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cherienymphe · 3 months

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Teenage Dirtbag VII (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

{Happy MLK weekend! He would've wanted this!}

Your back rested against your headboard with your gaze fixed on your mirror on the other side of the room. You were staring at yourself, but not really. Your mind was somewhere else entirely, and you chewed on your lip as Rafe’s even breathing filled your ears. You glanced at him, taking in his sleeping form before meeting your own gaze in the reflection again.

You’d done many things to bring on Rafe’s wrath, most of them harmless. It happened so often that you now lived your life completely differently, hyperaware of every thought and every action from both you and him. After all, you had to learn from your mistakes, right? You had to guess the best course of action to avoid a violent outcome. It was always something harmless…

…but almost kissing JJ Maybank was not harmless.

Sneaking off to The Cut with Sarah and her friends was bad enough. There was no telling how Rafe would react if he knew…but almost kissing JJ? The thought of Rafe finding out about that was so nerve-wracking that it actually made you shudder. It didn’t even feel like something that actually happened at times because…you knew better. It was something so incredibly stupid that you couldn’t have done it…and yet…

You still thought about how close he’d been. You thought about that calming natural scent of him that was just so different from what you were used to being around. You thought about his nose touching yours, his chest grazing yours, and it wasn’t shocking that JJ wanted to kiss you. It wasn’t even shocking that he tried. What was shocking was that you wanted to kiss him too, that some part of you wanted to let it happen.

You frowned, sliding out of bed with a racing heart.

Was it that shocking though? Rafe was horrible to you…and JJ wasn’t. The other blond was nice and funny and his own history with abuse drew you to him. It didn’t help matters that JJ wasn’t afraid of Rafe in the slightest. You didn’t want to linger on just how dangerous that could prove to be, thinking to yourself that it had been so long since a guy talked to you and treated you like your own person capable of your own decisions.

It felt good…and you felt guilty for that.

Rafe was still your boyfriend…even if he wasn’t a very good one, and JJ made it clear that he didn’t respect that. Even more so now that he suspected something was very very off about your relationship. The look in his eyes that day was something you still thought about—the determination. It bothered you that you couldn’t tell if it was determination to find out the truth or determination for something else entirely.

Maybe both.

You leaned against your window, staring out into your yard with a heavy chest. Never in a million years did you think you’d find your mind caught between Rafe and JJ Maybank. You’d long written the other guy off as dangerous, but maybe you had a hand in this too. In some ways, you had encouraged him, even without realizing it, and maybe this was you paying the price.

Both your thoughts and your gaze drifted to the pool house.

You knew JJ had finally taken you up on your offer. You had seen a faint light on one night while everyone was asleep, and you remembered the way your heart stuttered at the realization. You had stared out of your window for hours—even long after the inside went completely dark—just frozen with the knowledge that JJ was only so many feet away. You hadn’t talked to him since that day at the Camerons’, but you definitely saw him in passing a few times, and you always pretended not to know.

You’d done so to be nice, to offer him a safe haven away from his father, but you couldn’t deny the temptation you felt to go to him. Just to talk. Just to be around someone who reminded you of what your life was like before that fateful nineteenth birthday. Just talking to JJ felt so natural and relaxing, and your heart ached when you remembered how happy you felt with him and his friends…but then you remembered his nose touching yours and his lips being so close to yours, and you’d feel…nauseous.

Rafe would snap your neck if he knew.

…and with that thought you turned away from the window.

You could not let yourself get caught up with JJ Maybank. He liked trouble and he hated Rafe and you were the perfect opportunity to take part in both. You weren’t stupid. You knew that some of your appeal had to come from your proximity to Rafe. You were “Rafe’s girl”, you had been for two years, and JJ wasn’t as mysterious as he probably liked to believe. You knew that he would absolutely relish taking you from him, even if only for a night, and you refused to be that stupid.

No matter how much the thought made your stomach flip.

You had only ever been with Rafe, and you’d long accepted that he was only who you’d ever be with, everyone on this God forsaken island fearing him and his influence too much to even try it. However, with the new presence of JJ Maybank in your life, you couldn’t help but to wonder what it would be like to sleep with someone who didn’t terrify you.

Even your first time with Rafe—when you’d still been in love with him—had been wrought with fear and pain and confusion. It was a hard truth to swallow, but you realized that you’d never experienced sex without fear. That made you incredibly sad, and you blinked back tears as you slid back into bed. It was wrong, and you could never act on it, but for a split second—as you laid down next to your boyfriend—you briefly entertained the thought of lying down underneath JJ Maybank.

You swallowed down a sigh as you watched Rafe snort another line, Kelce’s laugh reaching your ears as your boyfriend mumbled something that was evidently hilarious. The music from the party was muffled, and you brought your cup up to take another sip of some beer you didn’t even like. When Rafe said you both were going to some party, you’d actually expected to be at the party.

However, with one sweep around the room, Rafe realized that the party wasn’t as exclusive as he’d like, and he’d holed you both up in a room with Topper and Kelce ever since. Topper was scrolling on his phone while Kelce and Rafe played hot potato with the drugs in their possession. Truthfully, you didn’t see why Rafe refused to party downstairs all because a few Pogues were in attendance. Especially since if you’d figured this was how your night was going to go, you would have just stayed home.

Ever since Rafe got back from Charleston, he’d been on you like white on rice, but of course, your presence didn’t matter much once a few white lines were placed on a mirror. Swallowing down yet another sigh, you pushed yourself off of the wall and made your way to the window. There were far too many people in the yard and pool for you to be comfortable with, but anything seemed better than this.

You were downing the rest of your beer when someone caught your eye.

Your hand lowered, and your lips parted, thinking to yourself that this party was far less exclusive than Rafe knew. You supposed it wasn’t that weird to see JJ strolling into the yard, especially since he was with Sarah, but the sight of the familiar blond had you swallowing. Knowing that he was at the same party as you made you feel anxious for so many reasons.

“I have to use the bathroom.”

The words came out before you could stop them, silently wondering to yourself what you were doing. When you turned around, Rafe’s gaze was on you, and you didn’t think you liked the look you saw there. Your boyfriend’s lips were pressed together as he eyed you, and you didn’t miss his snort.

“Yeah, the last time you ‘went to the bathroom’ I had to track you down on the streets of Kildare County…all because you wanted some ‘air’.”

You rolled your eyes at both his tone and his words.

“I’ve been drinking beer for an hour. You want me to pull my pants down and pee in front of your friends? My bladder’s too full to be as embarrassed about that as you would be,” you threw at him, jutting your hip out.

The flare of Rafe’s nostrils didn’t escape you, and after a stretched silence, he merely jerked his head. You pretended not to feel the heat of his gaze as he watched you leave, and once the door was shut, you headed for the stairs instead. While you did need to throw your cup away, it wasn’t like there wasn’t a trash can in the bathroom. However, you wouldn’t admit to yourself the real reason you came downstairs.

On your way to and from the kitchen, you craned your neck, eyes scanning over familiar face after familiar face…but just not the one you wanted to see. You refused to acknowledge the disappointment that ate at you, and telling yourself that you didn’t want to push your luck with Rafe, you quickly hurried up the stairs because you did actually have to pee.

Despite how much you wanted to hide out in the bathroom, you made your visit quick, telling yourself it’d be just your luck for Rafe to give the drugs a break to time your absence instead. There was no telling what time Rafe would decide to leave, and you grimaced at the thought of what the night had in store for you. You’d just opened the door and turned out the bathroom light when a grip on your arm was pulling you down the hall.

It happened so fast that you didn’t have time to process what was going on until your eyes passed over the back of a familiar head of blond hair. Your lips parted, too many conflicting emotions bubbling up inside of you for you to focus on just one. However, once JJ had you around the corner, fear quickly trumped the others.

“Are you drunk?”

Your question came out harsher than you meant, and—true to what you were learning was JJ fashion—the guy before you ignored it.

“I saw you downstairs.”

Your heart skipped a beat at that, and you straightened. His blond hair was messier than usual, something you noted you kind of liked, and the long-sleeved shirt he wore was kind of big on him. You glanced at the way it just barely hung on his shoulder.

“You looked like you were looking for someone.”

His next words pulled you from your thoughts, and your gaze met his. That small smirk on his lips annoyed you, and you took a deep breath.

“I wasn’t. Is that what you followed me up here for?” you wondered.

JJ didn’t look like he believed you, but he clearly opted to let it go.

“When’s the next time you’re coming to the other side of the island?” he asked. “They kind of like you…even Kie.”

You felt your face fall at that, almost wishing that they didn’t. It would certainly make things easier, but knowing that his friends enjoyed having you around just as much as you enjoyed being around them… You honestly didn’t know if you’d ever hang out with them again, and that was what you told JJ.

“Why?” he scoffed. “…because of Rafe?”

You both knew your verbal answer wasn’t required.

“I get it, okay? I’m JJ. I’m a guy who also happens to hate him, but you can’t even have friends? You’re telling me he’d really lose his shit if you dared to tell him you’re going to hang out Sarah and whoever?”

“Those are your friends…not mine,” you weakly replied. “Just because I hung out with you guys for one day-.”

“Don’t give me that,” JJ cut you off with a frown. “Until that day I didn’t even know you could smile that wide.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, clenching your jaw. JJ wasn’t wrong, and that was why the whole situation sucked. You didn’t have it in you to tell him that you loved being around him and his friends and his environment only to immediately admit that Rafe would choke the shit out of you for even daring to talk to him.

“I should get back,” was all you said, ignoring his words.

“For what? It’s not like you don’t have time. I doubt Rafe is going to pull himself away from the drugs long enough to notice how long you’ve been gone,” JJ said with a shrug, judgement coloring his tone. “…besides I…”

JJ trailed off, a peculiar look on his face as he eyed you.

“That’s not only why I followed you up here.”

You struggled to hold his gaze, the sound of some cheers reaching your ears from downstairs. You had a feeling as to what JJ was going to say, and you desperately hoped that he wouldn’t. Some part of you was even tempted to just walk away and avoid this conversation forever if you could. However, another part of you desperately wanted to stay right where you were, remaining still even when JJ moved closer.

“The last time we talked,” he quietly started, eyes searching yours. “I was a little harsh…and I’m sorry.”

You swallowed.

“…but I don’t regret anything I said, just how I said it, I guess.”

You glanced away, eyeing the wallpaper in the hallway.

“I don’t regret anything I did either.”

Your eyes snapped to his at that, and you felt your heart racing. You could see it on his face that JJ was telling the truth, and you didn’t know how you felt about that.

“I would’ve kissed you…if you hadn’t run away,” JJ whispered in the dark hallway, and you exhaled. “Right in his house.”

“You…can’t do that,” was all you could bring yourself to say.

When JJ stepped towards you, you were finally forced to step back, shoulder grazing the wall. He tilted his head at you, eyes never leaving yours.

“Says who?” he wondered, tone serious. “Your boyfriend?”

He swiped his tongue between his lips, crowding your space, and the mention of Rafe reminded you that you’d been gone a long while, now.

“…because we both know it won’t be you.”

Those words had your nostrils flaring, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“You ran away because you’re scared of Rafe…not because you didn’t want to kiss me.”

You hated how right JJ was, and you couldn’t even find the words to argue that.

“So what?” was all you could say, not even denying it. “Rafe’s my boyfriend, and you…are not. Sue me for being loyal.”

“I don’t think it counts if you’re loyal for the wrong reasons,” he threw back, and you scoffed.

“Are there wrong reasons for being faithful?” you incredulously asked.

“Well, being scared into it for one.”

You didn’t appreciate his tone, and you moved to turn away when he grabbed your arm again. When JJ pulled you against him, you sharply inhaled, and you reminded yourself that you really needed to get back to Rafe…your boyfriend. The heat of JJ’s hand bled through the sleeves of your dress, and against what your brain advised, you found your gaze drifting to his lips.

“I know you don’t want to be with him,” he breathed, and you blinked, eyes meeting his again. “Does he have something on you? Is it…some…Kook appearance thing I just don’t understand?”

Hating how many questions he was asking, you twisted out of his hold, stumbling away.

“Stay out of my relationship, JJ. I’m serious,” you threw over your shoulder.

You said it for both of your sakes, and you left the blond in the hall as you hurried back to the bedroom. Kelce and Rafe were playing their own music, the full effects of the coke hitting them, and you were beyond grateful. It seemed Rafe had been too high to notice just how long you were gone, and so all you could do was smile at him when he welcomed you with a sloppy kiss.

Topper was finally joining in when you glanced over, bent over the desk and snorting half a line.

“Bro, when I went downstairs to get a drink, you know who I saw?” the younger blond chuckled, wiping his nose. “Fucking Pope and your sister, man.”

Your heart had skipped a beat, only to relax when he continued. However, his next words shortened your relief as well as caused Rafe to pull away from you.

“How much you want to bet that piece of shit JJ is here too?”

You pressed your lips together at the mention of the guy who you’d literally just been in the hallway with, and you hated the way Rafe’s hands briefly tightened on yours. Your boyfriend let out a laugh that held no trace of humor, sadly shaking his head.

“Yeah, lets get out of here,” he scoffed. “Unbelievable.”

You hated the way Rafe pulled you along like being in the same house as people from the other side of the island was the worst thing imaginable. Doubly so ever since you’d gotten to know Sarah’s friends. You thought about what JJ said, about how they’d grown to like you, and this moment only reminded you that you would probably never experience that again.

As if to make you feel worse, you watched Rafe briefly pause once he was downstairs, and one glance around him clued you in on just what he was looking at. Perhaps ‘who’ was a more appropriate term, and your heart sank as Rafe strode along, pulling you with him. You were unsurprised—but no less disappointed and annoyed—when Rafe harshly bumped into JJ’s shoulder. Your eyes were wide when they glanced at JJ just as Rafe spoke.

“My bad, man,” your boyfriend drawled. “It’s a bit crowded in here.”

Nothing about Rafe’s tone was apologetic, and you pressed your lips together at the sight of a half-smile on his pink lips. Your eyes briefly met JJ’s, pleading as you could see the desire for a fight on his face. You knew that it wasn’t solely because Rafe had bumped into him, and when he glanced at you, he only scoffed.

“Very Rafe of you, Rafe,” JJ commented.

It was a harmless comment, but the coke in Rafe’s system wouldn’t allow him to let it go. Dropping your hand, he moved closer to the other blond, head tilted to the side.

“What did you say to me, Pogue? Huh?”

“Rafe…” you called reaching for him, but he shook your hand off.

His face was so close to JJ’s, and through the crowd, you could see Pope and Sarah hurrying over. When you looked over your shoulder, Kelce and Topper were only now coming down the stairs, unaware of the disaster about to happen. Wanting to prevent this fight for so many reasons, you grabbed Rafe’s arm again, pleading with him.

“Rafe, let’s just go.”

You didn’t know if it was the coke or Rafe’s second nature of putting his hands on you, but he didn’t even spare you a glance when he shoved you away, his hand on your chest forcing you to stumble back.

“Stay out of this,” he said, finally looking at you.

It was something he’d come to regret because JJ’s fist had connected with his face before he could even turn back around. You stumbled back some more in shock, recalling the last time they fought and just how violent and bloody it became. The party inside came to a temporary halt as everyone took notice, and by the time Kelce and Topper came over, Pope had joined in too.

Some part of you wanted to leave. After all, Rafe had gotten himself into this mess, but another part of you forced you to remain rooted to the spot. You wanted to make sure everyone would be okay, one above the rest, and oddly it wasn’t the blond that was your boyfriend.

You jumped when Sarah made her way to you, her hand on your arm as she pulled you close.

“Are you okay?” she asked as you watched some guys try to break up the fight.

You knew what she was referring to, and you nodded.

“Rafe’s high and…more agitated than usual,” you defended.

You only realized how it sounded when Sarah gave you a look.

“So? He shouldn’t shove you like that,” she spat, throwing her brother a nasty look as Kelce helped him to his feet.

You blanched at the blood on his face, recalling that both JJ and Pope had been fighting him, and it was clear your boyfriend was very angry about that fact. He barely spared Sarah a glance as he roughly told you to come on. Assuring Sarah that you’d be fine—even with coke in his system—you reluctantly followed after your boyfriend.

However, not without a glance over your shoulder. Your eyes met familiar blue ones, and your face fell at the anger still visible on JJ’s face. Telling yourself that was something you couldn’t concern yourself with, now, you hurried outside. Rafe was obnoxiously honking his horn as you hurried to his truck, and you were barely inside before he was speeding off.

You tuned Kelce and Topper out as they placated Rafe from the backseat, somehow convincing themselves that this wasn’t his own fault. Your gaze was fixed on the window as you crossed your arms over your chest, hating yourself for only being concerned about JJ and Pope in this moment. You hadn’t gotten the best look at either of them and even though it was two against one, you knew your boyfriend well.

He was never one to go down without a fight.

“…and what the hell was that about, huh?”

It took you too long to realize that the focus had shifted to you, and when you glanced over, Rafe’s blown out pupils were fixated on you.

“What?”

“You know what,” he spat between clenched teeth, glancing at the road. “What was with you and trying to stop me from kicking that Pogue’s ass?”

You blinked at him, unable to hide your feelings at his audacity.

“We were at a party, Rafe, and you were trying to start a fight. Was I just supposed to let that happen?” you wondered.

The other two in the backseat had grown quiet, either from nosiness or no desire to get in between Rafe and his girlfriend.

“It was JJ,” he slowly said to you. “Who gives a fuck if I give JJ a well-deserved beating?”

“Well, how did that turn out? Did you get what you wanted?”

The words slipped from your mouth so easily, and the look that Rafe gave you cut deep. He glanced at you again before a slow smile spread along his bloody lips, a chuckle escaping. When he reached over to rest his hand on the back of your neck, you swallowed. A shudder passed through you at the feel of his fingers tracing patterns into your skin.

“You better be glad that all I want to do tonight is find those Pogues and knock their teeth out,” he mumbled.

His words sounded so loud to you in the vehicle though, and despite how much you wanted to argue against that, you knew that you could never tell Rafe what to do. When he parked in your driveway, you didn’t spare him a glance as you hopped out, but you were sort of forced to when you heard him follow behind you.

His truck was still running, so you could only hope to guess what he wanted as he followed you to your door. Once there, he roughly grabbed your arm—so tight that you winced—and you leaned away when he got very close to your face. You eyed the blood on his own face, the messiness of his dark blond hair, and you prepared yourself for anything as he sneered at you.

“The next time you try to get between me like that, the next time you try to protect some Pogue, I’ll break your fucking fingers,” he hissed, nose pressed to yours. “Do you understand me?”

With the pain of Rafe’s fingers digging into your arm, you gave him a shaky nod. He roughly let you go, and you reached up to rub the sore spot, watching your boyfriend make his way back to his truck. Considering how high and angry he was, you didn’t expect him back for hours. You doubted that Pope and JJ were even still at that party, almost positive they’d left when you guys did, but knowing Rafe…

He'd drive around Outer Banks for hours just to find them and get them back.

With a shaky sigh, you turned and reached for your keys, but your movements were halted by a faint noise. You merely glanced up, not giving it much thought, but pausing in surprise when you saw none other than JJ standing in the doorway of the pool house on the other side of the yard. You almost dropped your small purse, gathering your thoughts before worriedly looking out into the road. With no sign of Rafe’s truck, you hurriedly stomped across the grass.

“You don’t know how many fences I hopped over and backyards I trespassed on to beat you here.”

That was his greeting to you, and you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was simply trying to lighten the tense atmosphere. You didn’t have the patience.

“Why did you hit him?” you demanded, and you watched JJ’s face cloud over. “I was going to get him to leave, to leave you alone.”

All traces of humor were gone from the blonde’s face, and you hated the way he looked down his nose at you.

“Was that supposed to be before or after he shoved you again?”

You snapped your mouth shut, frowning at the younger man. His blue eyes didn’t look so blue in this moment, and you didn’t miss the tick in his jaw as he stared you down. You blinked at JJ, your frown dissipating some as the realization slowly came to you.

“That’s why you hit him?” you slowly wondered.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he breathed. “Did I need any other reason?”

You opened and closed your mouth a few times before letting out a sigh. You glanced away, shoulders dropping, and you gently shook your head.

“JJ…” you looked at him. “Rafe was high…agitated… That was nothing, and especially nothing to start a fight over.”

“He shoved you!”

“…but I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me,” you tried to make him understand. “Just pissed me off more than anything.”

“…and at your door?”

Your heart sank with the knowledge that he saw that, and you let out a long sigh. You could feel the blonde’s gaze on you as your own found the ground.

“So, he grabbed me,” you said, shrugging at him. “You’re making this more important than it is.”

JJ looked at you like you were crazy, pulling his lip between his teeth.

“…because it is important, Y/N…” you were sure that the only other time you’d heard JJ say your name was the night of that first fight on the beach. “Your boyfriend isn’t supposed to shove you and grab you like that…”

How could you tell JJ that Rafe had already done so much worse? That in the grand scheme of things, a little shove and a tight grip really didn’t mean all that much to you? All things considered, today was a relatively good day when taking into account how things could’ve ended. How they still could end…

As if JJ read your mind…

“He doesn’t have to smack you around and put you in the hospital to be an abusive piece of shit,” he softly continued. “He shouldn’t be touching you like that…no matter how minor you think it is.”

It felt…odd to be standing in your yard having this conversation with JJ Maybank of all people. Even more odd, his concern for you left an unfamiliar feeling in your chest. You could only describe it as warm, and you knew that he was right, that no matter how minor, none of it was okay. However, your relationship with Rafe had left ‘not okay’ territory so long ago that what happened today just didn’t faze you.

When you glanced up, JJ was staring at you, and despite the fact that your house was just on the other side of the yard…it felt like just the two of you.

“I would never…touch you like that,” he told you, stepping towards you. “No matter how angry at you I am…there’s just some things you don’t do.”

You struggled to swallow.

“You’re not my boyfriend, JJ…he is.”

“I know,” he quietly said. “…and you know I think you deserve a better boyfriend.”

“Of course, you think that,” you bitterly laughed. “You… Don’t try and make it seem like your intentions are pure.”

You tilted your head.

“You like the idea of fucking with Rafe.”

JJ raised an eyebrow at you.

“I could think of a thousand more ways to fuck with Rafe that don’t involve fucking his girlfriend.”

Your eyes widened sharply at that, and you blinked, fighting to ignore the heat in your face at his honesty. You felt paralyzed as JJ took another step towards you, and you were struggling to respond. JJ’s hand gently touched your cheek, and you shuddered at the feel. This didn’t go unnoticed, and you didn’t know why you didn’t stop him when his hand slid to brush along your neck too.

“You’re right,” JJ whispered, looking between your eyes. “I do like the idea of fucking with Rafe.”

Your chest felt so heavy, heart threatening to leap from it.

“…but I like the idea of being with you just a little bit more.”

“JJ,” you warned, reaching up to grab his hand.

His other found a home on the small of your back, and you reached back to grab that one too. You were sure it made an interesting sight—JJ trying to embrace you, and you with a half assed attempt to stop him. You ducked your head, but that didn’t prevent him from brushing his lips over your cheek, and you sucked in a sharp breath.

“I don’t respect your relationship, and I especially don’t care about your boyfriend,” he murmured against your skin. “…and you not wanting to kiss me solely because you’re afraid of him just isn’t good enough for me.”

You lifted your head at that, eyes stricken as you looked at him. His hand on your back twisted, clasping your own and holding it tight. Your nerves grew at that, and JJ’s face was serious as he gave you his undivided attention.

“Would you feel better if I just took it?” he wondered, making you frown. “I mean…”

He moved back, taking you with him.

“If I make you kiss me…then you’re not cheating, right?”

You furiously blinked at him at that, and despite how much you wanted to shake your head, you found yourself glancing at his lips instead. JJ spun you, and your back met the wall of the pool house. With nowhere to go, JJ pressed himself against you, and your breathing grew shallow. A voice in the back of your mind told you that he was right.

Some part of you didn’t want to be a willing participant in this, at all while another part desperately wondered what it would be like to kiss him. With you pinned against the wall, you could appeal to both parts, and you surmised that it was evident in your eyes because after swiftly pinning your wrists at your side…

JJ brushed his lips against yours.

It could barely be called a kiss at first, just the faintest touch of his lips to yours, but then you closed your eyes…and let out a sigh you didn’t know you’d been holding…and JJ completely swallowed it. His mouth completely covered yours as he deepened the kiss, one of his hands letting yours go to reach up and rest on your neck. You moaned at the action, and your head spun.

Kissing JJ felt like something you hadn’t felt in years. It reminded you of the beginning of your relationship with Rafe, when you weren’t afraid and apprehensive to lean up and press your lips to your boyfriend’s. Back when kissing him didn’t feel like a chore, an exchange, a plea from you to remain unharmed and an unsteady promise from Rafe that he’d no doubt break.

The feel of JJ’s lips moving against yours made heat swirl deep in your gut, and it twisted and twisted until you squirmed between him and the wall of the pool house. JJ’s other hand was on your waist, now, holding you in place, and it felt like everywhere he touched burned. You honestly could’ve let him kiss you all night, not sparing a second thought to Rafe.

…but unfortunately, that never lasted long, and your hands met JJ’s chest the moment cold blue eyes appeared behind your own. Your breathing was heavy, JJ’s too, and you stared at your fingers on his chest for a long time. You almost didn’t believe what had just happened, but the heat clinging to your skin helped ground you to reality and the fact that it very much had.

When you finally met JJ’s gaze again, you wished that you hadn’t.

The blond looked like the last thing he wanted to do was stop, and you started to wonder what was worse—JJ yearning for something he didn’t even know…or JJ yearning for something he did? Your pink lip-gloss was all over his lips, and you just stared at the sight for a few seconds before swallowing, very aware of the tightness in your throat. You slowly slid from between him and the wall, and he let you, hand grazing your waist as you moved by him.

You felt like you were in a daze, walking on something unsteady like air or water. All you could manage to tell JJ was ‘goodnight’, stumbling back towards your house. You only looked over your shoulder once when you made it to your door, unsurprised to find JJ still standing there and watching you. You were quiet going into the house, and several parts of you were fighting.

On one hand, you were beyond terrified of what you’d just allowed to happen, and what that meant for you if you couldn’t hide it. The possibility of Rafe’s wrath had you shaking as you undressed the moment you made it to your room. On the other hand, some part of you was too focused on the memory of JJ’s lips to care. You couldn’t cool off no matter how much you tried, lying in bed for hours and staring at the wall.

When Rafe finally returned, you welcomed his apologies, actually receptive to his advances for once. It felt wrong to let him kiss you and touch you and fuck you all the while with an entirely different blond in mind.

#jj maybank x reader #dark!jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #dark!jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #obx #outer banks

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moonlitdesertdreams · 2 days

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Stuck like glue

Request: "I'm going to scream your domestic character joining coop on his travels from her cabin is SO good 😭 I was wondering if you would write something with the same character in her cabin when coop turns up from nearby having taken one too many bullets? Or maybe he's sick and needs some jet. Some hurt/comfort fluffy sweetness" A/N: Thank you to the awesome anon who sent the idea! Maybe not AS fluffy as we wanted, but there's for sure some soft Ghoul going on in here. And, oh yeah, the reader has a dog now. No description of said dog has been given, so please imagine as you'd wish. Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, brief mentions of sexual interaction. Summary: Your favorite Ghoul needs to be patched up after a spat with some Raiders, and you always know just how to make him feel better.

Word Count: 2.0k+

Gif credit to @elisefrost from this set

You’re outside attempting to hang clothes to dry when you hear it.

The soft but distinct sound of jingling metal comes from behind your cabin. You set one hand on the pistol strapped to your thigh and walk in that direction, eyes peeled for any movement. A bark echoes the sound from your porch, and you snap at your four-legged companion in an attempt to get him to stay.

“Tiger!” You hiss. “Quit!”

He relents with an indignant huff and returns to the porch, while the metallic noise keeps up in a steady pattern, akin to the cadence of a slow walk. You tilt your head at the thought and eventually move the hand off your pistol; only one person would dare tread this close in broad daylight with such carelessness.

“Coop?”

You don’t see him anywhere, but you’re almost certain it was the sounds of his old spurs that caught your attention.

“Cooper if you’re tryna scare me, you know I'll gut you.” The threat is an empty one, but saying it gives you some hope that it’s indeed him and not a Raider or Slaver looking to score some loot.

“No need, babydoll.” His voice sounds ragged, tired. “Don’t think I could scare a bunny rabbit at the moment.”

You follow his voice to your left, and find the Ghoul leaned up against a tree. He’s practically swaying in the breeze, very apparently unsteady. You rush over just as he slides down and collides with the dirt..

“Cooper! What happened to you?”

Your hands flutter up and down his arms, brusquely checking for any injuries. Nothing obvious jumps out at you, but he heals fast and external wounds are rare. A wheeze claws its way up his throat and morphs into a hacking cough. You recognize the sound as the need for a Vial, and grab at his bag.

“Do you have any on you?”

A stuttered cough answers. “Fresh out… s’why I came here.”

Your stash of Vials had been growing just about as long as you’d known Cooper. When you traveled together, he’d hand some off to you for safekeeping, and there always ended up being extras. Upon your return home, he’d tell you to keep them. It wasn’t shocking, given that he found his way back every couple of days.

“Alright, come on.” You crouch down and position yourself beneath Cooper’s arm.

You can tell he’s weak by the way he leans into you, knees wobbling relentlessly as you pull him up. Another round of coughing wracks his body and you squeeze him reassuringly.

“Couch isn’t far.” You chose your words carefully, avoiding any inkling of pity. Having an already deteriorating Ghoul is enough, let alone a defensive one who hates being pitied.

Cooper does his best to keep up with your steps, but his movements are sloppy and uncoordinated. You can feel the heat radiating off of him through his jacket and hear him wheezing beside your ear. Stepping onto the porch gives him some trouble, but you manage to haul him up and inside the door. Tiger whines nervously, circling the pair of you as you trek inside. The Ghoul collapses onto the couch as soon as it’s within reach.

After making sure Cooper’s not going to slide off the couch, you continue to the med-kit in your makeshift kitchen. The Vials are hidden at the very bottom, wrapped in cloth for extra cushion to prevent shattering. You decide there’s more than enough for him to take two, and carefully extract the mysterious chem.

Cooper’s laid out on his back when you return with the Vials. One arm is thrown over his eyes and the other dangling off the side of the couch with Tiger perched beneath. The dog nuzzles his favorite person’s hand for attention, and it elicits a chuckle from you. Even as the only conscious person in the room, you were still second in Tiger’s eyes.

“Coop.” You shake his shoulder gently. “Hey. Hey. Where’s your inhaler?”

You nudge his hat away and he blinks slowly. “Mmm.”

“Ok then.” You mutter and pat down his jacket, searching for the contraption he always carries. The coat yields no results, and you pat down his pants until you feel it tucked away into the pocket at his hip. “Finally.”

Cooper shuffles ever so slightly when you slip your hand into his pocket. “H-hey now. I know you love me, baby, but I-I ain’t got it in me right now.”

An errant smile pushes its way onto your lips. You snap the meds into place on his inhaler

“Open up.”

He fails to heed your instructions, and you ultimately end up forcing the inhalant into his mouth. It never works instantly, but within a minute or so of administering it there’s movement. One of Cooper’s hands lifts to cup yours, puffing on the inhaler again.

You release your hold on it and rock back onto the balls of your feet. It’s then you take note of the holes in his clothing, and run a hand down his chest. There’s numerous holes, some as big as your finger and others no larger than a pinhead.

“Cooper, what happened to you?” You sit on the edge of the couch beside him as he takes his first deep breath without Chems.

“I just turn’d in a bounty and some Raiders jumped me.” He looks down at your hand on his chest. “Bastards shot me ten or eleven times. Damn buckshot got me good.”

You nod. “I can tell. You were in a bad way, Coop.”

The Ghoul sits up slowly beside you so his legs can swing off the couch. “I’ll be good as new, soon as this stuff starts workin’ good.”

Tiger hops up on the couch next to him, tail wagging with excitement. The dog licks your cheek on his way to Cooper and pushes his nose into the Ghoul’s shoulder. You chuckle at the interaction, patting the dog’s shoulders. Coopers are still hunched with exhaustion, and his deep-set eyes look even more so.

“Well until they do, you rest.” You stand, glancing out the still-ajar door. “It’s getting dark anyway.”

Cooper, as usual, opens his mouth to protest. If there’s anything he hates, it’s feeling useless.

“No arguments.” You point a finger at him. “I mean it.”

He grumbles, but relents. “Fine. Only if you turn somethin’ on that ol’ TV of yours.”

The television turns out to be a perfect method of relaxation. You have to remove Cooper from the couch temporarily, but wrestle it into the pullout bed form and line it with blankets. The Ghoul had given in to his exhaustion rather easily at the prospect of a comfortable bed and kicked off his boots to climb all the way in. You hung his coat on a nail by the door, but made sure to leave his guns, lasso, and assorted weapons within arm’s reach. The TV played some old soap opera from before your time while you snagged a couple of hard candies- a luxury item, as the nearest settlement called them- and made to settle in.

Cooper had managed to prop himself against the back of the couch, feet kicked out down the length of the thin mattress. Tiger, seeking attention as per usual, is curled up against his right leg. A wet nose rests just beneath Cooper’s knee and twitches in interest when you unwrap the first candy.

The Ghoul might as well be a dog himself for the way his ears perk at the sound of a wrapper.

He watches intently as you very gracefully clamber to sit next to him. You pop the fruit-flavored candy in your mouth and scoot around until you find comfort. In this case, it’s leaned up against the Ghoul beside you, head dropping onto his shoulder. His breathing is still shallower than you’d like, but a vast improvement from where it was when he’d shown up.

“You ain’t gonna share?”

You open your fist and offer up one of the candies. “I suppose I could. But only for you.”

A smirk twists the corners of his scarred lips. You poke at the candies and attempt to read the labels to no avail.

“I’d offer you a choice of flavor, but…” You shrug, looking back up to your Ghoul. “Slim pickings.”

He lifts a bare hand to your chin, tilting up. “I think the pickin’s are just fine.”

You smile and lean in to meet him, lips falling into a familiar dance.The hand on your chin slides down to grip your nape and holds you firmly in place. It’s not long before the candy is gone from your mouth. Its remnants remain, mingling with the taste of gunpowder and smoke. A few moments pass before you decide to separate

“Miss me much?” You inquire, cuddling yourself down into his side.

His arm raises to accommodate your body and lowers it back down to encircle your shoulders once you’re settled. “I always miss you darlin’. For a variety of reasons.”

You hum softly, “Yeah? Why’s that?”

Cooper’s hand trails up and down your arm, leaving wide trails of gooseflesh. “Well, the main one happens to be the lack of entertainment.”

You scoff. “I’m your entertainment?”

“Fuck yeah, you are. ‘Specially when you’re hollerin’ at scavengers and shootin’ anything that moves.” The Ghoul chuckles to himself. “Or trippin’ over a sleeping yao guai.”

You shove him playfully. “That was one time, and I shot it dead anyway.”

Cooper pulls you towards him, and you shift until you’re between his legs, chest pressed against his back. “That you did, sweetheart. I ain’t forgot.”

He grabs the nearest blanket and tosses it over your entangled bodies. You curl to the side and rest your cheek to his chest. Tiger shuffles his body with a huff, apparently frustrated with the lack of attention.

“What would you do without me?” You tap his chest gently, relishing in the warmth he produces. “Other than get eaten by a yao guai?”

The Ghoul scratches Tiger’s head. “Prolly go feral. Chase around some folk to scare em’.”

You know he’s joking, but the thought of losing him to ferality scares you to no end. Particularly since he’s just shown up on death’s door and almost hacked a lung onto your floor.

“Don’t say that.” You lift your head to catch his eye. “Please.”

Cooper may be a gruff old Ghoul with a dreadful outlook on the world, but he softens ever so slightly at your words.

“You know I don’t mean it, sugar. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

Two scarred fingers hook beneath your jaw and pull you back up to his lips. It’s tame at first, but the Cooper you know wastes no time making an appearance. His teeth nip at your lip gently and one rough hand slides up your side until it cups your breast. You press into him eagerly, climbing upwards until your thighs slot around either side of his hips. He responds by grinding them into you, delicious friction warming you from head to toe.

Tiger decides he’s disgusted at this point, and hops off the couch with a comical groan.

Unbothered, one of your hands latches onto the lasso that is tossed on top of his pile of weapons. You loop it around his neck, gripping either side of the rope and pulling him in. Cooper smirks against your mouth.

“Oh I love being stuck with you, Cowpoke.” You whisper against his mouth, earning yourself a quick bite to the bottom lip.

The Ghoul grins and quickly shows how much strength he’s regained by reversing your positions. He snatches the rope faster than you can react, and wraps the fingers of one hand loosely around the column of your throat. There’s just enough pressure to shoot a pang of arousal between your legs. Cooper knows you’re squirming, and presses a knee there to relieve some of the ache.

“Glad t’hear it.” He murmurs into your neck, “‘Cause I sure as hell ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

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yuri-for-businesswomen · 10 months

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all „advantages“ women face are a direct result from male actions and misogyny.

strangers trust women more.

well men pose the big majority of kidnappers, are more prone to random and brutal acts of violence, more likely to rob and and rape you. men are also more likely to inflict harm onto strangers. no wonder people tend to trust women more.

people trust women more around kids.

the vast vast majority of pedophiles are men, as well as the majority of child rapists and abusers, and the sexual violence they inflict tends to be more brutal. on top, women are raised to be more caring and maternal. no wonder people trust women more around kids.

people take womens mental issues more seriously.

i have to laugh. women have been called hysterical for centuries, have been lobotomised, institutionalised and abused for being uncomfortable, not even necessariy mentally ill, but also in those cases. and put under male conservatorship. men‘s biggest issue is that they are being taught not to open up about their feelings. and who is trying to make them open up more? women.

women are usually not drafted into the military.

who usually wages war? men. who overwhelmingly joins the military on a voluntary basis, when there is no draft? men. is the culture in the military open to women? only if they‘re prostitutes. men systemically rape women during war times. there is plenty, plenty of stories from women who did join the military and faced constant sexual harrassment and even sexual abuse. military is a men‘s club, because men made it so.

men die earlier.

and there is plenty of reasons for that, that are not women‘s fault. men tend to do more physical labour which is taxing to the body - but when women try to enter these male dominated fields, they face systematic harrassment, misogyny and abuse. men constantly communicate to women that we are too weak to do hard physical labour anyways, while simultaneously complaining we are not doing this. also men tend to exhibit more risky and self-damaging behavior, which is partly due to caring most about themselves, while women care about others like their families and kids more. men tend to die in accidents because they tend to cause accidents. etc

men kill themselves more.

yes, and they also kill others more. it is way more likely for a man to attempt to kill someone else than himself. also, this is not necessarily an indicator that men‘s mental health is worse; women attempt more often but choose less brutal methods, and murder-suicides are counted in those statistics as well as suicide to avoid accountability, usually for crimes.

women get more attention.

women get more SEXUAL and unwanted attention. our art, research, and other accomplishments on the other hand get way less attention and are sometimes even sold off as male accomplishments.

women are more believable victims.

if this was true, it might be due to the fact that women are victims more often than we are offenders: sexual or domestic violence especially. men also generally portray us as weaker. when women sexually assault men, it‘s usually less brutal, not in groups, and not random. male culture is based on portraying men as hypersexual, and men are the ones reinforcing this idea. men are still more likely to be sexually assaulted by other men. if you think that women have less shame to come forward about these experiences, it only shows your misogyny: you think women feel more comfortable being the victim because that is the role assigned to us socially, but then complain that we are allegedly believed more. women tend to doubt themselves more, and be doubted more as well.

#mine #meninism #misogyny

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river-taxbird · 18 days

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The most common mistake people make when thinking about prehistory and how to avoid it.

In "The Dawn of Everything, A New History for Humanity" David Graeber gives what I think might be the best piece of advice I've ever heard for understanding deep human history, and that is to get your mind out of the Garden of Eden.

People speculating about prehistory before modern archeology were quick to frame early humanity as existing in a "state of nature", either with pure innocent tribal communism, or being brutish barbarous cavemen, then something happened to bring us from the state of nature into "society". Did we make a Faustian bargain by domesticating plants and animals? Why is evidence of intergroup violence in prehistory so rare? How did we fall from the innocent state of nature? This, of course, smacks of the biblical creation story, so even if people don't believe it literally, they seem to have a hard time letting go of it spiritually even in a secular context.

This is pretty much nonsense, of course. Humans have existed for over 2 million years. Anatomically modern humans have existed for at least 300 thousand years. Behaviourally modern humans (with symbolism, art, long distance trade, political awareness) have existed for at least 50 thousand years, from our best evidence, but possibly a lot longer. The time between the Sumerians inventing writing and urban living 5,000 years ago and now is only a narrow slice of human history.

If we want to understand human history properly, we shouldn't understand people of the past as fundamentally different from us. They were intelligent, politically aware people doing their best in the world they found themselves in, just like we are today. We didn't fall from innocence with the development of behavioral modernity, religion, farming, war, money, capitalism, computers, or anything else. The world has changed a lot, but people have been experimenting with different ways to live for as long as there have been people, like this example I've posted before about disabled people's role in late pleistocene Eurasian society.

People have been the same as we are now for at least the last 50 thousand years. We have lived in countless different ways and will continue to experiment. There was no fall, and we don't live at the end of history.

#history #archeology #stone age #prehistory #the dawn of everything #David Graeber #anthropology

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queers-gambit · 29 days

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Damage Done

prompt: The Winter Soldier is activated and Bucky's lover is unlucky enough to be in proximity.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Widow!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 5.4k+

note: oh, wow, Cherry wrote Bucky NOT in a Mafia AU?

warnings: takes place during Civil War, absolutely no plot - author just doesn't know how to shut the fuck up. cursing, violence, established relationship, small angst, injury, blood, hurt and comfort, Winter Soldier antics, choking, abrupt ending, maybe domestic violence? it's the WS.

it's really not that bad, it's not terribly descriptive but still tread carefully if triggered by these topics.

"Keep them together," Agent Everett Ross commanded, a little man with a raging Napoleon Complex, gesturing at you and Bucky; the latter held in mobile, restrictive captivity. "He doesn't play nice if he doesn't see her, or so it's said," his eyes rolled.

"You're making a huge mistake!" You barked, struggling in the restraints they had you wrapped in.

"No, I don't think so," he sneered, approaching you as Bucky's unit kept moving. "I think the mistake was letting you out of anyone's sight. Tell me, how long have you been in cahoots with the Winter Soldier?"

"He's not the Winter Soldier anymore, you jackass, he's a person! A real, live human being! His name's James but he prefers Bucky! He likes plums," you were yanked away, still snarling, "his favorite color is blue, likes motorcycles, he has real guilt over his past transgressions, and you've got the wrong guy!"

"Oh, right, like you're the best judge of character," Ross laughed.

"Natasha! Nat! Fucking tell him!" You pleaded, struggling in the hold of the men who kept iron clad restraint on you and were starting to drag you away. "You've got the wrong guy! Bucky didn't do this! I wouldn't lie - not to you, Natasha! Tell him!"

"That's touching, really sweet," Ross mocked, rolling his eyes as you were finally overpowered and lead away.

"Hang on a second," Nat muttered, sharing a look with Tony. "Was her DNA or facial recognition anywhere at the UN? Anywhere near where the bomb was set off?"

"What's that matter - "

"Since they met, they've not parted ways," Nat spelled out. "He won't go anywhere without her - you, yourself, are keeping them together for interrogation - "

"It's just easier," Ross scoffed.

"No, you know..." She blinked in confusion, "You know, Bucky won't talk unless she's there - you know he'll be ten times as difficult if she's not in the room."

"So?"

"So, in the past two years, have you heard about him without her? Have you seen her without him?"

"Nobody's seen or heard from either of them," Ross shook his head.

"Exactly," she nodded, lungs tightening with nerves. "If you can't find evidence of her being in Vienna... Bucky might not be your guy... Besides, they're both trained to avoid cameras - "

"Mistakes are made," Ross waved off.

"Not by two highly trained assassins like them," she snapped. "Check the files, go back - look! Actually look, run her scans through facial recognition - if you don't find her, it wasn't Bucky."

"You're so sure?" Tony asked skeptically.

"I know her," Natasha nodded, "better than anyone. She's as good as my sister, she's as good as blood. I know her. I know she wouldn't run this risk - "

"Then you also know she wouldn't get caught," Ross laughed.

"Neither would Bucky."

The silence stretched, but Ross was stubborn; sneering at the Avengers and taking his leave with his own plan of action in mind. He left Tony and Natasha to deal with Sam and Steve as he went to observe the interrogation. When he got before the monitors, he watched as it took four different men to restrain you enough to hoist your locks up the wall until they were clicked in place by ultra-strength magnets.

You jostled, feeling the full extent of your containment, grunting when the pipe you were connected to shocked your entire system into submission. Everett Ross smirked at your pain; watching your tongue swipe over your teeth, arms high above your head, readjusting your weight in your feet, but otherwise, not moving.

Ross heard Bucky ask quietly, his eyes watching you carefully from inside the reinforced cell, "You okay, doll?"

"Looks like they learned from last time," you grit, the cuffs around your wrists electrified; charring your skin, making you grimace slightly in a veiled attempt to hide your pain from your lover.

"Don't fight, you'll make it worse," he advised softly, frowning, eyes glassy from restrained emotion.

"They could've at least put me in a bit more comfortable position," you sneered, glaring up at one of the cameras, shaking your head as if in disappointment.

"I don't think they want to play nice, sweetheart."

"Yeah, could've guessed that from when they arrested us," you shook your head, puckering your lips to gather the blood in your mouth; spitting it to the floor. "You good, baby?" You asked as the men who restrained you moved to plug in the power cell caging Bucky.

He nodded silently at you, bowing his head and letting his long locks curtain his face. You frowned, shifting again as you blindly felt your cuffs and designed a way to get free; watching the men stoically as they exited the room to make way for the psychologist. Your jaw clenched, the air smelling foul - alerting you that something wasn't quite right.

"Hello, Mr. Barnes," the accented man greeted casually, standing at a single table in front of Bucky, you off to the side; chains rattling as your defenses flared. The psychologist smirked and greeted you, too, assuring your real identity was known - something that Natasha released to the world about two years ago when HYDRA sent Bucky after Cap in DC. You didn't fault her, in fact, you respected her move, and after getting out of the blown-to-shit base, you had run into the Winter Soldier... Beginning your epic love story, both of you on the run from authorities and higher powers.

You smuggled Bucky out of the country, using fake aliases that had yet to see the light of day and therefor, wasn't released in the files Nat published during her takedown of the compromised S.H.I.E.L.D. agency. He was appreciative, pondering how he was meant to go forward in a world he didn't know; so, you agreed to stick around for a bit to help settle him, and that bit turned into a couple of years - the two of you inseparable.

There was an incident in London that almost exposed you, but instead, it just shined a light on your new partnership. Captain American, Nat, Sam, shit - even Tony Stark himself was unable to catch up; your trail going cold, Nat knowing your Widow training was running the show and keeping you safe. Granted, she probably could've unraveled the web you had weaved - but the truth was, she didn't want to. So, she kept quiet. Leading you all here...

"I've been sent by the United Nations to evaluate you both," the man you'd come to know as Helmut Zemo continued; playing his part very well, but not well enough to convince you of his innocence. Something about the man rubbed you the wrong way. "Do you mind if I sit?" He asked politely, feigning like you two had a choice. When he did, Zemo continued, "Your first name is James?"

He noted the way Bucky and you shared a look, both remaining silent. Zemo tried to assure, "I'm not here to judge you - either of you. I just want to ask you a few questions. Do you know where you are, James?" Continued silence, your head subtly shaking - an act only Bucky clocked. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me, James."

"My name is Bucky," he croaked, your sigh echoing around the room.

"Hm," Zemo nodded, "I take it, she doesn't want you to talk?"

"She wants me safe," Bucky answered stiffly.

"That is admirable," the psychologist offered kindly, "a great display of love, is it not?"

"Jesus Christ," you shook your head, offering a glare, "you went through all that schooling to ask stupid fucking questions? Might wanna get your money back."

Zemo chuckled after humming, "I am merely trying to establish the connection you two share. I hear it is rare to find one without the other, that you two have become, uh, joined at the hip?"

"I protect her," Bucky offered, sharing a long look with you, "and she protects me."

"An equal partnership, would you say?"

"Yes."

"Buck," you warned, wrists twisting to hold the cuffs; being zapped, making your jaw clench and the veins in your neck to bulge.

"It's all right," his voice sounded like it was being put through a grater. "We're caught, doll, it's all right."

You huffed, eyeing Zemo as his eyes flickered between you two. He nodded, making a note in his little book, "I was warned that you would be unwilling to cooperate without her present. Why is that?"

"She keeps me safe."

Zemo hummed, "So you've said, and yet... Here you both are..." You were ready to lash out, but the doctor changed course, "Tell me, Bucky. You've seen a great deal, haven't you?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." Your restraints zapped you again when you jolted forward as if to physically silence Zemo, Bucky's head snapping over and his eyes drooping in sympathy. "Told you not to move, it'll only get worse," he told you softly.

"He's asking questions that will get him killed," you snarled, gritting your teeth as the electric currents seized most of your energy. But it was worth it, finding a little weak spot and letting your mind devise a specific plan.

"You fear," Zemo continued, "that if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. I feel it is safe to assume, uh, your lady is privy to your past experiences? Perhaps, you two have shared a couple?"

"Just leave her out of this," Bucky pleaded.

"Don't worry," he assured you both, tapping something on his tablet before looking back at Bucky with a sick recognition. "We only have to talk about one. One mission... That I know you," he nodded at you, "were not present for."

"Kinda game you playin', Doc?" You sneered. "Think anything he says will change my opinion about him?"

"No, no, I know your relationship is too strong for that," Zemo smiled. "So, it's not so much what he will say... But what he will do..."

"The fuck does that - "

But then, the lights went out; darkening the room save for the lights individual to Bucky's holding cell. You perked up, the electric currents halting as the cuffs died with the power and gave you an opportunity to begin working on your escape. As red panic lights flickered, Bucky questioned, "What the hell is this?"

"Why don't we discuss your home?" Zemo offered. "Not Romania. Certainly not Brooklyn, no," he reached into his satchel, revealing a red notebook the world thought long lost... Buried in snow... Forgotten in time. "I mean, your real home," Zemo removed his glasses as you frantically started working.

"No, no, no, no, no, hey, hey, hey, don't - fuck!" You grit, trying harder to free yourself. "Bucky - Bucky, don't listen - ah, Goddamnit!"

The man you now understood to be a fake psychologist stood with a little flashlight, opening the red notebook, and began repeating words in Russian that would activate the decommissioned Winter Soldier. Bucky had told you all about these words, begging you to provide a shield against them should they ever be uttered again; but you had prior knowledge, the Winter Soldier someone you had been debriefed on during your time with other secret agencies.

"Longing."

"No," Bucky whispered, head tilting back in panic as he felt his stomach curl in a familiar pattern.

"Bucky - don't fucking listen, please!" You begged, still working to free yourself.

"Rusted."

"Stop," Bucky pleaded, sounding in pain.

"Don't do this!" You pleaded to Zemo. "You're fucking hurting him, please, stop!"

"Seventeen."

"Stop!" Bucky barked, his vibranium hand clenching in anger and pain; the entire arm whirring from the flex of his muscle. He began to pant, a deep growl emitting above your panicked whimpers.

"Daybreak!"

"You have no idea what you're doing!" You raged, Bucky screaming in pain as his mind was forcibly sunk back into dark recesses of his past. "Don't - Bucky, baby, listen to me - don't fucking listen to him, please, please, baby, don't do this!"

He screamed, breaking free of the iron restraints that kept him seated in the reinforced, mobile cell. "Furnace!" Zemo continued, ignoring the pain and panic you and Bucky were both thrown into.

"Fucking stop, please! You don't understand!" You begged, freeing one hand and working in vain to unlatch the other. Bucky was out of his seat, anger coursing like a palpable rain over you all - him screaming as his metal arm worked to pound into the strengthened glass surrounding him.

"Nine!"

"Bucky, please, baby, please, don't do this!" You tried a new tactic, hoping you were enough to cut through the brainwashing - but how silly to imagine. Decades of trauma was washing over Bucky again and your little words couldn't cut through the barricades of his mind.

"Benign!"

"You stupid fucking little man!"

Zemo rounded around the cell, Bucky still pounding away at the glass. "Homecoming! One!"

"DON'T!"

"Freight car!"

You whimpered in fear when Bucky punched the entire door off the hinges, freeing him at last; but the words were spoken, the damage done. He crouched on the floor, Zemo pausing to take in the sight, slowly approaching Bucky as he stood upright; the jangling of your chains louder and more frantic as you tried to free your last wrist.

"Jesus Christ," you whispered, trying to divide focus between the two tasks of freeing yourself and protecting Bucky - but being terribly unsuccessful as you watched Zemo stand in front of your dead-eyed boyfriend.

What a ridiculous, mundane label to assign someone like Bucky.

In Russian, Zemo questioned, "Soldier?"

And in Russian, the man you loved answered, "Ready to comply."

Zemo demanded in English, "Mission report. December 16, 1991."

You whimpered in fear, listening to Bucky give the report that would haunt you for years to come. Just as he finished, you managed to get out of the cuffs, but the clanging of your freed restraints caught Zemo's attention - who smirked with abundant cruelty. "Don't," you warned, backing out of the room just as officers began to flood it.

It was a brutal fight, trying to stave off Bucky once in his Winter Soldier mindset. You grunted as he engaged you, men dead at your feet - the lucky ones just knocked out. You grit your teeth, trying to defend yourself as Bucky operated mechanically; doing what you could to protect yourself, but it wasn't enough.

Blows landed, punching and kicking one another in an equal match of strength and stamina.

"Seize her," Zemo demanded, and in the next moment, Bucky had you by the neck; an effort that made you wheeze and claw at his bionic hand.

"Bucky," you begged. "Baby - baby - it's me, it's me, please, don't, it's me! Don't do this, baby, please, come back to me. Come back!" You struggled in his grip, trying to pry his hand open, "Baby, please, please, come back to me," spit drooled from your lips as he squeezed tighter. "This isn't you!" You managed to squeeze out, tears surfacing. "Not anymore, don't let them win!"

"Shut her up, Solider," Zemo commanded in Russian, your eyes widening and trying to beg Bucky again before he was sending you into a wall. He marched up to you, grabbing your hair, and surging his balled up metal fist directly into the bridge of your nose, breaking it, head jolting backwards, and effectively knocking you out.

When you came back into consciousness, it was to Steve's worried face; his hands caressing your cheeks and begging, "You all right?"

"Fucking hell," you winced, reaching up to prod the tender spot on your head; revealing blood.

"Got your ass kicked, huh?" He frowned.

"Watch your language, Cap," you smirked, wincing when your face throbbed. "Shit, how bad is it?"

He looked you over, offering, "Definitely a broken nose."

"Goddamnit - where is he? Where's Bucky?"

"Help me," a voice pleaded from the next room, Zemo playing his part by splaying out on the floor like bait.

"Don't trust him, something ain't right about him, Steve," you whispered, waving him on as you sluggishly hoisted yourself up the wall to lean against it. "Kept asking about Siberia, asking about shit nobody should actually know."

"Get yourself safe," Steve told you swiftly, nodding at Sam; who was checking on the status of the other bodies around you.

"Just find him, Steve, he's lost in his own mind - a threat to himself," you panted, slowly standing.

"I know - "

"You don't know," you shook your head, wiping a trickle of blood from your temple, "but you're gonna have to do more than understand him right now, Steve."

"I've got this," he promised, watching you nod and limp away. You had just missed the action, Bucky overpowering both Sam and Steve; getting to a safety landing and running into Natasha, Tony, and Agent Sharon Carter.

"We'll hash our bullshit out later," you panted, "but for now - "

You heard a commotion behind you, flinching out of sight when Bucky made himself known and began taking down rogue agents unlucky enough to stand before the Winter Soldier.

"He have an off switch?" Nat asked.

"Not that I've found," you frowned. "Split up."

Tony tried to engage Bucky first, using a mobile Iron Man device he wore on his wrist that used sonics to disorient Bucky. It only worked to a small extent, the two exchanging a few blows, Bucky firing a bullet at Tony's face at pointblank range that was saved by his technologically advanced glasses. Bucky got the upper hand, sending Tony flying back, letting Sharon and Nat attack.

He disposed of them both easily, stumbling when you caught him off guard and wrapped your legs around him. Normally, you'd do anything to have your legs around him - but this wasn't one of those times. You exchanged several punches, blocking one another, going for disarming hits but being of equal challenge; leaving small cuts and blooming bruises on each other as if to prove the engagement. Natasha rejoined the fight, two Widows showing Bucky up on a few instances, but he was heaving her across the room as you swung onto his shoulders in an impressive acrobatic move.

You heaved your fists down in a repeated fashion on the top of his head, Bucky charging at one of the cafe tables; slamming you down and choking you again with his metal hand. Both your hands held his, legs up around his neck to try to keep him at a distance for relief on your windpipe.

Through a strangled breath, you managed, "You could at least recognize me!"

"Who said I don't?" He growled, reaching out to snap a piece of wood from a chair.

You tried to regain normal breath, wheezing, "This isn't you, baby, you are not this person anymore - you're not a psychotic, robot killer! You're a man - please!"

"You don't know a damn thing about me," he seethed.

"I know everything about you," you strangled, "and I know this isn't you. Come back to me, baby, please! Y-You can't let the demons win, Buck, please - fucking listen to me!" But he only raised the wooden shaft above his head. "BUCKY, DON'T!"

"Who the hell is Bucky?"

You cried out shrilly when he jabbed the sharp wood into your shoulder, staking you to the table just as King T'Challa rushed onto the scene and stole your brainwashed boyfriend's attention. You hissed in pain, trying to yank the wood free but being unsuccessful; resulting in blood to splatter onto the tiled floor.

Hearing someone pant your name, you caught a glimpse of red and knew it was Nat, her face worried over yours a moment later. "Where's Bucky?" You coughed and winced in pain.

"Goin' up by the looks of it," she informed, "now hang on, this is gonna hurt. Want a belt to bite?"

"No, just do it, get it done, please," you panted, bracing yourself, and suddenly, without warning, your companion heaved the piercing shaft free from your flesh. Naturally, you cried out, groaning and clenching your jaw so tight, it nearly crushed your teeth into dust.

"Hey, you seen..." Sam arrived on scene, taking in your injury, "Holy shit, you good?"

"Yeah," you grunted, stumbling to your feet as blood bloomed into a bigger, brighter blemish on your tactical shirt. "We gotta go, Sam, we should get outta here."

"Hang on," Nat paused you two, your opposite hand holding your wound; her hands occupied by a smart device, "looks like Bucky tried to highjack a helicopter. Steve stopped him, but it resulted in them all crashing in the river."

"Shit," Sam breathed. "We gotta go find them."

"We need to get outta here, you know, away from the cops and agents," your head shook. "Get somewhere safe, away from this catastrophe. We'll regroup with Steve."

"Go," Nat permitted, "I won't say a word."

"You're one of a kind, Nat," you praised, pecking her cheek. "Let's go, Sam. And grab that First Aid kit," you pointed to the wall where the white box was mounted. He agreed and you lead the way out of the facility.

Bucky groaned as he woke up, head lulling back before realizing he couldn't move his metal arm; finding it clamped in industrial weights. Sam called you both to attention, but while Steve jogged over, you remained in your place out of sheer distress.

You only vaguely listened to the conversation, hands trembling as your shoulder was bandaged to prevent further injury or infection. You did what you could to patch up any injury, and when you heard your name, you dialed in; Bucky asking, "Where is she? Is she okay?"

"You don't remember?" Sam sneered.

"No..."

"You stabbed her," the Falcon growled.

"What? N-No, I-I-I couldn't've - I wouldn't!"

"You did," Steve confirmed, pity coloring his words. "Punched her out pretty well, choked her, too. Broke her nose..."

"Please - Steve, please, tell me I didn't."

"I'm sorry, Buck."

"That why she's not here? She's in a hospital?"

"Actually, no," Sam trailed, "she's just in the other room."

"She didn't want to come here?"

Steve sighed as Sam informed, "Don't think she wants to see you right now, man."

"I didn't mean to hurt her."

"We know," Steve swiftly promised, nodding his head. "She knows it, too, you just have to give her some time."

Bucky looked utterly defeated, murmuring, "I scared her. Oh, my God, I scared her..."

"Gotta agree with you there."

"Sam," Steve reprimanded. "Look, Buck, she'll come around."

You waited until the two men left Bucky alone to regroup and stratify a new course of action. Slowly and almost sheepishly, you entered where Bucky was being kept, steps silent but he heard you anyways. His blue eyes flashed in concern as he met your gaze, mouth opening and closing as if words failed him.

"Doll," he finally breathed, "a-are you all right?"

"I'm okay."

"Don't bullshit me, how hard did I hit you? Steve said I broke your nose, I-I'm so sorry, doll, please believe me. What'd I do to your shoulder? Is that where I stabbed you?"

"Buck," you sighed, slowly squatting in front of him, "I need you to take a breath and know that I understand you were not in your right state of mind. You were forcibly triggered and sent back into that way of thinking, I know it wasn't you."

"I still hurt you, I still did it."

"Did you, though?" Your head cocked, eyes narrowing slightly, "Because I know my Bucky wouldn't hurt me, would never dare lay a hand on me - but the Winter Solider is a different story. You didn't do this, Buck, you weren't you."

"I can smell the fear on you."

"Well, yeah, it fuckin' scared me. I tried to stop that fake doctor, I tried to help, tried to save you and keep your safe. I'm sorry I was too slow, that I failed."

"You didn't fail anything, sweetheart... I-I failed you, I broke my promise to never hurt you."

"No, you didn't. The Winter Solider did all that, not my Bucky."

He frowned, repeating to ask softly, "Your Bucky?"

"My Bucky - the kind, charismatic, impossibly stubborn, kind hearted man I've loved the past couple of years who always gives me the crispiest fries, who has nightmares, who loves me unconditionally despite what I, too, have done in my past. And you know what I was doing out there while Sam and Steve talked to you?"

"What's that, doll?"

"Understanding that loving someone means loving their flaws, accepting them exactly as they are. So, while, yes, the Winter Solider scares the fuck outta me, he's still part of you and I can't authentically love you if I reject the Soldier."

His head shook "Your kindness is wasted on me."

"I think you should let me decide what's a waste and what's not when it comes to my own energy and emotion."

"I'm just gonna end up hurting you again. You're better off without me, baby, you and I both know you're better off keeping your distance. You should get out now while you still can."

"Not gonna happen. 'Cause you know what else I realized?" You reached up to caress his cheek, "I trust you beyond reasonable doubt, I trust you even if I'm afraid of the Winter Solider. I should've been faster, I should've helped you more, but I was powerless against that red notebook."

"You and I, both..."

You pet the cheek you were holding. "Buck, I know it was scary, I know how it must've felt being forced back into that mindset, but I want you to know that I'm in this for the long haul - you're not gonna scare me off. Because I love you, Bucky, and every single part of you - whether choking me out or not. Whether I earn a broken nose or not."

"I'm so sorry. I-I can't believe I did that, I'm so sorry, I hate that I hurt you. I'm so sorry, baby, I can't - I can't even put it in words how much I regret putting you in that position."

You smirked, "See? The Winter Soldier has no remorse, but my Bucky does." You gingerly reached out to curl his hair behind his ear. "My Bucky apologizes and takes accountability. There's no reason to not love that man - especially when he deserves it so much. Hey? Hear me? You deserve to be loved, too, Buck."

"And you deserve a man who doesn't run the risk of being turned into a psycho killing machine over a few measly words."

"I deserve to love my best friend, so let me do that. Say whatever you want, try to push me away - but I'm like a boomerang, baby, I'll just come right back."

"What kinda man puts his best girl in that kinda position? Who hurts the most important person in his life?"

"A man who endured decades of abuse," you laid your hands on either of his thighs, "a man who wasn't allowed control of his own mind. I can't - no, no, I won't fault you for that, Buck. Today wasn't your fault and I'll remind you of that as often as it takes. Don't you dare feel guilty because you didn't do this to me, okay? You didn't put me in any position - that fake fucking doctor did this, Agent Ross did this, special ops put us here. You, my sweet boy, didn't do anything to be at fault. You were trapped, but look at you now - freed, level headed, talking to me."

His eyes gleamed with a sheen of emotion, staring at the bloodied bandage wrapping your shoulder wound before his eyes danced over the bruising and other aftermath of your injuries. "I could've killed you," he muttered, tears filling his eyes.

"But you didn't - and surprisingly, neither did the Winter Soldier. Maybe there was a part of you still alive, wanting to refuse orders and not actually hurt me."

"Perhaps," he frowned. "I'm still so sorry, doll, I hate that I did this to you. It never should've happened."

Your head nodded, "I know, baby, and listen - I forgive you. Yeah? Hear me? I forgive you, this is in the past."

"Are you sure about me? You sure you wanna do this? Knowing I could flip a switch and hurt you - maybe even worse than today?"

"I'm sure about you, Buck," you agreed. "I don't wanna be without you, so, sign me up for whatever's to come."

"You might regret that."

"The only thing I could ever regret is abandoning you. I don't want to do this without you - I love our life together. In any world, in any lifetime, I'd still choose you. There's nothing that would make me regret you - regret being with you."

"You sure? I don't want to make you do anything out of your comfort."

"I love you, Bucky, yes, I'm sure. No matter what damage you think you might've caused, whatever damage has been done, I promise, that's not the truth. There's nothing about you that I could regret."

"Well, all that's left now is to get to Siberia, stop the other Winter Soldiers."

"And figure out a way to free your mind once and for all... It's what you deserve," you told him softly, rocking to your knees to meet his forehead with yours and caressing his cheek again. When you heard approaching footsteps, you sighed and pulled away from him to stand and turn, spying Sam and Steve. "C'mon, Cap, get him outta this. He's not gonna attack anyone," you requested, gesturing where your boyfriend was trapped.

"You sure?" Sam asked stiffly. "He did a real number on you alone. Not to mention all the other agents and cops he took out back there."

"He's good," you snapped, perking your brows at Steve, "and you two would do well not to throw what happened in his face, it wasn't his fault. So c'mon, free him, he's not a wild animal."

Steve agreed and lifted the machinery from Bucky's prosthetic, him instantly snatching it back and massaging where the joint met metal. Bucky stood with a set stare at Sam and Steve, as if anticipating them to lunge at him. His throat constricted, swelled with emotion when you stepped in front of him - posing barrier between the two Avengers and himself.

"You still got that phone on you?" Steve asked you softly.

"I do."

"Is it still unregistered?"

"You know it is. Who're we calling?"

"Reinforcements. We're gonna need help now that the Avengers will be looking for us. We gotta get to Siberia."

"Here," you agreed, unlocking the device and handing it over. "Who's first on your list?"

"Any Avenger who didn't sign the Sokovia Accords."

When he walked away with Sam again, you turned to face your lover directly; staring into swirling storms of baby blues. "You still with me?" You asked softly, reaching up to caress his hair again to push it behind his ear.

"Always. Got my six?"

"You know I do, baby," you smirked, stepping into his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. "We'll figure this out, together."

"Together," he agreed, sighing deeply and returning your embrace tightly. His flesh hand rose to hold the back of your head, bringing his lips down to lay a chaste kiss on the top of your head. His voice rattled quietly, "Thank you..."

"Hmm? For what, handsome?"

"Believing in me. It's nice to think we can end this torment."

You smiled up at him, "You deserve freedom, Bucky, and to live without this haunting fear."

"I don't know about 'deserving' it, sweetheart. Done a lot of things that would argue against that."

"Maybe against the Winter Soldier, but Bucky deserves the world. Deserves kindness, accommodation, love and understanding. Now," you smirked and sniffled, giving his waist another squeeze before releasing and pulling back, "get your head outta this pit and focus, we've got a long day ahead of us."

He agreed, letting you take his hand and lace fleshy fingers together in a tether. Sam's face remained stoic and passive, but when Steve saw you two, he couldn't help but smile. Two years he hunted for Bucky and just today, he's learned his best friend's been shacked up with you - a warmth blooming in his chest over the idea of you two finding one another and loving each other.

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I'll Always Be Here

Masterlist

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Routledge!Sister, Rafe Cameron x Routledge!Sister (reader and characters are all over 18)

TW:18+, mention of domestic violence (nothing graphic), mentions of mental abuse, violence, mentions of blood, mentions of a gun, angst

Summary: JJ Maybank has been your best friend and keeper for as long as you can remember. So what happens when you get caught up with Kook prince Rafe Cameron and he discovers its the not the fairytale it seems.

Word Count:4.6k

Despite popular belief, JJ is a smart man. He may be the hot head of the group, always coming up with harebrained plans, but he's extremely intuitive and observant. He's been your best friend for years.

It's kind of a given, seeaing as you're John B's little sister. You're only a year younger, and for as long as JJ has known his friend, you've always been by his side. Even when John B whined about having to bring his baby sister, JJ has always made sure you had a place in the group.

He's always made you feel like you belong and took you under his wing. Which is exactly why he knows something is wrong. He can read you like a book, and he sees the signs before anyone else, even your brother.

He wasn't happy when you got tangled up with Rafe Cameron and tried to warn you that there's a darker side to the aggressive kook. You insisted that you knew, but that he's never been anything but gentle towards you.

It's such a cliche, falling for the man who's an asshole to everyone except you. It made you feel special, like you were the only one who got to see the real Rafe. You were young, barely 18, and naive. Oh, how wrong you had been.

You've been under Rafe's thumb for just over a year now, and the switch in your personality has been mind-boggling. JJ knew something was wrong when you blew off your own birthday party at the Chateau, but the rest of the Pogues wrote it off as you getting caught up in the kook lifestyle.

They had even been mad, spouting off about how you thought you were too good for the cut now. Too good for them. JJ knew better though, and that's when he started paying closer attention.

You all but live at the Camerons now, only coming home to retrieve more clothing. Though, there's not much left for you to take at this point.

JJ saw you for the first time in three months at Midsummers. You briefly locked eyes with him before quickly averting your gaze and slinking into your boyfriend's side. His eyes raked over you, taking in your small appearance.

He didn't miss the way Rafe was gripping you a little too tight, or the way that you only spoke when spoken to. The expensive fabric of the dress clung to your body and JJ almost thought his mind was playing tricks on him when he noticed a yellow bruise in the last stages of healing on your inner arm.

He thought it must be the lighting, or that maybe you just bumped into something. The gnawing feeling in his gut screamed otherwise, but he pushed it aside against his better judgment. You would come to him if you needed help. Right?

You avoided him for the entire night and he tried to ignore the sinking feeling as you were pulled inside by Rafe.

He sees you around town a little more after that, always in passing. If you see him you don't acknowledge it, but that doesn't stop him from staring at you every time.

He notices that you're dressed differently now, clad in designer clothing that looks stiff and out of place on your frame. Your hair is neatly styled; soft and void of its usual charms and braids, a stark contrast to the usual messy tangles caused by saltwater and surfing.

Your makeup is perfectly applied, and it causes him to frown. In almost two decades of knowing you, he's never once seen you with more than mascara and lipgloss. You look full kook now, and it makes his stomach lurch.

You're playing a role that Rafe has molded you into, he knows that much. He knows without a shadow of a doubt that this isn't your doing. You've always preferred a bikini top and comfy jean shorts, usually covered up by one of his t-shirts that swallow you whole.

He tries to tell John B, hoping he can get some intel from Sarah. The younger Cameron has written off her older brother, claiming that he's a psycho. When he pries for more details and discovers that Rafe tried to strangle her, he got into a fight with John B.

"You're telling me that you're okay with her shacking up with the man that tried to kill his own sister? That doesn't set off any alarm bells?" JJ shouts and John B just sighs.

"She's her own person, JJ. I can't control her."

JJ stares at him in disbelief, disgusted that he's so pussy whipped he's disregarding his own sister's safety.

"What about when he tries the same thing on Y/N? Will you care then? You haven't noticed the way that Rafe has completely erased her identity?" He screams, shoving the Routledge back.

Kie steps in and pulls him away, her eyes sad as she stares up at the blonde.

"I know you're worried, JJ. I am too. But we don't have any evidence, maybe it's time to accept she's just changed."

JJ scoffs and backs away, sending his found family daggers before racing off on his dirt bike.

He tried to reach out to you since then, only to find your number had been disconnected. He only tried to approach you once, but the fear in your eyes stopped him cold in his tracks. He knew that look, it had stared back at him in the mirror more times than he could count.

He also knew that trying anything would only make it worse, so he let you go.

Fast forward to tonight, it seems the entirety of OBX is at the kegger. Everyone is too wrapped up in their own shit to notice you arrive with Rafe, but JJ spots you immediately.

It's like he has a sixth sense that tingles whenever you're around, alerting his mind to your whereabouts before his eyes even land on you.

You look miserable, the thick layers of makeup doing nothing to hide your sunken eyes and exhaustion. He fights with himself internally for a few minutes, debating whether he should talk to you or not.

He doesn't want you to suffer because of him, but it's been so long since he's heard your voice or felt your arms around him, and every cell in his body is aching to be near you. He finally says fuck it, and his feet carry him forward on a mission.

He stops a few feet in front of you, and your eyes shoot up to look at him in shock. He smiles down at you but falters slightly when you don't seem the least bit happy to see him.

"Hey, Peach."

He notices your lips quirk slightly at his nickname for you before they fall back into a flat line. You'd earned the moniker when you were sixteen. JJ got you drunk for the first time on Peach Schnapps and you had made an absolute fool of yourself before throwing up in the bonfire.

Ever since then, you couldn't escape the embarrassing memory, though it never really bothered you. It was one of the best nights of your life, and your heart squeezes a bit at the thought.

You give a short nod and he doesn't miss the way your hands wring together obsessively or how your knee is bouncing rapidly. He doesn't get a chance to say anything else before Rafe speaks up.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the trash king. Fuck off, Maybank. She doesn't want to talk to you."

There's a cruel mocking tone to his voice and JJ's hands clench at his side before he smirks and turns to the kook.

"Funny, I don't remember speaking to you. If she doesn't want to see me, she can tell me herself."

He's casual as he says it, but there's an underlying bite that sends a chill down your spine. Your eyes dart between the two men in front of you, unsure of what to do.

You can see Rafe start to tense the longer you stay silent, anger coursing through him at your reluctance to tell your best friend to go away. You know it's in your best interest, but you can't bring yourself to say the words.

You feel bile rise up your throat, and with each passing second you're painfully aware that this is only going to get worse for you.

Rafe turns to you and you recognize the fire in his eyes as his pupils start to overtake his irises.

"Tell him, baby."

You cringe just barely at the pet name, an involuntary reaction you didn't fully realize you had. JJ catches it though and immediately knows it's now or never.

He can feel the anxiety rolling off of you in waves, and that's enough confirmation for him.

"Come on, Peach. The rest of the crew have missed you. You can at least come say hi to John B."

Your throat constricts at the mention of your brother, and JJ sees the tears on your lash line. You don't make a move, and Rafe laughs bitterly.

"See? Go back to your side, pogue."

JJs on his last strand of patience and you can tell. He's always been extremely protective, but he's tried to stay in the shadows and wait for you.

He knows that you won't leave until you're ready, but he's hell-bent on being there to catch you when the time comes.

JJ is intimately familiar with being mistreated by someone you love. He knows the shame that comes with admitting it, the desire to protect the person even though they're hurting you.

He isn't sure if Rafe has put his hands on you, but he's damn certain that he's got his talons in your mind.

And he's also certain that if Rafe hasn't hit you, he will. It's only a matter of time.

"I'm getting real sick of hearing your bitch ass voice, Cameron."

His voice is sickly sweet, and he takes satisfaction in the way Rafe's eye twitches. He knows the man isn't used to being talked back to or having someone stand their ground.

You look on helplessly as Rafe squares his shoulders, clearly not above resorting to violence. JJ laughs darkly, looking forward to beating the absolute dog shit out of the man that's terrorized you for a year.

"That's not in your best interest, man."

JJ tries to warn him, but you know Rafe. Now that he's started this, and people are watching, he won't back down. You also know JJ, and he could kick Rafe's ass on a bad day.

But standing here now, with months worth of rage waiting to be let out, you're convinced he could kill him.

JJ stands relaxed, not a worry on his face, as Rafe pants heavily and turns red. He's already got him where he wants him. Even if JJ did lose this fight, he's already won.

He's under the kook's skin, fucking with his head and he knows that Rafe is going to make impulsive swings with no real method.

He sees it coming from a mile away, picking up on the way Rafe's body shifts back as his arm winds up. He dodges the punch easily before landing a right hook.

Your hands fly up over your mouth as you gasp, and your boyfriend stumbles back.

His hand comes up to his cheek, wiping at the blood from where JJ's ring broke the skin. The entire crowd moves back as Rafe tackles him and you watch frozen as the two of them land blow after blow.

You vaguely register hands on you as Kie and Sarah pull you away, sobs wracking your body. The three of you watch from a distance while John B and Pope try to break them apart to no avail.

When JJ pulls out a gun and points it at Rafe's head, everything goes into slow motion. Your boyfriend takes a step back with his hands up defensively, and JJ has that manic smile he gets when he's about to do something stupid.

Your voice sounds foreign to you as you scream JJ's name, pure terror coursing through your veins. His eyes meet yours and you shake your head, a silent plea to put the weapon down.

He searches your face for a few seconds before lowering the gun, his features softening as he sees the state you're in.

You barely register the sting of the ground scraping your skin as your knees give out and you collapse in heap, gasping for air.

Sarah does her best to get your head between your knees so you don't faint, and Kie rubs your back soothingly. You look up as two feet come into your field of view, Rafe staring down at you with nothing but hatred.

"Let's go."

You start clambering to your feet before Kie pulls you back down and Sarah gets nose-to-nose with her brother.

"Fucking leave and don't ever look at her again or I swear to God I will go get that gun and pull the trigger myself."

Her voice is quiet but lethal and Rafe scoffs before seeing how serious she is. He spits at the ground in front of you, and you flinch as more wails rip from your chest watching him walk away.

In the blink of an eye, JJ is dropping to his knees in front of you and wrapping you up in his arms. You collapse into him, your tears soaking his shirt as he rocks you back and forth.

"Shh, it's okay pretty girl. I'm right here, you're safe."

The girls share a look before walking back over to John B to give you and JJ space. Your brother watches the interaction with his hands in his hair, completely distraught. JJ tried to tell him, and he didn't listen.

Now look at you, a shell of your former self and completely broken. He should have protected you and he failed you. Murdering Rafe flashes through his mind before he pushes it to the side to focus on you.

His eyes follow every movement as JJ scoops you up and carries you into the chateau, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt so hard it looks like it might rip.

Sarah wraps her arms around him as tears start flowing freely, and he leans into her. What has he done?

Inside, JJ sits you on the bathroom sink and puts a cold washcloth under your eyes to help the swelling. You sit like that for a few minutes before hopping down and gently instructing him to sit on the edge of the tub.

You pull out a first aid kit and start disinfecting his wounds, your hands steady and a little too efficient. He frowns as you go through the motions as if this is second nature, and feels his head spin. You're too practiced at this.

"How do you know how to do all of this?"

You seem to know just the right amount of pressure to apply to stop the bleeding without hurting him and what creams to use, a skill you didn't have before.

He knows this because when he wrecked his dirt bike a while back, you tried to clean him up and it almost hurt worse than the accident itself.

Your hands falter slightly and he stares at the side of your face as you resume your previous movements without answering. He takes a minute to really look at you in the bright lighting and his heart shatters.

Now that he can really see you, his worst fears are confirmed. Your face is covered in foundation, but it doesn't hide the swelling of your cheek and eye. There are dabs of concealer on your neck, perfectly spaced and the size of fingertips.

He goes to move your jacket down, wanting a better look at the rest of your body but freezes when you flinch.

"What has he done to you?"

It comes out as a broken whisper and you fight the fresh tears threatening to fall.

"I'm fine, JJ."

He shakes his head and you sigh, dropping the hand that's holding an alcohol pad.

"No, Peach, you're not."

There's a finality to his tone and you know you can't get around this. He grabs the wet washcloth and rubs at your face and neck, almost throwing up when the dark bruises start to peek out.

He knew Rafe had a hold on you, but never in a million years did he imagine it was this bad.

You avert your eyes, not wanting to see the look of pity you're sure is blanketing your best friend's face.

JJ feels sicker with each new mark that's uncovered and gently brushes his fingertips over them. He shakes his head as he finally pulls your jacket down, your arms covered in fresh and old bruises.

He doesn't even want to imagine what the rest of you looks like. He notices you trembling and gently lifts your face to his with his index finger and pointer thumb.

There's a multitude of emotions swimming in his eyes, but pity isn't one of them. Your lip quivers as he stares at you with the same love and adoration he always has, despite feeling like you're hideous and worthless.

As if he can read the thoughts racing through your jumbled mind, he leans forward and presses his forehead to yours gently.

"Hey, none of this is your fault, okay? You did so good, Peach. You're so strong and I'm so so proud of you. You never need to feel embarrassed or ashamed around me, if anyone gets it it's me."

You give him a weak nod and wrap your arms tightly around his neck, and he kisses the side of your head as you nuzzle into his shoulder.

"Let's get you to bed, and we can talk tomorrow if you want."

He takes your hand and leads you out of the bathroom and toward your bedroom slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements or jostle your body around.

The rest of the group is inside now, quietly discussing the events of the night when you emerge. The conversation comes to a halt as their eyes land on you and John B feels ill when he sees your bruised body.

He stands slowly and carefully makes his way to you with both hands out as if he's approaching a wounded animal.

"I'm so sorry, Peach. Please, please know that I never would have let this happen if I had known." He chokes and you swallow thickly.

"I know, JB. I don't blame you."

He engulfs you in a gentle hug, his scent overwhelming you as you finally feel safe in your brother's arms again. He stifles his sobs for your sake before pulling away and letting JJ continue guiding you toward the back.

The second you're out of his sight, he darts out the patio door and empties his stomach on the lawn. He feels Sarah rubbing his back as he continues heaving, before plopping down on the steps.

"Rafe is going to pay for this."

In your room, JJ helps you change into pajamas and climbs into bed with you. The two of you lay there for a while, just basking in each other's company and listening to each other's breath. After a while, he hears soft snores coming from you and eases out of the bed.

His face is set in a deep scowl when he returns to the living room and everyone turns to him. He locks eyes with John B, the two of them coming to a silent conclusion as the man gets up off the couch.

John B turns to Sarah and Kie and nods toward the room you're sleeping in.

"Keep an eye on her."

Sarah bites her bottom lip, contemplating if she wants the answer to her next question.

"Where are you going?"

JJ tosses his friend the keys to the Twinkie and he catches them with ease.

"To get her shit and teach Rafe that no one fucks with the Pogues. Least of all my sister."

They don't wait for a reply before turning on their heels and making a beeline for the van. They climb in silently and peel out, speeding toward the Camerons.

"So what's the plan?" JJ asks and John B glances over at him briefly.

"Since when do we have plans? I'm getting my sister's stuff and you can deal with Rafe until I'm done."

JJ claps excitedly, already stretching out his hands and preparing to finish what he started.

The tires screech as John B stops in the driveway, both of them hopping out. They march up to the front door, and swing it open without so much as a knock.

Rose jumps in her seat, her eyes wide like saucers as she stares at the two men in her foyer.

"Don't even think about it. Where was she staying?" John B barks and Rose just points up the stairs.

"Last room on the left."

He doesn't spare her another look as he bounds up to the second floor on a war path. He starts grabbing everything that he recognizes as yours, as well as a couple Rolexes, and makes his first trip to the Twinkie.

He figures its reparations and slips the watches into the glove box.

As he's making his second trip he hears shouting in the backyard. He recognizes Rafe's voice and takes a second to place that the other person yelling is Ward.

He grabs the last of your things and whatever else piques his interest, taking them outside as well.

In the back, JJ is smirking as both men try to intimidate him. Ward goes so far as to offer him money, tired of dealing with Rafe's shit and never willing to admit his son's faults.

JJ laughs at the insulting suggestion and crosses his arms.

"You think that I'd let him get away with this for some cash? That girl is priceless to me, there's nothing you could possibly offer that would make me walk away from bashing this asshole's face in."

Ward's face drops as he realizes he can't get out of this and he makes a split-second decision. He may be loyal to his son to a fault, but he's getting too old to be fist-fighting.

"You're on you're own, Rafe. I told you this would happen."

With that, he slams the glass door behind him and stops for a moment when he sees John B walking back in the front door before continuing up to his office.

Rafe looks at JJ through his already busted eye, not willing to show any weakness. Deep down he knows what's about to happen is inevitable, but that doesn't mean he'll give the pogue the satisfaction.

JJ closes the distance with lightning speed, his fist colliding against Rafe's nose with a sickening crack. Blood starts pouring instantly and the man groans loudly.

JJ doesn't let him have any time to recover, pouncing on him and landing two more blows to his jaw and ribs. By the time John B joins, Rafe is almost unrecognizable.

He's curled up on the ground clutching his stomach and John B looks over at his friend whose breathing heavily with blood splattered on his face.

He decides JJ has done enough damage and opts to bend down to Rafe's level.

"If you ever so much as look at my sister again, I will kill you without a second thought." He grits out before standing again and nodding for JJ to follow him.

He pauses for a moment, wanting to add insult to injury.

"Oh, and thanks for the watches."

They leave without another word and climb back into the Twinkie silently.

"Shower when we get back, she doesn't need to see you like this."

JJ nods and rubs his sore knuckles, already seeing the black and blue blossoming across them. They're only gone about an hour and Sarah is tackling John B in a hug before his feet even touch the ground.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" She frets, hands frantically roaming his body to search for any sign of injury.

"I'm fine, Sarah. I promise."

Meanwhile, JJ treks inside and heads straight for the bathroom. He stares at himself in the mirror, finally letting everything sink in. He drops his head as his shoulders shake, hot tears falling into the sink below.

He allows himself a moment before taking off his necklace and rings, stepping into the hot stream of water. He tilts his head back as the blood and grime are washed away, and feels more salty tears slip down his cheeks.

He knows what it feels like to be beaten until you're numb day after day. He knows how it feels when a fist collides with an old bruise, replacing it with a new one. He wouldn't wish it upon anyone, least of all you.

All he can think about is your frame cowered in the corner as you try to survive, crying and whimpering.

He wonders if you ever cried out for him and the thought makes him punch the shower wall. He should have been there, he should have saved you.

He briefly regrets not pulling the trigger. The only thing stopping him from doing it now is the fact that he'd go to prison, and leave you alone. He never wants to leave your side again.

He finishes up his shower, scrubbing until the water runs clear, and steps out onto the bath rug. He wraps a towel around his waist and pads down to your room, creeping in as silently as he can.

His feet shuffle over to your dresser and he pulls out a fresh pair of boxers and sweatpants. You always have clothes for him, sleeping over in your bed isn't a rare occurrence.

He pulls them on and crawls back into your bed, sighing as his head hits the pillow. You seem to sense his presence and roll over to press your face into his bare chest, your legs tangling with his out of habit.

He runs his hand through your hair, his arm wrapping around you to pull you tighter against him. His eyes flutter closed as he inhales your sweet scent, coconut shampoo mixed with perfume that smells like burnt sugar.

It's familiar and comforting, and he tries to calm his heart rate as he grounds himself in your arms. You're here, you're safe, and he's never letting you go again.

You mumble quietly, your eyes starting to peek open.

"Shhh, go back to sleep, pretty girl. I'm right here, I'll always be right here. I promise."

He feels your lips press a soft kiss on his shoulder before your breathing evens out again and he stays up just watching you.

He's absolutely petrified that he'll wake up and you'll be gone, back in the arms of Rafe Cameron. So he doesn't sleep.

It's not until four am when you reach up and gently swipe your hands over his eyes, forcing them shut, that he allows himself to get tired.

"Go to sleep, JJ. I can hear the wheels turning in your head and it's keeping me up. I'll still be here."

He turns to lay on his back, pulling you with him so your body is practically on top of his.

The weight of you soothes him, and finally, he starts to doze off. Everything is okay now, you're going to be okay. He'll make sure of it, even if it's the last thing he ever does.

#jj maybank #jj Maybank imagine #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x reader #outerbanks fic #outer banks #obx #outerbanks #jj Maybank angst #rafe cameron #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x reader

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dragongirl642 · 2 months

Text

The eyes are the windows to the soul

Author note:

I've been inspired by a few doppelganger x readers on here.

Monster lovers, come get your food. This is a little doppelganger/shapeshifter/mimic monster x human gn reader.

Trigger warnings: mention of domestic violence/abuse. Uncanny valley.

Masterlist

First > Next

--------------------------Start---------------------------

It's been two days. Two days since you last saw your boyfriend, Cameron. Two days of recovery and tension.

The bruises on your cheek and shoulder are purple now. It's an effort to avoid looking at them when you brush your teeth or take a shower.

He does this sometimes, disappears for a day to drink with friends. Usually after one of his outbursts.

It wasn't like this in the beginning. He was sweet and kind, a little jealous but it was cute how much he seemed to care about you. But after about a year into the relationship, little moments of jealousy turned into possesive outbursts, constant warm affection was slowly replaced with moments of cold indifference.

The sound of a key in the lock sets your heart racing.

You scramble to the hallway, positioning yourself by the stairs just as the door opens. "Welcome home." Coy and grateful, just how he likes you.

He pauses in the doorway, just staring at you.

You fidget, fighting the urge to flinch when he suddenly strides towards you, hands coming up to clasp your arms. The smell of vodka is faint, nowhere near as strong as usual.

There is something strange in the way he looks at you, eyes roving over your face like he's trying to memorise your expression.

He doesn't say anything. Just stares.

The silence starts to weight heavy on you, like a weighted blanket cocooning your limbs. Desperate for a positive reactive, you speak. "I've missed you."

The tension suddenly lifts as a smile cracks his face and he places a kiss to your forehead. "To hear you say that, makes me so," a kiss to you cheek, "so," a kiss to the other cheek, "happy," finally, a kiss to the tip of your nose.

He moves to the side and places a gentle hand on the small of your back and gestures into the living room. "Shall we?"

--------------------------Time Skip----------------------

This evening has been strange. He is too affectionate. Too calm. Almost like how he was in the beginning and yet not at all like he used to be.

Sometimes he unnerves you with his choice of words. He keeps joking about how you look good enough to eat and he calls your cooking as delicious as you.

You almost split a coke on his knee and he just laughed. Called you his clumsy cutie and went to the kitchen to wipe himself off. No twitching fingers or sign of anger.

Sometimes, you catch him smiling out the corner of your eye. Something about his face haunts you. Eyes too wide and blacked out. Smile tearing his face apart, stretching from earlobe to earlobe. But when you turn your head to look, he looks normal, fixing you with a gentle, loving smile.

After washing the dishes together, he leads you in swaying around the kitchen to the tune trickling from the radio.

It feels like the honeymoon phase all over again. A part of you is celebrating this change, finally he seems to be the old Cameron you fell in love with again...but a smaller (strangely louder) part of you is screaming that something is wrong, something bad is coming.

The questions pile up inside you until, just before getting ready for bed, you can't stop yourself from reaching out for Cameron's arm.

He turns to face you with a wide smile.

"Um, Cameron." You're full of nervous energy, fidgeting with the edge of your top. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course, luv." He gently brushes a strand of hair away from your face. A gentle loving smile crinkling the skin around his blue almost silvery eyes.

The realisation suddenly hits you. Your feel a sinking feeling, like a rock just dropped into your stomach.

Cameron's eyes are brown.

First > Next

#doppelganger x reader #mimic x reader #monster x reader #shapeshifter x reader #x reader #monster x human #doppelganger #mimic #shapeshifter #human reader #monster boyfriend #monster x you #the eyes are the windows to the soul

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cherienymphe · 8 months

Text

Haunted (Damon Salvatore x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, MURDER, compulsion, blood, stalking, abusive relationship, domestic violence

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies

summary: If you'd known that your ex-boyfriend was a vampire, you would've gotten a stake instead of a restraining order.

You patted your face dry with the small hand towel, basking in the silence that surrounded you. It was the silence of a home that belonged entirely to you, occupied with no one else but you. You weren’t concerned with who was standing over your shoulder nor whose face would greet yours in the reflection when you looked up.

When you walked out of the bathroom, there was no surprise guest waiting for you by the door…or on your bed.

You liked to think that you were always a good judge of character. You always made good and trustworthy friends, always avoided conflict with wicked people, and even picked boyfriends that treated you nothing less than decent. Every single one had been perfect, and the only thing that contributed to the downfall of your relationships was nothing more than maturity and growing apart.

Then Damon happened.

He was everything you always avoided. Devilishly handsome—the kind that drove girls to lose all common sense—, hedonistic to a fault, and mysterious in ways that grew less sexy and more concerning over time. That crooked smile of his went from mischievous to nerve-wracking. His knack for knowing where you seemed to be at all times morphed from caring to worrying.

Damon looked like the devil come to earth…and he slowly started to feel that way too.

You stared out of your window with your hands at your side, dismayed at how you of all people ended up in such a situation. Gone were the days where you always wanted to be around him and soon came the days where you were scrambling for just five minutes away from him. There was a time where you thought you’d never get that again…but here you were…back home…

…and safe.

Mystic Falls was small and quaint and quiet. Granted, you hadn’t been home in years, but upon returning, it was like nothing had changed. Your house was still the same, your cousin and great aunt were still the same, and you felt more at peace with one foot into the town than you had in almost a year. It wasn’t until you were finally away from him did you realize just how much Damon had drained you.

He took up so much of your time that you’d been driven to drop out of school with only another year left. You’d been too overwhelmed, and unable to pinpoint the exact problem at the time, you’d broken down in class and came to the conclusion that college was the problem when in actuality…the problem was the raven-haired man who shadowed your every footstep.

You looked down at your wrists, recalling the way he used to wrap his hands around them when he wanted your full attention. That was something he seemed to hate, how much he could never fully hold your attention. How your every waking thought wasn’t consumed with him.

Damon absolutely hated not being the center of your universe. He hated when you’d call your cousin or great aunt to see how they were doing. He hated when you went out with your friends after class. He hated when he’d call or come by, and you were otherwise occupied. It had seemed like he wanted you to sit around twiddling your thumbs with nothing to do but wait for him.

You’d thought it was cute at first, that he was just so enamored with you that he wanted to spend all his free time with you, but then… Then you saw it for what it was, most especially when he’d snatched your arm one day, forcing you to pause in your phone call. It happened so suddenly, and you’d been in shock, but your incredulous stare had done nothing to deter him.

“Sweetheart…I had plans to take you out.”

He’d said it in that smooth baritone of his, the kind that made your knees weak, and instead of holding your resolve, you’d actually given in. You had actually felt bad for holding him up and ruining his surprise, profusely apologizing before bidding your cousin goodbye. He hadn’t let you go once that night, and if you’d been concerned by it—something you couldn’t even recall—it had definitely been long gone by the end of the night.

Damon had a way of making you overlook every concerning detail, especially when he was kissing you and playing your body so well that it seemed like you’d been dating for years instead of less than seven months. Whenever you closed your eyes, it was easy to recall the feel of his soft lips gliding down your stomach, his nimble fingers sliding into you, his hips pressing against yours as he filled you up.

It was all a distraction, a pretty package to hide his true nature.

Even though you were hundreds of miles away, far away from your ex-boyfriend, a shudder still passed through you at the mere thought of him. You stared out into the night with your arms wrapped around yourself, teeth sinking into your lip. You flexed your wrist, still surprised at what it felt like to not hurt after all this time, and you took a step back away from the window.

Your eyes strayed to the lock, confirming that it was locked, and you slowly made your way downstairs. Despite the fact that you knew they were, you still wanted to make sure that both doors were locked too. Damon was far away, and even if he wasn’t, your restraining order made sure he would stay that way, but something in you couldn’t hold off the feeling that he was just over your shoulder.

You didn’t think Damon would ever go through such lengths, but there had also been a time where you didn’t think he’d ever show up at your door again after you’d blatantly broken up with him. You didn’t think there’d be a time where he sprained your wrist. You never imagined a day would come where you’d make your way down to the police station and have to plead your case about getting a protective order.

In truth, you still didn’t know how you’d been granted it. One minute they’d been adamantly against it because Damon hadn’t done anything to you that you could prove, and the next, you’d been staring at a piece of paper that said if he came within a certain distance of you, he’d be arrested.

You made your way up your stairs with a small sigh, chest feeling heavy no matter how many times you exhaled. You glanced over your shoulder on your way up, gaze lingering on the front door as if some entity from the other side was willing you to open it. With a shudder, you turned back around and locked yourself in your bedroom.

The cool Virginia air was almost biting as you deposited your groceries in your car. As convinced as you were that you hated the cold, you missed it infinitely when you were away. You had longed for the comforts of home a lot, but more so when deep in the toxic cycle of your relationship. You had never longed for home more than when Damon was cornering you and intimidating you with those icy blue eyes of his.

You paused at the thought, hand on your car as one incident in particular came to mind. You struggled to swallow at the memory, almost able to feel the gentle brush of his nose against yours as he leaned in and asked if you were stupid. The words alone had been insulting, tears springing to your eyes at the sound of Damon talking to you in such a way.

However, the true hurt set in when his hand had pressed into the wall next to your head, completely trapping you. He wouldn’t let you leave, and anytime you’d moved to one side, he would be there…blocking your way, blue eyes staring you down. It was one of the first moments you’d been scared of Damon, and instead of recognizing that for the true sign that it was, you only wrote it off as a once off.

A honking horn pulled you from your thoughts, and you flinched, startled by the sound.

You glanced over to see that someone had almost hit someone else in the street, one of the two clearly not paying attention to the other. You stared at the cars for a moment more before glancing up. You were just about to slide into your own vehicle when your eyes passed over something scarily familiar. Or…

Perhaps someone was a more fitting word.

You glanced up again, but your gaze landed on nothing. There was no one standing across the street in the square even though you’d been absolutely sure of what you saw. The longer you stared, it was like you were trying to will yourself to see what you swore you just saw, but no familiar fair skinned figure appeared. No man with dark hair and hypnotizing blue eyes was in sight, and you stood there for a few seconds more before finally sinking into your car.

Your fingers were tight on the wheel the whole way to your house, and you didn’t realize just how badly you’d spooked yourself until you were parked and unloading your car. Your house wasn’t out in the middle of nowhere or outskirts of town, but the dense woods faced you, and as you carried groceries back and forth from the car to the house, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being…watched.

You stood at your door with your last groceries in hand, staring out before you with a small frown. It was late in the evening, and while the sun hadn’t disappeared completely, it was threatening to. Your town was no stranger to the odd string of animal attacks here and there, and it was that thought that forced you into the house, turning the lock shut behind you.

The silence that met you was as welcoming as it always was now.

Dinner was quick to make, and your shower was even quicker to take, towel securely wrapped around you as you stepped out of the bathroom. You faced your window when you came out, and you stopped short at the sight of a crow perched on the sill. You tightened your fingers in your towel, clutching it to you as you stared at the dark bird.

Your brows slowly furrowed with a frown.

You were working hard to remember if it was normal for crows to be out at night, and despite the fact that a singular bird was of no consequence to you, you still couldn’t shake the feeling its mere presence was…off. Pulling your gaze away, you dropped your towel and threw on a t-shirt. One deep inhale told you that it was one of Damon’s old shirts, and you were tempted to rip it off, throw it in the garbage even, but the smell of a scent you hadn’t inhaled in ages gave you pause.

How was it possible to miss someone who was so horrible to you?

Refusing to linger on what that meant, you quickly made your way downstairs to eat. You replied to a few of Bonnie’s texts, telling her you might come by tomorrow or another. It had been a good week or so since you’d last seen her, and you were feeling like a bad cousin. You weren’t of the right mind to explain your odd behavior and reclusive habits as of late. You wondered if you ever would be.

You were washing and drying your dishes when something out of the ordinary made you blink.

You lifted your eyes, startled by the sight of a familiar face faintly appearing in the glass. The sight had the plate slipping from your fingers, and you only tore your eyes away when the sound of breaking glass reached your ears. You quickly glanced down, taking in the sight of your unblemished feet before glancing back up.

The only face that stared back at you was yours.

You felt paralyzed, lips parting and chest heaving as you just…stared at the window. The more you stared, the crazier you felt, and you pressed your hand to your forehead. Your heart wouldn’t stop racing no matter how hard you tried to make it so. Your lips were parted in dismay, and you slowly dropped a hand to press it to your chest.

With trembling hands and legs, you slowly knelt down.

You were so sure… You had been certain, in fact… Damon’s face had been clear as day in your kitchen window, and yet in the blink of an eye, it was gone just as quickly. You knew that you were quite literally driving yourself insane, and you struggled to clean up your glass. Once your mess was clear, you quickly closed the kitchen window curtain, blinking back tears.

You trekked back to your room in a daze, and you made sure to lock your bedroom door once you were inside.

You thought to yourself that sleep could not find you fast enough, but sleep was not the escape you thought it would be.

Your dreams—or nightmares rather—were filled with familiar pink lips and cruel blue eyes. Damon’s mouth covered your own even when you struggled for air. His hands ran over you, and his fingers kneaded into your skin. It started out as nice as it once did, but just like your relationship, it quickly morphed into something sinister. The pink of Damon’s lips were replaced with the red of blood, the color smearing all over you as he kissed you wherever he desired.

The gentle touch of his hands became painful, sharp pains flaring in your sides and arms as he held you down. The loving roll of his hips turned into something violent and assaulting, forcing screams from your lips and tears from your eyes. No matter how much you begged, it was as if your pleas fell on deaf ears, and your only escape was in the waking world.

Darkness greeted you when you sat up in bed, eyes wide and lips parted as you gasped for breath. Despite the cold weather outside and the blasting A/C inside, your skin was dewy with sweat. You quickly kicked the covers off of you, pressing your hand to your chest and wiping your face with the other. It all felt too real, and your entire body shook—enough to shake the bed too.

Your gaze traveled over your room, and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest at the shadowy outline by your door. A scream escaped your lips, and you scrambled to turn on the light, no relief filling you when no one was there. You only stared at where you could’ve sworn someone was standing, throat tightening and tears escaping.

You pulled your trembling lip between your teeth, just staring at the empty space where someone once was—had to be. You stared at the space for what felt like too long before finally pulling your gaze away, slowly bringing your knees up to your chest and wrapping one arm around them. Your other hand pressed to your forehead, eyes squeezing shut as you fought against the idea that you were going crazy, but you had to be.

Damon was far away and wouldn’t be coming for you. It was so likely that he’d moved on already, long found someone else to replace you and torment. That thought was equally terrifying and comforting, and you sniffed. Once you started, you couldn’t stop, and the tears kept coming. You didn’t want to accept it…

…but you were starting to think that Damon had truly driven you insane.

“You’ve been back home for a little over a month, and I’ve seen you twice,” Bonnie told you with a tilt of her head. “You need to visit more.”

“I know,” you sighed as she walked you to the door. “Unpacking and all that…”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her you were plagued with thoughts and dreams and visions of a dark-haired tormentor. Damon was everywhere you looked, and in your efforts to avoid him in your dreams, sleep was something you ran from these days. However, he found a home out of the corner of your eye and in window reflections instead. It was haunting, and that bird…

That damn bird.

It cawed at you in the early hours of the morning, and what you’d once written off as a curious creature quickly turned into a terrifying symbol. Something about that crow reminded you of Damon, dark and unmoving and always watching. Every time you tried to shoo it away, it never moved, never even flinched. It was completely unafraid of you…

Like someone else you knew.

You had begun to dread it’s very presence, turning your back to it once settled in bed.

“Well, if you need help taking out all your things, you know I’m happy to help,” she offered with a small frown.

“I appreciate the offer, but…I’m basically done, now,” you lied.

The other girl pouted a bit but accepted your response. When she reached out to touch you, her bare hands landing on the skin of your arms, she froze. Her eyes widened as she looked up at you, fingers pressing into your arms as she swallowed, your gaze drawn to the action. You hadn’t ever seen that look on Bonnie’s face before, expression stricken and face losing all its color.

“Are you…okay…?”

You blinked at her at that, your turn to frown, now. Bonnie suddenly shook her head as if clearing her thoughts.

“I…I’m sorry, I… Grams has been up to her normal tricks again, and she…”

The look on Bonnie’s face gave you pause. You knew how kooky your great aunt could be, and the family entertained her because it was nothing more than good natured fun, but the severity in Bonnie’s voice had you seriously holding her gaze.

“What…? What is it?”

She looked disturbed.

“You just…you just feel so cold…and not like you’re cold, but like you’re…empty of all warmth.”

Your face fell.

“Of all life.”

You slowly pulled away at that, unsure of what to say and only able to settle for laughing it off. Bonnie didn’t really join in, and you ignored her weak attempts to get you to stay, to keep you from going home.

“Bonnie, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you reassured her.

Her expression wasn’t one of agreement, but she eventually let your hand go, albeit reluctantly.

“Just…call me as soon as you get home, okay?” she urged.

You promised her that you would, trying to assure her with your eyes that everything would be fine as you made your way to your car. Her wave back lacked enthusiasm, and you tried not to linger on that as you drove back home. It was dark when you parked in your driveway, and you made sure to be brisk when you got out of your car.

Like before, the imposing presence of the dense woods made your body buzz with energy—with adrenaline. Your hands shook as you struggled to find your house key. You felt clumsier than normal, heart beginning to race beneath your chest. You swore you heard a branch or something snap, and you fought the urge to look over your shoulder, only focused on the keys in your hand.

You only just touched the right one when the entire keychain slipped from your fingers.

The sound of it hitting the concrete seemed so loud, and you felt a chill pass through you at the sight of it at your feet. With a brief pause, you bent down to get it, feeling a warmth in your back that you’d only felt in the presence of one other person. With your fingers on the key, you didn’t hesitate to rise to your feet and unlock the door. A cool breeze passed by you, and the shiver to crawl up your spine somehow felt like it was from more than that.

You practically stumbled inside of your house, tripping across the threshold, and you only spun around once you were inside, shocked at the sight before you.

Only your car, your yard, and the trees greeted you.

Your hand was on the door, the other hanging limply at your side. Your yard was completely empty of anyone, most of all who you feared the most, and you swallowed. Your gaze moved from side to side, tilting your head this way and that, completely shocked with the realization that it was all in your head. Even with this truth staring you in the face, you couldn’t stop yourself from shaking.

Not even when you shut the door and pressed your back to it.

You felt too hot, blood pumping too fast in your body, and with a shuddering exhale, you forced yourself to go upstairs and shower, hoping it would solve your problems for the night.

The blaring sound of your car alarm was what forced you out of your sleep. It was hard to discern what the noise even was at first. After all, you could count the number of times on one hand someone had actually set it off. You rubbed your eyes while struggling to sit up, the annoying sound of the alarm only making you more irritated when combined with your lack of sleep.

It took nothing at all to find your keys on your nightstand and shut it off, and the night was bathed in silence once again. The silence felt so loud though, and for a moment, you almost wished your alarm would sound again. You slowly started to relax when you jumped, the sound of your car alarm filling the room once again. This time you did get up, and you stared down into the yard as you clicked the button.

Silence met you, and the yard was bathed in darkness once more. You stared down into the darkness, wondering what kind of animal could be hitting against your car with that much force. There was a sinister thought in that back of your mind that it was no animal at all, and you struggled to force it away. No. Damon would never…

Even if you wanted to be conceited for all of five minutes, logically, why would Damon follow you here? Why would he come after you? It had been a good month since you saw him before you finally came back home, relaxed in the thought that the restraining order had clued him in on how serious you really were. It made no sense for Damon to still be chasing after you, and yet…

As you stared down into your yard, casting your eyes this way and that for any sign of the man who still haunted your dreams, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was out there. No shape seemed out of place and no shadow stood out to you as unordinary, but you could not shake that feeling that he was staring right back at you…and you didn’t even know it.

Closing the curtain and backing away, you gently dropped your keys back onto the nightstand. Yu clutched your sheet just under your chin as you stared up at the ceiling, laying straight on your back and as stiff as a board. The house felt too quiet, now, and that silence that you’d grown to love only served to torment you, now.

You flinched when something hit your window hard, a familiar caw reaching your ears, and you slowly sat up. Your eyes widened a tad at the sight of that dark bird through the curtain, and you remembered finally reading something the other day that crows were not typically nocturnal. The sight of it stirred something so negative in you that you couldn’t even look at it, turning and facing the wall.

It cawed again, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

Something about this just wasn’t right. You didn’t know how but all of this felt off somehow, and you squeezed your eyes tighter as the bird’s sound reached your ears again. A few tears passed through, escaping your tightly shut eyes, and you pulled your sheet over your head. Lick clockwork, that crow would caw every hour or so, and the silence in between was spent staring into the darkness instead of actually sleeping, just knowing it was there and waiting for it to sound again.

Your lack of sleep was commented on the next day.

“It’s just taking some getting used to, being back in my old house and all that,” you softly said, waving Bonnie and Caroline off.

You remembered Caroline Forbes from when you were younger, the blonde girl barely pushing the age of five then. She was just as talkative and lively as you remembered. You also remembered an additional girl to complete the trio, and Caroline excitedly hummed.

“Elena is off on a weekend trip with her boyfriend. Stefan Salvatore,” she told you, and the way she said his name told you all you needed to know about what he looked like. “I would be so jealous if I hadn’t already had the other brother. Been there, done that.”

She made a face that clued you in on how that had ended.

“It lasted all of three months before he decided he was tired of me and took off,” she scoffed. “I want no parts of that family.”

Bonnie hummed in agreement.

“Damon was way too old for you anyway, Caroline. He’s like…Y/N’s age, and that would be like her dating Jeremy.”

They both made pinched faces, disgusted with the thought, and you were inclined to agree when you suddenly frowned. You blinked, turning to look at Bonnie as the name that came out of her mouth finally registered. You felt your heart sink, and feeling your eyes on her, Bonnie turned to look at you.

“Did you say…Damon?”

“Yeah, Damon. Stefan’s brother. I don’t think you ever met him,” she added. “He came back to town a good year after you left, and he left…maybe three years ago?”

“With barely a goodbye,” Caroline mumbled, and it was easy to tell she was still rightfully bitter about the whole thing.

You told yourself that it was a coincidence, but you recalled Damon’s mysterious nature, the lack of information he ever gave up about his personal life. Although the one thing you did know was that he was from Virginia too…and you told yourself that it was nothing more than a coincidence. It had to be.

You grew quiet, Bonnie and Caroline none the wiser to your silent disposition. You took a sip of your drink, glancing around The Grill. It was a Friday night, and it was packed like any other Friday night. Adults and teenagers alike were hanging out at the one hot spot in town, and when your gaze glided over the bar, a familiar pair of blue eyes connected with yours.

You bumped Bonnie when you jumped, and you were quick to turn and apologize to her after your drink spilled some. She didn’t take offense, seemingly more concerned for you than anything else, and you assured her you were fine, heart racing as you turned back towards the bar. Your eyes passed up and down it at least a few times, but Damon was nowhere in sight, and you set your drink down.

You pressed your hand to your forehead, wondering if you had too much to drink. You knew that wasn’t true. You’d barely had two glasses of beer, and you closed your eyes. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, breathing in through your mouth and exhaling through your nose. You only opened your eyes when Bonnie touched your arm, Caroline now quiet too.

“I think I’m gonna head home,” you suddenly said, standing and grabbing your purse.

“Oh, okay.”

You hated the disappointment you heard in Bonnie’s voice as you searched your purse for some cash.

“I’m just not feeling the best. I shouldn’t have come, but I really wanted to see you guys,” you honestly told her.

Bonnie smiled at that.

“You really shouldn’t have. You can always see us. You need to be getting more rest,” she advised.

You agreed, throwing some cash on the table.

“By the way, Grams is going to make you more of those cookies she always used to send you. I told her that you ran out weeks ago, and she freaked. Demanded to know why I hadn’t told her sooner,” she chuckled.

“Ooh is that like some witchy thing?” Caroline wondered, wiggling her fingers.

You and Bonnie rolled your eyes, loathe to admit how right Caroline was.

“She swears that they protect Y/N and brought her good luck while she was away,” the brunette told her.

“I don’t have the heart to tell her she should probably find a new recipe,” you mumbled with a shake of your head.

If they knew the things you’d been through with Damon, they’d know that those cookies hadn’t done a thing to help you. You waved them both goodbye, keys in hand as you walked out the door. You learned your lesson from last time, keeping the one you needed directly between your fingers to save less time. However, smart thinking would never trump clumsiness, and you cursed when your keys hit the pavement. You were thankful that you were just at your door though, bending down to pick them up…

When another hand beat you to it.

It startled you, and a nervous thank you was just on the tip of your lips…when you lifted your eyes.

Damon was even prettier than you remembered. Skin perfect and unblemished, eyes a crystalline blue that didn’t look real, and hair as dark as the night sky behind him. You thought you were imagining things at first, as you had been for a good month, now, and you slowly forced yourself to stand. You couldn’t find any words to say, just staring at him and trying to figure out if this was another trick of your mind. The faint noise of the people standing outside The Grill just across the street faded into the background as he moved…and handed you your keys.

Your lips parted, a gasp escaping when his fingers brushed against your skin as he laid them in your palm. You stared down at them for a few seconds before lifting your gaze again, heart stuttering and skipping beats as it registered within your mind. He was real, he was really here in Mystic Falls, and you couldn’t even decide on what to feel.

Damon’s blue eyes fell to your chest, right where your heart was as if he could hear it, and you blinked.

“Damon.”

You almost whispered his name, too afraid to say it too loudly.

“You… I have a restraining order,” you finally remembered, frowning at him.

He didn’t respond at first, merely tilting his head to the side as he drank you in. You’d grown to hate that gesture, the act nothing more than an indication of the condescending thoughts running rampant in his mind. When he looked at you like he was looking at you now, it used to make you feel cute.

Now, it just made you feel stupid.

“How does it feel to be back home?”

He completely ignored you, and you clenched your keys in your hand.

“To catch up with the family and the friends,” he drawled, doing that thing with his eyes that made your heart jump. “Unpacking in that big ole house by your lonesome?”

Your frown deepened at his words.

“You know…”

He leaned over, resting his arm on the top of your car, propping his head up with his hand.

��When you broke up with me, I didn’t quite believe you,” he admitted.

“I know,” you whispered, recalling the day he’d shown up on your doorstep like nothing happened.

“…but then the restraining order, that seemed a little more serious.”

You looked around, glancing over your shoulder at The Grill, willing someone—anyone—to just glance over.

“…and the cops…they were never going to take you seriously. Why would they…?”

Making the decision not to hear another word of this, you moved to unlock your door. You opened it for all of two seconds before Damon was pressing his hand against it, shutting it. He was so close, and when you looked up, his lips were so close to yours.

“…but I was in a…let’s say…fun mood.”

You bit your lip when he slid his entire body to rest against your door, arms crossed over his chest as he regarded you.

“I decided to convince them to go ahead with it,” he told you, face even as he stared you down. “I just wanted to see what you’d do.”

You blinked at his words, taken aback with confusion. Damon had changed their minds…? Why would he do that? How did that even work? He suddenly sighed, glancing up towards the sky.

“I never imagined you’d actually leave,” he grumbled, pouting.

You reached your hand into your purse, your fingers just grazing your phone when the whole bag was snatched away. The only thing that remained were the keys in your hand, and your heart dropped to your stomach when Damon sighed, running his hand through his dark strands. You heard your purse land somewhere behind him, and the glint in his eyes told you just how angry he was.

It was not an unfamiliar sight.

“Damon…”

You took a step back, but he was faster, his hands coming up to gently cup your face. You hadn’t realized you started crying until his thumbs brushed your tears away. He gently shushed you, but there was nothing soothing about it. It was often a sound you heard just before his fingers harshly dug into your jaw.

“You need to leave…before I call the police,” you choked out.

He actually laughed.

The sound was so disheartening, and it sounded genuine, like the thought actually tickled him. Like the idea was so preposterous, the idea that they could do anything to him, at all. The sound was so convincing that you almost believed it yourself, almost believed that he really was untouchable.

“…and what are they going to do? Hmm?”

His hand tightened on your jaw, and you winced. His face wasn’t so pretty, now, faint veins appearing under his eyes just before they disappeared as quickly as they came. The sight stumped you, and you stared at him through stricken eyes.

“Hey, is everything alright?”

Relief filled you at the sound of the new voice, and Damon’s expression evened out, just as pretty as before. He huffed, and you watched him roll his eyes just before turning to face the newcomer behind him. You didn’t hesitate to unlock your car, sliding into it and locking the door just as Damon’s hand hit the window. You froze at the crack that now adorned it, looking at Damon through the glass with an expression you couldn’t even name.

The sound of your name reached your ears as he called your name, his mockingly chipper tone barely able to hide the malice beneath it. You didn’t look back as you drove away, hurrying to beat him to your house. His words were stuck in your mind, and you were certain, now that he actually had been stalking you. You weren’t sure how that related to any of the other stuff, convinced he’d still managed to drive you mad, but Damon most definitely had been to your house.

You car was barely parked and turned off good before you were hopping out, sprinting to the door. Light flooded your home when you flipped the switch, and without a cell phone, you were forced to rely on the landline. It took you a good seven seconds to realize that you’d heard no dial tone when you picked it up, and that pressing any buttons was going to do no good.

Someone had cut the phone line.

The phone clattered to the floor as the realization hit you, and no second thoughts were needed to know who did it. The room swayed a bit, and you just knew you were going to be sick any moment now. The confirmation that Damon had in fact been watching you brought you no sense of satisfaction for not actually being crazy. In fact, you wished you’d just made it all up in your head. At least then you wouldn’t have to deal with the harsh knocks on your door.

The scream you let out bounced off of the walls, and you clutched your stomach as you fought to hold in your sobs.

The faint sound of your name reached your ears in the living room.

“I really hate that it had to come to this, you know I do…”

You slowly looked up, tearful gaze resting on the front door.

“…but you should probably come and talk to me face to face…before I do something…”

There was a slight pause, and you could almost imagine that mirthful smirk adorning his lips.

“…drastic.”

His tone gave you pause, and you felt at war with yourself. Logically, you would have to leave your house at some point. You did not think you’d be able to wait him out, but something in you screamed at you to. Something in you was convinced that you could, but a part of you was telling you that if he’d come all this way, followed you all the way back to both yours and his hometown, there was no telling the lengths he’d go to. You’d watched enough Dateline, enough Investigation Discovery, and despite the fact that you didn’t ever want to think he’d be that bad, something in you wondered if you’d wake up to the smell of smoke and burning flames one night.

Slowly approaching the door, you heard Damon chuckle, like he could perfectly hear your footsteps.

“Come on, baby,” he softly said. “I don’t have all night.”

It took all of your strength to unlock and open the door, and when you did…

You almost immediately regretted it.

You didn’t recognize the woman he had in his arms, only knew that she was crying and clearly in distress. You looked between them before resting your gaze on Damon, staring at him as if he were crazy. Your lips parted in shock, and your gaze fell back to his hand, the one he had around her neck.

“Damon…what are you doing…?” you slowly asked him, lifting your hands just as slow as if trying to stall whatever he was about to do.

“I’m doing what you made me do.”

His nostrils flared as he stared you down, blaming you for his actions, and a choked gasp escaped you.

“She-.”

“She’s going to die if you don’t step outside, right now.”

He said it so suddenly, so evenly, that you felt no other option than to believe him. Your frown deepened as you searched his eyes for some remorse, a hint of a joke, some leniency there that would give way if you pushed hard enough, but you saw none of that. Damon’s eyes had never looked so cold, and you knew then that he was entirely serious.

“Damon,” you choked out.

“Now,” was his only response, tone clipped as the girl—no older than you—cried in his arms.

You felt bad. This—whatever this was—was between the two of you, and Damon had dragged an innocent woman into it. You moved, and once one of your feet was over the threshold, a tight grip on your neck completely obstructed your breathing. On instinct, you reached up to grip his arm, panicked.

His blue gaze was all you could see, and you blinked back tears as he spoke.

“You made me do this.”

He didn’t give you time to linger on that before he pulled the other girl closer, having never let her go before grabbing you with his free hand.

You were completely frozen in shock as you watched him lean in and savagely bite her neck. The screams she let out were the kind to fill your nightmares, and you couldn’t believe what you were witnessing. You felt like you were stuck in an endless nightmare, unable to pull your eyes away from the sight of his violent assault, and unable to close your ears to the sounds of her screams, her struggle, and his teeth in her neck.

In her panic, the strange woman reached out to grip your arm, and the longer he bit her—fed from her—the weaker her grip became. Tears sprung to your eyes at the feel of her hand loosening on you, and they spilled over altogether when her hand finally let you go, falling at her side. You knew then that she was dead even if Damon hadn’t carelessly dropped her as proof.

You couldn’t breathe when he turned his gaze back to you.

Like before, those veins were under his eyes, but they were more prominent now, more terrifying to look at. His lips were completely covered in blood, some even smearing across his chin, and despite the new reality you were faced with, you still couldn’t believe it. You only gave some indication that you were still coherent when his lips grazed your cheek, a shuddering gasp leaving you.

“I missed you…you know that?” he murmured against your skin.

He took a step forward…and then another and then another, forcing you back with every one. His hand was still tight on your neck, and the other slowly snaked around your waist, pulling you closer. Damon didn’t stop until you were right in front of your door, and you looked at him like less than a stranger—like a monster straight out of every horror you’d been able to get your hands on.

You couldn’t move as he leaned in, bloody lips pressing against your cheek.

“Now, that those God-awful cookies—and everything in them—are out of your system for good…”

You didn’t understand what that had to do with anything, but soon, you didn’t understand nor comprehend anything.

Damon’s pupils were all that you could focus on, even in the darkness, and as they expanded, they were all that seemed to fill your vision. You felt yourself relaxing, shoulders drooping as the calmest feeling washed over you. Damon’s hand rubbed circles into your lower back, and the hand on your neck loosened some, his thumb smearing blood along your chin.

“Invite me in.”

How insane.

Why on earth would you ever invite him into your home? That was what you thought anyway, but the words that left your mouth were entirely different. You felt your lips move, and you heard your voice as you did what he said, and it was only when the warmth of your home replaced the cold Virginia air of outside did Damon let you go.

In doing so, his gaze broke away from yours, and you stumbled back in both shock and confusion.

Why did you do that? How did he make you do that? You could only back away from him as he slowly walked about the room, gaze roaming over the inside of your house with a hum.

“Cute,” he mused, and more tears fell. “So…homely. I can just imagine you baking in the kitchen.”

He moved his hands about with a chuckle and feeling both out of control and like you finally had control for the first time in moments, you sprinted for the door. In the blink of an eye, Damon’s arms were wrapped around you, and the sight of him drinking from that girl would never compare to the feeling, you supposed.

It was hard to make a sound when his teeth sank into your skin, and you reached back, desperately trying to pull him away to no avail. Damon’s arms were so tight around you, painfully, and you gasped when he backed up, pulling you with him. You couldn’t stop crying, and as your mind still fought to process just what he was, it hit you then that maybe you hadn’t been going insane.

Maybe he had been messing with your head somehow, watching you from the trees, showing up at odd places before disappearing. Your feet kicked at the feel of him pulling from you, and you could feel yourself growing weaker by the second. As if he could feel it too, Damon suddenly let you go, and you collapsed at his feet.

You shakily reached up to touch your neck, unsurprised by what you felt, and you failed to push yourself onto your knees.

“We were so good together…no…?”

You tried to bite back a sob, but it was no use. Damon tsk’d at the sound, and soon you were turned over to face him. He looked down at you like you were a misbehaving child, head tilted and lips pursed.

“You needed some time. I get that,” he nodded. “I even gave you that…”

You watched him kneel down, feeling too weak to even attempt to move, and your heart skipped a beat as you watched him peel off his jacket. He reached out to gently drag a finger down the side of your face, lingering at your lips.

“…but you don’t leave me. You don’t runaway from, and you definitely don’t keep me out.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips over yours before kissing you fully. You pushed at his chest, but it was a weak attempt, and you were unsurprised when Damon batted your hand away, pulling at your clothes with ease. A few tears escaped, running past your ears, and you could only arch up into his mouth when he bit your stomach.

A humming sound escaped him, and a warm feeling filled you.

You didn’t want to feel that, and with every article of clothing Damon got rid of, he marked the area with his teeth. When he kissed you again, his bare chest touched yours, and you felt powerless to stop what was happening. You’d done everything right. You’d broken up with, even went to the police when he didn’t respect your boundaries, and to real put the nail in the coffin, you moved away. You came back home and got far away from Damon.

…but what was far when the equation involved a vampire?

As Damon pushed himself into you with a low groan, you wondered how you had missed it. He obviously fed while you were together, he wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t, and considering how little human life clearly meant to him, you had to assume that Damon wasn’t of the…sympathetic variety. You tried to recall if anyone had gone missing back in the town where campus was, but it was hard to focus with Damon thrusting into you.

His face was pressed into the crook of your neck, and your hips involuntarily rose to meet his with every movement. Blood was still on his mouth when he pulled away, and when you reached up to push at his chest, Damon reached up to grab your hand. He twisted his fingers with your own before roughly pinning your hand down.

“What was the plan?” he wondered, his other hand finding a home on your neck. “Were you going to forget about me…? Move on?”

He said it like it was the craziest thing he’d ever heard, and more tears spilled over. The mere thought seemed to have upset him, and Damon leaned back down to bite into your chest. You hissed at the feel clenching around him, but Damon paid you no mind. He was too lost in the taste of you.

Thinking back on the memories of your tumultuous relationship, it scared you all the more to think of just what you’d been up against, all the while none the wiser.

Damon’s hips came down against yours with vigor, cock sliding in and out of you and making you shudder. The feel of him on top of you and in you brought you back to the happy days of your relationship, but the blood on his face and the tight grip on your neck only reminded you of what it had become.

Damon wouldn’t take his eyes off of you, staring down at you with those blue eyes, and when yours met his, life before, you felt your body relax as your vision was only filled with his widening pupils. You felt completely at his mercy, and you heard Damon hum.

“I want you to kiss me…like you kissed me on our first date.”

His words sparked the memory, and you felt a smile ghost along your lips as you recalled the excitedness in your as you’d pressed your lips against his. You’d been so bold then, so much like yourself before Damon had scared you into submission.

Overcome with the desire to do just that, you craned your head up to fiercely press your lips against his. Damon moaned into the kiss, and when he let your hand go, you threw your arms around his neck just as you had that night. Damon hummed against your lips, and you gasped against his at a particularly hard thrust. Even though you wanted to, you couldn’t stop kissing him.

You felt out of control of your own body, and tears kissed your eyes.

Your back slid along the floor with every snap of his hips, and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the otherwise quiet room. You felt Damon’s hand twist at the root of your hair, yanking your head back and away from him, and you only got a brief glimpse of the veins in his face before his teeth were sinking into your neck again. The feel of his teeth and cock in you were threatening to send you over the edge, too overwhelming to even focus on.

When Damon’s teeth left you, you shuddered, and he hummed. You felt his fingers smoothing along your face, and when he whispered for you to look at him, too afraid to do otherwise, you did. Tears were still skipping down your cheeks, and Damon ran his blue eyes over you, drinking you in with a sigh. He looked disappointed, but it was gone just as quickly as it came.

When his eyes held your gaze again, your lips parted, and another tear escaped at the hypnotizing words that gripped you.

“Do not leave me ever again…”

You swallowed, but you didn’t blink.

“You are mine, and if you even try to, I will kill your loved ones one by one, starting with that meddling family of yours.”

Your lips trembled.

“Nod if you understand.”

You gave him a slow nod, and a cruel smile fell over his lips. He fingered your chin, just looking at you with that small smile.

“Tell me you love me,” he murmured, and hit with the overwhelming urge to do just that…

You did.

#damon salvatore x reader #dark!damon salvatore #tvd #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries imagine #damon salvatore imagine #damon salvatore fanfiction #tvd fanfiction #the vampire diaries fanfiction

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neocentral · 7 months

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rating: 18+. mdni.

content: noncon, mentions of domestic violence, babytrapping (?), ex!jeno x reader

you were warned of evil men your whole life, and you never thought it would take you so long to realize that jeno was one of them.

you had broken up months ago, you could take the suffocating, possessive, and overall toxic behaviors of your ex boyfriend, even if you didn’t really want to. you were stuck, forced to hang off his arm and wait on him hand and foot. but it all changed the first time he had begun to take his anger out on you. you couldn’t keep accepting the same excuses proclaiming his love and dedication for you. his dependence. you couldn’t say you didn’t believe him because his dependency was clear as day. but it was wrong. he should never have treated you the way he did.

he was furious, unable to accept the fact that you had truly had enough and his words or actions could change anything. then, a cycle of aggression and anger that would turn into tears and begs that used to make your heart clench began. but you stood your ground. it was over.

the fact was solidified when you began to see na jaemin. you figured jeno would finally get it. move on and charm some other unfortunate woman, subjecting her to the relationship you escaped. you hoped he would replace you and get his life together, seemingly lost without you.

unfortunately, he hadn’t, continuing to silently torment you and growing even more persistent as time passed.

jeno was angry. trying to mask the furious heat that burned in his irises and radiated off his skin so hot you swore you could feel it. familiar fear bubbles in your veins, rushing up and down your body as his stare became more intense, focused solely on you and you alone. you tried to avoid him, losing yourself in crowds and avoiding any and all situations that could lead to a possible encounter. you even began to inch closer and closer to jaemin, seeking out his comforting warmth to attempt to distract yourself from the fire growing hotter and hotter.

that seemed to be enough for jeno to finally snap. another man’s touch on your skin, his presence alone softening the taut look on your face, ridding you of fear and discomfort. you should have known that jeno would always able to catch you and pull you back to him, whether you wanted to or not.

“what're you gonna do, huh?" jeno asks, teeth bared as he pounds into you. his grip on your throat is unrelenting, making your mind go hazy and your vision to blur.

your thighs twitch towards each other every time they can, stopped by his hips before they can move any closer. you wheeze, unable to take a proper breath. "are you gonna tell him about this? about how I used you and came inside you? filled a filthy bitch like you full of my cum? maybe you'll be worth something when you’re carrying my child. when you’re back where you belong. with me.”

#tw noncon #I started this with haechan in mind #idk how we got here #I also feel like I’ve written something like this #starring... jeno !#screenplay…#[NEO] play…#jeno x reader #jeno smut #nct smut #nct x reader #nct hard hours #nct dream #nct #jeno

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yelena-bellova · 1 year

Text

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve: As We Were, As We Are

Plot: Y/n and Joel work to avoid each other in Jackson, until they’re forced together in their most vulnerable state.

Word Count: 13.9k (longest chapter yet)

Warnings: tlou ep.6 spoilers, canon-typical violence, implied smut, suggestive dialogue, blood, guns/knives, wounds, language, ptsd, anxiety, death of a child, (16+)

A/N: Oh, boy…this is the chapter it’s all been leading up to. Every question will be answered. This is the first part of the series I’ve been genuinely nervous to release because it’s so important, and I hope it lives up to all your expectations.

As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist unless your age/range is specified in your bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

I hope y’all enjoy this one, I definitely had the most fun writing it ❤️

—————

December, 2023. Jackson, Wyoming.

For as small of a place as the Jackson commune was, it was very easy for Joel and Y/n to avoid each other.

Soon after she returned from the bar with Tommy, Maria announced that it was the town’s movie night and she was going to take Ellie. While Y/n would have rather stayed at the house and hid herself away, she knew the best place to hide from Joel was anywhere a crowd was present.

Inside the mess hall, they’d organized the benches to create rows of seats for the kids. Ellie was seated in the middle, looking back every once in a while to Y/n, who was stood with Maria and Tommy.

After their conversation, Tommy hadn’t pressed Y/n anymore on the subject of Joel. He had observed them from the night they’d met to the minute he’d left the triage clinic. With his bird’s-eye-view of their relationship, he could tell that the torch they’d carried for one another burned still, purely from the passion in their voices when they spoke about each other. The way their eyes came alive when the other’s name was mentioned.

Y/n had allowed herself to switch off, mindlessly watching the movie. The overwhelming rush of emotions she’d felt from both the domestic beauty of Jackson and the reminder that she could never have it had exhausted her. When Ellie would look back, needing reassurance she was still there, all Y/n felt capable of was a tiny nod. There was nothing left in her to give.

At some point during the film, Tommy reached over to tap Y/n on the shoulder and nodded towards the door. With him being the only person she fully trusted, she followed him out without question.

They walked through the light snowfall in silence, Y/n was under the impression he was trying to get her some fresh air. Even the snowflakes, in all their puritan beauty, couldn’t lift her mood. They just felt cold and annoying on her face.

Tommy guided them back to his and Maria’s house, unlocking the door. “WaIt here a minute.”

Y/n nodded, if it were possible, she never wanted to step foot in the house again.

Tommy disappeared for thirty seconds before emerging with a pair of winter boots in hand. Y/n was beginning to grow curious, but not enough to break her vow of silence.

They resumed their path down the middle of town, the lights strung from rooftop to rooftop combined with the decorated pine tree gave it a true Christmas feel. Tommy led them towards a building Y/n had yet to go into, a cobbler’s workshop.

“You pulled me out to help fix your boots?” Y/n asked as they climbed the steps.

Tommy didn’t answer, only opening the door and gesturing for her to enter. Y/n walked in, her eyes trailing the walls before they fell on the center of the room.

Where Joel was sat.

Joel had done a stellar job of not just avoiding Y/n, but his brother, Maria and Ellie. After his last episode, he hadn’t wanted to be around anyone. His busted boot had brought him to the workshop, he’d been pulling at the sole for nearly thirty minutes with no success. With each fruitless tug, his frustrations grew, and so did his tears. It was the meaningless failures in life that brought the deepest ones to the surface.

Y/n and Joel’s eyes met across the room, realization hitting Y/n as to why Tommy had brought her out. She turned to glare at him, seeing no remorse at all on his face.

“The guys said I might find you here,” Tommy said, brushing past Y/n to Joel and handing him the pair of boots, “Figured I’d save you the trouble.”

Y/n ran her palm across her forehead in both frustration and anxiety, turning on her heel and reaching for the doorknob.

“Hang on,” Tommy called, stopping her from moving any further, “Before you storm out of here…” he looked to Joel, “I shouldn’t have said what I said. I don’t even believe it…I know you’re happy for me, it’s just…complicated for you. And I’m sorry.”

Tommy turned his gaze to Y/n, “And you. I wasn’t tryin’ to hurt you, back at the bar, and bringin’ all that up wasn’t my best move.”

Y/n’s hand hovered over the knob, debating whether to run or stay. She didn’t have an explanation for the pull to remain, considering Joel was ten feet away from her, but she listened to it.

Joel didn’t have to question what ‘all that’ Tommy was referring to. If he’d brought it up to him him, he’d surely have brought it up with Y/n. Just knowing they’d talked about it hurt.

“So are you two gonna let me off the hook, or what?” Tommy asked, smiling the same way he had each time Y/n or Joel had bailed him out of jail.

Joel wished with everything in him that Y/n wasn’t in the room. Not with what he was about to say.

“This ride to the university…” he began, “Is it a suicide mission?”

Tommy’s brows lowered, “No. It’s dangerous, but it’s nothin’ you can’t handle. Just prepare and do what you do.”

“You’ve had people go that way and come back?” Joel continued.

“All of ‘em,” Tommy answered, “What is this?”

Joel couldn’t find it in himself to meet Y/n’s eyes. He felt the absence of her gaze, but his drifted in her direction, landing near her boots.

“She’s immune.”

Y/n instinctively tensed up, the two words they’d all swore not to speak suddenly hanging in the air.

“What?” Tommy said in shock.

“Ellie,” Joel replied, “She got infected but she didn’t get sick.”

Tommy flinched, naturally, making Y/n slide her body in front of the door.

“It’s true,” she said, “Fireflies found her up in Boston, she’d just been bit. We brought her in, quarantined her, tested her…” Y/n couldn’t bring herself to look at Joel, only at the floor under his feet, “Then it happened again. I saw it with my own two eyes…that was three months ago.”

A beat of silence added to the tension of the moment.

“She’s immune,” Joel pushed, his voice low and pleading.

Tommy looked between his brother and his almost-sister-in-law, thinking about the stark contrast between the last time it had been the three of them. He crossed the room, reluctantly coming to sit across from Joel.

Y/n, with her hands at her side and her eyes looking anywhere but at Joel, moved to where Tommy had been standing. It was too late to leave now…

“From the beginning,” Tommy requested of them both.

For reasons she couldn’t understand, Y/n’s eyes began to water before Joel even started to speak.

“It was Marlene,” he explained, “She hired us to smuggle her to some Fireflies. It went bad. Tess got bit. She made me swear to take the kid. It was her dyin’ wish,” Joel’s voice wavered slightly, “What the hell was I supposed to do?”

Y/n sunk her teeth down into her bottom lip, that hadn’t been Tess’ final request.

“We made it as far as K.C and then…”

Joel paused, the memories of Kansas City were ones he tried not to look back on, for so many reasons.

“You know, she saved my life there,” he continued, “From another kid.” He intentionally left Y/n out of the story, just addressing the memory of her almost dying overwhelmed him.

“Five years ago, I would have destroyed him,” Joel went on, “But she had to shoot him to save me. 14 years old. Because I was too slow and too fuckin’ deaf to hear him comin’.”

Y/n looked down at the worktable below her, her eyes misting over. It was so easy for Joel to pretend like she hadn’t been there, it almost hurt.

“And I saw…” Joel paused, Henry’s two fatal bullets ringing in his good ear, “I saw a man kill his own brother, to save her, while I just watched.”

Curling her fist against the table, Y/n bit down on her lip until she tasted blood.

“And today, I thought that dog was gonna tear her apart because it smelled somethin’ on her. And all I did was stand there,” Joel’s pace had quickened, “I couldn’t…move. I couldn’t think of anything to say. I just…”

Joel, in that moment, wished for a thousand miles of space between him and Y/n. He wished she remained in Jackson and he was back in Boston.

“I was so afraid,” his voice finally cracked.

Two silent tears danced down Y/n’s cheeks like a sprinkle of rain before a thunderstorm.

“You think I can still handle these things, but…” Joel’s voice regained its strength as he watched Tommy take in what he said, “I’m not who I was. I’m weak.”

With all the force inside her, Y/n still couldn’t bear to look at Joel. She couldn’t handle watching him fall apart.

“Lately, there are these moments where the fear comes up outta nowhere and…” Joel took a quivering breath, well aware he was addressing two people, “My heart…feels like it’s stopped.”

The long overdue explanation didn’t feel like a victory to Y/n, it felt hollow. It was coming at the expense of so much.

“And I have dreams,” Joel went on, “Every night.”

“What kinda dreams?” Tommy asked, it was the first time he’d dared to speak.

“I don’t know,” Joel’s tone became breathless with emotion, “I just know that when I wake up…”

Joel paused, trying to gather the strength he’d lacked twenty years ago.

“I’ve lost something.”

There was no longer any story to tell.

This was Joel’s admission of guilt.

“I’m failin’ in my sleep,” Joel cried, “That’s all I do.”

A river now streamed down Y/n’s face, they were addressing all that had happened between them without actually talking about it.

“It’s all I’ve ever done,” Joel whimpered, the faces of the three most important women in his life flashing through his mind, “Is fail her.”

Y/n’s cheeks were red from holding in her screaming sobs.

“Again and again…” Joel trailed off, feeling the weight of Y/n’s pain without seeing it.

“You want me to take her,” Tommy stated, he knew what was coming before they got there.

Y/n’s eyes finally found the courage to fly to Joel, her lips parting in shock.

“I’m just gonna get her killed,” Joel trembled, the fears he’d had to live with the last three months were beating him into cowering, “I know it. I know it.”

Of all the things he’d said concerning the piece of his heart standing across from him, none had hurt Joel as much as the one floating on his tongue, clutching to his throat…begging not to be released.

“I have to leave her.”

In that moment, Y/n was no longer in the shop. She wasn’t in Jackson. Her knees were sitting in dirt, wind whipping at her shirt, her screams echoing off the triage clinic walls…Joel was abandoning her all over again.

She must have gasped or sniffled, because Tommy turned around to look at her. Joel’s tearful gaze finally came up to meet hers, her heartbroken stare piercing his chest. He knew exactly what he was doing to her, the anger that had died out three months ago filling her eyes once again. Except this time, there was so much sadness behind it, Joel’s tears started up again.

Y/n couldn’t stand to hear another word, her own opinion not mattering in the already-made decision. Desperate for Joel not to witness another one of her tears, she went straight for the door, throwing it open and letting it swing shut behind her.

Her mouth hung open, trying to force the winter air in and out her lungs as her head spun. He was doing it, he was leaving her as if she hadn’t ever meant anything to him.

A crunch of snow under another pair of footprints drew her attention to her left. Ellie was moving so fast away from the door, Y/n barely recognized it as her.

“Ellie,” Y/n called, the girl was marching back through town, “Ellie!”

“So he’s just gonna leave us here?” Ellie asked, her voice raised to compensate for the distance between them.

Y/n couldn’t form an answer, she couldn’t defend Joel’s actions.

“You have to talk him out of it,” Ellie said, bitterness seeping into her tone.

“I can’t,” Y/n said, letting the cold freeze what was left of her tears.

“Yes, you can,” Ellie was sounding more and more like the child she should have been, on the verge of losing something important to her.

“Ellie, I can’t,” Y/n practically shouted, the girl was too fast for her, “I can’t make him do anything, you know that.”

Ellie spun around, her face red from the cold air and her anger. “You have to,” she yelled, “He can’t…” her voice nearly caught, “He can’t fucking do that to us.”

Y/n had concealed so much of her history from Ellie, it wasn’t anything she needed to know. The girl looked at Joel like he was everything, she couldn’t shatter the illusion.

With nothing but tears to give as a reply, Y/n watched Ellie storm back off through the snow. She waited, giving the girl a wide berth before heading in the same direction.

When they got inside, Ellie stomped up the stairs, leaving Y/n standing aimlessly in the middle of the living room. She felt so small, so fragile, it was a vulnerability she hadn’t felt in twenty years that only came with someone owning a part of your heart. It was permission she hadn’t realized she’d given to Joel to break her all over again.

Somehow, quite blearily, Y/n made it up the stairs. She stood in the hallway, her eyes drifting between doors. Two options lay in front of her. She could a) knock on Ellie’s door and try to console her or b) go into her room and sleep off the pain till morning.

Despite the twenty years of independence she’d had, Y/n had never felt like she had full autonomy. She was owned by her past, haunted by the choices that she’d been forced to make and the ones that had been made for her. There was a piece of her mind beating her into submission, counting on the trauma to make her cower from facing the truth.

There was a third option, and she strode towards it without hesitation.

—————————

“You’re right. You’re not my daughter, and I sure as hell ain’t your dad.”

The words struck Ellie like a blow to the chest.

“Now, come dawn,” Joel finished, “We’re goin’ our separate ways.”

He left her there, knowing there were tears pooling in her eyes, knowing she felt abandoned. He knew all of it, and he still slammed the door shut. He was the only one who could see that it truly was the only option where she kept her life.

Joel glanced down the hall, spotting the bathroom, a closet and a closed door, no doubt a bedroom. He didn’t dare go near it, he couldn’t face the demons that lay behind it. Instead, he made his way to the bedroom at the end of the hallway, nudging the door open…

Y/n was sitting on the bed.

Joel froze.

Her elbows rested on her knees, her hands were clasped together. She stared ahead at the carpet, her stare boring into the beige threads with a fire that was intended for the man standing across from her.

Joel had been running from her all day, it seemed like they both had. If Y/n had thought this was her room and had been caught off guard, she’d have jumped, rushing to leave or forcing Joel out. Her stillness told him that this was intentional.

“I want the truth,” Y/n was the first of them to speak, “About that day.”

Joel had made one of the biggest choices in her life for her and it had ruined the last twenty years. If this was the last time she would ever see him, she was taking what she wanted before leaving.

“I need to hear it,” she continued, her voice thick from crying. She finally dragged her gaze up to him, shooting daggers, “I need to hear you say it.”

Joel’s muscles had locked up, every inch of him suddenly running painfully cold. There was no escaping what she wanted to hear, nor did he have to strength to keep it buried any more. The words lay trapped in his chest, rotting between his lungs.

Joel reached behind him and shut the door, not wanting Ellie to hear what was surely to come. He walked towards the bed hesitantly, the first step sending Y/n across the room. Distance was necessary for such an intimate conversation.

Y/n watched him walk, his posture was more drooped than usual. She’d heard Ellie yelling through the walls, no doubt reading him the riot act for his plans. And whatever Joel had responded with was, undoubtably, worse.

Joel took Y/n’s spot on the edge of the bed, sighing to himself and trying gathering his mind. Were they really doing this?

He paused a good long while before beginning his confession.

“After it…” Joel paused, unable to call on the tragedy by name, “After it happened, I couldn’t…see. I-I couldn’t…breathe. Nothin’ made sense any more,” Joel’s eyes were brave enough to look up at Y/n, “Nothin’.”

Y/n kept her arms crossed over her chest, protecting herself the last way she knew how from the ghosts of the past.

Joel clasped his hands in his lap, as if to pray for forgiveness that wasn’t his to have. There was nothing that could soften the blow he was about to strike.

“Somehow, in my mind, when you told me…” Joel referred to another nameless point in time, “What you told me…I knew it was true.”

There it was.

“You’d never lied to me before,” Joel admitted, tears threatening to reveal all his cards, “You wouldn’t’ve chosen then to start.”

He’d known. He’d known the whole time. And he’d still tried to make her feel like a liar.

“I wasn’t thinkin’ straight,” Joel struggled, his chest trembling as he tried to hold himself still, “The pain was just…I couldn’t handle it.”

With Ellie in the room over, Y/n bit down on her lip to stop whatever violent reaction threatened to escape her mouth.

“So instead, you decided to blow up my life,” she said, nodding.

Joel felt breathless, staring into the same weeping eyes he had twenty years ago, watching her fall apart. Except this time, it was controlled. She wouldn’t let herself break until he broke first.

Y/n couldn’t hold back the river in her eyes any longer, the festering resentment building in her like a hurricane.

“Do you have any idea what I went through after you left?!”

The force of her voice startled Joel, but he didn’t flinch. He deserved every bit of her hate, and he would take it all.

Y/n took a rattling breath, the volume of her tone dropping to a hiss, “Do you have any idea what I had to do?”

—————————

October 1st, 2003. St. Louis, Missouri.

By some miracle, Y/n made it home.

After Joel had abandoned her and she’d cried herself nearly into dehydration, she stood up, brushed the dirt off her knees…and walked away. Her apartment complex was near the clinic and she’d snuck back without coming across any army or Infected.

She promptly packed up her backpack, shoving as many dry goods in as she could. She filled water bottles, rolled a change of clothes, a flashlight, a blanket, and a hammer. She didn’t have any intention of hurting anyone, but she was going to be prepared.

The problem was that her car was parked at Joel’s house.

Unhappily, Y/n had snuck into the neighborhood through the trees, the army was still stationed on the highway directly in front of the entrance. When she arrived, cutting through the shared lawn between the Millers and the Adlers, she kept her eyes down. She didn’t think she could handle the sight. She climbed into her car, which was blissfully still there, and started it up.

It took everything in her not to look up at the house, or go inside to say a goodbye.

To avoid the army, she drove her car through the space between the houses, cutting back through the forest and getting onto a side. She couldn’t save Sarah, Joel had left her for dead, but she was determined to find her family.

It had taken a full day of driving, carefully avoiding the army’s various stations, and when her car had run out of gas, two days on foot. But she’d made it, alive and as well as she could be.

Y/n’s parents owned a plot of land that they’d built her childhood home on. The nearest neighbor was a mile away, giving them a decent chance at survival by isolation. Her sister lived five miles away, her brother twenty minutes, but she knew they’d huddle together in such an emergency.

When her weak limbs and weary eyes reached the property, she huffed a tearful breath. The world may have been falling apart around her, but she was home. The sight gave her a new boost of energy and she quickened her steps across the grass.

“Mom,” she called the closer she got, “Dad!”

Y/n hurried up the front porch steps, finding the door slightly ajar. There had never been a moment in their house where the door hadn’t been locked. Her hand hesitated over the knob, afraid of what she might find.

She didn’t really have a choice.

Y/n cautiously stepped inside, “Mom! Dad!”

Her voice bounced off the hallway, echoing into the house. There was no answer.

“Annie,” she called for her sister, then her brother, “Jason!”

She walked down the hallway, finding the tables and knicknacks that decorated it to be as meticulously straightened as ever. It all looked normal.

“Guys,” Y/n shouted, growing more anxious, “It’s me!”

Through the hall was the kitchen, the counters were covered in dry good wrappers and bags. Clearly they were here, the power had been cut and that would have been their only option for food.

Y/n’s breaths grew quicker, “Guys!”

There was a clatter from upstairs, Y/n spun around to face the staircase. Her worst fear was that someone had broken in, killed her family and was stealing any valuables they could. It was a miracle her apartment had been intact.

Another large thud, followed by a low growl.

She wasn’t even thinking about the other possibility.

A humanistic screech sounded through the house before a blurry body threw itself down the stairs, launching itself towards Y/n.

It was her father.

“Dad!”

As her father’s hand swung at her, she swerved out of the way, the rush of air brushing her face. She stumbled backwards into the living room, blidnly reaching for the edges of furniture to topple in her dad’s path. Undeterred, growling and snarling at his own daughter, he climbed over them effortlessly.

“Dad,” Y/n yelled with tears in her eyes, “Daddy, stop! It’s me!

A snarl and another swipe was all she received.

Until the second growl came.

From the other side of the stairs, Y/n’s mother emerged with the same possessed look in her eye as her husband.

“Mama,” Y/n cried, “It’s me! Stop!”

Her mother ran down the hall, her steps wide and clunky. Y/n’s father was heading towards her too, his movements slower than his wife’s.

There was no time to think her decision over.

Y/n reached for her grandmother’s vase, sitting on the end table by the front door and swung it around, smashing it into her mother’s head.

Her mother let out a scream, one of anger rather than pain, and stumbled back a few steps. Y/n shoved the end table at her father, ramming it into his stomach and causing him to drop to the floor. It gave her time to cut across into the home office, sliding under her mother’s arm as it reached for her.

“Mama,” Y/n cried, her tears were long past restraint, “Mama, it’s me…please.”

Her mother stalked forward, too far gone to recognize her daughter.

“Mama,” Y/n pleaded, “Please don’t!”

Y/n was out of time and out of options.

It was either take action or become one of them.

Y/n yanked the hammer out of the open slit in her backpack and slammed it into the side of her mother’s head.

The woman dropped the floor.

Y/n could barely register what she’d done before her father’s growls neared. She looked up to see him, quickly encroaching on her. She waited until her was close enough before jumping to the side, letting him slam into his bookcase and bludgeoning him with the hammer.

Y/n bolted out the glass doors, sprinting towards the stairs and screaming for her siblings, “Jason! Annie!”

More growling came from one of their childhood bedrooms.

Acting purely on adrenaline, Y/n bolted in the opposite direction of the sound, heading for the master bedroom. She ran for the closet, clearing the top shelf of her father’s side to reach his fireproof safe. Her fingers trembled as she punched in the code, the growling getting closer to the room.

The safe door opened, offering her her father’s hand gun as a blood soaked salvation.

A sickeningly shriek filled the bedroom, the lean body of Jason entering and sniffing Y/n out like a hunter would its prey.

Y/n couldn’t afford to think, but she felt the full weight of her decision as she took off the safety and landed a bullet in her big brother’s head.

She stood over his lifeless body, her breath caught somewhere between her heart and her lungs. From behind her, there was more manic growling.

Y/n spun around to find not only her sister, racing towards her, but her parents dragging themselves up the last steps on the staircase.

“No,” she whispered, “No, Annie, stop. Please!”

Her sister screamed, her eyes completely blackened and her nostrils flared in blind rage.

Y/n fired a shot with a shaking hand, causing the the bullet to hit a decorative plate on the wall, ricocheting back across the room and hitting her in the shoulder.

She couldn’t feel the pain.

She couldn’t feel anything.

Because the next three shots she didn’t miss.

When it was over, Y/n couldn’t move. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t breathe. All she could do was stare at the destruction she’d caused. And in her numbness, she didn’t hear the small footsteps, the heaving breaths coming for her…

Her little nephew, Matty, let out a vicious cry as he lunged for his aunt.

“Matty!” Y/n cried, the boy clinging to her leg and unhinging his jaw, “No!”

Y/n reached down, prying him off her leg and holding him in the air, his little legs flailing and his hands clawing for Y/n’s throat.

“Matty, stop,” Y/n screamed through her tears, her pain rising to match the demonic one of her nephew.

She threw him down on the bed and bolted for the stairs, the gun still in her palm. She knew that the next thirty seconds would decide who she would be in this new world, and whether her soul would retire to heaven or hell.

Her nephew flew down the stairs after her.

Y/n stumbled on the last step, landing on her knees and sliding across the blood slicked hardwood.

Matty shrieked.

Y/n raised her gun.

—————————

December 2023. Jackson, Wyoming.

The soft glow of the lamplight couldn’t help the darkness that filled the bedroom.

Joel’s lips were parted, in horror and in sorrow.

The entire expanse of Y/n’s cheeks were painted with her tears. Not a day had gone by since her tragic homecoming where she wasn’t haunted by her decisions. But the last three months, particularly after Henry and Sam’s tragic endings, it lived at the forefront of her mind again.

“I needed you there,” Y/n whispered angrily, incapable of making any louder a sound, “I needed you there to…”

To save her? To commit the atrocious sin for her? To hold her afterwards and tell her she was still a good person?

“You left me there,” Y/n whimpered, “To die.”

Joel felt the weight of the words, each one slicing through his heart the way he deserved. He deserved so much more.

The worst part, was that in all of Y/n’s twenty years she’d spent wanting to hurt Joel, with the opportunity in front of her, she couldn’t…because she understood. She understood what grief that powerful could do to a person. When she had made the choice to end her family’s lives, she lost herself. She couldn’t make sense of a single part of her mind, her heart, what was left of her soul…and twenty years later, Joel’s delusions were perfectly clear to her.

Despite all her efforts, she couldn’t hate his decision. Only the ramifications.

Joel felt like his entire body was made of led, unable to move so much as a finger. Only his eyes seemed to work properly as they rolled tears down his cheeks.

He had abandoned her in a state of unawareness and had doomed her to a life as broken as his. He had condemned her soul the minute he’d walked away from her. The reason for all her pain was him.

The emotions balled inside Y/n, gathering more and more pressure until she couldn’t hold it in any longer. Screw understanding, she had to get it all out.

“She chose me, Joel,” Y/n cried, “She fucking chose me! And you fucking stole that from me,” she pointed at him, “You tried to take her memory away from me like it was nothing. Why the fuck did you do that?!”

“Because,” Joel’s body shot up off the bed, turning to face Y/n, his voice possessed a strength that only came in desparate sadness, “We were so close! We were so damn close,” he drew a shaking breath and ran his hand through his hair.

Y/n stood as still as she could, nearly relieved that Joel was finally being honest with her, but heartbroken all the same.

Joel had kept so many secrets over the years, from Tess, from Tommy…it was the nature of survival. Keeping your cards close to your chest. But he couldn’t take the physical pain, the sick feeling in his stomach, that came with hiding one in particular.

He lowered his voice, his own pain softening the edges of his tone. “Did you know I was gonna buy you a ring? That weekend?” Joel asked, feeling stupid for posing it as question, “‘Course you didn’t. That’s why I was workin’ all those extra shifts,” he pointed a finger in the distance between them, “I was goin’ to get it the next morning…”

That was it. There was no more pain for either of them to feel. This was the great, whopping, life-stealing heartbreak that would steal the last of them.

“We were so close,” Joel whispered, his lip quivering as he bit back his sobs, “And we lost it all. And I couldn’t handle it…” his voice cracked with his final admission, “And there hasn’t been a day on this godforsaken planet that I haven’t regretted it.”

There was ten feet and two decades of space between them, but their minds were back in Austin on that last night, before tragedy struck. The glow of the TV flickered across their eyes, the soft sounds of Sarah’s breaths against Joel’s legs filled their ears, the phantom weight of Y/n’s head on Joel’s shoulder nudged him. It was the start of the future they were never meant to have.

Y/n stopped any attempt to slow her tears, instead allowing soft sniffles to escape her. She pressed a hand to one side of her face, digging her palm into her cheek. Sarah had chosen her as her mother, Joel had chosen her as his wife. They had been on the verge of…everything she’d ever wanted for them.

Joel watched her process his confession, still tied to her soul enough to feel the pain wash over her as if it was his own, because it was. He had felt the gaping hole of her at his side for two decades, knowing he was the one who caused the vacancy. Regardless of whether he ever saw Y/n again, he would carry that scar for the rest of his miserable life…

Y/n fought to draw a breath deep enough to keep her from losing consciousness. She met Joel’s eyes, wet and bloodshot and with all the strength she could summon.

“We did lose everything,” she agreed, the pressure of the lump in her throat forcing the words out of her, “But we didn’t have to lose each other.”

In the three months they’d worked together, risking their lives for Ellie and each other, they’d fought any and all feelings towards one another that didn’t pair well with Joel’s dishonesty or Y/n’s fury. They’d raged just as hard against their past as they had the violence of those against them. And now, with the truth exposed and nowhere left to hide…they felt it all.

Three months spent carefully considering every move they made towards one another, every word thought over with such consideration…they’d been so committed to keeping up their great divide.

There was nothing left to fight.

Only to feel.

Beautifully in sync with one another, Joel and Y/n surged towards one another, colliding in a kiss that could have stretched twenty years and back.

Joel’s arms wrapped around Y/n’s body, one around her waist and one sliding around her back, anchoring her to him. There was a duality to the way he held her; unbridled passion pressing his fingers deep into her skin, his pained adoration reining in the intensity of the touch, as if he was holding fine china. He practically melted as his hands roamed her, letting the full force of his feelings overwhelm him.

Y/n’s body trembled against Joel, her hands holding his wet cheeks as their lips frantically moved together, clashing and submitting to one another so perfectly. When close became not close enough, she wrapped her arms around Joel’s neck, leaving no space between them. She wept into their kiss, euphoria putting every inch of her at ease. She could feel nothing but him and him alone.

As their touches intensified, their lips digging for more and more of each other, Joel maneuvered them backwards. He blindly guided them until Y/n’s knees hit the edge of the bed, the two of them falling back onto it, never breaking from one another.

They spent their night falling apart and putting each other back together. Twenty years and three months of yearning was spilled out into the darkness of the early morning hours, both Joel and Y/n pouring all the love they’d ever felt for one another into each kiss.

—————————

Y/n’s eyes fluttered open, the clouded sunlight waking her up before anyone could knock on her door.

She could feel the absence of Joel without reaching across the sheets.

Sinking her teeth into her kiss-swollen lip, she shut her eyes and drew a slow breath. The night was never going to change either of their plans, it had been a funeral for all they’d never mourned. Neither of them could have afforded for it to be anything else.

It was a comfortable numbness to settle back into, longing for Joel against the reality of their world.

Y/n dressed in the new clothes Maria had left for her in her room, returning to Joel’s bedroom only to make the bed. It was the least she could do.

While she was tucking the quilt in, a knock on the door drew her focus. It was Tommy. Despite the years of separation, they could still read each other like the siblings they’d almost been. Tommy’s sad eyes registered Y/n’s unusually quiet demeanor and he knew that she was feeling the loss of his brother timelessly, just as she would have in 2003.

“Ellie up?” Y/n asked, finishing up with the blanket.

“I think,” Tommy replied, “Haven’t checked on her yet.”

Y/n settled the pillows back under the headboard, smoothing down a crumbled edge of the quilt and stood up straight. She was making the rest of the journey without Joel, but she was still going to hold her head high.

“Gimme a minute with her,” Y/n said, squeezing past Tommy in the doorway, determined not to look back at the room. She crossed the hall to Ellie’s door, gently knocking.

“Come in.”

The second Y/n walked in the room, she knew that Ellie had been expecting Joel in a new state of mind. There was barely concealed disappointment in the young girl’s eyes. Y/n smoothed her hands over her jeans and came to sit next to her in the bay window. Before they took one more step in their journey together, Y/n needed to make something clear.

“I know you didn’t sign up for any of this,” she began, “I know it’s been hard. You’ve seen things that no one should ever see, let alone someone your age,” Y/n paused, this was as honest as she’d ever been with Ellie, “And I know you’ve lost…so much.”

Ellie’s eyes shifted in Y/n’s direction before darting back forward.

“And it’s okay, you don’t have to tell me any of it,” Y/n carefully reached out and placed her hand over Ellie’s, “But I’m not walking out on you.”

Ellie looked up finally, watching the words fall off of Y/n’s lips.

“I’m with you until you tell me to stop,” Y/n continued, giving a small smile, “Even then...”

The side of Ellie’s mouth barely quirked upwards, that was enough for Y/n to know she had taken the words to heart. Since the beginning of their journey, it had been her and Ellie above all else.

Tommy knocked on the door, poking his head in. “Ready?”

Y/n looked to Ellie to decide, waiting until the girl stood to rise with her. Tommy handed Y/n her backpack which she promptly slung over her shoulders. She was thankful, at least, that Tommy was finishing out the rest of the trip with them.

The three of them filed out of the house, it had snowed heavier at some point in the night, creating an even thicker blanket.

“Stables,” Tommy said, beginning to guide them in the direction.

“Hang on,” Y/n said, cutting across the street in a move that surprised herself, “I’ll be right back.”

She climbed the steps to Tommy’s house, opening the unlocked door and entering. She bypassed the living room entirely, making her way through until she found the kitchen, where Maria was seated with a cup of coffee.

Maria’s fingers traced the handle of the mug, staring down at the liquid, “Are you here to tell me my husband will be fine and I shouldn’t worry?”

“No,” Y/n shook her head, “I mean, he will be, but…no. I came to say thank you.”

Maria dragged her gaze up to Y/n, she’d given enough to warrant wondering what exactly she was being thanked for.

“For…” Y/n exhaled, dancing carefully around the memory of the woman holding her as she wept, “For-“

Maria held up a knowing hand, her voice gaining a softer edge, “You’re welcome.”

Y/n hesitantly smiled, the woman had allowed her to grieve in a way nobody else ever had. A simple thanks seemed too simple, but it was all she had to offer. She turned on her heel to leave and let her have her morning.

“Hang on,” Maria called her back, rising from the table and heading down the hall. She returned with Y/n’s rifle and handgun, extending them out to their rightful owner. As Y/n reached for them, she pulled them back.

“You make sure my baby has a father,” Maria demanded, her eyes pleading with Y/n.

“With my life,” Y/n promised, it was one of the truest things she’d ever said.

Maria handed her the weapons, watching Y/n sling the rifle over her back and holster the handgun. She would never trust her brother-in-law, but she wanted to trust the sister-in-law she could have had.

Y/n exited the house, making her way back to Tommy and Ellie as quick as she could without slipping. Upon seeing the returned firearms, Ellie held up her own pistol, somehow mysteriously returned to her. One look to Tommy’s averted gaze told Y/n all she needed to know.

The three of them strode past the animal pens and into the stables, the same melancholy cloud hanging over them. Y/n was ready to take her night spent with the man she loved and tuck it away in her mind as nothing more than a beautiful moment in time.

When she turned towards one of the stalls, she hadn’t expected to see him standing in front of her.

Joel had made a lot of mistakes in his life, a lot. Most of them spanning over the last two decades, but many had come before. The one that kept him up at night, the one he saw in his dreams, the one that would haunt him every hour of every day would forever be leaving Y/n. Not just because he’d lost the love of his life, but because he’d made the decision for her. He’d played with her life in a way that made her still standing and breathing a damn miracle. Somewhere between leaving the warmth of her body in bed and saddling his horse, he’d realized he couldn’t take that away from her or Ellie.

“You came here to say goodbye or something?” Ellie asked.

“No,” Joel replied, still fiddling with one of the saddle straps, “I came here to steal one of these horses and go.”

“I woulda gave you one,” Tommy said.

“I know,” Joel turned to them, addressing everyone but Y/n, “Anyway…that was thirty minutes ago and I guess…” he stepped forward, finally letting his eyes fall on the woman before Ellie, “You deserve a choice.”

Everything at war inside Y/n settled at Joel’s words.

“I still think you’d be better off with Tommy-“ Joel began.

Ellie had heard enough, shoving the bag of food Tommy had packed them into Joel’s chest, “Let’s go,” she looked back to Y/n as she moved towards the horse, “Say yes.”

Y/n nearly smiled at Ellie’s bossiness, her and Joel’s eyes meeting softly. She hadn’t expected him there, but the change in heart, in the way he was handling the situation was even more unexpected and more welcome. She gave a reserved nod, allowing her cheeks to tug her lips upwards.

Joel could never go make up for what he’d done to Y/n. But whatever time they had left together was going to be spent trying.

Y/n turned to Tommy, “We’re gonna need another horse.”

Tommy nodded, unlatching another stall’s lock, leading one of the horses out and handing the reins to Y/n. “Maybe don’t tell Maria about this…” he smirked.

Y/n nodded, “Gotcha.”

The four of them exited the stables and finished readying the horses. Joel and Y/n both helped Ellie onto the one Joel would ride.

“Hold onto both,” Joel instructed, handing Ellie the reins.

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie nodded, her mood had already perked up.

Y/n and Joel came to Tommy, the three of them standing in a triangle. It was the first moment the three of them had shared since the night before.

“General direction?” Joel asked.

“Head southeast till you hit I-25,” Tommy answered, “It’s right off the interstate, shouldn’t be hard to miss.”

There was a brief pause before Tommy spoke up again, “Promise me y’all are gonna stick together.”

Joel gazed over at Y/n, feeling the history between each of Tommy’s words. Under the cover of night, it would have cut right through him. Now, it was a guarantee he could give both of them.

“I promise,” Joel said, his eyes never leaving Y/n’s. It was the first time she’d smiled at him in a long time, and he felt a new surge of strength through him.

Tommy pulled Joel in first, embracing him with a prayer that this wouldn’t be the last time he laid eyes on his brother. He tugged Y/n into his chest after, wishing the same. He couldn’t regain them only to lose them.

Y/n relaxed in Tommy’s arms, wishing they could stay in the safety of Jackson just a little longer. Twenty years of struggle, a little relief, and then back out into the jaw of danger.

“There’s a place for you here,” Tommy said, keeping a hand on Y/n’s shoulder and looking to Joel, “All of you.”

“Countin’ on it,” Joel said, earning a l eyebrow raise from Y/n. He didn’t feel like explaining his answer any further.

Joel glanced at Tommy’s rifle hitched to his shoulder, “Could I borrow that?”

“Yeah,” Tommy reached for the gun.

“”Cause Maria took mine, you know?” Joel added.

Tommy smiled, “I already said yes, Joel.”

Y/n chuckled, she hadn’t missed Joel scanning the firearms on her person.

“Adios, big brother,” Tommy said, taking one last long look at Joel.

Reluctantly, Y/n and Joel rounded their horses. As Y/n slipped one foot into her stir-up and prepared to swing her leg over, two familiar hands fell on her hips, helping to lift her. When she looked down, Joel was standing below her, his eyes tracing the curve of her calf he was holding. Y/n’s skin tingled under his touch.

They weren’t going to analyze it to death, but things had changed.

Joel saddled his own horse, Ellie wrapping her arms around his body, and the three of them rode through town. Tommy followed them to the gate, a few of the residents opening it up for them. With a final shared look between the three of them, Joel and Y/n led their horses out of Jackson’s borders, parting with Tommy.

Y/n’s chest tightened as soon as the gates slammed shut, they’d had a few wonderful hours of sanctuary. Back in the throes of losing their lives, she wanted to run back.

Joel could sense her anxiety, it was so similar to how he was feeling. If the stakes weren’t so high, he would have never left. He took one foot out of his stirrups and nudged Y/n’s boot with his, dragging her eyes to him. He gave a small nod to let her know he was there, for the first time in twenty years, he was with her in any and all ways she needed him.

—————————

It took them a solid day of travel, with sneaky glances and reserved smiles, for Joel and Y/n to start talking.

Closer to sunset, Joel decided to cave and teach Ellie how to shoot with the rifle. She’d practically fallen off the horse in her rush to get on the ground.

“Wide right,” Joel instructed, after Ellie had missed her fourth shot, “You’re flinchin’.”

“The target’s too small,” she complained.

Y/n watched them from beside her horse, sneaking in a quick bite of food. Ellie and Joel were on their knees with the rifle resting on a log. Their closeness and the way Joel was guiding her through her shots wasn’t lost on Y/n and for the first time, she didn’t think it was lost on Joel either.

“I made it bigger than I should’ve,” he told Ellie, “Eject the cartridge.”

Ellie did as she was told, “And I am not flinching.”

“Mm-hmm,” Joel humored her.

“The rifle just sucks.”

“Okay, give it,” Joel said, reaching for the gun.

Ellie gladly handed it over and switched spots with him, “It doesn’t aim right.”

“Mm-hmm,” Joel adjusted his position.

“You’ll see,” Ellie insisted.

Y/n dusted the crumbs off her hands and came to watch, “How can you tell it’s busted if you’ve used it?”

Ellie gestured to the target Joel and Y/n had made her, “‘Cause I should’ve been able to fucking hit that!”

“Ah,” Y/n smiled, “So you’re just that good? Never touched a rifle in your life, but you’ve got the raw talent.”

Ellie flipped Y/n off, settling in beside Joel with a pair of binoculars to spot the target. Y/n moved to stand a few inches away from Joel.

“A deep breath in, slow breath out,” Joel recited, he was ultra aware of Y/n’s presence beside him, “You squeeze the trigger like you love it. Gentle…steady…” he purposefully paused, unable to help himself, “Nice and slow.”

An involuntary heat creeped up Y/n’s neck and landed in her cheeks.

“You gonna shoot this thing or get it pregnant?” Ellie smirked.

When Joel glared up at Ellie and stopped to see Y/n’s reaction after, she kept her eyes dead ahead on the target. The small smile gracing her lips told Joel enough.

“It isn’t gonna work,” Ellie insisted, looking through the lenses of the binoculars, “It doesn’t aim right.”

Joel took a flawless shot, the bullet cutting through the middle of their target.

Ellie’s jaw dropped, “You dick.”

Proud of himself, Joel casually shrugged it off.

“Okay, okay,” Y/n nudged Joel’s leg with her foot, “Now that the amateurs have had their turn…”

Joel let go of the gun and scooted to the side, allowing Y/n the space to kneel down against the log. Even under the circumstances, teaching a fourteen year old how to defend herself in the worst case scenario, with the wind brushing through her air and her brow knit in concentration, Joel couldn’t help but admire Y/n’s beauty.

They had yet to talk about what had happened between them on their last night in Jackson. He didn’t know where they stood, what she was feeling, or the smartest way to go about finding out. Coming back to her and Ellie had been pure emotion. It wasn’t just that he didn’t want to leave them, he couldn’t.

“Hang on,” Joel held up a hand before Y/n took a shot, moving in closer to her, “Posture’s wrong.”

“My posture’s fine,” Y/n said plainly.

Joel decided to test the waters, stretching an arm out around Y/n’s body and sliding his trigger finger over his. His other hand reached forward to envelop hers against the body of the rifle.

Y/n tried to conceal her smirk as Joel wrapped himself around her, her skin felt like it was buzzing and crackling under the pressure of his body.

“Eighth of an inch could be the difference between life and death,” Joel defended his actions, his lips nearly brushing Y/n’s ear.

“Mmm,” Y/n hummed, sucking on her bottom lip and trying to pull it straight.

Carefully, Joel rotated her body a barely imperceptible amount. Through his gloves, he could feel the way Y/n’s pulse sped up under his touch and decided he’d made the right call.

“You gotta think through every move,” Joel said, the depth of his voice rumbling against Y/n’s back, “Don’t rush through it.”

Y/n lined her eye up with the viewfinder, deciding to join in on Joel’s game. “There’s not always enough time. Sometimes you gotta be fast,” she paused, “And firm.”

Joel felt his own heart rate pick up, the adrenaline of their banter sending him back to the night before. But Y/n still hadn’t succeeded in catching him off guard.

“Nobody’s shootin’ back,” Joel said, readjusting his grip on her hands, “You can take your time.”

Attempting to take a steady breath, Y/n fired her shot, the bullet lodging itself a millimeter apart from Joel’s.

Y/n pulled away from the viewfinder, turning her head towards Joel only to find him waiting for her.

“I think I could’ve done that on my own,” she purred.

Joel’s eyes were locked on her lips, nearly admitting defeat and giving into the tension they’d created. “Guess we’ll never know,” he replied huskily.

“Nice and slow, huh?” Ellie interrupted the moment, smirking at them, “Fuckin’ disgusting.”

Y/n smiled as Joel’s head dropped a little, sliding the gun back into his hands and getting to her feet.

“Come on, Cowgirl Jane,” she pulled on Ellie’s shoulders, steering the girl back to the horses, “Saddle up.”

Joel watched the two of them walk back to the horses, his eyes focusing on Y/n’s silhouette as she tugged Ellie’s body into hers. For months, all he could think of was what could have been, what almost had been. He’d never stopped to think that he had something so similar to what he’d lost in front of him the whole time.

—————————

They camped for the night under a rock formation, similar to the one they’d slept at the night before making it to Jackson. Ellie was tired enough to call it a night earlier than usual, leaving Joel and Y/n to themselves…for the first time since their conversation.

They sat across the fire from one another, unable to tear their gazes away for more than maybe five seconds. It had been like that all day, they couldn’t keep their eyes off one another. If a stranger took one look at them, they would never guess they’d been running from each other just 24 hours prior.

“You warm enough?” Joel asked, scanning the layers she had on.

“Mm-hmm,” Y/n nodded, heating her hands by the fire.

Joel settled back against his rock, watching the light of the flames dance across her face. It was the same shade of orange as the bedroom lamp had been.

“It’s rude to stare, Miller,” Y/n remarked, feeling the heat of his deep brown eyes on her.

“‘M not starin’,” Joel replied, a lovestruck smile pulling at his mouth.

“Really?” Y/n chortled, finally meeting his gaze, “Then what’re you doin’?”

It had been three months of avoiding looking at her too long, Joel wanted to take his time and admire every inch of her face for as long as she deserved to be admired, “Somethin’ else.”

Y/n felt the blood rush to her cheeks again, Joel could wield sentiment just as expertly as a gun. It was so tempting to just watch him watch her all night.

But they had to face the music at some point.

“Listen,” Joel started, his gaze darting to his hands in his lap, “About last night…”

“Yeah…” Y/n nodded, hugging one of her knees to her chest.

“I, uh…” Joel looked earnestly back up at her, “I didn’t plan that or anything.”

Y/n nearly laughed, “I didn’t think you did. And for the record, that’s not why I was in your room.”

Joel nodded, never in a million years could either of them have guessed how the night would have ended.

“Do you…” he paused, fearing the answer he knew he might get, “Regret it?”

Y/n knew she was well within her rights to resent Joel, in one way or another. But the thing was, she was tired of holding a grudge against him, of pretending like he wasn’t still engrained in her soul. What happened between them had been unexpected, unplanned and…beautiful.

“Y’know,” Y/n began, “I really tried to hate you at the beginning of all this. I mean, there was a part of me that definitely did but…I never could’ve made good on any of those promises to kill you…” she inhaled, “I’ve spent twenty years just…wanting to scream every time I thought about you. And then at some point, one of the many times I ran that day back in my mind…I understood. Why you did it.”

Joel’s amusement was sucked right out of him, a somber expression capturing his face again.

“It made sense,” Y/n nodded, watching the fire instead of Joel, “‘Cause after I…” she stopped short of the horrific memory, “After I did what I did…I broke. I mean, I shattered on the floor and I never found all the pieces…

“You’re still you,” Joel interjected, unable to help himself.

“Joel…” Y/n smiled sadly at him, “I’m not the same. Neither are you. I don’t think you can go through something like what we went through and not come out different…,” Y/n sighed, “And it’s not fair of me to keep blaming you for what I did after you left.”

The last thing Joel was going to let her do was try and make him feel better about what he’d done to her, “Y/n, I-“

“No,” Y/n readjusted herself against the rock, “Stop. I can be upset you left me, I can be sad about it…but I can’t blame you for the choices I made. They were mine to make and…” she sniffled, “I have to live with them.”

“So, no…” Y/n sighed, “I don’t regret it. Any of it.”

Joel shifted, so unsettled by how the air was shifting. He couldn’t handle the way Y/n was treating him. It wasn’t what he deserved.

“Just…please hate me,” he asked of her, his throat forming a lump, “In some way, just…just a little.”

Y/n knew what self-loathing looked like, she practiced it every minute of every day. She’d never felt something stronger than the way she despised herself, and she didn’t want Joel to drown in the same whirlpool.

Picking herself off the ground, she walked around the fire, nudging Joel’s legs flat against the dirt. She lowered herself onto his lap, rendering him still and speechless.

Joel’s breath caught in his chest as Y/n sat atop him, her gaze travelling across his face and her hand coming up to cup his cheek. He nearly flinched at the softness of her touch, here he was begging for her vitriol, and she was bathing him in honey.

“We don’t always get what we want, Joel,” she whispered, her words crossing the small, small distance between them.

Joel could do nothing but tremble at the sentiment, underlying feelings rising to the sentence’s surface and embracing him. None of it was fair, what he’d put her through, what she’d gone through after, and what had put them there in the first place. He knew he didn’t deserve Y/n anymore, if he ever had, but…he wanted to be selfish. He wanted to love her again with the full force that came with twenty years of missing a person.

It all came down to whether or not he would let himself.

And the way her fingers grazed his cheek and her tender gaze flipped his stomach practically threw him into her arms.

Joel leaned forward, pressing his lips to Y/n’s in a passionate, yet slow kiss. She caught his face in her palms, allowing him to drag her closer till their chests were pressed together. It hadn’t taken long for their bodies to remember the feel of one another. Joel inhaled deeply, breathing Y/n in like she was his life support, and she was. He would forever live and die by her.

When they broke, muscle memory brought their foreheads together. The crackling of the fire and their quickened breaths were the soundtrack to their intimate moment. Y/n couldn’t help the tears welling in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Joel’s hands sliding up her back, one coming to cup the back of her neck.

Y/n shook her head, biting back a smile as her eyes travelled Joel’s face. “I just never thought I’d see you again…” she whispered, her thumb gliding over Joel’s beard.

Joel turned into her palm, pressing apologetic kisses to the skin. The same thought had echoed through his mind for two decades.

“You still gotta give me hell,” he said in between kisses, “Make me pay for what I put you through.”

Y/n smiled, her skin tingling at his touch, “Stop.”

Joel’s lips travelled to her wrist, “Fire a warnin’ shot every once in a while, just to keep me on my toes.”

“Shut up,” Y/n laughed softly, pulling his chin up to gain access to his lips.

Under the midnight Wyoming sky, they let themselves fall for each other all over again. It would never be exactly as it had been, they were different people, but the core flame remained the same. Joel and Y/n had travelled for twenty years only to find their way back to one another. In every kiss, every touch, there was forgiveness. There was redemption. Above all, there was love that nothing, not even Cordyceps could lay waste to.

When their kisses began to slow, exhaustion hitting them both, Joel pulled back. “Get some sleep,” he brushed a strand of hair from Y/n’s face, “I got first watch.”

“You don’t fucking wake me up,” Y/n smiled, “Ever.”

“No, I don’t,” Joel ran his hands slowly up and down her back. He had a hard time dragging her from peace to the cold reality they spent their waking hours in.

Y/n rolled her eyes and rolled off of Joel’s lap, crossing the fire to retrieve her sleeping bag. Joel watched her every move in daze, fully consumed by his love for her once again.

She dropped her bag at Joel’s side, pointing to him decisively before sliding in, “Wake me up.”

“Okay,” Joel smiled, humoring her. They both knew he wouldn’t.

Y/n settled in next to him, resting one hand on his thigh. She knew they were too vulnerable to ask him to lay next to her, but she needed some piece of him to fall asleep.

Joel sat there, holding his rifle for the first time with a smile on his face. He had ended up right where he’d tried so hard not to be, exposed by his instinctual need to love someone. He glanced down at Y/n and further away at Ellie. He couldn’t say that he regretted falling captive to either of them.

—————————

The next few days went by in a blur of snow-coated landscapes and trees that all looked identical.

Perhaps the most beautiful part of Joel and Y/n’s reunion was the freedom it allowed them. They didn’t have to hide any more behind their shields, they didn’t have to try and find fault in each other. They were unshackled from their grudge and it didn’t just serve them.

“So the way they ran stuff in Jackson,” Ellie asked on their second day of travel, “Was that how things used to be?”

“No,” Joel answered as he guided their horse, “The country was too big for that. Back then, there were basically two main ways of lookin’ at things. Some people wanted to own everything. And some people didn’t want anyone to own anything at all.”

“Most people didn’t even care about the actual issues,” Y/n added, remembering sitting through mind-numbing debates amongst friends at dinner parties or candidates on a tv screen, “They just wanted to argue.”

“So which one were you guys?” Ellie asked.

“Neither,” Joel answered for both him and Y/n, “We just did our jobs.”

“Which was…” Ellie tried to recall the details they’d told them earlier, “Building?”

“That’s right. Houses, stores, that kind of thing. We were called contractors,” Joel replied, nodding to Y/n, “She used to sell me all my supplies.”

“Oh,” Ellie smirked and pumped an eyebrow at Y/n, “That makes sense…you hooked him up.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “You live in the fucking gutter, child.”

Ellie snickered, before lowering her voice, “‘The Contractor.’ That’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah, we were cool,” Joel breathed, deciding rewriting an insignificant piece of history wouldn’t stunt Ellie’s growth, “Everybody loved contractors.”

Y/n nearly snorted, turning her face so Joel could maintain his reputation in Ellie’s eyes but earned a light kick from him to the shin. When she looked back, Ellie was resting her face against Joel’s back and Joel was beaming. The lover’s eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them that this was the happiest either of them had been since…

Y/n thought to the plastic butterfly that had survived the last three months in her backpack. Joel still didn’t know it was there.

Each night that they camped, Y/n drifted a little closer to Joel until the second after they’d start their fire, she’d settle right into his arms. Ellie continually took the piss out of them, making a suggestive remark or serenading them with an off-key rendition of an old ballad. Y/n would laugh and throw something at her, Joel would watch them both and try to conceal just how much they were bringing him back to life.

When Joel would stand watch, Y/n would be right by his side, unable to be apart from him even in sleep. On the nights where he’d let her take the second shift, desperate for a moment’s rest, he’d lay his head on her leg. Twenty years of separation were driving them together with a force neither of them could fight.

Each day, Joel and Y/n explained a little more about their lives or how the world had worked to Ellie. She absorbed it all as best she could, but it was naturally difficult to imagine a world different than the only one she’d known.

“Okay, so if you mess up your fourth down,” Ellie recited what Joel had explained to her, “Then you give the ball to the other team?”

“Right,” Joel confirmed, “It’s called a turnover.”

“Turnover,” Ellie tested out the word, “But if you make it to ten yards, then you’re back to first down?”

“Yep,” Joel nodded.

“So, basically just moving in one direction.”

“Basically,” Joel replied, “But violent.”

“Oh, well,” Ellie nodded, “There’s that.”

Y/n guided her horse alongside them, “Do you remember that Cowboys game we went to?”

It was the first time either of them had brought up one of the lighter periods of their past. “Tommy’s birthday?” Joel recalled, “Yeah, they barely pulled through.”

“We made it up on the big screen,” Y/n remembered, a smile coming to her face.

“And Tommy was so fuckin’ wasted, he started dancin’,” Joel continued the memory.

Y/n grinned, “We had to pour him into the car, let him sleep it off on the couch.”

Joel chortled under his breath, for the first time feeling like he could look back on the happier parts of his life without feeling guilt. Y/n represented both the best and worst times he’d gone through, the hope and the fall of all his dreams. The light she was bringing back into his space was illuminating all their history, and they couldn’t sustain themselves anymore on grief.

He wrapped the reins around one fist and reached over to Y/n’s horse, pulling her hand into his. She looked across to him, smiling warmly and tightening her fingers around his.

Ellie groaned, making a convincing gag sound.

“Would you rather us try and kill each other all day?” Y/n asked as Joel scoffed.

“That was easier to stomach,” Ellie remarked, though it didn’t really bother her all that much. She liked Joel and Y/n getting along.

They came up on the I-25, just as Tommy had directed them. The city’s outline acted as a homing beacon.

“Well, how ‘bout that?” Joel said, “Made it in five days.”

“Easy days,” Ellie added, “I don’t know what Tommy was so afraid of.”

“Still time to find out,” Joel commented, he was happy, but he couldn’t be delusional.

Ellie lowered her voice and threw on a bad Southern drawl, “‘Still time to find out.’”

Joel glared back at her before she switched to a strained, creepy whisper, “‘The Contractorrrr.’”

Y/n and Ellie shared a laugh, Joel rolled his eyes and dropped Y/n’s hand, causing them to laugh harder. The sound warmed his chest.

They rode another hour before making it to the outskirts of the university.

“Wow,” Y/n muttered, taking in the corroded architecture.

“I know,” Joel agreed, having not stepped foot on a campus since tours in his junior year of high school, “Been a while.”

“‘Home of the Big Horns,’” Ellie read off the sign, “What does that mean?”

“Team mascot,” Joel explained, “It’s a kind of sheep.”

“Oh, see?” Ellie said, “One step closer to your dream. Don’t see any Fireflies though.”

“They’re gonna be further in,” Y/n said, nudging her horse forward to lead them. It had been three months since she’d actually thought of herself as a Firefly. Being with Joel, taking care of Ellie had made her feel like her old self. To put on her other identity felt…unnatural.

They rode through the dormitory section of campus, of all the abandoned buildings she’d seen over the years, Y/n was sure this was the strangest.

“So these places,” Ellie started, “People would live here and like, what? Go to classes and stuff?”

“Yup,” Joel answered,

“Even though they were adults,” Ellie struggled. FEDRA recruited straight out of high school. College was, truly, an alien concept to her.

“Sort of adults,” Joel clarified, “I think it was just as much about partyin’ and findin’ themselves as anythin’ else.”

“Hey, hey,” Y/n spoke up, “Some of us were studious.”

Joel smiled, “Alright. And figurin’ out what they wanted to do with their lives.”

“What they wanted to do with their lives,” Ellie repeated, chuckling to herself.

“It didn’t always go that way,” Y/n added, “I mean, I went for four years, got a degree and it stayed on a wall. I never used it. Ended up in a hardware store.”

“So why go?” Ellie asked.

Y/n shrugged, “Like he said, you try to find yourself at that age…” she hesitated to continue, “I didn’t find myself till much later in life.”

Joel knew exactly what she was referring to, transporting himself somewhere between their first date and their last kiss.

“So I’ve been thinkin’,” he spoke up.

“Mm-hmm?” Ellie hummed.

“I don’t want a sheep ranch, actually. I mean, if the deal is I can do anything?”

Ellie looked over his shoulder up at him, “That’s the deal.”

“Well…” Joel was about to reveal the very last secret he’d been keeping, “When I was a kid, I wanted to be a singer.”

“Shut up,” Ellie laughed.

Joel looked back at her, “Why is that funny?”

“You gotta sing something now,” Ellie said.

“No.”

“Oh, you can’t just drop that on her and run,” Y/n grinned, “C’mon, hit us with a little Patsy Cline.”

“Yeah, c’mon, man,” Ellie joined in, “I’m not gonna laugh.”

“You’re already laughin’,” Joel pointed out.

“Yeah, okay, true,” Ellie replied, it was just too funny to think about dark, brooding Joel belting out an 80’s pop song or a 90’s grunge anthem, “Well, you’re singin’ for us later. I’m gonna save the fuckin’ world, man. It’s the least you can do for me.”

“I can’t top that,” Y/n smiled, “But I’ll make your life a complete hell if I don’t get to hear that voice again.”

Joel smirked, looking between the two women who could make him do just about anything, “Fair enough.”

Y/n and Joel drove their horses deeper into campus, coming up on what would have once been considered the quad. Now, there were wild animals freely roaming the frozen grass.

“Are those monkeys?” Ellie excitedly asked.

“Must be from the old labs,” Joel considered.

Ellie laughed as they chased each other away, “Look at them go.”

“First time seein’ a monkey?” Joel asked.

“First time seein’ a monkey.”

Y/n was a few feet ahead of them, scanning for her west coast counterparts. Spray painted on some signage, she spotted the Firefly symbol.

“Hey,” she called back to Joel, who was already coming to her side, “Look.”

Ellie sighed, “Here we go…”

Joel and Y/n kept their rifles against their chests as they followed the path, Y/n continued to ride ahead of them to handle any of the talking.

“Guard stations,” Ellie observed.

“Empty,” Y/n added, a twinge of suspicion lacing through her stomach.

“Uh…” Ellie dragged out the non-verbal question.

“Yeah,” Joel confirmed.

“Gun?”

It was foolish to think that their happiness would last the whole way to the base without a hint of trouble. “Yeah,” Joel sighed.

Y/n slid off her horse first, tucking her reins with Joels between a tree and its branch. The two of them shared a look, tender yet hardened as they removed their gloves to handle their guns better.

“Stick behind us,” Y/n ordered Ellie, who already knew the drill.

Joel and Y/n walked side by side, their pistols unholstered, as they entered the main building. The inside was utter destruction, everything from medical equipment to vials and medication bottles strewn across the floor.

“There were definitely doctors here,” Ellie said, picking up a small box from one of the carts left standing.

Joel picked up a file, flipping the manilla folder open and finding a piece of yellow pad paper.

“This is a packing list,” he explained, “Somethin’ you make before moving.”

He turned it to Y/n, who examined the contents of the list. Marlene had moved the Firefly base in Boston a few times before they’d found their home, their lists were nearly identical to this one.

“They just left?” Ellie asked.

There was a metallic clang from somewhere on a floor above them, all of their muscles tensing at the sound.

“Maybe not all of ‘em,” Ellie looked to Joel and Y/n.

The three of them carefully climbed the stairs, following the noise to the third floor. Joel managed to get ahead of Y/n, making himself a human shield. The same mess that littered the ground floor was scattered down the hall. Something, or someone, had cause the Fireflies to leave in a hurry.

Pausing outside the room in which the sound was coming from, Joel held up a hand to Ellie. Y/n scrunched down, sneaking past the doors and coming to stand on the other side. She and Joel shared an affirmative nod, drawing their guns and slowly entering the room.

Where the monkeys revealed themselves as the noisy culprits.

“Jeez,” Y/n breathed.

“Well,” Joel sighed, “At least it ain’t Clickers.”

“Yeah, no Fireflies either,” Ellie began to roam the room, “Maybe in all that research, they turned into fuckin’ monkeys.”

Y/n put her hands to her hips, throwing her head back to stare at the ceiling. She wracked her brain for anything, any piece of information about the base out west. An emergency evacuation plan, a second meeting place…

“You got anything?” Joel asked, seemingly telepathic.

“Nothing,” Y/n replied, scrunching her eyes shut, “I’ve never been privy to all of Marlene’s secrets.”

The two of them began to examine the room, Y/n was drawn to a cork-board with papers pinned to it. There was a map of the country in the middle with thumbtacks leading a path all the way to Salt Lake City.

“Hey,” Y/n called for Joel and Ellie.

“That’s where they went?” Ellie pointed her gun towards Utah.

“All the pins lead there,” Joel observed, “Maybe gettin’ ahead of the weather…better facilities? I don’t know.”

Y/n shook her head, “I mean, I don’t remember there being a base out there but-“

A set of unfamiliar voices interrupted her thought.

Joel and Y/n hurried to the window, barely peeking out enough to spot a group of raiders outside.

“Out the back,” Joel ordered, the three of them quickly rushing out the room.

They filed down the stairs and out the back entrance of the lab, taking shelter behind old sandbags as they listened for the raiding party. When all they heard was silence, Joel led them to the next point of safety.

“Ready?”

Y/n and Ellie nodded, guns drawn and ready to make their grand escape.

The three of them ran across the distance to where they’d left their horses. Joel and Y/n quickly holstered their rifles while Ellie tried to keep their animals calm.

“Joel! Y/n!”

Ellie’s cry caused them to spin around, one of the raiders had snuck up on them. He swung a lead pipe around, Joel pulling Y/n out of the way just in time before it collided with her skull. Y/n reached for her rifle again, ramming it in their attacker’s stomach, causing him to stumble. Joel took the opportunity to lunge at him, slamming him up against the tree. He took a shiner to the chin before flipping the raider in his grip and cutting off his airways with a chokehold.

“Get her,” Joel grunted to Y/n as the man struggled against him.

Y/n ran to Ellie, who had her gun aimed with a shaking hand, and pulled her back from the danger.

Joel waited until the raider was too weak to fight back before snapping his neck with a sickening crack and dropping him to the ground. He turned around to Y/n and Ellie, his chest rising and falling in heaves.

They were both staring at his abdomen in horror.

He looked down in confusion, a knife sticking out of him.

The world seemed to stop, for all of them, as realization hit in different ways. Joel grabbed hold of the dagger’s handle, pulling it out of him with a grunt. His blood began to pour out of him.

Y/n’s slackened jaw trembled, watching it all unfold as Joel’s eyes flew up to hers.

“Joel,” Ellie cried, the only one of them still thinking clearly and spotting the other raiders coming up on them, “Get on the horse.”

Joel managed to take a few steps forward while Y/n rushed to her own horse. He mounted his horse, letting out a blood-curdling cry of pain that, despite all their instincts, neither of them could stop to care for.

“El,” Y/n called as she mounted her own animal, “Go!”

Joel and Ellie began to ride off with Y/n not far behind, she was trying to manage the horse and shoot. Most of her shots landed at the ground around the raider’s feet.

Ellie took a few shots as well, “Get back!”

One fatal bullet hit one of the men, a warning to the others that may try to follow them.

Looking back for a split second, Y/n made a shot that cut through one of the raider’s legs. She spun back around to urge her horse forward.

“Joel,” Y/n shouted, “Ride.”

Through the shock that was beginning to hit his system, Joel could still understand her. He nudged the horse forward, their speed picking up and creating a wider berth between them and the men chasing after them.

It took them twenty minutes of riding until they were sure they’d lost them.

“They’re not following us,” Ellie said, looking to their rear, “I think we’re safe.”

Y/n looked over at Joel, his eyes were glazed over as he hunched over the reins of the horse.

“Joel,” she called, as if she could warn him of what his body had already set in motion.

He slipped from his horse before Ellie or Y/n could do a thing.

“Joel,” the girl cried, “No, no, no, no, shit!”

He fell to the snow with a grunt, his vision going black, the last thing is ears registered being-

“Joel!”

Y/n rushed off her horse, beating Ellie to his body and kneeling over it. His skin had turned three shades paler than his usual glow, Y/n felt his deathly cold cheeks and began to cry.

“No, no, no,” she mumbled, tapping his face firmly, “Joel, wake up.”

“Joel?” Ellie called him, kneeling on his other side, “Joel?”

Y/n was sane enough to examine his wound, blood spilling out of it at an uncontrollable rate.

“Shit,” she whimpered, “Ellie, his hands.”

Ellie covered Joel’s hands and pressed down on the hole in an attempt to stop the flow.

“Joel, open your eyes,” Ellie ordered, leaning over his face, “Open your eyes. Joel, you gotta get up.”

Panic mounted in Y/n quicker than it ever had, her mind flashing back to Outbreak Day, the last time she’d felt the life slip from someone she loved.

“No,” she begged, her tears falling onto Joel’s cheeks and rolling down his own face, “Joel, come on. Please, wake up.”

“We can’t fuckin’ do this without you,” Ellie began to choke on her own cries, “We don’t know where the fuck we’re going, what the fuck we’re gonna do…”

They needed him.

Ellie let out one more heartbreaking croak of his name, “Joel.”

Y/n pressed her forehead to his as if she could will her life into him. She couldn’t go twenty years missing him, get him back only to have him ripped from her.

“Joel, please,” she whined, “Don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to me.”

They sat in the snow, begging him to do something he couldn’t.

Y/n fought against the fears bubbling in her throat, ready to swallow her. She had to think clearly and quickly if they had any chance of saving him.

She wrenched her backpack off her body, frantically pulling at her jacket until it was off her too. “Ellie,” she sniffled, “Lift his shoulders.”

Ellie crawled above Joel’s head and strained to lift him, Y/n forced and shimmied her coat underneath him, yanking it until it was around his lwoer back. She pulled the sleeves around to his front, lined them up with the wound and tied a tight knot. A makeshift tourniquet.

“We gotta get him on the horse,” Y/n thought out loud, trying to think of the best way to move him, “Bring one of ‘em down.”

Ellie ran to retrieve Y/n’s horse, leading it back to the dip in the land they were on. Y/n brushed a hand over Joel’s cheek again, praying he stayed unconscious for the next part.

“I’m gonna get him to his feet,” Y/n instructed through her tears, “You’re gonna keep the horse steady, then you’re gonna help me get him on, okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie nodded, just as emotional as Y/n.

“Okay,” Y/n wrapped one of Joel’s arms around her shoulders and hoisted him to a seated position, “C’mon, honey. Come on.”

Joel’s head lolled backwards, his lips were turning blue. It was better to try and keep him awake.

“Joel,” Y/n said into his ear, loudly, “Joel, c’mon, stay awake for me.”

She got to her feet, calling on a supernatural strength she didn’t know she possessed and getting Joel upright, only for his knees to go out. Ellie was quick to take hold of his other side, doing her best to keep him up. She and Y/n strained ahead to their horse, until it was time to lift him.

Y/n mounted the animal first, they’d gotten Joel leaned up against it and Ellie was keeping him steady. “I’m gonna pull, you’re gonna push, okay?”

Ellie nodded.

“Go,” Y/n ordered, pulling Joel by his armpits up onto the horse with her. He let out a muffled groan as they did, a sad, but good sign. Ellie strained as she helped to lift him the rest of the way.

“I got you,” Y/n lowered him onto her back, the full weight of him pressing into her, “I got you.”

Joel’s head fell forward against Y/n’s shoulder, knowing even through his haze that it was a safe place to be.

“Where do we go?” Ellie asked, having grabbed Y/n’s backpack and mounted her horse.

Y/n looked at the area around them, hopelessly clueless as to what their next move was. Joel wouldn’t make the five day ride back to Jackson, and they couldn’t go back to the university. It was uncharted waters, whichever way they went.

“We find somewhere we can hide,” Y/n decided, on the verge of hyperventilating, “Anywhere.”

“We passed that neighborhood on the way,” the girl recalled.

“Yeah,” Y/n tugged Joel’s arms around her waist, “Yeah, let’s try there.”

The two women urged their horses forward, somewhere between a sprint and a trot, cutting through the woods beside them to head back to their original route. Y/n clutched Joel’s hands, interlocking her fingers with his, determined not to let him die in her arms.

She wouldn’t.

She couldn’t.

—————————

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 8 months

Text

the fire

lilac, chapter eight

a/n: hehehhehehehehheheh (but in a smutty way)

summary: “I can light the fire if you’d like.”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, smut, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, renovating an inn, only one bed, fireplace sex, kissing, dry humping, size kink, crying during sex, dirty talk, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (because this is just porn. no one is getting pregnant, I'm just craving the intimacy. let them be hoes and live out the fantasy)

word count: 3076

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Tossing and turning one last time on the couch, you finally gave up with a gentle sigh. At least you’d gotten an hour or two before you stirred from your light slumber, the butterflies still fluttering in your stomach dooming you to lay here on the sofa till the sun came up.

Getting up, you wrapped the woolly blanket around your frame, the borrowed shirt barely coming down to cover up your bum, and tip-toed over towards the small kitchenette. Careful not to turn on the tap too forcefully, the slow trickle took a while to fill up the glass you’d acquired after peeking through a few of the cupboards.

With one hand clutching the blanket that swaddled you, the other one that held the glass gently turned the water off before raising the drink up towards your lips to soothe your dry throat.

Hearing the floorboards behind you suddenly creak, you quickly spun around and discovered the source to naturally be none other than the person who lived here, “Pete! I mean, Frank! H-hi,” he stepped a bit closer, consequently letting the moonlight bathe across his form, the jaw-dropping vision, unfortunately, causing the drink to slip out of your butterfingers, harshly shattering against the floor and sending a tiny wave of water crashing onto your toes. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants and that was it, just the relaxed grey fabric clinging dangerously low on his hips. Ripping your now wide eyes away from his bare and burly chest, you forced your vision down to meet the shards at your feet, “oh, shit…”

Bending down to clean it up, it didn’t take long before another pair of hands also began to carefully pick up the pieces.

“Sorry, I frightened you.”

“No, no, you didn’t, I’m sorry, I’m just a clutz,” you avoided his gaze as you straightened back up, following his lead as he tossed the broken glass into the sink, “and I’m sorry about waking you, I thought I was being quiet, but–”

“You didn’t wake me, don’t worry.”

Wiping your damp hands dry on the blanket still hanging from your shoulders, you finally met his gaze, “well, then I’m sorry about breaking your glass.”

“It’s just a glass,” he uttered earnestly, faintly shaking his head, “you can’t sleep?”

“I could, for a little bit at least, but uh, no,” you wrapped the blanket tighter around your form, one of your palms coming to rub your upper arm over it, hoping that the friction might combat the middle of the night chill you couldn’t seem to shake.

“Are you cold?” he noticed, and your hand subsequently froze in its subconscious movements.

“A bit, but I’m okay.”

“I can light the fire if you’d like,” he gestured back to the hearth located beside your makeshift sleeping arrangement.

“Oh,” your eyebrows gently shot up at his kindness, “uh, sure, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to his frame as he soon ignited the fire, his broad back turned to you as you slowly sank down onto the rug at the foot of the couch, melting back against the bottom of it as your mind floated away to sinful places.

“There,” he sat down the box of matches and leaned back a bit to regard the flame taking a hold, “that should do it.”

As he scooted back to join you on the floor, eyes fast on the fire while yours were still fixated on him, you soon heard your voice pipe up, “hey Frank? Can I ask you something?” to which he simply hummed in confirmation, “that thing you told me last night, when you said that you did some stuff…”

A slow nod stirred his head, “yeah…”

“What were they? Was it something bad? Something illegal? Are you some criminal on the run?” you added half-jokingly, “should I be worried about, I don’t know, the FBI or someone bursting through those doors at any time?”

Staring back into the crackling flame, he simply offered a gentle shake of his head, “no.”

“No?” you cocked your head, leaning forward a bit to catch his distant gaze.

Finding your eyes, he then repeated steadily, “no.”

“Is that all?” a nervous chuckle bubbled out past your lips, “no?”

Sucking in a sharp inhale, he said, “for now, yeah.”

Gazing back at him, a gentle smile eventually warmed your features, “alright.”

“I wanna tell you,” he stressed, breathing deep as he averted his soulful eyes, “I wanna share everything with you, I just–… not yet…”

Seizing his hand, you gave it a soft squeeze, “it’s okay, I don’t want you to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Blinking back at you again, you then watched as his spine slowly relaxed back against the base of the sofa, eyes eventually flickering back towards the fireplace as his fingers readjusted, weaving in with your own.

Tilting your head down, you gazed at your conjoined hands, turning them a bit so that his was on top. It was kind of comical how much bigger his was than yours. The back of it almost reminded you of a windowpane on a rainy autumn day with the way his prominent veins popped out and snaked over the callused skin just like streaks of water would dance down the surface of the glass. Reaching out, almost unconsciously, you traced the fine lines stretching across his flesh with your fingertip.

After you had drawn over every little story the back of his palm had to tell, your interlocked hands then suddenly began to move as your eyes flickered up to see Frank, softly illuminated in the flickering firelight, slowly raising the back of yours up to his lips.

You had no idea anything could ever feel as soft as his pillowy peck felt against your knuckles. Finding your dazzled gaze, he held it as he gently twisted your hand, gaining enough access to place a trickle of kisses along the inside of your wrist.

And the next thing you knew, as if he was a magnet drawing you to him, your lips pressed against his in a zealous kiss.

As you felt his fingers find your jaw on their mission to weave into your hair, you found yourself crawling closer, so close in fact that the blanket wrapped around you fell to the floor, never to be thought of again, especially not when you eagerly slid into his lap, a shaky sigh quivering against his tongue as you did so.

You didn’t care that you were running out of air, how could you when his pecks were so intoxicating and his warmth so inviting? Wrapping your arms around his neck, you soon sensed his wide palms run down your spine, effectively turning you into goo every time his dreamy touch just shyly peeked under the hem of the oversized shirt you wore or whenever his fingertips just ever so slightly sneaked pasted the elastic of your waistband, never actually getting anywhere, but just the shear cracking of the seal drove you nuts.

So why wouldn’t you begin to rock down into his lap? Sure, you were already on top of the guy with his tongue down your throat, but you still didn’t feel like you were close enough.

Finally, when you felt as if your heart might actually burst out of your chest, you reeled back, panting as you uttered, “fuck, my pulse is beating so fast…” blinking back into his dark eyes through your heavy lashes, you abruptly grabbed one of his hands and, without truly pondering it, tugged it closer, “here,” placing it right beneath your left peak, “feel.”

His long fingers sprawled across your ribs, frozen and framing the crest as he sucked in a deep breath, staring back into your eyes you heard his deep timbre shoot straight to your throbbing core, “it is…” he slowly confirmed your rapid pulse, “are you okay?”

“Yes,” you hazily nodded, his gentle question warming your heart.

“Do you wanna–…” you saw him concentrate on not letting his yearning touch follow its desire and enclose around your boob among other intimate locations, “do you wanna stop?”

With the lightest of shakes to your head, you asked, “do you?” which he promptly answered as you felt his palm begin to move, gently gliding up till he cupped your tit, his broad thumb lightly swiping across, grazing over the pebbly nipple that made its excitement more then clear through his dark t-shirt that hung loosely around your frame.

You couldn’t help but let out a gasp at how good it felt. Toes curling, your hips instinctively rocked down in search of release as you then grabbed onto his bearded cheeks and seized his lips once again.

With a palm at the small of your back, Frank insistently tugged you closer, sending you further up his strong thighs till the palpable tent in his sweatpants nudged against you. Whimpering longingly into the kiss, it hadn’t been till now that you had truly noticed just how hard he was.

Fervently grinding down against his desire, your heated kiss briefly paused just long enough for him to scoop your shirt up and over your head, carelessly tossing it to the side before his arms swiftly enclosed around your frame, hands sprawling over your bare skin of your back as if he was starving for it.

Drawing you even closer towards him, pressing your bare chest against his, you felt his kisses begin to wander. Across your jaw, down your neck and all the way down to your tits. Mouth full, surely littering your soft peaks with lavender love marks, he gazed up at you, holding it as he then took over your desperate grinding, grip digging into your hips as he bewitchingly rocked you down against him.

But that look he sent you should have come with a warning, because pretty much as soon as he flashed it to you, that’s when your hand shot down between your tangled forms, reaching into his pants to truly feel what was driving you mad.

His head tilted back and collided with the plush seat, his mouth agape as he savoured every little pet you offered him as you fished his heavy length out of its restraints.

It was almost a growl that vibrated deep within his throat as he then buried his fists in the cotton of the underwear that stretched across your ass, retroactively pulling them tight enough against you for the soaked gusset to briefly tug against your folds before one of his hands shot down to touch you properly.

Though he didn’t pet you through your panties long before you felt him suddenly yank you up to your knees in order to tug the last bit of your clothes off. Raising your shins, one at a time to help him get them off your form completely, your own fingers eagerly mirrored his as you tugged both his sweatpants and the boxers beneath down his thighs, though you didn’t get to finish the job yourself as he impatiently took over and snatched them the rest of the way off.

You both let out a molten moan the moment you settled back down into his lap, a breathy, “fucking hell,” also flowed from Frank’s lips as your cunt drenched his girth in your want. Palm cupping your flush cheek, he whispered enchantingly, “you’re so fucking beautiful…”

Nuzzling his sturdy nose against your own, you rocked against him so perfectly, so electrically, that if you kept going even just a minute longer, then you’d surely cum right then and there.

“Frank, please,” you whimpered as you felt your pussy clench around nothing, “I wanna feel you,” his hands raked all across your spine, “I need to feel you, all of you, please, I feel so fucking empty.”

“Yeah?” he tilted his chin back, catching your fluttering gaze.

“P-please,” you practically trembled at this point.

Arms already fast around you, he swiftly scooped you up and laid you back down on to the rug, capturing your lips in a brief kiss as he settled on top of you like some carnal deity.

Reaching down, he only brushed his bulbous tip through your folds twice, tapping the weight lightly against your buzzing clit, before you tangled your legs behind him and drew him in.

Perhaps the adrenaline had been to blame, but the brief encounter you previously had with Frank’s cock hadn’t been substantial enough as the light touches hadn’t been able to warn you of the daunting girth he was packing.

As he slowly sank in, a rushed, “shh, shh, shh,” flowed out pasted your lips as you with suddenly wide eyes landed a few trembling taps to his abdomen, pleating him to a halt.

“What? What?” he asked, eyes scanning your features as you breathed deep, trying to overcome his fierce size.

“Holy fuck,” you whimpered breathlessly, eyes fluttering uncontrollably, “w-why didn’t you tell me you were so–, so–, fuck… so big?”

A chuckle suddenly rumbled through him, “well I’m sorry, I thought you had already–, uh… do you need me to pull back out? We don’t need to do it like this if you–”

“No, no, no, don’t, don’t,” the words spilled out of you like the water from the glass you had spilled earlier, “just give me a second, I just need a second.”

Brows knitted, your eyes didn’t leave his as you reeled in the overwhelming, yet astoundingly pleasurable sensation, your walls slowly relaxing around his fat tip as you still felt so close to the edge, like just a tiny little feather could tip you over into ecstasy.

Gentle caresses moving up and down the curve of your form, his soft smile soon brightened as he eventually zeroed in on your puffy pearl, your vibrant reaction being more than enough indication for him to know what was on the brink of occurring.

His tight circles didn’t quit, even when you pussy clenched so tight that his tip popped straight out, he just kept going till your moans turned into cries, limbs grew chaotic and your hand shot down to tap his out, halting it to a complete standstill.

“H-holy shit,” you panted, pulling him down to seize him lips, “holy shit…” you felt his glossy fingers trade the firm motions in with a gentle bit of contact, lightly cupping his slick palm against your puffy folds, shielding you in a way and kissing you softly as you took a moment to regain your vigor.

“You good?” you eventually heard him check in.

“Am I good?” you chuckled, a light furrow crinkling up your brows, “Frank, you just gave me one of the best orgasms I’ve had in I don’t even know how long, but definitely the best one someone else has ever given to me. Yes, I’m good, I’m really good,” you giggled against his lips as you captured them in another kiss, “are you good?”

Echoing your light laughter, he rumbled, “yeah,” as if his painfully hard cock, throbbing against your stomach wasn’t enough of a clue.

Lips glued to his, you reached down and curled your fingers around his dick, or at least as much as you could with your fingers barely meeting on the other side. Ravenous once again, you dragged him across your sensitive clit, his low groan mixing and mingling with your own before you nudged him against your entrance, welcoming him back inside once more.

It was slow, oh so very slow with bountiful breaks dispersed throughout, but eventually, with a bit of patience and a tender touch, you worked up to a gentle rhythm. Though to say that it was gentle in no way meant it wasn’t intense, as the tears that promptly began to trickle down your cheeks effectively made that known.

It only took one sniffle before Frank noticed, reacting quickly though not managing to open his mouth before you did, “I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, it’s just–, you feel so good,” you blubbered, nails clawing into his back, “having you touch me like this, feeling you inside of me, it just feels so good, please don’t stop,” you begged, your lust streaming through the hot tears, “I’m sorry, I’m not sad, I swear, I don’t know why I’m crying,” a giggle managed to bubble through, “just please don’t stop, please, pleas–”

But the rest of your whimpering words morphed into desperate moans as Frank delivered on exactly what you asked for and then some. Perhaps the palpable power he had on you finally went to his head as he then just let go and lost himself in the pleasure of your warmth.

You’d actually forgotten that he’d, up until now, only fucked you with a fraction of him, but when the air got suddenly punched out of your lungs as his heavy sack tapped feverishly against you, fat girth stretching you out and filling you up to the very brink, the overwhelming sensation wasn’t at all excruciating as you had feared, no, instead it genuinely sent your body straight to cloud nine.

“I won’t stop,” he croaked as he rocked into you, “I promise, I won’t fucking stop,” timing the last few words with his frantic hips, driving into you with each and every word.

“F-Frank, oh!” your eyes rolled in your skull as you sensed your thighs begin to tremble once more, the carpet beneath you beginning to burn from the friction his desperate pace was causing.

“Atta girl,” he groaned deliciously, “fucking hell, you’re gripping onto me so good, so fucking good,” just the tip of his nose ghosted against your own as he murmured, “sucking me back in, you feel so incredible, so–, fuck…”

The lewd and sloppy melody of your connection reverberating throughout the cabin soon concluded with you both in a sweaty and jumbled pile, your thighs still quivering as he reached out for the forgotten blanket, tugging it over the both of you.

Laying there on the floor, soothingly tangled and listening to the fire crackle, you felt yourself melt further into Frank’s form as his touch softly brushed across your tender skin, drawing soothing patterns as you held him close.

“About–…” you then heard him hesitantly break the blissed-out silence, “about what you said earlier… last night…” craning your neck, you locked eyes with his as he admitted, “you scare me too.”

532 notes · View notes

thetriumphantpanda · 8 months

Text

a woman's voice, i quickly ran

In The Woods Somewhere | Chapter One

Chapter Summary | Joel has been wandering for weeks, aimlessly listing through the forest as he scouts a new patrol path. He's gone much further than he needs, could easily turn back, which he almost does, until he stumbles across you and your coven of children, hiding out in the forest.

Chapter Warnings | Consumption of food, canon typical violence, descriptions of child death and dead bodies, mention of weapons, mention of religion, religious trauma, mention of a cult, swearing, child loss, allusions to controlling behaviour and domestic abuse, allusions to dirty thoughts but nothing explicit yet, age gap relationship in future chapters, no use of y/n.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 6.3K

Authors Note | Well, here we fucking go right? I definitely didn't need another WIP, but I seriously couldn't leave this one alone so here we are. Like I said on the masterlist drop, this is different from what I've written before. It's challenging me in the best way and I really cannot wait to share more with you. If you enjoy this then please consider reblogging, leaving comments or popping into my ask with your thoughts - I love hearing from you guys! And also consider leaving a tip on Ko-Fi if you enjoyed as well - I'm a poor student so anything really helps, but no pressure.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Joel’s boots sink into the ground underfoot. It rained last night. He’s thankful he managed to find an abandoned cabin along the way yesterday before the heaven’s opened. This walk would be even more miserable if his clothes had been soaked through as well. Every few steps his feet slip in the mud. He can already feel his ankles screaming at him to stop, but the sky above him is dark grey and threatening to rain once more, so he keeps walking, hoping there’s someone, somewhere looking down on him, taking pity, hoping he can find another cabin to spend the night in.

When he hears a distant rumble of thunder, he curses Tommy, out loud. He’s nowhere near Jackson now, having been convinced to take a scouting mission for this new route they’d stumbled across once the snows of winter had melted away. He feels like he’s been punished. Shunned from his own community. Even though his brain knows that’s not the case. He hasn’t spoken to Ellie in months, his chest constricting tightly when he thinks to her. He's no-one to blame but himself for where he is, but the Lord knows whatever he did, whatever he would continue to do for that girl, he’d do it all again given his second chance.

He can still see Tommy’s face when he came clean. The look of utter despair, the one chance they had at returning to normal, snatched away by Joel and his gun, and then the look of understanding that Joel had found his purpose again, found someone to give his love to. That’s why he’s here now, backpack laden with a singular change of clothes and his rations, rifle slung over his shoulder. Tommy thought some solitude would help. Help him come to terms with his new relationship, or lack thereof, with Ellie. Give him something to focus on. He still can’t help thinking that it was an excuse for him to be out of town for a few weeks, so that his scowling face didn’t make the children cry or the rest of the town avoid him.

When all is said and done, he misses her. He’d already lost one daughter, and through trying not to lose the other, that’s exactly what he’s done. Pushed her away. Alienated her. What he wouldn’t give to go back and hear those shitty puns again. Of course, in the back of his mind he knew this would happen, he just didn’t think it would be so soon. The only thing he would do differently about the years they’ve lived since they came back to Jackson, it would be to savour the moments he had with her, knowing they’d be gone all too soon.

He can feel his chest tightening. Not in the way it would when he’s exerted himself up a hill. In the way it happens when he feels things spiraling out of control. He rests a palm on the tree-trunk in front of him, other hand clutched to his heart as he closes his eyes and tries to calm him breathing. Ground himself. Count to ten. Think of things he can smell. Think of things he can hear. He’s focusing on the birdsong when he hears something else. Just as sweet as the chirping from the trees, but decidedly more human.

You are my sunshine

My only sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are grey

Along with the singing, Joel can hear the telltale sound of children. He’s grown used to it since being in Jackson, hearing children enjoy themselves without having to worry about what happens outside of the walls that keep them safe. But there are no walls out here, only forest and danger, so the sound of children laughing is unsettling him, and he’s not really sure why. He pushes himself back from the tree, taking the rifle off his shoulder to rest in his arms as he takes tentative steps through the forest, careful not to step on anything that might give him away. He comes to stop near the front of the line of trees, letting his eyes adjust to the scene in front of him.

There’s a cabin, not unlike the one he’d spent the previous night in, situated in a small clearing. If he looks at it with his contractor eyes it’s pretty well built, solid and sturdy. But it’s not the cabin that he’s interested in, not really. His eyes are drawn to a woman, sitting on a bench that’s placed on the porch of the cabin, and more importantly, the small gaggle of children that are sitting around her. There are four of them, varying in age, two boys and two girls, who are sitting on the floor in front of the woman, who has stopped singing and is now reading aloud from a book that’s on her lap.

The voice that she speaks with is almost as lovely as the voice she sings with, and Joel finds himself leaning against the tree, letting the soft lilt of her voice soothe him. It’s a distant memory but it reminds him almost of his mother, when she’d read to him and Tommy before bed when they were young boys. He doesn’t know the story, can’t make out enough words to follow along, but that doesn’t matter.

He's watching intently as she closes the book on her lap and sets it down on the bench. He listens as she tells the children to go inside. She follows, guiding one of the older children with a hand on the back of his head. She’s only gone for a minute, then she’s back, this time with a shotgun clutched in her arms, much like the way he’s got his own rifle.

“You gonna be trouble?” She calls out, facing him directly, barrel of the gun trained into the trees where he’s stood.

He’s taken back by her observation skills. Joel had been careful to stay as still as he could, but somehow, she’d managed to spot him. He thinks to himself that it’s good, when she’s got children to care for.

“Don’t mean no harm,” He calls back, shouldering his rifle as he does, “Just lookin’ for somewhere to spend the night.”

He steps out of the tree line, hands raised in surrender to bring home his point. She keeps the gun trained on him though. Smart, he thinks, she doesn’t trust him. The sky above decides now, that after hours of threatening, to open, sending fat drops of rain onto the ground.

The woman points with the barrel of her shotgun for Joel to sit on the bench, under the cover of the porch, which he gladly does, grateful for the opportunity to take the weight off his aging ankles. Once he’s sat, he takes a moment to push the curls back from his head, water dripping from the ends, he also leans down to unlace his boots, relieving the pressure on his feet.

“How’d you find us?” She asks, still aiming the gun at him.

“How’s about you get that gun off me, and we’ll talk?” Joel asks, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s stopping you from attacking me once I do?”

“Probably the fact that my gun is there,” He motions to the pillar he’d rested his rifle on, out of reach unless he stands and takes steps to get it, “And those kids in there.”

“You got any other weapons on you?” She asks, Joel nods his head, because it’s true, he’s got a hunting knife in his backpack, “Can I search you?”

“Knock yourself out.” He murmurs in response.

She takes slow steps towards him, eyes not leaving his face as she kneels in front of him, fingers tracing the top of his boots for something concealed. She does the same up the leg of his jeans, trying to feel if he’s got anything hidden there, and then pats down his chest. Joel curses to himself at the way his heart jumps in his chest when her delicate hands touch him. Touch starved idiot, he thinks, he’s not had a woman touch him since Tess, and even that was more of a means to end.

She steps back from him, moving onto his backpack. She takes out his change of clothes, unfolds them to make sure he’s not keeping anything hidden there, but then folds them back up which Joel thinks is curious. She finds the hunting knife buried just below his clothes. She takes it out and inspects it, but doesn’t pocket it for herself, just rests it on top of his folded clothes. Finally, she rustles through his rations – some bags of dried fruit and jerky mostly. He'd been trying to catch fresh meat on the way so there’s still plenty left. Once she’s satisfied Joel has nothing else to hide, she repacks his bag for him, before standing back, gun still in hand but not trained directly to his face anymore.

“Where did you come from?” She asks, leaning against the porch fence.

“I’m from a commune, few weeks walks from here,” He answers honestly, “We noticed a new route out when the snow melted so I’m just scouting it out, makin’ sure there ain’t nothing to cause us trouble,” He looks at the woman now, directly in the eye, “You gonna be trouble for us?”

He’s teasing really, because what threat could one woman and four children pose to Jackson? But she doesn’t take it that way, Joel catching the way her fingers twitch on the trigger.

“Depends,” She speaks, “You gonna be trouble for us?”

“Doubt it,” He shrugs, “We won’t come out this far when we patrol.”

“Then why are you out here at all?”

Ah, yes, the million-dollar question. He really could have gone back a week ago. Once he’d walked as far as he would on his normal patrols, he could have called it and gone back, but there’s something about the solitude here that he enjoys. He also thinks he’s avoiding going back to his miserable existence now. Doesn’t want to live in a place where Ellie ignores him, where she walks past his house without acknowledging him.

“Guess I just like the outdoors.”

She raises her eyebrows at him but seems to accept his answer. The rain is pouring now, soaking the ground again and if there’s one thing he doesn’t want to do right now, it’s trekking through the storm to find someplace else to shelter.

“You mind if I say?” He asks, “Just until the storm passes.”

He watches her closely as she thinks, finally taking a moment to really take her in. She’s young, probably in her early thirties if he was to guess. She’s wearing a white dress, or it would have been white once upon a time. The long hemline is covered in dirt, ghosting along worn work boots. The dress has long sleeves, and the neckline is cut just enough to be enticing but not indecent. He wonders where the hell she’s come from. There are scars that pepper her face, one that cuts across her top lip and another that slashes through her left eyebrow. They look old and healed and he can see another mark on the skin around her throat – perhaps not a scar, more of a burn, that traces around the entirety of that delicate throat. He knows she’s been through something; it must be what’s made her so smart. She is, quite possibly, the most beautiful thing he’s seen. Like an angel, dressed in white, ethereal. He feels depraved in this moment, thinking of all the ways he might break her.

“You stay out here,” She says firmly, “And you don’t speak to the children, understand?”

“Understood.”

She nods, pushing herself back from the railings beneath her back, “I’ll bring some food out later.”

Joel watches as she moves away, murmuring a quiet thank you to her as she disappears back into the cabin, shutting the door behind her. He hears a lock click a moment later and he smiles. This woman knows exactly what she’s doing.

You settle the children at the table a few hours later. You dish servings of the stew you’d made over the fire into bowls and give each of them a glass of water. You turn your back on them when they clasp their hands together, bowing their heads in a silent prayer like they’ve always done. Like they were conditioned to do. You don’t join in. Instead, you take two bigger bowls, filling one for yourself and then the other for the mystery man out there. His portion is bigger. If he’d been surviving on dried rations and whatever he could catch, you think he must be starving. You’re not sure why you care so much, but you think it has something to do with the way you were raised. Before the world went to shit, your parents had always given guests the biggest portion of food, this is just something you carry with you.

When you turn around the children are eating their food. They’re slow, knowing they can savour what they eat now. They don’t have a master who takes their bowls away once he’d finished, no matter how much they had left. They’re quiet too, something they’re still yet to unlearn. Children are to be seen and not heard. You’d told them in the months after that you loved hearing them, the joy they let out when you taught them how to play properly. You’d insisted no-one was going to beat them again for speaking too loudly, but some lessons are harder than others to unlearn.

“Who is that man?” Thomas, the oldest boy asks quietly.

“He’s just passing through,” You smile, ruffling the hair on his head as you pass, “He’ll be gone by the morning.”

“He won’t hurt us?” He asks, and your heart breaks a little, because what do you say?

“I don’t know,” You answer honestly, dipping to press a kiss to the crown of his head, “I keep us safe though, don’t I?” He nods in response, “Then I’ll keep us safe tonight, now finish your dinner, I’ll be back in a little while.”

You set your bowl down on the corner table by the door, unlocking it with one hand before picking up your bowl again. The man from earlier is still sat on the bench, exactly where you’d left him, except now he’s got a book perched on his lap, which you notice is the one you’d been reading to the children earlier. He looks up, closing the book as you offer him his own bowl.

“It’s not much,” You speak softly, sitting in the small chair across from the bench, “It’s squirrel, the meat.” You inform him as he starts pushing his spoon through the meal.

“Thank you,” Is all he says as he lifts the spoon to his mouth, “How long have you been livin’ here?”

You chew your own mouthful of food, realizing quickly that the anxiety in your stomach at someone you don’t know being in your space means you don’t really want to eat anything, the meat and vegetables settling like lead when you swallow. Better to be out here and keep an eye on him though.

“Couple’a months,” You offer, pushing the food around in your bowl, “We’ve moved around a bit.”

“Ever get any trouble?” He asks, shoveling another spoonful of stew into his mouth.

You take a small bite of your own food, chewing it more times than is necessary before you struggle to swallow it down, “Not really,” You answer, “Few people come through, but the shotgun usually means they move on, I think the children help,” You shrug, “World might have gone to shit but people don’t wanna kill kids these days.”

You’re still trying to convince yourself to eat your food when the man in front of you sets his empty bowl on the floor. You look down into the stew, taking another bite making you feel like you might be sick, so you extend the bowl to him.

“No, thank you,” He holds his hand up, “That’s yours.”

“I ate earlier,” You lie, “Please, it’ll just go to waste.”

You can see him battle with himself a little, but ultimately his stomach wins, so he takes the bowl and finishes off your portion in silence, setting his old bowl inside this one once he’s finished. The light has faded fast, it’s still pouring with rain so there’s no chance he’s going to move off tonight. You stand, bending to take the bowls from between his feet.

“I’ll find you a blanket,” You speak quietly as you open the door, “You’ll be more comfortable that way.”

Inside, the children have finished their food and have started to clear up. Another hangover from where you’d been before. Thomas takes the bowls from your hand and gives them to Clara, just a year younger than he is. She places them in the bucket of water in front of the fire and starts to scrub as you root around in the ottoman by the couch. There’s only one blanket in there that you think will be big enough for him and it’s threadbare, but better than nothing you think. Whoever he is, he’s old, or older than you at least, so you take two cushions from the sofa, if his back is anything like yours, he’ll need them.

He's back to reading the book when you take them out to him. This time, he doesn’t close it, just looks up with a smile and says thank you as you place them at the end of the bench. You turn to head back inside.

“I’ll be gone once the sun rises,” He speaks, “Thank you, you’re a very kind girl.”

You scoff a little, thinking if only you knew what I’d done. You smile at him instead, you want to tell him it was nice to meet him, nice to meet a man who doesn’t seem to have ulterior motives, but what would be the point? He’ll be gone in the morning and you’ll be back to keeping your children safe. You say nothing. Leave him on the porch and lock the door. It’s for the best.

Joel doesn’t sleep. He spends his night upright on the porch, rifle over his lap, surveying the tree line in front of the cabin. Every now and then he stands, walking around, because his good ear can only pick so much out. He doesn’t know why he feels the need to stand guard, he wasn’t asked to. You’ve gotten under his skin. He’s been around you less than twelve hours, he doesn’t even know your name, doesn’t know who these children are to you, what you’ve been through, but still feels the need to keep you safe.

The rain had stopped some time ago, just after he noticed the lights inside the cabin go out. It makes hearing things easier, now he’s not trying to make out sounds over the roar of the weather. It’s unsettling though. A few times he thinks he’s heard something amongst the trees, the snapping of twigs and such, but it could easily be an animal. He doesn’t want to risk wandering off into the woods to figure out what it is, because if it is humans, his absence means you and your children are an easy target.

He's sat back on the porch when he hears it. The unmistakable sounds of someone cocking their gun. He’s too slow to react. The sound of the gun firing fills his ears and then the shattering of glass behind him. The bullet piercing through the window behind him. He jumps up, realizing whoever it is out there must have been aiming at him. He readies his rifle, eyes scanning the tree’s for movement. He’s stood with his back to the door, aiming his gun out, waiting for whoever is out there to give away their position when the door is yanked open, you’re stood there with your shotgun.

“Get inside.” He hisses, trying to gently push at your shoulder.

“I haven’t needed your help so far,” She spits back, as another bullet ricochets off the wall of the cabin, they’re definitely aiming at you both, “Where are they?”

“I don’t know,” He whispers, trying to figure out exactly where they’re firing from, “If you’re gonna stay out here, you need to be quiet.”

You scoff at him, as if you’d been making a ton of noise anyway, but then another bullet sounds, bouncing off the wall near your head and you let out a yelp, finally realizing you’re terrified. The man, whose name you still don’t know, grips the top of your arm and pushes you back inside the cabin, following behind you as he slams the door shut.

You watch as he pulls the couch away from the window that had been shot through. He points his rifle out of it and pulls the trigger and you think you can hear someone cry out into the night. Good riddance you think, as you watch him reload his gun. You turn around at the sound of a creaking door, finding Thomas and Clara and the two younger children, Edward and Isabel, clearly frightened by what was happening. You drop your shotgun on the table, rushing over to kneel in front of them. They crowd into your arms, Isabel is crying so you try and soothe her as much as possible.

“What’s happening?” Edward asks.

“There are some bad men outside who want to hurt us,” You answer simply, you’ve tried never to sugarcoat things with them, “But it’s okay,” You try and smile, “Because we’ve got someone looking after us.”

You turn just in time to watch your guest shoot again. It continues like this for what feels like forever, someone outside shoots towards the cabin and then he shoots back, until it’s silent. You watch as the man stays still, but there aren’t any other shots that ring out. You let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding. You were safe.

“Back into there,” You tell the children, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

They do as they’re told, heading back into their bedroom. You close the door and turn around as the man in front of you is finally lowering his gun. You both take a moment to look at each other, chests heaving and adrenaline flooding through your veins.

“Thank you,” You speak softly, walking up to him, “I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

“Probably not been attacked,” He grumbles, “I think it was me outside that made them think there was somethin’ worth takin’.”

“Still,” You place a hand on his shoulder, “Thank you.”

“You can’t stay here,” He says suddenly, “All those gunshots mean infected, I can’t keep you safe enough if they’re gonna start swarmin’.”

“We don’t have anywhere else to go,” You panic, feeling bile rise up in your throat, it had taken you months to find safety like this, and now you had to give it up, “Where are we going to go?”

“There’s another cabin, just a few hours walk away,” He explains, “I stayed there the night before I came here, same kinda thing, and far enough away to be safer, but we have to go now.”

You take a moment to think. You don’t know this man. Sure, he’s just killed people to keep you safe, but maybe this is all part of some master plan, lure you away, take the children from you, force you back into a life you don’t think you’d survive second time around. The alternative though isn’t much better. You stay here and what? You’re overrun by clickers, get torn apart by infected and if they don’t get the children, what becomes of them? When you think about it like this, there is really only one option, and that is trust this man in front of you.

“If I’m going to trust you, I need to know your name.”

“Joel.”

You return the favour quickly, telling him your name, before turning to go to the children. They’re sat together on one bed, comforting each other. You kneel in front of the bed, placing soothing hands wherever you could reach.

“The bad men are gone,” You speak softly, “But it was really loud which means it isn’t safe to stay here anymore, so the man out there is going to take us somewhere safer.”

“How do we know he’s a nice man?” Thomas asks.

“Well, he kept us safe, didn’t he?” You offer, “He didn’t have to help us like that, but he did, so I think that makes him nice, doesn’t it?”

They nod, but you know they would do anything you asked them to do, without question. There isn’t much to pack, you didn’t have much to begin with, but you ask them to gather the small bags you’d found for them along the way and fill it with what they would need. When you head back to the main room, Joel is still posted near the window, keeping an eye out for whatever dangers might be waiting to greet you when you leave.

You find your backpack and make sure it’s filled with everything you might need. It’s still got most of your essentials in it, perhaps you’d always thought this place wouldn’t be forever. You fit a few of the books in that the children love the most before putting it on, gathering the small knife from the table, setting it in your boot and then picking up your shotgun, just in time for the children to emerge with their own bags.

Joel turns around, “Okay, we need to be quick,” He speaks softly, aware that the children must be frightened, “And really quiet, okay?”

They nod, as do you, then he’s opening the door and leading the way. You don’t bother closing the door behind you. You just motion for the children to follow behind Joel. Isabel and Edward are holding hands, just like they always do, Clara and Thomas just a few steps behind them. The sun has started to rise, painting your surroundings in pale light as you start to move quietly behind them all. Then, it all goes wrong. You’re not entirely sure what happens past hearing another gunshot and one of the children screeching.

Joel whips around and trains his gun from where the sound had come from, firing a shot right into the man who was heading right towards you. You scream and step back before you look to your children. Edward is stood with his hand clutched to his side, blood seeping through his shirt and his hand. You barely have time to catch him before he falls. His tiny body is shaking in your arms, as you try and move his hand away from the wound. He cries out in pain when you try and move him.

“I know baby, I know,” You try and soothe, your own tears clouding your vision as you manage to move his hands away, “You gotta let me see, okay?”

When his hands do move, you can already tell there’s nothing you can do. Blood is pooling on the ground, seeping through the white material of your dress as you try and put pressure on it, which causes more pained cries to leave his mouth. You must get him up, you have to move him somewhere you can look at him better.

“We gotta get you up, okay?” You ask him, quickly brushing your tears away from your face as you try and hoist him up, but it’s no use, the screams of pain are more than you can bare.

You let him drop back to the ground, still trying to stem the bleeding when you notice that he’s stopped shaking and his crying has stopped. No. No no no no no.

“Edward?” You ask, shaking his shoulder, “Edward!” This time it’s louder, mor hysterical as your sobs rack your body. He can’t be dead. Not after everything you’d done, “Please, baby, come back to me,” You beg, “I can keep you safe, please just come back.” You cry into his bloodied body, knowing it’s no use, he’s gone.

You let out another sob as you clutch his small body to yours, rocking him back and forth like you used to when you were trying to get him to sleep, tears falling down your face and onto the ground. Then, a strong palm slips onto your shoulder which makes you jump, “We have to go.” Is all Joel says, trying to get you to stand with an arm on your elbow.

“I c-can’t leave h-him here.” You choke out through sobs.

“Give him to me,” Joel insists, taking Edward’s lifeless body from your arms, helping you to stand, “I’ll carry him.”

You don’t know why but you start to wipe at the blood on your dress, it’s seeped into the material so there’s no way you’ll ever get it out, but it’s something to focus on that isn’t Edward being dead. For the first time in years, you don’t look at the other children as you start to follow behind Joel once more. You know their faces would break you, would cause you to fall to your knees and not get up again. The three of them walk side-by-side in front of you again. Silent, but you can tell they’re crying from the way their shoulders are shaking. Isabel is in the middle of Thomas and Clara, each of them clutching one of her hands as they struggle to keep up with Joel’s pace as he walks through the dense forest.

You think you walk for hours, quietly crying as you do. You stop once, Joel walking off away from you whilst you sit with the children that are left, letting them sip from the canteen of water whilst you all catch your breath. You know he does it so none of you have to lay your eyes on Edward’s dead body. You make yourself as small as possible, knees to your chest, to try and hide the worst of the bloody stains on your dress. All too soon, Joel is whistling to you, telling you that it’s not much further.

By the time you reach the cabin, the sun is already starting to set. Joel motions his hand for you to go inside ahead of him which you do, guiding Thomas, Clara and Isabel in before you go. Joel stays outside as you get them settled on the dusty couch inside.

“What happened to Edward?” Isabel asks, her eyes wide as you crouch in front of them.

You take hold of her small hands, “I’m sorry baby,” You sigh, “Edward is gone.” You can feel the lump in your throat, you try to bite your emotion back for their sake.

“Where has he gone?” She asks.

You open and close your mouth, trying to find the right words. Trying not to rip up wounds from the past that you’d only just managed to close with them.

“Well baby, he’s gone somewhere else,” You sigh, “You remember before, when we lost people, and we were always told they went to heaven?” The three children nod at you, “I know we don’t believe that, but he’s somewhere better now.”

“And he won’t come back?”

“No baby,” You coo, running your hand over her hair, “But we’ll see him again someday, I promise.”

You press a kiss to each other their foreheads, opening your backpack to pull out one of their books. You hand it to Thomas so he can read to the other girls before you head outside. You can see Joel near the line of trees, he’s digging with a shovel and your chest constricts at the sight. It’s not fair. None of this is fair. Edward deserved to grow old. You’re angry. You want to scream. You want to strike your fists into something until all you feel is the physical pain, because that’s easier, it’s an easier pain to the one you feel right now.

Joel turns as you stand still at the door, he tilts his head, ushering you over to him. Your body follows the direction, like you always had before. A man tells you to do something, you do it.

“I didn’t know if you wanted to bury him,” He speaks softly, “But if you do, it’s ready.”

You can feel your bottom lip tremble so you bite down on it, hoping the pain stops you from crying, but it’s useless, you still can’t comprehend that he’s gone, despite the fact his body is wrapped in a filthy sheet next to the grave Joel has dug. He deserves so much better than this. You can’t help but take it as a personal failure. You’d vowed to keep them safe, and you’d failed.

“Hey, it’s okay,” He murmurs, letting a hand rest lightly on your shoulder which you shudder away from, “I’ll give you some time, just place him down and I’ll do the rest when you’re ready.”

He walks away, but not into the house, you notice. Maybe he still thinks the children are frightened of him. He walks around the side of the cabin as your focus moves back to the shroud in front of you. You drop to your knees, delicate hands rolling the top of the shroud down to reveal his face. His eyes are closed, and you can almost convince yourself that however he died it was peaceful. His skin is pale and mottled, lips blue. A tear drips from your face and onto his, clearing a trail down his cheek as it moves through the dirt. You lean forward, kissing his forehead, running a hand through his hair like you did each night to soothe him.

“I’m sorry baby,” You whisper, “I’m so sorry.”

You stay like this for a moment, forehead pressed to his. You can’t bare it anymore, pulling back and covering his face, but there’s something stopping you from lowering him into the ground. Then it’s final. You won’t be able to see his face again, listen to his voice when he talks or smile when he laughs. You turn, finding Joel hanging back.

“I can’t do it,” You mutter, “Will you?”

He nods, walking over to you. He doesn’t try and touch you this time, just bends and picks Edward up before placing him lightly into the grave. He stands, putting his hand to the shovel, you decide you can’t watch anymore, turning your back on the scene behind you to go back to the family you still have.

Darkness has enveloped the outdoors. The children have been in bed for a while, after Joel handed out the remainder of his measly rations to everyone. You wish you could convince yourself to sleep, but moving from the couch seems like too much work right now. You’re numb. Joel is sat at the other end of the couch, letting the small fire he set warm him through. The silence is deafening.

“You wanna talk about it?” His gruff voice asks.

You’re biting at the end of your nail, crying again. Your body is aching, dress covered in dry blood. You wish you could wake up from whatever horrible nightmare this is. You finally shake your head, biting at your lip as you do.

“I don’t think I can.”

There’s another beat of silence before Joel speaks again, “I know you don’t wanna think about it right now,” He sighs, “But Jackson, where I live, it’s safe.”

“Is anywhere really safe these days?” You scoff.

He nods his head, “Y’know, that’s what I thought when I got there, but it works,” He shrugs, “My brother, he sorta helps run it, big walls, everyone chips in where they can, take turns patrollin’, I’ve been there two years now and nothin’ bad’s ever happened.”

“So, you’re communists then?”

Joel can’t help but laugh, thinking about the existential crisis Tommy had when Ellie had suggested the same thing, “Somethin’ like that, yeah.”

You sigh, because it’s starting to sound like a good idea. A place where you’d be shut in, protected by people. Where the children could actually be children. You’re still not convinced you trust him though. Sure, he’d protected you. Helped you to safety. Carried Edward’s dead body all the way here, but you’re still convinced it’s some kind of sick joke at your expense. You could be walking headfirst into a trap.

“It’s okay,” He murmurs, “I don’t expect you to trust me, it’s going to take time, but just follow me, even for a while, we’ll go slowly back that way, anytime you wanna leave, you can.”

“I can’t think about this right now,” You snap, “Can we just have some time?”

He gives you a small smile, “Of course, all the time you need, I ain’t in a rush to get back.”

Exhaustion floods your body, eyes becoming heavy, as the final ounces of adrenaline finally leave your body.

“Take the room,” Joel offers, “I can sleep out here.”

“You slept on a wooden bench last night,” You fight, “And I’m younger, I can sleep out here.”

“I didn’t sleep at all,” He counters, “So it don’t matter where I lie, I’m gonna be fast asleep in minutes.”

“You’re sure?” You ask, lifting your heavy bones from the couch.

“Go.” He nods his head towards the closed door to the second bedroom.

“Goodnight.” You speak softly, picking up your backpack to take into the room with you. You’re asleep almost as soon as your head hits the pillow.

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