#manner of death edit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

saintobio · 11 months ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐑. (second part to 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑.)

in the battle of hearts, he was the conqueror, and you, the conquered, for his love was a war you could never win. but if in this ruthless battlefield, only one can come out victorious, could you still turn things around and let the victor be you?

♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader

♱ genre. angst, smut, boss/assistant, 18+

♱ tags. villain!reader, reader previously works for onychinus, reader is not l&ds!mc, sylus is a little ooc, main story spoilers, melodic weave spoilers, lots of timeskip, fast-paced, lore heavy, unrequited love, profanity, petnames (kitten, sweetie), explicit smut, cunnilingus (f!receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, espionage, reader smoking, reckless driving, violence, spitting, choking, jealousy, usage of guns, suicide (or attempts thereof), death, and a twist in the end i can’t reveal.

♱ notes. 10.4k words too lazy to edit T-T also, there’s a scene that will remind you of nwh :))) part 1 is already fine as is, so this one is just an extra.

— 1 YEAR AFTER.

“Got an invitation?”

Only barely did you lift your head up, just enough to meet the bouncer’s eyes as you handed over the invitation. “I’m a regular.”

“Lady, I don’t think so.” The man scrutinized you with itching suspicion, then turned on his flashlight to verify the authenticity of your invitation by looking at every corner of the paper. Was he trying to look for any flaw just to say it was fake? Jesus. For an entire minute, his eyes darted between you and the letter, as though debating whether or not to let you inside.

“Come on,” you said impatiently, tapping your feet on the ground, “I’m not someone you should keep waiting.”

He was ready with a rebuttal, still reluctant to let you in, until a familiar sight of purple hair peeked from behind the entrance. Your savior for the night—it was Rafayel.

“Let her in,” he said, ushering you inside and giving the bouncer a knowing look. “She’s with me.”

Fucking finally.

The neon red LED signage of The Nest flickered against the grimy walls, serving as the only bright light in the sketchy dark surroundings. The bar was a haven for those seeking refuge from the law and a place to trade secrets, as it was brimming with intel from a network of people. From high ranking officials, businessmen, and criminals—just offer your part of the bargain and you’d find a good trade in no time.

It wasn’t your first time there, but your negative impression of the place remained unchanged.

You strode through the crowd with Rafayel, and your eyes scanned the room with practiced ease. There were still familiar faces around, though most of the people had gone unrecognized as it had been awhile since you last came here.

“Wearing a hoodie in a place like this,” Rafayel spoke into your ear, his voice barely audible over the loud music. “You stick out like a sore thumb, you know?”

You merely shrugged, keeping your face hidden under the large black hoodie until Rafayel secured you inside a private balcony he had reserved for the night. Once inside, you quickly pulled the hoodie down and comfortably revealed your face.

“Just give me what I asked you so I can leave,” you commanded, your tone assertive.

Rafayel, however, only smirked as he sat on the couch across from you. “Be patient. We’re still missing one person.”

One person? “Who—” Your attention was caught by the figure of a lean, white-haired man entering the private balcony in a calm and quiet manner. A person so familiar to you that you couldn’t even keep eye contact with him. Xavier.

Xavier might be civil around you, but you knew that if the circumstances were different, he would have let Lumiere show up to assassinate you in one strike. It didn’t matter if you were colleagues before, he still always had his guard around you. Though, things had become more complicated for everyone. And friends who had become enemies, were now allies again.

Somehow.

“Well, isn’t this a delightful gathering? I have two wanted individuals in the N109 Zone here with me,” you quipped, pointing to Rafayel first. “You’ve got a bounty on your head,” then to Xavier, “You’ve got a bounty on your head, too. Damn, I’d be rich if I turned you both in.”

Xavier stayed leaning against the door with his arms crossed. “That makes three of us, then,” he replied in a stolid mien, nodding toward the wall behind you.

Your eyes adjusted from the dark before it finally landed on a large, tattered poster pinned to the wall near the bar. The bold letters at the top read the following:

MOST WANTED! Y/N L/N Alias: Scarlet Viper Reward: 500,000,000 Credits Crimes: Betrayal of Onychinus Espionage Intelligence Leaks Treason Status: Traitor Last Known Location: N109 Zone, Linkon City Beware: Y/N L/N is considered extremely dangerous and cunning. She is highly skilled in espionage and intelligence gathering, and is now a traitor to Onychinus. Approach with extreme caution. All bounty hunters and loyal Onychinus followers are authorized to apprehend her by any means necessary. Payment will be made upon successful capture or confirmation of her whereabouts. Contact: Report all sightings and information to the Onychinus base. Payment is guaranteed for verified leads.

The grainy image was unmistakable—it was your own face in that poster staring back at you. But instead of acting hurt or even alarmed, a laugh bubbled up from deep within you, growing louder and more unhinged as you took in the sight. Heads turned from outside the private room, curious and wary, as your laughter echoed through the balcony.

“Crazy bastard,” you muttered to yourself between fits of laughter. “Sylus really went all out this time, huh?”

Preferably Alive? You mused at the highlighted words on the poster. Did he want me alive so he’d be the one to kill me?

The absurdity of it all washed over you. Here you were, once Sylus’s most trusted confidante, now branded a traitor with a bounty on your head. Even Luke and Kieran wouldn’t spare you. In fact, they might even be the first ones to capture you had they received the slightest intel on your whereabouts. Ha ha ha! Your maniacal laughter was a cocktail of bitterness, amusement, and the thrill of the rebellion that had driven you to this point. The very people you treated like family, were now your enemies.

You composed yourself, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye as you glanced around. The patrons were still watching—Xavier with concern for your sanity, and Rafayel with amusement to your charade.

“Not what you expected from your ‘lover’?” mocked Rafayel, shifting into a more comfortable position.

But you were ready with a confident reply. “Oh, I expected just as much. It’s flattering, really, that he hasn’t found me despite all his connections.”

Xavier adopted a more serious tone when he added, “He hasn’t been seen anywhere himself. It’s been months since the raid happened, and the Onychinus faction is still leaderless.”

“Sylus isn’t that pathetic,” you replied, pulling a pack of cigarettes from your pocket. You lit one up with a flick of your lighter, and the flame briefly illuminated your face. “He’s just laying low. He’s got plenty of properties to hide in, but the H.A. will need to pay me extra if they want intel on his locations.”

Rafayel smirked. “Oh, come on now, we know you won’t give up his hideouts that easily. You still care about his safety after all. Right, Miss Scarlet?”

You displayed a defensive stance as referred to you by your alias. “I care about whether or not that hunter girl you’re all obsessed with stopped chasing after him,” you said, irritation now lacing your once-sarcastic tone. “A deal’s a deal. Keep her out of the N109 Zone and away from Sylus, and I’ll keep my hands off her. Otherwise, I’ll be happy to send a bullet or two to her head.”

“You—” “Don’t even try—”

Both boys sprang from their seats and yelled simultaneously, as if your vague threat against the apple of their eyes activated their mode of defensiveness. In all honesty, you admired how much they cared to protect that girl. That despite their rivalry, they were willing to do anything to keep her safe. You were the biggest threat to her life right now, but eliminating you wasn’t exactly an easy feat now that the H.A. had your back.

So, this was their compromise. A mutually beneficial arrangement. In simpler terms, they need to keep the girl away from Sylus. Giving intel about Onychinus and its boss was already your part of the bargain. Theirs was to ensure that the hunter girl had no means to contact Sylus or even enter N109 Zone whenever she wanted.

“Hand out her brooch,” you demanded, gesturing for Rafayel to hand out the very piece you were here for. “It’s about time I come home.”

Rafayel’s eyes widened in curiosity. “You’re really returning to the N109 Zone?”

Xavier’s face mirrored his concern, likely because you carried the largest bounty of all the wanted fugitives in the most dangerous No-Hunt Zone. But honestly, their unease puzzled you. If they wanted to keep the girl safe, having you out of Linkon City would be to their advantage. Besides, the brooch would give you unrestricted access to the N109 Zone—something you wanted to take from the hunter girl who generously received it from Sylus.

“Stop stalling and give it to me,” you insisted, your frustration growing by the second. “I’m sick of this place.”

Rafayel sighed and tossed the brooch to you. “You must be crazy.”

— 1 YEAR AGO.

“You’ve already taken everything from me, Sylus. Finish what you started.”

Sylus had the power to end you right then and there. If he truly intended to kill you to protect that woman, all he needed was to intensify the pressure of his evol around you. Yet, as he observed the shifting expressions on your face, Sylus chose to ease the bone-crushing pressure of the black-red mist that encircled your body.

You collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath like fish out of the sea. But Sylus looked down at you with a cold, unyielding gaze. “I’m just showing you mercy now,” he said, his voice devoid of its usual warmth. “If you dare touch her, I’ll break every bone in your body for real next time. You’re just gonna be another dead body to me.”

With that final threat, Sylus kicked your gun away and vanished into the dead of night, leaving you alone and vulnerable in the dark alleyway. Even Mephisto, who often guarded your safety, was completely out of sight. Sylus must be happy knowing that his last words pierced through your soul—its pain gnawing at your heart and ripping every artery apart. How easily was it for him to tear you asunder despite giving you his mercy? The turmoil inside you was almost unbearable, and you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Ultimately, you chose both.

Sitting on the gravel, you clenched your fists, tears mingling with the dirt on the concrete. Anger, spite, and hatred consumed you. All you wanted was revenge.

And so, a few weeks after that, you decided to pack your bags and run away from the N109 Zone. Away from the place where Sylus was the boss of everyone. Away from a place where his omnipresence would not reach or track you.

Your destination of choice was Linkon, not because you wanted to live in that city, but because it was once your home. Returning to the bustling metropolis after four years was driven by a single purpose, and it was to see a few key people who could help you achieve your revenge.

The bright and busy streets of Linkon City were still a stark contrast to the dark and gritty atmosphere of the N109 Zone. But because you had lived most of your years here than its more dangerous counterpart, it was easy for you to maneuver through the fast-moving crowd while navigating through the complicated subway stations that even Luke and Kieran would struggle with. That day, your mind was set on your first destination: Akso Hospital.

Dr. Zayne’s clinic was tucked away in a quiet corner of the hospital. While it took some finesse to secure an appointment under a false name, you managed it without raising suspicion. After all, four years in the N109 Zone had taught you how to camouflage into roles you never expected to play.

Obviously, he was surprised to see you entering his clinic as if he had seen a ghost. His usual stoic countenance was momentarily replaced by a state of discombobulation when you finally sat across from him in his sterile, white office. “Zayne,” you cut straight to the chase. “I need to know about the girl with the Aether Core.”

Four years ago, Zayne was the last person you talked to about the Aether Core before plunging into the dangers of the N109 Zone. He knew more about it than anyone else in Linkon. Therefore, he would also be the first person you sought out upon your return.

Dr. Zayne’s expression remained impassive, however. “I’m afraid patient confidentiality prevents me from discussing any details.”

You leaned forward, your voice low and urgent, as you pressed a hand against his desk. “I’m not here for pleasantries, Zayne. I need answers. How and where does she have it?”

You had to know. You really, badly ought to know. Because knowing where she had the Aether Core would acquaint you where exactly to target her when the opportunity arises.

But in spite of the desperation in your voice, Dr. Zayne regarded you with a cool, clinical detachment. “Whatever you’re planning, I would prefer that you don’t involve an innocent person in it. If you want answers, seek it somewhere else.”

Dammit! His actions and strange avoidance of the subject were all the hints you needed. Zayne liked that girl. And he would never be the person to put her in a dangerous position.

In that case, there was only one place left to turn, a place you had avoided for far too long. It even took you three days to gather the confidence you needed to even step foot into the familiar halls of The Hunter's Association’s most secretive department, the Hunter Intelligence Services or the HIS—the very place where undercover agents and intelligence officers resided. It was hidden beneath the city and only the high ranking hunters knew and had access to it, because being a spy certainly wasn’t for the weak heart.

It was time to confront your true past.

The entryway to the headquarters didn’t change. And to your surprise, pulling out your access card still granted you entrance to the quarters. Were they anticipating your return or did they simply miss the task of revoking your access card?

Descending further into the underground facility, however, you were met with a familiar sense of unease. The sterile, metal hallways seemed to close in around you as you approached Lauryn’s office. She was the head of the department, your true boss, and the person who tasked you into infiltrating the N109 Zone four years ago.

Lauryn was there as you entered, her sharp eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms at you. You were right. She did anticipate your arrival, because the advanced CCTV monitors around the city were displayed all over the room. “What brings you back to the fold?” she asked, stern and unwelcoming, “Are you going to beg on my knees for turning your back against the Hunter’s Association?”

Feisty as ever. Her austerity was harsher than you remembered, but then again, there was no room for shame after all the crimes you committed while supposedly being a spy in the N109 Zone.

“I need your help,” you admitted, shamelessly. “I have intel on Sylus and the Onychinus. Extremely valuable information that you need. In exchange, there’s something I want you to do.”

Lauryn’s expression was unreadable as she leaned back against the wall. “So, you’ve decided to turn on your beloved Sylus? What happened to your loyalty? Is it always this unstable?”

You took a deep breath, not allowing her words to get to you. “I just… need to protect my interests.”

“Interests?” The woman guffawed at your chosen words. “And do your interests also include betraying the H.A. because you fell in love with the enemy? Or did the enemy also betray you that’s why you’re crawling back here now?”

She hit the sore spot, but you masked your voice with defensive indifference. “If that’s how you define it, then so be it. I’m not asking to be recruited by the H.A. again, I know that. I broke the Hunter’s Code and I’m marked as a Tenebra now, but…” Letting out a heavy exhale, you looked into her eyes, “Lauryn, you know I have the most intel you’ll get about Sylus and Onychinus out of everyone. Not even Xavier as Lumiere would have this much intel as I do.”

How could she deny such an offer? You knew the temptation was heavy since you were speaking the truth; you worked for Sylus for four years. You have all the necessary intel they need to even get to him.

For a millisecond, you caught the corner of Lauryn’s lips twitching upwards with a glint of approval hiding in her eyes, but she was pretty good at concealing her emotions. “Very well. Share your intel, and I’ll see what I can do.”

The past year had been a blur of longing and subterfuge.

You supplied Lauryn with detailed intelligence on Onychinus’s illicit activities, including their smuggling routes, black market transactions, and the clandestine trade of armory and protocores with corrupt officials. You also exposed Sylus’s personal connections to the high ranking officials who were secretly doing business with him. This information immediately set off a series of events aimed at destabilizing Onychinus, providing sufficient evidence to provoke a significant response from the Hunter’s Association and law enforcement.

In return, you requested two things: 1) for the Hunter’s Association to offer you protection and support against Onychinus’s threats; and 2) for them to enforce restrictions and surveillance on the hunter girl, ensuring she remained completely isolated from Sylus and the N109 Zone.

It would have been better if they had chastised her. You had convinced Lauryn that a public whipping would be the perfect punishment, but the H.A. upheld principles far better than yours. After all, you had been stripped of your morality after living in a lawless environment under the influence of the mastermind himself. Being in the N109 Zone for too long dehumanized you. But for your peers in Linkon… they could never harm that hunter girl for some reason, and had been treating her like a valuable asset under everyone's protection—even Sylus’s.

You hated it. You hated her. And each time you caught a glimpse of her around Linkon, your hands were often itching to take out a gun and end her life.

But that was easier said than done. Besides, you decided to harness all of your anger towards Sylus himself because he was the one who had tossed you aside after she came to his life. He was the one responsible for the wounds in your heart that would never heal.

It had been a year. You wondered if he ever even thought about you, or did his anger completely consume him to the point where all he wanted to do was kill you?

“Of course,” you mumbled under your breath, scoffing as you remembered the bounty he had placed on you. He was definitely apoplectic at the fact that you ruined his plans, and that you took his precious hunter girl away from him. The thought of you betraying him and Onychinus probably made him ballistic.

But to think about it, who betrayed who first?

Everyone knew the difficulty of getting into the N109 Zone. Keeping yourself safe while inside the lawless city was also another struggle. Yet, for someone like you who belonged here better than in Linkon, you were already used to the ins and outs of its dangerous scene. And having the hunter girl’s brooch was your gateway to return to the city unsuspiciously.

Pushing through the throng of people, you made your way to a nondescript door at the back of the bar. Two burly guards stood in front, their expressions deadpan as they eyed the beaked mask you were wearing. You wore the Onychinus uniform, one that was similar to Luke and Kieran’s, in order to hide your identity. For now.

“Is it a man?”

“No, a woman! Look at her body behind the uniform.”

“You think we should let her in?”

“Idiot, she’s from Onychinus! You can’t deny her entrance.”

With a nod, you handed over a small token—your entry pass to the underground fight club that operated in the depths of an abandoned warehouse. “Fellas, I have a pass if you need it.”

The guards stepped aside, finally allowing you entry after you showed a token that was marked by the Onychinus insignia. And as you descended the dimly lit staircase, the roar of the crowd and the unmistakable sound of fists meeting flesh grew louder. The anticipation began to thrum in your veins.

You weren’t entirely sure why you were here, but you knew you needed information on Sylus. Anywhere. And what better way to hear about him than to visit a place where his presence often loomed large? Maybe you could even take out your frustrations in the ring tonight. With every punch and kick, you would remind yourself of the path you had chosen—a path leading to Sylus’s downfall, no matter the cost.

As you stepped into the arena, an irregular thumping in your heart began to destabilize you. You forced yourself to focus, squeezing between people loudly cheering for the current match, screaming their biases, and trash-talking the opponents. Clusters of people gathered around the ring and placed their bets on their favorite fighters. How nostalgic, you mused. You used to come here with Sylus on Friday nights. And turned the rest of those active nights into passionate ones.

Now’s not the time to reminisce. Your chest was starting to feel tighter, unsure if it was because of the crowd or the uncomfortable thought of being back in the N109 Zone. But the more time you spent inside the fight club, the more your heart felt like it was being squeezed. You had to make a move now before it was too late.

The fight club continued to throb with a visceral energy, and you stood in the shadows, the hood of your cloak still pulled low to hide the overwhelming pressure you were feeling inside your body. You managed to weave through the people, while your ears were attuned to the murmur of conversations in hopes of catching intel on Sylus.

That was, until a group of grizzled men to your left caught your attention, and their voices were rising above the din.

“I’ve got five hundred credits on the big guy,” one of them boasted, slapping a hefty stack of bills into the hand of a bookie.

“You’re gonna lose,” another jeered. “That scrawny kid’s faster. I bet he’ll surprise everyone.”

You lingered nearby, pretending to adjust your hoodie while listening intently to their conversation.

“Hey, did you hear about Sylus?” one man whispered, his tone dropping to a conspiratorial murmur.

Your pulse quickened at the mention of his name, and you took a step closer, careful not to draw attention.

“Yeah. He hasn’t been seen in weeks, ain’t he? Word is, he’s gone underground. Something big must’ve gone down.”

“Big? That’s an understatement. They say someone ratted him out to the Hunter’s Association that’s why his base got raided. He’s also got a bounty on his head now, and not just any bounty—a serious one. Every hunter and merc in the zone's looking for him.”

“What about the hot chick he’s been seen with? You think she’s involved?”

“Dunno,” the first man whispered. “But if she’s smart, she’ll lay low. Sylus doesn’t take kindly to betrayal, and neither do his people.”

You bit your lip as the urge to ask questions was getting heavy. But you knew better. Drawing attention to yourself now could be disastrous. So, you had to think of how to navigate this situation first. The fight in the ring reached a fever pitch, and the crowd’s roar swelled. Perhaps joining today’s fight might not be a good idea after all, and instead, you should harness your remaining energy into preparing for the time you would have to face Onychinus again.

Sylus was in hiding, the hunter girl had been isolated, and you had made yourself a target.

It was for the best that you stormed out of the fight club, helmet on, speeding away on a motorcycle you had rented. Riding in the N109 zone was always a thrilling escape, and it now became your dangerous distraction from the turbulent thoughts that plagued your mind. Sylus. Sylus. Sylus. Where did he hide?

In your trail of thoughts, you revved the engine, and its roar echoed along the stretch of dark roads as you maneuvered your bike towards the highway.

There was no other vehicle around you.

Until a truck appeared.

Not just any truck—it was a supertruck, with its headlights blazing and tailing you like a predator.

The lights tried to blind you, but you took off, and the world around you instantly became a blur of speed and sound. You leaned into the bike, feeling the wind whip against your face as you cornered into the nearest exit. But no matter how fast you went, you couldn’t outrun such a large, fast-moving vehicle. You knew that if you didn’t accelerate into sixth gear or until you hit the rev limiter, you would be dead.

He’s fucking out for me!

Lost in thought, your eyes focused too much on looking back and forth between the road and the stealth mirrors before you got rear-ended by the truck. The impact was jarring, and it sent you flying off your bike and crashing onto the hard, cold ground. Upon impact alone, pain immediately exploded in your body. And the burning, stinging sensation was brought upon by the road rash you obtained after you skidded along the rough concrete road. It was intense pain—like a thousand searing needles piercing every inch of your skin. Your flesh felt as if it were being flayed by red-hot knives, each scrape and cut screaming with a fire that seemed unquenchable. The raw, exposed nerves throbbed violently, sending electric shocks of pain through your entire body, and making every heartbeat feel like a hammer blow.

Aghh! It was a relentless, burning torment, and the slightest movement amplified the suffering, every breath dragging razors through your shredded skin. But you refused to cry out, refusing to give the culprit the satisfaction. Was it Sylus?

As much as you wanted to lift your helmet and find the culprit, the shock from the crash was an all-consuming inferno of agony, the kind that made the world blur and darken at the edges, and eventually pulled you into a black abyss of unconsciousness.

The last thing you remembered was being carried in the arms of a man.

“Think she’s in a coma?”

Voices filtered through your ears, distant yet distinct. Familiar, mischievous voices that sent a shiver down your spine. You could barely open your eyes, your fingers twitching as you slowly regained consciousness.

“Maybe.” That was Luke’s voice. “Or maybe she’s just pretending. Wouldn’t put it past her after she spied on us for years.”

“Yeah, she’s good at that,” Kieran egged on. “Always scheming, always one step ahead. And she’s tougher than she looks! Surviving that crash?”

“But not invincible.”

Their exchange suddenly took a halt, replaced by a discomfiting silence that made you wish you could force your eyes open in a mere count to ten. You tried to move, to make a sound, to let them know you were not in a coma, that you could hear every word. But your body remained stubbornly still, as if pressed down by an unseen weight.

“You think boss-man will forgive her?” It was Kieran who asked, a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice.

Luke snorted. “Forgive? She’s a traitor. If she wakes up, she’s a dead woman walking.”

No! Upon realizing that this wasn’t a dream or a figment of your imagination, the beat of your heart began to accelerate, vibrating loud and aggressive against your chest. The sound of the twins’ footsteps eventually faded, leaving you alone in the oppressive silence of your half-conscious state. Fear and regret coiled within you, but there was also a flicker of determination.

That if you wake up—when you wake up—you would have to face Sylus. And you would have to find a way to survive.

Time lost its meaning as you floated between wakefulness and sleep. A minute, an hour, days must have gone by. Eventually, you could hear classical music being played in the background and became aware of a new presence in the room, then a weight on the edge of your bed. That familiar cardamom and leather scent. A hand soon brushed your forehead, cool and gentle. Sylus? You wanted to open your eyes, to see him, to speak, but your body refused to obey.

“You can’t hide from me forever,” his voice murmured. His breath was warm when you felt it on your ear. “Wake up, kitten. We have unfinished business.”

Darkness tugged at you again, pulling you under, but not before the fear took root. The weight on your chest suddenly lifted, as if an invisible force released its hold on you. Your eyes then snapped open and your lungs burned as you dragged in deep, desperate gulps of air.

“Where—” You struggled to sit up with your weak body trembling from days of enforced stillness. Every movement felt foreign, muscles protesting as you pushed yourself upright. The room spinned for a moment before your vision cleared, and you saw him.

“Awake?” Sylus stood at your side, his crimson eyes burning with fire as he looked down on you like a master to his subject.

“What… what did you do to me?” you manage to ask even though your voice was hoarse. “It was y-you in that truck!”

“Oh, honey. I don’t ride in cheap trucks. Besides, I saved you from that crash,” Sylus replied, almost nonchalantly. “A ‘thank you’ would be nice. And also a ‘long time no see’, don’t you think?”

If it wasn’t him on that truck, then… “It’s still a hitman you hired because of that bounty!”

Sylus didn’t change. His silky gray hair, his vivid carmine eyes, his pinkish thin lips. Whenever he smirked, it was still the handsome old him. “I won’t deny that, sweetie. But I had to kill the guy for doing a poor job. My instructions were to not get you badly injured, and only to scare you.”

“Liar,” you spat, “I bet you’d be happier if I was incapacitated.”

“Please. You’d serve no good to me if you’re dead or permanently disabled.” Sylus reached down to pull the duvet away from your body, and your supposed road rash and injuries were seemingly gone, replaced by newly-healed scars. “Your body needed time to recover, and I couldn’t afford to lose you. Not yet. So I had to put you in an induced state.”

His words sent a chill down your spine. How he did it, you had no idea, but with Sylus, anything was possible. Anything! After all, he had all the connections and the rarest protocores.

“Three days,” he continued, stepping closer, his gaze never leaving your face as he lifted your chin with his finger. “I kept you under for three days. Enough time for your wounds to heal. You recognize where you are?”

When he trailed off, you looked around the room and realized you weren’t in the Onychinus base nor his presidential suite. It was one of his many residences—the underground shelter.

“Why are we here?” you asked, your voice trembling despite your efforts to sound strong.

Sylus extended a hand once more, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His touch was surprisingly gentle, but his eyes remained hard, unreadable. “Ask that to yourself, kitten,” he says quietly. “We’re here because an ungrateful stray cat decided to leak the location of my other residences.”

You swallowed hard when you felt him grab you by the neck, his tight grip restraining any air from entering your windpipe. “S-Sylus!”

His eyes had unruly flames beneath them. “You were a spy?”

As his grip loosened a little to let you speak, you still ended up choking from asphyxiation. “S-So what if I was?” You tried to push him off. “It only means I caught you lacking. You allowed me to infiltrate Onychinus without knowing my background.”

Sylus’s hand trailed gently over your cheek, his touch lingering longer than necessary. “I’d blame it on your cunning face,” he said, almost seductively. He then shifted to lower himself onto the bed, both knees on either side of you, pinning you down. His eyes locked onto yours with a dark, predatory gleam. “Any man is a willing fool to a pretty face and a sexy body.”

You swatted his hand in response, your back hitting the headboard as you scrambled for distance. “How many times have you recycled that line between me and that hunter girl with the Aether Core?”

At the mention of her, Sylus’s deep chuckle erupted and reverberated through the dark room. It was a chilling sound that was full of twisted amusement. “Ah, I almost forgot about the root of your betrayal,” he remarked with a mocking grin. “Jealousy.”

“You wouldn’t be laughing if I had killed her,” you spat, struggling to break free as Sylus slammed you back onto the bed. “Let me go—!” It was a fierce contest of strength, with you pinned beneath him, and him on top of you in an undeniable display of dominance. But you fought back. You resisted. And in an effort to offend, you ejected spit onto his cheek. “Let go!”

Sylus was caught off guard, but he stayed unfazed, wiping your spit from his cheek before gripping your neck again. “You really want to play this game, honey? I love how sick in the head you are.”

“You m-made me like this.” You choked in between words. “In the end, I still achieved my goal. Now you have no way to see or contact that girl.”

“Says who?” Sylus’s sarcastic tone made your heart sink. Is he still in touch with her?!

“What do you—”

“Don’t be dense, kitten.” Sylus soon grabbed you by the collar, handling you like a ragdoll as he threw you onto the floor with a resounding thud. Pain shot through your hip, but Sylus’s expression held no remorse. You knew he could do worse. “I have my own ways of ensuring she’s safe and protected. I can still see her whenever I want.”

That was when the tears started to fall uncontrollably. You couldn’t stop them—nor could you hold back the words that poured out. “Y-You! I ran away from the N109 Zone for a whole year. I disappeared from your life for a whole goddamn year, Sylus. Yet not once did you look for me, not once did you worry about me, not once did you make sure I was safe. But for her, you—”

“It’s only natural to protect someone important to you.” He crouched down to meet your eyes as if pouring salt to the wound. “I’d let the world burn for her, honey. You and her aren’t the same. She’s not someone who would betray me.”

“I betrayed you because of her!”

His laughter died down, but the amusement in his eyes only deepened. The cruel curve of his lips was the kind of smile that enjoyed seeing your agony. “It’s always been about her, hasn’t it? You see me with her, and you can’t stand it. It eats at you, makes you act out.”

You tried to move away, but he kept his foot firmly on your wrist, stepping on your hand was his constant reminder of your powerlessness. The distance between you was a stark symbol of how he saw you—a mere object of disdain.

“I’ve seen your struggle,” he continued, his voice soft but laced with wicked satisfaction. “The way you watched me with her, the way it gnaws at you. It’s almost poetic, really.”

In a moment of desperation, you snatched the nearest weapon from his nightstand while tears blurred your vision. It hurt. His words, his treatment, and the stark difference in how he treated her compared to you were too much. You should have ended this long ago before he had the chance to wreck you all over again.

And so, with a gun in your hand, you cocked and raised it.

But instead of pointing it towards Sylus, you surprised him by pointing it to yourself.

The gun’s nozzle was pressed against your temple, your finger inching toward the trigger.

“...All I wanted was your love,” you choked out with tears cascading down your face, flowing out like an endless waterfall, “I j-just wanted you to love me. I turned my back on the H.A. for you. I left all my friends and family for you.” Your breathing was still for a moment. “Now I don’t have anyone left.” Pausing, you locked eyes with his crimson ones. You didn’t want him to be the one to kill you, because the thought alone was fatal. “All I had was you. I loved you. I devoted all my body and soul into loving you, Sylus. Why c-can’t I have even a little bit in return?”

Even as his gaze softened, as a flicker of regret crossed his features, you already drove your finger to pull the trigger. The recoil immediately jolted through your wrist, but before the bullet could find its mark and penetrate your skull, Sylus’s hand shot out and expertly deflected your aim. So instead of blowing your brains out, the bullet ricocheted off the now-shattered window.

“Are you out of your mind?!” Sylus roared, his orotund voice an amalgam of anger and disbelief.

Tears blurred your vision, but you were still able to look at his bright red eyes as he cupped your cheeks. Your entire body shook hysterically for someone who had just almost ended her own life. This is what he wanted, right? You asked yourself over and over, but couldn’t find the energy to respond to his calls for your name.

“Y/N,” Sylus agitatedly tried to shake you, “Y/N! Enough. Let’s end this game.”

You stared at his face blankly as reality flickered and faded, like an old film reel skipping frames. “I was never playing one with you.”

Sylus was suddenly a different person in front of you. “I warned you many times before to never fall in love with me. It’s for the best, and it’s what will keep you safe,” he spoke in a low yet softened tone, “Why don’t you listen?”

The tension in the room was suffocating, and each second dragged into eternity. Sylus’s question remained unanswered until the loud burst of the door shattered the silence. You flinched, heart pounding, as you saw the very subject of your heartbreak.

The hunter girl stormed in, eyes wild in fear. “Sylus! Are you okay? I heard a gunshot—” she cried out, scanning the room frantically until her gaze landed on the two of you. She then froze, taking in the sight of you and Sylus on the floor, the gun lying ominously near your hand. Putting two-and-two together probably made her think that you tried to kill the man in front of you. “Sylus, step back!”

“Wait!”

Without hesitation, she aimed her gun squarely at you. But right before you could react, the gun was fired. And the shattering sound of another gunshot echoed in the room.

Time seemed to slow as you fell, the world spinning around you when you felt a sudden, searing pain on your head. Sylus’s eyes widened in shock, his hand reaching out just in time to catch you before your head hit the floor.

“No!” Sylus’s voice was raw, hysterical, filled with a pain you’d never heard from him before as he cradled your head gently—his face a mask of both horror and disbelief when your blood pooled on his arms. “Y/N, no! Fuck, what did you do?!”

You struggled to focus, your vision blurring as darkness encroached. Sylus’s eyes were strangely wet with tears, desperation etched into every line of his sharp features. The Sylus you knew wouldn’t cry over someone unimportant to him. So, why…?

You tried to speak, but the effort was monumental.

Who knew that your life would end at the hands of another woman?

Yet, it was the karma you deserved for your wrongdoings.

“I... love... you,” you whispered to Sylus, nonetheless. Each word was a struggle, and your breath hitched as you forced them out, but you had to let him know. For the last time.

You saw the pain in his eyes deepen, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of something close to peace. That was when Sylus’s grip tightened, his tears falling onto your face as he held you close. “Y/N, please,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Don’t leave. I can’t let this happen!”

He must have noticed how your eyes were glassy and unfocused, staring off into the distance without really seeing anything. Pure numbness was you would best describe it. And as your life slipped away, you felt a strange sense of relief.

In the battle of hearts, he was the conqueror, and you, the conquered. His love was a war you couldn’t win, and your loss, a defeat you couldn’t bear. For in his eyes, you saw both your greatest triumph and your deepest fall, where the lines between the victor and the vanquished blurred into the shadows of a bittersweet end.

But at least, you had said what mattered most, and that in your final moments, you were held by the one person you loved. The rightful owner of your heart. The conqueror of your soul. It was him, Sylus Qin, and no one else.

— 1 YEAR AFTER.

“Two black coffees, three espressos, and a caramel macchiato, extra caramel!” A peculiar guy placed orders one after another, followed by his twin’s mischievous laughter.

You turned to face them, offering a polite smile even though you were worried deep inside if they were just pulling a prank. They were regulars, always coming in with their complicated orders and playful banter. Yet, something about them seemed oddly familiar, and they always gave you a nagging sensation you couldn’t quite place.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the small café you were working at in the Bloomshore District. You were standing behind the counter while the rush of customers was relentless. You barely even had a moment to catch your breath today, and here came the twins creating yet another one of their complicated orders.

“Coming right up,” was your monotonous reply, your hands deftly moving to prepare their drinks. But as you worked, the twins exchanged amused glances, their eyes flicking over you with a mix of curiosity and disappointment.

“Actually, can I make a small change to that?” the other twin interjected with a grin.

You sighed inwardly but kept your smile. “Sure, what would you like?”

“Okay, so for the black coffee, can you add a splash of almond milk, two pumps of hazelnut syrup, and a sprinkle of cinnamon on top?” one of the twins began. “For the espressos, I need one with a shot of vanilla, one with a shot of caramel, and the last one with a double shot of mint. And for the caramel macchiato, make sure it's extra caramel, but can you also add a dash of sea salt and a drizzle of dark chocolate on top?”

Gosh. They were menaces.

“Do you think you can remember our orders?” the other twin remarked, leaning on the counter. “Because you don’t seem to remember our names.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “We have lots of customers everyday. I’m not really good with names.”

When the bell above the door chimed, your attention was immediately drawn to the towering man with ash gray hair and bright crimson eyes. His presence was commanding even in the relaxed atmosphere of the café; he carried such a dominant aura that even the twins backed off from pestering you the moment he entered the coffee shop.

“Good evening, Mr. Skye,” you greeted, your tone warming at the sight of him. The man had become a regular fixture in your life. Every day, like clockwork, he came in for his coffee, and every day, he lingered just a bit longer, watching you with eyes that seemed to see more than you could comprehend.

He nodded, his eyes staying on you while he was pointing towards the twins. “Are they bothering you?”

You were under the impression that the twins worked for Mr. Skye, but the type of relationship they had with their boss was none of your business. That was why although the twins could get really annoying as customers, especially when they tend to change their orders a lot, you still didn’t want them to get in trouble over something as little as that.

“No, they’re fine,” you answered with a smile. “Are you going to get the usual today, Mr. Skye?”

“Yes, please.” The tall man studied your face with a focused gaze—it was as though he was trying to read your mind, trying to interpret the emotions on your face, as he looked at you intently. He always did this. Every single day he came in, even from afar, you had grown accustomed to his watchful gaze. Yet even with the awkwardness it brought, he also knew how to keep his distance. He always treated you with respect and was always the first person to come to your aid when things did get unruly in the cafe. Broken coffee machine, spilled coffee, entitled customers. Name it, and he was always present to help around.

It was strange. Really, really strange. And what’s even stranger was that, every time he looked at you, the tenderness in his eyes that often opposed the fiery red color of his irises. Perhaps, you really couldn’t judge a book by its cover.

As you wrote his name on the plastic cup, you heard him suddenly clear his throat. “Miss Y/N, forgive me. I couldn’t help but notice that scar,” he said with a poignant stare, gesturing towards your temple. “Quite a story behind that, I imagine?”

Your hand instinctively touched the faint scar, a puzzled look crossing your face. You had always been insecure about the scar on your temple, because not only was it unattractive, it was also extremely visible. Not even a laser treatment could help clear it out.

“Oh, uh… I’m not really sure how I got it,” you admitted, searching through your mind’s archive to no avail. “I was told it was while I was fighting off wanderers. I don’t remember much from that time because I’ve since retired from the Hunter’s Association.”

His eyes darkened for a moment, as if his heart dropped from a memory he had recalled, but he quickly masked his expression. “So, you’re a hunter?”

You shrugged. “Well, yeah. But it’s all in the past now.”

Mr. Skye stood there waiting for his order with an unreadable expression on his face. And you wondered why he looked heartbroken while lost in deep thought. Was he having a bad day? Going through a break-up? You weren’t nosey enough to ask. Eventually, his order was done and he took the cup, his fingers brushing against yours briefly.

“Sometimes the past has a way of catching up to us.” His deep voice was smooth and soft when he spoke again. “But perhaps it’s best to focus on the present.”

You smiled, feeling a strange comfort in his words. “That’s what I’m trying to do.”

He hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Would you like to… have dinner with me sometime? I’d love to get to know you better.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden invitation. A date?! You couldn’t remember the last time you were even in love. All you could recall was having a silly childhood crush on your neighbor, but then again, that was more than a decade ago. You knew nothing about dating at your age and it was ridiculous. But there was something about Mr. Skye, a familiarity you couldn’t ignore, and that rejecting his offer seemed wrong in your head.

Besides, you couldn’t deny how extremely handsome he was.

“Um, sure… Mr. Skye.”

“Perfect,” he said with a small smile, his gaze softening into one of genuine joy. “Tomorrow evening, then?”

Before you could agree on a schedule, the sudden flash of lightning illuminated the interior for a brief moment. Then, the subsequent crash of thunder made you jump, following the sound of rain pounding against the windows that filled the small space. Oh, boy.

“Ugh. How am I going to get home in this weather?” you muttered to yourself.

Mr. Skye, who had been quietly watching you from his spot, gave you an offer. “Need a ride?” he asked, his voice gentle but carrying a note of urgency. “It’s too dangerous to walk or wait for a cab in this storm.”

You hesitated for a moment. “I’d really appreciate that, Mr. Skye. But what about your,” you pointed towards the oblivious twins who were sitting on the corner, “minions?”

Your chosen term elicited a deep chuckle from the man. “Don’t mind them. They know their way back home.”

“But boss!”

“Boss, you said you’ll let me drive the sportscar tonight!”

“I’ll wait for you until your shift ends,” Mr. Skye ignored the duo and responded to you with an endearing smile. “No rush.”

It didn’t take long until you locked up the shop, but you did feel bad that Mr. Skye had to stay with you until ten in the evening when he could have already gone home. In fact, he had been acting strange. Acting too familiar with you. Did he already know you prior to your small interactions in the cafe for the past few weeks?

He held the door open for you as soon as you secured the shop, and together you ran through the torrential rain to his black sportscar. You were already aware that he was a wealthy man, and yet, you always wondered why he preferred a small, laid-back cafe in the Bloomshore Distrct rather than the lavish ones in Azure Square or even Universum. Was it to see you all along?

Jeez, you had so many unanswered questions in your head. Yet, you were also afraid to address the elephant in the room because you believed in the saying that ignorance is bliss. So in the end, the drive was quiet, the only sounds being the rhythm of the rain and the occasional rumble of thunder. Mr. Skye didn’t speak a word and nor did you.

Once you reached your apartment, he quickly rushed out of the car and headed to open your door. He even used his jacket as a makeshift umbrella, covering you from the heavy rainfall. It was almost funny, really, how his face screamed of danger but he was actually quite a gentleman.

In return, you had to invite him in out of courtesy. “Would you like to come in for a while? It’s still pouring out there.”

He accepted your offer with a nod, and followed you like a tail inside. “Do you usually invite other people, too?”

“Sometimes,” you casually answered while the both of you walked through the empty corridors. “Why?”

“You aren’t talking about male colleagues, right?” he asked, seemingly taking a deep breath.

That wasn’t any of his concern, obviously. But the drive to test his emotions was strong. “Sometimes,” you said, finally reaching your door and unlocking it with your fingerprint. “Welcome to my home.”

The warmth of your apartment was a stark contrast to the cold storm outside, and you felt a little conscious of your small living space knowing that he probably lived in a luxurious presidential suite. It didn’t help that he started looking around your place, as if studying the smallest details of every corner for a reason you couldn’t quite tell. You weren’t sure if he was simply silently judging the aesthetics of your home, but you were beginning to feel uncomfortable as you placed his coat on the rack, watching the way he stopped to look at your photo on the wall.

It was like he felt a pang of sorrow.

“You’ve really erased me completely, kitten,” he quietly whispered.

You turned to him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe that’s for the better,” he replied, but his expression betrayed him. It was clear that he was holding back a flood of emotions.

Your heart started to race, pounding at a rhythm that you had never experienced before. And just then, you could see how tears welled up in his eyes. Tears that he concealed by leaning in to capture your lips in a desperate kiss. His hands cupped your face, and you could feel the intensity of his suppressed feelings that seemed to transcend the confines of your apartment. The yearning. The longingness. Perhaps, it was even sprinkled with feelings of regret.

“Mr. Skye, wait—!” You pulled away with wide, bewildered eyes, shocked by the fervor of his kiss. No matter how attractive he was, he was still a stranger to you. But then, your breath came in shallow gasps as a sudden, sharp pain began to explode in your head. A throbbing pulse spread from your temples and radiated outwards. It was a stabbing sensation that seemed to slice through your skull, as if a thousand needles were jabbing into your brain. What’s happening?

Mr. Skye’s face appeared above you. “Does it hurt?” he asked softly, his voice laced with a mix of worry and something deeper. He was whispering something about a protocore in your head, but you could barely understand a word, not when the ache in your temple was overcoming you entirely.

You were unable to form words, clutching your head with both hands in hopes of stopping the ache for even a little. But the pain was overwhelming. Too overwhelming for you to handle, and it came to a point where tears of pain began streaming down your face.

“I… I don’t know what’s happening,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling.

He gently guided you on the couch, his touch careful and soothing. “Just breathe,” he murmured, offering a comforting presence like buoy in an open sea. “It’s my fault, kitten. I shouldn’t have kissed you so suddenly.” The intensity of the moment had shifted because of how tender his touch was. “You’re safe here,” he gently whispered into your ear. “Let the pain pass. I’ll be here with you.”

As the pain began to subside, you could feel the storm in your head gradually receding. And in his presence, you felt a strange mix of comfort and unease.

Studies say that a kiss can help calm someone’s nerves. You weren’t sure where that research was based on, but it was your body who allowed itself to seek it from the man in front of you. While your mind was telling you no, your heart was urging you to grab his shirt and pull him, once again, to a passionate kiss.

The kiss deepened naturally, and you found yourself responding to his need as the pull between you became irresistible. You were like a magnet to him—the force of attraction getting stronger and stronger the closer you were. Where was it coming from? How come you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame?

And while you were engaged in a tight lip-locking moment, you both ended up walking towards your bedroom; stumbling towards the bed, hands exploring, hearts racing. Soon, you were lost in each other, and the world outside was forgotten.

With both your clothes discarded on the floor, and with your steamy exchange continuing throughout the night, you found yourself eventually straddling him, moving your body to meet him with a gentle thrust. Every sway of your hips made his member hit you at your sweet spot, instantly sending a wave of pleasure within your body.

“S-Sir—”

“Sylus,” he breathed into your ear, hands tracing your curve, “Call me Sylus, kitten.”

Sylus. Sylus. The name sounded familiar yet foreign at the same time, but you were too sensually intoxicated to think about the history behind his name. All you could selfishly focus on at the moment was reaching your high. You were losing your mind over the euphoric sensation of having an intercourse with such a man who, not only was attractive on the face, but also on the body.

Sylus was packed. His muscles were toned from a seemingly consistent active lifestyle and intense workout routines. It felt great when you ran your hands along his broad shoulders, down to his toned chest, and further down to his perfectly sculpted abs.

“Mmh—!” A moan escaped your lips when you felt his shaft going deeper inside. “That’s…”

‘Good?” he whispered to your lips, encasing yours with his before he trailed his soft kisses around your neck. Each kiss definitely left a purple mark on your skin with the way he was suckling and nibbling on the flesh.

God, he was huge, too. His member completely filled you, stretched you even, as his cocktip kissed your cervix in a single thrust. He was crazy good at knowing all your sensitive places, holding your hips down so he could start pounding you upwards. Your tits began to bounce wildly and you even had to hold onto the headboard for support, because he was starting to go deeper and faster inside you.

“Ngh!”

“You don’t know how much I’ve missed this,” he said in between shaky breaths before latching his mouth into your right tit. He devoured your breast like a meal, playing with the nipple with the precise movements of his tongue. It was so good. Crazy good. It made you wonder how he seemed hyper-aware of the things you liked in bed. But how would that be possible when this was your first time having sex with him?

Sylus decided to shift the control by flipping you over, and hoisting your hips so he could lower his head down to your lady part. Your eyes almost rolled back when he spread your labia apart so he could lick your inner folds and taste every corner of your slick-coated cavern.

“S-Sylus,” you whined as his tongue rapidly moved in and out of your entrance until drool oozed down on your cunt. His eyes fluttered as he pulled his face away, soon palming your wet vulva with slow strokes. “Mmh…”

He eyed you with a tender gaze. “You’re so beautiful to me.”

It was certainly odd that his compliment seemed to touch your heart deeper than intended—that if you weren’t doing sexual activities right now, your heart would have been fluttering from his sweetness, especially when he met your lips again with a soft, loving kiss.

This time, he didn’t pull away. He didn’t detach his lips from yours, even as he was penetrating you with his cock again. With a single thrust, you were mewling into his mouth. His girthy member gave you a heavenly stretch that seemed to awaken the lustful demon inside of you.

Even Sylus was cussing under his breath as he continued to slam his entire length in, soon increasing the speed of his penetration to a pace that made him reach his peak. At this point, the coil in your lower abdomen was beginning to intensify, and you were clamping around his cock as if your walls weren’t tight enough to make him release a series of guttural moans.

“Are you near?” With a quick suction on your left breast, his own moans left his lips along with the loud squelching noises that filled the room. “‘Cause I am.”

Coincidentally, you were just arching your back because of how near you were, too. With screams getting louder, gasps causing your mouths to part open, and two people connected into a single body—you disintegrated under him as your lower abdomen signaled your orgasm and your toes started curling. “Ngh—Haah! Aah!”

“Hold on for me, kitten.” Sylus pounded into you through your overstimulation, picking up the pace until spurts of seed were sent straight to your womb. His movements became sloppy and uneven, pulling out of you only to see his semen seeping out of your pussy.

You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t fucking believe you just hooked up with a stranger.

But was he really one? Because your heart was telling you one thing, but your mind was telling you another. You didn’t know who to trust and listen to.

After your passionate session, the room was filled with the sound of your breaths mingling. Sylus, still holding you close, leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your cheek, whispering, “How’s it?”

Curiosity got the better of you, and you asked the very question that had been plaguing your mind, “Sylus, please be honest with me,” you paused, “Did you know me before?”

He was silent.

But you continued, “What was our relationship?”

Sylus looked like he was contemplating his answer, his gaze distant. His eyes seemed to have found your ceiling interesting as he thought deeply, drawing in a deep breath, and gently caressing your arm. If you didn’t know better, you swore you could see the sorrow and resignation in his eyes—the somberness he tried to hide with a smile.

“Let’s just say I’m a fool who was in love with you for years, but you never reciprocated my love.”

“How so?” you asked, turning to face him. You absorbed his words while the pain of his unrequited love intersected with your own confusion. His answer didn’t quite feel right, but if he was truly your lover, then you knew there was a level of trust you should be placing on him. “Why do I get the feeling that I was the one who experienced a one-sided love before?”

“No, you were loved. You were very loved. There was no one else,” he continued, lachrymose eyes staring back at you as he stroked your hair, “I was the one who wasn’t worthy of you… But I’d like to try and win your heart again this time. If you allow it.”

Sylus’s eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, the facade of the composed, enigmatic man you had come to know seemed to crack.

The vulnerability in his voice resonated with you, and you reached up to touch his face gently. “Sylus… I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry for not recognizing you before. I just… I lost a chunk of my memories, and I don’t know if it’s been altered or what, but…” Realizing that you were rambling, you took a deep breath. “I’ll try to remember, okay?”

“Please don’t.” He shook his head, a rueful smile playing on his lips while thinking of the past that was rightfully erased. “And there’s no need for apologies, sweetie. There wasn’t anything you did wrong.”

As the rain continued its gentle patter against the window, you both settled into the quiet of the room until he pressed his lips onto yours once more.

Sylus’s touch was tender as he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. “You should know,” he said quietly and earnestly, “that this time, I’ll only have eyes for you.”

FINAL PART

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus angst #sylus smut #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #lads x you #l&ds x reader #l&ds x you #lds x reader #lds x you #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #love & deepsace x reader

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nameless-ken · 1 month ago

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Bucky Barnes Fic Recs Pt. 2 - Imagines/One-Shots

More amazing stories written by amazing people 🤎✨🕯️💫🌹🪐🍂😊🤎🥺 If anyone would rather not be apart of this list please let me know & I'll edit it.

Part One

@inkdrinkerworld

courting: Bucky is a man from a different time. It shows when you start ‘going steady’ and honestly, you love it. Alternatively; Bucky uses 40’s dating etiquette to woo you, and surprises you with a modern turn of phrase.

@buckyalpine

Bucky can't lie: A smutty thot. Imagine the avengers fucking around with a lie detector test, testing how well the super soldiers were trained. Steve failed instantly while stating his own name, blushing from embarrassment. Bucky was shoved into the chair next.

@howiswhatawhy

Dive: college athlete! fuckboy(?)! bucky x tutor! Reader

@mrs-elsie-barnes

5 Times You Are Not Dating Bucky Barnes (and the one time you are)

@azaleassence

Party 4 u

@alisonsfics

you are my sunshine: a team bonding day is just what the thunderbolts need after a string of rough missions. you set aside all your other stress and make one goal for the day: get bucky to finally kiss you.

@orellazalonia

Even if You Forget: After a mission gone wrong, Bucky loses all memory of his relationship with you. Though heartbroken, you patiently stay by his side, offering gentle support and quiet company. Despite the emotional distance, you hold onto the hope that someday he’ll find his way back.

@cherdior

Till' Death Do Us Part: Even after your death, he continues to love you, so you stayed. You watch him fill the silence with old conversations, clinging to what used to be. But tonight, you finally ask him to let you go.

@jobean12-blog

In Your Arms: Bucky's been away on a mission and when he returns, you're all he wants.

@writingunderneathawillow

Blue Valentine: the four times bucky makes you cry + the one time you make him cry

@vividxpages

You, Forever: Bucky thinks if he gives this whole congressman thing some more months, he’ll might be okay with this new kind of lifestyle. Everything for the mission, right? But he just can’t bring himself to accept the fact that he keeps missing out on the evenings with you.

@lolab4t

Off Duty Part One: after a rare night off, you stumble back into avengers tower at 2 am.. tipsy, feet hurting, and definitely not expecting to run into bucky barnes on the couch. Part Two: days after the tipsy night on the couch, you’re left wondering what it meant… especially with bucky acting infuriatingly normal. the tension leads to a steamy exchange between the two, where bucky seems to let go of his gentleman manners for a bit.

@bcksgirl

helping bucky practice kissing leads to a whole lot more (SMUT)

@bcksbarnes

Flowers in Hand: unfortunately for bucky barnes, he is head over heels in love with you, and when you want something, it doesn't take much convincing. Traces of a Lonely World: bucky's job takes him away from you more that he cares to admit. most of the times you can understand, but there are some nights it tears you apart. Have I Found You: you and bucky are in the beginning stages of your relationship and get caught in a rainstorm

@magicaloneandmystery

Blush: the five times Bucky made you blush and the one time you did.

@fanficgirl429

Y/N admits to Bucky that she has feelings for him

@navybrat817

Don't Look or Touch: Bucky isn’t having a good day and John suffers the consequences

@thunderbolt-ing

"I Can't Do it Alone": Who would've thought that you tearing panelists apart with merely your sharp words would land you a job? Or, better yet, here's how you became Congressman Barnes' legislative aide.

@featherandferns

You or Nothing: when the Thunderbolts enter the void, Bucky goes missing. You take it upon yourself to find him, venturing into his deepest pockets of his shame.

@bruisedboys

bucky flirts with his shy secretary (fem!reader)

@artficlly

the art of pretending: being mentored by bucky is nothing short of torture; he’s cold, infuriating, and impossible to please. but when a mission gone wrong leaves you stranded in a freezing safehouse together, you start to wonder if all that supposed hatred has just been hiding something else entirely. (SMUT)

@midnightquips

Chaos: You and Bucky are involved in a friends with benefits situation. But when feelings start to creep in, you’re not quite sure if this situation is the best for you anymore.

@the-winter-spider

Pink Skies: He left, and the world didn’t end but something in you did. What followed wasn’t healing, not at first, just presence, patience, and hands that never let go.

@marvelstoriesepic

If you asked me now: Years after separating for college, you reunite with Bucky while coincidentally working the same wedding. Still on the list: Frat!College!Bucky x College!Reader - Bucky Barnes, the infamous frat guy, known for sleeping around and throwing parties left and right, constantly invites you, out of all people, to all of them. His intentions though remain a mystery to you. Following a troubling event that leaves you shaken and anxious, Bucky is there to pick up the pieces. Stolen glances and exchanged smiles gradually blossom into a connection that goes beyond what meets the eye. Powdered Sugar: childhood best friend fuckboy!Bucky x hopeless romantic!Reader - Your friend group is having a night out at the local carnival. Bucky is his charming self and you are tired of pretending it doesn’t affect you. Creamy and Crunchy: Bucky joins you grocery shopping to everyone’s surprise. Like he means it: You can’t take another night of hearing Bucky fuck a girl who isn’t you. Weakness: You use Bucky’s only weakness to your advantage until it bites you in the ass.

@delusionalwriterr

Gym Buddy: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Reader. You have a hard time keeping your eyes off of your gym crush.

@sinner-as-saint

stick to me, like caramel: Sergeant Barnes has retired, and moved as far away as possible from the superhero life. He’s still in touch with some of his friends, but he never asks them to visit. Nor does he ever leave the quaint, warm small town he’s found himself in, or the spacious home he has, nestled between mountains and dense pine woods. Bucky lives a quiet life, away from danger, guns and bullets, aliens and wizards, and all the other noises. He likes it here. It’s calm, nice, and quiet. Nothing stresses him out, nothing bothers him. Nothing, except a certain neighbour of his. She torments him, in the best ways. And Bucky’s not sure how long he can resist her. (SMUT)

@world-of-aus

Hot Shot: NHL!Photographer!Reader x Hockey Player!Bucky

@marvelwitchergilmore

Anchor: Bucky is there for you when no-one else is. Late Nights: Bucky talks to you after you have a nightmare. Something More: Since you met Bucky, he's always looked at you with...something more. And you never knew why. One day, you finally find out what he means by it.

@wkemeup

Flight Risk: Bucky becomes a flight risk after a failed mission and is put in lockup under Steve’s orders. Even though Bucky won’t say a word of what happened, you camp outside the door to his cell so he knows he isn’t alone.

@fawniswriting

Even Fallen Things: The story of a girl and her fallen flowers, as well as a boy who can't seem to forget either of them. After I Was Too Late: The three times Bucky saved your life, and the one time you save each other. Before I Could Say It: The three times Bucky almost confessed his love to you, and the one time he finally does.

@pellucid-constellations

Are You Bored Yet?: College!Bucky x Tutor!Reader - God, you hated Bucky. Bucky probably hated you, too. Maybe. It was hard to tell when he was drunk and calling you pretty at a party you shouldn't have gone to.

@msmarvelwrites

Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of: “ You had been an empath for as long as you could remember. But still, there were days more frequently than not that you wished you could turn it all off. ”

@cheekybarnes

The Shape of Life: You didn’t plan to become a guardian overnight—and you never planned to ask Bucky for help. He wants a future you’re not sure you believe in, and now you’re both standing at the edge of it, trying to decide what comes next. A Place to Land: After a night out goes violently wrong, you call Bucky—without knowing what you’re even asking for. He shows up anyway, staying long after the worst of it, until you finally start to believe you’re safe. Hold Fast: A winter mission goes sideways, forcing you to cross a frozen lake under fire. The ice doesn’t hold—and when you go under, Bucky is the only thing between you and the dark.

@waternilly

"Pick You Up at Seven?": Almost two weeks after meeting Bucky, he finally asks you out to a proper date.

@skaye44

Migraine: You suffer from migraines. You haven't had one in a while so you go out shopping with Wanda and Nat only for one to start when you are halfway done. You ask Bucky to come and get you, so he drops everything and does, leading to some TLC he gives you while you rest and recover.

@helaintoloki

Misunderstanding: you accept Bucky’s invitation to attend Tony’s charity gala as his date, but your night quickly turns sour when you find out about his bet with Natasha after accidentally sending yourself back in time, you run into a younger version of the man you loathe only to find yourself questioning your feelings for him Somethin' Stupid Part One: a drunken confession spoils a perfectly good evening Part Two: being forced to go on a mission together allows bucky and y/n to come to an understanding

@maemae2998

Behind Closed Doors: Military Officer Bucky AU (SMUT)

@thedevilsoftruth

gorgeous and cinnamon: A cute date with the hotie you met online turns into a night of him fucking your brains out after you open up to him about a certain " fella " who did you wrong. (SMUT)

@daxisyzz

Pretty Please: Bucky Barnes is hopelessly in love with you. He gives you everything you ask for—until you stop asking. That’s when he decides to give you the one thing you never say aloud.

@writingunderneathawillow

Dozed Off

@imtryingbuck

Timeless Love: Bucky might have met the love of his life in the middle of a war, he just wished he was able to live a life with her.

@mandoalorian

Under His Claim: Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Personal Assistant!Reader - After a heated confrontation with Ethan, Bucky can’t hold back any longer. His possessive instincts take over when he returns to the safe house. Bucky makes it clear that you are his—now and forever. (SMUT) The Cost of Freedom: Bucky thought he could outrun his past, but HYDRA always finds a way to drag him back. A confrontation with Ross reveals a chilling ultimatum—become the Winter Soldier again, or lose everything. When Bucky races back to your apartment, it’s already too late. You’re gone, leaving only an unmade bed and the echoes of a fight you never saw coming.

@aquaticmercy

The Congressman’s Secretary: Bucky forgets his birthday. You, his secretary, remember. Sanctuary: Bucky needs to vent, and you’re there to listen. One day, you both try a powerful sex magic ritual that blurs the line between healing and love. Better Man: Trapped in an abusive relationship, you cross paths with Bucky Barnes. Maybe, you deserve a second chance at love. Princess: You fall for Bucky Barnes, the Avenger assigned as your bodyguard. When a photo of the two of you kissing leaks to the tabloids, your clients start questioning your company’s integrity.

@malum-forev

Eyes, They Never Lie: Sam and Bucky try to recruit (Y/N), Bucky's ex and a former Avenger who has left that life behind. But they realize her life has changed completely once they meet a her daughter with striking blue eyes.

@appocalipse

The Same Thing: during a mission, you put yourself in harm's way to protect bucky. back at the avengers compound, he wants to know why.

@itsalliny0urhead

Let Me Stay: Bucky doesn’t ask for help. He never says he needs you. But when the nightmares hit, you’re the only one who can reach him. In the silence of the early hours, you hold him through the shaking, the memories, the guilt. He says he doesn’t deserve love — but you stay anyway. Because he’s yours. And you’ve never needed him to be perfect — only real.

@levanswrites

In the mood: He tells himself it’s fine. Gotta keep moving—bigger things to do, too many items on his list. His libido doesn’t even crack the top ten. Until he met… you.

@moonlitdesertdreams

the beach: Post CATWS, you and Bucky have found temporary refuge somewhere warm and tropical. Now, you both enjoy an early morning on the beach.

@vunblr

Crumbs of Connection: When Bucky wanders into a quirky late-night bakery, he doesn’t expect the warmhearted owner to challenge his defenses.

@ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes

An (Almost) Unheard Confession

@reverieblondie

Book Club: Working at a library and at times be boring... but what happens when one of your regulars wants to make a book club? Just you and him? (SMUT)

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natsuhara · 2 years ago

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tagsy mctaggerson

#ଘ ° ˖ ° ˖ study. ⤻ i can be bad if you dare me to be.#ଘ ° ˖ ° ˖ visuals. ⤻ summer sunlight‚ morning dew.#ଘ ° ˖ ° ˖ imagery. ⤻ an angel who clipped her own wings.#ଘ ° ˖ ° ˖ mannerisms. ⤻ the wise always quit while they're ahead.#ଘ ° ˖ ° ˖ edit.#ଘ ° ˖ ° ˖ queued.#ଘ ° ˖ ° ˖ saved.#ଘ ° ˖ ° ˖ ic. ⤻ the loneliest extrovert in the world.#ଘ ° ˖ ° ˖ ooc. ⤻ long suffering writer.#ଘ ° ˖ ° ˖ interaction call. ⤻ bestie application.#ଘ ° ˖ ° ˖ prompts. ⤻ a bank of goodness.#ଘ ° ˖ ° ˖ answered. ⤻ don't ask for what you can't accept.#ଘ ° ˖ ° ˖ main. ⤻ call off the sirens.#ଘ ° ˖ ° ˖ mutant. ⤻ the ballad of death & the healer.

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oyeixcher · 11 months ago

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🌑

#tusernix #tusersilence #tuserrowan #khaotunq #userdragonz #tuserhidden #uservid #usermask #userjamiec #tusermona #userspicy #great sapol #thai actors #edit #wandee goodday #manner of death #gmmtv actors #gmmtv #from his instagram

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ilguna · 3 months ago

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☼ six feet below (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; after being swallowed into the ground during the quarter quell, you’ve found yourself claustrophobic ever since. and so when you find out that district thirteen is a bunker, there’s no stopping the panic attack that comes.

warnings; swearing, torture and death mention, illness, claustrophobia, panic attack description.

wc; 3.5k

There has never been a more disappointing moment in your life than watching yourself get reaped for the Hunger Games a second time in less than a decade. Only this time, it was for a Quarter Quell. Which was destined to be your own personal hell.

The way your lips pulled up in disgust at the sound of your name, not at all amused by the Capitol’s antics. When you looked off, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of making eye contact with the camera, your face had been reflected back at you, due to a projection on a nearby building.

It was highly gratifying to know the entirety of Panem would see the irritation, and they’d never be able to edit it to make your reaction some other way. Even if they were to try and cut your expression out later on if you were to win, it would never fit.

You barely got reprimanded for it after. All your escort had to say was that it wasn’t very lady-like. As if there was a more graceful way to take the news you’d be fighting for your life again. You couldn’t help it when you asked her what the appropriate response would’ve been. Should you have thanked her?

She didn’t give you an answer, either because she couldn’t think of one or she knew if she were in your shoes, she would’ve broken into tears the moment her name had been called. Especially since she knows what it entails and just how brutal it can be.

From then on, you did your best to steer a wide path from her for the rest of the Capitol week. The last thing you needed was her correcting manners, when you could be dead within the next two weeks.

The week was far from what you thought it would be, not that you were expecting it to be easy. You knew there would be a lot of familiar faces, but it took until the Tribute Parade for you to realize what you were dragged into. You had to interact with other victors as a tribute that you’d met as a mentor. Several of your friends found themselves in the same position you were in.

Not to mention, your boyfriend had been reaped, too.

Finnick couldn’t stop the onslaught of tears that followed. When you saw the way the stylist had dressed him for the Capitol—you were inconsolable. He thought it was because you were scared, causing him to swear up and down he would protect you. When really, you were terrified if you’d make it out alive without him, and you’d be forced to live with his ghost.

The Capitol had you trapped, something they were never able to do before.

When you were announced the winner of the Sixty-seventh Hunger Games, you promised yourself you’d never let the Capitol get the best of you. If you could control it, you’d always stay one step ahead, sometimes two if you could manage it. It’d worked out so far, right up until that point.

You were sixteen when you won, and seventeen when you returned for your first year of mentoring. President Snow tried to negotiate a deal with you, but you’d already heard the rumors of what it meant. All the victors back home in Eleven warned you about what he would want from you, what it would mean going forward.

They weren’t wrong, and while you were ready for everything he had to throw at you, it was hard to keep a grip on your future. He threatened your family, only for you to tell him most of them had died due to the illness that was going around. Anyone still alive wouldn’t be for much longer.

He threatened your friends, all of which you’d lost following your Games. As glorious as the victor life is in the Career districts, it’s less so in District Eleven. And while the whole year of rations should’ve lifted a lot of spirits, it hardly worked in your favor. There weren’t a lot of congratulations to go around.

So, President Snow threatened your life.

You stared him in the eye as you gave him a shrug, telling him he was more than welcome to give it a go. Your quality of life had significantly decreased already, what else could he do?

Nothing. Nothing was the answer.

It was probably the first time a tribute has ever pulled one over on the president without having their hand slapped immediately after. Seeder was convinced he’d have something coming for you, but you were left alone. Maybe it was because he knew the Quarter Quell would be coming, and he’d have you then.

Well, he was right. The wishful thinking that you’d be able to escape them forever worked for a handful of years. As time grew on, it became harder to keep it that way, and when the Quell had been announced, you gave it up altogether. President Snow knew it was a matter of time before he’d get you under his thumb. And he had you good.

The arena has been and always will feel like it’s targeted at you. You’re sure everyone thinks the same when they rise out of the podium, but your misfortune so far has been immeasurable compared to the others.

The jungle was no exception.

You tried to regain your footing when it came to being a step ahead, by remembering how deceitful the arena had been for Haymitch. You figured it would be the same way, just by looking at how the arena had been sectioned out.

The concentric circles seemed purposeful, with the way it had been the Cornucopia, the water, the beach and then the jungle. The only part that didn’t make sense were the twelve spokes that shot out from the center, but you shrugged it off, thinking the Gamemakers needed to add ground for the tributes who weren’t strong swimmers.

The lightning, fog and monkeys should’ve been your clue as to what was happening, except you were too busy fighting for your life to be drawing up theories. So you can imagine your surprise when Katniss announced the arena was working like a clock, and that’s what Wiress had been attempting to communicate the whole time you’d reunited with the second half of the alliance.

It made sense for the next couple hours, the group of you had gone to the center to see it all play out. Then the Gamemakers spun that goddamn Cornucopia, confusing you all again. None of you had any idea on where to go, so you took a gamble on one of the spokes and decided to wait on the beach until one of the hours gave away what time it was.

At some point during this period, you thought you’d check out the jungle while you found a place to relieve yourself. Finnick wanted to go with you, but he got pulled away by Johanna when she began to argue with Katniss again. You promised him you’d be careful, and went off.

You don’t think you made it twenty feet in before you were swallowed by the dirt. It was as if you stepped into quicksand, only it was dry and you sunk much faster. You barely managed a scream before you were breathing in the jungle’s dirt.

It felt like you were stuck in the ground forever, trying to claw your way out, holding your breath, but it couldn’t have been longer than a minute or two. By the time your hands broke the surface, Finnick and a few of the others were there, searching for you. As soon as you’d been spotted, they tugged you out and several feet away from where you’d been eaten.

You were choking on dirt while gasping for air, feeling the crunch of the soil between your teeth, the way it stuck to the back of your throat. You couldn’t help it when the first sob came from you, tears washing away the filth that was stuck in the creases of your eyes.

Finnick held you, rocking you as you cried into him. You couldn’t stop, you knew if they’d shown up a few minutes later, you’d be dead. Just another victor to be remembered but never forgotten. Anyone would’ve reacted the same way you had, even Johanna.

However, if you knew President Snow would capitalize off this moment, you never would’ve shown how vulnerable it made you. You would’ve just shaken off the experience and pushed through.

Instead, Snow exploited it.

It was planned that at the end of the third day in the arena, what was left of the rebel alliance should meet at the lightning tree. Whoever was left in the area after the arena exploded would get rescued and brought to a safe place. The main goal was to make sure Katniss was there, since she’s the face of the rebellion. Everyone else was expendable.

It worked out fine in the beginning, but the plan went to shit when what was left of the Careers tried to attack you, Johanna and Katniss while you were executing Beetee’s instructions. The three of you got split up, and while you were off fighting Enobaria, the arena went black, which meant the hovercraft would be appearing at any moment.

When you did get to the tree, it was far too late. The hovercraft had come and gone, and you were left to fend for yourself. You found you weren’t the only one left behind, because Johanna and Peeta showed up shortly after, accusations flying everywhere.

It didn’t matter what you had to say to either of them, because you all wound up in Capitol custody. And all the pent up anger Snow had been containing was released on you for the next couple weeks.

It was a good thing the rebels from District Thirteen rescued you when they did, because you were beginning to crack. Just a few more hours and you’re sure you would’ve started telling the Capitol anything and everything they wanted to hear—even if it would’ve been lies.

You’re just glad the people of Thirteen have been understanding of your situation so far. They’ve been so patient when it comes to interacting with the refugees—a bulk of them coming from Twelve. From what you heard, it’s been flattened by the bombs from the Capitol, following the abrupt ending of the Quarter Quell.

You’ve slowly started integrating into their lifestyle after being in the hospital. The head doctor has finally allowed you to move into a compartment with Finnick, which means you have free reign of the building. You’re returning to normalcy, even if it’s taking forever.

Your favorite part about your newfound freedom is that you’re able to sit at a table with your friends, again. You never thought you’d be able to enjoy their presence after what happened in the Capitol. But it seems as if the doctors don’t care about the intermingling of the victors.

“How was your time in the Capitol?” Peeta asks you, stone cold serious. “Did you enjoy it?”

Although, maybe they should.

You stare at him for a long moment, not sure how you’d like to respond. You didn’t know Peeta super well prior to the Games, but he was always courteous in passing. If this is how the Capitol has left him, you can’t even begin to think of what they might’ve done.

You’ve noticed that he’s lost his sugar-coating. Everything he says seems raw and unfiltered, which you can come to appreciate in the future. As of now, he needs to be reminded that sensitivity isn’t a weakness, even if the Capitol has taught him otherwise.

“Did you?” You shoot back at him. “I distinctly remember you crying for your mother, but maybe I’m mistaken.”

Peeta lets out a short laugh, a half-smile on his face.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be talking about the Capitol so soon.” Finnick interjects, reaching over to rub your back. He raises his eyebrows, expression gentle as he watches your face. “It’s not the greatest subject.”

“Why not?” Johanna asks, mouth full of food. “Peeta and I can talk about it, right?” She nudges him with her elbow. Peeta gives a mechanic nod, causing your face to twist. “We’ve come to grow as best friends.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Peeta murmurs, looking away.

“Johanna, don’t tease him.” Finnick tilts his head. He stops rubbing your back, instead moving to hold your hand to squeeze it.

“I’m not.” Johanna says simply. “Would you rather me tease (Y/n)?”

“No.” He tells her, tone hard.

“Yes, absolutely.” You nod. “What do you have for me?”

She eyes Finnick, gauging whether or not it’s worth what Finnick will do to her. She must decide it isn’t, because she crosses her arms and leans forward onto the table, shrugging her shoulders.

“Oh, come on.” You groan. “No snark? You’re going soft on me.”

“I would, but I’m mildly afraid of triggering Peeta in the process.” She says.

Peeta rolls his eyes, which is so unlike him that you can’t take your eyes off of him.

“Okay, fine.” Johanna says. “Why do you always have Finnick walk in front of you? You never hold hands and walk side by side anymore.”

You look past her to the concrete ground, and all you picture is the ground opening up, a dark pit waiting for you underneath. It’s pretty self-explanatory on why you act the way you do. You thought she was more observant than this.

“The arena.” You tell her. “The sixth hour.”

“That’s it?” Johanna asks. “You let the jungle get the better of you?”

Finnick clears his throat, shaking his head at her. “Was the blood rain easy for you?”

“It’s not that the jungle got the better of me. Do you know what it’s like to be encased in dirt?”

“I do. We currently are.” Johanna waves her hand in the air.

Your face twists, eyes squinting at her. “What do you mean?”

She opens her mouth, raising her eyebrows as if it’s obvious. “Where do you think we are?”

“District Thirteen.” You say, not getting it. “Where else would we be?”

“Are you fucking with me?” Johanna asks.

You two stare at each other for a minute. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Johanna. What do you mean we’re encased in dirt?”

“District Thirteen is a bunker.” Peeta tells you plainly. “Everyone knows that.”

No—no, not everyone knows that. You didn’t know that. You’ve been underground this whole time? You thought… you thought that Thirteen was just some building hidden in the woods, too far for the Capitol to reach. You never would’ve guessed it’s a bunker.

You can feel your heart begin to beat in your chest, room elongating due to the new information. You grip your silverware tightly in your hand, knuckles turning pale, swallowing hard.

“(Y/n)?” Finnick asks, trying to pull his hand free.

Your hands pop open, fork clattering against the metal table, fingers beginning to shake. You’re going to get trapped down here. The bunker could explode at any moment. It’ll be much harder to escape a cement chamber than it was to crawl out of dirt.

You can feel the air rapidly passing between your lips, a hand placed on your chest, which seems to grow tight with every passing breath.

“Honey, breathe.” Finnick tells you, combing your hair out of your face. “What’s the matter?”

“I’ll never get out.” You gasp, shoving your food tray away from you.

You suddenly get to your feet, tripping when you try to step over the bench. You find yourself staring down at the floor, the same one that was opening up earlier. The only thing holding you up are your hands and knees, which are shaking so hard you can’t even see straight.

“(Y/n)!” Finnick shouts, sounding drowned and faraway.

Your hand forms a fist, which you slam against the ground, as if it’ll let you out of the nightmare. You’re stuck, though. You’re back in that box, body twisted in awkward angles to let you breathe, staring into the pitch black—into the unknown.

“Let me out!” You scream, bending your arms to push off. Nothing moves. Nothing ever moves. They won’t let you out, not until they’ve decided you suffered enough. You could be here for the next ten hours if they felt like it.

It’s always a box, and it’s never big enough to let you breathe.

“(Y/n), let’s go.” A voice says, grabbing onto your arms, pulling you to your legs.

You stumble, feeling the sweat dribble down your forehead, reaching out to stabilize yourself. Finnick’s face is in yours, too blurry to focus on. He’s saying something, trying to pull you along, but your knees have locked in place.

He just sweeps you up into his arms, hurrying out of the room.

“Please don’t take me back there.” You cry.

“I won’t, (Y/n).” Finnick places a swift kiss to your forehead. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

He takes you into the elevator, doesn’t bother shutting the safety door, and presses the button that will bring you straight up without stopping. When you reach what you perceive as the ground floor, you’re met with multiple unwelcoming faces.

“Please, she just needs to be outside.” Finnick begs, pushing through them. “She can’t be in there right now.”

“Let them through!” A voice calls, a man in black armor waves Finnick on.

He wastes no time, running through the space, straight to the nearest door. He backs through it, shielding you from the initial sunlight. As soon as it touches your skin, you break.

Finnick lets you down to your feet, only to watch as you collapse in the grass, crawling a few feet away from the door, sobbing into the Earth. You take handfuls of it in your hands, ripping the roots free from the soil, throwing them away.

Two weeks.

You’d basically spent two straight weeks in a box. The only time you were let out was to relieve yourself, and then you were locked back in. It didn’t matter how much you screamed, how much you begged, how much you pushed against the walls. You could never leave.

The spots that had been appearing over your vision are finally disappearing, but the lightheadedness isn’t. You lift your hand in Finnick’s direction, and that’s all he needs before he’s cradling you against his body, trying to console you.

“I’m so sorry.” He tells you, lips pressed to your hair. “I promised to protect you. I told you nothing would happen.”

“You never could’ve known.” You tell him, fingers tight against his jumpsuit. “He’s been trying to get me for years.”

“I know.” Finnick sniffs, holding you tighter. “I tried to stop it. I never wanted him to have you."

You sit in silence for a long time. He rocks you, humming a tune he learned from Katniss, gently massaging your head. You watch as the trees behind him seem to return to normal, no longer so far away. And there's a dull ache in your fingers from how hard you've been squeezing them.

"I need help." You murmur to Finnick.

"With what?" He asks, pulling away to see your face.

"I need to see the head doctor, don't I?" You ask, lips trembling.

Finnick brushes the sensitive skin on your cheeks. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, honey." He tilts his head to look at you better.

"I wanted to be fine." You tell him.

"And it's okay that you're not." He says. "Katniss, Peeta, Johanna, Haymitch and I got help while we’ve been here. And we knew it was only a matter of time before you’d follow in our steps.”

Your face twists. “What do you mean it was a matter of time?”

“You started doing things that weren’t like you.” His eyes fall away. “You won’t go into small rooms. You touch the tips of your feet to the ground to make sure it’s solid. You ask people to walk in front of you. You stop in doorways to look inside rooms before deciding to go in.”

Your lips wobble, hearing your mannerisms repeated back to you… You can feel another round of tears coming, building in your eyes. When Finnick looks up to see your reaction, his face softens. He cups your face in his hands, shaking his head.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“We’ll get you help.” He tells you, wiping away the tears that fall with his thumbs. “Just like we did for Annie. You’ll get better.”

“But I’ll never be the same.”

Finnick presses a warm kiss to your lips. “That will never stop me from loving you.”

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jedijune · 2 months ago

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Jedi June 2025

A creative fandom event dedicated to appreciating the Jedi, taking place during the entire month of June! Each week will feature two prompts, around which people can create fanwork (of any kind – fic, art, cosplay, edits, anything you can think of) or meta focusing on the Jedi and the Jedi Order. All eras and continuities are welcome; OCs, established characters, doesn’t matter – it just needs to be about appreciating the Jedi!

Rules:

If you are participating, please tag your work/meta with #jedi june and/or @ this blog so that I will see it and reblog it here. All work must be your own. Feel free to crosspost it off-site.

This is an appreciation event, focusing on what we love and enjoy about the Jedi – not what we don’t. This is not the place to air your grievances with the Code, take potshots at the Council, prop certain Jedi/certain eras of Jedi up at the expense of others, or disparage the Jedi Order or their philosophy (including the concept of non-attachment) and way of life in any way. You are free to do that on your own time if that’s your thing, but it has no place within this event.

AUs and crossovers are allowed, with caveats: again, the purpose of this event is to appreciate the Jedi as Jedi, so sticking your favorite Jedi characters in something like a modern AU or making them all Sith or Mandalorian is not really within the spirit of this event. However, AUs such as making a non-Jedi character a Jedi, having a character survive their canon death, giving a character a different teacher or padawan, or killing Palpatine off-screen in an unspecified yet embarrassing and painful manner, would all be perfectly fine. Use your best judgement to determine whether an AU fits the spirit of the event or not.

On non-attachment: in a general sense, attachment refers to grasping, clinging, possessiveness, jealousy, and the "I can't live without you"/"I will burn down the galaxy before I risk losing you" attitude. See this post and this post for more information. A romance can certainly exist without these things, so you can certainly write Jedi in relationships for this event!

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Following the prompts is encouraged, but not required. Any sort of pro-Jedi content is encouraged all year month long, and if tagged (and following the rules), will be reblogged.

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Prompts:

Week 1 (June 1 - 7):

Prompt 1: Survive

Prompt 2: Thrive

Week 2 (June 8 - 14):

Prompt 1: Precognition

Prompt 2: Telekinesis

Week 3 (June 15 - 21):

Prompt 1: Community

Prompt 2: Symbiosis

Week 4 (June 22 - 30):

Prompt 1: Celebration

Prompt 2: Hope

Bonus (any time):

Prompt 1: Resisting Evil/The Dark Side/The Sith

Prompt 2: Light in the Darkness

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 10 months ago

Text

plum

reprised edition

a/n: this guy has been on my mind lately, so i decided to do a thing i've been thinking about since i wrote this story: stitch this whole series into one huge oneshot, edit it, fine-tune it and finally round it off from where i just dropped it one and a half years ago.

summary: “fuck…” all the air escaped Tommy’s lungs, “I thought she was dead…” his glistening eyes didn’t rip away from your frame for even a second as he revealed, “yeah… yeah, I know her. She’s like family.”

warnings: joel miller x former firefly!reader, reprised version of my series plum, smut, dark content (traumatic past including: forced pregnancy, rape, drugging, essentially being held as a slave, death/murder, solitary confinement, suicidal thoughts), rape recovery, jackson era, age gap (20 years), fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, violence, blood and gore, torture, ptsd, panic attacks, nightmares, crying, alcohol consumption, slow burn, bff!tommy, love confessions, kissing, dirty talk, masturbation, dry humping, pussyjob, light choking, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, pull out method, angsty ending/cliff hanger

word count: 15.180

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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Clenching your fists together tight enough that the bones creaked under the pressure, you sucked in a sharp breath and readied yourself for the heavy footsteps making their way around the corner to where you hid. As soon as you saw a bright flashlight flicker in your direction, you pounced, opting to immediately jump the figure, rather than act too late and having history repeat itself. Alas, your attempted ambush didn’t pay out as you only managed to get a few good hits in before the man’s might came down upon you.

“Joel?” a different man shouted from the room opposite the one you’d hidden in, obviously picking up on the scuffle.

Your next punch then promptly fell short as the unexpectedly familiar rough voice sent goosebumps all over your already freezing skin.

You knew that voice… no doubt in your mind who it was…

“Tommy?” you just managed to call out to the not-yet-visible man, quickly coming to your attacker’s aid, before your weakened stance sent the whole scuffle directly into the rough concrete wall to the right, your already bruised temple colliding with it and knocking you clean out.

Rushing into the room, gun already lowering, Tommy swiftly extended an arm out to halt Joel as he instinctually followed your form as it dropped like a sack of potatoes, wholly ready to finish the job.

“Wait, stop!”

Holding back his punch, Joel glanced up at his little brother, observing as his wide eyes raked over your unconscious figure.

“What, do you know her or something?” he asked, the adrenaline causing the sentence to come out sounding rather vile.

“Fuck…” all the air escaped Tommy’s lungs, “I thought she was dead…” his glistening eyes didn’t rip away from your frame for even a second as he revealed, “yeah… yeah, I know her. She’s like family.”

Jolting awake, a pair of hands quickly found your shoulders in a calming manner.

“Wow, wow, it’s okay, plum, you’re alright, you’re safe,” your frantic eyes finally came to rest on Tommy’s figure sitting beside the cot you had been placed in. Answering before you even had the chance to ask or unravel any further, he continued, “you’re in Jackson, we brought you back home.”

Sitting on the small bed with a palm rooted on the mattress for support, you trembled, “I’m home?” and the floodgates immediately burst open, letting the relieved tears flow that you’d come to believe wouldn’t ever see the light of day.

“You’re home,” the familiar person holding a worn clipboard at the foot of the cot nodded softly.

“Doctor Duncan?” the friendly face made you squeeze your eyes shut in an effort to bear the overwhelming nature of finally being safe.

“Hi Y/n,” she kneeled down to be more at your height and softly told you, “it’s good to have you back.”

Fighting hard not to let the dizzy feeling in your body win, you sobbed, “I can’t believe I’m actually here.”

“All this time,” Tommy breathed, “I thought you were dead.”

Looking up into his glossy eyes, you admitted, “I almost was…”

Not being able to resist any longer, he asked, “did the others–, are they–”

“No…” you shook your head lightly and glanced down at the dark fleece blanket draped over your aching body, “they didn’t suffer though, it was quick, painless for them…”

You honestly hadn’t thought about any of the people you’d been travelling with in ages, out of the pure need to survive, but now that you finally did, the vile memories had your empty stomach clenching in need to vomit.

“What happened?” Tommy asked, though was quickly counteracted by doctor Duncan’s soothing voice.

“You don’t have to answer that right now, sweetheart,” and gave you a pained glance.

Of course, Aria had gathered some pieces to the puzzle from just the minor check-up she had undoubtedly done as soon as you had been brought into the infirmary. She didn’t have to look any further than just your still faintly bruised wrists to get an idea of what horrors you had clawed your way out of to get back here.

“I–…uhm…” you struggled to keep your breathing steady as you let your vision drift and the painful words fall from your lips, “we were ambushed by a group of hunters. They did what they do, killed everyone without even thinking twice about it… except when they found me,” you unconsciously dug your nails into the root of your palm, hard enough for the skin to break, “I was hiding and I could hear,” you closed your eyes, still recollecting the 2-year-old memory clear as day, “every single one of them get shot. One after the other, Trevor, Alice, Benny, Sam, almost rhythmically with how fast it was. But when they found me, they didn’t pull the trigger. Said that my head was too pretty to put a bullet through it. So instead, they just knocked me out. I woke up back at their base, chained in this cell… they–… they–…” as much as you wanted to tell these people you cared so much about every single horrifying thing you’d had to endure, you just couldn’t. The words physically wouldn’t come out of your mouth.

Squeezing your eyes shut, tight enough that they hurt, Tommy’s quiet voice pulled you back from the black hole of memories you’d found yourself in.

“Jesus christ, Y/n…” he uttered, barely breathing at all.

Since your old home here in Jackson had long been occupied by somebody else, Tommy had insisted that you stay at his and Maria’s house, just till you got back on your feet, and they could find you somewhere more permanent to live.

It took a bit, but eventually, Tommy managed to twist his big brother’s arm and get him to reluctantly give a hand at setting a room up for you.

Ever since you’d gotten back, Joel had assumed that he had now understandably become a foe in your eyes with the less-than-pleasant way your first meeting had transpired. So, he just tried his best to stay far away from where you were, figured from the little he had heard through the grapevine that you’d been through enough and didn’t need to also deal with his old mug in the foreseeable future.

But still, after finally setting down the hefty mattress the two brothers had hauled halfway through town, Joel couldn’t help but let some of his curiosity slip out, “why do you call her that anyway?”

“Huh?” Tommy cocked an eyebrow as he passed Joel the bottle of water he had just taken a healthy swig from himself.

“Plum,” he accepted the much-needed drink, “why do you call her plum?”

“Oh, it’s kind of a funny story actually,” his little brother smiled, leaning back against the paint-chipped windowsill, “back in the beginning, not too long after I had joined the fireflies, she just showed up one day. Couldn’t have been more than–, hell, she couldn’t have been more than Ellie’s age back then. She just waltzed right up and demanded to speak to Marlene. And as a way to get her foot in the door, sweeten the deal a bit, her pockets were filled to the brim with plums. Fucking plums. Like, where did she even get them?” he laughed, finding the memory too entertaining for his own good, “so that’s how we introduced her, told Marlene that a little plum was here to speak to her. I guess the nickname just kinda stuck after that…”

“She was a firefly with you?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “we even quit at the same time and travelled out here to Wyoming together.”

“So, you two really go way back then?” the older man commented, still oozing with mistrust.

“Joel,” Tommy caught his brother’s eye, “she was the best man at mine and Maria’s wedding. Yeah, we go way back,” a protectiveness glistened over him, “she’s like my little sister. She is my little sister.”

The dry twig that suddenly snapped underneath your boot caused the soft strumming, that you’d become so captivated by, to stop at once. Holding your breath, Joel’s eyes found yours.

“I’m sorry,” you rushed out, all of a sudden feeling as if you’d been invading his privacy, “I–… I’m sorry…”

You hadn’t been able to sleep, so instead of just tossing and turning, you’d gone for a little walk around the slumbering town. It had not been your intention to spy on him, but the gentle music that reverberated from his guitar had drawn you in like a siren song, unintentionally making you step closer and closer to where he sat out on his dimly lit porch.

“It’s fine, you don’t have anything to apologise for,” he swiftly set the instrument aside and averted his gaze, the action giving you a stomach ache.

“No,” you moved a bit closer, slowly climbing the short steps, “I think I do…” and when you only received a furrowed brow in response, you continued softly, “I wanna apologise for punching you the other day.”

“Why?” he asked, seeming genuinely confused.

“Because that’s not the kind of first impression that I wanted Tommy’s famed big brother to have of me,” you nervously bit down on your bottom lip.

“What, he told you about me?”

“Yeah, honestly wouldn’t shut up about you. Practically idealised you,” you fiddled with your hands behind your back, “hell, I think he still does.”

“Well,” he nodded politely, still not letting his gaze stay upon you for too long at a time, “like I said, you have nothing to be sorry for,” then let out a deep sigh, “I, however, would like to apologise to you… I didn’t know who you were, and if I did, then I wouldn’t have just–”

“It’s fine,” you cut in, your face briefly crinkling up in unease, “if the roles were reversed, I’d have done the exact same,” trying and failing to catch his eye, you asked, “we square?”

“Yeah,” he offered you a light nod, keeping his vision fixed upon his interlocked hands resting in his lap.

“Okay,” you exhaled, leaning back against the railing, “good.”

“Gotta give it to you though,” he let out just the essence of a chuckle, “you throw a mean punch.”

Biting down on your blooming smile, you confirmed assuredly, “yeah, I know.”

Shaky breaths flowed in and out past your lips as you pressed your forehead against the majestic animal standing before you in the dark barn.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you sniffled quietly, attempting to ground yourself as you stroked your palm over the horse’s dark coat, “I’m home, I’m safe, I-I’m okay…”

Hearing footsteps suddenly approach the dark stall you were standing in, a rough voice broke the silence of the early morning hours, “hey Viking,” the horse by you puffed gently at the man in acknowledgement, “you ready to go?” then as he rounded the corner and finally caught sight of you, his brisk stride halted completely, “oh, hi.”

“Hi Joel,” you rushed to wipe the runny snort from your nose and the flowing tears from your cheeks, then attempted a forced smile, “you gonna head out on patrol?”

“I, uhm,” his brows furrowed in concern, “yeah.”

“You’ve been taking a lot of shifts lately,” you noticed, “don’t you usually wait till the sun comes up to leave?”

“Sometimes,” he purposely kept his replies short, then surprised you by asking softly, “you know Viking?” and reached up to pet the horse’s broad cheek himself.

“Yeah, we know each other pretty well me and him,” your faked smile grew a little more genuine, “we used to go out on patrol all the time back in the day.”

“Really? Do you–, uh, you want him back?”

“Nah, I can see he really likes you. You two make a pretty good team… Anyhow,” you glanced down at the hay-covered floor, “I don’t think I’d be that much fun for him to hang out with since I’m not so sure I’m quite ready to go out yet… think it’s at least smart to wait till I start sleeping through the night again,” you tried to jest, though didn’t manage to gain any reaction from Joel.

Lightly chewing on his inner cheek, he stared down at you with such empathy that you feared your tears might pick up again, “is that why you came out here? Trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “I don’t really sleep anymore… and if I do, then I–… I am right back there… wake up screaming or crying… and I can’t talk to Tommy about all of this,” you shut your eyes a moment, “he knows me too well and I just can’t bear to see that look on his face,” locking in on Joel’s dark eyes, you uttered, “like I’m breaking his heart beyond repair.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel averted his gaze and then tried, “is there anything I can do? You can have as much time with Viking as you’d like, if that could help.”

Letting out a choked chuckle at his offhand offer, you then bit down on your bottom lip, “could you–… uhm…” you scrunched up your face and wrestled with the internal debate of if you should actually ask him or not, “it’s gonna sound silly, but could you maybe just hold my hand? Just for a little bit?”

Sucking in a breath that he never quite seemed to let out again, he glanced down at your right hand and nodded lightly, “sure,” then held his own out, palm up, for you to grasp.

For the first second, you noticed yourself stiffen up, then you abruptly felt your body let go in a way that it hadn’t quite done yet. Nearly instantaneously squeezing your eyes shut, you just tried to breathe through it, or frankly, just actually breathe at all.

He was just holding your hand. How could such a tiny thing do so much?

Joel didn’t say a word, not even let out a sound. He just stood there, holding your hand as you full-on broke down beside him.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” you wept, the reaction not seeming to surprise him half as much as it did you.

Running his thumb softly over your knuckles, he uttered simply, “it’s okay,” and you noticed how hard your body was shaking under his light grasp.

“Y-you were on your way out and I’m keeping you, it’s–, I’m really sorry…”

“I’m not in any hurry, plum. I’ll head out whenever you’re ready. You just say the word and I’ll go.”

“Oh, man…” you breathed out as your fingertips ghosted over the dusty spines of the many novels lined up in front of you.

You’d snuck out. Like a teenager in the night, you’d snuck out of Jackson. You weren’t particularly proud of it, being way too seasoned not to know the stupidity of not even leaving a note.

But it was just a small trip, a few hours tops. You’d be back before anyone would realise you were gone. You just knew that they wouldn’t have let you go if you’d spoken up, at least not alone.

With a few books already reserved, the hardcovers pressed tightly against your chest, locked in place by your forearm, you glanced up and spotted a particularly intriguing title, one that tickled a memory long forgotten. Lifting yourself onto your tiptoes and reaching your free hand up as far as it would go, your fingertips only managed to kiss the binding, not gaining nearly enough of a hold to get it down.

Giving it a few forceful pokes in hopes that it would just push the book enough for you to be able to grasp it fully and therefore quietly retrieve it, the hardcover instead came crashing down, causing not only a cloud of dust to puff up in the abandoned library but also sent a deafening thump echoing down deeper within the vast building.

Freezing up, barely even breathing at all, you glanced down at the dropped book and a cluster of bloodcurdling, guttural screeches found your ears. As silently as you could manage, you reached for your knife, having not been able to grab a firearm back at Jackson since they were under much more severe security.

Evidently, the library wasn’t as vacant as you’d thought. There turned out to be two, maybe three clickers scattered about, somewhere in the many rows of bookcases surrounding you.

Needing both hands to defend yourself, you slowly shifted the books in your arm and slid the pile onto an open spot on the dusty shelf before you. Holding your breath, you hoped the action hadn’t created too much noise.

Standing still, standing ever so still, you heard one of the creatures creep closer. Tightening your grip around the handle of your blade, you watched as the blooming fungi appeared around the corner.

Debating for a moment if you should strike out or just keep standing there, hoping you could somehow hide amongst the stories long enough for you to eventually slip out, the sudden shriek it then produced as it whipped towards you decided your next move.

Having luck on your side, your knife found purchases in the monster’s neck and as you sliced it open, exposing its mutated vocal cords. The clicker swiftly dropped to the floor, but the ruckus alarmed the rest of your exact location.

With the second one being closer than you’d imagined, the fight was a struggle, and it ultimately forced you to the ground, the infected gnawed atop of you, biting the air in hopes that your tender flesh would accompany some of it.

And just as you thought your doom had finally arrived, that you had lost all hope of triumph, a gunshot rang out amidst the books, blowing a lethal hole into the creature’s skull.

Sucking in a startled breath, you shoved the rotten corpse off of you. Before you could even manage to get back up on your feet, an outstretched hand appeared right in front of your face.

Blinking up at Joel in alarm, the loud cry of the last remaining creature had you holding your sharp tongue. Accepting his aid, you got back up and quickly took a look around, prepared for the noisy gunshot to have sent the final one sprinting straight in your direction.

As Joel spotted how your eyes promptly widened in horror, seizing the clue, he whirled around and covered your body with his broad form as he raised up his pistol, ready to unload into the clicker scampering towards you.

It was only when it laid unmoving on the ground that you noticed how his hand was holding onto your midsection and shielding you protectively. Ripping it away at once, you then gave his sturdy form a big shove, “what the fuck are you doing here?”

“What am I doing–, what are you doing here?” Joel bellowed, “the hell were you thinking running off like that? Do you know how reckless, how goddamn stupid that was?”

Fighting the urge to slap him across that salt-and-pepper cheek of his, you scowled, “did you follow me?”

Either he purposefully ignored your question or perhaps he was just way too wrapped up in his own fury not to let himself continue, “do you have any idea what could have happened to you?”

“I can take care of a few infected myself,” you wiped your blade clean against your jeans, then folded it back up and tucked it away in your pocket.

“I know that.”

“Then why–”

“Because the infected aren’t the only threat out here and you know it,” he dared to say. His twitching face softened ever so slightly at the grave look that promptly flooded your features, “they are still out there, Y/n.”

Blood boiling, you turned around on your heel, picked up the abandoned books and determinedly walked towards the exit, bumping your shoulder heatedly into him as you passed.

You’d nearly reached the outskirts of Jackson without uttering a single word to Joel. Not even once was a quick glance offered in his direction. It wasn’t like he had tried to get a verbal response from you since you’d exited the library, but just the fact that he was still there, following right behind you, just like the rapidly rising sun in the sky, made you feel like a ticking bomb.

Suddenly, you stopped your determined trek and broke the silence.

“What made you think you have the right to do that, to say something like that? You don’t think I’m already painfully aware that they’re still out there?” the uncontrollable words spewed out passed your lips like venom, “you don’t know me, Joel. You don’t get to say stuff like that just because you’re Tommy’s brother.”

“Y/n, I–”

Whirling around, you cut him off, tears blurring your bloodshot eyes, “do you really think I can’t protect myself? Protect myself against them? You don’t think I know them a hell of a lot better than any of you do? You don’t think I know all of their tactics, all of their ticks, exactly how they think better than any of you who haven’t even met them once? You don’t think I bothered to get to know every single detail about them when they held me captive? When they kept me as a fucking slave for their own sadistic pleasure? How do you think I finally escaped from there, huh? You think it was just dumb luck? Do you think I’m lucky? Is that what you would call luck? Would you really wanna call me of all people lucky?” you ignored your body’s wishes of throwing up your stomach contents instead of the painful sentences, “you have no idea what they did, what they–…” your voice broke, and you truly tried to continue, to speak, to share, knowing that the actual words would shut him up for good, but to no success. He didn’t say anything as he watched your lips frustratingly try over and over again to tell him, but in the end gave up, hissing at him right before you spun around again, “fuck you, Joel. I don’t want your help. I didn’t ask for it and I sure as hell don’t want it.”

As you began to walk away, his pleading voice stopped you, “don’t go after them on your own. With the resources here at Jackson, you could do it in a much smart way, in a way that doesn’t get you killed.”

Sniffling heatedly, you glared back at him, “what makes you think I’d actually do that?”

He glanced down at you in such a way that he looked like an immovable mountain, as if none of your threats had scared him off, “I know that look in your eye,” he uttered with unmistakable understanding shining clear through in his deep voice, “I know you’re desperate for things to get better, for you to be able to just breathe again. But I also know that that kind of desperation can be one hell of a motivator. Even if it’s not there yet, if you’re not already making a plan of attack, it’ll come,” he didn’t raise his voice once, keeping it low and steady, “and when it does, I just ask you to let us have your back, that’s all. If you ever want revenge, then let us help you.”

“I was thinking that maybe you could start helping out down in the greenhouses a bit,” Maria suggested as she, a little over a week after the library incident transpired, called you into her office to have a talk.

“Uh, yeah, sure, that sounds fine,” you shrugged, blinking back at her over the wooden desk.

Squinting her eyes at you a moment, she then went on, “there is actually something else that I wanna talk to you about…”

Already suspecting that there’d been an ulterior motive for the sudden meeting, you exhaled, “okay, shoot.”

“Plum, you’ve been back for, what, two months now? And, well, me and Tommy,” a breath paused her sentence before she continued, “we’re really worried about you,” but you didn’t offer her an answer as you simply averted your gaze with a quiet sigh, “I think it would really help if you talked to someone.”

“Maria,” you noticed how tense your body had grown and deliberately attempted to make the sore muscles relax and let go, “I can’t talk to you guys about it. I just can’t.”

“Well, maybe you need it to be someone else then. A neutral third party. You know how it can sometimes be easier to tell all of your deep dark secrets to a complete stranger, like a bartender for example, and not to your very best friend?”

“What are you doing here?” you blinked, as the figure knocking at your door turned out to be none other than Joel.

“Maria sent me.”

“Of course, she did…” you sighed as you swiftly stepped aside for him to enter the house that had only been yours for a little while now.

“She was worried that you’re not eating,” he held up a small container of food for you to see, then sat it down on the dining table directly to the right of the entryway.

Closing the door after him, you then leaned against the wall, “well, I’m not hungry.”

Glancing up at you, he exhaled, “right,” then moved towards the exit again.

Anxiously crossing your arms, you spoke up as he passed you, “hey Joel?”

“Yeah?” he stopped in his tracks, trying to catch your skittish eyes.

“Can I–…” you tried, but then promptly remembered how you had yelled at him the last time you’d interacted with each other, and even though he always seemed to see right through it, always responded to it with that usual unwavering presence, you still couldn’t help but shrivel up and say, “no, forget it, it’s not important…”

“What is it?”

“No, it’s fine,” you stared down at the swirling woodgrain on the floors and waved a hand, “you go…”

Not moving his body an inch, he spoke, “Y/n,” and made you meet his gaze.

“I just–…” you breathed deeply, “Maria told me to talk to someone and she had this idea that it might be easier if it was with someone that I didn’t really know…”

“Okay,” he nodded gently, as if you were a baby bird he didn’t want to spook away.

Feeling your heart nearly beat out of your chest, you struggled, “can I talk to you? Can I–… can I try? Try to tell you?”

“Sure,” he answered swiftly, not needing a single second to ponder it, “but are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable with Tommy or someone else?”

“Tommy still sees me as that little girl I was back when I first met him, and I don’t wanna take that away from him. I don’t wanna ruin that any more than I already have. I don’t care if your view of me changes after you hear, because you didn’t know me before. I don’t mind if you look at me as if I’m broken,” the pained exhale that then flowed out past his lips was so faint that you almost missed it entirely, “also, the thought of telling any of them exactly what happened just makes it seem so much more real, and I don’t think I could handle that…” just the thought caused fearful tears to trickle down your cheeks, “to be honest, I can barely handle it now… and you obviously don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, I would never force you to do anything,” you squeezed your eyes shut and rambled anxiously, “and it’s not like I’ve been abundantly nice to you lately, or really since we met, but I swear it had nothing to do with you, I just–”

“Y/n,” he cut you off, breathing as if he was trying to do it for the both of you, “I know, it’s fine. I don’t mind you using me as a punching bag. Rather me than someone who could potentially misinterpret it, although, with the way everyone here walks on eggshells around you, I don’t think they’d take your swings personally. So, if you want me to listen, then I’ll listen.”

“Right…”

You would surely break the skin if you kept on digging your nails into your palms as hard as you’d unconsciously been doing. Slowly moving towards the dining area, you both sat down at the table. For a long moment, you just sat there, quietly losing your mind while he patiently waited.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you uttered into your palms as you hid behind them, “I don’t know where to start.”

“Just whatever comes to you first, it doesn’t have to be in order, doesn’t have to be everything now, just start somewhere and then go from there. You can just pretend I’m not even here if that helps.”

“Okay…” you choked out a small sob, then timidly began, “they–… they had this room down in the basement… there weren’t any windows, no light of any kind, so you couldn’t really tell if it was day or night or if you were down there for 1 hour or 24. They–, uhm, didn’t wanna grow bored of me, so that’s where they’d put me in order to keep me out of sight, keep me interesting for them. They always had me restrained in one way or another, kept weapons on me to get me to behave or even occasionally drugged me, although they saved that up for the most important people there… it wasn’t even the kind of drugs that made me forget, it just felt like they threw me right back in that dark hole again and I just couldn’t do anything. I could still feel every single thing, but I couldn’t even blink.”

“I don’t really know when exactly it was, but I think it was during my first winter there that I–… it was inevitable for it to happen at some point… and they didn’t wanna try and perform an abortion, didn’t have the right equipment or the skills for it, so they just let nature run its course. And then when it happened they–…” your voice broke as you then uttered through your sobs, “you know, I didn’t even get to hold her…” silently hating yourself as you then actually admitted out loud, “and a part of me wished so hard for me to have just died during the delivery. For a while I let myself think that I’d finally found a way out. That I would finally be free. That my little girl would help me end it all… and for the longest time, I couldn’t let myself love her, because that’s not how it’s supposed to be. That’s not how you’re supposed to make a new life. It shouldn’t be a consequence of being a slave, of being raped and tortured. She was a consequence. She was a consequence, but I still grew to love her. I didn’t want her, but I still loved her… and they slaughtered her in front of me like a fucking stock animal.”

“Y/n?” you suddenly heard from over your shoulder, effectively ripping you out of your trance-like state as the fresh memories of the nauseating dream you’d woken from still flooded your being, the cold sweat still dripping down your spine.

Whipping your head around, you glanced up at the man standing in the doorway and breathed, “I’m sorry,” your arms still tightly wrapped around your knees as you sat upon the cold steps of Joel’s front porch.

Stepping out onto the moonlit deck, Joel exhaled slowly, “how long have you been sitting out here?” and slowly planted himself in one of the weathered chairs.

“I don’t know,” you uttered wearily, your eyes returning to the cluster of bushes off in the distance, “I just woke up from this nightmare and then I remembered that you–”

“That I told you to come here instead of just being alone with it,” he finished for you.

“Yeah…”

After a moment, his low gravelly voice found your ears once more, “why didn’t you come in?”

With the cold wind still tickling your face and reminding you to breathe, you answered, “I–, uhm… I don’t know…”

Your shaky legs were the ones that had prevented you from going any further and forced you to essentially curl up into a ball as soon as you had reached the small splintery steps.

“Okay,” he murmured simply.

Glancing back at him in the chair, his eyes intently glued on his interlocked fingers, you caught sight of the instrument still propped up beside him.

“Hey, Joel?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you–…” but the rest of your sentence fell short.

“What?” he asked softly, then pressed further when you kept your mouth shut, “what is it?”

With a sharp inhale, you pushed enough of your nerve-wracking thoughts aside to ask, “would you play me something?” your eyes nowhere near his as the words left your lips.

“Oh,” his brows lifted in gentle surprise as he glanced down at the guitar, “sure,” then picked it up, “anything specific you had in mind?”

“No, just something, anything.”

“Okay,” he breathed, letting his long fingers ghost over the strings as he pondered the possibilities, “uh, alright,” and with a small nod he began to play, gently strumming out a soft song reminiscent of a lullaby.

The melody at first washed over your body like a warm sip of tea, but after a bit, the feeling changed as you felt him not only pluck at the strings of the instrument, but also the ones on your heart, unexpectedly bringing tears to your already bloodshot eyes.

“Thank you,” your shaky voice interrupted his midnight performance.

“It’s just a song.”

“No, Joel,” you clarified as the sight of your tears made him set the guitar back down, “thank you for everything.”

“Y/n,” he sighed almost painfully, “you really don’t have to thank me.”

“But I want to,” you spoke determinedly, briefly raising a hand up to wipe your wet cheek, “I–,” you let out a heavy exhale, “I am both incredibly grateful and also so, so sorry that you had to hear all of that, that you’re helping me the way that you are…”

Studying your expression a moment longer, he then uttered, “do you not want me to help you or do you just not want anyone to help you?” his earnest observation hit you like a ton of bricks, “plum, you of all people deserve help. I truly feel like I’m not doing enough, I barely do anything at all,” catching your eye, he then added assuringly, “and you did not force or trick me into this, so please stop looking at me as if you did.”

“Well, hello,” the greeting bubbled out of you as you spotted Joel walking past your front porch, “funny seeing you here.”

Stopping in his tracks, he glanced up and spotted you leaning against the railing with a breezy smile upon your face, “hi.”

Squinting your eyes at him for a second, you spoke, “I know why I’m not at the party, but why aren’t you?” the faint bustle of the gathering still softly echoed from a distance.

“I actually just came from there,” he tugged his hands into his pockets, his warm breath clear in the night air, “just on my way back.”

“Already? Damn, you must be a lot older than Tommy told me,” you teased, suddenly feeling the veranda sway slightly beneath your feet, making your fingers tighten their grip on the railing, “bailing on a party after only an hour.”

Furrowing his brows in your direction, he then asked, “Y/n, are you drunk?”

“No,” but your light-hearted lie wasn’t convincing at all so you followed it up with, “okay, yeah, I might be a little buzzed.”

“Right,” he chuckled and twisted to return to his journey home, “just don’t stay out here in the cold too long.”

“Why?” you scoffed through your giggle, halting his footsteps yet again.

“Just because the alcohol feels like it’s warming you up, doesn’t mean you won’t get hypothermia. Especially dressed like that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” waving a hand in his direction, you fibbed, “I’ll go back inside in a bit.”

“Just put on a jacket at least.”

“Nice trick, mister,” you chuckled, “but I’m not going back inside after my jacket. I know you,” one of your fingers pointed accusingly at him as he suddenly abandoned his original destination and walked up your steps, “you’ll just barricade the door or something as soon as I’m inside,” though when you saw him shrug his own thick coat off and drape it over your frame, your jovial smile fell from you joking lips, “oh, I wasn’t trying to–”

“Just shut up and take it,” he quietly cut off your protest, then rested his forearms against the railing and stared out onto the dim town beyond.

Blinking over at him for a second, you eventually gave in and accepting the warm layer, “…thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Slotting in beside him, your eyes soon drifted up to look at the night sky, absentmindedly uttering, “you know, my grandma knew the names of all the different constatations in the sky, told me all about them when I came over as a kid, but somehow, I still only remember the name of big dipper. I mean, I know them, I know every single one of them, just not the names anymore. Funny how things just slip away like that. No matter how hard you fight to remember, it all just ends up being like a dream,” you then dropped your vision to find Joel already looking at you.

Maybe it was the alcohol at work or maybe it was the months of confusing feelings finally colliding, but the next thing you knew you had leaned in and pressed your lips against his. With the whole world spinning, you felt one of his hands instinctually find purchases on your waist and the other on your cool cheek. But just as quickly as it had happened, that’s how abruptly it ended when Joel suddenly took a tense step back, his fingers still lingering a second longer as you blinked up at him in dazed amazement.

“Plum, I–…” he didn’t move an inch as you briefly saw a look of genuine fear wash over his severe features, “you should probably head off to bed.”

“What?” you sounded down right out of breath.

Keeping his eyes averted, he dodged, “drink some water, maybe eat a bit so that you don’t feel as bad tomorrow,” and slowly backed away, recoiling as if he had just broken a priceless vase.

Too stunned to run after him and still enveloped in his jacket, you shouted, “Joel!” watching from the porch as he disappeared.

“About the other night…” you spoke when finally, after days of trying, you caught Joel before he could slip away again.

Not letting you finish your thought, he breathed, “you were drunk,” and kept his eyes glued to the floorboard below.

“I wasn’t that drunk,” you uttered softly, staring at his tense form.

“I’m sorry,” his head shook lightly. The mental whip he lashed across his own back was so clear that you could nearly make it out yourself.

“For what?”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you like that,” his eyes squeezed shut as his face crinkled up in regret, “I shouldn’t have kissed you at all.”

“You kissed me?” your eyebrows shot up, “Joel, I was the one kissing you.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, keeping his eyes closed as his head gently swayed from side to side.

“Joel,” your soft voice tried to penetrate his shield as you took a step closer to him, “Joel… please, look at me…”

Face twitching like a scared little boy, his eyes finally fluttered open, brows twisting up in heartbreak as he noticed the earnest way you were gazing up at him.

It didn’t take more than a heavy shared breath for you both to wordlessly understand.

“I’m too old for you,” he murmured.

“No, you’re not,” you stated gently, taking another step towards him.

“Y/n, you don’t really like me like that,” he tried, “not really,” though his feet still didn’t move to get away.

“Just shut up. Stop making up dumb excuses. Just be honest with me, only push me away if you really don’t want this.”

“What I want is not important…”

“That’s not true… Joel, you are probably the only man in the world that doesn’t scare me. And I didn’t really get why that was earlier, because it didn’t make sense at all, but I do now. I get it now. I didn’t want it to happen, and I don’t know when it did, but Joel, I like you,” you heard your voice break as tears began to blur your vision, “and maybe I’m wrong, maybe I’m just completely blind to all of that now, but it just seemed like you liked me back…”

“Y/n…”

“But if don’t, then I’d really appreciate it if you’d just come right out and say it so that I can just leave you alone and let you forget that any of this ever happened.”

“Plum…”

“Please just tell me…” you begged, feeling his trembling breath hit your skin, “just say that you don’t like me…”

“I can’t…” he breathed, his brown eyes flickering over your face, “you deserve so much better.”

“I know,” tears finally breached and rolled down your cheeks, “so let me have something better. Show me what I deserve.”

“Wow,” Joel giggled as you unexpectedly used all of your strength to yank him inside, “hi.”

Your lips didn’t waste any more time, immediately latching onto his and needily kissing him as you kicked the door shut behind you, “I’ve missed you.”

“Plum, it’s only been a few days,” he chuckled against your peck.

“Yeah, well I still missed you,” then added as your fingers tangled in the buttons of his dark green flannel, “a lot.”

“Oh, yeah?” he hummed as you backed him up towards the couch.

“Yeah,” you beamed in between kisses, “I really wish I could go on patrol with you, be out there just the two of us, but Maria still doesn’t think I’m ready,” you then grumbled pettily, “which is complete fucking bull shit.”

“You will get there, just be patient,” the back of his legs hit the sofa and your grasp on his broad shoulders guided him the rest of the way down.

“And what if I don’t wanna be patient, huh?” you smirked, straddling his lap and capturing his lips in another ravenous kiss.

After nearly ripping the last of his buttons clean off, you parted just long enough for you to lift your warm sweater over your head. Your fingers swiftly seized the hem of your t-shirt, the last remaining layer that remained before your bare boobs sprung free inches away from his face.

Snatching your hands before you got the chance to shred any more clothing, Joel caught your dilated pupils and checked, “you sure?”

“Please Joel, I want this,” you begged, practically on the brink of tears. Still noting the hesitation in his eye, you wiggled a hand free, placed it on his bearded jaw and told him, “I am not gonna break. You won’t break me,” feeling his hold still not yield, you breathed, “please, I want this so bad, I want you, I wanna feel you, I wanna feel all of you.”

Searching your eyes, his form then slowly relaxed beneath you and the elated giggle that bubbled out of your throat as you noticed caused a smile to bloom on his stern features as well.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” you uttered adoringly.

Tightening his grasp on the edge of your shirt, Joel slowly lifted it up, his large palms swiftly smoothing down your wild hair as the cotton neckline messed it up.

“I missed you too,” his breathy tone made it difficult for you to stay back and let him get a good look at you, as the urge to have his lips again seemed absolutely excruciating. Feeling his fingers drift down from your head to where his eyes were glued to, your hips instinctually rolled down against his thighs as he uttered, “you are so beautiful,” sounding nearly hypnotised as the soft light glowing from the window behind you cast a halo of light around your perched form.

Curling an arm around your waist, his hand stretched down and breached the waistband of your jeans, promptly using the hold to yank you even closer towards him, a move that made you lose your breath.

You couldn’t hold back the desperate whine that flowed out as you felt his prevalent tent poke against your throbbing core.

“Fuck, Joel,” you shuttered as he grabbed the nape of your neck to guide you back for another taste.

Tongues danced against each other, moans were exchanged like the breath you shared and both of your wandering hands weren’t shy to explore the other’s body as you feverishly rocked down against him.

Although as one of his hands let go of the toe-curling hold it had on the left of your pebbly nipples to slide up towards your face, it never fully arrived at the assumed destination as his fingers unexpectedly enclosed around your throat. His hold was gentle, simply resting there in an effort to keep you close, but unfortunately, that wasn’t how your body understood it.

Freezing up at once, your breath got caught in your throat as tears instantly welled up in your eyes. Your whole body started shaking as your heart-breaking voice burst through your partner’s haze.

“Joel.”

Snapping out of the ecstasy at once, he reeled back and took in how quickly your whole world had flipped upside down.

Hearing him suck in a breath that never truly flowed out again, he swiftly grabbed his shredded flannel, balled up beside him, and draped it over your trembling shoulders, though his fingers just hovering as he did so, being too scared to truly touch you again.

Your hands were still frozen, mid-air, right in front of your body as you wept, “I-I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no, I’m sorry. I’m–, fuck, I’m so sorry, plum.”

As excruciating memories flared up throughout your traumatized form and lit it ablaze, you still kept on blubbering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I want this, I really, really want this,” your jaw clenched in fury as you felt your body betray you, “you gotta believe me, I wanna–, I–…” your plea got snuffed out as your sobs took over and you jaggedly sunk down and buried your face in his chest, your fingers eventually gaining enough strength to clutch against his warm frame for an ounce of support.

“I know you do, I know…”

An immediate cry burst free as you jolted awake.

Panting, your body blurred the line between reality and dream as you slowly sat up in bed. Feeling the mattress dip beside you, a groggy hand brushed against your thigh, which you instinctually shifted away from, clutching both your knees to your chest as tears dripped from your chin down onto the duvet below. Hearing a soft groan as the man beside you awoke, it didn’t take long before your sobs pierced his peaceful rest.

“Y/n?” you felt Joel sit up beside you.

“I–,” you gasped for air, “I can’t breathe.”

“Okay, alright,” you shakily turned your head to look at him, “just, uhm, look at me, focus on me,” he haphazardly thought of a way to help, “you’re right here, you’re in Jackson, you’re safe,” he abstained the urge to reach out and touch you, almost as if it could burn him, or maybe more correctly, that he could burn you.

Trembling, your hand found his, vibrating against it for but a moment before he enveloped his long fingers around it, his shoulders relaxing slightly at the gesture. Your chaotic eyes flickered down towards his chest for guidance, as your laboured breathing still survived on short little puffs that were beginning to make you feel as if you’d faint.

Noticing, Joel raised your clasped hands up and pressed them against his chest, letting your palm feel how it rose and fell beneath his worn t-shirt. Gradually, as the soft thumping of his heart tickled your hand and accompanied the intakes of air, you regained more control and your own lungs began to return to a more normal pace. Eventually, your desperate sobs turned into just a gentle trickle of tears till they too began to run out.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” you uttered, absolutely exhausted from that start to your day.

“It’s fine,” his thumb brushed over the back of your hand, then after a moment asked you softly, “are you okay?”

“I–, u-uh,” a shiver ran down your spine, “I don’t know…”

“Okay,” Joel nodded simply, letting your enveloped hands drift down from the guiding touch against his chest.

Glancing wearily out the nearby window, you uttered absentmindedly, “it’s not light out yet…”

“No, it is not,” he agreed softly.

Having no clue how many hours were left of the eerie night, you spoke, “you should go back to sleep, you can probably still get enough rest to somewhat resemble a human tomorrow.”

“Do you wanna go back to sleep?”

“No,” your answer came out instantly, the shadowy moonlight keeping the memories of the nightmare alive and preventing you from shaking it completely, “I don’t–, I–… no.”

“Okay,” his voice again was as soft as the duvet that enveloped you, “what do you need right now? What could help?”

“I don’t know…” your lip quivered as tears welled up in your eyes once more, “I just want it to be day again. You know, things are always a bit better when the sun is out… maybe that’s silly, but it just feels like it. Things kinda loosen their grip on you easier when you’re not drowning in darkness…”

“So, then we’ll wait,” he shifted his fingers to improve his grip on your hand.

“Oh, you don’t have to wait with me, it’s okay, I’m okay now that I’m awake–” you attempted, but with little success as he interrupted your fib.

“We will wait,” his eyes found yours in the darkness.

“…okay,” you exhaled, your shoulders relaxing a bit.

And there you remained for who knows how long, watching together from the warm bed as the dark skies out the nearby window gradually lightened, soon presenting clouds in shades of rose and lavender and the sun eventually cresting from beyond the adjacent mountains.

“Like that?” you asked as you tried to press upon the instrument’s strings in the same way that Joel had just shown you.

“Close,” sitting behind you, he watched your attempt over your shoulder, “like this,” with his arms already wrapped around your form, he readjusted your fingers for the pointer to stretch to an even higher spot on the neck of the guitar, pressing his own callused fingertip over yours to help you hold the stiff string down.

“Joel,” you whined softly as your hand could barely spread out that far, nor press down hard enough to make the correct sound when moulded in that manner, “I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can,” you felt the scratch of his bearded cheek against yours as you let the grip go.

“My hands aren’t big enough to do complicated chords like that.”

“Well, it’s actually a fairly basic one–”

“Oh, shut up,” you chuckled, turning your head to gaze into his warm eyes, your vision briefly flickering down to his smiling lips as you purred, “you would say that with fingers like yours…”

Capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, you let go of the guitar completely, leaving it in Joel’s hands alone as you craned your body, and your fingers found his face.

Still feeling his gentle pecks linger upon your smile, you uttered, “I don’t think I’m gonna be the next–, uh… you know what, I don’t really remember the names of any famous guitarists right now, but you get the picture.”

“You just need to practice, that’s all.”

Pursing your lips in an effort to hide your smile, “or maybe I should just go back to just watching you play.”

“You’re giving up already?” he asked playfully.

“What? It was a sweet gesture to teach me, really, but I unfortunately just don’t think I have the right anatomy for it,” you wiggled one of your comparatively small hands in front of his face before he leaned forward, attacking the palm with his tender lips.

“But do you really have to go?” you whined into his chest, your arms only tightening around his form, “I’m sure Eugene would fill in for you or–, uhm, Jesse! He’s all young and eager to be out there.”

“You’re killing me, you know that, right?” he chuckled, tilting your chin up to catch your eye.

You were officially on the verge of marching over to Maria, once more, to ask if you could go out again. You both craved the morbid normality of going on patrols, loathing so deeply the way everyone in the town treated you as if you were made of fragile porcelain, the infected out there would never change no matter how much you did, and that fact was weirdly comforting to you. But it was also, deep down, because you hadn’t left Joel’s side for weeks now and the thought of being alone again, of going back to that house that you hadn’t even slept in for who knows how long, the thought of him maybe not returning, those too clouded your mind and caused your arms around his body to cling on even tighter.

“Stay here with me where it’s warm and there aren’t any infected and where you can enjoy much, much better company than Tommy. I’m sorry, I love the guy, but it’s true,” you jested, “I am way more fun than him.”

“Yeah, you wanna tell him all of that when he comes a-knocking in a bit looking for me? Let him find out that you’re the reason I’m not doing my job?”

Slowly unravelling your arms, you took a step back and inspected his cautious expression.

“Joel, are you–… are you scared of your brother finding out about us?”

“I don’t know if I’d call it that,” he apprehensively tried, “I just–”

“What?” you severed the remnants of your clinging hug, “are you ashamed of me or something?”

“No! Oh my god, no!” he rushed out immediately, his coffee eyes growing wide, “Y/n, I am not ashamed of you in any way, please believe that,” his words dripped with desperation.

“Alright,” you breathed, though your brows didn’t unfurrow in the slightest, “but then why do you wanna keep us a secret?”

“I don’t wanna keep us a secret, I just–…” he averted his gaze and uttered, “they trusted me to help you, you trusted me enough to let me in and then I–…”

“Then I kissed you. I was the one taking that step. Do you really think your brother would believe that you took advantage of me?”

“Plum, I know what you mean to him.”

“Even so, you really think he’d believe that? That he would think you would ever do something like that to a person?”

Exhaling slowly, “I don’t know… He’s known me all his life. Seen every side of me, good and bad. I don’t know if he’d believe that, but I know I would if I was in his shoes.”

Staring down at your feet, you gnawed your bottom lip and eventually spoke, “when will you get back?”

“Maybe tomorrow or the day after that.”

Slowly lifting your eyes up to meet his, you nodded simply “okay,” though didn’t move to offer him another warm farewell.

Picking up his backpack that waited by the front door, his fingers stopped right before turning the handle and glanced back at you, “you know,” his fingers that weren’t clutching the door fidgeted apprehensively at his side, “you can stay here while I’m gone,” your shoulders relaxed as he essentially read your mind, “if you want. If that could somehow make things easier–”

But he didn’t get to finish his kind offer as you marched over towards him and snatched his head down for a kiss.

“Be safe,” you rested your forehead against his for a moment as you felt his warm palm slide over your waist, accompanying the relieved sigh that flowed out of him.

“You too,” he breathed in your scent a second longer before he slipped out of your grasp and exited the home, not daring, even once, to look back at your form through the small window adorning the door.

“Hey plum?” you heard the front door creak open, “you in here?”

Groggily, you answered, “Joel?” laying on the couch, you turned your head to spot the figure soon appearing in the doorway.

Slowing down to a stop as he crossed the threshold into the living room, he smiled at the seemingly just lazy nap he had interrupted, “heya sleepyhead.”

“How did you know I was still here?” you weakly raised yourself up onto your elbows, the room still spinning just as much as it had this morning.

“I didn’t,” he came to sit by your blanket-covered feet, “but I thought it was a safe bet since you weren’t at home. I actually found something out there that–, hey,” he finally noticed how pale your face was, “are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a little sick,” you shrugged.

With your calm demeanour not rubbing off on him, he asked, “you wanna go down to the clinic?” lifting his palm up to gently touch your warm forehead.

“Joel,” you grabbed his hand softly, “I’m fine, it’s just a fever. Now, what did you find?”

Eyes still brimming with worry, he kept his one hand in yours while the other unzipped the backpack leaning up against his feet, “we came across this bookstore when we were moving through an area yesterday, and I just so happen to find this,” he produced a thick copy of a book with a very familiar faded blue font.

“No way,” you snatched it up and inspected it to make sure it actually was the sequel you thought it was, “no fucking way!”

“I remembered how pissed you were at the first one’s cliff-hanger, so I just thought–”

“Joel,” blinked up at him in amazement.

“You like it?”

“Are you kidding me?” you giggled, throwing your arms around him, “I love it, I love–, I love it, thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome, it would’ve been a travesty if you never found out if they managed to get the–, uhm, sword?”

“Axe, it’s a magical axe.”

“Right,” he chuckled as you leaned back against the armrest and cracked the novel open, “hey,” your eyes flicked up to meet his again, “you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, “but you know what would make me feel even better?”

“What?” he chuckled at the sly grin that bloomed upon your lips.

“If you read me the first few chapters.”

Plucking your feet up for them to rest upon his thighs as he scooted closer, “alright. One chapter and then you try and get some more rest, okay?” he reached out for you to hand him the book.

You had no idea when the lazy morning kisses had turned into something more, something that both felt like falling asleep, but also like you were overflowing with a sudden energy as fire spread throughout your body.

Completely lost in the moment, sprawled out on top of Joel’s form, completely pressed against him as your tongue danced softly against his own, it was first when you picked up on the muffled sighs coming from your partner that you noticed the way your hips needily rocked against his own. When they had decided to seek out what they craved, you didn’t know, but you weren’t gonna stop them now, you couldn’t, it simply felt too incredible.

“Plum,” Joel groaned, though you just hummed in return as your lips wandered over his stubbly jaw, “fuck, just–,” with an arm still around your form, resting on top of his, he gently rotated your bodies, causing you to plop down on the mattress next to him, “hi, good morning,” he painstakingly reeled his head back from yours.

Curling your leg back up over his hip, you purred back, “it really is a good morning, isn’t it?” the tent in his boxers nudging against your throbbing core as you nuzzled back into him, your eyelids fluttering at the sensation.

“Maybe it’s about time we–, uh-uhm, get up?” he sucked in a deep breath, obviously attempting to simmer down the result of your escalated tender beginning to the day.

“Nah, I’d much rather stay here with you a little longer,” you breathed, “wouldn’t you?” batting your eyelashes up at him.

“I–, fuck, of course, but–”

“But what?” your fingers slid across his cheek, weaving them through his short beard.

“Don’t you think we should stop before something happens?”

“We could,” you tried your best to keep the traumatic door he was scratching at closed, “but I’m just letting you know that if you get up now, I’ll just take matters into my own hands… do you really wanna get up and leave when you know I’ll be right here thinking about you?”

“I just don’t want you to–”

“Me neither,” you shook your head quickly as you cut his worry short, “please, Joel,” your words dripped with desperation as you grabbed his wrist and pulled it down between your bodies, “I’m so fucking wet right now,” you cupped his palm against the soaked cotton between your thighs, “it would be so mean to just leave me like this.”

Listening as his breathing grew weightier, his eyes fluttered a moment as he thought it over, hand not moving an inch, “you sure?”

“I promise I will tell you if it changes,” you swore, feeling like a wildfire was tearing through your body, then let out a whimper as you felt his hand slowly withdraw, “please.”

Staring directly into your soul, he nodded softly, “okay.”

“Okay?” you asked, still dumbfoundedly clawing at his retracting hand.

“Okay, go ahead,” he clarified, caressing your confused fingers a moment before tangling his own with them, “I’m not gonna stop you from making yourself feel good.”

Letting out a jagged exhale as a soft smile bloomed on your lips, you tilted your chin up and crashed your lips into his, your relieved giggle vibrating into the kiss.

Dipping your fingers below your waistband, even just the lightest touch against your buzzing clit had you letting out a deliciously desperate sound that made you break from his adoring lips. Feeling them linger on your face a moment longer, softly pecking your flushed cheek and the tip of your nose, he then pulled back a bit, his free hand sliding up to the side of your features as he gazed lovingly at your blissful expression.

Feeling the hand clutching yours not let go as you had assumed it would, on the contrary, you felt it tighten its grip and squeeze yours encouragingly as the sloppy sounds emanating from between your legs filled the bedroom, “are you gonna join me?”

“No,” his genuine smile smooshed lightly against the pillow beneath his face as his thumb caressed your cheekbone softly, “I’m good right here.”

“But–”

“Trust me, I’ll be fine, this is all I want, all I need, just seeing you touch yourself like this right in front of me, watching you give yourself exactly the kind of pleasure you want, hearing those beautiful sounds you make, fuck…” he said, giving you all of the control, “yeah, I’m good.”

Staring back into his kind eyes in amazement, you breathed out just the remnants of a smile and uttered, “okay.”

“Just do what feels good, plum,” he encouraged, sharing your breath as you kept up the tight circles you drew over your puffy little pearl, “what you like,” he broke the intense eye contact and rested his forehead against your own, “what you need.”

His deep voice made your eyes flutter. The heated morning make-out session had worked you up so much that you barely needed anything more in order to reach that sought-after high. If he hadn’t stopped you before, if it had just lasted a minute longer you would have probably cum right there, rubbing yourself against his strong thigh. So, the addition of his words was almost too much to bear.

Lifting your entangled hands up towards his lips, he kissed your knuckles gently, tilting his head back to admire your electric expression, how your brows knitted together and your mouth hung agape.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he uttered as your moans gradually grew louder and you found yourself tumbling over the edge before you even realised you’d reached it.

After your legs had relaxed from their light flailing and your breath began to come in more gently, completely dazed, you stared up at Joel as he soon asked you carefully, “are you okay?”

“Holy shit…” you breathed as you sluggishly slipped your wet fingers back out of your underwear.

With his large hand still on the side of your face, he searched your fuzzy eyes, “plum? Are you–”

“Y-yeah, fuck,” you tightened your hand in his and lulled forward, resting your forehead against his once again, “I’m–, yeah… I’m good…”

“Hey, are you okay?” Joel asked as he felt your body suddenly stiffen up in his lap.

“I–…” you exhaled slowly, focusing your jittery vision on his warm eyes, “this just got very real all of a sudden…”

“Yeah…” his wide palm moved gently over your bare back, his respectful gaze staying on your face and not drifting down to soak up the distracting vision of your collective nude forms moulded against each other, “do you wanna stop?”

“No,” you shook your head lightly.

“Do you wanna do something else? Because you know I’m fine, we don’t have to do this.”

“No, I really, really want to, I just–…” your eyes drifted down to stare at his shoulder while you spoke sincerely, “I wanna stay here with you and not have my mind wander off and get confused…”

“I want you to stay here too, more than anything,” his fingers tangled themselves in your hair, bringing your eyes back up to meet his, “what can I do? What can I do to help?”

“I don’t know…” you offered him a shy shrug, “I guess you could try and remind me? Help keep me focused on this, on you…”

“Okay,” he agreed softly, his thumb swiping over your flushed cheek, “well, you’re right here with me, there is no one else, just you and me, plum.”

“Yeah,” you exhaled, your shoulders relaxing under his comforting touch.

“And you know that I’ve got you, right? No matter what, no matter how, I’ve got you.”

Feeling a soft smile warm up your face, you echoed, “you’ve got me,” and absentmindedly rolled your hips once more against his own, rubbing your leaking cunt all over the underside of his length as it stood proud.

Leaning in to steal a chased kiss, you sneaked your hand down between your forms and ghosted your fingers over his girth. Joel sucked in a breath as you slowly gained more confidence, dancing your fingertips over his slick stained dick.

With a hand rooted on his chest as an anchor, you needily began to buck your hips against him, your weeping folds enveloping his cock as you rocked against him.

“Fuck,” Joel hissed in pleasure, his nose bumping lightly against your own as he commented on the slick sounds accompanying every desperate rock, “you’re so wet.”

Brows knitted together, you let your head drop down and hide in the crook of his neck. Your whimpers vibrated against his skin and as you felt the fire inside of you begin to grow out of control, so did the confession that irrepressibly flowed from your blissful lips.

“I love you.”

You instantly froze up, feeling your swollen clit throb against his hard cock.

“Oh my god…” he breathed, sounding utterly amazed.

“I–…” you continued to hide, “oh god, I’m sorry… I–, I’m sorry…”

“No, hey, hey,” his hands found your neck and gently pulled you back, “why are you sorry, huh?” he searched your averted gaze.

“I didn’t mean to say that.”

“You didn’t mean it?”

“No, I just didn’t mean to blurt it out like that!” completely mortified, you brought your hands up to shield your face.

“…so you–”

“I’m sorry, I just–”

“Plum,” you felt his thumbs swipe over the backs of your hands, begging them to reveal your face to him, “please stop apologizing for telling me the best thing you could ever say,” holding your breath, you slowly let your fingers fall down. Sucking in a gasp of air, he gazed into your nervous eyes and uttered earnestly, “I love you too.”

Feeling lightheaded, you breathed, “what?”

“I love you,” he repeated with a small chuckle as the words sank in.

“You–… you do?”

“Yeah, of course I do, I mean, how could I not–,” but he didn’t get to gush any further as you feverishly grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss, an amazed giggle soon interrupting from your adoring lips.

“I love you,” you smiled, planting a dozen pecks all over his face. His arms wrapped around your form and enveloped you in warmth as he contentedly rocked the both of you lightly in his embrace.

“I love you,” he beamed as you gently raised your hips up and grabbed his twitching length, aligning it with your entrance, “I lo–… love–… holy shit,” he cursed as you slowly sank down on his fat girth.

The sensation of him stretching you out had a confusing cocktail of emotions flooding your system. It both felt so beyond amazing because it was him, it was Joel, but it also had your body trembling with the assault of tainted memories.

Your wide eyes eventually locked on his as you stilled in his lap, letting the warmth of his kind eyes ground you as you breathed, sounding like you were sucking in your very first breath, “Joel,” your chest rose and fell rapidly as your vision washed over his face.

With one arm staying safely around your torso, the other hand drifted up to the side of your head, “yeah, it’s me, it’s just me,” lovingly taming your wild hair as you steadied your fevered breath.

Feeling your body relax under his touch, your fluttering eyes darkened as you instinctively rolled your hips, “Joel,” watching his face contort beautifully as you grinded in his lap, letting his cock nuzzle in that much deeper.

“Yeah, that’s it,” the arm that was tangled around you snaked down so that the hand could supportively grip your backside, “keep saying my name, just like that,” you then desperately picked up the pace, moaning intoxicatedly at the sound of his deep voice, “it’s just me, I’ve got you.”

Half of the time when his name left your lips, the mantra sounded utterly incoherent as your moans drowned it out, leaving the whispered prayer completely unrecognizable.

Asking for permission with his gaze, he kept his eyes locked on yours as he lowered his head down enough to bury it in the swell of your tit, feeling his hot tongue swipe across your skin as his cock stretched you out so intoxicatingly.

With one hand firmly aiding your fevered pace, the other one stayed right where your bodies met, swirling your swollen clit with a firmness that made it difficult for you to keep your hazy eyes open.

“Joel,” you let him take over as you neared the end, surprising you with how effortlessly he bounced you in his lap, sloppy wet sounds filling the living room as your skin slapped against each other with every needy thrust, your juices undoubtedly dripping down onto the couch at this point. Whimpering as you clambered down around him, “Joel,” you nearly choked his dick to death as you came on his cock.

Your thighs trembled violently as he let out a string of beautifully lewd moans, holding you there and fucking your spasming pussy just a few more times before he pulled you back just enough for him to yank out his angry cock, pumping it quickly in his tight fist, his forearm flexing under the strain as hot ropes of cum spilt out and painted your heaving belly.

“Fuck,” he cursed, breathing heavy as he pulled you in to kiss your cheek. Draping both of his arms around you and holding you close, you felt his heartbeat thump against your chest as you slowly regained composure of your own ragged breathing, “you okay, Y/n?”

“I–… I think so…” you blinked back at him, completely starry-eyed, “oh my god, I love you…”

“I love you,” he couldn’t help the relieved, breathy chuckle that bubbled out of him, “fuck, I’m so proud of you. You–, you’re–…” his eyes flicked across your face, his brain visibly melting at the way you looked back at him right now, “christ, I love you…”

In the bustle of your soft giggling, Tommy, smile still plastered on his lips, asked you unexpectedly, “so, how long have you been seeing him?”

Nearly choking on your tea, you somehow managed to not spit out any of the hot liquid as you glared at him in shock, “I’m sorry, what?”

Taking a casual sip of his own mug, he said, “my brother,” gloating as he lowered it again, smugly staring down into the cup, “how long have you been keeping it a secret?”

“I–…” you blinked, stunned a moment by how he could have found out, “I haven’t been keeping it a secret, I just haven’t been advertising it…”

Raising his brown eyes up to look at you, he asked you sincerely, “you happy?”

“Yeah,” a soft smile bloomed on your lips as it was now your turn to stare down at the amber beverage sloshing around in your cup, “I think I am.”

“Good,” he nodded gently, “and just for the record, he might be my big brother, but if he ever tries anything, I will not hesitate.”

“What, are you gonna beat him up for me?” you chuckled.

“Maybe,” he drew out, your giggle causing him to smile, “or maybe I’ll rat him out to Maria and she’ll make sure he gets kicked out.”

“You’d kick your own brother out of Jackson?” your brows shot up in disbelief.

“If he ever hurts you, yeah,” he admitted, “I love him, but you’re my family too, and Jackson was your home way before it was his. You deserve dibs.”

“Hey, Eugene,” you greeted the scraggly man seemingly waiting outside of Maria’s office, “have you seen Joel? Did he come in with you?”

Eyes widening a moment at your sudden appearance, he straightened up and muttered, “I–, uh, I think he’s probably checking up on Ellie, so you should over go there.”

“Uhm, no, I actually just checked there, just in case. She said she saw him ride in this morning, but hadn’t heard from him since,” fear suddenly flooding your senses as you asked tensely, “is he okay? Did something happen? Is that why the shift took so long this time? Is he in the infirmary?”

“No, no,” he raised his inked hand up in reassurance, “plum, he’s fine, he’s probably just busy or something.”

Looking him up and down, your head tilted slightly as you noticed just how tense he was and how his waiting in front of the door almost looked like he was guarding it…

“Why are you acting so weird?”

“Me?” he forced a chuckle, “I’m not acting weird. Just go home. If I spot him, then I’ll send him your way, promise.”

“What’s going on in there?” you nodded to the heavy door, firmly blocked by his frame.

“Nothing’s going on,” he said a bit too quickly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then why are you guarding the door?”

“I’m not guarding the door.”

“Oh, yeah?” you squinted your eyes, huffing out a heated breath, “then let me in. Let me go talk to Maria.”

“Maria’s not in there right now.”

“Really? Then who is?” you asked, receiving nothing but silence, “let me in, Eugene.”

“Can’t do that, plum. Just do me a favour, go home, relax–”

“Don’t fucking tell me to relax,” you roared, ripping your arm away as he tried to reach out for you.

Searching his tense eyes, your racing mind came to a conclusion quicker than the last grain of sand rushing through an hourglass, irreversible as your fist then suddenly came down upon his temple, knocking him out cold.

As you creaked the door open, you heard Joel’s low timbre before you saw him, “I’m gonna ask you nicely one last time, where is your group? We know that you moved, so where to?”

Rounding the corner, your entire body froze in shock as you saw him kneeling in front of a bloodied man strapped to a chair, a man you never thought you’d see again.

“Fuck you, man,” the beaten guy spat, “I ain’t saying shit.”

A high-pitched, guttural wail erupted throughout the room as Joel twisted the knife logged in the man’s thigh, his body shaking against the tight binds at the excruciating pain.

“Plum,” Tommy, standing in the corner, gasped, though your eyes didn’t falter their intense stare, didn’t even blink, watching the familiar man cry out as the knife was yanked out.

Whirling around in horror, Joel straightened up as soon as he saw you, attempting to block the person from your view, “what are you–”

But your hand promptly shot out, successfully warning them to stop talking. With your cold glare still locked on the dazed man, his bruised eyes slowly blinking open to look back at you, a disgusting grin immediately blooming on his bloodied face.

“As I live and breathe,” he snarled, the thick blood in his throat gurgling his sentence, “the bitch is back…” he scanned you lewdly, swollen eyes panning over your petrified form, “gotta give it to you, slipping out from under our noses in the bustles of the move, that was pretty smart, though we all just assumed you’d been ripped to shreds by a hoard of infected, but I see now that you still can’t be killed. Resilient little cunt, this one is,” he clicked his tongue, “what, have you come back for more? Missed me that much?”

Slowly, your vision never wavering, you turned your palm up before your partner, finally peeling your eyes off the man for but a moment to shoot an icy glance at Joel, wordlessly asking him to give you the knife in his hand, still dripping with crimson.

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea–” the rest of Tommy’s timid words got crushed as you swiftly glared at him as if he was next.

Reluctantly, you eventually felt the weight of the weapon being placed in your open palm. With vile tickling the back of your throat, you slowly stepped closer to the restrained man, your jaw quivering as he continued to speak out of turn.

“Real shame that you never made it, never got to see Noah’s big plan in person,” it was such a short name, yet such a big wave that crashed into you, “he misses you, by the way,” the man glanced up at you through his stringy blonde hair, clinging to his forehead, the very tips stained red by the blood oozing from his various nasty wounds, “we all miss you…”

Your whole being felt completely numb, almost as if you were dreaming. Never letting your horrified glare falter, you lowered yourself down in front of him, getting on his level and crouching at his bound feet.

With the knife heavy in your hand, your fingers tightened around the handle as he dared to utter smugly, “yeah, that’s it,” he tried to spread his thighs apart, “you’ve missed your daddy, I can see it…”

Wordlessly, your face still akin to a statue, you grabbed onto two of his grimy fingers and swiftly bent them back forcefully enough for there to sound a nasty crack. The sharp cry he let out didn’t affect you in the slightest as you determinedly straightened the broken fingers back out. Notching the knife right beneath the knuckles, you looked him right in the eye and watched his face contort in agony as the sharp blade sliced clean through his digits, letting them roll onto the floor as he screamed.

Before he could catch his breath, you reached up and sliced one of his cauliflowered ears off, listlessly letting it tumble off and join the severed digits on the floor.

Unexpectedly, amidst all the grunts and groans, the vile man erupted in laughter, throwing his head back as the crimson spewed from his gashes, “that all you got? Come on,” he had the nerve to wink at you, “give me a little sugar, dolly.”

He didn’t deserve to just die. He didn’t deserve that mercy. He deserved to understand. To be broken by the severity of his actions. To live out the rest of his days in agony knowing that no matter what he did, he would never be able to pay for what he had done, simply live in the consequential void of despair.

The bridge of your nose twitched as the tip of the blade sank into his groin, stabbing him repeatedly till your fervent strikes grew sloppy, angling up to his abdomen, and you were out of breath, panting as you watched the life leave his eyes.

Still completely silent, you stayed there, staring at his lifeless expression, your shoulders heaving with every painful breath.

Sluggishly, you pulled the weapon out of where it was still lodged in the man’s lower stomach, shakily clutching it in your stained hand as you stood back up. Your knees nearly buckled from under you as you turned for the others to see your pale face, lumbering slowly towards the exit as if they weren’t even there at all.

As Joel carefully stepped closer to your slow-moving form, he didn’t get to try anything as you swiftly dropped the blood-soaked knife back into his grasp and continued your painful trek out the door, not glancing up at his horrified face for even a moment.

Breaking the deafening silence, Tommy warily said, “he never told us where they–”

Whirling around, the sharp slap that your numb palm planted across his cheek cut his sentence short, fury still alive in your cold eyes as you stared at your friend, struggling to comprehend that he had actually dared to pull something like this without your knowledge. That both of them had.

As you turned your back on them again, he cautiously continued to speak, “you could have just let us have two seconds with him, we’d still have let you finish him off, if that’s what you wanted to.”

Your voice was hoarse as you finally spoke again, “he would have never told you where they are,” facing the door, you revealed to them, “and besides that, you didn’t need him. I already know where they are.”

“You know?” Tommy gasped, his wide eyes glued on you in surprise, “this whole time you’ve known and haven’t told us?”

“It’s not like you ever asked me,” you uttered through your gritted teeth. Casting your piercing glare upon Joel, you said, “so I’m guessing this is why your patrol shifts suddenly got unusually long, am I right?”

Barely breathing at all, he answered hesitantly, “…yes.”

“And does Maria even know?”

“Not till a few hours ago,” Tommy huffed out a pained sigh.

“What the fuck were you thinking? How could you even consider that any of this was something that I’d want? Why on earth did you take it upon yourselves to go out and get revenge?” staring Joel down, you continued, “did you somehow think that it would–, what, improve my sleep at night or just your own? Were you gonna come home one day and just go congratulations, honey! They are all dead! Do you really think that would have helped me or are you truly just incapable of thinking with anything but your fists, getting your hands dirty because of something that has absolutely nothing to do with you?” he averted his gaze as you got up in his face, “I get that you’re invested, that you want them to pay, but this isn’t your choice to make,” your finger poked his chest harshly, “you don’t get to choose for me how or even if I want revenge. I get to choose that, me, not you,” you gave him a heated shove, completely numb to the tears that streamed down your cheeks and muffled your words. With your chest heaving, watching as he didn’t try to close the gap you had forced, you uttered, the exhaustion seeping through your sentence, “things were just starting to get better and then you go and drag me right back into it.”

With your vision still locked on Joel as he just stood there and took it all, Tommy’s voice piped up once more, “plum, just–”

Cutting him off, you set the record straight, “I’m not telling you.”

“But–”

“No,” you shot him a glare and repeated, “I’m not telling you where they are. This right here,” you motioned between the brothers and ordered, “it stops now. Whatever plan you’ve been cooking up, forget it.”

You lost count of how long, how many days, perhaps weeks, you locked yourself in your house.

The unanswered knocks Joel’s fist echoed on your front door soon evolved into him stubbornly planting himself out on your pouch each and every day.

It wasn’t till the day when someone came to supply you with some more food that you finally had to open the door and consequently be forced to face him once again.

“Plum–,” he sprung up from his seat on the wobbly bench as soon as you creaked the door open.

You tried not to look at him as you swiftly bent down to snatch up the tupperware.

“Go away,” you growled wearily.

But your attempt at slamming the door shut failed as Joel swiftly stuck his solid boot in to block it, “if you would please just let me explain–”

“No,” you finally glared up at him as he pushed himself inside, “just please stop,” briefly turning to set the food down, you then ripped the door back open as he tried to close it behind him, “I don’t wanna hear whatever excuse you have,” you held it open for him to leave, “nothing you can say will ever make me forgive what you’ve done. That’ll never happen,” you sucked in a sharp breath as you blinked back into Joel’s glossy gaze, “I–… I am so mad at you…” your gaze then fluttered shut as your breaths grew unsteady, “so mad that I could easily do some very well deserved, yet regrettable things to you… but I–…” tears rolled down your cheeks as your eyes flickered back open to catch his stare, “I love you,” the phrase caused a rift to crack in your hard shell, “I won’t forgive you, but I still love you.”

With a glint of hope twinkling in his eye, Joel took a step closer to you, though halted as you raised up a palm.

“But if you ever so much as think about doing something like that again, I’ll cut your fucking balls off.”

As he then seized the sides of your face, a wistful whimper fell from your lips. Moving slowly, ever so slowly, he simply stared back at you as he inched in closer.

As soon as he pressed a gentle kiss to your mouth, an entrapped cry forced its way out of your form and even though the sensation was one you longed for, one that already began to mend your festering wound, your palms still found his broad chest and showed him back.

“You should go,” you uttered, your gaze falling to the floor as your fingers fluttered up to ghost over the fading memory of his peck.

“Plum–”

Hoping that he hadn’t noticed the already packed rucksack leaning up against the nearby wall, you whispered, “please don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

But he still didn’t move to exit out the open door, only tilted his head with terrified recognition and breathed, “…no,” as the cold air blew in betwixt your frames, “sweetheart, please don’t do what think you’re doing.”

A low sigh flowed from you as you averted your gaze, incapable of denying his accusation, “Joel–”

“Take me with you,” he demanded, “I won’t just stand here and let the woman that I love go out on a suicide mission on your own.”

“I–, Joel…” you let out a wobbly whimper, “I don’t trust you enough right now to drag you along. I didn’t even wanna do this, it’s your fault, it was you who plunged me back into it, and now I–…” your words crumbled away as your stare faded out into nothingness, intentionally having to suck in a pained breath and fill up your lungs once more to you rip yourself out of the abyss, just enough to say, “I just want it all to stop…”

Taking a step closer to you, he uttered, “please,” and caught your palm, begging you to meet his gaze, “let me help you.”

As you stared back into his pleading eyes, you felt your ramped pulse begin to settle down, and not many moments managed to pass by before you opened your mouth once more, only needing the warm touch of his hand and the soothing presence of his gaze to flip your stubborn coin.

“…they call it Paradise, the place where they moved their group. It’s somewhere down in Arizona…”

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