#CRYING JUMPING PUNCHING THE WALL-

[youkaigakkou-tl]

Chapter 113 - Meiji Romance (Conclusion)

AAAAAA I was pogging out of my mind the entire time AAAAAA

We're "going back to being a comedy manga for a while" after this, or so sensei says..... we'll see how long that lasts.......

(Read it on mangadex)

(The chapter is 40 pages long, I'm not even going to try to fit the extra 10 pages into tumblr's 30 image limit, read it on mangadex)

[baeshijima]

i fucking hate this gane

throws up tears

[kaisollisto]

[whimsicalcotton]

i truly hope some of u have my textpost tag blocked or smthn. for ur own sake. i am sorry i talk so much

[pureleafy]

do not talk to me I just watched s1 e10 of buddy daddies

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Winter Soldier + Choking kink + Unprotected sex + His first orgasm in years, make it rough, violent, sexy. 🥰

thank you Shannon. 🫶🏻 you naughty beastie.

Caught Myself A Cute Little Doll » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Winter Soldier x Female Reader

Summary: The Winter Soldier caught himself a cute little doll.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, violence, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, unprotected sex, rough sex, metal arm kink, size kink, praise kink, hair pulling, choking, tit slapping, crying during sex, pet names

A/N: @katherineswritingsblog and I were talking about this and she dropped it in my ask box🥵❤️‍🔥 she also provided the gif for it🩷

A/N #2: I used Google translate for the Russian translations. I’m sorry if I got anything wrong.

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

You jumped on the Winter Soldier’s back and put him in a head lock. His metal arm reached back and easily threw you off of him. You groaned in pain when you hit the ground. You lifted your head to see him walking towards you with a knife in his right hand. You quickly got on your feet and got into your fighting position.

“You wanna fight dirty? We’ll fight dirty.” You said. “No weapons. We’re going to use our fists.” You tell him.

“You’re gonna wish you didn’t say that, кукла.” The Winter Soldier says, smirking behind his mask.

He put his knife back in the holster and got into fighting position. You threw the first punch, missing due to him dodging your punch. You threw another one, punching his mask and made it fall off of his face. You stared at him, admiring his features. You didn’t know the Winter Soldier was hot.

You were quickly snapped out of your thoughts when he punched you in the face. You hissed in pain and bent over, holding the part of your face he punched. Normally you can take a punch, but that one hurt like hell. A whimper left your lips when his hand grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked your head up.

“We’re not done yet, кукла.” He says.

He threw you back against the wall, making you fall to the floor. He walked over to you and bent down, wrapped his metal hand around your throat and pulled you up, pinning you against the wall. You waited for him to throw more punches, but he didn’t. The Winter Soldier couldn’t help but look at the way your mission suit looks like on your body, hugging your curves just right. He couldn’t help but wonder what you look like without it on. He went to unzip it, but you instinctively smacked his hand away.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” You asked.

The Winter Soldier didn’t listen. He unzipped your suit all the way, revealing your black lace bra and panties to him.

“Looks like I caught myself a cute little кукла.” He says with a smirk.

“I’m not your кукла.” You practically hissed.

“You will be by the time I’m done with you.” He says huskily.

He took your mission suit the rest of the way off, dropping it on the floor. He reached a hand behind your back, expertly unclamping your bra and letting it fall off of your chest. The Winter Soldier licked his lips at the sight of your bare breasts. He brought his right hand up to your breasts, rubbing his fingers against your skin before smacking one of your breasts to make it jiggle, making you hiss in pain and your eyes water. He did it again with your other one, making you hiss in pain again.

His right hand found its way to your panties, ripping them off and shoved the ruined material in the pocket of his tactical pants. His metal hand let go of your throat so he can unbutton and unzip his tactical pants. You took the opportunity to get your breathing under control due to how tight his metal hand was squeezing your throat.

You watched him pull his hard cock out of his boxers. His tip was leaking with precum. He’s big. The Winter Soldier’s hands got a good grip on your hips and picked you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He reached a hand down to stroke his cock a couple times before lining it at your tight entrance. He slid his cock inside of you without warning. He didn’t even let you adjust to his size. The stretch of his cock stung, but it also felt good.

You got a good grasp on his shoulders when he started thrusting at a fast pace. Your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth fell open. Your head felt back against the wall, enjoying the feeling of his cock inside of you. You could feel every vein and every inch of his cock.

While you were in your little world, the Winter Soldier was in his own. He can’t remember the last time he had sex. What he does know that it feels amazing. He sped up his thrusts, fucking you at a rough and violent pace. You already know that you’re going to be sore after this, but you couldn’t care less in the slightest about it.

He kissed along your shoulders and up to the side of your neck. You tilted your head to the side to give him more access. You moaned when his teeth bit your skin hard enough for a hickey, marking you as his.

Your nails dug into the material of his tactical vest the rougher he fucked you. His cock was hitting all of the right spots perfectly, making a pornographic moan leave your lips. The rougher his thrusts got, your eyes watered more. You didn’t even realize tears rolling down your cheeks. That urged the Winter Soldier on. The sight of you crying on his cock made him fuck you at a relentless pace. You quickly became a crying mess. That’s when the pleasure became unbearable. You weren’t sure how much you could take.

“Pl-Please slow down a little.” You pleaded, trying to reason with him.

“No.” Is all he said.

You whined. That earned you his metal hand around your throat again, giving it a squeeze.

“Quit fucking whining and take what I give you.” He practically growls.

You whimpered and nodded your head. His metal hand remained around your throat. He continued to fuck you violently. Your pussy clenched around his cock when he hit your sweet spot. A loud moan left your lips and your nails dug more in his tactical vest.

“Fuck…” He moans. “I should’ve just fucked you instead of fighting you.” He says, followed by a grunt.

“Why didn’t you?” You sassed.

“Don’t fucking sass me, little girl.” He growls. “Sass me again and I won’t let you cum.” He says.

You quickly dropped the sassy act. You should’ve known better than to sass him, but you did it anyway.

His right hand left your hip and found its way to your clit, blindly finding it. He found it with ease. His fingers applied pressure on your clit and began rubbing it. Your pussy clenched around his cock again.

“You’re so fucking wet for me.” He huskily says. “Did fighting me make your pussy wet?” He asks.

“Mhmm, yes!” You say more in a gasp.

The Winter Soldier chuckles to himself. He continues to rub your clit as he fucked you faster. Your legs began to shake against his waist. The pleasure became more unbearable than it was a moment ago. You weren’t sure how much longer you were going to last.

“I’m gonna cum!” You whimpered.

“Hold it.” He demands.

“But-” You shut your mouth when he gave you a warning look.

“I said hold it.” He repeats.

You whimpered, feeling your pussy become sensitive due to how rough he was fucking you and his fingers rubbing your clit. Your legs continued to tremble against his waist. Tears were streaming down your face at this point.

The Winter Soldier felt his cock twitch in your pussy, feeling his orgasm building up quickly. His first orgasm in years. His thrust became sloppy the closer he got to his orgasm. Before either of you knew it, he came inside of you, painting your walls white. A white ring of cum formed at the base of his cock.

“Cum.” He says, finally giving you permission.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and a loud moan left your lips when you came. You came so hard that you soaked the front of his tactical pants. He smacked your breasts a few times as he fucked you through your orgasm. His thrusts came to a halt. He slowly pulled his cock out of your pussy, making you whine at the loss of his cock inside of you.

He put you back on your feet. Your legs were so wobbly that you fell to the floor, leaning your back against the wall. You sat here panting and stared up at him, watching him put his cock back in his boxers and zip and button his tactical pants. He crouched down in front of you, his metal hand grasping your jaw. He kissed you roughly, making you moan against his lips. He pulled away from your lips and stood up, leaving without saying a word. You sat on the floor naked with his cum dripping out of your pussy as you caught your breath.

You finally stood up and put your bra and mission suit back on. You were left without panties due to the Winter Soldier ripping them off of you and putting them in his pocket. You walked out of the room, making your way outside of the building.

The Winter Soldier watched you from a distance, smirking to himself. He knows this isn’t going to be a one time thing and you knew it too. He’s going to see his cute little кукла real soon.

🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾

-Bucky’s Doll

[bambiimutt]

He makes you cry during an Argument.

Arguments with these boys? What could possibly go wrong..

ೃ࿔*:･

Headcannons and short stories under the cut!

ೃ࿔*:･

TW!! talk of Hoodie stalking, but not major! I think that’s it!!

Jeffrey Hodex:

- you’d think an argument with your boyfriend who loves you oh so dearly would hopefully end in him apologizing. Wanting to make sure he didn’t say anything to you to hurt you.. but you sometimes forget he’s not the normal person.

-Jeff has anger issues and it’s not a surprise to anyone when it’s brought up. So typically with any argument he has, his anger tends to get the better of him.

-which means if the argument is small it’s bound to be blown out of proportion, if it’s a pretty bad argument it’s about to be even worse.

-he doesn’t like to listen. To him he’s always right. He’s never wrong even if deep down he knows he actually fucked up he doesn’t want to admit it because he doesn’t want to look “weak” or too “soft”

-he typically doesn’t feel bad if you end up getting hurt emotionally, you’ll get a good ol scoff and roll of the eyes while he tells you “it’s not that big of a fucking deal, you don’t need to be so emotional.” Along the lines of that.

-but… you might just tug a few heart strings when he realized he’s made you cry. It’s when he sees that he’s scared you that he breaks a little. He’s got a habit of punching walls, breaking shit around the house when you both argue, screaming in your face.. and if it all leads to you finally breaking down and shaking that’s where he finally draws his line.

-he didn’t mean to scare you.. not like that at least. The last thing he wants is for you to be scared of him. He loves you.. even if he shows it in odd ways. He’s an asshole yes but he’s your asshole.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Would you just fucking Listen!” Jeff screamed out. His hands were immediately gripping onto his pants, trying his damned hardest to not punch the closest thing to him. But he can’t help himself the moment you cross your arms and give him that fucking look. “Jeffrey. Cut it out, I’ve listened to you for the past 40 fucking minutes.. you need to listen to me-“ you’re cut off quickly hearing his hand collide with the wall and a loud grunt leaving his lips. He’s slightly heaving, breathing heavily and hair a bit messy in front of his face. You jumped a bit, backing up quickly when he immediately whipped around to trudge towards you, black combat boots making him taller then he already was. His large hand was quick to grab your jaw and squish your cheeks together just slightly. “No you fucking listen to me. Stop being a fucking bitch. Why do you have to pick at everything I fucking do, huh?! Huh?!” If he was a scrawny guy you’d say you’d be able to at least get free but no.. no he was a big guy, tall. Muscular, broad shoulders.. built chest. His biceps twitched slightly as his grip grew harder. There was no way you were escaping this. Not with him. Your small hands pushed at his arm and your eyes watered, a tear falling onto his fingers. Oh.. Jeff’s grip softened as he slowly let go. His form lowering himself so he was at your level. “Oh baby.. oh..” his hands hesitated before cupping your cheeks and his lips are kissing at the corners of your lips, trailing towards your ear. “I didn’t mean it..” his voice is deep, gruff and low in your ear as you immediately wrap your arms around his waist. “I’m sorry..” really it’s the only time you’ll get a sorry out of him, a genuine one at that.

Tobias Rogers

- he’s one of the ones who’s a bit more understanding. He can’t exactly understand physical pain or frustration but he can completely understand emotional pain and anger.. and how fucking awful it can be to handle. So when he’s stood, tall and lanky in front of you, hands swinging in the air and his voice raising he can suddenly feel the room shift to a hurt.. deep cut feeling.

- he tries not to yell he tries to hear you out when you both have an argument, but having BPD can be an issue when it comes to that.. you say one thing in a slight tone and he’s set off. Oh? So this is his fault suddenly? Why did you have to say it like that? You could have said it this way. Why do you have to be such a fucking asshole?

-when in reality that’s not how you meant it at all.. and yes Toby does feel bad for it afterwards he shouldn’t have lashed out that way, he should have sat and listened and maybe asked why you said it that way.. but sometimes things get the better of us.

-he’s not always the one to apologize afterwards but he does when he knows he really fucked up. He can’t lose you not to something so fucking stupid. “I-I’m sorry.. you didn’t deserve to hear that.. to e-endure any of that..” with a sniffle you look up at him teary eyed. Oh that really hurts. “It’s okay Toby” he’s immediately at your side, hands brushing your hair back and placing gentle kisses to your jaw. It kills him when you cry.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“I don’t know Toby I’m just tired..” this is what set him off. The way you said it. You were tired? of this? Of him? Of this relationship? “Are you fucking serious?” He speaks with his teeth clenched together, his head resting in his hands before he’s looking up at your slowly. His body slightly twitches from time to time, though when he was angry it usually became an issue for him, twitching far too often, clearing his throat more aggressively. His tics would normally become more violent in some ways. “Are we just d-done then? That’s it just b-because you’re tired yo-you can’t fucking walk away-“ his arm flys up in the air as he stands, his hands coming to rub at his face and the patch of hair on his chin. His tired droopy eyes dart towards you. You didn’t necessarily start crying because he scared you it was more of the the stress of the situation. “Toby please that’s not what I meant.” He still hasn’t noticed as his tall figure is rambling on, tics making his occasional grip and smack to his leg but he of course can’t feel it. When he finally looks at you he realizes you’ve been crying and it stops. The room becomes quiet and he twitches a few more times before softly kneeling on the floor where you sat. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that.. I’m sorry..” he’s softly laying you down on the floor as his lips trail your neck, his hands placing your arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry.” He mumbles against your neck.

-Ben Lawman/drowned

- to be honest he’s probably not the one who started it. He’s usually pretty calm, and quiet…. Except for when he wants to act like a child and become ignorant and downright inappropriate.

-he can be perverted.. gross and this is usually where the arguments start, not that you don’t like him nor the way he acts it’s more when he says things he shouldn’t be saying. So you typically end up yelling at him and he will normally sit embarrassed and feeling a bit guilty.. he didn’t think you’d get so upset.

- on occasion if the argument isn’t about that and about something else he still is usually the one to just take it but there are rare moments where he snaps back. And when he does. Oh boy.

-constant pacing back and forth, hands in his hair, sharp glares at you and laughing in disbelief. He’ll sometimes say things he doesn’t mean. He’s usually not one to yell but when he does you aren’t really expecting it. So it scares you.. and the tears finally break.

- ben only stares for a moment. “Shit.” Yeah he fucked up big time. He immediately feels guilty and he immediately rushes towards you to pull you into a tight embrace. He didn’t mean to take it that far.. he really didn’t, knowing it was him who made you cry makes him want to break down himself.

ೃ࿔*:･

“You can hate me yknow, I won’t blame you, or be angry..” Ben mumbled against your hair, your sniffling shattering his dead heart even further. You look up at the blonde, your fingers lacing their way into his hair as you force a bit of a smile “I just.. I hate when we argue like that..” your voice breaks causing Ben to swallow. Oh no. There’s that lump in his throat. His hands rub at your back before feeling his way towards your lower half, squeezing gently. “I know babe. Don’t listen to me when I get like that yeah?” You give a gentle smile as he softly lifts you up, bringing you closer as he grabs his controller, getting ready to play his game and have you relax against him. Occasionally he’ll presses kisses to your forehead. He doesn’t like to talk about the arguments, maybe because he doesn’t know how to handle his emotions and yours at the same time or maybe he’s just scared it’ll lead to another argument, but he apologized like he always does and makes sure your comfy against him while he games. As long as you’re content with it, he’s content.

-Masky/ Tim Wright

- a bit like Jeff I just think he’s a bit more mellow, he won’t ever apologize unless he knows he’s actually in the wrong. Which ends up being majority of the time. You know he has his episodes, where he blacks out and doesn’t remember a lot of the things he ends up doing.

- he will sometimes black out during an argument. It’s not often but when he does it’s like arguing with a brick wall. Like Jeff he won’t listen. He refuses to listen to anything you say because In the moment he’s the one who’s right. But he’ll never go as far to say mean things like Jeff does. No Tim tends to stop himself before he does.

-he storms off frequently. I think he more or so hates the emotions that comes with this. He hates the yelling, the way you look at him with disbelief and anger.. Its more so he doesn’t feel like fucking shit up for being an asshole to someone who genuinely cares about him. So he leaves you to your emotions to figure out, and if they aren’t figured out by the time he gets back he tries his best to help. Even if he does seem annoyed.

- typically your arguments are more him being snarky, sarcastic and being too logical, he can raise his voice from time to time but he’s only ever yelled at you once, and he still beats him self up for it to this day. Seeing you cry at how angry he got, how you still reached out for him in your meltdown caused by him.. and you still reached for him.

ೃ࿔*:･

“They’re pills y/n, prescription pills. I’ll be fine you know I need to take them. Why do I need to keep telling you thi-“ you cut him off quickly your voice already laced with concern as it shook. “Because you take more then you should be taking Tim. I don’t like it I don’t want you to hurt yourself..” he understood where you came from yes but what you needed to do was stop it. Just stop worrying about him. “Please for the love of god, I’m fine! I’m fucking fine! I’ll be fine! Please just stop it. I hate how much you worry and stress yourself over me. They’re fucking pills, I take them when needed. So just stop!” Now he didn’t scream super loud, but it was loud enough for you to feel the lumpy tingly feeling in your throat bubble, your hands softly twisting together “s-sorry..” you squeaked out. Tears brimmed your eyes as your bottom lip quivered. He watched you carefully for a moment, grimacing a bit as he watched your face twist with sadness.. and you slowly making your way towards him. Tim opens his arms and quietly pulls you in, one hand rubbing at the back of your head and the other gripping your back. “I’m an asshole. I know you’re just worried.” He mumbled quietly, lips pressed to your forehead as you hide your face in his chest. “You’re okay..” he continues to mumble, awkwardly trying to find a way to comfort you further.

Hoodie/ Brian Thomas

-he’s quiet. Very quiet. I think he’s the most gentle when it comes to arguments with his S/O. He’s scared to hurt you, always in any circumstances. He’s more observant, he knows when the argument gets too much for you just by a single movement.

-though he does have his moments where he does get angry back, he can normally control his temper. Usually the argument starts by something he’s done so he can handle it, he can deal with it. He tells you “I promise I’ll change, just give me some time” and you believe him because he does change but then he falls back into his habits, leaving for weeks on end, taking too many pills, his stalker tendencies.

-the argument this time is unclear, you probably don’t even remember by the Time Brian starts yelling back at you. His hair is messy from running his hands through it one too many times, he’s clenching his fists and trying to breathe as he shakily keeps his voice down.

-even in moments like this he still thinks of you. Not wanting to hurt you nor scare you.. he just lets you have your outburst and then you both move on. But tonight was different.

-he tends to ignore you when he gets worked up in an argument. If he’s not yelling back then majority of the time he’s just silent. His back towards you. But only when he’s angry right back at you. He’ll give you that silent treatment for hours.

-but this time. He made you cry. And he’s stopped dead in his tracks, eyes softening, getting down on his knees and resting his head against your stomach,his hands holding onto your waist. Sigh… he just had to fuck shit up again didn’t he.

ೃ࿔*:･

“Brian you can’t just leave me for weeks on end.. you can’t just.. disappear then show up like nothings happened. Where do you go..? Is there someone else” at this point he’s just been listening to you, letting you vent out but when you suddenly accuse him of cheating on you.. he snaps. You really think HE would cheat on you?! It’s not like he didn’t spend months watching you, becoming so infatuated with you to the point that it would make anybody so fucking sick to their stomach. But he couldn’t tell you that he couldn’t tell you he’s loved you far longer. So he stands, looks at you with anger in his eyes, a hint of sadness flashing on his face “don’t fucking accuse me of cheating on you.” He points a shaky finger in your face “don’t you ever. You don’t understand the shit I’d do for you, the shit I DO for you.” He’s close now, watching as you look up at him shakily. “This S-still doesn’t explain where you go Brian.. you-“ he’s grabbing your wrist and pulling you close “no listen to me. I want to tell you I want to tell you so badly but I can’t. I can’t. I just can’t.” His eyes are averting he’s becoming shaky himself, he’s panicking. Trust him. Is what he wants to tell you, that It’ll all be okay, he’ll be okay in a couple of days, he’ll change just give him time.. but he can’t lie to you.. not now. It would only make shit worse for you in this moment. When he finally looks back at you he sees you staring up at him, not a word spoken but tears streaming down your face, and your wrists still held tight in his large hands. “I..” he softly brings your hand down, lowering himself to the ground as he watches you still stare straight ahead. He scared you. Brian goes silent and lets himself sit on his knees, his hands running up under your shirt to hold onto your waist and burying his head into your stomach. “I’m sorry” he whispered gently, shivering when he feels your hands curl into his hair and finally look down at him. You know he feels guilty. He’s only trying to protect you.

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: You want your boyfriend's attention again.

Genre: Hurt & comfort (angsty fr)

Warnings: James is an asshole in the beginning, relationship problems (happy ending!), mentions of fighting and jealousy, crying, sexual harassment/non-consensual kissing, swearing (a lot)

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

"Wait, James! I'm sorry," you shout but James doesn't listen as he harshly pulls his arm away from you when you try to hold onto the sleeve of his jumper. Salty tears brim your eyes as you mutter, "Please, Jamie. You have to understand."

You almost bump into him when he stops dead in his tracks. "Understand? What is there to understand?" he states in a whisper, his voice uncharacteristically calm for someone that's so very clearly furious. It scares you. Your chest feels tight as he turns around and when thunder crackles in the sky, you jump.

"He touched you," Pain taints his voice and your eyes soften, "Rosier had his dirty hands all over you and you didn't even try to stop him."

You shake your head and your hands move to hold his cheek but he turns his head away, "I didn't want him to touch me! I s-swear," you try to explain desperately, "I just, I just wanted you to see me and — " You start but James interrupts you,

"Y/n, how can you say I don't see you? I love you! You're the only thing I see."

You feel like you're slowly losing your mind, "Then why don't you show it anymore?" Thunder claps again and rain hits your skin like small knives. You don't dare make a move as you remain frozen under your boyfriend's harsh stare.

"I show you I love you plenty," he defends.

You feel exhausted and your words come out jumbled, "No, you don't. I almost never see you anymore and tonight you spent all evening with your friends. I-I wore this stupid dress for you," You show him your dress and he looks at you with round, frustrated, eyes, "And you couldn't even compliment me."

James runs a hand in his damp hair and tugs at his curls in frustration, "I tell you you're beautiful all the damn time." He insists and you shake your head furiously.

"You haven't complimented me in weeks!"

James doesn't move and you can almost see inside his mind. He's thinking hard. "I haven't?" he asks slowly, genuinely trying to understand and remember.

You turn from him a little, tears pricking at your eyes. You close them, trying to erase what had happened at the party earlier. The music, the dancing, Rosier's lips against your ear, his hand on your arm,

"I can make him jealous, you know."

You had jumped, the drink in your hand almost falling to the floor. Evan held your hand and smirked his infamous smirk. "What?" you asked, your voice small as it's drowned out by the music.

Evan pursed his lips and ran a hand in his hair. "Your boyfriend," he said with venom and glanced at James. James, who was across the room with his friends, laughing loudly with his arm swung around Sirius's shoulder. You had blushed, a familiar pit forming in your stomach. You grasped your dress as Evan continued, "I can help you make him jealous."

In a moment of weakness, you looked at him and asked, "How?"

And then his body was pressing yours against the wall. Stunned, you didn't have the time to process what was happening as Evan's hand swept up your side and he whispered, "Let me show you how gorgeous you look tonight, Y/n," his voice was smooth as honey but his teeth nipped at your neck.

You made a small gasp when his lips found the corner of your mouth and just as your hands touched his chest to push him away, he's yanked away by his collar. James looked furious as he punched Evan and the party came to a sudden halt.

"She wanted me, mate," Evan said through a busted lip and, judging by the guilty look on his face, James believed him. James hadn't said a word to you as he dropped Evan and stormed outside. You ran after him, desperate.

Your eyes open and a tear slides down your cheek as you answer James, "No. You haven't. Not in a while. You barely even make time in your busy schedule to make conversation with me. I-If you don't want me anymore, you can tell me and," your voice is trembling and you have trouble finishing your sentence, "and w-we can break up."

James's entire face drains of color hearing you and his eyes widen. His hands shake as they find your cheeks and he moves in closer.

He looks you over, his lip trembling. "I'm so sorry," his voice is a mere whisper as he continues to look at you. You can see his mind racing, his eyes moving quickly over you as he searches your skin. "Y/n, did he hurt you? Rosier — did he hurt you?"

James leans his forehead on yours when you shake your head no. "Shit, baby, I'm such an idiot," he sounds desperate as his hands sweep up your arms and he looks at your body. "You're so stunning, Y/n. So beautiful all the fucking time. I'm so fucking sorry, love. I don't want to break up with you, that's the last thing I would ever want. I can't lose you."

You're overwhelmed by all kinds of emotions as you whisper, "Then why have you been ignoring me? Am I not enough for you anymore?"

James shushes you as he pets your soaked hair and gently guides your head to look up at him. He moves hair away from your face. "Don't say that. Please. You did nothing wrong. It's my fault. I have been so busy lately with school and Quidditch and – fuck – it never occurred to me that I was losing you. I took you for granted, love," he admits, caressing your cheek, "You're so sweet and kind to me I didn't even know something was wrong. I'm so sorry."

You don't want to forgive him and still, you subconsciously find yourself leaning into his touch. As much as you want to despise him for what he did, you love him more than you could ever hate him and James sees this. He holds your cheek and he strokes his calloused thumb against your skin. "You should be mad at me, love. I fucking deserve it," he says sadly.

"I just don't understand why you would think I wanted Rosier to kiss me," You admit, your voice small. James's heart tightens in his chest and tears brim in his eyes. He doesn't think you can hate him more than he hates himself at this moment.

"I don't know, Y/n," he admits, "I don't know what I was thinking but I- I should have listened to you," he whispers, looking down and you can tell he's replaying the moment Rosier crushed you against the wall over and over again in his head.

"Bloody hell, I'm a shit boyfriend. Some guy forces himself onto you and the first thing I do is blame you," he sounds angry with himself and you can tell even if you reassure him, he won't excuse himself so easily.

"It's okay," you try anyway but James quickly presses his finger to your lips.

"Shh, no. It isn't okay," he says, his eyes stern and he leans his forehead on yours. "I don't fucking deserve your forgiveness," his hand hovers over your form, afraid to touch you but silently pleading with his eyes for you to let him.

You nod and his fingers skim the satin of your dress. "I love you," James says. His hand touches your waist and then gently slides up your ribs. "I love you. I love you. I love you," he continues in a mantra as his lips press to your ear and you let out a sigh. You melt into his touch and his mantra changes, "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. Shit, baby, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," You try and whisper again but this time his lips find yours to silence you. You're surprised but when James pulls away to make sure you're okay with him kissing you after everything, you squeeze your eyes shut and chase his lips. James's hands move up and hold your cheeks as he kisses you again.

The kiss is delicate and mixed with both anger and sadness. Your anger and his, his sadness and yours, as well as an abundance of soul crushing love. Jame's hand slides down to hold yours and he disconnects your lips. "How can I make it up to you?" he asks seriously, looking into your eyes.

"What?" your eyebrows crease.

James repeats his question without complaints, "How can I make this better? I want to show you how much I care."

You search his face and he looks determined. A smile tugs at your lips. "Oh, um," you think for a moment, "just don't do it again? Please don't forget me again." James's heart shatters again and he's convinced all he has left in his chest are sharp shards that will cut into him for the rest of his life.

"Never, baby, never," he promises as he presses a kiss to your forehead. "What else? What else, love?" James sounds desperate at this point.

You pull away and stare into his eyes. "Listen," you start and his stomach turns as sweat beads at his forehead, mixing with the raindrops. His mind starts to spin as he thinks of what you could say.

I think this isn't working. I can't look past this. I don't love you anymore, not after what you did.

"I'm not looking to punish you for what happened, I just want to move forward," you pause and James hangs on your every word. "I love you and I can tell you're really sorry. I know you, and I know you won't do it again." James nods his head, agreeing, and caresses your cheek, "That's enough for me."

You kiss his lips and then smile at him and James is sure his heart will explode from happiness. The rain finally slows as he listens to your words and in a breathless whisper he vows to never do anything like this again.

And he never does.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

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

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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…”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Thanks for the ride (Long Drabble) Author's Notes: Personally this one is the worst one of the four. Also I didn't expect this to be this long. Warnings: MDNI, Angst

Did Soap enjoy being a little shit? Most of the time. But when it involved hurting you, even disguised as Price’s doing, he couldn’t find any joy in it. He may have successfully ruined Price in your eyes but at what cost?

He knew that you would only take so much of this. He wasn’t stupid. You will snap one day and all of their efforts to keep you will end up being futile. But some sick part of him hoped that you liked them enough to stay. That’ll you’ll hold out as much as they have so far.

And if you hold out long enough, maybe, just maybe, Soap can outlast the others. It’s only a matter of time before the others get over their little crush. Right?

But until then, he’ll be waiting. He’ll keep his distance but he’ll come as soon as you start calling.

Like now, as his phone lights up with your name. It’s Friday morning and he’s currently spotting Gaz on the bench press when his phone starts to ring. His heart jumps when he sees your name. He swipes his phone and answers it.

“Sergeant MacTavish,” he says. He cringes at his words.

“Sergeant,” you start. He could cry. He’s not just your sergeant, he’s Johnny, your Johnny-boy. “I am so sorry to bother you so early but I didn’t know who else to call.” He could tell from the tone of your voice that you were in trouble. He turns around to avoid Kyle from overhearing.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I'm okay, but... I... I'm on my way to base, but my car just broke down. I'd walk but I won't make it on time to today's meeting if I do. Is there anyway you can pick me up? I'll pay for gas and your time. Again, I am so sorry for bother--"

"It's not a bother. I'll be there in 10." He hangs up the phone before you can say anything else. Soap was truly God's favorite. Despite everything, you still called him. And like always, he'll answer.

"Everything good there, buddy?" pipes up Gaz.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry. Uh... just one of the techs," Soap explains. He grabs his bag and tells Gaz he has to go... "bomb emergency." He leaves and rushes to his room. He zips through his room, trying to change into something less sweaty. He wasn't sure why, but his heart was racing.

Was he nervous?

Of course he was nervous.

This would be the first time in over a month that you called him for something that didn't involve a mission. There would be no Ghost, no Price, no Gaz to get in his way. He sprays some perfume that you had gotten him for his birthday, grabs his keys, and runs out of his room.

It's just a straight shot - straight down the hall and to the parking lot. Should be easy?

Wrong.

Waiting for him at the door was his fellow sergeant, Kyle Gaz Garrick.

"Where you going there, buddy? Isn't techs on the other side of the base?" He stands up straight, staring the Scotsman down.

Soap does the same. One way or another, he was going to give you that ride. "It is, but it'll be faster if I drive there. So if you can move, you'd make my day." He tries to side-step Gaz, but Gaz stay still. "Move!" Soap tries to push his teammate. Kyle pushes back, pinning him up against the wall, his arm over his neck.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice? Mate, your brightness and volume were all the way up ," he scoffs. "You really think I'm going to let you be the hero here."

"Get off!" Soap roars. He shoves Kyle back and punches him in the gut, forcing the sergeant to fall to his knees. However, it does nothing to stop him as Kyle lunges at the Scotsman, forcing him on the floor. They tussle for a bit before two pairs of arms pull the sergeants off from one another.

"What the hell is going on here?" commands Price. He has Soap in his grip while Ghost grabs Gaz.

"Soap here is trying to see them without us," Gaz spits out. Soap feels Price's hold on him tighten. Soap tries to explain himself. How you had called HIM for a ride and he was just trying to be a good teammate.

Price lets out an empty laugh. "Just like how I was trying to help with lunch." Fuck. Soap knew that was going to bite him in the ass, but he didn't think so soon. Ghost lets Gaz go. Gaz walks towards Soap and snatches the keys from his hands.

Soap tries to stop him, but it's no use, Price isn't budging.

And you of course don't know that all of this is going back on base. You're stuck in your car, waiting for Soap to come pick you up. You weren't happy that you called him, but you really had no choice. The bus had already passed, you didn't have enough time to walk, and it looked like it was going to rain. Besides, Soap said it wasn't a bother.

15 minutes have passed and you were starting to get antsy. The meeting was going to start soon and Soap still hadn't come by. You decide to text him... worst case, he's driving and can't answer.

You: Hey! Sorry to bother, but are you close? Again thank you so much for the ride

You put your phone down and look out the window.

Buzz, buzz.

Johnny-boy: Something came up. Sorry.

No fucking way. You could cry right now. And not even out of disappointment, but out of anger. You don't even bother to answer. You turn off your phone and jump out of your car. At this point, it didn't even matter. You were going to be late either way. What's the point of giving them a heads up?

And to your luck, it starts to rain... hard. Could your day get any worse? Fuck, your month, really? Whatever you did, there's no way it was that bad to deserve all of this.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't hear the racing car blasting rock music behind you.

Back on base, Soap is close to just dying in his seat. The 141 are all in the conference room, waiting for your arrival. Gaz and Price are in their seats while Ghost blocks the door. He can see his phone in his Lieutenant's pocket.

Soap begs him to let him go. It's pouring out there and knowing how stubborn you could be, you're probably walking in this weather.

Price shoots him a pointed look. "You really think I'd let them walk in this rain. I already sent some rookies to pick them up." And on cue, his phone rings. "Look, it's the rookies."

Price answers the phone. But instead, of keeping his neutral face, he just frowns. "What do you mean they're not there?" Soap's blood runs cold. Price argues with the rookies for a bit until he hangs up. The room tenses. Everyone looks at Price with baited breath. They all assume the worst. But before anyone can even suggest it, the door opens.

"141! My favorite team! How are... what's with the long faces?" The men all pause. They all had forgotten that Nikolai was going to help them on this next op.

"Nik, not the time," Price grumbles out. All of the men agree. Right now, you were missing and it was all their fault.

Nik gets serious and takes a seat. He assures them that things will work out. Once you finish changing, you can all brainstorm and find a solution.

Once you finish changing?

Soap makes the connection first. He asks Nik if you were on base.

"Da. Found them on my way here." Soap could just cry out of joy. You were okay. You were alive.

His joy is cut short when you come in. You don't say anything. You take your seat at the end of the table.

You look at all of them with indifference, with apathy. "Let's get started."

Soap calls your name. He wasn't sure what he was going to say. All he knew was that he needed to talk to you.

You glare at him. "Sergeant MacTavish, we've wasted enough time today. Let's just do our job," you spit out. You reel in your anger. You were done with Soap, with this team, with everyone.

Soap sinks in his seat. He didn't think you were capable of hatred.

Word Count: 1450

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[rosemarydisaster]

I made some sort of alignment classification based on whether they're impulsive or if they plan ahead for the Batfam. Feel free to correct me (politely please, I'll cry) or to add your opinion. I'm not trying to be super canon, just based on their characters' vibes.

Bruce Wayne: 100% planner. This man could be a Bene Gesserit, plans within plans, and they always work even if they shouldn't (because DC can't have him be wrong). It's like a choose your own adventure, you follow the plan and each time something new happens that is sure to chase things up he pulls a subsection specifically for it. Senior Justice League Members just don't question him anymore no matter what. "You had a contingency for getting invaded by mind controlling ballerina spiders? Yeah, sure, tell us all about it".

Barbara Gordon: she plans around her impulses. She is self aware enough at this point to know she's a bit of a hot head. It is what it is, she's called Batman an Emo Boy's idea of Therapy enough times to his face to know she just can't help herself with some stuff. So instead of working against it she plans around it. In the end, it was her plan all along. Canary thinks she could just hold her tongue, but considering the vigilantes Oracle manages, her experience in planning for these situations is invaluable.

Dick Grayson: Impulsive, not because he can't make plans or because he isn't smart. Quite the opposite. He just has that ADHD dog in him. He would be guiding the Titans through a mission and they'd be thinking "Woah, everything is going according to his plan", meanwhile inside his head is Bear Grylls saying "Improvise, Adapt, Overcome". It's not so much that he comes up with plans on the spot but he ends up changing it along the way because he thought of something better for that specific situation. He may use B's protocols for a general structure but then trusts his instinct to come up with something better on the spot.

Cassandra Cain: Neither. She's not one to be coming up with elaborate schemes but, as much as she relies on her instinct, she's able to stop before jumping. She doesn't need to plan, she knows what works. She observes and then takes the best course of action. When Bruce goes on and on about the importance of planning she just answers "Skill issue" and leaves.

Jason Todd: impulsive planner. This is a man that makes plans, okay? He's theatre kid coded, he needs to know his little monologues by heart. The thing is, he's also very emotional and has the impulse control of a toddler in front of the cookie jar. He can't help himself, he has to punch the asshole and make the witty comeback or he will explode. The outlaws have been grilled to death on the importance of following the plan but then watch him like ten minutes later throw it out the window. They find it both endearing and annoying.

Stephanie Brown: Queen of Chaos. She can plan. She's good at it too btw, she just doesn't want to if she can avoid it. She works best when she's improvising and it drives Bruce and Tim up the walls. They just hate to see women winning. She's the best one out of all of them at turning a mistake to her advantage in a matter of seconds. It's quite impressive.

Tim Drake: Chaotic planner. Everyone is so sure Tim is a mini Bruce and to a certain extent, if you squint your eyes, then yes. But Young Just Us know the truth: his plans are extremely effective but only in the most chaotic way possible. There's the Batman plan, and there's the Red Robin plan, which is like the first one but faster and with more fire. He also has to be periodically reminded to take into account his own wellbeing when making his little schemes.

Duke Thomas: plans on the go. I don't know how else to explain it but it's like those sequences in the Sherlock movies (the ones with RDJ) where he's watching his surroundings and opponents almost in slow-mo till he puts together a plan. It's similar to Dick from the outside, but if you pay attention you can see the wheels turning in his head as he goes along. He actually stops and thinks (metaphorically, most of the time his thinking is done while he distracts enemies).

Damian Al Gul Wayne: he's a strategist, not a planner. This is an important distinction because whenever Batman or Red Robin are explaining one of their convoluted plans he feels like he's actively losing braincells. He's closer to Cassandra in the way he prefers a more direct solution. He also gets palpitations anytime Jason or Stephanie just start doing things without thinking. If he knew what Dick's thought process was he would have probably developed an anxiety disorder in his time as Dick's robin. He doesn't understand the need for such high detail planning and hates the idea of making it along the way. No, he just needs to come up with the most efficient strategy and that's all.

[thealtoduck]

Greedy

Peter Parker x Male Black Cat!Reader

Warnings: Smut, semi-angsty, top!Reader, bottom!Peter, friends with benefits, unprotected sex, rough sex, anal sex, fingering, doggy style, spanking, you cry after sex, calling Peter a whore, slut, etc…

Male Black Cat!Reader: Masterlist

Summary: After a failed robbery you’re pissed of so Peter helps you release some frustration…

——

You shot your grappling hook and swung yourself to another building closely followed by Spider-Man. He’d been able to keep up with you a lot better than usual, having learned to avoid your regular tricks and traps.

”You’ve gotten better at this!” you called out to the superhero chasing you. You jumped the gap to another building. Suddenly a web caught your arm pulling it back making you lose balance and fall hitting the rooftop floor.

You felt a pain in your leg as you quickly tried standing back up. Spider-Man swung right over your head and landed in front of you. ”Or maybe you’ve just gotten slow” he teased, the two of you then engaged in combat.

You slashing at him with your claws and him doing his best to block and dodge your attacks. Once he went on the offensive you ducked his quick strong jabs. Spider-Man noticed the leg you fell on was shaky as you avoided his punches.

He used this to his advantage and did a sweep with his leg knocking you to the ground, it was usually by now you found some gadget or distraction to give yourself a chance to escape. Spider-Man quickly ran up to you and ripped your backpack from your back and quickly webbed one of your arms down keeping you in place.

”You can’t take that” you said losing the regular playfullness in your voice. ”I just did” Spider-Man said victoriously. He went for the zipper on the bag while muttering ”What did you even steal?”. You watched with a glare as Spider-Man brought out a set of files from your bag.

”Put that back” you demanded but he ignored you. He opened one of the files and stated ”It’s the layout of a prison” he then turned his gaze to you and asked ”Are you planning to break someone out?”. He continued looking through some other files as you desperately looked for a way to free yourself.

You heard sirens in the distance approaching and even though you couldn’t see his mouth you knew Spider-Man was smirking. ”Well looks like i finally caught you Cat, tell me how does it feel?”.

Then you found something. ”Oh Spider… when will you learn, you can’t cage the Black Cat” you said and threw one of your newer gadgets towards him, which he easily dodged out of the way for it as it hit the water tower behind him. ”You missed” Spider-Man said proudly, but as he noticed your facial expression he realised… you hadn’t missed.

Next thing he knew an explosion came and he was completely drenched in water and the water tower started collapsing on to him. The files you had collected were washed away spreading wet sheets of paper out all over the rooftop.

Spider-Man managed to catch the falling water tower as it landed on top of him. He then threw it to the side and turned to where you had been webbed finding only an empty spot with some left over webbing.

”Shit” he swore to himself. He tried to pick up some wet paper files but they fell apart almost instantly as he did. At least he had managed to foil your break out plans he thought to himself.

——

You grappled your way to your secret lair, an old storage unit your mom had used during her time as the Black Cat. You opened your door and walked inside seeing collections of jewelry and paintings, maps with marked out locations and all your tech stuff. You slammed the door behind you and ripped off your mask throwing it aside.

You walked up to your working bench and slammed your fists on the table, your one chance you could’ve had to free your mom from prison and that stupid arachnid boy had ruined everything.

You grabbed something random from the working bench and threw it across the room in a rage, making it smash against the wall…

——

You layed with crossed arms on your bed leaning against the headborard as Peter played video games on your flatscreen tv. Your dad was out of town for business so you and Peter decided to have a sleepover while he was gone.

You thought about canceling with Peter after last nights failed theft but you hoped his company might help cheer you up… so far it wasn’t working, you had a noticable scowl on your face and a clear lack of energy in your voice.

Peter had noticed but not pointed it out as he wasn’t completely sure you wanted to talk about it. Once he finished the level he put the controller aside and layed down next to you. He gently touched your arm and asked ”Y/n, are you okay?”

You turned to him with a distracted look and said simple ”Yeah” but then added a ”Just in a bad mood”. ”Do you want me to leave or something? I can give you space?” Peter asked sweetly, sitting up ready to leave if you wanted some alone time.

”No, stay, i like your company” you said but with more softness in your voice this time as you put your hand on top of his, giving it a light squeeze. ”Alright… is there anything i can do for you?” Peter asked generously. You stayed silent for a moment…

”Can i fuck you?…” you said a mix of coldness and longing in your voice. Peter was caught of guard making him silent, making you quickly add ”You really don’t have to if you don’t want to, i just- i just want some release… that’s all”.

Peter thought about it for a moment and asked curiously ”What did you have in mind?”. You stood up and said ”Come on” and led him out of your room, and down the hallway. You then opened the door to another room where Peter followed you inside.

It was a bigger room than yours, the first thing Peter noticed were the two glass doors along the left wall that opened to a balcony looking out over the other suburban houses. He looked around the room, along the walls were some really nice paintings, like straight out of a museum.

There were also some pictures of you as a child spread around the room, as well as a big family portrait hanging over the headboard of a large bed, a bed for two. This was you parents room.

You stood in front of the double bed and then explained in a darkened tone ”I want to take you like whore on my parents bed”. The request left Peter on mute, this was something new to him… having sex on your parents bed felt so inappropriate and lewd… and he was suprisingly really turned on by it.

”Look, like i said you really don’t have to if-” you said again but Peter interrupted saying ”Yeah, let’s do it”. You nodded and said ”Okay, get ready then, i’ll get the lube”. You said leaving and walking back to your room.

Peter slowly started undressing pulling of his shirt and pants, leaving him in socks and underwear. Peter moved on to the bed and tried to position himself in a sexy way, like he’d seen you do before.

When you came back inside you threw the bottle of lube on to the bed and tugged your own shirt off. You stood yourself on the edge of the bed and pulled Peter closer by his legs. Peter stood up on his knees and the two of you started hungrily making out.

You grabbed at Peter’s bulge feeling him getting hard in your hand, you then slipped in your hand inside his underwear and rubbed your hand along his cock with a firm grip of him. Peter let out a soft moan in your face as you did.

You then gently pushed Peter on to his back on the big bed and dragged his underwear down his legs and threw them on the floor. Peter was now naked in front of you apart from his white socks which you decided to leave on because you thought it made him look cute.

You unbuckled your belt and pulled you pants down and climbed onto the bed in between his legs. You opened the bottle of lube and poured some in your hand and spreading it on your fingers. You then lifted Peter’s spread legs revealing his tight hole that hadn’t been used in a while.

You mercilessly started shoving your first finger in to him making his mouth gape open. ”Fuck” Peter swore as you watched in satisfaction. You impatiently added another finger into him and then another, pumping them in and out him loosening up his ass. Peter’s dick was now rockhard as you finger fucked him.

You then suddenly pulled out your fingers from him, wanting to get your hard manhood inside him. You flipped Peter on to his stomach giving you a full view of his bubble butt, you started teasing your length against his hole.

You squeezed Peter’s left cheek and gave it a light spank. ”You want my cock?” you asked as you kept teasing his awaiting heat. ”Yeah, i want it, please” Peter said almost begging. You spread his ass and pushed your hung cock in to his tight hole, making Peter whine beneath you.

You groaned feeling Peter’s tight walls around your manhood. ”Fuck Y/n, you’re so big” Peter moaned as you sheated yourself inside him. ”Bet you like that” you said grabbing his hips. Without giving Peter much time to adjust you started rolling your hips, your cock moving in and out of him.

”Taking it like a real slut” you said degradingly as Peter moaned in to the matress. You sped up your thrusts making the sound of skin slapping together sound out through the room, his ass kneading your cock like perfection. You moved your hands to Peter’s back pressing him onto the bed.

”Such a whore for my cock aren’t you?” you asked him as you roughly took his ass. But Peter was to blissed out to answer, you raised a hand and gave Peter’s right ass cheek a hard slap that echoed through the room. ”Aren’t you?” you repeated demandingly.

”Yes, i’m your whore” Peter let out through the ectasy he felt. You fucked yourself in to his heat agressively, using the rage you felt to fuck him like a bitch. His hole clenching around you making you groan loudly.

You bodies started getting sweaty from you intense fucking. Peter moaned loudly as you plowed in to him. ”You love when men fuck you full of their cum?” you asked in a rough tone as your big cock pushed against Peter’s prostate.

”Yes, i love being filled with cum!!!” Peter moaned loudly. If anyone was standing outside the bedroom door they would’ve definetely heard every single word. You laid down on to of Peter and took his hands that were gripping the bedsheets and held Peter down as you thrust wildly in to him.

Peter started getting close from the feeling of your cock fucking deeply in to his now loose open hole. ”I’m gonna cum” Peter whined through his moans. ”Cum then you little whore” you said grabbing Peter’s messy sweaty hair in your hand.

Peter’s length pressed down to the matress then started spilling his seed in to a puddle on the sheets. You thrusts started growing eratic and hungry as you chased your own release. ”Gonna fuck my whore full of cum” you growled to the tired out Peter beneath you.

”Yes fill me with your cum!” Peter gasped which was all you needed to hear as you delivered one last powerful thrust in to him and let your seed erupt deep inside Peter’s heat, filling him all the way up. His hole started leaking as soon as you pulled out of him.

You laid down beside Peter in exhaustion feeling cleansed of your anger. You looked to the side where spotted a picture on the nightside table, it was a picture of you as a kid and your mom before she got locked up. It made a new feeling bubble up inside you.

Sadness…

A tear started trickling down your cheek your cheek as you let out a small whimper. Peter heard and immediately turned to you. He noticed tears had started uncontrolably rolling down your cheeks.

”Y/n, are you okay? Did i do something wrong?” Peter quickly questioned. You shook your head and said ”No, i’m just emotional”. Peter looked conserned at you. ”Can you hold me?” you asked him through sniffs. ”Of course” Peter said and let you nuzzle your tear stained face in to his chest.

He didn’t really understand what was happening or what brought this on but he wrapped his arms around your body letting you cry. You calmed down after a while but you the two of you stayed cuddled together.

Soon enough the two of you fell asleep in the big bed holding each other closely all through the night.

[alyswritings]

First Period

Request: Could you write a fic where jj maybanks little sister gets her first period and her dad finds out and makes her feel really bad about it but then jj makes her feel better?

JJ Maybank x sister!reader

Summary: Y/N gets her first period.

Warnings: luke being a dick

(gif not mine)

Y/N walks into the bathroom, pulling her pants down and sitting on the toilet. She looks down, her eyes widening at the red stain in her underwear. Her heartrate picks up, the girl quickly pulling her pants up and turning around in the mirror, seeing the red substance on the back of her pajama pants.

"No. No, no, no." She mumbles, rushing to her bedroom. She pulls the blankets back, the blood on her sheets. "Fuck." She whispers, feeling panic start to build up. She doesn't have any items to help her or prepare her for this. JJ's not even home, the boy having to work, reluctantly leaving his sister home alone with the siblings' dad.

Y/N whines as she considers going to get Luke. Maybe he's in a rare moment of sobriety and would help her. She goes to leave the room, but stops as music starts to blast letting her know she's not getting her wish.

She contemplates texting JJ, but knows they need the money and she shouldn't make him leave early, especially for something that isn't life or death.

The girl jumps as the door slams open, her father storming in.

"The fuck you doing, you useless little bitch? You were supposed to get those damn dishes done." Luke sneers, grabbing a fistful of her hair making her cry out.

"I-I'm sorry. I'll do them now." Y/N whines in pain.

"You bet your stupid ass you will." Luke seethes, Y/N flinching as spit flies onto her face. Luke starts to drag her out but notices the stain on her bed. "The fuck is that?"

"I-I got my period." Y/N admits with a shaky voice, avoiding eye contact.

"Ugh." Luke grimaces. "Don't you have shit for that?" He questions, shoving her back.

"N-no. No, this-- it's my first one." Y/N says. "I didn't-- I didn't know it happ-" She flinches as Luke punches the wall, creating a hole the size of his fist.

"You fucking idiot! You're supposed to know better when it comes to all that nasty shit!" Luke shouts.

"I'm sorry." Y/N whimpers, tears springing to her eyes.

"Don't fucking cry, you little crybaby!" He roars in her face, Y/N doing her best to hold her tears back. "Fucking stupid disgusting little bitch. God." He storms out, slamming the door shut behind him. He raises the volume on his stereo, Y/N covering her ears to block the noise out, quietly sobbing to herself.

---

JJ quietly walks into the house, listening to the silence. He waits a moment, hearing the snores emitting from his father in the living room. He gently shuts the door and creeps through the house, keeping his eyes on his dad to make sure he doesn't wake up.

Ditching his bag in his bedroom, he goes to Y/N's room, gently knocking on the door before opening it and going in, shutting the door. He looks around, frowning when he spots Y/N curled up on the floor on a blanket, her head on her knees.

"Hey." JJ gently calls, Y/N's head shooting up, the boy only growing more worried at the tear stains on her face. He glances up, noticing the hole in the wall that he knows wasn't there before. "Did he hit you?"

Y/N sniffles as she shakes her head, relaxing JJ only the slightest.

"What happened, kid?" JJ asks, crouching in front of her, brushing some of her wet hair away from her face.

"I-I got my period." Y/N mumbles, sniffling. JJ's eyes widen momentarily, not expecting that answer.

"O-okay." He says. "What happened?"

"He got really mad." She says, her voice only a broken whisper. JJ sighs, grimacing at her having to deal with Luke.

"C'mere." He tries to pull her into a hug, but she pulls back.

"No." She whines. "No, I'm disgusting."

"No, you're not." JJ denies. "This is a normal process for girls, you're not disgusting." He assures.

"No, it-- it's in my underwear and on my shorts. That's why I have the blanket, I didn't wanna stain the floor." She starts to cry as she rants. "And it's-- I didn't know what to do, we haven't actually talked about this. And it's all on my bed." She sobs, JJ finally able to pull her into a hug. He gently shushes her as she cries into his shoulder, his hand resting on the back of her head and stroking her hair.

"You're okay." JJ mumbles in her ear. "You're okay. It's okay." JJ continues to hold her until her cries start to cease.

"Okay. Hey." He pulls away, smoothing her hair down. "Get changed, clean up however much you need to, put some toilet paper in your underwear, and-- and if you're okay with it, I'll call Sarah and Kie and get them to help out with-- with the whole... supply thing. Cause I can comfort you, but I know there's a lot of options and I don't know shit about any of them." He admits gaining a watery giggle from his sister.

"That's fine." She nods, rubbing her nose and sniffing.

"Okay." JJ nods. "And pack a bag. We're going to the chateau." He states.

"What about the sheets?" She asks.

"Uh... I'll throw 'em in a trash bag and we can wash them there." JJ says. "I'll handle everything. Just get ready." Y/N nods and JJ kisses her on the forehead before leaving to let her get changed.

---

After a somewhat long trip to the store with Kie and Sarah on FaceTime, the two siblings managed to get the correct items. JJ didn't realize how much they would cost, using the last bit of money he had for them and a candy bar Y/N was eyeing at the counter.

The two are at the chateau and Y/N had taken a shower, taking care of everything while JJ put her sheets in the washer.

Them, Pope, and John B are hanging around as they wait for the other two girls to get here for a movie night.

"Hey." Sarah greets with a smile as she walks in.

"Hey, boys, Y/N/N." Kie smiles, walking in, her arms holding a few pizza boxes and six pack of beer along with a six pack of Y/N's favorite soda.

They get greeting in return, John B taking the pizzas from Kie and putting them on the coffee table.

"And this is especially for you." Sarah smiles, holding a basket out to Y/N. The younger girl lights up at her favorite snacks in the basket, along with a few period products and some painkillers. "A care package."

"Yeah. And if you have any questions, need any help, or anything, you know you can always come to us." Kie assures, smiling softly at the younger girl.

"Thank you." Y/N grins, getting up and hugging them both, the older two returning her hug with tight embraces.

"Here, baby Maybank." John B holds out a plate of pizza out to her, sliding a soda can over to her side of the table.

"Thanks." Y/N mumbles, accepting the plate and sitting back down.

'Thank you.' JJ mouths to his two female friends, both of them giving him smiles and nods.

"Can you sit with me?" Y/N hopefully looks up at Sarah.

"Yeah, of course." Sarah grins.

"Oh, come on." John B whines.

"Sorry, John B. I'm spoken for." Sarah shrugs, sitting next to the tween, rubbing her leg for a short comforting moment.

JJ reaches out and gets his own food and a beer, ruffling Y/N's hair before he sits back down.

[flkwh0re]

The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie.

Contains smut.

Warnings: Readers age is not specified but she is of age, Homophobia, Blood, Puking (reader only does it once while crying), Abuse, Mentions of death, Breif thoughts of suicide, Religion, Use of a slur (once), Nat gaslights reader, Nat punches reader to knock her out, Blasphemy, Dubcon (Nat begins to fuck reader while she’s unconscious then reader wakes up and tries to fight it but eventually gives in), Fingering, Dumbification(-ish???)

Wc: 1,713

A/n: Please listen to Preachers Daughter by Ethel Cain to get the whole ideal feeling of this fic. As a woman who grew up in the south and the church, this album hits really well. Also inspired by the song ‘The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie’ By Colter Wall!

——————————⧗ᗢ——————————

It started off with your father finding out from the woman you trusted most, Carol Danvers. How could she rat you out like that to your father like that? She was your best friend, the only person who knew about your secret.

No one close to you expected you to be a lesbian, even if they called you a fag or said the way you dressed was weird, the way you acted.

He had come home in a fit rage, busting the front door down. You were sure it came off the hinges. Before you knew it, you were backed into the corner, body aching from the blows you had taken, your throat hoarse from the shouting.

You finally found the courage to run and lock yourself in your room, quickly packing a backpack. Throwing in some clothes, shoes, items dear to you, essentials, and a book.

You unfastened the window, punching through the window screen. You hiked your leg out the window and dropped down. To your dismay, your father saw you.

He bolted out the door, and you quickly jumped onto your bike. pedaling as hard as you could, trying to escape the man you feared more than God.

Your dad hadn’t always been like this, he was always more understanding. When your mother died though, he changed. He began to drink and become terribly abusive. His narcissistic behavior only worsened when he ‘strengthened his faith.’

Your breathing became uneven and ragged, exhaustion consuming your overwhelmed body. You finally gave out running off the side of the road, you slid down a hill, bumping into every rock possibly.

Once you were able to stand, blood dripped down your legs and arms. Small amounts also trickled down your face, along with sweat. Dirt and grime coated your body thickly.

You took off to a bridge you saw, climbing up under it, hoping to hide there for a few hours. You heard the loud thuds of your father's footsteps, your heart pounding with each step. He discovered your slightly mangled bike against a tree, and once he realized you were gone, he cried. You’d not heard him cry since your mother's funeral, it almost made you come out of hiding. You knew his sorrow wouldn’t last, the moment it dispersed he’d be the same man as always.

Your father had finally given up his search for you, not like he cared much anyway. His daughter was ‘one of them queers’ as he’d say. He couldn’t stand people like that, but you were his daughter. He needed to find you, he needed to help you. He knew a woman, Natasha Romanoff.

Natasha was the pastor of the local church. She hadn’t been preaching there for a while, but in her short time she’s ‘helped’ so many young men and women. Now of course her time was spent more catered towards teenagers, but she would be more than willing to help you.

Once night settled in, darkness clouded your eyes. You knew your father wouldn’t get anyone out to look for you, so you figured you’d move at night. You had to get away, and fast.

You stepped onto the main road, your small flashlight in hand that barely worked. The thick mid-June air made sweat slick your body as you walked along the gravel road. No one to your knowledge loved this way, or so you thought.

You followed the small road for what felt like an eternity, your thin tank top clung thickly to your skin. Your overheated weary body fell to the ground, you slumped over laying on your side. Salty hot tears spilled down your face. Thoughts of hatred filled your mind.

How could you disappoint your father like this? How could you betray god like this? a you felt disgusted, so disgusted that as your tears ran you began to heave. Thick bile spilled from your mouth.

If only you could just stop it all, end all your suffering right now. You wouldn’t even hesitate.

You had laid in the spot for what felt like hours, wishing some animal would find you. What found you was even worse.

The sound of a car engine, and squeaky breaks stirred you. Bright headlights blinded you. You wanted to run, you figured now someone had found you and would return you to your father.

The soft crunches of gravel echoed in your ears; a figure approached you. They leaned down and you got a good look at her face. Natasha Romanoff.

“Hey sweetheart, what in the world are you doing out here? What’s happened to ya? Oh my goodness, you’re all bloody laying in a mess of vomit. Let me get you to my house” As she tried to help you to her car you kicked and squirmed.

Loud cries of no came from you, and Natasha was beginning to become impatient. As you thrashed your body around, trying to escape the woman who would bring you to your doom, you speared blood on her spotless suit. She finally had it with you, her fist struck a heavy blow across your face. Your mind went foggy and your eyes dizzy, eventually you lost consciousness.

“If you would’ve just cooperated, I wouldn’t have had to do that.” Natasha said through gritted teeth. She picked up your limp body and carried you to her truck, softly placing you in the seats next to her.

She drove down the road until she reached another small road, turning down it. No one knew about her second life, her home hidden away in the woods. She wasn’t who everyone thought she was. In fact, she was what everyone deemed evil.

She pulled up next to a small trailer house and stepped out of her truck. Natasha stepped around to the other side, pulled you into her arms carrying you bridle style into the house. She brought you to a broken-down couch that reeked of cigarettes.

Natasha walked off to her small room to change out of her dirty, bloodied clothes. She trudged to small refrigerator to grab a beer, cracking it open and taking a big drink.

As she made her way to the couch where you were, an idea popped in her head. She peeled your tank top off your body, revealing your bra. She examined your chest and stomach, dried blood and dirt smeared on your delicate skin.

Natasha unclipped your bra, slipping it off your arms throwing it off. Her hands grope at the soft flesh of your chest. She kneels down, so she can get closer to your breast. Her mouth latches onto your nipple, licking and sucking.

You began to finally regain consciousness, once you realized what was happening your eyes shot open. “No stop! Get off of me!” You shouted, trying to wrestle the older woman off you. She grabbed your wrist in her hand, pinned them onto the arm rest of the couch.

“No baby, you need me. See.” She slipped her hand into your shirt, gathering your slick on her fingers. She removed them and showed you her fingers wet with your arousal, “See baby, now be a good girl and let me fuck you.”

Her hands unbuttoned your shorts and slipped back into your panties. Her rough fingers rubbed at your clit, then she slipped two into your dripping cunt.

A loud cry and moan left your mouth, tears spilled from your eyes. “See baby, it feels so good doesn’t it. Tell me it feels good.” She rasped as she pumped her fingers in and out of you. You weakly nod your head, but Natasha wasn’t satisfied. “No, I want words. I want to hear you say it feels good.”

“Fuck! I-it feels good Natasha.” She chuckled, “Such a dirty mouth.” She curled her fingers up into the right spot, your legs trembled and your back arched up into her. “Fuck ‘m goin’ to cum!” You moaned out, as your juices gushed onto Natasha’s fingers.

She slipped her fingers into her mouth, sucking off your slick and moaning around her digits at your taste. “Fuck baby, you taste so good. I wanna taste you from the source, but we can do that another time. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You nodded and she helped you stand. You laid your head on her shoulder as she walked you to the bathroom. She readied the water as you slipped yourself out of your shorts. You couldn’t believe you were giving into her; she was so tempting you couldn’t even fathom saying no to her. Like a presence luring you in, like the devil themself.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about pretty girl?” She asked you. “Nothin’.. thank you thought. For this, it’s real kind of you.” She smiled, “Oh it’s nothin’ darlin’, it’s my job.”

You slipped into the warm water, and Natasha began to scrub the dirt off you. She’d give you the occasional kiss on your face, she just couldn’t help it. She’d had her eye on you for a while, she got pretty lucky tonight.

“I’ll keep you safe, don’t worry.” She spoke up, “What?” You questioned her, how would she know? “Your father already spoke to me, but don’t worry. Stay here with me, let me take care of you. I won’t say a word to him.” You nodded, “Okay, promise?” She grinned, “I promise.” She placed as soft kiss of your head, then pulled the plug.

Natasha wrapped the towel around your body and took you to her room. “Here why don’t you put these on, and I’ll grab you a sandwich. Is peanut butter okay?” You smiled and nodded.

Once you had put the clothes on she gave you, Natasha had returned with a bottle of water and the sandwich. “Eat this then we can go to bed, I bet you’re exhausted.” She said as she got into bed, motioning for you to join her. “I am.”

You finished eating, and snuggled up with Nat. She hummed you to sleep, whispering sweet nothings to you. She placed a kiss on your scalp and spoke soft words, “I won’t let anything hurt you.”

You felt safe with Natasha, you still weren’t sure what changed in you. You knew you could finally be comfortable with your life though.

Masterlist

[holylulusworld]

Band-aids

Summary: Your alpha needs you.

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Warnings: a little injury, dramatic omega, overprotective omega, fluff, pregnant omega

“Doll?! Y/N, where is the sanitizer?” Bucky calls for you from the bathroom. “Baby? Omega?”

Your alpha gasps as you storm into the bathroom. Your eyes are wild, you’re panting heavily, and your scent changed. Bucky can smell it; you’re worried about him.

Bucky watches you open the medicine cabinet, hating that you are worried about him now. “Y/N.” He tries to calm you. “Doll?”

“What happened? Where is your injury? Are you bleeding? Is it a cut? Do I need to call an ambulance?” As you turn around, the sanitizer, band-aids, and sterile swabs in your hands, you make your way toward Bucky. He sits on the edge of the large bathtub he installed some months ago.

“It’s nothing, omega. Just a scratch,” he mumbles. “You need to calm down. I can check on the cut, okay.”

“No! I’ve got this!” You step between his spread legs to get a better look at the cut above his left brow. “How did this happen? Did someone hurt you?”

Bucky knows you are about to cry and sighs deeply. You knit your brows together, debating whether to call a doctor or not.

“Omega, baby. I already cleaned the cut with water, and it stopped bleeding,” Bucky softly speaks to you. Your alpha takes the sanitizer out of your hands to clean the wound. “It’s a scratch. I’ll live.”

“I’ll decide if it’s only a scratch.” Carefully cupping Bucky’s jaw, you tilt his head to get a good look at the cut. You hum. He’s right. The cut is small, and the wound stopped bleeding. Still, you are worried.

“It was an accident. Alpine jumped at me, and I turned my head at the wrong moment. He hit me with one of his claws.”

“Alpine hurt you?”

“It’s nothing, doll,” Bucky gently places his hand on your swollen belly. “You shouldn’t worry so much about me. I’m still…a super-soldier and my healing is…”

“A wound is a wound, James Buchanan Barnes. A scratch or not.”

Bucky doesn’t want you to get mad at him or worry you even more. The truth is that he slipped on the ladder and hit his head.

“It’s almost healed, doll. I only wanted to clean it again before the wound closes completely.”

“Hmm…this doesn’t look like a scratch from Alpine,” you wonder aloud. “Alpha.” You use his presentation on purpose. “Did you lie to me?”

“I-uh…” Bucky starts to sweat. He clears his throat and tries to win a moment to find a better lie to explain what happened. “I—sorry. I wanted to fix the creaking door of the wall cupboard. Alpine jumped at me, and I slipped…and fell. I hit my head on the counter.”

“OH, MY GOD! We need to go to the hospital. Right now. I’ll get the car and—” Bucky stops you from dragging him out of the bathroom. He gets up and wraps his arms around you.

“Baby doll, I hit my head more than once over the years. I got punched, thrown around, and slammed into walls.” You inhale sharply. “I’m sorry for worrying and lying to you. I promise it’s nothing.”

“You got hurt. That’s not nothing, Buck.” You hide your face in his chest, stiffling a sob. “I can’t let you get hurt.”

“And I love you for it.” He nuzzles your hair. “Let’s get you to bed. It’s late and I scared you. Let me check on you and little Bucky.”

You nod against him. “What about the wound?”

“It’s closed, Y/N,” he whispers. Bucky kisses your forehead, and you relax in his arms. “I promise you don’t need to worry about me.”

Bucky smiles as you tell him you like taking care of him. He hums and smiles widely. 

Of course, he doesn’t want you to worry about him, but it makes his heart flutter knowing you love taking care of him…

Tags in reblog.

[crushedracket]

thinking abt art and pat going back to their dorm room after art had just won a singles match. art pushing patrick inside and letting their door barely shut before he is shoving patrick down onto his unmade bed.

“legs up patrick.”

where art is so fucking smug standing at the end of the bed looking down at patrick who had pushed himself up onto his elbows now. he was licking the inside of his cheek staring up at art who brought his aggression home from the court.

“being the big shot today huh? won one fucking game without me and now you’re in charge?”

patrick is usually the one fucking art, having his face pushed into the mattress with a large hand cramming his face up against the pillows they both slept on. arts back would be arched up involuntarily, he still got embarrassed when patrick fucked him like this. tonight art had won a game and he was the one to make patrick’s slobbery tip soak through his boxers already.

“put your fucking legs up patrick”

it was like on the court, patrick jumping onto art taking him down to the tennis court floor with his legs around his hips, this time - arts mean cock was bullying the stretch of patrick’s hole.

“shit, fuck art, don’t stop..”

patrick would hiss and grab the sweaty blondes curl, the headboard slamming against the wall. they had no idea how the room next to them hadn’t made any complaints yet.

art fucked him harder and faster, their bodies slick with sweat rubbing against one another while patrick’s moans got louder and so did arts. both of them were obnoxiously loud and vocal, patrick’s knees hooked on arts hips while the angel blonde forced patrick to take it. it was messy, their lips sliding back and forth and drool pooling down the sides of their mouths to form little wet spots on the bed by patrick’s neck. when they stare at one another there’s a fog casted over their pupils, patrick’s eyes barely open while watching him.

“you like that? yeah? say you fucking love it. you love being a fucking whore.”

art hissed down at him, his hips pulling back and then snapping back against patrick’s skin to punch a moan out of him. he was fucking patrick out, the gooey precum pooled at the dip of his abs. he would hum and reach up grabbing arts hair to yank his head back, it would end up in a fight for dominance. patrick trying to power bottom his way through it while art would shove him down and bite his shoulder to keep him in place.

both of them becoming breathless and squirming, begging for a release, patrick staring up at the blonde, eyebrows knitting into one another.

“god fucking yes, make me cum. make me cum - uh huh, yes yes. make me cum so fucking hard.”

patrick called out, feeling art shift and start to jack rabbit into his ass, he was a goner after that. as soon as he would stop and plant long hard thrusts into him he was a moaning mess and pouring thick white ropes up on his chest with a cry.

“yeahhh, take that fucking dick. cum over this shit, yeah make a big mess.”

art cooed through patrick’s moans and hooked his fingers in the brunettes mouth. he gave loud grunts, breathy begs before pulling out and using his left free hand to pump his cock trapping patrick under him and grinning as he painted patrick’s chest with his cum mixing the two. he tapped his dick against the mess bathing in how he pushed his fingers deep into patrick’s mouth so he could suck on the digits.

patrick spit them out after art came down from the high, grinning he sat back up on his elbows keeping his eyes locked on art smearing the mess on his chest with his own hand.

“fuck you,”

the brunette snarked.