#light threats

[chatsurie]

Her little light

part 2

The first time had been heart wrenching. Even while getting out of the car her legs had shaken so badly she had feared for that short second that she would kneel over. What an impression that would have been, huh? Especially in front of a five star hotel that only the Elite of Society was able to afford.

It had indeed been a long cry from her run down apartment with it's screeching wood floors and the rattling walls from the incoming trains near the main station.

She remembered checking the picture on her phone multiple times and rereading all the information she had, before she had actually gotten out of the car, the driver shooting her another cautioning glance, as if to say 'don't fuck this up or it'll be your head on the platter'.

The man she had been waiting for, had stood in front of the entrance his phone in his hand, rapidly typing something. She had taken a deep breath, when she had realized that at least the picture had been true. Sure, the agency checked their clients before accepting them, but an agency already being deeply in the illegal network had never seemed extremely trustworthy to her.

The anxiety doubled down, when the stranger and her went into the restaurant with her on his arm.

It was alright. She only had to get through the night. She only had to survive this dinner, looking pleasant like a dumb doll, and would then just have to accompany the man to his hotel. Nothing more nothing less. Just dinner and Sex. And after that she would have a big wad of cash that she could have never brought in while bartending.

Everything would work out fine.

Sex had seldom been a pleasurable occasion for her, even before then. She was used to just lying down and taking what they gave or giving what they wanted.

That night she understood that there was a different kind of humiliation of taking the tip of the table while the client explained to her that he would definitely reschedule her while wiring her agency the money which would then immediately go back to hers, obviously minus the interest.

That morning, after sending her babysitter home, she had slid down the shower wall and cried under the shower head. She had still been able to feel his hands everywhere. There had been marks all over her body. Bites, the occasional handprint from the slaps he had dished out, and her hair still hurt from the way he had pulled on it.

That morning she had prayed to never have to meet this man again.

But alas, it was another bill paid. It was another wad of cash that went into the savings for her little light. Maybe she wouldn't have the life she had always dreamed of having but she would make damn sure that her son would get whatever the hell he wanted. She would make damn sure that her little light at least would have everything he needed.

And maybe some day, when Kiro was grown up enough to understand, and when she had enough saved up to move them to a better place and when she had gotten her online degree, she could become a mother Kiro could be proud of.

Yes. Maybe some day.

What a great dream that had been.

Now, a good five years later, there wasn't even an inch of anxiety left over as she sat at the fine table waiting for one of her regulars.

He had been an intimidating man, when she had first met him. Through the vetting she had done beforehand she had known exactly who he was, what he was and most importantly, who he worked for. It had taken some time until she had been able to engage in completely normal conversation with him, since she had also been quite new to the business at that point and he could be intimidating enough on his own as well.

However after being his escort for a good of four years, she could pride herself in knowing the man quite well. He really was nothing more than another rich Dude with too many connections and own emotional problems to honestly consider Dating.

That was always the best client to have.

“Good Evening, Koko!” Smiling brightly the young woman got up, as the man made his way over to her table. His usual red jacket thing, she never knew what to call it exactly, hung loose over his arms reminding her that he probably hadn't eaten right again.

But that wasn't something she was to worry about.

It was none of her business

“Evenin'.”

His voice sounded a bit gruffer than usual as well as he leaned down to press a light kiss on her cheek in greeting. It was one of those nights then.

The bracelets on his wrists jingled as he pulled away her chair for her to sit in, before taking a seat as well.

She remembered the first time he had done that for her. Up to this point her clients had been relatively well behaved, but Koko had been and still was her best paying client. Surprisingly enough he was also the one who was the most cordial, if she could call it that. When he had pushed away the chair for her the first time she had been so flabbergasted that she had outright told him to not do it again.

The simple raise of his brow had made her apologize for the apparently perceived disrespect immediately and she honestly didn't know why he had decided to meet with her again.

“How was your week, Koko?” She always started with some light conversation before Koko would tell her what exactly he expected from her when it was one of those days.

He only grunted, as the waiter left their table.

“If we ignore the idiots at work that I have to deal with on a daily fucking basis, it was okay-ish.”

Someone was prickly.

As he took a sip from his red wine she felt him scrutinising her in a way that he hadn't since their first meeting. It was the moment she knew she wouldn't like what he would say next. Maybe he finally got tired of her?

He sighed shaking his head and taking a sip from his water, “anyways. How was your week? I hope you bought yourself something for once? Honestly. I don't think I have seen one dress on you that I never saw before. What do you do with all my money?”

If she were any other person his direct call out might have stung the way it was supposed to. Now though, she only made a note to put special attention on the left side of his spine when she gave him a massage later. Koko was rather difficult to handle when that man hadn't eaten, hadn't had a somehow uneventful work day and a tense back to top it off.

“Well, I'd say what I do with my money, Koko,” she simply teased, a flirtatious lilt in her voice as she took his free hand and starting a light massage of his muscles, “isn't any of your concern, as long as I look perfectly the part I need to look. Wouldn't you say?”

“I have a proposition for you.” He started again, after looking her up and down, his tone serious, still not pulling his hand away. It was always a good sign. “First of all, I would double the rate I'm paying usually for the evening in question.” He stopped, letting the information sink in.

Double the rate? That was... that was a lot of money. That was honestly too much. He was talking about 15k for Gods sake. With that money the dream of being able to send Kiro away for college seemed all the closer. He would be able to get the best education there was with everything she had already saved for him. Hell, maybe, just maybe he would even be able to study outside the country when the time came.

What was the catch?

So deep in her thoughts, she hadn't realized she had stopped the massage, until Koko lightly tapped her hand, which made her start up again, though a bit more hesitantly. Koko only started up speaking again, after the fact.

“Second, I wouldn't leave you the whole evening. You'd be by my side the whole time.”

Oh she really wouldn't like that, would she?

“I'll also take it upon myself to send you the correct wardrobe for the evening. The only task you would have is look pretty on my arm as usual and maybe have some pleasant conversation.”

“What is the evening about?” She asked him after a while of silence as he didn't seem like he wanted to elaborate and for a short second she thought she saw something like guilt flash through his eyes.

“It's a simple business dinner with the executives of my organisation. Not more not less.”

What?!

That was it?

15k just for that?

She had to be missing something there. Right?

Wait. His organisation? Wouldn't that mean Bonten? As in the most dangerous Gang in Japan right now? That Bonten?

The amount suddenly started to make sense.

“For what do you need a date for that?” There was a slight accusatory tone in her voice and she withdrew her hand. Sometimes she just couldn't keep her thoughts inside her head.

Koko chuckled, “can't I simply enjoy your presence?”

She bit her lip. That was a sweet deal. But was it worth the potential danger? What if this meeting ended up being the one finally creating the bullet with her name on it? She couldn't let her Son grow up without a mother!

“Can I think about it?” She asked him after a short while.

Koko nodded slowly. “I can give you three days. Then I need to know. The dinner would be in a week. Saturday night at 10.”

If she really did decide to go she would have to find another babysitter. The teenager who usually looked after Kiro, a sweet eighteen year old girl who was preparing for entrance exams had already told her that she wouldn't be able to work next Saturday.

After that conversation was over, some stress seemed to fall of from Koko's shoulders and the answers he gave her throughout the rest of dinner were nothing short of polite and charm.

“Ready to go?” He asked her, as the waiter cleaned up the plates.

It was time for that part of the night, she still dreaded. In all the five years of doing the escort service it just didn't seem to get any easier. Sure it helped that Koko was a regular and surprisingly more gentle than most of her clients, but she just didn't seem to be able to get over the feeling of powerlessness it gave her.

Koko's hand on her back created a steady pulse as he led her outside after paying.

The ride to the hotel was quiet. His hand had wandered from the small of her back to the inside of her thighs in the same way it always did only leaving its place when he needed to switch gears. Funnily enough it were always these car rides that the young woman realized that out of all the clients she had, Koko was probably the most touch starved. He always needed some kind of bodily contact if the surrounding allowed for it.

The hotel the two stayed at was always a different one, always high end, and always in a part of a city she could have never dreamed of stepping in without him. Out of curiosity she once visited Ginza, a part of Tokyo, Koko liked to stay at on her own when she had made the time and just looking at the hellishly expensive shop windows made her feel filthy. And that was after starting to make good money with the whole escorting spiel.

The hotel Koko had chosen this time was another glamorous one. The name did scratch an itch, but she couldn't really explain why.

After Koko had parked and opened the door for her, he gave the keys to a valet who seemingly didn't need a reminder to be extremely careful with his car.

The inside of the hotel was as luxurious as the outside and it honestly didn't do anything to cause her wonder anymore. It was just another picture of what she would never be able to afford, because her first and last concern would always be the well being of her son. That's where her money went and that's where she was happy seeing her money going. If having sex with rich men, could buy her son the best education and a flat in a good part of the city then that was all that was needed.

And who knew. If she really did take this job Koko had proposed, maybe she could finally at least take a step back and restart her own education.

Maybe it really did end up being worth it.

The ring of the elevator, signalling that they had reached the suite pushed her out of her musings violently.

It would be fine. Just the same old, with someone she at least partly trusted. Hell anyone would be worse than Koko. After all maybe she could even consider him a nice acquaintance at this point.

He was careful with her in a way no other of her clients were. There really wasn't a need for her anxiety to spark again.

“How about you finally get rid of this awful jacket so I can get out that painful knot near your spine again.” She whispered in his ear, while letting her fingers glide slowly up and down his back, the cloth of his jacket feeling as expensive as always.

“I always wonder how you know,” Koko answered while turning around, “I think it's your job to take it off though.”

Obviously. Not a penny from his hand without doing the actual work, she thought, suppressing the chuckle that wanted to slip out at that. Instead she started busying her hands on the buttons, kissing down the every speck of newly bared skin while starting to walk him towards the bed.

Maybe she'd be able to finish everything quickly? That way she might be able to get more than four hours of sleep, before preparing breakfast for both her son and the babysitter? The poor girl was probably kept up by the little ruffian for quite some time and it was a Sunday. She deserved to sleep in form time to time.

Was she a bad mother? Sure, the babysitter came only once a week, at most twice but her son had a no good prostitute-

Stop, that was not the time and place.

Koko paid her well enough to deserve at least every ounce of attention she was willing to give. She owed him at least that.

Once his legs hit the end of the bed she finally stripped the jacket off.

“Am I allowed to put my attention on your back now, Sir?”

Koko chuckled, sitting down on the bed, “you know, I might have, if you weren't such a damn tease. Right now, I think there's something else that needs attention. If you really want to massage me, you're going to have to earn it.”

It really was one of those days. He would fight her tooth and nail on every act that wasn't overtly sexual, wouldn't he?

Throwing him a demure smile, she got to work, carefully opening up his velvet pants all the while kissing down his stomach and v-line, slowly ridding him of his trousers and boxer shorts and stroking him a few times, before finally taking him in her mouth, all the while maintaining eye contact with him.

Two hours later, she was completely exhausted lying next to him on the bed. God she was so tired.

Koko's fingers were painting feathery pictures on her skin.

“You know, usually I have to wrestle you back into bed for just a few more seconds of lying around. You sure you alright?”

Sighing she hid her face underneath her arm.

“Oh you know,” she did her best to shoot him a half grin, “just age catching up with me.”

Koko sighed at that. Right. She had forgotten. Age was a bit of a prickly subject with the man.

“You know it's only these tiny moments that you really do look your age. If I were a better man, I would kick you out with some more money and tell you to make something out of yourself.”

But your not,” she whispered, “it's exactly because you are the man that you are, that this arrangement works so well.”

It was that moment. That second, where his hands stopped painting circles on her shoulders and instead went to the back of her scalp, carefully massaging it, that she knew the next conversation would be the dreaded one. It had started around two years ago. After he had helped her get out from her old agency, while allowing her to keep some of her normal regulars, that the conversation first came up.

“You know, I'd be able to care for you without a problem. You would just need to let me. Become my sugar baby. You wouldn't need to do this escorting shit any longer, just to be able to pay your fucking rent, because you know as well as I do, that none of them pay you like I can and do.”

She sighed, forcing herself to sit up, “Koko,” god she was so tired, “we've been over this. My answer will stay the same as it has the times before. It's a no. I appreciate the offer, but I can't.”

The man rolled his eyes shoving his hand through his white hair. “Why not? I don't think I've ever asked.”

The fact that a man like him still asked, was something that deeply surprised her every time.

“Koko, I just can't.”

Maybe she had pushed her luck with him a tad bit too much, because the look he gave her was every bit the one of a hardened criminal.

“That's not good enough. I'd say I've been rather patient with you. I want a fucking reason this time around. And it better be a good one.”

The threat of or else hanging up in the air made her wonder if she should push her luck a bit further. She had never liked to be told what to do. One look at his eyes, completely devoid of all the usual mischief, made her rethink.

“Because you're possessive, Hajime.” She nearly would have told him that sometimes she worried that this whole deal wasn't completely transactional for him, “I can't be dependent on a single man in my life ever again. The moment you drop me, because I have outlived my purpose, I will be alone. Without a network to support me, to fall back on. And since we can't put a date on when you will abandon me, and that you will, I need to use every opportunity I can to make sure I have enough money to live comfortably. So no, Koko. I can't.”

With that she finally got up off the bed. Maybe he finally understood it now.

He was silent, as she went along getting dressed, knowing that tomorrow the money would have been transferred to her bank account. Because that was all it was. Money.

His next words had been drowned out by the elevator doors closing. If she would have heard them, maybe she would have considered trying to cut off all ties with him.

And if just for the purpose of her own sanity.

As she closed the door to her apartment, Silence greeted her. Taking a second to take a breath she just stood behind the closed door for a second before ridding herself of the coat, hanging it up on the hanger and making her way over to the kitchen. Downing a glass of water she finally dared to throw a glance at the clock hanging on the wall. Half past four. Too late again. Maybe if she went to bed now, she would be able to sleep at least for two hours before getting back up again, to make breakfast for her son and babysitter. Kiro sadly still was somewhat of an early riser. But then again, she should probably count herself lucky. There were kids that got up at six instead of seven.

Settling into bed, she tried to forget about the evening. Most of all Koko's preposition.

It sounded all the more enticing the more he asked her. For the sake of her two hours of sleep, she still decided to make it a problem for future her.

She had just finished cooking the pancakes as her little whirlwind stumbled inside the kitchen.

“Mommy! You're home! Look at what me and Hanna-san drew yesterday. She put it on the fridge. Look. It's a gigantic bra- brachiosaurus. I called him Totoro, because Hanna-san told me he would protect me!”

Smiling the woman had turned around, first to Kiro to raise him up, “it's Hanna -san and me, Kiro. Remember. First you call the other person,” and snuggle him against her. Then she finally turned to the fridge.

Yeah, painting was absolutely not his strong suit, she thought as she looked at the picture. Without his explanation she honestly would have been unable to say what it was.

“Totoro is beautiful, dear. Just as precious as you. Did you sleep well?”

After breakfast and sending home a still sleepy but thankfully happy Hanna, Kiro helped her cutting up some fruit to take with them to the park. She had never thought that she would love listening to all kinds of information about Dinosaurs as she did, as her son talked her ear off.

An hour into playing hide and seek at the park, Kiro finally decided to go play by himself on the playground situated inside the park, allowing the young woman to finally sit down and take a sip of her energy drink infused coffee. Days like this made her remember why she did everything she did. She really should call Koko tonight and tell him that she would accept the dinner with his organisation. If it meant seeing more smiles on this tiny face she would fight the world for her little light.

“My, I didn't expect to see someone this pretty today. May I sit with you?”

Surprised the woman turned her head around, taking her eyes off her son and at least staring at an overwhelmingly tall man dressed in a pair of black slacks and a white shirt. His lilac hair falling into his sharp face she did have to agree that he was rather pretty.

“Sure,” she slowly said. There was something about this man. She had seen him somewhere before, “be my guest.” With that she turned back around, taking another sip of her coffee, while watching over Kiro again.

“Autsch, that hurt my ego just the tiniest bit, sweets. I've never been shot down this quickly before.” The man beside her started up again, a teasing hurt in his voice and she turned back around to him.

“Sorry,” she started clarifying, “I'm not-”

The man interrupted her, “interested? Yeah I figured. Damn. Your man must be happy.”

“I don't-”

“You don't have a man?! Now I feel even worse.”

Fucking! Could he stop interrupting her? He was thinking so fast her sleep addled mind had trouble keeping up.

“Sorry. Do we know each other?” She asked again, her tone taking on a sharper tone, finally looking him up and down. Her eyes instantly fell onto the tattoo on his neck. The same one Koko wore.

He was another executive. Had Koko? No. For what would he send another executive to her. And if he did want to observe her or whatever, he would find someone more inconsipcous than this man

He grinned. “Ah,finally. The question I was hoping for. We don't yet, dear. I'm Ran. Pleasure to meet you.”

Telling him her name, she turned his name over in her head a few times.

Ran. Was he the one Koko complained about constantly? No, that place took a man named Sanzu if she remembered correctly,

“Can I help you somehow?” The woman asked, her voice still as sharp. She had not went out today to hold conversations with another gangster. The goal today was spending time with her son.

“Just wondering what a beautiful woman such as yourself is doing here all by herself.”

Before she could answer, her son came running over. “Mommy! Look! I found a worm.” Grinning brightly he held the poor animal right into her face as he came to a halt in front of her.

Shaking her head lightly, she kneeled down in front of him, in order to become eye level with him. “Kiro,” a strict tone in her voice, “what have I told you about picking up random animals?”

The little ruffian had the nerve to look the slightest bit sheepish, as he put the worm back into the ground, “to always be careful with animals and con- consider that the smaller the more, uh, fra- fragile they are?”

“Exactly. That's my sweet boy. Now what do you not do when you find a worm?”

He bit his lip the slightest bit, leaning his head to the side while thinking, “that I shouldn't run with it? And instead be extra gentle?”

Stroking his hair, she grinned at him, holding her hand out for a high five. “Exactly.”

As Kiro looked up at his mother, he suddenly started to realize that his mother wasn't actually alone. Shying away, he quickly hid behind her, clutching her legs, as she stood up again and peeked around her to look at him.

“Aww, now who is that little man?” Ran asked, cooing at the child.”

Taking on a protective stance, not trusting the man in front of her, she took a little side step to be completely in front of Kiro.

“That's my son. Why don't you run a long dear. The swing is free now. I'll come over in a second.”

With that Kiro nodded at her, threw a last glance at Ran and took off towards the swings.

“He's very precious. No need to be so protective though. I wouldn't hurt a child. Nor you. At least as long as it isn't consensual?”

Rolling her eyes she put her hands on her hips. “Ran-san. I am not interested. My plate is full enough, I do not need another man in my life. Now, please move along!”

Ran sighed as if the load of a thousand worlds had just been dropped on his shoulders.

“Alright. I get it. It's been a pleasure to meet you though. I'm sure you're a great mother by the way. I would have killed to have one as attentive as you. You two have a nice day.”

That did have the effect of making her blush. It wasn't all that often, someone complemented her on her education skills. Heck, most other mothers she had the misfortune of talking to just turned up the nose after finding out she was a 24 year old single mother with a five year old child.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it. Have a nice day as well.”

When they left the park in the afternoon she had nearly forgotten about Ran again. Instead she got to making dinner, while helping Kiro set the table.

Looking at him now, she knew that her decision had been made the moment Koko asked her. She would take him up on the offer.

Taking the burner, he had supplied her with she simply dialled the speed dial. It only rang about two times before he accepted the call.

“ What is it? I'm quite busy!”

Was he still annoyed with her? She had expected him to sulk a bit after their last conversation but she hadn't thought that he would still be angry. After all the last few times he hadn't been either. So why now?”

“Don't worry I'll make it short. I just wanted to tell you that I accept your request for the dinner meet. That is if you really do not leave me alone there.”

There was a short silence on the other end and then a light chuckle. “Awesome. That's great to hear. I'll tell the boss then. I'll pick you up at your place. Just write me the address.”

Hurrying before he could end the call, the declined, “No, Koko. Just tell me where I should come and I'll be there when you want me to.”

Koko sighed, “I'll still need your address. I will send you a dress. Can't let you come with the same thing you always wear for me.”

Gnawing at her lips she mulled it over. Somehow she had always known that the sense of privacy she had tried to put between her and Kokonoi would be teared down by the man in time. First it had been the higher pricing he had ensured to give her, then it was the agency he thankfully rid her off, then came his insistence on being the sole provider and now it was her address. She was getting more and more tired by the day. Everything would be so easy if she would just let him.

“Sure,” she answered hesitantly, “I'll send it to you. Anyways dinner's nearly done, I better get back to cooking. Have a nice evening, Koko.”

That Saturday she got ready in the bathroom being extra meticulous with her Make up and hair. Deciding to put it up into a well thought out more traditional style. It reminded her a bit of the style her own mother had always forced her into when they had went to important functions. The hair ornament she put in after much contemplation the only thing left that still reminded her of her previous heritage.

Just as she had put on the red dress, embellished with gold accents, surely to match Koko's dress robe, her bell rang.

She didn't have the kinds of friends that would just drop by on a whim. Especially not on a Saturday when they knew she would be working. So then who else?

Surely he wouldn't, right? She had explicitly told him to not pick her up?

Even before she could completely settle down and think it over once more, she could hear the door opening.

Kiro!

“What the?” She heard an erringly familiar voice as she quickly made her way through the hallway.

“Sorry Kid, I must have the wrong number.”

“What are you doing here, Koko?!” She asked the man sharply as she came to a halt in front of the door, pulling Kiro behind her once more, turning around to him.

“Can you go to your room and think about what you wanna take with you to Granny tonight? Maybe Chihiro?” Kiro had recently started to get crazy for Ghibli movies and had promptly named all his most precious cuddly toys after characters he liked.

Kiro nodded slightly insecure, throwing a few glances between his mother and the strange man, before running to his room.

“What are you doing here, Koko? I told you I'd come on my own?!” She asked him again, while pulling him inside the apartment and leading him inside her kitchen in order to not let anyone see him standing on her door step. What if her landlady saw him and thought she was in heavy debt and decided to finally use that reason to evict them.

“I still need to tell you about a few things tonight, so I thought it better to pick you up,” the man defended, leaning on the kitchen counter while throwing a confused glance to where the boy had ran to, “i didn't know you had a little brother.” He finally decided to breach the subject

Turning her back to him, she reached up to get two glasses out of her cupboards and filled them with water. One she put down next to Koko, the other stayed in her hand the cold grounding her just the slightest bit.

“Because he isn't. He's my son. Kiro.” She finally told him after deciding that there wasn't anyway she wouldn't be having that conversation with him.

Koko's eyes nearly immediately fell down to her right hand. Surely searching for a ring on her finger.

“Does your, sorry I don't see a ring, does your boyfriend know that you do what you do?” He actually had the nerve to sound angry. As if it was any of his business.

“As a matter of fact,” she told him, voice pitched higher, already wanting him to just leave her sanctuary and just leave her the fuck alone, “he doesn't. And even if he did he wouldn't care, because he is not in the picture any more. Now. If you're done judging me for my poor choices in life, maybe you can tell me what was so important for me to know that you decided to blatantly disregard my privacy and come here, even though I told you not to.”

Looking just the slightest bit sheepish he took a sip of his drink taking a look around his kitchen.

“Ya know, when I came here I was honestly a bit worried. This shithole might be in a better part of town but with the money I give you, you should have been able to afford better than this run down flat,” she wanted to interrupt him at that. Who did he think he was to come into her home and disrespect everything she worked for? One sharp look at her made her close her mouth acting as if she had just needed to take a bit breath, “I honestly thought you had some kind of addiction or maybe you were in trouble with a few shark loans but surely you would be intelligent enough to tell me and let me solve the problem for you,“ he went on, taking a few steps towards her, “It didn't even cross my mind that you might have a child that you're spending on and saving for. If you would have just told me, I could have helped you with that, ya know?”

Crossing her arms in front of her chest she glared around him. She hated when he looked at her like that. Like he was able to give her the world and more with no remorse for the repercussions and hurt he would cause other people and maybe even her.

She hated it so much.

The last time someone had looked at her in this way she had ended up a single Mother.

“Anyways, “she tried to deflect, “what did you want to talk about? Wasn't my only responsibility tonight to look pretty on your arm?”

Koko rolled his eyes pulling her shortly against him, “Sorry. I did mean to tell you that you look simply ravishing.” He gave her a little kiss on her head, while she tried wrestling free from his embrace. What was going on with him today? His moods changed so fast and it very nearly gave her whiplash.

“Your deflecting again. What did you want to talk about?” She asked into his chest after accepting that she wouldn't get out of that Constrictor grip he had on her.

Koko finally let go of her, and with his expensive cologne not blocking of the nerve ends to her brain she finally felt like she could think freely again.

“I wanted to-,” he stopped himself before starting a new sentence. It was the first time she had seen him do that, “Actually, no matter anymore. We've wasted enough time. Lets get, Kiro was it, to his Granny?”

Seizing him up and down she tried finding out what he was concocting in his head before nodding slowly. She was getting paid for this. So simple politeness it was.

“Wait here.” she told him, while going to get her son.

As she helped Kiro pack the last of his stuff for the night, she could hear Koko rummaging through her flat. It made a pit open in her stomach. There was a reason, why she had never accepted his requests for driving her home. She didn't want a customer to invade her privacy even more than she already let them. She didn't want to give them more of a fantasy than she already gave. She didn't want Koko to think of anything more than the employer, employee relationship they had.

A relationship that was slowly sizzling out and warping into something that she wouldn't have any control over.

“Who is this man, Mommy? Are you in love with him? Is he going to be my Dad?”

Kiro's words made her halt and old insecurities came back to light so suddenly she nearly fell over. His father wasn't in the picture any more. After getting her pregnant and being put in front of the choice of his families inheritance and his son, he had chosen. Kiro had never even seen a picture and since he had started elementary school, questions had come in. Questions she didn't know how to answer.

“No, Baby.” She told him carefully, sitting down and pulling him onto her lap. Koko could wait. Her son would always be her top priority. “That man in the kitchen is Hajime Kokonoi. He's a friend of mine.”

Kiro nodded slowly, before asking: “Then if he's a friend, why are you mad at him?”

She laughed a little bit at the question, stroking his hair. “You know, how you are angry with me sometimes, because I did something you didn't want me to do? Or how sometimes I get mad with you? With Koko it's the same thing. I can be angry with him and something he did and still be his friend. Okay?”

“Name?!” She could hear Koko call from the kitchen.

With a last cuddle she pulled Kiro into her arms and got up with his backpack in the other hand.

“Now then, lets get you over to old Granny, before Hajime tries kidnapping me, shall we?”

After having thanked the older woman and saying goodnight to her little ray of hope she finally followed Koko outside to his car where he was already waiting for her. The pleasant smile that had been settling in her face almost instantly replaced with a cold anger.

“You know,” she told him, after getting into his car and fastening the seat belt, “I do not appreciate my privacy being invaded in such a manner. Don't do it again.”

Koko rolled his eyes as he pulled out into the street. “Well, I don't like having to wait, yet here we are. Seems we'll just have to live with it.”

Grumbling she settled back into the seat not even throwing a glance down at her thighs as his hands settled back on them. Instead she just grabbed it and tried pushing it off her.

“You've got to be kidding me,” Koko grumbled, his hand not leaving her leg, “you never had a problem with it. What's up with you today? You do understand that I'm paying you, right ? And especially tonight, with my co-workers not knowing that you are a fucking escort you'll need to play a doting girlfriend. So settle a smile on your face and just be okay with my touch. Know your place.”

It nearly made her cry. Koko had never made her cry before. But how often had she pondered over exactly that. Doing the work she did may bring in good money, but it made her feel worthless. Oh how far had she fallen. The exiled daughter of a multi million enterprise.

Just as his hand left her, she made the decision.

Tonight she would play along. As perfectly as her mother did at those functions. She would be the proper eye candy she was supposed to be, doting on the man next to her in the way everyone expected her to. And after tonight, she would tell him that she was done. After tonight, she would cut all ties with him.

It would hurt as hell. He had become a friend after all. But the way he had started to behave just couldn't go on. He had started making her promises that tasted of the golden cage she knew all to well. One that she, unlike her mother, would never end up in.

So, as his hand settled on her thigh once more, she let it rest there.

It would hurt for some time, but it was better this way. There had been building something between them, she long since didn't know how to categorise.

Yes it was better this way.

“You know Koko,” she whispered, just loud enough so that she knew he could still hear her, without letting the tremor sound through her voice, “you've been a dear friend to me. I'm honestly thankful for all the help you've given me.” Instead of answering he simply gave her thigh a little squeeze.

As they pulled into the parking lot, she fixed a happy smile onto her face, checking her appearance in her hand mirror. It needed to reach her eyes.

Think of Kiro. She thought. The smile needed to be softer.

Think of his first steps. Think of last Christmas.

It worked.

As Koko opened the door on her side and pulled his hand out to help her out, she knew she wore the softest smile she had ever worn.

She could see with just a bit of satisfaction how the sudden change threw even him for a loop for a short second.

When Koko lead her into the well lid VIP lounge the first man to catch her interest was the man sitting at the head of the table. He was obviously the leader.

Mikey.

With his black clothes and sunken in appearance he made a stark difference to the other smart dressed men. But even then, he just exuded something she couldn't quite place her finger on. What she did know though, was that it made her tremble.

He had to have a mother out there, right? One that would surely cry if she were to see her son in such a state. She knew she would if Kiro would ever have such an empty look in his eyes.

Next to him must have been the second in command. He had a crazy look in his eyes and the way he seized her up, nearly made her run and hide behind the treasurer. Yes, that was Sanzu for sure. He looked just crazy enough to drive Koko into a fucking frenzy every time they interacted.

Before she could move on to the Guy Koko had once explained to be Kakucho, a movement in the corner of her eye caught her interest.

“Ran-san?!” She couldn't stop herself from calling out upon seeing his lanky figure in the chair. That's right, of course he'd be here tonight. How stupid of her to not remember. He might cause her a few problems in this charade then.

“You know him?” Koko asked her the tiniest bit flabbergasted a question lying on the tip of his tongue. Maybe she wouldn't have found it to sound as offensive if she wasn't still angry with him.

Shaking her head free, she quickly turned to Koko explaining: “We ran into each other at the Park.” her voice was just a tad bit sharper. Just because she was an escort didn't mean she slept with every man she knew.

With that she turned back around and into a deep bow. “I'm so happy to be able to finally meet you all. I've heard so much from my boyfriend. I'm (Last Name), (Name). Feel free to address me in a familiar manner though please. It's a pleasure.”

One after the other introduced themselves after that and for a short moment, she wondered why Koko had wanted her to be there today. Before she could get suspicious though, Ran had made space for her and 'her boyfriend'.

“What a surprise,” he started, a challenging shimmer in his eyes, “I didn't think I would see the spitfire again. Though if I remember correctly, didn't you say you didn't have a man? And now you're here with my dear friend Koko. Makes me worry for him just the tiniest bit. “

She had been right on the nose with this one. He was a difficult one.

A soft grin settled on her lips, as she put one of her hands on Koko's thighs. “I'm sorry Ran- san, but if my memory serves and it usually does, because it is quite good, you never let me finish my sentence. You just assumed. Maybe I just wanted to tell you a second time that I'm not interested, because of the wonderful boyfriend I already have.”

And that was how the evening went. On more than one occasion she had the feeling of being interrogated for something. Challenged in regards to something. The only question was what. What had been Koko's end game as he brought her there, to a dinner that had nothing to do with work.

“When did you two meet each other? And since when are you,” he stopped as if he had to think about a fitting word, “ together?” Rindou asked, a lilt in his voice she couldn't quite place once more.

“We met three years ago. At work actually. My employer introduced us and we just kinda hit it off. What can I say. Hajime is just a perfect gentleman.”

She didn't let her growing frustration show. Instead she listened to the stories they told, feeding Koko with food from time to time, massaging his hands and playing every part the of brainless Bimbo she knew Men like this preferred most of the time, while only taking kitten sips from the glass of red wine situated in front of her.

Another trick her mother had taught her by letting her watch how she handled business dinners with her husband.

Only ever drink so much that you aren't seen as impolite or prude but never too much so that your glass hopefully doesn't get a refill. This way you stay as the one vigilant person in the room, as the other members drink.

Knowledge is power.

“Tell me, (Name) what do you do for work?” Kakucho asked after that. Out of the corner of her eye she saw some of the men straighten just the tiniest bit. Did they really not know? Tonight there had been just a few too many innuendos.

Prepared for the answer she finished chewing before answering him, with a teasingly annoyed glance at Kokonoi: “well, this one would love me to not work at all, I can assure you. But if you need to know, I'm just an assistant. Nothing all that fancy you see. I just remember dates and organise them.”

As the evening dragged on she started becoming tired. After all it wasn't like being a mother was an absolute cakewalk.

At some point after having been asked a question twice, Koko squeezed her arm in an overly affectionate manner, before pulling her a bit into him and addressing the rest of the men in the room. “I think my Darling is starting to get tired, so we better get going. Come on, careful. I'll help you up.”

Still a bit drowsy she slowly got up and bowed towards all of them again.

“Don't you think we should invite them over for a dinner party at our place, Dear?” The question had been out before she had had time to think about it. It was simply another mannerism her mother had installed in her. “When you go out with important colleagues of your husband, you invite them over for dinner.”

And maybe Koko looked a bit too satisfied after the initial surprise. And maybe if she had been just a tad bit more awake, she would have noticed the light nod Mikey had given towards Koko's direction, then maybe she would have seen the nightmare that was brewing on the horizon coming just fast enough that it would have allowed her to grab Kiro and run.

Back inside the car both adults took a deep breath. “That was beautiful. Damn. I knew you were skilled. But this skilled? Shit. I owe you a fucking raise.”

Her eyes still closed,the younger woman only mumbled: “Take care Koko. You're nearly overthrowing me with money while I still distinctly remember Takeomi asking for a pay rise just as few hours ago.”

Koko laughed, as he fished for the certainly expensive blanket he had in his car and gave it over to her.

“Let's get you home first. We'll need to talk again tomorrow, but I really want you to know that I'm absolutely proud of you. You were absolutely beautiful today. That's my girl.”

Silence settled into the car as she slowly fell in and out of sleep. When Koko reached her place he quietly got out of the car, jogged around to the side the younger woman was still sleeping in and carefully first searched for the keys in her handbag, before lifting her out of the car with ease.

It wouldn't take much longer anymore, the treasurer told himself. He only needed to be patient for maybe another two weeks at most. The trap would close around her the moment the deal with the Chinese would go through. And without knowing it herself she had helped him significantly tonight. She would be able to play the perfect part during that dinner, maybe even sweeten up the deal just the tiniest bit. And the moment the dinner would find its end, he would give her something to drink that would just make her fall asleep before taking her home with him.

She'd finally be safe,

The only problem, the only unknown in this equation was Kiro. But he would find a way to make it work. And if it meant buying another house somewhere further away where they could all live together under his protection and control then that would be it. If he thought about it further, maybe that son of hers might even become a blessing.

Only time would tell.

When he reached the bedroom, he carefully put her on the bed.

“Come on now. You gotta wake up for at least five minutes.” He whispered, while also helping her out of her black pumps.

The fabric made him wrinkle his nose. Yes. It would be far better when she finally lived with him. She would never have to wear something so cheap ever again. God it was disgusting.

“Honestly, if I were a better man, maybe I'd understand why you save everything for your kid. But get yourself some damn shoes, woman.” He quietly sneered, as she slowly rowsed from her sleep.

“You still here, Koko?” her voice was a little rough and the man suddenly realised that it actually was the first time he saw her after waking up.

The man laughed lightly as he helped her sit up. “I do need to talk to you tomorrow morning, so I just figured I could stay over for the night. Maybe even help you a bit with Kiro?”

She must have been half asleep still, because she only nodded at him, around five seconds after and then proceeded to slowly get up and walk towards what he assumed to be that bathroom. He heard her rummaging around for a bit and then there was an abrupt silence that lasted a few minutes.

“You alright?” He asked as he walked to the bathroom door to knock.

Another few seconds and the door opened slowly. She was blushing slightly and fumbling with her hands.

“Could you- could you help me with the zipper?”

Kokonoi smiled, turning her around with careful fingers.

As he opened the zipper his hand wandered down with it tenderly caressing the slowly appearing skin. It really didn't matter how often her saw her naked. She was a picture for the gods every time.

Placing a singular kiss upon her neck he abruptly build distance between the two and left the bathroom, closing the door in the process.

He only needed to be patient for a few more days. Then she would be his and there was nothing she could do about it except accept it.

When she woke up the next morning the woman felt surprisingly warm. Her blanket felt softer than usual and the smell was somewhat familiar.

“You woke up earlier than expected.” A grumble could be heard above her and in surprise she wanted to quickly roll over only to be held back by the waist.

That was in fact not her blanket lying above her. That was a very tired sounding Koko.

“What are you still doing here?” She did remember him getting her home and helping her change. But why had he not driven home? And how was it possible for her to be so out of it yesterday night? She had never been this tired in her life before.

“We still need to talk about the Dinner party you offered.”

The what now?

The dinner party?

She offered?

Wait. Yeah. There was something.

Fuck. Autopilot had just taken over at that point and she had done what she had always done. Fuck!

“Koko. I did not know what I was fucking talking about. Can't we just say I was too tired to know what the fuck I was saying?”

Koko's lips drew into a teasing smile, before answering:” Don't worry. I know. I was just pulling your leg a bit. There is something I need to talk to you about though. In about one to two weeks Bonten will close a deal with a Chinese group. We want you there.”

We? So it really had been a test then?

She sighed, falling back into her bed. She didn't dare look at him, as she uttered her next words.

“I'm done, Kokonoi. I don't want to do this anymore. You've been a great friend, a great client but I can't do this anymore.”

Koko stilled next to her for a short second, his hands finding their place around her waist pulling her against him as he sat up.

“Why?” He sounded genuinely hurt.

“Because of exactly this,” she whispered in a tiny voice, gesturing to his hands around her, “I feel like you want more. Hell you even explicitly told me you want more now, for two years straight. And I simply can not do that. My priority is my son and he always will be. You need to let me go.

She could hear his tooth clashing together and felt his grip getting tighter.

“Just do this one last job for me. After that I'll leave you alone. I'll never ask for your service ever again. Just this one last thing.”

Struggling to turn around she finally looked at him. He looked so hurt. And she was the reason for his hurt.

“Will my son be safe?” She asked after some contemplation.

Koko sighed. “If everything goes to plan they will never know you have a son and will never see you again. Nothing more nothing less.”

“Fine.” She finally agreed. She could at least do this one last think for him.

He nodded, placing a soft kiss on her hair. “Thank you,” and then with a playful grin she knew was to underplay his emotions, “that way Mikey at least won't skin me alive.”

With that his arms disappeared around her and she laid back onto her back staring at the wall.

It really would be the last. After that she would cut all ties.

“We can't have that.” She teased back and in turn accepted that he didn't want to deal with his emotions right now.

“Thank you.” The man whispered, leaning over her and stealing a kiss he quickly deepened after realizing she reciprocated.

He build a small distance between them, before asking with a sad smile: “You think you can indulge me one last time?”

Once his plan would be set into motion she would probably hate him for some time. He'd have to take what he wanted now to tide him over.

Gulping she nodded pulling him down to her again.

As she tried rolling them over he put a determined hand on her stomach. Tonight, she'd be under his control.

Leaning down his mouth wandered from her lips to her cheeks, down her neck. She'd finally be his. With that thought, he started sucking on her neck in various places. Finally everyone would know, that she was a taken woman. There wouldn't be anyone else anymore.

One hand found it's place on one of her breasts, carefully stroking the little nub and drawing the most beautiful sound from her mouth.

“No- no marks, Koko.”

She felt him grin at her skin. “You're mine. Everyone should know it. I'll do whatever I want with you.” With that his mouth wandered down and unto her other breast.

He could feel her slowly rubbing her thighs together.

If only she knew what she did to him.

Finally coming out of her stupor the younger woman let her fingers wander over his chiselled chest. Going down, down down.

God, she would drive him crazy one day. He was already straining against his pants, aching to be outside of it's confines.

And then her hand was finally where he wanted it. Slowly stroking him for just the tiniest bit, before ridding him of his pants. God, her hands felt so good.

“You're doing great, Baby. Just breathe. Let me do this for you.” Her voice was sultry in his ears and nearly let him forget everything around him.

“Keep your eyes open, look at me baby.” She ordered, slowly pulling his face up by his chin.

She was blushing. God she was so fucking precious. They had had Sex so many times already and she was still blushing every damn time.

Her face did remind him of something though and with great difficulty he took the hand pleasuring him off him.

“What did I say?” He asked her a slight warning in his voice?”

With a pout she rolled her eyes. “That you wanna be in control?”

He grinned, in turn grabbing her chin and making him look at him. “Very good. And what are you doing right now?”

“Taking control?”

God, that pout did things to him.

“They are a conservative bunch then, I take it?” The woman asked, staring down at the expensive ring Koko was holding out to her with clear dislike.

It was the day of the dinner and since the morning her stomach was simply screaming at her to pack her bags and run. Something was terribly wrong, but she just couldn't figure out what it was exactly.

Koko rubbed the back of his head, before taking her hand with slight force.

“Yeah. A woman wouldn't be allowed at the table otherwise. You'll have to try and get his guard down a little. Be nice to the leader, treat the other executives with respect. You can joke around with them the tiniest bit but don't show them the smart head you have on those beautiful shoulders.”

She nodded along to his explanations, trying not to mess with the expensive cloth draped around her arms and shoulders.

“Let's get this shitshow on the road then.” She mumbled, mostly to herself.

“Hell yeah, that's the spirit.” Sanzu suddenly called behind her. Turning around she realised that the rest of the executives as well as Mikey had arrived.

He was dressed up as well tonight.

So this was the big occasion everyone was making it out to be. Straightening her back she settled a smile on her face.

It was just another mask.

Just another day.

When the six Chinese men arrived, the executives stood up, as she was following Koko's lead she observed the room.

Mikey stayed seated. Bonten probably had the upper hand in this deal then and they probably wanted to keep it this way. All three of the new men, however had a certain glean in their eyes. They would probably be playing a trump card tonight then. She would have to soften them up, before they played it.

“That went much smoother than I expected,” Ran joked as he sat down on the couch, the others promptly following leaving her standing in the corner.

Her mind was racing. She had expected a lot this night. But not Human trafficking. She really had gotten herself into deep shit today.

Mikey's glances in her direction were the ones that concerned her the most.

“You were good, honestly. I don't think they would have been this agreeable if they wouldn't have had such eye candy coming after their beck and call,” Rindou agreed with his older brother.

“Come on. You must be exhausted. Sit down.”

Gulping she slowly shook her head and then addressed Mikey with a sharp bow.

“I am exhausted, actually but I also have a son I need to get home to, so if you'd please just excuse me?”

It sounded much more like an insecure question than she would have liked it to.

The hand suddenly falling on her shoulders made her shake visibly.

“You know as well as we do, that we can't just let you go, after everything you heard tonight.”

Her lip was starting to quiver. What had she thought as she had agreed to this?

Exactly. She had thought about nothing but the nice stack of cash she would get.

“Koko, please,” she turned around to him, “you can't be serious. You know I'd never tell anyone about this.”

Koko smiled, pulling her into a strong embrace.

“I know. But I simply can't let you leave my life. And if keeping you and your son within my walls for the rest of yours means keeping you, then that's a price I'm willing to pay. You should have just agreed to my proposition. I would have let you keep your freedom for just a little while longer. Maybe at some point you even would have agreed to marry me out of your own free will. But you didn't. Instead you said you wanted to leave. It's not something I will ever accept. Your mine now and I won't even let you take a step without me allowing it ever again.”

Her intuition about wanting to break contact had been right.

She had been absolutely fucking right!

“My son?” She croaked out, only now realising. He was supposed to have a happy life. Go to a good school. Meet his peers. Make friends, get a nice girlfriend of boyfriend or whatever. He wasn't supposed to be holed up here.

What had she done?

“Already on his way,” Koko whispered into her ear, stroking her back, “we'll be one happy family.”

As he let go she nearly sank to the ground her legs threatening to give up on her. Only the realisation that she needed to be strong for her son, for herself and because of the other men still watching everything she was able to get back up.

Her mother had always told her that her pride would be her downfall one day. Well, Kokonoi Hajime did not know what would hit him.

Turning around she looked at the white haired man. “What do you plan to do with my Kiro?!”

He shrugged, grabbing his champagne of the table where he had first placed it.

“We'll see. If your agreeable, then he won't think anything different. I'll just be his father. You'll be my wife he'll go to the schools you always wished he would go to and everyone will end up happy. You just have to do what I tell you.”

Everyone would be happy, huh?

Turning around she zeroed in on the open bottle of wine, Ran had opened to celebrate the done deal. With her head held up high, she strode towards it, looking everyone dead in the eye at least once.

After having grabbed the bottle, she turned to Koko, taking a huge sip.

“You're sleeping on the couch tonight!”

He wanted her to be his happy wifey?

Then fine. She would fucking do that. If him being happy meant her son being safe, if him getting what he wanted meant her son getting the life he deserved, then heaven be damned. If him wanting to play fucking family, then she would take on this role. What was another mask after all?

She was back in the golden cage. Only this time it felt like she had given the keys out of her hand herself.

[bixels]

I'm not explaining why re-imagining characters as POC is not the same as white-washing, here of all places should fucking understand.

[notverycolonthreeofyou]

Happy I hate fireworks day 🥳

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 291

You know what? I’m feelin’ a Prompt with the whole halfa family, all the clones and everything. 

See, Danny? He’s grown up, he’s moved out, started looking at colleges himself after spending a few years travelling and learning about himself without the threat of a ghost attack. 

He’s kept in touch with his friends, both living and dead, and ignores Vlad for the most part now that they’ve reached a truce of sorts, and honestly? He’s just living his life. 

But see, it’s kind of hard to figure out what college to pick, with his admittedly not-great choices. Look, he might have a new-ish ID but he’s still visibly not exactly human (though thankfully doesn’t have to worry about the GIW after a�� summer activity that ended with several missing buildings) 

And most people he goes to? Finds him ‘too unsettling’ which excuse him?? How is he unsettling? He’s a twenty-five year old with six kids ranging from one to six! How is that “scary” huh? Ancients, and all this is making him use the cash he’s saved up over time. 

And then- as though all of this isn’t stressful enough and he’s not genuinely worried that he won’t have enough money to feed the kids if he goes to school- a hero nearly trips over Jordan and starts freaking out. He is so fucking done. 

[pearlessance]

The Hand That Feeds - Idle Threats [iii]

Series Summary — Joel has watch duty with Jackson’s twenty-year old, smart-mouthed brat and gets more than he bargained for.

Chapter Summary — Tommy sets Joel up on a date with a lovely, soft spoken, age appropriate woman at the Tipsy Bison. He has a much better time in the restroom with a little girl who can’t keep his fingers out of her mouth.

Pairing — Joel Miller/Reader

Warnings — Explicit sexual content MDNI, brat taming, age gap, mean!Joel, religious imagery and symbolism, catholic guilt, jealousy, light angst

SERIES MASTERLIST

[cross posted to AO3]

When Joel wakes up the next morning, several hours later than usual, Tommy’s already sitting at the table beside Ellie. Maria is there too, smiling affectionately at the two of them as they bicker back and forth about one of the horses in the stables.

“She’s crazy,” Tommy says. “Always buckin’ and snappin’ at people. And she goes on hunger strikes, too. As if we don’t already worry about feeding ‘em.”

“Oh my God, dude,” Ellie grumbles. She stands from the table and disappears into the kitchen. When she returns, she acknowledges Joel as he laces up his boots only long enough to place a plate in front of him and say, “Made you a sandwich for lunch.” And then she turns back to Tommy. “She’s not crazy. You just have to be gentle. Approach with caution, isn’t that the saying?”

Joel thinks of you briefly at Ellie’s words. Approach with caution. It’s fitting, considering Joel tends to lose all morality within touching distance of you. But he’s not supposed to be thinking of you at all, and so he shoves the thought from his head as quickly as it appears. 

But then he thinks he’s been outed, as if his brother could read his mind. “Speaking of crazy,” Tommy says. “Mike’s back from his run so he’ll be on watch tonight. You’ll be free of her from now on.”

He’s not sure why, but it bothers him a little that you’re being referred to as crazy. Made even worse when he realizes his brother is currently comparing you to the broodmare out in the stables. He wants to say something but doesn’t know the words to speak without making himself look suspicious.

Thankfully, Ellie does it for him. “You know, Tommy, I’m starting to think you’re just a pussy.”

Joel knows he should probably chastise her. Especially in front of Maria—who has always been a little standoffish about Ellie and her lack of discretion. But he doesn’t. Joel laughs to himself instead, comforted when his brother breaks out into chuckles of his own. 

“Maybe so,” Tommy says. He stands from the table, and Maria follows him. But when she nudges Tommy with an elbow, he pauses and proceeds to ask, “You got plans tonight? Before your watch?” 

Joel shrugs and takes a bite of his sandwich. “Not really.”

“So you’ll come have a drink with me then? At the Bison?”

Joel hesitates. He’s not sure why—quality time with his brother sounds like a fine time to him. But there’s something in the tone of his voice that puts Joel on edge. “Why?”

Maria answers for him. “To catch up,” she says. “Been a minute since it was just the two of you. You deserve that, I think.” And then she turns to Tommy and raises her brows, a suspicious smile on her face. “You know what? I’ll take your watch for you. Mike and I have some stuff to discuss anyway. You two can have a guys' night.”

He can sense the bullshit from a mile away. All but solidified with the grin Ellie hides behind her hand.

But Joel isn’t in the mood to argue. It’s obvious they’re doing it for a reason, but whatever it is can’t be that bad. Otherwise, Tommy would’ve told him already. “Alright, then.”

“Come help me move this firewood and I’ll buy the first round,” Tommy offers.

Joel agrees, and after making sure Ellie would be occupied and safe within the walls for the day, they set out towards the edge of the perimeter. 

Tommy has the back of his truck bed overflowing with split wood. And truthfully, Joel is happy to see it. Because manual labor is a welcome distraction. Tommy’s incessant talking will occupy his mind and moving the wood from the truck to the stockpile will occupy his hands—both of which have tended to stray towards you as of late.

The only problem is that twenty minutes in, after updating Joel on how domestic his life has become since marrying Maria, Tommy looks over at his brother and asks, “Honestly, I never thought you’d be into the young ones.”

Joel’s chest tightens at the insinuation. He decides to play dumb, even knowing his brother likely sees right through him. “What do you mean?”

He throws an armful of wood onto the pile and puts his hands on his hips. Tommy’s got a light sheen of sweat on his face and a smug expression beneath it. “You had a conversation with her? Seriously, Joel? You think I’m that stupid?”

“Don’t go puttin’ words in my mouth,” he shoots back. “And you should be careful—throwin’ accusations around like that.”

Tommy narrows his eyes. “Is it an accusation?” 

For a split second, Joel thinks about lying. But he’s never lied to his brother in all his life. Evaded direct questions and neglected the truth a little, sure. But he’s never lied, not to Tommy—and he doesn’t want to start now. So, he stays silent. 

It’s answer enough. “Jesus, Joel,” he huffs. “She’s just a kid.”

“You think I don’t know that?” He forces his eyes away from Tommy, unable to face him. He gathers another armful of wood instead.

“No, no. I think you do know. Which makes this whole thing that much worse.” 

Joel has half a mind to snap back at him. His brother is far from perfect, despite judging Joel like he’s got no mistakes made under his belt. But what he’s done is wrong. And isn’t this deserved, after all? Tommy’s allowed to be mad, to be disappointed.

So, Joel lets him cut deep. 

“She don’t know any better,” he says. “Just an angry little girl, lost and lookin’ for someone to take care of her. And it can’t be you, Joel. Not like this. If you wanna…” Tommy moves his hands, swiping one out in front of him. “If you wanna keep her safe, protect her, that’s…ya know, that’s one thing. But usin’ her?”

Joel stops him, spine straightening as he tosses wood onto the pile. “It ain’t like that.”

“It’s cruel, s’what it is,” Tommy tells him. And Joel makes no argument. “I mean, seriously, what d’you expect is gonna happen? You two will, what? Fall in love, live happily ever after? You’re thirty two years older than her. Best case scenario, you live to be, what? Seventy? Seventy five? And she’ll still be around, left with nothin’ for the second half of her life. That what you want? She’s lost enough.”

He hears him. All of it. But Joel wants to know exactly what his brother means with those last three words. She’s lost enough. But now isn’t the time to ask, and Tommy isn’t the one he wants answers from. Joel lets out a long breath and shakes his head. “I told you, it ain’t like that. You think I’d let it go that far?”

Tommy scoffs. “You’ve already let it get this far. I don’t even know what all has happened and frankly, Joel, I’ve got no interest in findin’ out. I’m just sayin’ that whatever the hell’s goin’ on between you two, you’ve gotta put an end to it.”

Joel picks up more wood from the back of the truck. “I know,” he says, piling it on.

“I’m serious.”

“Goddammit, Tommy, I said I know,” he repeats, a little louder this time. “You gonna let me do all the fuckin’ work today or what?”

Tommy, thankfully, lets the subject go. But that painful ache in Joel’s chest? That stays and gets comfortable, makes a home where it doesn’t belong. They move the split wood in silence, though his mind is anything but.

There wasn’t a word untrue in his brother’s little spiel and Joel knows it. He doesn’t know what he wants from you, what business he has with you at all. It’s wrong to even think of you the way he does, to look at you the way he does…and acting on his impulses has been, perhaps, the worst thing Joel has ever done. Worse than killing. Worse than torturing. Worse than any lie he’s ever told.

Because he doesn’t regret it. Not even a little.

No. If Joel Miller could go back to the first day he met you, he’d still stare at that black lace beneath your wet shirt. He’d still admire the snow clinging to the ends of your hair. He’d still drink you in and eat you up and he’d still find an excuse to touch you, no matter what he tells himself.

But that doesn’t mean he can’t grow, that he can’t change. It doesn’t mean that he can’t be a better man, a man worthy of keeping you safe.

And he will, Joel vows silently. He will keep you safe, no matter what he’s done to you in the past. Someone has to look out for you, to keep you from falling off that edge of decency you like to toe so much.

When they’re tossing the last few logs onto the pile, Tommy wipes his brow with the back of his hand and says, “For what it’s worth, I think you deserve to find somebody.”

Joel shrugs. “I’ve got you and Ellie and this place. Don’t need much else, Tommy.”

“I know,” he says. And then again, “I know. But, uh…you know what I mean. Like a woman. Not a girl, but a real woman. Any of these other broads catch your eye?”

There’s something a little like hope in his eyes, and Joel knows his brother too well to believe this conversation is anything but a setup. “Why’re we talkin’ about this?”

Tommy squeezes the back of his neck. “That, uh…you know that drink we’d planned on havin’? It was…it was a lie. Kinda. You know Kelly? Works over at the grocer on Fourth Street. She’s real close with Maria.”

“No,” Joel immediately says, seeing right where this is headed. “No, I’m not doin’ that.”

“C’mon, man. What could it hurt? She’s got it real bad for you, ya know. The whole rugged caveman man thing seems to do it for her,” he jokes. Tommy’s laughing, but the joy bleeds from his face when he sees the threat in Joel’s eyes.

“I said no.”

When Joel turns to walk away, deciding to skip any quality time with his brother altogether for the sake of his sanity, Tommy grabs his shoulder and pulls him back. “Joel, look. Just…give it a shot. Kelly’s a real nice girl. Real pretty, too. Real young.”

Joel narrows his eyes. Thinks about clocking his brother in the goddamn nose.

Tommy laughs again and shakes his head. “Alright, I’m sorry. That was a little uncalled for,” he admits. He raises his hands in surrender. “All I’m sayin’ is it could be a good thing to put yourself out there a little. Get her out of your system.”

Joel doesn’t agree. There’s no erasing you, no scrubbing his hands clean. He’d made sure of it because he never wants to forget you. Never wants to wake up beside a lovely, soft spoken, age appropriate woman like Kelly one day and realize the taste of you has faded from his mouth, that the feel of your fingertips pressing into his flesh is nothing but a whisper of a memory. 

He’d consumed the forbidden fruit not once but twice, all to ensure he’d always remember the taste of ambrosia.

So, no. Having a drink with Kelly would not get you out of his system.

“Tell you what,” Tommy says. “You go have a drink or two, see where it leads. And if you decide she ain’t worth the effort, come on over and we’ll crack open that bottle of Johnnie Walker that I found from the nineties.”

The scotch sounds like a much better idea than facing the woman currently waiting for him, but the longer Joel thinks about it, the more his brother’s words slot together in his brain. Maybe Tommy’s right. About trying, at least. 

You’re too well embedded within him for Joel to ever forget you. But maybe it would help to curb his…urges if he was distracted by someone else. If he wasn’t always so high strung, if he could lose himself within a body that isn’t yours. 

Could he protect you better that way? Protect you from him a little easier? Maybe…maybe it would help. Maybe he could somehow keep you safe without it also being cruel, as Tommy had put it.

And, for you…it was worth a shot. For you, he would try.

“You want a ride back to town?”

Joel shakes his head. Tells his brother he needs the walk back. It’s only a couple blocks to the bar and Joel needs the quiet. Needs the time to think, to convince himself that this might actually work. 

And it could…right? Kelly isn’t bad looking. She’s got pretty blonde hair and green eyes, and her voice sounds a little like a character from a movie Joel watched once. Some southern belle who made pies and sat them on the window sill to cool. 

Even though Joel doesn’t want to convince himself it matters, Kelly is also in her late thirties. Nearly twice your age. Young…but not twenty. 

Joel makes his decision as he steps onto Main Street.

The Tipsy Bison is one of the most popular attractions in the commune. It’s a warm little place. The lights are low, and there’s always some blues rock song playing in the background. The walls are covered in framed photos, taxidermied mounts, old-school plaques. Little momentos all courtesy of Jackson’s population. Joel’s been here a couple of times with Tommy, and he can’t deny the nostalgia it brings up in him. 

It feels like before. Before the outbreak, before the end of the world.

He thinks of you then, wonders how different you’d be if the two of you had met in that world instead of this one.

And as soon as the thought crosses his mind, Joel begins to wonder if he’s fucking cursed. 

Because there, at the end of the round bar, you sit in one of the oak stools. You’ve got one leg folded beneath you, leaning against the bartop with a ballpoint ben clutched between your fingers. You’re writing in that journal you tried so hard to casually hide from him the other day, the one Joel has an insatiable desire to read.

You look beautiful when you think no one’s looking. Lively and youthful, soft and sweet. You’re wearing a pretty black dress with a sparse, white floral pattern printed on it. A jean jacket rests over your shoulders, and it’s a size too big but Joel thinks it fits you just right. Your black socks are bunched down around your ankles, and beneath the barstool there’s a pair of leather boots that sit unoccupied. Your hair falls loosely down your back, and Joel wants to run his hands through it. He knows it’s soft, knows it feels a lot like satin.

But maybe he needs a reminder.

“Joel! I’m so glad you could make it!”

It’s only then he notices Kelly in her yellow blouse. She’s sitting just two seats down from you, sunshiney demeanor grabbing the attention of the rest of the patrons as she calls out for him.

Your whole body goes rigid at the sound of his name. And Joel’s blood ignites in his veins as you turn your head slowly and glance at him over your shoulder.

It’s a simple look, but it feels far from innocent.

Kelly approaches him, and Joel forces himself to look at her instead of you. Forces a smile onto his face, too, despite the obvious sway of her hips. He tries not to think about how her subtle charm isn’t nearly as enticing as your foul mouth. “Saved you a seat,” she tells him.

He lets her take his hand and pull him to the bar. Kelly smells like patchouli and Joel doesn’t hate it. It’s just…not quite right. Too earthy, too warm. He can’t explain it.

The desire to leave already rises in him. This is too much, too uncomfortable. Even though you’re not looking at him anymore, turned back to that leatherbound journal and scribbling intently, Joel cannot take his attention off of you.

Kelly notices. She sits between the two of you, and her head pivots from him to you, and then back to him. Her voice is lower as she suggests, “I know this isn’t the most secluded of places. Do you want to go somewhere a little more private?”

Joel opens his mouth to answer, but you beat him to it.

“Try the northwestern outpost,” you say without picking your head up. It’s resting casually in your left hand as if you hadn’t just blatantly been listening in on a question very clearly not meant for your ears.

“The outpost?” Kelly laughs, a crease forming between her brows in confusion. “Why would we go there?”

“Ignore her,” Joel says.

It’s then that you finally look up from your journal. Your mouth quirks up at the corners as you look only at Kelly. “You’ll like it there,” you tell her. “Trust me. It’s secluded and private, just like you want. I’m sure you two could get up to all kinds of nefarious activities.”

Kelly flushes, cheeks turning crimson at your insinuation. “O-oh…I didn’t mean…”

“What?” You snicker. “Isn’t that what this is?”

“Stop,” Joel orders. And he means it. Hopes you’ll see the warning on his face and take it seriously. But you don’t even look at him, and Joel wonders if this is how Maria feels. Invisible.

He couldn’t survive it for weeks like Maria has. Thirty seconds of it has his skin crawling.

“No, it’s not,” Kelly says. Her face is still pink, but her shoulders are pulled back all the same. She’s confident as she tells you, “It’s a date.”

Your eyes widen at that, brows rising. Joel can tell you’re holding back a laugh, can sense the impending doom that’s bound to follow whatever the fuck comes out of your mouth. And his assumption is proved correct as you say, “Hm. That’s…real interesting. Didn’t peg him for a man who’d be into someone like you.”

“That’s enough,” Joel says through gritted teeth. He’s been able to see right through you from the very beginning, could see that dog-like fight buried beneath your innocent looking exterior. Joel knows you’re a brat, but he’s beginning to think maybe you’re just simply fuckin’ vicious.

Poor Kelly, for what it’s worth, retains her composure. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Your voice is sickly sweet, sarcasm almost undetectable in your answer. “You’re just so…so nice , Kelly! And so pretty, you know? Like, uhm…hm. How to put it…” You tap your pen against your journal as if you’re real deep in thought. Joel can hear the words before they leave your mouth. “You’re just so lovely and soft spoken. And Joel’s…well, Joel’s Joel.”

Kelly giggles and actually thanks you, completely unaware of the insult in your sugary words. And then she shrugs and says, “You know, sometimes opposites attract. Right, Joel?”

It feels like a kick to the chest when you finally, finally turn your eyes on him. It knocks the air from his lungs, the flicker of spite in your expression more threatening than that of any rabid dog he’s ever encountered. You smirk and repeat Kelly’s words. “Right, Joel?”

His heart is beating so fast he thinks it might explode. Unfortunately, however, it doesn’t, and Joel is left with the two of you staring right at him, expecting an answer. He swallows hard and says, “...Right.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then.” You stand to your feet, gathering your journal and pen in one hand and your boots in the other.

Joel watches you sit on the other side of the bar, further out of earshot this time. The bar is too small for you to sit anywhere and not hear them, but the effort is there. And Kelly, it seems, is satisfied with it.

“Sorry about that,” she says to Joel, voice lowering to a whisper. “Have you met her before? She’s kind of a recluse. Sticks to herself. Bit of a troublemaker, really.”

He hardly hears her, ears finetuned to pick up the cadence of your voice as you speak to Tara who’s tending the bar. You laugh at some joke she makes, and order ‘that one drink that doesn’t taste bad but has all those different alcohols in it. What’d you call it last time? A long island?’

“Anyway,” Kelly says. “Can I admit something to you?”

Joel, genuinely, could not give a fuck less about whatever she’s going to say. But he forces himself to pay attention to the woman in front of him and not the girl at the other end of the bar. “Sure.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d show up,” she says.

Me neither, Joel doesn’t.

“She has a point, you know. I feel like we don’t have much in common. But…I like you, Joel,” Kelly confesses. She sets her hand on his arm, fingers squeezing lightly. 

And it’s wrong. It’s all fucking wrong—too soft, too tender. Not enough claws. Not enough you.

But that’s not fair, is it? Joel isn’t hear to compare the two of you. He’s here to try. For you. For your safety.

He tries to give her a warm smile, knows it comes across as more of a grimace. “Yeah,” he sighs.

“So, how do you like Jackson so far?”

The small talk is slowly killing him. “It’s great,” he says honestly. “I think it’ll be good for Ellie.”

She nods. “Of course. I’ve heard a little about what you two went through to get here. It must’ve been hard, a young girl like her.”

“Ellie’s strong,” Joel says.

“Oh, I’m not disagreeing,” Kelly defends. “I just mean girls that age can be a little unruly. Best to have a routine, you know? So they don’t end up like that.”

Joel almost pressures her then, urges her to say exactly what she’s thinking. He can read between the lines, knows she’s referring to you and your bad behavior. Joel wishes he could come to your defense. But he can’t, so he just says quietly, “Yeah.” 

He’s not adding much in the way of discussion. He knows he should be asking about Kelly, about her family or her pastimes or anything. But he doesn’t care, and he doesn’t have it in him to pretend he does. He’s thankful when Tara approaches and asks if they want to order anything.

Kelly orders a Coke, and Joel orders a double whiskey neat.

Tara sets them down in less than a minute, and Joel’s already tossing his back before the glass can touch the bartop.

She eyes him suspiciously for a moment and then carefully asks, “Do you…drink a lot, Joel?”

“No.”

You burst into a fit of rambunctious laughter, trying to play it off like a cough at first. But your amusement is loud and obnoxious and you’ve got one hand over your mouth, and you quickly give up pretending to be polite. When you notice they’ve both turned to stare at you, Kelly with her brows knitted together in bewilderment and Joel with that signature scowl on his face, you wave your hand in dismissal. “I’m sorry,” you choke out through your giggles. “I just remembered something funny. Sorry, I’ll be quiet.”

Joel turns back to his date, but sees you stand out of the corner of his eye. Watches you disappear down the hall to the back of the bar.

“Oh, okay. Well that’s…that’s good,” Kelly says. “That you don’t drink. I don’t either.”

He nods once. Clears his throat. Prays silently for this awkward atmosphere to dissipate. 

“Maria told me….uhm, she told me you had a daughter.”

Nope.

Joel’s barstool scrapes against the floor noisily as he rises to his feet. “Been a while since I’ve had something so strong,” he says, nodding to his empty glass. “Whiskey went right through me. I’ll be back.”

He finds you right where he expects. You’re in the dimly lit restroom at the back of the bar, standing with your back against the counter, hands braced behind you. Joel catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror above the sink and thinks he looks a little untamed, a little feral. You’ve got a playful smirk on your face as if this whole situation is just so funny, and it rubs his nerves raw. “You need to leave,” he says, standing as far away from you as possible.

You don't comment on his words. Don't even acknowledge that he’s said them. “Kelly, Joel? Really?”

No, not really. It’ll never be Kelly. Not the one he ends up with, not the one he distracts himself with. Joel knew as much the moment he set foot in this bar. But he doesn’t correct you—he’s too busy trying to get himself under control. Too busy trying to stop staring at your bare thighs, at the space where they disappear beneath the seam of your dress. He’s too busy praying to a God he stopped believing in long ago, begging for strength.

Because he’s all out of options. Nothing he’s tried has worked, and Joel knows now that it’ll take some divine force to keep him from you.

“I didn’t take you for the kinda man to move on so fast,” you continue. “I wonder if Kelly knows where you spent your night.”

“Stop that,” he warns. “That ain’t fair.”

“Fair? And you somehow think you being here, flaunting her like that in front of me is?”

“I’m not flauntin’ anybody.”

This has got you worked up, Joel can tell. So much so that he can see the pulse throbbing in your neck from here. “You’re an asshole, dude. Seriously.”

Joel stiffens at the curse word in your mouth. But he doesn’t do or say anything about it. It’s not his place. Not anymore. He made sure of it. “We can’t do this. It ain’t right.”

“You can’t,” you correct. “Don’t put this on me, Joel. You do what you have to do—but don’t make it my fault.” 

“I’m not blamin’ you,” he insists. Anger rises in him, hot and uncontrollable. It’s not your fault and it never has been. Joel hates that he’s somehow put the idea in your head and he aches to set it right. You’re not the problem. He is. Joel and his inability to keep his hands off you. 

“Yes, you are.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, the fuck it is.”

“No, I’m—” Joel stops, sighs heavily, presses his fingertips into his throbbing temple. “Will you stop and hear me out for one second?”

“Mm…let me think.” You’re grinning like this is some kind of joke. It only serves to annoy him more. You tap your index finger against your chin in a forgery of contemplation and then say, “Probably not.”

And Joel loses it. He crosses the small room in just two steps, grabs your face in his hand and tilts your chin upwards, forcing your attention to remain only on him. “I’m not askin',” he says darkly. It’s a wretched thing on his part that he enjoys the flash of unease in your eyes, but Joel’s too angry to think too deeply about it. “Now, you’re gonna shut that pretty mouth of yours and listen. You understand?”

You look up at him through your lashes and Joel’s weak in the knees. While your eyes are shining and bright and painfully innocent, your response is anything but. “If you want me to shut my mouth, then maybe you should put something in it.”

Joel swallows as you reach below his belt. He catches your wrist in his hand seconds before you find evidence of just how much you affect him. A hundred images flash through his mind— fantasies of what he wants to do to you, how badly he wants to defile you. He wants to push you to your knees and force himself down your throat. Wants to wake up to your mouth around him. Wants to feel your tongue on the underside of his cock, familiarizing itself with the veins there. He wants to peer down at you beneath the dinner table, that sweet mouth of yours drooling for the sustenance only he can provide. Wants to finish at the back of your throat with the taste of you on his lips. “Enough,” he snarls, equal parts to himself and to you.

“What’s wrong, Joel? You don’t like it when I’m mean to you?” Your voice is sugary sweet, that same subtly sarcastic tone you took with Kelly. But then it falls away, all radiance bleeding from your words. “Join the fucking club.”

It’s then he sees it—the slight tremble in your bottom lip, the way you fight against your watery eyes, the slump in your shoulders. You’re not being bratty just to make him mad. You’re doing it because you’re hurting. Seeing him here with another woman has hurt you, and Joel feels his heart crack behind his ribcage at the realization.

He knows he doesn’t have to explain himself, knows he probably shouldn’t. Knows it would be best to just let you hurt for a little while until you decide to hate him. Because if you hate him Joel won’t have such a hard time resisting you. He wouldn’t be begging the divine forces for strength to hold himself back if you were pushing him away. 

But he can’t let you be hurt if he has the power to fix it, either. He should. But he can’t.

His grip on your jaw softens. “I didn’t know,” he says. Joel wills his fingers to stay still but they, like you, don’t listen to his wisely spoken advice—his thumb strokes your cheekbone, his pinky presses against your throat to feel the flutter of your pulse. “They set it up…Maria and Tommy. I didn’t know.”

Your stare is hard, but he sees the long breath you release and knows that his confession has done its job. “And that’s somehow supposed to make this better?”

“No, I…” He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know the words to make this right. “I’m just sorry s’all.”

Your eyes narrow just slightly, searching for something on his face. A lie, maybe—but he would never lie. Not to you. He feels the coil of anxiety that’s weaved itself around his neck loosen as you place your hand over his and lean into his touch. “Joel, why did you follow me here?”

He doesn’t know.

Or at least, that’s what he’s been telling himself. 

But as he stands here now, holding you close, slipping his free hand around your waist and resting it against the curve in the small of your back, Joel can admit the truth. “I can’t stay away from you, baby.” 

You stare up at him so beautifully—a perfect picture of innocence, the most mouth-watering fruit he’s ever seen. You press a tiny kiss to the pad of his thumb, bringing his hand down lower, just beneath your jaw. “No one’s making you go anywhere,” you say. “You can stay right here.” 

Joel stares at you, entranced, forgetting that too much of a good thing can turn to poison, as you press your lips to each of his fingers—index, middle, ring, pinky, and then repeat the action in reverse. He feels a little like he’s being worshiped. It makes heat bloom in his chest, warming him from the inside out.

You’re right. Joel hates it when you’re mean. To him, anyway. But you make up for it when you’re being like this; sweet and kind and angelic, his perfect little girl. Ambrosia-flavored venom, Joel thinks. “I can’t,” he says. 

And then your soft tongue darts out between your lips, licking up his middle finger, and Joel’s breathing turns heavy. You watch him tremble as you pull his hand closer, leaning forward to take his finger into your mouth.

He shudders at the softness of you, at being inside of you. You’re so pretty like this, Joel thinks. With his finger in your mouth, the low lights reflecting in your hair, eyes wide and desperate. “Fuck,” he breathes, drawing out the word. 

You pull your head back, mouth hanging open. “Language,” you scold. And Joel laughs lightly, and you mirror the sound, and then he’s lifting you onto the counter, and this time you take both his middle and index finger into your mouth and Joel is moaning.

It feels so good. It’s so fucking good that he could die . Pretty girl sucking on his fingers because it’s the only part of him he’s allowing you to have in this moment. But he knows how badly you want more because Joel does, too. Wants to feed you his cock, wants to fuck you right here in this bathroom with your panties pulled to the side and his date waiting out there for him.

But no. No. You deserve better than this. Better than a sleazy bar bathroom, better than to be kissed only in secret. Better than him. “We can’t, baby,” he whispers. 

You only hollow out your cheeks in response, sucking his fingers in deeper. Joel lets you because he can’t bring himself to stop it. 

“I’m sorry, I…it ain’t right. It ain’t…you’re too young, sweetheart. You know what…goddamn, you know what people will say? About the both of—both of us?” Joel moves his free hand from your spine, rests it on the inside of your thigh instead. “They’ll think I’m some dirty old man, touching’ you like this…they’ll say I’m a pervert, that I’ve got no business bein’ near you. And they won’t be wrong, baby, don’t you get that?”

You squeeze your thighs together and tilt your hips forward, whimpering sweetly around his thick fingers in your mouth. Your eyes are pleading as you grab his wrist and slip his hand beneath your dress.

Joel can’t help himself. He presses hard against your clit, grinning at the little whine you let out in response. “Y’like that, hm?” You’re nodding and Joel’s mouth is watering and he knows he shouldn’t but, fuck, he has to. “You know what they’ll say about you?”

When he moves your panties to the side his fingers glide through your slit easily. You’re so wet, so fucking wet and he can’t wrap his mind around the fact that it’s all for him. Your head falls back, thudding softly against the glass mirror. Your chest heaves and your breath is hot against his drool-covered palm. 

“They’ll call you a slut, baby,” he whispers tenderly. “They’ll say you spread your legs for any man who gives you attention, and that ain’t what you want, is it?” Joel rubs circles around your clit, feeling it throb beneath his middle finger. His hand moves fast, desperate to get you there, to take that ache away. “We can’t have that, sweetheart. You know why?”

You shake your head, tongue sliding between his fingers. Joel pushes them in deeper.

“Because if anyone but me ever called you a slut an’ I heard about it?” He presses your clit harder, grinning when you start panting. “I’d have to kill ‘em, baby.”

A whimper leaves you at that. Joel chuckles darkly as you lift your legs, trying to find purchase on the countertop to no avail.

He wonders if you think he’s joking. Joel knows he’s not.

“C’mon. You got it. Legs up,” he says, nudging your knee with his shoulder. When the heel of your boot catches the edge of the counter, he helps you with the other one and praises, “There you go. Spread ‘em wide, baby.” 

Joel’s cock throbs in his jeans, painfully hard, pushing against his zipper. He ignores it because the second he gives it any thought he’ll be pulling it out and indulging himself in you as if last night meant nothing. And it can’t mean nothing. 

His name is muffled in your mouth as you whine, but Joel knows what you’re trying to say. He knows how close you are, can feel it in the needy movement of your hips.

“S’okay, I know,” he whispers. He allows himself to appreciate the way you look with his fingers in your mouth for one more second before hooking them around your jaw and pulling your face toward his. Your eyes flutter open, but there’s nothing but blind trust in them. It makes him feel bruised, tender, devoted. 

And then he takes his fingers out of your mouth, reaches down, and slides them into your pussy instead.

Joel kisses you hard, echoing the sound of your moans. You taste a little like alcohol and a whole lot like addiction, and he’s never been so thrilled to have a fix. He drinks you in, tongue sliding against yours, licking into you like it’ll be the last time. Joel knows it won’t be, and he wonders why that thought is so goddamn comforting. 

Your legs begin to shake. One of them slips off the countertop. “Joel,” you whimper into his mouth. “Joel, I’m gonna come, I’m—”

“Go’head, baby, c’mon. Give it to me.” His fingers are covered with your drool and slick, pooling in his palm as he strokes that spot inside you that makes you writhe. He’s still circling your clit with his other hand and keeps up a steady pace. When your fingers tangle in the dark curls at the nape of his neck and pull, Joel just kisses you harder despite the ache it brings.

“Ohh, God, God, Joel, please don’t stop, don’t stop—!”

He feels your walls clench around his fingers and Joel lets out a moan of his own, his cock convulsing in his jeans. “Yeah…there you go. Good girl, baby. You listen so fuckin’ good when you’re all full’a me, don’t you?” He fucks you through it, relief reverberating through his ribcage with the sounds you make. “Sweet little thing, just need ta’ be told what to do, ain’t that right? Hm?”

You moan his name one final time, and before your breathing evens out you’re pulling his flannel out of his jeans and tugging at his belt buckle. “Joel, please, please, please.”

He thinks you beg so prettily. He thinks he doesn’t deserve it. Not your attention, not your desperation, not your trust or admiration. Yet he doesn’t stop you, even knowing he should. 

Never in his life has he wanted someone so badly. And never in his life has he wanted to protect someone so much. It’s an impossible task. One he’ll undeniably fail over and over and over again. He thinks about his conversation with Tommy and his gut wrenches.

But then you look up at him and all doubt ebbs away, fading into nothingness. Joel knows this feeling. Had nearly forgotten it, in truth. But it hits him like a freight train now, like a bullet to the head. You smile at him and Joel feels heat stain his cheeks and it’s here, here, in this sleazy bar bathroom that he remembers what it feels like to be cherished.

And it’s been so long, so very long, that Joel’s forgotten until this very moment just how hungry for it he’s been.

What’s a starved man to do but devour?

You carefully snake your hand beneath his jeans. Your fingers are soft, delicate, as they wrap around his hard length and squeeze. There isn’t a second that you look away from him, and he wonders if you can read his mind, if you can see the shift in him, if you can hear all his rapturous thoughts of admiration.

The leather of his belt bites deliciously into his hips with the extra pressure. Your hand begins to move, stroking him softly. Joel’s eyes almost roll to the back of his head, but he resists because he doesn’t want to forget this moment. Doesn’t want to look away from you. He reaches up and takes your face in his hands. “You’re so pretty, baby,” he says, kissing you softly. “Keep goin’, just like that.”

Just a few quick touches and he’s melting; putty in your hands, unable to catch his breath. “Like this?” You squeeze him harder, stroke him faster, and Joel groans. “Am I doing good?”

He doesn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed as he explodes so quickly at the sweet sound of your voice. “Fuck, sweetheart— mm, so good. Such a good little girl, shit.” 

A pretty smile graces your face as he coats your hand in stickiness, satisfied with your work. You draw out every last drop until he’s trembling, and even then you make no effort to slow your movements.

Joel grabs your wrist to still you, every inch of him overly sensitive. And when you wiggle your hand out of his jeans you giggle as you lick up the mess he made. He can’t take his eyes off of your pretty pink tongue as it slides between your fingers, the filthiest thing he’s ever seen. 

When you’re finished, you push yourself off the counter and straighten your dress. “I get it,” you say quietly. “Why you don’t want to be with me. I mean…I don’t really, because I don’t give a fuck what any of these people have to say about me.”

It nearly gives him whiplash. Joel doesn’t understand how you can be licking his come off your fingers one second and go right back to being angry with him the next. But that irritation has slipped back into your voice with a vengeance, leaving Joel at a loss.

“So, I guess I get it, but I don’t understand,” you continue. “I did tell you this would happen, though, didn’t I? Gave you the idea, most likely. So…you know. Go ahead. Go have your date with Kelly. Go find an age appropriate woman, and I’ll find an age appropriate man, and we’ll just—”

“No.” His voice is dark, leaving no room for argument. The thought of you with someone else brings up a fiery rage in him, burning his insides, leaving nothing behind but bloodthirst. “Don’t be like that.” Please. He doesn’t want to lose this place. He doesn’t want to lose you.

“No?” You shake your head. “I’m not going to wait around for you to make up your mind about me, Joel.”

You shoulder past him and walk out of the door without another word.

Joel feels the loss like a knife.

[part two] [part four]

[spiteful-sapphic]

little creature vs overhead lighting

[kizzer55555]

Ultimate Escape Room

Sam, Danny, and Tucker are bored. Nothing seems to be a challenge anymore. Summer vacation is coming up but they can’t agree on anything . Themepark? What’s a better roller coaster than Jack driving? Scary movie? I’m sorry, nothing beats Fright Knight’s nightmare realm. Bungie jumping? Danny can fly. Then Tucker, who’s been typing on his computer, asks “what about an escape room?”. The others are about to shut the idea down because seriously? Easy. But Tucker just grins and shows them his computer screen.

“Ever heard of Arkham?”

Danny and Sam lean over to read the description and all three turn to each other and grin. 

Now, what’s the fastest way to get into Arkham?

…

So the chaos trio do ✨something✨ that gets them locked up in Arkham and then try to escape and they keep. You know, normal stuff for Arkham inmates. Except this trio? Keep. Getting. Out. Of. Their. Cells. So they are just passing by locked up rogues and waving at them as an army of prison guards chase after them. Sure they could get out the easy way (Aka powers) but no, this is a challenge so they have the normal rules of an escape room. Aka, you can’t break anything and an extra rule where if a guard catches you, then you can’t fight back (also, no one can get hurt). (They make fake identities and everything). So they need to go through the whole process. Figure out how to unlock cuffs. Could be learning to pick a lock with a spoon/stick/long nails. Then find the keys. Possibly having to crawl through vents to get in the warden’s office. Or making deals with prison inmates. Like, I’ll get this for you if you give me that (however they extract a promise that the rogue can’t kill anyone with whatever they help them with.) So they are in prison literally doing errands like find freeze’s weapons in exchange for him telling them the passcode to the gate or something. Or getting Waylon some meat from the cafeteria and he’ll break the lock on this movable vault that has materials to make smoke bombs they can use to distract the front guards. 

These kids are just going wild and it gets to the point where Arkham has to call the bats (like no Waylon, we won’t escape with you, we have to do it without breaking any walls!) So literally the only reason they are not escaping is because they want to do it ‘right’. But they are also aiding other rogues in their escape (at least certain ones. They aren’t helping joker no matter what he offers)

It’s driving the bats mad. They have vigilantes stationed in each hall, in multiple monitor rooms.

They aren’t even using anything clever to block the cameras. They’re using mirrors. Mirrors! Where did they even get so many handheld mirrors! 

They are running circles around the bats. The escaped rogues literally aren’t doing anything yet because they want to see how the three hellions will escape the entire bat clan. They have bets going. So there is a temporary truce.

Just imagine the conversations/interrogations the bats will have with trio, trying to figure out their master plan - because surely there's something more going on than three chaos young adults playing a game, right?

They trio each have a different story. And they are so passionate/convincing actors that no one knows which story is real. At least one of them told a sob story with legitimate tears.

Danny: (all mysterious) You shall never know our master plan….until it is too late. And just casually dropping hints that there is something greater or that the bats are playing right into their hands. Even using ridiculous scenarios like yesss the ketchup explosion in the cafeteria….We are one step further….Mwa ha ha! (Rubs his hands together)

Sam: (absolutely distraught with literal tears running down her face and ruining her mascara.) There is a terrible organization holding their parents hostage. They had been framed and forced to be in Arkham. If they don’t do exactly as they are told, their loved ones are in danger! Should we stay? Should we escape and help them!? No one will believe us and what if we make things worse? We don’t know what to do!

Tucker: (takes a long slurp of a smoothie. Where he got one? No one knows). Yeah we were bored and had nothing better to do than mess with you guys. (Sluuuuurp).

The bats are trying to figure it out. Is the black haired guy telling the truth and the other two are just manipulating them? Is it the girl and the others are only following the plot of the organization? IS THE BARET KID RIGHT AND THEY’RE JUST MESSING WITH US!? WHICH STORY IS IT!?

Under normal circumstances, Sam wouldn’t give a sob story because It’s not really her vibe. But Sam has the opportunity to pull one over on a bat. Do you honestly think she won’t take a chance to mess with them? Also, Dick is the one who is interrogating Sam.

He’s crying too by the end of the story.

Poor guy, Sam will play his heart like a fiddle. 

Also, their fake identities are Jordan for Danny. Mortica for Sam (or Macey for short) and Phineas for Tucker. The fact that they are using fake identities is the only thing they all agree on in the interview. But the bats find nothing on them and the identities are so realistic they wonder if they are even fake at all. If the three are faking fake IDs to throw them off their tail from looking deeper. Apparently their ‘parents’ having a missing persons report.

Damian is interrogating Danny. It’s just so easy to rile him up and get under his skin. It’s absolute drama in that interrogation room. 

Danny: ah yessss. Master plan.

Damian: you shall never succeed! Justice shall prevail evil scum!

And Duke is interrogating Tucker. He just…has no idea how to respond to this. He wasn’t trained for this response. Hostile, yes. Mysterious, yes. Scared, yes. Civilian, yes. Even Flirtatious! YES! But not…this. What does he do? should he take out his note cards?

Also, I’m adding a mix of home alone elements to this. They have to get past the bats somehow and it can’t be lethal. Poor Jason and Steph who are patrolling the halls fall victim to most of this.

At one point, both of them are tied up together and hanging from the ceiling. While the trio just casually walk by under them. 

It’s dental floss. Really strong dental floss.

Then the bats start taking sides. 

Jason? once he hears Sam's story, he's immediately willing to help her. He and Dick are searching for that missing person's report almost religiously.

Tim believes Danny's story. part of it is because it makes the most sense, and the other part is that he's slightly biased from becoming an evil megalomaniac in every timeline he's seen so he's subconsciously trying to stop that from happening here.

Cass believes Tucker because come on, it's Cass.

Steph is siding with Tim because her father was cluemaster so same reasons.

Bruce is trying to fact check all of them and is failing desperately.

Sam added some ‘clues’ in her interrogation and basically threw the GIW under the bus as the organization. So the bats do find a shady organization but so far no missing persons so the other bats still don’t know if what Sam is saying is true or not while Dick takes this as absolute proof and Jason feels like it doesn’t matter if she’s telling the truth at this point. It’s a corrupt organization. So he’ll still blow it up.

I think in this AU, the GIW isn’t a threat and more of an annoyance so Sam just plays them up as even worse. Like, she doesn’t say anything untrue just makes it sound worse out of context. Oh yeah, they opened fire on this random kid. (Gregory when they thought he was phantom) Oh yes, they have destroyed Danny’s house at one point. (The prank war with Vlad) Yes, the have an unhealthy obsession with dissecting people. (Even though they are too incompetent to actually catch anyone).

So again, they don’t know if Sam is telling the truth of the organization or they just used this random organization to draw their attention away from the three’s plans (as Danny implied). Possibly an enemy organization or a competitor.

I know everyone makes the GIW a big threat but I decided to change it up. They aren’t a threat but still get obliterated by a pissed off Red Hood and Nightwing.

And that’s  another reason why Sam gives the sob story. Danny and Tucker are great but they wouldn’t actually sick a crime lord on the GIW. Sam? Absolutely would. She does not care what happens to them. They tore up her garden one time with a stray shot. She wants revenge. And sure, she didn’t actually know what would happen to them after the bats find out but she still doesn’t care.

And through all of this, the rogues are sitting back and eating popcorn while Joker screams bloody murder from his cell. 

[13eyond13]

you ever think about how Misa's lack of intelligence and the way she lets her emotions impulsively dictate her actions was kinda constantly made the butt of the joke in DN, yet she genuinely outlived all the dudes and dudettes who were always scoffing at her stupidity. Somehow this is even better to me in that she wasn't even trying to outlive Light and didn't have any particularly high regard for her own life, so it's not due to her secretly being the best strategist of them all intentionally either... Regardless of the author's intent behind it I like that it pokes some holes in their constant smug assertions that you must have the very highest IQ to be the last guy standing in the murder notebook game

[analyticalnonsense]

Lawlight Week- Day 1: Firsts

when some guy on TV calls you a little bitch and you start to feel Actual Emotions for the first time in your life

I wanted to kind of leave it ambiguous as to what exactly Light is referring to here, but rest assured, he has never felt anything like it before he came into contact with that scrunkly man lol

[maximumkillshot]

I Can't Lose You-Part 11

Warnings: Triggering memories of the miscarriage, Some is grabbing, shoving, graphic violent thoughts, Cursing, Bin Loses It, threats, Bin hurts himself unintentionally oh yeah and Han loses it too

Pairing: BangChan x Reader?

Characters: Bin, Soo 😒, Han, Stray Kids, Chan is mentioned quite a bit.

A/N: Happy Birthday @galamxy and I am so sorry to everyone in advanced. This one is gonna hurt, but... BUT I am letting you know ahead of time

I Can't Lose You Masterlist-CLICK HERE

Stray Kids Masterlist-CLICK HERE

ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE. 

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

Previously: “He won’t… too much respect… I however,” I stated very matter-of-factly, “Have a very hard line, Soo. I don’t touch women in any violent way ever… But if anyone messes with my family and with whe people I love? All of a sudden gender is irrelevant… So the next time you speak, I recommend you speak with that in mind.” I saw the blood drain from her face, I felt a new level of base in my voice. The anger is starting to reach a level I can’t control.   Minho added on with “Usually I’d have too much respect. That was before what you said about Y/N.  About her losing the baby being a good thing. That it’d make the divorce less messy…” My eyes went wide as my heart dropped on the floor, shattered. When did this happen? How did this happen? I looked away from Soo for the first time, “I don’t think I heard you correctly… She said WHAT?” 

Now:

I can’t believe that this came out of her mouth. Given I never would’ve expected this type of behavior from her either but here we are. I looked at Minho’s face and I could tell he wasn’t lying. I looked at Hannie who was sitting on my opposite side and his face said the same. 

If I wasn’t sitting I would have probably collapsed. I went from a relaxed position to leaning forward, cracking my neck as I tried to contain my rage. I wiped my hands down my face, Changbin, calm down, I told myself. I went back to what Seungmin told me, “You promised her you were coming back.”  

I heard Hannie say… “Wait.”

When I looked at him, his mouth was open in utter disbelief, “You knew…” he said to Soo… When I looked back at Soo all I saw was a smile creeping onto her face, “You knew they were trying to conceive?! When Chan told you, there was no gasp of shock, no condolences… even now…  You’re smiling because you knew…”

Soo smiled saying, “How do you think Chris and I started talking in the first place? It was clear she was broken, now the outside matches the inside. Maybe this will be a warning for you.” She looked at me, “She’s damaged goods, don’t you want to know what it’s like to be a dad?” How dare she. I looked at Han as he stared daggers at her. Hannie is not known for becoming angry, but he looks enraged at what Soo just said. I looked back to Soo.

I looked into her eyes as I wondered what she meant by that. ‘She’s damaged goods, don’t you want to know what it’s like to be a dad?’ I’ve never been good at hiding my fondness for Angel, that’s for sure, but I don’t know where she’s getting at. Angel has only had eyes for Chan, her person… hurt my person.

 I don’t know why she would throw something like her fertility at me like it’s some deal breaker. It isn’t. I could live in a shack with nothing except Y/N and I would be the richest man on the planet. Children would be nice, but if it meant giving her up, I don’t need kids, I need her. This is all hypothetical of course.

I was sure she could feel the tension shift as I could feel my face contort from the rage, “So not only are you so fucking desperate that you’ll cheat with your best friend’s husband. Not only will you cheat knowing they were trying to conceive, but when they finally do conceive, after TWO YEARS you say that it was a good thing that child died because it would make the divorce less messy?!” I've never felt this level of rage. It was almost accusatory the way she threw Y/N’s fertility. Like because she didn’t get pregnant, that’s why they cheated. 

I am feeling so many levels of disdain, hurt, and disbelief. How could anyone say that about anyone else? It is unfathomable to me how someone could hurt someone else like this. How someone could think that let alone voice it. That takes it to a different level of disgust for me. 

Han sighed as he said, “And you sit there, almost blaming Y/N for your sins? For Chris’ sins? You don’t know anything about what she’s been through. Constantly waiting for Chris, him making her feel like an afterthought,” Han added on, “telling her he has no time for her, that he has more important things to do. One of us,” He pointed to himself and me, “One of us slept in the same bed as her every night because she’d cry to sleep on her own. You know what? We’d do it again. All of it. Because she is worth that and more.” I could feel Han vibrating with emotion. I can tell I’m not the only one that is feeling this. 

I tacked on, “Meanwhile he’s cheating with you,” I scoffed, “Talk about trading in a diamond for a piece of glass. You are the lowest of the low. She isn’t broken. You two are!” I took a breath, “I don’t know what to do with what you’ve done. I’m hurt and angry, and I’m not even the one who was cheated on!” I barked at her.  

The images of me doing things I didn’t want to do started flashing in my head. She isn’t a woman anymore, hell, she isn’t even a person. I could see myself grabbing it by the throat, picking it up, throwing it across the room, and punching, and screaming while I did it. Using its face as a punching bag. I can’t… As much as I want to, I can't.  A sinister, yet just voice playing right next to Seungmin's in my mind, It’s right there in front of you. You’re in pain, agony even… Take it out on one of the people that caused it. No one would blame you. Meanwhile, Seungmin’s voice is still playing, “Don’t make her lose you too.” 

I almost lunged out of my chair before I caught myself. Instead of getting up and doing what I wanted, I screamed, “HOW?! How did she find any humanity in you!? A child died, an innocent child who did nothing wrong…died. Gone, will never have the chance to breathe. Somehow, you view it as a good thing?! THEN YOU COME HERE!!” I could feel every cell in my body burning, trying to just reach across and… “ YOU COME HERE, TRYING TO ACT LIKE YOU’RE HER FRIEND?!”

I looked at her as I grabbed her shirt, I got up dragging her to her feet along with me, “You want to know what I’m thinking right now?” I smiled at her. This felt good. Seeing her realize just how much danger she is in. She thought I wouldn’t move. Like I said before, I don’t discriminate when it comes to protecting my own.

I could see the tears start to form in her eyes as I vaguely heard Han, “Hyung? Bin!”

“I am thinking about how easy it would be to turn your face into a fucking suggestion, make the outside match the inside. Disgusting, putrid, worthless, bloody… Han and Minho are strong, but not strong enough or fast enough to stop me from crushing your windpipe with one hand.” I grabbed the back of her neck, squeezing enough to make it known. 

She yelped as I continued, “It wouldn’t be hard for me. I lift twice your weight for fun.” I laughed, “No one’s here to save you. Especially not your shitty boyfriend… He’s nursing a broken nose at home…”

I felt her body tense, “I don’t want to stop at a broken nose for you…” I chuckled. “I want to send a message so badly. I want to put you in the ICU,” I seethed just inches from her face.“I was happy you stood away but now you DARE walk into here. Demanding to see her, after you say something so vile, so…”  

I could feel Han trying to loosen my grip, I was barely registering anything except her deer-in-the-headlights stare, “Now that you tried to come here when I wasn’t here, trying to capitalize,” I saw that same smirk playing at her lip. “I was going to let you go if I ever saw you again… Now..” I could feel my chest heaving as I said, “Now I want to make it clear to YOU and CHRIS… you come near her… I’ll kill you… I meant it when I said it to him, looks like he needs a reminder. You’ll have to pay for both sins.” She started yelping as I screamed, “SHUT YOUR MOUTH. You have no RIGHT, no SHAME…” I don’t recognize my voice, it’s so heavy, leering… They turned you into this. Show them. 

I heard Minho, “Changbin-ah I know…I want to hurt her too, I want it so badly but we can’t… We aren’t them, Bin.” I shrugged him off as I dragged her to the nearest wall and shoved her against it.

I threw my fist at the wall right next to her head. I felt it vibrate with the hit, “You have no idea what I want to do to you right now. It is taking everything in me not to destroy you.”  She was whimpering as she cried, trying to look away from me. “The pain that I want to put you through is nothing compared to what Y/N is going through. Look at you, a coward that can’t even look me in the eye. She is more than you could ever be.” 

I could feel myself wanting to pick my fist back up and land it on her face so badly. I have never wanted to hurt anyone, until now. The disrespect, the pain, and the absolute lack of empathy make me want to tear her apart. I have been holding in so much pain and agony for so long that I feel like I’m going crazy. I need someone to take it out on. Who better than one of the people who stabbed Y/N in the back? Who else is more deserving than one of the people who killed her child? This makes sense, call it karmic justice. Even breathing just thinking about it feels better. 

I can vaguely hear Hannie… Not like I really can hear much of anything aside from Soo’s pathetic whimpers. For someone so brazen to be this cowering mess, all for seeing me like this. I felt my features soften at that as I smirked at her, even chuckling slightly at the fact that for some reason she decided coming down here was a good idea. If anything this is Darwinism at work, right? A part of me thinks so, at the very least.

If I were to fully embrace this… the impending feeling I knew would cause goosebumps at the relief. Seungmin’s in my head again, “Y/N deserves everything we got.” This mental tug of war makes me feel like I am being torn in half, I just want to cause pain. I want Soo to hurt. I made my decision, Get your relief… It’s not a person…

As I went to shift my weight, I heard “Binnie?”.... Y/N?

I could hear her coming from a phone. That once melodic voice quaking. She was reaching for me. Begging me by only saying my name. My whole body froze, and my vision stopped narrowing, hearing her. “Binnie? Hannie, where's Binnie?” I heard her say again. She sounds so scared. I could tell she had been crying, she needed me. I can’t do this to her. 

I saw Han come into my peripheral, his phone in his hand.

“He’s right here Anya... Binnie’s right here.” Hannie’s voice is so stiff, he’s never afraid of me. I hate it when people are afraid of me. When my eyes flicked to Han I could see the fear. He put his hand on my arm that I was holding Soo’s shirt with. That touch helped me ground myself and see things from a different perspective.

“Why is Binnie not talking Hannie? Did I do something wrong?” I heard her, loud and clear as I tried to gain control of my body again. I wanted to scream,

“No, it’s not your fault, Angel. No, I am just… I’m hurting, Love. I’m hurting so fucking bad and I don’t know where to place it. I only ever went to Channie Hyung when I was in pain. I don’t know what to do knowing he was the one that caused it, Angel. He hurt you, I trusted him to take care of you, you’re my heart… When you cry, I cry; when you hurt, I hurt. You could never do something to warrant me not talking to you. You have never done anything wrong, I love you so much,” My mouth isn’t working as the memories flash. My chest wants to cave in.

“No nothing’s wrong, Anya. Binnie is just listening to your voice, is that okay?” Han asked so gently. How is he so gentle right now? The woman in front of me is one-half of the reason Y/N is here. She’s in my hands right now. The screams replay in my head as I look at Soo, If she knew she never would’ve come here, I’m lying to myself now as my grip tightens on her. 

“Yeah, is Binnie coming back? He promised he would,” I heard her ask. Of course, I’m coming back. She’s my home, how could I leave her? Especially like this. Soo isn’t worth it, and neither is Chan, but I want them to pay. I felt my hand throb against the wall. Feeling the texture as it stands against my fist take some of the haze away. Pleading to Y/N in my head, “I want them to pay, pleeease let me make them pay. Let me make sure they’ll stay away, Angel. I need to protect you, you’re the only part of me that matters.” “Hannie I want my Binnie I’m scared,” I heard her so clearly, I could even hear the sniffles that she would allow to escape every once in a while. I could feel myself at war with what I wanted and what was right. I want to kill Soo, but killing is wrong. So I was stuck there with the love of my life practically begging me to choose her over what I wanted to do. I was trying so hard to open my mouth and try to sound strong but I was three seconds from collapsing. I’m scared too, Angel. I’m terrified. I can’t lose you. I won’t survive it. I’m not me without you. 

“M’here Angel. I’ll..” my voice betrayed me. I cleared my throat, “I’ll be there in a minute. I’ll see you soon,” I felt tears brimming in my eyes as I looked at Soo. I could see the shock on her face, that has to be enough for me. 

At the end of it all, hurting Soo would do nothing. It won't get Y/N anywhere. The pain, the suffering, it's all still going to be there, only she'll have to face it all without me. I can't do that to her. It's not fair, what happened to her. I have to let Soo go, to protect my Angel. That is more than doable. 

Hannie hung up the phone and I looked at Soo as I said, “You aren’t worth any ounce of effort anyone puts towards you. You are a nerveless little leech that sucked the life and kindness out of someone I love very much. You tell Chris what you saw here today. You tell him every detail… Especially this… If you or Chris ever try to come near her uninvited… I will not be this kind again… Do you understand me?”

She nodded violently as I released my grasp on her shirt, instead shoving her by her shoulder to Han, almost knocking both of them down in the process as I said, “Han, get her out of here before I change my mind.” I faced the wall as I tried to breathe. I have never wanted to kill someone more than just now. I’m scared, relieved, and also guilty. 

Just the fact that I was so close to possibly losing Y/N again while I was gone, shot through me like lightning in that car. Now I’m here and the threat’s gone. The original one is. That was relieving, but now I am so guilty.

If Y/N saw me like this, she would’ve been disappointed. Is that the kind of man I am? 

As soon as I register the door closing my knees hit the concrete and I’m blinded by my tears. Who am I? Soo was so scared… and I liked it? I wanted more of it. I wanted her to feel the fear Y/N felt. The pain she feels. Y/N would never want that for anyone. I almost caused her more pain. For what? To satiate my own need? 

“What kind of man am I?” I asked no one in particular as I felt the rage ebbing into whispers, staring at my hands, one already developing bruises from how hard I punched the wall, the other aching from how tight my grip was on Soo’s shirt. An image flashed of when Y/N went limp in my arms, her screams louder than the last time. My shoulders shook with the sobs that left me then. 

I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder as I heard Minho speaking softly, “You are the type of man that would do anything for the woman he loves. You’re the type that takes her pain as your own.”

I turned to Minho and said, “Hyung, I don’t know what to do. I can’t take it away.” my tears started running down my face. All I heard was Minho saying, ‘I got you’ and I let go collapsing on him. 

Minho said right into my ear, “You are a loving, caring person, Changbin. You trusted a person with your own heart and they destroyed it. It’s natural to want blood, Bin. You just proved to yourself that love is more important than revenge. You, Seo Changbin, are the type of man that is rarest of all.” I continued to cry as I held onto Minho, “You are unapologetically you. You live with your heart on your sleeve and you give without asking for anything.” “I can hear it all… Every time I hear her screams, I feel her go limp in my arms, I see the blood,” I gulped in the air, “I wa-want to make it better, Hyung. Why can’t I take it from her?” I asked.

I felt Minho quivering as he sniffled himself, “No one can, I’m sorry Changbin-ah.” I knew that answer. Logically I knew it. “But what you can do..” I looked at him, “You can show her, that loving a person is unconditional. It is as simple as breathing. You show her, that no matter what she can or can’t give you, you’ll be there. Not because you have to, but because you want to.”

I nodded as I tried to stop the tears with Minho saying periodically, “Take your time… Breathe, you’re okay. You’re good.” I was mumbling to myself how I couldn’t believe I thought what I thought and he responded with, “Don’t go there. I’m proud of you for stopping and thinking. That’s what matters.”I wasn’t sure how much time had passed as I heard Minho say, “Let me see your hand.”

I showed it to him. I could see the black and blue forming on my knuckles. When he asked me to make a fist, it was a little painful but not that bad. He smiled as he said “Good news, nothing looks broken… the bad news is there is no way you’re going to be able to hide it from Y/N. So what’s the plan Changbin, any ideas?” His eyebrows went up in question. 

“I’m not going to lie to her, Minho. I can’t.” I said plainly. She is already so fragile and lying wouldn’t help that. I also can’t tell her that I lost it and almost hurt Soo. Given, I was mad, but still. I don’t know. 

His eyebrows furrowed as he smirked, “You know sometimes you’re a little too chilverous.” I just grinned as he continued, “Alright I guess I’ll have to explain it… As far as I’m concerned you slammed your hand in the car door when you were trying to get back here. Sound good?” I nod. 

I heard Minho’s phone go off and I saw Lix’s face on the screen, “one guess” he giggles. He picked it up and put it on speaker.

“MinMin where’s my Binnie?” I heard Y/N loud and clear through the phone. She sounds a little better, I could hear the tease in it. “We were just wrapping up here Beautiful, everything okay?” He asked, smiling at me. 

“Yeah, just Inn-ah trying to eat the last brownie I’m saving for Binnie.” She giggled. My heart swelled. She was saving it for me? I haven’t had one of those in… almost a year now that I think about it.

I heard Inn-ah in the background, “Just a nibble, Y/N?” 

She giggled as she said, “Binnie hasn’t had one in a while Innie, and you live with the guy that makes them.” She laughed. She’s thinking about me? After all of this. She’s focused on me?? I think Minho could see the confusion as he looked at me.

I giggled as I said, “What about the bag of snacks we brought for the boys Seungmin?” I heard Seungmin’s voice loud and clear, “They picked it clean, vultures… I’m surprised the bag’s still there.” I heard Y/N laugh slightly louder. It melted me to my core as I laughed.

I heard Hyunjin say, “Says the one who had a whole pan of brownie to himself. I don’t mind eating clean but had I known I would’ve fought you for that pan, Seungmin.” I could see Hyunjin’s face in my head glaring at Seungmin. 

I laughed as I said, “OK Angel we are on our way. Sorry, it took so long.” I smirked at the phone, I couldn’t wait to see her. I always get this swell in my heart that spreads to all of me when I see her. 

“It’s okay. As long as you’re coming back that’s all I care about.” She giggled. Minho hung up and said, “What happened in this room, stays in this room.” I think he could tell that I was embarrassed about my breakdown. I’m used to being the person that people go to for support. I am rarely the one to need the support. This was Minho’s way of saying my breakdown stays with him. I patted him on the back, silently thanking him. 

When we walked out into the hallway I could see Hannie waiting by the door. Minho motioned for Hannie to come towards us. When he met us Minho whispered, “Follow my lead.” With that we walked back to the room together, Minho leading. When Minho went in he explained the hand injury away, “First thing’s first Beautiful. You’ll notice that Binnie’s hand is bruised, it was an accident, he’s fine and it’s not broken, okay?” He looked relieved as he motioned for me to come in.

When I came in I was met with a gentle smile from her. At that moment I realized something. Soo never told me why she was here. I know why she’s here. Chan was banking on me losing it, seeing her. He was banking on me getting myself arrested or at the very least kicked out so that I would be ripped away from Angel’s side. I smiled wider knowing that not only did I keep my cool, but this experience that he caused just made me want to stick closer to her. 

Every time it feels like the first time I see her. Always takes my breath away. Even in a hospital gown, chocolate remnants on her face. I smiled at her, “Hi, Angel, sorry it took a bit. You have something for me?” I asked as I went to sit in a chair. 

She looked at me with furrowed brows, “I want my Binnie cuddles,” She said as she reached out for me. How could I deny that? I saw Seungmin get up and walk to a chair, sitting down. 

I smiled at her as I nestled up to her in the hospital bed. She smiled as she handed me the last piece of brownie, “It’s the corner piece, your favorite.” 

She looked up at me and wiped a tear from my face, when did I start crying again? “Why are you crying, Binnie?” 

I answered honestly, “I’m so happy to see you giggling and seeing you save this for me. I’m just lucky to know you, let alone be a part of your life.” I dried a tear from her too as I smiled. 

She buried her face into my side as she giggled. That made everyone in the room break out in smiles. The rest of the night was passed in smiles and laughs until eventually, Y/N started yawning. I looked at her trying to fight the sleep until I guided her head to my chest again. She was sleeping before I could even notice. One by one, everyone was asleep except for me. Seeing everyone asleep. I permitted myself to pass out for the night too, and before I knew it, I was out like a light myself. 

_______________________________________________________

WANT MORE? Tell me So! Want in on the tags? Shoot me an ask and consider it done!

[screebyy]

hiera hodos lore....

ID: A comic depicting Mara Sov and Sjur Eido from Destiny 2. Sjur is a tall, muscular woman with light purple skin, and yellow markings on her cheeks. The marks are concentric semi-circles that extend from her jaw to below her ear. She has long, pale blonde hair, with bangs that hang down to her eyebrow. the front part of her hair is braided back to a small bun, while the back of her hair is worn down. Sjur is wearing a reddish-purple coat with a fur-lined hood and a long gray skirt, and is carrying her bow on her back. Mara is wearing a dark purple cloak with gold lining, over an off-white sweater and dark purple pants, with dark brown boots that go up to her knees.

Panel 1: Sjur and Mara are walking up a hill in the Reef, towards the left. Sjur is in the foreground, far ahead of Mara. They are walking on a path that winds up the hillside, all the way from a small settlement in the distance. Asteroids and stars are visible in the sky. It is snowing, and there are several inches of snow accumulated off the path. Mara is saying "Slow down," and Sjur is glancing back at her.

Panel 2: Sjur turns back to Mara, with one hand extended back to her, and the other placed politely behind her back. She is smiling, and says, "I could carry you." Mara is doubled over resting her hands on her knees, hanging her head and exhausted. Text hovers next to her reading "tired" and "tfw tall gf."

Panel 3: Mara is standing slightly straighter but still bent over. She is reaching for Sjur's extended hand hand, smiling with her eyes closed. She says "Don't." Sjur is grinning, leaning towards Mara.

Panel 4: Sjur is tilting her head, grinning cheekily as Mara takes her hand. Sjur says "~ mhm ❤️." Mara looks at her from the corner of her eye, blushing slightly and looking almost shy. Text points to sjur that reads "going to pick you up immediately." A speech bubble from Mara reads "..."

Panel 5: Mara is sprinting dramatically to the right and towards the viewer, blushing hard with a determined look on her face. Sjur is in the background, chasing after her with her arms stretched out over her head and a comically distraught expression. Sjur is shouting "But my queen! My heart's calling is to serve you!!!"

[chimerafeathers]

[ on youtube ]

a concept for the type of OP i'd love to see for the second season of Dungeon Meshi! both s1 OPs are great, but i'm really hoping for one that captures both the "dangerous fantasy adventure" and "comedic cooking adventure" aspects of the series in equal measure, because it's the integration of those two concepts that makes the series special to me. the joyous whimsy and the dramatic horrors are equally important!!

[heyclickadee]

I sort of have a headcanon that Wrecker is acutely aware of how he comes across. He’s a giant compared to every other clone on Kamino and compared to most humans generally, built like a tank, massively strong, has definitely been through something intense—in general he looks like a guy you don’t want to mess with. Someone walks into a bar or something looking to cause trouble, sees him sitting there, and turns around because they’ve just done risk assessment and imagined his fist wrapped around what used to be their skull. He’s intimidating.

And honestly I think that’s part of why Wrecker is so aggressively friendly. I mean it helps that Wrecker is actually friendly, he’s not pretending, I’m not saying that—I just think he plays up Fun Mode just a tiny, tiny bit sometimes, just to put people at ease, or to break up tension.

[starry-bi-sky]

love love love still born au, I want to be your parent but I can’t parent the way you need Vlad and Bruce, Danny is the broken mirror for Damian Bruce and Vlad the RESONANCE bitesyoubitesyoubitesyoubitesyoubitesyou

ow ow owowowowOW IMMA BITE YOU BACK (affectionate) WATCH OUT. And aaaa i'm so glad you like the still born au!! Danny really is going thru it <\3 and you understood the dynamic I'm going for for Vlad and Danny perfectly raaaaah. And for Bruce too!! I'm not still not sure who discovers who first but the pure angst of Danny finding out first and due to his own poor self-esteem and negative experiences jumping to the conclusion that Bruce replaced him is extremely tempting. And even then, Bruce is so emotionally constipated that even his best efforts might just not be what someone like Danny -- who desperately wants to feel wanted -- needs.

and HHHHHh "he's a broken mirror for Damian, Bruce, and Vlad" YEAH. YEAH. Danyal's been a ghost since he was born and Talia told Bruce he was stillborn, that boy is haunting EVERYONE. He's bruce's unaware failure, Damian's 'could've been', and Vlad's mirror. This poor boy, someone needs to burrito him in a blanket and let him sob on their shoulder </33

the worst (best) dynamic imo here is danny and vlad's in the sense that they do earnestly want to be each other's family but their morals are diametrically opposed and so it cant work unless one of them changes. they're playing tug-o-war with the other's beliefs but can't seem to get the other to cross that line.

i am so mentally ill about these two in this au.

[beanghostprincess]

Bakudeku getting extremely more popular and normalized bothers the shit out of me a little bit because I did not spend years of my life hiding that I like that ship out of fear of getting harassed for everyone to now shift so quickly over the last chapters. You like Bakudeku? MY Bakudeku? The one ship a lot of people had to pretend they didn't like in case they got attacked? For a fictional ship????? THAT Bakudeku???

[pearlessance]

Faith in Me - Idle Threats [v]

Series Summary — Joel has watch duty with Jackson’s twenty-year old, smart-mouthed brat and gets more than he bargained for.

Chapter Summary — Joel faces hard truths and discovers you've been assigned an impossible task. He doesn't intend to let you chart your course alone.

Pairing — Joel Miller/Reader

Warnings — Explicit sexual content MDNI (no smut in this part, but in almost every other in the series), brat taming, age gap, mean!Joel, religious imagery and symbolism, catholic guilt, BIG angst in this one, reader shoots at joel, added backstory to progress the plot

SERIES MASTERLIST

[cross posted to AO3]

The following morning, Joel wakes up to a cold bed. The sunlight leaks in through the window, casting rays of yellow across your room. He realizes he’s never seen it like this, all lit up. There’s a mahogany dresser across from the bed, one of those handmade ones that last through lifetimes. There are scuffs and scrapes in the wood stain, but they make it look cozy and lived-in and comforting and warm, just like you. He realizes too, that the sheets on your bed that he once thought were navy are more of a plum—and that, too, suits you.

He turns his head and finds the ripped paper sitting on your pillow. He unfolds it, and inside there’s a note in your scribbly handwriting that reads, I had plans with a friend. When you let yourself out, make sure you lock the front door. 

Joel’s a little surprised for two reasons. One, you allowed him to sleep in your bed, in your home, without you, as if it were his, too. It makes him feel tender yet…territorial, somehow. Like he wants it to be his. Wants to wake up slowly like this every day, with the smell of your shampoo stuck in the sheets and in his skin. And, two, he’s surprised he slept through the night. 

It’s been a long time since he’s done that. It’s been a little easier, being in Jackson, being someplace safe. But while the walls around the commune make sleeping a little less fretful, his thoughts are what keep him up at night. Guilt and shame and all the loss he’s suffered. The memories, the picture-perfect images in his head, the bloodstain that never seems to leave his hands, the sounds of gunshots and clicking infected, and the screams, always the screams. He’s lucky to get an hour or two of solid rest every night. 

But it was dark when he fell asleep cradling your head in his hands. And now the sun is out, blinding him— midday. He feels rested and sated and revived. As if sleeping here, with you, has changed something in him. Altered the chemical makeup of his brain.

Joel doesn’t know how to process it. So, he doesn’t. Instead, he finds his clothes on the floor and does just what you ask. He locks the door behind him, wondering who this friend is that you’ve left him for, wondering if it’s someone he knows, wondering if it’s another older man who’s got morals as loose as he does.

It had been your words last night, though, and that brings him comfort. I’ll only see you.

He believes it. He has to. Because the alternative is…unthinkable. Dangerous.

When he nears the two-story colonial that Maria had given them upon their arrival to Jackson, Joel notices the door to the garage, where Ellie has taken up residence, is propped open. He hears her rambunctious laughter, and his chest pulls tight at the sound. He makes a mental note to spend some time with her soon—her birthday is coming up, and she’s growing so fast, right before his eyes. But Joel wants her to enjoy this phase for as long as she can. Wants her to get a chance to be a kid the way he’d gotten to. The way…the way Sarah will never get a chance to. 

He swallows hard as the thought crosses his mind.

And he knows he shouldn’t, knows it’s an invasion of her privacy, but he lingers outside the garage, wanting to hear that easy happiness in her voice for a little while longer. He expects to hear Dina’s voice, or Cat’s or Jesse’s, or maybe even all three of them. But he hears you instead, and something akin to relief fills him to the brim as he realizes who your plans are with.

“No, no! It’s good!” You’re laughing too, and Ellie mirrors the sound twice as loud. “C’mon, look. Let me see.”

Joel can’t help himself. He peeks into the room, decorated with band posters and paintings and polaroid photos. The two of you sit on the floor with your backs pressed against the side of her bed, knees pulled up with a composition notebook held between you. In your lap lies that journal Joel has seen so many times, the same one he’s been so curious about. 

Part of him is a little envious that whatever you’ve put in it, you’re sharing with Ellie and not him. But he supposes if not him, at least it’s her.

He watches as you pluck the ballpoint pen from her hands, making minuscule edits to whatever it is she’s drawn in her notebook. “There,” you say, handing both tools back to her. “See? You just forgot the hindwings. That’s all.”

Ellie looks up at you, admiration in her eyes. “How are you so good at this? I love drawing but I feel like I suck at it sometimes.”

“It just takes practice,” you tell her. “And I’m not good at drawing. Just these two things.” You pick up the leather-bound journal in your lap and flip through several pages.

“Bugs and bones,” Ellie says, eyes scanning each page and drinking up its contents greedily. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” you echo. “Just bugs and bones.”

She stops your flipping of the pages and points to one in particular. “What’s that one?”

“A moth,” you answer.

“Is that a skull?”

“It’s called a death’s-head hawkmoth,” you say, setting your journal aside and picking up hers instead. You take the pen and speak as you draw on the page. “People used to think because of the markings it has that it was bad luck to see one. That it meant trouble was coming. But, back before the outbreak, some scientists used to study bugs like this exclusively, and some of them wondered how they survived so long because all they do was eat honey. I mean, all they do. They don’t even harm the bees who make the honey. They don’t have fangs or claws, they don’t sting like bees or cause harm to the environment. How can something like that mean trouble? Just because of the way it looks, because of what people think ?” You shake your head and hand the journal back to Ellie.

Joel knows, without even having to look, that you must have copied the image from your journal into her notebook. He mulls over your words and thinks about all the reasons he’s told you he can’t be with you. Wonders if you’ve ever compared yourself to a moth, remembers Kelly’s words. 

Bit of a troublemaker, really.

He remembers the first thing his brother ever told him about you. 

That’s just how she is. Explosive, defiant, easily provoked.

Remembers how Tommy noticed the immediate change in you after that night spent in the tree blind, that night Joel saw you for what you were and wanted it still.

That girl has been a pain in my ass every single day. Someone has a complaint about her, or she’s hollerin’ about something or other. Never does as she’s told—fights Maria and I on everything.

He thinks about Stella standing outside the bakery, shaking her fist at you with your name shouted from her lips over the loss of a single strawberry scone. One you split with a girl who’s never had one before, and likely wouldn’t have even thought to try it if not for your thievery.

How can something like that mean trouble?

Joel feels that pinch in his chest again. It’s a little different this time, a little more like guilt than appreciation, a little more like perdition, like eternal damnation.

Because he did this to you. Joel put these thoughts in your head, didn’t he? And you don’t deserve that. He doesn’t deserve you.

“You write a lot,” Ellie says, and there’s a sensitive tone to her voice. One that lets you know you don’t have to talk about it, but that you can. 

And Joel is a little surprised that you do. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Do you forget stuff all the time?”

You shake your head, flipping back to the next vacant page in your journal. You’re drawing inside of it, and Ellie is drawing in her notebook, and Joel lets himself appreciate the sight of the two of you seemingly so comfortable with each other. Two gifts he’d been given from God, two gifts he’s too corrupt to deserve but too lamentable to ever let go of. “Not really. It’s…it’s the opposite,” you tell her so softly he almost can’t hear it from where he lingers just outside the doorway. “There’s too much I can’t forget.”

Ellie’s drawing stops, but she still holds the pen tightly between her fingers. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” you answer.

“I think…I think I like Cat,” Ellie says, and Joel isn’t even a little surprised to hear it. He’s old, but he’s not blind. “I mean, like like her. Is that…weird?”

“That’s not weird,” you say casually. You don’t even lift your pen, don’t even turn your head to look over at her. Joel sees the relief in Ellie’s shoulders, knows this confession has been made easier for her with how little you’ve reacted to it. “Cat’s cool, right?”

“Yeah,” Ellie says, cheeks flaming. She starts to draw in her notebook again, pursing her lips together to hide her pleased smile. “Cat’s cool.”

Joel clears his throat and knocks his knuckles against the door. “Hey, kiddo,” he greets.

“Hey,” Ellie says, brows pinched together. “Where’d you go off to so early this morning? Maria was asking for you.”

“Just had a couple of things to take care of,” he says. “I’m gonna shower and then I’ll go find Maria. We’ll grab lunch in the dining hall after. Sound good?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. I think they’re serving venison today.” Her eyes widen dramatically, and she gives him a pointed look, and then she’s inconspicuously nodding toward you, hinting at something. 

It takes Joel a little too long to understand what she’s saying. He crosses his arms over his broad chest and shrugs as he turns to look at you, trying to prepare himself for the embarrassment, the discomfort. But when your eyes connect, none of it’s there. It’s just that warm tenderness you bring out in him, and somehow that’s even worse because Ellie is right there and he doesn’t know how to hide this, doesn’t know how to keep it under wraps when every time he looks at you he feels he might burst with the rapture he’s stolen with you. Joel fights his knowing grin as he says, “You can come.” And as soon as the words fall from his mouth he regrets them, coughs to cover up his chagrin. “I mean, for…for lunch. If you…if you want to. You don’t have to, but you’re…you can—if you want.”

You’re laughing as he stumbles over his words, and Ellie’s mouth falls open in astonishment. “Uh…sure,” you say. “Sure. I’ll come with you, Joel.”

His face burns, and he’s trying not to laugh and scream at the same time. 

“ Jesus,” Ellie huffs. “That was painful. Now go, please.”

He knows she’s pushing him out to save herself any more embarrassment, but Joel knows there’s no way it compares to his. He tries to remedy the conversation. “I didn’t mean…I’m just trying to invite you,” he says. To…to lunch. Venison.”

Ellie leans back, grabs a throw pillow from the mountain of them on her bed, and chucks one at Joel’s head. “Oh my God, go!”

Joel does as told, catching the throw pillow in his hands and tossing it on the floor at your feet before disappearing out of the garage. His mortification eases at the sound of joyous laughter that spills from both of you, and he can hear Ellie as he walks away.

“You wanna know something insane? I think he’s seeing someone. Like a girlfriend. Can you believe that?”

Your answer is spoken with mock astonishment, and Joel decides to make you eat your words later as you snark, “Whoever it is should teach him how to talk.”

He does just as he said. He showers quickly, trying to avoid thoughts of you, images that flit through his brain of your shampoo sitting next to his on the side of the tub, of a second towel hanging behind the door. He does his best to not think about you sleeping here, in his bed with your hair splayed out over his pillows. He tries not to think about hearing your soft sighs echo in his room, about waking up to the warmth of you wrapped around him, about your pretty sounding pleas for more, more, always more, needy little girl. 

Joel fails, of course—and twice he has to take his cock in his hand and grant himself a little relief in the shower before he feels sated enough to go about his day.

An hour later, he finds Maria near the stables. She’s talking to a young man Joel can’t quite place. He’s your age, and Joel’s seen him around, but his name slips his mind. Maria listens intently as he tells her about the foal who was born a couple of days ago, updating her on the horse’s progress. When she spots him, she gives him an inviting smile and says, “Joel! There you are.” 

He waits for her to say her goodbyes and the two of them leave the stables and start down the street. “Ellie said you were lookin’ for me.”

“I was,” she says, wasting no time. “When you weren’t home, wanna know the next place I checked?”

Her stare is weighted, heavy. And he suddenly feels a little bit like a child being scolded, knowing he’s been caught but not willing to admit fault.

Joel doesn’t offer a reply. Maria doesn’t either, because they both know right where she went. “She was leaving when I got there, on her way to meet Ellie. Said she hadn’t seen you since yesterday morning at The Tipsy Bison.”

She leaves room for him to confirm or deny the accusation in her words. He doesn’t. 

“You snore, Joel. Did you know that?”

He stops, feet sinking into the fresh snowfall in the middle of the street. The sun shines brightly, though—and he knows the spring thaw is coming soon. He hopes the end of this conversation comes sooner. “Maria…”

She turns to face him, several paces ahead. “She’s only lied to me once before today. And it was to protect someone then, too.”

He opens his mouth to say something, anything —but nothing comes out.

Thankfully, Maria stops him with a raised hand. “Don’t you go lying to me too,” she says. “Look, I…I know you probably think she hates me, and maybe—maybe there’s a little truth to that. But I love that girl like she’s my own, Joel. And she’s irreplaceable to this town. You understand? I don’t need her distracted. And I really don’t need you to be causing issues with the others because of her.”

It surprises him to hear it, in truth. The only interaction he’d seen between the two of you was the one in the dining hall where you’d been throwing things and screaming in Maria’s face, and Joel had assumed it’d given him all the information he needed about your relationship with her. Had he been wrong? Jackson has a pretty lengthy history—maybe there’s more to this than he once thought. Maybe there’s more to you than he thought. 

The desire to pry confessions out of you rises in him, desperate to discover that something that’s happened to you, to drink greedily from your well. Joel realizes he wants to know it all. The good, bad, and ugly.

“I’m not causing issues,” he says, but it even tastes like a lie. He’d sent Kelly away crying and almost stabbed Abel with a broken beer bottle just yesterday.

“Hey, Maria! Come take a look at this!”

Joel’s thankful for the distraction. She raises a hand in greeting to the older woman a few feet away, and then turns back to Joel with a heavy sigh and exhaustion on her face. “Look, you’re both adults, and I’m not trying to give you the talk. What you do together is your business—all I’m saying is…don’t do irreparable damage to yourself or to this town to indulge her,” Maria says. “I’m sure you know by now she can cause a whole lotta trouble when she wants to, and I don’t want you to start thinking this is anything but a way to get back at me, to prove her point. I know you think you’re what she needs, and, hell—maybe you are right now. But she’s young, Joel. She’ll never love you—not the same way you’ll love her. This is just a phase, and she’ll grow out of it. She’ll grow out of you.”

The words are cold and sharp, stabbing behind his ribs, stealing the breath from his lungs, dousing that warmth you’ve elicited and leaving nothing but ash in its wake. Because in the back of his mind, Joel knows it’s the fucking truth. 

Doesn’t make it any easier to swallow, though. He chokes on it instead.

Maria seems to sense his struggle and offers an apology that does nothing for him because she can never take the words back, can never replace the blindfold she’s ripped off. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I was really hoping Tommy would get through to you but I think you’re more like me. Sometimes we need the truth to hurt a little to understand it.”

The woman tries to grab Maria’s attention again. This time she gives it to her, squeezing Joel’s shoulder in a way that makes his hands curl into fists at his side. He hates Maria at this moment because despite desperately trying, he can’t find a single lie in her words.

She’ll grow out of you. 

Joel swallows it down like a bitter pill.

When he returns home, he’s relieved to discover you’ve fled Ellie’s company for the time being. He thinks about canceling, urging her to have lunch with you alone because of a non-existent headache. 

But she’s so excited to see him when he gets back, excited for the three of you to share a meal, and Joel doesn’t have the heart to ruin it. She babbles about you the whole way to the dining hall, talks about how cool you are, how pretty you are, and Joel agrees.

It throws Ellie off guard enough that she squints and turns her face up at him as they settle at a table with one vacant chair. “I thought you hated her,” she says.

“Hate her?” He shakes his head. “Nah. Ain’t like that.”

This answer, it seems, has her even more suspicious. “Sooo…what is it like then?”

Like religion.

Because Joel wants the comfort you bring. He wants the warmth, the devotion, the prayer he makes you recite whenever he finds himself between your thighs. He wants the succor that comes with urging you into submission, wants the satisfaction that blankets him when you’ve got nothing bratty left to say, foul words replaced with pleas. He wants the respite he finds whenever you’re near.

But he’s never much believed in God, never believed he’d be good enough to get into heaven. And he’s having a hard time believing he can keep you, too.

It’s not the worship he struggles with. It’s the faith.

“Sore subject, I see,” Ellie says. And there’s something on her face akin to understanding, which makes Joel realize she’s growing up at the speed of light.

“Yeah,” he says, seconds before you and Tommy walk through the door. 

The laces in one of your boots have come undone, loosening with every step you take into the dining hall. You talk to Joel’s brother animatedly, a serious look on your face. Tommy’s nodding in response as you tick off something on your fingers, and it’s barely there but Joel can see the fear in his brother's face as he looks at you. 

Something’s wrong. He doesn’t know what it is or how he knows it, but Joel knows. Can see it in the way his brother’s shoulders are pulled tight, can see it in the crease between your brows. Worry emanates from both of you. And when you glance over at Joel and Ellie waiting for you at the table, it dissipates for a single moment as a warm smile stretches across your face. 

Tommy pulls you into a tight embrace—something familiar and affectionate that would enrage Joel had you shared it with anyone besides his brother. Your goodbyes are muffled by the clink of silverware and the dull chatter of the people around you, but Joel can make out two of Tommy’s words. “Be careful.”

You shake off whatever unsettles you and sit in the chair between them. “Sorry I’m late,” you say. “Tommy caught me on the way here.”

“Everything okay?” Ellie asks carefully.

“Yeah, yeah—all good.” It’s a lie, and both of them sense it but neither prod for more.

Joel leans over, takes either side of your chair, and turns it toward himself, legs scraping noisily against the wooden floor. You glare at him and start to call him some obscene name, but then he gently takes your ankle in his hands. He can feel your gaze on him as he sets your boot between his knees and laces it back up—because it’s dangerous for you to be walking around like that. What if you trip? When he’s finished, he sets your foot back on the ground and stands from his chair, trying to ignore the look of bewilderment on Ellie’s face. “You two stay put. I’ll grab lunch.”

He hears both of you break out into hushed whispers the minute he walks away, but whatever it is the two of you are talking about is way less concerning to him than what you and Tommy were talking about.

It takes him less than a minute to slip out of the back door in the dining hall, round the building, and find his brother just outside. He stops him with a brisk hand to the shoulder. “Tell me.”

Tommy lets out a sigh and runs the back of his thumb over a wrinkle on his forehead. “A few months ago, just a couple before you and Ellie showed back up, there was a raid. A bad one. Only lost a few good people but…a lot of the survivors were pretty hurt. We made it through, but the stock we had in medical supplies has been slim ever since. An’ it’s hard—finding stuff like that these days.”

“That’s all it is? A run for supplies?” You’re the best runner Jackson has. Tommy’s said so on multiple occasions. That doesn’t scare Joel, the idea of you going out there. So why has it got his brother so rattled?

Tommy swallows, and Joel knows there’s more. But his little brother hesitates, pity filling his brown eyes, and it does nothing but fuel the panic slowly creeping into Joel’s bloodstream.

“Tell me,” he insists, a little more aggressive this time.

He has to look away to answer. Tommy instead finds the steadily melting snow far more interesting. “There’s a…there’s a hospital out in Casper. About two weeks on foot, one with a horse. It’s got all the supplies we could ever need—aspirators, sterile bandages, ECG monitors, ventilators, antibiotics.”

“Get to the point,” Joel demands.

And he does. Says it outright as if it’s not a death sentence. “It hasn’t been touched since before.”

Joel knows, but he narrows his eyes and asks slowly, “Before…before what, Tommy?”

“Before the outbreak.”

Which means that whatever’s inside… “No,” he says, shaking his head and taking a step back, suddenly unable to pull air into his lungs fast enough. “No. Find someone else.”

“There is no one else, Joel.” 

“Then call it off! Send her on a scouting mission—farther away if you have to. You have no idea what’s in there.”

He can’t imagine it—something worse than clickers, worse than bloaters. Joel’s mouth runs dry as one terrifying thought rings like a warning bell through his head. You’ll die, you’ll die, you’ll die.

“You think that’s the kinda man I am? That I’d send her in there knowing how dangerous it’ll be without giving her a choice?” Tommy glares at him. “It was her idea.”

“I don’t fuckin’ care whose idea it was, I’m sayin’ no.”

“It ain’t your decision to make,” Tommy says in warning.

And Joel knows it’s the truth as much as he knows Maria’s sharp words were the truth—but he doesn't care about any of it. Not when your safety is on the line. “Nah, Tommy, you’re not—you’re not hearin’ me. I’m telling you it’s not going to fucking happen.”

“Maria’s gonna give birth soon, Joel. We need those supplies,” Tommy says, finality in his voice. He shoves past Joel, a clear sign that the conversation is over—but Joel doesn’t care about that, either.

He shoves his brother hard, and when he turns around to face him Joel can see the anger on his face. But it’s no match for his. “Don’t you walk away from me!”

“It’s not your fuckin’ call!”

Joel scoffs. “This is someone’s life you’re gamblin’ with, Tommy. You’re tellin’ me you need those supplies more than this town needs her? More than I need—?”

He stops. Freezes beneath the weight of his brother’s accusatory stare, knowing just what he’s almost said, knowing just what he’s admitted. So much for keeping it secret, Joel thinks. 

His chest constricts, ribcage closing in on his lungs. Joel suddenly can’t breathe. 

Tommy’s eyes soften as he watches his brother fall apart in the middle of the street. “I tried to warn you, man,” he says. “I told you to put an end to it. Told you nothing good would come of it.”

It becomes obvious to him then that there’s no getting through to his brother. Joel decides to take a different approach instead.

When he storms back into the dining hall, you and Ellie have already gotten plates for yourselves and one for him—and the sentiment would warm his heart if he wasn’t currently fuming. He doesn’t sit back in his chair. He stands over you and says firmly, “You’re not going.”

You narrow your eyes, trying to understand what the hell he’s talking about, and roll them dramatically the moment it clicks together in your mind. “I didn’t ask, Joel. Sit down. We got you lunch.”

“It’s a goddamn suicide mission and you know it,” he says, trying to no avail to keep his voice down.

He expects you to lash out, to fight him like you always do. But you sit still in your chair. Don’t even turn to look at him. Just stare pointedly forward, knee bouncing furiously beneath the table. It’s the first time he’s ever seen you hold back that anger, the first time he’s ever seen you try to keep it in check.

Joel’s not sure what that means. For him, or you. “If it’s been left untouched for that long, it’s probably been that way for good reason. Have you lost your mind? ”

It’s then you stand abruptly from your chair. Even though the words are dripping with irritation, you try your best to put on a gentle front as you say, “I’m sorry, Ellie. I’ll catch up with you later.”

And then you’re pushing past him, shoving him with a shoulder, leaving the dining hall with watery eyes. And Joel starts to feel a little bad, but he knows he still hasn’t gotten through to you and he has to. He needs to make you see reason before you run off and get yourself killed. 

Because he’s only just gotten a part of you. It can’t end so soon. It can’t. He won’t let it.

He follows you back to your house, calling your name, trying to avoid the stares the rest of the Jackson residents are giving the two of you. It isn’t until he says your name one final time that you turn to face him.

Joel’s chest cracks at the sight of the tears on your cheeks. He needs to get through to you, but he wishes it didn’t have to be like this. “Baby, please—just listen to me. It’s not safe.”

“Nothing is safe, Joel! Have a little faith in me. Why are you so sure I won’t make it back?”

“Because whatever’s in there is going to be so much worse than anything you or I have ever seen. Don’t you get that? You can’t do this. I couldn’t do it. No one should have to.”

You press the heels of your palms into your eyes and breathe a long sigh. When you finally compose yourself enough to speak again, you don’t look at him. And that hurts more than anything, Joel thinks. “Miley…she, uhm…she’s fifteen. Same age as Ellie. Been in Jackson her whole life, never been outside. Not really. And she’s so sweet…one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. She has…she has a—a tumor on her spine,” you say softly. “It can be removed, and she’ll live. But to operate, we need anesthesia. You know where to find anesthesia, Joel? A hospital.”

He shakes his head slowly, feels pressure build in his throat. “No,” he says softly. “We’ll…we’ll find it somewhere else. I’ll help you, baby, okay? We’ll go together—we’ll figure it out—”

“She doesn’t have that kind of time! God, are you hearing me? I’m going. And when I make it back in one piece with everything they need to save her, you’re gonna feel real fucking stupid for not believing in me.”

You turn away, push through the door and slam it closed behind you. Joel scrambles up the steps after you only to discover that, this time, you remember to lock it.

An hour later, Ellie finds him in his room with his backpack on the bed and his boots laced tight and an extra flannel on beneath his coat. She leans against the doorframe with her arms crossed and asks quietly, “Tommy told me what happened. You’re going with her, right?”

He doesn’t find any resentment on her face, and it relieves him if only a little. “Yeah,” he says. “That alright with you?” He prepares himself for any answer she gives. Decides then and there he'll remain here, in Jackson, if that's what she needs from him.

“‘Course,” she says, much to his relief. “Just…be careful.”

He hugs her tight, makes her promise she’ll bother Tommy with everything she needs, makes her swear she’ll stick with Cat or Dina or Jesse, that she won’t hermit in her room. She makes a joke about how he’s the hermit between the two of them, and then she urges him on his way. 

As he’s descending the stairs, she leans over the banister and says, “Hey, Joel? By the way, fuck you for stealing my wife. I liked her first.”

It makes him laugh, and the small moment of ease she creates just before he leaves brings his spirits up. He says goodbye to Tommy on the way to the stables, who points him in your general direction. He ignores the look his brother gives in response to his decision. Ignores him, too, when he warns, “Maria won’t like this.”

Because Joel doesn’t give a fuck what Maria thinks. Not when it comes to you. Because she might say she loves you like you’re her own, but she doesn’t love you enough to refuse to send you to your death. It’s all the information Joel needs about her opinion. 

He takes a horse and enough rations for two weeks and follows the tracks you’ve left behind in the mud. Once he’s deep into the forest surrounding Jackson, Joel realizes that you’re smarter than you let on—because the hoof prints veer off a mile into the trek, off the trail, and into the more secluded brush. He knows he’s getting close when the tracks become more defined, knows he’s just on the cusp of finding you. 

But it’s not him that finds you at all. 

Joel feels the hair on the back of his neck rise a second before he hears your voice from behind him. You look a little like some sort of Valkyrie warrior, standing tall beside your horse with your bow pulled taught, an arrow aimed right at his head. “Go home, Joel,” you say, an edge in your voice he’s never heard before. 

And he knows it’s partially due to frustration, but mostly because you’re here— outside the walls, out in the open where everyone has to be harder, sharper, crueler. He dismounts, keeping a loose hold on the reins. He raises his hands in surrender. “Let’s not do this,” he suggests. “You and I both know I’m not goin’ anywhere. Alright?”

The stiffness in your limbs subsides the smallest bit at his words, the soft side of you he knows and loves peeking through. But it’s only a second before those walls come slamming down again. “I don’t do runs like this anymore,” you tell him. “I don’t take partners.”

Anymore. The word haunts him. Because it implies that you did at one point. But something changed, something happened to make you break Jackson's most important rule, to draw the boundary he’s currently crossing. He can feel the pain it causes you, even from several feet away. And Joel doesn’t want to hurt you any further than he is right now but he can’t let you do this alone. “Put the bow down,” he says, taking a tentative step forward.

You only raise it higher, pull the bowstring back further. “Joel,” you say in warning. “Go. The fuck. Home.”

Another step, closing the distance. One more and fear bleeds into your pretty eyes. 

“Stop.” Your jaw clenches. He’s moving a little faster now, steadily invading your space. “I said stop!” You release the arrow, changing its trajectory in a second. 

It whizzes through the air, sinking deep into the earth between his feet. It’s dead center—and Joel would be impressed if he wasn’t furious. “You just shot at me,” he says in disbelief. 

“No fucking shit,” you bite back. “Maybe now you’ll take me seriously.” But then he lets go of his horse’s reins completely and is stalking forward, face contorted in rage because how dare you. “I swear to God! Don’t do this!” You reach behind your head and pull another arrow from the quiver strapped to your back in the blink of an eye. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

You won’t, and he knows it. The moment he’s able Joel rips the bow from your frigid fingers, ready to grab you by your hair and force you into submission if need be.

But the moment your hands are free you’re pushing his chest—pushing and pushing so hard it nearly sends him off his feet. But Joel feels that anger, that sadness, and he realizes suddenly this has nothing to do with his being here and everything to do with what happened to you. It’s about your something. “Please,” you say, the word broken in your mouth. “Please, Joel, please don’t do this to me.”

“Hey,” he says softly, laying your bow on the ground at your side. “Hey, baby, hey, c’mon now.” He takes your hands between his, pausing your assault. They’re so cold that he brings them to his mouth and tries to warm them with his breath. It seems to calm you if only a little. “S’okay, sweetheart. I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you, alright?”

Your cheeks are flushed crimson and water lines your lashes as you confess, “I don’t care about me, Joel, what about you? What happens if you get hurt? What do I do? I can’t lose anyone else, I can’t— please. Just go home, I’m begging you.”

It’s then he understands. Joel knows this kind of grief, is real intimate with it, in fact. He knows how unforgivable it feels to lose someone on account of bad judgment. He pulls you close, wraps his strong arms around your frame and cradles your head against his chest. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, little girl. Okay? You’re alright. I’ve got ya. Shh…s’okay, baby. I’m right here. I’m right here .”

And he is—wherever you are, he silently vows to be with you. To keep you safe, always. To do his damndest to keep you from suffering any more loss, any more of that sinking misery. He lets you cry it out, lets your tears soak into his flannel, lets you catch your breath. 

When you do, you lift your head and wipe your face and fix that hard stare back onto it. “Okay,” you say softly. And then again, a little stronger. “Okay. But you play by my rules, Joel. You do what I say, when I say it.”

He hears the echo of his conversation with Ellie back in Boston. Feels the urge suddenly to spill his guts to you so you know he really, truly understands. But now isn’t the time. So Joel caresses your cheek, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb. “Your run, your rules,” he says. And he means it. 

You lean down and pick up your bow, sling it across your shoulder, and pull yourself back up into the saddle. “It’ll be good, having two horses,” you say. “We can carry more supplies back.”

Joel leaves your side only long enough to mount his horse, who he steers back toward you the moment he can.

“Only one problem now,” you say. 

He furrows his brows, following you back onto the path through the forest. “What’s that?”

“You’re twice my age, Joel,” you say dismally. But there’s something else there, something teasing in your voice. “Not sure if you can keep up with me, old man.”

Joel shakes his head as you set your horse off into a gallop, flying effortlessly through the trees at a break-neck pace. He can’t resist the grin that tugs at his lips. He scoffs and mutters under his breath before following after you. “Brat.”

[part four] [part six]