a visit, to check up on her, catch up-

Maybe ask leading questions in order to trick her into telling her her son’s middle name?

Yeah, the plan was flawed from the start because how could she so subtly direct the conversation to her dead son’s middle name.

Maybe get her to tell a story about Luke getting in big enough trouble that would have warranted the whole ‘yelling-out-your-full-name’ treatment? Which was a total stretch.

But she didn’t expect it to be the complete and utter disaster that it was.

If Alex and Reggie hadn’t gotten impatient and started snooping around Luke’s old room and digging through his things to find some sort of sign for his name, and if Luke hadn’t decided to intervene, creating all kinds of ruckus in other rooms for his mom to stop and check-

Then maybe they wouldn’t all be sitting on the Molina living room couch hours, getting read the riot act by Luke Patterson of all people.

“I had to tip over my aunt’s vase!!”

“Well, if it's any consolation, your mom always hated that vase?” Reggie chuckled before being promptly silenced by one look from Luke.

Alex spluttered, “But, like, you didn’t have to break it??”

“I did what I had to do,”

“Your mom was so freaked out!”

“Well, that’s on you guys,”

Julie just about had enough with all these games, she pushed herself up from the couch, squaring up against Luke’s unwavering gaze, “You’re being ridiculous!”

“Me?” he yelled, taken aback, “ You went to my house!”

“We just wanted to know!”

“Oh my god!” His hands gripped at his hair, “Why do you wanna know my middle name so badly?”

“I like knowing stuff about you, okay!”

Luke stepped back. Eyes wide.

That-

That wasn’t meant to come out.

Especially in the booming, shrill tone she used.

“Oh…”

Luke was playing with the sleeves of his oversized flannel, the air between them thick and brimming with awkwardness. It didn’t help that Alex and Reggie took this as the opportunity to flee.

Now it was just the two of them in the living room.

Breathing deeply to collect herself because it finally hit her- they were in a screaming match all because of a middle name . Like, Luke wasn’t the only one being ridiculous. It was her too. This whole quest to figure out what the T in his name stood for was so pointless.

They were fighting and Julie didn’t like it.

“And,” she cleared her throat, dislodging the unpleasantness, “there’s something clearly bothering you about it. Just… maybe thought I could help?”

Julie had been kidding herself. Messing with Luke might have been her initial goal, but what bugged her most about not knowing his middle name was the fact that even after all the time they spent together, there were things that Luke still wouldn’t tell her.

He was entitled to keep his secrets, yes, and she still felt bad for spying on him on his birthday. But, they were bandmates, writing partners, friends . She had confided in him a lot and he with her, and they just…

They always had this closeness. A closeness that she appreciated and didn’t take for granted.

And she had acted so recklessly because of it.

Luke nodded, taking it in. He didn’t look mad, but he understood. Julie could tell he was able to get more from her than the words she spouted at him.

“It’s, just,” his voice lowered into a self-conscious whisper, “It’s just something I don’t like a lot of people knowing...”

“I’m sorry. I pushed,”

“It’s okay,” the left corner of his mouth twitched, “You wouldn’t be Julie, if you didn’t” he playfully punched her shoulder.

She gaped at him in mock offense, “Hey!”

“Just saying. Tt’s not the first time you showed up on my doorstep, digging up my past,” she instinctively grimaced but Luke reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, “But I know it’s coming from a good place. Thanks.”

He really shouldn’t be so forgiving, Julie thought. But she was just happy that they could just leave this mess behind them.

“I’ll get the guys to drop it,” she offered.

That made Luke laugh, “Good luck with that. Reggie’s wearing Alex down. Now he’s seriously considering my middle name to be ‘Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’,”

“If it was that embarrassing, I’d see why you’d keep it a secret,”

It seemed like Luke wanted to say something but shook his head and thought better of it. Instead he tugged her by the hand to the door, “Come on. You never did give me your opinion on the key change…”

_______________

It was months later when it finally came out.

They were in her room. She was doing homework and he was getting a jump start on their newest song, working side by side on the floor.

Her laptop was open, some randomly chosen Spotify playlist streaming in the background. All was well when the familiar chords of ‘Get Lost’ started playing, causing Luke to visibly tense up.

“Trevor,”

“Right. Sorry, I’ll turn it off-”

“No. That’s…” He sighed and moved into a kneeling position.

Pushing his already opened journal to Julie, Luke flipped it to the cover, where his name was written.

He pointed to the scribbles over his middle name.

Where only the T was exposed…

Trevor.

“Lucas...Trevor...Patterson?”

“My full name. Ba-da?” his jazz hands fell flat, betrayed by the quiver in his voice.

“Oh,”

“I, uh, never liked how it sounded. And you know how I feel… about things that just don’t flow right”

Julie did. For sure. Scrapped lyrics and melodies were often what happened. Never to be brought up again.

He continued, “My mom would insist on writing out my full name on my notebooks for school- Luke Patterson is already so generic,” and the first genuine chuckle of the night huffed out, “Never used them for class of course. Just to write songs.”

“Tre-Bobby,” she corrected herself “He would have needed proof that he wrote everything...”

“My old notebook. That had ‘Get Lost’ and ‘Crooked Teeth’. Made the mistake of writing it in pencil. It’d be so easy to just-”

Slamming the laptop closed, silencing the song, Julie enveloped the ghost in a hug. He melted against her, hands gripping onto her shoulders from behind, for dear life, the weight of the reveal finally taking its toll.

“I didn’t like my middle name before. Now, I just- I just can’t stand it,” he whispered into her shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Luke”

“Were the songs not enough? He had to steal my name too?”

The ache carried by his voice made Julie squeeze tighter.

She had no words.

What Bobby did, what he took from Luke, was more than she could ever fathom. She didn’t know what to do, what to say to him to soothe the pain.

She only held him.

For as long as he needed.

___________

"How come Alex and Reggie never found out?" she would ask him later.

"Didn't make it habit to show off my journal"

She frowned, "But you let me read it."

Luke, too, had no words in response.

____________

“Hey, wanna go on a walk with me?” Julie asked him out of the blue one evening.

Luke could definitely use a break, especially from whatever row Alex and Reggie had just gotten into. He nodded and took her offered hand.

They took a stroll down her street, hands still joined but hidden in Julie’s hoodie pocket (as to not make it seem like she was grasping at air). The sun was beginning to set over the hills as they could see from their vantage point in the park, their set destination.

Julie seemed to have some purpose for this random walk because she was leading him around until they reached a tree in a more secluded part of the grounds.

Whipping out a pocket knife, Julie replaced her hand in her grasp with the odd tool.

“What’s this?”

“For a while, I lost all sense of what music meant to me. I thought music was my mom. That if she’s gone then there’s no point in going on,”

“Aw, Jules”

Her sunny disposition shone through in a smile, “It’s okay. I had to redefine music for myself. Give it new meaning. Music is not just my mom. It’s my family and Flynn. It’s you and the guys” she shrugged, “It’s me.”

“I would have told you that,” A tender touch to her forearm coaxed an even bigger smile from the girl, “You definitely are music.”

Momentarily distracted by the compliment, it took a moment for Julie to get back on track.

“What I’m trying to say is. I think it’s time for you to redefine yourself. There’s stuff in your old life that you miss, but there’s also stuff you want to leave in the past…”

It dawned on Luke what Julie was referring to.

“That ‘T’ is a placeholder. You could go by a different middle name. You could do whatever you want. You’re a ghost now. You can… move on. So,” she revealed the blade and placed it in his palm once more. She nodded at the tree.

“Go ahead. Go give your name a new meaning, Make your mark,”

Grinning, Luke picked up on her plan and began carving into the trunk, his initials, all three letters representing his name, with each mark easier to craft than the last, imbuing more love and meaning into them, just like what Julie said.

Once done, he admired his handiwork, floored by how cathartic it was, to have his name on something that was gonna last.

L.T.P

He was taking back his goddamn name.

He beheld it with pride.

“I’ll ask again,” Julie leaned against the tree, tracing the letters with her fingers, “What’s the 'T' stand for?”

With no hesitation he said-

“Thundercat,”

“W-What?” Julie choked.

He lost it at her reaction, “You said whatever I want. I loved that show as a kid!” he giggled.

“Lucas… Thundercat… Patterson,” Julie so badly wanted to make a comment, Luke could tell. But she changed her mind, “You know what? If it makes you so happy then go for it. Who am I to stop you?”

“Nah, I’ll think of something else later on. But it’s my afterlife. I could go through as many middle names as I want, right?”

“Exactly,”

Luke returned her knife and thought she was going to slip it back into her pocket. Instead, she strode up to the tree and proceeded to carve her own initials right below his.

“There. So your name doesn’t have to be lonely up there,” she folded up the blade and put it away.

“You know that, uh, couples usually do that kind of thing,” Luke couldn’t help but notice that, with the way their initials were oriented on the tree.

A rosy hue graced the girl’s cheeks, “Oh...yeah.”

A beat of silence followed, just the two of them staring at the tree.

“I like how our names look next to each other though,”

Luke nodded, a warm feeling settling in the pit of his stomach and rising, “Me too.”

Squinting, he read Julie’s initials, “ J.V.M. What does the ‘V’ stand for?”

A devious glint sparkled in her eyes, “Maybe you’ll just have to guess.”

“Aw come on!”

She raised an eyebrow, “Oh as if you made it easy for me?”

Ok. She had him there, “Fair enough.”

The whole walk home, Luke ran through all the ‘V’ names he could think of.

“Julianna Valeria?”

“Nope,”

“Julianna Vanessa?”

“C’mon, songwriter. Where’s the flow?” she teased.

Luke snapped his fingers, believing he cracked the code, “Victoria. After your aunt,”

“No. But imagine how mad she was when she found out,”

“Venus, Vanilla, Vaseline-”

“Vaseline?”

They were at her doorstep, and he bounded in front of her, blocking her path, “I won’t give up.”

“I don’t expect you to,”

“Velveeta. Like the cheese”

“It’s Valentina,” she finally said, pushing him aside, fishing through her pockets for the keys to open the front door.

“You got Valentina while I got stuck with Trevor?” She lucked out in the middle name department, that was for sure.

Of course someone like Julie got shacked up with a beautiful name like Valentina…

“I could change mine too. In solidarity,” she said offhandedly.

“If I go with Reggie’s suggestion: Tyrannosaurus Rex then would you be Velociraptor?”

“T.Rex and Velociraptor?” she laughed in disbelief, finally walking through the threshold of her house. Thank goodness everyone else was already upstairs.

“From this day forth, I will be known Lucas Tyrannosaurus Rex Patterson!” he confidently declared

“And I’ll be Julianna Velociraptor Molina!” she repeated, taking much pleasure in the absurdity of it.

“Were you a dinosaur kid?”

“You saw my slippers and my PJs...”

“True,”

_______

Luke didn’t expect for them to take the whole new middle name thing so seriously.

But if they so happened to greet each other next time with prehistoric roars and with him tackling her onto the studio couch and pretending to bite her like the carnivore he was, then that was for them to know…

And for Alex and Reggie to remain confused about.

__________

Bonus:

And after some years down the line and one magical reincarnation later, Luke decided to change his name again.

“Patterson’s okay,” he said to Julie, “But I think I need something new.”

“Oh yeah? What are you thinking?”

Luke went down on one knee, in front of the tree they marked up when they were teenagers, ring in hand.

“Molina sounds pretty good to me…”

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #jatp fic #juke #palina #juke-box #julie x luke #luke x julie #julie molina #luke patterson #for unofficial juke week #fandometrics babyyyy #almost had a tidbit here where flynn tries to say her last name but gets cut off #like why are we here thinking about luke's middle name #flynn and willie need last names

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heyimboredtalktome · 3 years

Note

Need any solangelo headcanons?

Nico can't drive, like no, he drives very chaotically and it's dangerous for other people so Will is the one to drive

Nico has sweet tooth and Will is like "VEGETABLES"

Will pouts and melts at the same time whenever Nico's singing or playing piano because a) he's so good that's unfair and b) he's in love with the best boy on earth

Nico is melting whenever when Will plays basketball

Will makes shitty poems to Nico and one time he sang a serenade under the window, playing lute. Considering Will can't sing at all it sounded horrible but Nico liked it anyways

Nico just likes watching Will do his work. If you're in the infirmary, don't mind Nico di Angelo sitting on the table or a windowsill, watching Will healing someone

Even though Will knows Hades doesn't really like him, he keeps inviting Lord of the Underworld to family dinners to show that he's a good pair for his son

They have black cat named Mika uwu

Okay so this reminds me why I love you so much because I have thought of all of these at some point in my life:

So the driving thing. Gays can't drive. Like it's a fact. The saying for gays is spare the wheel, spare a bone or two. Nico did try to drive Argus's van with Will in shotgun and oh lord the way Will was screaming, he might as well been trying to sing soprano or something.

Nico has stashes of sweets and candies hidden all over his Cabin like some he buys and some he gets from Reyna and when Will's busy or something well say hello to hyperactive Nico because oh god that tiny boi is out to destroy you. Also about the vegetables, well Nico hates all vegetables (what the fuck do you mean green jellybeans don't count as a vegetable? Have you seen how ugly that ugly that shade of green is???)

Also about Nico playing the piano holy fuck I've thought too much about this, literally every piano piece I listen to I'm like "womp, time to imagine Nico playing it"

Will playing basketball with those tall limbs of his and Nico's like s t a r i n g and someone's like hey Nico and Nico's like " shhh shut UP I'm doing something extremely important don't you see????

YES THE FACT THAT WILL'S NOT THAT GOOD AT SINGING BUT STILL TRIES FOR Nico destroys me everytime I think of it.

I was thinking of this one earlier like when Nico's bored he always goes to the infirmary and he's like I'm bored will I'm b o r e d and Will's like good! Cut the bandages for me and the next thing you know Nico is cutting bandages like his life depended on it, so s e r i o u s. When he's not doing anything he's just staring at his boyfriend because-

Yes and Nico cooks even tho Will's like I wanna cook too 😤and Nico's like I don't want to kill my dad and Will's like I don't cook that bad🥺 and Nico's like yes William you do cook badly enough to even kill an immortal now gimme the salt.

There's this stray black cat around here too and I've knighted him *patriotic music* Sir Nico

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kangaroo-sniper-imagine · 3 years

Text

Scout, Demo, and Sniper with inexperienced reader

- i combined these two cuz they both had the Aussie on them. NS/FW stufff ahead so caution -

Scout

Jeremy may act like he’s God’s gift to women, but let’s be honest, aside from some trysts and a girlfriend he had for three weeks in the tenth grade, homeboy ain’t got no experience either

He wants so badly to be a good boyfriend! He tries so hard to be nice and to be a gentleman to you, often times putting on such a fake persona that you have to remind him that you like Jeremy because he’s a loud, fast-talking jack ass from south Boston. Not those words exactly, but you get the idea

Tries the classic dates like fancy restaurants and romantic movies, but chances are if you liked Jeremy enough to date him, you probably hate that stuff too. Good dates are outing to parks, watching action movies, going to bars, etc. fun, not stuffy dates.

NS/FW

Jeremy has SOME idea of what he’s doing, but its more so getting himself off than trying to get his partner off. It takes some re-learning on his part to figure out that sex is supposed to be mutually fun. If he suck at it, tell him! Boy needs to learn!

He gets that you have almost no experience, and that just adds to the pressure for him; he’s already so insecure and this is just another are he has the potential to disappoint you in. First time together is gonna be real awkward and slow, as neither of you wanna fuck up

After the two of you get more experienced with each other, oooooooooh boy, Jeremy is insatiable. Partially because he’s never had a steady s/o who lived in the same building as him. He is always dtf; like, come in while he’s regaining one of his (dramatized) wins, give him a “look” and he’ll stop talking mid-sentence and follows you to wherever for a quickie

Jeremy’s favorite position is probably doggy style. He gets to give all his love and also gets to hide his face of he starts to feel embarrassed; its easier to have the macho sex god persona if his partner can’t see his face all flushed and pinched in concentration

Demo

Tavish has had plenty of date mates, but when he starts his relationship with you and learns that he is your first ever boyfriend? Fuck, it might as well be his first relationship too (the Scotsman is soft lbr). He knows that each relationship is different from another, even minusculy, but since you have no reference point, he’s gonna start from square one and work your way up to normal relationship things

By that I mean this man has, like, an itinerary. Week one: holding hands, Week two: eating meals together, etc. Tav is THOROUGH! He wants you doing lame couple things and wants you to be comfortable with them asap. He’s like one of those high school girls who are like “we need to be dating for six months before we can kiss.” It’s not that he isn’t ready, he just wants to make sure you are

Dates with him are weird and varied. One night he takes you to a nice bar, the next date is helping him set off about to expire explosives. A very lovely evening of him playing piano with you, then it’s Loch Ness Monster hunting. Suffice to say that your dates are never boring.

NS/FW

Tavish sets the relationship at a slow pace so that you’ll feel comfortable; introducing sex into the relationship is no different. He’ll let you know when he’s comfortable with it and is fine waiting until you are ready for it and won’t do jack shit without your permission.

When you are ready, be prepared for the cheesiest seduction ever. You’ll walk into Tavish’s room one day and there’s a trail of rose petals leading to the bed where the Scotsman lays, naked, with a rose between his teeth and a heart shaped pillow covering his junk; candles EVERYWHERE. It takes every ounce of willpower not to laugh (plz laugh, Tavish is trying so hard to make you relax before doing the do)

Despite the fact that the man likes his drink, Tavish refuses to fuck drunk. Sleeping with you is an honor, and he 1. Doesn’t wanna not remember it, 2. Doesn’t want to do something dumb while he’s drunk and hurt you, 3. Doesn’t wanna do something embarrassing in front of the gang while trying to seduce you. He’s a good boy who knows better

Sniper

Mick has had plenty of short term date mates, considering his job keeps him moving around. Before Teufort, he never bothered trying to keep a serious relationship because he would be gone by the end of the month. Then our favorite Aussie meets YOU and the whole game plan changed. He couldn’t be a “love ‘em and leave ‘em” man anymore, and he didn’t want to be with you. You’re special

Mick’s not 100% sure exactly what dating him would entail. You two go out to the local bar to drink, you spend your meals and down time together, you haven’t moved into the truck camper yet but you sure do spend a ton of nights there. Mick doesn’t have domestic experience so he tries to do what his parents do and what they told him to do, so it’s a lot of laundry together, movie nights at the local drive-in, reading the same book and talking about it, etc. Mick skipped right into the “old married life” kind of relationship

The Aussie is happy to take things slow with you, considering THIS kind of relationship is new to him too. You’re a special person the Mick wants to keep in his life

NS/FW

BAAAAAAAAAAAAAABES, I KNOW everyone’s like “oh, Sniper is an awkward loner with social issues” but listen darlings; Mick is a businessman, he used to have to talk to tins of people to get jobs; had to have connections, had to be charismatic, he to be willing to hang out in seedy bars and joints to eat gigs. What I’m saying is, aside from Spy, Sniper is probably the one who can manipulate the room to his advantage best, cuz he’s been doing it since he started. The point of this rant is to say SNIPER CAN GET IT! Homeboy’s got tail game! You cannot change my mind! He’s probably had more quickies than a rabbit hutch; he’s attractive as hell and knows how to talk to people to get what he wants and how to clock people at the bar who wants to get laid too! He came, he saw, he didn’t call he next morning. Okay end of rant and back to the original purpose of this point

So! Mick has plenty of sexual experience, and rather than see you as some sort of delicate flower, he sees it more as an opportunity to let you experiment ON him. Whatever you wanna try, he’s done it like 9 times. You wanna do some nasty shit? Okie dokie than, he’ll get the “Camper’s a-rocking, don’t come a-knocking” sign up and clear his schedule. Aussie knows what he’s doing

Plz bring up riding to this man, he’ll fucking propose to you. He thinks riding is the best position because he has all the access to your fun areas, he’s able to bury his face into your chest or neck, and its minimal movement for him

#tf scout x reader #tf2 demoman x reader #tf2 sniper x reader #team fortress 2 x reader #tf2 x reader #tf2 scout #tf2 demoman #tf2 sniper #tea fortress 2 #tf2

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charincharge · 4 years

Text

Cruel Summer, Part 25

cruel summer masterlist

AN: This is the final chapter. Just an epilogue after this. Our Cruel Summer has come to an end (90k words later). I just wanted to thank everyone so much again for spending time reading, commenting, and messaging about this story. When I first started writing it in April, I had no idea I would come to get to know so many of you, and it’s been the most rewarding thing to be part of a fandom again. Taylor Swift hearts to all of you. xo.

Aelin doesn’t think she’s ever been this hung over, or this confused. The ghost of Rowan’s lips caresses her forehead as she lies down on the couch, sprawled in front of the television to watch some obstacle course challenge show that Dorian enjoys heckling.

After Rowan fled her house – yes, fled – she immediately went in search of her parents to find out what they’d been meeting with him about, but she received absolutely nothing in return.

“If Rowan wants to discuss it with you, I’m sure he will,” Rhoe had said with a traitorous, all too-knowing smirk.

Aelin wants to throttle him. She loves her dad, but she’s far too twisted up in her own emotions to be sated by his logical non-answer. Meanwhile, her mother isn’t even on the premises to be questioned. Hiding away in meetings, like a coward. She wants to know so badly.

She contemplates texting Rowan to ask. After all, he clearly opened up their channel of communications again with that picture of the two of them… right? But she can’t help but think her dad is right. If Rowan wanted to tell her what they talked about he would. The question is, what the hell could her parents want to talk to Rowan alone about? What kind of topic required a one-on-one meeting with one of their employees?

Aelin tries to relax, even nap for a bit, but anxiety plagues her brain. The not knowing is keeping her stomach in knots. So, when Dorian departs for the afternoon with a reassuring arm squeeze, Aelin retreats to her safe spot – the music room.

The late afternoon sun splays its warm rays across the piano, tendrils of sunlight curling around her and slowly helping dissipate her hangover. With a deep breath, Aelin spreads her fingers and takes off. She warms up with scales, trailing up and down the keys with her expert touch. She segues into one of her favorite pieces – Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven. The pulsing methodical rhythm of the left hand keeps her centered as the dark somber tones float through the room.

The piece is sad, and it pierces her to the core. She lets her emotions flood through her hands as she tries to play out her complicated feelings for Rowan.

As she reaches the third movement, she lets her anxiety out into the frantic, technical workout for her fingers. The frenetic pace matches her rapid heartbeat, the worry and stress and heartbreak of the last few days taking over. She wants to cry. She wants to scream. She wants to let everything out. She gives into the heartache she feels, the stress from hiding, the shame of letting him go, the loneliness of being without him. It all comes pouring out in droves. She’s overwhelmed with her feelings. She knew she was sad, and to let it all out like this makes her feel like she’s bleeding out. She lets the music speak for her. And it speaks loudly.

As the final notes ring out, applause comes from behind her, and she gasps, startled by the intrusion.

“Sorry,” Rhoe apologizes, squeezing Aelin’s shoulders gently. “You were in the zone, huh?” he asks, and Aelin shrugs, still breathing hard from the musical marathon she just ran.

“Yeah,” she breathes heavily. “That was intense.”

“Maybe something lighter next?” Rhoe suggests, and Aelin smiles as her fingers take off at lightning speed for her favorite Mozart concerto. The complex finger work distracts her from her feelings momentarily as she performs for her dad.

When she turns around again, she’s surprised to see her dad has been joined by the rest of her family – her mom, Aedion, Lysandra, Evie and Gavin clap thunderously, appreciating her performance. She starts to stand to see if she can finally question her mom, but she’s interrupted as Gavin sprints toward the music bench, climbing next to her in the clumsy way only a five-year-old can.

“I wanna learn!” he says, looking up at her with his widest blue green eyes.

“You do?” she says, chuckling softly. He nods excitedly, and she smiles at her nephew’s enthusiasm.

Aelin’s family quickly disperses, her mom shouting out that dinner will be ready in an hour, but Aelin is entranced by her nephew’s gleeful smile.

“Teach me!” he demands happily.

“I think that piece might be a little too hard,” she explains, while placing his little fingers on the proper keys. “But, I think I know the perfect one…”

She begins showing him the middle C note and moves his thumb in a rhythmic pattern from there. She shows him the notes an octave higher, slowly performing the easy back and forth of the base.

“Like this?” he asks, starting to move his hands in time with hers.

“Just like that,” she says. He fumbles the keys a few times, and Aelin places her fingers over his to help, but soon enough he manages the bass line easily. Aelin can’t help but smile, her heart swelling with pride at how pleased Gavin looks with himself.

“Auntie Ae, look, I’m doing it!” he squeals, and she nods animatedly.

“Are you ready to turn it into a duet?” she asks, and Gavin crinkles his brow, suddenly looking very serious and so much like Aedion it takes Aelin out for a second.

“What’s a duet?” he asks thoughtfully, and Aelin tries her hardest to explain it in terms a five-year-old will understand.

“Well, you’ll keep playing your part that I just taught you,” she says, “And I’ll add a new part up here,” she says, wiggling her fingers over the higher keys. “And when you put it together, it makes the whole song.”

Gavin’s eyes get impossibly wide as she explains, until he’s practically vibrating on the bench next to her.

“You want to try?” she asks, and he shouts his enthusiasm loudly.

She lets Gavin start his part and play it two times through before coming in herself. She can’t help but sing along as she plays the jovial melody.

Heart and soul, I fell in love with you

Heart and soul, the way a fool would do, madly

Because you held me tight

And stole a kiss in the night

“There are WORDS?!” Gavin asks, incredulous, pausing his baseline.

Aelin nods and laughs, her heart lightening immensely as they start the second verse. The dark cloud of heartbreak that hung over her previous songs is notably gone, replaced with a much lighter one as she launches into the second verse.

Heart and soul, I begged to be adored

Lost control, and tumbled overboard, gladly

That magic night we kissed

There in the moon mist

Aelin’s cheeks flush as she helps Gavin pick up the pace of his playing. She looks down at her nephew with adoration. She suddenly feels so happy, she feels like she might float away, filled with the intoxicating glee. Her heart soars as she launches into the final verse.

But now I see, what one embrace can do

Look at me, it’s got me loving you madly

That little kiss you stole

Held all my heart and soul

Aelin is so caught up in her playing that she doesn’t even notice Aedion sit down on her other side and play the melody with her one last time, an octave above her. Aelin laughs loudly as Gavin’s mouth drops again.

“Daddy, you know this song?”

Aedion chuckles softly as they wrap up the song with a flourish.

“I remember when Nana Ashryver taught us how to first play Heart and Soul,” Aedion says. His shoulder leans gently int his sister’s. “You were even younger than Gavin.”

Aelin remembers it well. It was when she decided the music room was her favorite room.

“Look at you now,” Aedion says.

“Again, again!” Gavin chants from his spot on the bench, and Aelin and Aedion appease him, playing the song over and over until they’re all hoarse from singing too loud. Aelin is so happy she feels like her face hurts from smiling so much.

As they replay the song, Aelin trips up on the lyrics. Her voice cracks slightly as it hits her in a sudden flash. This feeling of happiness, the ease she feels at the piano, singing her heart out – it’s exactly how she feels when she’s with Rowan.

She never felt this way with Chaol. Never felt her heart pound against her ribs until they threatened to puncture her chest. Never missed him as soon as he was out of her sight. Never thought she would fall apart if she never saw him again. Never felt like she belonged with someone so fully.

When she and Chaol broke up, Aelin had forced herself to wallow – to play the part of the sad girl, but she realizes now that she’d never really felt that way. Each break up had been a relief, a small reprieve to the uncomfortable life she’d tried to shove herself into. It was just another thing she had lied to herself about.

“Oh my god,” Aelin laughs to herself as they wrap up their final run through of the song. She can’t believe how stupid she’s been. Truly, she’s an idiot.

An idiot who’s in love.

She wants to run and tell Rowan right now.

She loves him.

“Wash up for dinner, please!” Evalin shouts from the kitchen, interrupting her thought process, and Gavin sprints away, not bothering to give Aelin or Aedion another look.

“I see how it is,” Aelin laughs as she puts the piano lid down, covering the keys. Aedion gives her a pointed look. “What?” she asks, wiping at her face, in case she has a piece of long forgotten burrito attached to her cheek that no one told her about.

“We were summoned for cheer up Aelin duty, and we had to do practically nothing. Look at you,” he says. “You’re glowing. You’re not pregnant, are you?” he asks, suddenly concerned, and Aelin groans and shoves him away.

“You were summoned?” She can’t imagine her family knows why she’s been in a mood for the last two days. “By who?”

“Dad,” Aedion finally admits. “Want to tell me what’s going on?” He wraps his arm around her shoulders, and Aelin leans into her brother’s warm side.

“I broke up with Rowan.”

“Huh.”

Aelin extracts herself from under Aedion’s arm and pokes him. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” Aedion pauses. Aelin stares, but Aedion gives nothing up. “Nothing!” he insists. “I liked him.”

“You did?” Aelin asks, perplexed. That’s not how their last conversation about Rowan went. “What about that whole fucking the gardener bit?”

Aedion pinches his nose and looks regretful. “I slept alone for a whole week for that comment, and I knew as soon as it was out of my mouth that it was wrong,” Aedion confesses. “He makes you happy.”

“Yeah, he does,” Aelin laughs sadly.

“But, you’re…. okay?” Aedion asks, and Aelin nods.

“Better than okay.”

Aedion shrugs. “Well, okay, then.”

At dinner, Gavin spends the entire time telling the family about his new penchant for piano, and Aelin tells him she has a few more pieces he can learn if he wants.

“We’d pay you for lessons,” Lysandra adds, and Aelin pauses mid-bite.

“You would?”

Lysandra nods. “Of course. We tried to get a teacher for Evie, but she was ‘too mean,’” Lysandra says in air quotes.

Evie pouts. “She was! She stretched my hands too far and cut my nails down.”

“I would never,” Aelin says seriously, winking at her niece.

“Seriously,” Lysandra follows up. “Think about it. We paid the last girl $100 an hour.” She looks at Gavin. “Would you like that, Gav? To learn piano with Auntie Ae?”

Gavin’s whole face lights up, and he even stops shoving mozzarella into his mouth to cheer loudly. “Yeah!”

Aelin smiles again at her nephew. And then looks around the table. At her family. Filled with CEOs. A teacher is a far cry from that. Not exactly a high-powered job, but she can’t help but think how much she enjoyed playing with Gavin. She thinks she might really love it. Plus, she could do it anywhere. Like. In Terrasen. Where Rowan lives. She clears her throat and look at her mom.

“I think I might want to do that. To teach music.”

She pauses nervously as a small v forms between Evalin’s eyebrows. “Really?”

Aelin nods.

“I mean, I know it’s not the most glamorous job…” she trails off, watching her parents exchange silent glances. “But, I could start with private lessons while I work toward a teaching degree, and, I think I’d really love it.”

Evalin’s frown turns into a blinding smile as she nods at her daughter. “I think that’s a great idea.”

“You do?” Aelin asks, positively shocked at her mother’s warm reception. “Even though it’s not being on a charity board or working with you?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Evalin replies, slightly perturbed, but Aelin can’t help herself. Her mother has been trying to marry her off to the highest bidder since she was eighteen. “Do you think I’m that much of a snob?”

Aelin snorts, ignoring the way her mother angrily spears the tomato on her plate and continues.

“It might not be glamorous,” Evalin continues, “But teaching is one of the most noble professions. You know I’ve always supported funding arts education.”

Aelin pauses, wondering if her mom has more to add, but she doesn’t. The table switches topics to their schedule for the remaining three days before they leave. Aelin is blown away. She must be gaping, because Aedion squeezes her hand under the table comfortingly.

After dinner, Gavin immediately pulls Aelin back into the music room, wanting to start his lessons as soon as possible. Aelin is helpless against her nephew and plays with him until well after his bedtime. With every replay of Heart and Soul, Aelin feels her heart grow bigger, swelling with the feeling that went unidentified in her stomach for so many weeks.

By the time everyone leaves the house, Aelin feels like she’s going to explode, needing to talk to Rowan. To just blurt it out and tell him. But she knows that’s not exactly the right thing to put into a text. Instead, she gathers her strength and texts him a different question.

I know you asked for space, but can we talk tomorrow?

She types it quickly and then shuts her eyes quickly, as if she doesn’t look then it’ll prevent it from hurting when he doesn’t text back.

Her phone vibrates in her lap, and she garners the courage to crack an eye open and peek at his reply.

You really wanna know what your parents talked to me about, huh?

Aelin bites her lip, stopping the massive grin that threatens to take over her face. Her cheeks warm with a blush, realizing she’s texting with the man she loves.

I mean, yes, obviously. But this isn’t about that. I swear.

She holds her breath and waits again.

I’m busy during lunch, but I can stop by after work?

Aelin frowns. It’s not exactly the reply she wanted. And why would he be busy during lunch? Was he having lunch with someone else? Aelin’s heart pounds nervously. No, she needs to talk to him sooner than that. She thinks a full twenty-four hours of waiting might kill her.

But Aelin takes a deep breath, realizing that Rowan has put up with a lot more waiting for her than twenty-four hours. The least she can do is wait until he gets off work.

We’ll be at the park tomorrow. Find me when you finish your shift?

Rowan sends back two thumbs up emojis, and Aelin clutches the phone against her pounding chest.

Tomorrow she’s going to tell Rowan she loves him.

She falls asleep, comforted by that thought.

But when Aelin wakes up, she can’t help but groan. Rain splatters against her window, a soft grey overcast dampening her spirits as well as the ground outside.

The park still runs in the rain, but it’s absolutely no fun, since they close down any ride that could potentially be affected by the weather. Essentially, the only ride that’s open is the log flume, and Aelin knows her family won’t want to go to the park just for that.

She groans internally.

Of course this would happen.

Aelin paces around the kitchen with her coffee, hoping against all hopes that the rain will dissipate if she wills it to. But, instead of fading, the clouds darken even further, giving way to even heavier torrents.

She feels like a trapped animal.

Nothing distracts her – not playing the piano, not getting ready or putting on a full face of makeup. She’s so wound up, even a delicious lunch of her favorite potato salad and grilled chicken doesn’t help soothe her nerves.

By mid-afternoon, Aelin’s started counting down hours until Rowan’s work ends. Only four more hours. She grumbles, staring at the clock, hoping she can somehow speed up time.

“Aelin, sit down, you’re doing that anxious pacing again,” her dad chastises from behind his newspaper.

Aelin tries to pause, but she finds herself flicking her foot in tendus again, unable to still completely.

Her dad smiles softly. “Want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” Evalin asks, emerging from her office to refill her mug of coffee.

“Why Aelin looks so nervous today,” Rhoe laughs, and Evalin’s eyes widen in excitement.

“Oh, did Rowan tell you?” she begins, but Rhoe’s pointed stare cuts her off.

“Tell me what?” Aelin explodes, and Rhoe shakes his head and laughs softly again, hiding his face behind the paper. Evalin frowns again.

“Well, if he hasn’t told you, what are you so keyed up about?” Evalin sighs, as if she’s exasperated with her daughter. Aelin scoffs. No one is more exasperated with anyone at this moment than she is with her mother. Her secret keeping mother!

“I’m leaving!” Aelin growls, finally snapping. She doesn’t care that it’s raining out. She needs to see Rowan right now.

“Where are you going?” Evalin shouts out after her, but Aelin is already halfway out the door. “Aelin, take a jacket! You’re going to get soaked!”

She doesn’t pause to realize her mother’s parting comment was more than right as she stumbles along the wet sand. Rain soaks through her t-shirt and pelts down on her head, wetting her hair. By the time she makes it to Playland, she’s sure she looks like some kind of drowned animal. Her sneakers squeak loudly with each step, her toes filled with water, and she doesn’t even want to imagine what her face of makeup looks like.

But she doesn’t have time to think anything through. She’s a woman on a mission.

“Aelin!” a surprised voice says, definitely shocked by her rain-drenched appearance.

In a stroke of luck, Lorcan is seated at the admissions booth. “Rowan?” she pants, hoping the rest of her question is understood.

Lorcan frowns. “Not sure.”

“What do you mean not sure? Aren’t you in control of his schedule?” Aelin knows it would be wrong, but she feels like smacking Lorcan.

She sees him hide a tiny smile as he shrugs. “He’s pulling tarps off the rides,” Lorcan explains, pointing to the sun peeking through the clouds, the rain finally coming to a stop. “He could be anywhere.”

“Useless!” Aelin shouts, agitated, and Lorcan snorts loudly as he slaps a wristband onto her hand.

“Enjoy your search,” he snickers, and Aelin huffs as she stalks across the slick grass and puddles of mud to find Rowan.

Her shoes squelch with the newly acquired mud, and she struggles not to slip as she walks at a brisk pace through the park. For the first time in her life, Aelin regrets how large the park grounds are. She circles the entire place, with no Rowan in sight. On her second loop, she goes further into the park and walks by the bumper cars and the carousel, which have no tarps on them, and deduces that she must at least be in the right direction.

Through the light drizzle of rain, the sun finally starts to shine, and Aelin smiles as she watches a rainbow take shape over the park. Her eyes follow the colorful beams, watching as they curve down, all the way to the middle of the fair grounds. She holds her breath as she spots a bright silver blonde head of hair just beyond the rainbow. Her own personal pot of gold.

A similarly rain-soaked Rowan rolls up the sides of the eating tent and affixes them to the top methodically. Aelin barely has time to process his appearance before she picks up her pace and heads toward him, a smile stretched across her lips.

“Rowan!” she shouts, breaking into a jog.

Confused, Rowan glances over his shoulder, his eyes widening at the approaching girl. She knows she must look ridiculous, water-logged, eyes wild and beaming, but she can’t stop.

As she tries to increase the speed of her jog, her foot catches on a slick patch of grass, and Aelin shrieks loudly as she attempts to stop her skidding, but it’s no use. Aelin’s feet slide out from beneath her, and she closes her eyes tightly as she falls to the muddy ground with an unceremonious thud.

She groans, feeling the wetness soak through her shorts and underwear. She opens her eyes and realizes she’s skidded directly into a watery pool of mud.

“Aelin!” Rowan shouts, concerned. She lifts her head, laughing, as he approaches her with worry. “Are you okay?” he asks. His hands stretch out, and she takes them in hers, helping hoist herself off the ground. She shakes her head, her wet hair still stringy around her shoulders. This was not exactly the reunion she’d anticipated for them.

“I’m fine,” she laughs, trying to brush the clumps of mud from her ass and thighs. She crosses her arms over her chest self-consciously. She can’t believe this is how this is happening. But she can’t turn back. She’s here. And she’s no longer being a liar or a coward.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, wiping droplets of rain from his own hair, and Aelin takes a deep breath and centers herself.

“I told you I’d be at the park,” she says, and she watches as Rowan’s eyes crinkle in confusion.

“In the rain?” He pauses, looking her over. She doesn’t even want to think about what she looks like. She knows it’s a mess. “I just assumed—”

“I love you,” she blurts out, cutting him off.

It feels so good to say it, she barely notices Rowan’s soft lips parting in surprise. She’s not ready for him to reply, so she just keeps talking.

“I’m an idiot. And a liar. Of course I love you, Rowan.”

She can feel tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She knew she’d be emotional, but – gods, this is something else. She feels like she’s been possessed by some vulnerable alien. But that doesn’t stop her. She will get this out, even if it kills her.

“I knew it as soon as you kissed me that this wasn’t just for the summer. This is forever,” she barrels on as she points between the two of them. “And I know we have a lot of stuff to figure out, because we never talked about any of the logistics of anything, and I know that’s completely my fault because I was just… really at good at pretending like I didn’t have to,” she rambles, getting faster and faster as she logics her way into convincing Rowan to accept the possibility of a real relationship. “But I don’t want to leave. I’m going to teach piano, and I can do that anywhere. And I want to stay in Terrasen. With you.”

Aelin pauses, breathing hard. Her arms cross over her chest tighter, squeezing herself and acting as a defense shield against the thick silence between her and Rowan.

She looks at Rowan’s face. His eyes are still crinkled in confusion, and his lashes flutter as he blinks rapidly. His pursed lips haven’t moved since they first parted, and she can see the tension in his neck as he strains to breathe.

She can feel her heartbeat angrily thumping against her crossed arms, and she takes another deep breath.

“I really wish you’d say something,” she says quietly. “Anything.”

Rowan rubs at his face, covering his mouth, and she notices how tired he looks. “Well, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to move to Terrasen,” he says finally, and Aelin feels like a dagger has pierced her straight through the chest.

Oh Gods, she’s too late.

So this is what genuine heartbreak feels like. Aelin is so busy feeling wounded, she almost doesn’t hear the rest of Rowan’s sentence.

“…because I’m going to be living in Adarlan.”

Aelin looks up and is shocked to see Rowan’s green eyes twinkling as he reveals his smile from behind his hand.

“Wait, what?”

Aelin is so confused. Her head is spinning with all kinds of thoughts.

“I didn’t want to say anything to you until it was official,” Rowan says. “But, I’m going to be working for the Ashryver Corporation as an app developer. I interviewed at lunch, and they called about an hour ago to give me my official offer.”

The pieces start to click into place. “That’s what my mom wanted to talk to you about?”

He nods, and she watches as his ears turn pink as he stares her down.

“So, I shouldn’t move to Terrasen,” Aelin says slowly, and Rowan’s smile widens as he shakes his head. “Because you’ll be in Adarlan.” She takes another long breath. “Where I live.” He takes a step forward, and her breath hitches.

“Yes.”

“Rowan, they’re making your app?” she asks, and he nods but doesn’t smile. “That’s so amazing, you should be so proud of—"

“Say it again,” he whispers, cutting her off, and she watches his eyes darken. She wonders what he wants to hear for a second, thoughts bouncing around her brain as she’s assaulted by his scent as he hovers over her.

“Hm?” She can’t think straight as she tilts her head up towards his, his lips dangerously close to hers now.

“Say it again,” he repeats and wraps his arms around her waist, sliding his hands into the mud-caked back pockets of her shorts.

Oh.

Aelin grins and whispers back.

“I love you.”

His lips are on hers before she can finish her sentence, parted lips sliding onto her damp face as he pulls her closer. She snakes her arms around his neck and smiles against his mouth. Their kiss deepens, unencumbered by stress or worry for the first time all summer, and Aelin can’t stop herself from lifting herself up. Her legs spring off the squishy ground, and she wraps her legs around his waist, tugging him closer and closer, until she can feel his heart pounding against hers.

His lips are soft but demanding against hers, and they feel like coming home. She kisses him harder, his mouth pliable under hers.

Aelin doesn’t think she’s ever felt this happy ever.

As Rowan’s tongue swipes against hers, she clutches at him tighter. He leans her back, and she’s so consumed in the feeling of him against her that she barely notices that he’s placed her down on the closest table inside the eating tent. His hands drag upward and knot themselves into her wet hair, and she parts her lips further, breathing him in. She wants to live in this moment forever.

All too soon, Rowan finally pulls back. He pulls his wet hands from her hair and slides them to her cheeks. They’re cold against her flushed cheeks, warmed from his thorough kisses, and she can’t help but smile widely at him. His face reflects the same expression back at her. Two grinning idiots.

As if he can’t bear to apart from her for too long, Rowan leans in again, pecking a flurry of kisses all over her face – her cheeks and forehead and eyes, and finally one last lingering kiss on her lips.

“I love you,” Aelin says again. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to stop saying it.

“I love you, too,” Rowan says, his voice hoarse and breathy.

Rowan ducks his head, as if to kiss her again, but they’re interrupted by a loud whistle. They look over their shoulders, and see a frowning Lorcan, but there’s no real ire in his expression.

“If you two are done making out on my table, Rowan, can you head to the ticket booth to do your job?” Lorcan rests his hands on his hips, trying his very hardest to look annoyed, but Aelin can see the barest of smiles threatening to break through.

“Yes sir,” Rowan answers with a nod. He looks at Aelin as she hops off the table and links her arm with his, leaning into his side. He immediately wraps his arm around her shoulders, neither of them anxious to let the other go. “What are you going to do with the rest of your afternoon?” he asks.

“Anxious to get rid of me that soon?” she snorts.

Rowan looks shocked. “No! Of course not, I just meant—”

Aelin laughs and kisses his hand, which is tangled with hers. “I know, I’m kidding.” She pauses. “I thought I could hang out with you until your shift is done?” she asks nervously. “And then, we can go back to my house and tell my parents about us.”

Rowan’s smile nearly blinds her. “Yeah?” He squeezes her hand.

“Yeah,” she smiles back.

“And then I should shower. Because I’m covered in mud,” Aelin snorts, and Rowan laughs loudly and tugs her closer.

“I love you, even covered in mud,” he says.

“Yeah?” she asks, looking up at him, eyes wide in wonder. How could she have kept herself from feeling this all summer?

“Oh yeah,” he laughs, brushing a clump of mud from her shorts.

Because it’s a slow park day, Rowan is blessed to be the only one taking tickets, which means that Aelin can sit next to him, as close as she wants. His thumb rubs up and down the back of her soft skin, and Aelin only holds his hand tighter as they make their way to the booth. She’s not letting go of him any time soon.

Rowan pauses a few feet away from admissions, and his hand becomes a vice grip around hers.

“What?” Aelin leans into his side further, her chin resting against his arm.

“Uh…” he starts, sounding nervous, his eyes flicking from Aelin out to the parking lot.

“Oh!” Aelin is shocked to see her entire family, walking toward them.

Rowan starts to remove his hand from hers, but Aelin shakes her head and holds it tighter.

“Are you sure?” Rowan asks, his eyes locked on Aedion for some reason. “I wasn’t anticipating telling your brother about us until we were married and I was a more permanent fixture.”

Aelin’s mouth drops. “Aedion likes you.”

Rowan shakes his head. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”

“What have you heard?” Aelin asks, curious.

Rowan groans. “I may have overheard a conversation where he… wasn’t so enthused about our relationship.”

Aelin freezes and stares at him. “You came that night. To pick me up from Aedion’s.”

Rowan nods, grimacing slightly as he tracks Aelin’s approaching family, nearly to the entrance now.

“And you left…”

Rowan laughs, but it sounds pained. “And I’m now remembering all the reasons we didn’t tell your parents in the first place.” He pauses. “Maybe we should keep this a secret for a little longer.”

Aelin stops them, pulling him so he’s facing her and looking away from her family. “Rowan,” she begins emphatically. “What Aedion said was horrible, and if I’d known that you heard it, I would have told you a lot sooner that he didn’t mean it. But even if he did, it doesn’t matter. Because I want to be with you. Because you’re so much better than all of them. You’ve worked so hard for everything you have, and you’re so incredibly talented and kind and real. And I love you.”

Rowan looks like he wants to protest, but he begrudgingly releases a small, “Fine.”

Aelin is so taken with his acceptance that she can’t resist wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him again. He melts into her, arms locked around each other in a tight embrace, until they hear a throat clearing beside them.

“Well, well, well… what do we have here?” Aedion’s low voice jokes, and despite Rowan stiffening beneath her, Aelin presses one more kiss to his lips as she flicks off her brother. Aedion cackles loudly.

“Aelin!” her mother cries out. She sounds so horrified and shocked, that Aelin can’t help but finally pull away to explain herself. “You’re covered in mud!” her mother chastises, and Aelin cannot believe that her mom just walked up to her kissing Rowan, and that is what she has to say.

“I fell?” Aelin says by way of explanation. Evalin shakes her head disapprovingly, and Aelin realizes that there are some things her mom will always care about – like her appearance, and being polite, and manners. But, apparently, Aelin is free to live her life the way she wants to, and somehow that realization is worth everything.

“Rowan,” Evalin says with a smile, ignoring the flaming blush crawling up his cheeks and ears. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

Rowan smiles bashfully and tucks his chin into his chest. “Yes, ma’am.”

Rhoe leans in conspiratorially. “Make sure you counter offer their salary. They’ll lowball you every time.”

Evalin looks positively offended at her husband’s comment. “We would never! We value all our employees and pay them very fairly,” she says, and Rhoe snickers again, wrapping his arms around his wife.

Aelin can’t believe that no one has commented on her tongue being shoved down Rowan’s throat mere minutes ago. And she’s even more surprised when Evalin tells Rowan he should come over for a celebratory dinner after work.

“I’d love to,” he accepts with a shy smile, and Aelin can’t resist kissing him again. This time on his shoulder.

Surprisingly, it’s Gavin who is the first to speak up.

“Auntie Ae, did you just kiss Rowan?” His little face crinkles in confusion. He has a moment of understanding, and his eyes widen with excitement. “Is Rowan going to be my Uncle?”

She’s not sure how to answer, and she can feel her cheeks warming under her family’s scrutiny, smiles hidden into each other’s shoulders as Aelin struggles with how to answer her nephew.

“Probably,” Rowan says with a shrug as Aelin answers, “Yes.”

“Probably?” Aelin gapes at him as Rowan gapes right back, repeating her words at her. “YES?!”

Aedion laughs loudly as he scoops Gavin into his arms. “Do you think they’ve always been this dysfunctional?” He looks at the couple stammering and blushing in front of him and then back to the small child in his arms. Gavin, of course, doesn’t know what his father means, but nods seriously regardless. “Let’s go get some cotton candy.”

Gavin shouts his affirmations, sprinting into the park, the rest of the family following close behind. No one comments when Aelin takes a seat next to Rowan in the ticket booth, but Rhoe winks at his daughter.

Aelin is grateful for the slow trickle of patrons, leaning over to kiss Rowan whenever she feels like it.

By the time Rowan’s shift ends, she can feel her lips starting to chap with how often they’ve been attached to his, but she can’t bring herself to care at all.

Aelin is reluctant to leave Rowan’s side when they get back to her house, but she knows she really does need to shower. She still has dried patches of mud on her legs, and her hair is a tangled stringy mess.

She showers as quickly as she can, and when she returns downstairs she’s shocked to see Rowan laughing with her entire family, as if he’s fit there the whole time. She doesn’t know what she was ever worried about. Everything seems so stupid now, looking back. How much pain she caused them both for absolutely nothing. Because of her own stupid insecurities. Because of her need for her parents’ approval. She’s so incredibly grateful Rowan is as forgiving as he is. She’s not sure she would have been as kind to herself.

Her mood lifts completely as Rowan smiles brightly when he spots her, freshly showered and in clean clothes.

“So, how long has this been going on?” Evalin finally asks, of course, just as Aelin takes a sip of her wine. Aelin splutters, coughing wildly as she chokes on the alcohol, and she glares at Rowan, who smirks beside her, completely unaffected as he rubs her back.

“When did I catch you climbing out of Aelin’s window again?” Lysandra asks Rowan nonchalantly, and then it’s Rowan’s turn to choke. ��Must have been back in June…”

“Oh Gods,” Rowan begins to apologize to Aelin’s parents, who are resisting laughing themselves.

“I saw him only about two weeks of being here, I think,” Rhoe finally pipes up. “He didn’t even see me on the patio.”

Rowan’s face is beet red as he tries to hide it in Aelin’s shoulder, and she can feel herself reddening, too. This is a nightmare. But the best kind.

She leans into Rowan reassuringly and smiles when she feels his lips brush across the top of her head.

After dinner, Rowan politely thanks her parents, and asks Aelin if she wants to go out to the beach to stargaze. Aelin nods enthusiastically, taking his hand and letting him drag her out to the edge of the sand. She pulls the oversized pool chaise and leans it all the way back, motioning for Rowan to sit.

He does, and she climbs onto his lap, relishing the way his arms immediately circle her and pull her close. Because that’s something he can do now, even in sight of her parents. She leans her head against his chest and sighs happily.

“I’m sorry,” Aelin whispers.

“For what?” he asks, and Aelin tilts her head up, brushing her lips against his stubble as she continues.

“Everything.” She laughs. “If you’d told me I was too late, I would have accepted it, you know. I put you through hell this summer.”

Rowan laughs softly and pulls her closer. “If this is hell, I think I’m doing okay.” He pauses and looks at the sky. “I don’t’ know if you can understand this, but… I’ve never quite felt like I was good enough. The first time I stepped into this house, I’ve never been more terrified of anything before. The level of inadequacy…” He laughs at himself. “I was so afraid I was going to fuck this whole thing up. My job. My life, pretty much.” He pauses again, thinking hard. Aelin wants to interrupt, but she lets him finish. It’s so rare that Rowan opens up about anything. And she wants to hear every single word of his inner most thoughts. “But, you changed that. Tonight, I sat with your parents and I honestly thought we’d be talking about my job, but all we talked about was you. They wanted to know why we kept it a secret. Because they couldn’t fathom us thinking they wouldn’t approve of me. And I’ve never felt like I belonged more. I belong with you.” She relishes in his words and nods. She feels the exact same way. And she tells him as much.

They sit together, staring at the sky for a while, kissing occasionally, happy to just be, until Rowan’s phone starts buzzing in his pocket.

“Sorry,” he apologizes as he pulls it out. He snorts and shows Aelin the text from Manon.

U ALIVE?!

He leans in and kisses Aelin. She’s sure it’s supposed to be a quick kiss, but she can’t resist deepening it. She smiles against his lips as she sees the camera flash go off behind her closed lids.

He sends the picture of them smiling into each other’s mouths as a text reply to Manon, who immediately replies with a vomit emoji.

GROSS.

“You do belong,” Aelin says, and Rowan smiles softly again. She’ll tell him again and again if that’s what it takes.

“So, Uncle Rowan, huh?” he teases her, chuckling as he slides his phone back into his shorts, and Aelin shoots him an uncomfortable glance.

“Yes,” she replies, and she can’t help but smile as Rowan leans in and kisses her again.

If this is the beginning of forever, she’ll take it.

THE END

~*~*~*~

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#rowaelin #aelin x rowan #cruel summer au #amusement park au #charincharge writes #throne of glass #tog fanfic

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hogarthwrites · 3 years

Text

house sitting for two chapter 8

previous chapter

next chapter

pairing: Sam Drake/Reader (m/f)

genre: smut, slow romance, mutual pining

warnings: graphic sex

words: 2,720

summary:

You and Sam go to his father's wedding after he decided to go out of curiosity. Things don't go as planned and Sam starts questioning something that has been haunting him ever since he was a kid.

note:

a lot going on in this chapter phew. also im really confused at what chapter im at on tumblr lol

song recc: Fooled Around and Fell in Love - Elvin Bishop

Part of you was miserable Sam didn't hear your confession, but another part was glad. You realised you were in love with him and it was killing you inside. It was something you wanted to shout out and tell everyone, but you didn't even have the courage to tell him how you felt.

You felt stupid in your dress, wishing badly that the ceremony won't take too long. Sam shared your sentiment, but he was quiet for the most part. Sam seemed jittery in his suit, constantly fixing his cuffs and his bow.

“Do I look okay?” He asked you as soon as he parked his truck.

“You look very handsome,” you took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

He nodded nervously. “No turning back.”

Frank and Lorraine definitely splurged on the wedding as every row of chairs were accompanied by so many flowers in white and baby pink, a colour you noticed Lorraine probably really loved.

Sam wanted to disappear in that moment, noticing stares from strangers. Is that his son? I didn’t know he had a son. This was a mistake. He wanted to turn around and leave.

“Sam!” Nathan called.

“Finally a familiar face,” Sam gave his little brother a hug. “What are we doing here, Nathan?”

Nathan looked around. “I don’t know. I haven’t even seen Dad.” He looked at you. “Hey, how’ve you been? I didn’t realise you two were together now.”

“I’m just Sam’s emotional support person,” you smiled. “Where’s Elena?”

He pointed to where Elena was sitting with Cassie near the back. “We got seated over there. I’m pretty sure that’s where us undecided are.”

“Thanks, Nate,” you gave him a hug. “I’ll leave you two.”

Sam took your hand before you left and gave it a squeeze. He still looked really nervous despite Nathan being there, and you gave his hand a squeeze back. It’ll be okay.

“Already?!” Elena pointed at the ring on your finger.

“Oh, god, no,” you quickly covered the ring with your hand. “It’s a long story. Sam wants me to act like his fiance for the weekend.”

“Okay,” she dragged the word on. “Jesus, that ring looks expensive.”

“I know, right? Wonder why he had it in the first place.”

You looked back at the entrance where Sam and Nathan were still standing, quietly talking. Sam had an intense look on his face, while Nathan looked worried. You hoped they were okay.

“Sam, please don’t do anything too rash,” Nathan muttered.

“Who said I was planning on doing anything? I just wanna see how this wedding’s gonna go,” Sam retorted. “Between you and me, I think she could do so much better.”

“They’re probably happy, Sam.”

“Okay,” he laughed dryly.

“Let’s just give him a chance just this one time. I barely knew the man,” Nathan pleaded.

“Exactly. You barely know him,” Sam nudged his chest with his finger. “Don’t you remember he just left us to fend for ourselves?”

“Yeah,” Nathan rubbed the back of his neck. “He probably had his reasons.”

“More like stupid excuses,” Sam rolled his eyes. “Let’s just get through this day.”

Sam took your hand when he got to his seat and he kind of slunk in his seat, trying to hide from curious eyes. He suddenly started patting down his pockets.

“Sam, are you okay?” You asked.

“Where is it…?” He muttered. “Oh here,” he took out a box of cigarettes.

Frank showed up near the altar. It was only then you realised how tall he was. Sam got his eyes and his nose; he was almost like a clone of his father, and he hated it.

“You think this place has a DJ when you book it?” He whispered.

“Why does it matter?” You giggled.

He shrugged.

A soft piano and cello rendition of Pachelbel’s Canon in D started playing and silence fell over all the guests. One by one the bridesmaids and groomsmen walked down the aisle. You felt Sam’s hand tighten around yours and you looked back at him.

Lorraine looked stunning in a wedding gown fit for a princess. Her hair was put up and decorated with flowers, the trail of her veil following her as she walked. She was crying as she looked at Frank.

You glanced down at the ring on your finger. It was fake and despite not believing in marriage, you let yourself imagine walking down the aisle yourself. Would Sam be waiting for you at the altar, you wondered. He’s always made it clear he didn’t want to settle. Maybe it was for the best.

The ceremony was standard with Frank and Lorraine telling each other their vows and repeating after the priest. Sam couldn’t take it. His leg was bouncing and he had taken out his lighter, running his thumb over the engraved “76” on it. He was wishing he was in a Panamanian prison again instead.

In the middle of it all, Cassie had turned back to stare at you and Sam, her big brown eyes curiously looking over the lighter. Sam plucked a flower nearby and gave it to her and she smiled, calming his nerves a bit.

The reception inside was rustic with bouquets of flowers on every table and every seat was covered with flowers. It was lit with warm lights and there was space for dancing in the middle.

You were all seated at the same table where you all watched the newly weds take their places at a separate table on a platform. They were lost in conversation, definitely gushing over each other and it made Sam sick.

“I didn’t realise she was so…” Nathan narrowed his eyes. “So young.”

“We haven’t even gotten a chance to talk to them,” Elena sounded disappointed.

“He invited you and he hasn’t even entertained you,” Sam scoffed. “Some father.”

“At least we have free food,” Nathan shrugged. “We’re flying out again tomorrow morning so I hope I can at least talk to him for a second.”

“You’re not staying?” You asked.

“Nah. We’re picking up our new puppy soon so we wanna get ready for that.”

“Puppy!” Cassie ran to Sam, who sat her on his lap. “Sam, come visit when we have a puppy.”

“Of course I’ll visit, peanut,” Sam ruffled her hair. “What are you naming it?”

“Doggy."

“No,” Nathan objected. “No. We are not naming it Doggy.”

Elena giggled then took your hand. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you here. I can’t even tell if Nate and Sam are related to anyone else here.”

“Insane how he just came out of nowhere,” you glanced at Frank who was feeding Lorraine a forkful of cake.

“He’s their father though,” she looked at Sam. “I still can’t wrap my head around how similar they look.”

“Just don’t tell him.”

A band came up on the stage and announced that anyone who wanted to dance was allowed to get up on the dance floor. Frank had led Lorraine and they started dancing together.

“Can you believe Frank? She’s probably younger than his sons,” you heard an elderly lady say from the table next to yours.

“He couldn't find someone his own age,” another woman relied.

“Do you think she's only after his money?”

“Frank doesn't have money,” they both laughed.

Sam stood up suddenly and you watched as he walked to the door. He gestured for you to follow him and you excused yourself from the table.

He didn't say anything as he took your hand and led you to the rows of wine casks, away from everyone else.

“What's going on?” You asked and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight to his chest.

“Just…” He whispered. “Just hold me.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your head on his chest. You didn't know how long you stood there in his arms, but nothing else mattered. It almost made you laugh thinking about how different your intimacy with Sam was now. A year ago you would've hooked up in some closer and that was it.

He began to move in a slow dance with you, following the beat of the muffled song coming from inside. You were on cloud nine, your heart dancing in your chest as his arms tightened around your waist.

I fooled around and fell in love…

The world seemed to stop and all that mattered was Sam. It was then that you knew that you were hopelessly, utterly in love with him. You didn’t want that moment to end and even though the song had ended, you still held onto each other in a silent slow dance.

“Sam,” you said quietly and he hummed in response. “There's something I wanna tell you.”

“What is it?” He looked at you as if he couldn't believe you were actually there. It was the same way he did on the hammock.

“You're so important to me,” you started and he tucked your hair behind your ear. “There's something I realised and I think…” This was it. No turning back. “I think I l–”

“There you are!” Frank’s voice bellowed, surprisingly both of you. “I've been looking for you, Sammy boy.”

Sam pulled away and glared at Frank. “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to apologise the other night,” Frank took a few steps towards Sam, who tensed.

“Oh trust me, the other night was the least shitty thing you've done,” he retorted. “I can't believe I ever came here thinking things would be different.”

“I know I was a terrible father–”

“ Huge understatement.”

“But I want to make things right,” Frank put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Cass was gone and I didn't know what to do.”

“You keep her out of this,” Sam pulled away. “You never loved her.”

“Samuel,” Frank sighed. “It was just a bad time.”

“So you turned to alcohol and gambling then took it out on Mom?”

Sam was fuming and you put a hand on his arm in an attempt to comfort him. You'd never seem him this irate before and you never realised how scary Sam could be.

“You're not my father, Frank,” Sam pointed at him. “I thought I could forget all the bullshit you did but I don't have any obligation to forgive you.”

“Now you're just overreacting, Samuel. It's the past. I've changed and Cass has been dead for decades. Let’s just forget about the past, huh?”

You didn't process what had happened at first. All you knew was that Frank was suddenly on the ground with a bloody nose while Sam stood above him.

“Don't talk about my mother,” he said in a threateningly low voice.

“What the hell is happening?” Lorraine appeared from inside the ballroom, followed by Nathan, Elena, and a bunch of guests. She ran to Frank to help him up.

“You're just like her,” Frank chuckled darkly, wiping off the blood dripping from his nose with the back of his hand. “So fucking stubborn.”

Nathan quickly made his way between the two men and you tried to hold Sam back.

“Sam, please,” he held up his hand. “Calm down.”

“At least one of you has common sense,” Frank sneered. “I guess I raised one of you right.”

Nathan looked at him in disbelief. “I barely know you.”

“Come on, I'm your father, remember? Let's get to know each other again. I got you that book set when you were five.”

“No,” Nathan frowned as he recalled his memories. “That was Mom.”

“Frank, please ,” Lorraine tugged at his arm. “Not today.”

Her protests were unheard as Frank pulled away and moved closer to Nathan.

“Where do you think she got the money?” Frank gave a mocking smirk. “I paid for everything because her research didn't pay enough. Useless job she had.”

This time it was Nathan who punched him, giving him a rather nasty black eye. He looked shocked at what he did, but Sam was proud.

“Let's go,” Nathan grabbed Sam by the shoulder and walked out.

Nathan wasn’t angry when you all got back to Sam’s apartment, instead he was defeated and disappointed. Elena made him a cup of coffee and he sat there staring into it.

You sat at the table with Cassie in your lap. She seemed worried and you assured her she did nothing wrong and that her dad was going to be fine.

Sam was outside smoking. No doubt he probably already went through the pack already. He blamed himself for going, but punching that asshole made him feel good. He had repressed all his anger and resentment towards his father since he was 12 and to finally confront him felt weird.

He then thought of you and suddenly he was afraid. As a kid, people always said he reminded them of his father, but he began to wonder if it was just looks or was he like his father? He was never the type to commit to anyone and it really didn’t matter to him whether he broke someone’s heart or not, but with you it felt different. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt you the way his father had hurt Cassandra.

Sam wouldn't look at you as he got back to the apartment, but he did sit down next to Nathan and Elena.

“He wasn't what I thought he'd be,” Nathan shook his head.

“You gave him a chance and he blew it,” Sam sighed.

“Ah, let's just forget about this weekend.”

“I agree.”

The brothers had a few beers together before Elena decided it was time to get back to their hotel. You were glad to be out of that wretched dress and you sat in bed, waiting for Sam to join you. You weren’t sure what you were expected, but after Sam changed out of his suit in favour of just his boxers, he climbed, said good night, and turned away.

What was that all about, you wondered. He was so affectionate just earlier, and now he wouldn’t even look at you. As much as it hurt, you didn’t want to confront him. After all, he did go through a lot today.

You settled in bed next to Sam, watching lights dance on the ceiling as cars occasionally drove by. Sam was breathing steadily, but he wasn’t snoring the way he usually was so you knew he was still awake. You wanted to move closer and to snuggle into him the way you always did, but at that moment, you were afraid to.

Instead, you turned away from him, trying to hold back tears. You couldn’t understand him and all you wanted was to know what his intentions with you were. Were you just someone he could use for pleasure then leave when it starts to get serious? You tried to hold back your tears. The last thing you wanted at that moment was for Sam to see you cry.

It was then you felt his arms around your waist and he pulled you close to him. He said nothing as he tenderly kissed your bare shoulder. You turned back and met his eyes in the moonlight. He looked rather sad but he still kissed you softly.

His kisses turned needy as his hands slipped under your tank top and he found your breasts. You moaned softly into his lips, feeling yourself get wet already.

You slipped out of your shorts and Sam from his boxers. He lifted your leg up over his as he began thrusting into you slowly, all the while he kept kissing you. You made love with him face to face, watching the way he reacted to you.

He didn’t have to say anything. It was sweet and it was tender; nothing like the way he had usually fucked you. You needed him and he needed you and your release felt good.

Sam was kissing your neck as he came inside you, pulling you close to him. He continued to hold you even after he’d pulled out and you could hear him, breathless.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered.

“Nothing,” he whispered back. “Can I just hold you for tonight? Before you leave tomorrow?”

“Okay, Sam,” you wrapped your arms around him. “Anything for you.”

#sam drake x reader #sam drake smut #sam drake #samuel drake #uncharted fanfiction

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