#this anger is mine and i am not giving it up
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SO MUCH TO LOSE PART 12
rating: 18+
tags: mentions of death, mentions of violence, fingering, dirty talk, jealousy, angst.
a/n: I'm sorry y'all lunch with friends ran late and it's definitely not the afternoon anymore! But here it is! I know y'all have waited a long time for this so I hope its to your liking. It's over 12,000 words and I swear I could write more but then I'd never publish anything. You know your comments and reblogs make me continue on, so please don't forget to do one of the other or even better, both!
masterlist here
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"Wake up."
You jolt awake, eyes blowing wide. You instinctively go for the clock at your beside at home but it's not there. Nothing is where it usually is. As your sleepy mind clears you see two brown eyes staring down at you.
"Time to go. Get dressed."
You clothes are dried and laying beside you on the couch and the dead fire. The already dressed Joel leaves the room likely to give you privacy. You get dressed in a hurry, pulling your clothes and boots on before stumbling after Joel.
"Did you sleep much?"
"Yep. Plenty."
You don’t believe him. There are large circles under his eyes and he yawns so wide that his jaw cracks. You think maybe he got an hour tops.
You follow him down to see the horses huddled up together in the center of the room. Joel obviously used two of the blankets from upstairs because they’re thrown over each of the horses’ backs. They give a soft whinny as the two of you approach.
“Sure am missing breakfast,” you muse with a sleepy smile. “Even that oatmeal that sticks to the roof of my mouth.”
Joel’s mouth curls a bit at one side in amusement. You busy yourself with kissing Chestnut’s muzzle once more before you feel Joel tap you.
“Here.”
You glance over to see Joel holding a piece of jerky out to you. You take it gratefully before pausing.
“Wait, isn’t this your portion?”
“Ate mine already.”
He’s lying.
He gave you all the jerky. Let you drink the rest of his coffee. Even shared his precious whiskey.
“You sure?”
Joel hefts the saddles onto each of the horses, making sure that they’re secured as you gaze at him in question. He feels you staring at him and instead of his usual snark he just glances over gives you a nod.
“Ready to go?”
“Mhm.”
You and Chestnut follow he and Midnight out the house, helping the horses to slowly maneuver down the icy steps into the snow. Even after the storm it comes to above your ankles. Joel frowns, looking down at it.
“We’re gonna have to walk ‘em back. Don’t trust that they won’t hurt themselves in all this.”
“Of course.”
You trail after him, eyes stuck on the ground in front of you.
Joel leads, you follow.
And instead of angering you or making you feel small and useless, it makes you bloom. Like a flower warmed by the sun, its petals unfurling. You feel yourself smiling to yourself a big, toothy grin that you’re glad Joel can’t see. He’d ask you why and you’re not sure that you could answer him sufficiently. You don’t quite understand it yourself.
The walk back is long, especially with the horses moving unsteadily over the snow. Thankfully Chestnut is easily led, unlike last night. The worst of the storm is behind you, leaving only the crunch of icy snow and trees heavy with white.
Your cheeks and end of your nose are pink from the cold, the scarf tight around your throat. Your fingers are warm in your gloves and you're relieved that everything dried sufficiently in front of the fire last night. You glance at Joel’s broad back, suddenly fixated on an errant thought.
“Joel can I ask you something?”
He visibly cringes. “What?”
“How did you get so good at shooting and fighting?”
His shoulders relax. “Practice.”
“You didn’t fight or shoot before Outbreak Day?”
“Only when I had to get Tommy out of scrapes,” Joel says quietly and you notice he’s slowed his walking until you’ve matched paces and you’re both walking side by side. “I did some boxing when I was younger. Didn’t have much time when Sar- when I got older. The shooting came after. A necessary skill when you’re smugglin’.”
You nod, knowing that he was about to bring up his daughter. Despite the closeness you feel, you have no desire to delve into that very heavy topic. You’re curious about his smuggling as well, but you don’t want to bring that up either as it seems strangely personal.
“You learn pretty quick that anything can be a weapon,” Joel continues on as if you’re a particularly engaged student. “A book, a candlestick, even an unloaded gun can hit a pretty bad blow to the base of someone’s skull. You might not kill ‘em but you’ll hurt ‘em enough to get away.”
To you a book is a book, a candlestick a candlestick. You don’t see things as potential weapons, only for their intended uses
“I never really thought of that,” you admit. “Although I wish I was more of a natural at shooting.”
"Needed to keep up with your lessons," Joel murmurs and you think you hear a softening of his tone. "I could try teachin' you again."
"I've already got someone teaching me," you tell him, back straight and standing tall. You tell Joel this in the pathetic hopes that it will impress him, that he will see how you’re really trying. But instead he scowls at the air in front of him.
“If it’s that Luke boy you’re better off goin’ in blind,” Joel says, eyes fixed in front of him. “He couldn’t even hit a nail straight. Some fuckin’ cabinetmaker.”
Luke is most assuredly not a boy; he’s at least thirty five. Joel calling him a boy makes you smirk despite being irritated at the insult to your friend.
“You don’t even know Luke.”
Joel looks sullen and you're confused that he's angry again. You really can't anticipate his moods.
The two of you continue on in silence and you think that Joel seems a bit irritated for some reason you can’ unearth. Likely just exhausted like you are after a stressful day and uneven sleep.
"Thought you wanted to be a good shot?” Joel says suddenly, glancing at you over his shoulder. “You need a competent teacher."
"I have a competent teacher and it isn't Luke anyway," you bite off, a line of irritation slicing between your brows.
"Who? Aaron? Greg?" Joel's voice is hard edged. His pace increases with every name said. "Kevin?"
“If you must know its Jennifer,” you sigh, irritable from your poor sleep and Joel’s sudden sullenness.
"Jennifer?" Joel's brows untie his features relaxing.
“I know how much you hate me bringing her up,” you sneer. “But I can’t really avoid it now can I?”
Joel gives a grunt by way of reply all the while your mind drifts to your friend. The girl who likes Joel and has for a long while. Jennifer the girl who has always been up front and honest with you.
What will you tell her?
He's quiet with you on the walk back and you wonder if he's distracted like you. He's likely tired like you are, muscles aching from the lumpy couch. Now you know how those muscles feel against your cheek and the memory makes you feel tingly.
In your distracted state and the slick of the snow you tumble, landing on your hands and hissing. Angry tears well in your eyes and you wince at the way your wrist smarts.
"Fuck."
Your knees and are wet from snow and you miserably wait for the chastising or rolled eyes shot your way by Joel. Instead you hear the crunch of snow and he's there half-crouched in front of you, one hand on Midnight's reins, the other held out to you.
You stare at it a moment, the glove wide and cracked with age. Then finally you take it, lifting your eyes to his. You're surprised to find concern.
"You alright?"
"Yeah."
"You good to keep goin'?"
"Uh huh."
He nods and then he turns, dropping your hand and striding back with the horse towards the trail.
You watch the back of Joel's head as he saunters ahead of you, listening to his quiet murmurs to Midnight and fixating on the loose curl of his hair at the nape of his neck. You're captivated by the interwoven strands of dark brown and grey that glint like tinsel in the light of the morning.
You're concerned that the thought of Joel makes your belly grow warm and tighten. The man who previously drove you insane with irritation now lingers in your thoughts almost pleasantly.
He shared things with you. Things you have a feeling he doesn't share with many others. He told you about Tess and he wanted to know about you. So what does that mean? Does he see you as more than just a pleasurable release?
Do you want him to?
You don't know how to feel about Joel right now. And you don’t know what you’re going to tell Jennifer if she asks.
When you cross into Jackson City cold and exhausted a few hours later you're surprised to hear loud commotion behind the wall and electrified fence.
"It's them!"
"Open the fucking gate!"
You and Joel exchange a brief look before the entrance is opened to you and you stalk forward. You see the large group gathered at the wall on the other side, thankful that the snow has been shovelled.
The entrance to the gate is full of the other patrol members looking like they're about to head out. You glance behind you to see the snow storm kicking back up just as the gate is closed and locked securely behind you. You glance back at the
Tommy is giving a relieved huff of air as he sees you both slowly make your way inside the walls, the horses trailing after you.
Jennifer is atop Glimmer; talking animatedly to a new patrol person you don't know. She looks beside herself, her eyes red-rimmed. When she turns back and sees you she lets out a choked sob and scrambles off Glimmer before she runs in your direction, nearly tackling you into a tight embrace.
"I was so worried," she says, voice shaky. "Luke and I were up all night just waiting for word. I was gonna go with the search party and-and-"
"I'm here in okay," you say with a slight laugh, your arms banding around her as she hiccups a cry into your shoulder. "I swear I'm okay."
You notice the timid form of Ellie over Jennifer's shoulder. She sees you first and casts a brief smile at you before her eyes search the crowd for Joel. When she hears him snapping at Tommy to give him breathing room you see the tears she blinks back. You watch as Ellie slips through the crowd chasing after his voice.
When she gets to him there's no hesitation on his part. He brings her into his arms and murmurs something into her ear. Ellie's face crumples but she buries it in the front of Joel's jacket, her tiny hands gripping the front of it.
She loves him so much.
You catch his eye over Ellie's head, not missing the gentle nod he casts your way. It warms you deeply. Things feel different between the two of you.
'I'm so glad you're okay," Jennifer says wiping the tears from her cheeks and drawing your attention back to her. "I just ... I was so scared."
"Me too," you nod, surprised to find yourself choked up. You haven’t had friendship like this before – the kind of tenderness that comes with true companionship. You wonder if this is how every friendship is supposed to feel and if so, you mourn that it took you this long to stumble upon it.
The tall, lanky form of Luke steps forward from the murmuring crowd his face breaking into a relieved expression. He jogs over in your direction and takes you aback by gathering you into his arms and rocking you tightly against him.
“Thank fuck!”
You giggle in his neck, inhaling the soft, warm scent of coffee and wool from his scarf. He holds you like this for several moments, tenderly and with affection.
"I know you wanted an adventure but honestly," he says with mock irritation into your hairline.
Laughter bubbles from the three of you, relieved and silly. You hug him back tightly, thankful for the relationships you've built, thankful for the levity he's bringing to the moment. Grateful that you found he and Jennifer at the end of the world.
You hear a throat clear behind you and you turn in Luke's grip.
Joel stares back at you, mouth in a thin line. He's got Ellie tucked under one arm, Tommy at his side and several of the others attempting to talk to him. But he’s still, the only movement his dark eyes taking you in.
You break away from Luke and move towards Joel, feeling overcome with emotion. Last night could have been so terrifying if not for the broad man standing in front of you. A sensation of deep gratitude curls around your ribs, lessening the anxiety you would normally feel in his presence.
"Thank you for everything, Joel."
You give him a warm smile, even going so far as to touch your hand to his forearm. Ellie watches this, a faint smile settling over her lips as your glove makes contact with his jacket.
You wait for that same quiet kindness from Joel that accompanied you home this morning and are confused when he pulls back from your hand stiffly, his voice melting into that familiar husky baritone.
"Mind movin' outta the way sometime this year?"
And just like that in the blink of an eye the old Joel is back. That same haughty glare, the same squaring of his jaw. You deflate, shoulders slumping before you move backwards.
Nothing has changed.
He strides by your group, the feel of his leather jacket dragging across the back of your glove.
"Must be exhausted after last night," Jennifer surmises, watching after him a moment. "You must be too."
You watch after Joel and Ellie, seeing the rigid way he walks beside her now. You think of Joel’s changeable moods and you exhale softly.
"Yeah," you nod. "I am."
///
Jennifer insists on walking you home and makes sure you are taken care of. She draws you a bath and leaves to bring you back a warm lunch from the dining hall. She makes sure your bed is changed with fresh sheets, warming them with a water bottle from her place. She even offers to sleep on your couch in case you need anything that first evening back.
“You don’t have to do that,” you insist that evening before the fire, your robe tightly around you and socks toasty from being propped up by the flames. It reminds you of how cold you were with Joel only a day ago.
You’re close to falling asleep but you like having Jennifer in the house, nearby. You like the sound of clattering dishes and her chirping away about something in town before she’s tucked up on one side of the couch, her hands around a warm mug of tea.
“I can’t thank you enough for all of this,” you tell her, feeling moved.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s something to me.”
Jennifer smiles and you watch how the fire warms her face in an entirely different way than Joel. Instead of looking intimidating, it’s like she softens in the warm light. She looks sad though in a way you don’t recall from before.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you here,” she finally says with a cracked chuckle, her long neck bobbing as she swallows.
“Yeah right. You have so many friends,” you say. “I’ve barely ever seen you alone. You always have company.”
“Company, but not real friends,” she tells you. “Not ones who don’t judge me.”
You recall your initial judgments of the beautiful, blonde Jennifer. That she was giggly and frivolous and that she lived to gather men. You’d had no idea of her tough upbringing, of all she sacrificed, of her talents, of her unending support. You wonder how many others you judged in your life and missed out on the pleasure of knowing.
“I judged you,” you tell her honestly. “When I first met you I thought you were a vapid, pretty flirt.”
Jennifer is immediately laughing across from you, wiping the tension from your face.
“Yeah but everyone makes judgments like that with strangers! I made judgments about you before I got to know you too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I thought you were an antisocial bitch,” Jennifer says with a crooked grin and you can’t help but bark out a laugh in reply.
“What?”
“You never spoke to anyone, never smiled. You were always reading or walking off by yourself.” Jennifer smirks. “You intimidated the shit out of me.”
“No,” you say in awe. “I intimidated you?”
“Of course!” Jennifer giggles. “So serious and always reading. Plus you just carried yourself in a way that felt. . . it felt like you had walls up, you know?”
You realize that Jennifer is very astute amongst her other gifts.
“Then I saw Ellie with you that morning,” she adds. “And I figured, maybe like Joel there was more to you than met the eye. Then I heard you were on patrols with Joel and the rest is history.”
Yeah, the rest is history.
You can’t help but curl your lip in amusement. Who knew a chance patrol pairing could lead you into a friendship you’d never thought possible? Jennifer shuffles back on the couch, looking cozy in her latest fashion piece (a cable knit looking sweater with felted strawberry accents).
Jennifer is quiet, staring into the fire. She seems strangely stoic today and you feel like it’s not just from your disappearance. You give her a sidelong glance, lips pressed tightly together. She looks off into middle distance, her normally mirth-filled eyes suddenly hollow.
"You okay, Jen?"
She doesn’t reply, only turns her head to glance in your direction when you prompt her with a gentle tap to her wrist, settling back into the couch before turning to look at you head on.
“Just a tough time of year,” Jennifer acknowledges as she tosses a twig in the fire. She looks different tonight, like a ghostly version of herself.
You surmise that perhaps with the approaching holidays she’s feeling down in the mouth. It's like that with lots of folks. You shift your body to face her, showing her that you're listening and you wait for her to talk, holding the silence for her.
She looks to be fighting an internal debate.
"I shot a kid."
She says it with a choke, as if the words are fighting to come loose from her throat. These weren't the words you'd been expecting from the beautiful, flirty Jennifer. These words are ugly, twisted and cold.
“I’ve only told a few people,” she adds, chin wobbling.
You stare at her, eyes unwavering, waiting. Words aren't your strong suit. All you can offer her is a steady silence. She absently scratches at the side of the warm mug she holds.
"This was years ago around this time," she continues, her eyes downcast. "I was with my brothers and we were going through to one of the safety zones. We'd found this old market, had some tinned goods. My brothers go to check out the back and I go down an empty aisle thinking I might find something useful."
Jennifer swallows harshly, her teacup held so tightly her knuckles look parchment white.
"All of a sudden this kid comes out of nowhere. Couldn't have been more than ten. He's skin and bones, wild eyes saying these words over and over, a bunch that I don't understand. He had a knife in his hand and I thought he was trying to come for me. I didn't even think, I just raised the gun and I shot him between the eyes."
You can almost hear the echo of that gunshot in the silent room now.
Jennifer is staring over your shoulder, like she can see the ghostly apparition of the fallen child behind you. It makes goosebumps rise along your body, and you continue to keep your even silence. You know that she doesn't want you embrace or your pity, just your presence.
"My brother's told me I did what was smart,” Jennifer whispers. “Told me to move on. But his face when he was dead, his shrieking, it just kept playing over and over in my head. When I went to bed, when I woke up. It felt wrong."
Tears slide down her cheeks now, as quick as she brushes them away with the edge of her sweater, new ones appear, soaking into the wool.
"I came to Jackson a few months after that. My brothers wanted to keep goin', they heard about some place in Canada that they thought would be a better fit for us. But... I needed a fresh start where no one knew me, where I could be someone totally new. They were upset to leave me, but I pretty much insisted on it."
You shift in your seat, listening intently. Jennifer has this sickening look on her face and you know behind her eyes is a memory of this terrible experience. It makes you want to hold her hand but she’s folded into herself and you don’t want to force her into anything.
"So I was living here in Jackson a few months and I’m at the dining hall one night and I hear this woman speaking another language. At first I barely notice, but then I realize this word keeps popping up. Pomoz. Pomoz. Same as that kid."
At this point Jennifer places her empty teacup on the aged wood coffee table. She stretches her long legs before pulling them to her chest. She sniffs again, unable to meet your gaze.
"Turns out he was speaking Polish. So I tell the lady the sentence that has been haunting me for months and months and I ask her for the translation." Jennifer swipes along the bottom of her runny nose with the back of her sweater.
"You know what he was saying?"
You don't move. Not even to shake your head.
"He was saying help me. I'm lost." Jennifer's lower lip trembles. "Pomóż mi, zgubiłem się. He was just a kid begging for my help and I shot him dead without thinking."
Now the sobs come, wracking her slim body as she curls into herself.
"That little b-boy died on a dirty supermarket floor alone and scared because of me."
You can't help it if it isn't in your nature; your hands go to Jennifer's and hold tightly. And when her warm teardrops land on the back of them you move forward to wrap her in your arms. You haven’t held someone to comfort them in so long that it feels foreign to you, but you grip her tightly, letting her tears soak the front of your nightdress.
You don’t offer her saccharine words of comfort, you don’t give her pity, you just hold her until the tears stop flowing and her breathing returns to normal. Even after all of that you continue to hold her until she squeezes back, letting you sit there in the quiet night.
"Thank you," Jennifer finally says in a croaked voice before pulling back. You tilt your head at her.
"For what?"
"For letting me talk about this stuff and not judging me." She pushes her hair from her glassy eyes.
"You did what anyone else would have done," you assure her honestly. “I know you don’t believe it, but you did. How could I judge that?”
"I think you're the first person who I ever told this to who didn't look at me like I was a piece of shit," she says with a forced laugh. You shake your head.
"I could never look at you like that.”
She gives you a wry smile. "Oh yeah? Why's that? Cuz I taught you to shoot?"
You give her a weak smile in return.
"Because... You reminded me about the good parts of life. Of having friends and singing and drinking tea. You made me leave my cave and come blinking out into the sunshine again."
Jennifer looks moved by your words, her large eyes growing glossier.
"I think that's why I wanted to get to know you," Jennifer observes with a sniffle. "It felt like you were outrunning something too. Trying to forget."
You look at your hands in your lap before giving a resolute nod.
"Yeah."
"Sometimes I think that's why I like to distract myself with crushes or teaching people to shoot or makin' dresses," she muses. "Being alone with my thoughts too much is..."
She doesn't finish that thought but she doesn't need to.
You couldn't understand more.
And then its like she’s trying to push back this burdensome memory and she forces a smile to her face. You can see her adopting this persona, this safety person that she hides behind. Happy, bright, Jennifer who flirts and shoots and rides horses and drinks beer at the Bison. And you let her slip into this character because you are no one to judge how a person chooses to survive.
“So tell me, what was it like being there with Joel at night?” she asks with a sidelong smirk in your direction. “I know he’s not your favorite person.”
Before when Jennifer asked you about Joel it used to irritate you. You thought she was using you for your information. But when she asks you now there’s nothing but amusement, like two grade-school girls discussing their crush from third period biology.
“I thought about you actually,” you grin toothily. “Thought about how you’d give anything to swap spots with me.”
Jennifer does a fake swoon, falling dramatically backward; the back of her hand on her forehead and you can’t help but bust out giggling. Jennifer giggles right back, sitting back up and bouncing in her seat.
“Tell me everything!”
You can’t tell her everything.
You give her the bullet points; the thundersnow, the horses, Joel’s calves. You leave out that you were both naked under the blankets sharing whiskey, you leave out that he went down on you for hours and you definitely leave out the part about waking up against him and falling back asleep.
“He took really good care of me,” you finish up honestly. “I thought he was gonna be a jerk but he was great.”
“Really?” Jennifer almost beaming, like she’s proud she was right about him all along.
“Yeah, I was really scared and he was really patient that night.”
“See? I told you there was something to him.”
“I guess,” you shrug. “I think it was a storm thing though. He’s gone back to being an asshole so I wouldn’t hold my hopes up.”
“Did he mention me by any chance?”
You think of how to frame this. Yeah, Joel did mention Jennifer but none of his comments were particularly flattering. But when you recall how he looked at her coming back you think it might have been to cover up his feelings. He doesn’t seem like someone who can come out and express how he feels properly.
“Yeah, actually. You came up a few times.”
Jennifer giggles to herself and you know she wants to ask more about this but you’re tired and yawning and not long after she insists you go to sleep.
Your bed has never felt more comfortable but sleep takes its time coming to you. It keeps replaying the night before; the way Joel’s dark eyes reflected the fire, the strength of his hands on your body, his tongue between your legs.
You wish your mind didn’t keep going back to last night because all you can focus on is that Joel made you come, asked for nothing in return and then in the morning made it seem like nothing happened. Then as soon as you entered inside Jackson City he made it seem like he was furious with you.
The way he acted makes you wonder if you'd imagined all his kindness and his soft touches. But no, you can still feel the sensation of his tongue between your folds, his calloused hands on your thighs, the husky groan ordering you to come. You can't stop thinking about it, actually.
It’s there lulling you to sleep, a warmth simmering in your belly.
///
You sleep in the next day, well past the breakfast hour. You don’t mind though, Jennifer had you stuffed with food up until she left at midnight telling you she could stay if you needed her to. You’re still not used to this kind of friendship, still wary that it seems too good to be true.
A glance out the window shows that some snow has fallen since yesterday, but nothing too much. Outside your street is barely touched, the sun shining gently on the earth’s creation.
You get dressed quickly, padding yourself with extra warm clothes, your red scarf and your jacket. You pull on your boots dried by the previous day’s fire and you step into the chilly mid-morning.
You like to go to the quiet parts of Jackson for your walks, enjoying the solitude. It’s in the outer part of Jackson without being in the forest, a place you never venture to. It’s an abandoned neighborhood with old houses, fencing and more.
A sharp bark is at your back and you turn to see the familiar panting dog clumsily making his way over to you through the snow.
“Hey Buckley,” you coo when he gets close enough.
Buckley is a famous figure that roams Jackson City, a dog that belongs to everyone in a way. You think you heard someone say he was a border collie mixed with something else. He’s not always in town, often he’s found by the hydroelectric dam when he’s not snoozing at Gustavo’s feet listening to the banjo.
“You being a good boy?” you muse, scratching the back of his ear when he cocks his head.
He’s a friendly dog, rarely without his prized tennis ball. He doesn’t have it with him now, and you assume he’s lost it in the snow. You shake your head at him with a soft huffing laugh.
“You wanna join me on my walk?”
Sometimes it strange to walk through the underdeveloped parts of Jackson City. The ones with power lines that poke out like jagged tombstones. The asphalt that’s cracks when you walk on it during the hot months. But you come to stand before one of your favorite buildings, the ranch, smiling as the gentle breeze turns your cheeks pink. Buckley follows at your heels, the two of you slowed down by the snow.
You avoid the forest for obvious reasons, but you enjoy walking by the old ranch because it reminds you of the kind of place you read about in books. You think that it would be nice to live in it one day. You found it once during one of your morning walks when you first arrived at Jackson City, and it’s been a sort of touchstone for you ever since.
You walk up its creaking porch steps, your fingers touching the porch swing. You can imagine it spruced up, drinking lemonade while you watch the sunset. It’s a nice fantasy, but it will remain just that. You have no building skills, you are a single occupant and you imagine when Jackson City gets big enough they’ll reserve this place for a big family or turn it into something vital.
You walk inside, immediately at ease with the gold sun of the morning that filters in through the grimy windows. The entire place is built with that warm, honey-colored wood. Threadbare carpets litter the spaces, old furniture still standing. Buckley remains outside, keeping watch as is his prerogative. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him inside anywhere.
You move over the creaking floors, taking in the dusty floors before you touch the sails of the decorate boat resting on the mantle above the hearth, a little tradition of yours. Moth-eaten curtains hang like sad bits of hair over the windows, and you gasp a little when a rat skitters by in the dining room, going to hide in one of the old cabinets. With all the cold weather they are urged indoors and you have no desire to hurt them; that’s Buckley’s job.
You’re about to head upstairs when something in the next room stops you. The kitchen area creaks with the unmistakable sound of slow, heavy footsteps. Immediately you straighten, hands going for a gun that you’re not carrying.
Fuck.
What are you gonna do? Panic threatens to seize you until a voice; low and husky is there at your ear, quelling your heartbeat.
You learn pretty quick that anything can be a weapon. A book, a candlestick, even an unloaded gun can hit a pretty bad blow to the base of someone’s skull. You might not kill ‘em but you’ll hurt ‘em enough to get away.
Your eyes go wide, taking in the mantle behind you once more. The candlesticks aren’t that heavy, the sailboat decorative. There are some books in the next room but you’ll be seen. Then your eyes drift down to the hearth and you feel relief when you see the fire implements there. You grab the poker, sure not to upset the other brass items into clanging.
The footsteps are continuing getting closer and you force yourself to remember what Jennifer has been teaching you: slow your breathing, focus, think of something that takes you to that quiet place.
Homemade pies.
Lavender soap.
Sunlight on a summer morning.
Joel’s eyes.
Before you can consider this train of thought a figure suddenly makes their way around the corner of the room, looking curiously at their surroundings. You raise the poker above your head, charging at them with a furious shriek.
The man jumps back from you, watery pale eyes bulging out of his ruddy skull. He falls backwards onto the ground, holding a hand up to shield his face as you prepare to bring the poker down on his head.
“Please! Please! I live here! Please don’t hurt me!”
Something in the frantic way he yelps stills your motions, your breathing ragged as adrenaline courses through you. You lower the poker to your side, still not releasing it entirely.
He’s short and portly and he doesn’t look particularly frightening lying there quivering on the ground.
“You don’t live here,” you tell him sharply. “This place is empty.”
“I meant I live here in the community,” the man squeaks. He can’t be younger than sixty. “Well, in a sense. I-I mean, we just got here y-yesterday. I was just looking for the soap maker; I was told she’s nearby?”
You don’t sense any real danger from this man and now you step forward, holding a hand out to him. He winces at first, thinking you mean to hit him. Then he realizes you’re not threatening him and he takes your hand gingerly.
“I’m sorry,” the man says with his voice wobbling as you pull him to a stand. “I didn’t mean to startle.”
“It’s fine. I’ve just never run into anyone here. Raiders have been seen nearby and it’s a bit high tension around lately,” you explain.
“Oh I see,” the man nods. “That explains the welcome.”
You can’t help but laugh softly at that.
“I'm Arthur," the man says shaking your hand as you introduce yourself.
Normally you would keep to yourself, but today feels different. You feel different. It prompts you to keep your face pointed to the pale man.
"You said you were new to Jackson?"
"Wife and I just arrived last night," Arthur says with a shy smile, pushing his glasses up his narrow nose. "I'm still getting my bearings. She was so excited to have running water so I was looking for soap. Someone in town told me there’s a soap maker in this direction."
“I’ll show you the way,” you say, placing the fire poker back with the other instruments beside the hearth.
“Really?”
“Sure. Follow me.”
The two of you walk into the chill of the day, Buckley standing to attention when the two of you exit. You introduce Arthur to the dog and the two of you start on your journey. Arthur is a slow walker, especially in the snow, so it takes a bit longer than you normally would.
But strangely you don’t mind. You think you might be feeling powerful from earlier; you knew what to do in a time of panic. It makes you smile, your entire disposition cheerful as Arthur talks on next to you.
“I’d like to find some work as soon as possible.”
"Of course," you nod. "You have any experience in anything?"
"Not unless someone wants their portrait done," Arthur says with a smile that shows his crowded incisors. "Back in the QZ I did some teaching. Art classes and the like."
"They could always use someone like that here," you reason.
"You think?"
"I'm sure of it. Maybe at the school? What does your wife do?"
"Penny was in the business sector before the outbreak. In the QZ she did more manual positions, disposal that sort of thing. Do you think you could find her work in something similar here?"
"Oh, I'm not in charge if that sort of stuff," you smile. "But I know who is. I'll see her this week and tell her you're eager to help out. Can I get your address?"
They live at 64 Pine and while Arthur is more of the creative type, he and his wife both have experience with cooking as well. You make a note of this for when you see Maria later this week.
Normally Maria would be on top of this sort of thing. Before Douglas' she always gave the tour's to newcomers, always had them sorted with a job before the end of their first week. But now she's distracted and subsequently Tommy is too.
People like to give, she told you that first week. Makes them feel like they’re part of something.
You and Arthur chat companionably with Buckley trailing at your ankles through the snow. Arthur and his wife have been together for thirty five years, and they’ve made it from the Virginia QZ.
“Things were just too hairy over there,” Arthur says with a shake of his head. “Me and Penny figured we couldn’t keep living like that. We heard about Jackson City through an old CB a friend had. Seemed too good to be true.”
“I get that,” you nod. “The first month I was here I barely left my house. I was convinced my place would be given away the second I walked out the door.”
“The beds!” Arthur says with a dramatic emphasis on the words. “And those clean sheets? Everything is just so. . .Fresh.”
You’re at the soap maker’s home now and while it’s still early, you can hear Hannah rustling about inside. You know if you stay she’ll insist on having you in for coffee and you feel as if your social battery is already at its limit.
“This is where I’ll leave you,” you say indicating to the home ahead. “Inside is Hannah and Herb, they’ll set you up with some soap for you and your wife.”
“Thanks so much,” Arthur says pumping your hand in his.
“Can you make it back okay on your own?”
“I’m sure.”
You smile, about to turn and head back home when something stops you. You twist around, calling after Arthur who raises his brows.
“Do you ever draw portraits?”
“Of course,” Arthur nods.
“I mean, of people you don’t know,” you say, squinting as you try to recall the term. “Kinda like sketch artists did for the police back before?”
“I can’t say it’s a specialty, but I love a challenge,” Arthur says with a little skip to his step. “And considering you were kind enough to show me here I’d love to do it for you.”
“Thanks,” you say, feeling shy. “I might just take you up on it.”
///
You’re surprised to see Maria knocking on your door later that afternoon. She’s got a sleeping Douglas strapped to her chest with a sling and she’s carrying a pie in one hand.
“I would have been here the second you got back but I only heard from Tommy what was going on late last night,” she says when you invite her in.
“No problem,” you insist warmly. “I think he was doing it to save you some stress.”
“Yeah well he got an earful,” she says with a frown. “How could he not tell me my friend was missing during a storm?”
Friend. Another friend. An embarrassment of riches. You try to tamp down the pleased smile that bleeds across your face and instead give a gentle rub to Douglas’ head, giggling as he grunts and scrunches his nose.
You tell Maria about Arthur and Penny and she nods as she feeds Douglas.
"Yep, 64 Pine. I just sent them over a welcome basket and Tommy's gone there to give 'em jobs."
"Great," you smile. Your eyes go to the gently babbling Douglas in Maria's arms. “How does he get cuter every day?”
“Must be a Miller thing,” she says laughing. “I saw a picture of Sarah once and she was so adorable.”
This intrigues you to the point of distraction.
“You saw a picture of Sarah?”
Very few people had photos or memorabilia from their homes that survived Outbreak Day. You don’t know anyone personally who has photos of their family.
“Yeah, Tommy went back to Texas a while back. Got some stuff from his old place and he found a photo of Sarah to bring back.”
“Joel must have been so happy.”
“He didn’t take it,” Maria shrugs. “Think it was too hard for him.”
You fall silent for a moment, your irritation with Joel waning. It’s hard to be angry at him after everything that happened. You sometimes forget that he had a life before, that he had a daughter he’ll never see again. Despite your animosity for how he treated you earlier, you’re not devoid of compassion.
You just wish you could understand him.
You’re still pondering this hours after Maria has left when there’s a knock at your door. It creaks open when you call out to come in and a familiar set of light eyes greet you. Luke grins at you expectantly.
“You still up for shooting?”
“Oh shit, I forgot,” you place your teacup in the sink and hurriedly pull on your scarf and jacket.
“We don’t have to,” Luke starts. “Jenny can’t make it, but I thought it’d be good for us to get the practice.”
You flush happily at the thought of being alone with Luke. You enjoy being with him, it’s easy and uncomplicated.
You follow him down the street heading to the outskirts of the city, both of you armed with guns borrowed from Jennifer.
"So Jennifer isn’t going to shoot today?" You ask curiously.
"Nah she said something about running behind in textiles. Dunno what exactly,” Luke shrugs, before smiling back at you. “You going to the town meeting Wednesday?”
Town meetings have been going on since Jackson City was founded. A place to bring up impactful town business, updates, celebrations and more. You've only been to one, finding it pretty dull for the most part. But as you become more a part of the community you find you want to know more of what goes on around you.
"Yeah I think I will."
The two of you fall into a comfortable rhythm that afternoon and you’re surprised at how easily the conversation flows even without Jenny there. Luke is funny and sweet and when you shoot your first can he’s right there to lift you into his arms and spin you around.
“That was amazing!”
“I can’t believe it!” you say, pink-cheeked and delighted.
You’re still on a high when you head back into town an hour or so later, chatting animatedly about how your shooting is actually improving thanks to Jennifer. You wish she had been there to see it today.
“Not just one can, but four,” Luke whistles in amazement as you both make your way to the center of town. “And I could only got one.”
“But it was really far away so it counts as two,” you insist with a giggle. Luke grins down at you, pulling you into a companionable side hug.
“You’re too kind.”
Your entire body lights up with the contact of Luke's arm around you. You’re about to say something more when a gruff voice sounds out from behind you.
“You sign those guns out?”
You and Luke spin to face the speaker.
Joel.
He’s standing there, leather coat done up looking intimidating. His dark eyes are going to where Luke holds you around the shoulder.
Instinctively you take a half step away from Luke, feeling strangely wrong-footed at having his arm around you, as if you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t.
Luke is busy looking at Joel in confusion. “Huh?”
“The guns you’re carryin’,” Joel says sharply, tongue lodged in the corner of his mouth as he appraises the both of you, taking a step closer. “They gotta be signed out if you’re practicin’. Need to keep track of ‘em for safety.”
Everyone who comes to Jackson City knows this, it’s taught during your welcome. Public weapons used for patrols need to be signed out from the armory, the ammo is doled out in specific numerations to keep the city stocked and prepared.
“They’re Jenny’s,” Luke explains patiently. “From her own collection. She lends them to us for practice.”
“Ammo too?”
“Yep.”
Joel makes a grunting noise in Luke’s direction, but his eyes don’t leave your face. You feel your cheeks prickling with embarrassment at being talked down to. And for what reason? Why is Joel being such an asshole this week?
“Is that all, Joel?” you challenge, feeling your hackles rising.
Joel frowns at you, jaw ticking and then without a word he strides past you and Luke, ducking into one of the shops that line the main street. You watch him leave, stiff-shouldered and long-legged and you shake your head.
“Man that guy is such an asshole,” Luke murmurs to you as the two of you continue your walk towards the other shops. “What’s his problem?”
“Honestly, I have no idea.”
///
Midweek one early morning you decide to pay a visit to Chestnut with a contraband carrot. You’ve been worrying about him since you returned from that overnight patrol shift, but your visit shows he’s no worse for wear. He clops over to you and cheerfully takes the carrot as you pet him.
There's something comforting about the scent of hay in the paddock, of Chestnut's glossy eyes and the strength of his ribs under your palm. Something that grounds you when you're here alone, listening to the strangely relaxing sound of him munching on his carrot. You've broken it in half, concerned that you might upset his diet.
He deserves it after all he went through last week.
You feel eyes on you and you glance over your shoulder to see Midnight circling around his paddock. Chestnut continues to snack away on his carrot piece, not even acknowledging when you drift over to Midnight.
"Hi, boy."
You take the other half of the carrot and move closer to where Midnight stares balefully out at you from the corner of his paddock. He watches you with widened eyes, making a huffing noise as you near, hand outstretched with the carrot half resting in the center of your palm.
Midnight's known you for months, but he still treats you like a stranger to be wary of. For a moment you wonder what his story is.
"Here you go," you coo, balancing on the fencing separating the two horses. "You deserve a treat too."
The glossy black head swings slowly, the scent catching him and it's not long before he begins inching towards you.
With a soft smile on your lips you hold your palm flat and feel the velvet brush of his mouth as he takes the carrot piece. You feel victorious by this minute surrender and smile toothily at the creature. You think about stroking his mane but decide you'd best not push your luck.
You turn when you hear your name being called and you're delighted to see its Ellie. She comes jogging towards you, looking as if she's getting ready to go to school.
"Hey, I haven't seen you in the dining hall lately," you greet as she comes your way.
"Nah, wanted to hang out with Joel this week," she explains and you hold in the urge to make a sympathetic face. You know his disappearance must have rattled her.
She looks at Midnight relaxing in his paddock and stretches out her fingers in his direction. You watch in quiet amazement as the creature ambles over to her, allowing her to start petting his twitching side. Ellie sure has a knack for taming the untamable.
"You like horses?" you ask Ellie, watching as the girl pets Chestnut’s ears.
“Yeah, I can ride too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, sorta. Winston this soldier back in the zone gave me lessons.” She glances up at you. “How do you know how to ride?”
“When I was really little my parents got me riding lessons. I loved it, kept going with it. Did some competitions. I was still riding up until Outbreak Day.”
“Wow. That’s awesome.” Ellie gnaws at her chapped lower lip, scratching absently at her covered arm. She looks like she’s trying to summon up the courage for something and then you both speak at once.
“Are you okay?-“
“-You wanna come over on Thursday night?”
You pause, her words hitting you belatedly.
“Where? To your place?”
“Yeah,” Ellie nods. She smiles at Chestnut, her eyes disappearing when she does. “For a special dinner.”
You and Joel Miller together in the same house again? After he’s been such a colossal asshole to you for no reason this week?
Not a chance.
“We could do dinner at my place,” you suggest airily. “I could make us something special.”
“Nah, I wanna do it at mine. On Thursday. I’ll make us all something really special.” She looks nervously at you. “Could you bring dessert?”
The request makes you huff a laugh. “Like what?”
“A cake?”
You grin as you watch her pet Chesnut, but you don’t reply. Thoughts of being in Joel’s home don’t really fill you with ease or cheer. She pauses when she sees your hesitation.
“Joel wanted me to ask you to come.”
This gives you pause and your brows rise to your hairline.
“Joel invited me to have dinner with you both?”
“Yeah,” Ellie nods resolutely. “You know Joel. He’s a grumpy asshole and he’s shit at communicating. But he told me to invite you, so can you make it?”
Is it possible that this is Joel extending an olive branch? Maybe he feels bad knowing how bizarrely he’s treated you this week. Maybe he’ll even explain why he’s suddenly been so frosty.
You consider this, eyes stuck on Chestnut’s mane as your fingers twirl in it. You can feel Ellie’s hopeful expression facing you and so you sigh quietly before flashing her a tentative smile.
“Chocolate cake okay?”
///
Town meetings take place inside the old church at the edge of town. The chapel itself is filled with creaking pews and tall stained glass windows.
People use it on Sundays, those that still believe in something in this empty world. You don't attend; you stopped believing a long time ago. During town meetings though the religious iconography is removed and placed off to the side.
Down the steps is the large recreation space used for dances and parties and the like. You've never gone to any, finding the idea too intimating since you didn't know anyone. The space is mostly filled, as all town meetings are. It's recommended that one person from each family attend to keep appraised of what's happening in the community.
This evening you and Jennifer slip into the end of a pew near the back, the back of your knees braced against the chilled wood.
"Oh there's Luke," Jennifer whispers, hitting your shoulder with hers gently. "Must've come with the guys."
You follow her eye line to see Luke sitting with some of the guys you recognize from breakfasts with Jennifer. He's laughing with them, chatting casually. He looks handsome tonight, his hair brushed back and his muscled arms crossed over his chest. You can't help but notice the way his mouth curves, looking so inviting.
You surprise yourself with how attracted you are to him this evening. You can't explain it, but you wish his hands were on you. Wish he was taking you to bed.
You worry that Joel's actions the other night have opened something in you, something that craves a man between your legs, a tongue tracing the buds of your nipples, fingers tracing shapes into your flesh.
You squirm slightly in your seat before focusing your attention elsewhere when a flash of red hair catches your eyes and you stand, making your way across the aisle.
“Hi Arthur," you greet with a smile. He's sitting with a tall woman with very red hair and is covered in tattoos. Delicate black lined things that wrap around her one arm and across her neck. She's like walking artwork that you can't stop staring at.
"Oh it’s you!” Arthur beams up at you from where he sits. “This is my wife Penny I was telling you about."
The woman turns her bulging eyes at you, yellowed at the corners. She smiles and gives you a crooked smile.
"Pleased to meet you," she says with a sharp drawl. "My husband says you’re to thank for the soap?”
“No no,” you laugh. “I just showed him where to find it.”
“And she didn’t bludgeon me even when she had the chance,” Arthur adds. The three of you chuckle together and you can’t help but watch the images on Penny’s lean neck jump when she laughs.
"Those tattoos are beautiful," you tell her, momentarily hypnotized.
"Arthur did them for me back in the QZ," Penny says with a shy grin. "Stick and poke if you can believe it. Self taught."
"Really? That's really impressive, Arthur."
Arthur ducks his head, looking momentarily shy. He pushes his glasses up his long nose bashfully.
"He makes everything he touches pretty," Penny says proudly. "S'the thing I love most about him."
"That's such a beautiful idea," you say without thinking. You bid them farewell before taking your seat next to Jennifer who’s deep in conversation with one of the women you’ve seen in the dining hall.
You scan the chapel and see that Maria sits in the front row, her baby strapped to her front. People talk to her but she looks strangely overwhelmed. Maria has never been like that, always been strong and confident. You try to catch her eye, to give her a reassuring smile but she doesn't turn in your direction.
Tommy pushes into the chapel by eight and ambles to the front of the room. He gives Maria a gentle kiss to the crown of her head before stepping behind the podium and waving at the gathered collective. When they see him the voices dim and he shoots a grateful look at the crowd.
"Hi y'all, thanks for comin' out on this cold night when I know you’d rather be at the Bison." He pauses as light chuckles fill the room. "We got a few things happenin' this month and I wanted y'all to be aware."
There's a shuffling behind you, a scrape of boot against wood grain. The pew creaks gently as a figure is seated down, his very presence setting your pulse skyrocketing.
Joel.
You'd know it just by the cadence of his walk; that light drag at the end of each step. The scent of leather from his jacket and almond from the soap he uses. The way the air seems to warm and grow heavy where he sits.
A part of you wants to turn your head, to confirm it's who you think. But the other wants nothing more than for Joel to stay away until the dinner with Ellie. After the way he's been treating you this week you don't want to be anywhere near him and his volatility without her as a buffer.
You feel the ends of your hair catch against the pew and you shift, running your hand absently through your crown to loosen it as you turn your focus back to Tommy at the front of the chapel.
"Well to start us off, we got some new blood here tonight and I wanna introduce 'em," Tommy says giving a small smile to the left side of the room. "This is Arthur and Penny. They come from Virginia. They're gonna be helping out in the school and with sanitation. Welcome to Jackson city."
Arthur and Penny stand up in their pew. The two of them give shy waves as the group claps, some calling out well wishes of welcome as Arthur goes pink in the cheeks.
"They're the sweetest couple," you comment.
"I love her tattoos," Jennifer replies as she claps. "So beautiful."
The couple sits and the clapping ebbs. Tommy looks down at his piece of paper of notes hurriedly scrawled.
"Now I'm gonna turn things over to Jacob Linden," he says before stepping down from the podium and taking his place next to Maria. You watch as his arm goes around her, holding her to him.
Jacob Linden is a sweet man of about sixty with narrow grey eyes and pale blonde hair. He always wears blue jeans and a sweater, even in the heat of the summer.
His partner passed years before he got to Jackson City and he wears a small locket with his photograph in it to remember him. He touches it now, a little nervously as he steps up to the podium.
"One of the ideas I've been kicking around is having a bi-weekly music night," the man says almost shyly as he looks around at all the faces. "A time for the town to come gather and listen to people play. Maybe in the dining hall after meals?"
There's murmurs of interest around the room. You and Jennifer exchange smiles at the idea, knowing very well that you'll attend. Jennifer is always going on about how there's nothing to do in the evenings in town except drink.
"I'm wondering if there are any musicians who'd like to join in?" Jacob asks tentatively. "We'll take turns deciding what tunes to play and you'll have all the coffee and tea you can drink."
You're surprised when amongst a few others, Luke shoots his hand up. Jennifer must be taken aback as well because she leans over to you, her voice warm in your ear.
"I didn't know he played."
"Me neither."
"Shhhh."
You both flinch at the volume of Joel's shushing. Several nearby people glance over their shoulders in your direction and you feel your cheeks pink. Jennifer shoots you an admonished look and you hold in your eye roll to the best of your abilities before turning your attention back to Tommy at the front of the church.
"Now, next up, I'm sure you've heard the rumors of Raiders up on the patrol routes."
Gentle whispers move around the room like hissing campfires being extinguished.
"So I need y'all to be even more vigilant than usual," Tommy explains. "That means you see anything and I mean anything strange, you come and tell me or Maria, Hank or Joel. And you can spread that around."
You hear him shift on the bench behind you. It's like your ears are so attuned to him that even as Tommy goes over the safety procedures all you can focus on is the shift of Joel's weight in the pew, the scrape of his boots on the ground, the rough way he clears his throat.
You don't know why but you're pissed off. Maybe you're anxious about the raiders, nervous about patrols tomorrow, whatever it is, you feel like a bow pulled extremely taut and Joel’s presence plucks irritatingly at the string.
"Do you think Luke wants to grab a drink after this?" Jennifer breaks into your thoughts, head tilted towards your shoulder. “I wanna ask him about his playing.”
“Me too, I was-”
Before you can say anything more you hear Joel give that same annoying noise and it feels like it's aimed directly into the back of your head.
"Shhhh."
For some reason this is your limit. The grating sound has you twisting around in your seat and fixing him with a glare. He sits with his face arranged in a look of casual indifference; you only know that he's paying attention to you by the steady gaze of his dark eyes.
"If you can't hear, sit closer next time," you hiss. "Not our fault you're half deaf."
You don't miss the sharp intake of breath from Jennifer or the narrowing of Joel’s gaze on your face.
Before he can say anything back to you, you slide from the pew towards the back of the church. You need a minute to calm down because irritation is boiling your blood. You know you’re going to say something rude if you stick around.
You give polite smiles at the few people you pass on your way out, your feet taking you to where it's quiet in the alcove. You think this is where they must have prepared communion or something similar, but now it just houses extra chairs and tables. The window is barely seen over the dented wood tables with their rusty metal legs.
You close the door after you, trying to quell the furious beating of your heart.
What the fuck is his problem? Is he so regretful of what happened that night that he’s doubling down on being a prick? And why the fuck is he having you over for dinner if he obviously despises everything you do?
There's a scrape of feet behind you and the air attains that same heavy, warm feeling. You turn, not surprised to see a furious looking Joel closing the door behind him. His lips are twisted into a thin curve of displeasure.
Fuck this.
You go to walk by him when he jerks out an arm, slapping his palm against the wall in front of you and effectively cutting you off from your exit. He stares you down as he cranes his neck towards you, forcing you to keep his gaze.
"Where do you get off talkin' to me like that?" Joel says between gritted teeth. He looms over you, everything about him saying submit. And normally this would work, normally you would cower but tonight you're at your limit.
"I'll talk to you any damn way I want," you say, cheeks a blotchy red.
“You sure fuckin’ won’t.”
“I sure fucking will,” you snap back, keeping your voice low enough not to carry into the chapel.
Joel gets up in your face, his nose practically touching yours.
"If you wanna run your goddam mouth, I'm gonna fill it."
It flies out of Joel’s mouth before he's had time to realize what he's said. He regrets it the minute it hits the air. It's there in the telltale opening of his lids just a fraction too wide, is in the pink crawling up his neck.
But you’re completely over it, over Joel, over the entire situation. He makes you cum how many times? Let’s you open up to him? And now he’s acting as if you’ve done him a cruelty?
Fuck him.
"With what, Joel? Your cock?���
Joel’s eyes fly open wide.
“I don't want anything to do with you or your cock ever again," you bite off. "You're selfish and arrogant-"
"Enough."
Joel’s jaw is ticking something worrisome, his hands in loose fists at his sides. But he doesn’t intimidate you anymore. He’s just a man like all the rest of them.
"What?” You sneer broadly. “Worried you can only keep it up if the woman’s on her knees doing all the work or half asleep, Joel?”
"Shut the fuck up."
You've never spoken to anyone like this in your entire life, but letting Joel have it right here in this moment feels good.
No, it feels better than good, it feels amazing.
Years of repressed anger and frustration are bubbling to surface and you feel heady, almost powerful from it. It feels better than sex or lust or forgiveness. It flows freely from you like a song, brutally cutting notes that slice into Joel and he winces.
"It's the truth," you laugh cruelly. "I mean when's the last time you fucked properly without having t-"
You break off as Joel's hands slap on either side of the striped wallpaper beside your arms, coming to box you in against the wall. His face is so thunderous that any laughter in your expression withers away like fruit on a vine.
There’s the sound of muffled laughter outside of the room in the chapel. Tommy is charming the audience, but all you can focus on is the man in front of you. Of his broad shoulders and muscled arms. Of his steely gaze and wide palms as one slides off the wall and comes to grip your hip.
And before you can properly think, Joel is crowding you against the wall, his pelvis pressing harshly into yours. You stare up at him, body trembling but you’re concerned because it’s not in fear.
Your nipples tighten, your pupils blow wide and all you can focus on is the heavy bulge that he presses between your thighs.
“You think I can’t make you come like a little slut for me right here and now?”
Joel is breathing heavily through his nose, his gaze on your mouth before flicking to meet your eyes. He continues to pin you there, mouth slightly ajar as he begins to unbutton your jeans, his dark eyes never leaving yours.
His fingers rest on the zipper, pausing only to watch your expression. When moments pass you realize he's waiting for you to tell him to stop, trying to call your bluff. But instead you tilt your head back in silent challenge.
You'd expected fury in the face of your combative non-verbal reply but are met with something altogether different from Joel.
Lust.
You see only a flicker of it in Joel's gaze, the darkening of his eyes before his face lowers to yours. His fingers lower the zipper of your jeans and now your bravado leaves you as you tilt away from him, your eyes fluttering. You feel his warm breath on the side of your face, slow and heavy. He waits there, fingers stilled on the zipper’s tongue.
You don’t move, your cheeks flaming as you realize what’s about to happen. You don’t know how to act or what to do.
“Why you actin' all shy now?" Joel mocks against your earlobe. "You think I didn't hear you in the bathroom playin' with yourself all those times on patrol? Think I don’t know how bad you wanna come right now?"
Your face feels so hot you feel it would sizzle if a droplet of water landed on it. Joel has known all this time? Every time you thought you were had privacy he's known? Has likely heard the whimpering cries you give out when you climax. For all you knew he could have been standing outside the door listening. Why does that thought make your stomach swoop?
"I don't-" you start but the words are sticky on your tongue.
But now the zipper is lowered and his fingers move swiftly down the front of your panties, hitting the slick of your cunt almost immediately and curling. You give a huff of surprise, finding your thighs widening without thought to take more of him. He slides his fingers to the knuckle, groaning when he sees it’s making your eyelids flutter.
"Maybe I don't have to try that hard after all," Joel croons. "Looks like you've been waiting for me."
“Have not,” you deny weakly, jaw clenched and glare fixed on your face.
“Then I should stop,” Joel mocks as his fingers slowly begin to pump in and out of your squelching cunt. “Right?”
You say nothing, finding it near impossible not to touch him. All you can do is cling to his shoulders, fingertips leaving half-moon crescents in his skin through the fabric. Your face is buried in his neck, trying to stifle your moans.
You feel Joel’s smug smile against your temple as his thick finger curl within your velvet slot, his thumb rubbing your clit in time with his pumps. He groans softly when you arch back, hand at his collar for purchase.
“Fuck, yeah, like that,” Joel chants, his warm breath buffeting your face.
He tilts his head, tongue going to the side of his mouth in thought. You wonder what he sees when he stares down at you, pink cheeks and glassy eyes? The sheer desperation in your glazed expression? You feel your release being coaxed forth, sweet and syrupy but something holds you back.
You feel that ripple of pleasure begin but you nervously tense everywhere and Joel’s face flies towards yours.
"I know what you feel like when you're close," Joel rasps, his full lips crushed against your ear, breath hot. "Don't fight it."
You feel your pulse ticking wildly in your neck and you wonder if Joel can sense it. But you need something from him, something that you didn’t realize. You turn your gaze to his, imploring.
"Tell me to come," you whisper, hips rutting against his hand. "Please Joel, tell m-me-"
You break off with a sharp gasp and his wide hand immediately goes to cover your mouth, muffling the sounds from escaping into the chapel while the other works between your legs in that same steady way.
"You're gonna come for me," Joel rasps against your ear. "Right here, with the whole town on the other side of this wall."
Your eyes roll back in your head at the command, pleasure flooding you everywhere. Joel's fingers are sliding in and out of you, curling to hit that sweet hidden spot your own fingers just can't reach, thumb rubbing your clit.
"You're gonna come on my fingers right here," he continues, breath hot in your ear when he sees your reaction. "Cuz I said so."
You can't speak since his hand is still sealed over your mouth but you can nod shallowly, hips rolling as you begin to climb that pleasured peak that has your body tensing. He feels it, his dark eyes moving from your face to where his fingers enter you over and over, curling and coaxing.
Your hands fist in his flannel when you feel that white stripe of pleasure overtake you. And despite how inappropriate this is you feel yourself falling off the edge.
"Go on then," Joel groans huskily. "Be a good girl and do it."
At those words all that tension that's been building in your lower belly suddenly releases, sending you jerking against Joel, gasping against his palm.
"Mhm," Joel murmurs approvingly. His praise sets you off, your next orgasm overtaking the first, bleeding into one another and your legs tremble. He holds you in place with his hips, his fingers moving slickly between your thighs.
Joel's broad hand moves from your mouth to cradle the back of your head, forcing your mouth press against the skin of his neck, muffling your cries. You continue to twitch, your whimpers seeping into his skin like ink on paper.
"Uh huh, just like that," Joel murmurs, his fingers keeping their steady pace as your pelvis ruts against his hand faster and faster. "Just like that.”
Just like that. Just like that.
Nothing else exists except for his voice and your pleasure. Not the townspeople, not the warning of Raiders that set you off, not the fear of the unknown. Just Joel's warm, steady voice telling you to come.
“I know you can gimme another one.”
Just like that night of the snow in, he consumes you leaving you whimpering his name into his neck, fingers gripping his flannel for dear life as he coaxes your next orgasm from you.
"Give it to me," he demands, groaning as you arch into him. "S’mine."
Your entire body tenses at that husky order and your release comes over you in waves. Your eyes roll back, and you cry out, your mouth sealed against Joel’s taut neck. You can hear him far away, murmuring that’s right and good fuckin’ girl.
You feel your pussy pulse around his fingers, milking them. Arousal drips down his wrist, his fingers not ceasing their steady continuous rhythm until you give one final shake, exhaling heavily against his palm.
Finally you go limp and his fingers slow and finally slide from between your legs. You realize that you're still fisting his flannel, your mouth still open against his warm neck. You raise your head, eyes heavy and glazed. You do it just in time to see Joel slide the fingers coated in your glossy arousal between his lips and suck, his eyes fluttering closed.
Your knees buckle.
He catches you, a flash of amusement in his honeyed voice.
"Steady," he mutters against your cheek. "Steady."
You stare up at him, your breathing still deep and uneven as he holds you against him. You tilt your head back slightly so you can better view him. Joel looks completely fucked out, cheeks flushed, his dark curls falling into his eyes that sweep your face, lingering on your parted lips. Like magnets you feel as he drifts towards you, his mouth so close to yours you can feel the warmth of his breath on your tongue.
Suddenly the sound of creaking pews, chatter and footsteps sound out.
The meeting is over.
Joel's hands immediately fly from your body at the sound and he steps back, straightening to his full height. The darkness is back in his eyes and that displeased countenance he wears like a mask firmly settles over his features.
“Don’t wanna keep you from gettin’ drinks with your boyfriend,” he rumbles darkly.
He strides away from you quickly, his boots scuffing along the floorboards until he's outside the room, the door closing behind him with a snick. You assume he’s rejoined the rest of the group as they exit to avoid suspicion, but you can’t do the same because your legs feel like rubber.
You stay leaning against the wall, face flushed and pulse ticking. Your breathing is shaky as you look around the room, the same and yet changed.
What the fuck just happened?
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#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller smut#smut#fanfiction#fanfic#pedro pascal#dad joel miller#dark!joel x reader#dark!joel miller#dark!joel#so much to lose#slow burn
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Apropos of nothing, do you remember that idea we discussed where Adrien & Chloe swap parents but keep the same default coping mechanisms/temperaments?
So Adrien spends a lo of time day dreaming & basically lives near full time in a sort of Chat Noir-esc persona minus the hero elements & tends to try and draw others into it.
Meanwhile for Chloe everything is a fight, all the time, but there's also no real victory, its an endless staircase where meeting wining is just the new standard for 'acceptable'.
Let me wondering what dynamics would have emerged in such an AU.
Like,
Adrien is probably more popular than Chloe ever was, but also likely even easier to manipulate or use. With Chloe in canon its mostly directing her anger that is nominally easy, while here it'd be simple to get Adrien to buy stuff for people or give out tickets ETC.
I imagine the 'issue' is that he's not much for social boundaries or restraint so he can become clingy very quickly and get very upset if he feels rejected.
Chloe meanwhile may only be going to school to get away from her father or even as a pride thing, "People will think I only succeed because you pay people" or cos Adrien was going through a rough patch maybe. Probably a combo.
I think her default temperament would be closer to Gabriel or Kagami's. She's colder and more urbane than canon, but still very blunt at best. Still she reserves hostility for competition, where its let out as nearly unchecked but very targeted aggression. She's not as disliked due to not picking a fight with everything that moves & being a bit more restrained, but she basically viewed as an ice queen.
In this regard,
Adrien is probably the only person off the cuff to be able to be particularly affectionate or playful with Chloe. Cos he's been around long enough that he kind of exists outside her normal perspective. Similarly, Chloe can be rougher around the edges with Adrien than most others & he doesn't take it badly as he knows she's never leaving him.
I am unsure where Sabrina or Marinette would end up in this scenario, maybe they are friends?
Without having to deal with Chloe's bulldozer personality for several years Marinette may be more confident. Not a Queen Bee exactly, but definitely the go to girl. How well said confidence holds up to a challenge however is unclear.
Sabrina likely is still rather neurotic about needing to feel useful to others given that attitude stems from Roger. So she might volunteer a to in class, and be another "Easy to take advantage of" person.
Kagami, her & Chloe's relationship would be interesting I feel cos it'd bemore overtly a rivarly. But I think regarded very differently by both.
To Chloe, Kagami is a peer, a foe, someone to overcome; someone who can nd has defeated her and she hates it, even if part of her is drawn towards her regardless.
For Kagami she'd start of being like, "Ooh marvelous competition, such an aggressive dueling style!" only to realize Chloe takes 'ZERO' pleasure in this, or almost anything she does. So for her part of it would almost be wanted to crack the shell, or dethaw the ice queen.
Beyond that... Yeah no clue, though I imagine Chloe & Gabriel are on less good terms than Adrien & Gabriel were, but also more subtly.
Like, Adrien was more open expressing frustration or resentment with his father, but still wanted his love and hoped he'd warm up. Meanwhile I feel for Chloe it'd have become so tense and toxic at least since Emilie died that while she wants tp prove herself to him, its another challenge, a contest, a battle of wills to her. here's no real hope for love or warmth, she just wants to win.
ALso realize why I thought of this, low key imagining her having an Akuma with somehting like this happening: https://youtu.be/tWTQyCrq0Ts?si=R5_KSbqtZGd4ok5w&t=290
Start at 4:50 if interested.
We have different ideas of this! So I'll lay mine out.
Adrien: I think you're still clinging to the 'good boy Adrien' of canon and warping what we're doing here to fit that. Adrien i not evil, but he is not *socially functional* here. He is not transaction based, he is escapism personified. Might he be nice to talk to? Yes. But ay any given moment he might tangent off into a lore dump of one of the (many) worlds he's made up entirely in his head. Not only that, he might just start larping it at you without warning and without any indication even *he* is aware he's crossed the boundary.
Think 'ahaha I have ADHD so bad watch my hyperfixate!' only not in the quirky tumblresque manner but in the actual social impairment manner. He's not anti-social he's A-social, and there is a small chance if his 'reality' is challenged he MIGHT get aggressive. Most people can humor hi, and his manner can be fun for a while, but it can also be extremely draining. Only a few people can handle it 'full time'.
Chloé: I think you're adding canon spice here again, keeping the ire-antagonist angle. I see it much more as competition for the sake of the *competition*. She needs another award. Being an 'ice queen' is wasted effort. Being mean would indicate a level of attention to people that most are just not worth.
The difference can be highlighted with Kagami for example- Kagami might seek a rivalry(she enjoys them. There's a form of connection and socialization in acknowledging a peer and beating/losing to them specifically) Chloe just couldn't care less. You're an opponent for the length of a match, then the match is over and there's another, and another, until a trophy is won or lost and then it's on to the next competition. There's no reviewing; no bitterness nor pride. As soon as the trophy is won or lost it's worthless as is everything involved in winning it. It's not a snide or dismissive attitude(again, that would take effort) it's just a sort of detched/focused 'Next Quest!' mentality. She is the 'questing knight'.
I don't think Chloe would make connections with most people(for obvious weapons) and could definitely make a terrible first impression. However those who knows her (from a distance obvi) would often have a 'stand back and check this out' mentality. She's not great to talk to but just *seeing what she'll do next* is entertaining, success or failure.
now Sabrina and Marinette
Sabrina: If we're keeping her as knowing and being devoted to Chloe via family ties, then she would be 'Squire' to Chloé's knight. Constantly there with a spare foil, a new pencil, or a towel. She's a one-girl cheering section who takes more pride in Chloé's achievements than Chloé does herself(though she never touts them when Chloe is around, since Chloé takes a negative view on all past victories as 'meaningless') If you want Chloe to focus on you, just pick on Sabrina. You'll feel her eyes boring a hole in you before she tackles you, if you're lucky.
If Sabrina is instead attached to Adrien through connections then she'll be his playmate and partner in all his fantasies. She's an 'Adrien Whisperer' who remembers each of his worlds and all the little details for ease of translation. She enjoys her status as the one constant in his worlds, and guards it a little jealously. She's good for his peace of mind, but probably bad for any sense of healthy socialization for him, as she would view any effort to 'bring him into the real world' as bad.
Marinette: In regards to Chloé, Marinette would definitely have some oppositional issues. Marinette likes competition and winning, but she likes it from the social aspect. Rivalry is fun(as long as it's light, Kagami can be a bit intense for her) but all her attempts to engage Chloé slide right off. 'I'll get you next time!' elicits a shrug at best. 'Ha I beat you!' elicits even less. Similarly attempts to ingratiate fall flat. Gifts are unwelcome, praise earns eyerolls. Marinette is stubborn though, so her long term goal would be to figure out this being who is so antithetical to herself. She'll find a way to *matter* to Chloe some how. The worst thing for asomeone with only child syndrome is being ignored. 🤣
With Adrien Marinette would be both enamored and repulsed. It would create quite the internal struggle for her. He's Gorgeous, and he's oh so creative! She loves his little head-worlds and could listen to him talk about them forever. *BUT* when he acts them out, when he brings the imaginations into reality. She gets intense second-hand embarrassment. She projects her own insecurity at being seen as immature onto him and it eats at her. So their relationship becomes a push-pull of: does she pull him out of his fantasy worlds? Does she learn to set aside her embarrassment? Do they meet somewhere in the middle? Does the attraction overcome the hurdles? (Is Sabrina an obstacle?) How does she know if Adrien is attracted to her, or the her in his head? Who is the her in his head? With him having such a vivid imagination she might feel very exposed around him. He *thinks* about her, and she can't hide in his head.
I hope some of this long winded explanation helped.
#ask#miraculous au#Parent Swap#coping mechanisms remain#I know the coping remaining isn't realistic but those were the ground rules#chloe bourgeois#marinette dupain cheng#adrien agreste#sabrina raincomprix
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I love my therapist. She's the best combo of supportive and takes-no-bullshit.
#shes also queer and female so. you know. she Gets It#had a very emotional meeting today with her#i was talking about how my sifu said i needed to forgive some people in my life when i told him how they were stressing me out#and it really messed me up#bless my therapist for having the distance to see the picture clearer than i did#but also the perspective thats similar enough to mine to understand why that bothered me so much#i worked hard for this anger#this anger is mine and i am not giving it up#and being told that i need to forgive people who have refused to reciprocate the care i give them?#feels like another tiny cut when im already bleeding from thousands of them#irl shit#i have Big Feelings#sometimes i require professional guidance to wrangle said feelings#i dont wanna talk about it
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Well I did my best to contain the leak, banged on the walls until my hands started to hurt, rambled with increasing hysteria about how fucking Bullshit this is, and Now I think I'm gonna go back to sleep.
Because it's 6 Goddamned am. Not even dawn yet. And I have to work in a few hours :)
#speculation nation#negative/#with predictable results my hand hurts a lot actually. i was taking my anger out on those walls.#im way too fucking keyed up to sleep rn but im gonna try to relax#bc ive only gotten like 4 hours of sleep. and that is Not Enough.#i am so seriously pissed off even if ive tired myself out#if my landlord isnt prompt and decisive in responding to this & doesnt give me a DAMN good reason this is happening#for the THIRD. GODDAMNED TIME THIS YEAR.#im going to leave a bad review or SOMETHING bc this is fucking ridiculous. this is FUCKING ridiculous.#i think my upstairs neighbors are different from the past two times. maybe.#but if i have to deal with this for a Fourth time i really might just break something.#im losing my goddamned fucking mind at 6 in the FUCKING morning because my floors are soaking wet.#and i havent heard any movement from the unit above mine#bitch.
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I've been having some uncharacteristically violent dreams since I got sick
#mine#dream journal#at some point I rly gotta re-standardise that tag#anyway I haven't been updating on my dreams bc I've been exhausted but... there's def been a change#I've had a recurring dream where I beat up my own mother. and it's not the usual soft punches I give in dreams.#that one confuses me bc... I'm actually not mad at mum? why am I having dreams of fighting her?#the second dream is a first for me. I'm the second oldest in a quiverful family.#which ... I guess makes sense bc I did fall down the fundie snark rabbithole a couple months ago?#anyway in the dream the eldest daughter gets shot and without hesitation I grab the gun and pull the trigger on the gunman#but the gun's out of bullets so I jus kick the shit out of him.#that part I can't rly guess where it came from.#neither of the dreams feels like a nightmare despite ... everything. I feel anger once provoked and then numb after I start the attack.#the other thing both dreams have in common is that I'm avenging my sister. I don't know why that's on my brain bc irl rn she's been a pain.#and I can't blame her attitude on covid.#yanno I expected stress dreams and bizarre fever dreams but these aren't stressful in the normal way and they're too cohesive for a fever#covid-19 for the historians
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.
#so fucking useless i can't even fathom this night#i feel like shit#my friends were targeted by this fucking asshole and all i could do was try to talk to them and amenize things#my best friend couldn't even talk to me out of anger and i just left to give her space even though i should have stayed#and endured her anger and been there for her#and literally fucking kill that guy because he doesn't deserve the air he breathes#i just don't know i can't do anything and i was justthere witnessing things happen and couldn't even help at all#and then i cried like it was even anything to do with me when it wasn't but i am so tired of everything#personal#if i see him again it's on like donkey kong i might have drank a lot of beer but i this is not just today this has been going on#since months bc he's an abusive fuck and this is what he wanted all along to strike up shit with us#because he KNEW it would make a spetacle in front of a lot of people that don't know him#and would take his side and say we are the crazy ones#but at least my entire village came together to try and stop violence and put and end to it before it escalated further#but tbh that asshole should have his ass beat so badly he ends up in the urgencies and stays there for weeks#i wish killing without repercussion was legal for abusive pricks like this one fuck him i hope he dies i don't even care +#if that makes me a bad person#you mess with mine i will throw the entire malocchio i can think of on you
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∙ 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘺 ∙
Dark!Paul atreides x pregnant fem reader
(Smut included)
• pt2 •
࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎
Only one day after Paul’s near death experience, there was more drama, 𝗢𝗳 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲. Since Paul drank the worms blood, he had been slightly 𝗗𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁..
He was very, very protective over you. He always had been, but after waking up from your tears, he was worse. It had only been a day, and you were already becoming tired of it.
This morning as you walked around the temple, some Fremen came up to you, greeting you and taking your hand into their own. Although this had happened to you multiple times now, you still became uncomfortable and scared. They saw you as their queen.
Paul, out of nowhere came walking up behind you with immense power in his walk, putting fear on the men holding your hand.
He wakes straight up to you, ripping their hands from yours
“la talmasuha.” ( don’t touch her ), he spat wrapping his arm around your waist. The two men ran away quickly.
“Paul…they weren’t trying to hurt me” you said softly.
“My love, whether they were or not is not the point. No one is allowed to touch you.” He said, his voice darkening at the last part.
You huffed, your face scrunching up in annoyance, before looking at him, your frown faltering slightly. 𝗗𝗮𝗺𝗻 𝗶𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘆 𝗺𝗮𝗱 𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝗺!
He pulled you into a hug, his hands going to your bump, which was now quite big. You sighed into the hug, leaning your head on his shoulder.
“How’s our son?” He asked smiling.
You laughed lightly “our son is fine, full of energy though. Woke me at all hours from kicking” you huffed.
Paul laughed at your words “just like his father” he said pulling away slightly, to place a kiss on your bump. He pulled away, giving your forehead a kiss.
“Come with me” he said, taking your hand in his leading you to the room full of Fremen. They had all been praying there since yesterday. Once Paul told everyone that the prophecy was true, they went crazy, praying immediately. He gently led to to the room slowly, knowing your body was tired.
As you two made your way through the crowds, the Fremen praised to themselves, touching you and Paul on the shoulders. It was all lovely, until one of the men on your right kneeled beside you, placing his hands on either side of your swollen belly, which was covered with an orange dress.
Paul whipped his head around as soon as he felt you stop, but when he saw that man with his hands all over you, he couldn’t control himself.
“kayf tajru ealaa lamsiha.” ( don’t you dare touch her). He yelled at the men, shoving him off of you.
“Paul!” You screeched as he shoved the man.
He said nothing as he took you in his arms again bringing you into the centre of the room with him, you two stepping up into what looked like a little stage.
Before speaking he turned around to you “ (y/n), if anyone ever touches you again you tell me” he growled, before turning with you to face everyone.
You stepped back a little, leaning against his side, not liking everyone looking at you. You buried your face in the back of his shoulder, hoping he didn’t do something too stupid.
Paul began speaking to everyone in the Fremen language, you understood some bits.
“I am paul Mua’dib atreides, Duke of Arrakis!” you heard him say in English. You stared at him, shocked at his confidence and power. But….you kind of liked it.
He turned and looked at you taking your hands in his. “hal yatamanaa 'ahadukum 'an takun zawjatuka?” He yelled at the audience
(Do any of you wish she was your wife?)
You stared as many looked away in fear and respect. He looked at you before continuing.
“an takun kadhalik abdan. 'iinaha tahmil tifli. milki” he told them, a dark anger in his tone. (She never will be. It’s my child she carries. Mine)
He continued on threatening other men, telling everyone he was the messiah and he would make Arrakis duke again. He also boldly said he’d make a claim for the emperors throne. This made you smile, these people deserved to live in their own planet without suffering.
After a few more minutes, Paul left the room bring you with him. You two spoke about plans on the way to your room.
Once there he helped you out of your dress, into a night dress. You lay on your bed, waiting for Paul to join you. Once he did, you turned and lay your head on his chest.
“Paul do you promise to stay with 𝗨𝘀 forever?” You asked, your hand on your belly. Fear in your voice.
“Of course my love. Why do you ask?” He said tucking some hair around you ear, away from your face.
You looked down “well..I don’t know I mean, you might be emperor and well..you might not want me anymore” you said your eyes filling with tears.
“(Y/N), you don’t seem to understand. I’ve seen my future, 𝗢𝘂𝗿 future. You are meant to rule along side me. Wel belong together, forever” he said kissing you softly.
“Promise?” You asked as he wipped your eyes.
“I promise sweetheart” he said leaning down and kissing you passionately. He pulled you up a bit, leaning in deeper.
“Mhm Paul” you whispered as his kisses went down your neck slowly.
“What, you want more?” He teased kissing you.
You nodded into the kiss, your hands going to his dark curls. His hands traveled all over you as he kissed you passionately.
Eventually, his hand went underneath your night dress and he slipped his finger into your panties. He teasing traced his fingers over your aching core.
“Paul!” You yelled out with a pout.
He smirked before slipping a finger inside you, kissing you as you moaned out loudly, he moved in in and out while his other hands traveled under you night dress, to your breasts.
You begged him for more, tears swelling in your big eyes. He obliged undressing as well.
He carefully slid inside you, both of you moaning out in pleasure. He pulled your night dress down slightly to have access to your perky breasts. He sucked them while pumping in and out of you.
You both rocked your hips, your bodies moving together like one, as you kissed passionately. Eventually you found yourself coming close to your climax.
“Paul I’m gon- I’m gonna cum” you whispered.
“Me too sweetheart” he said in your ear. A moment later you both came undone, him inside you.
You yelled out loudly, pleasure erupting from inside you.
“Thats right, you let them know your mine” he growled.
After you both came down from your high, he cleaned you up and gently slid your night dress onto you properly, while redressing himself.
“I love you Paul” you whispered before falling asleep on his chest.
“I love you too” he whispered back, watching you as you drifted off to sleep, his hands wrapped around your bump. Although his prophecy was long and full of adventure, 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗯𝘆 𝗳𝗮𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁.
࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎
I’ll try to do pt3 soon too!!
#paul atreides x reader#paul atreides x reader yandere#dune 2#dune part two#fanfiction#sci fi and fantasy#paul atreides#chani kynes#stilgar#timothee chalamet x reader#dune movie#paul atredies x reader#smut
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𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐆𝐨𝐝
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢. 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏.𝟏𝐤
𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
You don’t expect the soft green silk that he wraps around your wrists to tie them gently to the headboard.
The confusion is clearly evident on your face because Loki smiles softly at you and kisses the tip of your nose. “Tonight is about you,” he says by way of explanation and sits back on the bed.
A few experimental tugs tell you that he hasn’t tied them as tightly as usual. The silk is secure around your wrists, yes, but you’re certain you could wriggle free from the restraints if you really wanted to. You’re not sure what he means by tonight being all about you, but you still stay put atop the bed.
Loki does very little without reason.
Your god is still sitting next to you on the bed, gazing at you silently while the tips of his fingers stroke your bare thigh. There’s no menace or warning creeping through his touch - if anything, it feels gentle and almost painfully loving - which only makes your mind whirl with what he could possibly have in store for you.
“Repeat what you said to me five minutes ago,” he says. His voice is firm, but somehow still soft enough that you can hear that familiar undercurrent of love flowing beneath.
It’s a love that he’s yet to make you doubt.
You swallow and quickly lick your lips, feeling your heart begin to race under Loki’s intense gaze. “I…you…sometimes I don’t think I’m good enough for you,” you babble out in one breath as a blistering heat blossoms beneath your cheeks. It sounds absurd.
Loki’s face is unreadable, it’s a blank mask that makes you fear that you’ve actually angered him, but slowly, a soft smile curls across his handsome face. “I fear you may have suffered a recent blow to the head, dove,” he teases and climbs easily onto the bed.
On instinct, your thighs part for him and he settles into his place between them. His hands fall to either side of your shoulders, caging you in, though tonight, the gesture feels oddly protective.
“Are you truly questioning how utterly magnificent I find you?” he asks, capturing your lips in a chaste kiss. “Because if so, then I can only apologise for being lax on my adoration.”
“Loki, no, I only meant -,” he cuts you off with another kiss, this one so slow and deep that it makes your toes curl into the sheets.
“Shhh, let me worship you, dove,” he murmurs quietly, bumping his nose against yours. You nod your head silently in permission, and he gives you a wink. “Good girl.”
Warm lips then press to your jaw before dipping beneath to suck and nip at the sensitive skin of your neck. You suck in a breath and moan, already lost to the intoxicating feel of this man.
“Do you know how proud I am to call you mine?” he says before sucking another bruise into your throat. “You are everything I ever dreamed of, my sweet girl. I want everyone - and I mean everyone - to see my marks on you and know that the most beautiful creature in the cosmos is mine.”
“Yours,” you breathe out because it’s an absolute truth.
Loki’s head snaps up from where it’s been buried in your neck, and you see that the open love and adoration dancing in them is now mixing with possessiveness. “Good girl. Say that again for me, dove.”
You laugh quietly at the lopsided grin he’s wearing, but easily grant him his request. “I’m yours.”
“Again.”
“I’m yours.”
“Beautiful thing,” he whispers and presses another lingering kiss to your waiting lips.
His hand then curls perfectly around your side while he presses, slow, deliberate kisses along your collarbone and over your breasts. Soft strands of errant black curls tickle your skin, making you giggle and squirm beneath him, but he only looks up at you with an adoring smile.
“That laugh is my favourite melody,” he says, pressing another kiss just below your ribcage. “And you are a work of art that I will never grow tired of admiring,” he continues, taking one erect nipple into his mouth.
His tongue swirls around it skillfully while a finger and thumb pinch its twin. That familiar lavender haze begins to steadily creep over you with every flick of his tongue and twist of his fingers, and it suddenly dawns on you why he’s tied your hands.
“Tonight is all about you.”
You could weep with the love you have for this man.
When his lips and fingers leave your breasts, you audibly whine, but Loki presses the tip of his index finger against your lips, an amused smirk curled across his face.
“None of that, dove. Have I ever left you unsatisfied?” he questions with a quirked brow.
“No.”
His smirk widens. “Exactly.”
He continues his descent along your body, covering your stomach in reverential kisses until next to all of you has been worshipped by his mouth.
You, a mortal, being worshipped by a god.
You feel two cool hands on the inside of your thighs, his thumbs tracing absentminded circles against your skin while he gazes at you. It’s a gaze that’s so full of love that you can’t help but smile at him, at this god you are so lucky to call yours.
“I love you,” Loki says softly. “Say that back to me, dove.”
“You love me,” you echo, feeling your lip begin to tremble with how much truth is in those three words.
“Again.”
“You love me.”
“One more time.”
“You love me.”
“I do,” Loki assures you. “Don’t ever doubt that I love you more than anything on this earth, dove. You are the one thing that I did right.”
Before you can answer, before you can do anything, his warm mouth is on your cunt. That skilled tongue laps and licks and worships until the beginnings of your orgasm begin to crest over you.
With every flick and swirl, “you are the one thing that I did right” plays on loop in your head. This god adores you above all else, would burn down the world if you asked him to, and it’s the knowledge of a love that deep that sends you freefalling into bliss. It’s a pleasure that never seems to end, much like your cries of your lovers name.
Panting, you come down off your high to see Loki rising from between your thighs. The silk restraints are gone with a flick of his wrist and you greedily tangle your hand in his hair to claim his lips with your own.
“More. Please,” you beg, not caring how wanton you sound.
Loki kisses you again, slow and lingering, and his eyes are glittering when his lips leave yours. “My sweet girl, that was only a warm up.”
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hello! it is me again
What do you think if Alastor had a breeding fetish? (Idk if that's how it's written, English is not my native language 😿) oops! It would be nice if you brought some of that to the second part of "no one's better than I am" __if you wanted to ;)
| thanks for your time|
TYING YOU TO ME… ᡣ𐭩
— having you return to alastor, he was more than ecstatic. but, he has to make sure you don’t run off again.
— includes semi-nsfw n pregnancy… i dont condone alastors actions!!
alastor does not want kids. he isn’t against them, but he is rather busy. if he were to be asked, he wouldn’t be the best father either. he doesn’t have much of an idea of how to discipline children, nor does he enjoy playing.
oh, but with his pretty wife home, alastor has to make sure she stays, shouldn’t he? we wouldn’t want another man sweeping you off your feet. neither would he want you running off to the newspapers knowing his little secret— alastor would rather raze the town than hurt his little doe more than necessary.
oh, and, not to mention how gorgeous you’d look; a motherly glow radiating from your skin as you grow a child inside you— a child that was the mixed blood of you and alastor. how you would look so pretty rocking your child to sleep, alastor standing behind you, holding your waist and keeping steady.
alastor gazed at you in awe as you wiped the kitchen counter clean. he took your face in the palm of his hands, kissing you deeply and lovingly, as if your little rebellious incident had never happened.
“alastor? what’s wrong..?” you looked to him confused. “nothing’s amiss at all, dear. just admiring the sights.” he hummed, holding you by the waist as he pushes you onto the now-clean kitchen counters.
as his hands trail further, undoing the knot of your apron— he placed kisses down your neck. “i love you so very much, darling.” he sighed. “say you’re mine, won’t you? say that you belong to me as i do to you.” he pleaded.
your breath hitched as you hesitated. “i… i’m yours, alastor.” you let out, heart stopping a beat as shivers were sent down your spine. did you truly fall in love with him? alastor groaned, smiling widely at your saccharinely sweet words. “ahaha! oh, my dear…” he laughed ecstatically, almost predatorily.
“may i?” he asked, holding the zipper of your dress between his fingers. as you nodded timidly, he noticed your chaste behavior. “what’s wrong, dear? nervous?” he mused. “no… it’s just… i didn’t expect you of all people to… have sexual relations.” you said, slowly as you pick the right words.
“hmph, i’m not particularly fond of them.” was all that alastor said. and though, for the most part, it was true; engaging such physical acts is… repulsive to say the very least. whatever was necessary to keep you in this house. even if he had to make you bear his child in order to do so.
because… this is love, isn’t it? alastor loves you so very much, he’s willing to give you his everything. even the things he wouldn’t want to give.
he pulled you off of the counter, bringing you to the bedroom and he lays you down. taking out a condom. after all, you still have to stay safe.
fuck, how did this happen? you sat, shaken in your doctor’s office as she removed the gloves from her hands. so, it was true? you were… pregnant?
the very thought made you sick to your stomach. that last encounter 3 weeks ago… there was protection. alastor is always very attentive to important matters such as this, there’s no way that your contraceptive wouldn’t have worked unless… it was tampered with.
the thought of him doing such a thing behind your back brought you anger. simmering inside you as you waited for him to return home. “oh darling, i’m home! don’t you look absolutely magnificent?” he grinned.
“break it up, alastor!” you frowned. “oh? what ever have i done?” he asked, big eyes as looked so innocent— he wasn’t even hiding his guilt! “you… messed with the contraceptive, didn’t you?” you said, standing from your seat at the table.
“hmm… so you are with child after all?” he grinned ear to ear. “so, what if i did?” he shrugged. "it’s not as if you have another means to live, i’m the only one who will take care of you.”
“so you did..!” your face scrunched in anger, ready to rip this man to shreds. “ahaha… calm down, dear. all this stress isn’t well for our child.” he rested his hands on your shoulder and stomach, gentle, almost soothing— almost able to make you forget the ordeal he put you in.
“don’t you want this child to grow up with a father? i’ll take care of everything you could ever want for, my cute little doe. just stay here in this house, and we’ll be a happy family.” he said, sweet nothings falling out of his mouth. how foolish honestly.
did you truly think you could nurture that monster into a man?
#BURNT OUT BY LEANNA FIRESTONE MENTION#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#hasbin alastor#alastor hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel smut#alastor hc#alastor headcanons#human alastor#alastor the radio demon#yandere alastor#yandere hazbin hotel
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the heavy weight of guilt (part two)
words: 700
warnings: 18+ only, smut, cheating, p in v sex, unprotected sex
part one / part two
“what the fuck did you do?” rafe growls.
“what?” you ask, batting your eyelashes at him. “you would never leave her unless she found out, so i made it so you have to be with just me.”
“you're fucking crazy if you think im going to stay with you after you destroyed my family.” rafe grunts out.
“destroyed? you did that by cheating on your wife. don't blame me for exposing the truth.”
“the truth is that you came into me, practically forced yourself onto me.”
“yet you were completely willing. don't be ridiculous rafe. you don't even care about your dumb kids or stupid wife anyways. all you care about is fucking young pussy.”
“aren't you worried ill leave you some day then? get with someone younger as you grow old and wrinkle.” rafe tilts his head to the side, trying to anger you even more.
“oh rafe” you laugh maniacally. “i will never let you leave me. i wont lose you like your wife did.”
“goddamn it.” rafe grunts, bending down and picking you up, slinging you over your shoulder like you're just a sack of flour.
“damn, you're strong when you're pissed.” you chuckle, which just makes rafes hold on you tighten further.
“shut up, please.” he begs. he needs to get his anger and frustration out, and since you're the cause of his guilt, it's going to be by using you.
“fine, we can talk about our new living arrangements after you fuck me silly.” you know you're only antagonizing rafe further as he tosses you onto the bed, throwing you so hard you bounce against the mattress.
“i hate you.” rafe says before smashing his lips against yours, dominating your mouth as his hands begin to strip you of your clothing, pulling it away until you're naked.
“get undressed, let me see you.” you say, trying to unbutton rafes shirt, but he just pushes your hand away.
“im gonna fuck you how i want to fuck you. you're not in control anymore.”
you're surprised by his sure dominance. he's always been on top before, but he's never disobeyed you.
you keep quiet, lips practically sealing closed as rafe undoes his pants, tugging his zipper down just to pull his cock out, already hard like it always is whenever he's around you.
“god, look at you.” rafe groans when you spread your legs, pussy blossoming open for him like it always does. “such a little slut. my slut, and now im yours too. you made sure of that, huh?”
you're not sure how to respond, but rafe barely gives you any time anyways as he pushes forward, plunging his cock inside of you in one smooth motion.
despite his size, he gives you not even a moment to adjust as he begins to fuck you without a care, snapping his hips forward, focused solely on his own pleasure.
you try to keep your body relaxed as you watch rafe above you. his eyes are on you but they're glossed over, like he's in another place.
you sit up rapidly, tapping your palm against his face. “hey.” you grunt. “you're not thinking of someone else right?”
“what, like my soon to be ex wife? so what if i am? you ruined that already.”
you move quickly, pulling your body away only to grab rafe and bring him forward onto the bed. he's so surprised by your sudden show of stretch that when you flip him over onto his back he doesn't question it.
“it's only me. you're mine forever.” you sink your pussy down on rafes cock.
his moans betray him as his head tilts back, mouth wide as you ride him, moving your hips quickly and aggressively to spur him on, not caring that your pussy is already sore.
“mine.” you growl as your hands attack the buttons on his shirt until you're able to pull the two sides open and reveal his bare torso, muscled and covered with a faint dusting of hair.
“i know, shit.” rafe knew he was yours from the moment your lips met, cementing the end of his marriage and end of the good guy streak he had going for many years.
“and you're going to cum in me and actually get me pregnant.” you already stopped taking your birth control the day after you sent that video to rafes wife. “and you'll like this kid and raise it how you want and never leave them or me.”
“god, you're fucking crazy.” rafe says, hips rising up to meet yours.
“and that's why you'll be mine forever.”
#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#obx smut#outer banks smut#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x oc#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x oc#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe imagine#rafe blurb#rafe drabble#rafe one shot#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron one shot
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Sun's Kiss☀️Astrology
✧Observations✧
Sun of mine
I feel it, you rose above my street,
And now that you have come,
It will always be this way.
☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧
──☀️────☀️─────☀️────☀️────☀️───
☀️ Sun in the 7th house or Sun rulling the 7th house natives can get partners with good personality/traits. They can also be popular or known in their circle
☀️ Oh to be blessed being loved or loving someone with Pluto - Venus aspects is something to appreciate a lot. Once attached to someone their love is forever
☀️ Sun aspecting Chiron is an indicator of being anxious about yourself and you can often ask yourself questions like "Who I am" because in a way you need to discover who you are (Applies if you have Chiron or Sun in the same house aswell)
☀️ Leo or Aries Sun are often portrayed as people who have an likeable aura and personality, because Sun likes to be these zodiac signs
☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧
☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧
☀️Saturn in the 4th, 6th, 8th, or 12th house can have toxic karmic debts who also involves their families. They have this "I'm stuck here forever" energy.
☀️ Leo in the 5th, 7th or 8th house can have potential at attracting charming partners or having charming relationships, they can also have these partners who are completely obsessed with them.
────────────── ☀️ ───────────────
Sun of mine
You're shining bright when I feel bad
One without the other
It wouldn't be the same anymore
───────────── ☀️ ──────────────
☀️ Ascendant ruler in the 9th house can indicate the native might like traveling or can end up travelling around the world (Even moving in other country for school/education)
☀️ Ascendant ruler in the 2nd house can indicate that the native has an impressive physical health, they can be strong both mentally and physically, also a good personality
☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧
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☀️ Something admirable about the earth placements is that they are born with this love for life, they appreciate life and her little things that matters
☀️ Leo/Aquarius Juno have high chances to met their partners on internet or in a big circle of people, even influential people.
☀️ Lilith at 5°, 17°, 29° degrees can be indicators of popularity, you must have something that is very pleasing to people's eyes and that thing can make you popular
☀️ Lilith at 8°, 20° degrees can indicate intimidation, the native can look intimidating at the first glance
☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧
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☀️ An Cancer native falling in love with an Libra native give CINDERELLA vibes. One person is always searching for the other while one of them is dreaming about their love
☀️ Something very fascinating about Moon/Venus or Mercury in the 9th house is their love for other cultures is something to appreciate because not everyday you find someone who can love the culture more than they do (I said this and I will say it forever, 9th house placements= A mix of everything)
☀️ Mars - Uranus aspects (especially the harsh ones) are scary when they angry, this may sound odd but they have an hidden anger
☀️ Uranus chart ruler can give natives unexpected moments in life, like you end up with a lot of unexpected moments and think "Wait how this happened" but Uranus represents uniqueness so there is a reason for everything
☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧
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☀️ Uranus Beauty is something very UNDERATTED on tumblr, With Uranus representing uniquenees and innovation they are often ignored by astrologers but not today
Uranus in the 1st or 2nd house have a beautiful body and their voices can sound different than others
Uranus in the 3rd house gives unique voice and expression to the native
Uranus in 10th house can end up working in a unique place where they didn't expect at all, also they may have a pretty big image
Uranus in the 12th house can have an unique personality, you are liked by people very fast
(By the way every planet rules upon a specific part of our bodies, Uranus rules over our nervous system so yes the mars - Uranus aspects being angry totally approves 100%)
☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧☀️｡.:*✧
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☀️ Leo & Libra placements can look so beautiful with make up on (You are very beautiful naturally aswell) but the make up takes out your beauty
☀️ Aries Risings have a perfect chart (in the whole sign chart) they have every house in their matched sign
☀️ Sun at Taurus Degrees (2°, 14°, 26°) are so beautiful, they have a drop of Venus in themselves. Your hair and your eyes are important when it comes to your appearance, you are loved Venus child
────────────── ☀️───────────────
Sun of mine
You're shining bright when I feel bad
One without the other
It wouldn't be the same anymore.
────────────── ☀️───────────────
☀️ Sun at Aquarius Degrees (11°, 23°) are the type of people who get along so good with others. With their social skills and their smart brain, they are so lucky
☀️ Rising at Cancer Degrees (4°, 16°, 28°) can make the native hypersensitive or in general emotional more softly which is perfectly fine because they are a feminine energy
☀️ Taurus/Virgo Moons/suns/risings can be the most attracted to nature, is like a part of mother earth is in their soul
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──☀️────☀️─────☀️────☀️────☀️───
|☀️| When the Sun is always shining Harmoonix is here with a new post ☀️
☀️ I really hope everyone who reads my notes has a good day full of light and warm vibes, is October so make it cozy ☀️🥰
☀️ May the sun's rays touch your skin and bless your heart with light and joy, Sun's Child ☀️
- With love, Harm☀️☀️nix
#astrology#astro observations#astro fyp#astrology fyp#birth chart#astrology observations#astro notes#placements#astro community#horoscope#zodiac#sun#sun aesthetic#light#warm#cozy#october#ascendant#chart#natal chart#sundrop#sunshine#degrees#degrees in astrology
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“I could take you”
Pairing: Acotar men x Fem!Reader (separately)
Summary: Reader teases her mate, saying she could take them in a fight, or in other places.
Warnings: All fluff, suggestive
Rhysand
"I could take you," I surmise aloud. My mate, who was trying to sleep peeked one eye open.
"We just finished, I'm not one to complain but aren't you tired?" He grumbled and I giggled.
"Not sex, I could take you in a fight dummy," I punch his shoulder and his brows rise.
"Oh really?" He drags out, arm wrapping tighter around my torso, pulling me into his chest as darkness swarms the room. "Don't make me mist you," He mumbled tiredly into my neck and I rolled my eyes.
"I'm serious, I could," I urge. "I know just how I'd do it too," I trail my fingertips up his bare chest.
"You think about killing me often?" He presumes and I roll my eyes.
"I'm just saying, it'd be easy," I tease.
"Murder me in your dreams, you fiend," He huffed, stuffing his face into my breasts without thought.
"Only kidding Rhys, I'd never harm you," I reassure. "But I could," I add and he smiles against my chest at the absurdity of this mindless conversation.
Cassian
"I could take you," I cross my arms over my chest, sizing up my mate with narrowed eyes. The shirtless male looked at me with an arched brow while he drank deeply from his water. I had been watching him train for hours now, so long that it felt as if I had every one of his moves and skills memorized.
"You think so?" He challenges and I nod with a beaming grin, taking a step closer and staring up at him entirely innocent.
"I know so," I shrug. His smile only widens.
"I guarantee I could have you on your knees within seconds," He leans dauntingly close but I don't falter, keep my unwavering ground.
"Whatever you say, sweetheart," I rise onto my toes and peck his lips. He seemed entirely thrown off by the mix of my kiss and the nickname, and that fact alone made me one thousand percent sure I could throw him off his rhythm in combat too, he might've called it cheating but I saw it as a strategic advantage of sorts.
“You want to spar or would you prefer to take me in other ways?" He taunted and I'd be lying if I didn't want both, though I decided I wanted one a little more.
"What are you waiting for tough guy?" I backed up towards the mats with a prideful smirk that mirrored his.
Azriel
My mate had his head in my lap while he read some non-fiction I had no interest in, much preferring to run my hands through his curls and watch his tense features morph into those of relaxation. My thoughts wandered in the comfortable silence, it began by thinking of what he was reading about, then the fact that he was smart and strong, and then it spiraled from there.
"I think I could take you in a fight," I mumble and his eyes that had been running across his page froze, then flicked up to mine.
"What was that, my love?" He closed his book, pausing whatever page he was in the middle of in order to give me his full attention.
"I could take you," I repeat and he blinks, then, to my surprise, he nods.
"Probably," He hums, cracking his book back open and offering no explanation as to why he thinks so.
Azriel was a competitive male, even with me. So when he said such a thing I was thrown entirely off my train of thought. "Wait— you're serious?" My hands stop combing through his hair and his bottom lip juts out in the absence of the ministrations, a grown male, pouting.
"When am I not?" He hummed and I rolled my eyes. The answer to that was more often than he'd care to admit.
"Why do you think I can?" I ask.
He shrugs simply before saying, "You'd probably use your witchcraft on me.” His eyes were entirely genuine. I push his head off my lap with a faux look of anger. He came back to me with full force, arms reaching around me and pulling me into him, his head pressing in the junction between my neck and shoulder. "I'm not a witch," I huff and he only smiles against my skin.
"Maybe not, but your seductive powers work too well on me," He explains and I roll my eyes. The powers he was referring to included a lingerie set and a few keywords that had him doing laps.
"It's not hard when I've got you wrapped around my finger," I sing and he sighs contentedly, pulling me closer, seemingly happy with with that statement, like he would never try to change that fact. Even if it meant I could take him down on a sparring mat.
Eris Vanserra
Eris was baking. An odd sight to see for anyone else but for me, it was a simple Sunday morning. I drifted into the kitchen with a drunken smile on my face as I slung my arms around his torso and draped myself over him. "What's that grin for?" He glances over at me before continuing to read whatever recipe he was following.
"Just thinking," I hum with a dazed look. It was no secret that today had been the peak of my ovulation in my cycle, my need for him was all-consuming. Yet here he was, baking my favorite flavor pie. "I wanna take you," I huff into his shoulder and he chuckles.
He makes a real show of ignoring my pleas and instead answers with an amused tone, "In a fight?"
I scowl, my frown deepening as I stare up at him— but then he had me thinking about it. "Why not?" I shrug.
"You sure you can?" He tilts his head down at me demeaningly— gods, he knows this is torture.
"Fine, you're too smart for me to beat in a fight but I could take you to other places," I wrap my arms around his neck and he sloppily smiles. "You're plenty smart, my sweet," His hands come to my hips, and his touch alone relieved sacred parts of me. I shake my head in denial. "C'mon, I've got a few weak spots I’m sure you could figure it out," He reassures, his voice soft. I didn't want to think about fighting him, I never wanted to have to.
"I love you too much to fight with you," I shrug, lifting up and pecking his lips innocently, void of my earlier arousal.
"That," He whispers against my lips. "That was one of my weak spots," He murmurs and I smile.
"Can you fuck me now or is this pie still more important than your very pretty, very needy mate?" I ask impatiently and he shakes his head with a charming expression. "Very needy, indeed."
Lucien Vanserra
“I could take you, and I don’t mean in a fight,” I say, head propped up on my mate's shoulder, peering up at him from inches away while he focused on peeling a tangerine for me. He simply laughs when he notices I’m serious, lips curling into a delighted smile.
“What’s that even supposed to mean?” He mumbles and I flip over onto his lap, straddling his hips.
“I’ll let you figure that out,” I mumble with a shrug. He shakes his head, looking down at the fruit in his hand as he peels the rind.
“You’re ridiculous,” He mumbled under his breath and I grinned wildly.
“You love it,” I muse and he looks up to me, handing me the peeled orange, ready to be eaten.
“I do,” He confesses, and that look on his face makes my stomach blossom with warmth, overflowing with admiration and devotion.
I don’t know how to react, or what to do with all the love he gives me, so instead I say the first thing that comes to mind, “I could also take you in a fight, though.”
He leans closer with a teasing grin. “And why’s that sunshine?” He hums as I pop a slice of the tangerine into my mouth, the sweet taste of citrus making me smile.
“You wouldn’t be able to fight back,” I shrug and his brows crease in confusion.
“Cause I’d be too scared?” He presumes and I shake my head, swallowing my fruit.
“Because you love me,” I croon.
“Unfortunately,” He grumbles under his breath and my jaw drops in shock. “Lu!” I exclaim as I push his shoulders and he falls back into the couch.
“I’m only kidding sunshine, you know you’re all I’ve ever wanted,” He reassured with a lilt in his tone, making me roll my eyes.
“I’m seriously debating that fight right now,” I murmur and he smiles, hand coming to my cheek and pulling me into him.
“Such a drama queen,” He mumbles, pressing his mouth to mine before I can retort. I melt into him, hands coming to his cheeks with delicate touches, my thumb tracing the end of his scar. “I love you too much to fight back, too,” I admit, his smile only grows. “I know.”
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#suriels tea#acotar#fanfic#a court of thorns and roses#sarah j maas#x reader#bat boys#eris acotar#lucien vanserra#rhysand#cassian#azriel#eris vanserra#x reader acotar#acotar fluff#lucien acotar#azriel x reader#cassian x reader#eris x reader#lucien x reader#rhys x reader#x reader fluff#azriel fluff#fluff#x you fluff#eris x you#azriel x you#x you#fem reader#cassian x fem!reader
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PART 3 | AFTER FIVE YEARS
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader
Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.
Warning: Angsty
AN: Here's the next part, my loves! This one is a little break from the happy side. Please comment so I can add you to the taglist. Happy race weekend!
“I hope you don't mind if I take Cael first to bed. I bet he is tired already from all the running,”
“Not at all, take all the time you need,” Carlos said.
Take all the time I need. Yeah. I wish I heard that from you five years ago.
You let Carlos in and have him wait in the living room. You make your way upstairs to Cael's designated room to take care of him.
“Mama, Uncle Chilli really looks like Papa,” Cael said to you while you're busy scrubbing his arms.
“You think so?” He might not have met Carlos before but you never deprived him with information about his father. You let Cael know who Carlos is and let him watch his races and interviews. It's the least thing you can do for him.
“Yes, Mama. He also sounds like Papa.” Cael said while playing with his bath toys. You were amazed by how observant your son is.
After giving him a quick shower and comfy pajamas, you tuck him in bed. Luckily, it didn't take too long for him to fall asleep.
“You had fun playing with Papa, hmm? I'll introduce him to you soon baby, not as Uncle Chilli. Please bear with Mama, okay?,” You whisper to your sleeping son while caressing his cheeks with the back of your index finger. You planted a kiss on his forehead before leaving his room.
You squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath before stepping a foot on the stairs. The time finally came, you will now tell him about Cael and answer whatever he might ask. You saw Carlos seriously sitting at the couch. His aura is now different from a while ago. You slowly approach him but you remain standing in front of him to keep your distance.
“Hey,” You said to catch his attention.
“Is he asleep?” Carlos asked and did not even look at you. You simply nod and say yes to him. Both of you remain silent for a few seconds before he finally asks a question.
“Cael. Is he mine?”
“Yes, he is. I brought him here to meet you. But not this way obviously,”
“But- but why now? He is already four years old, Y/N! All these years why didn't you tell me about him!” You were taken aback when Carlos raised his voice.
“You stole four fucking years of my life not knowing I have a son. What kind of mother are you? How could you do this to me?” and there it is, Carlos dropped the bomb straight at you.
This conversation escalated so quickly that you didn't expect that Carlos would burst out in an outrage towards you. Your heart sank and you felt that all your blood rush into your head. You know that he could get mad about what you did. But you didn't expect that his anger would come with sharp critical comments about you.
And before you can even think about it, you find yourself matching his flames, releasing your inner madness and equally raising your voice towards him.
“I know that you would be mad at me, you have every right to be. But asking me how could I do this to you! Oh God, Carlos, you tell me! How could I do this to you!” and your tears started falling. You slightly moved towards Carlos and pointed a finger at him.
“I am not the one who cheated! I am not the one who was caught kissing another woman in his driver's room! I am not the one who filed the divorcement papers! And I'm not the one who left our home! Tell me Carlos, how could I do this to you! I literally found out I was pregnant with Cael the day you brought those papers and packed your bags. You have given up on us before I could even tell you!”
"How would I know that you want us in your life when you literally screwing another woman when we're still together! And don't even ask me about what kind of mother I am! Because you don't know what I’ve been through. You don't know how difficult it is to swallow my pride and set aside my resentment for my son to meet you, his father! The man who made me believe that he loves me! The man who cheated on me and left me broken. You don't know, Carlos! You don't know what I had to do! You don’t.” Your confession left Carlos unspoken. This is the first time you actually open up about what happened a few years ago.
His face has softened by what you said. You’re right, he doesn't know and he chose the wrong button to press when he questioned you. After hearing your side, he realizes that he is at fault for everything. But to be honest, asking why you didn't tell him wasn't the thing that upset you. You expect him to be asking that. But it's his tone and other questions that caught you off guard and made you ballistic.
“I'm sorry, Y/N. I-”
“You should go home, Carlos. I- I don't think I can do this right now,”
“But-”
“Please, Carlos. I beg of you,” you cut him off firmly before he can even finish his sentence. Carlos had no choice but made his way to the door and drove home.
You're on your bed staring at the ceiling. You can't fall asleep after having an intense conversation with your ex-husband. You know that you will have to explain things to him. But you didn't expect that it would turn that awful. The whole argument made it more difficult for you to introduce him to Cael.
So what now?
AN: How was the story so far guys? I hope you nailed spilling YN's line. Love y'all!
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@seasonswinter @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @celesteablack @openthenyoor01 @carlossainzbelongswithme @timmychalametsstuff @viennakarma @charlottef1 @i-love-ptv @evie-119 @somepeoplemaybe @amberpanda99 @gotthatname @karlossainz @wonderfulkawaii @khaylin27 @hc-dutch @avengers-assemble123456 @likedbygaslyy @xoscar03 @yukiotadako @barcelonaloverf1life @bearryyy @mahii7 @mxdi0 @heyheyheyggg @sunny44 @casperlikej @ironmaiden1313 @biitch-with-wifi @elia-the-bibliophile @nataliazzzz @bernelflo @madkohi @lillunna @loloekie @jinimon-tr
next part
#carlos sainz#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz x y/n#carlos sainz x reader#f1 x you#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula one x you#afterfiveyears#cs55#carlos sainz junior#carlos sainz jr
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Viking soap! Viking soap! Viking soap!
Grrrrrrrr Yes ok yes because I am feral for this idea and you're partially engaging a special interest of mine.
You spot him at the same moment he does you. A flash of blue eyes reflecting the shallow river, long hair shorn short on the sides, the fur the edges his clothes marks him as easily as the paint on his face. A viking. He stands as quickly as you step back, his eyes fixed on you. If he's here there must be more at your village. You know well enough that these men don't travel as solitary creatures.
You turn and run towards your home. You hear the crash of him through the forest behind you giving chase. Even knowing the land as well as you do the terrain is uneven, the roots are made to catch your feet, and the branches are low to obscure your vision. You don't have the deer's advantage of darting movement to keep you out of reach. Each step you can hear him getting closer, until you feel his hands grab you.
The man, the viking, catches you around your middle. You kick and scream and make every effort to batter him with your fists, to make yourself difficult prey. You've heard enough stories about what these men do to know you want no part of it. He lifts you, hauls you up off the ground as you fight and twist.
"Would you be still, I'm not going to hurt you," The man tells you in gaelic. You freeze at the familiar tongue.
"You're a liar," You push at him, claw at his grip, "why would you chase me if you weren't hunting me?"
"Why would you run?" He asks, grabbing your wrists to pin them against his chest. You glare at him, your chest heaving as you gather your breath back. He's handsome, for a viking. There's something sort of rakish about the stubble on his face and the set of his brow. "Did I do something to scare you, bonnie?" It's not an honest question, he knows full well why you'd run.
You keep quiet, keep your glare level with him. An easy task with him holding you up, his arm hooked around your thighs. His head tips back to look at you with a smile. "Aren't you pretty," He whispers, hardly phased by the run or your anger. When you don't respond he seems to find his head again, his smile dropping to something more serious.
"Fine, courting later, business now." He sets you back down, keeping a tight grip on your wrists now that you've proven yourself a runner. "I'm here to negotiate a trade, I need an escort," He explains, though you would think a man needing an escort would have a shorter handle on the ax at his hip.
"A bad liar," You amend your previous statement, tugging at his hold.
"Fine," He relents, "I want an escort. Escort me." He insists, tugging you against his chest again. You're really getting tired of bumping into him.
"Why? So you can lead a raiding party back as soon as I turn around?" You spit.
“To what end?” The viking asks, tips his head to the side, his eyes hard on you, “What use do we have for dead healers?”
You stop your struggling, stunned. He’s not wrong, but he speaks to an understanding of your village you hadn’t expected. How much did this man and his company know about you? How many scouts had walked your paths, watched your neighbors work? He’s right, dead healers are useless, but so are port healers. Vikings are only as strong as their weakest man, wouldn’t they prefer to keep healers on hand?
“You said-” You swallow, “You said you were here to negotiate a trade. What- A trade for what?” He looks away from you, and you have your answer. You were right to run, he’s here for one of you.
“Let’s go,” He doesn’t pull you, but you follow him anyway. Your mind races, thinking through the people your elders would offer up. Who was the most skilled, the most expendable, weighing what you might get in return. What couldn’t these vikings offer you? Safety, rare goods, money, animals, friendship. Invaluable intangible things that would aid all of you, for whatever price they set. It’s still only the illusion of a choice.
Your wrist is still held tight in his grip as you walk beside him. An escort, what a joke. You’re not going to put in a good word for him or do anything more than act as a pass for him to walk your streets. You’re busy working on your escape plan when you smell it.
Smoke, just as you step clear of the forest.
"Gods," the man breathes, both of you standing on top of the hill at the edge of the forest, watching your home burn. Your eyes grow wide watching the fleeing shadows of raiders, the sacrifices of you kin. What are they doing? Why would they- A mass of fire belches from the center of your village, the man covers your eyes, shields you from the heat of it with his cloak. The tattered tartan catches your attention, makes your heart pound in your chest. You recognize it, Mactavish. He was one of you.
"We have to go," He tells you. You try to pull yourself free, scream for your family down the hill. He catches you around the middle again, hauls you back into the safety of the forest.
"Tell them to stop," you beg. Your sobbing pleas fall on deaf ears.
“Those aren’t my men,” He doesn’t set you down, transfers your squirming to his shoulder with a grunt and keeps his pace. You can still see the lick of flame and smoke through the trees. The only home you’ve ever known, gone in an instant and all you can do is watch. The forest grows thicker around you as you lay against the familiar unfamiliar tartan and let yourself be carried off like a spoil.
#I'm gonna close the ask box if y'all keep giving me aus#Just so you know this would be a slow burn like Knight Ghost#but I have a few scenes in mind#john mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish#soap modern warfare#soap cod#soap mw2#soap x you#soap x reader#john mactavish#john mactavish x you#cod x reader#x reader#this fic brought to you by De Selby parts 1 and 2#viking!soap#I should rename my medieval to just historic
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"I need you to be completely honest with me right now."
"What's wrong, Rin?" Another page turns, your eyes remain glued to the novel, head resting on his thighs as his fingers occasionally poke your cheek.
"Am I ugly?"
The question makes you choke on your spit; Itoshi Rin, the very man who had you infatuated at first glance with his prominent eye lashes and his wintry gaze, just asked if he was hideous.
"Who the hell said that?" The surprise makes you sit up, and Rin barely dodges collision with your head. It's common knowledge that he couldn't care less about his appearance, skin and hair care were simply for hygiene, which was all that mattered to him. There's anger heating up at the thought of someone breaking his indifference, and it reveals itself through your speech
"No one, Yukimiya's photographer came for a photo shoot. Everything went well until I noticed the lines on my face."
"Lines?"
He nods "They weren't there before." His fingers ghost over an area near his cheeks. "Apparently they're not supposed to be there." Rin reaches into his pocket, unlocking it and showing you a photo.
It's a photo of him, Hiori and Yukimiya, the three of them grinning whilst being covered in designer brands. Nothing seemed wrong, it's an adorable photo; revealing Rin's typically concealed dimples, eyes squinting with joy, the kind of smile he uses when he's genuinely happy, instead of the polite and subtle one he gives to interviewers.
"I don't see an issue."
"Here." He zooms into his face. "Those things." His lithe fingers point towards the area between the sides of his nose and the corners of his mouth. Smile lines.
"Fans said they shouldn't be there. So, am I ugly now?"
There's a legitimate confusion laced with his tone, and you silently thank how he decided to talk about it with you before believing in whatever comments were left on Instagram.
"First, whatever fans say have no credibility, they're just people on the internet. Second." You climb into his lap again, cupping his cheeks and once again getting lost in the depths of his beryl irises. "Those are called smile lines. You're not ugly for having them, and never will be." His aquamarine eyes gaze back, as you brush a strand of hair out of his face.
"Even if they weren't there before?"
"Of course. They're a sign you're living a life filled with joy and happiness. And that is more beautiful than any beauty standard out there, and so are you." Your thumbs trace the creases, the entirety of your palms can feel the warmth of his cheeks, savouring how the softness contrasts the callousness of your hands. "You're beautiful, you always have been and always will be. Don't listen to anyone who says otherwise."
Your lips plant a kiss on his forehead, and you soon return to admiring every crevice of his face. From the viridescent azure irises and the eyelashes which adorn them, how surprisingly soft and squishy his cheeks are (of course only you'll ever know that).
"Thank you for putting them there then."
"Hm?"
"I never had reasons to smile. Not until I met you."
Anyone can tell Itoshi Rin seldom expresses emotion, let alone joy; but you had always assumed he kept it to himself rather than believe nothing was worth his jubilation.
His hands reach for yours, fingers ghosting over them. "Thank you for brightening my life, for being the reason why I'm able to live so happily." Gently, his hand pries one of yours off his face, placing a kiss on it. "I love you."
Rin smiles; it's soft, exposing his dimples and smile lines, cheeks matching his lips in colour. You're pretty sure you're just as flushed.
A quick peck to his lips (he still tastes like the persimmon haichuu you were eating together earlier) and you swear he somehow grows redder. "Does this mean I'm allowed to have the last ice cream?"
"You're supposed to say it back dumbass. And fuck no, that's mine." Despite his callous language he picks you up into a cradle carry, placing you down besides him, soon making his way to the front door. "What flavours do you want? And what kind and which brand?"
"Awww, I love you too, I want the vanilla and melon soft serve by the way."
Rin scoffs. "Of course you only say it back when I'm doing you a favour." But he's pocketing his wallet, and about to unlock the door to leave. "You're annoying."
"Yet you still love me."
"Are you sure? Because I'm buying every flavour of yukimidaifuku and you're not getting any. Milky candy too." You don't miss the smirk on his face at the sight of your disbelief.
"I hate you."
"Love you too darlin'."
[In the end "you're not getting any" was a lie]
Tagging: @yuzurins
#this was rushed yet it rotted in my drafts for a bit lmfao#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk#bllk x reader#fluff#itoshi rin x you#itoshi rin#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi rin x y/n#bllk fluff#blue lock x you#blue lock fluff#blue lock manga#fanfic#fan fiction#fan fic writing#rin fluff#itoshi rin fluff
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I could treat you better - Bellamy Blake
Time stamp: 1:38
My boyfriend was lovely–his friend wasn’t. Bellamy Blake was the rudest man I’ve ever come across; I only tolerated him for my boyfriend.
Murphy kissed me before he got pulled away for work, he was doing guard watch. I sighed, why couldn’t Bellamy do this? He always had Murphy doing everything for him, and I’m sick of it. Whenever Muphy comes back to our tent he’s exhausted or too tired to even spend time with me. I left my tent and walked inside Bellamy’s, he was shirtless and a girl was lying on his bed. I immediately left with a disgusted look on my face.
Soon he came out searching for me, “What do you want, princess?”
I palmed my face while we strolled together through Arkadia, “I’d prefer if you wouldn’t call me that, Blake. Especially since some people say that when they’re together.”
He tilted his head, his eyes gazing into mine, he glanced down with a bit of a smile, “Right, whatever you say, princess.”
The need to correct and argue with him was there but I ignored it for the sake of Murphy. “okay–can you please stop keeping my boyfriend working late? I’m aware of how things are, like it or not I’m one of the smart ones and I think he’s being overworked and–”
Bellamy’s face showed confusion in itself, “Murphy gets off at the same time as everyone else. I work the late nights, I’m who stays up all night, every night.”
I stopped moving, trying to process my indecision and incoming sense of betrayal. “Wait, you haven’t been keeping Murphy late or hanging out with him late?”
He shook his head and crossed his arms, his muscles clenching to his tight shirt. His veins popping out. My eyes tore away, my emotions were my only focus. “No, I don’t think anyone has. We’ve been on a lockdown since Clarke went missing.”
My brain racked everything Murphy’s ever told me since he began ‘working’ late. I thought of the girl I assumed he had a relationship with but when I questioned him, he brushed me off. Out of anger, I took off leaving Bellamy, who ended up following behind me calling for my name. I moved the tent side and immediately saw Murphy and the girl kissing. They stopped once they noticed me and how distraught I looked.
I backed up and accidentally bumped into Bellamy’s chest, I didn’t cry. I felt like I should cry, my body begged to cry, but when you did here–it made you seem weak. And I’d never want Murphy to see me cry even though my heart did in return. I turned and tried to shield myself with Bellamy’s chest, but hesitantly he put his arms around me. Trying to comfort me but I knew we both detested each other. He never liked me with Murphy for a reason I am unaware of, and I just never liked him. He brushed his hand up and down my back, almost in circular motions.
Murphy’s voice appeared from behind me but I didn’t dare to look back because I felt so vulnerable, I knew I would cry. “I need to talk with her, I can explain!”
Bellamy stepped in, holding me closer. His voice was demanding, his tone was deep, “Murphy, you should go. Now. If she wants to talk to you, she’ll do it later.”
I could hear Murphy protesting before easily giving up, he didn’t care to try. I pushed away from Bellamy who almost looked shocked at how quickly I switched up.
We had to go on a mission, and I found myself in a difficult position. A hand covered my mouth and once I realized I didn’t know the person whose hand it was I began to get a bit scared. I tried to fight them off but couldn’t–it had to be a grounder.
The grounder pulled a sword on me and dug into my back, but not enough to hurt me but it pierced the skin. He pushed me onto my knees where my friends were–including Bellamy. The whole hunting group was in. Murphy seemed nervous. I guess I should be too, especially since it’s my life on the line.
“Who’s valuable to her?”
What an odd fucking question–is this supposed to be leverage? Might as well let me die.
Bellamy not even a second later stepped forward, “She’s with me, that’s my girlfriend.” He spoke so truthfully that even everyone we knew was aware he was lying through his teeth.
“What are you willing to give me in turn for her life?”
His eyes almost turned vulnerable, his words coming off as pathetic as his tone came off as pleads. “What do you want?”
The grounder moved the sword which caused me to wince, “I want Wanheda.” Everyone shared a confused glance, who is that? “Give her to me and I won’t kill her.”
“Take me instead, she has a better chance of getting through to Wanheda than me.” What is he doing? He’s going to get himself killed–I’m aware he can handle himself but this is almost suicidal. The grounder pushed me into Bellamy’s arms. He squeezed my hand for the quickest second and moved to the grounder who hit him immediately.
I wanted to help him but I didn’t know how to, Bellamy could’ve attacked but stayed down, taking another punch with ease. I stepped forward but he put his hand up, “Don’t,” he demanded while blood ran down his cheek.
Why was he willing to do this for me? We’ll never find her, I mouthed. He did a tiny nod. They need you, I mouthed once more. He got kicked in his ribs and I knew I lost his attention but while the grounder was distracted I quickly stole Murphy’s gun and shot the grounder. My aim was good, but I hated shooting, killing wasn’t something I wanted to do. But I had to–for him.
Without processing what I did I went to Bellamy’s side. I hated his stupidity and I hated how he saved my life. “I hate you,” I said as I helped him up. He spit out blood, “I know,” he said while wincing from getting up too quickly.
While Bellamy was getting medical from Abby, I was talking with Octavia and Jasper. Murphy approached grabbing my arm, “Were you and Bellamy seeing each other behind my back?”
His breath reeks of Monty’s moonshine, “Are you serious? You’ve been cheating on me, Murphy?”
“Were you yes or no?”
Before I could say anything Bellamy put his arm around my waist. His hands slipped around my stomach. Holding me tight but just to keep himself steady from behind. “Yes,” he said in a raspy voice, still clearly in pain. I couldn’t turn my head, I’d be too close to his face. He groaned a bit in pain but still managed to keep his posture strong and himself looking composed. Bellamy pulled me in closer to him and that got a bit of a reaction from Murphy.
“Fuck you both,” he said as he stormed off. Everyone else decided to leave us alone, I was going to Bellamy back to medic. There was a zero percent chance he was let out yet.
He stopped me from walking, his tight and bloody shirt doing him every bit of justice. His hands took control so easily, “Why’d you do it,” I asked.
His fingers traced along my neck, “Save you? Or help you?”
“Both,” I spoke breathlessly. His eyes were fixated on my lips and I wondered if Abby gave him painkillers or something for this type of behavior.
Bellamy stared down at me, tension felt like it was rising, and the heat was radiating off our bodies. He kept one hand on my waist, holding me. His right hand pulled my hair to the side he leaned in, “because we both know I could treat you better,” he whispered into my ear.
#bellamy blake#oneshot#octavia blake#the 100#bellamy blake x reader#bellamy blake imagine#enemies to lovers#fake dating#abby griffin#john murphy#jasper jordan#monty green#bob morley#Spotify
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