#and two jesse fics

[heartpascal]

joel’s place

▹— joel miller x platonic!reader, hints of jesse x reader

▹— summary: you visit the cemetery

▹— a/n: this is inspired by the song robert’s place, simon robert french. i think it fits the situation perfectly :( — also i wrote this over many months so it may read a bit inconsistent, sorry! it also isn’t proofread, and by the end might’ve turned into just a string of consciousness idk

▹— warnings: major character death, grief and all that follows, mentions of scars & previous injuries, TLOU 2 SPOILERS, once again MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS, lots of angst, talk of canon typical violence, abby mentioned, ellie and dina mentioned, also can be read as platonic for jesse i think, long lasting injury effects (please add if there’s more! i’m rusty)

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything!) @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915  @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @rvjaa  @sunflowersdrop @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @miss-celestial-being @hqkon (pedro!)

MASTERLIST if you can click on my masterlist, you can also do your daily clicks!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Eventually, the snow bled into summer.

Time tumbled and warped, moved on, the world spinning, seasons changing and months passing by like nothing had ever happened. Sometimes, when you wake up, the sun shining in your eyes from a gap between curtains, the world feeling warm, you could pretend that nothing had. That the world was as it had once been.

And in the moments of waking, that’s easy. It’s second nature to slip into the past, into better times, where autumn fell and so did you. Where everything felt right in the world.

That, unsurprisingly, didn’t last very long.

But still.

You’re here, your house in Jackson unchanged, despite the year passing by unrelentingly. The only difference being the bloom of flowers at your doorstep, colours bright in the warm sun.

And you, of course.

If you’re honest, it’s probably you that changed the most.

With scars in new places, still aching with a pain that you were certain would never go away. Hair cut shorter, choppier, done by you in the middle of the night some time in the spring. Then there’s the shakiness to your hands, the tremors that linger despite the warmth. A slight limp when you would inevitably tread wrong on your ankle. And a new age to your face, a new hardship reflected in the bags that continue to weigh you down, after all this time.

You’re not sure that the people who were lost that winter would recognise you, had they been here now. There was a whole new air about you, too, lingering in every space you stepped into.

But still. You try not to think too much about it.

Instead, you gather a handful of flowers from your doorstep, bunched together into a makeshift bouquet that you tie with twine. The remaining blooms get a splash of water before you’re setting off from your house, stepping on soft grass until you reach the road.

From there, you wander along the path you know so well, that you have walked so many times. Gravel crunches underneath your soles with every step, unearthing the split second longer it takes for you to put weight on your ankle. It still hurts, but you don’t mind so much anymore. It allows some of your pain to be physical, rather than emotional. It’s a small mercy, really.

People used to call out to you when you walked this route, but they know better now, and don’t bother you when you carry flowers. That, you think, is a small mercy, too.

If you were to glance to your left, you’d see his house. Instead, you focus on your feet, ensuring you don’t roll your ankle again. As much as you try, you can’t accept that there’s someone other than him living there now. You don’t want to see his name pried off of the mailbox, Miller outlined from the five years that the sun bleached the uncovered wood around it.

You like to think that he’s still in there, somewhere, just down the hall. So long as you don’t look, Joel lives on in that house.

You could almost pretend that you weren’t going to his new home. His final home. His resting place, Tommy had called it once. But if you knew anything about Joel, you knew that the man couldn’t rest, not even in Jackson. Not fully. You’ve resigned to calling it Joel’s place.

It comes into view quickly, a mere stone’s throw from his house, and like every other time, you feel dread.

A wave of it crashes over you, leaving you gaping for air. It sinks down your throat and fills your lungs, your stomach, your very being. It’s an all consuming thing. You know his name is going to be carved upon a stone, instead of the mailbox where it should be, and every time you come here, it shatters the illusion. Each time, you have to pick up the pieces, and painstakingly put it back together again.

The flowers sit nicely, giving his place a burst of colour. It makes that pit in your throat open up again, and threaten to swallow your tongue. You know Joel wasn’t really a flower guy, but there’s not much else you can do. If he was here, you’d give him the bag of coffee that still sat useless in your cupboard. But he’s not.

“Hi,” You say into the still air, because you still can’t bring yourself to say his name here. There’s a part of you that refuses to believe it’s him, even after all this time. You practically fall to the floor as you lower yourself, and huff at the inconvenience your old injury still caused you. “It’s been a while.”

And it’s true — it’s been long enough that Zahir, the man who took care of the graves on a more regular basis, had removed the flowers from the last visit. They must have died quickly, which you found to be quite ironic. Still, you hoped these ones lasted longer.

“Dina’s going to have her baby in a few weeks, we reckon. She said that if it’s a girl, she’ll name her Talia. But if it’s a boy…” You smile faintly, just imagining what Joel would look like if he was truly here. “She said JJ. Jesse-Joel. I hope it’s a boy, if I’m honest. I think he’d have Jesse’s smile.”

A breeze shifts the air around you, and you fidget with the tongue of your shoe for a moment.

“Her and Ellie are still living up at that farm, with a whole bunch of sheep. It’s not far, but I don’t see them too often. Ellie doesn’t really show her face around here, much. I think she avoids it because of Tommy, and Jesse’s parents. I don’t blame her.” You continue, breathing in the warm air and hoping it’ll soothe some of the pain in your chest. “Jesse’s parents have tried to visit me, a few times. You would think I’m so stupid for avoiding them like this, I just know it.”

You swallow roughly, trying to push down the lump in your throat. More than anything, you just wish that he could answer you, wish that he could confirm your suspicions on what he would think.

“It’s just… it’s been hard, here. Since we got back. Everything just feels so different.” You scoffed. “Probably because everything is different. You should see Mike and Astrid trying to lead the patrols. Without you and Jesse…” You shook your head, trailing off.

The breeze shook some leaves free from their branches, and sent them swirling down to the ground, where Zahir would sweep them away later. You liked the man. He had been kind and respectful every time you had seen him here, and you appreciated how much care he put into the upkeep of graves of people he hadn’t even known.

Sometimes when you were here, it felt like you were the only person in the world. As if when Joel died, everybody else died with him. And in some ways, you think that might be true. Jesse died right after him, and Tommy was almost right behind him. And Ellie… she lost a part of herself in that basement. After Seattle, you were surprised there was anything left of her.

It was why you always felt relieved when Zahir showed up. He allowed you to realise that there were still people around you, that not everybody was buried with Joel. Zahir reminded you that other people were grieving, too. It helped to know that you weren’t actually alone in this experience, even if it felt like it.

You wanted to tell him how much you missed the two of them, how your life felt incomplete without them in it. You wanted to let the words fall from your mouth, wanted to observe as the breeze caught them and swept them away to somewhere that Joel just might have heard them. But you already felt silly, doing this. Speaking to him, knowing that he couldn’t hear a word of it.

What else could you do, though? Where else were you meant to put all of these unrelenting thoughts? What else could you do with the grief that threatened to bury you right beside the people you missed most?

“So much has changed here. It doesn’t feel like home, the way it used to.” You admitted to the open air, trying not to let regret or embarrassment consume you. The breeze could be comforting, if you allowed it to be.

It’s been a long time since you’ve allowed yourself to be comforted. Maybe too long.

All you can think is haven’t you suffered enough? Do you have to continue the seemingly endless cycle of pain that you have been trapped in for years? Shouldn’t you, after everything, be allowed some comfort?

“If I’m honest, I don’t think it’ll ever feel like home again. Not really. I guess that’s why Ellie doesn’t really visit.” You said, listening to the rustle of leaves, watching the petals on the flowers you’d brought shift. You believe it, too. You believe that Ellie refuses to visit because Jackson has lost its spark. Its livelihood. That, and you’re pretty sure she can’t bring herself to visit Joel’s place, or Jesse’s.

You don’t blame her. It had been one of the hardest things you’d ever done, coming here after returning from Seattle. You felt like some sort of sorry animal, failing to come home with the prey it was supposed to. Despite your best efforts, your jaws remained empty of prey. Your hunt had failed, had turned sideways, had left you feeling more sorrow than before.

How could you come here knowing that Abby was still alive out there? Knowing that, while Joel had been rotting underground, she had a life.

It had taken you a long time to accept that fact. To let it go.

Ellie was still holding on.

You suppose that you have always been better at knowing what went through Joel’s head. At rationalising things. You knew that going after her was never what Joel would’ve wanted for the two of you. But Ellie had always struggled with seeing his point of view. With seeing anyone’s perspective but her own, really. She could never understand Abby, just like she had never understood Joel after what he did to the Fireflies.

Joel would want the two of you here, not on some cross country journey for revenge. And you understand why — because that trip had caused you even more loss. It hadn’t fixed a thing, and at the end of it all, Abby was still alive.

Going after her wasn’t worth Jesse’s life.

If you had known the cost of that journey before you had left Jackson in search of it, you don’t think you would’ve gone. Not if it meant losing him, too.

A glance across the cemetery had your eyes locking onto another familiar headstone. It was still hard for you to face that one, knowing that you were the direct cause of Jesse’s death. Would he had left the safety of Jackson, if you hadn’t joined Ellie on her quest for vengeance? Would Abby have felt the need to defend herself, the kid with her, if you and Ellie hadn’t been so intent on killing her?

One of the worst parts about his death is that you could understand. Had you, Ellie and Joel not killed many people, defending those you cared about? Hell, hadn’t you killed WLFs to protect Jesse? You’d caused people this loss, too. Perhaps his death was just karma, finally catching up to you. But to reduce Jesse to that felt… wrong. He was more than that. So much more.

He should’ve been here. At your side, grieving Joel right alongside you.

Had you chosen to just grieve, rather than avenge, you wouldn’t have to do it all alone. If you had remained in Jackson while Tommy, Ellie and Dina left, you could’ve asked Jesse to stay. You’re almost confident that he would have.

But then you would’ve lost the others, too.

Either way, Jackson would’ve lost its spark of life.

“I think that, maybe, you guys were my home. And that’s why it feels like this.” You look away from the stone with Jesse’s name carved upon it. Admitting it just makes it feel more real, and you know that you will never feel at home again. Not like you did with them.

Your eyes water before you can do anything about it, trailing saltwater down your cheek. It crawls across the scar underneath your eye, and you feel the phantom pain of Abby’s fists upon your face once more. Everything in you aches, particles of loss and decay floating through your veins until it feels like it’s all you are.

But it’s not.

There’s still life within you, waiting to be let out.

Joel and Jesse don’t have that luxury. Which is why you feel like you have to honour them, like you have to actually live, instead of sitting here, wallowing in the pain of it all.

“I miss you.”

The wind brushes against your hair, your face.

“I’ll come back soon,” You promise, resting your palms against the ground to help you stand without aggravating your injury. “Maybe next time I’ll bring your guitar, show you what I’ve learned since we lost you.”

There’s a lump in your throat, and you can’t seem to swallow it. Your goodbye can’t get past it, and you know it will only worsen if you go across to Jesse’s place. You turn, swearing that you will have something more hopeful to tell the open air next time you come.

[boywifesammy]

sam winchester would NOT have a binder… he binds with ace bandages and packs with socks 👍

[pawnshopbleus]

These Are the Days Six - Friends

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader High School AU

For the summary, warnings, and more please visit here.

Previous Chapter.

Rain in California was scarce. No matter how much you prayed for the water droplets to fall from the sky, your prayers were never answered. In Washington, the rain never stopped. 

The grey clouds should have been a sign that it would rain, but you weren’t looking at the sky. The whiteboard in front of you displayed some boring war movie. One thing about Mr. Miller is that he thinks a movie will help the class more than a textbook ever could. Last week, he had you watch some Clint Eastwood film about cowboys that went into space. 

In other words, Mr. Miller is an extraordinary teacher. 

Twenty minutes before the class ends, Mr. Miller pauses the movie and turns on the lights. The entire class groans as their eyes get adjusted to the white lights. 

Mr. Miller reaches into his bag and brings out a stack of white papers. One by one, he hands out the last test you all took. It wasn’t about space cowboys (although you wouldn’t have minded that). It was about the three branches of government. 

When he gets to your table, he slides your test to you and does the same to Abby. Meet me after class , is written on the front in red letters next to your perfect score. You hear Abby sigh in frustration. You know that this is hard for her, especially with the softball season coming up and their field is still in shambles. There’s so much pressure on her shoulders and no one is cutting her any slack. 

The bell rings and students jump at the opportunity to leave the classroom. Abby and you stay behind, slowly packing your things into your bag. 

Mr. Miller pulls up a chair in front of you both. 

“Now, I know you two have been studying together and I can see Abby trying in class but it’s not transferring to the test. That’s what I need you two to focus on. I want you to succeed, Abby. I really do but you need to practice a little bit more,” Mr. Miller says before pushing off his chair and returning to his desk. 

You and Abby make your way to the door. 

“Wait,” Mr Miller holds his hand up. “If it helps, you two should go to each other’s houses. Maybe being in a familiar environment could help you focus better.” 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Your bike is still missing. The posters that Dina and Jesse helped you put up are slowly starting to bleed as raindrops fall on them. 

You pull your hood over your head and your headphones in your ears. You curse yourself for wearing canvas shoes on a rainy day and get to walking. The cold air nips at your face and the wind ruffles your clothes. 

Most days, the roads are clear but that’s not the case today. Cars are bumper to bumper and their horns are blaring. It must be true that people can’t drive when it rains. There are multiple people from your school that you recognize. None of them even bat an eye at you until you see the familiar truck that carries the unmistakable scent of dirt. This time, it doesn’t just smell like dirt and must, but there’s a flowery scent that carries through the chilly air. 

Their arguing is muffled due to the windows being rolled up, but you’re almost certain that you heard the words “pregnant” and “cheating.” You aren’t much for gossip but you really wish you could be a taco wrapper tossed in the back seat right now. You want to know what’s going on because by the looks of Abby’s tear-stained face, it isn’t good. 

Abby gets out of the car and slams the door. Owen’s protests are muffled by the sound of rain hitting the concrete sidewalk. 

“Abby, are you okay?” you ask.

She turns and looks at you in surprise and then, as if she doesn’t know who you are, turns and walks away.

The rest of the walk home is spent thinking about what you just saw. You’ve never seen Abby and Owen fight but that didn’t seem like just fighting. Over the past few weeks, Abby has been a different person when Owen is around. She never smiles or talks like she used to. The girl she once was is gone and she’s been replaced by this stoic robot. 

When you get home, you take a warm shower and get changed into some different clothes. After the day you’ve had all you want to do is relax and watch TV but your phone rings as soon as you sit down on the couch. 

Dina’s voice nearly causes your heart to fall out of your chest. 

“Have you heard?”

“Heard what?” “Owen got Mel, the captain of the cheerleading team pregnant. Everyone is talking about it!” 

“Are you serious?” “Yeah. Poor Abby. She suspected that Owen was cheating on her for a while but she never had any proof until now.” 

Dina loves gossip but she has a way of handling the information so delicately. It makes one think why they are vainly talking about another human. But this isn’t gossip. This is simply one friend passing on information about another friend. Regardless, you care about Abby and it seems like she needs someone that she can trust right now. 

Dina wishes you a good night and you hang up. Your house is silent which only serves as another confirmation. You need to call Abby. 

The phone rings a total of five times before she answers. 

“Hello,” she says and it’s obvious that she’s been crying. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I-” she sighs. “I’m fine. Look, I’m sorry for what you saw today. Owen and I are having some…problems right now.”

“Abby, I know what’s going on. If you ever need anything just know that I’ll be here for you.” 

You don’t know if she’s grateful or not because you can hear her sniffle and then cry as the emotions get to her. 

“You're a really good friend,” she says through tears. 

Something about the word ‘friend’ gets to you. It makes you swallow your words and smile through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, friends.”

The phone is silent for a while. The only thing you can hear is Abby's sniffles and the sound of crickets chirping outside. And that’s how you fall asleep. On the couch while on the phone with your friend.

Next Chapter.

Taglist: @soupycloud

Thank you for reading!

[a11eya]

A11EYA DROP ANOTHA PART OF LGWH AND MY LIFE IS YOURS‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

hi gelli! i hope you don't mind me using your ask to answer the other lwgyh asks sitting in my inbox (also, your ask itself is so funny i died reading it hahaha. best way to ask for an update lmao)

lwgyh is not discontinued!!! i am putting out into the world that i will finish it!!

but being completely real with ya'll, i haven't worked on it significantly since april 😭😔 for a hot min it was because i was working on his bday fic, do you still think about me?, but after i finished it... idk, it's just been a little hard between work and some personal life stuff going on 🥺 this year has been a lil rough, ngl, and it hasn't been conducive for writing!!! grrrr!!!!!!

but let me drop a little snippet for ya'll this weekend for being so sweet in these asks and for being so patient!!! i don't have a specific upload date for chapter 11, but when i get closer to finishing it, i'll let ya'll know!!

[ladyanidala]

Jesse Snippet bc i have 0 self-control

We're at a solid 8,064 words, so enjoy another snippet of Jesse ;)

“No concussion, so that’s something.” You put down the flashlight and picked up the wipes. “Now for a look at your head.” Jesse shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.” He tried to stand, but you pushed him right back down, fury at being ignored bubbling over. “Lieutenant Jesse, either you sit here willingly, or you sit here with handcuffs. Take your pick,” you snarled. He raised a brow at you, as if daring you to cuff him. “Give me a reason,” you started as you pulled the handcuffs out from your belt, “please, I’m begging you, give me a reason to forcibly detain you in the medbay.” He paused for a moment, weighing his options between escape and containment, but angrily huffed in defeat. “Good choice,” you muttered.

@kometqh @aknightreaderr @sleepingbeauty21

[wildelydawn]

Anyways I Joined a new fandom today

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

Introducing...

Gwen Dastrup

But I must admit it, I would marry you in an instant / Damn your wife, I'd be your mistress just to have you around / But I was late for this, late for that, late for the love of my life / And when I die alone, when I die alone, when I die I'll be on time

Gwen's plan for her life had certainly never involved becoming a Clubmobile girl for the Red Cross, serving coffee, doughnuts and pretty smiles to war-weary pilots day after day. The daughter of Danish immigrants, she grew up in Chicago, running the till in her father's soda shop, but she had always dreamed of something bigger. Every day of her youth had been spent saving and toiling away to achieve her dream of attending university - studying history, publishing her work, and making a name for herself.

But the advent of war dashes her aspirations before they can be realised, and she is forced to cast her pursuits aside in aid of her country. Travelling to Thorpe Abbotts, she prays every day for the war to be over, for her life to resume its course. But meeting John Brady changes everything, as does the attentions of a charming, wealthy RAF officer, and Gwen is forced to decide how hard she is willing to fight for love and the life she's always wished for.

[the-ninja-legacy-whip]

I got gifted this very very very cute story that, while not perhaps entirely accurate to Book 3 (for those caught up), it still technically adheres to Cracked!Legacyverse, so all is good if you’ve been keeping up with the sidestories~

(Which means psst @k1ngtok1 there’s Jamie mention!!)

Summary: Antonia had a front row seat to her best friend Jesse's disaster of a love life for so long, it's becoming sad now.

So with all her options exhausted, she decided to ask the two unlikeliest individuals for help.

Let's hope she won't regret this.

[aerialflight]

i'm writing a gilmore girls fic that involves paris geller from our pandemic year 2020 going back to 2001, around the time jess first comes in to town. very slow burn between jess/paris. i have around 10k words of snippets all over my doc and an outline and i'm slowly becoming re-obsessed with gilmore girls again. what the fuck is up with this fandom that i keep going back to like an on-and-off again boyfriend??? anyway, i have no idea if i'll ever post this and i've been going back and forth on this for what feels like forever. if this sounds at all interesting, let me know.

[daydadahlias]

John Dough

it's Crystal's @kindahoping4forever birthday and i love her :)

Summary: The one where Luke is an erotica writer pining after Calum the mailman but, also, the small-town baker is pretty hot too.

Word Count: 15,821

Pairing: Luke Hemmings/Ashton Irwin/Calum Hood

Rating: E

Content Warnings: puns

READ ON AO3

[twobites]

is this something (alt text under cut)

Image 1: Still from The Social Network of Mark leading Eduardo outside the party.

Image 2: Connor McDavid and Dylan Strome talking inside an arena.

Image 3: Transcript from The Social Network. MARK: “I’m afraid if you don’t come out here you’re going to get left behind. I want - I want - I need you out here, please don’t tell him I said that.” EDUARDO: “What did you just say?” MARK: “It’s moving faster than any of us ever even imagined and -” EDUARDO: “What do you mean get left behind?”

Image 4: Still from The Social Network of the above scene.

Image 5: 2015 headline from The Star, “Dylan Strome happy to develop in Connor McDavid’s shadow”

[themyscirah]

When you start anthropomorphizing the green lantern rings 😘💚✌️

[thethistlegirl]

There’s a harsh, discordant ringing in Jesse’s ears when he wakes up. For a minute, he can’t figure out why the air smells scorched and his lungs are aching and his head is throbbing. Oh. Right. The abandoned house. The meth lab. The bomb. Ryan.

AU where Jesse and not Natalia went into the rigged house with Ryan during the census case.

AKA A fic I finished months ago and forgot to post until just now...

@nade2308

[oph3liatlou]

So, how about this

Ellie, Jesse and Tommy find a really scared seraphite reader injured and trying to scape from WFL, and they wanna kill her for obvious reasons, her people are a cult of murderers. Reader is so scared and don't have any gun to defend herself. But jesse boy just feels this urge to protect her and he confronts both of them to not kill reader. By the end, he carries injured reader with them to the theater and they all silently notice how jesse is getting all close and careful with reader, giving her some of his food/supplies for her to eat, talking to her and actually treating her like a person when everyone else is still wary of her. Almost like eleven and mike at the beginning of stranger things yk

- IT'S THE RIGHT THING TO DO

pairings; seattle!jesse x serephite!female

warning(s); mentions of gore/pain, swearing, needles and pain medication (for medical reasons),

word count; 1.9k

proofread?; yes.

note from author; sorry i’ve been semi-hiatus 😵‍💫

summary; you got injured, and seperated from the other serephites.

You were cold, and in pain from the long cut on your leg. Getting separated from your group of Serephites whilst patrolling, the group had a run-in with the WLF group. Those of which drove you into hiding and losing your group in the fight. You weren't much of a fighter, but you could hold your own in a one-on-one fight but, a large group with people twice your size was out of the question.

Alone, cold and scared - you walked around, hoping your group had stuck to their patrol route, which is what you were walking currently, stumbling through the pain. You decided to sit down and take a break where you thought was safe, right outside of an abandoned theatre.

That's when you heard it, people speaking - maybe even laughing. You tried to stay quiet, but with your leg hurting - you couldn't help but groan in pain. The group of passerbyers heard you now, you noticed a gruff man's hunting rifle trained on you - as well as a young woman's pistol. The other man, lowered his gun slowly when he caught sight of you. You raised your hands immeditley - having no weapon of your own anymore.

"Easy there." The one man said calmly. The other man kept his gun trained on you. "Who are you?!" He yelled. The younger man grabbed his arm, when he noticed your shocked and scared expression.

"Tommy-" The name of the scary man with the gun...the younger man pulled Tommy away. "-she's got no weapon and she's clearly hurt." He glanced at the younger woman again, who was practically shaking and staring at the other woman, who's gun was trained on her.

The younger woman was now realizing who you were, or at least what group you were in. "She's a Serephite...I recognize the clothing type-" She had turned to Tommy and the other man, though her gun was still trained on you.

Tommy scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Oh, great. So she's a cultist?" He asked, glancing at you before continuing. "Keep her there, Ellie."

Tommy turned back to talk to the other man. "Jesse-" He called him. "We can't trust her, and I'm sure as hell not letting a cultist into the safehouse."

Jesse scoffed. "You don't know that for sure," He stated. "You want to risk killing an innocent girl?" Jesse almost seemed to be pleading with Tommy. You stayed silent, cold and still shaking - Ellie, the young woman - looked at you with slight remorse but, she still didn't lower her gun.

"An innocent cultist?" Tommy responded with sheer sarcasm. "Look," Jesse started. "She's clearly hurt and she just needs some help. If she tries anything, feel free to start blasting." Jesse shrugged towards him before walking towards the two women.

"Leave her, Ellie." Jesse said gently, Ellie lowered her gun - glancing between Tommy who shrugged, and Jesse who was crouching in front of you. You couldn't even speak yet - seeing as you were practically waiting on the verdict for your life.

"I'm Jesse, that's Ellie and Tommy." Jesse stated and pointed to the others. You glanced between them all, but your eyes came back to Jesse - in front of you. "I'm just going to check your pockets for weapons, okay?" He asked, his voice soft - as if he was secretly trying to comfort you. He checked your pockets and looked over his shoulder at Ellie and Tommy for a moment. "Nothing." He clarified.

Tommy was still continuing to eye you - he clearly didn't trust you. Jesse looked at your leg, which you were holding. "Blood." You finally spoke to Jesse. He nodded seeing the blood from your legs seeping into your hands. "Come on, we can patch you up inside. Can you walk?"

The truth was, you didn't know if you could or not. You shrugged and tried to stand - Jesse had to catch you when you stumbled. He waited for you to get your balance before helping you to walk towards the theater.

Ellie looked around her surroundings. "We should keep watch, if both the WLF and other Serephites are out there." She stated, as Tommy followed the others inside.

You winced, leaning onto Jesse as he led you all inside. You were still clearly scared, or maybe more nervous about the group you had found. Especially Tommy, since all he seemed to do was yell at you.

Once they got into the theatre, Tommy locked the doors and pulled a chair to pry in between the handles. "We should keep her away from Dina..." Ellie suggested, seeing as Dina was pregnant. "I'll go stay with her, explain what's going on." She excused herself from the room while Jesse sat you down on the ratty couch on the right side of the large room.

Once you had sat down comfortably, you were able to stretch your leg out on the side of the couch. "I've gotta go get a med kit," Jesse said, speaking directly to you. You nodded in response.

Tommy shot a look towards you. It was clear he still had some suspicions towards you. "I'll watch her," Tommy confirmed. Jesse shrugged at him. As far as he was concerned, you weren't a threat right now. "She can't even walk - you think she'd be stupid enough to try and attack you?" He asked theoretically, before leaving for a moment to grab some medical supplies. Tommy had an iron grip on his gun, as if waiting for you to give him a reason to shoot.

Tommy continued to watch you like a hawk, as if you were going to do something at any moment. You sighed, glancing back down at the leg you were holding again, before mumbling something to yourself.

May she guide me.

Jesse walked back into the room a moment later. He held some gauze, a needle and thread, a bottle of alcohol, and a bottle you assumed to be medication.

He approached you and sat next to your injured leg. "Is it okay if I look at it?" Jesse asked gently. You nodded in response, clearly still worried speaking around Tommy. You didn't seem to mind Jesse though, but he also wasn't threatening to kill you every five seconds.

Jesse moved his hands towards your leg, moving the sliced pant leg out of the way. "This might sting a bit." He explained, opening the bottle of alcohol with a pop of the cap. He carefully started to clean out your wound. You hissed at the pain but, you didn't scream out loud. Jesse moved to sew up the slash on your leg - which looked similar to the scars on your face. Jesse then wrapped your leg with some gauze and nodded. "That should do it..." He stated, gently giving you a smile.

You looked up from your leg to him. "...thank you."

Jesse nodded towards you. He quickly shook the thought of you hurting anybody from his mind. "Here, take one - it's pain medication." He held the bottle out to you and shook one pill into your hand.

Tommy looked at the two of them, he still wasn't convinced that you weren't dangerous.

About twenty minutes later - of all of you sitting in silence. "How's the pain?" Jesse asked you. You nodded silently at his question before trying to stand. This time, the pain was bearable - and you didn't stumble. You took a few steps forward and limped a little.

"I should go." You stated, you didn't want to be here any longer than you had to - not the way you felt unwelcomed by Tommy and Ellie. Jesse looked a bit surprised to see you walking so soon, and wanting to leave. "Don't you want to rest?" Jesse asked gently.

You shrugged. "No time." You explained. "I need to find my group." With your statement, Tommy rolled his eyes. "What, so you can run off 'en tell 'em where we are?"

Jesse turned back and shot Tommy a look. "She just wanted her leg fixed, and she's probably hungry and tired." He said, Tommy scoffed but said nothing more.

Jesse turned to you. "How about this," He started. "I'll give you some supplies and you can rest. You can leave when the sun comes up, less infected and I'm sure your group will be looking for you by then."

You thought about it for a moment. Your leg was still hurting, even though the painkillers helped a bit. Plus, you didn't need to strain it some more. "...okay." You finally nodded.

Tommy rolled his eyes. "Jesus boy, you might as well invite her into the settlement." He was careful not to name Jackson - since he didn't want to give any location away. With that last comment, he left the room.

Jesse sighed as Tommy left. It was clear how much he didn't trust you, and that kind of tension wasn't something Jesse wanted right now. "Follow me." Jesse said, glancing over to the door for a moment before standing.

He led you down into the theatre's bar, a few feet away. He went behind the bar as you sat down on one of the stools. He grabbed a can of ravioli and a spoon before he handed it to you. "Go ahead." He said gently.

You hadn't eaten in nearly two days, since the WLF chased your group out of one of the patrol sites. You glanced up at him, almost in awe as you took the can and spoon. "I don't um, have anything to open it." You stated, slightly shaking the can.

Jesse smiled gently, before reaching into his pocket and handing you his pocket knife, it seemed like he really trusted you now. You reached your hand out, it slightly shaking as you grabbed it to stab it into the can and drag it along the edge. "Your friends might think I'm going to attack you with it." You stated, but he could tell there was a hint of lightheartedness in your voice.

Jesse smiled gently. Your humor was a bit contagious. You smiled, handing him back the knife and digging into the can. You were hungry and that was visible. Jesse watched as you ate for a moment before he spoke again. "How did you end up here anyway?" He asked.

You realized you never had the chance to explain yourself, seeing as this whole night was near chaos. "Wolves, they chased us away from one of our small camps when they were passing through." You paused. ", one of them slashed my leg open when I was trying to run - I was able to hide but my group ran off." You explained. "They were supposed to come down this way..."

Jesse listened to you, and nodded his head. Your story seemed to line up so he wasn't worried. "I'm sure they thought you were dead, that's why they left." He paused, handing you a bottle of water. "We could try and get you back to them and-"

You inturrupted him. "They'd kill you."

Jesse frowned slightly. It was the truth, but that hardly meant he couldn't find a way to get you back to them. "I'm not just going to let you wander off without trying to help you find them." He said. You finished your ravioli can by now, and left it on the counter. "...why?"

Jesse sighed and leaned back against the countertop, thinking, before he looked back at you.

"It's the right thing to do."

[tarabyte3]

The way I am so 👀💕 at all of these, Tara!! I want to ask about all of them, but selfishly I am dying to hear about The Gentle Sin is This, My Two Lips. (And if you’ve already been asked about that one, then I’d love to hear about the one that you’re the most excited about!)

Can’t wait to inhale all of these!! Hope you’re having a great friday, dear friend 💖

Thank you so much, Jess! 🥺💖 I'm very glad you asked about that one because I'm constantly inspired by and rereading your, @stargirlfics, and @tarrenterror25's incredible Alfred fics. So this will be the direct result of that!

Summary: "You've had a horrible day at work. Alfred vows to take care of you."

The whole thing is going to be sensual/romantic fluff with reader care/worship from Alfred. The title is inspired by the first time Romeo speaks to Juliet:

"If I profane with my unworthiest hand

This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."

[stranger-awakening]

the euphoria of finishing a fic is so quickly replaced with the agonising realisation that this bitch needs a title