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auteurdelabre · 15 days

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SO MUCH TO LOSE - CHAPTER 9 - dark!Joel x f!Reader

Rating: 18+

Words: 7.4k

Chapter Tags: sexual tension, mentions of suggested abuse, girl-bonding, Joel being Joel, reader being oblivious.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER HERE

A/N: Y’ALL really came through with the comments! It made me stay up far too late typin’ away. But I’m glad to deliver this to my sweet audience and I hope you continue to bless me with your thoughts, reblogs and funny tags. Also lemme know if you have money and wanna give me some because your girl is BROKE y'all. BROKE.

Wednesday - my bb, my light, my sweet please never stop commenting on A03 because I read those like others read stories. I laugh, I cry, I emote. Never stop.

Also, two people should NEVER ride a horse when one’s in a saddle. It’s horrible for the horse! But this is fiction so y’all gotta forgive me for it, all right?

Lastly - Chapter 10 is.... gonna be memorable. That's all I'm sayin'.

SO MUCH TO LOSE: CHAPTER 9

You toss in bed a short while later, your mind going a mile a minute. You can't get the memory of Joel's furious face out of your mind. You can’t get Ellie’s sad eyes and her tensed shoulders to leave you. You can’t stop imagining what happened the second you left their home.

Part of you wanted to run right back to that house on Rancher Street and to beg Joel’s forgiveness for intruding. It was never your information to gather, not your place to pry. It was information never given willingly and for that you understand his fury. You understand it better than most.

But the other part of you, perhaps the part that had brought you to tears as you left had been the sight of Ellie's horror at your question. Of would Joel hurt her? Because in Ellie’s eyes you saw her own lingering question reflected.

Who hurt you?

It's too complicated to get into, too personal and that's why you think you feel this overwhelming sense of guilt. Because if you'd come home to the space you shared with someone else and heard them divulging your biggest secrets, your deepest wounds, you can't say you would have acted any different.

In fact, you might have been worse.

You turn your head, noting that it's only now starting to grow dark. You hadn't even bothered with dinner. Just pulled on your sleeping clothes and robe and thrown yourself into bed. You wanted to forget the hours before, wanted sleep to claim you and help you erase the day.

But you can’t. You just lay there twisted in your sheets, feeling like a stranger in your own body. You consider trying a warm shower when you hear a sudden thudding on your front door. This isn't Ellie or Jennifer. This is someone else and you have a pretty good idea who.

You think that you should just stay in bed, try to ignore the insistent pounding. But you need to pay for your mistake. This is your penance. You move down the stairs and to the front door opening it slowly.

Joel is standing on your porch, his broad frame looming over your door. His hands are on either side of the frame, braced as if he has to physically hold himself back.

When you pull the door open he juts his chin forward aggressively. He hasn't even bothered putting a jacket on, despite the weather. He's wearing just his green flannel and a scowl that makes you take a physical step back.

"Joel-"

"You think I'd hurt Ellie?" Joel says, teeth clenched. "Hurt my own fuckin' kid?"

You glance quickly over his shoulder noting that the street is deserted. Your street is one of the newer ones, less populated. It makes you nervous to see him looking so furious with no witnesses. But you answer him anyway.

"I don't know you at all," you tell him with a wince. "For all I knew you could have and I felt responsible."

His jaw is clenched tightly, ticking as he glares at you. You can see the fury building there in his frame and it makes you tremble. But you swallow, raising your spine and fixing him with what you hope is confidence.

"You yanked me around on patrols before," you remind him, swallowing your fear the best you can. "You're known for being ruthless with raiders. Most everyone is terrified of you. Is it really that much of a stretch?"

For the first time this evening you think that what you're saying registers with Joel because he blinks and some of that inky black in his gaze grows a soft brown.

"I've never hit you. Never come close." His voice is soft, almost admonished.

"No," you concede, "but you haven't exactly been gentle either."

Joel takes in the way you're cowering, the way you flinch when he shifts. He sobers, lowering his hands from your doorframe, pushing himself back from you.

"I'd never hurt a kid," he murmurs. “I’d never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it.”

He takes a moment to look at you, really look at you. You wonder if he sees the blotchy pink of your tear-stained face or the dark circles under your eyes from barely sleeping this week.

Joel's eyes narrow and without stepping closer to you it feels like he gets nearer when he speaks low and even.

"Your dad hurt you or somethin'?"

You're momentarily thrown by this question from Joel. He's never really asked you anything this personal before. You toy with the idea of closing the door on his face because he doesn’t deserve to know you this way. But you think of how vulnerable he must feel with you having all this information about his past, about his Sarah, and you answer.

"No," you tell him honestly. “My dad was amazing.”

"Your mom then?"

"No."

You cross your arms over your chest, indicating that the conversation is now at an end. You've shared as much as you are willing to at this point in time.

Joel looks equally stoic despite the nature of his questioning. His eyes drift over your body for the first time since he arrived at your doorstep, fixing on your sleep clothes and open robe before shooting back to your gaze. You pull your robe around your body, shivering at the cold draft coming in from the outside. Joel clears his throat.

"Ellie never should have told you all that about me," he says. "Wasn't her information to share."

"It was my fault. I never should have pressed her for details," you admit, talking to his shoulder. "It wasn't my place."

Joel exhales through his nose by way of reply. The two of you stand in quiet thought before you feel compelled to ask.

"Did Ellie get in a lot of trouble?"

When he doesn't answer you finally move your eyes from his shoulder to his face, surprised to see he's staring at you. He's not going to answer you, you realize. You barely know him and it's between him and his daughter.

You worry that you've messed everything up with Ellie. You feel like it's your fault that the fight happened at all. You think of how pleasant the afternoon had been with flower making and hair brushing. You hate to think of that going away. You swallow, gathering your nerves.

"Am I still allowed to teach her to bake?"

After a moment Joel sucks his teeth and nods shallowly.

You shift where you stand, one hand still on the doorknob. It's warm under your palm. If Joel was anyone else you'd invite him in for a hot drink given the weather. But as it's him you simply stand awkwardly across from him.

Joel peers into your face, gaze darting from each of your eyes to the next and back again. There's something about his stare that feels warm and heavy, something endless.

"Get some sleep."

He says it softly, a husky command with none of its usual bite. Then he's gone, giving you one last look before he's taking off down the stairs of your porch. You watch his tall frame head down your street, scissoring through the night air until he's nothing but mist.

And strangely the second you close the door you feel your feet taking you to your bed. You hear his voice quietly rumbling in your mind as you crawl under the covers.

Get some sleep.

Permission. A command. A hushed order that gives you the freedom to just sink into the warmth of your bed, to close your eyes and feel your breath even out.

And in seconds you're fast asleep.

///

Jennifer greets you when you open your door to leave for patrols the next day, crowding your doorframe.

"I thought we could walk to patrols together."

"Okay." You pull your jacket around you, bracing yourself.

You've known popular girls like Jennifer. The kind that roll their eyes and call you sensitive if you don't like how they treat you. You assume that this is what awaits you now.

"I'm so sorry for how I acted at the Bison."

You can’t say you were expecting that.

"I was trying to impress Joel," she continues. “Make it seem like we were all in on the joke together.”

When you see her standing there with her gloved hands clasped, looking apologetic you feel your animosity dropping from you like an unnecessary jacket.

"And I just... I never should have put you on the spot,” she continues. “I was just trying to go along with things, but that's not how friends act. My mama raised me better than that."

You know that what she's saying is important, but all you can focus on is that she just confirmed you two are friends. You have a real friend.

"S'okay," you offer quietly.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Did you get my cookies?"

"Yep, they were good."

You don't make it a habit to lie to friends but she looks so proud of herself that you can't help it. She beams, clearly proud of herself. She doesn’t need to know that they’re at the bottom of your waste bin.

"I'm so glad you liked them."

You want to say something kind to Jennifer, something that lets her know that you’ve forgiven her. Maybe its guilt from the fact that the cookies were barely touched. Whatever it is you scan her body, landing on her beautifully tailored jacket.

“I like your jacket,” you tell her, observing the dark green and black of the pattern and hood. “It’s really pretty.”

“Thanks, I made it myself,” she tells you proudly. “Barely any time at all.”

“Tell me you didn’t just make it just for this patrol,” you say fixing her with a look. Jennifer goes pink and starts giggling. “Jennifer!”

"Oh hush,” she says elbowing your side gently.

You can’t help but laugh at your friend as the two of you head off to patrols, chatting pleasantly as you make your way down the path to town. Jennifer is animated as always, her voice lilting and cheerful.

“Luke was really disappointed when you took off," she mentions with a sly smile and side eye. "I just know he's excited about today."

You flush, eyes on the ground, not saying anything. The truth is you're very excited to see Luke today. You want to learn more about him, see his likes and dislikes.

"Joel left soon after you did," Jennifer tells you with a frown after a few moments. "But I mean he came and had a drink with us so that has to count for something."

"Totally."

You've reached the fence and see three of the horses lined up, tied and waiting. Luke is patting Glimmer but he waves to you both as you approach. Your stomach flips pleasantly at the sight of his light hair falling into his eyes.

Chestnut whinnies gently as you approach, his long neck arching towards you. You smile as he ambles over to greet you the best he can.

"Hi boy," you whisper, gently patting down his long muzzle. "You having a good day? Huh?"

"Hiya Glimmer," Jennifer coos. You think that this must be her usual ride on her patrols.

"Morning Luke," you offer, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Mornin'." Luke’s smile is shy but earnest. "We missed ya this week."

"Yeah?"

He nods and you feel your face grow hot because you are sure Jennifer is staring at you both with a smirk. "Yeah, missed shootin’ with ya."

You busy yourself with running your hand over chestnuts flank, all the while trying not to read into things. Maybe Luke just likes having a fellow peer there?

Or maybe he likes me.

You have to admit to yourself that you have a crush even if crushes feel so adolescent in your mind after everything that happened to the world. But there’s something that makes you want to laugh at the way some things never change. Humans will continue to lust, even after the earth is swallowed by disease.

"Looks like a simple enough job," Jennifer observes looking at the few pieces of lumber strapped to the horses. Enough that it's good for building but not too heavy for them to carry. You go to reply when you hear a booming voice sounding out behind you.

"S'a fucking joke. Gettin' them all the way over here just to be one short."

Joel is arguing with Hank, one of the crew. Hank is an older with an under bite and bushy eyebrows. He fixes Joel with a formidable stare. He’s one of the few in Jackson City not intimidated by the elder Miller.

"I don't know what to tell ya Joel," Hank shrugs. "It's all we got."

"What's going on?" Jennifer asks, swanning over to the men. She stands close to Joel, her shoulder brushing against his. You notice as his dark eyes sweep over her face as he notices her.

"Only three horses available today," Hank explains to her. "Others were taken out."

"Why?"

"Heard about an intercepted shipment of medicine nearby. Sent a bunch of folks after it. Anyway, one of you'll have to double up."

Joel makes a huffing noise before shouldering past Hank and hauling himself up onto Midnight. He's made it very clear he won't be riding with anyone. That leaves you, Jennifer and Luke. In habit you go to grab Chestnut’s bridle. Jennifer is determined not to go down without a fight.

"I'm small," Jennifer says in a breathy voice you don't really recognize as hers. "I'll double."

She looks directly at Joel who is going to great lengths to look anywhere else. If it weren’t so awkward you might have laughed, but instead you try to hide your smile behind your glove.

Oblivious to the dynamic, Luke pats the side of his horse.

"You can ride on the back of mine if you want Jenny," Luke offers with a friendly tip of his head.

Your smile immediately dies. Why didn’t you volunteer? Jennifer pauses, waiting for Joel to inject.

Get the fucking hint, Joel.

He doesn’t. He just shifts the two guns he’s carrying on his back, clearing his throat.

You see how crestfallen Jennifer looks, but it’s for only a moment before she shines a bright smile Luke's way as she hauls herself up behind him, lacing her hands around his middle.

"Thanks, Luke."

With that settled you yourself mount Chestnut, stroking his mane gently. Hank comes over to hand you a backpack. It’s heavy and you make a soft huffing noise when you hoist it onto your shoulders.

“Nails and hammers,” Hank explains. “You got it?”

“Yep,” you nod, trying to look in command of yourself with Luke’s eyes on you. “No problem.”

You feel the coarse hair of Chestnut under your gloved fingertips and squeeze your thighs to prompt him forward. You follow after Joel in habit with Glimmer carrying Luke and Jennifer close behind. The ride to Teton is quiet, but not in a tense way, more distracted.

The backpack as it stands is a problem though because you’re wincing with every jostling step Chestnut takes. The bag is impossibly heavy and it digs into your shoulders like a too-tight bra.

You hear Luke and Jennifer quietly talking with one another on Glimmer. There are quiet giggles and you hear Luke chuckle softly. You feel irritated at Joel not taking Jennifer on his horse with him. Of course he wouldn't - Joel gets his way every time. So you've lost your chance to bond with Luke.

You could be on the back of Glimmer with him. Your arms could be around Luke's waist right now, your thighs bracketing his. You could be feeling the warmth of his body seeping into your front.

But you're not.

You're stuck in the middle listening to Luke's gentle chuckle behind you and watching Joel's broad frame in front of you. As you stare at Joel with the guns on his back your mind drifts to last night.

Have you and Joel moved past your mutual disdain for one another? You’re not quite sure. Right now you’re irritated with him, but there’s less bite to it today. You think maybe you’re both at a polite acceptance of one another. Joel looks back every now and again, his eyes sailing to you and the group behind you. You roll your shoulders, gritting your teeth when the bag digs into the flesh there.

“’Bout halfway there,” he tells the group even though you’re well aware.

Joel is a natural leader checking in on his troops. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was in the forces before all of this. You know that he worked in construction and that he must have been around horses considering he’s such a capable rider. But that’s it.

Perhaps he and Sarah rode horses together. This thought comes to you despite knowing nothing about the girl. Nevertheless you wonder what she looked like. Was she dour and broad like Joel? You imagine her as bubbly and quick with his dark hair.

You watch as Joel slows Midnight and Chestnut quickly overtakes him, their hooves trotting along the earth until the two of you ride side by side. You’re confused and you feel Joel’s eyes on your profile and after a moment you turn to see him staring at the bag and then back to your face.

“Gimme the bag,” he orders gently.

“I’m fine,” you lie. You wonder if he can see the strain in your neck as you say this. He rolls his eyes, huffing out his nostrils.

“You need to be carrying a weapon,” Joel informs you. “Won’t do much damage to a Raider with a heavy backpack.”

He’s right. He’s not doing it to be nice; he’s doing it to be efficient. How Joel of him.

You want to fight him on it but the thought of having the heavy thing off your shoulders is too appealing. You relent as the horses come to stop beside one another. You tug off your bag, handing it to Joel who straps one of the guns to the side of it and slings it over his muscled shoulders. The bag doesn’t even look oversized on him and he carries it with no strain whatsoever.

He hands you off the large shotgun and you throw it over your shoulder, thankful for the padding in the leather sling. Without another word Joel makes a clicking noise with his tongue against his teeth and he and Midnight quickly head up the group once more.

When you get to Teton Village and the four of you do the usual perimeter check you’re feeling bolder and a little bit restless. You feel like you want to impress Luke but can’t think of any meaningful way to do so. He’ll be upstairs hammering and nailing while you stand watch at the window like a senior citizen waiting for the postman. It’s almost embarrassing that you were brought along at all.

When you approach the outpost though you have an idea on how to appear more capable. You urge Chestnut on ahead of Joel and tie the sweet creature quickly to the tree before jogging up the large old library steps.

“I’ve got the lock,” you call over your shoulder casually. Joel is already off his horse and striding towards you with several pieces of lumber slung over his shoulder; Luke is helping Jennifer off of Glimmer. You turn back, fiddling with the code confidently.

It doesn’t work.

“Fuck.”

You try it again, the same one you were taught and then you tug. It’s still not working.

“C’mon,” you whisper angrily to yourself, “c’mon you piece of shit.”

Again the silver tabs are moved to the correct code and again you jerk it only to find it sticking fast. Is it the encroaching cool weather? Your confidence is hanging by a thread when a large ungloved hand comes out of nowhere, coming to gently bat your fingers away.

“Code changed last week,” Joel says lowly behind you.

You feel the warmth of his taller body behind you, his words stirring the hair at the back of your head. You say nothing as you watch his fingers fiddle with the new numbers, sliding them into place. You want to memorize them for next time. His arm rests beside your shoulder as he works his thick thumbs slide the silver tabs. Finally it unlocks and Joel removes the lock, placing it in his pocket.

“Sorry you couldn’t impress your little boyfriend.”

You feel your cheeks burn with humiliation despite the fact that only he and you could hear the murmured remark. He moves past you, Luke and Jennifer carry the remaining lumber. The four of you make your way into the house and wordlessly Joel heads upstairs to begin.

“That was so sweet of Joel to take the bag,” Jennifer whispers to you with hearts in her eyes. “Chivalrous.”

You don’t reply. Why shatter her illusion of who she thinks Joel is? Maybe with her affection and softness he could become that. Maybe with the right woman Joel Miller is chivalrous and romantic.

Maybe it’s just with you that he’s an antagonistic asshole.

The three of them pad up the stairs with the supplies as you stand by the door. You know you're not much use upstairs so you busy yourself writing in the log notes about the repairs. You hear the banging and the conversations upstairs as you move from the small room towards the window of the fireplace room; your eyes surveying the grey of old snow.

You yawn after a short while, bored. There’s nothing out there. There never is in town. That’s why you like Teton village so much. It’s quiet and sleepy and there’s no real danger. Perhaps it’s the large buildings or the lack of footprints. Whatever it is, you find yourself relaxing.

Joel and Jennifer jog down the stairs with Joel not passing you a glance. Jennifer gives you a thumbs up and mouths “getting more wood”. You hear the sound of Luke hammering upstairs and take a moment to consider your next moves.

This may be your only chance.

You scurry up the steps towards the far room, following the sound of Luke’s hammering. You stop when you see him, mid hammer. His back muscles ripple under his t-shirt, a line of sweat down the middle. It’s warm in this room, and judging by the repairs done they have been working quickly and efficiently.

“Hey,” you offer as you approach him, heartened when he turns and flashes you a friendly smile, wiping the sweat from his brow with the bottom of his t-shirt. You turn away at the sliver of taut abdomen that shows itself when he does. Your whole body is going tingly.

“Hey, you come to help us?”

“Oh I would just slow you down,” you say with a shy laugh, your eyes landing anywhere but his handsome face. “Every time I try to hammer the nail goes crooked.”

“You just haven’t been taught correctly then,” Luke ventures, “come here and I’ll give you a lesson.”

You try to keep yourself from jogging over, attempting to appear casual. He holds his hammer out to you as you approach.

"Here.”

You take it from him, facing the sill of the window that he’s been working on. You nearly jolt when you feel his hands land on your shoulders. He notices your flinch, his hands flying off of you at the first contact.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry just distracted,” you insist, feeling your cheeks heat. “Keep going. I’m fine.”

Luke’s hands go to your wrists now, placing the nail in your left fingers and positioning it on the sill.

“You just need to start with it straight. Lotta people angle it without thinking and…”

You know that Luke’s talking more but you’re having trouble focusing because you feel him pressing up behind you, his hand sliding over yours and helping you to hold the nail in place.

“A lot of people make the mistake of hitting the nail shallowly a bunch of times instead of once or twice with harsh blows,” he explains. You feel a warmth go through your body as Luke's curls over yours. He’s so tall, so gentle, so earnest. You feel his voice rumbling through his chest into your back.

He places the hammer in your right hand before he covers your hand with his effectively holding each of your hands like you're a puppet. He positions the nail in the wood once more, bringing your hand and the hammer back. You’re completely boneless, letting yourself melt into his arms.

"So if you hold it-"

Whatever thought Luke had dies at the sound of Joel's rasping voice behind you.

"What're you doin'?"

You and Luke glance over your shoulders to see Joel scowling. He's got a stack of the remaining lumber over his shoulder. Jennifer is beside him, looking between Luke and Joel in confusion, a box of nails in her grip.

Luke still has his arms around yours, guiding you. Both sets of arms are raised midway. It looks like you’re in some strange dance routine involving hammers and nails. Joel drops the lumber to the floor with a thud, his gaze icily on Luke.

"I was just teaching her how to put up the frame," Luke explains with a soft tone. You recognize that he's a gentle man, not one for confrontation. Joel intimidates him; he likely has since he met him. For whatever reason Joel is especially cold to Luke.

"This ain't a teachin' moment," Joel all but growls, his larger frame barreling towards the two of you. "We're here to do a job and get it done fast so we don’t draw attention."

You feel Luke shrinking back, arms lowering, but his frame still rests behind you as if he's worried about leaving you entirely.

"I wanted to learn how to do the repairs," you explain trying to be diplomatic.

"S'not why you were brought," Joel bites back.

He shocks you when he reaches out to take your wrist, tugging you away from Luke. You stagger towards Joel, eyes wide almost barreling into his chest. He holds you tightly, looking down into your face.

"You're here to keep watch while we do this. That’s your job."

His voice is harsh but his eyes are gentle. It's a confusing dichotomy that has you careening from one emotion to the next. You settle on anger when you feel Jennifer and Luke watching you. Your cheeks burn with humiliation at being talked to like this in front of them and you shoot a glare at Joel before you wrench your wrist his grip.

“Let’s break for lunch,” Jennifer suggests, noting the tension.

“Good idea,” Luke says with a smile.

Everyone waits for Joel’s eventual nod before the four of you head downstairs to the log room.

There are thankfully enough chairs because you can’t imagine the awkwardness of standing around eating after everything that happened. Right now you want to sink into your chair and disappear for a few hours.

What the fuck is Joel’s problem?

Jennifer thankfully starts chatting to fill the silence and pulls out the meals from her bag. Two sandwiches each, a thermos of coffee and what appears to be fresh brownies along with the usual water and apples.

Joel goes off for a moment, muttering about feeding the horses. The three of you take a seat around the table, focused on the sweet-smelling brownies.

“Those look so good,” Luke says when Jennifer pulls them out. “I love baked goods.”

“You should try her stuff,” Jennifer says motioning to you with a wink. “Everyone in town says how good her baking is.”

You could kiss Jennifer for the way she’s trying to make you look good in front of Luke. You make a mental note to do the same for her and Joel. Jennifer has many good redeeming qualities and Joel just simply doesn’t see them.

“S’not that good,” you say with a shy little giggle as you bite into your sandwich.

“It is so!” Jennifer insists, unwrapping her own.

“Guess I’ll have to see for myself,” Luke says grinning and taking a sip of his coffee. You don’t say anything but you shift slightly when Joel comes to take the empty seat next to you. He reaches across you to grab one of the sandwiches, peeling back the waxy cloth that holds it.

The room goes quiet again, a side effect of Joel-Miller-iti; because whenever he enters a room it goes deadly quiet. You wonder if he was like this before – was he always so gruff? So grumpy? How could Tommy be so opposite to him?

You wish it was Tommy with the rest of you today. Tommy with his easy laugh and warm countenance. You expect the rest of lunch to go in silence when all of a sudden it’s Joel who breaks it.

"You're good at window repair, Jenny. You must’ve done a lot.”

Jennifer flushes prettily and thanks him in a voice that feels a lot more breathy than necessary.

For some reason this innocuous comment from Joel has your fingers curling into the wood table. Your leg starts to twitch as you rock your leg up and down restlessly on the ball of your foot.

You spent weeks trying to earn Joel’s praise as a patrol partner. You were dutiful and listened and tried your best and he gave you nothing back unless his cock was in your mouth. Jennifer has been working for thirty minutes and he gives her his praise so freely?

If he wasn't sitting beside you, you would be fixing him with your most glowering stare. You wish you weren’t so shy, so quiet. You’d give him a piece of your mind next week on patrols if you had the guts.

“I grew up doing repairs on our house with my brothers,” Jennifer answers and you know she’s beside herself with all this attention from Joel. He’s got his eyes fixed on her and his normally scowling face is brighter, his mouth in a polite smile.

“You had good teachers.”

“I taught them, actually,” she smiles brightly.

“Impressive.”

You continue to bop your leg, the feeling distracting you from your frustration. You hasten a glance at Luke who hasn’t so much as glanced up from his lunch since the meal started. He’s shy like you, quiet and introspective especially when Joel is around. You think that’s why you enjoy his company so much. You feel like you want him to feel included.

“You did construction too, right Luke?”

“Yep,” he nods, swallowing before taking one of the brownies and breaking it apart in his hands. “Cabinetry especially.

“Cool,” you offer awkwardly. You wish you knew more about the topic but your interest and acumen in that field is limited. Your knee continues to bop anxiously as you try to think of ways to get the conversation to continue.

“I was just learning flooring and trim carpentry when the outbreak started,” he continues as you nod along as if it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Oh, wow.”

Jennifer keeps sneaking looks across the table at Joel and if your hunch is correct he’s probably doing the same to her. Despite your previous annoyance with him the thought warms you, that perhaps there is a mutual attraction for your friend and Joel. You wonder if you should warn her about Joel’s temper but decide that Joel may not show that side of himself to her if he can help it.

After what you’ve learned about Joel and Sarah, there is a softness inside you that maybe thinks Jennifer could be good for Joel. You resolve to do whatever you can to make it work for them. Joel isn’t your friend, but Jennifer is. And if she wants Joel you’ll do all you can to make it happen.

You almost yelp when Joel's hand grips your knee, holding your restless leg in place. He leans towards you, voice dropping a register and sliding into a soft rasp.

"Stop shakin' your damn leg. You’re knockin’ over the coffees."

You’re doing no such thing, but part of you thinks he misses ordering you around. He must like the sense of control it gives him. He misses being a big shot and you’re the closest thing he has to a professional underling. All your kind sentiments about him go flying out the window. You were naïve to think there could be a possible friendship there. Hell, not even a friendship – just a respectful mutual tolerance.

You feel an embarrassed flush cross your features, pulling back from Joel’s touch. His fingers slowly unlatch from your knee and his palm lingers a moment before being removed entirely.

“You do a lot of repairs before all this?” Jennifer asks Joel. You surprise yourself by listening, intrigued for more information on pre-outbreak Joel.

“Yep.”

He takes a long swig of his coffee before wiping at his mouth and speaking before Jennifer has the chance to ask more follow up personal questions.

“Alright, let’s finish it up. I’ll see you two up there.”

He doesn’t spare anyone a glance before he’s on his feet, heading up the stairs. Luke joins him moments later, leaving you and Jennifer sitting across from one another.

When she’s certain the men are upstairs she looks beside herself with delight and leans forward conspiratorially.

“Do you think Joel was flirting?” she whispers, her light eyes dancing. “I mean, Luke is way better at repairs but he didn’t say anything nice to him.”

“Definitely,” you reason, looking thoughtful. “He doesn’t really talk much normally, so I think that’s a good sign.”

“I’m gonna ride back with him,” Jennifer says hiding a giggle behind her hand.

“Go for it,” you say, unable to stop from smiling. You can’t help but enjoy her excitement.

“I wonder what he kisses like,” she muses, her eyes dreamy. You shrug your shoulders and she fixes you with that same sisterly look. “When’s the last time you had a really good make out?”

“Uh…” you trail off, your cheeks heating. “We can talk about it later. He’ll be pissed off if you don’t get up there soon. Don’t wanna blow your chances now.”

Jennifer gives you a grateful squeeze on the shoulder as she passes, calling up to Joel and Luke that she’s just grabbing some extra nails. You don’t hear their reply because you’ve dragged yourself to the window, your eyes scanning.

You hear them nailing upstairs, the muffled sound of their talking. As always you're on the edge, forever on the outside. You chew at the inside of your cheek in irritation, your eyes scanning the outside.

It's not long after that the three come back downstairs dressed for travel. Jennifer is pulling on her gloves and chatting with Luke about the rumors of heavy snow and Joel is carrying his bag with the tools over one shoulder. He fixes you with an expectant stare, brows raised.

"See anythin’?"

"Nope. Would've said something if I did."

Joel stares at you, unblinking and you're confused when you see a small curl of his lip in amusement.

"S'go."

The four of you trudge towards the waiting horses. Chestnut looks excited to see you and you grin as you approach. You press your forehead to his cheek, stroking down his flank as the rest of the group begins to pick a horse.

"I can ride with someone again," Jennifer offers and you watch with a touch of amusement as she subtly steps towards Joel who has just climbed atop Midnight.

"Nah, let's switch it up," Joel says gruffly. "That way s’fair for everyone."

Luke looks your way and you hold in a nervous grin. He’s going to make the same offer to you that he did to Jennifer because he’s a gentleman that way.

The thought has your stomach fluttering excitedly. You think of how your arms will wrap around his middle, how you’ll find an excuse to press your cheek to his shoulder blade. How your thighs will-

"Get on."

Your brows knit together in confusion as you gaze up to your right to see Joel on his horse, holding out a gloved hand in front of your face. His curls fall into his forehead as he tilts towards you, mouth in a firm line.

What the fuck is he doing? Why is he trying to fuck this up for you?

“S’go,” Joel tells you, shaking an impatient outstretched hand from atop of his horse. He looks like he’s irritated out of his mind as you make your decision.

"Oh, uh," you glance at the disappointment in Luke's face before turning back to Joel, trying to hide your irritation.

It makes sense after all; Luke already had to ride with Jennifer. But a part of you had been hoping to spend a bit of time with him on the horse. It's been a long while since a man intrigued you like Luke.

"We don't have all day," Joel snipes at your hesitation. "Let's go."

Jennifer strides forward, taking Chestnut’s bridle from you. You hand it over before looking back up at Joel who waits with one hand on his saddle horn, the other still at your eye level.

You clench your jaw and take his hand, hooking your foot into the footing of Midnight’s saddle and feeling the muscle of Joel’s arm as you grip his bicep and he pulls you astride the horses back behind him.

He shifts, giving you room to slide behind the saddle. You do so, holding in a sigh as you position yourself atop the strong animal. You feel Midnight's ribs under your legs, wider than Chestnut's. He's a pitch black mare with a coat that currently glistens. He's always been a rather imposing horse, hesitant around new people. Riding him is like being in a room alone with Joel – intimidating.

"Hold on," Joel instructs before clicking his tongue, encouraging Midnight to start walking. The horse jerks to a start, causing you to dig your legs into Midnight’s side. You’re lucky the horse doesn’t kick you off for it.

You look over your shoulder to see Jennifer on Chestnut a few paces back. You give her a look that shows how displeased you are to be with Joel, replete with an eye roll. She returns it with a weak smile before her focus is back on the trail. Luke is looking off into the surrounding area, his eyes scanning for threats as he sits straight-backed on Glimmer.

You turn back to face ahead of you, displeased.

At first you barely touch Joel, hands resting on your thighs as the four of you bob along the trail. No one is talking now. The air is filled with an unexpected tension that you can’t for the life of you understand.

Your front is pressed against Joel's back, squeezing gently to make sure you don't slide off. Midnight makes a jostling step off the path before righting himself. It sends you slipping back, your thighs digging into the horse’s side and your hands going to grab Joel lightly by his jacket.

"Unless you wanna fall off I suggest you hold tighter n'that." Joel bites off.

You know he’s correct. Sitting this awkwardly is only a burden on Midnight. Your arms snake around Joel’s waist and hold there below his sternum. His chest is broad, his arms muscled, his thighs strong. Everything about him is masculine and tough. All but the soft look of his dark brown curls threaded with grey which curl under his ears just slightly.

Despite everything you've experienced with Joel, actually physically touching him is surreal. You know the feel of his cock in your palm and on your tongue, the taste of his come. But now you can explore the rest of his body first with your eyes and then your hands.

Up this close to Joel you see the freckles on his golden skin and the way he holds himself stiffly straight in front of you. He’s so broad, his entire disposition that of protector. You can understand why Ellie feels safe with him.

You marvel at the smooth sensation of his jacket under your fingertips, the warmth of his body. This close to Joel you inhale the scent of leather and homemade lavender soap from Hannah's. You could almost laugh that you both use the same scent mostly because Joel Miller smelling like flowers is an amusing thought.

You pass through a different path on your way back as you always do and are irritated with the sight of the overturned trees. The roots are ugly, twisted things that poke out from the light dusting of snow.

“Shit,” Joel mutters to himself.

Midnight rears back sharply and in a panic your arms wrap more tightly around Joel’s waist, suddenly anxious. You're surprised when Joel's left hand goes to cover your grip knotted against his middle, holding you in place.

Joel grunts out a grumbled whoa boy before tugging Midnight’s reigns with his right hand to get him to obey. His hand is big, warming you despite the gloves you both wear.

"Careful," Joel calls over his shoulder to Jennifer and Luke. "Some big roots here."

The two of them call out that they've heard him. You twist to look over your shoulder and watch them navigate Chestnut and Glimmer over the uprooted tree. Luckily it doesn’t take long before the four of you are back on the path heading home with no more obstacles in the foreseeable future.

You glance behind you to see Jennifer looking miserable on Glimmer. She looks so disappointed and you want to slap Joel upside the head for missing how obviously into him she is. You think of earlier, when Joel observed her skills and an idea comes to you.

“Hey Jennifer?”

“Yeah?”

“I really like your jacket,” you fumble for a way to make this sound natural.

Jennifer shoots you a confused look, curious as to where you’re going with this. “Uh, thanks.”

“Did you get it from town?”

“I made it,” she tells you, the silent you already know that, reflected in her gaze.

“Wow, you’re so gifted. You made those amazing curtains in your place too, right?”

“I did.”

“You’re so good at making stuff,” you gush. “Especially clothes. You make men's clothes too, right Jennifer? Like jackets?"

"Uh yeah," she says slowly before her confusion fades, realizing what you're getting at. She smiles cheekily at you. "Yeah, I can make jackets, jeans, t-shirts, all that stuff."

“You’re so talented at it,” you gush. Luke is looking over your way and you feel the need to really drive it home. “I mean, with the holidays coming up I might just want to get a dress from you.”

You have never worn a dress in your life. Not unless your mother forced you into them as a child. But you need to sell this idea that Jennifer is a domestic goddess. You’ll leave out the part about her baking.

“I could make us matching ones,” she says with a wink. You hold in a giggle at the thought.

“I’d like to see that,” Luke offers shyly from behind Jennifer who shoots a delighted look in your direction complete with dramatically mouthed ‘he likes you!’. You flush at the attention, your lips pursing into a pleased grin.

You feel Joel's trunk stiffen in your arms and his hand drops from over yours. He replaces it on the reigns.

"Keep it down," Joel hisses over his shoulder at you and the others. "Unless you were hopin’ to guide Raiders our way?"

The two of them go quiet and you cringe internally. You don't know why but you suppose it's because Joel is your patrol partner. A reflection on you in some ways and he's coming off like a major asshole right now. Your arms loosen around his middle finding that the horse is now on smoother terrain.

You glance over at Jennifer about to give her a sympathetic look but she shoots you an exaggerated eyebrow waggle and mouths the words "still sexy" with a head tilt at Joel. You barely suppress a surprised giggle, irritating Joel further.

"What's so fuckin’ funny?"

"Nothing."

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

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aris-ink · 2 years

Note

sub yn *innocently* dry humps her step brother jk while he plays video games

dhfshsfdhh

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: forbidden romance, step!siblings au

warnings: slight allusions to violence (not towards the reader), pseudo incest, mentions of corruption + masturbation & somnophilia, possessiveness, dry humping, some soft dirty talk + praise

Jungkook craned his neck, his eyes stuck on the screen in front of him. It wouldn't be fair to say that losing the game was entirely your fault; but that was how he saw it anyway. How was he supposed to focus with you sitting on his lap?

It didn't even cross his mind that perhaps you shouldn't have been sitting there in the first place. Jungkook has always been too weak to resist temptation, and even weaker when it came to denying you anything you wanted.

He might have been younger than you, but what he lacked in experience he made up for with cleverness. He taught you that you could always rely on him, crawl into his bed after a nightmare and cuddle up to him after a bad day. As long as no one was around to see.

"The hell?" Namjoon grumbled into the mic. "What is wrong with you today?"

Yoongi chuckled. "Think you should sit the next round out, Kook."

Jungkook clenched his jaw, his hand settling down on your hip.

"Stop moving," he muttered into your ear.

You tightened your arms around his neck.

"I'm just trying to get comfortable," you whispered.

Comfortable. Jungkook didn't know what that word meant at the moment, because he was so hard he could barely sit still himself. He released a deep breath and fixed his mic, his cheeks getting warmer as you snuggled into him.

"Sorry, I got distracted."

"Uh-huh," Namjoon scoffed. "Who you with?"

Jungkook could practically hear him grin. The little devil on his shoulder whispered into his ear, urged him to wipe the amusement right off of his friend's face and answer as honestly as possible.

My sister.

The thought alone made his heart pound faster. He knew his friends thought you were pretty; obviously, they had eyes. But he doubted that speaking his mind would have been a great idea, no matter how much he wanted to claim you as his.

Before he could say anything, Yoongi sighed.

"As if, Joon. Come on, let's get started already. Kook, no offense but I really think you should sit this one out-"

Jungkook didn't get to hear the rest of the sentence, because you shifted in his lap again, and this time you brushed up right against the bulge in his sweats. His fingers softened around the controller in surprise. He could feel his cock throb as you gasped, lifting your head to look up at him.

"O-oh," you stuttered out, a crease between your brows, like you didn't understand what just happened.

"No, seriously, I told you he's with someone, dude," Namjoon started, but Jungkook was already exiting the game and taking off his mic.

You looked like you had no idea what effect you had on him. Like you couldn't see how starved he was for your love. For some reason, the innocence you exhuded made his cock twitch.

Instead of giving out to you, he simply moved his eyes back to the screen and mindlessly searched for a game he could play on his own as a distraction. A distraction for you, of course.

He cleared his throat and remained still, as if he didn't want to bend you over his desk and fuck you senseless. As if he hasn't wanted to do that for years. He could feel you begin to relax in his arms again, and he prayed to whatever deity existed out there that he would have the patience to get through this.

A sigh escaped you as you tried to move your hips once more. You did so discreetly, as though you didn't want him to notice, chasing the butterflies; just like you did when you were younger. But now there was no nets and clear, blue skies. Only the darkness of Jungkook's room and your own mind, combined with the fluttering in your stomach.

He has waited so long, blurring the lines so slowly... So, technically, he should have been able to wait a little longer. And he could, but he had to do something. He needed something; anything.

He placed his hand on your hip again, gently guiding you to sit right on top of his clothed cock. He didn't dare take his eyes off his game, but all he was focused on was the feeling of your warmth and not making a sound. You were like a little animal finally entering the hunter's trap; one wrong move and all could go to hell.

"Feel comfortable yet?" He whispered. "Feel good?"

You nodded into his neck, your breathing growing heavier against him. He wondered if you were getting wet. You must have been, right? He wondered what you'd do if he kissed you until your lips were swollen. All his muscles tensed up as he continued waiting, holding back the urge to thrust up against you.

And the patience paid off. Carefully, testing the waters, he could feel you drag your cunt back along the curve of his cock. His head hit the back of the couch, the controller slipping out of his grip. With the same, cautious roll forward you almost whimpered into his neck, making his heart skip a beat.

He groaned quietly, sliding his hand down onto your ass. Even though the move itself was bold, his touch was gentle, his eyes falling shut.

"Feels good," he breathed. "Don't stop."

You let out the tiniest moan into his skin, and it was the hottest sound Jungkook's ever heard. As much as he always wanted you to be each other firsts, he knew that wasn't possible if he didn't want to scare you off. He had to settle for whatever he could get his hands on; countless pairs of your underwear went missing throughout the years, but you never noticed, because Jungkook always made sure to get you plenty of new, nice things. When that wasn't enough anymore, he learned to stay quiet as he grinded against you while you slept, a pair of your panties wrapped around his cock to catch his hot seed when he came. You didn't seem to notice when the boys you liked started avoiding you either - or when they mysteriously disappeared.

And now here you were, fulfilling every wet dream he's ever had and humping him to your heart's content. You followed his commands and rubbed your little clit against him like he was your personal toy. Everything about it had him ready to blow his load right into his pants.

He squeezed your ass, arching his back when your hips sped up, his mouth falling open. He groaned again.

"Go harder."

He lifted his head up, his cheeks dusted with a blush, eyes hooded as he brushed his nose against yours. You did as he asked, grinding yourself against his cock in firmer circles, a muffled whine slipping past your teeth as they bit into your lower lip.

"God," he sighed, "you're so fucking hot. You like that?"

"Mhm," you moaned, "but-"

"Shh. It'll be our little secret, yeah? No one has to know."

You nodded, nuzzling your face into his neck, but Jungkook was having none of that. He was getting so fucking close, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to see your eyes starting right back at him for the first time when he came for you.

"Look at me. I want those pretty eyes on me."

You shivered, your hips rutting against his quicker, and Jungkook groaned lowly.

"My good girl. Are you wet for me?"

"Y-yeah," you stuttered.

His dick twitched, his stomach twisting and turning with pleasure.

"Yeah?" He cooed. "You gonna make a mess for me?"

"Jungkook-"

"Fuck," another groan, more strained than the others. "I'm gonna come. Want me to come?"

Your hips stuttered in their rhythm. Jungkook could swear he could feel a wet spot growing on his sweats, and combined with the desperate, fucked out look on your face it was more than enough to make his balls clench harder than ever before in his life. His fingers dug into your ass, back arching as he released rope after rope of cum right into his briefs beneath your cunt. His breathy moans mingled with yours, quickly overshadowed by the filth and confessions spilling out of his mouth. You've heard both before, but never while you were coming on top of him, your clit pulsing against him.

"Fuck, fuck, love you- ah, I love you, I love you-"

You swallowed, stilling in his arms, the weight of your actions settling heavy over your shoulders.

Jungkook, on the other hand, felt completely free and weightless at last. He buried his face in the crook of your neck with a sigh.

"So good," he mumbled incoherently. "So good. Waited so- so long. Love you so much."

And even though it was hard to find the words, you couldn't lie. Not to yourself and certainly not to him.

"Love you too," you whispered tiredly.

It wasn't that simple. And unlike Jungkook, you didn't think you'd be able to face yourself in the mirror the moment you were out of his arms. But that was okay; no matter how difficult this was for you to accept, Jungkook has mastered the art of waiting. He didn't mind waiting a bit longer. The only difference was that now, whether you realized it or not, he had you right where he wanted you.

"Kook," you murmured. "Need to wash up."

He smiled, rubbing his nose along your collarbone.

"So do I. Now what do we do about that?"

#💁‍♀️#lmao #bts x reader #bts smut #yandere bts #jungkook x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts reactions

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kookieswan · 1 year

Note

I BEG you to do horny hobi.

I'm on my knees for this. PLEASE!

Pretty please?

I’m feeling nice… Horny Hoseok? Horny Hoseok. Warning for nsfw/18+ content!

Hosoek is always a touchy guy, but he gets even touchier when he’s horny. He’ll be all over you all the time.

Sex usually occurs in your house but every once in a while, he’ll pick somewhere else that’s still somewhat secluded (his dance studio included. He likes the mirrors.) the man doesn’t have issue with others seeing him be affectionate with you.

He really does like to tease though - Lingering touches turns into him holding you as long as he can, sweet kisses turn intensely deep, cute words start to take on a more sultry undertone.

The teasing will end with him grabbing your ass, kissing your neck, touching your tits, and finally fucking you into the bed before long.

It’ll most likely start out as giggly sweet sex. He’ll lay you back against your bed, hold you close, and fuck into you slowly while holding your hand.

“Hows that sweetheart? You look so pretty for me, always do.”

Hobi is super attentive, watching ever reaction you make; every face, every sound, even your movement. He wants to make you feel good. He wants to feel you feeling good.

On top of that, he’s a talker. He’ll talk you through it with a gentle smile, his filthy words betraying his angel like appearance.

“You’re going to cum? Then cum beautiful, wanna feel you, wanna see your eyes roll back.”

And your eyes will roll back because you best believe he’ll fuck you right through that orgasm. Your eyes rolling back isn’t enough; he wants to hear you scream.

The angel like persona quickly slips away after this, shifting into something a little more… Intense.

Hoseok has no issue overstimulating you. His hand will leave yours and wrap around your wrists, holding you down as he fucks into you deeply.

Your moans and whines only make him go harder, the once gentle smile now a smirk, his voice holding a sliver of a taunting tone.

“How’s my cock feel baby? You think your cute little pussy can take more?”

He’ll wait for your confirmation and then flip you over, laying his body over your back to drive deeper into your sensitive pussy. His body’s so warm against yours, the weight absolutely delicious.

He’ll leave wet kisses against your neck, his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he picks up the pace. If you clench around him he’ll lose his mind, voice rough and almost like a growl.

“That’s it baby. Take it like a good girl, hm? I know you can.”

“Gonna cum again? Go ahead baby, cum all over my cock.”

And you do, right up until he has you cumming or he cums himself, lets out a loud groan, fucking in as deep as he can before cuming inside of you. His hips will twitch a bit, and he’ll pull out slowly so he can see his work.

If you didn’t cum a second time, he’ll definitely be eating you out, fingers slipping into your oversensitive cunt as he sucks on your clit until you orgasm. Hell, he might do that anyway just to see have you crying out for him again.

He’ll praise you nonrstop afterwards, making sure you know how well you did and how much he loves you. He can resist seeing your pretty smile.

“You did so good for me love. So good. Love you so much”

He’ll turn right back into his bubbly cute self when you’re done though, asking if you need anything. Water? Food? Cuddles??????

Looooots and lots of cuddles and kisses. He likes to be lazy after sex and has no issues curling up with your and watching a movie in bed.

Overall, Hoseok tends to start out soft, fuck you hard, and then goes back to being a soft cute man. He just wants to make his pretty baby feel good ♥️

#hoseok x you #hoseok x y/n #hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #hoseok thirst #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts smut #bts thirst #teehee

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i-hate-people-1 · 1 year

Text

This is part three of my Warren Rojas fanfic I hope you enjoy!!! Also if you have any ideas for a name for this series let me know because I haven't been about to come up with anything good. Anyways thank you so much for reading xx

Masterlist

Warren Rojas X Reader

Karen "Now that I think about it, I don't remember seeing one without the other much after that."

It was true—you and Warren had been inseparable. You did everything other than work together. You needed to go to the store; Warren was going with you. He needed new drumsticks, and you were going with him.

The one exception is parties. Warren thrived at parties; he loved people and was loud, bubbly, and fun. always up for trying something new. You, however, hated parties. They made you anxious; they were too loud, and there were far too many people.

So on a night like tonight, when Karen had invited everyone to a party her friend was throwing, you politely declined, making the excuse that you needed to paint your guest room.

It was true; you had been putting it off for quite some time. Not going to a party just happened to be the perfect motivation.

"Are you sure you don't want to come? It's going to be really fun!” Warren asked, looking through his chest of drawers in the living room. You were laying on the couch, better known as Warren's makeshift bed. Helping him pick out an outfit for the party

"Yes, I'm sure," you told him, hoping it would be the last time he'd ask. You had stood your ground all day every time he had asked so far, but Warren had a way of convincing you to do stuff.

"Okay, fine," he sighed, holding up an outfit: a pair of flowy tan pants, a white collared button-up, and a black vest. "How's this?"

"Are you going for pirate?"

"Not particularly"

"Then lose the shirt," you told him, standing up to look in his drawer. You found a grey tank top and said, "Here, wear this instead." You threw him the shirt, and he caught it, holding it out with a huge smile overtaking his face.

"You're a genius!" he exclaimed, running over to you and picking you up, and twirling you around.

"Put me down," you laughed. "You need to change or you're going to be late," you told him, still laughing.

He sat you down gently, moving the hair that had fallen out of your face. His finger outlined your cheekbone, hand resting there. You swallowed nervously at the closeness, staring into his eyes as he inched closer. And despite your nervousness, you did too.

Just as you both started to close your eyes, you heard the front door open. You quickly jumped away from each other, your gaze falling to the floor.

"I should change," Warren chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“Yeah, I should go home anyway," you told him, standing still despite your statement.

"Warren, why aren't you dressed yet?" Karen asked him as she walked in from the kitchen.

"I'm going," he said, walking away quickly.

"What's wrong with him?" Karen asked.

"Nothing," you said quickly, deciding to cut your losses and starting your walk home, leaving a confused Karen behind.

You slid down your door as soon as you closed it, head falling to your knees. "Ughhhhh," you grunted loudly. picking your head up and walking into your guest room, trying to forget about what happened between you and Warren just moments before.

A few hours later, you had finished painting your guest room, and now you were just sitting on your couch watching TV, the events of earlier today still heavy on your mind.

Just as you were getting ready to go to bed, you heard the front door knob jiggle followed by a knock. You looked at the door slowly, standing up and grabbing a lamp off your entryway table, when you heard another knock. You held the lamp up, ready to swing, unlocking the door and opening it quickly, letting out a breath of relief when you were met with Warren's smiling face.

"Warren, what the hell, you scared the shite out of me," you told him, holding his hand over your heart in an attempt to calm its rapid beating.

"Sorry," he whispered, pushing past you, stumbling, and falling onto your couch head first.

"Warren?" you said, closing the door and walking to the couch. sitting in front of the couch, facing him.

"Yes?" he whispered, turning his head to the side.

"Are you okay?" you asked, moving the hair out of his eyes. It was the first time you got a good look at them and how bloodshot they were, and he smelled of cigarettes and booze. It wasn't a bad smell; it was very warren-like, like, actually, he had a way of pulling it off.

"No," he told her, smiling brightly and laughing despite what he just said. This made you furrow your brows in question.

"You really have no idea, do you?" He asked you with a frown overtaking his face.

"What are you talking about?" You asked back, laughing nervously, confused as to what he was talking about.

"Ughhh," he groaned loudly, sitting up abruptly and running a hand down his face, leaving it resting there. His change of position made you get up from the floor, pull your coffee table closer, and sit down on it. Pulling his hands away from his face gently, you lifted his face with one hand while the other held his resting in his lap.

"Warren, what's going on?" you asked, trying not to startle him.

"I can't do this anymore," he told you, his big brown eyes staring deeply into your soul.

Your heart started racing at his statement. You had so many questions do what life? The band? Partying? Or worse of all your friendship? You opened your mouth to say something, but Warren quickly put his hand over your mouth.

"I know you don't feel the same, and that's okay, I just needed to tell you so please don't say anything because in my drunken state I can take the rejection," Warren told you while lying back down on the couch. Your eyebrows furrowed deeper; you were trying so hard to figure out what the hell he was talking about. But your thoughts were interrupted by Warren's soft snores.

You smile down at him, covering him with a blanket and brushing the hair out of his eyes once more before leaning down to kiss his cheek softly.

"I love you," Warren mumbled, making you freeze in your place, eyes widening. You pulled away as your mind caught up to you.

"Warren," you whispered, wondering if he was awake at all. When he didn't respond, you just kept staring at his sleeping face. Despite all the thoughts running around your head, you just smiled and said, "You know, as insane as it may sound, I think I love you too." You told his sleeping form this while standing up and walking to your room, looking at him one last time before turning off the light and heading to bed.

You woke up the next morning with the sun shining brightly in your eyes. It was 9:00 AM on a Saturday, so you took a few minutes to keep lying in bed, taking your time to wake up.

When you finally did get up, you threw on a big t-shirt and headed toward the kitchen, surprised when you heard someone already in there glancing at the couch and relaxing when you didn't see him there.

"Good morning," you said, seeing Warren at the stove making some french toast.

"Good morning," Warren replied softly, not looking at you. The air in the room was awkward, and you felt like you could cut the tension with a knife.

After getting some coffee, you sat down at the table and waited for Warren to finish. After a few minutes, he came to sit beside you, sliding a plate of two pieces of French toast—one with a whipped cream frowny face and the other with a poorly written "I'm sorry."

You laughed at this, looking over at Warren, who was still avoiding your gaze. "Why are you sorry?" you questioned.

"I came to your house in the middle of the night, super drunk, and passed out on your couch," he whispered.

"Warren, look at me," you paused, moving his head gently to meet your eyes, frowning when you were met with his sad ones. "You have nothing to be sorry for," you told him, smiling when you saw a small one on his lips.

You both started eating your French toast, and Warren had a plate of greasy bacon.

"I also threw up on your blanket, so I'm sorry about that too," he said before shoving some bacon in his mouth. (It was all good, though, as he had already put it in the washer for you.)

Y/N "I just wanted to shake him and ask him if he really loved me that whole day, but he was asleep when he said it, so I couldn't really hold that against him."

Warren " yeah...” warren paused looking at the camera seriously “I was wide awake,"

#warren rojas x reader #warren rhodes x reader #warren rhodes #warren rojas #daisy jones #billy dunne #eddie roundtree #daisy jones and the six #graham dunne #julia dunne #karen sirko

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xlucygraysongbirdx · 9 months

Text

have a scorbus something... snippet? scene? not even sure, but have it anyway!

"What's up with you?" Scorpius asked from his bed, placing his quill down to give Albus his full attention.

Albus halted in his tracks, not realising that his out-of-character behaviour had been so noticeable. He slowly removed his robes as he shrugged. "Nothing, I'm fine."

"Really?" Scorpius said, only a hint of annoyance in his tone. But his eyes were soft and full of concern. "Because you've been practically avoiding me all day and acting out in classes, which is when I know something is going on in your mind. And you don't have to tell me, but please don't straight up lie to me and tell me you're fine when all the evidence points to you not being fine."

"I want to tell you," Albus started, losing his confidence almost as quickly as it came. He could barely look at Scorpius.

"But?"

Albus sighed. "But I don't want you to look at me differently." Scorpius raised his eyebrows, urging Albus to go on. "Because I like the way you look at me. You look at me with this softness and this innocence and if I tell you what's going on, it might change the way you see me and no longer look at me like that and if you want me to be honest with you, that might kill me."

"What if I promise not to see you any differently?" Scorpius had this look of concern on his face now as he shuffled around, feet on the floor, perched on the end of his bed.

"You can't promise me that."

"I can promise that you're my best friend and whatever it is that's troubling you also troubles me, so we can figure this out together, Albus."

The way Scorpius said his name made his knees go weak. It made him want to tell him all his secrets, like the way he was foolishly in love with him. And before Albus knew it, words were spilling from his mouth.

"I like someone," he started. If Scorpius was surprised, he didn't show it. He only watched him intensely. "And this person, they're great and kind and funny and so smart and way out of my league, and I shouldn't feel this way about them but no matter how hard I try, I just can't unfeel these things. It's like they put a spell on me and every day, I wake up and I can't stop thinking about them. About you. Because it's you, it's always you, and you're there with your soft eyes and careful smile and you have me in a chokehold."

Albus was pacing back and forth now, his legs needing to move as fast as his words were. Scorpius stayed silent, watching him gather his thoughts and blurt them out. "And I shouldn't feel this way because you're my best friend, I cherish that more than anything, but the tragic truth, Scorpius, is that I can't stop thinking about kissing you!"

The room was silent as the words Albus blurted hung between them. He stopped pacing, barely able to look at his best friend. His eyes were pinned on his socked feet, when two more feet appeared in his line of vision.

Mismatched socks. A direct opposition to Albus' black socks.

"Then just do it."

Albus' head shot up, green eyes meeting grey.

"What?"

"Just do it." Scorpius repeated, not an ounce of regret swimming in his eyes. "Get it out of your head."

Scorpius usually struggled with eye contact, but he held Albus' eye like his life depended on it. Albus' heart was beating so fast he was almost sure he would pass out soon enough. He couldn't be hearing Scorpius right, surely his brain was playing tricks on him.

But there was his best friend, standing in front of him, daring him to kiss him.

"Do it, Albus, before I do."

Without a second longer to think, Albus' hands were on Scorpius' cheeks and he was pulling him close until their lips connected. It was desperate and messy and Albus almost pulled away prematurely, but then Scorpius' hands were on his hips, pulling their bodies closer and their kiss deepened as he tilted his head slightly to the side. It felt like a lifetime, a lifetime of pure undiluted joy, of everything he had ever wanted.

They slowly pulled apart, but their bodies remained close together, eyes locked and breathing ragged. Albus' skin was on fire where Scorpius' fingers gripped at his waist. Albus realised then that this wasn't just a silly crush, but that he would burn the world down for this boy in his arms. He would fight wars and travel oceans to see him smile, he would climb mountains to see him happy, he would duel anyone who made him sad. Scorpius was the only thing that mattered to him.

"Now you can stop thinking about it," Scorpius said, his breathing still not caught up with him. "And the next time you do think about it, you can just do it."

His eyes widened.

"I mean, if you want to do it again, that is."

"Absolutely," Albus whispered, barely finding his words.

Scorpius grinned, his smile brighter than ever and Albus couldn't help but mirror it, his heart now lighter. Scorpius gripped his waist tighter, pulling him impossibly closer and just before their lips met again, Scorpius mumbled, "now it's my turn."

#scorbus #albus severus potter #scorpius malfoy #harry potter #cursed child #albus and scorpius #hpcc #fanfiction #wip #they cute

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mywritingonlyfans · 6 months

Note

can you give us a spoiler about the smut part? 😼

I didn't answer you because I felt bad for not knowing how to answer 😅 I'm not going to do that because it's not a long fic and I think it will end up losing its effect if I post it before, idk, it makes sense to me, and no I didn't finish it yet 😭but anyway, I'm posting the beginning of it, but it's before the smut, I don't think I'll cheer you up much 😔

And using you as a vent (I still don't know how people wait for teacher's pet because I'm a mess but thank you), I'm a little tired of writing the same thing for a long time and I'll probably try to write some fluff and post it in the middle of these parts of fics that I have to post... besides, I don't think I'll be able to finish this one over the weekend because I have a test on Monday 😪 (I tried to make an effort to write but it's being very difficult to keep my attention; and at the exact moment my head isn't very excited about smut itself, unfortunately it was clear at the beginning of the fic as you can read lol; but I'll try to post it over the week). I feel like I shouldn't feel sorry about this but I kind of do, it's just that life hasn't been that kind recently.

"Hey, Mr. Turner," your tongue curled at the pronunciation and a smile stretched your lips.

He shifted his focus away from the book, placing it aside, and then his gaze landed on you. The knee-high stockings perfectly intact on your legs, well above the knees, and the button-up shirt with thicker collars and edges covering your body; you were and looked beautiful, despite the tired expression.

Without insisting on taking one last drag, he promptly disposed of the cigarette, hating the idea of affecting you with it. Judging by the appearance of the lit cigarette between his fingers, he had just ignited it, yet he didn't hesitate to discard it. You didn't consider it necessary, but you couldn't deny that you found it to be a sweet gesture on his part; which you had already been used to by now.

"Tired, little one?" He said softly, in tune with the starry night on the balcony. His hand was both firm and gentle on you, his fingertips comfortable through the fabric of the socks, while your arms held him tightly against your body.

Your face was nestled in his neck, the comforting and familiar scent already so well known. You raised your head just enough for him to look into your eyes, his faint smile leaving you slightly breathless. Reluctant to untangle from his warmth, you continued, "When are you goin' to bed? I don't want to fall asleep without you. I was thinking of waiting for you." You were cautious, your inquiry devoid of any emotion except tenderness. You knew he was finishing up something important for one of his upcoming classes, but it was already very late.

"You're going to wait for me?" He raised an eyebrow, the cute wrinkle right there, studying you nestled against his chest. " 'ere?" He chuckled, the vibration that filled his body making you feel even more at home.

The fact that both of you knew he wouldn't return to that task was fun. And Alex didn't feel bad about it. He liked having you there, enjoyed the idealization that you had been tossing and turning for the past few hours, hands between your thighs, almost sewing holes into your socks, unable to sleep, until you came to him with your silly smile and timid steps. It was 3 am, he was the one who was wrong.

He held your chin firmly, his nose brushing against yours, his tousled hair grazing your forehead, and then he kissed you, in the same gentle and lingering way as the night. You moaned into his lips, slowly pulling away and realizing how breathless you were as he looked at you with his eyes full of sleep and his face all red, you wanted to bite him all over. As if he could read your mind, he nibbled on your cheekbone, laughing lightly at your reaction until he went to your neck and rubbed his growing beard there. Your mind, which didn't have many thoughts due to tiredness, emptied as the tip of his nose dipped into you in a silent sigh as he ripped the air out of your lungs in a rigorous bite.

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ohwhataniight · 12 days

Text

more than the world can contain - Chapter 4: A Scandal in Belgravia

Part 2

If I had a therapist, she would note down yet another trigger in my list of traumas: swimming pools. The smell of chlorine. Semtex. Although I am fairly certain that having a phobia of deadly explosives should be considered the picture of good mental health. Anyway, I don't currently have a therapist. But, on second thought, maybe I should reconsider.

Because my flatmate is complete bonkers, and I have to deal with his antics every day.

I’ve only managed to get what feels like two hours of blissfully dreamless, uninterrupted, Xanax-induced sleep, after we return to Baker Street, before I wake up with a scream.

The reason I'm screaming is that Sherlock is awake and hovering over me, watching me sleep, his pale blue eyes glinting in the dark as the lights from the street catch them in their stride through the windows. He’s staring intensely at my face, brow furrowed, as if he's trying to decipher some code. He’s wearing a look I became acquainted to for the first time tonight: uncertainty, with an unusual tinge of vulnerability. Once again in this night that feels like a century, he looks much younger than he is.

“What on our-planet-that-orbits-the-sun are you doing?” I hear myself mumbling as I rub my eye with the heel of one hand, and even I’m surprised with my own eloquence at this ungodly time of the night, after a near-death experience. It’s then when I register the slight pressure of cold fingers on my other wrist. “Your hands are cold, you look like a vampire, you act like a vampire. Is there anything you need to tell me, Sherlock?”

“Nope, nothing,” he pops his p quite dramatically, drops my hand on the frame my bed rather gracelessly (this is going to bruise later) and throws himself up, walks away, silk blue robe swishing around him.

I sit up and my eyes slowly get accustomed to the darkness of the room. “Sherlock,” I demand, cutting him dead as his tracks by the door. “You were taking my pulse,” it sounds like an accusation. “In the middle of the night.”

“Nothing to worry about, all seems normal.”

“Yes, but why were you taking my pulse?”

“It’s for an experiment.”

I’m still faced with his back. “Listen,” I say. “There’s no need to be worried. I’m alive, and I'm home, thanks to an uncharacteristic stroke of luck. And, well, you.”

A breath hovers in the empty space between us for a second. “You've got your answer, John,” he eventually exhales, still refusing to turn around and face me. "Not the one you want, maybe, but definitely the one you need."

“What answer? Sherlock, why do you have to be all enigmatic? It’s bloody 3 in the morning, you’re allowed to take a break, y'know?” I stand up from my bed, barefoot on the carpetted floor, infuriated.

Finally, he turns around. Be careful what you wish for, Johnny, I think, because his gaze is burning through me. It's pretty intense, disarming. Especially considering everything that’s taken residence in my mind during the past couple of days.

“You have been wondering whether I am capable of human emotion for a while now. Whether I care,” he almost spits the word. “Well, John, tonight you have observed it’s in your best interests if I don’t. I hope that explains my usual... disposition. Now, go back to sleep. You are still in shock.”

“And you aren’t?”

He doesn’t respond. Just stares at me. Then, “why would I be?”

I take a few steps, closing the distance between us. My heart is thrumming like a caged bird and I want to extend my hand, touch him, comfort him. But this isn’t how Sherlock Holmes works. “We are all bound to lose people we care about in our lifetimes, Sherlock,” I eventually resort to say, realizing I’m feeling slightly dizzy - the shock, the benzo, his stare. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t. Care. I mean.”

More seconds pass. They eavesdrop, they dance in the room, its air thick with our scents (sleep, leather, upholstery, sweat, whiskey?) My flatmate remains unmoving, the bloody vampire. “Right,” he says eventually, before turning around again. “Goodnight, John.”

During the following days, we become... closer. It’s strange to observe, even stranger to feel. I find Sherlock doing our laundry one morning. It’s almost endearing, even though my white jumper is now bright pink after being washed with his aubergine shirt. He even makes me toast a couple of times, makes sure I’m always properly nourished. I don’t catch him checking my vitals again, to my slight disappointment, as I realize with a feeling of dread one day. But I remain feeling quite touched. If not a bit flattered.

Also, my blog is booming. He develops a habit of mocking my titles, but even though he’s the king of banter, I am the writer in this equation. I make him internet famous, he makes me tea. Deep down, I know we both like it.

One night about a week later, I’m at a medical conference in Dublin, I’ve had a couple of beers, and I’m flirting with a beautiful brunette. An oncologist. She’s brilliant and sexy. I think her name’s Sue? And then the facetime app on my phone starts ringing. I’ve been ignoring Sherlock’s increasingly urgent texts all night. They ranged from “John, are you up?” and “I need your insight on the comic book case” to “Pick up John it is a matter of life and death”.

“I’m sorry, I need to get this,” I sigh, and Sophia (?) looks frustrated. My knees wobbles as I try to stand up from the bar stool and it takes a while for my feet to get accustomed to the floor again. “What do you want?” I hiss at the camera after picking up.

“The printer, John, it’s all in the printer. I need you to find out the model of the printer, quickly.” He looks... naked, wrapped in a white sheet, in what seems like his bed. My flatmate texts me “u up” when I’m away, and then facetimes me from his bed in nothing but a sheet. No wonder people talk.

“I’ve met someone, Sherlock,” I whisper-shout, walking out of the pub and the cold Dublin air slaps me in the face. “It was going very well until you rudely interrupted us...”

“Don’t tell me you’re not in the least bit excited to hear my brilliant deductions, then write all about it in your little blog...”

“I’ve met someone, as I just told you. The world doesn’t revolve around you...”

“I don’t think that the world revolves around me,” he says, looking terribly offended. “Although admittedly it would make much more sense if it did...”

“Come on, Sherlock,” I chuckle at the camera. “I see how you dress, flamboyance is your middle name, and you love an audience. Need I remind you that my first role in your turbulent life was that of a skull on the mantelpiece?”

“You’ve evolved since then.”

I’m left gaping incredulously at the level of his audacity. “Well, ta.”

“Anyway, John, contrary to your assumptions about my person, and despite the fact that I still do think you would profit profoundly from an introduction to the joys of custom-tailored trousers, I don’t care what people think.”

I hear myself giggling in the middle of the pavement as people less drunk than I am pass by, chatting merrily. The buzz of the city makes me somewhat giddy too. “Prove it.”

“How?”

“Wear what you’re wearing now during our next case.”

“What do I get if I do that?”

“You see, you don't have the balls to do that...”

“What do I get?”

“My acknowledgment and utmost respect.”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Dull.”

“Okay, okay,” I chuckle again. “I’ll buy us dinner. Wherever you want.”

“Cafe Royal?”

“Cafe Royal.”

“Fine,” a wide smile spreads on his face. It’s endearing, really.

When I return inside, Susannah is unfortunately nowhere to be seen.

Sherlock, please tell me you’re not currently headed where I’ve just been informed I’m headed wearing that sheet. I was drunk last night when I dared you.

Reservation for two at the Cafe Royal at eight. See you soon. SH

And God save Her, of course. SH

To be continued...

#sherlock holmes #john watson #johnlock #bbc sherlock #johnlock fanfiction #johnlock fic #sherlock #fanfiction #queer

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nsb-rkive · 2 years

Note

If it’s possible two nsb reactions? Nsb reaction to you being a baddie and nsb reaction to you being a gamer god/godess/royalty. love your writing btw 💕

(sorry if I took a lot, hope you like anyways<3)

𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙨/𝙤 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙜𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧🎮

PAIRING(S):: nsb x reader

GENRE(S):: soft/fluff, reaction, req

W.C:: 0.9k

WARNING(S):: none

NOT CHECKED TWICE

AU:: hi everyone im back!! Sorry for being dry, but i was on vacation and I’ve also done a few things so I didn't have so much time to post, sorry:// Anyways hope you enjoy! <3

🎮 | Oliver

So, Oliver doesn't play video games that much as the other ones do, but I don't think that would be a big deal if his s/o was a gamer. Of course he’d rather spend time with you as much as possible, so he might interrupt and distract you from your games, but I don’t think he’d turn it into a big problem, yk. “Babe can we go out?” “Babe i want your attention, you’ve been playing for 2 hours straight now” and ofc, as a good simp, you would stop playing and start giving attention to your boyfriend. He’s a really sweet guy, he would do anything for you, so when you’d ask him to play valorant with him, he’d hesitate at first but accept it. He looks so cute while sitting between your legs, with you behind him explaining and helping him with the game I'M SOBBING.

🎮 | Kane

Kane doesn't really mind, tbh. I think he’d just lay on his bed and watch anime till you’re done playing. Otherwise, he’d watch you playing and try to learn more from you. “OMG HOW DID U DO THAT” “Damn my girl is a pro AHAHA” bet he would say things like this. I think he’d also try to challenge you “We all know i am going to win, come on” then lose IM LAUGHING SO HARD PLS- as we all know, he hates losing even tho he always do LMAO so i think he’d get “mad” at you for laughing and making fun of the words the said earlier. Just know that everything has a consequence, so be ready for a revenge cuz this boy ain't letting you rest

🎮 | Justin

Oh lord, Justin won't leave you alone, especially after you started playing valorant. He’d ask you to play with him whenever you both are free, it’s so cute of him😭 “Fuck y/n did you train or something? How come you are beating me at killing??” He’d start bragging about how good you are at playing and this shit. Probably you would go to one of those computer cafeterias for some gaming date or to relax after watching a movie or sum. Just go play with him when u can, he loves to see your concentrate face while u play HE IS SO CUTE PLEASE

🎮 | Regie

He wouldn't believe you at first, but after you showed him your skills at playing valo, he immediately changed his mind. I dont think he plays valo that much, but Dota, so he’d probably ask you to play with him. If you dont know how to play it, he’ll teach you how to do it. Same as Oliver, but this time you are sitting on his legs while he leads your hands on the mouse and keyboard. You’d get excited because you are slowly learning and he cant help but giggle and smile while thinking about how cute you are. The urge to punch him for being so pretty and adorable damn it

🎮 | Ryan

So, as we know way too damn well, Ryan is a gamer, so bet he’d be more than happy to have a partner who’s too. He would ask you to join him to play valorant together. Ofc you’d play other games too, like Fall Guys or League of Legends, but he just finds it so cute how competitive you become while playing. You two would yell so loud that even the neighbors would come to your place to complain abt it LMAOAOAOAO DEF ME. It seems all cute but man don't be fooled by his rbf, ryan could get pissed if u win the game PLS💀💀 “Babe what’s wrong?” “Nothing sigh” you can clearly tell he is pissed so let him win the game so mf doesn't complain that much😭😭😭 He’d probably download and buy more games just for you to play together AWWW MY BABY

🎮 | Darren

As much as he likes playing video games, I don't think Darren plays that much tbh, but still he thinks it’s really cool that his s/o is a gamer. Like Justin, he’d probably go around and brag abt u being a gamer. Sometimes he’d look at you while playing, but usually he prefers lying down and putting his head on your tights while looking at his phone. BIG ASS HEAD BEING SO CUTE HELP After you are done playing he’d probably take you out for an ice cream or something. Make sure to give him a lot of attention tho, or mf will interrupt you in the middle of the game to kiss your lips fight me darren🤺

🎮 | Sebastian

Like Oliver and Darren, Seb doesnt play that much, maybe less than Darren, but still it doesnt bother him if you were a gamer. He’d let you play as much as you want, and while you do so, he’d work or watch Netflix. “What game is this? Oh I've never played it before, can I try?” such a cUTIEEEEE CRYING He can be annoying as HELL sometimes, but he just loves you a lot, and he wants to keep you as close as possible because you are his first partner (cap), or at least he considers you as it. He be trying to interrupt your game but fails miserably, like many Kane’s pranks😭😭😭 Sometimes you are too focused on your game, that you dont even notice that he went for a motorcycle ride like 2 hours ago 😭 PLEASE THIS IS SO ME💀💀

#north star boys #regie macalino #azngami #darren liang #justin phan #kane ratan #oliver moy #ryan nguyen #sebastian moy #fanfic #nsb rkive #nsb #reactions #nsb x reader #gender neutral fanfic #requested #gimme a boyfriend like ryan please im begging you #crying while writing this

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grabyoursaintsandpray · 14 hours

Text

Want to read an Elsa/Jack drabble?

Considering this is only relevant to a handful of my followers, I've thrown it and some backstory behind the cut.

Well first to explain, I've been ridiculously ill all week, some kind of flu/chest infection I'm not sure, all I know is it's wiped me out and I've been getting home from work and going straight to bed every day. I hadn't written anything in days and I think I made like one gifset this week because looking at the screen so intently hurt my eyes. So this was a pleasant surprise possible fever dream

It's like 900 words, not quite crack but possibly crack adjacent, completely unedited because I wrote it on my notes app which has no spell check or anything and why was me being ill relevant to the story? Well because my brain is mostly mush at this point, my temperature has been 39c (Standard is 36-37) so I'm just warning you that this isn't necessarily good and also probably expect errors.

But I thought I'd share (though it's not ao3 worthy) because I haven't written anything for WBN since January, honestly I was a little worried that maybe I'd lost the ability but no turns out I just need to run such a high temp that it melts the writers block right out of my brain.

Hopefully this is the kickstarter to being able to crank out an actual story at some point but for now I'm going to go back to huddling up on the sofa in my Gengar Oodie.

----🐺----

Elsa was not one for sitting idly, much preferring to have some kind of mission, some kind of goal in mind.

Maybe that's due to the life she's led, constantly on the move, never staying in one place too long. It comes with the monster hunting territory she supposes.

It's different now, life is different now. She has a home, somewhere real and permanent that she can return to. She also has more of a purpose, the Bloodstone that is currently conspicuously absent from around her neck seeing to that.

She slides her eyes over to the man beside her, who is practically buzzing with glee because there's one last difference, a big one and his name is Jack.

If there was one thing that had completely turned her life upside down, it was him.

Not that she minds of course, most of the time anyway. In fact normally she's eternally grateful for him quite literally stumbling into her path and changing the direction she had been heading in.

Today though, well today she was not grateful because in all his questionable wisdom, Jack had decided that she was due for some R and R.

Yeah, in theory? Sounded great. Maybe they take a weekend off from monster hunting, rent a little place somewhere the two of them can be alone and reconnect with each other.

Unfortunately, she wasn't being whisked away to a cabin in the middle of nowhere or a quiet island with a private beach.

No, she was checking them both into a spa.

"Do you like it?" Jack had asked as they pulled into the car park and as she turned, seeing those beautiful eyes, wide with excitement and nerves, she found her irritation crumbling.

"It's great" She promised him, mouth tilted in a half smile. He practically slumped in relief and she withheld the sigh wanting to escape her lips.

It was fine, she could get through this. It was hanging around a bunch of people and trying to relax, not torture. She'd laugh about it in a bit.

----

She wasn't laughing. Two hours later and she's slowly losing the will to live.

They'd been in the jacuzzi, great except for the four other people there with them. Steam room, same deal and honestly it felt like sitting in a bloody volcano anyway. Who enjoys that kind of shit?

She begged off going into the swimming pool. Jack, it turns out wasn't too keen on swimming either, which did at least amuse her slightly. She thought all dogs were born with the ability to swim, or was that some kind of strange myth she'd picked up over the years?

With all the various wet things fortunately out of the way and Jack unfortunately out of his swimming trunks and back into his regular clothes. They headed into the relaxation room before their massages.

Her arse was numb from lying on what was truly some kind of instrument of torture masquerading as a bed. For a thing supposed to promote comfort and relaxation, they sure chose a bizarre style in which to do it.

It was solid for starters, no soft fabric to sink into and rest your head on, in fact she painfully banged hers with a loudly echoing thump the second she tried to lay down.

She understood the tile which it was made of was to keep it heated easily but that still didn't stop her from feeling like she was lying on the bathroom floor.

The bizarre hazy purple hue to the room had also left her feeling mildly disoriented and she worried for the sake of her eyesight once she stepped back into the sun.

Not to mention the music being piped in, some hideous repetitive... plinky plonky sounds that barely classified as actual noises, let alone music. There was a wonderful change-up an undetermined amount of time later with seagull sounds being added in, that truly made her contemplate jumping through the nearest window.

She turned her head, neck cracking at the stiff position it had been kept in, to check on Jack. Surely he must be bored by now? If she finds it hard to sit still normally then he is usually like a kid hopped up on sugar.

It really shouldn't surprise her to see that he is completely knocked out. His chest softly rising and falling soothingly.

She lets out a quiet whisper of his name, nothing.

A spiteful part of her wants to yell it, watch him startle so hard he falls onto the probably much softer floor. She stops herself, she's a bitch sure but she has some decorum.

Plus he deserves this much more than she does. They've hunted nonstop for the last few months with the last one being a close call that she truly doesn't like to think about.

She hadn't been paying attention and it nearly cost her life. Worse, it nearly cost his life because of course he spotted the incoming danger and threw himself in front of her, taking the brunt of the damage to a terrifying degree.

She knows that's the reason he's booked this spa for them. It had shaken them both to their core and he just wanted some sense of normality, of just being a couple without all the death and destruction inherent in their line of work.

So she'd give him this, she would let him sleep and soon she would endure being prodded by a stranger and at the end of the day she'd tell him how great it felt and how relaxed she now was and they'd go home, feeling that little bit closer. If she gripped him a little tighter at night, if she woke him up screaming his name in terror then they'd both gracefully ignore it but he'd tuck her closer and whisper sweet nothing's into her ear in Spanish until she drifted back off, the same way he always does.

It was a fair trade and honestly, she'd laugh about this tomorrow, she's sure.

#werewolf by night fanfiction #There's a tag I haven't used in a while #Its like welcoming an old friend #fanfic

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ode-to-odes · 7 months

Text

RPG Review: Journey of 1000 Zips

Well... if it's listed on itch as an RPG, then that's what it is... right?? In any case, this was one of the evenings I've ever had. Truly spectacular.

To play this game, you open 1000 nested zip files. Every file is numbered, so you can see how far you have left to go, and occasionally Elliot (@morebluebs) has left a comment in a file name. It's a dialogue between two people slowly losing their minds, in a way.

I spent two hours of my life on this game, and to be completely honest, I wish I hadn't. I also think Elliot wishes he hadn't made it, so at least all's fair in love and zipped files. This "game" is only for those with immense hubris and a growing to-do list filled with tasks they don't want to complete. That said, I'd rate it a 10/10 if I were a rating type of woman, which I'm not.

In order to keep myself sane, I took notes on the thoughts going through my mind as I played this game. Read under the cut to witness my descent into madness. Perhaps that will be enough to deter you from playing it yourself.

File 999. Let's do it.

950. I appreciate the title. Hoping for more of these as we keep going

900. No, it wasn’t that bad. I don’t know why I’m not listening to music while I do this. Perhaps I intuitively understand that this needs to be done in as boring an environment as possible.

899. okay

819. AH!

801. wouldn’t open. I’ve been opening these within each other, so I assume 200 nested files is the limit on my laptop. I moved file 802 to be by itself in my downloads folder and tried again. 801 opened. Huzzah, and the journey continues.

I also can’t believe this took Elliot over a year to make this. I assume this was a boredom and procrastination project. Kudos for ever finishing it tbh

800. I know. I’m doing it anyway

750. doesn’t have a comment in the file name. I didn’t realize I’d started to look forward to the names ever fifty files. Disappointed, I carry on.

743. I see we’re being unpredictable. Does the creator know that by making the opening of each file a gamble, opening these becomes more fun? Belatedly I realize that the opening of file 750 marked a quarter of the journey. Am even more disappointed op didn’t say anything to commemorate this moment.

700. I lost the ability to quit when I opened the first file. I’m committing to the bit. Fuck you.

650. once again, no mid-hundred title. I’m taking this moment to comment that as I do this, my sister is sitting next to me watching a frankly terrible horror movie. I am, I think, ashamed to say I find this activity more enjoyable.

627. Divisible by three, but not by nine.

608. Huzzah! My sister has decided to skip ahead in her movie because it’s boring her. I cannot do the same for my chosen entertainment tonight.

607 is empty. I tried opening it again. 607 2 is also empty. Migration attempt incoming.

Second migration of the night worked. continuing on. While I can’t say I’m enjoying this anymore, I’m glad that this does in fact appear to be 1000 nested files. I would never forgive Elliot if it ended prematurely

600. Don’t ask me to explain my decisions.

564. Elliot, do you feed on the part of my soul that I’m losing while playing this?

525. What does carpal tunnel feel like?

499. I feel nothing.

492. My sister asked me what I was doing. I explained to her. She asked me why I was doing this. I told her I didn’t know. She said nothing and then left. About as much of a response as I could’ve hoped for

461. Hey now. I could have done any number of things to procrastinate. You’re not special, Elliot.

432. Also divisible by three. Obviously I’m not listing every number divisible by three. But it just occurred to me here. As long as I’m taking a break from clicking, I’m going to move from the kitchen to my bedroom now that my sister has finished her movie and gone to bed. My wrist won’t stop cracking.

40 minutes later and I’m back at it.

425. In anticipation of the next file failure, I migrate this one earlier. plus if there’s a comment on 420 I can enjoy it unimpeded by the 200 file limit

407. A number that feels like it should be prime but isn’t

351. This isn’t getting any easier. However, it isn’t getting harder, either. That forty minute break did wonders for the one wrist muscle I’m using to do this.

333. Roughly 2/3 of the way there, although obviously not exactly. I think it would be an interesting psychology study to see how different people react to having to do this.

321. favorite one so far, definitely made me smile

294. Some people could probably find it in them to quit now.

284. I believe it. Why would you make this. Just to prove you could? Was 1000 the maximum files you could nest, or could you have kept going? Maybe one day we’ll have a sequel and it’ll just be 2000 files. I’d probably play that too. I don’t know why. But I think I would.

260. Another migration. This was definitely less than 200 files, but whatever. Will migrate again at 100 for the auspiciousness.

250. 75% done. I started this an hour and forty minutes ago. 100 minutes ago. So probably half an hour left. It feels like it should be less.

219. If I told my mom about this, she’d probably tell me that downloading things like this off the internet is a one way trip to getting malware on your computer. While I trust itch.io strangers much more than she does, can you imagine explaining that to the person you hire to fix your computer? “Yeah, I downloaded a file off the internet. It contained 1000 zip files nested within each other. I opened every single one and then the last one had this gnarly virus.” Like,,,,, you’d really be bringing that upon yourself. My friend hopes the last file contains something; he predicts the game of thrones shame gif. While I’d appreciate a fun little image, I fully expect there to be nothing except the last file just being called something like “you did it. Congrats on the most pointless accomplishment ever” well. Back to it

198. Elliot, if you had to go through the pain of making this, some of us might as well go through the pain of playing it.

175. I realized I forgot to point out 197, which is the Pokédex number for umbreon, my favorite Pokemon. home stretch.

135. I’m obviously tired. I did the math all wrong. Forgot to subtract the forty minutes I spent not doing this. This began at roughly 8:40 PM. It’s 10:34. So 1 hour 54 minutes minus forty. 74 minutes to open 865 files. Those numbers aren’t nice enough for me to do mental math, but I think I’ll be done in like ten minutes. Lets go!!

117. marks the first time the zipped file had a comment. Before this you had to unzip the file to see the comment. Which begs the question, is this something Elliot changed partway through, or will this be the only time it happens? I guess we’ll see.

I also realized 111 will be the last time we have repeating digit in a 3 digit number. 999 was the first… how far we’ve come.

111!!!! I feel like Elliot a bit. Is anyone going to read this? Am I screaming to the void?? Par for the course, I suppose.

100. Zipped file also has the comment. Clearly Elliot didn’t know how to do it differently at first. Anyway. Time for the final migration!

85. Seeing 2-digit numbers is jarring after all this time.

69 nice.

40. You know what would be so fucking funny? If we got to file 1 and it was labeled 1000 and then there were 1000 more files. I know Elliot didn’t do this - he doesn’t have it in him. But it would be so fucked up. I think that would make me quit. 1000 is enough

19. My favorite number. I can’t believe this is almost over.

2. This is it.

#rpg #rpg review #solo rpg #I think this is a GREAT first game to review #maybe I should just stop here #jk #but it's very me to make a blog to review text-based/journaling/solo rpgs #and have the first one be a game that's not even actually a game #or an rpg #despite being listed as one #perhaps someday we'll get into what an rpg is exactly and whether or not this counts as one #thanks elliot for this terrible evening i owe u one

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nightraiderwrites · 1 year

Text

Déja vu

Summary: Doc's just built the world eater, and Joe processes trauma.

Tw: hefty descriptions of moon big, like super heavy unreality, and uh I think that's it. Lemme know if you need anything added.

¤¤¤¤¤

Joe is mining obsidian.

Now, that would not normally be a notable thing, if he wasn't mining it directly underneath approximately fifty exploding tnt. But Doc called on the HHH for help, so help he did. Joe would never turn away a Hermit in need. Never.

But he does wonder, though. He wonders why Doc would create a machine of vast destruction, considering the experience they all had. The bright, bright lights, and the deep, burning heat.

Joe supposes it's his way of coping. Destruction in a way they could control. After all, when the world ended, no one had control for what happened.

And honestly, it's probably healthier than everything else people are doing to cope.

□□□

Sometimes, Joe dreams.

The wind pushes him backward, and he squints through his glasses. He readies another firework to launch, when he spots a flaming debris about to hit him. Joe tries rolls out of the way, but it clips his wing. The elytra shudder, and catch fire. It slowly spreads up, heating his lower back. He throws it off, letting the syrupy gravity drag him downward, like some fallen angel.

His heart gives a drumroll, to the grim realization he'll never see Cleo again, or host a HHH or do anything, really. He realizes he'll burn here, and no one will know. No one will ever find his corpse, because he stares at the giant moon looming over him, and he knows. It's going to fall, just like him, and nothing can stop it.

And as he falls, he thinks. He really didn't expect the world to end like this. There are flaming rocks right and left, and Joe hopes one of them hits him before he hits the ground; he hopes death is painless. It's so bright, Joe thinks.

Joe doesn't know why it's so scary to him. He's died before! He's the man who conquered death, for goodness sake. This is different though. It's one thing to look Death in the eye and say no, when Death is simply being mauled by a zombie, or flying too fast. It's another thing to say no when the world is falling apart, and you're falling with it.

Then he jolts awake.

Then he realizes he's in a simulation.

Then he realizes he's in his haunted house.

Then he's in the hospital wing.

Then he's in Cleo's bed, sobbing because he thought he'd never see her again and he loves her very much but in a platonic way and you know he didn't mean to leave her right oh gods Cleo I'm so sorry-

Then Cleo will hug him tight and he can feel his tears dripping on her skin, which really isn't good for rotten flesh, oh dear Cleo, I'm good now, you can let go-

Then she'll hug him tighter, cutting him off. She'll say that he's being stupid, he's clearly not ok, but they'll deal with it in the morning.

And if they fall asleep hugging each other, with Joe's glasses catching on Cleo's stitching, and her flowers growing around Joe, that's no one's business.

□□□

Joe would say he's doing well. He would say he's coping, and he certainly doesn't need help. Joe accepts the fact he may be losing his mind, but he's pretty sure other people on the server need help more than him, so he just pushes his needs away. He likes helping the others anyway.

It is a well known fact Joe Hills is a terrible liar.

¤¤¤¤¤

Woah! This has been a long time coming. Since *checks dates* 12th of May! Around then, Joe was doing a HHH for Doc, removing obsidian for him that the sweepers didn't catch. He had moment in where he stopped mining and just looked up at the world eater. Did it kick this off for me? Yes! Was it buried under a couple dozen other projects until I was cleaning my notes up? Also yes!

I think most of them, in world, haven't really processed the trauma. That kind of trauma is huge, and none have them have taken a chance to go to therapy or something. This piece was about that, and also an opportunity to write Joe. He's such a character, but also like just a guy™️. I am also just a guy™️ so I sort of wrote it how I would react. Which is just shove my trauma away and focus on other things? I guess?

Anyway as always, thanks for reading. Reblogs are always appreciated, as is feedback.

I'll see you next time, folks.

#nightraider writes #writing #writers on tumblr #hermitcraft #joe hills #zombiecleo #zombie cleo

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heyyyharry · 1 year

Text

Deep End - Chapter 17: Die for Me

...in which Ezi feels betrayed, and Harry just wants to help.

AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.

WARNING: MATURE THEMES

All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist

A/N: Starting my new job tomorrow, kinda nervous but excited!!! Enjoy this chapter. New update next week :)

A million thoughts ran through Harry’s mind when Maggie took him to her home. It was an old block of flats near Shadwell station. Hers was the door numbered 27 on the ground floor.

“I hope she’s awake now,” Maggie said as she unlocked the door. There was light coming out of the room at the end of the hallway, and Maggie beckoned Harry to follow. The flat was cold and wet, with muddy boot prints on the wooden floor, but it didn’t make any difference since both Harry and Maggie were soaked from the rain anyway.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Maggie said as she entered the room. “Harry is here to see you, dear.”

When Harry stepped in, Ezi’s blue eyes pinned him to the spot. She was sitting on the bed in Maggie’s funky rainbow t-shirt; her forehead and arms were bruised. Maggie had told Harry that Ezi had fallen from the bridge, and honestly, he had imagined worse, so this was quite a big relief. He did wonder how Maggie had managed to dive in and save her, but that was a question for later.

“Hi, Ezi. How are you feeling?” There was no response or reaction, so he continued, “I was very worried when I heard. I’m glad you’re safe now.”

Still nothing. Just two hollowed eyes staring at him like they didn’t speak the same language.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Maggie said.

It was then that Ezi spoke. "Get out. No, not you, Maggie. You can stay. I don't want him here."

Harry's gaze jumped to Maggie, who was now half a step out of the door. She slowly looked up, eyes locked with his.

He didn't know what he was expecting, for her to say something, maybe? He wished she would defend him and try to convince Ezi to just hear him out. But Maggie only stared back, helpless, as if saying, 'Maybe you should go.'

But you fucking asked me to come here, Harry wanted to say, but he clenched his fists and took a deep breath.

Ezi still refused to meet his eyes. She had her arms crossed in front of her chest and an agonising look on her face. It was at this moment that Harry thought about her falling into the dark water, her struggling to swim, drowning and helpless against the currents for the first time in her life. She must have been so scared. He wished he'd been there. He would have jumped in and tried to save her.

"Ezi--"

"What did I say?" she snapped. "Get the hell out or I'll start screaming and the neighbours will come. Maybe they'll even call the police." She whipped her head to Maggie with a threatening glare. "You wouldn't want the police to knock on your door, right?"

Maggie tugged gently at Harry's soaked sleeve. "M-Maybe you should go outside for a bit."

But Harry was impatient. He shrugged off Maggie and strode over to the bed, and Ezi recoiled and gripped the duvet tightly to her chest, an alarmed look on her face as he sat down on the edge of it and reached for her. She didn't think he meant any harm, did she?

"Hey, listen." Carefully, he placed his hand on her knee and felt her stiffen against his touch. He hated this. What had he done? "Ezi, please hear me out."

"I've heard enough," she hissed. "My sister tried to kill me, my queendom is in danger, and now I can't go home. Are you happy now?"

"Of course not. How could you say that?"

"Harry, maybe you should go.”

Maggie’s attempt to intervene was ignored.

"When Maggie told me what happened to you, I was so scared I'd lose you. Why do you think I came?"

"You came because you feel guilty." The words came out of Ezi’s mouth so fast that Harry believed she'd spent this whole time thinking of the reason why. "You want me to forgive you for the horrible things you said so you could move on. Well, guess what? I'm not a person, remember? I don't feel, and therefore, I have no sympathy for you.” There was a pause, and then, the worst thing she could possibly say to him, "You will never get my forgiveness, Harry." Her voice was shaking, her lashes wet. "I can't believe for a second...I was willing to die for you."

When coming here, Harry had prepared himself to get yelled at or have stuff thrown at him depending on how well Ezi was, but to hear her say she would never forgive him left him completely numb. His hand fell back onto his lap, and he sat there, watching her turn her back to him and yank the duvet up to her neck. As she pretended to fall back to sleep, he got up and quietly left the room.

“Hope you like herbal tea. I don’t really drink tea.”

“Thank you.”

Maggie placed the steaming cup down on the table, and Harry instantly warmed his hands on it. The kitchen was just as cold as the rest of the flat, and while waiting for the water to boil, Harry had taken some time to observe. Everything here seemed clean and tiny but didn’t really feel like it. He paid attention specifically to the seashells collection on top of the fridge and the dead flowers, which had sat in that dusty vase for so long that they’d turned black. Since this building was so close to the tube station, you could hear the train from the distance.

“It gets quieter after midnight,” Maggie said as she sat down in front of Harry with her own cup of tea. Harry’s cup was plain white, but hers was shaped like a fox.

Harry blew into his cup and took a sip. “So, how did you manage to find Ezi? Did she tell you she was going to the bridge?”

“Not at all. I followed her there because I assumed that would be the place she would meet the Sea Queen.”

Harry froze while Maggie just calmly took a sip of her steaming tea.

“What…did you just say?” he asked.

The steam fogged up her glasses, so she took them off, folded them, and set them down on the table. Without them, her blue eyes were more vivid than usual, almost resembling Ezi’s. The colour of the sea.

Chills rushed down Harry’s spine and he swallowed thickly. “You know what she is?”

“Harry, darling,” Maggie said. “I am what she is.”

“You’re…a siren?”

“Well, I used to be. Decades ago. My sister killed the man I loved. He was a fisherman. I was supposed to become the next Sea Queen, but my sister had always been jealous of me. She knew I was in love with a fisherman, so she murdered him and ate his heart. But then she suddenly possessed power so strong that she could raise the ocean and drown an entire island. She turned me into a human and forced me to live eternity in this world while she told everyone that I had been killed by my lover. And I must tell you this, immortality is overrated. People mourn and forget about you, and you have to watch every single person you know pass away.”

That was too much for Harry to take. He could feel the pounding of his heart inside his own head. After a moment of silence, he managed to ask, “Have you told Ezi?”

“Yes. She was more shocked than you, actually. But deep down, she knows I’m someone she can trust. I think we established this mutual understanding from the moment we first met. After all, we both share royal blood. One Queen would recognise the other.”

“Does that mean she’s gonna be trapped here for eternity as well?”

“Unlikely. I think her sister took the pig’s heart, thinking it was your heart, and attempted to kill her, but failed.”

“We have to do something.”

“We are no match for the Sea Queen. It’s Ezi who has to stand up for herself.”

“I don’t want her to end up like you.” The words flew out before Harry could stop himself, causing Maggie to stare at him, wide-eyed. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant,” he stuttered. “But Ezi is a good person. Not that I’m saying you’re not, but Ezi never really wants to be Queen. She just wants to make her mother proud. She just wants to be loved like any of us in this godforsaken world. She belongs here with me. She deserves to have a normal life here with a family that appreciates her, and if those creatures believe she’s dead, then we cannot allow her to face them.”

“Those creatures are her family.”

“By blood, not by choice.” Harry clenched his fist so he wouldn’t slam it on the table. “I’m not letting her go back to the ocean after what they put her through.”

Maggie broke into laughter as she slowly shook her head. “Do you have any idea what you’re talking about, child? When they realise the heart they have is not yours, they will come back for you. The Sea Queen would do anything for your heart. Now you may say you don’t care, that you will gladly die for your damsel in distress or whatever, but what you’re thinking right now isn’t heroic; it’s foolish. This is not your fight, Harry. If the Sea Queen got your heart, she would wipe out humankind.”

“So you’re saying I have no choice but to lose Ezi?”

Maggie reached across the table to hold his trembling hand as she looked into his eyes. For a moment, they shared a sense of understanding. “If you care about Ezi, you must stay back and let her fight her own battle.”

Harry picked up his cup of tea and sipped away in silence. Then, he asked, “Did you turn back into a siren to save Ezi from the river?”

Maggie smiled. “No. I’m just a really good swimmer.”

Harry woke up to find Ezi staring at him. He was sitting in the armchair facing her bed, unsure how or how long ago he’d fallen asleep, but it seemed like she had been awake for a while; she’d read a big chunk of the book lying open and face down on her lap.

“You know, you talk in your sleep,” she said suddenly, breaking the nerve-wracking silence between them. Harry didn’t expect her to acknowledge his existence after her tantrum earlier, so he really didn’t know what that observation was supposed to mean.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asked, combing his fingers through his messy hair.

“No, it’s just gibberish, really. But you seemed frightened.”

He had a good reason to be. Although he didn’t quite remember the specifics, he’d had a short nightmare about falling into the ocean, and he’d just kept falling and falling. There had been flashes of a half-fish, half-human creature, and the stench of blood was alarmingly vivid. When the claws ripped his chest open, the last thing he saw was Ezi’s face, his blood dripping from her fangs.

“It’s alright,” he said. “I’m alright.”

Ezi only nodded. This eerie nonchalance wasn’t like her at all, and he kind of wished she would start yelling at him again. Instead, she flipped the duvet to the side, revealing her broken ankle, which had been bandaged by Maggie. Speaking of Maggie, where the hell was that woman? She had told Harry to watch Ezi as she went out to get groceries, so she should be home by now.

“Would you mind helping me out of bed? I want a bath,” Ezi said.

Harry was frozen in shock for a second, then he snapped out of it and quickly got up from the chair to help her. She could barely walk, so she had her arm around his neck and held onto him as she limped to the bathroom. He would offer to carry her, but he wasn’t sure if they were cool enough for that yet; she couldn’t have forgiven him after one short nap.

He drew the bath with extra hot water, just the way she liked it, and waited for her to strip off her clothes so he could settle her into the bath. She lay there, her bandaged ankle resting on the edge of the tub, looking relaxed as if she’d just finished her 9-to-5 and not survived from attempted murder by her own sister. After his conversation with Maggie, Harry knew Ezi couldn’t have that simple life, but he couldn’t help but fantasise about one for them.

“If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen. Just call.” Harry turned to leave, but Ezi stopped him.

“Wait. Can you stay here with me?”

He stared at her. “You want me to stay?”

“Yeah, to make sure I don’t fall asleep. I don’t want my bandage wet.”

“Okay. I’ll stay then.” He came to sit on the floor beside the tub, elbow resting on the edge, head against his knuckles. Steam curled up from the water as she soaked her entire body in, only leaving her head above the surface. They sat in silence, listening to the dripping of the sink. Harry had so much to say, yet he didn’t want to give her a reason to dismiss him. Maybe she’d thought it through and changed her mind about him. Letting him stay here with her could be her way of showing forgiveness.

“When you said I wasn’t a person,” she spoke suddenly yet quietly, “was there any part of you that meant it?”

He nervously wet his lip. “To say no would be a lie. So yes, only at that moment, though,” he sighed. “It was like…oh, I think I’m in love with this girl, but now I find out she’s been plotting to murder me this whole time, so maybe none of it was real.”

Ezi nodded once. “Fair enough.”

Her response made him chuckle. “You know, you sound very British now.”

“Guess I’m easily influenced,” she said, giggling a little. It felt good to hear her laugh again.

“But I’m very sorry about the things I said out of anger. I didn’t mean them.”

“That’s okay. I know you didn’t. I guess I was being a little bit harsh, too. I just...well, it was a lot. Feeling betrayed by you and then my sister also betrayed me, and I..."

She left the sentence unfinished. Silence seeped back in as Harry watched her stare intensely at her broken ankle.

“Why didn't you believe me when I said I loved you?”

His question caught her by surprise, and her brows furrowed thoughtfully. “Why do you believe you love me? I’m not trying to be mean or anything, but as you said, love is a complicated thing. It’s not one emotion. You can’t possibly know what love feels like.”

“Yeah, well…I don’t know. But I miss you when you’re not around. I get happy when you are. I think about you in the middle of the day. And I’ve been having these scenarios of you, me, and Chilli just having a normal life together, away from the fame and your murderous family. I know I’m just a useless human. I don't have magical powers, nor am I the ruler of a kingdom, but I want to protect you and keep you safe. If that's not love, it's something very close.”

“Well...I wouldn’t know.”

“I think you do, Ezi,” Harry said. “When was the moment you realised you couldn’t kill me?”

“This may sound silly, but I think it was bedtime, and you were reading to me and Chilli, and you were so tired that you stumbled over your words.”

“You didn’t want to kill me because I couldn’t read properly?”

She rolled her eyes at the joke. “It was when I realised I didn’t want to be Queen or my mother’s puppet. I just wanted to be in bed with you and the cat after a long day and listen to bedtime stories.”

When she placed her hand on top of his, Harry squeezed it tight and brought it to his lips.

“Harry!” Maggie’s shout made Harry jump. He told Ezi that he would be right back and hurried to the hallway to see what Maggie needed. But Maggie had brought another guest home with her.

“Dawson?”

“This handsome boy saw me at the station, and I told him about Ezi so he wanted to come check on her,” Maggie said as she unzipped her boots. Meanwhile, Dawson stood there holding two grocery bags and gave Harry a tight-lipped smile.

Maggie headed to the kitchen, and the men followed. Watching Dawson put away the groceries, Harry couldn’t even act like he wasn’t upset. He came to stand beside Maggie by the table. “You told him about Ezi?”

“He’s her friend, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, but not every friend of hers needs to know.”

“Harry, I’m literally right here. I can hear you.”

“Yeah, I know, Dawson. You shouldn’t even be here.”

Eyes narrowed, Maggie flicked her finger between them. “I sense some tension here. Is there any rivalry backstory that I need to know?”

“No,” Harry and Dawson said at the same time, but it was obvious in the death stare they’d been giving each other. What was Dawson doing here anyway? Harry thought that it was clear that Ezi wasn’t interested in him. Why was he so persistent? Ezi probably didn’t even want to see hi—

“Dawson!”

“Ezi!”

Harry’s jaw dropped when Ezi – now with clothes on and her hair in a towel – limped into the kitchen to embrace Dawson. Okay, rude. What about their romantic moment in the bathroom?

“I’m so sorry for running away without an explanation,” Ezi said, eyes squeezed shut, still holding Dawson like he was a lifeboat in the middle of the storm. Harry tried to act unbothered, but it did make his skin crawl.

“It’s okay. I’m glad that you’re okay now. Maggie told me about your car crash.”

“Car crash?” Ezi blinked at Dawson, then whipped her head to Maggie and Harry. “You lied to him?”

“Well, I…I didn’t know if he knew…”

“He doesn’t,” Harry told Maggie.

Ezi let out and sigh and took Dawson’s hands. “I can’t keep lying to my friends, and I think you of all people should know the truth.”

“Erm, Ezi?” Harry spoke, but Ezi ignored him and told Dawson to take a seat, then sat down beside him. Harry opened his mouth but Maggie shushed him so Ezi could talk.

There was no way this was a good idea. Dawson would think Ezi was wrong in the head for admitting that she was actually a mythical creature. He wouldn’t believe her, but on second thought, maybe that would be for the best. If Dawson didn’t believe Ezi, he would leave, and Harry wouldn’t have to worry about him anymo—

“I believe you.”

“What?” Harry gasped, causing all heads to turn to him. Quickly, he sat down at the table across from his cousin. “You believe that she’s a siren? Really?”

“Yes.”

“Be fucking for real. You’re only saying that because you’re a simp.”

“Harry!” Ezi gasped, but Harry hadn’t said anything he didn’t mean.

“He probably thinks you’re crazy, Ezi. He doesn’t actually believe this without proof.”

“Well, I’ve spent enough time with her to know that she’s not just odd because she’s American, Harry. And to be honest, her being a siren is better than her being American.”

“Thank you, Dawson.”

“Absolutely ridiculous,” Harry hissed as he slumped back into his chair, arms crossed like an angry child.

Ezi sighed. “Guys, can you let me talk to Harry for a sec?”

“Yeah, sure, Dawson, come. I’d be happy to answer any of your questions about us,” Maggie said as she pulled Dawson up by his arm.

“Us? Wait, so you’re also a siren???” Dawson said before his voice faded into the hallway.

Now alone with Harry, Ezi’s smile was gone. “What the hell? Why were you acting like a dick?”

Harry leaned across the table so he could whisper angrily to her so the other two couldn’t hear. “Because you didn’t need to drag my cousin into this. He doesn’t have to be involved.”

“I’m tired of lying,” Ezi said. “And who cares if he knows? It’s not gonna change anything.”

Harry let out an exaggerated exhale as he threw his hands in the air. “Because he’s going to want to help, and if he dies, my mother will kill me. Maggie and I are enough help around here.”

“Who says any of you is gonna help me?” Ezi scoffed. “Tomorrow, I will come up with a plan and confront my mother on my own. I just don’t want to leave this world without telling the truth. I owe it to everyone here.”

“Wow, you’re so fucking strong and independent, aren’t you? You have to do everything on your own. I swear to God, Ezi, for fucking once, let other people help.”

Her eyes went wide with feigned shock. “Oh, what are you gonna do? You’re gonna punch my mother in the face when she shows up to rip out your heart? I think you humans underestimate how easily we can—"

“Listen," he cut her off, "when you told me you were willing to die for me, I told myself that I would not let that happen again. We’ll come up with something, but I want to help. After all, I will be her new target when she finds out the heart Koa brought to her isn’t real. Also, how did you manage to get a pig’s heart??? You know what? It doesn’t matter. What’s important is that I need to be there with you, and you can't get rid of me."

Worry edged into Ezi’s expression. “How do I know you won't abandon me again?"

"You need to trust me this time."

"Trust should be earned, not given."

"I'll earn it then. Just...don't push me away."

Ezi's expression immediately softened, and Harry knew he had said the right thing. Even though he wasn't sure if he was forgiven or not, it was reassuring to know she still wanted to give him another chance.

"I gotta go check on Dawson and make sure Maggie hasn’t traumatised him.”

Ezi pushed herself up from her chair, and Harry quickly got up to help her. “You know, if push comes to shove, we should sacrifice Dawson.”

With her arm around his neck, she shot him a glare. “Harry.”

“Sorry, sorry, just a thought,” he said, grinning.

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