#I’d also like a trigger warning for that too like damn!

[mxtxfanatic]

Ever read a series of translations by someone and… start to question their translation choices?

[racinggirl]

you always will be

a/n: As a dedication to our boy's FIRST FORMULA ONE WIN, here a story that hopefully will be appreciated and loved. It's very different from my usual stories, and it may need some sort of trigger warning or just a warning in general. We don't always get what we want, and life can really be a bitch. Everybody struggles, it might not always be seen. I'm here for you <3

Warnings: mentions of car accident, hospital, breakup, swearing, death, cemetery, and some fluff bc I'm not THAT cruel

Also, please leave a comment/reblog, anything that makes me feel like you absolutely loved this story. It can also be a tip, anything to make my writing better and more enjoyable for you, thank you

Enjoy 🧡

Winning a race was something he dreamt of. Winning a race meant all his worries disappeared like snow in the sun.

‘You can’t win, you always fuck up’

‘Russia 2021 was the closest you’d been to a win, you’ll never get that chance again’

‘You should have switched teams when you had the chance’

No more. He won, and he’d be damned if he would ever let any hate comment, any judging advice or any disrespectful tone push you further away from him than you already were. He won, but somehow it felt like he lost.

‘’Mate, I don’t get it. Help me understand, okay? You won your first Formula One race. You gave all of them haters a big fuck you. You proved them wrong. The team’s proud of you, everyone’s cheering you on.’’

It was true, everyone was proud of him, everyone cheered for him, chanting his name after the podium ceremony. Everyone. But one person.

‘’Hello? Lando?’’ Max seemed worried, he knew something was bothering his best friend, he knew him through and through. ‘’You’re confusing me, mate. What’s the matter? Aren’t you happy? You can’t be too hard on yourself now, mate, you wo-…’’

‘’It’s her!’’ He finally snapped, all the emotions he had bottled up and put in that jar, stashed away somewhere on the back shelf of his heart AND brain sneaked its way through and made a reappearance.

‘’I won! Yes, I fucking won! But at what cost?! I lost her mate! I won and she wasn’t here. That doesn’t mean I fucking won. I lost, I lost it all, I lost her…’’

Max let out a heavy sigh. He knew something was bothering his friend, and he had a slight feeling it would have had something to do with the girl that stole his heart. See, you and Lando go way back, and you’d always thought you’d end up together, whether it was in England, in Monaco, it didn’t matter, what mattered was that it’d always been the two of you together, till it wasn’t.

‘’Lando…’’ Here it was again, the 'I feel sorry for you, but you need to move on' speech, which sometimes Lando could appreciate, but not now, not at a moment like this. However, he remained silent.

‘’Look, mate, I know it’s hard, okay? You.. You’ve dreamt of this moment for years, and I’m sure she’d have been by your side in all those dreams, but…’’

‘’But reality is, she isn’t. I know Max, I know.’’ Lando ran his face through his hair, then over his face. ‘’I’m going to get a shower.’’

‘’Lando..’’

‘’I’m gonna shower, Max, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave and let me fucking shower!’’ Lando snapped, he never did, but today was full of too many emotions he couldn’t handle, too many mixed emotions that made the bucket spill over.

Raising his arms in defence, Max stepped back and nodded, slowly. He knew Lando needed time, but tonight was the after party, Zak had scheduled the flight for this evening back by a day, which meant they were planning on partying all night long.

‘’No, Lando, it’s not okay!’’ Your hands rose up in the air, toward your hair as you tugged on it, gently, but enough to let your frustrations out. ‘’It’s not okay, how is this okay?’’

‘’I… We’ll make it work, I promise you we’ll mak-‘’

‘’Stop trying to fix everything! Some things just can’t get fixed, okay?!’’

Lando and you were like two puzzle pieces that fit, perfectly fine. But what happens when one day, the piece that made those two pieces of the puzzle once a whole, disappeared. Broke off. Got thrown away which made it almost impossible for those two pieces to ever become whole again.

You loved him, more than anything in this whole entire world. You were determined to give up everything you ever had to be with him, to support him through thick and thin and you would never. Ever. Give up on each other...

‘’It’s been 4 months, give him some time.’’ Pietra’s reassuring hand made its way to Max’ shoulder.

It’d been 4 months since you and Lando broke up. You’d said your goodbyes at the airport after the two of you decided it was best to part ways. Lando tried almost everything to keep you at his side, but he knew that loving also meant letting go. That was the hardest part of a breakup, though, but he’d manage. Or so he thought.

You were lying when you said the breakup hadn’t torn your heart apart. It felt like it went through a shredder and every time you’d tried to pick up a piece and place it back, it didn’t fit. There were pieces missing, some things were upside down, backwards, or not even in the right place. It was heart-breaking.

Your breakup was something that nobody had seen coming, the fans, your friends, heck, not even the two of you saw it coming. You had always been different, but that didn’t stop you. Where you loved to stay at home and read a book, Lando loved to go out with his friends, plan his schedule full of events and parties. You’d join him, every now and then, but you preferred staying home.

Until you didn’t. But then it was too late.

‘’My parent’s need me back home.’’ You explained, the warm cup of tea in your hand preventing you from shivering. You and Lando were outside, watching the snow fall down the sky and onto the grass of his back yard in London.

‘’Alright, I can come if you want me to, I’m free till-..’’

‘’No, Lando, they need me back home, permanently.’’ You let out a shaky sigh, tears prickling behind your eyeballs as you kept your gaze focussed on your tea.

You had lived with Lando for almost 3 years now, the two of you dating for more than 5 years by the time you moved in together. Your parents knew his parents, and so the ball went rolling till it came to a stop in front of the two of you.

‘’What? But…’’

‘’I know.’’ Your voice was barely a whisper, the tears that you were desperately trying to hold back now made its appearance. Your parents were sick, both of them. You loved them more than anything, so leaving them and going to London, then to Monaco with the love of your life made you both happy and sad.

‘’No, Y/N, baby listen please, we can make it work. Okay? I’ll come over every month, we’ll do it together, I can…’’ But he knew everything he was saying was a lost cause. Your parents needed you, and as much as he wanted you to be with him, he knew you loved your parents. He’d never forgive himself if you staying with him meant you’d barely see your parents again.

‘’You know we can’t. We’ve been over this before.’’ Your voice was breaking more and more every word. ‘’It’s okay.’’ You whispered, the tea in your hands not being enough to keep you warm anymore. ‘’It’ll be okay…’’

‘’… on your win. And let’s make this party one to remember!’’ Cheers were hearable in the entire club, Lando being one of them. He laughed, partied, and celebrated. He won, he couldn’t ignore that, but that didn’t mean he didn’t think of how it could have been.

His job was hectic, of course. Being a Formula One driver – a race winning Formula One driver – meant events, races, meetings, and mostly, fame. You knew that if Lando would have stayed with you, if you would have done what he wanted – which was coming over once every month, it would bring attention to you and indirectly, to your parents, who could not use the attention at all.

After you and your parents got in a horrific car accident a few years after you and Lando started dating, the media was all over it. You barely had a chance to recover before the media would send you emails; press would be in front of your house and Lando’s interviews were all about how you and your parents were doing. It wasn’t healthy, at all. The press that did those things soon got boycotted by his fans, but that wasn’t the point here. They were there, they took away that bit of privacy you’d loved and cherished even more when Lando got more well known in the racing industry. When he joined Formula One.

You recovered completely – thankfully – but your parents, that was a whole other story. Both in a coma, one worse than the other, and the survival chances were low. Miraculously though, they woke up. The first 6 months, they had to stay at the hospital. Their wishes were to go home, so after 6 months, the hospital arranged things here and there so they could recover at home.

However, 2 years after the accident, you got the worst news possible. The car accident you and your parents were in caused your parents to both have brain damage, severely. They would need 24/7 care, and they would not get better. It was the worst possible scenario, but Lando was always there for you.

You just couldn’t do it, not with his fame, his busy schedule, your work. You worked from home, something you rearranged the moment you recovered from the car accident. It was the best option; you’d be able to work whenever you wanted, you could join Lando for his races. You could work from Monaco, England, it didn’t matter. You could work at home whenever Lando had a triple header, so you could take care of your parents whilst working from your laptop.

‘’You know they need me, and I love you so much, I…’’ The tears were streaming down your face after you had finished packing everything from Lando’s apartment – you were leaving.

‘’Shh..’’ Lando’s tears had dried on his cheeks, the sight of seeing you pack all your clothes in suitcases was the worst thing he’d ever seen. ‘’I know, sunshine, I know, but it’s okay. We’ll be okay.’’ He mumbled with the sorest throat from crying. He knew there was no more ‘we’ after you stepped out of that door. It was a commitment you made to each other.

‘If I need to go back and take care of them, move on. I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life waiting for me because I don’t know how long that’s going to take. I can’t expect you to put a hold on your life and come with me. You have a career, and I need you to put that on number one, be selfish, please.’

He always responded with the same thing. ‘’It doesn’t matter, you are my number one, you always will be.’’

‘’Lando Norris, your number one!’’ The music was pounding in his ears, the smile he had put on for this evening was fading slightly. When there was no camera around him, he’d let it drop, what was there to smile about?

Three months later

Moving on from a breakup was one thing, moving on from a breakup in which both individuals still loved each other but had to let go was another. Moving on from a breakup after finding out your parents had 2 more months to live, was impossible.

Your parents passed away 4 months ago, 3 months after you and Lando broke up. It was the hardest period of your life, and at some point, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to live the life you’d known for so long.

You’ve thought to yourself multiple times, why not go back to Lando? Tell him your parents passed away and everything would be okay. But that’s not the first thing that crosses your mind after your parents pass away. Especially not within the first four months of them being gone.

The number of times you’ve gotten close to pressing call on your ex-boyfriend’s number had been too many to count, but you couldn’t get yourself to do it. What were you going to say?

‘Hey Lando, yeah, my parents passed away, so I don’t have another thing to do, let’s get back together?’

Yeah, no. Not a chance.

You’ve watched his race win so many times it almost felt like you were there. You could imagine what it would have been like to be there, knowing the crew and drivers.

Why hadn’t you called him yet? Or why hadn’t you tried to congratulate him, reach out to his friends? No idea, you were still in that grieving state and you weren’t sure if you were going to break out of it.

That was until, one day, you saw this quote. It’s stupid to think one quote can change one’s perspective on things, but this one did.

‘If you don’t do it now, don’t regret it later.’

It was hard, doing the things you did, but not impossible. Impossible was getting over the death of your parents AND not having the one person you’ve loved more than anything not be there to help you through it.

So, you did it. You got in that car, which was something you’ve been avoiding after the accident, till Lando helped you get back into it. Your fingers dug into the leather of your father’s car, the one they left to you. Just like they left everything to you, the house, the money, the company.

A weak smile appeared on your face, so many memories in just one movement, one moment. The road was long, far, you had to stop at a hotel for a night of sleep before continuing your lonely road trip to London. Back to him. Because if you didn’t do it now, you would regret it later, and that’s something you couldn’t live with.

Another long day at the factory, more meetings, more shaking hands, interviews, you name it. His feet dragged him through the entire factory, not once, but three times already – and it was just lunch time. Things were better, he still missed you, but he was starting to accept it, just that, though, because moving on was impossible for him.

It wasn’t when one of the mechanics he always had lunch with called your name, that he turned his head so fast it would have almost gotten him a whiplash from the force and the speed. Your name, you were there, here.

A weak smile appeared on your lips. It wasn’t an easy choice, contacting Max, ignoring all his questions because you needed to see where he was, where the man you loved – and never stopped loving – was. It was bold, he might have moved on, gotten a new girlfriend, but you dug around the internet and didn’t see any signs of that being the case.

‘’Hey..’’

He was a race car driver, so he was fast, – very – fast. But the speed of which he got up and ran to you was another level. Your arms didn’t hesitate once. They found their way back around his neck, his positioned at your waist as always, and he looked into your eyes for a brief second, just to check, just to make sure that what he was about to do was okay. It was more than okay.

Your lips melted together instantly, his soft, warm lips immediately welcomed your slightly colder – due to the air-conditioning in the car – and even softer ones in a heartbeat. It felt good, it felt so good, you lost track of time, place and it was just the two of you in this moment. You did not regret it.

‘’Congratulations on your win, champ.’’ Your breath was a bit more rapid, your voice a lot hoarser than you would have liked it to be, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you had found your way back to him, like you always would have.

4 years later

It was no longer impossible. It was hard, for sure, but the moment you stood in front of their gravestones, your hand intertwined with his and a weak smile on your lips, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

‘’Mom, dad..’’ You whispered, head resting against Lando’s chest as he pressed a delicate kiss to your temple. Your hand rested on top of Lando’s, who had a protected arm around you, his hand rubbing small circles on your stomach. You played with his ring for a few seconds before you swallowed the lump in your throat. You looked up at your husband, who gave you a reassuring smile as you placed the tiny shoes on top of their gravestones.

‘’You’re gonna be grandparents…’’

[no-nameno-face]

Taken Care Of Audio (read story first)

TAKEN CARE OF (WITH AUDIO)

Pairing: Reader x Ellie Williams

Summary: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, minors do not interact. You will be blocked. Ellies had a long, hard day on patrol, and after stitching her up she requests some TLC. 

Warnings: Smut heavy, sub!reader, dom!ellie, face riding (E!receiving), oral (E!receiving), masturbation (R!), cum eating (kinda)? Praise kink, minor blood kink, pain kink, stitches, boob play (E!receiving), first time smut writing, did not proof read (but probably should have...)

Author's Notes: Soooo I've never written smut before, lmfao. I made the audio first, for my thirsty Ellie girls on tiktok but this audio got a bit… out of hand (wayyy too graphic) so I didn't want to post it on there. I had a whole scenario in mind with the audio so I figured I might as well write it down and share it here. I am also very obsessed with Ellie receiving so I subconsciously brought that to life while editing the audio. I know it's not great, but it was very fun to make and write soo.. Please be nice to me, I'm sensitive. Lol. (I put in the story when the audio clip applies, the story starts with context) I’d like to improve my writing cause this was a good time so any advice would be appreciated!!

I hear the door downstairs creak open and shut, a bit louder than normal. I can track the footsteps marching to the stairs and I listen with a small smile as the thuds make their way up. I hear soft profanities getting closer. Ellie is home. 

Sitting on our bed I turn my head right in time to see the door open, grinning at her as she walks in. She has that crease in her brow that I recognize as her tell-tell sign that she had a shit day. She shoots me a sly glance before looking away to take her flannel off leaving her in a white tank, dirty and disheveled she pulls it over her head. 

My eyes trace down her back, scarred and bruised. Muscular, and toned. Heart flutters, and a familiar heat builds. It's crazy how after all these years just seeing her still triggers these primal feelings. She just does something to me. She always has. My eyes stop wondering when I see a deep fresh cut following the curve of her hip. 

“Shit els? What happened” I get up and pace towards her keeping my eyes on the wound. 

She bends over pulling her shoes off, losing her balance a bit and mumbling a frustrated “fuck” under her breath. Now behind her, I prod at the gash and she swears again. I can feel her flinch. 

“I'll go get the stitches, sit down.” I say pulling her to the bed. She hits the bed with a thud and leans her elbows onto her knees.Shaking her head “it's not that bad babe, im fine.” She looks up at me and gives a half-hearted smile.

“I know you're fine,” I say, giving her a gentle look “I just don't want it to get infected, okay?” 

“Anything you say doc” she says with a smirk before turning to address the cut herself. She touches it lightly and winces when her fingers make contact. I head to the bathroom across the hall from our room and grab the small white kit from the medicine cabinet, and make my way back to our room. She's still sitting at the end of the bed, now rolling her neck side to side. 

I plop on the bed behind her, “okay, are you gonna tell me what happened now?” trying to distract her as I begin stitching the gash closed. Her back flexes and I hear her sharp intake of breath. Heart flutters. 

“Fucking stalkers. I hate those things” she says, shaking her head and looking up to the ceiling. “I was on patrol,”

“With Jesse right?”

“Don't remind me,” she says with a scoff that is cut off by another huff as I add a new stitch. Damn. Every breath in sync with the sutures releases a morbid butterfly into the pit of my stomach.  “Yeah, I was on patrol with jesse. We were checking out that one restaurant by the lodge, and I found an entrance to the attic. That place has been cleared out for like forever, so I went up on my own and got jumped by a stalker.” she shrugged her shoulders. “Fucking thing nailed me into an old piece of plywood. Piece of shit.” I tie her last stitch off, and give her a gentle pat to tell her she was finished. I got up and made my way to the bathroom to put the kit back.

I turned in the doorway on my way out, “Maybe you should’ve been more careful.” She swings her head at me with squinted eyes. I shrug and turn, heading to the bathroom “just saying!” 

“Fuck off” she calls back, I lightly laugh.

Back in the bedroom, she's lying on her stomach, head resting on her hands. “And then of course Jesse had to give me a fucking lecture about not going anywhere on my own, team communication! All that bullshit.” She turns onto her side propping herself up with one arm, “I’m just so fucking over it.” she looked absolutely exasperated. Oh how I love her dramatics. I sit facing her and her free hand falls to my hip. She looks at her hand, then up to me. Those green eyes, familiar and warm. Home. I smile at her. 

“That sucks. I'm sorry. I mean Jesse should know by now, there's no getting through that thick skull of yours. What's a lecture gonna do?” I smirk at her.

“Ouch.” she sneers at me, one brow up. She lets out a quiet laugh, and looks back down to her hand on my waist. “Thanks for stitching me up babe.”

“You know I don't mind.” I say casually. She smiles, an inside joke painting a picture on the walls of her thoughts. 

“So weird that you're into that.” she chuckles

“I'm not into that.. I just..” her eyes darted to mine. My heart pounded in my ears. She's right, but it was just so blunt. “There's just something about a strong woman who needs my help.” I say fawning innocent eyes, partially joking, but subconsciously egging her on. She sees right through me.  

She raises her eyebrows, taking her hand from my hip and pushing herself up so she's sitting opposite of me. She smiles, “so stupid.” her eyes drift down to my lips, then back to me. I feel red flush my cheeks. Her gaze darkens slightly, noticing. She tilts her head looking at me. “I mean it's okay that you are, i'm not kink shaming” Her hand meets my thigh, electric, and she gives me a sideways smile. I gape at her, trying to make light of the tension building between us.

“So you like taking care of strong women? Yeah?” she says quietly with a smile in her voice as her eyes trace down my body to her hand. Her thumb started circling the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. “Funny, you're normally the one that begs to be'' she looks up at me teasingly “taken care of.” Fuck. I feel heat pool in my belly. My knees squeeze together by their own volition. She feels it and her teasing gaze turns to something else as her eyes shift to them. She bites her lip subtly. This woman. 

Her hand moves to the button of her pants, “well i did have a hard day,” she undoes it and glances at me with an evil smile. “And since you enjoy taking care of strong women” she pulled on her zipper. “Mind doing me a favor?”

Jesus Christ.

“What do you have in mind?” I say, wide eyed. I try to sound cool but my voice comes out hungry. Starved. I watch the switch flip in Ellie's eyes at my words. 

“Take your shirt off.” she demanded with raised brows, and before I could think I was pulling her baggy shirt I was lounging in over my head. I'm left sitting there topless, with nothing but my black underwear on. She rolled famished eyes over my bare skin for what seemed like an eternity. Her eyes settled back on mine. I fidgeted my hands in my lap, feeling suddenly too vulnerable. She leans in slowly without breaking eye contact and my breath catches. Inches from me she whispers “Take off my pants.” 

Immediately I am in her service, at her beck and call. She knows all she has to do is ask. I'll do anything for her. She leans back onto her hands and lifts her hips slightly as I peel her jeans down the soft, yet lean, curves of her hips. Down her thighs, over her knees, and then calves, my eyes tracing every line of her legs. I toss them on the floor, and look back up to her awaiting further instruction. Her eyes are smiling with a dark inflection. 

“Lay down.” I looked at her confused, thinking I was the one taking care of her. Her tone was not a question however, so I obliged. I centered myself on the bed and pulled the nearest pillow under my head, keeping my eyes on her as she stood up and took her white boxers off. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of her. Pretty, untamed. My knees squeeze, I don't try to hide it. She looks at them, and scans back up to my eyes. She stares into me as she walks around the bed to my side. I bite at my nail anxiously. 

“I want you to take care of me, make me feel good m’kay? Can you do that for me?” she asks with a small smile. I nod.

She looks over me once again (START OF AUDIO) “fuck, you look so pretty.” She climbs onto the bed, looking at me like prey to a predator. “Be a good girl for me” she whispers, as she swings one of her legs over my head. Shit, I get it now. Her pussy meets my lips and she lets out a soft “fuck” at my eager mouth. My arms wrap around her thighs, hands gripping soft flesh. She starts to move, pleasuring herself on my tongue. She moans softly, “needed this” she says desperately as her eyes drift close and her head drifts to the ceiling. Her taste envelopes me, her wetness growing by the second with the addition of my saliva wetting her folds. 

“Okay,” she moans, picking up her pace, grinding against my face. She looks down at me, before her eyes dart shut “There!”  I feel her body pulse at the peak of her thrusts and I know she's found her spot. Her bud flicking roughly over my tongue. “Oh shit.. There. There we go” she continues at her pace for a moment. Her pulsing getting stronger. Her eyes snap open and peer at me “Jesus, you feel so good.” she says as her head rolls back and her eyes closed again. She continues her rhythm as I pull my arm from under her leg and skim my hand up her body “okay” she says lost in the sensation. My palm cups her right breast and I squeeze impatiently, then rub a loving thumb over her nipple, circling it. “Damn… yeah” she sighs then her hand meets mine and squeezes the sensitive flesh with me “Baby just like that.” she bites her lip with a whispered “fuck” as she rides my face. 

Her moans and the graphic sound of her wetness fill the room. I reach my other hand down into my underwear and begin circling my own clit firmly, unable to avoid the tension building within my own body. “Fuck me.” she whines into the air, before looking down to me with adoring eyes, “that's my good girl.” her eyes tighten, “lets go” she whispers as she begins to grind harder and faster into my mouth. “Come on.” My hand on my core meets her pace. “Good. There. Okay. There we go” I love how she talks mindlessly when we fuck. Her voice is enough to bring me closer to my own apex. I begin moaning beneath her, unable to contain my own pleasure. She looks down at me “shhhh shh shh shh” she hushes as she pulls my hand from my aching clit before I can reach my undoing. I whimper in disappointment as she pulls my arm from beneath her leg and takes my other one from her chest before pinning them above my head in her strong hands, deepening her weight into my face. “Shut up” she corrects. 

Her rhythm continues and I can tell the new pressure she's added is building her quickly. “God damn.” she says as her eyes squeeze shut. “Okay” That same wrinkle between her eyes deepens again, this time out of pleasure. She rides harder pushing the back of my head further into the pillow. Her moans grow louder, more animalistic. her hands on my wrists tighten to the point that I am sure that there will be a mark. “Holy fuck” she gasps. She pushes hard against me and I can feel the pulse intensify, her sounds grow and grow until suddenly her hands let go of my wrists and bury deep into my hair, pushing me even further into her just at the right time when her head falls back in quiet breathy moans, she rides out her high on my mouth. Her legs shaking and clit pounding as I suck against it,  encouraging her. Tasting her. Worshiping her. She lets out a whimpering breath at the end of her climax and looks down at me beneath her. “Oh my god babe.” She slowly lifts off of my face and I see her flinch slightly at the air touching her sensitivity. She takes a breath before looking at me with a lazy smile.

 “All right. Your turn.”

[angels-fantasy]

Girl let me just say your fics are superb and thanks for the quirkless child one I requested with Bakugou! I promise I’ll leave you be for a bit in a second, but… post final war; everyone who has came out alive clearly is suffering from injuries, health issues, and trauma (both physical trauma and mental trauma) no? So how about a Bakugou x Reader with a reader who was essentially Bubbly, Firery and Energetic, to after the war who is exhausted, is often having nightmares over Bakugou cause well he nearly died, sleep deprived and basically depressed because I can guarantee nobody should be sane after a war, especially not children like our lovely highschoolers. Please make it angst to comfort, because seeing how Bakugou also has developed I’m sure as sad as he would be he would also be understanding and try to be comforting (despite his awkwardness). I’d appreciate if you could get this done to be as close as possible (and maybe just a little long than the one I requested last time- no pressure) BUT if anything you find in my request may be too triggering or something feel free to make it less triggering and change it, I just ask if you can keep the same vibe and theme with the reader who changed drastically after the wars and is getting comforted by Bakugou, Angst to comfort (duh), thank you so much, and I hope I’m not troubling you too much! — An anon who enjoys suffering, angst, and comfort ((SAC) Anon); (get it? Suffering, Angst, Comfort, SAC, wait that has a good ring to it, damn I have a new alias, I’ll shut up now)

I'm Okay, As Long as He's Here (Request)

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Details/Warnings: reader has a panic attack and nightmares!! pls be weary of this. angst to fluff, well, my attempt at angst lol

Word Count: 1k

thank you for your request and the support :D it means a lot to me 🩷 btw don't ever feel like you're bothering me or like you need to leave me alone! i like talking to everyone :) also this is a good little plot, but im not the best at writing angst but this is helping me improve i think, so please tell me how i did! i really hope you like it SAC anon hahah

Before the war, you were a different person. Looking at you now, no one would ever guess you were once a bubbly, out going person. But Katsuki knew you were, and sometimes, he missed the old you.

It was hard to watch you wake up crying in the middle of the night from your horrible nightmares of the war. Some being about his near death experience, and others being about him dying in other ways.

Some nights, you didn't sleep at all, and it was really showing.

"Hey, keep your head up. I don't want you to fall asleep." Katsuki said. It was already months after the war, so you were all back at school, but you were one of the few students that was struggling the most.

He definitely has his struggles too, but he knew he had to be there for you, because yours were much worse.

You opened your eyes wider, trying your best to stay awake. "Sorry. I couldn't sleep last night."

"You havin' nightmares again?"

You nodded, he sighed.

"Come sleep in my dorm tonight. You sleep better with me and you know it."

You agreed and continued trying your best to stay awake for the rest of the day. Occasionally, Katsuki would have to wake you up or remind you to stay awake. The lack of sleep made it hard to focus, especially in Hero Training. Thankfully, Mr. Aizawa and the rest of the teachers were understanding of the students who were struggling.

Once school was over it felt like a weight was lifted off of your shoulders. You knew you had homework to do, but right now you'd rather sleep. Or at least attempt to. Since you were going to be with Katsuki tonight, you were probably only going to have one nightmare. Plus, he'd be there to comfort you.

Following your boyfriend to his dorm room, you immediately changed into some of your clothes that he had there for you, and then laid down on his bed.

For a while, you just silently watched him as he sat at his desk and did his homework, something you should also be doing.

"What're you starin' at?"

You smiled, but not as brightly as before, "I'm just admiring you."

He huffed, "Good, I'm awesome."

Rolling your eyes, you said, "And there he is."

He laughed and continued doing his homework. You just continued watching him, because it was something that comforted you. It was a reminder that he was okay and alive.

Knowing he was safe right in front of you, you fell asleep.

...

You didn't know what time it was, but it must've been late since the room you were in was dark.

You clutched your chest as you sat up in bed and breathed heavily, feeling tears prick your eyes.

Of course, you had another nightmare again. This one in particular was about Katsuki, and he was in the arms of Shigaraki. You saw the villain use his Decay quirk on him, and your boyfriend began to crumble away but you were paralyzed in your dream. There was nothing you could do.

The nightmare felt so real and so scary, like they usually do. You felt so helpless and scared. The evil that emitted from Shigaraki and All For One was something you'd always remember.

You subconsciously began to rock yourself back and forth and made self soothing noises as you continued to have a panic attack. They never got easier, or less scary as time went on. It always felt like you were going to die.

Your panic must've woke Katsuki up, because you suddenly heard his voice calling out to you.

"Hey, hey! Breathe baby, you gotta breathe." He said.

You shook your head, "I-I can't! It hurts. I'm scared, I'm gonna die!"

He carefully grabbed your hands and held them in his. He took one of them and brought it to his chest near his heart so you could feel it beat.

"What is my heart doing right now?" He asked. This was a method he used to ground you during these situations, especially because he knew how you felt about him and his safety.

You looked at his chest, "Beating. Your heart is beating."

"Right. Now what do you feel here?" He asked, now placing a hand on the blanket that was on top of you guys.

"The blanket."

"What does it feel like?"

"It's soft and fluffy."

As he continued distracting you from your panic, you eventually calmed down. You were still crying a bit, but he held you in his arms as you let it out.

"He killed you Katsuki. I was so scared, and I couldn't do anything!" You cried into his chest.

He rubbed your back, "You know that shit isn't real, no matter how real it feels. I'm right here living and breathing. I'm safe, okay?"

You nodded and sniffed, "Okay." You placed a hand on his chest over his heart and felt it beat, the steady rhythm of it comforting you.

Katsuki grabbed that hand and kissed the palm of it, "Love you. I'll be here all night, 'kay?"

"I love you too. Thank you."

"It's no problem."

The next morning, you felt more rested than usual. It must've been because you only had one nightmare, which was an improvement.

You noticed you woke up before your boyfriend, so you just let him sleep a little longer while you got on with your morning routine. You had a lot of your own things in his room, including an extra toothbrush which you were thankful for.

When he eventually woke up, he walked over to you and hugged you tightly.

"You feelin' okay?" He asked.

You nodded as best as you could in his tight grip, "Mhm."

"Be honest."

"I am! I feel a lot better than last night." You insisted as you pulled away slightly, still keeping your arms around him.

He hummed and kissed the top of your head, "Mkay. Wanna sleep with me again tonight?"

"Yeah, I'll bring more clothes later."

He smiled, "'Kay. Let's go to class." He said and threw an arm over your shoulder, making you smile up at him.

Yeah, you knew things would be okay as long as he was around.

authors note

i hope you liked it! i'm sorry it was kinda short, i've been in a little writing stump but im trying to get out of it!

love ya 🩷

tags for bakugou fics: @doumadono @shonen-brainrot

[paddockbunny]

Repeat Offender

Summary : Charles is recently single and quickly finds himself in a "friends with benefits" situation with none other than his ex-girlfriend's best friend.

Rating : 18+, Mature

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x Reader

Word Count : 7, 345

Trigger Warnings : 18+, Mature & Adult themes, Angsty, FWB situation, PinV sex, Unprotected sex, Oral (female receiving), slight choking, c*m talk & language

Authors Note : Firstly, I had around five or six requests for a newly single charles or rebounding charles so I've amalgamated them all into one. Thank you for the inspo to all of those who requested something to do with this. I'm trying out some first person stuff on this one so although it's labelled as "reader" YOU are in fact the author/reader if that makes sense. I also don't mention Charles' ex by name and that is very much on purpose as I keep my blog as IRL WAG free as possible so none of my stories will feature any of their names, hope you can all understand why. Anyway, this is LOOOOOONG so it has not been proofread yet.

You know when you wake up but your not fully awake yet, you’re like conscious but not alert? Well, that was exactly how I was feeling as the room was ever so slightly spinning and the faint memory of strawberry daiquiri's and vodka shots were beginning to flash across my eyes. So was the deafening sound of the music, the ache in the arches of my feet from stupid heels and the feeling of hands creeping around my waist pulling my ass against a firm crotch while dancing. Then as I slowly crept more and more into consciousness I felt the slight ache from my thighs kick in and the feeling my body had been through it.

Finally, after summoning up the energy to do it, I managed to open my eyes. They felt heavy and dense and I realised there was no way I had made it home because I had slept in my make-up - and regardless of whatever state I was in I would always manage to stumble into the bathroom to at least wipe most of the night out greasepaint off of my face so the fact it was still firmly in place meant the worst. As my vision was struggled to focus I wriggled around in a rather comfortable bed and attempted to pull myself up without a wave of nausea lash upon me. Exactly how much did I fucking drink last night? But then as eventually my eyes concentrated on something and a very loud groan reverberated from my throat. The familiar bright coloured art work that hung from the white wall across from the bottom of the bed was like a vicious, unwelcome enemy. I had studied it far too many times to count and each time it got worse and worse. It was like the eyes of T. J Eckleburg in The Great Gatsby, but instead of the judgment of an inanimate object upon American society, this horrendous painting was judging my piss poor decisions of the night prior which lead me to waking up in this damn bed, once again. And as my stomach lurched I had to force myself to make sure I was in the bed of the man whom the awful painting belonged to.

At an almost glacier pace my head began to turn. Crawling up the sheet clad outline of a pair of calves, knees and up to big, broad thighs and into the covered - yet barely - crotch. The outline of his cock almost visible through the white cotton that was practically failing to protect his modesty. His hips were next, then the outline of abs which yeah ok - I can admit it, I’ve traced with my tongue before so sue me. Then I couldn’t do it any longer. I was just drawing things out. I snapped my head immediately up to his and yup! It was Charles.

“Oh fuck!” I groaned loudly and with an eye roll I drew my hands over my face. Listen, you might be thinking “he’s fucking hot as hell, probably an incredible shag and I’d love to know how big his cock is” but, it’s all the other stuff that goes along with these nights of drunken yet passionate sex with Charles that makes me sick to my stomach each time I wake up here. You see Charles had so much awkward baggage that spilled over into my own life and I really went through several stages of self loathing when I left his apartment and had the embarrassing walk of shame home the next day. “Good morning to you too.” He scoffed loudly but by this point I knew he probably felt as guilt-ridden and dismayed as I felt.

Silence had momentarily befallen us. All I heard was the quick typing of his thumbs hitting his phone screen. It was almost annoying. That incessant tap, tappy tappy tappy, tap, tap as he typed whatever was in his head into a text or whatever he was doing. I couldn’t help it, I rolled my eyes and thought how likely it was that he was probably texting one of his friends telling them how the pair of us had hooked up AGAIN! Most likely he was asking for their advice on how to get me out of his bed. Not that he needed any because there was no way in hell I felt like staying. I wanted to get out of here as badly and he wanted to kick me out. Just as I moved to sit upright a bit more and try search for my stomach lurched and I had to take a few deep breaths not to feel the effects of last nights alcohol. Something which unfortunately Charles noticed and as he asked if I was suffering from a the dreaded hangover, sarcasm laced thick in his voice.

“Why does this always happen? Why do we do this?” I sighed while letting out a long, drawn out exhale. The question hung in the air and I could feel Charles’ eyes suddenly burrowing into the side of my head. I knew there were words teetering on the tip of his tongue and could practically hear his brain working out a response that sounded appropriate for me but thankfully, he remained in silence. There was no doubt he would have been regretting whatever things happened last night as much as I was and yet, he didn’t seem particularly consumed by guilt. He seemed rather carefree right now so scoff I closed my eyes in an attempt to piece the puzzle together remember what the fuck happened last night.

The music was far too loud but the fourth fruity cocktail I currently clasped in my hand made me rather immune and numb to it. I danced just like all the other girls out in the middle of the crowded dance floor. Hips swaying side to side in time with the rhythm. Hair swishing around without a care in the world. Feet aching in stupid stilettos. To have looked at me in that moment anyone would be forgiven for thinking I was a party girl. One of those glamorous girls always out on the town, partying, blowing cash (boys and snow* too probably) but really I hated going out. I hated the stress of finding something to wear, doing the whole routine of make-up and hair and then feeling like I was in the middle of a cattle market. At least the men in Monaco happened to be rich and therefore no girls spent a dime all night from all the free drinks that would get bought. And the fact that someone in my group always seemed to know someone else in another and that meant VIP was inevitable. And I mean come on, who wouldn’t want to be sat in VIP?! Which was funnily enough, where Amelie was pulling me in the direction of and then I sighed when I saw why.

Sat in a booth was none other than Charles and his gang of buddies that I really wish would have been anywhere else in the world tonight and not in this nightclub. As soon as he looked around and saw me heading toward him I swear he rolled his eyes.

“Fucking hello to you too Charles.” I thought, muttering under my breath while I and rolled my own eyes back at him sarcastically. And that was when my mind flashed back to the last time we saw each other. It had been at that shitty dinner where I actually felt sorry for him having to sit the whole night flashing googly eyes at his ex girlfriend hoping she would notice him even though the night before he had had his cock shoved down my throat, me! The one he spent the entire time ignoring. But the thing was, I knew one thing he didn’t and that was she was already moving on with someone who might have been too close too home for him to even comprehend. Yet, with his attitude I said nothing and allowed him to remain in purgatory. Sad thing was, she never even so much as glanced at him the whole meal. Then I remembered what happened after, once everyone had drank heavily and shared cars home. It hadn’t been the first time (nor the second, third or fourth and was actually more like the eleventh or twelfth) that Charles had put the moves on me and I stupidly succumbed to his seductions. But now as I reached the table the thought of his hands being between my thighs, his fingers caressing my desperate clit with the door to his apartment wide open behind us in an utterly voyeuristic display - one that I would never have pegged him as the type to enjoy - danced teasingly through my thoughts. He slid into the booth a little more and nodded in the direction of the now vacant faux leather seat beside him for me to sit in. He looked good tonight and for once that wasn’t the alcohol in my system talking. He seemed to be in good spirits and I figured he must have been celebrating a good race. It was neutral ground so I thought it was something I could talk to him about. When I went to open my mouth to do exactly so, my words were swallowed by his; “Have you seen her recently?” Your mouth parted slightly before closing. You had to bite your tongue before you said something to the effect of “fuck off” or “fuck you” and quickly shook your head to respond to him. Then loudly from across the table one of his friends shouted loudly “shots” and thankfully it distracted Charles from pushing the conversation toward her like he wanted.

Several shots were taken and yet another strong strawberry daiquiri was being drunk while having as everyone sat at the table has as much of a conversation as possible over the loud thumping music. I raised my voice as I leaned forward to answer one of the questions Charles’ friends had asked me. We had met before and yet he did that typical male thing of forgetting who I was and therefore I had to tell him all over again much to my slight annoyance and dismay. But as I was explaining what I did for a living, I stuttered when suddenly I felt the flesh of soft fingertips ghost up and down my bare naked thigh. The action almost made me brake my calm, collected exterior. He couldn’t be serious? We had barely spoken since I sat down nearly an hour ago and as his thumb stroked up and down the skin of my inner thigh I glanced at him. He wasn’t even paying attention, he was doing it just for the sake of it, because he could. And so without a single thought I decided it was time to go and dance again. I wanted to put distance between him and I because we would only end up doing what was by now becoming a habit and falling into bed together.

As I grabbed Amelie and pulled her back to dance with me, I could feel the familiar pulsating throb from between my thighs at the thought of Charles. I tried to push the thoughts of him out of my brain as I began dancing and yet, it was a pointless task as all I kept thinking about was how badly I needed him and how he melted all of my annoyed thoughts of him away with a simple touch of his damn hand. The worst part was, just as Amelie and I settled into moving our bodies one of Charles’ friends rudely pushed between us. I was just about to argue and tell him to get lost when I suddenly felt hands creep around my waist. I didn’t need to look to know who they belonged too and I realised the intrusion in between me and my dance partner had been orchestrated.

“Running away from me?” Charles purred against the side of my neck. Why did he do this? Every single time we saw each other he always got underneath my skin. I hated him for it but I felt powerless against him and his cocky seduction techniques. His hands gripped my waist tighter as he pulled me back so I was flush against him. Our hips moving side to side while he got all the friction of my ass grinding against his crotch. “We said the last time was the last time.” “No. You did.” His words were more direct than I would have expected them to be. Almost like he was annoyed at me for implying I was about to turn him down - as if I could if I wanted too, just having the teasing action of his clothed cock so close to where I wanted it would have had me making a public embarrassment of myself right here in a nightclub. And without warning he used those lingering hands to turn me around to face him. “Let me take you home.” “No, Charles. We cannot keep doing this.” The sheer fact that when I spoke to him he was looking at my mouth instead of in my eyes made me want to kick him in the shin for being so vexing. But right as I was trying to convince myself to stand my ground against him he cast his eyes across my body and fuck, the things it did to me when he looked at me like that. “Charles, we’re playing with fire….”

“So? We’ll both burn together.” He shrugged nonchalantly. And I suddenly realised how we were no longer dancing and simply standing staring at each other while everyone else around us continued. In a regular situation - when alcohol wasn’t coursing through my body clouding my judgment - I would have felt self conscious but right now all I could think about was the fact he wanted me so badly he was out here making bold declarations. For a second the fact his first words to me earlier were about his ex girlfriend entered into my mind and a fleeting crushing feeling passed through my soul. He just wanted me to release his tension, not because he ACTUALLY wanted me. I zoned out briefly as I thought of how bad I always felt the next day and considered if I was strong enough to do it again. But as I was contemplating his hand travelled up to my neck and he made me look at him and I was gone. I wanted him to make me feel good.

How he managed to get us both out of the nightclub so easily I had no idea. His hand was wrapped around my wrist guiding me past hordes of people and out toward an exit. It took all but two minutes until we were in the back of a car heading back to his. It seemed too swift to me, too well thought out and I realised that he was so arrogant because he knew I would say yes and probably pre-arranged the car to pick us up. In that second I knew I should have been so pissed off and angry that he would think I was that easy but I let it slip again because I knew I was using him as much as he was using me. I liked the momentary, fleeting high he gave me. I was like a drug taker, he was the drug, and I was willing to take the short hits when I could. So I was every bit as bad as he was. Charles normally didn’t behave to politely in the back of the cars we took as we went back to his. His hands would be roaming, following suit with his mouth. He always made sure to light the match inside of me before we even got to the safety of his apartment. The fact he could be caught out, someone could tell, seemed to always be the furthest thing from his mind and so tonight, it was different. He sat further away and kept his hands very much to himself. And when I couldn’t help but glance across the car toward him and watched as his jaw seemed to clench I swallowed while nerves buzzed through my brain.

As soon as we got to his apartment building Charles called for the elevator and I couldn’t help but feel the same attitude radiating from him. It was the same attitude he had in the car and I thought about turning on my heels and leaving immediately. I didn't even know how to read him. Which meant I was so caught in the thought of trying to work him out that I missed the ding of the lift stopping on the lobby and sliding open. It wasn’t until Charles practically purred my name and held his hand out for me from inside the elevator that I snapped back into reality due to the look that filled his eyes. You knew it all too well. It was self assured, cocky confidence. He knew I couldn’t turn him down, I couldn’t turn his cock down, I craved it and what he could do with it too much. And so when my high heel clad feet crossed the marble floor and passed the iron thread hold of the lift I felt the surge of excitement buzz throughout my body.

The pair of us rode the elevator is silence but my hand remained firmly gripped in Charles’ and his thumb was delicately running over the back of my knuckles. It would be almost fucking romantic if there was any smidgen of a “normal” relationship between us. Now that I had registered the buzz of excitement I also felt the more steady and familiar hit of anxiety that went with it. It was pre-sex anxiety - that realistically I had no reason to have, this wasn’t my first rodeo (certainly not with Charles) but I still had it anyway. The silence would have been deafening to anyone else but right now I was kind of thankful for it. I didn’t want to chat because if I did I would feel guilt and I really didn’t want to feel guilty about what my body craved and desired above all else. The short ride up to Charles’ apartment ended when the lift door slid open and he gently pulled me out behind him. Fuck, I wish I had drunk more. Alcohol would have banished the unfair apprehension I was feeling. I leaned against the wall while Charles opened the door with his key. The curve of his shoulders made my mouth water. The thought of kissing his thick, strong neck while hearing the sound of pleasurable moans escape him sent a pulsating ache through my core. He pushed open the door and held it there with his hand, waiting for me to enter his abode first, ahead of him. And I mustered up all the confidence I could manage to saunter past him and glide into the hallway. The millions he took home from his career driving in fast circles paid off. Charles home was beautiful but like always, I wasn’t here to appreciate it.

Charles hands on my bare arms reminded me of that. He pressed against me from behind and I could feel his semi hard cock already straining against his jeans and I tried desperately to hold it back but a gasp escaped passed my lips as he moved my hair to the side to expose my neck to him. Fuck. The feel of his lips as they pressed delicate tender kisses against my flesh had my mind whirling. I pushed back into him more, instinct completely taking over, and a low groan rolled out of his parted lips and sent tingles up and down my spine. It was dangerous to have allowed myself to think it but I gave in and thought about how it would feel to have been his - properly, as a girlfriend - for all but a few fleeting seconds.

When Charles hands moved from my arms to my waist and I wasted no time. The alcohol came rushing back to me and I turned to him at breakneck speed. My lips finding his immediately. As my hands slowly glided upon the skin of his neck holding him to me. When I let out a small moan it was the sign he needed to start pushing me backward till my back pressed against a cold wall and his tongue pushed into my mouth. He tasted like the liquor he had consumed and as his tongue ran teasingly across my bottom lip he followed it with his teeth and it brought another moan from me, like he knew it would. Charles’ hands left my waist and I felt them slip down to my legs. His fingers skimming the outside of my thighs. I knew he wanted to push my dress up. He was growing impatient and that became very obvious when he yanked me away from the wall and pulled me through his house to his bedroom. The familiar surroundings welcomed me like a sneaky comrade. The walls practically smirked as I was pulled in by Charles. I could become accustomed to these plush surroundings if he saw me as more than a just a hook-up but that was a fucking dumb idea.

My dress was off faster than I knew what was happening. It was around my ankles on the floor and Charles was already making fast work of removing his shirt. His eyes hungrily fixed on my bare chest. He was practically wolf like as his eyes remained on my skin the whole time. I would have blushed if I had been less confident. “Take them off.” It was the first time he spoke since we had left the club. “You heard me.” He flashed his eyes down toward the thin scrap of black lace material that could barely behold the name of underwear. As my eyes travelled down to where his hands were working on ridding himself of his jeans I realised I wasn’t ready to allow him to have all the fun. “No.” I stated. “Take them off me.” My stomach flipped and I watched as a smirk disappeared from his face as quick as it appeared.

“That’s how you want it huh?” He abandoned trying to remove his jeans and his hand suddenly went to my neck and held me firmly before he used it to push me backward on to the bed. My heart hastily quickened. It hammered against my rib cage so quickly it began to hurt. I looked up at him full of expectation but he wasted no time in hooking his fingers around the sides of the only material left on my body and roughly pulling them down my legs and off completely. I watched Charles as he took me in. His eyes casting over and lingering in all the important areas. I bit my bottom lip as my own eyes mimicked his and I took in his perfectly sculpted chest and then his defined muscular abs. The lines on his hips that were line a tempting signal down toward his now erect cock, standing to full attention. He watched me watching him and cockily laughed. “Go on.” He tilted his head and I knew exactly what he was referring too. He wanted head. He wanted me to blow him. And I would have, I would have blown him till my jaw ached and throat couldn’t take anymore, but I reminded him that he wasn’t getting full control.

Much to Charles surprise, I pulled my ankles up and put myself on full display for him. I played him at his own game. If he wanted me to go down on him he had to do it first. I held his gaze and so when he laughed again I wasn’t so sure he was as willing to be a giver as much as a taker, but within a few agonising moments he proved me wrong. Charles was down on his knees and instantly pulled your legs up so you could rest them on his shoulders. And although it was something of an embarrassing confession to make, all of the times we had had sex, Charles had never gone down on me. Not once. So now that his head was between my thighs, mouth so tantalisingly close, eyes locked on to mine, I held my breath in anticipation. Charles gently ran his fingers up and down my dampening folds. I swallowed the breath that was caught in my throat as Charles finally licked a slow, teasing stripe that followed the pattern of his fingers moments earlier. He repeated the action over and over again. Using it to torment me. My hands grabbed hold of the sheets, fingers entwined in the high thread count duvet, when Charles began to pay attention to my pulsating, throbbing clit. Small, short flutters were mixed in with strong kisses. And then a loud exhale left my lips as he pushed two of his fingers inside me.

“Char….” I couldn’t get his name out. My breathing was erratic and all I could think about was what his mouth was doing. As his tongue continued lapping at my clit, his fingers curled up inside of me and Charles immediately found and started massaging that magical spot that made me gasp. And he continued even when I shoved my hands through his hair and gripped on for dead life. My eyes squeezed tightly shut as I felt the first high of an orgasm fast approaching. Swear words were all I could manage. My mouth going between wide open to get as much air as I possibly could and tightly shut with my top teeth digging into my bottom lip practically drawing blood. I was almost so lost in the beginning of the wave of euphoric pleasure that I missed the moan Charles made as he felt my walls start to convulse around his fingers. Fuck. How and why did I not beg for him to do this to me sooner? He was far too good at it. It was borderline obscene how good he was at it. And totally criminal that he had never gone down on me before. Right as I felt every nerve in my body begin to be ignited with the high of a climax Charles removed his mouth and in its place used the fingers of his other hand to draw rapid circles against my clit. The motion made me loose complete control of my mind and his name burst free from my mouth as wave upon wave of ecstasy crashed upon me. The high was undeniable. It took hold of my body and I felt myself quivering as he slipped his fingers out of me, covered in the product of my orgasm.

“Look at me.” Charles voice came quietly but strongly and I did as he requested. I opened my eyes and looked down at where he still remained, between my thighs. He held my stare as he ran the fingers he had brought me to orgasm with back up and down my now dripping folds. A small tremor shuddered through my thighs as he did so. And then with my eyes trained straight on his he raised his fingers to his mouth and licked them. It took a second to register the feeling that I felt in that moment but as he raised to his feet and I saw his cock rock hard, with its purpling tip already leaking pre-cum, I knew it was one that filled me with unashamed excitement. “Turn over.” He demanded and I relinquished the control I had won earlier so easily. Not because he wanted me too but because I wanted too. There was nothing in the world I wanted more than for Charles to fucking rail me into oblivion. I turned and got on all fours on the bed. Ass facing him. It was a position I had come to realise was one of his favourites. Sure he liked watching my boobs bounce as I rode him cowgirl and sometimes if he was feeling slightly more tired he’d fuck missionary, but Doggy was his favourite (like most guys). The momentary lapse of concentration earned me a firm thwack of his hand against the round flesh of my ass. I yelped and lunged forward and I felt the enjoyment radiating off of him. I doubted she let him do that, I doubted she would have enjoyed it. I moaned and after I wiggled my hips around a little he did it again so that a more audible whimper left my mouth.

“Fuck me…” I knew it was what he wanted to hear so I gave it to him. “Please, Charles….” I added more good measure and sure enough, he pulled my hips back and immediately ran his leaking cock over my sensitive folds to collect the mixture of his spit and my juices.

As he lined up at my entrance and pushed the head of his cock inside of me, teasingly slowly, I pushed back for more. It was an action that I knew he would have enjoyed and he groaned as he gave me more of himself. His hand splayed on my lower back and forced me down into the mattress more so I arched for him and then he gave me all of himself. He bottomed out and the stretch from his girthy cock had me once again gasping and gripping the sheets. He stalled for a moment - savouring the feeling no doubt - before he began moving. Slow at first. A steady but slow rhythm that I needed, rather than wanted, to quickly increase. Charles moaned loudly and paused for a second only to surprise me completely. “Your pussy is so fucking perfect. You, are so fucking perfect.” I knew he didn’t mean it in THAT way - he didn’t like me like that, I knew that and he didn’t even need to verbalise it - but his praise made me feel good all the same. I wriggled my hips again to urge him to move and when he did his pace increased. It increased until I was a panting writhing mess. I loved how big he felt at this angle and how he would alternate between giving me quick, short spanks and pulling my hair. And honestly I truly had to focus so I didn’t cum just yet. His cock continually hitting my g-spot could have made me see stars but I didn’t want to give in yet. I wanted more of him so I urged him on my moaning his name over and over and over again through heavy sighs. His hand wrapped itself around my hair once again and this time he pulled me back so my back was flush against him.

“Say my name again.” His voice was lower than I had ever heard it before. Lower than I ever thought possible. The hand that had been wrapped around my long hair was now around my throat, holding my in place against his body as he continued thrusting up into me. I couldn’t focus on words. I just kept thinking about Charles’ lips being on my neck and feeling how fast my heart was going through the vein they lingered upon. His teeth grazed the flesh and his name whimpered across my lips a few times before he finally called me a “good girl” and I almost lost my mind between that and the angle his cock was at. He had to know how close I was. He had to feel how my pussy tightened around his cock and I was beginning to struggle to keep going. His teeth sunk into my shoulder and he groaned as I couldn’t stop the orgasm that came thrashing down upon me. I grabbed his arm so tightly my fingernails would leave marks upon his skin. My whole body convulsed as finally I let go and let the climax take hold of me. The high Charles had given me seemed to be otherworldly and stratospheric. It took me to another fucking planet and none more so than when he groaned, gripped my hips and held me down in place while he himself, found release. I could feel the pulse of his cock inside of me as his hot, milky cum poured out of him. The feeling was insurmountable. The twitch of him as he filled me up seemed the prolong my orgasm even longer and when the shakes that ravaged my body became too much, I couldn’t keep my knees from giving way and so finally fell forward against the bed again. All I could hear was Charles and I’s heavy, exhausted breathing.

As Charles settled down beside me on the bed he ran his hands up and down my back. It was a rather tender, sweet motion for someone who had just railed me into oblivion but I didn’t mind it. Suddenly as I found myself lying still - still recovering from those two incredible orgasms - I felt the alcohol from earlier catch up on me. The room seemed a bit spiny and I really didn’t want to throw up anywhere in Charles all white apartment. But then - right on queue - with his breathing still laboured Charles asked if I wanted anything and suggested a towel and a glass of water. Not to sound like a broken fucking record but this was new, he had never done this before. He had never really spoken after we had fucked so this was totally left field. I nodded and said both would be nice if he didn’t mind.

“Ok, be right back.” I listened to his words but stayed in the same position as I had earlier - mainly because I was scared of being sick and because now I was completely exhausted but also because I didn’t want Charles’ cum to leak out of me and go all over his extortionate sheets. I thought the action of him going to get me things would have been nice for a normal, regular girl (y’know, one he was dating) but seemed unusual for him to extend such gestures to me, his fuck buddy, his hook-up, his piece of ass. When he finally came back clutching an ice cold glass of water and a warmed damp towel for me to clean up with I expected him to hand me my dress as well. But my dress remained on the floor and he stared down at me while I drank from the glass. “Let me.” He motioned when I went for the towel. Charles took the glass from me and placed it on the floor before crouching down there himself. I was about to question him, ask him what he thought he was doing, when he lifted one of my legs and slowly parted them. My breathing all but stopped as he dabbed at my slightly red, a little bit tender pussy with the warm cloth. I let out an unsteady, unsure exhale of air as he watched his cum slowly seep out of me.

“Hmmm….” He purred “I should have told you my pull out game is weak.” He chuckled and in that singular moment he made me laugh. He sat back on his heels and laughed with me and all of the nervous energy in my body disappeared. All I could focus on was the sound of his laughter and how much I liked it and in a different life I would have wanted to hear it every single day for an eternity.

I rushed to try and find my dress, hoping that he hadn’t torn this one like last time. I wanted to spend the least amount of time naked in front of him as possible now snapshots of last night began coming back to me. Charles observed from his place in bed. Watching me as I sprinted around to get back into last nights clothes so I could leave. As the sunlight streamed in through his window it bathed us both in the cold harsh reality of the day and it was very much bringing a self loathing vibe along with it. Suddenly a wave of riotous nausea flashed upon me and my head felt like it belonged in a vice. Through clenched teeth I rubbed my forehead from the searing pain screaming throughout it

“Can I get you painkillers?” His voice had turned soft and was rather strange because it wasn’t what I was used too from him - or was that the narrative my own brain made up for me to believe he was a metaphorical bad guy? “Don’t do that, Charles. Don’t be nice to me.” “Why?” He acted so innocent and I knew he was putting on a front, there was no way he could be so stupid. “Because!” I practically shrieked, “I’m your ex-girlfriend’s best friend and we can’t stop fucking each other.” “I think you’ll probably be her ex-best friend if she finds out about us.” FUCK! He really didn’t need to hit me with the reality stick right now. The smugness was almost woven through his voice and I had to restrain myself from throttling him. But in reality the cold light of day made me feel angry and disappointed with myself, something I doubted he felt about this situation at all.

“That’s not going to happen.” I snap back at him. “Because there is no “us”, there never will be an “us.” Your voice lowered and you knew it sounded sadder than you intended. It didn’t stop Charles from continuing however. “Right…..” he rolled his eyes “until you’ve had too many strong cocktails and vodka shots and then you won’t be able to say no. Just like you always.” With his words lingering in the air I had to fight the urge to yell at him that I was never the instigator and he was the one who always came after me. I desperately wanted to fucking correct him and scream at him that he used me to forget about his ex, about Ferrari, about all the pressures of the life he leads and that it was HIM that sought ME out, not the other way around. But for some unknown reason, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t want to start an argument with him. I pulled on my dress hurriedly once I found it, no longer wanting to be so naked in front of him. All I wanted was to get the embarrassing walk of shame back to my apartment over already. I busied myself from the silence by looking for my shoes and I almost missed Charles getting out of bed and getting dressed.

“I’ll give you a ride home.” I heard him say as I pulled up the covers and found my black heel under them at the bottom of the bed. I now felt uncomfortable in his presence after the last words he spoke. Instinctively I told him; “It’s fine, I’ll call an Uber.” “I’m not suggesting. I’m telling.” He stated bluntly and this was new, this had never happened before. He was rarely awake when I slunk out the door of his apartment - because it was always his apartment or hotel room never mine - so this was completely foreign to me. “If you’re sure.” I half expected him to say of course he didn’t mean it, laugh, explain he was messing and to call that Uber immediately. But he just nodded and picked up my other heel from beside the door and held it out to me. I tried to avoid his eyes. I didn’t want him to see any emotion at at all behind mines so I took the shoe and shoved it on to distract myself.

We didn’t speak the whole ride to my apartment. The silence was only somewhat uncomfortable but for some strange reason things felt rather calm. Sitting in the passenger seat of Charles’ Ferrari - which I had never before sat in - felt somewhat surreal. I was hyper aware that the seat still practically bore another girls name. It still belonged to her and he would have her back without so much as blinking. I kept my eyes on the roads as Charles expertly drove the expensive luxury vehicle around them. Hoping the red lights would turn green as soon as we approached them.

“I do like you, y’know?” Came abruptly from Charles mouth when we turned onto my street, my apartment building in sight. I thought my ears were deceiving me so I broke my trance and glanced at him. “I know you probably think you’re just a rebound or….” He trailed off as he put the blinker on to pull over into the lane he could stop in to let me out. I could see the front door to my building and I had never seen a more welcome sight. “…but it’s not like that.”

I was desperate to ask what it was in fact like, what exactly he thought was going on but thankfully he brought the car to a stop and I could finally jump out and escape the awkwardness. There was this uneasy feeling in the car that hit me like a led balloon and right in the middle of my chest. I hated it. I wasn’t used to it, especially not with Charles. I was used to feeling annoyed, frustrated and fuck, disappointed by him. The first few times we fucked I’d have said I felt used but that went away because I enjoyed our trysts as much as he did. And besides I didn’t need validation from him. I didn’t need him to need me. But then right now, as I waited to get out of the car with my hand on the door handle, it hit me how badly the words he had just spoken were actually all the things that I craved and desired above all else and it was startling. Then Charles said my name so gently, totally unlike he had ever said it before, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. “I’d like to take you out sometime, properly. On a date.”

But before I knew what I was even doing I pulled the handle, pushed the door and started getting out of his car. He yelled my name so I would stop and for a second I did but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, to fall for him. “You know that can’t happen, Charles.” I managed to say in something struggling to be above a whisper “you don’t want me, you don’t even really like me, you’re still in love with her.”

The elevator ride up to my apartment felt like it took an eternity. The words he had spoken rang throughout my head as if a bomb had gone off and I was momentarily deaf. Fuck him. Fuck his bullshit and fuck how I fucking felt right now because of him. I was right for telling him that he was wrong and he still loved his stupid ex but it hurt because being with him always did. Being picked up and dropped all the time hurt. I wanted to be one of those girls who would have fallen for his words, whose stomach flipped when he told them he liked them, but I wasn’t and mines didn’t. I knew it was just about sex. I wasn’t his type. I wasn’t right for him. I’d never be his girl….and yet as the doors opened to my floor, I couldn’t wait till the next time I could fall asleep beside him and hate myself for it the next day.

*snow = cocaine

[kingofbodyrolls]

Friendcation (m) | myg | winter special

You’re in labor and live outside of the city, and it just happens to be Christmas time, there’s a lot of snow. Will you and Yoongi be able to make it to the hospital before your baby arrives?

OR– The one where Yoongi fucks you into labor and crashes the car 🙃 (It’s set about 2 years after friendcation ended) 🙂

→ Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female) → Other characters: Jimin 😇 + the rest of the gang makes an appearance at the end too 💜 → AUs: roadtrip!au, non idol!au, pregnancy!au, established relationship, married!au, mechanic!Yoongi, holiday!au. → Genres: slice of life, humor/crack, smut and fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18  (This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 → Word Count: 10.3K → Warnings (general) + triggers: sex while pregnant, minor car accident, a lot of crack and humor too, because otherwise it wouldn’t be friendcation. Slight angst. Possessive Yoongi. Jimin deserves a warning too 👀 (it’s always Jimin)! Giving birth in a car in a somewhat detailed description (without medical help). Breastfeeding a baby. A lot of kissing. → Warnings (explicit): smut in the form of unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, breast play, nipple play (with a little bit of lactation), flashing/exposure of vagina and boobs, comfort sex (Yoongi making sure OC is comfortable the whole time 🥺), strong orgasms, blood (because of childbirth, but barely mentioned). → Author’s note: this couple just wouldn’t leave me alone 😂 So here we are, with a winter special. I really hope you like it. It was so fun to write, I just love their relationship and then also with their friends, especially Jimin 🤭 I might do more specials through time, I don’t know. Don’t know if people are interested (but I’d probably write it anyway, lol). Like, we still don’t know how Yoongi proposed, their wedding, their honeymoon 👀 This has different povs, mainly Yoongi's, then Jimin's and reader's (I hope it isn't too confusing). Thank you so much – and thanks to all that likes, comments, reblogs, yeah, anything. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, it makes me so happy and a damn smiling fool 💜 → Read on AO3? [link] ✨

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He is used to it.

But ever since you became pregnant, it’s been getting worse.

Your sleep moaning, that is.

And it’s always turning him on.

His frustration simmers beneath the surface, fueled by the magnetic allure you effortlessly wield. Yet, with a single glance from you, his resolve melts away like butter on a warm summer day. This magnetic power you wield over him isn't a recent revelation; it's been your enchanting spell, cast long before that memorable camping trip more than a year ago.

Memories surge like a tidal wave, setting his irises ablaze with vivid snapshots of you both, entwined amidst the intimate cocoon of his van, sheets tangled in the echoes of passion.

Countless adventures and camping escapades have unfolded since that fateful journey with your friends, yet it's the kaleidoscope of memories created with you that he holds as precious treasures, each moment a vibrant gem in the tapestry of your relationship.

At last, his gaze shifts towards you, and he beholds the tranquility that graces your sleeping form, nestled beside him. There you lie, on your back nonetheless, which really mustn't be nice considering your big belly.

You’re almost nine months pregnant and the baby can come any minute, he knows.

You’d been trying to conceive for some time, a delightful excuse to have sex all the damn time–although, truth be told, he never needed one.

He feels his dick strain against the confines of his boxers and he wonders  whether to rouse you from slumber, it's not merely the urgency of his arousal but the genuine concern for your well-being—your supine position hindering blood flow and oxygen to the precious life within your belly. 

Thus, with a tender touch, he delicately stirs you from your peaceful slumber.

Initially met with silence, your slumbering form stirs slightly, emitting a soft murmur of both moans and snores.

A soft chuckle escapes him as he observes your endearing response, yet undeterred, he persists in gently prodding you.

In a hushed and tender tone, he attempts to reach out to you with a gentle “Babe,” his voice a delicate whisper, carrying the weight of affection.

As your head gracefully pivots towards him, your eyes, like delicate butterflies, flutter open in response to the gentle call. A soft smile graces his lips, a silent serenade to the gradual awakening of your consciousness.

As consciousness fully embraces you, your eyes roam the dimly lit room before finding solace in his gaze.”Why did you wake me? It’s the middle of the night…” you inquire, the bedroom's shadows bearing witness to the query that hangs in the air.

With a gentle yawn, you pivot your body, settling into the comforting curve of your side. In the quiet accomplishment of this subtle shift, one of his cherished missions finds completion.

In a tender tone infused with love, he begins, “You were sleeping on your back. It’s not good for the baby,” his words a gentle caress carrying the weight of concern for the precious life cradled within your belly.

A warmth infuses your smile as you meet his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of gratitude for the depth of his concern and the wellspring of love that envelops you both.

And with a playful chuckle lacing his words, he adds, “And you were moaning too.” Your laughter joins his, and you both know what this means.

“You’re always horny, Yoon.” you tease, your hands exploring the contours of his body with purpose. Swiftly finding the elastic of his boxers, you trace the outline of his dick with a deliberate touch, a dance of desire that unfolds seamlessly between you.

Your hand glides sensually over him, a teasing caress through the fabric of his boxers, and a guttural groan of pleasure escapes his lips.

He seizes your hand, bringing a pause to the tantalizing dance between you. “Do you want to, babe?” he inquires, his gaze a reflection of both restraint and anticipation, hanging on the unspoken words between you.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, your body and mind fully alive, the air already charged with the unmistakable electricity that Yoongi seems to effortlessly ignite within you. You’re already soaked in your panties, and with a whispered moan, you confess, “Yes, I need you Yoongi.”

Gently guiding your hand away from his cock, he inches closer, turning you to lay on your side facing away from him.

Swiftly seizing his pillow, he artfully tucks it beneath the gentle curve of your belly, sculpting a cocoon of support and comfort.

Nestling his head into the crook of your neck, he inhales deeply, savoring the heady and intoxicating essence that is uniquely yours. It's more than a fragrance; it's a potent elixir that courses through him, a sensory drug that elicits an involuntary response—a subtle, primal twitch in the fabric of boxers.

A low, guttural moan escapes his lips, intimately shared in the cocoon of your embrace, as he senses your shiver echo through his touch.His skilled hand embarks on a journey, tenderly caressing your breasts, lingering over the soft expanse of your tummy where the fluttering life within makes its presence known. As his exploration ventures lower, he cups your pussy outside your panties.

Your hips undulate into his dick, a rhythmic dance that draws an involuntary duet of pleasure-laden moans from both of you. His awareness sharpens, attuned to the undeniable evidence of your arousal. With a deliberate touch, he tugs your panties aside, revealing your drenched pussy.

Initiating a delicate exploration, he trails his fingertips along the contours of your folds, gathering the essence of your arousal before skillfully guiding a single digit into the velvety warmth of your desire.

With a rhythmic precision, he starts a sensual dance, his digit sliding in and out of your eager core. Each movement draws forth an increasing symphony of heavy pants, and he can already hear that you’re not gonna last long.

Adding another skilled finger, he intensifies the intimate pleasure, a seamless union of sensation as your bodies synchronize in a provocative dance. Your backside grinds into the rigid length of his desire, fueling his fervor to push the limits further. With an escalating pace, his fingers move within you, a crescendo of pleasure building with every adept stroke.

Breathless and on the precipice of ecstasy, you urgently plead, “I'm so close, Yoongi. Touch my clit instead,” your voice a desperate plea. He complies with a deft move, withdrawing his slickened fingers from the depths of your core to redirect their attention, skillfully navigating the peaks of your pussy with an intoxicating dance against your throbbing clit.

Yoongi has become attuned to the cadence of your breath, a masterful symphony that he has memorized like the back of his hand. In the harmonious rhythm, he discerns the telltale signs that you are on the precipice of ecstasy—so close that the intoxicating anticipation hangs in the air like an electric charge.

His fingers move in a tantalizing dance, tracing circles around your clit with an intimate familiarity. As he senses you teetering on the brink, your breaths hang heavy in the charged air, and the ethereal moans escape your lips like a whispered melody. In a bold move, he pinches your clit. Your body responds in an electric surge, tension radiating through every inch of your being, held in the exquisite grip of his deliberate touch.

Returning to the rhythmic circles on your clit, he guides you through the waves of your orgasm, a seismic tremor that reverberates through your being. Each stroke of his touch acts as a steady anchor, grounding you in the aftermath of what feels like an earth-shattering climax.

You gasp for air, your breaths coming in furious bursts, and in a voice drawn out with need, you moan his name—a melody of pleasure that lingers in the charged air between you.

“'Fuck!” escapes you in a guttural moan, your hands clenching into fists under the watchful gaze of his darkened, appreciative eyes. 

Withdrawing his hand from the depths of your core, he endeavors to temper the tempestuous movements coursing through you, a steadying touch anchoring your fervent reactions with a gentle grip on your hips. 

“'Damn. It's like the orgasm is lingering,” you confess in a strained voice, leaving Yoongi uncertain whether to interpret it as a blissful prolongation or a potential intensity that might overwhelm you. 

“What do you mean?” he inquires, his voice a warm breath against your neck.

“It's just... I can feel it all the way around my stomach,” you pant, the lingering sensations creating a unique symphony within you. “Ah, it's probably Braxton Hicks contractions, because of the orgasm,” you assert with a newfound certainty. In response, Yoongi hums in acknowledgment, his hand delicately finding its place on your belly, where he can feel the subtle tightness.

“Are you sure it’s just that?” he questions, his concern etched in the furrow of his brow. Yet, as your assurance unfolds, a palpable relaxation courses through the muscles of your belly. “Yeah, they're fading now,” you confirm.

“Yoongi, I need you inside me now,” you declare, your words a sultry plea as you sensually grind your ass into the rigid bulge within his boxers. 

With a sharp intake of breath, he hisses, seizing your hips in a possessive grip, molding you against the heat of his pelvis.

Effortlessly, he peels your panties down your thighs, and you willingly lift your legs to aid in their complete removal. As he holds the damp evidence of your arousal in his hand, a wicked glint in his eyes betrays the realization, damn they are soaked. Without a second thought, he discards them to the floor.

“'Is this position comfortable for you?” he tenderly inquires, a gentle concern threading through his words as he sheds his boxers. Adjusting his position, he moves slightly, aligning himself with the contours of your core from behind.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Lying down and approaching from behind, the fit feels unusually snug. Yoongi, with deliberate intent, spreads your ass cheeks, his hand tracing a teasing path before he strokes his arousal, the anticipation building. As he aligns with the entrance to your core, a slow and deliberate entrance ensues, eliciting a moan from you.

An almost primal growl escapes your lips as he sinks in, each agonizingly slow inch a delicious torment. It's not just amazing; it's an exquisite tightness that makes you acutely aware of his presence, as if you can feel him reverberating through every fiber of your being, from the deepest reaches of your pussy to the intimate confines of your uterus.

Yoongi indulges in a series of deliberate thrusts, each movement a slow dance that unveils the exquisite tightness enveloping him. With each rhythmic advance into your core, he keenly senses the escalating tension in your body.

“Yoon,” you pant, the syllables a breathless plea that lingers in the charged air. Yoongi, attuned to your every reaction, halts his movements, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek. “I can feel you everywhere inside, fuck.”

“Is it good, or should we stop?” he asks, a genuine concern etched across his features. His desire is not just for pleasure but for your comfort and satisfaction.

“No, it's good for now, but I'll let you know if it gets too intense, okay? Maybe we can change positions then?” you inquire, your voice a sultry whisper that hangs in the air. As you sensually grind your ass down into his pelvis, fucking yourself on his cock, a soft moan leaves your lips.

Yoongi releases a low, guttural moan against the sensitive skin of your neck, his reverberating pleasure mingling with lust between you. His hand journeys down the curve of your hips, gripping them with a possessive urgency. In this tactile exchange, he finds stability, a grounding force that allows him to drive into you once more, each thrust a testament to the fervor building between you.

As you surrender completely against him, a harmonious synchrony of pleasure unfolds. Sensing the shift, he accelerates his thrusts, a rhythmic dance that quickens the desire between you. 

Yoongi inhales deeply against the canvas of your neck, and in a sudden, electrifying twist, you feel the graze of his teeth. Your body shivers with anticipation, and then he descends, sinking his teeth into your neck. Not too forcefully, but with a compelling intensity that sends a jolt of electricity down your spine. Your body responds in kind, grinding against his, and a sinful moan escapes you.

Then, with a sensual grace, he traces the path where his teeth had left their mark, his tongue delicately caressing your neck before placing soft, lingering kisses. Your response is a sultry mewl, the audible manifestation of pleasure, and in the electric aftermath, you feel a surge of arousal saturate his dick.

Breathless and on the precipice of ecstasy, you gasp, “Yoongi, I'm—,” the words trailing off into a passionate pant as he skillfully drives into you, each thrust an artful symphony of pleasure that transcends language, leaving you teetering on the edge of bliss.

“Hmm?”

His grip on your hips tightens, and with each deeper thrust, the world around you seems to blur as you swear that, despite the physical limitations of the position, you can feel him everywhere. It's an overwhelming sensation, almost too much.

“I want to change positions,” you pant, and in an instant, Yoongi withdraws, his response swift and attentive. With a purposeful motion, he turns you around, orchestrating a seamless transition that repositions you to face him once again.

“What do you want to do?” he smiles, his gaze tender as he caresses your cheek with the gentle strokes of his long, slender fingers. In the delicate dance of his touch, you feel an overwhelming sense of love and appreciation.

“I want to ride you,” you confess, leaning in to capture his lips in a soft kiss. As you pull away, a playful smile dances across your face, your eyes reflecting a potent mix of love and lust.

“Fuck, yeah, babe,” he breathes in eager agreement, turning to lie on his back. As you discard the pillow he thoughtfully fetched for you, you proceed to shed your nightgown, leaving both of you completely bare.

With a graceful motion, you hike one leg over his body, settling into a commanding straddle. Your hand confidently takes hold of his dick, aligning it with the eager warmth of your pussy again. A smile plays on your lips as you gaze down at him, relishing the empowering intimacy of having him beneath you in this moment.

His smile mirrors the adoration and appreciation he feels as he takes in every incredible feature of yours. As you descend slowly onto his cock, your face flushes a subtle shade of red, your quivering lips betraying the intensity of your desire. Your nipples stand proudly, and your gracefully rounded belly hangs low, a testament to the life you’ve both created and soon to welcome into the world.

God he loves you. So fucking much. In his eyes, you’re a goddess.

As you lower yourself onto his dick, a duet of moans escapes both of you, the soft stretch heightening the sensory experience. The angle of this position enhances the feeling, and in the synchronized exchange of pleasure, you both revel in the palpable sensation that binds you together.

“Fuck, Yoon!” you pant, the breathless exclamation escaping your lips as you reach the apex of his pelvis, his cock filling you up completely. 

“'Ah! It's so much better like this,” you moan, the words dripping with satisfaction and pleasure as you take control, beginning to ride him with a rhythmic motion. 

Yoongi's hands find purchase on your hips, their firm grasp not only steadying you but becoming an integral part of the rhythmic dance as you bounce on his dick. 

It's undeniably exquisite, the sensation heightened by the captivating sight of you taking control, sending Yoongi into a feral state of desire. The raw power of your dominance, setting the pace and depth, fuels an irresistible fire within him. Your expressions—those eyes closing in lust, the whimpering pleas—seemingly unravel his restraint, threatening to push him over the edge. 

“You look so good, bouncing on my dick. Such a good girl,” he pants, the words imbued with a husky appreciation. His hands, slightly squeezing your hips, become a tactile affirmation, letting you know that every movement is not just good but exceptionally arousing. 

You keen in response to his praise, a melodious symphony of pleasure that resonates in the air. Empowered by the encouragement, you guide yourself down deeper, every movement an exquisite dance that intensifies the feeling of being incredibly full.

“Yoongi, I don't think I'm gonna last long,” you pant, the admission hanging in the air like an electrifying confession. Sensing the imminent climax, you slow your movements, the deliberate deceleration amplifying the anticipation.

“It’s fine,” he reassures you, “I’m not going to either.”

You chuckle at him, the sound a melodic blend of pleasure and fatigue as you continue to bounce on his arousal. “I'm also so damn tired. This is challenging with my belly being this big,”

“I can take over if you want—or we can try another position?” His offer is laced with genuine concern, a desire to ensure you don't strain or tire yourself unnecessarily. 

“No! I love this. I want to ride you,” you moan, the words a passionate declaration as you sink down on him once more. The anticipation of your impending orgasm begins to unfurl in the depths of your stomach.

“Yoongi—, I'm close,” you pant, the admission a breathless revelation as you continue to move at a languid pace, the enticing rhythm showcasing the delightful bounce of your tits with each motion.

He has always been captivated by the allure of your tits—a mesmerizing aspect of your physicality that leaves him in awe. A part of him remains undecided, caught in the delightful dilemma of whether he prefers your tits or your ass, a choice he'd willingly forego, harboring a fervent desire for both.

Your hands find purchase on his sculpted pectorals, seeking support as exhaustion sets in, causing your movements to slow, each languid motion bringing you closer to climax. His gaze lingers on your face, a canvas painted with the intensity of the moment—sweat glistening, mouth slightly agape, and eyebrows creased in ecstasy as you fervently ride him, lost in the rhythmic dance of pleasure.

He senses a primal twitch within as he stays deep within you, and his gaze traces a path down your neck where the evidence of his love bite remains visible. Continuing his journey, his eyes appreciate the sight of your wonderful, bouncy tits.

Withdrawing both of his hands from your hips, they now tenderly grasp both of your tits. “These are so wonderful, as is every part of you,” he murmurs in a voice laced with appreciation.

You feel the walls of your pussy contract in response to his words of praise, a cascading sensation that culminates in a soft moan, his name escaping your lips like a whispered melody. 

He caresses your tits, their softness, fullness, and weight filling his palms with a tangible desire. As his hands explore, he discovers your perked nipples, rolling them between his fingers in a delicate dance of pleasure.

“Yoongi!” A high-pitched moan escapes your lips, the fervent cry echoing in the charged atmosphere as you throw your head back, surrendering to the pleasure of sinking down on him once more. 

He luxuriates in the splendor of your beauty, every facet of your amazing body a source of enchantment. Everything about you accelerates the rhythm of his heart, the butterflies in his stomach multiplying with each passing moment. 

He gives a gentle tug on your nipple, sending a surge of sensations through your body like an electric current, a simultaneous feeling of warmth and chill enveloping you in a paradoxical embrace.

You sense a delightful tingling sensation rippling across your entire body, a prelude to an impending climax that hovers tantalizingly on the edge.

“Shit, Yoongi, I think I'm gonna come,” you moan, the admission carrying the weight of impending ecstasy.

He grunts in response, the primal sound echoing the urgency of his own impending release. “I'm close too.”

You start to sense a delightful tightness in your breasts, with Yoongi skillfully alternating between rolling your nipples, tugging, and pinching them. The exquisite play on your sensitive peaks sends shivers down your spine. Simultaneously, you become acutely aware of the wetness between your thighs, a slippery testament to the overwhelming arousal that courses through your body.

The sound of skin on skin slapping resonates through the air, a visceral percussion that punctuates the charged atmosphere. The noise sends a jolt through your body, causing your muscles to tense in response.

The tingling and prickling sensation in your breasts intensifies, creating a crescendo of arousal that surges through your body. Then, in a sudden release, you feel the pressure in them subside, a wave of pleasure ebbing away like a tide.

Yoongi watches in awe as a gush of milk shoots out of your tits, creating a mesmerizing display that soon turns into a sensuous drip. His finger skillfully rolls your nipples, the fluid covering them and your tits in a glistening sheen of your breastmilk. Fuck it’s hot. He feels his dick twitch again, as he keeps looking at your tits.

You sense a wetness on your breasts and instinctively glance down, only to be met with a wave of horror as you realize you've begun lactating. In an instant, you cover your bobs, a mix of shock and embarrassment washing over you. The sudden shift in your body leaves you feeling vulnerable and a bit grossed out.

“I'm so sorry,” you begin, breathless words escaping your lips as you continue to fuck yourself on his dick. 

“You don't have to be sorry, babe. It's natural and sexy,” he reassures you with a loving smile, a genuine attempt to dispel any insecurity. His eyes, filled with both warmth and desire, convey a message beyond words—that he not only doesn't mind but finds the situation undeniably hot. 

“Please let me touch them,” he pleads with a rare vulnerability in his usually composed demeanor. 

You take a moment to contemplate, acknowledging that while you might not find it as inherently sexy as he does, the arousal sparked by his desire for you is undeniably enticing. Embracing the vulnerability, you lean in and press your tits closer to his face, your tummy meeting his, as you concede with a whispered “okay.” 

You release your breasts from your grasp, and like a magnet seeking its counterpart, his hands find them once more. With deliberate tenderness, he begins to massage your tts, each slow and deliberate stroke creating ripples of pleasure that resonate through your body. 

As you move up and down on his length, the kaleidoscope of emotions—love, lust, and adoration—mirrored in Yoongi's eyes sends a shiver down your spine. In that charged moment, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, you feel like you could die a happy woman. 

His fingers resume their dance, skillfully rolling your nipples and coating them with the warm fluid of your breast milk.

With a newfound determination, you pick up the pace, fervently chasing the brink of your orgasm. Yoongi, fully immersed in the moment, continues to fondle your tits with an affectionate touch.

“Ah! Yoongi, it's so good!” you moan with a symphony of pleasure as you lower yourself onto him, and in response, he tugs a little harder on your nipples.

“Fuck,” you pant, breathless, the sensation of being so thoroughly filled with desire and pleasure overwhelming your senses.

As your stomach tightens, the internal coil finally springs free, and you unleash your slick juices on his dick. A surge of ecstasy washes over you, rendering your vision blurry, a temporary blindness overcome by the intensity of pleasure. A strange ringing noise fills your ears, and your body collapses against Yoongi's in a state of blissful surrender.

With remarkable speed, he intercepts your naked form before it collides with him, his strong and firm hands seizing your hips to anchor you on top of him. 

You man fervently, the echoes of your climax still reverberating through your body. In the throes of your descent from ecstasy, a desperate plea escapes your lips, “Yoongi, please fcuk me.”

With a firm grip on your hips, he squeezes them again, initiating a rapid and relentless pace of thrusting into you. The urgency in his movements mirrors the crescendo of desire building within him as he fervently chases his own impending orgasm. 

Fuck, it was hot to witness you unravel in such ecstasy. The lingering sensation of your walls pulsating around his dick lingers, as if you're tightly embracing him, and he revels in it. Being inside you, outside you, every facet of connection with you fuels a deep and insatiable love within him. 

“Fuck, babe – you’re so tight!” he moans in pure delight. As you sit up, a newfound intensity in your movements, your hands find your tits, skillfully rolling your nipples, and a rivulet of breast milk drips out. Fuck. That will be his undoing.

“Ah, babe—,” he moans your name with a drawn-out, languid tone, his eyes unable to tear away from the sinful allure of your face and the captivating sight of your incredible tits. 

Inexplicably, your walls continue to throb around him, coaxing an unbridled release from him. A guttural moan of your name escapes his lips, a primal declaration of the intensity of the moment, synchronized with the eruption of his warm seed, cascading into the depths of your pulsating pussy. 

“Fuck!” he pants, his thrusts persisting a few times before he deftly lifts you, positioning you higher on his stomach. In the aftermath of shared ecstasy, both of you lost in the haze of pleasure, the residue of your combined orgasms coats and binds you together, a slick and intimate testament to the intensity of lust.

“Ah…” you moan, a sultry melody escaping your lips as you descend into Yoongi's embrace. Despite the undertones of desire that lace your voice, he can't help but wonder what might be amiss as he sees pain etched in your face.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he inquires, his gaze locking onto your lustful eyes as he seeks to unravel the secrets veiled behind their desire-laden depths.

“I think I’m still orgasming,” you pant, rising once more, “it’s like my body won’t stop.” A shared gaze lingers between you, uncertainty flickering in both your eyes as the lingering waves of pleasure blur the lines between ecstasy and the unknown.

“Is it good or bad though?” he probes, a furrow forming on his brow as he attempts to unravel the mystery. “It’s not bad, but my tummy feels so tight,” your hand guides his to the firmness, and indeed, it does feel tight.

“Hmmm…” he contemplates the peculiar situation, his curiosity piqued but not overly concerned. “I’ll grab some towels and clean us up. Let’s wait a moment to see if it subsides, alright?”

You nod at him, then gracefully ease down from his lap, sprawling on your side, the remnants of passion and desire lingering in the air as you continue to pant for the sweet breath of satisfaction.

Yoongi gracefully rises from the bed, navigating the darkness of the night with an innate sense of purpose. He effortlessly locates your bathroom, skillfully secures a handful of towels, and returns to your bedroom with a quiet assurance, the dim shadows highlighting his silhouette as he prepares to tend to your shared aftermath.

“Here—, I–” With a sudden urgency, he tosses the towels aside as his eyes widen at the sight of you. Your figure is curled in on itself, hands instinctively cradling your stomach, every muscle in your body taut and tense.

“Yoongi, I think I’m in labor,” you declare, the gravity of the moment reflected not just in your words but also in the silent agony etched across your face, a shared understanding mirrored in the intensity of his gaze.

And then it hits him like a tidal wave; the tightness in your tummy was contractions. A surge of realization floods over him—shit, it’s happening. You're having your baby. In the whirlwind of emotions, he battles to remain calm, to steady himself for the pivotal moments ahead.

“Okay. Let's time the contractions and then call the hospital, okay?” he says, a sense of urgency in his voice, frantically searching for his phone on the nightstand.

“Let me know the moment you sense the beginning of a contraction,” he instructs, poised to start the timer.

“Right now,” you gasp, clutching your stomach tightly. The sensation grips you, an intense pressure, especially at the apex, and then, moments later, it releases. “It’s gone now.”

“Almost a minute,” he observes, his tone laden with the realization that you're edging closer to the throes of labor.

“Describe them to me. Are they intense? The pain worries me, seeing you in discomfort tears me apart,” he inquires, genuine concern etched across his face as he tries to understand what you're going through.

“Just a hint of pain, nothing unbearable. I can handle it,” you reassure with a soft chuckle, a resilient spirit shining through despite the discomfort, and he finds solace in your strength.

“Let's keep an eye on the contractions for about an hour, and then we'll give the hospital a call,” he suggests, retrieving the towels scattered on the floor earlier with a sense of urgency.

“While we wait, let me take care of you,” he proposes, coming closer with a towel. Gently lifting one of your legs, he begins to clean you, erasing the traces of our orgasms.

Your body quivers in response to his tender touch, eliciting delicate moans that dance in the air.

“Fuck. I don’t know why, but it’s turning me on, Yoon.” You moan softly, unable to explain the unexpected arousal, but your body instinctively grinds against the towel, turning a simple act into a sensual dance of lust.

A playful chuckle escapes him as he tends to your aftermath, skillfully cleaning you up. Satisfied with the tender care he has given you, he proceeds to clean himself up. Together, you reclaim your clothing, sitting down in your bed anxiously waiting for your contractions to pick up. 

As the cadence of contractions quickens, Yoongi takes decisive action, reaching out to the hospital to announce the fact that you’re in labor. With a voice poised between urgency and excitement, he navigates the conversation, detailing the progression of your contractions over the past hour. He wants to know how you should proceed.

As anticipation swirls in the air like a palpable force, Yoongi's voice resonates with a newfound sense of joy. “They've given us the green light to drive to the hospital,” he announces, his eyes reflecting the shared excitement. As you both perch on the edge of the bed, he turns to you with a practical inquiry, “Where did you stash your hospital bag?”

Your gesture guides him to the dresser, and with a graceful sweep, Yoongi retrieves your carefully prepared hospital bag. His voice, a comforting melody, invites you to join him, “Come, we can go now.”

Guiding you with a gentle hand, Yoongi accompanies you to the entryway of your home, a silent pact of shared determination. The darkness outside, coupled with the December chill, calls for the practicality of boots and a warm coat.

Assertively reaching for Yoongi's car keys, you declare, “I can drive.” The shift in Yoongi's expression is so abrupt, it's as if you've caught a fleeting glimpse of a storm cloud on a clear day, the sour twist on his face a testament to the unexpectedness of your statement.

His voice takes on a stern edge, swiftly denying your attempt to take the wheel. Yoongi snatches the keys from your grasp, his firm tone leaving no room for negotiation. “It’s not safe for you to drive in the midst of contractions,” he insists, a protective glint in his eyes amplifying the weight of his concern.

“But it’s not that bad,” you argue, why, you don’t really know.

“Look, babe. I know you can do everything by yourself, you’re strong, and I love you for it. But you’re not driving the car,” he says with a tone that brooks no argument, a gentle firmness underlining his love and concern for your well-being.

As you both prepare and the keys find their place in Yoongi's firm grip, you swing the door wide open, only to be greeted by a blanket of white—the snow-draped landscape stretching across the grass, road, and your car. To top it off, gentle snowflakes dance down from the heavens. Fuck.

“Ugh, it’s going to take forever driving into the city in this weather,” you grumble, trudging your way towards the car through the dense, snow-laden path. The flakes fall thick and heavy, making it difficult to see ahead.

Yoongi grumbles under his breath, popping the trunk to stow away your bag. With meticulous care, he ensures you've got everything essential for the journey. Satisfied, you both slide into the car, ready to face the challenges the snowy night has in store.

“It's going to be alright, babe,” he reassures you, his hand gently covering yours before tenderly moving to your belly. “Can't wait to finally meet you.” 

Yoongi is accustomed to navigating challenging weather conditions on the road, his driving skills unaffected by the snow. However, the incompetence of other drivers in snowy conditions infuriates him. Inside the cocoon of your car, he vents his frustration, unleashing a symphony of curses directed at everyone causing chaos on the wintry roads.

“Ease up on the road rage, Yoongi. I don't want our little one picking up a vocabulary lesson in expletives before they even arrive,” you chime in, settling deeper into the seat, your concern for the baby evident in your voice.

“Babe, seriously, who ventures out on the road without a clue about driving in the snow? And it's the crack of dawn—why is everyone suddenly on a snow-day adventure?” Yoongi grumbles in exasperation, his frustration bringing a smile to your face despite the situation.

“Have you forgotten it’s Christmas time?” you quip, chuckling as he gapes at you, realization dawning on him. Damn, he had indeed forgotten.

“We haven’t even reached the city yet and there’s already so many cars,” he complains some more, and you let him. His voice, a melody that always soothes, even in the midst of chaotic Christmas traffic.

“They’re going home to their families—, watch out!” you point at the car in front of you, its headlights blazing like a comet in the snowy morning, almost blinding in their intensity.

Yoongi's keen eyes caught sight of the car in the opposite lane, and it became painfully evident that the driver couldn't navigate the snowy roads to save their life. Inexplicably, this inept driver seemed to believe they owned the road, arrogantly straddling both lanes. Distinguishing one lane from another was challenging in the snowy chaos, but it wasn't rocket science either.

Yoongi skillfully swerves the car to the side, narrowly avoiding a collision with the vehicle in front. The abrupt move sends a rumble through the car as it navigates the bumpy terrain, plowing through a massive mound of snow hastily shoved to the side.

The car grinds to a halt, Yoongi unleashing a string of colorful curses directed at the absent driver. Now, you find yourselves stranded in the unforgiving grip of the snow.

His concerned gaze shifts to you, seeking reassurance. “Are you okay, babe?” he asks, and although you appear unharmed, your response carries the weight of the unexpected. “Yeah, I'm okay. Just a bit shaken.”

As he hums a soothing melody, his attempts to reassure you echo in the confined space, yet beneath the surface, he senses the gradual erosion of his own calm demeanor.

“That fucking jerk,” his frustration intensifies as he hisses about the reckless driver, but you, amidst the escalating contractions, offer soothing reassurance, masking the growing urgency within the car.

“I'll assess the damage outside, okay?” he proposes, seeking your consent. You nod, delving into your bag for a snack, a sudden wave of hunger overtaking you amid the unfolding situation.

Yoongi steps out into the freezing cold, the car's engine humming in the background. He surveys the vehicle, searching for any visible damage, but to his relief, nothing appears broken or in need of immediate repair.

The towering mound of snow engulfs the car, rendering the hood invisible. Yoongi, realizing the severity of the situation, understands that extricating the vehicle from this icy trap is no easy feat. The sheer depth of the snow suggests a challenging predicament, one that requires assistance. Knowing you're in no condition to lend a hand, he contemplates the help he'll need to navigate the car out of this wintry predicament.

He reenters the car, discovering you engrossed in a candy bar, and a hearty chuckle escapes his lips.

Between bites, you inquire, “I was hungry. How's the car?”

“It's stuck pretty bad in the snow pile. Can't get it out myself,” he begins, but you interrupt with a smile, “I can help you with that.”

“Have you forgotten that you're in labor?” he laughs, his voice raspy from the cold outside. “And you're not going out to shovel snow. We don't even have shovels,” he adds, sharing a hearty laugh with you.

“I thought you had all kinds of things in the car,” you chuckle, finishing your candy bar with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“Yeah, but not shovels,” his laughter resonates in the car, a contagious sound that brings a smile to your face.

“What are we gonna do then, just wait?” you inquire, a hint of worry coloring your voice as the realization dawns that you might not make it to the hospital in time.

“I’ll call Jimin and ask him to come help,” he declares, urgency in his tone as he swiftly pulls out his phone, dialing Jimin’s number with determination.

Even in the early morning hush, Jimin's phone vibrates, and he glances at the caller ID to find Yoongi's name flashing. It's an unusual call at this hour, sparking an immediate concern that propels him to answer without hesitation.

“Hey, Yoongi hyung, something wrong?” His voice, tinged with worry and genuine concern, breaks the silence of the room as he answers the call. He rises from the bed, instantly alert to the unusual urgency in Yoongi's early morning summons. 

“We had a car accident,” Yoongi's words hang heavy in the air, shattering the tranquility of the room. Jimin's reaction is immediate, a storm of worry and disbelief brewing within him. He erupts from the bed, shouting into the phone, “What??” The sheer concern in his voice mirrors the gravity of the situation.

Yoongi's reassurance echoes through the phone, a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. “It's minor, relax,” he utters, and the calmness in his voice acts as a lifeline, pulling him back from the edge of panic.

“A guy forced us off the road, and we ended up plowing into a massive snowbank. Now, the damn car's wedged in tight,” Yoongi recounts, frustration coloring his words. Jimin, attentive, absorbs the details. “Think you can come lend a hand? Bring some shovels. I'll shoot you our coordinates,” Yoongi requests, the urgency evident in his tone.

Jimin readily agrees to help, his concern palpable through the phone. However, he can't shake the worry as he inquires, “Are you guys okay? And ___? How's the baby?”

“Yeah, we're all fine,” Yoongi reassures, his voice a bit raspy. Jimin strains to catch some muffled sounds on the other end, unable to discern the details.

He glances at the dropped location on his phone, “I can be there in about 30 minutes,” he assures Yoongi, swiftly rising from his bed to grab some warm clothes.

“Thank you, Jimin.”

As the promised 30 minutes Jimin assured you passed an hour ago, he couldn't help but wonder if you were growing impatient with the prolonged wait.

Jimin spots your car on the roadside, its hazard lights casting an eerie glow, and he expertly maneuvers his own vehicle to a stop right behind yours.

He steps out, ready to retrieve tools from the trunk, but his attention is abruptly stolen by piercing screams emanating from your car. His muscles tense, and without a second thought, he dashes towards the source of the cries.

Why are you screaming? What's going on, and why are the windows so foggy?

With an overpowering urgency, he wrenches open the left door to the backseats, sending it flinging wide, the metallic screech echoing the urgency pulsing through his veins.

He hadn't anticipated the shocking scene that unfolded before him; there you were, legs pressed against the headrest on both the front and back seats, completely exposed from the waist down. He can clearly see your vagina. Fuck, your vagina is big—wait, something is coming out of it!

Yoongi catches Jimin unabashedly staring at your vagina, prompting an eye roll from him. What's with Jimin? Having already witnessed your tits and now your vagina, it annoys Yoongi to no end. He's possessive; the idea of others seeing you in such a vulnerable state doesn't sit well with him. Sharing is not his forte.

He hisses sharply, capturing Jimin's attention, all while the symphony of your agonized screams continues to pierce the air.

“Stop looking at her vagina, man! You’ve seen enough of her, Jimin,” Yoongi snaps, frustration dripping from his words as your writhing form remains nestled against his supporting frame.

Jimin's eyes widen in disbelief, his mouth agape at the unexpected scene. He quickly redirects his gaze to Yoongi, his expression a mix of shock and apology as he stammers, “I—I didn't mean to, Yoongi, I'm so sorry!”

You clutch your thighs tightly, a guttural scream escaping your lips as the contraction envelops you. Once it recedes, you direct an exasperated shout at Jimin, “Close the damn door! You’re letting all the cold air in.”

Jimin snaps out of his daze, berating himself for standing there like a fool. Swiftly, he slips into the driver's seat, positioning himself to face the backseats with a determined look on his face.

“How long has she been in labor?” Jimin queries Yoongi, who glances up from your panting form for a moment before responding, “A few hours, actually.”

“You could have mentioned that when you called!” Jimin hisses in frustration. Not that the information would have made a big difference, given that the snow was the primary cause of his tardiness.

“But that’s a long time. I can see the head coming out,” he informs, prompting both you and Yoongi to exchange amused eye rolls.

“Yeah, she's crowning,” Yoongi adds with a soft stroke to your cheeks, his touch a comforting anchor as you brace yourself for another contraction.

“What can I do to help? I don't think we can get the car ready in time to make it to the hospital,” Jimin inquires, his gaze shifting between you and Yoongi with a mix of concern and determination.

“I already realized I’m having this baby in the backseat of a fucking car. Serves me right — getting fucked in a car, giving birth in a car. I’ve come full circle!” you laugh hysterically between contractions, the situation not lost on you. Jimin shifts uncomfortably in the driver's seat, but Yoongi remains a steady rock, his presence grounding you amidst the chaos.

As Yoongi directs his attention to Jimin, he suggests, “Maybe you could call the hospital and check if they can send an ambulance our way, just in case. I haven't had a moment to make that call yet.” His fingers trace soothing circles on your thighs, a stark contrast to the urgency of your sudden need to push.

Jimin's face reflects genuine concern as he admits he's never witnessed someone in labor before, only having gleaned insights from movies. However, a memory surfaces—advice from Seokjin after his girlfriend gave birth. “You can try changing positions, something where gravity can aid the baby's descent,” he shares, a eureka moment breaking through the tension.

Following Jimin's suggestion, you and Yoongi exchange a glance filled with gratitude and amazement. Acting on the advice, you shift positions, moving to sit over the seats with your upper body draped across them, your face turned towards the back. The atmosphere is tense, yet the three of you share a determined resolve in the face of the unexpected delivery.

With Yoongi's steady support, you manage to assume a half-standing, half-seated position, your body poised for the imminent arrival of your baby. Meanwhile, the car fills with the sound of Jimin's urgent voice as he communicates with the hospital over the phone.

“They are sending an ambulance now,” he informs.

Gratitude colors Yoongi's urgent request, a plea wrapped in the intensity of the moment. “Thank you, Jimin. Could you come back here and lend a hand?” he implores, a mix of worry and determination in his voice, as you cling to the rhythm of your breaths, navigating the storm of contractions.

He teases with a nonchalant shrug, “I thought you didn't want me looking.” Yet, it's clear he's here to assist you; after all, you're his ride or die, and in this crucial moment, his quip holds a trace of underlying devotion and readiness to stand by your side.

In a playful retort, he asserts, “Bold of you to assume I wanted you to look at her vagina again. There are other ways to assist, you know. I'll keep vagina watch—she's my wife,” emphasizing the relationship he shares with you, as Jimin exits the car to join you in the backseat.

Your tired yet grateful gaze meets Jimin's as you acknowledge, “You were right, Jimin. This position is a game-changer. The pressure has eased up a bit.” Despite the sweat-soaked exhaustion etched on your face, a soft smile conveys your appreciation.

For a second, Jimin doesn’t know what to do – can he touch you? Where? How can he help?

“Fuck it hurts!” Agony courses through you, each breath a struggle as you arch your back, a desperate attempt to wrestle against the relentless ache.

As the waves of pain intensify, he instinctively rests his hand on the small of your back, gently tracing soothing circles. To his relief, he witnesses the tension in your body slowly surrender to the rhythmic comfort of his touch.

Summoning all his composure, Yoongi bravely steals a glance downward, discovering a tuft of hair signaling the imminent arrival. Damn. He knows he must remain composed, steady—for you.

“How did you go into labor anyway? How did the water break, was it like in the movies?” Jimin launches into a barrage of questions, his curiosity pouring out like an unbridled stream. You shoot a glare his way, practically hurling invisible daggers in his direction at the audacity of his inquiries.

His hands continue their soothing circles on your lower back as he asks, “What?” Yoongi resurfaces, his expression a blank canvas.

And suddenly, realization flashes across Jimin's face. “You totally fucked! And then she went into labor!” he exclaims, a mix of shock and amusement in his voice.

You hiss in pain, your fingers clenching the seat with a vice-like grip, the intensity of the moment etched in the white-knuckle grasp of your hands.

Both your expressions affirm Jimin's earlier assumption, a silent confirmation that lingers in the charged air of the confined space.

“Shit, I can’t do this,” you gasp, exhaustion etched across your face, your body seemingly on the brink of surrender.

“You're almost there, babe. It's safe to keep pushing,” Yoongi reassures you with a tender kiss on your cheek, but you push him away, a fiery glare in your gaze.

“This is all your fault. You and your damn big dick!” you scream at him, and he understands, recognizing it as your pain talking and not the real you. Jimin chuckles from beside you, and you turn to give him a death glare, saying, “Don’t act so innocent, Mr. ‘I think Yoongi likes you.’”

“But I was right. And now you're about to have his baby. It's going to be okay,” Jimin reassures you, his hand gently rubbing your back.

“Just relax,” Jimin adds.

“Easy for you to say; a baby isn't shooting out of your body,” you huff, the intensity of your anger subsiding.

“I know it hurts, babe. But focus on your breathing, and when you're ready, push with all you've got,” Yoongi encourages, leaning in to kiss you on the lips.

The kiss sends electric shivers down your spine, and strangely, it acts as a calming balm, making the pain feel somewhat more bearable.

When he pulls away, he notices the lingering frown on your face, and a sense of curiosity washes over him. “It was nice, Yoongi. I think it helps alleviate the pain,” you admit, your voice a mixture of exhaustion and appreciation.

“Kiss me again,” you pant, your desperation echoing in the quiet space of the car. Yoongi obliges, capturing your lips with a hunger that elicits a moan from deep within you. In that stolen moment, the world fades away, forgotten in the intoxicating blend of passion and the rhythmic circles Jimin traces on your back.

“Don’t mind me. But I think the baby is coming, I can see more of its head just from here,” he informs, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and amusement. Yoongi's gaze follows Jimin's, confirming the imminent arrival. 

He positions his hands underneath your core, preparing to catch your baby as soon as it emerges. Yet, your screams of pain prompt a plea, “Please distract me with kisses,” you cry out, your hands clenching around the seats in a desperate search for relief. 

Yoongi glances up at you, your pain evident, and the desperate desire for relief palpable in your eyes. However, he's torn between wanting to provide comfort and being there to catch and deliver your baby. A moment of realization dawns upon him – he can't be in two places at once, something Jimin seems to realize too.

Yoongi gazes at Jimin, a silent plea for guidance evident in his eyes, but Jimin, with a mischievous grin, utters, “You've got two choices, hyung – catch the baby or let me kiss your wife. What's it gonna be?”

Yoongi gapes at him, astounded by the audacity Jimin displays in even suggesting such a choice. He's acutely aware of his own possessiveness, and Jimin knows how much he fucking wants to deliver his own child. He’s caught between a rock and a hard place.

With a sense of urgency, you turn your head and implore, “Do something! I don't care who kisses me, just someone, please!” Your plea echoes with a mixture of sternness and desperation, the pain coursing through your entire body amplifying the need for any distraction.

Yoongi moves with unwavering determination, ascending once more. “Fine. Deliver the baby. You're going to be the godfather anyway,” he grumbles to Jimin, reaching your head and pressing his lips plush against yours. Instantly, you relax, a moan escaping in the midst of the chaos.

“I am?” Jimin questions, uncertainty lacing his voice. Yet, he positions his hands beneath your vagina, mirroring Yoongi's earlier gesture.

You eagerly press your lips to Yoongi's, seeking out his tongue in a passionate exchange, panting and moaning in response to the surge of arousal coursing through you. Amid the heated kiss, you offer affirmative murmurs to Jimin, your desires spoken through the intensity of the embrace with Yoongi.

“It's working, the baby is coming out,” Jimin exclaims with a mix of excitement and focus, his hands securing the baby's head with delicate precision to ensure a safe descent into the world.

Yoongi abandons your mouth, tracing a fiery path down to your neck, his lips leaving a trail of searing kisses and tantalizing bites. Your response is an involuntary groan, a symphony of pleasure escaping your lips, as you gasp out, “Fuuuck, Yoongi.”

“The head is completely out now!” Jimin’s voice breaks through the intense moment and in response, you instinctively grab Yoongi’s head, pulling him back up into a passionate kiss.

As your lips entwine in an ardently sensual dance, the symphony of pleasure resonates, eliciting increasingly fervent moans from you.

Breaking away, you gasp, “Fuck. Why does it feel like I’m coming?” Your breath comes in pants, and you sense a relieving tightness escaping your body.

Jimin swiftly takes charge, catching the remainder of your baby as it emerges, and Yoongi lends his support, ensuring Jimin's hands remain steady in the crucial moment.

The infant rests gently between your thighs in the hands of both Yoongi and Jimin, and as you gasp for air, you steal a glance downward. There, your precious baby lies, serene and silent. A moment of quietude settles in, and a disquieting realization begins to dawn upon you—silence, in this context, isn't the reassuring sound you anticipated.

Dread courses through you as you breathe heavily, realizing the absence of that expected newborn cry. Without hesitation, you extend your trembling arms, pulling your baby up against your chest in a desperate embrace.

An air of tension hangs heavy, mirrored in the anxious expressions on Jimin and Yoongi's faces, both men holding their breath, awaiting the sound that should signify life's beginning.

In an instinctual surge of emotion, you tear your shirt to shreds with one hand, cradling your newborn against your bare chest. Shock registers on both Jimin and Yoongi's faces as they witness this raw display of maternal instinct, captivated by the power and determination radiating from you.

As you gently rub the baby's back, waves of sadness wash over you, and tears stream down your face. In a choked voice, you express your fear, “This is why I should have delivered in the hospital. What if something happened to the baby and it's...gone?” The last part of the sentence catches in your throat, too emotional to articulate fully.

In the confined space of the car, you twist around, pressing your back against the seat as tears cascade down your cheeks. The anguish in your body is palpable, each sob causing a tremor that echoes the pain you're enduring.

In an instant, a second cry intertwines with yours, and you lower your gaze to behold your baby, tiny and fragile, yet alive. A surge of relief floods through every fiber of your being, mirrored in the eyes of the two men who exchange a profound, knowing glance.

Clutching your newborn close, you haven't even taken a moment to check the gender, but in this raw and tender moment, it hardly matters. All that echoes through your soul is the reassurance that everything is alright.

Overflowing with gratitude, your voice carries a symphony of love as your eyes dance between your husband and Jimin. “Thank you, both of you” you whisper, your heart swelling with the depth of the moment.

Yoongi whispers, his voice a tender melody, “You did incredible, babe,” as he leans in to press a gentle kiss against your cheek, his words echoing with admiration for your strength and resilience.

“No problem at all. You were amazing, ___,” Jimin commends, leaning back into the seat beside you, his hands stained with blood, that he wipes off on his pants.

“Jimin, could you check the trunk for some thermal blankets?” Yoongi requests, his gaze tenderly fixed on your baby, who has quieted down and now rests peacefully against your boobs—what he believes to be the most comforting place.

Jimin returns with a bundle of blankets, and Yoongi, with a sense of urgency, joins him in carefully wrapping you and the baby. The blankets cocoon you both, shielding you from the biting cold as you patiently await the arrival of the ambulance.

“Should we find anything to cut the cord with?” In a sudden burst of practicality, Jimin scans the car, his eyes searching for anything suitable to cut the cord.

“No, no. I've read that the baby can stay attached for hours and even days. So I'm fine waiting to do it in the hospital,” you say, your voice carrying a mixture of fatigue and overwhelming love. Your eyes remain fixed on your baby, and you don't glance at Jimin as you express your decision.

Then, a sensation grips your attention, warmth and thickness enveloping you between your legs. As you cast your gaze downward, the revelation dawns upon you – it's the placenta.

“You guys might need a new car,” Jimin breaks into laughter and Yoongi looks at him perplexed, before he scans the state of the car; it’s filled with blood, anatomic fluid and God knows what else. He reckons you’ll have to burn it, if it can’t be cleaned.

Half an hour post-delivery, the ambulance team arrives like guardian angels, swooping in to cradle you in their capable hands as they whisk you away to the sanctuary of the hospital.

Jimin swiftly summons roadside assistance, ensuring a caretaker for your stranded car, while he maneuvers his own vehicle through the snowy streets to the hospital.

Nestled in the hospital room, you're navigating the nuances of new motherhood. The compassionate nurses guide you through the art of breastfeeding, and you're determined to master this intimate dance with your newborn.

Beside you, Yoongi shares in the enchantment, both of you reveling in the miracle of your beautiful baby girl, awestruck at the realization that you've crafted this extraordinary little being together.

Gazing into his eyes, a kaleidoscope of love, affection, and adoration, he whispers, “I love you, babe,” before tenderly leaning in for a heartfelt kiss.

“I love you too, Yoongi.”

Jimin sweeps into the room, a harbinger of warmth and color, bearing a bouquet of your favorite purple flowers. Your heart flutters as you press a grateful kiss to his cheek, expressing your thanks.

Deep gratitude colors Yoongi's voice as he wraps Jimin in a tight embrace. “Seriously, Jimin, thank you for everything,” he murmurs, sincerity etched in his words. Jimin, with a warm smile, responds, “It's no problem. You're welcome.”

Clutching Jimin's hand, you squeeze it tightly, your eyes reflecting sincere appreciation. “No, thank you. I would never have made it without you,” you express, the gravity of your words resonating in the room.

You express your heartfelt appreciation, looking directly at Jimin as you speak. “You are my best, best friend, Jimin. I love you and thank you,” your words carrying the weight of genuine gratitude. Jimin meets your gaze with tenderness, carefully keeping his eyes on your face, mindful of not stepping on any toes with Yoongi, not that there's anything he should be worried about.

“She’s really cute—the baby, I mean,” Jimin throws his hands up in mock defense, unable to contain his admiration. His genuine enthusiasm shines through as he revels in the adorable sight of your newborn.

Yoongi begins with a playful smirk, “Relax, Jimin. You're allowed to call my wife cute and pretty, and occasionally sneak a glance at her assets if the situation calls for it; like a birth or a bra mishap—but nothing more.” He chuckles, wrapping up his words with a friendly hug, leaving Jimin with a mix of relief and amusement.

Jimin's laughter resonates in response, and just as the sound fills the room, the door swings open, ushering in the rest of your friends.

They flood the room with warm greetings, and your eyes quickly catch Jungkook, who enters with a whimsical unicorn plushie and a vibrant bouquet in shades of purple, pink, and blue.

“These are for you,” he beams, thrusting the bouquet towards Yoongi, who delicately places them on the table beside you.

“Congratulations,” the boys chime in unison, closing in to catch a glimpse of your precious little one.

You shift your baby in your arms, delicately adjusting your gown to reveal the other breast for feeding. With each nourishing moment, you sense post-contractions coursing through your body, a gentle reminder of your uterus gradually returning to its normal size.

Jungkook, Taehyung, and Namjoon inadvertently direct their gaze toward your breasts, drawing Yoongi’s attention. However, Seokjin interjects sternly, “Enough, guys. Show some respect. Quit staring at her breasts while she's feeding. You've seen other breasts before; let's not be rude.”

Jimin lets out a chuckle from his position beside you on the bed, quietly noting that the others should consider themselves lucky that Yoongi didn't snap at them for sneaking glances at your breasts.

“Starting today, a strict no-gazing policy is in effect for anyone trying to sneak a peek at my wife's breasts or her vagina,” Yoongi declares, shooting a pointed yet appreciative smile in Jimin's direction.

Confusion flickers across the faces of all the guys as their gazes shift between Jimin, Yoongi, and then you, signaling that something intriguing might have unfolded.

As their jaws drop in surprise, you casually spill the details, “He played a crucial role in delivering the baby and got an unexpected front-row view of my vagina in the process.”

Yoongi clenches his jaw, his gaze piercing through the room as he asserts, “Yes, that happened. Eyes off—especially you two,” he warns, shooting a stern look at Jungkook and Taehyung, who quickly avert their eyes.

Jungkook hesitantly clears his throat, his curiosity overcoming his apprehension, “___, what's that on your neck?”

A rosy hue tints your cheeks as you recall the passionate love bite that Yoongi left on your neck just before the chaotic journey into labor began, and you find yourself cursing your husband under your breath for the intimate moment that now decorates your skin.

→ Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts @constancelayon @wobblewobble822 @ktownshizzle @moonchild1 @ultimatefangirl0 @baechugff @jimintaemin @parapiop7 @fckkntired @iluvfndms @citypop-princess @tarahardcore @bergandysam @massivelyfullenthusiast @tatyhend @gimeow *strikethrough means tumblr isn’t letting me tag you :( **if you wish to be removed from the taglist, let me know 🌸

What do you think??? Any kind of feedback is much appreciated ✨

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[sanjoongie]

Bet!

❦ Pairing: Vampire Hunter! Reader (f) x Vampire! Jake (Enhypen)

❦ Genre: modern vampire au, co-workers to lovers? (think buffy and spike)

❦ Warnings: oral (f receiving), bite kink, exhibitionism, public sex, mentions of blood, hypnosis, death

❦Word Count: 1,195

❦Rating: 18+ MDNI, smut

❦Summary: Jake makes a bet with you. If he can manage to make you cum then he gets to bite you too

❦Dedication: @mejuii & @downtoamagicalland because they’ll always read what i write, no matter the cost :3 AND @beomgyusbabygirl for listening to me talk about it 😭

You were desperate to keep your hips from twitching upwards but it was almost becoming an impossible mission at this point.

“What’s wrong, Miss Vampire Hunter?” Jake drawled from between your legs, “I thought you said I couldn't possibly make you cum?”

How did you end up in this particular position, you may wonder? Jake was a vampire who was also your informant. If you needed to pursue a rogue vampire or investigate some questionable hypnosis situations, Jake was your go-to guy. Charming with his good boy looks but with a mouth dirtier than a whores, it was an easy choice to keep him an arm's length away. Especially considering the both of you were on two different sides of an on-going, underground war. But then Jake decided to take your distant attitude as a challenge.

“Have you ever been bitten?” Jake asked seemingly nonchalantly as he wrote down an address for you. Seems there had been sightings of a vampire who was luring a girl by pretending to be her dead boyfriend. 

You sent him a look of disbelief that he couldn't possibly see, with his neck bent over the paper he was diligently writing on. “No? Why would you ask?”

Jake shrugged and handed you the paper. “It could have happened while you were staking one of us. I was just curious.”

You rolled your eyes. “Puh-lease,” You drew out the word into two syllables, “Like I’d be dumb enough to let myself get bit.”

Jake cocked his head curiously, tongue playing over his lip piercing. “You’re not even a little bit curious? Don’t you think you should know? To sympathize with the people you save or just to be aware of your profession?”

You shook your head. You moved to take the paper from him. “I don’t think half those vampires know how to bite without tearing your neck apart. Just like most men can’t perform oral.”

Jake frowned deeply. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He hasn’t let go of the paper yet.

“It means,” You frowned back at him, tugging at the paper, “Why would I let some bloodthirsty creature bite me when I can’t even trust a man to--JAKE, GIVE ME THE DAMN PAPER!” You shouted in frustration.

A teasing smile pulled at his charming features. “How 'bout we make a bet then? If I can make you come, I will bite you.”

“I don’t fucking think so,” You said without even contemplating it.

Jake’s smile widened. “What’s wrong? Think you’ll lose that bet?”

“No! Are you even listening to me? If I don’t trust you to bite me, I certainly don’t trust you between my legs!”

Jake nodded resolutely. “I can do it.”

“Sir, you are getting on my nerves,” You growled, shaking a finger at him in warning. 

Then, the bugger had the audacity to capture the tip of your finger between his teeth, his canines showing now. And your pupils blew wide in reaction. Shit.

“Fine! And if you can’t, you will never make another pass at me,” You vowed.

“Scouts Honor,” Jake held two fingers up but they were crossed, not put together. 

Jake escorted you into a nearby alley, where you could still hear the murmur of the crowd and the traffic but far enough that no one would know what was going on unless they walked down the alley itself. Your head hit the brick wall behind you, trying to quell the cord of lust that was winding tighter and tighter in your stomach. 

Jake’s eyes swirled below you and you knew he was triggering a power of his: telepathy.

Go ahead, moan my name, no one can hear you

“I don’t feel the need,” You said through gritted teeth.

Jake’s tongue swirled around your clit lazily, leg still over one of his shoulders. He started to work his middle finger into your hole and you slammed your fist against the brick, hoping for some pain to clear your head. 

Come on, admit it, Jake’s words swirled inside of your head. His tongue was working up your clit and he was already pushing another finger inside of you. You’re enjoying yourself

You tried to think of every poor girl that had ever fallen victim to a hypnosis from a vampire and lured back to his kiss to get sucked dry. You tried to think of the two puncture wounds that had long dried up on a corpse. Anything to keep your impending orgasm from exploding over you but it was starting to become a lost cause.

Make a mess of my face so I can bite you

That was the last shred of sanity you had left. You cried out desperately, loudly and with enthusiasm as pleasure raced through all of your nerves. Damn, Jake knew how to give head. And just as your orgasm washed through you, Jake moved his mouth to your plush thigh and bit down delicately. Tiny streams of blood pushed from the small holes he created and he licked those lines like you were a melting popsicle. 

"Oh my god," You exclaimed, breathing heavily.

"Jake, actually. Thought you'd have learned that by now," Jake quipped. He daintily licked the holes to seal them and sat back on his heels, letting your leg down.

You pulled down your short skirt quickly. You always dressed like a slut on the hunt for a vampire fang bang, just in case anyone was suspicious of a lonely human wandering into the vampire section of town. You were starting to think that figuratively was biting you in the ass.

"Are you satisfied?" You grumbled, "Our working relationship is ruined now, you damn vampire."

Jake slammed an open hand against the brick, cracking the stone and allowing a poof of dust to fall around you. "That's Mister Vampire to you, Miss Vampire Hunter."

You rolled your eyes. "Is my blood that invigorating, Jakey?" You cooed, not intimidated in the slightest.

Jake was back to his charming self. "To answer your question, no, I'm not satisfied. I'm high on your blood and I have a raging hard on."

Your eyes moved down to his slacks and the clear dick imprint against them. Your eyes moved back up to meet with his brown ones, swirling with red. "I did not sign up for that."

Jake started to play with his lip ring again. "So you're fine with me finding relief with someone else then?"

You narrowed your eyes at the vampire who was suddenly even more cocky, or was it borderline confident? "Jake, I told you, I never want to hear about what you do as a vampire. I just need your information. I don't want to muck about in that gray area and have to hunt you down."

Jake looked smug now. "Well, apparently you need my tongue and fangs now as well."

You visibly winced at his remark. Fuck. 

Want to bet that I can't make you come again?

"Get out of my head, Jake," You growled. Your fingers inched towards the stake you kept firmly between your breasts.

"Only if I can get between your thighs again~"

You sighed. "Who needs who again?"

[lightofraye]

The reason(s) I’m anti-Danneel

Hello all!

This is actually my first official anti-Danneel post as opposed to reblogging an anti post or responding to anons who somehow found me.

First, a note: some of what I'm posting are reposts from other now defunct/deactivated Tumblrs that I was able--thanks to the Wayback Machine and/or Tumblr preserving the reblogs with information--so whenever possible, I will credit the original authors. It's because of them that I was able to find out all the crap Danneel had done and the evidence.

If it's a "Jensen said this", don't ask me where precisely, because there are way too many cons, panels, interviews. Just trust that Jensen did say it, okay?

Now... to begin with the biggest crime to lay at Danneel's feet: Abuse.

So I'm going to preface this with a content warning/trigger warning. If you are bothered by description of abuse, even emotional abuse, I advise you to skip. I will not be held responsible for how upsetting this might get. You've been warned.

Now to begin! Here's the issues I've noticed (and others). Hat tip to @taraslittlecorner (now defunct/deactivated) for the original post that I was thankfully able to find on the Wayback Machine.

I'll add a cut here because it's going to get long!

Public Humiliation:

Jensen eating gummy bears. This post was made as a public stab at Jensen for the amount of gummy bears he was eating. It was a stab at not only his eating habits/weight, but it was also a stab at him being greedy or gluttonous.

Jensen on the carousel. Another stab at Jensen about his weight.

The whole AD house tour is full of stabs at Jensen. She takes a swipe at everything from him not wanting to change the children’s diapers, not cleaning the toilets, not cooking, and not being able to organize or clean behind himself. (There’s a lot of sketchy things in that video as well.) She even made fun of him for being proud of his side of the closet for being tidy.

Jensen didn't cry at the birth of his children. Yet another attempt at making an important, emotional moment in Jensen’s life about her, as well making Jensen seem as if he is emotionless and detached from his family and children, and she’s the one that’s so sensitive.

The FBBC interview. Now, that interviewer sucked ass too, let’s not kid ourselves, that was one of the worst interviews I’ve ever seen in my life. Elta continually trying to make Jensen look lazy, saying that he didn’t smell good, saying that she was pregnant knowing it made him uncomfortable. All of this was with one goal, to humiliate him.

The gaslighting hairdresser. You will never convince me Elta put this woman up to posting this photoshopped, off guard, horrible pic of Jensen and herself, as well as disclosing the location of his family in order to make it look as if she’s been there the whole time when really she’s not. Jensen is very self conscious about his appearance, and this showed him in a bad light, again to humiliate him and make him look like a slob. (That seems to be her MO.)

(These are just the ones we’re all familiar with, but if you guys send more receipts you want to add to this I’d be glad to add them to it as a receipt collection.)

2. Controlling: This is another all day topic. Seriously, we could talk all day about how one can be considered controlling in a relationship, and Elta is no different. The biggest and most public thing that we can see is her constant control over his Social Media.

Now, we know good and damn well that she’s also doing this to hold up to her facade of a “happily married couple”, but it’s also a way of controlling his interactions with other women, (originally he was never allowed to follow women on Social Media; something that has recently changed since The Boys and Big Sky has happened), and to keep track of who he’s talking to and what he’s doing.

Access to one’s cellphone, email address, and other social media is almost as good as attaching a GPS onto a person. If she access his cloud, she can access everything from text messages he’s sent to his most recent emails to his employers.

I have some proof but it will take time to document all of them.

**For those SPN buffs out there. You will also notice that Dean got a whole lot less action between the sheets and with female guest stars after his wedding to Elta, and that’s not a coincidence.**

Jealousy, or extreme jealousy in Elta’s case, can also be the mark of an abuser. The NEED to maintain that state of control, and if he get’s attached to another woman that is paying him better attention, he may try and break things off with her.

3. Isolation: If you’ve noticed Jensen hardly sees his family anymore. He used to speak of his family often, now it’s rare that he’s ever seen with them. They usually have to come to Dallas Con just to see him, and the only actual evidence we have of Elta being there with them all in years is a sketchy ass post on Instagram of Thanksgiving a few years back. Jensen did take his dad, brother, and brother-in law to the Nascar event he recently attended. Other than that, there has been little to no evidence of contact with his family at all as the years progressed, and it’s gotten worse as the years pass of that “marriage.”

He also seems to have shorted his circle of friends to people she gets along with. Marcus, Steve, etc. And even on “vacations” it’s surrounded by her little group of mooching family members and friends: New Orleans, she brought her brother and mother, as well as Steve Carlson and Marcus. Marcus even attended the trip to Cali when they went to the Golden Globes after party.

If you really take time and look, he’s rarely seen with anyone that ELTA doesn’t get along with, or are friends with. He doesn’t even hang out with Jared outside of Canada like he used too, and that should raise suspicious eyebrows alone.

4. Hypersensitivity:

We’ve seen this in the countless attacks Elta, as well as her friends, feel the need to do to SPN fans, or anyone that questions the legitimacy of anything she does or post. I don’t have all of these anymore on hand, but will add the links if I can find them. She’s called fans “fat whores”, anti joker face used to have the receipts, they went on for a while. You don’t have to dig very deep to find this stuff people.

She’s even had Clif write long ass post in order to make it looks as if she’s been so targeted when she just really brings all this shit on herself. She feels threatened because somewhere deep down, she knows she’s doing wrong. You know how the old saying goes, the guilty dog barks? Well, Elta barks a lot.

Even Jensen can get a little defensive when they attack her at cons and to his face. He knows that if he doesn’t defend her, or trys to stand up for himself there will be repercussions. “I don’t tell my wife what to do. I’m not stupid, or suicidal.”

5. Unexplained injury, or weight-loss: Since about 2018, Jensen has progressively lost weight. To the point that the FBBC instagram page even removed the photo I used in this example because people were commenting on Jensen’s weightloss. They try to explain it away in marathon training, but we all know that’s not the case. The constant attacks she’s made against his weight are starting to show.

Every time Jensen has to quarantine with her he starts to look like death warmed over, weight drop, sickly looking skin color, (which is also a sign of malnutrition), and that dead look we can’t get seem to forget. Then we get him back to work, and it’s almost an immediate improvement.

Then there is the chunk that’s missing out of his nose now because of a nose injury that kept being explained in different instances at the same event as to how he even got it. It first appeared a day after the FBBC family reunion event that took place in May of 2018 in a post made by Elta of Jensen playing with the kids, and people thought it was just a breathe right strip.

If you look closely, you can even see that his eyes looked to be blacked, as if he’d somehow broken his nose.Once he got ot an event for Elta’s Limbo Jewelry line launch in NYC, he kept changing the story as to how he got said injury. First he told fans that he’d hurt it by hitting a pool wall while playing with his kids. Then he said he’d dropped a keg on it. Well, if you’ve ever worked for a bar or been around kegs you know those things are heavy, and that story is a blatant lie.

CONSTANTLY SHIFTING STORIES OF HOW AN INJURY OCCURRED ARE ONE HELL OF A RED FLAG PEOPLE!!

If it were Elta with the injury, and she kept changing the story as to how she got it, there would have been questions asked; but since Jensen is a man it was never looked into.

Take all these for what you will guys! It’s only my observations and opinions! You may not agree, but I know you all can agree that if Jensen were female, this conversation would have happened a LONG time ago.

Men can be victims of domestic abuse/violence, and the evidence is there! I’m sure there is more, and if you send it to me via submission, even if you want to keep quiet and not put your handle on there I will add the evidence to this post.

THIS MAN DESERVES BETTER!!

[soleilnomoon]

hey miss kaia 😼 I wasn’t sure if I should message you or send it this way butttt I’d love a strawberry-mango mai tai (crocodile or shanks) w/ songs 12, 15, and 23 from the playlist 👩🏾‍💻

hiiiii bb 🥰️ ty for requesting! i am so so sorry this took so long, but it’s here at last. also this was my first time writing crocodile, so i was v excited and wrote more than necessary but lbr i’m a long-winded mfer ok, that’s just how it is there’s no cure unfortunately; anyway i like how it turned out and if i kept writing we’d be here forever ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

2.1k words (don’t look at me), fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni; fluff if you count him not choking her as fluff & smut (and angst that u didn’t ask for but i gave it to u bc i’m unwell like that 😊; feat. post-time skip crocodile in denial (he’s king of it clearly), reader who is (rightfully) in her feelings abt everything, smoking, established relationship, exes 2 lovers bc that’s my jam, a lil bit of miscommunication, crocodile is bad at emotions and reader is too emotional — they’re perfect for each other obvy — rough sex, is it considered knife play if he has a hook (asking 4 a friend), a lot of kissing (hello romance), probably other stuff but idr. crocodile comes w. his own damn warning tbqh. reader sippin that clown girl juice like a champ, i’m proud <3

(if u see spelling/grammar mistakes no u didn’t 💕)

it’s late at night when he arrives at your doorstep; you’re in the middle of flipping through a magazine, the ceiling fan silent and slow, the heat a little more than tolerable as you sip a cool drink. you have no intention of entertaining anyone, but when you recognize the heaviness behind the loud knocks, you make an exception.

of course, you do, there’s no other choice but to do so.

sir crocodile is a man that takes, and takes, and takes without remorse; there’s an insatiable greed — hunger, rather — that he can’t seem to satisfy. or maybe it’s that he’s been denying himself for years and it’s finally become too much for him. a small, quiet buzz infiltrates your body when you yank open the door. you half expect to find someone else there, so you stare openly, disbelief and shock holding you in place.

he peers down at you when you stand there and don’t bother to invite him inside. he knows his presence is probably more than you can handle, but he’s a selfish man and his time is very limited right now. with a subtle nod of his head, almost as if he’s telling — no, commanding — you to let him in; he’s always been like that, wordless commands that he expects to be followed without question.

if you had more sense, you’d slam the door in his face. but sadly, you don’t.

you try not to appear too affected, but as crocodile walks inside, dark eyes taking a sweeping glance around your modest living space, you suddenly remember how to speak.

“h-how did you find me?” your voice is much too soft and timid, something he clicks his tongue at, annoyance slightly bubbling underneath his skin. maybe it’s because he hasn’t seen you in so long, or maybe it’s because he’s much too taken by your beauty — something he tried to forget but was wholly unsuccessful.

he doesn’t spare you another glance as he hangs up his coat, doesn’t bother asking for permission before he rummages through the cabinets in your kitchen to pour himself a drink, and doesn’t think anything of his overly familiar actions in a home that doesn’t belong to him when he makes himself comfortable on one of the plush armchairs in the living room.

you scurry after him, steps soft and hurried, the smoke from his cigar wafting towards you the closer you get. he tilts his head back and exhales deeply, eyes closed as he blows smoke above him — a heady, intoxicating scent that triggers memories of the nights you spent with him before.

not that it matters, but crocodile’s nerves got the best of him before he arrived; he hasn’t seen you in two and a half years, and he always wondered if someone finally snatched you up. he told himself, a long time ago, that he would wreck whatever relationship you found yourself in anyway, but the uncertainty still lingered.

do you still care for him like you claimed you always would?

it’s a question he refuses to ask you because he’s convinced that the answer will ruin his plans no matter what your response is.

when you finally snap out of that momentary stupor, you stand in front of him, eyes glossy, as if you’re holding back years’ worth of tears. but somehow, you both fall back into the same routine you swore you’d never go back to — you straddle his lap, shorts riding up your plush thighs, his golden hook cold as he uses it to lift your chin up.

you remind yourself to keep focused, to not fall for his charm again. you don’t tell him that you’ve stayed single this whole time, mostly because everyone who came into your life after him didn’t compare.

“i hate the smell of smoke,” you declare boldly, voice strained, and maybe a little needy — even though you closely press yourself to him, even though you’re shamelessly rubbing yourself against him with slow, deliberate rolls of your hips. an inescapable, irritating heat passes through him, threatening to burn him alive; already his cock gets stiff when you move on him like that. if he had a bit more sense in him, he’d just leave right now.

but old habits die hard, and for some reason, your presence alone throws him off completely.

in a good way. even though he claims otherwise.

he reminds himself that he’s only here to talk as he runs his large hand along your thigh, admiring the smoothness of your skin — the sensation oddly calming to him. the feel of his rings along the back of your thigh triggers a vivid memory that makes you inhale sharply — you remember that the last time you saw him, you were on your knees and gagging on his cock. that night he fucked you like he knew he’d never see you again; you remember how you felt like melting into him every time he buried his cock deeply in your cunt.

you want to hate him all over and never think about him again.

except you can’t, can you?

there’s a brief pause before he takes another drag from his cigar; and when he lets the silence hang for longer than necessary, you find it hard to breathe.

“and i hate liars,” crocodile says finally, conveniently forgetting that he’s a notorious liar himself. you blush and turn your face at the hidden meaning behind his words — a poor attempt to deny it — but when you look back at him, he blows smoke above your head and fixes you with a pointed look.

an absurd thought occurs, making you curl your fingers as you tug on his shirt and finally question his reappearance. jealousy coils itself tightly around your legs, making your movements sluggish and ineffective. unbecoming, utterly childish, and unavoidable — but you know he won’t listen to that sort of rhetoric. not after being away from you for so long.

you lick your lips and muster enough courage to say, “i wrote to you.” several times, in fact. you figured he was either dead or didn’t want to speak to you. a part of him wants to ask if you’re serious, but from your demure demeanor, he already knows the answer.

crocodile lets out a humorless, pitying laugh.

“it must be nice to live in delusion,” he says bitterly. you look at him, confusion evident in the way you press your lips together as your brows slope down slowly — so he just sighs, defeated by your genuine naivety that he finds terribly charming. when he drags the curve of his golden hook along your jaw, your starts beating faster than necessary, the noise so loud you can barely think straight.

he knows that when he talks to you, he has to… mind how he phrases things, and while it annoys him, he does it anyway. “do you think impel down just allows former warlords the luxury of personal mail?” it’s a rhetorical question, but you shake your head no anyway, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you grab onto his shirt again.

guilt has a nasty habit of making him more considerate than he’d care to be, especially if that guilt comes from you. it has him putting out his cigar and tossing it onto the floor; he’s not sure who kisses who first, but his lips slant against yours and move with familiarity.

your soft whimpers are a honeyed, melodic experience; they wrap around him possessively, driving him to tear through your clothes with his hook, shredding the fabric into large, unusable pieces that languidly slide off your body. a flush settles on your skin, making you feel lightheaded — each kiss more electrifying than the last as he licks inside of your mouth, tongue stroking against yours hotly.

crocodile pulls away suddenly, already feeling like the control he’s kept is practically nonexistent because your mouth is much sweeter than he remembers. your fingers tremble slightly and a breathy moan tumbles out of you when he slaps your ass hard.

the impact is a surprise — one that has you whine pitifully, arousal dripping from your slit in a way that should be embarrassing, but you’re too far gone to care. a lust-induced haze circles around him, nearly clouding his vision as you unbutton his shirt, fingers roaming against his stomach, exploring the dips and grooves between his abs. your touch is much too gentle for a man like him; he knows you deserve better, but he’s too selfish to tell you that. his cock is stiff and heavy in his pants; you relieve that ache as soon as you tug his zipper down and wrap your soft hands around him.

he watches you, amused at your focus and determination when you stroke him faster; and while he’d like to take his time with you, he doesn’t have that luxury tonight. he grabs onto your wrist, halting your movements quickly before biting your lower lip and kissing you greedily; it’s all-consuming, scalding, and possessive.

you should ask him why he’s kissing you like that when he has no intention of staying, but you know it would be an unfair question given his circumstances.

still, your curiosity eats you alive, although not for long.

he lifts you with ease and you sink down onto his thick cock, pussy tight and warm. part of what kept him sane while he was in prison was thinking of you and how much he missed being with you like this — another truth he refuses to reveal, deciding to suffer through the consequences of another failed confession on his part.

you scratch at the skin on the back of his neck the moment he bucks his hips against yours, burying most of his cock inside of you. his thrusts are quick and brutal; you do your best to match his movements, moaning loudly as he wraps an arm around you. he kisses down the length of your neck, teeth grazing your skin roughly as he bites and sucks on your skin harshly. you know there’ll be bruises and marks in the morning, but you don’t care.

all you care about is enjoying this moment with him, one that you’ll commit to memory forever.

his name comes out of your mouth sweetly, like a rhythmic and lyrical poem you crafted for him specifically. he shouldn’t care about any of that, but he can’t stop himself; and maybe he’s just tired of denying it. he tells himself that when he fucks you harder, breasts bouncing and rubbing against his hard chest; he tells himself that when he angles his hips, thrusts frenzied and powerful.

sweat glides down your skin and the heat threatens to suffocate you, both of you are panting and moaning in between kisses. you doubt your poor little heart can take much more of this, but you power through anyway. and maybe it’s because you’re tugging on his hair roughly, almost impatiently, but he takes that as a challenge, holding you steady as his cock bullies into your wet cunt. between the lewd, squelching sounds coming from your pussy and the way he simply can’t stop kissing you — like there’s a thirst he can’t seem to quench, no matter how many times he fucks you — a warmth spreads through your chest.

unbeknownst to you, though, he’s going through something similar; he realizes, belatedly, that he might not be able to let you go after this. impossible thoughts pummel through his mind, ones that he desperately tries to shove aside. intimacy and vulnerability are deadly, in his opinion, but he decides to make an exception for you — and only you.

you cum unexpectedly, hips bucking against his wildly, pussy clenching around his thick girth without remorse. you actually feel your heart skip a beat, like you’re in some romance novel, when he calls out your name — his own orgasm finding him shortly after, thrusts slowing, his cum thick and hot as it spills inside of you.

your legs turn to jelly, making it impossible to move right away, so you slump against him weakly and take deep breaths to calm yourself. he closes his eyes briefly and runs his hand up and down your back; here’s another opportune moment to say something, to say anything, but he swallows back the words, instead opting to kiss your forehead softly.

“you’re an impossible man,” you say with a sigh, blinking as you look up at him; he raises a brow at that, but doesn’t offer a rebuttal. “don’t break my heart.” you jab a finger at his chest, but your features soften when he chuckles at your demand.

another long silence follows, before crocodile speaks again, voice low, but certain as he says, “alright, i won’t.”

[themultifandomgal]

Hey you! I just read that you take requests for peaky blinders and I’m wondering if you could maybe write something for John x reader? Like from s1 when he calls for a family meeting, that he wants to marry Lizzie. But reader is there maybe she works with Grace at the bar and has known John since they were young. She was in love with him but he married Martha, reader helped with their kids and her births and when his wife died she stayed around to help John. But he never thought she looked at him like anything more than a brother. But Polly knew and Tommy too, so when John asks them about Lizzie in front of you. They all tell him he’s blind to not see how reader loves him and his kids. She is really sad cause she thinks he’s going through with the wedding to Lizzie but when he gets home that night and she’s watching the kids he finally talks to her and asks her how she really feels. Like he would see her in such a loving way he couldn’t even consider she’d ever want a man like him. A real cute ending would be lovely

John Shelby- Tell Me The Truth Pt1

I just realised writing this how similar to my last request this one is so this time I’ve used actual dialogue from the season 1. Might make this one into a little series. Hope you enjoy.

Also trigger warnings- swearing, talking about vomit, violence, the usual peaky blinders stuff.

“Oh for fucks sake” YN groans as a man vomits at the bar “I gotta clean that up now, fucking twat go ‘ome to ya wife”

“Why d’ya think I’m ‘ere love” the chap wipes the vomit from his mouth making YN shudder a little. Rolling her eyes YN goes to get her mop and bucket while she leaves Freddie and Tommy to talk, although knowing it may end up in someone getting hurt

“Hi YN” Finn, the youngest Shelby sibling says smiling at her

“Hey Finn, why aren’t ya at school” the boy shrugs his shoulders

“Borin’”

“It may be borin’ but do ya wanna end up like ya brothers? an alcoholic, an other a deceiver, another married at 17 because he fucked some poor girl. Get yourself some juice then head back to school”

“Fine” the boy whines but does as he’s told, well kind off. YN doesn’t need to know that he’s took the juice and headed off home.

Walking back to the bar with a mop and bucket and some other cleaning supplies, she now sees Tommy and Freddie holding Danny up. Glass and chairs thrown everywhere

“Oh hell did I do it again?” he asks

“You did it again Danny”

“Miss YN I’m so sorry” Danny cries

“It’s ok Danny” YN says sympathising with him. She knows better than anyone how the war has changed so many people and families. She worked as a nurse to help the injured soldiers. Combat Fatigue, or shell shock is what they called it when men would return home, but they weren’t themselves. Unfortunately Danny, once a sweet caring man, now has moments where he forgets where he is. Just a noise could set him off. Knowing this YN knows that she shouldn’t be harsh on him. It’s not his fault

“Mr Shelby you have to do something about him”

“Damn right Harry. You pay the peaky blinders a lot of money for protection. Your the law around here now, aren’t ya Tommy?” Freddie say as Tommy takes a swig of whiskey

“And what would you suggest? Hm? Putting a bullet through his head? Kill an innocent man? Thought you would have done enough of that during the war”

“YN back to work” Harry says pointing at the girl

“Sorry ‘man’s business’ right? that’s a load of fucking bollocks and you know that”

“Harry get YN to drop the bill off at the betting shop. We’ll take care of this” Tommy says putting his cap back on and walking out of the bar

“I don’t know why you’re still involved with that lot” Harry mutters grabbing a broom. YN shrugs

“Grew up with John boy didn’t I. They’re family”

“Yet the man you love married another. I’d leave them before they break you” with that Harry gets to sweeping the floor. What Harry said hurt YN, not the part about them breaking her, no. They wouldn’t do that, the Shelby’s all treat YN as family. The part that hurt YN was that John married Martha, YN’s best friend. Tommy always said it was only because he got her pregnant and wanted to do the right thing, but YN always wondered if he hadn’t of got Martha pregnant would he have ever married her? Would’ve he and YN had a chance? Well it’s to late now. John married Martha and now is a widower with 4 children who YN had help Polly deliver.

Later that evening YN walks home, having to pass Johns house where she can hear the chaos that is bath and bed time. Going against her better judgement, YN finds her feet making their way to Johns house and knocking on the door. A disheveled John answers the door

“Oh thank god your here. I don’t know how Martha did this everyday” sighing YN gives him a weak smile entering his house

“Just get a glass of whiskey for me for when we’re done”

[lainiespicewrites]

Hi friends!

So I’m tagging everyone that’s on the tag list for Coach Sy in this! Just because I’m not sure who all my mutuals are yet. Or how else to get this out there to the people I think are actually wanting to read my Walter story 😂🥲 Anyway! I just wanted to get some feedback! You totally don’t have to answer or say anything or interact at all obviously. Because you’re human and you all have free will! But …I’m rambling because I’m nervous …wow I really am turning into my self insert characters …or I write myself well…and I’m deflecting

Okay getting to my point! I’ve started my Walter story (literally have not even introduced him yet and I’m already panicking and doubting myself) but what I’ve realized is that because Walter is a comfort character to me. Because he is a police officer. And how his whole job is safety, I’ve been using this story as like a form of therapy? And started to recount my own Sexual assault and have been sort of trauma dumping into this story. Which has been a great release.

Night hunter the movie is super heavy. We all made a conscious choice to watch it. Some of us just because Henry is in it though. And might not like heavy triggering content like that. Others like myself. Might oddly find comfort in intense films like that. What I’m trying to say or ask is. Is this a theme you guys are okay with reading? It’s a lot different from coach Sy obviously which is healing in a different way because it’s so soft and sweet and comforting. And Walt will be too but. I just have to get the trauma out. Either way I think I’m gonna finish the story. But what I’m asking is do you guys want me to post it …or rework something else for Walter?

I’m not gonna be offended! I understand it! I’m totally okay with putting that out there because it helps me. And I know that if it helps me it’s very likely someone could connect with it and help others. I just didn’t realize that I was ready to pretty much tell the exact situation in a story. Sorry this is such a heavy subject guys. I love writing and I love that it brings us together and that we all can connect over someone that we love and brings us joy and comfort!

That’s kinda how I stumbled so hard into Henry! I knew of him but I hadn’t seen much of his stuff. But I saw him in Enola Holmes and (well first of all he looked damn good) but he was so big and something about him felt safe and protective. I’ve kind of hidden in that for a while.

Wow didn’t mean to get all emotional! But that’s tumblr! Thank you guys for all the love! Again you don’t have to say anything! If I don’t get too many responses I’ll probably just post it and see what the response is! I honestly love the little fan club i feel like I’ve gained here! You guys are awesome!!! ❤️🥰

Leave a comment, or reblog that’s totally fine, or if you’re more comfortable messaging me my dms always open! I just wanna make sure we’re all comfortable and safe here obviously I’d use tigger warnings and stuff but I also don’t want to post it if the majority of people won’t be comfortable. 💕

Tumblr tag list

@summersong69 @carrie80reads @identity2212 @caramariehurst @redheadrouge @warriormirkwood @gummydummy19 @deandoesthingstome @shellyshellshell @mary-ann84 @starfirewildheart @foxyjwls007

[daryldixonfanfiction]

What you fight for! Pt.4- Claimed

Masterlist

Summary: On the road Daryl is forced to join a motorcycle gang in order to survive Whether he likes it or not.

Warnings: age gape, mentions/ attempt to SA, groping, creepy men, kidnaping, angst, possessive Daryl, protective Daryl, fluff and typical twd violence and gore.

WC: 8.9k

Daryl was so tired he didn't realize he had fallen asleep, sitting in the middle of the road with his head hanging in exhaustion. He had just lost the last person he cared for and the point to keep on felt lost. It was that same heavy feeling of defeat when the prison had fallen. His newfound family was gone, his brother and then Julia. He didn't care for walkers nor the world around him, nothing matters at this moment. He just wanted to deseper, ses to exist into nothing.

He wakes when seven men surround him.

Daryl glances as one of the men thread forward, he wasn't gonna get killed by some assholes after all.

“Well, lookit here.” The man spoke.

Daryl proceeded not to move, but when the man got too close Daryl clocks him in the face, aiming his crossbow at his head. The men surrounding him pointed their guns, but Daryl showed no indication of stepping down.

“Damn it, hold up!” The man on the ground ordered.

He looked to be in his mid fifties, rugged with untrimmed hair and beard, the man was the leader of the motorbike gang.

“I’m claiming the vest. I like them wings.” A man from behind spoke, but Daryl’s only focus was on the man in front of him.

“Hold up.” The leader ordered again, and laughed as he stood to his feat. “A bowman. I respect that.” He compliments. “See, a man with a rifle, he could have been some kind of photographer or soccer coach back in the day. But a bowman’s a bowman through and through. What you got there, 150-pound draw weight? I’ll be donkey-licked if that doesn't fire at least 300 feet per second. I’ve been looking for a weapon like that. Of course, I’d want one with a bit more ammo and minus the oblongata stains.”

The abnoxes man from behind spoke again, “Get yourself in some trouble, partner?” And this time Daryl did notice him but ignored him, narrowing his eyes at the leader before him.

The leader continued, “You pull that trigger, these boys are gonna drop you several times over. What you want?” No response, he continued. “Come on, fella, suicide is stupid.” Then he smiled and asked, “Why hurt yourself when you can hurt other people?......Name's Joe.” The leader offered.

Daryl knew how dangerous it was to be on your own and to be truthful he couldn't stomach the idea just after losing Julia. He knew they were bad right off the bat, but what he also knew was he would easily fit in with these types of men, because that was what he did hanging with his brother when he wasn't locked up or wherever the hell he was when he wasn't around. So he stands down, and so does Joe's men.

Daryl looks at Joe, “Daryl,” he offers his name in return and joins them. But only for the time being he tells himself.

The day went by fast, he hanged back, none of the men showed any interest in talking to him along the road, he wasn't much of a talker himself, he rather be left alone. The group reminded way too much of Merle and his life before everything was overrun, but he rather not think about that. He thought of her, of Julia, over and over again. Twisting everything that went down before losing her. Meaby If he had done something different or just been fast enuff, just maybe Julia would be here, walking by his side.

They set up camp in the wods to rest for the night.

The forest floor sadly reminded him of her, her soft snores, the little sounds she would make and how easily she found comfort in him; he had taken it for granted because he thought they would have more time. It felt like she would appear right there beside him, that yesterday was no more than a bad dream.

He didn't long for sleep to take him but neither did he want to be awake.

Daryl woke at dawn.

Unable to stand the way he was feeling, he went off to fend for himself, leaving the stuff he had scavenged on the road at camp.

It was good game for rabbits, he could tell by the tracks. Patiently waiting for the rabbit to come within shooting distance. He kneeled, steadily aiming, elining the crossbow to get the perfect shot. One steady breath and he fired. His bolt hit the target but so did someone else from behind. Daryl gets up and looks at the same man that had wanted to claim his west, holding a compound bow, giving him a smug smile.

“What the hell are you doing?” Daryl said angrily.

“Catch’n me some breakfast.”

Daryl walked towards the dead rabbit, “That’s mine.”

“My arrow’s the one that hit first. Cottontail belongs to me.” The man insisted as of fact. Daryl kneels, taking out the arrows of the rabbit and continued, “Been out here since before the sun came up.”

“You see, the rules of the hunt don’t mean jack out here. Now that rabbit you’re holding-,” Daryl tossed the man's arrow, he could care less about what he had to say, it was his and he could tell him nothing. “Is claimed, boy. Claim whether you like it or not. So I was you, I’d hand it over. Now, before you get to wishing you ain’t never even got out of bed this morning.” The man threatened.

Daryl walked up to him, closing their distance, caring himself with confident strides. He knew what this was but he could care less, he wanted simply to be done with the conversation, “It ain’t yours.” Daryl told him. But the man had sensed Daryl's sullen demeanor ever since he joined them, the man began, in knowing.

“You know, I’ll bet this bitch got you all messed up, hmm?” Daryl ignores the man's insinuation “Am I right?” The man said, smiling, Daryl gave him a glare and prosedes to walk past him.

“Got you walking around here like a dead man who just lost himself a piece of tail.” He taunts, and that got Daryl to stop in his tracks, angel wings facing the man. “Must have been a good’un. Tell me something. Was it one of the little’uns? ‘Cause they don’t last too long out here.”

Daryl had always struggled keeping his temper at bay, controlling it. He could feel that dark part of him slowly coming back, that part of his past he thought he had left behind sins finding his newfound family. But they were all gone. He had tried to control it, to refrain himself from giving the abnoxes man the satisfaction of getting a raise out of him. He tried to stay calm, and at some point it seemed easier. He had been more in control of himself - hiding his emotions from enemies and friends alike. But every word leaving the man's mouth made him feel pure, burning, animalistic rage. He didn't care about the repocations his actions would have. If he wanted to rile him up, he would show him exactly what happened to those who crossed the line. The urge to simply make the man shut his fucking mouth -to inflict pain. He could see himself doing it, enjoying it even.

If Julia knew what he was thinking, what he was about to do, she would surely fear for what his hands were capable of. But Julia wasn't here, so what did it matter?

Slowly Daryl reached for his knife, unholstering it, gripping the hilt as he had become completely clouded by rage. Every muscle in his body was tense with adrenaline pumping through his veins. Daryl charged towards the man, but in the same second Joe held him back before he could even attempt to stab him and calmly stepped between the two men, breaking up the fight that was about to unfold.

“Easy, fellas, easy. Let’s just put our weapons down. See if we can’t figure out what’s really the problem here, huh?” Joe spoke with calm.

Daryl held a cold unforgiving gaze upon the man that only could be described as a death glare. The man kept smiling that shit-eting grin, his reaction had clearly satisfied him as if this was all a game. But this was no game for Daryl, If Joe hadn't stepped in the moment he did, he would be a dead man right now.

The altercation that morning had him a lot to think about. There were rules so things wouldn't get so tense within the group. As Joe had put it, "Going it alone, that ain't an option nowadays. Still it is survival of the fittest. That's a paradox right there." When the members wanted to mark something as their own they said the word "Claimed." And Daryl had denied to claim anything, he thought the whole thing was stupid as he believed there were no rules no more, he had his own code of course that he followed like the law itself.

The day continued, Joe and Daryl walked along one another along a raile road with the grope infront of them. Daryl thought the leader was alright by him, it didn't mean he liked him, he could stand him and hold a conversation, though Joe was the one who mostly did the talking as Daryl was a man of few words. Their conversation shifted focus to Daryl when Joe asked,

“So what’s the plan, Daryl?

“How so?” Daryl asked in return.

“You're with us now, but you ain’t soon?”

“Yep.” Daryl confirmed looking at the ground as they walked. Joe continued trying to get a concrete answer out of him, “So what’s the plan?”

To be truthful, Daryl didn't have a solid plan yet, but now when Joe asked him he found his first thought was of Julia. He didn't know what had happened to her other than being kidnaped. He didn't know if she was dead or alive. But he had convinced himself that she was alive somewhere. Maybe her optimism had rubbed off, it wasn't like him to be hopeful, but it was what had kept him going so far. Daryl shrugged trying to find the right way to put it, without giving too much away.

“Just looking for the right place is all.”

“Oh, we ain’t good enough for you, huh?” Joe sarcastically remarked. Daryl scoffed thinking of his altercation this morning with Len, “Some of you ain’t exactly friendly.”

Joe smiled, “You ain’t so friendly yourself. You know you need a group out here.”

"Maybe I don’t.”

“No, you do.” Joe insisted. “You should be with us.”

A walker snarls ahead, the men in front take care of it and their pleasure of taking it down doesn't go unnoticed by Daryl. Joe continued, “People don’t got to be friendly. We don’t have to be nice. We don’t have to be brothers in arms. We just got to follow the rules. You claim. If you steal, you keel. I know that sounds a little funny, but nobody laughs when something goes missing. And you don’t lie. ‘Cause that’s a slippery slope indeed.”

"What happens if you break ‘em?” Daryl asked.

“Oh, you catch a beating’. The severity of which depends upon the offense and the general attitude of the day. But that doesn't happen much because when men like us follow rules and cooperate a little bit, well the world becomes ours.” Joe looks ahead to an auto parts garage aside the track and orders the grope, “Right there. It’s our abode for the evening.”

Everyone began to head towards the entrance but Daryl doesnt follow, he looked to Joe and said “Hey. There ain’t no us.” Joe turned and faced him, “You leaving right now?” Daryl doesn't answer. “No?” Joe questions him, “Then it sure seems like there’s an us.” Joe turns and heads towards the entrance, then turns again,

"Are you a cat person, Daryl?" His words made him freeze, and he looked up at Joe. "I am," Joe continued, "Loved 'em since I was three years old. Vicious creatures. Anyway, I'll tell you, and this is true. Ain't nothing sadder than an outdoor cat that thinks he's an indoor cat."

Daryl thought about that for a moment before he followed the others into the building.

Daryl knew what Joe was getting at. Daryl had always told himself he was better off alone, but deep down, he knew in his heart he wasn't. The more he twisted and turned the idea, if he decided to join these men maybe it was the right thing to do. And he was gonna find Julia, he was surely gonna spot a lead of her along the roads they seemed to stick by. Daryl was never gonna tell the others of his plan, he didn't trust them in that sense. The moment he finds a leed he's going to ditch them without hesitation.

The others had claimed the vehicles as their bed for the night and his reluctance to give in to this claim thing they had going. He still thought that keepers' find mentality was stupid and therefore left him no other choice than to simply lay down on the cold cement floor. But Daryl was too tired to care, he just wanted to be in his own thoughts for a while, chewing on one of his cinnamon sticks, calming the urge for another cigarette after he had smoked some with Joe earlier that day.

One of the men approached him. It was Len. Daryl could tell he was up to no good. Ever since he had run into these guys, Len had been set on making his life hell. Len began with an accusing tone, “You’ve got to be kidding me. Christ.”

Daryl glanced up at Len from where he laid on his back and sat up fully, his attention now on him.

“Give it here.” Len ordered, stepping into his personal space.

“You step back.” Daryl said warningly.

“My half was in the bag. Now it’s gone. Now ain’t nobody around here interested in no half damn cottontail except you.” Len points an accusing finger towards the now standing Daryl. “Ain’t that right?”

“You’re the only one still thinking about that crap.” Daryl groweld back.

Len stepped towards his stuff and demanded again, “Empty your bag.” Daryl takes his bag and steps back in the same motion, creating a distance between them, Daryl warns again more firmly this time, “I said step back.” Len gives him glare. Joe interferes like last time and snatches the bag to investigate Len’s accusation and questions, “Did you take his rabbit, Daryl? Just tell me the truth.”

Daryl could feel anxiety bloom in his chest, because he knew this could gow south, though he had done nothing of what he was accused of. Liyn was strictly forbidden, if Joe decided he was guilty or suspected him he would be punished by the group or as Joe had put it,’kach a beating. And that fact alone made him even more angry towards Len.

“I didn’t take nothing.” Daryl hissed in defense.

Joe emptied Daryl’s bag on the floor, revealing the other half of the rabbit was indeed there. Daryls head snapped to Len. He fucking new that muther fucker had planted it there when he whasen’t looking.

“You put that there, didn't you?” Daryl confronted Len angrily, stepping closer. “When I went out to take a piss! Didn’t you?!” Daryl pushed Len back enuff for him to stumble back a step. But Len keeps on his accusation pointing a finger into his chest, “You lied. You stole. We gonna teach this fool or what, Joe?” Len said through his teeth like venom.

Always the calm and composed leader he was in these situations, Joe calmed, “Whoa, whoa.” Stepping between them with his attention to Len who was the most railed up at the moment, “Now, Daryl says he didn’t take your half of the rabbit. So we got a little conundrum here. Either he’s lying, which is an actionable offense, or…” Joe smiled and laughed, “You didn’t plant it on him like some pussy, punk-ass, cheating, coward cop, did you? ‘Cause while that wouldn’t be specifically breaking the rules, it’d be disappointing.”

“It would.” Len nodded in agreement, “I didn't.” he insisted.

“Good.” Joe said with a nood. He looked at Daryl and breathed, “Well…” Joe throws a right hook in Len’s face making him descend to the ground.

“ …teach him a lesson, gent’s. He’s a lying sack of shit. I’m sick of it. Teach him all the way.” Joe commands and the men begin to kick and beat Len on the floor.

Lens grunts of agony filled the garage.

A part of him didn’t agree with Len getting punished or more how he was beaten by the others, the unfairness of it. But then he turned his back, the commotion behind him. Daryl was a man of survival and knew to play his cards right. Daryl blocked the relentless kicks and grunts from the commotion behind him, laying back just like he did before Len had interfered. Everything became background noise, blocking it all out like many times before. And when the men Dragged Len outside, closing the door behind them to continue whatever they were doing, everything was quiet again.

Daryl dreamt of Julia that night, a common theme since he'd lost her. He dreamt of holding her like he never dared to do, he wished he had. But he had always been too shy to act on his feelings. So he held her just a little tighter knowing when he woke, Julia would no longer be in his arms.

In the early morning the group heeded out. Daryl was shocked to discover they had beaten Len to death and left him in a ditch outside, impaled with his own arrow. For a moment he was taken aback. He had seen cruelty before the world became what it was but it never meant it didn't affect him. Len was an asshole but this didn't feel right.

Just as he was about to cover Len's body with a blanket, just like what he had done for Julia back at the golf club, he remembered what he had done, framing him. That this would have been him, lying in a ditch, with his bolt through his eye.

Whatever pity he had felt was gone and he went along with the others, hanging back with Joe who seemed to like talking to him and to be honest he didn't mind. It distracted him from the ace that only seemed to have grown each passing day.

Passing Joe’s white lightning between them as they conversed or mostly Joe conversating as Daryl preferred to listen, but Joe didn't seem to mind, he seemed like one who liked to talk. Daryl took a swing frome the homemade alcohol,

“I ain’t been lit at dawn since before everything fell apart.” Daryl confessed.

“Fell apart.” Joe ecod. “I never looked at it like that. Seems to me like things are finally starting to fall together. At least for guys like us. Living like this, surviving. We’ve been doing this from the start, right?”

And Daryl had. He had been living in this world before walkers roamed the earth. Fighting and surviving he had done as long as he could remember, it was the only thing he really knew. Back with his group they described it as the end of the world, as if the world had stopped and their lives had come to an end. But for him it had only just begun, he was free, more free then he had ever been before. Maybe he was made for how things are now, like Julia had said that night. He tried not to think about it too much, because if he was, Julia wasn't.

Upon a road, the forest now behind them, one of the men in front looked at the road sign, “Just a few more miles.” The man informed the group.

Daryl was the last to pass the sign. He looked to Joe beside him as he grew curious, “So is that where we’re headed?”

“So now you’re asking?” Joe questioned and Daryl confirmed. “That’s right.”

“We don’t like to stay in the same place, we like to be on the move. It keeps us from losing our edge. But that doesn't mean we don’t rest our legs once in a while. I think you will like it. Last time we found a neighborhood like this one we got lucky.”

Daryl thought that made sense. Before the prison they survived going from house to house, then went on the road when they had enuff to last them for a while before doing it all over again.

“Claimed.” Daryl said before the man in front could grab the wild strawberry plant. The man said nothing and continued along as Daryl picked up the plant by the road, then shoved the lone strawberry in his mouth, “What you mean by lucky?” Daryl asked Joe.

“That got your attention?” Joe said, amused.

"Yah."

Joe continued. “You should have been there. Got our hands on a little bunny, pure as snow I tell you. They are very hard to come by these days if you know what I mean? She gave a hell of a fight but you know how women are saying the opposite of what they want, and I know she wanted it, they all do. Shure wished she lasted longer, but you know how those little ones are?”

Daryl didn't say a word, he couldn't seem to find them. Because what was there to say when someone talked so freely of such horrific actions that made you physically ill?

An unsettling feeling settled in his gut. He knew then he needed to ditch these guys, sooner than he had planned but he had to play along for now.

It’s jarring, the ringing in her ears and the sharp pain coming from the back of her head. Her eyelids felt heavy as they slowly fluttered open to darkness. The ringing in her ears fade as the hum of an engine slowly wakes her oriented body. A seat belt was strapped over her chest, her body tilted towards the passenger's side window, eyes slowly found focus of the night through the window, watching trees speed by along the lone country road, clouds were wisebulle by the moon's soft light and she tried to remember why she would be in a car but it hurt. The last thing she remembered was the prison, but then a low voice, a voice of a man she hadn't taken notice of speaks, her whole body goes rigid to the stranger beside her.

“Worried you were never gonna wake up, you took quite a hit.”

The man was dressed in a clean police attire, fully equipped. It was out of place. Groomed and was clearly well taken care of with short kept hair, his receding hairline indicating he was in his late 30s. Julia looked at the man and spoke in a small timid voice.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta.”

“How did I end up here?"

The man looks at her, giving her a smile she finds difficult to read, but it makes her skin crawl and her heart pound. His focus returns back on the road ahead.

“Had a lead on some guns that were pretty far out. That’s when I spotted you, wiggling in the road.

And Julia says nothing, she just stares perplexed, trying to remember past the blanks she tries to fill, but it’s all so difficult.

“Can you remember your name?”

“Julia.”

The man echoes her name to himself, he looks at her, his gaze taking her in.

“A pretty name for a pretty girl.” He muses in an unsettling way making her avoid his lingering gaze.

But then…. She does remember something or more like someone.

Daryl

She remembers fighting a walker but then everything went black and now she's her. Clearly the hit to her head had been hard enough to affect her memory and she hoped it would all come back. Trying to process everything she looks down and blinks a couple of times before her gaze falls on the man once more and speaks more desperate this time, with the thought of Daryl in her mind.

“The man I was with, did you see him?”

The man glances at her, clenching the sterling weal enough for her to notice, but his expression does not change and he tells her without looking her way.

“You were alone.” Her stomach drops and her eyes grow wide. “If I didn’t save you when I did, you’d be dead right now.” Julia’s strong reaction goes unnoticed. “One was eyeing your thighs when I showed up. But I got there first.”

His hand travels along her thigh, feeling her over the fabric of her skirt, slowly revealing her skin underneath. She lets out a small noise of discomfort and freezes just like many times before, like when boys in school had touched her, or smacked her ass in the corridors. Freezing like a deer caught in headlights, she doesn't dare to move a muscle.

“Jacket that rotter up.” He said and Julia could hardly breath.

A sickening panic blooms in her chest that travels through her whole body. Recoiling from his touch in discomfort and disgust he only keeps on feeling her up with his fingers slowly traveling up her thigh. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to move away from the man's groping hands. And when he spoke once more she wanted to throw up, crawl out of her own skin, because his words were just as sickening as his hand on her skin, that was now dangerously close to the hem of her panties.

“It would be nice to have a pretty little thing like you. You're like a little girl. A pretty little girl. I bet your mother told you ‘don’t talk to strangers. But I’m no stranger. I’m Gorman. I wouldn't hurt you…mmmh…your skin is so nice and soft.”

Julia couldn't speak but she was screaming inside of herself for him to stop, to not be touched without consent like many before had dune. Julia's heart hammered in her ears, her breath rapid as she trembled in terror beneath his touch.

Often Julia struggled to tell the difference between good and bad people -but that look in his eyes and the unsettling way he touched her, ignites an instinct inside of herself, screaming she has to get out, she’s in danger, that this man wants to do something against her will. Her hand reached for her knife, but he of course had taken it. And she knew she could not kill him nor had the will to inflict pain to another person. She was nothing like Daryl, fearless and strong but that made her only think of him more and grew more desperate as she all but whispered.

“Please turn back, he must have made it.”

But Gorman turned angry and grounded out “As I said, you were alone! And I think you're safe here with me!”

Julia didn't know what to do, she felt so lost and scared without Daryl and she knew she had to do something. She begged again and again to stop the car, for him to turn back, to let her go. But he got so angry and aggressive towards her, making Julia turn to complete fight or flight when she for the first time acknowledged her arm was locked up in handcuffs in the car's door handle. Realizing this man had locked her up, to do what she did not dare to name, and that look in his eyes of evil and lust, Julia knew he was a sick, sick man who would and had done unspeakable things.

In an attempt to somehow stop the car she threw herself over the steering wheel, desperately fighting to take control. But he was so much stronger. The tiers made an awful squealing sound as Gorman fought against her. He looked away from the road to pull her free hand off the sterling weak but the next second everything stopped…

Daryl was hanging back as they reached their way to the rich neighborhood, big houses with overgrown yards that once had been neatly kept by the owners were now abandoned.

The plan was to slowly disappear as they began looting the area for supplies and he would be on his merry way to find Julia. But just as he was about to slip away something ahead caught his eye. And for a moment he thought he had miraculously. Somehow. Found her.

A black car with white a wight cross.

Daryl's stomach plummeted, his steps slowing down.

The others walked past the car and began to clear the first house on the block, not notesting their newfound companion lagging behind.

Slowly, Daryl approached the car, he had to know.

There were tire marks on the asphalt indicating something had gone wrong, something terribly wrong. The car had crashed into a tree, the front window was cracked and the hood was all buckled up by the impact. When he rounded the car to investigate the inside, he swore his heart stopped beating. His head was pounding and his body began to sweat. He felt so stiff, but at the same time like his legs were going to turn to jelly. He had felt this feeling before, back when he found Merle reanimated as a walker and when he thought Carol was dead.

The interior was smeared with gore and guts. Both front seats were bloodied, there were no bodies, just bits and pieces indicating there had been a walker feast, likely the same night he’d lost her.

Daryl picked up a knife that had fallen to the floorboard on the drivers side, not far from it lies the diary. With the last traces of Julia in his hand, Daryl knew enuff of what had happened.

A part of him accepted it, as all the evidence was there, but the other part of him was in denial.

Knees buckled beneath him, he couldn't feel the pain of the ground digging into his skin. He felt like throwing up, guilt pounding in his head, telling him over and over, another death was on his hands, his fault, only adding to that mental list of all the people he'd lost. It feelt so heavy he didn't know if he could stand up again. No tears were shed though his eyes were burning, it was like he couldn't cry.

Hollow and empty -he was nothing again. Because what was he when he couldn't protect the ones he was supposed to? He couldn't protect his blood, his family, his friends, his people…He couldn't even protect Julia.

All he wants is to see her again. Hear that sweet voice and tell her what his sorry ass really wanted to say. There were so many things he wished he had done differently now when he knew he had last her. He regretted the cruel way he had spoken when they got drunk, how he had been so ruff and cold towards her when all she had been was nothing but kind.

Julia was too good for this world and he was a maid for it.

Daryl could recall every moment they'd shared. He didn't realize he had become so attached to someone he had known for such a short period of time. But he had never met anyone like Julia before. Julia was the first girl who was genuinely nice to him, who so deeply cared for him. No questions asked and she was there. She never blamed him when he said cruel things, because she understood he never meant them. She was never uncomfortable to be close, embracing him, holding his hand, seeking comfort or to give him comfort, and it had all felt so good. It was like she could strip him bare with her eyes and truly see him for who he was, and that feeling, he had longed for his whole life.

Just when he began to believe in hope, even when he had lost her, he believed there was that little chance he could find her. Because that was what he did -he found people. But this was not what he had in mind.

Beneath all that hard exterior his heart aced teribully as Julia's soft voice rang in the back of his head.

"I’ll be gone someday…" "Stop…" "I will. You're gonna be the last man standing. You are. You're gonna miss me so bad when I’m gone Daryl dixon…"

If she only knew how much he missed her now.

"There are still good people Daryl…" "I don’t think the good ones survive…"

And Julia….was one of the good ones.

Daryl didn't know how to face what had just happened, finding the car the way he did. For selfish reasons he wanted to forget her -all of them. So he pretends he doesn't care, that he isn't broken once again.

Killing the cigarette against his skin, Daryl felt a sense of relief from the pain in his chest, but it lasted only for a moment. He had opted to venture to the other part of the neighborhood until he stumbled upon a few walkers in the mostly walker free eria, and it was strange as it was clear that there had been evidence there had been more just days ago. They were snarling, dragging their feet towards him from the garage door they had been banging on.

He could have easily just jogged off and they would have left him alone, but the anger inside of himself didn't let him. There was this satisfaction in his outlet when killing them, and it was a much needed relief, much like bak at the golf club.

The walker's body’s lies on the yard of the house, he scans the abandoned houses around him then looks to where the walkers had been trying to get in and heads towards the garage. Inside he realizes he's stumbled across a car, he removes the tarp of the truck and opens the hood finding the battery is missing, making him sigh in frustration slamming the hood shut. He shakes his head leaning against the hood, then notices a green refrigerator that seemed to be working. Stored batteries and containers labeled Sulf and Sid inside and Daryl knew he could get it back running again. Going back outside he finds one of the walkers carrying the key to the truck, the owner of the house was smart but not smart enough to get infected.

Going through the stuff inside he finds an All Purpose Charger and hooks it up to the truck battery. Estimating it would be fully charged in the early morning as the truck was in a fairly good condition like the battery itself. But the thing was he didn't know where he would go, did he even want to go now when he found a good truck that would take him wherever he pleased? Maby new Mexico? He had always dreamed of going there bak when he was a kid. But what was the point?

He couldn't find one.

The late afternoon sun glowed on him as he walked down yet another street until finding where the men had settled in one of the bigger houses. And why Daryl decided to join them inside, he didn't question, he just did, his body moving on its own.

The men gave him a look but didn't dare to say anything of his ruffed up appearances, it was obvious something had happened. They notest him, then went along with their business. They got the message to not ask, it was his business and it was clear this group did not not care for one another like his group had, the only thing they cared about was claiming and keeping to Joe's ‘self proclaimed rolls’.

Joe was held up defusing a quarrel in the living room and Daryl opted to one of the bedrooms upstairs, shutting the world out but his mind would not let him rest.

Daryl had lost many along the way; it was nothing new, it was inevitable. But this time was different. It hurt more, the pain was straight up unbearable. It didn't make sense why this time would be different, but it was, and there was no denying that.

Sinking into the comfort of the bed he reached for his back pocket and began to look through the diary, flipping through pages. There was an artistic streak the way she had written small poems and drawn sketches of animals, flowers and people from the prison he supposed. The writing was crooked, a little hard to read with the misspelling, but he didn't mind.

Soon the exhaustion of los had caught up to him, he fell asleep with the book over his heart with the map Marlene had given to him all the way back when she had begged him to take her, and he had promised to keep her safe. He had failed her too.

Daryl didn't know how much time had passed, the setting sun outside told him he had slept at least an hour. Comotion down stairs had escalated, something about one of the men lying and getting punished for it.

Joe telling him “his rules” was effective, putting them in line or whatever he had said seemed like bullshit. Sitting up with his legs off the bed, arms resting on his knees he could hear arguing and pleading from the man that was accused of lying.

“No, no, no please. Please, don’t. Please!"

A loud thud followed by a pained scream of the man down stairs filled the house as the others laughed in amusement. Daryl could have interfered if he wanted to, but he couldn't find it in himself to care, it wasn't his place to interfere nor his business.

“Oh, God!” The man groans in agony.

“You plan of finishing the job?” One of the men said. “Yeah. I’m getting an earache and I know he’s just gonna let his ass squeal.” Answered the other.

“After what he did, the man deserves to bleed.” The third man said.

“Y’all stay down there if you want.” The fourth man said and began to walk up the stairs to claim one of the two bedrooms left before the others could, still handling the man down stairs. The man searched the rooms until he settled for the one next door to him. The door must have been locked but eventually he heard it open and close.

Daryl opted to busy himself looking through the room knowing he wasn't gonna find sleep again. Engrossed in the impressive Metallica collection Daryl didn't pay much attention to the mens chatting frome down stairs, not hearing one of the men halloring.

“There’s a woman shaking up in here.”

Immediately it got the rest of the men's attention. Finding a newly washed shirt disappointed some, but Joe ordered them to be ready for anything in case the owner of the shirt would return and possibly cold return with others that could be a threat. The four men dispersed, Joe watched the front porch as the others gathered their guns to watch the sides from the inside of the house.

A thud from the other room caught Daryl's attention for just a second, but didn't think anything of it as no other sounds were made; he turned his attention back to some motorbike magazines. Flipping the third page there was another thud, it was distinct, more like a struggle. Strange. Then there was another voice, a faint, muffled, ‘No -coming from a woman.

There was clear sense something was not right, his gut told him so and it had never proved him wrong before. The instinctive feeling of something wrong was enough for Daryl to step out from his room to approach the door where the noise came from. Then he listened in just like he did when hunting, tilting his head he heard trashing coming from the bed inside, making him draw his knife by muscle memory, his hand was around the door knob, turning it, pushing the door open. And there was nothing that could have prepared Daryl for what was unfolding behind that door.

His world stopped.

In a span of mere seconds, Daryl went through three intense stages of emotions. From shock taking in what unfolded before him, Julia very much alive lies on the bed, with a man on top of her holding her down with one hand strangling her and the other hand groping her between her legs, as she does everything in her power to escape. Then came the realization. There was the smallest choking sound as her face was filled with such terror and fresh tears streaming down her face, making his eyes sting. Lastly, came the rage. His hand tightened around the hilt. Rage scratched at the back of his skull right at the base. Right where emotions turned to turmoil, he could feel himself giving in to that anger, that darkness. The man had almost exposed her under the skirt, her panties on soon to be ripped off. While one hand was pressing around her throat his other hand moved aggressively between her legs. The man had the most vile expression Daryl had ever witnessed, making his blood boil, vision turning red and he demands, his voice low and deadly.

“Get your fuckin hands off her.”

Julia tried to escape the man's hold, trashing beneath him with her feet, kicking and scratching fingernails in an attempt to free her throat. The lack of oxygen made her vision turn blurry, darkening round the edges, she could feel how her limbs weakened and her strength slowly leaving her.

Julia had hoped it was all just a bad dream. But there was so much pain, it hurt too much to just be a nightmare and she knew the horrifying truth…This was real. The idea to simply let it happen, to get it over with seemed like a better option at some point.

It would happen but it would be over, she told herself.

Just as Julia was about to give in to her fate, the pressure was gone and she could breathe. In and out. Fresh air filled her lungs as she gasped and coughed, fingers gently touching the sore skin on her neck. Julia struggled as she moved carefully to the center of the bed, vision returned though it was still a bit blurry she could make out the commotion on the floor in front of her. She saw the back of another man on top of the man that had attacked her just seconds ago. There was grunting, heavy breaths drawn along with the unmistakable sound of knuckles thudding against soft damaged flesh.

Julia stared wide eyed, her breaths heavy, she was no longer coughing but a hand remained on her throat. The man below the stranger didn't fight back nor move, the man had been beaten to death, a pole of blood expanding on the floor of crimson red. The stranger stood to his full height turning to her, but Julia didn't look at him, her eyes were fixed on the monster that had tried to force himself on her in the vulnerable state of sleep. As if she waited for his limp body to come back from the dead and do it all over again.

But that moment never came.

Daryl had been lost in his anger but the moment he remembered Julia was there, very much alive, he stopped. Daryl stands there watching her, she is disheveled, her beautiful curly hair is a mess, her cheeks raw and soaked in tears, and her eyes have blown wide. She was still in her skirt and camisole. She didn't notice he was standing there, and all he wanted was for her to look at him, to know he was here, that the man would no longer harm her.

“Julia.” No response, he tries again, “Julia, look at me.”

And slowly he can see her reacting to his voice, finally acknowledging his presence. Her eyes landed on his bloodied hand then the knife in his other. Their eyes met and all he saw was fear, fear of him. Panic bloomed in his chest, realizing Julia didn't recognise him, as if he was the same man as the one bleeding out on the floor. The thought of her being afraid of him was devastating, unbearable even.

Daryl didn't know the way his hair covered his eyes, the way the knife looked in his hand as the other was drenched in blood, all Julia could see was a monster. .

In Daryl's eyes Julia looked like a wounded fawn, and maybe that was what she was in that moment? And just in that way he said carefully.

“It’s me. It's just me.”

Desperately he tried again when she didn't respond, putting his knife away, his palms facing her, being as non threatening as he possibly could.

“You know me. Daryl. Remember?"

And Daryl could see the shift happening behind her fearful eyes to recognition. He didn't move, just simply stayed where he was, afraid he would only frighten her in her timid state.

Stiffly Julia crawled out of the bed, slowly but carefully standing to her feet. She felt so shaken from the way she had woken, in the most terrifying way possible. It was difficult to stand, even to draw in air. But hearing the voice she never thought she would hear again, and she had to know the man before her was him, she wiped the tears away, moving towards him.

Daryld watched her slowly approach him, and he had to strain himself not to grab her, pulling her into his arms, knowing he had to let her come to him.

Julia grabbed the fabrike of his shirt looking up where his eyes would be, covered by dark strands of hair that had fallen to a mess. When Daryl looked down, his dark pools of blue met hers and Julia knew then it was him, it was real.

Julia reached for him, both hands now grabbing at his shirt, face buried into his warm chest, his beating heart thumping under his skin.

Julia inhaled shakelly…And said.

“Daryl.”

It was fragile the way she said it and immediately relief washed over him. Finally Daryl dared to touch her, holding her close with both of his big arms swallowing her smaller form. She smelled of her natural scent, with a hint of shampoo and all the sweet things that reminded him of her. All of her was soft, welcoming and full of life, just how he remembered her, and he said softly in return.

“That’s right.” he breathed out, cradling the back of her head with a hand, “It’s me. It's just me.”

But their reunion was cut short by the men down stairs growing impatient with his absence, and the man he’s just beaten to death. The evidence on the floor and the blood on his knuckles.

Daryl knew the moment they realized what he had done, they would surely kill him, ‘teach him all the way’, like they did Len. The chilling feeling of knowing, knowing and knowing what these men had done, what they could do, knowing Julia would suffer a horrific fate she almost did just moments ago settled a sense of horror in him.

But nothing was going to happen to her, he was going to make sure of it.

Julia dried her tears once more as Daryl grabbed her pack and gray cardigan that had been thrown to the floor, then approached her feeling a sense of urgency and panic even though he stayed calm for the sake of her.

“This all your stuff?”

Julia could only nod as she put on the cardigan and Daryl noticed it was more in a need to cover herself up after being exposed in such a way she had been.

The relief she had felt dissipated the moment she recognised voices of men, coming from down stairs growing lowder and impatient.

“I thought Dan and Daryl got that.” one man said, then the other, “What the hell are they doing up there?”

Daryl listens closely to every word shared below, with his eyes never leaving her, as if she would be goon if he did.

“Get them the hell up.” Joe ordered urgently.

Julia froze in fear as Daryl turned serious in contrast to her, hugging her pack in a death grip to keep her shaking hands at bay. Julia could feel herself becoming smaller, as if she couldn't follow along with what was happening.

The gears were turning behind his eyes, then Daryl nodded to himself, a decision had been made. And he said while keeping his voice down, yet firm.

“Hey, you see that clawset?”

Julia acknowledged it across the room, but no verbal response was made. It was difficult to register when dissociation began to wash over, preventing words from forming. But she forced it down when she could feel his hands grabbing her shoulders, groundingly, pulling her both figuratively and physically back to reality.

“You’re gonna stay in there, and you don’t come out until I say, okay?”

And Julia could not say anything in return, as if she was mute. But when she heard footsteps heading upstairs she could feel that twisting feeling in her gut she had felt in the car, finding herself spacing out once more, no longer looking up at him.

“Dan, Daryl, get your asses down here!” The man heading upstairs said, but of course got no answer in return. “Yo, you hear me?!”

“They’re not gonna come anywhere near you.” Daryl firmly told her, shaking her by her shoulders, “Look at me.” It was an order, an order that demanded attention. “They're ain’t gonna come anywhere near you. All you gotta do is stay put, stay quiet and don't come out until I say. Can you do that for me?

Julia stairs and stairs, pleading with her eyes for something -she didn’t know. It was about seconds before the man would enter and time was running out, she knew. But Julia didn't want to be without him, to be separated. But at the same time she knew it was something she had to do.

Even though she was scared, scared out of her mind she reletend. To do what he had asked of her. Julia trusted him with her life. Before she moved, to hide, Daryl’s hand cradled her face affectionately, as if he needed to touch her, to remind himself she was indeed there, what was at stake. His thumb moved, caressing her cheek gently as he provided, softly.

“Good girl."

If the situation had been different, Julia was sure she would have smiled in return.

Never had Julia seen the look Daryl had in his eyes as he had now. It was worrying, it went beyond protecting her, and it looked like he was -well like he was about to do something very terrible, and she knew there was nothing that could be done to stop it.

His touch didn't last long as he urged her to hide. When she was consumed by darkness in the safe space of the closet, Julia wished she had said something more than simply his name.

There was now way of telling how much time had passed.

The screams and the fight from down stairs had stopped and Julia wasn't sure she wanted to know what Daryl was doing, what he had done. Knowing Daryl could beat a man to death with his bare hands, Julia knew that was probably what had happened and it made her feel -well, she didn't really know.

The house was completely silent, it was unsettling in a way, not knowing if Daryl was alright, or hurt. Even though she had been told to stay put, she couldn't. The silence was too unnerving, making her leave the safe space of the closet, stepping out into the bedroom, cracking the door open, Daryl had closed when leaving.

“Daryl.” Julia called out, “Daryl, are you alright?”

Then there was movement down stairs, sounding as if something heavy was being dragged across the floor.

"Stay! Don’t come down here!”

His order made her flinch, he wasn't angry but it was clear he didn't want her coming down. Julia assumed it had something to do with the unmistakable dragging on the floor. Doing as she was told once more she stayed put, and she couldn't help but stare at the dead man on the floor. She was still coming down from what had happened, welding herself to get it together. Crying was not gonna make it better and she was no child, she was a grown woman, it was time she acted as such.

Drying the evidence of her face as she sits on the floor, Daryl emerges, wearing a different jacket and a red machete attached to his belt. And Julia couldn't help but stare as Dary was - well. Covered in blood.

Pt.5 Masterlist

[tightjeansjavi]

Burning in a Hopeless Dream

Boston QZ: Part 15

“They See Right Through Me”

Joel Miller x f!o/c

A/N: thank you for your patience as I took the time to write this for y’all. This was not only the longest chapter I have written, this was also the hardest, and emotionally challenging one thus far. I am extremely proud of how this has turned out. Thank you for reading ♡

Summary: Save who you can save Joel.

~word count: 11.7k~

Warnings: age gap (o/c is in her early 30’s Joel is in his 50’s) established relationship, angst, dark! Joel, mean! Joel. You’re gonna hate him by the end of this chapter! Joel, canon typical violence, death of a major character, trauma, arguments, gaslighting, PTSD, anger, rage, heart break, triggering themes that may be disturbing for some viewers. Please proceed with caution and read the warnings. (+18) minors dni !

Songs for this chapter:

“The Archer” By Taylor Swift

“You Are My Sunshine” by The Civil Wars

“Godspeed” By Frank Ocean

“Same Old Same Old” by The Civil Wars

“take a moment to breathe” by normal the kid

“My Cell” The Lumineers

“Paper Houses” by Niall Horan

“Wait” by M83

“Save Yourself” by KALEO

“It’ll All Work Out” by Phoebe Bridgers

Summer, 2023 : 5 Miles outside the QZ

“From this point forward, the three of us have to actively remember that Ellie is just a kid.” You spoke, sitting along an old crate in the abandoned building you, Joel, and Tess had found to take cover from the storm. Ellie was asleep, in the middle of the room. She used her backpack as a pillow, under a bed of moss.

Joel scoffed alongside you. His hand was still bloodied and bruised up. The thin skin of his knuckles were torn, shredded, and you were doing your best to clean out any debris embedded in the flesh. “She ain’t just a kid. She’s fuckin’ cargo to us.” He gritted out. He could feel the muscles, and tendons in his hand twitching. He had definitely broken it from the amount of times his fist made contact with the FEDRA soldiers face.

“Does she fucking look like cargo to you Joel? That’s a kid who’s life just got drastically turned upside down in a matter of hours. All she’s clearly known is Marlene, and the fireflies, and now 3 strangers.” You shook your head, refusing to make eye contact with him as you swiped a bit of 20 year old disinfectant along his knuckles, eliciting a hiss from between his lips.

“She is cargo. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you don’t let your emotions get in the fucking way. You forgetting what we’re doin’ this for? We’re doin’ this for Tommy, Gwen. We get the battery, the truck, everything Marlene promised us, and we go and find my brother. That’s the plan and it ain’t changin’ darlin’.”

“You know, if I had just met you two, I’d think you were an old married couple by the way you fuckin’ bicker together.” Tess whispered, amusement in her tone.

Joel rolled his eyes immediately in response. “Yeah?” He scoffed. “Well, we sure as hell ain’t an old married couple.”

“No, but you’re actin’ like one. At this rate, I’d put a ring on her finger sooner, rather than later Texas.”

“You see an every kiss begins with Kay or jade jewelers, or whatever the fuck around here? Cause I sure as hell ain’t seein’ any. Not to mention, that ain’t our style. Marriage? That’s hilarious Tess. Really fuckin’ funny.”

It wasn’t that Joel thought there was anything bad about marriage. It was more-so the fact the that he hadn’t had thoughts about marriage in over 20 fucking years. Besides, putting a ring on your finger seemed way too cliche. Totally not yours, or his style.

“I think I’d actually commit murder if he even attempted to put a ring on my finger.” You chimed in, your eyes were still focused on tending to Joel’s hand.

“That’s exactly 100% why you’re Joel’s girl.”

“Damn right she is.” He agreed.

“You’re both seriously beyond insufferable right now. Just wanted to let you know.” You mumbled under your breath with a small grin tugging on your lips.

A bright flash of lighting, followed by a loud crack of thunder, ended the lighthearted banter.

“Have you thought of the possibility that maybe Marlene is lying about the truck, and weapons that she promised us? Look, I have my reasons to not trust Marlene, but I really think we need to think about this from a logical standpoint. If the case ends up being there’s no truck, or weapons, we can’t just leave Ellie to fend for herself.”

Joel was ripping his hand from your grasp when you had attempted to bandage his knuckles up. He had given you a stone cold look, one that sent an unpleasant chill down your spine.

“Marlene seemed too fuckin’ desperate to make up a lie like that darlin’. Besides, Tess and I have known Marlene far longer than you have. If she says there’s a truck and weapons waiting at the state house, she ain’t lyin’ about that. The only reason you have to not trust her is because she’s a fuckin’ firefly.”

You narrowed your eyes at him as you tucked your first aid kit back into your backpack and stood up. “Yeah? Well if you remember correctly, she’s the reason why I got fucking thrown into lockup. Her and the rest of the fireflies are the reason behind that. You just want me to go along and trust her? She’s never even fucking liked me Joel.” His gaze fell upon your face as you shrugged off your jacket and gently placed it over Ellie’s curled up sleeping form just a few feet away.

“You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time Gwen. Shit fuckin’ happens. You don’t wanna trust Marlene? Go on right ahead and see where that gets you. You’ll be eating your words the second we drop this kid off and get our reward.”

You scoffed under your breath as you sank down against the wall, far away from him now with your arms crossed over your chest. “Yeah, okay Joel. Can you stop being a fucking asshole?”

“Stop saying stupid fuckin’ shit and then I won’t have a reason to be an asshole darlin’”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek, tasting copper along your tongue. You missed the moments where Joel was attentive to you, and your feelings. Where he was tender, gentle, soft with your heart. You missed that side of him desperately.

Ellie, unbeknownst to the three of you, was wide awake and listening to the entire conversation as it ensued. The second you placed your jacket over her, she felt an immediate trust for you. Especially for the fact that you emphasized that she was just a kid. She was wary of the other two you traveled with. Especially Joel. He seemed like one mean motherfucker.

Joel had taken the first watch of the night while you and Tess slept. Except, you couldn’t sleep at all. Despite how mean your partner was to you earlier, you couldn’t give him the cold shoulder forever.

He had turned his head towards you in the slightest when he could hear your boots scraping against the pavement as you stood up. He let out a soft sigh when you sank down beside him, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“Why aren’t you sleepin’ honey?” His tone was much softer now, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up.

“I don’t sleep most nights anymore Joel.”

He frowned at this and finally looked over at you, turning his body so he was facing you. His good hand was still firmly grasped around the machine gun strapped across his shoulder.

“You wanna talk about it? I’m all ears for you darlin’” he rasped.

“There’s nothing to talk about Joel. This has been going on for months. I’ve come to accept that a decent night's rest is not something attainable for me anymore. I’m on edge constantly, and for good reason.” You had your chin tucked into your shoulder as you looked over at him. The rain wasn’t as heavy anymore but there were still low rumbles of thunder in the distance.

Joel took a deep inhale through his nose, his nostrils flaring slightly as he breathed out, feeling the tension in his shoulders dissipate.

“C’mere. You ain’t have a reason to be on edge when I’m right here. Okay? Look, I know these last few months have not been ideal. Shits been handed to us left and right. I don’t want you thinkin’ that I don’t care either, alright? You know I do.” He slipped the rifle off of his shoulder before he was reaching for you, gently wrapping his good hand around your forearm, coaxing you closer.

“I know you care, Joel. I know that you’re just stressed over Tommy, and now this whole situation. I just…I got so fucking comfortable when we were just..happy. You remember that?” You didn’t fight him as he gently pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly to his chest, resting his chin along the top of your head. His arms were secured around your middle, your back pressed firmly to his chest.

“We both knew that wasn’t going to last forever baby. Those were the best moments. I ain’t forgotten them. M’sorry for the way I’ve snapped at you. I don’t know how to deal with how I’ve been feelin’ about Tommy. I know that’s not an excuse to treat ya that way. I don’t wanna lose you too..”

“We could have stayed with Bill and Frank y’know. There were so many houses and we could have had a comfortable life there. I know it sounds silly, how can anyone live comfortably in an apocalypse? Somehow Bill and Frank have. They’ve pretty much gone and done the impossible. Listen, I know you don’t mean what you’ve said. Does it hurt me? Absolutely. You’d have to do something unforgivable to lose me Joel. So please don’t go speaking like that.” You placed your hands over his, as you gently brought his damaged hand up to your lips, lightly pressing a kiss to the broken skin on his knuckles.

“Maybe we can have that one day, sweet girl. Just the two of us, okay? We’ll find a home somewhere to call ours. Maybe a couple horses, a nice big yard? A library for all your books..a decent mattress, with pillows that aren’t moth eaten. A nice big kitchen where we can cook together. We’ll have Bill, Frank, Tess, and Bea over every weekend for dinner. I’ll make sweet love to you every fuckin’ night. Doesn’t that sound wonderful baby? We’ll have that one day, I promise you. It’s just not in the cards for us right now, but that’s okay. You wanna know why? Cause no matter what, I got you, and you got me. Kay? No matter what happens.” He whispered against your hair, his eyes closed as he pictured a domestic lifestyle with you by his side. He wanted that so fucking badly with you. He could nearly taste it.

You were left feeling stunned in his arms. Joel’s confession was well thought out, tender, filled to the brim with all the little details. You could tell by his deliverance that this was not something he came up with on a whim. No, your Joel had thought about the possibility of having a normal life with you for a long long time. “No matter what happens, I got you, you got me. Always.” You whispered.

Joel tightened his grip around you slightly. He didn’t care about the throbbing pain from his freshly broken hand, or the impending reality that your lives had drastically changed in a matter of hours. He just wanted to make sure you got a decent night of sleep finally.

So, he sang. Just above a whisper, the same lullaby you had sung to him the night that his nightmares nearly consumed him.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away. Please don’t take my sunshine away…”

You were fast asleep by the time he whispered out the last word. He held you all night long, listening intently for any sounds that could be of a threat. Even when it was Tess’s turn to take watch, he didn’t wake her either. His gun was nearby, ready to grab if needed. His eyes stayed trained on the sleeping teenager just a few feet away. Ellie, who he viewed as just being cargo to transport.

By morning's impending approach, the storm had since passed on. The sky was painted in an array of pink, red, and orange hues. Although a sight to behold, a red sky at dawn was never a good sign. The old saying goes, red sky at night, sailors delight. Red sky at morning, sailors warning.

The four of you had no inclination to predict that this was Tess’s last day walking in the living realm. Predicting the weather was something just about anyone could do. Predicting the moment someone would take their last dying breath? That was a feat impossible.

Ellie had slowly awoken to the sun's warm rays peeking through the cracks in the abandoned building. A golden butterfly fluttered above her sleeping form as her eyes slowly opened. She was still in a sleepy state as she slowly sat up, taking in her surroundings before she heard a loud creaking sound behind her.

She was greeted by a stern look from both Joel, and Tess. He was holding his assault rifle between his hands. The barrel of the gun pointed at the ground. The look he was giving the teenager was menacing enough as it was. The only kind face Ellie could find in the small space was yours.

“Morning…” she spoke, hesitation laced in her tone.

Just as she began to slowly rise from the mossy floor, Joel had lifted the gun in her direction, causing the teenager's eyes to go wide and you kicked his chair with your boot from where you stood behind him. “Joel..” you warned. He could feel your eyes glaring into the back of his skull, disapprovingly.

“If you say that she’s just a kid one more fuckin’ time.” He snapped back, keeping his gun trained on Ellie.

“Do I look like I’m infected? Seriously, can you not point that thing at me man? What, are you actually gonna shoot me?”

“Just might. Now, show us your arm. Slow. If you make any—”

“Sudden movements you’ll shoot. Yeah, I think I fucking got that part.” Ellie quipped back. She slowly lifted the sleeve of her hoodie revealing her 3 week old bite mark in the sunlight. From where the 3 of you were, it was pretty obvious this was not a fresh bite in the slightest.

“Yeah, it’s not getting any worse, is it? I’m not infected. This thing is 3 weeks old and I haven’t turned into one of those..things.”

Joel slowly lowered his gun before he slowly looked over at Tess before he let his gaze slightly drift up to you. “What the hell was Marlene doin’ with an infected kid in the first place?”

“I’m not infected. She found me after I was bitten and before you ask, no. She didn’t shoot me. She locked me up in that shit hole and had her guys test me every fucking day. They chained me to a pipe and made me recite my name and other shit back to them to see if my personality had changed. It clearly didn’t.”

“Did your shit attitude come before, or after you were bitten?” Joel asked.

You kicked the foot of his chair again, this time a little harder.

You could tell the teenager fought hard to not roll her eyes at him. “Y’know the thing I think really impressed them was the fact that I didn’t turn into a fucking monster.”

When the three of you didn’t respond, Ellie slowly rose to her feet and Joel’s gun followed. “Really man? I thought we were done with that shit. Can I just go pee now? I’ve been holding it for a while.”

Tess had grabbed an old magazine on the floor and tossed it over to the teenager. “Go ahead. You can find a nice spot back there.”

Ellie caught the magazine before she started to walk towards the back room to do her business. “There’s not gonna be anything bad in here?”

“Just you.”

Once Ellie was out of sight, you nearly wanted to rip Joel’s gun from his hands but refrained as you crossed your arms over your chest with a sigh. “She made it through the fuckin’ night, Joel. I think you can cut it out with pointing the gun at her. She’s clearly not a threat to any of us.”

“It doesn’t fuckin’ matter. It’s gonna happen sooner or later. Maybe her body just has a late response to the cordyceps. She can’t be trusted. I told you this was a bad fuckin’ idea to begin with and now that we know she’s infected, you still think we’re gonna follow through with this?”

“You saw her arm, Joel. If she was infected it would have looked completely different. We’ve seen what infected bite marks look like and she is not one of them.”

“Yeah well I ain’t about to go and take that chance. We’re close enough to the wall. We can sneak her back into the QZ and we’ll just find a different way to get the battery. I ain’t hauling an infected kid around with us.”

“We take her back to the QZ and they’re gonna kill her. FEDRA see’s that bite mark and she’s through. You really wanna have a kid's blood on your hands like that?”

“Do you hear yourself right now Gwen? You’re actin’ like this kid has some fuckin’ life ahead of her or somethin’. We take her back to the QZ and get the battery a different way.”

“What happened to fiercely believing in the fact that Marlene is gonna have a whole truck and weapons waiting for us if we bring her to the state house? You’re just gonna go and abandon that?”

“You should be jumping for joy over the fact that we’re finally fuckin’ agreeing on somethin’ for once. An infected kid is not worth the possibility of that truck, or the weapons we were promised.”

“I’m with Gwen on this one.” Tess finally spoke as Joel whipped his around suddenly to look at her, narrowing his eyes.

“You’re what?”

“You heard me Texas. I don’t think I need to repeat it.” She spoke without looking at him just as Ellie had returned. “You hungry kid? You can share some of ours.”

“Thanks. Marlene sent me with my own.” Ellie spoke as she sank down into the moss, pulling out what appeared to be a chicken sandwich from her backpack.

“Is that chicken?” You asked, feeling your mouth water at the sight of something besides the dried, tasteless jerky the three of you were eating.

“Yep. Marlene said they get it from smugglers..guess not you guys.” She smirked a little as she took a bite of her sandwich.

Tess was already up and out of her chair and Joel had tried to stop her but she pushed him away. “Why are you so important to Marlene? Hm? Don’t even think about lyin’ to me kid. If you do, we’ll take you back to the QZ.”

“Well..you take me back and you don’t get your battery.” Ellie responded.

“Ohh. So you got a good set of ears on you huh? Well, then I’m sure you heard that he wants to shoot you then right?”

Ellie no longer possessed a smirk on her face as she slowly looked up at Joel’s displeased face. “So then why hasn’t he shot me already? If what you’re saying is true.”

“Trying to change the subject isn’t gonna do you any good either. So I’m gonna talk to you like an adult, alright? Joel and I aren’t good people. We’re doin’ this for us because apparently you’re worth somethin’ to Marlene, whatever that may be. So if I were you, I’d drop the smart ass attitude because his patience? It’s wearing mighty thin. I suggest you answer my question. Why are you so important to Marlene?”

“What about her? Is she not a good person either?” Ellie spoke, gesturing her head towards you.

“Gwen? Let’s just say..she’s better than the two of us but not by much. Sweet face, sure. Knows how to wield a knife like it’s the fuckin’ back of her hand.”

“That’s badass.”

“Answer her question, Ellie. It’s alright.” You spoke softly, earning a disapproving look from your lover.

“Okay..well, Marlene told me not to tell anyone and here I am telling the three of you..” she sighed, rubbing her hand over her face. “There’s a Firefly base camp somewhere out west with doctors. They’re working on a cure.”

“Oh of course they are. Yeah, sure I’ll believe it. This ain’t the fuckin’ first time we’ve heard about a possible cure. It’s all horse shit.” Joel muttered under his breath.

“So whatever happened to me is—”

“The key to finding the vaccine. That’s what they all fuckin’ say and guess what? They’ve tried to find a cure numerous times and ain’t nothin’ worked. It’s the same goddamn thing every single—”

Ellie rose to her feet in a fury, staring at Joel head on. “Fuck you, man. I didn’t ask for this.”

“You and me fuckin’ both. We’re wastin’ daylight the more time we spend talkin’ on this nonsense. I’m done. Pack your shit up and let’s go. We’re takin’ you back to the QZ.”

Tess let out a sigh, running her fingers through her hair. “Let’s just finish this Joel. We get what we want regardless. We take her back, and we risk all 4 of us getting shot. I don’t know about you, but I still have some life worth livin.’”

Joel clenched his jaw tightly, breathing in deeply through his nose. This was not a good idea. However, we was now outnumbered by two. “If she so much as fuckin’ twitches—”

He was cut off by the obnoxious sounds of Ellie portraying a clicker. Making the snarling clicking sounds as she contorted her limbs at an uncomfortable angle.

“Ellie don’t.” You warned her.

She rubbed the back of her neck, clearing her throat as she nodded, “okay..”

The 4 of you gathered up your things to head out and just as Joel was lifting his rifle from the ground, slinging the strap over his shoulder, Ellie asked if she too could have a gun.

“Can I have a gun?”

“Absolutely fuckin’ not. Not a chance in hell.” Was Joel’s immediate response.

“Okay, Jesus fuck. Fine. I’ll just throw a fuckin’ sandwich at them or something.” She muttered under her breath as she threw her backpack strap over her shoulder.

As the 4 of you stepped out into the warm sunlight, you watched as Ellie looked around the ruined city in amazement. Buildings half fallen over, taken hostage by thick vines and moss. There were giant craters, the size of small moons, where the government had sent bombs to slow down the rate of the infected.

Joel had come to a halt in front of the impassable wreckage blocking a quick path to the State House. “Long way or short way?”

“It’s the long way or the ‘we’re fuckin’ dead way.’” Tess added.

“Long way it is then. We’ll have to go check from the hotel first. See if the coast is clear. C’mon.” You were leading the way now, while Ellie walked alongside you, Tess in the middle, and Joel in the back.

You and Ellie engaged in small talk. You genuinely wanted the kid to feel somewhat comfortable with this entire situation and Ellie seemingly appreciated your efforts. She told you how she had gotten bit and you had to admit, this kid was pretty ballsy for her age. “Well, I mean, you got some balls on you, sister, that’s for fucking sure.”

“Thanks.” She had a grin creeping up on her face.

“Soo..no one is gonna come looking for you right? Mom, dad?..boyfriend?..”

“Uhhh well, I’m an orphan and nope.”

You could feel Joel’s eyes on the back of your skull as he walked behind you, shaking his head at your efforts to befriend this cargo.

“See, everyone told me the big open city was gonna be crazy! Infected runnin’ around everywhere. Are we even gonna see any? Cause I’ve heard there’s like super-infected that explode fungus spores on you! Is that not true?”

“Shit, I hope not. Those sound fuckin’ terrifying.” You said with a small grin.

“Okay, what about the ones that have their heads split open and can see in the dark like bats?”

“You mean clickers? Yeah, there’s lots of those. They’re the most common type that we’ve come across. Not the hardest to kill, but they use echolocation—” you were cut off by the sound of a loud, distant animalistic yell coming from deep within the fallen city.

On instinct, Joel was close to your side, looking around as you waited for another yell to follow. The only sound you could hear was a crow perched on a tree nearby.

“Let’s keep movin’” Joel spoke as he gave you a gentle nudge forward.

As you approached the hotel, Ellie had her own set of questions for you as she kicked at the stray rubble beneath her red, worn sneakers.

“So is he like..your boyfriend or somethin’?”

“My boyfriend? Well, no. Not exactly. I wouldn’t call him that if I’m being honest.”

“But you’re like together, right? I think that part is pretty obvious.”

“Yeah, we are. Just don’t think he’d particularly enjoy me calling him my boyfriend. It’s not really his taste.”

“Well, no offense to you, he doesn’t seem like the boyfriend type anyway.”

This elicited a light laugh to slip past your lips as you covered it by coughing into the sleeve of your jacket. “Oh, you’re right on the money with that one, kid. He is far from the boyfriend type.”

“But he’s like your partner then?..Your person?”

“Yeah, something along those lines. I wouldn’t go as far to put us into a box, y’know?”

“I understand..what about Tess? Does she have anyone?”

“Back in the QZ she does. She has a girlfriend named Beatrix.”

“Wicked.”

“You two done chit chattin’ up there?” Joel spoke, distaste evident in his tone.

“Yeah, we’re just makin’ the time pass is all.”

“Oh yeah? Well ain’t that fuckin’ nice for you two.” He scoffed as he walked ahead of you, stopping at the foot of the stairs looking into the overflowing of water into the once hotel lobby.

“Is he always this grumpy?” Ellie leaned over and whispered to you.

“Oh, this isn’t even the worst that you’ve seen of it, kid. Trust me.”

The 4 of you started to trudge through the green, murky water to get to the other side of the lobby. Ellie being the kid that she was, wandered off to the side when she saw what used to be the front desk and pressed on the bell a few times as she leaned over the counter. “Ding! Ding! Yes, sir. I would like your finest suite, please.” “Yes, ma’am. Would you like me to take your luggage?”

“You’re a weird kid.” Joel watched her with a quizzical expression etched on his weathered features.

“You’re a weird kid.” Ellie sarcastically responded back, nearly sticking her tongue out at him as she pushed the luggage trolley forward.

A very deceased human Skeleton slipped out from behind the trolley and scared the living daylights out of the teen. Much to yours, and Ellie’s surprise, Joel was at her side immediately, gun raised in the direction of the apparent threat.

She’s just cargo, my ass. Was the first thought that came to your mind.

Joel had offered Ellie his hand as he helped her up but as soon as their hands touched, he was ripping his away from her grasp, staring down at it momentarily with a hard expression on his face. Perhaps it was from the fact that his hand was still freshly broken. Or there was a possibility he was shocked that he even allowed himself to touch someone who was ‘infected.’

After climbing 10 flights of stairs, you were met with another obstacle that was definitely not present the last time you had come through this way. “What the fuck man. This definitely wasn’t here last time, was it?” You asked, bent over slightly as you were catching your breath.

“No, it sure as hell wasn’t. Maybe we can try one of the doors?” Tess walked past you, trying the two doors with no luck.

“Damn. Well, maybe we can go climb through it and work our way around?”

“It’s worth a shot.”

Joel had pushed Ellie to the side then, before giving you a boost up over the rubble before you helped Tess over the side, grasping her forearms as you pulled her up.

“Just be careful, alright?” He spoke as he slowly sat down on an abandoned suitcase across from Ellie.

“Yeah yeah. We’ll be fine, cowboy. Just keep an eye on the kid.” You peeked your head out from a gap in the rubble and gave him a reassuring nod, and a subtle wink.

Ellie sat across from him, flipping her switchblade and catching it by the handle each time.

“That’s a nice knife you got there. Where’d you learn to do that?” Joel asked.

“The circus.” Ellie deadpanned.

Joel let out a deep sigh, looking off to the side as he tried to figure out why he even bothered to make small talk with a teenager.

“Where are you from?” Ellie asked.

“Texas.” He gruffly responded.

“What about Tess and Gwen?”

“Detroit. It’s in Michigan and Gwen is from Chicago.”

“I go to school, smart ass. I know where Detroit is. Chicago has that giant fucking bean, right? Always wanted to see it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she’ll tell you all about it. She’s obsessed with it. No fuckin’ clue why.”

“Uh huh. So you two like a—” Ellie already knew the answer, thanks to you. She was just slightly curious to see what Joel would respond with.

“Pass.”

“Oh well cause she told me you guys were—”

“Pass.”

“How’d you end up in Boston?”

“Pass.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Talk to a fuckin’ brick wall? Fuck. She was right, you are grumpy all the time.”

“She what? God dammit Gwen.” He growled lowly under his breath. “No more questions about me, alright? That’s enough.”

“Alright, grumpy. How long do infected live?”

Joel whipped his head back around towards her, narrowing his eyes before he chuckled, “Oh, I thought you went to school.”

“Yeah, well..it’s a really shitty one.”

“Some of ‘em last about a month or two. There’s others that have been walkin’ around ‘bout 20 years.”

“Yeah? You ever kill one?”

Joel nearly scoffed at this question, almost offended that this kid even assumed that he hadn’t killed any.

“Yeah, I have killed lots of ‘em.”

“Was it hard killing them?..like, knowing they were people once? Has it ever bothered you?..”

Joel was slightly taken aback by her question. He often did forget that the infected used to be everyday people he would see on the street. Sometimes he would be forced to face humanity, and realize that he was in a sense, killing people. He wasn’t a total monster like many would have assumed him to be. He just wasn’t the most open with sharing personal details about himself.

“Sometimes. It’s easy to forget that they were once people when they’re comin’ at you with one goal in mind; to turn you into one of ‘em. So you gotta decide if it’s gonna be you, or them. You think I survived this long without havin’ to kill?” He sighed as he leaned back against the wall. “I ain’t exactly proud of it, but it’s what you gotta do to survive. It's always either gonna be you, or them.”

“What about that guy last night?”

Just as Joel was going to respond, he could hear rustling just outside the door and he was up in a flash with his gun aimed at the door.

“You can put the gun down, cowboy. It’s just us. Relax.” You spoke through the door as you pushed it open, revealing you and Tess on the other side. From the looks on your faces alone, Joel could tell that something was definitely wrong.

“What now? Did you guys see something?”

“Yeah, and you’re not gonna like it. Not one bit I’m afraid.” You confirmed.

“Fuckin’ fantastic.” He grumbled as he gently nudged past you and Tess followed by Ellie.

Shortly after, the 4 of you were standing over the ledge of the hotel, looking down at a shrieking hoard of infected, writhing on the ground below. You were standing alongside Joel, noticing that he was nervously fidgeting with his fingers and picking at the skin around his cuticles. You gently grabbed his hand, interlocking your fingers together as you gave his hand a light, reassuring squeeze.

“The last time we were here, there weren’t nearly this many of them. Most of them were still deep inside the buildings. Guess enough people came wanderin’ through looking for the QZ. They found themselves seeking shelter..went inside the buildings and that’s how they get more of the fuckin’ city bit by bit, year after year.” Tess stated, glancing over at you and Joel momentarily before looking at Ellie.

“What’re we gonna do?” You spoke quietly to him, gently stroking your thumb across the outside of his hand, leaning in close to his tall frame.

“We’re gonna have to go through the museum. We ain’t have another choice darlin.’”

“That was nearly a suicide mission the last time we went through..remember?”

“Yeah, but there’s a chance whatever is left of ‘em is dead by now. If it gets dicey, we split and figure out another way, alright? Right now, this is our only option and I ain’t lookin’ forward to it either.” he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, just a smidge of affection that it seemed like you both needed.

“They’re connected in more ways than you know. The fungus also grows underground. Long fibers, like wires. They’re all entwined under the surface and if you step on a patch of cordyceps in one place, you can awake a dozen infected somewhere else. They know where you are and it’s only a matter of minutes before they find you. You’re not immune from being ripped apart, kid.” Tess explained.

Ellie was fully listening, soaking up all the information that Tess was providing her. The situation at hand was becoming all too real for her 14 year old self.

“We have to go through the museum. It’s the short-way and not the most ideal, nor the safest, but we ain’t have much of a choice.” Joel spoke up, letting go of your hand as he stepped forward.

“I had a really bad feelin’ you were gonna come to that conclusion Texas.” Tess spoke with a sigh.

Ellie’s eyes nearly bugged out of her skull when she saw the amount of fungus tendrils stretched across the expanse of the outside structure of the museum. The colors were faded, not nearly as vibrant as freshly infected. Despite their obvious expiration, the building still looked ominous and uninviting.

“You’re fuckin’ kidding me. We seriously have to go through there? You sure there’s not another way man? This is screaming ‘DANGER’ like c’mon, aren’t the lights flashing in your brain right now too? Cause mine are like fuckin’ sirens.”

Joel ignored the teen as he bent down, inspecting one of the thick strands of fungus. He used the butt of his gun to stab at it to check and see if it was in fact dead. “It’s bone dry. Good chance that they’re all finally fuckin’ dead in there.” He was already pulling his flashlight out from his bag while you and Tess were pulling out your guns.

“I have a spare hand y’know.” Ellie stated the obvious.

“Congratulations.” Joel responded.

He was the first to enter the museum, rifle at the ready. When he deemed it was safe enough to enter, he turned his head towards the opening of the door and gave you a quick nod to follow.

Once the 4 of you were inside the museum, Ellie’s pupils had blown out when she saw just how much fungus coated the walls, floors, and pretty much any inanimate object. It was everywhere.

Joel was still extremely cautious where he stepped, shining his flashlight along the fungus infested floor. It appeared that the once living infected, were all deceased by now. That was until Ellie stumbled upon a fresh kill and let out a surprised, “oh shit!”

Joel was immediately stepping around her, gun raised and his face immediately fell as he looked over at you and Tess. So, maybe they weren’t all dead after all. Or maybe this guy was attacked outside the museum and just found himself to be in an unlucky situation.

The three of you began to talk in a hushed whisper over the situation. Ellie could barely decipher what was being said from how low your voices were but she caught onto the bit of the conversation regarding ‘not hearing them’ what the hell were they going on about? What were they listening for? As far as she was concerned, the museum was deathly silent.

“I don’t hear anything. Who, or what would you hear?” Ellie had suddenly asked. Joel’s response was to raise his hand off his gun, giving her a warning look to shut the fuck up with his eyes alone.

“Did an infected person do that? Cause I was attacked by one and it sure as hell didn’t do that. Dude is all torn up. I’ve never seen anything like it.” She whispered.

“Okay, from this point forward, we are silent. Not quiet. Silent.” He emphasized heavy on the silent part as he looked sternly at Ellie. He held no concern over you and Tess being silent but this kid was already becoming a nuisance in his eyes. “You got that? Not one single fuckin’ sound. This isn’t funny business, kid. This is the real fuckin’ world.” He harshly whispered.

“What—”

“No. No questions. Just do what I say, alright? You wanna live to see another day, don’t you? Exactly. That’s what I thought.” He whispered as he lowered his gun and took a few silent steps to the side, locking eyes with you for a moment. Your Joel never usually showed fear. He was able to encase it well behind his hardened features. A furrow of his brow, the quirk of his upper lip, all used as decoys. Even in the low lighting, you could see his face etched with fear. Just as fast as it appeared, it was gone again, hidden behind the vast ridges of his weathered skin.

Joel had taken the lead while you silently stepped behind him, keeping your finger hovering over the trigger of your gun, ready to react if need be. You glanced back at Ellie and gave her a reassuring nod to follow you while Tess walked behind her. Despite how quiet you all were being, the old floor boards were creaking with every step your boots took.

The stairway was absolutely covered with now bone dry fungus. You couldn’t even see where the next step started from how dense the fungus was. It creeped up the walls, over paintings and the railings of the staircase. You watched Joel’s footing as he carefully stepped over a mound of once living infected. You couldn’t even make out their faces as the fungus had completely morphed them to be unidentifiable.

The sickening crunch of a once human hand beneath Ellie’s shoe had Joel whipping around, shining his flashlight that was attached to the rifle at the teenager. He gave her one long look before he turned away from her and continued to head up the stairs.

A few more steps up and Joel was at the opening of the doorway, slowly pushing it open as you waited for his silent cue. Just as he had given it to you with a slight nod of his head, some of the building's structure began to collapse and crumble as you, Tess, and Ellie stumbled inside before the debris could crush the three of you.

Joel was reaching down grasping the kids arm as he quickly helped her up from the dusty floor while you helped Tess up.

Then there was a loud screech, one that you had heard far too many times. It still sent deep chills down your spine.

click click click click

Ellie was slowly backing towards a wall, her eyes wide with fear as she tried to steady her nervous breaths.

Out from the shadows, illuminated by the steady, bright beam of Joel’s flashlight was a clicker. Its head was completely split open by the cordyceps. The brain cavern was taken over by the fungus. Thick, putrid and brightly colored. Clickers could not see, as they were blinded by the fungus, but they could hear, and they could hear very well.

Its body contorted at an uncomfortable angle as it clicked and snarled.

Another screech was heard;two clickers.

Joel was already quickly nudging you against the glass case. His face constricted painfully in your view. This was not an ideal situation to be in. Not one fucking bit.

Ellie was in his direct eyesight and he quickly mouthed to her, “they can’t see, but they can hear.”

The clicker let out a loud, bone chilling growl from the other side of the glass case. You found yourself squeezing your eyes shut momentarily, holding your gun firmly against your chest.

Don’t make a sound. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound. Don’t move.

Joel had slowly brought his pointer finger to his lips, keeping his eyes locked on Ellie to keep her calm.

You could feel the teenager's anxiety, and fear rising with every second and you silently pleaded with her to stay strong.

Joel had turned his head slightly as the clicker stumbled around the side of the glass display case. It was so close you could nearly feel its putrid breath on your skin.

Ellie had let a sharp breath slip past her lips and it was loud enough for the clicker to hear her.

It all happened in a flash as the clicker turned around and screeched loudly before it lunged. Joel had gotten a few shots into its body from where he stood, but it wasn’t nearly enough to inflict any serious damage. “RUN!” he yelled as the other clicker appeared from the shadows. You shot at it once before grabbing Ellie’s arm firmly in your grasp.

Tess had taken a couple more shots before she followed behind you. The three of you ran around the corner, hearts racing and blood fiercely pumping. The clicker was hot on your tail and gaining on you quickly. In one quick movement, you shoved Ellie to the ground, ordering her to crawl to safety.

You and Tess turned to shoot again, but neither of you had time to aim and wasting bullets was the last thing you wanted to do.

You both could hear a loud crash from the other side of the room and Joel’s heavy boots before everything went silent again.

click click click click

Joel had taken cover behind another glass cabinet as he quickly unloaded and reloaded his small pistol. His senses were on overdrive when he heard the low clicks approaching. His eyes squeezed shut momentarily, thinking that his cover was blown.

The clicker had let out a low snarl before it stalked in the other direction and he could barely make out Ellie’s crouched form behind the tarnished glass.

His footsteps were quiet, calculated and precise as he moved from his hiding spot and crouched beside Ellie. He had no other choice but to get her out of this situation. It was almost as if in those crucial moments, his protective nature had completely taken over. He was going to get this kid out of here, unscathed if it was the last thing he ever did.

Him and Ellie silently communicated with their eyes alone. One tilt of his head and she was quietly moving along the side of the glass case, following his lead. Just when he thought they were in the clear, something had crunched beneath his boot. It was stray shards of glass. His blood ran cold at the crunching sound. Neither him, nor Ellie had time to react as the clicker lunged over the glass case and threw itself on them.

You could hear Joel’s grunts and Ellie’s terrified screams from where you stood behind a nearby wall. You were going to have to act fast if you were to save them both.

bang bang bang

Joel had pumped the clicker with lead, causing it to stumble backwards, allowing him and Ellie to scramble to their feet.

You peeked around the corner, taking aim at the clicker's head before you pulled the trigger and sent it stumbling to the ground. Even after its body hit the floor with a sickening thud, Joel pulled his own trigger a few more times till it was no longer moving.

The second clicker came charging out of the blue, but didn’t make it far as Tess had thrown an ax at its neck, and you finished it off with a bullet to the head.

Once the apparent threat was deceased, everyone let out a shaky breath. From where you were standing, you could tell Tess was injured from the way she was avoiding putting too much weight on one foot. “You alright?”

“Just a twisted ankle, I’ll live. Don’t worry.” She responded.

“Fuck me.” Ellie exclaimed as she lifted up the sleeve of her hoodie and revealed a fresh bleeding bite mark along her forearm. “I mean, if it was gonna happen to one of us..”

You were at her side then and gently tugged her sleeve down. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Tess’s final and only request

You sat alongside on the roof, pulling out a roll of duct tape from your bag as she pulled off her boot. You wasted no time to start to wrap her foot with the tape. “Just a sprained ankle you said? Nothin’ else?” You asked, looking up at the older woman momentarily.

“Yeah, just a sprained ankle Gwen. I’ll be fine.” Tess looked at you as if she was studying your features. As if she was storing your image deep inside her brain so that she wouldn’t forget you, or your face.

Joel had given the kid a piece of cloth to wrap her arm before he was crouching down on the other side of Tess. “You can walk, right? Ain’t need any help?”

She looked at him the same way she had just looked at you. She wanted to keep your memories up to the very last second. “I’m fine, Texas. Really. Go on and make sure she doesn’t accidentally kill herself or somethin.’”

He gave her a small nod before he stood back up. “Yeah, I know. It looks scary and all but it really ain’t that bad.”

Ellie turned around briefly to look at him before she responded, “no. That was scary. This is wood.” Before she stepped across the thin planks to the otherside.

You gave Tess’s arm a light squeeze before you followed after the kid, glancing back at them momentarily before you crossed over the narrow planks of wood.

“What if the first bite didn’t take? What if the second one does? We’re in way over our fuckin’ heads with this Tess. We all could have fuckin’ died back there and—” Joel was cut off by Tess snapping back at him.

“How ‘bout you just take the good news? Can you please just do that for once? None of us are dead. We’re gonna finish what we started Joel.”

He looked at her briefly, trying to decipher what had ticked her off so easily before he let out a sigh and grabbed his rifle from where it laid on the discolored roof tiles and slung it back over his shoulder.

I failed them. I failed them both. I failed Bea. Tess silently thought to herself as she pulled her knees up to her chest, taking in a few shaky breaths.

Joel crossed over the planks and stood alongside Ellie.

“Is it everything you hoped for?” He asked.

“Jury’s still out.”

“But, man, you can’t deny that view.” Ellie concluded.

You were reloading your gun off to the side, glancing over your shoulder to see Tess approaching. Her demeanor alone was a sure signal that something was off. You just couldn’t figure out what exactly had happened back there. It was going to drive you up a wall, not knowing. You were sure of it.

“C’mon, let’s get there before it’s dark. We’re wasting daylight. Let’s go.” Tess gritted out between her teeth as she was already climbing down the old steel ladder. Her erratic movements threw you off guard completely.

You stopped alongside Joel, brushing your hand across the outside of his bicep before you followed Tess and Ellie down the ladder.

Joel waited a few moments in silence as he glanced down at his broken watch strapped around his wrist before he grabbed the side of the ladder and climbed down.

They’re gonna hate me.

They’ll see right through me.

What will Bea think?

Will she think me to be dead?

I let her down too.

She’ll never know what has become of me.

I won’t turn into a monster.

I won’t become one of them.

Tess was leading the way to the state house. Her footsteps were uncharacteristically fast. She seemed on edge, nervous, sporadic.

The 4 of you were crouched behind a long abandoned car outside of the state house. There was a large military grade truck parked outside. However, there were no signs of weapons, or the fireflies.

“Where the fuck are they? Marlene said they would be here. She fuckin’ promised us.” Tess whispered.

“Everyone just stay here. Alright? Somethin’ ain’t right here.” Joel whispered back before he crept from behind the car to investigate. Once he approached the truck, the 3 of you took a bated breath as he opened the door, aiming the barrel of his gun at the inside of the truck. He was met with blood stained seats but no fireflies.

The side of the open truck door was spattered with blood dripping down the dull metal.

Something definitely was not right here.

Joel had glanced back at you and Tess, shaking his head slightly to signal that it wasn’t safe just yet as he crept around the back of the truck slowly. He took a deep, visible breath as he opened up the two heavy steel doors and was met with no signs of any passengers inhabiting the vehicle.

“What the fuck is goin’ on Joel?” Tess asked as she walked towards him, brushing off your hand along your arm.

“The fuck did I just say about stayin’ back? It ain’t safe! Why didn’t you wait for my–”

“They went inside.” Ellie confirmed from where she was standing. There was a trail of blood leading up the gravel steps to the state house. This definitely was not a good sign at all.

Tess was already heading up the steps in a fury. From where you stood, you could see her hands trembling. “Come on!”

“Tess just wait a fuckin’ minute! By the looks of it, the fireflies are dead and we ain’t gettin’ our battery!” Joel yelled at her to stop.

“Come on!” She was insistent with her tone.

You, Joel, and Ellie had no choice but to follow Tess into the state house. Once inside, you were all met with the bodies of the deceased fireflies, all in a circle in the room. Their crimson blood spilled out along the tiles, staining them in a dark red.

“I mean, there’s gotta be a fuckin’ radio or somethin’ right? Help me look for one!” Tess spoke in a rushed tone as she frantically started looking through the deceased fireflies supplies, knocking over items onto the tile below, creating all sorts of noise.

“Tess? What the fuck is going on with you?” There was an edge to your tone as you came up alongside the older woman. “Maybe Joel was right..maybe we should go back to the QZ and regroup.”

“Fuck that. We’ve made it this far, and now you want to turn back? No. Help me find a radio, Gwen! There’s gotta be one around here. There has to be!”

Joel had noticed that one of the deceased fireflies had clearly been bit as he used his boot to tilt its head to the side.

“Tess, what the fuck are you doin’?” He asked while he watched her rummage around in a fury.

“Where did Marlene say she was taking you? Ellie! Where did she fuckin’ say she was taking you?” Tess ignored Joel as she walked over to the teen and you instinctively stepped in front of Ellie.

“Uhh..I don’t know. All she told me is that she was taking me west but she didn't say where exactly.”

“Just west? Fuck. Okay. She didn’t tell you anythin’ else?” Tess wasn’t even looking at you. Her eyes were frantically searching the expanse of the room. “Well, I mean, one of them’s gotta have a map on them, right? Joel? Gwen? Can you fuckin’ help me?! Stop just standin’ around!” She snapped as she started searching for anything she could find on the deceased bodies.

“No! Tess..it’s over. We are goin’ home, alright? We are way over our heads, bit off more than we can chew. We’ll go back to the QZ and–”

“That’s not my fucking home!” Tess snapped. “I’m stayin.”

“What the hell do you mean you’re stayin’? What the hell has gotten into you?! You’re actin’ fuckin’ weird! Why won’t you even look at us?!” Joel spoke exasperatedly.

Your blood suddenly ran cold. You figured out why Tess’s behavior was so sporadic and uncharacteristic for her just as Ellie had figured it out too.

“Fuck. She’s infected.” Ellie spoke softly, the realization washing over her.

Joel looked at Tess then and felt his world suddenly begin to cave in, all at once. Just before he could open his mouth to speak, you were stepping in front of him, feeling your heart pounding out of your chest.

“No. Tell me it's not true, Tess. Fucking tell me its not true!” You pleaded with her, as Joel was already protectively pulling you back behind him.

“Show me. Show me your fuckin’ arm Tess.” He demanded and when she took a step towards him, he immediately took one back. He did his best to ignore the pained look that struck across Tess’s features.

Tess let out a sigh as she drew her hand up to the collar of her jacket and pulled the fabric back to reveal the fresh bite mark along the base of her neck, along her collar bone. You could see the veins of the fungus growing up her neck already. There was only a matter of time before she would be completely gone.

“Oops, right?” She said with a pained laugh, tears threatening to spill over.

You pushed Joel out of the way once more, you weren’t afraid of Tess. She wasn’t a monster. She was still human. She was still breathing, pumping blood through her veins. “You can’t fuckin’ die. You can’t! Tess…what about Bea? You–” Your own tears had threatened to spill over as you shakily grasped the collar of Tess’s jacket between your fingers. “This wasn’t supposed to happen to you!”

You could feel Joel grabbing your forearm, trying to yank you back. “Let me the fuck go!” You snapped, ripping your arm from his firm grasp.

Tess was hugging you, nearly knocking the air from your lungs. You could feel her entire body trembling as she held you. “You fuckin’ listen to me okay? I haven’t got much time. You protect him, okay? Please protect him Gwen. He’s going to need you more than ever now. No matter what happens, no matter what he says, please don’t leave him. Keep him safe. Please.” She whispered, squeezing you tightly.

“Tess, I–”

“Promise me Gwen. Promise me you’ll be there for him”

“I promise.” You whispered.

“Tell Bea that I love her, and I'm sorry.”

Tess released you from her grip and frantically pushed you away as she stumbled back.

She addressed Joel directly now, balling her hands into fists, to ease the trembling. “Ellie. Take your bandage off.” She asked with a shaky breath, walking over to the teen as she grabbed her forearm in a firm grip.

“This is real. Joel, she’s fucking real. Look at her arm!” She let go of Ellie’s arm and brought it down to her side. Her forearm was twitching, trembling as the cordyceps were quickly invading her nervous system.

“You get her to Bill and Franks. You load up on ammo, and you take her out West. You find Tommy and the fireflies.”

“No.”

“There is no time to fuckin’ argue with me! You take her to Bill and Franks. I’ve never asked anything of you Joel. Never asked you to feel a certain way about me.”

He went to open his mouth but she immediately cut him off.

“No. You shut the fuck up and listen to me ‘cause I don’t have time. This is your chance to do some fuckin’ good for once. To make up for all the fucked up shit we did. You keep her alive. You keep her safe. You hear me? You set everything right.”

“Tess, No. I can’t fuckin’ do that.”

“Yes you fuckin’ can Joel. Please say yes, Joel, please fucking say yes.” She pleaded with him, a stray tear rolling down her cheek .

“Oh fuck!” Ellie yelled as one of the presumed deceased bodies snarled, clawing at the ground.

Joel wasted no time to pull his gun out, aiming it at the infected and pulled the trigger, sending a bullet straight to its head as it collapsed down to the mossy floor.

fuck fuck fuck.

The tendrils of the cordycep fungus rose up between the deceased fingers, and it dawned upon you that the infected were more connected than you could possibly understand. The fungus was weaved intricately below the surface, webbed together in a firm structure.

You could hear the approaching snarls from outside the wooden doors.

They were coming.

Tess was already moving around you, using the butt end of Joel’s rifle to open up the large barrels of gasoline, spilling the flammable liquid onto the tile. She was working off pure adrenaline as she knocked over each barrel. She tossed a box filled with grenades onto the floor.

The realization that Joel was losing another person who was so important, so close to his heart, was crashing down on him. He could hear his blood pounding in his ears. His eyes and mind went blank as Tess approached him. “Joel…save who you can save.” She whispered her final plea to him. These were her last words spoken in the walking, living realm.

Joel understood, as he searched her eyes. He seared her memory into the deep cavern of his brain. He would never forget her and he refused to let her down.

In a flash he had grabbed Ellie’s arm in his one hand and yours in the other, immediately yanking both of you away from the immediate danger.

“No! We’re not leaving her! We can’t! Get off me, you fucker!” Ellie yelled as she clawed at him, trying to pull her arm from his grasp.

You stumbled after him, frantically looking over your shoulder at Tess for the very last time. She gave you a small smile, followed by a reassuring nod before her face was obstructed from your view as Joel pulled you and Ellie outside, to safety.

All you hoped for was that Tess went peacefully. That she didn’t die in fear. You hoped that she died with memories of you, Joel, and Bea. Tess deserved that. She deserved to die peacefully, painlessly. You loved her to her very last moments.

Moments after Joel pulled you and Ellie outside, there was a loud explosion of breaking glass, and bright flames. The sound had Joel throwing his body over you and Ellie protectively. You could hear the distant screams of the infected suffering in the hot flames, and billowing smoke. You hoped to god that Tess wasn’t one of those blood curdling screams.

Joel immediately had his gun raised, ready to shoot down any stray infected. There were none. They were all dead. Tess had sacrificed herself for your lives. She gave you a fighting chance and you’d never forget her bravery.

You brought your arm around Ellie’s shaken up frame, giving her a firm squeeze. You kept her close as you turned her body away from the destruction and death.

Joel had already walked away as he could feel tears begin to prick in the corner of his eyes. He quickly blinked them away as he slung his rifle over his shoulder.

The three of you were dead silent as you walked into the nearby woods. Your mind felt numb, and your heart was raw. Tess had so much more life ahead of her to live. She had friends, a lover, and a purpose. She was smart, witty, and brave. She fought for those she loved, till her dying breath.

Joel was crouched down alongside the river, far away from you and Ellie. He was reaching into the clear stream, picking up rocks below the surface and gently stacking them upon one another. He was creating a cairn in her memory. A silent memorial for her short life. He thought of her as he placed each stone on top of one another.

I’m sorry. I should have done more. I should have been quicker. I should have protected you. I let you down. I failed you.

Your approach towards Joel was hesitant. You had no idea how he was going to react to your attempt to comfort him. You knew he didn’t handle loss, of any kind, well. You refused to let him suffer alone. He had his moment where he could mourn in peace. You wouldn’t take that moment from him. He deserved it. You both did. Despite this, your heart pulled you towards him. You had to make sure he was okay. You needed each other more than ever now. Tess’s words echoed in your mind with each step you took. “No matter what happens, no matter what he says, please don’t leave him. Keep him safe. Please.”

Joel could hear your footsteps slowly approach. His back immediately tensed up at the sound of your boots crunching under stray twigs. His heart yearned for your touch, your comfort. His mind was scrambled. It screamed for him to shut you out. This was your fault, after all. You insisted they take the kid from the get-go. In his eyes, and his fragile mind, Tess was dead because of you.

He squeezed his eyes shut when he felt the warm expanse of your palm press between his shoulder blades. His breath trembled as he fought hard to not lean into your touch.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me.” He hissed lowly, keeping himself facing the stream.

“Joel, Please..Don’t—”

“Don’t what? It’s your fuckin’ fault that Tess is dead.” He harshly whispered, clenching his jaw tightly as he let his toxic thoughts slip through his broken, cracked lips.

His words felt like a thousand knives stabbing you in the heart over, and over again. You took a shaky inhale, remembering Tess’s final request to you.

“You don’t mean that. You don’t mean that Joel. You’re upset..let me–”

He whipped around to face you, his eyes narrowed into slits as he rose to his feet, towering over you. “I fuckin’ mean every goddamn word. You insisted from the get-go that we take this fuckin’ kid. I told you it was a bad idea. See what happens when you try to be the fuckin’ hero, Gwen?”

You took a step back from him, feeling your own tears threatening to spill over. “Stop. Please fucking stop! I am not at fault for Tess’s death! Neither of us could have predicted this to happen Joel!”

“I fuckin’ told you that we should just take her back to the QZ! What do you do instead? You fight against me, tooth and fuckin’ nail! Every goddamn fuckin’ time. Why couldn’t you have just listened to me for once in your goddamn life!” He spat, taking two heavy steps towards you.

“Because Ellie is just a fuckin’ kid! She’s just a kid that is now OUR responsibility! Tess agreed that we shouldn’t take her back to the QZ! She agreed with me, Joel!”

He scoffed, shaking his head as he let out a deep chuckle.

“Do you fuckin’ hear yourself right now?! Fuckin’ take some accountability for your fuckin’ actions! Tess is dead because of you! Bea is never going to see her again, because you wanted to fuckin’ save this kid, this cargo! How does it feel, huh? Are you fuckin’ happy with yourself Gwen? Do you feel fuckin’ good inside right now baby?! TELL ME HOW IT FUCKIN’ FEELS!”

Joel’s booming voice rattled your skull, and pierced your heart. You physically felt yourself cowering away from him, shrinking in on yourself.

Ellie had heard Joel’s yell from where she was sitting against a nearby tree. She was up and running to your aid immediately. You watched as the teen shoved at Joel with her hands, pushing him back with rage filled in her tear brimmed eyes.

“Hey! Leave her alone, you fucker! Leave her alone! It’s not her fucking fault! LEAVE HER ALONE!” Ellie yelled as she shoved his chest as hard as she could.

Joel was grabbing the teens wrists in his calloused palms, immediately shoving her away.

“You fuckin’ stay out of this kid! This ain’t your fuckin’ business!” He felt his pulse drop when he heard the familiar click of your gun perched firmly between your shaking hands. The barrel was shakily aimed at him.

“LEAVE HER OUT OF THIS JOEL. YOU WANNA LET YOUR ANGER OUT ON ME? FINE. LEAVE ELLIE OUT OF THIS!” You yelled, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“You gonna fuckin’ shoot me?”

“If you lay your hands on her again, I won’t hesitate.”

“You’re breakin’ my fuckin’ heart baby.”He seethed between his gritted teeth.

“Gwen..” Ellie pleaded with you.

“It’s okay, kid. I will handle this, okay? Please just...just go sit down. Please.” You whispered, giving the teen a reassuring nod that everything would be okay. Joel would never hurt you. He would never dare.

Ellie looked between you, and the brooding man before she reluctantly nodded, walking away.

Your gun was still aimed at your lover as your tears continued to fall. “How fucking dare you speak to me like this Joel. What the fuck is wrong with you?!? How dare you speak to Ellie like that! She has done NOTHING to you, Joel!”

He took a few menacing steps towards you, feeling the barrel of your gun pressed firmly against the cavern of his chest. Your lower lip was trembling, your eyes glassy with tears as you looked up at him.

“You gonna pull that fuckin’ trigger baby? You gonna pump me full of lead?”

“You know I can’t Joel. You know I fuckin’ can’t.” You whispered shakily.

“Just like you can’t fuckin’ admit that you’re the reason Tess is dead. Can’t own up to your fuckin’ actions to save your life.”

“Please stop Joel. Please. I’m begging you to please fucking stop. You’re hurting me. You’re fucking hurting me!” You yelled. Your tone was raw, heartbroken, beaten.

“Who are you fuckin’ shedding those tears for, huh?! You shedding those tears for Tess? She hated you! You know she fuckin’ hated you with every fibre in her fuckin’ being! You don’t get to cry for her! She meant NOTHING to you. Don’t stand there and act like she did! You don’t get to weep and feel sorry for YOURSELF!”

The barrel of your gun was pushing so deep into his chest now. Surely there would be a bruise of some sort forming but it was clear he didn’t give a fuck about that. Not even in the slightest. He felt his heart screaming at him to stop but it was too late. The words were spoken and they were etched deep into your own heart. Joel had gone and done the unforgivable.

“Fuck You. You don’t get to stand there and tell me how I'm allowed to feel Joel! She was my fucking FRIEND too! We had our differences, and we overcame them! I fucking loved her and YOU don’t get to take that away from me! YOU DON’T HAVE THE POWER TO TELL ME HOW I CAN AND CAN’T FEEL!”

Joel’s breaths were coming out in heavy puffs, fanning your face as you watched his nostrils flare, and his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Deep down, he knew this wasn’t an argument to win. He was just devastated that he lost someone so close to him. He never learned how to handle loss well, his old habits, and toxic feelings welcomed him in with soft whispers, and warm touches.

This was not your Joel.

“Gwen…” He whispered.

“No. Fuck you. You don’t get to say all that, speak to me that way, and take it all back. You don’t get to fuckin’ do that Joel.”

“Baby, I’m sorry I didn’t–”

“NO.”

“Gwen. You know I didn’t mean it..I lashed out, but I didn’t mean any of it! I got you, you got me, Always. Remember? I’m so sorry I–”

As soon as he was reaching out for you, you harshly pushed him away, pressing the barrel of the gun further into his chest.

“You’ll never fucking touch me again Joel. Never.” You whispered.

You removed the barrel of the gun from his chest, pointing it upwards towards the sky, before you pulled the trigger.

The deafening sound of the bullet being released and cracking through the cool air had him flinching.

You wanted him to know that you could have pulled the trigger on him. You loved that man too much to hurt him. You could never.

“Stay the fuck away from me. Don’t you dare come near me.” You seethed, tucking your gun back into the holster around your waist before you turned on your heel, and walked away from him.

Joel was left standing near the rivers edge, watching as you walked far, far away from him.

‘Cause do I love you..Oh, I do..and I'm going to ‘til I'm gone…’

Tag list:

@chaotic-mystery @peterhollandkait @yuly @soft-cryptids @dinsdjrn @myrealmofchaos @itskenziebb @lovers-liability @korynnekorynne @ems-alexandra @kirsteng42 @casssiopeia @novemberrain-writes @goodwithcheese @loquaciousferret @sarahhxx03 @777-wonders @bearsbeetsbeskar @beskarandblasters @dinsdjrn @bonglorddaryl @mirasantidotes @luvrking @finnsbubblegum @pedrostories

[mirkwoodshewolf]

A departed farewell; Eddie Munson x reader

*Author's note*

To all out there, HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! Okay so this one is kinda heavy but after getting reintroduced to the great film known as The Crow, this little fic was born and I wanted to post it up on Halloween night. But there is also some heavy warnings which I will say below, so to the faint of heart or those at are easily triggered, I won't be hurt if you decide to skip this fic. Have a happy Halloween (and if you don't celebrate it, have a good day/afternoon/evening).

Warnings: Eddie's death scene, drug use (not just weed, I'm talking hardcore drugs shown and mentioned here), depression, angst, some fluff, Vamp Eddie(? You decide), death.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queen-paladin

__________________________________________________________

Dustin Henderson and Steve Harrington walked out along the wooded trails all the way to Reefer Rick’s boathouse.  In his hands, Dustin held some wild flowers that he had picked before he had Steve drive him up here.  They stopped before the boathouse and Dustin placed the wild flowers amongst the pile of already decaying flowers that had been placed there throughout the year.

“I still can’t believe it’s been over a year since it happened.” Dustin said weakly.  “He didn’t deserve any of this. And he deserved to have a proper burial. Why did I have to break my damn leg?!”

“You didn’t break it. But you can’t blame yourself for what happened Dustin. You didn’t know Eddie was going to do what he did.”

“I just……I just still can’t believe he’s really gone. He of all people didn’t deserve what he got. I mean the people we lost when all this started, they didn’t get any of the shit that Eddie got. This town—hates him. Still hates him. They really think he did all of this and we can’t change that.”

“It sucks, I’ll admit that. But small minded people can never be changed, no matter how hard we try. At least we know the truth that Eddie Munson went out a hero. A hardcore, metal hero.”

“Have you and Robin tried talking to (Y/n) recently?” asked Dustin.

“Do you really need to ask?”

“Right, dumb question.”

“As her twin brother I know we’re supposed to rag on each other at times, but now I really mean it when I say it. She looks like she’s been through hell, chewed up and then spat back up. She’s not sleeping, she’s barely eating. And what’s worse are the drugs.”

“You mean…..”

“I wish dude, she’s been at the hard stuff. Don’t know where she’s getting it but I’ve seen the syringes and rubber bands. I can’t stand to see her in that much pain. She needs help but everytime I try to talk to her about it she—”

“She was right there with him when he died Steve. Those bats literally held her back just so that she could watch as they devoured him alive. On one hand I don’t blame her for falling like that, hell if I were in her place and I saw Suzie die like that, I’d probably fall that hard too.”

“Don’t you ever say anything like that you little butthead! I don’t ever want you talking about drugs again understand?!”

“On the other hand, she isn’t grieving properly. And that’s on all of us, we were too focused on how we had to move on with the rest of the town after the earthquakes happened that we completely ignored (Y/n)’s feelings. And it’s not just your fault Steve.” Steve shook his head, stroking his fingers through his hair anxiously.

“I’m 12 minutes older than her. I’m her big brother, and—I wasn’t there for her. Not ever since we entered high school. These last couple of years we’ve managed to rebuild our sibling bond but now I……I’m losing her again man.” Tears started to build up in Steve’s eyes.  “I can’t….I can’t lose another person.” He thought back on Max and how he had failed to keep her safe.

She was a sarcastic child who suddenly came in when she and Billy came by but after reading her note, she had admitted to him that he was the big brother she had hoped Billy could’ve been for her, and it all happened ever since he stepped forward to keep them safe when Billy came looking for her.  Sure he got his ass beat but he was willing to keep himself in the line of Billy’s rage and not let any of the kids get a single punch.  Now—now when she needed him most, he failed her.

Dustin looked up to see that Steve had buried his eyes behind his right hand and saw how his shoulders began shaking as he choked on his sobs.  Dustin gave Steve a one armed hug.

“We’ll get her back. We’ll get them both back.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’m not. But it’s all that’s going through my mind. And I’m not gonna rest until we finally find a way to kill Vecna and send that son of a bitch straight to hell.”

“You’re a tough kid Henderson, hell of a lot tougher than me.” Steve ruffled his hair then the two of them left Reefer Rick’s boathouse and drove back to town.

*Halloween 1987*

It was Halloween night and unlike in the years before, Hawkins wasn’t celebrating Halloween this year.  There was no yearly town hall Halloween party, no trick-or-treaters going out and about to get candy, not even the high schoolers dared to try and host a party of their own.

At Forest hill trailer park, the crack that had spread from this part of Hawkins had actually driven most of the trailer homeowners to leave Hawkins all together.  Most took their RV’s and fled, while others just packed whatever they could and skipped town or ended up homeless and were currently staying at a shelter on the other side of Hawkins.

A hand suddenly shot up from the cracks and began crawling out from the earth.  Groaning and grunting in agony as he pulled himself out from the red light of the Upside town glowing from beneath the earth.  Once he was free, he lay there on his back exhausted and stared up at the night sky.  The stars shining like diamonds high above the abandoned trailer park.

Suddenly the man heard a meow and when he opened his eyes, a long haired black cat stared down at him with piercing green eyes he could make out from the light of the full moon.

“Loki?” the cat let out a purr as his eyes squinted but then he licked the man’s finger before nuzzling into his hand.  He lifted his hand and stroked through the cat’s long soft fur and asked. “Wha—what happened here?” suddenly something flashed before his eyes.  A flash like seeing the tv suddenly go static after a power outage.  He gripped his forehead before he found himself standing up and walking forward.

He stumbled about, falling a couple of times but as his vision kept flashing he kept standing back up and trudged onward.  He saw himself standing on top of his trailer, shredding on his guitar.  A swarm of bat-like creatures surrounding him and two other people, he then found himself falling down once more but he also saw himself falling, this time off a bike and he had been attacked by one of those bat creatures.

He saw himself stand up wielding a spear as well as a trashcan shield with nails sticking out and he stood up getting into the same position as he saw himself in that vision.  He then saw the girl from before coming toward him calling his name.

“EDDIE! EDDIE!!!”

“(Y/n)?! What are you doing here?! You weren’t supposed to come back!”

“I made a promise Mr. Frodo! A promise! Don’t you leave him Samwise Gamgee. And I don’t mean to, I don’t mean to.” She told him.  He shook his head and found himself saying as he heard himself in his vision say.

“Into the fires of Mount Doom milady?” She nodded and together the two of them stood as the bats swarmed around them before charging head on, the two of them using their trashcan shields to block off the attacks.

He copied his fighting movements of spear and shield, as he saw the girl, (Y/n) use a bottle of hairspray and with a lighter, she had created her own flamethrower to burn any bats that came near her.  He then felt and saw himself being choked by one of the bats and felt himself being pulled to the ground. 

His arms and legs were pulled outward and he saw the bats beginning to feast on his flesh.  He saw and remembered the pain of their teeth piercing his skin and digging out chunk after chunk of flesh.  All the while he could hear (Y/n) screaming out his name as she was forcefully held back by the bats.  Their tails wrapped around her arms, legs, neck and stomach, even as she pulled to free herself, they pulled harder until suddenly they dropped dead.

She crawled over to his bleeding body whimpering out his name and picking him up into his lap.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no baby! Teddy-bear! Don’t you leave me don’t you die like Boromir did!”

“Bad huh?” he choked up.  Soon another voice spoke up, this time a younger man’s voice assured him.

“No, no you’re gonna be fine we just need to get you to a hospital okay?”

“Okay.” He choked up.  Together (Y/n) and the young man tried to pick him up but the pain in his body was too great as he pleaded.

“I-I-I think I just need a second, I need a second, okay?”

“Okay, okay we—we’ll give it to you.” (Y/n) assured him as she rested his head on her lap, stroking through his hair.  He looked up at both (Y/n) and the young man and strained out as blood started coming up his throat.

“I didn’t run away this time right?”

“No. No baby, you-you didn’t run. Though I wish you did. Whatever happened to having no shame in running?” she asked him.

“You both are gonna have to look after those little sheep for me okay?” he told them.

“No! You’re gonna do that yourself!” the young man said but he found himself saying along with his vision.

“No man. Say you’re going to look after them. Say it Henderson.” He saw as the two of them were sobbing over him.  (Y/n) took his left hand and raised it up to her face, the blood along his arm seeping into her hands but she didn’t care.

“I’m gonna….I’m gonna look after them.” Henderson choked out.  He then found himself looking up at (Y/n), only at her even through his hazy vision as he asked her.

“And you…..fair Ravenna.” She choked out a sob.  “Please smile for me…….please.” with as much strength as he could, he managed to move his index finger along her jawline.  She kissed the back of his hand and gave a small, sweet smile.  “Good…..cause I…..think I’m actually going to graduate. I think it’s my year sweetheart—Hen-Henderson. I think it’s finally my year……” he remembered feeling the blood starting to rise in his throat, preventing him from speaking full sentences but he did manage to make one last statement before he fell silent.

“I love you guys.”

“I love you too.” Henderson wept.

“This belongs to you Eddie Munson, and always will.” He felt her hand cup the side of his face, watched as she leaned forward and felt the soft touch of her lips on his bloody ones.  Even with the taste of iron that was now seeping between her lips, she dared not move as she kept the gentle, loving kiss going until she separated from him.

And it was at that moment he had felt himself slip into darkness.

He remembered who he was.  He was Eddie Munson, three-time senior of Hawkins High.  Dungeon Master of the Hellfire club, and the love of his life was (Y/n) Harrington.

Eddie stood up and walked towards a trailer that had somehow miraculously survived the earthquake.  He opened the door and knew that no one was home as the place had been ransacked and just left behind for anyone to have.  Loki followed him inside, racing into the bathroom and hopped on top of the sink.

Eddie stared at himself in the mirror as memories of him and (Y/n) together flashed through his mind.  Them cuddled on her bed when he’d sneak over to her house.  The times they’d both try to cook something only to end up nearly burning the trailer down and his uncle having to stop the flames from spreading cause the two of them would be panicking too much.

Seeing her read all her favorite fantasy books from Tolkien to C.S Lewis and even J.M Barrie’s Peter Pan.  Him hovering over her as she would be sitting on a chair while she read and kissing her neck and face, pleading for attention.  And even though she tried to fight it, giggles would come out from her lips until she ended up succumbing to his will and they’d end up making out, or even going further beyond that.

The love he felt for (Y/n) both filled him with joy and agony.  How could he leave her like that? He knew that she had many people in her life abandon her.  Her parents, her friends, even her own twin brother had left her behind.  He was all she had and he left her.  His anger rose until he snapped and punched the mirror with his bare fist, breaking it in half.

His knuckles bleeding until he saw them heal up in the blink of an eye.  He turned to Loki who merely looked at him and slowly blinked before letting out a throaty meow.  Eddie dug through the cabinets and drawers of the bathroom until he had found some white base makeup and black lipstick.  He dipped his fingers into the white base, rubbed his hands together and covered his face in white makeup.

With the black lipstick he drew down from his eyes what almost resembled tearstains, as well as covered his lips black and even drew a line upward at the corner of his lips.  He stripped out of his torn and bloody clothes and managed to find a skin-tight along-sleeved black shirt, a long leather jacket, black pants and some old black boots.  He donned on the new look before turning over to Loki who raised a paw at him letting out a small meow.

Eddie rubbed Loki’s head before picking him up and walked out of the bathroom.

“I blame myself for wrecking your home Loki. I’ll bet it hasn’t been easy for god knows how long it’s been. But I’m going to make this right.” Loki meowed and as Eddie sat him down, Loki ran out the trailer and he followed the black cat.

At the Henderson household, Dustin had been pretty much kept under his mom’s tight thumb.  He wasn’t allowed anywhere unless it was school and back home.  Hell he was lucky if he was able to even get to visit Max once if not twice a week just to see how she’s doing or if anything had changed (even though nothing had. She had been in her coma for over a year now).

As rain now began to pour down heavily on this Halloween night, he looked at his old Ghostbusters proton pack from three years ago and thought back to simpler times.  He wished that those days would come back, long before the whole Upside down and he and his friends were the four weirdos who loved to play DnD all day and night at each other’s houses.

He heard a gentle rap at the window and when he turned around he saw Loki sitting right outside his window.

“Loki?” he remembered seeing the long-haired black cat over at Forest hill whenever he’d go to visit Eddie.  He opened the window and allowed the drenched cat inside.  “I thought you had gotten caught up when the Upside down opened up, guess (Y/n) was right to name you after the Norse god of mischief.” Loki let out a meow.  “Oh yeah, think you can let me dry you off?” Loki let out a merp (a mix of a meow and a purr) and Dustin left to get a cat-sized towel that his mom uses on their cat whenever he got out.

When Dustin returned with the towel, he gently dried off Loki then allowed the cat to lick himself clean.

“What are you doing all the way over here anyways?” Loki paused and turned to the corner of Dustin’s room and there he saw a figure hidden within the shadows.  Dustin jumped back fearfully and Eddie said.

“You know you gotta learn to shut your windows Dustin Henderson. You never know what freaks lurk in the night.” Dustin narrowed his eyes as he heard the voice.

“I can’t believe it…….Eddie?”

“Nice to see you again butthead.” Dustin took large strides across his room and embraced Eddie, tears falling down his face.  Eddie hugged the young boy back and Dustin looked up at him.

“How did—I mean how is…..I saw you die. How are you alive? Does (Y/n) know? When did you get back? How long have you been alive? What happened?”

“Henderson, you’re rambling like a mad man.” Eddie stopped the young boy’s frantic question asking.

“Sorry.” Dustin said meekly.

“I honestly don’t know how it happened. One moment I was dying in (Y/n)’s arms and next thing I know, I’m crawling out of a gateway from hell. I don’t even know if I’m really alive or not.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie walked over to Loki and stroked down his chest before trailing his finger towards his right paw.  He knew that Loki once had been attacked by another stray cat and his right paw never fully healed, so now anytime someone goes to touch that paw, he’ll bite since he had been declawed by his previous owners.

After Eddie got a nasty bite and Loki went over to sit on Dustin’s dresser now, his tail twitching.

“Eddie what the hell did…..”

“Just watch.” Eddie showed Dustin how the nasty bite wound now began to close up, just like what happened to his knuckles after he had punched the mirror.

“Holy shit.” Dustin muttered.

“But that’s my least concern right now. I need to ask you some questions. How long has it been since that day?”

“It’s been over a year. It’s 1987 now, Halloween. Of course no one really celebrates that holiday here anymore ever since the gates opened and split Hawkins in four ways.”

“I take it we didn’t kill Vecna?”

“Nancy, Steve and Robin definitely laid one on him. But there wasn’t a body after Nancy gave him one last shot to the chest. Will even says he can still feel him, that he is weak but bidding his time.” Eddie looked down grimly.  “We…..also lost Max. I mean we sorta did but she hasn’t woken up yet. And I’m sorry Eddie, I’m really, really sorry. But the town put all of this mess onto you.”

“No surprise there. Last anyone knew of me, I was wanted for Chrissy’s and Patrick’s murders. Once the satanic freak, always the satanic freak.” Eddie plopped down onto Dustin’s bed.

“I’ve tried to get Hooper to work with the government to clear your name but they’re still in the processing phase, which is basically them saying they’ve got too much on their plate right now to deal with this specific request.” Eddie perked his head up.  “Oh yeah, apparently Hooper was alive in a Russian gulag and Joyce brought him back along with Murray the conspiracy maniac.”

“All be damned. One of the only cops in this town I actually liked back from the grave. Guess we have that in common.” There was a brief moment of silence before Dustin said.

“Eddie……” Eddie looked up at Dustin and knew what the kid wanted to say.

“There’s nothing you can say Henderson. What happened, happened. Me being associated with you had nothing to do with my death.” He stood up and walked over to Dustin.  He placed two firm hands on Dustin’s shoulders, looked him square in the eye and continued, “It was a shitshow there’s no question about it. But the fact that you were the first and only one to truly believe I wouldn’t do this besides (Y/n), I couldn’t ask more of a friend. Hell even a little brother. But don’t go getting a big head about it, okay?” Dustin slightly chuckled as tears fell down his face.  He wiped them away and choked out.

“I’ve missed you Eddie.”

“Missed you too yah little shit.” Dustin immediately held onto Eddie as tight as he could.  Eddie rested his head on top of Dustin’s as he patted the young man’s back.

“Eddie, there’s something else you should know.” Eddie separated from the hug and Dustin told him, “It’s about (Y/n). She…..she’s really spiraled ever since you—well you know. And I’m scared she’s going down a path she can’t come back from. It’s more than just shutting herself in or not talking to us. Steve told me she’s been getting into drugs. And I don’t mean the light stuff.”

“And what has Steve done?”

“He’s tried everything. And I know he doesn’t want to admit it, but she’s not just hurting him emotionally. I saw the faint scratch marks on his left cheek. I know she’s not doing it on purpose but…..I’m scared we’ll lose her too if she keeps going down this path.”

“I’ll get the info I need from Harrington. But this meeting never happened, understand Henderson?” Dustin nodded.

“Thank you Eddie. Love you man.”

“Love you too butthead.” With a loud boom of thunder and a bright flash of lighting, Dustin found himself once again alone in his room.

Over at the Harrington’s place, Steve was cleaning himself up in the bathroom.  Once again he and his twin had their daily screaming match of (Y/n)’s wellbeing, this time she had given him a hard punch to the nose and he had finally managed to get the bleeding to stop.

He walked into the kitchen and got out a beer, needing to take the stress out of him.

“Might wanna take something a bit stronger if you wanna take the edge off after a fight, trust me.” Steve jumped back but saw no one there.

“Who’s there?” Steve called out.

“Surely you know, after all this isn’t the first time I’ve snuck into this house.” Steve’s eyes widened and he immediately raced up the stairs and opened up his sister’s room and saw Eddie stroking his hand along (Y/n)’s acoustic guitar which sat at the corner of her room.

“This-this—that’s not possible. How are you—”

“Henderson asked me the same question.”

“Wait you saw Henderson? I swear if you’re one of Vecna’s tricks I swear to god……”

“One way to prove it’s actually me is that back in 81, I snuck in here to be with your sister after she had failed the SAT’s. Poor thing was so devastated she wouldn’t come to school for nearly a week cause it happened to be the time your parents came for their daily check in and she had a screaming match with your old man. So I came here that night and stayed with her. Then you barged right on in and said to me ‘Get out of my house freak! And don’t show your face around here again!’”

“Jesus Christ…..it really is you.”

“Nice to know when it comes to your sister you’re not that clueless anymore Harrington.” Eddie couldn’t help but mock with a smirk.

“If you’re here to mock me for being a horrible brother I already know that Eddie.”

“No, no I didn’t come here to gloat or to mock. Henderson gave me a brief summary on all that happened, but I want to hear your perspective.” He fully turned towards Steve holding up the locket necklace he had given her for a 16th birthday present their junior year.  “What happened to my best girl?” Steve sighed heavily.  He sat down on (Y/n)’s bed and confessed.

“(Y/n) was amess. At first it started off with her barely eating, then it was the constant nightmares of seeing you die over and over again. Then I noticed how she’d end up disappearing at night. I didn’t know where she was going until I caught her sneaking back in and her nose was bleeding. But not in the way where she’d been in a fight, and I didn’t want to believe it but I swear I thought I saw some white powder under her nose. Then it was the injections on her arms, I’ve been trying to get her to get some help but she’s lost it Eddie. Your death seemed to really fuck her mind up.”

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie mumbled solemnly.

“Now I don’t blame you, no way in hell am I blaming you. I just….It just pains me to see my twin sister like this. It’s like I’m feeling her pain like some weird twin telepathy if that shit’s even real. But I can’t stand to see her in that much pain, and for her not to know that she still has people here for her. Hell Henderson was there when you died too, and she’s acting like he wasn’t. You don’t think he’s feeling the same pain as she is?”

“She always did tease that we should’ve just grown a pair and shared custody of the twerp.” Eddie softly chuckled.

“She’s always struggled with depression ever since middle school. Our parents chose to ignore it and kept telling her to get over it or smile more. You’re not depressed, you’re just being dramatic. When she met you, that was probably the first time I’ve ever seen her truly happy.” Steve walked over to an old picture of her and Eddie together at the junior prom.  “Deep down I guess I also grew jealous of just how happy she was around you, and not me. Now I see that it was because of my selfishness that I drove her away. And even when I got our relationship back to the way it was before, I knew she’d put you over me in a heartbeat.”

“Your wrong.” Steve turned to him.

“What do you mean?”

“You remember how we were on Lover’s lake to find that gate where Patrick was killed?” Steve nodded.  “And you remember how you were dragged under the water, and I told you that Wheeler didn’t hesitate to dive in after you?” Steve nodded again.  “She wasn’t the first. In fact, the second you went down, your sister dove in straight after you. Even for not being the best swimmer, she dove straight in after you. She does love you Steve. Like you said, twin telepathy is a serious bond. Now old King Steve, he wouldn’t have dared try to help (Y/n) in her grieving stage. But you’re not him anymore, you’re her twin brother Steve Harrington. The one she always believed was still somewhere deep inside of you.”

Steve scoffed but Eddie came up to him and placed a hand over his chest.

“You’re still trying, still fighting for her. But before you can save her, you have to save yourself. Not just for what happened to me, but for all that happened. That includes Mayfield.” Steve’s eyes slightly widened.  “I’ve seen how you are with her Harrington. Ever since that mall fire, I’ve seen how you’ve come around to check in on her, how you’ve always tried to be there for her at school, and how you’ve been with her since I found out about this Upside down and Vecna shit. How can you even try to help your sister when you’re clearly not ready to forgive yourself?”

Steve couldn’t believe it but Eddie Munson was actually making sense.  Ever since he had been knocked back into reality since all of this began, and ended up forming a bond with the kids who started it all, he’s been trying to be the big brother he naturally was to the kids who began it all.  He knew none of the adults (minus Joyce and Hooper) wouldn’t understand and that the kids needed someone to protect them whenever no one was around.  So he ended up becoming the ‘babysitter’ as he was deemed at first.

And at first it was an annoying title but now, ever since their first big failure, he began to truly understood why he was called that.  He felt a strong need to protect these kids because who else was going to when Joyce had moved, when Nancy decided to try and return to her normal life, who else was there to talk to about all this stuff? Only him.

“She’s been dealing with Daniel Thompson.” Steve told him.

“Daniel. If there’s any drug dealer that should be in jail it’s that prick. At least Rick and I never dealt to pre-teens.” Eddie hissed as he felt his teeth starting to grow a bit sharp before they receded.  “Does he still live in Hawkins?”

“After the earthquake he moved over to the next county about 20 minutes’ drive from here. You know what, screw it.” Steve raced over and grabbed his keys as well as his bat with nails.  “C’mon.” Eddie followed close behind them and Steve started up his BMW and drove out of his driveway and through the storm to get his sister back by any means necessary.

With Eddie’s abilities, they were able to track down exactly where (Y/n) had gone to see Daniel and to Steve, it looked exactly where a drug dealer would live.  A very run down apartment complex in what appeared to be an unsafe part of town.  The rain still pouring down as Steve grabbed his bat.

“So what, you gonna come with and we bust his ass open?” Steve asked.

“This isn’t West side story Harrington. Daniel isn’t one to be messed with especially if he’s using with her. You go in there ready to bust his ass in, he’ll have you shot dead before you can even blink.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“Just follow my lead.” They exited the car and crept towards the fire escape on the side of the building.  Steve then watched in shock as Eddie leapt up and across the railings of the fire escape with ease.

“That would normally scare the shit out of me but I’ve seen freakier shit than that to be surprised.” He climbed up the fire escape until he stood by Eddie as he looked into a darkened room.  He placed his hand along the window and said.

“She’s in there. They’re both high as kites right now.”

“How can you tell?”

“I can smell the burnt spoons and blood inside.”

“Blood? Eddie are you—are you some kind of vampire or something?”

“Or something.” Eddie slowly opened the window and slipped inside like an assassin on a mission.

Once he was inside the room, he saw (Y/n) passed out on the bed while Daniel was up against his headboard staring up into space after getting his high.  Eddie scoffed before letting out a low whistle that seemed to stir them both from their high.  (Y/n) let out a groan and opened her eyes slowly raising her head while Daniel looked on ahead.

“What the…..fuck?” As Eddie continued to whistle, he noticed a lightbulb just hanging above him and trailed his head around it like a dazed man.  He then once again felt his canine teeth grow into fangs as a sudden primal instinct came over him.  He slowly walked towards them then once he got to the bed, he let out a leopard-like roar, baring his fangs which scared Daniel but startled (Y/n).  “JESUS CHRIST MAN!! You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack!”

“Are his…..eyes glowing red? Damn his costume is like…..all in.” (Y/n)’s tone was slurred.  Eddie couldn’t believe that this was the woman he had fallen in love with.  She had fallen so far and so fast ever since his death, but he was going to make it right.  But first he had to get her away from Daniel for good.

“Just the morphine yah dumb bitch. This is just some….freak looking for some kicks.” It was then Daniel withdrew his gun out from under his pillow. “Time for you to get out of here psycho. I ain’t got no more stuff, me and the girlie here used it all up.” Eddie withdrew his fangs and his glowing red eyes turned back to his normal dark brown as he pulled up a chair and sat down.  He pressed his palm against the barrel of the gun and dared him.

“Take your shot Thompson. You got me dead flank.”

“You are seriously fucked up.” Daniel said.  (Y/n) laughed in her high as Daniel continued, “Like you really need psycho-therapy help you sick fuck.” It was then Daniel pulled the trigger making Eddie jump back holding his hand in pain.

Daniel stood up and cheered in his victory on a bullseye but after his brief cries of pain, Eddie soon began laughing as he showed them both his hand and he then let out a cheer as the bullet hole healed instantly.  Daniel’s joy soon turned to panic and fear as he muttered.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Jesus Christ. Stop me if you’ve heard this before; Jesus Christ walks into a hotel.” Daniel shot Eddie in the shoulder which made him lurch backward a bit but he recovered and started walking towards him, continuing with the taunting joke, “He hands the innkeeper three nails and asks,” another shot rang out this time to Eddie’s stomach.

(Y/n) got out from the bed staring at the figure in fear.  At the second gunshot she ended up tripping over the bed sheets trying to get away but for some reason she couldn’t help but stare at the figure before Daniel.

“Don’t you ever fucking die!?” Daniel demanded.

“Can you put me up for the night?” in a flash, Eddie had forced Daniel to point the gun down at his own leg, the gun went off firing straight through Daniel’s femur, blood splattering everywhere.  Daniel cried out in agony, clenching his bleeding thigh between his hands.  “Hurts doesn’t it? When someone takes advantage of your weakness? Imagine what she’s gone through before you coaxed her into your web. In fact I’ll let you feel it.”

Eddie extended his hand and placed it over Daniel’s eyes and with a deep growl, Eddie allowed Daniel to feel every ounce of pain both he and (Y/n) felt on that day.  Daniel let out a scream before he fell still and stiff as a board.

Once Daniel was taken care of, Eddie heard the bathroom door shut.  He dropped the gun and slowly walked toward the bathroom.  He opened it and saw as (Y/n) was waving her arms back and forth meekly holding what appeared to be an old razor.  Her screams of fear piercing the bathroom echoing as she pleaded for her life.

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!! STAY AWAY!!” Eddie grabbed both her wrists and got the razor out of her hands.  He pressed her back against his chest as he dragged her towards the mirror, her wailing making his heart ache but he had to fix this.  He had her stand before the mirror, one hand holding out her arm that had been filled with old and new puncture wounds, while his other hand held her across her forehead.

“You once said; What is grief if not love persevering? It is okay to cry and mourn for those we lost,” she then saw as the veins in her arm suddenly began to move and she felt the morphine slip down her arm.  “Drugs however is not the way to grieve.” (Y/n) soon felt her mind starting to clear up and when she turned to the man, she swore she was seeing Eddie looking at her.  He cupped her face between his hands and he said to her, “your brother is outside willing and ready to help you.”

(Y/n)’s lip trembled as tears poured down her face and she fell to her knees as she wept hysterically.

“Harrington!” Eddie called out and soon enough Steve came in and immediately he knelt down beside (Y/n) and held her in his arms.  Even as she felt him drenched from the rain, (Y/n) gripped onto her twin brother as tightly as she could all the while weeping out Eddie’s name.  As Steve rocked his little sister back and forth, he looked up at Eddie in sorrow but also gratitude while Eddie looked down at the sibling solemnly.

Eventually (Y/n) passed out from her hysterical sobbing.

Steve had taken his sister to the hospital to help get whatever else could’ve been in her system and she ended up sleeping all throughout the night, all throughout the rest of the next day up until it was nearly sunset.  She stirred away to hear machines beeping and the sound of voices speaking over intercoms.

She looked over and saw Steve along with Dustin talking with one another in a hushed manner.  When Steve noticed (Y/n) waking up, he came over to her saying.

“Sleeping beauty awakes. You okay?”

“A bit.” She said groggily.  “Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital. Had to bring you here to get all that crap out of your body.” (Y/n) leaned up against her pillow shamefully.

“I am so, so sorry Steve. I am so sorry and ashamed of what I did. I know it doesn’t excuse me for my behavior, and I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I…..” Steve stopped her heartbroken confession by hugging his sister as tightly as he could.  “How can you forgive me so easily? I thought you’d never wanted to speak to me again?”

“I was never angry with you for turning to the drugs. I was upset because I was afraid you were losing your way.”

“I did lose my way Steve.”

“But you found it again. And I swear, I’m gonna be there for you every step of the way. No matter what it takes to help you get back on your feet.” The Harrington siblings smiled at each other softly as they embraced one another as (Y/n) said.

“Thank you Steve. You really are the best big brother.” After a few visits from the kids, as well as the older members of Hellfire, (Y/n) would soon be on her way to recovery.  After speaking with her doctor, he prescribed that she would need to go up to Indianapolis to their rehab center where she would get the coaching and help that I needed.

She and Steve signed a few forms and it was settled that after a couple of more days here for observation, she would take the first bus up to the capital for her rehab treatment.

Later that night as the hospital had closed down their offices to visitors and the night shift staff were doing their rounds.  (Y/n) lay there on her bed watching the Golden girls on the tv.  She was just about to fall asleep when she felt a cold brush of wind blow across her cheek, she turned and there she saw Eddie’s silhouette appearing from her window until he finally made himself known to her.

“Hello milady.” He greeted her with a warm smile and a gentleman’s bow.

“Eddie?” she softly whispered as her heart meter began to spike.  Eddie raised a finger to his lips softly shushing her as he walked up to her.

“Guess when you say your heartbeats faster everytime I’m in the room, you’re not lying. But it’s best we don’t alert the staff about my presence sweetheart.” He stood at the foot of her bed.

“Is it…..is it really you? Were you there that night? Or am I going crazy again from the drugs?”

“It’s not the after effects of the drugs, nor is this a trick from Vecna. I am here sweetheart.”

“I…….” (Y/n) was speechless.  “I’ve thought over a million, trillion things to say when I’d—” her breathing was shaky as she gasped softly, “How?”

“I had a mission to help three grieving souls who needed my words of wisdom. And you were the last one that needed saving.”

“So you’re…..you’re leaving again?” she asked sadly.

“Sweetheart I’ve heard and now seen just how my death has affected you. But there’s something you must understand. The Eddie Munson you once knew and loved has become someone entirely new. And I can’t let him near you until I’ve figured him out for myself.”

“But I…..I just got you back. Eddie I…..I see it happen every night when I sleep, and everytime when thunder rumbles, I’m back down there with you. Seeing those things rip you apart, not able to free myself or save you. Why must you leave me again?”

Eddie walked closer to her and hovered his upperbody over hers.  He leaned towards her left ear and whispered to her.

“This belongs to you, and always will.” He came back up, cupped the left side of her face.  His dark brown eyes staring down at hers as he leaned in closer to her face and captured her lips with his in a soft, hidden kiss.  (Y/n) raised her hand up and stroked along Eddie’s face with the back of her hand and buried her hand underneath his curls.

As the clock by her bed chimed midnight, Eddie separated from the kiss and took her hand into his.

“Where can I find you again?”

“You know that place between sleep and awake? That place where you still remember dreaming?” he asked her.  She softly nodded, “That’s where I will always love you. That’s where I’ll be waiting.” He told her in a soft, loving manner.  His eyes soon glowed red as he told her, “Sleep now meleth nin, sleep.” A feeling of exhaustion came over her as she soon fell asleep.  “Sleep until dawn.”

Eddie placed into her hands her necklace he had taken from her room and rested her hands over her chest.  He gave her one last look, almost as if he were taking a mental picture to keep forever in his mind before he forced himself away from her bedside and with the last chime of the clock, and a wave of the curtain, Eddie Munson disappeared from the hospital.

[everlasting-rainfall]

Hi again👋🥰 I'm the one who sent Figarland Garling's request for PAGES AU and after Reading your Headcanons about the Figarland Family I came up with another idea for our dear Red Crescent 🌛❤️ Like what if the reader was sentenced to death for some reason (perhaps she was an escaped slave or a member of the revolutionaries) She proposed a duel to escape the execution, and of course she lost, but somehow it aroused Garling's interest, and he decided that instead of completing the execution, she now belonged to him alone, and no one could look or talk to her except him I bet his superiority complex will make him see his girlfriend as a perfect goddess whose attention no one deserves but him (I really don't mind if he decides to kidnap me or protest at his house. I will actually tie myself up and hand him over and I might turn into a simp or bimbo for him 🤤🤤)

I hope things get better and you are well 💋 (no matter what problems you are facing)

Hey! Sorry that it took me so long to get to this as like I’ve said, I’ve been dealing with some personal issues that I’d rather not go into detail about but I’m working on it now and I sincerely hope that you enjoy this!

Here’s hoping that I hear more from you in the future so before I get too distracted, let’s get right into it!

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

Celestial Dragon Bullshit, Slavery, Execution, Violence, Isolation, Implied Noncon, Delusions, Kidnapping

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

Also Keep in Mind that I do not support or condone the actions of any Celestial Dragon, they are disgusting creatures who are barely even human and don’t deserve the time of day

So as you said, you are someone whose about to be judged and executed but of course there needs to be a reason so let’s imagine that you were like someone who had ties to the revolutionary army like you weren’t a full on revolutionary yourself but you did provide aid to them

Now of course, this is dangerous like in the eyes of the world government. You might as well have just stepped all over their flag and let’s say that you got into some serious trouble as a result of this, you were originally going to be killed outright but lucky you! Or rather unlucky you in a bad way, a celestial dragon just so happened to spot you and what do you know? You’re kinda cute… 🤢

Narrowly escaping execution, you’re now a slave to a random ass celestial dragon which in all honesty? Probably way better to have been killed in all honesty as bitchass celestial dragon gonna be a bitchass celestial dragon and they’re awful to you

You’re moreso treated like some kind of doll or pet to be commanded than an actual person like legitimately, they’ve tried to show you off to fellow dragons like you’re some kind of cool toy they got, not even a trophy

Anyways with the constant dealing with the bitchass celestial dragon who has you like the daily abuse and the fact that they never see you as human like legitimately they probably see an actual bug as more human, something was bound to happen

And suddenly you’re on trial for trying to kill the person who was your “master”, whether you succeeded or just severely injured the fucker is completely up to you but either way. Let’s say you practically butchered the fucker

As you’re standing there before the judge, the red haired man reads off the crimes that you committed and the evidence against you is damning to the point where it’s clear the death sentence is coming

You can’t let this be where you perish though so just before Garling sentences you to a very painful execution befitting of someone like you (His words, not mine), you interrupt him much to the pearl clutching gasps of the dragons and shout out that you want to duel

Duel for your freedom against Figarland Garling himself? It sounds absolutely crazy but he’s clearly interested so he rises from his chair and tells you the rules that if you can beat him then you go free but if he wins then the sentence continues

No sort of armor is provided to you but luckily, you’re at least given a weapon although it’s not one of your choosing and he doesn’t seem to be wearing armor either so maybe you can do this?

The duel is begun via a starting pistol from one of the holy knights and you barely have enough time to dodge Garling’s first strike as he moves so fast that it’s terrifying

While you’re scrambling to get to a safe distance away, Garling is pleasantly surprised as not many dodge his first strike but no matter. Probably an accident so he strikes again and wouldn’t you know it? Another narrow dodge!

Man’s honestly starting to have fun as you can’t hit him and your attacks can’t even be called attacks so much as they’re desperate swings of a weapon but somehow, you’re dodging his attacks quite well (although they’re all just based on luck) and by the time that the duel has finally ended

You’re lying on the ground with a deep slash across your chest and his sword in your face, you’ve lost but Garling doesn’t intend to get rid of you as you’re quite interesting. Not only did you dodge his attacks but with those dodges, you became the person whose last against him the longest

Honestly you’re too good to execute so once he’s declared the winner and the applause has died down, he sheaths his sword and reads out your sentence as it’s no longer death but you will be taken to his home and serve him

Some dragons probably are murmuring as what is he thinking? But Garling doesn’t care as he demands you to be taken away and have your wounds treated, there’s a little bit of hesitation but soon you find yourself passing out as you’re carried off

When you wake up, you’re now living in Garling’s home as one of his servants which is probably like a “God fucking dammit” moment for you but oddly enough. Garling doesn’t treat you as poorly as the other guy did

Like yes, you are still a servant but Garling never really has much for you to do for him and most of the time. He simply wants to speak with you as you work on whatever small thing that he’s making you do or have you accompany him on a walk around the property

It’s so weird to you especially as you’ve never seen another servant around Garling’s home like you’re aware that they exist but you’ve never seen them and when you decide to ask him? He tells you that when you’re stuck in your quarters is when they’re in the house

You might try to ask why you’re not out then as you’re just like them but he’d more than likely tell you to not compare yourself to them, it’s so weird

Part of you thinks that Garling simply keeps you in this position because he wants to be able to show you and specifically you off like you’re a toy or trophy later but when the day does come that he meets up with other nobles, he goes alone like he doesn’t even indicate that he wants to bring you with him

So you aren’t being treated different for the purpose of being shown off but could it possibly be for then?

It seems like the answer comes when he wants to take you to meet the guard dogs one day, those giant Tibetan Mastiff’s that you’ve heard about having ripped any intruder or enemy to shreds if they so much as feel like the Figarland Family is threatened

Maybe you were being well cared for so you could be fed to them? Possibly… But that answer quickly dies when you’re taken to them only to not be fed to them but to be introduced to them as Garling makes you hold out your hand to be sniffed by them

Honestly the worst thing that they all do is lick your hand once, the Pomeranian Leader of the Guard Dogs doesn’t even touch you and simply yips at you like some kind of greeting

After this, Garling’s odd behavior is taken up a few notches as he barely asks you to do anything for him now and rarely gets mad at you like seriously… You once broke a vase just to see how he would react and he simply told you to be more careful… He didn’t even tell you to clean it up when he’s told you that he’s made other servants clean up broken objects only to execute them afterwards…

When the day comes that Garling starts to buy you outfits and refer to you as “Dearest one” and “Star” alongside touch you just a little bit too long, that’s when you start to realize what might be happening as he appears to be trying to ease you into a life as his partner

It all makes sense now to you… This is the only reason that he would be treating you differently…

You need to get out of here…

Avoiding Garling while you make a plan of escape isn’t easy as this man can read you like a book and it’s not like you can just stay in your room all day as the man will come and let himself in when he lets you out of your quarters

It takes such a long time of careful planning and on a night where he told you that starting tomorrow night, you would be sharing beds with him. You put your plan into action as you left your room and walked silently through the halls once you were sure that he went to sleep

You snuck outside and only made it halfway across the property before the loud howls of the guard dogs started to ring out, you started to slap yourself internally as you didn’t account for the possibility that he would get up to check on you or to make it so that you would start sharing beds that night

Running across the property hoping to find a wall that you could vault yourself over or an exit that you could rush through and escape the red haired man through was pointless as within minutes, you had the guard dogs rushing at you from the darkness

Their teeth sunk into your ankles causing you to scream as you were dragged back to the main house where Garling is waiting for you dressed in his pajamas sitting in a chair looking less than pleased

It kind of feels like you’re back at what was supposed to be your execution in all honesty and when Garling speaks, his voice is cold to the point where it sends a chill down your spine like you’ve seen the reaper in the flesh

He’s angry and he demands to know why you’ve run away from him after all that he’s done for you and when you hesitate to speak, he impatiently slams his fist against the arm of the chair and commands you to respond

“I… I just want to go home! I want to go home and forget about all of this! I want to go back to my old life!”

“Why on earth would you want something like that? I can make you so much more happier here with me… I can make all of your troubles go away if you’d just embrace me instead of leaning away…”

“Please… You’ve done so many nice things for me but I don’t want this… I want my life back, I want to live in my old town with all the people…”

“You want them instead of me? When they don’t even deserve to lay eyes on you, let alone stand in your presence? Disgusting… Don’t you realize how perfect you are?”

It’s after this that Garling winds up going into a long speech about how you’re some kind of goddess and beautiful thing that no one deserves to lay eyes on except him, you are the most beautiful thing that he has ever seen and clearly he must keep you away from those who are unworthy

The entire thing freaks you out so much more than the thought of him killing you does especially when he starts to talk about the life that he has all planned out for the two of you that apparently he’s been planning since the very moment that you somehow managed to last as long against him as you did back at your execution

Which now in hindsight to him was just an awful, awful thing that never should have happened as clearly the bastard who you attacked had it coming but not because he was a Disgusting Celestial Dragon but because he kept you from meeting him

He pulls you into his lap at some point during this and although you try to struggle briefly against him, you know that there’s no escape when you hear a low growl from the guard dogs that threatens you to try to run and Garling’s arms tighten around you in his embrace

Once you’re in his arms, he tells you about his desire to come home to you after a long day, he would find you untainted by the gaze of those who are unworthy and you would greet him with a beaming smile

Your outfit would look absolutely lovely on you and hug you in all the right places to show off every inch of your perfect body no matter what sort of body type you may have, he would approach and you would welcome him home with a kiss as he caressed you

The two of you would enjoy your dinner together and retire to your bedroom for the night where he would slip your outfit from your shoulders and make love to you as you moaned out his name and begged for him to impregnate you

Garling almost looks happy as he describes all of this like it’s his dream come true that he’s telling you about, he looks into your scared eyes and chuckles just a little

He pulls you ever so closer to him to where you can feel his nice smelling breath fanning across your face…

“You look so scared, darling… But don’t be afraid and don’t run either… I’d find you anywhere that you ran from me and drag you home even if a million eyes had been laid upon you… This is where you belong now…”

“I…”

“Shhhh… No need for words… Just lean into me and allow me to bind us together…”

And with that, Garling leaned in and pressed his lips onto yours in a kiss that felt as cold as ice… You wanted to run, you wanted to scream and push him away, you wanted to get far away from here…

But none of that was going to happen and as you felt one of his hands starting to slip underneath your clothing…

You knew that you weren’t going anywhere…

[luminouslywriting]

Chapter 28 (Mastermind)—MOTA Fic

A/N/Trigger Warnings: This chapter is heavier than usual and depicts some of the events found in episode 9 of Band of Brothers. Please be cautious if you choose to read about these events.

“How could you possibly be so stupid as to be a stone in our shoe now?” Lewis Nixon looked less than enthused about the sudden reappearance of one JAG-Corp lawyer Ruth Sharpe.  In fact, she was entirely sure that the foul mood he had already been in (she had read enough of Dick’s letters to know that Lew’s mood was getting worse) had probably been compounded by her sudden appearance. 

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Ruth retorted, crossing her arms and glaring at him.  “I made it this far just fine on my own with like—two guards getting me here.” 

“Here is Germany, you dumbass.” 

“Wow, really?  I didn’t know,” Ruth replied dryly.  “Is there a war on, too?” 

“Damn it, Ruth!” Nixon pinched the bridge of his nose.  “You are gonna get yourself killed and then I’m just gonna be eternally guilty of that.” 

“No, I’ll be eternally guilty of getting myself killed.” 

“You’re the worst.” 

“You missed me.” 

“You didn’t tell Dick,” Nixon pointed out in a whiny tone.  “You think showing up now—when we’re so close to winning this thing—he’s gonna be happy to see you?” 

“Well no, but I’m not doing it to make people happy.” 

“You’re here to….to do what exactly?  Record war crimes?” Nixon mumbled out in annoyance. 

“Officially, yes.  Off the books…I’m here to get my kid brother.  His plane went down somewhere near Berlin and I think he got taken by the Germans.” 

All at once, Nixon’s features seemed to shift.  He stared at the ground for a long moment, a frown growing on his face.  “You know the likelihood—” 

“I know the probability.  And it doesn’t matter.  I’m here now and I’m bringing him home,” Ruth insisted.  “And I’m not stepping foot off of this damned continent until I have him.” 

Nixon just gave a heavy sigh and then straightened up.  “Alright, fine.  But you’re explaining this all to Dick.” 

“I figured as much.” 

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

Also true to her predictions, while most of the men in Easy Company were glad to have a familiar face and one as kind as hers around, neither Dick nor Nixon was happy about her putting herself in danger by being on the front.  Dick seemed to buy her excuse about war crimes more than Nixon did and the matter was settled definitively by Sink expressing that they had needed a member of JAG-Corp out there for quite a while anyways. 

In two days, Ruth was due to meet up with another company that was headed towards the Stalag and that’s where her path with Easy Company would yet again diverge.  But for the time being and as they traveled through Germany, Ruth was happy to be stuck with a group of men that she believed to be the best of the best.  They were honorable and good and brave—what more could she really ask for?

Though she didn’t particularly agree with taking over a civilian home and literally kicking a family out of the house, Ruth was glad to be somewhere closer to where she needed to be.  Every step mattered and counted, after all. 

Ruth sucked in a breath of smoke, pouring over her notebooks of evidence that she had been collecting throughout the whole war.  If nothing else, she was going to have one hell of a portfolio of convincing evidence to get these Nazis put on Death Row.  The cigarette in her hand was almost out and Ruth honestly didn’t know how long she’d been sitting in the silence of this room. 

“You smoke a lot more now.” 

At that, she glanced over.  Ruth wasn’t surprised to find Dick Winters standing in the doorway of the room, expression almost unreadable as he watched her.  “I’m a lot more stressed out now than I used to be, to be fair.” 

“I guess that is fair,” Dick said quietly. 

Ruth pressed the cigarette out and then gestured at the seat beside her.  “You can sit. I’d say it’s a free country but we both know that would be a lie.” 

A wry smile crossed Dick’s features as he sat down beside her.  For a moment, neither of them spoke.  The simple fact of the matter was that there was a whole lot of history between the two of them and it just sat there in the space between—waiting to be addressed, waiting to even be mentioned or felt.  

“No word on your brother yet?” 

“Not yet,” Ruth said quietly.  “I’ve just got this…feeling—I can’t explain it.  I just know he’s out there and waiting for me.” 

“Then he is.” 

“That’s a lot of faith from the supposed Mennonite.” 

Dick just rolled his eyes. “You know I’m not a Mennonite.” 

“I know.  But you’ve got faith I envy sometimes,” Ruth admitted, fiddling with her fingers as she sat there.  “And I really do mean it when I say thank you.  I just—I can’t leave him out here on his own.  He’s just a kid.” 

“You always put yourself in a position to help more people.  There’s nothing selfish about what you do.” 

“I wonder where I learned that,” Ruth flashed a genuine smile in his direction.  “I think that you might be the best person I’ve ever known.  And when this thing is all over, I really hope that you find happiness, Dick.” 

“You know,” Dick said slowly, eyes seeming to peer straight into her soul.  “I hope that when you find this other guy that you’re failing to mention—that you tell him you love him.” 

“I—” 

“You forget that I know you better than most, Ruth.  I’m happy for you.  I just hope it all works out. 

“Yeah me too.” 

“Well I’m headed to grab some lunch and make sure Lew hasn’t drowned himself.  Do you want to come?” 

“Absolutely,” Ruth let out a breath of relief at the changing of topics.  The reality of her feelings and emotions was just too much for her to take at the moment.  And she knew that the faster they got off the topic, the faster the both of them would feel better.  

She had never meant to break his heart and she absolutely meant that.  And as they began walking from the building, Ruth knew that Robby had been right.  She had loved Dick Winters—and it was a whole lifetime ago and it was far too late to mend that.  But she was done running from love.  She had been given a chance with Robby and she was not going to waste it. 

Before they had even made it three steps out of the building though—someone was running up to them and breathless.  Something was wrong.  Both she and Dick felt it within their bones.  

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

The second that their cars came into view of the camp, Ruth knew.  She knew the simple and horrific truth of the matter without even having to fully look.  Because Liesel had told her—hadn’t she?  That they had been rounding people up?  That they had been killing them by the thousands? 

There was a reason why Liesel awoke gasping for air most nights and unable to find peace or even solace.  And this was the exact reason why. 

Ruth couldn’t help the fact that a gasp tore from her lips at the sight of the people at the gates.  Her hand immediately clutched onto Lewis Nixon, also sitting in the back of the car, like he was a damn lifeline.  Surely, none of this could be real.  Surely, this was not the end of humanity like they were seeing in front of them—

But even as Ruth exited the car, everything in her was screaming to run the other way.  This is what Liesel had escaped from.  This was the fate of every person in her mother and father’s family and Ruth viscerally felt it within her chest.  It was knotting her lungs up and stealing away her breath.  

God, if they had discovered Abe was underage in any way they would’ve either killed him or sent him to a place like this. 

She had come to the front-lines to find her brother and to find Robby.  But she had found the worst of humanity’s crimes.  She needed her notebook, needed her pen—needed to record what these people had gone through, needed to get this to someone higher than Sink and higher than General Spaatz.  This needed to go straight to the president or Churchill or—

Her mind raced as the gates unlocked and then someone was gently pulling on her elbow.  Ruth glanced up, almost unable to tear her gaze away from the figures before her.  Dick was standing there, a concerned look on his face.  “Stay close, alright?” 

Finding no words to agree, she just gave a nod.  These people were starving and beaten and nearly destroyed.  “Dick—” 

“You speak German, right?” 

“A little,” came her timid reply.  Ruth couldn’t find it in her to be the bold or brave lawyer that she had been even a week ago when she had demanded and bullied her way onto the front-lines.  She was utterly speechless and didn’t know what to say or what to do about any of what they were witnessing. 

A few moments later, Liebgott joined them up front to help communicate.  More and more just seemed to be pouring out of the huts.  How many people had been trapped here?  How many had died here?  

Communication was slow.  “The guards left this morning,” Liebgott translated.  “They burned some of the huts first….with the prisoners still in them, sir.  Alive.” 

Ruth was only half-listening.  Her gaze had been wandering around the camp as the men were speaking.  But someone had caught her eye—someone who was staring at her intently.  She wondered if it was because she was a woman.  How long had it been since they had last seen a woman?

Retrieving her water from her pack, Ruth crossed over to the man.  He was a gaunt figure, hunched and tired, with a darkness under his eyes.  Just as she offered the water, the man’s face seemed to brighten.  

“American?” His English was surprisingly good—with only a slight accent that deterred her.  

“Yes.  You speak English?” 

“Rutha, I’m offended you don’t recognize me without my hair or pot-belly.  I know it’s not Passover but you are the last person I was expecting to see here.” 

The minute that he had said Rutha, she had known.  Known exactly who this was.  

And all at once, Ruth’s heart shattered.  Because those eyes.  Those familiar dark eyes—she had grown up seeing them at every Passover, at every Bar and Bat Mitzvah—it was her uncle Yosef—her father’s brother.  It was him alright—indeed missing the pot-belly and his dark beard and long hair.  But it was him.  

“Uncle Yosef?” Ruth’s voice cracked out the words.  Her heart felt as though a light were beaming straight through.  

Yosef practically collapsed into her arms and Ruth let out a choked sound of surprise and utter joy.  How—how had she found him?  After all of these years of no communication—and she went to the front to find Abe and Robby, not to find her other family members.  But here he was, directly put into her path.  

“Hey, Ruth—” Nixon’s voice flooded her ears. He looked concerned and wary at the fact that she was embracing and holding one of the men but Ruth could not be deterred. 

She pulled away from the hug, hands going straight to Yosef’s face.  “You got skinny, Uncle Sef.” 

“You are still bossy.” 

At that, Ruth gave a slight laugh through her tears.  “I can’t believe you’re here.” 

“Me?  You are supposed to be big-shot lawyer in New York!” 

“Holy shit,” Nixon breathed out the words, glancing between the two of them. “Is this—” 

“My father’s brother,” Ruth explained.  “But if you’re here—” 

“Magda was at the next camp.” 

Ruth felt the horror in her body rise again.  She glanced over at Nixon, who was stricken as he stood there.  “Other camp?” Nixon breathed out. 

“The women and children were sent to the next camp at the next railroad station.  Just down the road,” Yosef said.  “We have to go—” 

“You need rest,” Ruth immediately snapped back to being in charge.  “You need food, water, and sleep.  I will go.” 

“But—” 

“I will find Aunt Magda, I promise,” Ruth looked over at Nixon.  “Can you please take care of him?” 

Nixon just gave a breathless nod.  “Sure thing.” 

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

If Ruth thought that she was in any way prepared for what she would find at the next station, she was sadly mistaken.  She had managed to keep the bile down—barely able to form words at the sight of the women in the camps.  They were even weaker and smaller than the men had been and it made her want to weep. 

She had dragged along a few of the men to help her try to alleviate the suffering.  Among them was Speirs, Webster, Lipton, and Chuck Grant.  At the sight of the men, the women had cowered in fear and Ruth had removed her helmet as quickly as possible.  Between her broken German and Webster’s translation, there was a small modicum of order that was being made. 

But when one of the women started pulling on her arm and Ruth saw the bones of children, Ruth could not contain the sickness that was in her.  She promptly threw up, unable to even form a single coherent thought. 

Father, make it all stop.  Just take them all away from this. 

And through the relief efforts, through the blankets, through the broken communication, Ruth’s gaze was scanning the crowd for Magda Sharff.  She inquired and asked about her aunt—a seamstress—in the best of terms that she could muster. Finally, one of the women approached her. 

In very broken terms through Webster—Ruth found out that Magda was long gone.  She had been in one of the huts that had been burned back when they started trying to get rid of them all.  There would be nothing left of Magda to find.  

Something in Ruth’s chest died right then and there.  How was she supposed to go back to her Uncle Yosef and explain that his wife was dead?  That she had been alive two days prior but she was now gone?   There was nothing that was going to make that any better.  There was nothing that could possibly comfort him in this dark time. 

“It’s getting late.  The sun will be gone soon,” Speirs murmured to her.  “We need to head back.” 

Ruth just gave a nod.  “Of course.” 

And as they were leaving and the crowd of women was trying to cling to them—begging them to stay, to not leave them there—it was sheer chaos.  And amidst that chaos was the other shining light that Ruth was unaware of. 

Someone was screaming as loud as they could and it sounded vaguely like her name.  “Is—” Ruth glanced over at the men from Easy Company.  “Is someone calling me?” 

“RUTH!  RUTH!  RUTH SHARPE!” 

Somehow, in the midst of the crowd, Ruth had caught sight of someone she had been certain was dead.  A gasp tore from her lips and Ruth began moving through the crowd before any of the men could stop her.  “Sveta!  SVETA!” 

And when the two women collided in a heap of limbs and tears and hugs, no one quite knew what to make of it.  But right in front of Ruth was Sveta Braun—Liesel’s older sister.  Ruth couldn’t find the strength in her body to get off of the ground as Sveta clung to her, weeping at the sight of her cousin. 

“You’re here—” Sveta choked out the words. 

“Liesel’s in England!” Ruth burst the words out. 

Sveta stopped in her tracks, tears spilling from her eyes as she shook.  “Liesel—Liesel’s dead—” 

“No!  No she’s not.  She made it to England!  I’ve been taking care of her for the past year.  Your sister is alive.” 

And as Ruth sat there, on the ground of a camp, in the midst of other women who were reverently watching the interaction, she knew that miracles did, in fact, happen.  And now she needed one for Abe and Robby.