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ghostchems · 2 months

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infernal - terzo x f!reader - part four

art by the amazing @piaart!!

author’s note: HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY @angellayercake!! GO TELL HER HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

so sorry for the delay on this haha. i've been wrestling with this for a while but i'm pretty happy with it now! it is about 4.4k words. part one/two/three. ao3 linky.

Terzo’s house is different at night. The lights are dim and the shadows are long, every long, creaking corridor seemingly ending in a black void. You’ve never been here this late. In fact, you can’t remember what you were just doing… why are you working late? The hardwood floor rasps beneath your shoes as you turn a corner and see him inside the room at the end of the hallway, sprawled out across a plush purple couch. Terzo immediately perks up at the sight of you, propping himself on his elbows, the usual lop-sided grin sitting handsomely on his face. You feel like you float to him and you’re suddenly standing next to the couch, hovering over him. One of his hands crawls up your waist and then loops his arm around you to pull you down on top of him. It’s much more forward than the careful dance the two of you have been doing since the couch incident. You struggle to breathe in his lap, his hands firmly planted on your waist as he leans up to level his eyes with yours.

“This is what you want, si?” He purrs, his hands snaking up your back to hold you close to him, his face an inch away from you. His paint is sharp, more sharp than usual, and he feels hot to the touch, his fingers nearly burning through your shirt. Your heart flutters and you gasp, your mouth dropping open as his stuttered breath hits your lips. “You like me. You want me. You’ve wanted me from the start, haven’t you, puffetta?” You’ve heard him growl before but not like this, not in a low hum that sends a shiver down your spine. Words fail you but you manage to nod. And nod. And nod again before his large hand grabs the back of your head, his fingers knotting in your hair. You nearly moan in anticipation, wanting and needing this so badly, his lips just about to touch yours — so close to finally tasting him.

Instead, you wake up in a cold sweat, your fingers dug into the sheets and drool on your pillow. Your panting and your cheeks are flushed but you slowly start to cool off once you rip the comforter off of you, throwing it to the ground in frustration. Mostly frustration at yourself for continuing to watch videos of your boss performing. You can’t help it. Terzo let you in. He invited you to sit beside him and take a peak into his world. The memorabilia makes sense now, the posters, the photographs, the everything.

And you want to know more.

“Ah, it is really… coming along, eh?” Terzo sounds so sleepy, brushing the hair out of his eyes and gazing out of the kitchen window while his hip rests against the counter. You take a moment to look up from your laptop and out the window as well, silently taking in the improvements that have been made under your care. The grass is a lush green, a hammock underneath the only tree in the yard, now trimmed and shaped to actually resemble one. A patio with a stylish dark grey conversation set beneath a hardtop gazebo is just to the left of the window, nestled in a corner of the yard. The garden still needs some work but there are two small raised beds in the back corner, where the sun shines the most, and a few spots already reserved for jalapeno peppers at Terzo’s insistence. You turn back to look at him, unable to fight off the blush that rises to your cheeks.

“Do you like it?” There’s a lilt in your voice, lips pulling into a small smile. It makes him melt a little bit.

“Si, yes. It is much nicer than it was before…” He trails off as he slinks closer to you only to keep his gaze settled on the yard. “We must have spritz’s outside one of these nights.”

“Spritz?”

“Ehhh, it’s like rosso arancio — orangey **drink with ice cubes and, uhhhh, ah! Served in a wine glass.” His mannerisms make you smile even more. You feel like a fool and you’re sure you look like one but you can’t help it. Your dream intensified your feelings, making it nearly impossible to hide them at this point. Is it so bad? To have a crush on your weird, retired-rockstar boss?

“Oh, like in White Lotus?” You rest your chin on your hands and flutter your eyes at him. Terzo flashes a bright smile but you can see in his eyes that he has no idea what you’re talking about. Silence lingers with him hovering just above you, your eyes locked. The moment is interrupted by the buzzing of your phone. “Oh shit, the landscaper!” You grab your phone and hurry out of the kitchen and toward the backyard.

Terzo keeps his eyes on the yard, slipping his hands in his robe pockets as he waits for you to appear. You caught him off guard this morning, your dreamlike gaze and easy smile making it impossible for him to be anything other than endeared to you. He’s almost relieved for the interruption because of how close he was to breaking the tension, wanting nothing more than to shove his fingers down your throat and watch those bright eyes widen with shock. You come into view with the landscaper trailing behind you, looking over your shoulder with a smile as you use your hand to sweep across the landscape with your finger ending up pointing to some brush that needs to be cleared. Terzo has spent so much time just watching you operate and he hasn’t tired of it, which is a feat due to his relatively short attention span. In fact, he doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of it.

You’re a natural with people. You always have a cheery smile, a nice greeting and some banter to lighten things up. He’s been so shut-in, his only company either you or his own voice, that watching genuine human interaction makes him swoon hard for you. His mind drifts to the times when he used to be social and how it used to fuel him, how it used to keep him going even after his Papacy fell apart.

What fuels him now? His gaze falls to where you had been sitting and his attention is immediately captured. You left you laptop open.

Terzo has always been nosy, even during his days at the Abbey. He can’t help but allow his eyes to focus on your email inbox that you foolishly left open. How many secrets could be in your inbox? What could he find out about you through what’s there? Terzo resists. He truly does for a split second. But he just cannot help himself. He slinks into the wooden kitchen chair you are set up at and pulls his glasses out from his robe pocket. He clicks on the first thing he sees: Banana Republic and is disappointed that it is only clothes. One of the male models catches his attention, though.

His outfit, specifically. A henley and a cardigan, matched tastefully with a pair of sweatpants. Terzo wonders if this is the kind of style you like. He pulls out his phone and opens the Banana Republic website but freezes when he hears faint footsteps. Terzo scrambles out of your chair, only to settle close by, leaning against a nearby wall and pretending to be hopelessly distracted by his phone (aka, staring at cardigans).

You enter the kitchen and can’t help by eye him suspiciously, the look on his face perhaps just a bit too aloof. He keeps scrolling lazily and starts to lean backward, all too aware of your gaze. It lingers for a moment before you sit back down, knitting your brows together at the email open on your screen. Then, you see that it’s up to 50% off all items which could be combined with clearance items and you’re clicking the link, getting lost in the undeniable pull of online shopping. Terzo gives a dramatic huff and leaves the room, desperately trying to hide how tickled he is.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, unable to hide a grimace. This is silly. Today is date day. You ended up texting Dylan. How could you not? Something you’ve longed for since you were a girl was offered up to you on a silver platter. So — why aren’t you more excited? Instead, Terzo is on the mind. It feels like he’s consumed your whole life as of late, spending your days in his home working for him and now he’s seeped into your home time. You haven’t allowed yourself to fully go down the rabbit hole, sticking only with the videos he had shown you in his home despite your YouTube recommendations now being full of him but also… other videos of different singers and musicians under the same band name. Of course, you couldn’t ask despite your curiosity — it’s obviously something of a sore subject and he’s only just started opening up to you more about that time of his life. The last thing you want to do is press him on something so personal and painful to him.

But now you have to live with this knowledge.

You try to push the thought from the forefront of you mind, instead focusing on yourself in the mirror again. A black shift dress hugs your figure and you have your red scarf, your favorite scarf, loose around your neck. How are you supposed to dress for this occasion? A date after work? It’s impossible to put together an appropriate outfit for both. But also — who are you kidding? The idea of Terzo seeing you in a dress has you anxious in more ways than one. No one needs an excuse to wear a dress but for some reason you feel guilty. Guilty that this dress isn’t for him. Maybe… a little bit disappointed, too. But you should give Dylan a shot, right?

“Right?” Oh, you are anxious.

Something catches your eye in your mirror, your gaze slowly trailing toward it. Your red scarf. You hum in thought for a moment and then turn to snatch it off your dresser, quickly looping it around your neck. Immediate relief washes over you, something about the scarf soothing your nerves. Could be because it makes you think of the way warm knuckles brushed along your cool neck. A shiver runs down your spine and your cheeks flush from the thought. Fuck. You have to pull yourself together. Time to focus on work, on getting shit done to distract yourself from… well everything.

Meanwhile, Terzo is having a similar time looking at himself in disbelief. It’s the most put together he’s tried to be since his days as Papa. He sits on the edge of his bed, one hand on each knee, his toes tapping on the ground in front of him. The amount of thought that has gone into this outfit is silly, even though he basically bought exactly what the model was wearing. Now his thoughts have turned to how should he be sitting when you arrive? See? It’s silly*.* He almost ashamed of how **you’ve wormed your way into his cold, broken heart **when **that was not his plan. You’re supposed to be obsessed with him, waiting on him hand and foot while kissing the ground he walks on. Instead he’s fallen for you. How embarrassing. But how could it have been avoided?

Terzo rests his palms on either side of his bed as he leans back and spreads his legs, sharp eyes examining his position for a beat. Too forward? An amused grin flickers across his face at the thought of you reacting to him like this. Definitely too forward. He tilts his head and adjusts himself with care, back straightening out and he crosses his legs. Closer but not quite. Terzo stares at his own reflection, admiring his paint for the day. Every time he sees himself he wonders why he still applies it everyday. Perhaps it’s a comfort thing, makes him feel like he’s important again. Like he’s Papa.

He wonders if he’ll ever hear you call him that.

Terzo takes a deep breath and exhales with a rumble, his eyes falling shut. You would do anything he asked, wouldn’t you? His mouth splits into a grin as he runs his slender fingers through his hair. Eyes open slowly, gaze focusing on his reflection. Strands of hair had fallen into his face and his head overall looking stylishly unkempt. More giggles.

Perfect.

Some mornings it’s like you blink and you’re at Terzo’s home. Not this morning. You are hyper aware of every stoplight, every Dunkin Donuts as your commute drags out to the second. Too much alone time with your overactive brain plotting out kind of every situation where something could go wrong with the date or work today and coming up with attack plan after attack plan to fix the issue. Not fun. After what feels like an eternity, you pull through the eerie wrought iron gate and travel down the long, tree lined driveway. Tension fills your chest as you come to a slow stop. It’s just one weird day that you have to get through.

You got this.

Terzo is already in the foyer by the time you walk through the door which is unlike him, usually spending most mornings in bed or somewhere else dark and comfy until he can no longer tolerate his caffeine withdrawal headache. He’s balancing his coffee cup on his thigh, one hand resting behind his head while the other scrolls through his phone. Your feet come to a stop, blinking a few times to ensure what you’re seeing is real, having never seen him this clothed before*.* He’s still in sweatpants but they taper down to his ankles and he’s wearing a pair of moccasins, his hair expertly tousled and reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He’s wearing a white henley that is artfully unbuttoned to expose his thick chest hair and a cozy navy blue cardigan draped over his slinky shoulders. Only his eyes are painted — giving you the chance to finally see his bare face, smooth olive skin wrinkled with age. You stare at him silently. He looks like he’s come directly out of a magazine. Terzo head tilts to face you, his eyes still focused on his phone until they unhurriedly drag away from the screen to settle on you.

“Ammazza…” The word is an impassioned whisper. He’s stunned, eyes wide as he looks over your figure with such a deliberate slowness it makes your cheeks burn. Dark eyes settle on your scarf, a smirk tugging on his lips, then his gaze flickers to meet yours. He rises from his seat, one hand clumsily snatching his coffee from his lap to stop himself from spilling, trying to hide his clumsiness with a cough. “Buongiorno mio toppolino… eh, you are wearing a dress?”

“I am. You’re wearing a cardigan.”

“I am.” Terzo purrs and slinks closer to you as he slips his phone into his cardigan pocket. His clumsiness is now replaced by that irresistible lazy swagger you are so familiar with. He lets his eyes wander again, tilting his head while regarding you. You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest but it’s impossible to hide the blush that creeps up your cheeks. “I do not think I can let you start work without a dance, not when you are wearing such a beautiful dress, puffetta.” There’s an undeniable heat in his words. It’s too early for this.

“It’s too early for this, Terzo.” You huff as you avert his eyes, a desperate attempt to not fall under his spell.

“Come now… I don’t want to pull the “boss” card but, eh…?” He sets his coffee down on the table as his other arm brazenly snakes around your waist. Your face is fully red now and your brain is in a deep state of fart but you manage to move with him. This is the exact opposite of what you wanted for today but you find your stress slipping away to focus on the warmth of his fingers from having held his mug of coffee. He guides your hand to his chest then slips his bare hand along your other arm until he laces his fingers in yours and raises them to lead the way. Terzo is taller than you, not by much but he still looms over you, those piercing eyes never leaving yours. He starts to slowly sway to imaginary music as your cheeks burn, your chest impossibly warm but you start to loosen up, especially as his movements grow more fluid. “There is always time for a little dance, eh?” Terzo leans in close enough that you can feel his warm breath on your lips then rests his cheek against your temple with a hum.

And you thought cuddling on the couch was intimate. You feel every inhale and exhale, his humming gradually growing stronger in your ear. His cool lips and warm breath giving you goosebumps. Cirice. You recognize it from your be various videos you’ve watched but bite your tongue and enjoy him. This may not be a stage in front of thousands of people but it definitely feels like a demonstration of some kind. Or he could just be pushing the boundary like the creeper he is and you’re eating. it. up. The last time you slow danced was at your senior prom with your date who was on probation — unbeknownst to you at the time he asked you. Somehow this is far less awkward than that. His arm around your waist starts to shift upward, his large hand pressing up your back. He lifts his head but is still only a breath away, his smile lines deep as his gaze meets yours. Your heart stirs in your chest, air caught in your lungs but before you get swept up in the moment he changes the tone.

Terzo starts singing, more energetic and loud as he leads you from the foyer into the den. You nearly trip over yourself when he twirls you, picking up the pace to be more jaunty, more goofy. But even with the fun movements you are extremely aware of his hand on the small of your back, fingertips pressing against you every so often. He’s smiling so wide that it makes it hard for you to hold it together. All of your worries about the day are gone, though — replaced by being completely entranced by him. You know just how special this song is to him, the moments he had on stage with fans, holding their hands and kissing their knuckles. And now he has you in his arms.

“I am going to dip you now.”

“You’re going to wha--?!” You squeal as he dips you, your hand frantically gripping onto his shoulder. He doesn’t drop you though, instead pulling you back to your feet with his toned arms curling around your back. You stop breathing, your chests touching and a strand of his hair brushing against your forehead from how close the two of you are.

“Mm… you are a good dance partner, you know? Easy to lead.” Is he trying to kill you today? Terzo gives you some space but still sways with you, the dance feeling more like… more like standing very close to one another waiting for something to happen. “You spoiled me today with wearing this dress.”

And a punch to your gut. Extreme guilt builds inside you and you can’t stop the distress from being all over your face.

“Oh…oh, puffetta, I am sorry, am I making you uncomfortable or—?” You cut him off with a sigh and take a step away from him, your eyes closing to give yourself time to collect your feelings while his arms fall from around you.

“No, I’m sorry. Ugh, this is so weird. I’m… I have a date after work today. So that’s what the dress is for.” There is no air in your lungs. Everything is so strained. “But you… this…” A flutter in your chest. “I like it. I’m… sorry this dress isn’t for you.” Do you even need to be apologizing? The answer would be no if it was anyone else other than him.

His face is stone cold, so different than the joy that had radiated from him just moments ago. The smile is gone and his brows are furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. You think you’re going to, ummm, die? All you can do is stare back at him, eyes incredibly wide and worry etched across your face. What is he thinking? Why is he taking so long?

One of Terzo’s hands lunges forward and grabs you by the back of your neck, his thumb pressed hard right below your ear. A surprised yelp, grasping for his sleeve and his shirt as his grip on you only tightens. His lips crush against your mouth, tongue forcing it’s way inside. He tastes like spiced coffee. The kiss is ferocious, you feel like you’re disappearing into it, mind blank but fingers digging into the fabric of his cardigan. Terzo’s teeth graze your bottom lip as he pulls away, a fiery look in his eyes.

“Do not forget who you belong too.” A low, vicious growl with bared teeth, pointed fangs glistening in the morning light. He uses his strength to push you down to your knees by your neck, your legs now trembling beneath. Speechless, you can’t look away from him now. Silence stretches between you. And then… he leaves and doesn’t spare you another glance.

You think you are broken. There’s an ache, a primal ache between your legs that burns hotter than you’ve ever felt before. Your skin is on fire, your cheeks burning and numb. What the fuck? He kissed you. Your boss kissed you and then spoke to you as if you are his possession. And it makes you want him more than ever before.

How are you going to be able to think about anything else?

Lucky for you, Terzo is MIA for the rest of the day.

You work as if he is standing over you, watching your every move. You don’t want to disappoint him, not now. Not after he kissed you. But the date. Dylan. Oh, Dylan. Caught in the middle of something there is no way he will ever understand. You hover in your text chat with him a few times with intent to cancel on him… but you can’t. He’s the one who got away, the one who you pined for like an idiot throughout half your life. This date could close that book. Or it could be the prologue. You won’t know unless you follow through.

The end of the day rolls around and you can’t help but pause in the foyer on your way out. Your chest tightens. Such a pleasant start to the day only to spiral out of control. You’re almost happy he kissed you before you were able to tell him that your date was picking you up from his house. The front porch creaks beneath your feet, the rotting wood the focus of your work today. Dylan is already there, leaning against his car and he gives you a big wave. You smile and wave back, light on your feet as you head toward him.

“Ma che cazzo…?” Terzo stares in disbelief, watching from his bedroom window as your date opens the passenger side door for you. Rage boils up within him, his hands clutching at the hem of his cardigan. A ceiling light POPS! behind him, green electricity illuminates the room but only for a second. Flames light up the bottom of the curtains, slowly eating away at them until they are completely engulfed. He’s too angry to care. The shy smile you gave your date eats him up inside, churning his stomach and making his nerves spark. The car fades from view and he unleashes an anguished scream as his hands seemingly grow claws, tearing and ripping the cardigan he had so carefully styled that morning. He doesn’t stop until he’s shirtless and surrounded by shreds of fabric. A sloppy wave of his hand somehow extinguishes the flames, leaving him in his room in the dark.

The nerve of you. To flirt, to giggle, to flutter your beautiful, delicate eyelashes at him while entertaining the idea of another man in your mind. A whore for attention, aren’t you? Pain in his chest. He shouldn’t call you a whore. You don’t deserve that. But it hurts, puffetta. Is it because he slacked off? Or that he had gone soft on you? Terzo groans as he sits on his bed, lasting less than a second before he flops onto the mattress and sinks into the mess of covers. He has been too soft, fucking twirling you around the foyer like a lovesick puppy. A romantic at heart always, eh? It was worth it — seeing you smile and blush gives him life, a reason to wake up the next morning because he has nothing else to do. You’ve made this shithole the Ministry saddled him with into a place that actually makes him feel at home. So… maybe he could be somewhat lenient with your punishment.

Electricity crackles in his bones. He is going to spend the rest of the night here, he thinks, casting a glance at his ancient alarm clock. 5:30pm. What else could possibly get him out of bed at this point? Terzo huffs and swings one of his legs over his body to lazily roll over, dragging the covers along with him to successfully burrito himself with a scoff. Another instance in which someone stole the spotlight from him. At least this time it isn’t his decrepit father. He breaks into a wild chuckle.

That would be fucked.

#terzo #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus x reader #ghost fanfic #ghost band fanfic #ghost fanfiction

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just-a-creep-babe · 3 months

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Graveyard Shift - Part 6

Eyeless Jack x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Commissioned again by @salixlantana <3 -- Thank you so much darling, I really hope you enjoy!! <33

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

She needs relief

It’s all she can think about as her touch moves further and further down her form

It’s been too long

The grueling hours at work, the stress of everything that’s been happening, the haze of paranoia seemingly always crowding her mind—it's been one endless void of anxiety and misery

She hasn’t been taking the time she needs for herself, and now that she’s opened up to the idea, the desire that crashes into her is sudden, intense and all too urgent

She presses a finger over her clit, a hushed breath escaping her as she does, and a flood of warmth spreads up her stomach, coiling into a knot of tension

Her thoughts wander, and she thinks back to the masked man—the pleasantly low hum of his voice, the sheer shape and size of him, the way he always seems to fixate on her—even despite his lack of eyes

She thinks back to his hands, rough and calloused and lined with dark veins, and she wonders what it’d be like if it was him touching her instead

She wonders about the warmth of his body, the firmness of his skin, the precision of his movements

Would he be rough, would he be hungry and impatient and eager to turn her into a quick mess?

Or would he be slow and gentle, pouring care and affection into every second of his touch gliding over her skin?

Her breath hitches in her throat, brows furrowing with concentration as she rubs herself over her underwear

Waves of pleasure shudder through her form, coaxing yet another breathless moan to escape her

Her back arches up, eyes fluttering closed and her lips parting as her empty sex clenches around nothing

She imagines she’s clenching around him instead of nothing; around his thick length, throbbing and pulsing with veins similar to the ones on his hands

And the more she imagines it, the more she can feel her underwear grow slicker with arousal

Her body burns for his touch

From outside, through the open cracks of the curtains, Jack watches the scene unfold

He’s mesmerized by the sight—fuck, he can practically smell her from where he's standing

He shouldn’t be watching

He shouldn’t be gawking through her window like some kind of creep while she’s doing something so personal, so private and so intimate

But it’s the first time he witnesses her do something like that—he didn’t even know if she had those needs in the first place—and he just can’t look away

He’s entranced—like she’s put some kind of spell on him

Her face contorts with pleasure, her brows furrowing as she pants and gasps, her chest heaving with every labored breath

Jack tries to absorb every minuscule detail he can see from where he is

God, he’s fucking aching in his pants

Acting purely on instinct, he brings a hand to his bulge and starts palming himself through his jeans

He can't see beneath those damn sheets covering her body, but he still tries to imagine it, tries to imagine seeing her fully naked

Soft, warm and malleable; what he wouldn’t give to be able to touch her

What he wouldn’t give for the chance to eat her out, to have her hips rocking against his face as she tenses up and screams his name as she cums

He makes a low, husky sound without meaning to, increasing the pace of his hand over his pants to match the speed she’s using on herself

She grows closer and closer to release, judging by her louder, more eager moans and the way her whole body seems to be glowing

But then, right as it looks like she’s about to cum, she stops abruptly, her eyes flashing open like something’s interrupted her moment of bliss

Jack stops as well, freezing in place

Did she see him?

Did she somehow sense that she’s being watched, and it pulled her out of the moment?

He swallows thickly, trying to slink further back into the shadows

Guilt knots in his chest as he pulls his hand away from his needy cock

He shouldn’t stick around to see if he’s been caught—fuck, he shouldn’t have been peeking through her window in the first place

But despite his best judgment, he doesn’t leave

He stays rooted in place, curiosity getting the better of him

And then he watches as a mix of guilt and confusion flash across her face, not too dissimilar from what he’s feeling right now, and then, with a worried look, she stands and makes her way to the bathroom

He can’t see anything more when she closes the door behind herself, so he’s ultimately left with two options; either stay there like a sick kind of perv with an obvious boner, or call it a day and retreat home

He votes for the latter

Try as he might to forget about what happened on his way back to the mansion, he just can’t

She’s all he can think about

Those sounds she made—just barely audible through the window, the perfume of her arousal, the look of bliss on her face—he can’t—he doesn’t want to forget

He tries to act as inconspicuous as possible when he walks through the double doors of the mansion, and then he's quietly making his way through the various corridors of the haunted building

When he’s finally back in his room, he shuts the door behind himself and thinks, Fuck

He doesn’t know what to do

He’s so pent-up

His sight drifts to his bed, and he considers finding relief the most obvious way he can

But with the memory of her touching herself firmly locked in his mind, he’s worried it’ll trigger a heat—something he actively tries to avoid as much as possible

Hunt

He hasn’t eaten in a while, and it’s probably aggravating his instincts

He should go for a hunt

Not wasting a second longer, he grabs the few things he needs, and then he’s going back down through the mansion and heading out through the same doors he walked in through

The whole way to the nearest big city, he can’t stop replaying the scene over and over again in his head

She looked so divine—she smelled so delectable

His mouth salivates at the memory, and he silently prays eating will be enough to satiate his hunger for her body, even though it’s starting to seem like a long shot, at this point

As usual, he maneuvers his way to the wealthier neighborhoods, then follows his nose to the most appetizing scent

While there are usually more meats to choose from in the slums of the city, he could never forgive himself for taking from people who already have so little

The wealthier, he’d decided long ago, could probably more easily afford healthcare for whatever damages he does to their systems

His instincts lead him to a decently-sized apartment complex, which he manages to slip in with relative ease

The interior is a wide open space with carpeted floors, beige walls, and an elevator at the front and center of it all

He spots a few cameras here and there, but with his hood thrown up over his head to cover his mask, he isn’t too worried about raising alarm—if there even is someone up so late to watch the cameras

And after the many, many years of sneaking into places he shouldn’t be allowed in, getting caught isn’t something he worries about anymore anyways

Opting to stay away from the elevator, he instead takes the stairway at the far left of the building, and lets his senses guide him all the way up

He reaches the fourth floor, where the scent seems to be the strongest, then makes his way through the hallway until he comes across the right door

With a simple credit card trick, he unlocks the door, slips inside, then quietly turns the lock behind himself

Even though it’s completely dark inside, he can still see perfectly fine, so he has no trouble maneuvering around the kitchen and to his victim’s room

Door left wide open, he can see the shape of a woman’s body under the covers, her breathing slow and steady in her sleep

He steps through the threshold of the door, then gently makes his way to her side

He’s about to administer the sedative, when he notices her hair is the same length, color and texture as (y/n)’s hair

He pauses in his tracks, taking a closer look at her

Fuck, even the shape and size of her body are similar

For a split second, he almost wonders if it’s somehow her

It’s not possible, and he knows it’s just his mind playing tricks on him, but he wants it to be real

He wants it to be her so that he can pull her body against his and press his mouth to her skin before tasting her—tasting all of her

The idea snaps him out of his hunter’s trance, but he quickly tries to shake the thought away

He shouldn’t get distracted

He presses the needle in, piercing through her skin, and she makes a low, quiet noise from the back of her throat in an unconscious response to the intrusion

Crap

Immediately as she does, he’s flooded by a wave of perverse desires

What if he made (y/n) moan like that—moan so much louder than that?

Coupled with the view he had of her just a very short while ago, it’s enough for him to lose focus and fuck up the injection

It’s just a split-second mistake, but it’s more than enough for the woman to wake up

He hasn’t fucked up in so long, it actually surprises him just as much as it surprises the woman that there’s a masked figure standing over her bed

When he manages to gather himself, so does she, and while he’s panicking between either talking her down or restraining her to finish the injection, her survival instincts kick in

He doesn’t expect her to act so quickly

He especially doesn’t expect her to grab the lamp from her nightstand and smash it into him

With a grunt, he stumbles back, dazed by the impact, and it gives the woman the perfect chance to scream, throw something else at him—a book, this time—and then jump out of her bed and make a run for it

He can’t reach her before she rushes through the door because of the bed acting as an obstacle, and when he manages to catch up to her, she slams the bedroom door against him

He stops it before it can knock him into a daze again, but doing so grants her just barely enough time to get to the kitchen and pull out a knife

Great

Between fight, flight or flee, it seems she’s chosen to fight—the most tedious instinct to deal with

Both hands tightly clutching the knife in front of her, she stands in front of him, courageously blocking him even despite the way she’s shaking

He can smell the fear and adrenaline pumping through her system

“What—what do you want?”

Her voice is uneven, panic clogging her throat, and there’s a wild look in her eyes, like that of a trapped animal

He doesn’t bother answering

He simply takes a menacing step forwards

He, again, doesn’t expect her to mimic that step and then try to violently slash the knife into him

Her movements, however, are clumsy and inexperienced, so it isn’t difficult for him to catch her wrist and block her attack

And with one final step closer, he jams the needle into her neck and finishes the injection

She croaks, making a horrible choking sound as he drains the remaining sedative inside her veins

Her body goes limp as she slowly loses muscle control, and he finally drops his guard, letting himself relax as the situation returns under control

He catches her before she falls to the floor, and holding her in his arms like that, so up-close and personal, gives him as much time as he wants to properly inspect her features

She’s, admittedly, pretty, but she doesn’t nearly hold any of the subtleties or fine details that make (y/n) so appealing

She doesn't even compare to (y/n)'s perfection

Still, the whole thing has him thinking about what it’d be like if it was (y/n) he was holding instead of just some random woman

If (y/n) was in his arms, her face just inches away, what could really stop him from pressing his lips to hers if he wanted to?

He, again, imagines her taste, her body flush against his, her moans and whimpers and expressions as he touches her, as he pleases her

He gets too distracted again, too lost in his fantasies, and he doesn’t even think to consider that the syringe might not have been as effective with only half of it properly injected

Because with one final struggled breath of effort, the woman reawakens, jerks her arm up, and the knife still clutched in her hand plunges into Jack’s ribs

He hisses, letting her fall to the hard wooden floor as he stumbles back

Pain bursts through his chest, knocking the wind out of him

He reaches out to the hilt where blade meets flesh, and he grunts as he feels the familiar warmth of blood rush to his wound

Shit

Even though he desperately wants to yank the damn thing out, he has more than enough medical knowledge to know that he shouldn’t

He looks at the girl, now fully passed out in a heap on the floor, and debates whether or not he should even bother to extract her organs at this point

Fuck it, it’s not even worth it

His hands won’t be as steady as usual, and he could very much so risk injuring her—more than he otherwise would’ve

He’s caused enough damage as is

He looks back at the wound again, debates the chances of his body healing faster than the risk of major blood loss if he pulls it out all at once

But she really didn’t miss her target, and the wound is deep

Blade buried all the way to the hilt, the damn thing must be at least five to six inches, and he can’t really tell if it punctured any crucial organs

Relax, he thinks, just relax and think things through

He needs to get out of here, he decides, it’s his first priority right now

This whole thing is bound to get even messier if he waits too long

With a grunt, he pulls himself together, standing and straightening himself out, and then he makes for the door to the hallway

He closes it behind himself, praying he won’t run into anyone on his way out, because he just can’t imagine they’ll have a positive reaction to seeing some guy wandering around with a knife in his gut

But, of course, just his luck, as he turns a corner down the hallway, he nearly bumps directly into someone

Jack tries brushing past them before they see anything, but despite his best efforts, he can’t conceal the injury, and he hears them gasp as they notice his predicament

The stranger’s about to rush forward to help, but when Jack looks up, the sight of his faceless mask and dripping eye sockets make them scream

In a heartbeat, the stranger turns and runs, leaving behind the all-too-familiar scent of stress, fear and adrenaline in their wake

Great, just fucking great

He tries to move faster through the building after that interaction

The pain is, thankfully, manageable, thanks to his body’s natural resilience, but by the time he's made it back down to the first floor, his rushed movements have only further aggravated the wound

And it’s starting to hurt like hell

Still, even once out of the building, he doesn’t give himself a chance to rest

No doubt that guy called the police by now

He doesn’t have time to waste

He slinks into the shadows of the neighborhood, thankful for the fleeting cover of nightfall, even as the horizon begins to turn pale

And then he makes it to the one place he can think of going

(Y/n) wakes up to the sound of rasping at her door

She opens her eyes, and lays there for a second or two, wondering if she just dreamt up the noise or if it was actually real

And, without fail, the sound returns, like something grating against the wooden framing of her door

She gets up, tentatively pushing her covers off, then makes her way to the front of her house

It’s in the very earliest hours of the morning, maybe around five or six, so she can’t imagine whatever’s behind her door is anything but trouble

A lump forms at the back of her throat at the thought

Again, the sound reverberates in her house

Her heartbeat spikes, nerves jumping to high alert

She tries to take a peek at what’s behind her door by craning her neck to look out the window

But the angle just isn’t right, and she can’t properly see anything

Again, the noise rings out, but it almost sounds quieter, more hesitant, this time

(Y/n) tries to swallow down her anxiety

With a shaky hand, she wraps her fingers around the doorknob and slowly turns it open

Even though, at this point, she should probably expect it to be him, she’s still surprised when she comes face-to-face with the person at her door

“Jack?”

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #crp

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ragingbookdragon · 11 months

Text

There’s not much to see in between the minute slits of the burlap sack thrown over her head, but she still strains to see anything and everything that she possibly can. The men holding onto her arms dig their fingers into her arm, a bruising grip that is in part her fault as continually digs her feet into the ground and struggles with something fierce. Ghost is behind her, can feel it, even if he hasn’t said a single word. She on the other hand hasn’t stopped spitting fire every chance she gets, venomous threats and cold warnings.

It’s only until she’s shoved down onto a seat, arms tied behind her back with her legs bound too that the hood is harshly yanked off and she shuts her eyes at the bright light above her, much like driving on the road at night and being blinded by powerful LEDs. As her vision clears, she sees the captors who’d managed to get the jump on her and in turn, capture Ghost as well, and he’s in the same position as she is, but there’s definitely more rope around him than there is her. She snarls at them when they come close, baring her teeth in a way that says, “touch me and lose a finger.”

“What do you want from us?” she gripes, voice devoid of any emotion but annoyance.

“Answers,” the leader asks. “You know where the resistance is hiding out.”

The second one crosses his arms over his chest. “Tell us where their headquarters are.”

She spits down at their feet. “Suck my dick.” A moment, a pause before a backhand sends her careening to the side, chair tipping slightly and she growls, turning back to face him with blood dripping down her split lip; she licks it, the wound stings but it burns in a way she likes. “Your dad hit me harder than that last night,” she cracks back, and the man grabs at her chin, hauling her upright until they’re nose to nose.

“I will make you scream in ways you’ve never imagined.”

“That’s what I told your mom before I—”

His other hand reaches for her combat vest, and she thrashes as he undoes it and yanks it open; he’s centimeters from the thin tank top she wears and only then does Ghost make a single noise, the scraping of a chair, fingers clenching white on the arm rest as he snarls, “Touch her and I’ll fucking smear the goddamn walls with you.”

It’s not a threat. It’s a fucking warning. One not to be ignored.

The man pauses, looks to the side, sees Ghost’s golden eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. His breathing isn’t labored. It’s calm. Deadly calm. And the man, taking in the sunken nose of Ghost’s full-face mask, the raised skeletal plates, decides perhaps this isn’t a fight he really wants neither then nor later.

He lets her go and she sinks back into her chair, but Ghost’s eyes don’t leave the man even as he slinks behind his commander. The ropes at his wrists strain under Ghost’s flexing forearms and she hums low in her throat.

“Easy,” she murmurs. “Not here.”

This time Ghost eyes both of the enemy captors, and he answers, a barely-contained, seething rage in his chest and out of his throat, “I’ll fucking kill any bastard that touches what’s mine.” He snarls beneath the mask, and she feels it deep in her chest, the sound reverberating through her. “I’ll fucking rip your guts out through your back. Touch her again. I dare you.”

This time, even the commander shifts nervously on his feet, and he clears his throat in an exaggerated fashion to ease whatever fear is ebbing in his stomach as he turns to the second and says, “We’ll come back with more questions.”

“Don’t keep us waiting long,” she retorts, watching them leave and as the door shuts and locks, she reaches out, brushing her fingers against Ghost’s knuckle and all at once, he relaxes his grip. “Easy, Simon,” she calms, and he lets out a single deep breath.

“I don’t like people touching you.”

“You can’t kill everyone who does,” she jokes, and he looks over at her, his eyes glinting in the light, a solid ring of gold around a deep pit of a void; her throat dries up at the beastly hunger in them, but no fear is in her heart, in fact, quite the opposite.

“I’m the only one allowed to fucking touch you.” He looks down at the silver necklace on her chest. “You’re mine. All. Fucking. Mine.”

She swallows thickly, the S dangling at the apex of her throat feeling like a branding, but it doesn’t hurt, she loves the burn, craves it, wants to drown in it—in him. “Yeah, Simon,” she breathes, heart pounding in her chest. “I’m all yours.”

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homicidal-slvt · 1 year

Note

Yandere Brahms with his female S/O finally moved away from him far away. He would find her no matter how far away like countries. He realized he loves her more than everyone he meets even more than Greta.

"Anywhere For You"

Brahms Heelshire x GN|Y/N

Warnings: Trauma, Angst, Yandere

Brahms paced back and forth his feet heavy against the creaky floor boards, replaying the situation from a few months ago over and over in his head.

You had escaped him... The person he felt the safest with had ran away. Someone he treasured more than even Greta.

You had filled the void in his heart in a way no one else did, the warmth within you coating him in such a sweet sensation, yet he had you caged like a desperate bird.

You had finally got the chance to take flight and you took it, leaving him behind with furniture turned and objects smashed. He threw one hell of a tantrum when he awoke to find you gone.

No. He wasn't going to let you go. Not like this.

He's never felt like this for anyone before, he was willing to chase you to the ends of the earth if he had to. Anywhere for you.

You were sitting on the bus with your ear buds in, quietly listening to some music when you caught a glimpse of a tall figure behind you. Naturally because of the trauma you faced, your first assumption was 'BRAHMS?!?'. However when you whipped your head around you spotted a normal man just relaxing into his seat... Of course.

You were so far away from Brahms Heelshire and that wretched manor now... But those memories haunted you, slinking their way into every crevice of your life.

If you heard a mysterious thud your whole body would tense and you'd grab the nearest weapon, only to find it was simply a box that toppled over because you left it setting on the very edge of the shelf.

Sometimes you'd awake in the middle of the night and were convinced you heard something in the walls... There wasn't anything but that didn't fix the issue.

Finally you gave in and went to therapy and after awhile you finally began to feel settled. You felt safer. He couldn't hurt you anymore.

You were washing the dishes and humming along to a fun little bop in your head when suddenly you heard a familiar child-like voice... Certainly it was just your mind playing tricks on you.

Thud Thud Thud

You knew that sound of footsteps anywhere, plate slipping from your hands and crashing to the floor, shattered pieces scattering.

No, it can't be...

Before you could reach for a knife a pair of strong arms embraced you from behind, pinned up against his broad muscular chest, you could feel his heavy breathing.

His masked face pressed into your hair, breathing in your scent desperately.

"I missed you."

It was no longer the childish voice, it was a far deeper and gruffer one, his real voice slipping through. How could this happen? How did he even find you?

His grip grew tighter and it was hard to breathe, you swore he might even crack your ribs if he kept this up.

"Brahms... You're hurting me..."

You didn't receive a verbal response, he only emitted a soft grunt that rumbled from deep within his chest.

He finally got you back and he wasn't letting go.

This time there wasn't a chance at escape.

This little birdies wings were going to be clipped.

{More Content}

#brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelshire x you #the boy 2016 #brahms heelshire #slashers x reader #slashers x you #yandere brahms #yandere slashers #brahms heelshire angst #slashers angst #vee's slasher works

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 8 months

Text

A CROW'S CARRION COMFORT (X)

|| COV MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER XI ||

PAIRING: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 4.3k

WARNINGS: Banter, angst, death, guns, violence, plot lines coming together, mentioned insomnia/nightmares, wounds, mentions of stitches & blood, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You stare at the phone blankly, unblinking eyes in the darkness of your room stiff. At all sides, the shadows bleed away from the light of the device as it shows the small icon of an ongoing call—the picture void of any personalization, just a plain circle. Your eyes blink, and the voice that had been speaking comes back into your ears like a far-off murmur.

“I swear on your mother’s life I didn’t mean to do it like I did, Kid.” That Jersey accent makes your lips thin. “My daughters mean the world to me, see? I ain’t shittin’ you when I say you remind me of ‘em. I…I can’t stand to see one of my girls hurt.”

Hector had a fast and hurried tone, and your phone sat on the coffee table unaffected—the door to your room closed and fastened shut in a lie that you were getting dressed for bed. It hadn’t been more than ten minutes since your outburst out back; Gaz and your… reconciliation? You didn’t know if that was the word, but it was the best you could come up with at the moment.

Your lips don’t speak, and your face feels void of blood.

“Kid,” Hector gets more desperate. “You don’t understand, alright? My girls mean so—”

You slap the red icon and his voice cuts out as if it were never there.

Staring at your phone, you listen to the house as your mother’s voice wafts in through the vents, a roar and wave from an ocean with garbled words you can’t make out. Bringing a hand to your face, you slowly rub up and down; pushing back the weight as your fingers dig into your eye socket.

A knock echoes off the walls.

“...You alright in there?” You blink, slightly shaking your head. It was like the Sergeant had a radar on him—telling him whenever you were doing something other than what you’d told him.

It struck you that this time, it didn’t dig so much into annoyance as it did some deep part of yourself that somewhat appreciated it.

“Be out in a minute,” your voice calls and a firm tap to the wood moments later lets you know he heard; footsteps going back across the hall to his room.

From there you do your normal routine—a shower, a quick brush of your teeth even if you were going to be grabbing food at midnight anyway, and pajamas. Nothing more than a large oversized shirt and sweats.

Feeling a chill up your spine, on the way out after grabbing your laptop and the attached USB, you snag a blanket as well, unwilling to put your dirty jacket on even if your fingers twitch to fiddle with your coin. Throwing the fabric over your shoulder, you push open the door and slink across the hall to enter Gaz’s room; the lights there dimmed, and the twin lamps shone a warm glow.

Eyes flinching a moment, you sigh as the man looks up from where he’d been leaning against the frame of his bed. When he sees you, he pushes off and blinks carefully. There’s a tight moment of silence that borders on awkwardness.

“All squared, then?” The Brit asks, and you toss your chin.

He was wearing gray sweatpants and a navy compression shirt, small white accents in the stitching; his hat was on the nightstand. Not letting your eyes wander, though it was, horrifically, hard not to do so when every muscle and dip was on display, you loosely passed him your laptop with one hand.

“Suppose,” your voice eases out, eyes flicking at the sounds from downstairs—moving furniture and such. You wondered if your mom had enlisted Alex to do her grunt work, and you have to comment internally that he isn’t getting paid enough for that.

Kyle watches you before softly taking the laptop, glancing down at the USB still stuck in it before he sighs under his breath. He places it down on the bed, feet shifting.

The man wasn’t one to pry into things where he didn’t feel he belonged or it wasn’t his duty. Your personal affairs weren’t a part of this, but somehow, somewhere along the line, you’d managed to intertwine them like a jumbled pile of cords. Tonight, the pond out back and the willow trees…Kyle’s eyes dart to your injured palm; where the skin is bare and soft from your shower.

Without a word, he walks to his duffel bag and takes out his med kit, nodding his head to the desk chair near the back wall firmly.

“Let’s get that hand re-wrapped properly, eh?” He watches as your tired body waits for a second more. “It’ll get infected if I don’t keep an eye on it.”

You pause, and for some odd reason, an embarrassed heat builds in your cheeks.

“Y-You don't have to do that,” your voice stutters, eyes jumping from his throat to his under eye before they settle on the wall behind his head. Kyle’s brows furrow, med kit slightly lowering in his hand as he studies you in confusion. “It’s not…that’s not…”

Your lips are thin, jaw clenching. But Gaz isn’t as clueless as he was when he first got you under assignment, he rubs at the back of his neck once and begins walking over slowly.

“Spitfire?” He levels earnestly. You wait, blanket shielding your form. A hand is extended in front of your face, and you blink down at it. “Let me help.”

Right about now you’d fire a quick insult his way—tell him to mind his own business and slink off to your room; you would have reasoned that was what he deserved. But, damn him, he seemed to know that you craved some semblance of a warm touch, craved to keep that comfort from just a tiny while earlier.

The scene under the willows had changed something fundamental in your brain. Had taken the bits of what remained and sewn a fraction together. Like a reluctant recipient, you had allowed him in on the basis of your own gnawing guild—had spilled over like a glass of water.

Yet, you admitted that for once in your three long years, crying hadn’t felt as much of a curse when his head was sitting atop yours.

With a lick of your lips, you slowly set your hand into Kyle’s palm—silent as a mouse.

“Thank you,” he says, earnestly, before his fingers lightly curl over your own and he gently pulls you over to the desk chair.

Kyle sits you down softly, kneeling like he had the first time you found yourselves in this position, and places the med kit on the floor before twisting your hand.

“Any pain?” He asks as if talking about the morning paper.

You have to wonder if he feels as awkward as you do—like you’re inhabiting another’s skin and pupating it, nothing but a marionette doll. It’s as if now since there’s nothing to bark or argue about, you’re rendered…mute.

Kyle calls your name and you blink, gaze moving to the side of his mouth.

“Yeah?” You breathe out softly, still hearing the noise from downstairs. The Brit’s hands squeeze yours once, and you nearly shiver like a fool.

“Do the cuts hurt?” Brown eyes narrow slowly, tilting his head. “I have pain medicine in my bag if it does. Most it’ll need now is just some tight bindings. No use with more stitches, the worst of it has pulled back together.”

“They’re fine,” you whisper, flexing the hand. “Gaz,” your curiosity leaks in, and perhaps a bit of your boldness.

The man hums under his breath as he grabs gauze and bandages. Your eyes stare into his scar.

“Can I have his journal back?” You expected a quick and firm ‘no’ to roll off his accented tongue, but after a minute of his careful yet attentive eye, a smirk flashed on his lips. Amusement fills the air.

“Oh, you mean the one you broke into a museum to steal?” Gaz raises a brow in mocking question. “That journal?”

Your lips huff out, “Yes, Sergeant, that journal.”

“I suppose I shouldn't mention the unconscious security guard that was found in the hallway along the way, then?” He chuckles. “He’s fine, by the way.”

“It would be best if you didn’t.” On your face, your lips fight a smile at the banter—the still pounding flesh under your eyes going to the back of your mind from the crying and the fatigue. Your voice is still raspy from sobbing.

Gaz shakes his head, smiling with white teeth. “If there’s a handful of things I’ll never understand, Spitfire,” he squeezes your hand one last time and stands up; your gaze following the small inhale he takes in his chest. “I think it’s safe to say you’ll always be one of them.”

You chuff a laugh, stifling a yawn on your lips, as you push out, “Rich, coming from a guy whose file says he prides himself on understanding ‘even the finest details.’”

The memory of the cafe, the first real meeting of the two of you, flashes through your heads. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“Still can’t believe you bloody threw a pack at my head,” Gaz murmurs, rubbing at the back of his head as he walks away. He points a finger back at you as he flips and begins walking backward to the nightstand, you roll your eyes at him. “Head might still be ringing, you know?”

“If only,” you grumble, smirking. “I'd have been surprised if that was enough to bring you down. Pleased, but surprised.”

“Hell, so would I,” Gaz admits with a grin. “Not a bad arm, though.”

“Thanks,” you joke with a raised brow, standing as the man opens the drawer and digs a hand inside. “I use it to slap air vent covers into unsuspecting security guards.”

His laughs echo off the walls, and the noise momentarily stops downstairs; he covers his mouth with his forearm to try and hide it, but the sound itself makes your lips pull back in a pleased grin. You giggle tinily at his reaction, face going heated.

“Fucking hell,” Gaz shakes his head, smiling wide as he stares at you. His throat bobs in a swallow. “So this is a pattern I need to be aware of, then?”

“Oh,” you tease, face pulling in.“One hundred percent.”

“Christ, Love.” Your father’s journal comes to light from the confines of the nightstand drawer, and it’s like all of the strange joy is sucked out of the air like a spell of smoke and mirrors.

Your lips pull back down to a thin line, blinking at the black leather and the bulk of wrinkled pages. Kyle feels it too, shifting his jaw for a moment before clearing his throat. Along the sides of the object, his fingers tap twice.

“You know I can’t let you have it,” he says, voice firm but begging you to understand his position. You do know that.

Already your forked tongue is begging to be let loose—to snap and release venom. But your eyes hurt, and the night is long; there are so many more important things to think over than how to make this man miserable for just doing his job. You imagine he does that to himself more than enough if the confessions by the pond meant anything in the long run.

There’s just so much that hurts, and you can’t figure out a way to make it stop.

You rub at your face and grumble out a tired, “Yeah.”

Kyle sighs, looking away for a moment before he filters his gaze back. His foot shifts. “Guess that just means we’ll have to go through this shite together then, eh, Spitfire? You said the USB was password-protected?”

You stare with parted lips as he puts the journal down on the bed, taking your personal laptop instead and flipping it open to the screen while the stick blinks to life. A swift brown glance is spared towards the chair.

“Password-protected, right?” You nod in a soft jerk of your head, suddenly unable to look at the man as he blinks at you, shrugging.

“It’s late,” Gaz looks you up and down—tilting his head as he also pulls out the other item from the nightstand, the laptop from the museum. “I’ll try my hand at finding something, but until you get some rest and come back, I’ll stick to skimming the—”

You interrupt him.

“I’m not going to be sleeping tonight,” your body pushes you up, and you stalk over to the bed slowly while pulling the blanket farther up your shoulders. The bindings on your hand are tight and sure.

Kyle pauses as you take the journal, watching you with a furrow in his dark brows. He lets you explain as you feel his digging gaze—curious but confused. You clear your throat, flipping open the first page of your father’s life like that was all he was; words on thin paper, the indent of a pen nib.

“Nightmares, remember?”

“Yeah,” Gaz answers, “I just didn’t…” He pauses, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

You both stand shoulder to shoulder, looking down at the laptops as the man lowers the first back to the comforter with a puff of air. The item in your hand you turn over to the first page—dated on a day you knew all too well. Your birthday. Your first birthday. Inside of your chest, your heart tightens.

Your father had started journaling the very day you were born.

You snap the journal shut and turn to sit on the edge of the bed, pushing out, “Do you ever wonder what your life would have been like if your dad hadn’t become a soldier?”

Kyle startles, eyelids blinking quickly. “W-what’s that,” he stutters, looking down at you in shock.

“Your dad,” you say slower, mocking almost before your voice once more fades back to a genuine question. “If he hadn’t…I don’t know, if he hadn’t made the decision to sign that enlistment form, do you think you’d have become anything different? You said you took after him, I’m just wondering.”

“Yeah,” he’s confused at this, going to cross his hands over his chest and stare at you as your mouth takes down a deep breath before re-opening the journal and skipping the first few entries entirely. “I…couldn’t really tell you. Haven't thought about it like that, I suppose.” Gaz’s fingers lightly dig into his biceps. “Why do you ask, Love?”

You shrug, eyes scanning memories.

“It’s like we’re all just shadows of what our parents were. Trying to carry on a legacy that died with them before they could ever complete it. It’s…funny, I guess.” Your lips take down a breath. “I tried so hard to become my father that I feel like I’m falling down the same pit he did.”

“You’re better than that,” Kyle reassures immediately, taking a step closer to the bed.

“You don’t know that,” your voice counters.

Instinctual self-preservation kicks in, leaving your throat tight with the knowledge you should stop talking. On the roof, there begins the slight pitter-patter of rain. Talking to him, it seemed, had suddenly become addictive—perhaps it was because there was truly no one else who could offer you advice like he could. After all, he’d been there through all of it. You just had to say it.

“I need you to understand my position here.” you skim over your father’s account of your third birthday and the cake you’d gotten; two layers decorated with your favorite cartoon characters. Your eyes flicker away to stare at the man’s chest, at the cross of his arms.

Kyle grunts under his breath but can appreciate the level-headedness you’re coming to him with. This was a conversation he could have—so much better than a round of insults from both parties and the hidden glares.

“I understand it,” he admits, nodding once. “Through all of it, I always have.”

Inside of your chest, your heart sputters. “Good,” you cough out and a moment later you’re changing the subject, fingers hot as Gaz looks away for a moment. “The USB had a limited number of password attempts—there’s only two left.”

Brown eyes glance over the room, sliding past furniture and the old creaking of the walls.

“Then we don’t try anything until we have something narrowed down, yeah?” Kyle, after a second of hesitation, moves over to your form and sits beside you on the bed, moving your father’s laptop onto his legs. “We leave it alone for now…” He side-eyes you. “I take this, you take the journal?”

“Shouldn’t you be sending this off to an analysis team or something?” You interject, not complaining but cashing in on the fact that if you get him to speak to you, your head will stop spinning. Gaz’s scent pools in your nose like perfume, and you wonder if you can ever separate that scent from the press of his head above your own; the dig of his fingers as they kept you to his neck.

That steady pulse.

“Yeah,” that boyish charm returns as if it were second nature. “But the way I see it, Spitfire,” his shoulder bumps yours and you’re surprised you don’t immediately flinch away. “I’ll be saving my own neck if I don’t. Figured you’d have ransacked my room by now.”

Your nose releases a puff. “Was about a day away.”

“Knew it,” he mutters, smirking. “But, no, I will be calling in a team and writing up a report. Just…not right now.”

“I’m flattered,” you sarcastically comment. Yet, you really were. It’s…nice to be able to speak like this. The sins of the past haven't been forgotten, and they won’t be, but right now there has to be something said for the simple existence of someone to joke with—to tease and spill secrets too. When did you last have that?

The rain patters far overhead as Gaz gets to searching, fingers tapping and his shoulder close to yours as you flip through pages slowly. The weight is back on your chest, but a portion has been chiseled off like a stone sculpture. Biting on your lip, your mind hones in on the details of the entries.

Months and years fly past in mere minutes, things that your mind calls to but can’t fully recall—when your father had gone on his business trip to California, the meteor shower when you were eleven. Even when you had broken your arm in middle school gym class. There were family secrets and drama. Apparently, you had broken a back window with a baseball when you were thirteen, which, despite all of it, made your eyes widen slightly like a child who had just stolen a cookie.

“Found something,” Kyle calls about half an hour in, moving through files and script down to the very base of the laptop’s components—you barely noticed, only blinking over when the thunder from outside makes you tense.

“Hm,” you hum, sitting up straighter as your eyes burn from the tiny written words. The blanket around your body keeps you in a cocoon, and somehow, Gaz seems even closer than he had been before.

A finger is pointed to the screen casually, one hand moving the cursor as your eyes stay on his cheek.

“Encrypted files—dozens,” you furrow your brows.

“How hard is it to break?” His lips pull thin.

“I’m not exactly an expert on it—” You take the laptop from him and roll your eyes.

“Garrick, I got into CIA databases,” the man’s sigh is all but seen on the airways, letting you do as you wish as he shakes his head. “All you had to do was ask.”

He huffs, grunting out, “Well, if you’d have let me finish, Love, I would have.”

“Then you should have just started with it.” A smirk pulls your lips. “Chop-chop, Sergeant, there’s no time to beat around the bush.”

You enter each individual line of the script, fishing like a hook in water for something out of place or a mere segment that didn’t feel right—each time you dig deeper, past firewalls that you have to wonder why were even there in the first place—you feel his eyes on you.

Gaz breathes quietly through his nose, not used to the way your vision eagerly skims the screen ahead of you as the minutes draw on into double digits; your sights trained like his are when behind a gun. You enjoyed this, he realizes with a tilt of his head. Enjoyed the thrill of breaking into something—the stab of achievement at…control. Kyle glances down at the bandages over your palm, and at the bags under your eyes.

Control. His lips slightly parted. It was the thing you always seemed to lack; the thing you never had to begin with.

Your words at the pond told him much, most of which he already suspected but hadn’t had the time to process with all the running around. Truthfully, the man didn’t know if you even knew it yourself, but it was painfully obvious that despite the history of this estate and the memories, you gained a sheen of mild fear every time you came home.

At the creaking, the nothingness—he could see it in your eyes.

You hated it here. You loved to hate it; to hate the darkness and the groaning frame, the neverending rush of water through the pipes like a tsunami amplified by the static silence.

For not the first time that night, the man’s chest tightens and he clenches his jaw to force down his stiff expression.

So many questions, so many things to say, but so little time.

“Got it,” you snap your fingers, bringing your legs up to fold on the bed, knee knocking into Gaz’s thigh. The both of you don’t care enough at that moment to move, and, in fact, the Sergeant’s body leans even closer—shoulder right behind yours.

Files alight on screen; a folder already opening for you as the script peels back.

“Now, what do we have—” The name of the overarching folder in the white bar makes you freeze, face going dead-still like something had just shot through you; a spark of shock making your eyes widen.

“Spitfire?” Kyle asks, face pulling closer as his fingers grab the side of the screen, turning the device somewhat his way. “What’s going…”

Brown eyes lock on the same item that yours are on and his heart skips a beat. Each MP4 file in that folder was dated, named, and either holding one of two letters: ‘A’ or ‘D’.

But the folder name. The dates all fall on the same as the red ink that had been in your father’s office, once a month, all detailing different entries into the museum. The fifteenth; the day he was always home, waiting to take phone calls but still…with you and your mother.

The name.

Chiyou.

Before Gaz can stop you, you’re clicking on the first file—dated on the fifteenth of September, 1999, and named ‘Randal Wolfe - D’. The video pops up, and your finger slams on the unmute button.

The screaming is the first thing you hear, but your eyes land on the man not even a millisecond later. Kyle’s eyes go wide, air stuck in his throat. It wasn’t smart, but neither of you could take your gazes away from the scene in front of you.

A man was tied to the ceiling by chains, hanging from his arms as his feet dangled. There’s so much blood, even the large pixels and the fuzzy recording can pick up the puddles of it, drops dripping to the floor. Your jaw falls open as your pulse mimics a war drum, lungs decreasing the amount of oxygen available to your brain.

He, this Randal Wolfe, is begging. Begging for his life just as the long arm enters the frame, a jet-black pistol held in its gloved grip with gold detailing. You stare at that gun and take down a violent inhalation, hands on the laptop shaking as the flick of a safety is lost below the wails and pleas.

“It’s not just a name,” Kyle breathes, stopped dead in his tracks even as his brain screams at him to move.

You stare in growing dread and horror, guts tightening inside of your abdomen and your fingers jerkily clenching into fists. So many files—so many names that had been cataloged like the storage room in the museum; laid out in alphabetical order. Execution tapes, extortion tapes, ‘D’ for dead and ‘A’ for alive, MP4s with cold evidence of the same caliber that Kate Laswell had been looking for, if the surroundings offered any clues as to secondary locations. Organized with the staples of a man dedicated to his work.

Work.

Chiyou. The way you now recognize the title is a curse, a stain that bleeds your soul black until nothing remains but a void. Why now? Why, out of all of the times to remember, why did it have to be now?

A Chinese mythological figure, now revered in a different sense. Your own father had taught you about him in passing, textbooks from school, and the large books in your own library. Stories that he’d read to you in front of a fire—rain similar to the storm outside battering the windows. A God of War. It was never just a name.

Your tongue is lead.

“...It’s a business.”

Kyle’s hand snaps the laptop closed just before the gun can be fired, the sound cut out as your eyes continue to stare straight ahead—knowing the boom and the spray of blood that came immediately after like the back of your hand.

The silence extends like purgatory and if you think hard enough, the dripping of crimson can be felt still on your face just as the sound of glass breaking from downstairs snaps your attention away.

TAGS:

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miss-nov · 20 days

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Phic Phight 2024: Lies and Smoke

Prompt by @vigilant-insomniac: "Aunt Alicia hasn't been to Amity Park in a long time, she regrets not visiting her niece and nephew sooner.

She knew her sister and her brother in law were the mad type of scientists, but she always imagined them drawing the line when it came to their kids. She should've known better."

The world around Alicia's car was nothing more than a tunnel of darkness. She released one clawed hand from the wheel to fidget with the radio knob. No matter what station she changed it to, she received only static. It buzzed waspishly in her ears. The road stretched endlessly.

Alongside the droning noise, echoed Jazz’s panicked voice. Alicia's hand returned its death grip on the wheel. Voices faded in and out from the radio. Snippets of conversations that soon faded into the void.

Would her sister really do that to her kids? To Danny?

Parents’ weren’t supposed to have favorites. Well, so the movies said. But her parents had favored Maddie and Maddie clearly favored her son. Not that Jazz was unloved, Maddie (and Jack) very much adored the kids. But the baby of the family would always be the baby.

She turned a corner. A green sign lit up by her headlights told her she only had 40 miles left. The dim, green lights from the clock on her dash glowed 3:26.

What the hell was she going to do when she got there? Jazz couldn't give much detail, too busy hyperventilating over the phone. God, it must be bad, really bad if someone as level-headed as her could barely speak.

She looked over at her first aid kit in the passenger. Would that even be enough? She tugged on her chapped lips with her teeth. In her rear view mirror she caught a glimpse of the dark colored towels in the back seat. It felt more like she was going to help dispose of a body more than anything. She hoped that wasn’t what she was doing.

…

She parked down the road. She briefly pressed her forehead to the wheel before unlatching her fingers. She gathered the towels and clumsily slinked to the alleyway by the house. Despite the sky lightening up, Fenton Works loomed over her. The windows were like slate; they were lidded over with curtains and the small gaps between revealed dark, indistinguishable shapes. The house was still like a held breath. Should she try the back door?

There was movement in one of the windows near the back.

That answered her question.

She went to the back door and waited. The door opened only a sliver and a wild, light blue eye darted out. It took an uneasy moment before the eye recognized her. The door swung open fully to reveal Jazz cradling Danny in her arms.

The first thing Alicia noticed was the blood. It matted his hair, dripped caresses along his chin, and rolled down his arms.

“We need to go now,” Jazz whispered harshly through clenched teeth.

She started to grab the towels from Alicia with one hand which startled her into action. She helped Jazz wrap him up in them. She nearly dropped him at one point from the shock of how light he was. His eyelids fluttered, but never fully opened. He didn't even groan.

She tried to help hold Danny, but Jazz clutched him close to her chest and urged Alicia to rush down the alleyway and to the truck. She slid into the backseat with her brother and held his head gingerly in her lap. Alicia's hands trembled as they turned her keys still stuck in ignition and started pulling away from the curb.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” Jazz started pulling her hair up into a ponytail. “He needs care. I didn't have time to do anything at the house.”

“Shouldn't we take him to a hospital? I know we're… getting away from your parents, but maybe one out of town?”

“No hospitals,” she replied sternly. “I'll explain more later. Just know that my parents wouldn't be the only people we would have to worry about if we go to the hospital.”

Alicia shivered and passed the kit over without taking her eyes off the road. A moment passed and she spoke again.

“We'll have to stop at some point. I've been driving all night and I don't know how much longer I can drive.” She rubbed her eyes and refocused them on the road.

“I'll take over, if that's alright with you. I'd really prefer if we made it to your house before my parents realize we're gone.”

Alicia caught a glimpse of Jazz pulling out wound wash and cotton pads in her rear view mirror.

“That’s fine with me. I trust you not to crash the truck,” she said lightheartedly.

It fell flat but Jazz smiled briefly.

…

After Jazz took care of Danny as much as she could and Alicia could barely keep her eyes open, the pair switched spots. Alicia settled into the backseat and rested her nephew's head in her lap. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, but she was determined to see the extent of his wounds before she nodded off. With a tenderness she couldn't remember the last time she used, she shifted the towels he was still blanketed in.

He was shirtless. She hadn't noticed that before. Then the bandages. They covered his whole torso. Already they were beginning to soak through. Oddly, the blood seemed to be one line up until it branched out on his chest. If she didn't know better, it looked like…

No. There's absolutely no fucking way. Her sister was eccentric. Not absolutely batshit insane!

The nausea was all consuming as she put the towels back in place. She pressed her eyes tightly closed like a child under a blanket. It was a long time before she could sleep.

…

The truck stuttered to a stop, jolting her awake. Jazz had already slipped out. Alicia quickly got out of the car to stretch and pop her back. When had she gotten so old?

Jazz shakily lifted Danny into her arms. Alicia knew better than to offer help this time. They made their way to the sagging porch which groaned forlornly. She unlocked the door and Jazz pushed past to set Danny down on the couch. Her fussing started immediately.

She adjusted him into what she must have deemed the most comfortable position before kissing his forehead. Her lips lingered and her brows furrowed. As if second guessing herself, she pressed the back of her hand to his head. Then her palm. Then along his temples and cheeks. She stood and trained her gaze on Alicia who still stood by the (now closed) door.

“He's burning up,” Jazz said with a barely concealed waver. “He runs colder than normal, but right now he's warmer than me.”

“I'll get a rag. Maybe some ice packs.” Alicia scurried off in relief. Finally, she could be useful.

She returned with the supplies. Jazz had removed most of the towels, leaving only one underneath him. She took the wet rag and placed it over his eyes and forehead. Next, she took the ice packs and strategically placed them around his body. Alicia stepped back so Jazz could stand from her kneeling position.

“Do you have a cooking syringe? We need a way to administer water and maybe blended food.” She redid her messy ponytail as she spoke. “Also, do you have any sort of antibiotics? I'm worried the fever is from infection.”

“I don't have nothin’ more than Neosporin. I think the best we can do right now is clean the wound with actual soap and maybe some heat,” she said as she scratched her chin. “As for a syringe, there should be one in the third drawer by the sink.”

Jazz nodded her head slowly, her eyes cloudy in thought. She went to the kitchen and started searching through the drawer. Alicia left her to it and went up stairs to grab her bar soap and a hand towel.

When she came back down, Jazz was already placing the full syringe between his lips and teeth. She'd allow a few drops before stopping. It would be no good for him to drown at this point after everything. Alicia went to the kitchen to retrieve her biggest bowl and filled it with hot water. She hovered over Jazz’s shoulder until she finished up.

Jazz put the syringe on the coffee table and reached for the bowl, towel, and soap. Alicia passed it over easily.

“Go take a nap. I promise I'll take one myself once I'm done cleaning Danny.”

Alicia grunted in agreement and trudged upstairs to her room. She barely took off her boots before she passed out on her bed, feet still hanging off the foot of it.

…

A shrieking ring startled Alicia awake. She rubbed at the drool on the side of her face and at her crusted over eyes. It was coming from her phone. She reached into her front overall pocket and answered it without looking.

“‘Ello?”

“Alicia!”

Her eyes bulged at the sound of her sister's frantic voice. Fuck.

“What's wrong?”

“Jazz is gone! And she took…. Look, are they with you?”

“Jazz and Danny? No.” She swallowed harshly and prayed that Maddie didn't hear it.

“Really?” Alicia could hear the furrow between her brows. “Well, if you do, stay away from Danny. It's not actually him. He tricked Jazz into thinking he is.”

There was a breathless sob on the other end.

“Al. I really need you right now,” she warbled. “I'm going through a tough time right now. I think it's better if I could tell you everything in person?”

Shitshitshitshitsh–

“Course, Mads.” Alicia mouthed fuck to herself over and over until Maddie spoke again.

“I'm giving you a heads up that I'm bringing Jack. I need him too. We should be there by tomorrow morning.”

“Okay.” Her fingers rhythmically clenched and unclenched around her phone.

“Love you, bye.”

“Bye.”

As soon as the call ended, Alicia threw her phone away from her. They were so fucked. She stood, checked her beside clock (had she really slept five hours?), and stumbled down the stairs as quickly as she could without eating shit.

“Jazz! Your parents are coming over. Your mom said they'll be by tomorrow morning. We're going to have to find somewh–” she froze.

Jazz had two fingers pressed tight to Danny's wrist. Stone still. She slowly turned to look at Alicia over her shoulder.

“He's not breathing. I can't feel anything.”

“Oh.” Alicia didn't know she could make a noise like that. Like she had been gutted.

Jazz lifted herself onto her feet, never letting go of Danny's hand. Her other one rested in his hair and slowly started stroking the ends.

“Listen, just… just go shower, okay? Then I'll shower. Then we'll figure out what we're going to do,” she murmured basically to herself.

Alicia nodded and clutched the wall for support as vomit rose to her throat. After a few steadying breaths, she choked it down. Call her a coward, but she was going to take any escape she could. It was all just too much too fast.

She bolted up the stairs and grabbed a soft, worn pair of jeans, a cotton t-shirt, and a pair of boxers. Her hands trembled the entire time, from turning the knobs to numbly scrubbing herself down. She didn't know how long she was in there, but by the end the water raised goosebumps along her flesh. She dressed herself quickly. A breath in, a breath out. She headed downstairs.

The couch was empty.

“JAZZ! JAZZ, WHERE ARE YOU?”

No response besides the mocking echo of her voice against the walls.

She rushed outside and skidded to a halt. Her truck was gone. Fresh tracks marred her dirt driveway. She stood there for a long time.

She walked the few miles to the nearest convenience store and back. She sat on her wilting porch which was sadder than usual and brought out her newly purchased lighter. She brought a cigarette to her lips, lit it, and smoked the first one she'd had in sixteen years. And she waited for her sister to come home.

#phic phight #danny phantom #phic phight 2024 #jazz fenton #danny fenton #alicia danny phantom

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hunting4fluff · 4 months

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Spider Bite

A fanfic requested by @dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss, the first out of 2 promises! Sorry for the inactivity, I recently started college and it's completely wiped the floor with me. Anyways, enjoy!

Fluff fic, 1,328 words Lee!Reader Ler!Miguel O'Hara CWs: none Finally, a day of reprieve.

You had been working hard all week to ensure the increasing anomalies in base were kept at bay and to say it was tiring would be a gross understatement. It had been alarm after rift after alarm, the blaring practically burned into your eardrums by now. You’d be lucky if you didn’t get tinnitus.

What does anyone do after a long, thankless week of being on call? Why, treat themself of course!

You had just entered the bustling cafeteria with countless spider-people swishing on webs and standing in lines to get their fill when you noticed a slight shift out the corner of your eye. Your spider senses weren’t tingling, but people were definitely moving out of the way which only made the shift in the air more unsettling. Whipping your head to stare at the commotion head on, you can’t help but smile at the situation. It was just Miguel.

People knew when he was in one of his bad moods- usually he would be trying to make small talk with certain groups, grab someone’s attention when he had a small comment about their work, but never really driving people away or chatting much. Today he looked absolutely foul, glaring off into the void as he grabbed a to-go box with a burger and slinking off to his office once again. It was always a good idea to leave him be when he was in one of these funks, but the look on his face stuck around long enough in your mind to make you want to check in on him.

You grabbed a to-go box for yourself and opened a portal, bouncing down onto the platform of Miguel’s ‘office’.

“What.” He grumbled out, hearing the soft thud and careful padding of your feet as you approached him. He saved his sharper tone for people he was less fond of, for now he just sounded tired.

“You’re in a fun mood today.” You point out, the playful smile evident in your voice as you hoist yourself up to sit on an empty spot on his desk. He spared you a glance and huffed, popping a fry into his mouth. “Aren’t you off work? Why are you still here?” He was avoiding the not-quite-question, so you of course answer then ask again.

“I wanted a meal and hopefully a conversation. What’s wrong?”

Miguel looked over at you before shaking his head with a defeated smile and rolling his eyes.

“Dios mío, you’re persistent.” He snorted, eating another fry. “Nothing, I just have one of those- what are the kids calling it? ‘RBF’s?”

You rolled your eyes at that, smiling as Miguel chuckled to himself.

“Yeah something like that.” You comment. Maybe he wasn’t in as bad of a mood as you thought.

“But since you’re here,” Miguel looked back at you, placing his food down in front of him and spinning his chair to face you. “I don’t think we officially completed your onboarding.” You blinked in surprise, quirking a brow. “Miguel, I’ve been here for three months.” You reminded him slowly, staring at him as if he had just lost his mind.

“Yes, I know that, but we skipped over a few details in your ‘canon events’ folder that I didn’t notice until a few hours ago. Lyla finally got to that part of the scan. Nada.”

Right. Of course, that made sense. You nodded your head and looked at him, waiting to continue. “Won’t take long. So, do you remember what kind of spider bit you?” He started, swiping up a screen and pulling up footage of your first canon event. The video was clearly inconclusive of the spider, the origin of it being unknown and making it harder to trace back to a definitive source. You remembered the spider crawled under your shirt and bit your side, leaving a nasty mark the first night before you had actually gotten your powers- but you had no clue what it looked like.

“I… dunno. It’s been a while and I crushed that poor guy when I was bitten.” You shook your head.

“Where?” It was an odd sounding question coming from Miguel, but his brain had worked faster than his words when it came spilling out. “Usually spider-people are bitten on the back of their hand, smacking it off for those who crush it. I would have been visible falling off your hand, but I can’t see it anywhere.“ He explained.

“Oh! Uh, somewhere on my side, like right here…” You gestured vaguely to where you remembered the spider biting- well, you remembered which side at least. Your left one.

“Alright… not super helpful…” He mumbled in thought, only for you to yelp in protest as he grabbed your side and held some sort of tool near it.

“Hey!”

“Hold still, I just need a quick scan.” He ordered. Still you squirmed. It tickled. Miguel shook his head and grabbed your side again, this time earning a short giggle. He stopped in his tracks and looked up at you, processing what had just happened as you stared back at him tensely. You only had about two seconds to even stare before he had sat down his tool and scooped you up into his arms with a playful grin.

“Ticklish, are we?” He teased, one hand scribbling lightly up and down your side with the edges of his nails. The movement earned only more squirming from you as well as fresh peals of giggles as you kicked and wriggled in his grasp. His fingers skittered up to your ribs, gently tweaking the bottommost one before crawling up to lightly poke just below your underarm and crawl down again and it left you howling with laughter.

“M-miguel!” You cried out, squirming harder in your ticklish frenzy and almost managing to writhe free before he shifted his arm to wrap around your waist and start tickling your side. You doubled over with laughter, kicking out in front of you and pushing at his arm all the while his other hand came up to gently scribble at the side of your neck.

“You know, normally I wouldn’t be so childish, but I’ve been needing a little pick me up this week.” Miguel teased. You bunched up your shoulders, peals of giggles pouring out of you just as his touch began to slow down. He let you rest as you slumped in his grip, residual giggles bubbling out as you caught your breath.

“I’m a little surprised you weren’t laughing this hard as that spider crawled to your side.” He pointed out, emphasizing his point by poking two fingers into your side a couple times and sending a jolt through you.

“Ehehe- quit it!” You whined at his teasing, your cheeks growing flush as you squirmed again. Miguel chuckled, shaking his head. “Ah, what? Quit this?” He began gently pinching your side up and down, pulling fresh laughter from you as you nodded your head.

“Yes- yehes! Quit thahat!” You managed to squeak out. His fingers remained pinched on your side but had stilled for the moment, but for some reason that was worse. The anticipation left you shaking and giggling, waiting for when he would start up again.

“Quit that…?” He prompted, his voice dripping with amusement as you awaited whatever fate become you.

“Please!” You spat out and Miguel relented, patting your side and finally releasing you.

“Certainly.” He snickered. You turned around and rubbed your sides, only to be greeted by Miguel’s grinning face- you can’t remember the last time he looked this happy, or even the last time he smiled. He put his hands up in faux surrender, shaking his head.

“I’m done, I swear.” He assured, and you relaxed a bit. “Let’s just finish our lunch.” He offered, sitting back down and picking up his to-go box in a gesture of good faith. Your food was still warm and it tasted delightful.

#hunting4fluff #tickle fluff #atsv tickle #sfw tickling #t word #sfw tickling community #miguel ohara fluff #fluff #tickle fic

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sailoryooons · 3 months

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The Underneath | pjm

☾ Pairing: Monster!Jimin x reader (gender neutral)

☾ Summary: “Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.” – Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil OR there is a monster under your bed and you've looked back at it for too long

☾ Word Count: 1,777

☾ Genre: Thriller, Horror in theory

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Just general creep vibes. A lot of this happens in the complete dark so if you don’t like descriptions of total darkness or inability to see, this one is not for you. Mentions of being alone, themes of sadness/depression (though not heavy). Jimin is pretty creepy in speaks in an eerie manner and calls reader ‘it’ a lot and refers to himself as ‘Jimin’ in the third person. Overall it’s just a weird one.

☾ Published: February 10, 2024

☾ A/N: Random creepy monster under the bed Jimin for this lovely Saturday morning. I actually was working on this last week when it was storming, which is why it’s giving the cheesy ‘It was a dark and storm night’ vibes lmfaooo. This Jimin is lowkey a little cute in my head cause he’s just this creepy lil monster under the bed who is like :/ I’m tired of you crying mf. This is for my fifth drable of the 100 Drabble Challenge and today I rolled for monster AU. Enjoy!

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Main Masterlist ☾ 100 Drabble Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾ Song Inspiration

“Holy diver, you’ve been down too long in the midnight sea,” you hum, tracing patterns in the condensation on the glass pane. It’s cool to the touch, sending goosebumps down your arm. Your forehead presses against the window, feeling the damp condensation clinging to it as rain beats on the other side. “Oh, what’s becoming of me?”

The tip tap of the rain matches the dappled shadows dancing across the room. The streetlight shining through the window is a weak glow, broken up by the shadow of your hand and the swaying tree branches as they bow under the wind.

Wind batters the house. The home creaks under the pressure of the wind. A crack of lightning dazes you and your eyes flutter, blinking away bursts of colors and stars as you try to adjust to the darkness of your room again. The electricity flickers, a deep-bellied groan of thunder chasing the lightning.

“Gotta get away, Holy Diver.”

You don’t know why that song. It’s the only thing that comes to you in the emptiness that slinks in on the heels of your sadness, a tune fit for thinking of nothing. Feeling nothing. Being nothing.

You don’t even remember the first time you learned the Dio tune.

“Like the eyes of a cat in the black and blue,” you mumble, the words catching over themselves as you become unfocused, vision blurring. You’re not really thinking of the song, but your lips move. They sound the words.

Lightning flickers again. This time the power fails, the salt lamp in the corner of your room blinks off and the fan in the corner goes dead. The quiet presses in like a physical thing, smothering you as you lean away from the window, spooked by the darkness that floods both inside and outside.

Spinning away from the window in your computer chair, your eyes scan the darkness. The furniture in your room takes on new forms. The lamp looks like something tall and vicious. The lumps of blankets and pillows on the bed look like bodies. The blank space under your bed looks like… something.

A mouth. A void. A thing.

Still, the song plays in your mind, an empty cycle of words and music that you can’t shut off. “Something is coming for you, look out!”

The back of your neck begins to tingle as your gaze settles on the blank darkness under your bed. Slowly, you claw your way from the depths of an empty mind to acute awareness, blinking away the daze and focusing only on the gap between the floor and the bed.

Like always, a razor-thin awareness carves its way through you, an instinct that something is there. Licking your lips, you squint as though it can help you see in the cloying darkness. Your eyes tell you that nothing is there, but the goosebumps and pins and needles sensation slithering down your spine tells you otherwise.

You don’t remember the first time you had the feeling that there was something under your bed. You just know it’s always happened, a preternatural awareness slipping into your mind and telling you to look.

As a child, you were always too afraid to look. As an adult, you cannot help but look, seeking out whatever lies in the dark, searching for whatever it is that wants to be seen.

There’s a hiss of sound. You cock your head. It isn’t enough sound to hear, exactly, but more like it’s the idea of a sound. Both a noise and nothing at all.

“You can hide in the sun 'til you see the light.” The words drip from your mouth unaccounted for. You don’t know what makes you mumble them still. “Oh, we will pray it's alright.”

There is something on your bed. You know it like you know there is a storm outside. You know it like you know to breathe air or like to blink.

Outside, the rain grows louder. There is no lightning to reveal what sits on your bed, but you stare nonetheless, trying to work out where it begins and ends. You think there is a shadow darker than others, but it’s hard to tell.

It doesn’t occur to you not to be afraid. There is a buzzing in your head making fear temporarily unavailable, like a cellphone too far to be in service.

“Why did it stop singing?” You sit straight in your chair. The voice comes from the direction of your bed, velvet soft and barely there. You strain to hear it over the pounding of the rain. “It has a lovely voice.”

“I… forgot I was singing.”

“It forgets that it is making sound?”

The voice is both one voice and a hundred. It feels as though it echoes in your mind, smoke slipping into your ears and filling your senses. Your daze grows stronger, making your lashes flutter as the whispers skim over your mind and skin like a tangible thing.

It fades after a moment, the silence following the sensation. You blink, staring into the darkness. You’re sure you can see a shadow sitting on your bed now, and though you can’t see eyes, you know it is looking at you.

“I was sad.”

“Was? Is?”

“Was.” You think about it and realize that you aren’t sad anymore. The void that you felt only moments earlier is gone. “Yeah, I was sad. Now I’m not.”

“How does it feel?”

“Better.”

“Good. It should be happy. I want it to be happy.”

“What are you?”

“Does it want to see my face?”

You hesitate. It isn’t fear that makes you pause. No, this thing has been in your room for as long as you can remember, though it’s never spoken to you before. You hesitate because you think you should be afraid and yet…

“I would like to, yes.”

Lightning lances and you flinch. You only see the thing - a person - on your bed for a split second, but it’s enough to memorize some of his features. Dark grey hair, an angular face with delicate cheekbones, an elegant nose that’s rounded at the tip, sensual lips that look pillow-soft and rosy, and siren eyes that could look into your very soul.

It’s the eyes you remember. Sleepy. Seductive. Piercing. Eyes like that are what great poets write about, what musicians make songs about. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you even in the dark, pinning you to your computer chair, your instincts buzzing.

You stare into the dark. The dark stares back, perhaps even more severely than before.

His presence is oppressive, you realize. It’s a physical thing, like a blanket of nettle pressing against you both mentally and physically, an itch you can’t scratch.

“You’re pretty,” you breathe.

“It may call me Jimin.”

“You can call me by my name. I’m not an it.”

Though you cannot see the creature - Jimin - you get the sense he’s smiling as he asks, “You will give me your name freely to use? Names are so powerful.”

“Yes, I’d prefer you to call me by my name.”

Jimin repeats your name back and the way he says it makes you shiver, rich chocolate dripping off of his tongue. Still, despite sitting in the dark and speaking with him in that hissing, purring voice of his, you’re not afraid, though… it feels like you could be. Like the fear is somewhere locked deep inside a mine, unable to find the path out.

“Why are you so sad? You’re always so sad.” The way Jimin asks the questions makes you lean forward. His voice is a soft call, the rise and fall of the tone and the softness of the whisper alluring. “Jimin doesn’t like it when you’re sad.”

“I… feel very alone. People always leave me.”

He hums. “You’re never alone. You know that though, don’t you?” You nod, unsure if Jimin can see you with those sharp, keen eyes. “Jimin has always been here.”

“I… felt you.”

“And you were not afraid?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I feel like I should be.”

Jimin hums and you can hear him move. The bed creeks as he shifts, though you cannot tell what he’s doing. The pressure of the air around you tightens and you think he might be walking toward you.

“You never have to be afraid of Jimin.” You can smell damp clove and petrichor as he approaches. Like darkness. Like rain. “What if Jimin told you there was a place for you where you would never be sad?”

You hesitate. Jimin is somewhere right in front of you. His body doesn’t radiate heat so much as it radiates energy, an otherness about him that is unfamiliar to you. Perhaps like the static that comes with lightning or the pounding of your heart that comes with adrenaline.

“I think I would like that.”

Cold fingers brush your hand. Jimin chuckles when you flinch and gasp. “No need to be afraid of Jimin. Come.”

Jimin tugs you. It’s gentle at first, but when you don’t move, too slow to catch up, it’s urgent. Worried. Hungry. Demanding. Jimin pulls you out of the seat, his grip turning to iron as he drags you across the room.

Though you’ve told him yes, your body reacts differently. You dig your heels in and lean back, tugging your arm. Your thoughts tangle, trying to get your body to follow him the way your mind wants, but it feels like you’re pressing up against bones and muscles that are unfamiliar, like you can’t get them to work. Like they aren’t yours.

You feel confused. Thoughts thick like cotton, you stumble after Jimin, legs locking and unlocking as you fight for the control to follow him. Jimin hums delightfully and pulls you to your knees, his hands on your shoulders as he giggles.

“Jimin will protect you,” he whispers, his breath fanning your face. It’s cloying sweet, freezing you to the spot as your syrupy thoughts turn solid and realize it’s your instincts making you stop. The fear is there at the last moment, shattering through the dizziness to claim you. “No more sad!”

“Wait-”

“To the Underneath we go. It will be with Jimin forever.”

Jimin gives a brutal pull. You feel your body slam to the ground, thoughts splintering as your head hits the wooden floor. The last thing you remember is the drag of your heavy against the floor, the heavy pressure of static on your skin, and Jimin’s haunting voice singing in the dark.

Like the eyes of a cat in the black and blue, something is coming for you, look out!

#jimin fic #park jimin fic #jimin bts fic #bts fic #bts fanfic #jimin x reader #jimin x you #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #monster jimin #100 drabble challenge

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rise-my-angel · 1 year

Text

Gentle Vulnerability

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Length: 17.1k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, implied past non descript sexual assault, portrayal of non specific trauma/ptsd symptoms, smut, oral (m and f recieving), p in v, sex is consensual but there are small moments of non descriptive trauma anxiety, flashbacks

Notes: This is a bit of a personal chapter, since its very much taken inspiration from my own traumas and does explore non specific long term effects of sexual assault but nothing is ever shown or described and the only smut is consenting and with Joel. This is a continuation of Trembling Havoc from my Confused Warmth series. But can also be read as a standalone.

It was possible being as quiet as you were wasn’t always a positive. Commonly, you would slink in and out of somewhere without being spotted and typically it was a skill used mostly in protection. You spent much time by yourself and the dangers around you rested easy thinking you were never there. It certainly helped when you needed to get into a building where your presence could inevitably lead to a confrontation. Move very little and say even less, that’s how you navigate a strategy of stealth.

That focus on staying quiet did though, sometimes take away your awareness of other approaching sounds. As you crouched down, one hand raised above steadying you on the hard surface, you had been so silent that you completely missed the sounds of steps and creaking floorboards until the figure was looming over the counter.

Your head snapped up, lucky that your hand only got as far as a tiny jilt before it registered the figure above you was just one mischievously smirking Ellie. Your eyes spoke disapproving but the rest of your face played a different tune. “You making it a habit? Sneaking up on people out here? Thought you were keeping watch for infected.”

Hand relaxing, you continued to rifle through the mostly useless array of junk on the lower shelves in front of you. “I thought you said that was your job.” This time your face fell much more flat as you glanced back to to her briefly.

The three of you had been into another building already, but it was picked over fairly decently of anything of use. Both times you had silently snuck in first to lure any out that may be hiding in the corners, though the first time Ellie clearly hadn’t expected you to kick over a large metal trashcan far onto the floor to do so. If the loud clang of metal didn’t grab anythings attention, then Ellie’s voice certainly would. “That’s your big secret? Just knocking things over?”

You had just smirked as you flashed your light around the main area. “I said it worked, not that it was clever.”

“So what do you do if you knock it over and there actually infected?”

Joel answered that one for you, “You get out of there and move on.” You just tilted your head in agreement, as both you and Joel quickly came to the conclusion of nothing being there as they spoke behind you. “Avoiding them’s better then risking a fight.”

The one you’re in now fared a tad better. Most surrounding towns were void of people typically in fear of infected, but that also meant they were less likely to be spread around all over. As long as you keep to the empty streets and quiet buildings, most of them were fine you found. The longer they went without people, the more likely they were to gather in groups and lay in waiting. Especially in cold like this.

Now you were crouched down looking at something Ellie had hidden from you. “Not much left with pharmacy stuff, I assume?” Your voice muttered as you glanced over the counter to see where Joel was looking. He himself was knelt down with his bag, clearly having more luck.

Ellie waggled her eyebrows to herself like debating her antics before drawling out her tone. “Well, there was one thing.” Tossing it finally at you, whatever was inside knocked around against the packaging. A flip of the box in your hands it took you a moment to register what you were looking at.

Only to deflate completely both at what you were looking at and her laughter. A very dust covered thin box painted in a light pastel that had faded over time. The words and image though bright enough to highlight that you were holding a pregnancy test kit.

Your face unamused to her opposite, you raised an eyebrow. Shrugging in an exaggerated manner she leaned back, now her hands holding onto the counters edge. “Just seems like something that might come in handy, you know always expect the unexpec-”

Interrupting her own voice with a mild yelp as you tossed it back, bonking it off of her unsuspecting forehead. Never one to give up before the joke is done though, Ellie held her hands up in the air one with the box purposely facing you. “I thought we were always supposed to be prepared?”

Your hand on your waist you narrowed your eyes, mouthing a clear “Put it back” before watching her retreat. Glancing over at Joel, he looked from his own amused gaze at Ellie and bounced to you in question. Only getting a head shake and a slight smirking eye roll as his response.

Both of them ended up meeting you around the middle, Ellie in the middle of putting her gloves back on. “Come on, it’s boring out there. Gotta make your own fun.”

Joel playfully nudged her towards the door, as you took up the rear. You all could have been back at this point, but he had suggested the detour just to see if there was anything bringing back. Part of you agreed with him, but also had you wondering if just perhaps he wanted to spend time just the three of you before rejoining the crowds of the community you now called home.

Was it for him, or for you? This sensation of closeness was new to all three of you, but it also dug at you and Joel in different ways. He had more time to get used to this, and a surrounding of people that helped him adjust faster. You, not so much.

Someone, whom instead of slowly heating to a boil, blazed out of control in a wildfire that yanked you into the arms of support.. Going back to Jackson meant being able to live that new support unobstructed.

Your hands trying to dig into your palms, but softened by the cushioning gloves around your nails leaving you only with one other cope. Free falling into the unknown. Your eyes glanced up to Joel’s tall figure from where you walked behind him, and Ellie’s lively smaller one. Their voices mumbling, but accustomed to the other.

There wasn’t anything pulling you away from finding a life with them now. Bonded for life as if some other worldly force brought your traumas together to heal. The secrets were out, the ones that mattered at least and now all was left was for them to know you as you are.

Strangely enough, it felt just as daunting as those first few days.

You had been given a few nice options, cozy houses close to everyone else with lots of room. The first one you paced around the echoing rooms being reassured the kind of amenities these places had set up. The only comment you made being, “Lot of space for just me.”

The second one didn’t even get the chance to be peeked into. Sounds of laughter and loud chatter wized by, your attention turned to watch the main street crowded with people and little quiet that had something inside make your heart beat a little more noticeable.

It was Maria who suggested the one you ended up in. You didn’t really notice at the time, but it was clear she had been spending some time trying to figure you out, and the hour or so you’d been there had said at least something trustworthy. Tommy initially protesting, mostly because the house was small and needed size able work to make it halfway decent, but it was away from the street and one or two house lengths from the nearest neighbour. “If it has plumbing and a front door then it’s perfect.”

You didn’t venture out the rest of that first day. They seemed decent people here but there were too many of them, at least for now. It was early morning when you ventured outside. The sky still clouded in grey with more threats of rain, and the air still cool enough to chill your lungs, but it gave you time to map out where everything was.

Many seemed apprehensive about you, but looking back on it it wasn’t like you were all that approachable. A quiet, skittish demeanour that hardly spoke a word and looked unsure to the point of distrust at your surroundings. Not exactly like the open and welcoming community here. Quiet and on edge with enough lack of sleep, you could see it. It wasn’t until you had been walking into what appeared to be a dining hall did someone broach the conversation barrier.

Your elbows had been leaning against a high counter. Back close to the wall, looking at a scene that felt nothing like the only kind you’d known for twenty years. Was this a safe life they had always been used to, or were you just particularly bad at adapting to it? There was very little of interest in your house yet save for what you brought. But you had no clue what the etiquette was around food in this place and you were still way too exhausted to even consider going outside to fend for yourself.

Now that you here in here though, the idea of asking made your heart race just a little too much.

A voice spoke up at that moment, your eyes squinting at the room too distracted to notice anyone noticed you. “You know people usually come here to eat, right?” Turning your head from side to side until a shorter figure sat at a table on her own. A kid, maybe around thirteen if you had to guess, with sharp watchful eyes and a playful glint behind it. “Just ask, they’re not going to make you wait until you starve to give you anything. As far as I know.”

It was possible you just had been alone for too long, but there was a smartass behind the girl’s goofy little smile and it almost pulled a smirk out.. Your head nodded at the empty space in front of her with an eyebrow raised. Her own tilting in more amusement, “I’m waiting for someone.” You didn’t question it but she backtracked as if trying to recondition herself. “It’s good manners to wait until everyone’s at the table with their food before you start eating.”

A real smirk fell over your mouth, that was definitely something she either rehearsed or spent far too many occasions being told it. “How do you know I’m not doing the same?”

“Because you just got here and don’t know anyone.” You raised an eyebrow once more as her expression fell flat of it’s clever one up. “I live across the street from Maria, she mentioned you were new. Something about getting a few things since you didn’t arrive with much.”

Nodding was your only response. Growing slightly uncomfortable knowing she was waiting for someone or someones, you didn’t think you wanted to stick around and get roped into meeting more new people. But something about her blunt curiosity was endearing. So you shrugged, letting an exhale out watching for approaching people foolishly as if an ambush was immanent. “Travel by yourself long enough, you figure out how to get on just fine on the bare minimum.”

Unlike the apprehensive interest from the couple yesterday at how long you’d been by yourself, the kid’s head nodded with eyes of understanding you could recognize. “I get it, first time I was here we spent like three months in the woods in the middle of winter. Felt like a space alien seeing how much shit they have.”

Someone not you would have asked where she was from, who she was with but your face just scrunched in an understanding before pushing up so your palms rested on the wood. Your nails tapped at it, their far too long length making satisfying pings against it. Mouth opening and closing to ask her name but letting it go, at least she didn’t share the same silence. “I’m Ellie.”

Turning your neck to look at her, you still found no curious judgment everyone else had. So you gave her yours back, a normal smile washing over. “You want to sit down? Food in here’s really fucking good.”

Head dropped again, pushing off as you tried to look apologetic through your uncomfortable insides growing. “No, it’s okay. You’re waiting on someone.”

Ellie tried protesting, “No it’s fine, he won’t care.” Pausing for a moment before an amused half smile returned, “Or, well maybe he will but it’s not personal he’s like that with everyone.”

Forcing a polite smile, you knelt down to pull your back over a shoulder. “Thanks, but I uh,” glancing back at the room, “I just don’t really do crowds.”

Before you could turn away she fully she called your name, “Am I going to see you around?”

At the time you didn’t really get why Ellie liked you from the start, but you just nodded. Watching her long enough to return it, satisfied with your answer before you walked out completely. The growing noise of talking rung in your ears as the openness of the street called to settle your nerves.

Completely missing that you almost walked into someone in your need to get out, and definitely not realizing the curious glance they gave you. It wasn’t right away, but Joel sure found out soon enough that Ellie discovered a whole new thing to bombard him about. Not expecting it to be the new person he accidentally barged in on. Frown on his face as he recalled that you looked at him as if flinching back from a fight. A look that sat oddly in his stomach even moreso at your hasty retreat of the building.

To be transparent, you’re still not quite sure now why she took a liking to you. By the time you all had gotten back, you felt that strangeness once again. Reaching the main part of town, you quietly mumbled something about unloading some of your stuff as you spotted Tommy up ahead.

Joel though, reached out and turned you back to him by your waist. His eyes narrowing in concern towards you. “Hey, we’re not asking for privacy, you know that?”

Shaking your head you pointlessly adjusted the straps on your bag, trying not to look directly at him to avoid how easily he knew when you were lying. “No, no it’s-” Your eyes glanced over to the others and swallowed harshly. “Just got a lot of stuff that's not mine, might as well off load it.”

His deep brown eyes looked you up and down, determining something which landed him a conclusion with too many variables to be certain. “Alright.” The hand on your waist traced down the side of your face lightly, “If we’re not home by the time you get back-”

Lips tight together along with your jaw tightening in a clench, “Just head over, got it. Take your time.”

The gravel crunched under your feet as you made your way to up one of the main buildings. The town was overwhelming when you first arrived, and you had to get used to being allowed to have some life here. Then everything fell apart one by one, but now the circle has completed it’s round. You’re right back to where you started only people to go home to and less chances to wonder when you’d finally leave this place.

A few people gave their greetings as you passed them by, the only thing they knew was the three of you were gone for a few days not that so much of your world shook you by your feet. Stripping your soul bare for Joel to see.

Swerving through the gatherings, you ignored the eyes that followed you, or perhaps didn’t even see them. Shutting the door behind you, you dropped your bag with a thud and just as hard dropped your arms to cross on the table pressed up against the wall. Head dropped in there, your legs bent you let the muffled voices lull into your ears, once again getting used to so much.

Realistically everyone had gone through something, events that tore their lives and loved ones away and filled your blood with the anxiety of never seeing them again. And no one found it easy, everyone bled that pain and yet you felt selfish for resenting people here who have their lives build back together.

You weren’t special, and you felt pathetic for wishing others emotions to revolve around compensating your own turmoils. Sighing deeply you finally dragged your head back up, transferring your bag onto the table. Laying out the guns and ammo you had come into possession of, and your shedding the ones not of your own.

Taking your time, you unloaded and cleaned out everything methodically before scratching the details down on the lined paper laying about. Whoever had been in here last didn’t even put much care into keeping it all together clearly. It usually wasn’t in such a state, at least when you were doing inventory it wasn’t.

Heat rising in your chest, you paused to unzip your jacket. Pulling out the ammo kept in one of the pockets before tossing the article onto the empty stool across the small space. You must have been in there longer then you noticed, when the door opened the sounds that pooled in were quieter then when you walked in.

Hands hovered mid air, you felt annoyed that you just lost count. Peeking over you were surprised to see who it was. “You’ve been in here forever, thought I’d check and see if you’re alive.”

Alex was a tall man, probably a little younger then Tommy with a shiny smile and a bit too full of a bravado for your patience. You weren’t even sure the last time you spoke to him, or even wanted too honestly. There’s only been about four people that have heard more then a few words from you in weeks and he was certainly not one of them.

Looking at him, you tilted your head in an aloof manner. Unsure what to respond to his comment but no doubt he found a way to fill the silence. “Barley seen you the past few days,” Not technically a lie but also not even true considering you’ve been out of the town for days. “The lot of us, just wondering who’s been keeping you away- or busy, you know?”

There was no question who he meant, but clearly not on the same level for why he was referring too them, and you did not want to hear it. Not bothering to look at him, one of your fingertips tapped against the wood as you counted what was left in the box albeit with a bit more tensing strain in it’s knuckle that matched with the clench in your jaw. “I keep myself busy just fine.”

Your tone flat and restrained, not a hint at all to him though. Alex had thick luscious hair he no doubt spend too much time on, too many chemicals on top of it likely made it harder for any real facts get into his brain. A few women you’ve worked around with commented on how handsome it made him look, but lord did you not follow what they were talking about.

“No, no, yeah. I just mean you moved like what? Last week? And suddenly you’re hardly around?” If your hands tensed even more the bones would snap. “So that’s just how it works now? He tells you to move in with him and you just follow orders.”

The lifetime of anxiety you had been through felt odd in comparison as you just stood there and felt far to uncomfortable to tell this man to shut up. This was not the time you could handle Alex’s newfound issues with Joel. “It’s not like that.”

Wow, you tell him. By now you’ve recounted five times and still couldn’t even guess how much ammo you have and the frustration was rising in your throat. Your name coming from his mouth sounded nowhere near as warm and soothing as it did from Joel’s, feeling almost pathetic for wishing he was here when you had been away for what? An hour or two?

Or was it just Alex’s condescension that had you yearning for Joel’s intimate quiet. “Problem is babe, it is just that.” Since when did he think you wanted to be called something like that by him of all people? It pinged in your chest like a drop of water freezing each spot it drips onto. “You were finally starting to open up, and then what? Miller comes along and suddenly you’re never around, and fuck if you told me you moved in with him? Pretty awkward trying to stop by your house only to walk in and it’s empty.”

Your lungs tightened as your eyes narrowed. Head turning enough to look at him with something much like a glare. “You just walked into my house?”

Alex just looked at you like you were an idiot, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry for wanting to know where you were, besides not like it’s your anymore right?”

Your palms slid to rest on the table edges, looking down while you breathed through your nose to settle the ice within you. It didn’t matter if you didn’t live there, Alex didn’t know that and he wasn’t just allowed to walk in. Only two people did and they both knew you were okay with it. Why was Alex acting like this? This only started when people begun putting two and two together regarding Joel but you had no idea why.

Giving up, you slid your eyes shut to take a deep breathe. Letting the flow, swim through to your heart as it forced it’s pace to simmer. You could hear him ask if you were even listening, but you refused to open your eyes until your heart moved back in proper place.

Your limbs lost some tension giving you the strength enough to scribble down the rest of the details and leaned up on your toes to pin it on the wall. Head down and voice low, you wanted to just leave so you kept calm. “I have things to do, Alex. We’ll talk about this later.”

Talk about what, was not part of the planning process. He did however, sigh and flop his back against one of the uncluttered walls and crossed his arms across his chest. “As you wish.” Letting the room be quiet as you finished storing the unloaded weapons and doing your bag back up.

Turning to reach for your jacket, you found him holding it out for you with one hand and a very flat fallen expression. Gently taking it you mumbled, “Thank you.” Before electing to drape it over your bag carried shoulder.

You made it a few steps into the main hall before he muttered angrily under his breath. “God forbid he catches you alone with another man, right?” Your boots squeaked as you pivoted in place, incredulity plastered all over you. But he just raised his hands and shook his head refusing to look at you. “Woah sorry, forgot he doesn’t like having of humour either. It was a joke.”

No idea where that came from, you just swallowed something heavy and unpleasant feeling in your throat before turning abruptly. Not even bothering to put your jacket on before making your way into the freezing wind.

Already too far away, you missed the uncomfortable stare down occurring between Alex and Maria, who by sheer accident had heard most of the latter half of the man’s immaturity. Ever the clever woman, gears already turned in her head that she knew weren’t clicking in yours.

Walking back to Joel’s house, you couldn’t push away something that didn’t go down when you tried shoving. A strange feeling in your limbs and chest like they were tingling, a warning of tensity that spiked your subconscious. A sensation following you all the way up the steps. It didn’t quite all get caught behind the front door as you shut it though.

No, whatever this pricking in your limbs danced within your chest as well, just dulled by the immediate sight of Ellie who had clearly not made it to her own bed. A bowl of something on the coffee table and her body flailed out in exhaustion.

Quiet as you could, you sat your bag down in the main entrance before tip toeing over. Her own bag sat on the floor in front of her, your eye also caught to a blanket on the opposite end to her feet. Finally, a soft smile made it’s way over you. Very slowly pulling the material over to rest over her shoulder. With a shake of your head you grabbed her bag and made your way to her room, quietly putting it in sight on the bed she clearly thought she wasn’t tired enough to need.

Joel’s door sat ajar, but little noise came from it. You wondered if too he fell victim to the same sleepy fate. Your fingers tapped at the wall, debating to go in. Something about Alex’s conversation bothered you, but you weren’t entirely sure why or what part of it did.

Pushing it open slightly, the light at his bedside was on, and some of his clothes were still sat out like he just peeled them off. Glancing back at the main washroom the door was shut but no water was on. He probably just finished.

Waves of similar tiredness washed over you finally now that the familiarity of this place settled. A few tilts to stretch your neck slid into a deep sigh. Opening one of the top dresser drawers to pull out a new pair of socks, you managed to get as far as closing it before sliding onto the ground seemed like the more feasible spot. Starting to undo your laces with your back pressed against the drawer handles you could hear shuffling from Joel behind the door, causing a deeper sigh.

The exhale there giving more and more weight to your shoulder, you peeled the first shoe off and tossed it towards Joel’s and dragged the wet sock down. Soles of your heels cracked in some spots and calloused in others, your head banged against the wood for just a moment.

Joel found you in the middle of all this, towel sat at his waist with water still peeking through the thick volume of hair now mostly slicked back. His brown eyes soft as they gazed towards you, while yours looked similar but also tinged in something further away. A growing look Joel still was figuring out how to address.

Finally replacing your feet covering with thick, warm socks you let your legs spread flat onto the floor your head once again resting on the drawers behind you. “Bed too comfortable for you?”

Head dropping back as you chuckled slightly, words didn’t come as easily. Watching Joel step inside enough to properly close the door, you couldn’t help but look back up at him. Your heart beat a little faster, but in two fashions. One you had become accustomed too. Broad chest wide and expansive giving way to a softer stomach with various scars scattered about. Most of which you knew of.

The more comprehensible of sides wondered if you could lay Joel out on his back across the sheets and recite each part of him as if knowing him skin deep extended to his heart, imagining his large hands resting at the sides of your thighs. Squeezing tighter handfuls when you lightly trace over more sensitive spots. But that wasn’t the only speed.

That yearning to prove you were in his heart fought against a dark tightening in yours. As if for a split second, looking at Joel nearly bare standing above you, sparked a flicker of fear. It felt familiar in a way, but not identifiable and certainly inexplicable with him.

If he detected that millisecond of emotion, he chose to ignore it as you spoke. Voice almost cracked from how weak your throat wanted to put effort into. “I got as far as the drawer, then gave up. Forgot how much work hiking through all that snow is.”

Finding a spot between the open spread of your legs, he looked down with a genuine curiosity one hand outstretching to you. “I get it, me and Ellie spent pretty much all last winter out in the goddamn woods. Where’d you usually go during winter?”

Eyebrows raising you nodded towards the towel, “Bit of a long towel for putting on a show don’t you think?” His face fell flat and you breathed out a small laugh at how quickly he almost dropped his hand.

Pulling you up with one and the other finding a steadying place on your hip he dropped his chin, eyes closing for a moment. “Don’t tempt me, I’m too tired to make it worth your while. Gettin-”

Nudging his stomach with a few fingers, he smirked at your own eye rolling one. “If you say if it’s because your getting old everyone in this house must be ancient.” You started to pull away, turning enough to pull your flannel off. “Besides you’ve more then proved appetite's not an issue.”

Joel knew you purposely nodded towards his lower half with that look. Either teasing how getting him worked up was the opposite of the truth or his stomach that both of you full well knew you’d never actually even want to tease. Wasn’t a good day in that house unless someone made fun of someone else for a numerous of dumb reasons.

Your back turned now from him, you got as far as the closet before you felt fingers grasping at your shirt and tugging you back into Joel’s chest. Both of his hands resting at your waist. Voice low in your ear rumbling through your head. “I asked you a question.”

For briefest of seconds you almost slipped up with a laugh, but it failed on your tongue. A shiver not from the cold tingling down the length of your spine. The second time in one day something wormed it’s way into your head that you were too tired to enough to identify. The spots Joels hands met your own body suddenly so much more present in your alertness.

He smoothed one of them out to his palm, sliding down to your hip as he crowded you, his height looming over you enough rest part of his head trying to peek down to the front of yours. “I didn’t mean to-”

Shaking no, you at least sounded softer unlike the uncomfortable feeling inside. “No, you’re fine. I just...” Why were you considering lying? Joel knows when you’re not telling him the truth, why would you risk a lie? “Last few just you know, cold and quiet. Being on my own, and all.”

His palm running up and down your hip, chest humming into your back with your name. “I know you said you don’t want to talk about earlier, but” your heart leaped and apparently so did your body because Joel was tugging you back into his chest before you realized you even had strayed. “But something else is bothering you, more then when we just got back.”

Trapped behind an underlying anxiety that had never occurred to you until just now. Was it the conversation itself, or were you trying to pretend as if far off in the woods did his voice repeat just one thing? Being alone with men wasn’t an issue of any kind between you and Joel, so why on earth did Alex make you feel guilty for it?

Being quiet for too long, Joel pressed his lips to the side of your head. One high, one lower, and one just below your ear. “Okay. How about we lay down for a while first?” Pulling back his cheek pressed to the side of your head, staring at the same nothing you did. “Beacuse I know for a fact you haven’t slept in days.”

Luck gracing you, Joel’s calmness and warmth pushed down the growing cold inside you. He wasn’t one for pushing people to open up about what was wrong, and certainly not with you. No, you and him had a little too much in common like that for Joel to force things before they were ready.

He hummed more in the tune of satisfied when you nodded. Exhale deflating your shoulders instead of your mind focusing on how Joel was holding you, now it just wanted his touch back in general. The fog of what was wrong pushed away, already having forgetting the fleeting second of fear entirely.

You should have known you were right. His appetite for you wasn’t at all diminished with time. The lack of any kind of underwear when he put on a pair of sweatpants was a clear indicator the man was either consciously or subconsciously thinking of easy access.

The fact that he handed you a pair, that just so happened to also be his, should have given it away as well. Getting old, your ass. Crawling under the covers you immediately shoved your face into the softness of the pillow, something halfway between a sigh and a moan muffling into the material at something under your head that wasn’t the ground.

Bed dipping on the other side, you turned partially to look at him. Feeling stupid for ever considering he meant anything more duplicitous then the kindness emminating off his face. Hair still slightly wet and the right angle of light from the window made the greys stand out. Arm lazily reaching out to run your hand slightly through it.

Smiling at the groan that left his mouth as soon as your nails scratched into is scalp, Joel yanked your arm away with a frown before just hauling you into his chest. Cradling your back once more he had you both turned to keep out of the direct sunshine from your faces.

Your free arm tucked into you while the other found it’s hold on Joel’s wrist, as his now kept you against him by your hip. For a few minutes, there was content silence in the house, not even the hustle outside crept it’s way inside. You didn’t notice when your eyes slid shut, or even register if you had been awake this whole time or if you dozed off for a few minutes.

The feeling of Joel dragging his nose down your hair until finding your neck to place another kiss at had you fidget in his hold. “Did everything go alright?” He was quiet for a second trying to let his brain catch up only to pull back when you tried turning to see him did he just keep you closer then before as you started to clarify. “You know, with-”

He hummed while his head moved against the back of yours. “Went fine. I think Maria has a few more questions but guess she figured she’d let us rest first.” It could be comical how Joel lifted his head off the pillow to see your face clearly before the guilt set in. “Hey, this ain’t-”

“I know, I know. Just...” You trailed off, almost awkwardly.

Joel gently pulled some of your hair from being too much in your face, “What?”

Flickering up to see him, you decided to burrow further into the pillow. Dark eyes too deep and intense to look into sometimes. “I don’t know. Sometimes I just wonder what she thinks of me. Bringing in some pretty big problems when all I wanted was a bed.”

His mouth still close to your skin you felt the smirk forming. “Yeah don’t worry I think I have you beat on giving her the wrong impression.” Both of you chuckled as your free hand went to seek out his wrist once more, wanting something of him to hold onto.

Sparks pinching into your skin where Joel’s fingers danced up and down, peeking under your shirt and stopping just at your waistline before starting the track over. “Tommy made some mention about that I think. Something about painting you like an asshole, getting Maria on her high horse about you.”

Pausing you leaned your head back, feeling his neck lifted up to see you better still. His other arm had propped his head up by the elbow as you spoke. “Okay he didn’t say that to me. I said that to her.”

Rumbled laughter bounced from your ear and down into your chest as he let out a louder laugh before it tapered off to something further back in memory. “It’s better now. Tommy may have said some things, but I also wasn’t exactly in the best place when we first got here. Probably didn’t make things any better.”

More time passed you couldn’t be sure if you dozed through. Neither you or Joel had moved but you could feel his chest rise and fall with each passing breathe and the softness of his stomach press perfectly against your lower back. You suspected he may be awake, the dancing of his fingertips traced along your waistline without straying far.

Your heart spoke two languages once more. One you knew and understood, a gentle yearning for Joel to be as close as possible even if that meant part of him being inside you in whichever way you could get. The other though? The speeding of your heart that felt like a warning aimed and ready to sound, that one confused you.

His touch warm as they tucked themselves under the soft clothing but didn’t slide too far. Just tracing your hips as much as a he could before very slowly inching further along the skin. Not quite ready to translate, you turned partially to give his hand more space to explore what he wished. The soothing gesture of his palm flattening to run across your skin.

Neither of you spoke, almost unwilling to break the serene peace that so commonly avoided coming near you. Your hitched breathe and Joel’s controlled but deep ones behind hitting part of your neck where he brushed a space clear for himself.

The roughness of his own hand contrasted the softness underneath, much like Joel himself. Too often the looks he gave to people held little behind them that mattered. So few in his life meant anything truly important and yet he let you inside of that. Opened his heart and let you tenderly care for the emotions within that ran miles beyond anger or danger. It was an intimacy you didn’t really understand, but now you sort of do if only for Joel. Harsh, but trusting that roughness wasn’t his only side.

So close to his touch, skipping past your ass Joel cupped the plush skin right below one of your cheeks and a deeper inhale proceeded a shaky exhale right over your neck. Finding the inside of your thighs, right before reaching between your legs you felt it.

The air from his lungs wasn’t the shaking cold in your neck, because the blanket over top you both and his hands ran warm. Yet you felt your legs do the same. Joel’s movements pausing, gripping your inner thigh more firmly and shifted behind you.

You didn’t want to lie to him, you don’t know why you couldn’t stop thinking about that. But you also didn’t want to break this peace. So you let the shiver finally free fall down your back and snugged back into him more. Hoping to feign the cold.

He didn’t say he bought it, but your muscles relaxed in his touch regardless. So the one he danced over your inner thighs leaped. Two fingers moving up and down the middle of your underwear every so lightly up to your clit where he pressed down just the tiniest bit more. Releasing the pressure and back down. Once, twice, five times before he let his hand cup your whole mound.

The feeling of this thumb smoothing up and down the space just before your underwear begun harmonized with his whole hand rubbing ever so slightly. The heel of his palm not teasing rough on your clit like he had done before, instead teasing your covered pussy.

A shaky sigh leaving your lips, Joel uses his leverage to pull your hips into his pushing forward. His cock thick against your ass as he grinds into you just the slightest. Almost instinctively you found yourself leaning back into it, sparks inside you alighting at how quickly you could feel him grow harder and harder. Your arm reached back to seek him out, Joel using his own free one to grab it, bring them up to his lips.

His kiss was small and delicate at the same instance he ground his cock into you. Draping your arm behind so you could grasp at his hair, your nails scratched up and down the strands. Quiet hums of need held back in his throat, he turned to lay you on your back. His top half leaning over you, with his hand still rubbing you over your underwear.

Both of your arms shifted to hold the side of his neck and face, your thumb rubbing over the coarse facial hair. The worrying ping in your heart felt funny now that you looked at him. His eyes soulful as they drop down to your lips and shamelessly look between them and up once more, but they also held need. Like the tightness of his hands on you, Joel’s face wasn’t soft and adoring it was crestfallen and almost emotional.

He needed something he wasn’t voicing. Your gaze flickered between his own parted lips and his eyes before slipping shut. Both moving towards the other at the same time Joel’s kiss was rougher then expected.

Lips demanding you follow his, let him guide you deeper into his kiss and tease your tongue desperate to pull the gasping whine you always tried to hide. But he wanted those sounds to echo in his own and the exhaustion would have to wait.

Nails back in his hair, Joel’s kiss was as needy and sloppy as his hand was desperate to slide under the fabric of your underwear. The warmth of his hand nothing compared to the heat between your legs, but not close to where he felt most comfortable with you.

His tongue draped across yours with each new press of his lips, and two thick fingers of his pressed into your clit making small rubs. His touch both devouring and exposing, you had two thoughts. That you didn’t know why you were having such pockets of uncomfortability, and that you knew Joel wouldn’t just ask to be taken care of.

So if you didn’t want to be honest of what you did not understand, you would do what he deserved to have. One of your legs bent by the knee putting the foot flat on the bed as you pushed him away from your mouth. The kiss sloppy enough that both of your lips had a sheen of saliva coating them. Gently you guided Joel to lay flat on his back and assumed his position.

Leaning over him and capturing a much less deep kiss as your hand smoothed and nails lightly scratched down his chest and back. Nails carving up, palm smoothing down lower with each iteration of the route.

Moving one of your legs up and over to settle on the other side of his hips, you shushed his eyes ready to question. Shaking your head and kissing him once more. A smile across your face, small but soft at how affected he was.

On display, Joel felt no fear showing you what was stripped away. Both a burning rough need to have you,, make sure you both are here and to stay, but also exhaustion. Days out in the winter and more scares then any of you three ever wanted. His brain begged for sleep, but your hips just barley sat on his covered cock and your hand on his fast beating heart that needed something else.

Kissing down the length of his body, you stopped at each mark. Just a soft kiss, could even be called a peck but each one was covered start to finish before you slinked down to his sweatpants. Your palms smoothing up and down his thighs, his chest was far more tense then when you had been up there. A clench in his jaw as you bent down to kiss at his soft waistline.

Tugging his pants down slowly you kissed along with the exposed skin until getting to his cock. Joel’s hands fisting the sheets beside him, you gently pulled him out and did nothing to help the growing tension at your touch.

Moving to kiss the tip of his cock, you slide them down his thick length, your tongue licking him just as wet as his own kiss was to your mouth. You could hear his breathing grow harsher, but still tried keeping his hands to himself.

By the time you were ready to take him, you had coated his entire length. Your hand coming up to gently grip the base of his cock, much more gentle then you knew he would take himself. Slowly stroking up and down the saliva made a slick sound with each move, but it was when you licked his tip and barley let him into your mouth before moving back gently did Joel get fed up.

One of his hands grabbing the back of your hair and tugging to make you look up. Slightly sat up, his face as clenched and tense. Nostrils flared as he breathed heavily, and was the one to break the serene silence. His voice rough, almost a rasp like holding back had cracked his vocal cords. “Don’t tease me, sweet girl. Let me slide down your pretty throat, okay?”

His hand in your hair was tight, but it clenched at your heart too. The pinging in your chest nowhere to be seen, you nodded eyes wide and ready to listen. Joel’s darker ones blazed with something much more then greed. Readjusting so most of your hair was out of your face, you let Joel be the one to guide you back down onto his cock.

He didn’t let you tease him further. As soon as you had his tip in your mouth, Joel stuttered a whispering groan out at the feeling, “Oh fuck,” Your trust was in his grip, and the man knew exactly what you could handle. The hand gentle around his girth moved uselessly to hold at his hip, Joel pushing your wet mouth down onto his cock until about halfway.

Already licking what you could get, Joel held you there. Letting the saliva accumulate in your mouth enough that it may have felt embarrassing if it were with anyone else. He watched it spill from the corners and down his cock. You finally felt him push your head again, moving barley an inch down before pulling you up.

Never allowing you off him in anyway, Joel pushed and pulled your head up and down as you licked and greedily sucked his cock. Your eyes shut and a noise building in your chest that wasn’t quite a moan or a groan but just a needy sound that had Joel swearing more. Each time he moved you half an inch more of his length, “That’s right, good girl. Nice and slow, just like we practiced.”

A whine vibrated against him and Joel accidentally pushed you down barley an inch from the base of his cock with a moan, but he held you there. Your hands were tight on his thighs, but as long as your nails didn’t dig deep enough that it felt sharp, he knew you wanted more.

The pace he guided you to bob along his cock sped, and his stomach muscles went wild with a twisting pleasure. You sucked at his tip as he came close to grunting, collecting his words. “All the way down now, sweetheart.”

This time guiding you much slower, his deep voice never leaving as he pushed. “Fuck- oh fuck, see sweet girl? You’re perfect, throats meant to let me fill it up.” His hips pushed up a bit more by now, his grip less intense, more just holding you so he could thrust as he needed.

You sucking every shallow thrust he gave, the saliva and precum soaking your lips and his cock weren’t the only thing dripping. The pressure of how deep and thick he sat in your throat pulled stinging tears and a shameless muffled whine as Joel thrusted deep enough to keep you as far as you could.

Your nose pressed up against the thick, dark hair surrounding his cock. Hands holding his hips so much more desperately as you once again made indeterminate sounds of need behind his length. He pushed and pulled your head down his cock in tandem with the thrusts he could manage as the cum and saliva made a soaking mess and the wet sounds of just how much of it there was the only thing aside from whatever moans and deep mumbling of need Joel could voice.

You felt his cock throb in your mouth, almost too much too fast that you almost panicked, but you didn’t know which, what way. Joel’s moans were short and raising in pitch, breathless, “Oh god, fuck sweetheart, oh fuck-” barley audible but you decided you wanted to give him more.

Grabbing the hand at the back of your head, you covered it and pushed down until you once again were overwhelmed with his entire length down your throat and your own insides leaping at how too much too fast it was.

But you sucked, nose still pressed against the coarse hair, palms sliding up to grasp what sides of his ass you could reach from his back to the sheets. Your hand not moving, Joel moved enough to grab yours and switch. His larger hand now covering yours and keeping you sucked his cock, neither caring how much of a sloppy mess being made. “Gonna make me cum, sweet girl. Let me spill down this perfect, fucking throat, okay?”

You barley got a nod out before it snapped. Joel’s head falling back hard into the pillow behind as his hips trusted up into your mouth as he came. Your gag reflex from the pressure almost so much so quickly your heart lept in panic, but his warm cum spilling inside your mouth kept you as together as you could.

His cock so deep inside, you swallowed what you could but mostly you just were held there taking what he fed you as he mumbled incoherently above, only your name and what could only be expletives in Spanish being made out.

Joel’s hand finally easing up as he finally stopped coming, his body flushed and heaving. Sweat accumulating on his hair and chest despite the blinding white snow flying outside the window as he came back down to his senses.

You pulled off his cock slowly, as you gently sucked and licked your way off but there was no escaping how swollen and stained in his cum your lips were. Your head dropped against his hips trying to catch your breathe when Joel coaxed you up to him.

His torso moving to sit up, Joel had you partially in his lap. His eyes drooping and his face dropped in compete content, Joel swiped two fingers across your lips. Intending to drop them down to your pussy, you stopped. Something back inside your chest that you just couldn’t handle or even try to vocalize at that moment.

Instead, you pulled them both into his mouth, sucking them just as clean. His eyes narrowed, more grumbling in Spanish before pulling them out of your mouth and cupping the side of your face. His nose nudging against yours, Joel was so close to your lips you could feel them as he spoke. “Let me take care of you.”

Shaking your head you kissed him gently. Swipes of your tongues not needy, but a loving tease before you pulled away. You being the one to nudge his nose with yours this time and twin grins when it made Joel smirk. “Sleep first, Miller. We can play more later.”

Joel rolled his eyes, pulling you into his chest as he lay both of you down. Your leg swung across his and most of your upper half draped over his chest as both his arms held you to him. “Play later...Jesus christ, sweetheart.”

A kiss pressed to his heart, you focused on him. If he were to have his way, Joel no doubt would insist on giving you something in return. But he was content, exhausted and too selfish to let you out of his arms, so he missed both how clearly soaking wet and turned on you were but also that twice now you talked him out of touching you.

Laying there for a while, both of you knew sleep hadn’t come to either of you yet. One of his hands stroked over your hair, when his voice low and serious spoke up. “What kept you so long this afternoon?”

Joel was more awake then you, eyes open and trained on nothing above as he felt your head snuggle into his chest more. His arms tightening at the sensation. You weren’t awake enough to remember why you didn’t bring anything up.

You sighed lightly, “Alex caught me in the storage room.”

Whatever ping had kept your heart jumping beats in your chest earlier, twisted in an unsettled darkness in Joel’s at how that sounded, your next sleepy words doing little to make it better. “Just hassling me about you, I don’t know. He’s just been...mean...since you and I...”

You didn’t at all remember your words by this point, and Joel couldn’t even tell if you were actually conscious, but if your sleep answered honestly he was there to listen.

“Said he shouldn’t be alone with me, kind of like...”

Whatever that was leading too was the exact honesty not even your waking self realized was closing in on how uneasy you kept bleeding into. You didn’t think any words were said before you both fell asleep, but it wasn’t just anger brewing in Joel’s head as he lay there.

Feeling you sleeping in his arms, more then one thing spun in his head and he liked none of them and even more of those had no answer. But, Joel too was exhausted, and finally just let himself drift off alongside you.

Joel would wake up before you only to realize it was getting dark out. Slipping out slowly, Joel stopped at the washroom before peeking into Ellie’s still empty bedroom. Finding her still passed out on the couch, Joel just shook his head with a smile.

Just as carefully as he left the bed to leave you undisturbed, Joel moved Ellie all the way into her own bed. Her grumbles at being jostled in her sleep and the furrowed brows alongside almost made Joel chuckle out loud.

He found himself actually just watching her for bit. Stuck at her bedside, a soft brightness in his eyes until he heard you shift around in the blankets.

Turns out all three if you had let the weight of the past few days leave everyone a bit more sleep deprived then perhaps any of you had been honest about. Tomorrow, whatever foggy list of things bouncing along Joel’s brain would be dealt with then.

For now, he slunk back into his bedroom. Finding that as soon as he was under the covers, you twisted around to meet him in the middle face to face. The comfort of the others warmth at night being a gift he, deep down, felt painfully in his heart, that you once thought you didn’t deserve.

More than once you were told to just relax that morning, but you felt restless. Only getting as far as mid morning before making your way into one of the kitchens. At least if your hands were occupied that took a bit of strain off your wandering mind.

To your benefit, the others seemed to leave you be. Letting you finish one thing before nudging you over to something else without much direction. Good thing considering you barley heard any of the chatter around you, images blasting by in your head so quickly all your energy was focused on figuring out why you had this odd feeling in your gut.

There had been spurts of it before, small moments or tiny splashes of emotion that pulled you into the dark but spat you back out just as quick. Now it felt more consuming, like a shadow that kept growing and wrapping itself around you. As you stood there however, a voice seemed to trickle into your ears and a phantom tracing over your skin.

Why would you be thinking of those days right now? That made less sense then how you felt. Or why they would even be connected, until multiple faces blended into one. Alex had never done anything like that to you, or even shown hints that he may. And yet, the way he cornered you? You found yourself blending the two enough. He talked like them and realistically, looked like them in a way.

That claustrophobia as he stood at the only door trying to what? Yell at you about Joel? What did any of this have to do with each other and why couldn’t you stop thinking about it?

Vaugley you heard some rumblings outside, but it didn’t grab your attention the way it did a few of the others until turning to pass something off to another. Only to find a few of them huddled together in gossip, and their eyes already turned your way with intent.

Head tilting to the side as your brows furrowed in confusion, one of the women gestured to the front of the building. “I think your boy might be having a bit of a row.” Your face scrunched in even more confusion, as she continued. “Tall, dark hair, bit of an attitude?”

Being completely honest with yourself, that did very little to narrow it down. A few guys you knew in this place fit that description. Regardless, you turned to put everything down and headed to the front door.

The cold air as you opened the door shivered against your skin, hands already stiffening from the onslaught. Whatever had happened out here, clearly had died down but the remains were still lingering.

Joel stood a fair few feet away from Alex, his face twisted in residual anger, his dark eyes clearly fired up even from there. Alex himself was far more worked up, turning to try and instigate something once more only to be pulled back. Eventually shaking off the hand on his arm and started to walk away with steam still coming out of his ears.

He didn’t notice you but Joel did. The twisted emotion turning to something a shift more tender as he looked over to you before Maria talked him out of something. She begun walking to you as you and Joel both watched each other, your confusion much stronger then what blend of things he was currently feeling.

Stopping at the bottom of the steps, one of her gloved hands held onto the banister as she nodded inside. “Go grab your coat.” Just pointing to make her instructions more clear as you raised an eyebrow at her. Leave it to Maria to be as purposely vague as possible.

By the time you came back out, Joel was gone. A skip in your heart as your head turned one way then the other to him not being in sight and the onlookers had dissipated. The tension and apprehension in your posture was painfully clear as you stepped down still watching the now empty spot where Joel had been. “What uh-” Looking back she raised her eyebrows as if she knew what you wanted to ask. A kind of expecting expression that likely put many people on guard. “Where exactly are we going?”

Whatever her analysis was, it left her satisfied for now. “My house. Figured you’d like a meal in some peace and quiet.” You weren’t that stupid to think lunch was all she had in mind, but both of you knew there was little chance you’d want to talk out in the open about whatever she had in mind.

If living in Joel’s house felt weird, it was even weirder to be sat at Maria’s kitchen table as she insisted you just ‘relax for once’ a she did the work. Your hands now had nothing to do, and the uncomfortable energy you had still amused the woman.

By the time she put a plate in front of you, you had lost any courage you tried to build up to just speak up and ask her what happened out there. Any phrasing in your head re written and re worked until all of it sounded like a demand for information. Besides, if anyone was able to dodge a question with her own it like nothing, it was her.

Nodding at her with a muttered, “Thank you.”

It looked good, but not enticing. Nothing really felt enticing at the moment, like your stomach was churning with a toxic storm and food wasn’t even really a choice product to add to the mix. It was frustrating, not being able to just ask a simple question. Just staring in the direction of your plate with nothing in sight but what seemed to occupy your vision many hours of the day today. “So, uh..”

Maria interrupted whatever failed thought process died on your tongue. “Did you know I didn’t like Joel when he first got here?” Your head lifting up as it scrunched in confusion again, but she just shrugged one shoulder with a small smirk. “I was already with Tommy by the time we came across them, and neither me or him had much of a first impression.”

You remembered being told that story, not so much the minute details outside of what Joel had said himself. Remaining quiet as she continued.

“I thought he was a bad influence, and I can only assume he didn’t think too differently of me. To be fair though, all I had to go on was Tommy’s word and whoever I thought he was, wasn’t the same man who arrived. Even less so the second time.” Your eyes flickering over to a wall instead. Not quite sure exactly to what extend did she know certain details.

Shrugging, you took a sip of water instead of at all bothering to pretend you could stomach food right now. “You seem fine now.”

Maria smiled more softly. “We got to know each other. It’s not like how you get along with Tommy. I think me and Joel are a little too different to be super buddy buddy, but first impressions are almost never actually the right ones. You remember what I told you that first day you got here?”

Biting the inside of your cheek you stretched your memory, trying to see beyond the feeling of being an alien in a strange new world to more specific details. “Something about just getting used to him?”

Close enough. “I said he’s pretty rough around the edges at first if you don’t know him very well. He can be off putting and I don’t think I’m breaking new ground by saying Joel can be hard to get to know.” If you gave her any credit, that did in fact almost crack a smile. “What I’m getting at, is if you don’t know him, then it’s easy to paint him as a bad person.”

Eyes narrowing in caution you couldn’t connect the dots of her real intentions. “And someone like Alex, doesn’t know the first thing about the man outside of he’s in a relationship with you.” An anxious tingling in your fingers crept upwards. “He doesn’t like that you’re with him, and he’s immature enough to try and say whatever he can to change your mind.”

Nails tapped at the wooden surface, your jaw clenching. “Why would want to break me and him up, just because he doesn’t like Joel?”

Your sincerity caused Maria to pause. The last time you caught her off guard was when she had realized you had feelings for the man himself. But it possibly didn’t occur to her, that it wasn’t his feelings alone you couldn’t figure out. No wonder he had to spell it out for you, you didn’t even seem to realize if someone liked you at all.

Maria’s face however said your answer. The creeping jitters stemmed up into your veins and unsettled every part of your body it swam through. Stammering for a moment, head shaking you tried to laugh it off. “That doesn’t, why would he-”

Leaning forward, Maria’s voice grew louder but not in a yell. Clear dictation like she knew to cut through the uncomfortable denial. “Because sometimes men are fucking stupid. And even stupider when it comes to liking a woman. Alex likes you, you’re with Joel so it pisses him off. Joel confronts him and it starts a fight because god forbid two hot heads like them manage to talk anything out.”

That made you pause. You didn’t say anything about yesterday to Joel, or at least that you could remember. Why would he start something not the other way around. “I thought-”

Relenting she gave some benefit of the doubt, “Joel approached him first pretty pissed off, but Alex made everything worse by punching him. I already stepped in at that point.” You didn’t mean to tune her out, but words became somewhat muffled. Joel didn’t just start fights, you had to give him a good reason to set that part of him off.

Your name being called, your eyes snapped back to her, but your mouth worked faster then hers this time. “What are you getting at, Maria?” Blinking back, she seemed surprised at the bite in tone, or perhaps the stark intensity in your eyes.

Her face looking around mindlessly for a few moments, it almost felt like even she wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to say. Analytical gaze gave way to a softer one, almost with a tinge of motherly behind it. Which only made you feel more on edge. “I just- I feel like there’s things about you I’ve seen in other people before. Something you’re not sharing.”

Did she know? Did Maria pull back the curtain and see the visions floating behind your eyes and memories that disappeared when you woke up? It was hard to tell if your silence that followed strengthened or weakened her hypothesis by the way she was looking at you.

Exhaling loudly, she broached that wonder. “Did Alex ever do anything,” a shaking in your limbs took over at the same instance it felt like your lungs refused to work. “Or make you do anything, with him?”

You couldn’t figure out what it was you felt, but it wasn’t wanting to stay here. Voice tight and restrained you looked her right in the eye. “No.”

In an instant you pushed yourself out of the chair so quickly it was surprising it didn’t fall over. A reaction Maria clearly didn’t expect, calling your name as she followed you. Managing to yank into your grasp but your upper arm was grabbed before you reached out to the front door.

Like freezing ice poured onto that spot, you whipped around. Arm jerking back in a flinch, the anger now mixed with something that not only made it hard to breathe, but also felt like it was making your heart start and stop simultaneously. Apologetic, she retracted her hand but kept it out as if to placate you from running again. Your name muttered out of her mouth, but you leaned away from her. “Maria, I said he didn’t do anything.”

“But someone did.” The shaking in your body was too strong to not be visible now. None of what she seemed to know had anything to do with your life here, with these people. So her dragging something up that you weren’t even aware she figured out? You felt like she had just exposed you, tearing off your covering and leaving it to be seen by anyone. Even if it was just the two of you here.

Vile crept up in your throat, leaving you sick, nauseous but like the inevitable wasn’t gross just unfairly painful. If you breathed, it would shake and it could all tumble out. Maria’s hand touched your arm but this time, her grasp gentle. A comfort you no doubt might have appreciated if you didn’t feel as if your chest was compressing in on you. “I’m not trying to force you into talking about any of it. But something tells me that you’ve never talked about it with anybody.”

Fingers twitching, digging into your jacket and almost letting it slip with each flex. Trying to exhale through your nose, shoulders deflated a bit. Enough to hopefully let her finish whatever she was trying to get at. “And I think you should. If not with me, then Joel.”

Swallowing hard, you got enough out almost on the verge of cracking. “Why?”

Once again she seeked something out in your expression, and whatever she found you didn’t know. “Because keeping it a secret isn’t going to make you feel any better. And the last person Joel wants to hear it from is me.”

In retrospect, you couldn’t tell if that was a threat. You didn’t even know what you were feeling, but she did and somehow understands the bigger picture. Would she really just tell Joel what she suspected if you don’t? You figured they didn’t matter.

Joel was fine enough with that first night, you didn’t lash out or cry afterall and by the time it was all over you saw no point in bringing it up. He was satisfied it seemed, and you were too. Why should he be weighed down with things that shouldn’t concern him?

You hardly could stand looking at her anymore, standing in her house or being inside at all. Turning finally she let you walk out, and said nothing as you slammed the door behind you. Feet taking you only a few feet into the snowy street before stopping to put your jacket on.

You get into one stupid disagreement with a friend and look at all the trouble it caused. Alex wouldn’t have talked to you that way, made you feel that way if he liked you and he sure as hell wasn’t anything like before.

He was an idiot, before was just a fleeting memory that shouldn’t reflect on anyone except you. None of this had to do with each other, none of it had to do with Joel. Love wasn’t supposed to be complicated and messy. All bringing this up did was make it so, and you didn’t see why other people needed to feel the burden of your issues.

Glancing over at the people milling about, the overwhelmingly normal life many carved out for themselves here. Wasn’t the point to leave your past behind? Maria was wrong you decided. The past had nothing to do with now, Joel, or anyone and it was stupid to pretend like it mattered.

Cold air dug into your skin, biting wind that should have stung more then you felt. You opening your mouth at all caused a fight. You’d apologize to Joel for it, and leave everything else behind. Your problems were your problems, Joel wouldn’t care as long as you don’t burden him with it.

First though, you needed to be alone for a little while. Away from people, and push back all of the confusion swelling your skull for as long as you could stand it. You’ll fix everything when you’ve shaken off the unsettled ill in your stomach that Maria shouldn’t have put there in the first place.

You hadn’t really noticed how dark it became until a voice called it out. “You know there are things called lights inside, right?” You had found yourself perched on a bench with scraps of paper, sketching mostly alone in a secluded area off the main street. Head whipping up, your skin crawled in on itself at Alex’s approaching figure. Instantly your face fell to annoyance, getting up walk away only to be interrupted by him, “Woah, woah, wait a minute I just wanna say something.”

Keeping far more distance between you then was necessary, you still granted him the time. Head turned to the sight of the street empty, and flickered only your eyes back to him.

It was further annoying that he seemed surprised you stayed, taking more then a quick moment to collect himself and looking much more smug then the bashful guilt he approached. “I wasn’t trying to upset you, okay? You’re my friend, I was just looking out for you.” Head inching more to face him, but your glare grew. “We barley see you anymore, I think I have the right to be worried. Whatever this thing between you and Miller is starts up, and suddenly you’re too busy for us and you disappear for days at a time. What was I supposed to think?”

Arms crossed in front of your chest, you were thankful he stayed far from you. Unable to spot your nails digging into your palms harshly, “That what me and him are doing shouldn’t be any of your business. Or that you’re not as smart as you think you are if you don’t know two private people want to spend time with each other in private.”

His face twisted in incredulity. “You just expect me to believe that the second I brought him up yesterday, you looking scared was just some weird coincidence?”

Voice raising, you tried to keep your own level. Empty streets doesn’t mean the air around you isn’t listening. “No, Alex what scared me is you.” His eyebrow raised in confusion and more upset just settled in your stomach, but without the anger to mask it. “You cornered me, blocked the door and told me I shouldn’t be alone in a room with you.”

You felt rather small by this point. His rolling eyes making you feel like a whining child who didn’t know what you were talking about. “What now it’s my fault? You know that asshole punched me in the face right?”

Pointing to what looked like a black eye, it barley even stood out. Joel clearly didn’t give him anywhere near what he could have. “So he hit you first?”

Alex said nothing, and that was that. Trying to say your name, you started walking a wide path around him, arms curling in more on yourself when he tried calling you stay. Not looking directly you stopped just long enough to glance to the side, his figure barley visible. “I-,” You exhaled shakily, fumbling with your words that would sound much braver from anyone other then yourself. “I think we should go our separate ways. You’re supposed to be my friend but not if this is what it’s going to be like.”

Not close enough to hear what he said, but not yet too far to not detect the petulant complaint in his voice. Liking you isn’t a reason to get in between the only life you’ve wanted to find with another person. Alex was just a jerk, but then again, so was someone similar.

It annoyed you, coming to the conclusion that Maria was right. Something else did happen, and as you walked slowly through the street, lights above illuminating the slowly accumulating snow fall, you started to understand that he just reminded you of that something.

His looks, the way he talked to you, all so similar to before, and so completely unlike what Joel was like to you. It still felt messy in your head. Just strands of thoughts, and half conclusions that you hadn’t yet organized into something coherent. To you it didn’t add up yet, and possibly saying all of it out loud might connect those dots.

But you didn’t want to tell just anyone for your own sake. Reaching the house, you glanced up seeing light in Ellie’s room and what probably was Joel’s room as well. You still didn’t want to unload these scattered thoughts onto him, but if you had too, you only wanted it to be Joel. Alex was right about one thing for the wrong reason.

You were scared of telling Joel the truth, but not because your fear was of him, but because to you none of it should matter. You had him, you worked and you didn’t want to ruin that but not saying anything couldn’t be making Joel feel any better not knowing at this point.

The house was quiet, each step of your feet against the wood echoed uncomfortably. Ellie’s door was partially open, distracted by whatever it was she had been reading you peeked in and passed by undetected. You figured there was a little too much stirring in your mind for her at that moment. Joel’s door was also partially open, only this time you couldn’t just peak in and dash out.

Joel sat at the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees as brown eyes followed you both softly yet lost in their own thoughts. A faint yet new mark struck across his cheek, prompting you forward. Hand reaching up to look at him closely, Joel caught it before and kept them hovered between you before pulling to get you sitting beside him.

Worry swam through your veins as you looked him over for anything else but he clearly had gotten the better hit in. If Maria knew you pretty well, Joel knew you a thousand miles better. Already ahead of your mind, he half shrugged. “You mentioned what happened last night. I think you were half asleep, but it was enough get the picture.”

He let your hand rise up, thumb trail over the red mark with a feather light tenderness as your brows narrowed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you involved like this.”

An answer Joel did not aspire too. “I know you didn’t. Which is why I went to talk to him in the first place.” Biting the inside of your cheek, you hesitated in thought. “I’m not going to force you to tell me things, but that doesn’t mean I’m suddenly going to not care if your upset over it.”

From the scratching of his facial hair, your hand dropped down into your lap your head with it. “I-, it wasn’t that that upset me. I mean it was, but like, it wasn’t really about him.”

Joel’s eyes narrowed in thought, but let you take your time getting out what needed to be said. “If none of this makes any sense just stop me, because honestly I don’t even know if I understand myself here.”

The problem arose though, you didn’t really know what you wanted to say. The air between you both quiet and awkward, the longer it went on the longer sitting so close to Joel felt too close. Pushing up from the bed you mindlessly paced towards the drawer. Turned so your back was against the wood with your palms braced against them.

Joel said nothing. Knowing all too well how difficult it was to open up about certain things and how trying to talk you into feeling calm about it might only clam you up more. Your nails tapped rhythmically as you stared at Joel’s feet. Eyes sharp and face barley moving, it seemed to stupid to not know how to even say it.

“What uh, what he said did bother me. I mean he doesn’t know anything about us but it just took me off guard that he just started making shit up about you. So yeah, I was upset but I think it was more of...he started to just remind me of someone I travelled with for a while.” It was vague and there was no hope Joel would just leave it there.

Your palm moved against your forehead, the pressure failing to push away the anxiety inside of it. “Fuck. I didn’t-” Your heart pounded so hard you felt like it would burst from your chest in a gruesome horror, lungs lightening and the longer you waited even eyes shut the room felt like it was spinning.

Eyes glossy when you looked back up, and you hated the image in front of you. Joel’s arms braced on the bed ready to jump up, his own eyes so bright and big that flashed in a heart twisting softness that broke your heart as much. Leaving in the dark was worse, apparently.

So you spit it out, but not exactly in the way you meant it to sound. “I never did anything before. The night we slept together.” The room stopped spinning but now felt like the walls threatened to close in on you. Realization washing over his eyes, lips parted as he looked, well you weren’t sure. Upset?

“Or, I guess- fuck I don’t know. I mean it may have well been, all the stuff before wasn't anything like what happened with you, so, I mean it felt new.” Your arms crossed once more, but there was a stinging in your eyes that you hated.

Joel’s brow furrowed while he harshly fisted the sheets blow enough you could see the strain on his knuckles. His head turned away and that softness disappeared. It appeared to be taking a lot of will power to keep himself rooted in place. Through a clenched jaw he finally glanced back over. “What do you mean before? What happened?”

His tone wasn’t angry, it was distant and restrained but not something worse towards you. It left you feeling a little weird how much that alone relieved you. You looked up, trying to prevent any tears from slipping down but it felt futile.

The room either was too small or you became too big, and you found yourself crouching near the ground, hands on top of your head that hid your face from him. Back heaving from the deep breaths, your head snapped back up to Joel who now was nearer then ever to coming over to you. But he remained as you remained.

Pushing past the pounding of your heart, “Maria basically told me the reason Alex was acting the way he did, was because he was jealous. He likes me and I didn’t realize it and I guess it pissed him off, but I had no idea. The only person I’ve ever felt anything for like this, is you.” Your arms had crossed over your knees as you sat your chin into it. “I never knew how crushes and whatnot were supposed to work because I only know what it’s like with you. You were new for me. New for all of it.”

If only you could hear the pounding of Joel’s heart. His voice but a whisper, “You had never done anything before that night?” The bordering emotional apprehension in your eyes said more than Joel knew you could say at that second. Your name rolling off his tongue in a disbelief, “Everything you let me do, and you didn’t think I should know?”

You watched him get up, slowly make his way towards you as the shaking came back. Like your neck was dunked in freezing water but without the searing cold. “I thought you were satisfied enough that maybe you wouldn’t care.”

Joel was taken back, freezing in place as he once again treaded on an anger that he didn’t want you to think was at you. “What? No Jesus, this isn’t about me.” Nowhere to hide, Joel knelt down in front of you. Blazing brown eyes searching deep into your pain.

Without meaning to, your own voice raised but the choked emotions in your throat made it sound cracked. “Obviously it is because you’re angry at me.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but it certainly had more complicated feelings muffling it’s intent. “I’m angry because it was your first time, and you let me be that rough with you.”

Finally, you did yell. The words, the vitriol, the tears still burning your eyes, it all slapped him right in the face. “I didn’t think it mattered, Joel. I liked it, you thought it was okay, I didn’t think you would have cared. Because the guy before you sure as fuck didn’t.”

It was a miracle to Joel that he didn’t black out on the spot. Just watching you with heartbreak as you flew up from your place and paced around the room a hand once again pressed to your forehead. Voice this time, much more defeated. “I never told you because I didn’t even know where to start, and then it eventually didn’t feel like it mattered. What we had worked, and I figured it shouldn’t matter but apparently it does to me.”

You didn’t know when Joel approached, but you suddenly felt his figure tall over you and his warmth radiate your body. His hand hovered around but didn’t yet touch. “The only other time another person whose ever been around me the way you do was back then. But I didn’t know what the fuck was really going on, and I don’t even remember all of it but it happened and the way Alex was acting reminded me of it, and kept trying to say shit about you. Even though you’re the only one whose never made me feel fucking terrified about this shit, and I don’t know. I couldn’t tell anymore if lying to you or telling the truth would be worse.”

A sob almost flew from your mouth as Joel pulled your back into his chest. His nose nudging at the side of your head while he smoothed his hand over your front and hip. Waiting for you to let go some of that intensity in your stance. “I want you to listen to me. Okay?” His hand pulled your hip into his more at your nod. “You were more then okay that night. It was perfect because it was with you. I enjoyed myself because you enjoyed yourself. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to judge you for what some fucking-”

You could feel the hiss in his voice as he pulled himself back. His grip bruising on your body, but not in a way that flashed worse memories into your present. “No one deserves that, including you. So stop worrying I’m going to get angry for something you were forced into.”

Turning you in his arms to face him, his face was sharp but also embedded with desire far beyond the physical. Your hands lightly sat on his waist as one of his own cupped the side of your face. The hold this man had on you was ludicrous. The calm he graced you with never stopped being a shock. “There’s something else I want to admit.”

“Okay,” Joel’s voice was rough, his heart bracing for whatever else he couldn’t possibly predict.

Both of your thumbs slipped under his shirt and traced the bare skin you found, a shiver stemming from your fingertips up into your heart and spread warmth into Joel’s own. “I sort of braced myself for an argument, so I have no idea where the conversation is supposed to go from here.”

Huffing out a breath of laughter, Joel tilted your face up to his. Leaning down he sat above your lips and bumped his nose gently into yours. “You don’t have to say anything.” He tested his lips, a small press against yours, leaving you lightheaded and without noticing, chasing his barley pulled back kiss. “I’ve got you. No matter what.”

Your face in his neck, and Joel’s your hair, the safety of each others arms served as your breathe of life for quite a while. Words were neither of your forte’s, but this? This was.

By the time something substantial came to Joel’s mind, his hands had been running under your shirt over your hips and back. Pressing his lips to your ear he did however hissed your name, “Who was he-”

Smirking in his neck, a wave of need danced in between your legs at this deep roughness of such a tone. “I didn’t tell you just to make you do something about it, Joel.”

His knuckles stroked down your cheek, both that softness and a need that only felt safe with him grew that feeling inside you. “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t do it anyways.” Both of your grins and breathy laughs finally broke the painful, thick air consuming you. Nudging your nose once, twice, Joel kissed you properly.

His lips needy, but not too harsh and pouring as much of his soul into it as he was gifted. One of your hands exploring his bare chest. Palm flat and finding the softest parts and sighing into his mouth at how he felt. The other slid up behind his neck before scratching into his scalp, fingers entwined with the luscious, thick hair.

The pleasure sparked in his veins caused Joel to pull back, both of his hands moving to keep you at a distance by your upper arms. “We don’t need to do this right now, not after everything.”

You contemplated it, you really did. Something distant but sensible telling you to stand back and take the physical slow with healing emotions. However, you and Joel had already gone past that point. A confession that burned through your facade long past it’s prime. He already knew the worst parts of you now, and didn’t turn away at the ones past.

Hands now fidgeting in your lap, it was difficult once more to find words that made the right amount of sense. Your body wanted to say yes, but the protective way Joel looked at you confused your clarity. A few open and closes of your mouth before giving up in a chuckle, “I’m trying to say it’s fine, but I have no idea how to make it sound reassuring.”

Smoothing down your arms leaving goosebumps in his wake, you watched his jaw twitch in his own contemplation. Skipping your hands, you jumped slightly as he now trailed your hips and down to the tops of your thighs. Debating if his own desire would win out resolve. Fingers playing with the top of your pants waistline and a boyish glint in his eye and a smirk he failed to hold back. “Lay back for me.”

A wave of nerves rushed through you but leaving nothing but anticipation in place. Trying to lean down and take your shoes off first, Joel elected to just shove you up onto the bed with a huff. Kneeling back away from you to pull them off himself.

Large frame partially crawling up onto the bed so his face was level with your waist. Pushing up onto your elbows, you watched as he only slightly pushed the edge of your shirt up. Just enough to find a place for his mouth. Light presses of his lips, barley even a kiss but covered all he could see.

Brown eyes peeked up at you, eyebrows raised at your stare. Lips parted with muted stammering breaths and eyes wide dripping with far too much for you to associate one word with. His fingers tugged at your pants breathing more heavily himself. “Give me a hand here, sweetheart.”

Confusion rolled across your features until he gave another slight tug. Nodding as your eyes fluttered, heart racing, “Fuck- right, sorry.” Your arms moving to grasp the top of your head as it fell back into the pillow. Hips raising enough so Joel could strip your bottom half bare.

Tossing them behind you, Joel narrowed his eyes while a smirk played at his face. Crawling back up to hover over your face this time. “How many times are we going to have this lesson exactly?” The seriousness in his voice for whatever reason, slipped a giggle from your mouth. Joel trying to keep his face toned down, but his eyes didn’t match the sternness he wanted them to. “Alright, just remember this is all your doing.”

Moving down back to put his face level with your now bare half, you unthinkingly tried to placate the fake disappointment. “Wait,” Your tone sung out light and breathy. “I’m sorry-”

One of his hands slammed down flat onto the sheets beside you as he looked up with a look of incredulity that bordered on laughter. Breaking the mask immediately his voice dropping to such a flat tone as he just said your name.

Leaning up once more you did it all over again, “I know, I know I’m s-” Flying your hands to your face and collapsing back to the pillows as you tried to hide the now much louder laughter. The sound blending with the deep ones that vibrated against the bed from Joel.

Moving to splay your hands up around your head, you shook your head mostly at yourself as Joel did but also towards you. He himself moved to straddle your thighs, pulling his shirt off as he did so. “Jesus, you’re a mess.” Behind the faint light, the stature he loomed over you with you could see the dimple in his left cheek as he still smiled at you.

It was the lightest your heart felt in days, looking up at Joel this way. Smile and laughter on his face as he undressed himself with no bravado or show. Just wanting to feel your skin on his. “Getting tired of me already, Miller?”

Getting as far as his belt unbuckled and zipper pulled down, Joel situated himself properly. Taking your thighs into his hands and moving them. One wide, foot almost off the bed and the other draped gently over his shoulder. Mouth pressing more small kisses to your mound before resting his forehead in that very spot, his brown curls splayed over your skin.

Your limbs tensed as you felt heavy breathing between your legs, thinking he was trying to even out his breath. Muffled your chest pushed forward in need as he mumbled against you so close his nose was right near your clit. “Asking the impossible, sweet girl.”

Taking your response right out of your mouth by gracing you with his. Starting with good intentions, Joel’s gentle brushes of his tongue against your clit fell through at your high pitched gasp. Handfuls of your thighs now being left marks with his grip, Joel quickly moved downwards. Soaking you more with his saliva then you gave him to start with.

Tongue licking right back up to your clit and down again, each iteration of his path proving more aggressive then the other. More needy. One of his hands reached up to grip your waist and the other attached to your hip. His strength enough to pull you up to his mouth higher above the sheets as his tongue and lips send waves of pleasure through your core and up into your heart.

Back arching as his tongue slipped over the sensitive spot inside of you like he so greedily loved to exploit. The more intense he could make your orgasm, the more excuses he had to stay between your thighs. Licking and tasting you for hours.

Joel could lose himself, his cock in your mouth, but the taste of you on his, did far more. Hand on your thigh moved roughly across your skin to cup what of your pussy his mouth wasn’t touching. Rubbing his thumb harshly over your clit and groaning at how much more wet it made you. His dark eyes spying on how your hands scrunched in your hair as you tried to grind you hips to not lose his touch.

His name mumbling off your lips, Joel licked from your clit to as deep into your pussy he could get before pulling away. His facial hair a slight more wet then you saw him before. Sitting up as well as he could from his front splayed out on the bed, his call of your name was much more commanding then your mindless beg.

Two thick fingers slid into your pussy as Joel’s eyes shut and jaw clenched at how smoothly he could sink into you, yet how tight you felt around them already. Head dropped even though yours raised to his. He watched how slick you made his fingers, breathing harshly through his nose Joel was unable to stop himself from sliding in a third finger.

The gasping, “God- oh please.” It almost hurt to try so hard to focus on Joel. Your insides burned and twisted so much it threatened to reach your eyes. His nostrils flared as he looked over you pumping fingers with as much vigor as his mouth had.

Joel hovered his palm over your body, up to the ceiling as he stroked his thumb over you. “Come here.”

It genuinely took you a moment to realize he wanted your hand, but when you returned the gesture Joel kept it soft. Pulling it up to his mouth. The scratching of his slightly wet facial hair against the warm kiss he pressed to the back of your hand. The movement forcing you to sit up enough that his fingers slid deep without him having to thrust them back himself.

Joel rested it over his shoulder, and cupped the side of your neck, mumbling your name. “Do you feel good, sweetheart?”

It wasn’t mocking, teasing, no patronizing joy. He looked so serious for how out of breathe and falling apart he was making you underneath him. You nodded, but he narrowed his eyes. Bumping the bottom of your chin up with a knuckle, you leaned up more to his mouth. “Yes, yes. You- fuck. You always make me feel so good,”

Something that looked more animalistic snarled against his face, leaning his lips to brush over yours as he spoke. “This is how you deserve to feel, understand? No less.” Unable to stop his lack of self control, Joel roughly kissed you. His tongue making you taste yourself as he licked into your mouth before pulling back. Your mouths both wet and his kiss sloppy. “I’ve got you, and I always will.”

Nodding, your core tensed up as his three fingers mixed with the harsh pressure on your clit started to hiccup your breathe. “I- I...” The closer he brought you to orgasm the harder it was to speak, but Joel understood you. He always does.

Nodding he tucked your face into his neck for a moment. “I know, sweetheart. Me too. Now you’re going to cum for me.” Letting you fall back onto the sheets, Joel moved so quickly that he yanked your hips up to his mouth after shuffling back. “Let me have a taste, okay?”

His mouth licking into your pussy deep and soaked even more, you nodded as tears slowly made their way down the corner of your eyes. “Anything you want, anything,”

You think he might have mumbled something as he tasted you but it wasn’t loud enough over the wet sounds his mouth made on you. His hands bruising tight as he held you, your body arching and tensing as the white hot coiling pleasure found its breaking point.

Joel kept your hips pinned to the bed as he took everything you had. Your orgasm snapped, name cried from his mouth as you slammed both hands over it to stay quiet but the muffle still danced in Joel’s ears. “Good girl, perfect fucking cunt.”

The noise in your body and head didn’t die down however. It trailed off into more and more winding pleasure as you gasped Joels name. The shake of his head between your legs making you moan even more. Joel’s fingers wasted no time in replacing his mouth as he leaned up.

Kiss once again just as sloppy and soaked as your pussy was. He painted the inside of your mouth with your taste on his tongue. Barley able to make himself pull back, he cupped the back of your head to keep you looking into his eyes.

“I told you, I got you. Just lay back for me, that’s all I want you to do.” He left you with one last kiss to your lips before settling down between you once more.

Hardly realizing that barley a few minutes into getting his mouth on you again had Joel’s hips grinding into the sheets until soaking his jeans. You watched as he sat up aggressively, almost frustrated at the interruption, tearing them off and leaving him completely naked. Cock wet with his own precum and still half hard before moving back.

Joel didn’t take you that way, as far as you knew. His tongue inside you and muffled words coaxing you to relax into sleep. Deep in your dreams a pleasure your unconscious mind didn't quite grapple continued to stay with you.

You weren’t sure if Joel fucked you, or just the bed so much that it kept your thighs and the sheets sticky even as you both woke up in the others arms in the early hours of the morning. Though Joel was quite serious about not having sex with you while asleep when you asked, though something about the shy flash in your eye and interestingly nervous fidget had his cock stir way too early.

Kissing his way up your neck to your ear, “Just can’t stop being so filthy can you?” There was neither a firm yes or no that morning, but it didn’t stop both of you from thinking about it the rest of the day.

You and Joel looked nothing like the calm harmony that his brother had, but it worked. He let you in a long time prior, and you kept discovering that he would accept your pasts without fuss.

To your amusement however, on his snarkier days, Joel did indeed make you playfully feel stupid for thinking he’d ever see you otherwise.

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