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joelsgreys · 8 months

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a safe haven l nine

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter

summary: When you find out that you’re pregnant, everything comes crumbling down around you.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A SCENE THAT HEAVILY IMPLIES DOMESTIC VIOLENCE. this chapter it also contains a very uncomfortable scene with reader and Luke, but despite the sexual nature of the scene, READER DOES NOT GET SA, BUT SHE DOES GET INJURED. INJURY there is a description of an injury as the result of DV HEAVILY IMPLYING STRANGULATION. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. pregnancy, mentions of high risk pregnancy (not reader), mentions of child loss (not reader), mentions of pregnancy related symptoms (missed menstrual cycle, morning sickness), protective Tommy Miller, protective Joel, and last but certainly not least, feral Joel. this chapter is a lot, just proceed with caution if anything in bold can be a potential trigger for you.

word count: 11.8k

October, 2024

It’s the middle of October.

By now, the pain had become almost unbearable. Time certainly wasn’t healing the wound.

If anything, time only seemed to be making it worse.

So, so much fucking worse.

It drags, and you almost feel as if you’re paralyzed by it. But the only thing that you can do about it, about any of this, is just pretend.

Pretend everything is okay.

Pretend it doesn’t hurt.

Pretend you don’t feel empty.

Pretend you don’t need him.

But you do need him. Oh, how you fucking need him.

The hole in your heart is growing bigger by the day, and only Joel Miller is capable of filling the void. Only he has the ability to make you feel whole again. Complete.

“Be honest with me—what does this look like?”

You pause your knitting and glance over at Maria.

With her due date approaching, you had offered to help her prepare for the baby’s arrival. At about six months, Maria was expected to give birth towards the middle of winter season, and instead of trading or having to use rations for certain baby items, like blankets, little socks and mittens, you’d decided to show her how to make them instead. Not only was it saving her from having to trade or use her rations on things that could easily be knitted, but it served as a decent, albeit temporary, distraction, giving your mind the chance to focus on something else other than how deeply you were hurting without Joel.

Tilting your head slightly, you eye the soft, butter yellow wool she’s holding in her hands. “Um, is that the start of another baby blanket?”

“No.” Maria’s face falls. “It’s supposed to be a hat.”

“Oh. Um.” You lean forward in the brown leather armchair you’re perched on, squinting hard at it as she holds it up. “Okay, yeah, I can kind of see the shape of it now. I can totally see it being a little hat for the baby.” She tosses you a knowing smile and you squirm slightly, heat prickling at your ears.

“I appreciate you lying to me.” She giggles and sets down her knitting needles beside her on the couch along with the ball of wool yarn. Leaning back, she places both hands on her belly and sighs. “At the very least this child will never go without a blanket seeing as blankets are all I’m capable of making.”

You flash her a small, but reassuring smile.

“You’ll get the hang of it, Maria, I promise. It just takes some practice, that’s all.”

“Well, now that Luke has put me on strict bed rest until I have the baby, I’m going to have all the time in the world to practice,” Maria remarks, exhaling another sigh. Craning her neck, she peers at your own knitting project, which you’ve been working on in something of a secretive manner in your lap and out of the expectant mother’s view. “What are you making over there, anyway?”

Her timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

“I’m so glad you asked since I’m just about done.”

Crossing the last stitch, you set aside your knitting needles and then hold up the finished product. “What do you think of these?”

Maria’s hand flies to her mouth, tears welling up in her dark eyes the moment she sees the pair of little brown baby booties in your hands. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes, a tear rolling down the side of her face as you stand up and walk across her living room to present her with the shoes. Sitting down beside her, you hold them out in the palms of your hands. With trembling fingers, she accepts them. “Kevin had a pair just like these when he was a newborn. I kept them even after he’d outgrown them.” She lets out a small laugh in spite of herself. “You know, I’d always complain that he was growing up too fast. I used to wish that I could slow time down a little so I could enjoy my son being that young longer,” she admits, sniffing. She reaches up, dabbing at her damp eyes with one of her hands. “And now Kevin is frozen in time, forever a three year old little boy.”

She sets the booties down on her belly and inhales deeply, willing herself to keep her composure.

Swallowing back your own emotions, you brush a single, stray tear from her cheek with your thumb. It wasn’t the first time that she’d opened up about losing her child—but Maria often kept her emotions hidden, tucked away along with her son’s memory. For the last several years, she’d dedicated most of her time and energy to Jackson and to its people, pouring herself completely into her role as the community’s leader. But now that Luke had placed her on strict bed rest for the rest of her pregnancy, Maria had no choice but to step down, temporarily handing the role over to Tommy, along with a small council she’d handpicked herself.

It hadn’t been easy for her, after all, there was only so much she could do to keep herself preoccupied while being confined to the four walls of her home. She found her mind wandering to Kevin a lot more often than not lately, and the pregnancy hormones did absolutely nothing to help in the matter.

“Maria?” you say her name softly. “You okay?”

She slowly exhales the breath she’d been holding.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she finally replies, sniffing again.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She pauses momentarily. “I just—there’s a part of me that still has trouble believing I’m going to be a mother again. It’s been so long, you know? What if I’ve forgotten how to be a good mom?”

Dropping your hand from Maria’s face, you offer it out for her to hold. She accepts it and you give her hand a gentle squeeze as you vouch, “This baby, they couldn’t be any luckier than to have a mother like you, Maria.”

“And a fuckin’ hell of a dad like me,” a voice teases from the doorway.

Tommy, who had been down at the commune’s market picking up some potatoes for dinner, saunters into the living room with a brown paper bag in his arm. Setting the bag down onto a nearby table, he then makes his way over to his wife. Noticing that she’d been crying, he leans over and presses his lips against her forehead, softly murmuring, “You doin’ alright, sweetheart?”

“I’m alright,” she assures him with a nod. “I’m just extra sensitive and hormonal right now. The usual.”

He hums. “Uh, yeah, I kinda figured that out when you bawled your way through Old Yeller at the movies the other night.”

She pouts. “Pregnant or not, that movie’s a tear jerker, okay? Only people made of stone don’t cry when the dog dies.”

“She’s got a point, Tommy,” you agree with a shrug. “I cried too, and I’m not pregnant.”

Drawing himself back up to his full height, Tommy glances at the booties resting on Maria’s belly. He picks them up and holds them both in the palm of his hand.

“Well, ain’t these just the teeniest things I ever did see,” he remarks with a soft chuckle. “Who made these?”

Maria jerks her chin towards you. “She did.”

Tommy’s eyes meet yours and it feels like a punch to the fucking gut—they remind you of his brother. “Almost feels like a crime, havin’ you make clothes for our kid for free,” he states, shaking his head as he hands them back to Maria. “You’re makin’ the baby’s entire wardrobe at this point, little lady.”

Sheepishly, you wave a dismissive hand at him. “I made one sweater and a couple pairs of mittens for them. I wouldn’t exactly call that a wardrobe, Tommy.”

“It’s a hell of a lot more stuff than we had before. I gotta be honest, it just don’t feel right acceptin’ all these things from you without payin’ somehow. I’d really like to at least trade you somethin’ for them.”

Shaking your head, you politely decline the offer.

“I appreciate it, but I really don’t need anything.”

“What ‘bout Luke?”

“He doesn’t either.”

“But—”

“Honey, don’t waste your breath,” Maria chimes in with a sigh. “I’ve been trying to get her to accept a trade all week long and she simply won’t budge.”

Tommy purses his lips together, slowly rubbing his chin in thought. “Okay, I’ve got an idea,” he proposes after a minute. “How ‘bout you and Luke both come on over and join us for dinner later tonight? That ain’t too bad of a deal, right?”

You silently mull over the offer for a second.

“If I accept the invitation, then will you two knock it off with all this damn trade nonsense?” When he eagerly nods, you sigh. “Alright then, I accept. We’ll come over for dinner tonight. Granted he doesn’t come home late from the clinic again.”

“Perfect,” he grins. “See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

Knowing he only means well, you decide to be a good sport about it and smile at him. “No, Tommy. I suppose it wasn’t.”

“Great!” Maria beams. “We haven’t had a chance to get together for dinner in months. Lately when I see Luke, it’s as his patient,” she muses. “I have to admit, it’ll be so nice to have a conversation with him that doesn’t revolve around my uterus for once.”

Tommy jokingly makes a face. “Yeah. Tell the doc to leave all that medical stuff at the door before he comes over. Last thing I wanna hear ‘bout while I’m chowin’ down on some big, juicy bison steaks is what fuckin’ size my wife’s uterus is—”

“Tommy! That’s not funny!” Rolling her eyes at her husband, Maria turns to you to apologize but she stops short when she notices a sudden, not to mention drastic, change in your complexion. Frowning, she reaches up and touches your cheek. “Hey, you don’t look so good. Are you feeling alright?”

You can taste the bile at the back of your throat.

“I—I’m sorry, what did you just say was for dinner?”

Tommy shoots you a strange look. “Uh, steaks?”

The mere mention of the word sends a violent wave of sickness crashing over you—slapping your hand tightly over your mouth, you scramble to jump off the couch and make a beeline for their downstairs bathroom right across the hallway. You’d made it just in time to fall to your knees in front of the toilet. Clutching the sides of the porcelain bowl, you gag loudly, and the sickening sound of your retching bounces off the walls.

As your stomach heaves, you feel one hand gather your hair to hold it back and out of your face, while the other rubs soothing circles into your back.

“Let it all out,” Maria encourages you. “It’s alright, just let it all out. There you go, get everything out.”

Tommy pokes his head into the bathroom.

“She okay?”

“Tommy! Get out of here!” Maria scolds him over her shoulder. “She doesn’t need an audience!”

He holds up his hands. “Alright, alright! Sheesh, I was just makin’ sure she’s okay, you ain’t gotta bite my head off!” He huffs at her. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you two need me.” Without another word, he spins around on the heel of his boot and disappears.

Once you’re certain there’s nothing left, your trembling hand reaches for the handle on the tank and pulls it down, flushing the toilet. You then sit back, slumping against the wall. “Jesus. I am so fucking sorry. I have no idea what the hell came over me,” you groan, the embarrassment evident in your tone as you wipe at your mouth with the sleeve of your flannel shirt.

Maria peers at you with a suspicious glint in her eyes.

“You know,” she says, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, “About five months ago, I went through a phase where I couldn’t stand the thought of meat—any kind, but red meat had to be the worst. I just could not stomach it.” Her hand falls away from your face and she rises to her feet with a labored grunt. Leaning back against the sink, she continues to say, “Poor Tommy, he couldn’t even mention it to me or I’d throw up on his boots. Not long after that, I found out I was pregnant.”

You stare at her, your lips parting slightly. “Maria, you can’t seriously be insinuating—I am not pregnant. No, it’s not possible, you know that I can’t have kids,” you sputter out, furiously shaking your head. “There’s just no fucking way that I’m—”

Maria holds up her hands to stop you. “When was the date of your last menstrual cycle?”

“It was recent.”

“How recent?”

Silently, you start counting the weeks and you freeze the moment you realize you’d missed September completely, and October’s cycle had been due two weeks ago. You’ve been so lost in your own grief, so busy trying to keep yourself from falling apart, that you hadn’t even realized you haven’t bled since—

“August,” you breathe out in a terrified whisper.

The last time you had your period was in August.

August.

Before you had slept with Joel Miller for the first time.

Maria whirls around and starts digging in the medicine cabinet above the sink, and then in the one below it. After a minute of rummaging, she turns back around and extends a hand out to you, offering to help you to your feet. She lets out another grunt as she helps you stand. “I had one left,” she states, holding out her other hand to you, an individually wrapped pregnancy test in her palm. “At this point, I don’t think you even need to take a test, but it doesn’t hurt to have solid proof.”

You can hardly choke out her name. “Maria—”

She hastily shoves the test into your hands. “Just take it. I’ll be back in to check on you, okay?”

Not giving you the chance to protest, she steps out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

You look down at the test in your palm and then up into the mirror, meeting your own wide eyes in the reflection.

It can’t be possible. It just can’t be possible.

You can’t have children.

With shaking hands, you unzip your blue jeans and then tear open the package. Your mind is in such a haze, you have to read the instructions three or four times before the information finally sticks. After taking the test, you lay it down top of the counter with the results window facing down. You pull your panties and jeans back into place and wash your hands using the bar of soap next to the sink—all the while, the sheer panic has started to settle in, the fear that accompanies it seeping deep into your bones.

Swallowing harshly, you realize it’d been well over the three minutes the package had instructed you to wait for the results.

“It’s negative. It’s negative,” you affirm quietly over and over underneath your breath as you pick it up and flip it in your hand. “It’s negative. It’s negative—”

You stop, and for a second, your heart feels like it stops too.

Horrified, you blink furiously, as if somehow you’ve misread the results—but there is no fucking mistaking those two solid little pink lines.

Your blood runs cold in your veins.

You’re pregnant.

Luke hasn’t touched you in months.

And you’re pregnant.

Luke hasn’t touched you in months.

And you are fucking pregnant.

Maria knocks lightly on the bathroom door.

“It’s been a few minutes now—can I come in?”

She waits, only to be met with complete silence.

“Hey, hon.” She knocks again. “Is everything okay?”

Again, there’s no response from the other side of the door.

“Christ, Maria.” Tommy suddenly appears beside her with a glass of water in his hand. Flashing his wife a teasing look, he quips, “Can’t you let the poor girl do her goddamn business in peace? What’s wrong with you, woman?”

Maria frowns. “I think something’s wrong.”

His playful grin falters. “What do you mean?”

“She’s not answering me.”

Tommy chortles, quirking an eyebrow at her. “Maybe ‘cause she’s actually in there doin’ her business?”

Hesitantly, Maria bites down on her bottom lip.

“What? What is it?”

“I gave her a pregnancy test to take.”

Tommy’s eyes widen. “You fuckin’ with me?”

Maria glares at him. “No! I’m not fucking with you, I’m being serious! I gave her the test and then told her I would check back in with her after she took it, but now she’s not answering me and I’m kind of worried.”

“The door locked?”

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think it is. Should we just open the door and see if she’s okay? I don’t want to barge in there but—”

Tommy hands Maria the glass of water. “Hey,” he calls lightly as he raps on the door with his fist. “Everythin’ alright in there?” He waits for a minute, but when you don’t reply, he grasps the brass doorknob in his hand and says sternly, “Now you listen here, little lady. You had best answer me right now, or we’re gonna have to come in, you understand me?”

Silence.

“Last chance, talk or I’m gonna open this door.”

Nothing.

“Alright then, suit yourself. Hope you’re decent.”

Tommy turns the knob, cracking the door open—when he doesn’t see you, he tries pushing it open further. The door stops halfway, and he peers around it only to find you sitting on the floor with your back against the wall, preventing the door from going any further. “Shit, she’s sittin’ right behind the goddamn—fuckin’ hold on, Maria! If I try shovin’ it open, I could hurt her!” Being careful so as not to hit you or step on you by accident, he squeezes his way into the bathroom. He crouches down beside you, cupping your cheek in the palm of his hand. “Hey, what is it? What’s the matter?”

Your eyes flicker up to meet his.

You can’t speak. You can’t move.

All that you can do is stare at him. Petrified.

“C’mon, little lady,” he coaxes, softly. “Talk to me.”

“Tommy! Let me in!” Maria demands, impatiently. “Can you move her? I can’t squeeze through, my belly is way too big.”

Tommy slides one arm around your shoulders and the other arm under your knees. “I’m just gonna move you out the way so Maria can come in, alright? C’mere.” He gingerly slides you across the tile and cradles the side of your body against his chest. He then calls out to his wife, “There, that should be enough room!”

Maria pushes the door open and rushes inside. “Is she okay?” Gripping Tommy’s shoulder, she slowly lowers herself to kneel beside you. Her eyes go straight to the test clutched in your hand. She just about has to pry your ice cold fingers off the white stick one by one. “It’s positive,” she gasps. “Your results are positive—you’re going to have a baby!”

Tommy lets out a loud, gleeful laugh. “Did’ya hear that, little lady? You’re gonna have a baby! You’re gonna be a mama! Ain’t that great news?”

Finally, you snap out of your trance. Your eyes anxiously bounce between Tommy and Maria, heart pounding as they eagerly wait for your reaction with smiles of pure excitement on their faces.

“I—” Unable to utter another word, you burst into tears.

And they’re certainly not tears of happiness.

No, the sobs coming from deep within you aren’t full of joy at the news that you’re going to be a mother.

They’re pained. Cries full of sorrow, anguish, and fear. As the confusion flashes across their faces, all you can do is weep harder, and louder.

“Wait a minute, I thought you would be happy.” Maria’s hands reach for yours and she holds them tightly as she tries to understand what it is that is causing such a negative reaction. “You and Luke tried for a really long time to have another baby. Why are you so upset?” She keeps her voice calm, kind. Warm. It wasn’t that she was judging you—Maria wants to help you, however there’s no way for her to help you if she doesn’t know what’s causing your grief in the first place. “What’s the matter, honey? Are you afraid after what happened last time?”

“I can’t be pregnant,” you rasp out. “I can’t—”

“Hey now, it’s alright. C’mere.” Tommy shifts and he moves to sit down beside you against the wall. His arm drapes around your trembling shoulders in an effort to comfort you. As your entire body shudders with sobs, he pulls you close against his side, rubbing your arm with his hand. Once they’ve subsided and little hiccups are all that are left, he finally speaks again. “You can talk to us, little lady. ‘Bout anythin’ that’s on your mind. We care ‘bout you a whole lot. Y’know that, don’t you?”

“Tommy’s right,” Maria nods. “You’re like family to us. You can come to us about anything. We’ll do whatever we can to help you, okay?”

You shake your head tightly. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

She lets out a small sigh and glances at her husband with a look of defeat. “I think you should run down to the clinic and get Luke. He’ll know what to do to calm her down.”

“No!” you shout loudly, startling them both. “I—Luke can’t find out that I’m pregnant. He just can’t know, or else—” A fresh batch of tears spring forward as you clamp a hand over your mouth, muffling another wail.

“Or else what?” Maria asks, raising an eyebrow.

Or else he was going to fucking kill you.

Tommy grabs your wrist, gently tugging it away from your face. “Or else what?” He echoes his wife. “What is goin’ on? Is there somethin’ we should know ‘bout?”

Yet another sob escapes you and his fingers curl tighter around your wrist, firmly, but he’s careful not to be too harsh.

“We’re gonna need you to tell us what’s goin’ on.”

There’s no way around it. Around any of it.

You have to tell them.

Swallowing harshly, you admit, “There is.”

The couple waits expectantly.

“The baby isn’t Luke’s.” You mumble it so quietly and incoherently that neither of them hear it despite being in such close proximity.

Maria furrows an eyebrow. “What did you say?”

“The baby isn’t Luke’s!” You cry out, yanking your wrist out of Tommy’s hand. “This baby isn’t his and that’s why he can’t fucking know!”

And just like that, the truth comes tumbling out.

Luke’s violence towards you.

Your romantic affair with Joel.

Ellie discovering the abuse and telling him about it.

Your stubborn refusal to let either of them do anything to help you.

You spare no details of everything that had taken place over the last several months, and by the time you had finally finished, both Tommy and Maria were rendered completely speechless.

“Can one of you say something? Please? Anything at all?” Your voice is small, feeble.

After a minute, Tommy pulls his arm from around your shoulders and stands up. He helps Maria up to her feet before he extends his hand to you. “Alright, first thing’s first. Let me get you up off this floor, little lady.”

His voice is soft, and so is his gaze.

“Tommy how can you—after everything that I’ve done? Your brother—”

“Please. Just let me help you off the floor and then we can talk ‘bout it. Okay?”

You accept his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. Much to your surprise, he doesn’t let it go as he leads you out of the bathroom and back into the living room where he sits you down on the couch. Maria, who hasn’t said a single word, takes a seat beside you.

Tommy kneels down in front of you, placing a warm and gentle hand on your leg. He almost looks a little bit guilty, as if he should have known what was being done to you behind closed doors. “Look, m’gonna ask you a question and I need an honest answer. How long has he been doin’ this to you?”

Anxiously, you start wringing your hands in your lap.

“Tommy, I can’t. Please, don’t—”

“Tell me,” he encourages you, softly. “When did it first start?”

Your throat bobs. “Two months after my dad died,” you confess, another tear rolling down the side of your face.

Maria stiffens. “Luke has been putting his hands on you for two years?”

“Yes.”

You can hear the shame in your own voice—shame for letting the abuse go on as long as it has, for everything to come to light like this.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Tommy sighs heavily and hangs his head. “Joel told me. He fuckin’ told me.”

You wipe at your swollen eyes with your forearm.

“What are you talking about, Tommy?”

He sighs again.

“Months ago, the day after the big summer party,” he begins to explain. “We were at the bar. Joel was askin’ me ‘bout you and Luke. Said somethin’ just wasn’t right when he saw you two together for the first time. He tried to tell me somethin’ was wrong and I—I didn’t fuckin’ believe him. Told him he was seein’ what he wanted to see ‘cause I knew he liked you. I fuckin’ told him that you and Luke were happy. He tried to tell me and I didn’t fuckin’ listen to him.”

“Tommy, please don’t blame yourself for this,” you beg him. “I’m the one who chose to hide it. This is my own fault, okay? This is all on me, not on you.”

Maria furiously shakes her head. “It’s not your fault and it sure as hell isn’t on you. You’re the victim here.”

Victim.

The word makes you cringe.

“But it is my fault, Maria. I hid it from you guys for two fucking years.”

“But why? Why did you hide it? Why didn’t you come to us?” Tommy’s voice is strained. “You should’ve told us what he was doin’ to you. We—I could’a done somethin’ to stop it. I could’a helped you.”

“Because. I didn’t want to risk getting him thrown out of the community. Jackson needs him, Tommy.”

“Like hell we do,” Tommy rises to his feet. “Ain’t no way that we’re gonna tolerate that fuckin’ shit here.” With his hands curled tightly into fists, he spins around and starts heading towards the front door.

You stand and chase after him, catching him just as he opens it. “Where the hell are you going?”

“To confront that pathetic son of a bitch—”

“Tommy, please! Don’t do that.” Grabbing his arm, you shoot him a pleading look. “Please, think about this for a minute.”

“Ain’t nothin’ for me to fuckin’ think ‘bout, alright?”

“Yes, there fucking is! This town needs a doctor. They need Luke—Maria needs Luke.” You glance over at her just as she appears in the hallway with both hands on her belly. “God forbid that something goes wrong—she goes into preterm labor or she has a complication when she gives birth. Did you think about that?”

“We’ve got two nurses,” he reminds you.

“Two nurses who only know basic neonatal care. That’s it. If something serious happens, Maria’s going to need Luke. And the baby’s going to need him too.”

You knew you’d gotten your point across when Tommy turns to his wife, helplessly.

“Fuck,” he curses, slamming the door shut. “She’s right. I fuckin’ hate to say it, but she’s right ‘bout that.”

“I am right,” you state and his attention flits back to you. “Luke has to stay and you both know that as well as I do. For the good of Jackson, he has to stay.”

Conflicted, Tommy growls out in frustration. “So what, I’m just s’pposed to give him a fuckin’ pass? How the hell can you expect us—how can you expect me to let that motherfucker walk around this place knowin’ what he’s been doin’ to you over these last two years?”

Your fingers dig into his arm, a fresh batch of hot tears stinging your eyes. “Tommy, if this community suffers without Luke because of me, it will destroy me. The guilt will fucking destroy me.”

Finally, Maria decides to step in. “Listen, I know that you’re trying to look out for the people of this town and I get that. But you’re risking your own life by asking us to let him stay here.” She walks over to you, taking your hands in hers. “Honey, I know men like Luke because I used to prosecute men like Luke. I would take them to court on murder charges.” Her eyes find yours. “I don’t want to scare you, but if that is the only way for me to get through to you, then I will sit you down and I will tell you all about what happened to the women who swore to me their abusive husbands would never, ever take it that far.”

You swallow harshly and a chill runs up your spine.

“I’ll leave,” you squeak. “I’ll leave him.”

“And what if he doesn’t let you walk away?”

Tommy crosses his arms over his chest. “He will if I’m the one who fuckin’ talks to him. I ain’t gonna give him the choice. He has to let her go.”

Panicked, you furiously shake your head. “No! I can do this on my own, Tommy. I can handle him alone. I don’t need you to do it for me. I can fix this without your help, okay?”

“You can’t,” he says, firmly. “You just can’t.”

“Yes, I can—”

He cuts you off with a pleading look.

“You need to let us help you. Please. Let us help you.”

You had agreed to it, but only on one condition.

“I need a couple of days,” you’d told them.

Tommy frowned. “No. It’s happenin’ tonight. We’re gonna talk to Luke, you’re gonna pack up a couple bags, and we’re gettin’ you away from him. You can stay here with us for a while. You’ll be safe.” Taking notice of the shocked look on your face, he said, “I know you ain’t crazy enough to think I’m gonna let you go home to him tonight. Ain’t no way in hell.”

“I—this is all happening so fast. It’s too overwhelming, Tommy. I just need a day or two to process everything before I take that leap.”

“And give Luke the fuckin’ chance to hurt you again?”

“He hasn’t laid a finger on me in weeks now.”

Tommy scoffed, “Well, someone give him a fuckin’ medal!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “He hasn’t hit his wife in weeks! What a fuckin’ guy!”

You recoiled, his sarcasm stinging like he’d poured salt straight into the open wound.

“Tommy,” Maria glared at him. “Not helping.”

He immediately shot you an apologetic look.

“Shit. Sorry, little lady. I’m just real worried ‘bout you. I don’t like the idea of you goin’ home to him tonight, and much less knowin’ that you’re pregnant, y’know?” His eyes had fallen to your stomach with sudden curiosity. “When, uh—when do you plan on tellin’ Joel ‘bout the baby, anyway?”

Heat flooded your face and neck.

“I—I’m not really sure about that yet.”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy! She just told you that she’s feeling overwhelmed,” Maria chastised him. “Let’s take it one step at a time, okay? Our first priority is going to be to get her out of that house. She has already agreed to letting us help her, so I think there’s a bit of room for compromise. Here’s the deal.” She put a hand on your shoulder. “As much as I don’t want to let you go home to him tonight either, I’m going to allow it so you can take a breather. Tomorrow in the afternoon when you get home from work duty, I’ll come over and help you pack some clothes and necessities, and we can bring them over here to our place.”

Nervously chewing your lower lip, you asked, “And then what?”

“I’ll go confront Luke,” Tommy stated. “Best if you ain’t there when I talk to him, little lady.” He turned to Maria, placing a hand on her belly. “I don’t want you to be there either, sweetheart. I ain’t takin’ any chances and puttin’ you and the baby under stress so I’m gonna have to handle him alone, alright?”

Maria nodded, shifting her attention back to you. “So? Do we have a deal?”

Meekly, you had nodded in agreement. “Yes. We have a deal.”

The rest of that evening passes by in a blur.

Autopilot had taken over the moment that Tommy took you across the road and dropped you off at your door.

“Any problems, you come get me,” he’d said. “You come and get me. No matter what time it is, alright? You fuckin’ come and get me if he tries anythin’.”

All that you could do was give him a weak nod and then you’d turned around, slipping into the house.

You don’t remember cooking dinner.

You don’t remember looking at the clock, noticing it was well past dinnertime and realizing that Luke would be home late as usual. You don’t remember fixing him a plate and leaving it on top of the stove for him to find when he came home, storing all of the leftovers, and washing the small pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

You don’t remember heading upstairs afterwards, you don't remember taking a long shower, brushing your teeth or changing into your pajamas.

It wasn’t until hours later, when the bedroom door opened and Luke walked in, that autopilot finally disengaged.

“You’re still up?”

You’d been sitting on the foot of the bed anxiously picking at your fingernails without even realizing it until he glared at you—he’d always hated the habit and spent months smacking it out of you.

Ceasing from messing with your hands, you drop them into your lap.

“You’re home really late again,” you say, quietly.

“I made a last minute house call. John’s little boy came down with a hell of a fever tonight.” Luke sets down his satchel bag and shrugs out of his jacket—as he does so, you catch sight of the tiny, reddish purple bruise on his neck, right below his ear. Draping his jacket over a nearby chair, he arches his brow as if he were silently challenging you to confront him, as if he’s daring you to ask him who had given him a love bite.

You don’t care. You don’t care about what or who Luke has been doing over the last several nights when he’s been coming home so much later than usual.

Kicking off his black boots, he saunters over to you, his mouth stretching into a cruel, satisfied little smirk.

Oh, he knows damn well you’ve already figured it out.

He wanted you to figure it out.

“Spend the afternoon at Tommy and Maria’s again?”

“Yes. I did.”

“I see.” He hums. “She was telling me during her exam this morning at the clinic that you’ve been helping her knit some clothes for the baby. Is that so?”

“I have,” you murmur, looking down to avert his curious gaze as he stops in front of you. “We’ve been making blankets for the baby, too.”

Luke cups your chin, forcing your eyes back up to meet his. “Well, isn’t that sweet of you.” He roughly curls his fingers around your jaw, his thumb brushing along your quivering lower lip. He hums again. “Something about you seems different, darling. Been looking a lot prettier to me these days.” He lets go of your jaw and brushes your hair behind your shoulder, his finger skimming the strap of your cotton pajama top. “How long has it been now, sweetheart?”

Your throat goes dry, your lips parting in shock as Luke pulls it down your arm, his palm grazing over your skin.

No. This can’t be happening. He wants to—?

Without waiting for a response, Luke grabs one of your hands and places it over his belt buckle.

Noticing your expression, he laughs again. “Why do you look so surprised?”

“You—you haven’t wanted to touch me in months.”

Luke shrugs. “Well, what can I say? I’m suddenly in the mood for my pretty little wife’s cunt.” His grin stretches from ear to ear. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky this time. Maybe we’ll have a little one of our own running around this place. I’m feeling rather optimistic tonight.”

You’re going to be fucking sick all over him.

No, you can’t let him do this to you.

You can’t let him touch you.

He pushes your hand lower, right over his bulge.

“No!” Tearing your hand away, you jump up and roughly shove him away from you. “Don’t you fucking touch me!”

He stumbles backwards, but he catches himself before he can fall.

Your chest heaves a d he stares at you, bewildered at what you had just done. “I’m so sorry that whoever you fucked before you came home wasn’t enough for you, but you are not fucking touching me,” you spit at him. “In fact, you’re never touching me ever again because I’m leaving. I’m done, Luke.”

“Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me.” Your voice trembles—you can’t be sure if it trembles out of anger or out of the sheer terror you feel. Maybe it’s a bit of both. “It’s over, Luke. This marriage is fucking over. I’m not putting up with what you’ve been doing to me for the past two years. I’m not going to tolerate it. Not anymore. I’m not going to allow you to keep on hurting me.” Lifting your hand, you slide your wedding band off of your finger and toss it at him. It clinks as it lands on the hardwood floor near his feet. “I’ll be out of the house by tomorrow evening.”

“Let me take a guess.” He speaks calmly, much too calmly, as he starts towards you. The time bomb has started ticking. “You’re going to move in with Joel Miller and his feral little rat of a kid?”

Hands curling into fists at your sides, you seethe, “Where I move is none of your fucking business, Luke.” He steps closer and your courage starts to falter. You can feel yourself wanting to back down—the thought of your unborn child is the only thing that keeps you from completely losing your nerve. “Here is the deal. You’re going to let me leave and you’re going to stay the fuck away from me. If you do that, then I won’t tell anyone anything about the things you’ve done to me. It’ll be like none of it ever happened. We both move on with our lives. Separately. Got it?”

He draws closer and closer. Much too close.

“Oh, you silly, silly girl,” he tsks. “Do you really think you can call the shots? Do you really fucking think you have the upper hand here? That you can make the decision to end this marriage, just like that?”

Closer, until his chest brushes against yours.

“Luke, I’m giving you a fucking chance here,” you say, backing away until the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. With nowhere else to go, to run, you fall backwards onto the bed, scrambling up towards the headboard. Your heart is pounding, too hard and too fast—would it give out before he even has the chance to get his hands on you? “Luke, please, just let me go.” Clasping your hands together in a plea, you beg him, your back pressed against the headboard, “If at any point in our relationship you loved me—if at any point in our marriage you actually cared about me, you will fucking let me go in peace. Please. Just let me go. Let me fucking go.”

Luke stands at the foot of the bed, his face blank.

Emotionless. There isn’t a single ounce of compassion in his eyes. No mercy.

“Please,” you whisper once more. Curling both of your arms around yourself, you subconsciously protect your belly.

Luke reaches down and unbuckles his belt.

You watch, your stomach churning, as he slowly slides the black leather from the loops of his jeans.

“I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

“I mean it, Joel. Stay away from Luke.”

Joel clutches his stallion’s reins tightly in his hands as the pair fall into a slow, easy trot behind Tommy and his horse, Ranger.

He follows his brother as he leads the way through the quiet, tranquil plains of Wyoming. Instead of scanning their surroundings for signs of potential danger, all Joel can do is think about you—that was all he could ever do these days, was fucking think about you and about that fucking night.

The memory plays over and over in his mind on a loop, torturing him day in and day out. It never fucking stops. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

“I mean it, Joel. Stay away from Luke. And maybe it’s for the best if you just fucking stay away from me too.”

That’s precisely what he had done. He had stayed away from Luke. And against his better judgement, he had stayed away from you, too.

“How’s it feel to be back out here?” Tommy asks over his shoulder. He tugs at the reins and gives Ranger the cue to slow his trot, giving Joel and his horse, Bandit, the chance to catch up and ride at their side. “Bet you couldn’t be fuckin’ happier to be off house arrest, huh?” he adds, a light joking edge to his tone.

After about four and a half weeks, Joel had made a full recovery, and he was cleared to return to patrol duties. Wanting to ease him back into the swing of things after so much time off, Tommy decided to pair up with Joel as his partner for that morning’s watch. The two took a route just a few miles west of the community, one that was scoured every couple of days since it was so close to Jackson’s main gate.

“S’alright,” he mutters with a shrug that causes him to wince. His shoulder’s still a little sore. Ellie had assisted with his physical therapy, badgering him every single night to do the exercises in some book she’d found in the town’s library with Dina’s help. He had full range of motion again, and that’s all Tommy had needed in order to allow him to return to patrol.

“You feelin’ alright?” His brother notices the slight look of discomfort on his face. “Shoulder’s good?”

“Any particular reason you’re bein’ so annoyin’ today?”

Tommy feigns offense. “You got fuckin’ shot, Joel. Just makin’ sure you’re okay. Jesus.”

Joel lets out a small huff through his nose. “M’fine,” he assures him. “Shoulder’s good. Still hurts a little and the cold weather ain’t doin’ a whole lot to help, but ain’t nothin’ I can’t handle.” Sitting back in his saddle, he lets his thighs close around Bandit. “Whoa,” he utters to the animal, his fingers squeezing the reins as he signals for Bandit to come to a halt.

“What’s the matter? Why are we stoppin’?”

“This route’s clear, Tommy. We should turn around and go find the rest of the group. Check and see if the other routes are clear too.” Joel clicks his tongue, prompting Bandit to move again. He steers the stallion and starts turning around to lead them back east, but then stops once more. He glimpses over at Tommy, who hasn’t moved a muscle. Noticing the odd, pensive expression on his face, Joel frowns, asking, “What’s wrong?”

Tommy chews the inside of his cheek, his apprehension written all over his face. “Uh Joel, there’s something we need to talk ‘bout and maybe it’s best if we do it while we’re out here, just the two of us.”

Confused, Joel’s eyebrows pull together. “What is it?”

His brother hesitates. His lips purse together, a sudden look of regret flashing across his features.

“Tommy?” Joel prompts. “The hell’s goin’ on?”

Exhaling a heavy sigh, he states, “You were right.”

“Right ‘bout what?”

“‘Bout Luke.”

Joel freezes in the seat of his saddle.

“You were fuckin’ right ‘bout him mistreatin’ her.”

His grip around the reins tightens, skin stretching thin over his knuckles so tight they’d gone white.

“She was over at mine yesterday afternoon. Ended up tellin’ me and Maria everthin’ ‘bout Luke and what he’s done.” Rolling his lower lip between his teeth, Tommy pauses for a second before repeating, “You were right. You were fuckin’ right ‘bout that bastard from the start and I’m real sorry that I didn’t fuckin’ believe you, Joel.”

Joel’s mind begins to race.

What had prompted you to finally tell Tommy and Maria about the abuse? Did something happen to you that he didn’t know about?

Ellie had been pretty good about keeping him posted. He would ask her about you the very minute she’d walk through the front door after her shift at the stables and she would provide him a full report.

“She’s fine. She ain’t hurt,” Tommy reassures him, as if he’d read his mind. “We’re plannin’ on movin’ her outta the house later on tonight.”

“What?” Finally, Joel speaks, his voice rigid.

Tommy holds his hands up in defense. “Now, hold on. I need you to give me a minute and let me explain—”

“She told you Luke’s been abusin’ her and you just let her go back to him? Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? Why didn’t you and Maria fuckin’ stop her?”

“Why didn’t you fuckin’ stop her the night you saw the bruise on her?” He shoots back at him.

Joel stares at him, his lips parting slightly.

How did he fucking know about that?

“She told us the truth ‘bout the affair too, Joel.”

“She did?”

“She did,” Tommy confirms with a nod. “I had a hunch, y’know. The day of the ambush, I thought I saw panic in her eyes when I told Ellie you’d been shot. Then I saw it again when she saw you there sittin’ on that table with a bullet in your shoulder, but I brushed it off. Thought she was just real worried ‘bout the kid seein’ as those two are thick as fuckin’ thieves, y’know?” Despite the serious nature of the conversation, he can’t help but let out a chuckle when he thinks of you and Ellie. “But now I know she was scared of losin’ you. That girl loves you, Joel. I know you love her too. I’m willin’ to bet it’s the reason you let her walk away that night. Why you kept her secret.”

“Jesus.” Joel exhales a shaky breath. “Y’must think I’m a real fuckin’ coward for knowin’ what he’s been doin’ to her and not doin’ a goddamn thing ‘bout it, huh?”

Tommy shakes his head.

“It’s a complicated situation, brother. She only did what she did for the good of the community. She’s still trying to do what’s best for Jackson, believe it or not. She, uh, she wants us to let Luke stay.”

“She wants you to let him stay?”

“Girl’s got too big of a heart. Doesn’t want the town to be without a doctor.”

“Ain’t no goddamn way you’d let him stay! After all the fuckin’ shit he’s done to her?” When his brother doesn’t respond, Joel narrows his eyes at him. “Jesus Christ. You can’t fuckin’ tell me you’re actually considerin’ it? Are you fuckin’ serious, Tommy? You and Maria would let that son of a bitch stay in Jackson? Knowin’ he’s spent two fuckin’ years puttin’ his hands on his wife?”

“Look here, alright? I don’t like the idea as much as you don’t, and neither does Maria,” he says. “But this ain’t exactly black and white, Joel. I really fuckin’ wish it was. But the hard truth is that Jackson does need a doctor, and unless one magically falls out of the fuckin’ sky, we ain’t got much of a choice here. My wife and child, they might need him, y’know? Maria’s considered a high risk ‘cause of her age. If somethin’ happens and there’s complications when she’s in labor, she and the baby are gonna need him. Our nurses, they ain’t really trained to handle things like that, y’know?”

Joel’s lips press together into a tight, thin line.

Of course it’s black and white to him—because he loves you. You’re his fucking priority. There’s no gray area for him. None.

But Tommy? His priority is Maria and their unborn child.

Joel can’t fault him for that, and he certainly isn’t going to try. But what about you?

“Listen, Joel. I know this is real fuckin’ hard, believe me I do. I care about that girl a lot, a whole fuckin’ lot. I saw her as family long before I knew ‘bout your relationship with her and before I knew she was—”

He stops abruptly, red splotching his cheeks.

Joel still doesn’t know he is going to be a father. Again.

“Before you knew she was what, Tommy?”

“Tommy!” A woman’s voice shouts. “Joel! Over here!”

The two brothers glance over their shoulders and see the rest of their morning patrol group heading towards them.

Tommy bites back a sigh of utter relief. That had been too fucking close.

He turns to Joel, lowering his voice. “Joel, I need you to listen, and listen to me real good. We’ve gotta take this one step at a time. First thing’s first, me and Maria are gonna get her outta that house. She can stay with us at our place for a while. She’ll be safe with us. That much I can promise you.”

“Then what?”

“Don’t know yet. We get her out first and then we figure things out from there. In the meantime, I’m gonna need you to stay calm, Joel. Please. Don’t go off and do somethin’ stupid, alright?”

That had been a lot easier said than done.

Joel needed to talk to you.

He needed to fucking see you.

But his brother had been adamant.

“Don’t fuckin’ get involved, Joel. Not ‘til we get her out. I don’t want things to fuckin’ explode in our faces, alright? Let me handle this.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel leans back into the couch and looks down at the guitar in his lap—he’d just spent the last hour carefully polishing it in an effort to keep himself occupied. He thought back to that night you’d come over to gift it to him, how he had kissed you for the first time mere hours before you showed up on his doorstep with your father’s Gibson.

As he gives the guitar a gentle test strum, he recalls the request you made for him to sing you a song and a dull ache settles in his chest, right over his heart. He’ll sing you every song you want to hear, if given the chance.

Part of him is optimistic that he would get the chance.

You were meant to be his. He was meant to be yours.

He just fucking knows it.

Joel’s train of thought is shattered by the sound of the front door opening, and then loudly slamming shut.

“Ellie?” He calls out.

Her voice comes from the hallway. “Yeah?”

“C’mere, kiddo.”

Ellie grumbles incoherently as she walks into the living room, hair disheveled, clothes filthy, and her sneakers caked with muck from the stables.

Joel frowns at her. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Today was just really fucking shitty and while that was a great pun, for once, it was not fucking intended,” she sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. “If you called me in here to ask me about her, I’d save my breath. She stayed home today. She’s sick.”

Joel’s stomach instantly drops. “She’s sick?”

“Yeah. With like a really bad cold or something.”

Putting down the guitar, he questions, “And who told you that?”

“Dina,” Ellie replies, looking puzzled. “She said Luke told her—” She stops abruptly as he jumps to his feet and immediately shoves past her, heading towards the front door. She spins around on her heel, following him. As he flies down the porch and starts down the road towards your house, she is forced to jog along beside him just to keep up with his stride. “What, what? What is it? Fucking answer me, Joel, what is it?”

“She ain’t fuckin’ sick, Ellie.”

“What do you mean she’s not—oh fuck. You don’t think she’s hiding out at home because—?” Ellie’s heartbeat stutters when the realization sinks in. “Luke.”

When the pair arrive at your place, they find a very, very distraught Maria Miller standing on the front porch, her hands wrapped around the doorknob. “Hon, I need you to let me in!” She turns and pulls the knob, desperately. “Please! Open the door for me!”

Your tearful voice comes from the other side. “Go away, Maria!”

The sound of Joel’s boots prompt Maria to turn around. “Joel,” she breathes out his name in relief. “I can’t get her to open the door. Tommy went to see if we have a spare key for the unit. He hasn’t come back and I don’t know what to do.”

“Break a fucking window, maybe?” Ellie snaps at her.

Joel silences her with a glare and then takes Maria by her arms, moving her to stand behind him. “Open the goddamn door!” he commands firmly, pounding his fist harshly against the wood. He can almost feel the way you freeze on the other side the moment you hear the sound of his voice. “Open this fuckin’ door right now!”

Ellie chimes in, “Come on, please open the door!”

“Go away!”

Joel continues to beat his fists against the door. “Show me what he fuckin’ did to you!” He shouts as he drops his hands to the doorknob, clawing at it as if somehow that’s going to do the trick and open the door. “C’mon! Show me what that fuckin’ bastard did to you!”

“Please, go away, all of you! Just leave me alone!”

“You know we can’t do that,” Maria calls. “You’re going to have to open this door and let us—”

Losing what very little patience he has to begin with in the first place, Joel cuts her off. “I will fuckin’ break this door down if I have to,” he threatens. “I’ll cause a scene and let everyone in this whole fuckin’ town know what Luke does to you. Is that what you want?”

He hears the lock click almost instantly.

Finally, you crack the door open and peek out to show them your face. “There, you fucking see?” Your face is blotchy, your eyes red and swollen from crying. “I’m fucking fine! Now fucking go away!”

You try shutting the door, but Joel is too quick and slips the toe of his boot in, wedging it between the door and the doorframe.

“Move, Joel!”

“Nope,” he says, keeping it planted firmly in place.

Not wanting to break his foot, you let up and he shoves his way inside with Ellie and Maria trailing behind him.

Taking a clumsy step backwards, you gather up the front of your knitted cardigan in your trembling hands, bunching it around your neck to conceal it. “Get out! Please, just get out!” you beg them through your sobs. “Please leave! I’m fine! Look at me, I’m perfectly fine—”

Heart hammering painfully against his sternum, Joel walks over and he takes your wrists. “Let me see. Baby, please. Just let me see.” His voice is raw, thick, as if he were on the verge of tears himself. He just knows he’s failed you, failed to keep all those promises he had made about never letting anything bad happen to you. He’s fucking failed. Again. He tries to find your gaze, but you refuse to look him in the eye. “Let me see,” he chokes out again, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast against the iciness of your own. “I’ll force you if I have to, so please just show me. Please, just fuckin’ show me what he did to you.”

Letting out another agonized sob, you drop your hands and let go of the material, letting it fall back into place at your sides and exposing your injury.

Maria gasps into her hands. “God.”

“Fuck.” Ellie’s eyes widen in complete horror.

Joel drops your wrists, taking a step backwards as his eyes glaze over the severe discoloration around your neck.

He feels fucking sick to his stomach, but it isn’t until he notices the clear imprint of a square belt buckle on the column of your throat that Joel thinks he might actually be sick all over the floor.

“What the hell is going on in here?”

Luke’s voice suddenly echoes through the foyer. He stands near the front door, looking thoroughly confused—that is, until he sees you standing there, exposing what he had done to you the night before with his belt. The very same belt he’s wearing now.

No one has the chance to speak.

No one has the chance to think.

No one even has the chance to breathe.

Joel charges at Luke. He roughly snatches the collar of his jacket and pulls him further into the foyer of the house, away from the open front door so that he has nowhere to run.

You rush towards them. “Joel, stop! No!”

Maria quickly hurries to stop you, grabbing you by the back of your sweater. She yanks you back and out of harm’s way. “Don’t!”

Horrified, you watch as Joel slams Luke straight into the mirror hanging on the wall—head first. He pulls him forward, then slams him back even harder, the impact completely shattering the glass. Hundreds of shards go flying across the hardwood floor.

“Oh shit! Watch out!” Ellie jumps back as a sharp piece of broken glass lands between her sneakers.

“Joel, stop it! Please, stop!” you cry out as Maria grasps your arm to keep you from jumping in the middle of the altercation. “Stop it!”

But Joel is too far gone. Ignoring your desperate cries, he wraps one hand around Luke’s neck, holding him in place. His other hand curls into a tight fist and he starts delivering bone shattering blow after bone shattering blow to his face. “You wanna fuckin’ hit someone?” He snarls as the man’s nose cracks beneath his knuckles. “You wanna fuckin’ put your hands on someone? Huh? Then you fuckin’ put ‘em on me! C’mon, I fuckin’ dare you to put ‘em on me!”

Throwing Luke onto the floor, Joel climbs on top of him and he secures both of his hands around his throat. He feels the uncontrollable urge to do to him what he had done to you—only, unlike Luke, he doesn’t need a belt, and unlike Luke, he isn’t going to stop.

He isn’t going to let him live.

Joel squeezes Luke’s neck, cutting off his oxygen.

“How do you fuckin’ like it,” he hisses, irises going from brown to black as he presses harder on his windpipe. “C’mon, tough guy, tell me how you fuckin’ like it.”

Luke feebly claws and scratches at his hands, gurgling as blood starts coming out of his nose and mouth.

“Joel! Stop!” Tommy rushes into the house, his boots scraping against the floor as he skids to halt. Without hesitating, he jumps into action. “Joel, stop! Fuckin’ let him go! Let him go!” He reaches down to pull him off.

“Look at what he did to her! Fuckin’ look at her!”

Tommy turns his attention to you, and the color drains from his face. “Jesus Christ,” he breathes out, shocked by the mark around your neck. He has half a mind to step back and allow Joel to finish the job, but with you, Ellie, and Maria watching on in terror, Tommy doesn’t have a choice. He grabs fistfuls of Joel’s denim shirt and tries to tug him off the man he’s about to kill. “Fuckin’ let him go, Joel! Right now! That’s an order!”

Luke’s attempts to fight him off grow weaker. His face is beaten beyond recognition, and there’s a pool of dark red growing under him, dripping from a deep laceration he’d sustained from the being slammed head first into the mirror. His hands fall from around Joel’s wrists. He’s close to losing complete consciousness.

“Joel, let him go!” Tommy bellows. “Now!”

“Tommy, be careful!” Maria warns him, worriedly.

Somehow, he finally manages to peel Joel off Luke. He shoves him up against the nearest wall, pinning him in place. Behind him, Luke coughs and sputters violently, gasping as he frantically tries to breathe some air back into his lungs.

“Fuckin’ let go of me!” Joel growls, his eyes wild as he drives his fists into Tommy’s chest. “I’ll fuckin’ kill him! Let me fuckin’ go!”

Tommy cups Joel’s face in his hands and tries to meet his gaze. “Hey, look at me, I need you to calm the fuck down—I said fuckin’ look at me, Joel!” He demands. “I need you to calm the fuck down. I know that he fuckin’ deserves it, alright? Trust me, it’s takin’ all the strength I’ve got in me not to fuckin’ let go, let you kill the son of a bitch. Hell, there’s a part of me that wants to help you fuckin’ do it! But it ain’t the way we handle things here. M’gonna need you to take a breath and calm down, big brother. If anythin’, just do it for her sake, alright?”

Joel’s chest heaves, his breaths rough and ragged as his eyes flicker over to you. His heart sinks at the sight of you sobbing uncontrollably in Ellie and Maria’s arms.

Groaning, Luke rolls over onto his stomach and spits a mouthful of blood into the floor. “You can fucking have her,” he rasps, looking up at Joel through swollen eyes. “Keep her. Keep the useless little whore.”

Blinded by white hot rage, Joel starts thrashing around in Tommy’s grasp and tries to break loose. “Fuckin’ call her that again you fuckin’ son of a bitch—”

“Shit.” Dropping her arms from around you, Ellie steps forward, standing protectively in front of both you and Maria.

“Get the fuck off me, Tommy! M’gonna fuckin’ kill him!”

Maria tucks your face into her shoulder. “Don’t watch.”

“Joel, fuckin’ stop it already!” Tommy struggles to keep him in place. “You’re scarin’ her half to death!”

“I don’t fuckin’ care—”

Tommy’s fingers curl around the collar of his shirt. He slams Joel back against the wall so hard, the mirror, or at least what’s left of it, falls. The square frame breaks in half when it hits the floor.

“Well, you should fuckin’ care! She’s pregnant, Joel.”

You lift your head from Maria’s shoulder. “Tommy.”

Ellie spins around on her heel to face you. She stares at you with wide, round eyes. “You’re fucking pregnant?”

Joel looks over at you. Just as shocked, if not more.

“What?”

Tommy grabs his chin, forcing his older brother to look at him once more. ��It’s true,” he murmurs quietly. “So please, just take a goddamn breath and calm the fuck down. For her sake—and for the sake of your child.” He releases Joel’s shirt and takes a careful step backwards towards Luke, who is still groaning in pain on the floor. Once he realizes Joel isn’t going to charge him again, Tommy turns around and grabs the injured man by the lapels of his jacket, pulling him up to his feet in a rough, careless manner. “Get the fuck up,” he says. He drags him towards the door. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“Tommy? Where are you taking him?” Maria questions him.

“Town jail. M’gonna throw his sorry ass in a fuckin’ cell and leave him in there ‘til we figure out what to do with him.” He glances over his shoulder. “I’ll get the council together for an emergency meetin’ tonight.”

“Jesus,” Ellie mutters under her breath as soon as they disappear. “Did this really just fucking happen?”

Chest still heaving, Joel glances down at his bloodied, torn knuckles and then turns to you, his eyes meeting yours. The tension between the two of you is almost palpable.

Maria lightly clears her throat. “We should probably get out of here,” she suggests. “Let’s head on over to mine and Tommy’s while we wait for him to get back.”

“Are you cold?” Ellie asks, worriedly.

She holds up a blue fleece throw blanket she’d dug out from the hallway closet despite you warning her not to snoop around the house while Maria’s in the bathroom tending to Joel’s hand.

Shaking your head, you sigh, “I’m fine.”

“But it’s cold in here.” She drapes the blanket over your hunched shoulders. “Can I get you something? Water? Are you hungry? You should probably eat something—”

“Ellie, please stop with all the fussing.” You pat the spot on the couch beside you. “Just sit here with me. That’s all I need right now.”

Nodding, she sits down and angles herself toward you, getting a closer look at the wound you’d been left with.

“Shit,” Ellie mutters under her breath. Grimacing, she lifts a hand and gingerly presses her fingertips to your neck in disbelief. “Fuck, dude. How bad does it hurt?” She touches a particularly sore spot on the column of your throat and you hiss in pain. She retracts her hand and sputters an apology, “Fuck, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Wincing, you assure her, “It’s fine. It’s just a little tender right now, that’s all.”

“A little?” she scoffs.

“Okay, maybe more than a little,” you admit.

Ellie observes you for a moment. “Are you okay?”

“It’ll heal, Ellie. It looks worse than it really is.”

“No, I mean—” Pausing, Ellie moves her hand, placing it on your stomach. “Is the baby okay?”

You glance down at yourself, almost as if you expected to see something different about yourself, but then you remember you’re only about six weeks along and there is nothing to see, no significant changes to your body. Perhaps it’s the reason why there’s a part of you having a hard time grasping that Ellie’s asking if the baby was okay. If your baby is okay.

After a minute, you nod. “Yeah, I think so,” you reply softly, putting a hand over hers.

Relieved, Ellie flashes you a small smile. “Good.”

“How are you two doing in here?” Maria appears in the living room with Joel trailing behind her. His right hand is wrapped up in a white bandage.

“We’re okay.” Ellie glances at Joel. “You okay?”

He gives a quick, subtle nod of his head. “M’fine.”

“We can take her home now, right?” When Ellie doesn’t ge the immediate response she’s seeking, she shoots him a tiny little glare. “She’s coming home with us, isn’t she? I mean, she fucking has to come home with us.”

He still doesn’t answer her question.

All Joel can do is stare at you, jaw clenched and his lips pressed into a tight, thin line.

“Hey, Ellie, how about we go into the kitchen and make some tea?” Maria beckons to her with her hand.

She snorts. “Seriously? Who the hell wants fucking tea after that fucking shitshow—”

Maria pins her with an exasperated glare. “Ellie.”

“Oh shit, okay. I get it now,” Ellie quickly realizes it’s simply an excuse for the two of them to leave the room. Dropping her hand away from your stomach, she jumps up to her feet and wraps her arms around you. Her hug is brief, but full of warmth and reassurance, as if she’s silently telling you everything’s going to be alright. She releases you and follows Maria to the kitchen, leaving you and Joel alone.

Nervously, you stand up, your knees wobbling.

You feel torn—torn between wanting to run over to him and jump into his arms, and wanting to run away in the opposite direction to find somewhere to bury your head in shame. You’d promised him he had nothing to worry about, swore to him you couldn’t bear a child, and now here you were, carrying his and putting a responsibility on his shoulders he didn’t ask for. A responsibility that, surely, he doesn’t want.

On top of everything else he’d been through with you.

No, because of you. And now this?

Somehow, you muster up enough courage to speak.

“Joel,” you squeak his name. “Say something.”

“You sure you’re pregnant?” He asks, quietly. He stands across the room, making no move to come closer.

Swallowing harshly, you nod. “I’m sure.”

“How long have you known?”

“I only just found out yesterday,” you swear.

“And Tommy and Maria fuckin’ knew before me?”

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or if he’s disappointed—not that either was a better option than the other.

“I was here with them yesterday in the afternoon. I got sick out of nowhere. Maria’s the one who suspected it and suggested I take a pregnancy test when I realized I haven’t had my period since August. After the first time that you and I—well, you know.” Shifting from one foot to the other, you continue to explain, “It never even fucking crossed my mind, Joel. I didn’t notice anything. I didn’t notice the symptoms. Missing my period, the dizziness, and the nausea. I was so busy trying to keep myself from fucking falling apart without you that it all went right over my head.”

Joel’s harsh expression suddenly softens.

“I took the test. When the results turned out positive, I just lost it. I fucking lost it, and I told Tommy and Maria everything because I was scared.” Your voice breaks, and a tear slips out from the corner of your eye, rolling down the side of your face. Several more threaten to follow, but you blink them back. “They offered to help me, Joel. They wanted to get me out of the house last night, but I was too fucking stubborn. I didn’t listen to them. I thought I’d be fine for one more night, but when Luke came home, he wanted to be intimate with me.”

Joel sucks in a sharp breath. His anger boils in his veins all over again. “And did he—he touch you like that?”

“No, of course not. I didn’t let him. I couldn’t let him. I told him not to touch me and I pushed him away.”

“Then what happened?”

“I told him that it was over. That our marriage was over and I was leaving. That’s when he took off his belt and he—” Gesturing to your throat, you start sobbing again as images of the night before flood your mind.

Luke had done pretty horrific things to you before, but this?

This had been the worst of them. He almost killed you.

“Baby.” Joel rushes over to you and pulls you right into his arms. “Shh, darlin’. S’alright,” he soothes. “S’alright, you’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

Whimpering, you met into his touch, the very touch you have been missing with every fiber of your being. “I’m so sorry, Joel,” you croak into his chest. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

He pulls away slightly, peering down at you. “Sorry? For what?” Without even giving you the chance to answer, he assures you, “There ain’t nothin’ for you to apologize for, sweet girl. Alright?”

You let out a tearful scoff. “Joel, I’m pregnant. And it’s fucking yours,” you remind him, the guilt in your tone loud and clear. “Don’t you remember how worried you were about it? And how I told you that you had nothing to be concerned about?”

“Don’t put it all on yourself, peach.”

You almost smile.

Oh, how you’ve missed hearing him call you that.

“Look, this is on me too, baby. Part of me knew there was still a possibility, but I didn’t care. All I cared ‘bout was makin’ you mine every fuckin’ chance I got.” Joel’s hand cups the side of your face. He chuckles nervously and says, “Y’know, at one point, I kinda thought I was at the age where I’m shootin’ blanks more than anythin’ else. Guess we were both wrong, huh?”

“Joel—”

He cuts you off. “And if you’re worried I’m upset ‘bout you bein’ pregnant, you’re wrong ‘bout that too, darlin’.”

Surprised, you blurt, “You mean, you want the baby?”

Now it's his turn to be taken aback.

“Y’thought I wouldn’t want it?”

“Yeah,” you confess, sheepishly. “I thought you would be mad about this, if I’m being honest, Joel. I wasn’t sure if you’d even want anything to do with it.” Noticing he’d taken some offense to the notion that he wouldn’t want his own child, you exhale a small sigh and place a hand on his chest. “Come on, Joel, can you honestly blame me? When you were the one who was so damn worried about me getting knocked up in the first place? Wouldn’t you have thought the same if you were me?”

He grazes your cheek with his thumb. “Can’t lie to you, sweetheart. I probably would have.” Letting his hand fall away from your face, Joel takes a seat on the couch and pulls you down onto his lap. “Sure as hell wasn’t in my plans to have another kid in my fuckin’ fifties. But y’know, the idea of having a little one runnin’ around, it ain’t all that fuckin’ bad.” He pauses, adding with a faint grin, “‘Specially if he or she happens to look like you.”

Relieved, you lean into his chest, shoulders sagging in exhaustion.

“You alright?” Joel murmurs, pressing a kiss into your hair.

Burying your face into his neck, you breathe him in. “I am now that I’m with you,” you confess as he wraps his arms around you, holding you tighter than he ever has before.

“M’gonna take real good care of you, darlin’. Both of you,” Joel reassures you, softly. “Nothin’s gonna hurt you, baby. S’long as you’re with me, nothin’ or no one is ever gonna hurt you ever again. Swear it on my life.”

#fic: a safe haven #fic: ash #joel miller series #Joel Miller angst #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #tw: dv #tw: domestic violence #tw: pregnancy

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outoftheseine · 1 year

Text

- JOEL MILLER FIC RECS -

(most of these fics are age-gap romance. some fics have mature content (+18) so minors please respect the authors and do not interact). also please beware of the canon trigger warnings (violence, language, guns, death, blood etc.))

part 2 | main masterlist

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

one thing i am missing • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @joelscruff (fluff, smut)

to do the right thing • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @pedgeitopascal (very angsty, tw: abortion and ppd, childbirth)

if the door wasn't shut • joel miller x platonic!reader

↳ by @heartpascal (very angsty)

joel miller x feral!fem!reader

↳ by @ohraicodoll (angst, lots of blood, sometimes gore, reader has a given nickname, smut)

if he wanted to • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @sl-ut (angsty, tw: mentions of suicide and sa, drug use)

twenty years later • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @yelena-bellova (angst)

weakness • joel miller x fem!reader part two

↳ by @pedgeitopascal (fluff, little angst, smut)

the stable girl • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @guess-my-next-obsession (mature, angst, fluff)

friendly fire • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @the-ginger-hedge-witch (angst, smut)

uneven odds • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @theetherealbloom (angst, fluff, smut, anxiety)

burning in a hopeless dream • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @tightjeansjavi (angst, implied smut)

ONE-SHOTS/BLURBS

from love and life • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @bubbles-for-all-of-us (child birth, fluff)

adjustments • joel miller x fem!teacher!reader

by @softlyspector (fluff, smut, mentions of dead loved ones, tw: mentions of suicide)

kiss it better • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @morningbluebell (mostly fluff)

why can't i breathe? • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @oliviajdjarin (fluff, flustered joel)

no time to die • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @davosmymaster (very angsty, hurt/comfort, chef's kiss, so good)

she's a gun • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @cowgurrrl (fluff)

darlin' • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @charnelhouse (angst, tw: sexual assault and mentions of suicide, smut, hurt/comfort)

alone and foresaken • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @chelseasdagger (smut, very good smut actually)

once again in your arms • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @foli-vora (angst, tw: loss of a child, fluff)

too late • joel miller x reader

↳ by @alloftheimagines (angst, injuries, hurt/comfort)

don't let me drown • joel miller x reader

↳ by @alloftheimagines (angst, hurt/comfort, tw: drowning, some nudity but nothing explicit)

nightmares • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @youlightmeupfinn (tw: panic attacks, nightmare, hurt/comfort)

saving • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @youlightmeupfinn (angst, hurt/comfort, joel being an asshole)

a house in nebraska • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @highdramas (angsty, heavy feeling of nostalgia, mentions of sexual interactions)

spring breeze • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @thedgeoftheuniverse (fluff, hurt/comfort)

for you, anything • joel miller x reader

↳ by @mellowsaturns (fluff, sick!reader, domesticty)

perfectly wrong • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @psychedelic-ink (enemies to lovers, smut)

domesticty looks good on you • joel miller x reader

↳ by @girlscull (sooo fluffy)

ghosts of his past • joel miller x reader

↳ by @lol-im-done (very angsty, made me cry)

soft touches • joel miller x reader

↳ by @theeoriginals (fluff, hurt/comfort)

close call • joel miller x reader

↳ by @rogueonestan (hurt/comfort, angst)

first kill • joel miller x reader

↳ by @alloftheimagines (angst, hurt/comfort)

illusory light • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @lavendertales (angst, injuries, fluff)

playing house • joel miller x reader

↳ by @me-and-your-husband (some angst, smut)

try to love me, honey please • joel miller x reader

↳ by @peterhollandkait (hurt/comfort, angst, sad and soft joel, mentions of blood and death)

confused warmth • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @rise-my-angel (angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut)

soft spot • joel miller x gn!reader

↳ by @orangevtae (very fluffy, some hurt/comfort, sunshine x grumpy)

love in the time of cordyceps • joel millet x fem! reader

↳ by @sameheart-sameblood (angst, fluff, mentions of blood)

one bed • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @frannyzooey (good old one bed trope, explicit)

sleeping bag • joel miller x reader

↳ by @quin-ns (very fluffy)

lavender haze • joel miller x pregnant!fem!reader

↳ by @forever-rogue (soo fluffy, made my heart flutter)

intent • joel miller x fem!reader

↳ by @forever-rogue (angst, joel is an asshole, fluff)

3K notes · View notes

greatstormcat · 5 months

Text

Of Wolf And Man - Part 3

Poly TF141 x f!reader

Series Masterlist

TW: MDNI 18+, monster fucking, p in v, fingering, knotting, mentions of previous SA, angst

Autumn

The last few weeks of summer bleed in together as you spend more time with, what you now know to be, the Pack. It takes a little bit of getting used to, but not as much as you had first thought. Discovering Werewolves existed outside of fairy tales was a shock, as was watching four huge men turn into wolves at will, but you adapted very easily. Getting used to their habit of walking around totally naked was the hardest thing, and an uneasy truce was found in the form of baggy shorts being kept in the cottage for when they turned up. Simon still groused incessantly about it though, if he even bothered to put them on at all, and you decided it just wasn’t worth the shouting anymore and let him be. You suspected he enjoyed the way you reacted anyway and you were only fueling his stubborn behaviour.

You asked questions, so many questions you were worried you’d piss them off but they were always happy to answer. They told you the differences between the Designations. Apparently Price and Simon were Alphas, the dominant ones, and Johnny and Kyle were Betas, and they told you of the lost Omegas. Hunted by humans over the centuries as trophies and feats of valour, the species has dwindled down to tiny isolated Packs, and the Omegas are almost all gone after being captured as pleasure slaves for human nobility in the past. That thought sickened you to your soul.

What takes you by surprise the most, however, is getting used to constantly having them nearby. You come to discover that they can’t stand you not being in sight of at least one of them, be it night or day. Even when they roamed their territory one of them would hang back with you whilst the others were away, and it turned out this had been going on for longer than you realised. Their protective instincts ran very, very deep. Having you sleep in the den with them seemed to be the best gift you could give them, curled in the middle of them in the huge communal sleeping platform that was built with the cabin they call the den.

The den itself was a beautifully made part stone, part wooden structure hidden up in the hills, with no access by road. The furniture and fixtures have been made by hand and changed over the years to create a comfortable space, and the solar panels on the roof are an addition in recent years along with a CB radio. The truck they use has its own, hidden car port, protecting it from the elements.

Spending time up there becomes second nature, and you quickly memorise the route through the deeper parts of the forest. You feel that they’d have you move up there permanently if they could only convince you, but you couldn’t abandon the cottage, and the thought of letting yourself get so closely entwined with them is… too intense.

However, this didn’t stop them from lavishing physical attention on you at any chance they could get. Touching was a big thing for them, they slept together and their bonds with each other went deep. You learned that Johnny and Simon were, what you thought of as, a pair, as were Price and Kyle. This didn’t stop them from sharing affections when it felt right though. In the Pack, everyone was loved equally and thoroughly by all.

It was a source of contention, however, that they wouldn’t actually fuck you, no matter how much you wanted them to. You understood that they were worried about hurting you with their knot, which was how their cocks swelled at the base during orgasm, something you’d never experienced of course. Over the course of the last month you’d been treated to insane amounts of being eaten out and taking multiple fingers, all as prep. The fascination still drew you though, how would it feel to have that inside you rather than in your hands.

You continue to clean and explore the various nooks and crannies of the ancient cottage as well, which leads to an unexpected find one morning. A loose panel in the bedroom shifts and you discover a space in the thick stone wall, begging for you to explore it.

Hidden in the depths you see a box in the dark recess, a layer of dust over the lid, and you reach out to tug it closer to the opening. It’s heavy, heavier than you expected, and you spend several sweaty minutes convincing it to shift close enough for you to pull it out. Disgruntled spiders skitter out of the way, and cobwebs cling to your arms as you work. Eventually it hits the floorboards with a heavy thud, dust mushrooming into the air and sending you into a coughing fit as you flap your hands ineffectually to clear the air.

The box is old and skillfully made, but without any fancy decoration, just lovingly sanded and polished wood and dark metal fastenings, which you guess at being iron. After a brief hesitation, imagining all kinds of curses and hexes that could be contained inside, you decide to open it and deal with the consequences. The contents are a massive disappointment after your imagined eldritch horrors, it’s just a collection of bits of paper, some looking old and bound with ribbon.

You leaf through them, and quickly become a lot more interested as you realise what this is. You pick one at random to examine more closely:

…..a lot more active in the evenings and mornings….

Full moon brings the inner beast to the surface…

..incredible sense of smell….even slight changes in hormones….

…John Price leads the pack as Alpha still…

Your eyes scan the hand written notes, the dates going back over hundreds of years with a variety of names at the bottom of each sheet, including Annie’s on the newest ones. What you have discovered is a history of the pack. You lean back against the wall reading for hours, excitedly skimming through what the previous inhabitants of the cottage have recorded about the local Werewolf Pack. The fact the one name is repeated by every different handwriting is almost too much to believe, John Price. It has to be the same Price, there’s no other way of looking at it.

The other names you read include Kyle Garrick who first appears about forty years ago in Annie’s notes, with Simon Riley and Johnny MacTavish joining the pack at the end of the 1800s. Several others are mentioned joining the pack but, sadly, the dates and causes of their deaths are recorded with due care and solemnity. What is quickly made apparent by flicking through each person’s entry in this record is no one ever leaves the cottage once they are here, every person lives out their entire life here once they’ve met the Pack. A tiny niggle of doubt creeps into the back of your mind, and you force yourself to hide the box away again in case one of them finds it, making a mental note to sit down and read everything in the near future.

One thing you hugely enjoyed was cooking and baking for the Pack, their appetites were insane and they ate everything you put in front of them with intense joy. You lean against your kitchen sink after having just given them another filling lunch, watching as they lounge happily around the table. Some items of clothing having been donned, but not much in the unexpected warmth of the day. The back door of the cottage stands open, letting a cooling breeze through the room.

“Quick question,” you call out, “you guys are quite instinct driven, yeah?” You ask with a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Yeah… why?” Johnny asks, narrowing his eyes at you, clearly sensing mischief brewing.

“So you like chasing things?” you continue vaguely, glancing quickly at the open door.

“Yeah… where are you going with this?” Kyle answers, and you see muscles tensing around the room as you take a small sidestep towards the opening. A grin splits your face a fraction of a second before you bolt through it.

Startled shouts turn into yaps and barks as you sprint as fast as you can out of the cottage and across the meadow. It’s frightening quick how soon they catch up to you, tongues lolling as they run beside you, nipping at your thighs and hands until Johnny sideswipes you and you crumple exhaustedly to the grass.

“What the hell was that?” Price grumbles, the first to change and lean over you possessively.

“Just wanted to see what you’d do,” you laugh.

“For fucks sake,” he growls but you see the humor in his eyes behind his stern voice. “I should strip you and mount you right here to put you in your place.” Heat licks through your core at the thought of him screwing you out in the open.

“You wouldn’t?” You gasp.

“Just try him, it’s the only way you’ll know for sure,” Kyle laughs, laying down beside you with his arm behind his head. It’s ridiculous how close you’ve become with them over the last few months. A peaceful moment unfurls as you lay there in the long grass, sweet smelling flowers still blooming around you under the clear blue sky. The cares of your life far, far away, or so you believed.

“Price, you hear that?” Simon snaps, the four of them suddenly becoming alert. “Are you expecting anyone?”

“No, why?” you answer, sitting up in confusion, unable to hear anything unusual over the rustle of leaves and birds calling.

“There’s a car coming,” Price answers, and you feel the tension in the pack at the unexpected intrusion.

“It’s okay, I’ll go and see who it is,” you say, getting up and dusting yourself off. “Maybe you guys should slip away before they get here?”

“I’ll stay, keep an eye on you,” Simon says as the others change one by one and move towards the trees. Price looks back over his shoulder and nods to Simon before running after Johnny and Kyle. You suspect they won’t be going far as the luxury car pulls up outside the cottage. You walk across the meadow with Simon at your side looking like an innocent, if enormous, pet dog.

As you near the silver car the door opens and your heart leaps into your throat as your boss gets out and waves at you. He’s wearing his usual expensive suit, probably a Tom Ford by the look of it, and looks totally out of place in this natural setting.

“Um, what are you doing here?” you ask as you get closer. You notice the way he wrinkles his nose as he looks at the cottage and how you’re dressed. Usually you’d be wearing a smartly tailored outfit, perfectly made up, so seeing you after you just rolled in a meadow was jarring.

“I wanted to check on you, no one has been able to reach you since you came up here,” he answers archly.

“I know,” you say flatly. “Come inside,” you say with little grace, Simon trotting ahead of you through the door and into the kitchen, clearly going to hide the discarded clothes.

You try to play the role of polite hostess and get him a glass of water, and he sits at the table in the middle of the kitchen and looking with distaste at the array of dirty plates and cutlery before him. You stand beside the large stone sink, arms wrapped tight against your middle and with Simon leaning heavily against your thigh, a reassuring presence.

“That's a big dog,” your boss comments, watching Simon warily as he pulls his phone from a pocket inside his jacket. You’d forgotten he hated dogs, so this was an unexpected bonus.

“Yeah he is, his name is,” you pause briefly, trying to think of a scary name for the huge black wolf sat beside you, “Ghost.”

“Okay, well… just keep him over there please,” he gulps, sweat clearly gathering on his forehead as he stares at Simon and taps his thumb nervously on the sleek case of his phone. “Look, the reason I’ve come all the way up here is to say I need you back. I know we agreed to a twelve month leave of absence but things have changed and I’m going to withdraw the agreement.”

“You can’t! I’ve got it in writing that my job is safe for the year. You owe me as much after what happened,” you explain, your hand drops down to rest on Simon’s head, fingers curling into his thick fur for comfort. You’re aware he is listening intently, getting answers you hadn’t intended to give away just yet, or at all really.

“I know what happened wasn’t ideal…” the man begins toying idly with his phone, and your temper flares.

“Ideal?! You let a client get away scot-free after he groped me!” you exclaim. I low growl rumbles from Simon in response to your words, and your boss’s eyes flick down to the huge wolf briefly. You’re mollified by seeing him swallowing impulsively.

“It was his word against yours, you had no witnesses who came forward to back up your allegation,” he says in a measured tone, absently turning his phone over and over in his hand. The constant fidgeting grates on your nerves.

“And because that client brings you in millions of pounds you sided with him. Yes, I remember. But now you’re telling me you can’t cope without me, right?” You say hotly.

“It’s not quite like that, but it's better for us to have you working than not,” he says stiffly. “It’s your choice, either you come back or we replace you. I will give you a month to decide, just to be fair, but beyond that I will not make you any promises.” He keeps jostling the shiny black device in his hand, knocking at the tabletop now, and you want to snatch it and smash it on the slate floor under your feet.

Simon huffs and trots out the back door of the cottage to your surprise, leaving you alone with your boss who continues to talk to you about projects and clients despite your obvious lack of interest. He begins opening emails and reading them to you from his phone screen, bemoaning the bad signal and lack of WiFi in the cottage.

You catch a glimpse of Simon stalking back in the front door of the cottage and silently coming into the kitchen behind your boss, then standing up in his human form.Your boss has no idea Simon is standing behind him as he flicks through his phone screen, the device directly over the glass of water. The werewolf leans down and whispers one word into his ear which you can’t hear, making him yelp and jump from his seat, the phone slipping from his hand and falling straight into the glass with a loud glug. Simon transforms instantly back into his wolf form and your boss turns to see nothing more than your guard dog looking at him impassively with his head tilted to one side.

“Oh no, your phone!” you shout with feigned concern, pulling his attention back to you. “Oh no it’ll be ruined, how clumsy of you to drop it.”

“What? No! Shit, its not waterproof!” He grabs at the sodden device frantically. You put on a show of helping him dry the damned device before he makes his excuses and heads back out to the car, glancing nervously around the cottage, clearly spooked by the voice in his ear. The car pulls away and vanishes between the trees lining the track, leaving you standing alone on the doorstep.

“Wanker,” you mutter to yourself as you turn back into the cottage. Simon sits on the sofa, Annie’s blanket draped across his lap, he can clearly see you are rattled already and he makes this small concession for you, his thick arm thrown along the back of the seat.

“I agree,” he nods, beckoning you over to sit beside him. As soon as you do you’re enveloped in him, pulled into his lap and held securely in a comforting embrace. “Is he always like that?”

“What, you mean a selfish prick? Pretty much,” you reply glumly.

“And he doesn't believe you were assaulted? That’s normal for him too?” You hear the anger in his tone, protectiveness rushing to the surface and you melt against him slightly.

“He believes one thing, and it's whatever makes him rich. He only agreed to the leave of absence to avoid me pressing charges and making a fuss about his favourite client. I really should have seen this coming.”

Simon puts his hands on either side of your face and tilts it up to him.

“Whatever you say happened, I believe you and so will the others. Your boss is a miserable piece of shit for siding with that client. Humans have too much attachment to money and it blinds you,” he says gently with a frown, then lets out a sigh as though deciding something.

“These scars for example,” he says, taking one of your hands and bringing it to his face to run the pad of your thumb over his top lip. “I was held captive for years, used in bear baiting to make evil people rich. Price got me out. Don’t let people use you just to make themselves rich.”

Your breath shudders as you feel the softness of Simon’s lip under your thumb, and you unconsciously part your own lips in response to the intimate gesture. Simon’s eyes lock onto your mouth, and a hot flash courses through you, made worse by the fact you see his pupils dilate when he smells it.

“How much longer before I’m allowed to… you know…” you ask, face warming with embarrassment as you drastically steer the conversation away from you leaving.

“D’you think you’re ready?” He asks with a cocky little smirk, taking the bait.

“Of course, but what about the others? Will they be pissed off?”

“It's fine, you’re safer with just an Alpha to start with, we’re better at controlling ourselves. Betas get pussydrunk far too easily and you’re not used to our anatomy,” he pauses. “Yet, anyway.”

“So, I could be with you?” you ask hopefully, gently plucking at the fine hair on his chest in a calculated act of coyness. Thoughts of the uncomfortable encounter dwindle as you feel Simon’s giving in to your desire, and heat pools low in your stomach. There’s an obvious nudge under the blanket against your thighs.

“Yeah, I guess it's about time,” he chuckles, taking your chin and forcing you to look him. His dark eyes draw you in, the comforting smell of him dispelling the tangled worries in your head. “If you trust me and you want this, just tell me.”

“I want this, I want you,” you say clearly.

“Fine, we’ll take it slowly and you tell me if you need to stop or anything doesn’t feel right. A knot is a hell of a thing to take, okay?”

“Sounds like you’re talking from experience,” you tease, but he looks back at you flatly.

“I am,” he states, and shakes his head at the look on your face. “Humans are so complicated, you make rules and draw lines over the most natural of things.”

He leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue sliding against yours as it has a dozen times before. With great care, he slowly undresses you, soft kisses pressing against your skin until you are bared to him. He takes his time, licking and sucking at your nipples, caressing the soft swells with his large hands. His huge body hovering over yours as he works you up into a needy, molten state of arousal with his thick fingers, until you mewl and beg for him.

Finally he relents, and sitting up Simon pulls your hips over his lap, settling you over his thighs so you hover over his red tipped cock. With great care he pushes you down, spearing you onto the veiny length with a deep, rumbling groan.

“Fuck… you’re so tight,” he hisses, gripping your hips until his claws dig into your skin of your hips. Your breath comes in sharp gasps as your muscles stretch around his girth, stinging slightly as you take him in.

“Just breath,” he whispers, pulling your head against his shoulder and rubbing the back of your neck tenderly. You’d expected him to be rough, to throw you around and fuck you raw, but the level of care and tenderness is unexpected and you find it easy to relax as you sink onto him fully.

“Gods… just breath for a moment,” he whispers against your ear, his thighs trembling under you. You rock your hips experimentally, feeling Simon moving inside you as you set a gentle pace, the sting of the stretch mellowing quickly and becoming a persistent, deep pleasure. His hands snap to your hips again as you cause friction to build.

“That’s it,” he groans breathily, “you’re doing so well. That’s it, just relax.”

You risk lifting your hips slightly, sliding up his length and back down gingerly, the resulting sensation making you clench around him, squeezing him hard and making you both moan. You do it again and feel his wide palms running up and down your back, his head falling backwards as you squeeze and stroke his cock with your wet heat.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, spurring you on as he lets you take the lead, controlling the depth and pace for your pleasure while he holds himself as still as possible and resists the urge to grab you and pound into you. A sheen of sweat coats his skin, and his muscles tighten beneath his skin, trying to change shape but he fights against it. All the time you grind yourself down onto his cock, your hands on his shoulders to stabilise yourself.

You feel it, the pressure building as the base of his cock swells and your walls pulse in response to the increased thickness. A needy whine bubbles from your throat at the alien sensation, but you don’t stop moving, feeling it pulling as it slips in and out of your drooling heat.

“Ya need to let me take over...” he pants and you slowly lift off of him, his cock hitting his stomach with a damp thud as it leaves you, and the emptiness it leaves behind is almost unbearable. You let him reposition you so you're kneeling on the sofa and he slots himself behind you, and carefully slides his thick cock back inside you. A firm hand rests between your shoulder blades, another grasping the meat of your hip, keeping you in position as Simon moves his hips in a sinuous motion.

“You okay?” he pants and huffs, voice thick and rough as the burgeoning knot settles back inside you.

“Yes, its… big,” you hiss.

“Thank you,” he grunts with a chuckle. “Play with your clit, it’ll help.” You do as he says and you arch your back at the added sparks of electricity that course through your body as a result. He picks up the pace in response, your orgrasm building within you.

“Fuck… fuckfuckfuck…” he lays across your back, kissing the skin and sharp teeth scraping across your shoulder blade. “Its gonna catch soon. Don't worry, okay?” He snaps his hips more sharply, forcing himself deeper and the knot catches, refusing to leave your body again and a tiny moment of panic rears inside of you.

“Simon…!” you whimper, trembling with the need to come and the new sensation.

“Yer okay, yer okay… doing so good… so good so fucking good…” he chants hoarsely, wet kisses trailing along your neck and you feel that calming effect again. His arms wrap around in front of you, caging you against him and you grab at his wrists to anchor yourself. He grinds his knot into you and heat flares inside you, pushing you over the edge into your orgasm. Your back arches and you push back against him, dragging your fingernails against his forearms and leaving red welts in their path. He snarls at the sudden dull pain and snaps his hips sharply against you a few more times, while you squeeze him so tightly he spills himself inside you with a deep growl.

Simon groans into your ear, rocking his hips into you as he comes, mouth sucking at your neck and teeth grazing your skin. You can feel how badly he wants to bite you in the tremble of his jaw, but his iron self control holds him back.

“Shit… that feels good,” you whisper, sparks of pleasure igniting while you feel his member twitching inside you and the heat of his cum starting to pool behind his knot.

“Good,” he mumbles, holding you tightly beneath him. “Just need a minute or two, you did so well.”

You spend several minutes tied together until the swelling calms, then Simon cleans you up and wraps you up with him to rest and recover.

“I want to do that again,” you murmur, your face buried in the crook of his neck contentedly. He chuckles back at you.

“Yeah, there’s no problem with that.”

The autumn wears on, and you find you’re spending more time in the den as the weather changes. There’s always an excuse for you not to go back to the cottage as the rains fall, and you spend more nights with the Pack. The first night you’d returned with the smell of Simon’s cum in you, you’d almost been tackled to the ground by Johnny and Kyle in their excitement and the Alphas had warned them not to get carried away.

You’d been exhausted but thoroughly satisfied by the time you’d taken both their knots the following morning after you’d recovered from your experience with Simon. Price was much gentler, as Simon had been, which was good considering his was nearly as big. One thing you knew now was a human man would never measure up after this.

As frost begins to coat the landscape in the early mornings, you stand at the window of the den drinking coffee after another warm and cosy night with them.

“You should stay here for the winter,” Price announces over his mug of coffee, and not for the first time since the weather began to cool down. “It's safer here, especially when the snows come in heavy. You won’t be able to get to town easily, if that shitbox car of yours will even start, which I doubt.”

“I doubt your crappy truck does much better in the snow,” you counter with a smirk.

“We don’t drive in the snow,” Kyle chimes in. “It's much more fun to run in it.”

You chuckle at that, imagining them running through the snow.

“I bet it is,” you agree. “But I’ve got to start thinking about getting ready to go back home. I’ve already risked a lot by not going back early, I don’t want to push my luck.”

“Piss on that!” Johnny snaps angrily surging up to pace the floor. Any talk of you leaving affects him poorly, his temper wearing thinner every time it comes up. It hadn’t gone down well when Simon had told them about the visit from your boss and the man’s threat.

“Settle down,” Simon warns him, and Johnny obediently sits back down in response to his instruction. Simon grasps the back of his neck and rubs his thumb against it to soothe him.

“So, are you really going back?” Price says once Johnny is quiet again. You look back out the window, guilt gnawing at you and making it hard to look at any of them. Even Kyle has an accusatory look in his soft, dark eyes that you can’t stomach.

“Money over pack?” He pushes you, and it leaves a bitter taste to hear it out loud.

“I’m not Pack though, am I?” You snap back at him, hating how he is making you sound so petty… so human. “I’m not like you.”

“That’s not the point, staying here with us is better than going back to your old life. You know that, don’t be stubborn,” he growls.

“It’s my decision, not yours!” Anger raging inside you at the way another man is trying to control you, to tell you what to do and manipulate you.

“It’s for your own good!” He says firmly. A red mist clouds your thoughts, and you feel torn. Guilt adds an edge to your emotions and you suddenly feel the need to lash out.

“No! It’s not! It's for you! I found a box in the cottage, it’s got notes on your from the last,” you wave your hand in the air trying to pick a number. “I don’t know, several centuries!”

“The box?” He asks.

“Yes! They’ve been keeping notes on you John Price,” You spit his full name in his face, something he’s never given you, then turn to the others one by one and jab a finger at them each. “Simon Riley! Kyle Garrick! Johnny MacTavish! You’ve been keeping people here for all this time, just to be your pet, your… your concubine!”

The moment you stop talking you see the hurt in his face, all their faces, and you know how incredibly out of line you are. Your heart shatters when Price turns away from you, showing you his back.

“Get out,” he growls and the hairs on your neck stand on end at the threat in his tone.

“Wait, she didn’t mean…” Kyle starts to say, getting up from his seat and giving you a cold stare.

“SHE GOES!” Price roars and even you feel the force he puts behind his voice, your brain screaming to get away from the enraged Apex predator before you. The three men flinch, heads bowed in submission and you bolt for the door.

You run, tears streaming down your face as you head for the cottage blindly, and rain begins to fall in icy, sharp bullets. The universe watches as you become soaked in punishment for hurting the kindest four souls you’ve ever known, until you burst, drenched and shivering, back into the cold confines of Annie’s cottage.

No fire burns in the hearth to warm you, the range has blown out and gone cold, so you crumple on the floor pulling the blanket around your shoulders, and weep for what you’ve done. For the first time all year you feel utterly alone.

---------------------------------------------

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yuri-is-online · 1 month

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Here's a short list of things that I think would affect yuu (not from an omegaverse world) being in twisted wonderland (omegaverse au)

The scent thing. In my mind, everyone has a scent, including betas, theirs are just weaker. So how would Yuu, who has no scent, be classified? Would ortho or idia want to study them and see what's different between twst folks and earth folks? Scent is usually just noted in smut scenes, but it does have a larger role in most a/b/o stories. Mainly, it's how people communicate emotions. If you're happy, it shows in your scent. If your distressed, it shows in your scent. If your scared, excited, horny, anxious, it shows in your scent. People probably focus on scent when it comes to emotions before they focus on your face or body language. So figuring out what Yuu is feeling is probably a lot harder. It's even worse if Yuu isn't that expressive in the first place. Although it does make me wonder about how people try to hide their scents when their trying to be aloof or stoic...

Noises. This also ties into emotions, the more extreme ones at least. A/b/o twst people purr when their happy or content and growl when they're feeling territorial. Yuu might be able to growl, not very well but whatever. But purring? Yeah no. Not happening. Bless Jades heart he's trying so hard to give Yuu gifts they like and listening for a purr and it just. Never comes. Also imagine being Yuu and you're just getting growled at on a daily basis that's just gotta suck lmoa

Warnings for menstruation and omega heats 🤩 (also jade thinks his partner got SAed so HUGE TW). I personally think that TWST doesn't have periods. Mostly because I read Period Drama series by twstfanblog and was like "Yeah sure I'll integrate that into my belief system". So Yuus under a lot of stress right? Especially those first few months and overblots, so I think it's safe to say that an AFAB Yuus cycle would probably skip over those few months or even a year until everything calms down. And then boom! Ovulation! Jade thinks it's a preheat or a heat and is trying SO HARD to be respectful because they did not talk about this before hand and he doesn't know if he's aloud to "help" them the way he's wants to. Doesn't exactly help that Yuus throwing themself at him every step of the way and asking shit like "Hey if we have kids what would you name them :D?". Yuu is killing him. All in all though, it's a pretty subdue heat, they're not confined to their nest (a messy pile of pillows, blankets, and cushions that they impulsively made in Ramshackle one day) or anything, they can go to class and move around just fine (he doesn't let them though. He doesn't need any perverts possibly getting off or fantasizing about something only he should be fantasizing about), and unfortunately, they're not keeping him in their nest and letting him breed them until they forget their own name, so it all worked out just fine. And then about a week later, he goes to Sam's first thing in the morning to buy more snacks and comes back to the strong scent of his loves blood, only to find out that blood was coming from "the void" and they're curled up in pain, and crying. Yeah that was the worst moment of Jades life, actually. 0/10. Would not recommend. He almost killed several people that day 👍

Nests. Yuu doesn't know what the hell a "nest" is or why Jade freaked out so hard with joy when they made their shitty little pillow fort but hey! At least he's happy! Look at him! Just vibrating with joy! While he's sitting just outside the fort and is just... staring at them..... Is he not gonna come in? So now their scooching over and awkwardly patting the spot next to them- and Jades eyes just dilated SO HARD ok

Ruts and knots. The Fun Shit. Jade asked (very flusteredly) if Yuu would be willing to help him through his upcoming rut and Yuus like 🧍👍🧎. And it's a lot more intense than they were expecting. Bro is looking a half step away from feral as he carries Yuu over to the "nest" and just let's go fully shortly after they start. And Yuu is throughly enjoying it but also- isn't this a little much?!It's just a week of a bad Coleen Hoover novel where all they do is have sex and sleep! They ain't built for this! Honestly, they're just a doll for him at this point because there is not a THOUGHT behind those eyes expect for Jade and his dick and they ain't even mad about it!

That last section wasn't a question I was just thirsty. Damn this ask got long as hell shit.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH bless you. My lifespan... my strength... it is returning 2 me.

I think a lot of this could be cleared up with some communication, but at the same time poor Yuu wouldn't know what they were supposed to be communicating.

If scents are reflective of emotion and how people communicate, I would think they reflect people's personalities in the same way facial expressions do? So a particularly stoic person (like say Silver) would have a much more muted scent when he's happy than someone who is much more expressive (like Kalim.) Of the people who would be most distressed by Yuu's lack of scent, I think it would actually be Riddle since I could see him thinking it is a medical issue they need to get checked out ASAP. It would certainly isolate them from their peers even more than not being a mage would, making them a real alien as far as most people in Twisted Wonderland would be concerned.

Now. Jade. My beloved. I think after he manages to successfully court Yuu he would be very smug about this because he would be maybe one of the only people in Twisted Wonderland able to pick up on Yuu's unique body language. But that's in the future, now he's struggling because on top of no scent there's no purrs D:< He's fantasized about what it would sound like sosososososo many times and he is worryingly close to realizing that he's not above begging. He just wants some praise from his chosen mate... please...

lmao about the growling I just would not be able to take that seriously and probably make some dumb comment that would get my ass beat. But if it was really loud that would stress me out.

... oh poor Jade. In my head I am thinking of Yuu maybe having been told by a (concerned) adeuce that Jade is attempting to court them so they start trying to reciprocate (which does not help anyone's concerns) but they haven't really talked about what exactly that means yet. So by the time Yuu starts ovulating they're still in what Yuu might consider to be a "talking" phase? Because Jade hasn't asked to make things official? Whereas Jade is simultaneously on cloud nine planning the wedding and in the depths of despair wondering how best to continue his courtship efforts because oh he wants to help you with your heat so badly :c he's in a permanent state of horny grip the entire week and so tense. Yuu wonders if it would be too much to offer to help him relax since they aren't all that close yet so they figure they'll ask him some questions to see how he reacts and all that and he is extremely receptive but he still doesn't make a move, even if he does insist on talking to them around the pillow fort a lot?

Speaking of the pillow fort... I'm just picturing Jade sitting so pretty and heavy breathing while Yuu is sat there very confused because he is buzzing with excitement but they can't tell what kind. Man relationships are real hard so is jade when you add in alien biology and customs to them please let him help you hope you aren't doing something wrong? you could never please please please just one chance Yuu one chaaaaance

The period stuff... I don't think my mind would jump to SA but certainly some sort of attack and Jade being Jade, he would not let that stand. Thankfully no one actually gets hurt since Jade asks Yuu for names and they have a very strange conversation about reproductive biology. Oh so you are bleeding because you aren't pregnant? Well that sounds like such an easy fix~ And is probably when you finally have that talk about how horny he was all last week because he asks, very earnestly asks to help you through your next "heat" so you don't have to endure this pain again.

Since you were being thirsty allow me to share some of my... thoughts (￣▽￣||)

I feel like Jade would want to take Yuu in his merform at some point if not first because he wants them to think about it. He wants to ruin them for anyone who is not very specifically him and he is not shy about it, but alas the omega decides where to build the nest and you chose "poorly." Yuu is getting their guts rearranged while Jade bullies them about their poor nest building skills. It's ok, he just finds you so cute maybe he'll walk you through it next time? Sure he's never had to build a nest, never felt the need but he's sure if you follow his instructions nice and slowly you'll do just fine.

You wind up in Ramshackle's tub more than once. Just don't complain about not being able to remember most of it because he'll just take that as you wanting a redo. Say less, he's been good for too long anyway *smack*

#mdni #twst smut #n/sfw #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #a/b/o dynamics #jade leech x reader #jade leech x yuu #jadeyuu #<3 asks #tw sa mention

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tocomplainfriend · 6 days

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Oh no

TW - racism and Slavery, power dynamics

really meh. IDK why they went mecha with the cherubs. The energy of the fight and how much it lasted was really lacking. I'm annoyed still by the "GUYS STOLAS IS SO SAAAAAD" bullshit. Why is the thumbnail so bad? I thought it was fake.

There is not an understanding of classism or power dynamics or anything.

Blitz was right, Stolas is a privileged asshole that constantly reduced their relationship into something sexual and belittled blitz, in remarks of him as a lower / IMP. Stolas did a scenario where Blitz job depended on them having sex. The series is creating a scenario where Blitz needs to love Stolas back because Stolas is so UWU sad baby that 'loves' him.

The main reason i hated the re-write of Stolas and blitz meeting-is because is exactly this: (something I've been aware of for a while.)

This exact situation of white slave owners making the kids of their slaves play with their white kids (I originally got introduced to this idea for a long form criticism of the Princess and the frog Story from Disney). IDK why would you make a scenario where there is inequality to the imps and how they suffer racism- if you just want Stolas to be in the right and Blitz in the wrong

I do not care if Stolas is sad and his life (even tho better because he is rich and has a literal book that gives him powers, vs being an IMP that could die, suffer from property and any possible scenario they are exposed to- or be a slave servant to the richer people because they were born imps.) he doesn't get to freed from all his wrong doings. No matter how depressed he is, his power is still higher and over Blitz. And creating a terrible scenario for blitz or any Imp for that matter.

They are really going for the plot line of But Stolas is a good rich privileged person.

Also, a scenario where the discriminated x privileged... There is the direct connection to the "what about everyone else".

If a non discriminated against person with big power is not bigoted to the person, the one they fell in love with. Does only that one discriminated person get saved from their social situation? Does everybody else still suffers because they don't happen to be the one. But what if the privileged person still discriminates against those people, but not their "special one".

Also... if you get a scenario as the discriminated one where you get to be saved from your situation, that's fucked. This person loves you if you say yes to them then you don't have to deal with being poor and as oppressed by the system but only you! Your entire group of people lives in the same conditions as you... If you say no, then you'll go back to being oppressed. This person on power hold power over you still. How much can you wight in with your own problems and boundaries, if the other one can throw you away into your old way of living. Can you leave the relationship? If you leave, you can get all the things you did with the privileged person cause maybe they don't hate you for being from a certain minority group, but the system over all hasn't changed. Can your group of people only get better life conditions by loving the pre-existing group in power? Those that person even like you, or do they like the power they hold onto you? Or maybe they like your race for your race more than you as a person.

Just a thing in the writing of this kind of story.

Also, character can have flaws, but they need to be recognized as flaws in writing.

Stolas are constantly victimizing himself (just like any sad privileged asshole would). He can't take the fact that if blitz is angry at him is for a reason, because he doesn't see his treatment of his as a bad thing. Cause in Stoals pov he enjoyed having power over blitz and calling him an IMP and forcing his romanticized view of the situation on to him- But Blitz was pulling a fast one to get money, This rich guy who he got gifted to as a slave playmate now is holding his job over his head in exchanged for sex, the same guy constantly does sexual advances towards him even when he explicitly says he doesn't want that (remember all of Loo loo land episode?), he gets call plenty of imp based "petnames" (“My impish little play-thing”) from a guy that can literary buy imps as slaves any day, suddenly he has to reciprocate his romantic feelings because he is sad, and apparently he wanted something more even thought he made it entirely empty and sexual all this time.

Stolas fake apologized, got fairly screamed at and victimized himself.

And apparently calling him out is bad for Blitz to do? Victim blaming.

I think by the last episode, they are going to kick Stolas out of the castle, technically putting him in a similar social position to imps with nowhere to go. Even if it doesn't magically work that way. -and Stolas is going to be "more sad and more in the right, so Blitz has no ground to complain now, right!?" ...

The way all of this episode and series is written tries so hard to delete any negative feeling against systemic problems, classism related issues, etc. if it's against a character the series wants you to like. If it's Stolas then he did nothing wrong, the power dynamic doesn't exist... if it is Mammon then he is a terrible person holding his power over others' capitalism sucks... oh but not Stolas tho! If it is Ozzi there is no power dynamic over a disabled imp, constant searching for appreciation from someone he fells is above him (like he tried to get with Mammon, because Ozzie is a good highly privileged person. No bad things to look out for! Fuck capitalism, but I'm one of the good rich people, no criticism is possible!

All that bad stuff could that people in my position of power is awful! But I would, could never do that! Because I'm a good one! Hmm

If you don't see the problem here, you may be a problem or may be justifying something terrible.

Also, funny enough about the short of Millie and Sally... I can't believe you only get content of a female character AND MILLIE IN SPECIFIC in extra side content that Viv didn't even care enough to write herself... and also the short gave me nothing new about her, I got more for Sally (and finally something normal! More than a line and she gets to have a character).

I hope there is a better episode for her.

#vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #vivziepop critique #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #vivziepop criticism #hazbin hotel critique #helluva boss critique #hazbin hotel criticism #anti vivziepop #tw racism #tw slavery

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blossomthepinkbunny · 3 months

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Poor rendition of queer characters in HH and HB

Here I am again talking about queer representation in Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss, this time just more generally. Because it's always a little weird to me when people claim HH/HB to have good queer representation, when in actuality most of the queer characters are either just blatant stereotypes or get mishandled somehow. And with Helluva Boss recently winning the Queertys - Web series reward I think that this is probably a pretty good time to acknowledge that kind of stuff (as people have done before).

TW: Sexual assault, R@pe (when referring to the actions of characters)

Blitzø (Pansexual): is very sexual and seen on screen multiple times either having sex or just having had sex. Pretty much fits the general stereotype of queer men always being sexual and also the stereotype of pansexuals just sleeping with everybody. Like, he literally screwed the mutual Ex of his coworkers even though he knew how much that guy hurt them.

Stolas (Gay): also mostly sexual (from how he was introduced) and he is in a pretty terrible "relationship" with Blitzø, which includes coercion, SA, Power dynamics and fetishization. Another very sex-driven queer man. Also just great proof for the people assuming that queer relationships are inherently predatory, unhealthy and never work out.

Moxxie (Bisexual): is often forced into a very feminine role because even in relationships with women, queer men always have to be pointed out to be feminine and putting a guy in a dress is funny I guess.

Fizzarolli & Asmodeus (Queer): they're actually better than a lot of the other characters here but there is still some of that uneven power dynamic going on with them and there are obvious issues with their relationship. Overall they aren't too bad though. They didn't get that much sexual focus and what they got is kinda warranted since Ozzie is the Lust demon. But there is that one scene with Fizz stepping out of his car with Dildo confetti canons (I think) and that was sorta weird, since in an episode before that they presented Crimson as being homophobic and stereotypical for assuming queer men are all obsessed with dicks. Which is just interesting because thats most of the queer men in Vivzepops stories.

Chaz (Queer): just a sexually abusive asshole because we definitely needed more predatory queer men in this show.

Sally May (Trans mtf): basically the single recognized trans character in both shows and she only had one line. After that they made fan merch for her which consisted of her in a bikini with her bulge being drawn pretty visibly (multiple times). Of course there's nothing wrong with Trans people who don't have surgery but it's just a tiny bit weird to me that fanservice merchandise is what she got reduced to, when something like that wasn't even the joke of the only line she had in the show and because she hasn't recieved any kind of focus after that.

Angel Dust (Gay): now there is a lot of stuff that could be said about Angel. On one hand he is another very sexual gay man whose screentime often just consists of sex jokes and references. On the other hand that's a big point for his character. How he tries to act confident in his sexuality when in reality it's the main source of his problems. Though he does often harass other men in the show and that's just so unnecessary. Talking about Angel mostly leads into discussing if he is good representation for SA victims or not, which is something I don't want to talk about that much because I feel like it's not my place to judge that as someone who never has experienced SA. I'm gonna say that I do find Viv's treatment of him outside of the show insensitive (with the pro-shipping, diminishing Valentino as an Abuser and general sexualization of the characters) but as far as the portrayal of him in the show goes I've heard different opinions and you should read the discussion's of actual r@pe survivors about this topic if you want to know about more about it.

Husk (Queer): I don't have anything to say about Husk. He is a very refreshing queer man in these show's and there is nothing bad about him I could think of right now.

Valentino (Queer): for him I mostly want to talk about how he is treated outside of the show which doesn't sit right with me. He is a villian in HH so it's understandable that he is gonna do effed up stuff. I also like that the show tries to make a point about how men get sexually assaulted too (wether they succeeded in that inside the show I'm not gonna judge too hard like I said). But there are a lot of people who not only sexualize him, but also his actions and his relationship to Angel and from what I know Viv never really spoke out against that. She actually interacts with people who do that stuff and I it's just kinda gross.

Vox (Queer): I also don't have a lot to say about him. He and Val are a couple so he is dating a r@pist but he is also a villain so you can't really expect more from him. Especially since he would still be interacting with a r@pist even if they weren't dating.

Alastor (Aromantic, Asexual): is obviously not interested in relationships or sex but his identity is pretty much ignored by a huge amount of the fandom. Vivzepop never say's anything about people blatantly invalidating him like that. It seems to me like she doesn't care about characters who can't be involved in shipping but still wanted to have more diversity in her show so she just called him AroAce. In Hazbin Hotel he isn't bad representation though. His sexuality is never the focus but thats fine, it's mostly just the treatment he gets outside of HH which I don't like.

Charlie (Bisexual): doesn't have a lot to her sexuality. This is something I talked about pretty lengthy in my other post, specifically about the lack of Sapphic content in both shows, so I won't go into too much detail here. Her relationship with Vaggie would probably be the best in both shows if it wasn't for the fact that they both never get the real spotlight as a couple. And there is that thing in Vivzepops stories where the women are pretty much sexless without men and that's obviously something that is generally an issue when talking about the lack of Sapphic representation (which is also a topic heavily tied to sexism). Charlie's portrayal isn't necessarily stereotypical but that's just because there is nothing to her identity in the show.

Vaggie (Lesbian): like I said I already talked about the Chaggie relationship so now I wanna focus on something I didn't even mention in that post. Her name literally being Vagina and that's apparently funny because she is a Lesbian so she obviously likes Vagina. That's just incredibly stereotypical and also excludes Trans Lesbians and Asexual Lesbians who don't want sex. The whole joke was that Adam named her that because he is obsessed with sex and he's a jerk. But her name was always Vagina even in the pilot (from what I know Adam wasn't conceived then and neither was the idea that Vaggie even is a former exterminator).

That's all the queer characters I could think of. I hope I didn't miss any.

I thought about including Millie here too. But she was also already included in my other discussion post and I still don't know if she is canonically Bisexual of if that is just a headcannon so I didn't put her here.

I'm just gonna say that i don't have a problem with queer men being sexual (or any queer person in that regard). But it's pretty much every one of her queer male characters. This is especially bad when a lot of the relationships are toxic as well.

I just think too many characters fit stereotypes and to me that isn't good queer representation. If you like the depiction of queer characters in HH or HB that's good for you and you don't have to agree with me. But you also can't really deny a lot of this stuff and you can't expect others to just be fine with bland, hurtful and sometimes even toxic representation like there is in these shows.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel criticism #vivzepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel critique #vivziepop #helluva boss #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #queer representation #queer rep in media

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smok3r7 · 6 months

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Latching On To You Master List

Joel Miller x F!reader

Explicit, 18+

Main Masterlist & My Ao3

Series summary: What happens when, after thirteen loving years of being with Joel, you start to feel like he’s slipping away from your grasp? How much of yourself will you lose because of the trauma your father put you through at such a young age? You could be wrong about Joel, but something is telling you otherwise - or are you just not healed enough to see past your own insecurities?

Warnings: age difference in the beginning (15/20) NOTHING SEXUAL UNTIL READER IS OVER 22 & JOEL IS 27!! No use of y/n, no outbreak AU, no Sarah AU, smoking weed and drinking, chapter three has cocaine use and TW SA (NOT JOEL), abandonment issues, trauma from father w/ alcoholism, HEAVY ANGST, daddy kink (minimal), unprotected P in V, fingering, stroking him, choking, mutual pinning, accusations of cheating, happy ending

————————————

Chapter One: History Lesson

Chapter Two: History Repeats Itself

Chapter Three: Devil’s River

Chapter Four: Picking Up The Pieces

Chapter Five: Starting Over

Hi babes, Thank you to everyone who is giving my story a chance, this is my first series in 5+ years. I may be a little rusty but I will continue to grow🥰

#joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller series #latching on to you #5 part series #not all chapters have smut #trauma dump story #sensitive content #joel miller au #joel and reader #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #tlou joel #joel the last of us #joel tlou

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madreemeritus · 2 months

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A small analysis of Angel Dust's character (tw: SA, abusive relantionships, drug addiction, coping mechanism, also spoilers of the series)

Today is Angel Dust's birthday, he's my favorite Hazbin Hotel character and became one of my fave characters ever recently, he's being my new brainrot so I decided to write about his amazing character. Oh and English isn't my first language so forgive me for any mistake.

Ok now the first thing needed is to recognize Angel's (Anthony) situation. Anthony was born in the 1910s and died in 1947, with 30 years old, he was the son of a mafia leader and a homosexual man that needed to hide and opress his own sexuality, or else he'd be, at best, killed (if not worse). When he arrived Hell, he found to himself a taste of freedom that he could never experience in his life. I'm not sure about how many years he's been in the Val situation because Valentino died in the 1970s, but either way, he signed a soul contract with Valentino and now his soul belongs to him. The worst thing about his situation is that he was much probably in love with Val and was manipulated by him to sign the contract, it's really heartbreaking to think about it.

Although we don't know the exact circumstances that lead Angel to sign the contract (if he knew or not knew he was getting into porn, if Val lied to him, etc), we do know that he didn't expect to have the life he has at the moment. Angel is, in simple words, a sexual slave. Valentino abuses him mentally, physically, emotionally and mainly, sexually. He forces Angel to do uncomfortable, painful things in the studio, perform extra hours without any human condition or even a raise, and also demands sex and affection from him. Angel can't say no, he is coerced and afraid to go against Valentino's wishes. Valentino also uses a disturbing form of emotional abuse, lovebombing Angel after assaulting and abusing him, all to remain his control over Angel. Val tries to isolate Angel from everyone else and bursts in anger once Angel moves to the hotel, after all their deal says Val can do whatever he wants with Angel in the studio, outside of the studio, though, Angel is free. This is one of the reasons why he is desperate to keep Angel around. Which also indicates Val abuses him financially, if most (if not all) the money Angel earsn with HIS work goes to VAL, then Angel is even more vulnerable, powerless and dependent on his abuser. It explains why Angel agreed to live in the Hotel in the first place: he'd have a free room, away from Val, with the MINIMAL of privacy and safety.

Angel Dust, with this amount of abuse and trauma, obviously run into coping mechanism. Even if it's self destructive. Angel is addicted to drugs (his artistic name explains itself), apparently alcohol too, and most important, he masks his own feelings. He acts as Angel Dust, the perfect, unbothered pornstar that is not weak or vulnerable in any situation. Angel Dust is always confident, strong, wanted, and constantly does the only thing he was taught he was of: flirting. He agressively flirts with every men, he offers his own body to almost every men he sees, because if he surrender himself first, then he won't be hurted or coerced... right? Angel Dust hides his true feelings and pretends to not care about anything and anyone but himself. Angel is, most of the times, rude, and don't respect other people's boundaries (after all his own boundaries aren't respected).

Because, if Angel acts this way, he won't be harmed, he won't be hurted, he won't be abandoned. If he is emotionally distant from everyone, once they abandone him, it won't be so painful... right?

Anthony hides his true self as a cope mechanism. And he knows he isn't perfect. He isn't a perfect victim, he has flaws, he does wrong things and make people uncomfortable (specially Husk, the only man that rejects his flirting, which I will talk about later), and mainly, he blames himself for being abused. And this is why he is so afraid to be real and vulnerable, even next to his friends. He thinks he won't be accepted or treated with respect. He spent so many years being told that he is only worth for sex, that he ended up believing this is the true. He spent so many years being treated as a sexual object, that he began to think he really is. He spent so many years being abused, isolated and manipulated, that he is afraid of opening up. He spent so many years being blamed for other people's actions (mainly Valentino), that he believes it's all his fault.

You may argue that he is honest and vulnerable with Cherri Bomb, but that's the point: Cherri is in a similar situation, she had a traumatic experience in the past and has similar self-destructive behaviour. She is a good friend, she sees him as he is and understands him for personal experience. As for Charlie... well, don't get me wrong. I LOVE Charlie. She IS a good person, a good friend and clearly cares about her people more than anything in the world. She wants to help and save people, Angel being one of them. She nearly beated Valentino's ass for seeing him abusing Angel. BUT. Let's be honest: as a very privileged person (princess of hell) among wretched mortal souls, she has no social awareness. I mean, come on. She wrote an anti-drug, pro post-marrital sex play where she casted Angel (a drug addict and a non-married sex worker) as the "crackhead bad guy", and praised only Sir Pentious for doing exactly the same thing Angel did. She wants to help, but she doesn't know how. Angel doesn't feel safe enough to open up. Anyone in the Hotel appeared to be safe and trustworthy, Anthony/Angel was afraid of being judged. He is a victim of SA, gruesome things were done to his body without his consent and he is ashamed of it. His hypersexualization is a way to escape his shame (hypersexualization IS A REAL AND VALID COPING MECHANISM IN REAL LIFE).

It's only in his most vulnerable moment, when he is caught by surprise, that his real feelings appear. When Charlie invades Valentino's studio — putting, in Anthony's eyes, her safety in danger —, the real Anthony tries to protect her from Val. He knows how shitty Val is. A coward, evil, gruesome abuser that has desires to control everyone and everything, even the Princess of Hell herself. We all know Charlie is much more powerful and could easily beat Valentino's ass, but Anthony doesn't care about. He probably doesn't even think too much about it, he just wishes to protect his friend. This is one of the most beautiful character aspects that Anthony has: he cares for his friends, MORE than he fears Val.

For Anthony, it's easier to surrender his body and will to Valentino, anything to calm his whiny ass down and make things less painful. But when it comes to his friends... it's so, so much difficult. He pleads Val to not hurt Charlie. Later in E6-S1, he stands up against Valentino to protect Nifty. Angel pretends to be unbothered and relaxed most of the times in the Hotel, he acts like if he doesn't care, but he DOES. He cares for his friends more than he cares for himself. He puts his friends in the first place. For him, it can seem like nothing important, but it actually tells how caring and kind he actually is. He is protective. He doesn't want ANYONE to experience the same abuse he experiences. Every. Fucking. Day.

Angel's arc, in the first season, is realizing that there ARE people who love him and care for him, DESPITE HIS FLAWS. He is not an object, he is not a worthless sinner, he is a victim, he is a person, he is a FRIEND. Once he realizes that, he starts to be kind to himself, make better choices, set boundaries to himself and respecting other people's people boundaries. And speaking about boundaries...

Huskerdust is simply, aaah holy shit what a perfect dynamic, what a perfect shipp (and when I mean Huskerdust, I mean ONLY the romantic shipp).

Husk really got into Angel's nerves, because he was the only man who rejected his flirts. He didn't only rejected, he pushed Angel away many times and openly said that he could see that Angel was faking. To someone trying to hide his own feelings, afraid of being judged and ashamed of the consequences of his trauma, that probably hurted a lot. Angel was taught that his only worth is based on his physical beauty and if he is sexually desired. Seeing someone, not only rejecting his offers, but also seeing throught the act he puts on, must have terrified and hurted Angel in a way he never expected to feel. He wasn't upset because "Husk rejected him", he was feeling humiliated and confused because, for the first time in years, someone wanted to meet the real Anthony. Angel was gaslighted to think that he is only worth for sex, for being used.

So. "What do you mean Husk doesn't want to use me? He must hate me and I'm worthless!". It's obvious that he would have this reaction. During his breakdown after Husk called him "fake", he is saying those words to himself. He is reaffirming what he was told he was worth for: for being used. People would kill to have Angel in their beds, people would kill to afford Angel's services, people would kill to use Angel. "— Do you know how much I'm worth?" in fact, Angel himself doesn't know how much he is worth.

Husk was the person Angel NEEDED. He may have been harsh on him in some occasions, but Husk CARES for Angel. He is grumpy and won't say it out loud, but he does care. He protects Angel from being drugged and abused in a bar even after their argument. He offers to listen, he relates to Angel's situation and doesn't judge him. Angel NEEDED to have the reality shock throught Husk's words: no one cares if he's hot, famous, if he's a whore, if he has flaws, literally no one cares. His friends love him the way he IS. Husk wanted Angel to be truthful, that's all. Husk never forced any physical contact, in fact, he offers his hand first and waits until Angel accepts it — besides, his physical affection isn't based on sex or violence. Notice how Husk never actually said Angel's work is garbage or that he is a bad actor, because this would be a lie. Husk says the material that is given to Angel is garbage. After all, Angel's movies are written and directed by Valentino (if i'm not mistaken, one of his asshole clients Travis also help Val with the script), of course it's garbage. Husk sees that the situation Angel is in, is garbage. Is horrible. Angel felt offended at first because, again, he thought his worth was based on Val's bullshit, but NO. Angel, Anthony, is not Val's bullshit, he is absolutely different.

Husk sees him as a real person. After Angel overstepped boundaries many times, Husk could easily tell him to fuck off, let him be drugged and raped without giving a damn, mocking his trauma, which would be a total asshole attitude but no. Husk, even being mad at Angel, listens to him with an opened heart. This is what Angel needed. He needs love and affection from someone that sees him as he is, and this person is Husk. Their bonding is so sweet in the next episodes, and I'm really excited to see how their slow-burn is going to happen in next seasons.

"Loser, Baby" is such an amazing song, it's so cute and adorable and it's exactly the type of comfort that Angel needed. Husk is also on a leash. He sold his soul to Alastor, he is constantly mistreated and forced to do things he doesn't want to do by this powerful overlord, and if Husk says no, he might lose his life. He knows exactly how Angel is feeling. He doesn't have a solution for their problems, he can't do anything against neither Valentino nor Alastor, but what he can do is helping Angel. Comforting him, listening to him and offering him companion. Angel is living a horrible situation, but he ISN'T ALONE. Yes, Angel is a cocked-up dick sucking hoe, and IT'S OKAY.

Now listen: "Addict" is Angel's song that denies his suffering. He pretends to "don't give a damn" and to be fine with the life he's living. "Poison" is the realization that he needs help, he is being abused and is slowly destroying himself with his addictions. He aknowledges his suffering, but he is still hopeless. "Loser, Baby" is Angel letting hope in. He knows he's, well, a loser, a broken person that lives a terrible, suffered life, but he is NOT alone. He is loved, despite his flaws, because his friends aknowledge his qualities and worth, him as a person. Anthony, not Angel Dust.

What an amazingly well-written character, fuck my life. I love him so much 😭

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #angel dust #happy birthday angel dust #hazbin hotel anthony #huskerdust #hazbin hotel valentino

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staydandy · 2 months

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Evil Minds (2015) - 心理罪 - Whump List

List by StayDandy Synopsis : Fang Mu is a genius criminal profiler who successfully cracks a case after describing the past, present and future of a suspect yet he comes out of it damaged, broken and unable to continue his work. However, a series of murder case comes back to haunt him and he is forced to confront his past. (MDL) AKA : Evil Minds Season 1 | Psychological Crime | Criminal Minds | Profiler

Whumpee : Fang Mu played by Chen Ruo Xuan (right) • Tai Wei played by Wang Long Zheng (left)

Country : 🇨🇳 China Genres : Thriller, Mystery, Psychological, Crime, Bromance, Drama

Notes : This is a Full Whump List • TW : SA, Suicide

Related List : Evil Minds 2 (2016) - partial list

Episodes on List : 16 Total Episodes : 24

*Spoilers below*

01 : TW:SA

02 : (at end) Fang Mu jumps out of a moving car

03 : … continued from previous ep. ... Bandaged up at hospital … removes his own IV … nauseous at a crime scene, retching … ptsd triggered hallucination

04 : (near end) Hallucination

05 : Tai Wei hand cut stopping blade … (at end) Fang Mu hallucinating

06 : … continued from previous ep. ... Attacked; strangled, fight, hallucinating … nightmare

08 : [flashback] Nauseous at a crime scene

12 : [flashback] Punched … attacked

13 : [flashback] Fight; strangled.. Fang Mu & Tai Wei jump out a 2nd story window to escape an explosion

15 : Tai Wei has nightmare

16 : (at end) Nightmare

17 : TW:Suicide

19 : Nightmare … Fang Mu hallucinating … handcuffed

20 : … continued from previous ep. ... Arrested, mumbling/psychotic break, interrogated, revealed he's been hallucinating his long-dead girlfriend from the beginning, hallucinating again

21 : Tai Wei drunk … Fang Mu hallucinating … still handcuffed, jumps out a 2nd story window, bumped into by a car

22 : Tai Wei unconscious, tied to a chair, head bleeding.. tortured (teeth forcefully pulled)

23 : … continued from previous ep. ... Rescued (a lot of exposition in this ep)

24.. Fang Mu forced to recall a traumatic repressed memory, collapses … Tai Wei shot … Fang Mu in shock, unresponsive, hallucinating

#whump #whump list #full whump list #Asian whump #China #Evil Minds #心理罪 #Evil Minds Season 1 #Psychological Crime #Criminal Minds #Profiler #Fang Mu #Tai Wei #Chen Ruo Xuan #Wang Long Zheng

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babybluebex · 10 months

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I LOVE your ‘you still remain’ emmet mini series it’s sooooooo good! Don’t know if you’re taking requests but what would happen if on the journey to the island they are attacked by a rogue group and maybe emmett has to save y/n from some near SA ??? Emmett just has such “don’t touch her” protective vibes!!

yes i can! sorry this took so long to write and that it's so short, i hope you like it anyway! tw for attempted sexual assualt (and a little unwanted touching), gun violence

Your steps were quiet on the creaky deck, stepping slowly and carefully. You tried to avoid splinters in your bare feet as you walked, and you looked over your shoulder to ensure that Emmett was still behind you. He sure was, stepping just as carefully as you were, on high alert for monsters, his rifle shouldered easily, as if an extension of his body. He looked hardened and rogue-ish, the apocalypse having aged him and steadied his nerves. It did that to everyone, even you— before that day, you were young, working at the same mechanic's shop that Emmett did. You only worked the front desk while he actually did work on the cars, but you were familiar enough with each other that, after the aliens came down, he took you into his family unit and protected you. And then, after Norah... Your own family had been eliminated on the first day, along with Henry and Adam, and you and Emmett were all that either of you had left.

Suddenly, there was an extra-loud creak from one of the boats anchored at the dock, and your heart seized as Emmett easily trained his rifle at the boat. You stopped your creeping forward, tensed as you awaited the clicking that meant that a monster was imminent, but something far worse awaited you. You froze fully as a man came from the shadows of the boat, and you clocked the dagger he held the instant you saw him. Fear nearly killed you— humans in this world were worse than the monsters— and you took a hazardous step backwards, towards Emmett.

"Hey," Emmett whispered gruffly, trying to stay quiet enough to not bring any monsters to you. "We don't want no trouble."

"I don't either," the man whispered. "What's in your bags?"

"We have food," you said quickly, before Emmett could say anything. You did have food, sure, though not a lot, but surely at least a granola bar would keep the guy from using that dagger on either of you. You slowly began to pull off your backpack in search of said granola bar, but the man waved his knife dismissively.

"Don't want any of that," the man murmured.

"What do you want?" Emmett asked lowly, and the man stepped off the boat and onto the dock, coming too close for comfort. You stepped backwards again, closer to Emmett, and the man quickly lunged before you were sure what had happened. He grabbed you, surprising you and making you drop your bag with a thud, and you kept in your instinctual scream of fear as you felt the cold glint of the knife touch your neck.

You had never seen Emmett look so startled, and he trained the rifle on the man at your side, trying to control his shaking hands. You breathed heavily, trying not to whimper and cry, although tears of fear welled in your eyes, and the man grumbled in your ear. "Pretty little thing," he said, his eyes trained on Emmett as he toyed with you. "Is this your husband?"

You shook your head, digging your fingernails hard into your palms.

"Boyfriend?" the man asked. "You ever fuck him?"

"Leave her alone," Emmett said harshly, maybe a little too loud. The lapping of the waves against the dock and boats and shore provided a little ambient noise that allowed you to speak at almost a normal level (what was normal anymore, though?), but his refusal to shout was harrowing.

"You wanna fuck her?" the man asked. "I bet you think about it, a tasty little thing like this... Can't even see this without thinkin' about what I wanna do."

"Em," you whimpered, finally allowing yourself to make noise. "Help."

Emmett's eyes watched as the knife trailed from your throat down your front, the curved point of it catching on your shirt and ripping it a bit. Your heart skipped a little as the man holding you hostage reached up and pawed at your breasts, feeling them and squeezing them, and you tilted your chin up as you tried to zone out. This wasn't happening. This was a dream. Just a bad dream, and you would wake up at any moment, safe in your little factory basement. Emmett would come to you and cover your mouth to keep you from crying too loud, and he would hold you and rock you until you quit, and everything would be okay.

"Don't you touch her," Emmett said, and the rifle rattled in his hands, shaking with anger. You knew his dilemma; the shot wasn't clear enough for him to take. You were too close to the man, any shot that Emmett took could easily be skewed into you. And you knew that Emmet wouldn't even attempt a shot if there was a chance that he could hurt you. "Get your fucking hands off of her."

"Or what?" the man asked. "I might just take her with me. You aren't using her; I will."

"Em!" you yelped. Panic filled you and you felt screams bubbling in your throat, and Emmett shushed you quickly.

Before you knew what was happening, the sound of the rifle being shot out echoed around the dockside, and the man slumped off of you for just long enough to allow you to fall from his arms and run back to Emmett. You heaved breaths as you collided with his warm body, and he dropped his gun to hold you tightly. You gasped and sobbed into his neck, whining and crying but trying to keep quiet enough to not attract a monster, and Emmett stroked your back. "It's okay, honey," he whispered. "I've got you, baby."

"Em," you whimpered. "Is he dead?"

"Yeah, honey, he's dead," Emmett whispered. "Don't look at him, you don't wanna see it. I've got you, honey, you're safe."

"I-I'm sorry—" you started, but Emmett interrupted you.

"Sorry for what?" he asked. "Some random creep attacked you, you shouldn't be sorry about that. I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you good enough to keep him off of you."

"Y-You did everything you could," you whispered. "Fuck, Emmett..."

"I'm right here, honey," he whispered. "But we gotta move quick, something definitely heard that gunshot."

#yeah def writing more of this #bex answers #the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf #emmett a quiet place #emmett a quiet place x reader #emmett aqp #emmett aqp x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader

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gabrielsbubblegumbitch · 2 months

Note

do you have any opinions on the hazbin critical and vivziepop critical tags?

tw // mentions of sexual abuse and sucide

I have a personal beef with them. And not because I love Hazbin and Vivzie so much but for more presonal reasons so the following opinion won't be measured at all.

Now, don't get me wrong, there are some legit criticisms out there. Like, the show could definitely do better with body diversity and giving us more varied sapphic relationships instead of just throwing a ton of male/male couples at us. And, yeah, Vivzie's response to some of the criticism has been... questionable. (I still cringe when I think about that one time she explained that Raphielle can ship ValAngel because they are sa survivor, but Raphielle explicitly admitted to not be one).

But then, there's stuff that's just... pulled out of nowhere. Like the whole thing about Valentino being a "fetish character." Come on, the world of villains is filled with queer, flamboyant baddies. What sets Valentino apart is how his abusive behavior is shown in the open, making us rethink our love for villains. If it weren't for Mascarade, people would worship this moth daddy gangster in a dress, much like they are with Vox now. It's hard to root for the bad guy when you see the fallout of their actions. Like, Loki committed war crimes and no one was outraged when he got his own TV series and dragged creators for supporting atrocities.

Constant Valentino/Angel Dust discourse actually leads to the more serious issues I have with this "community", more harmful than just "bad media literacy" like the way they handle the topic of sexual abuse and weaponize it, without ever listening to victims. There is this constant shitstorm about Angel being a "bad sa survivor rep," that the way he's written is insensitive because "he shouldn't be horny, he's sexually traumatized." Like, do these people not understand that making Angel unable to enjoy his sexuality the way he wants would essentially mean acknowledging that it's no longer his but belongs to his abuser now? Also, the argument I keep seeing that drives me BAT SHIT CRAZY aka "I can enjoy this media that is centered around murderer, you cannot enjoy the media that treats rapist as a nuanced character because rape is objectively worse than murder." WHO THE FUCK TOLD YOU THAT? Reading this makes me feel so angry and sad and guilty because frankly, I was raped, and of course, it was horrible but still I'd choose it any time over being murdered. Because I have my life, I'm loved, and I love, I pursue my dreams, and I can still experience so many good things in my life. Painting sexual assault as this worse-than-death experience is not the feminist take they think it is and does not do victims any good.

Or accusations that Vivzie's support of fandom bullying led to someone taking their life. It's such a ridiculous and harmful claim. Honestly, this thing always makes me heated because suicide is not an easy decision, ask any person who ever faced it. It's not like "ah, this stranger told me to kms, I guess I gotta do it now." Of course, any kind of bullying and abuse adds to the suffering and can be the final trigger, but to me, it's just so disrespectful and harmful that someone could have experienced prolonged, intense suffering and all of this is omitted, their death labeled as a result of "fandom bullying" and weaponized in fandom drama. Also, it's simply cruel to put the blame for it on one, uninvolved person.

Also, it always annoys me when people hold small creators to immensely high standards while not doing the same with others. If we keep lynching and canceling every media that is not objectively morally pure, we won't be left with only perfect media. We will be left with media produced by white, privileged billionaires who might be real-life rapists, abusers, and thieves but are too powerful to be taken down by social media outrage. Hazbin's success is a major W for the underappreciated medium of animation (we saw what WB did to 90% of their animated shows), unpopular genres like musicals (Wonka creators were literally too ashamed to market it as one??), and unapologetic queer narratives that are not written for a heteronormative audience or centered around queer oppression (ofmd, the other medium I can think of in that realm has just been canceled). I can't stand people so desperate to put it down driven by their black-or-white sense of morality. Kant won't be patting your back for being the Moraliest Person because you bullied an indie creator and her fans.

Also everyone who feels the need to explain me hazbin critical agenda - save your breath. I'm very emotional about it and I frankly don't fucking care why you think you are right.

#hazbin hotel #ask #tw sui #tw sa #vivziepop

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lcahwriter · 2 years

Text

Running (Part 3)

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem!Reader (non-descriptive)

Word Count: 6.7k

TW: Swearing, Nightmares (death in nightmare), stalking, mentions of sex but no actual sex

Summary: You ran across the country to the place you knew you’d be the safest- with Maverick on a Navy base somewhere in California. Your plan was to lay low until the coast was clear - but then you met Bradley Bradshaw.

Will you be able to escape the man who was determined to find you? Will you be able to keep Bradley safe? To fall in love again?

READ PART ONE , PART TWO , PART FOUR

Authors Note: Thank you so much to everyone who has read this series. I appreciate all the love! I hope you like Part 3 as much as I do.

**********************************************

“What?”

You croaked. You stumbled back against the bar counter, your chest starting to fill with panic. Mav instantly is next to you, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“It’s going to be okay.” He said firmly. You looked up into his eyes and searched for the comfort you needed. But you didn’t find it – you could tell Maverick was just as fucking scared as you were.

A sob rippled up from your chest, awakening more sadness and panic in you. You leaned forward into Mavericks arms and rested your head on his shoulder.

“It’s going to be okay; I promise.” He repeated, rubbing behind your shoulders softly. You gripped him like your life depended on it.

What were you supposed to do? How could you protect yourself? How could Maverick even begin to help you?

You stayed silent; your brain was too muffled with emotion to speak.

“Let’s go back to the house, and we’ll talk about a plan.” He said softly. You nodded against him and took a small step back. You looked up to see Penny looking between you and Maverick with concerned eyes.

“I have some last-minute things I need to do here. You guys go.” She said, directing her statement to Maverick. Mav nodded and you looked up at him with tear filled eyes.

“Just stay close to me.” You looked down at Maverick’s side to see his hand hovering over a sleek black pistol holstered on his waist. Your eyes widened with surprise.

“Is that—” you started to ask but you already knew the answer.

“Just incase” is all he said before opening the bar door. You shakily nodded in agreement and walked behind him closely.

The parking lot was dark and quiet – the only sound was the distant waves and both your footsteps.

You sat in Maverick’s passenger seat. Jaw clamped together, body rigid and chest tight. The streets were empty, and the inside of the car was dark.

You kept glancing in the back seat because you couldn’t get rid of the paranoia you felt.

Images of Tim popping up behind you to strangle you had your mind teetering over the edge into a pure panic.

You jumped when you felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket. You pulled it out of your jeans and read the message.

Bradley 🐔: You done with work yet?

You clenched your phone, tears welled in your eyes. You flipped it over without responding.

How could you tell Bradley that Tim was in town? Tim was just an imaginary person in Bradley’s head. If he knew that Tim was in this city, looking for you now- you weren’t sure how he would react.

Any sane person would run the other way.

Your mind wandered back to Tim - back to his anger - his violence.

Tim would kill Bradley if he knew you kissed. He would kill him and then kill you- oh god you couldn’t let this happen.

“Please, you have to breathe!” Maverick’s shout broke you from your trance. He was driving, eyes on the road, but glancing to you worriedly. From the looks of it, he’d been trying to get your attention for a while.

You choked out a small sob and nodded your head emphatically.

“I’m sorry.” You said shakily, trying to take in deep breaths even though it caused your chest to burn.

“Do you think Tim knows about Bradley?” You tried to regulate your breathing, but the dread you felt had only been amplified.

“Now is not the time to think about Bradley’s safety.” Maverick glanced at you with serious eyes. “We need to think about yours.”

You shook your head. You knew he was right. Bradley was safe at training; you were the one that was unsafe.

“How could he have found me?”

That was the next logical thing you could think of to ask. Was this really happening?

“I’m not sure.” Maverick said with frustration.

“Maybe I should leave here, go to Canada or something.” You suggested. You were putting everyone around you in danger just by being with them. Maverick- the closest thing you had to a father was now in danger too.

“No, leaving is not an option. You’re going to stay on base with me until we find him.” Maverick’s jaw was set, and you could tell he was not changing his mind.

“He may be in California, but he is not allowed on this damn base.”

**********************************************************

You laid in your bed, surrounded by darkness and quiet. You had a cold layer of sweat all over your body, despite the air conditioner blasting over you.

How were you supposed to sleep? Knowing that Tim was out there – looking for you. Possibly plotting to kill you? Sleep was an impossible feat. And the worst part was the complete helplessness you felt.

The room lit up with a text from your phone. It’s buzzing made you jump.

Bradley : Did you make it home? Call me before you go to bed.

You stared at his message. He made you smile; he was a breath of fresh fucking air. You were suffocating without him. But how could you tell him something that would worry him? Or even worse- scare him away?

Before you could turn off your phone to ignore his text, which you had fully planned to do- his name popped up on your screen again.

He was calling you.

And how could you ignore him? You were so alone, so scared. And his voice was like a fucking drug. You swiped to answer it before you could stop yourself.

“Hey.” You said softly.

“Well hello there beautiful. How are you doing tonight?” His voice was so happy, so carefree. And the way he called you beautiful so effortlessly- like he fucking meant it. How could you feel so warm inside but so scared? You moved the speaker from your face to take a deep breath.

You pictured him out in the middle of the ocean with his chestnut hair blowing in the breeze. You tried to pretend you were with him, holding his hand.

“I’m great. You?” You lied through your teeth. Your voice wavered on that one making you wince.

“Good now that I’m finally getting to talk to my favorite girl.”

You smiled sadly, even with your chest being torn apart. You needed to say something - anything to him to be normal but you couldn’t fake it. It was all too much.

“Are you okay?” He asked through the phone - his voice was hesitant.

“Um” is all you could get out before you sucked in a harsh breath and a sniffle. It was so fucking obvious you were holding in tears. You were fucked.

“What’s wrong?” Bradley’s voice was more concerned now- which made you want to cry harder. Ignoring this conversation was not going to work. You sat up in your bed, trying to collect your emotions – trying your very fucking best not to sob.

“I don’t want to distract you from training.” you squeezed out. You moved the phone from your mouth again so you could let out a shaky breath.

“Don’t worry about me.” You could hear Bradley’s footsteps in the background. “What’s bothering you?” You heard a door shut in the background. It was quieter than before on his end, and you assumed he was completely alone now.

You knew he wasn’t going to give up asking why you were upset. You had to to lie to him or tell him the horror filled truth. You bit your lip so hard you tasted blood in your mouth. Your head hurt from holding in your sobs.

“It’s Tim. He’s in California.” Your voice was raw when you spoke. Just saying the reality of the situation made you close to vomitting. There was silence for so long you almost wondered if Bradley had hung up.

“Where are you right now?” Bradley’s tone had completely changed from concerned to- well something you never heard from him before. He was commanding- domineering even.

“I’m at Mavs.” You took in a jittery breath and covered your mouth trying to mask your sobs. But you couldn’t physically take it anymore. Cries ripped through you throat and you knew you sounded fucking pitiful.

“Does Tim know where you are?” He asked in the same serious tone. It made shivers ripple up your spine.

“I don’t know.” You choked out.

“Fuck.” Bradley hissed so softly you wondered if he meant to say it out loud.

“I’m so scared Bradley.” You whispered between your fingers and into the phone. You breathed in harshly, whimpers coming out between each breath.

“It’s going to be okay.” His voice was firm. You wanted to believe him, but there were so many reasons he could be wrong. It felt like no one could help you- you were completely hopeless.

But his voice was so god damn convincing.

“I need to get back to you.” This time his voice sounded more strained, more raw. You shook your head.

“You need to focus on what you’re doing there.” You said, even though you literally wanted nothing more than him to be with you. But that was so very selfish of you.

“You’re all I’ve been thinking about.” He said softly. “Now I’ve just shifted to worrying about you.”

You cracked a small laugh, one that caused you to hiccup with tears streaming down your face.

“He can’t get to me here. Not on the base.”

You were partly reassuring yourself, and partly trying to convince Bradley of the same.

“I can convince my command to let me fly home tomorrow. I’ll take one of the jets back.”

You shook your head and looked up at the ceiling, letting tears roll freely down your face.

“Bradley if you come near me- and he finds me- he will hurt you.” Your jaw was clenched so tight to hold back sobs that your head was starting to throb from the pressure. “Please, just stay away from me until they find him.”

“Nice try sweetheart. Not gonna happen.” Bradley said back, his voice a little more teasing than serious this time. “I’m not worried about him hurting me, I’m worried about him hurting you.”

Before you could argue back with him, he took a deep breath, loud enough for you to follow suit.

“But he’s not going to get to you. Or me.” You sniffled; tears still fresh down your face- but you couldn’t deny the relief you felt just by talking to him.

“It’s almost 2am, why don’t you get some sleep?” He asked. You slouched back down in bed and used your free hand to wipe away tears. There was no fucking way you were going to be able to sleep tonight.

“I’m too anxious to sleep.” You laughed sadly while pulling the covers over your shoulders.

“How about I stay on the phone with you until you fall asleep then?” His voice was so god damned soft. It was addicting, every time he spoke your need for him to speak again grew.

“I can’t ask you to do that. You need sleep for work tomorrow- and you know it.” You pictured him falling asleep while flying and his plane going up in flames. You shook your head at the intrusive thought.

God damn anxiety.

“Who said anything about me not sleeping?” He questioned. You heard him walking now, his footsteps clicking against a hard floor on a boat somewhere in the middle of the ocean. “We’ll both sleep- but I’ll keep the call going. That way it’s like I’m there.”

You knew it wasn’t love- but something warm and really fucking similar to it was filling your chest. You were being chased by a crazed ex- boyfriend, crying like a dog on the phone with him and yet he still wanted you? He still wanted to make sure you slept? He was unreal.

“Close your eyes baby- I’m crawling in bed now.”

The way he said baby made your toes curl. His voice was sounding so tired – and you were afraid if you didn’t agree to stay on the line, he would stay up even longer trying to convince you to.

“Okay. I’m already under the covers.” You snuggled into them and set the phone down next to you. You turned on your side and pressed the speaker button.

“That’s good baby, now close your eyes.” You heard Bradley pull covers over himself. You wondered if he was sleeping naked- or at least shirtless. You were kind of regretting not switching to facetime.

You blushed and slapped a hand over your face to rub your eyes. Not what you should be focusing on at the moment.

You tried to be silent but your breath was just too ragged from the anxiety and sob fest you had. You took in a deep breath and exhaled- just like your therapist had taught you. It burned your chest to breathe in so deeply – but you felt a tiny bit more relaxed.

“Think of Montana.” He said sleepily. “The mountains are beautiful there. Like out of a movie.” You sniffled and snuggled into the covers surrounding you.

“I’ve heard there’s Moose there.” Your eyes were suddenly growing heavy. “I’ve always wanted to see one.” Bradley laughed softly.

“Then we’ll find you one.”

Your heart warmed at the thought. You pictured following Bradley through the woods in Montana. The mountains, lakes and rivers were all so beautiful. You swore Bradley was saying something on the other line, but you had already fallen into a deep sleep.

*********************************************************

A knock on the door sprung you out of the dreamless sleep you were in. The light from the windows in your room was blinding, and you really wondered how you managed to sleep through it. You checked your phone- it was 11:00am. Damn.

Your mind flashed back to your phone call with Bradley. How he had literally soothed you to sleep embarrassingly well. Then you remembered your reality.

Tim’s in town.

A shudder settled over you. But your attention was brought back to the knocking at the door.

You froze under the covers.

You heard Mavericks hesitant footsteps, then the opening of a door. Maverick’s voice sounded friendly, which calmed your heart beat.

Then you heard it– a voice as sweet as honey.

Bradley Bradshaw.

You jumped out of bed and slipped your sleep shorts on under your oversized college t-shirt you’d slept in all night. You didn’t even bother fixing your hair before heading down the stairs.

How did he get here so fast? Was he serious about flying here on a fucking jet?

You knew your eyes were probably blood shot and puffy. And you knew for a fact that your hair was tangled in a nest from the long night of sleep. But Bradley’s voice was a light house, and you were a ship drawn straight to it.

You got to the end of the steps and stopped to see Bradley and Maverick talking quietly. Bradley looked up to meet your eyes.

He was wearing his pilot uniform and a small black duffle bag was held at his side.

“Bradley.” You said softly, stepping down from the last stair and walking straight to him. You hesitated before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling yourself into his chest.

A shudder went down your spine, almost from a sense of relief rather than nervousness. Bradley’s strong arms wrapped behind your back and held you close to his chest.

His head fell into the crook of your neck, and he took a deep breath.

“I came as fast as I could.” His breath was warm as he spoke against your neck.

“You didn’t have to.” You murmured, grasping your hands around him tighter. “But thank you.”

Maverick cleared his throat and you flushed. You stepped away from Bradley, but you made sure that you were still close enough for your shoulders to touch.

You missed him, oh god you missed him more than you’d like to admit. You had missed his smile, his voice, his scent his body.

“Let’s talk in the kitchen.”

All three of you sat at the wood table in the small kitchen that was filled with tension. You offered to cook breakfast but both men refused it. You made coffee for all of you instead- setting three mugs down on the table.

“I can’t believe the admiral let you take the jet.” Maverick said his eyebrows raised. Bradley took a sip of his coffee and stretched his arms behind his head.

“Better to ask for forgiveness than permission?” Bradley gave Maverick a wide smile. “Someone really wise told me that once.”

Maverick rolled his eyes and tried hide the smile on his face by looking down at the table.

“I guess I can’t be mad at you then.”

You grinned at the conversation between them. You knew their history, and how hard they both worked to get to this point. The fondness in Maverick’s eyes matched the same kind of love he had for you.

Maverick looked between the two of you and sighed.

“I don’t like the idea of leaving you guys here alone.”

You shot him a confused look.

“What do you mean alone?” You asked, watching Maverick intently. You realized that he was in uniform, not in his usual t-shirt and gym shorts.

“I got called out to Nevada to investigate a jet that crashed.” Mav slid his arm over the table and grabbed your shoulder. “I’ll be back by tomorrow. But I trust Bradley to keep you safe while I’m gone.”

You glanced up at Bradley who was watching you with those sweet warm eyes. He was watching your every move, like his life depended on it.

“You’ll be off base Mav- you’re less safe that way.” You countered; anxiety found you again.

“It’s not me he’s after.” Maverick said, removing his hand from your shoulder.

You knew he was right.

Bradley’s grip on his coffee cup was tighter than before, judging by his tight white knuckles. He was looking down now, jaw set and his shoulders tensed. You tore your eyes from him to look back at Maverick.

“Any update from John?”

Mav shook his head.

“He still doesn’t have eyes on him. All he knows is that his plane landed at the airport last night.”

The fact that Tim was this close to you again terrified you. It didn’t feel real.

“How does he know she’s here?” Bradley’s voice was dark, just like it had been on the phone last night.

“He must have known she would hide with me. It probably took him a while to find out where I was stationed.” Maverick was frustrated, and you shook your head. You refused to let him blame himself for this.

“Has John been able to uncover files?” You were growing extremely frustrated.

Frustrated at the situation, frustrated the cops that didn’t believe you and most of all frustrated that the man you ran all the way across the country from had found you.

Maverick shook his head and disappointment.

“Maybe I should let him find me. Use myself as bait to at least get him arrested for stalking.” Your body rejected the idea by a swift wave of nausea.

“No!” Both Maverick and Bradley said at the same time.

“What else am I supposed to do?” You said your voice cracking. Tears started to well in your eyes, and you cursed your ability to cry at any moment.

“He won’t stop until he finds me. You know that Mav.” You wiped away your tears before they could roll down your cheeks. You avoided looking at Bradley.

“We just have to wait for him to slip up, or for John to recover your files.”

Bradley sat up straighter causing you to look at him. His brown eyes were fiery with disbelief.

“We can’t just wait for him to hurt her!” Bradley’s nostrils were flaring and his grip on his coffee cup made you wonder if it would crush in his hands.

You sucked in a breath anxiously. He had a point. But there was just no other way.

“Bradley calm down.” Maverick said in a warning tone. “It’s the only way we can do this, if we arrest him now then he will be released in 48 hours. There’s nothing they can actually charge him for.”

You looked over at Bradley who was shaking his head, his jaw was still clenched but his expression was now more sad than angry.

“I hate this.” He murmured, leaning back in his chair. You twisted your lips and grabbed his hand.

Bradley wrapped his hand around yours as soon as you reached for him. You swore you could see his stress melt away in that moment.

Even though you were the one who needed the comfort, all you wanted was to make Bradley not whatever he was right now.

The Bradley you wanted, needed, was a one with bright eyes and a smile that could bring you to your knees. Right now, he was the furthest thing from it. You gave his hand a squeeze and let go.

“You should go Mav. I know you’re probably already running late.” You gave him a small smile and stood up, collecting both men’s coffee cups. You knew you were glossing over what needed to be talked about. But what more was there to say?

The reality was that Tim was after you and there was pretty much nothing you could do about it.

“I can make some breakfast for us Bradley.” You said, not even bothering to look back at him. You started pulling ingredients from the fridge.

“You don’t have to.” Bradley said tentatively. You scoffed at him.

“I know you’re hungry Mr. I woke-up early enough to steal a jet and fly here by 11am.”

Bradley laughed at that, making your heart skip a beat. His laugh was like medicine.

“I’ll see both of you tomorrow.” Mav pointed between the two of you. “Call me if anything comes up.”

He grabbed his duffle bag that was sitting by the door. You didn’t want him to go, but you had no control over that.

“Bye Mav!” You and Bradley said at the same time. Mav rolled his eyes and waved goodbye before hurrying out the door. You were right, he was late.

The house felt quieter, and much, much smaller now that Maverick was gone.

You continued making breakfast while sneaking glances at Bradley. He looked so … so himself in his pilot’s uniform. Like he was made to wear it.

His tall frame looked silly sitting in the dinky wooden chair, and the coffee cup he held looked like a child’s cup in his hands. You caught a glance of his soft lips that were so damn kissable.

“What do you want to do after breakfast?” He asked, breaking you from your trance. You blushed and flipped the egg on the skillet.

“Netflix?”

*************************************************

You laid on a white sand beach, looking out at the crystal-clear ocean. The sound of the curling waves radiated in your ears. The sunshine warmed your skin, making you feel completely at ease.

You watched as Bradley waded in the ocean. His bare back was tanned and strong. You wanted to join him, but you felt so light where you were. You took a deep breath, and let a smile crawl to your face.

Bradley’s laugh filled your ears. He was dancing in the water now, looking as beautiful as ever.

Perfect. This was perfect.

The sound of footsteps startled you. You looked to your right to see a tall figure dressed in all black walking towards the shore. Walking towards Bradley.

You tried to move, but you couldn’t. Your feet were stuck in the sand holding you down. Panic washed over you.

“BRADLEY!” You screamed. He couldn’t hear you. He was still laughing and running in the waves.

You looked in horror as the man turned around to face you. It was Tim. His ice blue eyes were emotionless. You screamed and tried to move again, but your body refused.

“BRADLEY! BRADLEY PLEASE!” You cried again, this time screaming so loud your chest was aching.

It didn’t matter how much you screamed; he couldn’t hear you.

Tim turned and walked into the ocean, just steps away from Bradley now.

“Bradley turn around!” You sobbed, still thrashing in place trying to get to him.

You watched in horror as Tim wrapped his hands around Bradley’s neck and slammed him into the water. Both men disappeared under the waves.

You screamed. You couldn’t get to him, no matter what you did- you couldn’t fucking get to him.

The water was still. You were waiting for Bradley to resurface. It had been too fucking long.

You had sweat dripping down your face, your heart felt like it was going to pop out of your chest.

The water started to bubble with movement.

“NO!” You sobbed, falling to your knees.

Tim, was walking out of the water, dragging Bradley’s lifeless body behind him. You screamed and a pain stronger than anything you felt before ripped through you.

He let go of Bradley’s body at the shore like he was nothing and started walking towards you. You had nowhere to run.

“No please, please please please!” Your chest was burning, you screamed again, praying someone would hear you.

“No please!” Tim reached out his hand-

But then he was gone.

Suddenly you were staring at familiar pair of brown eyes.

Bradley.

You weren’t on the beach anymore. You recognized your room, the bed you were laying on – the smell of home. Bradley was leaning over the bed looking at you with panicked eyes.

“You’re okay- you’re safe” He said,softly.

You blinked a few times, trying desperately to focus on him. Trying to forget what you’d seen. It had felt so real.

You tried to speak but you were breathing too hard. Your eyes felt like they were going to pop from your skull. Your hands were rolled in fists, tucked into your chest. You could feel the cold sweat sticking to your T-shirt. Your throat was burning just as it had in your dream, and that tears were covering your face like you’d been crying for hours.

“It was just a dream.” Bradley’s voice cracked. He had woken you up by shaking you- you’d felt it. But now he wasn’t touching you at all- it was like he was scared to hurt you.

“Oh.” Was all you could think it say. You were afraid if you looked away from him, he would disappear. You let tears fall from your eyes, though you stayed silent. Your chest was painfully raw.

You gasped when the image of Bradley’s lifeless body flashed into your mind.

You reached towards Bradley, just needing him close to you. He seemed to understand, and immediately moved to crawl under the covers with you.

As soon as the bed dipped with his weight you were against him. Your face was pressed against his chest, and his arms slowly wrapped around your body.

It was the first time you’d been like this, but it was so God damn natural to be this close.

You could feel his steady heartbeat. Alive. He was alive.

A flash of Tim’s icy blue eyes popped in your head.

You jerked in Bradley’s arms and he squeezed you closer. Your heart was beating so hard but your cries were soft, and tired.

“You’re okay.” He whispered. You cried even more at his voice, grasping onto him.

“I couldn’t save you.” You whispered, while gripping onto his t-shirt that was now soaked with your tears. “He killed you.” You whimpered at the memory.

“I’m right here.” Bradley rubbed circles on the small of your back. “No one’s going to hurt me.”

Your legs were tucked under his and your hand was wrapped behind his neck. Your stomach was pressed against his. All you could feel was your heart beating against his.

You were still in his arms trembling when he spoke.

“You’ve got to take some deep breaths sweetheart.”

You let out a small laugh and hiccupped.

“Easier said than done.” You retorted. You tried though, because it had been at least 10 minutes since the dream plagued you. Your heart was beating just as fast as it was then.

“Think about Montana.” He suggested. You smiled lightly at that.

“I wish we could go there now.” You whispered. You pictured the same big mountains you always did when he mentioned Montana. Images of blue lakes and rivers flooded your mind. You tried to imagine that you were there, with Bradley without a care in the world.

“We’ll go soon.” He said, his chest rumbling your whole body. You nodded and finally felt your body relax in his arms. The worst part of waking up from the nightmare was over.

You paused to take in your surroundings. Bradley was holding you like he would die if he let go. He was practically covering you, sheltering you like gun fire would hit you both at any minute. You were so warm in his arms, so fucking safe. It was heaven even on the worst days.

Memories of the night before flooded your brain.

You both watched Netlfix on the couch all night – you hadn’t even bothered to cook and ordered pizza instead. It was bliss. Neither of you talked about Tim, or the impending doom surrounding you. You’d just pretended it was only you and Bradley that mattered.

You had fallen asleep on the couch when Bradley woke you up. He gave you a piggyback to your bed and tucked you in like a little “caterpillar.” His words, not yours.

You insisted he sleep in your bed with you, but he wanted to be next to the front door- just in case. You were too tired to argue with him. The last thing you remembered before the dream was him giving you a soft kiss goodnight.

“You get dreams like that often?” Bradley interrupted your thoughts.

“Sometimes.”

You were lying, you had nightmares periodically since you escaped from Tim. But they were never this bad – and they had never included someone else getting killed in the dream. It had always been just you.

You pulled your head away from his chest. Your hair was sticking to your face from all the tears you’d cried.

“I’m so sorry Bradley. I know this isn’t something you signed up for.”

A wave of shame washed over you. Maybe this was too much for him. The rawness of trauma – of fear.

You tried to move away but he held you steady against him.

“Please don’t apologize.” He shook his head at you and met your eyes. “And I did sign up for this. I signed up for you the first time I spoke to you in that bar 5 months ago.”

Your eyes widened.

“I don’t want to scare you- because I swear I’m not trying to rush this.” He said quickly. “I just know I don’t want to be without you.”

You bit your lip and searched his eyes. They were honest, pure and so kind.

“I don’t want to be without you either.” You said, reaching to touch his cheek. His skin was tanned and his stubble tickled your fingers.

“I’m home!”

You and Bradley both froze and looked at each other with wide eyes.

“Get up!” You said, shoving him off the bed. Bradley stumbled off the bed and you covered your mouth to cover your laughter. He looked back at you with a glare.

But you both knew you had to get it together quick. You knew Maverick suspected you and Bradley would be sleeping in the same room. But you didn’t want him to see that – even if nothing…sexual happened.

“I’ll come down in a few.” You whispered. Bradley straightened his shirt and hair.

“Sounds good sweet cheeks.” He winked and was out the door before you could tell him never to call you sweet cheeks again.

You rolled onto your back and stared at the all too familiar ceiling. How was it you could feel so raw and terrified, but so fucking happy at the same time?

*********************************************************

(Bradley’s POV)

Bradley walked down the stairs, still adjusting his t-shirt and hair as he moved.

“Is she still sleeping?”

Maverick’s voice caused his head to perk up. Mav was standing at the front door, still in uniform. Bradley reached the end of the staircase and let out a big sigh.

“She had a nightmare.” An ache that he hadn’t been able to shake since he heard you screaming his name in terror panged in his chest.

He thought that Tim had found you.

That is until he ran up the stairs into the bedroom to see you. The image of you thrashing in the sheets sobbing was something he wished he could forget.

“I hate that son of a bitch.” Bradley said, his jaw clicking. He felt hot anger was over him. He hated the fear that Tim was causing you.

He tried not to think about what kind of sick things he did to you before you were able to escape. Every time he did it sent him in a fucking tailspin.

“John still doesn’t have tabs on him.” Maverick said lowly. Bradley guessed he was trying to speak softly so you wouldn’t hear. Maverick walked towards the kitchen, with Bradley following closely behind him.

“Do you think he has the balls to come on base?” Bradley asked. He subconsciously balled his fists together. He felt an unatural instinct to protect you- and the thought of this disgusting man getting anywhere near you made him sick.

“I don’t know.” Mav’s voice was tense. Bradley shook his head and started pacing back and forth.

He loved Maverick- but he couldn’t help but feel like the older man wasn’t doing enough.

He was fucking terrified for you. And even though he would do anything to keep you safe – he wasn’t sure he could.

“I’m going to the police station.” Bradley said, walking towards the table with his keys on it. He could feel Maverick’s eyes on him.

“Bradley, I’ve already tried that. There’s nothing they can do.”

Bradley shook his head in frustration.

“Then we try again!” He said harshly with his chest puffed out in anger. Maverick’s eyes were disapproving as Bradley walked towards the door.

“Tell her I’ll be back soon.” He gestured towards your bedroom.

“Bradley—”

He heard Maverick calling him, but he didn’t care to listen. It took all the self-control in the world to not slam the door.

He trudged to his car and started the engine.

He was going to make them listen to them, whether they liked it or not.

*********************************************************

Bradley walked into the crowded police station.

The front desk was full of people, and the waiting room surrounding it was even fuller. Officers were mingling around their desks and talking with each other.

He waited with his hands in his pockets, trying not to fucking explode with impatience. Ten minutes passed before his thoughts were interrupted.

“Sir, can I help you?” A gruff voice yelled, catching Bradley’s attention. It was an officer behind the desk, gesturing towards him.

Bradley strutted towards the desk, trying his best not to lose his cool. As soon as he got to the counter he spoke. He did'nt have a fucking second to waste.

“My girlfriend, she’s being stalked.” Bradley took a deep breath in order to manage his stress. “He’s threatening to kill her.” Bradley swallowed, his eyes glowering into the officers.

The officer had no reaction, just looked down at his notepad to write. Bradley licked his lips and bit the inside of his cheek- trying to remain calm once again.

“Hello?” Bradley said, fucking annoyed that the officer was acting like he hadn’t heard say someone was threatening to murder his girlfriend.

“Sir, I’ll call you when we’re ready to take a full report. You can sit in the waiting room until then.” He still didn’t look up from his god damned notepad. Bradley wanted to rip it out of his hands.

“Did you not hear what I just said?” He seethed, his fists balling at his sides. “Someone is trying to murder my girlfriend!” Bradley’s voice was growing to a shout- and other officers were taking notice.

“Sir – I understand that. But unless there is an emergency, we can’t do anything but take a report.” The man finally looked up at Bradley.

His inconvenienced stare sent Bradley over the edge. He thought about your screams or terror this morning. Or all of the tears he'd seen you shed in just the last two weeks. He couldn't allow you to live in so much pain.

“That’s not good enough!” Bradley’s fist slammed on the counter, causing everyone to jerk at the noise.

“Sir- you need to calm down.” He said, his eyes narrowing.

Bradley noticed officers moving closer to where he was standing, hands hovering over their holstered guns. Bradley scoffed at their reaction.

“How am I supposed to calm down when you're all in here chatting like it’s fucking Easter Sunday and my girlfriend is running for her god damn life!” Bradley’s chest was heaving up and down.

He knew he had crossed the line yelling at the police, but he was so fucking desperate. He had to make them listen – he had to. For you.

He felt a hand touch his left shoulder. Bradley whipped around, ready to shove someone when he realized it was Maverick.

“Bradley, you need to stand down.” His voice was calm. The shorter man was still squeezing his shoulder. Bradley shook his head in disbelief.

“You’re just going to let them do nothing?” Bradley seethed and pointed at the officers in the building. He was making a damn scene, but he didn’t care.

“No, I’m going to take care of this.” Maverick raised his eyebrows at him. “And you’re going to go take a walk.”

Bradley felt angry all over again.

“I’m not going to take a damn walk Maverick. Not when he’s still out there looking for her!” Bradley shook his head, his fear now mixed with anger. Maverick stepped Infront of him, looking him straight in the eyes.

“Do you think you’ll be better off sitting in a jail cell for assaulting an officer?” He whispered at Bradley harshly.

He knew Maverick was right, but he was still pissed off.

“If you do nothing and she gets hurt – her blood is on your hands.”

He directed his comment to all of the police officers who were staring at him with wide eyes.

His veins were hot as he stormed out of the police station. He cursed under his breath, pacing Infront of his car.

That did not go as planned.

He weighed his options on what he would do next. Should he go out on a wild goose chase and find Tim on his own? Should he go back to you and provide comfort? Had Maverick left you alone?

He groaned and put his hands above his head to calm himself down. He sat on the bench Infront of the police station to cool down before driving.

“Not your smartest moment kid.”

Bradley looked up to see Maverick making his way towards him. Bradley rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You got a better idea?” He questioned Mav through narrowed eyes. Maverick sat down next to him shaking his head.

“They are going to patrol and check local motels for him. That’s all I could get them to agree to do for us right now.”

Bradley slouched at that. Well, that was a a better plan than the murder mission he had in mind.

“Did you leave her alone at the house?” He pictured you alone, scared. Venerable.

“No of course not. John is there.”

Bradley shook his head.

“I’m sorry Mav.” Bradley licked his lips and rubbed his hands over his eyes. “I just lose it when it comes to her.”

“It’s alright. I understand.” Maverick leaned his elbows against his knees. “Your dad would have done the same.” A fond smile flashed on Maverick’s face.

Bradley smiled back at him. They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the clouds float through the sky.

Bradley tapped his fingers against his thigh. He licked his lips and took a deep breath.

If the police didn't find Tim by tomorrow - he would go out and find the bastard himself.

*******************************************************

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